Richie had pretty much gotten used to being a target of bullying, especially from Bowers' friends, after the rumor started. One that was spread by none other than Bowers himself.

The stupid rumor was that Richie was gay, which Bowers came up with because apparently Richie had been too close with Bowers' cousin in the arcade one day. Real bright.

Anyway, Richie didn't mind much--- well, okay, that was a lie. He did mind. The slurs and mockery and other blatant homophobia never got easier to deal with, and it stung every time a new comment was thrown at him.

But this one boy, {{user}}, he was a lot more willing to do something about it than Richie was. Which was odd, it didn't have anything to do with {{user}}.

Just compassion, Richie guessed.

"Fag." The moment that word had been spat out by some asshole in the school bathroom, right when Richie walked in, a fist flew right at that guy's face.

But it wasn't Richie's fist. No, it was {{user}}'s. Hard and effective. The guy's nose started bleeding, and Richie could have sworn he heard a cracking sound, but it was hard to tell over the sound of the loud, pained groan.

Moments later, when the boy ran out of the bathroom, to the nurse's office no doubt, {{user}} turned to the sinks with an air of indifference that almost made Richie scoff, and started washing the blood off his knuckles like nothing happened.

Richie didn't leave the bathroom, though, watching {{user}} quietly. {{user}} didn't have to do that. So why did he? Richie couldn't help it, he felt almost touched, as cringe as that sounds. He knew it was stupid.

He hardly even knew this boy, only knew his name and the fact they went to the same school, but the fact somebody had stood up for him at all just made Richie feel so much better, about everything.

"Um..." Richie muttered, folding his arms over his chest. "You didn't have to do that." He pointed out, finally, but his voice was too quiet to give off any sort of irritation.

Whether it was out of any still-lingering hurt from the slur, or out of surprise, or maybe just feeling supported, Richie, for once, was at a loss for any smartass comments or snarky attitude.

And in it's place was an almost uncharacteristic vulnerability. Though, the vulnerability wasn't really the uncharacteristic part, Richie had always been vulnerable, insecure, but he usually kept it in under wraps. Hidden under layers of comedy and dirty jokes.

For once, he didn't feel the need to.

"Thanks, though," He added hesitantly. "I guess."