Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Girl From Outer Space
Eleven had felt the heat of the blast grazing her skin, nearly burning it. Before she could be taken by the inferno in the collapse of The Upside Down, she was transported somewhere else… somewhere rather unexpected.
It was like hands reached out, grasping onto her, pulling her down, down, down and into a place she had never been to before.
Her knees hit the cement floor, and her hands followed suit. She panted heavily, looking around wide eyed with terror as she realized there was human remains all around her, strewn about in a bloody scene. She didn’t recognize the place, but she was sure it had to have been Hell where she landed.
Was she dead? She had to have been, there was no surviving that explosion. Still, dead or alive, where was this?
Her eyes spotted something. A mass of something that looked vaguely humanoid shape seemingly asleep in the pile of bloody remains. A clown, or at least something resembling one.
Seven figures stood nearby, all frozen on the spot, staring at her. One of them was holding a flashlight, a red haired woman about her age. The rest of them were men of similar age, each carrying some sort of weapon in hands. Her eyes then landed on the man with dark curls and thick glasses.
His dark eyes, they were familiar. They were a beautiful obsidian void she’d stared into time and time again. The only difference is they were magnified by dark glasses.
“Mike?!” Eleven called in shock, scrambling to get to her feet.
Her voice, it had echoed in the room, making the clown twitch a little as he seemingly heard her. Eleven didn’t notice, not in her state of shock, as she made her way over to ‘Mike’. It only took a moment to realize he was looking at her as if he didn’t even know her. Come to think of it, who were all these other people? They weren’t the party, that was for sure.
“I’m Richie. Who the fuck are you?” This ‘Mike’ asked, his eyes wide, his hands gripping tightly to a crowbar he’d brought with him.
Eleven realized quickly, this wasn’t Mike at all. Mike never spoke like that, not to her of all people especially. Even his clothes were different. A vibrant orange t-shirt rested beneath a pale blue Hawaiian shirt and dark jeans. Sure, Mike also wore converse, but that was the only thing similar about the two men from what she could see.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard movement behind her. A wet, sloshing sound that made her spin around quickly. Her eyes landed on the clown as he seemed to be climbing out of the blood and gore he has previously asleep in.
How many bodies were responsible for that much blood and guts? It was a question that shot through her mind like a bullet to the brain.
“What have we here? A bedtime snack? How kind of you to feed old Pennywise.” The clown said in an eerie voice.
“Get the fuck out of here if you want to survive! Go!” The imposter who’s name seemed to be Richie shouted at her, moving forward to try and protect her.
“Y-You d-d-don’t want to be here f-for this.” Another man with auburn hair said, moving up so Eleven was a little better protected.
Eleven looked at the clown, sensing he was a danger. One that was deceiving in nature. Somewhat like Vecna, but… perhaps worse? No, nothing was worse than Vecna. Nothing was smarter or more cunning than that vile beast whose blood ran through her veins.
The clown morphed his body into a spider-like shape and began charging towards them. Eleven was full of rage. No matter how exhausted she felt in that moment, her fiery rage could not be snuffed out. It burned strong, and eternal.
As the spidery clown made his way towards them, he froze in place, looking quite surprised all of a sudden. Eleven pushed past Richie and the other guy that was shielding her from the clown, her hand outstretched as she willed it away.
Away. Far Away.
The amount of force she had to use, it felt like a muscle tearing from the flesh. Screaming, she pushed it back towards the concrete wall behind him, her eyes beginning to bleed along with her nose as she forced it into a dimension she was opening on pure rage alone. She didn’t quite know where the clown was being sent, just that it was no longer going to be able to reach them when she was done with it.
Once the clown was pushed into the portal, she willed it closed, sealed shut until only a shadowy outline remained, burned into the concrete. It was gone. It wasn’t coming back.
Falling to her knees, Eleven was drained. She had nothing left to give. Landing on her stomach, she looked up in her peripherals at Richie who stared down at her, mouth agape, a stunned look on his face.
“M…ike…” She whimpered out before her eyes rolled back, and her eyelids closed.
***
“She’s alive… right?” Stan asked hovering over her, a baseball bat in hand.
“She fucking better be, she just saved our asses.” Richie said kneeling down next to her.
Bill knelt down on the other side of her, noticing a tattoo that read ‘011’ on her wrist. Nothing about this girl made sense. Where had she come from? Who was she? Better yet why was she there at all?
“We have to get her back to the surface.” Beverly told the others, “If she can’t walk, we might have to carry her.”
“We don’t even know what she is. I mean, what the Hell did she even do to The Clown? Not a single one of us could have done that…” Eddie spoke up nervously.
“Ya scared Eds?” Richie smirked looking back at him, “Want me to keep you safe from the big bad girl from outer space?”
“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Well, Eddie has a point, we don’t really know anything about her.” Ben spoke up.
“We can’t just leave her here.” Beverly looked at Ben who reluctantly nodded.
“I got her.” Mike said handing Bill the gun he brought before he scooped Eleven up in his arms.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here… if she really took care of that fucking clown then we’ve got a lot less problems to worry about in the future.” Richie said pushing up his glasses.
“Do you think she just shoved him into the concrete wall?” Eddie questioned as they headed back through the sewer system together.
“I d-d-don’t know b-but if it holds him, we won’t have to come b-b-back.” Bill said looking over his shoulder at the wall one last time.
It took them a while to get back to the surface again. They exited through the sewer tunnel that led them to the barrens. It was close to their club house that Bed had built many years ago. Somehow it was still intact.
The group of mostly men headed down into the club house, one at a time. Mike laid Eleven down on the hammock, and the group stood around her, watching over her for a long moment.
Beverly turned to look at them all, “What should we do? She’s gonna need somewhere to stay.”
“The guys looked between one another, as if waiting for one of them to step forward and offer a solution.
“Guys.” Beverly said seriously, “I can’t take her to Portland, but… if she’s here now, maybe this is where she needs to be for the moment.”
Stan spoke up first, “There’s no way I can just bring home some random girl; my parents will flip.”
“Yeah, same here. My mom will lose her mind on me.” Eddie nodded.
Ben sighed softly, “I mean… she seems to really like Richie…”
Eddie spoke up, “Yeah, that’s true. Maybe he should take care of her. I mean, it’s not like your dad is home much, and your mom is…”
Eddie shut his mouth immediately, and Richie just nodded, “I get it, thanks for the fucking reminder dipshit…”
“So, it’s decided then.” Beverly said, urging him to agree.
Richie sighed, “Fuck.”
How had he gotten wrapped up in taking a girl home? It was already bad enough they had gone to fight the bastard that had ruined their childhood, but now this. That was a lot in one day for Richie to swallow.
“Richie, we need to figure out where she came from and how to get her back.” Mike tried to convince him.
Richie sighed, pushing his glasses up, “Fine. I’ll bring her to my place… but I’m not carrying her there, so I’ll just wait until she fucking wakes up.”
“Are you sure? You want us to stay with you?” Beverly asked.
Richie nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure. Just go on home. I’m sure she’s not gonna shove me into another dimension the same as she did to the fucking clown…”
Richie wasn’t entirely sure on that, but he was willing to bet on it at the very least.
Everyone wished him the best and headed off. He knew Beverly only had a few days left in town, and as it was, she was staying at Bill’s place in the spare bedroom. There wasn’t enough room for their saviour there.
Sitting down on one of the sturdier chairs that Ben had crafted in his free time, Richie picked up one of the comic books still laying around in the club house. He read through about three quarters of it before he heard a gasp.
Eleven sat up quickly and looked around, her eyes then falling on Richie. Richie put down the comic book and looked at her, “Welcome back… what’s your name?”
Eleven stared at him for a moment before she looked at her feet, assessing the thing she was laying on. She’d never been on one of these things before, but she’d seen them in movies.
“…Jane.”
“Jane. Last name?” Richie asked curiously.
Eleven looked up at him, “No.”
“No? That’s weird last name.” Richie furrowed his brows.
“It’s not my last name… I’m not going to tell you my last name.” She said simply before she tried to get up, only to flip the hammock, sending herself to the ground.
Richie immediately scrambled to help her up, “Hey, careful. You nearly bashed the fuck out of your face trying to get off that thing. Are you ok?”
Eleven looked at him, examining his face before she spotted the small differences between Richie and Mike. For one, Richie had longer teeth, and a few more freckles on his face. His hair was much longer and it seemed to curl naturally.
Jane nodded, “Yeah. Where am I?”
“It’s just a clubhouse. Unless you mean where we are on a map. That would be Derry Maine. Where did you even come from anyway? I mean, I saw you go through that portal but, that’s about all I saw before the fucking thing closed behind you.”
“It does not concern you.” She said simply.
Something about the way Jane spoke, it just didn’t sound right to Richie. It was like she had been held back a few grades and struggled to verbalize what she was thinking. It was hard to explain, but something was off about her, powers aside.
Richie got Eleven seated on the chair he had been sitting on, and he pulled up another chair to speak to her at eye level, “Look… if you’re worried about me reporting you to the fucking cops, don’t. Clearly, you’re special, and I’m not talking special needs. You’ve got powers of some sort, and I can only imagine we’d be in an E.T. situation if anyone actually tried to turn you in.”
“E.T.?” Eleven scrunched her nose at that.
“As in the movie.” Richie said with a shrug, “Look, bottom line: you saved us and so many others today with what you did to that clown. I just want to help you get to wherever you need to go. Where are you from? Maybe I can help you.”
Eleven looked away at that, “I can’t go back… its too dangerous.”
“Are people going to try and kill you or something?” Richie questioned with concern in his magnified eyes.
Eleven nodded her head, a serious expression on her face. Richie looked pensively at her before he stood up, “Fuck it. You’re going to have to stay with me then.”
“It’s not a good idea.” Eleven said.
“Well, if you stay here, you’ll probably get rained on, and it doesn’t seem like there’s anywhere else for you to go, so if I were you, I’d take the fucking offer. You need food and rest. Let me at least get you somewhere to sleep for the night.” Richie tried to convince her.
Eleven looked thoughtful, and a little bit reluctant, but ultimately, she nodded her head.
Richie helped her out of the club house and shut the hatch that kept it hidden from others. The walk from the Barrens to his house wasn’t exactly a short walk, but Eleven kept up a determined pace beside Richie. Surprisingly, he found himself at a loss for words most of the way. Perhaps it was her demeanor that made her hard to talk to, but either way, he chalked it up to her having gone through a lot.
Eventually he stopped along the way at one of the diners on main street. Eleven followed him inside, her guard up.
Richie got them seated in a plush red booth together by the window. It was oddly the first time he’d ever been there with a girl that wasn’t Beverly. It probably looked as though he was on a date, and with a girl much more attractive than most people might have thought he’d be sitting with. Not that it mattered to Richie anyway.
“So, what do you feel like eating?” Richie asked her.
Eleven looked over the menu before looking at Richie, “Waffles.”
Looks like she can read at least. He thought as he considered her many quirks so far.
When the waitress approached them, Richie ordered Eleven her waffles and a plate of fries for himself along with two cokes. He wasn’t overly hungry, not after everything that had happened, but he felt it best to eat something at least.
“I’ll be right back.” Eleven said before getting up and going towards the bathroom.
“Yeah, no problem. Take your time.” Richie said as he remained seated, his eyes scanning the streets outside.
A big part of him wondered if she was trying to make an escape or something. If she was, there was no way out in the bathrooms of that diner, but he could also understand. If she felt she was in danger, maybe she felt the need to stay on the run.
Richie decided to head to the men’s washroom, using some soap and water on his hands to get off any dirt and grime he may have picked up in the sewers. He headed back quickly to his seat, noting Eleven still hadn’t come out of the bathroom just yet.
Richie mulled over in his head all the possibilities of what she could be. Maybe she wasn’t even a human? Then again, how many non-humans would order waffles? That seemed particularly stupid of him to think.
When Eleven returned to the booth, Richie looked over at her, “You feeling ok?”
Eleven shrugged, not willing to say much. Richie fixed his glasses, “Look, you don’t have to talk if you’re not feeling like it but, if you do feel like talking, I’m all ears.” He said to her.
Before anything else could be said, the waitress came by, bringing them some cokes to drink. “Thanks.” Richie said to her before taking his own drink in hand.
Eleven didn’t waste any time, bringing her drink to her lips. Clearly she was thirsty. Maybe that was the only reason she hadn’t run off yet, she was acting like a stray cat that hung around humans for food before trying to run off.
Richie noticed her drain the glass immediately and he hurriedly slid his cup closer to her, “Go ahead, drink as much as you need.”
Eleven looked from the still full coke, finishing off her own before she looked at Richie, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. I’ll just get another one when the food comes.” He assured her.
Eleven hesitated for only a moment before she put down the glass she had finished with and began drinking from Richie’s next.
Richie looked at her a bit awkwardly, “So… you haven’t really asked me any questions… um… I’m sure you must have some though.”
Who in their right might would see a killer clown bathed in gore and not have some questions about it? Then again, was this girl in her right mind?
Eleven looked up at Richie as she drank before she let the straw go from her lips, and she put the glass on the table.
“About the clown?” Eleven asked.
“Yeah, about the clown.” Richie said looking at her seriously, “I wish I could tell you more about the clown but, all I really know is It’s been fucking around in Derry for a long time now, but it only comes out every 27 years to feed. It’s some sort of demon or something, none of us are quite sure what the fuck it is, but it’s powerful. It can turn into pretty much anything. All I really know is, it likes fear. Somehow that makes the people it eats taste better.”
Eleven listened to this and just nodded her head in response. Richie looked at her for a long moment and cocked his head to the side, “You’ve seen something similar… haven’t you?”
Eleven locked eyes with him but didn’t give a response. Before another word could be said, their food was there. The waitress put down the waffles and the fries in front of them, “More cokes?”
“Yes please.” Richie nodded watching the waitress take off with their cups.
Eleven picked up her fork and knife and began cutting into the waffles easily. They were already covered in syrup and whipped cream when they arrived. They looked delicious, but Richie had very little appetite for the moment.
“I get it, you don’t wanna talk about it. That’s fine with me, I just want you to know if you’ve seen some shit, I’ll believe you. After everything I’ve seen, I’m not overly quick to judge.” Richie said as he picked up a fry and began to eat slowly.
The waitress brought over some new glasses of coke before dashing off quickly to get back to the kitchen. Richie watched her go before he returned his eyes to Eleven.
Eleven looked at him but didn’t speak. It appeared to Richie that she had a lot on her mind and perhaps she just wanted to focus on eating after everything she’d been dealing with.
Richie wasn’t used to being silent for long, but it seemed Eleven was fond of it. He decided to change the topic. “So, Jane. Who’s Mike exactly?”
Eleven looked up at him, “My boyfriend.”
Richie looked at her, feeling an odd sense of relief, “Oh, I see… but… wait… he looks like me?”
Eleven nodded after finishing one of the waffles on her plate, “Different, but the same…”
“Fuck, alright… well… what’s he like?” Richie asked, eating with more intrigue in his eyes.
“He’s kind. He’s good to our friends, and he likes Dungeons and Dragons.” Eleven said softly.
“Nerd alert. I bet he’s missing you a fuck ton right now.” Richie said softly, “I can find a way to get you back to him, I just need-”
“No.” Eleven shook her head, “It’s not safe for him if I go back. Its not safe for any of them.”
The discarded knife on the table began to tremble, and Richie eyed it for a moment, assuming this was her telekinetic abilities making it rattle like that. She was upset, and Richie could read that much at least.
Richie looked at her softly, “Well fuck… if that’s true, then you can stay with me at least until I go to school in the fall of ’89.”
The knife stopped rattling, and Eleven looked back at him, listening to him intently.
He stared at his fries for a moment, “Just, you might have to hide yourself when my dad’s home and when my moms… sober.” He said softly, “N-Not that my moms ever sober to be fucking honest, she’s all about those ‘air-force cokes’ as she call them, but…” Richie pushed up his glasses.
“Your mom is not sober?” Eleven asked confused, like a child who didn’t understand the definition of sober in its entirety.
“Yeah, I mean, she’s an alcoholic. It’s pretty much gotten worse with age. We’ve taken her to rehab a couple of times, and every fucking time she seems to do ok, but the moment she’s back home in Derry, she just… goes right fucking back to it. I’m not sure why.” Richie shrugged, trying to downplay how much his heart twisted in his chest just speaking about it.
Eleven looked at him for a long moment before she spoke, “I’ll be careful.” She promised.
Richie sighed softly and looked down at his plate, “Well, you did a real fucking good job with your waffles, you want my fries too?” He offered, pushing the plate towards her.
Eleven gratefully began to finish off the fries left over. He was impressed by how much she was eating in one go, then again, it was a reasonable amount of food between the two of them for one person to eat.
Once she finished the fries in silence, Richie left some cash on the table, enough for a decent tip before he walked with Eleven towards his house.
“So, my dad’s a dentist, and my mom, well, she used to sell fucking Avon, but she stopped doing that when I got to the end of middle school. As for me, I’ve been taking some shifts here and there at the grocery store stocking the shelves. They used to let me do cash register work but they said I talked to much and too inappropriately. Whatever, fuck them.” He informed her as they walked.
Eleven seemed to listen to him when he rambled on, not telling him to stop talking like most people. It felt nice to be listened to.
They eventually reached his house. “Well, here it is. My house.” Richie figured since it was still before 5pm, his father wouldn’t be home yet. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside first to peak around. He spotted his mother passed out on the couch and immediately let Eleven inside.
“Well, that’s my mom. She’s in another alcohol coma again it looks like…” He said dryly as she had an empty bottle of whiskey next to her.
Eleven looked at her for a long moment, and then she moved on to look at the different pictures on the walls. Richie followed her, “I guess I can give you a quick tour before taking you upstairs. That’s just a bunch of boring old family photos.”
Her dark eyes then locked on a picture of Richie’s mother and his aunt Karen when they were younger.
Richie noticed Eleven begin to point at his Aunt Karen. “Karen Wheeler. You know Karen Wheeler?” Eleven asked him surprised.
Richie’s eyes widened, “Yeah, she’s my aunt who lives in Hawkins Indiana. I haven’t seen her since I was really young though. Why, you know her? Holy fuck, you must if you recognized her.”
“Mike’s mom.” Eleven said to Richie.
It was all finally clicking in his head, “Wait, wait wait… you’re fucking dating my cousin? Oooh shit! This whole thing makes a lot more sense now!” Richie exclaimed as he ran to the bookshelf that was gathering dust, pulling a photo album from the shelf.
Eleven moved closer as he flipped through a few pages before stopping on a picture of Richie and Mike standing side by side in matching Christmas outfits. They had to have been about seven or so at the time.
“Mike.” Eleven gripped the book, staring down at her boyfriend, her eyes starting to water, “You’re Mike’s cousin…” She said as if she just realized this for the first time that very moment.
“Yeah, for almost 18 years now. We were born around the same time, I’m older by almost a month though.” Richie said pushing up his glasses as they managed to slip down the bridge of his nose, “Now that I know where you’re from… can I ask why you don’t want to go back?”
Eleven slowly handed Richie the book, “The Military… they’re looking for me. They think I’m dead. It’s better they do. They won’t stop coming if they know I live.”
Richie exchanged looks with Eleven, but nodded his head, “Ok… I get it. I won’t tell anyone who you are or why you’re here.”
Eleven looked at him, “…Promise?”
“Promise.” Richie nodded before putting the album back on the shelf, “Come on. I’ll show you where you can stay from now on.”
Richie climbed the stairs that were directly across from the front door and led Eleven to his bedroom. He opened the door and let her inside, “The bathroom is just across the hall, and if you need to hide, I have a closet.”
Richie opened the closet door, plenty of shirts were hanging inside, but it was quite spacious, wide enough that a person Eleven’s size could lay down in there. His room was overall clean, but he did have a pile of discarded clothes in the corner of the room rather than using his laundry hamper. His bed wasn’t made, but it he just had a light sheet laying on top of the bedding, and a single pillow.
He had a bunch of posters on his walls, some of them were of bands Eleven likely didn’t recognize, and some of them were movie posters. One of the posters above his bed depicted a blonde woman in a red one piece bathing suit, her head tilted with a big smile on her face, and one hand in her voluptuous hair. Farrah Fawcett. It was a poster gifted to him by Eddie a few birthdays back.
Along the edges of his full-length mirror were polaroid pictures of him and his friends over the years. Eleven spent a little longer looking over the polaroids.
It seemed like she was admiring the friendships he had. Richie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Um… I don’t have any girl clothes…. Obviously.”
Eleven looked up at him, “It’s fine.”
Richie looked thoughtful, “I can see what my mom has. I’ll find something for you to wear and then I can wash your clothes if you want. I’ll just sleep downstairs on the couch once I move my mom to her bed.”
Eleven nodded, “Thank you.”
Richie headed towards his parent’s bedroom and nervously opened each drawer, scared he was going to stumble across his mother’s underwear. That was the last thing he needed to make his day just a little worse.
He found her drawer of night dresses, and despite them looking old fashioned, they were reasonable to sleep in. He took a couple of them and headed back to his bedroom.
Holding up a white nightgown with purple flowers and a pink nightgown with white trim, Richie shrugged, “How about these old lady night gowns? Do they work for you?”
Eleven took them into her hands and nodded at him, “Yes. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Richie then picked up his dirty clothes and began tossing them into the hamper, successfully cleaning the mess in the corner of his room, “Just toss your clothes into this hamper and then I’ll come back in and take them to the washing machine.”
Richie watched Eleven nod in acknowledgement before he exited his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Heading to the bathroom, he closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were tired, and his hair was frazzled. Richie wasn’t even sure how his day had gone the way it had. Sure, they’d been planning an attack on the clown for over a month, but he had thought him and his friends would defeat the clown themselves… or die trying.
It was a grim thought, but never in a million years did he imagine his cousin Mike’s girlfriend from Hawkins Indiana would jump through a portal and save their asses like that.
He took off his glasses and splashed some water onto his face before he dried his face off, pushing his glasses back onto his face. He fixed his hair a little before he decided to leave the bathroom. Heading back to his door, he knocked on it, which was such a foreign concept to him.
“You dressed?” He asked softly.
“Yeah.” Eleven said through the door.
Richie opened the door, spotting her wearing the pink and white night gown out of the two he had given her. He picked up his clothing hamper and looked at her, “Well… if there’s anything you need let me know. I’ve got an unopened water bottle on the dresser. Just don’t come out of my room until you see my dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. He’ll be home any minute now but, I’ll come check on you before I go to sleep on the couch.”
Eleven looked at him, “Thank you, Richie.”
Richie smiled at her, “Don’t mention it.” With that, he headed downstairs, taking the clothing hamper with him.
It was going to be a long night, but he was prepared to sleep in peace knowing the clown was finally taken care of.