[Eddie's eyes get wide. Really wide. Like as wide as they usually get before he starts flipping out.
Yet, he doesn't.
He stares at Richie for a long moment, too stunned to even blink. What... just happened... Did he just... he did... but... it's Richie... Isn't that wrong? His Ma always told him it was wrong. That was how you got AIDS and went to hell... but... he'd become friends with Nine and Tal and Ren and they... they were GOOD people, not the kind of people who would be sent to hell, right? It... maybe it wasn't as wrong as his Ma and the news said it was.
But more than all that. More than the potential risk of disease and hell and whatever the fuck other bullshit he'd been fed over the years... was that little voice that simply said "It's RICHIE."
Richie. Who'd been there for him through thick and thin. Bullies and crazy parents and death and monsters... Richie who held his face to keep him from looking at It while he cried and cradled his broken arm. Richie, who was always the first to come running and digging for his inhaler whenever he couldn't get to it. Richie... who was always just THERE.
For every negative thought that ran through his head, there was a good one to contradict it. Then, cutting through everything else, was Ren's voice: "A radical change is happening or will happen soon. It might be positive, but it will be or was a shock to you and shake up everything you thought you knew. Now is the time to let go of things that are holding you back. Nothing will be the same after this."
Mother fucker did a love tarot reading on him, after all.
He blinks at Richie, as his brain finishes running through its gymnastics. Finally he whispers.]
Richie...
[And THROWS himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. He may not fully understand how he feels, or what's going on... but he does know that whatever this is - it includes Richie.]
no subject
Yet, he doesn't.
He stares at Richie for a long moment, too stunned to even blink. What... just happened... Did he just... he did... but... it's Richie... Isn't that wrong? His Ma always told him it was wrong. That was how you got AIDS and went to hell... but... he'd become friends with Nine and Tal and Ren and they... they were GOOD people, not the kind of people who would be sent to hell, right? It... maybe it wasn't as wrong as his Ma and the news said it was.
But more than all that. More than the potential risk of disease and hell and whatever the fuck other bullshit he'd been fed over the years... was that little voice that simply said "It's RICHIE."
Richie. Who'd been there for him through thick and thin. Bullies and crazy parents and death and monsters... Richie who held his face to keep him from looking at It while he cried and cradled his broken arm. Richie, who was always the first to come running and digging for his inhaler whenever he couldn't get to it. Richie... who was always just THERE.
For every negative thought that ran through his head, there was a good one to contradict it. Then, cutting through everything else, was Ren's voice: "A radical change is happening or will happen soon. It might be positive, but it will be or was a shock to you and shake up everything you thought you knew. Now is the time to let go of things that are holding you back. Nothing will be the same after this."
Mother fucker did a love tarot reading on him, after all.
He blinks at Richie, as his brain finishes running through its gymnastics. Finally he whispers.]
Richie...
[And THROWS himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. He may not fully understand how he feels, or what's going on... but he does know that whatever this is - it includes Richie.]