hyacinth ❁ reddie (SUPER OLD)

Late.

I haven't updated in really long, I know I always have excuses. But it's always linked with depression, I'm currently in full recovery. Expect more updates soon.

Richie cried out when his foot lowered onto something sharp, he was too scared to look down to identify the object so he just decided it could only be one thing: Sharp, ouch.
It must have been sticking directly upwards, because he felt a hole in the bottom of his shoes, when he realised the hole spread all the way to the other side of the shoe, the pain really kicked in. He quickly rose his foot and immediately felt blood oozing, he screamed in agony and leaned against the nearest wall.
His eyes darted to the metal rod he had stepped on, it was rusty (and bloody, now.) and he felt lightheaded.

"Tetanus, Richie" a voice croaked from under him, he looked down and saw a rotten and disfigured Eddie on his knees caressing his friend's impaled foot. He looked at Richie with a caring smile,"you're gonna get tetanus."
It's hand slithered up his leg to his lap before he shook it off.
The creature shaped in Eddie's form shrieked and crawled backwards like a scared puppy, drooling and cursing.
Richie tried to take off, but his foot thought otherwise. He cried out in realisation his blood was draining.
He could die of blood loss, he hopped to the window next to him and searched the corners for a curtain. They were there, but torn and dirty.
A spider ran up his arm as he started wrapping a curtain around his now bare foot. Looking behind him the creature was gone, and he couldn't decide on being either scared or relieved.

Bill felt the others standing around him, "what did you say?" Beverly asked him.
The others listened carefully. He sighed and paused, "juh...just Richie I'm... S-S-S-Sorry."
An observant Stan who had watched him type continued the text "you also said, where are you?" With a raised finger in declaration.
Eddie smiled to himself, he hoped to have his friend back in the group when he saw the text. It wasn't a first time that Bill and Richie had bickered like that, it was natural, they saw eachother as brothers. He wondered to himself if he was a brother to Richie, too. His smile was gone quick.
But was a brother supposed to stare at your lips and blush when you say their name?
And was Eddie in the wrong if he wanted to stare back?
Was he wrong if he wanted to hold his brother's hand other than when they cross the street?
The phone went off, with a long unidentifiable noise: a photo of Richie from a few feet distance, hands wrapping a yellow cloth around his bleeding foot.

RICHARD:

He's needed here. S͠҉̙̺̹͕͙͎̖t̼͈͚͈̱̻̙͎͘͝A̢̼̟͎̙͖̟͓͘̕ỳ̨̹͙͍̺̟ ̗̲͈̬̻̮͜͡͡a̙̫̞͉w̢͉̺̫͙͍̬ ͖̼́̕a̜̻̯̬̻͍̱͘y͏̶̦̝͖͖͙̟͖̞͖

Bill's phone vibrated with an electric shock and turned off. With a scream Bill dropped it and rubbed his hands together. The pain was very quick but the electric buzz lingered for a while. Birds that had camped around the group's feet for a bite of Ben's chocolate bar flew away in a heartbeat, Ben watching them.
Scared, Bill looked around at the others, his eyes were asking them what to do as his mouth refused. They knew Bill, they knew his pride. Nobody could shake him, but sometimes he gave them the look, the one he used when he didn't know what to do.

Bill always knew what to do.

Not this time.

Bill was unsure, and panicked, he knew Richie was in danger.
He knew it was his fault.
The guilt of his little brother Georgie's death rushed over him, that was his fault.
He had let George go outside, it was his fault.

Bill stormed into the nearest bush, and they could hear gagging.
As the others grouped around him Eddie stayed put.
He reached for the phone on the grass under him, the phone was frozen on the photo of Richie.
"Neibolt." Eddie said out loud, looking over his shoulder.
Stan, who had stepped back to avoid Bill's vomit going anywhere near his new jacket sat next to him.
The photo was blurry but the blobs of color made out a seemingly abandoned and the only place he could sense for Richie to had gone was there.
Stan buried his face in his hands, "this is so stupid. He's pranking us." He groaned and glanced at the screen through his fingers. "But what if he isn't, we can't just chill here." Eddie shrieked. He sounded like a mouse, was what Richie would have said if he was there. It's always a rodent, but he barely uses the same twice.
Sobbing, Eddie tried to mask his fear by standing with his arms crossed.

It was cold, and Eddie leaned into his bike for comfort.
His feet were sore and his stomach felt curled.
Helmet dangling off his shoulders, improperly adjusted to his head.
But he had to drive fast.

Late.