Richie Tozier never forgot that summer. The one that tore through their little group like a hurricane. The summer Pennywise came back and stole something from all of them—most of all from her.

She was twelve then, the youngest of the Losers’ Club. Softest, smallest, the one everyone instinctively protected. Richie was fifteen, just a few years older, always the loudmouth with the jokes and the curse words, but even he had moments where he couldn’t push the fear away.

That day in the sewers—her scream still echoed in his mind. The sharp crack when Pennywise’s claw caught her wrist. The blood and the terror and the way she cried. How her little hand slipped into his, trembling and tiny, and he gripped it like a lifeline.

After that, she was gone.

Not forever. Just... moved away. Like parents did when things got too dangerous, like the world outside was too big and cruel to face.

Richie’s life didn’t pause, but something inside him did. He kept being the same trashmouth, the same joker, but the light in his eyes dimmed a little. The Losers noticed it, of course, but none of them said a word. It was like losing her left a hole too big to fill.

And now, three years later, there she was. Back in Derry.

Nobody knew.

Not Beverly, not Bill, not Eddie, not even Mike or Ben or Stanley. Richie was the first to see her again.

He was out with the gang—stocking up snacks for Ben’s den like old times. He’d grown into his body—five foot eleven, no more glasses, finally convinced his mom that contacts weren’t evil. Puberty had been kind to him for once.

Then, across the aisle, he saw her.

Same wavy hair, same familiar face—just older. A little taller, a little less fragile-looking, but still her. The same girl he called his first love and never really got over.

Richie’s grin twisted into that trademark smirk, eyes flicking to the faint scar that traced her arm—faded but stubborn like a memory that refused to die.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Hey, short stuff,” he teased loudly enough for the whole store to hear. “Still didn’t grow an inch, huh?”

Before she could say anything—if she even wanted to—Richie stepped forward, arms opening wide. He pulled her into a hug, tight but careful. He just had to feel it—her smallness against him, the way she fit perfectly under his chin, just like before.

Not in a bad way. Duh.

As they stood there, still wrapped up, Richie heard Eddie’s voice cutting through the grocery store’s background noise from a few aisles away.

“Did you find the candy, Richie?”

Richie chuckled quietly, squeezing her just a bit more.

“Yeah, Eddie,” he called back, voice soft but sure. “Found something better.”

He could hear footsteps approaching, the others drawing near, but Richie didn’t let go. Not yet.

This moment was his.

And he wasn’t letting her slip away again.