(It didn't make too much sense to Eddie either, but it's the only thing he's got. What else would explain it?)

There's a lot of things that seem impossible but aren't. (He says this with quiet thoughtfulness, and with a pointed look at Richie. The last thing he felt like talking about was It, but It had broken down a lot of walls in terms of what could or couldn't be. Eddie worries at his mouth, watching Richie intently. He might not be a mind-reader, but he knew his best friend better than anyone.)

What would that mean? (It's a real gentle push, just because maybe if Richie fessed up, Eddie could help in some way.

He moves close to Richie until his knees are digging lightly into Richie's thigh.)

I don't either. (He won't lie about that. It was confusing and it was scary as hell, but something about it also seemed to be bothering Richie more than it did Eddie, which meant Eddie's fear was locked up for the time being. His friend was a hell of a lot more important to Eddie than Eddie himself feeling fear for the fifteenth hundred time. He grabs Richie's hand, the hand that he'd grabbed when they had made their promise months ago (months ago for Eddie).)

I promise I'll be here. (It's ...a weak thing, a promise without blood, but Eddie hopes the message is translated all the same. That he promises he would stick around no matter what version of Richie this actually was. He couldn't make a promise like 'it'll be okay' because he has no idea if it'll be okay. Just like the Losers hadn't made a promise that it'll be okay. They did what they knew they could do. For this? Eddie could be here for Richie. A given, maybe, but fully worth solidifying.)