Author's note: What else is there to do but finish a chapter on the biggest game day of the year when I don't know the first thing about sports? I watched the Puppy Bowl and then I moved onto getting this done for you guys. I hope you enjoy!

The Space Between Us
Chapter 11 – Blank Space

When Eddie opened his eyes again, it was to bright morning sunshine streaming in through the living room windows. He was still sitting on the couch, his back screaming in pain at having been in an upright position all night while his head had lolled against the back of the couch. That, however, wasn't what held Eddie's attention.

Richie still had his head on top of the pillow on Eddie's legs, one of his hands resting comfortably on Eddie's knee. His mouth was opened slightly and a small pool of drool had formed on the pillow underneath him. Richie's breathing was deep and gentle, his knees pulled up to his chest. It had been a long time since Eddie had seen him so serene, and it had been even longer since Richie had made it through the night without waking up from a nightmare (excluding the one he'd had the previous evening).

Smiling, Eddie resumed running his fingers through Richie's hair, brushing away the strands that had been plastered to Richie's forehead at some point during the night.

This caused Richie to stir. He mumbled something unintelligible before he turned over onto his back. He opened his eyes and stared at up Eddie, clearly a bit confused over his current position.

"Oh," Richie whispered, a faint blush working its way up into his cheeks. His eyes widened in recognition and he added, "S-Sorry. I…didn't mean to sleep here all night." He stretched, but it seemed more like something to do to distract from the fact that he had clung to Eddie all night.

"Don't worry about it," Eddie said, his smile still present on his lips as Richie's hair looped around his fingers. "I'm just glad you were able to get some sleep."

"At the expense of your back," Richie pointed out, biting his bottom lips in uncertainty. "That…couldn't have been very comfortable. And I know you – having a comfortable place to sleep is high up on your list of priorities."

It was Eddie's turn to stretch, straightening his legs to try and get some circulation back in them. "Totally worth it," Eddie said. "You needed your rest." Richie didn't reply, but continued to stare up at Eddie, so Eddie asked, "How are you feeling?"

Richie opened his mouth, letting out a soft breath of air before he said, "Better." His eyes darted to the windows across the room, to the sunshine beating down, warm against the carpet. "I…always feel better when it's light out." Richie swallowed audibly, the blush deepening in his cheeks. "And hospitals are shit for trying to sleep anyway. Too much fucking noise. It's nice to be home."

It made Eddie pause to hear Richie refer to it as their 'home', because Eddie was pretty sure that Richie still didn't remember any of it. "Do you…Does any of it look familiar yet?" Eddie asked hopefully.

Richie shook his head against the pillow, his eyes drifting down towards his lap. He picked at a loose thread on his sweatpants before he answered, "I wish it did, but…no. But I like it here. I feel safe. Comfortable. And I didn't think I would…considering everything that happened. Or maybe it's the fact that you're here with me."

"I'm glad," Eddie murmured in response. "No more nightmares?"

Richie shook his head again. "No more nightmares. Not when you're here." Richie frowned, concentrating on that loose thread on his pants again. Eddie could see him swallowing before he asked, "What are we going to do today?"

"Anything you want."

"You don't have to go to work today?"

"No," Eddie told him. "My boss knows what you're going through and she told me to take as much time as I need. I told you, I'm going to be here for you as much as you need…or until I start to drive you crazy."

Richie smiled slightly at this, but then his expression quickly faltered. "Well, what about money? I mean, I'm not going to be working for the foreseeable future, so…how long can you afford to take off?"

"We don't need to worry about money," Eddie said. "I don't know if you remember, but we never intended to live in this house forever. We only bought it with the intention that we'd find something bigger and nicer once I found steady work out here, and after you came out publicly and your career settled down. We've been saving so we can make a down payment when we do decide to move, so we have plenty of money to keep us going for a while."

Richie blinked up at Eddie, confusion ebbing into his eyes. "Oh. So…this living arrangement isn't just temporary. It's…long-term."

A lump seemed to settle in Eddie's throat, and he couldn't quite swallow it at first. He opened his mouth to gasp for air, trying his best to keep his breathing slow and steady. It was times like these when Eddie was almost sure that Richie was going to remember something significant about their relationship – when he said certain things, but then that recognition in his eyes would cloud over once again.

Eddie wondered if that dam would ever break – if Richie's memory would ever come exploding back in full force – and what in the hell would happen then. A tiny part of Eddie thought Richie might be a little bit angry at having the truth hidden from him. Maybe Richie would be disgusted at the thought that he and Eddie had had a romantic relationship at all, but more and more, that didn't seem like it would be the case at all. Richie seemed to actually be thriving on being touchy-feely with Eddie, so it wasn't outside of the realm of possibilities that Richie might be okay with being married to Eddie. And then there was always Bill's theory that Richie was still madly in love with him and he'd be thrilled with the idea that he and Eddie had been married.

God, that wasn't too much to hope for, was it?

But then Eddie tried to force his mind back onto the topic at hand, because Richie was still staring up at him, waiting for some sort of response.

Eddie cleared his throat, desperately trying to swallow away that lump before he said, "Y-yeah. As long as you don't get sick of me first, because I told you I'm not going anywhere."

"Mm," Richie hummed as he considered this. "If I was going to get sick of you, I think I would have already. We've been living together for a year, right?"

"Yeah."

"Definitely long enough to change my mind about your uptight, paranoid, hypochondriacal ass."

"Fuck off."

Richie's blue eyes were twinkling up at him, and who the fuck would have ever guessed that bantering would have become such a source of comfort for the both of them? Eddie knew it had morphed into their own private form of flirting, but even before they both realized that (or indeed, even admitted it), it had always been the nature of their relationship. Maybe that was why they had clung to it so much in the lead-up to both their battles with Pennywise – because it was at least one constant in their life they could depend on.

"So what did you want to do today?" Eddie asked just for something to do, because Richie was still staring up at him.

"Well, I have to take a fucking piss and a shower," Richie said, pushing himself up into a sitting position, "because I feel gross." He took a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes and run his hands through his already unruly mess of locks.

"Um, do…you need help with that?" Eddie asked him tentatively. "I don't mind."

Richie shook his head in response. "No, I'll be okay. They only helped me take a shower the first day I woke up in the hospital."

"Okay," Eddie said. "The bathroom's across the hall and you know where the bedroom is. You have t-shirts, sweatpants, underwear, and socks in the dresser. And your toothbrush is the yellow one." Eddie pushed himself forward on the couch, simultaneously inching towards Richie and the edge of the seat. "Are you okay doing those things by yourself? Not physically, but…if you just need me to come and sit in the bathroom with you, I don't mind doing that either."

Richie hesitated, visibly swallowing and considering Eddie's words. In the end, however, he shook his head again. "I'll be okay. It's daylight, I'm awake, and…you'll be here the entire time, right?"

Eddie nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere, and if you need anything at all, just call for me, okay?"

"Okay," Richie whispered, looking back at Eddie over his shoulder. He bit at his bottom lip, like he wanted to say something else, but he had restrained himself.

"Are you hungry?" Eddie asked next. "I can make something while you're getting ready."

Richie scrunched up his face in thought before he said, "A little bit. But we don't…we don't really eat breakfast though, do we?"

Eddie smiled slightly at Richie's words, because it seemed like slowly but surely, little bits of Richie's memory were filtering back in. Maybe, just maybe the larger pieces would eventually come too. "Not huge breakfasts," Eddie told him, "but…we always have a snack in the mornings. Leave it to me. I know what you like."

"And coffee?"

"I picked up some decaf for you the other day, so yes."

"Fucking decaf," Richie muttered, scowling as he finally pushed himself up from the couch. As he had in the bedroom the night before, he swayed slightly on his feet.

Eddie reached out, laying a hand on Richie's arm until he was able to catch his balance. Richie turned his arm in Eddie's grasp as he pulled away, letting his fingers brush against Eddie's. Richie pressed his lips together like he was trying to hide a smile before he made his way around the couch and left the room.

Eddie stayed seated on the couch, burying his head in his hands. He took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes before lifting his head and raising his gaze towards the ceiling. Eddie was feeling slightly better than he had given Richie's seemingly calmer and brighter mood this morning, but Eddie was still left wondering and worrying what might trigger another panic attack in Richie. It left him feeling on edge and like he was on the verge of his own panic attack, and that wouldn't help either one of them.

Shaking his hands to try and release some of his tension, Eddie whispered to himself, "You can do this, Kaspbrak. You're braver than you think."

"Stronger too."

Eddie jumped nearly a mile in the air at Richie's words, because Eddie hadn't even registered the fact that he was no longer alone. Eddie turned around, gripping the back of the couch with one hand and staring up at Richie in the doorway.

Richie leaned against the doorway, wrapping his arms tightly around the t-shirt and sweatpants he had retrieved from his room. "I know this can't be good for your anxiety and I'm sorry," Richie mumbled, staring down at the lump of clothes. "I know you're trying so hard to be strong for me, and I want you to know that I do appreciate it."

Tightening his fingers around the couch cushion behind him, Eddie braced himself for further words from Richie, but none came. Richie didn't even seem hurt by Eddie's words, just regretful that Eddie was involved in this with him at all.

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, fully prepared to begin reassuring Richie that he didn't need to apologize, that he didn't need to feel sorry for leaning on Eddie so much. In the end, however, Eddie decided on a different tactic.

"You know," Eddie said quietly, "I meant what I said last night – you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You helped me get through everything my mother and Myra put me through, and you made me a better person because of it. I wasn't just saying that to make you feel better or less alone. You should know me well enough by now to know that I don't say shit like that just for hell of it. I really feel that way."

A small smile played around the corner of Richie's mouth. "Yeah, I know."

"And I want you know how happy I am that I didn't lose you," Eddie said, staring up at Richie with large round eyes. "Because I was terrified that you weren't going to make it through this, and I don't know how I would have handled that." Eddie's eyes and nose burned and he closed his eyes against the sensation, steeling himself to get through this for Richie. "I couldn't bear the thought of coming back to this house alone. Of not having you to have stupid arguments with anymore." When Eddie opened his eyes again, he firmly held Richie's gaze. "Of…just not having you."

Richie momentarily glanced down at the clothes in his arms again, a faint blush creeping up in his cheeks. "You were really afraid?" Richie asked when he met Eddie's eyes again.

"Terrified," Eddie reiterated. "You can ask Bill if you don't believe me. He witnessed my breakdowns firsthand."

"'Cause of me?"

Eddie nodded solemnly. "Yeah. So…" He immediately cut himself off, pushing against the back of the couch and standing up. He stepped around the sofa and approached Richie, almost close enough to touch him, but not quite. "I want you know that I'm thankful that you're here, that I still get to have you in my life. I wish I could make things better for you-"

"You are," Richie cut him off gently. "God, you are. I don't even want to think about how much more of a mess I'd be right now if you weren't here to help me."

"I just meant that I wish I could make everything better for you right now," Eddie said. "But since I can't, we're going to do this one step at a time, and I'm grateful that I have the chance to even do that. That hasn't changed and it's not going to, no matter where this journey takes us. We're going to get through this together. Trust me?" He reached out with one hand, barely laying the tips of his fingers against the back of Richie's hand.

Richie turned his hand, enclosing his thumb and forefinger around the ends of Eddie's fingers. He nodded once and added, "More than anyone."

"Okay. Me too."

"Eds?"

"Hm?"

"I…um, never thanked you, did I?" Richie asked. "For helping me…through all of this."

"Think nothing of it."

Richie was rubbing his thumb back and forth over Eddie's fingernails, and Eddie briefly wondered if he even realized he was doing it. It seemed almost like a reflex, a muscle memory that had been buried deep underneath all of Richie's pain and trauma. A memory that was still there, fighting to get out.

Eddie cleared his throat before he spoke again. "Go get your shower. I'll make us something. And I'm right here if you need me."

Squeezing Eddie's fingers in between his, Richie whispered, "Always." A moment later, he had relinquished his hold on Eddie before disappearing into the bathroom.

Eddie was left standing in the doorway, watching the light flick on underneath the bathroom door across the hall. He heard Richie messing with what sounded like some shampoo and soap bottles on the sink, probably trying to figure out which ones were his. Or which ones he wanted to use now. When Eddie heard the shower water turn on a moment later, he retreated to the kitchen where he dug their K-cups and bagels out of the cupboard.

Just as Richie had said, neither one of them were ever very hungry in the morning, so they skipped breakfast a lot of the time. Eddie knew that was the most important meal of the day, however, and aside from his once unhealthy addiction to medications he didn't need, it was probably the worst habit he had developed. At some point along the line, Eddie had attempted to change this, which usually resulted in them having a bagel with a cup of coffee in the morning. It wasn't the healthiest breakfast by far, especially with the amount of cream cheese both he and Richie ended up using, but they liked bagels, so fuck it.

Eddie put his gluten-free multigrain bagel in the toaster along with Richie's plain one, because his husband was boring as fuck sometimes. He turned the toaster on before starting to brew himself a cup of coffee.

Just then, Eddie heard his phone ring out in the living room. He rushed to answer it and felt some of his anxiety from earlier start to dissipate when he saw the name on the screen.

"Hey, Bill," Eddie said, slowly returning to the kitchen.

"Hey," came Bill's voice through the receiver. "I just wanted to check in and see how Richie is."

Eddie threw a glance back over his shoulder, checking to make sure that the bathroom door was still closed before he answered. "As well as he can be, I think. Um, he had another nightmare last night, and he was really upset from that, but I got him calmed down. He slept soundlessly through the rest of the night, and…he seems okay this morning. He's taking a shower right now and I'm making us breakfast."

"Has he remembered anything else?"

"No," Eddie said around a sigh. He leaned back against the island counter in the kitchen, waiting for his cup of coffee to finish brewing. "Nothing substantial and…he's still really unsure about a lot of things, but…like the doctors said, it's going to be a process. But right now…I think he's doing okay. Who knows when that might change again, but…we're currently doing okay."

"Good," Bill said before he hesitated. When he finally spoke again, his voice was slightly trepidatious. "Since I'm the head Loser or whatever, I'm supposed to let you guys know that the offer for a party is still on the table and that if you need a break, we're all here to come stay with Richie if you need us to."

"I don't know," Eddie whispered as he retrieved a couple of mugs from a cupboard. He paused again, checking to make sure he still heard running water in the bathroom. He went to the refrigerator to get some creamer before he said, "I'll run the party idea by Richie, but…I'm not sure if it'll be too much for him too soon. He's still settling in and I think he needs rest right now. Not everyone's loud and raucous asses."

Bill snorted into the phone. "That's what I said, but they definitely want to do something while they're still here."

"We will," Eddie promised, finally grabbing his long-awaited cup of coffee. Goddamn, sometimes he just needed that steaming mug in between his hands in the morning to feel like a halfway normal person. "Maybe in a few days. As for needing a break…perhaps in the future, but Richie needs me right now."

There was a heavy silence from Bill before he said, "Promise you'll let me know if you do. Even if you just want to go for a walk or a drive for a while, I'll be happy to come over for a bit. I know you're stressed out too."

Eddie smiled as he finally brought his coffee cup up his lips and took a sip. As nervous as Bill had sounded bringing this up, Eddie knew that his friends were only looking out for him and had his best intentions at heart. Which was a lot more than Eddie could say for some of the other people in his life.

"I'm fine, Bill," Eddie said once he had swallowed his drink. "I am stressed, but…this is where I need to be right now. With Richie. We're…getting through this together."

"Okay," Bill replied. "And I'm only a phone call away if you want to talk or rant. I'm here."

"Thank you."

"Keep us posted."

"I will."

Eddie set his phone his phone down on the counter before he went back to his coffee, taking several more sips. He was just popping Richie's decaf K-cup into the Keurig when he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

"Eds?"

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, turning around and bringing his mug to his lips again.

Richie was standing in the hallway, just on the other side of the doorway from the kitchen. His hair was damp from his shower, and his bare feet were just inches away from where he had laid bleeding out on the floor not so very long ago. Where that horrific pool of blood had formed on their hardwood floor.

Despite the hot coffee pooling in his stomach, Eddie felt a shiver ripple through him.

Richie, however, seemed to have other things on his mind. He gestured up at his head and asked, "Can you, um, help me put fresh bandages on? It's a little hard to do myself."

"Yeah, of course," Eddie said. He set down his coffee cup on the island counter and joined Richie in the hall. "How is it?" he asked as he used his thumb to rub across the area at the back of Richie's scalp where his gaping wound had once been. Where his skull had been peeking out of the skin once upon a time.

The wound itself had closed and the skin was still pink, but it wasn't swollen nor was there any discharge from it – both good signs. Eddie only wondered if it would leave a scar there. If, after Richie's hair grew back, Eddie would still be able to feel it underneath his thick curls. If it would always be there to serve as a reminder of what had happened to Richie on one of Eddie's fucking favorite places to touch his husband.

"It's okay," Richie whispered. "A little tender there, but it doesn't really hurt."

"You don't need your pills?"

Richie shook his head, but then something on the wall apparently caught his eye. He was staring up at the wall to his left, at the very spot where their wedding picture had hung up until yesterday. Richie was blinking at that spot for a very long time, and that scared the shit out of Eddie. While he was glad that that spot on the floor hadn't drawn Richie's attention, Eddie's mind was swimming at the thought that Richie could be remembering more things about them.

"Wasn't there a picture there?" Richie asked, pointing up at the blank spot on the wall before lowering his questioning gaze towards Eddie.

Eddie almost felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, because that was the most concrete thing that Richie had remembered about their time together. It was something so little and so mundane, bordering on their actual relationship, and so very strange that it seemed like that would be what Richie would remember. Eddie had been assuming that the big things would come back first, but that didn't seem to be the case at all. Richie was standing in a house he didn't even remember living in, but he apparently knew where pictures had hung on the walls.

When Richie didn't say anything else, Eddie replied, "Yeah." His voice was strained, because he desperately wished that something more would seem to click for Richie, but at the same time, that thought terrified him too. "Um…it was a picture of us, but…I'm, um, getting it reframed."

Eddie flinched, because fuck. He hated lying to Richie, but he couldn't exactly say he put it away because it was their wedding picture. Then again, Eddie was technically lying to Richie by hiding the truth from him in the first place, wasn't he? Goddamn, he was a shitty husband, but he hadn't quite been prepared for that question.

"Oh," Richie whispered, his eyes going back up to that spot on the wall.

Eddie was afraid to interrupt him, like he would break the spell that Richie seemed to be under. Afraid that he would stop Richie from remembering more, even as he was petrified that Richie would realize how much Eddie had been keeping from him. Maybe Bill had been right in the first place. Maybe Eddie should have told Richie the full truth from the very beginning, because he suddenly had no idea how Richie would react if he remembered it on his own.

But then all once, Richie's eyes were on him again and he asked, "Where's my car? It…it wasn't in the driveway when we came home yesterday."

Eddie almost felt he had gotten whiplash at how fast Richie seemed to be getting flashes of things. Now Eddie knew how Richie probably felt when he had awoken in the hospital to a world that he didn't remember – lost and caught off guard.

"Oh, it's in the shop," Eddie said after a moment. He tried to force his breathing to return to normal, because at least he could be honest with Richie about this. "It needed a new muffler, so we took in before all of this happened. The garage called and said it's done, but I told them we're…going through some things. They're going to hold it until you feel ready to go pick it up."

Richie swallowed as he blinked rapidly several times. He sucked in a sharp breath as he glanced down at the floor, at that spot, and then Eddie saw the tears sparkling in his eyes.

Eddie placed his hand on Richie's back gently and said, "I'm here." He slipped his free hand into Richie's where it hung by his side, gripping it tightly.

"That's why they came in," Richie said, raising his gaze to Eddie. The tears were still swimming in his eyes, but he kept trying to blink them away. To be brave and act like he wasn't terrified at remembering when his life had taken this horrific turn. "Those assholes," Richie said, using his free hand to swipe at a tear that had manage to escape one of his eyes. "They came in, because both our cars were gone. Because they thought the house was empty."

Eddie considered this before he said, "So they weren't targeting you." Relief flooded his voice, because up until now, they weren't sure if those assholes had come for Richie in particular or not. "They must have just wanted to rob the place, and…you interrupted them."

"But they didn't take anything!" Richie said in a harsh whisper, his voice cracking at the end. "That's what I can't wrap my head around!" He pushed his glasses up on his face, rubbing harshly at his eyes. When he let his glasses fall back down to his nose he said, "If they were going to add attempted murder to their rap sheet, you'd think they'd at least make it worth their fucking while and take some shit."

"You scared them," Eddie told him. "They weren't expecting you to catch them in the act, so they probably decided to run when they realized what they did."

"Eddie," Richie gasped out around a sob. It had come with such force and suddenness that Eddie was briefly taken aback by it. Richie's eyes were large and round behind his glasses, and his bottom lip had begun shaking.

"I'm here, Rich," Eddie told him again. He tightened his arm around Richie, pulling him close and wrapping him in a tight hug. He brought one of his hands up to the back of Richie's head, gently threading his fingers through the curls. "You're safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Richie shook his head. "Eddie," he said again, his voice slightly steadier this time, "I think we better call the detective."

Eddie sucked in a breath of air before he pulled away slightly so that he could look Richie in his eyes, searching. "You remember more?"

Unable to form words for a moment, Richie only nodded his head. He swallowed several times and closed his eyes before he was finally able to say, "I remember what one of them looked like. He…he had a dark hoodie pulled up around his face, and that stupid LA Dodgers hat on, but…I remember…I could see enough." He paused and opened his eyes again, staring directly at Eddie, his eyes wide. "Dark hair, dark eyes, and a fucking nose that looked like someone had beat it with an ugly stick." Richie broke off and forced out a laugh he obviously didn't feel. "I guess I shouldn't have told him that, huh?"

"You told him that? Jesus, Rich!"

"I told you!" Richie exclaimed, waving his arms around for emphasis. His voice sounded strained, almost like he was going to start crying again, but the tears didn't quite fall from his eyes just yet. "I'm barely in control of what I say at the best of times! Never mind when I find two strange men in my house! I clearly wasn't thinking, and I got my head bashed in for it!"

"Hey," Eddie said, pulling Richie against him again. Richie went, and Eddie was glad that they were finally past the point of Richie trying to push him away. Past the point of Eddie feeling like he had to physically censor himself around his husband, because they were normally so touchy-feely with each other. Eddie couldn't quite kiss him or do everything else he wanted to right now, but he could at least offer Richie a supportive touch, and that was enough.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Eddie asked, running his hand up and down Richie's back in an effort to calm him. "That was a dumb thing for me to say. Those assholes shouldn't have been in our house in the first place. They were the ones who did something wrong here, not you."

"I know," Richie sniffled, pulling away from Eddie's grasp a bit. He reached up under his glasses again to rub at his eyes. "I just…I always knew my big mouth was going to catch up with my someday, and now, I guess it has."

"Rich," Eddie said, and he reached up too. He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had collected on Richie's bottom eyelashes. "So you piss people off. You piss me off a lot, but that hardly means you deserve to have someone hit you over the head for it. That shit's uncalled for no matter what you say to someone. Especially a couple of assholes who shouldn't have been in our house to begin with."

When Eddie lowered his hands to Richie's shoulders, he added, "Besides, your big fat mouth is one of the reasons-" Eddie immediately bit at his bottom lip to stop the flow of words, because he had been on the verge of revealing way too much about their relationship. "It's one of the reasons why we became best friends in the first place. Although I have no fucking idea why, because you drive me up the wall," he added quickly, hoping to distract Richie from what he had almost said.

Eddie's words had had the desired effect, because the very corner of Richie's lips had twisted up into a smile. "Because it's what we do-" Richie said before breaking off suddenly as well. Eddie could almost see the words forming on Richie's lips, could almost see them hang in the air between them, because they had said them to each other so very many times before. Hell, the Losers themselves had said it to them too more times than they could even count.

It's what we do instead of flirting.

"Because it's what we do," Richie repeated then, adding a noticeable period to his words that hadn't been there before. Even though they both knew exactly what Richie had been about to say.

They both knew, and Eddie really wasn't sure how to handle that. Were Richie's words a reflex action, a vague half-formed memory like remembering that there had been a picture on the wall? A muscle memory, like when Richie had absently run his thumb over Eddie's fingernails just a little while ago? Or was it something more, something Richie was truly feeling in his heart and soul, something that couldn't be beaten out of Richie no matter how hard those assholes had tried?

"Yeah," Eddie agreed, stepping away from Richie before their touch, their words got to be too much. At least he had an excuse though, because he reached for his phone. He started looking up the detective's name in his contacts, because if he stayed that close to Richie, if he kept touching him like they had been, then Eddie was afraid that he might do something irretrievable. And ridiculously stupid. Something he wouldn't be able to take back or explain away.

Eddie's hands were shaking as he brought his phone up to his ear, because he could feel Richie's eyes on him. Could feel Richie's eyes boring into him just as surely as they had been boring into that spot on the wall. That spot that had contained their wedding picture.

It was exhausting to say the least. Richie had so many thoughts swirling around in his brain that he couldn't keep straight, and this really wasn't the best time to let himself get distracted. He currently had a semi-clear picture in his head of one of the men who had broken into his home, and he felt like he needed to hold onto that image first and foremost, at least until the detective arrived.

At the same time, however, everything else was a good distraction. The way Eddie talked to him and touched him, Richie almost felt electricity course through his veins every time they did. The sensation warmed Richie almost as much it terrified him, because he wasn't quite sure where all of it was coming from.

Had he and Eddie always been like this once they had decided to move in together? Richie didn't think things had been like this when they were younger, even though he knew there had always been a certain connection between them. That much was obvious, but they were best friends. Didn't people just click sometimes? That was what made best friends after all. But this…this was something that Richie didn't quite remember between them before.

At least, not this powerful. Was Eddie trying to tell him something? Trying to make Richie feel something, or was that Richie's own wishful thinking? Richie kept going back to what he had told Eddie – he was barely in control of what he said during the best of times – so maybe he should just let his feelings be known. It wasn't like Eddie didn't expect off the wall shit from him, so it was just more of the same, wasn't it?

But then again…Richie's mouth had gotten him into a whole hell of a lot of trouble the last time he had let it run, so perhaps that wasn't the best course of action right now. Especially when he had more pressing things to worry about.

Like the picture on the wall – or rather, the blank space on the wall that had apparently once held a picture of himself and Eddie. Together.

Richie could distinctly remember the bright white frame surrounding it and the overall color of the picture. He thought it had been orangish in nature, perhaps something with a sunset or a scene at the beach. Maybe both. But what he and Eddie had been doing in the picture, Richie couldn't say. They'd probably had their arms around each other and were smiling at the camera, just like a few of the other pictures Richie had seen around the house, but something about that felt…wrong? Inaccurate?

After Eddie had called the detective, he made Richie sit down at the island counter and eat some of his bagel. Richie's stomach felt like it was tied up in so many knots, that image of one of the invaders hanging in his mind like a dark cloud, but he managed to choke down half of his food.

The entire time he gnawed on his bagel, he kept turning his barstool around, eyeing that blank space on the wall. Like if he stared at it long enough, it might make the picture magically reappear somehow. The picture that Eddie said he was getting reframed.

Richie wondered what had even happened to it that it needed a new frame. Perhaps it had something to do with those assholes who had attacked him, and Richie really wasn't sure he wanted to know if it did, so he knew better than to ask.

After Eddie helped rebandage Richie's head, they settled onto the couch with their coffee. That was really when the gravity of the situation began to hit Richie – that he would have to relive the night of his attack in as much detail as he could remember. That asshole's face with the nose that begged for apocalypse was still hovering inside his mind, but as long as Richie had been focusing on his relationship with Eddie, on the small details around their house, he could draw his attention away from it at least a little bit.

But now the time when the detective said he'd arrive was quickly approaching, and it was forcing Richie to dwell more and more on that part of his memory that he would rather forget. That he was going to have to lay all out on the table for everyone, and he didn't know if he could do that. Didn't know if he could relive that part of his past again.

Eddie seemed to sense this, because he pulled Richie's coffee cup from his hands and set it on the table. He turned to face Richie, pulling one of his legs up on the couch so he could pivot in his seat.

"Listen," Eddie said, immediately reaching for Richie's back, "I'm going to be here with you the entire time. You're safe, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Okay?"

Richie forced a nod he didn't really feel before he leaned heavily into Eddie. Despite Eddie's assurances to the contrary, Richie wondered if he was overstepping his bounds by accepting Eddie's help so much. By accepting his touch so much. Eddie didn't seem to have a problem with it in the least, but Richie wondered if deep down, he was hoping and praying for a time when he wouldn't have to treat Richie like a goddamn baby.

But everything about Eddie – his touch and his words – made Richie feel so very safe, and that was all he wanted right now. There was something there – something that clicked and fell into place – almost like he was going home every single time he and Eddie shared a tender moment, and Richie didn't think he'd ever get tired of that feeling.

Even though Eddie probably would. If he wasn't tired of it already.

Just then, the doorbell rang and before he could scarcely process it, Richie dug his feet into the carpet, pressing himself impossibly hard into Eddie. His heart leaped up into his throat, making it hard for him to breath. He gasped for air and turned himself in Eddie's grasp, facing the hallway and the door beyond. He was trying to prepare himself for whoever the hell wanted into his home, even as much he simply wanted to bury his head in Eddie's chest and never look again.

"I've got you," Eddie whispered, his lips so very close to Richie's ear. It made Richie shiver, but Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie from behind, holding him close. "It's just the detective, okay? You're safe. Nothing's going to happen to you."

"Oh, shit," Richie muttered. He forced himself to take a deep breath, to get himself to stop shaking, even though his heart felt like it was pounding a hole in his chest. "I know that, I just…" The heels of his feet were still pressing into the carpet, like that action alone would save him from whoever the hell was at the door. Even though he knew who was at the door and he was acting like a goddamn lunatic. What in the hell was the matter with him?

"I don't fucking know," Richie whined, and he felt like a baby all over again. He felt like a stupid, pathetic child who could barely even take care of himself and who needed someone to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Shh," Eddie hushed him, his breath warm on Richie's ear. And Richie liked that feeling, and he wanted Eddie to do it again. As much as this certainly wasn't the time for such things!

Eddie ran the fingers of one hand up and down Richie's chest while the other one curled firmly around one of Richie's shoulders. "I know," Eddie said, even though Richie thought he had done a shit job of explaining himself. Hell, he didn't even understand what in the hell he was feeling, so how did he expect Eddie to get it?

"It's the detective," Eddie repeated. "Remember we called him? Nothing's going to happen to you."

"I know," Richie mumbled, even though he didn't. "I just – fuck."

"Listen to me," Eddie said, pulling Richie even closer. Richie thought he could feel Eddie's lips on the shell of his ear and that thought almost made him crazy. Even crazier than he was already feeling. "I promise I won't let anyone hurt you. I stabbed a fucking space clown for you, and I'd do it all over again if I had to. I promise. And have I ever lied to you before?"

"Yeah," Richie said absently, the answer coming to him almost naturally. "That one time when you said you fucked my mom. That's my line, remember?" Richie felt the muscles in his legs relaxing, and he thought he could finally catch his breath, even as it was still coming hard and fast.

"Other than stupid stuff like that," Eddie said. "Have I ever lied to you about anything serious?"

Richie could only shake his head in response, feeling himself relaxing into Eddie's touch.

And then there it was again – the doorbell followed by three quick knocks at the door, and that did fuck all to help with Richie's state of mind. Richie willed himself to remain calm, however, tried to hold onto Eddie's words. Eddie's promise to him. Tried to remind himself that it was just the detective – the detective they had called – so why did Richie want to jump out of his own skin at the sound of someone outside the door? Why was he being so ridiculous?

"I'll be right back," Eddie said, slowly releasing his hold on Richie and getting up from the couch. "I'm just going to let them in." Eddie made his way through the living room and into the hallway towards the front door, calling, "Yeah, I'm coming!" as he went.

Richie remained seated on the couch, his hands drawing into fists in the fabric of the cushions. Despite all of Eddie's assurances to the contrary, Richie didn't know if he could do this. Even though Richie wanted nothing more than to put those assholes who had hurt him away. Why had Richie ever suggested that they call the detective again? Richie had wanted to tell the detective what he remembered before it faded away again, but Richie doubted that that would ever happen now. That asshole's face seemed to be burned in his memory, cruel and looming over him. In fact, he didn't know how he had ever forgotten it in the first place.

Turning in his seat, Richie glanced into the hallway behind him where he could just see that blank space on the wall – the place where their picture had once been. Burning bright orange in their sea of white walls and furniture. Richie knew that now as much as he was aware of his own name. It had been orange, a burst of color and fire that Richie had liked looking at. He wasn't sure how he knew that either, but just looking at that space on the wall felt comfortable. Made him feel like he wasn't so lost anymore. Like an anchor, something that was keeping him grounded in the swirling mess his mind currently was in.

Richie's heart was still pounding impossibly hard in his chest, and he desperately wished he could see that picture – bright orange with him and Eddie grinning at the camera. Richie felt like if he could see that, then things might feel okay again. That Richie's crazy mixed up world just might right itself.

Heart beats fast. Colors and promises.

Richie wasn't sure where those words had come from, but all of a sudden, they were there, just like everything else that was flashing through his mind today. Perhaps it was the fact that Richie was home, that he was in the same place where those assholes had attacked him.

Was that from a song that he and Eddie liked to listen to? Richie thought so, but he couldn't quite remember why or which song it was from. After the detective left, he'd have to ask Eddie to play it for him. Maybe it would help to stir something else in his memories, because right now, it was driving him crazy. It felt like it was floating somewhere in his mind, just outside his realm of consciousness, but he knew without a doubt that it was there. Just like an itch he couldn't scratch.

It was there.

To be continued…