Chapter Text
Eddie has always believed that time changes people.
It’s the universal truth and he doesn’t have enough fingers to count how many changes have happened right before his eyes throughout his life.
Many things provoke change- from a new circle of friends, to another asshole president- but the most fundamental changes may take months, years, and even decades.
If Eddie looked back five years, he wouldn’t have recognised himself. He was a sickly, scared beyond belief child who was afraid to even step a foot out of the house and he really, really wants to believe that something has changed since then, but that's not exactly true.
Eddie dealt with his fears with the help of certain people who gave him so much comfort and inner strength that sometimes he couldn't believe his own luck.
Until he ran out of it.
Light, warm, late August breeze comes in through the open window, slightly undulating the curtains, and the clock on the bedside drawer shows 11 p.m. Eddie is in his bed, has been for a while, since his mother dismissed him after lecturing him over dinner about the same thing as usual before the school year starts.
You’ll have to focus on studying and studying only this year, Edward. Imagine how humiliating it would be if the Church found out that my son had been held back because he couldn’t pass his senior examinations. I hope you understand the responsibility this year has put on your shoulders.
And damn, it’s still hard to believe that his senior year of high school is just about to begin, but the calendar on his wall, no matter how many times Eddie has looked at it, still shows today as the 31st of August. Tomorrow he will cross the threshold of the Derry High School for his final first day before leaving this place and never looking back.
Eddie allows himself to relax into the comfort that that thought brings, closing his eyes and letting the ruffling sound of leaves coming from the window slowly lull him to sleep, sinking into the warm, quiet comfort he so desperately needs right now before school starts.
Eddie has always had pretty high grades and has gotten along well with most of his teachers, who have always called him a hardworking, easy-to-teach student, but it won’t be enough now- not during senior year. School connections won’t help him pass finals with straight A’s and get into a decent college.
And Eddie has always been a responsible person who understands the importance of studying, always turned his papers in on time, and even if he did miss classes, and each time he had a valid reason for his absence. It’s not like Eddie could spend his free time on anything else except for homework, sometimes even getting ahead of the coursework, which always paid off later.
While his peers were going out, wasting their parents’ money on junk food and going to the movies, Eddie spent days away in his room or, rarely, outside in the town square with some book or his walkman. Sometimes his gaze lingered on careless children running around the playground, middle schoolers shrieking with laughter or teenagers smoking in the alleys, but Eddie always almost immediately turned his attention back to his book or the very entertaining tips of his shoes. A few years ago he had been one of these kids, spending hot summer days outside and going from the quarry to the ice cream shop and back, not caring about anything other than comics and his friends.
Until the summer of ‘89.
No matter how often Eddie tried to will those thoughts away, how hard he tried to suppress those memories, worn-out and blurry, they seek him out in his sleep almost every night. Even though he was getting better and better at repressing those memories with time, it still haunted him- the paralyzing fear of what had happened that summer when Eddie almost…
It’s all a blur, only separate pieces that make almost no sense together, but the clearest thing Eddie can see is seven friends tied together as a result of certain, often harmful circumstances, who were each other’s everything until they just… weren’t.
The first one to leave was Beverly.
Hardly a week had passed since the fateful day that had changed all of them forever when her aunt came and took Bev away to Portland. It all happened so fast; first, the fruitless investigation of her father’s death, then, looking for relatives that would take on a now orphan teenage girl, and Beverly barely had time to say goodbye before leaving Derry forever.
She promised to call, took all of their numbers, but it’s been four years since her aunt’s car drove out of town and Eddie hasn't heard from her, not even once.
Ben was the second.
His parents, having noticed the bandages on his stomach, constant fidgeting and nightmares, hearing the quiet, embarrassed murmurs about how their son was treated by his classmates, found a new house in Baltimore, where Ben’s father had been offered a job, in just one and a half months, and moved there by the end of summer so that Ben could transfer to a different school before the beginning of the school year.
Saying goodbye to him was even harder, and not a single call or a letter came since Ben waved at them from his father’s truck filled with boxes.
The third one to stop coming to the clubhouse was Mike.
They had always met up with him after school when Mike managed to get away from his grandfather, but after that day it became less and less frequent until he just stopped picking up the phone. They didn’t even get to say goodbye because Mike is still in town, Eddie still sees him from time to time, but never finds it in himself to call after him. He isn’t sure if he'll get a warm, sincere smile, or any reaction at all in return.
The only ones whom he has stayed in touch with and exchanged a few words here and there in the past few years are Bill and Stan, but they can’t be considered friends, at least not like before. Perhaps their friendship wasn’t as strong as it seemed and couldn’t survive what had happened to them all. Perhaps another mutual trauma should’ve made them even closer, but instead it all turned to dust.
Perhaps if you’re broken inside and rely on someone who’s just as broken as you, or even more so, with a gap- a hole- in their chest, you either sink together, drag each other down until there’s nowhere to go, or fall apart like you never even knew each other at all.
Perhaps it was all a matter a time; another stroke of luck, a godsend with a return address, and just as Eddie got used to it, let himself relax and let his guard down, allowed himself to enjoy the only good thing in his life, fate smirked at him and took it all away, tore it right from his heart until all he could do was bleed loneliness in his room with no chance of salvation.
It was hard in the beginning, for all of them. You can’t just continue living as though nothing has happened after something like that, and they made a promise to not talk about it, which made Eddie more than happy. They returned to something distantly close to a normal life, smiling at each other, and meeting in the clubhouse, and going to the movies as though everything truly was okay.
Eddie didn’t know how everyone else was feeling, what they were going through, didn’t know if they woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, fighting for every breath, but it had only become worse with time, no matter how many times he tried to quiet the roar fighting to break free from his chest. At least not when he was alone.
And then the Losers fell apart.
Nightmares haunted him nearly every night, nightmares that made Eddie want to rip off his sizzling skin and tear out his hair just to soothe the blinding pain, and fuck, a few times Eddie came so close to it, throat constricting with stifling oxygen from just the thought that he was all alone, and after getting to experience what it’s like to have friends, coping with loneliness and the quiet void that was left in his chest in the shape of six people was almost impossible.
In about a year Eddie just… got used to it. Accepted his fate, maybe. Those wretched thoughts and repressed emotions were threatening to consume him and drag him down until there was nothing left of him, and Eddie just couldn’t do it anymore. He had to choose between letting go and sinking into nothing after almost not making it out of the depths of Hell.
And wouldn’t it be funny? Escaped from the living nightmare, but not from himself.
That’s why Eddie threw himself into the things that were left — school, books, music, rare movie nights and dinners with his mother, just like today.
He didn’t have much time to spend by himself this summer, even though he was trying his best to get rid of his mother’s constant presence with all the passive-aggressiveness he could master. Summer break had hardly started when Sonia declared that they were going to spend the next two and a half months with her sister in Melbourne, and Eddie simply nodded and started packing.
There was no use in arguing and no valid arguments either, because what else could he spend the summer on? It’s not like his mother would allow Eddie to stay home all on his own. You can’t do without me, Eddie bear.
She was pretty much right. He doesn’t think he could spend so much time alone with himself.
This summer turned out better than the previous three — his aunt seemed to read Eddie’s mind and always distracted and softened Sonia whenever he wanted to go to the local beach or explore downtown. Of course, in that case Eddie was forced to put on at least three layers of sunscreen that was almost instantly washed away by the crystal clear ocean which he grew to love after his aunt convinced Sonia that saltwater wasn’t harmful in any way. That didn’t stop her from muttering under her breath while watching him leave the house and blaming sunscreen companies for the insufficiency of their useless products — Eddie’s skin, now covered in bronze freckles, was glowing with warm gold more and more with every passing summer day.
Melbourne has had a better impact on him that Eddie could’ve imagined. His aunt sometimes took him to the mall and even allowed to eat whatever he wanted when Sonia wasn’t looking, and Eddie used it as an opportunity to gain at least some kind of freedom.
However, when he came back to Derry, all that freedom flew out of the window like it was never even there.
Eddie has always been one of those people who arranged their outfits before the first day of school, college or work. He likes thinking such things through, likes having this ounce of control over his life even if they were just clothes, and now after finally getting a whiff of the long-forgotten freedom Eddie wants control even more.
Tomorrow surely won’t turn out to be as important as it seems right now, with excitement and anxiety fluttering like butterflies in his stomach. It’s so strange that summer can erase all the bad memories of what happens in school on a daily basis and just how much you dislike, even hate it, but now all Eddie wants is to finally find some peace and freedom from his mother for at least seven hours a day.
It’s a stupid thought, because there surely won’t be any peace or freedom in the senior year of high school, and Eddie is scared of what’s ahead of him; however, he can hardly wait for the beginning of a new chapter that he’s anticipated since the first coming-of-age movie he ever watched.
The possibility of failing his finals is the worst-case scenario, because then Eddie will be stuck here for another year and it will be so humiliating, Edward.
Tomorrow will be the first step of getting out of here and leaving as many miles between him and Derry as possible, the place that has broken him forever, left him with trauma and no way of coping with it, not if you don’t want to be labeled as mad.
No one will ever believe that at the age of thirteen you…
Hiding his face in a pillow and diving under the covers, Eddie shuts his eyes and sighs one last time, breaking the wings of the unwanted butterflies in his stomach and pleading his body to go to sleep. Being late on the first day of school surely won’t be a good start.
***
He understands that there was absolutely nothing to miss the second he steps his foot in the school.
Of course, it is refreshing to finally get out of the house and be surrounded by familiar faces, but with that also come the memories, as does the murmuring in the hallways, sideway looks and not so kind words thrown so carelessly as though they mean nothing.
The same locker, which he scrubbed more times than he can count in freshman year to get rid of black sharpie, with the same combination where Eddie hurriedly leaves his textbooks before going to class.
Almost nothing has changed, but the mere thought that it’s the last year, the last time he ever had to come back here, somehow changes everything.
Eddie only has five classes today, but they are all pretty much the same — teachers telling them about how hard they’ll have to work in senior year and discussing finals and their programs for this semester. He writes every little thing down and is already planning on doing homework (who even gives homework on the first day?) when he comes home.
The cafeteria, probably his least favorite place in the whole school, is already filled to the brim. It was never a problem to find a vacant seat somewhere near the corner, but when Eddie takes his lunch and scans the room for empty seats, he finds nothing — most of the tables are overflowing with people loudly talking to each other and filling the cafeteria with laugher too sincere and bright for the first day back at school.
He has no desire to talk to anyone just yet, but his stomach is practically rumbling and Eddie really doesn't want to miss lunch. So, he sighs and chooses a more-or-less peaceful looking, half-full table and heads to it.
“Hey, Kaspbrak!”
A familiar voice calls out to him from the table nearby and Eddie knows that playing dumb will make everything worse, so he heavily sighs before turning around.
Tyler is sitting surrounded by his gang with that signature smirk on that annoying face and Eddie almost goes rigid from the cruel amusement tingling in the eyes that are trailing him from head to toe. It feels as though the whole school is looking at them right now, but in reality anyone hardly cares, not sparing a second glance in the direction of one of the biggest assholes who prefers to be called a golden boy looking for some fun on this boring day.
It’s none of their business as long as no one bothers them.
It’s not like this hasn't happened before and not like anyone can put an end to it.
Tyler, as it seems, doesn't even care that Eddie hasn't responded, so he leans in closely on the table and continues looking at him like he’s at the premiere of a movie he’s been dying to see for eternity. Or, more like three months of summer.
“Have you gone deaf over the summer?” comes the second voice, now James’, from the same group.
Eddie’s more than sure that it’s James who was responsible for the writings all over his locker a few years back and most of the rumors that spread through the school within hours whenever Eddie did something that upset him or did nothing at all. There just was no escape from it.
“Don’t be mean to the boy, James. He doesn’t have a place to sit,” Tyler smirks, and fuck, Eddie already knows what's gonna happen next from the confident yet harsh glint in his eyes. “I've got a place for you right here.”
Tyler pats his knee and the laughter that erupts after his words finally brings Eddie out of it.
“Thanks, but I’m gonna have to pass,” he grits through clenched teeth and makes to turn around and go to that half-taken table he'd noticed earlier, but doesn’t manage to even make a single step before someone stands in his way.
“Fuck, this summer really did you good. I thought there was no way you could get any prettier, but here we are,” James says, looking him over so shamelessly that Eddie’s skin goes uncomfortably tight and tingly. “Did you buy these shorts in the girls’ section? Although I can’t say I mind, they make your ass look like a piece of cake.”
These words hit him so hard for a moment Eddie forgets how to breathe, feeling his face grow pink with both anger and humiliation, like he hasn’t gotten used to it with years and years of disgusting catcalling of his everything on a daily basis, but right now he feels so gross and wants to be anywhere but here, under James’ tacky gaze.
His cheeks redden with every passing second of stunned silence and his arms shake where they're holding the tray with the need to shove the hem of his shorts as low as possible to cover as much skin as he can, just to stop James from gawking at him like that.
His company’s shrieks of barely covered up laughter drown in the sound of a rapid heartbeat in Eddie’s ears and he tenses, locks up and shrinks so deeply that he almost drops his tray when he feels the hand on his shoulder.
“Eddie, are you alright?” Bill asks, stopping right next to him with a worried yet determined expression on his face, looking from Eddie to James and back. “Want to sit with us?”
Finally exhaling in what feels like the last few minutes, Eddie abruptly nods and turns to Bill, not sparing James another glance, knowing that he's angry at Bill's interruption.
“See you around, cutie,” James says at last before returning to his table and Eddie tenses even more, the reassuring hand on his shoulder not helping even a little.
Cutie.
His insides go strangely cold at the pet name and he doesn't want to think about what memories it is tied to.
Only he feels the eyes that he hasn't felt in years watching him among all of the others, but maybe it's just a feeling.
Stan, who’s already waiting for them at the table, gives Eddie a warm, sympathetic smile when they finally sit down next to him, but Eddie really doesn't feel like discussing what’s just happened, especially listening to Bill’s resentment.
The only thing he wants is to ask Bill why he invited him to sit with them and not pass by like he’d been doing these past years, why the hell did Bill even lend him a hand after what’s happened between them? But he manages to stop the words that are already gathered on the tip of his tongue and lowers his gaze to his plate.
Eddie’s thankful, really, because the last thing he wanted is to start a fight right in the middle of the cafeteria on the first day of school. What would his mother say if she found out that he got into an argument, especially in senior year, when all of your attention should be focused on studying and not preposterous intrigues, Eddiekins, just like she told him this morning at breakfast before Eddie ran off to school.
Like he's responsible for the fact that some jerks can't seem to leave him alone, calling Eddie names, and spreading nasty rumors, and carelessly ruining his days one after another.
Eddie won’t let anyone or anything ruin this day, this week, this month, or, most importantly, this year.
Stan and Bill, who appear to have understood that it's better not to mention what’s just happened, are talking about something school-related and, to be specific, Bill’s possible scholarship. It’s no secret that this year one member of the school's football team will be offered a state-financed place in a good college, and Bill is at the top of that list with his great academic record and skills on the field, so he more than likely will be the lucky one.
Once or twice Eddie participates in the conversation, giving Stan, who offers him to join some kind of examination preparation course, a tight, brief smile and shaking his head, saying he already has everything covered.
You won't be studying with a tutor, Edward. Did you know that two years ago Monica Corcorans’ son’s tutor tried to molest him? I was horrified when she told me. I’m not letting those filthy people anywhere near you.
Eddie would’ve laughed at her, but she could've homeschooled and locked him at home for all he knows. Away from their filthy hands, Eddie bear.
Maybe it’s not a good idea to tell her about how exactly her son is treated at school.
It has gotten worse and worse over the years — Eddie was growing and so did the attention from people that didn't think he was worth a second glance before, including assholes like Tyler and James. And Eddie would have been lying if he said that he didn't enjoy it, at least a bit. Before, school bullies bothered him just because he was an easy target, but with the years, words thrown at him changed from you're such a fucking loser, Kaspbrak to how much to have those lips wrapped around me?
Eddie is not blind. Within the past few years, especially this summer, he’s begun paying more attention to how he looks with the help of his aunt who, for the whole summer, allowed Eddie to dress and act the way he wanted and not Sonia.
There’s nothing more to him wearing pastel colors made out of soft, tender materials while all his peers wear flashy shirts and dark colors. There's nothing more to him looking after his appearance instead of letting his health rot away with youth, choosing actually efficient products instead of the legendary 3-in-1 shampoo and always carrying around a lip balm.
Maybe that's why more and more rumors appear every year and are being spread by the bullies’ girlfriends who see them looking Eddie over in hallways, snarling in his face, but behind his back, Eddie’s sure, thinking about the things they should be imagining their girlfriends doing instead of him.
He doesn't need this, doesn’t need this filth, but does nothing to stop it. Moreover, sometimes he puts in too much effort for a teenage boy in a town like Derry. It’s his only way of self-expression outside of home where rules exist, because Eddie has no one to spill everything that’s gathered on his chest onto, no one to whisper all his secrets to in the dark of night.
Not since he let the only good thing in his life go and was left with almost nothing.
Stan and Bill finish their lunch, but Eddie only pokes his food around the plate and still can't get rid of the feeling of those eyes burning into him, leaving marks on his skin.
There's this annoying buzz in the back of his head, the tacky itch of unwavering attention, and Eddie tears his blank gaze away from the plate and looks around, trying to understand what is causing the agonizing tightness of his skin.
Tyler and James are sitting with their backs turned to him, discussing something with loud voices and constantly talking over each other while the other people at their table hang onto every word, and if it's not them who’ve been staring at him for what feels like minutes, then…
Eddie’s attention is caught by movement on the other side of the cafeteria, and his whole body goes rigidly cold when his eyes meet with the person sitting at that table.
Next to him, Bill starts packing and clears his throat to get frozen Eddie to look at him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks once again while Stan brings their trays back.
Eddie’s only answer is a distracted nod, because he can’t look away from the blue eyes looking right back at him, but the next moment they tear away and suddenly Eddie can breathe again, like he finally reached the surface after almost drowning in piercing cold.
At the furthest table, Richie stands up and, putting his backpack on his shoulder, heads for the exit.
Stan, who’s returned to their table, seems to say goodbye, but Eddie isn’t paying attention, still looking after the figure which finally disappears through the doors, and then looks down at his still full yet messy plate.
“Well, we’re gonna head out. See you later, Eddie,” Bill says at last, giving him a tight smile before exchanging looks with Stan and also heading for the exit.
His insides cramp like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water right over his head, and moments later Eddie forcefully shakes his head like he’s trying to throw the sticky gaze that seems to have been boring right into him mere seconds ago off his tingly skin.
No, it couldn’t be true. They were sitting on the opposite sides of the room and Eddie got so into himself that his conscience convinced itself that he’d seen something that wasn’t even there.
Richie couldn’t have been looking at him, couldn’t have been watching Eddie this entire time, not after…
“See you later,” Eddie whispers to no one.
***
Locking the front door, he leans back against it and sighs heavily. The smell of pastry comes from the kitchen and his stomach growls treacherously, reminding him that he has hardly eaten anything since this morning and now it’s almost seven in the evening.
Echoing footsteps are heard across the hallway and Eddie closes his eyes, savoring the last moments of silence.
“Where have you been all this time?” Sonia’s voice is heard, and when Eddie finally opens his eyes, he notices a displeased, frowning expression on her face. “Lessons were supposed to end by two, and now it's half past six.”
“Mom, there was a huge queue for textbooks in the library and I went to the coach to discuss my exemption from PE, “ he explains.
His mom purses her lips.
“Edward, you know that I worry about you. You could have told me beforehand, and did you have your medical report with you at all? All your medical documents are with me.”
Eddie takes off his shoes and, bowing his head away from the annoying, disapproving gaze, rolls his eyes tiredly.
“Nothing happened to me, mom. I was told to bring it to the first lesson so everything’s fine.”
Sonia is seemingly satisfied with his answer, but still shakes her head.
“You should have warned me.”
And Eddie wants to snap so badly, to say that he is not a little helpless boy who’s unable to stand up for himself, that it isn’t even dark outside yet and it is highly unlikely that something could have happened to him in broad daylight, but he knows that it’s pointless and will only aggravate the situation and provoke his mother, who seems to have sort of calmed down.
Following her to the kitchen, Eddie leaves his backpack in the doorway and heads to the toilet to wash his hands while Sonia serves dinner. Soon they sit down at the table and he tries not to swoop in on food in order not to show his hunger. Eddie’s is definitely not in the mood to discuss why he couldn’t eat at lunch.
He doesn't really want to know what ridiculous measures his mom will take to make people like James go away forever, and Eddie's gaze falls on his shorts.
They make your ass look like a piece of cake.
That nasty feeling begins to sizzle under his skin again, and he pulls his legs under the chair and turns his attention back to the food while Sonia talks about how her workday went and how this Sunday after church they were invited to dinner at one of her friends' houses.
Eddie has no desire to go to church or her friend’s, but he bites his tongue and silently eats his dinner.
“How was your first day?” Sonia changes the topic, putting more salad on her plate. “Apart from disappearing for four hours, of course.”
He physically has to keep himself from rolling his eyes.
”Sorry, mom. I truly didn't mean to scare you,“ Eddie replies. She just nods and gestures to continue. ”Apart from that, the day went well. Nothing unusual, the “you’re seniors now” speech in each class, then at lunch I met with Bill and St...“
“With Bill?” Sonia asks with sudden interest, putting down the fork, and he nods, noticing out of the corner of his eye how a smile appears on her lips. “I haven't heard of him for so long. What a joy that you're talking again!”
We’re not talking, Eddie wants to object. If you were actually listening to me, you would have let me tell you that Stan was there, too, and we barely said a word to each other before parting, as always.
However, Sonia has almost never cared for the fact that he has something to say.
“I’ve always liked him, and you were so close. What a pity that Georgie...“ For a moment she stays silent but then coughs and shakes her head. ”Let’s not talk about sad things in the past. What matters most is that everything’s alright now.”
Holding back a huff, Eddie takes a sip of water and lowers his gaze to the pattern on the tablecloth, but it seems that Sonia hasn’t finished yet.
“Why don’t you invite him over, like old times? He has always been so well-mannered, unlike that... What’s his name again?” his mother asks dismissively as if she really doesn’t know the answer, and Eddie knows it's all a show.
“Richie, mom,” Eddie mutters, and just like that all his appetite is suddenly gone without a trace.
“Exactly. The one I definitely don’t miss is him,” Sonia huffs, picking up the fork again. “You still aren’t friends, are you? He doesn’t bother you, does he?
“Mom, please, let’s not…” Eddie starts in an attempt to end the conversation before it gets serious, like before .
“I just worry about you, Eddie,” Sonia continues, not paying attention to his words. “He was a bad influence on you and you know it. Something about him didn’t sit right with me from the beginning and I don’t want my son to spend time in such company, at least not again .”
“Everything was delicious, mom, “ Eddie cuts off sharply, rising from his seat with his plate only half empty in his hands. “Thank you for dinner, I’m gonna do my homework and go to bed."
Sonia is visibly unsatisfied with the interrupted conversation and the fact that he didn’t finish his meal, but she doesn’t object and turns her attention to the reality show on TV.
“Do the dishes and you may go,” she says and gives him her plate and glasses. “Just don’t stay up late and don’t forget to take your medicine before bed.”
Nodding, Eddie collects all the dirty dishes, goes to the sink and turns the water on.
As he enters his room, the door clicking behind his back finally relieves the tension which has been chaining his body since this morning, and Eddie sighs and heads to the bathroom. Homework can wait, he really doesn’t feel like doing anything about his studies right now.
A quick cold shower due to the stuffiness outside, the pills flushed down the toilet, brushing of teeth and pajamas bought for him by his auntie, and Eddie falls on the bed. The window is slightly opened, like every other night, which Sonia forbids, especially after a shower, and taking into account the fact that there is no lock on the door, this can be a problem, but Eddie will sooner listen to the one-hour lecture about the dangers of catching a cold rather than suffocate in his sleep.
Putting the blanket away, he makes himself comfortable on the soft sheets and finally closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep as soon as possible, because he knows himself too well.
I've got a place for you right here.
Hiding his face in his hands, Eddie shamefully comes to terms with the fact that his mind obviously has different plans.
Back in May he might have not thought twice about what happened today in the cafeteria, but now, after three months of freedom from those filthy, disgusting words, they drag him in like a vice, leaving no choice but to drown in them. How shamelessly James was staring at him, how his company was laughing at his words, how desperately Eddie wanted to hide, lock himself away from all of it... And then Bill appeared next to him. Eddie twitched not because he wasn't expecting his touch, but because of his voice, which he hadn’t heard for too long, at least not so concerned.
After the Losers fell apart, one by one, Eddie stayed in touch with Bill and Stan the longest until he simply could no longer pretend that everything was okay.
Nothing was okay, not with them, not with what happened, not with what they had become.
And Richie...
Once again, his cold, undefinable gaze comes up before Eddie’s eyes, and he could have sworn that it was all just his imagination, but couldn’t have confused those eyes with anyone else.
That summer inevitably changed all of them, but it hit Richie the hardest — something in him broke, cracked open, revealing a person- no, a phantom of his old self dotted with quiet cruelty, simmering just beneath the surface of those now icy, cold blue eyes.
It was not so obvious at first, but with every passing day Eddie started noticing how Richie began to close in himself, withdraw from everything and everyone in his life and react quicker and more aggressively to things that didn’t seem good enough for him. His jokes became crueler. He always did not know how to keep his mouth shut, but now his crudeness began to cross all boundaries.
Eddie was looking for an excuse for everything he said or did, trying to find a suitable explanation, not for the rest of the Losers, clearly less sympathetic to Richie, too busy fighting their own demons in struggling quiet, but for himself.
He didn’t want to push, didn’t want to start a conflict, which, it seemed, was exactly what Richie was looking for — at least from everyone else, and Eddie especially didn’t want to piss Richie off with his attempts to reason with him, because along with irritation, cruelty began to burn in his eyes every time someone dared to talk back to him. Eddie did not want to get on his bad side where everyone seemed to be lately and began to choose his words carefully when he was with Richie, something he had never felt the need to do before.
Eddie remembers the day when he first felt the icy chills from the cold in the once familiar eyes despite his attempts to suppress those memories. Remembers every word and how stunned he was, but still hadn't stopped looking for fucking excuses.
The two of them were returning from the clubhouse and Richie volunteered to walk him home, joking that boys like Eddie should not be on the streets alone late at night.
“I really doubt that your presence will save me if someone does want to attack me,” Eddie replied, rolling his eyes, realizing that there was no point in arguing and that Richie would've followed him anyway if he wanted to.
“I really doubt that I wouldn't be able to deal with some decrepit pedophile after I smacked that fucking clown right in the face, Eds,” Richie grinned back, putting his hands in his pockets and adjusting his step.
Only Eddie froze in place after his words, feeling his breath get stuck in his throat.
“Rich, don't.”
“Don’t what, Eddie my love? Be more precise,” Richie retorted, also stopping and turning to him with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile on his lips.
Hugging himself around the waist, whether from a sudden gust of cool evening wind, or the strange, inexplicable gleam in Richie’s eyes, Eddie shivered and looked down at his feet.
“You know what I’m talking about."
Richie's sneakers came to a stop next to him after a couple of long moments, and Eddie finally looked up when he felt the breath on his face. He barely suppressed the urge to back away from the way Richie was looking at him.
“Oh, you mean don’t talk about our dear old Penny?” he asked with feigned innocence. “ Why not ? Saying the motherfucker’s name certainly won’t bring him back to life."
When Eddie didn’t answer right away, Richie got even closer and his skin involuntary broke out in goosebumps.
“You can play clueless with Bill and Stan all you want, but don’t fucking tell me what to do. Deal?” he said in a flat, calm voice that did not match his words and gaze at all.
Eddie was so taken aback by his words, the tone of his voice, which he had already heard, but never felt on himself, that he came to his senses and continued his hasty way to the house only after Richie had already walked to the end of the street and called out to him, saying to hurry up so as not to upset Mrs. K.
And he still continued turning a blind eye after that, convincing himself that Richie was fine and all of this was temporary , until the end came. Eddie still remembers that day like the back of his hand, remembers every single word and how he met Richie’s eyes for the last time and he saw nothing in them. Mike was still answering their calls back then, Ben hadn’t transferred to a different school yet and Beverly had just left, and they were meeting in the clubhouse like being together could save them from the nightmares hot on their heels.
Bev leaving was the turning point, because her and Richie had always been like a brother and sister, and no matter how close Eddie and Richie had been and how much time they had spent together, him and Beverly always had something Eddie could never quite reach.
She tied them together like an invisible string of fearless love, caring touches and bright laughter, and after she had left it all fell apart.
Bill was having a really tough time trying to overcome losing Georgie, they all saw and understood it, but tried to mask it up with forced smiles like everything was okay, like they all could move past everything that had happened, overcome it like another one of life’s challenges, but not everyone agreed with him. Eddie tried following Bill’s example, tried to leave everything behind and never look back, distance himself and keep the promise not to talk about it, but it has only gotten worse with time. Soon he couldn't stand the sight of Stan’s forced smile, Bill’s fake confidence, Ben’s passive distress, Mike’s silent acceptance and what happened to Richie.
While they were all choking on their fears, trying to outrun the never stopping nightmares, quietly licking their oozing wounds, Richie snapped at every kind word, at every smile sent his way and soon Mike and Stan’s attempts to get him to calm down didn’t work anymore.
Richie stopped caring about their opinion, stopped listening and let himself loose, continued to push, push, push like he was trying to see just how far he could get, how much they would let him get away with.
Eddie didn't know this Richie, indifferent, harsh and quiet, and that scared him the most. Before Richie just couldn’t shut his mouth, couldn't hold back all the blunt words spilling from the tip of his tongue, but now he became so guarded, and it should have been a relief, but turned out being even more confusing and unsettling than before.
This Richie was a different person with the same facade, which only the eyes were giving out, and he was always like an open book, warm and welcoming pages filled with light jokes and bright smiles, but that summer you could only say that Eddie forgot how to read.
He understood that all of them were going through a difficult time and that they all had different ways of coping and coming to terms with what was left of their lives, and for some time his quiet pleas to stop and desperate eyes helped to calm Richie’s sudden bursts of cold irritation.
Eddie kept telling to himself and the others while Richie wasn't around that it was his way of trying to deal with the trauma, but believed in it less and less every time Richie did not hesitate to use force, shoving Mike with his shoulder, and snorted and rolled his eyes in response to any word from Bill about how he needs to cut it.
Richie had always been like an anchor for Eddie, and he unknowingly reached for him for support in an attempt to hide from the thoughts trying to burst out of his head, tried to make casual conversation, pull a light-hearted joke out of him and return a sincere, just a tiny bit crooked smile to Richie's lips, but in vain. And Richie used to act differently around him, apart from that walk home and a few harsh words, before the last straw was drawn.
The last time they had seen Mike was about a week ago, and he had just stopped answering calls, and when Stan voiced his thoughts about this, Richie just grinned, for the first time at least somehow showing that he was participating in the conversation since coming down the dilapidated stairs and lounging in the hammock, where he dragged Eddie a couple of minutes ago, leaving him no choice.
It's not like Eddie could say no.
"We have to visit him. What if something happened?” Stan asked worriedly, looking at the three of them.
Richie only huffed, rolling his eyes.
“He finally got tired of playing happy family, that’s what happened. Good for him. Who’s going to be next?”
“Richie, don’t start,” Stan asked tiredly, obviously not in the mood to deal with Richie.
Like it could help.
“Haven't you noticed the pattern? First Bev left, then Ben and now Mike, so I'm asking, who’s gonna be next?” Richie wondered innocently, apparently unconsciously caressing Eddie’s hand who was practically lying on top of him.
Eddie squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. He ran away from home that day in an attempt to find peace and support in his friends, but at that moment he realized that he seemed to have stepped on a minefield that had been charged for a very, very long time.
Feeling Eddie trying to pull away, Richie grabbed his wrists and pulled him back, and Eddie gave in because he could never say no to him.
Was afraid of what the response would be if he ever talked back.
Glancing at them briefly, Stan wearily covered his face with his hands and shook his head.
"How long are you going to be like this? We gave you time to come around, but you continue to act like an asshole."
Eddie felt rather than heard Richie huff and closed his eyes, naively hoping that it would not affect him if he pretended not to be here. However, Richie's voice, drenched in poison with every word, came right next to his ear. “ Gave me time ? How generous of you. Only this is me, without the fucking mask that all of you have chosen to wear, because you're cowards, ashamed to admit the fact that meeting face to face with a fucking killer clown could shake up your perfect little lives.”
With the echo of words from the walls of the clubhouse, a chill swept over his skin, and Eddie closed his eyes even tighter.
“Richie, stop,” he said quietly, foolishly hoping it would work the way it did before.
However, the grip on his wrists suddenly became even tighter, and Eddie couldn't hold back his involuntary gasp and tried to free his hands and move away, but Richie pressed him even closer.
“What, Eds? Am I making you uncomfortable?” Richie grinned and squeezed his fingers even tighter, and Eddie hissed in discomfort dancing just on the edge of pain. “It's time to take off your rose-colored glasses. You didn't think you could wear them forever, did you? I also gave you time, and…”
“G-Get away from him,” Bill’s hard voice suddenly came.
Richie's grip on his wrists didn't loosen, but his gaze shifted from Eddie's face twisted in pain to Bill, who had already risen to his feet.
There was only a thin, fragile thread left between Richie and Bill, an echo of the once blooming friendship after that fight at Neibolt that Beverly had told Eddie about. Every day it was tightening more and more, and for a moment Eddie thought he heard a treacherous snap when Richie finally spoke, his voice soaked with indifferent mockery.
“And what are you going to do if I don't, hm? Drag me to your dear clown best friend once again?”
“Richie!” Stan exclaimed indignantly, flashing a startled, wary gaze between him and Bill.
Richie ignored him, staring with amusement at Bill's clenched fists.
“What, are you going to hit me again?”
He’s asking for a fight, Eddie realized with horror and tried to get away from him again, but Richie held him with a stranglehold, and he could only look at Bill with his pleading eyes, silently begging him not to do anything that could not be taken back.
But it was already too late. The timer had long been approaching zero, and the explosion was inevitable.
“Don't like the fact that I don't grovel at your feet? Well, sorry to disappoint, Billy, but I'm not Eds or Stan and I'm not going to follow you around like a lost puppy and listen to your “everything is fine” bullshit because it's fucking not.”
Finally letting go of Eddie, who had been startled by the tone of his voice and his sudden rudeness, Richie got to his feet. Bill's knuckles turned white from how tightly he clenched his fists, and Eddie wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and beg them to stop, because he could no longer put up with it, could not try to keep them together.
"What, those scars," he pointed to the barely healed marks scattered along Stan's face, “appeared out of nowhere? You weren’t almost eaten alive by a clown living in a dungeon, huh? Rings any bells?"
Huffing, Richie again turned his gaze from Stan's pursed lips to Bill and came close to him, slightly tilting his head, and the smile on his lips made Eddie's skin break out in paralyzing goosebumps.
“Come on, hit me. I know you want to,” Richie nodded at Bill's still clenched fists, and for a moment it seemed that Bill would finally break and give in to the provocation, but at the last second he unclenched his hands and shook his head. “That's what I thought. Seems like all of your heroic courage went into dragging us to die in search of G-G-Georgie’s corpse.”
In the blink of an eye, Stan grabbed Bill's wrist and pulled him back, but he did not tear his hard, cold gaze from Richie, who was grinning wider with every moment.
Eddie could not take his eyes off him, could not believe his ears and tried to convince himself that he had misheard, but Bill's quiet, firm voice shattered the last remnants of his doubt into small pieces.
“Get out of here.”
Richie's smirk wavered, but did not vanish from his lips, it’s undertone only changing from amusement to the already familiar cold, and he turned to Eddie, who glanced at Bill and Stan and then lowered his gaze to the ground, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.
He knew what the silence hanging around them meant, knew what they expected of him, but Eddie did not want to choose, He did not want to tear apart the remains of the only thing that still gave him the strength not to give up, irrevocably trample the only place where he didn’t feel like no one , but the way Richie looked at him expectantly spoke for itself.
"Richie..." Eddie whispered, closing his eyes because it was all too much.
When he finally opened them, Eddie was met by the same gaze, empty and emotionless, and Richie put his hands in his pockets, not even giving Stan and Bill a last glance, and shrugged.
“Have a nice stay.”
And after Richie disappeared outside the door of the clubhouse, leaving them just like Beverly, Mike and Ben had left, there was no turning back. The Losers' Club fell apart as if it did not exist at all, a happy mirage with a predictable ending invisible through the lenses of rose-colored glasses until they cracked, ripping them out of the world of illusion.
Before that, Eddie tried to quiet the voice in his head that whispered that Richie was right, while the second, comforting voice reassured him that Richie was just not okay, that he was saying and doing all these things because he was trying to pour out all his emotions so that they didn't drag him down, that he doesn't really mean all of this.
However, that day Eddie finally realized, saw with his own eyes that there was nothing left of Richie with whom he shared his happiest memories, who knew how to make him laugh even on the lousiest days and was always there for him, no matter what.
They have not exchanged a word since then, never smiled at each other the way they used to, and today their eyes met for the first time since that day, and only now Eddie realizes how much he misses him.
He doesn't know this Richie, doubts that he ever knew him at all , because all the cruelty, coldness and indifference that showed, finally crawled out that summer, could not have appeared out of nowhere, but that does not stop Eddie from missing what had seeped right through his fingers. Missing how calm he felt next to Richie, how warm and soothing were his arms, or when they shared ice cream, or when they locked themselves in one of their rooms because they wanted to spend time alone, just the two of them.
Sometimes Eddie lets his facade down and allows these thoughts to break in and fill his head until the sun rises, when he will have to put a mask on again and pretend that he is still the same, that there is no gaping hole in his chest that never seems to heal. Allows himself to wonder what would have happened if they hadn't listened to Bill, hadn’t followed him and went through what they went through, breaking themselves from the inside forever.
Then he and Richie would’ve still been friends, then Eddie wouldn’t have wanted to scream his throat raw from the horrifying feeling of loneliness and deafening silence stepping on his heels. Then life would’ve gone on as usual and everything would’ve been alright.
But nothing is all right now, no matter how much Eddie pretends, no matter how hard Bill and Stan try to convince themselves and everyone else, no matter how long Mike hides from them and how soon Bev and Ben will finally call.
Richie is the only one who had the courage to face what happened, only as a different person.
Perhaps this honesty opened his eyes and allowed everything that had been lurking inside all this time, waiting to spread its deadly wings, to get out.
Richie never made an attempt to speak to Eddie after Bill had kicked him out of the pitiful remnants of the Losers' Club, never looked at him or even seemed to remember his existence until today.
Eddie doesn't want to know what has changed and what that means.
He is not blind, and rumors do not pass him by, but there is not the slightest evidence confirming hushed whispers in school toilets. Richie did not make new friends after the old ones turned away from him, did not try to take revenge on them in any way, and continue to keep up the “everything is fine” attitude, no.
His indifference and the facade which Eddie stopped recognizing a long time ago attracted people, but Richie didn't seem to care, because Eddie had never seen him with someone more than a couple of times over the years. Before, Richie was ready to do anything to draw attention to himself, to make people just look at him, and now he doesn't even have to try for them to be drinking in his every word and watching his every move with heavy sighs, and the teachers praise him, because Richie has been at the top of the class since middle school.
And Eddie would be lying if he said that he erased Richie from his thoughts like he erased him from his life the day he realized there’s no going back. That he did not watch Richie from afar, futilely trying to discern echoes of what he loved so much in those once warm eyes shining with amusement.
Eddie forbade himself to miss it, forbade regretting that he followed Bill and did not stop Richie that day when he lost him forever, but he cannot hide from himself when he is alone.
Maybe time does change people, but Eddie seems to be an exception.