Hold Me (Reddie)

All Patched Up

Richie had been generous, more generous than Eddie expected. Richie had brought him back to his house, which was small and empty. Eddie had stopped asking why no one was ever home. For as long as they'd been friends, no one had ever really been home. Eddie felt that it would be rude to ask, so he just stayed quiet. He would rather be quiet than rude. The Tozier house was not only small and empty, but very cluttered, with things in every inch of the place. It scared Eddie like you wouldn't believe, but still, he kept quiet. Besides, his mind was almost to preoccupied with worrying about what he'd tell his mom when she saw the cut on his head. Those kids are evil, Eddie, why can't you see that? They're trying to hurt you! Eddie knew his mother was different. Scared. That didn't give her the right to stop Eddie from seeing Richie. Eddie wouldn't do anything to stop seeing Richie. The kid was perfect.

"Let's just hang here," Richie laughed, walking into his tiny bedroom. It was the cleanest room in the house by far. That rarely happened with teenagers. Just a bed, a closet, and a big stereo by the window. The window overlooked Forest Drive, and Richie would always laugh about that. None other than Patty Lang lived on Forest Drive. She had bright blonde hair and stupid jelly shoes. But a lot of boys Eddie's age actually liked her. She wore bright red lipstick like she was Madonna's long lost sister or something. No, she was just some teenager at Derry Middle School.

"Mom will kill me if I'm not home soon, you know I'm serious," Eddie said.

"I am too, Eds. That bitch keeps you from living." Eddie couldn't help but laugh. He sat on the window sill, looking out the window at all the passing cars. He got so nervous around Richie, it was hell. His dumb teenage feelings. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be some hermit with like, eight cats. And your mom would make you watch Sesame Street all day."

"Well what do you think she does all day? Sesame Street, round the clock," Eddie laughed loudly.

"No, actually, she watches the same exact news program from 1973 or some shit!" This time Richie was the one laughing. He laughed and laughed and laughed until he had to cough, and then he laughed some more. Pretty soon Eddie joined in, laughing at his friend, and then they were two idiotic thirteen year olds laughing their heads off for no reason other than the humor of Eddie's mother. Eddie didn't even know he could laugh so much. The joke wasn't even funny.

"Bill's gonna be pissed that we just ran out," Eddie stated.

"Are you kidding? He'll be thrilled! Once Stan and Mike leave he'll be in her pants once and for all. Trust me, it's all he's been thinking about since he got that phone call." Eddie couldn't help but let his mind wander. He thought of the summer...he never liked doing that. But he always did anyways. He didn't know why, and if he could stop thinking about it he surely would. But it was as if he had no control over his own mind, and the summer just haunted him. The summer had always just been haunting him. "What's wrong with you? Did that fall mess with your brain or something?"

"Oh - no. Just thinking."

"About Beverly?" Richie joked. Eddie didn't even laughed at it. He always laughed at Richie's jokes.

"Let me ask you a question. Just how much do you remember about...uh...the summer...?" Eddie shuddered after asking the question. He was breaking the promises the losers had made! It was two simple promises, two Eddie believed he'd be able to keep. But he didn't. Rule one was simple. If It would ever come back, 27 or 54 years later. And then rule number two, which in most ways Eddie figured would be easier to follow. Never mention It, the summer of 1989, or the horrible death of Georgie Denbrough. And Eddie had just broken the second rule. He didn't keep his promise. God, he was better off dead! He would be dead!

"I try my best not to think about it," Richie admitted. "And my that, I mean I think about it a lot. It starts to rain and I see Georgie. Someone mentions sewers and I freak. How many other people do you know that freak out when they hear the word sewer?"

"I'd say six," Eddie laughed. "I didn't know you even thought about it. I didn't know you ever really got scared."

"Yeah right, that's believable. Richie Tozier, scared of nothing. So scared he has to make the dumbest, most annoying jokes you've ever heard! Yeah, scared of nothing. You must be crazy, Eds, if you think I'm scared of nothing. You're crazy. Stupid crazy, stupid fucking crazy. I'm scared of everything."

"Well you're not the only one," Eddie said. Everyone knew about his fears. God, there were so many, he could barely even count. It seemed to be the only thing he wasn't afraid of was his aspirator. Even Richie, his best friend, his companion...his crush. It was such a brutal word. He tried not to think about it. Not just a crush, everyone had those. A crush on a boy. It made his stomach lurch. He did have a crush on a boy, but no ordinary boy. Richie. His best friend. His best friend, damnit! How depressing was that? Eddie made up his mind right then and there. He was a teenager, so he was going to do what teenagers did best. Not homework, of course. Oh fuck no. He was going to be stupid. "I'd better go home now, okay Rich?"

"Fine. But just try not to fall again. Later alligator."

"In a while crocodile," Eddie laughed, running out the doors of his friend's house like a torpedo. Yes, he was on a mission. He was going to do the only romantic thing he'd ever seen work. Write a poem. Of course, he never had actually written poetry before. But how hard could it be? He biked home in a dash, walking in and not even bothering to say hi to his mother at the couch.

"Eddie? Is that you? How was the sleepover at Stanley's? Don't lock yourself in your room, it's not safe!"

"Mom, I'm busy, leave me alone!" Eddie slammed the door to his room and blockaded it with a chair. He then got out a small piece of paper and started scribbling some ideas around, stupid ideas. He wasn't good at poetry. He ended up tearing the paper up and grabbing a new one. He ended up doing that fourteen times before he was at least satisfied with the haiku.

We are some losers
I am one, I'll admit it
But you're perfect

(At least in my stupid eyes)

Eddie felt the last part was necessary to get his point across. Because who else would find Tozier perfect? Only Eddie. It would only ever be Eddie.