A/n: I've been writing this for the past couple of days, wanted to have it ready for today. Happy Halloween! 🎃

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𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤
𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 '𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤
𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

- NKOTB, The Right Stuff

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     "Take everything but the Delicious Deals, guys," Eddie instructed. "My mom loves them."

     Richie was rifling through Eddie's kitchen cabinet, Bill and Richie had stopped by Eddie's house before their trip to the barrens. They figured they should grab some snacks beforehand.

     Eddie watches, leaning against the kitchen counter.

     "Hey! First, you said the Barrens, now you're saying the sewer." He said. "I mean, what if we get caught?"

     "We won't, Eds," Bill assured. "The sewers are p-p-public works. We're the public aren't we?"

     "Hey, Eddie?" Richie stood at the other end of the kitchen, a cabinet full of pills open. "these your birth control pills?"

     "Yeah, and I'm saving it for your sister. This is private stuff." Eddie retorted.

     The boys closed all the cabinets and exited the kitchen. The TV from the front room was playing softly, Mrs. Kaspbrak was seated in her living room, watching.

     "Hello, and welcome to the Derry Children's Hour."

     "Eddie Bear," the boys stopped, looking at Mrs. Kaspbrak. "where you boys off to in such a rush?"

     "Umm..." Bill spoke up, already feeling the effects of his stutter. "J-j-just my uh, backyard, Mrs. K. I g-got a new..."

     "A new croquet set," Richie jumped in. "Jeez, spit it out, Buh-Buh-Bill"

     "Okay," she eased, her eyes drilling into the boys. "Oh, and sweetie, don't go rolling around on the grass. Especially if it's just been cut. You know how bad you're allergies can get."

     "Yes, mom. Let's go." Eddie mumbled, and he began herding his friends out of the door.

     "Aren't you forgetting something?"

     Eddie froze, and his friends hesitated. Shamefully, he turned and walked into the living room towards his mother who held out her cheek. Eddie planted a quick kiss and returned to the front door. He could see Richie and Bill stifling laughter.

     "Do you want one from me too, Mrs. K?" Richie felt a harsh shove towards the door, and he chuckled. "I was kidding!"

     The boys, now joined by Stan, zipped through the streets of Derry, wind in their hair. As they barrelled through the town, the Derry Public Library cropped up into view.

     Inside, sat at one of the tables and thoughtfully scribbling on a postcard was Ben Hanscom. He had been mulling over the poem, trying to find the perfect words he could use that could possibly capture what he felt in his heart. Finally, when he had finished, he read the final draft in a hushed whisper.

     "You're hair is winter fire, January embers... My heart burns there too."

     His attention was brought to the windows when he heard muffled shouts outside.

     "Slow down!" Said one voice.

     "Hi-ho, Silver! Away!" Cried another.

     He spotted four bikes cruising down the street, just in front of the library. The first voice cried out again.

     "Your old lady bike's too fast for us!"

      The abrupt smack of the book as it hit the table echoed across the quiet library, his attention on the snippy librarian. Her glasses sat perched on the edge of her nose and she was staring judgmentally at Ben.

     "Found it." Her eyes squinted. "Isn't it summer vacation? I would think you'd be ready to take a break from the books."

     Ben who was fiddled nervously with his fingers, shrugged. "I like it here."

     She blinked at his response and looked down at him distastefully. "A boy should be spending his summer outside with friends. Don't you have any friends."

     Ben looked away, before speaking, avoiding all eye contact with the stingy woman.

     "Can I have the book now?"

     She gave the book a quick pat and left promptly. Ben breathed a sigh in relief and grabbed the History of Old Derry, opening it up.

     He was constantly intrigued by his new town, and every time he could dig deeper into its history, he felt a little piece of the puzzle fall into place.

     He flipped through the pages, eyes trained on the different pictures, scanning the captions but nothing, in particular, caught his eye. That is until he reached one photo in particular. It was a rather tall building, flooded with people of all ages, mostly children. What caught his eye was an old circus caravan.

     It featured a picture of a clown. Some of it was cut off, but he could make out some of it. "Penny-" the rest was covered, and below it, he had gotten enough context to know it read "Dancing Clown."

     Below the picture, the caption read "Easter Egg Hunt celebration at the Derry Iron Work, April 3rd, 1908" Unbeknownst to Ben, a woman at the back of the library, turned to watch him. Eyes fixed completely on Ben, an eerie smile on her face.

     Ben continued to flip through the book, fascinated. Another photo, this one of several kids, all holding their baskets of eggs. He turned the page, and featured on the next page was a photocopy of a newspaper, the Derry Herald. It read, "EASTER EXPLOSION KILLS 88 CHILDREN, 102 TOTAL"

     He scanned the page briefly, his eyes lingering on the photo featured in the newspaper. Ben felt a chill run down his spine, still oblivious to the woman staring at him in the library. As he advanced further in the book, it only grew darker. Bodies were strewn all over the grass in the photo, captioned, "Bodies of those killed in Derry Iron Works Explosion, 1908"

     Another page. This photo depicted a small crowd of people gathered around an old tree. "A gruesome discovery in the wake of the Derry Iron Works explosion, 1908". Ben could not see the gruesome discovery he read about, and he was thankful. He turned the page again. Peculiar.

     A slightly zoomed-in version of the previous photo. He turned the page. The same photo, only closer. Another page. Another photo of the branches. Frantically, Ben continued to flip through the pages, heart thumping. Sure enough, like a slow-motion animation, it closed in on the branches of the tree. Closer and closer and closer and-

     A head. A boy's head. An impossibly crystal clear photo of a boy's severed head is caught in the branches. Ben felt his stomach lurch and he slammed the book shut, panting heavily. What the hell had he just seen?

     His eyes trailed from the cover of A History of old Derry to a recent headline of the newspaper. "Body found by canal not Betty Ripsom" What the hell was wrong with this town? Ben stiffed when he heard a soft giggle, the slow tune of an old music box began to play. Slowly he turned.

     Across the library, a bright red balloon was floating across the library, disappearing through a doorway. He rose to his feet and peered out the doorway, anxiety settling in his stomach. Perched on the steps was a smoking easter egg, charred and burned. For an unknown reason, Ben let his legs carry him down the hall, where he found another singed egg. And another. And another.

     He now found himself in the library's basement, where everything was stored in a maze of shelves. He picked up the egg, despite its charred exterior, it wasn't hot. He could have sworn he heard shuffling down the hallway of shelves and he crept forward. Was the librarian down here, he wondered. She couldn't be, the lights were off. Right on cue, the lights flickered on and off, a sickening pale green.

     The lights flickered long enough for Ben to see a figure dart between the shelves. The room went dark once more and Ben beard a clatter from behind him. He turned around, and at the top of the stairs was the figure of a boy, maybe his age. It was hard to tell. Regardless, Ben watched cautiously as the figure took a few stiffened steps down the stairs one see step at a time. He froze, and Ben watched anxiously, his heart pounding. The figure took another step down, revealing to Ben that he had no head.

     Smoke wafted from his neck and while he had no head, Ben knew somehow it was looking right at him. He had been holding several eggs to his chest, which he now dropped. The eggs hit the ground, splattering everywhere. The figure of the headless boy trudged down the stairs and froze briefly. And then it took off after Ben.

     Ben sped down into the small maze of shelves, he could barely hear his own footsteps, let alone the footsteps of the figure over his pounding heart and heavy breathing. He cast a glance over his shoulder to see the figure running stiffly but swiftly after him. He made so many turns he lost count of where he was, much too frightened to paying attention to where he was going. He found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the figure chasing him, too afraid if he didn't look he would sneak up and grab him. He looked forward just in time to turn the corner.

     A taunting gravelly voice grabbed his attention, and he quickly glanced a final glance behind him to see a giant bulbous clown head on top of the boy's once headless figure was right in front of him.

     "Egg boy!" It said.

     He felt himself collide with a figure and he stumbled back frightened. The figure he crashed into let out a startled gasp and dropped several books. It was the librarian.

     She looked Ben up and down sharply. "What on earth are you doing?"

     Ben spared a frightful look down the hallway of shelves, relieved to find nothing there. Still panting, in fear or exhaustion or possibly both, he had no idea. He looked the librarian in the eye once more and fled up the stairs, grateful to be caught where he shouldn't have been.

     After gathering his things, and his composure, Ben exited the library. He trudged across the grass, passing the stone monument, unaware of the spiteful mulleted teenager that had been waiting for him.

     "Where you off to, tits?"

     Ben took one look at Henry Bowers and fled. Unfortunately, he hadn't made it far before one of his goons had been waiting for him and snatched him up.

     "Gotcha."

     The Bowers gang had dragged a fighting Ben Hanscom several blocks to Derry's infamous Kissing Bridge.

     "Wait!"

     "Fucking hold him!"

     "Leave me alone!"

     "Smack him."

     "Don't let tubby get away."

     "Help!"

     Laughter erupted from the vicious group of boys. Patrick Hockstetter had a hold on Ben, one of them had pulled Ben's shirt up over his head, disorienting him. A cackling Victor Criss slapped Ben's stomach teasingly and each of them got a shot at kicking, poking and shoving, in ignoring the boy's cries of protest.

     Ben felt himself get pinned against the side of the bridge. "Just leave me alone."

     "Look at all this blubber!" Exclaimed Belch, who ripped his shirt back down.

     Ben looked around in fear, struggling against his attackers. The rattling of a can came from Patrick, who eagerly shook the can of hairspray as he stood in front of Ben.

     "Let me light his hair, like Michael Jackson," he said eagerly, flicking open his lighter and created a small bellow of flames.

     "Just hold him," Growled Henry, pushing him out of the way and Ben roughly by the collar.

     "Get off me! Get off me!" Ben stopped shouting when he heard the low rumble of a car.

     Everyone else quieted as well, watching a car slowly cruised by, the window rolled down. The gang expected to be stopped, but the car kept going. The couple inside contributed nothing but a passing glance, and Ben cried out for help.

     The only kind of response he received, was the abrupt and unexpected form of a bright red balloon popping up in the window of the back seat.

     Henry landed a right hook in Ben's jaw and another. Ben felt his sense getting knocked loose and he grew dizzy, his ears ringing. Henry grabbed him by the head, shaking it vigorously as he yelled in anger and madness. His hearing came back in time to hear Henry seething threats.

     "Okay, new kid. This is what us locals call the Kissing Bridge. It's famous for two things. Sucking face," he held up his pocket knife and suddenly unsheathed it. "and carving names"

     Nausea washed over Ben and winced, shaking his head desperately.

     "Henry, please," he pleaded, shaking his head no.

     Ben roared in agony, searing pain erupted on his stomach as Henry forcefully carved a large H on his stomach. Patrick cackled madly and Victor said nothing. Belch was the only one who became uneasy.

     "Woah, woah! Henry!"

     "Shut up!" He bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. "I'm gonna carve my whole name onto this cottage cheese!"

     In one swift movement, Ben brought his leg up to Henry, kicking himself off and he tumbled over the side of the bridge. Grunting, he tumbled down the harsh slope, being poked and stabbed by various twigs but none of it came close to the pain of the mark Henry had left.

     He could hear the angry cries of Henry, who was peering over the bridge. "I'm gonna cut your fucking tits off. I swear to God!"

     He launched himself over the bridge and all his friends joined him. Ben jumped to his feet when he heard the rustling of the leaves up the hill he had just fallen. He turned on his heel, and sprinted into the trees, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain in his stomach every time he moved. Ben made several twists and turns through the trees, never allowing himself to stop.

     Meanwhile, Henry and his friends had reached the end of the hill, and Henry began sifting through the dirt and leaves frantically. "My knife. My old man will kill me!"

     Belch and Patrick watched, not knowing what to do. Henry looked at him expectantly.

     "You two get him!" They fled into the woods after Ben and Henry turned to Victor. "Move your fucking ass!"

     Ben could hear the approaching footsteps and voices behind him as he reached a fork in the path. He went down the left which lead him to the edge of the ferns at the edge of a creek. Patrick and Belch reached the same fork and they stopped. Patrick gestured for Belch to take the right while Patrick took the left.

     Ben felt his socks dampen, as ran along the creek leaving the Bowers gang far behind him.

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     "You holding up okay?"

     Beverly had returned to the living room, now fully dressed in a maroon tank top and denim shorts, her usual key around her neck and her long red hair hung at the side of her shoulders in a ponytail. The two girls had scraped together as many ointments and bandages for Y/n's leg.

     Though they hadn't had much luck. They couldn't find a single thread of gauze and only half a foot of ace bandages. So Beverly did her best to clean the wound with a wet paper towel and applied some ointment. She found a spare white cotton cloth in the linen closet and wrapped it firmly around Y/n's leg to stop the bleeding.

     Once Y/n's leg had been taken care of, they got to work cleaning the carpet as best as they could. Beverly took most of the trips back and forth to the kitchen given Y/n was still much too sore. When the carpet had been scrubbed within an inch of its life, the girls finally retreated to the couch and talked into the sun came up. They talked about anything and everything - aside from what Y/n had seen, still much too frightened to speak of it.

     Beverly stood at the edge of Y/n's living room, now fully dressed, looking at Y/n, trying to gauge her mood. She had not moved from her spot on the couch and she looked as if she was lost in thought, her eyes fixed on the barely visible pink stain on the carpet.

     "Y/n?"

     Snapping out of her daze, she looked to Beverly, still in a bit of a daze. "Hm?"

     "Are you alright to get dressed, or," she trailed off, not wanting to offend her friend but still offering her assistance.

     "Oh, yeah, I'm good. Thanks,"

     She pushed herself off the couch and limped lightly into the hall, passing Beverly and retreated into her room to get dressed. She winced at the pain that seared in her leg but she relaxed gradually. She was growing used to it.

     Biting her lip and hissing slightly, she tried her best to step into her pair of overall shorts. She had almost gotten her leg in when she began to tip over. Thankfully she had landed on her bed, she used the advantage to slip easily in her shorts and sighed in relief, the hard part over.

     Satisfied with her handiwork, Y/n grabbed her lowest pair of socks and shoes and joined Beverly back in the living room. Beverly had prepared breakfast for the two of them, a bowl of cereal for her and a [y/f/b] for Y/n.

     Beverly smiled warmly, welcoming her back, but her eyes fell to Y/n's ankle and she winced.

     "We really need to get you some proper bandages," She eased.

     Y/n looked down at her leg to see the once white cloth was stained a deep crimson color and she sighed, looking back at Bev who offered a weak smile.

     A yawn escaped her lips and Y/n felt a twinge of guilt for keeping her friend up all night. Beverly recognized the look on her face and she smiled.

     "Don't worry, Y/n it's fine. Let's just have our breakfast and then we'll get you some proper supplies at the pharmacy. I was planning on making a trip there today anyway. You can come with me,"

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     Stan, Richie, Eddie, and Bill were treading the edge of the water, Bill in the lead towards the sewers. Stan was gesturing all around him, a sure frown on his face.

     "That's poison ivy. And that's poison ivy. And that's poison ivy."

     "Where?" Eddie looked around, watching his step. "Where's the poison ivy?"

     "Nowhere," Richie remarked. "Not every fucking plant is poison ivy, Stanley."

     Bill and Richie stepped into the large cement mouth of the sewer tunnels, Eddie and Stan refusing to cross the threshold. Eddie was shifting on his feet, growing antsy.

     "Okay, I'm starting to get itchy now, and - and I'm pretty sure this is not good for my--"

     "Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?" Richie quipped, cutting Eddie off.

     "Sometimes, yeah."

     "Then you probably have crabs."

     "That's so not funny."

     The flashlights crawled along the walls of the slimy sewer tunnel and Richie turned around to face his two hesitant friends.

     "Aren't you guys coming in?"

     Eddie took one look at the murky water and shook his firmly. "Uh-uh. It's greywater."

     "What the hell's greywater?"

     "It's basically piss and shit. So I'm just telling you, you guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee. So..."

     The stick Richie had been carrying was swirled around the water before he brought it up to his face. He took a big whiff and Eddie used all his strength not to gag.

     "Are you serious? What are you-?"

     "Doesn't smell like caca to me señor!" Richie retorted in an accent.

     "Okay, I can smell that from here."

     Richie smiled a toothy grin. "It's probably just your breath wafting back into your face."

     Eddie scoffed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief and he tried desperately to contain his frustration. "Have you ever heard of a staph infection?"

     Amused as ever, Richie grinned, waving the stick towards his friend. "Oh, I'll show you a staph infection."

     "This is so unsanitary. You're literally-"

     The continued to bicker further and Stan rolled his eyes, already fed up with them.

     "This is literally like swimming inside of a toilet bowl right now,"

     Still grinning, Richie picked something up from the water with his stick and waved it around.

     "Have you ever heard of Listeria? AHH" Eddie screamed in terror and jumped back slightly when Richie launched the sopping wet piece of garbage at Eddie.

     He snickered at the boy's reaction, and Eddie launched into another lecture. Bill, who was the deepest in the tunnels, had found a shoe floating in the water.

     "Guys!"

     The boys stopped bickering and looked to their friend. He was holding the shoe illuminating the dripping shoe with his flashlight.

      Stan grew grave, and his voice broke as he spoke. "Shit. Don't tell me that's..."

     "No. G-Georgie wore galoshes."

      Richie had joined Bill's side and he peered inside the shoe.

     "Who's sneaker is it?" Eddie asked.

     Richie turned, and looked back at his friend, trying to hide his shock. "It's Betty Ripsom's,"

     An uneasy and solemn silence fell over them. All sense of mischief and jokes forgotten. Eddie let out a shaky breath.

     "Oh, shit. Oh, God. Oh, fuck!" Stan watched quietly, silently shutting down and Eddie was still trying to cope with the discovery. "I don't like this."

     Richie, who always reverted to humor as his coping mechanism, did just that.

     "How do you think Betty feels?" He stood on one foot and hopped a couple of times. "Running around these tunnels with only one frickin' shoe?"

     Richie stopped when he saw the serious and frightened faces on his friends and he knew he went too far. At that moment, Stan spoke up, his voice wavering.

     "What if she's still here?"

     No one answered, but Bill and Richie retreated farther in the tunnels.

     "Eddie, come on!" Richie urged.

     "My mom will have an aneurysm, okay, if she finds out that we're playing down here. I'm serious."

     Bill hadn't acknowledged what anyone had said, this attention still focused on the murky waters below.

     "Bill?"

     He turned around a sad look in his eyes.

     "If... If I was Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me." They all shifted uncomfortably. "G-Georgie too."

     Eddie, who couldn't contain his discomfort, shakily spoke up.

     "What if I don't want to find them?"

     Everyone looked to Eddie, shocked. Not surprised that he felt that way, but that he brought it up. Like some unspoken thought, they all had in the back of their minds.

     "I mean, no offense, Bill, but I don't want to end up like..." The name Georgie almost rolled off his tongue, and he shook his head feeling guilty. "I don't want to go missing either."

     "He has a point," Stan added.

     "Y-y-you too?"

     "It's summer. We're supposed to be having fun. This isn't fun. This is scary and disgusting."

     The four of them gasped when a figure collapsed outside in the water. Stan and Eddie whirled around to see a boy gasping for breath on his hands and knees. He attempted to get back up but he fell once more. It looked as if this was the first time in a long while he had stopped to catch his breath. It was Ben Hanscom, but they knew him as the new kid.

     Richie peered out of the tunnel.

     "Holy shit! What happened to you?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

     "I think it's great we're helping the new kid but we also need to think of our own safety."

     The five boys emerged from the forest, there bikes bouncing slowly on the grassy terrain before descending onto the pavement. Ben had been offered the backseat of Bill's bike, and the rest trailed behind as they made their way to the pharmacy downtown. As usual, Eddie was informing the group of the possible dangers of their current situation.

     "I mean, he's bleeding all over and you guys know that there's an AIDS epidemic happening right now as we speak, right? And my mom's friend in New York City got it by touching a dirty pole on the subway. And a drop of AIDS blood got into his system through a hangnail. A hangnail!"

     The gang was now halfway to the pharmacy and despite his rapid speech patterns, his rant had lasted the majority of the trip.

     By the time they reached the alley outside the pharmacy, Eddie was wrapping up.

     "...and you can amputate legs and arms. But how do you amputate a waist? How do you amputate a waist? You guys do know that alleys are known for dirty needles that have AIDS, right? You guys do know that?"

     Like their knack for tuning out Richie's trash mouth, the rest of them had a knack for tuning out Eddie's medical rants.

     They parked their bikes in the alley, and Ben took a seat on some wooden crates, leaning against the brick wall.

     "Ah, we're screwed," Mumbled Stan.

     Bill and the others began retreating down the alleyway.

     "Richie, stay wait here. Come on,"

     Richie stood awkwardly with Ben, and he chuckled weakly.

     "Glad I got to meet you before you died."

     Ben looked up at Richie, unimpressed with his joke and Richie shifted uneasily. And the unlikely duo waited in silence. Inside the pharmacy, Bill and Stan fell back, letting Eddie take the wheel. He grabbed nearly everything he could reach and in a few seconds, had a small pile packed against his chest.

     Meanwhile, Stan and Bill had scoured their pockets for money, but all the two had managed to scrounge together was a measly three dollars.

     "Can we afford all that?" Bill asked, referring to the small mountain of medical supplies Eddie was holding.

     Stan held up the three dollar bills in his hands and shrugged. "It's all we got."

     "You kidding me?" Eddie sighed, disappointed.

     "Wait, you have an account here, don't you?" Bill asked hopefully.

     Eddie gave his friend an incredulous look.

     "If my mom finds out I bought all this stuff, I'm spending the whole rest of the weekend in the hospital getting x-rayed."

     Two isles over Beverly stood facing the wall of feminine hygiene products. Y/n appeared from around the corner holding a small plastic bag of gauze and bandages that she had just paid for. She joined her friend's side, noticing the indecisiveness in Bev and she quickly scanned the shelves. She finally found the familiar brand and grabbed a box off the shelf and handed it to Beverly. She took it and looked to Y/n.

     "If you're looking for comfort, this one's your best best bet." She whispered, smiling weakly.

     Bev breathed a sigh of relief and sent her a grateful glance. Together, the two girls began treading towards the end of the aisle and around the corner. They both froze when they heard a familiar voice.

     "See you later, Dad."

     They caught a glimpse of Gretta at the opposite end, closing up her bag and the two girls quickly shuffled to the safety of the next aisle before Gretta could spot them. Except for Y/n, who moved in more of a quick hobble.

     They rounded the corner and found themselves face to face with three familiar faces. Beverly instinctively shoved the box of tampons behind her back before they could notice it. And Y/n had realized why the boys were so familiar.

     One of them, she realized, was completely fixated on her. The smaller boy who held several first aid supplies held to his chest and when he saw her, a roll of medical tape slipped from his hand. But his wide eyes never left her.

     Everyone stood there awkwardly for a moment before Eddie broke the silence. He smiled nervously at her and shifted a bit on his feet.

     "Hey, uh, hi! I remember you, how's the le-gaaahh..." his words spilled into a messy gasp as his eyes landed on her ankle.

     By now, the makeshift white bandage was stained completely red, and it looked as if no more blood could possibly be soaked up.

     Eddie tried desperately not to gag, though it was very difficult for him.

     Bill looked between both girls before his eyes fell on Y/n's leg, but he tried not to stare.

     "Are y-you guys, okay?"

     Beverly quickly responded, looking between Y/n and the boys, eager to divert attention away from the box she held behind her.

     "We just came to get supplies for her leg, that's it. What's wrong with you?"

     "None of your business," Stan snapped, sensing her abrasiveness.

     "There's a kid outside. Looked like someone killed him."

     During the whole conversation, Eddie had looked at Beverly maybe once. His attention focused on Y/n, and all his energy went towards not looking at her ankle.

     "W-we need s-s-some supplies, but we don't have enough money," Bill said sadly.

     Beverly frowned the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn't want to, but she knew she had to. It was the only way she could think of distracting him and helping the boys. She looked anxiously at Mr. Keene and sighed. She gave one look at Y/n and lowered her voice.

     "Go with them, or wait outside at least. I'll be right out,"

     Y/n recognized the look in her best friend and she quickly shook her head.

     "Beverly, you don't have to do this," she whispered.

     "Just go, I'll be fine."

     Beverly took off past the boys and headed to the counter.

     "Bev," she hissed, but she ignored her.

     Instinctively, she tried to follow her friend but she hissed in pain when she put pressure on her leg.

     The boys immediately noticed her pain and Bill took a few steps forward, ready to catch her if she fell.

     She caught herself before that could happen and Eddie shifted on his feet nervously.

     "Do you need help with your ankle? I know first aid and I could help you after I helped the new kid?"

     "Ew," Y/n groaned, cringing.

     Eddie tried to mask his hurt unsuccessfully, he looked down to his feet and his cheeks turned pink.

     "A simple no would have sufficed, Jesus," he mumbled.

     "What? Oh," she shook her head, "no, It's Mr. Keene, "

     Y/n frowned, gesturing to Beverly at the counter.

     Mr. Keene was looking Bev up and down, hungrily. The way he was smiling at her made her nauseous.

     "Oh..." Eddie turned around to see what she was talking about, and Stan and Bill did too. "Oh."

     They watched Bev take his glasses off of her face, folding them up. While handing them back she "accidentally" knocked over the small shelf of cigarettes. Mr. Keene smiled weakly and bent over to pick them up.

     "Come on, let's go," Y/n whispered quickly.

     She was backing up, gesturing for the boys to follow her. But they were still staring at Beverly in shock.

     "Now! Come on!" She hissed under her breath.

     Beverly grabbed a pack of cigarettes that had landed on the counter, and Y/n realized the boys were never gonna figure it out in time.

     "Oh for fuck's sake," rolling her eyes, she grabbed two of their wrists, her grocery bag hooked on one finger and began pulling them towards the door.

     Beverly cast a glance over her shoulder, to see Y/n dragging the boys away.

     The boys stumbled out of the aisle, tripping over themselves in the process. Y/n was dragging Eddie and Bill by their wrists and Stan had caught on. Eddie was taken aback, but he was mostly distracted by the fact that he was dropping his supplies left and right.

     "Jesus, you'd think you never saw a distraction before in your lives," Y/n sighed, releasing the boys.

     Eddie scoffed, making a face implying he was going to say something but instead, he awkwardly looked away, words failing him.

     "Alright, well...?" she looked between the three boys expectantly, they were all staring at her, waiting to see what she had to say.

     She raised her eyebrows, not believing they had already forgotten about the injured kid.

     "The kid? Bleeding out somewhere? We gonna help him or what?"

     Shock washed over them and Eddie and Stan took off around the corner, and Y/n followed. Bill walked after them to the alley, seeming to linger by the entrance to the store to wait for Bev.

     Y/n hobbled down the alley and by the time she got there Eddie was already knelt down in front of Ben. He was riling through his supplies, and Ben lifted his shirt.

     Y/n noticed Richie Tozier had been waiting with the injured boy. Poor kid, she thought. When Richie saw her, he adjusted his glasses and smiled smugly.

     "Hey, tootes!"

     Y/n plastered on an obviously fake smile and tilted her head. "Hey, dick."

     Letting the name roll off his back he smiled, Richie clicked his tongue and winked. "That's my name, don't wear it out."

     Despite her annoyance, a small chuckle escaped her mouth and she rolled her eyes. She was now looking at the kid who sat on some crates, the small boy tending to his wound. She winced, and took a seat next to him, relieved to get off her bad ankle.

     "So," she said simply, drawing the boy's attention. "Whatcha in for?"

     He tilted his head, clearly confused. She extended her bad leg and pointed to it.

     "Bad leg,"

     The boy's eyes widened slightly and he looked back to her. "Some gnarly cuts. What about you?"

     "Oh, uh, well same I guess." He said, and she nodded.

     "Just suck the wound." The two looked up to see Richie who addressed the smaller boy.

     He immediately grew impatient, trying desperately not to get distracted.

     "I really need to focus right now."

     "You need to focus?"

     "Yeah, can you go get me something?"

     "Jesus! What do you need?"

     "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

     Y/n leaned forward, interested and slightly amused. "You have a second fanny pack?"

     The other boy, who was standing near her nodded. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

     "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

     Bill, who had been lingering at the end of the alley, heard the jingle of the store bell and he stepped back out on the sidewalk. Beverly was leaving the store and she walked towards him, knowing her friend must be nearby. Bill could have sworn timed slowed when she smiled. Nervously, Bill reached into his pocket, pulling out a couple of dollars and offered it to her.

     "T-t-thanks."

     She held up a pack of smokes and winked. "Even stephen."

     Her attention was drawn to the voices coming from the alley.

     "Oh, God, he's bleeding! Oh, my God!" It was Stanley.

     She saw Y/n and the boys crowded around a familiar face, she smiled fondly and headed their way. "Ben from soch?"

     "You have to suck the wound before you apply the Band-Aids. This is 101!"

     "You don't know what you're talking about."

     Ben looked up from the bickering duo and at the figure walking down the alley. His pulse quickened ever so slightly at the beautiful sight of Beverly Marsh.

     "Are you okay?" She asked worriedly as she approached them. "That looks like it hurts."

     Ben shifted nervously and smiled. "Oh. No, I'm good. I just fell."

     Richie scoffed. "Yeah, right into Henry Bowers."

     Bill panicked, and shushed the boy, much to Beverly's confusion. Y/n grew curious too.

     "Why? It's the truth." Richie defended.

     Beverly took a step forward, smiling coyly at Ben. "You sure they got the... right stuff to fix you up?"

     She winked and Ben felt his heart might explode. He smiled bashfully and looked down at the ground.

     At that moment, the smaller boy had finished tending to him and had moved over to face Y/n's leg. She hadn't been paying attention and was surprised when she felt a tug on the cloth and she hissed in pain, drawing everyone's attention.

     Eddie hesitated and looked up at her apologetically. "Oh, sorry. This is okay, right? That I do this? It's just that right now you're exposing yourself to hundreds and thousands of bacteria and infection and this really needs to be checked out, so unless you're on your way to the hospital anytime time soon, I really think I-"

     Y/n chuckled and nodded her head, cutting him off.

     "Yes! Yes, it's okay. I'd really appreciate it," she smiled warmly, growing fond of this kid already. "I'm Y/n, by the way. Y/n L/n."

     He nodded his head and for a moment he forgot how to speak. "Uh, Y/- Eddie. Eddie. I'm, Eddie. Kaspbrak."

     Amused, she watched Eddie get to work. She heard him mutter something about how he should have grabbed latex gloves, and he gagged when he pulled the cloth off her leg. Everyone's attention was pulled back to her and Eddie when he held the blood-soaked cloth far away from himself. Tossing it a few feet away from himself, they heard it land on the pavement with a sopping wet slap.

     Everyone, save for Beverly and Y/n, were shocked to see her actual wound. And poor Eddie looked as if he would faint.

     "Oh, my God! Oh, my-"

     "Holy, fuck!"

     "S-s-shit,"

     "That's why we came here. All we could find was that cloth."

     "Oh my God, where's the gauze?" He looked to Richie in a panic. "Where's the fucking gauze?"

     "Here take mine," Y/n shoved her grocery bag at him and he took it gladly.

     He unwrapped the gauze and applied several strips to her leg in order to cover each cut. She leaned down, placing her hand on some of them to keep them in place for him while he unwrapped the bandages.

     "W-what happened anyway?" Bill looked between Y/n and Beverly.

     Bev shrugged, and Y/n grew quiet, her eyes shifting around. "cat,"

     Beverly frowned, clearly not buying it, knowing there wasn't any cat around when I happened. Y/n met her eye, giving her. a look that screamed "Just please go with it," And Bev let it go, for now.

     "What kind of cat could've done that?" Asked the boy with curly hair.

     Before Y/n could make up a lie, Richie jumped in, scoffing. "The bullshit kind, that's what."

     Y/n gave him a weak glare, letting her eyes fix on her leg as it was being wrapped up.

     "Thank you, Eddie."

     "Sure thing." He was just finishing up applying the special ace bandage tape from her bag. "You're all set."

     She gave him a warm smile and stood, wincing less. She smiled at the feeling. "It feels better already. Thanks again."

     He nodded and stood to his feet.

     "Well, I guess we better get going." Y/n said looking at Bev, who nodded.

     "Uh, t-thanks again, Beverly," Bill said, referring to her distraction.

     She smiled. "Sure. Maybe we'll see you around."

     "Y-yeah, we were thinking about on-going to the q-q-quarry tomorrow," he looked to Eddie briefly with a smirk, before returning his gaze to the two girls. "if you guys wanna come."

     "Good to know. Thanks." She replied.

     Y/n joined Beverly by her side, her bag of supplies she had retrieved in hand, and smiled. "Yeah, maybe we'll see you guys there."

     Her eyes landed on Eddie and he stood to his feet, much too fast. A pink hue dusting his cheeks. Y/n shared a nod with Beverly and the two were off, both of them casting a glance and wave at the group of boys before disappearing around the corner.

     Stanley turned quickly on Richie. "Nice going bringing up Bowers in front of Beverly."

     "Yeah, dude, you heard what she did."

     Ben, who had remained silent on the cartons, spoke up curiously. "What'd she do?"

     Richie smirked. "More like 'Who'd she do?' From what I hear, the list is longer than my wang."

     "That's not saying much." Stan retorted, rolling his eyes.

     Bill jumped in, his stutter got stronger. "T-t-they're j-just rumors."

     "Anyway," Richie continued, addressing Ben. "Bill had her back in third grade. They kissed in the school play. The reviews said you can't fake that sort of passion."

     Ben's heart sank, not in the least bit intrigued. And his sudden somber went completely unnoticed by the bickering boys. And somehow, all of them failed to notice the new figure painted behind the tire in the mural of the Bradley gang behind them. It was the pale white face of a clown, with a big crooked smile, and large tufts of orange hair and beady yellow eyes, right where Y/n's head had been. It had been watching all of them.