Chapter Text
Before Richie surprised him by coming by and talking about the clown, Eddie had to run to the pharmacy.
Stan was visibly shaken when Eddie ran into him there. Eddie needed to pick up some things for his mother, and he had walked down there, grateful for something to do to get him out of the house. They had taken a day off. Everyone had been growing tired and weary as they constantly tested their powers, and most of them had grown annoyed with Eddie’s overbearing attitude towards the whole endeavor.
But he couldn’t help himself. He had so many things in his life that he couldn’t control. If he could control something, things would feel a little lighter, like he hadn’t been handed something he didn’t think he deserved.
Stan had found his powers, and Eddie took advantage of it, running him through testing of what kind of birds he could turn into, how quickly he could turn, how much control over appearance and size and whatever else he had.
He guessed Stan was of the opinion that Eddie was doing too much because Stan did not want to talk to Eddie when they saw each other.
“Hey, Stan,” Eddie said walking up to Stan who was crouched in front of the cold medicine.
“Oh, Eddie,” Stan stumbled out. “Hi.”
Stan picked up a bottle of medicine, and looked towards the checkout counter, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asked.
“Just in a hurry,” Stan said, despite not making any move to leave. “My mom is sick, so I wanted to get her some medicine.”
“Sure,” Eddie said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Stan jittered, obviously thinking about something that Eddie didn’t know about, but now that he thought about it, Stan had been that jittery for a few days, ever since he discovered his power. That must have been it, Eddie thought. He was nervous about it, just like everyone else, not knowing a thing about it, trying to piece together pieces of a puzzle without the full picture.
“Fine,” Stan said. He bit his lip, mulling something over. “I just know something I shouldn’t. Um, it’s fine, though. Nothing – nothing to worry about.” He pat Eddie’s shoulder. “None of us hate you, you know,” he said as an afterthought. “It’s just a lot.”
“What is?”
“The – the training and all,” Stan said like that was a lie that he had just come up with because he wasn’t expecting Eddie to ask questions. “Since we don’t have answers, it’s a lot, you know.”
And with that, Stan skirted around Eddie and made his way to the checkout.
Eddie was more than confused, wondering what the fuck Stan knew that made him act like that. It must have been something worth knowing, something worth getting anxious over. Eddie couldn’t imagine his friends keeping huge secrets from him, but then again, Eddie had his own secret, a secret he only shared with Richie.
He supposed Stan could have his secrets, but Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if Stan’s secret was his own.
Eddie was Richie’s best friend, he knew that, but Eddie also knew that Richie told a lot of things to Stan, sometimes things he didn’t tell Eddie. Eddie tried not to get jealous, knowing that sometimes he would confide in Bill before Richie, but now they were dating. It felt strange, wrong even, that Richie would tell Stan something and not him.
Stan had been weird since that day he discovered his power, that same day that Richie skipped training to hang out with Stan. Something must have been said.
Eddie just hoped it wasn’t what he was terrified of.
Eddie grabbed what he needed and left careful to ignore the burning feeling of exposure when he reran his encounter with Stan. And then he went home. He usually took the long way around because Neibolt Street always gave him chills growing up, but today he wasn’t thinking about that, and instead turned down it to head home.
He couldn’t help but stop in front of that old house that he and every other kid at school used to believe was haunted. They would tell stories of the ghosts and demons that lived in there, and kids would dare each other to go stand on the porch. But it was just a house, Eddie thought. He knew that now, and knew it couldn’t hurt him, but still, he couldn’t help but stare at it as though something was waiting for him.
When he turned to leave, he tripped, falling forward on his hands and knees, feeling the sting of pavement on his skin. He kneeled on the ground for a second, examining his hands and the scrapes that were already healing in front of his eyes.
Eddie had been on everyone’s case about testing and training, deeply adamant that there must be an answer somewhere, that he needed to find something that made sense about all of this. He had noticed that he was scaring his friends, but he had stopped caring. He felt so helpless, so powerless without answers.
He finally looked up from his hands when he heard footsteps coming towards him. He looked up to see Richie.
“Hey,” Eddie said, brushing off his hands on his shorts.
“What are you doing on the ground?” Richie asked holding out a hand for Eddie to help him up. Eddie took it. “You drop your birth control or something?”
“I tripped,” Eddie said.
“In front of the old Neibolt house?” Richie asked pointing his thumb towards it. “Pretty spooky, Eds. It’s like the ghosts don’t want you to leave.”
Eddie smiled. “Are you jealous?”
“You ever been inside?” Richie said ignoring the remark, taking a step closer to Eddie. He was now within close proximity, close enough that if someone saw, they would get suspicious.
“No,” Eddie said quietly. “Why would I?”
Richie shrugged. “I hear a lot of kids break in to make out and have sex in there. Like a rite of passage or some bullshit.”
Eddie heart skipped a beat. Richie was looking down at him through those long lashes expectantly. Eddie thought they had this conversation already. And Eddie also thought that Richie was kind of upset with him right now. But Richie was too close and too beautiful for him to notice or care.
“Uh…” was all Eddie could say.
Richie stepped away, towards the house. “I mean, if you want to.” He raised an eyebrow, looking the way he did when he wanted to make out but wasn’t sure how to ask.
“How – how do you know other kids do that?” Eddie asked, fearing the worst. Richie wanted more, he knew that, but Richie was also willing to take things slow because Eddie was scared. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was scared of until now. He was scared of Richie being better than him, more experienced than him, that Eddie wouldn’t be able to live up to Richie’s picture of him.
“Wanna find out?” Richie said with a cocky grin.
Eddie was terrified, but he wanted to please Richie. Although, when Eddie got scared, Richie got protective, not more invested in what he was trying to accomplish. And when did Richie look so gray?
“I should just go home,” Eddie said, but found his feet planted to the ground.
Richie looked back to the house. “C’mon, Eds. It’s not that bad.” Richie turned back around to face Eddie, and Eddie nearly threw up over it.
Where Richie’s nose had been was a hole as his face began drooping, disintegrating before Eddie’s eyes. His glasses fell off and his skin got grayer and grayer. But his hair still remained as did his clothes, leaving the image of Richie still burned into Eddie’s mind.
“C’mon, Eds,” the thing said. “Why don’t you let me blow you in the Neibolt house?”
When it spoke, teeth fell out, and the hair finally began falling out in clumps. What was once a spitting image of Richie was now a disgusting leper, the diseases his mother had warned him about, leprosy and cancers and every other infection.
Before Eddie let It speak any longer, he went to take off running down the street, or at least, that was the plan. He didn’t mean to run into someone, nor did he know It was there.
A clown.
He stumbled backwards, catching his feet, and quickly turning to run through the backyard of the Neibolt house where he knew there was a fence with a hole he was still small enough to crawl through. But there was something about his feet today. Something about his feet that made him unable to run, unable to walk, unable to stand, and he tripped.
Eddie tried to stand but his foot was caught in the vine that he tripped over. He turned himself over, hoping that he still had enough time to escape It, or better yet, that It would be gone, that all of this was a horrible hallucination.
Eddie didn’t have time to think when he flipped over to reach his foot and remove the vine because It was there, hovering over him, drool dripping from Its mouth, dripping down and down, so close to Eddie’s face that he started to gag.
“What’s the matter, Eddie?” It said in a voice that sent chills down Eddie’s back. “Are you scared?”
Eddie couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. He was too busy trying to prevent his heart from stopping.
“Your mother was right,” It said, stroking Eddie’s face with his hand. “There are some nasty, nasty, dirty diseases out there, and that boy has all of them.”
The image of Richie turning into a leper clouded Eddie’s mind. The vision of his face falling apart was burned into his memory. He didn’t think he could ever look at Richie the same way, not until they had left this hellhole of a town.
“Shut up!” Eddie screamed.
It clicked Its tongue. “Naughty, naughty. You mustn’t raise your voice at those who…” With Its right arm, It reeled back forming a strange tentacle spear, and before Eddie could process what it was, It heaved the arm forward into Eddie’s gut. “…are stronger than you.”
Warm, scalding, burning pain was all that Eddie could feel. His abdomen was on fire, burning as It slowly shoved the arm deeper, the pain spreading to his chest as his heart began beating at a rapid pace trying to keep up with the blood loss. Eddie tasted something metallic and knew he was bleeding from his mouth, too.
He couldn’t think. The pain had taken him. The blood spilled onto the ground, soaking Eddie’s clothes, staining his hands, and for some reason, he thought about how mad his mother would be when she saw how dirty he had gotten.
It slowly opened Its mouth, bearing rows upon rows of shiny teeth, saliva coating them, dripping onto Eddie’s face. Somehow, Eddie could piece together the scent of the sewers on Its breath, raw and dank and wet.
There had to be something, or else he would die. It wouldn’t leave him, he wouldn’t heal, and he would bleed out. There had to be something.
Eddie fumbled in the grass for anything, his fingers grazing the fence that he almost escaped through, wrapping them around the rebar that was holding the barely stable wire in place. He pulled and pulled, somehow uprooting the dirt and pulling the wires along with it, and rammed the rebar through Its eye.
It stumbled backwards, blood or whatever It had pouring from the wound, and disappeared into the house, leaving Eddie alone with a hole in his stomach.
Blood kept coming. It wouldn’t stop, and Eddie started getting dizzy. Spots formed in his vision and he felt more and more inclined to close his eyes and sleep. But the blood was still coming.
He was healing. He felt it as he pressed his hands over his wound, trying to keep the pressure on and slow the flow of blood. But he felt so weak. He was so tired, and he thought that he definitely swallowed some blood because he had to choke down the need to vomit, something he knew would upset his healing process.
Slowly. Slowly, it healed. Eddie almost passed out, but he kept focus. Pressure. Keep pressure until it’s healed. Stay awake.
And when Eddie felt like he couldn’t stay awake any longer, he checked again, finding nothing more than a small cut down his chest, almost done healing, completely finished bleeding, surrounded by a large scar.
He hadn’t scarred from any of the other wounds, but none had been as big as this one.
He dropped his head down on the ground, and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, fumbling around for his inhaler, only to remember he left it at home.
But it was fine. He would be fine.
It took him twenty minutes to be able to stand up again. He was so dizzy and famished that he could barely sit up straight without getting vertigo. He went home, took a long hot shower, and threw away his clothes before his mother could see.
And when Richie came by later, Eddie told him about the clown, filling in details that didn’t actually happen as he decided to keep the scar a secret.