Note: Some explaining, some falling action, one more after this one! Enjoy!
Eddie blearily gazed through the opening, feeling his strength weaken. Its' child did not answer his implied question, but indicated they were close. Eddie readjusted Richie's unmoving body with his borrowed arm.
He sighed and wondered if things had gone too far, if he should've explained everything to start with, but the voice accompanying his thoughts seemed to think that he had messed it up by saying too much.
Eddie groaned and continued climbing through the tunnels. At least Richie was moderately safe now-as long as he lasted until they reached the surface. Eddie knew this had been against the original plan the monster within him had pushed, but with the way things had turned out, Richie might have more control. And if Eddie was honest with himself, he didn't mind Its' other children being injured.
Eddie continued on, using his internal compass to find his way out of the hellish sewers. It wasn't as easy as it once was-there was the constant distraction of the little It inside his mind-but he managed to get them most of the way before the creature inside him ran out of the power behind his fabricated arm.
"Really?" he asked as Richie fell to the floor. There was only the equivalent of a groan in answer as it slipped further back in his mind. The one occupying his body truly was the runt of Its' brood and seemed unable to keep up its shape sifting for extended periods of time. It was currently using Eddie's body as a barrier from the outside world as it developed.
He had grown used to its near-constant chattering in the weeks it had taken residence inside him. Occasionally it would try to take control of his body, yet often failed due to its own weakness-expedited by keeping his body (its only protection) alive. It had also tried to make its siblings help, but they were only interested in taking control of Eddie's body by force to escape the underground. The runt refused to give up its prime real estate, so they remained in the sewers until they came up with another plan.
Eddie was the one to realize they had a connection to Richie through the Outside. He didn't quite understand it, despite the others explaining it-rather condescendingly-several times. (He never tried to connect to Bill. It just didn't-he just couldn't.)
Either way, one day he was able to see Richie as he dreamt and from there, it was only a matter of trial and error for the remaining children of It to project images to him. Of course, they were prone to use fear-inducing projections and when Eddie was assisting them, he often found himself caught up in the mix of three otherworldly beings. Which, in retrospect, was probably what took them so long to convince Richie to come.
Speaking of Richie, Eddie carefully lifted him with his still-healing arm. A sharp bolt of pain shot up his arm and Eddie moaned. He pulled Richie up and bit his lip through the pain.
It's just like getting a shot, isn't it, he thought. His mother's hysteric voice seemed to ricochet afterward. "A little pain is nothing compared to polio!"
Despite himself, Eddie chuckled and it echoed off the sewer walls. As was typical those days, his laughter quickly grew fevered until he was crying-sobbing really-as he held Richie in the dark.
Eddie found it easy to convince the doctors that they needed a shared room. Being a few weeks after the incident downtown, the hospital had released most of the survivors though it was still low on staff. Richie had been rushed into emergency surgery and Eddie had agreed to have himself looked over while Richie would be out. He knew they would try to reset his arm after he'd dragged Richie from the sewers while it still wasn't fully healed, but he managed to convince them he didn't need to be put under.
It was a gross negligence of them to agree, but Eddie knew his research and he knew he had to be awake when Richie woke up. He couldn't afford to be under or coming off anesthesia when the shit hit the fan.
It didn't even hurt that much-compared to the pain of something foreign moving in his veins, his organs, filtering out the poison (the bodies It left behind… It itself, he quickly shook the memory away) Eddie had been forced to eat in the sewers. It had never been particularly kind while keeping him alive and it seemed to revel in the pain it caused him, so a simple bone resetting with local anesthetic was really nothing at this point.
He still hadn't slept when they wheeled Richie into recovery, but he lifted himself up to go sit next to the unconscious man. He couldn't seem to rest when there was so much at stake. How much would Richie remember? Could he forgive Eddie? Would he understand?
There were of course other issues feeding into Eddie's anxiety. How far gone were the other children of It? Would they be able to influence Richie? Would Richie actually be there when he woke? Had he assisted their enemy in killing one of his allies-one of his friends?
Then, a nagging feeling from the voice accompanying his thoughts. Was Mike still in Derry?
Eddie himself was not as concerned with Mike's whereabouts-he actually would jump at the chance to see him again after what he went through in the sewers, but of course, there was the issue of what he'd planned to happen with Richie… and the children of It still being alive.
It might be best for both of them if Mike had already abandoned the town.
While mulling over the many possible outcomes and ways the situation could become more fucked up than it already was, Eddie found his hands nervously gripping Richie's arm. It was familiar as he had probably done so with all of the Seven and vice versa at some point during their trials with the monster that pursued them unceasingly.
Eddie settled further beside Richie as he felt his train of thought slipping down different tangents, imagining getting lost in the infinite maze of his mind. At one time, Eddie could have wandered those paths endlessly-keying himself up into a panic attack only his inhaler could fix, but he was older (and his inhaler had been destroyed with It). It was simple enough to calm his breathing with techniques he'd learned from classes his wife made him take (he wondered briefly how she was doing-had he been announced dead yet?).
It was only a few more moments before he was unconscious, hands still wrapped tight around Richie.
