Chapter Text
Bill wished his brother good night and headed to his room, straight to bed, leaving just a trail of light coming from a little nightlight by the window.
The house was quiet, cold wind seeped through the crevices and eventually an old furniture would creak, the noises being muffled by walls and closed doors.
Watching the yellow light, Bill felt his mind finally quieting to peace as his eyelids slowly dropped, sleep overtaking him. And Bill closed his eyes only to open them to a dark litted place.
Stony walls yawned high above his head, vanishing in the dark, so tall that he couldn't see a single glimpse of the roof.
The air was sultry, suffocating and dry, a weird coolness involving Bill's body as he stood in place, frozen in confusion.
This was a dream, a feeling in his gut told him that, and so, bravery renowned, the redhead started to walk.
The soil was a mixture of dirt and jagged peebles of different types and shapes, and as Bill ventured around, walking aimlessly, he noticed that bigger rocks were splattered in random places, some full of cracks, others ingrained deep in the ground.
He touched the surface of the closest one, finding it particularly smooth and strangely cold.
It seemed ancient, an aged stone that was lying in that same place for decades, maybe centuries. Bill couldn't be sure, but the same feeling that had eased his mind earlier whispered that he was indeed touching something very old.
Running his fingers along it, he found crevices, long, deep lines that seemed to create a pattern as he kept exploring, the indentions sometimes being shallow and other times almost swallowing his finger whole.
Bill moved his hand in cadence with the shapes, following the rough shape of a swirl with strange, intricate symbols lying inside. It followed such a sequence that Bill quickly discarded the idea of them being random, it would be too big of a coincidence; they had to hold some meaning.
It felt like a crude work, though, done fast, maybe even angrily, if the sharp and chipped turns were any sign to go by.
Almost in a trance, Bill felt through the curious lineout more than once, and suddenly, with no real warning and perhaps even reason, a soft glow started to emanate through the symbols.
Bill woke up in his room, birds chirping outside as the sun invaded his curtains, marking the beginning of another Sunday.
The word home pushed itself into his mind, the very meaning of having somewhere to live, to belong and be at ease. A longing clouded his groggy senses and as sleep gave way to awareness, the dream also recedeed to a simple whisper of a memory.
There was someone moving across the street.
If not by the loud, obnoxious noises of an old trunk coming and going, Bill would certainly notice the new neighbor because of Georgie.
The little man had excitedly jumped to his big brother as soon as he stepped out of his room, holding his hand and rushing to the nearest window to point outside.
“Look, Billy! Someone bought that house!” He seemed so excited that Bill couldn’t help but laugh.
“Who is it?” He asked slowly, words carefully rolling through his tongue, a conscious effort being made to not stutter. He had been told that this could help, but it wasn’t foolproof, at all.
“I don’t know, it’s a man, he has a lot of stuff, a lot!” Georgie shared his observations, quickly turning his head in hope of catching another glimpse of the new resident to show Bill.
Derry was still a small city, mainly moved by crops and cattle creation. It sat among acres of nature in the heart of Maine, hidden and forgotten.
Of course, stores could be found there, some being pretty big even, but what had put Derry’s name in local maps was the food produced by the locals.
Bill knew that the big names were opening factories and exploiting the soil too, digging deep in search of iron and other kind of minerals, which was going to bring a great boost to the town, supposedly, but he understood Georgie’s enthusiasm.
Nothing ever happened in Derry, to the point that a new neighbor would probably be everyone’s highlight for days.
“C’mon, we n-need to have b-bre-breakfast,” Bill said, sighing frustrated as his stutter got the best of his speech once again.
“Can we meet him later?” Georgie asked with hopeful eyes, “You know it’s good eti--Etiq--”
“Etiquette,” Bill helped, almost tripping in the word himself.
“Yeah, that, to meet your new neighbor!”
Well, he did have a point. Looking through the window and seeing the Muellers approaching the newly occupied house with a pie was enough to convince the redhead.
“Alright, but after b-breakfast, let’s go,” Bill could only smile as Georgie cheered, the kid offering to also bake some pastry, since it seemed polite and a good idea, but the idea had to be turned down once they reached the first floor.
Their parents were discussing in the parlour, rushed voices would sometimes rise and Bill quickly took it as a sign to not linger inside.
Lately, they had been fighting for all the little reasons and Bill, in his fresh sixteen years, didn’t know how to help neither, not when they kept him away from all the important information and he could barely understand what was going on.
Pancakes would have to do, both for them and the man across the street.
The TV played in the background, urgent news saying that a factory had exploded in the previous night. Bill turned from the mix he was preparing, curiosity picked as Georgie used the time to change clothes.
The reporter explained in a serious tone that 102 people had died in the catastrophe, among them many children that lived near the site.
Baffled that he hadn’t heard a single noise all night long, Bill finished cooking with a heavy heart, feeling for all the lost lives. The incident lingered in his thoughts for a few minutes, being replaced by Georgie’s chattering when he returned.
They ate and washed the dishes, leaving with a plate of fluffy pancakes as their parents were still locked in their own room.
“Hey, no running,” Bill warned his brother, both crossing the peaceful street and reaching a green yard with some weeds growing around.
“Can I?” Georgie asked with a finger ready to ring the bell. With Bill’s approval, a long, sharp noise could be heard.
There was so much expectation over this new neighbor that Bill was even feeling somewhat nervous. And maybe he was right to do so, since the man who answered the call was exceptionally tall and, dare he say, attractive.
Well, he certainly had a lot of charm and elegance in his facial features, his happy blue eyes shone under the sun and he wore simple clothes that somehow managed to valorize his physique.
He didn’t seem to be from Maine, maybe he wasn’t even from the US.
“Hi, I’m Georgie Denbrough and this is Billy, my brother!” Georgie quickly jumped into conversation, even extending an arm for a handshake, a polite gesture he had seen over and over on TV.
The moment the stranger smiled, though, Bill broke off of his reverie. The stretch of lips hit him as plainly odd.
Too wide, or perhaps, too happy.
He caught sight of sharp, jagged teeth, but it was gone as quick as it had come. The impression that there was something wrong with his new neighbor remained, however.
“Heya Georgie,” The man said, taking the small hand and squeezing it with little strength, “I’m Robert, Robert Gray,” His voice was smooth and he had crouched down until he was eye-leveled with the kid, which meant a big descent.
Bill didn’t miss the too long nails when Robert slowly retreated his hand. The man probably didn’t care about clipping them, though the uneasiness in Bill’s inside only grew.
“And you must be Billy boy,” Robert was looking directly at him with unblinking eyes, once again smiling, looking so unnatural that Bill wanted to hand the pancakes and just leave.
“It’s actually W-William,” He corrected, suddenly not wanting to be on a nickname basis with that man.
“Oh, but Billy is such a cute name, don’t you think, Georgie?” Robert said in a strangely pleading voice, popping some vowels here and there as he kept his eyes glued on Bill’s face.
Robert didn’t hide his excitement when Georgie instantly took his side, and as much as he hated it, Bill knew when he had lost a cause.
“We came to welcome you,” The redhead tried to diverge from the topic, his arms already getting tired of holding all the pancakes.
He wanted to be done with it already, grab his brother and leave, especially when they already had plans of spending the day in the barrens.
“How lovely of you,” Robert whispered, getting up to his full height and towering over the Denbroughs, “I was right in moving here while my house is still under construction.”
“You won’t be living here forever?” Georgie asked, not noticing that prolonging the conversation was making his brother uncomfortable.
“I’m here only temporarily. Will be moving to Neibolt street as soon as possible.”
Neibolt was basically an old dump, though. It had a creepy well that was said to give access to the town’s sewer system and an old church that only opened for Sunday masses.
Rumours said that a cult operated there, but Bill hadn’t seen any suspicious people wearing cloaks. Not yet, at least.
How anyone wanted to live in that area was beyond Bill, but he wasn’t about to question someone else’s choices.
“That’s nice,” The redhead cut in, trying to end the conversation, an attempt that wasn’t missed by his neighbor, who showed him a rather crooked, almost predatory smile.
“Once my house is done I can show it to you,” Robert offered, seeming to get excited with his own idea once it rolled off his mouth, “Yes! I’ll show you everything!”
He didn’t wait for an answer and reached for the plate, his big hands almost covering Bill's whole.
The contact didn't last, though, as Bill hastily took a step back, leaving the pancakes and taking Georgie with a quick movement, both almost stumbling backwards and hitting the ground, but managing to create a considerable space between them and their neighbor.
"We n-need to go," The redhead didn't offer any explanation, pushing his younger brother through the stone path, towards the sidewalk all the while ignoring the confused looks Georgie was throwing in his direction.
What a damn psycho. He hoped they wouldn't meet Robert ever again.
"You didn't like him?" Georgie asked once they had made a beeline to the garage, helping Bill with the bicycle and hopping up in the free spot right behind him.
They were safe there. Away from the unblinking eyes of the weird man from across the street.
"Don't talk to him when I'm not around," Bill felt the need to say, cycling through the street as fast as he could, not missing the fact that Robert wasn't in the front yard anymore.
He felt that strange protective urge of not letting the man alone with his brother.
"Well, I found him nice. And pretty tall." Georgie mumbled and it came out as deficance to Bill’s ears, so much that a surge of anger made him stop and turn to his brother, berating him without a single stutter:
"Georgie, promise me you won't be near him when I'm not around!"
"Fine… I promise…"
The answer took longer than expected, but Bill trusted his brother enough to believe he wouldn’t be breaking his word.
As they crossed some streets, cutting Derry to reach the barrens, Bill glanced back one last time, catching a glimpse of Robert standing by the fence of his new home.
A chill crawled up his spine and he couldn’t be so sure, but he thought the man showed a smile before Bill had to hastily turn in order to avoid hitting a tree.
That man… Bill could only feel bad things coming from him.