INSTANT REPLAY | REDDIE

- 08 | INSTANT REPLAY

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When Eddie woke up, he wasn't sure at first where exactly he was. He saw the trees, and part of him believed for a split second that he had fallen asleep while helping his friends build the clubhouse in the Barrens. But then he remembered that he had just been about to find where the clubhouse would have been in real life before he dreamt about the photo album.

His back ached terribly, and his joints felt stiff. There was a horrible chill that had taken over his entire body. It was dark out. He must have slept through most of the afternoon. His head felt clear, however, which was extremely refreshing after nearly a month of living on what felt like no sleep.

The next thing Eddie noticed was that he could hear someone talking. The voice was extremely familiar. He forced his arms to move, even though his muscles screamed in protest, and sat up. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked around himself, eyes settling on a figure standing halfway up the slope that led to the side of the road.

His curls were outlined by the moonlight, which also reflected off of his glasses. That was enough to tell Eddie who it was. The boy was holding something up to his ear, presumably a phone, and in his other hand was the outline of a small stick that was all too familiar to Eddie, giving off a white smoke at the burning tip. Eddie let himself fall back against the grassy floor, making a soft whump sound. There was a sharp intake of breath from the boy standing on the hill, then a frantic and uneven set of footsteps before someone was on their knees beside Eddie.

"Are you awake?" The voice asked softly. A warm hand touched Eddie's cheek, and it felt like it was burning him. Jeez, Eddie thought with slight amusement. I must be pretty cold.

"I am now," he replied, surprised to hear how raspy his voice was. "Couldn't stay away, huh?" He attempted to make a joke, reaching up and brushing his icicle-like fingers against Richie's cheek. The boy flinched, before grasping Eddie's hand tightly in his own and pressing his fingers against his warm cheek. Eddie resisted the urge to immediately pull away, trying to convince himself that this warmth would keep his fingers from falling off.

"Jesus, Eds, your fingers are freezing... Don't worry, the paramedics are on their way. I'm sure your mom is worried sick." Richie's tone was gentle, but there was an underlying sense of bitterness when he mentioned Sonia.

"My mom?" Eddie asked, but what he was really focused on was the fact that Richie had just called him Eds without having to think about it first. He smiled a little bit, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, your mom. She's probably somewhere crying hysterically instead of helping search for you." Richie scoffed. "You're lucky I took the long way home from Bev's house, or I wouldn't have seen—"

"I don't want to see my mom," Eddie blurted out suddenly, completely cutting off his friend's speech. There was a moment of silence in which Eddie could feel the shock coming off of the boy in waves.

"You don't?" Richie asked quietly. Eddie shook his head stiffly.

"She'll just make me talk about things I don't want to talk about," he managed to say in a shaky voice. His lips were numb due to the cold. He lifted his other hand for Richie to take, and the boy did, pressing it against his other cheek. Eddie noticed that the cigarette had disappeared, and Richie's hands were shaking with something that wasn't the cold. "Like what I'm doing here."

"What are you doing here?" Richie asked boldly. Eddie hesitated, pulling the boy's face down so his head was next to his own and Richie's body heat was closer to him. He could smell the smoke even if the boy didn't have any right that minute. It made him frown, brushing his thumb across Richie's cheek. Why?