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2019-10-15
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In Case You Don't Live Forever

Summary:

In which Richie decides that not saying anything is stupid and if they have the chance to die, he's not going to do it without telling a certain dumbass how he feels.

Notes:

This is....an absolute mess. This is my first story for IT, and probably my last because the anxiety I've felt just trying to get this story out has been insane. But I listened to 'In Case You Don't Live Forever' by Ben Platt (which, if you haven't heard it, I urge you go to listen to it, even if you decide not to read this story) and it just screamed Reddie to me. Like screamed so loud. So I wanted to write this. I hope you like it and can find some enjoyment out of it!

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I've carried this song in my mind
Listen, it's echoing in me
But I haven't helped you to hear it
We, we've only got so much time
I'm pretty sure it would kill me
If you didn't know the pieces of me are pieces of you

-In Case You Don't Live Forever, Ben Platt

--------------------------

By some miracle, the remaining five losers managed to keep Bill from bolting to Neibolt alone (though, had the carnival been located anywhere other than right next to the library, they wouldn’t have stood a chance). Their fearless leader stood shaking against the door jab of the library, hands wringing as his mind still wrestled with what he’d just witnessed. Three people; that made three people dead because he wasn’t able to be there for them. Three people that were his fault

No one else really had much to say either; while none of them had to witness the death of another person, each were still processing the things they had experienced that day too; things they had repressed, things they hadn’t had to be burdened to think about in 27 years. 

It had been a long fucking day, to say the least. 

Richie was the first to say so as they all stood inside the library doors, casting spare glances at Henry Bowers dead body that was still lying just feet from them.. “Look, okay, can we just-” he paused, rubbing his eyes and drawing in a shaky breath. “We need to get some sleep, right? I know we gotta go kill the scary ass clown, but we haven’t slept in, what, a full twenty-four hours? And I don’t know about anyone else but I’ve had a shitty day, not exactly on my best game here.” 

“Yeah, he’s right,” Eddie agreed quietly, a tired sigh leaving him too. “I got stabbed in the face today, and while I’m sure it’d be easier to get this entire thing done and over with, I’d kind of like to have an actual shot in hell.”

Ben and Beverly mumbled their agreeances, though just like the previous two, they knew sleep wouldn’t come easily after such a day. They could only hope that some semblance of rest was a possibility. 

“G-g-guys we h-have to...we can’t j-just-” Bill started, though he didn’t get far as Mike rested a hand on his arm. 

“Bill, I want this over too, I’ve wanted it over for 27 years. But they’re right, this ritual, defeating It, nothing will work unless we’re strong. I think...I think regrouping may be the best bet.” Everyone stayed quiet as they looked to Bill, knowing that despite whatever state they were in, Bill’s word would be unquestioned law. But the man just blew out a breath and nodded, wiping at his eyes. 

“I don’t w-want a-a-anyone a-alone. D-double up and m-m-meet b-back at the Inn.” And that was that. The pairs broke off naturally, Bill staying behind with Mike to take care of Bowers body, Bev in Ben’s car, and lastly Eddie with Richie. 

--

The ride back to the Inn was mostly quiet, which is what unnerved Eddie the most. No jokes, no small talk, only the low buzzing of the radio and an off-hand inquiry about whether or not Eddie wanted to get something to eat. 

He had half a mind to ask what Richie had been through that day, but he hardly wanted to think about his own experience, so it was only natural to extend that same courtesy to his friend. 

But what else unnerved Eddie was the seemingly packed bag sitting in Richie’s back seat. He’d caught a quick glimpse of it as he had gotten in the car, frowning at it instantly. 

When Ben had said that he had talked Richie out of leaving, he hadn’t wanted to believe that Richie would go in the first place. Because that meant leaving him, and everyone else , to deal with this thing without him. Though, it’s not like Eddie could blame him; he was scared shitless too, and if Bowers hadn’t stuck a knife in his face, he’d have thought about getting the fuck out of dodge right after he showered. 

But the proof that Richie had at least been in the progress of actually leaving, even after talking to Ben made something tug inside him. Thoughts of the unfairness of losing his best friend right as they had reconnected bubbled up to the forefront of his mind, but he couldn’t ignore that there was something much deeper there too. 

As they reached the Inn and got out of the car, he noticed that Richie didn’t take his bag back in with him. He didn’t say anything about it, though he carried a deep frown as they walked through the doors and up the stairs. Eddie stopped at his door and Richie split off to go into his room with a small wave. 

Eddie watched him go, before slipping into his own room. It took no more than 45 seconds for him to grab his toothbrush and head up to Richie’s room. 

He knocked, looking down and shuffling his feet nervously as he waited for an answer. He looked back up as the door opened to reveal a confused looking Richie Tozier. The taller man blinked for a second before relaxing against the door frame. “Right, Dad said we’re supposed to stick together.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes softly and nodded. “Yeah. And, well, not to mention, my room feels really creepily haunted. And-” he paused, sighing as he scratched the back of his neck. “You left your bag in your car and I didn’t-I wanted to make sure you’d be here in the morning,” he finished simply. 

Richie gave him an innocent look as he chuckled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Eds. Just figured that if we’re going into the sewers tomorrow, might as well do that in clothes that are already dirty. Save on laundry and all that water conversation shit,” he teased, moving to let the other man in. Though, he was lying, of course. He couldn’t deny that he left the bag in his car on the off chance his flight reaction kicked in again. And judging by the look Eddie was giving him, he knew that too. 

“Right...whatever you say,” he murmured walking into the room and heading straight to the bathroom, keeping the bathroom door open and his eyes peeled on the room behind him, and the man inside, as he brushed his teeth.  

Richie tried to ignore the eyes on him, knowing that Eddie was waiting for him to make the wrong move so he could pounce. It was fucking annoying as shit, having someone who knew you almost better than you knew yourself. But as a way to prove that he was staying true to his word, he took off his jacket and his button down shirt, sliding out of his jeans soon after before climbing into the bed. He gave a pointed look to Eddie as if to say ‘see?’ before getting himself comfortable. 

Eddie rolled his eyes before turning back to the sink, spitting and rinsing his mouth out before turning out the light and stepping back into the room. He followed Richie’s lead, stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers. He turned off the lights and climbed into bed next to Richie, crossing his arms over his middle with a sigh. 

They laid there quietly for a minute until- “You know, if we leave right now we can be in New York by tomorrow morning.” 

Eddie scoffed, finally relaxing into the bed as he shook his head, his arm coming up to rest over his eyes. “Then you’re just trading Pennywise for my wife, and honestly, that’s not a lot better.”

Richie laughed loudly, turning his head in Eddie’s direction. “Why did you even marry her, dude? You just made the joke before I could and that’s not a good sign.” 

Eddie groaned, tugging the pillow from behind his head and shoving it over his face. “I don’t know,” he grumbled. “She took care of me, and I mean, I do love her. But by the time I realized that she was basically my mother, it was too late.” 

Richie just stared for a moment, biting back his smile as he looked back at the ceiling. “I can’t even say anything, Eds, that’s just sad,” he teased, laughing loudly as a smack was delivered to his chest. “Okay, so how about Boston, then? Get our Tea Party on?” 

“Don’t call me that. And we’re about 250 years late for that one.” 

“Damn,” Richie sighed, running a hand through his hair as the air settled into silence around them.

Eddie glanced over at him this time, opening his mouth and hesitating before breaking it again. “I know you’re scared, Rich, we all-” 

“I’m not scared ,” Richie interrupted, sounding tired and childlike. Had they not been having these same conversations for the past 24 hours? He needed a god damned nap. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just, I don’t wanna..” he stopped himself before the words ‘ lose you guys ’ could fall through his lips. He couldn’t say them, because isn’t that still fear? Not wanting to risk losing your friends to a cannibalistic alien clown? 

Eddie looks at him quietly, seeming to know what was going through his head before looking down the length of the bed to the tv. 

They stayed that way for a few moments before Eddie cracked a grin. He wasn’t sure what made him think of it, but he welcomed the reprieve from the heavy atmosphere. “Remember that day at the quarry?” 

Richie didn’t move his eyes from the ceiling as the memory came back to him, causing him to scoff. “I remember some loser thinking that loogies were measured by mass and not distance, like the actual rules of the universe say,” he muttered, his lip tugging at the corner as he saw the other man’s head snap to attention out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh fuck you, asshole. It is mass, it always has been.”

“Twenty-seven years later and you’re still trying to stand by that to cheat yourself into a win for a game we’re not even playing anymore. That’s dedication, Eds, I’ll give you that much,” he grinned, something much lighter than he’d managed since visiting the clubhouse that afternoon. But how could he help it? Eddie Kaspbrak was giving him his signature glare and suddenly, everything felt okay again. “It really didn’t even matter in the long run, did it? We would’ve just kept standing there, spitting until we died. None of us were actually going to jump until-” 

“Bev,” Eddie finished for him with a fond smile. 

“That’s one crazy bitch right there,” Richie laughed. “I’m surprised you even jumped. You know, before you discovered how to purify an entire lake of its bacteria.” Eddie smacked him again as Richie laughed, opening his mouth with a retort ready to fly before Richie cut him off again. “And Stan…” 

They settled into a thoughtful quiet again. Richie huffed another small laugh as he shook his head. “Mr. Rational, I fully expected him to stay at the top of that cliff. Or walk down like a sane person.” 

Eddie played with the edge of the comforter thoughtfully before he shrugged. “Things changed when Bev came. She just...charged. No fear, just ran and jumped. It felt like we could live forever, no fucking clown would be able to take that away.” He laughed suddenly, shaking his head. “We could jump off cliffs, stand up to Bowers; I stood up to my mom...without a single thought to it that summer.” 

“Because we were all together,” Richie mused without thought to his words. He paused, shutting his eyes tight to avoid the knowing and smug look that he was sure was in Eddie’s eyes. He let out a long sigh. “Fine, alright? I get it, I won’t leave,” he grumbled, opening his eyes to be greeted by a victorious grin stationed on the other man’s face. 

Richie took that split moment to look him over; that’s not to say that it was the first time since their arrival back in this shit hole town, but it was certainly the first time that he’d gotten to do so without the fear that someone other than Eddie would catch him. Eddie he could hide it from, the other man being so fucking oblivious to some of the most obvious of things; Bev, though? Not a chance. 

Age suited him, and he looked good . The lines on his face only accentuated his features; his intense brown eyes framed nice by the crows feet scrunched next to them, his laugh lines following the curve of his hair that had hardly even thought about receding (something Richie tried not to be too jealous of), and his dimples seemed even more prominent now than they had been when they were kids, and that aided in softening the jaw that had definitely squared up in that time. But the longer he looked, the more he just saw the thirteen year old kid that he had been in love with. The lines, somehow, just made him realize that just because he had forgotten the man by him for twenty-seven years, didn’t mean that he had ever stopped loving him. 

Which, he realized as he turned away, only made him sad. He’d missed out on so much of Eddie’s life, the love of his life’s life. Proms, colleges, meeting and marrying his wife (which, Richie tried very hard not to be jealous of); the good times, hell, the bad times. He’d missed all of it. Because of that fucking clown . And he didn’t even know any of those things now, and he wasn’t sure if he’d even get the chance.

“Do you feel it again?” Eddie asked, breaking Richie out of his spell. “Like we’ll live forever?” The shorter man turned to look at Richie with bright and hopeful eyes, but Richie knew he couldn’t give him the answer he was looking for. He didn’t feel it this time. All he felt was dread, a calm but overbearing warning that things may not go as smoothly this time. 

The longer he took to answer, the dimmer the light got in Eddie’s eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you, Spaghetti Man. We’re not all here this time,” he muttered, turning his body to grab his phone off the table. 

“Don’t fucking call me that, dickwad,” Eddie shot back, almost out of reflex; his usual fight wasn’t there. He watched as Richie’s phone lit up, his eyes narrowing as he came face to face with a default lock screen. Despite it being one of the more ridiculous defaults, it was still so devoid of personality that he had to wonder if this man before him really was the same boy from his childhood. 

He watched as Richie navigated to his home screen, rolling his eyes with a scoff as he saw Candy Crush sitting there happily. His eyebrow quirked as he saw a flash of an icon that looked suspiciously like Grindr before Richie opened Facebook. He frowned, forcing out a chuckle. “Am I boring you that much?” he asked, trying to sound teasing, though he couldn’t keep out the slight annoyance in his tone. 

“I don’t think you have the ability to bore me, Eds; your reactions are just too good,” he mumbled half heartedly as he tapped on the search bar, typing in “Stanley Uris” with such careful consideration that you’d think a ghost would jump out of the screen. In many ways, if the search proved successful, that’s what he was expecting. “He lived in Georgia, right?” he muttered aloud, not waiting for an answer as he clicked a few more times and confirmed the search. 

The first result rang true, and Richie felt his heart soar and plummet at the same time, Eddie feeling something similar as he finally realized what his friend was doing. The smaller man jumped as he heard a sharp scoff from the comedian, the profile expanding on the phone. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Richie said as he tapped on the profile picture. “I’m seriously the only one who didn’t ‘glow up’ in this twenty-seven year recess?” 

“It’s karma for all the sex jokes. Though, Bev was right, you did grow into your looks,” Eddie deadpanned, his own eyes wide as he swiped through the pictures. He had to agree, though; Stan looked amazing . It was a subtle sort of...hot, the only thing Eddie could come up with to describe it. His face was still kind, he wasn’t extraordinarily built or too scrawny, his clothes were still painstakingly neat, his curls a bit darker. But it was still Stan, and he still looked the same.

Only taller , Eddie thought with a fond smile. 

Richie, however, was looking down at Eddie, his mouth hanging open in offense. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that, but I resent it.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, glancing up at him. “You look hot too, Tozier; better?”

Richie’s eyebrows shot up as he leaned over. “Yeah? Does that mean I was hot back then too? Eds, why didn’t you tell me, I could’ve snuck off from your mom for a night, had a little-” 

“Beep-fucking-beep, asshole,” Eddie interrupted, putting his hand over Richie’s face and shoving him back before leaning closer to look at the phone. They’d landed on a picture of Stan and his wife. Stan was smiling happily, his nose nuzzled against the cheek of the woman (who they could only assume was his wife) taking the picture. Stan didn’t look like he had a care in the world about anything other than the woman in his arms. 

“They look happy,” Eddie noted softly, a tinge of sadness pulling at his chest. He couldn’t remember a time he was that happy since high school, with the Losers, before they’d all started being pulled in their opposite directions. He had handed himself from the hands of his mother to  her exact doppelganger, living a stifled life in a job he didn’t want, in a house that barely felt like his. Coming home to face his greatest fears almost felt like a relief the more he thought about it. 

“Yeah,” Richie agreed, his voice quiet as he let out a loaded breath. His thoughts somewhere along the same lines. He loved comedy, but somewhere along the way, it stopped being about his genuine talent and more about what would sell, what was marketable. Someone took the ‘Trashmouth’ name and ran with it, taking with it all the meaning the nickname had ever had for him. And he went home every night to...nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Eddie glanced back up at him again, noting the tone of his voice. He looked back at the picture, then back to Richie, observing the eyes that seemed a bit more sad and a bit more tired than they had ten minutes ago. He hesitated slightly before laying his head back on the pillow. “Were you…” he started before clearing his throat. “Did you and Stan; were you like-”

Richie looked down at him slowly, his eyes widening in bewilderment before barking out a loud and surprised laugh. “What part of this picture makes you think that Stan was gay and in love with me, of all people?” He kept laughing for a moment, settling as he saw the red tint to Eddie’s face. “Besides, I was too head over for your mother, Stan could never compete.” 

He grinned as Eddie groaned and shoved him hard. “Stuff it, Trashmouth. Get new material, for god's sake, it’s disgusting.”

Richie let out another laugh, his eyes shining as he shook his head. “No, Stan was just...Stan. My best friend, nothing more. That kid put one finger on my arm and I knew I better keep this trap shut before I ended the fucking world.” 

“He did have a gift,” Eddie agreed, smiling slightly. “I’m offended, though, I thought I was your best friend.” 

Richie huffed a small chuckle, shaking his head again. “Nah, you were different, Eddie,” he breathed out, his voice getting quieter. “Always different.” He let his gaze slip from the smaller man and back to the phone, fiddling with a few more pictures. He should’ve made a joke, something about his mom, Eddie being different because he was his step-son, but it was stuck in his throat. Maybe it was the looming threat of the next day, or maybe he was just tired. But it didn’t feel right. 

Eddie, on the other hand, stared at him.  He rarely heard his normal name fall out of Richie’s mouth, and when he did, he usually took that as a sign that something more serious was underneath. Memories of walking in the park with ice cream, moments in the hammock and bickering flashed across his eyes, as well as the brief moments where one of their touches would linger, the small smiles, and the jokes that no one else seemed to be in on. 

Was there something more to those moments? Eddie supposed so, he knew that he had always wished that there was, and he let himself take in a little hope that maybe Richie did feel the same. 

“A fucking accountant. Of course he was,” Richie ripped, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts. 

Eddie glanced down at the ‘About’ section of Stan’s profile and laughed, shaking his head. “No surprise there, the nerd was a grade below us taking math classes levels above us,” he chuckled, reaching over to swipe up slowly as he read the other information. 

That’s how they spent a good half hour, looking through Stanley Uris’s Facebook profile. It wasn’t much, but it was the Chinese restaurant part two - getting to know the friend they hadn’t even thought about for twenty-some years. It was like a bubble surrounded them, where they could just be themselves again, as if tomorrow didn’t potentially mark the end of the world.  

“Upgraded from khaki shorts to cardigans, moving up in the world, Stan the Man.” 

“There is nothing wrong with cardigans, asshat.” 

“Coming from the guy who spent the end of the 80s in the same red shorts-”

“They were FUNCTIONAL, thank you. Cool, breathable-”

“Sun repellent too, considering you still somehow avoided a tan all summer-”

“Fuck off, Trashmouth, you’re one to talk.”

“What can I say, Eds, Sonia liked me pasty.”

“I will literally kill you if 1) you don’t stop calling me that and 2) if you don’t get a new jokel.”

They giggled over the bird troop that Stan was a part of, a group of grown ass men looking as small as bird scouts in their matching uniforms with binoculars hanging around their necks. 

“I’m willing to bet money that he had a bird room in his house.” 

“What, like a bunch of pet birds, posters? Glass window wall to look outside?” 

“Cute of you to assume I didn’t mean all three.”

They flipped through his albums, dozens upon dozens of them filled with pictures of different vacations. 

“Someone got around.”

“If I had to live my life as an accountant, I would too.” 

Finally, they scrolled through his timeline, fond smiles becoming a permanent fixture on their faces at the dry, witty statuses, clipped and to the point; some were more joyous, but it was Stan through and through. 

“It’s fitting, that he had the most normal life out of all of us,” Eddie mused. 

“And then with one phone call, it was ripped away,” Richie murmured, sounding rather resigned. The statement was heavy, and suddenly the bubble burst, the reality of their situation coming back to settle upon them on full force. 

“Why do you think-” Eddie started before Richie sharply shook his head. 

“I don’t want to think why,” he cut in with a bitter tone, flipping back to Stan’s profile picture. “He just did it. He had his reasons, and if I know Stan at all, even with this stupid cursed amnesia, it wasn’t something he took lightly. But no matter the reason, I lost my best friend because of that fucking clown. That’s all I care about and that’s why that fucker is going down.” The strength in his voice surprised even himself. That feeling, the one of living forever was returning, but he was hesitant to let himself feel it. But with one last look at the picture in front of him, and the words “ I know I’m a loser; and I always fucking will be ” he thought maybe, just maybe, they could pull it off. 

“Rich,” Eddie started softly. “We’re going to do it this time. We are.” 

Richie just nodded, blowing out a breath as he locked his phone and set it back down on the table. It was only then he noticed Eddie was close to him. Of course he was, he couldn’t look at the phone any other way. It was the way that Eddie dropped his head on Richie’s pillow, his hair ticking his chin as his head rested on his neck that made Richie’s face flush and his heart start to pound. But he didn’t make any effort to move. 

Instead, he laid his head more solidly on the pillow, turning his head so it was resting on top of Eddie’s. He sighed softly, crossing his arms over his chest as he let his mind wander in the quiet. 

He felt Eddie shift, moving closer to Richie as he turned into him more to get more comfortable as his eyes drifted closed. Richie watched him, melting as he watched peace start to drift over Eddie’s features. He had to stop himself from grabbing his phone and taking a picture, finally giving himself an actual lock screen, but he couldn’t move. Every emotion he had ever felt for the man next to him washed over him in full force. 

The Losers often thought about the fact that they would probably follow Bill Denbrough to the ends of the earth, but looking down at the man on his shoulder, Richie realized that he would follow Eddie first. The boy-the man, that was so brave in the face of anything that challenged him, so genuine of a person that cared about each of his friends as if they were the most important people in the world, who broke an arm, and got stabbed in the face, yet still charged on like it was nothing. He was the fire in Richie's world, and maybe he always had been, even if he hadn't realized it. 

He sucked in a deep breath, running a gentle hand over Eddie’s arm. “Eddie?’ he said softly, his heart fluttering as Eddie stirred. 

There was his actual name again, it was starting to worry him. “Yeah, Rich?” 

Richie paused again, swallowing hard as Eddie started looking up at him. “In case we don’t live forever,” he started, his voice thick but barely above a whisper. “I need to tell you something.” 

Eddie propped himself up, fulling looking down at Richie now. “You’re starting to freak me out here, man, what’s going on?”

Richie screwed his eyes shut again, taking a sharp breath to resolve himself. “I’m gay,” he forced out, daring to open his eyes and look up at Eddie who was peering down at him with a careful look. 

“Okay, and…?”

“And I love you,” Richie rushed on. “Not in like the Losers way, the ‘hey friend, you’re swell, I love you’ but the real one. The ‘it’s been twenty-seven years, I’m still not even sure you’re the same person, but I’ve felt more whole with you in the past hour in this room that I have since I was a teenager’ sort of way. And-” 

“Richie-” Eddie tried to cut in, his face flushed and his eyes wide.

“And there’s no expectation, I know you’re married, and have your own life-”

“Richi-”

“But you know, I could die tomorrow and man, I don’t think I could do that with a clear conscious if I didn’t tell you and I know that this will cause a giant rift between your mom and me but-”

“For fuck sake, beep-beep!” Eddie cried out in exasperation as he dove down and smashed their lips together. 

Every thought process in Richie’s mind stopped completely as he froze, not having expected this in the slightest. It took a second before he relaxed, a hand flying to mold against Eddie’s cheek as he pressed forward. 

Too soon, Eddie pulled back, his eyes searching wildly between Richie’s. The comedian looked back, his eyes narrowed in confusion though a small smile played on his lips as his thumb stroked the other’s jaw gently. “What was-”

“I don’t know,” Eddie breathed out, slowly sitting up completely. Richie let his hand start to fall until Eddie caught it, keeping it securely in his. “I don’t know, Rich. When we were kids, I just-I know that being around you felt more right than with anyone else. I never thought about the connotation, I just knew that my day was better with you and the day you moved was the worst of my life. And that’s saying something.” He shuddered as he thought about his wedding day, and Richie cracked a grin as he sat up too. “I don’t know what it means. You stopped calling and writing, and then I left and started forgetting even though there was something never really complete. I never thought about it though. Never….I don’t even know if I’m... what I am, I-”

“Eds,” Rich said quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it right now, okay? We have much bigger, uglier fish to fry. I just need you to know.” 

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Rich…”

Richie shook his head again, pulling Eddie towards him and laying them back down. “We can talk about it after, we’ve got time. We’re gonna live forever, remember?” 

Eddie smiled slightly as he settled against the taller man, hesitantly wrapping his arm around Richie as he nodded. “Yeah. Forever.”

--

It was hardly four hours later that they were woken up by a loud knock on their door and a muffled ‘Let’s go!’ Eddie and Richie blinked awake, meeting each other’s eyes with knowing smiles and fear filled eyes. 

As they walked into the Inn lobby hand in hand, no one said a word, though Bev took in the sight with a sad smile. 

--

Richie stood back from the rotting wood of the Kissing Bridge, phantom tears running down his face with three large and clumsy markings staring back at him. 

R + E

With Pennywise finally out of the picture, it’s like a dam unlocked, and he suddenly remembered the day he had first carved it very clearly. 

When Eddie had gotten back from the hospital after receiving his cast, Richie had been sitting on the front porch, waiting. He was so thankful to Stanley Uris, who covered for him to his parents and brought him food and a blanket for the overnight stay (Stan knew when it was best not to fight him on something). He hadn’t stopped being worried for his friend since that day, his screams echoing in his head and the memories of a sad face as Sonia threw him in the car. It was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever not carry with him. Richie knew, even at that age and that time that Eddie meant something more to him than any of the other Losers. Eddie was his to protect, and he couldn’t help but feel that he had failed so miserably. 

That thought wasn’t helped as Sonia and Eddie finally did come back home and Sonia all but threw Eddie into the house before Richie could say a word. Eddie cast him a desperate look, opening his mouth, but Mrs. Kaspbrak shut the door on him before he could. 

“I’ve already told you once, you disgusting boy; Eddie is done with you, with all of you. You only got him hurt, he doesn’t want or need you anymore. Pass this on to your little friends: if I see any of you near my Eddie-bear again, I will not hesitate to pack this house up and take him somewhere you can’t reach. Leave, now,” she snarled before promptly turning around and heading inside. 

It felt like Richie had been gutted as he heard an ungodly amount of locks being clicked into place on the other side of the door. He took a few steps back and looked up at Eddie’s window, his heart tearing in two even further as the other boy met his gaze, tears staining his cheek as his hand pressed against the window. 

Richie let out a shaky breath. “I’ll come back,” he said aloud, though working his lips so that Eddie could read them. He saw the smaller boy take a breath and nod, a small, relieved smile appearing on his face. 

Richie went right to the bridge after that. Fuck Sonia Kaspbrak if she thought anything she tried to do would keep him Eddie, would keep him from caring, from loving that asthmatic, fiery, brave asshole.

He brought out his knife and started carving, a careful and resigned energy flowing through him. He checked over his shoulder every so often but worked diligently until he was satisfied. He stayed there, leaning against the railing until the sun started disappearing in the distance before biking right back to the Kaspbrak residence. He climbed up to Eddie's window, just as he promised.

No, Sonia Kaspbrak couldn’t take Eddie away from him. 

And neither could Pennywise.

Of course, he had. Something that 40 year-old Richie pained to remember. Only physically, at least. 

He couldn’t take away the feeling, though. The undiluted love that flowed from him for everything that Eddie was, had been, had overcome. And while it was the most painful thing he had ever felt, it set him free. Not many people can say that they loved someone so completely. 

But he did, he smiled as he finished recarving the last line of his love’s first initial. And he always will. 

Forever.