I Wasn't Careful (Bill Denbrough X Reader)

t h i r t e e n

June 12
1989
2:57 p.m.

You watched from afar as the losers all collectively beat up the clown. One by one, they all faced their fears head on and defeated them. They managed to get him into the well, where It muttered one final word before falling, "Fear."

"I know what I'm doing for my summer experience essay," Richie stated, cutting the silence. You smiled and leaned your head back, closing your eyes.

"Guys," you heard Eddie call out. "Guys, the kids are floating down."

Bill walked over to a yellow piece of clothing aiiting on the garbage and picked it up. On the inside of the raincoat, the words, "George Denbrough" were written in sharpie. Bill fell to his knees and clutched the coat as he cried. The losers gathered around him as he finally got the closure he had been looking for.

"I hate to interrupt," Richie cleared his throat and stepped away from the group. You couldn't see, but he had pointed over to your bloody figure. "What are we gonna do about {Y/N}?"

"We can't just leave her here," Ben stated. You heard footsteps approach, but kept your eyes closed.

"But what are people going to think if we just show up with her body?" Beverly chimed in, pointing out the obvious problem. You knew playing a prank at that time was a dick move, but then again, you had just been stabbed. "We can't bring her with us."

"{Y/N}..." you felt a hand touch your cheek. The touch was soft, as well as Bill's voice while he spoke. "Sh-Sh-She died thinking w-we hated her. I... {Y/N}, I'm s-so s-s-so-sorry."

"I forgive ya," you opened your eyes and smiled cheekily at them. They all screamed and jumped back, none of them expected you to answer. "No hard feelings, alright?"

"{Y/N}!"

Had you not been bleeding profusely from your midsection, they would've all jumped on you and given you a big hug to show how sorry they were. They were overjoyed at the fact that they hadn't taken part in a murder, and also that you were still breathing.

"I'd, ngh, love to chat," you smiled tensely. "But I'm kind of bleeding out and I don't want my last sight to be the crusty sewers of Derry."

"I'll carry her," Richie volunteered himself and stepped forward, pushing Bill away. He hooked his arms under you and lifted you up, apologizing quietly whenever you whimpered. "Let's get out of this shit hole."

The others agreed and you all started your walk back to the rope. Richie lagged a bit behind everyone else and moved carefully so that he wouldn't cause you more pain than necessary. You leaned your head against his chest and kept your hands pressed again the wound.

"Thanks," Richie's eyes flickered down to you momentarily. He spoke quietly, only loud enough for you to hear.

"For what?" You asked, meeting his gaze.

He looked away, but kept talking in a hushed voice, "You knew about me... About what I am. You could've told them, but you didn't."

"It's not my secret to tell," you replied simply, closing your eyes. He hummed, but you didn't see the wide smile your words put on his face. "I'll love you unconditionally, trashmouth."

Richie continued to carry you until you both reached the entrance that led back to the Neibolt House. He lifted you up and slid you into the entrance before climbing up himself. With so little room, you weren't able to be carried and resorted to crawling through the tunnel with one hand still over your abdomen.

Bill, Stan, Bev, Mike, Ben, and Eddie all climbed up the rope and hopped out of the well. They looked down at you worriedly. Your hands were slick with blood and climbing up meant releasing all of the pressure on the wound. Richie helped you grab onto the rope and steadied you until you had managed to climb out of his reach.