#post-chapter 2

Shifted through all this to find you Pulling back layers to find through Piecing it all back together Unlearning all of my patterns Finding out what really matters

—Cycles by SVRCINA—

Eddie was dead.

For one terrible, agonizing moment, Richie watched helplessly as his best friend took his last breath, one final quip issuing from pale, blood-stained lips. Richie could only sit there, the world around him disappearing as every cell in his body focused on Eddie’s lifeless form. It seemed like Eddie was merely asleep, head lolled to the side as his chest feebly rose and fell—

With a start, Richie realized that this wasn’t part of his imagination—shallow breaths were issuing from Eddie’s weak mouth, far overshadowed by the noise of the fight nearby. His chest was indeed moving up and down, albeit with great, pained effort.

A giddy laugh escaped Richie’s lips.

“I’m gonna get you out, Eds,” he said reverently, making a solemn vow between them. He stood, not wanting to leave the open wound in Eddie’s torso without the firm pressure of his hands, but knowing the others needed his immediate help more. The sooner they killed this fucking clown, the sooner they could get Eddie out. With a whoop of determination, Richie turned and ran back to the rest of the Losers, only one thing on his mind: get everyone home—alive—as soon as possible.

A few minutes later, the clown was defeated and the walls were starting to shake. Frantically, Richie led the Losers to Eddie’s body and with a bit of maneuvering, he and Ben managed to hoist the smaller man up and on track to the exit. The group worked together to carry—and sometimes drag—Eddie through the crumbling sewers, switching off who supported him when their bodies got too tired.

Everyone took turns but Richie, who refused to let go of his best friend even as his muscles screamed for a break from the added weight. However, Richie pushed through; this pain was nothing compared to the cavernous dark he’d felt when he thought Eddie was gone. Though the sensation had been brief, Richie never wanted to experience something like that again.

In a daze the group exited the sewers, daylight shocking them into hazy awareness of all that had just transpired. Richie wanted nothing more than to run straight to the old quarry and jump off the high cliff with his friends in celebration, screaming with triumph as they’d done twenty-seven years ago.

But Eddie—

His Eddie

—was in his arms, barely breathing—

Barely alive

—but still hanging on despite everything.

Without a second thought the group rushed Eddie to the hospital, where he was quickly escorted into surgery and the rest of the Losers sent to wait on uncomfortable plastic chairs.

While waiting, they were also treated for minor injuries—mainly cuts and scrapes, a few bruised limbs here and there, but nothing life-threatening. It seemed as though Eddie had somehow taken the brunt of the damage for everyone, a fact which twisted the Losers’ hearts in inexplicable gratitude.

Richie only accepted help from the insistent nurses—and an even more insistent Bill—on the condition that he could be treated in the waiting area, not wanting to miss the doctor who came to deliver the news of Eddie’s fate.

And so Richie remained, living in the hospital from the moment visitor hours started to the second they ended and he was ushered out by a harried nurse. His seat in the waiting area was soon replaced with a mildly cozier chair in a private patient room, the nurses working tirelessly around him to make sure Eddie was as comfortable as could be for the state he was in.

When not in the hospital, Richie stayed at the Derry Town House with the rest of the Losers. They’d all decided to remain in Derry for a while, at the very least until Eddie recovered and at the very most for… well, who knew how long. Many of them realized things during their recent adventure that had been buried for the better part of nearly three decades, and they were determined to not to move on with their lives until everything was settled.

Richie, for his part, had finally figured out that he loved the obnoxious, neurotic Eddie Kapsbrak more than life itself. Once the realization hit him like a ton of bricks—sometime between when Eddie had gotten stabbed by Henry Bowers and when the Losers Club finally discovered It’s lair—so many things from his early teen years to now made complete sense. Richie only wished he’d understood his feelings sooner and had a chance to say something before Eddie wound up unconscious in a hospital bed.

Well then, Richie reasoned, he’d just have to tell Eddie once he woke up.

***

It took one and a half weeks for Eddie to come back to life. Richie was dozing in the chair next to the bed as usual, when a low groan nearly made him jump out of his skin. He sprang up and instantly rushed to Eddie’s side.

“Eds?!” Richie whispered urgently. Eddie’s face was scrunched in an expression of discomfort, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was awake. Richie had seen his friend’s face twisted in pain more times than he cared to count over these past few weeks, but after a few seconds Eddie would always lapse back into stillness, further burying whatever spark of hope Richie had that he would ever wake up. This time, however, was different.

“Ugh… Richie?” Eddie groaned, bleary eyes cracking open.

“Hey, Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie answered with a loud, delirious laugh.

He was awake! He was actually awake!

“Hey, Trashmouth,” Eddie answered back, a bit slowly but with a hint of his usual snippiness. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds and then opened them again, fully turning his head to face the friend at his side. “Man, I feel like shit…”

“You don’t look much better,” Richie quipped back, a huge grin on his face. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Oh, real nice, Tozier—insulting the guy laying in the hospital the second he wakes up? What did I ever do to deserve such—ouch—pleasant company?”

“Eds, for you the service is complimentary!”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too!”

Richie continued grin madly, and Eddie’s expression of fake contempt quickly morphed into a bright smile of his own. He let out a sigh, relief washing over his face.

“In all seriousness, Eddie,” Richie began in a soft tone only used when he needed to make a very important point. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me fucking too!” Eddie laughed, then winced at the tight pull on his chest. “So, uh… what the hell happened?”

“Do you want the novel or the Spark Notes edition?” Richie raised an eyebrow, noting Eddie’s discomfort. Now that he was awake, it was only a matter of time before the doctors came in to check him over, but Riche hoped they got a few more minutes alone before the chaos began.

“Uh… Spark Notes,” Eddie responded, gingerly examining the intricate tubing and machinery he was connected to. He pointedly did not lift the covers to check the wound on his chest—he’d been having nightmares about its cause constantly and the dull pain in his torso proved that everything had been all too real. “We can let Bill tell me the novelization once I’m out of here, since that’s kinda his thing anyway.”

“Agreed,” Richie said with another grin. He raised a hand instinctively to push a wayward piece of hair off Eddie’s forehead, then froze when his fingers were an inch away. Eddie gazed up at his hand with wide eyes that slowly shifted to meet Richie’s own. With a nervous laugh, Richie pulled his hand back and let it hang numbly by his side.

“Let’s see…,” he began, gazing up at the ceiling thoughtfully and hoping Eddie didn’t notice the red tinge to his cheeks. “Well, after you, uh… you know…” Richie made a vague gesture. “We went back to It and kicked that clown’s ass. Well, okay, it tried to rough us up a little first, but eventually we got the upper hand.”

“How did you kill it?” Eddie asked, his expression full of curiosity.

Damn, Richie just wanted to take that gorgeous face in his hands, lean in, and—

“We bullied it into submission,” Richie explained, ignoring the intrusive thought. When Eddie scoffed, Richie let out a chuckle. “I’m serious! It preyed on our fear, so we realized that if we didn’t have any fear left to give, It would get weak. So we just started insulting the damn thing—we had a lot of material to use—and as we gained confidence, It lost its strength. Eventually It shrunk down to this, like, big-headed… thing and then Bill literally pulled its heart out.”

“Ugh… sounds nasty,” Eddie said, mouth twisting downwards in disgust.

“Yeah, it was hella gnarly.” Richie nodded solemnly in agreement, then smiled again. “But in the end, we killed It—and this time, we’re sure that clown is dead for good.”

“Thank god.” Eddie let out a huge sigh of relief, sinking back into the bed.

“Hey, uh…” Richie trailed off, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Thanks, Eds. For… for saving me back there. If it wasn’t for you’d I’d have been clown food.”

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie said, a kind smile playing at the edges of his lips. His brown eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion, but he pressed on. “Thanks for getting me out of there, even when I was useless.”

“You weren’t useless!” Richie exclaimed, offended that Eddie would even suggest that. Eddie laughed.

“You know what I mean; I’m sure it wasn’t easy dragging my body through all those tiny passages.”

“Well, luckily you’re like half the size of Beverly, so it worked out fine.”

“Wha—I am not!”

Richie snickered at Eddie’s glare, and soon enough Eddie joined in despite the ache in his chest.

They had made it.

They had really made it.

“Hey, Rich—” Eddie began, but was cut off by a sudden banging on one of the room’s windows that looked into the rest of the hospital. The blinds were drawn a few hours ago, but one set of curtains had been wrenched away as Beverly and Ben pressed their excited faces to the glass and smacked their palms against it to get the boys’ attention.

“Geez, guys, don’t give the dude a heart attack the second he wakes up!” Richie called, his annoyance masked by happiness that some of the other Losers knew that Eddie was awake now, too. Eddie rolled his eyes as he watched Beverly and Ben get a stern talking-to from a nurse who’d come running to see what the commotion was about.

“What were you saying, Eds?” Richie asked, bringing Eddie’s attention back to him.

“Never mind,” Eddie said with a light shake of his head. He pointed to the pair outside the window. “Can you please get those two in here before they break the damn glass? This hospital bill is already going to drain my bank account and I’m not adding that window to my tab…”

“Yes, sir!” Richie replied with an ostentatious salute, then moved to open the door and allow Beverly and Ben into the room, the pair screeching with excitement.

They all collapsed on top of Eddie, who accepted their affection with a grunt of surprise and then did his best to hug them back until the burly nurse pulled them away by the scruff of their collars. Eddie met Richie’s gaze over Beverly’s shoulder and Richie gave him a smile so full of pure joy that Eddie felt as though he might cry. Then, he got a good look at Ben’s face and saw that there were already tears down his cheeks, and that was it—with shuddering breath, Eddie let out a sob and held out his arms for his three friends to fall into them again.

Finally, after twenty-seven years, they were safe.

***

Read Chapter 1 on Tumblr. (You are here.)

Read Chapter 2 on Tumblr. [TO BE RELEASED]