#bring me ED-E pwease

[doesnotloveyou]

finished the fallout show.......................................................................

[film-in-my-soul]

I Can Take A Punch If It’s For You - Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Paring: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Word Count: 2027

Warnings: Richie gets beat up but nothing graphic

Request: @brightlykaspbrak : Reddie mini fic where Eddie is being bullied by someone in school and Richie defends him, pwease

I hope you like what I wrote. I think it came out better than Short Stuff because it wasn’t done when I was half asleep XD

This turned out longer than I planned….

Requests OPEN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie was late.

Eddie was never late.

At least not by the ten minutes that he was already.

Richie fidgeted with his handlebars, not wanting to voice his worries outwards, lest it ruin the reputation he had among his group of friends. Luckily for him, Bill was a natural worrier and did the voicing for him.

“Eddie’s s-su-sure taking a l-long time.”

“He probably couldn’t reach any of the door handles.” Richie wanted to “beep” himself and his big mouth. He’d been a smart mouth for so long he didn't know how to turn it off half of the time. Stan, who was standing beside him rolled his eyes.

“First, not funny Richie, second most of the doors are push bars so how would that even work?” Richie could tell that he'd already managed to make the other boy exasperated. Usually, he’d find more joy in getting under Stan’s skin so quickly but they both know the reason behind such an easy invasion is because Eddie wasn't where he should be.

A silence passed over The Losers Club until Richie heaved a dramatic sigh, throwing both his head and shoulders back.

“I’ll go get him.” He made a show of trudging up the stairs in front of the school.  Once the doors opened and closed behind him, however, he straightened up automatically and headed in the direction of Eddie’s locker.

Richie rounded the two corners that would take him there.

Nothing.

Okay. If not there Richie couldn’t think where -

Richie’s head snapped up, there was noise coming further in the school. It was laughter and a voice, muffled, coming from up ahead and getting fainter.

There was the sound of something scuffing against the ground.

“Guys…. Come on....”

Eddie.

Even from a distance, Richie would know that voice anywhere. Just on the side of still too high for being close to fourteen. He sounded panicked and something uncomfortable wiggled low in Richie’s gut at his friend’s tone. It made Richie hurry his pace along, close to jogging as the sounds got louder.

Since Bowers’ gang had either been mostly picked off and leaderless the rest of the middle school/high school neanderthals were constantly scrambling for the position of Derry’s Ruling Junior Douche-canoe. Unfortunately for The Loser’s club that meant it was open season and they were the rabbits.

A shriek and the sound of something thunking against lockers had Richie kicking up his speed in an attempt to round the last of the corners. Whoever built the school like they had were a bunch of bully-enabling jackasses.

“Fucking put me down!” Eddie’s tone was more hysterical than threatening and it made Richie clench his jaw as he rounded hopefully what would be the last corner.

Richie slowed down to a creeping step as he peeked around the edge of the abandoned hall. What he saw made his blood boil under his skin, it made his vision turn a fuzzy red around the edges, his nails dig into his palm and Richie bared his teeth, wanting nothing more than to shout for them to put the smaller boy back on the ground.

Eddie was being suspended a good six inches off the ground by two scrawny, rat-faced upper-class men, they had height and upper body strength but no real bulk between them. It looked like his back was digging painfully into the handles of the lockers by the grimace on his face. In front of him stood, Richie presumed, the leader.

Now he was a bigger problem.

Much bigger.

At least the size of both of the other boys combined.

He still loomed over Eddie even while he was being lifted into the air, getting in the smaller boys face to the point where Eddie had to turn his head in an attempt to get away, eyes screwed shut, an almost aborted whine crawling up his throat.

Richie squared his shoulders.

He’d faced off against a child eating clown, covered in sewer water and scared out of his fucking mind.

This. This would be easy.

At least, not as bad…

Still…

Richie really didn’t like getting punched.

The leader of the trio took a step away from Eddie and pulled his arm back.

Really Richie didn’t have a choice at that point.

He might not like being hit but the thought of Eddie being hit was worse than any kind of physical pain. The idea of it alone twisted up his stomach and had his shoulders shaking.

In the middle of the bully bringing his fist down Richie dashed out from his hiding spot and barreled right into him, thankfully taking him off guard enough to send him staggering back and onto to his rear. The goons were also caught by surprise enough to drop Eddie ungraciously to the ground.

Richie noted with relief that his friend didn’t stumble too hard and fall himself.

The bad news was now all three of the older boys had rounded on their new victim. And Eddie probably hadn’t done anything to get them to single him out. Richie, on the other hand, had just given them enough ammo to really bring the hurt.

He cast his frantic gaze to Eddie who was still standing, surprised at his sudden rescue. The circle the group had made around him was getting smaller.

“Get the fuck out of here Eds!” He yelled. Once they were done kicking his ass they’d surely move on to their original target.

Thankfully Eddie’s sense of self-preservation seemed to win out over his not wanting to let Richie take the beating that was meant for him. He took off running down the hall at a speed Richie knew would get his sorta fake asthma into a fit.

One of the two skinner punks turned to watch Eddie go, even moving so far as to take a step, thinking about giving him chase. Richie didn’t like that. So of course, he did what he does best. He opened his mouth.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t rough me up too bad, your mom doesn’t like it when -” he’s cut off by a sudden pain in his stomach, the air knocked out of his lungs, the force of the punch almost enough to send him to his knees.

He only had a couple of seconds to get ready to fight back when everything started blending into one big pile of pain.

~*~*~*~

Eddie didn't run very fast for a lot of reasons. One of the biggest reasons was that his body still thought he had asthma when he and everyone else knew that it really wasn’t the case. That being said Eddie wasn’t thinking about the impending lack of breath that was going to strike because he’d just left his best friend in the clutches of three really nasty upperclassmen who were not by any means fucking around.

Eddie, with no regard for germs or the potential of falling and breaking his arm again, threw open the front door of the school and raced down the steps to where Billy, Mike, Bev, Ben, and Stan were all waiting, alternating between checking their watches and looking up at the sky.

Eddie’s sudden and panicked appearance had them tensing.

“E-Eddie wh-wh-what -” Bill tried getting out. The shorter boy didn’t give him the chance to stutter to a finish.

“It’s Richie … he… fuck…” Eddie broke off, hands digging into his knees as he panted. “He’s about to get the shit kicked out of him.” With that, he turned around and sprinted back into the school. The sound of bikes dropping and sneakers slapping harshly on pavement following him.

Bill and Mike easily overtook his much shorter legs but they all managed to stay together in one large group, Eddie shouting directions all the way.

~*~*~*~

Richie knew he’d gotten in a couple of good shots from the way that one of the douches currently railing on him had staggered back, hands clutching his nose.

“Fuck! The little fucker got my nose.” It would have sounded comical, the way that his words were slurring together, but Richie’s own face wasn’t doing much better. He’d taken a hit to the eye and another to his lip. He could taste coppery blood on his tongue and his vision was swimming, whether it was from sweat, tears or the blows he’d taken that had knocked him back against the lockers hard, Richie really didn’t know.

New sounds filtered into Richie’s consciousness, different than his own pained grunts and the dull cracks of hands against his shoulders and torso.

All at once it seemed the assault was over. Richie watched as the rest of The Losers Club tore around the corner looking like he must have when it had been Eddie in the same position, back against the lockers, looking worse for wear.

The sheer number of them, plus the fact that Mike, strong-shouldered and easily stronger than most people, was leading the charge, thunderous rage evident in his expression.

The bullies cleared out quick, only hesitating for a moment before it became clear that they were definitely outnumbered.

Ben and Mike followed after them, only until the end of the hall to make sure that they wouldn’t double back when all their backs were turned.

Eddie was the first one to reach Richie who’d slid down the lockers, legs stretched out in front of him, arms limp in his lap, breathing labored and teeth likely covered in pink saliva mixed blood. The little hypochondriac didn’t fucking care as he shuffled up close to Richie on his knees.

Richie’s bottle cap glasses had been knocked off at some point during the brawl, they were now tucked safely in Bev’s hands, thankfully not cracked.

“Richie - Rich… Richie…” Eddie was out of breath, shoulders shaking, kneeling next to his best friend, hands fluttering around him like he didn’t know what he was supposed to address first. His mind was a complete mess, he wondered to himself if Richie had felt this sick to his stomach when he’d seen him held up against the wall, or when his arm was snapped in two and a demon clown had been slowly approaching until Bev had skewered it right in its ugly face.

Richie gave a weak attempt at a laugh.

“You should see the other guy.” Eddie wasn’t even able to laugh even though he wanted to begrudgingly do just that.

Eddie didn’t even register that he was still heaving for breath, hands shaking as he gripped Richie’s chin in his hand, moving his head to and fro in order to see the complete damage.

The rest of the Losers stood back, watching everything play out.

Standing guard for their friends.

Eddie didn’t notice that one of Richie’s hands had gone to his hip, blindly searching for his fanny pack. He only looked down when he heard the zipper over his labored wheezing. He was confused but unable to do more than watch as Richie pulled out his aspirator and with a trembling arm lifted it up to Eddie’s mouth.

Richie waited until the shorter boys lips were cupped around the mouthpiece to press down on the small aerosol can.

Richie didn’t drop his arm until he was sure that Eddie had a proper lung full and he wasn’t shaking as badly. The inhaler dropped from his slack fingers and in its place was Eddie’s hand, fingers laced together with his own, a connection that anchored them to each other and let some kind of comfortable normalcy return to their emotion wrecked brains.

There seemed to be an ease that fell around everyone. Yeah, Richie was beaten to hell and back but ultimately he was okay. And more importantly to him, so was Eddie.