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To have to witness the love of your life get stabbed ruthlessly through the heart is far from something that can be gotten over, especially for a lonely man named Richie cursed with the inability to love again. Eddie was all he's ever had and now to see the one person he could ever find it in himself to trust and care for with every ounce of affection in his body get ripped away from him so brutally was the final stab to his sanity. A final blow to doom whatever fleeting feelings of normalcy left in his wounded heart. Rich was never one for expressing himself despite how outgoing he seemingly was, having one and only secret to defend he kept a bright exterior to prevent those around him from digging for the truth. But now, holding Eddie limp in his arms was enough to break down everything he had worked so hard to build up. Nothing mattered anymore, not without his beloved. Anything he thought he could protect along with his dignity was long forgotten between broken sobs and hot tears. It was laughable just how far he'd fallen in a few moments, unable to do anything other than cry, begging whatever god that had never loved him to spare him just this once.
Lights were glaring and muffled voices, ones probably shouting, became simple surroundings that could easily have continued to go unnoticed by Richie if not for a set of hands being placed on his shoulders. Bill was yelling something at him that couldn't be made out but it was enough for a few moments of realization to hit Richie. The gravity of it all hitting like a bus as he began rushing to try and get to a car or anything that could maybe solve just one of the 1000 problems surrounding him. He avoided looking down at Eddie, he knew the second that he gave into that urge would be the last straw to billow out the fleeting resolve found purely in his adrenaline. Still dazed, he continued to run as fast as his feet could carry him, the burning pain in his limbs were nothing more than a dull throb being forced down through sheer necessity. With no destination in mind he continued moving even while constantly tripping and staggering.
To him, the world had disappeared. For years he had fantasized of the feeling, of nothing mattering, only him and another hidden away far from reality. Of course he had hoped that he'd finally feel that way in a much more intimate setting. He'd dreamed of it happening at a beach during sunset as the waves gently hit the sand perfectly reflecting the golden rays that mimic angelic light while his hands are clasped tightly with another's, or other times he wished it could occur in bed on a lazy weekend morning without a single task to attend to only needing the warmth against his body and the soft sounds of breathing filling the silence of the room with his fingers slowly and contentedly play with short brown locks of hair. Though neither moment could compare to the idea of reality's dissipation and needlessness to occur on a bridge, infamous for the countless romances harboured there over the years which can only be attested to by carvings and confessions left in the old wooden fencing, surrounded by trees and the faint rustling leaves as an autumn wind quietly breezes past, none of that mattering because the only thing he had ever and would ever want was locked in his embrace that communicated with a touch that was made to be replayed endlessly in the heart and mind. The moment being the remedy to every bit of desperate yearning he'd ever felt, to resolve every time the eye contact was broken too soon, the words left unsaid, the promises never kept.
Maybe in another life could these fragile fantasies be fulfilled but in this one at least these thoughts would forever stay thoughts endlessly looping in Richie's mind of what he could have had if he wasn't such a coward. After all, if he had just faced his fears then perhaps none of this would have ever happened, but even then fate is forever cruel and to think it's inevitably can be avoided would be a pitiful delusion. Minutes passed holding Eddie tight in his arms running so fast his legs could've torn off, behind him the other losers followed either screaming to him or screaming for something but it was impossible for Richie to focus on. To say time was of the essence would be more of an understatement than calling Richie's feelings for Eddie "just a crush".
Shortly after they reached a car, whose car it was didn't matter, all that mattered was getting Eddie to the hospital in what probably needed to be negative time. The rest of the club clambered in shutting the doors quick before Beverly in the driver's seat began setting off, breaking minimum 4 traffic laws in the process. In the commotion Richie took off his hoodie and wrapped it tightly around Eddie trying his best to ignore all the blood, all the blood on his hands, on his clothes, on him, on everything...it was on everything. Arms snaking around Eddie once again he began to mutter under his breath, prayers, memories, promises, barters, whatever he could think of to keep at least some part of the body he was cradling alive beyond the fading warmth inside of the man. By the time they reached the hospital Richie couldn't even speak, his throat was dry and felt like it was going to collapse. Everything around him blurred, not that he would want it to be anything other than that, he didn't want to have to face the truth. As the group sped inside screaming for help to get a gurney, or a medic, or literally anything, Richie lagged behind stumbling as he carried Eddie with the last of his stamina depleting rapidly. ER personnel came quick holding supplies and calling every code in the book while basically tearing Eddie from Richie's grasp. He didn't want to let go, he never wanted to let go, but the fighting side of him didn't have that kind of ego anymore, especially not when the one thing keeping him going was a man on the verge of death if he wasn't already dead and gone.
Things began setting in the minutes following, but Richie was still frozen, at some point someone, maybe a nurse grabbed his hand and sat him down asking questions about Eddie which were answered automatically by him without a single thought behind them. He practically knew everything about Eddie, Eddie knew almost everything about him, that's how it had always been. For as much as Richie loved him Eddie loved him the same unbeknownst to the other. So many regrets, so many secrets untold, but were they ever really secrets?
Sure Eddie had a wife now but he never truly loved her, that was much apparent looking at how he treated Richie. Richie had always just seen him as his Eds, he wasn't someone who was just fragile around him, he didn't have to be scared around Eddie. As kids hiding away together they could love each other without the glaring eyes of others, it could just be them, it was just them, finally allowing Eddie to let go. He never planned to address his love and neither did Richie, because they were content with what they had. They had what they needed and that was for the other to be beside them, to hold them when the world was too much, to make them smile when life sucked, to make them feel like they never had before without a single chance of being able to recreate it with anyone else. If they hadn't been so damn terrified of it all things could've turned out differently allowing them to finally accept that they had never just been "best friends".
Later that night a doctor walked out of the Emergency Room entrance stating that Eddie was in critical condition, alive but being heavily monitored. Richie let out a breath he didn't know he had even been holding but didn't allow a single muscle to relax, no, not until he knew his Eddie was safe. Seconds became excruciatingly long hours that Richie could use to replay what he could've done differently. With each repeat leading him to the same conclusion that had he seen it coming he should've been the one stabbed. He should've been the one in that hospital barely to breathe. He should've been the one dying. Not Eddie, never Eddie, because Eddie would be fine without him. Eddie could move on. Eddie would live better. But Richie? Richie could never live in a world without Eddie. Richie was the one so disgustingly and hopelessly in love. Richie was the mistake, not Eddie. So why was Eddie the one who got ripped apart? Richie continued spiraling at lightning speed, each thought worse than the last as he began to become more and more aware of his surroundings, specifically he began becoming morbidly aware of the blood all over him. It looked like he had murdered someone, maybe he had honestly, if it weren't for his meddling then maybe Eddie wouldn't be in the ICU. Rich hadn't cried since he had first gotten up to run off with Eddie in his arms having felt completely empty through the car ride and now left alone despite being surrounded by the losers, he'd thought all that was left in him had already been wallowed out earlier. Even still warm tears slipped down his cheeks into his lap darkening the reddened fabric ever so slightly.
The night continued without any updates about Eddie, only worsening every single anxiety tightly wrapped inside his mind. Mike has brought him a coffee at one point that rests untouched on a waiting room table, the thought of eating or even drinking anything made Richie feel even sick, sicker than he already did from the guilt forming a pit in his stomach. Minutes turned into hours as Richie barely moved, at one point one of the hospital volunteers had him change into some old clothes saved for patients needing to leave the hospital since his were technically biohazards but aside from that he stayed firmly planted in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs anxiously tapping his foot against the floor absent of any rhythm. The sun had already begun to rise by the time a doctor came out to allow one person in, Richie immediately stood to follow the doctor and not a single person dared protest, they knew it was different with Richie and Eddie, they always had even without specifics.
Led down a hall Richie was guided into a room filled with the overwhelmingly loud monitors beeping, before leaving the doctor muttered a few words about being careful before closing the door behind as they left. Richie's heart raced and swelled with a mix of pain and relief, this was real. Eddie, was really there, alive, by some miracle. Immediately he rushed over to sit beside the bed, thanking whatever brought him such mercy. Hesitantly he grabbed Eddie's hand, they had always been fine with contact but the thought of his wife flashed through his mind before casting it aside to be "later's problem", she didn't matter, only the man lying before him did. Slowly his thumb traced circles on the other's hand mindlessly as it had had hundreds of times before. Time passed unrecognizably, whether it had been a few short fleeting moments or dragging hours wasn't a concern to be noticed by Richie until suddenly the hand that laid limp in his own suddenly tightened around his fingers. A stir from the sheets rustling ever so slightly. Eddie's eyes fluttered open. Rich caught his breath subconsciously, as if him breathing would have Eddie leave him again. Squinting, Eddie's eyes attempt to focus against the hospital fluorescents, looking over at the now crying man beside him.
"Rich..." The word came out raspy, almost as an unheard whisper, but nonetheless it caught Richie's attention.
"E-Eddie don't say anything, you don't have to, you're gonna hurt yourself." Richie stammered out attempting to not allow the tremor in his voice to leak out.
Slowly Eddie shook his head muttering two simple words "Thank you." And that was enough. Enough to know what he meant. Enough to know everything he wanted to say but couldn't. Enough to know that despite everything being with Richie was enough to fill his heart with content. Richie's mind went blank. There wasn't a single combination of words in the English language to describe what he felt, the guilt, the pain, the sorrow, and most of all the longing. But neither were there any that could describe the joy, the lightness, and pure, unadulterated, happiness filling him. What would happen after wasn't an issue that needed to be spoken about because every need they had wanted fulfilled in that moment was met with the broken smiles and muffled sobs both parties let out for whatever they needed was met by their hands being clasped so tightly and desperately. At least not all their promises were broken because the most important one that never even had to be said was to stay by each other's side and neither could ever fathom the thought of turning away this time around.