❪ he feels at such a loss. there's a million and one thoughts running through his head but nothing sticks, nothing makes sense and he feels utterly useless in the moment. if eddie thinks on it, he can probably count on his hands the number of times he's seen richie cry but nothing he remembers feels useful now.

and rich isn't just crying, he's full on being rockes with sobs and all eddie can do is hold on. finally, he shuffles on his feet and moves to get richie sitting on the tiolet seat before they both fell over. ❫

Hey, hey. Listen to me... none of this is our fucking fault. You heard what Mike said about our memories.

❪ he's holding richie's face in both of his hands now, weakly rubbing away at the tears and trying to keep his own breathing in check.

honestly, he'd probably cry too if he wasn't so pissed off. ❫

It's all because of that fucking clown. That thing... It fucked with our memories.