═══ 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛 ═══

II

𝐓 𝐇 𝐀 𝐓  𝐍 𝐈 𝐆 𝐇 𝐓

"Sure. . ." though little did he know, this would change a portion of his childhood for good.

That same night left Billy scarred, bare, molding yet another wall that he clung to, sinking into the thickness of sheer hate. He felt alone, betrayed. Yet he couldn't act like he wasn't at fault, as much as he'd deny it. He was flawless, at least he'd like to say. Tonight, was different, he was vulnerable now, seeking refuge after finding the old man's wallet he had promised the boy, Richie, he'd return. It took some courage and wit to get the old man not to hollar or call the comes this way, but Richie managed to calm him down; though the only thing Billy got from this was a fake friendship, a summer long payless job to mow their long for the next summer coming up, and proper tending to his wounds. Richie was young but well educated in proper care. It was comforting, oddly anyway. But he didn't let that feeling sink too far deep.

Billy made his way down the staircase, wanting nothing more but to go home before he was way too deep. Though it was probably too late now. In fact, he was more than likely getting far worse than words. "Where do you think you're going?" Said a faint voice, crippled in wheezes as white hairs were the first to catch his attention, diverting his attention to meet the man's gaze, shoulders tensed, tears dry against skin as his curls draped across his dirt filled face, his other hand holding the one bandaged up. Richie had been cleaning the blood on the bathroom sink.

"Nowhere," he replied bitterly. The man saw right through him. "Nowhere aye?" He stepped forward, slamming a glass cup down just enough to create a thud, but not to break it. Earning a jolt from Billy. "My grandson offers you a hand, persuades me to let you off the hook, for the most part anyways, and this is how to repay?" He said, he was angry. "I- look if I don't get home I will-" "I know," the man spoke, "your father isn't the most noble of man," he interrupted Billy. "Wait. . . you know my father?" Though he should've guessed, his father was out almost all day through the night. It wouldn't surprise him if the whole city caught wind of him. 

"Know him? I work with him at the local drug store off of Ampton road." He implied, raising his glass to his lips, drinking the beverage inside. "Oh," is all Billy had said. The man had a much softer expression now, almost sympathetic. "You, my boy, have much in common with Richie more than you know." Is all he said before turning around into the door frame to the living room, passing Billy. "Just give my boy a chance; though if you hurt him, I won't think twice about putting your ass in juvy." He declared. Billy gulped, tightening his shoulders against the comfort of his neck, embracing himself before shaking himself. Taking a small breath before nodding, "yes sir, understood sir." He replied, looking up at the staircase, the door to the bathroom open as Richie began to make his way down. Clueless of what just went down. 

"Well, I got to go," he turned to meet Richie's gaze, a soft grin curved, "let's hangout this weekend?" Billy waved. "Uh-yea, sure! Make sure you're a-" he was soon cut off with Billy running out the door. A soft sigh escaped his lips before walking his way to his grandfather, sitting next to him. "He'll come around." Richie's grandfather said, eyes drawn solely on the tv. "Yea," he started to say, a long silence drifted, hazel hues drawing to the corner of the room, looking at a picture frame that silhouetted three people, a younger version of his grandfather and his father, along with Richie's mother.

"I know pops." He finished.