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He's not sure whether or not they're just dreams that his subconscious is feeding him to help him grieve and cope, or if they're actual visitation dreams. At the rate they occur though, he tosses it up to residual turtle magic. Maybe it's the best Maturin could've realistically given him after everything. Y'know, just a little parting gift after letting the love of his life die in his arms. Whatever it is, Richie's content. It could be worse. His panic attacks are kept at bay most days and he's able to stomach some food. In 99% of the dreams Richie's aware that he's dreaming. He knows Eddie's dead- hell, he even recounts it to him as if they could still avoid it. In the beginning Eddie was quick to reassure him that he's okay, and that he hopes he didn't scare Richie and the others too much. The dreams carry on for weeks. It's kind of like a never ending movie, although you do need to press pause every eight hours to avoid wasting away. The settings change gradually. They're in a hospital bed, they're in the quarry, they're back in Richie's childhood home with Maggie and Went on game night, Richie's calling to Eddie from the tree outside his window, they're at NYU in the dining hall, Eddie's sitting beside him at one of his first auditions. These are bittersweet, but the ones that really leave him aching for more are the ones that were in reach. They're on a plane together, they're sitting in his apartment in LA, Eddie's on the counter as Richie washes the dishes, they're running to escape the rain and giggling when Richie shakes his hair out like a dog to dry. In the back of his mind Richie knows that when he wakes Eddie will be gone again, but he uses every second of his dream as if Eddie's still there. Telling him how much he misses him, the things he remembers about him and the losers as kids, in between the 27 years, and the hours he spends apart from him in waking life. Dream Eddie soon becomes the only person Richie confides in.It's kind of like finding childhood photos or videos that you thought were lost to time. With the bonus being able to relive them. Richie's happy with it. A little too happy to the point where he'd rather be sleeping than awake. He wakes up in anticipation of going back to bed despite being well rested. He learns early on that “sleeping too hard” is a real thing and knocks back combos like they're candy to get through the day. He wakes up laughing, smiling, crying. Rushing for his dream journal to jot down everything Eddie told him so he doesn't forget. Sometimes he feels it all fading a little too fast and presses “record” on his phone. He photocopies the pages and backs up his recordings on numerous flash drives. He knows they're just dreams, visitation or not, but it just feels so real. Sometimes he googles the meaning of a phrase Eddie used, or the color of the Keds Eddie was wearing looking for anything Eds (or his subconscious mind) may be trying to tell him. In the beginning he excitedly tells the losers about the dreams, and they're happy to listen. Bill and Mike in particular find it cool, he even sees Bill sneak out his notebook. But as the weeks carry on Bev and Mike become worried about him. They get weird when he brings it up. He can see the pity in their eyes and words that they're holding back out of fear of upsetting him. But they wouldn't get it, he has Eddie back! Maybe if they had the dreams he did, they would understand. But then again, why would Eddie want to visit the people who left him behind? To avoid the awkward conversations, Richie stops telling them about the dreams completely. Even Ben who remained neutral about the situation and always asked what Eddie was up to in greeting. Bill continues to inquire about the dreams here and there, and it feels like scratching at a scab.Little do they know that Richie and Eddie are never apart for more than 12 hours. He feels like a kid again, things couldn't be more perfect. He's able to get through the day knowing he'll get to see Eddie again when he closes his eyes without fail. Sometimes he gets to hug him and hold his face in his hands. He even gets swatted and swore at when he pinches Eddie's cheek. It's like Eddie never left. He could die happy. Until it all goes to shit. Four months and three weeks in, the dreams start to come only every other day. It feels like withdrawals after having Eddie there to greet him every night for 133 days straight. When the dreams do manage to come, he wakes up pissed off and longing for more time as he feels himself fading out of his dream state. He'll lay stock still for hours hoping to fall right back into the dream he was ripped away from. He even debates putting a catheter in so he's not interrupted. He already sleeps with a Costco sized bottle of ibuprofen on his nightstand and chocolate Boost drinks in the drawer, why not go the extra mile to avoid almost pissing himself in his sleep too? False awakening dreams are a bitch. As far as he's concerned, it's self-care and the losers would be proud.The dreams start feeling more like a goodbye. Instead of reminiscing with Eddie in the visits he manages to receive, he becomes desperate. Practically begging Eddie to tell him something about his 27 years without him, what his favorite food is, what he did on his 21st birthday, did he ever own a cat, who was his favorite baseball team and did he ever get to attend a game. He pleads with Eddie to tell him what to do, and hands him a notebook to fill his life with before the dream ends so that he'll have a parting gift to hold close and maybe share with the losers. But that never happens, at least not in time. He wakes up crying, filled with dread as he realizes what he asked of him, a dream, was not realistic to carry over. The feeling of drifting out of sleep feels as painful as leaving Eddie down in the sewers. He looks into lucid dreaming. It can take months to perfect, but he's committed to trying so that Eddie's never alone again. Intentionally drifting into a dream is a little scary at first. He can feel his body go heavy and his mind start to slip. It feels like he's paralyzed sometimes and wonders if he accidentally brought on a bout of sleep paralysis. On bad days when his mind isn't clear and he feels a nightmare coming on, he'll attempt to will himself awake by fighting to open his eyes or get his arm to move before the dream can begin and completely trap him for its course. Surprisingly, cursing your brain out and attempting to scream helps too. The first time he successfully has a lucid dream they're sitting on a park bench feeding the ducks. He's so happy and doing everything in his power to keep Eddie laughing beside him. He wishes he could record his laughter and take it with him. Everything in life feels right again after weeks of not seeing him. At some point Eddie's laughing so hard that he's coughing and gasping for air, just like when they were kids. Richie tears his attention away from the pond with a smile so big he swears he'll wake up with sore cheeks. He's ready to drop his next line when he's met with the sight of Eddie slumped over and bleeding out. His left arm is long gone and in the mouth of a dog halfway down the field. It feels like forever before he's able to wake himself up from the dream. Instead of laughing, smiling or even crying, he wakes up gagging for the first time. He sleeps with a trash bag on the pillow beside him from then on. He lovingly calls it his Gromit Bag. More often than not, nightmares take over the majority of his attempts. He knows it's just a dream, he knows where he is and what he's doing but the more he tries to fight it, the scarier it gets. He keeps his eyes closed in the majority of these dreams, even with Eddie tugging on his sleeve begging for Richie to look at him or crawling into his lap. He knows it's not His Eddie, but a mishmash of the last time he saw him and flashes of the deadlights. In his weakest moments, kisses fill his mouth with blood and he wakes up gasping for air. He barely recognizes himself. Food feels like a chore and it leaves him dizzy. On his worst days his head feels full and there's an insistent ringing in his ears. He's able to map out more bones on himself than when he was twelve. The losers keep calling him to check in after seeing the newest round of paparazzi photos snapped outside his apartment. With the way his clothes fall off his frame, he could stand to donate his entire wardrobe and shop two sizes down. Maybe if he had the energy. Instead he stops going outside entirely. If no one sees him they can't worry, right? He sends the losers old selfies from when his cheeks weren't so deflated and his collarbones weren't poking out. He declines video calls, claiming that he's too busy working on a new set. Scheduled good morning and night texts, and old photos alone should keep them at bay. He spends 70% of his day sleeping, but he's more tired than ever. Which is a feat given the sleepless nights back in 89’. He's tired of trying to see Eddie and ending up in shitty situations again and again. So seven months in, he stops trying. He gets a prescription for sleeping pills and hopes maybe that will help, or at the very least he'll be too out of his mind to concoct his own nightmares. He ends up dreaming of Eddie a few times, but he can't recall the substance of the dreams anymore.Pushing the sleep aids to the back of his medicine cabinet, he turns to making himself stay up for 24 hours straight just to feel himself become exhausted. He kind of misses that high of pulling an all nighter and craving sleep as a result. The kind where you're falling over yourself and fading in and out standing up. The kind that makes you pass out behind the wheel. Maybe that kind of sleep will act as an open invitation for Eddie to come back and see him. Instead he gets a lot of dreams where he forgets that Eddie died. It feels like the reality of what happened was the bad dream, and now he's awake with a happy and healthy Eddie. This Eddie goes to physical therapy and has flushed cheeks, biting back smiles at Richie's ill timed jokes. Stan is there too sometimes, openly grinning while telling him that he's a little shit. There are some bad days though where he has numerous rounds of dreams where different outcomes play out. Ones where Eddie never left Derry until they were both ready and headed to college. Dreams where Richie is able to push Eddie out of the way in time, where he's able to successfully recruit Mike and Ben in helping him carry Eddie out of the sewers. Dreams where Eddie is right beside him in the quarry. They're watching Ben and Bev kiss with knowing smiles and their hands clasped under the water. Other dreams, some of his favorites, include him staying down there with Eddie close to his chest. He's telling him stories of their youth as rocks crumble down on top of them and he faintly recalls those Pompeii victims that were found huddled around each other cemented in ash. Instead of it feeling like a nightmare, it seems like a pretty good way to go and he wakes up with a faint smile for the alternate universe in which they got to live that fleeting reality together. It's bittersweet when the dreams consist of Eddie laying in the hospital bed watching him as he recounts what almost happened and how lucky they were to have made it out. They're all so real and vivid, yet nothing like the first four months of dreams he had. But he's content with them too, as long as he gets to see Eddie. It's a year later when his sleeping schedule evens out and his weight is back at a healthy number. If he had ended up donating his wardrobe, there would, without a doubt, be paparazzi photos of him at the nearest thrift store raiding the racks for as much as he could buy back. Accompanying them would be news articles titled:
"Tozier Hits the Goldmine! Pictured here, Trashmouth finds a mound of tacky clothes just in his style at local thrift store."
He'd get a kick out of sending it to the group chat.It doesn't happen overnight, but he's feeling better all around. He takes up walks again, and for the first couple of weeks he video calls the losers every time he sees a dog outside. His favorite was seeing a cat on a pink leash and harness. It made him think of Stan and how he'd call to tell him that there's a predator on the prowl out for his great tits. He still wakes up calling out to Eddie sometimes, but more often than not he wakes up laughing.