Just A Random Lil Story I Thought Of While Eating Brekkie XD. Might Be A Bit Crap, But Ill Let You Decide That. I Dunno If Im Going to Turn It Into A Big Fic Or Not. If I Get Enough Interest I Will, But Otherwise Ill Leave It As A One Shot.

I DON'T Own Stand By Me, Any Characters Or Plotlines You Recognise. Unfortunately . By the way, there's at least one quote in here directly from the film. It just stuck in my mind and seemed appropriate at the time.

CRASH! The noise of an empty whisky bottle falling to the ground from his hand awoke Teddy Duchamp from his sleep.

He looked around, and was suddenly aware of his surroundings. He was sat on the very edge of the train tracks, and that whisky bottle saved his life as he was suddenly blinded by the bright lights of an oncoming train. Teddy dragged himself up from the ground and wandered over to a nearby tree to think. He couldn't remember how he had got here, or what had happened before arriving here. The only thing he could remember was her voice. Stacey. His girlfriend. Only now, it was ex-girlfriend.

"I'm sorry", she had said, as she walked out of his life forever. No she wasn't, Teddy thought. What a stupid thing to say. If she was, she wouldn't have done it in the first place.

Somehow, through the hazy fogginess that was his heart, mind and soul, Teddy managed to walk through the surrounding trees towards town. It seemed to get smaller with each passing year. This could be something to do with the fact Teddy was getting bigger (metaphorically) and had been everywhere and done everything at least once. He had reached the point where he just didn't care about family values anymore; there was nothing to keep him here. His mother was his only excuse for sticking in Castle Rock, and with her slinking slowly into a deeper state of depression with each day, he just had to break free.

His legs carried his weary body the last few metres to the porch of the Duchamp residence. As a child, Teddy had been so proud to walk through this door. The child of a war hero. The tough one. But as time grew, so did Teddy's maturity and he knew his old beliefs were not valid in the modern world. He slunk through the door, the last effects of his alcohol-fuelled state washing over his body. Mrs Duchamp sat in the corner of the room, sewing. She didn't even notice her 19 yr old son come through the door, slamming it behind him then immediately clutching his head in regret, he was going to pay for that later.

Teddy's feet reached the bottom of the stairs, and he lifted them one by one to get to his bedroom, a room he once admired for the large size and space, but which now felt smaller and more cramped than anywhere in the world. His cold, calloused hands reached for the knob on the door of his wardrobe, and yanked it open. As he buried his arms in the clutter at the bottom of the wardrobe he sighed in frustration, not for the first time he wished he could be tidier. His fingers wound themselves around the straps of the camping rucksack he used as a teen, when he and his friends went to find the dead body of the boy Ray Brower. He pulled it from under the huge pile and didn't bat an eyelid when it knocked over, spilling the entire contents of the wardrobe onto the floor.

Teddy scrambled around the room, trying to find as many clean clothes and essentials as he could. He then shoved them carelessly into the rucksack and slung it over his shoulder, and with one last look at the room, he was gone.

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The hustle and bustle of the nearby airport was a breath of fresh air compared to the silence and boredom of Castle Rock. Despite the pushing and shoving of the ruthless crowds, Teddy felt free here. In fact, it was probably because of the ruthless crows pushing and shoving that he felt at home. Teddy had always preferred excitement and adventure to peace and quiet.

The pretty blonde woman whose name had vanished from mind stood at the desk in that powerful navy suit. Teddy liked that woman. She always gave him free coffee and was never too busy to stop for a chat. He made his way over to the ticket desk that became a portal into an alternate reality in which Teddy could live the life he wanted to. He slapped several hundred dollars onto the warm, smooth surface of the desk and asked the pretty blonde woman for a flight ASAP.

"Haven't seen you in a while Mr Duchamp" she smiled as she searched the computer for flights. "How many times, Jo, call me Teddy" Ah, that was her name. Of course it was. She looked like a Jo too – blonde hair pinned on top of her head, a few strands falling down the sides; almond shaped dark blue eyes; a cute bottom nose; clearly defined cheekbones.

"Well, ok Teddy, next possible flight to book you on is available in one hour; it'll take you to London, England. Is that ok?" Teddy smiled. England. London, to be precise. Sounded… "Perfect."

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Teddy shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The old woman sat next to him coughed loudly and muttered under her breath. Teddy glared at her, and leaned back to do some serious thinking.

He couldn't help being nervous. Of course, he had taken spontaneous flights by himself before, but not without telling anyone. His thoughts drifted to his poor mother. He knew she wouldn't notice he was even gone, but he couldn't help the guilt that washed over him. She was getting old after all, and there was no one else who could take care of her, what with his father being in Togus.

He thought about his father. He couldn't believe he used to admire that man. He was a crook – an evil, twisted crook. He wasn't a hero by any stretch of the imagination. He tried to kill his own child for Christ's sake. Teddy's hand instinctively went to his ear. Although you could no longer tell by sight it had been scarred, you could still run your fingers over the old scarring. It gave Teddy a sort of comfort, as if to prove he was safe now. He found himself touching his ear whenever he was cornered by The Cobra's.

He thought about Ace Merrill. Teddy had spent his childhood years being terrified of the town bully – he avoided him at all costs, and on the unfortunate occasion he did bump into Ace, he tried to out-bully him. It never worked. Teddy never learned. However, since the Ray Brower summer, it seemed they were equal. They had restrained themselves from natural habits of bullying/annoying each other, and forced themselves to be civil in one another's company. It had turned around so much to the point that, upon meeting in the street, Teddy and Ace would stop to talk, catch up. Teddy wondered if it was just him Ace had developed this new-found maturity with, or if he spoke to the other lads.

His mind turned to Gordie Lachance. Teddy had not spoken to Gordie, not a single word, in over five years. It was a shame. Gordie was one of the best friends Teddy ever had, but they had not been friends since they were twelve. Teddy never had any friends again like the ones he had when he was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?

Teddy thought about Chris Chambers. Chris had saved his life. Teddy had stood on those train tracks, claiming he was going to dodge the train. Looking back, however, he realised he wouldn't have. He was very pessimistic and was convinced that since nothing was going his way, nothing ever would. Teddy reckoned he would have stayed stock still had Chris not dragged him from his spot. And all he, Teddy fucking Duchamp, had done, was fight him. Teddy wished they hadn't fought so much. He missed Chris. He really did.

His mind drifted to Vern Tessio. God, what Vern would say when he found Teddy had disappeared, Teddy could only imagine. Since school, Vern had grown up enormously. Now, he was the one everyone else looked up to, rather than the other way round. Funny, really. He was a large part of the reason Teddy felt suffocated. When his mother had all her senses, she would often compare him to Vern. He hated that. There was one Teddy, one. That was all there ever would be.

Teddy felt the plane descend. They couldn't be there already, surely? It seemed only moments ago he was boarding the plane. He looked to his left and the old woman had fallen asleep. Or, at least, he hoped she was asleep. He contemplated waking her up, but figured the stewardess would do that. Teddy grabbed his hand luggage and made his way to the door. As he stepped through, he felt something soft yet heavy land on his head. He looked up. Rain. Bloody chucking it down. Bloody British weather, he chuckled to himself.

Teddy wandered through the airport, and took his first step through the revolving doors onto British soil. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of warmth rushed over him as the rain ceased. Finally, Teddy felt at home.

There We Go! Just A Nice, Random Little Fic. Like It? Hate It? Tell Me In A Review XD xoxo