He was still pretty sure she was going to regret this life choice but he was pretty sure anyone who'd spent enough time with both Richie and himself wound up regretting it after awhile. Stan certainly had as a kid no matter how much he loved them. The jokes, the bickering, the way the two of them couldn't seem to leave each other alone and, frankly, didn't want to was probably infuriating. She seemed to be the sensible type. Maybe they'd win her over but she'd definitely question why she'd ever thought hanging out with them was a good idea. "Well, you're always welcome at the Loser house." He decided. "You might want to wait until we get furniture and plates."
With that invitation out in the open he could go back to focusing on doors that lead to serene pink fields and whole entire cities. This was probably magic. He didn't want to believe that. He spent so much of his normal life working with statistics to try and predict trends. It was all very grounded in reality and what could, realistically, happen. There should've been no way he could open a door in a house and find an entirely different world. It was probably best to just turn the logical part of his brain off, the same way he basically had to in Derry. If he could accept a space alien clown that ate children every 27 years then magic doors should be a piece of cake.
He glanced towards Natasha when she asked if he would've rather been presented with a closet and shook his head. "Last time it was Richie and I were attacked by a severed set of legs." Because that was the logical explanation for it. A closet wasn't scary because he was dealing with some internalized issues that it pointed out in a glaringly obvious way. Nope. Not at all.
It actually was nice of her to ask his opinion and let him look at both doors and attempt to try and predict what could happen. Neither of the doors were completely free of danger. Even the seemingly harmless looking field could hold something terrible hidden among all that swaying pink grass. Cites, however, meant hospitals and hospitals meant medication, medical supplies. Things that were always useful no matter what the situation was. Sure, they had a nurse but they may have only had one.
"Neither option is ideal." He admitted. "However, I would prefer the city." Because, yes, the idea of finding medical supplies was great and all but there was a whole fucking city behind a door. A door that didn't look any bigger than the one that lead into his closet in the house he shared with Richie.