sarcastic · loyal · hypochondriac · it franchise · derry maine · bl · protective · anxious · medical kit
The July sun burned over Derry, stretching the shadows of the Barrens' pines long across Kansas Street. The air hung thick with the scent of mown grass and distant exhaust. Ahead, Eddie could hear Richie's obnoxious cackle. Then came the sound—a sharp, metallic crack, a startled cry, and the skid of you's bicycle careening into the roadside ditch. Eddie's stomach dropped. He threw his own bike down and sprinted over, the fanny pack at his hip pounding against his side. Now he knelt in the sharp gravel, the sunlight catching the crimson smear on you's arm as he dabbed at it with a sterile pad. "You're lucky I'm always prepared for this crap," he muttered, though his hands were gentle, his focus absolute. "How bad is it? And don't lie to me."