camppetoskey | WEEK 4 - INVESTIGATION

[Yeah... no words are needed. At least, not yet. He leans over Richie, enveloping in him in a hug. He can't hold back his tears anymore, and they start to slip down his cheeks, falling on Richie's blanket.]

[they cry together like that for a while, and Richie wipes at his nose with the back of his hand and a huge snorting snuffle. he's a mess, of course, and he doesn't have any tissues]

Will you freak out if I use my blanket, or my pillowcase or whatever?

[it's the tiniest, weakest smile, but it's there]

[He snorts a little, the smallest laugh he can manage]

No. I don't think it really fucking matters anymore, do you?

Probably not.

[that wrenches another sob out of him, and he wipes his face on the corner of his bedsheets]

Eds ... I'm scared.

[Eddie nods, wiping his own nose on the back of his hand]

Yeah... me, too.

[He pauses before adding quietly]

'sides. If someone doesn't kill us, the rocks in our heads will... right?

[something in Richie's chest seizes, and he turns to Eddie, still red-eyed and red-nosed.

no. no, please don't tell him he found out from someone else. he - he wanted to wait for a quiet moment, not hit him with this first thing in the morning. he wanted to make sure Eddie'd be in as good a frame of mind as possible so this wouldn't put him over the edge and into hysteria. no, no, no. fuck.]

... What?

[Eddie nods, sitting up a little so he's not leaning on Richie anymore. He looks down at his hands.

He's not hysterical. Not at all. He's... tired. One of his friends, someone he looked up to is dead. Someone else, possibly one of his other friends, killed him. He and Gonta interrogated a fucking raccoon and they were all going to die horrible deaths, either by murder or by rocks that were apparently growing in their heads.

Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was REMOTELY FUCKING NORMAL... but this was apparently how his life was going to end.

But none of that hurt nearly as much as the fact that Richie had kept something from him...

He nods again, his voice still quiet.]

Gonta and me... we talked to a raccoon that saw Kanji last night... Gonta told me you saw it in the Lodge....

.... Oh. Fuck.

Listen, Eds - I found it late last night, right before curfew. I freaked the hell out, because - because it's really scary.

[the hurt in Eddie's eyes brings his tears right back - not that they'd gone far at all]

I didn't want to tell you right when I figured we'd probably be finding another...

[he can't, right now, he just can't.]

'cause why? 'cause you didn't think I could handle it?

[He clenches his jaw, looking towards the door]

I... I know I'm not as strong as he was or... shit, as strong as pretty much anyone else here.... but... but...

[His head drops and he runs a hand through his hair, searching for the right words to express his frustration]

But... I'm trying I'm trying to be stronger and... and not freak out as much... and .... I know we might not get through this 'cause this place is just a fucking shit show... but I know I sure as fuck won't make it at all if I don't fucking grow a pair and face it instead'a just fucking hiding from it and pretending it's not there like one'a the kids that came back or something.

[He takes a few breaths. Jesus, he doesn't normally talk this much! But... he has to get this out while he has the nerve to do it.]

And... and I can't do that if you keep shit from me just 'cause you're worried about me, okay?

[it's a slap in the face, even if Eddie didn't raise a hand against him, and the sting is even worse because the more Eds talks, the more Richie realizes how much he screwed up holding onto what he found, even for a few hours. he should have told him right away, the minute he left, instead of running for the only Cabin that still had its lights on just for the comfort of older people.

the comfort of older people.

what a joke that is, he realizes. they're not much older at all. they just look like they have it together. but none of them do. they're all in the same boat, whatever crazy powers they have or what sort of places they came from. this week has just been another hard piece of evidence to that fact. he's silent for a moment, letting all of this anger at himself, at their situation - at Eddie for bringing it up the way he did, off hand, like his mother does when she's had half a bottle of wine before she looks at his report cards.

he's tired. he's so done. he feels awful, but he's tired of feeling awful, too. so he just looks up at Eddie]

We're all slowly turning into stone anyway. It doesn't matter. The only reason they're having us kill each other is because our bodies change faster when we're dead.

[truth obtained. are you happy now?]

[... no. No he's not happy.

He... didn't know that part. That's... that's even worse than he thought. He feels that familiar tightness in his chest that usually signals the start of an asthma attack. One of his hands instinctively goes to his fanny pack... then he freezes.

Memories and thoughts start flying through his head. "Placebo means bullshit" "But they help you, Eddie" "They're gazebos" ... "a mental disease. It's called 'Munchhausen by proxy.'"...

His hands close into fists and he slowly lowers his head to look at his fanny pack.

No... No more.

He fumbles with the clip, releasing it and pulling the pack from his waist. Standing, he storms over to the door, throws it open and HURLS the fanny pack out of the cabin, not caring where it lands.

Letting the door close on its own, he turns and walks back to Richie's bed, looking down at him.]

Then we'd better not fucking die.

[Richie's eyes go wide when Eddie stands. for the briefest minute, he thinks he's going to storm off, to go find Gonta, or someone else he trusts, and vent and scream and leave him there. but then the fanny pack goes flying, and he knows, for certain, that this is the Eddie Kaspbrak who followed them down into the sewers. this is his best friend, and he should have known better than to be afraid that a moment of his own stupidity and paranoia - where the hell did that COME FROM, anyway - would be enough to come between them.

listen to us, the voice had said, on Monday. he's spent all week trying to come to grips with that. with the fact that Talcott is still in there. that all of them are. but mostly Tal, because of what he said to Richie, before he stormed off and left him to die.

he looks at Eddie for a long moment]

There's so much I wanted to tell him about, you know? All of them. Every week, I end up thinking "I wish I could have", and ... I'm sick of it.

There's something I need to do, Eds.

[Eddie nods, all the fear and hesitation gone from his face]

What is it? Can I help?

Yep.

[he takes a deep breath, focusing on Eddie's face. there's strength there, determination, and zero fear. exactly what he needs, right now, too. Richie gives the tiniest of nods.

then he leans in and presses his lips to Eddie's. it's so quick that it barely counts. but it's a kiss.]

[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.]

[that relief he feels every time he wakes up and sees that Eddie's still alive, here? it's multiplied times a million. no, a billion. he's glad he's sitting down, or his knees would have given out, like they did last night in Cabin 2. that seems so far away, now. that terror, the bone-deep fear. it could be in China for all he cares, with Eddie's arms around him. he gives a little breathless laugh]

Yeah, Eds?

[there's some distinct scuffling outside by this point]

[Eddie clings to Richie, his own legs kind of giving out, leaving him to kind of fall onto the bed with him. His tears started to flow again, but this time they were a mix of sadness and joy. He still mourned their friend, but this... this was something new. A lightness in his heart that he had never felt before. Not to this degree, at least.

He pressed his face into Richie's shoulder and cried, just soaking in the feeling of his arms around him.

Then he hears a voice swear outside. He looks up towards the door]

Did you hear something?

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