#because yep everything that gets brought up somehow winds down to this conclusion

[zombolouge]

I made a meme about veilguard to share in the group chat because every time we talked about any questline, of any kind, this was pretty much the end point we got to:

So yeah. That's about how I feel about the narrative arcs we got in DAV.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part Seven

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only Notes: Welcome back to this week's episode of Andy Barber Has Lead Me To Write Questionable Things! Set before the series. This chapter is a l o n g one, guys. Sorry bout that. Thank you to everyone that’s liked and read this!! Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Warnings: Infidelity and sexual content. If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you. Chapter-specific warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: I’d heard from Neal a couple of times since the seminar. I’d gotten a formal email thanking me for ‘sharing my expertise’ with the office, and then a less formal email asking my opinion on a particular strategy (which had struck me as odd, and something he really ought to go to a coworker about).

My interactions with Neal and Andy had led me to the conclusion that I wouldn’t be so stupidly interested in (or incredibly irritated by) Andy if I properly had my eye on someone else. Despite the fact that Neal had seemed interested, he worked with Andy, and that was way too close for comfort. I hadn’t bothered with online dating for a couple of years, and I hadn’t been in a serious relationship since my junior year of college. Though, after nearly a whole half hour of swiping through Tinder, I was already losing hope. Nora had mentioned a few other apps for me to sign up for, but I’d just wanted to start with one and work my way up. I stopped on one profile, considering. He was cute.... Looked a bit like Neal. I sighed, swiping right before moving on. I’d heard from Neal a couple of times since the seminar. I’d gotten a formal email thanking me for ‘sharing my expertise’ with the team, and then a less formal email asking my opinion on a particular strategy (which had struck me as odd, and something he really ought to go to a coworker about). I had replied with an honest and business-minded email, which had surprisingly kicked off a back-and-forth. The content mostly steered toward work -- he’d asked if the Christmas season made me work schedule better or worse; I asked him if judges disapproved of ugly sweaters, and if so, were they worth risking it on the off-chance it endeared you to the jury. I frowned when my phone screen switched to a phone call, displaying the name ‘Laurie Barber’. I got off of my couch and and headed into the kitchen, wine glass in hand. I drained it before hitting the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello?” I asked. “Hi!” Laurie was bright on the other end. “Hey,” I greeted, “What’s up?” “I wanted to invite you to our Christmas party!” I cringed, setting my wine glass on the counter and stepping over to my fridge to retrieve what was left of the rosé. I’d been avoiding Laurie’s invitations for a few week’s now -- to the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot marathon fundraiser for Jacob’s school, to the Newton town tree lighting, to spiked hot chocolate night with her and Toby (because apparently I’d managed to make a good impression on Toby at brunch). Laurie would’ve been running at the Turkey Trot, but she’d told me I could “hang out with Andy at the water station for the participants” while she was running; she’d helped organize the tree lighting, and would’ve been busy, but “don’t worry, Andy’ll be there!”; spiked hot chocolate night would’ve been at the Barber residence. God knows if he would’ve been around. But a Christmas party? “It’ll be tons of fun-- caroling, s’mores, and-- an ugly sweater contest, that was Jacob’s idea, he saw some really fun ones on the internet,” Laurie was going on as I poured myself another glass of wine. I considered this as I put the bottle down. It was a party. There was be scads of people there, Andy would be co-hosting. There was virtually no chance I would be alone with him under any circumstances. Besides, I’d turned down so many of Laurie’s invitations that I was starting to feel bad. "Sounds like fun! Can I bring anything?” I asked. -- The fear that Andy and I might wind up alone somehow was further assuaged the second I stepped into the Barber household. It looked like half of the Newton Bar Association had been invited, as well as the PTA of Jacob’s school, a third of the student body, and the board of the Children’s Cottage. I located Laurie quickly enough, smiling at the blinking Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer sweater that was too cute to constitute as an ugly one. She drew me into a warm hug, grinning. “I’m so glad you made it!” She said, steering me into the kitchen and taking the bottle of wine I’d brought from me. “No ugly sweater, huh?” Toby was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, pink-cheeked and wearing a Where’s Waldo Christmas sweater. She held her hand up, gesturing for me to give her a twirl. I chuckled, holding my hands up in surrender and doing a small spin in place, the skirt of my dress flaring out a bit with the movement. “I had a Christmas party at work and I didn’t have a chance to change before I came. Besides, I knew I’d never top what you two would be wearing,” I said. Toby hummed, nodding. “You’re excused,” She said. I smiled, leaning against the counter beside her. “That dress is darling, though,” Laurie complimented. I smiled, smoothing my hands over the red velvet fabric. “Thank you! It has pockets,” I said, tucking my hands into them. Laurie and Toby ‘Ooo’d before we all descended into giggles. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine or eggnog or anything?” Laurie asked, turning toward where the drinks were laid out on the counter. “Oh-- Do you have white wine?” I asked. “Yep, we have riesling, and chardonnay, and sauvignon blanc.” “Chardonnay please,” I said, pulling my phone out as it buzzed in my pocket. ‘You got a new match! 😍😍😍’ I had a racked up a few of the notifications in the last few hours, but I tended not to check Tinder while I was at work. I glanced at Toby and Laurie and, finding them both occupied, I opened the app. I looked through the new matches, a few of whom had already messaged me. I answered a couple before I tucked my phone away again, accepting the glass Laurie held out to me. “Cheers,” I said brightly. -- “Of course, you really want to invest now-- In a few years, the value of gold is going to skyrocket.” Gary Lanzman was, quite possibly, the most boring man I had ever had the misfortune to wind up in a conversation with. “I did not know that,” I said, shaking my head a little bit (I still didn’t know that, I hadn’t processed anything he’d said since ‘hi, I’m Gary’). I frowned as my phone buzzed repeatedly in my pocket. “Oh-- I’m sorry,” I reached into my pocket, pulling it out and looking at the number, “It’s a client, excuse me,” I said, shooting him and Toby an apologetic smile as I excused myself. I answered the call, muttering, “Hi! Give me one second, I’m just trying to get to a quiet place.” There were no quiet places fucking anywhere; the Barber house was packed to the rafters with respectable but noisy people. I wasn’t even going to try upstairs; it would be a fight to get to where my coat had been flung over the back of the couch and I wouldn’t go out without it, it was freezing outside. I spotted the door to Andy’s office and frowned. I had gone in once or twice back when I babysat Jacob, but I’d never spent much time in there. I squeezed past a couple of people before I tried the handle. The door was unlocked. I opened the door, peering inside. The room was dark, and blessedly quiet. I relaxed, shutting the door behind myself and hurrying over to flick on the lamp on Andy’s desk. “Hi! I’m so sorry about that,” I said quickly. -- “Right... Absolutely, and that is why Nora and I are keeping such a close eye on this,” I said. I had been on the phone for nearly half an hour. In that time I’d kicked off my heels, paced around Andy’s office, and finally taken up residence on the edge of his desk, swinging my feet back and forth as I worked to assuage my client’s worries. I jumped at the sound of the door opening, hand coming up to my chest when I saw Neal poke his head in. I sighed silently, signalling to him that I was on the phone. He nodded, and I figured that that would be that, but instead he stepped inside, shutting the door behind himself with a smile. I raised a brow as he wandered around, looking at the books on Andy’s shelf, trailing his fingers along the spines. I had the feeling Andy wouldn’t like that. “Mhm... I completely understand. Tell you what, I can send you an email tomorrow morning that outlines everything that we talked about. If you like, we can schedule a call with Nora on Monday and just make sure we’re all on the same page... Well of course, Millie, that’s what I’m here for... Yes, you, too. Have a great weekend...Okay...Okay...Thanks. Bye.” I pulled the phone away from my ear, shaking my head a little as I hung up. “Everything alright?” Neal asked. “Yeah, just uh,” I swept my hand through my hair, “A heavy-handed client.” “Did I hear you say you’d be sending her an email in the morning?” Neal asked, leaning against the bookshelf across from me. I nodded. “I was planning on going in anyway, this is just getting added to the list,” I admitted. I slid off of the desk, toeing into my shoes and picking up my glass of wine from where I’d left it on Andy’s desk. “Yikes,” Neal commented. I smiled. “It’s not that bad.” “I think you might work more than I do.” We were quiet for a moment; Neal wasted no time in looking me over, and didn’t bother to be subtle about it. I quirked a brow as he met my eye again. “No ugly sweater?” I asked. Neal smiled. “Not quite my thing,” He said. “Why not?” “Just...Not my style.” “I’m sure you could’ve found one that looked like a suit and tie.” Neal laughed, pushing off of the bookshelf and ambling closer to me. “Maybe,” he conceded. He stopped within inches of me, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. “What are you doing in here?” I asked. “Would you believe me if I said I was looking for the bathroom and got lost?” He asked. “Not for a second.”  Neal’s smile widened, and he nodded before he turned and fiddled with a paperweight on Andy’s desk. “I saw you duck in here and I didn’t see you come out.” “Well, that would be because I’m still in here,” I teased before striding away from the desk. I retraced his steps, looking over a few of Andy’s books. I could feel Neal watching me as I pulled one out, skimming the back cover. “Hey,” Neal said softly, coming up behind me, “I’ve been meaning to ask you--” Whatever it was was cut short by the door opening to reveal a moderately irritated looking Andy. “There you are, Loguidice,” He said, leaning against the now-open door. He kept one hand on the door knob and tucked the other tucked in his pocket as he stared Neal down, “Your date’s looking for you.” My brows rose. I glanced back at Neal, whose jaw had gone tight with irritation. “Thanks,” He said stiffly before glancing back down at me. “I’ll see you out there,” He added lightly, smiling before he left the study, brushing past Andy. I turned back to the book, wiggling it back into its place. I froze as I heard the click of the door close and Andy say, “She’s not that cute.” “Hm?” I tipped my head in his direction without turning to look at him. “His date.” “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” I said. “Well, it explains why he’s more interested in being alone with you.” I took a sip of my wine, hoping it would dampen the butterflies in my stomach and explain the redness taking over my ears. I plucked another book off of the shelf, looking it over. “I see you chose professional over personal,” I said, thinking back to the conversation we’d about Neal weeks before. I understood what Andy had meant now; Neal was very outwardly ambitious, and Andy keeping him close by could signal to Lynn that she was on her way to being ousted, even if it wasn’t true. “You think I made the wrong choice?” His voice was closer now, but I didn’t turn to see just how close. I was a little afraid to find out. I tucked the book away again before I turned, walking back over to Andy’s desk and looking over the stack of books there. “I couldn’t say. You know your own situation better than I ever could.” “You’d know it better if you weren’t avoiding me.” “I’m not avoiding you.” “No?” Andy asked. “Nope.” I set my glass of wine on the desk, reaching into my pocket as my phone buzzed. It was a Tinder notification. “You need to get that?” Andy asked. I shook my head, turning and leaning back against the desk, dropping my phone back in my pocket. When I looked up, I found Andy just a few feet away, leaning against his bookshelf as I had been before. It was clear he’d been a late arrival to the party - he’d only stripped out of his suit jacket, had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Andy said. “I just said I didn’t need to get it.” “I meant between you and Neal.” My brow furrowed as I considered his question. “What could you have possibly interrupted?” I asked. “You tell me,” He said, folding his arms over his chest. “We were just talking.” “About what?” “Work.” “Whose, yours or his?” “Mine, but we had talked about his, too.” “What about yours?” “I had to step in here to take a call from a client. He commented that I work a lot.” “Do you think he was trying to suss out availability for some kind of one-on-one time?” “Objection. Leading the witness,” I teased. Andy laughed, shaking his head. When he looked at me again, it was from under his lashes, this warm, disarming smile on his lips. “C’mon,” He said softly, in a way that told me he thought I was being naïve. I rolled my eyes. “What does it matter what Neal and I were talking about?” Andy straightened from his lean, hands still tucked in his pockets as he drifted closer to me. I watched him warily, heart rabbiting in my chest as he got closer. Was it stuffy in that room? It had to be-- I was boiling. What the hell did they keep their thermostat set to, anyway? “Maybe I don’t want you talking to him,” Andy said. He was close enough to touch, close enough to speak so low without having to raise his voice, close enough that I could see the chain peeking out from underneath his collar. It was a struggle to keep my eyes locked with his, not to let them greedily wander over his lips and neck like I wanted to. “You have no say in who I talk to, Barber,” I pointed out. Andy frowned a little at that, head tipping to the side. “Why do you call me that?” He asked.  “What?” “You never use my name.” “Barber is your name.” “You know what I mean.” Andy crowded closer, hands resting on the desk behind me and caging me in. I was sure he could hear my heart pounding, or at least feel where our chests were brushing together. He looked down at me, eyes dark with something I couldn’t place. “Say my name,” he murmured. It was a simple request, so why the hell did it feel so goddamn salacious? I swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry. “...Why?” I asked. “Because I want to hear it,” Andy reasoned. “You afraid I don’t know it?” I sassed, trying to regain some composure, some semblance of the upper hand. Andy wasn’t having it, though; the attempt made his lips twitch with amusement before his head dipped closer. My eyelids fluttered as his lips skimmed over my jaw. “Barber--” I mumbled, raising my hands with the intention of pushing him away.  Instead, they curled in the fabric of his shirt, the traitors, savoring in the crinkling of the crisp fabric in my grip, in the press of muscle that I feel under the layers of cloth. Andy tutted against my skin before he lifted his lips to my ear. “Doesn’t have to be loud,” he murmured, “Say it.” I shivered at the puff of his breath against my ear, the light scrape of his beard against my cheek. I shouldn’t have touched him. I had to let go. I had to let go, and push him away, and laugh. This was a joke, this was all an awful, awful joke. It had to be. Even my hottest dreams hadn’t felt this good-- And we were barely doing anything. “Andy,” I mumbled. I squeezed my eyes shut as I did, heat flooding my face. I felt ridiculous, exposed; I wanted to curl myself into his chest as if I could hide from him there. Andy hummed in approval, the sound vibrating against the hinge of my jaw as his hands lifted from their post on the desk, skimming over the curve of my thigs and sliding up. They gathered in the fabric, bunching it up a bit. I squirmed against him, breath coming out in short pants as I squeezed my thighs together. Andy’s hands settled on my waist, thumbs rubbing soothingly over the fabric, like he could still me that way, as if I could be calm. “Say it again.” I didn’t think I could. I shook my head a little bit. Andy’s thumbs pressed a little harder into me. “C’mon, sweetheart,” He soothed, “I know you know it.” I sucked in a sharp breath at that, unable to help myself. “Andy,” I exhaled. I bit my lip as Andy began to press kisses along the line of my jaw. One of my hands uncurled from his shirt, lifting and hovering over at the side of his neck, unsure. “It’s okay,” he murmured against my cheek, “You can touch me. I want you to.” I turned my head a little to meet his eye, shy in my curiosity before I let my hand settle against his skin, faintly registering the ridges of his chain under my palm. Andy nudged his nose against my cheek, dropping another kiss against to my jaw, then my chin. He went still for a moment, watching me before he brushed a tender kiss to corner of my mouth. I let my hand slide up his neck, grasping at the hair at his nape. I more felt than heard the approving rumble he made before his lips were at the corner of mine again, pressing another kiss to the same spot, lingering, soft, warm. It would be so easy to turn my head and catch his lips with mine-- Or to slide my hand up into his hair and pull like I wanted to. If I just leaned back on the desk a little more, spread my legs, Andy would have plenty of room to-- I jerked back from Andy as I heard the doorknob jiggle. We were still pressed close together as Andy turned to look at the sound; his hands didn’t fall away from me as they should’ve. “Andy--” I hissed, pushing at his chest and sending him a couple of steps back. He frowned down at me, affronted. “Hey, Andy, have you seen-- Oh, there you are!” Toby said brightly, cheeks flushed, “Come on, you haven’t even tried to find Waldo on my sweater yet!” She said, holding her hand out to me. She was tipsier, saw nothing off about my own flushed appearance or slight dishevelment. I didn’t shoot Andy a second glance or reach for my glass where I’d left it on Andy’s desk. I took hold of Toby’s hand and let her pull me back out into the throng of party-goers. I lingered for five more minutes, told Laurie I’d have to work early in the morning, and managed to leave without seeing Andy again. Nothing I did could get rid of the thought of him, though -- of his hot breath on my skin, or his hands on my thighs, or his lips on the corner of mine. I got a text from a number I didn’t know as I pulled into a parking space at my apartment building. (8:24 PM) Nightcap? (8:25PM) Who is this? (8:25 PM) Neal. I got your number from Laurie. I looked down at my phone, leg bouncing restlessly. There was no way I’d be able to go upstairs and face the rest of the evening alone. I needed to get out of my own head for a while. (8:26 PM) Your date won’t miss you? (8:26 PM) She’s not a date, just a friend. That was good to hear. I’d already gotten in the middle of one too many couples that evening. I pushed that thought down with a shake of my head, texting Neal my address. (8:27 PM) My place is a lot more fun than a packed bar. (8:27 PM) Be there in twenty.

Tag list: @fanficadddddict69 ; @nina-sj​; @rosalynshields

[bethhxrmon]

do flowers exist at night? -chapter four

Chapter Four: Attempts in Babysitting

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: After Steve’s failed attempt to get Nancy back, he and Annie have much larger problems on their plate brought to their attention by none other than Dustin Henderson.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing, inaccurate dialogue

A/N: We’re really getting into season 2 territory! It’s kinda difficult to figure out how to divide these chapters, but I figured it out. If you enjoyed this, please let me know, I absolutely love getting feedback! If this is you need the other parts of this series, you can find them here.

~*~*~*~

Annie was quick to step out of the car to find out what was going on. Though, whatever the kid’s name was, she was quick to recognize him. It was hard to not remember the curly hair and that hat.

"Woah, what's going on here?" she asked, running up to Steve and the kid.

The curly haired kid huffed, "Why do you have some random chick here with you?"

"Hey, I’ve got a name! Hold up, you're the asshole who told me my house was haunted!" she exclaimed.

He ignored the comment, "Come on, Steve, I need the bat! We gotta go now!"

With that, the kid proceeded to continue yelling about how they needed to leave as he rushed into the passenger seat of the car. Annie scoffed, rolling her eyes as she was forced to take the backseat. The nerve of this child truly astonished her.

"Wait, what's going on, Dustin?" Steve asked as he drove off.

The kid took a deep breath, "I think I found a baby Demogorgan and I accidentally kept it as a pet."

"A what now?" Annie asked, interjecting, "Does anyone wanna explain what just happened?"

Steve sighed, "Annie, meet Dustin. Dustin, meet Annie. She's dealing with something that I think might be the Upside Down."

"Wait, that's what you call it? Why, though?" she asked.

Her comment was ignored as Dustin continued to go on about some monster that he didn't expect. Whatever was going on was now completely beyond her. It seemed Steve was taken aback as well. Maybe having two inter-dimensional issues in one day was a bit on the unbelievable side. What was more unbelievable was that she was older than this kid and she had to sit in the middle of the backseat so she could sit up closer to hear what was going on over the music Steve was playing.

Dustin glared at her, "Steve, she can't know this stuff."

"She's a part of this stuff. I can't take her home. We'll just go see what you're talking about and go from there," Steve insisted.

What was eating this kid was beyond her. Instead, she just wanted to know what was really going on. Something which she only had the vaguest idea of. Neither guy seemed keen on elaborating about what they were dealing with. That only left her with a sick feeling in her stomach.

Annie huffed, "Hey, it's me, the girl who's involved all this stuff. Are you guys gonna elaborate on what the hell 'this stuff' is supposed to mean? Or am I just supposed to sit back here and shut up?"

"Would that be too hard for you to do?" Dustin asked.

"Hey, can you two get along for five minutes? Where're we going?" Steve asked, looking over at Dustin.

"You've got the nail bat on you?"

"Yeah, in the trunk, always have."

"Why the fuck do you have a nail bat in your trunk?!" Annie exclaimed.

Steve sighed, "Yes, I've got a nail bat in my trunk. That's not the point. Where am I driving?"

"My house. It's in the cellar."

"And you're sure that... that this thing isn't just a lizard?"

"Yes, Steve, I'm sure it's not a lizard."

"But how do you know?"

"Because it grew and I caught it eating my cat!" Dustin yelled.

Steve stayed quiet for a few moments, "Oh... oh, yeah, yep, okay."

The remainder of the drive stayed completely silent aside from the music playing in the background. Most likely due to Steve not knowing what to say next and because Annie wasn't sure what to do with most of the information in front of her. What kind of monsters just appeared and grew and ate cats? Were those the things crawling over her earlier that day? She tried to not wonder too much despite wishing someone would spell out what was going on to her.

Since it was the middle of autumn, the sky was starting to darken earlier and earlier. By the time the three of them made it to Dustin's, it was pretty dark outside. Steve parked in the driveway and the three of them got out. They were first led to the doors of the cellar which were locked shut.

"I swear if this is some Halloween prank..." Steve warned, clutching the bat in his hands.

Dustin shook his head, "It's not."

"Wait!" Steve stopped himself from banging on the door to turn to Annie, "Why don't I get a nail bat or something?"

Steve shrugged, "You really think you can take it?"

"Well, if you get eaten alive, I don't wanna be next," she retorted, crossing her arms.

He sighed, "Okay, Dustin, get her something from your shed."

The kid came back a couple moments later with a pitchfork. Annie took it, holding it and trying to gauge its weight and how she could use it. This couldn't be too different from the stage combat class she took a couple of years before. Well, aside from the fact that if she screwed up she would wind up dead.

"I can work with this," she said, holding it almost like she would a broadsword.

Steve went ahead and unlocked the cellar door and opened it, his movements hesitant as he did so. The door was open and Annie clutched the handle of her pitchfork, her grip tight. She was unsure of what to expect, but she was mentally preparing herself for anything.

Nothing. There was only the dark stairway that led down to the cellar. Dustin was more than happy to let Steve go down first. Annie followed close behind Steve. While she didn't want to admit she almost tried to hide behind him, she did just that.

Only, when the pair got down, there was still nothing. No monster to speak of. She looked around, almost prepared for something to burst out of the wall and attack them like the kool-aid man. Steve picked up something gross and slimy from the ground.

Annie slowly walked toward a massive hole in the wall, "Um... do you think that's always been there?"

"Holy shit," Steve murmured before rushing back to the bottom of the stairs, asking for Dustin to come down.

Once Dustin was down with the pair, they were able to come to the conclusion that Dart had dug out of the cellar. As tempted as Annie was, the guys didn't let her go into the tunnels herself. Though, it seemed that those things had to lead somewhere. Maybe it was best to not find out. Nothing good could possibly come out of wherever it led.

Unsure of the next move, Dustin ran in to tell his mom that he was spending the night with one of his friends. Surely with putting their heads together, the three of them could come up with something. That was the hope as the three of them piled back into Steve's car. Dustin somehow managed to snag shotgun from Annie yet again. How she was losing to some annoying middle schooler was beyond her.

Soon enough, the three of them were sprawled about Steve's living room. Dustin laid across the couch while Annie managed to snag the recliner which left Steve on the floor. None of them had it in themselves to actually eat dinner.

"Well, we know they like blood," Steve suggested, "Maybe if we got some raw meat or something? That would draw them in, right?"

Dustin rolled his eyes, "I'm telling you, some nougat would be the way to go."

"Maybe for whatever creepy relationship you had with Dart, but there's more than one. We know that. If blood worked before, that's probably the best way to go," Annie said, her knees tucked up to her chest.

The conversation went around in circles for forever. At least, until they decided on going to the butcher's first thing in the morning. Hopefully, Dustin would be able to get to some of his friends involved. Not that Annie was sure how a bunch of thirteen-year-olds were going to help, but this was their only option given that the sheriff was nowhere to be found.

Eventually, Dustin wound up conking out on the couch. That left just Annie and Steve to their own devices. It was silent for a good while. After the last few months, Annie wasn't sure if she really liked the quiet all that much. And in the new setting, even with Erik roaming around the house, she couldn't help feeling like the whole place was disquieting.

She was the first to break the silence, "I'm sorry you didn't get to talk to Nancy."

"It's um... it's whatever, I'll get to it eventually. We've gotten back from worse," he said, running a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry you had to deal with all this. You know, if this is too much for you-"

"I'm stopping you right there," Annie said softly, "You're not going through this alone, okay? And no, Dustin doesn't count. He's smart, but he's pretty much a child."

Steve shook his head, "I'm serious, this is serious shit. It's like... could get you killed level of serious."

"All the more reason to stick around. Steve, you're my only friend in this shitty town. Now, I'm not gonna say I know how to actually fight with a monster, but I know how to use that pitchfork. Just trust me on this," she said, slipping down from the recliner to sit next to Steve against the coffee table.

He let out a small sigh, "You're sure?"

"Well, knowing the context of all this would be nice."

"Okay... you've heard of Will Byers, right?"

A long while later and Annie knew all the events that took place in Hawkins just a year prior. How Will Byers vanished into an alternate dimension and almost died. More importantly, Steve's involvement and how he obviously blamed himself for a death that had nothing to do with him. All of it leading up to the truth behind what happened on Halloween. The fact that Nancy tried to make him feel culpable made her blood boil. Whether she was drunk or not, Annie wasn’t sure how Steve was so forgiving.

She frowned, crossing her arms, "It's not your fault, you know."

"What's not?"

"Everything with Barb. It's not your fault that she was at a party you kind of invited her to. And it's not your fault that she left either. More importantly, it's not your fault that she died that way. You did nothing wrong, Steve. A monster did that, a monster you couldn't have possibly known about. Nancy's wrong about all that."

"What if she isn't?"

Annie turned to face Steve properly, "She is. Sure, maybe you were a dick a year ago, but that's not a crime. Your douchebaggery had nothing to do with Barb dying. I'm sure you never wanted her dead."

"No, never... fuck I just... I feel awful about it, but I couldn't tell anyone. I'm sure you won't be able to tell anyone after this is over either," he replied.

She let out a small yawn, "That's fine, but it's not like you're in this alone now."

"Yeah, I guess not. You should get some sleep though..."

It took almost no time for Annie to pass out. The events of the day were exhausting in their own oddly cruel way. She had nothing to do other than pass out. Though, she suddenly snapped awake right as the sun was starting to come up. It took her a moment to realize she fell asleep on Steve's shoulder. Not wanting any remarks from Dustin, she carefully made her way over to the recliner again.

This time when she woke up, it was because Dustin was shaking her awake. They had to get up and get started on their plan.

Steve groaned as he got up from where he sat, "Can you give us five more minutes?"

All Dustin gave them time for was a sorry excuse of a granola bar for breakfast and a few minutes to get ready. He didn't even give time for them to change clothes. So Annie spent her time brushing her hair and teeth. The nerve of this kid was more than likely going to be the death of her.

Dustin finally got a hold of his friend Lucas as the three of them grabbed the things they needed. The guys decided to throw the meat around and Annie was carrying her weapon and the gasoline.

Asking the butcher for a bunch of raw beef had been something Annie thought would derail the plan. However, they were given exactly what they needed without question. It made her wonder what else the guy had to give out to people.

She walked right behind Steve and Dustin as they tossed the meat along the train tracks. This was supposed to lead to the junkyard. Then, there was supposed to be a bus that they could reinforce so they could safely light Dart on fire. Whether that would actually work or not was beyond her. However, it was the one plan that all three of them were able to agree on.

Dustin was going on more about Dart since Steve asked. A story that was pretty much beyond both her and Steve. It was more lost on her since she woke up to those things crawling all over her. The last thing on her mind was keeping one for a pet. They were disgustingly slimy.

"So... you kept this thing to impress a girl?" Steve asked.

Dustin shrugged, "I guess."

"And what made you think that would work?"

"It's a new species, an inter-dimensional slug! It's awesome, who wouldn't be impressed by that?"

Steve sighed as he tossed another piece of meat on the ground, "Kid, I hate to break it to you, but that's not how you impress girls."

"Yeah, well we don't all have your hair," Dustin said.

Annie let out a laugh, knowing for a fact Steve spent more time on his hair than she did on hers that morning. In all fairness, there was something to be said for that. He looked good. Then again, he always had. The girls in her classes would not stop talking about that.

Steve rolled his eyes, "It's not about the hair. The trick with girls is just acting like you don't care."

"That's the shittiest idea I've heard in the last day," Annie remarked.

Ignoring the response he got, Steve went into how there would be a sexual electricity and that there were two types of girls. The kind who liked to have something fast and intense. Then, there were the girls who liked it when the guy went slow and stealthy. Like a ninja. Annie listened as the two of them talked, and she kept her shut when Dustin asked about Nancy. Although, there were plenty of things she had to say about that. Especially when Steve claimed Nancy was different.

Except, she wasn't different. Not really. And in all fairness, Annie wasn't sure that she was all that different from Nancy when it would come down to it. She wasn't all that different from most girls. Sure, maybe not every girl read at the rate she currently did, but she wouldn't be reading that much if she actually had someone to talk to. The point was, Nancy was just as much like the other girls at the school as she was. That would take too much to explain, though, so she kept her mouth shut.

Steve looked at Dustin, "Hold on, you're not falling in love with this girl are you?"

"What? No," he replied.

"Okay, good," he nodded, "'Cause she's only gonna break your heart and you're way too young for that shit."

"You know, giving shitty advice because your love life's going downhill isn't going to do anyone any good," Annie said, unable to keep her mouth shut, "Sorry... but if you really  wanna be with a girl, you have to find out what she likes and what you guys have in common. If a girl plays some stupid game of pretending to not care, it's not worth it."

Steve glared at her, "And you know so much about this stuff?"

"Um yeah, believe it or not I've had some experience. Plus, I'm a girl. Kinda makes my advice better by default since I know how girls actually work."

There was a pause between all of them. Annie knew she shouldn't have said anything about Nancy. It wasn't fair, but the advice Steve was giving was awful. That was how guys tried to treat her in the past and it always ended up hurting her more than it ever hurt the guy. She wasn't about to go into that, though. No one needed to know.

"Farbergé," Steve finally said.

"What?"

"Fabergé organics, that's what I use," he said, tossing another piece of meat, "And when your hair's damp. Not wet, damp."

"Damp."

"You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray. Now, you tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass, you're dead" he said before looking back at Annie, "That goes for you too, Hardwick."

Annie laughed, "You use the same stuff that my mom does. Not that it's bad or anything, it's cute, actually."

"Farrah Fawcett?" Dustin asked, shaking his head.

Steve shrugged, "I mean, she's hot."

After what felt like forever and a few different conversations later, the trio were in front of the junkyard. It was sunny, but Annie could already feel the breeze starting to bite through her green flannel. She hadn't thought to bring her jacket when she had been rushing to leave the house.

Steve took off his glasses, "This will work... Yeah, this will work just fine. Nice job, Henderson."

While Steve and Dustin put the last of the beef in a pile, a boy biked up with a girl on the back. With how the kids all looked at each other, Annie couldn't help thinking that this was the girl Dustin had been talking about.

They were arguing about the girl knowing about all this. That was when Lucas pointed to Annie.

"You told some random chick!" Lucas exclaimed.

"I didn't! Steve did!" Dustin yelled.

Annie waved her arms, "Hey, I'm literally right here. And for your information, I'm just as involved in this as everyone else. Give me a break."

The boys were more intent on arguing than helping to fortify the bus. Instead of worrying about them, Annie went over to a piece of metal that the redhead girl was trying to pick up.

"Here, let me help you out," Annie said, bending down to make it a bit easier.

The girl gave a small smile, "Thanks... um are you in on this prank?"

Annie helped to get the metal against the bus, "I wish it were a prank. Kinda hard to think that when I woke up and these slug things were crawling all over me yesterday."

"What?"

"Yeah, I guess they're from some other dimension and my house is kinda flip flopping dimensions or whatever," Annie sighed as they got another slab of metal to board up the windows of the bus.

Max shook her head, "I don't get why you're trying so hard... hey, you're kinda new here right?"

"Um... yeah, unfortunately. Why?"

"Nothing... just, heard about you or whatever. Being new kinda sucks."

Annie laughed, "I'll drink to that."

"So are your only friends really that Harrington guy and Dustin?"

"Pretty much."

Within a couple hours, Max and Annie wouldn't stop talking as they got the bus ready. There wasn't much time for conversation seeing as the sun was going down earlier and earlier every day, but the two of them were getting a lot done. So once Dustin and Lucas finally decided to help, the sun was going to start heading down soon.

By the time it was sunset, the gasoline was poured and they were all in the bus. Lucas had decided to scout the area, keeping an eye out for Dart. Wherever that monster could possibly be.

After an outburst between Dustin and Max, she left to go on the roof with Lucas. Annie watched as Steve played with his lighter and she also messed with the pocket knife she had in the pocket of her overalls.

"Hold up, you had that the whole time?" Steve asked.

Annie shrugged, "Yeah, why? You think I could use just this against some... glorified Audrey II?"

"Wait a what?"

"Audrey II? You know, Little Shop of Horrors, the musical?" she asked, "You know, 'little shop, little shop of horrors, little shop, little shop...' huh guess it’s just me."

Both Steve and Dustin stared at her.

"You guys need to get out more."

That was when Lucas screamed about the monster. Annie, Steve, and Dustin were all pressed against each other as they all tried to get a look. Sure enough, there it was. She didn't even know how to describe it as the thing walked around the pile of meat.

Steve shook his head, "It's not taking the bait. Why isn't it taking the bait?"

"Maybe it smells the gasoline?" Annie suggested.

He sighed, "Or maybe it's just tired of cow."

Annie's eyes widened as he went to pick up the bat.

"Wait, what're you doing?" Annie and Dustin asked at the same time.

Steve sighed, tossing the lighter to Annie, "Just light it up when the time's right and keep the kids safe."

Then, Steve turned and went out of the bus. There was no way there was just one of those things. That was too good to be true. Annie shook her head.

"'Keep the kids safe' my ass," Annie muttered before putting the lighter in Dustin's hands, "You got this, okay?"

Annie grabbed the pitchfork and slipped out of the bus quietly. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and her throat felt tight. What was she doing? This was dangerous and could easily get her killed, but she didn't care. Lucas started shouting about another one of the monsters and Annie rushed towards it, going to fight them off.

Steve and Annie were surrounded in no time, and Dustin was screaming for them to get back in. Everything was such a blur of lunging and stabbing that Steve had to tug her towards the bus.

There wasn't much for Annie to comprehend other than that she was sure she stabbed some of those monsters as Steve pulled her back into the bus. He was screaming something, and she was sure it was because she followed him out when he didn't want her to, but she didn't listen. Even when back in the safety of the bus, there wasn't a chance to say anything.

The monsters were trying to get into the bus and for a moment she could only watch in horror. Annie couldn't tell if she was screaming or if that was one of the kids.

"Annie, get it, do something!" Steve yelled before she stabbed at another one of the monsters trying to get in through the windows.

Steve threw a sheet of metal at the door to keep them out. It was quiet for a moment, but then there were thumps coming from the top of the bus. Annie's blood ran cold as she realized there was a way in through the top. They were done for. There were far too many monsters for just her and Steve to take care of.

Max was near the opening at the roof of the bus. Right as the monster appeared and opened its mouth in an odd venus flytrap way, she and Steve ran in front of the kids. This was it. Getting in front of the kids was going to be in vain, Annie knew that. She was sure Steve was aware too. That didn't stop him from yelling in the screaming creature's face.

All of a sudden, there wasn't any screaming. The monster's mouth closed and its head turned up towards the sky. Then, it turned around and left with the rest of the monsters. Annie let out a deep breath, realizing that they weren't dead yet.

"Do you think Steve scared it off?" Lucas asked as all of them slowly filed out of the bus.

Steve stepped out into the night, shaking his head, "No... no way, they're going somewhere."

Unsure of where that place was, all of them tried to follow anyway. The kids were a little bit in front, leaving Annie with only Steve to talk to. That was, if she could manage to comprehend what she just went through.

"So... are we really about to take these kids with us?" Annie asked.

He shrugged, "I guess. If we didn't, they would just follow us. These kids are persistent little shits. It's better they have someone to protect them."

"Because we did such a great job?"

"Hey, we did our best and you know it," he insisted.

The conversation didn't go any further because Dustin and Lucas were starting to argue. Steve didn't help by only confirming that Dustin did keep Dart.

Annie rolled her eyes, "If you guys don't get your shit together, then we're all going home right now, get it?!"

A shrieking in the distance stopped all of them from saying anything more. For a moment, Annie thought she screwed all of them over, but nothing came. They ended up following the noise out to a clearing. The monsters were going to the lab. A place Annie only knew about due to Steve telling her the night before.

It was a long walk, one where none of them really said anything. If nothing else, because they all knew that nothing good could come of all this. She was leading these kids into something more dangerous than she could even understand. How Steve was doing it without hesitation was beyond her. Maybe he wasn't thinking. It seemed like he was almost on autopilot the whole time.

They were soon getting closer to the lab and Annie heard someone calling out to them. Much to her surprise, it was none other than Nancy and Jonathan.

"Steve?" they both asked before Nancy looked at Annie, "Who're you?"

"Um I'm Annie," she replied, clutching onto her pitchfork.

There wasn't a whole lot of time for introductions as the lab seemed to be overrun with those monsters just as thought. It meant there wasn't even a chance for Annie to feel sorry for Steve as she started to put together Nancy's lack of jealousy and the way she looked at Jonathan. Especially when she was being thrown into a police cruiser minutes later.

Tag List (please let me know if you’d like to be added!): @dungeons-and-demodogs​ @ilovebucketbarnes​ @jxnehxpper​

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

Ghost Kid Chapter Twenty-Four: Stuck

Poking her head out through the hatch on top of the ship, Hat Kid saw something she thought she’d never see with her own eyes. The forest was green and vibrant with life. There were birds twittering somewhere, their song accompanying the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind. Up above, the sky was a vibrant blue, the sun shone down high in the sky. It was amazing!

 … Hat Kid had spent too much time solely in Subcon, huh? She’d been too nervous to go out, too busy as well at times. She hadn’t even told any of her other friends she was a ghost now. She really should’ve done that a while ago. … So, as soon as all this was sorted out, she’d ventured out and let everyone know. If any of them didn’t like her anymore as a ghost, that was… fine. But they all had a right to know and she wanted to see them again. For now, though…

She turned her head to look back up at Snatcher; he’d teleported up here. His arms were crossed and he looked very displeased by their surroundings. Subcon wasn’t cursed though which meant… “This is before your crazy ex froze everything.”

“Yep. Let’s just hope it’s a lot before then because trust me when I say it’s not something you want to witness kid.” True and it was also something he didn’t want to witness either for obvious reasons. “And I assume, we’re not allowed to change anything or the world might end, right?”

“Pretty much yeah. So… we can’t stop the thing with Vanessa.” A change that big would probably lead to the timeline destabilizing and thus an apocalypse would occur on the planet. “I’m sorry about that. If we could do it safely then…”

“Shut up kid,” Snatcher interrupted. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past, we can’t change it. We just need to fix this situation and then go home and never think about this again.”

Hat Kid sighed. Being able to time travel sucked when you couldn’t do anything with it without risking the fabric of the world falling apart because of it. They could witness events firsthand and not much more; great for historians, awful for everyone else.

“Let’s figure out what time period we’re in exactly,” she said because she couldn’t think of anything else to do. How were they supposed to get the Time Pieces back when they were in an unreachable place?

“We don’t need to do that,” Snatcher said. “Especially since you’re the one who said changing the timeline could end the world. Before the Big Freeze, ghosts weren’t common in Subcon. The wrong person spotting us could potentially change things. So we should avoid that possibility at all costs.”

He had a point but… that was no fun. Hat Kid never would’ve gone here on her own but given the opportunity by force, she wanted to see for herself what Subcon had been like before everything went to shit because of Vanessa. Surrounded by life and filled with curiosity, she couldn’t even stay as mad as she should’ve been at Mu and Moonjumper. So…

“What else are we going to do though? We can’t get to the horizon to take back the Time Pieces. Are we going to just sit around twiddling our thumbs while we wait for Moonjumper to just give the Time Pieces back to us? There’s unfortunately nothing active we can do to fix that particular problem right now. So, how about we use this as a learning opportunity? You teach me how to shapeshift to help disguise myself so people can’t tell I’m a ghost. And then we walk around maintaining that subterfuge while also learning about the time period we’re in.”

“I doubt you have enough power to shapeshift, it takes more magic than you’d think it would even just to shapeshift legs.” Snatcher was finding more excuses to just sit around. Which would be the smarter move but Hat Kid wasn’t about that kind of thing and neither was he. She knew him well enough by now to know just like her, he should be filled with the need to be doing something even if it wasn’t particularly helpful.

Of course, he probably also didn’t want to go around his beloved forest and see how it used to be. It was likely full of painful memories for him and being here was probably making him uncomfortable. There wasn’t much Hat Kid could do for him though, was there? Which was a real shame after everything he continued to do for her. So maybe she should listen to him. He was officially her mentor after all, basically her guardian at this point. And he was right about avoiding interacting with anyone being a smart move because it could change things, not super likely to be a big deal but not impossible either. Ugh! This sucked!

She groaned, looking around the forest. Without Snatcher’s vines holding it up, the ship had fallen to the forest floor. It wasn’t a long drop though so it should be fine. “It would probably be bad if anyone came across the ship. So can we at least patrol around it and steer anyone who nears it away?” That way she could at least look around a small section of the forest and maybe something would happen.

“I have a better idea.” Snatcher snapped and suddenly they were in his pocket dimension. Still on top of the ship though, he’d somehow brought it in as well. “Now there’s zero chance we’ll affect the timeline in any way.”

Hat Kid groaned but… “Yeah, fine, you’re right. Risking changing things would be bad, especially since we don’t have the Time Pieces.”

He grinned smugly down at her, making her half tempted to throw something at him. Before he could say anything though and make her want to throw something at him even more, she continued.

“We can’t solve the Time Piece and probable apocalypse problem from in here though.”

That killed some of his smugness. “We’ll figure something out.” At least he seemed confident about that so perhaps they would.

***

Part of Mu wanted to be mad at how angry Hat Kid had been at her, especially after she’d just said she’d been trying to undo Hat Kid’s death; she deserved some leniency for trying, right? So she probably would’ve been deeply offended if it wasn’t for the other thing Hat Kid had said, the thing about the end of the world

If that was true, it would certainly explain why Hat Kid was against using the Time Pieces they way Mu wanted to. Why didn’t she say so before though? … Because Mu wouldn’t have believed her; she’d have chalked it up to a lie told to justify Hat Kid being selfish. But… did she believe it now? Hat Kid had sounded serious about it and she’d implied if she could, she’d have used the Time Pieces to undo the accident herself, which ruled out her lying due to being selfish.

But… if it was true then Mu couldn’t use the Time Pieces to stop the accident or the Mafia coming to the island or anything else. She didn’t want the world to end, she wanted to make it a better place, to stop all the bad guys and bad things from happening. … What was she supposed to do then? Keep going and hope Hat Kid was wrong or… give up?

She looked up at Moonjumper. He was studying the ball of Time Pieces, seemingly unphased by the predicament they might be in. Heck, when the end of the world had been mentioned, he’d seemed only mildly surprised and possibly interested.

“Do you think they could really end the world,” she asked because who else could she ask stuck here on the horizon surrounded by fog and clouds.

He didn’t look up from studying the Time Pieces. “I don’t know. I’ve never encountered magic like this before, it is quite intriguing. I wouldn’t automatically believe Hat Kid though.  While at first glance it may seem being the owner of these must mean she knows all about them: how they work, what all they could be used for, and any pitfalls that might come with their use, that might not actually be the case. She is only a child after all. Children aren’t typically the experts on anything. She may just be drawing conclusions based off of incomplete information. Or perhaps, she’s been lied to. They function as fuel for her ship, correct? Perhaps to prevent her from messing with them, adults lied and told her using them for time travel might result in the world ending. So it’s possible we could use them to fix everything and nothing bad will happen as a result.”

He kind of had a point. They had only Hat Kid’s words to go by and she could theoretically be wrong, right? It was a lot to risk though. … Ugh! Why did everything have to be hard all of a sudden? Mu’s plan had been perfect but the possible dangers of time travel just had to come in and mess it up. It was no fair and all kinds of stupid.

“We will have to test it for ourselves to know for sure,” Moonjumper continued. “In theory, we can go anywhere in the time with these. We can right all the wrongs of the world, starting of course with the Mafia and Hat Kid’s tragic death.”

Mu still wasn’t sure but… he seemed confident that it would be fine. And he was a magical being of some sort, he probably had a better grasp on high magic items like the Time Pieces than she did. … “Are we going to leave Hat Kid and Snatcher here?” She didn’t like that idea but going back to get them would result in a fight, right? Could Moonjumper beat Snatcher? With Hat Kid a ghost Mu probably couldn’t take her so Moonjumper would have to defeat both of them.

“I’m sure they’ll live.” He grinned at his own dumb joke like a moron. “They’ll only try to fight us if we return to them and thus it’s not worth it. Let’s go, shall we?” He gestured to the ball of Time Pieces. “We have some bad guys to take down.”

Well, the longer they delayed the more Mu would want to hesitate and she’d already thrown everything she’d had into this, she couldn’t back down now. So… “Yeah, let’s go.”

Previous /  Next

[citrinekay]

I've had a prompt rolling around in my brain the past couple of days, I keep thinking of Holden's car breaking down in the rain, and he has to make his way to a payphone, and he calls Bill, because he doesn't know who else to call. I keep thinking about Bill being worried he'll get sick because he's soaking wet. Sorry if this is disjointed sending asks gives me anxiety >>

Nothing to worry about at all, hon. This makes perfect sense to me! Here you go, hope you enjoy 💕

Holden’s father had instilled a healthy respect for car maintenance in him from a young age, and he considers himself a responsible person when it comes to his possessions; but some things just can’t be foreseen. There were no warning signs, no little lights popping up on his dash to tell him that something was wrong, but still, as his car sputters out on the side of the road, he figures this is somehow his fault. 

It’s late evening on a Friday, the ragged conclusion of a long week out of state on consult. It’s no more than a thirty minute drive between the airport and his apartment, but his little Nova, which up until this very moment had been trustworthy and faithful, couldn’t make it that far. On top of everything else, it’s raining. Not a mist or a drizzle, but a deluge that rolls from the rumbling sky in unrelenting gusts that don’t appear to be stopping anytime soon.

 As the engine clicks and dies on the gravel shoulder of the road, Holden leans his forehead against the steering wheel to brace back a wave of tearful dismay. Not only does he usually leave car repair up to knowledgeable professionals, but he’d also been looking forward to crawling into his own bed after an arduous week spent tracking down a pedophile and murderer. 

A rift of anger rises up from his sudden despair, and he leans back to strike the wheel with the heel of his hand. 

“Fuck!” The curse chokes from his throat, punctuating the steady drum of rain against the metal exterior of the car. 

He breathes heavily into the silence for a long moment until the initial rush of panic and alarm fades. He tries to think clearly about his options. He should call someone. But who? It’s much too late for shops to be open, and he doesn’t want to call the police department and create a scene. He could call a cab, but that might take awhile. And before he can pursue any of those options, he has to find a phone to even call from first.

Holden rubs his tired eyes, and scans the street. 

He knows where he is. Just think … Payphone. The corner of Mission Street and Jackson Road. Two blocks away. 

“Fuck.” Holden says, aloud, again. 

He’s exhausted, and he doesn’t want to walk two blocks in the pouring down rain; but what other choice does he have?

Gathering his collar up around his neck, Holden draws in a deep breath, and shoulders his way out of the vehicle. The rain is coming down so hard that he’s almost instantly soaked, his hair drenched and plastered to his head, his trench coat barely concealing his shivering body from the biting gust of cold wind and stinging droplets. 

For a moment, he thinks about climbing back into his car and waiting it out, but he doesn’t want to face the possibility of the rainstorm persisting through the night. Putting his head down, he trudges away from his car in the direction of Jackson Road. 

The shoulder of the street is washed out in the rain, creating a treacherous obstacle course of sliding gravel, loosened rocks, miry sludge, and muddy puddles, two of which he manages to step directly into. It’s difficult to see with his eyes squinting shut against the driving rain and the scarce streetlamps lining this particular strip of deserted asphalt. 

If his car had broken down just two blocks later, he would have been in a much better position. There’s a tavern and gas station at the intersection along with the payphone, some sign of civilization that this forested stretch of road where he’s abandoned is absent of. 

Holden clenches his jaw and drags his coat more tightly around himself as a fresh clench of frustration seizes his chest. Part of him wants to sit down on the side of the road just to rest his trembling legs, but he pushes on, determined to get to the payphone in as little time as possible. 

Eventually, he approaches Jackson Road, a darkened street of shops with only the neon blow of the tavern sign smudged against the black sky in rain-drizzled reds and greens to light the way. Across the street, the gas station with two sad pumps is illuminated by a few overhead lights that attract more insects than people at this time of night. The phone booth stands like a beacon at the corner of the intersection, interior lit by a single, bare bulb. 

Holden rushes to the payphone, relief washing through his chest. The sliding door protests on rusty, jammed hinges as he grabs the handle, and it takes a few forceful pulls to get it open far enough for him to slip inside. 

The steady, cold patter of rain on his cheeks cuts off abruptly as he stumbles into the glass enclosure. Bracing a hand against one wall, he draws in a shuddering breath and tries to subdue the bone-deep, chilled shiver running through his body. 

His relief lasts bare seconds. Now what?

Turning to the pay phone, Holden tucks his hand in his pocket to search for coins. As he sorts out the quarters, he bites anxiously at his lower lip. The booth has no telephone book, and he doesn’t know any numbers for a cab off the top of his head. Nervously jostling the quarters in his hand, he glances down at his watch. 

10:35. Christ, it’s late. 

Holden presses his eyes shut as a solution rises in the back of his mind. He can feel rain dripping from his hair and sluicing down his cheeks, absorbing through his clothes to chill his skin. His belly shudders from deep inside and his feet hurt, cold and miserable from the long walk in the storm. He’s stranded, and he doesn’t have any other choice. 

Shoving aside his nerves, Holden feeds the quarters into the narrow slot and listens to them fall to the bottom with a metallic clatter. He picks up the phone, and slowly dials the number he knows by heart. 

As he listens to the shrill ring of the phone, he feels a sudden wave of emotion crawl up the back of his throat. He’s thinking rapidly and all at once: Please pick up. Please don’t be mad. Please help me. And finally: Well, this is just fucking pathetic, isn’t it? 

The phone rings six times, and he thinks about hanging up. He could call the operator and get a cab service. He could call the police and they would be more than happy to send someone out - it’s their job after all. His anxiety is about to overwhelm him when the repetitive tone cuts off, and the line rustles with movement.

“Hello?” Bill’s voice is muted and raspy with confusion. 

“Bill.” Holden says, pressing his eyes shut. His cheeks flush with heat that competes with the chill of the rain. 

“Holden?” Bill’s sleepy confusion quickly breaks out into concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry it’s late. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“What’s going on?”

“I, um … I just got back into town, and my car broke down, if you can believe it.” Holden says, a nervous chuckle rising from the back of his throat. 

“Oh, man, talk about shit luck. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. I just …”

“Where are you?”  

“Well, my car broke down back on Ellis, but I’m at the payphone at Mission and Jackson.”

“Shit, it’s raining cats and dogs. I hope you didn’t walk all that way.”

“How else would I have gotten here?”

“Jesus, you must be freezing.” Bill says, his tone taking on a note of worry. “Stay inside. I’m on my way.”

“Thanks. And I’m really sorry about this. I know it’s late and it’s an inconvenience and-”

“Don’t worry about it. Now the sooner we get off here the sooner I can come pick you up.”

“Right.”

“Okay, stay put. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Thanks, Bill.”

“Yep.” Bill says, quickly, before hanging up. 

Holden puts the phone down, and leans back against the cold glass partition. Relief surges through his chest at the prospect of not having to walk one more foot in the rain, but despite Bill’s eagerness to help, he’s still anxious. Ever since Atlanta, they’ve been walking around on egg-shells with each other. Holden doesn’t want to intrude on Bill’s privacy as he goes through his divorce, and Bill seems too focused on his own problems and work to regard Holden’s tenuous grasp on his panic disorder. He’d never wanted to be a nuisance or create problems he couldn’t solve on his own. He’d never wanted to be babysat, or for anyone to think he needed supervision - but apparently he had; and now he’s facilitating yet another situation that Bill is required to pull him out of. He wants to pick the phone back up and call just to say “You’re not mad about this, are you?” But Bill has probably already left the house. 

Drenched and shivering, Holden cowers in the phone booth for the next fifteen minutes until he sees Bill’s car through the smudged pane of glass. 

Bill pulls up at the curb, and climbs out of the car. Rain dampens his hair and the shoulders of his trench coat as he pulls a blanket out of the passenger’s seat and carries it across the sidewalk to where Holden is slipping out of the booth. 

“Thanks for coming.” Holden says, blinking against the surge of rain. “You brought me a blanket?”

“Yeah. Jesus, look at you.” Bill says, his brow pinching with worry as he unfurls the blanket. 

Lowering his head, Holden revels in quiet disbelief as Bill drapes the blanket around his shoulders, and draws it closed at his chest. 

“Come on, you’re going to catch a cold.” Bill says, his hand bracing against the middle of Holden’s back to lead him towards the car. 

Holden quietly lets Bill guide him to the passenger’s side and hold the door open for him. Slipping into the vehicle, Holden lets out a shuddering sigh of relief at the warm air blasting from the dashboard vents. 

Bill jogs around the hood of the car, and climbs behind the wheel. When he pulls the door shut behind him, the interior falls into silence except for their muted, heavy breathing, and the quiet sound of Holden’s teeth shivering against one another. 

“You okay?” Bill asks. 

“Yeah.” Holden whispers, his voice unsteady with a chilled tremor.

 He slips his eyelids open to peek across the car at Bill. His face is illuminated in the pale light from the dashboard, rain-slick lips pursed into a grim line of worry, his usually perfectly combed hair flattened with the rain. He doesn’t look angry.

“I’m really sorry about this.” Holden whispers, drawing the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “It’s so late-”

“I said not to worry about it.” Bill says, firmly but gently. “Frankly, I’d be more upset if I found out later that this happened and you didn’t call me.”

Holden glances back down at his lap where his numb fingers are white-knuckled around the blanket. It has that foreign smell of someone else’s house lightly concealed by the ashy sting of cigarettes. Abruptly, he feels like crying again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bill asks. 

Holden nods, pressing his eyes shut. “I’m just really tired.”

“Okay, let’s get you home.” 

Holden turns his face toward the window where the storm outside continues to rage. The car softly lurches into motion as a tear stings the corner of his eye. He lifts his chin against his cheek to let the emotion absorb into the soft microfiber of the blanket along with the rain. It takes him just as long the drive back to his apartment for him to realize that he isn’t just overwrought or extremely tired, but relieved - as if he’s been holding his breath since Atlanta, waiting for everything to spill over between them, waiting for Bill’s disapproval to come crashing down on his fragile shoulders. It hasn’t come, and apparently it never will; he’s been shadowboxing with lying ghosts. 

At his apartment, Bill shuts off the engine, and climbs out of the car. Holden steps out onto the street on the other side, letting the blanket slide from his shoulders. 

“I’ll walk you in.” Bill says.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Bill circles around the car, his expression determined and unwavering. He waves a finger at the drooping blanket. “Come on, put that back on.”

“It’s yours, I don’t want to take it.”

“You know how long that thing has been sitting in my closet for?” Bill asks, pulling the blanket back up around Holden’s neck. He nods toward the building. “Come on, the blanket is the least of my worries. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Holden doesn’t protest again as Bill leads them across the street to the lobby. He punches in the door code with cold, shivering fingers that he quickly sticks back underneath the blanket when the door unlocks. 

In the elevator, neither of them say a word, but Bill’s hand is tucked loosely against Holden’s lower back. It’s not grabbing or forceful, just resting there almost protectively. When Holden closes his eyes, he can feel the weight of it more than the bone-chilled shivers running all the way to the core of his body. 

Holden leads the way to his door, and drags his keys out of pocket with numb fingers. 

“You should get out of those wet clothes right away.” Bill says, quietly.

Holden nods. “I will.”

“Good. The last thing we need is you catching a cold or pneumonia.”

“Yeah.” Holden mutters, jiggling his key in the lock. 

“Hey,” Bill says, touching his elbow. 

Holden glances up from the lock, and Bill’s eyes are soft in the low light of the corridor, worried and unaccusing. 

“We need you.” He says, “So take care of yourself, okay?”

Holden’s throat tightens, and he nods. Shrugging his shoulders to indicate the blanket, he says, “I’ll get this back to you on Monday.”

“Sure. Keep it if you want.” 

Holden frowns softly as Bill gives him a pat on the back, and moves past him back in the direction of the elevator. 

“Let me know if you need a ride to work on Monday.” He says. 

“Thanks, I will.”

“Okay, see you then.”

Holden stands with his key in the lock as he watches Bill amble down the hall back towards the elevator. A slight smile tugs at his mouth. 

When Bill is out of sight, he gets the door open, and slips into his apartment with a sigh of relief. 

First, he drapes the blanket over the arm of the couch, and takes off his wet clothes. When he’s in clean, dry pajamas, he goes into the kitchen to boil water for tea, and as the kettle warms, shuffles into the living room where the discarded blanket is lying. Picking it up, momentarily holds it to his nose, and closes his eyes as he inhales the lingering, warm smell underneath the rain. If he washes it, that scent will be gone. 

Carrying the blanket into his bedroom, Holden uses clothespins to hang it from the curtain rod to dry. Faint light from the streetlamp filters through the microfiber, casting a soft, pinkish glow across his room. The cold in his bones is almost entirely melted away, and he feels warm again. 

[nervyghost]

Back in all of my glory with another chapter of  @littlekiwifrog ‘s Turned good AU! This one (like the last chapter) got crazy long, but it mostly did so because I wanted to write something with the rest of the losers. (Cursing, as per usual with these losers) I’m tagging @da-chubby-burb as my lovely beta, and just before I begin, I wanted to ask if any of you wanted to be on my tag list.

Yep! You heard it! I’m starting a tag list, so if anyone wants to be added, shoot me a PM and I’ll be more than hapy to throw your name into the next one! That’s it from me, enjoy the chapter!

Bill hammered on his younger brother’s door for what had to be the thirtieth time that morning, his patience wearing thin as seconds ticked by. “JUH-GEORGIE! C’MON!” He shouted irritably. The sound of bedsheets being torn off of a mattress followed his words, causing him to add: “If you’re not out here in f-f-five minutes, I’m leaving wi-without you!” There was a crash from within the room along with the sound of clothes hitting the floor with a panicked sort of haste. Bill smiled and shook his head fondly, knowing full well that his brother was nowhere near ready to go and meet the gang.

Richie was hardly ever on time anyway, and Georgie was practically stuck to the other boy’s side whenever they were in the same room, when he wasn’t asking Stan a thousand questions about birds. Both would complain sometimes, but Bill knew they both secretly loved the attention the seven-year-old was more than willing to give them. Before he could become too lost in his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the door decorated with turtles and banged on it again, harder this time. “Suh-sometime today!”

“COMING!” Georgie hollered. Bill listened as the banging noises became more frantic, less spaced out, and altogether hectic as the boy within fought with his pajamas and tugged on his clothes. With a final creak of protest from the floorboards, Georgie emerged in all of his glory, his hair swept awkwardly across his face to obscure his bright eyes. He was quick to brush his bangs out of his eyes and look up at Bill with a grin on his face.

He tugged at the strings of his yellow hoodie before striding forward, trying- unsuccessfully- to hide his excitement. “I’m ready to go, Billy!” He chirped. Bill shook his head firmly.

“Guh-go eat something.” Georgie’s face fell near instantly.

“You’re going without me?” Bill snorted and leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

“Course not.” He reassured him. “But you sh-should eat something first.” Georgie looked ready to argue but Bill silenced him by turning on his heel and striding in the direction of the door. “I’m j-just going to fuh-fix Silver up a bit, okay?”

“Okay.” Georgie seconded, running to Bill’s side to grab him around the waist and stare up at him with his big brown eyes. “Promise?” He asked. Bill smiled.

“Of cuh-course.” Georgie grinned up at him. Bill almost felt bad for crossing his fingers behind his back as the younger boy bounded to the parlor to snag a muffin.

Bill knew he wouldn’t have long to wait before he was back at his side, so he quickened his step, letting his feet carry him out of the front door and to the pair of bikes parked neatly out front, looking like two dogs waiting for their masters to return. Bill ran his hands over Silver’s rusted frame. “Not yet.” He whispered to it, letting his fingers run over the dents in the handlebars before pulling away. Silver was in pristine condition, as always. The bike he was worried about, was Georgie’s.

He stared at it, wondering idly if it would disappear before his very eyes, but the bike remained, its blue paint gleaming in the sunlight as it waited for Bill to touch it. It seemed to call to him, which was ridiculous. It was a bike, not some sort of child-eating-demon. Bill still couldn’t bring himself to even touch it, the smell of what he knew wasn’t popcorn clinging to it like a foul musk to a wild animal. He had to take a deep breath before laying his hand on the cheery paint, just to calm his racing heart. It was stupid, really, to be afraid of a bike. He hated that he had to fight to convince himself that was true.

He knelt next to it and poked at the spokes, his eyes scanning the chain for any kinks or breaks in the metal. He ran his finger along the edge and inspected it further, the links cool on his hands. He pulled away with hesitance, wiping the grease stains on his hands across his pants, leaving twin smears across his jeans. He hardly batted an eye, standing to feel the seat instead, searching for anything sharp, not wanting to be responsible for anything bad happening to the kid.

He almost wanted to find something, just to prove to Georgie that Penny was nothing more than imaginary, but the lack of anything dangerous was driving him up the wall.

And, it still didn’t explain how it ended up in his bedroom with a red balloon. He didn’t want to admit how long he had stared at the red balloon, a feeling of dread causing his stomach to twist into a tight knot of sheer fear, the room near electric. The hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end as though Georgie had left his window open.

He hadn’t.

As he further inspected the bike, he couldn’t hold back more skeptical thoughts regarding Georgie’s friend. It was impossible for it to have brought the bike back, and Georgie wasn’t one to lie. Bill had no trouble believing that the Bowers gang had attacked his little brother, it had happened enough times. But the part that he was finding hard to swallow was the fact that the bike had been returned. Someone would’ve noticed if their house was broken into, surely. And for the intruder to be carrying a bike? It just didn’t make sense.

But, as his hands wandered up and down the pristine bike, he came to his conclusion. The bike, was just that. A bike. A blue bike that somehow had magically appeared in his younger brother’s room after being tossed into the river.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door behind him swung open on squealing hinges. He threw his leg over Silver’s sturdy frame and rested on the seat, watching with a forced smile as Georgie galloped over to his own ride.

“I had a muffin!” He proclaimed.

“Knew it.” Bill booted the kickstand into place and began to pedal forward. “C’mon, or R-Richie will beat us th-there!” That was all the convincing Georgie needed to spur the bike forward and out of their yard. Bill looked toward the road as Silver began to pick up speed and he stood up on the pedals, loving the feeling of wind in his hair. He let it blow all thoughts of ‘Mr. Penny’ out of his head, and with every noise of metal-on-metal that Silver let out, he felt just a little better about- well, everything.

He would never admit it, of course, but on the day Georgie had gone out all alone with his little paper boat, something inside of him just screamed that his brother was in danger. And not just in danger of a fall, or a bruised forehead, no. Bill was almost certain that something absolutely horrifying was going to happen to Georgie while he had been immobilized by fever. It was stupid, really, but the fear gluing him to the bed had felt so real, so cold and sharp, he was positive that he’d never see Georgie again. He didn’t want to admit how he had stared at the ceiling and said a silent prayer for his brother’s safe return as the piano downstairs played the tune Für Elise. It seemed to last for hours. Hours of waiting to hear Georgie’s screams from the window. Days of wanting to be anything but as useless as he was. Years of feeling his head burn and sweat drip down his back.

And then- Georgie had come home. Wet and waterlogged, but with a joy that warmed him from head to toe. He would never admit to practically leaping down all the stairs in a single bound when he heard his brother call him down.

He wasn’t even mad about the boat, not really. It was only his cold that stopped him from scooping his brother up in his arms and holding him close, just for a second. He’d be able to blame it on being more than a little loopy off his meds (As they all knew Eddie had been in the past) and that would be that.

“Wait!” Bill slammed on the brakes and nearly went flying over the handlebars as Silver screeched to a stop. He shot Georgie a dirty look.

“Wh-What the hell, Georgie?” He snapped. Georgie looked a little bit sheepish as he dismounted and began to pull his bike toward Bill, crossing the arguably large distance between them until he was at his brother’s side.

“Could you slow down a little?” He asked, looking as though he was asking Bill to carry out his own death sentence. Bill’s glare turned into a soft smile.

“Course.” He slid off of Silver’s seat with ease and began to walk his beast of a bike, Georgie’s looking ever so small in comparison. The small grin he earned as a reward was more than enough to make up for being late.

“So,” Georgie looked at the passing houses as he spoke, a hundred unsaid thoughts rushing about in his head. “Why exactly did Richie call you in a panic last night?” Bill let out a small laugh.

“They went to the N-Neibolt house, H-Him and Bev.”

“Why?” Bill shrugged.

“D-Dunno. Riche was too puh-panicked to say an-anything other than fuh-fuck and shit. It’s a w-wonder I got anything out of him at all.”

“Why was he panicked?” Georgie asked. Bill hesitated for a moment before deciding to be truthful.

“Well, I couldn’t guh-get much out of him, y-you know T-Trashmouth. Buh-but, he said that it always seemed ruh-really creepy to him, juh-just the whole place, y’know?” Georgie nodded. “An-Anyway, th-they said it was no-normal, except for the smell.”

“The smell?” Georgie echoed.

“L-Like something from the o-old drainage tunnel. Se-sewer water.” He knew that his brother wouldn’t sleep that night, but he hardly cared. “And downstairs, B-Bev and Richie kept s-saying that they were hearing this creepy n-nursery rhyme about oranges? M-Mike said it was super old, like from the seventeen-hundred-”

“Oh, Billy! Wait a sec!” Georgie rolled his bike to a stop and pushed down the kickstand of his bike. Bill watched him slide off of the seat and reach into his pocket, fumbling for a moment before his hand closed around something. “Mr. Penny?” He asked, a small grin finding his face. “Thanks for getting my bike back!” Bill could’ve sworn he saw something glimmer in the dark opening, but once he blinked, it was gone. That same feeling of unease began to creep back into his bones as his brother drew a small bag of popcorn from his pocket, along with a couple of hot cocoa packets. “I brought you some popcorn since yours blew away in that storm! And some hot cocoa packets ‘cause I bet it gets cold down there.” Bill smiled softly as Georgie rested the offerings in the leaves.

He shot Bill an innocent smile as he straddled his bicycle once more, only stopping to say a cheerful: “Hope you like them! Bye, Mr. Penny!” over his shoulder. The two pedaled forward a few feet before Bill spoke again.

“You really th-think that your imaginary f-friend from the sewers is the one that b-brought your bike back?” Georgie nodded enthusiastically.

“How else did it get in my room with a red balloon? I just wanted to say thank you.” Adding under his breath: “And he’s not imaginary.” Bill rolled his eyes, the near-horrific prickling sensation in his stomach completely forgotten.

“F-Fine.That just better not have been the k-kettle-corn from the fair.” Georgie began to pedal faster, Bill keeping pace easily astride Silver.

“I only took some of it.”

“G-Georgie!” Georgie, however, had already shot ahead a few feet, his legs pumping madly as he raced along the street. Bill grit his teeth and pedaled harder.

Had either of them turned to look back, they would’ve seen a pair of gloved hands reach up from the sewer and delicately grab the offerings, pulling them into the darkness.

Georgie kept shooting glances over his shoulder at Bill, cackling madly in a way that only a seven-year-old child can. He wasn’t even mad, not really. He just wanted to get into the competitive spirit, and what better way to do it than to race his sibling to the Barrens?

“Shit and shinola!” He heard Georgie shout as Silver’s huge front tire began to overlap his shadow. Bill grinned, standing up on the pedals and coasting past Georgie with ease.

“I’m g-going to beat you th-” This time, it wasn’t his stutter that caused him to stop. He was stopped by a sharp cry of:

“Look out!” from Georgie. Bill slammed on the brakes for the second time that morning and felt the back tire begin to skid out of control, leaving a black line on the street in its wake. He screeched to a halt, his heart hammering heavily in his ears, but-

Georgie began to cackle and he shot past Bill, nothing more than a blue blur. “Gotcha!” He crowed. If looks could kill, Georgie would have winked out of existence in an instant, leaving his bike to freewheel right off the road.

“You little sh-shit!” Bill leapt off of Silver and grabbed the handlebars, putting his head down like that of a charging bull as he tried to coax Silver out of its dormant state. He began to barrel forwards, the clink clink clink of the chains beneath him drilling into his skull. Forcing himself to breathe evenly, he kept on pedaling, sweat beading on his brow even though the morning was cold. His hot breath fogged up the air and he lowered his head, giving Silver one more good kick to keep it going as he stood on the pedals once more. He could see Georgie’s bike wobbling and pushed himself to keep on pedaling like a crazy person.

Georgie looked over his shoulder and Bill grinned as his face drained completely of color. “Gotta be fuh-faster than that!” He taunted as he crept ever closer. Georgie squealed in response and stood up on the pedals. Bill didn’t do so much as slow down.

“Bill!” Georgie shouted. Bill stuck out his tongue as he zipped past.

“Gonna b-beat ‘ya!” He knew he was the textbook definition of a big brother when he rolled into the Barrens, a huge, somewhat cocky grin in place on his face. Georgie wasn’t too far behind, but even though he was tired, it couldn’t stop the scowl that slid onto his face.

“Cheater.” He huffed, sliding off of his bike so he could properly cross his arms. Bill playfully knocked shoulders with him.

“I’m n-not the one who caused the uh-other to slam on the buh-brakes.” He quipped. Georgie sighed, but Bill could see the small smile on his lips. “Cuh-come on, the others are probably waiting.” That caused Georgie to stop hiding his smile.

“Really?” Bill didn’t have time to respond before his suspicions were confirmed.

“Oh, come on!” Richie’s voice rang through the trees. “I’m not going to die, Eds! It’s a leaf, for fuck’s sake!” Bill grinned and began to quicken his pace in the direction of the shout, already able to see flashes of Richie’s eye-bleedingly bright Hawaiian T-shirt through the trees.

Bill was about to turn to Georgie to prompt him in the direction of the gang, but the boy was already bounding ahead, the strings of his yellow hoodie bobbing unevenly on his chest. It didn’t take him long to follow close behind. The scene he walked into was one that instantly caused his already wide smile to stretch impossibly wider.

Eddie was standing on a tree stump, pointing an accusing finger at Richie as he yelled something unintelligible about diseases and animal shit, hands fiddling weakly with his inhaler. Mike however, was his polar opposite, leaning forward and tapping his fingers on his thighs, eyes fixated on the object of Eddie’s discomfort.

“You can’t just eat leaves!” Eddie shrieked, “You’re going to give me a fucking asthma attack!” Ben was laughing so hard he could hardly make any noise, his shoulders shaking with frenzied giggles. Bill could practically hear Stan roll his eyes. Richie looked up at Georgie with the biggest shit-eating grin that he had ever seen, a leaf hanging from between his lips.

“Why are you eating a leaf?” Georgie questioned between giggles. Richie held up one finger, causing Eddie to gag.

“If you swallow it, you’re dead to me.” He threatened. Richie shrugged.

“I’m already dead if I eat this anyway, if what you say is true.” He managed to say around a mouthful of plant.Stan choked on the laughter he was holding back, letting it out in a sort of gasping bark.

“Suicide attempt,” he wheezed “I can see the headlines: Local boy killed by leaf.”

“T-Tragedy.” Bill agreed. Georgie was already at Richie’s side, peering curiously at the boy who was now doubled over, holding up his glasses with one hand to keep them from falling off.

“What’re you doing?” Richie made an exaggerated gulping noise and Eddie let out a high-pitched whine.

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie’s voice was nearing a screech now, sounding just a little more frantic. He turned his wide-eyed gaze to Stan. “Did he fucking swallow it?” Stan shook his head.

“Not yet.” Georgie’s eyebrows knit together.

“What’s he doing?” Mike chuckled.

“This loser,” He pointed to Richie, causing the accused to lay a hand over his heart dramatically. “Was pretending to lick a leaf, which, of course, set Eddie off.” Stan nodded, brushing a few stray curls behind his ear before continuing Mike’s narrative.

“And so Eddie’s ranting on and on about-” He laughed, cutting himself off. He had to brace himself against a tree until his frenzied giggles stopped. “About how you can get some disease-”

“Not a disease,” Eddie cut in. “Poison. Deadly poison.” Richie rolled his eyes dramatically and began to tip his head back. “SWEAR TO GOD, RICH!”

“Right,” Stan continued, “That. Anyway, that led to Richie saying, and I quote-” Richie grinned widely.

“I’ve got this one, my man.” Richie cleared his throat, but momentarily forgot that his mouth was full of leaves. This, of course, led to him inhaling a mouthful of leaves and gagging as one got stuck in his throat. Eddie instantly began prancing about on his stump whilst screaming:

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Richie hammered on his chest once and coughed feebly.

“I said-” He croaked. Bill cringed as something green dripped from Richie’s mouth. Richie followed Bill’s gaze and tried to wipe it from his chin with little success, leaving a bright smear across his jawline. “I said-” He tried again, only managing to make it worse, to everyone except Eddie’s amusement. “That-” A gob of something green was visible between his two front teeth. Georgie giggled, which of course, caused Richie to grin wider. Eddie gagged again. “That I could probably eat five of them and be fine, because they’d taste better than his Mom did last night.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Mike warned, jutting his chin out in the direction of Georgie. Richie waved him off.

“He’s fine, right Georgie?”

“Yep!” Bill rolled his eyes and moved to sit beside Mike.

“How long’s huh-he been ch-chewing on those?” Mike flashed him a wide grin.

“Few minutes? Eddie can probably give you the time to the second.” They both leaned forward as Richie turned back to Eddie. “I wish we had popcorn.” Mike mumbled. Bill covered his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter.

“You know what,” Eddie threw his hands up in the air and stalked over to where Bill sat. “It’s your funeral.” This sent both Ben and Stan back into hysterics. Richie surveyed his audience with a gleam in his eyes that made Bill more than a little bit nervous. It was the signature Trashmouth look, the ‘Hey, look at me!’ sort of look he usually put on when he was about to do something stupid. Bill wasn’t wrong.

With a theatrical sort of flourish, he tipped his head back and swallowed the leaves in one gulp. Eddie looked like he wanted to scream.

“You’re disgusting.” He spat. Richie shrugged.

“Maybe so.” He licked his lips and Bill noticed that his tongue was tinted with a toxic looking green. “Still tasted better than your Mom did last night.” With that, he bent at the waist and bowed low, holding up his glasses with a green stained finger to keep them from falling off of his nose. Georgie applauded enthusiastically while Ben and Stan hooted their approval. Eddie glared at Richie until the giggles coming from the rest of the losers ceased.

“As much as I cherish every moment spent with you,” He growled. “I really hope this isn’t the reason you called me, and my mother while doing a god awful Mexican-”

“Pancho Vanilla, senor.” He corrected, but his smile faded with his next words. “No,” He broke off into nervous laughter. “God, I wish.” Something about Richie’s tone of voice made Bill’s stomach knot. He shifted his weight from one side to the other in a sort of nervous fashion as Richie wiped his tongue on his shirt and cleared his throat once more. “Can I wait ‘til Bev’s here?” He asked.

“Sh-She’s coming?” Richie nodded.

“Si, senor.” Mike leaned further back toward the tree he was propped up against.

“Depends if her psycho dad lets her come.” He pointed out. Georgie frowned.

“Psycho Dad?” He repeated uncertainly. Richie opened his mouth to respond, but Bill was quick to cut him off.

“Beep buh-beep, Richie.” They all knew Beverly’s home life was far from perfect, but Georgie didn’t need to know why she showed up with bruises on her arms some days, or with nasty gashes on her knees. They’d all seen the scars. All, that is, except for Georgie, and they intended to keep it that way.

“Ah, he couldn’t keep me away if he tried.” All eyes turned in the direction of the feminine voice, and they all pretended not to notice how Ben sat up just a little straighter.

“Bevvie!” Georgie was the first one to move, prancing through the trees to give her a hug. Bill would never say just how much he liked to hear her laugh.

“Hey, Georgie!” She said between melodic giggles. Bill watched as Georgie tugged her into the circle by the hem of her spotted summer top, oblivious to the eyes on him. Bev’s smile faded once she saw the solemn expression on Richie’s face. “Neibolt?” He nodded meekly.

“Wanted you to be here, but you’re here now, so…” Richie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and coughed, causing Eddie to elbow Mike in the ribs. Bill managed to overhear Eddie saying something about how:

“He’s been poisoned, see?” Mike scoffed.

“Nah, he’s fine. Just nervous.” Bill’s stomach twisted unpleasantly upon hearing that Richie, of all people, was nervous

“Yuh-Yeah.” Bill agreed. Ben and Stan had both sobered up once Beverly appeared and sat at attention. Even Eddie had calmed down enough to take his eyes off of Richie as he sat next to Georgie, Beverly on the other side of the smaller boy.

“Do you want me to start?” Beverly asked, her questioning gaze connecting with Richie’s. Richie nodded.

“Si, Senorita.” She cuffed him on the shoulder playfully before turning her attention the ensemble.

“Okay, so. Neibolt street.” The clearing was silent as she gauged their reactions. Bill silently willed away the blush on his cheeks and the way her gaze made his thoughts blur together like the words that left his mouth. She laughed nervously. “Where do I even begin?” She stood and began to pace, nervously fiddling with the folds of her dress. “Everything inside was normal, I guess, for Neibolt. It was this idiot’s idea to go into the basement.” Richie let out a small squeak of indignance.

“Your idea.” He corrected. Beverly rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. We weren’t down there for very long anyway.” Richie slumped forward and averted his eyes, mumbling something that nobody could make out under his breath. “So, we’re walking around in the pitch-darkness, both of us bitching about our lack of flashlights when-”

Richie shuddered. “The fucking singing started.”

“Singing?” Stan asked, his voice showing how much he didn’t want to know, but also how much he knew somebody had to ask.

“Yeah, singing, if you can even call it that. It came from the well past the puppet room full of clowns.” Bill was surprised that Richie could even get the words out of his mouth from the way he was shaking. “It kinda, echoed…” He pushed his glasses up into his hairline and let out a groan. “Jesus.” He har to take a few deep breaths before continuing. George shifted over to him wide eyes, sidestepping Eddie in order to get closer. “We ran after hearing that shit, we didn’t even have to say anything to each other, we just kinda-” Richie searched for the right word for a moment. “Knew.” He settled with. “Like, dunno, we read each other’s minds or something.”  

“No,” Beverly corrected, moving to tug at Richie’s shirt. “We just fucking ran.”

“True.” Richie admitted. “God, I can still fucking hear it, just the tune.” Mike propped his chin on his hands, letting his feet shuffle nervously beneath him.

“Oranges and lemons…” Bill frowned, not wanting to acknowledge the prickling sort of anxiety sparking into existence in the back of his mind. Georgie, however, didn’t seem to mind. His gaze kept shooting from Richie back to Beverly, his questioning gaze lingering on them until they looked away. Bill knew he wanted to speak up, but also knew that he could sense the tension leaking off of all of them.

“Oranges and lemons?” He watched as Georgie tried to make eye-contact with the losers. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s a nursery rhyme.” Mike answered, his voice uncertain, as though he didn’t want to keep speaking. Bill knew the feeling well. He had enough problems with speaking to know. Every time somebody teased him for his stutter and he knew that defending himself would just make it worse, he still wanted to, just to prove them wrong. Every time he would stand in front of his Mother in the dining room, hands clenched into fists that quivered at his sides and his jaw so tightly shut, he thought it would break off from the tension. Every time he would open his mouth with her eyes on him, trying to make sense of all the noise.

He thrusts his fists

“It’s about churches.”

Against the posts

“How’s that scary?”

And still insists

“Look, when you hear it while in the basement of a house that could collapse at any given moment.”

He sees the ghosts

“It’s pretty fucking terrifying.” Bill could tell Richie was fighting hard to keep his voice under control. Even Eddie looked like he was showing the boy some sympathy, his gaze infinitely softer than it had been mere minutes ago. “We hardly even talked on the way back.”

“I cuh-can see why.” Silence descended in heavy waves in the barrens, not even the birds were singing as they all thought over the words that had been shared. It was crazy, really. Batshit insane, as Richie would not-so-delicately put it. Bill couldn’t say he disagreed. “D-Do you remember the tu-tune?”

The two who had been in the house paled and shared a glance.

“It’s just a song.” Richie reasoned. Beverly nodded.

“Right.” Beverly agreed. “Not like it can follow us.” She was the first one to start humming, and after a few bars, Richie joined in, adding his voice to the haunting melody. Bill felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end as slowly, Mike began to try and add words, despite his lack of a proper tune.

Uneasy looks were shared between all of them, Richie and Bev’s eyes staying firmly squeezed shut, as if opening them would unleash an unspeakable evil onto the entire club. Bill wasn’t sure he disagreed with the notion, as insane as it sounded. Even after they had stopped, the notes seemed to linger in the air along with Mike’s uncertain words, leaving a near-electric sort of crackle in the air in its wake.

“That was…” Stan’s voice trailed off uncertainly. “Wow.” He settled with.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice cracked and he flushed beet red. “Shit.” He mumbled, rubbing idly at his left arm, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. Georgie was gripping Richie’s hand tightly and bouncing his knees.

“You can open your eyes.” The nervous way he was speaking made Bill feel a pang of sympathy. “Richie?” Richie slowly opened one eye.

“What, little dude?”

“Are you…” Georgie bit his lip. “Are you feeling okay?” He laid his hand on the other boy’s knee.

“I’m always okay!” He insisted. “It was just,” He shuddered violently. “God…”

“It’s over n-now.” Bll managed to get out. “You’re huh-here with uh-us. It’s suh-safe.” The others nodded in agreement.

“And if it isn’t, whatever was down there is getting the shit kicked out of it.” Bev cracked a smile at Mike’s words. Her green eyes widened and she blinked once, slowly, as if she was lost and just regaining her bearings. Bill offered her a small smile and tried to hide the flush his cheeks gained when she returned it.

Conversation was hesitant after that, the dark cloud of what had been said hanging over the small group, weighing on their shoulders with just how- real it was. Even Richie’s constant jokes couldn’t lighten the mood, no matter how many times he pinched Eddie, all he got were a few forced chuckles. Eddie hardly even reacted, just swatted him away and tried to refocus on the rest of the club. He ended up being the first to go, and before Bill had time to do so much as blink, he was walking his bike next to Georgie on the way home.

“They were pretty scared of that lemon song.” Georgie stated after a few moments of silence.

“Yuh-Yeah.” Bill agreed, shifting so he could push his hair back from where it hung on his forehead. “Let’s just guh-get home, okay?” He silently begged Georgie to grasp the change of topic, not wanting to have to tell him about the creature that they all knew was haunting the town of Derry.

“Okay, Billy!” Georgie chirped, straddling his blue bike. His yellow hoodie seemed to glow in the sunset, and Bill couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think Penny liked his popcorn?” Bill swung his legs over Silver’s back and began to pump.

“Puh-probably tastes better than wh-whatever’s in the sewer.” He panted between breaths. The steady clicking of Silver beneath him helped ease his mind.

“Sewer popcorn.” Georgie mused. Bill grinned at that.

“Gross.” Let the kid have his fun. After all, imaginary friends were harmless, and a clown in a sewer couldn’t be the worst thing in Derry.