"Guys! I'm coming!" I shouted, launching forward while dragging Patrick behind me. I ignored his sounds of protests and put all my energy into making my way through the darkness. If it came to it, I would leave Patrick there and then and go help my friends without a second thought.

I'd come back for him, of course, but he wasn't the priority.

How had we gotten into this mess? Patrick seemed as if he was about to pass out any minute, my face felt as if it run head on into a truck and by the sounds of the Losers' screams, they were probably in the middle of dying right now.

I heard yells that sounded like Stan and I pulled Patrick along even faster. I could tell he was struggling to keep up, his loud splashing in the water drowning out mine, but he wasn't making any verbal complaints.

Which was good, because then I wouldn't hesitate to drop him.

"Stanley!"

"Stan!"

I heard the Losers scream in the distance and I almost let out a sob. My friends were here and they were in danger.

The darkness was consuming and I found myself closing my eyes, not able to bear the feeling of being blind with my eyes open. But my shoulder slammed into a wall and they opened involuntarily.

The screams were louder now, which meant we were getting closer. Patrick, however, was slowing down and my arms were getting tired from pulling the dead weight.

"Patrick, come on. Please don't die on me now." I pleaded, hearing his heavy breathing behind me.

"Don't worry about me, new girl. Save it for your friends. They seem to be the ones that are in a bit of trouble." he panted. If we were in any other situation, I might have laughed at his use of the old nickname.

He had slowed to a walking pace, so I stopped and wrapped my arm tighter around his shoulders. With a groan, I half-carried him forward. Even though he tried to lessen the burden of his weight, my muscles were already straining from the exertion.

But it wasn't long until we escaped the darkness. A torch lay abandoned on the ground shining light onto a bare wall, illuminating the room around us. I could still hear the Losers in the distance and it sounded as if they were getting closer, but I could hear another sound as well.

It was wet, almost like the sound you make when you slurp noodles.

And it was coming from right beside us.

I let go of Patrick to pick up the torch and he sagged to the floor with a groan, making me wince. Slowly, I moved my hand and the beam of light passed Patrick's beaten body to something that made me drop the flashlight instantly.

Stan was lying flat on the floor, twitching. A dark creature, looking human but obviously not, was sucking on Stan's face with its mouth stretched to cover his whole head. Rows upon rows of sharp teeth were visible, dripping blood.

Patrick let out a breathy laugh as I let out a scream. I wanted to run towards Stan, but I couldn't. My body had gone with neither flight or fight, and had instead resorted to freezing.

Suddenly, the rest of the Losers rushed into the room and let out yells of their own. The combined light out their torches caused the creature to lift its head off of Stanley, giving us a full view of its face.

I let out a gasp; it was the woman that Stan described on the 4th of July.

Stanley let out a breath of relief as the creature released its latch to his face and I could see a ring of blood from where its teeth had dug in. The creature started to back away, holding its arm out in front of its face to shield itself from the light. I was frozen with fear and it took Stan's shrieks of terror to snap me out of my daze.

I lurched forward towards him, but as soon as I touched his arm he started to writhe away. His eyes were glued to the tunnel that the creature had disappeared to.

I turned to look at where it had gone, only to see the smiling face of Pennywise slinking away. I felt my stomach lurch. Of course it was Pennywise.

"You left me!" Stan screamed suddenly as the rest of the Losers reached us.

"No Stan we-"

"You made me go into Neibolt! You're not my friends." Stan cut Eddie off, tears streaming down his face. Nobody knew what to do. Eddie and Ben held onto his arms, trying to comfort him. I felt sick, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of here.

But we couldn't leave Beverly.

I felt hands on my back and I turned to see Mike looking at me worriedly. "Lara, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me." I replied, noticing Richie also staring at me through tears of worry.

"It's just... You're face." Mike said, his face scrunching up. I brought my hand up to my face only to bring it away and see blood covering my fingertips.

"For real Lara, you look like Carrie White." Richie said quietly. The pain of my injuries came flooding back after my shock of seeing Stanley had driven them away. I winced and turned away from them, unable to stand their expressions of pity.

The boys had seemed to calm Stanley down and his hyperventilating had reduced to silent tears. I grasped his hand and he squeezed back.

Suddenly, Eddie started to scream. "Bill? Bill!" We all turned around in surprise just in time to see someone turn the corner, out of sight.

The boys stood up yelling and started after him. Stan was slow to follow, turning to look back at me hesitantly.

"Go. I'll catch up." I said, still sitting on the ground. My eyes were glued to Patrick's motionless body.

Seeing where I was looking, he nodded before running off. As soon as he was out of sight I stood up and made towards Patrick.

At first I thought he was unconscious, considering hid eyes were shut and he wasn't moving, but the faint smile on his lips said otherwise.

"Patrick." I said quietly. I could still hear the yells of the others in the distance.

"Hmm?" he hummed in reply, raising an eyebrow, his eyes still glued shut. I knelt down beside him and gave him a light shake.

"Are you alive?"

He opened his eyes and stared at me for a brief second before erupting into a fit of laughter. I pulled back abruptly.

"What the... Patrick, are you alright?" I asked over his guffaw.

"This is too... Hilarious!" he managed to get out, before laughing all over again. His face was turning grey and was covered with a sheen of sweat. If he wasted all his energy on laughing now, then there will be none left for his heart to beat.

"What is wrong with you? There is nothing to laugh about right now!"

"Did you not see what happened just before? Did you not see the look on the Jew's face?!" he grinned at me.

My insides churned in disgust. "You're a fucktard."

"And you're the love of my life." he replied. I choked on my own spit.

"What did you just say?" I spluttered.

"What? Aren't we naming things that aren't true?" he said with a wink.

"Ugh. If you have enough energy to crack these stupid jokes, then you'll have enough energy to come with me. Let's go." I said, grabbing his upper arm and attempting to pull him up.

"No. Stop." he said , shaking his arm away.

"What? We have to go and help them."

"Do I look like I'd be any help?" he asked, looking down at his mangled wrists. I couldn't deny his point.

"I'm not leaving you." I whispered. "I just got you back."

"Yeah well, life does this to you sometimes, new girl. Not that I'd complain if you stayed with me." he said quietly, closing his eyes again.

"Fuck." I said, running my hands through my hair. If I left him, there was a high chance that he'd be dead by the time I came back to him. But I needed to help my friends, and who knew what could be happening to them right now.

Thinking quickly, I used sharp rock on the ground to tear off the bottom of my shirt. Even though the bleeding from his wrists had slowed and most of it was dry, I wrapped the bits of cloth around wounds. They stained red almost instantly.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "I'll come back for you."

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.