we could steal time//just for one day

[the_trashmouth]

It's been a weird month.

Richie never thought he'd be glad to go back to school, but after ending up in Derry and getting the crap kicked out of him, then getting kicked out of the arcade over and over again, he's been glad for the distraction. For trying to get back to normal.

Only, everything's not really back to normal yet.

Things are okay with Regan at least, even if they still feel weird with Eddie. And with Jamie too. So he's been spending more time with her than with them. Homework at her house instead of at the Home, trying to find stuff for them to do on the weekends. And it's easier now, after someone donated a bike to the Home, and he's pretty much the only kid his age without one, so he gets it.

So now he can leave easily when he needs to, whether it's to hang out with Regan or riding with Stan or going to Bev's.

It's not normal, but he's managing. Because even though he shouted at Bowers, basically admitted what Bowers had accused him of in front of everybody, he knows that no one in Darrow can know about it. Because Eddie's happy-- he's going to fucking therapy for Christsake-- and Jamie's happy, and they're both his friends. Everything feels so fucked up now, but Richie knows this is probably for the best. Even if he misses giving his best friend shit as much as he's used to.

Not that he's ever going to completely give that up, even with things like they are.

He's trying not to think about that today, though. Because it's Valentine's Day, and he's headed to Regan's now that school's out. He had to stop by the Home to grab a little stuffed bear that he bought for her-- which is really fucking cheesy, but he thinks she might like it.

Only when he steps out of the Home and puts up the kickstand on his bike to ride off, he looks over and sees something familiar just near the building, and can't help but chuckle, because what the fuck.

"Fuckin' weird," Richie murmurs to himself, amused. Because he'd know that bit of railing anywhere. Anyone who's ever been to Derry knows the Kissing Bridge, and even though it's not the whole thing, it's hard to mistake it. And if anything has to turn up from home, at least it's something better than that fucking statue that's in the park now. Or the fliers with his face on them.

Richie's already walked over, and is kneeling to look at the initials carved there-- he's wondering if he'll remember any names from back home-- when he remembers. One hot day that summer, when things weren't so bad, one of the few days they weren't all together, he'd gone to that bridge. There were so many things he couldn't say, a secret threatening to burst out of him, so he'd taken a pocket knife there and carved two initials into the wood there, the sun beating down on his neck.

R+E

Two letters that summed up every time his face had flushed, his stomach had flipped when he saw his best friend. Two letters that summed up everything he couldn't say in Derry, and everything he definitely can't say now in Darrow.

They're still there. Right outside of the Home where anyone can see. In the moment, Richie doesn't even think about the fact that there could be about a million people who are R or E. That no one is going to even think he might have carved his initials there.

"Shit!"

Richie drops his bike, and it clatters onto the ground as Richie goes to look for a rock, something with a sharp edge so he can scratch it out before someone sees. He finds one, but the rock is only just touching the railing when he hears someone approach and turns, his eyes wide.


[Dated to 2/14]

Comments

[eddie_spaghetti]

After that stupid statue, Eddie thought, for one stupid, optimistic moment, that things might be okay. But they weren't. Somehow, they were worse, the tension bleeding into obvious avoidance, with Richie ducking out at every chance to get away from him.

Maybe it was just that he busy, Eddie tried to tell himself. The semester just started, and high school was way harder than middle school. Plus, Richie had a girlfriend, and girlfriends took time. It wasn't like Eddie wasn't busy a lot, running off with Jamie, even more now that Jamie had a car.

But all of those were excuses for something else. Something they weren't talking about. Everything felt wrecked, and over the last month, he'd cycled from confusion to fury to a kind of desperate, anxious sadness he didn't know what to do with.

When he saw Richie's bike, he almost turned and walked away, teeth gritted stubbornly, but that's when he saw it.

"Holy shit, is that the Kissing Bridge?"

It was one of those things he barely remembered until it was right there, in front of him, but with it came a rush of fragmented memories. The sound of his bike wheels clattering across the bridge. The smell of the woods in summer. Running like fucking crazy from Bowers and his goons.

He crossed the grass, only noticing then that Richie had a rock in his hand. "Are you seriously going to carve something into that old thing? You're going to get tetanus," he said, the words seeming to fall from his mouth before he had a chance to think about them.

[the_trashmouth]

Richie turns quickly, eyes somehow even wider beneath his glasses and stands, dropping the rock in his hands in one swift motion.

"No," Richie lies, hoping that if he just doesn't draw attention to it, that Eddie'll never notice what he was trying to hide. Because he doesn't know how he's going to explain it if Eddie sees. Eddie can't see.

"This thing was just out here, and I was looking at it. Fuckin' weird, right? And you can't get tetanus from a rock."

[eddie_spaghetti]

"Not from the rock, you idiot. From the rusty fucking nails sticking all out of it," Eddie countered, shouldering his way past Richie for a better look.

He'd seen it countless times, but the memory of it was so hazy, seeing it now was like some kind of weird, phantom deja vu. Like a memory that belonged to someone else.

"What is this, like, the second thing from home in the last two months? That's got to mean something, right?"

[the_trashmouth]

"It means this place fuckin' blows," Richie says, though his heart speeds up as Eddie shoulders past him, closer to the bit of railing, closer to the carving. If he just plays it off as nothing, then maybe Eddie won't keep looking closer at it.

"It's just a lame piece of the rail."

[eddie_spaghetti]

"Yeah, but it's from Derry," Eddie said, because that should've explained everything. Nothing about Derry was normal.

Most of the carvings didn't mean much. Some of them, they'd all had their theories about. Scratches layering over scratches, names and initials and scrawled, lopsided hearts. Eddie, himself, tended to stay away from it, because it was covered in old chewing gum and was dirty and gross, and because he didn't think about stuff like that.

He hadn't, at least. Because his mommy told him not to.

And now, he'd almost grown bored of it, ready to assume that Richie was right, and that it really was just a lame piece of rail. But there it was, so large that he felt kind of stupid for having missed it before.

R + E

His stomach swooped, before his brain even caught up to what he was seeing. The rock made sense, then. Because Richie hadn't been giving him a hard time all month, and everything was wrong and broken because of it, so this, maybe, could be a little glimmer of normality, right?

Everything should just click back into place, right?

"Beep, beep, Richie," Eddie said, reaching out to give his friend a shove, "That's not fucking funny."

[the_trashmouth]

"Ha, yeah you got me, Eds," Richie says, but there's a panic behind his voice even if he's trying to hide it and seem casual about it. And the truth of the matter is, if it was really a joke, if he'd really carved those initials there just to get under Eddie's skin, there's no way he would have let it go so easily. He'd still be ribbing Eddie about it, about how it was a surprise Eddie'd ruined it.

But as it actually is, Richie's just glad for the opening, and figures he'd better bolt as fast as he can. He's already starting to back away, moving with the momentum of Eddie's shove to go pick up his bike.

[eddie_spaghetti]

"What?" Eddie squawked, eyes widening even as his brain just sort of... short circuited. It was a weird feeling, just losing touch with your own thoughts. It was the same sort of out of body insanity he'd felt in Neibolt, knowing that things were happening around him but not being able to make sense of them.

Because they didn't make sense.

"Hey!" He shouted as Richie stumbled away from him, both of them gawking at each other like a couple of assholes. "Where the fuck are you going?" Eddie said, surging towards him and fumbling to grip Richie's sleeve. This, at least, was familiar. The fighting and the yelling and the anger and Richie being a real fucking jerk. That could be normal, he thought.

"You've been weird for fucking months! If you're trying to piss me off, this is a fucking shitty way to do it, Richie. What is wrong with you?"

[negative_feedback]

It's the first Valentine's Day she's ever had someone to share it with, and she knows he's planning on coming over, but she really, really doesn't want Greta or Saoirse to accidentally walk in on them kissing.

Because she plans to do that a lot.

Richie's been tense, uncomfortable, and after that creepy statue and the conversations it had spurred, she hadn't wanted to press more than he'd been willing to talk. So, sometimes she'd ask if he was okay, and if he said yes, even if she thought it was a lie, she took it at face value. He'd tell her when he's ready, she's sure.

But she can at least try to help until then. Richie really likes kissing (Regan doesn't hate it, honestly), so she decides to meet him at the Home and hide out somewhere warm and quiet so they can just be together.

She doesn't expect to see him crouched, rock in hand, in front of a wooden piece of bridge that doesn't belong there, looking like a scared woodland creature. She hesitates, then steps closer.

"Rich?" she asks, trying not to be nervous. He looks like he's going to bolt.

[the_trashmouth]

Richie doesn't hear Regan walk up. He's too focused on trying to scratch out his and Eddie's initials as fast as he can, even if there are only a few people in Darrow who might even have any idea what they stand for.

But if Eddie or Stan or Bev see, Richie is just sure they'll know. They can't.

As it is, he's only started on the R when he notices her there, and startles, standing up straight, caught in the act. He drops the rock into his pocket.

"Regan! Hi," he says and signs at the same time.

Shit.

[negative_feedback]

She watches him straighten, but her eyes lift to his face, his hands, while he greets her. She gestures at the railing.

"Where did this come from?" she asks.

She thinks of the missing posters with his face on them, of the statue in the park that had started this whole weird thing going on between him and his friends, and of the terrified look in his eyes that hasn't quite gone away. She's pretty sure she knows the answer.

"Is... is it another Derry thing?" she asks, more tentatively this time.

[the_trashmouth]

Richie nods, because it's about all he can do at the moment. Mostly, he just wants to be sure Regan doesn't see what's there, what he was trying to scratch out, because she'll get the wrong idea. He carved it a long time ago now, during that summer they all became Losers, but there's still some truth to it. Still some truth to how he feels, even if he likes Regan too. Even if he knows that Eddie and Jamie are great and he'd feel like a real dicksplash telling either of them about this.

"Like the statue," he signs, glad he learned the sign for that back when Paul fucking Bunyan showed up to scare the shit out of him. He still can't really cut through the park like he used to without freaking out.

[negative_feedback]

She moves closer, a frown on her face. "Are you okay?" she asks, because that's the most important question. She can worry about the rest after, if he needs help or something, but for right now, the most important thing is if he's okay.

[the_trashmouth]

He nods again, even if it's only partially true. This shitty piece of railing isn't going to come to life and try to kill him, but the letters carved there have his stomach tied in knots, and he can only think about how much they'LL change everything if Regan sees them.


"It's just weird," he signs.

[finally_ahead]

Stan's beginning to think this place might be worse than Derry.

Derry was going to kill him one way or another, but he had his friends. His friends who were all fucking weirdos like him, but they were all fucking weirdos together. He thinks he might be idealizing the situation, or something, but he thinks they're going to be in trouble the longer they're apart.

Something's wrong with Eddie and Richie, and it makes Stan's nerves jangle painfully, which is even worse because they have Jamie and Regan, and Beverly's got a family, and Stan has--

(nothing)

Stan cleans the room top to bottom almost every day, and fusses over his bike, and watches the birds. He does his homework and sometimes he goes to stare at the local synagogue like it might swallow him. Maybe that would be better.

He's on his way to his usual spot in the park, because he's not about to spend this day in a sea of hormones, stress, and mild to moderate desperation. Fuck it. This place wants to make him remember that he's the odd man out? He'll be a weird bird-watching hermit.

Only it doesn't work out that way. Because there's Richie, looking panicked, and Stan already knows he's going to help him. He just doesn't know how.

"Richie?"

[the_trashmouth]

Richie doesn't hear Stan walk up behind him, he's so focused on trying to scratch out the evidence before anyone sees. Back in Derry, it would have been easy to wave it off. There's gotta be some other people in town with those initials. Rosie and Edwin, Robert and Edna, or something. Hell, Richie might even have drawn attention to it himself if they all ever made their way to the bridge. Made a joke of it just to see how red Eddie got.

This is different.

"Stan! Hi!" Richie says, and he drops the rock suddenly, his eyes somehow even wider than normal. His heart is racing, just a little, and he can hear it pounding in his chest.

[finally_ahead]

Why does Stan feel like he's going to be caught between irritated and empathizing for a very long time? He's so miserable all of the time, and it doesn't seem to matter in whatever weird fucking thing is happening with Richie. With Eddie and Richie.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and he's almost afraid to know what all of this is. He looks past him, and then his eyes widen.

"Richie, is that what I think it is?"

[the_trashmouth]

"Yeah, it's from home. Fuckin' weird," Richie says, though his heart is still racing and he hopes Stan doesn't look behind him and see the initials carved there. He's trying to look like he's not freaking out, but Richie has a feeling he's doing a pretty shitty job at it.

[finally_ahead]

For now, Stan trusts the irritation. It's carried him through before, and by god, he will eyeroll through this if it's the only way to get even a semblance of normality back.

"Yeah, that's fucking weird that it's the second time it's happened since I've been here, and then also you had some weird thing that made you be back in Derry somehow." Stan pushes past him to examine the section of bridge.

"I don't know if you forgot, Trashmouth, but-- but I'm your friend," Stan says, a little more quaver in his voice than he'd like. "You saw that thing eat my face, you were the only person there when I really needed someone, and I know I'm not as important to you as Eddie and whatever this weird fight--"

He stops, leaning over to really examine something.

[the_trashmouth]

Stan starts to try and get a closer look at the railing, and Richie's eyes go wide. Before he can think about how fucking insane it looks, he moves to put himself between his friend and the railing, and the incriminating carving that seems so much more noticable than any of the others there somehow.

"Yeah, well, just in case you forgot, this place sucks, Stanley," he says, hoping to draw his attention away, "And of course you're my friend."

Maybe Stan doesn't think he's as important as Eddie, but he is to Richie. Maybe it's in a different way, but every one of the Losers is important as far as he's concerned.

[runtowardsomething]

Valentine's Day is a stupid fucking holiday.

Beverly has always thought so, or at least she has for as long as she can remember, bearing in mind that her memory is an unreliable thing these days. It's an occasion that feels sort of like salt in a wound, though, nice for people who are in relationships but, for her, just a reminder that no one could ever feel like that about her. It's somehow worse this year, with two of her best friends both dating someone. She likes Jamie and she likes Regan, but there are still times it makes her feel lonely. Between that, and as strangely fraught as things have seemed lately, and the fact that — however happy she might be about where she is — she lives away from the others, never mind all the other shit persistently rattling around in her head, this is definitely one of those times.

She's mostly trying not to think about it, and debating if she should go to that party tonight or if it would just make things worse, when she sees Richie in front of the Home. Instinctively, she starts heading over to him even before she realizes what he's standing in front of. She hasn't thought about the Kissing Bridge in fucking ages; she hadn't even remembered that it existed until just now, seeing what's unmistakably part of it.

"Whoa, what's that doing here?" she asks, and then Richie turns, and she gets a look at the startled expression on his face. "Richie? Are you okay?"

[the_trashmouth]

Richie's starting in on the carving, but the rock he's found has just barely touched the wood when he hears Bev's voice. He startles, standing up straight and dropping the rock.

"It just showed up," he says, ignoring her second question, even though he's sure he looks like he just saw a ghost. Or Eddie's mom naked or something just as horrifying. "It's just part of the railing. Fuckin' weird."

[runtowardsomething]

With what Richie actually says, it should be something casual. It's just part of the stupid Kissing Bridge, a weird thing to see here but inconsequential. He looks fucking spooked, though, like that day in the park with the Paul Bunyan statue if not worse. Beverly can't begin to guess why that might be the case, but she's pretty sure the answer to her question is that, no, he's not okay. He doesn't really seem to be.

The whole scenario in front of her leaves her a little uneasy, though that might be her default state lately. "Yeah, very," she says, something dubious in her voice that suggests the railing just showing up isn't the weirdest thing here. "Were you carving something?"

[the_trashmouth]

"No," Richie says, maybe a little too quickly to be convincing. And technically he was, but really he was trying to uncarve something, if that's even a thing.

"Just.... just thinking about how it's dumb that the rest of the bridge didn't show up too. Doesn't make any sense."

He doesn't look back at the carving, even though his heart is pounding and he's hoping that Bev doesn't look past him and see it.

[runtowardsomething]

"Right," Beverly says, the word drawn out and slow, clearly skeptical. She thinks she knows Richie well enough to be able to tell when he's acting weird, and this definitely counts as weird. Seeing him all freaked out by that statue was one thing. With what he told her about it, it makes sense that its arrival in Darrow would have him upset. This is nothing, though, just a stupid piece of wood with initials carved on it. Him being crouched in front of it with a rock doesn't really seem like he was thinking about it being dumb that only one piece of it is here, and neither does the speed of his answer, the nervousness in his demeanor.

Just a bit softer, she adds, "Come on, Rich, you look like you've seen a fucking ghost or something."

[the_trashmouth]

"It's fine, okay?" Richie says, no more convincing than before. Because nothing about any of this shit is fine. Not the fucking statue, not ending up back in Derry, not all the crap with Eddie, and not this rail showing up out of fucking nowhere.

"Look, just... don't worry about it."