Richie turned all of that over in his head, everything that Julia told him. All the reasons not to go through with this came flooding in, as if his body chemistry just sent some kind of blanket invitation - so yeah, he was nervous, heart hammering against his ribcage so hard he swore his veins jerked with each beat. Everything about what could go wrong swirled into some kind of vortex, eating its own tail.
But there was no sense in considering every single possible thing - Eddie was the risk analyst not him, and right now, Richie would give pretty much anything to be rid of whatever was poisoning him. It was only a reminder of how he'd failed, how bad he'd fucked up, down in the caverns.
"Just for the record though - " He did as Julia instructed, laying on the bed (after taking his shoes off, because it was rude to put shoes on someone's bed, especially a goddess-lady), hands folded on his abdomen. "I think you turned out pretty great, after it was all said and done."
Jesus fuckin' Christ, he hoped he didn't turn out like Pennywise. IT wasn't a god, but more like - an ancient horror, older than time itself. The Deadlights were like this all-consuming force. He didn't even understand it fully, he just knew that he could not become that.