dead in the water ( IT CH:2 ) DISCONTINUED

vi. the beginning of the end

( WARNING:
this chapter will contain mentions of death, murder, a dead body, blood, stitches, swearing, and other such things. please do not read on if any of these things might trigger you. your health is more important than the story. )

SIX

Levi ran and ran, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she forced her legs to move faster. She blindly pawed at her cheeks with the heels of her palms, trying desperately to get rid of the mascara stains that had surely formed below her eyes.

Once the first glimpses of downtown Derry came into view, she allowed her pace to slow to a stop, her breathing coming in short pants as she leaned over, pressing her hands to her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she managed to catch sight of Richie's red convertible, parked outside of the town temple; this piqued her curiosity, which soon overshadowed her fear as she began slowly walking toward the entrance. For a fraction of a second, she was back in 1989, thirteen years old and wearing that gingham dress, standing on the curb with Stanley and Richie. Levi chuckled at the memory, promising to herself that she would cease the opportunity to tease the Tozier man about his old bright blue suit when the occasion arose.

She quietly pushed the swinging doors, shoulders relaxing when her eyes caught Richie sitting alone on one of the benches, his mind clearly somewhere far away. Levi walked closer, taking a seat next to him, which startled him out of his reverie; he snapped his head in Levi's direction, visibly relaxing when he met her soft, worried gaze.

"You were leaving?" She questioned, voice quiet and light— so light, that Richie would've mistaken it for a gust of wind or his own subconscious, still stuck in a memory.

Richie shook his head, hesitating for a second before he shrugged. He couldn't lie to her—never had been able to—and yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, either; he knew she was a scared as he was, but he couldn't bear to talk about that now. Not when he'd just found the slightest sliver of peace amongst all the chaos.

"...Yeah," He forced out, lacing his fingers together and pushing his hands between his knees. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, already anticipating a disappointed expression. Instead, he heard her give a hum of understanding as she turned her head away from him.

"I want to leave, too," She mused, shoulders slumped. "More than anything." Her voice was small, almost as if she was afraid that if she spoke too loud, she'd disturb the sense of calmness and serenity that had fallen over them. "...But we can't. Mike and Bev made that pretty clear."

A comfortable silence settled between them, neither of them willing to be the first to speak; there was nothing to say, no words that could truly express what they were feeling, so they just sat together until the late hours of the afternoon, when they both walked out of the building and got into Richie's car, making their way back to the Townhouse.

___________

Hannah all but crashed through the Townhouse's front doors, hair sticking to her forehead and eyes wide and wild; Ben and Beverly both turned their heads sharply, alarmed by Hannah's abrupt entrance.

"Han." Ben's brows furrowed as he took in the woman's frazzled appearance. He took a tentative step forward, "What happened to you? A-Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I—" Hannah took a deep breath, pushing her hair back from her forehead and softly shaking her head, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to form a coherent thought in the midst of her receding fear. "The clown. The goddamn clown got me."