𝔓𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 • 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖟𝖎𝖊𝖗 [1]

10 - 𝙱𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚑

"You guys take Ben."

All of the boys stared at me with confusion. Richie especially, "Well, yeah, we're taking Ben to get help. And you better not be saying what I think you're saying."

"Well, what do you think I'm saying?", I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at him profusely.

"I'm not leaving you here.", Richie's eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

"Rich, I'm not asking you to.", I replied to him, causing him to sigh in relief. "I'm telling you to."

Suddenly, his eyes grew wide. "Fuck no! I'm not leaving you out here alone when this guy just got cut up by Bowers and his goons! You heard what those motherfuckers said about you being alone! I'm not taking any chances!"

"Stop!", I shouted, flailing my arms out in front of me. "You're wasting time, Richie! He needs help. So move your ass!"

"You're getting on the fucking bike."

"You're not gonna tell me what to do.", I scoffed at him. "You don't own me."

"Ash, I swear to fucking god, if you don't get on this damn bike, I'll-"

"You'll what?", I asked with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

He dropped his bike, walking over to me. I stared him down once he stood directly in front of me. "Ash, please. Let's not do this out here, or at all. I'm asking you to please get on the bike."

I sighed softly, uncrossing my arms, "Richie, I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?", He asked. "Is it because Ben hates you?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but once I did, nothing came out. I glanced over at the others to see them staring, then I looked at Ben. His eyes burned through mine, but for the first time, he didn't fear me. You're able to sense fear off of others, but this look...oh, this look was more like an apologetic look. But what could he be sorry for? I was the one who was always a bitch to each of them.

"I don't hate you.", He spoke up, causing me to gulp down the sob forming in my throat. Richie turned to look at him over his shoulder. I could hear him sigh.

"See?", He turned back around to look at me. "Now, can we go?"

"I can't.", I shook my head lightly, tears brimming up in my eyes. "All I ever did was hurt you guys. I always said things, did things-"

"That you didn't mean.", Stanley stopped me before I could continue.

"Ash, we need to get him help.", Eddie spoke softly, "Ya know, before he bleeds too much."

I looked at Bill, waiting to see if he'd say something, too. There wasn't a word spoken from Bill, not even an attempt at speaking. I looked at him, and he looked at me, but that's all he could do.

"Come here.", Richie mumbled before pulling me into an embrace, and right on cue, I cried. "Shh, it's okay."

He pulled away, allowing me to wipe my eyes as I kept sobbing. He placed his hands on both of my shoulders, walking me towards his bike. He got on first, then held out his hand for me to get on, and I obliged. I shakily wrapped my arms around him, placing my forehead against his back once he began pedalling. I cried for all the times I hurt them, for all the times I could've stuck up for them, for all the times I realized what I was doing was wrong, but did them anyways. I cried for all the times I called them losers, and I cried for all the times I helped Bowers and Greta make fun of them.

♡ ʀ + ᴀ ♡

"I'm glad I got to meet you before you died.", Richie blurted out.