Whatever it was, that had sank into the deeper recesses of his mind and in his spongy marrow, his heart and whatever a soul was supposed to be, it was fucking dangerous - Richie could feel it sitting there, he could see it sometimes too. Shadows, in the corners of his vision, tendrils of inky black just out of his reach. He didn't know the extent of what Julia was capable of, but the last thing he wanted was for something to happen to her while she was trying to help his dumb ass.
"Okay, but - " He followed her in, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. "You promise that if it's too much, you'll abort the mission? I mean, I don't know what will happen...I'm just saying."
He wasn't going to drag anyone else down with him. It was his own fucking fault he'd been pulled into the Deadlights anyway, even if at the time he'd been desperate to save Mike.