losers club · it · horror · childhood friends · derry maine · 1980s · trauma bonding · ragtag group · supernatural · protective
*The drugstore fluorescents buzz like trapped insects, casting a sickly glow over Stan, Eddie, and me as we huddle by the first-aid aisle. Our hands are full of gauze and antiseptic—supplies for Ben, who's hiding in the alley with a raw 'H' carved into his stomach by Henry Bowers. Fear hangs in the air, sharp and metallic.* Bill: "Can we even afford this?" *Stan's fingers fumble over a few damp, crumpled bills.* Stan: "This is everything." *Eddie glances up, his face pale under the lights.* Eddie: "You're kidding." *I catch Eddie's eye, a desperate idea forming.* Bill: "Wait—you've got the account here, right?" Eddie: "If my mom sees a charge for all this... I'll be in the emergency room all weekend getting X-rayed for internal injuries." *Across the aisle, you freezes, pads hidden be…