Bloody Noses & Crack'd Crowns

Chapter 23

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. All credit goes to TheWeaverofWorlds on ao3

Richie Tozier was sitting on his bed Tuesday night when the door bell rang.

"Honey, can you get that?" He heard his mom call out from the kitchen.

Richie's curiosity was piqued. It wasn't abnormal for the Urises to be invited over for dinner without Richie's awareness to the fact, but usually Stan would bring it up in school. Stan had said nothing of the sort, not to mention that the dinner hour had long come and gone.

In socked feet, for maximum stealth, Richie crept to the top of the stairs and looked down. He wasn't sure who he had expected to see, but Arlene Hanscom was not it. The woman followed Wentworth into the other room chatting about how lovely the Tozier's décor was.

Richie ran back to his room, pulling his radio out as he went.

"Trashmouth to New Kid, are you reading me?"

"New Kid, here. What's up? Over."

"Your mom just showed up at my house."

"She did what!?"

"Did she tell you that she was planning on coming over?"

"No. She just told Aunt Jean that she had to visit a sick friend."

"I think you'd better come over. You know how to sneak in my window?"

"Richie, are you kidding me?"

"Codenames only!"

"I am not crawling through your window –"

"Well you better figure out something. Bring Embers too, if she can manage to make up an excuse for her old man. Over and out."

Richie was just setting the radio down when he heard his mother's voice floating up from the hall.

"Andrea! Don! So glad you could make it."

Stan's parents were here too? This was getting weird. He radioed to Stan telling him to get his scrawny ass over here, and through his window post haste. He wasn't sure what was going on, but like hell were his parents going to leave him out of the loop.

Stan was the first to arrive, and with a lot of muttering under his breath he managed to make it up the trellis and through the window.

Already, Richie could hear the hushed voices of the grown ups downstairs. Their tones were too soft and indistinct to make anything out. And besides, watching Stan struggle through the window without untucking his shirt in the process was just too funny not to watch.

"Thanks for the help, asshole," Stan said once he righted himself. "Can't believe you do this on a regular basis."

"Not a regular basis, only when true love requires it."

Stan rolled his eyes at that, but Richie could see that he was softening up. Perhaps seeing Denbrough in the hospital had done him some good, although Stan had refused to tell Richie what happened which Richie found mildly insulting.

"Keep your voice down," Stan said without any bite to his words.

Richie mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key.

Beverly came next, swinging through the window like a trained ballerina. She made it look unfairly easy, thought Richie.

"Haystack, with you?"

"Yeah. He doesn't want to break your mom's trellis so he's waiting by the back door."

"How'd you get away from your dad?" Stan asked.