The End Of Us || losers club ✔️

six

six - forgiven

Both Beverly and Mike pushed Stanley out of the car and closed the door on his face. Richie watches with confusion as Stanley crosses his arms and throws a swift kick to the side of the car. He's too far to hear any conversations, if any were going on at all.

Stanley looks in Richie's direction, seemingly making eye contact. Richie isn't sure because of how dark it is away from all the civilization. Before he could make a move, either towards or away from the car, Stanley begins his walk over. He's slow in his steps and his head is turned towards the empty roads, but he's still walking over nonetheless.

"What do you want?" Richie asks when the boy gets close enough.

Stanley simply shrugs, his arms still tightly crossed over his chest. "I'm not supposed to tell you this but they won't let either of us back in until we apologize," he explains. His voice is thick from tears and Richie presumes he still has a sob waiting in his throat and more tears to shed.

"Well, are you sorry?"

Stanley looks at him, eyes narrowed. "We both have to say sorry, idiot."

"Well I'm not saying shit until you say it."

"Why do I have to apologize first?"

"Because you fucking started it!" Richie says, his arms flying out.

"Oh!" Stanley says, faking his realization, "Oh, I'm the one who started it? Me? Shit, Richie, I'm sorry for having emotions. I'm sorry that seeing my face on TV scared me." Richie tries to keep his eyes on the ground, but the way that Stanley's stern face slowly melts into a genuine look grabs his attention. Stanley's voice on the verge of cracking with tears, rising and pitching higher with every word. "I'm sorry that I don't know what to do and I'm scared and us fighting isn't making anything better. I'm sorry! Alright?"

Stanley breaths in deeply, his shoulders shaking as he calms his nerves. Richie's eyes linger on him, then drops to the overgrowth tickling at his shins. His own apology sits beneath his tongue, ready to be spoken into existence and heal all between them.

"I get that you want to go home," Richie starts off with instead. He doesn't think a simple 'I'm sorry' will fix it all. "I do, too, Stanley. I want my mom and I bet both of our parents are out there right now looking for us." He watches as Stanley's face shifts, his eyebrows drawing together and mouth form into a frown. He's trying not to cry again. "But we can't go home. Not yet, at least."

"Not ever," Stanley says, then grips at his arms like he's comforting himself. "We can't ever go home anymore. I know that now, Richie... I've started to feel like I won't ever see home again."

Richie nods and looks down at his feet, flexing his toes within his shoes. "Well.. um, I'm sorry, too. Seriously. I shouldn't ignore you when you're sad," he says. He taps his fingers against his legs and looks up at the car, just wanting to get back inside and drive off.

Stanley also nods, his eyes still trained on the grass beside them. "Are we good?" He asks.

"Yeah," Richie agrees, "We're good."

"Good. I wanna get back in the car if you don't mind," Stanley says, his eyes sweeping along the dark immersed streets and fields, "I'm getting the creeps."