serendipity {sequel to pop} || reddie

dix-neuf

"Eddie, Eddie. No, no, no, Eddie, look at me, hey."

Eddie opens his eyes; he must have blacked out. It feels like he is underwater. Sounds are muted, vision is blurred. And then it all snaps back, and suddenly everything is clear as day; it's loud, with people moving around and yelling, and Richie kneeling over him. He's been propped up against a nearby rock.

Eddie takes his first breath in since It had stabbed him. It's excruciating.

"Richie," Eddie wheezes. "I'm going to die, right?"

Richie shakes his head so wildly that it's a miracle his glasses don't fly off. "Don't say that, Eddie, no. Of course you aren't, you're not gonna die."

Beverly comes to kneel beside them. Eddie looks down at his wound. It's the most blood he's ever seen in his life. Part of it is almost exhilarating; god, Eddie used to get so excited whenever he'd trip, as a kid. I'm going to fall. I'm going to get to feel what pain is like.

The thought occurs to him that there's a hole going straight through his body right now, all the way through, and that strikes him as rather peculiar. Not jarring or horrifying or alarming, just strange. A little bit funny. Holy shit, Eddie thinks. Hole-y shit.

Richie might think that was funny, he thinks.

Eddie looks back up towards Richie, then back towards his wound, and back to Richie again.

He makes a strange, involuntary noise of pain, somewhere between a grunt and a whimper. "I'm dying." He says, with conviction this time.

"You're not dying, Eddie." Richie replies, voice strained.

"You're fine." Beverly adds, hands resting anxiously on Eddie's side, right at the edge of his wound.

Eddie coughs up blood.

Beverly's reassuring smile flickers. "You're going to be fine." She looks back up at Richie. "Richie, we've got to go. You've got to come help."

Richie shakes his head. He's holding one of Eddie's hands in both of his own. Eddie can feel him trembling.

"Richie," Eddie says, voice weak. "Go."

Beverly stands up, heading towards the rest of the group, as Richie shakes his head again.

"Just a little longer," Richie whispers, and Eddie can't tell who he's talking to. "A little longer."

Eddie takes a breath. This hurts. This hurts so bad, for so many reasons. But the pain fades in and out; Eddie fades in and out.

"I always wanted to go out with no regrets." Eddie sighs a little. He looks down to where Richie is holding his bloodstained hand and smiles a little. "And I don't have any, thanks to you."

"Don't say that shit, Eddie, that's so final." Richie's voice shakes, and his grip tightens.

That wasn't how Eddie meant it, but he doesn't have enough strength to explain that. Instead, he laughs a little. "You're such an idiot."

"Yeah." Richie smiles weakly.

"Go fight It, Richie." Eddie tells him. "I know you can beat It."

This time, Richie nods. "Okay."

He leans down towards Eddie's face and kisses him, slow and sweet. He can taste Eddie's blood.

Richie pulls away, and Eddie coughs again. More blood.

"Gross." Eddie smiles faintly. "You're gonna get some sort of disease."

"I love you." Richie says.