"Tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when I lose my mind."
In which two kids made it out together, though they aren't kids anymore. The pair is reunited with their old childhood friend-group, with the goal to save t...
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Elaine jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her heart hammering against her chest as the remnants of her nightmare clung to her mind like suffocating smoke. The darkness of the room seemed to press in around her, too thick, too quiet, as though her dream had finally become a reality. She could still see it — flickering images of what she'd lost, despair, and horrors she had fought to leave behind. They refused to fade. For a brief, chilling moment, she wasn't sure if she was still dreaming.
But then she heard it—Richie's soft snore beside her, steady and familiar. She turned her head, blinking through the haze, and saw him lying peacefully, his face soft in sleep, an arm draped protectively above her. The warmth of him, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, was comforting, reminding her where she was, that she was safe. In fact, that they were both safe, here in the dim light of their big room, far away from the horrors of Derry, the sewers, and that stupid clown.
But as comforting as Richie's presence was, it wasn't enough to banish the terror that still gripped her. The nightmare had been too real—too sharp in its detail. She could still feel the fear gnawing at her insides, twisting tighter with every breath. Elaine shifted, her gaze lingering on Richie's peaceful expression, completely oblivious to the panic that had woken her. She wanted to sink into his arms, to let his warmth and scent shield her from the darkness that clung to her chest.
But she couldn't shake the haunting images: the faces of people they'd lost, friends who had never made it out of Derry. Worse still, her mind was fixated on the baby. Edith, so fragile and innocent, now tied to a world that had already taken so much from them. What if something happened to the baby? The thought struck her like a punch to the gut, forcing her to sit up. Fear fluttered inside her chest, each pulse of her heart amplifying the dread.
Carefully, Elaine slid out of bed, trying not to disturb Richie, though her body was shaking from the adrenaline. Her limbs felt heavy, her head light as if she were teetering on the edge of a building. The cool air outside the warmth of their bed sent a shiver through her, but she didn't care. She had to check on the baby. She needed to see her, to know that she was still there, breathing and safe. Without a second thought, Elaine made a beeline for the nursery, her footsteps quick and uneven.
The house seemed too large in the stillness of the night, the dark hallways stretching ahead of her like something out of the house on Neibolt. The familiar creak of the floorboards beneath her bare feet did nothing to calm her nerves; instead, it only made the house feel empty, distant, as though she were alone in a maze. She stumbled down the hall, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the images from her dream continued to claw at her—images of Pennywise, the deadlights, the endless fear that they thought they'd escaped.
She could almost hear her own cries for help again, echoing through the corridors of her mind. When Elaine finally reached the nursery door, she paused, her hand trembling on the doorknob. What if—what if it was more than a dream? What if he had found them again, lurking in the shadows of their lives, waiting to strike when they were most afraid? Her breath hitched in her throat, her fear building to a peak, but she had to know. Gathering her courage, she pushed the door open, her heart thundering in her chest.
