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Twenty seven years.
Until this phone call it had been twenty seven years since Bill thought about his childhood, about Derry, about his brother, about his friends.
Well that last one wasn’t entirely true.
He forgot about five of them. Richie. Eddie. Ben. Mike. Beverly.
But not Stanley. Stan. His Stanny.
He should have forgotten about him, and he was now sure he would have if he hadn’t spent the past twenty seven years side by side with him.
Countless years of friendship. Twenty four years of dating. Twenty two years of living together. Sixteen years of marriage.
He was lucky enough to marry his highschool sweetheart and best friend.
Their perfect little life..
Well of course it wasn’t actually perfect.. There was no such thing. There were the countless times that Bill was woken up to Stan screaming from nightmares he couldn’t even remember having. The amount of times Stan’s OCD was being triggered by something he couldn’t quite name, but knew he feared more than anything. And then the joint mourning of a childhood they could hardly remember having.
It was hard sometimes. But they did it together. That’s what they were supposed to do. It’s how they were meant to do it.
So yeah, even though it wasn’t always perfect.. it still felt perfect to Bill.
Everything had felt perfect until he answered his phone a minute or so ago.
When the person on the other end explained that they were Mike Hanlon from Derry.
Two names Bill hadn’t thought about in years.
Mike Hanlon.
Derry.
The words came into his mind and screamed so loudly it set all of his nerves into a frenzy of emotions.
Emotions he hasn’t felt in years.. Emotions he hated, yet also somehow longed for.
“Mike?”, Bill suddenly asks after his introduction, “Uhh.. Hey Mike.. Uhh what’s going on? It’s been a long time”.
“It’s happening again”, Mike said, he voice somehow sounded calm and collected, almost rehearsed, but also with undertones of terror, “We need you Big Bill. We need you to come back”.
Bill felt a big rush of recollection and also.. confusion.
‘It’s happening again..’
‘It’
Why did those words make his stomach drop.. and why did a question instantly jump to his mind.. one that he literally couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“D-did you talk to Sta-stan”, Bill said, and instantly felt off about the way the words left his mouth.
He stuttered.
And sure he still stuttered sometimes.. Mostly when he had just woken up, when he was tired, or when he was drunk.. or when him and Stan got in arguments. When his emotions were heightened so greatly that he couldn’t make himself talk slow enough for his mouth to catch up to his brain, or for him to do one of his stupid tactics like translating he words to french in his head and then back to english before he could say them.
But even in those heightened moments with emotions flooding together and butting heads, Stan always was patient with Bill’s words.. no matter how angry he was he always let Bill get the words out.
God, he loved him.
His Stanny.. His sweet Stanny.
“Yeah, I called him like five minutes ago. I was just going to call him and let him talk to you since I found out you two are married but he seemed….. off? I don’t know how to describe it but he seemed-..”.
“Sc-scared”, Bill finished Mike's sentence.
“Yes, but well.. the others also seemed scared but he just seemed-“.
Bill checked out, not able to fully listen to his friend when his brain went spiraling.
Stan was home. Bill knew he was. Stan had been there all morning, he kept coming in to Bill’s office while he was trying to edit the script for the screen play of The Attic Room. Bill had gotten frustrated with him maybe twenty minutes ago.
Stan had come in for the fourth time that hour, asked Bill if he knew when he would be done because he thought it would be nice for them to go to the park with the new birdbath.. look at some birds.. and then get dinner.
And Bill snapped at him. Told him he was working and to give him space.
Stan didn’t get mad. Just looked hurt and walked out.
But even though there was that small bit of tension Stan KNEW that when he went into panic mode he was supposed to go to Bill. It was something they had worked through so many times, and at this point in their marriage Stan was pretty good at going to him.
Knowing that Bill would always drop anything to help him in those moments.. even when he was moody and didn’t feel like talking and needed to focus.
He would always have time for Stan when his brain was battling against him.
“I have to go..”, Bill said suddenly.
“Wait Bill-“, Mike said.
“I-I know”, Bill interrupted again, “I know it’s important and I know we need to t-talk.. but right now I need to go”.
“Bill-“.
“Mike I will call you back, I pr-promise”.
And then Bill hung up, he didn’t wait for a response.
Mike would understand. They would figure this out. But first there was a more pressing matter.
Bill stood up, running a hand through his hair before taking his reading glasses off and placing them on the desk.
He started to walk to the cracked door, “Stan?”, he called out as he opened it.
Nothing.
No response.
Quiet.
It felt thick and weighed onto his chest.
His brain swirled with words. Words that meant nothing. Words that meant everything.
The Losers. Georgie. Pennywise. Turtle. Swear.
I swear.
They swore. They swore they would come back.
But as all these memories flooded back, he remembered how worried he was for Stan throughout everything.
How scared Stan was.
“Stan!”, he called out louder as he stepped out of the room.
And the only thing he was greeted with was the pitter patter of cat feet and a soft little bell that was on their cat’s collar as she ran across the hallway.
Bill’s stomach sunk down to the floor.
“Stanley!”, he yelled louder.
Nothing.
He looked around their apartment from his place in the hallway.
He needed to move. He needed to get to him. Something in him told him that every second counted. But he felt frozen.
Does he go to the living room or their bedroom first? The kitchen? Their bathroom?
Suddenly as that thought came it spoke to him. Screamed through all the others.
“Stanley!”, he called out again, walking in the direction of their bedroom, but zooming past their bed and going straight to the bathroom door.
Which was shut.
Odd.. VERY odd.. not correct.
Stan didn’t really shut the bathroom door. Neither of them did. There wasn’t exactly anything that was left up to the imagination at this point.
He knocked on the door.. something he hadn’t really done when entering a room in their house for a long time.
“Stanley?”, he called out, softer this time, but still urgent.
No response.
Bill put his ear up to the door. He heard movement. Heard a faucet running.
Stan was in there.
So why the fuck was he not answering?
Was he being petty about Bill snapping at him earlier?
No, even if he was mad at Bill’s shittiness he would answer if he heard how anxious he sounded.
“Stanley!”, he said even more urgently, before he reached for the handle.
It was locked.
Something was WRONG!
Very very wrong.
“Stanley, let me in!”, Bill said.
The faucet shut off.
There was no movement outside of that.
“Stan”, Bill said, before he banged his body against the door, while he tried again to turn the knob, “Stanley, babe, let me in.. I-I-I just.. I’m w-w-worried. P-please”, he tried to sound calm, but it was obvious he was begging.. plus him banging his body against the door also probably gave the panic awake.
But everything in his brain was SCREAMING at him, telling him he HAD to get in there, that something absolutely terrible was going to happen if he didn’t get in there NOW.
“I’m fine, Bill”, A voice finally came through. But it was quiet. Weak. Shaky. Scared.
“You’re not! I kn-know you f-fucking aren’t. M-m-mike called m-me. Let me the fuck in right n-now!”, Bill yelled.
Then he got no response again.
Bill felt terrified. So terrified that he didn’t know what to do.. He felt helpless.
But then an idea came to his brain.
There was a key to every room in the house. A skeleton key he was pretty sure it was called. It was in the kitchen. He could grab it.
“Stan. Stanny if you d-don’t open the d-door I’m getting the key. I’m getting the k-key and I’m coming in there!”.
There was whimper on the other side of the door.
Bill didn’t know what that meant, until there was a click from the door knob.
Then the knob turned.
And suddenly before Bill could even process what was happening Stan was in his arms, hugging him tightly. And then Bill heard the sound of something metal dropping from his hand and onto the floor, as Bill instinctively wrapped his arms around Stan.
Stan was shaking in his arms. He let out a small cough, but no other sounds escaped his mouth until he let out a breath.
“Did he call you?”, Stan finally said. He would sound calm to most, but Bill could notice all of the small signs that he was close to breaking down.
The shakiness of his voice. The way he trembled. The squeaky undertone of his words.
“Yes..”, Bill said, gently rubbing his bare back.
He was simply wearing a pair of underwear and it was obvious he had only been seconds away from stripping out of those and getting into the full tub.
“I can’t do it Bill. I can’t go back”, Stan whimpered into Bill’s shoulder.
“You can”, Bill said, trying not to sound desperate, but comforting.
“Bill I can’t. I’m so scared all of the time. I wake up and I’m scared. I go to work and I’m scared. I simply exist and I’m scared. I can’t go back and fight the worst part of my childhood. I just fucking can’t Bill. And if I can’t go back, I-I have to-“, he broke off his sentence as his voice cracked, “I can’t let you all die because of me”.
Bill stood there for a second. Thinking. Processing.
And before he could think of a response Stan started to curl in on himself. Letting his knees loosen as he started to fall to the floor, the only thing holding him up was Bill’s arms wrapped around him.
Bill gently let go, making sure Stan wouldn’t just let himself hit the floor hard, and instead letting him slowly sink down to the floor.
He knew that right now Stan needed to escape the touch, and just holding him in his arms would make things worse.
So he let Stan sit on the floor, scooting back a little bit so he was against the wall, before he put his face into his knees that were now pulled up to his chest.
“Stanley”, Bill said, as he moved to sit next to him on the floor.
Stan didn’t respond. Not for a moment at least.
“I’m so scared, Bill”, Stan softly said, not looking up, “I would rather die than go back.. to face…… IT”.
“Stanley”, Bill said again, still at a loss for words.
He spent so much of his life with just knowing the right response to things. Sure, his brain and his mouth failed him sometimes, but the right thoughts were always there.
But right now.. right now he didn’t know what to say.
“We are gonna die anyway”, Stan said, “I’d rather do it myself than be ripped apart, to be murdered, to be fucking dirty again. I can’t be dirty like that again Bill. The sewers, the mud, the blood. The way it clings to my skin. The way it’s sticky. The way it dries down in the worst way possible. If I die now, then I die clean”.
“I can’t promise w-we will be okay. I definitely can’t pr-promise that you won’t get dirty again.. Actually I can honestly guarantee we will have to get dirty again. And S-Stan.. the thing is.. I’m scared too. But I know going back is what we are supposed to do.. And if I’m too busy planning my h-husband’s f-f-funeral I definitely won’t be able to do that”.
The last part was supposed to kinda be a joke. To lighten the mood a bit.
But Stanley didn’t laugh.
He did lift his head though, but still avoided Bill’s gaze.
“I can’t do this w-without you, Stanny”, Bill said, and Stan looked up at him.
“Do you really think we can beat it?”, Stan asked, “I just-.. I’m not going to go through all that again, if it’s for nothing”.
“I think….”, Bill started to say thoughtfully, “I th-think we at least n-need to try. And I think that if we stick together. All s-seven of us.. Then I think we have a pretty good sh-shot”.
“You’re scared too?”, Stan asked.
Bill sighed, but reached out for his hand, “T-terrified”.
“But we can get through it?”.
“I th-think so”, Bill responded.
“Together?”, Stan asked as he squeezed Bill’s hand.
“Together”, Bill agreed.