Summer of '93 - Stozier

11

It was 11pm before Richie had gotten away from his mothers questions. When it came to her son, Maggie was a little like Eddie, always worried about his health.

Richie had to explain many times that he was fine and it was nothing serious. He hated worrying his mom.

He was still exhausted from the lack of sleep in the past few days, but he knew he'd never be able to fall asleep with his nightmares being on replay in his head.

Despite that, he'd changed into an oversized Guns N' Roses band tee and a pair of boxers, buried himself under the blankets on his bed and began to read a book- now that he could actually concentrate a little more.

Maggie came into his room a few minutes later with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. "Hey, sweetie, I made you some cookies cause I felt bad for overreacting." She smiled, placing the glass of milk on his bedside table and handing him the plate.

"Oh." Richie smiled, a little surprised. "Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome. Whatcha readin'?" Maggie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing Richie the plate of cookies.

Richie flipped the book over to look at the cover. "Not sure." He shrugged. "Something Bill wrote a while ago. Its really good."

"Bill? Denbrough?" Maggie asked, now she was the one who was surprised.

"Mhm." Richie nodded, biting into one of the cookies.

"Oh." Maggie smiled. "Well, try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Richie nodded.

Maggie stood up and kissed his forehead. "Sleep well, bub." And she left, closing the door behind her.

Just as Richie went back to reading his book, the telephone on his bedside table began to ring.

"Who the fucks callin' me at eleven pm?" Richie huffed with a mouthful of cookie. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Hey-o, Trashmouth Tozier speaking." Richie greeted, swallowing the mouthful of cookie.

"Hey, Richie." A tired voice came from the other line.

"Stan?" Richie furrowed his eyebrows, placing the empty cookie plate on the table.

"Yeah, its me."

"Whats up?" Richie asked, smiling and laying down.

"Dunno," Stan replied. "I just wanted to talk to you." He began twirling the phone cord around his finger.

"Oh- Okay."

"Mike told me you had a panic attack again."

Richie sucked in a breath. "Uh, yeah. Just another nightmare, its nothing."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"You sound tired." Stan said after a while.

"So do you. You and your raspy voice and whatnot." Richie smiled, yawning.

"I miss you."

Richie choked on air. "What?"

"I haven't seen you in like- forever." Stan whined.

"Are you drunk?" Richie asked, only half joking.

"A little." The curly headed boy giggled.

"Stan, go to sleep." Richie smiled, suppressing another yawn.

"But I miss you! My best friend! I wanna see you!" Stan whined again.

"Its eleven o'clock at night! And- We literally see each other almost every day!" He reasoned.