A/N: Hi folks. This is the last chapter of the story, so I just wanted to say a quick thank you for reading and sticking by me until the end! I had a lot of fun with this one. I hope you all are having a great holiday season!

I joined Chris on the couch, wordlessly. I felt numb, my shirt still wet from the tears of my ordinarily rock-solid best friend.

Chris was watching me, wide-eyed.

I ran my hands through my hair and cleared my throat. "Chris, what you just saw… you can't…" I drew in a shaky breath. "You can't tell anybody." The last thing Ace needed was a ruined reputation.

"Yeah, I know that," Chris said softly. "But… is he okay?" He was genuinely troubled, that much I could I see. It wasn't just curiosity that shone in his eyes as he studied my face, looking for answers. It was pity, confusion, maybe even sadness.

I didn't understand how he could be so concerned for the well-being of Ace, especially after he'd been threatened with a knife not 24 hours ago. Hell, he and Ace were practically sworn enemies. And yet, here he sat, listening, with nothing but good intentions. My kid brother was a helluva guy.

I shrugged, mulling his question over. "Yeah, I think he will be," I decided heavily. "Him breaking down like that… It was a long time coming." I swallowed hard. "This hasn't been an easy week for him."

"Because he knew Ray," Chris whispered.

He didn't pose it as a question; he said it with certainty. I gaped at him, bewildered. How did he know that?

"I-I looked through the box," he explained guiltily, nodding at the coffee table. "Rich, I had no idea…"

"Yeah, welcome to club," I mumbled under my breath. "I didn't even know Ace had been writing to the kid until he went missing."

Chris scratched the top of his head. "He keeps a lot to himself, huh?"

I snorted lightly. "You can say that again."

"He's had a rough life, hasn't he?"

"You don't know the half of it," I said hoarsely, feeling tears start to prick my eyes. "Look, Chris, I'm not trying to make Ace out to be a saint, because he's not. But the way he acts… the way he carries himself… there's a reason behind it, man. He doesn't want people to pity him."

Chris shifted in his seat, considering what I was saying. "That's why he acts so tough all the time?"

I nodded. "He pushes people away. Makes himself as untouchable as possible."

"He hasn't pushed you away," Chris commented softly.

I laughed lightly. "That doesn't mean he hasn't tried."

"Do you pity him?" Chris asked.

I didn't even have to think about my answer. "No," I told him firmly. "I respect him." I was quiet for a moment, and then I added: "Especially after this last year. It was hard. For both of us."

Chris frowned at me. "For both of you?"

I bit my lip, not sure if I wanted to elaborate, but I knew Chris wouldn't let it go. I'd already said too much.

"Rich, what are you talkin' about?"

I let out a deep breath. "I'm talking about Denny Lachance," I lamented.

Chris tilted his head at me. "Gordie's brother? You knew him?"

This was going to be hard. I swallowed. "Yeah, I knew him."

"How?" Chris wondered, astounded.

"He was my geometry tutor."

Chris raised his eyebrows. "You had a geometry tutor? No way, I don't believe that."

"I had to get one after Bates caught me cheating on a test," I clarified sheepishly. "I didn't seek him out or nothin'."

"Okay, well now it's starting to make a little more sense…" Chris said, tongue-in-cheek. He smiled sadly at me. "Denny was a pretty good guy, huh?"

I nodded. "The best." My voice cracked at those words and I felt a tear slide down my cheek. But I didn't bother wiping it away. Chris had already witnessed one Cobra lose it today. Might as well keep the ball rolling.

"Tell me about him," Chris said softly.

"What?" I croaked. I was starting to feel a little lightheaded.

"Tell me about Denny," he repeated gently. And then he did a funny thing. He reached out to put his hand on my knee: a reassuring gesture. "I think you need to talk about him."

I sunk into the couch, my face hot. "Chris, I-I don't know if—"

"Try," he interrupted simply. He took his hand off my knee and shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing me. It was clear I had his complete, undivided attention.

Once I had the courage to start talking, the words flew out of me easily. I told Chris everything I remembered about Denny. How I was ill the first day I met him and how he offered to drive me home. How he showed up on the doorstep after Ace's grandmother died, asking us to come play football. How he called me 'Richard' instead of 'Eyeball.' How he took me up to that hill after I'd been beaten to a pulp by pop.

"He made me want to be better," I told Chris. "He made me feel like—"

"Like you were worth something," Chris finished for me softly.

"Yeah," I said, puzzled that he'd known what I was going to say. "How'd you know?"

"Because Gordie's the same way."

"Oh." I smiled slightly to myself. If anything, I was glad Christopher had his very own "Denny" to keep him afloat.

I told Chris how Denny had gotten me started thinking about my future. I told him about the goals I'd set for myself: graduating, finding a job, mending our relationship. "But then Denny died," I said, not able to help the tears as they spilled out of my eyes. "And I lost sight of all of that. I fell back into the same old routine."

"Then what made you show up this morning?" Chris asked.

"Seeing Ray," I answered over the lump in my throat. "Seeing that boy. Chris, if that had been you…" I trailed off, not able to complete the horrid thought, but he knew what I was getting at. I cleared my throat gruffly and wiped my tears away with my sleeve. "You know, I almost chickened out of coming to see you this morning. I knew you wouldn't want anything to do with me, and I couldn't blame you. But Ace told me I had to try. He's the real reason I showed up."

Chris raised his eyebrows. "No kiddin'?"

"No kiddin'."

We fell silent after that. It felt good, getting all of this off my chest. And talking about Denny had been surprisingly therapeutic. I glanced over at Christopher, wondering what was going on in that head of his. I was about to ask him when he spoke:

"I'm sorry I called you a coward, Rich," he said shyly.

He looked up at me and we locked eyes. "I'm sorry I gave you a reason to."

Ace and I never talked about what happened that day again. In fact, the next morning, he acted as if nothing had happened. And I played along.

He got up around the same time Chris and I did and started getting ready for work. When I asked him if he was sure he was okay to go into work, he told me to stop being such a pansy, in true Ace Merrill fashion. But I had a feeling he just wanted to feel normal again.

Christopher was starting junior high that morning. Realizing his school was on the way to my new job at the post office, I offered to walk with him.

"Is it okay if we pick Gordie up on the way?" he asked unsurely. "I told him I'd meet up with him."

I smiled. "Sure, kid." I had something I needed to give back to Lachance, anyway.

Chris and I stopped outside of the Lachances' house to pick up Gordie. It was hard being there. Denny's blue Coupe de Ville was still parked out front, and that sent shivers up and down my spine. I wondered vaguely if the car belonged to Gordie now.

Chris whistled for Gordie to let him know he was there, and Gordie emerged from his house just seconds later. He had a big grin on his face until he caught sight of me.

He approached us carefully, looking me up and down. Then he looked to Chris, questioningly.

"It's okay," Chris told him earnestly. "Richie's gonna walk with us to school. He starts a job at the post office today."

Gordie glanced back to me, eyes wide, still looking a little unsure. I couldn't get over how much he looked like Denny.

And then I remembered.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out Denny's Yankees cap. I held it out to the kid, sort of like a peace offering. I cleared my throat. "I, uh— I think this belongs to you," I said nervously.

I saw Gordie's face light up when he laid eyes on the cap. He took it from me, examining it thoroughly. He'd probably thought he'd never see it again. "Thanks," he said, grinning from ear to ear. He put the cap on his head and looked back up at me. He held my gaze for a long time before speaking again. "I saw you, you know," he said finally.

I didn't know what he was talking about. "Huh?"

"The night of Denny's funeral. I saw you at the graveyard. You were the one paying your respects at sundown."

"Yeah," I said hoarsely. "That was me." I remembered having the sensation that I was being watched that night. That's because I had been.

Gordie was staring at me now, as if he was seeing me in a way he hadn't before. I knew that look. It was the same one Chris had given me yesterday. It was a good look to be on the receiving end of.

Chris cleared his throat. "We should probably get moving," he said softly.

Gordie nodded. He gave me a shy smile before turning on his heel and starting the walk to school. Chris and I followed closely behind.

When we arrived at the school, Chris hung back with me while Gordie went on inside.

"I guess this is it," Chris said, eyeing the school anxiously. He'd told me last night that he was going into some advanced classes with Gordie and he was mighty nervous about them.

"You'll be great, man." I jammed my hands in my pockets and rocked back and forth on my feet. "Don't be afraid to raise a little hell. You are a Chambers kid, after all." I winked at him.

Chris laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that. I'll raise plenty of hell."

Chris told me last night that he was going to keep living at home so he could look after Ma. You saw what happens when I'm not there, he'd said, and I shuddered as I remembered her black eye. But Chris also promised me he'd get out if it ever got too bad. He knew he had a place to stay if he needed it.

"Good luck today," Chris said.

"Thanks, kid. When I get my first paycheck, I'll take you out to eat." I definitely didn't want him to be a stranger.

Chris grinned. "I'm holding you to that." He held his arm out. "Give me some skin."

I gaped at his outstretched arm in awe. Chris had never asked me to "give him some skin." It was a handshake that he and his closest friends did. It was something they held sacred. I was honored that he'd asked me.

I put my arm out and went through the motion.

"I'll see you soon," he said, looking me right in the eye.

I nodded. "Real soon."

As I watched my little brother climb the steps to his new school, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time; I felt happy.

I smiled to myself as I looked up at the sky.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I hope Lachance heard me.

Fin.