"If it was that easy we wouldn't be talking about it," Bill muses, wry and a little tired. If anything in their lives had been simple, they might not be here right now, nursing old scars and deeper sorrows, wondering what the city lines might do to them when they decide to leave again.
And they will leave, in the end. It's all they can do.
"You don't have to do it alone, you know," he says it so casually and he reaches for the pack of cigarettes. He doesn't smoke, really, but when in Derry... "Not anymore. None of us do."
Bill won't turn a blind eye because all of his blind spots have been diminished. There are no more yellow rain slickers haunting his dreams, no more doubts or questions or bouts of numbing amnesia. It's all laid out before them, and when he looks over at her, offering the pack back once he's fished a cigarette for himself, he can't help but feel like he's seeing her for the first time all over again. Vibrant and bright and strong, even when bruised. They all looked to Bill for guidance, sure, but Bev had been the real leader; the glue.
"Twenty-seven years was plenty of time to get our shit together," he says with a little laugh. "So it'd be nice to meet up occasionally somewhere else. Throw a beach bonfire, get wasted and talk about politics or listen to one of Richie's sets, like we'll even get the choice." A smile, tired, but warm, crosses his face.
There's something about the way that he tells her that she doesn't have to do it alone that disarms her in a way that only Bill Denbrough can manage. It takes her by surprise, although maybe it shouldn't. But, as popular as she is, as successful as her adult life has seemed to be, she has been mostly alone throughout it all. She and Tom had good moments, little highlights of brightness in the pit of darkness that was their marriage sometimes, but outside of that a lot of her life has been a carefully orchestrated act. The polished and poised fashion designer that everyone knows and loves, the way she's sought out by both celebrities and common people alike. Her friends are generally also Tom's friends, and they're all too careful to look away, to not ask questions whenever she cancels a get-together at the last minute, or when she claims she had gotten into an accident to explain the newest injury that she can't quite hide.
But, just how it happened years ago, Bill makes her feel seen in a way that still takes her by surprise. Because he sees her, and he doesn't see her as weak, how she does on the worst days. He's still on her side, and she smiles as she digs out a cigarette for herself.
"You're right, we're not alone anymore." She lights her cigarette before offering to do the same for him. She takes a long drag of it like a pro, the burn of it bringing with it that familiar comfort she's used to. "For all the shit this trip brought, I'm glad we all found each other again."
Who knew, that back when they had made their pact, that it would lead to this. That it would impact their lives so deeply, that they'd be forever-changed by decisions they made at thirteen. As much as she had found herself cursing Mike for calling them, for dragging them back here and holding them to their promise, she's at least glad that they can salvage their friendship as well.
The image he paints is one that she can already see, as if the bonfire and the laugh that will accompany it are just happening a few feet away, and she smiles. "As soon as I get settled in, I think that's a hell of a way to do a housewarming party. I'm in." She flicks off the ashes over the railing, at the dirt below.
"It's crazy, isn't it?" Her eyes wander off to the town, the way it's slowly coming to life now that the sun is rising. "It's really over. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's really done."
That they're alive, she doesn't say, but it's implied. After twenty-seven years of dreaming about all of them dying, to be free from it... It's more than she had ever expected.
Now that the underlying threat of the creature is gone, it's easy to try and look at the future with a little bit of optimism. Until returning to Derry, he hadn't realized just how much negativity hovered in the air around him wherever he went. Sure, he's been successful and his books sell, turn into movies, even, but he hasn't written one yet that feels right. Now, for the first time in most of his life, he feels energized in a completely different way.
Maybe that's the company, maybe that's the curse of Derry finally releasing its grasp on them, but he's not sure. Either way, he takes a deep drag from the cigarette, closing his eyes against the burn before he exhales on a low chuckle.
"After all we've done in the last fuckin' week and here we are planning housewarming parties." He shakes his head, a smile on his face as he tries to reconcile the final fight and everything that lies ahead of them.
"But we did it, didn't we?" HIs voice goes quiet, almost awed by the things they've been capable of after all these years. "We had no idea why we were coming back here or what would happen, but we did it. It feels wrong to think about leaving this place after all of that. God, when we were younger I remember we couldn't wait to break those city limits, all of us, after the fight in Neibolt. Pact or not, but I always had a feeling. Couldn't really put my finger on it."
He flicks some of the ashes into the mulch below before he goes in for another drag. "Been trying to write myself to the reason all this time and didn't even realize it."
But they've all done that, in a way, haven't they? Lived their lives knowing that something was missing but never able to really place it, never able to turn around and look it in the face. "Shit, when I heard Mike on the phone that day, I thought I was having a heart attack. Couldn't say why I knew it was something serious, but I just knew."
"We did," she responds with a small smile on her face, her gaze lost on the view of the town in front of them. It's different, now. Derry is still a hellhole that she never wants to live in, and that she never plans on coming back to, but it feels different now that the fog has lifted. Now that they defeated the monster living in the sewers, the curse that had fallen on the town long before they were even conceived.
As Bill speaks, she glances over at him. Beverly has been living with her own shadows lingering in the corners of everything she does, but she never imagined what it could have been like for them. It just never entered her mind to even consider what it could have been like for her friends, even if she dreamt about them constantly.
"The way this town had a hold on us... I don't think any of us fully realized it." She sits on the rail of the porch, turning to face him a little better. "I dreamt of all of us. Every night. And it was never... We never made it this far. We would always die, it was always so fucking bloody." And, of course, she had been right with Eddie. The grief of losing one of their best friends still feels like it crushes her chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment, but she swallows it down.
"I always defaulted it on the chaos I was living in; the somehow those dreams were a result of my subconscious or whatever psychobabble people say. But...it's weird. Now that we're on the other side, there's so much possibility, and it feels strange to think of taking that first step."
But that's the thing about the creature, about Derry, isn't it? That it always held onto them, even when they couldn't quite wrap their heads around what it was. But Pennywise was always there, lurking. They might have left the shadows behind, but the shadows never quite left them.
"Yeah, makes you wonder how we forgot in the first place."
Except, in a way, it doesn't. It's easy to forget the things you're afraid of, to forget what you can't quite explain. But now, with the fog of fear and desperation lifted, with so much left behind them, there's actually a road ahead. A way out.
He snubs out his cigarette on the railing with one last exhale, the nicotine doing something to clear his thoughts. That, or it's Bev. She'd always been the level-headed, strong-willed one when they were younger. Brighter than any shadow that tried to swallow her whole. "Well, you don't have to take it alone."
And maybe that's too daring, what with everything waiting for them beyond Derry, the pieces of their lives they'll have to try and make sense of again. "It's a long drive from here to California. Guess I could always fly, but I don't know, think the journey might be good. Maybe help me come up with a decent ending for my books for once." A huff. God, he hopes Mike is around to rib him about that for years to come. "But I could give you a lift. At least as far as Chicago. And it'd break up the monotony of it all for me. If you're interested. Bored enough, even."
A shrug, a smile. "It still feels like a dream, doesn't it?"
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no subject
And they will leave, in the end. It's all they can do.
"You don't have to do it alone, you know," he says it so casually and he reaches for the pack of cigarettes. He doesn't smoke, really, but when in Derry... "Not anymore. None of us do."
Bill won't turn a blind eye because all of his blind spots have been diminished. There are no more yellow rain slickers haunting his dreams, no more doubts or questions or bouts of numbing amnesia. It's all laid out before them, and when he looks over at her, offering the pack back once he's fished a cigarette for himself, he can't help but feel like he's seeing her for the first time all over again. Vibrant and bright and strong, even when bruised. They all looked to Bill for guidance, sure, but Bev had been the real leader; the glue.
"Twenty-seven years was plenty of time to get our shit together," he says with a little laugh. "So it'd be nice to meet up occasionally somewhere else. Throw a beach bonfire, get wasted and talk about politics or listen to one of Richie's sets, like we'll even get the choice." A smile, tired, but warm, crosses his face.
no subject
But, just how it happened years ago, Bill makes her feel seen in a way that still takes her by surprise. Because he sees her, and he doesn't see her as weak, how she does on the worst days. He's still on her side, and she smiles as she digs out a cigarette for herself.
"You're right, we're not alone anymore." She lights her cigarette before offering to do the same for him. She takes a long drag of it like a pro, the burn of it bringing with it that familiar comfort she's used to. "For all the shit this trip brought, I'm glad we all found each other again."
Who knew, that back when they had made their pact, that it would lead to this. That it would impact their lives so deeply, that they'd be forever-changed by decisions they made at thirteen. As much as she had found herself cursing Mike for calling them, for dragging them back here and holding them to their promise, she's at least glad that they can salvage their friendship as well.
The image he paints is one that she can already see, as if the bonfire and the laugh that will accompany it are just happening a few feet away, and she smiles. "As soon as I get settled in, I think that's a hell of a way to do a housewarming party. I'm in." She flicks off the ashes over the railing, at the dirt below.
"It's crazy, isn't it?" Her eyes wander off to the town, the way it's slowly coming to life now that the sun is rising. "It's really over. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's really done."
That they're alive, she doesn't say, but it's implied. After twenty-seven years of dreaming about all of them dying, to be free from it... It's more than she had ever expected.
no subject
Maybe that's the company, maybe that's the curse of Derry finally releasing its grasp on them, but he's not sure. Either way, he takes a deep drag from the cigarette, closing his eyes against the burn before he exhales on a low chuckle.
"After all we've done in the last fuckin' week and here we are planning housewarming parties." He shakes his head, a smile on his face as he tries to reconcile the final fight and everything that lies ahead of them.
"But we did it, didn't we?" HIs voice goes quiet, almost awed by the things they've been capable of after all these years. "We had no idea why we were coming back here or what would happen, but we did it. It feels wrong to think about leaving this place after all of that. God, when we were younger I remember we couldn't wait to break those city limits, all of us, after the fight in Neibolt. Pact or not, but I always had a feeling. Couldn't really put my finger on it."
He flicks some of the ashes into the mulch below before he goes in for another drag. "Been trying to write myself to the reason all this time and didn't even realize it."
But they've all done that, in a way, haven't they? Lived their lives knowing that something was missing but never able to really place it, never able to turn around and look it in the face. "Shit, when I heard Mike on the phone that day, I thought I was having a heart attack. Couldn't say why I knew it was something serious, but I just knew."
no subject
As Bill speaks, she glances over at him. Beverly has been living with her own shadows lingering in the corners of everything she does, but she never imagined what it could have been like for them. It just never entered her mind to even consider what it could have been like for her friends, even if she dreamt about them constantly.
"The way this town had a hold on us... I don't think any of us fully realized it." She sits on the rail of the porch, turning to face him a little better. "I dreamt of all of us. Every night. And it was never... We never made it this far. We would always die, it was always so fucking bloody." And, of course, she had been right with Eddie. The grief of losing one of their best friends still feels like it crushes her chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment, but she swallows it down.
"I always defaulted it on the chaos I was living in; the somehow those dreams were a result of my subconscious or whatever psychobabble people say. But...it's weird. Now that we're on the other side, there's so much possibility, and it feels strange to think of taking that first step."
no subject
"Yeah, makes you wonder how we forgot in the first place."
Except, in a way, it doesn't. It's easy to forget the things you're afraid of, to forget what you can't quite explain. But now, with the fog of fear and desperation lifted, with so much left behind them, there's actually a road ahead. A way out.
He snubs out his cigarette on the railing with one last exhale, the nicotine doing something to clear his thoughts. That, or it's Bev. She'd always been the level-headed, strong-willed one when they were younger. Brighter than any shadow that tried to swallow her whole. "Well, you don't have to take it alone."
And maybe that's too daring, what with everything waiting for them beyond Derry, the pieces of their lives they'll have to try and make sense of again. "It's a long drive from here to California. Guess I could always fly, but I don't know, think the journey might be good. Maybe help me come up with a decent ending for my books for once." A huff. God, he hopes Mike is around to rib him about that for years to come. "But I could give you a lift. At least as far as Chicago. And it'd break up the monotony of it all for me. If you're interested. Bored enough, even."
A shrug, a smile. "It still feels like a dream, doesn't it?"