mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 54

Zack smiles and gently lies Richie back down, pulling the blanket up and over the boy's thin frame. Now that Richie isn't bundled up in layers upon layers of coats, Zack never noticed just how skinny Richie was until now, which makes a seed of guilt drip into his stomach at how he's neglected something that could be potentially a problem. He'll have to keep an eye on Richie. More than usual.

Zack slides the glasses off of Richie's face and sets them down on the bedside table beside him, exiting the room and heading downstairs. As he looks through the stack of business cards on top of the fridge, Sharon comes in with a worried look.

"How is he?" She asks.

Sharon took the day off to look after Richie while Bill was at school, but Zack came home early to make sure that things were okay. As laid back as these two are, they are still very much haunted by the PTSD and trauma of losing one son that they tend to overly worry when they run the risk of losing a second. It's just a fever for right now, but the thought of it evolving into something worse sent Zack to the breakroom to clock out and take a personal day to spend with his kid.

"His fever is worse," Zack smiles proudly. "Kid's got a nasty cold."

"Then why the hell are you smiling about it?" She gasps in exasperation.

Zack says with a fond voice, "Because he called me dad."

Richie has sweaty, restless dreams. His whole body hurts when he rolls over, but no position seems comfortable enough. He has to keep kicking his blankets off just to sit up and pull them back up to his chin a mere five minutes later. He feels delirious from the medication combating the fever itself, like everything is a fuzzy little fever dream on a static TV.

The next time that Richie is woken up, it's by Bill coming in and flopping down in Richie's squeaky desk chair so loudly that the wheels roll across the floor.

"Hey, big guy," Bill announces, kicking his legs up on the desk. "You still sick?"

Richie uncovers his head from beneath the blanket, his eyes swollen and his nose leaking. "Wuh."

"Oh, gross," Bill laughs. "Seriously, Eddie's completely fine. I don't get how you're on your deathbed when both of you dumbasses swam in the same water."

Richie lies his head back down against his pillow, blinking his bleary eyes over at his brother. Richie's curly hair plasters against his slick forehead, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat.

"So," Bill then sits forward a little bit. "We're all going out to Mike's today. We were going to push it back until you're feeling better, but this is really the only time that all of our schedules line up after school. Eddie's on his way over though! I told him I'd give him a ride."

"Ed," Richie breathes out, then smiles. "Mike?"

"Yeah, the big ol' goof. I haven't seen him in so long, I'm so excited. I've just been so busy with, you know," Bill gestures out openly as if he's trying to remember exactly what it is that he's been busy with. For some reason, he can't recall at all. To say he's been busy with his girlfriend is a lousy excuse, but Billy boy thinks he is in love. He spent a good part of his adolescence fantasizing about the girl he now calls his own, he's trying to make the most of their young love while he still can. Bill is convinced that one day she's going to realize she's too good for anybody in this town and leave the Loser's Club all behind.

"Mike," Richie breathes out again, rolling onto his back and letting his eyes shut. "Tired now. Head hurts."

"I'll bring up some water and some ibuprofen," Bill stands to his feet, reaching out to ruffle Richie's hair. When he notices how sweaty the tall one is, Bill decides against it.