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"Honey, go home to sleep. I'll call you if anything changes."
Beverly delicately placed her hand on Richie's shoulder. He didn't move at the touch. He felt anchored to the bed, and he didn't even think he was capable of moving.
"I'm staying until he wakes up," Richie said.
"Honey, you need to eat," Beverly said softly.
Richie ignored her. He rested his head against his forearms, which rested on the edge of Eddie's hospital bed. He placed his one hand gently against Eddie's. He squeezed his hand, hoping that there would be some response, but Eddie's hand stayed still.
"We're going to get you something to eat, Rich. Let's go, babe."
Beverly frowned at Ben, who was standing in the doorway. She turned back to look at Richie. She was torn between staying with Richie and getting him something to eat finally. It was apparent that she wouldn't be able to get him to leave the room.
She kissed Richie on the head softly. He picked up his head to look at her with a small, sad smile.
Beverly walked towards Ben. He held her tightly as the two went stepped into the hallway.
"I need you to stop being a dick and wake up," Richie said. Finally, being in the room alone, Richie felt a boldness to clear his thoughts and remove the weight he felt crushing his chest. "You don't get to save my life and then fucking die."
He placed his head back down on his arms.
"Am I dead?"
Richie's head snapped up at the raspy voice. He squeezed Eddie's hand tightly, not believing what he had just heard.
"Fuck, my chest hurts too much to be dead."
For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Richie smiled, looking at Eddie.
Eddie looked like hell, but Richie, when telling the story, would always tell people that it was the most beautiful Eddie looked. He never mentioned the bruises or the various IVs that were attached. Instead, he focused on the fact that Eddie was breathing. This moment seemed impossible hours ago.
"Eds-" Richie started.
"Please tell me that It's dead," Eddie said slowly, cutting off Richie.
"Yeah, dude, it's dead," Richie said.
Eddie closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "It's dead?"
"Yeah, look at your hand; the scars are gone. Actually, don't try to look, that's a terrible idea," Richie said. He took picked up Eddie's hand. He ran his thumb over the palm. "Can you feel that the scar isn't there? Cause it's really gone."
Eddie closed his hand around Richie's hand tightly. "Rich, I -"
"Uh, do you want me to call Myra?" Richie asked as he let go of Eddie's hand. He started to reach for his phone, but he realized that he didn't even know what her number was. He had no way to contact this woman.
Eddie shook his head. "No."
"Are you sure?"
Eddie stretched out his hand to touch Richie's hand again. "I'm positive."
Richie looked down at their hands. He liked the way that their hands felt together. It felt like he had finally found a missing puzzle piece to a puzzle he gave up on finishing years ago. He kept looking at their hands, knowing that this wouldn't last. He would enjoy these last few moments with Eddie.
"You can't ever scare me like that again," Rich said.
"That's a weird way to thank someone for saving your life, asshole," Eddie said.
Guilt and relief flooded through Richie in that moment. He was relieved that Eddie remembered how he wound up in this hospital bed but also felt like he held some of the blame. If he had done something reckless, Eddie wouldn't have needed to be stitched back together. Richie brought Eddie's hand up to his lips and kissed his hand lightly. "Thank you. God, your mom would hate me so much if she was still alive."
"She always hated you. She always said you were going to be the death of me." Eddie laughed. "She was almost right."
"I appreciate it, but it was one of the dumbest fucking things you've done." Richie held Eddie's hand close to his face. He lightly kissed Eddie's hand again. There weren't words to express what he felt at the moment. He could put together a comedy routine, but he never before had to figure out what to say to the handsome man who saved his life.
"Rich," Eddie said softly. "I love you."
"How much morphine do they have you on?"
"I lost you once, and I couldn't lose you again," Eddie said.
Richie closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look at Eddie in this moment. Part of him so scared that this wasn't real. That he would open his eyes, and it would that fucking clown in the bed waiting to taunt him one last night.
"I love you, and you don't need to say anything."
Richie kissed Eddie's hand again and kissed his palm, where the scar would have been from all those years prior. Richie thought that if that pain could be removed, then maybe this moment was real. They could attempt to move on from the pain that caused them to miss almost thirty years together.
Richie wanted to kiss Eddie passionately, but he thought that might have to wait for when he didn't go through life-saving surgery.
Richie said nothing as he continued to kiss Eddie's hand. He felt how soft Eddie's were, and slowly moved his lips to Eddie's wrist. His kisses trailed up Eddie's arm; each kiss was a thank you for saving his life. At the moment, he didn't have the words, so he just continued his way up to his collarbone.
Eddie moaned quietly as Richie kissed his neck. Richie smiled as he kissed Eddie's neck another time. He hoped that Eddie could feel the smile.
"I can't remember a time where I didn't love you."
Richie finally looked at Eddie. He looked at his eyes and had never seen more beautiful eyes in his life. The sadness that he thought was always in them was replaced with love.
Richie gently kissed the bandage on Eddie's face. He then brought his hand to Eddie's face and noticed that they were so close he could feel the warmth from Eddie's breath. Richie hesitated for a moment.
"I love you, Eds," Richie whispered before finally kissing Eddie Kaspbrak after being in love with him for over thirty years. He had imagined their first kiss, but this beat any of the movies he had created his mind. Finally, the boy who was convinced he'd never find love found it in a hospital room.