also in this it is mostly stan reacting how i feel he would, and his ocd taking over and causing an anxiety attack over his friend being gone. i tried my best to keep the symptoms and his actions as accurate as possible and if anything doesn't make sense or is wrong please let me know :)
As soon as Stan saw the poster, his heart stopped. He ran over to the post and ripped it off, his hands shaking.
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He didn't want to believe it. He knew the poster they'd seen at their first encounter at the Neibolt house was fake- but this one was out. It was stapled up and it was right in front of him. Stanley ran faster than even he thought was possible, reaching Bill's house within minutes. He pounded on the door, his other hand clutching the poster.
Stan felt his mind going into overdrive. He looked down at the crumpled poster in his fist and immediately smoothed it out. He did the best he could, repeatedly smoothing it out with his hand. He hadn't even realized Bill had answered until he cleared his throats.
"Stuh- Stuh-Stanny?" Bill's voice was laced with concern.
"Sorry Bill... sorry" he shook his head, muttering sorry once more before cursing himself for tripping over his words. He tried his best to control his... condition in stressful situations. Stan still didn't want to admit to what he had, so he wanted things done right? What was the matter with that?
He looked up when he felt Bill's hands brush against his, as he took the poster from Stan. Bill read it, his eyes scanning it over and over again. His face was pale and when he faced Stan again, his amber eyes were wide and full of fear.
"It's my fault... it's all my fault!" Stan felt himself pulling at the skin on his fingers. Overwhelming guilt took over his mind, millions of what ifs filled his head. What if he had stopped Richie from going to see Eddie? What if he had gone with Richie to make sure he was okay? What if he had offered to talk to Eddie? There was so much he could've done to help Richie. He repeatedly ran his hands through his hair, his breathing becoming raspier and shallow.
Bill reached up, taking Stan's hands from his hair and intertwining them with his own. He took Stan inside and closed the door. Bill opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Stan's panicked shouting.
"Tell me he's okay! Tell me he's going to be okay Bill!" Stan yelled, in desperate need of reassurance.
Bill took Stan to the couch and sat him down, taking Stan into his arms. Stan repeatedly fixed the couch, the pillows, the cushions and blankets. Bill, who was naturally soft spoken, kept a steady and calm voice, reassuring the curly haired boy in his arms. He continued to reassure Stan that he was there for him and wouldn't leave him. Eventually, Stan's breathing evened out and his hands came to a rest in his lap.
"I'm sorry Bill- I didn't mean to freak out on you..." Stan swallows.
"Duh-duh-don't worry abo-about it" Bill shook his head and squeezed Stan's hand, "bu-but now we ha-have t-to tell E-E-Eddie..."
Both boys exchanged a worried look, then Stan picked up the phone.
sorry this was kind of a filler chapter and not that good but
