Act IX

a/n: ive been waiting to write this chapter and the next since the very beginning. good luck to you all😶

The End, Part I

"He's still not here. He's still not here! What the fuck!? Jared's not here!!" Eddie panics, pacing worriedly at the front of his and Richie's tables in the theatre classroom.

Richie is reclined in his seat, feet propped onto a chair nearby, as usual, watching Eddie's frantic state in amusement.

"He does this all the time! I swear, Eds, he'll be back in time for the show" Richie reassures, though he knows he shouldn't be making false promises.

Rain and thunder booms outside, and over-dramatic gasps hum through the classroom every once in a while. It's really coming down hard today.

Class is nearly over, but the teacher pretty much gave them all a free day today for the period. After the success that was last night, he was generous with gifting them a lazy hour of nothing to do. So they're all currently chatting it up in different groups in the room. Richie and Eddie are finally in their original seating arrangements, but unfortunately not under the best of circumstances

Abruptly, Eddie stops pacing and throws his hands down on Richies table, startling the lanky boy on the other side. "You don't know that! He could be sick, or dead! Or maybe he hates me, and wants me to suffer! I've seen him look at me sometimes, I could be overthinking, but he never looks all too friendly if you ask me" Eddie babbles.

Richie rolls his eyes. He wants Eddie to stop worrying. I mean, he's been preparing for this ever since the cast list was posted. What does he expect to happen? Eddie? Mess up? Maybe in another life.

And the worst part is that Richie knows what would calm him down. Knows (at least to an extent) what would shut him up about all this. He'd always liked to playfully use it against Eddie when he got too riled up about something, and they were alone enough for him to indulge in it. He's been craving it himself since it left his reach that Monday afternoon, with its tragic ending. He knows he can't have it. Not anymore. And the though is so utterly painful that he can't stand to think of it another second.

Richie is aware that he has self control. And he's also aware that the best times he's had with Eddie in fact weren't really the ones locked in the janitors closet together, or doing any of that stuff. It was when they were friends, bickering and teasing and being each other's new eyes to the world. So, with that in mind, he knows he can stand just being Eddie's friend for as long as he has to. He has self control. And I'm not repeating this so Richie can believe it for himself. Definitely not! He can do this, for christ's sake! He just needs to... not think of these things every time he has to re-center his priorities about Eddie.

"Calm your tits! Give it some time, Eds. I owe you a tenner if he doesn't show, eh?" Richie says, waving his hand as if it was nothing.

Eddie stared at him grudgingly. "A tenner is a British term, Richie, but either way I better be getting my money tonight" he huffs, and the bell rings right then.

Thunder cracks down from the sky. Eddie takes his bag and with one last stubborn glance at Richie, stomps out the door.

Please be here, Jared, Richie thinks, immediately aware that he does not have a 'tenner' on him at all.

___

"This might as well be the worst situation to be in right now" Ben shakes his head, holding his history textbook over his head as it uselessly shields him from the rain. Richie huffs in agreement, pulling his flannel further over his already damp curls.

They're booking it (no pun intended, poor Ben) for the D building to the classes they neighbor in side by side for 5th period. Ben is desperately trying to avoid the puddles all around as they near the building.

"Could be worse!" Richie hollers over the sounds of other students around, and the loud rain above. "I could get struck by lightning, become a vegetable for the rest of forever," he shrugs, looking up thoughtfully. "And you could slip on your ass and also become a vegetable from brain damage. All that meat crashing to the floor simulates impact, Benny Boy" he says, clicking his tongue jokingly.

Ben rolls his eyes with a chuckle, "Beep beep, Richie."

They both crash through the double doors, nearly slipping on the water beneath them, and head for the hallway of their classes.

"Let's hope the rain dies down for your performance, Richie" Ben says with an exasperated huff as he shakes out the hardcover of his textbook. Richie purses his lips and stays silent, pulling the damp flannel back over his body. It still felt a bit off, hearing all these people actively concerned about the shit Richie needs to be concerned about. Friends, basically. He's had em, friends that care, but never this many (no offence Stan and Bev). It's... a bit foreign to be hearing it all the time.

Another thing, he nearly forgot he had a performance again up until just now when Ben brought it up again. What the hell is going on?! According to past trials (aka yesterday), things like this don't seem to affect Richie's performance on stage, but it can't possibly be a good thing either.

"Alright, I'm off" Ben says, snapping Richie out of his thoughts.

Richie, though slightly confused, nods and realizes they're at the front of their two classes. He waves him goodbye awkwardly, and shuffles into his classroom silently.

In this class, he's never exactly all too loud, considering the teacher is a hard ass and wouldn't waste a second on giving Richie detention for any reason at all. And also because it's right before lunch, and he'd rather die that get held back in class for some stupid reason such as his mouth.

He reservedly settles into his desk at the back of the class, and falls deep into thought once again. Snippets of the show flash into his mind momentarily, then, very expectedly, Eddie.

What more is there to think about with this kid? Jesus Christ, Richie can't possibly be that hooked, can he? He knew Eddie had the power to do things to him. Keep him unfocused in every subject imaginable, make him lose his mind in ways that weren't always bad, and fuck if that was the worst thing to love in this situation. He was the worst thing to love in this situation.

Someone from the desk in front of Richie snapped their fingers behind their chair, catching his attention immediately. Which seemed to be the goal, because as the teacher at the front continued his lesson, they turned around and revealed themselves to be a girl. The sweet pixie cut sort of threw Richie off at first, and she had heavy punk makeup on her face. She gave Richie a heavy, serious look before turning away again.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows. Okaayy?

Then, after hearing continuous scribbling noises, her fishnet-gloved hand returned, only this time she held out a spiral journal for him to see.

JARED IS SICK AS SHIT, it read, in what looked satisfyingly accurate to what one would think is a punk girl's handwriting.

Richie froze, oh FUCK!

The girl dangled it around uselessly for a moment, Richie being too busy in his shocked state to realize she was trying to hand it to him. She shook it once more, and he blinked, catching it into his hands quickly.

She turned around once more as Richie scribbled an answer. Frantic, and nearly breaking the lead of his pencil in the process.

WTF, Richie wrote, not really thinking. HOW DO U KNOW??

He passed it back over to her, and buried his hands in his hair with a huff of frustration.

After a minute, she threw it back over, and he sank deeper into his chair as he read it.

DOESN'T MATTR, BUT U NEED TO BREAK THE NEWS TO UR BOY EDWARD. AND  FUCKING SOON.

My boy?? Richie thought helpessly. He hated how it sent a pang of raw thrill down his spine. Like a shot of dopamine, bottoms up!

He rolled his eyes at the messy letters, and passed the journal back to her with nothing left to say.

She looked over her shoulder, and mouthed a quick "Now!" before turning back around and shutting the journal with a smack.

Richie glanced around the room nervously, then spun in his chair to observe the view outside. It was blurry with all the rain pattering down on the windows, and the sky was gloomy as ever. He could barely make out the shape of the main school building in the distance, but he knew he had to get there somehow. He didn't even want to wait till this class was over.

This is bad. This is really, really bad. And the fact that Richie just got the news from some random girl in his 5th period does not mean anything good for what Eddie has in store. No, he can't hear the news like Richie did, struck with misery at the worst time possible. He'd break down at best, start hyperventilating or pace in the middle of the classroom. He needs to hear this from Richie. That's probably the best possible end result for them all.

Richie heard the sounds of quiet laughing coming from the far right of the classroom, and naively turned to check, only to feel an odd impact against his head.

He looked down and rolled his eyes when he realized it was a crumpled ball of paper, now having fallen to his own desk. He glanced over to find two boys, laughing uncontrollably and pretending to look the other way as he observed them with an annoyed, quirked eyebrow.

He unfurled the messy scrap of paper and grimaced at the pathetic handwriting. Chicken scratch.

thinkng about di*ck, wierdo?

Unfazed, Richie sat up slightly in his seat and, with a graceful hand, did a jerking off hand motion, faster, then faster, then as a finale, presented the two idiots with a triumphant middle finger.

Their smiles faded, and now with a disgusted grimace, they finally shifted their attention away.

Richie sighed in satisfaction, and with a devious smirk, remembered where he'd left off and began plotting his escape.

____

"You fucking asshole!" Eddie shouted as he was being lifted off the ground and thrown over Richie's shoulder in one smooth motion. Richie yelped as Eddie thrashed in his grip, but immediately threw a hand over the shorter boy's mouth and went straight for his destination in a panic.

This isn't technically kidnapping, right?

The halls were empty, and Richie had caught Eddie at just the right moment where he'd been returning from the bathroom. Richie, in his class merely a few short minutes ago, simply begged the teacher to go to the bathroom, then whoops! He forgot to take the hall pass! And he took his backpack with him. Richie wouldn't be returning to that class today, that's for sure.

Hurriedly glancing every which way, Richie sped to the always-empty hall, and tumbled through the janitor's closet door unsteadily. He may be able to withstand Eddie's weight (which let's be honest, is practically nothing), but he's still a weakling with stick arms.

He dropped Eddie down almost immediately, groaning with the soreness in his shoulder.

"What! The! FUCK?!" Eddie finally shouted through heaving pants after catching his breath, already having tired himself out with all the muffled yells and kicking.

Richie held out his hands to Eddie defensively, as though Eddie were seconds from pouncing at him in attack. "It's not what you think!" he says quickly, easily knowing the setting right now wasn't the best of places to be in at all for the two of them, considering the history they've had with it.

With almost a huff of a laugh, Richie remembers the first time they ended up here, in this exact position with Richie hauling Eddie into this closet and Eddie cursing him out with all of his breath.

"Really? Because to me it looks like I'm supposed to be in class, and instead you just fucking stole me!" Eddie exclaims, his arms flailing about frantically.

Well that's exactly what it is, Richie thinks, stumped.

"Okay, I'm sorry, but I just wanted to let you know -in a controlled environment- that... that you..." Richie trailed off, fiddling with his fingers anxiously and struggling to get the words out. Now that the time's here, Richie realizes there's no way any outcome of this situation could end up very good.

"Just- Promise you won't kill anyone!" Richie pleads. Eddie gives him a withering look, spit it out! Richie groans, rubbing a palm over his face.

"You're playing Romeo tonight!" Richie blurts, eyes clenched closed.

When, after an odd minute, he gets no response, Richie peeks an eye open curiously. Eddie is still looking at him, frozen completely in his previous position.

His eyes flutter open and closed momentarily, as though he might be feeling lightheaded. One foot stumbled backwards, and in a split second, Eddie was falling sideways and Richie was catching him by the arms.

"Oh my fucking-" Richie cursed as he clumsily caught Eddie and tumbled to the floor with him in his grasp.

Richie awkwardly stared at Eddie's unconcious, limp body on the floor, his upper half safely laid on Richie's criss-crossed legs. Did Eddie just fucking faint?!

"Kid, I'm gonna need you to wake up, please" Richie says softly, poking at Eddie's cheek uselessly. He didn't budge.

Richie huffed in defeat, panic slowly seeping out of him as he idly listens to the thrum of thunder from outside.

How long do these fainting situations usually last for? Is he going to be okay, medically speaking? Richie can't decide if this is the better or worse situation, compared to Eddie hyperventilating into his inhaler and running a marathon around the closet.

After a few minutes, Richie sighs. This is my life now, he thinks blankly, pursing his lips. This is what my life has come to with the boy unconscious on top of me.

He let's his fingers graze over the soft brown hair atop his head, watches the way the delicate lashes fan over his cheeks almost peacefully, and thinks maybe that fact isn't so bad after all.

"You are so dramatic, Edward Kaspbrak"

___

"You WHAT?!" Stan shouts, capturing the attention of nearly everyone in the fucking cafeteria, though him and Richie are currently in a very private conversation in the corner of the room.

The Losers are peering over at them curiously from their lunch table further away, and Stan's face pales immediately at Richie's words.

"I didn't fucking mean to, okay?! He just sort of... fell." Richie explained, fiddling with his fingers in distress. "And now I need your help!" he begged.

He wasn't sure who else he could trust with this sort of thing. The only person he knew that was educated on what to do in this sort of emergency was unconscious on the floor of the janitor's closet.

He considered calling Mike over, because well, it's Mike, but worried that he might just call a nurse and attract more attention than this should be receiving at all. He also considered Beverly, but knew she'd probably just laugh her ass off and fail to be helpful.

Stan is the most resourceful of the Losers, and also arguably the most cold-hearted, so Richie assumed he wouldn't panic the way others would.

Well that was a horrible assumption.

"So let me get this straight. You told Eddie that he's going to be in the show tonight, he fucking fainted, and then you left him there!?" Stan exclaimed with wide eyes.

"To get you! Yes!" Richie responded, rocking on his toes impatiently. "I'd prefer we get back to him before he wakes up and freaks out again" he says, and with a single are you fucking kidding glare from Stan, they storm out of the cafeteria without another word.

"He's over here, in the janitor's closet" Richie says as they speed through the empty halls.

"Why??" Stan asks incredulously.

"I- It's a long story" Richie shakes his head as they approach the correct hall. It really isn't that long of a story, I kidnapped him, as one does.

"Okay, if he wakes up, just stay out of the way and let him deal with it on his own this time" Stan tells Richie with a deadpan look on his face, a firm grasp already on the door handle.

Richie nods, and they both practically hold their breath in preparation for what's about to come, before Stan swings the door open.

The cold, empty gust of wind that billows back at them from the room is enough to shatter the hope in their eyes. But what's worse is the vacant spot on the tiles that once had a fucking unconscious Eddie Kaspbrak on them, and now does not.

Thunder cracks loud upon the sky outside, eerie and terrifying. Richie releases his held breath, and knows that figuratively and literally, all hell has already broken loose.

___

"Where the fuck could he be?!" Stan hollers from across the hall, his voice cracking as it echos throughout the room to reach Richie.

Peeking their head into every room along the way, Richie and Stan slowly make their way back to each other, ending in the middle.

"That's all the rooms in the building," Stan huffs, leaning onto a water fountain in exasperation.

"Anywhere else we can check around here?" Richie asks helplessly, still whirling his head around in every direction, hoping for a familiar face to appear.

"No, Rich. Janitor's closet is a no. And cafeteria is... unlikely?" Stan responded with a shrug.

Richie, without a beat, shook his head. "What about the other buildings? Or- Or we could just track his next class. Eddie wouldn't skip, right?"

The bell sounded out, blaring loud around them. Immediately, students poured in, headed to the last two classes of the day.

Richie took notice of the jaded, guilty expression Stan now wore.

"I'm sorry, man. But Mrs. Smith is doing a review for tomorrow's test, I can't miss it" he explains remorsefully, already treading backwards and away from the water fountain and Richie.

"If you're worried about him showing up for R&J, don't be" he said, gesturing with finger guns as he fell away. "He'll be there, seriously! I can literally bet good money on it!" he says the last part jokingly, but it merely causes Richie's stomach to sink even more.

He can't go to his next class, he can't do that, knowing that Eddie is on the loose with low blood pressure, thinking that Richie abandoned him and left him for dead in the fucking supply closet.

The halls are nearly empty by the time Richie makes his decision.

"Fuck it" he says out loud. Richie glances left and right, scanning for teachers, before hopping back into action and making his way through the halls.

He reenacts the way hall monitors go about their way around here, his chin held high and pretending to know exactly what he's doing. He reaches the double doors to the auditorium, ignoring the tons of flyers clung to the fronts, and pushes them open.

When he steps in, it's like hopping from one world to another.

The school was rowdy, crowded, worrisome and chaotic. Going into the auditorium was like transitioning into a silent palace of false tranquility. Eerie. Richie could still hear the soft, faint pattering of rain coming down on the roof quietly. Tranquil.

Don't get him wrong, he still felt jittery with the need to find Eddie quickly, and in fact, he may have just carried the chaotic energy of today into the auditorium with him. The scene shifted beneath him, and he was on battleground now. What made him feel this way? He couldn't exactly put his finger on it.

Richie quickly remembered his original task, and set off to sweep his gaze through the auditorium carefully. Eddie could be anywhere. Perhaps even hiding behind a chair, Richie knew him well enough to see that happening.

He hopped up on the stage, and stretched his back idly, peeking into the wings of the stage slightly. All seems normal to him.

He wanders backstage, and mentally checks off the auditorium from 'where to find Eddie list'. This is officially a nightmare.

Richie had just about been done looking backstage, already accepting that Eddie was gone, when a bright lamplight caught his eye.

His confusion only lasted a second, until he realized it was just the lamp that always stays on. The one by the piano.

Richie's feet carried him to the bench as though on instinct, and he sat down, his posture immediately slumping and mirroring exactly how he felt. Stupid, exhausted, hopeless.

His hand rose to hover over the keys, nimble fingers brushing over each one lightly.

And I think it's gonna be a long long time

He let himself press the keys to the simple chorus tune, only the first line, since he didn't know the rest. Not as well as Eddie did, at least.

Richie bit his lip. Eddie is definitely mad as hell at him. So mad, that maybe he won't show up! Maybe they're going to have to cancel the show entirely, or worse; have an extra try and play Romeo. Once again. Nightmare.

His hand fell back to his side, and for a moment he let himself remember what it was like back then. When they hadn't decided on this irrational way of life, hidden from the world together. And hidden from each other, alone.

Richie remembers when they analyzed Romeo and Juliet in English class last year. It seems so funny to him now, Eddie and him joked about their sob story upbringing with their friends hating each other and all, but it seems like too much of a coincidence. They made all the stupid decisions, the infatuation, the yearning and the not thinking about consequences. It weirdly seems to correlate. Maybe their story was meant to be a tragedy after all.

"What are you doing here?" a snarky voice spoke from behind him, startling Richie in his spot in front of the piano.

He sighed heavily at the familiar voice. Can he catch a fucking break today?

"I could ask you the same thing" he says, spinning to face Myra where she stands near the wings.

She rolls her eyes, and Richie practically gets queasy with the pure hatred he feels for her.

"I asked first," she snaps back easily.

"Jesus Christ, not everything is a fucking competition" Richie huffs out in a jeering snarl, though he's well aware of how hypocritical that sentence is in the sense that it's being said by him to Myra, two of the most competitive people to one another for absolutely no reason.

"And? Last I heard, you have limited skips per class, idiot" she said, an eyebrow raised.

Richie scoffed, once again already just about had it with this girl immediately. She has that effect on him, no doubt. Richie was about to open his mouth then, tell her off or something, anything to get her to leave or to excuse himself, but then he remembered what Eddie said. She's not all that bad.

Partly deciding 'fuck it', and the other part of him being Eddie talking, he drops his guard and goes for it.

"Eddie told me about everything," is what he says first, and with the way she pauses and hesitantly steps closer, out of the shadows, he's glad he did.

"About how you're nice to him and all" he says, waving his hand around in a withering gesture.

"And... I dunno, I just want to know why" Richie says, looking at her questioningly and willing his simmering hatred away for a moment. Hopefully this'll be good.

Myra doesn't say anything for a while, in fact, she simply walks closer and leans herself up on a wall for a minute or so, thinking. But Richie stays patient.

"Were you not just trying to fuck with me by getting to him or what?" Richie wonders aloud, and finally she shakes her head softly.

"He's a great kid, Richie, he really is" Myra says, and it truly has Richie taken aback for a second. She doesn't sound snarky or full of venom. He can tell she's speaking the truth, and who knows, he might just be getting somewhere.

"Do you like him?" The question had been festering within Richie for a while, and it just sort of blurted out of his system accidentally. He wanted to know, badly.

Myra shook her head immediately, which just had Richie really sick by then. If she had been leading him on at first, it was all because of Richie and their feud, and Eddie would be subject to torment because of their stupidity.

"And at first, of course I was trying to fuck with you, I hate you" she says it so nonchalantly, with a shrug that almost makes Richie laugh. "But, he's sweet and- and innocent, and I hated you even more for it, because... how could he see good in you? You're a fucking menace! How could he possibly like Richie Tozier" she went on in the same tone that Richie hadn't really heard from her ever before. Reflective, genuine. He was too busy listening to be offended. This is Myra he's talking to, I guess he can let it slide for now.

What she says begins to make a fuck ton more sense now. Richie had been asking himself the exact same question just yesterday. How could Eddie actually believe Myra has a good side? She's crazy!

But -and Richie should know this by now- Eddie is different. He brings people together. He can make miracles happen, flowers bloom with the touch of his fingertips. What's a little bit of Richie and Myra for him?

"But he's like a little bunny. I see why you have a thing for him now" she says.

Richie chokes on his spit for a moment, trying not to make it seem like as big of a deal as he's making it right now.

"Pfft, what- what um... what are you talking about? I don't have an anything for him" Richie says with a laugh, shrugging as though the gesture will save him from this disaster. Does everyone know? Or is he just an idiot. Probably both.

For a second, Richie was petrified with fear that Myra might gag in disgust, run away quickly while she still can. She may as well be one of those people who hate homosexuals, it's likely in this conservative piece of shit town. But when he realizes she was still standing there, smirking like an idiot, it drove relief right into him once again.

Myra giggles slightly. Richie could never imagine himself enjoying that sound ever in his life until now, suddenly all natural and... decent.

Then he sighs, almost in relief. "Is it that obvious?" He knew he was lovesick, staring at Eddie in class 24/7 and all, but he'd hoped it wasn't all too noticeable on the outside. Apparently, it was.

"Mm, maybe? Yeah, definitely. But it's okay" she says with a laugh, nodding. "He's good. He's good for you."

"Oh shut up, he's too good for me" Richie remarks with a pathetic laugh, smiling sadly as he traces circles into the wood of the bench.

Myra notices his shift in mood, how his shoulders slump and how he drifts off in thought quietly. She's meeting a whole new side of Richie today. One that isn't obnoxious or competitive or passive aggressive. One that she doesn't want to hurt or piss off.

"What, did he dump you?" she asks genuinely, tilting her head with the question, willing Richie's head to lift encouragingly.

He shakes his head. "We were never really a thing, but... but I thought it was mutual for a while" he says, shrugging.

This is the moment when he realizes that he's spilling his guts to his long-time rival, the person he's hated since he set foot in this stupid high school. The fuck is going on??

Myra stays quiet for a second, nodding in understanding.

"He talked about you a lot," she says finally. Richie looks up at her, quite surprised, and she smirks at the way his posture quirks up suddenly.

"It annoyed me to no fucking end, but yeah, he'd go on and on about oh Richie did really good at teaching me this stuff and oh, Richie knows how to make food, did you know that? He liked you, it was easy to tell of that."

Richie smiles to himself softly, suddenly all giddy inside with the idea of it.

No, Eddie didn't actually talk about Richie because he liked talking about him, and Richie knows that all too well. Truthfully, (and Richie is glad he realized so quickly) Eddie had blabbed about Richie constantly at the girl's table because he knew that it would mess with Myra, and he knew Richie wanted to mess with Myra. Eddie was an angel on earth, and he didn't even bother letting Richie realize it.

"It's not too late," Myra speaks into the silence of the room idly. She glances toward Richie once, a knowing look on her face, and Richie purses his lips.

It seems ridiculous. Never in a million years would Richie believe you if you told him a day ago that he'd be in this situation. But he is. And frankly, he's okay with it all of a sudden.

Abruptly, after a minute of fidgeting, he rises from the bench and nods. "Maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks in confusion, but Richie is already bounding off the stage and making his way toward the exit.

"Uhm, it'll come around sooner or later" he shouts back, shrugging. He hears Myra scoff, but regrets nothing. He couldn't possibly tell her that Eddie is technically missing. Then it'll spread like wildfire, knowing Myra and her sources of gossip all over the school.

He pushes the doors to the auditorium, and readjusts to the light of the real world. It's still raining, perhaps even harder now, but he's still on a mission. An important mission. Find Eddie, perferrably don't die trying.

OKAYYY so i originally wanted to have the last chapter be one big one, but i cut for time and so y'all get a new update yayyy! so ya ur seeing part one of the end :D hence why the ending of this is so weird lmfao. ur literally in the middle of a building climax sorry if it doesn't feel that way i suck at writing. anyways GET READY??! i'm excited. - author