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Eddie was sleeping peacefully in his and Richie’s bed; it was four in the morning on a Tuesday, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary there. He shifted in his sleep, reaching out to where Richie normally slept on his side of the bed. Eddie grabbed what he thought was Richie, but in his sleeping state he didn’t realize it was just the blanket, that his husband wasn’t in bed at all. Truth be it that Richie had crawled out of bed about ten minutes ago, however, he had no idea what he was doing when he did that. He was sleep walking, something that he’s never done before in his life. 

The moment Richie managed to leave their bedroom he went right into the kitchen to grab the biggest knife that they had. Again, not having a clue what he was doing in his sleep walking state. He began wandering the house, opening and closing doors, holding the knife so tight that his knuckles began turning white. Richie’s chest was rising and falling heavily as he walking around the house, having a mini panic attack as he did, yet it wasn’t enough to snap him out of this. Richie was no stranger to anxiety, but he hasn’t had a panic attack since he booked his first major show with a large audience, even then he could work himself through it, but he couldn’t this time. 

Richie stumbled into the living room, still holding on the knife, but he fell to his knees on the carpeted floor, his head hung before letting out a scream. He tangled his fingers through his hair as he did, scared of what he was seeing only inside his mind. He thought he was back in that cave, seeing Eddie getting stabbed by... It again. Seeing his blood splattered all over him, covering his clothes and glasses, screaming for him to be let go. Everything he was seeing was exactly how the event actually played out, except being able to save Eddie he died in his arms. 

It was during Richie’s second scream that startled Eddie awake. His eyes were wide, sitting up in bed, looking down at the blanket he was holding that he originally thought was Richie. He swung his feet over the bed, running out of their room and into the living room where Richie was still on the floor. 

“Richie, hey!” Eddie called, going up to him, sitting down behind him as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. 

He could feel Richie tremble in his arms, soft sobs coming from the taller man. When Eddie noticed the knife that he was still holding, his eyes went wide, trying to pry it from his hand but Richie was holding onto it tight. 

“Let go of it,” Eddie told him in a calm voice, peeling his fingers off from the weapon one by one. 

Eddie...” Richie said through his sobs, trembling even more, his eyes shut tight. 

Eventually Eddie got the knife away from him, tossing it across the room just in case he would try going for it. 

“I’m right here, Rich. You gotta wake up.” He gently shook his shoulders, trying to snap him out of this. Eddie had no idea that Richie sleep walked. They’ve been together for years and not once did this happen. 

Richie’s eyes snapped opened, feeling Eddie behind him rubbing his arm. He looked around the dark room, not sure 100% what just happened. Reaching up he hooked a hand around Eddie’s arm to feel secured, to make sure he was grounded and this was real. 

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie couldn’t help but blurt out, moving around to sit in front of Richie who couldn’t see shit without his glasses. Richie was still breathing heavily, reaching out to grab his husbands face to make sure this was real. “Hey...” Eddie reached up, holding onto Richie’s arms, “it’s okay.” 

“Is this real?” 

“Y-yes. This is real.” Eddie leaned in, planting a kiss on Richie’s cheek. “You had a knife...”

Richie closed his eyes, only remember faintly what happened in his nightmare. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before opening his eyes again. “Dude, I can’t see shit. I need my glasses.” 

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he stood up, holding out his hands for Richie. “I’ll get them for you,” he said, pulling up the man to his feet. “Hold on.”

The taller man leaned against the side of the couch, his face in his hands as he was trying to focus on calming himself down. His throat felt like it was on fire, a ball of anxiety in his chest, more than anything he was feeling furious and wanted to smash something. He leaned over, turning on the side lamp to get some light in the room, to give himself some kind of grounding until Eddie came back. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, Richie kept telling himself over and over again, trying to drill it as fact into his brain. 

“Here you go,” Eddie said out of nowhere, causing Richie to jump, removing his face from his hands. He had a forced smile on his face as he took his glasses from him, putting them on his face. Eddie stood next to him, rubbing his back. Uncharacteristically, Richie didn’t say anything, not even a thank you which he always said to Eddie no matter what. “What’s going on?” Richie shook his head, rubbing his tired eyes. “C’mon, talk to me.” 

“Just... sleep walking.”

“Yeah, no shit. You don’t normally do that though...” Richie started bouncing his leg uncontrollably, his arms crossed over his chest. “Talk to me, man, I’m worried.” 

“I just... had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“That wasn’t just a bad dream. That was like... parasomnias.”

Richie looked up, a confused look on his face. If he ever wanted some random, absurd sounding diagnoses he could count on Eddie for that. 

“Like what?” 

“Nothing. Never mind.” 

“I’m... going back to bed,” Richie said making his way back to the bedroom. “Lets go.” 

Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rid all the frustration that was building up. He didn’t want to snap at Richie, knowing that what he went through was rough and mentally draining, but he knew it would help if he would just talk about it.  

“Why won’t you talk to me about this?!” Eddie finally blurted out, causing Richie to turn around to face him. “For fucks sake, Richie, you’re not doing well! Do you think I haven’t seen that?” 

Richie was trying to contain his anger, moving past Eddie who started following behind him with a good sized distance. Yeah, he understood exactly what happened. He had been sleep walking around the house carrying a knife. Of course he fuckin’ knew that. He knew he was screaming about... something... he couldn’t exactly remember now, so there was nothing he could tell Eddie. He had his fingers tangled in his hair again, letting out deep breaths to calm himself, but it wasn’t working. He just wanted to move on and forget that this ever happened, but, of course, Eddie wasn’t about to let that happen. 

Eddie was speaking again, but Richie had no idea what he was going on about since he was talking so fuckin’ fast. It was making his anxiety worse and just wanted everything to stop. 

“I thought something was after me, fuck off!” Richie finally yelled, facing Eddie who looked shocked at the sudden outburst. He opened his mouth to apologize for that, but Eddie was quicker. 

“I’m not gonna fuck off! I’m worried about you, Richie.” Eddie had said as calmly as he could, putting a hand on Richie’s shoulder who rolled it off instantly. 

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not!” Richie took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes in frustration as Eddie continued, “there’s nothing wrong with asking for help, Richie.”

“I don’t need help! I’m fine!” 

“Richie...” Eddie grabbed his hands before he was about to turn away from him, looking into his eyes, “there’s nothing wrong with asking for help,” he repeated, slightly swinging their arms. 

“I. Don’t. Need. Help,” Richie said slowly, avoiding eye contact with Eddie. 

“Yes you do. I have the number to the therapist that I saw,” he dropped Richie’s hands, moving to the end side table, opening the drawer and rummaging through it. 


“Therapy can seem intimidating, but I assure you it’s going to be okay.” 

Richie folded his arms across his chest, watching the shorter man look through the drawer like his life depended on it. He was starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t listening to him and that was making him angry. He’s Richie Trashmouth he didn’t need to see a therapist. He wasn’t fuckin’ crazy.

“So, you should call him in the morning,” Eddie said as he stood up, holding the old, bent up card. 

“I’m not gonna call,” Richie said calmly, pleading with Eddie with his eyes to just drop it but he didn’t get the hint. 


“I’m not crazy like you were, Eds! I’m not fucking calling!” Richie snapped, his face dropped immediately realizing what he just said. He looked up from the floor to Eddie, who, at first, didn’t have any type of emotion on his face, then it looked like he was about to cry or yell... Richie couldn’t tell. “Fuck... Eddie, I’m... I didn’t mean-”  

“I trusted you with that! I was-...” He paused, blinking away the hot tears that were building up in his eyes, “you know what, never mind.” 

“Eddie-” Richie pleaded, reaching out to hold him but he quickly took a step back.

“No. We’re done.” 

Richie’s eyes were wide as Eddie walked past him, he was pulling the ring off his finger. 

“Don’t... don’t do that, Eds, please...” Richie begged. Eddie turned around, holding the ring in his hand, Richie was scared, he was having a fucking panic attack. Why did I say that? Why did I say that? He kept repeating to himself. “I’m so sorr-” 

Eddie threw the ring at Richie, who managed to catch it after the impact before it could fall to the floor. “We’re fucking done, dick,” he snapped, turning back around to go into their room.

Richie was stunned, but snapped out of it, going into their room to see Eddie had his suitcase on the bed packing up some of his belongings. He thought he’d never see this day. God, he had forgotten Eddie for years, they met back up in Derry, got each other back, managed to marry him, just to lose him all over again. He looked at Eddie’s ring he had in one hand and the card he picked up from the floor in the other.

He knew there wasn’t anything he could say to make up for what he did, he regret what he did and had no idea why he would say that. 

Richie bit his lip, grabbing his phone from the nightstand, unlocking it and dialing the number that was on the card. He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer this time of night, but he wanted to at least leave a message so he could get an appointment set up ASAP. Eddie kept watching him through side glances while Richie was pacing back and forth. 

Of course, it went to voicemail. 

Richie was anxiously waiting for the beep so he could leave his message. 

“Uh, hi, my name is Richie Tozier... my... husband gave me your number. He thinks that I need to see someone to... to get help,” Richie was doing everything he could to not get choked up, “and I’m starting to agree with him. I’ve been having a rough few days and I think I need some help. I know its late, but if you could call me back in the morning or something that would be great. Thanks. Bye.” Richie hung up the phone, tossing it on the bed. He saw Eddie standing there, his arms folded over his chest. “I’m so sorry, Eds...” He moved around to the other side of the bed where the shorter man was now sitting. 

“You were a fuckin’ asshole,” Eddie said. 

“I was... I really was.” Richie dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around Eddie, burring his face in his stomach as he started to cry. 

“Are you actually going to go when they call you back?” Richie nodded, still sobbing. Eddie started stroking his hair, trying to get him to calm down. Yeah, he was still hurt, but at least Richie was trying. Besides, this was so out of character for him, whatever he went through must’ve been nerve wracking. “You’re gonna be okay, Richie.” 

“Don’t leave me, Eddie,” he choked through his sobs, “I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking, I-”

Richie was interrupted when Eddie lifted his face, leaning down to give Richie a kiss. He had a wave of comfort and reassurance wash over him as he reached up to grab Eddie’s face, bringing him down closer to him as they kissed. He couldn’t thank over and over how lucky he was that Eddie was willing to work through this. 

“I saw you fucking die,” Richie blurted out as soon as they pulled away from each other, looking up at Eddie. “I got scared...” 

“Hey...” Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand, putting it to his chest so he could feel his heart beating, “I’m right here. I’m alive. Everything’s okay.” 

“Eddie...” Richie shifted so he was standing on one knee, holding his ring. “We can work through this, right?”

“Of course we can.” 

Richie extended his other hand, offering for Eddie’s left, which he gave to Richie. He slipped the ring back onto his finger. 

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, you stupid fuckin’ Trashmouth.”