IT Ship One-Shot Book

Ms. Keesha? Ms. Keesha? Oh my fucking god she fucking dead

~PAIRING: Richie x Stan~ 

 ~Post Pennywise/Modern day AU~ 

 ~SWEARING, TRIGGERING TOPICS, BLOOD~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stan couldn't take it anymore.

The scars left on his face from the clown.

The stares he got.

The uncomfortable and sad looks he got from his friends when they see him.

The slightly offensive jokes Richie still managed to make about his scars rarely.

He knew he was just trying to lighten him up but,

It hurt most coming from someone he loved so much.

Stan had become more and more depressed and anxiety ridden since the Pennywise incident, and the other Losers picked up on it, but didn't do anything. They really didn't know how to help. Bill and Eddie would constantly try and talk to Stan, but he would mostly shut them out everytime, staying in his house. They eventually stopped coming by, and Stan hated that he had driven his friends away. Richie would still stop by once in awhile to talk, but Stan would get frustrated every time.  Maybe it was because of the lack of sleep he got due to nightmares he constantly had, which affected his normal polite attitude. 

Stan sometimes would go out with the others, and slipped into wearing long sleeved clothes. Richie noticed this right away, and he and Bill didn't want to believe what Stan could be doing. Eddie started fretting over him, and that tended to end up with Stan making some snappy retort, soon leaving to go home after with the others sharing worried glaces.

He stood in his bathroom, he was running a warm bath, hoping it would help him fall asleep easier. Stan's eyes shifted to the medicine cabinet, knowing that easily he could slit his wrists with the razors he had hidden in there, and not be bothered by the scars anymore, or the constant flashbacks and nightmares serving as a reminder. 

Stan considered it, and then thought to himself  that'd he'd rather try and relax, and then if that didn't work he'd go ahead, he was so tired of the torment. 

He slipped out of his clothes, and slid himself into the bath. Stan  found himself not enjoying as he had in the past, and he eventually sat with his knees to his chest in the tub. His mind wandered to how many germs he was sitting in and how filthy the water must be. Stan quickly got out, and started to drain the tub. He grabbed his second pair of clean clothes, and put them on before putting the towels up. He felt gross. Disgusting.

Stan had no idea that his phone was blowing up at an alarming rate, having said to Richie that he could come over to make up for flaking out on a plan from a few days ago. 

Stan the man you ready for our little play-date?

Stan?

Stanny?

Stanley Uris u there my buddy?

Okay, I'm coming over now, see you in a few

There had been some kind of urgency in the last few texts, Richie knew that Stan always kept his phone with him and was quick to reply.