chapter eleven
relinquishment of logic

☼ ☽

Fear is the relinquishment of logic. It's a primal instinct. As humans, we assess every situation we are thrown into whether we're conscious of that fact or not, and it's our gut instinct that determines how we react. With fear, our bodies go into flight or fight mode. Either we surrender to it or fight it but there is no in between; there's no halfway mark when it's life or death.

Some argue that fear is a psychological construct rather than discoverable through scientific investigation. Others argue that it cannot be applied to animals because there is no way of knowing whether they feel afraid. But Jill Samson thought that was bullshit.

Animals aren't born vengeful, humans sculpt them that way. When an animal is born, the world is new, but how they are raised impact the way their brains develop. If a dog chews a shoe and their owner kicks them as punishment, the dog will learn that mistakes mean pain. They could either yield to it or fight it. In some cases, an abused dog will turn to its primal instincts for protection. It is the fear instilled in them from outside forces that sharpen their canines and make them crave the stench of blood on their breath.

It's the same for humans, Jill always thought. Fear is the relinquishment of logic. When it is life or death or anything in between, logic goes out the door and all you can focus on is your heart racing and that feeling in your gut that tells you to fight or get the hell out of there. It is then you're left to rely on your instincts, and for some that gut feeling means to succumb to your fears and bare your teeth.

Jill had never been one to run. Her gut always told her to fight until her knuckles were stained with blood and her skin was covered in purple bruises. Some might have called that bravery, but Jill had never been brave. Bravery was fighting despite the fear, Jill had always fought because of the fear. She fought the things that terrified her because if she didn't they'd still be there haunting her and she already had too many ghosts to endure more.

But sometimes Jill couldn't fight off her fear. Sometimes the things she feared had a way of crawling under her epidermis as a reminder her bravery was a facade. And that night especially, she couldn't help but think of herself as a coward playing knight. Because that night she had kissed her best friend and pretended it didn't mean anything. She ran from the truth because she feared the aftermath of her confession. That very thought kept her from fluttering her eyes closed and wallowing in her own thoughts, worsening as the hours passed until dawn brought its morning sun, peeking through the panes of her window.

She laid there in the silence as the sun warmed her skin, but the rays didn't bring her peace, instead, she laid there afraid if she moved an inch she'd cry until her throat felt raw. She was used to that feeling; it had almost gone unnoticed, but something about this ache in her chest resonated with her. She had kissed her best friend and ruined the only good thing in her life. Because here was the thing: she could pretend it was a silly drunken kiss, but they'd both know deep down that it had meant something and their friendship would never be the same. Jill wondered how long it would take Beverly to leave her just like everyone else. It was only a matter of time. When exactly it would be would haunt Jill Samson until time took her to the weeds.

The ring of her rotary landline sounded throughout the room, snapping Jill out of her thoughts. She sprung upward, using the palms of her hands as support. Her heart raced and she placed a hand over her chest as if to relieve herself of the pounding. Her head was pounding from the liquid last night. She wanted to tear her brain out of her skull, but instead she opted for some ibuprofen that she had stored in her nightstand. She swallowed the pills and fluttered her eyes closed. A tear trickled down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away, bringing her hand out to observe the salty residue on her fingertips. Her jaw locked. Stop crying, Jill. You like girls, so what? Beverly can't know you like her.

If Beverly knew how Jill felt, she'd surely stop being her friend and leave her to deal with herself. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. Jill knew she deserved to be alone, but she couldn't bear the thought of the ceaseless loneliness. She needed Beverly to be her best friend more than she needed to feel her lips against hers.

It was the fear of losing her completely that solidified this notion in Jill's brain as she glanced at the redhead who was still sound asleep, slightly snoring into the pillow. And for a second as Jill stared at the sleeping girl, her heart ached. It was a different kind of ache. The kind that came with loving someone too much. Calling it a simple crush would be stupid. She did not giggle like a maniac when she saw her or blush when she thought of her nor did she scribble her name in her notebooks during class. She lived with her face etched into her heart and it stayed there no matter how many times she had tried to carve it out. It was that type of ache; the kind Jill knew would never cease. She would have died for her. She knew that much.

The landline rang again. Jill rolled her eyes, but nevertheless shoved the covers off her body and stomped toward the phone. She picked up the yellow telephone and pressed it against her ear. "What?" she snapped, her voice groggy and sharp.

It was silent for a moment and Jill thought about hanging up, but then she heard someone sigh. "It—It's Bill." His soft voice came through the phone, and anger erupted inside of Jill. Of course it was him. He was always there to remind her he was so much better than her like some sort of Harbinger of Hell.

Jill rolled her eyes. "Go away," she spat, tucking her tangled hair behind her ear. "I'm sleeping."

She began to hang up the phone but Bill's frantic voice halted her actions. "No, wuh—wuh—wait, don't hang—hang up," he pleaded. Jill could imagine exactly what he looked like at the moment—his green eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He always looked like that. The look always made Jill want to flip him off, but maybe now that they had spent the whole summer together, she'd probably just opt for rolling her eyes. "I tried cuh—calling Beverly but no—no one answered so I fig—fig—figured she'd be with you."

As the words escaped his lips, something detonated inside of Jill. It dawned on her that Beverly would never go for her and that Bill would probably whisk her away in his magnificent waves. As the years passed by, the two would become closer and end up dating. They'd become each other's high school sweethearts and get married before they reached the ripe age of twenty-five. Jill would attend their wedding as the maid of honor and have to watch the only girl she had ever loved marry someone who wasn't her. She'd, of course, give a speech during the ceremony and it'd be filled with their childhood adventures and she'd have to fight the urge to say she should have been the one to take her hand in marriage, not Bill. But she wouldn't because Beverly would mean more to her than a tragic love story. Instead, she'd watch the two of them get in their car with the words 'Just Married' painted on it, and she'd have to act happy for them as they drove off to start their new lives together.

Fuck. She didn't want that future, but there was no way she could avoid it. She couldn't escape the inevitable, she would just have to endure it, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be angry about it in the meantime. Because honestly, fuck this.

Jill shook with anger. "What?" she spat, gritting her teeth together. "Do you want me to be your messenger or something?" An image of Beverly saying 'I do' and kissing Bill Denbrough popped into her head. That only made the anger spread. "Get a life, Denbrough."

"Wait! I figured some—something out," he blurted out hastily before the brunette girl could hang up on him. "It's to duh—do with the cluh—clown."

That made the anger cease. Instead, fear coursed through her veins. "What?" she sputtered. Her hands began to sweat, loosening her grip on the phone handle. "What happ—"

Bill cut her off. "Juh—just come over to muh—muh—my place and I'll explain eh—everything," he ordered, his voice steady and slow. A few other voices erupted from the other end of the phone, but Jill couldn't make out who was with Bill before the line went dead, static replacing the voices.

Jill stood there for a few seconds, the static ringing through her ears as fear bubbled in her chest. Fear, it was a tricky thing. It forced her to make quick decisions but the only thing her gut told her to do was run. She wanted to kick, punch, and do whatever it took to get rid of the threat. That was the thing with Samsons—they ran away from danger and when they couldn't they turned to fighting. But it wasn't notable fighting; it wasn't the type of fighting that made her a hero. Bill was like that. He fought out of bravery, but Jill didn't know how to be brave. She knew how to run and she knew how to fight her fears, not how to face them. She didn't know if she could face that clown again . . . or whatever it was that was haunting her. She didn't know if the next time It tried to kill her if she'd face her fears and fight back or give in and let the fear consume her.

"Who was that?" Beverly asked, suddenly, snapping Jill out of her trance.

Jill whipped around, her eyes wide and breathing restricted. Some part of her expected to see the clown from the picture in Ben's room towering over her, but it was only Beverly—the real Beverly. Jill's heart stabilized and she breathed out a sigh of relief as she put the phone down and walked over to the twin size bed. She flopped down beside Beverly and stared up at her freckled face. "Bill . . . " she mumbled. "He figured something out."

Beverly hummed in response. "About the . . . missing kids?"

Jill wet her top lip and sighed before she nodded.

Beverly dragged a hand down her face. "We have to go," she mumbled into her hands.

Jill tore her eyes from her friend's face and stared at the popcorn ceiling. "Yeah, we have to go," she agreed, but for some reason, she felt like she had made the wrong decision. Because for a moment, Jill thought maybe she should have ran.

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          The two girls arrived at their destination about twenty minutes later. After they threw on some clothes and took two cupcakes to eat, they biked their way to the house. They figured eating a healthy breakfast would have done them some good, but they were in a time crunch and the only thing they could find were cupcakes, so whatever. So yeah, their stomachs might have been grumbling for some nutrition, but at least they had arrived at Bill's without being too late.

Jill hopped off her bike, walking it to a stop as she halted at the end of the Denbroughs' driveway and stared at the house before her. It stood two stories tall with a nice front porch and everything. The lawn was freshly clipped and adorned with flower beds that added to the overall image of the house. It practically screamed perfection and there was scrawny Jill standing in front of it, sticking out like a sore thumb in her baggy overalls and flannel with holes torn into the fabric. She felt like a stain on a freshly cleaned carpet.

The Samson girl tore her eyes from the house and turned her attention to the boys rummaging through the garage. It took everything in her not to flip off the house and stomp on the flower beds. Her anger toward the house didn't come from her attitude toward Bill Denbrough or the Denbrough family, but rather that they had a house with lovely adornments while Jill was stuck with her dingy apartment. Not even a speck of dust could be spotted on the Denbroughs' residence, and Jill envied them. Yet, she managed to keep her head screwed on correctly and drop her bike next to the pile of bikes before she entered into the garage with Beverly trailing stiffly behind her.

Jill let her eyes roam as she took in her surroundings. Bill was setting up a projector with a few chairs surrounding him. There were boxes crowding the area as well, but they seemed to have been forgotten in the darkness of the garage. Maybe old toys from Bill's childhood resided in them, or maybe the toys belonged to Georgie. The very thought shot shivers down her spine.

She shook her head of the thoughts and turned her attention back to Bill who was still setting up his projector. "Knock. Knock," she said, her voice echoing throughout the room. "What's the matter, Denbrough?"

Bill whipped around, his green eyes as wide as saucers as he took in the two girls' appearances. "I—um—I fuh—found a map and . . . " he trailed off and shook his head. "Nevermind, juh—just help me seh—seh—set up and I'll explain it. Yuh—yuh—you can cover the win—windows." He tapped his fingers on the projector while briefly making eye contact with Beverly before he turned back to fidgeting with his setup.

Jill scoffed. "Someone's in a mood."

Beverly lightly whacked her arm and shot her a look. "Jill."

Jill rubbed her arm and shrugged. "I'm just saying," she muttered. She turned to grab one of the blankets draped over a chair, but Richie appeared in front of her, blocking her actions. She only gave him an unimpressed look and groaned.

Richie smirked and nodded at her. "Hey, hot stuff, how's it going?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he offered her a wink. Jill responded by flashing him her middle finger. "Come on. What's going on, Jilly? By the looks of it, you haven't had much sleep. Tell me about that. How does it make you feel?"

Jill's expression soured as she scrunched her nose in irritation. "I'm doing the same as yesterday, Richard," she spat as she crossed her arms over her chest. "And it will stay the same until you realize I do not like you."

"Reject me all you want, Samson, but you know you can't resist all of this," Richie said, gesturing to his lanky body.

Jill raised a brow. "All of what?"

Eddie abandoned his spot by a window that he was trying and failing to cover and walked right up behind Richie. "Just shut up, Richie," he muttered, nudging the boy with his elbow to gain his attention. "Here." He handed Richie a corner of the blanket he was holding. "Help me hang it over that window." He nodded in the direction of the window.

Richie slumped his shoulder and frowned. "Really?" Eddie pursed his lips and nodded.

Jill smirked. "At least one of you is being useful," she mused, raising a brow and crossing her arms over her chest.

Richie turned back to her. "Hey, now, I can be useful," he said with a wink.

Jill screwed her face up and frowned. Ew. Still, she managed to roll her eyes and purse her lips as she pushed past Richie and reached for a blanket draped over one of the chairs, then walked over to an exposed window. Beverly grabbed some tape and a chair so she could stand on it to tape the blanket to the window. As the redhead climbed onto the chair, Jill stood on the opposite end and stretched the blanket over the frame of the window. They did that to a few other open spaces where light shone through until the whole room was encased in darkness with the projector as their only light.

Beverly hopped down from the chair and picked it up as she walked back to the projector to put the stool in its original spot. She sat down on the stool, one leg dangling and the other resting on one of the metal bars. Jill followed her, tying back her hair in a low ponytail as she walked to where Beverly sat upon the stool. The rest of the Losers piled in, each of them sitting down on either boxes or empty chairs while Mike and Jill stood off to the sides and Bill stood in front of the projector. Bill was still trying to line the projection up with the map taped to the wall as the other preteens conversed amongst themselves.

Jill didn't really want to talk to anyone. She was too in her head to even think of forming words, because here she was in a garage with seven other preteens and all she wanted to do was leave. She knew she had been saying that the entire summer, but she wasn't thinking that now for the same reasons. Now, she kind of enjoyed some of the Losers' company, but she still wanted to leave because she was in a garage attached to a very nice house and she felt like she didn't belong. She had never even been in the inside of a garage in her entire life and here she was trying to keep her cool and pretend that she was perfectly okay with being different from the other kids that lived in houses like this. It just wasn't fair.

"Hey," Beverly suddenly mumbled, ripping Jill from her thoughts. Jill turned to her and anticipated her next words. "So I was wondering if we could talk about last night."

Jill's heart dropped. Fuck. She couldn't talk about this right now. If she did she'd surely confess to being head over heels for the redhead, and she just couldn't do that. She couldn't lose Beverly. "Uh, no, that's fine." She offered a half-smile and cleared her throat. "We're cool. Cool as beans." She let out an awkward laugh and shot finger guns at the girl. "Cool beans."

Cool beans? Really, Jill? God, you are such a loser! She wanted to disappear. God, she wanted to not even exist if she was going to keep embarrassing herself like that.

"Oh, okay, good." Beverly tucked an orange curl behind her ear. "Um, also," she leaned in closer and whispered so only Jill could hear, "how do I get Bill to tell me he wrote the poem without asking him?" Her hands dropped from her hair and she clasped them together in her lap.

Fuck. Not this again. Jill did not want to talk about Bill fucking Stenchbrough when he was right fucking there. "Oh, uh," she stammered, racking her brain for a logical response, "I don't know. Maybe—"

Another voice cut her off. "Look," Bill spoke suddenly, bringing all the preteens' attention to him as they gathered around the boy and stared at the projection before them. "Storm drain." He pointed to a big black 'X' on a map of Derry that he had probably drawn on when he was searching for the connection behind his brother's disappearance and the weird occurrences all over town. "That's where G—Georgie disappeared. There's the Ironworks and the Black Spot. Everywhere It happens. It's—it's all connected by the sew—sewers and they all meet up at the Well—Well—Wuh—Wuh—"

"The Well-House," Ben finished his thoughts for him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, keeping his eyes glued to the projection.

"You mean the house on Neibolt Street?" Stan asked from beside Richie. He scratched the back of his neck and swallowed loudly. He didn't want to believe this. Jill knew that. She and Stan had had that conversation many times that summer and they both agreed the whole thing felt like some sick joke. So when she glanced over and saw his expression, fear sparked in her chest. She wanted to run. She wanted to smash the projector to pieces, annihilate the clown, do whatever it took just to get rid of the damned hauntings or whatever they were.

Richie brought her back to reality with the sound of his voice breaking the silence. "You mean the creepy-ass house where all the junkies and hobos like to sleep?" he asked, adjusting his glasses. Bill wet his lips then nodded.

A gasp escaped Eddie's lips as he doubled over, reaching for his inhaler. His breaths came out more ragged before he pressed the inhaler to his lips and inhaled. The puff of air calmed Eddie's breathing, but he refused to move, instead, he pressed his hands to his mouth and shut his eyes. He didn't want to look, and Jill didn't blame him. Maybe she would have even asked if he was all right, but Richie beat her to it. Richie clasped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and squeezed. It was a silent gesture but it did the trick. Eddie patted the hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes as the rest of the group turned their attention back to the projection.

Beverly puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. "I hate that place. I always feel like it's watching me," she mumbled as she rubbed her hands on her thighs.

Jill racked her brain for an image of the house, trying to think of a time she had ever walked on Neibolt Street. Then it dawned on her. She had to pass the house in order to reach the Ogdens' premises. She remembered feeling like someone was watching her in one of the windows as she peddled by and she always wondered if someone was standing in the house with their eyes trained on her but she never once looked back.

Eddie breathed unsteadily. "That's where I saw It," he frantically whispered, quickly looking back at Richie who stared back at him. Jill felt goosebumps prickle her skin as she wet her lips and shuffled closer to Beverly.

No one said a word in response. No one could. Until Bill swallowed his fear and inhaled sharply. "Tha—tha—tha—that's where It lives," he mumbled. Jill glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and watched as the boy unfolded in front of her. His eyes seemed to gloss over with tears, but he quickly wiped them away before anyone saw. Only someone did see. Jill saw. But instead of pointing it out and laughing in his face, she kept her mouth sewn shut. And for a sliver of a second, guilt coursed through her body, because Jill knew what it felt to lose someone you loved and she wouldn't wish it upon her worst enemy.

Eddie inhaled another puff from his inhaler, ripping Jill's attention from the Denbrough boy. She briefly saw Eddie bury his head in his hands before she focused her eyes on the projection again.

"I can't imagine anything ever wanting to live there," Stanley mumbled, his voice unsteady and weak. Jill wanted to open her mouth and agree, but she was frozen. Her limbs were numb. She couldn't even tear her eyes from the projection.

Eddie suddenly stood up, breathing heavily as he took another puff of his inhaler. "Can we stop talking about this? I—I can barely breathe. It's summer. We're kids!" He threw his hands up and hastily glanced around the room, pleading with his eyes for someone to agree with him. He wanted this to be over and Jill couldn't blame him. She, too, just wanted to go home. "I can barely breathe without having a fucking asthma attack a—and fuck doing this!" He whipped around and with a groan, he tore down the map from the wall.

Bill's bottom lip trembled out of anger. "What the hell? Put the map back!" he yelled as he shoved a finger at the Kaspbrak boy. Eddie shook his head, shifting from side to side.

Richie rose to his feet and clapped his hands together to attract all attention to himself. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't we get ice cream?" he offered with a wide smile stretched across his face.

Bill clenched his fists. "Nobody wah—wants your fuck—fucking ice cream, Rich—Richie," he spat angrily, stepping forward to snatch the map which had floated to the floor. "We ha—have to fuh—fuh—find Georgie." He shoved Eddie out of the way and began to fasten the map to the wall.

Beverly spoke up for the group. "Bill, what if—"

"No!" Bill yelled, slamming his hands against the wall. Silence engulfed the room, the only sound being Bill's ragged breathing. He closed his eyes and sighed. "We ha—have to—" The picture flipped on the projector, cutting off Bill's words. All noise died. The picture flipped again, revealing an image of Georgie Denbrough and his father in baseball uniforms. Silence engulfed the room once more, instilling unease in all the kids. The picture flipped again and Jill's heart accelerated.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jill asked, fear bubbling in her throat. She wanted to run or smash the projector. It didn't matter, she just wanted the feeling to cease.

As the pictures of the Denbrough family flipped by, Bill and Eddie backed away from the wall slowly. Bill whipped around and fidgeted with the machine, but the images kept switching and fear strangled each of the preteens. Bill inhaled sharply then gestured for Mike to come take a look at the projector, but no matter what he did, the pictures kept switching. Until it flipped once more and focused on a picture of the Denbrough family dressed in formal wear standing in front of what appeared to be some building. It flipped again, but the image stayed on the same picture, it had only zoomed in on one specific Denbrough—Georgie.

"Georgie?" Bill almost inaudibly whispered.

Goosebumps prickled the back of Jill's neck, and for the first time in her life, she felt cold. "What the fuck is this shit, Bill?" she spat, reaching for Beverly. She locked their arms together and pulled her body close as the pictures flipped multiple times a second. Each flip, it zoomed in closer on the little boy's smiling face. Jill could only watch in horror as the slides clicked by and a queasy feeling swirled in her stomach. Her gut screamed at her to run, but she was frozen.

The projector changed pictures quickly, shifting its focus to Bill's mother whose hair was swept over her face, making her features unseen to the eye. The images continued to click faster, slowly revealing Bill's mother's face as her hair was swept out of her face. The hair swept over her face again, then slowly flew out of her face in the next image, only it wasn't the familiar face of Bill's mother. Someone let out a whimper. Jill couldn't tell who it was, she didn't care, all she could think about were the orange eyes staring back at her. A clown—the clown from Ben's room—slowly morphed onto the projection as a sinister smile slithered on its face, revealing its set of blood-stained teeth. Jill clutched Beverly even closer, and Beverly intertwined their hands together.

Eddie jumped away from the projecton, falling into Richie. "What the fuck is that?" Richie cried, grabbing onto the back of Eddie's shirt for dear life.

"I don't fucking know!" Eddie exclaimed, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. Richie balled the fabric of Eddie's shirt into his hands and tugged the boy closer so they were holding each other in a contorted embrace.

"Turn it off!" Beverly screamed. "Fucking turn it off!" She jumped to her feet and backed away from the projector with Jill by her side.

In the midst of all the yelps and yells, Mike charged forward and kicked the projector off the small table. It smashed onto the ground into pieces, causing the preteens to quickly move away from the broken projector. The room fell into silence and everyone exhaled deeply, their heart rates slowing down. Jill glanced at Beverly, opening her mouth to ask if she was all right, but before she could verbally question, the projector turned back on and began clicking faster. The images blurred together, causing Jill's head to spin as her heart dropped to her stomach. But then it stopped, revealing a blank screen.

The clown suddenly popped out of the screen, towering over all the Losers larger than any human known to man with its razor teeth seething and its eyes bulging. Everyone let out a piercing scream of fear as they tried to back further away from the clown. It was on all fours, barely contorted enough to fit in the garage. Jill thought back to the picture she had seen in Ben's room. The sinister smile It had on its face matched the one it gave the Losers at that very moment, revealing a row of blood-stained teeth that reeked of metal.

Jill blinked. The room was encased in darkness as silence engulfed them. Someone let out a shrill scream followed by a loud noise. Something had fallen. Jill couldn't decipher what her gut was telling her to do. But she didn't think too long on it before the projector flashed a light on the wall, revealing the clown. It twisted its head in the direction of Stanley who seemed to be stuck in place as he stared up at It, terror in his eyes and mouth wide open with a scream trapped in his throat.

"Run, Stanley!" Jill shouted just as the lights went out again. Fuck. Stanley would be dead meat if no one got to him in time. Jill knew that and she wouldn't let that happen. This time she didn't think. This time she tore herself from Beverly's side and lunged at Stan's silhouette. She reached for him in the darkness, clasping her hands around his arms. His burning skin, thawed hers as she pushed him to the back of the garage. She took off after him, but her foot snagged on something and she collided with the floor. Her face smacked the hard flooring, causing blood to gush from her nose.

The projector flickered to life again just as someone screamed Jill's name, but the voices were muffled in her ears. Her head pounded in her ears as she let out a stifled groan and rolled onto her back. She blinked rapidly and clasped a hand against her nose to stop the bleeding, but the liquid only trickled down her arm. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the sinister smile of the clown staring down at her.

Jill jerked back, crawling away from It. This seemed to assume the creature as it crawled toward her on its knees, the sound echoing through the room. She tried scurrying to her feet, but her body stayed frozen on the ground as the shrill screams of her friends erupted all around her. Her heart hammered in her chest as her breathing quickened and a scream bubbled in her throat. The clown crawled closer to her, its razor-sharp teeth on display as its claws reached for her. She squeezed her eyes shut, reveling in the stars as she anticipated the pain of sharp teeth puncturing her flesh and bone. But the pain never came, instead, two arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from the threat. She let out a small shriek as she jumped at the contact and fell into the body wrapped around hers, causing the two of them to fall on the ground just as light consumed the garage.

A gust of wind blew into the room, brushing across Jill's skin. She fluttered her eyes open to see Beverly with the help of Mike and Ben had flung the garage door open. The redhead was staring at her with anxiety-ridden eyes. Eddie and Richie were still in a contorted embrace as they tried to catch their breaths while Stan stood in the corner shaking with fear. Jill whipped her head to the projector area, finding it to be empty. It was gone. Jill swallowed hard and breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing into the body behind her. Then it dawned on her someone had pulled her out of the way of being It's next meal, and she had no clue who it could have been.

Jill glanced down at the arms wrapped around her waist. "Um . . . " She pried them from her body and swiveled around to look the person in the face. She didn't know who she was expecting but she certainly didn't expect to meet the eyes of Bill Denbrough. Her brows creased together as she took in his breathless expression. "You saved me?" Her heart dropped. "Why would you—"

"Jill," Beverly cut her off as she approached the two preteens clustered on the ground.

Jill tore her gaze from the boy's face and took in Beverly's appearance. Her orange curls were in disarray, clinging to her forehead due to her perspiration. Her bottom lip was trembling as she analyzed any injuries Jill had acquired. Jill's nose was still bleeding, but neither of them dwelled on it too long before Jill scrambled to her feet and collapsed into Beverly, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl. The blood from her nose stained Beverly's shirt as Jill buried her head in the crook of her neck. She breathed in her scent—strawberries and the slight stench of cigarettes.

Beverly wrapped her arms around Jill's waist. "Don't ever fucking do that again," she whispered, tugging her closer.

Jill nodded into her shoulder before she reluctantly released her grip on the girl and glanced down at Bill who was still on the floor. She felt the urge to give him a hug but she felt stupid even thinking of doing that because of the way she had been acting toward him. Don't get her wrong, she still thought Bill was totally out of his mind and an idiot, but she didn't want to punch him in the face at that exact moment.

She breathed out a sigh and stretched out a hand toward Bill. Bill glanced at it then back up at Jill's face before he hesitantly grasped her hand and pulled himself to his feet. As soon as he was standing, Beverly leaned forward and hugged Bill before she glanced over at the rest of the group and checked to see if they were all alive. They were. They all were still alive.

Bill breathed out a sigh and made an advance toward the rest of the group, but Jill stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, confusion swirling in his green eyes, as Jill squinted her eyes at him. Huh, she thought, I don't want to stab out his eyeballs right now . . . odd. She didn't say anything like that or even show she was thinking that, but she did offer him a tight half-smile. "Bill," she quietly began, "thank you."

Bill looked at Jill in disbelief, then an understanding look graced his face and he nodded in response. He even offered her a smile of his own then headed to the garage door, crossing over the threshold into the outside. He had his back turned to the group with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared into the distance.

"It saw us and It knows where we are!" Eddie screeched, snapping the group out of their dazes. He shook Richie by the shoulders as he breathed erratically. Richie pried his hands off his shoulders, and Eddie immediately reached inside his fanny pack for his inhaler. He pressed the inhaler to his lips and squeezed a puff of air into his lungs.

"It al—always knew," Bill stated. He slowly turned around to face the group with a solemn expression on his face. "So let's go."

"Go? Go where?" Ben weakly asked.

"Neibolt," Bill proposed, sternly. "That's where G—G—G—Georgie is—"

"After that?" Stan cut him off. He gestured to Jill who was trying to stop her nose from bleeding with the collar of her flannel. His eyes raked over her appearance, guilt striking him. She had saved him. This was his fault. He shook his head at his thoughts and dug into the pockets of his khakis, pulling out a handkerchief. He handed the cloth to Jill who graciously accepted it and proceeded to clog her nose with it.

Richie glanced at Jill, then back at Eddie. "Yeah, it's summer," he piped up, slapping on a goofy grin. "We should be outside—"

"If you say it's summer one more fuh—f—fuh—fucking time . . . " Bill spat, clenching his fists and shaking his head at the preteens in front of him. He couldn't finish his sentence, not with the possibility of his brother being trapped somewhere dark and scary in the house of horrors. He knew what he was getting the others into, but he needed to find his brother. He just had to. He owed him that much. With that decided, he turned on his heels and grabbed his bike.

"Bill? Wait!" Beverly yelled, smacking her hands against her sides in defeat. Her cries were useless. Bill was already gone. He was riding the long road to Neibolt and he would do it alone if he had to. The Losers knew that. "Come on, guys! We have to go after him!"

The rest of the Losers looked at her and nodded despite all of them just wanting to go home. Mike and Eddie took off first then Beverly before Richie got pissed off and mounted his bike as well. That left Jill and Stan to mount their bikes together and take off down the road with heavy hearts. They were both scared of what kind of horrors awaited them inside that damned house. And they wondered what would become of them if that clown came back to finish the job. Jill didn't know what Stan's opinion was on the situation, but that uncertainty horrified Jill.

Fear. It was a tricky thing. Jill Samson couldn't understand it. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to comprehend it. To learn what she feared would be to learn who she was. She knew that. It was as clear as day. Horror defined the boundaries she had set for herself, but it also had the power to set her free. But there was one factor missing from the equation. Jill Samson didn't have any sole fears. She was afraid of everything and she wasn't sure if she could rely on primal instincts to save her from her own mind.

a/n: jillverly's bond is going to make me cry!! they're my emotional support besties!! also i am sorry that this is so boring!! it will be more action-packed next chapter!! anyways sorry this took so long to update! Don't be afraid to give me feedback or anything. I love hearing from you guys.

also question!! would anyone be interested in reading a sophia lillis social media fic connected to this ?????

thanks for reading!