Lover: Bill Denbrough x Reader (Sequel to Losers: Bill Denbrough x Reader)

For Derry

I was trying my best to keep Eddie's body wash from seeping into my wound as I cleansed myself from the sticky fruity alcohol that I had bathed in at the restaurant. God, being at the restaurant when all I had to worry about was my hickies felt like a lifetime ago. Now I had all these memories coming back and the news that one of our friends would rather kill himself than come back and fight this thing sloshing around in my brain.

But I had made my decision. I came here, even though something in my gut told me not to. We were here now, and I'll be damned if I let my idiot brother leave everyone else here to die. We all have to be here or it won't work. That's why Stan did what he did. To give us a fighting chance. He didn't think he was strong enough to face it again, and I think somewhere deep down, we all knew that. After what Stan went through...

Eddie cradled his cut hand against his chest. And Bill looked over to Stan, who hesitated, but ultimately held his hand out to Bill. I didn't blame him. After what he told me happened in the sewer, I'd never want to come back again if I ever got out. I wouldn't be strong enough to do it.

I don't think any of us would have expected him to come back had we really remembered. Would it still have come as such a shock? Would it hurt any less if we had remembered before?

I felt my chest get tight as I fought back the urge to cry again. Of course it would hurt. He's gone and he's never gonna come back. So, we have to make sure that his death wasn't in vain. Stan didn't die for nothing.

I took a deep breath and even though there was a fire burning behind my eyes begging for tears to fall, they didn't. My mind was made up. I turned off the water and stepped out the shower. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself, suddenly aware that I didn't have any clothes in here and would have to walk down the hall to my room soaking wet and in nothing but a towel.

I sighed and pushed open the door. I half expected Eddie to be here, waiting to rewrap my hand. However, he was gone and I could hear someone arguing downstairs as soon as I stepped out into the hall. I hurried to my room, praying that no one would barge upstairs before I could make it to my room. And surprisingly my prayers were heard.

I slipped into my room and locked the door behind me. With everything going on, you never know who would come knocking. For all I know, Henry Bowers could be the next person to waltz through that door. I laughed a bit to myself. Henry is most likely locked up somewhere and I'll never have to see him again. Especially after what he did. Sick son of a bitch.

"(Y/n)-"

I whipped around so fast that I thought I might lose my towel. I had my back against the freezing wood of the door, terrified that the man I had just laughed off might actually be standing in my room with me.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Bill." I said as I got a good look at the intruder, "You literally almost gave me a heart attack. I'm too old for this shit."

"I'm s-so-sorry, I thought you saw me." He said as he took a step back.

"Obviously fucking not!" I shouted, still trying to calm my racing heart that threatened to gallop straight out of my chest.

"I s-s-s-said I was sorry!"

"Alright fine, apology accepted. What are you doing in here? And how did you get in here?"

Bill almost looked sick, and smelled as though he already had been. He was sweaty and it looked as though he might have had dried blood at the corners of his mouth. What the hell had he and Mike gone off to do?

"I c-c-c-c-can't let you leave. We n-need you." He mumbled, seeming to struggle more and more with his stutter the longer he was in Derry.

"Well, you didn't need to sneak into my room for that. I'm not going home." I shook my head, brushing past him to get to my bag.