(no subject)

She shouldn't be so tired. At least, Beverly can't stop thinking so, though she knows that's probably not really how it works. If she was actually asleep for two days, then it seems like it should stand to reason that she should be well-rested, full of energy. But even with a little while having past, she doesn't feel like she was asleep, still struggling to try to make sense of what happened. She was unconscious, but not dreaming. The others were with her, and as far as she can tell, experiencing the same thing. Richie was fucking dead, but he's here now, apparently having just woken up when it happened, despite the rest of them spending days in that other world, mourning him.

Though she's seen him now, she still feels like she's doing that a little. The feeling isn't one that goes away so easily. Even if he's fine now, it still happened, in some way; they all still lived it. It's not the only reason why she's so fucking exhausted, but it definitely doesn't help on that front. Part of her wants to get back in bed, or maybe lie down on the couch and watch stupid TV all day, otherwise doing nothing. She doubts it would matter much to Hopper as long as she's here for him to keep an eye on her. At the same time, she wants to be with her friends, the people who were going through this shit, too. It's all disorienting and nothing quite feels real, and although she doesn't want to make this about her, to admit to how fucked up she is when she's pretty sure the others all have it worse, she thinks the only way to combat that is together.

When she sees Eddie's text — Richie's not dead but he's still an asshole — it's too late for her to actually get the news, but she responds and winds up inviting him over. At least when she gets up to answer the door this time, she's not as sluggish as she was when Richie came by earlier.

"Hey," she says with a thin little smile. "Some morning, huh?"