The Bath || Stenbrough

1985

"Stan can you please get the phone?" Bill Denbrough's calm voice whispered in my ear. He was laying next to me, too tired to get the phone. I didn't want to make him get up so I instead, climbed out of bed, stretched, and grabbed the the phone from the living room.

"Hello?" I answered the unfamiliar number.

"Is this Stanley Uris?" The voice seemed so calming, yet terrifying all at once.

"Yes? Who is this?" I reply yawning.

"Mike." The man answers, as if there's not 7 Mike's in my apartment building alone, and probably millions in the world.

"I'm sorry, Mike who?" I ask calmly.

"Mike Hanlon, from Derry." Suddenly the unfamiliar voice has a face to it. A dark skinned 13 year old boy with chocolate brown eyes and a smile that lights up the small town in Maine. I wonder what he looks like now, I haven't seen him in many many years. 24 to be exact.

"I-I-I" I suddenly find myself stuttering as much as my husband, Bill before he started speech therapy. "Well h-hello Mike."

"It's back." Suddenly shivers creep down my spine. Two simple words that send memories flooding through my head.

"How much do you remember?" Mike asks.

"A-All of it, how could I forget?"

"Some of the others did." I can almost hear Mike shrugging in his voice.

"Who have you called?" I feel tears trickling down my face and across my nose.

"Richie Toizer, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, and you, Stan." He sounds much like he's been crying too, which makes me which I could hug him.

"So you just need-"

"Bill Denbrough and Eddie Kapsbrack." Mike says their full names as if I could ever forget any of these people, who shaped my life. I wonder if any of the 'losers' know that me and Bill got married. Well, not technically but we had a little wedding with our closest friends and family who supported us, since queer marriage is illegal.

"Oh. Well Bill's with me right now would you like me to put him on?"

"You and Bill still talk?!" Mike's voice goes high with shock. "Yes! Please put him on."

I set the phone aside for a minute and tiptoe back to the bedroom, moving Bill's auburn hair out of his sleepy face. "Hey Bill, someone wants to talk to you." I choke out, barely able to stay calm after that phone call.

"Can it wait?" He nuzzles his face back into his pillow.

"No, I'm afraid it can't." I rub his arm in a circular motion with my palm, which is sweating with stress. He groans, taking the blanket off of him and walking (at an annoyingly slow pace) to the living room. I stay sitting on the bed, almost scared to move. Maybe if I sit here forever it will go away. I hear repeated gasps and noises of shock from Bill in the next room over. He comes back around 10 minutes later. He doesn't say anything, he just grabs a suitcase from the closet and starts tossing clothes into it rapidly. He doesn't even look at me, he just packs, not only his things but also mine which sends panic rushing through my veins. I don't want to go back to Derry, but I know we need all of us to stop it.

"Bill, honey." I grab his arm stopping his aggressive packing. I see tears streaming out of his eyes, which are wide with fear and pain. Bill shakes his arm out of my hand and continues his packing, still not saying anything. I take his arm again, trying to stop his mad rush of tearing apart our closet.

"St-Stan, we h-h-have to go." Bill stutters. He hasn't stuttered in years.

"We can go in the morning, for now can we just go back to bed. It's 2:00 in the morning for fucks sake!!" Bill hesitantly nods, and climbs back into bed, pulling a comforter over him and laying on his side.

"I think I'll take a bath." I tell him, kissing his forehead softly.

"At 2:00 am?" He asks.

I nod. "I love you so much, okay?"

"I love you too St-Stan." He rubs my hand with his thumb, before I walk off to the bathroom. I turn on the faucet, spilling cold water onto my hands.

I decide to grab a pen and paper out of Bill's office before I take my bath. I write a note and leave it on the bedroom door.

A suicide note.

a/n: a bit short, since it's only the first chapter