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Chapter Text

((Robbie's POV))

It was the first day of summer. That's when all our parents announced they were leaving. School was finally out and now we had 12 weeks, three whole months, to do whatever the hell we wanted. I was on the couch when our, me and Ryan's, parents told us they heading out. Ryan sat on the floor reading some dumb book on bugs or something.

"Robbie, you're in charge" Papa, though his real name is Edward Kaspbrak (and I thank God they didn't give me his last name), said, pointing his finger at us. Dad (I grew out of calling him "Daddy") was shuffling around the house making sure they didn't leave anything " No opening these doors without calling, no leaving through these doors without calling, or unless you're walking the dog, even still call me if you need to, and definitely no people over, understand?"

I looked up from channel surfing to look him in eye. He gave me that stare. The "You better understand or I'll disown you" stare. What most call the Mother stare. I huffed and shrugged, nodding my head and continuing to flick though the channels.

"We'll be gone for two weeks, I'm sure you're capable of holding this house down while we're gone"if, Hellraiser?" Dad said, ruffling my hair, making me grunt. He slung a duffle bag over his shoulder, holding a suitcase in the other hand "Don't do drugs or anything"

"Uhhh-huh" I groaned, putting my chin onto my palm, holding myself on the armrest.

"We love you" Papa said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I pushed back, putting my hands up in defense. He shrugged and went to kiss Ryan on the floor, who took it like the baby he is. Dad went outside and started up the car, and Papa followed after saying, "Bye, boys, please...be safe"

As soon as the door shut, I jumped up from the couch, swinging my legs off the side. I stood at the window, watching as they turned out the driveway. They waved goodbye and then they were off. Riding away, away, away...

Once I knew they were for certainly gone, I turned around and made my way to the house phone. I could feel Ryan's little beady eyes on me, so I turned around to him. I wiggled my nose his way, and assertively pointed from him to the dog, our fluffy little Pomeranian, Goody, then his leash.

He groaned and got up, snatching up the leash and connected it to his collar. He yipped at him in a "hurry up" manner, and spun in a circle. He groaned again and opened the front door, slamming it shut as he left.

I chuckled and dialed up Clare's number. The phone rang for a moment before her peachy voice rang through the phone.

"Hello, Clare Marsh-Hanscom speaking" She said then heard my laugh, her voice automatically changing to a rougher one "Your parents gone, too?"

"I wouldn't be calling if they weren't" I cackled, grinning like an idiot. "Round up the group?"

"Meet at your's?" She confirmed, "On it. Bye, Robbie"

"Bye, Resse" I said, hanging up the phone. I slid my socks on the slick wooden floorboards, gliding into the kitchen. I spun and swiped some chips from the cabinet. Any other time, usually when my parents were home, I'd pour them in a bowl. But they weren't home.

I sat on top of the counter, digging my fingers into the cheesy orange puffs and tossing them into my mouth. After a few minutes Ryan came back, taking the dog from his leash and putting it away.

"Why are you on the counter?" He hounded me, furrowing his brows like Papa's. Ryan, the world's most annoying brother. Such a rule follower, such a buzzkill.

"Cuz I wanna, Dirtface" I stuck my tongue out at him, flicking a cheese puff at him. It hit his neck and fell to the ground. He grimaced, and picked it up throwing it in the trash.

"Put that in a bowl" He complained, "Papa always says to put it in a bowl, you know this"

"Whatever" I said getting off the counter, and bumping him with my hip as I pasted. He wobbled and nearly toppled over, grabbing the counter for support.

The doorbell rang and I rushed to open it, swinging it open happily. The group all stood at the door, Clare and her bright orange hair front and center. She grinned and gave me a hug as I let everyone inside. Jesse dapped me up, bumping his shoulder against mine, and Junior, gave me a high five. Bella simply pushed past in her normal firey nature. Jack came in and waved to Ryan, who smiled quickly before giving me a look. An annoying one.

"Papa and Dad, both said not to let anyone in" he grumbled, stomping his foot as we all made our way to the couch. Jesse, Ben and I sat on its cushions, while Clare sat on the ground.

"Well, they aren't here, doofus" I rolled my eyes, licking my fingers clean of the cheese dust, and wiping the rest on my shirt. "Go play with Jack and Bella or something"

"You aren't the boss" Ryan said, waving for Jack and Bella to come to him room. The door shut closed and and I rolled my eyes again

I looked at them all again, my grin reappearing. My friends. The Losers 2.0. That's what we called ourselves. It wasn't my choice. Dad had joked about it first, then it past to Aunt Bev and Uncle Ben, then to all the adults, then back to us. At first we hated the nickname, but after a bit it, stuck to us too. I never understood it, since our parents met from all being, well, losers. We met because our parents were best friends and we couldn't not be friends, too. But either way, we kept it.

"So?" Junior asked, trying to hide his smile. He looked around the group as well, and we each made eye contact trying not to laugh.

"So?" Clare repeated, followed by Jesse's flat voice.

"So, what are we doing today?" I asked, putting my hands in my lap like we were at a meeting. "First day of summer, the day that determines how great our summer will be. Any suggestions?"

Jesse's beefy arm shot up, and waved in the air "Oh, we could binge watch a bunch of movies. Order pizza"

"Mmm, nah. Too...cliché. Come on, guys! Think bigger!" I said rising from the couch, putting my hands on my hips " 2 weeks our parents are gonna be gone! We get 2 whole weeks to just go bat shit crazy, and you guys wanna eat pizza and watch movies we've seen before?"

"Hmm, you're right..." Clare nodded, putting her index and thumb fingers on her chin, tapping it. "Think, think, think...We could, uh, sneak into the pool? "

"We can do better" I nodded, and gestured to Junior to give an idea. He looked at us and bit his lip a bit.

"Well, Umm, we could, uhh" He hummed, "Well, I don't... got anything"

"Well, I do" I boasted, putting my finger into the air. I had the perfect place to go. A good, no, great, jumpstart to our summer "The old Neibolt house"

"That beat up thing?" Junior asked, scrunching his face up in a bit of concern "I heard some things about that place"

"Me too" Clare and Jesse nodded

"They say it's haunted" He said, looking at Junior

"And that somebody died in their back in the day" Clare added, picking at her multicolored nails. "If there is a dead body or something, I wanna see it. We could tell the press and be famous"

"Robbie G's already famous" Jesse jokes, jutting his nose my way. I cross my arms at him, and roll my eyes once again.

It was technically true. My dad was quite famous for stand-up comedy. He used to take us, even the Losers 2.0 on his tours. His fans knew about Papa and Ryan and I, but they didn't know our names. You know, to keep us safe and stop paparazzi from heckling us on the street. Even still sometimes, someone's kid will come up and hug me, or a random woman would wave my way excitedly. I was mildly okay with the press and photos and stuff. It was the suits and hair sprays we had to wear during shows that got me. Apparently, you can't wear pajama and a tux to a proformace, according to Papa.

"Shut it, the fame'll get to your heads" I barked playfully, shaking my head "Seriously, though guys. Are we going?"

"I dunnooo..." Junior shrugged, "Any other stories? Motivation? I mean, I don't wanna exactly see a dead body, dude"

"Weeell, I heard that back in the 80s, like when our parents were kids, a group of kids when in and came out all covered and dirt and muck and gross. One of them broke their arm! No one knows who they were, but they're totally legends now" I shouted with excitement "Some people say some of the kids disappeared, never seen again. Just gone"

"Disappeared?" Clare said, wide eyed. She was definitely even more intrigued. She was like the detective of the group. She was always trying to find out something new. A missing kid from over a decade ago was right up her alley. "I'm totally in"

"A broken arm? What, they fall through the floor or something?" Jesse asked, rubbing his own arm. Jesse liked getting hurt, for some reason. He even kept a log book on his injuries. Well, Papa had one for us too, but not like his. Ours was for medical purposes, his was like a badge of honor. And he loved earning knew badges. "I'll go too"

"What about you, Junior? Do you wanna?" I ask looking at him

"Finneeee" he groans, probably feeling pressured to say yes too. Plus, I knew I wanted to see the inside just like the rest of us "But what about the...little ones?"

I shrugged, "what about'em? They can come too"

"Yeah, my dads said I have to be by Jack at all times" said Jesse, "Can't leave him by himself, at all"

"We promised Uncle Mike we'd watch Bells" Clare admitted, gesturing between her and Junior "So, she kinda has to come too"

"Still fine. I said they could come" I swatted the problem away

We each nodded, and smiled. We were totally hyped at the thought. The broken down Neibolt house. We could get our names connected to it's name too. Become one of the stories kids in the future would tell. But instead of fleeing like babies, we'd come out brand spanking new. Cooler. Way cooler than the kids at our school. And i could be known for something other than being Richie Toizer's son. None of the punks at school would dare to go inside. Because this is Derry, and hardly anything ever happens in this town. Until us...

Chapter Text

We had took our bikes over. Jessie and Jack on one, Ryan on his own, Junior and Clare on their skateboards, and Bella her's bike following behind us. We hadn't told the younger kids where we were going, mainly because I know Ryan would have thrown a fit if he did. Hell, he'd probably bitch about once he did.

It was reaching night, yet the sun was still in the sky. 8:02, my wristwatch read. Our bed time was 9:30. So that was about an hour to search around before any of our parents called. I prayed none of our parents called in between that time either.

As we made our way to Neibolt Street, the house started to come into view. I looked back at the Losers, who each sported big smirks of their own. I could hear them chattering behind me about what could be in there as we pulled up, dropping our bikes right in the yard. My chest tightened as we stared at the house.

It was extremely dirty, it's front caked in black. Vines grew from the ground around it, like it was trying to eat the house itself. The front porch almost gave a preview of what was more than likely on the inside too: broken and nearly rotted wood. Some of the windows were boarded up, though some hung loose over the years of standing. Maybe it was lovely house when they built it. Now, it was practically dead.

"Why are we stopping here?" Ryan questioned looking around, then at the close to falling apart house "We should be heading home in time for bed "

"We aren't stopping" I clarified, coming up to the houses front steps. I put my hand on the rails, only to remove it from all the dirt and grit on it. My fingers were nearly black, before I wiped them onto my shirt "We're going in"

"No, we aren't!" he shouted, looking towards my face them the boarded up windows "This place is a death wish! It's litterally screaming death"

"No, it's not...pussy" I snorted, making his face fall. Everyone's head snapped my way. I was surprised by their faces, because they had heard me curse before. We had all cursed..

I took a step onto the first step, my shoe hitting the wood slowly. I slowly crept up the rest and tried at the doors knob. It, thankfully, opened and the door swung with a groan, it's hinges squealing from finally being used. I took the flashlight I had instructed everyone to take from my pocket, clicking it on.

It was even dirtier inside. Their were so many webs everywhere, you would have thought Spider-Man lived here. Spider-Man and his whole family. I coughed a bit, feeling some pat on my back. I quickly turned to see Clare, looking around too.

"Woah..." She said

"Damn right" Jesse nodded, mouth open as everyone else's lights flashed on

"Fuckin' gnarly" Junior said running his fingers on the wall, and rubbing them off, watching the dust fly.

"No, no, no!" Ryan begins, shaking his finger "No! This. This right here! This place is falling apart! Literally! We should be showering up and going to bed right now!"

"I'm the oldest" I asserted, turning toward him. I leaned forward and put my face in front of his, trying to intimidate him "Dad and Papa said I was in charge. We're staying here, and we're looking through this house. End"

I felt Ryan huff and he looked down to his sneakers. I turned back around and we continued on. The rest of the house was just the same, dusty and creaking. The walls were rickety. The stairs were rickety. Each step we took was imprinted on the ground. So far, nothing seemed to be interesting. A rotting bed in bedroom. A nasty toilet in a bathroom. Underneath it all was a truly torn apart space with a well.

We rushed up to the brick structure looking inside. I shined my light down into its hole, only for it to shine down into nothing. Pitch black. I looked around for something to go down with. A old rope was on the ground. So, I picked up.

"What are you doing?" Clare questioned as I tossed the rope to Jesse, since he was the biggest body mass wise, and tying a good amount around my waist.

"I'm going down. We've come to far to go back with nothin' to show" I say looking into the hole again "There's could be something down there worth...something"

"Robbie... " Jesse started, but I shook my head. I climbed onto the edge, taking a deep breath. "Be careful"

I slowly let him inch me down. I was gripping that old rope with my whole being. Even my pinkie toe nails. As I was lowered, I held my flashlight up shining it around the cramped circular brick wall.

Somewhere down, I came right in front of a hole in the wall of the well. It was circular, too, and wide. Wide enough for a kid. It looked wet and seemed to lead into a large opening. I let out a breath, and clenched my jaw.

"Guys! There's something!" I call out, turning my head back up to them "I going in, but I might have to untie the rope"

I could feel their silence. It was loud enough to say how scared they were at the idea. I could practically hear their thoughts. He's gonna what? Little did they know, I was dead scared too.

"Dude..." Junior yelled down, looking a bit worried. Or at least I think it was. "If you're going, I am too."

"That's risky as hell" Clare sighed into the well, and scratched the back of her head "I'm coming down too."

I nodded to myself and put hands on the rope are my waist. I pushed myself the back wall and swung into the open hole. Once I was sat enough, I untied the knot, shaking a bit. "A-Alright, come down, guys..."

It took a moment but Junior came down, repeating my steps. Push. Swing. In the hole. Then Clare. Push. Swing. In the hole. We slowly moved, our fingers and knees slipping slightly on whatever was in the small tunnel.

Nothing could prepare us for what we were met with once we were fully inside. A tower of toys and junk and trash, piled, miles high. I mean, high. It was almost scary. The air was damp, and water crept into my shoes like ants. I groaned internally and looked at the other to who seemed just as weirded out.

"What the hell..." Clare breathed out, moving forward. Her feet sloshed through the water, making ripples around her ankles. "Is this the sewer?"

"Smells like it" Junior gagged, putting his shirt over his nose. He was right. It stunk, like shitty underwear or Dad's gym closes after working out. Like, dead...everything.

I looked around and turned my head to the left, noticing another well like thing. Only this was wider and the edge was more flat. I stepped over to it in my soaked shoes, feeling it squish between my toes. 9:00. 30 minutes till bed.

I go over to the pile of junk and pick up a little toy train, before returning to the new hole. I dropped the toy into the vast emptiness. I was expecting it to keep going, to never hit the bottom. But it did. You could hear it hit against something. Klur-tunk.

I tilt my head over the edge, kneeling down in front of it, holding it for support. I grunted and turned my head towards the other two behind me.

"Welp, we don't have another rope." I sighed, "Guess, we should just go ba-"

KRUR-ISHH! What the fuck was that? I scream and attempt to run but I fall. Right into the disgusting water on the ground. Something his holding me, I kick and thrash. My left leg is doing it's job, but my right wasn't. It was slower than usual.

Whatever grabbed hold of me let go and I pushed myself up. We all ran off to the first tunnel and rushed through it. My leg burned like lava. I could hardly even muster up the energy to jump. I almost slipped, letting out a yelp as Jesse, and what seemed to be the younger kids too, pulled us up.

I limped away from the well, finally looking at my leg. It was a bite mark. Red and gleaming with blood. Whatever bit me got right down to the white meat, and even scraped itself along said bite marks. Somehow, by looking at the wound, it made it hurt worse. I felt like crying, but weirdly I didn't. I kept going up the stairs, my friends calling out behind me. I couldn't hear them. Run. That's what my mind was telling me over their voices. Run, you stupid cunt, Run! I couldn't catch my breath, like my breath was running too.

I was right in front of the door. Right there. Then all of a sudden

CRRAACCK...CRUNCHHH!!

Chapter Text

((Robbie's POV))

Black...

That's all I could see...

Was I under the house?...

Where am I?...

No, this was darker than just under the house...

WHERE AM I?!!

I couldn't move. It was like someone stapled me to the ground and poured cement all over my body. I tried to wiggle free, but my body didn't wanna listen.

I could move my face, and that was it. Just my face. I couldn't see shit, so what good were my eye? I couldn't hear shit, so what good were my ears? My lips, those bitches parted like Moses parted the seas.

"HEEEELP!!!" I choked out. I was crying. Snot-bubble crying. Red, puffy eyes crying. I could feel the tears rolling down the side of my face and onto the ground. I could hear them making puddles by my ears. My voice was scratchy, like a cat post "PLEEEASEEE!!"

All of a sudden, all the breath leaves my lungs. Now, I've had asthma attacks in the past, but this was nothing like it. It was a different kind of suffocating. Like, the cement had made it's way into my throat and dried there, too. I gagged, my body jerking as it tried to catch the air. This isn't even pain, this is what dying feels like. And it's been going on for what feels like an eternity. Dying for an eternity.

I wanna scream. I can't. I wanna see. Can't. I wanna breathe. Not looking to good...

My vision, even, in the dark, was getting fuzzy. Somehow, I couldn't even see the dark. No one had ever died from a asthma attack, had they? If not, why me? I bully my brother. Who hasn't bullied their siblings? Do I talk back to our parents? When it's called for, but I've seen worse. I've done nothing worth dying for. Especially, not this young.

I'm just about to die, or at least I feel like I am, when I start hearing things. Giggles, laughs. Who's laughing at this? My friends? Why aren't they helping? Someone shouts. But not a "Let's help him" shout. Something angry. With a deep jab into my side right with it. How are you angry if I'm dying? I close my eyes, being forced to choke to death, being forced to be laughed at as I go. I can feel it slipping away, then finally I heard sharp, loud, and right next to my ear:

Get ready to float, Robbie

((Ryan's POV))

I told him not to go in the house. I would have told him not to go in the well. What would Papa say? Two weeks? Knowing Robbie he'll lie to them when they call. Say everything's fine. The rest of them will, too. No we're fine, Robbie didn't jump into a well. Robbie didn't tear his leg open. I told them not to go inside.

I watched as Jesse, Ben and Clare pulled him from the crack in the floor. Jesse had him by his shoulders, and the siblings had him at each arm. They dragged him out the house, and Jack hurriedly shut the door as if something else would have happened if he didn't.

We all sat around Robbie who wasn't moving. Clare slapped his face first. Don't play now, Robbie. Next, everyone was slamming their fingers and palms into his body. Clare started crying first. This really isn't funny, Robbie. Now, everyone was scared and crying. Except me. This had to be a joke. He wasn't dead...he couldn't be.

"Move, gosh darn it!" I said kicking his side, the tip of my sneakers hitting this shirt with a thump. My put my hand on each temple, breathing heavily. Breathing...

I snag my inhaler from my pocket. Papa instructed both of us to have them at all times. Just in case. This seems like a pretty big case. I kneel down over him, sticking the the plastic in between his chapped lips. I press the button at the top firmly, hearing the release of pressure.

Robbie jolts up, quickly clutching against my and Clare's shirts. He looks scared. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's gasping hard. We help him sit up and he takes huge breaths, holding onto his chest. He looks around, as if he forgot where he was and asked what time it was.

I checked my watch. "9:16"

They all collectively curse. We help Robbie off the ground, but he nearly collapses again and groans towards his leg. It's bad. I know something got him down in the well, but he must have cut it more when he fell. The wound was jagged and fleshy, like in a zombie flick. It was like one big bite mark, with little micro bites along it, and they were deep and dragged out.

I tossed his arm over my shoulder and sat him on my bike; He wouldn't have been able to ride his with his calf all like that. Clare picked up his discarded bike and held onto it as we rode back to our house. We all silently decided to stay together, probably out of worry for Robbie's mangled leg.

"S...speed up..." I heard Robbie groan on my back. I huffed and kicked my feet harder, pedaling a bit faster.

We quickly got into the house, leaving our bikes out in the yard and shutting the door. Jack rushed to our bathroom closet and got out some towels, spreading them on the floor. I laid Robbie down, balling up a towel and placing it under his ankle, using it to level out his bleeding leg. He was wincing, and kept trying to sit up to look at the wound. Ben raided the cabinets for one of Papa's many first aid kits. Everyone was yelling at each other, no body really sure what they were supposed to do.

Clare was aggressively dabbing at the wound with a wet towel, making Robbie cry out. I ask her what she was doing, trying to stop her hands. She shouted that she didn't know and threw her towel down, standing up with her hands on her head. I snatched the towel up, pressing it down more gently. Jack filled a mop bucket with water and placed it beside me. I nodded in thanks and dipped the towel in, washing of some of the crimson stain cloth into the cold water.

Everything was a whirlwind of chaos and confusion, A group of teens a moment of children way out of their leagues. It seemed like I was the only one, besides Jack, who somewhat knew what they were doing. My brother, my rude, ungrateful older brother was lying on the floor, with a wounded leg. Our friends were around us, but no one was getting along, figurative and literal. I'm just about to snap when in between it, the worst sound of all cut through:

Ring-Ring....Ring-Ring

Chapter Text

((Ryan's POV))

The whole room quieted, no moved a muscle. I edged towards the phone, pointlessly putting a finger to my lips to shush the already silent group behind me. I reached for the phone, gulping a big breath as I answered. Papa's voice came through the other end, asking if we were alright. I turned to Robbie.

"Yes, sir" I lied. I should have said that my reckless older brother had gotten bit by a giant something, and was now bleeding on a bunch of towels and probably staining the carpet. I should have said that my incredibly stupid brother was now half conscious due to blood loss in our living room. But I didn't. I lied. "The gang came over and they're staying the night"

Papa tells me that we should have called about it sooner because all the parents were calling their kids. He says we should have already been in bed, but he doesn't mind because it's summer. He asks if Robbie can come to the phone. I turn to Robbie again. "He's in the shower..."

Papa asks me to tell him that he and Dad love him, and he and Dad love me, and he and Dad love both of us. He blows a kiss though the phone, and tells me to makes sure everyone is going to sleep at a reasonable time. "Alright, Bye..."

I let Papa hang up the phone and put it back in it's holder. When I turn back around, everyone's eyes were on me. Even Robbie's. I came back up and sat by him, calmly trying to instruct everyone on how to help. I tell Ben to warm up a towel and get Jesse to help him. Clare gets up and gets him a water bottle from the fridge, carefully tipping it to his lips. The others stand back.

Ben put the the warm towel on Robbie's forehead as I gave all my attention to dressing up the wound. The length of the phone call must have taken a toll on Robbie's blood flow, because he looked hardly awake. He'd blink, look around, then close his eyes and stay like that for a moment. Blink, look, close, stay. Repeat.

Once the marks were as clean as I could make them, I tied his bandage up as tight as it could stretch. He groaned and winced, which was good, in a way. It showed he wasn't severely drained. As soon as I finished, I helped him sit up, propping his back up on the couch.

"You okay?" I ask, and he nods. Ben warms and places the towel. Clare gave him some water.

((Robbie's POV))

Mentally, my head was light. I could hardly think a simple sentence before it blew away. Physically, that shit was heavier than a rock. I could feel Ryan's little grimmy hand holding the back of my head, keeping it up right.

Even though my brain was foggy, the words that were whispered in my ear stuck. Get ready to float, Robbie. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Like in a pool? Like a balloon? Why did I have to get ready? Was it a threat or a warning? And no body but my friends and family called me Robbie. So, who was in my ear like that?

Clare tried to give me water, but I swatted her hand away. She looked at me with a worried expression, setting the bottle down. Everyone was looking at me like I was an injured puppy, all sad and sympathetic. That was one face I absolutely hated to have given to me.

"You need water" Ryan informed. Mr. Know-It-All. I should have thanked him. But he didn't deserve it. He did stuff like this all the time. He got thanked all the time. Just for being smart "Water, warmth, and rest"

I was tired. Whatever light was on hurt my eyes. I was both Titanic cold and Satan's balls hot, and I couldn't find an even balance. Whatever blood I lost had took all my energy, but I could feel it slowly -like, snail slow- coming back to me.

"You sure you okay?" Jesse asked, putting his hand on my shoulder. Was I okay? I felt like I was going insane...

"Yeah, dude...I just feel a bit tired" I shrug, and attempt a joking smile "I mean, you've been worse"

"True" Jesse nodded, proudly. The fear in his eyes went away a bit. I guess it made him feel better that he could compare one of his injuries to mine and know I wasn't "too" hurt.

"Let's all get some rest" Jack commented, and Bella stood beside him holding a stack of covers and pillows, just like him.

They passed them out and we laid them down on the ground, somewhat forming an awkward curved line around me. I didn't move from my spot; the pain in my leg hurt too much. I was hoping by tomorrow that at least the stinging would go down. Everyone began saying goodnight, going on for about a minute. It was like none of us wanted to sleep, so we each called each other out individually until everyone had been wished good dreams. Then we all sat in silence.

It was hard to fall asleep. Not just because of my leg, or the fact I was sitting up. It just didn't feel like the time to go to sleep. You know, that feeling when you know it's time for bed, but you're body just doesn't want to. Like, you're still wide awake even though it's way past your bed time. I sat against the couch, staring that the ceiling because the TV felt too weird to look at in the dark.

I focused on the sounds around the room. My friend's breathing. Jesse and Bella snoring. Goody's pants as he troted from person to person, trying to see who had the most comfortable sleeping spot. I focused on the noises outside. The trees blowing in the wind. Someone far away showing off how loud they could rev their car before driving off. The barking of other dogs trying to protect their homes while their owners slept.

Slowly, but surely and a little surprisingly, I fell asleep. In bits at first, then all at once.

Chapter Text

((Robbie's POV))

Have you ever had a dream so realistic you thought it was actually happening? Like you were right there, just a touch away? That's what I was going through that night. My dream was in splits, all mashed up and they didn't make sense. I couldn't understand them at all.

The dream started with our parents when they were my age. Not just me and Ryan's, but everyone's. Aunt Beth, Uncle Ben, Uncle Stan, Uncle Bill, Uncle Mike. They were holding hands, which were bleeding. Before I could question it, I was being switched to something else.

It was me. I was watching me. And I was floating. Like, legit floating above the ground. I could hear everyone yelling for me. Switch.

I'm myself again.it's, looking through my eyes. Bright lights, and I can't see. But I can hear Papa asking someone what he could do. I could hear beeps and clicks and people talking in the back. Switch.

Papa and Dad as kids looking at something on a screen, with everyone behind them. They were scared. Everyone was scared. Was Papa's arm broken? Since when did he get hurt? Switch

Blood on the floor. Switch.

Darkness and someone is crying next to me. Switch.

Ryan looking scared and being hugged. Switch.

A bug crawling from my mouth. Switch.

Balloon. POP! Switch.

A can being crushed on a table. Switch.

Another balloon. POP! Switch.

New York. Switch

Dad and Papa arguing.

I lunge forward, looking around hurriedly. It was morning, and everyone was up. The TV was on and Flushed Away played. Ryan was making breakfast and Junior and Clare helped. They each waved good morning, and Jesse helped me up onto my feet being a sort of crutch for me.

Had all of yesterday been a dream? No, my leg was still cut and bandaged. It just felt weird that everyone was up and talking as if we hadn't started our summer off terribly. Was one the only one worried about how yesterday would impact the next few weeks? I'm pretty sure I was.

"Robbie G!" Clare called, waving me over to the stool next to her as Ryan dished out pancakes. "Morning "

"Huh? 'Morning" I nodded, as Ryan slided a plate of four pancakes my way. I picked my fork up and poked the flapjacks, picking off a chocolate chip, waiting for him to turn around. I didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of me enjoying them

"After what happened, we were just gonna watch movies today" Clare told me, shoving pancakes into her mouth "We've gotta make sure your leg stays safe until the wound closes"

"Oh..." I sighed, forcing on a small smile. This wasn't how our summer was supposed to go at all. We weren't supposed to be trapped inside, because of a wounded leg. We were supposed to be riding our bikes and stealing popsicles from the corner store. We were supposed to be cementing our names in history. "Right..."

"Hey, it'll heal sooner than you know" Clare said reassuringly, nudging my elbow with her own "Then we can still do all the fun stuff we going to."

"Clare's right..." Ryan agrees, because of course he does, and I look at him. I look at all of them. And I'm.... angry. For the first time in ever I'm angry at all of them. Not just Ryan. I'm breathing hard, and next thing you know...

"No!" I yell, making the group turn "What the fuck! Seriously!? Are we all just gonna act like yesterday didn't happen!?"

I stand up, leaning and limping as I held onto the counter. I put my hand up in the air, shaking it with a mocking tone, taking on a higher pitched voice " 'Oh, yeah, everybody! Let's blow off the fact Robbie almost died yesterday! He's fine! Let's still around the fucking fire and fucking sing Kumbaya!' What the fuck!"

"Robbie-" Ryan began, put the spatula he used to flip the pancakes down onto the counter

"Shut up! Shut the hell up, Ryan! It's all you do! Just shut up for five fucking minutes, and s-stop spitting all that bullshit!" I snap at him, clenching my jaw "Let me speak my mind for once before you start talking about facts and shit! Let somebody have a fucking opinion! Now, can any of you guys have at least a ounce of worry about yesterday?"

Everyone just looks around. Not at me. At the floor, at the ceiling, at the spot on the carpet where I jammed gum down when I was five. But not at me. Only Goody was looking at me and that was only because I had stood and he was probably expecting to be walked. I took a breath and bit the inner side of my mouth.

"Ryan, go walk the dog..." I tell him, and he nods and grabs her leash, silently taking her out.

"I...I'm going...with... yeah" Jack mumbled, crossing over Bella to follow him out the door.

"Jack-" Jesse began, but shook his head and let him walk out.

The room stayed quiet after they left. Clare stopped eating her pancakes, and everyone looked at each other then looked away like they forgot they were in room with another person. Like I said, it was the first time I actually yelled at any of them. Hell, even I was shocked a bit. But, it was called for.

"Y'all can speak you know" I say, wiping my nose on my hand, trying to find anything to do with it "Listen, I'm sorry. But...I fell through the floor. And something bit me? I just hoped someone would be worried, I dunno..."

"Robbie, we are worried." Clare said, "Dead scared. Robbie, we couldn't feel you breathing yesterday, of course, we're worried"

"But we're also kids..." Bella said putting a fork full of pancake in her mouth and shrugging

"Right, I don't know how to handle trauma" Jesse says putting his hands over his heart "I thought I lost my best friend! "

Junior leaned forward, looking more fear-stricken than anyone "And imagine having to explain it to your parents... that you...like that..."

"So, yes, we're worried, and the only way we knew how counter balance it was with movies" Clare nodded, looking me in the eye and putting a hand on my shoulder.

"And pancakes" Ryan said as he returned with Goody and Jack.

"And pancakes..." Junior repeated, half-heartedly, "Really good pancakes

I took another breath, calming myself down. I was being kind of...self-centered thinking I was the only person who cared. Thinking that my best friends of more years than I can count on one hand wouldn't have cared.

I opened my arms up and the Losers 2.0 came up and hugged me, being as careful as they could about my leg. They whispered reassurances and apologies, not just to me, but among all of us. And just that quick, we were a little less tense and not as worried as before.

" Now, eat up" Clare grinned, sliding my plate back to me "He makes them like Uncle Richie"

Chapter Text

((Ryan's POV))

I was the one tending to Robbie's wound. I didn't want to, especially after the rant he had went on the day after the Neibolt break-in. But no one else but Jack knew how to dress the wound properly, and knowing Robbie he'd feel uncomfortable with him doing it. After about three or four days of healing, it was already looking more like a scar from years back than something that happened just days ago.

Robbie shrugged it off. Like he does with everything. A burn? He shrugs it off. The time he scraped his knee falling off a scooter? Shrugged it off. That year he forgot his floaties and nearly drowned in the pool? You can guess how he reacted. He doesn't worry about things like healing. He's more worried about how long before he can get up and start moving again. I told him once, and that was it. If he was going to worry, I wasn't either.

((Robbie's POV))

The weirdest thing about my healing process was how quick it went by. For how deep my cut was, the wound was closing pretty fast. Maybe it was the God's way of saying I could still rule the summer. But, oddly, I didn't really feel like ruling summer anymore. I was sluggish and I was constantly thirsty. Like a sack of meat.

My dreams didn't let up either. They were still weird and sketchy. Nothing ever made sense, no matter how many times I tried to piece them together. And they were always the same. The same switches. The same random splices. I didn't tell anyone... I didn't want them to get anymore worried. Or get as confused about them as me. I was at least gonna wait until I understood them first, if I ever could.

The other weird thing was...well, I'm not sure how to put it. I saw...things. I'd round the corner from my room and see someone run past, only for no one to be there. Someone not to far off who caught my eye for a split second before they were gone again

Once, when I looked in the mirror after a bath, I could have sworn my mouth turned to a smile when I swear to God I wasn't. I jumped back, nearly hitting the wall, and closed my eyes, and by the time I looked back it went away. Still scared me.

The Losers 2.0 came over daily. I'm pretty sure they would have never left, if it wasn't more me telling them they could go. Sometimes I wonder if I kept them by my side the whole time we wouldn't have had to go through as much as we did. It think because how often me and Ryan fought when we where alone made everything worse.

I sat on the couch, propping my leg on the armrest, occasionally twisting it to get some feeling. I would watch a minute or two of the movie or show on TV before changing the channel, eventually just setting on some infomercial about something I couldn't really care about. I was about to just turn the TV off when I started hearing things. Someone snickering and whispering something. At first, i thought it was the TV, but it sounded too close. Too real. Not something that came from the TV speakers.

"Cut it out, Ryan" I groaned, chalking it up to him being a weirdo, per usual. The whispering and giggling continued and I rolled my eyes, repeating, "Cut it! You aren't funny!"

I sat up from my spot, looking down the dark of the hallway. Nothing. I got up and limped towards Ryan's room, grumbling about how annoying having a little brother was. I pushed open his door, getting ready to scold him. But as I opened the door, something was hovering over him. Like Peter Pan's shadow. Only the shape of a clown.

The shadows eyes gleamed, like little lights, and it smiled. I don't understand how but it's lips curled up and it even pressed a finger over its...lips, I guess. The shadow clown pulled Ryan'd cover back and began lift him up by the middle of his shirt like he was in some demented magic show. I wanted to scream out to him, to tell him something, that whatever it was, was trying to hurt him. But again, I couldn't move. Frozen Solid.

"Go count, Robbie" the Shadow told me and pushed me down, slamming Ryan's door in my face. It ripped my shirt somehow, jagged claw marks slashed into the fabric.

The next thing I heard was a crash and Ryan yell. I tried to open the door but it was locked, and banged on it with my fist, jiggling the handle. After a bit it gave away and I stumbled through the door to see Ryan clutching his side and curled up on the floor. The shadow clown threw him onto his desk, a metal thing he insisted on thrifting littered with pencils and papers and pens that were now scattered on the ground with him.

Up on the walls was written, like someone carved it out with a knife: "Ready or not..."

"Ryan!" I say, quickly flicking on the lights and attempting to help him up, sitting him on his bed. His face was already forming a bruise and I know it would start to swell. "Come on..."

I lead him to the kitchen and he sat down at the counter as I got him some ice from the fridge, putting it in a grocery bag and tying it up before handing it to him. He put it to his eye and cheek, wincing.

"Did...did you see it?" I asked him, leaning on the fridge

"What?" He asked, pressing the ice down harder

I thought about it for a moment "What threw you. I saw it. "

"And you didn't help?"

"I couldn't move, asshead"

"What was it..."

"A shadow. Or, no, a clown"

Ryan looked at me with an unimpressed look. I groaned and put my hands over my face for a moment. Of course he didn't believe me. Ryan learned from a young age to believe in facts. Everything he did was based on facts and stats, or the probability. I think he got it from Papa. So, of course, there was no way he was gonna believe a shadow OR a clown threw him across his room. But what else could he believe? It was only us here.

((Ryan's POV))

I was not going to believe a shadow, or a clown, threw me into my desk. I glared at him through my good eye and the little slit that was slowly closing under swollen skin. I'm not an idiot. There wasn't chance a shadow threw me, and how would a clown get in the house? But, what else could have done it? Robbie...wouldn't?

"Robbie, be serious" I sighed, shaking my head at him

"I am serious!" He defended, grabbing my wrist again and hobbled back to my room "Just Loo-"

"If you're trying to be funny, or prove a point-"

"It was right there, I swear" he shouted, pointing to the wall above my bed. "Right fucking there! 'Ready or not', I saw it!"

"Robbie, are you okay?" I asked, looking him up and down. Ever since the bite and break in, he's been different. Jumpy. Distracted. I could hear him get up every night, at the latest hour. Whispering, just making noises.

"I... I'm not fucking crazy!" He said, pushing past me and back into his room, closing it with a bang, leaving me alone and confused

I shrugged and laid back down. But I couldn't sleep, not because I was scared of being thrown again. Because I felt like I was being watched. We were all being watched...

Chapter Text

((Robbie's POV))

I felt like I was dying. Not in the way like under the house. It was more of a sick kind of dying. After seeing the shadow in Ryan's room, After seeing that message on the wall, my body felt wrong. Like, this wasn't it. Like it didn't belong to me. Like something wasn't right inside of me, but I couldn't figure it out. But I did figure one thing out. I was gonna tell the Losers. It's their right to know, especially if anything happens to me.

I just don't want them to be afraid...

"Robbie!" Clare said as Ryan opened the door, rushing to my side on the couch "Oh, my god, you look...Robbie, are you okay?"

"I...I don't know, Reese" I mumbled, leaning my head on her shoulders. I hadn't slept at all that night, and if I could have, I would have planned on it. "I don't know.."

"Ryan told us...about what you saw?" said Junior, coming up with Jesse. Jack and Bella stayed by Ryan, with equally concerned faces.

"I don't know what I saw" I shook my head, "But I know something, or someone, threw Ryan"

They all looked at Ryan who shook his head too, nodding his head back to me. I shrugged weakly, before getting the worst lurch in my stomach. I immediately shot up and ran to the bathroom, hanging over the sink.

BLECH!

Black sludge coated the sink, thick and slimy. The Losers all looked from the bathroom door, and before I could say anything, another round came up. My eyes watered, and my throat burned. It felt my body was being poured out, like everything in me was striping me dry. My lungs, my heart, my guts. Everything felt like it was pulling itself through my sink.

After another few rounds, it stopped. But I was still breathless. Still slobbing and drooling, no matter as many times I wiped my mouth.

"I'm okay, guys, I'm f-"

((Ryan's POV))

Robbie drops to the floor, mid-sentence, his head thumped against the cold tile of our bathroom hard enough to either leave a dent in the floor or leave a dent in his skull. Clare, Ben, Jesse, and Bella each pushed past, coming to lift his head up. Ben called his name, patting his cheek with the back of his hand. The three told Bella to get back and Jack and I to move out of the way, as they pulled to the couch.

We all sat watched him for sometime, mostly biting our nails and lips, waiting for him to get up. Although he doesn't get up, he starts...mumbling.

"I know your secret" he mutters, "I know.... all your secrets...we can..play... A game?"

I looked at everyone, but they were too focused on Robbie to look back. Clare asked what he was talking about, even though he probably couldn't hear. He still continued on.

"We...can play...a game....hide...and go...seek...all...you gotta do... is come...and find me..."

"What?" I whisper to myself, as I feel a freezing chill run down my neck. I slowly turn around see Robbie peeking out from behind the hallway wall.

Only it's not Robbie. Robbie's cheeks can't form a smile that high even if he tried. Robbie's hair isn't orange or anything near it. Robbie's eyes don't glow. And Robbie's on the couch. I see the rest of them turn back too, only more quickly. I could hear Clare gasp from beside me. The Not-Robbie put a single finger to his lips, a crooked and broken one, then pointed behind us. To the real Robbie.

We each turned back around, almost in sync, to a fully sat up Robbie. Yet, his eyes were still closed and his face was pulled into a smile as far as it could. Then it fell.

"I said 'Ready...OR NOT'!" he screamed, banging on the cushions of the couch at each word. After "Not", he began beating more violently and feverishly, just...screaming.

Then he stopped. Dropped back down like a rag doll. And after a few seconds, he woke up like nothing happened.

((Robbie's POV))

I was in the dark again, just like in the Neibolt house.

Only I wasn't as stuck, or alone. Nope, A (maybe) six foot clown stood in front of me, just a few feet away, with hair as bright and big fire and eyes as yellow as a cats. In between two fingers, he held a bright red balloon. He tried to offer it to me, but I shook my head.

" I know your secrets " the clown says in this voice that sounded like someone was shaking him, or like he was extremely cold. He said he knew all my secrets, and that we could play a game.

Suddenly, we were in front of the Neibolt house. He told me he wanted to play hide and seek, and that I'd have to find him. This creepy ass clown, standing in front off one of the worst houses in our town, is asking me to play hide and seek? I shook my head again, declining the offer. No, thanks Mr. Clownman.

His face began to fall from the creepy, sadistic smile he held up. And it wasn't slow. It was like someone flicked a switch on his face muscles. One that would change a face in seconds. He began hopping and shouting and banging on his thighs like a child, screaming about how he said ready or not, before he ran into the house behind him.

I sat up, holding my forehead, swaying slightly. My cheeks burned. Worse than when Dad used to pinch them because we wouldn't listen. By "we", I mainly mean me.

All of the Losers looked at me in a crazed way. Like had took a bite out of my arm and declared myself Hannibal Lector. Like I wasn't Robert-Gray Tozier, the boy who used to be scared of worms.

" What? " I said lowly, running my hand down the side of my face. When I spoke, they almost flinched.

"Robbie..." Ryan said with wide eyes, "We...We saw some stuff too"

"The clown?" I asked

"You...?" He shrugged

"You.... were over there " Jack continues, pointing to the hallway "B-but he-here-here too. And y-you were tal-talking about-"

"Playing hide and seek" Bella interjected, her brows furrowed at Jack's stuttering (picked up from Uncle Bill) "You wanted to play a game, or something"

"No..what?" I defended, trying to sit straight "I didn't I-what? It was the clown! He said that stuff to me too! He wants us to-"

"Find him" They all say and nod, making me feel and look insane

"If this thing is real, how?" Jesse asked, which was very valid. Where does someone search for a clown? A shadow clown that makes 13 years olds look schizophrenic, at that?

"I saw him at Neibolt?" I offered, but Clare shook her head "He ran in...I didn't see anything else"

"I'd go to Hell before I let you back there, before I let any of us go back there" She disagreed, putting her hand on my shoulder, "We can browse the Internet, or go to the library first"

The group nodded and agreed, not really seeing a way out. The most we could do was research right now.