I wake up in the night, getting out of bed to use the bathroom. I notice Stan's not next to me so I assume he's still in the bath. A note on the bedroom door sends surges of panic through my body.
Dear Bill,
Yes, this is a suicide note.
I stop short of reading the long note and run towards the bathroom, hoping I still have time. I jiggle the door knob over and over, but it's locked. I sprint into the kitchen, to the closet which holds the spare keys. I turn the key in the doorknob, opening it just in time. Stan sits with a knife in his hands, about ready to slit his wrists. He drops the knife out of his hand in shock as he sees me. I rush to the bathtub, sitting at the edge with a sigh of immense relief. Tears flood Stan's dark eyes flood with tears. Very soon, they flood mine too.
I rub his arm avoiding the wrist, which is bloodied pretty bad. "Stanley..."
"Sorry." He murmurs.
I shake my head and grab him a towel, which was right next to me. He sighs and wraps it around himself, pulling the drain plug. He sits next to me and we watch as the water swishes around, sinking through the hole. I put my arms around him, letting him cry into my shoulder. A few minutes later, he gets up making me panic.
"W-Where are you going?" I ask worriedly.
"To get dressed..?" Stan pretends like everything is fine, like he didn't just try to take his life.
"Can I come with you?"
He nods, holding my hand as we walk to the bedroom. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and one of my t-shirts. I watch the whole time he does, not so much in a sexual way but more because I felt inclined to protect him.
"I'm sorry." Stan's sobbed, sitting on the bed.
"You did nothing w-wrong!! I'm just glad you're okay." I sit next to him pulling the comforter over both of us.
"I promised, Bill."
"Promised what?" I rub his hand in mine.
"The promise, when we were kids!!" He exclaims.
"What promise?" At this point I'm very confused on whether I should know, or it's some childhood memory nobody could dream of remembering other than Stan.
"You don't remember?" Stan cries. "What do you remember?"
"About what, love?" I cup his face in my hands, wiping his tears with my thumbs.
"Everything!! The summer Bill, the summer of 1958!!" The man's hands flap up and down with stress and distraught.
"What happened that summer Stanley?" I say in a hushing tone, holding both his hands in mine, in attempts to calm him.
"Fuck." He says before breaking out into intense sobs. I hug him tightly, rubbing his back. He rests his chin on my shoulder, tears dripping down my back.
"I love you so so so much." I tell him.
"I love you too Bill." Stan replies, wiping his eyes and sinking down into the bed. I wrap my arms around his waist, laying down right next to him. And I'm sorry." Stan adds after a while.
"I'm so glad your okay." I ignore his apology fully, simply grateful he's here with me.
Stan soon falls asleep in my arms. I'm very tired but I don't want to sleep knowing he could hurt himself if I do. I sit up not allowing myself to fall asleep, brushing his soft curls out of his eyes.
The next morning, Stan wakes up whilst I'm still sitting up, never having slept at all. "Hi." He kisses my forehead.
"Hey." I reply, giving him a short but sweet kiss on the lips.
"I'm sorry." He says again, bluntly.
"Don't be, sweetheart." I smile comfortingly and hug his side, pulling him closer. He points out that I look tired so I admit to not having slept at all. Guilt creeps in to the poor Stan's face.
"It's not you fault, Stanley." I rub his back with my ever so sweaty palms.
"Don't full name me, William." Stan teases, leaning his head onto my chest. I fake gag before turning to look him in the eyes, giving him a more serious look.
"We have to go, honey." I say. "To Derry."
He shakes his head. "Why? Why should we go if you don't remember why?" Stan then crosses his arms giving me a sharp look. He's always been a sassy man, ever since we were kids but damn it's annoying sometimes.
"Stanley, we promised."
"You don't even remember what we promised." He simply states, looking down at the floral bedsheets.
"I-" I realize he's right, I have no idea what we promised. I don't know if it was important or not but it feels important, can I make this big of a decision off of a feeling? I have so much work. Can I leave it all behind for god knows how long due to a feeling?
"What do you remember?" Stan asks, placing his hand overtop of mine.
"I don't know." I admit, feeling stupid.
"I'm going to help to remind you." He declares with a smile. His teeth align perfectly with each other, like a finished puzzle.
"Okay...?" I lay my head onto his lap confused.
He runs his (fairly dry) hands through my hair and asks me a question. "Do you remember the losers?"
"Yes." I say. How could I forget! "Richie Toizer, Bev Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom, and Eddie Kapsbrack?"
"Good." He smiles, relieved. "What else do you remember?"
"Not much." I answer earnestly.
"You always wore those stupid flannels..." Stan's finger traces my nose slowly.
"Hey those weren't stupid!! I still wear those sometimes!!" I exclaim defensively.
"And they're still stupid." His hands return back to my red-brown hair. "But you pretty in them."
I smile, sitting up and giving him a quick kiss, before laying back on his lap. "Carry on."
"We used to hang out at..." Stan says this slowly, as if he wants me to finish the sentence for him.
"Your house?" I tilt my head. "I remember sleeping there a lot." The sleepovers come flooding back into my memories as I say this. I would sleep at his house almost every day when we begun 'sort-of-dating.' We would cuddle for a while, not having to explain our relationship to anyone else. We were good.
"The quarry." Stanley replies. "With the losers, I mean."
"W-Water?" I chuckle. "I just barely remember."
"Yeah, you stared at Bev in her swimsuit while I stared at you." He chuckles.
"I stared at Beverly?" I laugh, in genuine surprise.
"You dated her for like, 2 years Bill." The curly headed boy leans down and kisses my cheek.
"I did?" I blush in sheer embarrassment.
"Yep, it broke my 13 year old heart." Stan says, straightforwardly.
"Oh...sorry." I apologize.
"Late apology, but I'll take it." We both laugh before he gives me a solemn look. "There's more important thing's than that though, Bill."
"Like what?" I sit up, looking him in the eyes.
Stan takes a deep, deep breath, like the word he's about to say could kill him (and it might.) "...It." He says a simple two letters, yet still sends a surge of panic through my body. It's a feeling hard to put into words. Maybe a mix of many, fear, sadness, and something else I can't quite place. It's like I don't remember, but I feel it. Like déjà vu, but so different.
"Do you remember, Bill?" The beautiful man asks me.
"No, but I feel it." I reply, earning a confused look. Stan holds both my hands in his, rubbing them gently.
"That's why we need to go Stan, I feel it. I know I remember I just can't....yet." I rub his back. He nods hesitantly, as I pull him out of bed. I grab the large suitcase still left in the closet, sit down and begin placing clothes neatly into it. I fold the ones I was too delirious to yesterday. Stan sits crisscrossed next to me, resting his face onto my chin.
"I love you." His sweet voice whispers in my ear.
"I love you too." I smile, enjoying his face close to mine.
We continue to pack, this time with him helping me almost in a rush. I feel like if we don't get to Derry soon enough something terrible will happen. Once the suitcase is fully packed, we get in our small silver car, and start driving. Stan rides in the passenger seat, playing 'The Beatles' on the stereo, which was his favorite band since college. He hums along to the radio, which makes me smile. He's so cute. I giggle softly at him.
"What?" Stan asks while blushing.
"You're adorable." I smile trying to keep my attention on the road rather than my beautiful husband in the other seat.
"I love you." He smiles, red as a strawberry.
"I love you too, no matter what." I reply.
a/n: their abt to remeet the losers :,) and yes, in this story stan lives...as for eddie, ill decide later 🤭