Eddie's mind started wheeling out of control. Dead. He's dead. Sure he'd had the thought that he might be when he got there, but no one's really serious when they think that! Besides, Richie's there. Richie. Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck. If Richie was there... Then was he dead, too?! No, no he'd said they'd gotten out. But how was that possible?

As his mind continued to spiral out of control, Eddie began to shake his head. He frowned deeply, "No... Noooo no no, this isn't possible." Okay, that was usually Stan's line, but in this case it was fucking true. The pitch of his voice went up as words spilled out of his mouth in a torrent. "No. This can't be real. Because if I'm dead, why am I in the fucking world of tomorrow instead of, I don't know, anywhere fucking else?! Not to mention the fact that you're here. And if you're here it would stand to reason that you're dead, too, but you said that you got out. And if only one of us is dead then how the fuck are we in the same place?!"

He snapped, then. Laughing and shaking his head. His hands went up to his face. "I'm hallucinating. That's gotta be it. I'm in a coma somewhere and this shit is some kind of twisted fucking hallucination. That's gotta be it because otherwise this doesn't fucking. Make. Sense!"

Sorry, Richie. Eddie's not okay right now.