Richie is very much aware of the troubled glances that what's left of the losers keep throwing at him. He wishes that they would just say whatever it is they're thinking, because he can't stand to try to guess.

He knows that he's been weird since they arrived at the hospital for Eddie, he's willing to admit that to himself. He can't even just use the excuse of being concerned for his friend, who endured a nearly fatal stab in the chest, because his worry is so clearly past that of the rest of his friends. Richie scoffs to himself, earning again the stares of his concerned friends.

God, he must look crazy. It's been almost seven hours since they've arrived at the hospital and he still can't manage to stop shaking. He's the only one of them that hasn't left briefly to take a shower, too, so he knows he still smells like gross piss water and clown intestines. He can't bring himself to leave. Not until he knows if Eddie's okay.

Or not okay.

The thought plagues the back of his mind and he forces himself to swallow the lump in his throat so that he doesn't cry again.

"Richie?" Mike calls out, tentatively.

Richie looks up at his friends who are all sitting in chairs, while he stays planted on the floor, back against a wall. He can't stand the looks on their faces. His mind briefly travels back to his encounter with It when he was thirteen.

I know your secret.

Your dirty little secret.

"I'm gay." He surprises even himself by saying. He doesn't want to take it back, though. It feels good, coming out of his mouth. Saying out loud the words that he's always been too scared to admit. "I'm gay and I'm also in love with Eddie." He mumbles, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. "Have been since we were kids."

It's silent for a minute, everyone digesting the information. Beverly is the first to speak. "Oh, honey..." She begins to stand, intending to make her way over to Richie, when the doors to the OR open and the surgeon walks into the waiting room.

"Friends or family of Edward Kaspbrak?"

Richie shoots up, terrified of what the doctor is about to tell them. "Here!" He says, too loud.

"We're all here." Bill rests a hand on Richie's shoulder, and it's so much more comforting than Richie would have anticipated. He reaches up and grips onto Bill's hand like a lifeline.

"He's stable," the surgeon announces, and Richie lets himself cry once more, thick tears cutting fresh trails through the dirt on his cheeks.

"Thank fuck." He breathes out.

"For now." She says, and a sick feeling returns to Richie's stomach. "There's a possibility that-"

"What are his chances?" Bev interrupts, and Richie's grateful. Hearing what might happen to Eddie overnight would probably make him throw up.

"That he makes it through the night? Right now we're looking at roughly sixty-seven percent."

"That's...That's not bad." Richie claps his hands together, trying his hardest to stop being so vulnerable. "It's...It's not great, but it's not bad." He wipes his cheeks. "Can we see him?" He asks, knowing that it's wishful thinking and that she's going to say no even before the question leaves his mouth.

She shakes her head. "If all goes well tonight, you can see him in the morning when he wakes up, one at a time."

The losers thank her and turn to each other to discuss overnight plans.

"I'm staying here." Richie states, matter of fact, as if any of them would argue. "I need to be here when he wakes up."

"I'll stay, too." Bill says. "You guys c-can all go back to the m-motel and get s-some sleep."

Mike begins to protest, but Bill shuts him down. "Mike, if any of us deserve to rest r-right now, it's you."

A ghost of a smile appears on Mike's lips. He shifts his attention to Richie. "Why don't you come back to my place and shower? You'll feel better when you do."

Richie glances towards the OR doors. "I don't know."

"You know Eddie wouldn't want to see you covered in gray-water." Ben comments, laughing lightly. This convinces Richie.

"Okay, I, um," he looks at Bill. "I'll be back. Call me if there's any updates, okay?"

"Do you e-even have your phone?"

Richie slaps all of his pockets, all turning up empty. "Shit. I'll be back soon then."

-

He's back within the hour, freshly showered and wearing clean clothes. Mike was right, it did make him feel a little better.

Richie sits down in a chair next to Bill. His eyes feel heavy but he's too scared to sleep. He needs to be here. He needs to be awake.

"How do you feel?" Bill asks, startling him.

"Okay," Richie's leg is bouncing. "I guess."

"H-here are your glasses." Bill hands them over. "I-I managed to get all of his blood off. Th-They're still cracked though."

Richie cringes at the thought of the blood that had been splattered into them just 12 hours earlier. Eddie's blood. He honestly hadn't even realized that he couldn't see properly. Too lost in flashbacks.

He utters a thank you and they're both quiet for a few minutes until Bill clears his throat. "Do you need to talk? About w-what you said before the doctor came out?"

No. He wants to spit. Because he doesn't. At least he thinks he doesn't. Fuck, he doesn't know anything anymore. "I don't really know what there is to say about it."

"Y-you said you were in l-love with him when we were kids?"

Richie feels his face heat up and he wants to sink into his chair and disappear. He feels like a little kid. "Yeah." Is all he says back.

Bill takes his time replying, choosing his words carefully. "Y-You know that w-we would never j-judge you for something like th-that, right?" He bumps their knees together and places his hand over Richie's.

Part of Richie is surprised that Bill is still engaging in physical contact even after finding out. He'd always assumed that people would want to keep their distance, afraid they might catch whatever dirty diseases that people like him carried. He tries not to think about what Eddie would say if he found out.

"I missed him," He says, embarrassed. "during those twenty-seven years. I didn't know it was him I missed, but there was always a hole in my memories that I was aware of." He thinks sorely of his random hookups and one night stands, all of whom he forced to sign an NDA. All short, petite men that had dark hair and pretty eyes. He thinks of his manager, who he can now recognize bears a striking resemblance to Eddie. Richie looks at Bill, making eye contact for the first time tonight. "Do I sound insane?"

Bill shakes his head. "N-no. I know what you mean." Richie waits for him to elaborate, but he never does, so he decides not to press the matter.

It's so late, and Richie is so tired. All he can think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie...

-

He blinks and he's back in It's lair.

His head is throbbing and It is choking on the spear. Eddie is over him, grinning and excitedly shouting that he killed It.

No. Richie thinks. It wasn't real. It was a trick. We didn't kill It yet and Eddie is over top of me again and-

He thinks too long. He doesn't have time to roll them both away. Eddie is impaled right in front of his eyes.

"Richie?" Eddie whispers.

He can't scream. He can't say anything.

"Richie?" He repeats, but it doesn't sound like Eddie. It almost sounds like-

"Richie! W-wake up!"

His eyes snap open and he sees Bill in front of him.

He's sweating and his heart is racing. "Eddie?" he asks.

"Yeah, man, Eddie's awake. H-he wants you." Bill notices his sporadic breathing. "You okay?"

Richie nods and stands up, shaking. "He made it through the night?"

A nurse is standing a few feet away from them, waiting. She nods and smiles, asking him to follow her. Richie is overrun with relief and trails after the nurse, who leads him to Eddie's room.

He thanks the nurse quietly as she leaves and he stands in the doorway for a minute. Eddie looks...bad. He hooked up to all sorts of machines and there's a tube down his throat. His eyes are open, but barely. He's staring into space, unaware of Richie's presence.

Be brave. Richie tells himself, and knocks on the door, lightly. "Hey Eddie Spaghetti."

Eddie's eyes flick over to him and, Richie thinks he may be imagining it, but he swears that his eyes light up.

Richie sits down in the chair that's next to the bed. He wants to reach out for Eddie's hand, but refrains. "Uh...you look...the hole is gone." He points to his stitched up cheek.

Eddie grunts and rolls his tired eyes. He furrows his brows, seemingly asking Richie a question.

Richie understands. "It's dead, Eds."

Relief washes over Eddie's face and he sits back a little. Richie hadn't even noticed he'd been leaning up. He looks so tired. "You can sleep, Eddie. Don't strain yourself, I'll come back when you wake up." He stands and leans down, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. He goes to leave when Eddie grabs his hand, eyes frantic. "You don't want me to leave?"

Eddie shakes his head and Richie's heart swells. "Okay." He sits back down, not letting go of Eddie's hand because it was Eddie that initiated the hand-holding. "Bill's here, too. Do you want to see him?"

Eddie's eyes are already closed as he shakes his head no.

"Okay." Richie whispers.

He sits with him for about forty-five minutes when a nurse enters the room and informs him that it's time for Eddie's bandages to be changed.

"Can you make sure he knows that you made me leave?" Richie asks. "I don't want him to think I abandoned him."
She smiles and says of course, and Richie makes his way back to the waiting room. The rest of the gang is out there when he arrives. They're all smiling and laughing and joking, an obvious air of optimism now that they know Pennywise is dead and Eddie is alive. Richie lets himself smile and greets them all, genuinely happy, for the first time in a long time.

"How's Eddie?" Bev asks.

"He's tired, but he was happy to hear that, uh, that It's gone." The others nod in agreement. "He mostly slept. The nurse came in to change his bandages. She said we can start taking turns seeing him again after she's done."

He waits for someone to joke on him for taking up nearly a whole hour of visitation, but it never comes. That makes him slightly uncomfortable. Like his confession is just hanging over them all in a cloud of awkwardness. He feels on edge.

He sits down into a chair next to Mike, who offers him a smile. "You must feel a lot better, right?"

"Don't you?" Richie asks.

"Of course, but it's different for you. You're-"

"-in love with him." Richie interrupts and looks away. "You guys can stop with all the pity. I'm fine."

"I was going to say that you're his best friend, but that too, I guess."

"Oh."

Mike leans back, stretching. "And what do you mean, 'pity'?"

"You know what I mean." Richie groans. "'Poor Trashmouth: In love with his childhood best friend who is straighter than a ruler.'"

"No one thinks that way, Rich." Ben says. Richie looks up to see that all of his friends have now joined the conversation.

"Straighter than a ruler?" Beverly laughs.

"What's so funny?"

"Richie," Bev sits down next to him. "If it makes you feel any better at all, I always sort of knew."

Richie's face twists in surprise. "Are you joking?"

She shakes her head no and looks up at Bill. "Y-yeah, I always h-had a feeling too."

"There's no way. I hid it so well!"
"If you call making countless jokes about Eddie's mom hiding it well, then sure. But you were the most obnoxious asshole to everyone, but it was something special with Eddie." Bev smiles and laughs again while Richie buries his face in his hands.

"Did everyone know?"

"I honestly had no clue." Ben says, completely serious, eliciting a fit of laughs from the losers.

Richie cracks a smile. He's told them. He's lived out his biggest childhood fear and the world...just kept spinning. His friends still love him. They still joke on him but they are always laughing with him, never at him. "Just don't tell him, okay? I don't...I don't want him to know."

"We would never." Bev assures and the rest agree.

They all continue to joke around, moving onto less serious topics, and it's so nice. Richie feels happy.

The nurse comes back around 20 minutes later and notifies them that they can begin visitation again. Richie stands up immediately, before remembering that he already had his turn, and sits back down, cheeks pink.

"Y-you can go back in, Richie." Bill says.

"Yeah, we all know he'd want to see you the most out of all of us." Mike nods.

"No, uh, it's okay. I got to see him. He probably wants to see you all and make sure that, you know, the clown didn't eat one of you or something."

He sits down and waits patiently until one by one all of the losers have visited him. Ben is the last to come out. "Man, he does not hide disappointment well."

"What do you mean?" Richie asks.

"He probably means that it is so obvious it's not us he wants in there right now." Mike laughs.

Richie's stomach does something weird.

"Here." Mike hands him his phone, which is cracked like his glasses, but still seems to work fine. "Why don't you stay here during the rest of the visiting hours? I'll come pick you up afterwards. You can text me when you're ready. Sleep in a real bed."

"Sure, I mean, are you guys okay with that?"

No one protests. They all hug Richie goodbye and then he heads back into Eddie's room in the ICU.

Eddie's eyes are closed, but they flutter open once he hears Richie enter the room. "Hey Eds." He sits down in the chair. "I can't stay very long. Visiting hours are almost up. Not much time since you're in critical care."

Eddie is, obviously, silent.

"Um," Richie pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Here, you can type on it. Unless your hands hurt."

Eddie takes his phone and types out slowly, his motor skills not functioning completely normal yet. When he's finished, he turns the phone towards Richie.

Your glasses are cracked.

Richie raises a brow. "Yeah, it's no big deal." Eddie types again.

Gotta get them fixed so you don't have to be scared.

Richie's breath catches in his throat as a sudden memory from when he was twelve pops up. When he confided to Eddie that he's scared without his glasses and he's scared when he can't see and he's scared of the dark.

Eddie basically died and came back and he's worried about Richie and his stupid glasses. God he loves him so much. "It's okay. I can see okay."

Eddie nods and holds out the phone to hand it back.

"What, that's all you had to say?" Richie laughs and Eddie just nods again, fighting to keep his eyes open, but he can't. "You can sleep. Don't feel guilty." He takes a chance and tries to hold his hand. Eddie reciprocates. "Eddie I..." He trails off. He can't do it. He can't do it. He can't do it. "We love you."

He stays until Eddie falls asleep and the nurse tells him that he has to leave.

Richie ends up just spending the night in the waiting room again, not being able to stomach the idea of leaving Eddie all by himself.

-

The next couple of days are more or less the same. Richie only leaves to shower at Mike's and visits Eddie as much as he's allowed to, which isn't much at all. Turns out only "next of kin" is allowed in his room 24/7, and Richie is embarrassed to admit that he seriously considered telling the doctors that he was Eddie's husband.

On day four, Eddie is stable enough for the breathing tube to be removed and instead replaced by a nose cannula. This also means that he can move out of ICU and into his own room.

This also means that the losers get unrestricted access.

All five of them show up at the same time, bearing balloons, stuffed animals, movies, decks of cards, and all other types of entertainment to keep Eddie occupied for the duration of his stay.

Richie is so excited to hear his voice again. He can barely remember what Eddie sounds like. All he ever hears, in his memory and his dreams, is a horror-stricken Eddie whispering his name.

They all wait for Eddie to say something, not sure of his mood. He still doesn't look great. He clears his throat, and says in a scratchy voice: "Meeting of the Losers Club officially in session?"

They fall into old habits immediately, laughing and cutting up. They get noise complaints from the nurses twice, but can barely find it in themselves to care. They're all just so happy to be back together and safe for the first time in twenty-seven years.

"Oh!" Mike says, excitedly, interrupting an argument between Bill and Ben. "Eddie, Richie has something he'd like to say to you."

Richie's heart speeds up for a moment, before remembering that he had actually talked to Mike about something else about Eddie that had been eating him up inside. "Right, yeah. Um, I apologize for nominating you to be sacrificed and shit. Hindsight's 20/20, you know?"

Eddie laughs, loudly, for the first time since they'd been together at the Jade of the Orient. His laugh turns to coughs and it's clear everything hurts, but his smile doesn't go away. "You been sitting on that?"

"Since the moment It stabbed you." Richie says, jokingly, but he's dead serious. Eddie's smile disappears at the memory and he realizes it's far too soon to be making jokes about their encounter. "You're still short, though."

Eddie scoffs. "5'9 is not short, asshole. It's average height for-" They begin bickering and it starts to feel normal.

Hours go by and eventually Richie is the last one left. Mike didn't bother offering up his place to stay this time, but he did provide Richie with a pillow and a blanket, which he was very grateful for.

Richie is still talking absent-mindendly as he sets up the pillow and blanket on the couch that is in the room.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks and Richie freezes.

"I just thought..." He falters a little bit. "I figured you might want someone to stay with you tonight, or something. I don't have to." He's so embarrassed he wants to rip the blanket off the couch and shove it in the trash can.

"No, that's, uh, that's fine. Thank you."

"Yeah, man. Of course." Richie sits down, awkwardly.

They fall into a silence that's not entirely uncomfortable but Richie's also not sure he'd call it pleasant.

Eddie seems to be lost in his head.

"What are you thinking about?"

"My wife." Eddie answers, without hesitation, and it's like a punch in the face for Richie.

"Shit, dude. That's right, you're married." he says, like he hasn't been thinking about that fact since the second he found out after they had all reunited. "Do you...want to call her or something? You can use my phone."

"No." Eddie says, abruptly, before clearing his throat. "No, I'll call her tomorrow, maybe. I don't really," he swallows. "I don't really want to talk to her at all."

Richie forces himself not to grin. "Why don't we just get some sleep?" he asks, and Eddie agrees. "Think they're going to kick me out?"

Eddie scoffs. "They better not try. I'll kick someone's ass if I have to."

"Yeah, you're in a great condition to do that." Richie rolls his eyes, standing up and going into the bathroom, reemerging after a few seconds with a small disposable cup and a toothbrush. "Here." He holds it out to Eddie.

"What is it?"

"It's mouthwash and water mixed together. I looked up on google how to brush a bedridden person's teeth and this is what it said."

Eddie seems to be at a loss of words. "Thanks, Rich." He manages to get out, earnestly.

The nurse comes in to check on Eddie and change his bandages. Richie observes as she does this, the color draining from his face after he gets an actual look at the wound.

How could Eddie have survived that?

He stays silent after the nurse leaves.

"Can you stop being this way?" Eddie frowns.

"What?"

"You're being all quiet and shit, it's annoying. Can you just, make an inappropriate joke or something so I can tell you to shut the fuck up?"

Richie thinks. "I fucked your mom?"

Eddie looks away, angry. "You didn't even try."

"Yeah, well you almost made those your last words. You didn't try real hard then, either."

"That was different."
"In what fucking way, dude? You really think the last words out of your mouth that I wanted to hear was a dumb ass joke?" He lets out a choked sound, tearing up. Eddie is horrified. "I thought I wasn't gonna be fast enough. I was so scared I was going to let you die."

"Richie, what happened wasn't your fault."

"It was me you were saving from the deadlights."

"I wouldn't change anything." Eddie tilts his head. "If saving you meant me dying, I'd still do it." Richie doesn't really know how to process this information. It's so real and he's so uncomfortable and Eddie's looking at him like that. "Don't cry, Rich. I'm okay now. We're gonna be fine."

Richie can't help but think that as long as they're just friends, he himself is never going to be completely okay.

-

Richie pretends to keep sleeping after the sound of Eddie's voice wakes him up. It takes him a few seconds to process what's going on, but eventually it registers to him that Eddie is on the phone, and he's in an argument.

"No, Myra, I'm serious." Richie can hear the sound of a woman yelling on the other end. "I'll have my lawyer drop off paperwork tomorrow...Myra...Myra...I don't need help." Eddie sighs, exasperated. "You remember that comedian, Richie Tozier?"
Richie's heart speeds up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah, well he's actually my childhood best friend and we reconnected and he's going to be taking care of me while I heal."

The two of them hadn't discussed an arrangement like that, but Richie isn't about to act like that bothers him. He'd be more than happy to take care of Eddie for as long as he needed him too. And then some. He thinks.

"I'm not making shit up...Because I don't love you, Myra." Eddie spits. "I don't even know if I ever did. You just...you're just..." She's going ballistic on the phone. "I want a divorce. I've already talked to my lawyer. He'll be in contact with you soon." Eddie hangs up. The room is silent for a minute, before Eddie speaks again. "I know you're awake, dipshit."

"No I'm not."

"Richie, if I were really worried about you hearing that I would've asked you to leave the room."

Richie opens his eyes and sits up, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Here." Eddie hands him his own phone. "Sorry to take it without asking, I just couldn't stand to wait any longer."

Richie puts it in his pocket. "So, a divorce, huh?"

"Yeah." Eddie picks at a thread on the blanket that's laying over him. "I've been thinking about it for a while, actually. Just never had the courage to do it until now."

"What changed?" Richie asks.

Eddie meets his eyes, but doesn't say anything. He just looks at him, intently. Richie doesn't even begin to know how to decipher what that means. He can't mean it how he thinks, right?

Richie breaks their stare. "Has a nurse come in yet?"

Eddie clears his throat. "Yeah, it's like noon."
"Huh?" Richie looks out the window. It's been raining and it's gloomy out, giving the illusion that it's earlier than it really is.

"Bev called. She said that they're all gonna come up. They shouldn't be long, actually. I think some of them are gonna have to leave soon. Get on with the rest of their lives."

"Or begin new ones." Richie says, deep in thought.

He waits until the rest of the Losers get there to begin his freak out. They all greet Eddie and talk for a few minutes before Richie makes up an excuse to get him and Bill out of the room.

"Wh-what's g-going on?" Bill asks, concerned.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk."

Bill eyes him, wearily. "You l-look crazy."

"Okay, yeah. I'm freaking out. Eddie's getting a divorce." Richie whispers, even though they're way out of earshot from Eddie's room.

"What?" Bill's eyebrows go up in surprise and he looks around them. "Sh-should you be telling me this?"

Richie shrugs and runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. "I don't know, man. I had to talk to someone or else I was gonna go insane." He thinks back to his question. What changed? "He looked at me this morning, Bill."

"He l-looked at you?"

"Yeah, like...like this certain way. Like the way I look at him when I think nobody is watching."

"H-he looked at you like that?" Bill asks, shocked.

"What, you know what look I'm talking about?" Richie shouldn't be surprised that he's never as subtle as he thinks he is. "Oh! And he told his wife on the phone that I'm going to be taking care of him."

"Are you?"

"I don't know! We never discussed that." Richie's heart is beating at a rate that can not be healthy.

"Okay." Bill considers everything Richie's told him. "St-start there, then. Ask h-him about why h-he told his w-wife that."

Richie makes Bill subtly get everyone out of the room so that he can take his advice. "So, about me taking care of you?"

Eddie flushes. "Oh, you mean what I said on the phone? Don't worry about that. I just said that to piss her off. She hates you." He chuckles.

Richie's too anxious to bring up the fact that Eddie had apparently heard of Richie even when he forgot who he was. "Well, I was thinking, Eds-"
"Don't call me that."
"I was thinking that since you're gonna need help, you know, getting around and changing your bandages and stuff, you could maybe, I don't know...I've got a spare bedroom, you know? You could come with me to L.A., we could live out our teenage dream of rooming together."
Eddie stares at him, lips pursed. Richie gets flashbacks to when they were kids and he'd make that face to help with his 'asthma.' "I don't know, Rich. L.A. is like, twelve-thousand miles away from my current job."
"I'm sure you can find a boring risk-analysis job in California, too." Richie tries his hardest to not sound like he's pleading. Two hours ago he didn't even think this was an option. He'd assumed that Eddie would just go home, back to his wife, and then eventually lose contact with the losers again because of her. "Come on Ed's. You know you can't live on your own in the beginning. You're going to need help getting around and going to physical therapy and getting food. I could help you!"

Eddie considers it for a few seconds. "Is your place gross?"

"I'm a grown man, Eddie, I know how to clean." Richie feigns being offended, while subconsciously making a note in his head to text his housekeeper to do a deep deep deep clean of his entire apartment.

"Right." Eddie rolls his eyes, but smiles. "Alright, that sounds great. Thank you, Richie, really. It's really nice of you to offer."

And there's that look again, the one that drives Richie up a wall. "Yeah, well," he takes his glasses off and begins cleaning them with the edge of his shirt. "I owe ya."

-

Eddie was right, the others are leaving. Bev and Ben are the first to go, and they reveal to them as they're saying goodbye that the two of them are going to be living together.

"I'm getting a divorce." Beverly says, no hint of regret in her voice.

Eddie offers a shy smile. "Me too."

Bev just laughs. "I'm glad that at least something good came from all this."

"If you ask me," Ben takes her hand. "a lot of good came from all this."

Richie gives a wolf-whistle. "Holy shit. You two finally shacking up? I've been waiting for this day for like twenty-seven years now."

"Yeah, I know that feeling." Beverly gives Richie a pointed look and he glares at her, praying that Eddie doesn't figure out what her expression means. "But anyway, we're gonna miss you two. We'll keep in touch. Eddie, once your new phone comes in we'll add you to the group chat."

Richie had ordered a new phone for Eddie once he realized that he'd actually lost his down in Neibolt. He didn't tell him until after he'd bought it so he couldn't say no.

"I'm looking forward to it." Eddie grins, and Richie can tell he's trying his best not to grimace in pain because of his cheek.

Bill is next to say goodbye. "M-my wife has been f-f-freaking out and so is my pu-publisher and my agent a-and the director and..." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I-I'm fucked right n-now. A-and how am I s-supposed to explain m-my st-stutter?"

"What, you didn't have it outside of Derry?" Richie asks, finding it difficult to imagine Big Bill without his stutter.

Bill shakes his head. "M-maybe it'll g-go away again."

"Yeah, this town is cancer, dude." Eddie says. "The further away we all get from here the better."

Richie feels a little sick to his stomach, but manages to get his question out. "Mike, do you think we're gonna forget each other again?"

Mike exhales, clearly having been asked this before, but he's not annoyed, he just looks pensive. "I can't say for sure, but I think we'll be able to remember."

"We'll text all the time." Eddie reminds them.

"Right." Mike agrees.

"E-Eddie, I was thinking," Bill glances at Richie for a brief second. "Y-you're welcome to st-stay with me once y-you're out i-if you need somewhere to. S-since you're getting a d-divorce, and all."

"Oh, well actually Richie offered up his spare bedroom, and also he doesn't have a wife for me to be a third wheel around." Richie cringes when Eddie says the word wife. "But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it."

"I'll be leaving soon, too." Mike smiles and Richie notices how carefree he looks compared to when they all first saw each other again. Even in his memories of them as kids, Mike always looked a little worried. Like he was always waiting for something to go wrong. It's refreshing to see him look so at peace. "I've been saving up for this day. I'm gonna go to Florida first."

"Gotta honor little Mikey's wish, huh?"

"Yeah." Mike laughs. "After that, I'm gonna go everywhere else. I'm gonna wait until you're released though," he says, turning his attention to Eddie. "So that way you guys can still use my apartment."

"You don't have to do that, Mike." Richie tries to interject, but Mike is quick to shoot him down.

"Really, Richie, I do. To be honest, it's easy to tell you haven't showered in two days." They all laugh loudly.

"Okay, okay. Message received. I'll go shower at Mike's."

Richie is pleased to find that Ben, Beverly, and Bill all texted the group chat after their flights landed the next day. All of them saying something along the lines of:

I still remember.

He's been so terrified that he's going to wake up one morning and not have any idea who the strange man that's living in his house is.

He can't imagine forgetting Eddie again. He's certain that if he were to, there would be an even bigger hole in his memories that yearned for something he'd never find.

Richie tries his best not to think about the fact that actually knowing who Eddie is and not being able to have him might be worse than the way things used to be. When he just knew he was looking for someone but didn't know who.

The days that pass are more or less the same. They watch tv, they play card games, they bicker, they facetime the Losers...It's nice. Eddie looks happy, and Richie is glad. He just wishes he could feel the same way.

The last night that they spend there before Eddie is cleared to be discharged, they stay up late talking.

The room is dark, save for the dim glow of the muted tv, which Richie attributes to their vulnerability.

"I didn't remember my mom." Eddie says, begrudgingly. "But I guess I still knew her. I ran right back to her. Or someone that was just like her, anyway."

Richie feels bad that he can't think of anything to say, but Eddie continues talking despite his silence.

"I never...I never loved her. I know that now. The same way I didn't really love my mom, once I got to a certain age. It was just, it was all I ever knew. And I got trapped. For so long I was trapped by my mom and her fucked up Munchausen, or whatever the hell it was." Eddie pauses for a moment, thinking. "I was so embarrassed when I saw all of you again. When I finally remembered and realized that I was fucking dating my mother."

"None of us judged you, Eds. I mean, look at Bev. She was no better. I think we all held onto something screwed up from our past, subconsciously." Richie is sitting in the chair next to Eddie's bed. He wants to grab his hand.

"What did you hold onto?" Eddie asks.

Fuck. Richie knows he set himself up for this, and for some reason he can't lie to Eddie, and he also doesn't think it's fair to avoid the question either. He swallows hard, trying to comfort himself, his mind whispering for him to be brave. The sentiment is so much easier said than done.

"Um," Richie's not exactly sure how to start this off. He wishes that Eddie just would've been in the room when he blurted it out to the other losers. That was much easier. "You know how it's 2016, right? And people are, for the most part, pretty tolerant. Like, especially twitter and stuff."

"Tolerant about what?"

"Just..." He can't outright say it yet. "Just about people that are different."

Eddie nods. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, I've always sort of known that people would be okay if I, if I were to admit something online, for the most part anyway. Some people would probably even praise me-"

"Like if you were to admit what, Rich?"

Richie looks down at his lap. "Eddie, I...I'm..." He struggles so hard to get the words out. He takes one last deep breath. "I'm gay." He waits for Eddie to say something, or to react at all, really, but he doesn't. He doesn't do anything. So Richie just keeps on on talking. "Yeah, so anyways, I always thought that the public would be okay, kinda, if I came out. But, that summer with the clown. It knew. I don't know how it knew but it did, and, just like it terrorized you with the leper, It terrorized me with my secret. It found me after this boy I liked had just called me a fag, and It threatened to tell. It told me that everyone would be disgusted and It threatened to tell, Eddie." Richie has to take a moment to wipe under his eyes, where tears have begun to fall despite his best efforts.. "That fear of people knowing, I guess manifested its way into my adult life. I never let myself be happy because I was so scared."

He lets himself look up, and is surprised to find that Eddie's face is empathetic. "Richie," he reaches out and takes his hand. "Thank you for telling me. That sounds...God, man, that sounds fucking awful."

"Yeah." Richie laughs, tears still rolling down his cheeks. "It fucking was. It is, I mean. I'm still not out. You and the losers are the only ones that know."

"You told the others?" Eddie asks, looking a little hurt. "How come you told them and not me?"

"You were kinda in the middle of being operated on."

"How did it even come up?" Eddie asks, and of course Richie can't answer that, because it really didn't come up.

"I honestly don't know." Is his final answer.

"You're my best friend, Rich."

"Yeah Eds, I know." And God, does he know.

"If you have anything else you want to tell me, you can." Eddie squeezes his hand. Richie meets his eyes and feels like he could melt under Eddie's gaze.

"I was kinda worried you wouldn't want to live with me once you found out. You were so scared of AIDS when you were young, I always thought that if you ever knew about me you'd hate me for always invading your personal space and stuff. I felt so guilty everytime I stood next to you." Richie wonders why the first look on Eddie's face is disappointment before sadness.

"I'm sorry, Richie. Fuck, I did always rant about AIDS, too, didn't I? That was...that was-"

"It was your mom." Richie interjects. "I know. I know that now, I don't hold that against you."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Eddie asks, and Richie just can't seem to figure out why he sounds so hopeful.

"No," Richie says, unsure. "That's about all I got."

-

Mike drops the two of them off at the airport after Eddie is discharged. Richie is ecstatic to find out that they get to skip all of the lines since Eddie is wheel-chair bound. He and Eddie argue almost the entire time they're in the airport, all in good fun, all the way up until they're in their seats.

"Leave it to you to profit from my injury." Eddie grumbles.

"I don't see why it's such an issue, Eds." Richie laughs and pinches his good cheek, just like when they were kids. "You really want to wheel around the airport alone while I'm stuck in TSA for hours?"

"You're so dramatic." He huffs.

Eddie is embarrassed about having to be lifted up and helped into his seat by Richie. "This is bullshit." He laments. "I can walk."

"Like ten feet!" Richie laughs. "Not to mention every time you did at the hospital you had to change your bandages because you'd start bleeding again."

"That's better than you having to pick me up like I'm a princess and you're some knight in shining armor."

"I know Eds, but as soon as we get to L.A. we're gonna call up the finest physical therapist out there and we're gonna get you on your feet in no time."

"Don't call me Eds." Eddie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling anyway.

During the plane ride, Eddie falls asleep with his head resting on Richie's shoulder. Richie has a mental freak out and does his best to stay as still as possible. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and leans his head against Eddie's too. He tries not to fall asleep as well, so that he can actually be awake and savor the moment, but Eddie's hair is soft and he's so warm and his breathing is so relaxing.

They don't wake up until the stewardess alerts them that the plane will be landing soon. Richie can feel his face get hot with embarrassment, but Eddie just smiles at him and fuck there is that look again. Richie could die.

"Whelp," Richie says, unlocking his door and wheeling Eddie inside. "Here it is. My casa tu casa, or whatever."

"It's clean." Eddie observes.

"Yeah dude, I told you. Grown man, remember?"

"You had someone clean it." Eddie says, borderline smirking.

"Of course. The last thing I need you to do is freak out about dust mites." Richie takes Eddie over to his spare bedroom. "This is your room now. You can add all your 'Eddie-touches' if you want. It's pretty boring right now."

"Yeah." Eddie agrees.

Richie messes up his hair. "I'll go get all your bags. It's a good thing that you packed for Derry like you were leaving to go to China for six months."

"Yeah, well," Eddie cranes his neck to look up at RIchie. "I never really planned on going back."

"Really? What was your plan?"

Eddie looks down. "I couldn't tell you."

Richie leaves to get all of their bags. When he returns, Eddie requests privacy so that he can make some phone calls.

"No problem, man. I'm gonna go to the grocery store to get some food. I don't have anything here. What, uh, which allergies were real?" He asks, cautiously, trying not to offend.

Eddie just laughs, though. "Cashews. And I'm not fond of gluten, but it won't kill me."

"Got it." Richie grins, because it starts to hit him that they're really going to be living together.

When Richie gets back from the store an hour and a half later, he's surprised to find that Eddie is still in his room, on the phone. Richie is able to get all of the groceries put away and change out of his clothes into some comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt by the time Eddie comes out of his room.

"You good?" Richie asks.

Eddie shrugs, rubbing his forehead. "I'm fucking exhausted."

"Who all did you have to call?"

Eddie groans. "My lawyer, Myra, my boss, a physical therapy office...My first appointment is on Monday, by the way."

"Monday," Richie nods. "Alright. Blacking out my schedule now."

Eddie frowns. "Thanks, Rich. I'm sorry you have to keep your life on pause for me."

"Hey, don't worry about that at all. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to help." They stare at each other for a minute, Richie's heart beating wildly out of his chest. "Eddie, I..." He almost says it. He almost admits it. But he refrains. "I'm gonna get some sleep. Do you need anything?"

"Oh." Eddie is still frowning. "I guess help getting ready and into bed."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, if you're not ready I can stay up-"

"No, Rich, it's fine. I'm tired, too."

Richie helps Eddie get changed and get his teeth brushed, doing his best not to look uncomfortable when Eddie's undressed. Once Eddie's in bed, they bid each other good night, with Richie making Eddie promise to yell if he needs anything in the middle of the night.

Richie falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, but it feels like only a minute later when Eddie is shaking him awake.

"Richie, man! It's just a dream!"

Richie sits up with a gasp, eyes frantically looking around the room. The clock reads 1:24 in the morning, meaning he's actually been asleep for almost five hours.

"Eddie?" he whispers, shakily.

"Yeah, Rich. It's me."

"I saw you." Richie has flashbacks of Eddie's lifeless body. Of the losers pulling a hysterical Richie out of the house while it crumbles down and traps Eddie forever. "Y-you were-" The words get caught in his mouth as he attempts to stifle a sob.

"I'm right here." Eddie says, wiping away Richie's tears

Richie begins to wake up. "What the fuck, Eddie how are you in here?"

"I walked."

"What?" Richie flicks his bedside lamp on and is unhappy to find that there is red seeping through Eddie's bandages. "Eddie," he frantically jumps up. "Come on, we have to get them changed." He helps Eddie into the bathroom and sits him down on top of the toilet, getting the supplies he needs out from the cabinet.

He carefully takes off Eddie's bandage, finding that the blood isn't nearly as bad as he thought it was. He cleans it up carefully with cotton pads and cleans it with soap and water, just like the nurses taught him to do. Eddie stays silent, just watching him. "Does it hurt?" Richie asks, voice barely a whisper.

"Only a little." Eddie whispers back.

Richie applies vaseline around and on the wound, taking gentle care to hurt Eddie as little as possible. He finally gets the new gauze and begins to wrap it around Eddie's torso. "Is that okay?" He asks, finally looking up to meet Eddie's eyes.

Eddie's looking at him like that again. "Yes." He says quietly.

It's too much for Richie. It's so intimate and they're so close and he's going to slip up and do something stupid and–

His thoughts are cut off by Eddie's lips pressing firmly against his.

His knee-jerk reaction is to pull away. "Eddie?" He asks, eyes wide. "Did you mean to do that?"

"Did I mean to...Yes, asshole, I meant to kiss you."

"But you...You're...I don't..." Richie can't think of anything to say. He's so confused. "As like, a bro thing?"

"Richie," Eddie takes his hand. "I love you."

Richie tears up and laughs. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie shakes his head no. "Oh my God, Eds. I love you too. I've loved you since I knew what it meant to love someone, I-" He cuts himself off by kissing Eddie again, still being careful as to not hurt him. "I love you so much. I thought I was going to die, being here with you in the same house and not being able to do anything."

Eddie laughs, his hand carding through Richie's hair. "I kept waiting on you to say something."
"You knew?" Richie asks, mortified.

"Only because I liked you, too." Eddie assures. "And I mean, I had suspicions before you told me you were gay, but that kinda sealed the deal."

"I told you I was gay and you didn't think to maybe let me know you were the same?" Richie laughs.

"I don't really know what I am." Eddie says. "All I know is that when I got Mike's phone call it all made sense why I had some weird infatuation with a comedian I hated. And when I saw you again at the restaurant...I felt like a little kid again."

"Yeah," Richie exhales, so incredibly happy. "I know what you mean."

"Can I, is it alright if I sleep in your bed?" Eddie asks. "I think it would help with nightmares. And also I just want to start making up for lost time."

"No sex until your chest hole is gone." Richie jokes, and presses another kiss on Eddie's lips.

Eddie smacks his shoulder. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know." Richie helps Eddie up, and basically carries him into his bedroom, setting him down gently on the bed.

They lay down next to each other, hands intertwined. They can't really get close, due to Eddie's injury, but this is perfect for the moment. Richie is so, so happy.

The last thing he sees before he drifts off to sleep again is Eddie looking at him like that.

He doesn't have any other nightmares that night.