Notes: Have fun filling in the gaps for yourself. In the end, does it really matter what you fight about?
"Peacekeeper"
K
It wasn't often that Bill and Georgie disagreed on anything.
Oh, but when they did, watch out, world.
While arguing at home was simply not an option (per Mom's decree) all bets were off when it came to neutral ground like the Barrens, or 29 Neibolt Street.
Leery of where to approach this potential blow-up from, the rest of the Losers were treading lightly. No one asked anything direct to either boy. Even Richie was showing a rare, almost-cautious side, as long as he was dropping jokes in their presence. Where once they were inseperable, the Denbrough brothers had barely looked one another in the eye all day.
Things came to a head around five o'clock that Thursday afternoon.
"Let's go, Georgie."
"You go, Billy. I'm staying."
"No, you're not. Dad said we both n-needed to be home by six."
"So, go. I'll catch up. When I'm ready."
Bill frowned, lingering in the open, second-floor doorway, backpack held on one shoulder.
Georgie stayed where he was, sitting sprawled among his markers, coloring books, and crossword puzzles. His gaze was angled down, as if there were no other direction to look. For all his sweetness and adoration, the elementary-grade schooler could be a natural stick-in-the-mud when he wanted to be.
Right from the start, Bill could tell he wasn't going to get anywhere. Begging was out the window, let alone reasoning. He would have dragged Georgie home by his ankle if that's what it took. But that would mean enduring a verbal lashing from one or both parents, how dare he be so rough with the precious baby.
For Bill, the verbal beatings were just as bad as the physical.
"BilLy?"
Suddenly, he smelled mints and popcorn, oppressively close. Despite the abrupt, impossible change in the air, Bill didn't so do much as blink. His frown only morphed into a scowl. No doubt the creature now looming over him had sensed the tension when the boys had arrived, two hours prior. Beyond that, he had probably been sensing it the last three days.
For that was a new record in how long Bill and Georgie had been feuding in silence.
"You talk to him."
The red bells on Pennywise's suit gave a short, almost-embarrassed twinkle as the high school freshman shouldered his way past him, headed for the stairs. Befuddled, the slack-faced demon craned his neck around almost one-hundred eighty degrees to watch - again, something no normal human could do (and survive).
Bill wasn't a bluffer. Did that mean he really intended to leave without Georgie?
Georgie continued to scribble aimlessly, not bothering in the slightest to keep the marker's tip inside the lines, even as Pennywise timidly stepped into the room, then crouched down beside him, balanced on pompommed toes, hands threaded together.
"Georgie?"
"Hi, Penny."
The clown blinked, tilting his head. It wasn't often someone else beat him to the punch with a greeting. Not so sharply.
Not to mention, for being two of the best friends either had ever had, that was the first time they had laid eyes on each other yet that day.
"Hi..." Unsure, Pennywise took a rare moment to study the boy. One eye tracked Georgie's coloring hand. The other kept itself fixed on his glowering expression. "Billy says it's time fOr you to leave."
"I don't care."
He prodded the boy's bicep with one finger. "You're gonna be late for supPer."
"'M not hungry."
A frilly arm shot out and pulled him close. Pressing an ear to the boy's head, his captor smirked, and listened. It was as though Georgie were a conduit through which he could hear an empty stomach grumbling noisily.
Perhaps all he needed was a hug?
"NoW, I can telL that's not true."
The smirk vanished as, rather than struggling, Georgie turned in the clown's grip and thrust a fist against his ruffled chest. "Go away, Penny."
Confused, Pennywise let his arm go slack, but Georgie didn't bother to crawl away, letting the limb stay draped across his shoulders like a shawl. The boy reached for the green marker he had dropped, and, still scowling, he grabbed his coloring book with the other, as though he intended to resume coloring, no matter what.
"What's wroNg?"
"Nothing."
"Don't liE to me, GeorgIe. This isN't like you."
"So?"
"So... can I heLp?"
"What do you care?" The boy sniffled, clearly fighting to keep his real emotions at bay. "You don't have a brother. You wouldn't understand."
Pennywise raised a brow. True, he didn't have an actual sibling to quarrel with, per se, but he had the next best thing in the Losers. He wasn't totally without experience as to what it was to fight with someone you loved.
Not... totally.
Gently, with a deftness that belied his size, he took Georgie by the chin, directing them to look at each other.
"Try mE."
It was starting to get dark.
Standing astride Silver's frame, Bill kept one hand on the handlebars. With the other, he held Georgie's bicycle upright. The kickstand had broken off some time ago. Together, they faced 29 Neibolt's front door like an incomplete set of lawn decorations.
Outside the fence, the remainder of the Losers waited on the Denbroughs.
Better to travel in a pack than seperately.
Stan clutched the upturned collar of his jacket, nervous eyes taking in the cloudy skies above. "It supposed to rain today?"
"Later tonight, maybe," Mike shrugged. A damp breeze stirred their surroundings, seemingly for effect. Strong winds often surged ahead of an oncoming stormfront. "That's what the radio said."
"How much longer do you think Pipsqueak'll be?" Richie mimed checking his wrist, upon which there was no watch.
"Doesn't matter. We wait until he's ready," Beverly reaffirmed. While the others watched the house, she watched the neighborhood around them. If the past eight months had taught them anything, it was that danger could come from every direction, especially the ones you thought were safe.
Perhaps that was why she was the last to notice the gangly, silver figure who appeared in the yard, directly behind Bill.
Despite how used to his sudden out-of-thin-air appearances they were, Ben gave a start, as did the rest of the gang. "Pen?"
With ears sharp as razors, It heard that from fifty feet away. His head whipped around to stare at him, at them all, with lowered brows. He did not smile, but he wasn't frowning, either. His walled eyes were still blue.
In many ways, it was the most intimidating look in the entity's arsenal.
Today, it carried an unmistakable hold-your-horses vibe.
Impulsively, the group took a collective step back.
Sans Beverly. She stood her ground.
From a distance, she couldn't hear what Bill was saying. But she saw his mouth moving, as though he were frantically trying to explain himself before the creature said anything. With his agitation, the stutter wasn't doing him any favors.
Movement from one of the upstairs windows caught her attention next. Squinting, she could just spy the set of eyes peering out from between a pair of boards.
Georgie?
Whatever argument he was relaying, Denbrough's words seemed to be falling on selectively-deaf ears.
Pennywise simply stared him down, unmoving, for nearly three minutes.
Apparently, Bill relented. Shoulders sagging, he swung his leg, over Silver's back fender, and deployed her kickstand. He leaned Georgie's bike against the old Schwinn before plodding back up the steps and into the house.
Job done, Pennywise folded his arms, and - rather than vanishing - he waited.
Gingerly, haltingly, like they were stepping onto an active minefield, the six remaining youths inched their way back into the yard. The breeze kicked up again, ruffling their hair, jackets, the legs of their pants. Slowly, they fanned out to encircle their mascot from both sides.
He kept staring upward, as still as a pond on a windless day. Not a lock or ruffle out of place.
Just as Beverly breathed in to speak-
One of the clown's gloves shot up, index finger raised in a wait gesture.
"GivE them a miNute."
Beverly blinked, mouth snapping shut. Before she could think of what to say, Richie took an experimental step onto the porch.
Striking like a viper, Pennywise snagged him by the back of the neck. "NopE, you stay."
"The heck, man?" Richie blurted out. He twisted back and forth, hands grasping blindly at the arm behind his head, fruitlessly trying to wrench free. "You gonna tell us what's going on or not?"
"I... don't think we need to know, Rich," Ben mused. Catching his eye, Mike nodded in mute agreement.
Stan and Eddie also exchanged a knowing look.
Five minutes later, without so much as a peep between them all, Georgie, followed closely by Bill, emerged from the house. Passing through their phalanx of dumbstruck friends, they wordlessly grabbed their bikes, wheeled them out to the street, and took their seats.
As Beverly leaned to one side for a better look, she saw Georgie's foot lift to set down on the bike's pedal. In the same moment, Bill's hand came to land on his little brother's shoulder. There was a mutual pause as both looked at each other, communicating better in silence than they had with words that day.
Then Bill offered a smile and tugged the sliding backpack strap higher up onto Georgie's shoulder.
Georgie smiled back. And even in the low light, his eyes glistened.
Whatever troubles they had had earlier, they were clearly resolved now.
Beverly breathed out, chancing a look up at their now-grinning guardian.
He winked.
"MuCh better."
Beverly smiled back at him, freckled cheeks flushing just slightly.
"Hurry nOw. StoRm's comin'."
Raindrops began to patter on the house's roof as the group departed.
Until Richie was the last to leave.
"...Anyone gonna tell us what that was about?"
Lingering just a moment longer, Pennywise snorted and shook his head. Being faced with the Trashmouth and his nagging persistence was the perfect period to end today on.
Now all was right with the world.
Pop.
Then Richie was alone in the yard, with only the sunflowers to question.
"Anyone...?"
The yellow flowers nodded in the rising winds, but at what, that was anyone's guess.