Work Text:
June 1990
Beverly Marsh steps out of her aunt’s ‘82 Challenger, breathing in the familiar air that sends a flood of emotions coursing through her body. Never in her life did she think she would be back in Derry. Back at this apartment.
She followed her aunt’s lead, running her hands up the familiar railing of the fire escape. She could taste the cigarettes she used to smoke on those quiet summer nights when her father was blackout drunk.
Her aunt fumbles with the keys and finally manages to open the door to her old apartment. The older woman coughs, fanning dust out of her face, and sighing in contentment. She sets the suitcases down and turns to Bev, her hands on her hips, a wide smile on her face.
“Welcome home, B.”
Home? The last time this place meant home to her, her father had her pinned to the floor. She hadn’t seen him since last summer. He was unconscious then, blood pooling around his head. Like a halo. She was taken. When she finally returned home, he was gone. She had called her aunt right after. The last time she had been in this apartment, her hand stinging and her lips burning, he was still missing. Probably lying at the bottom of some river.
Most of the old furniture is still there. Her room is pretty much how she left it when she left Derry. When she left the Losers.
Automatically, she looks down at her left hand. There’s still a thin, white scar extending from the base of her pinky to the bottom of her thumb. Her feet start moving. Her suitcase is small, not even full. Bev pulls out a bikini top and the matching bottoms. She needs to see them. If she has to go another minute in Derry without seeing them, her heart will explode.
“Where you going, kiddo?” Bev’s aunt calls as she rushes past the kitchen, still doing up the last button on her dress.
“Going to find my old friends.” Bev responds, pulling her bike out from the closet. The wheels still turn, which is good news.
“Alright. Don’t stay out too late. Be back before dark, ‘kay?” Bev can hear the smile on her aunt’s face.
“Got it.” Bev calls. “Love you!”
She’s out the door, carrying her bike down the stairs. She straddles it and pushes off, pedaling as fast as her legs will carry her. She’s not used to this much cardio, with her gym class offering little excitement, but the wind whipping through her shoulder-blade-length hair and stinging her cheeks fills her with adrenaline.
She follows the familiar path up to the quarry. Her heart feels ready to burst when she spies a pile of bikes a few feet away from the tree line, and she almost cries out when her ears pick up the unmistakable laughter of the boys. Her boys.
She drops her bike near theirs and approaches them on foot, planning on making an entrance.
“Dude! What the fuck! You know how many germs frogs have!” There’s Eddie. Bev has to hold in her laughter. “I’m gonna get warts now and Kerri Reid won’t dance with me at the fall ball!”
“And you’re upset about that?” Richie's voice rings out, loud and clear. “She’d probably give you warts.”
“Shut up.” And then, quieter: “But actually though?”
Bev takes her chance. She steps out into the clearing, just on the edge of the trees. As soon as she does, she has second thoughts. What if they hate her? What if they forgot about her? What if they don’t want to see her?
All of that is cut short by Richie. Typical.
“Holy fuck.” He says. The five other boys look at him in a mix of shock and amusement. After he doesn’t say anything, they follow his wide-eyed stare. Bev smiles shyly as six pairs of eyes land on her.
“Hey bo-” Her greeting is knocked out of her by none other than Bill Denbrough. His arms grab her and pull her into the tightest hug she’s ever been a part of. He buries his face in her neck.
“Hi, Bill.” She laughs.
He finally pulls back, but he keeps his hands on her shoulders. “W-We haven’t heard from you in m-months.”
“I was going to write to all of you but the price of postage was insane.” Bev says. “I’m sorry.”
“I-It’s okay. We j-j-just didn’t want to lose y-you.” Bill smiles. “A-a-again.”
Bev looks at him. His face is leaner. His jawline is more defined. His hair is slightly longer. But underneath all of that, there’s still sadness in his eyes. Bev wonders if it will always be there.
“Jesus, you two! Get a room already! Or have you finished each other off yet?” Richie calls.
“Beep beep, Richie.” Stan rolls his eyes as Bill and Bev join the rest of the group. The boys all stand to embrace her, one at a time. She takes in their appearances. They’re growing up. Richie’s face is less round and his hair is the wildest she’s ever seen. Stan is somehow taller and his curls are bouncier. Eddie is now closer to the same height as everyone else. He even has a few inches on Mike. Mike is leaner, and more muscular. Ben is taller, too. And he’s also gained some muscle.
They’re still the same boys, though. They’ve still gone through all the same shit. They all have a sadness and maturity behind their facades.
“So now that we’re all here,” Stan says, giving Bev a playful took-you-long-enough face, at which she sticks her tongue out, “I say we officially kick off this summer. Loser’s Club style.”
“Last one in the water’s a frog kisser!” Ben shouts, already pulling his shirt off. Bev doesn’t miss the thin white lines that form an H on his lower right side. Another scar to add to the list.
“Sorry, Benny, Eddie Spaghetti has ya beat!” Richie announces into his fist. “Anything to add, Eddie-boy?”
“Fuck you.” Eddie says, peeling off a sock. “And don’t call me Eddie Spaghetti.”
“Am I going to be the first one in for the second summer in a row?” Bev calls from the edge of the cliff, her dress already off and folded neatly beside Bill’s stuff. “Or are you boys going to put some effort in?”
“N-no way, B-Beverly.” Bill grins as he takes off running. He launches himself off the cliff, landing in the water with an impressive splash.
The remaining Losers give mixed shouts of approval and protest. Bev makes sure everything is all clear before jumping in after Bill. Then follows Ben, Stan, Mike, Eddie, and last but not least, Richie.
“Fucking hell!” Richie shouts as he surfaces. “There’s no way I’m kissing a frog.”
Beverly laughs as she treads water. Her heart is full. She’s finally home.
Bill is treading nearby. She feels a hand take hers. He’s there, his blue eyes bright thanks to the water.
“W-we really are glad you’re b-back, Bev.” He says. “Derry just i-isn’t the sa-same without you. And y-your hair looks b-beautiful a-as always.”
“Thank you, Bill.” Bev smiles.
“Hey, assholes! 10 o’ clock!” Richie shouts at them from atop Ben’s shoulders.
Bev squints in confusion. “What?”
Richie rolls his eyes and huffs. “Look behind you!”
Everyone turns to see a blue car rolling up to the shore. Angry metal blasts from the speakers. Cigarette smoke curls out from the window.
“Shit.” Bill says. “Bowers.”
Bev suddenly becomes very aware of the fact that she’s wearing just a bikini.
“That’s our only way back up the cliff.” Ben says, vocalizing what’s on everyone’s minds.
“Over here!” Mike shouts. “If we’re fast, we can make it.”
The Losers swim for their lives. For some crazy reason, Bev feels like smiling. Nothing like a healthy dose of fear to get her back to normal. Then, the moment is gone.
“Henry’s alive?” Bev asks as they reach the shore. Ben extends a hand to help her out of the water and she takes it.
“Somehow.” Eddie pants. “We think It possessed him and caught him before he hit the bottom of the well, or something.”
“And when we let It starve…” Bev trails off.
Stan finishes her thought for her. “Henry woke up.”
“With a shit-ton of psychological damage, might I add.” Richie says. “The fucker was wandering the streets, screaming about how a clown murdered his dad.”
“Yeah, everyone knows he did it because they found his knife, but since he was a minor, they sent him to the crazy bin.” Eddie says as they begin to climb.
Bev makes the mistake of glancing back. The car door slams. Henry Bowers is glaring up at them.
“So then how is he…” She asks.
“B-Because he was showing signs of s-stability.” Bill explains.
“Bullshit.” Bev mutters. Ben laughs beside her.
The Losers are barely to the top of the trail when Henry shouts up at them. He’s standing twenty feet in front of his car now.
“Well, well, well, looks like the Losers finally have their own playboy bunny.”
“Fuck off, Bowers!” Richie shouts back. “It’s more than you’ll ever have!”
They can hear Henry’s hyena-like laughter from their high ground. His lit cigarette sends wafts of smoke up in their direction. Bev gags.
“So who’s the little slut?” Henry calls.
“He doesn’t recognize you.” Mike says.
“It’s the hair.” Ben replies.
“I didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.” Henry calls impatiently.
“I didn’t throw it.” Bev calls back, extending a middle finger.
Henry laughs again. “Feisty. Listen, babe, if you ever want a taste of a real man instead of these boys here, let me know.”
A weight settles on Bev’s shoulders. Someone managed to get back to their stuff and Ben has draped her dress over her. Bev bends down to pick up a rock and heaves it through the air. Henry doesn’t even have to move. The rock is a good five feet off.
“Aw, Bev.” Richie scoffs. “You missed.”
“Did I?” Bev responds smugly as a metallic clang echoes around the quarry.
“My car!” Henry screams, glaring at the obvious dent in the car’s hood. “You bitch!”
“Go!” Bev shouts. The Losers run the rest of the way up the cliff and Bev has to wait for two agonizing minutes as the boys finish getting dressed. They’re climbing on their bikes as Henry appears at the top of the hill. They pedal off, weaving through the trees.
He can’t follow us without his car, and he can’t drive his car through the woods. Bev thinks. Bill seems to have the same idea, because instead of biking out of the woods onto a road where blue chrome glints just feet away, he takes a sharp left and follows the tree line.
“Where are we going?” Stan calls.
“My house.” Bill says. “My parents are in Michigan for a w-wedding.”
The Losers pedal as fast as they can. Eventually, they reach the point where they can’t stay in the woods anymore.
“I say we just make a break for it. There’s no way he knows where Bill lives.” Mike says.
“We could split up.” Ben says.
“No fucking way, dude. Bad things happen when we split up.” Richie chimes in.
Bev clenches her jaw. “It looks like we’re making a break for it.”
“O-Okay, on my signal, it’s two l-lefts, a right, a-and a left.” Bill says. “G-Go!”
The Losers break out of the trees, pedalling as fast as they can. At every roar of a car engine, they flinch. As they make the final left turn, the blue chrome appears at the opposite end of the street.
“Holy fuck, he’s going to run us over!” Eddie shouts. “If I get run over, I’ll die, okay, my mom will personally kill me.”
“Faster!” Bev shouts. Henry’s car is speeding up, going way too fast for a residential area.
Henry’s maniacal face rushes towards them, his cigarette trailing smoke out of the window. At the last second, the Losers turn right into an alleyway, pebbles hitting the back of Bev’s legs as Henry roars past.
“This alley’s t-too narrow f-for his car.” Bill says. “C-Come on.”
They walk their bikes down the alley and bike around back to Bill’s house. He opens the garage and has them hide their bikes inside.
“I-In case he’s d-driving around looking for us.” Bill reasons.
The adrenaline starts to wear off as they walk inside Bill’s house. He leads them to the living room, flipping lights on as he goes. Bev walks at the back of the group, looking at the pictures on the walls. Most of them are pictures of Bill, or his parents. Only a handful with Georgie. Bev feels a pang of sadness course through her heart. After everything she'd been through with the Losers, and Bill especially, Georgie felt like someone she'd lost as well.
“M-Make yourselves at home.” Bill says. Richie immediately flings himself on the couch and grabs for the remote. He flips through channels as the boys settle around him, loud and energized. Bill’s house, that felt cold and empty when they first entered, is starting to feel warm and lively.
Bev looks back at Bill. He’s watching the Losers with a small smile on his face, like a parent or an older brother. He turns and goes up the stairs.
Bev hesitates. She feels like she should follow him, but he might need some space. The boys are too focused on the TV to notice her slip up the stairs. Out of habit, she treads lightly. She peeks into one room and sees childlike decorations, along with a few cardboard boxes that say Georgie on them in sharpie.
“M-My parents and I decided it was a good idea t-to have a spare bedroom.” Bill says from behind her. She jumps slightly. “In case a-any of the boys has to s-sleep over.”
“Do they?” Bev asks, turning around.
Bill shrugs. “S-Sometimes they need a break.”
He turns around, glancing over his shoulder, and walks into what Bev assumes is his room. She takes the silent invitation and follows him.
“I m-meant to write to you but the price of p-postage was insane.” Bill smirks, handing her an envelope. “S-So here.”
She catches his left hand as she takes the letter, turning it over to look at the scar. “Ouch.”
“Eddie whined a-about AIDS f-for weeks.” Bill smirks. Bev turns her hand over, revealing her scar. They’re identical.
“Thank you, Bill.” Bev smiles. “I really am sorry.”
“F-For what?” He asks.
Bev sighs. “For leaving you. A-And the Losers. For a month after I left I kept thinking ‘what if It came back?’. Eventually, I…”
“Forgot?” Bill looks down at his hands.
“No, I got distracted. I could never forget you guys.” Bev says, looking at her hand. “It’s pretty impossible.”
Bill nods. “Well l-lucky for us, It hasn’t come back.”
“Only twenty-six years to go, right?” She smiles.
Bill looks up at her and smiles too. He stands and envelopes her in another hug. “A-Are we going to talk about what happened l-last time we talked about It coming back?”
Bev smiles at the thought of the kiss. Funny how the only two kisses she’s ever had were with the one and only Bill Denbrough.
“I think we have the whole summer to think about that.” She answers, pulling back. “Come on, let’s go see what lame movie they’re watching.”
They descend the stairs to see Ghostbusters on the TV. Richie sees them first.
“Jesus, that was fast! What happened, you couldn’t get him excited?” He calls.
“Beep f-fucking beep, Richie.” Bill scowls, but there’s a blush blossoming on his cheeks. Bev just rolls her eyes, smiling, and walks over to the sofa Richie has reclined his entire body across Stan. She nudges his legs.
“Move over, Trashmouth.” She smirks.
Richie grins and stands up, moving to the loveseat with Eddie. Bill sits on her other side, and she leans her head on his shoulder and kicks her feet up onto Stan’s lap, who raises an eyebrow at her, but smiles.
She looks around the living room, at Richie and Eddie on the loveseat, nudging each other every so often, at Mike and Ben in the living chairs, at Stan on her left and Bill on her right. She’s with her Losers, and there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
~&~
“Goodnight, B! Don’t stay up too late! And no sneaking out until I’m asleep, alright? I don’t want to hear you!” Bev’s aunt calls from her room.
Bev smiles, sitting on her bed, in her pajamas. She's no longer afraid to sleep in this apartment. “Love you!”
She waits for the light in the hallway to click off, and then she pulls out Bill’s envelope. It’s addressed to her in his neat handwriting. Carefully, she opens it up and pulls out the letter.
October 12, 1989
Dear Beverly,
How is Portland? Have you made any new friends? You’d better not replace us, or Stan might come out there and knock some sense into you. Just kidding. He wouldn’t. Richie would though.
Georgie’s funeral is this Saturday. I took his raincoat back and showed it to my parents. I think we’re all starting to do better. The Losers are all coming. We miss you. We wish you were here.
They found your dad. He was floating in the sewers. They don’t know how he got there. He didn’t even have a funeral.
We don’t know if we’re going to see you next year or 27 years from now. No matter what, you’ll always have a home here. We’ll be your family if you need one. Once a Loser, always a Loser.
Love and Best Wishes,
Bill Denbrough
Bev smiles, feeling a weight lift off her chest that’s been there her whole life. Her dad is gone. She’s free. The Losers are still her family.
She lifts up the letter and a piece of sketchbook paper falls out and drifts to the floor, landing upside down. She reaches down to flip it over and her heart swells. It’s a sketch of her, a profile. Her short hair is the colour of fire. It’s signed B. Denbrough.
Beverly Marsh falls asleep with the picture pinned to her wall (until she can find a frame) and the letter under her pillow, one hand on top of it. She’s decided that there are some things in this world worth fighting for, and they’re all a bunch of Losers.