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"Why are you so worried about Eddie?" asked Stan quietly as they entered Richie's room. They've just been through their first collective meeting with IT. After an intense and unearthly encounter with the clown, he fought with the others, mostly Bill, about their safety and how it wasn't worth their lives.
"Aren't you?" he snapped back, still filled with anger. But it all faded when he saw Stan's surprised face. "I-I'm sorry. It's just this whole shit is so-"
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and just right after, a soft hug from his friend. They've barely showed any affection, but sometimes it was really needed.
Like that time Bowers first started picking on Richie, about being a fag. He cried, he wasn't proud of it, but he did. Only Stan knew about it, being the only one comforting him, and the only one knowing he's actually gay.
"You like him, don't you?" asked Stan, snapping Richie back to reality. His hands gripping onto his friend's shirt even harder than before, just realizing he's been shaking the whole time.
"I'm sorry..." he apologized, voice shaking too.
"Wha- No Richie, don't apologize. It's not a bad thing." the hug tightened.
The raven haired always wondered why his friend wasn't disgusted. He was a believer, a religious person. According to almost all religions, homosexuality was a sin, no?
"I was so scared. We could've died today Stan. We could've fucking died." Richie said, voice breathy and shaky still. The other boy let go of him, his hands in a strong hold on the other's shoulders.
"But we didn't. We are alive Richie. It's all okay. Everything is. Eddie too." said Stan. His words were always so comforting. Calm, helpful, soft words.
"Come on. Sit down a little." he said, pulling Richie to his bed. "Rest a little."
The other sighed, following his friend's advice. Feeling the softness of his bed, his pillow, he fell asleep on an instant.
~~
Was he really ready to go back to Derry? Although he couldn't go back now, could he? He was already parking next to the restaurant they'll be meeting at. He felt something pulling him towards Derry, but that very same thing was pushing him away from there. He didn't know what it was, though he had an idea.
~~
Soon, every loser gathered in the restaurant. Except Stan. Richie was nervous. Scared even. His best friend wasn't there to calm him, to help him. So out of emotional overflow, he started talking. Just like in the old times. Talking bullshit, telling mom jokes and offending everyone.
~~
He still found Eddie perfect. Nothing has changed. Of course he was married now. To a woman. Stan was wrong about Eddie's sexuality, but Richie was right, and he took it as a win.
~~
Eddie was on top of him, happily telling him how he destroyd IT. How he finally did it. That's when it happened. A claw. It tore through Eddie like it was nothing. Richie, even though he was in shock, could hear Eddie whimpering, calling out to him. This wasn't fair. It just...it wasn't.
~~
IT had disappeared. Forever. That's when Eddie ran through his mind. He rushed over to him as fast as he could, barely catching his breath as he kneeled down before him. He told him the news, he was happy, it was over. But Eddie didn't budge. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't...breathing. Richie was shaking by now, calling out to Eddie, then to the others for help. They could still save him, right? They could help him, like in the old days...right? Richie hugged him, sobbing into the cold neck of the love of his life. The others dragged him away, leaving Eddie's lifeless body there. This can't be happening. It's just a dream. This can't be real.
~~
It was real. The fresh air, the cold water and the relieved breaths made him realize that this was in fact real. So real. When the thought finally settled in him, when it really hit him, that's when he broke. He was crying, he felt like he was a kid again. Only, this was much heavier than that. It hurt like hell. Even more when the losers gathered around him, hugging him, crying with him.
~~
He was there again. Like he was a kid. Knife in his hand, kneeling in the dirt and carving. The letters faded over time, but they never dissappeared, just like his feelings. They were a little dusty and battered, like his heart. He smiled faintly, slowly recarving the letters. Remembering all the times they have spent together. The times they laughed, joked around or just talked. The times they fought, or when they made up. There was it again, his tears. His tears always ruined everything, every moment. They reminded him of how sad he was, even when he thought of only good things. Only the best things. He hated his tears. But still, they made him feel relief. They told him he was human. They reminded him of time changing. He wiped them of. He didn't want to be reminded of the time now. Not now. It would only make him cry more.
It was done. The letters were as beautiful as the first time he carved them. Only now, it was much more visible.
R + E
~~
If you think Richie Tozier got the same letter as the other losers, you dead wrong. Stan was his best friend after all. His friend, his comfort, his living safehouse. That's why his letter wasn't like the others. It was the same, but it meant something different.
"Dear losers, I know what this must seem like, but this is not a suicide note. You’re probably wondering why I did what I did. it’s because I knew I was too scared to go back. And if we weren’t together, if all of us alive weren’t united, I knew we’d all die so, I made the only logical move. I took myself off the board. Did it work? Well, if you’re reading this, you know the answer. I lived my whole life afraid. Afraid of what would come next, afraid of what I might leave behind. Don’t. Be who you want to be. Be proud. And if you find someone worth holding onto, never ever let them go. Follow your own path, wherever that takes you. Think of this letter as a promise, a promise I'm asking you to make. To me. To each other. An oath. See, the thing about being a loser is you don’t have anything to lose. So be true. Be brave. Stand. Believe. And don’t ever forget, we’re losers and we always will be."
After reading it, Richie was heartbroken. His whole world collapsed onto him. He knew what the letter meant, with that special meaning behind it, just for him. He had to put down the letter before staining it with the tears that were trickling down his face. He was crying again. Just in the last 3 days he had cried more than he did in his whole life.
It was unfair. His life. If it was even worth calling it that. His best friend, and his first and only love were gone. Richie missed them. The comforting words, the light touches, the laughter. He clearly felt and heard all of that. It was too much for him. The only thing that could hold him together, was the rope around his neck, that kept him up from the floor. He was floating in the end.