Homophobic slurs and mentions of child abuse and (some) blood ahead.

It's gonna get much worse for Richie before it gets better, but when it gets better? Well, the boy will never have been happier.

Sorry it's shorter, the next chapter will definitely be longer! We have lot's to cover!

Thank you all for the support for this story and lovely comments, they make my day!


"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Henry crowed. "Why up so early on Christmas Eve, Bucky?" He asked. Richie ignored him, just staring at his phone. He'd seen a couple rabbits hopping around a few feet away from him and was recording them on his phone, but of course, the demon of Derry had to scare them away. Without stopping the recording, Richie put his phone down on the ground next to him. "Fucking faggot, cry baby. What'cha crying for? Daddy make you mad?"

"You're one to talk about daddy making you mad. It's the other way around for you." Richie replied. "We all know he beats you to a fucking pulp on the weekends, Bowers. I'd say I wouldn't blame him but that's fucked up to do to their own kid." Henry sort of froze for a split second, and sneered.

"You don't know anything, fag."

"Me being a fag doesn't have a damn thing to do with you. It isn't hurting you so shut the fuck up about it already." Richie huffed. He knew he was about to get his ass beat, he's been waiting for it for a while. Might as well get it over with.

"Fags are disgusting."

"Well you and me both are disgusting, Bowers. Don't think I forgot you going down on Hockey in the bathroom in middle school." First punch- thrown. Knocked him right out of the swing. "You can do better than that, I'm not even bleeding!" He felt his old self start coming back, ever so slightly as he spoke. That's not gonna end well for me. Henry hit him again, before he had a chance to stand back up. No use in fighting back, he'd lose anyway.

"You're too much of a fag to fight back, huh? You get your dick sucked for the first time and regretting it? That why you don't care if I kill you?"

"I didn't say all that, now." Richie stood up, shaking his head and wiping blood from under his nose.

"Oh? Or do you get off on getting your ass beat? That what it is?"

"Hell yeah, Bowers. Pull my hair and slap me again- I'm all yours." Richie deadpanned. "You see," Richie began wringing his hands, "people are like glow sticks. They've got to be broken to show who they really are. The thing is, some people come back stronger than ever- are better versions of themselves. Some… don't. Like you, Bowers. You've been broken so many times you don't- how should I put this? You don't work anymore. You don't know how to be a decent human being and you're fine with it. And I know this isn't gonna change the fact that you're gonna beat the shit outta me, but I just thought I'd get that out there."

"I'm itching to kill you…" Henry purred. Richie shrugged, wiping under his nose again.

"Then scratch it."


It was eight in the morning when Bev woke up, having to pee. She hauled herself out of bed and opened her door, nearly tripping over a box in front of her door.

"The fuck-?" She leaned down and picked it up, looking to see if there was a tag. What she found was a short note. She ran over to her bed, thoughts of going to the bathroom long gone. She put it on her bed and grabbed her phone, texting the group chat until everyone replied- which surprisingly didn't take long.

The Losers Club!3

(8:12 AM) Mammy Bev- guys go look out your front doors and see if you got a gift from Richie with a note on it.

(8:14) Spagheds- what the fuck what is this shit

(8:15) Billy Bill- what the hell? Everyone send pics of the notes.

(everyone sent them at almost the exact same time)

(8:15) Micky- Bev is Richie home?

(8:17) Mammy Bev- no I just busted in his room and his bed is 100% empty. His sheets are cold so he's been gone a while.

(8:18) Spagheds- why is mine so different from you guys he's just talking about my mom.
(8:18) Spagheds- which isn't unusual, but why did he say (jokes, etc) you don't use etc unless there are like two or more examples.

(8:19) Stan the Man- Eddie that's not important right now.

(8:23) Mammy Bev- I've been calling him but no answer

(8:24) Mammy Bev- something's wrong. Maggie just came in my room in panic mode and said she had a bad feeling and asked if I knew where Richie went and she started crying.

(8:24) Mammy Bev- I've never seen her cry

(8:25) Pappy Ben- everyone start texting and calling Richie- make new group chats if you have too because he's probably muted everyone. If no one gets anything in ten minutes text this chat and then we'll go to the Tozier's house.

(8:35) Billy Bill- still nothing I'm about to walk out the door now.

(8:36) Micky- I'm getting changed and I'll be there soon.

(8:39) Spagheds- I'll be there asap I gotta get passed my mom she's already awake. I woke her up when I went to the door.


"Someone please explain what the hell is going on?" Went asked, looking between his wife and (almost) adopted daughter. "It's too early for me to be awake on Christmas Eve."

"I have a bad feeling, Went." Maggie said, biting at her thumb nail. He put a comforting hand on her knee. "Something's wrong."

"With…?" He looked at her, and eyebrow raised. She shook her head.

"No, with Richie."

"Ah, yeah… I can't say I don't have a weird feeling either." The three looked at each other in silence for a moment or two, but the silence was broken by a loud knock on the door, making a few of them jump. Went jumped up and opened the door, Bev following close behind.

"Uh, hi, I'm assuming this is Richie's house because Goddamn he looks like you." Greta said.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Greta."

"Why are you here?" Bev asked, nudging Went out of the way and crossing her arms.

"Well, I was on my way to my grandma's house when I saw your friend sitting on the side of the road with blood all over him and talking gibberish." She moved to the side to show Richie stumbling up the driveway, knees buckling and catching himself with his hands. He muttered something as Bev and Went darted out the door and to Richie's side, helping him up. Went put Richie's face in his hands, making his son look at him.

"-laser beam, guaranteed- Oh, hey... hey dad!" Richie muttered. "Fancy seeing you... here."

"This is your house." Went said, brushing hair out of Richie's face to get a good look at him.

"Oh, is... it?" Richie squinted at the house, one eye nearly swollen shut. Then Went realized he wasn't wearing his glasses- and apparently no contacts either. "Huh"

"What happened to you?" Went cooed. Richie shrugged painfully and started walking towards the house. He stumbled and almost face planted but Went caught him. Bev didn't really know what to do or say, she stared at him in disbelief- wondering how the hell he was standing up right- and had her hands hovering over him rather than touching him.

"Feel better, Tozier." Greta said, making a face as she walked by the two.

"Thanks… G." Richie saluted her and hugged his arms to his chest. He cleared his throat and looked at his dad. "Where's mom? I... want ma."

"I think you need to go to the hospital, Richie."

"No, no, no, no." Richie shook his head with every no, standing as tall as he could. Went could see the pain in his features when he did so- so he knew something was wrong. "I want... mama." He said pitifully.

"Okay, come on. If she says go, you're going. Understood?"

"Always listen... to mama. It what…. you always tol' me!" Richie nodded.

"Hey Bev, can you go get the comforter off Richie's bed and bring it downstairs?" Went told her as he made his way up the steps, practically carrying a babbling Richie.

"Yeah." She ran inside.

"Bev's here?" Richie asked, tilting his head to the side.

"She just walked by- she lives here, son." Went looked down at him- his heart ached at what he saw. There was a cut on his cheek, bleeding a little still, one above his swollen eye that will probably need stitches, a busted lip- possibly broken nose. Who knows what's underneath his clothes. His cheeks were red and splotchy from the cold-and probable tears he'd shed.

What the hell have I been missing?

"Oh."

"Richie?" Maggie exclaimed, rushing out of the door. She ran down the steps and hugged him tight.

"Owie." He muttered into her shoulder. "Hi, ma."

"What the hell happened to you?" She asked, pulling away and taking his face in her hands, brushing his hair back to get a good look at his face. "Oh my God, who did this to you?"

"Bowers." Bev said, putting the blanket over Richie as Went and Maggie lead the teen into the house. "Bowers has been plotting Richie's murder for weeks."

"Same." Richie muttered.

"What?" Maggie asked.

"What?" Richie looked at her.

"But he won't get in trouble because Bowers never gets in trouble." She hissed. "We never have proof that it was him." Richie let out a painful chuckle and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, swaying slightly.

"I have proof… Bevs." Bev literally wanted to burst into tears the second he spoke to her. Richie handed the phone to her. He wiggled painfully out of his mother's arms and went to walk up the stairs.

"What the- where do you think you're going?" Maggie asked, following him. "You need to go get checked out at the hospital."

"No!" He whined. "I just wanna... go cry myself to...to sleep some more, okay?"

"No, you're going to the hospital, Richie." Bev said. "We want what's best for you and-"

"Oh my God." Maggie gasped. Richie hit the ground quick, before anyone could even move.

"No, no, no, no." He buried his face in his hands. "You don't… you don't want what's best… best… fuck. Best for me... you don't care. You hate me, I hate me." He sobbed. He gasped and clasped his hands over his chest and stomach, coughing. "It hurts." He gasped out.

"Dammit- Bev, go get the car started." Went said, crouching in front of his son.

"I don't... want to go." He cried.

"I know you don't, but Richie- Richie, look at me , son." He lifted Richie's chin with his hand and he saw blood coming from his mouth. He looked at Richie's hands and saw blood there too. "Dammit." He stood up and picked Richie up as carefully as he could, literally carrying him. Richie squirmed for a solid second before giving up and letting his dad carry him out the door.