IT Imagines

The Day IT Happens (Bill)

2nd Person POV (MOVIE)

This evening is perfect for book reading. That is why you are chilling in your pajamas reading Lord of the Flies next to your window with a hot cup of tea in front of you. The only thing that could make this evening better would be hanging out with your boyfriend. He is grossly sick, like puking through your nose and mouth sick.

In the kitchen, your mother is making potato salad with the radio lightly playing in the background. She usually has it louder, but she knows that you never read unless it is the perfect weather, like today.

Even perfect evenings will come to an end. In the middle of chapter two, the home phone starts to ring, disrupting your reading. You take your time slowly drinking your tea as she answers the phone.

"What!" Your mother screeches from the kitchen. It is quickly followed by the sound of plastic hitting the floor and more gasps escaping from her mouth. "Sharon, take a couple deep breaths for me. Breath in one, two, breath out one, two. There you go. How long has Georgie been missing?"

"Georgie is missing!" you screech next, almost scaring your mother to death. Over the last couple of months, you have picked up a bad habit of eavesdropping on your mother's phone calls, but this would be one of the few times you let her know you were listening.

"Y/N M/N L/N, be quiet," your mother hisses with a hand covering the end of the phone. She uncovers her hand from the phone to speak to Sharon again, but Sharon beat her to it. That woman can talk forever if she is given the chance. "Okay, okay, I'll ask her, Sharon. Y/N, could you go over the Denbrough house? Sharon said that Bill is refusing to come out of his room and won't eat or drink anything."

"Tell her I'm heading right over," you yell from the living room. You didn't have to think twice about helping the boy you love. If he was hurt, you would help him. If he was hungry, you would make him something to eat. This boy means everything to you.

Without hesitating, you drop your Lord of the Flies book next to your cup of tea, throw on some shoes, and run out the door to go to Bill's house. It isn't too far away from your house, but with the rain and wind, it feels like his home is miles away.

Bill's father gives you a hard look when you knock on the front door to their house. He doesn't waste any time letting you in, already knowing why you have arrived to their house on a rainy evening.

On the way up to Bill's room, you could hear Sharon sobbing on to phone to your mother. Poor Bill probably isn't doing any better.

You knock twice on his bedroom door. "Guh-guh-go away, Muh-mom!" Bill screams back from the inside of his room. His screaming doesn't last long, it turns into sobbing, then hard coughing.

"Billy, it is me," you say in a calm voice, hoping he wouldn't scream again.

The coughing stops, but it turns into loud footsteps and small cries from Bill's mouth. "Oh-oh, th-thank God." He throws open the wooden door and wraps both of his arms around your neck to sob. Sobs and sobs.

Eventually, you wrap your own arms around Bill and lightly rub his back as he lets out all of his emotions into your neck. It doesn't take long for Bill to turn his head into his neck to wheeze out more coughs into his arm.

"Come lay down with me, Bill," you kiss the side of his head once you see him confirm your offer with a little head nod. With that, you walk away from his bedroom door, not before closing it first, then climb into Bill's bed with him following close behind.

"Wah-wait," Bill stutters, stopping you from sitting down on his bed. "Your-your clothes are so-so-soaking wet. Take-take suh-some of my-my pajamas. Bah-bottom left drawer." He points down at his dresser that sits right next to his bed, and carefully nods his head. Even though you have been here plenty of times and stolen plenty of his pajamas before, he still likes to tell you where his clothing is located. That, and he has a fear of you finding his underwear drawer.

You find an old long sleeve shirt and a pair of soft pants to put on. When you glance back at Bill, he swiftly moves his head to look away, already knowing that you were about to ask for privacy.

Bill doesn't stop hugging you after you got back into his bed. Instead of around the neck, this time his arms go around your waist with his head still laying on shoulder. In between you two, there is a box of tissues, used and unused, and some scrunched up blankets.

His sobs tend to quiet down a bit more once Bill is completely comfortable. Every so often a little hiccup escapes his mouth, but he does his best to regain his breathing to a normal speed. It doesn't stop him from sniffling and rubbing his snotty nose on the sleeve of his own pajamas.

"Here, use the tissues, that is why they are here," you whisper softly to Bill while stroking the side of his arm. He whimpers again, then slowly shakes his head side to side.

"I-I-I sh-should have guh-gone with Juh-Georgie ow-outside. He-he's lost be-because of me." Bill says in between his short breaths and stutter. If you aren't mistaken, it sounds like his stutter is worse.

You kiss the top of his head, "Bill, it wasn't your fault that—"

"Yuh-yes it was, Y—Y/N!" He screams and pushes away from your body to pout on the other side of the bed. It doesn't take long for him to start coughing and wheezing again. "Oh-oh god," Bill points over at the other side of the bed and makes a couple of strange noises, which is enough to indicate to you that he is about to puke his guts out once again. So you grab the nearby trash can and hold it out in front of you with your head turned away as he hurls into the bin.

It takes him a couple seconds to calm down from his heaving, but when he does, he lays back down on his mattress and sighs. "That was disgusting," you lightly laugh, still holding the bin away from your body and Bill's body. He laughs too. "When is the last time you took your medicine, Mr. Denbrough?"

"Too-too long," he sighs again. This time, Bill weekly points at his bedside table that has crackers, water, and some weird white pills on top of it.

You read the instructions on the outside of the box while Bill makes groaning noises from the bed. Poor boy does not like being sick. Eventually, you walk over to his side of the bed and hand him the pills and his cup of water. He swallows it in one gulp, not wasting any time to down the medicine.

"I-I'm suh-sorry for yell-yell-yelling," Bill says quietly as you walk over to the other side of the bed to put the cup down. You shrug your shoulders at him, then proceed to climb back into his bed. "Y/N, I-I don't wah-want you get-get-getting sick like-like me. Stay over-over there."

"Nope," you say back at Bill. He looks back at you with wide eyes and his mouth slightly dropped open. "I don't care if I get sick, because you will be there to nurse me back to health just like I am now. Cuddle me, Loser."

Bill sighs again, realizing at there was no point in fighting you on this. Slowly but surely, Bill scoots closer to you in the bed and lays his head back in the same position as earlier.

"You know what, never mind. You smell like vomit and in desperate need of a shower."