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The Downward Spiral of Patrick Hockstetter

Chapter Text

Patrick Hockstetter moved to Derry, Maine in the middle of his junior year of high school. He had been born and raised in New York but an unfortunate event caused the need for the Hockstetter family to move away, somewhere that hopefully they could start over. So a small town is where they went, somewhere most hadn't heard of.

Patrick didn't care if they moved or not, after all, it was his fault they had to move in the first place. He fucked up and now his parents had to pay for it. He sat in the backseat of the family car listening to some sad depressing emo shit, as his father liked to call it, really it was just My Chemical Romance, not the most depressing emo shit he listened to but whatever.

Patrick didn't have friends really and he was fine with that. He liked being alone, he liked to just exist without being bothered. His parents wished he would open up, make friends, but he felt there was no need. He knew he was a downer, he knew people groaned when he was forced to socialize with them. He would stick to drawing and listening to music alone and he was just fine with that.

Its not like Patrick was scary looking, but his appearance was dark. His naturally jet-black hair that was constantly in his eyes didn't help, he hated when people called his hairstyle that emo fringe, he couldn't help his hair was pin straight and just naturally fell to the style that punks would kill for. His naturally pale skin and striking bright blue eyes caused bullies to tease him, calling him a vampire or a Twilight wannabe.

He always wore all black, all his skinny jeans were black, some with rips and some without. His band tees were what you would find in the back of a Hot Topic, the harder shit that most people didn't buy anymore. He had more hoodies than shirts and yet again all black, zip up or pullover, they were always too big on him, he was thin and lanky so everything was usually a bit loose on him, he usually cut thumb holes on all his hoodies, he liked to keep himself covered as much as possible.



Patrick took one ear bud out, the loud music could be heard, he obviously had turned the volume up as high as it would go.

"What mom?" he grumbled.

His mother was a small thin woman with pale skin, the same blue eyes and black hair, he had gotten those traits from her, but she was shorter than him, she was around five foot three where Patrick was a freaking giant at six foot two.

"We are in Derry", she replied.

Patrick hummed to confirm he heard her and put his earbud back in. His father muttered how rude his son was, he didn't understand his son and he never really tried to. They were complete opposites, he had naturally tan skin and brown hair with brown eyes. The only thing they had in common was their height. Patrick's father was just an inch taller, six foot three.

Patrick picked up his camera, he had a really nice camera, he loved photography and he had an eye for it. His work was always beautiful and dark. He had raw talent that he never really showed anyone except for the anonymous people who followed him on tumblr. They didn't know him and those he knew didn't ever see his photos.

He snapped some photos of downtown Derry, people walking around, some kids playing at a playground, the scenery, and even a dog he saw when the car stopped at a red light.


Once they finally got to the house, they all got out of the car and looked at their new home. It was a two story home that looked modernized somewhat but still had that old timey charm. They walked inside the empty house and for the first time, Patrick got to see where he would now be living. He hadn't cared to go with his parents house hunting, as long as he got a room with a window that lead to a spot he could sit on the roof, he was good.

He walked upstairs and checked out the rooms to find the perfect one for him. He found the one he wanted quickly, it had a large window that opened to a flat spot on the roof that almost touched the roof next door. He could literally climb on his neighbor's roof if he really wanted. The window faced his neighbor's window but he didn't care. The other window faced the street, he could also sit on the roof in front of that window, so he had two spots for him to stargaze or just sit outside unbothered.


Once the movers had gotten there, Patrick was expected to help bring things inside the house, what the hell were movers for if they still used their own son for free labor? He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb in that quaint little neighborhood. He saw a truck pull up next door, the house his room window faced, and he saw a family of three get out. A mother and father with their son who looked to be the same age as him. The boy was tall, almost as tall as Patrick with curly black hair that seemed like no brush could tame. He was also pale like Patrick but his clothing choices were quite different. He wore holey jeans and nerdy t-shirts with, holy fuck was he seriously wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt over his t-shirt? It was brightly colored and obnoxious but he forgave it when he saw the t-shirt underneath was a Final Fantasy 7 shirt.

The boy looked over as Patrick stared and tilted his head. He had to admit that guy was a bit cute, even if his fashion choices were questionable. The boy waved and Patrick nodded his head in acknowledgement then picked up a box and returned inside the house.

"Patrick, I'm going to order pizza, cheese thin crust?"

"Yes, mom," Patrick yelled back.


Night time came quicker than expected, after dinner of pizza straight from the box and sitting on the floor, Patrick went up to his room and began to put up posters. Band posters, creepy artwork, and just random things he liked. He taped a Do Not Enter sign on his door and a few strips of Caution tape.

His walls were becoming less bare, his windows had no blinds or curtains but he didn't care. His bed had sheets and blankets and his computer desk was set up. He unpacked some things, his clothes were hung up in the spacious closet, and he stashed a small worn tin in a drawer in the closet.

His parents knew he smoked, they honestly didn't care, although if they knew that included weed, they might not be so cool about his smoking habits. He kept cigarettes and his baggie of weed in the tin, along with a lighter, rolling paper, and a pack of box cutter blades.

His parents didn't know about the self harm, he always covered himself and even when his mother noticed a scar on his wrist when his jacket sleeve rode up a little she didn't ask about it.


He looked outside the window facing the street and saw the stars in the night sky and he was itching to take some photos, the moon was almost full and he loved getting shots of the moon. He finally found his cd player and cd's and then he cranked up the music. His parents were smart enough to get a house where their room was downstairs and on the other side of the house. Of Mice & Men blared through the speakers and he ended up opening the window facing the house next door. He liked the fresh air and the cool breeze, he didn't expect the window his window faced would be to the room of the boy he saw earlier.

The boy was sitting on his bed, looked to be reading comics and- was he moving his head to the beat of Patrick's music? Huh, at least the kid had good taste in music. He grinned as the boy looked up and noticed his neighbor opening the window. Feeling caught Patrick turned away quickly and went back to hanging posters on the white walls that surrounded him.




Patrick laid in his bed just staring at the ceiling, he turned off his music and just listened to the night time sounds, the window, leaves in the trees, and crickets. It was peaceful and he enjoyed this time of night. Everyone was asleep and the night was calm. He got up to grab his bag of weed, rolling papers, and lighter and opened his window and stepped outside. He sat on the roof a few feet away from his window and rolled a joint. The click of the lighter and light of the flame was soothing, he took a nice long drag and after a minute of holding his breath, he let out the warm smoke that had filled his lungs.

He sat there and smoked in peace, not having a care in the world. Little did he know he was being watched.

He let his head rest against the wall and he closed his eyes. He didn't care that he moved away from his only home, he didn't care that he knew absolutely no one here, and he certainly didn't care about all the shit his parents were trying to run away from, or more like hide away from.

He knew his reputation would probably proceed him, it always did, he changed schools three times before his parents decided to move because word always traveled and everyone knew of his fuck up before he even got there. Why would moving make it any different. He was ready for no one to speak to him. He was ready for people to act terrified of him. He was ready to navigate school alone. He lifted his hand up to the sky and gave it the middle finger.

"Fuck this shit."

Chapter Text

The sunlight invaded Patrick's room, the one downside to having no blinds or curtains on his windows, he heard birds chirping, dogs barking, and his parents arguing downstairs. He grumbled as he realized his mom would no doubt bang on his door to make him get up. He could smell the breakfast his mom made and coffee brewing which tempted him to get up just for the caffeine.

Patrick had almost drifted back to sleep when he heard the cranking of a stereo blasting Nirvana. The sudden loud music startled him and he jumped out of bed, his heart pounding.

"What the fuck?!"

Patrick went to his window facing his neighbors, and he saw the boy next door dancing around and playing air guitar to his music. The sight would have been hilarious if it hadn't scared the shit out of him. He chuckled and walked over to his cd player and decided to have a little fun. He casually placed one of his Mudvayne cd's in the player, turned the volume all the way up, looked through his window and waited for the perfect moment to strike.

The boy next door had jumped on his bed, still playing air guitar like a maniac, and then Patrick struck. He pressed play and he laughed as the sudden extremely loud music startled the boy and he fell off his bed, Patrick was pretty sure he heard a yelp.

The boy looked towards Patrick's window, wondering what the fuck just happened and there was Patrick smirking and gave a wave before turning off his music. The glint in the boy's eyes screamed touche, and a small grin appeared on his face.

A banging on Patrick's room door tore his gaze away and he groaned.

"Patrick! Get up! You can't be late to school on your first day!"

Patrick opened his room door and stared at his mom.

"On a fucking Wednesday?! We just moved in last night, why the rush?" he asked his mom.

"The school is expecting you today now get dressed and do something with that hair", she said and then walked away.

Patrick slammed his door, he was not happy. School in the middle of the fucking week, in the middle of the fucking school year. Now Patrick just wanted to break something, he really didn't think he would be forced to go to school the day after they move. He walked to the mirror on his closet door and looked at himself, he looked rough.

Patrick decided now was the perfect time to give himself another piercing, that would piss his mom off for sure. Patrick had many silver hoops in his ears, most of them done professionally, and an industrial bar as well. He also had his ears stretched to a half inch with black plugs, or gauges as some called it, with white pentagrams. His facial piercings were two silver hoops in his nose, one on each side, a silver bar in his tongue, and a silver bar on the bridge of his nose. All but one of the nose piercings were done at a tattoo shop, his mom had freaked out when he pierced the other side himself.

What to pierce now? He thought about it and decided a lip ring on his bottom lip in the middle, a labret piercing he believed the name of it was, would look cool. He grabbed a hollow needle from the pack he swiped from a tattoo shop and shoved it through. There was a little blood but he didn't care, it didn't really hurt. He found a silver hoop and put it through the new hole in his face and looked satisfied with his work.

After cleaning the piercing in the bathroom, he wasn't completely irresponsible, he showered and dried and styled his hair, not that it needed much. He decided to go with thick eyeliner with the bottom lids a little smudged to really give off the leave me the fuck alone vibe. Plus if Gerald Way could pull it off, so could he.

Patrick now needed to figure out what to wear. What would annoy his mom the most? Black skinny jeans with a ton of rips for sure, next a black Invader Zim t-shirt featuring Gir because Gir is the fucking best, and black hoodie covered in pentagrams. His mom always freaked out when he wore it, she swore he was inviting the devil in, she honestly couldn't understand that a pentagram wasn't even satanic but it got the reaction he wanted so he was fine with it. He put the hood up and slipped on his black Vans and he was ready.

He trudged downstairs and sat at the dining table. His dad was sitting at the table drinking orange juice and eating eggs, toast, and bacon while scrolling through the news on his phone. His mom walked in with a mug of coffee and a plate of food for Patrick and she shook her head at the sight of her son.

"Really? You couldn't even try to look approachable today? You're not going to make any friends looking like a hell spawn".

Patrick snorted and picked up the mug to drink the precious beverage. His mom could be so fucking dramatic.

"I'll drive you to school once you are finis- what in the world?! Did you pierce yourself again?! What the hell?! I have told you to stop doing that! If you need to be stabbed with a needle so badly go to a shop!", his mom said with her voice getting increasingly louder.

His father just shook his head, his eyes never leaving the screen. Success. His mom is officially pissed. Bad news, she is driving him to school. He hated that she always did that on the first day of a new school. He didn't want to hear all the complaints about how he looked or how he was in general.


The drive to the school was quiet. It was almost unsettling, but at least it didn't take long, just a few blocks away. Once they pulled up, he was about to get out when he felt his mom's hand on his arm.

"Honey, I know you are angry at us but this move is what we all needed. No one will know who you are here. You get a fresh start. Please just at least try, that's all I ask", she spoke softly.

Patrick wasn't looking at her and he just hummed in response. His mom let go of his arm and he got out of the car without a goodbye. She frowned but drove off. Once she was out of sight, Patrick pulled out a cigarette and lighter and walked towards the school building.

He saw his neighbor with a group of other boys and a girl and their eyes locked for a moment. Patrick looked away and walked to a tree to finish his cigarette before going inside. He heard students talking about him as they walked by, the whispers were loud enough for him to hear it all.

"Is that the new guy?"

"I heard he is a murderer."

"I heard he killed his baby brother."

"I heard he eats raw meat and drinks blood."

"What is with the emo getup?"


"He looks evil."

"Hey, that's the guy who moved next door I was telling you about!"

Patrick perked up at that. He scanned the students and saw his neighbor with his friends near him and they were all trying to stare without being noticed, they were terrible at it, especially that one short twink boy, he just openly stared and didn't even try to hide it.

"That's him? He looks like one of those goth kids my mom warned me about. They kill little boys and pray to the devil!", he heard the short twink say.

Patrick snorted at that and blew out more smoke.


"Eddie! What the fuck?!", the girl said.

"H-he will p-prob-probably join B-b-bowers gang", the boy who seemed to be the leader said.

"He has good taste in music", his neighbor said and that made Patrick grin.

"Richie, I think you should stay away from him, he just seems off", the Jewish boy ( he wore the little hat that Jewish people wear) said to his neighbor.

So Richie was his neighbor's name. He'll have to remember that. He saw the group start to continue walking towards the school building and he heard a bell ring. Well since he was new he figured being a little late wouldn't be such a big deal. He finished his cigarette and then walked inside, the halls empty and he made his way to the office.

He saw the secretary desk and he signed his name and sat in a chair to wait for his class schedule and hopefully get a locker so he didn't have to carry his backpack around all day.

An older woman walked in and saw Patrick and she greeted him. She looked at the sign in sheet and gathered his schedule and locker number.

"Here you go Mr. Hockstetter, this is your class schedule, your locker number, and a map of the school to help you navigate to your classes", she said and handed him all the papers.

He walked out without saying a word and looked to see where he was supposed to go. First class was History, fucking boring. He looked at the map and made his way to the classroom. He found it easily and opened the door and walked in.

The entire class stared at him as he walked in and the teacher stopped her lesson and looked at him.

"Ahh You must be Patrick Hockstetter, I'm Ms. Adams", the teacher said and motioned for him to come to her desk where she was standing near.

He walked to her and stood there, hands in his hoodie pockets and looked at the floor.

"Class, this is Patrick, the new student to Derry High", Ms. Adams announced.

"On a fucking Wednesday?!" Richie yelled out.

The classroom was filled with giggles and laughs and Patrick smirked. This guy gets it.

"Mr. Tozier! Language! Anyway, why don't you tell us some things about yourself Patrick, maybe where you moved from or hobbies you enjoy?"

The room was silent and Patrick just continued staring at the floor. Then the sound of a cricket chirping was heard. The students giggled and Ms. Adams looked confused. Richie had a devious grin on his face and his phone in his hands under his desk. Patrick found it humorous.

"Um, well, maybe your favorite subject or what your parents do for a living?" Ms. Adams asked.

Still Patrick refused to speak. He hated being the center of attention and being in front of the class was just awkward for him.

"Well then, take a seat so we can continue today's lesson", Ms. Adams gave up.

Patrick walked to a empty desk in the very back and slumped down in the chair. He pulled out a drawing pad and began to draw, not bothering to listen to the teacher. This was going to be a long day.
He felt eyes on him and when he looked up he saw Richie had turned to look at him. When their eyes met Richie quickly turned back around, a blush creeping up his neck that did not go unnoticed. Patrick went back to drawing but with a small smile on his face.


The day dragged on and finally Patrick made it to lunch. Every teacher he had tried to get him to speak and no one succeeded. None of the students tried speaking to him like he figured.

He made his way to the cafeteria and got in line to get some food. He ended up only getting some fries and a bottle of Coke. He went to go sit at an empty table when a small group of guys stopped him.

The group of boys looked to be the bullies around here, the leader of them, a thin boy with a very outdated blonde mullet, a tall thin boy with bleached platinum blonde hair, and a heavier set boy with brown hair. They all wore scowls and Patrick wanted to roll his eyes.

"Hey new kid. I'm Henry Bowers, this is Victor, and this guy is Belch", mullet boy said.

Patrick just stared and looked bored.

"You'll learn that our gang is where you want to be and lucky for you we are taking in new members. You look like you could do some damage, what do you say?" Henry asked.

All the kids in cafeteria were staring at the Bowers gang and Patrick, waiting to see if they were getting a new bully to worry about. Patrick just walked away and he heard the angry yelling of Henry behind him.

"You'll be sorry new kid! You're gonna wish you were never born! Better watch your fucking back!" Henry yelled.

Patrick ended up outside and sat against the wall of the school, he ate the fries, drank the Coke, and smoked a cigarette. He was ready to just go home and listen to music and be alone. The new school was turning out to be shitty and he felt so out of place.

What was worse is he heard so many students talk about what had happened in his past, how they found out he had no clue but his reputation proceeded him again, even in a different fucking state! He would never be able to escape it. He would always be known as the murderer or baby killer.


That night the Hockstetters sat at the dining table for dinner. Patrick sat there picking at his food, his mom made some chicken and pasta dish but he wasn't hungry.

"How was your first day at school?" his mom asked.

Patrick shrugged and took a bite of food to give his mouth something to do to keep from having to talk.

"Son, a shrug is not answer", his dad voiced out.

Patrick glared at his dad and looked over at his mom, she had hopeful eyes and was waiting for her son to talk about his amazing teachers and friends he made. She wasn't delusional, just hopeful.

"Was fine".



Patrick sat on the roof smoking a cigarette. He was ready for his shitty day to be over but he knew it would start all over tomorrow. He bottled up all his anger and annoyance and he just wanted to release it. He pulled up one of his hoodie sleeves and pressed the lit end of his cigarette to his forearm. He heard the sizzle of his skin and smelled the faint scent of burning flesh. It honestly didn't hurt that much anymore. His arm was covered in cigarette burns and the burning was beginning to lose its edge. The intense pain he used to feel was now just a dull ache.

He took in the night air and closed his eyes to listen to all the sounds that the night had to offer. It was always peaceful and soothing, sometimes he could even forget he was trapped in his body and just felt like he could float away.

A pair of eyes had been watching him but he didn't know. Someone now knew what he did to himself in private. It made Richie feel sick to his stomach that someone could just burn themselves like that and not even make a sound. Patrick's face didn't even scrunch up in pain! There was so much to this boy that was scary but also intriguing. Maybe one day they would actually speak to each other but for now, Patrick sat on his roof, none the wiser on his actions being seen.

Chapter Text

Three months later and Patrick Hockstetter still was alone. No one at school spoke to him except for Henry Bowers when he would yell obscenities and slurs, Patrick of course wouldn't respond, no one at Derry High had heard him speak which caused rumors to fly that he was mute.

Teachers tried to get Patrick to engage with the class but he always refused. He never went up to the chalkboard to try solving a problem, he never gave an answer if a teacher called on him, and he sat alone at lunch every day.
Patrick felt lonely, ever since he moved to Derry, the sense of being alone forever kept building and it was becoming frightening. Students were too afraid to speak to him except for Henry Bowers, and even he didn't bully him often, maybe once every two weeks.

Every day was the same, go to school, go home, and then be alone all weekend in his room. He honestly thought his neighbor was going to try to talk to him a few times but it never happened. He figured the kid believed the rumors and he honestly didn't blame Richie for that.

Walking down the halls of Derry High was Patrick's least favorite thing to do. The students would part the waters when he would walk by, he felt like a freak, like everyone was afraid to accidentally touch him. Most days he let it go, but some days, some days it got to him, like today.

Henry Bowers had been harassing him between every class and even now as school let out for the day. Everyone stared and he just ignored the disgusting things Henry yelled.

"Come on bitch! Did ya not learn how to speak? You dumb or somethin'?" Henry yelled.

Patrick kept walking until he felt a hand grab his arm hard. He turned around and of course Henry had a hold of him. His other hand had a knife in it, that fucking knife he taunted everyone with, the glint of the blade was seen by everyone and a deafening silence fell into the hallway.

Now Patrick wasn't stupid, he knew that when Henry got angry enough he would go too far, like when he had apparently carved the letter H in the stomach of another student. His eyes were proof that right now he was angry enough to cause some damage.
Henry started his attempt to stab Patrick but he dodged each attempt, that is until the knife started going towards Patrick's face and his hand went up to block. Unfortunately blocking the knife caused it to stab right threw Patrick's hand, he took that moment of shock, Henry was surprised and also pleased with himself, and next thing Henry knows, the knife is pulled out of his grip, still impaled in Patrick's hand.

Gasps could be heard, some gagged at the sight of Patrick holding his hand up in front of his face, looking at the knife through his hand then pulling it out. Blood coating the knife, Patrick took the blade and licked a stripe of his blood off while keeping uncomfortable eye contact with Henry the entire time. Closing the knife and then pocketing it he surged towards Henry.

Now Henry will never admit that he felt scared in that moment but Patrick could see it in his eyes as he grabbed Henry by the throat with the hand not harmed, and shoved him hard into the lockers. He kept tightening his grip, Henry's face was red and he struggled to get out of Patrick's grasp. Henry's hands trying so hard to get Patrick to let go but the look in Patrick's eyes showed Henry that he wasn't planning on letting go.
Patrick felt Henry struggle less, he saw Henry's eyes begin to droop, that's when he let go. Henry fell to the floor, taking a deep and labored breath and his friends raced to his side. Henry's neck was red, maybe even bruising, he was still struggling to get enough air into his lungs as he watched Patrick walk away.

Every student stared, unable to speak at what they just witnessed. Patrick walked with his hand still bleeding, he finally got outside and took a deep breath of fresh air. He knew he left a blood trail but he didn't care.

"Hey! Wait!" Patrick heard behind him.

He turned to see who in the world would be following him and trying to speak to him. He saw the twink boy named Eddie running towards him and he stiffened, worrying he was going to be attacked again but the smaller boy stopped once he got to Patrick and leaned over, gripping his knees as he struggled to breathe. He took a couple puffs from an inhaler and then cleared his throat.

"Your hand, it could get infected. Sit, I can clean it and bandage it so you don't bleed out to death."

Patrick tilted his head and stared at the smaller boy wearing a pink polo shirt. His expression looked genuine so Patrick sat on the steps and looked at Eddie. Eddie let out a breath he was holding and sat down beside Patrick. He pulled out an entire first aid kit from his backpack and opened it.

"I know its unusual for a teenager to carry around a first aid kit but you never know when it will come in handy, like now!"

Patrick just watched as Eddie took out gauze, a roll of bandages, medical tape, disinfecting wipes, and antibacterial cream. He set them all in his lap and held his hand out for Patrick's hand. Patrick put his hand out and Eddie grabbed the wipes to clean Patrick's hand. It stung, Eddie warned him it would but you just aren't ever ready for it once you feel it. Patrick winced and sucked in air as he tried not to yell.

Eddie diligently cleaned off both sides of the wound, it was still bleeding so he held some gauze to each side with one hand and grabbed the antibacterial cream with his other hand and put the lid in his mouth to open the tube. Once the lid was off Eddie took the gauze off and applied the cream quickly and then put more gauze on each side of the wound and then grabbed the the roll of bandages and medical tape. He carefully taped one end of the bandage to the gauze and then began to roll it around Patrick's hand, tight to help stop the bleeding but not too tight to cut off circulation. Once Eddie deemed enough was on Patrick's hand he used his teeth to cut the bandage and tape it down. Patrick squeezed his hand, surprised at how well it was done. He sure hadn't expected someone to actually help him, let alone fix him up.

"There, that will help but you really need to go to the hospital because honestly you really need stitches and they can give you medicine to keep you from being sick, who knows what the fuck was on Bower's knife! He could have killed an animal with it or used it to get a rock out of the bottom of his boot! Oh! I'm Eddie", the smaller boy rambled.

Patrick smirked and watched Eddie start putting his stuff away.


Eddie stiffened and slowly looked up at Patrick's face. He never expected the taller boy to speak, no one heard him speak!

"Patrick, right, um I hope it didn't hurt too much, I have some pain killers if you want, my mom keeps getting them for me even though I don't need them, here", Eddie said as he handed a bottle of narcotics to his patient. Patrick took the pill bottle and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Thanks... for all of this. You really didn't have to".

Eddie held up his hand.

"Nonsense! You were dripping blood everywhere! Plus I've been on the receiving end of Bower's attacks, when I was thirteen he broke my arm, out in public, he doesn't give a fuck who sees. At least you seemed to scare him when you choked him", Eddie said.

Eddie was turning out to be an interesting person, definitely not stuck up like he had originally thought. Also this kid was a total badass for getting his arm broken by the school bully and then talk about like it was nothing.

"Damn, never thought I'd call a guy wearing a pink polo a badass".

Eddie blushed and smiled.

"I have my moments. Richie, my best friend, he is the real badass. He has saved my ass so many times, and he's taken many beatings to keep me safe" Eddie explained.

Patrick perked up when Eddie started talking about Richie, he still found his neighbor interesting and it was nice to learn something about him.

"He's my neighbor, interesting kid, he's entertaining", Patrick said smiling.

"He is good at that. I didn't know you two hung out".

"We don't. His room is across from mine, we both have windows facing each other so we get a good look into each other's rooms," Patrick told Eddie.

Patrick's phone went off and he pulled it out of his pocket to check it. He saw it was his mom so he ignored and and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

"I should get going, I was supposed to meet my friends at the bike rack, keep that hand clean! Change the bandaging every day at least, and please think about going to the hospital. I'll see you around", Eddie said and then started to walk away after giving a small wave.

Patrick waved back and thanked Eddie again and then stood up to start the walk home.



Patrick got home and ran upstairs to get to his room before his parents tried to get him to talk about his day. He turned on some music and laid in his bed. Staring at the ceiling he thought about everything that happened not too long ago. He couldn't believe he had been stabbed, choked the guy who stabbed him, and then actually held a conversation with the guy who fixed him up.

He looked at his hand and debated whether or not to tell his mom, he really didn't want stitches, they might see his arms and he didn't want to chance it.
He got up and went to grab some weed, if ever there was a time to smoke, it was now. He rolled up a joint and then opened his window to climb out onto the roof. Sitting then lighting the joint he took the deepest breath he could and held it for so long his lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen instead of the smoke that currently filled them.

"Fuuuuuuuuck", he said lazily to himself.

He sat there smoking until the joint was almost gone, he felt a little better, and he had those pills Eddie had given him, those would probably knock his ass out or get him high enough to not feel the pain. He climbed back into his room and took two of the pills, he had his fair share of hydrocodone before so he wasn't worried about taking more than one.
He laid back down and let the high from the weed wash over him with the high of the pills slowly coming his way. He smiled as he closed his eyes, he felt better already.



Patrick awoke from a terrible nightmare and sat up in his bed breathing heavily and sweating. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and got out of bed and stripped down to just his boxers. He opened his window to let in the cool air and realized how dark it was outside. He looked at his phone to see it was already one in the morning, he was surprised his mom didn't make him come down for dinner.

He opened his room door and walked downstairs to the kitchen and that's where he found a note from his parents saying they were going out for the night and they left twenty dollars for food. He took the cash and stuffed it in between the elastic of his boxers and his hip, then he opened the fridge to grab a can of tea.
He downed the tea and grabbed another before making his way back to his room. After throwing on a pair of pajama pants, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and his lighter and climbed out his window.

As he lit his cigarette he noticed he wasn't alone, on his neighbor's roof, Richie sat looking at the stars but his attention was now on Patrick. Patrick took a drag of his cigarette and stared back at Patrick.

"Take a photo, it will last longer", Patrick said as he blew out smoke.

Richie seemed to be startled by that.


Richie stood up and looked like he was going to go back inside his room but he stopped and turned to Patrick then began walking towards him, he stepped over the gap between roofs and he sat next to Patrick.

Patrick was internally freaking out, he was shirtless and his scars and burns were on full display. Richie held his hand out and Patrick handed him his cigarette. Richie took a drag and sighed after blowing the smoke out.

"I needed that. It's gotten so hard to lift these from the pharmacy since Mr. Keene started keeping better inventory. Cigs are like fucking gold right now", Richie said not even looking at Patrick.

Richie kept looking at the sky, whether he felt awkward or scared, Patrick didn't know, he was just surprised to have his neighbor speak to him at all.

"I have a fake ID. I buy them all the time. I could always grab extra if you wanted", Patrick said as Richie handed back the cigarette.

Patrick took the pack out of his pocket and offered a new one to Richie which he gladly took. Patrick held the lighter as Richie lit up and then shoved the lighter and pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

"Thanks, I'll give you some cash before you go shopping again".

Patrick nodded and they smoked in silence for a while, neither felt awkward, it was a comfortable silence that they both welcomed. Richie kept stealing glaces at Patrick, he noticed the scars and burns but he also noticed that Patrick may be skinny, but he was also tone, you could see a bit of definition at his abs, and his arms were well defined.

"So my best friend told me he patched you up after Bowers stabbed you".

Patrick smiled at the memory.

"Yeah, that little twink is pretty badass", Patrick said as he chuckled.

Richie made a surprised noise and then laughed louder than he should outside in the middle of the night. Patrick found that he enjoyed hearing Richie laugh.

"Don't ever let him hear you call him that, he may be small but he has a temper and personally I find him scarier than Bowers!"

Now it was Patrick's turn to laugh, he could tell Eddie was a little spitfire but he liked that.

"Noted. So after months of staring, what made you finally decided to speak to me? Was it the take a photo comment? Or was it because I was stabbed and your bestie nursed me back to health?" Patrick asked.

Richie seemed to look a little caught off guard by the question and even in the darkness of night, Patrick could see a tint of pink in his cheeks.

"I guess the second thing. I mean I've been meaning to, I just, I dunno, wasn't sure what to say".

"Hi is usually how people start things", Patrick teased.

Richie giggled, the guy fucking giggled which brought a smile to Patrick's lips.

"Yeah well, when you're a trashmouth like myself, you don't stick to what's normal".

They sat there in silence again and Richie looked at Patrick's arms, he saw the scars and he saw the burn marks. He wasn't sure if they were self-inflicted or from abuse but he didn't ask, he knew it was poor etiquette to ask.

"I did it to myself", Patrick stated as if he could read Richie's mind.

"I- fuck- sorry, I didn't mean to stare".

"Its cool, its why I keep myself covered. Don't need to be an even bigger freak at school".

Richie winced. He always felt bad for not inviting Patrick to sit with him and his friends. He knew the losers weren't exactly keen on the idea of inviting the "goth boy" to hang with them but Richie just couldn't stop being so fascinated and wanting to be around Patrick.

"You can chill with me at school, sit with me and my friends at lunch, you don't have to be alone", Richie said.

Better to ask for forgiveness from the losers than ask permission, at least that's what Richie thought. Eddie was the one most hesitant to invite Patrick in their group but after the medical care he gave Patrick, he seemed more open to the idea.

"Thanks, but are you sure you really want the guy who kills boys and worships the devil around?"

Richie felt bad as he realized Patrick had heard everything students were saying, specifically what Eddie had said.

"I'm so sorry you heard that. Eddie was, well he's been raised with lies constantly being shoved down his throat. He definitely doesn't think that, just repeating what his mom had said", Richie explained hoping Patrick wasn't angry.

"Its cool. I thought it was funny and way more original than what I usually hear. Plus my taste in music was complimented so I was fine".

Richie blushed as he realized he was overheard as well. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. Patrick thought it was cute how flustered Richie got. He definitely decided to make a point to make him flustered any chance he got.

"I saw you have a rainbow flag on your wall..." Richie started but trailed off.

"Yeah, pride flag, although I get the feeling that I should be careful with who sees it", Patrick said.

Richie nodded sadly. He didn't want to go into detail how homophobic Derry was or how a gay couple, Don and Adrian, were beaten and killed only five years ago simply for being in love with each other.

"Well damn, how the fuck am I supposed to get laid?" Patrick joked.

Richie looked at him with wide eyes in disbelief at how blunt the question was.

"No one is out so hell if I know", Richie whispered.

Patrick heard something in Richie's voice, sadness? Pain? Regret? He tried to gauge Richie's expression but it was blank, almost as if it was hiding something.

"Too bad, I've been so fucking lonely, I had a fuck buddy back in New York but when things went to shit, he bailed on me. I guess I shouldn't be so upset, I mean not like we were dating, but still, he was my friend".

Richie couldn't think of anything to say, he had already said more than he should have. He didn't need Patrick realizing his dirty little secret, even if he would be the one to understand him out of everyone else in this crazy town.
Patrick felt a stronger gust of wind and shivered, not even thinking he scooted closer to Richie for warmth. He realized he had made Richie uncomfortable when their shoulders brushed together and Richie jumped.

"Sorry, I know you probably don't want the queer touching you..."

Richie felt like shit. He hadn't meant to seem homophobic. He was just startled at the feeling. He felt a jolt of electricity when Patrick came into contact with him and it startled him. Richie looked Patrick in the eyes and slowly lifted his hand to grab Patrick's and squeezed gently. Patrick just stared at their hands and he didn't know what to say. Was this Richie's way of assuring him that there was no judgment? It felt nice, but it also felt like so much more.

Their fingers intertwined felt so warm and safe to Patrick. He felt this charge, he didn't want it to end but Richie let go and cleared his throat.
They sat there, neither looking at the other or saying a word. Richie cautiously laid his head on Patrick's shoulder and when he felt no tension, he relaxed into it. Patrick smiled but didn't dare look at Richie. The moment was far too intimate to move and possibly ruin it so he just kept looking at the stars in the sky and felt a little comfort for once since he moved to Derry.

Chapter Text

Surrounded by darkness, suffocated by silence, drowning in nothingness. Patrick could only see black. He could hear nothing. He tried to scream but no sound came out. His body wouldn't move. It was as if his consciousness was the only thing left of him.

He was trapped. He tried to fight it. It had to be a dream, right? Or worse, what if he was dead? He must be dead. This was the gruesome afterlife. The atheists were right, it was nothing, except you didn't just go away, you were stuck in nothing for all of eternity.

Patrick couldn't breathe. He wanted to cry. Why did this happen? How did he die? He was fine when he went to bed.


Patrick woke up and shot himself up breathing heavily. He was drenched in sweat even though the only clothing he wore was his boxers. He wiped his face up and down, and was relieved to feel himself.

It was just a nightmare. A horrible sickening nightmare. He was alive, he was able to see everything in his room.
That's when he noticed he was not alone. He looked over to see Richie asleep next to him on his side facing away from Patrick.

What the fuck happened?

Patrick got out of bed and threw on his pajama pants and gathered up clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower.
He had the water on cold, feeling more alive each second he stood under the water. He washed his hair and tried to remember what happened last night. He was pretty sure nothing happened between him and Richie.

Once out of the shower he put on clean boxers, skinny jeans, and a t-shirt. His dirty clothes went into the hamper his mom had got him to try to keep dirty clothes off his bedroom floor.
He walked back into his room to see Richie sitting up in his bed scratching his head. He looked up to see Patrick and he smiled. That smile should not affect him the way it does but he squashes the weird feelings down.

"Uh, morning. What happened? Did we...?"

Richie laughed and honestly after the nightmare Patrick had, Richie's laughter was music to his ears as cliche as that may be.

"No, you said you didn't want to go to bed because you didn't want to be alone. I asked if you wanted me to sleep with you, like just sleep, and you said yes so here I am", Richie explained.

Patrick hummed in response and sat on his bed facing Richie. Richie looked goddamn gorgeous in the morning and it make Patrick just a little jealous that he always looked like shit in the mornings.

"Were you expecting me to sleep with you? I'm not that easy", Richie said with a wink.

Patrick blushed, he hated when that happened. He didn't blush often but when he did he wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

"I just meant... I've woken up in beds that weren't mine and didn't remember fucking the person, I was just checking. I think those pain killers Eddie gave me fucked me up".

Richie nodded and smiled warmly. He honestly was trying to make the guy smile but it fell short. Patrick wasn't sure what to say but thankfully Richie ended the silence.

"Can I confess something to you?"

"Only if you say forgive me father for I have sinned first", Patrick teased.

Richie chuckled at that.

"Last night when you told me you gave yourself the burns, I uh, I saw you do that one night. I wasn't spying I swear! I just looked out the window and I saw it. Wasn't sure if you had abusive parents who did that shit to you and you punished yourself that way too," Richie said rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from Patrick.

Patrick was a little taken aback. He never had anyone think he was in a bad situation. It almost made him feel cared for which was strange.

"Nah, my parents are too caught up in their own shit to even think of abusing me."

Patrick's mom started knocking on his door and Patrick exhaled loudly. He quickly put on a hoodie and opened the door just enough to poke his head out.


"Honey, you father and I were planning on taking a day trip to Bangor, do some shopping, I left you some cash on the counter. Why are you barely opening your door?"

Patrick rolled his eyes.

"Mom, maybe a guy needs privacy sometimes".

Patrick's mom huffed and squinted her eyes.

"I swear if you have a girl in there-"

"I don't!"

Patrick's mom looked as if she didn't believe him. She didn't like things being hidden from her. Suddenly she pushed the door open hard and walked in. Patrick didn't have time to react and he turned around watching the scene unfold. His mom was just staring at Richie, confusion, anger, more confusion, and finally she turned to her son.

"Seriously Patrick? A guy? I swear ever since Avery-"

"Shut the fuck up!"  Patrick yelled.

His mom looked stunned at first and then she looked angry. This was not Patrick's morning. He was in so much trouble.

"We will talk about this when your father and I get home, he is not going to be pleased about this, you know his feelings on that lifestyle."

Patrick put his face in his hands. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch a wall. He just wanted his mom to fucking listen to him for a change instead of assuming everything.

"Nothing happened between us. We just slept ok?"

Richie was still sitting on Patrick's bed unsure of what to do in this situation. He didn't want to make things worse or butt in where he didn't belong.

"Teenage boys don't sleep in the same bed as other teenage boys, its too gay!"

Patrick was about to lose it. He hadn't had any coffee yet, he was still groggy, that nightmare was still making him feel weird, and he hated his mom's yelling.

"Forget it, go shop with dad", Patrick said as he turned around to flop on his bed.

With a huff his mom slammed his door and stomped downstairs. Patrick groaned and covered his face with his hands and didn't want anyone to ever look at him again.

"I don't supposed you'd be interested in a spite fuck would you?" Patrick asked after a few minutes of silence.

Richie laughed and moved Patrick's hands away from his face. His bright smile actually got Patrick to smile and bring his anger down.

"As sweet of an offer that is, I don't think fucking right now is the best thing for you".

Well Richie was actually making sense. Mature adult sense and it was so unexpected. He had meant that question as a joke, 'haha jk, unless...' but he hadn't expected an answer like that. He sat up and stared at Richie.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that. Its fucking embarrassing", Patrick groaned.

Richie put his hand on Patrick's shoulder and gently squeezed. The touch was so comforting and Patrick didn't realize just how touch starved he was until he felt like tearing up.

"Could I possibly stay in your room tonight? I really don't want to be here when my dad gets back. He won't hit me, but I just can't handle the shit he is gonna say".

"Of course. My window is always unlocked so whenever you need to escape you are welcome to do so, just peak and make sure I'm not jerking it before you tumble on in", Richie said with a laugh.

Patrick shook his head and smiled. Richie was good at cheering people up. He wondered if this awkward boy knew that, he also had kind eyes, unruly curly hair that fell in his face, a warm smile with slightly crooked teeth, and freckles, damn those freckles were cute. He liked a lot of things about Richie.
The air around them changed and Patrick felt a charge flow through him. He had the sudden urge to pounce on Richie and pin him down on his bed. Of course he couldn't do that but for some reason his mind was just doing its best to make him cave into temptation. Richie could see the conflict in Patrick's eyes and he wondered what was going on in the that mysterious mind that was Patrick Hockstetter.

Patrick shook his head and he was back into the real world again.

"So what adventure did your mind take you on while staring at me? I know I'm nice to look at, but as someone once told me, take a picture, it will last longer", Richie said as he steadily leaned in closer to Patrick. By the time the last word left his mouth his voice had gone softer and his lips were almost touching Patrick's ear. The hot breath on Patrick's ear tickled and he had to hold in a giggle that tried to escape.

Richie leaned back to where he was sitting and smirked. That little shit knew exactly what he was doing. He had to know that he was causing Patrick's jeans to become too tight. His eyes were wide and his body was screaming to do something about his aching cock. He wouldn't rub it to relieve some of pressure, he wouldn't try to adjust himself, he was sitting right there and refusing to move.
That will show him. At least that's what he had hoped but it seemed Richie was just as devious. Amusement twinkled in his eyes and that damn smirk really needed to be wiped off those incredibly pink and soft looking lips.
What the fuck was going on with Patrick's body? Hormones? He was never a horndog before, yeah he fucked people but he never felt this want, no need, and it was driving him nuts. Who the fuck does Richie think he is? Apparently a sadist.

"I gotta go, enjoy handling that pressing matter, I'll see you later", Richie said as he stood up and made his way to the window with a wink.

Patrick just watched in shock as he watched his neighbor leave his room through the window and disappeared. Now Patrick was even more turned on. The fucker.
The window was closed and his cd player had music blaring, Marilyn Manson, and he quickly took his dick out of his pants to jerk off. That hot moment with Richie played over and over again in his mind. Honestly it shouldn't have even been that hot but apparently Richie knew the way to his dick. He came harder than he ever had and was panting afterwards. He laid there for a good minute or two before cleaning himself up and stuffing his dick back in his pants.

That was interesting. Who the fuck is this guy?

Chapter Text

Later that night, Patrick heard his parent's car pull into the driveway and that was his cue to run. He was not going to listen to his parents bitch about something that didn't even happen. He crawled through his window, closed the window but left it open a crack so he could get back inside, then he walked over to Richie's roof and slid the window open.

He was surprised to see Eddie in Richie's room with no Richie to be found. Eddie stared at Patrick very confused.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eddie asked.

Patrick ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of the best way to explain without going into detail.

"Uh well, Richie is expecting me?", Patrick said but it sounded more like a question than an answer.

Eddie shook his head but before he could say anything Richie walked back in his room. He saw his neighbor and grinned.

"I see the 'rents are back, you're welcome to hide here as long as you want", Richie said.

Eddie still had no clue what was going on, he looked at Patrick, then at Richie, then back again at Patrick. He felt like something had happened that he wasn't aware of and it annoyed him that Richie hadn't told him what.

"Uh, care to explain Tozier?"

Richie grinned at Eddie but shook his head.

"Nah, its nothing, come on, lets put on that movie now, mom is making the popcorn", Richie said as he went over to his t.v. and grabbed the movie and was setting everything up when Patrick got a look at what movie they were watching, Pet Semetary.

Richie's mom had brought in the popcorn and noticed there was one more boy than she was aware of so she introduced herself. She wondered how she could have possibly missed one of Richie's friends arrive without her knowing, she figured she could have been in her room or something. She left the boys to their scary movie and she turned the lights off per Richie's request.
Richie sat on his bed, his back to the wall and legs out, Eddie sat with his back to the headboard and his legs over Richie's, that was always how they sat when watching a movie. Patrick felt slightly out of place but he sat next to Richie but not too close so he wasn't touching Eddie's feet.

Patrick would glance at the other two every so often, noticing the glances Eddie made towards Richie, and watching when Eddie would quickly turn his attention back to the movie if Richie seemed like he was going to notice.
The movie was entertaining, after all it was a remake so the story itself was already known but Patrick was getting into it, that is until it got to the part where the cat died. That's when Patrick felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head, behind his eyes, and he winced, closing his eyes, he saw himself, by a refrigerator. He felt nauseous but he wasn't sure why. He saw fur where the fridge was open just a little, and then Patrick opened his eyes.

He felt panicked and he was sweating but he turned to look at Eddie and Richie and neither of them noticed Patrick freaking out. He couldn't have imagined that, after all, he was seeing things in his head, so how can he imagine himself imagining something?
The movie continued on and Patrick began to feel less jittery. He would never hurt a animal but what he saw seemed so real. He would feel sick when he would bring back that image so he decided to ignore it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Richie move his hand to rest on the bed between them. He looked and saw Richie glance at him and gave him a small smile. Patrick slowly put his hand down next to Richie's. His heart began to beat fast and then he felt the soft touch of Richie's pinkie finger on top of his. Patrick wasn't sure what to do but smiled without even looking away from the movie. He felt Richie use his own pinkie finger to rub his. Patrick was thankful for the darkness because he could feel himself blushing. Richie smiled as he continued to watch the movie. They kept their hands like that for the rest of the movie.

Once the movie was over, they all talked about their favorite parts and not so favorite parts.

"I guess I'd say I liked the cat the best, I mean I love cats and the cats who played him are all so cute. One even wore a bow tie to the premiere!" Eddie exclaimed with a smile.

"I liked how it ended, I wasn't expecting it to end that way!" Richie said next.

"I like when the cat died", Patrick said without thinking, quickly realized what words he spoke and seeing the looks on Eddie and Richie's faces, he cleared his throat and added on, "I mean because he turns into the demon cat, ya know? Like it was cool when he died and then came back from the dead and was evil so yeah. Him dying to become the evil version was what I meant".

Patrick hoped it worked, he couldn't believe he even said what he did.

"Ahh yeah I know what you mean! That was pretty cool!" Richie said just a bit too loudly.

Relief flooded Patrick and he was able to breathe normally again. That was a close call, he was almost going to be forever known as the animal hater.

Eddie had to leave shortly after the movie, Richie had planned on him staying the night but Sonia, the bitch, changed her mind at the last minute and said Eddie couldn't stay all night.

"Bye Eddie Spaghetti! Hopefully next time you can stay all night!" Richie said as he waved from his front door.

"Don't call me that Trashmouth! You know I hate it!" Eddie yelled back.

"You love it!" Richie yelled and then closed the door.

Richie and Patrick walked back up to Richie's room and sat on the floor. Patrick knew he should go back to his house, his parents were probably getting ready for bed.

"So how long you gonna avoid your parents?"

Patrick thought about it. He really wasn't sure. He couldn't avoid them forever, he lived in their house, he also knew he was not wanting to deal with them. Things used to be simpler.

"I don't know. I don't have the energy to deal with them or even think about them", Patrick answered.

Richie could understand that, he used to be in the closet with his parents until his mom found dirty magazines in his room and not the normal kind. The magazines weren't photos of scantily clad or naked women, it was photos of men. His parents had confronted him when he had come home from school and he remembered crying in fear but his parents assured him they would love him no matter what. They supported him and always hinted at Richie having more than just platonic feelings for Eddie.

Richie scooted back so he could lean against his bed. Earlier that day he had been flirting a lot with Patrick and being a tease, then he held Patrick's pinkie during the movie! Now, he felt shy and didn't know why. Maybe because they were in his room alone this time, maybe that stroke of bravery was beginners luck. Whatever it was, he wished he had that right now. Patrick looked so pretty to him. He wished he could run his fingers through Patrick's hair or lightly stroke his arm. He felt compelled to touch but he didn't feel right about it. The lights were on, they weren't high or drunk, everything about the moment was too sober.

"Thanks for letting me stay over for a while", Patrick interrupted Richie's thoughts.

Richie smiled but tried to act nonchalant about it.

"No worries", he said.

Patrick smirked, he could tell Richie was trying to act cool and it was kind of cute. Richie's cheeks began to tint pink as he saw Patrick smirk. That damn smirk should be illegal, it was way too hot.

"You're blushing", Patrick pointed out.

That made Richie blush several more shades of red.

"Am not! Its just warm in here", he huffed.

Patrick laughed then stood up and Richie followed, knowing his neighbor was about to go back home. He would miss the company.

"I should head back, parents are probably asleep by now".

Richie opened his window and felt his blush creeping back as he felt Patrick extremely close to him behind him. He held his breath and tried not to act like a damn middle school girl with a crush. Richie turned back around and yes, Patrick was very close to him. He looked at Patrick, trying to read him but no luck. Patrick's eyes looked almost hungry, but not for food.

"You're always welcome to hide here again", Richie squeaked out, hating how his voice broke.

Patrick could tell Richie was nervous and this time, it was his turn. His turn to leave Richie wanting more. His turn to flirt shamelessly before taking off. He leaned in close to Richie, his face inches away, their lips almost touching. He saw Richie's eyes widen and there it was. He knew he had him. He smirked again and slid away to crawl out the window leaving a very stunned Richie in his room. Richie looked out the window and watched Patrick go back to his room. He deserved that, but now he had to take a shower and take care of the boner he got. Karma could be a real bitch.
Patrick opened his window and quietly entered his room and laid on his bed. At least he managed to avoid one uncomfortable confrontation and now he could sleep.



Glowing yellow eyes stared menacingly at Patrick. He heard laughter and felt a damp cold. Wherever he was, it was pitch black. Those eyes still gazing at him and he felt his blood run cold. What could that be? Those eyes don't look like anything he had ever seen before. He turned around to run the other way but the eyes were there too! He turned back around and the eyes were in the direction he was first in. No matter where he turned they were there.He heard creepy music that began to grow louder and louder, the laughter he heard was becoming louder as well. He covered his ears trying to block out the sound but it didn't work. He fell to his knees, still covering his ears and he began to scream.



Patrick's eyes shot open and he sat up looking around, it was early morning, the sun had already started rising and he was breathing heavily. Another nightmare. He frowned, why was he having so many nightmares? Oh well, he might as well get dressed and head downstairs, he needed coffee.

Patrick got downstairs and saw his father reading the news on his phone while eating pancakes. Patrick's mother set down a glass of orange juice for her husband and noticed her son. She didn't say anything to him but she went to pour him a mug of coffee and handed it to him as he sat down at the table. She looked displeased and he knew it was coming. What he didn't expect was for it to come from his father.

"Your mother and I had an uncomfortable talk yesterday. This isn't something I want to discuss but your mother was adamant that you had over someone overnight".

Patrick groaned and took a deep breath."No dad, its not like that. First of all, mom assumed everything she told you once she saw my friend in my room. Second, nothing happened because he is my friend. Third, no I'm not fucking a dude here" Patrick explained sounded exasperated.

"Patrick! Language!" his mother said in a shrill tone.

"Oh fuck off. You got your panties in a twist because you assumed something and you wouldn't listen! You could have had a nice day shopping with dad if you had just shut up for one second and listened to what I had to say instead of assuming I was fucking our neighbor!" Patrick yelled.

Before his mom could speak, Patrick's dad held up a hand.

"So this was all a misunderstanding? You weren't having sex with a guy? Your mother just assumed you were a homosexual because your friend was in your room? That's your story?"

Patrick nodded, he looked at his father with pleading eyes, trying to show how sincere he was.

"Ok. Finish your breakfast. Sweetheart, lets work on jumping to conclusions".
Patrick's mom nodded and glared at Patrick. She didn't believe him, or maybe she had wanted it to be true so he would get in trouble. He wasn't sure but he took his coffee to his room and locked his door.

"Fuck me".

Chapter Text

A few weeks had gone by and things were pretty much predicable and mundane. He would go to school, still not talk to anyone, maybe wave at Richie, then go home. He knows Richie wanted him to hang around him and his friends at school but he feels out of place around the club of losers, for some reason they liked to call themselves losers. He knew the others didn't trust him or were scared of him so he stayed away.

Patrick didn't mind being alone, he felt comfortable around Richie but he got the feeling Eddie wasn't too fond of him hanging around Richie that much. The kid was nice, even checked on Patrick's hand, but he felt like maybe Eddie felt obligated to act like he cared.

A week ago Patrick had downloaded Grindr and every day he was bringing a different guy home. He wanted to stick it to the man (his father) and have loud gay sex in his room while his parents were home. Did his parents even notice? No, but it was still fun to do something he knew would piss them off and disgust them.

Today he was bringing home a guy that was different than the others, usually the guys were shorter than him and submissive as fuck, which Patrick didn't mind at all, he liked to be in control and make the guy he was fucking into a babbling mess. This time though, the guy was taller than him, he kind of liked it, and this guy seemed to radiate dominance.

Now Patrick didn't mind a fight for control, it was fun for him, but this guy, this guy was awakening something in Patrick that he didn't know was even there.
They had gone into Patrick's room and as soon as the door was shut, Patrick felt his back slam into the door and the guy's hands on his lips tightly, that will probably leave bruises, and Patrick felt his neck being kissed, licked, and bitten.

This was really new since he was usually the one doing all that but a moan escaping his mouth proved he enjoyed it. He felt the guy smirk against his neck and it clicked, this guy was most likely a switch and he knew Patrick was a top and he took it upon himself to top Patrick.

The guy, Aaron, was attractive, very tan skin, green eyes, and his hair was dyed blue and green. He dressed similar to Patrick which was what first caught Patrick's eye, he had many tattoos covering his arms and several piercings in his ears. He had his eyebrow pierced and his upper lip pierced twice, one on each side, and his lower lip pierced once in the middle.

"Are you actually making a point to top a top?" Patrick asked.

Aaron smirked and crashed their lips together. Patrick would be lying if he said this wasn't getting him going, he was already getting hard and he liked the way Aaron touched him. His touches made Patrick feel desired and it was a new feeling. He was used to needy touches, not like he was being craved.

Patrick started to push Aaron backwards towards his bed and once Aaron felt the bed hit the back of his knees he sat down. Patrick climbed on top of him and pushed him down so Aaron's back was on the bed. Patrick might like the new sensations he was feeling but he wasn't to go down without a fight, if this guy really wanted to top him, he would have to fight for it.

Patrick leaned in to suck a large hicky on Aaron's neck. Then he slow kissed his way back to Aaron's lips. Once their lips were back together Patrick was grabbed and he felt Aaron switch their places in one swift motion. One second Patrick was on top and the next he was under Aaron. The surprised look on his face made Aaron chuckle.
Anytime Patrick would fight for control Aaron would show who was really in charge. He had grabbed both of Patrick's wrists and held them above his head as he would achingly grind down and make Patrick whimper.


"You like that baby? Who's the top now? I seem to recall you calling yourself a top, doesn't look that way to me, you just look like a pretty little slutty sub underneath me", Aaron said in a low voice. It also didn't help that his mouth was by Patrick's ear so the hot breath tickled causing Patrick to squirm and whine.

Aaron began to undress Patrick quickly, pulling off Patrick's hoodie and shirt, before Patrick could even try to cover himself his hands were back to being over his head and held down by one of Aaron's hand, the other undoing Patrick's jeans. Patrick looked away and blushed, he never took his clothes off when he fucked someone, he never wanted his flings to see his scars, now he was completely exposed.

The surprised look on Aaron's face once he had completely stripped Patrick turned sweet. Not the usual demeanor he had, he moved Patrick's head by his chin to make the boy under him give him eye contact. Patrick begrudgingly gave Aaron eye contact and he felt so ugly and embarrassed.

"Hey, whatever you're feeling, its not true. You're beautiful", Aaron said softly.

Patrick's eyes widen and he looked away again. He knew it was a lie, no one thought he was beautiful, he was really thin and too tall, and he mutilated his body to just ugly scars. He felt Aaron move his head again to make Patrick look at him again.

"I'm serious. This isn't me trying to top you or get in your pants, this is me telling you that you're hot. Those scars don't change that".

Patrick felt hot tears start falling and his wrists were let go. He covered his face with his hand but it was quickly moved away and Aaron was close to his face.

"We can stop if you want, I won't be upset", Aaron told him.

"No, its fine. Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm fucking crying like a dork. I promise this never happens."

Aaron smiled and stroked Patrick's cheek. Patrick leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

"You sure you want to keep going?" Aaron asked just to be sure.

Patrick nodded and pulled Aaron down for a slow languid kiss, Patrick tugging at Aaron's clothes and their kiss was only broken so Aaron could strip quickly and he was back on Patrick kissing him and letting his hands roam Patrick's body. Patrick was hesitant to touch Aaron but he slowly let his fingers glide across Aaron's skin. They kept to this pace for a while, enjoying the other's touches and Aaron using his fingers to stretch out Patrick. Patrick never knew how good it felt to have someone's fingers in his ass and when Aaron hit that wonderful spot, Patrick saw stars and he arched his back and moaned loudly. Aaron kept hitting that spot and now Patrick knew how it felt to be a babbling mess.

"Do you have a condom?"

Patrick nodded and sat up just far enough to grab one out of his drawer from his bedside table. Aaron ripped the foil and expertly rolled the condom on his dick and then took the lube he used to finger Patrick and rubbed a generous amount on his dick.

"You ready?"

"Yeah, fuck me", Patrick said determined.

Aaron slowly began to insert his dick into Patrick and every little sound Patrick made, he would stop and give Patrick a moment to get used to it. When Aaron was given the ok to keep going he would go slow until he was completely inside. They were both still, letting Patrick get used to the stretch.

"You can move".

Aaron slowly pulled out until only the head remained inside and he slowly pushed back in. Patrick moaned and his breathing grew faster. Aaron picked up the pace a bit which Patrick really liked.

"Fuck! Faster!"

Aaron obliged and he began to fuck Patrick as fast and as hard as he could. Patrick's whines and moans were so loud, how could his parents not notice? Then Aaron hit Patrick's prostate and Patrick was babbling but Aaron could could only understand a word here and there. He could feel Patrick tighten around him and he knew he was getting close. He grabbed Patrick's dick and began pumping to the rhythm of his thrusts. It wasn't long until Patrick came, the thrusts inside him as he was riding out his orgasm felt amazing and Aaron followed shortly after.
Aaron collapsed on Patrick and they laid there for a while, catching their breath. Finally when they both didn't feel like jell-o anymore Aaron pulled out and threw away the condom. Patrick grabbed a towel he had on the floor by his bed and he cleaned himself off and then offered the towel to Aaron.

Once both boys were fully clothed again Aaron kissed Patrick one more time before grabbing his things to head out.

"That was fun".

"Yeah, it was, shoot me message if you ever want to hook up again", Aaron said as he smiled.

Patrick nodded and Aaron opened the room door and walked out. Patrick grabbed his his cigarettes and lighter. He crawled out the window and lit his cigarette. After sex cigarettes were his favorite. He noticed Richie's window was open but didn't see his neighbor anywhere.

Little did he know that Richie had heard everything since both of their windows were open. He was sitting with his back to the wall by his window, dick in his hand and panting hard. He could never tell Patrick he got off to hearing him have sex. No, no one could ever know.

Chapter Text

It was late at night in the small town of Derry, most people were asleep. However Patrick Hockstetter was wide awake and sitting on his roof smoking a joint. It had been a few weeks since he slept with Aaron and as much as he wanted, he couldn't bring himself to text Aaron to hook up again. In fact he hadn't slept with anyone else since then, he didn't know why, he didn't have any romantic feelings for the guy. He was honestly more focused on how annoyed he was that Richie seemed to be avoiding him and he didn't even know why. Richie would turn the other way if he saw Patrick. He would leave his roof if Patrick came out his window. Patrick was frustrated and also worried he had done something wrong. Maybe Richie noticed all the guys he brought over and thought he was a slut. If that was the case Patrick would be more than pissed.
The sound of Richie's window opening pulled Patrick out of his thoughts. He saw his neighbor crawl out and slowly make his way to his favorite spot to sit. Maybe he didn't notice Patrick or maybe he just didn't care.

"Done avoiding me?" Patrick asked.

Richie startled and was close to falling off the roof. He managed to not yelp thankfully, in the dead of night their neighborhood was silent. Even Patrick's own breathing felt too loud to him.

"You scared the hell out of me!" Richie said annoyed.

Patrick shrugged and took another drag of his joint. He honestly just wanted some answers, wanted to know what the fuck he did to warrant being ignored.

"I haven't been avoiding you", Richie said softly but refusing to look at Patrick.

Patrick scoffed and put out his joint, waited a minute, then tucked it on his ear to save for later. He was almost too high to deal with bullshit and he wanted to have some wits about him.


Richie winced at that. He knew it wasn't convincing. He wasn't exactly subtle about it, the curse of being the way he was, everything he did was over exaggerated and seen by all. His attention seeking caused things to not slip by people unless it was something life or death. So Richie made his way over to Patrick's roof and sat down next to the very person he had been avoiding for weeks.
Its not like he hated Patrick, far from it. He had no clue how to act around him after that day he heard Patrick being fucked. Usually Richie had detention or was out with the losers club after school but this one fateful day, he actually didn't receive any detention and all the losers were busy so he went home. Big mistake.

Richie had heard everything and and it wouldn't have been such a big deal if he hadn't liked it so much. If he had just closed his window instead of listening in like a pervert. Then of course his body reacted to what he heard and before he knew it, he had his dick in his hand and felt like the worst person in the world getting off to hearing his neighbor being fucked.
He didn't want to tell Patrick all that but he knew he couldn't act normal around him, he had hoped if he stayed away for a while then the awkwardness would go away but unfortunately for him it didn't.

"I uh, just been having some weird shit going on", Richie said still refusing to look at Patrick.

"Which makes you have to treat me like I have the plague?"

Patrick was annoyed and was close to just getting up and going back inside. He didn't need Richie's attention or friendship, he thought something might have been there, whether just friendship or more, he was so sure he hadn't imagined it. Although with the nightly nightmares maybe he had imagined it.

"I can't explain, I just felt awkward around you and was hoping some time away would fix it", Richie said hoping that would suffice.

It didn't.

"Look if you are slut shaming me for all those guys I brought home then fuck you".

Richie finally looked at Patrick with wide eyes. Guys? As in plural? Richie only knew about that one guy, there were more? Richie was blushing furiously and his leg was jiggling up and down, forever having restless leg syndrome.

"I only knew about one guy, your window was open and mine was too and I actually came home right after school for once..."

Patrick realized Richie had heard one of his sexual conquests, how much he didn't know, but he was mortified. He also didn't know which time Richie had heard either, it couldn't have been the last time, hearing what Patrick did was bad enough but hearing Patrick get topped would make him want to die.


Richie fidgeted for a minute, either trying to decide what to say or maybe not answer at all.

"I heard you call the guy Aaron..." Richie's voiced cracked when he said the name.

Patrick felt his entire body blush and he grabbed the joint he had put away for later and lit it. Taking a nice long drag and ignoring his hand shaking he tried to make himself speak.

"Um, how much did you hear?"

"All of it?" Richie said but it came out more as a question.

Well that was it, Patrick could go off somewhere and die alone. There was no recovering from this. His fucking neighbor, one he was attracted to, heard him getting his ass pounded and whining like a bitch. He finished the joint and still felt on edge. Maybe if he jumped off the roof he would end up in a coma, then he wouldn't have to deal with this. He looked down trying to figure out how dangerous that would be.

"I'm so sorry", Richie whispered.

That apology brought Patrick back to the present. Why in the world was Richie apologizing? He did nothing wrong right? What if he recorded it? What if this was an elaborate way to say ha ha fuck you, I'm blackmailing you!

"What did you do?" Patrick asked paranoid.

"Nothing!" Richie insisted but Patrick could hear the guilt in Richie's voice.

"What the fuck did you do?! Record it? Are you going to blackmail me or something? Did you invite people over to listen to the scary kid get fucked?"

Richie wasn't even paying attention to what Patrick was saying, he was trying to keep the truth inside but it just wanted to come out so badly.

"I got off to it! I didn't mean to!" Richie yelled then put his face in his hands.

Patrick froze, mouth open from talking and stared at his neighbor. He lowered the hand that had been moving around while he was speaking and couldn't think of a single word to say. Richie was shaking and terrified, Patrick was shocked and felt like his brain malfunctioned.

"Please don't be mad, I just, I don't know, I just heard it and I shouldn't have listened but you sounded so good, and next thing I know my dick is in my hand!"

Patrick still couldn't think of anything to say. What do you say to that? One thing is, the cute boy next door found him attractive and it was kind of hot to know he got off hearing him having sex. Then there was the fact that Richie had heard everything, every word, every sound! So that was embarrassing!

"If you hate me just tell me now, I'll leave you alone and never talk to you if you want, just please say something!" Richie begged.

"I uh... fuck", was all Patrick could get out.

The two boys stared at each other, both scared and unsure of what to do. Should they pretend it never happened? Should they talk about their feelings? What do people do in these situations? Probably not confess like Richie had but that was besides the point.

"I need to use the sleep", Patrick mumbled and got up to go inside his room leaving a very confused Richie outside.

"Need to what? The fuck?" Richie said before getting up and heading back to his room feeling even more ashamed and confused.



Patrick was slowly being pulled under water. He could feel the strong grasp the water had on him. He tried to get away but the more he struggled, the more the water won. He was engulfed into pure darkness and holding his breath until his lunge felt like they were on fire. He let out a breath, prepared to inhale water but he could breathe. How could he breathe underwater?

He saw glowing yellow eyes, those eyes he had come to know well, never seeing a body, just those damn eyes and  hearing the giggles of children. He tried to scream but the water kept his scream in his throat. He tried to swim away from the eyes but something was pulling him closer and closer to those eyes. That's when he noticed white. White teeth. White sharp monster teeth. This was it, this would be his last moment and he had to spend it underwater, staring at scary yellow eyes and sharp teeth. The stench of blood was overwhelming to the point he felt like he was about to vomit.




Patrick bolted up panting, another fucking nightmare. Those nightmares kept him up and he was getting less and less sleep. It was making the bags under his eyes become permanent and the feeling of exhaustion unending. Is this how people went insane? Not getting sleep and having nightmares? He looked at the clock to see it was only four in the morning. He fell back and tried to get more sleep.

Sleep was not going to come back so Patrick listened to music and laid in bed wishing he could just fucking sleep. He also wished he could get laid but he was a wreck.

"Hey", a voice came from the window.
Patrick recognized it before even looking over. It was Richie. He was only wearing boxers and a Pokemon t-shirt and it was cute. Patrick looked down at his own body, only wearing boxers and he felt a little self conscious but tried to ignore it. He sat up and motioned for Richie to come on in his room so Richie did. He sat on Patrick's bed. There was space between them and neither knew what to say for a bit.

"What do yo-" Patrick stopped as he turned his head and realized Richie had gotten closer to him and now their noses almost touched.

Patrick's breath hitched and he quickly turned his head away and cleared his throat. He really wished he had grabbed a shirt now.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, again", Richie said looking down.

Patrick looked back over at Richie and he was unsure of what to do or say. Richie looked up and Patrick could see fear in his eyes. What frightened Patrick was for a second he liked what he saw. He quickly pushed that away and he leaned in just a little as did Richie. He felt Richie place his hand on his cheek and Patrick leaned into the touch. He felt Richie pull his face closer until Patrick could feel Richie's breath on his face. Patrick and Richie tilted there heads, so close to closing the gap to their lips when they were startled by Patrick's mother banging on the door.

"Patrick! Get up!"

Patrick had jumped away from Richie, almost falling off his bed and Richie was frozen in fear.

"I'm up!" Patrick yelled and he listened for his mother's footsteps to get more and more distant.

"I should go", Richie said quickly and ran to Patrick's window and then he was gone.

Patrick groaned and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. His mom was such a cock block at times. He was also shocked at what almost just happened. Richie was going to kiss him, and Patrick was going to let him.

"Fuck me".



Patrick wasn't sure how it happened, but after school he had Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak in his room. Eddie was walking around looking at everything, scrunching his nose at everything he found questionable, Richie was sitting on his bed, chill as can be even though he had almost kissed him not too long ago. Patrick was standing at his window smoking a cigarette, Eddie was not happy about that, but at least he was nice enough to blow the smoke outside.

"So you like all this... stuff?" Eddie asked almost unsure he wanted an answer.

Patrick nodded. He got the feeling Eddie didn't want to be there, and he honestly felt weird having the little guy in his room since they barely spoke to each other. Richie announced he had to take a leak and then it was just Eddie and Patrick.

"So, what are your intentions with my best friend?" Eddie asked staring Patrick down and crossing his arms.

Patrick coughed and looked at Eddie like he grew an extra head.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you trying to be his friend? Are you trying to get in his pants?" Eddie asked.

"Why does that matter to you?"

"It matters to me because I care about him, He is my best friend so answer the question. Richie can be sensitive and care too much. I don't want him getting hurt", Eddie explained as his voice softened talking about Richie.

Patrick took the last drag of his cigarette and then went to sit on his bed. He ran his fingers over the scar he had on his hand from being stabbed by Henry, the wound Eddie had bandaged up.

"He's just a friend, don't worry, I'm not trying to steal him from you", Patrick muttered.

Eddie's cheeks flushed and he sputtered out, "What?"

"It doesn't take a genius to see you like him".

Eddie stared, eyes wide, and almost looked angry. His face was almost as red as his shorts, it was kind of funny to Patrick. How could anyone not see Eddie, the short twink boy who wore short shorts and pink polo shirts,that he was clearly gay and clearly in love with his best friend.

"I'm back bitches! Uh, what's going on?" Richie asked once he noticed the tension.

Eddie was glaring at Patrick and well, Patrick looked unfazed.

"Are my friends fighting over me? That's so cute!" Richie walked over to Eddie and pinched his cheeks, "Cute, cute, cute!"

Eddie swat away Richie's hands as his best friend began laughing. Patrick shook his head, yeah, he had no chance with Richie, he could see there was something between Richie and Eddie.

"Trashmouth stop it! Fuck!" Eddie yelled when Richie tried to pinch his cheeks again.

Richie was laughing and it got a smile out of Patrick. Richie's laugh was contagious, it made you feel lighter, well maybe not to everyone, but to Patrick that's how hearing Richie's laugh felt to him.




Eddie had left, his mom wanted him home for dinner but Richie had stayed, Eddie was a little disappointed but he left anyway. Richie was laying on Patrick's bed staring at the ceiling and had been rambling on about nonsense. Patrick was trying to listen to it all but some of the things Richie said didn't seem to correlate to what he had been saying before he switched topics.

"You're rambling again", Patrick said in hopes of slowing Richie's words down. It would get to the point where Richie would talk too fast to keep up with.

"Sorry, I know it gets annoying".

"No. it doesn't. I just have a hard time following once you get going. I like hearing you talk, its nice. You are the only person who has ever spoken to me as much as you have, honestly didn't know I liked people talking to me until you did", Patrick said not even thinking about what he was saying.

Richie turned onto his side to look at Patrick who was laying next to him. Patrick was still looking at the ceiling so Richie could only see half of his face, but he could see that Patrick was blushing. Patrick was still only wearing boxers and Richie really had to make an effort to not ogle the boy next to him.

"Most people say its annoying that my mouth runs faster than my brain".

Patrick turned his head to look at Richie and seeing the sweet look in his eyes made Patrick smile. This was nice, just laying together, talking, just being, it was comfortable. Patrick never felt comfortable silence with anyone before. He wondered if this is what a good relationship felt like, just being happy spending time together doing nothing. He could see himself ending up craving this form of intimacy and it scared him. He didn't want to need anything from anyone but he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into the need of another person. Patrick turned onto his side to face Richie.

"I'm not most people. I'm pretty much an outcast, even to the outcasts!"

Richie chuckled and scooted a little closer to Patrick but there was still space between them.

"I like that you're not most people. You're unique. You don't belong in this stupid small town".

"Sweet talkin' me Tozier?" Patrick asked with a grin.

"Is it working?"

Patrick laughed and nodded.

"Then yes", Richie confirmed.

Patrick could totally get behind Richie flirting with him. He would be lying if he said he didn't want it. This time Patrick scooted closer to Richie. Their knees were touching and Patrick was so tempted to grab Richie by the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. He was usually so smooth with guys but Richie threw him off his game.



Richie grabbed Patrick and pulled him close and pressed his lips onto Patrick's. Patrick froze for a second then once his brain caught up, began to kiss back.

Chapter Text

The knife Patrick had taken form Henry was still where he hid it, but as Patrick laid in bed, all he could think about was that damn knife, the knife that had stabbed through his hand. There was something about that knife that almost seemed to call out to him, like it wanted, no, needed, to be used. It was as if the knife itself was bloodthirsty. Now Patrick knew this was ridiculous, an inanimate object couldn't be bloodthirsty, maybe this was him projecting since he hadn't cut himself in a while, that must be it, he needs to scratch the itch that is self harm.

Patrick laid in his bed trying to get those thoughts out of his head, but then thoughts about Richie popped up and he wasn't sure how to handle that. Richie had kissed him the day before. Patrick touched his lips as he remembered, Richie's lips were chapped but still somewhat soft. He liked feeling Richie's tongue in his mouth as well.
Patrick hadn't seen Richie since they kissed and he was anxious to see his neighbor again. The dorky goofball with glasses too large for his face and always wearing some kind of nerdy t-shirt under a Hawaiian button down shirt.

"Paaaaaaatrick", a voice whispered.

Patrick shot up and looked around, no one was there. His parents weren't home so he was completely alone in his house.He had no idea where his parents were, probably out shopping again, they seemed to spend money a lot more lately, like they were trying to fill a void they just couldn't fill.

"Patrick!" the voice boomed.

Patrick covered his ears because the voice was so loud his ears were ringing. His head was throbbing and his nose started to bleed. He removed his hands from his ears and wiped the blood under his nose. He felt confused and a little dizzy but he grabbed a tissue for the nosebleed. Blood soaked through within seconds so he grabbed several more.

"The knife", the voice whispered.

Patrick jumped as the voice, now softer, spoke again. Could that voice be talking about Henry's knife? He looked around and still saw no one and yet he felt like he wasn't alone. He felt like he was being watched, that feeling when your skin crawls and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Patrick shivered at the sensation.

"Take the damn knife and use it. Avery wants you to give him some friends to play with."

Patrick screamed and ran out of his room and down the stairs. He stopped and looked over into the living room and saw Avery's urn on the fireplace mantle. He walked over slowly, stared at the urn, small and silver, the only thing on it was:

Avery Hockstetter

Patrick reached for the urn and touched it with his fingertips but he yanked his hand away from it when the bloodcurdling cries of a baby roared in his ears. He looked around and still he was all alone. His heart was beating fast and the cries only got louder and louder.

Patrick ran out of the house, didn't even bother to close the front door and he ran. He ran until he felt sick, he ran until his throat felt so raw that it might bleed. He wasn't sure where he ended up but he was no where near home. The woods surrounded him, he slowed to a walk, wheezing and gasping for air and that's when the stench of rot hit his nose. The smell was too much and he threw up, twice.

After wiping his mouth he stood back up and covered his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie and followed the horrible smell. The woods cleared and that's when he saw the dump. The dump was filled with trash, cars, appliances, and everything else the town threw out. The fence surrounding the entire dump was broken, probably degenerates sneaking in to do god knows what.

Patrick walked up to the fence and squeezed through a hole that someone had cut in the chain link. Once he got used to the smell it wasn't so bad, he walked around looking at everything, he saw a broken bike missing a wheel, he saw a creepy doll missing an arm, and he saw piles and piles of black bags filled with trash, probably from people's homes.
He walked in deeper, he saw a wall of broken cars and tucked away and hidden among the walls of cars was a tiny little shed. Curious, he walked up to it and opened the door, there was an old dirty mattress inside the shed and nothing else.

He walked away and made his way to an area where appliances were dumped, he saw everything from washers and dryers to freezers and refrigerators. He opened each one but they were empty. Then he saw it, the fridge he had seen in his head, the fridge that came into his mind when he felt the most intense pain he had ever felt.

How could a fridge he had never seen before pop up in his head and now stand right in front of him? It didn't make sense. He knew it was the exact fridge since there was black spray paint on it's white door in the shape of an upside down triangle.
He was terrified, should he open it? What the hell was going on? With a shaky hand he reached for the handle and pulled it open. It was dirty inside, dirt and grime and that's when he saw a skull at the bottom, he squat down and picked up the small skull. He thought it was some animal skull but as he turned it around in his hand he realized it was not an animal skull. The skull he found was human, the size of the skull was smaller than an adult or even a kid, this skull, was from a baby.

Patrick screamed and dropped the skull and shut the fridge door as quick as he could. He jumped back and fell on his ass and stared at the fridge with wide eyes and he felt sick again. Why was there a baby skull inside a fridge in the dump? There weren't any other bones, just the skull. A breeze brought a sound to Patrick's ears, the sound of a baby struggling, almost as if the baby couldn't breathe.
Patrick's eyes widened and pure terror flowed through his body. He stood up and turned around and ran back the way he came, he almost tripped several times in the dump but once he was out he didn't stop running until he was back on his street.

He bent over with hands on his knees trying to breathe.
He walked the rest of the way and saw Richie sitting on his roof. A smile and a wave calmed Patrick down a little and he made his way into his house and was about to head to his room when his parents stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?! You just leave the house and leave the front door wide open?! We could have been robbed!" his mother yelled.

Patrick didn't even realize he left the door open, he just got out of the house as fast as he could. He could feel their anger and probably disappointment as well. They were always disappointed in him, ever since Avery.

"Son, care to explain why you would do such a thing?" his father asked.

Patrick looked at both of their faces, they were both pissed and he knew nothing he could say would help. He could apologize and deal with them acting as if sorry wasn't good enough, he could argue back and claim nothing happened so who cares, or he could lie and deny he did it but he knew his parents wouldn't believe him, even if it were true. So he went for apologizing.

"I'm sorry", Patrick whispered.

"Just go to your room, I can't deal with your shit right now", his mother said angrily.

Patrick rolled his eyes but made his way up the stairs and slammed his door shut. Apparently apologizing was not the way to go this time. His mother was just even more upset about the situation. Neither of them even asked if something was wrong or if he was ok and he knew he looked like shit.

"FUCK!" he yelled.

He punched the wall and a sickening crack rang in his ears followed by pain. His knuckles were red and bruising, he saw that one of his fingers had broken, and he screamed up to the sky. He didn't know what he was screaming, he could barely hear his own screams, almost like he was under water or something.

"Patrick? Are you ok?"

Patrick turned around and he saw Richie sticking his head through the window. Tears began to flow down Patrick's cheeks and he shook his head. Richie climbed into the room and rushed over. He quickly took Patrick's hurt hand into his own and looked at it.

"Damn, you broke your hand, if Eddie was here he would know what to do", Richie muttered to himself mostly.

Patrick yanked his hand away but yelled as the movement caused a lot of pain. Of course Richie would bring up Eddie. Patrick still had no clue what was going on between them and to bring up Eddie the day after they kissed was just so confusing and frustrating. It also didn't help that Eddie clearly had feelings for Richie.

"I don't need Eddie! I don't need anyone!" Patrick yelled.

Richie winced but he took Patrick's other hand and led him to the bed and made Patrick sit. He left through the window but was back within five minutes with an ice pack, some alcohol wipes, and a bottle of Whiskey he stole from his dad's liquor cabinet.
He handed the bottle of Whiskey to Patrick who gratefully took it and took a swig. It burned his throat but it was a welcome burn. Richie cleaned off Patrick's knuckles and then places the ice pack on Patrick's hand.

"Keep that on there for twenty minutes and no longer than that. That hand really can take a beating huh?"

Patrick then realized he broke the same hand that was stabbed. He groaned and took another sip of Whiskey. Of course he broke the hand that was stabbed, it was his dominant hand so it made sense but it sure did suck. His hand wasn't even completely healed from the stab wound and here he was adding even more onto his poor hand.

"What happened?" Richie asked.

"I don't even know. I think I'm going insane. There is something wrong with me", Patrick answered.

He couldn't explain it to Richie, he couldn't lose the one friend he actually had in this shit hole town. He knew everything that happened today sounded crazy, he knew everything made him look bad as well. 

"Who is Avery?" Richie asked. Patrick froze and opened his mouth to speak but closed it again."You yelled the name Avery before I came to check on you", Richie explained.

Patrick had no recollection of yelling his dead brother's name. He never used his dead brother's name. His parents talked about him all the time but not Patrick. He refused to talk about him and he refused to listen when that's all his parents would talk about. He hated hearing anything about Avery. Maybe because of guilt, maybe because he was just an ass but whatever the reason why, he felt apprehensive to tell Richie about it. Hopefully Richie would understand that he wasn't a monster.

"My baby brother", he said softly.

"I didn't know you had a brother".

"That's because I killed him", Patrick said.

Richie stared at him. "The rumors are true?"

"Just that one, but it was an accident. I was babysitting him and hadn't slept in a couple days and I was exhausted but my parents didn't care, they had to go out for their date night. I needed a nap so I laid down in my bed with him next to me, next thing I know I wake up to my mom shaking my asking where Avery is at. I told her next to me and that's when she saw his arm poking out from under me. I had rolled over on him in my sleep and he suffocated."

"Shit, I'm sorry", Richie whispered.

Patrick shrugged. At least Richie didn't react like most people, freaking out and blaming him. So many people were angry when Patrick wasn't charged with murder. Their house had been egged, their garage door had BABY KILLER  spray painted on it, and Patrick even had red paint thrown onto him once while he was out with his parents and that was only the things that happened outside of school.

"Yeah, been hated ever since. That's why we moved. I've been to several different schools and they always hear about me before I get there, same with here somehow", Patrick said.

"I don't hate you. You're not a murderer", Richie said as he wrapped his arm around Patrick.

Patrick sat there and cried. Richie's touch was needed and welcome. Richie began to rub Patrick's back and Patrick rested his head on Richie's shoulder. The two of them sat like that until it was time to take the ice pack off.

"Thank you", Patrick whispered.

Richie looked into Patrick's eyes, he saw sadness and pain, his heart broke at how Patrick seemed so lost. He leaned in and kissed Patrick softly. The kiss was gentle and caring, it made fresh tears spring into Patrick's eyes and as Richie was pulling away, Patrick put his hand on the back of Richie's neck and pulled him back in.

Richie let Patrick pull him back in and he kissed Patrick like he truly cared about him. If Patrick needed to feel cared about then Richie would show him he cared.
Richie slowly pushed Patrick back until his back was on the bed and Richie was on top of him, straddling him. He kissed Patrick sweetly and ran his fingers in Patrick's hair. Patrick hummed contently and put his good hand on Richie's hip, squeezing gently.




Richie had ended up falling asleep in Patrick's bed, they had stayed up late talking, making out, and just enjoying each other's company. The hours had flown by and yet it felt like it had only been a few minutes. They joked around and giggled, they held hands and gave each other lazy kisses.

Now they both laid on their sides, Richie holding Patrick, and Richie snored softly in Patrick's ear. His breath tickled but Patrick didn't mind. He actually felt better minus the pain in his hand. Richie was sweet and just made him feel sane again.
Patrick felt Richie squeeze a little tighter in his sleep and it made him smile. He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless but restful sleep with Richie as the last thing he thought of.

Chapter Text

Patrick sat at the dining table drinking coffee and picking at his food. His mom made pancakes and had put extra butter on his, smothered in maple syrup. It was one of his favorite breakfasts but he didn't feel like eating.His appetite was almost non-existent. He was exhausted even though he had the best sleep he had had in a while, well since moving to Derry.

"Patrick? You're not eating. Is everything ok?" his mother asked.

Patrick looked up to see his mother's worried eyes on him. It was rare when she actually worried about him, he knew he looked like shit, dark bags under his eyes, his hair unwashed and messy, and he was even more pale.

"Not hungry."

Patrick stood up to go back to his room but his mother noticed how bruised his hand was.

"Patrick! What happened to your hand?!" his mother asked as she stood up and ran to her son.

She grabbed his wrist and began to look over his hand, she noticed the scar but ignored it for now, she saw the bruising and there was no doubt in her mind that her son broke his hand.

"Did you get into a fight?" she asked trying to get information out if her son.

Patrick simply shook his head and pulled his hand away. He really didn't want his parents to see his hand but here he was. His father got up from the table and went to grab his coat and the car keys. His mom started shoving him out the door towards the car and Patrick just went along with it. He was too tired to fight it and his hand really did hurt, maybe he could get some good painkillers.

At the hospital the Hockstetter's waited half an hour before they were taken to a room. There was so much white all around and it annoyed Patrick. Everything was sterile clean and smelled weird.
The doctor was a middle aged woman with brown hair tied back and brown eyes that held kindness in them.
The doctor had taken Patrick to get his hand x-rayed and he was asked so many questions that he had a hard time processing. He was forced to take his hoodie off so the doctor saw the scars and burn marks on his arms. He refused to look at her after that.

Once she brought Patrick back to the room his parents were in, she left to get the x-ray. Patrick was silent, he knew this doctor would try to help him and tell his parents about the self-harm.
The doctor was back within ten minutes and she had someone else with her, not a nurse or another doctor, someone in business type clothing. A short black woman in a black pantsuit and shiny red nails. Her hair was tied back in a bun and she smelled faintly of citrus and some kind of flower.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hockstetter, I need to speak to Patrick alone with my associate. If you could please go back to the waiting room, we will come get you when we are done", Dr. Blake, as Patrick realized as he saw her name tag, said.

His parents looked confused and concerned but they got up and left without a word. The door closed and Patrick felt like he was about to be attacked but they both smiled warmly at him.

"Patrick, I'm Linda, a social worker. Dr. Blake brought up her concerns about your physical appearance with me and I'd like to talk to you and ask you some questions if that's alright with you."

"I didn't do anything", Patrick said softly, not looking at either woman.

"Oh no honey you aren't in trouble. We just need to ask how you got so many cigarette burns and cuts on your arms. Also the broken hand with a huge scar on it is a red flag. Do you have any bruises, scars, or burn marks anywhere else?" Linda asked.

Patrick looked at both women and they could see he was scared. He just knew they were going to put him in the loony bin, he knew he would be hidden away forever, no more freedom and drugged up for the rest of his miserable life.

"I'm not crazy."

"Patrick, I know you aren't crazy and whatever has happened is not your fault. Did you parents do all this to you?"

Patrick's eyes widen and he was shocked. He never thought he would be accused of being a victim of child abuse. He knows it all looks bad though and it makes sense that they thought that. Apparently Dr. Blake took his silence as confirmation because she put her hand on his shoulder, only to have Patrick jump away from the contact.

"Do you have someone you could stay with while we conduct our investigation?" Linda asked.

"Uh, my neighbor I guess."

Linda began filling out paperwork, writing things down, and typing things on her computer. Dr. Blake took this time to put up the x-ray of Patrick's hand.

"So your hand is broken, can I ask how it happened?" Dr. Blake asked.

"I punched a wall."

Dr. Blake nodded and whispered something to Linda before leaving the room. It was quiet for a while, only typing and writing could be heard and Patrick just sat there waiting. He wasn't sure what his parents were going to do. Linda had Patrick fill out paperwork about himself while she left the room, most likely to take his parents paperwork.
Dr. Blake returned and began taking care of Patrick's hand, she had a cast put on and put his arm in a sling to keep his hand as still as possible. The cast was uncomfortable and the sling hurt his shoulder but he stayed quiet.
Linda returned after Dr. Blake finished and had given Patrick a bottle of pain killers. At least the pain could he dulled some.

"Alright Patrick, I have spoken to your parents. I will be driving you to your house to get some things, everything you will need, we don't know how long this will take so please get everything you can think of since you can't go back until we are finished and have deemed your home safe", Linda explained.

Everything was blur after that, Linda walked him to her car, they passed his parents in the waiting room and his mother was crying and his father looked angry. He wasn't sure if his father was angry at him or the situation. Probably both.
The drive was quiet, Linda didn't say much and Patrick was fine with that.

They arrived at his house and they walked in and then up the stairs. Linda even followed him into his room which was annoying but she probably had to. He grabbed his backpack for school and set it on his bed. Then he grabbed a duffel bag and filled it with clothing. He managed to sneak his box of contraband into the bag. He grabbed a sketchbook and pens and pencils, his phone charger, and earbuds.
He figured that was enough, after all, his parents didn't abuse him so it shouldn't take too long for them to realize that. Linda took his duffel bag and he grabbed his backpack and they left his room.
They left the house and walked next door. Linda knocked on the door and Mrs. Tozier answered the door.

"Yes?" she asked a bit confused.

Linda made introductions and explained the situation. Patrick stood there awkwardly and wished that this moment would end.

"I don't understand, why did he tell you here?" Mrs. Tozier asked.

That's when everyone heard a loud voice come to the door. It was Richie and he looked worried when he saw Patrick.

"Patrick? What's going on?" Richie asked.

Patrick shuffled his weight onto his other foot and kept looking at the floor. He wanted to disappear. He didn't know anyone else, he had no family nearby, and he really was a loser with no friends other than his neighbor.

"He is welcome to stay here, I didn't realize my son was good friends with him. Please come in", Mrs. Tozier motioned for them to come inside.

"Come on, we can go to my room", Richie whispered.

Richie grabbed the duffel bag from Linda and they quickly went upstairs to let the adults talk. Both boys sat on Richie's bed and Patrick explained everything. He was embarrassed but Richie deserved an explanation.

"Damn dude, I'm sorry."

"Its fine. My parents are pissed though", Patrick said.

A knock at the door interrupted them and Richie stood to open his door. Linda walked in holding a business card and handed it to Patrick. It was white with raised black lettering with Linda's name, email, and phone number, along with her job title.

"In case you need anything you can call me, day or night".

Patrick nodded so Linda left and Richie closed the door again. Patrick stuck the card in his pocket and flung back on Richie's bed, laying on his back. Mrs. Tozier walked in, which earned a glare from Richie for not knocking first.

"Patrick, you are welcome to take a shower if you want, towels are in the linen closet beside the bathroom. I'll be making lunch soon if you're hungry. Richie, show him how the shower works please".

"Thank you Mrs. Tozier", Patrick said softly.

"You can call me Maggie".

Patrick grabbed a change of clothes and Richie walked him to the bathroom and grabbed him a towel. He explained the shower and then looked at Patrick's hand.

"Can that get wet?"

Patrick shook his head so Richie ran out and quickly came back with plastic wrap and duct tape. Patrick grinned and sat while Richie wrapped the cast, lots of plastic used, and a lot giggling from the both of them. Richie had used way more tape than necessary so when he was finished, it looked hilarious but it was definitely waterproof.

"Thanks", Patrick said.

Richie beamed at him and left the bathroom. Patrick turned the shower on, undressed, and got in under the hot water. It felt so nice after feeling gross for hours. He used Richie's shampoo that smelled of apples and it made him smile.





Patrick walked back into Richie's room fully clothed, he wasn't wearing a hoodie since his shirt was long sleeved but you could see his collar bones since the shirt had a swoop neckline, not too big to look girly though.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks", Patrick replied as he sat down beside Richie on the floor with his back touching the bed.

Richie was playing a video game and Patrick just watched and made a few jokes that had Richie cracking up. Patrick couldn't play since one of his hands was out of commission but Richie made sure he felt included. 

"Boys! Lunch is ready!" Maggie yelled from downstairs.

Richie shot up but Patrick stayed sitting. Richie turned back and looked at Patrick. He was about to ask if he was coming when Patrick spoke.

"Go ahead, I'm not hungry."

Richie ran downstairs but was back quickly with two plates in his hand and two cans of Coke being held against his side with his arm. He sat and handed Patrick a plate and a Coke.

"Mom said I had to bring you food. She is a really good cook."

Patrick stared down at the food. It was some chicken dish, a casserole maybe. It smelled good but Patrick really didn't feel like eating. He tried opening the can of Coke but he couldn't do it. Richie took it and opened it for him and handed it back with a smile.

"Thanks. So what is this?" Patrick asked pointing at the food.

"Poppy seed chicken casserole. Its pretty good, has shredded chicken, poppy seeds, cream of chicken soup, and broken Ritz crackers with butter for the topping, try it."

Patrick took his fork and tried the food. It actually was pretty good so he took another bite. Richie put on a tv show, Courage the Cowardly Dog, and they sat quietly eating and watching tv. Once finished Richie took the dishes to the kitchen. Patrick closed his eyes and felt content.

"You sleepy? You can take a nap", Richie said when he got back.

"I'm fine, the painkillers make me feel a little tired but I'll be fine."

Patrick was not fine. Richie sat back down beside him to watch tv and Patrick fell asleep within a few minutes, his head falling on Richie's shoulder. Richie didn't mind, he sat there and let Patrick sleep.

After a while Patrick's head started to slip down so Richie carefully helped Patrick lay down with his head in Richie's lap. Richie ran his fingers through Patrick's soft hair and just watched tv for a few hours.
Maggie had walked in at one point but upon seeing Patrick sleeping and her son putting his finger to his lips and shushing her, she nodded and softly shut the door.





Blood was everywhere. Patrick looked at his hands and his body and he was also drenched in blood. It was warm and thick and he hated how it felt. He looked around trying to find the source but it was so dark he couldn't see much.

He walked around trying to find something, anthing, but he heard howling and growling. He turned around but saw nothing. He began to run, feeling like something was after him.

He heard shrill screams pierce the air and he startled and fell. He looked around and saw several black shapes moving closer to him, surrounding him. 
He felt something pierce his skin on his arm, then he felt it on his other arm, then his neck, he kept feeling pricks everywhere and he began to freak out and scream. He touched where the pain would hit but nothing was there.

He grabbed his hair and yanked, screaming at the top of his lungs. The black shapes had gotten so close they could almost touch him. He realized the black shapes had eyes, red beady eyes that stared him down. He covered his head and started to cry. He felt hands all over him, touching everywhere, smearing the blood on him.





Patrick woke up to being shaken, his eyes opened and he realized he was laying on the floor, his head in Richie's lap. He blushed and sat up.

"You ok? You started screaming in your sleep", Richie said as he looked at Patrick.

Patrick nodded. His dreams kept getting weirder and still were very unsettling.

"I'm fine. Nightmare."




That night as Patrick laid in Richie's bed next to Richie, he thought about dinner earlier. Maggie had made Lasagna and it was good but Patrick didn't eat much. Her husband Wentworth came home just in time for dinner and he must have been informed of their visitor because he didn't act surprised.
Dinner was quiet, Richie made a few jokes and crude comments but other than that, it was a quiet meal. The boys went back upstairs after dinner and watch a movie, Ghostbusters.

Richie turned over facing Patrick who was laying on his back and smiled. Patrick couldn't help but smile back. Richie put his arm around Patrick and cuddled up to him, his face at Patrick's ear. They laid there for quite some time just enjoying each other's company.

"I like the glow in the dark stars", Patrick broke the silence.

Richie chuckled. He had put those stars on his ceiling when he was seven. Eddie had given them to him as a birthday present and Richie actually left his party in the living room to go put the stars up in his bedroom. Eddie complained they would miss cake but Richie assured him they couldn't do cake without the birthday boy.

Eddie helped Richie put them up, he did his best to create constellations, Richie just put them all over the place randomly. Eddie had managed to create one constellation, the little dipper, Ursa Minor, and wanted to make the big dipper, Ursa Major, but Richie didn't leave enough stars left so the rest were just randomly placed.
Richie and Eddie had laid in bed side by side looking at their work. It had been fun and Richie swore he would keep those stars until the day he died. Now almost ten years later he still had them and swore he would take them to college.

"That cluster of stars right there is Ursa Minor. Eddie made it for me. He bought me the stars when I turned seven. He was going to make Ursa Major but I used up too many stars. He was going to have them be me and him, best friends forever." Richie explained and pointed to the constellation.

Patrick smiled. Richie was so lucky to have friends who cared enough to do things like that for him. He felt a twinge of jealousy but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"He really cares about you", Patrick whispered.

He felt Richie stiffen. He knew they were close, apparently they had been friends for a decade at least, of course they were close.

"Yeah, he is the best friend I've ever had other than Stan. You're not so bad yourself though."

That made Patrick laugh. He wondered what it would have been like to be as normal as Richie and his friends were growing up. He wondered if he had grown up in Derry too if they all would have been friends, if Richie would have been his first kiss, maybe even more than friends.

He felt Richie's hand on his cheek, slowly pulled his face over until their noses touched. He felt Richie's lips softly touch his, chapped but still soft, and felt the hand that was on his cheek slide up into his hair. He felt Richie's leg move over on top of him and he felt his hand slide up Richie's thigh.
Richie had deepened the kiss and moaned into Patrick's mouth and Patrick squeezed Richie's thigh, his hand right at the edge of Richie's boxers. He felt Richie grind against his side and that's when his hand slipped under Richie's boxers and slid up to his ass.

Richie was careful with the arm that was under him, Patrick's bad hand on the bed. They both were beginning to get hard, their making out a little sloppy but more heated. Unfortunately the sound of footsteps and the door handle being turned caught their attention and Richie sprung back. They settled next to each other with room in between and pretended to be asleep.
Maggie opened the door and peaked in with Wentworth right next to her.

"Why did Richie have him sleep in his bed? With him?" Wentworth asked.

Maggie shut the door again softly and their whispers could be heard by both boys since the adults stayed at the door.

"He wanted Patrick to feel safe. He isn't sure what happened but he knew if it was him he wouldn't want to be alone", Maggie responded.

Their whispers began to fade and the sound of a door closing let them know that Maggie and Wentworth had gone to bed for the night.

"So you wanted me to feel safe? That's fucking cute", Patrick teased.

Richie blushed but he quickly got on top of Patrick, straddling him, and brought his mouth down to Patrick's for a deep kiss. Patrick moaned and wrapped his arms around Richie and slowly ran his fingertips up and down Richie's back. Richie's hands were in Patrick's hair and he started grinding against Patrick, both their dicks coming back up to attention.
Richie started kissing down Patrick jaw, then down to his neck, lightly nibbling. He felt a jolt of pleasure run through his lower abdomen as his dick touched Patrick's so Richie bit Patrick's neck and sucked. Patrick of course moaned and didn't think about having a hickey in the morning, all he was thinking about was the heat pooling deep down and starting to boil.

"If you keep this up I'm gonna-"

Richie's breath hitched and his body tensed up, Patrick knew what that meant, and his body also found it incredibly hot so he followed shortly after. Both boys panting, Richie still on top of Patrick, his face nestled into Patrick's neck.

"I fucking jizzed my pants, now I feel gross", Patrick said making Richie laugh.

They both got up and cleaned up, put on new boxers and laid back down.

"Sorry, uh it was kinda hot almost getting caught making out", Richie said sheepishly.

Patrick looked at him and smiled. "Of course you're a little freak".

Richie turned on his side, Patrick did the same and held Richie, he loved spooning him, it felt so right. He squeezed a little and kissed Richie's neck.

"Goodnight Richie."

"Goodnight Patrick." 

Chapter Text

Maggie Tozier cheerfully woke up Richie and Patrick, not saying a word about the fact Patrick was spooning her son. Richie groaned and Patrick turned over and pulled the sheet over his head.

"Time for breakfast, we need to go shopping later. Since we don't know how long Patrick will be here I want to get him a few things", Maggie explained.

Richie finally sat up and put his glasses on. He shook Patrick but got the middle finger in response. Maggie left to let the boys get ready and as soon as she shut the door behind her, Richie pulled the sheet off Patrick.

"Dude! My mom totally saw you cuddling me!"

Patrick glared at Richie but sat up.

"Sorry, I'll be more careful."

"Speaking of being more careful, might want to wear something to hide that hickey", Richie said as he hopped off the bed to grab some clothes.



Downstairs Wentworth was sipping coffee at the table, he added just a little bit of Bailey's creamer since he had the day off work.. Maggie was putting the food on the table as Richie and Patrick raced down the stairs and sat down. Patrick grabbed a mug and took it to the coffee pot to get himself the only thing he really wanted for breakfast. He noticed the Bailey's creamer on the counter and looked over to see if anyone was watching, then he poured some in his coffee.

Richie was chowing down on french toast and pouring way too much syrup on it, Maggie scolding him for using so much, and Wentworth chuckled as he sneaked the syrup away and poured more on his plate. They were a normal happy family and Patrick wished he could have grown up into a family like the Toziers.
Patrick sat down and sipped his coffee, the Bailey's not only adding flavor, but just that little bit of alcohol he needed to get through the day.

"Do you not like french toast? I can make you something else", Maggie said sweetly.

"Oh no, coffee has always been my breakfast, but thank you."

Richie held a piece of french toast at Patrick on his fork, trying desperately to get his friend to try it. Richie was laughing and Patrick was having to try extremely hard to not give in and smile.

"Come on man, my mom makes the best french toast, you gotta try a bite at least!"

Patrick continued to shake his head, but when Richie looked at him with that sad, hurt puppy look he finally gave in. It was delicious and he gave a thumbs up which thankfully satisfied Richie and he had a big smile on his face. Neither parent commented on the fact Richie fed Patrick food, honestly they were used to Richie's antics even though they were usually with Eddie.




Maggie took Patrick and Richie to Bangor to do their shopping at the mall. Richie wanted to ditch his mom but Maggie told him after they got what they needed, he and Patrick could go off together for two hours while she ran some errands. They quickly got things Patrick would need, toothbrush, soap, shampoo, and a few other things including him picking out some drinks and snacks he liked.

Once they had gathered everything Maggie thought Patrick might need for his stay, she gave Richie some money and let them go off on their own. Of course Richie made them get pretzels, he loved the cinnamon sugar pretzels at Auntie Anne's and Patrick had never had one before so Richie made it his mission to have Patrick try his favorite snack from the mall.

"Fuck, I can finally unzip my hoodie. I should buy some concealer to cover this damn thing", Patrick huffed.

"You weren't complaining last night!"

Patrick shushed him and lightly shoved Richie. Now that Maggie wasn't around, Patrick felt like he could be more himself, and that included flirting with Richie. Richie grinned as his cheeks began to tint pink. Patrick thought it was adorable.

A group of teenagers came up behind them to wait in line, one of the girls in the group was looking at Richie and giggling. She kept whispering to her friend who also giggled. Richie was clueless, he didn't notice the pretty blonde trying so hard to be seen without looking like she was trying.
The girl was the poster child for a preppy kid. Flawless pale skin, perfectly straightened blonde hair, and a dazzling smile with perfectly straight and white teeth. She wore short jean shorts and a tight light pink tee with a crown on it. Her nails were perfectly manicured and she wore pink sparkly shoes.

Richie continued to run his mouth about something, Patrick wasn't paying attention, he was more watching to see what little miss perfect would do. After a minute of giggles and whispers, the blonde tapped Richie's shoulder which made him instantly shut up. He turned around and smiled.

"Hi! I'm Amber", little miss sunshine introduced her.

"I'm Richie and this is Patrick", Richie said and it honestly made Patrick happy that Richie included him in the introduction.

"Well I was just wondering if you wanted to walk around the mall with me?"


Amber's eyes widened and her group of friends were trying not to laugh. Patrick on the other hand laughed so hard he snorted. Richie looked at him confused but back over to Amber who was now blushing furiously.

"Forget it", Amber said as she turned around and huffed away, her friends following close behind her.

"What the fuck?" Richie asked bewildered.

"Dude, she was flirting with you and basically asking you on a mall date, walk around, talk, hang out, make out in a dressing room", Patrick explained.

"But why would she ask me?"

"Because you're fucking cute as hell! Duh!"




It was their turn to order pretzels, they got two cinnamon sugar pretzels with two containers of icing to dip them in. They sat on a bench eating their sugary snack. Patrick loved it and had to agree that it was the best.

"I can't believe you basically told Amber to fuck off", Patrick said chuckling. He made sure to say "Amber" in a high pitched voice.

"I didn't know! No one has ever asked me out before", Richie defended.

That made Patrick stop laughing. No one had ever asked out Richie? He was cute, funny, and hot. How could anyone not want him? Derry people must be idiots.

"Hey Richie, want to go out with me sometime?"

Richie froze and slowly turned his head to look at Patrick. It would have been comical if Patrick didn't feel like his heart was beating hard enough to burst through his chest. He suddenly felt like he had overstepped, sure they were grinding against each other until they both came last night but that didn't mean Richie wanted anything more.

"Are you making fun of me?" Richie asked with fear in his eyes.

Patrick instantly brought his hand up to cup Richie's cheek and looked him dead in the eyes.

"No, I'm serious. Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Richie pushed forward and his lips were on Patrick's. Patrick took that as a yes and kissed Richie back, he brought his other hand to cup Richie's other cheek and continued to sweetly kiss Richie. Pretzels forgotten in their laps and cinnamon sugar still on their fingers, but neither of them cared. They both pulled away at the same time, smiling like idiots, and blushing.



Richie and Patrick went to their favorite clothing stores and began to have some fun, they tried on several outfits, they took photos of each other, even competed to create the most ridiculous outfit. Of course Richie won that, after all his fashion taste is questionable at best.

They ended up making out in the dressing room, trying to be quiet but giggles were giving them away. Patrick's hands were wandering under Richie's shirt and lightly touching, it was driving Richie nuts. Patrick kept Richie pinned to the wall which was pretty hot in Richie's opinion.
Once a whimper escaped Richie's lips, Patrick stuck his hand down Richie's pants and began to rub his dick. Richie felt like his skin was on fire, every single inch of his body was a live wire and he tried grinding into Patrick's hand.

"Fuck, you're so hot, do you know that?" Patrick whispered against Richie's lips.

Richie whined and put his face on Patrick's neck to partly hide his face and partly to try to muffle any sounds he made. He pulled Patrick's hair which caused him to groan lowly.
Patrick continued rubbing Richie's dick, breathing heavily, and he could feel Richie was getting close.

"Come on baby, come for me", Patrick whispered.

That did it for Richie, he covered his mouth with his hand and moaned as he came. His legs wobbled and he held onto Patrick tightly, worried his legs would give out if not. Patrick pulled his hand out of Richie's pants and thankfully most of Richie's come ended up in Patrick's hand.
Patrick began to lick the come off his hand and Richie's brain shut down for a moment. He shook his head to bring him back to reality and he cleared his throat.

"Want me to return the favor?" his voice cracked as he asked.

Patrick chuckled and shook his head.

"I uh, well, you know..."

"You creamed your pants?!"

"Shh! You want the whole store to hear?! Yeah I did, shut up, you sounded fuckin' hot", Patrick said defensively.

That shit eating grin on Richie's face would have been annoying if Richie wasn't so damn cute. They left the dressing room and after a stop to the bathroom they went to the food court.

"What do you want? They have Subway, Chick-fil-a, Panda Express, some Italian place, and a taco place", Richie listed.

"Fuck Chick-fil-a, they are anti-gay and give millions of dollars to places that harm those of us in the LGBT community. Even a boys home that does conversion therapy!"

"What?! Well fuck that, I'll never eat there again!" Richie yelled.

They ended up getting tacos, Richie ended up eating six tacos where Patrick only ate two. Richie worried Patrick wasn't eating enough but he knew with all that he was going through, not having much of an appetite was understandable.



It was almost time for Maggie to pick up the boys, they had really enjoyed their time at the mall, it almost felt like a date. They actually saw gay couples at the mall and it honestly made Richie happy to see that there were places where it was safe to be yourself.
Patrick was used to it, after all, he was from New York, he even held Richie's hand while walking around for a bit. They had gone to a toy store and wreaked havoc, the parents with children didn't even pull their children away from the gay kids like Richie always saw back in Derry. They were kicked out, but only because Richie accidentally broke one of the toy cars.

"So boys, did you have fun?"

Both of them nodded as they followed Maggie to the car and were grinning at each other. Richie sat up front with his mom, he would look back at Patrick every now and then and would blush every time he saw Patrick already looking at him. Richie honestly didn't think anything could take away his happiness. If only he wasn't so naive...




Where was he? Patrick was in the car and then suddenly he was sitting in darkness. He looked around trying to figure out what happened. He saw trails of blood and felt a stabbing pain in his head. He grabbed his head trying to make the nauseating pain go away.

Finally the pain was gone but so was the darkness. Now he was in front of that refrigerator. Patrick felt like he couldn't breathe, he clawed at his neck but he just felt his throat get tighter and tighter. The fridge began to slowly open up, the stench of rotting flesh making him gag, it was dark inside the fridge and at first he saw nothing.

Then a large set of eyes appeared in the fridge, he heard wailing and screams. He heard laughing, a sick twisted laugh that made his skin crawl. He screamed and shut his eyes, trying to make it all go away.



Patrick opened his eyes to Richie right in his face, his hands on Patrick's and felt a trickle of liquid flow down his neck. He blinked and shook his head, Maggie was staring at him from the front seat, apparently she had pulled over.

Patrick looked around and everything seemed normal again. He felt Richie pull his hands away from his neck, he looked at his nails and saw blood. He looked at Richie and yanked one of his hands away to touch his neck, blood was on his fingers and he realized he had clawed himself down his own neck, hard enough to draw blood. He felt a trickle of liquid fall from his nose and he put his hand under his nose and there was blood, so not only had he clawed himself, he had a nosebleed and was his ears bleeding?! He touched his ears next and when pulling his hands away he found that his ears were bleeding.

Patrick never got queasy with blood, in fact he thought blood was cool, he liked the smell for some reason, it always smelled like metal to him. Right now however, the smell and the sight of blood was making his stomach turn.

"Patrick! Can you hear me?! You're safe! Look at me! Patrick! Look at me!"

Patrick looked into Richie's eyes, Richie had gotten in the back with him and Maggie still hadn't said anything. Patrick bent down, his head in his hands on Richie's lap. Then he realized he was crying, when did he start crying? Had he been crying the whole time?

"Go ahead and drive mom, I'll stay back here with him".




Getting back to the Tozier house was going to be hard enough, but of course Patrick's parents were outside when Maggie pulled up and they came yelling, Patrick couldn't even understand what was being yelled but he knew his parents were angry at him. Maggie tried to get them to leave and Richie got Patrick inside the house.

Patrick made his way to Richie's bed, took his shoes and hoodie off and he got under the covers and laid in the fetal position facing the wall. He shook as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He felt bad that he was probably getting blood on Richie's sheets but he pushed that thought away.

Richie had come in his room, sat on his bed and rubbed Patrick's back through the sheet. Patrick wanted to feel comfort in that gesture but he just couldn't. He felt crazy, he felt like something was wrong with him. He couldn't have been at the fridge, he was in the car. He wanted to sleep so he asked for the pain medication the doctor gave him and Richie gave him the bottle.
Patrick took three of the pills, hoping that would knock him out, he just wanted to sleep. He didn't want to think, he just needed to be unconscious for a while. He knew he shouldn't have taken three pills but he would deal with that later, he started feeling heavy and his mind was getting foggy. He let himself drift into that heavy fog to a dreamless yet restless drugged up sleep.




Patrick awoke to Richie and Eddie playing video games, they weren't too loud surprisingly, Richie was usually yelling at this point. Patrick turned over and watched as Eddie kicked Richie's ass at Mario Kart. Once Eddie had claimed victory, both him and Richie saw that Patrick was finally awake.

"Hey dude, you sure slept for a long time, feel better?" Richie asked.

Patrick shrugged and grabbed the glass of water Richie had left for him on the bedside table. It was quickly gone and at least the intense thirst Patrick was feeling was finally gone. Eddie grabbed his backpack and got on the bed next to Patrick. He pulled out his first aid kit and a lot of other supplies he thought he might need.

"So Rich said you had like a seizure or something?" Eddie asked as he prepared everything. He put on latex gloves and grabbed a tiny flashlight.

"No, I don't know what happened but it wasn't a seizure. I was somewhere else, and when I was back in the van, Richie was in my face and trying to get my attention and grabbing my hands to stop me from doing this", he pointed to the claw marks on his neck, "and then I noticed my nose and my ears were bleeding. Its never happened to me before."

Eddie nodded as he put his flashlight in his mouth to hold. He grabbed an alcohol wipe and wiped off all the dried blood from his neck, nose, and ears. It stung a little on his neck but he powered through it. Next Eddie put some antibacterial cream on the cuts on his neck and then used the flashlight to look into Patrick's ears. He snapped his fingers next to each ear and seemed satisfied when Patrick moved away from the sound.

"Well your eardrums aren't blown so I don't know why your ears were bleeding, there's no swelling either. Why were you clawing your neck?" Eddie asked.

Eddie sounded almost like a medical professional, if he didn't end up a doctor or a nurse, it would be such a waste. But hospitals were dirty and complete cesspools of germs and disease, plus Eddie hated being in the hospital since his mom took him there too many times for no reason.

"I didn't know I was doing it. My throat was closing up and I couldn't breathe and it freaked me out. I guess I was trying to make it stop so I could breathe again", Patrick explained.

Eddie looked at Patrick, studying him, he didn't even mention all the scars and burns on his arms, that was none of his business. He also made a point to ignore the hickey on Patrick's neck, he did not want to think about who gave it to him.

"Do you get panic attacks? Have PTSD?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, yeah and I don't think so about PTSD."

"Have you had a traumatic experience recently?" Eddie probed.

"Yeah, but I know that doesn't have anything to do with this. I was literally in like a different world, somewhere I have only been to when I sleep but I wasn't sleeping."

Richie looked at Eddie in hopes that Eddie would know exactly what was going on and then fix the problem like he had many times with Richie in the past. Eddie always knew what to do and always patched him up.

"Hmm, do you have issues with waking dreams? Sleep paralysis? Sleep walking?" Eddie asked.

Patrick shook his head no and exhaled loudly. He knew he was fucked up, he was going insane, that could only be the logical answer. He knew what he was saying sounded crazy and he really didn't want Richie to see him as a nutcase.

"I honestly don't know, your next step should be seeing a doctor."

Patrick and Richie both groaned and Eddie looked sympathetic. He felt bad he couldn't help but he knew this was way beyond his paygrade.

"Thanks anyway Eddie, I appreciate it", Patrick said with a smile.

Eddie returned the smile and then began gathering his things to head home. He hugged Richie and waved at Patrick before leaving Richie's room and it was just the two of them again.

"You're not crazy", Richie muttered.

Patrick made a surprised noise, that would have been funny if under different circumstances, and looked at Richie.

"You heard me. You aren't fucking crazy".

"Well I sure as hell feel like I'm going crazy!" Patrick said loudly.

Patrick laid back down and rolled over to face the wall. He brought the sheet over his face and tried to go back to sleep so he could ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his head. He didn't want Richie to see him this way so maybe he could sleep it off and feel better tomorrow.
What Patrick didn't expect was to feel Richie lean over to kiss the side of his head before heading downstairs to grab some dinner, he could smell that dinner was almost ready. He shut the light off and closed the door, hoping that Patrick would feel better.

Patrick laid in the darkness refusing to cry. What was wrong with him? Why was he seeing things? Why was he hearing things? And the question that scared him the most was, why were thoughts of him stabbing people intruding into his mind?

Chapter Text

The knife in Patrick's hand was dripping with warm blood. He couldn't remember how he got to this point, all he knew was there was blood splatters all over his face and chest. His hand trembled as it slowly sunk in that he had killed something. He was afraid to look down, he didn't want to know what he had done but at the same time he had to know.

He screamed as he saw Richie laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his eyes were glazed over, his body was not moving. There were multiple stab wounds covering Richie's body, each one still oozing out that red sticky liquid. The smell of metal clung to the air, it made Patrick nauseous. He felt his body getting ready to vomit but managed to keep it down.





Patrick shot up breathing heavily, shaking and sweating, he looked around and saw Richie peacefully asleep next to him. It was all a dream, just a sick dream. He got up and went into the bathroom, turned the shower on, and stripped. Once the water was warm enough he got in and sat in the tub with the water running down his body.

He couldn't believe he had dreamed about killing Richie. How could he even dream about something that horrible? He cared about Richie, he didn't want to hurt him. Tears ran down his cheeks and his sobs began to make his body shake.
He stayed in the shower for quite a while, just crying and feeling like his mind was slowly breaking.

"Patrick?" a soft voice drifted to Patrick's ears.

Patrick looked up and he saw a shadow behind the shower curtain, he knew the voice, it was Richie, probably wondering where he had gone.

"Yeah?" Patrick sniffled.

Richie opened the curtain a little and frowned as he saw the state Patrick was in. He got in the shower and sat down in front of Patrick, still with clothing on and getting soaked.

"What's wrong?"

"I had a nightmare", Patrick whispered.

Richie looked at him with kind caring eyes and he grabbed Patrick's hand with his and held it. A simple gesture but immensely comforting, Patrick was grateful.

"It was about you", Patrick confessed.

Richie tilted his head to the side and waited for Patrick to continue.

"I killed you, I stabbed you with the fucking knife I stole form Henry, over and over again. Your blood was all over me!" Patrick cried.

Richie wrapped his arms around Patrick and pulled him to his chest. He held the crying boy until there were no more tears.

"Its ok, I'm ok. I'm alive, you didn't hurt me. It was just a nightmare, it doesn't mean anything", Richie comforted.





Patrick had been at the Tozier's for two weeks before the social worker came to check on how he was doing. She apologized for taking so long, her work load was much more than she could handle and yet she still continued on.

"So Patrick, how are the Toziers treating you?" Linda asked.

"They are very nice", Patrick replied.

Linda wrote down in her notepad his answer and read through her notes.

"Alright that's great! Now I'm spoken to your parents, they are quite upset at this whole situation and adamantly claim they have not harmed you. I need you to explain to me exactly how you got all those scars, burn marks, and a broken hand."

Patrick shifted in his seat and looked around the room, he was in the guest room sitting on the bed while Linda sat in the desk chair. He really didn't want to go into any details, he knew he couldn't lie and destroy his parent's lives. He also knew he couldn't tell the truth either.

"Uh, the broken hand was from me punching my bedroom wall", he allowed one truth to pass his lips.

Linda wrote in her notepad and then looked back up at Patrick waiting for the rest. Her gaze made him uncomfortable, he wanted this all to be over already. He was so tired and he just wanted to go back to sleep.

"It's nothing, my parents didn't do these to me."

"Patrick, if you can't give me an explanation then it's not going to look good for your parents. Whatever the answer is I promise we can figure it out. Please trust me, I want to help you."

Patrick was done, he was not in the mood to continue, he was not going to send himself to the loony bin by admitting his self harm. So he stood up and walked out of the room and back into Richie's room. He locked the door behind him and laid down on Richie's bed facing the wall.





School had gotten even more dull to Patrick. He started staying near Richie which thankfully his friends were fine with. Bowers constantly picked on him when he managed to corner him alone. He never tried to attack Patrick physically again, he only attacked with his words, but Patrick did his best to ignore him. Victor and Belch stayed behind Henry, they were afraid of Patrick more than they were afraid of Henry.
Teachers still tried to get Patrick to engage with the class but none of them could get a word out of Patrick. His grades weren't terrible so there wasn't anything they really could do anyway.


During his math class Patrick got a hall pass to use the restroom and walking down the silent halls was almost creepy but at least no one would be there to bother him. He opened the bathroom window just a little and then lit a cigarette. He began smoking during school more and more, the nicotine becoming more and more needed throughout the day.

The restroom door opened and for a second Patrick was worried that he had finally been caught by a teacher but then he relaxed as he saw it was only Victor Criss. He wasn't afraid of Victor, especially when he was not around Bowers. He was kind of a wimp to be honest.

"Oh sorry", Victor mumbled.

Patrick gestured to go about his business so Victor went into a stall. Once he was finished and washed his hands, Victor looked at Patrick, he was shorter than Patrick, not by too much but still he was shorter.

"Uh, sorry about Henry, he really isn't that bad of a guy. He acts all tough but he's honestly just a scared guy. His dad is the sheriff and he... well he beats on Henry and I think he just lashes out at everyone else."

Patrick glanced at Victor and gave a dry laugh. He didn't care about Henry's sob story, he didn't give a shit about the guy.

"Why the fuck are you telling me this?" Patrick asked.

"I just don't want any hard feelings between us, I have nothing against you", Victor explained.

Patrick chuckled and pulled his sleeve up exposing his arm full of cigarette burn marks. He took the finished cigarette and put it out on his arm and then tossed it in the trash. Victor stared in awe and disgust. The smell hit his nose and his stomach lurched.
Victor left Patrick alone once again. Time to take his painkillers anyway so he took two pills with some water from the sink and headed back to class.





Richie was growing more and more worried about Patrick as time went by. Two more weeks had passed and his friend was looking more and more sickly. Dark bags under his eyes and a sleep deprived look on his face was his new normal in appearance.
He didn't eat very much and he stayed in Richie's bed most of the time he was there. Richie tried to cheer him up but in the end he would just end up laying next to Patrick holding him. He hadn't been able to hang out with his friends for a while because he didn't want to leave Patrick alone.
He was so sure Patrick was depressed, he wanted to tell his parents but he felt like it wasn't his place. He kept trying to be there for Patrick but he felt like he was slowly drifting away from him.


The night Patrick stayed out was a scary night for Richie. He had no idea where Patrick was, he didn't know if he was hurt, dead, or what and he paced in his room all night. He couldn't tell his parents because then they might abandon Patrick. He couldn't tell his friends because they already seemed to disapprove of how close he was to Patrick. If only they knew how close they really were.Patrick finally walked into Richie's room at six in the morning, shitfaced. He was staggering and slurring his words.

"Sorry, didn't mean to be out so late", Patrick slurred.

Richie ran up to him and helped him to the bed. Patrick giggled and tried taking his shoes off but almost fell over so Richie got Patrick's shoes off and then had him lay down.
Patrick being drunk, pulled Richie down with him. Richie tried to get up but Patrick held tight.

"You are so cute, you know that?" Patrick said.

Richie shook his head and sighed.

"I was fucking worried about you! Where the fuck were you?"

Patrick seemed confused by Richie's anger but started laughing a second later.

"I was hanging out with Victor, we had some drinks and I don't remember what else", Patrick laughed.

Richie knew Victor was probably the least worst of Bower's gang but that didn't mean Patrick should be hanging around him. It could have been a trap!

"You gotta be careful with anyone who is friends with Bowers", Richie reprimanded.

Patrick just shook his head and finally let go of Richie so he could roll over and pass out. Richie laid there, he hadn't gotten any sleep so he might as well sleep too.





A month later and Patrick was allowed to go back home. His parents were cleared and his home deemed safe to be in. He never told Linda about his scars and maybe she figured it out but he was able to go back home and his parents were able to annoy him again.

He laid in his bed, smoking a joint, not even bothering to take it outside anymore, he listened to music and ignored his parents any time they tried to talk to him.
 Patrick was slowly sinking into a pit he could not get himself out of. He didn't want to be around anyone except for Richie, and Patrick still pushed him away at times.

"Hey, what's up?" Richie's voice broke through the haze.

Patrick looked over at his window to see Richie climbing through. Richie was still the cutest guy Patrick had ever seen, he smiled as Richie made his way over to Patrick's bed.
Richie wore a loud Hawaiian shirt of course, bright reds and yellows, with an Overwatch  t-shirt underneath. He laid down beside Patrick and took the joint to take a drag of it.

"Not much, parents have been trying to talk to me but I keep ignoring them", Patrick replied.

Richie nodded and handed the joint back to Patrick.

"Ya know, you still owe me a date", Richie said playfully.

"Yeah, shit I'm sorry. I know I've been distant. Things are just..." Patrick trailed off.

Richie nodded. He understood, he really did but he really wanted things with Patrick to progress. He had been putting so much time and energy into Patrick, he wasn't going to give up now.

"I get it, but I miss you. Ever since you had that nightmare you have been so closed off."

Patrick felt a pang of guilt at that. It was true he was pushing Richie away after that horrible dream. He was scared of what he might do, he was scared of possibly hurting Richie. Richie was the one person he never wanted to hurt and if he did, well he could never forgive himself.

"I'm scared", Patrick whispered.

Richie wrapped his arm around Patrick and hugged him. They laid there quietly for a few minutes, hearing the soft steady breathing from each other. Soon they began to drift off to sleep, Patrick knew he shouldn't let sleep overtake him but Richie felt so safe and comforting and he was just so damn tired, a few minutes couldn't hurt.





Patrick jumped up nearly knocking Richie off his bed. His heart raced as he realized his mother was standing at the foot of his bed and she did not look happy. Richie looked terrified and unsure of whether to leave or stay frozen in place.

"Mom I-"

"Just shut up! I don't care about your little friend right now! What happened to Avery's urn?! Did you break it?"

Patrick looked confused, he hadn't been near that urn for weeks. He never touched it and he honestly hated looking at it.

"What? No, why would I?"

"Because I didn't break it, your father is at work, and you are the only one left in this house!" his mother yelled.

Patrick stood up and discreetly motioned for Richie to leave as he guided his mother to where the urn was supposed to be.


When they got downstairs Patrick found Avery's urn shattered on the floor, ash everywhere, and Patrick's mother began to cry. Patrick looked around, the door was closed, no windows were open, so no one could have gotten in to just break an urn.

"I'll get the broom", Patrick said softly as his mother sat on the couch, still crying with her face in her hands.

First Patrick picked up the pieces of the urn and set them in a box. Once that was done he began to carefully sweep up the ash and put it in a plastic container with a lid. His mother had stopped crying but she looked so heartbroken that it made Patrick feel bad a little.

"I just don't understand what happened", his mother sniffled.

Patrick rubbed the back of his neck and sat down next to his mother on the couch. She looked so frail and small, he almost wanted to hug her but quickly shook that thought out of his head.

"I don't know either but it will be ok, you can buy a new urn and things will be ok again."

Patrick's mother looked at her son, they didn't get along really but Patrick had his moments of being sweet, like when he was a child. She gave a weak smile and nodded.

"Don't let your father find out about that boy, he won't like it", she whispered.

Patrick startled at his mother's words but nodded. She didn't seem set on telling her husband so that was a relief. Even though they came from the city, his parents weren't open minded, they weren't as bad as the small town people here, but they were close.

"Thank you", his mother said as she got up to get started on making dinner.




The smell of sewer water was thick in the air, the darkness felt like a vice grip. A lighter and a mini can of hairspray was his only source of light, he had to use it sparingly, he had no clue how long he would be here. He looked around the dark sewer, listening and waiting, he had been chasing someone, but who? He heard giggles and splashing and he ran to follow the sounds. Red balloons began to appear, more and more until he could barely walk. He heard little bells jingle and the laughter growing louder.

Then all of the balloons began to pop, deafeningly loud, sounding like gunshots in such a small space. Once the last balloon had popped, Patrick sprayed the hairspray on the flame from his lighter and he saw bodies, bodies of children, mangled, decaying, broken, and that's when he saw the newest addition to the pile. It was Richie, blood soaking his clothes, stab wounds everywhere, his throat slit, and the everlasting look of fear in his eyes as he faded away.

Patrick laughed at his finding. He started to poke Richie's body, smearing the blood around, even licked some off his finger. He grinned at the metal taste in his mouth held his lighter up to Richie's small terrified dead face. He could set the whole pile of bodies on fire! He could do whatever he wanted! He began to spray Richie's body with hairspray and then used his lighter. Flames instantly flowed where the hairspray had been, then began burning clothes.

The smell of burning flesh and hair should have made him feel sick but instead it made him feel hungry, hungry for more. He wanted more fire, he wanted more blood! He laughed manically and he thought he saw someone else in there with him. He looked around but no one was there so he continued to watch the flames as they expanded over the pile of bodies.




Patrick spun around to look where the voice had come from but still no one was there.


"Burn them all. Kill them all. Make them suffer. Every single loser. Especially Richie. Make him suffer the most. Feel his pain and eat it for breakfast!"


Patrick laughed louder and he began to hold his lighter under his other hand, burning his hand above the flame and giggling like a madman at how it only tickled. The burning skin starting to bubble made him feel an intense wave of pleasure course through his body. He felt his pants grow tighter so he undid he jeans and took his dick out. He began to stroke himself with his burned hand, the slight oozing making it slick enough to pump his erection.

He was pumping faster and faster and he could feel his orgasm coming, just a little bit more, he needed just a little more, he took his lighter and flicked it on and then shoved the heated end with the flame into the skin on his lower abdomen and he came with a painful howl.




Patrick groaned as he sat up in bed, he felt sticky in his underwear and he put his hand to his head. He felt an intense pain behind his eye and it took him a moment to remember the fucked up dream he had. Once he regained the entire memory of the dream he leaned over his bed and hurled. His stomach was pretty empty so his body heaving to try to empty his stomach was very painful. He felt disgusted with himself, how could he have a dream like that and... and come from it?

He ran into the bathroom and jumped into the shower and cried. The hot water made his skin pink and he didn't care that it was too warm, he just pounded the tile wall and screamed. What kind of monster was he? What was he becoming? That dream had felt so real and he wasn't even scared or disgusted in his dreams anymore, that's what scared him the most. He was enjoying himself in his dreams and he knew he shouldn't.

Chapter Text

Patrick needed to feel normal, he needed to feel something, anything. He wanted to feel good, he wanted to forget all the stuff that was weighing him down.
Richie had come over and they were listening to music, Patrick's parents had gone out for a date night so they had the house to themselves. He kept staring at Richie, taking in every beautiful little detail. Both boys sat on the bed, relaxing but Patrick had another idea in mind.

Patrick slowly inched his way to Richie, crawled on top of him, and brought his face to Richie's, their noses almost touching. He closed the gap between their lips and began to kiss Richie passionately. Soft wet lips, a little tongue here and there, hands roaming, it was pure bliss. Richie broke the kiss to make his way to Patrick's neck, leaving soft kisses down the path.

Richie's chapped lips sucked a mark on Patrick's neck causing him to squirm underneath Richie. This little game they played together, trying to make the other squirm the most, was fun. The little noises that came from Richie would go straight to Patrick's dick.
Patrick's moans would make Richie buck his hips and chase the friction between their legs.

"Fuuuuuck", Patrick groaned.

He could feel Richie smirk against his skin and he couldn't have Richie getting cocky on him now could he? Patrick grabbed onto Richie's hips and in a fluid motion, flipped them over to where Patrick was now on top of Richie. The yelp that came from Richie as his back hit the bed was incredibly hot.

"Patrick", Richie whined.

Patrick got to work grinding against Richie and began to kiss him like his life depended on it. The muffled moans encouraged him to absolutely wreck Richie. He wanted to make Richie see stars, he wanted Richie to be unable to walk for a few days. He wanted Richie to be covered in hickies so everyone knew he belonged to Patrick.
Patrick squeezed Richie's hips and held them down on the bed, he began to sweetly kiss Richie's face, then slowly down his neck until he found the perfect spot and he bit down, hard.
Richie's eyes flew open and he moaned so obscenely that Patrick had to stop himself from blowing his load right then and there.

"Holy shit that was fucking hot", Patrick managed to get out.

Richie grinned up at Patrick, looking blissed out.

"You nearly made me cream my pants", Richie said.

Patrick laughed and began to suck and bite more marks onto Richie's neck. The boy squirming under him was so delicious and he wanted to do more. He quickly took Richie's shirts off and then began to mouth at his chest, paying very much attention to Richie's nipples.


Richie bit his bottom lip trying to stay somewhat quiet but Patrick was hitting some good spots. He felt Patrick's teeth lightly bite down on his nipple and he bucked his hips up.

"You're killing me", Richie mumbled.

Patrick smirked and did the same thing to Richie's other nipple. He loved seeing Richie fall apart. He loved to see Richie's eyes half lidded and a grin on his lips. He was gorgeous, he was absolutely gorgeous and yet he didn't even know. Sure he had some crooked teeth and giant glasses, but he was still attractive.

"You're so pretty like this, makes me want to tie you up and do whatever I want to you", Patrick said.

Richie shivered and moaned loudly but he blushed once he saw the look on Patrick's face.

"You'd like that?"

Richie looked away but nodded. Patrick grabbed a couple of ties in his bedside table drawer and began to tie them to Richie's wrists and then tied the other sides to his bed frame. Once Richie's hands were tied up and above his head, Patrick began to undo Richie's jeans.


Patrick froze and looked at Richie.

"Do I need to stop?"

Richie shook his head no.

"I uh, want to see more of you."

So who was Patrick to deny Richie? He got off the bed and stripped down to just his boxers and then got back on the bed to take Richie's jeans off. Once Richie was only left with his boxers, Patrick straddled Richie and looked down at him with a devious smile.

"Oh baby the things I'm gonna do to you", Patrick purred.

Richie shivered and felt a small wet patch on his boxers, he was already leaking precome, he squirmed and tried rubbing his thighs together as best as he could with someone on top of him. He needed some sort of friction for his aching cock.

"Someone already getting wet for me?"

Richie nodded and looked up at Patrick through his eyelashes. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, Richie was absolutely beautiful. Patrick lightly ran the tips of his fingers down Richie's chest, it slightly tickled but it felt amazing.

"Patrick, please", Richie whined.

Richie was seriously going to make all this end too quickly if he kept up begging, a new kink to add to the list for Patrick, begging was hot. He slowly slid Richie's boxers off and spread his legs and looked at Richie hungrily.

"Please!" Richie begged.


"I got you baby", Patrick assured.

Patrick sunk down and spread Richie's cheeks and began to lightly lick at Richie's hole.


Patrick began to move his tongue around Richie's hole, teasing with all of the movement. Then broad licks got Richie nice and wet for Patrick to slowly start fucking Richie with his tongue.

"Oh my god! Fuck!"

Patrick enjoyed hearing Richie come undone, he loved tasting Richie, he loved feeling the tight muscle around his tongue as he fucked his tongue in and out. Richie's legs were trembling and his moaning grew louder.
Patrick grabbed the bottle of lube he grabbed earlier when he took out the ties from his bedside table, put a generous coating on his middle finger, and as his tongue breached Richie's hole, he began to slowly insert his finger.

"Holy fuck!"

Patrick's finger fucked Richie's hole in and out, in and out, he was shortly able to add another finger. Before Richie knew it, he felt the most intense jolt of pleasure in his entire body and he almost screamed.

"Right there! Holy shit right fucking there!"

Patrick chuckled and continued to hit Richie's prostate with every single thrust of his finger.

"Patrick! Please, fuck me, please! I'm ready!"

"You sure baby? Think you can handle it?" Patrick teased.

Richie nodded quickly, tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, he was too pretty to be denied any longer so he pulled his fingers out, Richie whimpered at the loss, and watched as Patrick rolled a condom on his dick and then covered it with lube.

He aligned his dick with Richie's hole, just barely touching, and looked at Richie for confirmation, Richie nodded and so Patrick began to slowly slide in. He would stop after a few inches to let Richie adjust, listened for any signs of pain, then continue on.

"Oh my god Patrick, you feel so fucking good!"

"And you feel so nice and tight", Patrick said.

Once he was fully inside to the hilt, he stopped and kept still until Richie gave the word to move. Both boys were breathing heavily and looking into each other's eyes.

"I'm really glad its you", Richie admitted.

Patrick smiled and felt warmth overtake his chest. He needed this, he needed to feel this sense of care, this wonderful sense of love. He craved love and affection even when he would push it away, he usually didn't feel deserving of it, but now, he did, he truly felt like he deserved to have someone care about him.

"You can move", Richie said.

So Patrick slowly slid almost all the way out, then more quickly, slid back inside, bringing out a moan from Richie. He got to a steady pace and he felt on top of the world. Sure he had fucked other guys before but Richie was different. He cared about Richie more than the others. He wanted to make Richie feel good, he cared more about Richie's pleasure than his own.


As Patrick began to thrust faster and faster, Richie could feel that heat, that almost boiling sensation in his lower abdomen, Patrick was feeling the same way but he would not let himself come until Richie did.

"I'm close", Richie whispered.

Patrick nodded and raised Richie's hips just a little and at that angle, hit Richie's prostate every time.

"Yes! God yes! There!" Richie yelled.

Patrick continued to thrust harder, sweat was beading on his forehead. He was ready to see Richie come.

"I'm gonna-"

Richie felt his dick twitch and then hot white ropes of cum landed on his stomach and chest. The sight was too much for Patrick, his hips stuttered and he began to fill up the condom he was wearing. He kept up the movement through their orgasms and slowly stopped once he began to feel overstimulated.

"So that just happened", Richie chuckled out.

Patrick pulled out and removed the condom and grabbed the towel on the bed to clean up. He then undid the ties from Richie's wrists and let Richie clean himself up. Once finished, Richie threw the towel on the floor and Patrick laid down next to him, pulling the blankets over them.

"That was amazing", Richie said.

"It was", Patrick said as he kissed Richie's cheek.

"I always heard the first time would be awkward and weird but that blew my mind!"

Patrick stiffened, he didn't know Richie was a virgin, Richie had never slept with anyone before? He felt bad that he didn't know, he would have tried to make it more special if he had of known.

"You were a virgin?" Patrick asked.

"Yeah, it's no big deal, virginity is a social construct."

Patrick wrapped his arms around Richie and held him, both still naked but comfortable. The moment before falling asleep was very intimate, it truly felt peaceful and safe. Nothing could go wrong in this bubble. Nothing could harm them, they had each other and that was enough.




Brick walls with blood flowing down them surrounded Patrick. He should be feeling unease, he should be feeling nausea, but instead he feels good, great even!He has Richie laying on the ground in front of him, he isn't tied up but he isn't trying to get away either. It's like he's frozen in place but the look on his face is pure fear.
Patrick slowly glides his knife across Richie's skin, he isn't applying any pressure so no skin is being sliced, but he can tell it's unnerving for Richie, to be completely naked, unable to move, and having someone glide a knife on your skin. Patrick is almost jealous.

Richie whimpers and shakes, he knows he's going to die, tears fall down his cheeks and he refuses to look Patrick in the face. So Patrick gets his attention, he applies just enough pressure to the knife to make it scratch but not bleed. Richie yelped at the sensation and looked at his leg to see if there was blood, there wasn't.

"This is going to be fun", Patrick said as he laughs maniacally.

Chapter Text

The night was chilly and where Patrick was standing was extremely dark. He honestly had no memory of how he got to where he is now. He stared at the fridge, trembling as he looked around trying to make sense of what had happened. He felt the cold metal of a knife in his hand, he also felt something wet and sticky covering his arms and hands. The moonlight was enough for him to see he was covered in blood. Did he hurt someone? The last thing he remembered was smoking a joint and then going to bed.

The sounds of the wind through the trees, owls, and crickets chirping almost gave the atmosphere a calming effect. Unfortunately for Patrick, he felt more tense than ever. He looked down and noticed he was in boxers, a t-shirt, and no shoes. Did he sleepwalk? He had never done that before. Maybe he disassociated. He knows he has done that.
There were blood splatters on his legs, chest, and face. He desperately wanted to know whose blood it was but he was also afraid to find out. He slowly opened the fridge but the only thing inside that was different from last time was a single red balloon floating.

Patrick stared at the balloon puzzled. Then he was startled by the balloon popping and blood splattering the inside of the fridge and all over Patrick. The balloon was just like any normal balloon, but the amount of blood that was apparently inside of it was a lot more than what could fit. Plus the balloon had been floating and it would have been unable to do so if it was filled with blood. Also how was the blood still warm?

Patrick closed the fridge, tried to wipe off some of the blood that caked his face, and then began the walk home. Of course he was barefoot so he had to be extra cautious he didn't step on something sharp while in the dump. All he needed was to get tetanus.




Once Patrick was home he made his way to his bathroom and turned on the shower. He took off his bloody clothes and set them on the floor. The knife was rinsed off in the sink then set down on the counter. Now he could get under the hot water in his shower and wash away the evidence that he had possibly murdered someone.

The water felt amazing on Patrick's skin, he had been so cold, especially while wet with blood. He watched as the color red ran down his body and down the drain. He made sure the water ran clear before he started to wash his hair. He still had no idea what he had done and it terrified him. He would have to burn his clothing in case someone went looking for answers, which sucked because he liked that shirt. It was a pale yellow with a cartoon cat on it, he had no idea where he got it from but for some reason even though it was not his style, it was still his favorite shirt.

He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and next he used conditioner because he loved having his hair soft, so sue him. He scrubbed every inch of his body with soap until his skin was pink, then he rinsed out the conditioner. He shut off the water and grabbed his towel to start drying off. He stood in front of the mirror and wiped off the water.

He saw a bloodied decaying face behind him in the mirror and he yelled while quickly turning around but nothing was there. He looked into the mirror again and only his reflection looked back at him. He shook his head and continued to dry off.




School the next day was a living nightmare for Patrick. He was exhausted since he could not fall asleep, so he basically got no sleep. His mom didn't make coffee because she was out of coffee filters so he didn't get his morning dose of wake up juice which in turn caused a terrible migraine.
He was grumpy and he knew it, Richie tried to cheer him up but he would either just ignore Richie's attempts or he would tell him to stop.  He just wanted to go home and sleep. Stupid face in the mirror had to freak him out so he couldn't sleep.

Lunch was halfway over, Richie had disappeared and never came to their table so Patrick sat with Richie's friends feeling awkward. Eddie was kind enough to talk to him every now and then.
Patrick felt an arm around his shoulders and then Richie was sitting next to him holding a cup of coffee in front of Patrick.

"I know you're having a rough day so I thought this might help", Richie explained as he handed over the coffee.

Patrick stared at the cup and then took a sip. Hot delicious coffee filled his mouth and he sighed in content and smiled.

"You used up most of your lunch break to get me coffee?"

Richie blushed and looked down as he nodded. Patrick thought it was too cute and the gesture was endearing. He felt so cared for in that moment. Here he had been acting shitty and Richie was still kind to him and went out of his way to help him feel better.

The rest of the table was staring at Richie and Patrick in disbelief. Sure Richie was sweet and often did nice things for his friends but he had been friends with them since they were little, Patrick hadn't even been there a year and Richie was already treating him like how he treats the rest of them.

Under the table Patrick touched Richie's hand, a small smile on his face as he side eyed him. Richie smiled and took Patrick's hand into his own, interlocking their fingers. No one else at the table noticed, unknown to them however, someone in the cafeteria did notice. That someone was going to beat the shit out of them for having the balls to do such a thing.

"How are you feeling Patrick?" Eddie asked.

"A lot better now. Sorry I've been a dick, bad night and morning."

Richie squeezed Patrick's hand in reassurance. Eddie noticed their gaze lasted a few seconds longer than it should and he grew curious. Richie almost had heart eyes and it was concerning. Only because Richie was his best friend and that makes him very protective of Richie. He watched their stolen glances and secret smiles when they thought no one was looking. Eddie knew it even though he didn't want to, Richie liked Patrick, and it made Eddie's stomach drop.




Patrick and Richie were walking home from school together, normally Richie would hang out with his friends or walk Eddie home, but today he felt like hanging out with Patrick. The sun was shining and it was just chilly enough to wear a sweater but warm enough that it wasn't needed. They joked around, shoved each other while laughing, which made them blissfully unaware of who was following them.

"Hey fairies!"

Both boys turned around to see Henry Bowers standing with his goons, Victor and Belch, slightly behind him.

"Wow! They are fairies! They turned around when you called them that!" Belch said while laughing.

"We turned around because we recognized your ugly ass voice and knew it was you!" Richie fired back.

Henry's gross smile turned into an angry frown. He had gotten a new knife, well stole another one from his father, and he twirled and flipped it around to make sure his victims saw it. Victor looked slightly uncomfortable but ready to start swinging if needed. Belch was bouncing excitedly, ready for a fight. Henry started walking slowly towards Richie and Patrick.

"I saw you faggots holding hands in the cafeteria at school. You should know better than to do that shit! Fucking disgusting", Henry sneered.

The color drained from Richie's face and he looked at Patrick panicked. Patrick didn't seem as alarmed but he knew this wasn't good for them. Of course he had to fuck up and get Richie into trouble, if it was only himself he wouldn't care, but since Richie was involved, he did care. He wasn't going to let these assholes hurt him.

"Fuck off Bowers", Patrick spoke up.

The bullies froze and looked shocked. He had never spoken around them before, except for Victor, but that was when he was drunk.

"So you aren't a fucking mute. Well, well, well. Now I get to enjoy hearing you scream and beg for me to stop", Henry said looking amused.

"Do what you want to me, but do not touch Richie."

Richie gasped at Patrick's words and was about to object but Patrick waved him off. It wasn't the first time he had the shit beat out of him and it wouldn't be the last. He could take it, he had a high tolerance for pain.
Henry ran to Patrick and shoved his knife into his stomach then yanked it back out, learning from last time to keep a good grip on it. Patrick felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and he softly gasped. Blood started coating his shirt around the wound and dripped down onto the sidewalk.

"Big mistake fucker", Patrick muttered and flung himself on Henry making him fall on his back with Patrick on top of him.

Victor and Belch just stood there, unsure of what to do. Richie felt frozen into place with terror. Patrick smiled wildly as he straddled Henry, his legs holding Henry's arms at his side, the knife dropped when they fell. Henry thrashed around but it was no use, he was trapped.
"What to do first... hmm..." Patrick trailed off and pretending to think.

He pulled out the knife he had stolen from Henry, he didn't even remember putting it in his pocket, and he sprung it open. Henry yelped and his body froze. Henry stared at the knife as if watching it would keep it from cutting him.

"I could do what you did to me... or I could slit your fucking throat!" Patrick said in a dark voice, holding the knife to Henry's throat just hard enough to slightly leave a little cut.

Henry's eyes were wide with terror, Patrick could see this piece of shit was actually scared and he loved it. His eyes filled with glee and to Henry it looked like he was going crazy. Patrick laughed loudly and dug the knife a little deeper then punched Henry right in the nose.
Richie, Victor, and Belch winced and Henry looked like he was seeing stars, and not in the good way. Blood poured out of his nose and Patrick kept laughing and began to smear the blood all around Henry's face.

"You should see your face!" Patrick said laughing and punched Henry again.

"Patrick, stop!" Richie yelled.

Patrick paid him no mind. He set the knife down and began to punch Henry in the face over and over again. He continued to laugh maniacally as his knuckles began to bruise and more blood flowed from Henry's nose and now his mouth.
Belch and Victor yelled for Patrick to stop and were too afraid to get any closer. Richie wanted to make Patrick stop, he was going too far and it scared him. Patrick stopped punching and Henry groaned. The knife was picked back up and Patrick twirled it in his hands acting like he was thinking.

"Now what to do? There are so many options! I could stab you here, or here, oh I could gouge your eye out! That would be fun! You want that Henry?"

Henry tried shaking his head and groaned, he most certainly did not want to lose an eye. He began to tremble under Patrick and when Patrick felt it, he smirked. This was more like it, fighting back never felt so good.

"You're fucking scared! Hey! Henry is fucking scared! He is shaking like the baby he is!" Patrick yelled to everyone.

"Patrick please stop, you're going too far, you defended yourself, let's go, please", Richie begged.

"In a minute babe, I'm not done playing yet", Patrick said with a gleam in his eye.

Henry felt the knife stab his shoulder, it wouldn't kill him, but it sure did hurt. He screamed from the pain and then Patrick tried to stick his finger in the wound but it wouldn't fit. He stabbed Henry two more times. Henry pissed himself and then passed out.

Patrick laughed and looked up at Belch and Victor. Their eyes widened and then they turned around and ran away. That made Patrick laugh more. He got off of Henry, thankfully he wasn't peed on and put his knife up. He walked to Richie and frowned when he saw Richie's face.
Richie looked terrified, and worse, he was crying. He was shaking like a leaf and crying. The way Patrick looked snapped him out of his rage and he immediately fell to his knees. He could feel the pain from his stab wound now and looked up to Richie.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to scare you."

Richie eyed him cautiously and then got down on his knees and looked at Patrick sniffling.

"What the fuck. You might have killed him! Even Henry doesn't deserve that!"

Patrick began to cry and shake his head. What had he done? He scared Richie, almost killed Henry, and might possibly get thrown in jail if Henry's goons get the police.

"I know! I'm so sorry. I swear I have never done anything like this before. I don't know what happened."

Richie cupped Patrick's cheeks and used his thumb to wipe away a tear. He could see the earnestness in Patrick's eyes. He was telling the truth.

"You can't ever do anything like that again. That was scary. I didn't even recognize you. Your eyes looked feral and like... you were enjoying it", Richie shuddered at the last part.

Patrick looked down in shame, he doesn't even remember what he did exactly, he can't remember what all he said either. Where was his head during it all? He remembered shoving Henry down and then the rest was blank. He had just had it a minute ago and now it was gone.

"Richie, what all did I do?"

Chapter Text

"So you really don't remember what happened?" Eddie asked, a little skeptical.

Patrick nodded, sitting on his bed, looking at the floor. His knuckles were bloodied and bruised, Richie had taken him to the hospital for the stab wound, several stitches later and they were able to leave. Richie had called Eddie to come by Patrick's house.

"Well, having fits of rage, losing time, and memory loss could mean something is wrong with your brain, like a tumor or a lesion. You should get some brain scans done if you never have done this before", Eddie seeing the wince on Patrick's face continued, "it has only been this one time? Right?"

Patrick shrugged and refused to make eye contact. He couldn't tell anyone about waking up in front of the fridge. He couldn't tell anyone he woke up splattered with blood. He sure as hell couldn't tell anyone about that goddamn balloon filled with blood.

"Patrick?" Richie asked carefully.

"Last night, something happened. I don't know what but I know something did."

Eddie swore under his breath and gave Richie a look. Patrick saw their unspoken conversation and he shook his head.

"Just go, I want to be alone", Patrick groaned.

Eddie started walking to the door but Richie wouldn't budge. He shook his head and stared Patrick down, refusing to back down.

"Richie please, just let me get some sleep."

Richie relented and begrudgingly followed Eddie out the door, waved sadly, and shut the door. Patrick heard their footsteps go down the stairs and then he heard the front door shut. He sighed and laid down, covering his eyes with his arm, and tried to fall asleep. The painkillers the doctor gave him made him sleepy so he might get some good sleep after all.





When Patrick woke up, it was dark outside, moon high up in the sky, and crickets chirping. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes. His whole body felt heavy and his stomach growled but he didn't have the energy to go downstairs and grab some food.

He needed to feel something, he felt so numb and he never liked feeling numb. He got up and found one of his razors and began to slide it down his arm from his wrist to his inner elbow. That burn from the blade he knew all too well felt amazing, relief flooding through his entire body. Blood poured from his arm and he didn't even have it in him to care that he was probably going to die.

He had never cut himself that badly before, it was thrilling, he started to feel a little fuzzy from the blood loss, so he started to laugh. He wasn't even sure why he was laughing, he just sat on the floor, laughing as more and more blood poured out his arm. His eyes were watering and his breath started to catch, he felt cold, and he wasn't sure why his breathing was short and harsh inhales.
He felt like closing his eyes, but they felt wet. When had he started crying? He was still laughing but also crying, and in that moment he felt crazy. He was laughing and crying like a maniac and he didn't even care he was dying, he still didn't care.

His eyes were closed but he felt himself being laid down. He didn't have it in him to open his eyes to see who was there but the next moment he felt something begin to wrap around his arm, tight. It wasn't pleasant and he groaned in disapproval but the wrapping continued from his elbow to his wrist.

Next he felt like he was being picked up, lifted up bridal style and he hated it. He thrashed around a bit but lost the energy to keep it up. At least whoever was holding him was warm. He fell out of consciousness for a while, came to for a little bit and he felt like he was in a car, then promptly blacked out again.






The first sensation Patrick had when he woke up was that he was ridiculously cold. Then the next he heard a steady beeping sound. He smelled disinfectant and that smell that could only be described as "hospital". His mouth was dry as a bone and tasted terrible. He knew where ever he was, was very bright so he braced himself before opening his eyes.

He groaned and looked around, he was in a hospital room. Fuck. He saw Richie in a chair pulled up to the bed and he was slumped over the bed, he had been there all night. He must have been the one to take him to the hospital, but why? He tried to think back on what he remembered last, he was pretty sure he was in a car, then he was pretty sure someone was picking him up.
He gasped as he realized what had happened, it came crashing back to him in waves, the pain he felt, the relief, the insanity, it was all too much. He began to panic and that woke Richie up.

"Patrick! Oh my god you're awake!" Richie yelled and stood up to wrap his arms around Patrick's neck and hugged him.

Patrick stiffened and Richie pulled away, a little confused.

"Are you mad at me?" Richie asked quietly.

"No", Patrick said roughly.

Richie grabbed a cup on the table by the bed and poured water into it and placed a straw in the drink and held it to Patrick's lips. Patrick gratefully began to drink and he already felt a lot better just by a little water.
The doctor came in and was pleased to see Patrick awake. He was a nice looking middle aged man, probably in his late thirties, dark skin, kind brown eyes, and pristine white teeth. His name tag said Dr. Taylor and the smile on his face said he actually gave a shit about his patients.

"I see you're awake Mr. Hockstetter, you had us worried there, you lost a lot of blood."

Patrick didn't say anything so Richie took the reins.

"So can he go home now?"

"Since he tried to take his own life, we have to hold him here for three days, make sure he isn't a risk to himself and get cleared by our psychiatrist", Dr. Taylor replied.

Richie nodded and Patrick just stared. He really didn't want to be there for three days, he wanted to go home. He didn't want to talk about his feelings, he just wanted to forget last night. If the doctors here learned about any of the weird things Patrick had seen or done, he could be locked up forever. The safe thing to do was leave as soon as possible.

"I didn't try to kill myself, it was an accident", Patrick insisted.

"I'm sorry Patrick, but it's our policy."

The doctor left and the room was silent again. Richie looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back and that set off sirens in Patrick's head. He wasn't sure if Richie was sad or angry.

"Lets go", Patrick said, trying to sit up so he could get out of his bed.

"But Dr. Taylor sai-"

"I don't care. I'm not staying here for three days, where are my clothes?"

Richie reluctantly handed Patrick his clothes, blood stains covered his shirt and pajama pants but he would worry about that later. He noticed Richie was also covered in his blood, he felt bad for causing this much of a mess and hassle for Richie.

He carefully pulled out his IV, sat up slowly, he still felt a bit lightheaded, and then began getting dressed. Richie looked away but ended up having to help Patrick since he had one broken hand and a stitched up arm. Once Patrick was done they carefully left the hospital, unseen.






Richie drove, no music playing, just silence, Patrick looked out the window. He watched the trees go by, his arm ached but he didn't care.


Patrick looked over confused and looked at Richie questioningly.

"Why did you try to kill yourself?" Richie asked a little louder and with more bite to it.

"I didn't."

Richie pulled to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. Patrick was not expecting the sudden stop and glared at Richie. Thankfully both had their seat belts on or they would have gone straight through the windshield.

"Bull fucking shit!" Richie yelled.

"I didn't! I was numb, I just wanted to feel, I didn't even realize I cut down that far, I felt so relieved when I felt the burn, I felt alive", Patrick explained.

Richie's eyes teared up and he looked so crushed. Patrick felt guilty and looked away but Richie grabbed Patrick's face and forced him to look at him.

"If you need to feel something then feel me! Let me be the sensation you need to drive away the numbness. I can help if you let me. Just come to me next time, I'll always be here for you", Richie pleaded.

Patrick exhaled in defeat and didn't respond. He already felt like a lost cause, he was sinking deeper and deeper into a darkness that welcomed him with open arms.
Richie huffed but pulled back on the road and continued the drive home, he was still upset, neither of them spoke again until they got home. Richie parked in his driveway, and Patrick walked to his house.




Walking inside the Hockstetter home was like trying to avoid stepping on landmines, he knew they were there, he had to walk carefully and as quietly as possible, or there would be hell to pay. He made it to the first step before he was caught.

"Patrick Hockstetter! What in the world is going on?" Patrick's mother yelled as she and her husband walked into view and glared.

Before Patrick could say a word his mother was already holding a hand up.

"I got a call from the hospital saying you left after being told you had to stay for a three day hold because you tried to kill yourself?!"

"I wasn't trying to fucking kill myself! It was an accident!"

Mrs. Hockstetter gave her son "the look" that got on to him for using language but Patrick really didn't care at the moment. The last thing he needed was his parents dragging him back to that hospital. They would have to drug him before he went back.

"Son, if this is about Avery-"

"Holy shit! Its not about fucking Avery dad! Can your son who is still alive not have problems that aren't related to him accidentally killing his baby brother?! I'm sick of being defined by that!" Patrick yelled and then stormed upstairs and slammed his room door.

He saw the giant blood puddle soaked into the carpet and sighed, sometimes he felt like the whole world was messed up and he was the only normal thing in the entire universe. He heard Richie speaking to his parents downstairs and a soft smile played on his lips.

"I'm so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Hockstetter. He just needs some sleep, the hospital overreacted is all. It was an accident, I was there, that's why I rushed him to the hospital. The doctor wouldn't believe him and he is just really annoyed about it", Richie lied.




Richie walked into Patrick's and flopped next to Patrick on the bed. He hated lying about something like this, the safety of someone he cared about. Patrick smirked at Richie and chuckled.

"You're a pretty good liar."

"Shut up, don't make me regret it", Richie mumbled.

Patrick turned onto his side and placed his hand on Richie's cheek. He looked into Richie's eyes sweetly then leaned in for a soft kiss. Richie hummed in content and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The kiss was slow and long, just enjoying the feeling of each other's lips on the other's.

"I'm gonna get out of these bloody clothes, you're welcome to borrow something to wear since your clothes are pretty bad too", Patrick whispered against Richie's lips before sitting up and getting out of bed.

He walked to his closet and he heard Richie groan behind him but he got up and followed. He handed Richie an over sized Disturbed band tee and some pajama pants. He grabbed a Suicide Silence band tee and pajama pants for himself.The boys changed clothes in silence and once in cleaner clothes, they laid down in Patrick's bed, holding each other.

Patrick's arm was throbbing but he ignored it. He could take more painkillers but who know what all the hospital pumped in him while he was out. He ran his fingers through Richie's curls and soon they were both passed out, both exhausted from their long night.





Patrick is standing in front of a tall mirror, it's dark around him but he can see himself in the mirror perfectly clear. He's holding a knife and his face looks rough. Dark bags under his eyes, he looks a little thinner, and he seems even more pale if that's possible.

"Prove yourself", a voice booms all around him.

Patrick looks all around but he sees nothing except the mirror. He takes a step closer to it and reaches out to touch it but stops as he hears those same words.

"Prove yourself!"

The words start coming over and over again, whispers and yells, faster and slower. His hand holding the knife shakes and he lifts the knife to the side of his neck, looks at himself in the mirror and pulls the knife from one side of his neck to the other.
He smiles a very creepy smile and starts to laugh as blood begins to gush out his neck. He feels a hand rest on his shoulder, covered in a white glove. The hand tightens its grip on Patrick's shoulder for a second then lets go.

"Goooooood", the voice trails off.

Patrick stands there bleeding out, still laughing like a madman. He proved himself to whoever was demanding it and he passed. He passed the test and now it was his time to go out and wreak havoc.




Patrick woke up to Richie gone, all alone in his room. His dreams kept getting weirder but this time he woke up not feeling scared. Maybe he just needed some decent sleep. Lack of sleep can cause paranoia and maybe that's all his problem was. He was starting to never feel alone anymore, whether that was good or bad he wasn't sure yet.

He picked up the knife that was on the floor, looked at it closely, and then threw it out the window. Why still keep the knife Henry used to hurt him? He wanted to go out and get his own, maybe a cool butterfly knife. Going back to his bed to try to sleep some more he noticed the knife, the same one he threw out the window, was literally in the same exact spot he picked it up from off the floor.

Confused he picked it up again and threw it out the same window, maybe he just imagined it the first time. Again when he walked back to his bed, the knife was in the same spot on the floor. He picked it up but this time put it in his pocket, made it to his bed, the knife still in his pocket, and even though he should really question it, he didn't.

Chapter Text

Things had been a bit different since Patrick came home from the hospital. His parents started doing daily body checks on Patrick. Every morning his parents came into his room, made him strip down to his boxers, and then checked for any new cuts or burns. They had been very displeased with the amount of scarring that was on their son's body.
It was embarrassing for Patrick, the worst part of his day, but when his parents finally left his room and he was able to put on his pajama pants and a shirt, he would come downstairs to coffee and breakfast. They made a rule that Patrick could not wear long sleeves in the house, at least for the time being, until they felt secure that their son wasn't going to hurt himself anymore.
Patrick hated the new rule. He felt so incomplete without his hoodie, it was like a security blanket. He was allowed to wear them at school, mostly because his parents didn't want teachers asking questions and getting CPS called on them again.

Patrick's father sipped his coffee, scrolling through news feeds, his mother filling up plates of food for her family. This morning breakfast was blueberry cream crepes. Surely his mom was up half the night looking up recipes for she had never made crepes before.

"How are they?" his mother asked after she sat down.

That was another rule, Patrick had to eat something at breakfast, no more getting away with just coffee. He gave his mother a halfhearted thumbs up and continued trying to eat. He hadn't said much to either of his parents, he was always so tired and the effort to just exist  was heavy enough.


Once he finished breakfast he trudged his way upstairs to take a shower and get dressed for school. His arm was healing, he was hoping to get the stitches taken out soon. He still felt a slight burn when the water from the shower would hit his arm but at least it was bearable. At first it was agonizing and he avoided getting his arm wet at all costs.
He wrapped a towel around his waist, his wet hair dripping on his bare shoulders, and he looked at himself in the mirror. He hated what he saw, a skinny pale boy with too many scars and bags under his eyes.

Now to decide on clothing, it was actually getting warmer in Derry, the sun would shine during the day, and he would actually start feeling warm in a hoodie. He grabbed a tight black shirt with a white gothic design, black ripped skinny jeans, and instead of a hoodie, he grabbed a black and white flannel button down shirt to wear unbuttoned.


He left the house and started walking towards Richie's house when he saw the cute nerd walk out the front door saying goodbye to his mom. Patrick stopped at the end of the walkway to wait for Richie, he started to roll his flannel sleeves up. He was sick of his parents constantly making sure his arms were covered and in rebellion, he was going to not cover them.
Richie walked up to him and smiled. He was wearing jeans, an Animal Crossing shirt, and a pink Hawaiian button up. It was honestly the softest Richie had ever looked and Patrick could feel his cheeks being dusted with a pink tint. Richie was honestly pretty, for a nerdy guy. He was a huge dork, but he felt himself falling harder for the boy next door.

"How's the arm feeling?"

Patrick held his arm up, the black stitches from his wrist to his inner elbow was a stark contrast to his pale skin, even the redness didn't help much. The stitches stood out like a sore thumb. They looked ugly, at least to Patrick, and they were starting to feel uncomfortable, like soon they would be ready to come out.

"A pain as always."

Richie nodded and the two of them started walking to school. They usually didn't say much on their walk to school, the comfortable silence was always welcome, but Richie was practically vibrating with excitement and Patrick couldn't help but smile.

"So I was gonna wait till lunch, but I can't wait, I'm going to have a sleepover with all my friends and I was wondering if you wanted to come?"

Patrick was taken aback at first, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he was invited to a sleepover, had he ever been invited to one? Richie had stopped walking when he asked and he stared impatiently patient at Patrick, waiting for an answer. Should he go? He wasn't sleeping much, it would be nice to just chill for a night. Would his friends be fine with it? They tolerated him but he wasn't one of them.

"Uh, sure. Will your friends be ok with that?" Patrick asked.

"Why wouldn't they be? They're your friends too", Richie said as he started walking again.





Patrick sat in his first class bored out of his mind, he tried drawing some but he couldn't stay focused. Richie would turn back every so often to look at Patrick and each time, Patrick would grin. He didn't want Richie worried about him but he knew he was.

When the bell rang, Richie and Patrick were the last to walk out. They noticed the halls were oddly quiet, they looked around and found the source, to everyone's horror, Henry Bowers was at his locker. He looked like total shit, bruises everywhere, a busted lip, two black eyes, his nose had been broken, and a lot of spots on his face were swollen. He looked like he went through Hell.
Richie froze when Henry saw the both of them and walked up to them. Victor and Belch were close behind, both had a black eye, Henry must have punished them for ditching him. Henry stared down Patrick but after a moment he grinned.

"I gotta say, not bad. Almost died. Although it looks like you almost died yourself", Henry said pointing at Patrick's arm, "You're in our group once you ditch those faggy losers."

"Hate to break it to you but I'm also a faggy loser so still no", Patrick said as he shoved his way through the Bowers gang, grabbing Richie's hand and pulling him along.


Richie was speechless, he barely registered that Patrick was pulling him away. The entire hallway was still silent, watching Patrick as he walked by. Once at his locker, he let go of Richie's hand and started getting his things for his next class. Richie was still frozen and staring at Patrick.

"What? I don't give a fuck what people think of me."

Richie swallowed and nodded. His hand burned thinking about Patrick holding it and pulling him away from the bullies. Would people think he was gay? He didn't want to admit he likes having his hand held walking down the hall.

"You realize he's going to murder you right? You turned him down again and held my hand. He is going to kill you", Richie said quietly.

Patrick only shrugged and started his walk to his next class. Students stared at his arm, his teachers gave unimpressed looks, and he heard the whispers around him, they talked about how he couldn't even attempt suicide right. He fucked up everything, including dying. Why would he worry about all the Bowers gang bullshit or people thinking he was gay because he pulled his friend away from bullies? Why would he worry about Henry trying to kill him? He tried once already and it didn't work, he wasn't scared of dying, but he was afraid of what would happen to Richie. He cared about what happened to Richie and he knew if he died, Richie would be heartbroken, so now he actually had a reason to prevent his death. 





Lunch time rolled around and Richie was telling his friends about him being able to have a sleepover. The whole group of eight was squished around a table that only held six people. No one minded the close proximity and Patrick was on the end so only Richie was pressed against him. Patrick actually liked the warmth of Richie's body against his, it was comforting.

Everyone loved having their sleepovers at Richie's house since his parents always left them alone as long as they weren't too loud. The group grew excited and started talking about who would bring what.

"I can bring the booze, my dad has some many bottles in his liquor cabinet that he won't even notice any missing", Bill offered.

"I want to bring some snacks, I might even make some cookies!" Ben said excitedly.

"I could get some weed for us all", Bev said after taking a sip of her water.


Richie was smiling and starting to bounce in his seat. Patrick found it adorable but he tried not to look too much. He didn't want anyone catching him staring at Richie, and if anyone was going to catch him, it would be Eddie, he was always looking at Richie so he always noticed if Patrick looked at Richie for just a second too long.

He stole a fry from Richie and smiled innocently when Richie caught him and giggled. Richie stole a chip from Patrick and made a goofy face before shoving the chip in his mouth and crunching it loudly. Eddie shook his head and rolled his eyes at Richie's antics.

"We aren't going to sneak out and have a bonfire in the woods like last time are we?" Eddie asked warily.

"I also would prefer not sneaking out to go out in the woods in the dark", Stan piped up.

"I thought it was fun making s'mores and trying not to burn ourselves!" Mike said while laughing.

Richie's friend group really were such a tight knit group, could Patrick really fully join them? He still had a feeling most of the group wasn't a big fan of him. He didn't blame them but he had this urge to get their approval. He wanted them to think he was worthy of hanging around Richie.





Patrick and Richie were sitting on Patrick's roof, smoking cigarettes and looking at the beautiful night sky. Moments like these were Patrick's favorite, just relaxing with a cute boy, forgetting the shit weighing him down, and just being able to breathe.
Richie blew out smoke rings and waggled his eyebrows at Patrick which caused a giggle to escape Patrick's lips. Looking accomplished, Richie inhaled again and then blew the smoke out of his nose.

"You're cute", Patrick murmured.

Richie leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Patrick's lips then pulled away, smiling sweetly. Those blue eyes were going to be the death of Patrick and all he could do was willingly drown in them. The stars reflecting in Richie's eyes gave him such an innocent aura and Patrick was dying to take Richie apart.

"What are we?" Richie asked after a moment of only the crickets being heard.

Patrick blew out the smoke he had just inhaled and put out the cigarette, tossing it away from him, landing on the roof a few feet down from him. What could he say? He didn't even know the answer. He didn't feel right dating someone he had to hide, he also didn't want to share him with someone else either.

"I don't know, just us."

Richie looked a little confused but shook it off quickly and grinned. It wasn't really an answer, but he could deal with that for now. Things were hectic and he had a hunch that Patrick never had anything other than hookups and friends with benefits. Richie would prove he cared about Patrick and wanted more.


"Want to sleep in my bed tonight?" Richie asked.

Patrick nodded so they made their way to Richie's window and slipped inside. Richie's room was dark, but they could still see enough to walk around. They both crawled into the bed and laid on their sides, facing each other. Richie's sweet smile was the only thing Patrick could look at. He scooted closer until their noses were touching and closed his eyes.

"You're really comforting", Patrick whispered.

Richie put his hand on the back of Patrick's neck and pulled him forward, closing the gap between their lips and slowly kissed Patrick. Patrick grabbed Richie's shirt and held on to it, Richie deepened the kiss and moved his legs to intertwine with Patrick's. They kissed for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of their lips on the other's, the tingles that jolted through their bodies as their skin touched in several places.

When Patrick finally broke the kiss, he began to leave soft kisses on Richie's neck, being careful to not leave any marks, Richie humming in contentment encouraged Patrick to keep going, he could feel both of their hearts racing, he knew he should settle down before things went any further.

"Richie? We should probably get some sleep", Patrick whispered in Richie's ear.

The hot air tickling Richie's ear caused him to whimper but he nodded his head. Patrick pulled away but asked Richie to turn around. He pulled Richie to him once he was facing away and they were flush against each other, Patrick's chest to Richie's back. His arms were around Richie, holding him as they fell asleep.





Patrick felt something crawling all over his body but it was too dark to see what it was. He squirmed around trying to make it stop but the feeling only intensified. He knew something was crawling all over him, he just didn't know what. He felt small bites that felt like needles but he tried not to focus on it.
He tried crawling away, but all he could hear was squishing sounds and he started feeling weaker. Whatever was on him felt like it was sucking the very life out of him. He tried desperately to get away but to no avail.

The ground began to feel more wet and squishy, the squelch sounds echoing all around him. He just wanted to go home, but he had this sense of dread that he would never make it back.
Flames erupted all around him, he scrambled around trying to find a way of escape but no such luck. He was stuck, surrounded by fire and being eaten alive by something. He heard his name being drifted to his ears from far away. Then he realized it was Richie calling for his help.

He tried to get to Richie, he tried his hardest but he heard the sound of flesh ripping, blood dripping on the ground, and the last blood curdling scream that escaped Richie's mouth. Patrick screamed into the dark, still trying to drag himself to Richie despite the fire around him.

Finally his hand landed in a puddle, it felt wet and slightly sticky. The smell of metal was overwhelming and almost made Patrick hurl. His hand finally landed on Richie's still body, hearing the gurgling of blood escaping the body. Patrick cried and screamed. Richie was dead and he couldn't save him. He slammed his fist on the ground until they were cut up and bloody.




Patrick woke up crying quietly into Richie's hair, a few hours had gone by and he shivered as the realization that it was all just a dream hit him. He felt Richie stir and then turn over on his side to face Patrick.

"Patrick? You ok?" he asked sleepily.

"Shh, yeah, I'm fine, go back to sleep", Patrick whispered and ran his fingers through Richie's hair.

Richie turned back over and was passed out once again, Patrick still holding him, trying to calm himself down so he could fall asleep again. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream. It wasn't real.

It was only a dream.