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derpyanimatesstuff · 2 years ago

Text

There’s Something Familiar About This

Word Count: 32270 Ao3

Castiel worked hard to get where he was in life. Sure, maybe a little novelty magic shop wasn’t exactly becoming of a witch, but then again he wasn’t in it for the power. It also helped that Gabriel supported him - granted, it was because he thought the shop was hilarious, but the support made him smile.

Coming from a long line of witches, Cas had worked day and night to hone his craft. He had never been good at the large flashy spells that his siblings seemed to favor. Instead he focused his efforts on lesser nature magic and charms. They were all little things, something to make roses bloom just a little longer, or a charm to keep large animals away from the town. They were all small, but effective. This had earned him a bit of a reputation that brought the skeptics in and kept them coming back.

Thankfully as the youngest he was under no pressure to pursue a coven and for the most part he was able to do as he pleased. Because of that his mother was willing to give him the money to move out and start up his shop, and within a few years he was able to return the money she gave him.

All of his older siblings were powerful in their own right, yet there was a greed that his older brother Michael had . He was always looking for ways to increase his already immense amount of power, though nothing short of a familiar or their family grimoire would be strong enough to achieve what he wanted. The family grimoire was actually part of why Michael was always at the back of his mind. God knows why, but after the death of their mother, she had left Cas the grimoire; giving an unprecedented boost to his protection charms and the nature magic he wielded. Of course Michael had decided that he would much rather have it and was always trying to find ways to get him to hand it over, and unfortunately it seemed like today would be another one of his attempts.

Cas groaned when he felt a familiar magic poking and prodding the wards of his home, looking for weak spots. He was glad it was near closing time and Charlie had already left for the day; last time Michael decided to show up he’d left Charlie by herself to deal with the weekend tourist crowd. Quickly as he could he closed up the shop, flipping the sign as he locked the door. He wanted to deal with Michael as soon as possible; he would need to spend the night checking and patching up the warding, and the sooner he got started the better.

However the moment he turned around he just about ran into a person who was most possibly the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. Sandy hair, freckles and vibrant green eyes consumed his vision. More than anything he wanted to stick around and try to get to know this man, but the exploration of his wards turned to a light tugging.

The man rubbed the back of his neck looking embarrassed. “Oh hey, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be in your way.” He seemed to steel himself. “So, here’s the deal-”

“Sorry we’re closed, and I need to be going.” He felt bad for interrupting but he simply didn’t have time to stand around.

The man looked crestfallen. “If you could just give me a few minutes to-”

Cas looked for an escape but the man was in his path. “I really do have to go. It’s a matter of utmost importance.”

“Yeah, I bet.” The man now looked as though someone had just told him his dog died.

For a moment he was debating seeing what the man wanted, but the tugging on the wards turned to chipping. He held eye contact with the man until it seemed he finally understood Cas was waiting for him to move out of his way.

The man moved and Castiel made a break for his car. He could have sworn he heard the man call for him but he was already slamming his door and peeling out of the parking lot.

~*~

He could see Michael smiling and waving from the sidewalk as he pulled into the driveway.

“Ah, Castiel, I was wondering how long it would take you to get here this time.”

“Michael, how many times must we go through this?”

“I was simply making sure your warding was good enough to protect our dear family grimoire,” he said feigning innocence.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Any reason you could not just ask me if the warding was sufficient?”

“I had to make sure for myself that the grimoire was safe. It would be a shame if someone were to take it from you. After all, who knows what a witch stronger than you could do with it.”

“Indeed,” Castiel said flatly. “Was there anything else you were here for?” The sooner his headache of a brother moved on the sooner he would be able to check the damage to his warding.

“No, I was just passing through and figured I’d stop by.”

“Right. In that case?”

“In that case I shall be going now that I’ve stopped by.” He had always kept his little games short but to the point.

“And I suppose I won’t see you until our next family function?”

Michael gave him a smirk. “Don’t count on it little brother. Someone needs to check in on you living out here all by yourself, you never know who might be out to get you.”

“Bite me.”

Cas frowned as he watched Michael’s car make its way down the short gravel path to his house before turning out of sight.

Slowly he let out a sigh and turned to his home, a cozy two story on the outskirts of town. Most of the wards appeared to be intact, though a few were quite damaged. He took note that those had been the ones his brother had a hard time scratching at during his previous visit. He was clearly planning to take down all the wards at once. This was starting to look bad, it might be time to get Gabriel’s help.

He pulled out the flip phone that Charlie had recently forced him to get. She said ‘Even though you’re a witch it won’t kill you to use a bit of technology, just look at me!’ then she proceeded to force him to learn how it worked. He navigated to his brother’s contact.

He picked up on the second ring. “Cassie! To what do I owe a call from my favorite sibling? Finally wanting to plan that trip to Vegas with me?” Gabe teased.

“No, I’ve actually been having a bit of trouble and thought I should let someone know.”

In an instant the humor left his voice. “Cas talk to me, are you alright?”

“For now I’m just fine. Michael has been stopping by every now and again for the last few months; he wants the grimoire. He’s been testing the wards and I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to wait before taking it.”

“He’s been… That asshole! I can come down there and kick his ass, just say the word. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I’ll be honest with you, I thought he was just joking at first. He’s made it more than clear now though that he’s planning on taking the grimoire at some point.”

“Mr. Fancy-pants just wants to boost his stupid ego. I can be on the next flight down to help with him. I’ll be there if you need me Cas.” He made sure the last part came across as sincere.

Cas appreciated the worry. “I know. I don’t think I need you here quite yet. I just wanted to keep someone informed incase I do need help with him. I’m handling it for now.”

“Okay… Just let me know next time it happens, I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you, Gabe, I will.”

There was some chatter in the background. “Aw shit, Cassie, I gotta go. Stay safe okay.”

“I will. I should be going too actually, I have some wards to repair.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Cas.”

He was about to respond when there was a small crash and Gabe swore before hanging up. He couldn’t help but shake his head smiling, while his brother could more than handle himself he was always finding trouble even where there should be none. He put his phone away, feeling a little better now that he had Gabe in his corner.

Castiel headed into his house to go about repairing the wards in privacy. Despite being some distance from his neighbors the last time he’d done the repair work from outside, Margaret from the “Town Improvement Organization” had driven by and stopped to watch. He hadn’t noticed of course, he had been deep in work repairing the wards and had no one there to pull him out. She made sure everyone knew of the man who fell asleep in his yard and didn’t even wake up when it started to rain, that she had to shake him, so now he preferred to work inside. He had never even found out how long she had been watching.

Sitting down in front of the fireplace, he took a deep breath and cleared his mind, ready to enter the floating space that allowed him to weave and repair his wards. What he hadn’t been expecting was the massive jump in power when he reached out for the first ward. It felt like something had supercharged his magic and the ward instantly stitched itself back together. It reminded him of what his magic had felt like after getting the grimoire. Confused, he reached out for another, the same thing happened. By the time he was done repairing the damage he wasn’t as drained as he usually felt, so he went about letting himself weave a few more protections throughout his plot and its plants.

The sun was beginning to set by the time he finally came out of it. Working with the extra magic had been… magical for lack of a better word. What confused him though was where this sort of jump had come from. He hadn’t done anything recently that should’ve resulted in such a thing. It didn’t seem to be anything harmful, so he’d not worry about it unless something changed. Maybe it would sort itself out.

For now he’d worry about the way his neglected stomach was growling at him.

~*~

At first he’d written off the power surge as something random, though it seemed to stick around much to the appreciation of his customers. A small growth charm that should’ve only helped produce minor growth in Mr. Anderson’s garden was giving him a record season. A simple protection charm bought by a young lady for her football player boyfriend seemed to have gained minor healing abilities; his supposed broken ankle during a game had been deemed a “false diagnosis” and just a sprain. And, most impressively, the balding Mr. Beaker had special ordered a salve for hair loss and he was now walking around with a head of hair that a model would be jealous of. Though once again Castiel told himself not to worry about it, none of this seemed to be negative; he would just have to make his charms a little weaker than he was used to.

Charlie had given him a look when she felt the power on the boosted charms, he ignored her questioning eyes for the rest of the day. Maybe he should start looking into his sudden extra power.

Though his boost wasn’t the only weird thing he’d noticed around the town. The next thing was that despite seemingly all of his charms being boosted, the one he had to keep the larger wild animals out of town was apparently not working correctly.

On Tuesday he’d looked up from his book when the door jingled, typically the store was very slow before closing. It was Sheriff Jackson.

“How can I help you today, Sheriff?” Castiel asked, reaching blindly for his bookmark.

“Well that’s the thing, not needin’ a refill on that joint relief stuff just yet. I’m here on official business. Looks like we got some sort of cougar in the area. Few people reported seein’ one ‘round town. Weird though ‘cause they don’t tend to live ‘round here. So jus’ here to tell ya to be careful when you’re lockin’ up.”

“Thank you for letting me know, I’ll keep that in mind when I’m opening as well.”

He tipped his hat and left with a jingle of the bell.

It didn’t make sense that there’d be a cougar in town. There hadn’t been any sort of animal related incidents since he’d moved here. And for the charm to fail in such a big way that a cougar got in? Something wasn’t adding up here.

That hadn’t been the only weird thing either. He had also heard talk of, and seen, a very noticeable muscle car that seemed to be appearing everywhere in town. With such a small town the flashy car had immediately stood out like a sore thumb and had caused a bit of stirring. He’d heard a group of girls talking at the coffee shop about the ‘rugged, green-eyed dreamboat’ it belonged to. He couldn’t help thinking back to the man he’d seen before he had gone to deal with Michael. What had really gotten his attention was when Margaret came up to him to talk about the man.

She slinked up to where he was waiting in line for his morning coffee. “So… Castiel.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Hello, Margaret. How can I help you this morning?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve seen that obscene excuse for a car that’s been driving around town lately, haven’t you?”

“I have seen it a couple times, yes.”

“Well, you’ll never imagine my surprise when I talked to the man driving it.”

Castiel perked up at this, the man had been in the back of his mind for weeks now. “Oh?”

“Yes, why I think he was just the sweetest thing. I had gone up to him at the diner parking lot to tell him about how that horrible loud engine woke my precious Timothy up when he drove past our house a few nights ago. I was gearing right up to put him in his place. But wouldn’t you know it, he was a real gentleman. Apologized to me all formal like and promised he wouldn’t take any more late night drives out of town. Even offered to buy me a coffee to make up for any lost sleep.”

“Well that sounds awfully kind of him,” he said, nodding along.

“I’m not even to the interesting part yet. I took him up on his coffee offer and we got to talking about what the town was like. After I told him about my position with the TIO, he figured I’d be a good person to ask. Well, do you want to know who he asked about?”

As much as he wanted to hear about the green-eyed man he was wishing the line would move faster. “Who was he asking about?”

“He asked me about you and your shop,” she said matter of factly.

He could feel his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “He asked about me?”

“Sure did. He was asking about your shop and then asking about what kind of person you are. Told him you were a little weird and rough around the edges, but that you got yourself a place in town by helping out just about everyone you saw.”

Castiel was actually surprised to hear a compliment about him come out of Margaret's mouth.

“Anyway that’s just about all Dean - that’s his name - asked about. Also heard him asking the cashier about your shop as I was leaving. If I didn’t know any better I'd say you’ve got yourself an admirer Mr. Novak,” she said, nudging him. When he’d first moved in she had been intent on setting him up with her sister, however once he made his preference known she’d begun nudging him towards any man she saw him so much as make eye contact with. It was… annoying to say the least.

“Thank you for the information Margaret. I will have to say hello if I see him around town.”

She smiled and finally left him alone just in time for him to get to the front of the coffee line. He picked up a cup for him and Charlie, who was more than thankful for it when she got in for her shift a little after he opened.

Despite being thankful for the coffee she didn’t wait long before digging into him. “So, what’s this I hear about the dreamy muscle car man asking about you?”

“Not you too,” he groaned

“Oh? Well, Cas, now you have to spill the beans.” Her eyes lit up, much to his annoyance.

“Margaret apparently had a conversation with him, and after he asked about me she decided we are soulmates.”

“Ah, of course. Just what any rational person would do in her shoes,” she said, nodding very seriously.

Cas snorted. “Who knows, maybe we’ll run away together the second we lock eyes.”

“Almost seems like magic. Hey! Maybe once you two elope you can bring him to game night, we need another for teams that way Gilda and I can kick your ass.”

Castiel laughed and shooed Charlie off to get to work. She was in the process of putting together a website for him. He let his work take over his thoughts as he got started on the special orders.

One thing still bugged him though, if this Dean had driven past Margaret’s house out of town he would’ve passed Castiel’s at some point, yet he’d never heard the engine rumble near his house. He shrugged it off; he had probably been sleeping.

~*~

After taking Margaret’s words into consideration he began to look for the man Dean every time he was out around town, and to his surprise he found him seemingly everywhere he went. For the first couple of weeks after the coffee shop reveal (he had started calling it that in his head) he constantly saw Dean out of the corner of his eye, yet every time he made a move to head towards him Dean seemed to freak out and disappear around a corner or down a street. However after those first couple of weeks he began to see Dean less and less. Even though it seemed he might be a stalker of sorts, the idea of not seeing him anymore left Cas feeling weirdly distressed.

But as the sightings of Dean and his car went down the sightings of the cougar went up. One lady had even approached him and swore up and down that she’d seen it just hop right out of the tree near his shop after he’d left for the evening. There was also a little kid who claimed it had turned into the alley he’d been in, and instead of eating him when he was freaked out it let him pet it. Castiel could even swear he’d seen it slip away a few times, but he never got a good look at it. Charlie and Gilda seemed to be the only people he knew who never had any sightings.

Everything that was going on was incredibly abnormal, so when he began to feel Michael making another attempt on his wards almost a month and a half after the last try it was almost a relief. So finally following some sort of routine he quickly interrupted Charlie who was with a customer, saying that his brother was here for another ‘visit.’ She gave him a quick nod and waved him off.

Yet… There was another thing that struck him as odd, the tugging and chipping that usually hit his wards when Michael was around felt more like a bug running into them.

He pulled into his driveway to an incredibly miffed looking Michael.

Stepping out of the car he waved. “Hello, Michael, stop by for another visit?”

“Umm… yes, just came to check to see if you had finally improved your wards. I have to say, I never thought you’d actually take up my suggestion.” It was clear there was an anger boiling just under his skin. It was finally Castiel’s turn to fuck with him.

He leaned against his car, a smirk playing at his lips. “Well, it was a very good suggestion. All your visits got me thinking about what would happen if someone actually came after our family grimoire? I simply decided that I refuse to let it fall into a thief's hands. I take it they… pass your inspection?” That got him.

“Cut the shit, Castiel! A powerless witch like you could never weave these kinds of wards, not even with the family grimoire. Where the hell did you get the power to set those up!?”

“Michael! I’m shocked. Are you insinuating you’ve been meaning to steal the family grimoire that our dear mother left me in her will? Shame on you,” he said flatly, trying desperately to prevent himself from laughing.

“Why don’t you just stop the fucking act and hand over what belongs to me!” Castiel was thankful he was within the boundaries of the wards or he had a feeling he’d be in trouble.

“Michael, mother left the book to me. You’re already a very powerful witch and you don’t need any more. I will not be handing it over today, or ever for that matter. So please pick your ego off the sidewalk and go home, I don’t want to see you back here again.”

“I will find out how the fuck you managed to boost your power like this. I’ll take both it and the book! I’m not leaving this town until I do.”

“Suit yourself, Michael, there’s nothing to find. Now if you excuse me I must be returning to my shop. For once you haven’t delayed me enough that I’m forced to put everything on Charlie.”

Castiel watched as he slammed the door to his car and sped off. Michael was clearly planning on making himself an issue for the next week or so. He could already feel the headache coming on. There wasn’t much he could do though, his offensive magic was okay at best and there was no way he was going to see what would happen with his new boost. He’d have to stick it out and let his brother poke around for a week or so before he inevitably got bored and found his way back to whatever city he was set up in now… surely there wasn’t any reason to call Gabe when it was clear his wards were safe.

So he did the only thing he could do when stuck dealing with one of his brothers; he took a deep breath, triple checked his wards and went back into town to take back over for Charlie, and maybe make something for headache relief while he was at it.

~*~

The first day of Michael being in town was uneventful for the most part. Castiel didn’t see him around at all, though he could feel his magic watching and waiting for some sort of big secret to be revealed. In fact, the only interesting thing about the whole day was Kendra - one of Margaret's friends from the TIO - coming into the store to give him more gossip on the mysterious Dean. It seemed everyone in town had deemed they were connected in some way and that the first one to find out how wins.

“Ohhh, Castiel,” Kendra called in a singsong voice as she entered. Charlie had winced at the sound, she had never liked Kendra.

He was really wondering when all this drama of late would stop, he needed a break. “Hello, Kendra. What can I help you with today?”

“Nothing dear, just here to give you the latest on the town’s mystery man.”

He perked up. “I thought he had left. No one’s seen him or that car in a while.”

“Well looks like our mystery man has a couple secrets. He may have checked out of his room, but he’s still around. Sheriff Jackson got a call this morning about a car in some bushes sort of out by your place. So of course the Sheriff called up Jerry to get his tow and they went to get it. Imagine their surprise when it was our mystery man’s car.”

“Had he crashed it?”

She was leaning on the counter now. “No, not at all. He had just left it there.”

“That’s odd.” From what Castiel had heard around town he figured Dean prided himself in the maintenance of his car.

“That’s what I said, but what’s even weirder is right as Jerry was about to hook up the tow our mystery man came booking it down the street. Sheriff said the man looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, or washed his clothes for that matter. He did get them to not tow the car though, so long as he actually parks it somewhere legal.”

“Do… Do you think he’s living in his car?” He didn’t understand why he felt so worried about this new information, he didn’t even know the man.

Kendra gave him the stink eye. “Does seem to be that way. He’s such a sweetie too, he doesn’t deserve it.”

“No, it doesn’t sound like he does.”

“Perhaps you should do something to fix it.”

He exchanged a look with Charlie. “...What?” he asked, more confused than ever.

“Well clearly he’s sticking around town for you, so whatever you did to that poor boy you need to fix it,” she said sternly.

“Now wait just a-” Charlie started.

Cas held up his hand to stop her, he didn’t need them getting into another fight in his store. “Kendra, I don’t think I’m the reason he’s sticking around. I say this because I’ve never had a proper conversation with the man, let alone done something that warrants him putting his health in jeopardy.”

She sized him up for a good moment. “You really don’t know him?” She sounded disbelieving.

“No I don’t, though it does worry me that this man everyone seems to think is extremely kind isn’t taking care of himself.”

She nodded, seeming a little embarrassed. “Well in that case, dear, I’m sorry. I suppose we all figured he was some sort of long lost love of yours the way he looked when he heard about you.”

“It’s alright, I suppose I should’ve made it clear that I don’t know him.”

“Well that’s all I was dropping by for. Sorry again Castiel. Though if you see him send him my way; I have a spare room and that poor dear shouldn’t be making himself sick.” She quickly made her escape.

Castiel took a moment to process what had just happened. Not only had half the town thought Dean was some sort of ex, but they had also apparently taken sides in their non-existent breakup. To top it all off the man apparently wasn't faring well, and for the life of him Castiel couldn’t figure out why hearing that made him want to switch into ‘caretaker mode’ as Charlie called it.

He had only ever had a few brief relationships, all with other witches and none of them lasted long. And while he had cared for them he had never felt this overwhelming urge to protect them from the world. He wasn’t sure he even felt this strongly about Charlie who was easily his best friend.

Charlie seemed just as shocked as him. “Okay… What the hell was that? I know I’ve heard a few things around town but that was ridiculous.”

“I- I don’t know what that was. I don’t think I’ve even had a proper conversation with the man. I have no idea why everyone seems to think we know each other, or at least why the neighborhood gossip moms do.”

“I’ve seen him around a few times, but every time I try and talk to him he seems to find a way to disappear. I’m not shocked that they managed to come up with some crazy rumor though. Remember the time they had half the town convinced Gilda was my sister and they tried to stage an intervention after someone saw us kiss?”

He grimaced, he had been at their apartment for a movie night when they had shown up. The whole thing was awkward and uncomfortable, kind of like what had just happened in his shop.

“I don’t think we want a repeat of that. And, did you say you couldn’t manage to talk to Dean either?”

“What do you mean either?”

“For a while it seemed like he might as well have been stalking me; but every time I’d try and talk to him he’d duck out and disappear.”

“That’s kind of weird… Do you think he’s going to try something.” She seemed genuinely concerned, Cas knew he should also be worried about something like this and yet he found he wasn’t.

He thought for a second. “I don’t think he’s a hunter, or at least not one here to harm us if he is. You’re right though, something weird is going on.” And he was going to try and figure out what it was, too many things weren’t adding up.

~*~

The next morning Castiel was tired and confused. He had spent all night trying to find a way to locate the ever mysterious Dean. First he’d tried asking around town, only to find out practically nobody had seen him in a week or two, and those who did said he looked sick as a dog and avoided most everyone. So he fell back to magic, while he disliked using magic for locating people and things - it felt like an invasion of privacy - he felt it might be his only way. Unfortunately it seemed like his magic was still on the fritz as it seemed to show the man circling his home, only his wards sensed no one and when he looked outside it was quiet and deserted. At this point he was completely lost, he felt the constantly surging need to find this man, yet he seemed to be a ghost.

Frustrated, he went about opening the store, restocking anything that had sold the day before and checking his email for any custom orders. He was debating going to get a coffee when Michael burst into the shop. He cursed himself for forgetting to finish the headache relief, he had a feeling he was going to need it after this.

Michael was grinning like he’d just won a prize. “Castiel! Wonderful morning isn’t it?” he asked, strolling up to the counter without a worry in the world.

“Hello, Michael. You don’t usually visit me at the store. What’s the occasion?”

“Well you see, little brother, I found out your little power boosting secret.”

“Oh?” Castiel would sure as hell like to know what Michael thought was boosting his power.

“Why yes. I can’t believe you ever thought you could hide it from me. I barely had to follow you for a day to figure it out.” He was inspecting the labels on a few of Castiel’s skin creams.

“And what do you think you’ve figured out, Michael?”

“Just that my little brother was apparently lucky enough to find himself a little familiar, yet somehow stupid enough to leave the bond unfinished.”

Castiel’s mind went blank and his magic swelled with an unexpected rage and jarring possessiveness. “...What?” he choked out.

“Play dumb all you want but I saw your little familiar following you around all day. Pretty sneaky little shit, didn’t notice it at first. But once I did see it, oh boy, you really haven’t been taking care of the thing. Why, I could practically see its ribs, and don’t even get me started on the state of its fur.” If possible his smirk turned even more malicious.

Something was scratching at the back of Cas’ mind, it was like a puzzle missing only one more piece. “I don’t have a familiar.”

“You can’t pretend anymore, and since it’s clear you don’t want the ratty thing I wouldn’t mind taking it off of your hands...”

Something was building inside of him, ready to burst with a single poke. Castiel didn’t understand why his magic was reacting like this, he’d never felt the need to lash out like this before. His magic had never been something that wasn’t in his control. It was terrifying.

“...It honestly looks more like a street rat than a cougar.”

He’d found the last piece. “A cougar?”

Michael rolled his eyes and talked slower. “Yes, the poor little thing you have following you around, boosting your magic for free. It’s a cougar.”

Everything was coming together. His animal protection charm wasn’t working because it wasn’t a wild animal in town, it was his familiar. His magic was boosted because his familiar had been maintaining a one sided bond for over a month now. Those had been known to be ridiculously damaging to the person holding it together. His familiar was the cougar everyone had constantly caught glimpses of.

It didn’t quite make sense though. Why hadn’t his familiar approached him? Why were they taking on the job of holding the bond together all alone? Clearly it wasn’t because they didn’t want him as their witch, otherwise they wouldn’t be boosting him. Maybe they were shy? But why wouldn’t they ask him for help if they were hurting?

While he pondered this he came to another quick realization, Michael was trying to take his sick familiar away from him. He wanted to use Castiel’s familiar to boost his magic.

Castiel’s magic surged forward at the idea and the bulbs in the small shop burst.

“You will not touch my familiar.”

While he startled at the bulbs bursting Michael quickly regained his composure. “Did I hit a nerve there? Honestly, Castiel, everyone knows a familiar is up for grabs so long as they’re not bonded.”

This was certainly not true. Every familiar had a witch that was theirs, though not every witch had a familiar. It was considered a horrible crime to force a familiar to bond with someone who wasn’t their witch. It could kill the familiar.

“You will not so much as even look at my familiar again!” The flooring under Michael’s feet splintered and his smile faltered.

“Well you clearly don’t want it, and you don’t need the boost with your little shop here,” he said, gesturing around. “Just hand the thing over and I’ll let you keep Mother’s miserable book.” He was trying to stand his ground, however it was clear he didn’t want to battle, at least not here. The shop was Castiel’s territory, his magic was threaded through the walls and in the ground. Michael would be at a disadvantage for one of the first times in his life if they fought here.

“You will not be taking my familiar or my grimoire! Get out now!” His composure was slipping.

The flooring cracked further, causing Michael to fall. “Castiel, think rationally. A low level witch like you simply doesn’t need a familiar.”

“I said leave !”

Michael narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He quickly picked himself off the floor and dusted himself off before slowly walking out. Castiel had no doubt that he’d be back to cause more trouble. However he now had more important things to worry about, like finding and helping his apparently sick familiar.

Taking a deep breath he pulled out his phone. “Gabriel, I think I need some help.”

~*~

He spent the morning cleaning up glass and fixing the floor boards the best he could, waving off the concerned looks Charlie shot him. The rest of the day was fortunately distracting with a stream of tourists coming through for the weekend. Though the second it hit his closing time he rushed everyone out the door so he could lock up and get to finding his familiar.

Cas decided to give another try at a location spell despite his last attempt not having worked out as planned. He was confident that the bond they had would allow him to find them, or at least he hoped.

Castiel carefully lay out his map of his property and the surrounding area on a baking tray. He figured he’d probably need to take the map outside, so might as well make the spell mobile. Taking his silver knife he made a small cut on his hand and blood pooled on the tray. Closing his eyes he allowed the short spell to tumble out of his mouth while he focused on concentrating his magic. Instantly he could feel the blood moving and concentrating on wherever his familiar was.

Slowly he opened his eyes, only to stare at the map in shock. His familiar was in or at least near the tree literally right outside his kitchen window. Though he supposed it did make sense, if his familiar was trying to protect him it would make sense that they were following him. It just came as a shock to him that anyone, even his familiar, was able to enter his warded area without him noticing.

He paused at that thought. What if he had been feeling his familiar? What if he just didn’t notice what it was he was feeling? Gently he reached out for his magic and wards, instead of searching them for any intruder he decided to look for a friend. Eventually he came across a small source of warmth that seemed to be perfectly melded to his magic. He reached out, instantly he was connected to a warm magic like he’d felt before. The entire thing felt like coming home, though it also felt worn, like it was too tired. This was his familiar bond.

Just as suddenly as he had found it he felt a small wave of confusion then a spike of fear tear though it and the walls came slamming down. Instantly Castiel was jumping up and looking at the map that was showing his familiar fleeing his property.

Panicking he practically threw himself out the door racing towards the tree his familiar had been in. For the first time he was able to see them, the cougar racing towards the woods.

He chased after them. “Wait! I need to...” it was too late, they were gone.

Castiel slowly dragged himself back to the house. He didn’t understand. The bond felt so warm, it felt right. He could also feel how tired his familiar was from carrying it by themselves. So why had they felt so scared when he was trying to take his part of it?

Finally back on the couch he felt again for the bond. Now that he knew what it felt like he could easily feel the extra magic that was available to him, though now there was no way for him to get in. His familiar was giving him everything they had. Cas could feel his heart breaking for them, this wasn’t something meant for a singular person. The moment he found his familiar and brought them home he would never let them take on anything like this alone ever again.

He looked down at the tray and couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the little gathering of blood that had rolled off the map. He was sure that if he could just talk to them for one second he’d be able to help. The question was just how to do that.

He spent the whole night sorting through the grimoire and the rest of his magical books. By the time the sun rose he was feeling defeated. He had found absolutely nothing and had no new ideas. He didn’t know how he was going to get his familiar to talk to him. It turned out though he wasn’t going to need any help to get close to his familiar.

Castiel jolted to full consciousness as he felt someone take a stab at his wards. No looking, no prodding, but someone trying to tear them down with everything they had.

He rushed out to confront the attacker, only to come face to face with Michael. He was honestly surprised it had taken his brother this long to snap. What did surprise him though was the fact that Michael looked like he had just come out of a fight with a grizzly bear. His clothes were torn through in wild streaks. A weapon? Claws maybe? There were bloody tears littering the man's skin. The most noticeable thing though was how angry he looked.

“Good morning, Castiel!” he yelled, taking another shot at the warding.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” He knew what Michael was doing.

“Well your little familiar refused to bond with me since I wasn’t his witch. Figured I could force the little asshole with his witch out of the way and I could take the grimoire too. The fucker apparentally didn’t like my idea and decided to go feral on me.” Another stab at the warding.

He paled at the idea of his familiar facing his brother alone. “What did you do to them?!”

Michael let out a terrifying laugh. “Don’t worry about him. Left it a little worse for wear but the thing’s not dead if that's what you’re wondering.”

That was the last straw. Castiel readied his magic. He wasn’t about to let his brother harm his familiar. He was going to protect him even if it meant hurting his own family. But Cas never got the chance.

With a sudden yowl the cougar, his familiar, bolted towards the two of them, coming to stop right in front of Castiel. He was finally able to get a look at the creature who’d been causing him confusion for weeks. It was one thing to feel that holding their bond afloat had been taking a toll on him but it was another thing to see it. In the way the cougar was holding himself it was plain to see he was exhausted, barely managing to stay on his feet. If one looked closely they could also see the outline of ribs beginning to show through his tawny coat. And finally Castiel found himself horrified by the several noticeable cuts that were still lazily bleeding; most likely a result from the previous fight with Michael.

“Little kitty, back for more?” Michael taunted.

He hissed, baring his fangs. The cougar shot a glance back at Cas before lunging for his brother. The only thing he was able to comprehend was that his familiar’s eyes were a startling green, a green that had been haunting him.

He watched as the cougar sank his fangs into Michael’s arm while a charge formed in his other “...Dean?” he tried, but the sound was drowned in a yowl.

The sound snapped him out of the state of shock he’d worked himself into. All he was able to register was Michael standing over his familiar before his magic exploded. He’d never felt his magic behave like this before, independently from him, like it was taking the initiative in keeping Dean safe. The next thing he was able to see was his brother lying unmoving on the ground and the cougar looking at him from where he lay on the road.

He dashed to Dean and knelt by his side. Carefully he cupped his head and smiled at the small sound he made.

“You’ve been busy haven’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “You’ve been keeping an eye on me for weeks now, holding our bond together all by yourself.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but he was cut short by the feeling of Dean going limp. “Dean? Dean!?”

A hand on his shoulder caused his magic to leap out again against his will, protecting him and Dean from anything else that would dare to hurt them. He glanced over his shoulder to see Gabe knocked on his ass.

“Woah! Cassie, it’s just me!” he yelped, raising his hands in defense. “Seems like you’ve gotten quite the little boost there.”

“Gabe! I’m sorry.” He felt like crying.

Getting over the sudden shock of getting knocked back Gabe took in the scene, his face hardening. “I’ll take care of Michael, you worry about your familiar.”

He nodded. Without thinking Cas quickly scooped up Dean (he was far too light), ready to bring him into their heavily warded home.

“And, Cas. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. You shouldn’t have had to deal with him.”

“...Thanks, Gabe.”

Chapter Two

Everything had always seemed to be stacked against Dean, even from the moment he was born. His mom Mary had been born a witch to the patriarch of the Campbell coven, Samuel, and his familiar Deanna. Mary had grown up not caring much for magic and chose to leave most of it behind when she had met John.

Mary had amazed him with her small feats of magic and they’d fallen heads over heels for one another. When she married John she had promised herself and him she’d raise her kids outside of the supernatural and outside of magic, it was too dangerous for little kids. Of course Dean had gone and ruined that when he was born; he wasn’t human, he wasn’t even a witch, he was a fucking familiar. Of course they didn’t know until he was older and able to take his familiar form, but Dean had still been the one to ruin everything for his family.

When Mary was about halfway through her pregnancy with Sam and had woken one morning to find a small cougar in bed with her and John, happily purring away. Naturally she had screamed at the small intruder, causing four year old Dean to pop back into his human form and start balling. Mary had stared at him in shock before she scooped him up and held him, a confused John joining in.

She had tried to take Dean’s newfound powers in stride. She’d scrounged up what she could on familiars and went about teaching him. She taught him about how people can’t know what he is, it would scare humans and witches might want to take him away. Dean had listened to every word she’d said.

Looking back on it, John hadn’t taken the sudden revelation about as well as Mary had. He started giving him a cold shoulder, and he seemed down right disturbed by Dean’s familiar form. All that seemed to change however when Sammy was born. Dean could recall what he’d said to this day.

“You’re a big brother now Dean,” he said, looking down at the tiny kid propped in Dean’s arms. “It’s your job to keep him safe.”

Dean nodded seriously, he could definitely keep Sammy safe, it was important for him to do so.

“And keeping Sammy safe means you gotta stay human okay?”

Dean furrowed his brows, he liked being a cougar, it was fun.

John shook his head at the look on Dean’s face. “You can’t keep him safe when you’re not human, and being a cougar will probably scare him.”

Dean didn’t want to scare Sammy, and Dad said it was his job to keep him safe, so if that meant not being a cougar he’d never be a cougar again.

At least that is what he told himself, Dean broke that silent promise about six months later. After he’d stopped changing, his skin had started to feel itchy all the time. He’d wanted to change so badly, but he hadn’t wanted to scare Sammy, so he didn’t. One day though, the whole little family had gone on a picnic. He’d only snuck off for a second and since Sammy wasn’t around he thought it would be okay to be a cougar for just one minute, just long enough to stop the itching. Dean had never noticed the witch watching him through the trees.

That night the witch had broken into their house with a plan to capture Dean to use as his familiar. He had been stopped by Mary at the cost of her life and their home. So really, it was Dean’s fault that Mary had died. It was his fault that Sammy didn’t get to grow up normal, and it was his fault that John hated him.

After Mary’s death John had taken up a life of killing monsters like the one that killed his wife, dragging along his son and his guard dog.

~*~

Dean always knew vaguely that he was a crappy familiar. He made a point of never interacting with any witches, any magic at all for that matter. He also neglected his familiar side so much to the point that some days he felt like he was on fire with the need to shift into his familiar form. In fact he was such a crappy familiar that he didn’t even do a good job doing what he was told, that’s what familiars were there for after all.

John told him two things when he left them at Bobby’s this time: look after Sammy, and don’t bother Bobby with any stupid shit. While he didn’t fail at looking after Sam this time he did fail at the second order.

After he thought Sam and Bobby were sleeping Dean carefully made his way down the stairs, skipping the creaking one at the bottom. On the other side of the living room was a big bookshelf, the day before he’d seen a book titled Witches and Familiars and he just couldn’t help himself, he needed to know more. As he reached for the book someone behind him cleared their throat.

“ Witches and Familiars ? Kiddo ain’t your Daddy hunting a ghost?” Bobby asked.

Dean pulled his hand away from the book like it burned, he couldn’t be caught. John told him what Bobby would do if he found out he was a monster. “Yes sir, s’was just wanting to know more.”

Bobby raised his brow and gave Dean a look that screamed bullshit , but thankfully gave him a pass. “Go hop on the couch, we’ll go through it together.”

Dean nodded doing as he was told. He’d have to be careful, one wrong move and he could ruin everything again.

Bobby plopped down next to him, the sudden weight shift causing him to bounce a bit. He flipped open the cover. “So, where’d ya want to start?” He waited for a moment before giving Dean a little nudge. “Not gonna bite, tell me what you were wantin’ to know.”

“Was wanting to learn about familiars, what they are n’ stuff… I know they’re weapons that witches use and that they’re kinda like skinwalkers, but I don’t know what they do,” he said, nervously chancing a glance at Bobby, the man seemed a little shocked.

“Jus’ about the only thing you got right was the kinda like skinwalkers part. C’mon, I’ll show ya.”

And he did, the book was filled with information on not only familiars, but witches as well. It told about how familiars were tactile supernatural creatures that could take an animal form and bond with witches; though instead of being a power trip for witches it was a mutual bond built on trust where witch and familiar protected one another. It also told of how familiars had a set witch that they were meant to bond with, but some witches tried to force a bond with any familiar they could get their hands on. And finally there was the part just on familiars and how they found their witches. When the witch was in a place where they were ready for their familiar said familiar would begin to feel a deep pull, not like the pull to change into their familiar form, or like the pull to touch others, but something deep in their core. Usually the familiar and their family would then make a trek to meet this witch, if they were part of a coven an alliance would be discussed.

Dean nodded along seriously as Bobby spoke, this was important, this book said that his witch would be meant for him, meaning when the time came he would need to be ready to go and protect them. He could protect them like he protected Sammy. He asked questions as Bobby went through each page, like ‘what does tactile mean?’ and ‘does it hurt a familiar if they don’t change forms?’ each answering something about himself he’d never known before.

Too soon Bobby shut the cover. “We better get ya to bed, your Daddy won’t be happy if you’re dead on your feet when he picks you up.”

He figured he had pushed his luck with getting Bobby to help him understand a bit more about himself familiars. But before he could scramble to bed Bobby plopped the big book down on his lap.

“Why don’t ya hold on to that? Maybe that can answer any questions that come up in the future?” Dean gave Bobby a hug for that, and because of the book he no longer had to wonder why it settled some of the itching inside.

~*~

Dean figured he’d always be thankful to Bobby for giving him just a little piece of insight. He was especially thankful because when he was seventeen and started feeling a deep tugging within his soul he knew what it was, he knew that his witch was ready for him to come find them, to protect them.

But he wasn’t ready. The tugging had started as he stood over the burning unmarked grave of two nuns, they had been in love and ‘cause of that they died. It was his first solo hunt and they hadn’t even fought him. He wasn’t sure if it was because they knew he was supernatural too, or if it’s because they knew something else. Regardless of the reason, they had led him to their little stash of worldly possessions and to where their bodies had been chucked and hastily buried. They gave him a smile as they disappeared and the soul deep tugging began. It was his birthday, he was seventeen, just seventeen.

More than anything he just wanted to follow the tugging, it felt like the right thing to do. He… he couldn’t though. He had to watch Sammy, and John needed him. When they didn’t need him anymore… then he’d go, but for now he’d stay.

He got in the impala and drove to whatever dingy motel they were held up in that week.

The itching was worse than ever, and now it was accompanied by that tugging.

~*~

Sam had left. Dean was twenty-two and Sam was eighteen. He left to go college to be some big shot lawyer and Dean couldn’t be prouder. He didn’t get to tell him that because John had all but pushed him out the door and thrown out his bag after him.

Once Sam was good and gone he told Dean he was going out to get a drink and not to wait up. He wasn’t going to, Sam was gone, and now Dad didn’t need him, he was finally free to chase after the tugging in his chest.

He watched out the window as John walked towards the bar he’d seen as they drove into town. It was probably only a five minute walk so it made sense that he wouldn’t take Baby. For Dean this was all he needed.

He scrambled around the room, tossing his loose items into his duffle as fast as he could. The well worn Vonnegut, a too big shirt Sam had left behind, and finally Baby’s keys clenched in his hand. There on that dinky twin mattress was the duffle containing his whole life, or at least the entirety of the life he had seen. He could feel the itching and the tugging, the feelings that pulled him towards the part of his life he still hadn’t had a chance to see and he smiled. He was finally going to do something for himself, he couldn’t fucking wait.

With Baby’s keys in his hand he slung the duffle over his shoulder and slammed the door. He felt there was some sort of significance to the way the neon lights of the motel sign lit up the night. Some sort of feeling they represented, or maybe something he was leaving behind. Either way in those too bright lights he stood a little straighter and squared up his shoulders, ready to start this part of his life right, with himself held high. The very air around him felt like it was part of a brand new world. The crunch of the gravel was applause pushing him from a life of itching and tugging and too much of everything on his senses, pushing him towards his ticket out of here.

He stood next to the door with the keys clenched. Would John be pissed that he took Baby? Almost definitely. Did he care? …No, not any more.

Giddy as can be he pulled open the door and swung himself into the seat. He ran his fingers over the steering wheel. “Just you and me now Baby. How about we go find that witch of mine.” Turning the key, Baby roared to life. Without another thought he left. Left behind John, left behind hunting and followed the tugging.

~*~

He never realized how much he took having another driver in the car for granted until he had been on the road for four days. When he started he was in middle of nowhere Nevada, now he was in butt-fuck nowhere Illinois. He’d driven non-stop each day until his legs started to get pins and needles, then he’d pull over and find the nearest motel to park himself at.

He’d get a few hours of sleep, but mostly he spent his time trying to figure out how someone was supposed to change into their familiar form. He had spent years shoving that side of him down, ignoring the itching that he felt down to his bones, ignoring himself in order to make John happy and not ruin Sam’s image of him. The funny thing is he’d imagine his witch wouldn’t want anything to do with a familiar that couldn’t do anything he should be able to do, so he was gonna figure it out.

Shutting the door he chucked his bag onto the bed and took in the room. Not the worst place he’s stayed. The room is a horrible puke yellow with a full length mirror taking up half of the back wall, but at least it’s clean. Growing up he figured that everyone just ignored the horrible stench of unclean rooms out of necessity; it wasn’t until he had gotten the book from Bobby that he realized the boosted senses were just a bonus of being a monster. He owed a lot to Bobby and that book, he’d probably owe more if the thing could help him get working right.

He found the book at the bottom of his duffel, hidden in an old shirt. He flipped it open to the section outlining familiars’ abilities. Supposedly they were varied for each familiar, but the baseline was heightened senses that lined up with their familiar form, the ability and need to shift into said form, and once again the ability and need to bond with a witch. He flipped forward a few pages to the specifics on familiar forms, he had always ignored this section, didn’t want to tempt himself into messing things up again, but now he had no one around that he could hurt.

“Blah blah blah… need to change forms, already figured that one out. …Comes naturally, well maybe if you don’t ignore it for like seventeen years. How a witch can help their familiar when stuck in one form?” Dean raised his eyebrow. “That’s oddly specific and possibly helpful.”

The section seemed to mostly cover when a familiar was separated from their witch and forced to maintain a form for too long. Not exactly what he was looking for but Dean was kind of limited on help here.

“...Reach out for their bond, that can’t be too different from the itch… right?” he asked, as though the book could actually tell him this. “What the hell? What do I got to lose?”

Setting the book back on the bed he stood up and shook out his arms. “Alright, Dean, you got this. Just do what you did when you were little. Turn into a cat or whatever the fuck it was. Okay.”

He reached down into the very core of his being, for that constant burning itch that had become so normal to him. The second he reached for it it flared to life, it felt like that time he’d stepped on a fire ant hill. He wanted to drop it so bad, just curl up into a ball and figure this out later, but he thought about the book, the way it had said to use the bond with his witch. He didn’t have a bond, but he sure as hell had something under his skin, so he tugged on it. He tugged on it until the burning turned into a horrible snapping of his bones, lava pushing through his veins, fog slowly filling his head. The last thing he remembered was thinking the ground was a lot closer than it should be before passing out.

Funny enough he thought the same thing when he woke up. The next thing he thought was how weirdly comfortable he felt, sure he still felt the deep tugging of his witch, but the itching that had been his companion for so long was gone… just gone. He never realized how loud a sensation could be until his whole body felt weirdly quiet.

He laughed with relief… or at least he tried. What had come out instead was a weird mix between a chirp and a huff that made him jump to his feet, not feet, paws. With this realization he quickly tumbled his way over to the mirror, just barely managing to avoid falling on his face. Looking in the mirror, rather than seeing his own face, Dean was face to face with an actual mountain lion.

Holy fuck! That’s me! He moved a little closer to inspect himself. He’d honestly been expecting a house cat or something from how he remembers being towed around when he was little before it all went to shit. This was so much better than he’d been expecting though. He opened his mouth to look at the fangs. He had to admit, this was pretty badass.

He’d spent the next hour or so getting used to his limbs and the way his already heightened senses seemed to have been turned up to eleven. By the time he was done Dean was honestly pretty proud of himself, he could turn into his familiar form and not fall on his face, not to mention he could probably tear someone apart with the fangs and claws he got out of it. The only issue was when he realized his room checkout was in an hour and he had no idea how he was supposed to turn back into a person. There was no longer any itch for him to grab onto, no guide… wait… he did have a guide!

He jumped up onto the bed where he’d left the book open the night before. Cautious of his claws he very carefully pawed the page until it turned. Blah blah bond… blah blah, oh, here we go. This should’ve been on the first fucking page. If the bond doesn’t work as a proper anchor other sensations or memories could be used to push a shift. Well, if he didn’t have the itch to push him this time he’d just have to remember what it felt like to be human… easy enough.

It was not easy enough. He tried to use memories of pain as his anchor. When hunting it had always anchored him to the present and been motivation to push himself. It didn’t work though, pain was a thing he’d feel no matter what form he was in. He racked his brain, what was something that grounded him? That was when it hit him. Something that had helped to ease the itch when he was a person, physical contact. It made him feel stupid just for thinking it. Like just the thought of needing another person to comfort him was somehow letting down everyone he knew. He pushed those thoughts aside, he’d let himself feel like an idiot if it didn’t work, for now he’d try.

He thought back to late nights on the road, the feeling of Sam passing out on his shoulder, letting him stay there even though there was a stray elbow buried in his ribs. The hug Bobby had let him steal the night he’d given him the book, how it felt nice to have someone wrap their arms around him like that. Finally he thought of the small gestures John would give, the small pats on the back after a job well done that left him beaming with pride, even when he was covered in blood.

This time it hurt a little bit less, he guessed it was probably faster too. His bones snapped and popped their way back into shape as he slowly sat up on the bed. He held his hands out in front of him, slowly flexing his fingers.

“...Cool.”

Dean liked to think he got better at it as the nights passed. He’d drive as long as he could, then he’d find a motel and practice shifting until he felt like passing out. It probably wasn’t the best way to do it, but he needed to figure things out as fast as he could. By the third night he felt like he’d figured things out pretty well, it didn’t even hurt anymore when he did it and it was nearly instantaneous. Dean was actually proud of himself, letting himself do this after so many years, it didn’t feel wrong like he’d thought it would, he didn’t feel like a monster. He felt more comfortable in his skin than he’d ever felt, in fact he was so comfortable that he spent the entire third night in his familiar form, just curled up on the bed.

Even though he felt he had the whole familiar form thing under control he couldn’t help the fear that spiked through him when he drove into a small town in butt-fuck nowhere Illinois and felt down to his very core that this was where his witch was. A small wave of magic had greeted him when he’d entered the town, probably warding or a charm; unlike all the other magic he’d felt in his life this magic was warm. It was late nights reading to Sammy, it was driving on a long stretch of road, this had to be what people meant when they said something felt like coming home.

It was a small little tourist town. Little shops lined the streets as he drove through looking for a motel of some sort. It honestly seemed like a nice little place, quiet, homey, something straight outta the hallmark channel. He could see why his witch picked it.

He pulled up to a small bed and breakfast, a little sign hung outside to advertise the place, The Drop Inn the sign read. Dean chuckled, as far as names when that was a pretty good one. He flipped open his wallet, there wasn’t a lot left, probably only good enough for a few nights. Well, if all went well with his witch he probably wouldn’t be staying at the inn long. If the book was accurate they probably wouldn’t want to be apart for more than a few minutes after they met, he felt giddy at the idea. Everything he’d been waiting for, a place to belong, someone who would let him protect them and return the favor, a family that didn’t leave, it was so close.

A man at the front desk greeted him. “Welcome to The Drop Inn, do you have a reservation or are you a drop in?”

Dean chuckled and the man beamed at him, clearly he’d been workshopping that one. “I’m just dropping in, not sure for how long.”

“No worries, so long as you make sure to pay for your stay we’ll be just fine.”

“I can do that.”

They made a little bit of small talk as the man, Mr. Burgton, rang him up. Apparently his wife made mean hashbrowns, and his son, who was visiting for the summer, always had something sweet up his sleeve.

“Well if he makes a pie be sure he saves me a slice,” Dean said with a wave.

“Will do, so long as you stop by for breakfast while you’re here. I think Mavis would get a kick out of you,” he responded, tossing Dean his key.

Dean caught the keys and gave a little salute before heading for the room.

It was the kind of room you’d expect from a mom and pop inn. The room had floral wallpaper and bedding to match, a little end table, desk, and an ensuite bathroom with crappy lighting. It was a hell of a lot nicer than the last couple of motels he’d stayed at, more expensive too. He’d probably only have enough for another night or two, unless he decided to go to a bar and hustle somebody. He couldn’t do that though, he didn’t want to do anything that would reflect negatively on his witch.

His witch… who’d he go and meet soon. He had to pause for a moment and breathe, this was it. He pocketed Baby’s keys and gave a wave to Mr. Burgton as he left the inn.

He was about to unlock Baby when he stopped. He was in a walking mood today, it was sunny, he could get some fresh air, work off some energy, and he didn’t have to worry about making any U-turns if he passed his witch. So once again he let the tugging pull him, this time towards the town's main road and little tourist shops.

He let the tugging lead him down past the little shops to one near the end of the road. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle, could his witch be more obvious? He was standing in front of what looked to be some sort of novelty magic shop, or at least some place that sold real hippy shit. One of the first places a hunter would look if they were on a witch hunt, or maybe it would be the last.

He caught movement inside, the lights went out and the little sign in the door was flipped from open to close. A man slipped out the door, apparently locking up for the day. Huh, it was a little early in the day for closing.

What captured Dean’s attention though was the second he laid eyes on the man the tugging in his soul dialed up to eleven before opening up into something more. The feeling of home he felt earlier passing into the town was all consuming, he could feel this man’s, his witch’s, magic welcoming him. It was like a breath of fresh air.

He was so caught up in the feeling he was completely unprepared for his witch to swivel around and run right into him. Impossibly blue eyes widened in surprise. They held each other’s gaze until Dean was able to collect himself as much as he could.

He rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed, he was already looking like an idiot. “Oh hey, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be in your way. So, here’s the deal-”

“Sorry we’re closed, and I need to be going,” his witch said, cutting him off.

The hope he’d held was slowly slipping through his fingers. He was probably pissed at him for taking so long, maybe he could explain. “If you could just give me a few minutes to-” He interrupted again, not even looking at him this time. “I really do have to go. It’s a matter of utmost importance.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean could feel what little he had left crumbling in front of him. The bond they had felt like it was beginning to fail, Dean held on with everything he could. Maybe he could convince him to change his mind, just to give him a shot.

His witch was still staring at him, Dean was blocking his path and moved to the side. He moved and his witch all but ran for a in the small gravel parking lot next to the little shop.

Dean didn’t even know his name. “Hey! Wait up!” He ran after the horrible little car his witch had climbed into. He watched as he drove out of his sight. Leaving Dean standing there, clinging to a burning bond.

~*~

After the bust that was Dean meeting his witch he found himself back at the inn, wracking his brain over how to get a chance to explain himself. Of course the whole thinking thing was kind of difficult at the moment, he was getting used to the burning feeling of the partially crumpled bond. It felt like the thing was using all his energy to keep it together, only a matter of time before it burned him out. Until then he was holding on with both hands.

Maybe he could show him how good a familiar he could be. He’d stay out of the way, he’d keep him safe. If that didn’t work he could say he gave it the good ol’ college try and split. He could call up Bobby for a case or something, he could even call John to see if he needed an extra hand. Sure John would be pissed at him, but at least it was a place to go.

He was so caught up with the what ifs that he nearly fell off the bed when he felt a small tugging on the bond. At first it was shy, then it went all out. Each minute that passed Dean could feel his energy being tested. Eventually he was able to wrap his brain around what was actually happening. Wherever Dean’s witch was he was using magic, and he was using their partial bond to boost it.

Dean could feel sleep hurtling towards him like a bullet train, but he couldn’t help but smile at what this meant. If his witch was willing to use their bond, maybe he’d be willing to give him another chance.

He woke with a jolt, groaning as he heaved himself up to look at the clock on the end table. It was about seven, meaning breakfast would be served soon. As much as he wanted to waste the day away sleeping off this exhaustion he promised Mr. Burgton he wouldn’t miss breakfast.

He stumbled his way into the tiny en-suite and forced himself to get ready for the day. Who knows, maybe a shower would actually wake him up a bit.

The shower did not help, breakfast did though. Mr and Mrs. Burgton were more than happy to let him load up his plate. He talked about all the places he had been to while traveling ‘round the states and they told him all about their honeymoon trip around Europe. They also talked his ear off about their son, home for the summer but working towards becoming a pastry chef, and his goal to take over the bakery in town. Their son, Matthew, had simply rolled his eyes in response to their gushing.

The whole environment was cozy and homey, almost made him forget about his cash troubles when he paid for the next night, and then the night after that the next day. He did run out of cash though on the fourth day. He figured Mr. Burgton knew he had no place to go and offered to let him stay a couple extra nights if he could fix up his old truck. Dean smiled when he shook his hand, praying the exhaustion didn’t show through. The Burgtons were too nice for their own good, if they thought he was sick they would insist he stayed for free.

His first few days in town Dean made a point of lurking around the shop in his familiar form, he was less likely to get found out that way he figured. He discovered that his witch was apparently friends with another witch who worked for him, that just didn’t sit right; made him feel like one wrong move and she would take him away despite the fact his witch was her friend. So it just added a new little challenge to his work protecting his witch, stay out of sight from everyone when in familiar form and don’t let the redhead witch see him at all.

After the first two days nosing around the shop he learned to recognize the warm tingle of the protective wards his witch had placed around the shop, meaning this was probably one of the places his witch was safest. The other place was the house on the edge of town that Dean had followed him back to one night, leaving Baby parked a ways down the road. With all the warding he’d know if his witch needed help before he was even in trouble. So when his witch was home or at his shop he gave him some space, space that he used to question the locals.

Truth be told he was going to try and ask around at the local diner but someone got to him first.

“Excuse me?”

He hadn’t even made it in the door when some soccer mom looking lady approached him. “Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

“Is that your car over there?” she asked, pointing towards Baby.

“She sure is.” Clearly that was the wrong thing to say as the woman looked like she was getting ready to chew him out.

“Well, Mr-” She paused, clearly waiting for him to give his name.

“Winchester, Dean Winchester.”

“Well, Mr. Winchester, I’ll have you know that when you drove that loud car of yours out of town a few nights ago you passed my house. The engine on that thing is so loud it woke up my poor Timothy.” She stopped again, expecting him to grovel at her feet or something.

He opened his mouth, ready to hash it out when he remembered what he was here to do, protect his witch and not make a scene. “Ma’am I’m real sorry I woke up your kid with my car. I’ll make sure to save my trips out of town for the day. Could I get you a cup of coffee inside to make up for it?” Since Mr. Bergton was letting him stay for free while he fixed up the truck he had a little cash left.

“Thank you for your apology, Dean, I think I’ll take you up on that cup of coffee.” Not waiting for Dean she marched in and selected a booth.

She barely even waited for him to sit down before she started up again. “I don’t believe I introduced myself, my name’s Margaret, proud member of the Town Improvement Organization, TIO for short.”

That got his attention. “Wow, congrats. In that case I bet you know the town pretty well right?”

“Yes indeed. I know just about everyone who lives here and most of the town's history too. Do you have any questions since you’re new here?”

It felt wrong asking others about his witch, but he wanted to know what kind of person he is. “Uhh yeah, I saw that there was a little novelty magic shop in town. Little bit of an oddity in this kind of community huh?”

“Oh that sweet little shop is run by Castiel and you’d be surprised by the things he sells, they’re small but seem to work wonders. You’d almost think he was really magic.”

Dean chuckled. “Maybe he is. And, Castiel? That’s a bit of an odd name.”

“I think it’s biblical,” she says absentmindedly. “He’s a bit of an odd fellow, but he has a big heart, always helping out everyone he can. Once he spent every Sunday for a month last summer helping fix the garden in the retirement home a town over.” He seemed to have picked the right person to poke for information.

The conversation only went from there as some other ladies who seemed to be part of Margaret’s little organization came over and joined in gushing over Castiel. He learned a few things, Castiel sometimes went by the nickname Cas, and he seemed to be the equivalent of a guardian angel to the people in this town. In fact he heard so many stories he was almost dizzy by the time he decided to get back to lurking around the shop in his familiar form. He knew one thing for certain though, Cas was too good a person to have gotten stuck with a familiar like him, it’s no wonder he didn’t want Dean. That didn’t matter though, it was clear that his witch deserved to have someone look after him, and he was more than happy to do that.

As time wore on he took to avoiding his witch when he saw him. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with Dean given how he was and the fact that Cas was some sort of angel. The only reason he could think of for his witch to approach him would be to tell him to get lost, something he couldn’t do. His witch did seem to be focused on confronting him though, so the more Cas looked for him, the more time he spent hiding in his familiar form. If a few of the locals spotted him it was no big deal, absolutely nothing to worry about, the only thing that mattered was protecting him and staying out of his sight.

Things did get a bit harder when he finished fixing up Mr. Burton’s truck, he refused to take advantage of them any more than he already had. It wasn’t like he hadn’t slept in Baby before, hell, he’d even crammed back here with Sam when they were younger. He’d driven towards Cas’, might as well stick close. He hid her just off the side of the road, wincing at the damage he’d do to the paint job as covered her in foliage.

He spent most of his time in his familiar form camped around Cas’ house, or in the tree outside the shop. At night once the witch turned off the lights he’d retreat back to Baby and try to squeeze in as much shut eye as he could.

As much as he hated to do it, one night he’d unburied Baby and gone a town over to hustle up some money for food. The bond strained against him the whole time, urging him to go back to his witch. He remembered Bobby’s book saying something like that about new bonds. He was just glad there was no one from town there, last thing he’d want to do was let any of his choices reflect back on Cas.

He had barely gotten any sleep that night, which only made the next day even shittier when he had to talk that cop out of towing Baby, apparently in his drained haze he hadn’t hidden her well enough.

When he’d been in town for over a month he wondered if Cas even needed his protection. Everyone in town seemed to love him, he had good friends in that other witch and her girlfriend (another witch he had discovered), and it seemed like his magic did the protecting for him. He’d give it another few days, if nothing changed he’d confront Cas and see if maybe he changed his mind about not wanting a familiar, if not, he’d take being told to leave head on and see if maybe Bobby had any use for his hunting skills. Of course a few days later things changed.

~*~

With how the morning started he should’ve known things wouldn’t go well today. He’d practically had to beg the sheriff to not tow Baby this time either. He’d ended up falling asleep in some of the bushes by Cas’ house and woken up later than usual, in fact he was so late getting up that Cas was already well into starting his work day by the time Dean got there.

He’d been sitting in the tree next to the shop when Cas had suddenly burst out and ran for his car, much like he had the first day they met. It startled him so badly he almost fell out of the tree. The second Cas’ car was out of view; he hopped down and used the bond as a guide to hurry after him. He may have scared a person or two by bolting through the town, but staying hidden didn’t matter nearly as much as keeping Cas safe from whatever had him running like a bat out of hell.

He ended up outside Cas’ house where he caught the tail end of some sort of argument. The man was another witch, and a powerful one at that. Dean was immediately on alert.

“-and the book! I’m not leaving this town until I do,” the man yelled. Dean’s senses screamed at him. His body seemed to come alive with the threat towards his witch. His mind blanked, the only thought left was one that urged him to do anything he could to take down the other man. No one was going to touch his witch.

He felt like an animal, completely zeroed in on the person who threatened what was his. His claws extended and he bared his fangs. Dean could feel his body getting ready to lunge, to attack; at least he did until his witch spoke up.

“Suit yourself, Michael, there’s nothing to find. Now if you excuse me I must be returning to my shop. For once you haven’t delayed me enough that I’m forced to put everything on Charlie,” Cas responded. The way he spoke so calmly imminently drew Dean back to attention. Was this other witch not the threat he seemed to be? No, he shouldn’t just assume that, assuming is what gets people killed, it’s what got his mom killed. He refused to repeat past mistakes with his witch.

Dean watched as the offending man - Michael - got in his car and sped off. Castiel sighed in a sort of resigned defeat before getting in his own car, clearly whoever this was is someone Cas knows, and this has happened before. This seemed like it was different though, Michael seemed angry at his witch, angry enough to be sticking around.

Castiel pulled out of his driveway, assumingly heading back to his shop. What was he supposed to do? Should he follow this Michael and try to take him out before he can lay a hand on Cas? Or should he follow Cas and keep an eye on him in case Michael tries to pull anything?

Cas. He’d follow Cas. It was his job to keep him safe, to be there if anything happened, to be his shield. What if the other witch had some trick up his sleeve? It was much safer for him to stick by Cas.

So when his car was just out of sight Dean chased after him, using the foliage as a cover.

~*~

The day was spent on alert. Circling Cas’ shop while trying to stay out of sight and staying ready in case any unfamiliar magic made itself known. And it did.

It had been near the end of Cas’ work day and Dean was watching from a nearby tree. The feeling was subtle at first. The feeling of something wrong, like he was being watched. Then he felt the oily magic, only it wasn’t directed at Cas, not at his shop or at his wards. No, it was directed at Dean. His fur stood on end. For once he didn’t feel like a predator. He wasn’t the hunter anymore, he was the prey.

Slowly Dean turned his head towards the source and locked eyes with none other than Michael. Michael who looked at him with an oh so familiar look. A look of greed, a look that told him everything he needed to know, and he’d seen before his family was torn apart. It was of a witch who had just found a familiar and wanted nothing more than the power that Dean could give them.

In other words, he was fucked. Dean hadn’t even considered the possibility of being a target. He was supposed to be looking out for Cas, not for himself. That was where he had fucked up.

The slimy magic seemed to run over his fur, it was probably supposed to be some form of an invitation. A chance to give up and go with Michael willingly, to let go of the bond he was barely holding together on his own and join a different one. A wrong one. Dean hissed. No fucking way he was giving up his witch that easily. He had screwed up sure, maybe his witch didn’t want him yet, but there was no way he was letting go the only person he had right now without a fight.

It seemed like Michael wasn’t expecting Dean’s rejection with the way his eyebrows shot up and a look of disgust overtook his features. Did he really think Dean was going to drop Cas and go with him that easily? Clearly he didn’t know anything about familiars or Dean if he thought that a simple invitation would turn him against Cas.

He hissed again. Michaels look of disgust turned to a sneer before he walked away. Dean could feel himself calming as the oily feeling left the area, though it was clear that this wasn’t over yet. Dean had gone and screwed up again. How was he supposed to protect his witch when he himself was now apparently a target?

Dean looked towards the shop, he could see in through the window. Cas was talking with a customer. Some lady who looked like she was chewing him out, for what Castiel obviously had no clue if the increasing look of confusion on his face was anything to go by.

He had a feeling that something was going to give, and soon. But until that happened he’d let himself enjoy what he did have, and that was watching Castiel’s range of facial expressions as the lady continued to rant. He felt just so… fond when Cas apparently realized what the lady was talking about and responded to her, causing her to become apparently embarrassed. He huffed out as much of a laugh as he could in this form, his tail swaying and rustling the leaves.

Yeah, he could enjoy what he had here. And he did. He enjoyed watching Cas the rest of the day. He enjoyed watching him check everything twice before closing, and then checking again through the windows. He enjoyed watching Cas’ key get stuck in his car door and how he jiggled it a few times and swore quietly under his breath before it came free. If things worked out maybe Dean would get the chance to fix it for him one day.

And he loved the way Cas’ wards seemed to greet him once Dean made it to Cas’ house. The way each made itself known as he walked around the edge of Cas’ property as though they were friends he hadn’t seen in a long time. He loved how much being around Cas felt like having a home, and he sure as hell hoped the foreboding feeling he had was wrong.

~*~

Dean had fucked up.

He fucked up when he had let Michael see him. He had relied too much on the fact that no one would recognize him as a familiar except maybe other witches, and because of that he’d messed up. He’d made himself a target. But his real fuck up was assuming that now that he was a target that Michael would leave Cas alone, at least for a little bit.

Dean had slept in that morning, giving into the weight of the exhaustion he felt. He was hungry, tired, and emotionally wrung out. But it was fine. This isn’t the hungriest he had been, he’d experienced worse with Sam growing up, so it’s fine. And as for how tired he felt, he was using almost everything he had to hold onto the bond. Each day it felt like the support beams holding it together gained another crack.

He… he just needed a minute, and Cas’ wards were… warm? So he’d given into exhaustion, and apparently he was a bit more out of it than he thought. Instead of walking up when Cas was getting ready to leave like he had intended to, he woke up to a violent burst in the bond.

Dean jolted up, barely pausing to get his footing before booking it away from the house towards his witch. The bond felt mad, or at least Cas felt mad. Scratch that, Cas felt furious. The bond almost felt like it had been offended and was ready to back Cas with everything it had. He could feel the bursts of magic as he ran. Cas was using his magic out of anger, something was wrong and Dean wasn’t there to help him.

Dean clutched at the bond, praying that nothing happened to Cas as he pushed his legs as far as they could go, barely caring if he was spotted or not.

By the time Dean arrived at the shop the magic and anger had faded, and all that he felt through the bond was a feeling of fierce protectiveness. There was also a lingering smell of petrichor, something he’d come to associate with Cas’ magic, though this felt stormy.

Dean hopped into the tree and gazed in through the window, taking in the splintered wood of the floor, and the shatter light bulbs that were currently being swept up. Someone had threatened something of Cas’ and he’d gotten mad. That wasn’t something he’d seen Cas do in the entirety of the time Dean had been protecting him. But… he’s fine now, it wasn’t something he needed to linger on. Right? Dean allowed himself to relax, breathing in deeply in an attempt to catch his breath.

Of course that was when he caught the other scent in the air and he noticed the faint traces of the oily magic that seemed to almost drip off Michael. Michael had threatened Cas, or at least something of his witch’s. This was his fault. Michael probably would’ve left Cas alone if Dean didn’t get caught, if Dean hadn’t messed up. He cursed himself.

He wasn’t doing better. He was supposed to be proving to his witch that he could stay out of the way. His job was to provide support for Cas and keep him safe. He’d already failed him for so long, Cas’ magic had called to him and Dean had ignored it. He had to do better. Because Dean didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t be better. The bond, no matter how tired it made him felt right. Dean knew that wasn’t a reason for him to burden Cas like this, with a familiar who didn’t know how to be one. But, for once in his life he wanted to be selfish, he had something and he wanted to keep it.

He can’t lose this, no matter how much it’s hurting him right now. Because if Dean can hold on long enough for Cas to decide to give him a chance then it’ll all be worth it. And… he wasn’t sure if he could survive the bond breaking.

From this point on Dean would do his best. What he’s been doing isn’t working, he needs to try harder.

Dean stays in the tree the entirety of the time that Cas is in the shop. Normally he’d leave at some point to go get food, or something. The shop was supposed to be a safe place for Cas, somewhere Dean could trust nothing to happen to his witch. But Michael went and threw that idea right out the window and stomped on it, so keeping an eye on his witch it is.

Trees seem to be his thing today, so much so that he finds himself in one of the trees outside Cas’ house that night. Part of Dean’s ‘do better for your witch plan’ means not letting Cas out of his sight until he’s asleep and for sure safe in his warded house. So he’s waiting for Cas’ to fall asleep ‘cause at this point he doesn't trust his witch to stay put long enough for him to get some grub and get back.

As Dean laid there he could’ve smiled. Despite the fact that his witch had a horrible sleep schedule - something he would fix once Cas let him get close - he thought it was kinda sweet the way Cas stayed up a bit too late doing magic. Dean wasn’t sure what kind of magic he was doing, but he could see Cas with a tray in front of him, brow furrowed in confusion. Whatever it was he was trying hard to figure it out. He watched with joy as Cas’ eyes seemed to light up with an idea. Dean eagerly waited to see what his witch was gonna try.

There was a moment, and then he felt it. It was a jolt through his entire being, stretching him as far as he could go, but at the same time it was the sort of feeling that he could fall back into and simply float. It felt like Cas was cradling their bond with his magic. He peeked open an eye, he wasn’t sure when he had closed them. He could see Cas through the window, still sitting with the tray in front of him, only his eyes were closed and his hands were out. A small warm glow was filling his palms. Cas was holding their bond. Dean wanted nothing more than to live in this feeling forever, to go into the house, plop himself down next to Can and never move again. If this is what it felt like when Cas lent his magic to the bond Dean never wanted to be without it again.

But… Dean sat up a little straighter. Why was Cas holding their bond? Dean hadn’t made it up to Cas yet. He hadn’t made up for all those years he left Cas alone.

He could feel their bond shift under Cas’ hands, a slight change then sent fear shooting through Dean. What if Cas wasn’t holding their bond because he’d decided Dean deserved it now? What if he was holding it because he was sick of Dean following him around and wanted to shatter it? It looked so small in his hands. With the way Cas’ magic seemed to be getting stronger lately a small bond like theirs could next stand up to it.

Dean wasn’t ready for that! He needed more time. So as much as it pained him, he slammed down a wall between them. The kind he’d read about in the book Bobby gave him, the kind that meant he could still help Cas be stronger, it would just make the bad effects of the bond even worse.

Dean watched for just long enough to see Cas jolt out of his trance as their bond disappeared from his grasp then he ran. He jumped out of the tree and ran as fast as he could away from Cas. Be better, you have to be better. He ignored Cas calling for him to wait and he ran off the property.

He will be better. And he knew how to do it.

~*~

It took Dean awhile to catch a feeling of the greedy magic in town, but once he did he followed it. It rolled about in sickening waves. Michael was a danger to Cas and his possessions. Dean wanted… needed to take care of this for Cas. If he got rid of Michael, or at least got him to leave town, maybe Cas would be happy enough with him to let him stay on a trial run. Or maybe at the very least if Cas still didn’t want him Dean could ask him to hold their bond like that for maybe just a little bit again before he broke it. And maybe if he was a bit luckier than that, Cas could wait until he was out of town before he broke it. No sense in leaving his witch with a body to clean up.

He followed the trail to a back alley in the little business part of town. It was surprisingly deserted at this hour, meaning neither of them would have to worry about holding back. Dean felt like he was walking into a death trap. Michael’s magic no matter how disturbing it was also felt strong. But Dean had an element that Michael didn’t, desperation. Dean needed to do this for Cas like he needed air. This was his shot and if he blew it he was not gonna make it.

For Michael going after Cas and Dean seems almost like a game. It just feels like Michael wants to take things away from Cas, not even necessarily hurt him; if that’s what Michael wanted to do he would’ve already done it. But that also means that he is in it for the long haul and won’t be expecting Dean to come at him with everything he has. He has a chance. And a chance is all he needs.

“Did the little kitty change its mind?” Michael stepped out from around a corner.

Dean growled at him.

“No hmm? So did you just come here to warn me off of your witch? Because it won’t work. Castiel is my baby brother, and he has something I want, so if you’re not willing to come with me, then I’m not leaving till I have it.” He smirked and took a step closer.

Brother? Dean could work with that. He wasn’t sure Cas would appreciate it if he killed one of his siblings, so he would just stick to trying to run him out of town. Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna use his claws though.

When Michael took another step Dean lunged. He took a small amount of pride in how shocked Michael looked as Dean’s claws connected with his shoulders. Did he seriously think Dean wouldn’t fight him? Roughly he toppled the witch over, pinning him and leaving them face to face. Dean yowled, trying to put as much meaning behind it as he could. He wanted this man to get out of his witch’s town.

Michael regained a bit of his breath. “So, kitty’s got claws.” Dean let them sink in just a bit further, noticing the way Michael’s eye twitched. “Well, two can play it that game.”

He felt the slimy magic a moment too late, debris from the alley were floating all around them and Michael had decided to throw a plank at his ribs. It hit him with enough force to throw him off of Michael and into a crate that splintered at his impact. A few pieces stabbed into his skin. So much for having any sort of upper hand. Any advantage he had was long gone.

Dean brought himself back to his feet and turned to face down Michael once again. This time Michael was at the ready with little hunks of metal and rock. Dean gave him a cheshire grin, he wasn’t gonna go down so easily.

And he didn’t, but he still went down. Dean had been too exhausted to continue trading blows long term, but he did manage to scratch Michael up pretty badly. He scratched him up to the point that that stupid ass smile had finally fallen from his face. By the end of it he was breathing heavily and covered in seeping claw marks.

Dean actually wasn’t as bad off as he could’ve been, but his body wasn’t really responding anymore. He had pushed himself too far and it still hadn’t been enough to take care of this for his witch.

Dean tried to get up from where he lay in a heap of trash. His front paws buckled beneath him. That’s something that wouldn’t have passed with John.

Michael seemed to take that as some sort of victory, and that smile Dean had worked so hard to wipe off his smug face returned. “Stay down.” He waited for a moment. “Good, now that you’ve learned your place are you ready to bond with me?”

Dean mustered up a growl.

“You only have one line don’t you? Nonetheless, your bond is weak, it shouldn’t be hard to get through. I won’t even need the grimoire if I get you. ” Michael approached and reached an arm out towards him, staying far back enough that Dean couldn’t swipe at him.

He’d really fucked this one up. Dean looked at the sky past Michael’s head. Early light was just starting to show in the clouds, chances were in another hour or so Cas would be getting up. Dean would hate to wake him up early with the feeling of their bond collapsing if Michael was strong enough to force the threads of it to snap.

The magic reached out for him, for where a bond might form when a familiar meets their witch. Dean waited for the inevitable plunge into his magic. But… it seemed to just grope around for a minute before recoiling. Michael looked frustrated? For all the guy talked himself up did he not even know the first thing about familiar and witch bonds? Of course they didn’t stay on the fucking surface once formed; they would be too easy to mess with that way. No, they moved into the familiar’s and the witch’s magic after they formed, it was a layer of protection between the bond and those who wanted to mess with it. But if Michael was too much of an idiot to know something Dean had scraped from a single book, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything.

“You still won’t bond with me will you.” It wasn’t a question. The frustration and anger showed on the man’s face. “Fine! I’ll just have to take out your witch. Castiel shouldn’t pose too much of a threat, his magic’s always been weak, and with thinking he’s all high and mighty, he’s put too much stock in the boost he’s gained from you.” He stood up.

Fear flared through Dean. His witch was now a serious target. A target for his own brother who wanted Dean to boost his magic.

Michael started walking away. “See you soon. I don’t imagine you’ll be moving much once the bond is broken, but try to stay out of sight.” He tossed a glance back at Dean. “You won’t be of much use to me if someone shoots you before I can get back.” And with that insightful advice he turned the corner and left Dean alone.

Dean gave himself a second. He was injured. Slowly bleeding from a few gnashes littering his body. He shifted slightly and winced at the pain. There was something wrong with his ribs for sure, hopefully just bruised, if they were cracked he probably wouldn’t be able to do anything. Though what he should probably be most worried about was the way his head hurt like something was pounding on it, it was enough to make his vision blur. With all this in mind he gave himself a moment.

He just needed a little bit of time to breathe. Dean needed to round up any sort of energy he had left in his body and force himself up. He may not have much, but he had a GED and a give-em-hell attitude and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Cas get murdered by his own brother because of Dean. He still had time to fix this.

He waited, and once he felt that he wouldn’t immediately collapse he forced his legs under himself. It hurt, but thankfully the pain was manageable. Shakily he pushed himself up, his vision swam like it did when he’d gotten up too quickly when sick. But he stayed standing, so he’d count that as a win.

Slowly he began pacing in the direction Michael left in, the direction of Cas’ house. The sun was up a bit more now, making the morning fog visible and chasing away a bit of the chill. Dean continued on through the little shopping district and towards the road that led to Cas’. His left hind paw was dragging a bit, but he ignored it in his attempt to push forward.

Dean’s gate slowly increased with a looming sense of urgency and he felt for the bond. The bond was dim in the way that it meant Cas was still mostly asleep, shifting just a bit as he was getting ready to rise to consciousness, when suddenly it jolted. And with that Dean took what he could and sprinted.

The scene as Dean arrived set his blood alight. Michael was pounding at the wards with his magic, doing his best to tear them down. And Cas himself was readying his magic to strike. Dean could buy him a few seconds to do what he needed.

Dean yowled and leapt to stand in front of his witch. In the long run he wouldn’t be able to do much with how messed up he already was. But maybe if Dean could buy Cas some time he would have a chance to get rid of Michael.

“Little kitty, back for more?” Michael taunted.

Dean hissed a reply. If the situation was different he might have laughed at the deja vu.

Dean shot a glance black at Cas who was staring at him with wide eyes. Why he looked so shocked Dean couldn’t understand. His witch was good and kind, at least according to the people in town and what he’d seen, so of course Dean would do what he could for him here. Dean could only hope Cas could use the opening. He planted his feet and lunged at Michael.

Dean sunk his fangs into Michael’s arm this time, holding on tight even as he grunted and tried to shake Dean off. If he could hold on long enough to give Cas some sort of opening then that was all that mattered. His blood was pumping in his ears.

He could feel Michael’s oily magic starting to build up in the palm of his free hand. A small whirling mass that he imagined might just be the tipping point in his injuries. Dean chanced a glance back.

But he didn’t even have a chance to look at Cas. Michael’s magic burrowed into him and flung him to the side. Dean bit back a yelp as he hit the ground. There was an unpleasant feeling in his chest. Shit, if his ribs weren’t cracked before they are now.

Dean must’ve blacked out for a moment, as the next thing he knew Michael was no longer standing and there was a hand cradling his face. Dean forced his eyes to focus, it was Cas. He thinks this may be the first time his witch has looked at him with those eyes, eyes that were full of worry and some weird form of relief.

“You’ve been busy haven’t you.” Dean wished he could respond. “You’ve been keeping an eye on me for weeks now, holding our bond together all by yourself.” Dean let himself relax, Cas acknowledged his efforts. His witch had him now and his hand was warm and felt nice in his fur. He wasn’t sure he even cared about whatever happened next.

Dean gave into his foggy mind and let everything go dark. Cas had him now.

Chapter Three

“Thanks Gabe,” Cas said. He watched for a moment as Gabe made his way over to Michael before he turned all of his attention to the familiar in his arms.

Dean looked horrible. He was emaciated. Cas could easily spot his ribs and the way his skin almost looked like it was hanging from his body. There were cuts littered across his skin, thankfully it looked like most of the bleeding had slowed. However his fur was now matted with blood. It was clear that he had to be completely and utterly exhausted with the way he had been holding the bond together for so long. His energy had to be more than drained.

Cas set his face. First things first, he had to get Dean somewhere safe. His magic magic was practically screaming at him that where they were now was too exposed, not protected, not safe. Cas let out a breath, he needed to stay calm, he couldn’t let his magic be in control right now or he might do more harm than good.

Castiel carefully shifted his arms under Dean. He let his magic wrap around his familiar almost like a blanket. He’d do his best to make sure that he didn’t cause any unnecessary harm while moving him. When he felt his magic finish settling, Cas made a move to stand up, he almost fell backwards from how light Dean was, somehow it was worse than he’d expected.

Cas casts a glance over at Gabe who appears to be maneuvering Michael into his car. Gabe is lifting their unconscious brother with his magic and dragging him by the ankle. Cas almost wants to laugh.

With the knowledge that Michael is taken care of, Cas turns back to his house and begins to carefully carry Dean to it. His heart breaks at the little whine his familiar unconsciously lets out when Cas jostles him a bit getting up the porch.

“Shit, sorry. Don’t worry. We’re almost inside, then we’ll get you all settled and start with your injuries. I’ll give my friend Charlie a call and get her to bring over her girlfriend Gilda.” He paused to open the door and shift them inside. “Gilda has something of a talent for healing people and animals. She’s the town vet and everything. I’m sure she’ll be able to help us.”

Cas brings Dean to the living room and pauses. The couch probably wouldn’t be the best, Dean might roll off if he panics when he wakes up. And even if he did lay down some blankets and pillows it probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable. Dean should be as comfortable as possible, because if Cas’ assumptions are correct then Dean has been sleeping outside or not at all for sometime now. His familiar deserved as much comfort as Cas could offer him after everything he’s been through. In that case, the guest room is the best option.

He turns and makes his way down to the end of the hall. It’s a little bit stuffy from lack of use, but he doesn’t want to risk the stairs to settle Dean in his room. Cas makes his way over to the bed and carefully sets Dean down. Some red seeps into the sheets from the wounds. He ignores it, that’s what spare sheets are for.

Cas takes a moment to look at his familiar. It just feels wrong. Dean shouldn’t be like this, he should’ve been safe by Cas’ side from the moment he got to town. Cas sighed, he can’t focus on that right now, he has to focus on doing what he can in the moment.

He pulls out his phone and calls Charlie. It’s almost to voicemail when she picks up.

“Cas?” She wasn't coming into the shop today, so chances are she stayed up working a freelance job. “It’s like seven in the morning. What the hell?”

How is he even supposed to start this? “Charlie,” he says, almost desperately.

The change is like night and day. “Cas?! What’s wrong?” she says, now sounding completely alert.

“I found out where my extra power was coming from. Turns out the mystery man is my familiar. And… Michael hurt him, and he’s been hurting himself.” Cas is pacing the room, looking at Dean every other word as though he might get worse in the second he looks away. “I need… I need help. Can you and Gilda get to my house? Gabe took care of Michael, but healing after the fact has never been my strong suit.”

Cas could hear a thunk from the other end, followed by some scrambling and swearing. “Shit, Cas! We’ll be there as soon as possible. Gilda’s grabbing her bag, both of them. We’ll be there soon okay.” And just because she knew him so well, “Make sure you breathe Cas. You’re not alone in this.”

He paused his pacing. “...Thank you.”

“I’m going to hang up now Cas so I can help Gilda get her stuff together, but we’ll be there before you know it.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” she responded.

Cas hung up and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He turned back to Dean. Cas felt useless. Without knowing what all was wrong, trying any sort of healing by doing more harm than good. Heal a bone wrong and he could end up piercing one of Dean’s lungs. Or healing a cut with something inside. He shuddered at the idea of doing more harm. All he could do was make sure Dean was as comfortable as he could be in this situation until help arrived. He pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Even after getting healed Dean would have a bit of a long road in front of him. Cas would have to start him on lighter meals. Cas paused, did familiars have specialized diets? Dean was a cougar, so in familiar form would a meat based diet be better? And then once Dean had the energy to change back to his human form then Cas could start him on light meals. He’d have to see what Gilda knows about familiars once she heals what she can.

The thing is, thinking about Dean’s condition always leads his mind back to the same question, why? Why did his familiar feel so scared when he tried to take his half and complete the bond? Why did his familiar not come to him in the first place? Why, considering that they hadn’t even exchanged words-

Cas could feel his eyes widen as the dots started to connect. They… they had exchanged words. About two months ago. Dean had some to his shop and talked to him, he’d been so nervous and had wanted to say something. But Michal had been messing with his wards and he hadn’t noticed that the man was his familiar. Instead of what Dean had probably been expecting, getting to connect with his witch for the first time, Cas had brushed him off and left him. Dean had tried to come to Cas and he had ignored him. Did Dean think that Castiel was rejecting him? The more he thought about it the more likely it seemed.

A wave of guilt washed over him. This was his fault. Dean had thought that Cas didn’t want him, and he probably didn’t know what to do, so he did what he could and held onto the bond while trying to stay by Cas’ side. All of this suffering over a misunderstanding.

Cas tries to remember what he knows about familiars. He knows that when his magic settled his family had him stay home for about a week, cause if he had a familiar they would’ve started to feel the pull of their bond then. When no familiar came he didn’t worry too much about learning anything beyond the basics.

Cas’ eyes widened and he sat up a bit straighter. That was several years ago… had Dean felt the pull that entire time? If he had, he should’ve come with his family to meet Cas’ and to arrange specifics of their bond. But what if… what if his family hadn’t cared? What if for some reason Dean had to stay? Cas hoped that wasn’t the case. Dean had already suffered so much these last few months, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from doing something he regretted if he found out his familiar had been suffering for years.

He took a breath and let it out slowly. He let Charlie’s words echo in his mind. It wouldn’t do him any good to get worked up. He should prepare things for when Charlie and Gilda get here. He reaches out and gives one of Dean’s front paws a squeeze before getting up to grab some supplies.

By the time Charlie and Gilda arrive he has a small assortment of towels, a bowl of lukewarm water, and the spare sheets at the ready.

Cas can’t help but grimace at the way Charlie flinches and Gilda’s face sets into a focused frown at the sight of Dean. Charlie squeezes his arm as Gilda approaches the bed and opens her bags, one with medical supplies and the other with magic supplies.

“Have you done any sort of treatment?” Gilda asks flatly, she’s in her ‘work’ mode.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not the best at first aid and if I use my magic it’s not exact enough for me to target something specific. I could’ve ended up just hurting him more.” He wishes he could’ve done more than just get Dean somewhere safe.

Gilda simply nods and continues to get out her supplies. She snaps on a pair of gloves before holding her hands over Dean. They glow a faint green. Her lips twitch down further. Cas isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to explain to them how much their support means at this moment.

The glow increases as her hands hover over different areas. “You did a good job getting him up here without making anything worse, but I won’t lie to you it’s pretty bad. He’s dehydrated, and malnourished. He has a few cracked ribs and a minor concussion, nothing I can’t fix but you’re right in saying you probably would’ve made it worse if you had tried. There’s also several cuts, thankfully they’re all pretty surface level.” Cas lets out a sigh of relief. “But he feels just so exhausted. What’s the status of your bond?” The glow is brighter, a telltale sign that she’s healing him now and no longer assessing.

“He’s been holding it up one-sided for about two months.” The silence is audible.

Gilda turns and blinks at him, it’s almost scary how blank her face is. On the other hand, Charlie’s face has drained of all color. Cas may not know the most about familiars, but he does know a one-sided bond hurts the familiar. If their faces are anything to go by, ‘hurt’ doesn’t even begin to cover what his familiar has gone through.

Gilda’s words cut like steel. “He should be dead,” she says bluntly. “It’s a miracle he lasted long enough to complete the bond.”

“It’s not completed.”

Gilda freezes, the glow of her hands blinking out. “What?”

“He won’t let me in. He slammed a sort of door between the bond, he won’t let me take my half.” His voice cracks. “He’s still holding it up and pushing all he has towards me.”

Charlie, who has been staring at him, whips her face towards Dean with a look of awed horror.

“No, absolutely not. We are not going to let your familiar fucking destroy himself before we get a chance to actually meet him. Castiel, get the hell over here.”

Cas barely stops himself from tripping as he rips himself away from Charlie’s hold in his haste to obey. “What do you need me to do?”

She grabs his hand and holds it over Dean. “Getting the bond fixed will do more for him than fixing injuries would. Even if I heal him the bond is still draining everything he has. You said he made a door? Well we’re going to get you a key.” Cas nods along. She looks at him. “I need you to know that this won’t work if he doesn’t want the bond. If he rejects it then game over, all we can do at that point is make him comfortable until it’s done draining him.”

Cas clenches his jaw. “If he accepts?”

“If he accepts then the bond won’t be like a charger anymore with him as the battery. It will be more like a closed circuit or a feedback loop of sorts. You’ll both be getting back what you put in and more.” She squeezes his hand. “Are you ready?”

This is his chance. “Yes.”

“Good, now you know that space where you go when you fix and make your wards? That little space where your mind mingles with your magic?” Her hand, the one clutching his, is starting to glow again.

He nods numbly. “Yes, I do.”

“Okay, I need you to go there, find the door to your bond. I’ll be tagging along in a sense.”

“Have you done this before?” He needed this to work. Dean’s only just come into his life, he doesn’t want to mourn something that could’ve been.

Gilda gulps and shakes her head. “No, but when your sister was a familiar you try to learn everything you can. He’s not the first one to go through this. Most familiars tend to be loyal to a fault.” Cas’ eyes widened. He didn’t even think about what this would do to Gilda, whose sister had died after being poached for a magical boost. The shattered bond had left her on death’s door, and she’d been found a little bit too late.

With that Cas let himself close his eyes and fall back into the warm space that held his magic. The process has only gotten easier since Dean started boosting him. Before he’d have to search the space out, now it felt as easy as breathing.

He searched out their incomplete bond. It took a moment, it almost felt like it was hiding away. He had to search it out by the small trickle of power that Dean was still sending through. Cas reached out with his magic and prodded at the ‘door’, it was still shut up tight.

Cas could feel Gilda’s magic slide up next to his and examine the ‘door’. He could feel her magic running over the seams, looking for any sort of opening for Cas to get through. Eventually it came to stop at the small leak Dean left to funnel power to Cas. It was coming through as a small leaky stream, but it was still coming through. He could feel Gilda’s magic giving a slight pull. He reached out for the spot. It almost felt like Gilda’s magic was propping open the door, just enough for him to reach out for the bond.

He reached and it felt like he was practically tackled by the weight of the bond. It surged over him, completely and utterly overwhelming, but perfect at the same time. It felt like an over excited puppy, one curious but just happy that he’s there.

Cas can do this. Cautiously he offers up his half of his bond. That small connection that was just waiting to be tethered to its other half. Dean’s magic seems to freeze, like while it had been so excited to see him that this was the last thing it had been expecting. Cas pushes it forward a bit more and he can feel Dean's magic cautiously approaching his. It pauses almost as if to ask ‘if he’s sure’, like one more move and he’ll yank his half of the bond back. It stings, but if he’s right about Dean lacking support of any kind then it makes sense for him to be cautious. He just doesn’t want to be burned.

When he doesn’t take it back Dean’s magic latches on, and tightly. He can feel as the threads of the bond slowly wind together, worn, but thrumming with warmth at finally being completed. It didn’t feel like it had the other times Cas had felt it. Instead of the burning flame of everything all at once, it was a pleasant ember that lit him up from the inside out. That feeling of wrong that had been plaguing him for months was finally resolved.

With that Cas let himself come back to his body, now aware of the bond thrumming at the back of his mind. He could feel Dean. He was exhausted and hurt, but something in him had settled as well with the completion of the bond, something deep seated. It no longer felt that the slightest misstep would shatter it.

Cas opened his eyes, fully coming back to himself. Gilda was giving him a soft smile. She slowly let go of his hand and let it fall into Dean’s fur. Despite the fact that it certainly needed to be cleaned it was soft.

“I’ll finish healing him the best I can. He’ll still have quite the recovery time, but the point is that now he will recover. It would’ve been a different story had he not accepted.” The glowing starts up around Gilda’s hand, one of the cuts begins to knit itself back together. “I’m assuming that you don’t know too much about familiars aside from the basics, most don’t. I recommend you prepare for the long hall with bland but filling meals; chicken, rice, things like that.”

Something must’ve shown on his face because Gilda let out a small huff.

“Don’t look so freaked out, I’ll send you a list and a timeline.” She reached her free hand over and took his. “You won’t be doing this alone, Charlie and I are here to help you two.”

He looked at Charlie who nodded. Cas could feel the rest of the tension rolling off his shoulders. Things were bad, yes, but their bond was completed, Dean was getting healed, Gabe was taking care of Michael, and he had Charlie and Gilda by his side. Things would be alright.

~*~

Charlie and Gilda had stuck around for awhile after she had finished healing Dean as much as she could. Cas would’ve felt bad keeping them there, but it looked like they didn’t want to leave him alone either (or at least alone with his unconscious familiar). They ended up staying well into the evening, even making him something to eat so he didn’t have to leave Dean’s side. And he didn’t, at least not until he walked them to the door.

Charlie wrapped him in a tight hug and Gilda gave him a small shoulder nudge.

“Is there anything you need us to get for you?” Charlie asks.

Cas pauses for a moment and pulls himself from the hug. “Actually… I think there might be.”

“Oh?”

“Do you remember the rumors when Dean first came to town, about his car?”

She nods along “Yeah?”

He thinks for a moment. “Since it’s clear he’s been spending quite some time in familiar form he would’ve had to leave it somewhere. And from the rumors we heard, it sounds like he cares about it quite a bit. And if what Kendra said is true then it’s probably somewhere along the road between my house and town.”

“And you want us to bring it back for you?”

“Yes please.”

Gilda spoke up. “Consider it done.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed a bit. “If one of the soccer moms sees it here you’ll probably be the talk of the town for the next month. They’ll all think you were lying when you said you didn’t know Dean.”

“Let them think what they want. My priority right now is Dean’s safety and comfort. And I feel he’ll be more comfortable if his car is here. He seemed wary about approaching me. While I do have an idea of why he was, I don't want to do anything to make him feel trapped when he wakes up; whether in the house or in the bond,” he said shrugging.

“We have you covered Cas,” Charlie assured.

“...Oh! And if you wouldn’t mind putting a sign on the store about being closed until further notice?”

“Gotcha covered, my spare keys to the shop are in the car. We’ll drop by before heading home.”

“And we’ll send you a text after dropping off the car,” Gilda added. “You’ll probably want some alone time with Dean until you two get used to the bond a bit more.”

He nodded, and with a few more ‘thank yous’ they were on their way to track down Dean’s car.

It couldn’t have been even ten minutes later when there was a knock at the front door. It was Gabriel. His posture was relaxed, though his face gave way to worry. Cas stepped aside to let him in.

“Hey, Cassie. How’s your little familiar doing?”

Cas sighed and looked towards the stairs. “He’s doing a lot better thanks to Gilda. But the issue is he was holding together a one-sided bond for over two months.”

Gabe’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“Exactly. His injuries from Michael are mostly healed, but he’s malnourished and exhausted. Gilda is helping me with a nutrition plan to get him back on his feet. But aside from that I’m worried about his mental state. What kind of place was he in before this that he thought holding together a one-sided bond for this long was something that was okay?” Tears pricked at his eyes. Gabe had a way of getting him to bring his walls down, even if they often didn’t see eye to eye.

He put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Whatever he’s been through he has you now to support him. He has Charlie and Gilda too. Not to mention he’ll have his new favorite brother-in-law, me!” Gabe said with a smile.

Cas’ face heated at the words. “While the sentiment is appreciated, I’d prefer to figure it out with Dean about whether or not the bond is romantic before we start planning the big day.”

“Okay, but you find his human form hot right?”

“Gabe!” Cas yelled scandalized. Despite the yelling Cas could feel himself relaxing, Gabe knew how and when to give him a distraction, a break from thinking about everything that would be coming in the next few days.

Gabe smiled before turning a bit more serious. “I handed Michael off to Luc.”

That snapped Cas back to the conversation. Luc was the oldest out of all of them. He was also part of an unofficial counsel created to keep witches in line and keep hunters out of their business.

“Oh,” was all that Cas could manage to say.

Gabe winced. “I know it seems like a lot, but trying to take another witch’s familiar is a big deal. It’s something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place, let alone at the hands of family.”

Cas nodded. At best Michael could be imprisoned, at worst they could seal his magic in addition to another sentence. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He felt a hand nudge his arm. Gabe smiled up at him. “How about you show me this familiar of yours.”

“I… Alright.” Cas led him down the hall to the guest room.

Pushing open the door he took in Dean curled on the bed, it almost felt like something should've changed in the few minutes he was gone. The only thing he noticed was that Dean was looking noticeably better than he had earlier. His fur was noticeably clear of blood (that had taken a while), his breath had evened out and the cuts were healed.

Gabe let Cas enter first and settle in the chair by the bed before entering. A sign of respect, one he was a little surprised to see.

Gabe took the chair text to him, he smiled. “Got yourself a giant kitty huh?”

“I may not know a lot about him, but I have a feeling Dean wouldn’t appreciate you calling him a giant kitty. He’s a cougar,” Cas said, raising an eyebrow. Cas reached out for his paw to give it a little squeeze. He could feel the bond between them give a warm hum. Dean’s face scrunched a little and he curled a bit tighter.

“He’s my little brother’s familiar, he can put up with a few nicknames.”

They sat there for a few moments in silence. Castiel couldn’t remember the last time Gabe had just sat next to him rather than egging him on. It was kind of nice, weird, but nice. Gabe broke it by giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“I think you could use some alone time. I don’t want to cause him to freak out when he wakes up, just in case he’s one of those familiars who gets freaked out by witches who aren’t theirs. So I’ll be staying at that B&B in town for the next couple of days. I expect you’ll actually give me a call this time if you need help, rather than waiting for our brother to try and kill you.” He gave a pointed look.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Okay, Gabriel.”

“Little shit.” He pushed himself out of the chair and stretched, arm almost smacking Cas in the face. “If you don’t call for anything I will be dropping by before I leave.”

Gabe startled back when Cas abruptly stood up and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of Michael for me, and for coming.”

He gave a squeeze. “I’d never leave you hanging. Now I’m going to leave before you make me tear up and I lose all of my dignity. I’ll show myself out.” He got to the bedroom door before turning back. “Also, Cas. I’m really happy for you that your familiar found you, no matter the circumstances.”

“Thanks, Gabe.”

His brother nodded a response and disappeared down the hall.

~*~

After Gabe had left Cas spent the rest of the day and most of the evening at Dean’s side. He only left to get some food and collect the keys to Dean’s car from Charlie and Gilda when they dropped it off. Apparently the keys had been left in the tailpipe, which was… not the best place to say the least.

Cas apparently fell asleep in the chair as he woke up to a flash of confusion through the bond and a crick in his neck. Cas was confused by the confusion. What was going on? He cracked his eyes open. Last thing he remembered was being in the guest room with Dean. Dean… Cas jolted up, to take in a confused Dean, still in his familiar form, looking around the room before his eyes fell on Cas. The confusion was replaced by a sense of trepidation.

Cas couldn’t mess this up, not again. “Hey, glad to see you’re awake. You go by Dean right?” Probably to make sure that he hadn’t been referring to his familiar by an alias this whole time.

The confusion was back, but he did get a small nod from his familiar. Granted it was followed by a small wince.

“You might want to be careful not to move too much. My friend Gilda came over and helped heal you. But you still might be a bit sore, and chances are you’re probably going to be exhausted for the next little while.” Cas needed to reassure his familiar that him being here could last as long as he wanted.

He slowly reached out to lay a hand on one of Dean’s front paws as he had done most of yesterday. There was a wave of relief when Dean didn’t move away, Cas couldn’t tell who it came from.

“We’re going to have to have a conversation here, doesn’t have to be today or even for a while. But once you’re back to your human form I’d like to talk with you about what happened if you’re comfortable.” Cas paused for Dean’s reaction, only to feel Dean look for the door to their bond that was no longer there. Before Dean’s panic could spike, Cas spoke up. “The bond is completed. But before you react please let me fill you in on my side of the story. I really don’t want you to do this alone anymore, I want you here by me if that’s something you also want.”

Dean gave him a skeptical look, or at least as skeptical a look as a cougar could manage. Then he gave a tight nod, Cas interpreted it as ‘get on with it’.

“My wards were being attacked when I first met you. I was distracted and I didn’t realize you were my familiar. I didn’t mean to reject you, and I’m sorry I did.” Cas tried to keep any of his emotions from filtering through, no sense in having his guilt weighing on Dean. Though considering that Dean proceeded to lay his head on Cas’ hand, he wasn’t sure how well he was managing.

They stayed like that while Cas filled Dean in with how everything had happened from his point of view. The confusing boost in power, the sightings of Dean around town, the sightings of a cougar around town, all of which had been driving Cas insane. Dean huffed out something that could probably be considered a laugh at that.

Cas smiled a bit and continued on. The way Michael came back, what he was there for in the first place, finding out he had a familiar, the fear of losing his apparently injured familiar, Dean running from his house, and finally the confrontation with Michael right out front. He also informed him of the fact that Michael had been taken care of by Gabe, who would be wanting to meet him the second he was up for it.

When he was done telling his side of things Cas simply let the air hang between them. If Cas was right about the kind of person Dean was, then finding all this out at once might be a bit overwhelming.

The feeling he got through the bond was once of understanding. Dean carefully took Cas’ sleeve in his jaw and gave a light tug before shuffling a bit to make some room on the bed.

Cas took a moment to understand the gesture before shifting from the chair to the bed. The second Cas had settled against the headboard he found Dean’s head plopped in his lap and getting pushed into his hands.

He found himself chuckling and indulging Dean, not that he minded though as despite probably still needing a wash, Dean’s fur was soft. He carded his hands through it and relaxed into the feeling of contentment. He knew enough about familiars to know that friendly contact was something most, if not all enjoyed and needed.

“Once you’re not so sore you’re getting a bath.” It was his turn to take care of his familiar. And that was starting with Gilda’s nutrition plan and a flea bath, both of which she was bringing by later.

There was a grumble from below him. “You’ve been taking care of me, so it’s my turn to take care of you,” Cas said with a smile.

“And once you have enough energy to change back to your human form I hope you’ll keep letting me take care of you. I want you to stay for as long as you want.” He’d reiterate it as many times as it took for Dean to understand that Cas wouldn’t leave unless Dean wanted him to. He wasn’t going to shut him out again.

He spent the rest of the morning telling Dean about what it was like growing up and about meeting Charlie and Gilda. He’d pause occasionally for Dean to grumble or give a small chuff in response. All the while his hands were carding through Dean’s fur, every once in a while scratching around his ears.

He was just telling Dean about a prank Gilda had pulled on Charlie when he remembered Dean’s car. “Oh!”

Dean looked up at him. “Your car.”

Dean’s eyes widened in realization and there was a low worried sound. Cas thought about how ominous that starter sounded and winced.

Cas ran a hand down his back reassuringly. “Charlie and Gilda found it for you and brought it over. It’s in the driveway.”

The look Dean gave him could only be described as one of adoration. “Whenever your name was brought up around town it usually included a mention of your car. I figured it might be important to you.”

Dean nodded and leaned further into Cas before settling back down.

They stayed that way until there was a light knocking on the door. Cas reached out with his wards and smiled when he felt Gilda and Charlie waiting for him. Though he was brought back to the present when he realized how tense Dean was. Right, while he may be in Cas’ home, this was still somewhere unfamiliar to Dean. He’d been on guard for two plus months, and it wasn’t going to stop right away simply because Cas said there was nothing to worry about.

Cas scratched behind Dean’s ears. “It’s Charlie and Gilda. They’re here to bring by the meal plan. They probably also want to meet you if you’re comfortable.” While he waited for an answer Cas sent a quick text to Charlie just to let her know that he did actually hear the door.

When Dean took a little bit too long to decide, Cas spoke up again. “You don’t have to say yes simply because they’re my friends. If you’d be interested we can arrange a time later for you to meet them. Maybe once you have the energy to change back to your human form?”

Dean seemed to appreciate the idea of actually having warning before meeting Cas’ friends as he relaxed and nodded into Cas’ sleeve. Cas made a mental note to text Gabe and let him know a visit would need to happen later.

“In that case if you’re fine waiting here then I’ll talk to them real quick before coming right back.” At this point he was ready for the way Dean froze at the idea of him leaving, what he wasn’t ready for was the wave of worry and fear that crashed through him. “Woah, it’s okay. Dean, I’ll be right back.”

The whimper that escaped Dean was heartbreaking.

Cas made sure Dean was looking right at him. “Dean, I promise that I won’t leave. I will be coming right back. I just need to get the meal plan from Gilda, and maybe send them out on a grocery run for me. Also, you can keep an eye on me through the bond the whole time.”

Dean looked skeptical.

“-And, the wards wouldn’t have let them this close to the house if they were going to do something.” Dean’s eyes widened, it seemed he’d forgotten about that.

Dean held his gaze, almost searching for something. Apparently he found it because Dean looked away and nodded his head towards the door with a huff.

Cas found himself smiling. “I’ll be right back.” Dean rolled his eyes before tucking his head into his paws.

Cas hurried down the hall, not wanting to keep them waiting, and not wanting to stay away from Dean too long. He practically pulled the door of its hinges trying to open it.

Charlie jumped. “Holy crap, Cas! Where’s the fire?”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to keep Dean waiting too long.”

Gilda nodded and handed over a tan folder while Charlie smiled. “Speaking of the cougar, when do we get to meet him?”

Gilda nodded along. “I was wondering that as well. I want to give him a check-up once he’s up for it.”

Cas takes the folder and flips it open, scanning over some of the recommendations. He has most of it in his back freezer or storage. “He’s not up for meeting anyone at the moment. Hopefully he will be once he has the energy to change back to his human form.”

“That makes sense, he is fairly vulnerable at the moment, even with the claws,” she said.

“He did panic when I mentioned getting up to answer the door, so it’s probably for the best that Dean and I stay home for a while,” Cas conceded.

Charlie frowned. “You sure he’s not up for meeting us?”

Cas sighed. “I’m sure, but in the meanwhile, it would be a big help if you could get the things from the list that I’m missing.”

“Sure, Cas. We got you covered,” Charlie said.

Cas waved them off as they left. When he got back to the guest room he smiled at the way Dean instantly perked up at his arrival. They would be okay. They had some work to do, and some things to talk about once Dean was able, but they’d be alright.

Chapter Four

Dean wasn’t sure what was happening when he had first woken up. He didn’t know where he was, and yet he didn’t feel like he was in danger, if anything he felt… safe? Sure he was in pain, it felt like he’d just put his body through a meat grinder and he could practically hear Bobby chewing him out. This wasn’t Bobby’s house though. He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, in pain, and yet he felt safer than he had in a really long time.

To summarize, Dean was confused. At least until he focused on the blue eyes of his witch. Cas. He had gotten hurt trying to protect Cas. This was Cas’ house and it felt like nothing could go wrong here. At least until it set in that this is his witch… the one who he was avoiding until he could prove himself useful.

The fear set in. Why was he here? He hadn’t proved himself yet, unless his fucking up and passing out managed to take care of the Michael issue.

Then Cas spoke up, and it was nothing like Dean expected. He’d expected ‘try harder’ or ‘you get one more chance’, after all, why else would Cas have helped him? But then Cas just confirmed his name. And Dean was right back where he started, confused.

Castiel had reassured him of all things and filled him in on what he’d missed, and that everything that had happened had really been because of a misunderstanding. And Dean could feel the regret through their now completed bond. And wasn’t that weird; the whole time he’d thought how the bond was the way it was supposed to be. He thought the bond was supposed to be draining, and that it was his fault for not being a good familiar, but what it was now felt so much better. Like Han Solo just saved the day kind of better.

For the first time in a fucking years he felt like things were looking up for him. He had someone who wanted to care for him. Someone who didn’t just want him to be a little soldier, someone who wasn’t stuck with him because John took off for the weekend. And the idea of someone taking care of him, letting him relax, giving him a home; it felt nice. Even if the idea of getting a bath in his familiar form made him want to cringe, he was happy that Cas wanted to do that for him, just to show that he cared.

As much as Dean hates to admit it he wasn’t sure at first if Cas was being honest. Maybe the whole thing was some sort of test, but then he’d started by letting Dean actually pick on whether or not he’d wanted to do something. He didn’t even get upset when Dean hadn’t wanted to meet his friends yet.

Getting used to the change was slow going, but things were starting to feel right.

He’d been staying with Cas for about a month at this point. Castiel had arranged for Charlie to take over the shop for a while while Cas just made stuff at home that Charlie would pick up once a week. Granted Dean did tend to hide in the guest his room when she stopped by.

Even after a month Dean was still in his familiar form. Sure he had to get up his energy to change back, and Cas had been following that meal plan Gilda made for him, but truth is he hadn’t even tried. Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to change back.

Dean knew he tended to screw things up, hell his entire life was a testament to that. But being here with Cas, in his familiar form, it felt like maybe this time he wouldn’t. He knew familiars were tactile, and it was one thing reading it in the book Bobby gave him, but it was another thing to spend a month as an overgrown house cat. Once the soreness faded a bit, and after Cas had forced him to take a flea bath (Dean was aware enough to admit that he had needed it), he’d taken to stretching over Cas every chance he’d gotten. And his witch had seemed more than happy to let him, scratching behind his ears as he practically melted on top of Cas.

Dean found that the itch he’d grown so used to wasn’t there anymore. For the first time since his mom had died he felt comfortable in his skin. Though he knew that at some point he’d need to change back. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Cas hadn’t asked him to change back yet. So he ignored it.

He spent his time watching movies with Cas. Charlie seemed to know that Cas had horrible taste in movies and had dropped off a stack of DVDs when she’d picked up Cas’ charms a few weeks ago. Since then they’d slowly been making their way through them. It was nice.

Dean had a feeling that Cas wasn’t usually used to carrying a conversation, just judging by the way he always seemed a little bit hesitant until he got going. And Dean found himself loving Cas’ dry humor, the way it’d sneak up on him and knock a few chuffs from him. And he fell a little bit in love with the way Cas would smile when he made Dean laugh (or whatever the hell the cougar equivalent was).

Which brought him to his next issue. Dean was falling in love with Cas, and he could tell Cas was falling in love right back. The bond let them know a little too much about each other, and they just pretended to not know how the other was feeling. Most of the time the other’s emotions tended to fall into the background.

He knew Cas loved him… he had reassurance that Cas loved him with the way the little place in the back of his mind that held Cas’ emotions would warm at the sight of him. Cas felt so fond every time Dean rolled his eyes, or every time Cas managed to translate the snark in his body language. And Dean had been shocked at how much he came to care for Castiel, not just as his witch, but as Cas. Cas hummed off-key when he cooked. He liked Dean’s limited commentary when making charms. He’d squish his face into Dean’s fur in thanks for helping with magic. And Dean found himself loving all of it.

Everything was perfect, which is why he couldn’t help but think if him being human was the common factor to his every fuck up. Sam left, Dad didn’t need it, Bobby was stuck taking care of him. He had a place here in familiar form, so what if changing to his human from and answering Cas’ questions ruined that.

Of course he should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to keep his doubt under wraps for long, with the whole feeling the other’s emotions and all. Apparently he focused on the whole fuck up things a little bit too hard one day, cause Cas had paused the book he was reading and turned to Dean.

Cas sounded worried. “Dean?”

Dean looked up from the movie he had been half paying attention to. He looked worried too. Dean tilted his head in question.

“Are you,” Cas seemed to search for the words, “scared of being in your human form?”

Dean’s first thought was to deny it, to try and make Cas think that everything was fine. He didn’t need to give Cas any reason to get rid of him. But… he could feel the worry in the back of the bond. Cas cared about him. Dean could take a chance.

Dean nodded and Cas’ brows furrowed a bit more. But the bond remained the same, only worry, no contempt, no rage.

A look of understanding flashed over Cas’ face before he gave Dean a small smile. “Dean. It’s okay. You being here, this is permanent for as long as you want it. I want you here. Human form or familiar form, I want you here.” He reached out and put his hand on Dean’s paw. “I love having you here. I love taking care of you and being taken care of. And, I love you.”

Dean whined and scooted his way onto Cas’ legs. He knocked the book onto the floor, but they both ignored it in favor of leaning into the hug. Dean would change back eventually, but for now he was happy where he was, and he wasn’t in a rush.

~*~

It took another week before Dean changed back. Dean had woken up before Cas had. Normally Cas would be up before him, cooking something and ready to offer a smile once Dean walked into the room.

But this morning Dean walked into the living room/kitchen to find it empty. The morning sun was just starting to filter in through the windows and outside it was a little foggy. And he didn’t know what it was, but he felt ready.

He trotted his way to the bathroom and propped his paws on the ledge of the sink and looked into the mirror. It started with the cracking of bones as everything started to shift again. It… it hurt, but it was manageable. Dean watched as his ears shifted and lost their feline look, his fur receded and left behind shaggy hair and a scruffy face. He thanked whatever familiar magic let him keep his clothes, even as he winced at the torn and dirty state of them. He nodded to himself, they were definitely going in the garbage the first chance he got. At least the rest of him was clean.

He must’ve been staring at himself for a while because when he actually tuned back into… everything else, he could hear Cas shuffling around the kitchen. It was weird having his hearing back to its usual slightly better than human hearing. And the way he couldn’t smell everything anymore threw him off as well, but he could smell bacon and eggs.

Dean looked at himself and took a deep breath before letting it out. He could do this. He pushed down his nerves and made for the door, forgetting that he hadn’t used his legs in sometime. Well, he hadn’t used only two legs in sometime.

There was a small crash as he gripped the counter and knocked off the soap. Dean winced at the way the sound seemed to echo in the small space.

“Dean?” Cas called from the kitchen.

It was now or never. Dean held to the trim and made his way towards the kitchen.

His lack of response seemed to worry Cas. “Are you okay?” The voice was a little more urgent, but Dean wasn’t sure if he could use his voice without it sounding like he swallowed a frog.

Dean rounded the corner and almost ran face first into Cas who had probably been coming to check on him. Cas jolted back and stared at him with wide eyes.

Dean couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding somehow. He grimaced and gave a small wave. Cas took him in for another minute, a soft smile stretched across his face and Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“How about you go get some clean clothes and I’ll finish breakfast?” Cas gestured towards Dean’s room. “There should be some in the dresser. I’m not sure if I got your size right though, I had to guess and have Charlie pick them up.”

Dean nodded and waited for Cas to head back to the kitchen before heading to his room. Cas had guessed pretty good about his size. Everything would’ve fit just fine if he was his usual weight, and wasn’t that weird? Knowing how much he had lost in such a short time, at least he knew that he was working on getting back to a point that could be considered healthy.

He looked in the mirror. The shirt was a plain forest green, and Dean had found some sweats to go with them. They were both soft and felt new, but for some reason knowing Cas had gone out of his way to get Dean something new made him want to smile. Growing up it had been mostly thrifting or snagging things from donation piles when John left on a hunt for a bit too long. Sammy had always grown out of things a bit too fast.

Dean gave his hair a tug and grimaced. He will be getting a haircut the first chance he gets. He glances down at the scruff on his chin. Does Cas have a spare razor?

In the kitchen Cas had two plates set out at the counter. He had already started in on his. Dean smiled at the glass of water next to him.

He downed half the glass and sat down on the stool next to Cas’. “M-mornin’, Cas,” he croaked. Dean winced and took another sip.

Cas was evidently ignoring his slip up. “Good morning, Dean.”

They ate in silence. It might not have been awkward per say, but there was a tension in the air. Cas wanted him to talk about his point of view, but where was he supposed to start? It would probably need to be the first time he fucked up as a familiar, right? Cas needed to know what he was getting into now that Dean couldn’t fool himself that he was just Cas’ familiar. He was gonna have to start somewhere.

“Guess you’ll have to introduce me to Charlie and Gilda now. No reason to keep ‘em waitin’ any longer than they have been,” Dean said. He had to start somewhere, and maybe this was a good starting point.

Warmth flooded the back of his mind. “I would like that very much. I’m sure Gilda and Charlie would as well. They’ve been texting me for non-stop updates. Maybe we could have dinner later this week?”

Dean took another bite of his food. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Gilda will probably also want to make a point of giving you a check-up when she’s here.”

“She’s a healer right?” A chill went down his spine at the thought of another witch having been that close to him when he was unconscious. But Cas had said she’d helped with the bond and with healing him. He could trust Cas’ judgment.

“Yes. She is fairly skilled with healing magic, but she tends to use her skills more so on the animals at her clinic rather than people,” Cas said.

Dean hummed in acknowledgement and finished his plate. He walked it to the sink, moving slowly on unsteady legs. It would take a bit to get used to being on two legs again.

Cas came up next to him and grabbed the sponge from the edge of the sink. He scrubbed his plate before passing it to Dean. “I wash, you dry?”

“Sure thing, Cas,” he said, taking the plate and grabbing a towel from the cupboard. He was happy that he’d been paying attention to where Cas kept everything.

There wasn’t much, finishing quickly they made their way to the living room. Cas sat down on his usual seat and patted the spot next to him, the spot that had become Dean’s within the first week of him being here.

He sat down, pausing only a moment before leaning into Cas’ side. If it was fine in his familiar form then it had to be fine in this form, right? His moment of courage was rewarded with Cas taking his hand and carefully massaging the tension out of it.

“I’m not really sure where to start,” he confessed.

Cas hummed. “That’s okay. Why don’t you just pick a point, we can backtrack if needed.”

Dean thought for a moment, trying to get a grasp on his words. “I don’t know how to be a familiar. Never have, but I’ve been trying to figure it out from bits and pieces I find here and there.” He paused. “Being here helps. It’s like this is the first time part of me isn’t demanding something it doesn’t know how to get.”

Cas looked a bit confused. “Can you elaborate? Because from where I’m sitting you seem like you’re a pretty good familiar to me. Granted I’m a bit new at this myself.”

“All started when I was ‘bout four and turned out to be a familiar. Parents nearly pissed themselves waking up to a tiny cougar in their bed,” he said with a huff.

“Are neither of your parents familiars?” Cas asked.

“Nah, mom was a witch, but gave it all up when she met dad. I’m guessing her mom or dad was probably one, don’t know for sure though. And dad is plain ol’ human.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, your mom was a witch?” Cas’ grip tightened a little, but the massaging never stopped.

“Yeah. Another witch killed her trying to get at me. Dad packed me and Sammy up, started hunting.”

It was obvious Cas was ignoring the hunter comment, probably packing it away for later. “Sammy?”

That got Dean to smile. “Yeah, Sammy, Sam. He’s my little brother. Was about six months old when mom died. I love him, it was my job to watch him and help John out on hunts. That’s why it took me so long to find you, I ignored the tug ‘cause I had to watch Sammy. Sorry,” Dean said, tightening in on himself a bit.

Cas searched out his eyes. “Dean, you don’t have to apologize. You were looking out for your family, that’s something you should be proud of. And I’ll be honest, none of this is painting you as a ‘bad familiar’.”

“I didn’t want to scare Sammy or get him hurt. Being a familiar was dangerous, so I wasn’t one. I didn’t change, didn’t do anything a familiar would want or need to do. I think Bobby knew though, he let me have his book.”

Cas paused for a moment. “I’m sorry you went through that. I can’t imagine how hard it was to ignore a part of yourself for so long. But none of that makes you a bad familiar.” He gave Dean a moment to let that sink in.

Dean leaned a bit more into him. It was nice to hear that Cas didn’t think he was a bad familiar, even after learning that Dean barely knew how to be what he was. A small rumble left his chest, it took a moment for him to recognize it as a purr, but when he did it cut off and he jolted up. Dean hadn’t realized he could do that in human form.

Cas’ expression let Dean know that he had certainly heard it, but had no plans on calling him on it. Dean let out a small sigh of relief. Last thing he needed right now was to realize any other freakin’ weird things being a familiar allowed him to do.

“So who’s Bobby?” Cas asked after a moment.

“He used to be a friend of John’s. He’s also a hunter. Dad would sometimes leave us there when a hunt was too risky. Bobby watched us. It… it was nice. One time when I was supposed to practice with the shotgun Bobby took me to the park instead. Played catch with me. Gonna be honest, he’s more of a dad to me than John ever was. On time he even caught me looking at his book on familiars. I think he knew, ya’know? He never said anything though.” Dean laughed a bit, he’d been so sure Bobby hadn’t known, but looking back it was obvious. “He answered my questions, gave me a hug. It helped the itch go away a bit. It was really nice.”

“He sounds like a nice man.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that, he’d cuff you over the head,” Dean said.

Cas looked in thought. “If you ever want to have him over, let me know.”

“But… he’s a hunter?” Why would Cas willingly let Dean bring a hunter into his home? He’d made peace that when he left John it would mean leaving everything behind, including Bobby.

“And it sounds like you were as well. But here you are, cuddling me on the couch.” Dean could feel his face redden. “Plus, he’s your family.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, you and him are pretty much all that’s left of it after Sam left for college. That’s why I came to find you. With Sam leaving my job was done. I… I could do what I wanted.”

It took Cas a moment to take that all in. “You have my family now too, and I don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me, let alone Charlie and Gilda anytime soon. And just wait until you meet my brother Gabriel, he will get under your skin and never leave.” He put his free arm around Dean’s shoulder. “I’m glad that coming here was something you wanted. I’m happy to have you here,” Cas said, giving a smile that made Dean want to melt.

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

They both seemed to need a break before starting up again. Dean needed to gather his thoughts, and Cas needed to process everything he had learned about Dean. Neither of them moved though, instead choosing to flick on the tv and let the crappy day time ads give them some background noise.

Dean had no idea how long it had been, but eventually he reached over and turned off the tv. It had been playing an ad about some sort of bakeware that would definitely leave paint chips in the food.

Cas turned and gave Dean his full attention, and wasn’t that something he’d need to get used to.

“After I left I used the book Bobby gave me to practice learning how to change into my familiar form. Did it whenever I’d stop at a motel for some shut eye. It hurt a lot at first, but I got the hang of it after a while. That’s why I said I’m kind of a shitty familiar. Didn’t even know how to change forms until a few months ago.” Dean smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t really too big a deal now that he knew Cas wanted him here and thought he was a good familiar.

Cas gave him an unamused look. “Dean, you weren’t allowed to change forms for years. And when you could you managed to teach yourself and get a handle on it in the time it took you to get here.”

“When you put it like that…”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Tell me what happened after you got to town. I want to know what happened from your perspective.”

And Dean did. He told Cas about staying with the Burgton’s at their inn, and how he fixed up the truck so he could stay a bit longer. How it had hurt when he met Cas because he thought he’d been rejected. Dean talked about wanting to prove that he could be useful and refusing to let go of the bond. He talked about how he tried to watch out for Cas, especially once Michael came to town, even though he didn’t like other witches. And he ended with waking up in the guest room and learning about what a bond was actually supposed to feel like.

After he finished Cas had reassured him that he wasn’t there to be used. He was there because he wanted to be. Cas was there because he wanted to be. And they were there together because for some reason some sort of fucked up version of fate had decided that they were partners, in life and beyond; even if they misunderstood things at first. And they had wanted it.

Cas then made them lunch and the rest of the day was spent watching crappy soap operas on tv. Dean kept trying to convince Cas he’d seen them before by making up increasingly absurd plot points. He hadn’t been buying it in the slightest until one of the characters stabbed the other with the baby’s spoon. And despite saying it Dean had certainly not seen it coming. Dean had schooled his face in time though for Cas to no longer be sure if he was fucking with him or not. It was a good way to spend the day.

~*~

Tonight Dean was meeting Charlie and Gilda. It was a few days after Dean had managed to change back and he was nervous. What if they didn’t like him? He knew now that Cas wasn’t just gonna drop him. But, but what if he did? Cas considered Charlie and Gilda family, Dean had to make a good impression, which is why he was fiddling with his hair in front of the mirror.

Cas had ended up having an extra razor, letting Dean take care of the uneven scruff on his face, but Cas took him to town for his hair. Somehow Dean had felt like a guard dog watching to make sure no one was gonna try anything funny on Cas, but he’d also felt a bit like Cas’ arm candy with the way half the town’s women had gawked at them arm in arm.

When he’d asked why they’d all been staring, Cas had mumbled something about ‘the ‘TIO’ needing to mind their own business’. Not exactly an answer, but he’d figure it out later.

The haircut itself had been fine. A bit longer than he was used to, but John wasn’t in charge of his life anymore, and he had wanted to try somethin’ a bit different. He thought it was fine, Cas had said it made him look dashing, and then he had pressed a kiss to the side of Dean’s head. That had been another recent development, but not one that Dean was going to complain about. Cas was his, and Dean was Cas’. This felt right (didn’t mean Dean hadn’t lit up like a Christmas tree though).

“Dean, you look great. Come help me set the table,” Cas called from the kitchen.

Dean adjusted the flannel one last time and went to meet Cas. He was stirring something in a pot, it was like he was practically asking for Dean to slide his arms around him, so he did. Hooking his chin over Cas’ shoulder he looked at what Cas was making.

“Potato soup?”

Cas leaned his head into Dean’s. “Yup, now get out the bowls and set the placemats. And don’t forget the salad in the fridge.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Dean said, not moving from his spot wrapped around Cas.

Cas let him have it for a moment before nudging him off. “Get to it, or you may find that the pie in the fridge disappears.”

He laughs. “Now that’s just cold, blackmailing your own familiar.”

“I would never, some circumstances are out of my control,” Cas said.

Dean pulled the place mats out of the drawer. “Like pie mysteriously vanishing from the fridge in order to punish your familiar?”

“Exactly, now get to it,” he deadpanned.

So Dean did. He could feel himself smiling at the ridiculous placemats. It would be one thing if Cas was having him set out normal decorations, but these had tiny potion bottles all over them.

“Where did you even get these?” he asked when he went back over to grab the silverware.

“A gag housewarming gift from Gabe.”

“Ah, the brother who you’ve managed to save me from meeting so far?”

Cas chuckled. “Trust me, when you do eventually meet him you’ll thank me. He’s a lot, but he’s family.”

“If I survive meeting Charlie and Gilda then I’m sure I’ll survive meeting your brother.”

Cas gave him a look. “If you think meeting my brother is a better option than meeting Charlie and Gilda then I think I’ve really miscommunicated the type of people they are.”

Dean thought about it for a moment. “Nah, you’ve made them sound great. They rescued Baby for me after all. Jus’ wanna make a good impression.”

Cas’ face softened. “Trust me, they’ll love you. I have a feeling that once you get to know Charlie you’ll end up stealing my title as her best friend.”

“If you say so.” He shrugged.

As Dean laid out the silverware there was a knock on the door. Cas turned off the burner and headed for the door. “That should be them, I’ll get it.”

He took a deep breath and tried to remind himself of why he was doing this. These weren’t just other witches, they were Cas’ best friends and his family. It would be fine. He’d introduce himself and get to know them over dinner.

Dean could hear Cas greeting them at the door moments before a shorter woman rounded the corner. She had red hair and a very very excited smile. It looked like she was barely holding herself back from lunging at Dean for a hug. What was he supposed to do with that?

“Huh, so you’re Dean?” The way she asked it made it sound like a genuine question. Who else would randomly be in Cas’ house?

He rubbed his arm. “Yes… I’m Dean Winchester. Uh, Cas’ familiar.”

She nodded. “Gonna be honest, I thought you’d look different. Being a mountain lion and all, I was expecting more of a wild hermit kind of look.”

“Shoulda seen me before I shaved and Cas took me to the barber,” he said, feeling the now short and clean stubble along his face.

She snorted. “Did Cas get a picture?”

Dean thought back to it, he couldn’t remember if Cas had or not. “Not sure.”

“Bummer, I’ll just swipe his phone later and check,” she said with a shrug.

They stood there for a moment. He could still hear Cas talking at the door, and the bond felt calm. “So, are you Charlie or Gilda?” He thinks this was the other witch who worked at the shop. Which would make this Charlie?

She froze. “Crap, did I forget to introduce myself?” Dean nodded. “Here I am interrogating you and I haven’t even introduced myself.”

She walked forward and stuck out her hand. Dean had to stop himself from flinching at the aura of magic that surrounded it. This was Cas’ friend, not someone who wanted him as a glorified battery.

“Charlie Bradbury at your service.” He was right.

Dean hesitated before taking her hand and shaking it. “Nice to meetcha.”

“Now, I think we can skip the shovel talk given that you were looking out for Cas to the point that you ran yourself dry.” Charlie gave him a pointed look.

Dean winced. “Yeah, don’t plan on breakin’ his heart anytime soon.”

She nodded. “Just lookout for yourself too. I don’t want to see Cas that scared ever again.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, pulling back his hand to rub the back of his neck.

“That’s all I can ask.” She pulled out a chair and flopped down at the dining table. “Now, onto the more important stuff. How do you feel about Star Wars ?”

She didn’t even have a chance to blink before Dean was in the chair across from her ready to debate the watch order for the movies.

That was where Cas and Gilda found them a few minutes later. They both rolled their eyes and ignored them, going ahead and finishing setting the table. Gilda grabbed the salad and Cas brought over the soup. They eventually made them stop so that Charlie and Dean could actually dish up their food, and give Cas and Gilda a chance to talk.

The dinner was nice. It sort of felt like all of Dean’s worrying about meeting other witches was kind of stupid. Charlie and him already had plans to watch the Star Wars movies in release order, then again in timeline order. And Gilda successfully bullied him into agreeing for a check-up in his familiar form in a few days.

After she heard about how long he’d ignored his familiar side she wanted to do another check to make sure nothing was wrong. Meaning she wanted to make sure he hadn’t fucked up his bones by changing when he wasn’t used to it. She also suggested he make sure he shifts forms at least semi regularly, and he had to agree with her. Dean hadn’t shifted back to his familiar form since he’d managed to get out of it; he was already starting to feel that itch under his skin, though it was basically unnoticeable when compared to what he’d felt growing up.

Though one look at Cas’ worried face and he found himself nodding along with everything Gilda was recommending. She also said she’d bring by a couple of the books she had on familiars.

For the first time in his life Dean was sitting and having dinner with people who asked him about himself. It didn’t matter to them how well he could shoot, they wanted to know what he liked to do in his free time. They wanted to know if he was gonna help Cas with the shop, or if there was a different kind of job he was interested in after recovering. They wanted to know about Dean. He wasn’t sure if he stopped smiling at all during the dinner.

At one point he could barely stop laughing when he heard about all the rumors flying around town after someone spotted his car here. Apparently they thought he and Cas were being reunited after a torrid teenage romance that ended when one of them moved away. Or his personal favorite: the one where Dean had apparently found something of Cas’ at one point and tracked him down to return it, only for them to fall madly in love. Charlie informed them that the ‘TIO’ were currently starting a town wide betting pool on which of the theories were correct.

Dean did end up getting a slice (two slices) of the pie. And he found himself walking Charlie and Gilda to the door with Cas even though he was starting to feel a bit tired. He was still working on getting his energy levels back up to where they used to be. He was sleeping half the day away, it was starting to get better, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going back to his four hours if Cas had anything to say about it. Joke’s on Cas though, if he was gonna make sure Dean got sleep, then Dean was gonna make sure Cas got sleep.

“I think I might steal the title of Charlie’s best friend from you,” he said, punctuating it with a yawn.

Cas nudged him. “Told you. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Cas pulled him lightly towards the hall.

Dean paused and Cas looked at him. “Cas?” “Hmm?” Cas gave him his full attention. “Gilda said I should try changing into my familiar form again. So, uh. Maybe I could sleep in my familiar form.” He could feel his face heating. “‘S more comfortable anyway,” he mumbled.

Cas tilted his head to the side. “Okay? I’m not sure why you need my permission to do that.” He paused for a moment. “Could you explain?” And Dean loved that Cas was asking that. He’d taken to doing it whenever he didn’t quite get why Dean did something, they didn’t want any more misunderstandings.

“I was thinkin’, maybe I could join you in your bed if you were fine with it?” Dean felt a little stupid asking, but Cas had told him to ask for what he wanted, and he was trying.

“Oh, okay. I’m fine with that.” Cas took his hand and squeezed it.

Dean squeezed back. “Really?”

“Yeah. You go ahead and get ready for bed, I’ll meet you up there. I just want to clean up here first.” Dean nodded and hurried to ‘his’ bathroom. He wasn’t sure he’d ever brushed his teeth so fast.

He took the stairs two at a time to get to Cas’ room. He focused on the bond, letting it wash over him, and the next time he opened his eyes he was on all fours. Dean didn’t waste any time hopping up on Cas’ bed and making himself at home. The comforter was soft, and the whole thing smelled lightly of Cas’ shampoo.

And when Cas joined him later there wasn’t any judgment for Dean wanting to be there. Cas simply let out a small laugh as Dean nosed his way into Cas’ neck and made himself comfortable.

He had a long way to go, but for now Dean was more than happy to spend his recovery at Cas’ side.

~*~

After about another month of following the meal plan, getting cleared by Gilda, and getting to know Charlie, Dean had felt ready to leave the house for longer than it took to get his haircut. He started by helping out Cas around the shop. Dean would check out customers, ignore the gossip about him and Cas, and answer the phone. And on the weekends he’d help Cas make his various charms. Most of them were small, but occasionally he’d get a special order for someone who was being haunted, and with the boost Dean helped to give him Cas was now able to do something about those calls.

It had been a slow day in the shop when Dean thought about it. Matthew had dropped some sweets by earlier for him and Cas. Cas was munching on one and helping someone in the front and Dean was reading through a book in the back. It was one of the ones Gilda had lent him, it was covering the specifics on bonds between witches and familiars, what they are, and what they can do. It was a lot more than was in the book from Bobby. The one he’d practically read religiously growing up, it only covered a basic overview of everything.

And that was when he thought about it: Bobby, and Cas’ offer. He was pretty sure that Bobby had known he was a familiar. He’d always made a point to be a bit more tactile with him whenever he and Sammy were staying there. And… Bobby was the closest thing he had to a father. John had lost that title a long time ago.

Dean slipped a piece of scrap paper between the pages and closed the book. He dug out the newer phone Charlie had practically forced him to take. He’d put Bobby’s number in it before ditching his burner. He opened up the contacts, something warm settled in his chest at the sight of so many contacts (not many, but more than just John and Bobby).

He glanced at Cas. His back was turned, he was still helping the customer. Dean selected the contact and put the phone to his ear.

It almost rang through. “Bobby Singer, who’s this?” Quick and to the point.

He almost didn’t respond. “Uh, hiya, Bobby. It’s Dean.”

There was silence on the other end. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad thing. “Fuckin’ hell kid. Your Daddy came looking for you, said you’d up and left. When I couldn’t reach you I didn’t know what happened,” Bobby said. He sounded relieved?

“Sorry, Bobby. After Sammy left there wasn’t really a reason for me to stick around. So I… uh,” he wasn’t sure how to continue.

Bobby continued for him. “You went to find your witch?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah I did. Guess that confirms whether you knew I was a familiar or not.”

“Idjit, was I not supposed to know?”

“Da- John said I couldn’t tell ya. Ya’know, you being a hunter and all.” Dean tried to focus on the view of Cas in front of him as he fidgeted with the front of his jacket.

Bobby huffed. “Course he told you that. Boy, John told me that you were a familiar, told me not to bring it up. Figured you didn’t like it after what happened to your mom, so I never mentioned it. I jus’ tried to help where I could.”

Cas shot a look his way, Dean waved him off. He probably let something through the bond. They were still learning how it worked. “Just when I thought I knew all the ways he messed me up.”

“Dean.” That one word said it all.

“Yeah, Bobby. I know,” he responded.

“...Tell me about this witch of yours, they good to you?” Leave it to Bobby to know how to change the subject.

“Yeah, he is. Cas is the best. Runs a novelty magic shop, mostly sells charms and stuff.” Cas finished with the customer and turned to give him a smile. Dean gave him one back.

Bobby laughed. “Leave it to you to get a witch that makes a livin’ messin’ with people.”

“I mean, most of the stuff actually does somethin’, jus’ not enough to be too noticeable.”

“Smart, playin’ it safe,” Bobby said with a hum of approval.

“So, whaddya think ‘bout coming over here for a visit.”

He could practically hear Bobby’s smirk. “Want my approval for your witch?”

“Nah, I already know he’s great. Jus’ want him to get a chance to meet my family.” Cas, who was close enough now to hear what he said, gave him another smile.

“Dammit, Dean. Can’t drop that on me like that,” Bobby said. And it could just be interference on the phone, but it sort of sounded like Bobby might be tearing up.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout.”

Cas picked up his hand and started to massage it. That seemed to be his thing for making sure Dean was doing alright.

“Idjit, ‘course I’ll come. You talk with your witch and let me know when I can come. Give him a heads up though, he’s gettin’ the talk."

“Yeah, I’ll talk with Cas about it. Call you soon Bobby.”

“Talk to ya soon, kiddo.” And before Dean could respond to that Bobby hung up.

“Bastard hung up on me.” Cas huffed a laugh.

“Was that Bobby?” he asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, he’s interested in coming over. Gonna give you the shovel talk though.”

“I think I can handle it,” Cas said.

Dean pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure you can.”

The front door to the shop jingled and Dean reluctantly let Cas pull away. “I’ll handle that, you can keep reading.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean watched as Cas walked to the front. And he smiled at the way his face flattened out when he realized the customer was a ‘TIO’ member fishing for gossip.

Things were good. Things were good and Dean was more than happy to enjoy the place he’d found himself. He had friends (well Charlie who he’d stolen from Cas, and the Burgtons), he had family, and he had Cas. And for the first time in his life, he had the option to live a life that he chose. So yeah, he was gonna enjoy it.

#supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #fanfic #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel fic #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 4 years ago

Text

A little bit more

This is just a little holiday gift for @reddie-fangirl24 who is a very rad individual who’s writing I always enjoy.

Ao3 Word Count: 1015

Richie dramatically pulls the door open, stepping aside to make a show of letting Eddie be the first to walk in. They were just getting back from their first annual losers holiday party, hosted at Bill’s this year.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he walked in. “Thanks Rich, how chivalrous of you.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Well, I wouldn’t be a very good fiancé if I didn’t treat you with the utmost respect, now would I?”

“Well if you put it like that.” Eddie hid his playful smile as he made an even more over the top show of taking the gift bags out of his arms and setting them down on the table for him. “Does that live up to your standards?” he said, hands resting on his hips.

“You’re ridiculous and I love you.” Richie would never get tired of the way Eddie’s face melted into one of pure joy when he said things like that. Honestly he was just amazed and constantly thankful that he could, they had been through so much to get to this point where they could love one another without conflict.

“I love you too, now get over here you overgrown puppy.” He didn’t have to ask twice, Richie gladly walked right into his open arms. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Eddie. May we have many more days like this in our future.”

He felt Eddie freeze for a moment. “Oh, I almost forgot. Today’s not quite over yet.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, why do you think you woke up late this morning? I set back your alarm so I’d have time to set up your present before we left.” Eddie had the audacity to grin up at him.

“Are you kidding me!? I had to scramble for the shower and I barely got the chance to eat breakfast, and you’re telling me you planned this? I had a bet with Stan that Mike would be the last one there. Seriously, Eddie, you owe me fifty bucks.” He tried to give him a serious glare.

Eddie stifled a snort. “Stan may have helped me pick out the present, that may be why he bet on us being last.”

“Babe, babe, babe, are you kidding me? You plotted against me… with Stan!?”

“Only a little bit of plotting, and besides, it was for a present.”

“Oh well, by all means, make it up to me and show me this present that’s worth losing a bet to Stan for. Seriously I was winning, we were like twenty-eight to twenty-nine.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and freed himself from Richie’s arms, pulling him towards the back door.

“Outside? Did you finally get me that giant middle finger statue I was wanting? The neighbors are horrible and they need to know it.”

He gave a tug, causing Richie to stumble slightly. “No, I did not. And shut up, Bill and Janice are nice; you’re just mad they don’t like your jokes.”

“Anyone who doesn’t like my jokes are horrible in my book.”

“Oh so I’m horrible now?”

“Nope, you get the fiancé pass.”

“I suppose that works. Okay, cover your eyes,” he said, as he slid open the back door.

“Fine, they’re covered.”

“Good, now don’t fall, the steps are right in front of you.”

Richie carefully maneuvered his way down the steps. “Well now I feel like you’re trying to hurt me. Is my present a trip to the ER?”

“Shut up and stay right there,” he said, letting go of Richie’s arm.

Richie did as he was told. He heard Eddie shuffle across the lawn and a small click before their arms were looped once again.

“Okay, now open.”

He opened his eyes. Lights were strung throughout the backyard, making it seem almost magical despite the lack of snow. The various trails of lights all led to one place though, the two trees in the back of the yard. Between the two trees there was a bright red hammock that hadn’t been there the day before.

He could feel the tears beginning to pool at the corner of his eyes. “Eds, this is literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done in the history of ever,” he said, looking at Eddie who was beaming back at him.

“I know, now come on, I made sure to get one that would hold the two of us.” Once again Richie was being led.

“You hoping for some late night Christmas cuddling?”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for, now get in. I don’t trust you not to elbow me in the face.

Richie gladly let Eddie push his towards the hammock. “Come on Eds, that was one time.” He swung himself in and got comfortable.

“One time and a black eye was more than enough for me, scoot over.”

He didn’t even have to scoot, the hammock was certainly big enough for two people and he was more than happy to let Eddie move him to where he wanted. He ended up curled into Richie’s chest, his arm providing a convenient pillow. Richie used his free hand to cup both of Eddie’s and bring them to his lips. He placed a few small kisses and smiled at the way Eddie’s eyes seemed to light up.

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hey, Richie.”

“Thanks for this.”

There were a few stray tears in Eddie’s eyes, Richie carefully wiped them away. “I was just thinking of how lucky we were to have this, have us. It made me think back to when we were kids, how one of the things that was ours was the hammock. We all may have said it was for all us losers, but it was really ours. I thought it would be nice to get you that.” It was Eddie’s turn to wipe Richie's eyes.

“It’s perfect. I’m so lucky I got the chance to have you again. You’ve done nothing but make my life better since you came back into it.”

Eddie smiled. “I can say the same thing about you.”

He pulled him closer. “Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

“Merry Christmas Richie.”

#reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fic #reddie fanfiction #fic #My fic #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 3 years ago

Text

SCREAM

@transnaturalzine IT CAME!!!!! I love it!!!!!!

#very good online purchase #spn #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 3 years ago

Text

I got my @destielzine and I absolutely love it. Best way to end the day

#spn #very good online purchase #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

Reddie Week Day 2- First date

Here’s my work for day 2, please enjoy

@dibujos-de-la-orilla Ao3

Richie had no fucking clue how he ended up in this scenario. Eddie had mentioned how the only time he ever ate out was at one of the losers houses. So like an idiot Richie had offered to take him out to get dinner at the local diner, on a fucking Friday night like he was some sort of football jock with a cheerleader girlfriend, but for some reason God had smiled upon him and Eddie had agreed. After that he had walked him home and his last words before Eddie walked into his house may or may not have been ‘looking forward to our date’. When he had shut the door Richie laughed to himself at the joke, it was a joke right?

Now standing outside Eddie's front door he wasn’t so sure that was the case. After a full day of playing off the joke while at school, Richie had driven his beaten truck over to Eddie’s house to pick him up at 5:55 exactly, five minutes early. When the door had opened Eddie stood there smiling for a moment looking like a dream. His hair was neat and tidy like always, but he wore a baby blue button down and wrinkle-free jeans. He was gorgeous. Richie on the other hand was wearing a faded band t he had chucked on over a pair of ripped jeans, not to mention his curls were all over the place.

“You’re actually early for once, ready to go?” Eddie asked as he stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him.

Richie quickly shut his dropped jaw and gulped. “Yea Eds, got the truck all nice and warmed up for ya.” Richie turned and began making his way to the truck, not able to look at Eddie for another second for fear he might die on the spot. He quickly got into the truck and slammed his door shut, trying to use the few seconds before Eddie got in to breathe and sort out his thoughts.

Even after Eddie got in the vehicle remained silent all the way to the diner, Richie couldn’t tell whether the silence was awkward or comfortable, but either way it stayed until he parked the truck and went around to open the door for Eddie.

“After you my liege,” Richie said, bowing down and moving out of the way to let him get out.

“Why thank you my good sir, shall thou escort me into this… fine establishment?” Eddie joked before holding out his elbow for Richie to take, and he would take what he could get.

The diner itself wasn’t anything impressive. It was one of those tacky 50’s and 60’s style diners with linoleum checkered floors, big booths, those spinning stools lining the bar, and a jukebox in the corner. But nonetheless being in there with Eddie felt special as he led him elbow in elbow to a large booth in the back corner, away from the other customers scattered throughout the rest of the diner. When they sat down opposite from one another Richie couldn’t help but think how close this was to a real date.

Richie reached to the end of the table and grabbed two menus from the stack, handing one to Eddie before he popped his open. “Get whatever you’d like Eds, this ones on me,” he said as casually as possible.

“Thanks Rich,” he responded before turning his face down to scour the menu. After a few minutes a waitress walked over, a little pad of paper in one hand and a pen in the other.

“Hi, can I get you two anything to drink tonight?” she asked in a painfully obvious customer service voice, Richie almost had to stop himself from wincing.

“Milady, i’ll have one of your finest root beers, Eds?” he responded before turning to Eddie.

“Ummm I think i’ll just have water, thanks.”

“One rootbeer, and one water coming right up,” she repeated back before walking towards the kitchen.

Richie stared at Eddie until he looked up from the menu. “What?” he asked.

“Water Eds, really? I’m paying so you could get anything you wanted, and you picked plain ol’ water?” Richie teased.

“Soda has a lot of sugar, and cavities are no joke dipshit. Your dad’s a fucking dentist for crying out loud, you’d think he’s forbid you from soda and all the candy you stuff down your face hole,” he ranted. All Richie could do was smile and rest his face in his hand as Eddie went off. Would a real date be like this?

“Well Eds, you see, some people like to live a little and actually have a drink that tastes good,” he responded, a dopey grin still plastered on his face.

“Water tastes good!” People started to glance over at them.

“What the fuck? Water doesn’t have a fucking taste!”

“Yes it fucking does!” he responded.

“Oh yea, then what does it taste like?” Check fucking mate.

Eddie stopped his rant and looked at Richie, clearly trying to think of what to say next. “I don’t fucking know, water tastes like fucking water!”

“That’s because water doesn’t taste like anything, it’s like if your mom’s bland kinks were a drink,” he said with a smirk.

“Beep fucking beep dickhead, god i’m never going to be able to drink water again with out thinking of that, what the hell!” he practically yelled.

Of course this is when the waitress decided to come back with their drinks. “I’m going to need you two to keep it down a little bit, there’s a family here with the little kids, and if you can’t keep it quiet i’ll have to ask you to leave,” she said as she set down their drinks.

“Sorry,” Eddie said in a quiet voice as he tried to sink back into the seat, a blush rising on his face.

“It’s alright. Have you two decided on what you’re getting?” she asked, pad ready.

“Yeah, can I just get a plain cheeseburger with a side of fries? Please,” he asked. The waitress nodded a quick response before turning to face Richie.

“I’ll have your bacon burger with everything on it, and a side of fries.” She quickly scribbled down his order and left once again towards the kitchen.

This time it was Eddie's turn to stare at Richie. “Yes?” Richie asked.

“When you die of a heart attack from cholesterol build up I won’t mourn you,” he deadpanned

“Ouch Eds, tell me how you really feel, and besides the burgers here are best with everything on it.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

As the two boys passed the time they spent waiting for their food by teasing one another, heavily. When the food did arrive Richie waited for Eddie to take the first bite.

“Okay, I will admit this is pretty good,” he said after he finished his mouthful.

“Knew you would.” Richie smiled as he ate.

They spent the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence, listening to the music flowing from the jukebox near the front, and Richie couldn’t help but observe how nicely Eddie was dressed, and how he seemed just a little bit on edge, like he was nervous. Richie thought of how happy he was when Richie had shown up to his house early, and the way they had sat in silence the whole way there. Looking forward to our date. Was this a date?

“You good Rich?” Eddie asked snapping Richie out of his thoughts.

“Yea, it’s just-” he looked around before turning back to Eddie and lowering his voice. “-is this a date?” he asked, slapping himself mentally for even entertaining the possibility of Eddie agreeing to a date with him.

Eddie swallowed the fry he was chewing and responded in an equally quiet voice. “Do you want it to be?”

Richie didn’t know how to respond. All he could do was search Eddie's face. He looked more nervous now, but also a little bit hopeful. Richie looked down at his hand before answering. “Yes…” he was impossibly quiet.

“Then it is one,” Eddie said back. This caused Richie's head to snap up and look at Eddie, whose head was cast towards the plate in front of him, a blush rising on his face.

“Okay,” was all Richie could say.

Eddie looked backed up meeting his eyes and smiled, warm and full. “Okay.”

#reddieweek2020 #reddie fanfic #reddie #my fic #fic #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 4 years ago

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The Ghost of Jamie Sulivan

So I wrote something, feel free to take a look.

Ao3

"So Ms. Chainman, is this your first time volunteering?" The high pitched voice of the receptionist drew my attention away from the forms she herself had asked me to fill out. She stared at me bug-eyed from the small front desk.

"Yes it is. Why do you ask?" I figured it would be a bit too rude not to answer, but I kept it short.

She threw on a large smile that made my whole body wanna cringe. "Oh it's just that in a small town like this most of the volunteers have been here a while, that or they're friends of previous volunteers. So I'm guessin' that you just moved here."

"That’d be right."

Clearly that was the wrong answer as her face lit up. "Wonderful! You'll have to get signed up for the newspaper! Oh, and-" She just kept on talking. I tried to focus on anything except her squealing. I focused on the small empty lobby, tile floor and plastic chairs. I focused on the medical smell of bleach, sharp and lingering. And unfortunately I eventually focused back on the girl, still yapping away. "-the church is always looking for new folks. But now I just gotta ask, why'd a woman of your age move out here to the boonies?"

"Mind your tongue. I’m not dead yet, just getting up there in years. And as for why I moved, my friend and long-term roommate passed. No sense staying in the big place all alone, so I went ahead and rented it out to a couple for the season and moved to the smallest town I could find." I finished signing the last line and brought them to the girl.

"Oh I'm sorry, that must've been terrible. Any grandkids to help you move?" She gave the papers a once over before storing them and handing me a clip-on ID.

"No grandkids. Don't really have anyone anymore." That put a crack in her mask.

"Well I hope you enjoy your time talking to the patients. You can go head an’ make a few rounds. Just watch yourself when you get to room 218, that kids got somethin’ of what you might call a piss poor attitude." The smile was back at full strength as she waved me down the colorless hall.

Jesus Christ, what would Jamie think of me now? Living in a small town, why she'd laugh her ass off at the thought; but volunteering? She'd think her own mother had risen from the grave and possessed me. That woman was always wanting the two of us to do one good deed or another. She had volunteered us for everything from painting old Mrs. Crumbstone’s fence, to taking Josh Daylee and his half wit brother to the spring dance. But never once had we volunteered at a hospital, guess that’s why I picked it.

Room 103 held Ms. Sheppard, a young thing who just didn’t know when to stop running on a hurt foot. Now with a cast she said she was only stuck there for a little bit longer; she was stuck waiting for her mom to get home and check the answering machine, and till she came Ms. Sheppard was on strict orders not to move. So I listened to her babble on about some boy she had her heart set on until her mom burst in and gave her the what for. She said her goodbyes and I said mine.

Room 108 belonged to nearly blind Mr. Scott. And for a man who couldn’t tell what color shirt I was wearing he sure knew his way around a deck of cards. We made nice and he kicked my ass into next week. He told me to come by again, I said I’d be sure to so long as he gave me a chance. He gave a low chuckle and said he’d think about it.

Room 116 held the sweetest thing on wheels. Mary was a tiny little girl, said she was in there after getting her pendis out, never felt the need to correct the poor thing. I read her Curious George and Madeline , think the last one was brought in as a bit of irony, though I doubt she understood. When we finished she told me that I better come in next week if she’s still there, and of course I promised I would. Doubt anyone could say no to her little chubby face.

Eventually I made my way to room 218, the room the chihuahua of a receptionist warned me about. I made sure I went in, felt like getting back at the woman somehow. I suppose spending time with a sick person isn’t really a form of revenge, but here it sure felt like it and that’s what counted.

I knocked on the door and pushed it open. “Hello? I’m a new volunteer here. Name’s Victoria Chainman.” The room was almost a carbon copy of all the rest, a startling white with a large window opposite the door, and a bed right in the middle pushed to an adjacent wall. What was different was the extra nightstand at the foot of the bed, it was covered in movies and books of all sizes.

“Fresh meat eh?” The sickly boy was sitting against the headboard, book closed but the page saved with his hand.

The door closed with a creak and the chair I sat in gave a strained creak. “I suppose you could put it like that.”

“Well then I guess a ‘suppose’ will have to do. My name’s Jackson Landings, but please, call me Jack. Jackson was my grandfather’s name.” He spoke the last part in some sort of funny voice, a movie maybe?

“That headless chicken of a receptionist said you had ‘a piss poor attitude,’ so I figured I’d like you.”

He let out a small groan and grabbed his head in an overly dramatic sort of way.. “Dear lord that gabbing Gabby is always putting in a bad word for me with the fresh meat.”

“And may I ask why that might be? Surely it takes something real mean to tick off that ball of endless energy.”

Using his free hand he cupped his chin and cocked his head. “Isn’t it obvious? She was completely and utterly jealous about my amazingly dashing looks.”

I raised my eyebrow. The kid looked like what could only be described as a half starved sewer rat. His hair was a sandy brown, greasy and shaggy, but still a sandy brown; the kid was also deathly pale and skinny as a twig. Probably been in here longer than he’d lived outside.

“Okay, you caught me. I told her that her personality reminds me of a butterfly with rabies. But in my defense it’s completely true.”

I wasn’t expecting that. “Kid I think the two of us are going to get along like two peas in a pod.”

“Hmmm… I think I prefer the term ‘house on fire.’ A bit more dramatic, don’tcha think?” He dogeared his page and set the book aside, turning his full attention to me.

“That I do kid, that I do.”

The second Wednesday I came in I got my ass handed to me once again by Mr. Scott, then I went straight to Jack’s room. The small space looked the same as the week before, perhaps there were a few more books and movies but I couldn’t know for sure.

“Hey kiddo, whatcha reading this week?”

Same as the time before he sat up against the backboard, novel in hand. “ The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.”

“Ain’t that the one about the two kids with cancer. Bit sad for a place like this, doncha think?”

The boy had the nerve to smile. “I think reading this here is actually pretty funny. You should’ve seen the look on nurse Rayan’s face when he asked what it was about. Was completely priceless. And I personally think the book itself is really funny. This author has a way of taking something everyone thinks steals life and making it into something that gives that life right back.”

“Sounds like quite the book. Does it make you wanna go out on some adventure?”

The kids laugh makes the room seem just a bit more colorful, it was a lot like Jamie’s. “God no! Or at least not this kind of adventure. Sure this one means a whole lotta something, but I don’t want some starcrossed romance. I don’t want to leave that kind of ghost behind, not the kind where people will think of me as dying,” he said with the seriousness of a soldier.

“What do you mean by ghosts?” I don’t know why I asked the question, seeing as I already knew the answer.

“Ya’know? Ghosts? But not the spooky kind; not quite Casper either though. The kind of ghost that comes with too many memories and not enough time. I don’t want my folks or any lovers to have a ghost of sick me living free in their minds. I want my parents ghosts to be of their little boy; the one they brought into this world screaming and kicking. The one who cried after scraping his knee on the playground. I want my sister’s ghost to be of a strong big brother; the one who swung her around in the yard by her tiny legs. And it’s far too late in the game to pick up any poor soul for a relationship.”

“That's why you’re dying here and not at home?” I don’t think it was really a question, we both already knew it was a truth.

“Yeah. I don’t want their ghosts to be of their kid wasting away in their home. Wouldn’t be fair to any of ‘em. This way the only bad ghosts they’ll get will be in this building.”

“How old are you boy?”

“Well grams I’m fifteen.”

“You’re way too young to be talking like you and death are ol’ pals.”

His smile was weak as shaggy hair blocked his eyes. “I know.”

That evening when I went back to my new apartment I got thinking about my own ghosts and what kind they were. Mine weren’t the wasting away sort of ghosts, they were the nonexistent one moment and there the next sort. One day Jamie was knitting away on her fancy rocking chair on the porch, the next it was a ghost. Never did get to say goodbye properly.

“So grams, why’d ya start volunteering at this old place?” It was the fifth Wednesday.

“Well I’m new to the area-”

“Figured that much,” Jackson interrupted.

I gave him a stern look, he would mind his manners with me if he knew what was good for him. “- And I’m retired. Not real big on church either, so I found myself with way too much free time.”

“Why’d ya move? Surely if it was just for retirement you would’ve found someplace better than hicksville here. All we have is that church and maybe like a park or two.”

“Well kid I guess you could say I had one too many ghosts.”

He pondered this for a moment. “Bad ghost, or just ghost?”

“I’m not really sure, it was a sort of out of the blue kind of ghost.”

He nodded and we fell into a silence. I busied myself with reading today's book title. The Afterlife of Holly Chase by a Cynthia Hand. I wonder if it’s another funny kind of sad, or if it’s a make you think kind of book.

“Who’s your ghost?” he asked.

There was far too much to call her. A friend? A soulmate? “Jamie Sulivan,” I said simply.

“What was your Jamie Sulivan like?”

How could I even begin? Jamie Sulivan was a complete and utter whirlwind of a woman. She could walk into a room and turn heads so fast they would spin; it wasn’t because she was pretty, but because any soul with ears would hurt themselves just trying to focus on her words. She was loud, fast, and wild. But she was also calm as a mouse. She would wander into the kitchen in the morning and scrub the dinner dishes, all the while humming under her breath. She would talk to the plant when she tended them; whispering good mornings and hellos. She was a whole galaxy of a person. And she was my person, so I told him that.

“She was the sun. She had every single person she met revolving around her, yet she never abused that. She was a bit crazy, a bit wild, but she knew when she shouldn’t be. She dragged me into far more schemes that I could count. I was always worried we’d get caught- goodness knows her daddy would’ve had both our heads- but we never did. She could’ve picked anyone to be her person, and I will forever be thankful for that fact that she took one look at me and decided I would do.”

Jack hummed in acknowledgement and looked out the big window, taking a moment to think out what he’d heard. “Did you love your Jamie Sulivan?”

“Yeah kid, I reckon I loved her something fierce. And I have a pretty good feelin’ that she loved me too.”

“And now?”

“Whaddya mean now?”

“How do you feel about her ghost? Are you sorry you left it behind?”

I didn’t know how to respond.

When I came in on the seventh Wednesday the kid figured it was about time he asked me a few more questions. I knew they were coming at some point, jus’ part of gettin’ to know a person, yet I don’t think I was ready; it felt like it’d been a long time since I’d been around someone who didn’t know everything that made up my person.

“Hey Vicky?” Jack asked.

I huffed out a small laugh, that’s what Jamie’s dad had always tried to call me. “Yeah that nickname ain’t gonna work, but whatcha want kiddo?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, all high and mighty in his tiny frame on his big bed. “How old are you?”

I wasn’t expecting that. “Let’s see…” Thought I might humor him by thinking about it for a second, won me a small chuckle. “I’ll be turning seventy-two this year.”

Again he looked lost in thought. “So you were twenty something through the sixties?”

“Yeah I guess that sounds about right.” I wasn’t sure why this was so important.

“Must’ve been hard.” He looked a little sad.

“Why do you say that?”

He waved at all of me, wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not. “I mean with you and your Jamie, didja haveta walk on eggshells ‘round everyone?”

I suppose his question made a lot of sense. I never really thought about it like that. We were never the town lesbians or somethin’ like that, we were just Tori and Jamie; those two young ladies who kicked ass at the bowling alley every Tuesday.

“No, I don’t think we did. I don’t think folks even really knew who we were to each other. To them we were the two girls joined at the hip since we were lil’ tikes. We were just us, sure some of the old kooks gave us the stink eye when we’d hold hands down the street, but in the end I think they all just chalked it up to us being good ol’ gal pals.

He nodded and smiled, think he was happy for me. I think he was happy that we got the chance to love each other and I couldn’t help but think about how happy I was to have had the chance to love her.

“Tell me more about your Jamie?”

I smiled, it was a smile I had long thought gone, I guess Jamie was still the only one who could bring it out of me. “Sure thing kid.”

So I told him about me and Jamie’s parents, the ones who never thought to tell us it was high time to settle down with some nice gentlemen; the ones who each had asked us if we were happy. Of course we had said yes, and for them that was enough. I told him about the time Jamie pulled down the trousers of a boy in the school yard, for he had spilt milk on her nice Sunday the week before. I told him about how Jamie went ahead and socked the girl who made cracks at my having braids in high school. And I told him about the home we made together over in Utah.

When I finished he said one more thing to me. “I sure am glad you and your Jamie had a chance. If ya hadn’t I don’t think you would know about ghosts, and I don’t think we’d be friends.”

The kid was too smart, I felt he was too young to know about the hate we could’ve gotten back when, but I suppose he just wanted to leave behind the best ghost he could.

On the twelfth Wednesday I dragged in my old record player. A bit of a hunky thing, but when I mentioned it last Wednesday Jack’s face had lit up like Christmas lights, so of course I brought it with me.

He waved when I maneuvered myself through the door. “Whatcha reading today kiddo?”

He gave a great smile as he turned the novel so I could see. Today's book was They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera.

I set the player down on the end table he kept clear for his lunch. “Jesus Christ kid! Ain’t that one just a bit on the nose.”

“Rayan just about pissed himself today when he saw it.” His face showed with glee.

I shook my head. “One of these days you gonna run that poor kid out of here.”

“Nah, Rayan knows I’m just messing around. And besides it’s like actually a good book.”

This time I simply nodded along. “Gonna give me the rundown?”

“Of course, who do you take me for? Gabby?”

“We don’t speak the devil's name in this room. Now get on with it.”

“Okay so this one’s another romance. Basically people get an alert the day they’re going to die. So there’s a system that pairs up people who die on the same day, that way they can make a friend. Anyway these two dudes get paired and basically fall in love.” He gave little jazz hands as he finished.

“That was a piss poor description.”

“Now you know why I read and not write. Now what’d ya bring me today grams?” He gestured to the various records tucked under my arm.

I pulled one out. “Well you seem like the kind of kid who’d like Frank Sinatra.”

“Hell yeah I do!” His excitement was extremely contagious.

I couldn’t help but smile as I set up the record, Frank Sinatra had been Jamie’s favorite. Sometimes Jack felt a little bit too much like her for comfort, other times it felt like maybe Jamie herself led me to this boy.

We exchanged smiles as the songs filtered through the grainy speaker, we hummed along poorly and did a sort of swaying in our seats. It was something I might be bold enough to call perfect. Neither of us could sing for shit, but what mattered is that we did, and we did poorly together.

All the while I thought about how excited Jamie got every time I brought home a new record. The way she’d make me go fetch my fancy dress shoes just so we could stumble around the kitchen, and of course like always, she was the lead. Some days I didn’t really know what to do without my lead.

That night when I put the record player back into its box I couldn’t help wondering how Jamie’s ghost was fairing without me. Sure it’d always be stuck in that too big for one person house, but even with that couple renting I’m the only one who’d know she was there. I probably owed it a few apologies by now. Heck maybe next week I’d see if Jack couldn’t convince me to go for a visit. I’d just tell ‘em I wanted to see how they’re settling, ask if they’ve found a more permanent place to move into yet. Yeah, I’d get him to convince me next week.

On the thirteenth Wednesday I walked in through those two big sliding glass doors and was greeted by something I never thought would happen. Gabbing Gabby had shut her trap for the first time since I started coming. She and a tall woman with sandy brown locks where lookin’ at me with faces I’d only seen once before. I’d only seen that face when the neighbor came and told me he’d found Jamie face down on the porch. So I did the only thing I could do, I walked up to them and started a conversation with Gabby for the first time.

“Afternoon Gabby-” I nodded to the woman ”-Miss. How’re you this afternoon?”

She wasn’t smiling, and for once that was the part that scared me. “Well Ms. Chainman, I could be better. This here’s Jackson’s Mother, she wanted to tell you herself.”

I held out my hand to Jack’s mama and she took it in both of hers, she was shaking. “It alright if I call you Victoria?”

“Yes’m.”

“Victoria, I know you and Jackson were close. Heaven knows that he would blab about you when we visited.” She let out a choked laugh, tears fillin’ her eyes. “It started gettin’ bad over the weekend, and by Monday he was gone.” She dropped one of her hands and pulled a paper from under her arm. “Y’know he wrote you something. When nurse Rayan told him this was probably it he wrote you a letter. That kid hated writing, but he wrote you a letter. Said that you only come on Wednesdays and that he oughta tell you something.” She tucked the paper into my hand. “Well… that’s all I really came here to do.” She let go of my hands and took a step towards the doors. “Ms. Victoria Chainman, I do hope to see you around.” I had a feeling we both knew she wouldn’t.

“Same to you ma’am. Oh and ma’am.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” I would’ve told her I was sorry, sorry that she was left with only a ghost, but I think she knew.

She tilted her head through the tears and gave me Jack’s smile. “You’re most very welcome.” And with that Jack’s mother walked right through those two sliding doors.

“Gabby, ya mind if I read this here?” I think that all of his ghost was meant to stay right here.

She gave a sad smile, the effect wasn’t the same anymore. “That would be no problem Ms. Chainman.”

Sitting in those damn creaky plastic chairs I went ahead and started reading.

Dear grams,

Sorry I won’t see you on Wednesday, got a little busy. I figured I might as well try my hand at writing something, so you should feel honored that you’ll be the one getting this. I wanted to thank you for coming every Wednesday. I know that you stopped seeing the other patients and chose to hangout with little ol’ me. I’m thankful that you let me tell you about the books I was reading, and that you brought up those vinyl even though I could see the hurt in your eyes when they played. Thank you for listening to me talk about ghosts, even though most everyone has one I don’t think they can always see them; I know that you can see them. And finally thank you for telling me about your Jamie Sulivan. I think we both know I was the only thing keeping you here, so I think maybe it’s time for you to go home. Don’t you agree?

See ya later,

Jack

Carefully I folded the paper and tucked it into my jacket, I didn’t want it to get crinkled.

“Ms. Chainman?” Gabby actually looked worried.

“I think I’m going to go home if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course. I’ll see you next week?”

I handed her that tacky clip on ID. “Sorry but I won’t be back.” That was the last I saw of that Gabby, her nodding silently and putting the ID back where it came from.

On that thirteenth Wednesday I went right ahead and packed up that small one person apartment. It didn’t take too long I suppose, I had never really unpacked. I loaded everything that had seen Jamie into that truck and drove off, I could call the landlord to deal with the rest of it.

The whole ride I thought about Jack and I thought about Jamie. Jack was a tiny thing who knew he was gonna die, yet he acted like he wasn’t scared, but I knew he had been. Kid had been so obsessed with reading about death, sometimes I thought he was tryin’ to find what came next for him in the pages; but the thing about those books it that they only tell you about the ghosts. Those books only let you know what a person leaves behind, in those books he read you never knew where the person went, just where they had been. Maybe that’s why he knew about ghosts. Jack and Jamie were similar, but they were never comparable. Jamie had been the kind of person you never thought would ever be a ghost. She was the kind of person who you figured would be your stone until you were in the ground yourself, and yet she wasn’t. Jamie was a bright goofball who loved to live her life even if it meant getting closer to dying, and I was that shy girl she picked up who loved to live it with her. Jack had been ten miles on a life long road, and Jamie was at the start and the finish; and I couldn’t wait to get there.

On the way I had called the couple renting, it seemed that everything was going to work out, they had found a place and were almost out, jus’ forgot to call and let me know. Normally I would’ve been mad about someone forgettin’ about informing me like that, but this was a God send.

Drivin’ through the town I got glimpses of the ghost I had once wanted to leave behind. On Old Wicker Street Jamie waved to me from a bench that I had always driven by on my way to and from work. On Main Street she was smiling into the bakery window, ogling the fresh croissants. In our neighborhood she was getting the mail. And on the front lawn she was weeding the flowerbed.

I took a deep breath and I got out of that rusted pickup she hated so much and I went home. I went back to the ghost of Jamie Sulivan.

#my writing #story #short story #origional work #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

A little bit longer 4/4

So this may be just a little bit late, but here it the final chapter of my fic for the IT prompts fall 2020 exchange. This fic is for @thoughtfullyyoungduck @itfandomprompts

Ao3 Word count: 9322

After about a month back home Eddie finally managed to get Richie to schedule and attend his week three check-up. Needless to say his doctor who he usually only saw once a year at best was more than shocked when he walked in with a giant stab wound patch job. On the bright side he had cleared him to start walking around more, on the promise that he wouldn’t over exert himself. He assured his doctor the only exertion Eddie would let him get away with was cooking dinner.

During the month he had also talked Steve into letting him write his own material. Truth be told the part that took convincing wasn’t so much writing his own material, it was more convincing Steve to let him come out on his own terms, rather than at some interview. Last thing he wanted was someone trying to dig out his internalized fears for ratings. He and Steve did manage to agree that he should probably do it before his next show; they don’t want to shell shock a room full of his hopefully soon-to-be-old demographic.

Eddie had also managed to get his divorce pretty much finalized by the end of the first week, Apparently he had a pretty fucking solid prenup that basically covered everything except the actual end of the world. It probably also didn’t hurt that Eddie had agreed to give literally everything except the car. When he had said this Richie couldn’t help but stare at him, but he had just responded ‘what? I like the car.’ and that was that. Apparently everything he needed or wanted was in his massive bags he brought to Derry; it was almost like he knew he wouldn’t be going back. He was just glad that Eddie wouldn’t be forced to interact with Myra anymore. He only got to hear the muffled yelling through the phone, but from what he could tell, she fucking sucked almost as much as Sonia.

And as if the month hadn’t been hectic enough his parents had also come out to visit them. They had stayed for the entirety of the third week he was at home. He had to practically fend them off with a stick when they wanted to go to his appointment. At least they had brought with them a whole box of pictures from when all the losers and him were kids. The pictures now filled nice frames that littered the various surfaces around the house.

Richie had come out to the two of them, and for the whole time after that Maggie had made it her job to point out how much Eddie had changed every time he walked by. It was all ‘look at what a grown man you’ve become!’ and ‘you’re so handsome and put together; Richie could learn a thing or two from you’. And honestly like he hadn’t noticed how much Eddie had changed from when they were younger. Sure he still had the same amazing chocolate brown eyes that you could get lost in, but he had also grown out of his baby fat and into a body with a chiseled face and sculpted legs for days. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had to try not to swoon every time Eddie went for a run (he had started jogging almost everyday after he moved in), or the fact that his mom seemed privy to the attempts to not swoon.

Went had been a bit better. Of course he had been absolutely supportive and made a point to mention ‘well now I know why you always turned down my attempts to set you up with any girls.’ in an effort to lighten the topic. But after he saw the way him and Eddie argued while cooking, cleaning, eating, or just being around each other in general, he had started giving him the look over the top of his book anytime it happened. Lucky for him they didn’t notice their sleeping arrangement, or if they did they hadn’t made a point to mention it.

All in all it was nice to see them. When they were at the door ready to leave they had both dragged him and Eddie into massive hugs, his mom punctuating hers with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Maggie had told him he and Eddie better make their way down for the Tozier family thanksgiving, even if just for a few days. Before Richie even had a chance to assure her that he would but Eddie might be busy, Eddie declared that neither of them would miss it for the world. Richie tried to ignore the way his heart beat as he stood in the front door and waved to them being driven away in their taxi.

And finally after a nonstop week of hectic video meetings, emails, and writing, Richie finally got a break day. This is what he thought as he forced himself to roll out of bed and out of Eddie’s arms to go make them some sort of breakfast. In all honesty he had really just wanted to stay there and enjoy what he could get before Eddie left, but he didn’t want a repeat of when he awoke to Eddie smiling up at him, his heart couldn’t take it. So instead he made a point of having a nice breakfast ready when Eddie walked down the stairs.

While working on the pancake batter he can hear Eddie getting up and shuffling about to do his morning routine. He can also hear a knock on the door. He looks down at the batter. Ehhhhhhh it can stand to rest for just a minute, develop glutens and whatnot.

When he opens the door he’s a little shocked to find two medium sized packages on his doorstep; he couldn’t remember ordering anything. Upon closer inspection he sees they’re addressed to Eddie. He sets them down on the kitchen island.

“Hey Eds! You got some packages!” he yelled up the stairs.

“What!? Oh yeah! Those are for the house so you can go ahead and open them!” he called back.

What the fuck did he get for the house? Richie couldn’t help but wonder as he nabbed the paring knife from the block and opened up the boxes. He carefully took the items out and set them on the counter, he couldn’t help but stare. What the actually fuck was he looking at?

The first item was one of those wooden signs that you would see at a soccer mom’s house. The kind that hung by the door and read ‘live laugh love’ or some shit in fancy calligraphy. This one had the fancy calligraphy, only it said ‘free ranged children’. What the actual fuck!?

The next item he could help but laugh at. It was one of those small doily looking grandma throw pillows that should also have some random “heartwarming” thing stitched into it. This pillow however simply said ‘that’s what she said’. It was perfect.

“Eds get your ass down here!” He hollered in the direction of the stairs.

A moment later he came into the kitchen, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yes?” he said innocently, like he didn’t just order some of the weirdest (but funniest) decorations he had ever seen.

Richie couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “What the actual fuck!? Like seriously what are these!?”

Eddie shrugs. “I saw those while I was looking through amazon one day, and I thought you might like them, so I got them. Figure it may make the house feel a little bit… a little bit more you,” he concluded.

At this point Richie is folded half over clutching his stomach with laughter. He feels like he should be mildly offended that the soccer mom looking sign made Eddie think of him, but he can’t help but find this all fucking hilarious. “Dude. I love you.” He tried to ignore how sincere he sounded.

Once he calms down Richie manages to finish up the pancakes. He can’t help but force down laughter every time he glances at the new decorations while his mouth is full. At least Eddie doesn’t seem to be doing much better, as at one point he almost hacks up a lung after bursting into a fit of giggles with a mouth stuffed full of pancakes.

They ended up deciding to hang up the soccer mom sign by the door, and they opted for tossing the pillow onto the small armchair neither of them ever sit in. And for a while afterwards they just sit and admire their work from over the past few weeks. They had opted for getting some new furniture, swapping out the modernistic for a more cozy feel. It also didn’t hurt that they had gotten a rather large case, all to hold Richie’s records that were previously kept in his room. And with the pictures and various movie posters (that had been in Richie’s storage closet) put up everywhere this place was really starting to feel like home. They deserved to celebrate.

“Hey Eds?” Richie asked, turning his head to look down at Eddie, who was currently snuggled into his side. It had become a bit of a habit for him to do that whenever they sat down, and in all honesty he didn’t mind, okay, maybe he minded a little, it just felt a bit selfish was all. He almost felt like he was using Eddie for his affection.

Eddie pushed back a little bit to look up at him after feeling him shift. “Yeah?”

“Remember when I asked if you ever wanted to go out and do something? And you said that I could find something for us to do after I was cleared to move around a bit more?”

“I do recall something of the sort. Why? Have something in mind?”

“Yeah actually, I think I do have something in mind. We should go to an aquarium.”

Eddie pauses for a moment, pondering the idea. “That actually sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Honestly I thought you were going to say something really weird, like going to a drug den or something.”

Richie let out a small laugh. “Eds, if I knew where a drug den was you would probably already know about it. Like that is endless comedy material right there. Think about it, Richie Tozier, drug connoisseur.”

“Well excuse me! I don’t know what you could’ve gotten into when I wasn’t around, Mr. Bigshot-comedian.”

Richie can’t help but tug him in a little closer. “Trust me when I say I’m not a big fan of drugs. Tried a few back in college and thankfully none of them stuck. Also managed to kick cigarettes then too.”

He could feel Eddie let out a small sigh of relief. “I forgot that you used to smoke. You never did it around me very much did you?”

“Couldn’t have my favorite boy's assmar acting up now could I?” Eddie let out a small hum of agreement as he shifted, managing to get even closer to him, head thoroughly tucked into his shoulder.

They decided to leave around noon, that way they already had lunch, and would have a few good hours at the aquarium before getting dinner somewhere nice. He thought it was a pretty good plan, except for the fact that they had both forgotten to check for traffic. He had been so caught up with the prospect of going on an outing with Eddie that would probably be the closest he would ever get to a date, that he didn’t bother with the roads until they were already on them. About ten minutes from the aquarium there had been an accident on the highway, at least that’s what his phone told him; it also told him that no one was injured, but the cars being totaled had backed traffic up for a good five miles.

“Well this fucking sucks. This is why people should be retested for their licenses every few years, then maybe there wouldn’t be so many idiots getting into accidents!” Eddie rambled from the driver's seat (he had refused to let him drive).

“It’s fine Eds, cool your jets. We’ll get there eventually,” assured Richie.

“I know, it’s just that I want to be able to see everything at the aquarium, but if we’re there too long we’d have to get a late dinner; I would fucking hate to be that guy to comes in a hour and a half before closing.”

“Well if that’s all you’re worried about how about we just go out to dinner some other night. Y’know split things up a little bit, keep it simple for my first outing since the great skewering of 2016.” He winced as the joke came out a little flat. Maybe it was just a little too early to be joking about the time he almost died.

“Beep beep jackass. But yeah, spitting it up does sound nice. Guess we’re eating in.”

Richie couldn’t help it, he really fucking tried, but he just couldn’t. “Or eating out, if you know what I mean.” The joke was punctuation with an exaggerated wink.

He shot Richie a trained scowl, one that he knew all too well. It was the one that said I’m trying to look like I don’t think it’s funny, but I’m failing. “If these chucks are the basis for your new material, I think you should just hire some better ghost writers.”

“Oh how you wound me my dear Spaghetti!”

“Whatever.” With that he put his full attention back on the traffic that had finally started to budge.

~*~

Eddie paused as they approached the building. Turning back Richie could see a look of confusion on his face.

“What’s picking your brain spaghetti?”

“Okay, first of all, don’t call me that. Secondly, why does half of the building look like that one weird sculpture?” He gestures to the reflective part of the building behind Richie.

“Are you talking about the one that everyone refers to as ‘the bean’?”

He pauses again. “Are you telling me it’s not called the bean?”

“Nah it’s like ‘heaven's gate’ or some shit. Funny enough there’s actually this whole thing in the art community between the sculptor and this other dude; it’s pretty funny.” Richie smiles as Eddie just shakes his head and heads for the entrance.

“Come on fuckface, we’re wasting time.” Eddie picked up his pace and Richie followed behind.

Eddie had wasted no time between them getting in and grabbing a map. Richie busied himself with looking around the expansive area while Eddie quietly scrutinized the layout. Eventually, as always, his eyes fell back to Eddie. He focused on the way his eyebrows scrunched up when he was thinking, so similar to the way they had when they were kids. He looked at the seemingly permanent frown, a giddy feeling filled his chest as he thought of the way it always melted into a soft smile when they were alone. Eddie glanced up at him, warm brown eyes meeting his. Richie felt his own blank expression melt into what could probably be considered a lovesick smile.

“So it looks like this place has two floors and some outside areas. I say we start to our right, then loop our way through and then do the same on the next floor, then we hit the outside,” Eddie said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Okay then, let’s go.” And once again as Eddie walked off Richie followed close behind.

Richie spent the first hour with Eddie pinned to his side. Not by choice mind you. Sure maybe he was in love with him, and maybe he loved their cuddle time on the couch and in the mornings, but something about Eddie excitedly tugging him towards tanks filled with various colored fish fried his mind. He couldn’t help but think how his whole life was so painfully domestic right now, this was more than he’d ever gotten out of one of his hookups. For them it was all in and out (literally), no cuddling, almost no talking, no dates; not that this was a date, but holy shit did it feel like it.

He could barely focus on Eddie babbling about the facts on the walls next to the tanks as he took the time to look at him once again. Eddie had changed over the last month or so. When he had first saw him at the cursed-as-fuck Chinese restaurant Eddie had been all perfectly perfect hair, and clothes that had been perfectly ironed, perfectly sharp personality, and huge brown eyes that caught the light perfectly. In total he had been perfect and neat. Now Eddie was still perfect, but he was a different kind of perfect. His perfectly parted hair had been traded out for something softer. Eddie had never gotten around to buying anymore of his hair shit after he ran out, so now he had soft curls that fell over his ears just so. And what made it even more perfect was that now since it wasn’t set in place, Eddie had allowed Richie to start running his hands through it when they were on the couch, or in bed, and he would let out the cutest fucking sighs on the planet. His wardrobe had also taken a turn for the soft. On one of the days Richie had slept in, Eddie had snuck out and went clothes shopping. Which would normally not be an issue, only Richie was heads over heels in love with him, and he came back the the cutest fucking sweaters. It was getting almost impossible to be around him with how much he wanted to pull Eddie close and never let him leave every time he wore cashmere. The personality change felt a little less new, as it had been there since the hospital, but it was still different from the Eddie he remembered as kids. New Eddie seemed as though he had taken a file to his anger when it came to Richie. Sure he still cussed out the barista to the point that they almost cried for getting his order wrong, but when it came to him something was different. Eddie was so careful not to leave him alone for more than four hours. It was like he went full on shield mode, but not in a bad way, in a way that made him feel like Eddie would keep him safe. Richie had also noticed how the sharp smirks had changed into small smiles, ones so full of love fondness that it left him wanting to weep. Even his eyes had gone soft. Don’t get him wrong, they still captured every speck of light in the room and reflected it back at those who cared to take notice, but they no longer looked at Richie with an argumentative fire; it was more like a playful splash. And once again he had no fucking clue was this meant. Scratch that. He knows one thing, that it’s going to hurt like fucking hell when Eddie leaves.

“Hey asshat! Are you even paying attention?” Eddie gave him a small nudge.

Richie jerked himself back to the present. “Sorry Eds, spaced out for a second there. What were you saying?”

Eddie rolled his eyes before pointing to the corner of the large tank filled with rocks. “I was saying that there’s a moray eel over there.”

Richie looked, and sure enough one of those fucking creepy yellow water snakes was poking its head out. “Jesus Christ that thing looks like your mom after-”

“Nope! No, beep beep Richie! You are now going to compare a fucking eel to my mom, at least not while we’re surrounded by fucking 8-year-olds!” he hissed.

Richie could help but let out a snort of laughter, maybe he could just enjoy this for the little bit longer that he had it. And so he let Eddie drone on about leopard sharks, and how sharks just got a bad rep because of Jaws , but in reality were surprisingly non aggressive creatures. He didn’t have the heart to remind him that Jaws had been one of his favorite movies, and that he was in fact the one who introduced Eddie to it, because his mom refused to let him watch it when it was on TV.

Next up on their viewing list had been the jellyfish. Eddie had dragged them into a somewhat dark viewing room, tanks reached up the ceiling, and were set up in a way that the jellyfish seemed to light up the room. Richie couldn’t help but stare in awe as Eddie left his side to walk closer.

When he didn’t follow Eddie turned to look at him. “You coming?” And by god that should’ve been an easy question to answer, but the way the tank seemed to illuminate a halo around his entire body made him feel like he just fell in love all over again.

“Uh,” Eddie reached out his hand for Richie to take, “yeah.” Richie was probably crossing a line, a line that felt too wrong to cross, but the second he took Eddie’s hand he didn’t care. How could something be wrong when it felt so fucking right. Eddie's hand was surprisingly smaller than Richie’s, allowing him to completely intertwine their hands, and it just felt so right.

When Richie had looked up at Eddie he was looking right back, that soft smile that was so foreign, but so Eddie graced his lips. He felt that if he looked any longer something might flip in him; the kind of flip that would cause him to break when Eddie left, so he tore his eyes away, but their hands stayed together.

Their hands stayed together as they found their way to the sea otter exhibit. Their hands stayed together as they looked at the small furry creatures swimming through the water, and their hands stayed together as they talked about the otters.

One of the otters was floating on the water, rubbing at its face with it’s adorably tiny paws. With his free hand Richie pointed to it.

“Look Eddie! It’s you!”

He looked where he was pointing, Eddie’s brow furrowed and he turned to look up at Richie. “How the fuck is that me?”

“Well for starters that little creature is itsy bitsy, just like you Eds!” He could feel a genuine grin taking over his face. God he’s missed having friends.

“I’m not that short you dick! I’m like 5’9”, that’s the world average!”

“Not to mention it’s cute as a button, just like you.”

“I am a 40-year-old man, call me cute again and I will fucking castrate you,” Eddie deadpanned as a nearby mom shot them a death glare.

“Aaaaannnnnd, you do that adorable scrunchy scratchy thing when you wake up in the morning.” Richie watched as a small amount of pink dusted his cheeks.

“Okay you got me on that one,” he mumbled.

“That’s what I thought. So in conclusion,” he waved the hand back towards the otter, “it’s you.” Richie could feel his heart jump as Eddie gripped his hand a little tighter and shook his head fondly.

“Whatever asshole. Don’t go complaining to me I get my revenge.”

“Revenge for what!? Calling you cute?”

“No, for calling me short. It’s not my fault you’re a fucking skyscraper.”

Eventually the banter slowed as they made their way from the otters to one of those really fucking cool glass tunnels. It was one of the ones with all sorts of different fish and creatures swimming through it, they even managed to catch a view of a turtle swimming lazily overhead. And Eddie was still holding his hand. All in all, a good tunnel, 5/5 would recommend.

After that they made their way to the outside viewing areas. Eddie seemed to know exactly which path they should take, first taking them to see the sharks (fucking awesome), then to the penguins (adorable), and to where they are right now, the ray touch pool.

“Come on, just try it,” Richie wined.

“I will not be touching a slimy aquatic animal today, no discussion.” He had let go of Richie’s hand in favor of being a dramatic hypochondriac, and crossing his arms. Richie missed the contact already.

“But Eeeeeeeddieeeeeeeee, it’s part of the experience. You go to the aquarium, and you touch slimy aquatic stuff. It’s a thing!”

“Well it doesn’t have to be my thing,” he hmphed.

“Well suit yourself Monk, I’m going to go touch the flappy boys.”

“Please, for the love of everything good in this world, don’t ever phrase anything like that ever again.”

Richie leans precariously over the side of the tank, ignoring the light pain in his side and trying to reach for a ray that’s making a tight turn. “No such promises will ever be made.” He managed to reach in time to feel the smooth wing pass under his hand. He turned to look back at Eddie who had decided to sit on the edge. “Come on Eds, they’re not even that slimy.”

“Don’t hurt yourself. And also, nope I’m good.” And so Eddie sat on the edge while Richie reached in and let his hands glide over the rays.

After a few minutes, almost as though they had decided to specifically conspire against Eddie, one of the rays propelled itself up onto the edge slightly. The thing is, it was directly where Eddie was sitting. And not only did he get a lap full of water, but he also definitely got to feel the slime.

“AH SHIT!” Eddie bolted up like he was on fire, and Richie in turn doubled over in laughter. A man was covering a small girl's ears, and an employee was giving them ‘the look.’

“Aw fuck Eds, you good?” He managed to ask through the laughter.

“Am I good!? Do I look good to you!?” He looked thoroughly disgruntled, and his pants were soaked.

Richie shook his head fondly and guided Eddie over to the hand sanitizer station. “Chill Eds, you can sanitize over here, and it’s more than hot enough for you to dry off, not to mention you can change right when we get home.

One look at Richie and it was almost like all the anxiety drained right out of him. “I… umm, okay. Thanks Rich, you’re right,” he said, activating one of the automatic sanitizer dispensers.

“Now that that’s sorted, where to next?”

Eddie nodded vaguely behind them and quickly took Richie’s hand, intertwining their fingers before pulling him towards another exhibit. “This way.”

Soon they were stopped in front of the sea lion enclosure. Taking up one part of the enclosure was a small partially submerged stage. On said stage were two trainers, they alternated between tossing small toys for the sea lions to catch, and tossing treats to reward their behavior. The rest of the enclosure was water with a few raised rocks for them to rest on, in fact several were already there, sleeping in the sun.

Eddie gave a gentle tug on his arm, he was pointing at something. Following the outstretched arm Richie’s eyes landed on a particularly lazy looking sea lion who was asleep on the rocks.

“It’s you.”

Richie turned to him with raised eyebrows, only to find him fighting off that playful smile. “I’m sorry, but what?” “It’s you,” Eddie repeated, now looking up to meet Richie’s eyes, smile on full display. “You called me an otter, so now I’m calling you a sea lion.”

“Excuse me but I’m not a sea lion. If anything I’m a shark. Always finding my way right to my next meal. Which if you didn’t guess is your mom.”

“Okay, well beep beep asshole. I was just saying it seems to partake in your napping lifestyle.”

“I think I’m allowed to take a few naps without being called a sea lion, especially considering I’m recovering from major surgery.” Richie thought for a moment. “Hey! Why are you being mean to me!? The sea otter thing was totally a compliment! I called you cute!”

“You also called me short,” he stated. “Just think of this as my little bit of payback.” Eddie nudged him in the side and flashed a small ‘I win’ grin before tugging them off towards the gift shop. If love is supposed to hurt then Richie is in for a hell of a lot of pain.

By some miracle Eddie had managed to talk him down from getting the ridiculously overpriced giant shark stuffed animal. The one that you know you don’t need, but the sheer girth of it makes you want it.

“Where the hell would it even go huh? You already take up half the bed!”

Oh yeah, we share a room don’t we? “Well what if we put it in the guest room? That way whoever stayed in there wouldn’t be lonely,” he argued.

“No. They wouldn’t even be able to fit on the bed with that thing!”

“I never said it had to go on the bed!”

In the end the shark was abandoned and they got a small figurine. It was an underwater scene with two turtles swimming side by side. Eddie said he’d thought it would look good on one of the entertainment center shelves, make the place that much more homey.

On the way out of the gift shop they spotted a small photo booth in the corner. It looked a lot like the one from the Aladdin, and one look at Eddie’s face told him that he thought the same thing. So now they were making their way towards the car with one small figure, and two strips of photos. All in all he would have to say it’s been a good day, an extra two points since he got to hold Eddie’s hand; scratch that, holding Eddie’s hand is priceless, it’s infinite points.

~*~

The second they got back into the house they stuck one of the strips up on the fridge, and then Richie was banished from the kitchen after Eddie changed. He was set on attempting to put Richie’s culinary teachings to work and actually make dinner by himself for the first time since he moved in. So Richie made his way to the office. He might as well finally get around to transferring his notes to a document, at least that way he can finally send something other than chicken scratch pictures to Steve.

Walking into the office he spotted his laptop sitting neatly in the middle of the desk, rather than teetering on the edge like he had left it after ordering his plane ticket to hell over a month ago. He quickly grabbed his ‘jokebook notebook’ (Eddie disapproved of the name, yet he still calls it that.) from the floor where he had tossed it the previous night. He then immediately regretted the quick movement as he sat down, he may be cleared for walking long distance, but any sort of compressing or stretching motion still tended to hurt like a bitch.

The thing is, when Richie booted up the laptop a tab was already opened, a tab for apartment listings in LA. He wants to just be able to close out of the tab and get to work, he wants to just fucking ignore it, he wants to not care, but he really fucking cares. He really fucking cares because this can mean only one thing, that Eddie’s leaving, and he’s planning on doing it sooner rather than later.

How could he have fucking forgot!? Of course Eddie was going to leave at some point, he can’t just keep him here like a fucking hostage; Richie can’t be like fucking Sonia, he can’t be like Myra either, he knows this, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It actually hurts a whole fucking lot, but it’s fine because he’ll be fine. It doesn’t matter that he can feel his brain going numb, because Eddie’s going to have a chance to be happy and to find a woman who will treat him right. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t want to be happy with Richie because he has his own life plans that don’t include him (romantically, he’s sure they’ll still be friends. Right?). It’s fine because as long as Richie doesn’t do anything stupid he’s sure Eddie will still want to hangout with him. So it’s fine, it really is.

Richie’s not quite sure how long he sits there thinking, but it must be a while, because next thing he knows Eddie is knocking on the door and telling him dinner is ready. Maybe if I don’t screw up he’ll stay. He knows it's a longshot, but it’s the only shot he has. So he eats dinner on the sofa with Eddie, he tells him his chicken Caesar salad is pretty good, even though he can’t really taste it, but it’s fine. He tries to make a few jokes, they fall flat, but it’s fine because he doesn’t make any your mom jokes; Eddie hates those. Eddie asks him a few times if he’s okay, he doesn’t want to feel like a burden and make Eddie leave, so he says he’s fine, and Eddie believes him. It doesn’t matter that he makes no effort to cuddle Eddie during the movie, because he let’s Eddie come to him; it’s fine because this way he doesn’t have to worry about Eddie catching on to his feelings and leaving. It’s fine.

It’s not fine, because Richie’s plan had one flaw; the fact that they shared a room. He couldn’t make sure that he didn’t do anything to annoy Eddie while he slept. Maybe he would hold Eddie a little to close, and Eddie would decide that he was clingy and let Richie know that he had found a new place. Or maybe he would have another nightmare, maybe this would be the last one Eddie was willing to put up with and he would leave. Maybe… what if? All these thoughts swirled around in his head, clogging any clear train of thought, and freezing him in place as Eddie started to shimmy under the covers of their neatly made bed. It’s too much for him to handle, it’s going to kill him if he gets this again now that he knows Eddie could be gone any day now.

Eddie was looking up at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. “Rich? You coming?”

He wanted nothing more than to say yes and crawl into the warm bed. He wanted nothing more than to ignore his problems, only hold onto Eddie and never let go, but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. It’s too much. “We can’t do this anymore.” Eddie looks a little confused so Richie clarifies. “Sharing a bed I mean.”

For a moment Eddie looks completely hurt, but he quickly smooths his expression into something understanding. “That’s… that’s fine. If it makes you uncomfortable then of course we can stop. I can just grab-”

“That’s not it,” he interrupts. Eddie looks even more confused than earlier, so he barrels on. “What I mean is that you can’t let me have this. Cause if you let me have this it’s gonna wreck me when you leave.”

“Richie, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Eddie looks worried.

Richie hates that look on Eddie’s face, so he gazes at his feet. “You’re leaving right? I saw the apartment search left open on the laptop, so I figured you are planning on leaving soon.” He chances a glance back at Eddie who looks inexplicably sad, sadder than one should when they’re planning on leaving, so he looks back down.

Eddie slowly gets out of the bed and walks to where Richie is standing. He carefully takes Richie’s hands in his own and he gives them a small squeeze. “Rich… look at me.” He looks up and meets Eddie’s warm eyes. “I’m not going to leave unless you want me to. Do you want me to leave?”

He can feel tears welling in his eyes. “Of course I don’t want you to leave Eds. You being here makes this house actually feel like a home for once.” “Then I’m not going to leave.” Eddie gives him a small smile.

Richie just wants to live in the moment, but something is nagging in the back of his brain. “If you didn’t want to leave why were you looking at apartments?”

Richie can see the moment a little bit of Eddie’s composure starts to crumble. “I wanted to have a place to go in case you asked me to leave, in case I made you uncomfortable.”

It’s Richie’s turn to give the reassuring squeeze. “Eddie, I would never ask you to leave. And dude, how could you ever make me uncomfortable? I’ve literally been to hell and back with you, twice!”

An unreadable look passes over Eddie’s face as he pauses for a moment. Eventually he lets out a shallow breath and speaks. “I thought it would make you uncomfortable if I told you that I am gay, and that I’m in love with you.”

He couldn’t have heard that right, right? “I must be hearing things, because it sounded like you just said that you’re gay, and you’re in love with me.”

“Richie, I’m gay, and I’m in love with you. If… if you want me to leave now I still can.”

“Say it one more time.”

This time it comes out as a small whisper. “I’m gay, and I’m in love with you…”

He looks so small, so not Eddie, scared. Richie wants so badly to make that fear go away, to tell Eddie that it’s okay because he loves him too, but he can’t seem to make words work right now. So he does the only thing he can do to calm the increasingly panicky Eddie. He carefully lets go of Eddie’s hands and brings them up to gently cup his face, before leaning in and pressing their lips together. Eddie is stiff, but warm under his grasp.

Pulling back Richie finally finds his voice. “Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for like thirty years, and I would never ever ask you to leave.” He feels like maybe he should say it again just in case Eddie needs it to stick like he did.

But it doesn’t look like he needs to repeat himself. One time seems to be all it takes because the next moment Eddie is grabbing his collar and pulling him down for another kiss. Richie keeps one hand on his face, and let’s the other grip his fancy silk pajama shirt. It doesn’t matter that it may be a little bit salty from tears he may or may not have shed, and it doesn’t matter that they both taste like spearmint toothpaste, because it’s perfect. It’s crooked, and it’s messy, and it’s them.

Eddie lets out a small satisfied hum as Richie tilts his head to give them a better angle, mouth opening, letting him lick in, and holy shit if that isn’t everything he’s ever wanted. So much so in fact that he can’t help but let Eddie lead them to the bed. Feeling his legs hit the edge he sits down, and with lips still connected he pulls Eddie onto his lap, his legs straddling him. Eddie’s hands find his hair, gripping hard, giving him leverage. Richie failed to bite back the moan that escapes his lips. This seems to snap them both back to reality. Eddie slowly leans away, keeping eye contact despite the thin strand of spit between them.

Eddie looks wrecked despite the fact that they only kissed, his eyes are blown, and his clothes are askew from Richie’s grip. “Holy fucking shit Eds. That was fucking hot.”

Eddie smiles. “I agree, and as much as I want to keep going, maybe we should get the all clear from your doctor first. I don’t want to mess something up. So can we take a rain check?”

He brushes his thumb across Eddie’s cheek, he leans into it. “Eds, you can have as many rain checks as you want if we can keep doing that.”

Instead of answering Eddie gently pushes him down onto the bed and leans down to kiss him.

Eventually they run out of steam and find themselves more than content to cuddle under the covers. Something about cuddling in their bed now feels so much better than before, maybe it’s just that now neither of them feel guilty about it. Now there's no rush to absorb as much affection as possible now that they know it’s not going to end. They can just enjoy the feeling of being tangled up with one another as they slowly drift off.

“Hey Eds?”

“Hmmm?” Eddie’s about three seconds away from passing out.

“Does this mean we’re boyfriends, or partners now?” Richie finds himself asking.

“Par’ners, boyfriend sounds like we’re in high school.”

“Maybe, but I kind of think we deserve a makeup for our teenage years. Doncha think?”

Eddie makes a small sound of agreement. “Boyfriends then.”

“Boyfriends,” Richie agrees.

Richie can’t help but fall asleep with a smile on his face when Eddie pulls him just a little bit closer in his sleep.

Waking up the next morning, Eddie in his arms, and just being able to know he got to have this was everything Richie had ever needed and wanted.

~*~

They decided to wait a little bit before telling the losers. And by a little bit he means it only lasted a week. Eddie had barely managed to keep Stan and Bev from figuring it out with their nonstop texts telling him to hurry up and confess, but of course Richie had to zone out and answer a fucking group facetime while they were cuddling in bed. That had promptly put an end to all secrecy.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Richie asked groggily into the phone.

For a moment they were all silent, that is until Bev spoke up. “Richie… is that Eddie, shirtless… in bed with you?”

That had burst Eddie’s comfortable bubble. “SHIT RICH! Turn the fucking camera off!”

“Oh no you guys are not fucking avoiding this,” Stan cut in. “You are going to tell us what the fuck is going on before we send Bill over to get the answers for us!”

“Well… you see Stan, you get to keep your left testicle.”

“Richie, what the absolute fuck is that supposed to mean!?” The others could all see Eddie fully scowling at Richie, yet he was still tucked closely against his chest.

Richie opened his mouth to answer, but Stan beat him to it. “Back at the hospital I bet him my left testicle that you loved him back.”

Everyone on the small screen was now gawking.

“Does this mean you two are together now?” Ben asked, a small supportive smile forming on his face.

“If you must know, Spaghetti over here graciously agreed to be my boyfriend.”

Eddie wanted to shoot back a remark, but the word boyfriend left him flustered. All he could manage was to mumble out a small ‘not my name.’

Mike and Beverly spoke at the same time while Bill just sat there looking dumbfounded. “That’s great guys!” “Eddie why didn’t you fucking tell us!?”

The rest of the conversation had practically ended up as an interrogation. They decided to leave out the part where Richie had thought Eddie was leaving him, and the part where Eddie thought Richie would kick him out. But in all honestly they were both happy that the other losers knew now; all of them had been really happy for them, sure Bill was a bit confused at when it all happened, but he was more oblivious than two main characters in a drama combined.

After the losers had found out they decided they should probably also let Richie’s parents know. The call had gone smoothly enough, Maggie was an absolute dream, and Wentworth had told Richie he was happy for them, they both were. Once again the call ended with a promise to visit for thanksgiving (they had a great time).

Now it had been two months since they had gotten together and things were going great. Sure accepting their new dynamic had taken a bit of effort at first, but they found very few things had actually changed. They still argued like an old married couple, Eddie still sucked at cooking, Richie still told horrible jokes, but now they got to be able to display and receive the affection neither of them knew they both craved. It had started with small things, like how Eddie decided he liked it better when Richie full on laid on top of him while they watched movies, or how Richie no longer had any hesitation when he went to pull him into his arms. Now it seemed like they were almost always touching one another, and it was good. Richie would let him hug him from behind while he was cooking, or how he would almost always search out Richie’s hand while they went out. He was so fucking happy. For most of his life Eddie had just thought that he wasn’t really a touchy person, he would recoil when someone bumped into him, or would wash his hands after shaking a client’s. But when it came to Richie all bets were off, he wanted it, needed it, and Richie was more than happy to oblige.

Over the last two months they had even made strides in turning their house into more of a home. They had gone about painting some of the white walls to add more color to their home. They went with colors that would match the furniture they had previously gotten, trying to keep up the cozy feel. For example they had repainted the kitchen a deep maroon (Richie just said it was fucking dark red, but there’s a difference, a big difference). The had also changed the furniture in the living room a little bit more to work a little bit better with the fucking massive TV, now it was more cottage rustic than dystopian modern. They had also rearranged the pictures they had hung up everywhere, now they were more uniform and thought out, rather than just slapped on the wall to take up some of the white space. They had even dug out some old knick-knacks that Richie had tucked away in his closet. Now their little turtle figure sat proudly on the entertainment center, right next to a small pile of rocks that were apparently from the quarry. And on the shelf right above sat a small piece of wood.

“Okay so I have something for you,’ Richie said as he approached Eddie with a small box.

“Okay?” Eddie took the box, it had been shipped to them from Mike. “What the fuck did Mike send us now? Please tell me it’s not another packet of edible crickets.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck Mikey was thinking with that one.” Richie gestured to the box. “Trust me, this is a good one.”

Worry set aside Eddie quickly peeled off the tape and pulled open the box. Inside was a small object wrapped in bubble wrap. He quickly pulled off the plastic to reveal what appeared to have once been a circular piece of wood, but had been cut to better display what it said.

Eddie turned it over in his hand and observed the writing. “R+E?” It looked worn and faded.

“It stands for Richie and Eddie,” Richie stated like it was obvious. “I carved that into the kissing bridge the summer we fought It for the first time.” He paused. “What do you think?”

“I think this is a fucking act of vandalism, but I also think that I love you.” Richie had smiled and Eddie couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss.

That had been a little over a month ago, right after getting back from the Tozier’s, and right before they went to Stan’s for the holidays, and now the wood sat proudly on display; that is after they had recarved the initials and Eddie polished it. Looking at it now Eddie couldn’t help but think how lucky they are to have gotten to have this, things could’ve gone a lot differently if they hadn’t gotten to the hospital in time. He shook the thought from his mind, all that mattered in that they did get there in time and that Richie’s okay.

Things are actually going really okay for the both of them. Richie had finished the first draft of his new routine and had sent it off to Steve for critiquing, and Eddie was starting at the new office on Monday. So in celebration and to make up for the aquarium night, Richie had gotten them a reservation at some fancy restaurant that he swore by. Eddie hoped they might have a little something more to celebrate by the end of the night. He carefully touched the front pocket of his blazer to make sure that it was still there. He let out a small sigh of relief as he felt the outline of the small trinket. Now all he had to do was wait.

Richie popped his head around the corner. “Eds, you ready to go?”

He was more than ready.

~*~

He had to give Richie credit, the restaurant was pretty nice. It had that whole romantic feel that you see in the movies, and the view was nothing to scoff at either. They were seated next to large glass windows, giving them a gorgeous view of the sunset, and making everything that much more magical. He couldn’t help but let the feeling surround him as he smiled at Richie who had actually dressed up for once. It wasn’t the ‘nice Hawaiian shirt’ kind of dressed up, it was the ‘if we weren’t in public I would be jumping you right now’ kind of dressed up, and holy fuck he was loving it. He was wearing a dark blue blazer that hung open over a white dress shirt, and the black slacks had really brought everything together; sure his hair was still wild and curly, but that was the way he liked it.

They had just finished their dinner and were getting ready to order dessert. Richie had his eyes fixed on the small menu in his hands, meanwhile Eddie was resting his chin in his palm and just letting himself look at his boyfriend.

“I really love you, you know that?” Eddie asked, causing Richie to look up from the menu and give him the softest smile.

“I know. I love you too.” Eddie returns the smile. They keep that soft stare for another moment before Richie flickers his eyes back down to the menu before looking back up at Eddie. “How do you feel about two slices of black forest cake?”

“Sounds perfect.” Richie smiles and waves down to the waiter, politely asking for the cake before letting him take the menu. The waiter walks off. It’s now or never.

“Richie?” Eddie reaches out his hands for Richie to take.

Richie takes them and gives them a small squeeze. “Hmm, what’s up Eds?”

“Are you happy with us?”

Richie looks a little startled at first, but then he searches Eddie’s face; he must have seen what he wanted because the next moment his face practically drips with fondness. “Yes, I’m so fucking happy Eddie. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Eddie feels his heart melt. “Good, because I feel the same way.” He pauses to think out his next words, because these are the ones that are going to matter. “Richie, even though we’ve only been together for two months it feels like we have more than a lifetime of love between us. These few months with you back in my life have been enough to make me realize that I can’t live without you, believe me I tried. Those twenty-seven years it always felt like something was missing, someone.” Still holding Richie’s hands he leaves his seat and moves to kneel in front of Richie. Richie’s eyes widened. He let’s go of one of Richie’s hands and pulls out a thin gold band, a small R+E is engraved on the inside. “Richie, I’ve spent half my life missing you, and the other half annoying you. I lost you once and almost lost you again, I never want to live without you.” Richie’s crying as Eddie holds up the ring. “Will you marry me?”

Richie chokes back a small sob. “Holy shit… Eds. Of course I’ll marry you, you dickwad.”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt as light as he does when he slips the ring onto Richie’s ring finger and pulls him in for a lip-crushing kiss. The other occupants of the restaurant had been watching and started clapping for them, they barely noticed. Eventually Eddie pulls away and slips back into his seat, their hands stay intertwined, gold ring catching the light.

Richie looks down at the ring and smiles. “You little shitstain, I wanted to be the one to propose.”

Eddie didn’t think his grin could get wider. “Then why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like we were moving too fast.”

Eddie hums. “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

Richie pauses for a moment. “Fuck no! I think we wasted enough time.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

After their cake arrived they found it was almost hard to eat around their full mouth smiles, but they made do.

Richie swallowed a mouthful of cake. “Quick question. How did you get my ring size?”

“You sleep like a fucking sack of bricks were dropped on your head, though that's only when you’re having a good dream.”

“Touché. I guess I can’t argue with that.”

~*~

That night Eddie sat down on the couch with his fiancé and they called the losers.

“What did you two do this time?” Stan asks the second everyone is in the call.

Richie made a hurt sound. “What makes you think we did something!? I’m wounded!”

“Richie, last time you were the one who initiated the call you had brought home a box of kittens,” Bill dead panned.

“And I was right to call you guys, because now they all have nice homes with the various children of our community.”

Eddie poked him in the cheek. “I’m still mad about that by the way.”

“Cut the chit chat, what’s the news?” Beverly asked.

They both smiled. “Well if you must know my dearest Beverly, this comedian is about to be upgraded to ball-and-chain status.”

Everyone's eyes widened and Richie held up his hand to show off the ring.

Stan smiled. “Bill you owe me fifty bucks,” he said incidentally. Patty is cracking up in the background.

Bill sighs. “I’ll send it over. And in case you all are wondering I bet that Ben and Beverly would get engaged first.”

Eddie can’t help but feel like he’s right where he’s meant to be as he leans in to Richie’s side and listens to their friends try and talk over one another. He thinks maybe there’s someone or something looking out for them after all because they are all so lucky to be here now. And while they won’t live forever he’s more than happy that he gets to spend his portion of forever with Richie. They’ll get to go to bed, and wake up with each other for the rest of their lives. But for now he’s more than content to lean on his fiancé and spend a little bit longer in the moment.

#reddie #reddie fanfic #fic #My fic #exchange #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

A little bit longer 1/4

This is my fic for the IT prompts fall 2020 exchange. I had an absolute joy planning and writing this and I can’t wait to see what everyone thinks.

This was written for @thoughtfullyyoungduck who requested: Richie getting hurt instead of Eddie, protective Eddie, and oblivious dumbasses. @itfandomprompts

Warnings: Major Character injury and minor homophobic language

Ao3 Word count: 8650

After the Ritual of Chüd had failed everything went by so fast. It had turned into some sort of giant fucking lovecraftian spider creature, so in response Richie had done the only thing he could think to do; he grabbed Eddie and fucking ran. Richie pulled him somewhere he thought would be out of sight, they ended up behind a small outcropping watching as It ran by and tried desperately to claw its way towards at least one of their scattering friends.

“Hey, do you think it can see us?” Richie might have spoken a little too loudly, okay he definitely did as the clown whipped it’s head towards them before charging. Yelling they booked it into a crack in the cistern wall, It’s claw chasing closely behind pushing them further inwards.

Richie’s blood rushed to his ears as they came to a stop in front of three familiar doors. Each labeled with dripping blood. ‘Not scary at all’, ‘Scary��, and ‘Very scary’.

They turned to see that the claw had stopped moving forward, but it was still moving around, groping at open air in an attempt to find one of them. No going back now. They turned back to the doors, Richie’s hand still firmly grasping Eddie’s wrist.

“We’re trapped,” Richie said in a hushed tone, stating the obvious.

Eddie turned to look at him. “What do we do?” He waited for Richie to respond, but he just continued to look at the doors. Eddie looked away and let out a huff. “Alright. Let’s do ‘Not scary at all’.”

Eddie began to move forward but Richie jerked him back. “Don’t! It’s a trick. We need to pick ‘Very scary.”

“Are you sure? 'Cause like ‘Not scary at all’ sounds a lot better.”

“Yea, Bill and I did this our last trip around.” Richie tried to give Eddie a reassuring look, but at this point he knew he was failing.

“Okay, then open it,” Eddie said nudging Richie towards the door.

Richie took a deep breath and pulled the door open. A chill ran down his spine as he looked at what was on the other side. A closet. Har-fucking-har even for the clown this was a little bit on the nose. They both stood there staring, clearly neither quite sure what to do, but before either had a chance to say something a pair of torso-less legs barreled through the clothes.

Richie slammed the door shut. “Okay ‘Not scary at all’ it is.”

Eddie opened this one. The door revealed a stretched hallway, its walls mirrored that of the cistern. They probably would’ve gone in if it weren’t for the tiny Pomeranian staring up at them will big ol’ puppy dog eyes.

“Oh no I’m not falling for that,” Eddie said looking down.

Richie made a sound of agreement. “Yea no, that’s totally a trap.”

Eddie gave a small tug at Richie’s arm and looked up at him. “Richie make it sit.”

“What?! Fuck no that thing’s probably gonna turn into a monster.”

“Come on just do it!” How could Richie say no to Eddie’s own pair of puppy dog eyes.

Rolling his eyes Richie spoke the command at the tiny dog. “Sit!” The little fucker actually sat. “Oh that’s actually pretty cute.”

“Yea,” Eddie said in agreement. They cooed at it for another moment only for the dog to then turn into a monster. They slammed the door shut.

This time Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand and pulled towards the passage they came from. The passage was not open and clear with the claw gone. “Next time we go for regular scary!”

“Next time!?” Richie yelled after him.

When Richie emerged from the passage Pennywise had one of his claws wrapped around Mike. Oh shit , It’s jaw widened, hundreds of teeth seeming ready to jump at the chance for a snack. Richie frantically looked around at the ground for anything that could help. He picked up the largest rock he could find and threw it. The rock hit it’s target, snapping Its attention away from Mike.

He had no fucking clue where this bravery was coming from. “Hey fuckface!” Pennywise threw Mike aside, causing him to hit a rock and roll to the ground. He picked up another rock. “Wanna play truth or dare!? Here’s a truth, you’re a sloppy bitch!” All Its attention was on him. “Yea that’s right! Let’s dance! Yippee-ki-yay motherf-”

Everything stopped. Richie had no fucking clue when or where he was. The only thing he could make out was blindingly bright light. Suddenly the light was gone. In its place thousands of memories were being flicked through his mind like channels. No they weren’t memories because they hadn’t happened. He saw Stan slumped over in a bathtub. He saw Mike's lifeless body, a knife in his chest, neck being gripped tightly by Bowers. Bill getting hit by a car. A drunk Ben falling off a rooftop. Beverly being beaten to death by a man he’s never seen.

It all came to a slow as one type of vision played on repeat.The ones where Eddie died. Eddie was on top of him, his cheek was still injured, but he looked so happy. He looked so happy and he was looking at Richie, looking at him like he wanted him to be happy with him. Next thing he knew blood splattered onto his face as Eddie was skewered through the chest. Eddie had let Richie’s name fall from his lips before he was lifted up on It’s claw and tossed to the side like a rag doll. Another one started, this time Richie walked into Eddie’s room to find him dead on the floor. His stomach completely cut open. Another. Eddie was dragged underwater with Bev. Another. Thirteen year old Eddie getting his head bit off by Pennywise. Another, another, another another another another.

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped, and Richie fell.

~*~

Richie was caught in the deadlights. Richie had managed to pass him in the passage and get out into the cistern ahead of him; now he was stuck in the deadlights. Fuck, this was definitely not good.

Eddie backs himself against the passage entrance; he closes his eyes willing the sight before him to disappear. Nothing changes, It’s gaping maw is still channeling the deadlights towards Richie who’s dead weight in the air. Shit . No one was doing anything. Why was no one doing anything? Where was everyone? If Richie stayed there he was going to die.

“ You’re braver than you think.”

“It kills monsters if you believe it does.”

Richie and Beverly's words rang through Eddie’s mind. He clutched the fence post tight in his hand and looked at it. He wanted to be brave. He wanted to help his friends, and he sure as hell wanted to kill that monster.

“This… kills monsters if you believe it does.” He closed his eyes and gripped tighter. “If you believe it does. If you believe it does. If you believe it does!” Eddie pulls off his headlamp and moves to face It.

He drew his arm back- “BEEP-BEEP MOTHERFUCKER!” -and threw. The post became a spear; going right into Its mouth, sending Richie falling to the ground with a horrible thump and It to go stumbling backwards, skewering itself on a spike. It screamed and sputtered.

Eddie stood up straight. “Holy shit!” He had done that, he killed it, he saved Richie!

Richie. Eddie made a run for his fallen friend. “Rich! Rich!” Eddie was on top of him, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to make him lucid. “Hey Rich, wake up. Hey.” Richie started to come to and looked up at him. “Yea yea there he is buddy! Hey Richie listen, I think I got it man! I think I killed it! I did-” And the world went spinning.

~*~

Richie was in a huge fucking amount of pain. His mind felt like mush, it felt more scrambled than the eggs he had before coming to Derry. He also noticed there was a massive throbbing pain in the back of his head, and his whole body felt like he just did a belly flop. Like straight up slapping onto the water from the high board or something. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep for the next three days, but someone was shaking him and trying to get his attention, rude.

He squinted, opening his eyes, trying to figure out where in the world he was. Oh shit . He was still in the fucking sewer, trying to kill a murderous space clown with his best friends he hadn’t seen since high school. Not to mention that Eddie right on top of him trying to talk to him, looking excited, looking happy… Looking like he wanted Richie to be happy with him… Holy fuck he knew where this was gonna go, he had to do something like right fucking now.

Richie gripped Eddie’s shoulders and flipped them. Eddie let out a noise of confusion before looking up at Richie, anger seeping into his expression.

“Richie wha-” Eddie was cut off, blood splattered on his face. His eyes trailed down to Richie’s side. Richie looked down. It was like a bad dream, one he’d seen before, only now the positions were flipped. Thank god for that. The fucking clown had stabbed him through his left side with it’s claw, it was oozing blood. It dripped from the claw onto Eddie, soaking into his shirt. During the flip he must’ve moved them a bit to the side, as his injury didn’t match the Eddie had gotten right through his middle.

Richie moved his head to look at Eddie. “Eddie…”

“Richie,” he whispered back.

Maybe it was a good thing that he had flipped them and gotten stabbed in the side instead, because when It went to lift him the claw tore the rest of its way through his side. Blood poured from his side and he collapsed down onto Eddie.

“Shit Richie,” Eddie sounded panicked. I wonder why? He held Richie stable, grabbing him on either side below his wound as he looked around frantically. He must’ve spotted something as he started shouting.

“Stan thank fuck! Get over here and help me move him!” The next thing he knew Stan’s arms were pulling him up, allowing Eddie to slip out from under him before they each took an arm and looked for somewhere to go.

Stan momentarily let go of Richie’s arm and pointed to an outcropping of larger rock formations. “Over there! Come on, let’s hurry!” They quickly managed their way over before laying Richie against the back of the rock, hidden from sight.

Stan moved to the side to let Eddie move closer to him. Eddie looked him over and quickly stripped off his sweatshirt, moving to hold it against Richie’s injury. He winced in pain, letting out a small groan. “Shit Richie, you saved my life. Now you’re hurt... “ Eddie looked like he might cry. “We’re going to get you out of here,” he spoke with such sincerity that it sounded like a promise, but as much as Richie wanted to leave with them with this kind of injury he didn’t have long.

Richie just shakes his head and moves his hands to hold Eddie’s free one, he grips back. “Hey Eds, it’s okay.” He thought that it really was okay, he had stopped this from happening to Eddie. Eddie has a chance to live now, so it’s okay.

“No it’s not,” he sounds strained.

Richie just smiles at him, a sad and resigned smile before letting go of his hand. “You gotta go help em, both of you. Go fuck up that bitch of a clown for me. Will you do that Eds?”

Eddie puts more pressure on the wound before meeting Richie’s eyes once again.“Don’t call me Eds, you know that I’ve always hated that,” he pauses for a moment before continuing. “I… I don’t know how to help.”

Mike chooses that moment to run over and crouch down next to Stan. “Shit… Richie,” sadness fills his voice.

“Don’t worry about me Mike’n’ike, I’m strong as an ox. Just focus on getting that clown…” his voice begins to taper off at the end.

Mike smiles at his attempt to make humor in this situation from hell. “We will buddy. We just need to figure out how to make it beatable.”

Something clicks in Eddie’s head and he turns to Mike. “Hell, when I had my hands around the leper’s neck, I was making it small. I was hurting it!”

Mike’s eyes widen, almost comically so. “All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit. Shit! If we can make it small we can hurt it!” The others were arriving by their side.

Stan looked to Mike. “The entrance, if we go back there it’ll have to make itself small to follow us.”

“H-holy fuck Stan you’re a genius,” Bill said, having over heard the important part of the conversation during his approach. “Come on!” Bill waved and the losers got up to follow, racing towards the entrance, all but Eddie and Richie that was.

Richie looks to Eddie once again. “Go on Eds, they need your help. I’ll be fine,” He sputtered through the blood filling his mouth. Richie moved his hands once again to cover Eddie’s that were firmly holding the sweatshirt to his side.

“Fuck that you need me more!” Eddie threw back.

There was the fire Richie loved. The fire that made him want every second of Eddie’s attention. Eddie who he had loved his whole life without even knowing it. Maybe he could tell him… It wouldn’t matter if he was going anyway. So he took the chance. “Eddie, I love you.”

Eddie’s sharp features softened as he looked at Richie. “I love you too man.” He didn’t get it, but that’s okay. What matters is that he got to tell him, whether he understood or not.

“Okay, seriously though, get over there.” He could hear the losers shouting insults at It, making it small.

“Fuck no, I’m not leaving you here alone. Someone’s gotta keep and eye on your ugly mug...”

Richie tried to laugh, instead he started coughing. Blood sprayed onto Eddie’s shirt, weirdly enough Eddie didn’t seem to notice or care. No comment of gross or disgusting, just hands pressing further into his side.

“Come on Rich just stay with me, you don’t need to talk. Just focus on keeping your eyes open,” the last bit came out as a plea.

Richie tries, he really does. He wants to look at Eddie’s face as long as possible. He wants to take the image with him wherever he’s gonna go next. But he just can’t help it, he can feel his eyes start to close as he watches Eddie and listens to Its dying pleas.

Eddie pushes on the sweatshirt with one hand and starts to shake Richie with the other. “Come on Rich, you have to stay awake. Just a little bit longer,” he promised. Richie smiled and nodded, his eyes half shut and unfocused. He tires to open his eyes all the way as he hears the rest of the losers come back. The ground began to shake, the cistern crumbling around them.

Ben shouts at them. “Hey come on, we got It, we won. let’s go.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t think Richie can move. We’re going to need to carry him out.” He sounds so broken.

Richie thinks that won’t work, no he knows it’s not gonna work. He grabs at Eddie’s free hand. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re n’ gonna get m’ out, jus’ go.” He’s done all he’s ever needed to anyway. But one look at Eddie tells him that that’s not gonna happen. Eddie looks horrified at the idea of leaving Richie and saving themselves.

Before Eddie can open his mouth to argue Beverly jumps in. “Fuck that. Ben grab him!”

Eddie moves out of the way to let Ben grab him, but not before attempting to tuck the sweatshirt into Richie’s clothes in hopes of it stopping some of the bleeding. Ben has a surprisingly easy time tossing Richie over his shoulder, despite them being close to the same stature. He would make a joke about it, but he didn’t really have the energy to talk, let alone focus. The whole time Richie was vaguely aware of them making their way out of the sewer. He was most definitely aware of them going up the well as it took three of them to do it and it hurt like a bitch. He was also aware of when they got out of the house and when they laid him down on the street.

Eddie was immediately by his side, resting Richie’s head on his legs and reapplying pressure to the sweatshirt that had actually managed to stay in place. His glasses however? Not so lucky. He managed to find it in himself to smile, because he was looking up at Eddie, a blurry Eddie, but his Eddie nonetheless. He would get to go in Eddie’s arms.

“Stan, fuck, you put your phone in a bag right? Call an ambulance,” Eddie ordered.

Stan jolted into action, pulling out his phone, that sure enough was in a little Ziploc bag, he all but tore it out of the little baggy before dialing 911. God he loved Stan, with his vests and smart little Ziploc bags. He was gonna miss Stan. He was going to miss all of them.

Eddie turned his attention back to Richie. “Come on Rich, don’t give up on me now. You need to stick around. Who’s going to tell me they fucked my mom if you’re gone? If you stick around I’ll even let you call me Eds. Just please hold on!” Tears finally made their way down Eddie’s face.

Richie tries to give his best comforting smile, and uses what feels like the last of his strength to cup his cheek and wipe a tear away. Eddie shakes his head and leans into the touch, more tears falling without his permission. His face is warm against his hand, he wishes he could keep it there, but his arm falls to his side without his permission.

Richie manages to stay conscious until the paramedics arrive and cart him into the ambulance. He finally lets himself fall back into his mind as he sees Eddie got in with him. His Eddie, who is holding his hand. He smiles and tires to grip Eddie’s hand as the world fades to black.

~*~

The moment the ambulance is parked it seems like the whole world springs into action. Richie is whisked away from him in a flurry of panic. He can hear the nurses and paramedics throwing words around like ‘gaping wound’ and ‘potential head trauma’ as he follows closely behind. He had tried to follow Richie, he really did. He ran after the gurney as long as he could, craning his head trying to look at Richie. He followed until Richie disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors and a nurse nudged him towards a group of plastic chairs pushed against a wall.

“Sir you’re going to need to wait here for news on your friend. In the meanwhile can I ask you a few questions?” He spoke in a slow calm voice, clearly trying to prevent any further panic on his part.

Eddie sat down and looked up at him. He nodded. “What do you need to know?”

“Well for starters can I get you and your friend's name and what happened?” He took out a pen and readied it over a clipboard.

By the time the other losers managed to show up the nurse was long gone, having given him a clean shirt and sweatpants to change into after patching up his cheek. He was left there alone in the chair, and Eddie was on the verge of what was sure to be a nasty panic attack. Being able to see that Richie was alive was the only thing keeping him from spiraling, but now he had no idea how Richie was. Was he even alive? Or was he… A soft touch dragged him out of his thoughts.

Beverly was kneeling down in front of Eddie’s seat. One hand rested comfortingly on his knee. “Eddie, honey.” Eddie met her eyes, they were filled with concern. “You need to breathe, he’s going to be okay.” He hadn’t noticed he was hyperventilating. He tried to take even breaths.

“How do you know? How do you know he’s going to be okay?” He sobbed.

“Because there’s no way Richie would leave us without saying goodbye.” She looked so sure. How could she be so sure?

The losers sat down in the open seats next to him. Ben stood next to Bev's chair, a hand on her shoulder. With Bev’s hand still on his knee, Eddie held his head in his hands and began to wait.

They waited for fucking hours. At some point each of the losers had gotten up to make a phone call, or to grab coffee and a snack. Just something to keep them from sitting and waiting. Each time one of them got up they made a point of asking Eddie if he needed something, he just waved them off, not wanting to be distracted for even a second.. At one point Bill came back and held a water cup in front of his face.

“I’m good, thanks…” He sounded dead as he tried to wave him off.

“Come on man, we don’t need you getting dehydrated. Richie doesn’t need that,” his words were soft but still hit hard.

If it would help Richie he could spare a few seconds. He drank the whole cup without another word.

It was eight hours before they heard anything.

A short woman in a doctor's coat appeared. “Hello, I’m Mr. Tozier's doctor, Dr.Richardson. I understand you are all here for him?”

Eddie was incidentally on alert and looked up as Bill stepped forward, taking the lead. “Yes, he’s one of our friends. Is he okay?”

She smiled at them. “For the most part he’s fine. We imagine he’ll make a full recovery given time. We had to patch up some of his organs that the wood went through.” Mike and Ben nodded along as she talked. Clearly trying to confirm whatever story Eddie had made up. “Unfortunately the wound was too large for stitches, so we did need to perform a skin graft. We did however find swelling in his brain most likely due to impact. This has created some issues.”

Beverly stood up. “What sort of issues?”

“Well we won’t know for sure until he wakes up, but there may be some potential memory gaps. And after he comes off of his medication chances are he will be in a coma until the swelling goes down.”

Memory issues? A coma? Fuck.

“Can we see him?” Eddie asked in a shaky voice.

She nodded. “Follow me.” She turned and headed down the hall. The losers let Eddie lead the way.

Richie’s room was small and void of color. Three plastic chairs were placed next to the bed, and another three lined the wall opposite of the bed. The room was almost completely silent as they walked in, the only noise their footsteps and the mechanical beeping of the heart moniter. Richie’s alive.

“Alright, I’ll let you guys stay for about thirty minutes, but then I’ll have to ask you guys to leave as visiting hours are long over.” She gave them all a reassuring smile before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

The second the door closed Eddie wobbled his way to the closest chair to Richie and sat down. He scooted until he was flush against the bed and looked at his friend. Richie looked so tired. His skin was pale, it wasn’t the usual cream he always was. He was almost grey looking. Deep bags sat under his eyes, making him look infidelity older. Nothing like the forever young trashmouth he was used to. If he didn’t know better he would think this was a corpse.

Eddie doesn't look at any of the other losers as they sit down, or as he takes Richie’s hand in his and starts whispering. “Hey Rich… You made it. You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay... You’re going to be okay right?” Tears cascaded down his face and he bit back a sob. “You need to be okay. I need you to be okay…” Eddie shifted forward, allowing his elbows to rest on the edge of the bed as he brought Richie’s hand to his face. “Why’d you save me?”

Eddie stayed like that letting out silent sobs as the losers whispered to one another. He probably would’ve never moved his head again if it weren’t for the nurse entering. She informed them that they would need to be clearing out soon.

Eddie turns his head towards the nurse. “Is there any way we’re able to stay?”

She looks at him, face instantly softening filling with compassion. “We can let one of you stay overnight as long as it’s not detrimental to the patient. Do you want me to bring in a cot?”

Stan speaks up. “Yes, we will be needing a cot. Thank you.” She gives a quick nod before slipping back out the door.

Stan turns to Eddie. “Are you fine with staying overnight?”

“Are you sure none of you guys want to stay?” Eddie asked, looking over all of their faces. No one says anything. “Thank you.” It was quiet and barely audible but Stan smiled in response and waved it off.

Eventually the nurse comes back in with the cot, quickly setting it up against the available space on the side wall, before wishing them all a good night and leaving. The losers all say their goodbyes and promise to be back the second it’s visiting hours before leaving Eddie alone with Richie. He doesn’t move despite the cot. He wants to be able to feel Richie next to him. He wants to know that he’s okay. He needs to know that he’s okay. So he stays in the chair, eventually laying his head on the bed and falling into a light sleep, his hand still intertwined with Richie's.

~*~

That morning Eddie wakes up to the sound of the door opening. Looking up he winces, a serious crick having formed in his neck from sleeping slumped over in the chair. He moves a hand to rub at his neck, leaving the other in Richie’s hand as he looks at the nurse who just entered. It wasn’t the nurse from the night before.

The nurse seemed startled by his sudden movement. “Sorry if I woke you up. Just checking his vitals.”

Eddie nodded. “It’s fine. If I slept like that any longer I probably wouldn’t be able to move my neck,” he says groggily.

“Well in that case you’re welcome.” She quickly checked the machines and made a few notes before leaving the room.

After a few hours the losers arrive. Everyone sat in about the same spots as the night before. Eddie was glad that the losers were back. He honestly was. But he couldn’t help feeling like they were interrupting a private moment. Yet he could never think of asking them to leave. As much as Richie needed them there, he also needed them there.

For a while they all sat in silence. No one seemed sure what to say or do. That is until Bill broke the silence.

“Eddie?” Bill asked.

“Hmm?” He turned to him.

“Have you moved at all since last night.” Bill looked concerned.

Eddie gripped Richie’s hand a little tighter. “No…” he said cautiously. He slowly looked around at the others. They all had the same look of concern painted on their faces.

“What the fuck Eddie? Come on. I’m taking you to get a shower and some food.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to object but then Mike joined in. “Come on man. You need to take care of yourself.”

“No I’m fine. Really-”

“What would Richie say?” Stan said suddenly, causing everyone to turn to him.

Eddie just looked back at Richie’s still face before solemnly nodding and forcing himself out of the chair, his knees popping. Giving Richie’s hand one last squeeze he walked towards the door. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Eddie walks out into the hallway, Bill joining him a moment later and leading them towards what he assumes in the parking lot.

He notices the hospital looks a lot different when you actually take the time to look at it. The hallways are surprisingly spacious and the large windows covering the walls give it a nicer calmer feel. Eddie never liked hospitals, but as far as they go, this one isn’t the worst.

Reaching the parking lot Bill quickly leads them over to a rather beat up looking truck. The thing doesn’t look a day over fifty.

Eddie looked at Bill. “Is this yours?” he asked, gesturing to the vehicle. Was that really the best a famous author could do?

“No it’s Mikes. He’s letting us borrow it,” he responded, unlocking it and hopping in.

“Well okay then.” Eddie went around and climbed into the passengers' side. Bill easily reversed the truck out of the spot and then drove off in the direction of the townhouse.

Bill broke the silence. “We moved all of your stuff into my room since yours was, for lack of a better word, fucked.”

Eddie knew that he meant that his room wasn’t covered in the blood of their psycho childhood bully. He chose not to mention it. “Thanks.”

When they arrived Eddie didn’t even bother going through his stuff. He grabbed the first set of clothes he could get his hands on and his toiletry bag before locking himself in the bathroom. He wanted to get this over with as fast as possible, so that he could get back to Richie as fast as possible. The shower lasted all of ten minutes before he was out and dragging Bill back towards the truck.

“That was fast. I thought you would be like an hour, at least,” Bill said, shocked.

“Yea well I don’t want to waste any time.”

“Is there like, anything else you need?” Bill asked, jogging a little to catch up to Eddie.

“Nothing that matters right now, and if there is, we can get it later,” he said, waving off the question.

They ended up spending more time away from the hospital, and in turn away from Richie. Bill, against Eddie’s wishes mind you, drove them to the nearest place with food and forced Eddie out of the car.

Standing in the parking lot Eddie groaned as Bill locked stepped out of the truck. “Bill I’m not going to eat at a fucking Denny’s.”

“Well to fucking bad you don’t have a choice, so let’s move it.” He grabbed Eddie’s sleeve and pulled him into the restaurant.

They ate at fucking Denny’s. Eddie ended up getting a stack of pancakes, having remembered his fake allergies, but still telling Bill about the risks of poor food. Bill ignored him and ate his scrambled eggs.

When they finally got back to the hospital Eddie entered the room to see Mike in the seat closest to Richie. When he saw who had entered he immediately got up, giving the seat to Eddie without so much as a word. Eddie sat down and reached for Richie’s hand.

“What’d you guys get to eat?” Bev asked.

“We stopped at Denny's, I had eggs and Eddie had some pancakes,” Bill answered.

Eddie could feel the surprised looks on their faces without even turning around.

“You got Eddie to eat at a Denny’s?” Stan asked.

“Oh no, I definitely forced him.”

Ben spoke up. “Yea that sounds about right.”

After Ben responded the conversation fell flat. No one seemed to know what to talk about with one of the losers laying incapacitated in a hospital bed, and another one all but consumed by their thoughts. No one seemed to know if it was even okay to talk at all. What was the code for when someone was in a coma?

After a bit more awkward silence Mike tried to revive the conversation. “What are your guys’ plans for getting out of here?” Mike asked.

His question seemed to grab Stan’s attention. “My wife Patty and I were planning a trip. We’re going bird watching for our anniversary.”

Mike smiled. “That’s great. How did you meet Patty?”

Stan’s normally deadpan face seemed to light up at the very concept of his wife. Why aren't I like that? “We actually met in college.”

Stan and Mike continued to talk back and forth, Bill occasionally jumping in with his marriage experiences. They were having fun. At some point the conversation turned to work, Bill bringing up his new movie and Ben talking about the buildings he had planned. No one really tried to engage Eddie, but they all looked over at him occasionally, letting him know that he was more than welcome to join in at any time. It was probably for the best. All Eddie could focus on was the feeling of Richie’s limp hand in his own.

When lunch came around Beverly and Ben offered to pick everyone up something to eat, and anything they needed from the town house. Eddie had requested that they get his phone. Myra was probably worried about him, he hadn’t called her for two days. Plus he should also let his boss know what’s going on. He’s not planning on going back to work any time soon, or New York for that matter.

Roughly an hour later they return with a surprising amount of sandwiches, and Eddie’s phone. While they passed out the food Eddie turned his phone on and was immediately greeted by no less than a thousand notifications. About ten were from his boss, the others were from Myra. Speaking of Myra his phone lit up with her picture, buzzing incessantly.

Eddie let go of Richie’s hand and headed for the door. He looked at the losers over his shoulder.

“Phone call. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t wait for a response before putting the device to his ear and stepping into the hall.

The second the call goes through Myra’s shrill voice bursts through the speaker. “Eddie Bear is that you!?”

“Yes Marty, it’s me.” Shit she was just like his mom, it wasn’t her fault, but still.

“Oh god Eddie! Do you know how worried I’ve been about you!? I thought you got hurt! Or worse!” She was so loud he had to pull the phone away.

“No no… I’m fine, but could you calm down a little bit. I’m really tired, and I can’t really be loud where I’m at.” He bit back his tongue. Shit this is not going to end well.

“Wait… Where are you?” She sounded near hysterical.

“I’m at the hospital right now, but-”

“THE HOSPITAL! EDDIE ARE YOU OKAY!? DO YOU HAVE YOUR PILLS!?” People started looking at him, their conversation clearly audible.

“Myra you need to calm down. I’m okay. One of the friends I came here to see got hurt really bad,” he explained.

“Eddie I’m going to come and get you right now! I never should have let you go. You need me. We need to get you home.”

The idea of going home and leaving Richie here doesn’t sit right. “No! I’m not going to go home while one of my best friends is here in a coma!” He can hear a shocked gasp on the other end.

“Eddie I’m your best friend. And clearly you shouldn’t be there, it’s raising your blood pressure. And anyone who would do that to you clearly isn’t a good person, they’re endangering you. This friend of yours is endangering you!” she cried.

Richie had never done anything to endanger Eddie in his life. In fact he almost fucking died saving his life. “You fucking know what Myra? Richie is the best goddamn person I’ve ever met! He almost died saving my life! So you can just fuck off! Expect to hear from my fucking lawyers!” People were definitely looking at him now.

“Eddie-” He hung up.

For a moment he stood there breathing. Had he actually just done that? Was he actually getting a fucking divorce?

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was one of the hospital staff.

“Sir I’m going to have to ask you to keep it down, or to please go outside.”

“Oh shiiiii- sorry. Yeah ummm no I’ll be quiet. Sorry.” The last thing he wanted was to get kicked out.

The staff member nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile before patting him on the shoulder, and walking away. Holy shit, he was getting a divorce.

He slowly crept back into the room. They all turned to him.

Ben spoke first. “Are you okay? We could kind of hear you yelling.” Shit, they heard that?

“Umm yeah… No I’m not okay. I couldn’t do it anymore. She was just like my mom with the pills. Telling me who I can be friends with. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Beverly walks over and wraps him in a hug. “Oh honey…”

“I mean it’s probably a good thing that I’m getting a divorce. We were never really happy.” He looks up at the rest of them. “What am I going to do?” He lets a few tears fall from his eyes.

The rest of the losers get up and join in on the hug.

“You’ll figure it out.” Stan’s words were reassuring, calming him down enough that he could actually focus on being there, with his family.

~*~

Eddie lived like a zombie. Barley eating, drinking, or moving from Richie’s side for three and a half days. He would eat the food they forced into his lap, and drink from the somehow constantly full bottle by his chair, but he wouldn’t leave Richie for more than five minutes. He was willing to sit there holding his hand for as long as it took for him to wake up. He wanted to be the first thing Richie saw when he opened his eyes. He wanted him to wake up and immediately know that Eddie had been there waiting for him the whole time.

“Come on Eddie, get up. We’re going on a walk.” Stan placed a hand on his shoulder shaking him out of his trance.

“No. I’m fine right here,” he said, not bothering to look up.

He let out a low sigh. “Come on man. You’ll get blood clots if you just sit there forever.” Well… Stan wasn’t wrong about that.

They ended up in a small garden to the side of the hospital. Probably something put in to cheer up the long term patients.. Small flowers and bushes filled the area, making it look less like empty space filled with weeds, and more like actual landscaping.They walked for a minute along the thin path before Stan spoke.

“I’ll be going back home next week. Can only stay away from Patty and my job for so long.” He was looking at Eddie now. “What about your job? When do you need to be getting back?”

Eddie shrugged. “I haven’t had a vacation since I started working there. I probably have a good seven months of vacation time saved up.”

Stan winced at his explanation. “Yikes, over working much?” The joke fell flat.

“Kept me away from the house… Away from Myra.” He didn’t realize how sad that was until he said it.

Stan just nodded before asking another question, one Eddie honestly wasn’t expecting. “Are you okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’m honestly not sure,” he says, trying to walk ahead. He didn’t want to have this conversation yet.

Stan matches his pace. “Are you like this because of Richie?” Stan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Eddie stops and turns to Stan. His eyes were big and sad. “When Richie isn’t being a trashmouth it feels like something’s missing. When there’s no one there to call me Eds, or to make fun of my mom. It feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. Every second Richie lays there it feels like I’m dying, only it’s worse when I’m not there with him. Every second away from Richie all these years it felt like I was barely living. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He’s crying.

Stan doesn’t look surprised, he just looks off towards the garden. He ignored the question in favor of asking his own. “Why do you think that is?”

Why…? Oh. Shit. That’s why. “Holy shit... I’m in love with him.” He feels like everything makes so much more sense, but at same time it feels like nothing makes sense anymore. He knows why it never felt right with Myra. He knows why his mom’s stories of AIDS scared him so much. He doesn’t know why he’s just realizing this now.

Stan smiles and nods, still looking away.

“Can we go back? I… I want to be near him.” Asking that feels like admitting his feelings all over again.

“Yeah… let’s head back.” Stan doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t ask Eddie if he’s gay, or why he married a woman. He doesn’t call him a fag. He just gives Eddie the most reassuring smile he’s ever seen as they head back towards the building.

The second they’re back in the room Eddie sits down and grabs Richie’s hand. He looks at his friend, his best friend, the only person he probably really loved. Why did it take him so long to figure it out? Why did it take him so long to know that was what love felt like? Every touch, every sleepover, every ice cream cone. That’s what he’d been missing. He never wanted to miss out on that again. He had made up his mind, when Richie woke up he was going wherever he went.

~*~

Eventually someone had to leave. That next morning Bill went home. Something about a deadline for his job, and something about his wife. They were all sad to see him go, but with promises to update him on Richie’s condition and for him to fly back the second he wakes up he leaves. He texts them when he lands.

The Losers Chat

Bill: Just landed getting into a taxi now

Bill: Doctor say anything after I left?

Eddie: Actually yes. They took him in for another scan and reported that the swelling had gone down substantially.

Bev: She told us all we really have to do now is wait

Bill: 👍 keep me updated

Mike: Will do

Stan: Eddie you text like an old man.

Eddie: 🖕

~*~

The next day all the losers decided to go for lunch. They wanted to all go out and get some fresh air, and something better than hospital food. Except Eddie that is, and apparently Beverly.

“Go ahead you guys, I want to talk to Eddie. Bring us both back something good, I’m hungry.” She waves as they shut the door. She waits a moment before taking the seat next to Eddie. She’s looking at Richie.

“How are you doing?” she asks, her palm coming to rest on Eddie’s hand that is currently still entangled with Richie’s.

“As well as I can be.” He was glad she stayed behind, he needed some one on one time with someone. Sometimes it was easier to talk to one person. And he had a lot he was ready to talk about.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Her voice was soft. Since when could she read minds? Maybe she always could.

He turns to her and nods. “It took him almost dying, but I figured out why I could never leave him alone. Why I always had to push his buttons.”

“Why?”

“I’m in love with him. Plain and simple. It hurts so fucking much to see him laying here like this.” He takes a shuddering breath, he doesn’t want to cry again.

She squeezes his hand. “I get it. I don’t know what I would do if it were Ben laying there.” For a while they sit there, listening to the beeping of the machines and their own breathing.

She turns to him. “What are you going to do when he wakes up?”

He pauses for a moment and looks back down at Richie. He never wants to be without him again. “I’m going to help him get better. I want to be there for him every step of the way. I’ll take him anyway he’ll let me, even if it’s just as friends. I’ll do whatever he wants me to do.” The words came surprisingly easy, each one completely true.

Beverly looked like she wanted to say something, instead she hums in agreement and changes the topic.

“What do you think they’ll get us for lunch?”

“Hopefully something from somewhere up to code. I don’t want to end up in my own hospital bed.” She just pats his shoulder in response and they wait.

When they get back Ben walks over to Beverly and kisses her on the top of her head, dropping a wrapped up grilled cheese into her lap in the process. He hands one over to Eddie as well.

“Thank you dear,” she says smiling up at him. She unwraps her food and takes a bite before turning to Eddie. “That reminds me, last night at the townhouse Ben and I booked flights out on the same day as Stan. We both have our businesses to think about.”

Eddie nods along before turning to Mike. “Mike what are your plans?”

Mike looks surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean It’s gone. You can get out of here now. Go and see the world.”

“I haven’t really thought about it, I guess we’ll see what happens after Richie wakes up.”

The rest of the day went by slowly. The occasional nurse came in to check on Richie, but other than that they were all just sitting around. Maybe Richie would wake up soon and break the silence. He was always good at that.

Eventually it was about an hour before visiting hours ended. Bev and Ben were off in their own corner of the room, chatting about what Eddie imagined where life plans. Living together, big vacations for the two of them, maybe losers get togethers, who knows? Stan was out in the hall somewhere planning the details for his return with Patty. Mike was slumped over in his chair next to Eddie’s, scrolling endlessly through his phone. And Eddie, he just sat there gripping onto Richie for dear life.

The calm atmosphere was ruined by the door opening. Eddie turned to see who it was. It wasn’t Stan, and it definitely wasn’t a nurse or the doctor. The person in question was a man of average height. He wore street clothes, and his hair was perfectly parted. What the fuck?

“Who the fuck are you?” Eddie asks accusingly, attempting to keep his voice down, but failing miserably. He didn’t want anyone bothering Richie, so this guy better have the wrong room.

The guy looks surprised and slightly freaked out. “I could ask you the same thing.” The losers look at him for a minute before he folds. “I’m Richie’s emergency contact.”

Eddie sees red. “If you’re if fucking emergency contact, then why did it take you five days to show up!? What if he was dead in a ditch somewhere!? Then what!?” Ben places a hand on his shoulder in a silent plea for him to take a breath.

Ben, the angel he is, tries to cover up his blunt rudeness. “I think he means to ask, how do you know Richie?”

The guy looks a little less freaked out, but still tries to stand up straighter. “I’m Steve. I’m Richie’s manager. I had to tie up a few things back in LA before I could make my way to the middle of nowhere Maine. Now can I ask who you guys are that you’re with him before his emergency contact ?”

Ben’s grip tightens, preventing Eddie from screaming out anything else. “We’re all Richie’s childhood friends. We were all in town for a reunion, you know rehashing old memories? But then a building we were in came down, Richie didn’t get so lucky.” Eddie’s amazed Ben was able to lie so easily. Granted it wasn’t all a lie, but still.

Steve nods and moves to lean against the wall by the door. “So what's the news on him? He gonna be walking up anytime soon?”

Mike answered this question. “He was impaled by a piece of falling wood. The area’s all stitched up and healing. He did sustain a head injury that caused some swelling, putting him in a coma. The swelling has gone down though.”

“Jesus Christ, head injury and fucking impaled? I take it he’s going to need some serious recovery time?” He scratched the back of his head.

Eddie tries not to burst a vessel as Beverly answers. “He’ll definitely be out of the comedy game for a while.”

“That’s too bad. I’ll be heading out tomorrow. Got some things to do. How long are you guys sticking around?” Eddie wanted to strangle him. He didn’t even seem like he was worried about Richie’s health, just the money he would be losing.

All eyes are on Eddie, he realizes they’re waiting for him to answer because he’s going to stay the longest no matter what. “I’m planning on staying with him through his whole recovery.” Ben let’s go and walks back towards Bev.

“In that case can I give you my number? Y’know, give me updates and stuff. Let me know when he wakes up?” He sounded so cheerful and expectant.

“Sure,” Eddie grits out through clenched teeth. This guy is his emergency fucking contact? He isn’t even planning on hanging around for him to wake up from his fucking coma?

Stan picks this moment to walk back in. “Hey so I was talking to Patty and-” He looks at Steve. “Who’s this?”

Eddie gestures dramatically with one hand. “Stan, meet Steve. Richie’s manager and apparent emergency contact.”

Stan nods a hello. “Didn’t know Richie was smart enough to remember to put down an emergency contact.” He walks over towards Ben and Bev.

“He wasn’t, I made him. Better safe than sorry.” Steve laughs dryly.

Eddie can hear Stan asking ‘what's up with him?’ He doesn’t catch all of Ben’s response but he can make out the words ‘emergency contact’ and ‘five days’. Stan looks over at him and Eddie immediately turns to face Richie. He got caught eavesdropping. Does it really count as eavesdropping you’re all in the same room, and if they know you’re listening?

In the morning Steve flies out. He shoots Eddie a quick text letting him know. He didn’t even stop by to check on Richie one last time. Fucking rude. What a poor way to start off the day.

His mood does improve when Dr.Richardson comes in after Richie has another scan. She tells him the swelling is basically gone and he could wake up any day now. Eddie doesn’t focus on the could part. It gives him a little bit more hope.

That afternoon the losers leave Eddie alone as they go for lunch. He doesn’t mind, and he’s actually kind of glad they weren’t there this time.

#reddie #reddie fanfic #fic #My fic #exchange #f slur tw #injury tw #fix it fic #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

A little bit longer 3/4

Here is chapter three of four for my fic for the It prompts fall 2020 exchange. This fic is written for @thoughtfullyyoungduck , @itfandomprompts

Ao3 Word count: 7477

Richie was knocked the fuck out for most of the plane ride. Can you really blame him though? He was probably drugged up on more meds than Eddie had sugar pills growing up. But apparently Eddie did blame him. Once they landed and made their way to get their stuff from baggage claim it was non stop ‘I had to listen to a fucking baby cry for four hours straight!’ and ‘You said the flight wasn’t that bad, but it was definitely that bad!’, and by god Richie loved it. It was like things were getting back to some form of normal.

For most of his stay in the hospital it almost seemed like Eddie was holding back. Like he was scared that if he and Richie had their usual arguments that he would break. Sure he was better after he had assured him that he was nothing like his mom, and that he wasn’t smothering him, but it still felt like something was different. There were more lingering touches, more kind words, and definitely more soft smiles not hidden behind the usual fake frown. It wasn’t necessarily a bad difference, just one he wasn’t quite sure how he was meant to feel about.

Speaking of, at that moment Richie felt a soft touch on his arm. Snapping into focus he realized A) they had gotten their luggage, and were now waiting at arrivals for the taxi they called. And B) It was Eddie who had touched his arm, and was looking up at him with those big brown eyes filled with worry.

“Hey you back with me?” Eddie spoke as though Richie was the only thing that mattered.

Richie pushed the thought from his mind. “Yeah, uhhh. Just zoned out for a minute there,” he fumbled out.

“Okay, just let me know if you’re in any pain.” Eddie gave his arm a slight squeeze before dropping it back to grab his bag. He wished he would never let go.

“Will do Dr.K. So much as a pinch and you’ll be the first to know.” Richie gave a small salute before turning back to watch for the taxi.

They stood for a moment before Eddie decided to fill the silence. “I really fucking hope you had someone clean your place. I still don’t trust you when you say it’s not messy.”

“Believe me when I say, you don’t have to worry about there being a mess.” He paused. “Unless someone broke in and trashed the place while I was busy getting all patched up by Dr.Dickson.” He watched for Eddie’s reaction from the corner of his eye.

His face scrunched up slightly. “You shithead, be nice to her, she saved your fucking life. And also, you said that just to worry me didn’t you?”

“You have no proof. For all you know I could be genuinely concerned for the well being of my humble abode; the crime rates in my area are astronomical.”

“Bullshit.”

Eventually the cab showed up. Richie tried to help with the luggage, but Eddie refused to let him lift even the fucking toiletry bag.

“Dr. Richard son said you’re not supposed to lift anything heavier than fifteen pounds. So you are not going to touch a single fucking thing until we get to your place! Got it?”

Richie couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I got it Eds. But one question, how the fuck did you manage to put more than fifteen pounds of stuff in a toiletry bag?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eddie asked, slamming the trunk shut.

“Yeah! That’s why I fucking asked!” Richie yelled as Eddie slipped into his side of the taxi.

Eddie simply shrugged at him once they were both seated in the taxi. Anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Richie did. There was another soft smile just barely peeking out from under his frown. God he was so gone for that little shit... and now he was going to be living with him, and he would be helping him move around, helping him get groceries and wash the dishes, and helping him with his physical therapy. God he was fucked. Royaly and truly fucked.

After what felt like hours, but was actually more like thirty minutes, they pulled up to his house.

Eddie’s mouth was gaping slightly. “This is where you live!?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just not what I expected, it’s nice.”

Honestly Richie was pretty happy with where he lived. It was a gated community, so he didn’t have to worry about any fans bothering him when he took his trash out, and the house itself was actually rather nice. It was an average looking two story house. The kind of average house that you see in some sort of movie about a gay teen and their otherwise average family. Y’know, the one where the kid is closeted and then they come out via some unforeseen circumstances. Ironic much?

In all honesty if someone had asked him why he chose to live there, he would have to say he really picked the house because of the back yard. Sure the two guest rooms were nice, and the office and garage weren’t anything to laugh at either. But something about the open yard with two large trees in the back resonated with him. Looking back on it now he realizes the trees are the perfect space apart for a hammock. Guess somethings stuck with him after all.

After they arrived Richie slipped the cab driver an extra fifty. Just a small thank you for putting up with him and Eddie for more than two minutes. In all honesty the man probably deserves a fucking fruit basket, he especially deserved it after Eddie started lecturing him on proper car seat cleaning. The man looked so thankful for not only the money, but to have them out of his car.

After that Richie was banished to wait on the steps for Eddie to finish unloading the car and bringing the bags up. Eventually the poor driver is finally able to get away, practically speeding his way to the front gate.

Eddie brought the last bag up the steps and set it down with a thump. He looked at him and crossed his arms. “Well? Are you going to open the door, or are we just going to sleep on the fucking lawn?”

“All you had to do was ask. Hold your horses Eds.” He dug around and pulled out his keys, hearing a small ‘Not my name.’ mumbled from behind him. Slipping it into the lock he unceremoniously pushed the door open and stepped in. “Well here it is, your new home sweet home.” Only for a little while though. Richie’s brain supplied unhelpfully.

When Eddie didn’t respond he turned to see him gawking from the doorway. “What the fuck man!? It looks like someone copy and pasted the minimalist section of IKEA in here, only they forgot all the decorations and chucked in the biggest flat screen money could buy!”

Richie can’t help but let out a laugh, because that was basically what happened. He had asked Steve to hire someone to get furniture and plan out the space for him, though he gave almost no input (except for the giant flat screen), leaving everything to the designer. After the designer had picked out all the furniture they told him they would leave the minor details to him, but he hadn’t really cared. So for minor details he did nothing.

“You pretty much hit the nail on the head with that in depth analysis of yours.”

Eddie pried his eyes from the surrounding area and looked up at him. He looked sad? “Why?”

“What the hell do you mean why?” Richie asked, thoroughly confused. It was just a house.

Eddie gives him a small shrug as he moves the bags into the entryway, shutting the door behind him. “I mean, growing up your room always looked like some sort of bomb had exploded in there, but like in a good way. Everything in there was so fucking colorful I thought I would go blind. Your walls were completely covered in pictures of all us losers, and posters from bands or video games. And practically every surface that wasn’t the floor, because that’s where your entire fucking closet was, was covered in CDs and mix tapes. But this place… it just feels kind of dead. You know? Like you’re this big loud person and I couldn’t even picture a mouse living here.”

Eddie had hit the nail on the head once again. Richie can’t help but let his eyes fall to the floor as he speaks. “Well y’know, when I left Derry I didn’t really remember any of you guys, and I never really let anyone get too close, so no pictures. I mean I guess I do have a few, there’s one of Maggie and Went in the hall upstairs. I mean… it felt like if I decorated this place like me, then anyone who saw it would know. And I wasn’t ready for anyone to know.” By the end Richie’s practically whispering.

The feeling of Eddie’s hand on his shoulder makes him flinch before he raises his head to meet Eddie’s eyes. “You have us all back now, and you don’t have to be worried about people knowing.” He gives him a small reassuring smile and it means everything. “Maybe we could get Mrs. Tozier to dig out some of your old photos, and we could make it our goal to redecorate a little while I’m here.” He can’t help but notice the while , reminding him that at some point Eddie’s going to leave. But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, so he chooses to mirror Eddie’s smile.

“Sounds great Eds. Can’t wait.” And he means it.

~*~

Since Richie isn’t exactly mobile, or able to lift stuff, he tells Eddie where his room and the guest room is, and flops down on the couch much to his disagreement. He was hoping that when he brought Eddie to his house he would be able to do the whole mini tour thing, have some fun with it. Instead his side appears to have different plans, as the second he sits on the couch he knows he won’t be getting up without help. So he decided to make the best of it as he busies himself with the grating task of finding something for them both to watch on Netflix.

He’s silently debating between comedies when he hears Eddie yell down the stairs. “When was the last time you washed your sheets!?”

When was the last time he washed the guest sheets? “Literally never! But don’t worry about that fact, I don’t think anyone’s ever slept in there either!” He yelled back.

“What the hell do you mean you don’t think !?”

Richie just can’t help himself. “Who knows when the local burglars just needed a quick nap before getting back to their rifling and pillaging!”

“Fuck off! You do know that even if no one sleeps in them dust still accumulates on the sheets right!? Fuck it, they’re going in the wash!” After about ten minutes Eddie comes down the stairs with a large hamper full of their dirty clothes and sheets. Where the fuck did he get that? Do I even own a hamper?

While Eddie is getting the first load on laundry in, he settles on an Ace Ventura movie. He thinks he most likely picked this because Eddie’s either gonna hate it, or use it to make fun of his fashion sense. Either way he’s looking forward to it.

“Hey does pizza sound good to you?” Richie asks Eddie as he emerges from the laundry room.

“Uh… yeah, sound great. Just don’t get any with pineapple, it’s fucking disgusting.”

“Yeah, fruit on pizza. The world's most heinous crime.”

Forty-five later they’re sitting on the couch, watching Ave Ventura and eating half Hawaiian half pepperoni pizza, much to Eddie’s disgruntlement.

Richie was right in the sense that Eddie would make fun of him during the movie, and he fucking loved it. What he didn’t account for however was Eddie leaning over and resting his head on his shoulder about halfway through the movie. Richie had immediately tensed under the touch, causing Eddie to quickly sit back up and look at him.

A look of mild panic sets into Eddie’s features as he begins talking fast as lightning. “Is this okay? I know we did this when we watched movies as kids, but I guess I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Eds it okay. Just caught me by surprise is all. By all means, lean away.” He knows it’s selfish to tell Eddie that it’s okay, but he just can’t help it, he wants it so bad.

Eddie immediately relaxes and gives him one of the foreign soft smiles before snuggling down into him. Richie in the meanwhile tries his hardest not to tense, and not to get a hard on. They stayed like that for the rest of the movie, and for the entirety of the one they put on after that.

Sadly all good things must come to an end, as after the second movie Eddie announces that it’s probably time for bed and starts to get up.

Richie can’t help feeling sad at the loss of touch. “Awww come on. Just one more. Pretty please with sugar on top.” He flashes Eddie his biggest puppy dog eyes.

Eddie crosses his arms as he looks down at Richie. “Your mediocre pleas won’t work on me.”

“Pretty please with cocaine on top.”

Eddie snorts. “If sugar didn’t work on me, cocaine definitely isn’t going to.” He offered Richie a hand. “Come on, Dr.Richardson said it was important for you to get more sleep that usual.”

Richie sighed and grabbed onto Eddie’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up. “Alrighty, she wins I suppose. Off to bed with us.”

Eddie helps Richie up the stairs and to his room before telling him to go brush his teeth or something while he gets both of their clean sheets from the dryer. Richie actually does just that, he winces when he bends over to spit into the sink, but other than that things go smoothly. Eventually Eddie comes back with the clean sheets and makes his bed for him despite his protests that he could do it himself. When he’s done he wished Richie a good night before going to make his own bed.

Richie is out like a light the second he hits the sheets, which is a little surprising seeing how ready he was to stay up for another movie. He can’t help but smile as he thinks about how Eddie was right as the world fades to black.

~*~

The first thing he noticed was that his entire fucking body hurt, head included. The next thing he noticed is that someone was over top of him saying something. He tries to focus.

It was Eddie over top of him. He looked so happy, so proud of himself. “Yeah yeah there he is buddy! Hey Richie listen, I think I got it man! I think I killed it! I did-”

Warm blood splattered across his face. A needle-like claw was skewered through the very center of Eddie’s chest. Eddie let out a small gasp as he looked down at himself, before looking back up at Richie with a painfully sad expression.

“Richie.” He sounded like he was in so much pain. He sounded so fucking hurt.

“Eddie!” Richie couldn’t help but let his name fall from his mouth as the claw began to lift him into the air.

He was violently shook side to side before being tossed from the skewer into a hole in the cistern wall. A horrible thumping sound audible with each tumble he took.

Richie couldn’t get up fast enough. He all but fell scrambling to get over to Eddie before anything else had a chance to hurt him. The others followed quickly behind.

When they arrived Eddie told them how to kill it, so the others left. Left him alone with Richie, left him behind.

He tried so fucking hard to keep Eddie alive. He didn’t leave his side, he put pressure on the wound, he talked to keep him awake. He did it all fucking right! So why did Eddie stop talking mid way through the sentence he was trying to force out. ‘Richie, you know I’ve always-’. He did everything fucking right! So why did he die!?

They had dragged him out of there. They made him leave Eddie in the dirty dark sewer. They all fucking made him leave Eddie in there alone, and then they all went to the fucking quarry like nothing was wrong! Like everything was fucking fine! It wasn’t fine! EDDIE WAS FUCKING DEAD!

Suddenly the world changed. Richie was sitting up in his bed, in the dark, alone, and coated in sweat. He slipped his fingers into his hair and gripped tightly. Trying to do something, anything, to bring the world back into focus. Tears were streaming down his face as he shook with silent sobs, his throat was hoarse, probably from screaming. He couldn’t help but bring his knees up as he tried to fold himself into the smallest ball possible.

The world around him comes into focus just a little bit more, as he can hear the door slamming open, and he is able to notice the light flickering on. What he wasn’t able to notice was Eddie talking to him, asking what happened.

Richie curled in on himself tighter as he felt a weight sink into the bed at his feet. A reassuring hand came to rest on his knee.

“Richie, can you hear me? Are you okay.” Finally able to hear Eddie’s voice, he locked onto it like a beacon.

Richie manages to uncurl himself slightly and fall into Eddie’s waiting arms. He continues to sob as Eddie tucks his head under his chin and rubs reassuring circles on his back.

“Hey Richie, you’re okay. It was just a bad dream, you're okay.” His voice is barely there, as though he was trying to coax a small animal out of hiding.

Richie stays like this in Eddie’s arms for a while, until he finally manages to calm him sobbing and somewhat normalize his breathing. He shifts in Eddie’s lap to get a more comfortable angle on the hug.

“Hey you back with me?” He asks into Richie’s ear.

“Yeah I’m here,” he mumbles into Eddie’s shirt.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” His voice is calm and patient.

“Deadlights,” he says simply. “I don’t really want to give you the recap.” He doesn’t want to spend any more time thinking about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t flipped them, if he hadn’t reacted soon enough.

Eddie hums a tone of acknowledgement and continues to rub circles into his back. After a while he does speak. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah…” With that Eddie unlatches himself from Richie and starts to leave the bed, but Richie catches his hand before he can move away entirely. “Can you stay?” Richie’s voice is nearly inaudible.

When he doesn’t get a response right away he allows himself to look up at Eddie. He can see him visibly swallow a lump in his throat. “Yeah, of course I’ll stay Rich.” He moves to turn off the light before crawling into the bed next to Richie.

Despite his better judgement the second Eddie is in the bed he carefully turns onto his side and pulls Eddie into his chest, and Eddie lets him. He just needs to feel him alive, feel him breathing. Eddie must understand this in some way, because he returns the embrace and tells Richie it’s okay. And he feels like it is okay.

They both fall asleep almost instantly. Lulled by each others breathing and warmth. No more nightmares are had that night.

~*~

Waking up that morning felt like a dream, even though the night before was a literal nightmare. When he opened his eyes Eddie was overjoyed to find he was still in Richie’s arms. Only now instead of being completely wrapped in his embrace, he finds Richie has one arm thrown over his side, and the other is gripping the front of his shirt, almost like he’s subconsciously refusing to let Eddie leave him. It makes his heart surge with affection for the other man.

Eddie is more than content to just lay there soaking in the moment, so he does. Even when Richie starts to fidget he fights the urge to panic and put some space between them in favor of just staying there. And when Richie opens his eyes and looks down at him with the mild panic he had felt earlier he can’t help but smile.

“Good morning. Are you feeling better?”

Richie’s face melts and he returns the smile, moving to pull Eddie in closer. “Yeah,” he mumbles into his hair.

They stay like that for a few minutes, warm and content in each other's company, that is until Richie breaks the silence.

“Do you want breakfast?”

In all honesty the only thing Eddie wants is to stay like this for the next several hours, but he doesn’t want to make Richie uncomfortable. “Yeah, breakfast sounds good.”

Reluctantly Eddie gets out of bed and helps Richie up, before helping him to the kitchen.

The second they’re in the kitchen Richie opens his mouth. “Huh, I just realized that we forgot to go shopping yesterday.”

Yesterday was so busy the concept of groceries had completely slipped his mind. “I guess we’ll need to get that done today.”

“Hey, how about we just go out for breakfast, we can get groceries afterwards. I know this little diner, about four minutes by car. Their pancakes are good enough to get you to sell your soul to the chef.”

“Is that what happened to it? You traded it for some pancakes?”

Something seemed to glint in Richie’s eye. “Trust me, it’s long gone. I sold it to your mother in order to convince her to top me for the first time.”

He groaned. “Shut the fuck up. First of all, don’t talk about my mother. Second of all those jokes don’t work anymore dickwad!”

“No matter how gay I may be, there will always be room in my heart for you mother.”

Eddie just rolled his eyes and helped Richie back up the stairs so they could change their clothes and his bandages, and brush their teeth.

After what is approximately for-fucking-ever they finally manage to get to the diner, and try some of these “orgasmic” pancakes. And as much as he hates to admit it to Richie, they are really fucking good pancakes, like really good. Though they would be better if Richie kept his hands to himself and didn’t keep trying to steal his grapes. If he wanted grapes he should’ve gotten the fruit side.

When they’re just finishing up their pancakes a teenage girl, no older than seventeen, approaches their table.

“Are you Richie Tozier?” She asks, catching their attention.

Richie quickly swallows his bite and plasters on a big smile, surprisingly genuine. “The one and only. What can I do you ya miss?”

“Oh… well I’m just kind of a big fan and I wanted to see if it was you. I was also wanting to ask what happened at that one show? You kind of bombed and then disappeared for like a month.” While she seemed to be trying to be polite Eddie couldn’t help thinking that it was none of her fucking business what Richie does.

“Always a joy to meet a fan. About the last show, I had a bit of a family matter, I got the call right before the show, so a lot was on my mind. And as for the whole “disappearing act”, I got into an accident, so I’ve been recovering. They’ll be more details about the whole thing posted on my twitter soon.” After Richie finishes all of this the girl continues to talk, and Richie nods along. At one point however he glances over at Eddie and gets to see him glaring daggers at the girl.

Eventually she walks away and Richie turns to him. “Who the fuck shit in your coffee?”

“She was being nosy. It’s none of her fucking business what you do,” he hisses as to not be overheard by the girl who’s at a nearby table.

“Well it comes with being considered famous.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse. People deserve their fucking privacy, famous or not.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right about that.” Richie studies Eddie for a moment. “But imagine how fucking bad the whole privacy thing is gonna get after I come out thought.”

“Well they can all go fuck themselves!” Eddie says probably a little bit too loudly, as a moment later the waitress walks over and hands them their bill without even asking if they’re finished. They quickly pay before heading back to the house.

When they get back inside Eddie orders Richie to go sit down while he does some cleaning. He shouldn’t be moving around too much just yet, and any scrubbing or dusting could definitely mess something up.

So Richie sits down on the couch while he tries to dig as much cleaning supplies from the entryway closet as possible.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” Richie asks from the couch. Of course he asks again, fucker cares too much.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. This place is barely lived in as it is.” Eddie tried to ignore the way Richie grimaces at the comment. He makes a mental note to order something to brighten up the place that Richie might actually enjoy.

In the end he made quick work of dusting, sweeping, and vacuuming. And when he was done he plopped himself down on the couch next to Richie and immediately curled into his side like the night before. This time Richie didn’t flinch, but he did let out a shaky breath. He counted that as a win. Richie would tell him if he was uncomfortable right?

Before Eddie could dwell on his thoughts any longer Richie spoke up. “Do you want to like actually do anything while you’re here? Like go to the beach or something? See Hollywood?”

“Personally I think tourist spots are overrated, way too many people. But if you had something in mind I’d be willing, just not for a while cause your ass shouldn’t be moving too much yet.”

Out of the corner of his eye Eddie can see a warm smile take over Richie’s face. “Yeah, I can think of a few things we could do.”

Eddie doesn’t press, he’s content to simply sit there with Richie watching TV for the time being.

A bit before lunch Eddie manages to convince himself to stop snuggling with Richie so he can get the grocery shopping out of the way. The sooner he gets it done, the sooner he can get back to Richie and spend time with him without any immediate tasks looking over his head.

While out shopping he decides that even though he doesn’t want to think about the immediate tasks at hand, he should probably think about the long term ones. So he makes a list of things he needs to get done. Emphasis on the needs part.

Divorce Myra

Eddie walks down the cereal aisle and picks out a few options that look like they won’t send Richie back into a coma. Maybe he grabs one sugary one, just as a little treat. But to counteract the sugary cereal he picks up one carton of almond milk, and another of low fat milk.

2. Get his job transferred to LA

Should he get cheese? Probably. They probably need butter too. He’s really fucking wishing that he and Richie made a list. What kind of meat does Richie like? Growing up he liked ham, but maybe that changed. He grabs the ham. He grabs two loaves of whole grain bread, better safe than sorry.

3. Confess to Richie after he’s well enough that it wouldn’t be inconvenient if he decided to kick him out

Should he get any alcohol? Richie most likely has whiskey with how he was drinking it at the town house. But he probably doesn’t have any wine for cooking, he better grab a bottle.

4. Have an apartment selection available in case Richie ends of hating him

What are the chances that Richie has even seen a vegetable in the last twenty years? He grabs practically every fruit and vegetable that he knows the taste of. They can use them in smoothies or something if they can’t think of anything to use them for.

5. Come out as gay to Richie and the rest of the losers

Maybe number five should be higher up on the list, same with number four. But it’s fine, he can workshop it later.

He adds a few more organic tomatoes to the cart before heading for the checkout.

When Eddie gets back he can’t help but smile when he sees Richie passed out on the couch with the TV still playing. He needs the rest, so he walks over and turns off the episode of ‘The Great British Baking Show’ he’s part way through.

Eddie slowly puts away the groceries so as to not make any sounds loud enough to wake Richie up. Once he’s done he quietly creeps onto the couch, and he can’t help it but to cuddle up against Richie. He wanted to enjoy it while he was able.

He decides to pull out his phone and text the losers. He takes a picture of him poking Richie in the face before sending it to the group chat.

Eddie: Just finished shopping, came back to find Richie passed out on the couch with the great British baking show playing on the TV.

Mike: How’s he doing?

Eddie: Honestly better than he was in the hospital. I think he’s happy to be home. He’s a little tired though.

Bev: I can see that 😴

Stan: Give him a wet willy for me next time you find him passed out somewhere

Eddie: My fingers will not be going inside his ears!

Ben: Be nice Stan

Bill: Say hi to Richie for me when he wakes up

Eddie: 👍

A moment later Eddie gets a message in a group chat that appears to be him, Stan, and Beverly.

Stan: Please tell me you are going to get your act together soon

Eddie: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Bev: 🙄 Just tell him at some point

Bev: I don’t think you’ll regret it

Eddie: I’ll think about it.

He doesn’t need to think about it, because he already knows he will do it at some point. Just when Richie is better. He doesn't need to read anymore, so he lays his phone down on the coffee table and gets up to make them lunch. He ends up throwing together two ham and cheese sandwiches that are overstuffed with lettuce. He walks back over to the couch, bringing the sandwiches with him.

“Hey Rich, wake up. It’s lunch time.” He doesn’t move, so Eddie sets the plates down on the table and sits next to him. Setting his hand on his shoulder he gives him a little shake. “Richie wake up.” After a few more tries Richie stirs.

“W’ time is it?” Richie asks groggily.

“It’s lunch time. I got us food, so how about you wake up a little bit and eat.”

“Mmm ‘kay,” he mumbles and he rubs at his eyes under his glasses. Eventually he appears to become coherent enough to register his surroundings. “Oh hey, you made us sandwiches?” He sounds a little surprised.

“Yes I made sandwiches. What’s the big deal?”

“Well I was kind of expecting you to make some sort of fancy low carb vegan meal or something.” He picks up the sandwich and takes a bite.

“If I’m being entirely honest, sandwiches are about the only thing I can make. Myra banned me from the kitchen. Something about it being her duty to provide for me and what not.” Now that he’s saying it out loud he realizes how weird it sounds.

“Not to worry my dear Spaghetti, I can be your new house wife. I picked up quite a few skills in the kitchen fending for myself in college.”

“Oh I doubt that, but if you’re being honest I expect you to show me at some point.”

Richie’s smile could light up the whole world. “Alright, I’ll make dinner.” Eddie nods in agreement as he takes another bite of his sandwich. At that moment Richie decides to reach for his phone that was face down on the table. Seeing the new notifications he opens up the group chat.

“Hey! Did you take this while I was sleeping?” Richie asked, turning his phone to face Eddie.

Eddie tried to cover his smile. “Maybe, but you have no proof!”

“I literally have photographic evidence. How could you attack me in my own home!?” Richie brought a hand to his chest, miming an offended expression. At this point covering his smile had proven useless.

“Trust me, I think the court will side with me when I tell them you faked it.”

“And do tell why you think that is.” Richie leaned into his space, face only a few inches away from his out, immediately turning his mind to mush.

“Uhhhh, because I’m believable?” Eddie offered.

Richie returned to his own space. “Sure, you totally sound believable,” he responded sarcastically before shoving the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.

“Fuck you, and also don’t do that! You’ll choke and then I’ll have to figure out where to hide the body. Better yet I’ll just collect the insurance.”

Richie tried to respond around the food in his mouth, but it was no use.

Eddie simply rolled his eyes and grabbed both of their empty plates, rinsing them off before loading them into the dishwasher. When Eddie returns he can’t help but stare at Richie. His curls wild from the nap, eyes heavy with sleep, clothes completely frumpled. He shouldn’t look good, but he does.

Richie notices him staring. He cocks an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “See something there Spaghetti?” God was he that obvious? “In your dreams Tozier.” He pauses for s second. “Hey, can I borrow your laptop? I’m probably needing to email my lawyer, and my boss.”

“Oh yeah, sure thing. It’s in the office down the hall.” Richie gestures in the general direction of the hall.

“Thanks.” He heads down and eventually after two doors find the office. It’s a small cluttered room. Two bookshelves line the walls, overflowing with various papers and books. Up against the wall left of the door is a ridiculously large desk. The kind of desk that a CEO would have in a cheesy drama. One half of the desk is taken up by a large monitor, the other has the laptop, teetering dangerously close to the edge. If he had slammed the door open it definitely would’ve fallen.

He makes his way over to the desk and grabs the laptop and the power cable before leaving the room. He shut the door carefully in case anything else is pulling a Mufasa. He makes his way back to the living room, setting the laptop down carefully, away from an edge, before finding an outlet to plug the cable into.

“You do know that your laptop was about to fall off of the desk right?” he says to Richie, who had turned back on ‘The Great British Baking Show’.

“Maybe I just had a third sense to leave it like that. Perhaps I had a vision of your arrival and decided to make your life just a little bit more stressful, one small thing at a time.”

If that were the case he probably wouldn’t have been so shocked when he had offered to stay with him. “If you weren’t injured already I would hurt you.”

“Is that a promise?” Richie waggled his eyebrows.

“You are an insufferable human being, and I don’t know why I agreed to put myself through this willingly.” He knows exactly why he agreed.

“Eh, you love me.” He did.

“Don’t push your luck.”

He spends the next few hours on the couch with Richie. He decides to watch a few episodes with him, and curl up on his side before getting to work. He sits up and opens the laptop. He sends his lawyer an email discussing the divorce proceeding, and the specifics of their prenup (number one on his list started). Next he shoots his boss an email (a few emails) informing her of his new residents and that he plans on staying in LA, he asks if it would be possible for a transfer (number two on his list, also started). As much as he wants to spend time with Richie, he doesn’t think that he could handle sitting around all day. It would almost be too much to be around Richie all the time and not get to have him.

He thinks about looking for some apartments (number four on his list). The idea of leaving Richie makes him feel sick, but he should be prepared for the inevitable. He shoots Richie a quick glance, he’s completely enamored with the TV. He lets out a small breath before googling ‘apartments in LA’. The second he has a realtors page open the episode comes to an end and Richie turns to him, so he shuts the laptop in a hurry.

“You want dinner soon?”

“Umm sure.” He’s honestly scared to see what Richie has in store. If his previous cooking abilities as kids were anything to go by, he should probably have the fire department on speed dial.

“Neato Spaghetti-o, just help me up off this here couch and I’ll get to the cookin,” he says playfully, but after a moment it’s clear that he does indeed need help getting off of the couch.

Eddie sets the laptop back on the table and goes to help Richie to his feet. “Come on you big oaf, up and at ‘em.” Once he’s up he gives Eddie a small salute before sauntering off towards the kitchen. How the fuck does he manages to make that so endearing?

Eddie spends the next half hour or so looking through over priced apartment listings while Richie cooks. Most of the ones he sees are more modern styled, all cubical, with whites and grays. They all feel weirdly lonely, despite the apartments as a whole looking very similar to Richie’s own house. He wonders if that’s just because he knows Richie wouldn’t be there.

“Hey Spaghetti, dinner’s ready,” Richie calls a little too happily. What is he up to?

He shut the laptop, enough of that for today. “Alright I’m coming.”

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the shit eating grin he saw on Richie’s face when he walked into the room. On the table there were two plates of spaghetti and a large bowl of Caesar salad between the two.

“Oh I should’ve fucking known! You’ve been calling me Spaghetti only all fucking day.”

Richie smiled and carefully pulled out the chair for him. “Your seat monsieur.” Eddie rolled his eyes and took the seat.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was really fucking good. He didn’t even know spaghetti could taste that good. Theoretically speaking, if he was sentenced to death, Richie’s spaghetti with homemade meat sauce would be a contender for his final. He can tell Richie knows he thinks this from the smirk he’s giving him, but he won’t give him the verbal satisfaction.

“This salad is really good,” he says through a mouthful of noodles.

Richie snorts. “Yeah, sure, the salad. Honestly for the salad the secret is in the lime juice. Gives it that extra little kick.”

Eddie eyes him skeptically before stabbing a piece of the lettuce and shoving it in his mouth. He practically has to hold back a moan. The fucking salad has more flavor than anything Myra made for him in the last five years. The whole meal Richie couldn’t stop smiling at him enjoying his food, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, because he smiled right back.

After the meal they did the dishes together. Which shouldn’t really be anything special, it’s just dishes, but here at Richie’s house they did them together, and it was so domestic that it hurt. Richie scrubbed the dishes, saying he didn’t want to worry Eddie’s little hypochondriac mind over touching gross food bits. It was so fucking thoughtful, even if he didn’t mind scrubbing the dished clean. So instead he was on loading duty.

After he started the dishwasher the rest of the evening was spent together on the couch. How they kept ending up here Eddie had no idea, but he fucking loved it. Being able to cuddle up against Richie like when they were younger, and soak up the affection. For the past twenty-fiveish years the only physical contact he really had was handshakes with clients and suffocating contact with his mom and wife. But this didn’t feel suffocating at all. It was warm, comforting, and it was Richie.

Richie made him feel brave. Brave enough that when he helped Richie up the stairs he “helped” him all the way to his room. After they entered the room Richie let go of his arm and began walking, pausing when he realized Eddie wasn’t leaving. Richie turns and gives him a quizzical look.

“What?” Richie asked.

Eddie takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. You’re braver than you think. “Do you want me to stay?” Richie looks shocked, so he continues. “It seemed to help your nightmares last night, me being here that is. And it’s kind of weird not being when you’re not there, after being together at the hospital for so long.”

Richie looked awe-struck. He nodded and cleared his throat. “Uh yeah, sure yeah. Sounds good man.” He sounded strained

Eddie ignored it in favor of hurrying to his own room to brush his teeth and internally freak out over his boldness. He couldn’t help but grip the sink and look at himself in the mirror, look at the scar. His thoughts drifted to everything they had been through; fighting a demon space clown, forgetting each other, killing said clown, and so, so much more. So it was fine right? Because Richie had said it was okay, and surely after everything they had been through he would tell him if it wasn’t okay. Right?

When he returned to the room Richie was already laying down in the bed. He turned off the lights and climbed under the covers next to him, far enough away that they wouldn’t accidentally touch. Even though cuddling on the couch was fine, and they had done it on the bed last night, something just felt too much about doing it right now.

Almost as though Richie can sense his tension he defuses the situation by talking to Eddie about everything and nothing at the same time. He never realized how much he had missed the Trashmouth after he left. Soon they fell asleep, a chasm of space between them.

Part way through the night Eddie woke to find Richie beginning to turn and let out fitful breaths in his sleep. So Eddie did the only thing his sleep ridden brain could think to do and he crossed the chasm. Wrapping Richie in his arms, he whispered quiet it’s okays into his ear until he calmed and sleep dragged Eddie back under.

When Eddie woke again in the morning this time he was greeted by and awake Richie tightening their embrace. When he saw that Eddie was awake he didn’t mention the lack of space he simply smiled that warm smile and asked him to help him get up so he could make them breakfast.

~*~

The next few days for Eddie were spent emailing his lawyer and contacting his new boss. His old boss had been more than happy to give him the transfer understanding the situation at hand, and his new boss was more than happy to let him begin work when Richie wouldn’t need his help when moving around and lifting things. All around item one is off to a great start, and number two can be checked off.

As for number four, he doesn’t look at anymore apartments.

#reddie fanfic #reddie #fic #My fic #exchange #derpstuff

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derpyanimatesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

A little bit longer 2/4

Alrighty, here is chapter two of my fic for the IT prompts fall 2020 exchange. This fic is for @thoughtfullyyoungduck @itfandomprompts

Ao3 Word Count: 6708

Richie was floating. Or at least that’s what he thought he was doing. Maybe floating wasn’t really the right word, he was just kind of hanging out in this big white space. It was kind of relaxing. He would hear voices murmuring, they weren’t creepy or anything and sometimes he could catch a few words. Sometimes while he was laying there in the big open space a giant fucking turtle would just kind of go by. He wasn’t sure what that was all about but it sure was cool. He didn’t really know how long he had been there, and honestly he didn’t really care. He was content with his weird open space vacation. But sadly all good things must come to an end.

One moment he was relaxing in his big open space, the next the turtle floated by and actually stopped above him. Then it did something even weirder. It looked down at him.

“ It’s time you woke up,” said an ominous disembodied voice. Was it the turtle?

His whole vision went black and the murmurs got louder. He felt like he had aged a hundred years. His relaxing peaceful bliss was gone, and now everything hurt or just felt out of reach. He tries to ignore everything and go back to his relaxing state. The murmurs stopped. Instead they were replaced by a warm pressure on his hand and a single pleading voice.

“Come on Rich. I need you to wake up. The other losers are leaving soon, I’m not sure about Mike though. Ben, Bev, and Stan all have flights out of here, and Bill already left. It’s not fair if you make them get flights back here just to come see you.” The familiar voice begins to let out soft sobs. “We all need you to wake up. I need you to wake up. I need you…” The warm pressure on his hand tightened further. “I need you…” Eddie.

Oh shit that was Eddie. Eddie was with him. Eddie needed him. He needed to let Eddie know he was there. The grip on his hand tightens further, so what can he do besides grip back?

Eddie lets out a small gasp. “Oh shit Richie! Richie can you hear me?!”

“Yeah Eds, you don’t need to be so loud,” he choked out, voice rough from disuse. He can feel quick fumbling as Eddie puts something on his face. Oh yea, my glasses.

Richie turns his head towards the voice and opens his eyes. The first thing he sees is Eddie's giant doe eyes shining with tears, looking right at him. It’s a beautiful sight. The next thing he notices is that Eddie looks like absolute shit. The man looks like he hasn’t seen a bed in weeks. He has massive bags under his eyes and his clothes are completely wrinkled. Overall he looks very unEddie like.

He opens his mouth before he has a chance to stop it. “Jesus Christ Eds, what happened to you? You look like you haven't slept in weeks. Are you okay?”

Eddie lets out a wet laugh. “Wow thanks. You don’t look so hot yourself. And also why the hell are you asking if I’m okay? You’re the one who got fucking stabbed and has been stuck in a coma.” Eddie’s clearly trying to play down his concern, but the whole living dead look is a bit of a give away.

Eddie’s resolve crumbles and tears streak down his cheeks. “You know after you passed out and we got to the hospital, you were in surgery for about eight hours. We didn’t know if you were going to make it.” More tears fall and he grips Richie’s hand tighter. “You did make it though. But you had to be a fucking dramatic asshole and make us all wait a week for you to wake up.”

All Richie can do is stare at Eddie and grip his hand back. Had he always been this worried about him? Had he always cared so much? Maybe older Eddie just had a different way of showing it.

Eddie continues. “You took so long that Bill had to leave to go finish his movie. He’s been checking in every day though, we have a group chat. And your fucking manager Steve showed up yesterday. He didn’t even bother stopping by today before he left to Hollywood, or where ever the fuck he works.”

“That bastard,” Richie deadpans.

Eddie can’t help but laugh. It’s a wonderful sound. “Yeah that’s what I thought. Good thing you woke up when you did, now you won’t miss Ben, Bev, or Stan. They’re all out at lunch with Mike right now.” Eddie stops, looking like he can’t think of anything else to say to catch him up.

They stare at each other, and Richie uses this to get another look at Eddie. He just looks so broken and lost. Rumpled clothes, hair barely smoothed into position. His face is red and puffy, it looks like he replaced sleeping with a combination of crying and a caffeine drip.

“What about you?” Richie asks carefully.

Eddie looks a little confused. “What do you mean?”

“You told me about the other losers, and their plans for getting out of here. Hell you even told me about what my manager has been up to. But what about you? What did you do while I was out?”

Eddie looks downright sad. “I mean… I’ve been here. I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon either.”

“Wait… have you been here the whole time?” Richie asks. Why would Eddie do that for him?

“Well… Yeah. I guess I left a few times to get in a shower. And at one point I went on a walk with Stan. Other than that I’ve been here, waiting for you to wake up,” he said the last part quietly

Richie is stunned. “Why?”

More tears fill his eyes. Fuck . He hated it when Eddie cried. Eddie grips his hand tighter, almost crushing it. Richie can’t bring himself to mention it.

“I couldn’t leave you alone. Not even for one minute… I guess I just didn’t want you to wake up alone and wonder where we were, or if we had forgotten you.”

Richie doesn’t know what to do with the information that the love of his life apparently refused to leave his side. His little hypochondriac who fucking hates hospitals stayed in one for days with him. What was he supposed to do with that? He needed to say something. Anything.

Eddie didn’t give him the chance. “It felt so wrong to not have you here with us. No one was there to crack any jokes, or to call me Eds, or to make us smile. It was like a fucking funeral without you here man. I don’t even want to know what it would’ve been like if you didn’t make it.” Eddie sounds so serious and sincere, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

Richie barely has any time to process at all before the door opens and the losers all walk in. Eddie dropped his hand like it burned him.

Beverly is through the door first. She’s holding a bag up near her face. “Hey Eddie, thought we could get you a salad today. Want any-” She drops the bag. “HOLY SHIT RICHIE!” She all but topples Eddie running in to give Richie a hug.

Richie gladly embraces her. “Hey Bevvie. You’d think I died or something with that reaction.”

She rolled her eyes. “Too soon Tozier. Too soon.” Eventually she steps back to let everyone have their turn. They all went in for a quick hug, not wanting to fuck up his IV.

Stan was the last one. “Glad you’re awake man. It was fucking rude of you to keep us all waiting like that.”

Richie chuckles. “Sorry Stan the man. I just couldn’t help but enjoy the beauty sleep.”

Stan pulls back and squints at his face. “Yeah I can tell that you sure needed it. In fact I think you might want to go back to sleep light right now.”

Richie can’t help but smile. “You wound me.” God he didn’t realize he had missed them wherever he was.

They all talk for a few minutes. Each loser gave Richie a more detailed version of what Eddie had told him.

“Not to interrupt but did anyone let Big Bill know I’m up?” he asks, interrupting Ben’s story on his current project.

“Oh shit that’s right.” Mike reaches into his pocket and whips out his phone, passing it over to Richie. “I think you should just face time him.”

Richie chuckles as it rings through. Bill isn’t looking at the phone when he picks up, instead he’s focused on something off screen. “Wow Billiam. I take the time to call and you don’t even grace me with eye contact? How rude.”

Hearing Richie’s voice Bill’s head snaps to the screen. “Holy fuck Richie you’re up? I’m booking a flight right now.” He hangs up.

“Good talk Bill.” He chuckles, guess he’ll have to try again later.

Now that the calls out of the way conversation flows easily. No more awkward pauses, no more deadly silence. Just smooth conversation.

Eddie speaks up. “Did anyone tell Dr.Richardson that Richie woke up?” They all stop talking and turn to Eddie looking vaguely alarmed, Richie didn’t seem to care though.

“Huh, kind of ironic that I, Richard, ended up with one Dr.Richardson looking after me. Must be fate. Maybe we can compare dick sizes?”

“Beep-beep Richie. I don’t think she would be into that,” Beverly responds.

“Eh you never know, she might have a dick.”

Stan sighs and heads for the door. “I’ll go get her. Anything to get me out of here. I forgot how much of a trashmouth he is. Why did I miss you again?”

Richie smiles. “Aww because you love me.”

Despite himself Stan smiles as he slips into the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”

When Stan returns with Dr.Richardson quick introductions are made before she gets to work. She spends the next thirty or so minutes checking his vitals and responses. She also asks him several questions trying to look for any gaps in his memory. Last but not least she checks on his wound.

She carefully unwrapped his bandages. “It’s healing up fairly nicely all things considered.”

Richie winced as soon as he saw the gnarled skin. “If that’s nice I don’t want to see what bad looks like.”

She leaves after telling him to call if he needs anything, and to make sure he gets plenty of rest. Richie joked about how he thought that was what the coma was for. She didn’t find it very funny.

The rest of the visiting hours are spent chatting. And when it comes time for the losers to leave it’s a lot less bitter sweet that Richie expected. It’s just plain old sweet, with promises of being in first thing tomorrow. Richie waves them all out the door, all of them but Eddie that is. Eddie is still glued into the seat next to him.

He waits a moment and looks to Eddie, his gaze if fixed on his hands. “Are you leaving?”

Eddie looks up at him, face indiscernible. “Do you want me to,” he asked quietly.

Richie pauses for a moment and tries to search Eddie’s face for anything, anything at all. He looks nervous. “No. I want you to stay.”

With those words Eddie’s face instantly relaxes. “Okay I’ll stay.” He looks back down at his hands. They look empty. He can’t help but wonder if they feel empty to Eddie.When he woke up he had clung to his hand like a life line, but after the losers walked in he had let go… They weren’t here now.

Richie extends his hand towards Eddie, stopping in front of his own, palm up in a silent offering. Eddie immediately takes it in his and gives a light squeeze. It’s so painfully familiar.

“Have you been sleeping in that chair every night?” Richie asks.

“Yeah..” Eddie breaths out.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. And you’re an idiot if you think I trusted the Derry hospital staff to keep you safe. They could’ve wheeled you off and lobotomized you while we were living it up at the townhouse.”

Richie takes a moment to just look at him, to look at the bags under his eyes. He speaks before he can stop himself. “Do you want to sleep in the bed with me? My ten minutes have been up for sometime now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “This isn’t the hammock dickwad.” Despite the name he still gets up and nudges Richie over a bit before laying down on his side. Head next to Richie’s, hands still entwined.

Richie takes a minute to just enjoy the silence of the room, and the sensation of Eddie's body touching his. When he turns to look at Eddie he’s already fast asleep. He must’ve been so tired from living in that chair. He shakes his head fondly before laying back and letting sleep consume him.

~*~

They both must’ve been pretty tired. Richie knew they had slept through the morning nurses coming in, because when he opened his eyes a tray of food sat on the small end table next to the bed. Not to mention the fact that all of the losers were currently gathered at the foot of his bed, all trying and failing to hide their smirks and laughter.

He quickly realizes that his hand is still entangled with Eddie’s, who is still cuddling him in his sleep. He can’t help the flush that flairs in his cheeks. Richie immediately drops Eddie’s hand, it falls limp onto the bed next to Eddie’s face.

“Do you guys even knock?” Richie asks. “Cause like I feel like this is an invasion of privacy. Aren't hospitals all about that shit?”

Stan rolls his eyes. “First of all, you dickwad, we did knock. Second of all you gave us all permission to be here.”

Richie’s blush increases as Eddie stirs next to him.

“Whatever,” Richie mumbles. “Just sit down and be quiet. I don’t think Eddie has slept in days.”

As they move to sit down Beverly speaks. “He hasn’t.” She then gives him a pointed look that makes him feel like she can see right into his very soul.

Of course once the losers are quiet and out of sight Eddie decides to wake up. Richie is reaching over and moving a strand of hair out of his face when he opens his eyes. He looks and Richie and smiles, and by god if that didn’t get his heart jumping. Sleepy Eddie is just so fucking cute, all messy hair and tired eyes.

The moment however is broken as Eddie realizes there is someone else in the room and practically vaults himself out of the bed, crashing to the floor. He quickly dusts himself off and slides into his usual chair. Once sitting he looks at the offending party, all of who are wearing giant smirks, except for Ben who looks concerned, what an angel.

“You okay Eddie?”

“Uh y-” he coughs to clear his throat. “Yeah, I’m okay.” If Richie didn’t know any better he would say that Eddie was blushing. He must just be flustered from having fallen out of the bed.

Mike coughed, probably to get the attention off of Eddie. “So, how are you feeling today Richie?”

“I mean, good besides the patchwork job on my side.” He gestured to his bandaged side before tossing his hands up in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture. “On the bright side, they got me on the good stuff so I don’t really feel it.”

Mike hums and nods before Beverly jumps in, an evil glint in her eyes.

“How’d you sleep?” She asks. Oh he knew exactly what she was trying to get at. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of working for it.

“I’ll have you know me and Eds were very comfortable.” “It’s Eds and I, and also not my name,” Eddie mumbled without looking up.

“I’m sorry Sargent grammar, my bad. Eds and I were of the utmost comfort in this crappy bed.” He smiled. God it was nice to have Eddie back in his life. Where else would he get someone to correct his grammar who he didn’t pay.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Will you two ever change?” He sounded annoyed, yet fond.

Richie couldn’t help but smile wider. He had his family back. “Never,” he promised.

Ben shared Richie’s smile as he spoke. “It’s great to have all of you guys back, I missed my family.”

Beverly learned into him and he slipped his arm around her shoulder, rubbing it in a comforting fashion. “I’m just glad we all made it.” She was a little misty eyed.

Richie couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. They were all so lucky to be alive. “Aww get over here Ringwald.” He opened his arms and pulled her into a tight hug when she came over. They stayed like that for a moment and she pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “Gasp, and here I thought we agreed to ‘Pretty Women’ rules. Better watch out Hanscome, or I’m coming for your lady!”

The others couldn’t help but chuckle; it was good to have him back. Eddie however looked confused.

“Okay, first of all you don’t say gasp out loud, that’s not how that works. It’s not a fucking onomatopoeia. Second of all what the fuck are ‘Pretty Women’ rules!?” He seemed to have gotten over his previous embarrassment in favor of back and forth with Richie.

Stan surprisingly spoke first. “Wait Eddie, have you never seen ‘Pretty Women’?”

“No. Should I have?”

“Eds! It’s a classic! How could you have not seen it!?”

“I’m going to have to agree with Richie on this one, even I've seen it,” Mike added

“Whatever, I actually have a very time consuming job,” Eddie muttered.

“Here Eddie, hand over your phone. We’re going to watch it right now.” Richie made grabby hands in his direction.

Eddie pulled back. “We are not going to watch a movie on my tiny ass phone screen! It’ll give us both a fucking headache!”

“It’s fine, just scoot your tiny ass closer and it’ll work!”

“Absolutely not!”

They ended up watching the movie. At first the other losers had all tried to crowd around to watch, but eventually they just settled on turning the volume up really loud.

~*~

“You guys go ahead, I wanted to talk to Richie,” Stan said as all the losers filtered out of the room, heading for some food at a place hopefully better than the cafeteria. They had even managed to get Eddie to join them, leaving Richie completely alone with someone other than Eddie for the first time since he woke up.

Richie eyed him as he sat down in Eddie’s chair and looked at him. He just kind of stared at Richie over for a minute. It was like he could see into his fucking soul, or at the very least his brain. Eventually he spoke.

“So you’re out in LA now?” Richie was a little shocked. He’d expected some sort of deep heart to heart, but they did have a lot to catch up on.

He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat before responding. “Uh yeah. Went out there for college and I guess I just kinda stuck around.”

“That Steve guy’s your manager right? Did Eddie tell you he showed up?” What was with all the short questions?

“Ah yes, good ol’ Steve. I met that fucker after I did some stand-up at a small club, been working with him ever since. And to answer your other basic ass question Eddie did inform me that he dropped by.”

Stan seemed to pick up speed a little bit. “You planning on going back to LA after this?”

“Yes.”

“Still have an ugly wardrobe full of those stupid Hawaiian shirts?”

“Yes.” Richie responded just as fast as the question was asked.

“Did you get one of those fancy ass rich people houses?” Stan was smirking when he asked this one.

“Oh don’t you know it.” He was getting a little bit fed up with the twenty questions.

“Are you still in heads over heels in love with Eddie?”

“Yes.” Wait… what? Fuck. “Wait… no I-” he stammered trying to get his footing, but Stan just gave him a look. “You fucker. You totally set me up”

Stan sighs and shakes his head. “And are you going to do anything about it this time around?”

He looked down at his hands, he picked at his cuticles. “Stan… You know I can’t. I can’t risk him leaving, not after I just got him back.” When he looked up he was met with a look of what could only be described as pure exasperation.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think he’s going to leave you for loving him. You didn’t see what he was like while you were out. He barely left your side, he barely slept. We practically had to force him to eat and talk to us, let alone leave your side long enough to take a shower. A fucking shower! Eddie Kaspbrak, the hypochondriac, was so determined to stay by your side that he wouldn’t take a shower.”

Richie looked startled. Each word felt like another skewer through the side. “I didn’t know it was that bad…”

Stan’s face softens a little, changing from looking like someone lecturing a misbehaving child, to someone trying to console a crying child. “Of course you didn’t know. The second you woke up it’s like someone flipped a switch.”

Richie looks doubtful. Eddie was still acting pretty weird.

Stan just looks annoyed that he doesn’t get whatever he’s trying to say. “Look, I bet my left testicle that if you told him he wouldn’t leave you.”

This startles a laugh out of Richie. “Look as much as I would absolutely love to take that win win of a bet, I just can’t risk losing him.”

Stan looks physically pained at this point, he chooses to let it go and change the subject. “So when are you getting out of here?”

Richie contemplates for a moment before answering. “I actually have no fucking clue. I kind of forgot to ask Dr. Dickson, the giant wound in my side was a little bit distracting.”

Stan just nods along. “Well make sure you ask her next time she’s in here.”

“Will do.” Richie gave a little salute before pausing. Clearly it was his turn to fill the silence. “Tell me about that lovely wife of yours.”

Stan smiles. He looks so happy at the mention of her that it almost hurts, just almost. “We met during college, at a party actually.”

“I can see it now, all the hot college party girls falling in line to get a piece of grandpa Uris and his sweater vests. Very sexy indeed.”

Stan punched him lightly in the arm, he probably would’ve hit harder if not for trying to not cause any more harm. “Dick. Anyway, before I knew it I had bought a small ring, and I was lucky enough that she said yes. Eventually we moved to Georgia and I got a job in accounting, while she got a job as a teacher.”

“As much I was to hear about your life story, I really do, but I asked about your wife,” Richie interrupted.

His entire face lit up, he’d never looked like that about anything other than birds. “She’s amazing. She put up with so much so that we could be together. And she was always willing to trust me, even when I couldn’t tell her why she should. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and I don’t think I’ve loved anyone more.”

Richie couldn’t help but match Stan’s smile as he spoke. He’d never sounded so happy before. “She sounds lovely, I can’t wait to meet her,” he said honestly.

“I think she would love all of you, you just might have to keep your trashmouth in check.”

Richie chuckles. “No promises.”

They talk for a few more minutes about everything and nothing at the same time. Richie talks about his ghost writers, and wanting to change his image. Stan talks about wanting to start a family. It’s good, it’s nice to just talk after all those years. Eventually the moment is broken when the losers walk back in, a sandwich in tow for Stan.

When Eddie comes into view he looks nervous. He’s eyeing the seat Stan is in, his seat. Stan notices immediately and nudges his head in Eddie’s direction, giving Richie an I told you so look as he gets up to let Eddie have it.

Richie can’t help but notice how his nerves seem to calm down the second he’s in the seat next to him. He can’t help but notice the way he immediately directs all of his attention towards Richie. He hates that he loves it, but he can’t help it, he’s always wanted all of Eddie’s attention for as long as he can remember. He was always trying to get under his skin, the teasing, the hammock.

When they make eye contact Richie lets a warm smile take over his face. Tone it down a bit Richie! “Did ya have a good lunch there Eds?”

He doesn’t mention the nickname. “I guess so. We ended up at Denny’s.”

“I’m shocked. Did you have the whole place fumigated and sanitized to make sure it was up to code? But hey, food safety code or not I bet it was better than the crappy food they have here.”

Eddie just shrugs. “No, I didn’t throw a hissy fit. And yeah, it was definitely better than the crappy food they have here.”

“Trust me, no amount of jello can make up for the other atrocities they have put on the tray before me.”

Richie expects Eddie to shoot back with something like ‘The way you worded that makes it sound like the food is a sacrifice’, or maybe ‘You’re an idiot if you think you can live off of only jello’. Instead Eddie just nods and smiles, looking at him like he hung the moon. That’s so unlike Eddie it almost scares him. Maybe Stan was onto something with the whole betting his left testicle thing.

~*~

That afternoon when Dr. Richardson makes her rounds, Richie makes sure to ask when he can finally be released from his sanitary prison.

“We’ll be removing your stitches sometime next week. After that we were planning on keeping you for about another week for observation and some minor physical therapy. After that we can transfer you over to your PCP and release you.” She paused, clearly waiting for him to acknowledge what she just said.

“Aww fuck yeah! Can’t wait to get the hell out of dodge. Not that I have anything against ya, I just fucking hate this town.” The look on her face tells him he may be a little too excited.

“There is a catch Mr. Tozier. Someone will need to stay with you for a while during your recovery, just so that you don’t do any heavy lifting, and to help you until your mobility increases.”

Better than being stuck here. “Well thanks doc for your help. I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiles and heads for the door, turning to him one last time before leaving. “Goodnight Richard .”

Richie cringes. “Oh she knows I hate that.” He turns to the losers, seeing if they also noticed what she had said. “She totally knows that I hate that.”

“Well I guess that it’s good news, I’ll be getting out of here soon.” He didn’t want to think about how much of a hassle it would be to get a live in nurse.

Mike shakes his head fondly. “Yeah, I think we heard.”

“Guess I better start looking for a maid or a nurse to help me out huh?”

Richie barely managed to finish the sentence before Eddie spoke up. “I’ll do it!”

Richie stares at him. “I’m sorry but I think I might still have a concussion, because I swear Eddie Spaghetti just said he’d play nurse for me.”

“Well I just think that I would probably be the best one to do it, seeing as I know how to wrap your bandages. Someone else might do them too loose, you don’t want bacteria getting in. Also you’ll probably fall down the stairs or something. Not to mention with your trashmouth the nurse will probably sue you for emotional damages,” he rambled.

“Hey Eds, slow down. I can’t ask you to ditch your wife to come ‘Nanny Mcphee’ my ass for a few weeks.”

He continues to ramble. “I don’t have a wife, or well at least I won’t soon. I asked for a divorce while you were in your coma. So staying with you would be a win win, I could sort my shit out, and you wouldn’t have to hire some poor soul to put up with you.”

Richie feels absolutely gobsmacked, he can’t help but look to see what the losers are thinking. They all look how he feels: shocked, confused, surprised, maybe not so much in love, but definitely the latter. “Okay, sounds good then. I guess I can put you up in a guest room, and you can make sure I don’t fall over dead doing something stupid.”

Stan is pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks like he’s ready to throw something. Beverly has a hand on his back, looking mildly sympathetic to his plight.

“It’s settled then, I’ll go back to LA with you,” Eddie said matter of factly. The discussion was closed.

Richie decided he wanted to get the focus off of him and Eddie so he turned to Ben. “By any chance could you get my phone. I usually call Mags and Went once a weekish, so that fact that I haven’t has probably freaked them the fuck out. I should probably let them know that I’m not dead, but also almost died.”

Ben blanched a little bit. “Oh god I don’t think any of us thought of that. Yeah I’ll bring it by tomorrow. Do you want the rest of your stuff here too?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks Ben, you’re a doll,” he said with a wink.

~*~

The next few days pass in a blur. Ben brought Richie and Eddie’s bags to the hospital room, meaning he now had social and career damage control to start on after being in a coma. Richie starts by contacting his parents and somehow manages to convince them that a) he’s okay, and b) they don’t need to come out to Maine. Steve also chats him up, figuring out how to spin his injury to cover his big fuck up at the last show. He plays more catch up with the losers, and Eddie still stays the night.

Eventually comes the bittersweet day when Ben, Bev and Stan all leave, only for Bill to show up. They all end up saying goodbye at the hospital since Richie can’t really leave yet. He’s going to miss them a whole fucking bunch, but at least they know they won’t forget.

Bill ended up deciding to stay only till the end of the week. He had offered to stay longer and take Richie back home when he was released, but they filled him in that Eddie had already filled that position, and he wasn’t planning on giving it up anytime soon. He had been a little shocked when Eddie first said that he was going to LA, but after explaining the whole ‘needing space from Myra’ thing he seemed to understand.

Once the basic fill in the blank questions are out of the way he spends the rest of his time just trying to fill the void with actual conversation.

“Hey Mikey?” Richie asks.

He looks up from his phone. “What’s up Rich?”

“What are you going to do once I get out of here?”

Mike looks a little confused. “What do you mean?”

“I think he means that once we're gone there’s nothing holding you here anymore,” Eddie answers.

“Oh… I didn’t really think about it. I guess I’ve been kind of preoccupied.”

“You still thinking about going to Florida?” Richie asks.

This question seems to kick his brain into gear. “I’m not sure. I think I want to go traveling, you know? See the world, really find out what’s out there before settling down some place. Maybe I’ll end up in Florida. Who knows?” He says this all with a smile on his face, for the first time since they saw him again, he actually looks carefree.

“Hey, good for you Mikey. Make sure to send loads of those annoying traveling pictures of landmarks and shit to the group chat.” Eddie makes a sound of agreement.

Bill breaks into the conversation. “Speaking of traveling, when do you think you’re going home? Did she give you a set date?”

“She said it would probably be about five days until I’m cleared to go. Then I’m dragging spaghetti’s ass with me to my sweet sweet party pad.” Richie shot Eddie a shit eating smirk.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Please don’t call it a party pad. And the first thing I’m doing when I get there is cleaning the whole fucking place top to bottom. Knowing you there’s probably month old pizza boxes and mold all over the place.”

“Eds I can assure you that you most likely won’t need to clean anything. I basically own nothing but a closet full of Hawaiian dad shirts and my furniture. I also have a cleaning service that drops by like once a month so it really should be fine.”

“I call bullshit! You had so much fucking stuff as a kid you couldn’t see the floor, or the walls of your room. I don’t expect your house to be any different,” Eddie shoots back.

Richie decided there was no point in debating this, he would see when they got there. In the meanwhile he might as well bring up his favorite part of the house. “I’ve got a pool you know. Eds maybe when we’re there you can take a chill pill and finally relax on a floaty or something, lower that good ol’ blood pressure.” Something weird happens to Eddie’s face when he finishes talking, but when he doesn’t respond Bill takes the opportunity to change the subject. He’ll ask him about it later, it’s probably nothing.

For the rest of the visiting hours Eddie’s weirdly quiet. He responds and jumps in when Bill and Mike are talking, but he seems to be avoiding talking when Richie brings something up. He waits for it to go away, but when it doesn’t he can’t help but bring it up the second Bill and Mike leave for the night.

“Eddie are you okay?” He asks. He waits for a response, he’s about to open his mouth to ask again when Eddie suddenly speaks.

“Am I too much?” He sounds scared.

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Did he do something? Is that why Eddie’s acting all weird.

Eddie looks so small in the plastic chair when he speaks again. “Am I smothering you? Do you need me to just like fuck off?”

Oh. Richie gets what’s going on. Fucking shit, when he told him to relax he must’ve thought he was acting like his mom, like Myra.

“Oh no Eds, you’re perfectly fine. You are in no way smothering me. In fact it means the absolute world to me that you’re here.” Richie takes his hand. “It means fucking everything that my Eddie Spaghetti is here to help me get back on my feet. I seriously don’t think that I could do this without you.”

He can tell that Eddie gets it when a small smile graces his lips. “Now if only I was able to help you with your comedy career.”

Richie chuckles. “I was actually thinking I could use the recovery time to start writing my own material. I’ve been messaging Steve and he has appeared to give me the okay.”

“That’s great, because your ghost writers fucking suck man. Like at least you’re kind of funny, but the ghost writers are shit.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking I want to change my image a bit, really let go of what they built up for me. I don’t think lady killer frat bro is really my thing.”

Eddie smiles and squeezes his hand a little bit. “Oh yeah? What image are you going to go for now? Slayer of moms?”

Richie wants to laugh, but he honestly feels like he’s about to throw up. It’s now or never. “Actually I was thinking something along the lines of hilarious homosexual would be a bit more me,” he says nervously before letting his eyes fall shut. He doesn’t want to see the look on Eddie’s face when he tells him he doesn’t want to go home with him anymore.

That doesn’t happen. Instead he can feel Eddie squeeze his hands just a little bit tighter. Richie opens his eyes, staring right into Eddie’s warm brown pools. “Are you coming out to me?” He doesn’t sound upset, it’s reassuring.

Richie can’t bring himself to talk just yet, so he just holds Eddie’s gaze and nods.

“Thanks for trusting me with this Rich. This doesn’t change anything, you’re still you. I still love you man.” The way Eddie says everything is so honest, it’s a little too close to what Richie wants to hear for his own comfort. But Richie can’t bring himself to turn away from him, so he just smiles, his eyes tearing up.

Later neither of them say anything when Eddie carefully sets Richie’s hand down and crawls into the bed next to him. He thinks this is the happiest he’s probably ever felt in his entire life. Accepted, with the person he loves smooshed next to him in a tiny bed. Even if he doesn’t get to have him, this is enough. It has to be enough.

~*~

The next day when Bill and Mike show up he comes out to them. They both smile and hug him, and he feels so fucking loved. He feels the same thing when he gets the rest of the losers on the line. They’re all a little mad at him for waiting until after they left, but he honestly couldn’t be fucking happier.

In the next few days Richie had his stitches removed and he started physical therapy. He was a little embarrassed when he found he most likely had to use a cane for the next while, but he found himself not caring as much when Eddie had helped him walk down the hall and told him that he was proud of him.

Since he was up and moving Eddie seemed actually okay with the idea of leaving him alone for a bit. He would leave to go help with Bill to pack up Mike’s house, and Richie would use the spare time to call the losers who weren’t around. In all honesty he mostly called Stan to complain about how cute Eddie was being, or about how Eddie had cussed up a storm when he lost at black jack, or just really about Eddie in general. Each time Stan would just tell him to grow a pair or he would stop listening, he never did.

By the end of the week Bill had left and Mike was all packed up and ready to go. Mike had hung around for a few more days, but eventually they had managed to convince him to get a move on as Richie was fine, and they were just waiting for the finally okay. And honestly they had that final okay before they knew it.

Monday they were on a plane, heading home.

#reddie #reddie fanfic #fic #My fic #exchange #derpstuff

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