Reap What You Sow

We Know the Way the Wind Grows Still

The entire house was plunged into chaos.

Eddie came shouting up the stairs, slamming everyone's doors open and freaking out. Richie had almost sent poor Pest sailing off him in his attempt to sit up as fast as possible. "It's Bill!" Eddie shouted. "Something's really wrong!"

Richie had sort of just been expecting a bloody nose, maybe a dazed look in his eyes--but Bill was completely out cold on the kitchen floor. His under-eyes were dark and his skin white as a sheet, the color draining from him more and more by the second. And no matter what they tried, they couldn't wake him.

With no other options, Richie and Mike carried Bill upstairs and into his bed.

Everyone gathered into that one room, all panicking and talking over each other, trying to suggest what could be going on. And more importantly, what they should do.

"Hey shut up!" Richie shouted after just a few moments of the madness, waiting until everyone actually did so before looking at Eddie. "What happened?"

"I just found him on the floor," Eddie said, still as panicked as he was when he came scrambling up the stairs. "I woke him up for a second, but he was out again quick." he looked at Richie, a very unpleasant look in his eyes. "I have a really bad feeling, Rich."

It sent chills down Richie's spine.

Ben looked around anxiously. "Shouldn't we take him to a hospital or something?"

"Are you kidding?" Stan sputtered. "And tell them what?! They're not gonna find anything, and then we'll have to somehow explain why he's like this even though there's nothing wrong with him. That's just asking for unwanted attention."

Mike had been working on trying to get Bill to wake up with no success. "Well there has to be something we can do. Eddie, can't you heal him or something?"

"I can't heal him being affected by some supernatural pressure in the universe, Mike." Eddie snapped. Almost immediately after he said it, his eyes lit up as he looked at Richie. "Can you give him some energy? Maybe it'll be enough to get him to come to."

Richie nodded, sitting at Bill's side. He grabbed Bill's hand and just sat there a bit awkwardly. The Losers had often used him as a charger, but they usually hugged him or leaned on him or something. He was not nearly as comfortable just holding the hand of his unconscious friend. It concerned him how cold Bill's skin was.

A bad feeling started to slowly wash over him; seeping through his body. Bill was dealing with something, and it was a lot stronger than him.

The thought sent a sort of urgency through him--he decided to hold Bill's hand with both of his own.

It took awhile. Richie wasn't sure how long they all stood around in an anxious silence, not speaking a word, all eyes on Bill. But it did seem to be working; he at least had a little color in face after a few minutes.

It must've been almost a half an hour later when he finally stirred, somehow managing to open his heavy eyes.

"Bill!" everyone shouted, crowding around.

"Ugh, my head," he groaned, sitting up weakly.

"Hey," Mike said softly, putting his arm around him to help steady him. He smiled warmly, and Richie wasn't sure if he was trying to be comforting or if he was just so relieved he was awake. "What's going on?"

Bill looked at him, frowning deeply. There was something unsettling in Bill's eyes that made Richie glad they were directed at Mike instead of him. "S-Something..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Can someone bring me m-my cards?"