Chapter Text
The rain was relentless. It had been at it all day, never letting up, never slowing. Large droplets fell from the sky and crashed into his store window, pooling together and falling towards the pavement. The Buttercups had been saved, however the marigolds had been lost in the wake of it all. Eddie sat at his front counter, watching the people move along with no concern. Some carried umbrellas to shield themselves, more went without. Every now and then a wandering child or curious woman would ponder at his glass, pointing to the vibrant and beautiful arrangements that he had created this morning, and muttering words unheard. Eventually each eventually moved on with a smile and a small nod. Boredom grew in his stomach, his fingers tapping on the clean wood in front of him. Tuesdays were his least favorite day, nothing good ever happened on a Tuesday.
“Hey, are you wanting me to run to the bank or-” Eddie looked up, meeting the gaze of his employee who held babies breath on one hand. His apron was covered in dirt and water, undoubtedly hard at work in the back room.
“No, I’ll go.” The owner replied, offering a sincere smile. “I know you’re working on the Truman wedding.”
Mike rolled his eyes, “That lady has stopped by three times in the last week, I don’t know how you deal with bridezillas like that.” He exclaimed, making Eddie smirk knowingly. “I mean it’s like she has to oversee every little thing, the lady will not shut up!”
“Welcome to the industry.” This made his friend scoff, “Bridezillas and husbands in the dog house are our number one customers.”
“Still.” Mike sighed, looking down at the now crushed stems in his right fist. “She is pain in my ass.”
Eddie laughed, agreeing wholeheartedly. He of all people knew what it was like to be pushed around by a bride or planner or whatever big event there was to do that week. It written in the job description, burned into the shop itself. After helping with a few arrangements in attempts to keep Mike on schedule he left the safety of his business and trudge through the streets with the rest of New York.
The umbrella was kept close to him, sheliding him from the wetness around him. Keeping to himself he moved along with the flow of people, his eyes casted downward and his dress shoes kicking up puddles that had accumulated in the low spots on the sidewalk. People whispered and spoke but he refused to engage, not wanting to be pulled into the latest bullshit. His mind wandered to the new store that had opened across the street from his, more importantly to the owner who had waved at him the day before, his feather like hair and chestnut eyes. The man was attractive, no doubt but it was the warm, inviting smile that had made his heart flutter.
Love had never a staple in Eddie's life. Once, long before coming to New York, back in his one sided hometown there had been a boy with thick rimmed glasses and buck teeth whose smile could melt mountains. The both of them were labeled by the prejudice of their school, branded by the parents who abused and neglected them. They had found souliste in one another, seeking refugee in the others soft words of encouragement and gentle, wandering touches. It was an unspoken bond, a glue that kept them bound and Eddie had believed that they would last forever. They didn’t, and on one especially cold September night during their senior year he had kissed those soft lips for the last time. He had stood there on the asphalt, tears streaming down his face as he watched taillights fade in the distance. He was seventeen then and a year and half later, he himself ditched his mother and moved as far away as he could manage ending up at NYU.
A splash of water soaked the hem of his pleated khakis, making him jump in surprise. He grumbled out a curse, catching a glimpse of the car that had carelessly ran through the puddle. A shiver ran through him and the hairs on his legs became awkwardly tamed. “Tuesdays man.” He muttered to no one, “Fucking Tuesdays, shit always happens on Tuesdays.” There was a one eyed woman who looked at him making his mouth snap shut abruptly. The moment the light changed he crossed the sidewalk as quick as he could, rushing to the door of his bank and sighing once he was inside.
People were in line, shuffling forward when the teller called them. Eddie collapsed his umbrella, shaking it to rid it of the excess water. A few people passed him during, forcing him to be the tenth person standing waiting. It was quiet, whispering voices echoing against the marble walls and clicks of the computer following shortly. Eddie rolled on the balls of his feet, looking at his watch with little patience. He hadn’t see them, maybe no one did but one moment Eddie was watching the lady at the counter, the next he was cowering as gunshots rang out.
“Get down! Everyone on the floor!” The masked man yelled loudly, entering with two others, all armed. “No heros, do you understand? Your money is insured, don’t get yourselves killed!” People melted, obeying the orders and submissive dropping to the floor. Two of the men circled the civilians as the man the man who had spoken ran to the teller. Every now and then Eddie would glance upward to the robbers, eyeing the shotguns they held. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his muscles clenching with fear. Death had never frightened him, but pain sure as hell did and one shot with those 12 gauges would sure fucking hurt.
There was a scream from across the room, one of the men standing over a rather frail woman who clutched her knees. She was crying loudly and apparently that wasn’t acceptable by the large, intimating man who kicked at her thigh and shouted profanity at her hair. Eddie’s eyebrows creased along his forehead, a spark of anger moving under his skin. The woman buried her face in her hands in attempt to muccler her sobs but that wasn’t enough to ease the wrath of the asshole beside her who punted at her again. This time it would with such force that the girl toppled to her side.
The robber lifted his foot again and before he could even process another though Eddie was on his feet. “Hey! Leave her the fuck alone!” He shouted in a voice that wasn’t his own, moving with feet that were no longer his. “What kind of a man picks on a defenseless-” The rest of his insult-or whatever it had been-never came as he was hit from behind and forced back to his knees.
His head was throbbing, his vision blurring for a second before a tall man came into view before him. Vomit burned his throat but Eddie was able to push it down with a thick gulp, the realization of his mistake hitting him full force. “S-She is just scared.” He said in a flat tone, “We all are, stop hurting her.”
“What a hero.” The mask spoke down to him, spitting the terminology like venom. “Do you know what we do to heros in our line of work?”
Eddie opened his mouth but it was stopped when the butt of the shotgun came in contact with his face. A splitting pain shot through him, making him whimper. Blood pooled from somewhere on his head, trickling down his skin, scorching him along the way. He coughed, spat the copper on his tongue and cursed which seemed to be the only noise in the entire place. Looking up he stared into the eyes of the double barrel, greeting it like an old friend.
All in all, Eddie Kaspbrak had a good life. He had escaped the clutches of his overbearing mother, overcome his fake sickness, graduated with honors and even created a thriving flower shop in the big apple. Everything in his world would survive after his demise, the store would go to Mike, his coin collection and other belongings sold to cover his debt. It would be like he had never existed, having no family to claim him and little friends to mourn him. If anyone was going to perish in this situation, he was glad it was him.
“It’s people like you that make my job hard.”
“It’s people like you that are going to rot in hell.” Eddie shot right back, loving the way the words tasted. “You’ll regret this. Not today, not tomorrow but someday and when the reaper comes it’ll be wearing my face.”
“You and every other mark on my skin.” The man spat, lining the sight. “Never be a hero, they all end the same.”
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” The man-who previously been harassing the teller-yelled, grabbing the barrel and removing it from Eddie’s face. “Are you fucking stupid? That’s Eddie Kaspbrak! Do you want to die?” There was a moment of realization changing the tension in the air. One moment two robbers loomed over him, the next there was nothing but a couple of cowards.
“Shit! I didn’t know-he looks different!” The first man yelled, taking a cautious step back from where Eddie sat, wide eyed. “It’s been years since that picture was taken, I didn’t-he looks so dif-FUCK!” The third robber joined them, arguing about the mistake and claiming that they were all going to pay for his mistake. Eddie couldn’t help but watch, completely confused by the interaction. One moment he had made peace with death, even welcoming it and now he was being reasoned with the same man who had the trigger.
“We are so sorry Mr. Kaspbrak!” One of them exclaimed, his words whiney and loud. “Greg is new, he didn’t realize it was you! Please don’t tell Mr. Tozier, please he will have our heads if he knew that we hurt you! We know you’re off limits, and we respect that-we really do-and-and-we-”
That name.
He couldn’t mean-“Tozier? Do you mean Richie Tozier?” Eddie asked, begging for anything other than the truth. Richie Tozer, the boy who he had fallen for between kisses and dirty jokes. Richie Tozier, the boy who couldn’t walk in a straight line to save his life. Richie Tozier, his first kiss, first boyfriend, first lover, first everything. It couldn’t be, that boy was gone for nearly nine years now.
They nodded. “Yeah, Richie. He-he’s gonna kill us. Please, please we are so sorry!”
It was a scramble after that. Eddie couldn’t hear a word they said, could no longer feel the pain on his face or the throbbing in his head. All he could do was sit there dumbfounded, watching the men ran out of the bank empty handed. Time seemed to pass by him as the police arrived and he was led to the ambulance. At the hospital he received six stitches and the third degree. Much to the officers disgust, he didn’t know a damn thing and was discharged just after seven o’clock.
It was all a bad dream. Yup, that was what Eddie had decided during the cab ride back to his shop. This was just some dream his mind had created to torture him. Any minute now Mike would wake him up from his nap at the register and complain about the Truman order. Simple, Richie Tozier was just some emory that his brain dug up during slumber to remind him that he really need to start taking dating seriously. None of this was real. It just couldn’t be.
He paid the driver, thanking him for the silence. The store was past closed by now, and he had to rummage through his pockets to find his keys. His loft was above the shop and he couldn’t be more grateful for that little fact. The moment the door was open, he noticed his employee sitting at the counter, biting his nails.
“Oh my god.” Mike breathed, rushing over. “Eddie, are you okay? I saw what happened on the news and when you didn’t answer my calls I thought-”
“I’m okay.” He assured, smiling at the kind gesture. “Sorry, I left my phone on the charger. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare me? I was worried!” Mike laughed hollowingly, “Look at you, you’re hurt! What in the hell happened?”
“It’s a long, exhausting story.” Eddie sighed, rubbing his temples and then winching at the pain that followed. He moved into his shop, closing the door behind him. “Short version, there was a bank robbery and one of those dumbasses busted my face open.”
“Okay?” Mike muttered, “And long version?”
The ache that had been suppressed by the sweet drugs the nurses had given him was now returning, making Eddie groan in annoyance. “Have I ever told you about Richie Tozier?” He asked, not surprisingly Mike shook his head.“Right, well he was a kid I knew back in Derry. He ran away from home when he was seventeen and I haven't seen or heard of him since.”
“And what does he have to do with-” Mike never finished as the bell to the door sang, breaking the conversation completely. Even though the closed sign was clearly on display in walked in a tall, skinny man in a pressed suit. The curls on top of his head hung a little low, looking as if they were in need of a trim. He had a sharp jaw and strong features but what caught Eddie’s eye was his determined and eere smile that seemed to be directed at him. Fuck, this wasn’t good.
“I’m sorry but we are closed.” Mike said, ushering the man away with his hands. “We open tomorrow at seven am.”
“I’m not here for any flowers.” The man assured, brushing the information aside. “I’m looking for Eddie Kaspbrak, I’ve been sent on behalf of my employer.”
“Look, it’s like he said, we are closed.” Eddie nipped, being a little too harsh but not caring due to the pain that seemed to creep up on him. “Any business your employer has regarding me or my shop can wait till tomorrow after seven.”
“I’m positive that is not going to be necessary.” The man smiled, his lips curling over his too white teeth. “You are going to want to hear what I have to say.”
“Is that so?” Eddie challenged, “And who exactly is your employer? The Queen of England? Because unless it’s her it can wait until-”
“I’ve been sent on behalf of one Richard Tozier.” He spoke softly, silencing Eddie’s angry words. “I assume there are some questions you want answered and I’m here to take you to him.”
With this Eddie turned his head and vomited into the trash can below.