fifteen // reddie

4.0

"H-Happy fifteenth birthday." Eddie tells Richie- the whole club was walking back from a celebration they had at the quarry for his fifteenth birthday. He was the first of the group to turn fifteen, and part of Eddie had been wanting to go up to him an pinch him the entire day, trying to see if maybe he'd feel the pinch, too. But he held himself back. No need to get his hopes up.

They are on their way to their bikes, which were planted a bit away from where they entered the quarry, considering they'd get in trouble for jumping into it if they were caught. Ben was the one who had suggested they don't leave their bikes hanging around to link them to the 'crime'. That had made Beverly laugh.

"Eds, you're so adorably sweet!" Richie teases back, draping his arm over Eddie's shoulder and putting their heads together. Eddie is about to tell him not to call him that for the billionth time when a new voice rings out.

"Happy fifteenth birthday, fag!" It says, and everyone stops. It's that fucking lunatic, Henry Bowers, who is obviously up to no good. Eddie's thoughts are proved correct when he feels Richie jerk back from him, and he feels his stomach drop. He attempts to grab at Richie in order to keep him away from the bullies, but they're too fast. His fingers link with the floral shirt for a moment before sliding off, sending Richie backwards into the clutches of evil known as entitled psycho republicans.

Eddie hates this. He hates how scared he feels, how his hand is shaking, how if he wasn't frozen, staring at Richie, he would be desperately searching for his inhaler he doesn't really need. Richie is clearly struggling- Patrick Hockstetter his behind him, howling him by the neck, while Vic and Belch have his arms, meaning all Richie can do is kick his legs but even that wouldn't have much effect.

Especially when Eddie sees the knife in Henry's hand.

He's gonna kill him. Eddie thinks immediately, and sheer terror rips through him. It only makes sense that Henry would have snapped one of these days, but Eddie had never considered it would be his friend group Henry would snap at. There were plenty of other kids he tortured. Eddie hadn't allowed himself to ever imagine this situation: six children frozen in fright, four executioners, and a prisoner who's only crime is a rumor that he's gay.

"Bowers..." Beverly warned, being the only one who ironically had the balls to say anything. She protectively gets closer to Ben, who is no doubt wondering if another Loser can get out of this situation for the second time.

"Come on, man, not on my birthday." Richie jokes. He's trying to wriggle out of their grip, but it's not working. How is Richie joking at a time like this? Eddie can't fucking breath.

"Of course, on your birthday! I heard all the commotion. I just came to help." Henry taunts, flashing his knife around like it's a toy and they're all five years old.

"You're a fucking asshole." Richie hisses. Eddie feels his knees shake. Stupid, stupid, shut your mouth, Trashmouth, please! He grabs Stan's arm now, his heart slamming against his chest. Someone's breathing really loud. Is it Eddie? He can't tell.

"Don't tempt me!" Henry growls- he doesn't doubt for a second that Henry's going to make the next few minutes excruciating for the seven of them.

"Well, you're gonna do it anyway, asshole!"

Eddie can't move or talk, but if he could, he'd beg someone to do something. Bill, who's the leader, is standing in front of all them, closer to Henry than any of the others except Richie. But he knows nobody can do anything now. Henry has the knife and a hostage.

And then Henry has a wad of spit from Richie's mouth flying at his face.

Eddie can't even mentally scold Richie's stupidity before Henry kills him.

Okay. In hindsight, Eddie should have realized that Henry hadn't stabbed Richie or even slashed his skin too deep, but at the time, Eddie had genuinely thought Henry had murdered Richie. The second he sees the knife make contact with Richie's skin and blood seep out the cut, his heart feels like it splits. There's a searing pain and he cries out, and while some Losers are yelling Richie's name, Stan and Mike are calling Eddie's. Eddie's grip on Stan's arm loosens and he falls, the heart-splitting pain still there, like a slash across his chest.

Like a knife slashed across his chest.

Eddie doesn't have time to process this thought because the pain gets worse, invisible punches and kicks landing all over his body. He's confused. He's scared. Stan is on his knees by his side and Mike is crouched on the other side of him, and both of them are probably asking him what's wrong but Eddie can't respond. All he can do is stare at the ground beneath him, shaking. He really can't breath now. Eddie vaguely realizes Mike leave and more shouting, then the onslaught of pain stops, leaving him aching. He looks over to Richie, who's similarly on the ground, but not covered with bullies. Instead, Henry and his gang are running away, laughing maniacally.

The boy next to him is saying words lowly to him, telling him to breath. "Eddie?" Richie's weak voice groans, but he can't respond. This is where Eddie realizes he's gasping for air, wheezing worse than he ever had. He pushes himself backwards so instead of being on his hands and knees, his sitting up back on top of his calves; the pavement hurts his knees but he can't care less.

Eddie blindly reaches his hand towards Stan. He's helped up. "Eddie, come on." Stan is saying softly, guiding him towards a large rock. Eddie sits on it, his knees shaking. He's still gripping Stan's arm, but has to let go in order to hastily yank his aspirator out of his fanny pack, bringing it to his lips and spraying it into his through, breathing gratefully.

"Richie's your soulmate!" Stan whisper-shouts once Eddie has finally received oxygen. 

The words resonate with Eddie, banging in his skull. "Richie's my soulmate." He repeats.

"At least that's cool, right?" Stan says. "That's good news, Eddie. Take deep breaths for me." 

"Is Richie dead?" Eddie asks next, even though he knows he isn't. Yet.

Stan quickly shoots a look over his shoulder, then incredulously looks back at Eddie. "Richie's fine."

Eddie brings his hand to his chest, feeling at an invisible cut with pain that's starting to go down for him already, but he knows not nearly as relenting for his best friend. Who is his soulmate. Who he has a massive crush on. Who is on the ground bleeding, and just got the shit beaten out of him. Eddie's wheezing gets worse. 

"You need to calm down!"

Suddenly, Eddie feels a wave of guilt wash over him that he instinctively knows is not his own- his eyes immediately turn towards Richie, who is surrounded by the other four Losers. He's staring at Eddie with sad eyes that tell Eddie the guilt is not his own.

"This is not your fault." Eddie reassures him.

"Jesus, Eds, you're acting like you're the one who had got beat up." Richie laughs, but it's shaky and sounds painful.

Eddie lets out a weak laugh of his own. "Like, technically, I guess." He says calmly, looking to his soulmate. He can't help it- his soulmate- and breaks out into a huge grin. He's had a crush on Richie for forever now, and Bev had insisted that is was reciprocated but never told him why she thought that. And now Richie's his soulmate.

Stan starts to laugh, which creates a chain reaction. Soon, the five other all are laughing hysterically while Eddie watches Richie's expression go from confused, to shocked, then to-

Eddie's heart stops.

Richie looks sad.