#it was buck who ran to eddies house when his own was invaded

[tommygotwrittenoff]

okay as much i love the whole "destined by the universe thing" that is just not buddie!!! everything about their relationship has been because of THEM. buck decided to insert himself in eddie and chris's lives, and eddie welcomed it and has continually affirmed that decision everyday of their lives

[diazevans]

he is your world (you just don’t know it)

It’s not that she wants Eddie to hurt, not at all. Shannon loves him, respects him, and if it were in her hands, she would give him absolutely everything in the world that could make him happy.

or

Shannon Diaz gets to live and it changes everything.

CHAPTER 3 : FIRST SIGNS.

READ ON AO3 - OTHER CHAPTERS: 1, 2

Shannon should have seen the signs and honestly, it’s going to take a while before she doesn’t feel guilty for being in the dark.

She is taking more hours at work on the days she doesn’t have Christopher and, slowly but surely, she starts hanging out with her co-workers more. The whole Buck thing has shown her that you need friends to help you in the hard times, to support you.

She feels lucky that somehow, she can consider Buck himself one of those.

That’s why it makes her sad to know that even when he is back at the station, not all is forgotten, or of course, forgiven.  Bobby seems to be keen on teaching him some patience and well, she has to agree with him. What Buck did was a desperate move and maybe it was time to learn that family and friends couldn’t be hurt like that. She prided herself on the fact that every time she told him as much, he had at least understood a bit.

With the days passing, even when their late phone calls are more spaced now that Christopher is handling sleeping better, she gets to know that everyone at the station is warming up to him again, except for Bobby and Eddie.

It’s strange, but not entirely hard to believe. Now that she thinks about it, she hasn’t seen Eddie for more than five minutes for weeks now. For what she knows, they aren’t avoiding each other, so it’s a little weird, but she thought it could be something that happened when they were actually in the process of the divorce.

She worries a little bit more when Christopher mentions that sometimes, his dad looks like he hasn’t sleep at all. With a kiss on his forehead, Shannon leaves her son to sleep and comes back to Eddie’s living room, thanking Carla and assuring her that she could watch him until Eddie got back, to have the night free.

It’s odd when it’s almost midnight when Eddie finally shows himself, covered from head to toe like it was freezing outside.

“Where were you?” It’s almost comical how big his eyes are when he sees her and how there are a few seconds before he can compose himself.

“I went out.” It’s a lie, so obvious, but Shannon doesn’t want to push. Can’t push it. Yet, she does.

“Who? Buck tells me you are still not talking to him.”

“Didn’t know you two were close now.” There is so much bitterness in his tone that it throws her off for a second, before she recognizes the barely concealed jealousy coming from Eddie. It’s a bit unsettling, because she thought they were past the time where he thought of her in a romantic way. Unless…

Oh.

She shakes her head casually, standing from the couch. “Are you jealous because I speak with him or because he speaks with me?” Her eyes looked up at him, trying to look as innocent as she can and it’s almost delighted when she sees him flinch. Her ex-husband is so easy to read when he is like this, all worked up. It makes her want to tease him some more, but her mother instinct tells her that maybe, it’s time for a lesson. Maybe it’s time to stop ignoring what is going on.  

“He tells me things because it seems that his best friend is set on ignoring him for the rest of forever.”

Not for the first time, she feels like she is taking sides in a situation that doesn’t concern her, and by the look in Eddie’s face, his mind must be going down the same line. Still, she is not going to allow Eddie to lose the other man, not when it could be the best thing that ever happened to him. She feels responsible for his happiness, somehow, since she was the one who broke his heart first.

“You don’t know…”

“I know that you are going to lose him if you keep this up.” Like you lost me, she almost says, and it scares her how easy that thought appears in her mind. “I know that one day, he is gonna get tired of trying to reach out and getting nothing from you, Eddie. Or worse, that he feels so bad about this whole thing that he actually starts to think he deserves the treatment you are giving him.”

And he doesn’t, he really doesn’t.

“He didn’t leave.” Suddenly, her chest feels heavy, too full of her own regret. “He was trying to get back.” She should had done the same, even when it was hard, no matter what. Eddie and Christopher waited for her and she never found her way back home, but Buck? He gave everything for just a chance to get back to everyone. How Eddie couldn’t see it was beyond her.

Had she really hurt him so much that he couldn’t see love when it was standing right in front of him?

Suddenly, she remembers she is supposed to be mad at him for being late, not because everything else. But Now Eddie’s eyes are dark, painfully sad, and she can’t find it in herself to keep throwing things at him. The only thing she wants is to hold him so hard that maybe, some sense will get to him.

So, she does.

Slowly, Shannon moves closer to him, giving him enough time to move away. He doesn’t and after a moment, her arms move around his neck and she holds him close to her body, squeezing him as much as she possibly can. “It’s okay.” Eddie, sweet and kind Eddie, holds her by the waist and they stay like that, until his body shakes just a bit. This dance is a familiar one for them, another ritual, and she lets him find comfort in her presence for as long as he wants. He is not alone, never will be again. “You will figure out. You always do.”

She leaves after that, because it’s too much, and she has learned to put herself first sometimes. Still, she can’t help but think that she should have push harder, that something is clearly wrong with him, that it’s just not out in the open. That this could not be just about Buck.

It still takes her completely by surprise when Eddie comes to her house when it’s supposed to be his night with Christopher. Dread quickly invades her body, because he is wearing the same expression he did the second time he enlisted, when he ran away. That’s the face he makes when he thinks he has really fucked up, even when he doesn’t admit it.

“Shannon, we need to talk.”

[notsugarandspice]

Crash and Burn (Chapter 22)

such a sad chapter, I’m sorryyyyyy

Read it on AO3.

Warnings: Angst and goodbyes; Sonia

                                                August, 1995

Eddie knows it’s coming before it actually happens but it doesn’t make the arrival any less painful. The day he’s leaving for college. It’s supposed to be a happy occasion, right? Eddie’s packed all of his most precious belongings: his favorite CDs, a couple of shirts that still fit him since middle school, some trinkets that remind him of the Losers. But there’s something, and if he was honest with himself, someone, he can’t seem to stuff in any of the bags he owns, no matter how large.

Richie is sitting on the hood of Sonia’s car, smoking and looking out at the vast expanse of the street Eddie lives on, green and empty at the same time. The rest of the Losers are supposed to pull in sometime in the next hour. For some inexplicable reason, Sonia decided that it’s best that they start driving at night. That way the hardest part of the trip is going to be in daylight. Whatever you say, ma. I’m willing to put up with any bullshit, as long as it’s the last summer I see you. Thank fucking God for scholarships. Eddie couldn’t have possibly paid for his school any other way. Not with a mother like his. But those worries seem far away now. The more pressing matter is in front of him, scraped and skinny and beautiful. Eddie’s chest constricts painfully as he hops down the porch steps to step in front of his friend. Or boyfriend. Whatever they are. Or were.

Eddie places himself in the space between Richie’s legs where they’re propped up on the ledge of the car. Skinny bare knees are pointed towards the road, and Eddie finds himself comfortable in that little world between them. Richie takes the last inhale and tosses the half-smoked cigarette on the ground, exhaling the grey smoke towards the sky, away from Eddie’s face. Richie lowers his head to lock red, swollen eyes with the other, and Eddie doesn’t need to ask why. It’s mirrored in the dark circles under his own eyes, in the scratch marks on his back that Richie left when he sprinted towards the Tozier residence in the middle of the night, his chest so fucking heavy it felt like it didn’t belong on his body. They kissed so hard and messy, their faces wet with tears and skin raw from how close they were trying to get, without actually getting anywhere.

And now they stand in front of each other, no fire, just glowing embers, devoid of movement and desire to speak. Eddie does anyway. “Are you staying? You’re really staying?” He knows the answer. There’s just a very twisted part of him that still hopes Richie will hop in the back of the car, his suitcase already shipped to New York or something. Lunatic.

“Yeah. But you already know that.” Richie looks tired. His hair is greasy and overgrown, tied in some semblance of a bun on the nape of his neck. His skin looks grey and sickly as if he’s been trying to fight a cold without medicine.

Eddie’s head drops and his chin almost touches the collarbones - a childish act that somehow seems sensible at the moment. “I know.”

Richie squeezes his finger under Eddie’s chin, and the distinct scent of cigarettes invades the small boy’s senses. He can’t help but wrinkle his nose as their eyes connect again. “You gotta stop this.”

Richie raises his eyebrow and removes a finger. “What? Touching you?”

What the fuck? “No, dipshit. Smoking.”

Richie snorts sardonically. “You know I can’t promise that, Eddie.”

Eddie. “You should try. If you hope to be alive next time I see you.” Eddie knows how desperate that sounds, but he doesn’t care. There’s not enough time. Never enough.

“Hey, no offense, but death can fuck itself. Not even that would stop me from seeing you.”

Now Eddie is on the verge of hysteria, he can feel the pitch of the scream creeping up his throat. “Richie-“

“Ay, don’t, Eds. Please.” Richie basically pushes the last word out. The whole sentence before is pure pain, and Eddie can hear it, can feel it like something digging into the deepest crevices of his heart to take out everything he loves.

Richie pushes his glasses up and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes forcefully, leaving them there for several seconds. Eddie can’t hell if he wants to be left alone. There’s no time.

“Anyway, what are you gonna do once you get there?” Long arms fall to rest on naked thighs, and Eddie has to fight the temptation to drag Richie upstairs and do something he wanted to do all summer. There’s just something about the shift of Richie’s long thumb against the small black curls on top of his pale skin that has Eddie silently whining with longing.

“What do you mean? Unpack, of course. And try to kick ma out. Don’t know how long she plans on staying.”

Richie cocks an eyebrow, and Eddie’s stomach flips helplessly in a very practiced fashion. “What, she’s really gonna get a hotel or something, just to bug you?”

“You know her.” Eddie looks in the direction of his house, the red and yellow, and dark brown, all familiar but so fucking alien at the same time. He can’t wait to get out of here.

“I just can’t believe that she even speaks to you after that outburst. You think I should go inside and offer her some comfort? You know, in the shape of my-“

Eddie clasps a hand to Richie’s mouth but can’t help the small laugh that escapes him. “Don’t even finish that sentence. I can’t stand you sometimes.”

Richie lowers his head, and the glasses fall back on his nose, his expression all yeah, right. Eddie is getting slowly annoyed by his smugness. Richie’s voice is muffled against Eddie’s newly wet palm. “Sure, sure, Eddie-bear.”

“Ugh, Richie, no!” Eddie pushes off his friend and circles around the car, small stones flying off where his blue sneakers inadvertently kick them. Moving is the only way he can ensure he doesn’t need to face the weight of this situation, or this day, or the rest of their lives, really.

Richie circles from the other side, and they end up leaning their backs on the slanted trunk. Eddie can feel Richie’s eyes on him and the corner of his mouth twitches. Thankfully, it’s the distant corner.

“Eds, are you gonna write to me?” Eddie would expect that question to cause him pain or even disappointment. Like, who is he to think I wouldn’t write to him? Instead, he just feels empty. As if he’s been gone every year like this and saw Richie during summer. As if they haven’t known each other since kindergarten.

“You’re shittin’ me, right? Please tell me that’s not a serious fucking question.” Eddie is still staring ahead, mostly because Richie’s head is framed by the afternoon sun that would inevitably hurt his irises. Your precious eyes, Eddie-bear.

“Damn, you got a mouth on you, babycakes.”

Eddie groans loudly, entirely aware that no amount of serious conversation would ever make Richie mature. Maybe it’s not a bad thing. Maybe things are meant to stay the same, even if people change. “You know I hate these nicknames. Do you hate my name or what?”

Richie does the whole exaggerated double back movement, and his eyes bug out comically behind thick lenses that painfully remind Eddie of the time they played in the water, and the number of times he had to find them on the bottom of whatever place they explored that day. You can’t really drown, they all float there, and you’ll float t-

“Seriously? Your name is the only one I use to scream out in pure ecstasy. If you don’t count your mom’s name or the last name which also works, but I really don’t-“

“Rich, cut it.” Eddie finally realized with a feeling so heavy it almost brought him down to his knees that Richie has been acting a lot more like the middle school version of himself lately. Eddie doesn’t know if it’s his way of leaving a mark on the small boy’s memory or what, but it was definitely making him reminiscent of all the time they spent together. And not just the two of them: all the Losers used to be so much closer. Before the heavy burden of education, social acceptance and adult responsibilities swept them up and thrashed them violently in a hurricane that led straight to hell. College. Which should be a lot more exciting than it currently is.

Eddie doesn’t mean to be ungrateful. He knows how lucky he is to live in New York with minimum loans and plenty of scholarships to last him to grad school. But the feeling of familiarity can’t be replaced. It can’t be ignored no matter how much he wanted. That’s the moment Eddie decides to keep his distance from people who aren’t Losers. He doesn’t think he can ever trust anyone like that again.

“What’s on your mind, sugar?” speaks Richie with a southern drawl that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and tingle at the same time. It’s always such a whirlwind of emotion to be around Richie. It’s been like that from the start when Eddie threw a little car in the buck-toothed boy’s face and made him cry loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Eddie has never been more scared in his life. In his defense, Richie wouldn’t stop touching him, and Eddie hates unnecessary physical contact. And when he had enough of it, he dealt with it in short spurts of uncontrollable anger, hence the little dent between his best friend’s eyebrows. Eddie finally looks at him and lowers the glasses with his index finger, his lip trapped under the top row of teeth.

Richie gets unbelievably quiet and still, but Eddie knows it’s not for long - he’s going to start tapping his foot or wrecking his cuticles, or clashing his teeth - anything to keep his body occupied while his mind ran enthusiastically. “Do you remember getting this?”

Brown irises travel up as if they’re somehow responsible for capturing the barely visible dent that’s obviously inaccessible to Richie’s eyes. Eddie snorts at the effort and points the spot on his own face. “Does a blue toy truck ring any bells?”

“Oh, yeaaaaah. You totally had a crush on me from day one, Spaghetti.”

Eddie takes a step back and crosses the arms under his chest. “Did not!”

“Dude, that’s the whole pigtails agenda. You were always mean to me because I gave you a chub. Just admit it.”

“Richie, that’s gross. And the whole pigtails agenda is bullshit, and you know that. You should’ve been mean to me in return. I was such a shithead.”

Richie’s eyes get gooey soft, and Eddie knows where this is going before it actually happens. “You were always the cutest shithead. I never really took your threats seriously because your cheeks would blush this pretty pink color and I just couldn’t take my eyes off them.”

Eddie’s heart is thrashing against his rib cage, ready to leap out and hop all the way to Canada. Richie steps away from the car and extends his arms, bony hands landing on Eddie’s waist. Eddie immediately grabs onto the pointed elbows, and he’s almost annoyed by how practiced that movement is. “Don’t charm me.”

“What? I’m not doing anything, my love.” Richie winks and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. “Aaaaand there’s that blush.”

Eddie pushes his lips to the corner of his mouth, trying to force a smile to disappear along with the redness of his cheeks. “It’s kind of sad.”

Richie’s confuzzled expressions will never cease to amaze and entertain Eddie. “What?”

Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes even though he knows that the sentence had disappointing implications. It’s not his fault Richie can’t read his mind by now. “It’s kind of sad that you never really had to try so hard. You flirt as if your life depends on it but…”

“But what?” asks Richie, his voice low and heart-throbbingly soft.

...but I fell for you when you were playing a goddamn video game, and your hair was greasy, and there were chips all over your stupid lap. You were sitting in your goddamn underwear because you spilled some beer you sneaked out of your house and your glasses were cracked everywhere. You probably haven’t showered for days and I didn’t even want to think of the last time you brushed your teeth, but I couldn’t stop looking at you. At the furrow of your perfect brows that sat exactly behind the top of the thick frame. The way your eyes danced around the screen, big and excited. The way your tongue jumped out of your mouth as if it had an extra controller that could help you pass the level you’ve been stuck on. I still remember how it knocked the wind out of me to think of you that way. To want to exist in the space between your lips and touch the small curl that rested on the nape of your neck. I still remember you throwing the controller and burying your face in my lap, dramatically crying about the prejudiced fate of the universe and I never felt more confused in my life. I let myself stroke your hair and the look you gave me almost made my chest explode. I don’t know if you could tell, but I gave my heart away that day. It was all yours. Forever.

Eddie moves closer and connects the lips, soft and slow.

—

For the second time that day Eddie wants to sit down on the ground and cry. Three-year-old style. Everyone’s embrace seems to leave a mark on his back, and when they disconnect, Eddie feels like their hands take away a part of him he will never recover. Richie stands at a distance, puffing on a cigarette and Eddie is getting legitimately concerned over how much the other smokes a day. He might also be a little pissed that Richie didn’t throw a fit and threw him over that bony shoulder, refusing to let go. But maybe that’s the sign of how mature he actually is.

“-and I promise to visit soon.” Eddie should probably feel guilty for ogling his friend from above Bev’s shoulder, but he can’t part with the image of contemplative Richie just yet. Just a little more. Please, I just…I want this to stretch forever and ever and ever.

“Right. Hopefully, I’ll be here for the holidays.” A lie. And they know it’s a lie. Bev nods in understanding, looking over to Sonia’s voluptuous form on the porch, standing by the door like a guard dog, making sure that her precious Eddie-bear doesn’t get carried off by his queer friends and their dirty hands.

Ben is next, and nobody misses the gentle way he puts his hand on Bev’s shoulder as she walks away and they blush in unison, the unspoken love almost painfully adorable. Eddie feels a pang of jealousy, and he instantly feels ashamed. It’s just unfair that people who can be together don’t even take advantage of it. It’s almost like the universe has two perfect middle fingers in front of him at all times.

“Hey, shortie.” Ben hugs him right under the armpits and Eddie lifts off the ground. Not too far up because Ben isn’t actually that tall, but Eddie feels weightless under the firmness of Haystack’s shoulders. God, even Richie’s nicknames rubbed off on me.

“Don’t,” Eddie grunts out the words when his throat feels a little blocked off from the sudden ascent, “call me shortie. It’s not my fault I haven’t gained length since I met all of you.” He’s back on the ground, and he catches the wide grin on Richie’s face before his eyes find the green of Ben’s again.

“I didn’t mean to offend, you know that. Just going to miss you.” Ben has always been like that. A little humorous and very very honest. Painfully so. Eddie hugs him tighter than he thought he was capable of and it’s a different kind of comfort because Ben is a big football guy, and it’s certainly a pleasant change after trashmouth ribs that poked into the small boy’s stomach when they embraced some minutes ago. Before the rest of the gang got here.

Ben leans in to whisper something quickly, and the words will echo through Eddie’s mind in the weeks to come. “He’s going through a lot. Don’t forget about him.”

He’s going through a lot? With what? Why does everyone seem to know things I don’t? Is it their way of ensuring I don’t end up staying here? Eddie’s body goes limp, and his arms fall. He gives Ben a strained smile and a nod. He doesn’t really know what else to say.

Bill is next and he seems to carry heavy melancholy around him wherever he goes, the emerald in his eyes dull as if someone put out the light. It started with Georgie but only got worse over the years. It seems like Mr. Denbrough’s death finally did it to him. Eddie noticed that Stan has been falling into a similar headspace as well. Maybe that’s why the two of them spent so much time together.

Bill places both hands on Eddie’s shoulder, towering over him with silent authority, one that Kaspbrak quietly accepted over the years but also failed to understand the older he got. It was unspoken that Bill was the leader of the group, but it has been more clear lately that Bill lacks the stability that Mike has, for example. Eddie’s heart constricts at the realization that he hasn’t been that close to Bill in the past year and it wasn’t just Richie’s fault that the group hasn’t been spending too much time together. Age just got the best of them, same as the distance that hung like a looming shadow over their lucky seven, quietly waiting to make them all part and suffer.

“I’m guh-guh-gonna miss you, Eh-Eddie,” says Bill with confidence and that specific Denbrough sadness that was reflected in his mom anytime Eddie saw her.

“I’ll miss you too, Billy.” Eddie instantly goes for the hug, slightly embarrassed by the nickname. He hasn’t called him this way since that summer, as if the last bits of innocence has been stripped away from him. From all of them. And it just seemed redundant to try to force it back.

Bill kisses the top of his head and squeezes it tight to his chest. Eddie recognizes the undeniable scent of pine and glue that’s always been engraved in his friend’s clothing. He knows he’ll quickly forget it, but it will come back to him next time they see each other. Whenever that’s going to happen.

Bill steps back and his head turns to Stan who’s standing right next to them, wringing his hands in agitation. Eddie can see some tears in his friend’s eyes, and he leaps forward, holding Stanley tight as if he has the power to put him back together. Stan sobs into his shoulder and he has to hunch lower almost as much as Richie usually does, and Eddie feels tears running down his own cheeks, hot and sticky. They sob for several seconds, but the ugly sounds soon turn into laughter: embarrassed and playful laughter that seems a little out of place, all things considered. But they lean their foreheads against each other and Eddie tries not to think how their sweat is now combined, and how ticklish Stanley’s golden curls are on the side of the small boy’s face.

“You take care of yourself, okay, Eddie?”

Eddie ruffles Stan’s hair and the other irritatedly swats the small hand away, smiling. “You too, Stan. Really.” Stan’s face contorts in understanding, and he steps back to let sprinting Mike swoop Eddie off his feet.

He just got here from the farm, probably drove a bike all the way from his farm judging by the wetness of his shoulders, the dampness of his wife beater that’s pressing into Eddie’s thighs. He can’t help but giggle, an overwhelming amount of affection overcoming him and he feels so fucking happy to have known these people. Something in him breaks a little when they all run up and grab different parts of him, and suddenly he’s parallel to the ground, held by all his friends. Eddie feels weightless and powerful. For the first time since he applied to a school out of state, he feels like he can take over the world. And he will. Small-scale but it’s going to happen nonetheless.

“Time to go, Eddie!” screams Sonia and all the laughter dies down to quiet murmurs of irritation.

Eddie’s body slides against Richie’s, and they embrace awkwardly, half-hugging as the small boy takes control over his slightly numb limbs. Everyone step away in silent understanding, giving the two of them some space to say goodbye. Eddie isn’t even remotely ready to see thick tears sliding down Richie’s pale cheeks, dark eyes blurry behind foggy lenses.

“Richie, don’t cry, please,” says Eddie wiping teardrops off with his thumbs, cradling the tall boy’s jaw, his voice so strained that he thinks he might lose it by the time they reach New York.

“I- I don’t know how…how to do this without you.” Richie’s voice is so raw and thin, it sends needles into the middle of Eddie’s chest. He’d prefer to be stabbed to this interaction.

“Rich, you’re so strong. And I’m always here for you, whatever you need, yeah?” Eddie tilts the other’s face to face him and smiles reassuringly. He doesn't understand why he’s not crying. Almost angry at it. He wants to stomp his foot and scream FEEL, DAMN IT!

“Eds, I-“

“I know.” Eddie turns his head to the side and listens to Richie’s rapid heartbeat, trying to memorize its steady rhythm, one he hopes he’s going to fall asleep to for ages. Richie’s fingers are in his hair, petting and brushing it. Eddie wants the scent of cigarettes to stay on his clothes forever, just so he can remember Richie anytime, anywhere. They stand pressed together until Eddie disconnects, unwilling to let his mother be the reason he can’t hold Richie anymore. He looks into dark brown eyes one last time wishing he had an excuse to just drown in them on this dirty sidewalk, surrounded by six people he loves.

Eddie reluctantly steps away, his arms cold in the absence of Richie’s overheated body, his head empty and heavy. There’s no panic and no pain. He feels so detached from everything, so different already and it terrifies him that the next time they all see each other, they’ll be different people. Eddie stops by his front door, his mom already inside grabbing the last of their provisions and he spares a look at the six young people on the driveway, all unique and perfect, their skin tinted orange in the sunset light. His family. Eddie gives them a small wave, a small smile, and steps back into the house, knowing that the next time he opens it, they’ll be gone as if they’ve never been there at all.

Three hours into the drive he cries in his sleep, dreaming of black curls, smiles that stretch wide, and pretty freckles framing a sharp face.

Perma Tag: @happytozier @studpuffin @j0ys @its-stranger-than-you-think @tinyarmedtrex @d-nbroughs @aizeninlefox (I removed some people who’ve been inactive because I’m not about forcing my work on anyone. Let me know if you want to be added/removed <3)