Wrong

•44•

⚠ Mention of cutting and eating disorders, some fancy schmancy words, but I tried to keep it simple ⚠

*Eddie's POV*

"Rich..."

My voice cracked as I opened the door to Richie's room. I've been in here dozens of times before, but this time, Richie was awake. For the first time in almost a month, he's awake.

Even more tears swarmed my eyes as I limped towards him and hugged him tightly.

After what felt like forever, but couldn't be long enough, I pulled away. Richie was crying, but he looked at me with no expression, and he didn't say anything to me.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kaspbrak! I see you've heard the good news." Richie's doctor smiled at me. "We're still getting a neurological scan and a head CT, but I'm afraid I know what's happened."

He sighed and walked towards me.

"While the bullet missed most of his brain, I believe it did hit his cerebrum. More specifically, the frontal lobe. So far, Richie's exhibited signs that he's lost control of his facial expression, his speech and his movement."

I breathed in sharply and shakily. Richie was still staring at me without an emotion, but more tears were falling down his face. I wiped them away with my thumb and smiled softly at him.

"Just so you're prepared, there's a possibility some other functions have been lost," The doctor started. "Reasoning, organizational skills, planning, problem solving, and most importantly, control. I wouldn't be suprised if Richie became spontaneous, or couldn't regulate his behaviors. He may not be able to pay attention or remember and control emotions."

He was already bad at self control and organizing I smiled to myself sadly

"I'll give you two a minute." The doctor said and started to walk out.

"Actually, could you send the others in please? Thank you."

He nodded and left. The Losers came in a minute later and crowded around us.

"God Richie, it was so quiet before," Stan laughed, crying happily. "But now it won't be!"

I burst into tears when he said that. Richie's jokes, his laugh, his smile...it's all gone.

Richie looked at me without moving his head. I gave him a small smile, trying to stay strong for him. I laid down on the bed next to him and nuzzled my head against his chest.

"Wait," Bill sat down slowly. "Wh-why isn't Richie t-talking...or m-moving?"

"Cerebrum..." Stan and Mike muttered at the same time. I nodded sadly and ran my hand through Richie's tangled curls.

"He lost some motor skills, didn't he?" Bev put a hand on my shoulder. I nodded again.

"H-he can't speak...and he can't move..." I looked up at Richie and saw that he was looking at me. His face was still, but I could almost see pain and pity.

"But he's awake," I grinned. "He's really awake. We can get physical therapy, and we can help get him better. Because he's AWAKE!"

"Definitely. We'll have you back to your old self in no time, Trashmouth." Bev chuckled.

I pressed a quick kiss to Richie's cheek and held his other cheek in my hand.

"I love you Richie. I missed you so much..."

I could practically hear his response:

"More than I miss fucking your mom?"

And the answer is yes. I absolutely missed Richie more than he misses pretending to have sex with my mom.

"Oh my gosh!" Bev squealed. "I almost forgot to tell you guys! Ruby and I were helping Emily with physical therapy and apparently, she asked her parents about her family history. Because Ruby's adopted, and she wanted to know if you two were related somehow. Her birth parents couldn't pay for two kids because she has a twin! Maybe that's you!"

Richie couldn't answer, obviously, but his lips twitched in a smile ever so slightly.

"We can save that for another time," I mumbled into Richie's chest. "Right now, it's snuggle time."

The Losers giggled and started moving out of the room.

"We'll give you two some space." Ben smiled and closed the door behind him.

"I. Missed. You." I told Richie, accenting each word with a kiss. He rolled his eyes at me playfully.

"I love you so much, Richie. And I thought you were dead. That's what everyone was preparing for..."

I felt tears spring to my eyes. That's all this day is made of, happy tears and sad tears.

"It's my fault," I whispered and sat up. "It's all my fault, and I know that doesn't make sense to you...but it's true."

Richie couldn't answer, but I know if he could, he'd be SCREAMING that I'm wrong. He'd be showering me with all the love in the world until I don't think it's my fault anymore.

"You've been out for almost a month... I was in the hospital for a while. I got therapy, emotional and physical. Physical wasn't that long, and now I just have a little limp. Emotional was weird... Lauren's nice, but she doesn't get it."

I sighed and looked at Richie. I've been dreading this moment since I first knew I had to tell him.

"I cut myself again, Richie. And I stopped eating for a little while."

Richie's eyes flooded and I felt so awful and guilty. I didn't want him to be upset just because I'm a failure.

"Don't cry, Rich," I begged. "Please don't cry..."

I hugged him tighter and sighed into his chest.

"I won't do it again. I promise I'll really try my hardest." I smiled softly and wrapped my pinky around his.

"Oh my gosh..." I grinned. "I did something crazy stupid..."

Richie rolled his eyes and I giggled. I moved off of him and stood up. My hands drifted down to the bottom of my shirt and I pulled it up.

On my side, in a small cursive font, permanently inked in my skin, lay the words "R+E"

Under the "R" was a pair of glasses and under the "E" was a fanny pack.

"I got it for you Richie..." I blushed and put my shirt back down. Richie was staring at me, his eyes widened.

"Blink if you like it?" I asked timidly and layed back down next to him. He started blinking quickly and rapidly. I blushed harder and moved closer.

"Thanks Chee..."