*Okay, small back story here, I hope it's not too confusing. A year back Bill Denbrough's parents felt that having Bill around was a constant reminder of Georgie, Bill's dad lost his job at Derry Public Works and Bill's mom didn't have a job, so they put Bill up for adoption. A single mother who lived in Derry took Bill in to be her foster child. This woman is Dustin Henderson's older sister, Lillian Henderson(OC). To fully build this story, I needed to have a stronger connection between the Losers and the Hawkins crew, but that connection couldn't be too obvious, that's why I chose to do this. Also, Mike Wheeler and Richie Tozier are cousins (for obvious reasons). I hope you enjoy, and PLEASE leave comments, they keep me going. If you want, you can also check out my Reddie and Stenbrough One-Shots and leave requests! And trust me when I say that this will get good. It just starts out a little slow.*

*Contains foul language and derogatory terms I don't approve of, but in order to form this story in a realistic way, I need to use these words. I love everyone and don't discriminate.*

Derry, Maine, July 3, 2020

If I told you that this story begins with a 'Once upon a time,' then you may stop reading. Mostly because you'd think that this is a children's fairy tale, those are lame, and your too old or whatever. This is not a fairy tale, but it does begin with a 'Once upon a time,' and… well… I'm not gonna tell you how it ends, but I promise, it's not as boring as the beginning.

It starts with seven kids all getting ready to go camping. Bill Denbrough's foster mom found them a place to go camping in Indiana, states away from where they lived in Derry, Maine. Bill had family in Indiana, in Hawkins to be exact, and so did Richie Tozier. Bill's adoptive grandma, Shaylene lives there, and his technical uncle Dustin –who Bill just calls Dustin because it sounds weird to call a sixteen-year-old 'uncle'— lived there. Dustin was best friends with one of Richie's cousin, Mike Wheeler, who happened to have a sister named Nancy. If this weren't a story, I'd draw you a chart, but it is. We'll just say that Richie's cousin/doppelganger is best friends with Bill's uncle and they both live in the same state.

"Once upon a time…" Richie Tozier started to say, but he was cut off by his friend, Mike Hanlon.

"Dude, everyone knows you aren't supposed to start a scary story with 'Once upon a time'. It sounds like trash."

"Well, Star Wars starts that way," Richie said matter-of-factly as he opened the closet to grab his rain slicker.

"Yeah, that's why Star Wars is trash." Mike looked his friend over and Richie gaped at him. Then he whipped something out of the closet and proceeded to hit Mike with it. Mike let out a yell and put his arms up to protect his face. It was a green plastic lightsaber. He was getting beat with a lightsaber that Richie got for Christmas years ago and now probably only uses as a sex toy. Mike had to laugh at this thought and began to run from the angry boy screaming:

"Don't whip dis here black boy!"

Mike lived on a farm with his grandparents and uncle. Most people thought that he was the town's stereotypical black farm boy, but the Losers knew this wasn't true. Mike would walk through greywater for his friends. He would fight off an evil clown from a different dimension for them. He would sell his soul to Butch Bowers if he had to, just to help his fellow Losers. Mike was often underestimated, but when you made him mad, he wouldn't take it. His grandfather Leroy Hanlon said he got that tenacity from his father. Leroy would tell Mike stories as a kid. He'd say:

"Mikey-boy, you got one hot head just like your daddy." And he'd mess with his hair a little, "But, boy, you wouldn't hurt a goddamn horsefly if the time came to it."

"I'd hurt a fly, gran'pa." Mike would reply, "But only if it hurt my family first."

Leroy would just smile and light a cigarette, just like he always did when he was ready to tell a good long story, and Mike would settle in. He was ready for his grandpa's words. The words that would sometimes teach him a lesson, and sometimes would be ten times better than any book.

"Did you know, when I first bought this farm for me, you're gran'ma, and you're daddy, Butch Bowers was already on the farm next to us. He was there but that nasty ass son wasn't there, Harold or whatever h-"

"Henry, gramp, his name is Henry." Mike would say, cringing at the memories of the smaller meaner version of Butch.

"I don't give a rats ass what his name is, just listen up boy." Leroy would snap. Mike closed his mouth and decided to keep it that way. He wanted to hear the story.

"Butch would give us so much hell that we had to call the police sometimes. He'd kill the farm cats, steal our sheep, and destroy property. There was one time where he painted a dang swastika on the side of the chicken coop. Now, your daddy went to check it out an' there was barely anything left of those damn chickens but feathers and guts. Bowers mutilated those things real good. We called the local police and Officer Conan showed up.

"Mikey, out of our town, there weren't and still aren't many good police. Think about all of the black people a year killed by police brutality. And in Derry, things like that are even worse, because in a small town everyone hates each other, but thank the Lord that back then we had one good cop. His name was Gregory Conan. Now, he showed up and we brought him out to the coop and he took one look and promised that he'd find the person who did it. I knew that he would too. He was that nice of a man.

"He left and twenty minutes later he come right back! I was confused as hell and I says 'What are you doing back here, Officer?' He said that the Chief don't wanna do nothing for no nigger. He shook his head as he said that he was sorry, but then he dropped his voice and whispered to me: 'But I would check on Butch if I were you.' and that bastard left. I had been suspecting Bowers, but I didn't want to say shit. Conan was a good man, but he was still white. If I had accused a white man of killin' my chickens in front of another white man... well I was worried I'd get a whuppin'."

"I told your daddy -he was sixteen at the time- to go and check up on Bowers. Your daddy was a strong man, but he was just like Jackie Robison. He would always turn the other cheek. I told him though, I said: 'Will, you go and teach Bowers a lesson. Fight back and don't let him do nothin' to you." and your dad agreed.

"He came back thirty minutes later with a smirk on his face and he told me that he had scared the living hell out of Bowers. I says 'What the did you do, Willy? You tryin' to get us arrested?"

"He say's "No, pa. I just told him off. Told him if he called me a nigger one more time, I was gonna blow his brains out. Put my gun to his head and everything.'"

Mike was listening intently as his gran'pa continued, and Mike realized that he wanted to be just like his dad. He wanted to have a family that loved him. He wanted to threaten anyone who called him a nigger. He wanted to be that strong

Mike was completely unaware that he had all that. He also had no idea that soon that is exactly what he was going to prove. He was going to have to be as strong as his father. He was going to have to blow someone's brains out.

'Black Lives Matter' is what everyone cheers nowadays. He was gonna have to channel that energy.

I'm not a nigger, I'm just dark. Mike thought as he ran in circles from Richie, and he laughed a little louder.

Bill Denbrough walked a large circle around the boys playfighting in the center of the room and went to the kitchen, grabbed the hand of his boyfriend, and sat next to him. Stanley Uris was sitting in the kitchen and staring at one spot on the counter almost in a trance-like state. As soon as he felt Bill's gentle hand around his, he looked up and smiled.

"R-R-Richie is b-b-beating up…" Bill paused and tried to spit the words out. "Mike. In the l-luh-living r-room."

"Why?" Stan tightened his grip in a soft squeeze and looked at Bill. Bill stared into Stan's eyes for a minute, completely forgetting what he was saying, and then he snapped back to reality.

""I h-have n-n-n-no ide-ide-idea."

Stan pulled Bill off the barstool and then stood up himself. Stan was still trying to wake up, and he didn't like coffee, so it took him longer to reach full energy. He was always a quiet kid and never wild, but there was still a slight liveliness about him. An aura almost. Still holding hands, they walked to Stan's room.

"Help me check to see if I have everything." Stan let go of Bill's hand and bent down next to his suitcase, then he unzipped it. It was packed with classic things like shirts, shorts, bug spray, sunglasses, and sunscreen, but then there were other things that only Stanley Uris would pack. Like his Zeiss Ikon binoculars, and his bird book.

Stan pulled a list out of his back pocket and opened it. He was always so neat. For heaven's sake, even the cuts on his wrists were in perfectly straight lines. He was the type of person who had everything in his closet color-coordinated, his shoes in neat rows on a shoe rack, his books all pushed up toward the front of the shelf (but the spines and inch away, so they for sure wouldn't fall) and they were in alphabetical order by the authors last name, he made his bed every morning at 6:05, just after he woke up and used the bathroom—

Stan wasn't messing around when it came to cleanliness either.

He would never go a day without showering, he washed his bedding every week on Saturday, his room had never even heard of a dust bunny, and he cringed at the sight of mud getting on his light blue high-topped Converse sneakers. Nevertheless, Bill still loved him.

"You m-m-muh-made a list, b-baby?" Bill kneeled next to Stan and peered over his shoulder, eyes scanning the list.

"Why wouldn't I?" Stan looked at Bill incredulously and Bill laughed.

"Yeah, why wouldn't you."

"Bevy?" Ben called out as he walked through Beverly's bedroom door.

Bev had been staying with Lillian and Bill lately. Her father was arrested for assaulting Bev's five-year-old cousin, and her mom said it was perfectly okay to stay at Bill's. Bev thought it was a little suspicious at first because in the past Alfredia Marsh would never even consider letting Beverly stay at a boy's house, but when Bev moved most of her stuff out of her room, she realized what was really going on.

Alfredia worked at a local diner, and she was a waitress. It was a trashy, low paying job, with no benefits to the Marsh family at all. Bev's father, Al, was the one making all the money most days – and Lord knows janitors don't make shit— but now with his arrest… the family was broke. This fact dawned on Beverly for the first time when she saw how empty their apartment really was without her things in it. Her mom had been selling things. Selling them for profit, but also selling them to clear the place out… in case they got evicted. Family heirlooms, furniture, paintings that probably weren't worth more than a dollar… they were disappearing.

The fact that Beverly hadn't noticed this until she was moving out, bothered her. It was proof of what little time she spent with her parents. It bugged Bev. It bugged the shit out of her.

"Hey, Bevy!" Ben cheered upon seeing Bev sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at a postcard. It was no doubt the one Ben had given her, the one with his haiku written on it.

"Hi, Ben." She smiled, her short red hair flaming in the sunlight coming through the window.

Ben moved across the room –careful not to let his fat jiggle—and sat down on the edge of the bed. It squealed in protest and that made Bev cover her mouth to hide a laugh. Ben laughed too, but on the inside, he was morbidly embarrassed, because he knew he needed to lose weight. Maybe not all of it, but some. He secretly believed Beverly liked bigger boys.

"Are you excited to go camping?" Ben asked. Bev nodded vigorously in reply.

"My grandma used to take me camping in Virginia." Beverly smiled and grabbed Ben's chubby hand in her slim one. Ben noticed how beautiful and smooth her hands are. Her nails painted a deep maroon colour, a small freckle on her thumb just below the first knuckle, her skin a milky white. Ben's eyes slowly went up to her face, and she stared back. Ben remembered that she had just said something and he snapped back to reality.

"Virginia? You lived in Virginia?" Ben blinked at Bev, still trying to figure out what was happening.

"No, but my grandma used to take me there as a kid. It was pretty fun, I guess." Beverly paused, "It was at least a vacation from here."

"Oh, I see."

An awkward silence erupted between the two and after a few seconds Bev stood up and zipped up her suitcase that was laying in front of her closet.

"Well, did you finish packing, Benny?"

"Umm... yeah, I did last week. I helped Stan pack too. He's so neat! It's crazy!"

"I know!" Bev hoisted her luggage to an upright position and wheeled it over to the door. "Let's go bring our stuff to the shuttle."

"HEY! EDDIE!" Lillian yelled. Eddie was fooling around with the water hose and was getting dangerously close to spraying Richie. As Lillian "Lian" Henerson called out his name he dropped the hose like he had just gotten caught robbing a bank and it sprayed the front of the house completely out of control. Richie scrambled to turn off the water, getting soaked in the process.

"Rich, go change, and Eddie, quit fooling around. Where's your fanny pack?" Lian called out as she put the last of the luggage in the trunk of the airport shuttle. Eddie nodded and ran off, hand in hand with Richie.

Lillian loved these kids, but really?

"L-L-Lian?" Bill asked tugging on the hem of her black turtleneck.

"What?" She turned to the kid next to her and she realized how nervous he was. He seemed apprehensive to ask the question, but after a minute he carried on anyway.

"Do you th-think your b-b-b-brother will l-luh-like me?" He asked purposefully avoiding her gaze.

Lillian grabbed Bill's chin and tilted his head up so he would look her in the eyes. With just that look, all his fears melted away. She was going to be there for him.

"Sweetie, I think he'll love you." She whispered.

At that exact moment Eddie came running up to the car, interrupting the small talk between the two as he yelled:

"Everyone in! Let's leave Richie behind!"

*It's kinda slow right now, but it'll get better. Chapter two is a Stranger Things chapter. I will most likely switch back and forth between the two groups. Every other chapter is the Losers and every other is the Hawkins crew, up until they meet each other. Comment if you have any ideas, or things you'd like to see. I'm always open to new ideas.*