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topaztales · 5 years
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I call this one: Reddie dialogue but you decide who’s who
A- listen, it’s been a very long week
B- it’s Tuesday
A- and I’m exhausted and it’s way past my bedtime
B- it’s literally 5 pm???
A- SO I’ve elected to drink a glass of choccy milk and sleep for the next 48 hours. You in?
B- Yes of course.
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topaztales · 5 years
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Hey! So this is my Richie x Eddie fic, titled Nightmares. 
In summary, Eddie survives and comes to live with Richie after divorcing his wife. But following the events in Derry, Richie struggles with PTSD and heavily internalized homophobia that manifests in terrible nightmares. Richie tries not to show how it’s affecting him, But Eddie eventually catches up.
this one’s kinda angsty but I promise it gets happy, please check AO3 for the complete tag/warning list.
First chapter is below the cut!
NIghtmares
 chapter 1- The Phone Call
Richie could taste blood. It wasn’t his blood, he knew it wasn’t. He knew because Eddie was standing above him wide eyed as the claw tore through his chest. His blood spilled everywhere. It was on Richie’s glasses, in his mouth. He was helpless to watch his best friend, his Eddie, get tossed aside like nothing. Limp. The image was seared into his mind until everything went black. For a moment, it was all gone.
Then Richie could taste blood. Then he watched happen again. Then it was gone and he could taste blood. Then again. And again. Again. Again.
Eventually Richie’s eyes shot open and he was staring at his blurry ceiling, breathing hard. His throat was tight and sore from crying in his sleep.  He scrambled around for his glasses, swinging his legs over the side of his bed so he could sit up property. Shoving his glasses on his face, Richie got his bearings. He was in his small apartment, in Los Angeles, in California. Not in the Neilbolt house, not Derry, not Maine. 
Richie struggled to catch his breath. Bracing his hands on his knees, he recalled Eddie’s old breathing exercises. In, out. In, out, trying to slow his breathing. In, out. Blood on his glasses. No. In, out. Blood in his mouth. Stop it. In, out. In, out. Eddies gone. Richie choked on a sob before clapping his hand over his mouth as if he was afraid of being heard. He knew it wasn’t true, that Eddie was still alive. But when Richie was alone in the dark his mind started playing tricks on him. Richie knew that when he came out the deadlights, he’d just barely knocked Eddie out of the way of the direct path of the claw, but it still did lots of damage. In his dreams, Richie wasn’t so fast. It sent a chill down his spine. 
Shakily, Richie grabbed his phone and unlocked it, staring at his recent call list. Eddie’s name was at the top. They called each other often after leaving Derry. While Eddie was in the hospital, they’d talked about what came next. 
Richie had joked Eddie should become a professional clown killer since he was clearly so good at it. Eddie had just rolled his eyes. He’d been in the hospital for about a week by this point, the wound in his side still requiring professional care. 
“Very funny dickhead.” Eddie retorted, but there was no bite in his words.
“But seriously, are we just supposed to go back to our old lives after this shit?” Richie asked, leaning back in the chair at Eddie’s bedside. “I mean, shit has to change now. I’m going to have to start working killer alien clown jokes into my act. My manager’s gonna have an aneurism.”
Eddie laughed, and Richies heart clenched like he was thirteen again. He loved hearing that laugh.
“Yeah, shit’s gonna change.” he said. Eddie’s voice was soft, almost contemplative. 
Richie huffed. “I just said that dude. Pay attention.” He reached out and pinched Eddie’s not-stabbed cheek. “Earth to Spaghetti, do you copy? Over.”
Eddie slapped his hand away with false annoyance. “Oh grow up Rich, I was literally agreeing with you. God, you’re impossible.” Richie just laughed. 
There was silence for a beat. Richie was looking for a joke to fill the void, but before he could find one Eddie broke the silence. 
“I’m going to leave my wife.” He blurted. Richie was a bit taken aback by the suddenness. Eddie was staring straight ahead, looking surprised at his own outburst.
“So, she told you then?” Richie asked, hesitantly.
Eddie raised an eyebrow at him. “Told me what?”
Richie’s grinned, a look Eddie knew meant a punchline was incoming. “About our torrid affair, I’ve been smashing your woman for weeks now.”
Eddie shoved him. “Oh, beep fucking beep, asshole!” Richie just laughed. “Im serious Rich! God I try to have one genuine moment and you have to fuck it up.”
  “Alright, alright. I’m sorry Eds” Richie certainly didn’t sound sorry. 
“Don’t call me that.”
That exchange had happened about two months ago. Once Eddie was discharged, he went to sort things out with Myra. “I faced an evil alien murder clown,” he’d said. “I can certainly face my wife long enough to leave her.” Richie had swelled with pride at how brave Eddie had been. He’d always been brave. Not like Richie, who woke up crying every night with nightmares. There was a handful of recurring ones, all involving Eddie. Eddie dying was common, so were all the deaths of his friends he watched in the deadlights. But sometimes Richie dreamt they were in the hammock again. Richie would look up from his comic book to see Eddie staring at him, smiling. Then his face would start to flake away into white paint as his features contorted and he’d start mocking Richie. You’re sick Richie! You’re perverted, I know you are. I know all about your dirty little secret. Richie couldn’t move. The voice was an awful amalgamation of Eddie and Pennywise, and it shook Richie to his core. Who’d stay friends with you? You’re a filthy fag. 
Other times he could feel Henry Bowers fists slamming into him, and his head swirled with all of his insults. Freak. Fairy. Pervert. Fag. Sometimes the names were hurled by Bowers, sometimes Pennywise, sometimes Eddie. 
Every time, Richie woke up crying. He’d considered telling Eddie about the nightmares, but he had no idea how that conversation would go. “Hey Eddie sorry to wake you, but my immense gay feelings for you and the traumas we’ve encountered have compounded into terrible nightmares that make my cry like a little bitch.” Yeah, no. Besides the terrible phrasing, Eddie had enough on his plate with his messy divorce. Myra had apparently not taken it well, and they’re still battling it out. He didn’t need Richie stacking more problems on him right now. So Richie would manage. 
Eddie called him later in the day, just after five. Richie had been paying some bills, a terrible and grown up thing to do. He was taking a leave from doing gigs. His manager, Steve, had just about ripped him a new one for leaving on such a short notice until Richie told him an old friend had passed away, and that’s why he left so suddenly. It was also why he needed time from gigs, to “process.” Begrudgingly, Steve accepted. Hard to argue with the dead friend excuse, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. But now he ways paying bills from savings alone, so he was happy for the distraction that was Eddie’s phone call. 
“Chhk, Eduardo, do you copy? Over.” Richie spoke into his cell phone like it was a walkie talkie. He heard Eddie groan on the other end of the line. 
“Remind me why I bother calling you?” Eddie asked.
“Chhk, because I’m your best friend and you have to, chhk, over.”
Eddie chuckled. “Knock it off Rich, I actually have some news.”
“Chhk, You’re supposed to end all transmissions with ‘Over’, Eds. chhk, over.”
“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said, before sighing and giving in. “Over.”
Richie smiled. “See, that wasn’t so hard! So what’s the news?” he said, deciding to drop the walkie talkie bit now that Eddie had caved.
“Well,” he sounded shaky. “There’s good news and bad news.”
“I already know the bad news.” Richie said solemnly.
“How’s that?”
“Myra's pregnant and it’s mine.”
Eddie groaned. “I'm hanging up now-”
“Wait, wait!” Richie laughed, “C’mon eds, just tell me what the news is.”
“Don’t call me that.” Eddie replied on instinct. He paused for a moment, then said, “We got it finalized today.”
Richie sat up in his chair. “That’s great news! Why didn’t you lead with that?”
He could hear Eddie huff. “Because someone can’t ever shut up long enough to let me get a word in.”
Richie hummed. “Can’t imagine who that would be, sounds a bit rude.”
“He’s the biggest asshole I know, hands down.”
“Well any man who sleeps with his best friend’s now ex-wife has gotta be a huge douche.”
“Jesus Christ, Richie.”
“That’s what your ex-wife said!” Richie jumped at the chance of the joke.
“Would you let me finish?”
“THAT’S WHAT YOUR-” The line went dead as Richie laughed. He knew Eddie didn’t mean anything by the end of the call, it was just a way to tell Richie to shut up. Richie chuckled to himself as he dialed Eddie back. He picked up on the second ring.
“Got it all out of your system dickwad?” Eddie asked, sounding mildly annoyed.
Richie shook his head to himself and answered, “My humor never leaves my system, my dear boy.”
Richie could feel Eddie rolling his eyes on the other side of the country. “Do you even want to hear the bad news?”
Richie paused. Did he? “Yeah, uh, shoot.”
Eddie sighed. He sounded tired now. “Like I said, it’s been messy with Myra. She’s taking everything she can get. That includes, uhm,��� Eddie swallowed, “that includes our apartment.”
Richie didn’t really know how to respond to that. The phone was silent for awhile until Eddie spoke up again. “It’s not like I’m homeless now or anything,” he hurried. His voice was a bit nervous and Richie could tell he was going into a freak-out. “Its just I really liked the place and Myra and I picked it out together and I hate apartment hunting because there’s so many factors involved and its so stressful-”
“Move in with me.” Richie blurted. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but he hated hearing Eddie panic without being able to do anything about it. Now the line was silent and Richie had to resist the urge to slam his head into his desk. 
“What?” Eddie asked, like he didn’t believe what he’d heard.
Richie stood up from his desk and started pacing nervously. “I- I mean, you could stay with me if you like. At least until you find a place of your own. I don't know, I just thought”-he had not thought at all- “that it might help relieve some of the stress. So you don’t have to rush the process.”
Richie paused, but the line was still silent. Fuck. He’s fucked it. Why does he never think before opening his stupid mouth? Why would Eddie want to stay with him all the way in L.A.? 
His place is a mess! And Richie… well Richie is also a mess. 
“Okay.” Richie was so busy panicking he barely heard the reply.
“What did you say?”
“I said okay, numbnuts. If it’s really alright, I think I need a break from NYC anyways.”
“Oh.” Richie’s heart started to race. He hadn’t seen Eddie since they left Derry. “Well, you’re going to have to give me some time to vacate the guest room.”
“Oh, do you have a guest over? There’s really no rush-”
“No, no, its fine. It’s just that your mom has spent the past few nights with me.”
“Beep Beep Richie.”
They agreed it would be best for Eddie to come the next day, give him time to pack everything and fly over.  So Richie spent the rest of the day cleaning and rearranging his apartment. He did actually have a spare room, but he had made it into a rarely used office/storage room. Eddie would take his room of course. Not only was it cleaner, but Richie secretly hoped that if Eddie was comfortable, he’d stay longer. So Richie rearranged the office to fit an air mattress. Since he had no actual idea of how long Eddie would be staying, at some point he figured he’d have to buy a second bed. He was okay with that, but an air mattress would have to do for now. Then he deep cleaned everything else. He did all the dishes that had stacked up, did laundry, and spent the day swimming in his thoughts as he cleaned. Eddie would be living with him. Living with him! For god knows how long but it was happening! Richie didn’t know if he was more excited or nervous. On one hand, he’d be living with the boy he’d had a crush on since he was thirteen. On the other hand, he’d be living with the straight boy he’d had a secret gay crush on since the eighties, a very unkind time for such situations.
At least I’ll know he’s alive. Richie thought to himself. The thought made his hands freeze over his dishes. In all the excitement over the phone call, Richie hadn’t even considered his nightmares. What if Eddie heard him crying in his sleep? God, that would be embarrassing. But Richie supposed he was right the first time. At least he’d know Eddie was alive. 
Richie had the apartment to a satisfactory level by two A.M., at which point he could barely keep his eyes open. Climbing into bed Richie thought about how tomorrow night, Eddie would be here. He tried to keep his mind on positive thoughts as he drifted to sleep. 
Then Richie could taste blood.
If you enjoyed this chapter please please please go check out the rest on AO3! Chapters 1-3 are there now with roughly two more on the way. Hope you liked it!
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