You're Safe

Richie learned to keep his windows unlocked shortly after the seven teens formed the Loser's Club. He brought up the idea to everyone, to make sure that they all could lean on one another regardless of the time of the day. Bill and Beverly were in his room at odd hours of the night the most. He never minded waking up to one of his best friends sneaking their way into his house, in fact, he really loved feeling needed.

Another fight with her father. It didn't matter that she was almost eighteen, he made sure that Beverly knew he owned her and everything she did. Stan had walked her home after the group hung out and of course, Alvin was home to see the boy get too close to the house. It didn't matter how much she explained that he truly was just a friend, her father wouldn't listen. He lectured her, explaining how boys just wanted to take her innocence. He held her wrists violently, making her promise she was still "his".

Bev locked herself in her room for the rest of the night, not bothering to go past the living room to make herself dinner. She felt so alone, so terrified in her own house. 'It's bullshit,' she thought to herself, 'I need to get out of here. At least for the night.'

She waited until Alvin's footsteps retreated to his bedroom before slipping out of her own room. Beverly had snuck out enough times to know where to step to avoid the creaking of the floor beneath her. With her house key around her neck, she left the apartment building, heading towards a certain Trashmouth's house.

Richie woke up to the familiar sound of his bedroom window cracking open. He sat up, sliding his glasses on and going over to help the Loser inside. He grinned, "Bev!" he grabbed her hand and carefully got her inside. Before she could explain her reasoning for intruding, Richie threw their special mixtape into his cassette player. It was a combination of their favorite songs, the first song being Centerfold, by the J Geils Band, the song they claimed for themselves.

Beverly smiled and laughed weakly, tears forming in her eyes. It was another rough night but Richie always knew exactly how to help. He reached his hand out with a smirk, "care for a dance, Miss Marsh?" She giggled before grabbing his hand, both of them dancing quite out of sync.

"I love you, Rich. Thank you."

He shrugged her off, "I'm not doing anything special, just spending time with you. I love you too, Bev."

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

The playlist continued as the two sat on the floor in silence. Beverly rested her head on Richie's shoulder. She took steady breaths, trying to keep herself calm. She couldn't wait any longer to be out of that house, away from her father. It didn't matter what she did or what she said, he'd attack her whenever he had the chance. She didn't feel safe, she didn't feel loved in that apartment. At this point, Richie's floor was more of a home than her house could ever be.

Tears began to run down Bev's cheeks. She buried her face into her friend's shoulder, truly crying now. "It's okay, Bev. It'll be okay. You're safe here. You're safe," Richie whispered, wrapping his arm around her, bring Beverly closer. He didn't need to press her for answers, it was best to let her handle it her way. "I love you, Beverly. I'll always be here for you."

Beverly felt so weak at that moment, crumbling into her best friend. She never wanted to leave this floor again. Richie's words hit hard, he was right, she was safe with him.

She picked her head up, sniffling a bit. "Sorry... I didn't mean to..." she trailed off, knowing she didn't need to apologize but it felt wrong not to. She took a shaky breath, "one day, we'll all be alright. All of us, we'll have an apartment together. We'll be away from all the bullshit we have right now, we'll have each other." Richie nodded, a small smile on his face, "Eds can quarantine us whenever someone gets sick while Stan tells him he's overreacting." A giggle escaped from Bev as she imagined what it would be like to live with the six boys. It would be a disaster in the best way.

Beverly nudged Richie, "do we have any of that joint left?" He nodded, fishing out their stash, handing her half a joint and a lighter. They each took a few hits, Bev feeling lighter than when she initially came into the teen's bedroom. She was thankful that Richie didn't ask any questions regarding the fight this time around. Sometimes, all she really needed was to let it all out with no strings attached.

A comfortable silence fell over them, Beverly's head resting on Richie's shoulder once again, his arm over her. They felt at home with each other.

Richie glanced at his clock, it was almost two o'clock. "We should probably get some sleep, Bev. Take the bed, I got the floor," he stood up, helping Beverly to her feet. Had it been any other Loser, Richie would have claimed his bed for himself. But this was Bev, he had to treat her, of course.

"I can take the floor-" Richie cut her off with a glare, "there's no way in hell I'm making the most beautiful girl in all of Maine sleep on the floor, idiot. Get comfortable." She rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of his bed. She was too tired to fight off his hospitality.

Richie made himself a makeshift bed on his floor and went over to his alarm clock, setting it for the time Beverly would have to wake up in order to get back home in the morning. He turned off the lights before laying down.

"Goodnight, Bev."

"Goodnight, Rich."

"I love you. You're safe."

"I know."