Brave
Chapter 16 – The Deadlights

"Honey, I'm home."

Richie poked his head in the door to his and Eddie's room, grinning when he saw Eddie propped up on a stack of pillows on the bed. He had a book laying open on his lap and he glanced up when Richie entered, giving Richie a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I picked us up a couple of salads," Richie said, momentarily ignoring the expression on Eddie's face. Richie closed the door behind him and held up the plastic bag in his hand. He then set the bag and his keys down on the dresser before turning around to face Eddie. He leaned back against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought a light lunch would be better, so we can save room for our romantic dinner tonight."

Richie smiled again, but Eddie didn't return the gesture. That frown line was visible between Eddie's eyebrows as he diverted his eyes back down to his book.

"What's wrong?" Richie asked, because goddamn. Why were things suddenly so weird? It was like when he and Eddie had returned to the inn after meeting those assholes at the Kissing Bridge, only worse. There was a strange tension in the room that was never there between them.

Eddie closed his book with a snap, setting it down on the mattress beside his leg. "I'm really trying to be fair here, Richie."

Richie blinked. "Fair about what?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eddie let out a heavy sigh. "I've given you ample opportunity to tell me the truth about how you feel and…if you're changing your mind about us, I wish you'd just tell me. The longer this goes on, the more you're going to hurt me and…I'd rather find out now than have you string me along for god knows how long."

Richie's eyes were wide, because he had absolutely no idea what had prompted this reaction from Eddie. His very first thought was that Eddie had somehow found out that Richie had lied to him about being at Mike's today, but Richie couldn't see how; he knew that none of the other Losers would have said anything, and Eddie had been here all afternoon, hadn't he?

Swallowing hard, Richie asked, "What? What are you talking about?" He shook his head. "Did Myra call you again? Is that where all this is coming from?"

"No," Eddie said firmly. "I haven't talked to Myra since yesterday. This has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you."

Fuck. Richie had to absolutely no idea what he had done to upset Eddie, but clearly he had done something.

"All right," Richie said slowly, trying his best to remain calm. He hadn't done anything wrong, other than lie to Eddie about where he had been, but he considered that to be for a very good reason. There was no reason to act guilty, so Richie tried his best to ignore the wave of dread that had settled into his stomach. "Then would you mind telling me what it is I did, because I have no fucking clue." He only flinched slightly at the exasperation that was evident in his voice.

Eddie dropped his eyes back down to the mattress, tracing the edge of the book cover with his fingers. He stared down at it like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. "I came downstairs this morning when you went to get us breakfast and I saw you crying." Lifting his eyes back up to Richie, Eddie gave him a piercing look. "I thought you were so fucking happy, but that's apparently not true, is it?"

Richie scoffed, because he couldn't help it. Was that seriously what had Eddie so upset? Richie shook his head, a small smile playing about his lips. "Eddie, I love you, but sometimes you can be a complete and total moron."

It was Eddie's turn for his eyes to go wide. "What?"

"Haven't you ever heard of happy tears, dipshit?"

"Ha-happy tears?"

"Yes," Richie said insistently. He ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to try and relax himself, because he seriously thought he had done something to deeply hurt Eddie somehow. "Jesus, if that's what had you so upset, why didn't you just tell me? Did you really sit here the entire time I was gone, stewing over how you thought I was regretting us?" Richie's tone was incredulous, like he had had never heard anything more ridiculous.

"I…" Eddie said, but then he shut his mouth. He looked down at his book again before he asked, "They were really happy tears?"

"Yes," Richie said again. He pushed himself away from the dresser and approached the bed. He sat down on the edge, but not quite close enough to touch Eddie. "You missed the part where I was telling Ben and Bev about us, and the fact that we both want to get married, and how we're going to have our first official date tonight. I was – I am fucking thrilled, and you can go ask them right now if you don't believe me." Richie held up his hand gesturing towards the door.

When Eddie didn't reply, Richie continued on, "Then when Ben and Bev left to get ready, it just all kind of hit me, you know? Being with you, and being out to our friends, and knowing they still love me anyway-" Richie broke off with a sharp inhale, feeling the familiar sting of tears in his eyes again. He closed his mouth to try and gather himself for a moment, but his eyes were watering, and he only hoped that that would somehow convince Eddie of his feelings. Richie shook his head before he whispered, "I'm fucking happy. Happier than I've ever been in my entire life. I don't know how many more ways I can tell you that."

Eddie swallowed, staring down at his book again like he was having trouble meeting Richie's eyes. "Even with my fucked up ass?"

"I told you," Richie replied. "You're fucked up. I'm fucked up. We can be fucked up together." Richie reached out, placing his hand underneath Eddie's chin and directing his gaze upwards. When Eddie's eyes finally settled on him again, Richie said, "I love you. I've loved you for so long…it's who I am now. It's who I've been for a long time. I don't remember what it's like to not love you. It's as much a part of me as breathing. How can make you believe that?"

"Just…promise you won't ever lie to me, Richie." Eddie's eyes were large and pleading. "I can put up with a lot of shit, but I won't tolerate being lied to."

"You don't need to worry about that, because I have absolutely no reason to lie to you. I promise," Richie said insistently. "I've never lied to you. You know that. You know, except for when I'm making stupid jokes about fucking your mom and shit. But I would never lie about my feelings for you." Richie reached out for one of Eddie's hands. "I love and respect you too much to treat you like that."

Eddie's frown deepened, but then his bottom lip quivered. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead into Richie's shoulder. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry. You're right. I am a fucking moron."

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders and said, "No, you're not. Your mother gave you trust issues and Myra isn't helping. I know that. But, Eddie? I don't ever want you to be afraid to tell me something. I hate the thought of you sitting here upset at me all afternoon."

Especially when I was out shopping for your engagement ring, Richie thought and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from saying it. Oh, if Eddie only knew.

"I wasn't upset at you," Eddie said, pulling out of Richie's grasp. "Not really. I was mostly feeling sorry for myself. I'm coming to realize that Myra has that effect on me. Sometimes she makes me feel like I'm such a mess and she's the only one who will want me like this."

"She isn't," Richie said, "because I want you."

Eddie smiled at first, but then he stared down at his hands in his lap, a frown beginning to overtake his features once again. "But…Richie? If you ever did decide you didn't want to be with me anymore-"

Richie cut him off with a snort. "Which would be never."

"Just humor me, okay?" Eddie asked. "If you ever did realize that this was a mistake, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"First of all," Richie said, "I can't imagine ever feeling that way, because I've wanted this since I was fucking thirteen." Richie bent over slightly and leaned his head down to try and get Eddie to look at him. When Eddie finally met his eyes, Richie said, "But I think you're forgetting something."

Eddie swallowed. "What's that?"

"That we were friends first for a long time," Richie replied. "In the unlikely case that I did fall out of love with you, yes, I would tell you. I'll always love and respect you as a friend first and foremost, regardless of whether I'm in love with you or not, and I would never purposely hurt you by leading you on. Friends don't do that to each other."

Eddie was silent for a long time, but then he said, "Rich…"

"What?" Richie asked when he didn't continue.

"You're in love with me?"

"I'm fucking in love with you," Richie repeated, a grin overtaking his features. He had already told Eddie that he loved him more times than he could count, but he'd never said he was in love with him. Not until now. Richie felt like there was a distinct difference, and apparently Eddie did too. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm in love with you too," Eddie said without missing a beat. He reached up and wrapped his hands in the front of Richie's sweatshirt, pulling him forward. Eddie captured his lips in a searing kiss before snaking his hands up to wrap them around Richie's neck.

Richie sighed into Eddie's mouth in contentment, letting his hands trail first to Eddie's hips and then his back. Richie ran his fingers up and down Eddie's back, mapping out where he thought the scar ran underneath his t-shirt and bandages.

When they broke the kiss to take a moment to catch their breath, Richie asked, "So we're okay then, right?"

"Yeah," Eddie said around a smile. "We're okay. And I'll try not to freak out on you again."

"It's all right," Richie reassured him. He released Eddie's back with one hand, reaching up to cup Eddie's cheek instead. "Any time you feel a freak out coming on, just talk to me, okay? Remember what you made me promise you in the hospital? That if we're going to make this work, then we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets."

"No more secrets," Eddie repeated, laying his hand over the one Richie had on his cheek.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah."

Five minutes later, they had their salads sitting open on their laps and Richie had changed the channel to Chopped on the Food Network.

"I can't believe you watch this," Eddie said. "You don't fucking cook, do you?"

Richie shrugged, finishing his bite of salad before he replied, "Fuck no, but it's still entertaining. I mean, you don't commit murder either, and you watch all that true crime shit."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "It's not the same thing, and you never know. I might be getting ideas for when you tell one too many jokes about my dead mother and I've had enough."

"Which will be never," Richie said, leaning over to place a kiss against Eddie's cheek. "Anyway," he added, lifting up his take-out container for a moment, "this is my type of cooking."

"Do you know how expensive take-out gets?" Eddie argued. "I mean, it's fine when we're living out of a hotel, but if you think that shit's going to continue when we get back to LA, you've got another thing coming."

"'When we get back to LA,'" Richie repeated, grinning. "I kind of still can't believe that you're going to just up and move across the country to be with me. We haven't really talked about it, you know?"

Eddie hummed in response, popping an olive in mouth. "I want to though," he said after he swallowed. "I told you, New York is just…so full of memories of my mother and now Myra. It's…stifling and it's kind of almost as bad as Derry in that respect. I feel like…I'll never really be free as long as I'm there."

"What about your job?" Richie asked, concern ebbing at his voice. "You…you like it there, don't you? And your coworkers?"

Eddie nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do. And my boss has told me that there will always be a place for me there when I'm ready to start working again, but…I want to be with you, Richie. You need to be in LA to make your dreams come true, and I can find a job there in my field just as easily."

"You're the other half of that dream, you know," Richie told him around a smile. "Yeah, I love being able to make my living by making people laugh, but…something always seemed like it was missing. I hated coming home to an empty apartment all the time." He used his fork to push the lettuce leaves around in his ranch dressing.

"You could have gotten a pet," Eddie suggested.

Richie shrugged, turning down the volume on the television so he could hear Eddie better. "I go on tour occasionally. It just didn't seem practical at the time."

"What's your apartment like?"

"I have a penthouse on the beach," Richie said cheekily, "so yes, there's plenty of room for my tiny little Eds if that's what you're asking."

"That's not what I was asking, dumbass," Eddie said, leaning into Richie's shoulder. "It's not a fucking dump, is it? Because we both know I have issues with places that are not up to my standards of clean."

"Jesus," Richie said, rolling his eyes and putting a hand over his heart. "Why do you always act like I don't know you? Believe me, I would never ask you to move in somewhere that would give you a fucking panic attack. My housekeeper, Helen cleans up after my ass. She's also been keeping an eye on the place while I've been away. Just one of the perks of being rich and famous." Richie winked at Eddie.

"So you kind of are a slob, aren't you?" Eddie asked, wrinkling his nose at Richie.

"Not that much," Richie argued, taking a moment to chew on a cherry tomato. "I am prone to leaving my clothes laying around on the floor, and I have a habit of leaving my dirty dishes in the sink for Helen, but I'm not a total slob. I do have basic standards of hygiene, you know. Other than shit laying around and a few occasional dirty dishes, it's clean."

"Mm," Eddie hummed as he considered this. "As long as it's not gross."

"I'm not gross!"

"Says the man who talks about fucking a dead woman every chance he gets."

"Well, you wanna fuck me," Richie said, grinning mischievously. "What's that say about you?"

"I never said I wanted to fuck you."

"Says the man who was sitting on top of me and thrusting into my crotch just yesterday."

"Shut the fuck up." Eddie put another forkful of salad in this mouth, then stared straight ahead at the television. Eddie's face had turned the same shade of red as the cherry tomatoes in his salad. The same shade of red as those lovely shorts of his. The same shade of red as the fire opal stone in the ring that would hopefully be around his finger by the end of the week.

This thought made Richie smile, and he leaned his back against the headboard, staring at Eddie happily. "I love you," he said warmly. Richie pressed his toe into the side of Eddie's foot, rubbing their socks together.

The very corner of Eddie's lips twitched up into a smile, even as he tried desperately to keep the frown on his face. "Yeah, I love you too, you little shit, but stop that," Eddie muttered, gently kicking Richie's foot out of the way. "That tickles."

"My little Eds is ticklish," Richie said playfully, poking his toe into Eddie's foot again. "I forgot about that."

"Oh my god, stop it," Eddie muttered, pulling his foot out of Richie's reach. "I'm trying to eat here. Don't make me regret my decision to move in with you. It's going to be like living with a big giant child."

"Speaking of which," Richie said, "I was thinking about some things. I have two bedrooms, and I mainly use the spare as an office, but it's big enough. We could get you a treadmill, and weights, and all your workout equipment in there too."

Eddie stopped midchew, and it was his turn to stare at Richie. When Eddie finished his bite he said, "This is really happening. You…you're thinking about where I can put all my stuff."

"Fuck yeah, I'm thinking about it," Richie said. He laid a hand across Eddie's thigh, squeezing it gently. "I've kind of been doing nothing but thinking about it since we got back to Derry and I remembered that I was still in love with you. I…kept thinking about dumb stuff too, like how all your toiletries would look lined up on my bathroom counter. And how your big ass suitcase would look in my closet."

"Next to your tiny little duffle bag," Eddie said. "You seriously go on tour and just throw all your shit in there?"

"Yes, because I can carry it on the plane!" Richie argued. "You wouldn't believe the shit I went through the one time I decided to check my luggage and the airline lost my bag. The plane was late on top of that, and I was running around Chicago like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to find a blazer that matched my fucking pants before I had to go on. Never again."

"So you throw your blazers in a big lump in your duffle bag," Eddie said, making a face. "That's a great solution."

"Better than getting my shit lost again," Richie muttered.

"You know the chances of that are relatively slim, don't you?" Eddie asked. "Fewer than six bags per one thousand passengers were actually lost last year."

"Why the fuck do you know that?" Richie looked at Eddie like he had suddenly turned into Pennywise. "You're so fucking weird."

Eddie hummed in response, and then he reached out a moment later to wrap his fingers in the front of Richie's sweatshirt. "That's one of the things you love about me," Eddie said before kissing Richie fiercely.

"Never said I didn't," Richie mumbled against Eddie's lips. "But you're still weird." Richie didn't say anything else as he dove back in.


The sun was on fire and just beginning to dip down behind the horizon when a knock came at Richie and Eddie's door. Richie immediately jumped up off the bed and grabbed the doorknob. He turned back to Eddie and said, "I think our dinner's ready." He grinned before he opened the door.

Beverly poked her head around the doorway and said, "I think there's something out on the balcony for you two."

Richie leaned in to kiss her cheek and said, "Thanks, Bev. Thank Ben for me too."

"Have fun," she said before making herself scarce.

"What did you do?" Eddie asked, staring up at Richie from his place on the bed.

"You'll see." A huge grin overtook Richie's face as he held out his hand for Eddie's.

Eddie took it, letting Richie help him up off the bed and following him out into the hallway. Richie led him towards the back of the building and out the emergency exit that he had used once before. Richie was hit with the most ridiculous sense of déjà vu as he remembered using this very exit to try and run away from this town once and for all. Richie had seriously almost left Eddie behind forever, and he never would have known what they could have had.

Richie stopped and turned around so that he was facing Eddie. Eddie stopped just short of colliding with him, grinning up at him.

"Remember when I almost left Derry right before we fought It for the final time?" Richie asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said quietly, resting his hands on Richie's chest. "And Mike might have died. I might have died. Actually, we all would have died."

"I didn't even think about that," Richie said breathlessly. "I was just thinking about the fact that…we wouldn't be here. Together."

Eddie tucked his head underneath Richie's chin, squeezing his middle tightly. "I'm glad you stayed."

"Me too," Richie mumbled into Eddie's hair before pulling away from him again. He continued to hold Eddie's hand as they made their way around the building and finally to the table that was positioned just beside the staircase that led down to the parking lot. The very staircase that Richie had rushed down on his way to his car that day, barely even noticing the deep green, round table with an umbrella. The very table that he and Eddie were about to have dinner at.

Jesus, if it had even so much as occurred to Richie that he'd be having a candlelight dinner with Eddie, Richie probably would have dropped dead.

True to their word, Ben and Bev had gone all out. Two candles burned brightly in the growing darkness, illuminating the two plates of linguini with alfredo sauce, two glasses of water, and two empty champagne flutes. At the center of the table stood a bottle of sparkling white grape juice, because it wouldn't be safe for Eddie to have alcohol with his current pain meds. When they got closer to the table, Richie saw that one of the plates had a small sign propped up next to it which read 'gluten-free option'. Ben and Bev really had thought of everything.

"This one would be yours," Richie said, pulling out the chair for Eddie to take his seat.

"Rich," Eddie said, his voice sounding slightly awed as he glanced around at the table. "When did you do all this? Is this really what you were doing when you said you were at Mike's?"

"No, and unfortunately, I can't take credit for this," Richie said as he took his own seat on the opposite side of the table. "This was all Ben and Bev's doing. Once I mentioned to them that I wanted to have a nice romantic dinner with you…they took it out of my hands." Richie motioned to the table in front of them.

"I guess I won't hold it against you," Eddie giggled, as he laid his napkin over his lap.

Richie unscrewed the cap off the bottle of sparkling grape juice before he filled both his and Eddie's champagne glasses. Richie cleared his throat before he raised his glass and said, "To us? And what will be the first of a shit ton of date nights together, because we have a lot of time to make up for."

"Fuck yeah, we do," Eddie said, lifting his own glass and letting it clink against Richie's before he took a sip.

They both took a few moments to begin eating their noodles before Richie said, "So, um, you have your doctor's appointment Friday to hopefully get your stitches out. If it all goes okay and the doctor says you're okay to travel…when do you want to get the hell out of this place?"

"The next day?" Eddie asked, pausing in his effort to twirl noodles onto his fork. "I don't fucking know about you, but I'm about ready to leave this shithole behind once and for all."

"Good. Me too," Richie agreed. "I think I was kind of afraid that you were getting all sentimental and getting attached to this place, or some shit."

"Fuck no," Eddie said, after his finished chewing his bite of linguine. A moment later, he looked down at his plate, frowning in thought. When he brought his eyes back up to Richie's, he said, "If you want to go straight back to LA, I won't mind, but I need to go to New York first. Pick up a few things and…stop by the courthouse so I can file those wretched divorce papers."

"No, I'm coming with you," Richie said, setting down his fork on the edge of his plate and taking a drink of water. "Can't let you go back to New York and possibly have to face Myra all by yourself. I think you're going to need some backup."

Eddie smiled, biting at his bottom lip. "I was hoping you'd say that." Eddie picked his napkin up from his lap, using it to wipe his mouth off. "God only knows what Myra has in store for me once I turn up at home, only to grab a few things and leave again. She might be ready to knock me out and tie me to the fucking bed. You know, like in what one novel by what's-his-face."

"Nah," Richie said, scooping up some more pasta on his fork. "Annie Wilkes was an obsessed fan. Not a deranged ex-wife."

"You heard Myra, though," Eddie mumbled, staring back down at his plate again. "She's not going to let me go without a fight. I'm…kind of scared to death about what she thinks might be acceptable in this situation." Eddie snorted, using his fork to stab at some of his noodles. "Like she's going to make me realize I've made some terrible mistake by acting crazy, because that'll definitely make me want to go back to her."

Richie laid his fork back down on his plate before reaching out for Eddie's hand which was sitting on top of the table. "Hey," Richie said, "I'm going to help you, okay? If Myra has anything crazy planned, she's going to have to go through Trashmouth first."

The very corner of Eddie's mouth twitched up into a smile, but then his expression grew concerned. "We can't let her know what's really going on between us though," Eddie hissed.

"God, you really think I'm a moron, don't you?" Richie asked, rolling his eyes.

"No, but Jesus," Eddie said, taking a sip of water. "Can you imagine the fallout from that? Not only would she have a field day contesting this divorce before suing me for all I'm worth, but she'd be just butthurt enough to take to social media."

"Do you think she'd recognize me though?" Richie asked after another bite of pasta. "Do you think she ever got a good enough look at me when you were watching me on YouTube?"

"I don't know," Eddie replied, shaking his head. "All she ever said about you was to call you 'that crass comedian'. I don't know if she ever realized how hot you are or not." Eddie stared at Richie demurely from under his eyelashes.

Richie felt like his brain short-circuited. He stared at Eddie openmouthed for a moment, because Jesus Christ. He was actually having a romantic candlelight dinner with Eddie, who had just told him how hot he was and was staring at him like that. A part of Richie wondered if he had really died and gone to heaven when they had battled Pennywise, because things like this didn't happen to him. Ever.

Richie blinked several times before it felt like his brain had finally gotten back online. "Eh," Richie said, wiping at his mouth with his napkin, "I don't think I'm her type. I think she much prefers small bundles of nerves with six-packs, and I can't say I blame her."

Eddie's cheeks grew a deep shade of red before his fucking adorable little dimples bloomed there, and god, Richie didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing them.

"Not like she would even know I have a six-pack," Eddie said, looking back down at his plate.

"She's your wife," Richie said, staring at Eddie. "I'm sure she knows that you have a six-pack."

"No," Eddie muttered, poking at his linguine with his fork again, "she really wouldn't. We haven't – you know – for ages. Not since I started working out at any rate. That all came after my mother died and I didn't have her breathing down my neck about giving myself an asthma attack by running." Eddie rolled his eyes. "The only times Myra and I were ever intimate was before I even came close to having a six-pack. She doesn't really like the fact that I work out either. Because I might break or pull something. She's ridiculous."

Richie stared at Eddie dumbfounded. It made Richie feel slightly ill to think about Eddie being even remotely intimate with anyone else besides himself, let alone Myra. But at the same time, there was a very weird and empty feeling that settled into Richie's chest at those words. Because Myra was his wife, and truth be told, Richie really just wanted Eddie to be happy, whether it was with him or not. A husband and wife should be able to find pleasure in each other, and while Richie knew their relationship wasn't good, he never imagined that it would be so…empty. So empty and fucking barren.

Goddamn that woman.

"I have to hand it to you, Eds," Richie said, picking up some more pasta with his fork, "she's a piece of work. She doesn't want you working out, because you might hurt yourself. Meanwhile, she's missing the entire fucking point of working out at all – to make yourself stronger and healthier." Richie scoffed. "Probably because she's so fucking insecure in the first place. God forbid you do anything to better yourself."

Despite the topic of conversation, Eddie was smiling at Richie. "I love you, Rich," he said quietly, fingering the bottom of his champagne flute absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief and said, "You know, all my life I hoped to be able to find someone who would just…support me. And it never occurred to me that you were right in front of me the entire time."

"I love you," Richie said, seeking out Eddie's hand on the table again and rubbing his fingers over it. "I always have and I always will. You…you realize that now, don't you?"

"I'm beginning to, yeah," Eddie replied, threading his fingers through Richie's.

Once their plates were cleaned, Richie noticed a comfortable-looking lounge chair in the corner of the balcony. He took Eddie's hand again, carefully pulling him up from his seat and leading him over to the lounge. Richie sank down into it, relaxing all the way back into the soft green cushions. He held out his arms a moment later, motioning for Eddie to join him.

The smallest smile appeared across Eddie's lips before he sat down in between Richie's legs. Eddie slid backwards until his back was against Richie's chest, then he leaned heavily into him, resting his head back on Richie's shoulder.

Richie immediately wrapped his arms around Eddie, hugging him close. "I've wanted to lay down and hold you like this for a long time, but it's a bit tricky in bed. Not quite enough support for your stitches. Are you comfortable?"

"Mmm," Eddie hummed in response, laying his arms over top Richie's. "A lot more than comfortable. I…being in your arms makes me feel safe."

"You are," Richie whispered into his hair, kissing the back of his head. "I would never do anything to hurt you, Eds. Please know that."

"I do," Eddie said around a soft sigh, relaxing even more into Richie's arms.

Just like when they had been in the bathroom and Richie had been changing Eddie's bandages the first time, Richie felt the tension slowly seeping from Eddie's body. It had taken ahold of Eddie once again when he had been on the phone with Myra, but now he was relaxing even more with each passing second. It was like Richie was channeling away all of the tension from Eddie's body, and Richie wouldn't have it any other way. A part of Richie wanted to keep him like this forever, fucking protect Eddie from all the stressors of the world, even though he knew that that was impossible. And he knew Eddie didn't want to be coddled anyway, but just being able to hold Eddie like this sometimes would have to be enough.

"Rich?" Eddie said a while later. "Can I ask you something?"

Richie had almost dozed off, but not quite. He let out a soft hum in response, but then said, "You know you can. Anything." He entwined the fingers of one hand around Eddie's, letting their hands play against each other.

Eddie was silent for a very long time, and Richie almost thought he had decided against his question. A few moments later, however, he asked, "What did It show you in the Deadlights?"

"What?" Richie asked reflexively, even though he had heard the question loud and clear. No one had ever asked him about his time in the Deadlights, and it now seemed so long ago, he doubted anyone ever would. So many things had happened since then – Eddie nearly dying and he and Richie admitting their feelings for each other – it seemed best to leave certain things buried in the past.

"What did It show you in the Deadlights?" Eddie asked again, softer this time. "Is…is it stupid that I never thought to ask you before? After what Bev talked about…I kind of feel bad about that."

"Don't," Richie said, briefly tightening his arms around Eddie. Richie tried to laugh, but the sound came out flat and humorless. "It's not exactly something I hope people will bring up, you know?"

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Eddie said hurriedly. "It just…kind of occurred to me just today that that was probably a pretty traumatic thing to go through, and I wondered if you wanted to talk about it. But you know you don't have to. If you'd rather forget that the entire thing ever happened, that's okay too."

"No," Richie replied. "It's okay." Richie paused, swallowing hard. "It…it's kind of impossible to forget that it ever happened. I've kind of tried to, but it's the sort of thing that sticks in your mind. Maybe…maybe talking about will help, and if there's anyone I feel comfortable talking about it with, it's you." Richie smiled into Eddie's hair, even though Eddie couldn't see it. "I sort of did talk to you about it already, although I wasn't entirely honest about it at the time. But no secrets, right?"

"No secrets."

"I saw you."

"Me?"

"You." Richie's mouth felt dry all of a sudden, so he opened and closed it several times, attempting to get some moisture back in it. "Do you remember that nightmare I had that night you came home from the hospital?"

"Of course." Eddie's hand gripped Richie's tightly in his.

"It…wasn't exactly just a nightmare," Richie said slowly. "That was what I saw in the Deadlights. And it shows up in my dreams sometimes."

Eddie expelled a sharp breath, pulling gently out of Richie's arms. He still stayed seated between Richie's legs, but he turned around in his spot in order to face Richie. Eddie placed a hand over Richie's chest, just above his heart, his fingers wrapping into the cotton of his sweatshirt.

"So all that stuff about leaving me for dead down in the sewers," Eddie said, "that was really what the Deadlights showed you?"

"That was what it showed me," Richie repeated, nodding slowly. "Because It knew that that was the worst-case scenario for me. It wasn't showing me everyone dying like it did for Bev, even though that would have been horrific all on its own. But It knew that losing you right after I got you back would fucking destroy me."

"Rich…" Eddie said, like he wanted to say something, but then he stopped. In the end, Richie was grateful for it, because now that he had started speaking, he just wanted to get it all out.

"And it didn't end there," Richie told him, and he was suddenly aware of how small and far away his voice sounded. "We left you down there, and then we went to the quarry to wash off, and…I fucking cried my eyes out. Ben and Bev were fucking thrilled, because they finally realized they had been madly in love with each other…just as long as we had been." Richie blinked, like he had just realized just how bitter he sounded. "I know they were upset about losing you too, but…at least they had each other. And I was alone. Without you. Kicking myself, because I never had the fucking courage to tell you how I felt. You died, never knowing how I felt."

"I didn't die, Rich," Eddie said, reaching up his other hand to cup Richie's cheek. "I'm right here."

"I know," Richie said. He brought his hand up against Eddie's, pressing it into his cheek and he closed his eyes against the sensation. The sensation of Eddie's warm and very alive hand pressed against his skin. The feeling of Eddie comforting him, and the expression in his very large brown eyes that Richie didn't quite think he'd ever be on the receiving end of – one that Richie now knew was full of nothing but love. Richie's other hand found Eddie's that was laying across his chest and he gripped it firmly in his before he said, "It even showed me going to the Kissing Bridge…by myself. I carved our initials into the wood alone."

"That's why you wanted us to go back there and do it together," Eddie said. He leaned forward into Richie, pressing their foreheads together. "Jesus, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Richie asked, genuinely shocked.

"For being the biggest fucking idiot of all time," Eddie said, pulling back to look down at Richie. "If that's what you consider to be the worst thing that could have happened to you in all of this…your feelings are a lot stronger than I've given you credit for, aren't they?"

Richie found himself smiling despite the seriousness of the conversation. He let go of Eddie's hands to wrap his arms around Eddie's waist instead. "You have no idea. You are everything to me. You are all I've ever wanted." Richie shook his head, not breaking eye contact with Eddie. "Nothing else. Just you." Richie laughed softly before he added, "And for some bizarre reason that I can't wrap my head around, you've felt the same way all this time. And I have no fucking clue what I did to deserve this."

"You were you," Eddie said, before he closed the last of the distance between them. He captured Richie's lips in a kiss and whispered, "And you made me feel like I was enough."

"Do I, though?" Richie asked, turning his head away when Eddie dipped back in for another kiss.

"Always," Eddie replied insistently. "I'm just fucked up for reasons that have nothing to do with you. Can you just be patient while I sort shit out?"

"Anything for you," Richie told him. "But since we're on the subject, I need to apologize to you too."

Eddie frowned deeply. "What on earth for?"

"For not doing something when I came out of the Deadlights," Richie said, his eyes going down to where Eddie had his hands were over top of Richie's chest. "I saw what was going to happen to you. All of it. I saw you getting impaled and your blood splattering all over me. I saw It lifting you up and, throwing you down into the cave, and your blood pouring down your chin. I knew it was coming, and I fucking laid there!"

Eddie shook his head furiously. "Rich, you just came out of the Deadlights! I wouldn't exactly expect you to suddenly make sense out of everything you had just seen and spring into action. Okay? Nothing that happened to me is your fault! Hell, if not for you, I would still be down there!"

"But I could have done something to prevent this," Richie said. He let go of Eddie's waist with one hand, bringing it around to settle his fingers against the front of Eddie's t-shirt, feeling the bandages underneath.

"Is that…" Eddie began, but then he bit his bottom lip, his frown returning. "Is that why you've wanted to help me with my bandages so badly? Is that…why you want to kiss it and make it better? Because you feel guilty for it?"

"I…I don't know," Richie admitted, shrugging uncomfortably. He suddenly wondered if he should have said anything at all, because it felt like they were getting into a tricky area that they may not be able to find their way back from. Would Eddie be upset or angry at him if he had known part of Richie's actions had been done out of guilt? Richie considered trying to backpedal his way out of this conversation, but no. They'd already decided that they needed to be honest with each other, so that was what Richie would do.

"It's okay if it is," Eddie said, seeming to read Richie's thoughts. "I won't be upset at you for it."

"Maybe that was part of it, sure," Richie replied honestly. "But it wasn't all of it. I still would have wanted to do those things regardless of how it happened, because what I told you was true, you know. That's the sort of thing couples do for each other – help when the other one has been hurt or injured."

"But I don't ever want you to blame yourself for what happened," Eddie said, shaking his head again. "I told you when you changed my bandages the first time that I still would have gone after Pennywise, because saving your life was more important than anything that could have happened to me." Eddie hung his head, looking down at his chest and exhaling a soft breath. "Do I wish I didn't have a big fucking hole in my chest? Yeah, and I probably always will, but was it worth your life? Yes. A thousand times yes."

Richie tightened the arm he had around Eddie's waist. "I want you to know that nothing I told you about it was a lie." It was Richie's turn to shake his head. "I still don't think it's gruesome, and I will never stop being thankful that you even thought my life was worth saving."

"I know. I know you wouldn't lie to me about that, but oh my god, Richie, your life was worth all of this and more," Eddie gasped out. He leaned forward gingerly, pressing his chest against Richie's and tucking his head under his chin. "I told you, I fucking love you so much, and I don't know what I'd do right now without you. I could never regret saving your life. Not if Pennywise impaled me a fucking dozen times."

A moment of silence passed between them, during which something occurred to Richie. "I never thanked you for that, did I – saving my life?"

"You don't need to do that," Eddie said, lifting his head to stare at Richie. "I would have done it regardless. No thanks needed. Because that's what you do when you love someone. But while we're at it, thank you for not leaving me down in the sewers."

"Like you said, no thanks needed," Richie said, wrapping Eddie's hands up in his. He brought them up to his chest before he said, "I knew exactly what would happen if I left you down there, and…I couldn't face that. Going through the rest of life without you, just after I'd realized how much I felt for you. I would have rather been buried alive along with you than risk that empty life alone."

"You won't have to know what that's like," Eddie said, shaking his head firmly.

He let go of Richie's hands, running them up to Richie's chest and then to cup the sides of his neck. Eddie leaned forward to kiss him deeply, while Richie wound his arms around Eddie's waist and pressed his tongue into Eddie's mouth.

They were both too caught up in each other to see the shooting star that streaked across the sky just then.

To be continued…