Notes: Because this idea won't leave me be until I do something with it. Consider it an alternative epilogue to my ITerations AU.

Hold your disbelief, please. This is not your typical postnatal visit. If I make any childbirth procedural errors, forgive me, or just call it artistic license. I may be female, but I'm not too versed in that area.

Part 1 of 2(?).

Leave some feedback if you'd like to see part two. This is one I'm content to leave standalone if not.

"Wake Up Call"

K

Beverly Hanscom never knew true exhaustion before today. And while aglow with every euphoric emotion under the sun, eventually, her body decided it had had enough. Somewhere around four AM, things took a reversing turn. Her sapped, depleted form practically commanded her brain to switch off. It was as much for her, as it was for everyone's, own good.

Stupid body didn't know what it was talking about, as usual.

Still, she fell asleep smiling.

It's over. You did it.

Now, for the love of God, woman, let go of my hand.

Or that's what Richie would have said, were he the one to have had the 'misfortune' of staying by her side throughout all those grueling sixteen hours of labor. Or the twelve hours since.

Imagining a horror-faced Tozier playing the reluctant midwife had given Beverly reason to laugh, even as Ben smiled tearfully down at her and leaned in for a celebratory kiss. He was as much a man of few words as he had been in the almost thirty years they had known each other. If her husband of the past two months had endured any broken fingers on her account, he had done so without complaint.

Where was he now?

Following only a quick catnap, Ben had stepped out to make the many texts and calls necessary to summon the rest of their visiting circle of friends to the hospital. As much as Beverly had wished they could all be present at the big moment, she had taken the practical route.

Between them and the medical staff, that would have been one cramped delivery room.

And there was every possibility that one or more of them would've fainted (although none of them would have been man enough to admit it... no scratch that; Stan already admitted to "a very brief episode of lightheadedness" while welcoming his firstborn).

More reasons to keep smiling, Beverly decided. She would take every one she could get.

My, my, a bit greedy, aren't we?

Please. Greediness may have been a synonym, and not a symptom, of pregnancy. Never in the last six months could she remember feeling at once so excited, terrified, and anxious before, every minute of every day. Those feelings started at sunup and stayed with her until laying her head back down on her pillow the following evening.

Oh, who was she kidding? She felt that way in her sleep, too.

Even the late September weather was unseasonably warm. As of 2016, Derry General was still, by no means, a state-of-the-art hospital. But the walls were just barely insulated enough to withstand the harsh winters. The downside was, in the autumn, the heat bled out of them like a sieve. Warmth from outside was a welcome buffer, meaning the old basement boilers that struggled to keep the place warm could rest easy, not run full tilt.

One of these days, something was gonna give down there.

Beverly half-rose from sleep's spell at the thought, scoffing gently against the pillow she had buried her face into. No. She was too tired to laugh, not even at the morbid thought of the hospital going up in flames.

Well, at least the county would get a new one out of the deal.

Just as well, if it was going to happen (perish the thought), she and her family would be far away.

"Hmm..."

Beverly swore she could feel her ear prick up in the milisecond before her eyes popped open. She gripped the covers to her chest, stifling any impulsive gasp, holding the edge to her mouth.

Instantly, her blood ran cold.

"No, not... too far awAy, I hope..."

Never mind what that voice was saying.

Someone.

There was someone in the room with her.

Wait.

What was that...

Beverly frowned, eyes swiveling to peer back over her shoulder, squinting in newfound confusion. The lights were turned down, save for the lamp beside her bed. While she had appreciated that upon lying down, now it was an unwelcome obstacle.

Besides the sound, there was a new... smell. Something altogether different from the burn of antiseptics and their generally-dust-free-surroundings. To her hypersensitized nose, it was a cold, refreshing scent. Almost like...

No.

No, that can't be.

Ben and I, we timed this on a whim. Mike stayed behind, called us all back two weeks before today. Just in case... in case...

No, what were we thinking? That couldn't have happened.

It'd be too good to be true.

Beverly blinked, eyes shifting back and forth. Her frown eased, as she finally realized what it was she was smelling.

Mints.

And whose voice it was she was hearing.

Someone's she thought, more than once, she would never hear again.

It... can't be.

"Oh, buT it caaan."

Then the same voice pounced, as only a sound that rapidly changes places could.

It was on top of her, soft and pitchy and sing-songy, practically purring, right into her ear.

"Hiya, Bevs."

She twisted her head around to look.

Just like that, her blood went from ice cold to molten hot. Whatever lingering aches and pains her overtaxed body felt went away in that instant. The sight that greeted her, hovering over her shoulder, reduced her already-shallow breath to a skeletal whisper, and only that kept her from screaming in delight.

You!

Eyes shining bright in the dark, Pennywise smiled down at her.

He hadn't aged a day.

"Yeah, me, reme- ow! H-hey, eaSy!"

No. She didn't remember actually tackling him, exactly, much less how, with her ungainly body normally in no way capable of such a feat. Somehow, it ended with her sprawled across his chest, both of them half-dangling off the end of the bed.

Beverly didn't know how they managed to change positions so quick, or if it had taken very long at all. Only bare adrenaline combined with sheer, unbridled glee could have moved her.

But she didn't care.

"Oh, hey, r-realLy, settl- ow, that huRts."

"You idiot!"

Muffled against the silver satin, it came out sounding more like Moh-midit!

"Ha!" Pennywise choked out a laugh. It was all he could utter, at first. Her arms were fastened so tight around his neck, a choked voice was better than none at all. Nevertheless, she imagined the smile never left his face. "Now- the-theRe's a fine way to say helLo."

Beverly could only sniff and shake her head, face burying itself deep into his collar again. The folds both soaked up and smeared her tears. In less than a minute she was laughing, crying, wanting to scream all over again.

Blasted Fate.

Hadn't she done enough of that for one day?

The arm tightly folded across her back lifted. Fruitlessly, the hand it ended in tried to pry her off.

Fat chance.

"Shhh! You're- whoa, stop- you're gonna waKe- Bevs, I'm hapPy to see you, too. But- can I- I get my balanCe back? First? Please?"

Eventually, Beverly got ahold of herself long enough to pull back, to take in his wincing, concerned expression. With great reluctance, she glanced down.

His right arm stayed fastened around her back. His left was stretched to its limit, fingers splayed, stilted upon the floor. Somehow, it hadn't folded under their combined weight.

It was starting to tremble, though. Keeping them both from taking a rough tumble off onto the unyielding linolieum would do that.

"You idiot," she repeated, although this adonishment was directed more at herself. Amazing that she had somehow managed to almost tackle him clean off the bed at all. But it certainly wasn't the smartest split-second decision she had ever made.

Among others.

Shoving those two forboding words to the back of her head, Beverly finally thought to sit up, to turn aside.

In the same instant, her eldritch visitor pushed off the floor. Smoothly as though he had performed the act a thousand times he rose up. Then he rolled the opposite way, drawing up to perch easily on his heels at the very foot of the mattress.

Gasping, still unable to totally believe her watery eyes, Beverly didn't wait for an invitation.

She dove in for another hug, one that wasn't so percarious for either of them to hold. He almost toppled over, before recovering with a laugh, long arms wrapping flush around her back. Their heads rested against one another, his chin pressed against her cheekbone.

He practically purred in contentment.

"Therrre, that's moRe like it."

And for a time, who cared how long, they just stayed frozen that way.

Beverly kept holding on.

Her tear ducts ran dry.

With that came the next inevitable step.

She didn't know what to say first.

After all, what do you ask first of the fantastic, terrifying, cosmic-outcast creature you last saw twenty-seven years ago? Especially one who said that, against all odds, you wouldn't remember him, should you ever find yourself back in your podunk little hometown around the same time he woke again.

There was no right way to go about that.

Or wrong.

Was there?

"Where- where have you been?"

Not that.

And Pennywise certainly called her out on it, once he was done laughing.

Snickering into his glove, that is. Full-blown, almost-demonic laughter would have drawn far too many curious ears from down the hall.

"Where? Hah heh. Heh. Wh-wheRe do you think, Bevs?"

She blinked. "You- yes, but- how- "

Fidgeting, she made to stand up. To go where, to do what, she didn't know.

Gently, her visitor kept hold of her shoulders, keeping her from moving too far.

"Hey, easy. That's enough- gymnasticS for one night."

Stilling immediately, Beverly couldn't help a surprised stammer.

"Gymnast- you still- "

You still remember.

"Yes, all thoSe hours with Ben at the libraRy? Still stored up heRe." The entity tapped his temple. His painted mouth twisted, like he couldn't decide between broadcasting disgust or pride. "For beTter or... worse?"

Like me. I remembered.

You said- we wouldn't-

Oh, what does it matter?

I do! So will the others!

"You big oaf," she chastized, unable to pour any real ire into the words. "You said we wouldn't."

"Wouldn't wHat?"

And he's still doing the parrot act.

She scoffed and grabbed hold of him again, nuzzling close, despite how she was beginning to babble like an excited ten-year-old.

"Remember, dummy. You said we wouldn't. But Mike- he stayed. He and Georgie kept track. And the rest of us- We did! We all remembered!"

A finger on her lips quieted her instantly.

"Shhhh. SetTle down, Miss Marsh. You're gonna maKe a scene."

Beverly snorted, unable to not see a mental image of Robert Gray, almost tripping over six-year-old Georgie Denbrough as they tried to cross the threshold of the house on Neibolt Street.

...always had a weakness for causing a scene...

That's your job, right?

She drew back. "Heh. Makes two of us, Dingbat."

Lip jutting out, he pretended to pout and flicked her nose.

Ting.

"Again wiTh the nicknames?"

Beverly couldn't help grinning foolishly.

Never mind his dour expression. The tone, the way he said it.

That was a challenge. She could tell.

Remember those, too?

"Ding-Dong. Spooky. Putz. Dolly. Jingles. We never ran out, Stripes."

Said markings flexed as he grinned again, blue eyes smiling to match.

"That you didn'T."

Then, all too suddenly, the smile abruptly fell away.

Even if he was just concerned, Beverly was sad to see it vanish.

"You, on the other hand, you neEd to rest. Now."

"But- "

"Uh uh! No buts." He started fussing, plucking strands of bedraggled scarlet hair from her face, looping them back behind her head. "If any of them heaR what you did- "

"What? The pouncing act?" Beverly surmised, hands in her lap. She sighed, not unhappily, to think of how her friends would react to all the news to come, good and bad. "No. They wouldn't believe it."

At that Pennywise paused, frowning, hand poised with a lock of hair. "Pft. I almost don't belieVe it, and I was the victim."

The most willing victim there ever was, from the sound of it.

Beverly couldn't deny that. Despite her words, she didn't have it in her to deny anything right now.

She could only laugh, reaching up to kiss him soundly on the cheek.

Just like last time.

Only under a-billion-times-happier circumstances.

Speaking of which...

"That's okay. I'll be your witness. And if that's not good enough, there is... someone else we can ask."

Ask? He's not even a day old.

How he's slept through all of this-

The wide-eyed, high-browed expression on Pennywise's face seemed to point out all of these things at once. Then, with a single jerking turn, his head rotated around, to stare at the covered bassinet across the room.

Beverly snickered softly through her nose, pushing her mussed bangs out of her eyes.

You dolt.

You had to know this was coming.

Mind made up, she gently slapped his arm to get his attention back. "You dummy, help me up. I'll introduce you."