Brave
Chapter 11 – Soulmates

Author's note: So um, this chapter was not supposed to happen. At all. There was not supposed to be this level of darkness and drama in my nice romantic Reddie fic, but it just occurred to me that the assholes who beat up Adrian and Don were never dealt with. This idea sprung into my mind, and I've never been one to shy away when my muse takes over, because I always love the results. Some of my readers have also expressed the desire for more drama, so here it is. Please, please be cautious before proceeding. As I've said, the assholes who beat up Adrian and Don make an appearance, so there will be homophobic language and a hate crime. Nothing as serious as what happened to Adrian and Don, but please tread carefully. I will put a summary of what happens in the end notes, so if you'd rather skip this chapter, you can.

"Well, that shit got dark fast."
~Richie, IT: Chapter Two


When Angel of the Morning had finished playing from Richie's phone, Eddie pushed himself up on tiptoes, wrapping his fingers in the front of Richie's sweatshirt. He pulled Richie down, kissing him fiercely. When Eddie pulled away, he was grinning up at Richie as he said, "I love you so much."

Richie's arms were comfortably wrapped around Eddie's waist, and he squeezed Eddie to him gently. It was Richie's turn to smile and he said, "I love you." Richie leaned down to kiss Eddie again, but just then, something caught his eye over the top of Eddie's head. Something that made Richie's blood run cold.

He didn't know the four men that were approaching, but he recognized them almost immediately. In fact, it was the smallest among them that made Richie so very clearly remember the sketches of the suspects that had been printed in the paper last week. Richie thought the paper said this man's name was Chris, but…he wasn't even a man. He was a boy. Richie wasn't sure why the acne and the sparse facial hair in the sketch hadn't clued him into that fact, but he looked to be about fifteen or sixteen at the very most. How in the fucking world did someone so young get involved in beating up someone? In a fucking hate crime?

Because these were the men who had beaten up Adrian and Don. Richie had never been more sure of anything in his life – except maybe for the fact that he loved Eddie more than anything else in the world.

Richie was pulled from his thoughts when he realized Eddie was talking to him, looking up at him in confusion.

"Rich?"

"Shit," Richie said, gently pushing Eddie away from him. "Get in the car."

"What?"

"Get in the fucking car!" Richie said urgently. "Do as I say. Please."

Eddie appeared as if he was about to argue or ask more questions, but then his eyes met with Richie's. It only took a moment before Eddie understood completely, reading his eyes and the expression on Richie's face almost immediately.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Eddie stared at the four people who were approaching, but then he got moving a few seconds later. Eddie stumbled over a few stones on the ground, but Richie reached out, grabbing him by the arm and steadying him before he lost his balance entirely. Richie still didn't relinquish his hold on Eddie, guiding him back to the passenger's side of the car, keeping his eyes up and on the men who were still closing in on them.

"Rich," Eddie began again, but Richie didn't give him a chance to complete his thought.

"Go!" Richie cried, fear pooling in his stomach. His limbs felt funny all of a sudden, tingling with fear and beginning to shake uncontrollably. He only hoped that he wouldn't end up puking in front of these morons, because that would only add fuel to the fire that he knew was about to rain down on them.

The four approaching figures weren't that far away anymore, and Richie wasn't so sure he could get Eddie in the car and still have time to get back around to his side so he could get them the hell out of there. If only Richie had seen them sooner, if only Richie hadn't been so stupid to do this sort of thing in fucking public.

But damnit. Richie was sick of hiding. He'd spent nearly his entire life pretending he wasn't gay. Pretending that he didn't have feelings for his best friend. Pretending he was straight when that couldn't be further from the truth. Richie was finally coming to embrace that part of himself that he had spent so very long hiding from, because Jesus Christ, he had Eddie fucking Kaspbrak and he was happier than he'd been in forever. Was it really that horrible that Richie finally had the love of his life and simply wanted to kiss him in public? What great crime had he committed for wanting to engage in a stupid public display of affection with the man he was in love with?

Richie knew they were both in danger, but there was no way in hell Richie was going to put his life above Eddie's. He was going to get Eddie safely into the car first, and whatever happened to Richie, he would deal with. Eddie had already given enough of himself to save Richie. He had nearly lost his own life to keep Richie safe – had only just gotten out of the hospital the day before because of it – and Richie was determined to not let that happen again. It was time for Richie to put his own life on the line for person he loved most in the world.

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Richie's feet felt like they were stuck in molasses as he ushered Eddie's towards the passenger's side of the car. Richie had his hand against the small of Eddie's back, trying his best to urge him forward, but no matter how hard and fast Richie tried to move, it almost seemed like he was frozen in place. Why then, did it seem like the four men were closing in on them with ridiculous speed?

At long last, they made it to the passenger's side of the car, and Richie wrenched the door open. He made sure Eddie was safely inside before he said, "Lock the door."

Eddie started to say something in response, but Richie closed the door, cutting him off. Richie then rounded the hood of the car and reached out for the handle on his side, but he didn't quite make it.

Something collided with Richie's chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and knocking him off balance. Richie stumbled backwards, his arm reaching out for the hood of the car to try and steady himself. He managed to catch it just in time before he fell on his ass.

"What is it with this shithole town and the way it attracts you faggots?"

The man who had spoken, who had shoved Richie was the largest among the four men, but Richie didn't think he was bigger than Eddie. He was rather surly and still towered over the three others he was with, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that they might gravitate towards him. This man also had a stupid Meg Ryan-looking haircut. Richie briefly glanced up into this man's blue eyes, but then Richie diverted his gaze away.

Richie didn't quite know how to respond. Under normal circumstances, Richie would have made a smartass comment, would have asked who the hell got this kind of haircut in this day and age, but he found himself shocked into silence. Richie had done nothing but try and protect himself from this sort of shit. His entire life, he had been terrified of ending up in a position like this, and now despite his best efforts to the contrary, here he was. It was being thrust upon him almost before he had a chance to process it.

How in the hell had Richie gotten here? Everything with Eddie had happened so fast, but it still felt so nice, so comfortable. Even though he technically wasn't out yet, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to want to kiss and hug Eddie. It almost hadn't occurred to Richie that he probably shouldn't have been doing so on a public fucking bridge.

"What's the matter?" the man asked Richie.

Richie was leaning awkwardly against the hood of his car, still afraid that he'd lose his balance if he let go. From his current position, it made the man in front of Richie just a bit taller, and he was leaning down into Richie's face, waiting for an answer.

"None of you faggots seem to want to talk about how disgusting you are."

Richie was frozen to his spot. Why in god's name couldn't he think of anything to say in response? Why didn't he try and steady himself and push this asshole away? Richie was bigger than he was, so he could probably overpower him. Then again, there were four of them and only one of Richie. The three other men weren't currently involved in the scuffle; they were only looking on and if Richie decided to fight back, the four other men could probably hand his ass to him.

At least Eddie was safely locked inside the car. Richie didn't really care what they did to him, just as long as Eddie was safe. Just then, however, Richie's heart seemed to leap into his chest when he heard the car door open behind him.

"Leave him alone," Eddie said firmly.

Holy shit, Richie didn't think he had ever heard Eddie sound so unwavering, at least not when they were being confronted with danger like this. Richie had been expecting Eddie's voice to be quivering, but it was steadier than Richie thought he had ever heard it. Next, Richie could hear the gravel crunching underneath Eddie's shoes as he came around the car, and this made Richie's heart explode with fear.

"I told you to stay in the car!" Richie snapped at him, because Jesus Christ, Eddie was not going to do this. Eddie was still healing, still recovering, and he was not going to get his stitches ripped out, or god knew what and end up back in the hospital. He wasn't.

The man with the stupid haircut looked back at Richie, his eyes glinting in amusement. "Do you tell him when you're going dick him down in bed too?" he asked.

All at once, Richie could feel his hand curling up into a fist at his side. He had found his footing, pushing himself away from the car and standing up straight to make himself seem as imposing as possible. Before he could scarcely even process what he was doing, Richie's hand had flown forward, landing a punch squarely in the man's jaw. The man went flying backwards, landing on his ass, his blue eyes blinking up at Richie in confusion. It was like he couldn't believe that someone had decided to stand up to him.

Truth be told, neither could Richie. Shit, this wasn't who he was; he didn't just go around punching people, but god help whoever decided to speak about Eddie in such a way. It would be the last thing they did if Richie had anything to say about it, because Richie was the only one allowed to make such jokes at Eddie's expense.

"Shit," Eddie murmured at Richie's shoulder, staring down at the man on the ground.

That, however, only succeeded at putting Richie and Eddie in between the car and the three other men who were still on their feet. One of them immediately reached out for Eddie, grabbing his arms and pulling them behind his back. Richie could see Eddie grimacing in pain, then biting at his bottom lip, like he was trying not to make any sounds.

Richie reached out for him, but the other man had already pulled Eddie too far away from him. Richie wanted to tell them to leave Eddie alone, because he still had very serious injuries, but in the end, Richie decided against it; it was probably for the best to not let these assholes know that Eddie was already slightly incapacitated.

"Take your hands off him," Richie said instead, taking a few steps closer to Eddie and the man who was tugging him away.

A moment later, the fourth man was behind Richie, tugging his hands behind his back as well. "I hardly think you're in a position to be giving us orders," the man muttered in Richie's ear.

Richie tried to pull away, tugging his arms firmly, but the man had a secure hold on them.

Meanwhile, Chris was helping the man with the stupid Meg Ryan haircut up off the ground. Richie had apparently split the man's lip when he'd punched him, a thin trickle of blood beading down his chin.

"Are you okay, Webby?" Chris asked, tugging him up by the arm.

"Webby?" Richie asked around a snort, unable to stop himself. "Wait, are you named after that cute little character on Ducktales? You know, with the pink bow and dress?"

"Richie," Eddie said warningly from his right.

Out of the corner of his eye, Richie could still see Eddie struggling against the man who was holding him. Richie's heart thudded hard against his ribs, but he would try his hardest to try and keep the attention off of Eddie. The more Richie drew the attention to himself, the less likely they would be to hurt Eddie. They'd just hurt Richie, and as scared as that made him, Richie wouldn't let anything happen to Eddie ever again.

Webby closed in on Richie, standing up straighter and apparently trying to make himself seem more imposing than he really was. It might have worked if not for his stupid ass haircut, and Richie had to forcibly control himself to not laugh in the man's ridiculous face.

"Who do you think you are, faggot?" Webby asked, placing his hands on Richie's chest and shoving him backwards against the man behind him.

This seemed to excite Chris, because he clapped his hands together, his eyes darting between Richie and Webby. It was like he was watching some silly, inconsequential sports game and not a fucking hate crime take place right in front of him.

"Come on, fuck him up," Chris said, egging Webby on.

Richie blinked at the youngest of the bullies, because this was possibly one of the most absurd things he had ever seen in his life. "What are you doing, Chris?" Richie asked him, genuinely curious. "How did you get mixed up with these assholes?"

Chris faltered, a frown overtaking his face while he stared at Richie.

"Yeah, I know who you are," Richie told him. "I would have thought that you'd want to keep a low profile considering the fact that you guys are already wanted for one hate crime." Richie's eyes flashed to Webby before he said, "Or do you guys make a habit out of being assholes? My mistake."

"Just trying to clean up the streets in this shithole town," Webby said, pushing himself up on tiptoes to get into Richie's face. "Way too many of you fairies around. I don't know what it is about this place that attracts you."

"Then what the fuck are you doing here?" Richie snapped. "Talk about this town being a shithole."

Webby's eyes flashed and Richie barely had time to react before a fist was pummeled into his stomach. Richie hunched forward as all the air left his lungs. He coughed, then quickly sucked in another breath of air. Again, Richie tried to tug his arms away from the man who was holding them, but they didn't budge. Richie didn't think he even had enough energy left after having all the air knocked out of him.

"Stop it!" Eddie yelled. Then he started kicking his legs up, doubling his efforts to get away from his bully.

Richie grimaced, both from the ache that had started throbbing in his stomach and at Eddie's renewed efforts. Richie would take all the punches these assholes had to throw and more if it meant keeping Eddie safe, but of course his fiery little Eds couldn't leave well enough alone.

Webby rounded on Eddie then, grinning at the fact that Eddie wasn't getting anywhere. "What are you going to do about it?" Webby asked, looking down his nose at Eddie.

It looked like Webby was about to draw back and punch Eddie too, so Richie muttered, "If you fucking touch him, I will end you." He kept tugging at the man who was holding him to no avail.

Richie just didn't watch Eddie claw his way back to life only to have this group of assholes ruin all his efforts. Eddie had survived being stabbed by a fucking demon of all things, and Richie wasn't going to lose him to a goddamn bigot. Just one punch could open Eddie's stitches, spilling his blood all over once again and setting back all the healing he had done. There was no way in hell Richie was about to let that happen. Not now, not ever.

Webby looked back over his shoulder at Richie, grinning in a way that almost reminded Richie of that fucking clown. This caused a shiver to run through Richie, but at the same time, he was glad; at least this grin was directed at him and not at Eddie. If Richie didn't know any better, he might have thought that It was still alive, but no. It was simply the cruel nature of some people who seemed to think that beating up anyone they didn't like made them better than the rest of the world.

"Yeah?" Webby asked, suddenly closing back in on Richie. "Well, the two of you are vastly outnumbered, so I'm not sure what you think you're going to do other than get your asses kicked."

Another one of Webby's fists flew out, and this one caught the corner of Richie's mouth. A burst of pain exploded through his jaw and almost immediately, Richie could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. His glasses had also become dislodged on his face, slipping down his nose on the sheen of sweat that had formed there.

Richie tilted his head back quickly, attempting to hitch his glasses back up on his nose, but a moment later, they were gone altogether. Webby had grabbed them off his face and tossed them, laughing as a blur of black flew across Richie's field of vision.

"You won't be needing those," Webby told him.

This caused Richie's heartbeat to increase again, because he was plunged into world of fog and blobs of color. He hadn't even thought about what he would do if they took his glasses, because Richie couldn't even see to find his way out of a goddamned paper bag without them.

"Rich," Eddie hissed at him.

Richie's eyes darted to him, and he could tell that Eddie was trying to mouth something to him, but for all the good it did. Richie was lucky he could even tell he was looking at Eddie, but at least there was no mistaking the red hoodie he was wearing that day.

God, Eddie looked good in red. In fact, it was that red windbreaker of his that made Richie's feelings for Eddie come slamming back to him in full force in the Jade of the Orient. The color that made him remember those cute little red shorts that Eddie had worn in his childhood that had done unspeakable things to Richie. But then Richie shook his head, trying to get his mind back to the matter at hand. This was no time to be thinking about how hot Eddie was.

Eddie was still struggling, his legs kicking out again and desperately trying to free his hands from behind his back.

"Hold him, Steve!" Webby yelled at the man behind Eddie.

"He's not going anywhere," Steve said around a laugh. Richie could tell he was tugging on Eddie more tightly, Eddie jerking back sharply.

"And you're asking for it," Richie spat out, narrowing his eyes in Steve's direction.

"I'm fine, Rich," Eddie insisted. "I didn't get stabbed twice just to succumb to these losers."

Even without his glasses, Richie could see Eddie's large brown eyes staring at him, boring into him, but he had no idea what Eddie was getting at. Why would Eddie be reminding him of the fact that he had been stabbed?

And then it hit Richie all once, and he felt like a royal dumbass that Eddie had to remind him of it at all. If only Richie had a moment without Webby watching him like a hawk, but Eddie had already taken care of that too.

"You think you're so tough because you got stabbed?" Webby asked Eddie, closing in on him once again. He laughed before he added, "Because a stab wound is nothing compared to what we're about to do with you."

Richie took his chance, putting everything, every single last ounce of energy he had into tearing out of his captor's grip. He briefly thought back to when he and Bill had dragged Eddie out of the sewer, wondering where that burst of seemingly superhuman strength had come from. But then it was there again, lit by the fact that Richie would be damned before he let them hurt a hair on Eddie's head.

Richie dug his hand down into the pocket of his jeans and twisted around, successfully breaking out of the man's grasp. A moment later, Richie's fingers closed around his pocket knife and he wrenched it out of his pants, pulling it open.

Chris quickly stumbled away, as did the man who had been holding onto Richie.

"Shit," Chris said, "he's got a knife, man."

Webby turned around, his eyes going down to the knife in Richie's hand.

"I've already killed one guy in this shithole town," Richie bit out, trying his very best to put as much menace into his voice as possible. He tightened his grip on his knife, raising it up towards Webby's face. "You want to try for two? Or how about five?" he added, looking around at the group of bullies. "Because I have no problem with that."

Webby put his hands up into the air, taking a few steps backwards. "No. No, it's cool." He glanced back over his shoulder at Steve and said, "Let him go."

A moment later, the man released Eddie, and he immediately joined Richie at his side. Eddie's breath was slightly hard and fast, but nowhere near as bad as Richie had heard it in the past. Jesus Christ, he couldn't believe how brave Eddie was proving himself to be time and time again. Did Eddie even realize what he had just done?

Even though the bullies were backing off, Richie took the time to step in front of Eddie. Richie held his knife out even farther in front of him, watching as the assholes made their way to the other end of the Kissing Bridge.

God, the Kissing Bridge where Richie thought he and Eddie were going to have a wonderful, romantic day together. And they had until it all went to hell. Until shit started coming down on Richie just like he had been waiting for. Like he'd been waiting for ever since he found out that Eddie was going to be okay and in fact loved him back. This was the other shoe dropping. There it was. Finally.

All at once, Richie realized that the hand he was holding his knife in was shaking uncontrollably. It hit him like a ton of bricks exactly what had happened, and that familiar feeling clenched around his stomach again. He turned away from Eddie and vomited up the contents of his stomach, which amounted to the bagel, cream cheese, and coffee he had consumed that morning.

"Rich," Eddie said, placing his on Richie's back.

Richie rested his hands on his knees, gasping for air and closing his eyes against the second wave of nausea that rose up in his stomach. Richie pressed a hand over his mouth, fighting down the feeling. He was at least grateful that he hadn't puked in front of the bullies, because that would have gone over well when he was trying to scare them away with a knife.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asked, rubbing his hands up and down Richie's back.

Richie nodded, slowly straightening up. He turned and wrapped his arms around Eddie, because they only thing he wanted in that moment was to hold him. To feel Eddie warm, and breathing, and alive in his arms.

"Are you okay?" Richie asked next.

He could feel Eddie nodding against him as he said, "Yeah, I think so."

"Fuck," Richie said, pulling away from Eddie and glancing around. "Do you see my glasses? Cause I can't see shit. You're lucky you're so small, because that's the only way I can tell it's you."

"Um," Eddie hummed in response, glancing around. "Yeah, they're here."

As Eddie went to retrieve his glasses, Richie replaced his knife in his pocket and pressed his other hand against the side of his mouth. Richie flinched away at the burning sensation that flared up there, and as blind as he currently was, he could still see the bright red blood that had pooled on his finger when he pulled it away.

"Here," Eddie said, returning to his side. He replaced Richie's glasses on his nose and said, "They're still in one piece."

Richie wanted to check Eddie's stitches, to make sure that none of them had been popped, but he thought it was more prudent to get to safety first. "Let's get back in the car before those assholes come back," he said, placing a hand on the small of Eddie's back and guiding him back around the car.

Once he got Eddie situated in the passenger's seat and got the door locked, Richie retrieved his cell phone from where it was still sitting on the hood of the car. Richie had set it there while they had been "dancing" to Angel of the Morning, a moment that now seemed so very far away. Had that only happened a mere twenty minutes ago?

When Richie slid into the driver's seat and locked his own door, he immediately turned to Eddie. He reached out, pushing Eddie's hoodie and t-shirt up out of the way.

"You're sure you're okay?" Richie asked. He leaned forward, checking that none of Eddie's bandages around his abdomen showed any signs of blood. "They didn't pop any of your stitches, did they?"

Eddie shook his head. "I don't think so. I didn't feel anything come loose."

"I don't see any blood," Richie said, running his hands up and down the bandages to check for dampness as well. He gently pushed Eddie forward, then repeated the process on his back before he concluded, "I think you're okay."

"You're bleeding," Eddie said, glancing up at the trail of blood making its way down Richie's chin.

"It's just a bloody lip," Richie said nonchalantly, trying to brush it off.

"Here," Eddie said. He retrieved his toiletry bag from where he had placed it by his feet on the floor of the car. Eddie had brought it, so he would have his painkillers and extra bandages in case he needed them. Richie had teased him about it at the time, telling Eddie that they weren't going on a ten mile hike through the woods, but Eddie had insisted on bringing it.

Richie pushed down the urge to make a smartass comment, because now Richie really was thankful for Eddie's foresight.

Eddie withdrew a piece of gauze from a plastic bag, folding it up into a little square. He placed his hand on Richie's chin, directing Richie's face towards him. Eddie used the gauze to dab at the blood on Richie's chin and along the corner of his mouth.

"Is your stomach okay?" Eddie asked. "That asshole punched you."

Richie nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his erratically beating heart. "It's a little sore," he told Eddie, "but it's okay."

All of a sudden, Richie's brain seemed to catch up with what had happened, and it occurred to him that he had something much more important to do than to worry about his own injuries. He reached for his phone which he had set on his thigh, immediately pressing 911 into the keypad.

"Who're you calling?" Eddie asked.

"The fucking police," Richie said, glancing at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. His eyes then went back to the windshield, checking to make sure that the bullies in question weren't coming back. "I'm sure they'd like to know that the suspects in a fucking hate crime tried to pull the same shit again."

"Rich…" Eddie began, but then he stopped, not wanting to talk over Richie's phone call. But he was still staring at Richie questioningly.

"Yes," Richie said into his phone once his call had been answered, "I'd like to report a sighting of the suspects in the Adrian Mellon and Dog Hagarty hate crime. They're just leaving Bassey Park in Derry Township."

In the end, Richie chose not to give his name to the police or to specify exactly what had gone on. As much as Richie wanted those fucking assholes to pay for what they'd done – not just to Adrian and Don, but to Eddie as well – Richie had to remind himself of the fact that he wasn't even out yet. While it didn't seem like Webby and his goons had recognized him, Richie still wasn't keen on getting his name thrown around as the victim in a hate crime.

Was that selfish? Putting his career above making sure those assholes got caught? Probably, but Richie only hoped that he had done enough to make sure their luck ran out.

"Rich, I don't understand," Eddie said once Richie hung up the phone. Eddie was still watching him wide-eyed.

It occurred to Richie that most of what he knew about Don and Adrian had happened while Eddie had been sleeping, so Richie quickly explained everything, from the initial hate crime to the articles that had been in the newspaper.

"Fuck, Rich," Eddie muttered. He leaned back in his seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield. "I'm so fucking sorry." He shook his head against the headrest.

"What…?" Richie started to ask, but then he stopped. He leaned forward, reaching a hand out for Eddie's, gripping it tightly inside his. "What the fuck are you sorry for? You were a victim in all of this as much as I was."

"Because," Eddie said firmly, turning his head and holding Richie's gaze. Richie could see him swallowing before he said, "They never would have had a reason to attack us if I hadn't been stupid enough to kiss you in public." Eddie pulled his hand from Richie, then covered his face.

"Eddie," Richie said, pulling Eddie's hands away from his face. "Hey," he added, waiting until Eddie glanced at him again. Richie shook his head. "I'm the one that brought you here. I'm the one who was stupid enough to think that the Kissing Bridge would be a quiet and safe enough place for us to…be us. And I certainly didn't have a problem with kissing you in public. They did." All of a sudden, Richie could feel the stress and anger of the last half hour building up in him. He clenched his teeth together and muttered, "Jesus Christ, this world is fucked up."

Richie's breathing had grown hard, and he could feel tears burning at his eyes again. It had been such a glorious few weeks, spending time with Eddie and falling into a comfortable routine with him. Those days spent in the hospital where he had cried his eyes out, worried sick over Eddie, had seemed so very far away…until now. Until these assholes had appeared and slammed Richie back to earth.

Richie snaked his fingers under his glasses, rubbing at the tears that had formed on his eyelashes, then he slammed his foot down onto the floor of the car. "It's fucked up that I can't even show my boyfriend the place where I first expressed my love for him. It's fucked up that I can't even kiss you or hold your hand in public without having to look over our shoulders."

Silence settled into the car during which Eddie reached over the console, threading his fingers through Richie's own once more.

"You called me your boyfriend," Eddie said quietly.

Richie blinked, then quickly glanced at Eddie. "I…yeah," Richie admitted, swallowing hard. "Is…that not what you are?"

"Yeah, it is," Eddie replied warmly, tightening his fingers around Richie's. "At least, I hope it is. You just never said it before. And technically, I think what we are goes well beyond boyfriends at this point, but I don't think there's a word for that."

Richie paused for a long time before he said, "Soulmates, Eds. I think that's the word you want."

Eddie looked up at him, and if Richie wasn't mistaken, he thought he could see the faintest glint of tears in his eyes. "Are we?" Eddie asked uncertainly.

Richie exhaled softly. "After nearly thirty years, you're going to ask that? I think that qualifies us for the title of 'soulmates', yes."

Frowning deeply, Eddie looked back through the windshield, to the boards of the Kissing Bridge just beyond. Where everything had seemed perfect just a half an hour before. "Just…I don't know," Eddie muttered.

"You don't know what?" Richie's heart skipped a beat, then seemed to lodge itself into his throat. Had he said too much? Had he said the wrong thing? Was dropping the word 'soulmates' too much for Eddie and their fledging relationship?

"I told you," Eddie said, raising his eyes to Richie's once more. "I'm still waiting for this to…fall apart. I'm waiting to wake up and find out this isn't real. For you to tell me that you made a massive mistake and you think it's better if we don't explore this. That shit like this is too much trouble to-"

Richie reached out, placing a hand on Eddie's cheek and turning his head gently. Before Eddie could respond, Richie leaned over the center console, kissing Eddie deeply before he could continue on his rant.

When Richie broke the kiss, Eddie was staring at him, breath warm against Richie's lips. Then Eddie pushed him away, making a disgusted face. Richie's heart thudded again, and he knew he had gone too far. Eddie simply wasn't ready for this talk of soulmates just yet. Richie was about to begin backpedaling, but a moment later, Eddie assuaged his fears.

"Fuck, I love you, but you taste like puke," Eddie complained, "and your mouth was bleeding. You're gross, dude."

Richie laughed gently before he said, "Well, let's get this much straight – I love you too. More than anyone or anything in this entire world, and I'd walk through fucking fire for you. Yeah, it fucking sucks that people like this exist in the world-" Richie gestured towards the windshield, "-but it's not going to scare me away from this. I'm not going to let a bunch of assholes take away the one thing I want most in my life, and that one thing is you. Okay?" Richie rubbed his palm over Eddie's cheek, reveling in the feel of Eddie's stubble against his skin. "Your huge ass wife isn't going to scare me away and neither are a bunch of bigots. What can I do to make you believe that? Do I have to kill another fucking space clown for you again? I'm sorry, but that's kind of where I draw the line."

Eddie let out a soft breath of laughter before he leaned forward, pressing his head into Richie's shoulder. "You were really going to stab those guys," he mumbled into Richie's sweatshirt.

"Only if they hurt you," Richie said, hugging Eddie against him. "They better be fucking glad they backed off, because I could have fucked them up, just like I fucked up that clown." Richie paused for a moment before he said, "But Jesus, look at you." Richie pulled away, placing his hands on Eddie's shoulders and staring at him. "You didn't even get short of breath. You never even thought about needing your inhaler, did you?"

Eddie blinked, like he hadn't even realized exactly what he had done. "I…I was just thinking about you," Eddie told him. "Just like when I threw that fencepost at Pennywise – the only thing that mattered was you. I didn't have time to think about myself."

"You're so fucking brave," Richie said proudly. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there to remind me that I had my knife in my fucking pocket. I was too scared to even think straight."

"You were brave too," Eddie said, kissing the corner of Richie's mouth that hadn't been bleeding. "You never hesitate to stick up for me, even when you are scared."

"Cause you're the most important thing in the world to me," Richie told him, kissing the tip of Eddie's nose. "Please know that. But let's get the fuck out of here, okay?"

Eddie nodded as Richie took the car out of park and put it into gear.

"What are you going to tell the others?" Eddie asked tentatively as Richie began the drive back to the inn. "About your lip?"

Richie didn't answer Eddie, because he had no idea what he was going to do. Richie didn't know if he should just cut his losses and be honest about himself and about what had happened, or if he should continue to cover it up like he had for his entire life. Ben already knew part of it, so telling him the rest of it wasn't that much of a stretch. It was just coming out to the others that still scared him. Still made his blood run cold almost as much as it had when he had seen those bullies approaching them.

Richie just didn't know.

About the only thing that Richie was positive about was that he wanted Eddie in his life forever, and if it was the last thing he did, he would somehow get Eddie to believe that. That he wasn't about to give up on the best thing that had ever happened to him just because shit got hard. Just because there were assholes in the world that were hellbent on making their lives miserable.

Richie reached across the console for Eddie's hand, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's ring finger. The place where, until recently, Eddie had worn his wedding band that was now floating down the Kenduskeag somewhere.

Just then, something caught Richie's eye – a store that he remembered passing time and time again as child. He would definitely have to remember that for later.

To be continued…

Author's note: The assholes who beat up Adrian and Don confront Richie and Eddie on the Kissing Bridge. Slurs and punches are thrown before Richie scares them away with his pocket knife. Richie and Eddie get to safety, and Richie calls the police to report the assholes.