Disclaimer: I do not own IT or any of the characters. That all belongs to the awesome and talented Stephen King. I only own my OC and other characters I make up along the way.
A/N: I told myself I wasn't going to write another chapter, but I saw a poster for the movie and it showed Richie with a baseball bat and it immediately made me think of Gwen because her character plays softball. I was like OMG that fits perfectly with the story! Gah! Anyways, this chapter focuses more on Richie. I hope you guys like it. Some of the concepts of Richie's issues, I grabbed from the novel, because I remember when reading the novel that Richie's life wasn't as traumatic or horrible as the others, but he was heavily misunderstood by his parents, mainly by his mother. Neither one of them though listened to what he had to say. I tried my best making that clear in this chapter. As well as the brother-sister problems Gwen and Richie are going through at the moment.
"Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply" ― Jane Austen
Chapter 3: Brother and Sister
Richie Tozier was not a serious person. Anyone who knew him or who even lived in the small town of Derry was well aware of that. Except there was only one thing he was ever really serious about and that was his older sister's well-being.
He was seriously concerned about Gwen. She'd been acting different. She was not herself. Not at all.
For some time now all she'd been doing was locking herself in her room. Not wanting to spend time with him or their parents. The only person who got her to leave the house, other than for school, was her best friend, Francine.
Now Richie knew why Gwen was being this way. She lost someone very close to her...a friend. And it had been in a terrible way. Although Richie found it more disturbing than terrible, Gwen was affected by this tragedy pretty bad.
The teen was no longer that word bubbly person she used to be. She'd barely even really spoke to him. In all honesty, it felt like she was ignoring him. And that hurt Richie. He didn't want more space between his sister and him. There was already enough space there. More space just meant they would grow further apart.
He tried telling his parents about his concern for Gwen, but that didn't go so well as he remembered.
...
"But mom, she's been locked up in her room." Richie yet again pestered to his mother.
Maggie Tozier threw her son a look. "She's grieving Richie. Leave her be."
"But she's by herself..."
"That's what she wants. Now enough with the questions. Eat your breakfast. God knows I didn't work hard on it for it to just get cold."
"Best not to argue with her son." Wentworth told his son casually. "You know how she is." He gave him a side glance before he once again focused on the newspaper he was reading. The one he currently found more interesting than his son.
Richie mumbled a witty response before he finally started eating his food.
...
The sad thing was that wasn't the only time his parents didn't listen to him. Out of the two of them, his mother was the least responsive to him. As he knows now, she had never really understood him. He recalled a time when he had eavesdropped a conversation between his mother and father, with his mother saying...
"I just don't get it, Wentworth. Gwen has the same problem, but she's more controlling with her behavior. Why can't Richie be the same way? I just don't understand him the way I understand Gwen."
There was humor in that sentence, and that was because their mother didn't understand Gwen either. She liked to believe she did, but Richie knew the truth. Gwen was as misunderstood as he was by their own mother. It's just that Maggie preferred to think otherwise when it came to her daughter. To an outsider a mother not understanding her own son would be viewed as normal, but a mother not understanding her daughter...well that would be viewed negatively.
To Richie it was ridiculous, but he still found himself jealous of his sister at times. Mainly because she was understood by their parents...or at least they'd pretend they understood her. With him they didn't. The least they could do was try...but they didn't.
Jealous or not, Richie was still trying to do his best to get through his older sister.
Hence why he stood in front of her bedroom door. He was about to leave for school, but before he did so, he wanted to check up on Gwen. The possibility of walking to school together like they used to made him active. More so because he really wanted to talk to her.
Richie softly knocked on her door. "Gwen?" He called out.
"Go away, Richie." Came a halfhearted muffled response. In all honesty it sounded like she had been crying again. This made him knock again.
"Come on, Gwen." When there was no answer he decided to take the lighthearted approach. "Pretty please?" He asked, doing the best girly voice he could do. When silence continued to linger he became more serious. "Gwen...please, I just want to talk to you."
An unexpected hard kick to the door made Richie back away with wide eyes.
"I said go away! Leave me the hell alone!"
Richie let out a defeated sigh. He gave her bedroom door one last lingering look before he started walking away.
And once again, for what seemed like the hundredth time, Richie wished things between his sister and him were how they used to be. Back to a time when she and him were close and weren't the strangers they were now.
"My mom thinks I'm overreacting, but I don't know. Gwen's been so different lately. And I get it...she lost someone, but her sadness has taken a new level. I don't like it." Richie confessed to his close friend, Stan the Man. They just ended school and were now walking homes. He fixed his glasses, letting out a sigh. "I want to help but she won't even let me talk to her."
Stanley Uris didn't like hearing how his long time crush was suffering. He especially didn't like how dispirited Richie sounded. His friend, who rarely ever appeared to be in a serious mood. But as he knows for himself, when it came to his sister, Richie was serious as ever. Stan was as well. "I know what you mean." He mumbled, doleful. A few seconds passed before he spoke again. This time his voice perked up a bit. "I saw her the other day though and she seemed a bit better."
This new information certainly caught Richie's attention. Behind his glasses, his dark eyes narrowed. "You talked to her? When?" He vehemently questioned. Why hadn't he told him this sooner?
"The other day." Stan simply informed him. He was not at all bothered by how fervent Richie was being with him. He might not always like how he acted at times, but by now the curly haired boy was used to his bespectacled friend's behavior. "She stopped by Chase's house." He finished explaining to him. His heart ached when he remembered how crestfallen Gwen looked when staring at the now empty blue house.
"Oh." Richie uttered.
Stan became sheepish. He glanced at his shoes. "She really liked him, huh?"
Richie nodded his head. "Yeah...she did. I once read her diary and based on what she wrote I think if she gotten more time with him she might have even fallen in love." He failed to realize who he was saying this to. Once his brain caught up with what he said, his eyes widened. He looked over to his friend. "Shit, sorry, Stan." He sheepishly apologized. Although he liked to tease Stan about his crush on his sister, he knew there were limits to his teasing. What he said before wasn't for amusement, but he still wanted to apologize.
The urge to reprimand Richie for invading Gwen's privacy was strong, but Stan didn't act on it. Instead he was quiet, thoughtful. He ended up shrugging one of his shoulders. "It's okay..." He murmured. Although inside he couldn't deny feeling dejected. "It's terrible about what happened to him." He softly said. And he truly believed that. What had happened to Chase Campbell was terrible.
There was silence before Richie broke it with a thought provoking question.
"Do you really think he did it?"
Stan frowned. "What?"
Richie threw him an earnest expression. "Killed himself." He elaborated.
Stan came to a stop, as did Richie. He looked at his friend oddly. "What kind of question is that? Do you really think he did it? Richie, the police said he cut his wrists. It was suicide."
Richie shook his head. "It just doesn't make sense to me and I know it doesn't to Gwen either."
"Your sister is grieving." Stan explained like the logical person he was. "When a person grieves it's normal for them to start making up excuses as to why a person died. Especially if they were close. It's supposed to help them feel better about the person's passing."
Richie rolled his eyes. He did not like this reasoning at all. "God, you sound like my mother."
"It's an understandable reasoning!" Stan argued.
"Understandable." Richie scoffed. He hated that word. "Understandable my ass. Nothing is understandable anymore."
Stan became puzzled by his reply. "What do you mean?"
"Look at what we have here."
If there was ever a time Richie wanted to run away like Road Runner, it would be now. But he knew he couldn't do that.
First, because although he considered himself a fast runner, he knew his chances of escaping Henry's wrath right now was slim to none. Especially because of how close he was to him. He'd out ran him before but luck had been on his side during those times. Right now he had a feeling luck wasn't leaning towards him today. And second, because he was with Stan the Man. Stan wasn't much of a runner, and Richie wasn't about to leave behind his friend. Not with Henry. They had to stick together.
Both boys watched unnerved as the familiar group of older boys that bothered them came their way.
Henry Bowers, Belch Huggins, and Victor Criss.
Although the situation wasn't looking good, both younger boys were mildly relieved when they didn't see Patrick Hockstetter with them.
Stan noticed that Henry was in the front. As always. He was the leader after all. He ran the shots. Stan discreetly looked around the neighborhood hoping to see someone. Anyone really. But there was no one. Something deep within him told that even if there was someone, that they wouldn't have helped.
As horrible as it was to admit they were on their own.
Henry smirked once he was in front of them, blocking their way. Stan lowered his eyes, clearly scared, but Henry was quick to zero in on Richie. The Tozier boy was trying his hardest to not show any ounce of fear in his eyes. Henry wasn't liking that. If he wasn't going to show fear, he wanted to cause another reaction out of him, and he knew exactly how. "Hey Four-Eyes, where's that sister of yours?"
"Don't talk about my sister, Bowers." Richie grumbled.
Henry continued to agitate him. "Just asking. I only ever really see her with that blonde bitch, Francine. It makes me wonder..."
"What?" Richie asked, narrowing his eyes.
Henry sneered. "About the rumors about her. You know? That she's a muff-muncher."
That got a reaction out of the youngest Tozier. "Shut your mouth, you mullet wearing asshole!" Richie immediately retorted back to him. He was livid. Nobody messed with his sister. Nobody. What he said about Gwen's sexual orientation wasn't what was really bothering him. His sister could be straight or gay and he'd be fine with it. What he wasn't fine with was Henry slandering his sister by using a derogatory term for describing her.
Stan felt the same and he was as equally as angry―perhaps even more. He managed to lift up his gaze to throw Henry a glare. "Don't say that about her!" He shouted to him. His crush on the Tozier girl made him momentarily lose his composure. All he wanted to do now was defend her as Richie was doing.
"Would you believe this, Belch and Vic? Four-Eyes and the Jew are actually coming to Gwen's defense." Henry said, chuckling darkly. Belch laughed along with him, while Victor remained quiet. Richie noticed this and narrowed his eyes at him. Victor made sure his expression didn't give away anything as Henry continued his taunting. "Ain't she a lucky girl to have two lame losers like them to have her back."
Richie moved his heated gaze onto Henry. "Eat shit, Bowers!" He shouted unexpectedly. The longer Henry talked the more unpredictable his responses were getting due to his anger.
Henry did not like that insult. His glare intensified. "What did you say to me?" He gave him a warning look. "You better think long and hard before you answer back, Tozier." He narrowed his eyes at him. "Now what did you say to me?"
Richie did not back down. He kept his stance. "I said, eat shit! What, are you too dense to comprehend?" He retorted. A grin then appeared on his face. "Then again, maybe you are. You did get held back once. Are you trying for a second time? Dumbo."
Beside him, Stan was beginning to feel more on edge. He himself didn't like Henry, and would defend Gwen till the end, but Richie was taking this confrontation with Henry way too far. Something bad was going to happen. He felt it. A knowing feeling of some sorts.
"You just don't know when to stop do you, Tozier?" Henry furiously questioned.
"Speak for yourself." Richie fired back at him. He was full of attitude.
Not even ten seconds passed when he made that comment, that Henry's fist connected with Richie's jaw. The hit made the bespectacled boy fall to the ground harshly. His glasses fell off his face, sliding across the ground. They came to a stop right near Victor's feet.
Stan made a move to get them but Henry threw Belch a pointed look, and that was all the teen needed to know what he had to do. Stan was immediately pushed to the ground as well by the massive teen. Unlike Richie, Stan didn't get punched but he landed pretty bad on his left shoulder. He let out a painful groan. Richie was quiet but he grimaced as he lifted up his gaze. He had to really narrow his eyes in order to see his friend was on the ground and to find his glasses. He inwardly panicked when he saw who was near them.
"Don't just stand there, Vic. Step on Trashmouth's glasses!" Henry ordered.
Without his glasses, Richie's eyesight wasn't the greatest but he could have sworn he had seen some type of reluctance pass through Victor's face. But any thought of that went out the window with what proceeded.
Doing as he was told, Victor stepped on the glasses.
Richie groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to happen. He didn't want to tell his parents his glasses got broken...again. They hated paying for new ones.
Henry took in his displeasure. He laughed as he bent down to look at him. He saw how his punch left a good mark on his face. This just made him laugh even more. "Say hello to your sister for me." He then spit, but Richie was glad it landed next to him rather than on his face. Henry began walking away, leaving them behind on the ground. As he passed them, Belch gave a loud burp. Stan was disgusted by the burp as was Richie. Victor on the other hand was quiet and was doing his best to not look at either of them as he passed by.
Richie made sure to throw him a glare. He was the one who broke his glasses. It wasn't until they were far away that Stan slowly stood up. He looked at Richie. "You okay?" He asked his friend worriedly. He was rubbing his left shoulder. It hurt but it didn't feel broken or dislocated. That was a good sign.
Richie stood up as well. He then touched his face. He grimaced when his hand touched the soreness that the punch had left on his jaw. He gave Stan an earnest look. "No, but I will be." He frowned when he once again saw his broken glasses on the floor. He already knew his parents wouldn't believe him when he would tell them the reason with how they got broken. They wouldn't believe him because they never did. He gingerly picked them up. He then glanced at Stan again.
"Are you okay?"
Stan gave him a smile but even without his glasses, Richie knew it wasn't a real one. How could it be real after what happened?
"No, but I will be." He repeated what he had said to him.
That was enough of an answer for Richie. He put the broken pieces of his glasses inside his jean pockets.
"Come on, let's get out of here."
And they did.
Never once did they look back.