infatuation|reddie

epilogue

(I unpublished it cause I added a few things ;))) )

•

Funerals are the fucking worst.

When the day came for Eddie's funeral, Richie refused to touch the floor of his bedroom. Maggie insisted he go, but didn't care if he didn't. Richie knew he should- and he did.

He wore his old, dark green tux with the black tie and dark green dress pants. He hadn't worn the outfit in two years but it still fit him, as he hadn't gained much weight. Bill's father would pick him up, and the Denbrough family was attending the funeral as well.

They went to the chapel for his funeral, and Richie had a five minute look at Sonia- she was balling her eyes out, crying loudly. Eddie was her sweet son who'd gone too soon. Frank was there, but was eating the cheese cubes at the small snack corner.

It had been two weeks since Eddie's death.

All of the Losers attended, saying short or sometimes longer meaningful speeches about Eddie Kaspbrak, and when Richie read his- he didn't finish it. Everyone Eddie knew was staring at him and he was responsible for his death (is what he thought) and he teared up and cried in front of them.

"I'm so sorry," Richie had sobbed. "I'm so-so sorry."

He couldn't bring himself to look at the dead body in the open casket.

•

A few hours later, Stan was at Bill's house after the funeral was done. The boys changed out of their tuxes and played Wii tennis. Stan couldn't help but feel bad about it, though. They'd just gone to their dead friends' funeral and now they're here, having fun.

Eddie should've been having fun with them.

"I feel like we shouldn't be doing this." Stan said, and Bill threw his hand swiftly because he had to hit the ball back to Stan.

"Why's that?" Asked Bill, glancing at his bespectacled friend.

"'I just feel bad. About everything."

"It was no one's fault, Stanny." Bill paused the game, which confused the curly haired boy. "Not yours, not Richie's."

They both stared at each other for what felt like forever before Stan gulped, and looked down. "I know that. I just can't help it. Eddie was just here and now..."

"I know, Stan."

Bill grabbed his hand.

"...Do you think Richie's coming back to school?"

"Maybe next week. We all miss Eddie."

"Yeah." Stan didn't know how else to agree. He hoped Bill would just unpause their game because his lungs felt tough and his face was holey-moley hot. Stan looked down at their hands. "Um..."

Bill didn't get the hint. "Want to grab some sodas? I'm literally sweating."

"Y-yeah. Um, your hand-"

"Let's go!" Bill dragged Stan into the hallway to the parlor, then passed that to enter the kitchen. But he didn't let go of Stan's hand. Which was weird, considering the fact that Bill was straight (until further notice) and Stan hasn't yet shared his undying love for him.

Bill let go of Stan's sweaty palm, grabbed three grape sodas and two Coca Cola's, then put them in a bucket cause he didn't want to carry them in his arms.

"Um, hey, Bill?"

"What's up?"

"Why did you hold my hand?"