#derrysheriff

Tensing up as his old man approached him, he almost immediately second-guessed himself. He needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't help it anymore at this point. He was so fed up with his dad's shit. He spoke, then spoke again and Henry finally looked up at him and smiled. "Fuck... You." he had repeated. Fuck.

He was thrown into his bedside table, corner hitting the side of his head heavily. He heard the clinking. Shit, forgot to take those ones out... He watched Butch fling the mattress and box spring off, glaring at the booze bottles before his gaze shifted back to Henry. He could physically see the anger on his face, the vein popping out of his temple and everything. 

He grabbed his shirt, throwing him into the middle of his bedframe on the bottles. As his weight came down, he heard the sound of breaking glass and a searing pain in his elbow. "Fuck..." he grunted, holding himself still as he winced up at Butch. He refused to look at what was causing the pain, although he could feel warmth begin to pool underneath his torso as Butch threatened him before turning to leave the room. 

He paused in the doorway, spitting his punishment at him and Henry looked at the floor, chuckling slightly. He moved the arm underneath him, hissing as he stood himself up. Blood dripping onto the floor, he didn't even acknowledge the pieces of glass sticking out of his arm. Instead, he locked eyes with his dad once again- a breath leaving his lips as his facial expression changed from pain to almost an emotionally-void look. 

"Fine, but it'll be hard to double chores when there's only one person that does 'em anyways." Fucking hell, he really needed to watch what he said. "'Specially since they're workin' you so much..." he added quickly as he looked away to the floor, attempting to spare himself from actually taking an ambulance ride tonight- although he was pretty sure he may have to do something about his elbow soon anyways. He honestly didn't care too much though, because he wanted Butch to see the damage he caused. 

COPS. 

dally’s favorite. although, it seemed like the cops around this town had SHIT for brains. one missing kid after the other and still no answers? hell, even the fuzz back in new york were able to solve a murder case within a day or two. yet again, dally and the gang he was in were always the number one suspects.

it wouldn’t be a surprise if derry police found out about his record. they probably managed to some way or the other. 

              probably isn’t the smartest idea to be glaring at the sheriff while smoking a cigarette, dal.