Author's Note: Tile inspired by Panic! at the Disco's "It Was Always You": watch?v=GoFylcrxdM0

It Was Always You

Chapter One

Richie's POV

It all happened so fast.

Hovering in the emptiness of the Deadlights. Eddie leaning over him. Blood splattering on his face. Eddie getting thrown. Pressing his jacket against the gaping hole in Eddie's chest. Killing that motherfucking clown; crushing its tiny little heart in his hands.

The Losers had managed to carry Eddie out of that hell hole and out of the crumbling Neibolt Street house. They're now all squished in Ben's car rushing towards Derry General Hospital. Richie is in the backseat cradling Eddie's head in his lap, screaming and sobbing simultaneously.

"Don't you dare fucking die on me, man! You can't fucking die! Not now! Not after we killed that motherfucker!"

Richie bends down and touches his forehead against Eddie's. He starts to rock against Eddie, sobbing hiccups ripping through this body.

He whispers, "Please don't leave me. I just got you back, you idiot. Please don't go." He gently kisses Eddie's cheek.

Eddie's eyes are semi-open but blank. Expressionless. Blood covers his front and has completely soaked through Richie's jacket.

They screech to a halt in front of Derry General, and before Richie even gets a chance to blink Eddie is pulled away by paramedics. Eddie's rolled directly into surgery and the Losers are slammed into chairs in the waiting room.

Richie feels like everything around him is crumbling. He covers his face with his hands allowing the sorrow and anguish to rack through his body.

It would take a miracle for Eddie to survive after losing so much blood. While Richie's never been the praying type, he sends his thoughts to whatever alien creature or being that is listening to spare Eddie's life.

He feels a hand land on his shoulder.

He jumps. "What the fuck!"

"Sorry, sorry! Richie, it's ok," Bev says. "I just thought you could use a cup of something warm." She's holding out a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

"Oh. Sorry, Bev." He takes the cup from Bev and drinks. It tastes like shit and burns going down his throat. He couldn't care less.

Bev crouches down next to Richie. "Hey, why don't you get cleaned up a little bit? Bill and Mike are going to go back to the Townhouse to wash up and change. You should go with them. Ben and I will stay until you come back in case there's any news."

Richie's shaking his head even before Bev is finished talking.

"Uh, uh. I…I can't." The tears start to roll down his cheeks. "What if…what if he-" His tears choke out the words before he can finish.

Bev rubs her hand on Richie's back and presses her forehead against Richie's. "It's ok. I'll tell you what, you and I can stay here while the others go back. I'll have them grab a change of clothes for you. Cause, no offense Trashmouth, your kinda disgusting."

Now that Bev mentions it, Richie is disgusting. He's covered in Eddie's blood, mud, and shit knows what else from Pennywise's lair. He sure as hell isn't leaving but a change of clothes would be nice.

Richie nods. "Ok."

Bev pulls back and smiles at him. "Ok."

/

Richie doesn't know how long it's been since Ben, Bill, and Mike have left. He's slumped in the chair, staring at the ceiling fan, and thinking about Eddie.

Richie remembers how as a kid he loved riling Eddie up. Teasing him about his fanny pack. Ragging on his mom. Pinching his cheeks. Cute, cute, cute!

He was fascinated with the way Eddie's face would scrunch in on itself when he was annoyed - creating a crease between his eyebrows, his lips falling in a flat line, his eyes taking on a new shade of brown. So fucking cute.

And, man, Richie absolutely loved it when Eddie would push back. Which he always did. He never let Richie get away with any of his shit. Always throwing back insults. Telling him to shut the fuck up. Pushing his way into the hammock.

Richie has two thoughts simultaneously. I fucking loved that hammock! Man, FUCK that hammock!

That hammock was both a blessing and a curse. Richie hogged the hammock as much as he could, and while he didn't think about it too deeply as a kid, he knows now he did it to get a rise out of Eddie. Eddie would yell at him about how his time was up while simultaneously squeezing in next to Richie. He ate up getting that kind of attention from Eddie.

The hammock meant he didn't have to find an excuse to touch Eddie. It would push their bodies up against each other - tangling their limbs and allowing him to feel the rise and fall of Eddie's breathing. Richie would hide his burning face behind a comic book hoping no one would notice.

But also, FUCK that hammock. Eddie would be there one moment and then the next he would be leaving to go home. Richie remembers feeling the cold creeping in replacing Eddie's warmth.

He would go home at night and relive the whole experience over again, and think about what it would be like to properly cuddle with Eddie. Eddie's breath against his neck. Eddie's big brown eyes staring up at him. Leaning down to kiss Eddie.

And, well, fuck. That's why Richie also hated that stupid hammock. It taunted him with what he wanted most in the world and made him realize he could never have it.

And in the last 27 years, nothing has changed. He still loves riling Eddie up. Shit, he did it all through dinner the night before.

Arriving at the restaurant and seeing all the other Losers grown up was surreal. The images of them as kids and adults blurring together.

When he first saw Eddie as an adult it literally took his breath away. Eddie looked the same but also completely different. Same pinched face, brown hair slicked back, and big warm brown eyes. As a kid Eddie was cute, but as an adult, he was fucking hot. Fuck, he even had a five o'clock shadow.

Richie had sat down next to Eddie at the dinner table cause, duh, even as an adult he needs to be as close as possible to Eddie. When the topic of marriage came up, he realized that Eddie was wearing a gold ring. It made him feel like he was going to throw up.

Not only is Eddie married but he's married to a woman. A woman who is in every way an exact replica of Eddie's shitty, manipulative, overprotective mother. God, Richie hated that woman. He hates both Mrs. K's.

It isn't fair. Eddie deserves so much better than his shitty mother and controlling wife. Eddie deserves the world.

Someone's shaking Richie's shoulder pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Richie, Richie," It's Ben. "Hey man, we brought you some clean clothes and food."

"Oh, thanks man." Richie grabs the clothes and stands up. His joints pop from sitting too long and his clothes are stiff against him from all of the dried blood and gunk. He shuffles to the nearest bathroom.

God, he looks like shit. He looks like he just crawled out of the sewer, which is actually pretty accurate.

He pulls off his dirty clothes and shoves them into the trash can. Now only in his boxers, he takes off his glasses and shoves his head under the faucet. The sink runs red and Richie has the urge to throw up but he hasn't eaten for hours. He dry heaves instead.

He pulls on the fresh clothes. A pair of jeans, one of his loud graphic button-ups, and a zip-up hoodie. He's still looks pretty shitty, but who the fuck cares. It felt good to be in clean clothes.

He comes out of the bathroom to find all of the Losers sitting, silently staring at him.

"Huh." Richie adjusts his glasses and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Thanks guys…you know…for the clothes."

Bill pats him on the back as he sits back down. They had brought all of their chairs into a small circle. It reminds Richie of the circle they created as kids when they promised to come back if Pennywise ever showed his ugly face again. He feels the empty space next to him where Eddie should be and the space where Stan should be.

Fuck. That's right - Stan. Eddie isn't the only one fighting for his life right now. Over a thousand miles away, Stan is also fighting the good fight. After Patty found Stan in the bath - his wrist cut wide, the water a pink color from all of the blood, two letters - IT - smeared and dripping on the wall - she called 911, crying as she held Stan's wet body in her arms. Miraculously, when the ambulance arrived they found he still had a pulse - small and weak, but still a pulse. He's been in a coma ever since.

Richie starts to sob again. He hears the scrapping of chairs as the Losers pull in closer to him. They pull him into a group hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Richie sobs. "It's just - I can't - I don't know what I'll do if he - if they-"

"Hey, hey. There's nothing to be sorry about man." Mike grabs his arm and squeezes.

"Eddie will make it through this, Richie. Stan too. I mean, you know how fucking stubborn they both are," Ben says. Richie breathes out a small laugh.

God, he loved these beautiful people around him. He forgot what it was like to have real friends. Friends that you could just be yourself around. Friends that wouldn't judge you. Friends you could tell your deepest, darkest secret to.

Richie feels his heart clench. Even though these are his best friends in the entire world he hasn't been completely open with them.

"You guys…I…I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you ages ago."

He feels them pull him in tighter.

"I'm…I'm…" Richie is gasping for breath cause, fuck, he's so afraid. There are people in his life that know he's gay, but these people around him are actually fucking important to him.

Bev leans her head against Richie's shoulder. "It's ok, Rich. You don't hav-"

"I'm gay."

Silence. Oh fuck. This is when they disappear on him.

Then he's getting smothered by them. He doesn't know whose arm is whose but it doesn't fucking matter. They're all sobbing together.

"Oh Richie, man, we love you so much," Bill says.

"Yeah, Richie. You'll always be our Trashmouth," Mike says.

Richie feels Bev peck him on the cheek. "Love you, Loser."

For once in his life Richie doesn't know what the fuck to say. He just starts crying.

He doesn't tell them about his feelings for Eddie. How he's been in love with the idiot since they were kids. He has a feeling they already know anyway.

He doesn't tell them because he wants Eddie to hear it first. He just hopes he gets the chance to tell him.

/

It's minutes or hours later, who the fuck knows, when the doctor shows up.

"Are you the group that brought in Mr. Kaspbrak?"

Richie shoots up, knocking his chair back. "Yes! Yes, he is - he is ok? Is he going to make it?" The words rushing out of his mouth.

He feels the others behind him. One of them grabs his arm to comfort him.

"He's still in critical condition. He's lost a lot of blood. We were able to stop the bleeding and give him a blood transfusion. He's currently in the ICU. Hopefully he wakes up soon, but to be honest, there's no way to know if and when he'll wake up."

Richie feels like his heart is breaking all over again. Eddie's still alive but that could change at any minute. Fuck, he could never wake up!

"Can we see him?" Richie asks, practically begging.

The doctor frowns. "Hmmm, like I said he's still in pretty critical condition, but I can allow you in for 10 minutes. But only 10 minutes."

"Oh fuck. Oh, thank you," Richie breathes out.

A nurse shows them to a room in the ICU. A curtain is blocking the bed from their view. Richie's afraid to step into the room, afraid to break whatever magic is keeping Eddie alive. Mike gently pushes him forward.

He steps around the curtain and sees Eddie laying in the hospital bed. Eddie looks like he got hit by a train. Or stabbed by an alien monster. His chest is completely wrapped in bandages, and a fresh cotton pad is on his cheek where Bowers stabbed him. He's paler than normal and he's connected to a million different wires and IVs. He's even hooked up to a breathing machine.

Richie crumples in on himself, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. The Losers gently guide him into a chair.

Eddie's still alive. There's still hope he can come out of this.

/

It's been two days since Eddie came out of surgery. He's still unconscious but he's finally stabilized. Just this morning they let the Losers stay in Eddie's room instead of the waiting room.

Over the last two days all of the Losers took turns going back to the Townhouse to take a proper shower and get a couple hours of sleep. All of them except Richie. Richie refused to leave the hospital. He wouldn't forgive himself if he wasn't there when Eddie woke up. The Losers brought him food, gently forcing him to eat.

Richie's just glad they're allowed to stay in Eddie's room. He pretends to watch whatever shitty thing is on the TV, but he can't keep his eyes from slowly drifting back to Eddie. It comforts him to watch Eddie's chest rise and fall. The breathing machine was removed the previous day so he's at least breathing on his own.

Richie wants to reach over and hold Eddie's pale hand. He wants Eddie to know he and the rest of the Losers are there. They'll get through this together.

All the Losers are there now, although he thinks it might be Ben's turn to go get a little shut eye.

Shouting in the hallway brakes Richie out of his thoughts.

"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS MY HUSBAND? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM?"

He hears nurses trying to calm the person, but they get drowned out by more shouting. Then there's stomping and a woman bursts into the room.

"Oh my god, Eddie-Bear! What happened to you!" the woman sobs, throwing herself across the room and falling on Eddie's still form.

Richie jumps out of his chair, trying to pull her off.

"HEY! What the fuck do you think you're doing!? Don't you see that he's literally wrapped like a fucking mummy!"

She turns on him, fire in her eyes.

"And who are you? Who are ALL of you?" She eyes all of them like they're there to steal one of Eddie's kidneys.

Bev steps forward. "Please, let us explain Mrs-"

"Are you the one that called my Eddie?" She stabs a finger at Bev. "Eddie was so upset. He came home after getting into a car accident. I tried to comfort him by making him his favorite cup of herbal tea but he was so frantic. He just ran around the house packing, talking about how one of his friends called him and he had to go! He just had to GO! He wouldn't tell me anything!"

"Ma'am, we're Eddie's friends. We're the ones that brought him-," Ben tries to say.

"NO! I don't want to hear it! I want you out of here! You've done enough to my Eddie! Get out!" Her face turns bright red with anger.

Before Richie can get his hands on the woman to throttle her there are a dozen nurses rushing into the room. They push the Losers out.

Richie doesn't have to ask who the woman is and what gives her the fucking right to kick them out of Eddie's room. Richie finally had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Kaspbrak.