||Sinner|| (a Reddie fanfic)

Chapter 12

When Richie woke up the next morning, the first thing he heard was shouting from the other room. This was typical. It happened often, and Richie had grown used to it. He didn't interfere because when he did, his father would blame him for everything and make it seem as if it was Richies fault.

Maggie knew that her husband was abusive. Maggie didn't know that he had done things to Richie such as hit and deprive him of food when she had left to go on business trips. She knew he was verbally abusive, but not physical.

Wentworth rarely ever got violent when Maggie was around, however he had thrown bottles around the house and slammed doors violently.

So when Richie heard the shattering of glass through his doorway, he started to panic. Something seemed off, and soon Richie realized what it was. Besides the loud screams of Wentworth, the house was quiet.

Richie stood up, suddenly alert. He crept over to his door, careful not to make any noise. He sucked a shaky breath in and turned his doorknob slowly. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he peeked around the corner, and felt relief when he saw his mother crammed up against the wall, unharmed.

She had minor cuts along her arms and a bright red handprint across her cheek, but no serious or deadly injuries. She sat, eyes open in terror, pressed tightly against the wall. Richie could tell she was in shock, she never expected Wentworth to harm her. She always promised herself and Richie their fights were something they would get over and work through themselves.

Wentworth hovered over Maggie, the neck of a broken whiskey bottle in his hand. Shards of glass were scattered across the kitchen. Richie knew both of his parents couldn't see him, and he also knew stepping in would make things worse. He kept an eye on his father, and carefully crept out into the hall. As much as he didn't want to, he felt he needed to save his mother.

After a few second of pep talking himself into it, Richie stepped out into the kitchen.

Wentworth turned around, drunken eyes holding steady on his son. He had a distanced look on his face and he sneered at Richie.

"Looks like you finally decided to come and watch the show." Wentworth let out a bark like laugh and waved the neck of the bottle he was holding.

"D-dad." Richie let cool air in through his nose, trying to steady his breath. "Please stop hurting mom."

Wentworth laughed again.

He looked at Richie "I'm not hurting your mother just because I can, Richard, I'm teaching her a lesson."

Richie flinched at the use of his full name, but took a brave step forward.

He brought as much courage into his voice as he could muster, and said "She hasn't done anything wrong. Mom shouldn't be hurt by anyone."

Wentworth's knuckles turned white as he gripped the neck of the bottle he was holding, and advanced on his son. Maggie stayed on the floor of the kitchen without moving. She seemed like she couldn't move even if she wanted to.

Richie paled at the sight of his father advancing in him. He stayed put though, knowing his father couldn't harm him too bad, because school was tomorrow and even Wentworth knew he couldn't give Richie any visible marks.

Eyes narrowed, Wentworth spat foul words at Richie. "Your mother has been disobeying me. Do you know what that means Richard? It means she didn't listen. So she did make a mistake and she has to pay for it. And you made a mistake by showing up in here. You make things worse. It's all you do. So do me a favor and get the fuck out of my house before I have to force you out myself."

Richie tried to shake his head, protest on leaving. Do something to help his mother. But he couldn't even move because of how terrified he was. Richie tried to move himself up the stairs, but his feet felt like blocks of dried cement, gluing him to the floor.

"For fucks sake Richard." Wentworth took a menacing step towards Richie once more, bringing the bottle up so it was level with his face. "Leave."

Richie took a look at Maggie, and she gave him a small nod, urging him to get out before things got worse.

Finally working out how to move his legs, Richie walked toward the door quickly and stepped outside into the cool air. His eyes started to well up with unshed tears. Richie sniffled, and tried to hold the tears in to keep them from spilling over. The tears came despite his best efforts, and Richie gave into them. After a few minutes of thinking, Richie started to walk away from his porch.

He walked through his neighborhood, knowing exactly where he had to go.

Beverly Marsh would understand what he was going through.

She always did. Even if they barely talked and had only seen eye to eye a couple times, Beverly would help. She had a heart of pure gold. Pure kindness which radiated from her fiery head of hair.

So Richie walked.

Sorry for the delay, schools been stressful. Trying to update as much as possible I promise! And 2k reads I'm so grateful!! Thank you guys so much:)

-Emma

Word count: 907