Chapter Text
Richie stared listlessly at the door. He wasn't sure how long he'd been doing just that, but his vision was blurring and his eyes felt dry and rough when he blinked. A long time, then. Thoughts were running around his head like a freight train, unable to stop.
"I really think you shouldn't do that, Richie. It's bad for you.", Eddie Kaspbrak’s voice echoed in his mind as he lit up a cigarette, the cherry burning bright red in the dusk of the room. He took a drag, holding the breath deep in his chest before letting it out in thin stream through his nose. He was far past caring about smoking indoors by now.
“You're gonna die from lung cancer, Richie!”, he said to himself, his tone an almost spot on imitation of Eddie’s. A rueful laugh escaped his lips. “What a fucking idiot.”
Nobody had told him Eddie had been invited to the party. Shit, Richie didn’t even know he was back in town! Eddie had been gone for so long and he was almost doing alright again. Life was finally settling in after the nuclear bomb that was their break up and he had nothing to complain about. Then he quite literally collided with Eddie at Beverly’s party earlier that night, completely unprepared.
Richie’s phone beeped obnoxiously several times, and he fumbled it out of his pocket and squinted down at it.
S(a)tan: When I call you are going to pick the fuck up.
S(a)tan: Beverly is worried, so is Bill
S(a)tan: I know you’re wondering and the answer is no, I didn’t know he was coming
Much like Stanley had written in his text, Richie’s phone started ringing just a few seconds later. He contemplated not picking up but Stan probably knew he had seen his texts. Besides, if there was anyone whose anger Richie feared, it was his.
“What do you want?”, Richie muttered into his phone, taking another drag on his cigarette.
“I want to know where you are. And also if you’re alright? But mostly where you are.”, Stan sounded worried.
“I’m home.”, the second question went unanswered. Richie wasn’t sure what the problem was anyway. He didn’t want to talk to Eddie so he left, simple as that.
“Can I come over?”
“No.”
“Richie, come on.”, Stan moaned. “I didn’t-”
“Did you know?”
“I already told you I-”
“No, not the party. Did you know he came back?”
Stan was quiet, and his silence was too telling. Stan knew. He fucking knew and he had said nothing.
“I’m sorry, Rich.”, Stan said softly after a few seconds. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know what to tell you. I didn’t think there was a risk of you two meeting. Beverly mentioned she had ran into him downtown, and they talked for a while. She said nothing about inviting him to the party. Maybe she didn’t, you know there’s always people showing up unannounced. Maybe he came with someone else.”
“He didn’t.”, Richie was sure Beverly had invited Eddie, but she should’ve known better.
“Richie, what happened between you and Eddie?”, Stan asked carefully. “You never explained. He was just gone one day.”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“You don’t break up with someone without knowing why.”, Stan’s voice was soft. “Did… did you do something?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Eddie do something?”
“He screamed at me, hit me with a frying pan in the shoulder, then he packed his bags and left. I don’t know why, he never told.”
Stan snorted at the mentioned of the frying pan followed quickly by an apology. It wasn’t funny, not really. Richie had been unable to lift his left arm for days afterwards, but the image of Eddie swinging a frying pan at him was just too good.
“Stan, I’m gonna go now. Don’t come here, please. Not now.”
“Okay.”, Stan agreed reluctantly. “Just promise me you’ll call if you need anything, alright? Me or Bill.”
“Sure.”
“Richie.”
“I promise, okay?! I will call.”, he hung up, ground the butt of his cigarette into the floor to put it out and crawled over to the sofa. It was going to be a long night with thoughts and feelings he didn’t want, so he didn’t plan on spending it sleeping on the floor of his own apartment.
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“What did he say?”, Beverly asked Stan, gripping his shoulder tightly and looking at him with wide eyes.
“He’s home. He sounded alright, but he probably isn’t.”
“Shu-Should we go s-see him?”, Bill looked less worried than Beverly, but Stan knew that wasn’t the case.
“No, he didn’t want that. He promised he would call…”, Stan didn’t need to elaborate what he meant, they all knew. They had all witnessed the mess Richie had been after Eddie just upped and left.
The party was dying outside Beverly’s bedroom. Someone had lowered the music and they could hear people in the hallway laughing and stumbling around, probably struggling to get the right shoes on their feet. She opened the door and peered outside, waving at some guest who shouted a heartfelt goodbye.
“Did he leave?”, she looked back at Bill and Stan, who both shrugged unknowingly. “I’ll go check.”
Bill shared a look with Stan. Did they really want to talk to Eddie? They hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from him in the two years he had been gone, they didn’t even know where he had been. He had fallen off the face of earth and left a broken Richie behind. Suddenly the door flung open and Beverly was pushing a rather scared looking Eddie inside. His wide eyes fell on Bill and Stan, who stared back with mixed feelings.
“Hey, guys.”, Eddie tried to smile, but it quickly fell off his face when no one returned the gesture. “I… I’m so sorry for this mess.”