(It isn't uncommon for Eddie to spike out of range in terms of his devotion to people. In some ways, seeing the proof of his devotion in his own future had made him a little worse in that regard. He knew, factually, he would die for others. He didn't say it so flippantly though.
Thing is...There were people worth dying for. There was a reason they agreed to go back to Derry if IT ever came back. It wasn't some sense of obligation like IT was their fault.
It was because the Losers' Club had an ingrained sense of justice- to themselves, but to where they had been failed as children. They did not want more people, more children to die in a town where no one gave a fuck about the children dying. It was not in Eddie's nature to abandon someone good. And Jake? Jake was very good. And apparently, Jake was a friend. That only made this more important.
For an instant, the effects of the juice almost neutralize against the intensity of the look Eddie is giving him. That dopey-drunk smile is gone, and his whole being seems steady, like he's cracking something open between them and staring at it under an impossibly all-seeing scope from two grey eyes that seemed, at that moment, truly absent of anything but that singular emotion. His mouth was fixed into a tight line, and there were many things he could say to that. "Don't, okay?" Eddie didn't know how to explain himself. Didn't know how to tell Jake that the six slashes across his palms represented his fierce dedication to such ideals. He did not take these things lightly.
Eddie says nothing, ultimately. It was too late. Eddie had already made his mind up. It is entirely possible Jake could feel this resolution- who knows? It certainly was coming off of Eddie in waves.
His hands relax in Jake's grip, and his expression finally softens as he clambers back down from wherever he had gone just now.)
(Is that right. I'll remember that.)
(Eddie exhales and removes his hands from Jake's, sweeping one hand through his hair. He slowly pulled himself back together, and then proceeded to reach out and grab Jake's arm.)
(Let's head back, okay? I think maybe that juice was booze.)
no subject
Thing is...There were people worth dying for. There was a reason they agreed to go back to Derry if IT ever came back. It wasn't some sense of obligation like IT was their fault.
It was because the Losers' Club had an ingrained sense of justice- to themselves, but to where they had been failed as children. They did not want more people, more children to die in a town where no one gave a fuck about the children dying. It was not in Eddie's nature to abandon someone good. And Jake? Jake was very good. And apparently, Jake was a friend. That only made this more important.
For an instant, the effects of the juice almost neutralize against the intensity of the look Eddie is giving him. That dopey-drunk smile is gone, and his whole being seems steady, like he's cracking something open between them and staring at it under an impossibly all-seeing scope from two grey eyes that seemed, at that moment, truly absent of anything but that singular emotion. His mouth was fixed into a tight line, and there were many things he could say to that. "Don't, okay?" Eddie didn't know how to explain himself. Didn't know how to tell Jake that the six slashes across his palms represented his fierce dedication to such ideals. He did not take these things lightly.
Eddie says nothing, ultimately. It was too late. Eddie had already made his mind up. It is entirely possible Jake could feel this resolution- who knows? It certainly was coming off of Eddie in waves.
His hands relax in Jake's grip, and his expression finally softens as he clambers back down from wherever he had gone just now.)
(Is that right. I'll remember that.)
(Eddie exhales and removes his hands from Jake's, sweeping one hand through his hair. He slowly pulled himself back together, and then proceeded to reach out and grab Jake's arm.)
(Let's head back, okay? I think maybe that juice was booze.)