Chapter Text
Richie drank the entire bottle of alcohol. It was too long after Eddie’s death. His voice was faint from his memory, but Richie could remember the blood. He always remembered, no matter how hard he tried to go to therapy. They wouldn’t understand. Richie felt sick to his stomach, sobbing as he finished the drink. Eddie would tell him this wasn’t healthy and ways to cope, but Eddie was dead.
His reputation was tainted. Though some still supported him, a lot didn’t. Richie closed his eyes as he felt himself drift off to sleep, wondering if anyone would love him again. Probably not, though. Who would love a Trashmouth.
***
You could imagine his confusion when he woke up in a different body. Memories flushed through his brain, and he was incredibly confused. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked similar and yet so different. No glasses, no visible beard, but curly hair. He held out his hands looking pale. Boris Pavlikovsky. How could he say that name right? “Vhat the fuck?” He said, covering his mouth. [Boris], no… [Boris]. He could barely remember his old name! Richie. Richie felt shocked at his newfound voice. And remembered another boy. Theo. Theo was married off to someone else just like Eddie.
Richie stared at the mirror. Was he truly doomed in every universe? But he held onto his phone, calling Theo. He remembers it’s a year after he last saw him. Was it a year? Richie can’t recall anymore. Does he call himself Richie or Boris? “Hello?” Theo asked.
Richie sighed, the taste of dust in his mouth, “Potter?” He didn’t actually expect Theo to call. He basically abandoned him.
“Yes? Why did you call after so long?”
[Boris’] mouth went dry. He felt like he was cheating on Eddie, who he never was with to begin with. “I-you won’t believe me…” He laughed.
Theo sighed, “Just tell me. I can’t believe you’re calling me after so long…”
“I’m in a different body, Potter! Ha! I- I can’t believe I’m saying this.” [Boris] said. Theo paused on the phone, and he heard the sound of breathing.
“What?” Theo whispered.
[Boris] puffed a breath of air, and unconsciously played with a cigarette in his pocket. “I am in a different universe. I was in Derry, Indiana, you know?”
“Is this some joke?” Theo giggled, “Did you just read Stephen King?”
“What?”
“The person who made IT, the book?”
“No..! I- who would make that a book? I lived through it in my past life, Potter!”
“Boris, c’mon…”
“I was Richie! I just came in this fucking body! I don’t even know anything about this! What can I do to prove that?”
“Are you high?”
“Why the fuck would I get high? I’d rather drink to be honest…” [Boris] said. He tapped his fingers on the table. Boris’ memories, Richie realized, felt distant. Like this universe knew he wasn’t the real Boris. He wondered what was happening to his own body…
“Holy shit.. you are definitely not Boris….” Theo laughed, “Look, I don’t know how you came out of your book world— but why are you even contacting me? Why not Hobie or something…”
Richie blinked, gosh, his vision was getting blurry. Did he need glasses in this body? He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Well I can barely remember anything! It’s all blurry… you were my first instinct.”
“Fuck… What do I even call you? Richie? Boris?” Theo exclaimed. “The first time I hear from you again you… you’re not you.”
“Look, man, I’m fucking sorry. But what do I do? Can you fly out here?” Richie whined, memories fleeting of Eddie.
***
Boris woke up to a weird pain in his legs. And arms. And back. Just about everywhere. He stretched out his hands, looking not as pale as normal. Ha, probably the lighting. Walking to the mirror, his legs felt terrible. Looking at himself in the mirror, he looked… different. He didn’t look like Boris. He looked like… Mike? Who was this Mike? And as he stared at himself, memories flushed through him. Will Byers. Huh…
He walked through the house with a cane, feeling quite embossed. Sitting at a writers desk, Boris frowned. He rested his head against the table and groaned in pain. Will. Will. Will. Those words repeated in his mind, like he was a god. Boris called this mystery man on a landline, frowning. “W-Wv..-will?” Boris whispered, for some reason, his accent slipping in. He didn’t know how to talk without it.
“Mike?” Will asked, his voice sweet like butter. “What’s up? And do you have an accent? Is it a DnD thing?”
“Sorry.. ah.. can you come… over?” Boris asked, his voice going to a more American accent. His joints ached, perhaps that would be a valid excuse. “Uh… everywhere hurts. Hah!”
“I’m coming… you really should’ve accepted my proposal to be your roommate. You can barely walk anywhere..” Will said and hung up the phone. Boris held out his trembling hands and groaned. Chronic pain was a bitch, and he just crawled back to his bed to sleep.
***
Mike woke up instantly to the name of Eddie in his ears. The first thing he noticed was he didn’t feel in pain at all. His body was improving! Second thing was he was kind of hung over. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. Did he have a fucking beard? Mike ran to the mirror and stared. He was not Mike Wheeler. He was… Richie Tozier. That name rang a bell, but from what? Mike sat in the bed and felt the phone in his pocket buzz. Beverly. He picked up, “Hello?” Mike asked quietly.
“Hey, honey… are you doing okay? We know it’s the anniversary of Eddie’s death and all…” Beverly asked. Mike tuned out her words. Eddie… that name made his heart soar and fall all at the same time. Mike felt that before, but never with someone dead.
Mike sighed, “I…- I don’t know what you’re talking about- I’m not Richie! I’m Mike Wheeler. I’m in someone else’s body and you have to believe me!” He cracked his knuckles, feeling no pain. This was great!”
“What? Pennywise couldn’t have came back.. what is this?” Beverly asked softly. Mike felt tears well up in his eyes. He wished Will was here to help him sort this out.
“I don’t know… maybe I can call my past phone number.”
“It probably won’t even work if you’re in a different… god. I’ll try flying to where you are but no promises. Bye honey.” Beverly whispered and Mike signed. He rang his normal phone, and a weird accent responding.
“Hello?” Boris asked, groaning in pain. He wished he had a joint or something. This was the least tolerable thing he had felt in a long time.
Mike cursed, “You’re in my body! Get out of it!”
“Ha! You’re funny… your voice doesn’t sound like my body!”
“What? But I’m in… your body…? Are you not Richie Tozier?”
“Nyet! Boris Pavlikovsky. Your body is a bitch, Wheels…” Boris laughed. Mike frowned and tapped his fingers against the wall. “I did call your… boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend? What boyfriend?” Mike asked, thinking through all the possibilities. He wasn’t gay. But if he was gay, maybe it was for Will.
“Hah! He’s here… call you later.”