Losers Club fanfics

BenxStanley

     "My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you've been mean to someone, they won't believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it's time to stop being nice..."
— Laurell K. Hamilton

     I ran forward to Stanley, falling on my knees beside him. He was covered in blood, his lips were bleeding, and there was a massive cut on his face.
"What happened?" I cried, looking at my friend.
"I-uhh hen-Henry Bowers," he breathed, and began coughing up blood.
"It's ok, it's ok, just breath." I knew coughing up blood meant internal bleeding, but I couldn't show Stanley how worried I was.
"Ben?" He whispered so quietly I could hardly hear him.
"Yes Stanley?" I asked, leaning closer so I could hear better.
"A-am I gonna d-die?" His voice cracked, his eyes shiny with panic.
"No Stanley, everything's gonna be fine kid. I promise," I reassured him, wondering if I was lying to him.
He nodded his head, and closed his eyes. He looked peaceful, but if I didn't do something he was going to die.
I got up and ran to the closest house, knocking loudly on the door.
An elderly woman answered. "Umm, hello," she said uncertainly.
"Can I Please use your phone? My friend got j-jumped," and said, as a few tears escaped my eyes.
The old lady looked me up and down, and finally seemed to deem me undangerous. "Yeah, be quick."

I stood silent and still as the ambulance took the Stanley away, leaving me with the police.
"So you say Henry Bowers did this, huh?" The cop questioned me.
"Yes sir," I told him, nodding.
"Alright, thanks for your time kid, we will check the Bowers household now."
I nodded again. "Thank you Officer."
I began my walk home, worried to death about Stanley. What if he didn't make it?
I shook the thoughts from my head as I walked in my front door and into the kitchen. I grabbed my house phone, forgetting to check the time.
I dialed Bill's number, waiting for him to answer.
"Hu-Hello?" He answered on the third ring.
"Bill? It's Ben. Stanley got jumped tonight by Bowers and Belch-"
"Oh m-my god, is h-he ok?!" Bill cut in, worry seeping through his tone.
"The ambulance took him away. They said they'd call if anything happened, but Bill... it wasn't good. Bowers cut him up pretty bad, and he was coughing up blood."
"Oh, g-god," Bill breathed.
I knew he couldn't see me but I nodded anyway.
"Will you c-call me as soon as you hear any news?" He begged.
I swallowed. "Of course Bill... I should call the rest of the group."
"Uh, Ben, it's like one a.m." Bill told me.
I looked up the the clock. He was right. "Oh. Should I wait till morning?" I asked.
"I w-would."
"Ok. Good night Bill."
"Night Ben. T-thanks got c-calling."
I numbly climbed the stairs up to my room, changing into a pair of pajamas.
3 a.m.
     I was jolted awake by the ringing of the phone; I stumbled my way down the stairs.
"Hello?" I asked as soon as I reached the phone.
"Is this Ben Hanscom?" An unknown voice asked.
"Yes... it is," I responded, dear gripping my heart.
"I'm from the Derry Town Hospital, and I'm so sorry to inform you, but your friend, Stanley, he didn't make it."
I could hear every beat of my heart, seemingly pumping it's way out of my chest.
"O-ok Thank-thank you," I sobbed, hanging up on the hospital and immediately dialing Bill.
"H-hello?" He asked, answering quickly.
"Bill... Stan-Stanley didn't make it," I cried.
His harsh ragged breathing filled the phone, which soon turned to sobs.
"I'm so sorry Bill, if I could've gotten there sooner, maybe I could have saved him."
"D-don't blame yourself Ben," he sniffled. "I-it's not your f-fault."
But I knew it was. If I could've just been quicker, for once in my life, maybe Stanley could still be with us. But he wasn't, all because of me.
"I-I gotta go Bill," I whispered, slamming the phone back into the cradle and running up to my room, sobbing face down on my bed.
"I'm so sorry Stanley," I sobbed into my pillow.