𝔸 ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝔹𝕪 𝔸𝕟𝕪 𝕆𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖 - reddie

#𝟙𝟠: 𝔽𝕖, 𝔽𝕚, 𝔽𝕠, 𝔽𝕦𝕞

(Drip, drip, drip).

I would've broken the silence with a joke, in any other setting. But not now. Never with Georgie having anything to do with it. I was an asshole, sure. But I wasn't that much of an asshole.

I watched as Bill withdrew the diseased, black knife, that looked more like a venomous snake bite had injected its fangs into it. The entire sewer passage, and everyone in it, almost seemed to hold their breath. The sloshing sound that the blade seemed to make as it exited the body was enough to make anyone convulse in disgust.

A minute of quiet went by; and then it seemed to come sooner than I expected.

Bill fell to his hands and knees, dropping the knife (or throwing it, more like) into the pool of grey water, beginning to recklessly lash out the amount of tears that he had left in him. I could almost tell that crying this much would hurt his chest and stomach; he was just pushing and pulling, like a woman having a baby. Pushing and pulling his breaths. Pushing and pulling the pain.

Upon seeing this, Mike dropped onto his own knees beside Bill to comfort him, wrapping one arm over his shoulders gently. He ran his fingers lightly over the sides of his arm, in the way you would relax a sobbing child. "It's alright, man.. you avenged him, okay? He's avenged. He can rest soundly now. You hear me, Big Bill?"

Ben cautiously approached the two, kneeling down on his legs and wrapping his arm over the other side of Bill, his hand meeting the corner of Mike's elbow. Beverly joined, crouching behind Bill and resting her head on the crook of his back. 

Eddie still had his hand clutched tightly onto my shirt, probably from the nerves. I didn't mind it, though; it made me feel protected. I decided to walk relatively slow so that Eddie could maintain his grasp, as we joined the collective embrace. Eddie slid one hand over Ben's back and cradled the group in some way; and I just rested my head on Eddie's shoulder. It was warm, despite how shaky it was. It was home.

This was home. My friends. Eddie. Sharing pain. Sharing feelings. Sharing regret, and sharing wishes. Just like it had always been. We were older, we were wiser, we were more uptight now. But in this hug that we shared with Bill and his faltering hatred towards past mistakes, we were young, and we were stupid, and we were carefree.

"You're a good brother, Bill," Beverly dropped her voice to a small, wavering whisper. I could assume that this was probably because she was so close to all of ours ears. It was also because she sounded like she was going to cry again. "Georgie is proud of you, somewhere."

Bill sniffed, wiping his eyes and burying his sweaty, tear-stained face into his hands. It almost seemed like he was more flexible to talk about his brother now that he had some form of closure in his life. He just needed that sense of understanding before truly starting the mourning process; and seeing Georgie, in that state, must have rewound the whole clock for Bill.

However, finishing the job himself seemed to satisfy him. I was almost certain he felt better, but it was all hitting him in every place, all at once. And you better fucking believe it was overwhelming.

Pennywise wasn't dead, at least not yet. But Bill severely injured the beast. He had added to the impurities of the monster who had murdered his only sibling. And I'm sure it felt great to do so, but now he was ready to kill It for real. He was ready to watch Its whole world crash and burn.

Hurting It was enough for now, though; that was all he could take, especially in a form like that. It was almost as if Bill had closed the storybook on Georgie Denborough. He had signed it and slid it back into the bookshelf. The last word of the page. The end.