Chapter Text
August 2000
One more box. That's all that was left. One more box of memories. Memories of Stan, Boston, his co-workers from Beatley Library, everything from the last six years. He turns from the yawning emptiness of the rented moving van, to the farmhouse… to home. The outside of the house was in need of a paint job, but didn’t look bad, it just looked the same. The kitchen garden was where it always had been, it needed of a good hoeing, otherwise it looked the same. The barn where he and the Loser’s would hang out on weekends. The barn where his dad had stored their old pickup. Still standing, in good shape. The same, just older.
Memories.
He’s come home and is now being bombarded with memories. The field out behind the house is where his dad had first hinted at the fire at the Black Spot. The if he looked down the dusty road he could see where the old Bowers place should have been. Long gone now, thank god. Memories of his dad, mom, the Losers and Stan. Always of Stan.
The old oak tree by the side of the barn, is where he had asked Stan out for the first time. He had been so nervous. It had been easy to get Stan to come to his house without the other Losers. They were still Magic Lucky 7, but they had all begun to hang out in pairs or triples, then they would all get together at someone’s house and spend the night together. They still had their standing dates, the quarry, movie night, dinner night. The doubles and triples were nothing bad or permanent, just something new and evolution. He'd asked him to come and check out a nest of birds in his oak tree. Not a lie there was a nest, but he knew what type of birds they were and that they were ok. Stan showed up exactly on time, as usual. Stan pronounced them standard Maine grackles. “You know what they look like Mike. Why’d you want me to come out here and look at them?” Stan asked curious at once. Mike knew it was time. He indicated that they should sit under the shade of the oak. They leaned against the oak shoulder-to-shoulder and enjoyed the cool.
“Stan.” Mike began shyly. “ We've been best friends for a few years and have no secrets, right?”
“Yeah, of course. We don’t keep things from each other. I think we’re great friends. I enjoy spending time with you. Seriously, what's up?” Stan asked a bit confused.
Mike swallowed and without thinking blurted out, “I like you. A lot. I mean, really like you, and want to spend time together alone, more often. I… I… really would like to ask...if...”
Stan interrupted. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Mike?
“Oh shit. Y...y….yeah.” Mike clears his throat. “Y...Yes I am.” Mike started out stammering and finishes strong which makes him feel more confident.
“Oh. Yeah. Ok. I'd love to.” Stan answers.
“That's it. You aren't going to… YES!” Mike says triumphantly and pump his fist. Stan smiles at his display.
“Mike. I like you, a lot as well. You're fun, you don't mind birding, you put up with my… moods and stuff, you’re just sweet and caring and very good looking. Why wouldn't I want to date you.” Stan concludes with aplomb.
Standing and staring at “their tree” Mike thinks, “I never would have thought I would be moving back into my old house. Sure maybe some nice place in Derry proper, but not back home and sure as shit not with my mom. God what has my life come to?” He chuckles, bends down to pick up the final memory and take it inside.
He walks over the threshold and is immediately assaulted by more memories. If he looks at the door frame into the family room he can clearly see hash marks going up the frame. Each marking his birthdate and height from 1 to 18, when he left for college and a new life. Or so he thought. The stairs straight ahead he knows to skip the 4 and 10 one they creak loudly. The photos on the wall were almost all the same. Photos of grandparents, cousins, mom and dad as kids, when they were dating, marriage. He turns and see the newer photos cluttering the other wall, school photos of him, him and Stan around the farm as a few from Boston, him and the Losers, his dad and the Losers, all the new memories that were made after Michael Jefferson Hanlon came into this world.
Jessica pokes her head out of the family room and looks at her only child with a mixture of sadness, love, and warmth. She makes her way to his side and puts an arm around his shoulder. He shoots her a quick glance and points at a particular photo and smiles sadly. It’s of the Losers and William, taken the summer before he passed. “The Losers and your Stan, " she says. That was always how Jessica referred to Stan, when he wasn't in the general vicinity, ‘your Stan’.
She continues, running a finger over William's image. "Your daddy was already sick when we took this one. Your Losers all came out to help us finish and close up for the farm for the season. Good kids, everyone last one of them. Your daddy liked them all and approved of Stan. But you knew that of course. Sure we were a bit sad we won't have grandkids, but Stanley is good for you. You’re all good for each other. Remember that. Don’t fret Michael.” she give him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, kisses him on the cheek and walks back to the family room.
Mike smiles fondly at his mom’s retreating back and turns to the other doorway. Off the main hall is the dining room and his mother’s undisputed domain, the kitchen, pantry and dining room. The furniture in the house was all the same and that made him feel comfortable. Safe. He remembered fondly all the times spent on this furniture with Stan watching movies, making out after his parents had gone to sleep. Time spent with the Losers and their movie marathons. So many things had changed and so many had stayed the same. Down at the other end of the hall was the sole downstairs bedroom, now prepped for it’s new occupant.
Mike looks at the boxes waiting to go upstairs and sighs sadly. He already missed the place he and Stan had shared in Brookline. They had made so many memories there, good and bad. But that was then and this was now and he had to put the past behind him and concentrate on the future.
He had only been back in town a few days and he had so much to get organized. He started his job at Derry Public Library in a week and a half. He smiled at that. He would be putting his all his degrees to work. Finally, he would be a librarian, and in the town he grew up in. He had the history of Derry collection to get organized. He already knew where the gaps in this town’s history were. Even if most of the population wouldn’t or couldn’t admit it. For some reason answering questions about why the latest issue of The Derry News wasn’t on it’s stick made him smile with eagerness. “God I’m such a librarian it’s ridiculous.” he thought to himself.
As for the farm, well he wasn't going to be a farmer. Stan had been right about that. But he could manage one if needed. He was interviewing, later this week, a couple of crews to handle that. With him moving back into the farmhouse to help Jessica and keep an eye on her and the crew that was hired, he didn’t have to worry about rent. “Put that in the plus column I guess,” he shook his head as he thought that.
He walked into what had been his dad’s farm office, now his office, he thought glumly and dropped the box. It was full of his books and they would be joining or replacing some of the volumes William had kept on his shelves. Mike pulled the copy of the Old Farmer's Almanac at random. It was from 1992 and held it. “I’m keeping this for sure. Great year.” He thought. As he scanned the room, Mike saw items that were William’s; his pipe, old hat, dusty ledger, he suddenly and fiercely missed his dad. He really wanted to take one more ride in the old pickup around to the back acres of the farm. Dad behind the wheel, cussing at the old pickup, willing it to keep running. The missing windshield allowing a cool breeze, and bugs into the cab, the truck bouncing down the furrows. Mike listening to his dad talk about the town and farming, he would ask his dad for advice. Had he made the right decision? Should he have put Derry in his rear view mirror and just never looked back. Like he was sure the other Losers had done already. Dad would know what to do and say to cheer him up, or simply kick him in the ass. Either one straightening Mike out. But sadly dad was gone and he couldn’t consult him.
He was dependent on his own counsel and he was afraid he was fucking up royally. He could almost hear his dad say as he shifted gears in the old pickup, smile, “Mikey, if you listen to your heart and do what you feel is right, you will wind up a good man. You hear me, son? Listen to your heart.” Mike shook his head and hoped that he had followed his dad’s advice.
Taking some books out from his box he remembered the day he told his dad that he was not only gay, but in love with a white boy. It was in this very room. William was sitting back going over the books, Jessica was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, and Mike was sitting in the chair opposite his dad. In a muck sweat, his left leg bouncing up and down, trying to get his breathing under control. William looked up at his only child, “What’s ailin’ ya Mikey? Everything OK with school? I know ya don’t have to worry about Bower’s little shit no more. With him up in Juniper Hills and all. Ayuh, that’s taken care of. Spit it out son, what’s wrong with ya?”
Mike swallowed and felt his adam’s apple move up and down. His mouth was suddenly dry. This was a bad idea. They could just keep it all a secret for a bit longer. “MIKE.” William snapped. Automatically Mike answered, “Sir?” “Spit it out son. What’s on your chest? You can barely breathe.” William said in a gentler tone.
Mike had to do this. Stan had told his parents yesterday and that had gone well. So the clock was ticking. He had to tell his parents. “Dad. I don’t really know how to say this. I… I … I’m not like other boys.” MIke stammered. William prompted Mike with “Ayuh, your the son of a black farmer so no yer not.” Mike plunged on, “No. Not just that. I… you see dad. I like boys the way I should like girls.” Mike held his breath. All he got in response was low humming from deep in his father’s throat. He still hadn’t even told him the worst news, that boy was Stan.
William put up his hand in a stop gesture and hollered, “Jess! Come here to the office right quick.” He pointed at Mike, “You be still.” They waited in silence as Jessica walked into the room and sat in the chair next to Mike. “What’s got the two of you so quiet in here?” Jessica offered with a smile. William gestured to Mike, “Our son has something to say to us. Mikey please repeat to your mother what you just told me.” Mike swallowed even harder and thought for sure he was beginning to see stars dance in front of his eyes. “Go on Mikey.” William prompted again.
Mike cleared his throat “Mom, dad I like boys. I’m gay.” he held his breath. Jessica eyes widened a bit and she looked at William and he nodded. “How long have you known?” She asked. This was good, no screaming and yelling Mike thought. “‘Bout a year, maybe more.” He lied, for sure more, replied.
“Is there someone special?” she asked again with Will looking on. “Yes” Mike offered. “Who?” Will asked. A deep shaky breath, “Stan… Stanley Uris.” Mike literally winced waiting for the outburst. “At least it’s not the Tozier boy. I like him, but he’s a bit much Mikey. It was also bound to be one of them Loser’s Club white boys. With all the time you spend running around with ‘em.” William said with a chuckle and Jessica reached over and patted Mike on the leg. Mike is dumbfounded. Nothing. No yelling, no screaming. “You’re not disappointed or mad?” Mike stammered. “No. What kind of parents would we be if we didn’t know which team our son batted for? We like Stan. But things are gonna change a bit. Those solo sleepovers will have to be reconsidered. We will also want to meet his parents.” William concluded. They all talked for a bit and finally Mike went up to his room. Closed the door, fell on his bed and just wondered why he had been so nervous. Looking back on it, how could he have ever thought it would turn out any differently.
“Michael Jefferson Hanlon get in here and move these blasted boxes from my dining room. How do you expect me to serve dinner? On the back of cardboard boxes. I damn well don’t think so.” Jessica roared from kitchen shocking him back to the present. Mike shook his head and thought, “Back home less than a week and she's already using my full name.”
He left the office and its few boxes and went into the dining room to do as his mom bid. “You know mom, you don’t have to cook.” Mike called from the dining room. “I am perfectly capable…” Mike started as he was cut off, “This has been my kitchen for years Michael Hanlon. No one is pushing me out, yet. Do you get me?” Jessica fired back. “Yes ma’am.” Mike answered automatically and instantly rolled his eyes. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me young man.” Was the response he got. The boxes in the dining room actually belonged in his room.
With dinner just about done, the offending boxes were moved to their rightful places. Mike was setting up the table for dinner. Yet another childhood chore he found himself automatically falling back into. “Mom. Everything’s ready. How long until dinner? I still have to square away the other boxes. I guess I keep the truck tonight and return it tomorrow. It’s gonna be too late to return it tonight.” Jessica walks into the dining room, “Mikey it’s almost done. Don’t fret. You’ll have time to organize. Isn’t that rental due back tomorrow anyway?” They both heard a key slide into the lock and the front door open.
“Hi honey I'm home.” Stan calls cheerfully as he puts his bag and keys down on the table by the bannister. Mike walks into the foyer, gives Stan a hug and a kiss. “How was work?”
“You know, the same. The bank isn't used to having such great financial planner and CPA on staff yet.” Stan said. Back in Brookline after a sleepless night for Stan and Mike. They sat and had good talk and in the end Stan had made the decision, “Shep, I love you and I’d follow you anywhere. Hell I’d even go back to Derry and back into the sewers so long as you were by my side.”
Mike had smiled and said, “I”m still sorry we have to move back. But thank you for being so understanding. I love you Will. Thank you. I owe you so much.”
“Oh yes you do and don’t think I won’t collect someday, Mikey.” Stan had smirked.
Stan had moved back to Derry before Mike. Ironically Mike had to give longer notice at work than Stan had. After agreeing to move back, Stan had called his parents and told them the good news, then he used his connections to land a job at a bank/accounting house here in Derry. He had been in town for a more than a week already, splitting his stay between his parent’s house in town and the farm with Jessica. He didn’t want to move into the farmhouse until Mike arrived with all their shit from Brookline. Jessica had been understanding but still had given Stan and Mike a hard time about it.
“What’s left to do Shep? Eat only I hope.” Stan says as he pushes Mike from the hug to look him in the face.
“No such luck babe. There are boxes a plenty to be sorted still.” Mike answers with a toothy grin.
Stan pouts, “Didn’t you do anything while I was work?”
Jessica walks into the foyer and Stan walks over to give her a hug. “Mom sends her best and says that we need to get you over for dinner sometime this week. How was he today? Get on your nerves at all?” Stan to which Mike playfully punches him in the arm.
“I only had to use his full name once today, so its been a good day. Once you both get changed and washed up we can sit down for dinner.” Jessica groused at the two men. Playfully waving them to their room.
“Jessica you are going to spoil us with all of your wonderful cooking.” Stan smiles and gestures for Mike to follow him upstairs. Which he does. Once upstairs they walk into what had been Mike’s parent’s room. The largest in the house. Jessica had insisted and more to the point she wanted the room on the ground floor on the opposite side of the house for reasons obvious to to them all. Stan pulls Mike into a hug and gives him another kiss. “I love you Michael Jefferson Hanlon. I'm glad I followed you back home. It’s been much better than I imagined.”
“I’m glad that I didn’t force us into a break up with my insecurity. It’s weird to be back in my old home. But if I had to be back here I couldn’t pick a better person to remake memories with.” MIke admits.
Stan smiles lovingly at him and walks over to boxes. He digs around until Mike hears “Here it is.”and pulls out a shirt that says “Someone at Simmons University Loves Me” and pair of sweat shorts. “We need to hurry up. We don’t want to give Jess the wrong idea, at least not yet.” He wags his eyebrows at Mike.
Mike pulls Stan in for a quick hug. Then pushes him back to look into Stan’s eyes and says, “I love you Stanley Wyatt Uris. You’d better finish getting changed and get back downstairs I don’t want to be the one to tell mom we were getting it on.” Just then Jessica calls, “Stanley stop kissing that boy and the two of you get down here, dinner’s getting cold. I swear I talk just to hear my head roar.” The two of them chuckle and Mike calls down, ‘Yes ma’am.” As Stan goes to the the boxes piled on the bed and moves them off. Clearing the bed for later. Mike glances at the wooden jewelry box on top of the dresser. He smiles, because in that box is his father’s old ring. The one he is going to use to propose to Stan.