Chapter Text
So that was it. He was dead. He was really dead.
Not only had he died, but he sacrificed himself for his fair maiden.
Rich was sitting on the floor of the standpipe, his back against the wall, his arms around his knees as he watched his friends talk about him.
He was empty.
Was it the right thing to have done? Of course it was. He was not even doubting it.
But when he was watching her, her face, right now, he wished he could be here, holding her.
“I'm still here…” He mumbled, more to himself than to the others.
It was weird, because he had always been taught that when you die, you go to paradise, or hell… But this. He never expected this. Being stuck here? Watching the people he loved mourning his death? That was more painful than anything he could've imagine hell to be. That must be some sort of a “bridge”, a purgatory that he needed to find the exit to. At least he hoped it was. Maybe one day he'll leave.
Maybe.
“No one who dies in Derry ever really dies.”
When he looked up again, they were no longer talking about him. They were all looking over the standpipe, fog filling the city menacingly. They were talking about It. Of course, how could he have forgotten? This fart face was still out there. He still couldn’t hear them clearly. He didn't know why everything looked so clear, just like it looked when he was still alive, but the sounds, the voices, were so hard to understand.
He blinked. They were somewhere else.
Rich looked around, confused. Now they were near the school, fog surrounding them. Okay so… time was also weird when you were dead? He got up.
They were planning something. Something they talked about with others. Something about a…dagger?
He didn't get all of what they were saying, but there was a voice he heard very clearly.
“I'm going to kill that fucking clown.”
She said with hatred.
And Rich smiled. He loved her so much.
He watched them leave. There was no point in staying with them for now. He needed to take care of another thing.
He sighed, closed his eyes and thought about his parents.
There he was. There they were, on the couch, holding each other like their life depended on it. He wondered how long they had been like that, clinging onto one another. There was silence. A peaceful silence that was filled with all the unsaid feelings, all the pain. Rich walked behind them, carefully putting his hands on their shoulders.
“I'm here.” He whispered.
And his mom started sobbing.
It was like he just took a punch in the heart. He felt guilty. Guilty for leaving them. Guilty for having been in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
He could have been a better son, a good son. A son that wasn’t leaving to go on adventures and risking his life at 12 years old to try and kill a supernatural clown. A son that was here for his parents.
Instead, he wasn’t there. And they were alone.
It was too painful.
His breath shaking, he stepped back and thought about the Standpipe.
It was empty.
He looked over the town, the fog now covering all of it, like a huge cloud in which he could only make out the tips of the highest buildings and the church. He frowned. What could he possibly do? Why was he still here? It stung. Being here, unable to do anything. Helpless.
The air was heavy and the wind was strong. Yet he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything. And his sadness, his guilt slowly turned into frustration and anger.
He held his face in his hands, leaning on the balcony as he felt his hands getting wet. Not with rain, but with tears.
He shivered.
There were so many things he wanted to say to them. So many things he wanted to do. He wanted to live.
But at least, he told himself,
At least she got to live for him.
He didn't die for nothing. He sacrificed himself. He was a knight, just for a moment. A brave knight, and he protected a fair maiden. His fair maiden.
He sniffed, then wiped his face, looking back at the horizon with determination.
Maybe he could do something.
He closed his eyes, and thought about Marge.
It seemed like time had passed again, because it was darker.
Gray and heavy fog was surrounding him for miles and he couldn’t see anything. The ground was dirt and all he could recognize was small lights reflecting far in the fog. He took a few steps forward. It was empty. A large, dead, wasteland.
Then he heard screams. Long, effortful screams he recognized immediately. He ran.
And that's when he saw him, on the floor. That motherfucker. The clown was crawling like some sort of poor, injured animal. Rich wanted to crush him. They all did. But he knew he couldn’t. He needed to keep going.
He turned his head. There they were. Ronnie, Lilly, Will and…Margie. All in front a tree, groaning as they were trying to fight the dagger's force and stab it into the ground.
He ran. He ran like he never did before. He ran past It, giving it a middle finger and smirking.
Fuck. you.
He ran to his friend. Giving them his strength to push the dagger into the ground. He wasn’t sure it actually helped. But at least he tried. And that didn’t matter anymore. Because he was here, with them.
In a last grand effort, The dagger made contact with the dirt in the tree, shining a powerful light around them. The screams of the creatures behind them echoed through the empty land, reaching the other side where screams of joys could be heard.
They did it.
They really did it.
They killed that motherfucker.
Blink.
Black.
Rich was in a dark space. A large dark empty space. He moved his left foot and felt water underneath him. He took a few steps. The sound of his feet touching the water echoing endlessly in the infinite space made his head hurt. It seemed like the water was only a few centimeters deep, and everything else was black. It was like he was in some sort of… a mind palace?
A very, very sad, cold, and empty mind palace.
Was that it?
Had he done what he was supposed to, in order to move on?
Would he go to paradise now? Or spend the rest of his eternity in here, all alone?
Did he deserve it?
“No.” the deep voice made Rich jump. And the intensity of it made the whole place shake under his feet.
He fell on his knees and looked up.
“Holy shit.”
Above him was floating a monumental turtle, bigger than the sky itself, than any galaxies. Yet, somehow, he could also see it whole, floating in the empty space. A big eye was staring at him. And Rich felt dizzy.
“Ricardo Santos. Hello.” Its voice sounded like mountains moving, and rocks shifting, but Rich could feel a wiseness, and a sweetness deep inside it.
The turtle shifted slightly, sounds of water echoing once again into Rich's brain.
-“Hum…Hi?” He hesitated.
“My Name Is Maturin. I'm Sure You Must Have A Lot Of Questions.”
Rich's voice cracked -"Hum... Yes, what the f-erm what's happening? Why am I here?”
The god made a sound that Rich guessed to be a laugh, that actually sounded more like a literal avalanche.
“I Can't Really Tell You, You Will Know. It Won’t Matter Soon.
You Aren't Supposed To Stay Here. However, I'm Afraid You'll Have To Go Back For Now.” He said, slowly.
-”w- what? Why?”
“Someone Needs You.”
Rich opened his mouth again,
But just like that,
He was gone.
He felt himself falling into the floor, holding his breath as water filled his lungs. Did he really need to hold his breath though? All of this felt so… real.
It was still black. He could close his eyes, it was all the same.
He didn't know for how long he fell. It felt like too long. Way too long.
Suddenly, something grabbed him, and he got sucked into the world again.
Blink.
White.
He felt the ground, he felt grass.
His eyes needed time to get used to the light, but pretty soon he saw clouds.
He saw blue, and it was like it was the first time he saw colors again. Everything was so…beautiful.
He sat down and looked around him.
His eyes widened as he watched before his eyes a small coffin being slowly lowered into a hole.
He jumped on his feet, approaching the scene.
Everyone was here.
His friends, his parents, even long lost cousins he hadn’t seen in years…
Watching this felt wrong. Like he wasn’t supposed to see all of this. Which was kind of stupid since he was the one in the coffin.
He was the one for whom Margie was making a speech.
He was the one for whom everyone was crying.
Yet it felt wrong. Intimate. Like he shouldn't be here.
He moved behind his friends, holding them.
He wanted to cry and smile, laugh at the same time. The idea that he was attending his own funeral felt like a joke.
He couldn’t believe it was really happening. His friends were crying under his grip, and he put his head against Will's shoulder in comfort.
Then, he felt something. A look, like someone was staring at him.
He turned around, that's when he saw him, watching him. Halloran, that man. He was looking right at him, he was sure of it.
Halloran smiled at him, and Rich almost jumped. Oh, so this was real.
And despite everything, Rich smiled back.
Someone could see him.