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batteryacidContent Warning: mentions of drug use (non-graphic), assisted suicide at the linked thread
[ follows a voluntary death with assistance by Lord Erik Osborne ]
The world fades out, dark and still. A breath out, and then --
A strange lurch forward, as if he's being grabbed, lifted -- and then Eddie is falling backward. Distant flecks of light become streaks of color in the dark, and the fall halts, sharp and sudden -- and he's flung to the side like a pinball whirling through a machine.
Eddie hasn't breathed in and he can't scream.
They can't quite forget and they can't quite remember...
But the grief remains, for grief is a matter of the heart and not the mind. Grief remains because love remains.
Bill has Audra -- she wasn't part of that first fight, but she looked into the deadlights same as Bill. They're marked the same with the same knowing. Mike has opportunity -- a clean slate, even later in life, is a wonderful thing. Finally freed from Derry, finally out of the darkness. Of course it's a bright future, even if he faces it alone for the moment. Ben and Beverly have each other -- their memories rearranged into a pretty patchwork, all to support the sweet tale of long separated childhood sweethearts finally finding one another nearly thirty years later.
And Richie... has two dead best friends that his heart can't forget and his head won't remember.
Richie also lives in Los Angeles and goes to parties with people rich and careless enough to supply any kind of vice.
He hadn't done much cocaine before, but something keeps pushing him. Every time he drops from the plateau, there's something that says no no no don't let it stop because what he feels off the drug is
nothing.
"You stupid asshole," Eddie wails. There's a heart pounding too fast in a chest somewhere and Eddie can feel it like his own, but Eddie's has stopped and it can't be his. "You're going to fucking kill yourself and you don't know why!"
Richie looks up, confusion in his eyes. Did he hear a voice?He knows that voice...
Everything goes black again. Eddie is in the void -- never left it -- and he's not moving. He thrashes in the dark, clawing, trying to lift that veil, trying to get to Richie so he'll be heard --
"Eddie."
Not Richie's voice. Eddie can't see anything, but he doesn't need his eyes to hear, to know. (Even if he only heard the grown-up version of this voice when It was mocking them...)
"Stan!" There is nothing to see but the dark. But Eddie reaches out with both hands, remembering how the Lucky Seven had sent their power to Mike so he could defend himself.
Energy is eternal.
Eddie sobs aloud when he feels Stan take his hands. There's nothing to see, but he knows it's Stan. Stan is here.
Do they speak? Remembering the moment later, Eddie isn't sure they did.
Eddie and Stan send Richie love and strength, the assurance that he has things to live for.
'I am where I need to be,' Eddie thinks, 'And so is Stan, and so are you. Live. If I have to live after everything, so do you!'
Energy is eternal, but it has a way of dissipating. The moment cannot last, and the three of them do separate again.
When Eddie next opens his eyes to the world, he's alone. Flat on his back in the dirt, looking up at a sky streaked with the last remnants of sunset. There's no pain in his scar, and while he is indeed still in his boxers, he's alive and breathing. Eddie sits up, giddy with relief that it worked.
And then a bird dive-bombs him.
"What the fuck!"
[ follows a voluntary death with assistance by Lord Erik Osborne ]
The world fades out, dark and still. A breath out, and then --
A strange lurch forward, as if he's being grabbed, lifted -- and then Eddie is falling backward. Distant flecks of light become streaks of color in the dark, and the fall halts, sharp and sudden -- and he's flung to the side like a pinball whirling through a machine.
Eddie hasn't breathed in and he can't scream.
They can't quite forget and they can't quite remember...
But the grief remains, for grief is a matter of the heart and not the mind. Grief remains because love remains.
Bill has Audra -- she wasn't part of that first fight, but she looked into the deadlights same as Bill. They're marked the same with the same knowing. Mike has opportunity -- a clean slate, even later in life, is a wonderful thing. Finally freed from Derry, finally out of the darkness. Of course it's a bright future, even if he faces it alone for the moment. Ben and Beverly have each other -- their memories rearranged into a pretty patchwork, all to support the sweet tale of long separated childhood sweethearts finally finding one another nearly thirty years later.
And Richie... has two dead best friends that his heart can't forget and his head won't remember.
Richie also lives in Los Angeles and goes to parties with people rich and careless enough to supply any kind of vice.
He hadn't done much cocaine before, but something keeps pushing him. Every time he drops from the plateau, there's something that says no no no don't let it stop because what he feels off the drug is
nothing.
"You stupid asshole," Eddie wails. There's a heart pounding too fast in a chest somewhere and Eddie can feel it like his own, but Eddie's has stopped and it can't be his. "You're going to fucking kill yourself and you don't know why!"
Richie looks up, confusion in his eyes. Did he hear a voice?
Everything goes black again. Eddie is in the void -- never left it -- and he's not moving. He thrashes in the dark, clawing, trying to lift that veil, trying to get to Richie so he'll be heard --
"Eddie."
Not Richie's voice. Eddie can't see anything, but he doesn't need his eyes to hear, to know. (Even if he only heard the grown-up version of this voice when It was mocking them...)
"Stan!" There is nothing to see but the dark. But Eddie reaches out with both hands, remembering how the Lucky Seven had sent their power to Mike so he could defend himself.
Energy is eternal.
Eddie sobs aloud when he feels Stan take his hands. There's nothing to see, but he knows it's Stan. Stan is here.
Do they speak? Remembering the moment later, Eddie isn't sure they did.
Eddie and Stan send Richie love and strength, the assurance that he has things to live for.
'I am where I need to be,' Eddie thinks, 'And so is Stan, and so are you. Live. If I have to live after everything, so do you!'
Energy is eternal, but it has a way of dissipating. The moment cannot last, and the three of them do separate again.
When Eddie next opens his eyes to the world, he's alone. Flat on his back in the dirt, looking up at a sky streaked with the last remnants of sunset. There's no pain in his scar, and while he is indeed still in his boxers, he's alive and breathing. Eddie sits up, giddy with relief that it worked.
And then a bird dive-bombs him.
"What the fuck!"
