A/N: I've actually finished a few chapters for this fic already :3 So there will be 8 parts. I hope you enjoy, and please R&R!
Georgie rolled around, squirming in his spot beneath the moth-eaten covers. The child stubbornly refused to use his limbs as he unfurled from the pileup of quilts and bodies keeping him in his stuff, cushy prison. There were arms enough around for Georgie to push as he rocked from side to side on his back until air hit his face like a splash of cool water in a humid summer morning.
He breathed harshly, gulping in the fetid air of his dim room and turning to look at who'd caged him in his comfy prison. Georgie caught sight of Beverly's freckled arm encircling his shoulders, and the shine of her red, red hair billowing from the air she inhaled and exhaled deeply in her sleep.
On Georgie's opposing side, Ben had his plentiful face mashed against the side of their blanket mountain while he rested his chin atop Georgie's head and unconsciously squished the tinier boy between himself and their only sister.
The others were nearby, with Eddie and Stan coiled together just a few sheets and covers away from the trio that Georgie was part of. Stan dwarfed the other boy, who was only a mite or two bigger than Georgie himself (but older, so he still had sway over Georgie's behavior). And sure enough, when the youngest in the clutch looked up, he was met with the sight of Richie dangling halfway from within blanket mountain. The clumsy boy was sprawled within a dozen or so quilts and festooned in gaudy fabrics stolen over the years, and it was a wonder how he'd survived the night after being buried alive like that.
Had it still been a cold and stormy like the flash flood the night before, Georgie might've remained sunken with the rest of them, but he protested unappreciatively when their sleep-heavy bodies held him down in his personal burrow. Georgie realized with an unhappy huff that he'd need to get out with effort; he was awake – therefore everyone else needed to be awake straightaway as well. Although, as the baby of the group fought to get out, scraping and scratching without thought, Georgie simultaneously searching for the one that needed to be awake 'the most'.
It wasn't hard to find him, as instinct and predictability were on Georgie's side when his eyes darted straight toward the only source of light in the room.
Bill had fallen asleep a dark silhouette against the cellular arched window, where the yellow light of dawn bled through, once again.
Georgie kept his eyes on his older brother, even as he relished freedom from Beverly's vice-like hold. He wasted no more time after, while he crawled on all fours and got close to nose at the older boy's hair and around his neck until he got Bill to stir.
His older brother groaned while Georgie could see the sweat gleaming from his forehead and the light circles underneath his eyes. Bill stared wordlessly at the other boy for the longest time, unable to process the image before him.
Finally, he yawned. "Georgie…"
Georgie grunted at the call of his own name and held his arms up. Obediently, Bill enveloped his little brother with a hug and patted his back, still yawning while he strained to stay awake. Bill was unusually tired that morning, perhaps due to being one of the last of the children to be herded into 29 Neibolt House yesterday. The decision brought aches and pains to the preteen's bones, but he took his role as the responsible one very seriously and wouldn't have left Georgie out to dance in rain puddles until who knows when.
Said little boy beat a feeble fist against Bill's chest to get his attention and squeaked, sounding very much like the rats that lived below them. Bill hummed low in his throat in question, but knew what was bothering the little boy by the diminishing flush in Georgie's cheeks and the dull glaze over his dark eyes.
"P-p-p-p-p," Georgie spelled it out with the smack of his lips, placed close to Bill's ear as if he were sharing a secret. "P-p-pop? Pop, pop?"
Bill moaned, lifting a hand and stretched his fingers up over the light blazing behind the window shade. He was torn between wanting to stay where it was warm and where he could doze for another hour or two, but his stomach had other plans. A watery growl arose from the pit of Bill's tummy, as though the mere imitation of snapping bones and cartilage – was enough motivation to change his mind.
Ostensibly, it was.
Bill teased his little brother by nipping at his nose, and he earned a peel of laughter from Georgie before he was nodding toward Mike, who slept nearest to Bill's chosen spot often. The other boy, closest to Bill in terms of brokered responsibility, was slumped against Georgie's old crib, which creaked and groaned in protest with the slightest weight upon it.
Bill grunted for emphasis, and Georgie nodded vigorously before padding over to Mike to wake him next. Bill laughed loudly when his kid brother flopped over on Mike's unconscious head and startled him upright.
Georgie was bouncing with joy. "Pop! Pop! Pop!"
The pipe-lands beneath 29 House were cavernously large, well-suited to house the echo of their footsteps as the entire group navigated through them. The oblong, person-sized tunnels provided them with a steady susurration of flowing water, as well as thumps and thuds of indiscernible objects traveling parallel to their ragtag group. Funnily enough, none of the children had ever explored the entirety of Derry's sewer system, although their father had taken them to various passageways in the past. Bill had a good head for remembering where one pipe connected to another, but neither he nor Ben nor Stan could've known for sure where every which way would lead them.
Without Pennywise, they were always going to be a mite too directionless. Or so it would seem.
Mike led the way while Bill took up the back to keep stragglers (namely Georgie and Richie, and at times Ben) from getting lost. Today it was Richie who got held up more than once. The boy, tangential to Bill in age, was almost a clone of their youngest sibling when he meant to make mischief. Unfortunately, he'd found a great source for in it in the form of a set of markers that had appeared along the street of Neibolt yesterday, and Richie had taken to drawing all that his heart desired over every surface in sight.
Bill had to continuously push his brother by the shoulders just to keep Richie moving, while he saw fit to scribble angry faces and string nonsensical words all along the sewer line.
"Move!" Bill groaned for what had to be the eighth time. "Move! Go! Richie!"
The boy turned a quarter of the way in the right direction to face Bill and hissed loudly. He swiped his blunt nails through the air, but being unable to see Bill, Richie couldn't touch him. It was more annoying than it was threatening.
Bill sighed with irritation and moved ahead of Richie as though he were going to leave him there. At the last moment, the unofficial leader of the group snatched the partially-blind boy behind him and began dragging Richie, kicking and shrieking, through the rest of the tunnel entrance.
"No! No!" He'd growled, trying to wrestle away from Bill like a stubborn mule. By the time they'd reached the more colorful but shedding trailer that marked the grander level of their home beneath home, Richie had given up the fight.
He, like everyone, immediately encircled the familiar car where they knew it was warm and fiery inside. This was the first place to check whenever they came down into the sewer, courtesy of the well that sat beneath their aboveground home, and didn't spot their guardian right away. Pennywise rarely made it easy for them, if he ever did at all – though the children had been marked as precious and infinite long ago, their reflexive surprise and fear was still invigorating for the alien.
"Pen?" Eddie called first, high voice echoing along with the drip, drip, drip of water nearby. Everyone could see much better when daylight came flooding from the tower above them and the tower of toys leading up to it.
Ben stopped in his sluggish, still sleep-ridden movements to eye a boy that floated in the ether. The unlucky child looked fresh compared to the others that rotted above as they rotated in the air, and without thinking, Ben began to salivate at the sight. He tripped and skidded in grey water for not paying attention, and Ben pouted when none of the rest of them shared in his discovery. Eventually, Ben let it go – the new kid was too far up to reach anyway.
And hopefully, Pennywise would come and take them out to eat soon.
"Pen! Pen!" Georgie jumped in the water, but was saved from tripping himself by Stan lifting him onto high ground. "Pop! Pen? Pen!"
His enthusiasm was met with silence, that which made Georgie's face redden and screw up with impatience. He was a spoiled child, certainly, but Bill let the little boy build up steam as he, instead, surveyed the dark corners in the tank holding them. It was best to just let Georgie go on and cry or throw a fit if he didn't get his way. At least the runt of their litter tired quickly when that happened.
The others had called again, one by one. Bill threw his hat into the ring when they'd yielded no results.
"Pen?" His voice was stronger than the others, aside from perhaps Richie or Bev. Bill's vocals, his tongue and teeth, knew how to shape English words well given his experience aboveground that departed from their other siblings.
At times, Bill wished that that was the only part of his past that he could remember. "P-Pen? Peh -"
The ruddy and smudged leader gasped as fingers eclipsed the barrier from invisible to visible. Bright white gloves struck from the shadows nearby and closed around Bill's wrist as he stumbled back from the telltale jingle of bells and swish of satin stretching over muscle and tightly-seamed white skin.
Bill darted away unthinkingly, succumbing to fear mode even as his brain connected the hand to the rest of the figure outshining every bit of darkness among them. High-pitched cries of alarm and delight abounded just as Bill fell onto his rear, panting harshly after that brief panic had relinquished its hold on his senses.
Bill blinked rapidly, before he saw the vision that had gotten a jump on him while he'd been distracted.
In front of him, the gangly clown stood primly, legs crossed and arms twined together in what looked like an uncomfortable pose. And just as soon as they'd seen him, the sneering Pennywise, without preamble, toppled over to his side, limbs and all sprawling along with him until he'd collapsed and lay still as death on the damp sewer floor.
Pennywise's audience were stunned into silence as well as stillness, or at least you could assume as much. All but Georgie, who'd already been skipping ahead to get to the massive figure. His eyes had been alight with excitement the moment that Pennywise had come into view, but turned from bright galaxies to worried husks of which as he approached.
Georgie curled up in the nook between Pennywise's two lifeless arms, and laid his diminutive hands against the red and white cheeks of his guardian. He prodded at the faux flesh of the clown's face, poking around his nose and oversized forehead with a concerned look. Georgie was still so young, and it often took him a moment to accept behaviors which contradicted each other. The little boy knew that his father never slept, not ever – and that memory overruled Pennywise's nature to provoke and spook.
Georgie bemoaned the prolonged silence, crying like a frightened fox cub before the gentle sound of bells shaking beneath Pennywise's body grew audible. Only Bill started where he stood when the clown's body snapped back to life, and his gangly arms wrapped around Georgie and pulled him in like a boa constrictor ensnared its prey. And like clockwork, the little boy was all smiles and laughter again, bracing himself against the grinning alien's shoulders to get a better look at that painted face and assure himself that Pennywise was, in fact, alright.
The rest of the boy's siblings clumped together and scuttled forward to surround the duo not a moment later. Pennywise was patient as he welcomed them, one and all, with open arms. Instantly, Eddie was digging into the monster's side, grappling at the silk and satin suit that never failed like a barnacle scabbing over a whale's belly. On the other side, Mike took to tickling Georgie's sides so that the smaller boy would let up before he was lifted onto Mike's lap. They settled that way, as Mike leaned against the clown and soaked up the familiar presence, with Pennywise keep him secure with one arm that had been latched onto by Ben. Stan hovered nearby, his hand firmly grasping their father's while he sat on one of the old, moldy rocking chairs that lie down in the cistern.
And Richie and Bill both rested over the clown's free shoulder and against his raised hair respectively, with Richie needing to be helped over the slump of concrete that separated sewer water from walkway. His sight was usually questionable at best, but the boy made do with the instinctive help from his siblings and their father on nearly every occasion, especially where it was dark and easy to fall.
Beverly was one of the last to come, to wind her arms around the clown's neck and hold onto him tightly. His attempt to return the embrace was met with laughter, as the rest of the children cling to his arms were dragged forward and back like ragdolls.
The brood stayed close, even after their ritual greeting. It was never going to be easy, to be far away from their guardian and in a completely different plane of existence, as Pennywise liked to call it. Bill come to rely on the one that he and his siblings referred to as 'Pen', and had all but escaped the terror that his former life had been. Yet, dreamlands were an entirely different territory that their parent could offer no help in overcoming, and it surmounted the layers of dirt and decay that existed to physically drive them apart from each other when each night arrived.
"Sleep?" Pennywise enquired, shifting eyes focused on Mike.
Without looking, the pale creature stroked the errant curls from over Ben's eyes and in the same motion straightened the worn shirt clinging around Eddie's thin chest. He lingered where Ed's heart was and felt its strong pulse beneath the weak ribcage with some satisfaction. They'd gone several weeks without Eddie's heart or lungs giving out from excitement, mainly due to the anticipation of hunting around the Barrens and the quarry. They were a field in and of themselves, brimming with a mass of families taking their summer vacations in stride. It was excitable for most all of children, as well as Pennywise itself, but Eddie didn't adapt to it quite as well as his siblings did.
Mike, in the meantime nodded. "Mmhmm!"
He murmured an affirmative that there hadn't been incidents and that everyone had managed to go to bed when they were supposed to. It wasn't the truth, not when one counted the fact that Stan had tried to mimic of the hooting of a Great Owl for a whole hour and that Beverly had teased Eddie by chasing him around the kitchen and up the stairs. Last night, Georgie, grumpy from being kept in by the rain, had bit at everyone's fingers and elbows at one point or another, and Richie had drawn all over the bathroom wall with his markers – but if Pennywise didn't know that now, he was never going to.
"Goody, good, good."
The clown placed a hand behind Mike's neck and bowed his head forward. Pennywise touched the boy's curls with his nose, prodding at the bedhead that the kid was sporting impishly. He snuffled noisily, pretending to gobble him up as though he were just any old child and not one that belonged to the cosmic entity. A swell of affection, still as novel as it'd been when the clown had stolen Mike away, weaved its magic in the alien, energizing him as rainfall might with almost dead flora. The surge of it grew powerful when Mike backed away, laughing and squeaking like a little child.
On Mike's lap, Georgie sought attention again by forgoing his prior nuzzling phase and looking up at Pennywise brightly. Beverly yawned loudly from her seat on Pen's knees, and it started a chain reaction that the clown indulged in. He yawned with the rest of them, baring a dozen rows of razor teeth, and it prompted the youngest child to flash his own pearly teeth.
Georgie pried his lips open and snarled as much as he could, practicing a scary face that could never hope to match Pennywise's own, whether their father was being lackadaisical or threatening. Georgie didn't think about it, for the child had never known a time when his parent wouldn't encourage this kind of behavior, and he only wanted to play.
Pennywise rewarded said playfulness with a simpering smile of jagged ivories.
"HuNgRY?"
The little boy seemed to remember himself at the sudden question, and stared into the veins of orange and yellow that scarred the insides of Pennywise's blue irises.
Georgie stuck his lower lip out while his dark eyes swallowed up the rest of his face as he pleaded with the clown. He was reminded of the empty gut he'd been sporting since that morning quickly. "Pop, pop?"
Pennywise rumbled, bringing Georgie closer and into the hollow of his broad chest, and grinned. "Yes, yes. Pop! Pop! Pop!"
The horror looked around with its unaligned eyes, and observed the ready sea of grinning teeth and exuberant, ruddy faces with an approving purr.