An airport was the last place you wanted to be right now. There were too many people rushing around to reach their gates, there was too much noise, too much chaos, as if the storm raging in your mind wasn't enough to deal with already. Multiple emotions stacked on top of each other and you struggled to even understand how you'd gotten there. You were upset, anxious, exhausted both physically and emotionally. And you were angry. Angry at the jerk who'd just knocked into you when walking past and didn't bother to apologise or even acknowledge you, angry at whatever it was that was forcing you to return to Derry - a place you didn't even remember until recently. But most of all, you were angry at your brother.
It was confusing. You felt guilty for being so pissed off at him, but how could he do that? How could he do what he did? He had left you, his little sister. Though you were only a few years younger than Stan, you always looked up to him and you always needed him. You had taken care of each other ever since you were kids and it always seemed like it was you two against the rest of the world, even when you would bicker like all siblings do. He would always make sure you were happy and healthy and you'd patch him up whenever he'd come home with scrapes and bruises after encountering Bowers and his gang
You were partners in crime, though your 'crimes' mainly consisted of teaming up to smuggle cookies back into your rooms at night where you'd stay up way past your bedtimes to talk until one of you eventually fell asleep. It was usually you who'd fall asleep first and every morning you'd wake up tucked in, back in your own bed. He was always a great big brother to you and that's why it was especially hard to understand why he had killed himself. Of course you had an inkling, though. You'd gotten a call from Mike, too.
You called your brother almost immediately after getting off the phone with Mike. Stan had been contacted by him as well, though you both found that you had strangely forgotten who Mike was until the phone call. "It sounded serious. Do you think something's wrong?" You asked, holding the phone against your ear.
Stan didn't live very far from you but it was a long enough drive that you only saw each other in person occasionally and most of your contact was via calling, texting or FaceTime.
"Yeah." Stan said quietly with a sigh and you almost didn't hear him.
Though neither one of you verbalised it, you knew you had both felt that fear when Mike called. What it was exactly that you were afraid of was unclear. You could feel the memory tickling at you, it was buried somewhere deep in your mind, but you just couldn't think of it no matter hard you tried. You pulled your laptop out and turned it on, leaning your head against your shoulder to hold the phone in place so your hands were free to type.
"This is crazy, how did I just completely forget about Derry? Even now I can only remember little bits." You huffed, looking for cheap tickets to get the earliest flight possible. Stan mumbled instead of giving a proper answer but you were too focused on your current task to take real notice.
"I guess I'll see you soon then, Stanny?" You said. "Yeah...see you soon. Love you, Y/n/N."
Stan was quieter than usual on that last phone call. The next morning you had several missed calls from two different people. The first two were from Stan and the rest were from his wife, Patty. Still groggy and only partly awake, you attempted to call Stan back but every call would go straight to voicemail. When you finally reached him you were surprised to hear Patty's voice, not Stan's. You assumed Stan was busy and that's why he needed Patty to answer the phone.
Maybe he was in the bath or something
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Derry hadn't changed. Or maybe it had, you couldn't remember enough about what it used to be like to know if it was still the same or not. The flight was smooth in terms of turbulence and whatnot but every time you looked at the empty seat next to you, the seat where Stan should have been sitting, you were reminded all over again of the fact that he wasn't there. Maybe you were still in shock because as much as you thought about the fact that you'd never talk to him again, the full weight of that still hadn't really hit you. You acknowledged that he was dead, that he'd never again roll his eyes at some dumb joke you made. But it was still hard to truly understand it. It still seemed so strange, like it wasn't actually happening and you'd wake up the next day and all would be back to normal. This was some fucked up nightmare. It felt like you weren't even awake but just mindlessly walking around, somehow feeling both overwhelmed with emotion and numb at the same time. You were just floating.
Derry hadn't changed. Or maybe it had, you couldn't remember enough about what it used to be like to know if it was still the same or not. The flight was smooth in terms of turbulence and whatnot but every time you looked at the empty seat next to you, the seat where Stan should have been sitting, you were reminded all over again of the fact that he wasn't there.
Maybe you were still in shock because as much as you thought about the fact that you'd never talk to him again, the full weight of that still hadn't really hit you. You acknowledged that he was dead, that he'd never again roll his eyes at some dumb joke you made. But it was still hard to truly understand it. It still seemed so strange, like it wasn't actually happening and you'd wake up the next day and all would be back to normal. This was some fucked up nightmare. It felt like you weren't even awake but just mindlessly walking around, somehow feeling both overwhelmed with emotion and numb at the same time. You were just floating.