a//n: I had to tweak the timeline a smidge for this to work. Nothing major but the parade/park is roughly a week after the rock fight, not a day. And I left room for the shower cap scene afterwords

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐲
𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐦𝐞
𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦?

- Rockwell, Somebody's Watching Me

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Since the day of the rock fight, the Losers had been inseparable. And not only had that day come to be known as the day their bond had been forged but the day they had found a place to call their own: the clubhouse. A small subterranean dugout that Ben had found while playing in the Barrens one day. After many a reinforcement, he had transformed it into a habitable space for him and his six, now seven best friends. After their defeat of the Bowers gang, Ben had taken them into the Barrens, and just across the Kenduskeag Stream to the aforementioned fort where their bonds were furthered forged.

And apart from their dark confessions at the park and the overcast of fear looming over their heads, Y/n had suggested another trip to the clubhouse as a morale booster. They each found themselves there with one another quite a bit, particularly when things were looking gloomy. It had quickly become a sanctuary for the children. And since their taking residency, the dingy little dugout had filled with trinkets and treasures of their own, slowly but surely growing far more homely with each visit.

This particular trip to the clubhouse was less than exciting, everyone was still fairly unsettled from their conversation at the park earlier that day. And the journey through the barrens and across the Kenduskeag was considerably silent apart from the trickling stream and the singing birds. And every so often they would hear the scuffle of Ben readjusting his backpack over his shoulder.

When they had left the park, he had suggested stopping by his house to pick something up and the others complied, curiously. Before they could debate on whether or not to follow him inside, he had returned from his house with a thick brown burlap cloth folded up under his arms. He was unzipping his backpack as he walked across his front lawn, tucking some more unseen things inside before storing the large piece of cloth and ropes in as well.

"What is that, Ben?" Y/n had asked, balancing herself on her bike as it stood still on the pavement, her toes reaching for the concrete.

He had closed his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before grabbing his bike.

"Oh, it's our old hammock." Everyone's face's lit up at his words, the first they had perked since the park. "We had it at our old house, but, we don't really have a good place to hang it here, so I figured we could find a spot in the clubhouse."

"That's a great idea," Mike beamed.

Ben smiled at the comment and turned a little pink. He had always found it odd his interest in architecture, the kids at his old school always gave him grief for it. And over time it became an instinct to bury his interest, to never bring it up. But when he showed the Losers the clubhouse, they were enthralled. With the structure and his abilities. Ben was still getting used to their fascination and support in his passions, but he sure did enjoy it.

And soon enough, the eight Losers found themselves descending the ladder into the place each and every one of them could call home. From the moment they entered, their noses were filled with the overwhelming and concentrated aroma of dust, and fresh layers of earth still damp from previous rains.

It was intoxicating to the Loser's as it became the smell they associated with the clubhouse, their hideaway. Their hideaway from the Bowers gang, their hideaway from the world, and if they believed hard enough, a hideaway from It. A place where they could be stronger than the world told them they were, a place that reminded them that they were stronger than the world told them they were.

But even this trip didn't seem to quite do the trick for each of them.

"I don't see why we're here," Richie snorted, waltzing over to the crooked beam and slapped it gently - learning from Ben's mistakes. "Unless this fucker is demon proof or whatever the fuck that thing is I don't see how this is gonna help."

"Doesn't mean we can't try and have fun while we can," Y/n argued. "Or at least try and clear our heads, calm down a little bit and collect ourselves. We can work something out some other day if we want, but not today. I mean, look at us,"

Y/n gestured around the small circle the Losers had formed at the center of the clubhouse. Apart from Y/n, everyone was quiet and closed off, arms either tucked at their sides or they were wringing their hands. It was not the same seven misfits that stood together against Bowers, but the seven lonely children that were isolated and afraid when It had found them.

"Look, I'm scared too. But somethings telling me we need to enjoy this while we can."

Y/n sighed, her waving arms falling to rest at her sides in exasperation and her eyes fell to the dirt floor. For some unfathomable reason, she would never be able to explain, the turtle from that day at the quarry popped into her mind, and a faint ghost of a smile dusted her cheeks. She looked around at her friends with a reassuring sense of confidence and some of them seemed to take to her words.

A similar thought crossed Beverly's mind and she smirked at her best friend and nodded, hands now tucked into her back pockets.

"Y/n's right, let's just enjoy the rest of the day while we can. It's summer!"

Bill fought the urge to roll his eyes at the familiar argument, but even he couldn't deny the whole idea of forgetting sounded tempting to him.

Poor Eddie - who had been clutching his inhaler tightly to his chest in between puffs of the device - looked around the circle, then up at Richie. Richie looked down at his best friend and shrugged, slapping the kids back and the inhaler nearly flew out of his tiny grasp.

"Whatdya' say, Eddie Spaghetti, you up for some good ol' fashioned repression and denial? Shouldn't be too hard for ya pal, that's what - every Wednesday night for you huh?"

If Eddie wasn't still holding the albuterol captive in his swollen lungs, he would've snapped at Richie for saying such things, and above all that God-awful nickname again! But instead, he rolled his eyes and looked to Y/n, ignoring that his heart was beating just a twinge faster, and hesitantly nodded.

"Great" Y/n smiled, relieved Eddie agreed.

She less than gracefully twirled around - her ankle ached in reply - to look for the boombox Bill had brought last time. Swallowing a wince, Y/n reached the boombox and turned the radio on, giving the room a lighter ambiance already. They soon quickly recognized the song New York Groove, by Kiss as it was fading out.

Y/n turned to Ben and gestured to his backpack.

"So, should we hang up the hammock?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah sure."

Ben took the faded backpack from his shoulder and unzipped it, retrieving the thick burlap cloth as the radio station announced the next song of the previous decade.

The Losers dispersed, making room for Y/n and Ben as they unfolded the hammock, the ends of the ropes trailing in the dirt after them. From the boombox in the corner, came the gentle tune of a piano, and a soft voice spilled into the atmosphere as the last rays of the sun shone through the entrance to the clubhouse.

"I'll light the fire
You put the flowers in the vase that you bought today"

Ben gestured between two beams structured across the room and the pair made their way over as the song, Our House by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young swelled, giving the rest of the Losers the sense of home and comfort.

"Come to me now and rest your head for just five minutes, everything is good"

Ben began instructing Y/n on how to hang the hammock, and the two set to work. Stan and Bev had begun gathering stray leaves that made their way into the clubhouse while they had been gone and set to tidying up. Between the two, it wasn't long before a competition formed to see who could get the most leaves and twigs out.

"Such a cozy room, the windows are illuminated by the
Sunshine through them, fiery gems for you, only for you"

Meanwhile, Eddie, Richie, and Mike had begun playing a game of cards with a deck that Richie had left last time. Of course, a game hadn't been decided yet. The three boys - mainly Richie and Eddie - had begun arguing over what to play. It was between Bullshit, Sevens and Mike just wanted to play Palace.

"Our house is a very, very, very fine house with two cats in the yard,
Life used to be so hard,
Now everything is easy 'cause of you and our-"

Ben, Y/n, Bev and Stan had finished with their respective tasks before the trio could decide on a game. Everyone's attention was drawn back to Y/n and Ben when they put the finishing touches on the hammock.

"Alright," Y/n said, dusting off her hands after pushing herself off the dirt floor. "The hammock's all-"

Before she could finish her sentence Richie had leaped to his feet - cursing profusely under his breath when he bumped his head on a low beam - and ran for the hammock. Making sure to go out of his way to shove Eddie to ground for no particular reason and his small frame hit the dirt with a rather loud 'umph'. Protests were thrown across the room but Richie merely stretched out his long lanky legs and rested his head under his folded arms, sighing in content.

"Welp," Richie sighed, popping the 'p'. "You were right, tootes. Coming down here wasn't so bad after all. And good thinking with the hammock, haystack. You got a good nugget in there."

Richie winked at Y/n and nodded firmly at Ben. The Losers rolled their eyes in near-perfect sync - a feat easier around one another than one might think - and Richie closed his eyes, ignoring their glares. Eddie was extra furious given he was still feverishly dusting several spots of dirt off himself.

"Alright, wake me when It's dead."

"Enough, Richie." Y/n warned, before turning to Ben. "Ben, what I tell ya? Within the minute."

Ben chuckled and Stan stepped forward.

"Richie, we're sharing the hammock, you have to get up one way or another" He warned.

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Stanley the Manley." Richie retorted, still never opening his eyes.

Stan rolled his eyes and stepped around the hammock. Catching Y/n's eye, he gestured silently to the hammock and an unsuspecting Richie. Smirking, she made her way around the hammock and gestured for the others to continue talking. About what, she didn't care. They caught on almost immediately, but Eddie choked. Mike was quick to cover.

"Eddie, if you really want we can play-"

THUMP

"THE FUCK?!"

Stan and Y/n had flipped the hammock and Richie was pulling his dirtied face from the ground with a wince.

"The fuck was that?"

"We all know you weren't m-moving otherwise, Richie." Bill shot.

"Hey, don't throw a fit just cause you guys were too slow."

Richie turned to see Stan sat in the hammock, smirking at him.

"You were saying?"

"Oh, come on! That's not fair!" Richie gestured widely at Stan, looking desperately around the room for scraps of sympathy.

Ignoring Richie's protests, Y/n turned to the others and raised a brow.

"How about we each have ten minutes? That way it's fair."

The Losers looked at one another and a chorus of agreement rang out.

"S-s-sounds good."

"Okay." Mike nodded.

"Yeah, alright."

"I call next!" Bev called.

"Oh, for fuck sake! Don't I get a say in this? Wasn't I the one just violently thrown from the hammock? Eds, come on! Back me up!"

Eddie wore a deadpan look as he met his best friend's eyes, bits of twig that Beverly and Stan had missed unknowingly caught in tufts of his hair.

"Oh, don't try that with me, dickhead!" Eddie shot back. "You're the one who threw me in the dirt, why the fuck would I help you, and for fuck's sake stop calling me Eds!"

Eddie took a deep breath after his small rant and glared at Richie. Scattered chuckles bounced across the Losers, Y/n's loudest of all.

"Good for you, shrimp" Y/n giggled.

"So just fuck me then, right?" Richie grumbled from the ground.

Richie was not quite expecting a chorus of agreements echo off the Losers though he couldn't say he was surprised.

"Pretty much."

"Yeah,"

"Uh-huh,"

"Yep,"

Huffing, he sat near the hammock and began finding ways to make Stan's turn in the hammock unpleasant. Stan didn't take this, of course, having many years under his belt of dealing with the loudmouth. Y/n looked at the pouting Tozier boy and felt a smile creep up and a twinge of guilt. She maneuvered around the hammock, and knelt down next to her friend, resting her ankle on the dirt floor where it wasn't strained.

"Oh, don't look so glum, Tozier. It's not a good look on you," She rested her elbow on the boy's shoulder and he quickly scoffed, brushing off her words.

"Oh please, everything looks good on me, tootes, and you know it." Richie shot back, turning to meet her eye. "And I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted a piece of this either."

Y/n guffawed, grabbing the attention of the Kaspbrak boy across the room, who was now watching them curiously. Her laughter bubbled into a small chuckle that would be bouncing around Eddie's head for the rest of the day like a catchy song. He watched fondly as the two engaged with one another and he noted how well they always got along.

Y/n shook her head, trying at no avail to shake the smile from her lips. "You wish, Tozier."

Richie held a smile of his own as he looked to her, that was until he glanced past her head and across the room to see the captivating gaze Eddie was held in. His big brown eyes focused on the girl beside him and that familiar pang that always returned when he caught Eddie staring at her like that. Richie swallowed thickly, his quick wit and sharp tongue taking over and he returned his attention to Y/n as if nothing happened.

Richie shrugged, clicking his tongue. "No need to be shy, babe. Everybody wants a slice, and there's plenty for you."

He puckered his lips and exaggeratedly smacked his lips at her and it was enough to do the trick. Her smile was gone, quickly replaced by her lips pressing into a firm line as she shoved his head away playfully. The Losers chimed in almost immediately. Various disgusted and disgruntled 'Beep beep, Richies' rang out after that comment and Y/n finally rose to her feet with a simple grunt.

"Ech, I told you not to call me that, you dick." She grumbled, though she bit back a defeated smile, as she walked away.

"That's my name, don't wear it out-" They said in sync, Y/n joining Bev on the bench on the far wall. "Yeah, yeah, I walked right into that one."

Richie sniggered triumphantly, and with his new burst of confidence, he returned to his attempts to aggravate Stan. Ben meanwhile, had begun making plans for another seating arrangement in his head, to divert some attention away from the hammock. He remembered he had some spare rope he kept with him in his backpack for such occasions - spur of the moment projects - and there were some sturdy enough boards laying around the place. By the end of the day - hopefully, with help - he could fashion a small swing seat for him and his friends. Not to swing, of course, there wasn't enough stability for that, but for sitting.

He shared his plan with Bill and the two got to work. Bill thought it was a terrific idea, given how much fuss was being made over the hammock. Occupying the far corner of the room, was Mike and Eddie sat at the low coffee table the Losers had found last Wednesday. Mike had made the discovery, passing through one of the smaller neighborhoods in Derry when he saw someone had left it out on the street for the taking. The Losers gathered that morning and hauled it to the clubhouse, took all day to get it there but at least they had a surface for cards and such. Between Mike and Eddie, it was a bit easier to decide on a card game. They landed on Palace, and Eddie was finding he was having loads more fun than he did with Sevens.

In between turns, he would find his eyes wandering past Mike at the bench on the wall. Y/n was thoroughly invested in Beverly's story, she was nodding along eagerly with a smile creeping up on her face. Eddie hadn't realized one was creeping up on his own, but he jumped slightly when she burst out laughing. Perhaps he was startled by the noise or he was just on guard from staring. Eddie looked away but he cursed himself when he realized she was looking at him.

She had seen it.

As for Y/n, she felt her stomach do a small flip when she felt a certain pair of brown eyes on her. Still smiling, she looked past Beverly, and on the ground, sitting curled up on a mat at the coffee table, blushing profusely and attempting desperately to avoid eye contact was Eddie.

A small hum of a laugh vibrated through Beverly's chest, and without looking at him, she knew.

"Is he looking at you again?" A smirk painted her face.

Y/n hummed a response she knew Eddie wouldn't notice. With a fleeting burst of confidence, Y/n looked at the small boy, meeting his eye, and winked. She returned her attention to Bev, smirking yet she couldn't help but keep an eye on him. The poor boy blushed instantaneously, his neck and face grew hot and when Mike returned his attention to his friend - he had been too caught up in what cards to play - became very concerned. Eddie was now completely red. But this time he didn't look away, and despite his racing heart and raging blush, he allowed himself to meet her eye once more and much to his surprise, the ends of his lips even twitched into a smile.

Y/n was attempting to subdue the thunderous heartbeat in her chest before she could be heard, but not much time passed until the topic had changed along with the music. Each of them was swept back up in their own conversations in no time, though their minds replayed the small moment over and over. By now, several songs had come and gone, filling up the minutes of the time that wasted away in the company of the Losers.

The eight misfits were not fully immersed in their own activities, but still very much engaged with another. And it wasn't long until the looming threat of their previous subject at the park was briefly forgotten. For now, they were safe, tucked away in their own private corner of the world, lost in the blissful moments of childhood.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Bill inserts the last tack into the wall, the large map reading 'DERRY SEWER SYSTEM' now hangs in the garage. As usual, the Losers had arrived at slightly different intervals. Mike and Stan arrived first, and Mike helped set up the projector while Stan was hanging blankets over the windows to prevent as much light as possible from entering. Ben had arrived shortly after, be had brought the slides that Bill had requested, and the last to show was Bev and Y/n who had left their complex together and ran into Richie and Eddie on the way.

He could hear their conversation coming up the driveway, and the sounds of Bev eagerly greeting Ben and the others - seemingly happy to get a break from being the fourth wheel.

"What's the matter, Eddie? Don't tell me you're afraid of the shape-shifting clown, are ya?" Richie spoke, as the three came to a stop near the garage where they discarded their bikes.

"Oh, fuck off, Richie!" Eddie huffed.

Y/n laughed, but it was very weak and sounded almost forced. "Don't worry Eddie. Richie and I have your back. Right, Richie?"

Instinctively, her hand found Eddie's back and she pats him gently. Y/n smiled weakly, and it was clear she was just as nervous. Her hand fell from his back and immediately, Eddie missed it being there. Eddie didn't know how to respond, all he could muster was a shaky smile in thanks. It wasn't much, but he knew she had gotten the message.

In turn, Richie began ruffling Eddie's hair and the boy flinched trying to escape his friend's grasp.

"Hey! Hey, what the hell are-?"

"Why, of course, we got to protect ol' Eddie Spaghetti! In fact," A light bulb went off over Richie's head and he looked to Y/n who was listening amused. "Y/n and I, are the proud co-founders of... P.E.K.S"

Eddie finally manages to escape from Richie's torment and he huffed, attempting to adjust his hair. Eddie looks up at Richie, giving him an odd look, unknowingly Y/n was just as taken aback.

"The what? What the hell are you talking about?"

Richie swung his arm around Eddie and the three continued their journeys into the garage, finally joining the others. The rest of the Losers were just finishing laying out chairs and pillows for them to sit on.

"You don't know? It's P.E.K.S, that is 'p', 'e', 'k', 's' my friend, P.E.K.S. Protect Eddie Kaspbrak Squad and we take our job very seriously, don't we tootes?"

An honest laugh escaped Y/n and for once she was relieved she had stayed quiet and went along with Richie's antics to find out, cause she agreed wholeheartedly. Swallowing her surprise, a smile found it's way onto her face and she looked to Eddie.

"Damn straight, shrimp."

Mike reached the garage door and reached for the handle, he paused taking one look around the room at his friends.

"Everyone set?"

Mike was met with scattered confirmations and with one swift tug of his arm, he pulled the door shut. All remaining sunlight - apart from a few weak rays peaking through the roof slats and the edges of the blankets - had vanished. All that illuminated the garage was the pale white light of the projector where Bill had just put in the slide Ben had brought of Old Derry. The same slide he had found in Ben's room the day they had gone to the quarry.

The group dispersed, getting situated around the projector. Unfortunately, they weren't able to find many seats so that left Mike and Bill standing near the back and Y/n opted for a floor pillow in front of the projector where she could see.

It also didn't hurt that she was near Eddie. But she did feel a bit exposed, she was front and center and the others were tucked in with one another in a way. However, it did give her the benefit of stretching out her bad leg. And yet, Y/n could not quite shake the feeling rooted deep inside her. To her it felt eerily similar to a common phenomenon experienced by millions of people around the globe, to her it felt as if she - and her friends, in their anxious huddle - were gathering around preparing themselves in front of their screen. Accompanied by the sickly feeling of dread and anxiety, mere butterflies - the special kind of butterflies - in her stomach that migrated only when a scary movie was about to start.

And decades in the future her brain would tell her it was nothing more than that. That that awful, nauseating feeling that had bubbled in the pits of her stomach that day was nothing more than a product of special effects and a cheesy plotline. And anytime coworkers would talk about movie nights they had as kids, and engage with her about such things, her mind would show her nothing more than a hazy ersatz memory it had painted for her.

Of her, under blankets and pillows, surrounded by kids - she would never stop to realize the faces were fuzzy, people she didn't know, she always felt alone in these memories. Her at the front of the pack, all crowded around a white television screen, her and the blurry kids, jumping back in fright at the blank white picture of static. This is all she would come to remember. A scary movie, with some blurry faces, five or six at least - one of the faces always stuck out stronger than the others, just a little bit clearer and wildly familiar but the thought would never linger long enough for her to recognize them. Y/n wouldn't remember that she was in fact with Stan Uris and Beverly Marsh, or even Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon, and Ben Hanscom all stuffed in Bill Denbrough's garage on a hot summer day in July, investigating the darkest mystery of their small hometown.

But at the moment, all Y/n knew was that they were simply looking at Bill's projector, and he was sharing his theory and where It lives. Truthfully, Y/n did not know what to expect beyond that, but she could not shake that pit in her stomach. The pit that reminded her of the sickly feeling one gets when they are about to watch a horror movie. When the harsh violin plays, and the thunder strikes and one can feel the adrenaline coursing through their veins and they're trembling in all the excitement.

Y/n didn't like that she felt this way, but she tried to dismiss it. Even if there was credit it to it - she didn't want to admit there was but if she did at least she was surrounded by her friends. The slide came into the focus, and the words 'MAP of the city of DERRY' appeared in the corner. Suddenly, all the details of Derry were splayed out perfectly in line with the Derry Public Works system Bill had hung up. The children could now see the entire town of Derry, including the interconnecting pathways and tunnels below, represented by a strangely ominous bright red line. It branched out from the far left corner of the map, skewing off into many different branches, touching every corner of Derry.

"Look," Bill said, gesturing to something he had scribbled on his map. "T-T-That's where G-G-Georgie disappeared."

Everyone's eyes fell on the small 'x' marked on a red line on Jackson street. Scratched in black ink next to it were the words, 'Storm Drain'. Bill gestured to another familiar location that overlapped a red line.

"There's the Ironworks. And The Black Spot."

Sure enough, sprinkled across the map of Derry were the mentioned locations of Derry's biggest disasters. Each of them bordering the sewers.

"Everywhere it happens, it-it's all connected by the sewers," Bill said.

Every red branch, every red line, all came from one spot, one source on the map where everything overlapped. The pits in everyone's stomachs bloomed and they all knew.

"And they all meet up at the-"

"The well house." Ben realized aloud.

Eddie looked back slowly and tentatively towards the screen. Much like his friends his heart was pounding faster and faster. But Eddie could feel the familiar grasp around his lungs, and it only tightened at Stan's words.

"It's in the house on Neibolt Street," Stan said, in a similar realization.

Eddie remembered all too well the last time he had been there. But part of him had hoped it was all a nightmare. Some sick and cruel elaborate scene his mind had conjured up.

"You mean that creepy-ass house where all the junkies and hobos like to sleep?" Richie asked.

Shakily, Eddie pulled out his inhaler and gave it a good shake before bringing it to his lips. He tried his best to keep the medicine in his lungs long enough for it to take effect but he choked down a gasp, as he hunched over. Y/n moved closer to Eddie and her eyes fell to his free hand. Cautiously, she took it, looking to him for silent confirmation, he seemed too involved with steadying his breathing to notice it seemed.

"I hate that place," Beverly mumbled nervously, unaware of the pair in front.

Y/n assumed he was too frightened to notice her acts of comfort. That was until she felt the muscles in his hand relax, only slightly, and gave her palm a gentle squeeze in thanks.

"It always feels like it's watching me." Bev continued.

Letting out a shaky breath, and slowly but surely regaining his composure, Eddie sat up. Though he neglected to release Y/n's hand, and he was sure in any other moment he would be a blushing mess but this felt stable to Eddie. It felt like a lifeline, a reminder he wasn't alone. Not like Neibolt.

"That's where I saw It." He gulped. "That's where I saw the clown."

Y/n hadn't realized immediately that she had been tracing circles into the back of his hand with the pad of her thumb. It was a habit she had developed since that first night of summer, anytime she was nervous she would tuck in her legs against her chest, and her fingers would absentmindedly find their way to her bandages. The pads of her fingers fidgeting with the frayed ends just to satisfy the creeping feeling of restlessness.

"Tha-That's where It lives," Bill said.

Eddie took another sharp breath of his inhaler, and this time around had better luck holding his breath. Y/n continued to stare at the big red dot on the map, it almost felt as if she were to look away it would disappear. Like finding a spider and leaving the room to find something to kill it with, only to return to find it had crawled away.

"I can't imagine anything ever wanting to live there," Mike said shakily.

Eddie jumped from his seat suddenly, his hand leaving Y/n's and they all watch as he scrambles to front, the projector illuminating his small frame.

"Can we stop talking about this?" Eddie yells, gasping for air his arms waiving desperately as panic overwhelms him. "I-I-I can barely breathe. Th-This is summer. We're kids. I can barely breathe, I'm up here having a fucking asthma attack. I'm not doing this."

Eddie whirls around and grabs the map of Derry's Sewer System and rips it off the wall.

"What the hell? Put the map back." Bill snaps.

Eddie shakes his head firmly. "Mm-mm."

A loud click grabs their attention, and the screen over Eddie darkens briefly before it changes to another slide.

Y/n turns around to look between Bill and the device.

"Bill, what are you doing?"

"N-nothing, that w-wasn't me."

Another click.

And another.

The projector began clicking forward on its own, and it had now reached the beginning of the reel. Photos of the Denbrough family on vacation began to play, the photos changing at a regular pace.

"What's going on?" Stan asked impatiently.

Eddie backed away slowly, his eyes never leaving the projector. Y/n cautiously shifted back on the pillow, farther away from the wall.

"I got it. Hold on." Mike offered gently.

He fiddled with the projector, he pressed every button several times but it was no use. It must have been jammed. At the very least, he hopes it was.

"Guys," he mumbled nervously, words dying on his tongue.

Several photos had come and gone, and the projector now focused on a shot of the four Denbroughs in their Sunday best. They were all holding hands and Mrs. Denbrough's red hair was being whipped around in the wind, blocking her face.

The projector clicked again, but the scene did not change. The shot was brought closer to Georgie, and Ben was instantly reminded of his trip to the library before he met the rest of the Losers.

"Georgie," Bill croaked, as the image zoomed closer and closer to boy's toothy grin.

"Bill?"

By, now Y/n had risen from the pillow and scrambled back into the stool Eddie had previously occupied.

The speed picked up and the pictures grew faster and faster as the projector flew through the slides. The picture moved more like that of a stop motion animation than a movie, every other movement caught on film. The camera angles itself up and changes focus to what is supposed to be Mrs. Denbrough. The red tendrils of hair begin to move, rapidly increasing until it isn't every other fragment but more like a regular picture movie.

And to their horror, the hair is cast aside and underneath is the painted white face of the clown. It's unnaturally buck teeth sinking into the flesh of It's own bottom lip. A wicked smirk drawn all the way up to past It's yellow eyes.

Y/n jumped back, her arms outstretched behind her and she began herding Stan, Eddie and herself away from the wall.

"What the fuck is that? What the fuck is that?" Richie hollered, pulling Eddie and Y/n toward him.

Eddie nearly tripped over Richie's chair as he was pulled into his grasp and Y/n still had her arms out herding them backward. She could hear Eddie's shrieks clearly from behind her.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!"

"Stan!" Y/n cried.

Stan had somewhat frozen in place, much like Ben, Bev and Bill had but even they were backing away slightly. He didn't seem to hear her and looked around frantically at her friends. Beverly, Stan, and Richie had not seen the clown before even though they had each encountered it. It had never appeared to them before as a clown and if she wasn't in immediate danger Beverly would have stopped to think about how this thing was in the living room with Y/n while she was asleep.

"Turn it off!" She shouted quickly. "TURN IT OFF!"

Y/n's top priority was ensuring Stan's safety, so she lurched forward and grabbed Stan by the back of the shirt, and yanked him back. He crashed into Mike and Eddie she glanced at the projector, trying desperately to bury the overwhelming thoughts and possibilities. Her eyes landed on the cord and she ripped the plug from the socket but the picture kept moving and she could feel the clown's eyes smiling at her, smugly. Her now in It's direct sights, It began to mimic that night, the clown blinked and the white's of It's eyes had disappeared. Nothing but dark chasms and two glowing yellow irises floating in the center.

It all became infinitely more real to Y/n. And It pissed her off. She raised her good leg, and with a forceful grunt, she kicked the crate and the projector toppled onto the ground. Light from the machine had bounced all around the room on its journey to the floor and it landed upside down, picture crookedly aimed at the wall behind her and to the right of the four boys.

Everyone froze, too fearful to move. Y/n most of all. She had gotten Stan to safety - she could only hope - but now she was in his place when another click echoed throughout the silent room. Frozen on the screen was the clown. It was blurry and It almost looked stuck but all Y/n could do was try and catch her breath, and calm her racing heart. Another click. She felt as if she was stuck, her body not her own and just like a nightmare no matter how much she was begging her legs to move they wouldn't budge. Another click. The image went blank, and several shaky breaths were released.

Another slow click and the gigantic clown popped out of the picture, barely missing Y/n. She shrieked, and only then did her limbs catch up with her brain's signals. She cursed herself and her dumb fucking luck when she felt her footing slip out from underneath her. One of the dozens of slides had scattered the garage floor around her and caused her fall. She landed squarely on her backside and she scrambled back as far and fast as she could as the clown crawled forward after her. It's unnaturally giant size took up the entire garage.

There wasn't a Loser who didn't scream after her. Richie snapped into action and while Y/n had made it pretty far on her own for It's speed and her aching leg, Richie quickly hooked his arms under hers and dragged her across the garage, not bothering to waste time by stopping to drag her to her feet. The others were tumbling across the garage to get the door tripping over one another as they ran and Y/n watched in horror as the clown reached out it's long and thinning twig-like arm after her. It's sharp talon-like claws soaked with her blood - as it had been that night - reached for her and as her legs were scrambling across the pavement. Trying desperately to retract them from his grasp and the last thing she saw before a flood of light engulfed her vision was the clown's black eyes glaring at her as it reached for her legs.

Y/n felt as if her lungs might explode from how fast she had been inhaling air. Before she could process what had happened she found herself looking up at the ceiling of Bill's garage, several faces looking down at her. Sunlight was flooding into the room and she could barely register that the garage door was now open.

"Y/n!"

"Oh, my God,"

"What the fuck was that?"

"Y/n? Y/n!"

"I don't know, man!"

Y/n could feel herself shaking horribly, and she suddenly noticed several hands on her shoulder and back and she realized she was sitting up. She flinched at their touch and she looked around the room quickly, afraid she would find It lurking somewhere.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

"Jesus, fuck!"

"Y/n?"

Blinking several times she looked around and saw the scattered faces of her friends. Everyone was panting heavily. Her face collapsed in the palm of her hands and she was breathing frantically, reminding herself to at least try and slow her lungs and heart. Her body rocked back and forth slightly, her adrenaline still pumping, needing an outlet. Needing to move. Finally, her breath began to slow and she looked up, nodding at her friends to ease their minds.

"Thanks... Richie," she managed between breaths.

"No problem," he panted, just as jarred. "Just for fuck sake, run next time, will ya?"

Beverly and Eddie came into view and extended their hands for her and she gladly accepted both. Y/n hissed slightly at her aggravated leg and when she looked down she was relieved to see no further damage had been done. Shakily, Stan spoke up.

"T-thanks, Y/n," His eyes held relief, but also a hint of guilt.

A weak and broken smile was all Y/n could manage. Eddie had finally gathered enough air in his lungs to speak and he did just that, albeit quite shaken.

"It saw us." He panted. "It saw us, and it knows where we are!"

"It always did," Bill said, striding out towards the pile of bikes in the driveway. "So, let's go."

"Go?" Ben asked, dumbfounded.

Bill turned to see his friends still in the garage, rooted in place and looking at him incredulously.

"Go where?" Ben asked again, this time his voice wavering.

Bill couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Neibolt." He shot. "That's where G-G-Georgie is."

Stan angrily threw his arm back, gesturing to the remains of their previous encounter.

"After that?"

"Yeah, it's summer. We should be outside." Richie said timidly, a tone they had scarcely heard him use if at all.

Bill felt anger boil up in his chest at the words, his stutter flaring up with it as it usually did.

"I-If you say it's s-summer one more f-f-fucking time..." He snapped, and he felt the anger redirect itself.

Neibolt. He was going to Neibolt with or without his friends. He was going to get his brother. Bill shook his head, dismissing the conversation. He picked up his trusty bike and hopped on. He took off down the long driveway, leaving his friends behind.

"Bill!" Beverly called. "Wait!"

The seven friends look around at one another in disbelief, as Bill disappears around the corner on the back of Silver. He was going to face it alone, and in turn, he gave the Losers no choice less they surely lose their friend.

They had to follow him.