𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

2. Should We Be Worried?

September 30, 1984

Richie flopped (or somersaulted as Stan would have said) onto the lid of the toilet causing it to shake and rattle.

"Jesus fucking christ Richard! You fat ass." Stan expressed through clenched teeth.

"The dick Urine? What the actual fuck?" Stanley raised his eyebrows confusion radiating off his face. Was the joke too far? "You're saying that Jesus is trying to fuck himself?" The boy's mouth opened and then closed. He was having trouble comprehending what the boy just said.

"What the shit does that even mean?"

"It means that Jesus is trying to get a little freaky with himself." Richie said wiggling his eyebrows. Stanley groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was ready to strangle Richie (again).

"Can you just shut your mouth? So I can clean you up." Richie smirked knowing that he won this little banter. "On the counter, please." Stan watched as his friend stood from his toilet and jumped onto the edge of the counter.

The jewish boy couldn't help but allow the breath he was holding out as he examined the face that was in front of him. He ran a washcloth over some cold water and grabbed some Neosporin and bandaids, placing them by the sink. He went and place the towel onto Richie's cuts but immediately retreated his hand as he noticed the boy jumped from the sudden contact. Something wasn't right. "God Rich, are you one hundred percent sure that Victor and Belch were the ones that actually did this?"

He knew his friend was lying, the was no way he wasn't. Even though Richie's never actually said his parents were abusive all the losers could tell that was the case. But this seemed more than that, something so much more.

"Yes, Staniel, I'm a hundred, thousand percent sure!" Richie attempted the most cheery voice he could but the Uris boy could still sense the fear and pain that he was holding back.

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Richie let out a quiet sigh as he threw himself onto his best friend's bed. Digging his face into one of his friends pillows. He always felt safe and claim, never anxious at the Uris' household. Almost everything about it is different from his own. It never smelt like alcohol and vomit. It was always clean and welcoming, and he was never scared to walk in.

"Why 'ello Mr. Stanny Manny" Richie said in a british accent as his friend walked through the door. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm heading downstairs to talk to my parents, do you want me to get you anything?"

He shook his head. "Nope, I'm all good."

"Oh, a before I forget, do you want to get some clothes from your place tomorrow?" Stanley cursed himself for not keeping some of his stuff here so the two of them wouldn't have to go back to that god-awful place.

"Uh yes, yeah. My parents won't be home so we can get somethings."

Stan let a small smirk come onto his mouth "Perfect." He now didn't need to worry about running into them.

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Mr. and Mrs. Uris sat in the living room begin frightened for Richie's home life. He almost always comes over every day and they always notice new bruises.

"Donald, I don't think Richie should go back home." Andrea explained to her husband.

"I agree, but we're not sure that this is Wentworth and Maggie's doing. I don't want to have to take away his parents if they didn't do anything wrong." Andrea let out an irritated sigh. Then Donald repeated his wife's same action, then rested a loving hand on the small of her back.

"This is what we will do. We have Richie stay here for at least a week or two. If there aren't any new bruises while he's here, we'll have him stay here and we'll bring the police into this." He then set a kiss on her forehead and felt her nod. Andrea was about to say something but was interrupted by Stan entering the room.

"Is everything alright? Where's Richie?" His mother asked. Stan yes did feel that she liked Richie more, but he was happy that someone besides himself was afraid for his best friend.

"Richie's in my room but I wanted to talk to you guys." His parents could tell that he's extremely anxious. "What I wanted to say was, I think Richie's parents are abusing him." He's parents now we're extremely horrified. Was it true? Even their son believes it. "And I have a feeling that something even worse happened today."

"What do you mean?" The Rabbi asked.

"When I found Richie, I set my hand onto his shoulder the minute he felt it he jumped as if he was scared of being touched."

"What are you trying to say, Stanley?"

"I'm trying to say that it's obvious that his parents are abusing him but now I'm very worried that he's been well assaulted or I don't know harassed maybe by someone." Both of his parents froze. They don't want to believe that, Richie was just like a son. How the fuck can someone do that? "It's just with the way he's been acting, something horrible had to have happened to cause this."

"Well, Stanley if it is true that Wentworth and Maggie are abusing him maybe that's just why he was scared when you touched him." Andrea said. She was just trying to make up excuses now, she doesn't want it to be true. Stanley's jaw began to clench but he just shook his head.

"He's never done anything like that before, until tonight. He even seemed scared when I tried to help him clean his face, Mom."

"Alright, we believe you." Then his father motions for him to sit down.

"Your mother and I were discussing this. We're going to have Richie stay here for the next week or two. If he doesn't come back with any more bruises while he's staying here, we're going to call the police." Stan did the unexpected, he ran to his parents and gave them both a hug.

"Thank you." Stanley simply said.

"Of course Stan. We love you and Richie very much." Stan felt a grin prickle his mouth. Once Stan got up he started to say something.

"Can Richie and I pick up some clothes for him tomorrow? He said that his parents won't be home."

"Of course you can." His mother said kindly.

Stanley smiled at them then began to head upstairs.

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The OCD boy began to say, "So Rich-." He paused as he saw him fast asleep on top of his bedsheets. Stan went and grabbed a blanket and was about to set it on top of him. But he began to notice his tattered t-shirt was riding upwards a bit and his sleeves were being pulled down slightly. Showing him evidence towards his point. There are dark pink tiny bruises around the part of his neck that connected to his collarbone and fingerprints were imprinted around his hips.

"I promise Rich whatever bastard did this to you, will fucking pay." Stan whispered.

Author's note

Hello, my flowerboys!! How are you losers today? So this chapter I feel isn't that interesting but I wanted this discussion to happen.  So I guess you can say this is more of a filler chapter. Anyway, I hope you at least enjoyed it and remember if your suffering any abuse or even just need some help please at least talk to someone. I love you my flowerboys! See you next week!