Richie entered a small clearing the in the woods and found an old cabin, still standing as if by some miracle. He looked at El before walking over and rubbing off years of dust from the window, peering in. "Looks empty to me, Señora Carrie. Wanna check it out?"
"Yeah, let me go in first." El pushed the door open carefully before walking inside, holding her hands up in case there was someone or something she would need to defend them from in there.
Richie being as dumb as he was, pushed past her while singing Cyndi Lauper. Very loudly. "GOOD ENOUGH! FOR YOU! ITS! GOOD ENOUGH! FOR ME it- HOLY SHIT NO!" Richie screamed, having walked into a spider web, thrashing around in panic as if he had been set on fire.
El looked confused and somewhat horrified at his reaction, shaking her head. "If we end up dead, I'm fully blaming you. It's empty."
Richie glared and stood up, "Yeah, well if you do that I'll shit in your backpack, wastoid." He stood and dusted himself off, looking around. "God, this place is a crackhouse. It smells like ass in here." The boy took his glasses off and cleaned them of duct, putting them back on and lifting up a dusty book, putting it back down. "Nasty."
"It's better than nothing, and it's empty. It will be good to camp out." She walked over to a chair, dusting it off before sitting down and crossing her arms. She looked out the window, as if she'd stare long enough that suddenly she'd be home..
"Stanley would be bitching his head off while Eddie cries about getting a staph infection if they saw this shit. Bill would be the one to shut them up while Ben stared at Bev and Mike looked for fire wood." He huffed and sat down, almost pouting, as if this was simply some dream he's wake up from any minute if he tried hard enough. "What would Your Mike do?"
"He'd probably freak out then find a way to band everyone together, make sure everything was safe..." She sniffled slightly. "I miss him. A lot.."
Richie sighed, "Sounds like Bill. He was always scared and freaked out but he did his best to help everyone and keep them calm and together and shit, ya know?" The boy stood and stretched, looking around the cabin for any tools they might need, another Bill thing to, probably prompted by Eddie. "They all had this thing to shut me up when I went to far. 'Beep beep, Richie'. I miss them too."
"You know, it is nice however. There's no monsters or government to run from." She bit her lip, still staring out the window.
"Yeah, good thing there's no clowns either." He shuddered in genuine fear. There were many things Richie could handle but clowns were not one of , he promised to kill it again if the thing ever appeared back in Derry. Optimistically, this wasn't Derry. The dream sequence we was given made him happy to not be home- or an adult. "I'm going to look for food or something, we can't starve ourselves."
"There's not much for food around here and I'm used to not eating that much." She shrugged, biting her lip slightly.
"Me either, I've never been more than 90 pounds in my whole life." Richi poked around, finding a lighter and a few scribbled on papers. He tossed the papers and kept the lighter, still looking around for anything they could sue. "I guess food can wait awhile, I wouldnt eat shit from a crackhouse. Hey, you think this was a moonshine still? That's be pretty dogshit wild, ya know? Hella cool."
"You cuss a lot, is that normal?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. She was more curious than judgmental, for once.
"Yeah, well at least my brain doesnt bleed every time I make chili, mouth-breathing dweeb-" He scoffed and hopped up onto the desk in the middle of the room, digging through more drawers. He sighed, lowering all his- some - of his defenses. "Look, like I said earlier. If you wear glasses you have to cuss a lot, otherwise people will think you're a nerd." More like when you don't have any real parents to raise you, but Richie wouldn't get into that. His lack of self-esteem was a better, more obvious excuse that didn't sting as much.
"Well you don't have to so that around me, I already know you're not a nerd. According to Max; Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas are major nerds. Although I like the comics they showed me, but she had to introduce Wonder Woman to me."
Richie looked at her, "You like Wonder Woman?" He walked over and sat down, "Yeah, she's cool and all but have you ever seen Catwoman? Issue one came out back home and it was pretty sweet!" He stopped, "Ah, fuck. Now I'm a nerd, great."
"Catwoman? Um.. That's the lady who steals stuff and dates Batman right?" She bit her lip, hoping she was getting her information right. "I thought comics were cool? The only reason the guys are nerds is because they play d&d."
"Ew, D&D is for Geeks and Wastoids. I'd be dead before you caught me near that shit." He scoffed and fixed his glasses, "I'd rather have my backpack shit on again and be given the world's biggest god damn Swirlie than ever get seen near D&D. Actually- scratch that- I'd rather make out with Ed's mom and crawl up inside her love glove. Back where I come from, if you like comics you're a fucking nerd. Basically, if you can't throw a football in a damn helmet, you're pretty much a target for everything other than a perfect life. But, I mean, hey, 1989 am i right?"
El stared at him blankly for a good three minutes. "1989 is four years away, what the hell are you talking about?"
"No... I'm pretty sure its 1989." Richie pulled out his watch to see the date on it glitching out. He began to smack the shit out of it on the desk, sighing in frustration. "Okay, so my watch doesn't fucking work, but I swear its 1989. The Catwoman issue just came out, Disney made the Little Mermaid, and Back To The Future II is trending everywhere. I swear on it, I fucking swear."
"I'm.. Really confused." El furrowed her eyebrows. "It's.. Only 1985 where I'm from. The only movie I know that recently came out was the one where Steve was talking about dude trying to make out with his mom or something."
"Wh-" He shook his head, thankful his glasses didnt fall off. "Its not 1985, or I'd be like- 10 or something. It was 1989 when I fell asleep, I did not travel back in time." Richie raked his hands through his hair, trying to think about what Bill would do. He came up blank. "Is now the time to fuckin' panic? Because Im getting there."
"Wait wait, don't panic. We're both in a strange place, we're both from completely different times." Her eyes went wide before she stood up. "I remember a scientist talking about the possibilities of this um.. It's like a different dimension. It's like the Upside Down but not. So... All we need is to find a gate!" She said excitedly.
"A WHAT?" Richie stopped panicking and looked at her as if she was speaking spanish. "No hablar real espanol, Senora Carrie- what the fuck are you on about?" Richie looked around, watching the sun start to sink. He walked away from the window, paranoid about clowns.
"The Upside Down is like.. Well, that's where the monsters we had are from. But the thing is, there was like a gate between our dimension and there's. I.. Closed it once." She bit her lip slightly. "We had to get here somehow, right?x
"Yeah unless we're fucking dead ." He spat, getting frustrated. "You dont know where we're at, you claim to be some magic crackhead but get brain bleeds from a radio, we're stuck in the woods with no food and no water, my friends are missing, and you dont even know what year we're in! Why should I believe you about some fucking telepathical gate of wonder?"
Now, El would have normally been angry. She could have thrown him against another tree, punched him in the face again. But, instead, she just looked down. "Look.. I know it's crazy. I've been told that over and over. I just..." She let out a soft sigh and looked up at him. "Friends don't lie."
Richie stared long and hard at her, kicking his shoes against the dirty floor. "Yeah, maybe. I dont know about your 'Mike', but Billy lied to us sometimes. A lot of times. I got punched in the face for telling the truth and he apologized to me when faced with sudden death."
Stan pushed the door open with the toe of his foot, careful not to touch it at all. In his arms, covered up to his shoulder in long gloves, were two boxes of junk food alongside some water bottles. He had given up cowering behind the tree he had woken under and made his way into town, running back in fear when the sun started to sink. Monsters? He could deal with those. But filth and not knowing where he was? Never. Dropping the boxes he stared at Richie and the new face. "R-...Richie? What are doing here?"
"Well I don't lie, especially to people I consider friends. And I am not my Mike." Once she notice the door open, El of course jumped up and held her hands up, ready to attack until she heard the guy. "Wait, is this one of your friends? From your group you told me about?" She looked over at fake Mike Richie with a confused look.
Richie's jaw dropped upon seeing Stanley in the doorway, he looked at Eleven and then at his OCD bud and grinned. "Stan! Stan the man! What the fuck are you doing in here, ya fuckin' Jew? You live here? Man, I'd expect a cleaner place than this crackhouse for you, Stanley."
"Uh, yeah. Beep beep, Richie." Stan set the boxes down and shoved past Richie, pulling off the gloves and gently setting them down- side by side- on the desk, adjusting the left one three inches away exactly. He measured. Wiping his hands down the front of his shirt- once, twice, three times- the curly haired Jew stared at Eleven. "Who's she?"
"I'm Eleven, um.. I'm pretty sure I'm more than likely from a different dimension." She shrugged, hoping this guy didn't freak out like Richie did. "Hi."
"Oh god, you did it now." Richie groaned, tucking his face into his shirt. Stanley didn't "believe" in that shit. He had been the last to accept what had been happening to them the first time, and even less willing the second time- in his possible dream before waking here.
Stan looked at Eleven and back at Richie. He knew he was dead, he killed himself in a bathtub while his wife wasn't looking. He left her all alone at the age of 40, yet here he was. A child again at 13 years old. Looking at Richie, he too wanted to believe this was a dream but the scars on his wrists left little room for reluctance. Only denial. Eleven not being from Here- wherever it was- didn't shock him like it would have had it been truly 1989. "I'm Stan."
"It's nice to meet you!" El smiled brightly, grateful this guy didn't freak out. "I like him, he's nicer than you." She said to Richie much too bluntly as she moved to look out the window again.
"Yeah, well at least im not a fucking crak whore! You smell like beans!" None of it was true but he was running out of insults that wouldnt make her cry. Richie stared out his own window, knowing Stan didnt like people enough to hug him like he wanted. "What's in the boxes, Stan?"
Stan sighed, pulling out a few boxes of dry cereal, tossing one to Eleven to snack on if she was hungry. Richie could starve a little while. "Food, water, supplies. While you've been off doing whatever you've been doing, I've been out here trying to survive. On my own. " He glared, slightly upset none of the Loser's had found him yet.
"Hey, Stanny. Come on. Dont do that to me." Richie all but whined. It wasn't his fault he had just woke up and he was lonely too. "If I knew you were here I woulda looked for your ass, promise! We swore, remember?"
"He actually did try looking for you guys." El interjected and looked at them. "I.. Tried to use my powers and... I'm the reason he couldn't find you. I'm sorry." She didn't think she needed to explain the rest.
Stan looked at El and sighed, pinching his nose. He didn't care what Richie was up to. He cared about getting back to Hell where he thought he'd be... is this Hell? Oh god. Eternity with Richie. It was Hell. He nearly sobbed, but didn't want to have a mental breakdown in a 'crackhouse'. "Alright, alright. Fine."
"Thanks, El." He looked at her gratefully, grinning at Stan and walking over to him. "So, Stan the Man, whatcha up to hen, huh? You find a way out of here? Find the boys? Bev? The clown? Come on, man, throw me a fuckin bone over here- Im drier than Eddie's mom."
"Can.. Can I just ask what's going on with this guy's mom? I'm... Really concerned." She frowned as she glanced out the window again. If one if Richie's friends showed up, maybe one of hers would too..
Stan looked at Richie with a glare, answering Eleven. "My friend Eddie's mom. She has problems but she isnt at all what Richie says. " The way his friend talked about Eddie's mom made her sound like some disgusting being-maybe she was. She forced her son on meds he didnt need, made him think he had problems he didn't. Kept him too close to home... but that wasn't deserving of his abuse, Eddie had turned out to be an okay man, wherever he was.
Richie shrugged, "Looks like a whore to me." He put an arm around Stanley, "This is my bro Stan, who wont dare call me out on my shit as I was the only one f us pals to bother showing up to his lame Jew party."
"Jew party..?" El looked really confused. "What does that mean? You called him a Jew upon entering, I'm.. So confused. Is it a 1989 thing?"
Stan glared at Richie and shoved him off. "No, it means I'm Jewish and all my friends flaked on my Bar Mitzvah except this lame ass." Sadly, Richie and Eddie were his two best friends. Sadly.
"You know you fucking love me," He smirked, shaking his head.
"Jew..ish?" This sadly brought up more questions that El wasn't exactly prepared to ask.
Stan groaned and ran a hand down his face, "Its a religion. One of which I am hating immensely right now." This was Hell. It had to be.
Richie nodded, "yeah, you know. Like God and shit like that."
El, who obviously still didn't understand, tried to watch for anything in the woods. "Do you know if any more of your friends show up?"
"Its been me for the past three days, but I wouldn't be surprised if these guys were just avoiding me." Stan spat bitterly, lighting a candle he bought and standing very close to it, scared to be in the dark any longer. He watched the flame burn, trying to ignore all the dirt in the house wih every fiber in his being.
"So... no Bill? No Eddie?" Richie tried to hide is disappointment. "Fuck, man. This is bullshit. They promised. We swore with blood for god's sake."
"Yeah, well people break promises sometimes, Richie. And life just sucks sometimes. And sometimes people get so sick of it they just stop existing anymore and all their friends are too busy living it up to notice. Get used to it." Stanley popped the bag of chips in his hands with a 'bang', sending potato crisps all over the floor.
"What? What the fuck are you talking about, assface? Huh?" Richie stood up, smaller than Stanley by some good inches, pushing his glasses back into place. "You got beef with me, Uris? Open the fridge, where it at-"
"Or maybe they're just as scared and lost as I'm sure all three of us were, nothing will be solved with you fighting. Do all boys do this?" El snapped and looked at them again
"No. They dont." Stanley stooped down to pick up all the chips in threes with the tips of his fingers, careful not to touch anymore than three chips at a time and avoiding the dirt at all costs. Once they were cleaned he wiped his hands on his shirt- once, twice, three times- walking over and lighting another candle. "But, I have my reasons."
Richie glared, pissed that Eleven would stop them like that. "Yeah, Stan. There's a possibity that Bill and the others have been chopped to peices and are lying in a ditch somewhere, covered in maggots, and smelling worse than Eddie's mom's underwear- but you dont have to say that shit outloud, bastard."
"God you're both such mouth breathers!" El groaned and crossed her arms. "You know, I should just go. Have fun fighting monsters without your group." She flipped them off before storming out, being a baby and sitting right in front of the cabin.
Stan glares at Richie and opens the door with his shirt over the handle, standing over and behind her. "Richie doesn't mean it, he's talkative and has problems. We call him roadrunner because his mouth is always, well, you know-" He makes two beeping noises, the kind you'd hear on Loony Tunes. "A roadrunner."
"I'm sure we'll find everyone, your friends too."
Richie sighed and sat down on the floor, "I'm sorry, El, I didn't mean it. Again."
"It just bothers me. You guys, even my friends, there's so much fighting and you don't know what it's like. Until three years ago, I didn't have friends.. Not like you guys do." El shook her head. "I just don't understand."
Stan looked at Richie and back at El. "Look, I dont know how you and your posse are, but we have Billy. Bill is the dumbest, most optimistic, most incredibly insane and determined person I've ever met. He's gullible, trusting, always looking on the brightside, and stops at nothing to keep us together. He's our glue and without him.. Us losers kind fall apart. I.. envy him. A bit." He sighs, running a hand through his curly hair and staring at his wrists, if he hadn't had done what he did... would things have been different? Was this because of his promise? He wouldn't focus on it now.
"Yeah, man. Bill is like, the fucking paste of all paste. Even I wouldn't eat paste but I'd eat- wait. No. Not where I was going with that-! " Richie slammed his head into the desk. "Fuck me."
El smiled and let out a soft laugh. "That sounds like my Mike. Actually... If it wasn't for him I wouldn't even have my group. Lucas and Dustin wanted nothing to do with me but.. He took care of me without a second thought. I actually lived in his basement."
Footsteps had begun approaching from the forest. Soft, hesitant, weak ones. None from anything big or tough or strong, there was a bit of a limp to the ragged steps. Not any grace either, leaves crackled and branches snapped.
As if it was physically speak of the devil itself, a tall, thin, twink-ish figure made it's way out of the forest towards the structure in the small clearing. The dim light glistened off of dark red streaks down his cheek and leg.
"LUCAS?! DUSTIN?! COME ON, THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE!" His voice cracks with fear and tears for a moment. "W-... WILL? EL!?"
Richie peers his head out to see the figure in the clearing, squinting hard through his thick glasses. "Holy shit, dude! Its Janet Jackson!" The thin boy grabbed Stan and shook him, "Who the fuck invited Janet Jackson to the group, he looked at El, "You said this place was abandoned, asshat!"
Stan throws Richie off of him and looks out the window, "That's not Janet Jackson. Cyndi Lauper, maybe, but not Janet Jackson. For one, it isn't even bla-" He looks at Richie, "A woman. And two, why the hell would Janet Jackson be looking for her ?" He looks at El.
El didn't stay to argue with the two before running out the door and yelling. "Mike! Mike I'm here!" As soon as she found him, she ran and hugged the curly hair boy as tight as she could. "Please please please tell me I'm not dreaming right now."
Mike staggers a moment as El practically attack-hugged him, and slowly wraps his arms around her torso. "... I wish we were both dreaming, El..." He whispers hoarsely, relaxing into his shoulder. "I thought we were done with shit like this, at least for a little while."
"Should we... ah..." He makes eyes at the door, "Follow them?" Asking was stupid, he knew Stanley was afraid of the dark more than he had been when a killer clown was eating his god damn face off. The skinny lad peered out the window more before standing closer to his friend. "That's Mike, I saw a picture of him. Handsome devil if I say so myself."
"I'm staying here." Stanley held the candle up closer to his face, not wanting to look away from its bright glow. "And anyone you think is good looking, is actually fucking not." He looked out the window at El and her friend, too far away to make out any details but the color of their clothes. "She looks happy, we should move on in the morning and leave her here with Mike. Good things don't happen to us."
El pulled away to cup his face, smiling brightly before letting out a gasp. "Wait, there's two boys here. Richie and Stan, um.. I want you to meet them but don't have a heart attack when you see Richie." Before he could question like she knew he would, she pulled him towards the cabin.
Mike was, in fact, about to question her, but he ends up staggering along behind her, still limping from the large gash in his leg that became easier to see the closer to light they got. Mike followed her up and inside, and froze for a moment when he saw Richie. He now understood what El said.
"Eyyy, cowabunga." Richie sauntered up to his reflection and pushed his glasses up, "Look at this fucking asshole! Perfect image, god damn. If Eddie saw this, he'd probably shit his pants and smell worse than his mom's vagina does! Fucking rich! " The by cackled and punched Stanley.
Stan looked Mike up and down with a sigh, rubbing his hand down his face. He'd offer a hand-shake, but didnt do touching. Especially casually. Germs. So many germs. Holding the candle closer to him, as if to be hugged by the light and warmth, Stan shut the door and quickly locked and unlocked it- once, twice, three times- keeping it latched on the third. He wiped his hands on his shirt int he same manner. "Hello, Mike."
El was obviously excited to have Mike there, taking his hand without the others noticing. "Now this, this is my Mike. He's... One of the best." She looked up at him, still smiling brightly.
Mike shyly rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. "Well, I wouldn't say all of that, El." He looks to his doppelgänger - Richie? - and to who he was pretty sure was named Stan. "Do... any of you know what's going on here?" He pushes his curls back out of his face. "I'm assuming the answer is a resounding no but I just thought I'd ask."
Stan looked at him, running a hand through his own tight and curly hair. here was always his theory on this being hell- purgatory, at the least- but he'd keep that to himself. The tall boy ran his thumbs across he deep scars on his wrists, still painfully aware of how dead he was. How lost time he was. "No, I con't know what's going on here. There's more of us, probably, I only just bumped into Richie tonight."
Richie looked at Stan and then other two, scoffing. "You think I'd be in the middle of the woods, walking through shitty leaves, sleeping in a crackhouse, and hanging out all by myself and these fucking loses if I knew where the hell I was or what the god damn diddly fuck was happening? God, you're even dumber than Eddie's mom. "
El rolled her eyes and looked up at Mike. "He sounds really mean, but apparently he cusses a lot because of his glasses. He says he has to or else people will think he's a nerd."
Stan shot a look at Mike. "Did you tell her that?"
Mike recoils a second. "What-? No! I'm one of the biggest nerds back in Hawkins!" He shifts his weight onto his good leg. "I... I would play D&D and shit before."
"Actually- uh- I told her that." He looked at Mike, apologizing for ruining Eleven. "Look, we just need to figure out where we are. Because I left in 1989 and you guys are from 1983 and that's not fucking happening with me."
"2016," he muttered quietly, digging his nails into his palms, picking at his cuticles. He died in 2016, in his bathtub, right when that clown decided to hitch its way back to fucking Derry. That stupid, stupid town... "We all need to get you guys out of here. I'm looking for Billy as soon as I can see my own nose without a candle. He'll know what to do."
"2016?" El looked horrified at that bit of information, chewing her lip. "This is all so scary.. I don't even know what year it is in this place."
Mike taps his fingers gently against El's. "Maybe it doesn't have one." He glances over at her. "Maybe this place just - is. Whatever it is."
"Yeah, or maybe its Hell. " Stan spat bitterly, glaring at Richie. An eternity of being lost in dirty woods with only Richie...and...strangers... It seemed like punishment enough for the Big Sin and broken promises. This was one thing he wasnt skeptical about.
Richie whistled lowly, too busy playing with a stick bug to be bothered until Stan mentioned Hell again. "You know what, you have been overly religious today, have you been talking to Eddie's mom? Wake up, earth to Stan!" He got in his ear before backing up more, "This isnt Hell, where's the fucking flames? Huh? Did you eat dog shit when you smacked your head? We're in the woods, we just wandered too far into the Barrens. I know I'm not usually optimistic, but I have a good feeling about this." Not. But someone needed to be Billy.
"I already said what I think it is but Richie freaked out. Not sure about Stan. " El mumbled and laid her head against Mike's shoulder.
"What did you think, El?" Mike gently presses his head to the top of her head. "Like the Upside Down?" He ignored the arguing boys. He was pretty used to Lucas and Dustin by now anyway.
Richie stopped snapping at Stan and looked over at Mike, "She mentioned that shit already. No offense but this probably doesn't involve you assholes, we've got this shit under control. All we gotta do is take out that fuckin clown and we can leave."
Stan glared daggers at the three of them. "Do what you want, find who you want, I'm not helping. I know why I'm here, you three can go suffer your petty little delusions all you want."
Mike sighed heavily and rubs his temple. "I don't think it's the Upside Down, or a clown, or Hell." He gently squeezes El's hand. "It's... Somewhere like the Upside Down, or something with a clown-? I'm not gonna ask-" He looks at Stan. "And it might be something like Hell. We're all here, somehow, for different reasons. But, why?"
"I don't know but we have to get back." El frowned and looked down. "I bet everyone's super worried right now..." She bit her lip again. "I know I am. And I also know that clown, demagorgon or not.. We can't split up. That's how people disappear or die.."
"Yeah pretty sure you won't have to worry about that." Stan gave a nihilistic laugh. He knew why he was here, this was Hell. He was sure of it. He was being punished with everything he hated and it was his own fault. But Richie... Stan glared at him again, picturing his hands around that stupid boy's throat. He was mad at him, mad at him for forgetting seemingly everything that had ever happened past the year 1989. "Richie knows why we're here. Or me at least. Unless he conveniently forgot. "
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Stanley? Huh?" Richie stood up taller and pushed his glasses up. "We're lost, that's why we're here. Get over yourself and let the magic crackheads get us out."