The End Of Us || losers club ✔️

twenty eight

twenty eight - we aren't the same anymore

It's been a long time since Richie felt truly clean.

Now, with freshly washed clothes and damp hair, he can finally walk around without having the afterthought of having someone's else's grossness on him. The communal showers at the Correctional Center was always musty and humid. The warm water standing still on the ground, mud tracks and grime gathering up in the corners, germs thriving in the humidity. It was the first time Richie saw what Eddie sees. It was disgusting, to say the least. Utterly disgusting.

"You alright there, Rich?" Wentworth asks, breaking into Richie's thoughts.

"What?" He looks over at his father, meeting his worried gaze.

"I asked if you were alright," he repeats. "Everyone else is already here. They're probably waiting for us."

Richie drags his eyes over to the Hanlon farmhouse. Wentworth's car is parked at the end of a long gravel driveway, car upon car sitting quietly in front of them. Lights on inside glow from within glass windows. It's almost as if it's showing off to Richie the life going on inside. Bragging to him and mocking you'll never have this.

"Yeah. Sure, let's go."

you'll never have this, the house may scream but Richie screams back just as loudly, watch me. Because that's his family inside those walls. A family he's drifted from, but a family nonetheless.

The sun is still in the sky, low, but enough to shine softly above the treetops. It's warm and sticky outside and it brings back the thought of showers in the Correctional Center.

They get up to the front door and Wentworth walks right inside. Richie lingers on the front porch, but after seeing the entry way empty curiosity pulls him inside. It's much colder inside than it was outside, and from behind one of the main walls Richie can hear a roar of adult laughter.

Wentworth kicks off his shoes by the front door, then easily walks towards the noise. There's no hint of hesitation in him, no hint of fear. Richie watches as his dad turns the corner and is easily welcomed in by the adults.

Richie follows his movements, joining his shoes with the large pile, then slowly walking towards the corner. All he hears is adults to the point where he thinks the other Losers aren't even around the corner.

He turns, and he's correct. The Denbroughs, Uris's, Hanlon grandparents, and Wentworth all sit around a large dining table. There's lit candles in the center, the wisps of flames dancing with each other.

Mike's grandpa sees Richie lingering around and a warm smile crosses his face. "Richie! Oh, son, how it's so nice to see you," he says as he gets up off his chair. Richie gets pulled into a tight hug, one he doesn't object to. "I haven't seen you.. Hell, since you were a boy! Mikey never brought you and your friends around here very much, now did he?"

"Nope," Richie replies. "Sucks too, I've always wanted to see the chickens."

Mike's grandpa laughs and pulls away. "How've you've been, Richie?" He asks. His hands are on his hips and he's angled forward. Bad back, probably.

"Oh, just peachy," Richie says sarcastically. "Never been better."

The man shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "Go on, son. The others are down in the basement."