You spend your day off, alternating between anxiety and relief. Anxious for any sign of Pennywise's return and relief that as time goes by that he did not. Eggy never left your sight. Using a blanket, you turned it into a makeshift sled, dragging Eggy everywhere you go, even when you used the toilet.

At any time Pennywise will drop by and frankly, you can't help but fear the very idea of him coming near you. A part of you knew that what happened last night had been an accident. He was in the grips of night-terrors and you were caught in the crossfire. But another part of you, your instincts can't help but recall that crushing of your throat and the pain as teeth sinks into your flesh.

Then, it didn't matter if it was night terrors, he had threatened you before and batted you around prior to the incident under the guise of playfulness. Just because he didn't mean to kill you, doesn't make what he did okay. If anything, nothing about the whole situation is okay. Never has been. The only major exception to this whole fucked up relationship is Eggy.

Eggy, your protector and child.

You start crying again, hugging Eggy for assurance, ignoring the fact that it was absurd you had to depend on your unborn child for safety. But what do you know what is normal anymore?

As though to calm you, Eggy hums, sending a wave of peace all over your soul. You bask in it, stroking their shell, humming back.

"Thank you, little one. I love you too." You say, kissing them softly, "We'll get through this. Together."


You return to work the next day still anxious. Pennywise didn't stop by or messaged or called you, not even once. He had done that to you before and you feel your worry easing slightly. Maybe he decided some distance is needed. Truthfully, you doubt he'd care for you that much to do so, but the time-out is something you honestly need right now.

That didn't stop you from taking Eggy to work with you. Placing them in the treasure chest in the boot of your car. You're glad your office is small with a close by parking lot. You're banking on Penny's habit on not exposing himself to the general public. And so you surround yourself with people, much to their confusion. You didn't earn the title 'loner' for no reason. Still, you were jumpy and prone to flinching at sudden sounds and moves. A few of your co-workers gave you some concerned looks but you brush them off and try to focus on work; you need a sense of normalcy.

You started feeling like yourself around lunch time and you felt confident enough to visit the nearby diner (still within walking distance of the office and Eggy) on your own. You were even smiling until you reached your desk, where you find a small vase holding a bouquet of orchids waiting for you.

It was a lovely thing, a deep shade of violet that you liked surrounded by soft brown hue and the smell is divine. Quite romantic…if not for the fact that you were the office spinster.

Confused, you turn towards your colleague.

"Hey, did someone drop this at my desk?" you ask her. She sees the vase and shakes her head, "Nope. But there's a note attached to it," she pointed out to the small envelope behind the vase. You take it, a suspicion building. Somehow, the scrawl does not surprise you at all.

Sorry. P

You drop it like it was poison. Your hands were trembling and this time your colleague noticed, "Hey, [Y/N], you all right?" she asks, placing her hand on yours, her eyes filled with concern.

"Nothing. Just, this is a mistake. It's not for me, I'll just take it to the right table," you lie and grab the vase, intent on throwing it into the rubbish bin. Your colleague gives you a look but accepts your excuses. You rush off to the closest bin, making sure no one is looking before chucking it in.

It was an extreme reaction but there's no way that gift wasn't a sick, twisted joke. Pennywise does not do 'sorry'. He just doesn't.

Yet, your hand still holds on to the note, now crushed in your palm.


It wasn't just flowers, you discovered. You went home to find your fridge stocked with wine, including the 1955 Dom Perignon he claimed to have smashed weeks ago. Not just one but two of them in fact. All accompanied by a note saying: 'Sorry. P'

You nearly poured them down the drain when you stopped yourself. Because those were some very good wine, instead you compiled the bottles and placed them in a corner before you grab your phone and start to text.

'Why are you doing this?'

Normally, Pennywise responds instantly, useful he said, to be able to type at the speed of thought, but it took nearly thirty minutes of you staring at the 'Pennywise is typing…' before he answered.

'I hurt you. Sorry, [Y/N].'

That took him thirty minutes?

'You never say 'sorry'. Is this some kind of joke?'

Another thirty minutes passed and you wonder if he was having some sort of bad reception. Except that was ridiculous; bad reception is a human problem. He's the best reception we humans could ever get. So why was he taking so long to reply?

The next message, however, surprised you: 'No joke. Can we meet up?'

What.

Why would he ask? He never asks to visit you, as far as he was concerned you ought to worship his very existence and be grateful that he bothered to drop by. Common courtesy does not apply to him as your many near heart attacks can attest.

So why ask now? Why the change? Was it, was it because of Eggy hurting him?

He's afraid of Eggy?

The snort that came from you sounded ugly. The laughter that came next was even worse.

But you can't help them; it was ridiculous! An eldritch creature who once boasted of being older than time being scared of an egg. Granted that egg is your child but you had heard enough from Pennywise to know that he is above fear, above all human emotions. Except pettiness. If he hadn't chosen his moniker, you'd say his name would have been 'Pettywise the Clown'.

'Are you afraid of Eggy?' you texted back, holding back your amusement.

This time the answer was instantaneous: 'NO, I'M NOT!'

Yeah, he's scared.

'Sure, Penny. I believe you.' And for the fact that he made you suffer anxiety alone you added a ';)' at the end.

'I AM NOT AFRAID. I AM ABOVE FEAR!'

'Really? So why were you having night terrors?'

The silence speaks volumes. When you thought he had gone, you see the 'is typing…' crawl.

'Don't be stupid [Y/N], I don't get night terrors.'

'Really? Because it looks very much like night terrors to me.'

A beat and after a moment of silence you messaged him, 'Pen, what happened? You can tell me.'

Because even after everything, deep down, beneath all that fear, you still care. That for all his inhumanity, there's a sweetness there, a dorky creature who makes you laugh even when you're down. And for all the fear you have, it won't erase that smidgen of fondness you have for him.

'I don't need to tell you anything.'

Somehow you're not surprised.

'Fine, be that way.'

'So, you forgive me?'

'No, Pen, I don't forgive you.'

'BUT I BOUGHT YOU FLOWERS! AND WINE! 1955 DOM PERIGNON!'

You marvel at his ability to italicize in WhatsApp before responding.

'It's going to take more than just flowers and wine, Pen. You nearly killed me.'

'It was an accident!'

'Really? That makes it even worse!'

'I said 'sorry'! What more do you want?'

The question makes you pause. You think for a while and you realized you had been prepared for that question long before it was asked.

'We need a break.'

The room begins to shake.

You nearly dropped your phone in shock as your house shudders and shivers like it's suffering from an earthquake. Unconsciously, you cover up Eggy, watching as your things falls and break. Then, as soon as it started the room stops and before you can comprehend just what the fuck happened, your phone vibrates again.

'ARE YOU DUMPING ME?'

Suddenly, you knew what had caused the quake.

'I said a break…' you started to type but Pennywise cuts in.

'YOU'RE DUMPING ME? ME?'

'Well- '

'NOBODY DUMPS ME! NOBODY! I OWN YOU [Y/N]! JUST BECAUSE EGGY HAS SET UP THIS BARRIER AND I CAN'T SEE OR GET TO YOU, DOESN'T MEAN I WON'T FUCKING FIND YOU! YOU BELONG TO ME! ME! YOU WILL ACCEPT MY APOLOGY AND TELL OUR CHILD TO PULL THIS BARRIER DOWN, RIGHT NOW!'

Wait, barrier? What barrier? Eggy's barrier?

What.

Oh. Oh.

And lo, it all becomes clear to you. You realized why he hadn't dropped by; he can't. Which was why he's texting you instead of popping in like some crazy robber. And why you're suddenly receiving gifts. He's not apologizing because he's sorry, he's saying sorry because for once in this whole screwed up relationship, you have the upper-hand and he does not like it.

Not one bit.

A weight is lifted of you and you find yourself feeling confident and empowered for the first time in ages.

'No.'

'WRONG ANSWER!'

'Don't text me or send me anymore gifts. You can take your 'sorry' and shove it up your ass. We're done.'

Then you block his number.


A strangled roar was heard that day in Derry. Though it was all quickly forgotten, just like the strange quake that preceded it. Ever forgetful the people of Derry. Except for one.

Mike Hanlon woke to memories long buried.

As one number closes, the other opens.