Bloody Noses & Crack'd Crowns

Chapter 1

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. All credit goes to TheWeaverofWorlds on ao3.

...this is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips
We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns...

Henry IV part I ; William Shakespeare

Bill was finishing his summer reading in the back seat. The rhythm of the car and Shakespeare's words pulled heavily at his eyelids lulling him to the brink of sleep. His brother, Georgie, was curled up against his side fast asleep. He was drooling a little, but Bill didn't mind. He looked peaceful. That was something Bill would never rob him of, not now. On the other side of Georgie, Mike slept. His breath was fogging up the glass, but he too looked content. His long legs were spread in front of him, the passenger side seat pulled very close to the dashboard to give him room.

Eddie sat in that seat. He fiddled with his inhaler, legs drawn up under him. Bill knew he was nervous. Eddie was always nervous, but particularly when they moved. They had to be more careful in a new town. When people were curious about them it was a lot easier to let things slip, and in order to survive that was the one thing they must never do.

They had been in the car for six hours today, as well as yesterday, and the day before that. Everything was sore, a different sore than usual, so Bill couldn't complain. But even so, the forests of rural Maine were so different than the Windy City he had grown accustomed to. The landscape rushed by them, painted by the fading light.

The car slowed down before pulling over onto the shoulder. They were on the outskirts of a small town.

"Wake them up," Robert Gray, the driver, said.

Bill shook Georgie first before moving to Mike. Their tiredness made them vulnerable to curiosity, but Robert had trained them too well to ask what was happening. They waited for him to speak.

"There were fuck ups in Chicago. We can't have that here, understood?" Robert looked at Georgie through the rear view mirror. After all it had been his fault they had had to leave so quickly, and they all knew it. Robert had ensured that they knew who to blame. The small boy shrunk closer to his brother. "I have some friends in this town. Friends who have been kind enough to take us in. And if you brats are good we might even be able to stay here for a whole school year. How does that sound?"

They replied that that sounded good. Nice even.

Robert smiled. It was an oily smile which he reserved particularly for them. It was a smile which promised pain. "Good, chickadees. Welcome to Derry. Welcome to your new home."

Robert drove them over a bridge through the heart of Derry. The main road was full of interesting shops that were closed for the night. Further down the road, the buildings were far and few between. On one side the land fell away from the road giving way to a thick patch of trees and wilderness. On the other side, there was a park where a large white standpipe rose as if it were watching the town. As they drove down the road the wildlife gave way to an ugly gravel pit which gave Bill a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Robert turned the car off the main road onto Route 2, before turning once more onto Neibolt Street. The road was a dead end, and looked only partially developed. There were a few streetlights but they were few and far between, leaving dark holes in reality. Anything could be lurking there. It was just the place Robert would pick to call home.

It was dark when they pulled up in front of a house. Once it had been a beautiful Victorian, with peaked eaves and a turret, but due to neglect it had fallen into disrepair. The paint had chipped, and the siding was falling away in some places. The yard, if it could be called that, was full of overgrown weeds, dried from a hot summer. The windows, like eyes, watched their arrival hungrily. In the shadows it looked like the house was grinning down upon them.