A/N: I know I said I'd write the next chapter for A Trip to 1971, but I honestly wasn't feeling it. And with It Chapter Two coming out recently, can you really blame me for wanting to continue my It fanfic instead? And speaking of Chapter Two, they did retcon one particular plot point in Chapter One that I specifically acknowledged in this fanfic. That being that Bill was not truly sick on that rainy October afternoon, but just pretending to be so that he didn't have to play with Georgie. I won't be changing anything in this fanfic to comply with that, because personally, I don't like that "twist". Yeah, of course I'd believe that there'd be some days when Bill wouldn't want to play with Georgie. I've even acknowledged so several times in this fanfic. But I just have a hard time believing that Bill would create such an elaborate lie just to get out of having to play with Georgie. The way I see their relationship, they're so close to one another that they can be perfectly honest with one another. If Bill didn't want to play with Georgie, I feel like he'd just tell him that. In the book and the miniseries, he was actually sick, and that was the case for the 2017 movie, too, until they retconned it in Chapter Two. So, I'm still going to have Bill actually be sick. And this story is an AU anyways, so it doesn't really matter XD
Anyways, I really like how this chapter ended up coming out, so I hope you guys enjoy!
Rain pitter-pattered on the rooftop and slid down the glass of the windows as Bill sat cozily in his room, writing some ideas he had for a story at his desk. It was a horror story—what Bill enjoyed writing most. He liked the monsters, the zombies, the vampires. All the stuff adults dismissed as dumb, and trashy, and unnecessarily grotesque. But to Bill, that stuff was just fun, and what was the point of writing something you don't think is fun? Bill didn't have a complete story thought out for this one yet, but he had ideas of a monster that lived in the basement. There was a kid who saw the monster, but no one believed him, because "monsters in the basement" is just a silly thing every child said. So, the kid would just have to take matters into his own hands. Bill would be lying if he said he didn't take inspiration from his little brother's panicked ramblings.
He was in a good writing mood right now. He always liked rainy days. The sound of the rain against the roof was very relaxing to him, and it better allowed the ideas to flow out from his mind. If there had to be one downside to rainy days, however, it was Georgie. He was more likely to get bored on rainy days; therefore, Bill was often left with the task of having to entertain him.
And speaking of which, Georgie suddenly barged into Bill's room with his toy turtle Toby in hand. "What'cha doin', Billy?" he asked.
"Writing," Bill said sternly. "So that means I d-d-don't want you around bugging me. Now, b-b-buzz off."
"Hmph!" Georgie pouted. "Why don't you try writing something for me?"
"W-w-what do you mean?"
"You should write a story that I would like!"
"Okay." Bill set aside the piece of paper he was currently writing on and placed down a fresh sheet. He was slightly annoyed about having to stop writing out those story ideas in exchange for appeasing his brother, but at the very least, it still involved writing. "So, w-w-what do you want your story t-to b-be about?" he asked.
"A boy!"
"Is this boy named George?" Bill thought he knew where this was going.
"No! His name is Jack."
Bill was wrong. Sometimes Georgie liked throwing a curveball at him. "Okay, J-Jack it is. And so, what is Jack's s-st-story?"
"He was raised by a family of tortoises."
"What happened to his a-actual parents?"
"They lost him when they were on vacation. That's when he found the tortoises."
"Alright. W-w-what happened next?"
"Well, one day, he found out he wasn't a tortoise like everyone else. He was a human. So, he set off on a journey to find other humans."
"Hey, that's actually n-n-not too bad of a premise! What k-kinda stuff does he c-come across on his journey?"
"He meets a giant bird who can fly him all around to different lands. The bird's name is…Binko!"
"Binko?"
"Yeah! He's a Binko Bird! The last one to exist. One of the lands they fly to is filled with dinosaurs! And they almost get eaten by a T. Rex! But then there's a triceratops that they made friends with earlier, and he comes in and fights with the T. Rex! And they have a huge battle!"
"What does all this h-ha-have to do with the n-n-narrative of Jack trying to find o-other humans?"
"Because it's fun! That's why!"
Bill couldn't help but think of himself when he heard Georgie's response. "Because it's fun" had often been his excuse whenever someone questioned why he "wasted" his writing talents on writing monster stories. "Okay, okay," Bill said. "So then what happens?"
"Well…I'm not sure. I haven't thought that far ahead yet. But I gave you a good starting point, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did. I'll s-s-start writing it for you, then whenever you th-th-think of more ideas, you can just tell me."
"Alright!" Georgie said as he skipped out of Bill's room to go play somewhere else.
Once Georgie had left his room, Bill wanted so badly to return to writing out those ideas he had for that horror story. But he made a deal to his little brother, and he didn't want to back down on it. Georgie's ideas seemed a little dumb to the fourteen-year-old, but then again, that's probably how many adults thought of his own story ideas. So, if that's the story that would make Georgie happy, then Bill would be there to write it. Bill got out another fresh piece of notebook paper and started writing a rough draft of his story for Georgie, given the rough ideas his brother gave him.
"Bill! Georgie! Dinner's ready!" Sharon called out from the kitchen. The two brothers simultaneously burst out from their respective rooms and dashed down the stairs.
"So?" Bill said to Georgie as they walked toward the kitchen. "Have y-y-you thought of how the rest of your st-story will go?"
"Yeah! So, after Jack and Binko escape the dinosaur land, they come to a land where all the humans act like dogs and all the dogs act like humans."
"Wow, that s-s-sounds pretty interesting."
"Yep. So, as you can imagine, Jack got very confused about that. These people look like him, but they don't act like him. He thinks maybe it's because he was raised by tortoises, and that these people are how regular people act like."
"What are you boys talking about?" Sharon asked as she set the food on the dining table.
Bill and Georgie took their seats. "I'm just telling Billy about some ideas I have for a story," Georgie said.
"Oh. Well, it sounds very interesting!" Sharon said as she took her seat. Zack joined the table for dinner as well.
"So then, Binko tells Jack that he's met other people before and that they don't act like that. They act more like Jack. So—"
"Georgie," Sharon interrupted. "Maybe you and Bill can talk about this after dinner."
"Okay, sorry, Mommy," Georgie apologized as he stuck a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
After Georgie and Bill finished their dinner and excused themselves from the table, they both ran back up the stairs to Bill's bedroom. "So, Georgie, how d-does the rest of the s-story go?" Bill asked.
"Oh, yeah! So Binko takes Jack, and they go off to look for a place where humans don't act like dogs. Then…well, I haven't thought of an ending yet. How would you end it, Billy?"
"How would I end it? Hm, I don't know." Bill pondered for a moment. "What if, w-w-once he and Binko find a village of humans, the humans turn their back on him, b-b-because they don't seem him as one of them? Even though he's a p-p-perfectly fine and n-nice person, because he doesn't l-look exactly like them, and he d-doesn't dress exactly like them, and he doesn't act exactly l-l-like them, they don't accept him. Thus, proving humanity's inherent d-desire to alienate, prejudice, and d-discriminate those who are different f-f-from them."
Georgie stared back at Bill blankly for a few seconds. "No offense, Bill, but that ending kinda stinks."
Bill couldn't help but see the humor in the situation and chuckled. "Well, at least you're honest. Okay, if you don't like my ending, how would you end it?"
"Hm…so, Binko flies Jack to a town of humans, and they're all confused at first. They have no idea where he came from, and Jack can't speak their language. He only knows how to talk with animals. But Jack feels like this is where he truly belongs, so the townspeople take him in and teach him all about life as a human. They teach him how to speak, how to cook, and all that stuff. And then, suddenly, there's a couple in the town who recognize Jack. They don't realize exactly who he is at first, but once they look closer, they realize it's their long-lost son! So, Jack finally gets to reunite with his parents. The end."
"Alright, nice story, Georgie! Now that you g-g-gave me the rest of it, I can continue w-writing it out," Bill said as he returned to his desk and started writing more of the story.
"Thanks, Billy. I would write the story myself, but you're so much better at telling stories than I am. You always make me actually see what's happening with your words. I can't do that."
"It just takes practice, Georgie, like with everything."
"Are you gonna write actual books when you're older, Bill? You know, like the ones that get sold at bookstores?"
"Hopefully someday; that c-c-certainly would be cool."
"And then I would tell people, 'That book you're reading was written by my big brother! He's super famous!' And I'll feel so proud of you!"
"Well, who knows, you might be f-f-famous one day, too! And I would say, 'You know G-Georgie Denbrough? Of course, you do; e-everybody knows him. Well, believe it or not, he's m-m-my baby brother!'"
"I'm not your baby brother!" Georgie laughed.
"You'll always be my b-b-baby brother," Bill snickered. "No matter how b-big or how old you g-get." Bill realized that he still had the notebook paper out in front of him, and he had to get back to writing. "Alright, now d-don't distract me anymore if you want me t-t-to get your story written."
"Okay, sorry, Bill. I'll leave you to your writing," Georgie said as he left Bill's room.
The steady trickling noise of the rain outside hitting the roof of the house continued, leaving Bill in the perfect, relaxed state of mind to proceed writing about the wacky shenanigans of a tortoise-raised boy and his bird friend.