Chapter Text
August 13th
You feel as if a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.
You told them—the Losers—everything about your relationship with Robert Gray. It was hard at first, especially when it came to talking about the abuse and the rape, but they were all so patient with you (Uncle Howard included). They were all there for you when you broke down in the middle of speaking; they all wrapped their arms around you and told you that it was going to be okay. You’ve never felt so full in those minutes of hugging and comfort, and just like you felt their pain—they felt yours. They laughed with you, they cried with you. They shared your hatred and anger towards Robert (IT), and none of them held a judgmental gaze while you told your story.
They even had a sleepover at the estate, just so they could make sure that you were okay. You felt relieved and free, and for a brief moment in your grief and suffering: you felt happy. Genuine happiness unlike what you felt like with Robert—there was no worry because you told the truth, and no fear because the threat was no longer there. Sure now you had to deal with everything that happened to you (not to mention the fact that you still felt grief from his death), but you weren’t alone in that process. You had people there for you, who were willing to be there for you at any given time. It was amazing.
Two days had passed since your confession and you were all hanging out in the Barrens, on your way to something that Ben was going to show you all. He said it was “secret side-project” he had been working on since summer. You were walking side-by-side with Victor in the back, but you weren’t holding hands. At first he was afraid that you were self-loathing yourself, or thought that you were afraid of being in a relationship like the one you had with Robert again (to a certain extent, you were deathly afraid of that happening)—but you had a different reason. You explained to him yesterday that you needed some time to yourself before you could go into a relationship again, and Victor was completely understanding.
“Did anything happen at school while I was gone?” you asked, messing with your hair.
It was no longer at your waist, but now at elbow-length. You did miss how it was long before, but when Beverly suggested the idea; you weren’t opposed to it. You and her had a girl session yesterday morning, and when you left the bathroom with slightly shorter hair, you felt even better about yourself. In a way, cutting your hair was like getting rid of dead weight.
Victor shakes his head, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“No fights, surprisingly,” he quipped, smiling. “Sally Mueller got herself a new boy-toy.”
“Already?” you questioned, eyes widening.
You all found out a couple of days ago that the eighteen-year-old that was killed by Patrick Hockstetter: was Peter Gordon. It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Patrick would do that—he literally threatened to skin your faces off after school—but it did make you sympathize with Sally Mueller a little. You didn’t approve of her relationship with Peter Gordon, especially during the time when she was still in middle school, but you could (in a way) relate that to your relationship with Robert.
“Mhm,” Victor said—reigning you out of your thoughts.
“Liam Harper.”
“Him? The jock with crazy hair?”
“Yup. They got together on Wednesday.”
“Probably after the first game...”
“Yeah...just curious, what would you say if I joined the football team?”
You snort, pushing him playfully. “That I’d join cheer to make sure that you don’t get pummeled too hard.”
Meanwhile in the front, everyone else was chatting amongst themselves. You wondered where Ben was taking you all, since the walk was a bit far from the estate. Although July was the peak for summer, things were also beautiful in August—especially with the clouds and breeze returning more and more. Finally, Ben came to a halt, bending down on the forest floor to brush some leaves away.
“It’s here,” he said with a smile.
His hands met something, and when he lifted his hand, a trapdoor opened, and he entered. Beverly followed after him, followed by everyone else. Your eyes widened in surprise when your were met with an underground clubhouse, taking in everything. It was a start, and you wouldn’t mind adding some furniture or posters in here, but you were more amazed by the fact that Ben made this. You and Victor were the only ones who had to crouch a little, since the two of you were taller than the others.
“What the dick is this?” Richie asked, fumbling with his glasses. “How’d you build it?”
“When did you build it?” added Bill, who brushed past you.
“Here and there,” Ben replied, pointing around, “I guess...It was already dug out so I just had to reinforce the walls and uh...get some wood for the roof door, and that’s pretty much it.”
“This is amazing, Ben!” you exclaimed.
Ben beamed at your compliment. “Pretty good for my first time, right?” he replied, placing his hand on one of the beams. Just as he did that a piece of wood fell behind Beverly, causing you all to jump.
“Now that’s a cool feature,” Richie scoffs. “What happens if you put your hand on the other pillar, professor?”
“Okay, this is,” Eddie exclaimed from behind, pointing to the fallen piece of wood. He paced around the room, glancing over every little thing anxiously. You were surprised at his little outburst, but then remembered that he had been hanging out with Richie for the past week—and the trashmouth’s behavior did rub off on him a little. “...exactly why there are safety codes; why we have permits. This place is a death-trap you understand that?”
Ben’s face fell, causing Victor to wrap an arm around him.
“Relax Ben,” Victor cheered him up. “It’s a work in progress, right?”
“Y-Yeah,” Ben’s mood lifted a little.
Eddie rolled his eyes, motioning to the flashlight, “—and what is this? Something from Iron Maiden?”
“It’s a flashlight, Eds,” you deadpanned.
“A-And this? Wait, what is—I-I mean, I—oh, this looks cool.”
Eddie bent down, grabbing a paddle ball that was placed on a stool.
“I got that for $3 at the store,” Ben said, “so, be careful please.”
Eddie ignored Ben and began to ramble on while using the paddle ball in front of Stan’s face. Everybody watched in silence, including Richie, as Eddie began to become more hyperactive by the minute. In the back of your mind, you wondered if Eddie’s lack of taking medication (when his mother didn’t force him to) was starting to actually affect him. Finally, the string of the paddle ball gave in and Eddie’s face turned into a frown.
“Look what you did,” Eddie said to Stan, “you broke it.”
“I broke it?!” Stan replied incredulously. “Go get the ball back.”
Eddie cringed, watching as the ball rolled between the cracks. “There’s no fucking way I’m putting my hand in there.”
“What do you guys want to do tomorrow?” you ask, trying to ease the awkward mood.
Ben relaxed a little more, shooting you a thankful look to which you returned with a smile. Victor released his arm from Ben, and walked over to you to observe the rest of the room. There wasn’t much to look at, but you could tell that Victor was still a bit uncomfortable being around the complete Losers Club—it was probably an age-gap experience thing that got to him.
“W-We could go t-t-to the m-movies,” Bill shrugged.
“Nightmare on Elm Street 5?” Mike asked. “I heard it just came out on Friday.”
“We can do that,” Beverly nodded.
“Thanks for showing us this place, Ben,” Victor said from behind.
“I hope we get to hang out here more.”
“Me too,” Ben replied, smiling.
While they began to talk again, feeling comfortable being in the clubhouse, you left outside to take a breather. You unzip your backpack—which you now brought everywhere with you—and began to snack on some food. You were still tired, physically (and emotionally), but after finally eating a bunch of food you were finally getting back on your feet. You still had incredibly gaunt facial features, but at least you could focus on things more. In the back of your mind, there was a lingering thought about Robert and what he’d say about you not taking care of yourself.
“You need to eat darling,” you could practically imagine him saying that. Or, “I care a lot about you, and it hurts me to see you so tired...let me take care of you.” You released a shaky breath, pulling yourself from your thoughts. You needed to stop thinking about him.
He wasn’t going to be there to take care of you anymore.
September 2nd
You and the others were sitting near the Kenduskeag, not too far away from the Kissing Bridge, waiting for Beverly to compose herself. You had all come here after she told you (personally) that she saw some...things...while she was floating in IT’s deadlights—and told you to tell the others to meet her here. You were a bit confused at first (you initially thought that Beverly was just in a catatonic state), but was curious soon after when she said that it was about you all and IT. That’s how you got the others to follow you to the spot Beverly designated, in an area not too far away from where you had your little “rock war”.
She paced back and forth, wringing her hands until her eyes found yours and her face lit up.
“Thank God,” she said, relieved. “I was getting a bit antsy here.”
“Don’t worry about it Bev,” you replied. “So, what did you want to tell us?”
She motioned for you all to sit down, and you followed—with you being sandwiched between Victor and Bill. One by one everyone else took their seat. Eddie and Stan still had their bandages, but were soon to remove them in a week; and Eddie’s cast had even sported all of your names (including Victor’s).
During the time that passed in August you had gotten better in your grief, though you still had lingering thoughts about Robert, you begrudgingly came to accept that he (IT) was finally gone. It didn’t ease the emptiness in your heart, but you now felt better about yourself and your friends. As promised, you all went to the movies and hung out in the arcade on some occasions. The underground clubhouse, which Richie dubbed as the “House of the Losers,” was also a place where you all grew comfortable in hanging out it—and in the times that you didn’t hang out, Victor came to the estate where you would hang out under the gazebo in the garden. Holland and Gray were doing well, as always, and the latter warmed up to you nicely.
Your powers had also been the discussion of a few conversations in the clubhouse sometimes, and unfortunately: Maturin never spoke to you in your dreams for the past month, leaving you to fend for yourself. You did, however, continue to dream about the tower and the field of roses more often. The crimson sheets that you saw in the field had also blended in with pure white sheets—which began to appear ever since IT died—that billowed in the endless sky: and you wondered if that was a type of symbolism that represented you leaving Robert for your friends.
In addition to that, you and Uncle Howard warmed up to each other quite well—and you learned so much from him about your parents. He was also setting up some educational courses for you to return to dancing, you were still in love with ballet, after all that. Things were finally looking up for once, and you were beginning to feel more hopeful as the days passed by. It was a bit hard at first to get used to a normal life-style—since you were normally cooped up in Robert’s estate—but you got the hang of it. Therapy was also another thing that Uncle Howard got for you, and you tried to open up as best as you could (without mentioning the fact that Robert was an eldritch being all along); but therapy didn’t do much to ease your mind. Still, it felt nice to get everything off of your chest.
Things were finally going well for you, and for the first time in months: you truly felt free.
You shifted in your seat, messing with a necklace that you wore. Despite the protests of Uncle Howard, Victor, and Beverly—you chained the ring Robert gave you and now wore it as a necklace. The ring was a heavy reminder about Robert’s presence, but you didn’t mind wearing it. You told them that you kept it with you to remember the good memories; because in the end, that’s all you wanted to keep after Robert (IT) was gone. You wanted to remember the good times, all of the memories that left you feeling in love and in bliss...you didn’t want to let go of those memories as much as the bad ones tended to resurface.
Finally, Beverly takes a deep breath—prompting you to return your attention to her.
“I can only remember parts of it...I thought I was dead: that’s what it felt like,” she started softly. You don’t ignore the look in Stan’s eyes when she says this, and you remind yourself that Stan (to a certain extent) had also seen the deadlights for a brief moment. Beverly’s voice brings you back to her. “I saw all of us....all of us were there...back in the cistern.” She turns to look at you, and then Ben before continuing; she anxiously wrings her hands, as if a lot is going on in her mind—gathering her thoughts and her memories. “But we were older,” she stated with a sigh, “...we were...we were our parents’ ages.”
Our parents’ ages?
Was she saying that we’d come back?
Was she saying that IT was still alive?
Was he still alive?
Why would IT show Beverly this?
“W-W-What were we d-doing there?” Bill questions.
Beverly shakes her head. “I-I...I just remember how we all felt...how scared we were...” She makes eye contact with you for a brief moment and looks back down at her hands. “...the pain of...of...I-I don’t think I can ever forget that.”
Sensing that everyone was getting a bit uncomfortable, Richie pipes into the conversation. “Am I still handsome as an adult?” he asks, making a face while squishing his cheeks. All of you chuckle and laugh at his antics—the rest of the silence filled by the bugs and the rushing water nearby. The Barrens were truly a really peaceful place you could relax in. You lean your head on Victor’s shoulder, liking the way that he smiled in response to your touch.
Beverly nods. “You’ll...You’ll grow into your looks.”
Richie’s face scrunched up and he turned to Eddie. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“What about me?” Stan asks with a smile.
“You wear glasses,” Beverly replies, giggling. “And...your hair gets darker too.”
“Aw, I’m gonna miss Stan the Man’s golden locks!” Richie pouts, leaning over to mess with Stan’s hair—earning a glare from said boy.
“How about me Bev?” you question curiously.
Beverly turns to you, and there’s something in the way that she looks at you that makes you wonder what she’s thinking about. You can see the corners of her lips twitch downwards for a moment into a frown, and the light in her eyes almost fades. Her eyes trail over yours and for some reason, you could almost feel (and smell; begrudgingly) the fear that comes off of her at that moment. It’s a type of fear that’s different from the one you saw in her eyes whenever her father is around. The fear in her eyes is more like gut-clenching terror. She shifted nervously but her face still holds a smile, and you have to push back the curiosity and concern that came from her reaction.
“You’ll...” she trails off nervously—which goes unnoticed by everyone except you. “...You’re really beautiful as an adult...and you...you’ll shine above us all.”
You feel better at her response and you lean back, a giddy smile reaching your lips at her compliment. You wondered if you’d look the same as you did now, or have your mom’s more rounded features? Would you take on a slightly sharper jawline like your dad? How tall were you going to be as an adult? Would you stop growing? You already peaked at five foot, eight inches and it would be interesting if you grew taller. Your eyes trail over to Victor, wondering what he would look like as well. You liked the way he looked now—and you liked his hair too. Would he be like his dad and work out more? Questions began to fill your mind one by one, wondering what the others would look like as well.
“Talk about vague,” Richie snorts. “You the Riddler or something?”
“Give her some credit Rich,” you giggle. “I like the response...gets my mind thinking.”
Before anyone else could ask about their own appearance, Bill rose on your left, picking up a discarded piece of glass on the grass. He takes the piece of glass in his hands, looking at you all. “S-S-Swear it,” he says, “...s-swear...if IT isn’t dead—” He turns to you for a brief moment, giving you a sympathetic look, “—if IT ever comes back...w-w-we’ll come back too.” You share an anxious look with Bill, staring at him wide-eyed as everyone else does the same. You swallowed a knot in your throat, your breaths going shallow at the thought of IT still being alive.
What if IT really wasn’t dead after-all?
Victor stands up after Bill, urging everyone else to get up too; and you get up—albeit you’re hesitant in your actions—but you watched anxiously as Bill digs the piece of glass in his hand (making your left palm itch a little). He then turns to Richie, then Eddie, then Mike, Stan, Ben, Beverly, and Victor...one by one everyone makes a promise. Finally, Bill stops with you and you gently lift your hand to him. You watch with a curious stare as he digs the glass into your palm—but you’re not really bothered by it. If anything, you’re so used to the pain by now that the way the glass drags against your left palm is almost ticklish. You give him a reassuring smile, looking down at the blood that pours from your hand.
Bill discards the piece of glass and returns back to his spot, and links hands with you and Richie. Everyone follows his movements, your hands holding Bill’s and Victor’s, the blood from Victor’s hand coating your right. All of you stay like this—linked together—and you could practically sense the bond and connection that grows stronger between you all at that moment: it relieves you and fills you with more energy than you could’ve ever felt in your life. The emptiness and loneliness going away in the moments that you hold hands—being with the eight people who gave your life meaning. After a few seconds pass, you all let go, but surprisingly the emptiness doesn’t come back as hard. You feel like a piece of you has finally reconnected to your heart at that moment.
“I gotta go,” Stan says, his gaze growing serious towards Bill. “I hate you.”
You snort, letting out quiet giggles as Stan’s face breaks into a smile. Bill returns the expression and says goodbye to Stan. Eddie leaves next, followed by Mike, Ben, and Richie. Bill and Victor don’t quite leave yet—leaving you to talk with Beverly for a moment.
“Are you alright?” you tilt your head.
She looks at you, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You looked...sad...when I asked you what I looked like as an adult.”
She opens her mouth to speak but averts her gaze. The fear comes back for a brief moment before fading away, a cheeky grin on her face. “I’m just gonna miss your eyes,” she pinches your cheek. “Your eyes they...they’re definitely going to look more red.”
“Probably cause of my powers,” you reason. Beverly nods, but still shows unease. You wondered what else she was going to say about you—because she still looks like she has a lot on her mind. You don’t pry though, and focus on another question instead.
“So...you’re moving to Portland tomorrow.”
“Mhm,” she nods.
“How long are you going to stay there?”
“Auntie Ellie said as long as I want...I’ll probably move out when I’m eighteen though.”
“What you think you’re going to do after that?”
“Oh...you know me, [Y/N].”
“Fashion designer...?”
“Yup! And I take it that you’re still going to dance?”
You nod. “I’ve always wanted to perform in London, at the Royal Opera House.”
“Don’t forget to save me front row tickets,” she joked.
You let out a laugh, nodding. “I will.”
She gets up, sighing. “I’ll call you when I can...bye [Y/N].”
“Bye Bev,” you reply, taking her in your arms and envelop her in a hug. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” she said quietly.
With that you send her off, leaving you with Bill and Victor. Bill shuffles nervously, anxious in the presence of Victor but gives you a weak smile. “I’ll see you guys later,” he says before turning on his heel. You and Victor return his farewell, and as he walks away you finally turn your attention to Victor.
“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Whatever you want to do,” he shrugged. “I have no plans this weekend.”
A lot of things went by your mind at that moment, but you finally thought of something. “Can we go to a drive-in theater?” you ask with hope in your eyes. “I’ve always wanted to go to one and...”
Victor nods, a smile reaching his face. “We can do that.”
Your eyes light up and soften at that moment and you lift your left hand up to his cheek, but he doesn’t care that there’s blood on it. You gaze up at his eyes, noting that he had the same thing in mind as one of his arms wraps around your back, pulling you close to him. You hesitate for a brief second—it’s been nearly a month since you last kissed someone (with the last person being Pennywise)—but the reassurance and comfort in his eyes is all that you need to continue.
You press your lips against his in a gentle kiss, not giving a care about the world. When you pull away you give him a shy smile, adoring the way he stared back at you with warmth all over his face. His dark brown eyes met with your pair—mahogany laced with crimson. It’s almost as if it’s just you two in that brief moment; nothing to bother your peace. Nothing but the warmth of summer on your skin, and the feeling of Victor’s arms wrapped around you.
It was at that moment you knew you could fall in love again.