By the time Richie woke up the following morning, Eddie had managed to get Bill and Stan into his room, undetected. They were all gathered around on his floor, whispering amongst themselves as they waited for their raven haired friend to awaken. Eddie hadn't bought Richie's story, he knew something more was going on, but he also knew Richie wouldn't budge, he knew he needed help in this endeavor.
Richie laid there, listening to their whispers for a few minutes, trying not to let the dull throbbing in his head get to him. It soon got the better of him, causing him to let out a small groan. The small group of Losers turned to face him, concern written on their features. "Hey 'Chee, how are you feeling..?" Eddie asked, his voice sickly sweet. God Richie hated that tone. He hated the pity he could hear in his friends voice, he hated that tone so much. "I'm fine Eds... can you guys leave please? My head is pounding and quite frankly none of you are helping." He said, moving to face away from them. His heart broke when he heard Eddies sigh, he knew that the boy was only trying to help, but this just wasn't the time. Things were far too complicated for anyone to even begin trying to fix it.
Richie couldn't even figure out how to fix it and it was his own fucking life, his own fucking problem. He turned back to face his friends, anger bubbling up. "I didn't fucking stutter, I'm not Bill! Get the fuck out of my room!" He couldn't help but snap, although everything in him was telling him not to. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't ignore that small voice in his head that told him to shut them out and shut down. It was a coping mechanism, unhealthy yes, but a coping mechanism nonetheless. He watched his friends expressions turn from shock to anger. He watched as they each left his room, he saw the look of disappointment in Eddie's eyes. And once they were gone, he let himself break down. This wasn't the first time and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last time.
Richie curled into himself, despite the pain, and he sobbed. He let out all of the pent up emotions, all of the hurt he had been feeling for months that he just hid away. He hated himself for it. He hated himself more than he hated his parents, more than he hated Bowers, more than anything else. He deserved the abuse, he deserved the bullying, he deserved to fucking rot. He was gay, of course he deserved this. He was dirty, he was filth, scum, diseased. He was everything that he had heard the good, god-loving, people of Derry whispering about homosexuals.
He laid there for hours, curled up in his bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was a mess, a broken, bruised mess. It wasn't long before he heard his window opening. He couldn't let anyone see him like this, not now. "I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from me?" Richie said with a small growl, wiping away his tears.
Eddie let out a very audible and very annoyed sigh. "Okay, Tozier, shut the fuck up. Tell me the truth, don't give me the bullshit of you falling down the stairs. Stairs don't leave fingerprint shaped bruises." Richie knew then he had to confess the truth, he knew Eddie wasn't going to listen to any of his excuses or lies. This is what he had been dreading. He didn't want to get anyone roped into this mess, let alone Eddie. Sweet, beautiful Eddie. He couldn't be a part of this, he couldn't be subjected to this disaster.
With a trembling sigh, Richie finally decided to tell the smaller male the truth. "My dad did it. He was drunk, pushed me down the stairs, slapped me, beat me until I was almost unconscious. I managed to make it up to my room before passing out." He explained, refusing to look at Eddie while he spoke. "Guess I was out for quite some time if you showed up." He finished, sneaking a glance at the smaller male.
Eddie looked furious. If looks could kill then Wentworth would be dead ten times over. How could someone beat a defenseless child like that? How could a father beat his own son like that? The longer he thought about it, the more the rage bubbled up. How long had Richie been suffering? Why hadn't he said anything sooner? The questions raced through Eddies thoughts, making him hate Richie's parents more and more. "'Chee. What that pathetic excuse of a man did to you isn't okay... you need to go to the hospital, tell them what happened! The police can-"
"Can what, Eds? Pack me up and send me to a foster home states away? It'll be the same shit just a different family Eddie. I'm better off here. I've put up with it for this long, what's a few more years?" Richie rasped out, his voice devoid of any emotion. He felt absolutely numb. He had never wanted to see the look of anger and pity in Eddie's eyes, he had never wanted him to find out about his shit show of a home life. He knew it would change things, of course it would. Who wouldn't look at poor little Richie differently? His mommy and daddy were abusive alcoholics, he was fragile, bound to shatter like a porcelain doll.
Fuck. Richie hated the pitying looks he got from teachers when he came in with a fresh bruise. But the look in Eddie's eyes was so much worse. "Look, Spaghetti, I appreciate the help and the talk, I really do. But I need to get ready for my date with your mom, so if you could kindly fuck right off out of my house, that'd be great." Richie gave a halfassed smile, trying desperately to joke his way out of his current situation. He needed to be alone, the air was suffocating him, and he'd be damned if Eddie saw him break down. Sweet Eddie had already seen too much, he already knew too much. He couldn't see this.
"Stop fucking around Richie. I'm getting you out of here." Eddie grumbled, rolling his eyes at his friends lame attempt of a joke. "Pack a bag, you're staying with me tonight, we can tell everyone else what's going on tomorrow. I'm sure Bill can come up with a plan." He nodded, not giving the raven haired boy much of a choice in the matter.
"I love it when you get all forceful and order me around Eddie-Bear." Richie laughed, pushing himself out of the comfort of his bed. He knew these next few days were going to be rough. He just didn't realize the extent of it all, yet.
