Alpha!Richie - Tumblr Posts

a/b/o Mpreg Bichie headcanon

So, I have this a/b/o au headcanon  idea of like when the Losers are called back to Derry by Mike Omega!Bill shows up pregnant without an alpha on his arm and all the Losers are like super protective of him. Like, they want him to stay far away from Derry, but they know they need him to help stop It, so it turns more into them just trying to keep him from doing anything stupid and safe. Que Alpha!Richie, who always kind if had a thing for Bill, being like extra protective and having mini heart attacks every time Bill so much as looks at the sewer. Richie being completely surprised when he finds out that Bill’s always kind of had a thing for him too,and is totally down for trying to make this work. 

ooooor

Teenage Omega!Bill learning he’s pregnant and Alpha!Richie being the most supportive piece of shit ever

.... really I just like a/b/o bichie with omega!Bill and alpha!Richie and babies

EXTRA: Richie referring to Bill as Mom, Momma, and Big Momma and Bill lowkey loving it, but flicking him off anyway (except for the Big Momma one because you shouldn’t ever refer to a pregnant omega as big even if their nickname is Big Bill so yes Richie you did deserve the hard punch in the arm).

Nothing But Duct Tape and Hope

Relationship: Bichie (Bill x Richie)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bill, Alpha Richie, Mpreg Bill

Summary: It takes three chance meetings, and the presence of a beat up rusted-red Ford for Richie to realize who the omega is.

This is part 1. Part 2 can be found here

Read on AO3

The first time Richie sees the omega he doesn’t think much about him. He’s out with some of his buddies, minding his own business when a familiar scent passes by. It triggers odd images of rickety old bikes, cliffs overlooking a sparkling water hole, and a pair of the most intensive blue eyes he’s ever seen. He turns trying to catch a look at who producing the scent by all he sees is tail end of a tall figure in jeans, and a grey hoodie disappearing behind the corner.

The next time he sees the omega he still doesn’t think much about him. He’s out buying himself a sandwich for dinner on his way home from work. They’d gotten several boxes of new records in today that he had to put away, and he finds himself too tired to bother making himself a meal. It’s the same grey hoodie that catches his eyes this time. A figure sitting outside the deli, their head bent low as they scribble away at a well-used notebook. Their hair is a lovely shade of red and long enough to hide their face from his view. The scent hits him next, but it’s off, different. He briefly wonders what a pregnant omega is doing by themselves sitting in a sidewalk when his order gets called, and for the time forgets all about it.

The third time he sees the omega is when it all finally comes back. He’s walking back to his car when he hears the loud ding as someone’s keys hit the pavement followed by someone cursing loudly. He turns to find the same grey hoodie wearing omega clutching to the side of a beat of red ford pickup as they go to pick up their keys.

And then the memories come flooding back.

He’s sixteen again. His glasses are too large for his face, his socks don’t match, and his jeans are honestly more holes than fabric at this point. Next to him Eddie stares in horror at the rusted-up machine in front of them. On the other side Stan stands looking very unimpressed. Bill is the only one who looks happy. He’s smiling like a loon, gesturing to the beat up old truck like it’s the greatest thing in the entire world.

“Is it safe,” Eddie asks. “I feel like just being around that thing will give me tetanus.” Bill doesn’t let this bother him, he shakes his head and keeps smiling.

“It’s s-ssafe E-eddie. I promise. I even had a mechanic l-look it over before I drove it home. E-everything works.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s safe,” Eddie mutters.

“Who’d you get to look at it? Derry mechanics, or Larry’s auto,” Stan asks. Bill pats the hood, bits of rust fall from the underbelly.

“Larry’s auto.”

Bill’s answer doesn’t seem to make Stan happy. Richie doesn’t blame him. The truck literally looks like it’s on its last wheel… if that.

“I thought for certain you’d go for something a little more silver,” he finally pipes in. Bill laughs and gestures for them to follow him to the back. They do, but all three continue to keep their distance. It hits him the second he sees the only new and good-looking thing on the truck as to how much this vehicle means to Bill. On the back, surrounded by rust is a brand-new license’s plate with the words ‘SILVER2’ written in blocky letters. Bill looks so proud of this that Richie can’t even bring himself to comment on how the truck isn’t even silver, can’t bring himself to make side remarks when it takes a few tries for Bill to get the driver side door open, and can’t bring himself to say no when Bill offers to give all three a ride. 

Somehow all four boys manage to squeeze themselves into the bench seat of the old Ford. It’s a tight squeeze that’s made even more awkward by the fact the trucks a manual, and Bill has to be able to access the clutch as he drives. The truck still smells like whoever Bill’s dad bought the truck from, and lemon cleaning spray that instead of masking the scent seems to just makes things worse.

But none of that bothers him. Not the fact that he’s uncomfortable pressed against Eddie and Bill. Not that the Ford smells like old man and lemons. Not the fact that he’s pretty certain the truck is held together by nothing but hope and duct tape.

No.

 All he cares about is the look Bill gets when he turns the key and SILVER2 somehow roars to life with only a few loud clangs. He decides that as long as this truck keeps Bill smiling like that than it’s the best damn truck he’s ever had the privilege of sitting in.

He comes back to reality feeling like somebody has punched him right in the face. Memory after forgotten memory filling his brain. Pleasant memories of summer filled nights with seven losers laid out in the bed of the old Ford laughing together until the early hour of the morning. Sad memories of saying goodbye, watching the rusted red Ford piled high with junk drive off in the direction opposite of his own.

He’d forgotten. They’d promised to stay in touch. They’d promised to always be friends. Somehow, he’d forgotten them, and it took a rusted red truck to get him to remember.

He walks over to the omega, who’s now fiddling with his key ring to get the key he needs to unlock the vehicle. He thinks for a second that the person before him may not be who he thinks it is, but then a familiar pair of blue eyes peek up seeming to sense someone is watching them. Brown meets blue and Richie swears the whole world stops spinning for a second.

Bill seems lost for a few seconds as he stares Richie. His face blank as he stares uncertainly as some unknown alpha steps into his space, but then Richie can see the moment Bill seems to remember. His eyes light up, and he smiles just like on the day he showed off his “brand new” truck to the rest of the losers. He meets Richie halfway and the two embraces in the middle of the parking lot without a single care in the world.

Bill is still slightly taller and the small swell from his baby bump presses awkwardly into Richie’s stomach, but Richie decides then and there that this is the best hug he’s ever had. He thinks he could hug Bill forever, but a car honks at them to move so he sadly has to let go.

They move to go stand by the old Ford. It’s the same as Richie remember it. Seats made mostly of duct tape, more rust than red, and the radio antenna dented slightly in the middle from the time he tried to slide across the hood.

He laughs at this and runs his hands along the hood of the vehicle.

“How in the hell have you managed to keep this thing running?” Bill laughs.

“The same as when we were younger. S-ssshear hope and duct tape.”

Man, did Richie miss that stutter.

The talk for over two hours. Richie tells Bill about his job at the local record store, the band he’s in, and the weird friends he’s made since leaving for college. Bill talks about graduating college, some of the things he’s written, and one wild story involving him having to seduce someone into getting some free stuff for his buddies (“like B-bev did for us”). He shares the story sounding like he’s surprised it actually worked, which just reminds Richie how cute Bill is. He learns that Bill is exactly six months pregnant. Bill never says anything about another Alpha in his life. Richie never asks. They agree to meet up again in a few days then they go their separate ways.

The next time Richie sees Bill it’s for their intentional meet up. They meet up at Richie’s favorite dinner. They talk mainly about the past, and all the fun times they’ve both started to remember. They even discuss the weirdness of forgetting everything. They never discuss the real cause of what could be behind the amnesia. Even though Richie dreamed of claws and red balloons the night before, and Bill’s stutter seems to be just a degree worse than the last time they met (he also swears it had been completely cured until a few days ago) neither seem up to being the first to bring up the forbidden topic.

He also learns the baby’s a boy. Still nothing about the father.

Throughout the next month they continue to meet. They talk about the past. They talk about the present. They talk about the things they love, the things they hate, and everything in between. The weather gets colder, the seasons change from Fall to Winter. Somehow Bill’s baby bump grows larger.

He learns on their seventh meet up about Bill’s relationship status. He makes an off comment about making Bill’s baby daddy jealous with how much time Bill’s been hanging out with him. Bill gives him a sad smile and shrugs. He explains there is no ‘baby daddy’ in his life.

“It’s just m-me and my truck.”

Richie’s almost annoyed with himself by how happy that makes him.

The fourteenth … or maybe it’s fifteenth time they meet isn’t planned. Richie’s out with his buddies again. Their walking down the sidewalk late on a cold winter night. Their all a bit drunk. It’s been a pretty fun evening so far.

But then he spots a familiar red truck parked near a street lamp. It’s sitting alone in an empty parking lot. He waves for his buddies to keep going and makes his way over to the beat up old Ford. Something about this entire situation feels off, and he’s determined to figure out what’s up. He looks over the truck first. The tarp Bill keeps tied over the bed of the truck is untied in one corner, but other than that there appears to be nothing wrong. There’s a large mound of blankets piled up in the bench of the truck, and when he knocks on the driver side window the lump shifts just slightly before Bill’s head appears from the mound. They blink owlishly at each for a few minutes before Bill seems to snap out of his surprise, and unlocks the passenger door for Richie to climb on in. The inside of the truck is just as cold as the outside air, but the blankets Bill offers him are nice and warm and the inside smells strongly of Bill so he can’t complain too much.

“Bill, why are you sleeping outside in your truck?” His own voice surprises him. It sounds a little too gravely. He feels oddly sober now too.

Bill fiddles with the edge if his blanket. He looks embarrassed. He shrugs.

“It’s like I told you R-richie… it’s just me and my truck.” He gestures for Bill to elaborate. Bill sighs and continues. “A few months ago,… when I found out I was p-p-pregnant… my boyfriend at the time was-sssn’t happy about it. He s-sss-said I should get rid of the baby. That he d-doesn’t want to b-be a father. I refused, so he kicked me out.” Bill pauses to sniffle and wipe at his eyes. Richie scoot closer. “My writing makes decent money b-but not enough for me to live on my o-own, so since getting kicked out I’ve just been driving around. I was honestly just passing through, but then you showed up and….” He shrugs and gestures to space around them. “Here we are….”

“Why didn’t you tell me.”

Bill shrugs again.

“I didn’t want to be a b-b-bother.”

“You’re never a bother Big Bill.” He pulls Bill close and hugs him tight. It’s a bit awkward with the space and Bill’s belly but they make it work.

“God Bill your fucking freezing. Why the hell don’t you at least have the heat on.”

“H-heat doesn’t work.”

He lets go of Bill to take the keys off the dash, and puts them in the ignition. The truck sputters a bit before finally roaring to life just as Richie remembered. Bill seems surprised when Richie messes with the radio and it comes to life too.

“The radio hasn’t worked in years.”

Richie just smirks and winks at him.

“Guess it just missed me.”

Bill snorts and rolls his eyes. Even in the dim light Richie can see the tear marks on his cheeks, but he’s smiling softly.

The heat doesn’t magically work, but Richie figures that’s a problem for another day. He convinces Bill to drive them out of the parking lot, and directs him towards the apartment he shares with his roommate.

“Are you sure your roommate won’t mind me spending the night.”

“Yes Bill, and even if he did I wouldn’t give a shit.”

He leads Bill up the stairway. Bill seems a bit uncertain, but Richie fills the silence with shitty jokes that gets Bill giggling. He apologies for the messy state of the apartment, Bill says he doesn’t mind, Richie make sure to keep a hand on Bill’s back as the fumble around in the dark to make sure he doesn’t trip over anything. He leads Bill into his room and shuts the door. He tugs Bill into his bed, and rubs the omega all over trying to breath warmth back into frozen limbs. Bill giggles and squirms when Richie ‘accidently’ rubs at his sides. He feels the baby kick against his palm. Bill flushes a bit. Richie stares at him amazed. They fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Another month passes. Richie can’t believe how time has flown. Bill is eighth months, and looks ready to pop. Currently he’s asleep on the couch, cuddled up close against Riche’s side. The grey hoodie is long gone, and now Bill is wearing a lovely blue sweater. There’s a notebook resting on his belly, and a pencil loosely held in his slack grip. Richie leans over to give him a kiss on the cheek, and takes the pencil and notebook away.

Things aren’t easy. The baby’s due date is coming up, and neither are as prepared as they want to be. Bill still seems upset about dragging Richie into his baby drama, but Richie continues to tell him that it’s all okay. It’s odd how much he doesn’t seem to mind that the baby isn’t his by blood. The idea of helping Bill raise a child pleases him in a way he doesn’t fully understand, but has come to embrace with open arms.

They still don’t talk about the dark parts of their pasts either. They don’t talk about the months Bill spent living alone in his truck, or the images of bright red balloons that seem to fill both their nightmares.

They’ll probably have to talk about it someday, but not yet.

No, for now Richie has more important things to focus on. He looks back down to the newspaper in his lap, and continues to read the ad for the house for sale off Fillmore Street. It’s a bit above their price range, but he figures is he takes a few extra shifts at the record store they just be able to pull that one off. He smiles and circles the ad with a bright red marker. Next to him Bill smiles pleased in his sleep.

Richie wouldn’t have things any other way.

Welcome to the Loser’s Club

Relationship: Bichie (Bill x Richie)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bill, Alpha Richie, Mpreg Bill, Birth (though not the graphic), fluff, flashbacks

Summary: Through a series of unfortunate events a family is brought back together just in time to welcome their newest member. 

This is part 2. Part 1 can be found here

Read it on AO3

He’s watching Bill paint the moment it happens. Typically, you’re not supposed to paint the walls in a rented home, but the older couple their renting the house from just couldn’t seem to say no to Bill. They’d loved the sketches Bill showed them up what he planned to do for the nursery (animals on the walls and a mix of day and night skies swirled together on the ceiling) to the point they’d even asked if he could paint a few pictures for them to put up in the own home. Bill had blushingly agreed.

The nursery wasn’t going to be ready in time for the baby though, and that wasn’t just because Richie refused to let Bill climb on things to paint the higher surfaces. By the time they’d finished the deal on the house (at a cheaper rent thanks to the old couple taking pity on them), and gotten their furniture and stuff moved in (Richie owed his buddies a lot of beers and thanks for that) Bill’s due date was just shy of three weeks away. So, here they were trying to get as much done as they could before their newest member joined the world.

Richie felt it was all worth it though. They had a yard now, space to spread out, and in all honesty Richie’s old apartment was no place to raise a baby. Plus, watching Bill paint the walls of the nursery was probably the happiest and most content he’d seen the other man since they’d met back up.

“Oh.”

He glances over at Bill watching as the other male pauses mid stroke to rub a hand along his swollen midsection. It completely blows Richie’s mind just how big Bill has gotten the past couple months. Not that he’d ever say that out loud to Bill. Just like he’d never saw how much Bill’s swollen breast turned him on too. No, those were things he was better off taking to the grave.

“Something wrong, Hot Stuff?

Bill snorts and gives him a little smile.

“No, just the baby moving a bit.”

He nods and watches Bill go back to painting. He’d been banned from helping paint the walls ever since he drew a dick on the wall that take several coats of paint to paint over.

He lets his mind drift again for a while before the loud clack of a paint brush hitting the ground snaps his attention back to Bill. Bill’s bent over now, both hands pressed to his belly as he clenches his eyes shut.

“Bill?”

“Oh.” Bill takes a shaky breath and opens his eyes. “I’m fine. Just a cramp R-richie. I think I’ve just been s-sssitting too l-long. Help m-me up, will ya?”

“Yea, yea.” He gets up quickly and takes a solid hold of Bill before helping him up as well. “You go stretch your legs Babe. I’ll clean up in here.”

Bill gives him a long look before surveying the room and nodding.

“I-if you’re sure?”

“Course I’m sure. Now go take a break. I’ve got this.” He kisses Bill on the cheek, and watches him waddle out of the room.

He picks up the fallen pain brush first, and scrubs away the splatter of paint off the floor. He manages to get the last bit of blue off the floor, before he hears Bill waddling back into the room.

“So um I d-don-don’t want you to p-p-panic, but my wa-waa-water just b-broke.”

Richie turns so fast he knocks the blue paint can over.

Shit.

---

Richie thinks Bill is far to calm for somebody in labor, and doesn’t have a ride to the hospital. Ever since Bill had shared his news Richie had been a mad dash of nerves running from one end of the house to the other. He’d helped Bill change into a fresh clean outfit, shoved him into as many coats as he could, and made sure to grab Bill’s bag before shuffling them out the door. It hits him then that neither of their cars are in the drive way. Bill’s truck was at the mechanics, and Richie had let one of his buddies borrow his own car for the day.

Well, damn.

He almost has a full-on melt down right there and then, but Bill takes one of hands and smiles.

“It’s okay Richie, we can take the b-bus.”

“What? No, Bill I’m not going… I can call us a taxi.”

“No, it’s fine R-r-richie. Taxi c-cost too much anyway. I d-don’t mind taking the bus. My wa-waaa-water just b-broke. We have time.”

Richie wants to argue, but Bill’s giving him one of those “we can do this smiles” and Richie can’t help but just follow along as Bill starts making his way to the bus stop.

___

The first bus they get on doesn’t go to any stops near the hospital, so they get off at a stop in the middle of the city to wait for another bus.

So, far Bill’s had three contractions that have left him completely breathless and clamping down so hard on Richie’s hand that he may have broken a few things, but he’s still smiling optimistically that even Richie’s starting to believe they can do this. The next bus will pick them up, they’ll get safely to the hospital, and everything will be fine. They can do this. He can do this.

A loud crash startles him, and both turn to look over in time to see a man bending down to pick up a crate of vegetables he’d dropped. Bill stands with a bit of difficulty and waddles over to the man to offer some help.

Because of course he does. Because he’s Bill. Richie huffs and follows.

“E-excuse me, do you need any help?”

The man grabs a runaway potato, before looking back at them with a smile.

“No, it’s okay I-“

Richie get a glance of charcoal brown eyes and the flashbacks start.

 “See now this is what I call a truck,” Richie says gesturing to the large white truck with the wooden back. Next to him Mike laughs and Bill looks slightly insulted.

   “Are you saying S-SILVER2 isn’t a r-r-real truck?”

   “Bill, SILVER2 is like 75 percent duct tape. This though-“he gestures to the white truck again. “This thing is all truck.”

   Mike laughs again, and wraps an arm around Bill’s shoulders.

   “I like your truck Bill.”

   “Thanks M-mike. Glad to know s-ssssomebodies on my side.”

  He shakes his head as the flashback fades and looks to see Mike and Bill embracing each other. Mike is strong looking, stronger than Richie remembers him being. His skin has become worn with age and long days of working outside in the sun. He cradles Bill against himself like one would a newborn kitten though His smile just so wide and loving, and it’s all just so Mike that Richie feel like he wants to cry.

Instead he throws himself into the hug. Tightening his grips around both males, and it’s somewhat awkward with Bill’s belly but they make it work. People around them are stopping to stare at the three questionably, but none of them seem to mind.

The moments ruined though when Bill suddenly clenches up and lets out a loud groan. Mike steps back like he’s afraid he hurt Bill, but moves forward again as Bill clamps a hand on them both for support. Mike looks at Richie questionably.

Richie gives him what he hopes is a smile.

“Oh yea, uh Bill’s in labor.”

---

Mike, just like Bill, drives the same truck he did when they were teenagers. The sides are dented up from being out on the farm, some of the wood panels of the bed need to be replaced, and the inside smells more like dirt than rowdy boys and one flowery tomboy but the truck is just as perfect as Richie remembers. Plus, it’s got heat which is already a step up above SILVER2.

He feels a bit guilty about interrupting Mike as he works, but Mike didn’t seem to have any regrets about leaving the veggies on the ground and not making his delivery.

“This is more important,” he’s said while hustling Bill and Richie over to his truck, and helping them both get in before taking the driver seat and peeling off as fast as he can into the traffic filled streets.

So, now here they were in Mike’s old farm truck driving to the hospital. He catches up with Mike as they drive. He learns that Mike has a farm of his own just outside the city, and sells his vegetables to the local business. Richie tells him about the record store, and him and Bill buying a house together. Next to him, on the window side, Bill is mainly quiet except for a few soft groans. The contractions seem to be coming quicker now, and Richie wishes more than anything to be more than something for Bill to grip onto as his body clenches with pain.

Richie has just about let himself relax when shit hits the fan again.

Because of course it does.

There almost halfway to the hospital when a strong force slams into the back of Mike’s truck from the side. Mike slams on the breaks as his truck spins from the force. Richie reacts without thought, and pulls Bill against him making sure the omega doesn’t slam his head against the window.

Bill’s the first one to move once the truck stops spinning. He’s shaking like a leaf (or maybe that’s Richie), and he lets out the most miserable noise Richie’s ever heard him make.

“R-r-richie.”  Oh not good. Richie knows that tone of voice to well.

He has enough time to reach over and shove the door open, and hold tight to Bill as he helps him lean out the car before Bills gaging and vomiting all over the pavement. He can hear Mike opening his own door, can feel the truck shake a bit as the other male gets out, but he keeps his focus on Bill. He rubs at the omega’s back in what he hopes is comfort, and keeps a firm grip every time Bill lurches forward.

It's not pretty, but other than the vomiting and shaking Bill seems uninjured and Richie’s unbelievably thankful for that.

It seems to take forever before Bill finished and turns to throw himself into Richie’s arms. He’s openly crying now. Trembling as he clenches tightly to the front of Richie’s coat, and presses his face into Richie’s hood. He’s probably getting vomit and snot on Richie’s coat, but Richie doesn’t care. He just shushes him and presses kisses to the side of his head. Every time a contraction seems to wrack through Bill’s body he murmurs how proud he is of Bill, and reminds him that everything is going to be okay.

“Are you two okay?”

Richie looks up to see a man peering in at them from the passenger door. Another familiar pair of eyes meet his, and though the man’s body is much firmer than Richie remembers he’d know that face anyway.

 “Are you sure this is safe?”

   Richie looks back at Ben as the other male climbs up in the bed of SILVER2 after him.

   “Ben, when is anything we do safe.”

  Bill, who’s quieted down to sniffles and low groans of pain, lifts his head and wipes at his face with his sleeve before turning to Ben.

“B-b-ben?”

Ben gives them a large smile and hold his hand out towards Bill.

“Yea, it’s me. Are you two okay? Do you need help getting out?”

Bill nods and reaches to take Ben’s hand. Together Ben and Richie manage to help get Bill out of the truck. Bill stumbles a bit as he avoids his own pile of vomit, but another pair of strong arms come out to help support his weight before he can fall.

The new man looks a bit disgusted to be standing so close to a pile of vomit, but he keeps a solid hold of Bill. Even when the omega looks up at him with his still tear stained cheeks, and doesn’t even object when the omega gasps and tugs him into a tight hug. He’s defiantly uncomfortable about the uncleanness of Bill, but he hugs the omega back.

Richie waves Ben away and jumps out of the truck with ease, while giving the new comer a giant smile.

 “Bill, what the fuck you can’t just throw the stuff in there.”

   Bill jumps a bit from surprise and turns to look at Stan confused. There’s a candy bar sticking out of his mouth, and Richie can’t help but snigger at how goofy he looks. Bill wipes his hands on his jeans, and takes the candy out of his mouth. This seems to bother Stan a bit as well.

   “Wh-wh-what do you mean?”

   Stan gestures to the bunch of junk Bill just threw into the back of the pickup truck.

   “You can’t just throw it in there like that. You have to secure it or it’s just going to fly out.” Bill seems to give the junk a long look before shrugging and one handedly slamming the tail gate shut.

   “I-it will be fine Stan. W-we’re not going t-too far.” He gives Stan an encouraging smile before making his way to the driver seat.  

   “Yea Staney, everything will be fine,” Richie says while giving Stan a swift pat on the back. Stan swats him away. He looks like he wants to climb in the back and secure everything himself, but he huffs instead and makes his way to the passenger side of the vehicle.

  “Hey Stan. Nice haircut.”

Stan glares up at him. His hair is cut much shorter that Richie remember, the curls tight against his head.

“Still looks better than yours Richie.”

“Your just jealous you don’t have such flawless locks as mine-”

“So, the trucks not going anywhere,” Mike interrupts as he comes over and stands next to Stan. “The trucks not too badly damaged, but the other driver hit one of my back tires and screwed the alignment up. Popped the tire too, and I don’t spare right now to change it out. On the bright side nobody appears to be hurt, but Bev went to call an ambulance when I told her about Bill being in labor.”

“Bev?”

Mike nods and gives them a smile as he gestures to red-haired vixen running towards him.

 Richie laughs as he glances over at Beverley who’s laughing along beside him. Her whipping around her like crazy as they fly down the road.

   “You dare me to do it,” she asks looking back at Bowers’s beat up car as it follows behind them. Bowers and his gang had been chasing them for at least a good twenty minutes now.

   “Do it,” he says. Bev laughs and slides her way to the tail gate of SILVER2, she leans her weight against the rusted metal as she sits up on her knees, and lifts up her shirt flashing Bowers and his petty little gang.

   This seems to take Bowers by surprise because the small car swerves right into a stop sign. She lets her shirt drop down, and flops back down next to him. They laugh harder, imagining what Bowers’s face must have looked like as the old Ford leaves the tiny hunk of junk in the dust.

  Bev comes to a stop in front of them smiling.

“Hey, you guys okay?”

Richie nods and goes over to give her a hug. She smells like flowers and cigarettes, and squeezes him so hard that his back pops. She gives him a reassuring smile when she notices him looking at the bruise poorly hidden by make up on her cheek. He makes a mental note to ask her about it later, as she pulls away to look at Bill who’s still leaning against Stan. He’s looking at her with wide-eyes like he’s unsure of she’s really there.

“You okay Bill?”

Bill blinks at her and nods before groaning and curling in himself. She walks over to rub a hand along his back.

“Don’t worry Big Bill, there’s ambulance on the way.”

He groans at this and shakes his head no. He opens his mouth to speak, but ends up whimpering instead and turning pleading eyes towards Richie.

Richie curses. Their running out of time.

“I don’t think Bill has time to wait for an ambulance. Do any of you guys have a car we can take?” The three new comers glance at each uncertainly before shaking their heads no.

Great.

“I could give you guys a ride.”

The six turn to see a shorter male walking towards him. He’s wearing a white suit that looks a bit ridiculous on his short frame.

 “I didn’t even know you knew how to get dirty, Eddie.” Eddie flips him off, as passes Bill the wrench. Bill mumbles a quiet thank you, and leans down to work on whatever it is he’s attempting to fix in the old truck.

   Eddie still swears that he hates the old truck, but all the Losers know that’s a big fat lie. Whenever Bill has to do work on SILVER2, Eddies always next to him passing him tools and holding the flashlight as Bill works. By the time Bill drops the hood shut their both usually covered in black grease, and bits of rust.

   Richie reaches over to swipe some grease off the engine and smears it against Eddie’s arm. Eddie swats at him.

   “What the hell Richie! Don’t you have better things to than annoy?”

   “Now Eds, I think we both know the answer to that.”

   “Don’t call me Eds!”

  “Nice suit Eds.”

“Beep Beep Richie.”

“Eddie?” Bill’s eyes are watery as he pulls away from Stan and shakily makes his way to pull the shorter male into a hug. Eddie gives him a sad smile and hugs him back.

“Hey Big Bill. You’re not looking so good buddy.”

“It has b-b-been the l-longest d-da-day.” Eddie chuckles softly and rubs his back as he looks at the other losers around them.

“Looks like it.”

“You can g-g-give us a r-r-ride?”

“Yea.”

Eddie pulls away to an expensive looking sparkly-white limo.

“I own my own limo business now. Cool, huh?”

Bill just nods, and looks at Eddie like he’s the greatest thing Bill has ever laid his eyes on. Richie would have probably felt a little jealous if he didn’t feel the exact same way.

He makes sure to grab Bill’s bag from Mike’s truck, and together him and Eddie help Bill waddle over to their fancy to new ride. Richie climbs in first, so he can help Bill climb in after him, and together the two settle down against each other by the door. The rest of the Losers file in except for Eddie who goes to take his spot in the driver seat. Mike takes a few minutes to tell the driver that hit him what’s going on, before running over and getting in the limo last and slams the door shut.

“Everybody in,” Eddie asks. The driver screen is down, so that they can all see the back of his head.

“Eye,eye captain! HI-HO Silver away!”

He can see Eddie roll his eyes in the mirror, but him and everybody else chuckle at the familiar phrase so Richie counts it as a win. Next to him Bill is using his shoulder as a pillow as he grips the front of his coat with one hand, and Richie’s pant leg with his other. His panting now, eyes fluttering shut it every couple of seconds as the contractions hit. Mike passes him a tiny water bottle that Richie helps Bill drink from.

He listens to each of them share a small story of their lives since moving away from Derry, and just how they somehow all managed to meet up today of all days. Ben had been on his way to some new bookstore that had just opened when he saw the crash. Eddie was going to meet a new client, Stan got off work early for a chance and had decided to take a walk, and Bev was wandering around trying to find some ideas for her new clothing line. Now, here they all were together once again.  

It seemed impossible, yet there was still an ache radiating from his hand from Bill squeezing it earlier that let him know he wasn’t dreaming. This was all completely real.  

“R-richie.”

He turns to look back over at Bill. His face is pale, and his hair starting to stick to his forehead with sweat. Eddie was right. Bill really doesn’t look good right now. He runs his hand through Bill’s hair and shushes him softly.

“It’s okay Babe. We’re almost there.”

Bill shakes his head no.

“Can’t wait.”

“What…. What do you mean can’t wait?”

“N-need to push.”

“Bill, you are not giving birth in my car,” Eddie shouts from the front. The other Losers have stopped talking, and are now watching Bill worriedly as the omega whines and tenses up as another contraction occurs. There seems to be no pause between them now, just one contraction after another.

Richie looks at the other Losers in hopes that one of them will know what to do. They all look equally lost except for Mike who seems to have some idea what to do.

Bless Mike.

“I think we’re going to have deliver this baby in the car.”

Never mind. Mike’s no fucking help at all.

“And just how do you expect us to do us that. None of us know how to deliver a baby,” Stan points out. Bill groans and clenches up again, biting hard down on his lip as he tries not to scream.

“Plus, nobody is giving BIRTH IN MY CAR!”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice at this point Eddie,” Mike says as he gets up and places himself in front of Bill. “I’ve helped deliver a few baby sheep in my time. I know it’s not the same but it’s something, right?” He tries to give Bill a reassuring smile. “You mind if we take your pants off, so I can take a look?”

Richie has to bite his tongue to keep himself from making a comment, and by the way Bill’s literally trying to rip his pants off Richie can assume that Bill doesn’t seem to mind Mike’s limited experience either. Once, they manage to get Bill’s pants and boxer’s off, Mike has Bill shift to the edge of the seat and rest his feet on Mike’s shoulders. The other Losers offer as much privacy as they can by looking away. Eddie smartly keeps his mouth shut.

“Holy fuck there’s a head!”

“What?”

Richie, who it should be reminded is not known for his tack, piers down between Bill’s legs to get a look. Male omega’s do have both male genitals and balls, but there much smaller than male betas and alphas. Under the male’s balls is a third hole referred to as the vaginal hole. It isn’t a vagina though; male omegas are very specific about that.

Currently, Mike is holding Bill’s male genitals out of the way, so he can get a good look at the vaginal hole which seems to have something pressing against the edges from the inside. It takes Richie a second to realize it’s the head.

Holy fuck indeed.

“Okay, uh Bill on the next contraction I’m going to need you to push.”

Bill nods and reaches out to take one of Richie’s hands. Richie prepares for the possibility of Bill breaking his hand. He gives Bill the biggest smile he can manage. Not even a second later he has to look away and bite is lip as Bill squeezes tightly. Bill lets out a shout of pain that startles all of them, including Eddie who swerves a bit but manages to get the limo under control.

Mike works trying to help coax the baby out, but keeps getting distracted by Bill’s feet constantly slipping from his shoulders.

“Hey.” He glances back at the remaining Losers in the car. “Can you guys get over here and help me hold his legs up?”

Stan and Ben stare at him frozen, but Bev moves over and takes a hold of one Bill’s legs. She smiles at Bill, and gives him a soft kiss on the knee as she rubs at his trembling thighs. Ben seems to snap out of whatever stupor he’s in when he sees Bev move, and moves over to support Bill’s other leg. Unlike Bev though he keeps his eyes for away from the scene between Bill’s legs. Stan’s the last one to move. He seems very hesitant at first, but moves to sit next to Bill in the seat and allows Bill to hold on to one of his hands. Richie’s just glad he’s not the only one getting his hand broken today.  

They seem to fall into a pattern as Bill alternates between pushing and not pushing. Bills keeps up a constant stream of curse words, Mike continues working to help get the baby out as much as he can, Bev whispers words of encouragement, Ben mutters praises now and then, and Stan and Richie try their best not curse along with Bill every time he squeezes their hands.

“Come on Bill, your almost there. Just a few more pushes.”

Richie takes a peek back between Bill’s legs. Bev is now holding Bill’s junk out of the way, so Mike can give all his attention to the baby. The baby’s head is now almost all the way out, and Richie stares wide eyed completely flabbergasted. He had no idea such a tiny hole could stretch open so much. He doesn’t even register as Bill clenches down on his hand again. Just watches as more of the baby slips out. A pair of shoulders slip out, two tiny hands, two knobby knees, and then finally two tiny feet. Bills slumps back in the seat completely exhausted.

The newborn’s loud cries fill the car as Mike reaches up to pass the baby to his new mother. Bill cradles the baby in his arms like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. The baby’s still covered in birth goo, and Bill himself isn’t looking too good with his bright red cheeks and sweat soaked hair, but Richie doesn’t think he’s ever seen something more beautiful.

---

“Can you get me a pack of M&Ms?”

Bev nods at him before quietly shutting the door behind herself. Richie turns back around in his seat, and smiles at Bill’s sleeping form on the hospital bed. He leans over to wipe a bit of drool of his chin, and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek. Bill mutters but doesn’t wake up. The sleeping baby in his arms makes a slight noise of protest, but doesn’t wake up either and for that Richie is thankful.

He sits back in his chair and readjusts the baby in his arms. He looks down at the newborn baby boy and smiles.

“Hey there Sammy.” The baby doesn’t so much as flinch, so Richie finds it okay to keep talking. “Sammy Georgie Denbrough. You know Bill was so happy when he came up with that name.” He glances over at the omega on the bed with a loving smile. “He has a bit of hard time saying it though, because of his stutter but he’s been practicing saying it for a month now, so if he seems to be struggling just give him some patience, alright? S’s just aren’t his strong point, but he’s a very stubborn man and refused to name you something easier for him to say. Plus, your middle name, Georgie, that was the name of a very special person in your in your Mom’s life, so don’t be surprised if he struggles a bit with that one either.” He takes a shaky breath and adjusts the baby in his arms again.

“Oh, and those losers that just left. Those are your aunts and uncles. There a bit scary at first but I promise they’ll grow on you.”

“As for me well… I’m not your real daddy… at least by blood but I… if it’s okay with you and your Mom, I’d love it if you called me dad.” The baby in his arms lets out a what could be considered a pleased noise, and snuggle up against him. Richie chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Sammy’s head.

“Welcome to the Loser’s Club, Sammy.”