IT imagines and preferences

{27 Years Later...} 2

WARNING!!! This references the book a lot and contains spoilers if you don't already know the plot of the adult Losers Club. These chapters reference death, suicide, smut, and mental health problems. HUGE TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE AND SELF HARM! These all take place in 2016 btw.

!This has been split into two chapters due to how long each section is!

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Stan

Stan cradles me in his arms, pulling as close to him as possible, needy for the feeling of our bodies touching. He kisses me sloppily and drags his fingertips across my body. As he begins to pull my shirt off, his phone rings. He ignores it. We continue our actions, his shirt coming off, me straddling him and staring at his handsome features. My phone begins to ring. We ignore it. He kisses and sucks on my neck, pulling my body closer to his than ever before. My phone rings again. I groan, annoyed. He reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, lust written all over his face. My phone rings again. 

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I groan, getting up to pick up my phone from the dresser.

"HELLO?!" I ask, obviously annoyed.

"y/n? Sorry to bother you. It's Mike Hanlon, from Derry. It's back. I need you to keep the promise we made all those years ago." I was speechless. Am I hearing this right?
"Okay. I'll tell Stan. See you soon." I rush out,  hanging up abruptly. 

When we were kids, Stan and I were the most sensitive of the group. We were both terrified of the dangers of Derry. While the others felt motivated to fight back, we quietly stood by and hoped we wouldn't be killed next. Stan wasn't going to take this nicely.

"Who was that babe? You look like you've seen a ghost" Stan asks from the bed.
"That was Mike Hanlon from Derry... He says It is back." I say back in a whisper. If his face hadn't dropped the way it did, I would've thought he didn't hear me. "Are you okay Stan?"
"Yea babe. I'm okay. I'm just... I'm shocked," he says slowly. 

I crawl into bed with his and wrap my arms firmly around him. "We have to go back. We promised." 
"I know. I just need to calm down and think." He breathes out.
"Alright babe. I'll run you a bath and pack our stuff, then join you when I'm done" I hum to him, smiling lightly into his neck.

We get up and sit in the bathroom as I fill up the bath for him. Once it's full, Stan begins to undress. I stand on my tip toes and kiss him sweetly before leaving to pack our stuff. I stare at the wedding band on my left hand and remember the day Stan and I got married. He was so happy, so excited. He's terrified right now. I can feel it radiating all the way from the bathroom. He was scared to return to the childhood life we had both tried so hard to suppress. I zipped up our packed suitcases and rolled them down stairs. 

I walk back up the stairs and take my shirt off, discarding it along the way somewhere. I walk up to the bathroom door and knock lightly. "Stan? What do you say if we continue where we left off before that call?" He doesn't respond. "Honey?" I ask, twisting the doorknob, discovering that it's locked. "Stan!" I shout, worried thoroughly. I kick at the door twice before the lock breaks.

"STAN?" I yell out as the door opens. Stan lays in the tub, submerged in bright pink water. His wrists were slit down to the tendons and in large capital letters on the wall in blood spelled "IT".

I let out a blood curdling scream at the sight of my husband. I gather him in my arms and try to shake him awake, crying horridly. He was gone. 

And now a question bombards me, harder to answer then it should be. Do I stay and plan Stans funeral or go home to Derry.