Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. I'm trying to steer this back to the cracky side I NEED FUNNEH okay.
You weren't sure if you're dreaming at the moment. A nagging voice is pinching you from all over and your instincts are declaring enemies everywhere.
And you would have heeded them, except…
Chocolates, from the kisses to gigantic slabs, arranged neatly in silver platters or piled like an obscenely delicious mountain of sugar loot.
Then there's the wines, of all colours and brands. Topped, best of all, by Dom FUCKING Perignon, no younger than ten years, all of them chilled to perfection.
If you were in an anime, your eyes would be saucer-sized, sparkling with bliss and joy! And why not? You had been very upset (cause yay depression!) and now you're surrounded by anti-depressants (not endorsed by any professional psychiatric healthcare) and you were going to gorge and GORGE until you either get shit-faced drunk or slip into a sugar coma.
Or get shit-faced comatose sugar coma!
You giggle devilishly as you pluck a thumb-sized chocolate meringue from the nearby plate, before popping it into your mouth.
Sweet citrus lace cacao melts in your eager mouth, sending wonderful serotonin (or happy hormones) down your spine. You moan, shamelessly, because Jesus sweet fucking Christ it was so, fucking, GOOD.
You grab another, then another, switching from orange to strawberry, then nuts and cinnamons for a change; each bite, each mingling of flavors, seem to burst in your mouth.
Eventually, your throat begin to itch and you make for the nearest wine bottle, a Chardonnay, and you decided to forgo the glass and just gulp it down like the philistine that you are.
Well, you would have until not one, not two but three hands slap the bottle out of your eager palm. You let out a tiny cry as the bottle smashes against the ground, its liquid content pooling under your feet as you stare at the utter wastage!
"NOOOO! That was a Chardonnay! Why would you do that?" you say, before whipping up to find…
…a puppet staring back at you.
No, scratch that, a puppet would be…generous…for the…thing standing in front of you.
The puppet, doll, erm, mannequin? Had no face. Just a blank where there should be eyes, nose and lips. If not for the neck and the rest of its…puppet? Body, you would have thought it was one of those creepypasta monsters that writers wrote that had no face.
The mannequin? Yeah, you think, the…thing does remind you of one of those fancier artsy mannequins you find at the shopping mall. Except this one had a baby-sized torso, followed by a pair of absurdly long, segmented arms and legs. It was naked and flawless, just like the ones you'd see before the workers puts on the clothes from their store. It barely reached your knees but somehow seem to loom over your nonetheless.
To top off the creepiness, No-face's head was far, far too big for it…
To be quite honest, you think that it was less a mannequin and more of a rejected mannequin model.
You should be scared…by the way…but you're not. A wave of deja-vu falls all over you as you glance back at the Chardonnay and back at no-face.
"That was a Chardonnay." your mouth blurt out, as your survival instinct facepalms at within you.
No-face tilts it massive head to the side, before you hear it sigh (from where?) and crosses its spindly arms across its chest, almost like its disappointed…and scolding you.
Somehow…with no face.
By right you should be scared…but instead you feel ticked off.
"Don't you give me that look, this is my dream, and that was a perfectly good Chardonnay you wasted…you, mannequin you!" you bristle, crossing your arm because you're an adult damn it! And you will not tolerate wine wastage!
No-face cocks its head to its other side, almost, considering, before one of its long arms unfurls and it points an accusing finger in the universal sign of 'no-no'.
"Expectant Mamas don't drink!" A high-pitched, sing-song voice whisper beside you.
You snap to the voice, so annoying…you didn't lay the egg Pen-
Your head explodes in pain. It was so sudden and fierce that your eyes whited-out from the agony. You're dimly aware that you are screaming and that the world, the chocolate, the wine is melting away to pitch darkness. Something was angry, furious, as your skull threatens to burst. Tears track down your face as you curl up on the floor, sobbing and whimpering as pain racks up and down your spine.
"No! No!" Someone cries out and you're aware that arms, spindly and long engulfing you, a bell-like cry as it holds you.
Then you feel it: cold hands, cold, cruel hands plunging into your brain. You cry at the intrusion – the violation as those hands, grab and tear at your mind – your memories, even as you fight to seize it back.
The hands were angry – it did not like that name – it did not want that name to be held precious to you!
You're mine, you're mine! It seem to taint, even as you cry, beg and plead for it to stop – you don't want to forget! You don't want to forget Pen –
The hand stabs again and you white out from the sheer rage, the pain it inflicts -
"No! No! Sister, sister! Here!" the second voice cries out, arms still clutching and holding…
The hands clutch upon the memory you had tried to recall and something deep within you is screaming because you don't want to lose that – not that memory, not of him –
But you feel weak, now, tired because you're only human and you can only take so much.
"No, no! Let go! Let go!" the bell-like voice keens, you can feel it trying to help but it was so weak, so small…
The hand grips and starts to pull -
"FUCK OFF BALDY-HEAD!" Eggy shrieks.
You hear a loud crack and someone cursing…and then…
The pain stops.
Light floods you, not from pain, but from illumination as the world burst into grey and brown. Your bend over as your entire nerves weep from relief as cool air brushes you and the familiar scent of sewer prickles your nose.
"Oh God, Oh God." You gasp, as you shakily try to sit up. Your vision is still blurry however, but from the scent of sewage, the feel of wood under your fingers, something tells you that you're in the sewers, no Pennywise's old cistern home.
Pennywise.
Like a pin, the name pops the dam in your mind.
You recall and egg, white and shiny, a turtle, large and kind, of a clown, prickly and cruel…but funny and loving to you…him being human, Eggy, nausea, pregnancy, your mother but not, fake and then…
Bob.
You remember the second clown, his whispers, at first sweet, then demanding, then angry. He wanted – what the fuck did he want? You recall that he wanted something but you refused, then he started – erasing your goddamn memories because…
Eggy yells again and your vision snaps back to HD as Bob roars in anger, followed by Penny hollering before you hear a loud thunk of metal against flesh. The cistern is empty, but you see in one of the tunnels shadows of a familiar clown, four armed child and Penny fighting, shouting and swearing away.
Fury courses through you and you look around for a weapon, picking up a metal bat. You try to stand up and you stagger a little but you're determined.
Determined to beat the shit out of Bob because you and Penny had accepted him and he spits it back at you.
You stumble around, ignoring the aches and pains in your joints because fuck that noise. You watch the shadow-play as Eggy clamps her jaws around one of Bob's arm, while Penny is beating him…with what you think is a crowbar.
As the sounds of battle grew louder, you tighten your grip. They are just around the corner, you would have been faster but wading through the sewage water is slowing you down, you nearly stumble when you hear the sound of Eggy screeching, followed the sound of a (small) body smacking against the wall. Your heart clenches at the sound and you pick up the pace.
"No!" Penny cries out and you hear loud, heavy footfalls, the sound of someone running towards your corner. Bob was laughing, of course, "Tough titties, you fools!" he barks, chortling as he makes his escape but you're ready and you have a lot of stress and anger to release.
As he reaches the corner you swing and CRACK.
Bob's eyes widen for just one brief moment, before he falls flat onto his ass. You don't wait for him to get up; you swing the bat again, whaling over his head, again and again, even as blood burst and float around him.
You are snarling, disregarding the burning in your arms, the nausea in your throat as you continue to bash the fucker's head right in. True to his strange nature, Bob's face merely cracked like a fragile egg, you hear him moan and flail but eventually, as you slam right into him, he stops moving. Petulantly, you give him one more kick before the you start to stumble, dropping the bat and begin to lean against the tunnel's wall.
"[Y/N]?" Penny calls out, his eyes are wide in awe. His lip is split and there's blood trickling down his forehead but he's looking at you like…you're fucking badass.
Your body begs to differ however and you slump straight into his chest as he holds you up. As the adrenaline floods away, the impact of what has just occurred, comes crashing down on you and break into tears, grabbing and clutching him – half expecting him to drop you and leave you because your not-mother and the other is gripping him so tightly because you don't want him to leave and you're so fucking happy he came and even in your muddled mind, you know that you nearly lost him and you're so glad you didn't!
And judging from how tight he's hugging you, he feels the same too,"[Y/N], I'm –"
"It's okay…"you say, voice muffled as you bury your face into his chest, taking in the way he smells, the warmth of his skin, how he's pressing himself against you. Perfect.
"Penny?"
"Yes?"
"…why are you naked?"
You can hear his eyes roll,"...that's what you want to ask?"
"My brain just can't right now…" you whine.
Penny's eyes narrow in anger, "I know. He –"
"Mama!" Eggy calls out as she jumps into your open arms. Her mouth was covered in (hopefully Bob's) blood and there was a nasty bruise across her cheek but your daughter is here. She croons and holds you tight, hugging to you and slobbers you with kisses. You were crying of course, because you're so scared and even though your mind is spotty – you knew you almost lost her and you're so glad.
Not wanting to be left out, Penny holds you both as well, "My family," he says quietly.
The three (four, counting baby), embraced each other for some time before Bob lets out a small groan. You all turn towards the cause of this extremely weird and stressful week, Eggy growls in anger as Penny gives the second clown a quick kick in his stomach.
"So…what do we do with him?" you ask. You know none of you can leave him here…but you're not sure how to kill him either. The last time Penny died, it involved the Losers' Club and Maturin joining forces. Penny said if not for that he would have continued on to feed of Derry until the planet burns out. Unfortunately, they have no clue if Bob had his own Losers' Club + Maturin weakness – and even then Bob's Maturin is dead in his dimension.
You can see the wound you inflicted on Bob is healing…albeit extremely slowly…
You're contemplating whether you can set him on fire or beat him until he has no face before Penny turns towards the both of you, lips grinning devilishly.
"Oho…I have an idea."