They'd faced and survived the jaws of a shape-shifting demon clown. How hard could a little amnesia be, really? Comparatively.
WHAT: Richie returns. Eddie comes running (literally). They have a lot to discuss. WHERE: The DOA office. WHEN: Saturday, August 15. WARNINGS: Trauma, PTSD, anxiety, the usual for these kids. STATUS:Ongoing!
Ā» Richie's here, Eddie.
Ā» He's waiting at the DOA office.
Eddie was moving before he'd even started processing the notification on his phone. Noctis had texted him the news, he knew that, but everything still felt wavering and paper thin, like he was sleep-walking even though he was actually racing across town at top speed. Did he even bring his phone with him? Wallet? Keys? It didn't matter. Richie was back and Eddie felt alive again, the burning in his lungs a small reminder that everything would be alright if he just clung to his boyfriend and never let him go again.
Nothing could have prepared him for losing Richie, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing him again either. Distantly, he was aware of the fact that he was gasping, "Jesus christ, jesus christ," more than a few times, but it was muffled into Richie's shirt after he collided straight into his arms the second he spotted him. Eddie was too busy trying to burrow closer, ear against his chest, the reassuring thump of that great heart sending a wave of relief and gratitude through him. If there was a God, or hell, gods, he sent a prayer up to them in that moment. They were together again. He could breathe. Or, well. He could until the tears came, which turned into awful, ugly sobs that shook his whole body.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Eddie choked out, immediately trying to peel away from Richie so he could dig out the fake inhaler from his pocket. It was only then that he realized he was basically in pajamasāsoft shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, mismatched socks paired with his running sneakers. He looked like shit and he knew it, but it had been an exceptionally shit week. Eddie took a drag from the inhaler to try and settle his nerves, and reached up to wipe his bloodshot eyes, finally, finally taking a critical look at Richie to make sure he wasn't hurt.
His face twisted, fresh tears welling up again. "I missed you so much," he said, feeling broken and whole at the same time. It had only been a few days, but when you grew up in a town where kids went missing constantly because they were being hunted by a circus demon, it was difficult dealing with that happening again. Even here in Vallo, where he'd started to let himself feel safe, it had happened. Fucking monkey's paw bullshit. Eddie felt queasy.
āIām still really sorry.ā Richie felt like he was possibly about to curl into himself so hard he was going to stop existing, but he didnāt really know what else to do but keep apologizing and attempt to get infinitely smaller. It was really weird that literally no one seemed concerned or shocked that Richieād arrived and pretty promptly threw up everywhere. They just handed him some water, some mints, and told him that maybe he should sit down. Not that they were wrong because Richie felt like he could have passed out. All of this just felt like a bad fucking dream because that was what it had to be.
Right?
Sitting there, all Richie could think was that he hadnāt made it out of fucking Neibolt. Somehow, he was still down there and feeling Eddieās fingers trembling against his arm as he tried to wrap his scratches were just his imagination. So was the smell of smoke and the radio faintly playing Heroes for the millionth time. All of it had to be fake and this was just more shit that clown was throwing at him.
That was what Richie thought until a pretty cool guy told him that Eddie was here. That heād been here for a while. So were the rest of the Losers. Richieās stomach bottomed out and he was glad that all he had left in him was dry heaves because he would have had an encore otherwise. Crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, he shook his head and felt his curls bouncing around his face. The reek of the sewers was still on him.
But Richie wasnāt thinking about any of that when he saw Eddie walk in and āChrist,ā fell from his lips because Eddie looked so pale. āEds, hey,ā Richie murmured, reaching down for the other water bottle someone had left him when he wasnāt paying attention. Opening it without taking his eyes off Eddie, he held it out. āYou look like hell. Drink some of this for me?ā
It tested all of Richieās reflexes to try and cap the bottle when Eddie collided with him and he dropped it back to the end table as his arms wrapped around his dearest friend impossibly tight. The gasping felt like being stabbed in the chest. āCan you take a deep breath for me, Eds?ā Worry was starting to mount and twist all of Richieās insides. What had Eddie been through to shake him up this much and why didnāt he have his bat so he could swing it at whoever the fuck made Eddie feel like this?
Clinging to Eddie, he had a hard time letting him pull away, even as Eddie was apologizing. āWhat are you sorry for, Eds?ā The inhaler made Richie feel like he couldnāt breathe all of a sudden but he didnāt stop Eddie from using it. All it did was make Richie more worried. Enough that it was starting to really etch lines into his face. āSince when have you been using that again?ā Richie tried to ignore the fact that his voice broke just then. That was fucking embarrassing.
Tears.
Instantly, Richie was scooping Eddie back up into his arms, fiercely enough that he lifted him up off the ground a little. āIām here,ā he whispered. How could Eddie have missed him when theyād only seen each other seconds ago? Except Richie couldn'tā reconcile why Eddie wasnāt wearing the same thing either. He had so many questions but none of them were more important than wiping away some of Eddieās tears and holding him close to support him.
It took a long time before Eddie felt like he was back in his own body. His ears were ringing, and Richie sounded so far away, but bit by bit, the longer he was held tight, the more Eddie was feeling like himself again. He gasped a shaky breath when Richie told him to, then another, slower this time. It helped, just like it always did. He was here. He was here. He was here. The world was righting itself, and Eddie made a noise in the back of his throat and turned his head to bury it against Richie's chest again, inhaling sharply. He smelled like Neiboltāmusty, cloying, earthy, sourābut even that didn't bother him. Underneath it all, he could smell his boyfriend, that familiar mixture of leather, sandalwood, aftershave, and ... insecurity? The last one smelled floral, and Eddie paused, sniffing again, for once glad the clown had left him a parting gift so he could pick things like this out. It gave him something else to focus on, which meant the sobs were finally subsiding. Thank God. He really hated feeling this weak and miserable, especially with Richie back in his arms.
"Fuck," Eddie croaked, then answered, "I'm sorry for losing it like that. I just ... it's been ..." He felt his throat close, so he took another drag from the inhaler. He wished he didn't need it. It was embarrassing. And he flushed when Richie asked about it, trying to push down the stab of guilt for making him worry. "Since you left," was all he could manage without crying again. But he did anyway when Richie scooped him up, and Eddie clung to him harder, grasping the back of his boyfriend's neck tight with his free hand.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Richie must not remember Vallo at all. And maybe that should have bothered him more than it did. That meant he'd forgotten dating him, and coming out, and their friends coming out, and months of progress they'd all slowly started to make as they healed from the scars Derry left them. It pained Eddie to think about thatāto imagine Richie back in those sewers, facing a primordial evil again with no memory of a place that would accept and love him for who he was. It was so cruel. He hated it. But he also knew that everything would be okay with Richie back. They could face all of this and work through it. He could protect him and care for him here.
Eddie didn't move a muscle. He continued to cling to Richie even after the crying finally eased again, and he began to allow himself to relax, lulled by the warmth all around him. "I'll explain everything," he murmured, suddenly feeling very tired. "Just know everyone's okay. We're all safe. And I promise I'll never let anything take you from me again." He should have said us, but really, who was he kidding? Not himself. Not anymore. And he meant every word.
Trying desperately to be strong for Eddie, Richie squeezed him and rocked just a little as he kept encouraging him to breathe. āThatās it,ā he murmured, hearing trembling gasps muffled against his chest. āDeep breaths.ā Richie tried to be the same kind of calming presence that Eddie always was for him and hoped that he could even be a fraction as good. How many mornings had Eddie gently coaxed him out of horrible nightmares that left Richie feeling shaken and breathless, like he had been drowning. Hearing Eddieās voice was always like surfacing after being underwater and he just wanted to help Eddie in the same way. āIām here, Eds,ā Richie whispered again, not knowing at all how important that very statement really was.
āYou into the smell of greywater all of a sudden, Eds?ā Richie tried to make his voice light and gently teasing, but it was stretched too thin to really sound like he wanted. Eddieās sobs were clawing at his heart and Richie just wanted to wipe away all of his tears and take all of this pain with it. āYou donāt have to apologize.ā Reaching up to card his fingers through Eddieās hair, teasing the wave in it. He could smell all the things that were distinctly Eddie, things that felt like home. A real home. Fuck, Richie probably shouldnāt be thinking about that stuff right now. Eddie was hurting and now wasnāt the time for Richie to be daydreaming about confessing to him even though heād been dying to for years.
Instead, he kept his focus on Eddie though his thoughts drifted a little. Richie couldnāt remember the last time Eddieād actually needed to use his inhaler and it scared him that he was using it again. It wasnāt like theyād thrown it out or anything when Eddieās learned that it was just a placebo and Richie had kept one in his backpack, but Richie hadnāt seen Eddie this bad in a long time.
And theyād just killed the fucking clown.
āBut I just got here,ā slipped passed his lips before Richie could really think about it. And then he did. Had he been here before? And he justā¦ left? How? Why? Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach all over again.
Burying his face against Eddieās neck as he hugged him, Richie felt that too-familiar ache in his throat just a few seconds before tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes. So much for being strong.
Richie clung to Eddie, fingers curling in that soft, brown hair and he just tried to take his own advice and breathe even as guilt and frustration washed over him and all of that coated in sadness. He was just so tired of Pennywise and the manipulation and stupid fucking magic bullshit. They all deserved so much better. Richie wanted to scream.
āWater first, Eds.ā But Richie didnāt even loosen his grip on Eddie at all. If anything, he held him tighter, afraid that if he let him go, somehow they could get separated and Richie didnāt want Eddie to hurt like this ever again. Thereās no fucking way. He wonāt allow it. āIām not going anywhere. Nothingās gonna take me away.ā Richie knew there wasnāt any way he could really promise that, but he was stubborn enough to try.
I'm here, Eds warmed through Eddie and he shivered, trying to tell himself this was really happening and he wasn't dreaming again. He'd had so many of those in the days since Richie's disappearance, so many moments where he thought he'd heard him, smelled him, saw him. God, he couldn't stop shaking. It was the fingers in his hair that slowly started to unwind him, and Eddie released a long, heavy breath. "I'm all about that fucking greywater cologne," he countered dryly, his sense of humor starting to come back to him. Eddie didn't feel quite as frantic as before, just frayed and exhausted. He sniffed, shifting a little to get a better look at Richie's face. You're too damn tall, he thought, and smiled a little, though only briefly. There was too much to handle before he let his mind wander.
"You were here before," Eddie said gently, knowing he had to be honest. Richie needed to know what he was walking into, even if it would be hard to hear. "People get pulled here and go missing all the time. Some people come back, but they almost always forget. It blows, but ..." Eddie reached up to tenderly cradle his boyfriend's (ājust friend, now?) face in his hands. "I am so fucking happy you're here. I promise it'll be okay. I'm here. We're in this thing together. Alright?" He couldn't promise it would be easy, and his stomach twisted just thinking about it. But they'd faced and survived the jaws of a shape-shifting demon clown. How hard could a little amnesia be, really? Comparatively.
Eddie swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes when Richie buried his face against his neck. He ran a hand through those dark curls and murmured soft reassurances. Later, he'd bring him to the other Losers and insist they all stick close for a few days. Richie needed time to process, and Eddie was determined to make sure he got it. "Yeah. Water," he husked out, not moving an inch either. He could improvise. Shifting a bit, he managed to grab the water bottle Richie had abandoned and get it open, taking a sip before offering it to him too, all without breaking the hug. That was dedication.
"You too," he insisted, pushing it at Richie with a look that meant business.
That shiver raced through Richie too and he gripped Eddie like a lifeline, hoping he could make him feel safe and loved. Richie wasnāt sure how safe they were in this place, but fuck, Eddie was so loved and Richie was going to protect him with everything he was. Theyād managed to kill that fucking clown, so they could get through this too. Whatever the hell this was. Vallo? I sounded like something from a video game or something.
Feeling Eddie trembling in his arms stopped Richieās mind from wandering, every part of him hyper-focused instead, all of his body worried about Eddie. āAre you still breathing?ā Richie squeezed him and continued, flushing, āDeep breathing, I mean. Of course youāre still breathing. Fuck.ā Biting his lip, Richie felt like an idiot and just wanted to stop himself from rambling but he was too nervous and it was really hard to keep all the words in.
So he kept softly encouraging Eddie to focus on his breath, and he curled locks of his best friendās hair around his fingers, and he held him tight. āIāve got you,ā he offered, hoping that was okay to say. Richieās racing heartbeat started to slow when he felt Eddie start to relax and a surprised laugh escaped Richie at Eddieās reply. āI didnāt know thatās what did it for you, Eds.ā Seeing that Eddieās sense of humor helped Richie calm down a little. It would be okay. He just had to keep reminding himself that.
And then Eddie smiled up at him and Richieās knees felt really weak. Was it bad he almost wanted to ask to sit down? He almost did when Eddie told him that he was here before, that somehow heād been here and he justā¦ forgot everything.
Richie had forgotten.
That was his greatest fear and the acrid, unpleasant taste of bile was clawing at the back of his throat.
āI was here?ā Richie would have backed away if Eddie hadnāt held his face in his hands but the instinct was still there. The instinct to move, to run, and never stop rose up in him and he bounced on his heels for a second or two as he locked his eyes on Eddieās deep brown ones and tried to resist the urge to bolt.
It didnāt help that Richie felt so many things at how Eddie was cradling his jaw. Heād lost count of the amount of times he daydreamed about Eddie holding him like this, or how he wished he could kiss him. First, Richie would have to tell Eddie that he was in love with him but heād been too scared, too afraid to lose everything. āEds, Iā¦ā but he cut himself off again, even as he reached up to tangle his fingers in Eddieās hair. āWeāre always in this together. IāmāIām sorry I donāt remember but Iām always on your side, Eds. Always.ā It made Richie think of their initials, carved into the Kissing Bridge back home. That was a promise that Richie would always be by Eddieās side too, even when he was too afraid to say it out loud.
Listening to Eddieās voice, Richie tried to hold back his tears as he clung to Eddie. He was overwhelmed, already drained from just barely getting out of the sewers and Neibolt with his life. It was a lot, but Richie trusted in Eddie, that he had him just like Richie had Eddie. Theyād be okay.
Richie tried to move with Eddie as he reached for the water bottle, chuckling a little against Eddieās skin and focusing a little too much on not toppling them both over with his poor balance. āThanks, Eds,ā was his reply, still almost unintelligible. āNah, you have it. I had a whole one on my own before you got here. Promise.ā Richie could be stubborn too when he wanted to be, and he wanted to make sure Eddie got enough water. He still looked a little pale.
Eddie shook with silent laughter when Richie said Of course you're still breathing. It was so quintessentially him, such a classic Richie Tozier thing to say, that he couldn't help the chuckles bubbling up that quickly dissolved into outright laughter. Eddie laughed so hard he was crying again, and he drew back a little to wipe his tears, smiling up at Richie with a look that he knew was too obvious, but he didn't bother hiding his affection. He wouldn't anymore. "You're a nerd," he accused, reaching up to needlessly adjust Richie's glasses before he pushed some hair away from his face. They had a lot to talk about, but for another long moment, Eddie just basked in the warmth of this closeness. He was never letting him go ever again.
Okay, so maybe he still smacked Richie's chest a little (lightly, of course) for the greywater comment. "What does it for me is you sitting over here and taking a damn breath," Eddie said dryly, already shepherding the two of them toward the nearest couch. He only noticed then that Noctis had disappeared and closed the office door behind him, which was a kindness he'd thank him for later. Right now, Eddie was thinking about the rest of the Losers, and how in the hell he was going to explain enough to Richie about what he'd missed before releasing him into the wild, so to speak. God. What a fucking shit show.
Blinking, he turned his attention back to Richie immediately when his friend seemed to struggle with hearing he'd missed so much. It made his heart sink, and he frowned, immediately reaching for him again so he could squeeze his arms. There was that awful, nauseating deja vu againāthe two of them crouched and trembling in Neibolt, clinging together while the hulking form of a gigantic demon clown descended on them, claws bared. Eddie, look at me. Look at me. He shook that memory off. They were alive, and together, and he needed to focus, dammit. "You shouldn't be sorry," Eddie insisted, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "This isn't your fault, okay? I'm justāI'm so fucking glad you're okay. That you're back. The rest doesn't matter."
So once he was sure Richie had settled a bit more (and he rubbed his back continuously, already feeling steadier himself), Eddie slowly caught him up on a few things: namely, where they were, how they'd gotten there, that the rest of the Losers were here and safe, and perhaps most difficult of all, that Eddie had been away from Derry for almost a whole year. He explained that too, a little, though he glazed over the horror house he'd woken up in and focused more on how he met Gladio, and ultimately, how he'd inherited the manor. Eddie took a break after that, sipping some more water before pushing it into Richie's hands.
"There's one more thing," he said, a bit tentative now, unsure how this might go over. "We're, uh. We ... I mean. Um. We're dating." His heart was trying to beat out of his chest, but he knew this was something Richie needed to hear from him. Nobody else. Eddie just tried not to fly into a complete panic about the million and one possible reactions he might get. What if Richie didn't feel that way about him?
For a second, Richie let himself laugh too, a little carefree despite feeling very much the opposite. In the back of his mind, Richieās thoughts were racing, too many things buzzing around in his head like a swarm of angry bees. Or maybe wasps, because wasps were assholes like that. But for a moment, Richie just let himself laugh and focus on being a little embarrassed that his brain was moving too fast for his motormouth. Still, he couldnāt help but remember how sad Eddieād sounded, and he couldnāt forget the way his shirt was clinging to him in places now that it was soaked with tears, some of them Eddieās and some of them his own now.
Reaching out to wipe away a some of the tears, Richie wondered if it was a bit too romantic, the way he let the pad of his thumb linger just a little too long. āYeah, and you love it.ā That seemed weird to say too, all of a sudden, like it was supercharged and maybe not appropriate right now. āI meanā¦,ā and the sentence trailed off. Instead, he just smiled softly as Eddie fussed with his glasses and leaned into the touch in his hair for as long as he could. Richie squeezed Eddie again and didnāt want to let go. Not now.
Not ever.
Richie chuckled as Eddie swatted him, dramatically resting a hand over his chest. āHey, you said it. Iām just trying to be attentive and this is the thanks I get.ā It was easy to fall back on humor and Richie wanted to try to lighten the moment a little, but he knew there were times to be serious too and he he knew this was one of them. There was a lot they needed to talk about, Richie could see it written all over Eddieās face, but he was nervous. Maybe that was why he was clinging to these light little moments; he was terrified of what was coming and his instinct always was to run.
But Richie didnāt want to run.
Eddie needed him. The Losers needed him. He wasnāt going to run anymore.
āI think we both need to sit, Eds.ā Which was true. Eddie looked drained and Richie felt that too, and he didnāt fight as he was being herded over to the couch. Somehow, Richieād missed when Noctis had left too, way too focused on Eddie to notice. Heād have to thank him too, because this would have been even more awkward if heād looked up in the middle of this heartfelt stuff to see some weirdo adult (even if he seemed pretty rad) just staring at them from behind a desk.
Sinking into the couch, Richie was a little startled by the way Eddie grabbed him but he shook it off and put his hands on either side of Eddieās ribcage (which a voice in the back of his mind really vocally told him was, in fact, not what friends did), and held his friendās gaze. āHey Eds. Look at me,ā he murmured, having no way of knowing just how poignant that was in this moment. āMaybe I can be a little sorry, even if it wasnāt my fault.ā Again, Richieās voice cracked a little, strained under the weight of a million emotions all at once. āBut yeah. Iām here. And Iām not going anywhere.ā The more Richie said it, the more he could believe it. āIām happy Iām here too. And weāllāNo matter what, weāll get through it. Nothing can stop that. Not showing up fuckingā¦ in video game land or whatever, not the bitch in the sewer. Nothingās stopping Richie Tozier.ā
At some point, Richie had ended up leaning against Eddie, soothed halfway to sleep by the gentle, rhythmic feel of Eddieās hand on his back. Richie couldnāt let himself drift off though, because he needed to listen and holy shit there was a lot to catch up on. It swirled around inside of him and made him uneasy all over again, but Richie just tried to focus on breathing, and the feel of Eddieās palm on his spine, and the sound of his voice. It was hard to retain all the information too, but he was trying.
Hearing that Eddieād been gone a year somehow prompted Richie to sit up and he looked at him with confusion etched all over his face. Richieād told him that heād only seen him only a few minutes ago, that heād been leaning against him in Billās garage and that hadnāt been that long ago. Maybe Richie had fallen asleep for a second, but that wasnāt a year.
Eventually, they moved on from that and Richieās eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the mention of a manor. And inheriting said manor. His first pressing question was if it had a conservatory, pulling all his knowledge on fancy houses came from the game Clue.
Richie accepted the water when it was given back to him and he took the smallest sip before insisting that Eddie take it back. He could feel the change in the conversation and it made him anxious all over again. Swallowing hard, Richie attempted to stay calm and he listened.
And then he was silent for a bit.
It was like his brain heard the words, but it and his heart were too busy doing flips and throwing confetti around to actually process what Eddie had said.
āEds. Iā¦ā Reaching for one and then both of Eddieās hands, Richie held them tight, so tight that he hoped Eddie wouldnāt realize how badly they were shaking. āThatāsāIāve been literallyā¦ fuck.ā There was too much in his head all trying to get out at once and it was making him tongue-tied. So much for his gift of talking. āI love you.ā
Okay, that was probably weird.
Pausing to take a deep breath, Richie felt his cheeks burning and he looked down at their hands, trying to find the courage to keep going. āI guess I hope youāre not kidding because likeā¦ Eddie, Iāve been trying to ask you out for the longest time. I wrote scripts and stuff and I tried to practice,ā and Richie blushed harder and at least looked a little sheepish. āBut I justāI love you, Eds. I justā¦ Am I enough?ā
Suddenly it hit him that maybe he wasnāt who Eddie wanted anymore. Bile ate at the back of his throat and tears pricked at his eyes again. Richie desperately wanted to be enough but was terrified that he wasnāt.
"Yeah," Eddie said, the word gusting out of him on a heavy breath. "Yeah, I do." It wasn't weird to admit it. He'd been dating Richie for a few months now, and he'd been in love with him for years. Even if Richie didn't remember, Eddie still felt the same. He always would. And God, he was so fucking tired of pretending to be something he wasn't. So he smiled a little, and kept fussing, and didn't push when Richie injected a little humor into a very tense situation. Eddie knew it was a defense mechanism, and really, who he was he to judge? He'd just used an inhaler again, which he hadn't needed since he was in middle school. They both dealt with the shit life threw at them in different ways, and for right now, he didn't begrudge Richie needing to crack a joke. If anything, it made him chuckle a little.
He sobered up quick when he felt his friend's hands along on his sides, sucking in a small, sharp breath. Focus, dammit, Eddie thought to himself, and somehow managed to will away that bolt of heat that always shivered down his spine when Richie touched him. This wasn't the time for that. He was hurting, and God, it broke Eddie's heart to see him like this. "You're right," he replied, absolute conviction in his voice. "We will get through it. I know because I can get through anything when I'm with you." In the back of his mind, he was half-aware of the fact that he'd been rubbing Richie's arms while they talked, but that wasn't entirely unusual for them. They were always touching, always looking to each other, always shoring up their respective differences. He loved Richie so much it hurt, and when he looked at him now, determined and kind despite his confusion, Eddie felt his chest ache.
This was so much. So many things had happened in the near-year he'd been away from home, and he tried to narrow it down to the most important points while carefully side-stepping the part involving his clown bite. They got through a lot. Eddie laughed a little at the mention of Clue (which he could confirm was similar to the manor), grew serious again when they covered other topics, and hesitated briefly when they finally came to the biggest point he needed to make. Eddie braced himself, breath caught in his throat when Richie grabbed his hands. And then he beamed. Relief and joy washed over him in waves, all his nervousness gone in that moment his friendāhis boyfriendāconfessed he'd always felt the same.
He couldn't stop himself. Eddie pushed into Richie's space and kissed him, brief but firm, to make his point, and then drew back with his softest smile. "You're not just enough, Rich. You're everything." Eddie kissed him again, still smiling, before finally leaning back and trying to behave. "I love you, too, you giant goofball. I always have." A pause. "Can I hear those scripts ...?" Okay, so he was half-joking, but still. It made his heart flutter to thank Richie had been planning this for so long.