"I've realized that..." he started, then took a shaky breath. "Earlier today, when Stanley pulled you aside... seeing you two so close and secretive, I hated it." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I don't like how others make you smile..." He traile...
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°•°Third person POV°•°
The entire ride to the pharmacy, Eddie was a live wire of anxious energy, rambling about staph infections, septic shock, and his mother’s certain impending aneurysm. Vanessa usually found the sound of his voice comforting, a familiar hum in the chaos of their lives, but today, it was just noise grating on her frayed nerves. This wasn't one of those days.
They pulled their bikes into the grimy alley next to the pharmacy, the bricks stained dark with damp and age. The reality of their situation settled over them like a shroud.
"Hey..." Bill said, his voice cutting through Eddie's panic, a clear command for attention.
"Ah, we're screwed," Eddie whispered, his earlier rambling condensing into one stark, terrified summary. Despite everything, Vanessa found his particular brand of melodrama oddly endearing.
"Richie, wait here with Nessa. Come on," Bill instructed, gesturing for Stan and Eddie to follow him into the store for supplies.
As they left, Vanessa pulled a small, worn first aid kit from her bike basket. She always carried it, a habit born from a constant, low-grade fear that Eddie would one day need it. She turned to the new boy, Ben, her voice softening to a gentle, practical tone. "Can you lift your shirt up for me, please?"
Ben hesitated, then shyly tugged his shirt up just enough to reveal the vicious 'H' carved into his skin. His embarrassment was palpable; he couldn't meet her eyes. A hot wave of shame washed over Vanessa. She was related to the monster who had done this. Her own flesh and blood derived pleasure from inflicting this kind of pain.
"Glad I got to meet you before you died," Richie quipped, leaning against the brick wall.
Vanessa and Ben both shot him identical looks of pure irritation. "Why'd they have to leave you here?" Vanessa muttered, focusing on carefully dabbing the wound with an antiseptic wipe.
"So," Richie said, his tone shifting to a faux-casual one that Vanessa immediately distrusted. "When are you gonna tell little Eddie that you like him?"
Her hands stilled. She looked up, shocked. "You knew?"
"Everyone knows," Richie said with a shrug. "You just have a way of showing it. It's kind of obvious." He'd noticed how her gaze always found Eddie in a crowd, how her warnings to Richie were always fiercest when he was picking on him.
"I'm more worried about his mother killing me than confessing my feelings," she admitted quietly, finishing her work. "It's best if he never finds out."
Just then, the others returned, Eddie’s arms laden with gauze, tape, and every brand of bandage the pharmacy had. His eyes widened slightly when he saw how clean and precise Vanessa’s work was. He gave her a small, impressed smile that made her heart stutter before he knelt down to take over.
"Just suck the wound," Richie suggested unhelpfully.
"Nessa cleaned it really well," Eddie said, his voice tight with concentration as he laid out his supplies. "And I need to focus."
"You need to focus?" Richie mocked.
"Yeah," Eddie said, ignoring him. He looked up at Vanessa. "Can you get my bifocals? I hid them in my second fanny pack."
"Why do you have two fanny packs?" Stan asked, bewildered.
"I need to focus right now, and it's a long story," Eddie deflected, his attention solely on Ben's stomach. As he moved to apply a bandage, the cut welled with fresh blood.
"Oh god, he's bleeding again. Oh, my god!" Stan panicked, his hands fluttering nervously.
"You have to suck the wound before you apply the band-aid. This is first aid 101," Richie stated with an authority he absolutely did not possess.
"Richie, you have no idea what you're talking about," Vanessa snapped, her expression one of utter annoyance.
"Are you okay? That looks like it hurts."
A new voice, soft and laced with concern, came from the mouth of the alley. They all looked up. Beverly Marsh stood there, her red hair a splash of color against the dull brickwork.
"Oh, no. I'm good. I just fell," Ben said quickly, trying to downplay the horrific injury, his cheeks flushing.
"Yeah, right into Henry Bowers," Richie blurted out.
Vanessa didn't hesitate; she punched him hard in the arm. "Shut it, Richie."
"Why? It's the truth," he whined, rubbing the sore spot.
"You sure they got the right stuff to fix you up?" Beverly asked, her eyes lingering on Ben. He just looked away, a shy smile touching his lips.
"You know, we'll take care of him. Uh, thanks again, Beverly," Bill said, stepping forward.
"Sure. Maybe I'll see you around," she said, turning to leave.
"Y-yeah," Bill stammered, suddenly nervous. "We were thinking about going to the q-q-quarry tomorrow, if you wanna come."
The other boys stared, holding their breath as they waited for her answer.
"Good to know. Thanks," she said with a warm smile before walking away.
"Nice going bringing up Bowers in front of her," Stanley snapped at Richie the moment she was out of earshot.
"Yeah, dude, you heard what she did," Eddie added, referring to the storm of ugly rumors that followed Beverly at school.
"What'd she do?" Ben asked.
"More like who'd she do?" Richie corrected. "From what I hear, the list is longer than my wang."
Vanessa rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. "That's not saying much," Stanley deadpanned. Vanessa reached over and gave him a quick, satisfying high-five.
"They're j-j-just rumors," Bill said, his voice firm, brooking no argument.
"Anyway," Richie plowed on, undeterred, "Bill had her back in third grade. They kissed in the school play. The reviews said you can't fake that sort of passion." Vanessa’s fist clenched again; she really felt like punching him a second time.
"Now, pip-pip and tally-ho, my good fellows!" Richie announced, switching into his obnoxious British accent. "I do believe this chap requires our utmost attention. Get in there, Dr. K! Come on, fix him up!"
"Why don't you shut the fuck up, Einstein," Eddie snapped, his patience finally evaporating. "Because I know what I'm doing, and I don't want you doing the British guy with me right now."
"Suck the wound! Get in there!" Richie chanted, his sole purpose now to push every one of Eddie's buttons.
