Richie wasn't actually sure he'd survived anything. He certainly hadn't felt like he had when he'd been watching the house on Neibolt fall inward on itself, leaving Eddie and some major part of himself to be buried there beneath so much molded wood, rubble and bullshit water from the cistern.
He hadn't felt like he'd survived once they'd all ended up in the Quarry either. Being alive didn't really mean survival, he'd figured.
"I'm not not an idiot either," Richie pointed out with a shrug, and then he pushed himself off the bathroom counter to sit on the floor instead -- he could do shit like that now, because he lived with Eddie and Stan and they were neat and clean and things were always tidier than he'd ever been on his own.
He considered it for a moment, kind of hating that he was even being this serious. This wasn't the kind of shit he was meant to say and do -- what was the point if he wasn't trying to get a laugh out of his best friend? "Seems shitty," he decided after a beat. "To be a whiny bitch about my two best friends dying to my two previously dead best friends. You see the situation I'm in, Stanley?"