Hey guys! How's everyone doing today? I apologize for giving such a short chapter after such a long wait. My energy levels have been fluctuating like a goddamn roller coaster these past couple months which has unfortunately affected my motivation levels to get anything remotely productive done. But the good news is, the next chapter will come out much sooner cause I've already got it outlined and just need to write it out so you can look forward to that! Anyways, here is the immediate aftermath of the Losers group hallucination and what exactly happened to Stan. Enjoy!
Like always, I enjoy comments, in fact I thrive off of positive comments and love constructive critique ones cause it shows an author that their readers are actually paying attention and enjoying their work. Thanks for reading this story! Virtual hugs and cuddles to y'all.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except any OC's that may come up, any world building that has not yet been officially stated by any medium, and any plot points/structures that have not been used in the movies.
Warning: Attempted Suicide (if this could potentially trigger you, please skip from when it begins with 'A symphony of vicious and cutting voices whispered in his ears' and just jump straight into the next section that begins with 'The Losers stormed out of the restaurant').
Also, no beta, we die like canon cause superhero timelines are the worst.
Chapter 8: The Return of It
XXXXXX
Yesterday
40-year-old Stanley Uris diligently worked at the brilliantly carved mahogany desk placed firmly in the center of his decently sized office. There were sleek brown bookshelves placed strategically along the walls and filled with all sorts of binders, reference books, and knick-knacks a middle-aged man with two energetic kids would proudly display to his co-workers.
He paused in his typing when a notification chimed on his phone. He picked it up to check it and saw a text from his wife, Patty, that simply read 'Buenos Aires?'
He smiled and sent a thumbs up emoji in response. He placed his phone down and looked over to a framed photo where his lovely wife and two sons smiled back at him. A knock on his door interrupted his musings and he looked up to see one of his co-workers, an energetic woman named Sabrina, peeking out from behind with a grin. She stepped out once she realized she had his attention.
"Stan the man with the awesome accounting plan!" She exclaimed before grinning sheepishly at him, "You do have an awesome accounting plan for this month's project, yeah?"
"Of course I do," he nodded as he placed a hand on a small stack of papers beside him.
Sabrina pumped a fist in the air in triumph. "Awesome! You know at the rate you're going, that promotion is gonna be yours hands down."
"I don't know about that," Stan bashfully said, gesturing for her to stop, "I'm just doing what I usually do."
"Which is above and beyond awesome as usual," she firmly stated as if this brushing off of compliments was a common occurrence she was actively trying to get rid of. "Have more confidence Stan. You do good work and it's going to get rewarded. We're all rooting for you!"
He laughed as her positivity raised his spirits. "Thanks. You know, you should come by the house next weekend. Patty and the kids have been asking for you and Lee."
"I'll be sure to run it by her later," Sabrina agreed with an easy grin, "So you got any plans for the summer?"
"Patty's been wanting to do a family trip to Buenos Aires."
She whistled, impressed. "Ah man. I'm jealous. I've always wanted to travel out of the US but Lee's so busy with her catering business that we haven't been able to go anywhere since our honeymoon. Anyways, if you guys do go, make sure to take lots of pictures and not just of birds, Stan."
He laughed again. "You got it. Have a good night!"
Sabrina waved her farewells and left, leaving Stan to finish up the last of the day's work before packing up himself. He managed to beat rush hour and arrived home only to be greeted by his excitable sons tackling him for hugs. He laughed as he brought them up into his arms and carried them into the dining room where Patty greeted him with a loving kiss that the boys jokingly looked grossed out by.
Soon the loving family of four sat down for dinner where there was lively conversation and good food to be had. Afterwards, Stan congregated in the living room with his sons to finally complete a 1000 piece puzzle featuring North American birds that had been ongoing for about a month. Patty sat at the dining table nearby as she inputted the information for a flight to Buenos Aires.
"Should I just book it now? You sure you can get away from work?"
"It's summer. Why not spend some time with my family?" Stan called out in answer.
Patty resolutely clicked away and the round trip flight for four was booked. "Okay! We are officially Buenos Aires bound!"
"Buenos Aires! Buenos Aires!" The boys cheered in excitement which caused a few puzzle pieces to fall off the table.
Patty laughed. "Calm down you two. You still need to finish your last couple weeks of school."
The boys immediately switched gears to boo at the mention of school, much to their parents' amusement. Stan reached down to pick up the fallen puzzle pieces when his phone rang. He placed the pieces on the table and picked up the phone, eyeing the caller id in confusion and a faint sense of dread.
"Stanley Uris speaking," he said as he walked away to take the call in the hallway.
"It's Mike," a deep and somewhat gruff voice responded.
"I'm sorry?"
"Mike Hanlon…from Derry…"
Stan visibly stumbled as he gasped like a fish out of water. The wind was knocked out of him as a torrential wave of memories crashed against his brain like a tsunami. He blinked rapidly to try and regain his bearings.
"Mike? God! Sorry, yes. Hi! I…don't know why I didn't…ummm…How long has it been?" He managed to force out while attempting to regain his control over his ability to speak.
"A long time…27 years," Mike solemnly stated.
Stan nodded and swallowed thickly. "It's come back, hasn't it. That's why you're calling."
"Yeah, it's starting again, Stan. Bad things are happening all around and we have to stop It."
One of Stan's hands began to nervously fidget with a loose thread on his shirt. His heart pounded frantically in his chest. "Did you call the others? I mean, what if they don't come and-"
"We made a promise, Stan. Remember?" Mike interjected, "How soon can you get here?"
Stan glanced back down the hall where he saw that Patty had joined their sons in completing the puzzle. "Ummm…well I ummm…I would need to do a few things…"
"Tomorrow, Stan," Mike firmly said with no room for argument, "We don't have much time. I'll text you everything you need. I'll see you soon, Stan the man."
The phone call ended with a resolute click and Stan was left standing there numbly listening to the dial tone. He spent the rest of the night in a daze, working on auto-pilot despite the worried glances his wife gave him and her quiet questioning about the call. He didn't know what he said in response but it seemed to be enough to satisfy her for now.
He tucked his kids into bed and absentmindedly kissed Patty good night before he went to the bathroom for a bath. He watched the water steadily fill the tub, staring at it as if in a trance.
A symphony of vicious and cutting voices whispered in his ears.
'Weak. So very weak.'
'Even after 27 years, you will always be Stan the coward.'
'Never good enough, always needing to be saved.'
'Only thing you can do is drag your friends down and get them all killed.'
His head turned and his gaze landed on a nearby razor that sat inconspicuously on the sink.
'Go ahead.'
'Take it.'
'Use it.'
'Then it'll all be over.'
'It's for the better after all…if Stan the coward isn't there.'
Stan numbly listened to the voices, reaching out for the razor and slowly picking it up. He firmly pressed the blade down on one wrist and cut into it with a smooth motion. Blood began to flow from the wound, trickling down his arm in trails of red.
He walked over to the almost full tub and was about to step in when a frantic knock on the door stopped him in his tracks.
"Daddy! Ricky had an accident and mommy said we should go to you!"
Stan barely registered that it was his son, Will, speaking to him through the door.
"I'm sorry, daddy," Richard apologized in a sad little voice.
Stan blinked and suddenly he was standing at the podium in the synagogue on the day of his bar mitzvah with Richie giving him an annoyingly rowdy standing ovation for the speech he'd just given.
Then he blinked again and he was riding his bike down the street with Bill beside him as they both whooped loudly in excitement.
Another blink and he was standing in the middle of the field with the rest of the Losers beside him. He watched in a daze as Bill asked him, 'Do you swear?'
"I swear, Bill," he whispered.
One final blink and he broke out of the trance he'd fallen into. He looked down at his still bleeding wrist and panicked.
"Will! Ricky! Can you go to mommy and bring her here?" He called out as calmly as he could.
He heard Will run off and call out for Patty when his legs grew weak and he dropped to the ground. He crawled to the door, growing steadily weaker from the blood loss but he hadn't lost enough to lose consciousness yet. He clumsily grabbed a nearby towel and pressed it as firmly as he could against his wrist to try and staunch the bleeding.
There was a rush of footsteps and then Patty burst through the bathroom doors in a frantic panic. She screamed at the sight of him and all the blood on the floor.
"Oh my god! Stan!" She turned to her sons and waved them out. "Go and call 911, Will. Let them know daddy hurt himself really, really badly."
Will nodded and grabbed his brother by the hand before the two rushed off to follow their mom's instructions. Patty rushed over to Stan and took over for him in pressing the towel against his bleeding wrist.
"I'm sorry Patty. I'm sorry for being such a coward," Stan muttered deliriously.
"It's okay, Stan. Just hold on for me. Keep holding on. Help is on the way," Patty tearfully reassured him as she tried to keep herself calm and collected. Her husband needed her and damn it all, she was not going to lose her composure right now, not until he'd gotten help.
But Stan kept apologizing. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, voice growing weaker with each passing second, "I promise…I promise to tell you everything. I promise to be brave…like Bill and Richie…I swear…"
Then his eyes began to flutter as his vision grew hazier. The sound of sirens growing closer to the house and Patty's frantic cries faded as Stan finally allowed the darkness to embrace him.
XXXXXX
The Losers stormed out of the restaurant dining room with a flurry of emotions that ranged from panic over Stan's well-being and fear over their brief encounter with It's influence. Erik hovered closely over Bill, concerned over the overwhelming fear that he could feel the telepath projecting due to his lack of control from said overwhelming fear.
"This is what Pennywise does right? So fuck that, Stanley's probably fine," Eddie said in an attempt to reassure his friends but really, it was an attempt to convince himself.
"Mike, do you have Stan's number?" Bev asked as she pulled out her phone.
Mike nodded and pulled his phone out to give the number to her.
"Bill, what is going on? Who is Pennywise?" Erik softly asked as his confusion and concern grew to new levels at the conversation that just occurred.
Bill shook his head as his gaze focused on Bev as she dialed in Stan's number. "Not now, Erik. I'll tell you later."
"Hey Richie!" A childish voice called out from behind the group.
Everyone froze like deer caught in the headlights and they all turned in unison to stare wide eyed at an innocently grinning kid in a grey hoodie, red shirt, and blue jeans as if he was the next coming of the Antichrist. Erik looked at them all in surprise, quietly wondering if they'd all gone collectively insane or simply had too much to drink.
"How'd you know my name?" Richie managed to calmly ask despite the terror gripping his heart.
The kid only smirked and said, "The fun's just beginning, right?"
Upon hearing those words, the blood drained from everyone's faces at an alarming rate. They all grew terrified at the possibility that Pennywise was back to fuck with them again. Meanwhile, Erik looked to be about a few seconds away from grabbing Bill and saying their goodbyes to Derry as soon as possible.
Richie stormed over to the still grinning kid and pointed aggressively at his face in threat. "Listen. Do you think this is funny or something?"
Despite the fear threatening to consume him, Bill still had half a mind to read the kid's mind. A quick scan revealed that the kid was not tied to Pennywise in any way and was simply a fan. "Richie, wait-"
"Shut up Bill," Richie barked over his shoulder before returning his attention to the kid without missing a beat. "You think this is some sort of game?!"
"Richie! Hold on a moment," Bill tried to interject again but Richie ignored him.
"Huh?" Richie snarled as he grabbed the kid by the front of his hoodie and shook him aggressively, "Well fuck you alright?!"
"Richie!" Bill cried out irritably.
"What?!" Richie shouted, finally giving his attention to his exasperated friend.
"He's not, you know," Bill gestured vaguely, "He's just a fan."
And just like that, all of the fight drained out of Richie as he deflated like a balloon. "Oh…Uhhh…I think I might've had a bit too much to drink."
"No shit," the kid said, smacking Richie's hands off of him.
Richie turned to give the kid an award-winning smile in a sorry attempt at apology so that the kid's parents wouldn't sue him. "Do you want a picture?"
The kid looked at him, now jaded towards the prospect of ever meeting his idols. "I think I'm good. My parents told me not to go anywhere or do anything with strangers who are drunk."
"That…is good advice," Richie dumbly said, "Keep listening to your parents little man."
The kid rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever." Then he ran off.
It took a moment for the group to recover from what just occurred before they continued making their way out of the restaurant.
"Geez Richie. You don't remember the lines from your own show?" Ben asked in disapproval.
"I don't write all of my material," Richie sheepishly tried to defend himself.
"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" Eddie cried out in unnecessary triumph.
XXXXXX
The Losers hung around the parking lot of the restaurant as they anxiously awaited news on Stan's well being. Bev held her phone out with the dial tone ringing loudly on speakerphone. Bill and Ben stood near her while Erik hovered closely next to Bill.
The call connected and a soft female voice shakily responded. "H-Hello. This is Patty Uris."
"Hello Mrs. Uris. My name's Beverly Marsh," Bev said as calmly as she could, "I apologize for calling but I'm an old friend of Stan's."
Meanwhile, off to the side, Eddie and Richie teamed up and decided to confront Mike over his actions.
"You lied to us! That's not okay!" Eddie vehemently shouted as he waved his hands about in an agitated manner.
"Yeah man, the first thing outta your mouth should've been 'Hey! You wanna come back to Derry and get murdered?' Cause then we would've said no," Richie sarcastically remarked as he aggressively pointed at Mike in accusation.
"Guys, quiet down," Ben called out to them, gesturing at the phone so that they could hear what was being said.
"Ummm…he's in the hospital," Patty shakily answered before choking back on a sob, "In a coma. They don't know when he's going to wake up or if he ever will."
"What? Umm…can I ask how?" Bev hesitantly asked.
Patty tried her best to respond through her tears. "Yesterday…his wrists…in the bathtub…" She let out another sob. "Oh god. If Ricky hadn't had his accident then…"
Bev stumbled a bit in shock as a vision of how Stan died came to her mind. He was lying in a bathtub, staring out with lifeless eyes as blood dripped down from his slit wrists. She felt relieved that at least he wasn't dead but it was short lived as she looked to her friends and more visions of their gruesome deaths flashed before her eyes. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision and focus on the call.
"Who's Ricky?" She managed to ask.
"Oh! He's my son, my youngest actually, Richard or Ricky as we like to call him," Patty said, a sense of relief in her voice that the conversation was diverting elsewhere, "William, or Will, is our oldest."
"They sound like sweet boys," Bev complimented.
"Yes they are. Listen, I have to go," Patty said as the sounds of doctors and nurses talking in the background could be heard.
"We're all very sorry, Patty. Is it alright if we can visit soon?"
Patty sniffed wetly as she was overcome with emotion. "Thank you, that would be great. I don't know if I can do this all on my own."
"You won't be alone, Patty. Not if we have anything to say about it," Bev fiercely stated as a fire that had not been there when she first arrived was relit in her eyes.
"Thank you again Beverly. I have to go but thank you…"
The call ended with an abrupt click and the rest of the Losers Club was left trying to process all of the information they'd just been given as well as the memories that were still flooding back. Bev shoved her phone into her bag and took out a cigarette, lighting it with trembling hands.
"Well I guess it's nice to know that Stan named his sons after me and Big Bill," Richie awkwardly offered in an attempt to break the silence that had settled. He combed a shaky hand through his hair as he let out a loud laugh. "But damn, what a fucking way to find out."
Eddie grabbed at his head as he began to spiral into a panic. "Pennywise knew. He fucking knew before we did."
"But Stan's still alive," Mike said, looking at his friends pleadingly as he insisted, "We can still stop It. We have to stop It. And I have a plan on how we can do that."
"Well I have a plan to. Get the fuck out of dodge before it ends like one of Bill's books," Richie retorted, "Who's with me?"
Eddie raised his hand like they were still 13-year-old kids in school. Meanwhile, Ben was focusing his attention on comforting Bev and Bill was pinching the bridge of his nose in order to stave off the headache that was pounding away like a nonstop drum solo.
Erik placed a hand on his shoulder but Bill shook it off. "Not now, Erik. Please."
"We made a promise to each other," Mike tried to appeal to the others.
"Well then let's unmake the promise!" Richie exclaimed in justifiable agitation.
"Other people are gonna die if we don't do anything though," Ben said, playing the reluctant devil's advocate. Bev flinched and he immediately returned his attention to soothing her fraying nerves.
"So? Other people die every day! We don't owe this town shit," Richie loudly rebuked, "Plus I remembered that I grew up here like two hours ago so fuck this, I'm leaving."
He whirled around to point at Erik. "And if you even a lick of sanity in you, you'd better grab Bill and get the both of you the fuck outta Derry too. Before his bleeding heart rears its ugly head and gets him killed."
Then he stormed off to his car without another word.
"Sorry guys, but I'm with Richie," Eddie unapologetically apologized as he moved to follow Richie's example.
"Eddie, please," Mike wholeheartedly pleaded.
"And then what?" Eddie asked, "We stay, we die, that's it? I'm gonna go back to the inn, pack up my shit, and then drive all the way back to my home. I'm sorry, man. Good luck." Then he rushed off to his car without hesitation.
"Eddie, please! Eddie, wait!" Mike desperately called out.
Bev let out a shaky sigh and aggressively snubbed out her cigarette against the asphalt of the parking lot ground.
"You okay?" Ben asked, eyeing her in concern.
Bev stood up and adjusted her bag to sit more securely on her shoulder. "I'm gonna head back to the inn too. You coming?"
Ben nodded and pushed himself up to a standing position. "Yeah, let's go."
Erik watched as one by one, the Losers left despite how much Mike desperately pleaded for them all to stay and hear him out. He was shaken by the events of the night and the warning Richie had imparted upon him. He grabbed a pacing Bill by the shoulder so the agitated telepath would finally stop.
"Erik?" Bill asked, startled by the sudden movement as he looked at him in surprise.
"Should we head back as well?" Erik calmly asked despite every baser instinct shouting at him to grab Bill, find Moira, and then get out of town. But his somehow still intact logical sanity told him to hold on and wait even though that was possibly the worst advice ever given everything that's occurred since that god damn phone call.
Bill hesitantly nodded before he turned to eye Mike warily. "You should've told us Mike."
Mike quickly rushed over to his only remaining friend and pleaded with him with the desperation of a man at the end of his rope. "Bill, please man. I'm begging you. Please just listen to me, please."
Bill sighed and shook his head. "What're you gonna say? What could you possibly say that would make any kind of a difference?"
"Let me show you something, just one thing," Mike insisted, "And if you still wanna leave, you can leave. But please let me show you this one thing."
Bill visibly hesitated. He was torn between listening to his friend and potentially having a way to finally get rid of Pennywise for good or getting the hell out of Derry and hoping to forget everything once again. Erik placed a hand on his shoulder and he jerked in surprise, looking at his fiancée with wide eyes.
Erik smiled encouragingly. "Whatever you want to do, know that I will always stand by your decision no matter how idiotic it may be."
Bill turned to look back at Mike who was doing his best impression of a kicked puppy. "Please, Bill."
"Alright, alright! Fine!" Bill shouted, throwing up his hands in defeat, "But Erik's coming with us. I'm not going anywhere without him and while we're at it, you can be the one to explain the whole situation to him because that is a can of worms I refuse to speak about considering my memories are still a huge mess."
Mike slumped forward in relief and nodded eagerly. "Got it Bill. You won't regret this."
Bill sighed. "Whatever you say, Mike."
Then he pointed threateningly at Erik. "And you. Don't call Moira."
And scene! How'd you like what I did with Stan? Just like with Darwin's death in X-Men First Class, I felt that Stan's suicide and death was in a bit of poor taste (at least to me) plus I also wanted to give him a happy family in comparison to most of the others cause 1: his trauma wasn't too bad and 2: something something narrative and poetic about cowards. Bottom line, Stan is not dead but he's in a coma so that means he's still going to be as removed from most of the story as he was in the movie. Sorry but not really sorry guys. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you all in the next one!