𝓢𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓵 || 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗞𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗸 𝘅 𝗙!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

▸ Ch. 8: Somebody's Watching Me ◂

a//n: I had to tweak the timeline a smidge for this to work. Nothing major but the parade/park is roughly a week after the rock fight, not a day. And I left room for the shower cap scene afterwords

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𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐲
𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐦𝐞
𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦?

- Rockwell, Somebody's Watching Me

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Since the day of the rock fight, the Losers had been inseparable. And not only had that day come to be known as the day their bond had been forged but the day they had found a place to call their own: the clubhouse. A small subterranean dugout that Ben had found while playing in the Barrens one day. After many a reinforcement, he had transformed it into a habitable space for him and his six, now seven best friends. After their defeat of the Bowers gang, Ben had taken them into the Barrens, and just across the Kenduskeag Stream to the aforementioned fort where their bonds were furthered forged.

And apart from their dark confessions at the park and the overcast of fear looming over their heads, Y/n had suggested another trip to the clubhouse as a morale booster. They each found themselves there with one another quite a bit, particularly when things were looking gloomy. It had quickly become a sanctuary for the children. And since their taking residency, the dingy little dugout had filled with trinkets and treasures of their own, slowly but surely growing far more homely with each visit.

This particular trip to the clubhouse was less than exciting, everyone was still fairly unsettled from their conversation at the park earlier that day. And the journey through the barrens and across the Kenduskeag was considerably silent apart from the trickling stream and the singing birds. And every so often they would hear the scuffle of Ben readjusting his backpack over his shoulder.

When they had left the park, he had suggested stopping by his house to pick something up and the others complied, curiously. Before they could debate on whether or not to follow him inside, he had returned from his house with a thick brown burlap cloth folded up under his arms. He was unzipping his backpack as he walked across his front lawn, tucking some more unseen things inside before storing the large piece of cloth and ropes in as well.

"What is that, Ben?" Y/n had asked, balancing herself on her bike as it stood still on the pavement, her toes reaching for the concrete.

He had closed his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before grabbing his bike.

"Oh, it's our old hammock." Everyone's face's lit up at his words, the first they had perked since the park. "We had it at our old house, but, we don't really have a good place to hang it here, so I figured we could find a spot in the clubhouse."

"That's a great idea," Mike beamed.

Ben smiled at the comment and turned a little pink. He had always found it odd his interest in architecture, the kids at his old school always gave him grief for it. And over time it became an instinct to bury his interest, to never bring it up. But when he showed the Losers the clubhouse, they were enthralled. With the structure and his abilities. Ben was still getting used to their fascination and support in his passions, but he sure did enjoy it.