They'd gotten into a lot together back in the day. Teenaged rebellion in quiet settings, because for how brave any of them could be when necessary, they'd still sort of been scared, too. They way only kids could be when there was nothing to be done about the situations they'd been forced into with no way out of it because they were children. Those days still felt nostalgic and fresh in his mind. That was what happened when you were forced to forget, and it all came back strong and new and familiar all at once.
Richie gave Bev a second to find her lungs again, taking another steady drag from his own cigarette to distract from the noise of the blood rushing in his ears. "Eddie's here," he said softly, glancing down to the ground, his bright chuck taylor's against the white of the snow. An idiotic choice of footwear in wet places, like Richie couldn't help himself from being self destructive even in the smallest ways. "He's from before. Before the--" He closed his mouth, chewed at the inside of his lip. "Before," he settled on. And he'd never really been able to tell Eddie about it. Just implied it heavily with his own grief and then left Eddie to figure it out all on his own, like an asshole.