Chapter Text
Call Richie Tozier
Call Richie Tozier
Call Richie Tozier
Call Richie Tozier
“Keep turning the pages,” Eddie said, and Richie did. The same was written in all of them, every day, all the way to the back. When Richie looked back at Eddie his heart was hammering in his chest. Eddie was shaking, and he pointed at Richie with his finger. “That’s you, right?” He asked. No, he demanded. Richie didn’t know what to say. “I almost went crazy, you know?! I don’t remember writing that down!” Eddie nearly screamed. “I came home after the breakdown I had over crashing my stupid phone and went to sleep and then, the next morning when I looked at my planner those where there! Your name! All over the pages!”
“Shit, Eddie, I…”
“And the most fucked up thing is I didn’t remember now, either! Not until you said your name again. But you had said it before, too, and I didn’t remember then. I just… You said it, maybe it was the way that you said it or I don’t fucking know. It clicked. Something inside me clicked and I remembered but, how the fuck did I forget that??”
“Look, I can explain,” Richie held his hands up and backed up a few steps. Way to show Eddie he wasn’t some sort of stalker/creep. Eddie’s eyes went big and his face showed true horror. Okay, now he really though Richie had something to do with it.
“Who are you??” Eddie asked, getting more and more nervous. “Did you do that??”
“No! Shit, Eds, how could…” Richie covered his face with his hands. Shit, coming here had been such a bad idea. He should have brought Steve! You need to do it alone, fuck off, Steve!
“I’m freaking out. I’m freaking out, man, and I swear to God I’m gonna have an asthma attack,” Eddie warned, staring to gasp for air. “Shit, do I have asthma?? Shit, what is this??”
“Eddie. Eds, come on. Let’s… let’s sit, okay? Where’s the living room?”
“Like you don’t know already, psycho!” Eddie growled like a wounded animal, but he moved too, walking to the living room and sitting on the nearest couch. Richie sat too, maintaining a safe distance, giving Eddie some space.
“Look, I know this seems crazy, but there’s an explanation, okay? Let me call my agent and…” Richie took off his backpack to reach for his cellphone.
“Your agent? What the fuck? Is this some sort of sick game? Are you one of those conceptual artists? Is killing me a performance??”
“Eddie, you’re overreacting, man,” Richie let out a nervous laugh because, although the situation was pretty serious and Eddie was seconds from calling 911, he had to admit watching Eddie being completely paranoid was kind of funny too. “Steve is my agent. He’s also my best friend. Steve, remember? You know Steve. Steve Covall, kinda short, always bosses me around, sarcastic, gay as fuck,” Richie said, and right when he was numbering the many virtues of Steve he realized… Were Steve and Eddie that much alike? Richie shuddered. He didn’t want to think about that.
“Steve Covall?” Eddie said, and blinked once or twice, like his brain was trying to catch up. It was enough to make him breathe a little more evenly.
“Yeah. He knows you. He knows… about us. He will—“
Richie stopped talking when he opened his backpack and saw it.
The notebook. It was there.
Steve should have put it there, because Richie never moved it from his bedside table. In fact, that’s where he left it, right on the bedside table, safe in his hotel room! Goddammit, Steve, what if he had lost the damned backpack? What if something had happened? What if…?
“What is it?” Eddie asked from afar, holding a pillow as a shield and looking at Richie. “What you got there? Is it a bomb? Did you bring a fucking bomb to my fucking house??”
“Eddie!” Richie yelled, loud enough to startled Eddie and make him jump. He closed his eyes and regretted it immediately, but really, he couldn’t handle that much. It was too much. He was a fucking comedian, for God’s sake, If he had wanted this kind of drama in his life he would have joined the navy or some shit like that. He took a deep breath and took out the notebook. “Here,” he said, handing the book to Eddie. “I guess I also have something you should look at.”
Richie regretted giving Eddie the notebook even before he actually did it. He didn’t know what that notebook could do to Eddie. He didn’t know if it was even safe to get back all those memories at once. He wouldn’t forgive himself if somehow he managed to hurt Eddie, even if it was unintentionally, but on the other hand, he didn’t know what else to do. Eddie was freaking out and he had the right to be. He already knew part of the story so it was only fair he could get the whole truth.
Richie closed his eyes when Eddie took the notebook like he wasn’t sure if he should but the curiosity was stronger than his doubts. They both took a deep breath before Eddie gathered the courage to open it.
That was it. Whatever was going to happen, it would happen.
Richie kind of got ready for another crazy rant, but nothing came. Eddie didn’t say a word. He just kept turning the pages, looking at them. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable but it was painful. Every second Eddie didn’t say a word hurt like a motherfucker and Richie wasn’t sure if he could handle it any longer.
“Say something,” he asked, keeping his voice low enough to not disturb the silence. “Eddie, please. Say something. Anything.”
Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at Richie. He just kept looking at the pictures. Fuck, what if that didn’t make him remember either? What if Eddie was just looking at some pictures with his face on it but he couldn’t recognize those memories? What if he thought it was all staged?
Richie wanted to say something else, but what exactly? What could he say to make it better?
Eddie finished looking at the pictures, closed the notebook and put it aside. When he looked back at Richie, his eyes were welling up.
“Shit. Eds, I can explain,” Richie tried, babbling words. “I promise I’m not a weirdo, I just—“
Richie’s vision went black when Eddie almost tackled him down, making him fall back on the couch when he hugged him. Eddie’s hands fisted Richie’s shirt, his knuckles pressing hard on Richie’s back. His face hid on Richie’s neck when he let out a pained cry, sobbing like a child and pushing himself against Richie like he wanted to go through him, like he wanted to hide inside, hugging him so hard Richie could barely breathe.
But, fuck, he had never felt so alive.
He put his arms around Eddie immediately, pushing his nose into his neck to down in Eddie’s scent. Jesus, he had been starving and Eddie’s body warm and soft against him was like manna from heaven. It was electric, every one of his nerve cells shaking, firing up. He had wanted to do that since he saw Eddie opening the door and he had been dying to just touch him. And now, there he was, right in Richie’s arms, like time hadn’t passed at all.
“Don’t cry,” Richie smiled, stroking Eddie’s hair and kissing his temple. It wasn’t the best advice coming from him, since he was also on the verge of tears.
“It was my fault,” Eddie said, hugging Richie closer, hiding his face. “I let it happen. I fucked up.”
“No, Eds, listen. It wasn’t your fault.” Was that the reason Eddie was crying? He blamed himself?
“It was! I fucked up because I can’t function properly and I crashed the damn phone and I had a meltdown and I promised myself I wouldn’t forget until I fixed it but I… I did. I forgot. I forgot you, Richie.”
Richie leaned back and held Eddie’s head in his hands, looking at him. His cheeks were red and his nose was running, his whole face was wet and his eyelashes were stuck together for all the crying. A warm feeling installed in Richie’s chest. Eddie had changed, physically. His face had more angles, it looked more mature, his hair was styled differently and his lips were thinner, but when Richie looked at him he still saw the same kid he had fallen in love with so many years ago.
He was the same kid who would cry because Richie was beaten up because he couldn’t get his mouth shut, the same kid who would have nervous breakdowns thinking about diseases and bacteria and, even more important, what his mom would say, the same kid Richie would rush to put an inhaler in his mouth when he couldn’t breath, just because Richie couldn’t stand seeing Eddie in distress. And thinking about it, maybe Richie was the same kid too.
“It’s fine, Eds,” Richie said, brushing the tears off Eddie’s face with his thumbs. “I forgot too,” he confessed. It made Eddie stop crying, just a little at least. “I forgot and I wanted to blame Steve for letting me forget you, even if it was just for a few minutes, but the truth is it was my fault. I guess I wasn’t good enough at planning how to keep remembering you. I mean, that notebook was Steve’s idea and I probably owe him my life now,” Richie laughed. “But maybe it was just… meant to be. Maybe there are things we can’t fight. Not alone.”
Eddie looked down, taking a deep breath and nodding. He put one of his hands on top of Richie’s, still on Eddie’s face, leaning into it and sighing.
“It did this, right? It made us forget,” Eddie said. Richie stroked his cheek. “That means It is alive. We didn’t kill It.”
“We were kids, Eds.” Richie reminded him. “But we will. We made a promise. 27 years.”
“Not that many anymore,” Eddie said, and he was right. Not 27 years anymore. Just eleven. “What if the others don’t remember?”
“They will. It’s impossible we’re the only ones who had figured out what happened. It was our childhood. Our parents remember they lived in Derry once, my dad gave me those pictures of us when we were kids.”
“Not all of us were that lucky,” Eddie said, and he was right all over again. Eddie’s mom was nothing like Richie’s parents, neither was Beverly’s dad, or Bill’s parents. Damn, Mike’s parents were dead.
“We’ll find them. Somehow. And if we can’t find them, then we’ll do it together. Just the two of us.”
That was a risky thing to say. Richie would need to be very brave to go to Derry and fight the clown all over again. It was already frightening the first time, and all his friends were there. He wasn’t sure if he could put Eddie’s life on risk like that.
“That’s the only way we could keep remembering each other, right?” Eddie said. He didn’t even question Richie. Fuck, Eddie was so much braver than him.
“I guess. I don’t really know. I do hope so,” Richie sighed, giving Eddie a small smile. “But, in the meantime, we can… be together.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” Eddie smiled too.
They both looked at each other. So, it was time, right? Richie was dying to kiss him and it seemed like the time had come. But Eddie hadn't said anything and it was making Richie just a little bit anxious because Eddie remembered everything, right? Not just their past but their… relationship. Right?
“So… how much do you remember exactly?” Richie asked. Eddie looked at him like he wasn’t expecting that question.
“I guess I remember everything. Although I wouldn’t know, because… well, if I don’t remember something then I don’t remember not remembering.”
“Yeah. Right,” Richie nodded. So that didn’t help. But Eddie was still almost completely on top of him and they were touching and Eddie wouldn’t do that with him if he didn’t think they were together together, right? Except for how Eddie did that all the time when they were kids and no one ever questioned it, not even Richie. He was always a blind motherfucker. Literally.
“What?” Eddie asked.
“Nothing. Just… wondering.” Richie shrugged. Eddie gave him a dirty look. Oh, that was the Eddie Richie knew.
“Wondering what, Richie?”
“Just…” Richie took a deep breath. Here we go. “I mean, do you still like me? Like, you know, like romantically. Because I kinda felt like we were flirting a moment ago when you said all those things about no one important calling you anymore, and we did have a thing back in L.A. and, well, there’s the whole being in love with you since we were kids but…”
“Oh my God, Richie!” Eddie laughed. He laughed at Richie, it was pretty clear. “Of course I still love you!” He didn’t even use the same word Richie had used. He used the word ‘love’ and Richie couldn’t be a happier man. Except…
“But you haven’t kissed me yet! I mean, no offense, but it was you who threw yourself at me and who’s still on top of me, and you just hugged me. Which was fine, but not even a kiss? Mixed signals much, Eds?”
“I’ve just remembered you! Can’t a man take his time anymore? Is chivalry dead?” Eddie laughed awkwardly.
“We’ve fucked, Eddie,” Richie reminded him, and Eddie’s face went completely red.
“Well… there weren’t pictures of that,” he replied and Richie wasn’t sure if that meant Eddie didn’t remember that part but, if he didn’t before, his face told he totally remembered now.
“Did you want pictures? We can take pictures,” Richie teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
“We cannot! Jesus, you’re such a dick!” Eddie complained, but he was still laughing, and he hadn’t moved an inch from Richie’s lap.
“Okay, okay, no pictures,” Richie agreed, carefully lowering his hands and putting them on Eddie’s hips. “As long as you promise you remember,” Richie said, kind of risking it but taking the chance. Eddie’s face couldn’t look redder. “Do you remember?”
Eddie took a few seconds to answer, looking away and working at his bottom lip, but Richie already knew what he was going to say.
“I do,” he finally said.
Richie would be embarrassed to admit how many times he had dreams in which Eddie said those exact same words in a different context.
Eddie looked back at him again, with his cheeks red and his eyes shiny, looking from above like a goddamned angel. Richie was sure he must have had the dumbest face and the stupidest smile, but he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t believe there was a way his heart could forget how much love there was in it for Eddie. His fucking chest felt like it was going to burst.
“We don’t need to do anything,” Richie said. “I’d be happy to just look at your face for the rest of my days.”
“Richie, come on…” Eddie rolled his eyes but couldn’t help to let out a little giggle.
“What? It’s the truth, man! What do you want me to do?”
“You don’t need to say everything that goes through your head!”
“Oh, you know well enough I do! I’m in fucking love, Edward!”
“Shut up!”
“Let yourself be loved!!”
“Oh my…” Eddie groaned, held Richie’s face with both of his hands and crashed their lips together.
Maybe he was wrong, maybe he just didn’t remember, but Richie could swear, he could swear, he had never felt anything like this.
The moment Eddie’s lips touched him he was melting, his muscles releasing all the accumulated tension from all of these months, his body becoming pliant and soft and welcoming. He put his arms around Eddie, fisting his t-shirt to keep him close, closer, to never let him go, ever again.
Shit, now he wanted to cry.
“I lied.” Richie groaned, low and broken and close to Eddie’s mouth just in case. “I wouldn’t be happy just looking at you. I think I would die if I couldn’t touch you.”
He pulled Eddie back for another kiss, to keep him from saying something witty or something sarcastic. Richie didn’t need that now. He didn’t need words. He just needed to rebuild the bond that was so severely damaged, to feel Eddie’s skin against his, to melt together.
He didn’t know he was so touch starved, but now that he had Eddie in his arms he couldn’t let him go, like finally finding a warm, sunny spot in the cold winter. Eddie was the sun. Eddie was everything good in the world. Eddie was a cure for depression, anxiety, stress, and all those things that kept Richie awake at night. Eddie was the reason Richie could live to a hundred years. No wonder how much Eddie complained about bacteria and disease. Eddie was pure medicine.
“I love you,” Richie said when he finally allowed himself to take a breath, looking at Eddie with his eyes full of love. And he knew it right there. Love. The real meaning of the word. That was it.
“Stay,” Eddie replied, holding himself on Richie’s chest and looking at him seriously. “You have a job here, right? Call Steve. Tell him to stop looking for a place for you. Stay here. With me.”
“Eddie…”
“I know I asked before and I know you said no and, fuck, I know it seems too soon but it’s not. It’s not, and I can’t—“
“Yes,” Richie cut him, smiling and touching Eddie’s face, stroking his cheek. “Yes. Yes. Of course. Yes.”
“Yeah?” Eddie smiled too, letting out a short, nervous laugh.
“Yeah, this house is too big for you anyway,” Richie joked.
“My bed is too big too,” Eddie replied.
Richie smiled, turning a bit wolfish when he added, “do you know what else is big?” He burst out laughing when Eddie rolled his eyes and groaned.
“I should kick you out just because of that,” Eddie threatened, but instead of doing that he stood up and took Richie’s hand, and they both walked to what looked like Eddie’s really big master bedroom, to his really big bed.
Richie never spoke again. Except for just some little words, here and there, Eddie’s name, soft curses, yes. Yes. Fuck, yes. But he mostly let his body talk, his hands and his lips and his fingers and his hips. And when they both fell exhausted and covered in sweat Richie knew he would do it all over again. And again. And again.
“I love you,” Eddie said. Richie smiled.
Fuck, how much he had missed those words.
Eddie got out of the bed, “I’ll bring a bottle of water and something to clean us up,” he said. Richie watched him leave the room, his eyes touching every bit of Eddie’s exposed skin. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What a weird thing to do, to be back to a life you never left but it was always yours anyway. It didn’t feel like the end, but it didn’t feel like a beginning either.
They weren’t done yet.
Eddie came back with water and a towel on one hand, and Richie’s notebook on the other. Once rehydrated and clean again, they both sat up on the bed, resting their backs on the headboard, opening the book and looking through the pages.
There were things Eddie still didn’t remember, things that weren’t pictured there, names of friends he hadn’t say out loud in a really long time. Richie helped him as much as he could, but some things escaped him too.
“This could happen again, right?” Eddie asked, his fingers carefully touching the pages of the book, the pictures of a life he didn’t remember until barely minutes ago. “We forgot once, we forgot twice… I go on a business trip for a couple of days and I forget a third time and suddenly you don’t mean anything to me all over again, or my fucking phone dies or…”
“Or I go on tour and spend months away and we…” Richie nodded. He understood Eddie’s feelings too well. “Shit, I mean, it wasn’t even a week, you know? We stopped talking for a few days and you forgot. And alcohol definitely makes things worse. I forgot about you overnight. We can’t win, right?” Richie let out a soft, sad chuckle. “It doesn’t want us to remember.”
“But it doesn’t matter,” Eddie said suddenly, reaching for Richie’s hand, holding it. Richie looked up at him, seeing hope in Eddie’s eyes. A different kind of hope. “It doesn’t really matter, you know? If we do forget… I will still love you.”
“I know, Eds. I—“
“No, I mean it. I need you to understand, okay?” Eddie looked determined, like he had figured out something Richie couldn’t yet grasp. “I will always love you. Always. No matter what happens, I love you. Even if I don’t remember you, I still love you. I didn’t fall in love with you back in L.A., I was already in love with you. The moment I saw you I knew I loved you, and yeah, it was crazy and scary and I didn’t know your name or anything about you, but I knew I loved you. The same thing happened when you showed up at my door. I didn’t know who you were, but I knew I loved you. I just knew.”
Yes. That was right. The feeling had always been there, even when Richie didn’t know the name, it didn’t matter. It was there.
“I know. I felt it too, back when we first met. Again.”
“It wants us to forget, but it can only mess with our heads, not with our hearts.” Eddie took Richie’s hand, facing up his palm, touching the light scar they shared. “We made a promise. We said we would come back if It wasn’t dead, and we will come back. And maybe we’ll go together or maybe we’ll…” Eddie shook his head. “Whatever happens, I want you to know, the moment I see your face I will love you, just like the first time. I will love you, because I would have never stopped.”
And right there Richie understood. It made sense their reunion didn’t feel like the beginning, because they had loved each other before. It didn’t feel like the end of the road because the would love each other again. Because being together, loving each other, wasn’t a goal to reach, it was the natural order of things. They would never forget each other even if they did. They would never stop loving each other even if it felt like it.
And even It couldn’t change that. Even death.
They were bigger than that.