Chapter Text
The paramedics rushed Max Jägerman’s still body into the ER, Richie being guided into an adjacent room to wait. He took out his phone to play his favourite gacha game, tapping his foot in a hurried manner, as though it would bring him news about his bully faster. He knew he shouldn't press the paramedics on Max's situation, as much as he wanted to.
Why did he care? Why was he even here?
Because no one deserves to die alone in the basem*nt of a, supposedly, haunted house.
Richie’s head twitched violently to the side as he thought about how almost everyone had left Max all alone. Sure, it was THE Max Jägerman, but he was still human. Leaving Max all on his own like that seemed no better than the tall bully taking Ruth’s headgear and mocking her with it, almost breaking it with his huge head. No better than Max pushing Richie into the lockers and threatening him to give Max his lunch, his homemade, mediocre, onigiri. No better than Max punching Pete in his stomach in Pasqualli's parking lot. What could be worse than leaving someone to die while being the reason that person was there in the first place?
Richie’s phone made an almost magical, whooshing sound, as a notification popped up on his screen.
Ruthless Fruit:
rich
hows jägerman?
Subaru_AA:
Idk yet
You make it home Ru?
Ruthless Fruit:
i made it yeah
took a bit of walkinf
walking*
Richie stared at the three dots followed by Ruthless Fruit above his keyboard, violently tapping his leg up and down. He shot up an anxious look at the nurse who had walked into the room and up to Richie, a familiar voice ringing in his ears.
“Richie is that you??”
“O-oh Becky! Didn’t know you were on the graveyard shift”
Richie gave her an awkward combination of a laugh and smile, her hands in her scrub pockets, she gave a sweet smile back as she sat down next to him.
“Are you here with that boy who got brought in 20 minutes ago?”
“Oh M-Max?” his name spilled out with a tinge of guilt. “Yeah he was drunk and f-fell, thankfully I was around and c-called you guys.” his mouth grew bitter with lies. He didn’t need Becky asking him too many questions, Richie needed to know if Max was ok.
“Oh that’s Max Jägerman? I don’t keep up much with the Nighthawks. All I need to know is that Clivesdale sucks.”
”Yeah, f*ck Clivesdale.” Richie spat out almost automatically.
An awkward air lingered around as Becky studied Richie’s face with concern. A sudden head jerk lit an idea in Richie’s head.
“Becky!” he suddenly turned towards the nurse, eyes wide open. “Please don’t call Max’s dad! I know- know that he’s probably his emergency contact, but Max is 18 right? His dad doesn’t need to know right?” it all came spilling out of his mouth like the rapids that uncle Paul took him rafting in as a kid.
“Rich- Richie calm down” she put a comforting hand on his back, gently rubbing it up and down. “Do you want me to call Paul instead? I need to get back to work soon.”
“Y-yes please. Thank you Becky.”
“No worries Richie, I’m always here for you guys.”
Another urgent case rushed into the ER. Becky looked over, pulling Richie into a soft hug, giving him a gentle smile.
“I have to go now Rich, I’ll make sure they don’t call Max’s dad.”
“Thank you Becky” Richie gave her an honest smile.
The sweat drenched boy held his head in between his legs, smoothing his hair out in a comforting manner, too many emotions stirring in him to even consider being tired.
“Richie?” a gentle voice tinted with concern spoke, as Richie felt another warm presence in the seat next to him. He looked up to see his favourite (and only) uncle, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline in concern. Richie had an aunt from his father’s side, but as the name suggests, the Lipschitz weren’t a very warm nor welcoming family.
“Paul” the boy’s voice broke, his eyes focusing on the homey outfit his business-casual uncle was wearing. Black sweatpants. Light green Hoodie. Gray trainers. Messy hair.
“Are you ok?” Paul placed a comforting hand on the sweaty boy’s shoulder.
Richie stared at his uncle for a moment, eyes darting from facial feature to facial feature, unsure what to focus on, as tears swelled in his eyes, a frowning grimace forming on Richie’s face.
“I almost got him killed Paul!”
“What?” Paul cried out in the calmest voice he could muster.
“We were going to prank him as revenge because he has been bullying Ruth and Pete and I since like middle school but for some reason Gracie was there and she convinced us to do it in the old sh*tty Waylon Hall house except Max was piss drunk and thought Ruth really was a skeleton and so he fell through the stairs and almost die-”
“Richie! Richie” Paul massaged Richie’s shoulder, handing his nephew a tissue to wipe his tears and snotty nose with. “Remember the breathing exercises, do you need your inhaler?” Richie shook his head as he started to breathed in, held, and let out slowly.
After a moment Paul spoke again.
“Let’s focus on the present right now, do you know Max’s situation?” Paul knew about the bullying, but seeing his nephew panicking, he put aside his feelings and approached the situation with an objective perspective.
Richie continued his breathing, knowing his uncle wasn’t expecting an immediate answer.
“No. Becky didn’t know. No doctor has come for me. I don’t think they even know I’m here-” Richie caught himself.
“Alright” Paul spoke in a calm voice, “I’ll go look for Max’s doctor, do you want your headphones?”
Richie nodded, his uncle then digging his bag for his noise cancelling headphones, a gift for Richie’s 16th birthday from Tim and Tom. His uncle stood up, off to find out Max’s status, Richie sunk into the wooden, cushioned, waiting room chair and put his headphones on. He opened his phone, ignoring Ruth’s messages, beginning his favourite episode of SAO.
