Chapter Text
The hardest part of having children is having to see yourself in them as they grow up.
Stanley Uris sat across the kitchen table, watching as his son Levi methodically worked his way through a bowl of cereal. With the same level of determination found in surgeons performing open heart transplants, Levi parted the bowl into three portions. In one portion of the bowl was milk, untouched and completely free of cereal. The remaining 2/3rd were split between frosted shapes and slightly soggy, slowly rehydrating marshmallows.
“Did you sleep alright?” Stan asked.
“Yeah, I slept fine,” Levi shrugged, as he continued to parse out his breakfast until he was satisfied. He then started to eat the crunchy cereal bits. He’d save the marshmallows for last.
“I thought I heard you get up at two,” Stan pressed.
“I had to get a glass of water,” Levi said.
Silence passed between them, as Stan looked down at his own bowl of granola, yogurt, and fruit. Broke into three sections.
“You can tell me anything,” he affirmed more to himself than to his son.
“I know that.”
“I love you.”
“I know that too.”
For a moment Stan worried that there was something unsaid, or angry, or bitter between them but Levi looked up at him across the kitchen table. He was all of twelve, turning thirteen in a month, and slowly his boyish looks were starting to fade into the leaner cut of a teen. His hair, once a sandy blonde, had turned dark over the past year and there was a depth to his deep blue eyes that Stan swore wasn’t there a month ago.
Of course, Levi had always looked older than he was. Richie had even joked that if Stanley had been born sixty, Levi was at least born 65.
Stan tried his best to brush his own concerns off. He told himself that he was just worried because Levi was turning into a teenager. He was growing up and change was still something Stan didn’t like. Every inch his son grew felt like an overturned applecart and he had to adjust all over again. Still, he told himself; he didn’t need to worry. Levi was a good kid.
Checking his watch, Stan winced.
“Your mom will be by soon,” Stan said and Levi nodded, checking his own watch and agreeing with that assessment. “Are you packed?”
“Yup.”
“Want to say goodbye to the rest of the house?”
“Why? I’ll be back again a week?” Levi squinted like he was trying to see the point.
“… It’s just being courteous. You shouldn’t leave without telling people,” Stan sighed.
Levi just shrugged, getting up to wash his bowl, dry his bowl, and put it back in the cabinet with all the other bowls. Stan wondered if he was supposed to say something else, or maybe change the subject. Before he could settle on a course of action, however, his son had left the kitchen to gather his bags.
Somewhere in the house, Stan heard his friends. They were laughing and there was the sound of their kids roughhousing. Not for the first time, he felt the creeping sensation of isolation move up against him, and then fade just as fast, when Levi came back into the kitchen with his things.
“I’m going to go say goodbye.”
Stan smiled.
“Thank you.”
Levi shrugged, “I’d hate to be discourteous. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression of me.”
Levi carried his bags to the entry foyer of the house. He had clothes, and things, at his mom’s so he didn’t have to worry about too much. Instead, he packed projects. A book he was reading (third in a series about a homeless teenager who discovers they’re the next Merlin or something. He hadn’t been paying attention too much to the big plot twists), a notebook he had been tasked with writing in (his mother’s idea, encouraged by his father and his uncle Bill), and his laptop. He stopped by the door, looking back at where he could hear the sounds of laugher and just sighed.
His father lived with 6 other friends that he’d known forever and their kids.
The house was large, and built to accommodate everybody (his uncle Ben was an architect and his uncle Mike was a whiz at getting regulation permits passed). Levi had his own room, and a bathroom he really only shared with one of the other kids, Grace. Grace Kaspbrak, he decided, was the singular good kid of the lot. She was sometimes messy with her side of the sink, but they shared cleaning duties without arguing and she slept in while he woke early. There was a harmony to it that he appreciated.
He considered at least telling her he was leaving but it felt pointless.
Everybody knew he spent one week with them and one week with his mom.
Why belabor the point? They could figure it out themselves.
At least try to be social the little voice in the back of his head nagged, you promised your parents.
He had.
It was part of the terms for his laptop too.
He could one, but he couldn’t spend all his time on it and had to get out there into the world more often. Which he did. He went hiking in the woods around the house almost daily. Just never with other people.
“That time of the week again?” a voice asked, making the kid jump.
Levi was hard to sneak up on, January often complained about it, but Richie Tozier had an amazing skill at it for somebody built like a very gay redwood tree.
“Y-Yeah,” Levi nodded, taking a breath.
“Nice, well, I’ll miss ya,” Richie grinned, taking a seat on the bench in the foyer and pulling out his phone.
“Bet you will.”
“So will the others,” Richie added.
“Bet they will too. What are you playing?” Levi asked, curiously looking at the phone.
“I dunno, some free game. I’m trying to romance the sultan or some shit,” Richie shrugged.
“Sounds dumb.”
“Sure it is. That’s the point.”
Levi appraised his uncle and wondered if his dad had asked him to check on him. Or if maybe this really was all part of Richie’s plan for the day. It was impossible to tell and Levi finally decided he didn’t care either way. Sitting down next to him on the bench, he began to pull on his shoes.
“Mom says you’re going on tour soon?” Levi asked.
“I knew Patty was keeping tabs on me,” Richie grinned. “Yeah. I am. Why do you ask?”
“Just… wondering.”
“Why? Want tickets?”
Levi rolled his eyes.
“I think I have your material memorized by now.”
“Nah, I snuck some shit I didn’t run past you in there. Can’t let down my biggest fan,” Richie winked.
Levi flushed, trying to keep his focus on his shoes. He tucked the bows of his laces under the tongue of his sneakers and checked his watch. Five minutes until his mom arrived.
“… Wanna help me romance the sultan?” Richie offered his phone.
“Yeah, sure,” Levi nodded, and he sighed as soon as he saw the busty blonde concubine that Richie had chosen as his avatar.
At exactly 10 AM, Patty Blum pulled up in front of the ridiculously sleek and over-designed house her ex-husband lived in. He shared the house with his friends, of sorts, from Derry, the ones he had been supposed to meet that fateful night almost thirteen years ago.
It had been a night like any other night when he’d gotten a call.
The call.
Later that night she’d found him dying in the master bathroom tub. He’d been pronounced dead, and she’d feared the worst, when the doctor was shocked and announced that she’d found a pulse. The weeks following were a blur to Patty. Between the coma, and the long recovery period, she hadn’t even blinked when she’d discovered she was pregnant.
She hadn’t felt anything at all.
Even now, she had to admit, most days she felt a little numb. Like she was stuck on a track, or a loop, and playing out the parts as needed. It had felt inevitable when the divorce discussion happened, even though it was amicable. They would share their son, once Stanley got settled, and Patty would move closer to make it easier. That was all fine.
She hated their old house in Georgia.
Cutting the engine to her sensible but comfortable silver Volvo, she took a deep breath. Once braced, she got out of the car and every worry faded the moment she saw her son.
Levi was 12 going on 13 and he was perfect.
“Hey there, chickadee!” She called out, opening her arms as he rushed in for a hug.
“Hey mom!!”
Patty squeezed him tight, feeling all of her apprehension fade just as fast. It didn’t matter that the house put her on edge, or that she still felt that lurch in her stomach when she saw Stanley. She loved her son more than anything and it would all be alright in the end. For him.
Richie and Stanley were waiting outside of the house with Levi, and she wondered why it was usually those two who saw him off. Looking up over the top of her son’s head, she gave them a smile. It was really just to be polite.
“Hey there Patty-Cakes!” Richie waved.
“Hi, Richard,” Patty teased, as she crouched and got a better look at her son. It was amazing how much he could change in a week, and yet, he was still her baby boy. She ran her hands over his delicate face and tugged at his thick dark curls.
They’d used to be blonde, like hers, but they were a rich chestnut like his father now.
“All there in one piece?” Stan asked as he walked over carrying Levi’s backpack.
“Seems to be. Two eyes, a nose. Ten toes,” Patty smiled, kissing her son on the forehead. “You ready?”
He nodded, taking his bag from his dad and giving him a quick hug. He was getting taller and didn’t need to stretch as much to do it now. Levi paused to give Richie a fist bump (Richie made his explode with a “pchew!” noise. Levi made his flutter away like a shadow puppet bird), and then he climbed into the front seat of the car.
“He do alright this week?” Patty asked Stan.
“Fine, I don’t think he slept well last night,” Stan admitted.
“Did he say anything about it?” she asked.
“No,” Stan shook his head, and Patty knew they both knew Levi wouldn’t have said anything even if he’d had the worst nightmare of all time. The boy was private like that.
“Well, I’ll ask him about it if the timing seems right,” She nods.
“… Patty, I think I found a good psychologist,” Stan ventured.
“Oh? That’s good. I thought you already had one though?” She frowned.
“A child psychologist.”
There was a sigh that Patty couldn't stop escaping her lips. They’d had this talk at least once a month now. Planting a hand on her hip, she checked to make sure the car door was closed. It was, Levi was fiddling with his seatbelt and likely oblivious. Turning her attention back to Stan, she frowned.
“Hear me out,” Stan started, holding up a hand. “I just think it would be good. I could have benefitted a lot from seeing a psychologist at his age. That’s all. I think he just has a bit of OCD. And he’s not exactly social with the other kids. I’m not saying that he HAS to go see one. Just that it might do him some good to talk to somebody who…” he paused.
Patty finished for him.
“… who doesn’t have any skin in this game?”
“Exactly,” he gave her a thankful look with those gorgeous blue eyes of his.
Sad, deep eyes.
“I’ll… talk to him about it,” she said.
Stan nodded. She was surprised that he hadn’t brought it up already with Levi but then reconsidered. It made perfect sense that he would avoid that subject with their son. There was an unspoken truce between them, that they wouldn’t lie to Levi. That, unfortunately, meant that there was a lot of omissions that happened sometimes too.
“… Thanks,” Stan nodded, before looking back at Richie who was making kissing faces at them. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Patty just winked.
“I think he’s trying to hit on me,” she whispered loudly.
“I think he’s trying to sleep on the couch tonight,” Stan said, equally dramatic.
“AW, my heart beats only for you, Peppermint-Patty!!” Richie cried out, adopting a pose like a bad Shakespearean actor.
“I’ll call you, with Levi’s decision,” Patty nods to Stan, patting his cheek with her hand.
“Thanks,” He repeated, giving her a hug and turning back to Richie. “Knock it off!!”
“Tell the others I said hi!” Patty said over her shoulder as she walked to the car and pulled open the driver’s side door.
“PATTY TAKE ME WITH YOU!!” Richie’s voice was cut off as she closed the door.
Patty pressed her car’s start button and looked to Levi who was smiling.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, as she drove away from the house.
“Uncle Richie is an idiot,” Levi rolled his eyes and Patty smiled.
“Yeah, they’re all idiots.”
Patty pulled the car out of the driveway of the house and back towards civilization. While Stanley and his friends lived in relative peace and seclusion, Patty had opted to live closer to things like the library and the grocery store. She’d bought herself a little cottage house in the historical part of town that had a reasonably sized garden and no bathtubs in any of the bathrooms. There was, however, a small hot tub on the back patio.
“So, how was everything?” Patty asked once they were far enough away from the house.
“It was fine,” Levi shrugged, which was his usual answer.
“Mmm you think traffic is bad on the interstate?” she wondered out loud.
“It’s terrible,” he said, and she trusted his instinct. He was so much like his father in that way. He had what she had started to call a Knack. It sounded better than a Hunch, and less serious than a Gift. So Patty took the back roads home and let Levi pick the radio station as they wound their way out of the trees and into the city.
She stopped at the pizza parlor, the good one that was a little further from their home but cooked kosher and had the fluffiest crust that they brushed with garlic salt and butter, and grinned when she saw Levi’s eyes light up.
“Really?” He asked, unbuckling as soon as the car stopped moving.
“Really really,” she nodded.
“It’s not even a special day!!” He said.
“It's a whatever we want kinda day,” She assured him, as she followed him in and picked up a large pizza for Blum.
The high school student behind the cash register grinned at Levi, giving him a wink and a nod at the candy dish. Levi, as usual, took one and slipped it into his pocket even though Patty knew he’d just throw it out once he was home.
“So,” she asked, leaning up against the counter as the employee went to find their food, “I was thinking we could rent a movie. And we get into our PJs early and keep watching movies until we pass out in the living room.”
Levi considered, then nodded.
“Alright, but only one romance movie.”
“Fair, but only ONE wilderness survival movie,” she countered.
He held out his hand.
She shook on it.
Their pizza arrived, and it smelled like heaven.
“See you soon, Ms. Blum!” The high schooler smiled, and she waved as they got back into the car. Both their stomachs rumbled as the Volvo filled up with the herbaceous scent of homemade marinara and fresh toppings. By the time they reached the house and pulled into the one-car garage, they were practically drooling.
“Get the plates!” Patty said as she slid the pizza box onto the kitchen island.
“Already on it!!” Levi said, skidding on his socks to the cabinets.
Food was served, and they were eating within minutes of their arrival. As they stood in the kitchen, holding their plates and eating their slices, Patty decided this was the right time to talk to Levi. About what Stan had talked about.
“So, chickadee, did your dad talk to you about anything in particular this week?” she started.
Levi squinted, “We were thinking of doing a hike out to the ridge next week. Why?”
She considered, rolling around the best approach before deciding there wasn’t really a tactful way to say Your father thinks you need a therapist.
“Well, your dad and I have been talking and we want you to maybe meet with somebody to talk.”
“Really? Who?”
“Just a professional listener. It might be good.”
“Oh, you mean a doctor?” Levi considered.
“Well, a therapist. But yes,” Patty said.
“Do you think I need one?” Levi asked and Patty shrugged as she got herself another slice.
“I think everybody could use one. Your father and I have both seen therapists before,” She said. She had stopped, a few years ago, when she finally felt like she got her feet back under her. Stan had continued going.
Levi looked at his plate. He had eaten everything except the crust. He saved those for last. Glancing at the pizza, he had to make the decision between ending his meal with his crusts or getting another slice. There was no going back once he made that decision.
The crusts won out.
“Sure,” Levi shrugged, as he bit down. “I’ll see a therapist.”
Patty nodded, and tried not to deflate too much, “I’ll call your father tomorrow and see who he had in mind.”
Levi really didn’t think he wanted a therapist. But he had to admit his parents probably had the right idea.
He was just a little off.
Not off in a bad way, like a hurt neighborhood pets kind of way, but he felt sometimes like he was a different species. Of course, that idea was ridiculous. He was the same as everybody else in the house but he couldn’t help but feel like a specimen behind glass. Sometimes, when others thought he wasn’t looking he’d catch them staring at him. It was worse when he just knew something about them. He always knew when Grace was faking being sick to avoid school. He always knew when Beverly was having a migraine.
Maybe it was just the house, though, he told himself. It was sensory overload with that many people living together because it wasn’t this bad at his mom’s house. It was quiet, for the most part, in the little cottage, with just the two of them sharing space. Occasionally, his mom had a boyfriend around, but they usually didn’t last long enough to clutter up the air.
Looking up from the dishwasher, he frowned.
“Hey, what happened to Austin?” he asked.
“Oh, it didn’t work out,” Patty dismissed it with a wave of her hand.
Austin had been a nice guy, though. He was tall, and called Levi “sport”, and liked to play catch in the backyard. Levi had found him nice enough if a little cliched. He had also lasted long enough for Levi to care to check in on the relationship. Six months.
“… Sorry,” he said.
“It’s alright! He had to move for a job and I am not moving back to the south again,” his mom said firmly. “Nope, been there done that.”
He was going to ask another question but Patty held up her hand.
“Enough about my love life. Go get into your PJs. It’s movie time.”
Levi obliged, dropping the subject of Austin and brushing the little things about him out of his mind. He took his backpack up the stairs, to where two bedrooms sat at the landing, with a bathroom in between them. The bathroom was new, renovated when they moved in, with a large shower and no bathtub. He turned left, to his room, and unpacked his bag onto his desk.
School was almost out, and he was caught up on all his homework, so the desk was extra tidy. Placing the laptop, the book, and the journal in a line, he measured the space between each with his pinky finger. Satisfied, he peeled off his clothes for the day and picked out his pajamas.
He stopped to look at himself in the mirror in the corner of the room. Growing up, he had decided, was unsettling. His knees hurt, all the time and his skin was starting to break out in red spots and bumps that hurt when he scratched them. Worse was that he was growing hair. Dark hair. It was mostly under his armpits, but he’d found one recently on his chest and furtively tugged it out before anybody else could see it.
“I’m going to start with Roman Holiday!” his mom called out, and he jumped.
“The Audrey Hepburn movie??” He squinted at the thought.
“You know it!!”
“…. FINE.”
He didn’t mind the movie so much, even if it was in black and white. Pulled away from examining his most recent changes, he picked out a pair of light cotton sleep pants and a shirt that said he was PROUD to be a STALLION. School spirit shirts were so embarrassing, he only wore them when he HAD to or when he was sleeping. He gave himself one last look in the mirror, and tried to tame the worst of his mop of thick curls when his fingers stopped mid tug.
There was a buzzing in the back of his teeth.
As he walked around his room, he felt it worse when he was near the window. Looking out at the dark yard, dappled from the light coming through the kitchen windows, he told himself he couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t, either, not at first. As he stared out into the darkness though he thought he saw something bobbing along outside. Like fireflies, but circling each other, weaving out a pattern as the noise in his teeth grew louder and…
Levi gasped, as he pulled his curtains shut and told himself everything was fine.
His heart was pounding in his throat and he retched, nearly losing his dinner before he choked it all back down. There was nothing, he told himself, outside. He opened the curtains again, looking out and this time there was nothing. No buzzing, no lights. Just the quaint little garden of his mother’s cottage.
“… See…” He told himself, and he mostly listened.
“Alright, Levi! The movie is ready! Bring the popcorn in and let’s get STARTED!” his mom called and Levi braced his hand over his chest. He told himself to be calm and he pushed everything else from his mind.
“Alright!! I’m coming!! Don't start the movie without me!!” He called back, racing down the stairs of the house and away from any other thought other than having a good time with movie night.
It was late, and Stanley couldn’t sleep.
He got up from his bed, pushing Richie’s heavy arm off his chest, and slipped out to the living room. He had the worst dream. He always had the worst dreams. It was dark, and there was a garden, and it had been full of fireflies except they weren’t really cute cuddly bugs. As they moved around, the leaves and branches they brushed against burst into flames.
Stan called Patty.
She had been dead asleep, he guessed, because she was still slurring her words when she answered.
“Staniel?” she mumbled.
“… Hey Patty…. is everything ok?” he asked, his throat dry. He could still taste smoke on his tongue. His skin felt parched.
“Nnnyes. Other than it’s… it’s 2 am,” she yawned. “Is everything ok?”
“Yes, Yes. Yes sorry. Everythings fine. I just…” he paused.
“… Did you have a feeling?” she asked.
“…. No,” he lied, “Just a dream.”
“Well alright,” she yawned, and he heard her whisper, “It’s nothing chickadee. Go back to sleep.”
“Levi’s alright?” he asked, wondering why his son had been sleeping next to Patty. Levi never climbed into another bed at home.
“Yeah, he’s fine. We fell asleep watching… uh….” she paused and then gave up trying to think so early, “… some movie about a castaway.”
“Was it Castaway?”
“What?”
“With Tom Hanks.”
“Oh. No. No, no Tom Hanks,” she yawned again. “… Sorry, I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”
Stan nodded, as the phone line went dead and he sat down on the large living room sectional. A door opened, to another bedroom, and he made out the short and dense shape of Eddie peeking out. Even with his sleep-addled eyes he could tell that Eddie was frowning, either in worry or concern (or a mixture of both) and he waved a hand to show he was alright.
“I’m fine,” he whispered, “Can’t sleep.”
“… Need to talk?”
It was impossible to tell if Eddie was asking out of obligation or care, as his voice still held the same brisk edge to it. Stan considered and shook his head.
“No, it was nothing.” They both knew that wasn’t entirely true, so Stan added, “No red balloons. No clowns. Just fireflies.”
Eddie seemed content with this and pulled back into his room before poking his head back out. “Is Richie in your room?”
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I….?”
“Steal away,” Stan sighed, “I’m going to be up for a while.”
Eddie nodded, sneaking out of his room even though the people who slept the lightest in the house were currently all up and moving. Stan dug the TV remote out from between the couch cushions. He turned on the massive 80 inch 4k monstrosity and turned down the volume so when he settled on a channel the soothing voice of David Attenborough was just barely audible over the sound of Richie and Eddie sneaking back into Eddie’s room.
Stan sighed, staring at the TV as a portion of the documentary about zebras gave way to the mating rituals of flamingos. He tried to shake the dream from his mind but found it was still lodged in there. The odd bobbing and weaving of the fireflies felt like it was burned into the back of his eyelids. They flashed at him with every blink.
The documentary had moved from the Sahara to the ocean, and finally was on the Tibetan mountains when Stanley finally fell asleep. Slumped against the cushions, he pulled a decorative pillow against his chest and hugged it close.
When he did finally fall back asleep, the sun was starting to peek through the trees and his exhausted body finally succumbed to the dreamlessness only afforded to the well and truly exhausted.