Chapter Text
Memories were slowly trickling back to Richie as he drove through the streets of his childhood home. It was a strange feeling realizing all the things he had completely forgotten about this place. When Mike had called him, he hadn't known who he was; now, he couldn't imagine not knowing. How had he gone all these years not thinking about his closest friends, the only real friends he'd ever really had? He didn't understand it, but he was here now. He was about to see them all after all these years. It wasn't often he got nervous; he spent a good portion of his life performing in front of thousands of people. But now, now that he was going to see these people after all this time, he found his heart beating really fast and he felt dizzy. He had to clutch his hands to his steering wheel to keep them from shaking. He wondered many times during his drive from the airport if maybe he should have gotten a driver because it probably wasn't safe for him to be on the road. But the restaurant was just around the corner. He was almost there. He was about to see them again. Oh boy.
He parked in the lot, taking a few moments to collect himself. This wasn't just the first time he was going to see his friends in over twenty years; this was also the first time they were going to see him. He glanced at himself in the mirror and groaned, adjusting his hair in the rearview mirror. He hadn't cared about his appearance in years. What was different now?
He took one last deep breath and exited his car. As he neared the restaurant, he saw two figures that were unfamiliar at first, but at closer inspection were as familiar as his own reflection.
“Wow,” he said when he approached the two figures hugging. “You two look amazing. What the fuck happened to me?”
The two smiled at him and they greeted each other excitedly. Even though he had known these people and felt such strong emotions towards them, there was still that awkwardness from having not spoken in so long.
“Shall we head inside?” Ben asked after a few moments.
Richie felt his heart skip a beat, though he didn’t know why. They made their way inside and were led to a back area that Mike had reserved for them. Three figures already stood inside, facing away from the entrance, and Richie’s memory must have been coming back to him because he recognized them instantly. Mike, sweet and strong, the only member of their group to stay in Derry all these years. Bill, their leader, and Richie’s childhood best friend. And Eddie...Eddie...Eddie. Richie suddenly felt that dizziness from before, only twice as strong. All of the feelings he had seemingly forgotten all came flooding back. He remembered the hammock, the fanny pack, the too-short shorts that had kept Richie laying awake at night. The boy who Richie had loved more than he knew how to process, the secret he had kept inside for so long, even long after he had left the close-minded town of Derry. It was almost too much for Richie to bear, too many memories coming back at once. He suddenly had the urge to do something outrageously stupid and obnoxious and, well, it was right there.
The three men turned at the loud sound of the gong Richie had just banged. “This meeting of the Losers Club has officially begun,” he announced.
“Look at these guys,” Eddie said. The six of them stood there staring at each other for the longest time. It was really starting to make Richie deeply uncomfortable.
“Alright,” he said. “I need to get a drink in me as soon as possible. Who’s with me?”
The other losers murmured their agreements and took their seats, Richie going last. There were two seats available: one next to Bev, and one next to Eddie. He wanted to sit next to Eddie more than he should, so he elected to take the seat next to Bev. There would be time to sort out this sudden incoming of feelings later. Right now, he needed to get absolutely plastered.
Once the waitress left with their drink orders, one last figure entered the room. "Wow, guys, you started without me?"
Mike perked up. "Stan! I was starting to worry you weren't coming!"
"I almost didn't," Stan admitted. He smiled at Richie. "But then I remembered some wise words from a good friend. Losers gotta stick together, right?"
Richie vaguely remembered saying something like that, remembered sitting on the floor of a bathroom with a crying Stan, and then in his living room a short time later. He couldn't remember why Stan had been crying, only that he had to do something to stop it. Still, he was glad to see his old friend, and for the Losers Club to be officially all there together. "Come! Sit down! We ordered you a drink."
Stan eyed the seat between Eddie and Richie, frowning. "Uh-uh. No way am I sitting in between you two assholes."
"What does that mean?" Richie asked.
"You know what it means, Trashmouth. Not enough alcohol in the world could make me sit there."
"Come on, Stanley," Bill said. "We can play musical chairs later. We want to know how you've been!"
Stan squinted his eyes, but Richie knew it was no use. Every one of them had a hard time saying "no" to Bill. It was the reason they were all friends in the first place, though Richie realized then he couldn't remember exactly how they had all come together. It was such a long time ago. Stan sighed and joined them at the table. "Fine, but the moment you two start fighting, I'm out of here. I already had to cancel plans with my wife to come."
"Holy shit, Stan. You actually found someone to put up with you?"
Stan smacked Richie, but he had a smile on his face. "Yeah. Patty. She's great. I think you guys would really like her. Are any of you married?"
Richie noticed Bev wince and wanted to ask her about it, but the waitress came in with their drinks, laying a shot in front of each of them, as well as a few more drinks. (Hey, it was a party.) Too much was happening right now and it didn't seem like the right time. "I married this actress, Audra," Bill said. "Although I'm not sure how much longer it's going last. We've been having problems lately, and taking a trip all the way across the country probably didn't help." He picked up his shot and shrugged. "Cheers."
They raised their glasses together. "Yeah, I have a wife, too," Eddie said as they took their drinks.
Richie, who had taken his shot entirely with his mouth, dropped it on the table and almost laughed. "Wait, Eddie, you got married?"
"Yeah. Why's that so fucking funny, dickwad?"
"What, to like a woman?" Richie didn't really know why he had to badger Eddie like this. It was their thing, Richie attacking everything about Eddie's life, and Eddie inevitably getting pissed about it. Richie thrived on it.
"Fuck you, bro," Eddie said.
Richie chuckled. "Fuck you!" he shouted.
"Alright, Trashmouth. What about you?" Bill asked, trying to alleviate the tension.
Bev laughed. "There's no way Richie's married."
"No, I got married," Richie said, looking towards Eddie. "Did you not hear this?" Eddie shook his head. "You didn't know I got married?"
"No."
"Yeah, no. Me and your mom are very, very happy right now."
Bill spit out his drink as everyone except Eddie laughed. Even Stan allowed himself a decent chuckle. Richie himself laughed at the annoyed expression on Eddie's face. They were falling back into their old rhythms, and Richie was loving every minute of it. Maybe this reunion wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe he could get through this dinner without letting slip the secret he had been hiding for so long. He couldn't let that happen. It would put a damper on the whole night.
Through dinner, they continued their updates on their lives as they grew increasingly less sober, Richie cracking jokes throughout. He particularly enjoyed trashing Eddie's line of work. Who could blame him? A risk analyst? Leave it to Eddie to find the most boring job in existence. He made Stan's accounting job look like an amusement park ride.
"I propose a toast to the Losers," Bev announced, and they all clinked glasses. She grabbed Richie's arm and pulled him close to her, and Richie legit thought she was going to kiss him until she shoved her chopsticks into his mouth. Everyone laughed and cheered, and Richie found himself glancing towards Eddie, who was laughing softly.
It was probably a bad thing for him to drink so much, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to make it through this night without any. Still, it made it harder to hide his feelings. At some point, he had convinced Stan to switch places with him and ended up in an arm-wrestling competition with Eddie. This is what he would do all the time as a child, finding any and all excuses to touch Eddie. The feeling of Eddie's hand in his sent tingles up his arm. When Eddie shouted, "Let's take our shirts off and kiss!" he knew it was only a joke, something to distract Richie so Eddie could win, but he wanted more than anything for it to be a real suggestion, for them to be alone in Richie's hotel room, for Eddie to feel the same way about him.
But none of that was going to happen. After winning the arm wrestle, Richie moved back to his previous seat, trying to ignore the way Stan was looking at him. They continued their bickering, but Richie felt safer with Stan between them. He knew he couldn't do anything stupid, anything he'd regret.
As the purpose of their visit was slowly revealed, Richie knew that he was stuck here for a little bit longer than just one night. That thought terrified him more than anything IT could have thrown at him. The longer he was here, the higher the chance that everything in his life would fall apart.
"I can't do this," Richie told Stan once they were back at the townhouse. "I can't be here. I need to leave." Everyone had said the same thing to Mike back at the restaurant, who had desperately to plead with them to stay. He could plead all he wanted; there was no way Richie was going through all that again.
"You have to," Stan said.
"Says who?"
"Says you. Twenty-seven years ago. You told me that if It ever came back, we would defeat him. Together. We can do it. I know we can."
"How?" Richie asked. "How could you possibly know that?"
"Because we already changed one fate." Stan looked into at him, a plea deep inside his eyes. "Twice. Don't you remember?"
He did. He couldn't believe he ever forgot the time he found Stanley in the bathroom, a razor blade in his hand, a look of hopelessness in his eyes. Then that same hopelessness a month later, when he saw the future, saw what would become of him. Yet here he was. The boy who was the most afraid out of all of them, standing here today because of Richie. How could he let fear control him when the boy who had so much of it and had overcome it stood right in front of him?
"What if something happens, and one of us dies?" Richie asked him. He once again found his eyes wandering to where Eddie stood at the bottom of the staircase, his crazy amount of luggage at his feet.
"Nothing bad can happen when we're all together," Stan said, placing a hand on Richie's shoulder. "You taught me that. But if we aren't all together..."
Richie took a deep breath. He was going to regret this. "I'm in," he said, loud enough for the other Losers to hear.
"What?" Eddie exclaimed. "What happened to not wanting to get murdered?"
"Trust me. Being in Derry, especially when there is a killer clown on the loose, is the last thing I want. But if we aren't all here to defeat It together, then something bad is going to happen, and someone is going to get hurt." He glanced at Eddie again. "I couldn't live with myself if that happened."
"He's right," Bev said. She was clutching a glass of some kind of alcohol, and Richie could see her hand shaking. "We have to stick together. If not, we will all die h-horrible deaths. I've seen it happen."
"What do you mean?" Ben asked, a concerned look on his face.
"I've been having these...dreams. Or nightmares, more like. I've seen us all die." She looked up at Stan. "I saw you die. In the bathtub. Your wrists..."
Stan looked down. "I saw it, too. Twenty-seven years ago. When Mike called...I knew it was the moment before it happened. But I stopped myself. I remembered how much you all care about me, and how much you needed me to be here. So I came."
Richie smiled at him, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. "Yeah. Thanks for showing up, Stan."
"Wait wait wait," Eddie said, stepping down from the staircase. "Why are you two seeing us all die? What makes you any different than us?"
"The deadlights," Mike said, stepping into the room.
Bill appeared from behind him. "The deadlights." He looked deep in thought. "She was the only one of us who got caught in the deadlights that day." He looked up at Stan. "Or so we thought. When the monster was sucking on your face..." He faded off.
Stan nodded. "That's why I was so scared."
"Oh, Stan, why didn't you tell any of us?" Bev asked.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Bill asked her.
"I didn't think it was real," Bev admitted. "But if I had known Stan had seen it, too."
"I was too scared," Stan said. He played with the sleeves over his wrists. "And I didn't want anyone to know that I was capable of that, that I'd almost tried it before. Richie was the only one who knew. I made him promise not to tell anyone. I didn't want you to think less of me."
"Stan..." Bev said.
"I wish you would have told us," Bill said. "We could have helped you."
"And we never would have thought less of you," Mike said. "We're the Losers Club. We support and accept each other no matter what."
"Yeah, we love you, Stan," Bev added. "I love all of you. That's what makes us different than It. We have each other. As long as we're together, nothing bad can happen."
"Alright," Eddie said, looking unhappy about everyone's sudden change in mood. "So how do we do this?"
They all instinctively looked at Bill, but it was Mike who spoke. "The Ritual of Chud."
Before they left to follow Mike on whatever crazy adventure he had planned to tell them how to defeat Pennywise, Richie pulled Bev aside. He knew it was probably pointless to know, but he had to ask.
"How do we all die?"
"What?"
"Don't play dumb with me. You saw us all die. How does it happen?"
Bev took a shaky breath. "Do you really mean, how does Eddie die?"
Richie took a step back, his face paling. "I don't...why would you...that's not what I..."
"Richie," she interrupted. "In my vision...you were with him when he died. I saw how you reacted. I see the way you act with him now. You love him." She paused, looking at him intently. "Am I wrong?"
Richie didn't say anything. That's the second time one of his friends correctly guessed how he felt about Eddie. Who else knew?
Bev put her hand on his arm, a soft look her face. There were tears in her eyes. "I'm only going to tell you because Stan telling you seemed to save him, and I want more than anything for us all to be safe. You two deserve to be happy." She took a deep breath. "I saw him kneeling over you, in this cavern, and he thought he had killed It, but he hadn't. This...this claw came out of nowhere and just went right through him and flung him across the cavern. It was awful and you...you refused to believe he was dead, you were so in denial, and that's when I realized what he really meant to you." She closed her eyes tightly as if to try to blink the memory out of existence. "I never want to see that happen."
Richie shook his head. "It won't. I won't let it. As long as we're together..."
Bev nodded. "As long as we're together," she agreed. "Let's do this."