Losers: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Didn't Stutter Once...

We rode up the street to see Bill standing at the top of the old rickety steps. We threw our bikes down in the street and rushed into the overgrown yard. We all gathered in a group at the bottom of the steps, sweaty and out of breath as the sun beamed overhead.

"Bill, you can't go in there! This is crazy!" Bev shouted, shaking her head.

I couldn't say that I disagreed with her. Hunting down some demon clown that kidnaps and eats children and lives in a run down crack house does sound a little out there. I want to see Georgie again just as much as Bill does, but I think it's time to face the fact that he's probably not coming back.

I wiped my brow with the back of my hand Bill started to speak.

"Look, you don't have to come in with me. But what happens when another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty or another Edward Corcran-or even one of us? Are you going to pretend it isn't happening like everybody else in this town? Cause I...can't. I go home, and all I see is that Georgie isn't there...his clothes, his toys, his...stupid stuffed animals...but he isn't. So walking into this house, for me, is easier than walking into my own." Bill nodded, turning away from us and wiping his eyes.

"Wow..." Richie said in awe.

"What?" I asked, feeling the urge to go wrap my arms around Bill.

"He didn't stutter once." Richie mumbled.

We all took a collective breath and started up the steps behind Bill, but I noticed Stan wasn't coming with us. I was just about to ask him why, but he spoke before I could.

"Guys wait! Shouldn't we um...have someone keep watch?" He asked, obviously not wanting to go inside.

"Who w-wa-wants to stay out here?" Bill asked, gazing out over our group of losers.

Everyone but Bev and I raised their hands. Of course the two of us (the two obviously in love with Bill) would be the ones willing to go into the creepy old house.

"Fuck." Richie sighed.

"Let's draw s-straws." Bill nodded, making his way back down the steps and looking around in the grasses.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Einstein, but we aren't exactly in Eddie's kitchen. Where are we gonna find straws?" Richie asked.

"We'll use t-th-these." Bill said, turning around with seven sticks halfway hidden in his hand.

He went around, everyone drawing a stick until there was only one left. He held his hand out to me, still hiding how big or small it may have been. "Here y-you go, (y/n)."

"I'm not taking it." I said before I lost my nerve, pushing his hand down.

"Why not?" He asked, staring me straight in the eyes and I felt the same familiar tug that I did that afternoon on my porch.

"Because I'm going in that house, and no stupid stick is going to get into my way. We're going to find the thing that took Georgie and give him hell." I stared back, not backing down in the slightest.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Stan asked, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"No, so let's get in there before I change my mind, okay?" I nodded heading towards the steps.

Bill, Eddie, Richie and I made our way into the dreaded Neibolt house. When Richie and I were little, we would dare one another go get as close as we dared, but neither of us had been inside. Dust and cobwebs covered every surface and it was a little hard to breathe. I could only imagine how Eddie felt. Speaking of Eddie, I had no idea why we let Eddie, the asthmatic who has trauma associated with this place, come in here.