Bev knew she was walking unusually slowly, as if her brain was struggling to tell each foot to take the next step, as if she was in a stupor, like she'd felt when she looked into Pennywise's one good eye and saw nothing there when she thought he was going to kill her. She had tried her hardest to ignore the gaping hole in the wound of his other eye from when Beverly had stabbed It in its eye all those years ago when she was only twelve, the first time they'd entered the Neibolt House.
That time, there had been only shock and rage at what she had done. But this time...it had been truly frightening. No emotions, no warmth. Just a vast empty coldness of nothing. She wracked her brain as she walked, trying to will her brain to forget the details when it simply wouldn't. Even eight months later, it still haunted her. As newly chilled air moved the clouds, she let her eyes rest for a moment, feeling the ambiance of the street, hearing the sounds.
The air around her was so cold, yet the trees were on fire. She smiled to herself at the inferno above her head. Ben had gone on to run an errand, though he wouldn't tell her what kind or where he was going, which raised a few red flags, though she liked to think she knew Ben more than well enough by this point.
So, she trusted him when he said he wouldn't be long and that he'd meet her at the movie theater following her appointment, where following that, he wanted to take her out for a pizza and ice cream afterwards. Bev continued her walk to the clinic and tried to ignore the stares of several interested men as they eyed her figure in her brand new wrap maxi dress, the way the wind had that special way of tousling her fiery red locks into gentle loose waves about her shoulders.
Her gait faltered when something huge and red smashed into the pavement a few feet in front of her and exploded. Bev barely avoided being splattered in watermelon gunk. Angrily, she tossed her fiery red waves over her shoulders, her hands on her hips and glanced upward, craning her neck to find herself staring at two adolescent boys, who were leaning out of an upstairs window at their apartment complex, laughing at the remains of the watermelon, and seemingly, at having almost hit the pretty redhead lady way down below.
They'd tossed the melon overboard and proceeded to shoot at it with Nerf guns, barely managing to miss the front edge of her new sandals and spattering her brand purse with watermelon junk. Though her bag could for that matter also withstand probably getting messed up with pieces of melon, she didn't want to risk it.
It was one of the few things her aunt had given her the day she and Ben arrived back to Beverly's aunt and uncle's house in Portland and her aunt had witnessed Bev near tears and about to have a nervous breakdown, and had taken her shopping as a result to calm her down after a good cup of tea. It was a small dark brown leather purse the color of an espresso coffee, different than the kind she usually carried, but cute and feminine so Bev accepted it. With all its pockets and zippers, the perfect size for Bev to replace the one she'd allowed to get ruined by tree branches in the woods of Derry, and then later her puppy had gotten hold of the rest and had promptly torn the thing to shreds. "Hey!" Bev hollered, visibly cringing as she felt her father's temper begin to swell within the pits of her stomach. "Why don't you watch where you're pointing those? Someone could really get hurt! You want to shoot each other in the streets, then why don't you head on over to Lebanon?" she snapped, her crankiness manifesting.
It always reared its ugly head whenever she was angry or afraid, which was increasingly frequent these days, Bev was ashamed to admit. The young twenty-year-old hopped over the spattered melon remains on the sidewalk, careful not to step in it. Her rose gold sandals were new and so help those kids if one shred of melon got on them and ruined them, and her roommate would be royally ticked at her and wouldn't forgive her for a long time. On any other July early evening, Bev would have smiled at the couples filling the sidewalk of the downtown plaza, where Ben had told her to meet him. She would have seen her future reflected in them, her hand being touched gently by a man who adored her and a shy smile playing on her lips. But not tonight.
Tonight, she tugged at the new dress both her roommate and the Maurice's store assistant, a cute girl named Kelly, had sworn had looked so flattering when she'd tried it on. Now, Bev wondered if Ben would think it was too much. With each tug she gave, the front went lower, and so she stopped, her face flushing in embarrassment at the few interested glances from men her age shot Bev's way. Bev let out a heavy sigh and glanced down at her new outfit, thinking it was entirely too much for a first 'official' date with Ben, but her roommate had insisted. With no time to catch the next bus to change, given she'd chosen to walk instead of taking her car, the young detective knew she was just going to have to wing it. "Ugh. This is what I get for allowing myself to be her mannequin," she sighed, glancing at her reflection in a nearby mirror of a clothing boutique's shop window.
Her new dress was an indigo floral blue maxi wrap dress with flouncy short sleeves, patterned with tiny flowers on the bodice, and a knotted tie at the waistline and a femme flowy high-low bottom hem, the very epitome of femininity, and quite honestly, the last thing Bev would have chosen to dress herself even, but even she had to admit, her roommate had good taste. The outfit looked good on her. Bev sighed again and glanced down at her feet, wiggling her toes in her new rose gold open toed sandals. She would have just preferred jeans and a nice top for a casual date to a movie and out for pizza afterward, but no, she just had to dress her up to look nice for Ben. Bev frowned. She knew better than most that Ben could care less what she wore, but Jenna refused to let her leave the store until they found the perfect outfit.
The fiery young redhead let out a heavy sigh, checking her phone for messages before plunking it back into her bag that she wore slung over her body since it was a crossbody, the one item Bev refused to let her roommate have any control over whatsoever, despite Jenna's insistence the new purse her housekeeper had picked out for her was cute. Her aunt had found it for her while out browsing the Saturday morning farmer's market to replace the one that had gotten eaten by Derry's woods and then later, her dog had gotten into the rest and had torn the thing to shreds.
It wasn't anything special, really, though Bev liked the embroidered patterned owl on the front of her new purse, and her aunt had told her owls were the symbol of wisdom, which she appreciated her efforts to make her feel better. She accepted the gift graciously, and promised to take good care of it, knowing it would take a lot more than a few unruly tree branches and wood brush or her little bulldog puppy to put a hole into her new bag. She would make sure of it, especially given it was a gift from her aunt. The dark brown color would go with most of the outfits in her closet, and with plenty of zippers and pockets for all her things, and a key-ring clip on the outside let her clip a mini hand sanitizer and mini flashlight to her bag.
Her aunt had given her a cute little blue and pink owl keychain off one of her own Sakroots bags that gave the bag a little pop of color and a feminine vibe, so that helped. Bev glanced at her reflection and sighed. Her fiery red hair had been gathered into a loose bun, allowing for a few tendrils to escape and frame her face, the bun at the base of her neck fastened together with a blue flower clip, courtesy also, of Jenna, and her makeup.
She waited on the bridge that overlooked the canal, away from the noise. Bev had been especially jumpy lately, more prone to frequent nightmares. Almost every night since their return to Portland, she dreamed of Pennywise's face. How there had been nothing there, expressionless. Faceless.
One night, she'd woken up in hysterics and it had taken her aunt and uncle both to calm her down and coax her out of her closet where she'd taken refuge, feeling confident that Pennywise had somehow tracked her down, tracked them all down, the rest of the Loser's, and was going to kill them all in their sleep.
Given that Ben was still a few minutes late, Bev decided to go for a walk, careful not to stray too far from the movie theater, heading towards the park. There was no one else in the park but an old gent who appeared to be reading a newspaper. Bev paused at the gate, the greenery was already charcoal and two dimensional and the gray path was melting into the night. She shivered.
It sure was cold; now that jacket her Uncle Greg had tried to force on her didn't seem like such a bad idea. Across the park cut ten minutes off her trip towards the movie theaters, to safety, where hopefully, Ben was waiting for her at the front of the movie theater, more if she ran.
But that man, just sitting there, how does he even see the print? She resolved to walk quickly, her rose gold sandals moving quietly over the tarmac until she stepped on a twig or dried leaf left over from the fall. She didn't want to stare but her eyes kept flicking to the man, so still, so decrepit.
Now that she was closer his attire was discernible from the darkening gloom. As she approached, she locked her gaze dead ahead, but once she reached his bench, he was gone. Bev felt a cold chill travel down her spine as his gaze, hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses, met her gaze, and she hated not being able to read the emotions in the man's eyes, given they remained hidden. She liked to be able to tell what a person might be thinking or feeling at all times. Call her paranoid, but there was no changing that little quirk about the young woman. Given her violent and abusive background, Bev didn't think anyone would blame her.
The young woman felt her fingers curl instinctively, almost protectively so over her purse. The last thing she needed right now was to get robbed in the park in the evening, which, by all accounts and purposes, would be easy enough for this man to do, she supposed, given Ben hadn't met her yet.
Beverly briefly wondered somehow if this was another of Pennywise's victims. If It had somehow found a way to follow her and Ben back to Portland...
She didn't know why that man had seemingly taken an interest in her, or what he was doing here, but the fact that he'd managed to give her the slip unnerved her. Bev swallowed past the lump forming in her throat and glanced around. No sign of him, she thought, heaving a dejected sigh. Still, she could not shake the feeling of unease and that brief shadow of doubt that pricked at her heart. Like something was wrong.
Deciding she needed a distraction, Bev sauntered over towards the old bridge that connected the park with the downtown shopping plaza. The lake-side air was pungent with the fragrance of jasmine. This was no natural basin filled with melt water, but the luxury addition to a formal garden by an earl with both copious leisure time and money. The man who had built the park's garden was something of an eccentric businessman.
On his death he bequeathed it to a charity to run for their benefit. For a small fee tourists and locals alike could escape the traffic and the frenetic movement of people. Bev stepped closer to the edge and crouched down. From six feet up the surface was an opaque green, but from just two it was clear enough to see the plants and life below the surface. She had expected the highly colored Japanese Koi Carp and she wasn't disappointed, if anything Bev was impressed.
They were huge and numerous, each about as long as her arm. Bev gazed across the wind-ruffed surface to the lily pads in bloom, their white or magenta petals catching the breeze. She inhaled slowly. Peace. Her own little piece of heaven in small-town places like this one.
It was worth it coming here many times over. Worth the annual membership fee.
She glanced around at the several hundreds of initials and poorly drawn hearts etched into the old bridge's woodwork. Dubbed the Kissing Bridge by the high school and college kids of Portland, it had a reputation. Bev furrowed her brow into a frown at some of the names. A few she recognized, but most…she didn't, and briefly, she wondered what would happen if she were to carve her and Ben's initials into the wood, a permanent addition to the bridge.
Though it was no secret in a town the size of Portland or Derry for that matter, almost everyone knew who Bev was.
And now that she had been officially dating Ben for a solid eight months, well…everyone knew who he was too. Bev continued her leisurely stroll through the bridge, almost at a snail's pace, glancing around at all the names. This was it, where her actions had led her.
For better or worse, she was here now, waiting on Ben Hanscom, who was going on around two minutes late, but then again, considering how many times she'd been late for a date with Tom in the past, she let it go. It was in this moment that she knew she loved Ben. Like really, genuinely loved him. It was a strange feeling, foreign to her, one she knew she'd never experienced with Tom, not once. They'd been dating almost nine months now, but with Ben, it felt natural. Like she didn't have to try or hide or alter any aspect of her personality. He loved all of her, exactly the way she was. She couldn't ask for anything more than that, really. Bev furrowed her brow into a light frown as she thought of Derry, Maine. She didn't want to go back to that horrible place in her mind, where bad things and memories lurked in the shadows.
But sooner or later, she'd have to go back. She was tired of running away. Bev knew that tragedies, especially shared traumas, were a finicky thing. Some bound others to a place, while others drove them away. But she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that hers and Ben's were unique, something shared for them. Just them, and them alone. Which, in its own twisted kind of way, she supposed, was kind of romantic.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes and made to turn away when a man's voice caught her from behind, a familiar voice. "Looking for these?" he asked, and Bev felt a genuine, happy smile creep onto the corners of her mouth, stretching wide into a white smile.
Beverly turned around to find herself face-to-face with Ben, who had seemingly been watching her, looking effortlessly handsome in jeans and a black and red plaid shirt, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the bridge's railing for support. "For what?" she asked, feigning innocence.
Ben smirked in that classic Hanscom way that didn't reveal his teeth. He merely gestured toward the spot where he stood. "For these…" He unfolded his arms and knelt towards the bottom of the bridge, pointing near the railing. "I took the liberty of adding our forever names. Or at least…I hope so. Take a look."
Bev knelt at his level, having to shift her purse to the other side of her body so it wasn't in her way. She inhaled a sharp breath that pained her lungs. Her ribcage, even after all this time, sometimes still screamed and ached whenever the weather would change, or when she'd have a nightmare. Her gaze slowly drifted toward where Ben was pointing. "Ben…" she whispered hoarsely. Her smile grew even wider. Etched into the wood with careful precision were their initials. B.H and B.M.
He grinned, running his hand through his dark hair and offered a sheepish smile. "I wasn't sure which uh…initial to put for you, you know, so I figured…" But his grin faltered as Bev swiped his pocketknife out of his left jeans pocket where she knew he'd always kept it safe and carved something beneath it.
"You just got one thing wrong, Hanscom," she joked, working carefully to carve her intended message into the wood, feeling very much like a vandal but then again, countless other couples before her had done this so it was fine, she guessed. She pushed aside thoughts of vandalism aside. "There," she breathed, standing and wincing at the pain in her ribcage that sent a flare up her spine. Ben was at her side, a hand around her waist before she even registered it had happened. "Now it's perfect," she replied. Ben squinted his eyes and had to kneel again, and Bev let out a little shiver of pleasure as he moved to see what she'd written underneath his handiwork as his hand trailed from her waist and wrapped around her leg. Bev smiled wryly as she heard his own sharp intake of breath as he looked at what she'd written. Underneath Ben's attempt, she had written her own. B.H. and B.H in a huge heart. She'd have a few splinters to pull out later, but they were worth it.
"Someday that'll be you and me, when we're ready for it. Few more years. I know," Bev added, before he could open his mouth to protest, "Please don't doubt my convictions, Ben. I know what I want. You," she whispered. "Just you. I have for a while now," she whispered quietly as he stood to stand next to her, seeing the stupefied expression on his face, his hand having automatically found its place at her waist. "And now that it's officially on the Kissing Bridge for the rest of time, now you have to kiss me." She smiled and folded her arms across her chest, not expecting nor anticipating that Ben would do it. Warm lips pressed against hers.
Bev's eyes widened and it took approximately one point three seconds to realize Ben was kidding her and a further three point eight seconds to realize that she's kissing him back. She didn't think he would really kiss her here, on the Kissing Bridge. But he did. Was. Her eyes fluttered shut and, in the darkness, she saw light exploding. His lips were chapped, and her bones are aching and she can taste the metallic tang of blood, having bit her tongue in surprise at the sudden movement from Ben to kiss her, but she didn't care because all she can focus on was the liquid warmth that is quickly spreading through her body.
He pulled apart first, and Bev was surprised to see a pained look in his eyes. Ben cringed. "Was I really that obvious?" he asked, sounding hurt.
"No, no," she corrected quickly, "it's just that…I might have um…overheard you talking to your roommate and your mom about it last week when I came over for dinner." She stuck out her bottom lip in a slight pout and bit it in hesitation as the smile on Ben's face faltered and he grew solemn as he looked at her. "You mad at me, Ben?"
Ben looked as though Bev had slapped her. He looked quite flustered, and the expression on his face would have been comical if the subject matter weren't so serious. "How…" he stammered, seeming to need a moment to find his words. "How could I ever be mad at you, Bev? But…" He hesitated, turning away from her and leaning his arms on the bridge's railing. "Are you…are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive. I've known for a while now, Ben, so don't worry about it. You and I know better than most. We're old souls. Besides," she grinned, hoping to ease the weight of whatever burden he was carrying on his shoulders, "we have a movie to catch, Hanscom. We don't want to be late for that, do we? You've been talking about seeing this movie for the last four weeks!" she answered immediately without even having to think on her answer. She let out a sigh and moved to stand next to him, resting her chin in her hands as her elbows supported her weight as she too leaned against the bridge rail. Ben smiled, though Bev could tell he was waiting for her to elaborate. Bev decided now was as good a time as any to speak her mind, for quiet moments like this one in their line of work were rare and kind of hard to come by.
"You asked me a while ago to try to share my feelings about you, Ben. Falling in love with you was the easy part; it's admitting to myself that it happened that's hard. I've had these defenses for so long and you didn't even notice them. I guess…they were meant for other people and you had your own door all along. I could ask why, but what's the point? You're here and I'm glad, even if I'm sometimes imagining a distance between the two of us...instead of seeing you right there."
She swallowed hard to quell the frog forming in her throat. It was rare for her to speak her mind, but Bev found that when she was around Ben, she didn't even have to try, so she said as much, hoping to ease the burden he carried on himself. "You're one of the coolest guys I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And now dating," she added, a coy little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You don't even have to try, Hanscom, it's surreal," she joked, and he smiled at that.
"I try really hard for you, actually," he confessed sheepishly, reaching up a hand and moved to brush back a lock of red hair that had fallen from her bun out of her eyes. Ben hesitated. "I just want to know…who you want to be with, Nan."
She cringed. She knew he was still thinking of Tom, even after all this time. "I'm right here where I'm standing, Ben," she murmured, feeling the heat creep to her cheeks as she blushed and glanced down at her sandals, kicking a pebble into the canal with the edge of her toe. "I'm not anywhere else. I promise…"
"We're stuck with each other, Marsh," Ben promised, pulling her close.
"Always." Bev tucked back a wisp of red hair back behind her ear and glanced up at Ben. She didn't bother hiding the smile that crept onto her face. "But…please," she begged. "When the time comes, let me help pick it out, won't you? Let me come. Or take my uncle Greg. I think he would like to help you pick. Or your dad, maybe…" She tapped her chin, playfully lost in thought, though she knew Ben was dead serious. "Ben?" she asked, noticing he was looking strangely pale.
"I sort of…already picked it out. That's where I went today for my errand," he confessed, his face reddening the more he talked about it. Bev thought it was adorable. "But I haven't bought it yet. But don't worry it's not that expensive, it's only like a hundred bucks," he stammered, noticing Bev's face flush. "It's—it's at Kay's, a—and I haven't showed it to you yet because I know it's only been eight months, but I feel like it's been longer when I...when I'm with you."
"It has," she agreed, nodding her head. She was relieved to hear that Ben felt the same way. "Why didn't you tell me, Ben?"
He shrugged his shoulders, looking surprised. "You never asked," he answered simply, to which Bev had no argument. She couldn't really argue with that logic.
Bev clung to his shirt, her fingers curling into fists around clumps of his shirt. "What's it like?" she pleaded, biting her bottom lip in a slight pout. "Did you ask Bess for advice? Do I at least get to see a picture of what it looks like?" she asked, suddenly growing suspicious at how relaxed he looked.
If she had thought Ben Hanscom was white before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now as his girlfriend prodded him for details on what he was planning. Well, daydreaming about, more like.
But...they were still so young, and he wanted to do it the proper way, which for him, meant a few more years. He wanted to wait until Bev was a little bit older, though they both knew the other was not going anywhere without the other anytime soon. But still. He knew they needed to wait.
Bev furrowed her brow into a slight, teasing frown as she bit her bottom lip in a playful pout. "C'mon, Ben,' she pleaded. "Show me? Please?" she teased. If he'd dragged her roommate along to get ideas, there's no telling what she would have picked. It was no secret among their group that her roommate's tastes were vastly different than Bev's, and for a moment, Bev found herself afraid he'd done just that.
"No way, Marsh," he answered quickly, turning away from her, seemingly embarrassed to look her in the eyes. "Not till I'm ready to ask," he joked, but just as soon as his own playful grin had emerged, it vanished to be replaced with his usual somber look. "I just…didn't want to scare you away with this, Bev. I know most would consider us way too young to start thinking about...that," he emphasized. "But...all my life I've been afraid, Nance. Afraid of people rejecting me when they find out what I do for a living, and even if they didn't, then still losing them."
Ben let out a sigh and turned back towards her to look her in the eye. "But when I was faced with the idea of losing you forever, when It...took you," he answered with some hesitancy, and even he winced as he watched Bev flinch at Pennywise's mention.
Bev said nothing, waiting for him to speak. She knew he needed to say whatever was on his mind. She nodded mutely, showing him she was listening.
Ben swallowed and continued. "It made me realize there's one thing I would regret more than anything else in this life, and that's me not telling you the truth about how I feel about you, Bev," he said, his voice growing stronger as he seemed to find his resolve. Bev drew in a breath and held it. "I can't help it. I know the odds are stacked against us and we'd be risking everything. In some ways, you could say we already are, but there's no one else I'd rather take that leap with."
"I know," she whispered, barely feeling as she painfully twisted her hands together, weaving her fingers nervously in between her knuckles. "I feel the same way, Ben." Bev sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat and she pouted, knowing her side of the argument was fruitless and he wasn't going to let her see what he had picked out for her, when the time came for him to think about asking. "I understand, Ben. But…I'd like to see it. When—when you're ready, and not a moment before," she answered, thinking that, given they'd been dating not even a full year and they were still quite young, it'd be a few more years.
Ben gave a curt nod, signaling he understood. "When the time is right," he promised her. For Ben, however, that could be tomorrow, or in the next five years.
Bev kind of hoped to date him for a few more years before they progressed to the next stage. Which, eventually, maybe this summer now that she had finally gotten the inheritance money now that she was of age, they could move in together.
She didn't want or need a whole lot of space, given how often she traveled. Maybe Ben would even move in with her in a few more months. After they'd been dating at least a year. She was insistent on that. Bev knew you could only ever truly get to know a person over time. It was when you were comfortable together and real, when you talk in that way that best friends do, that things were right. Just as she and Ben talked every single day, but it was so much more than that. She was able to relax around Ben, and somehow, she knew that whenever she was with Ben, it was all going to be okay in the end.
The young woman chanced a glance at her boyfriend out of the corner of her eyes as he wordlessly took her hand in his and steered her back towards the plaza where the movie theater and all the shops were. There was so much in Ben Hanscom's silence, so much that he wouldn't say. Bev could tell just by his expression there was a lot going on in that mind of his, but she knew better than to ask, because if she did, he would just say he was thinking of how pretty she was.
And it would be the truth. He noticed her staring and flashed her that smile that he knew and everyone else who knew the couple well enough by this point that Bev Marsh couldn't resist. Whenever he smiled at her, Bev felt safe with Ben. Protected, even if he did keep his secrets. In time, just like with everything else, she knew he would share them. Loving Ben didn't give her the right to know every single one of his pains and doubts and fears, to rummage through the wreckage of his thoughts. Some scars, and Bev knew this better than most, were invisible.
The young woman knew Ben carried his share. Without a word, she slipped her hand into his and they wound through the plaza towards the movie theater. Just the two of them, happy, connected. Together. As it should have been. Before Ben could drag them into the theater, some creature movie was playing that he'd been waiting months to see and Ben was fortunate enough that Bev also happened to be a fan of these types of movies as well and in fact encouraged such viewings, she stopped him.
"Wait," she pleaded. He paused, turning and regarding her in silence, confused. Bev reached up and traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. Bev had a strange urge to bite it, to kiss it, to say skip the movie and pizza afterward and just go somewhere and hide, just the two of them, watch the stars in the night sky in the park. His lip felt kind of chapped under her feather light touches, but Bev could not bring herself to care.
She gazed so intently at each divot of that lip, as if Ben's lip could map out ancient seas and their future life plans together and tell her everything she didn't know. And Bev found that she didn't want to look up. Because the detective knew that if she looked up, she would find herself at the mercy of questioning eyes, pleading, begging to know what the hell she was doing. Bev wasn't at liberty to say, because she simply did not know herself. The only thing she did know was that Ben Hanscom had, perhaps without meaning to in the moment, had seduced her senses and she could no longer think straight or rationally.
Beverly lifted her gaze slightly to look into Ben's eyes and just that was enough. His lips met hers gently. His lips were warm and tasted slightly of mint, he'd obviously been chewing gum earlier. Ben's hands drifted downward coming to rest and grip almost painfully tight on her waist, hers locked Ben's neck, pulling him down slightly.
When they broke apart for air, Bev rested her forehead against his and gathered some much-needed oxygen. Ben's smirk told her everything, and Bev smiled back, sinking into his hold. "Now what, Ben?" she whispered, though there was no mistaking the glint of fear that travelled through Bev's blue eyes. "What if…" she bit her bottom lip in hesitation and looked away sharply. "What if It comes back?" Her voice was barely above a whisper and hoarse as she dared to lift her chin slightly to meet her boyfriend's gaze. "What do we do then?"
"We said we'd come back," Ben answered steadily, though his own voice shook at the thought of ever having to face It again. He hoped that they'd never have to. "We swore a blood oath Bev," he sighed, glancing at his palm and at hers, overturning her hand in his own, tracing the edges of the now white, slightly jagged line of the scar from that fateful day. "And I think we will. But we're stronger, I think, when we…face these kinds of things together," Ben replied, and Bev could almost hear his voice growing stronger as they both thought of a possible reunion.
"Think we'll win?" she breathed, feeling her blue eyes go wide and round as they lingered outside the movie theater, not yet wanting to go in. Beverly swallowed nervously as she risked a glance over her shoulder.
Somewhere, she knew, probably still buried deep in the depths of those fucking nasty sewers, Pennywise had gone back to its deep slumber.
He would, at least from what she knew of the creature, be asleep for the next twenty years. Hopefully, he wouldn't wake.
Bev hoped It choked in its sleep somehow and died a horrible death.
Ben shot his girlfriend a smile and hoped to ease the weight of whatever burden he knew she carried on her shoulders. He knew that she had seen something in It's Deadlights all those years ago, something that greatly troubled her, but whatever it was, Beverly Marsh refused to say.
"As long as we're together," he grinned, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Us Loser's made a pact. We gotta stick together, don't we?"
Bev nodded, feeling a smile creep onto her face despite the pricking feeling of fear that crept its way from her heart and up into her throat.
She said nothing at first, content to just look at Ben a moment.
I'm in love with him. He never leaves my mind, he's always there. It's just incomprehensible. He's my one stable force, my one stability in a world filled with chaos and I so desperately need that in my life. I love him so much for that. It feels as though I'm in a dangerous fire, yet I'm completely safe at the same time. It feels as though someone's given me peace. It feels as though my heart is dancing around my chest; and a hole, I was never aware was there, has been filled. I feel so light, like I'm on top of the world yet my heart is constricting and it feels as if there's no oxygen in my lungs. It's strange – frightening even – how you can go from someone being a complete stranger, to then being completely infatuated by them and wondering how it ever was that you were able to live without them, because you sure as hell couldn't imagine being without them now. I know we're only young, and most people would consider me to be foolish and naïve, but it's true when I say that I love him more than I could ever love myself. He's my best friend and, as cheesy as it sounds, he's my anchor. My little bit of peace in this world.
"Together," she answered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
Bev knew that as long as she was with Ben Hanscom, somehow, everything would be okay. She let out a tiny content sigh and rested her head against his slender shoulder. "January Embers," she whispered.
"Your hair is like winter fire," he whispered in response, his voice low and slightly husky with excitement and exhilaration, reaching up a hand and absently toying with a lock of her red hair, "My heart burns there too," Ben responded, his grip on her hand tightening as he leaned down slightly to kiss her, and when he did, it obliterated every single thought. For the first time in a long time, Bev felt like her mind was locked in the present. Her usual mode of hurrying from one thing to the next was suspended. She had no wish for their kiss to end. A kiss like this, Bev knew, was a brand-new beginning for her.
A promise of so much more good things to come. For that single moment time stops. Beverly didn't care about the people around them, in fact, she didn't even notice them. It's just her and Ben. There are no children missing, no clown, no death, no suffering, just them. He placed his hand on Bev's waist and drew her closer deepening the kiss. As the two of them parted, she saw his eyes sparkle and lips curve up into a smile and Beverly couldn't help but smile back. Finally….
Finally, she was home.