"Maybe we should call the police."

Richie knew the voice, he'd heard it many times over the years. It was the voice of his friend Stan's mom. She was kind, but strict, and she always seemed to care for Richie.

Whatever Richie was laying on was soft, very unlike the street he was on sometime before.

Oh God, Richie thought, IT got me.

This thought caused him to sit up in a panic, his eyes shot open and surveyed his surroundings. He was laying on the Uris' neat couch, in their neat living room, in their neat house. Everything in Stan's house was neat, but in a warm way. The warm way a home should feel. It was so unlike his own.

"Woah there buddy. Take it easy." That was Mr. Uris, he put a steadying hand on Richie's thin shoulder. Stan stood not too far behind him, concern displayed openly on his face.

Mrs. Uris took a step forward from her position at the end of the couch. "Sweetheart, what happened? How are you feeling?"

Richie thought for a moment, trying to get past the truth of what really happened. What did happen? He couldn't make sense of it. All he knew was that he looked into some lights, got some weird feelings, and then passed out.

After a moment of consideration, Richie came up with the first thing that at least sort of made sense. "I think I might've sleepwalked, I've been doing that lately." He laughed lightly, he felt shaky but knew his laugh was strong. He'd been perfecting it over the years. "But I feel right as rain, Mrs. U."

Mr. and Mrs. Uris shared a look, not quite believing Richie but accepting his answer nonetheless. "I tried to get in touch with your parents, but the phone kept on going to voicemail." Mr. Uris said, looking to Richie for an explanation.

"Oh yeah, they're not home." A look of concern flashed on their faces. "They'll be back Monday, looks like until then I'm the man of the house. Oh, I should totally start a party. You're all invited of course." Richie smiled brightly, trying his best to lighten up the situation.

Mrs. Uris gave Richie a small smile, though Richie could tell it was just for his benefit. "Very funny young man." She glanced at her husband, a sort of understanding passing between them. "I think it makes sense for you to just stay here the rest of the night. It's very late."

Richie nodded his head. "Yes ma'am." He talked in one of his many voices, this one had a slight english accent. He topped the act off with a passionate salute.

"Come on Richie, you can sleep in my room." Stan nodded towards the stairs, indicating for Richie to follow.

The stairs creaked underneath his feet, somehow causing him to think of the tune the clown had danced to. It was stuck in his head for some reason, and he found he didn't mind. It was actually kind of catchy.

Once they reached his room, Stan shut the door and turned to Richie. "What really happened?" He glanced around, like something might jump out of the shadows. In his defense, something could. "Was it…" Stan swallowed nervously. "Was it….IT"

Richie plopped on Stan's bed, telling the events of the night. He told the story as if it were a great legend, and he even exaggerated how brave he was. Stating that he'd fought off IT like a knight, but he eventually got to the part that scared him the most. And he couldn't bring himself to act as if it were a game.

"IT got me Stan." Richie whispered when he was done, looking down at his hands that wouldn't stop moving. They kept tapping the bed, or picking at his sleeve.

Richie would've laughed at the look on Stan's face if the situation weren't so serious.

"No, IT didn't get you." Richie was surprised at how determined Stan sounded, even when stating things he knew for a fact, Stan always sounded a bit unsure. "IT didn't get you because you're right here, with me."

They sat in silence for a moment before Richie said, "You know we have to get back with the others, right? We're idiots to be separated."

Stan sighed and sat next to Richie on his bed. The blanket was old and torn, but obviously loved. "I knew that all along, doofus." A small smile played at Stan's face.

Richie couldn't help what he replied with next. "Well, if I'm a doofus, you're a loser."

Stan rolled his eyes before grabbing his shoulder. "Don't be an idiot, we're all losers."