#brotherfailed

He’d been in this strange new place – and by strange place, he meant world, because this wasn’t Earth – for less than a day after waking to a man prodding at him. Gasher, the man was called, and he’d come across as strange right from the start, but with nowhere else to go and nobody else around, he had gone with him.

What else could he do?

He might have faced off against a child-eating clown monster but he was still just a child. He couldn’t take care of himself, especially when he knew nothing about where he was. He didn’t know how he even got there, but he got the feeling the Turtle had something to do with it. It hadn’t taken long at all for Bill to decide he’d rather take his chances out there than stay with Tick Tock and the Grays.

“Way out. Need some eh-eh-air.”

Andrew had heard noises and was up right away. His keen ears never failed him and he already had a hunch which one made all that noise. There weren’t much options, Gasher was out like a light thanks to buzzing his head full of alcohol and the others were fast asleep as well, that was the caste most of the time.

So the only one who was left was that boy they had found not too long ago. The giant man followed the noise and soon found Bill stuttering an explanation for his nightly detour.

“Why are you still up? Squirts like you should be asleep by now” his voice wasn’t angry, it was more questioning, wondering even. “You don’t plan to leave us already, or do you? After we took you in and gave you food and water, you wouldn’t just leave us like that i reckon?” his green eyes were on Bill for a little longer before his typical smile returned, walking over to the boy, putting a massive hand on the others shoulder.

“Fresh air, huh? Well there is plenty of it here, but if you really want to get up, i will follow you, just in case one of these pubes is luring around, those bastards have their ways, they sure do” Ticky added, grabbing Bill’s shoulder a little harder than usual. “And a weebie like you is like fresh meat for them”

𝒜 𝒟𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐘 𝒪𝐅 𝐵𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐛𝐲 𝐬.𝐭. 𝐠𝐢𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐧

Isn’t there? How IT doubted that. He was a child, nothing but a squirming brat barely out of infancy. He might have thought he knew horror. But he had only known the terror that IT had shown, the loss of a brother, the slow and steady isolation shown to him by his parents. A slow death, but one where he could feel the life blood drain out of him inch by inch. Torture perhaps, but there was so much more, so many horrors. Had he seen Todash Space? Had he crawled on his belly through the cesspit of the Macroverse? Squirmed through the mud to gape with milk blind eyes at the enormity of it all? No, he was nothing. Barely a speck of vomit from the turtle’s belly.

IT leers at him, leaning in to ruffle his hair in a parody of affection, sharp claws grazing the top of his skull and leaving bleeding marks.

IT snorts, “Oh, Billy boy... you won’t... you’ll watch everyone you ever loved, ever cared about die first. I’ll take them, one by one, I will take them and you won’t be able to stop me. And once you are hopeless, I will come for you... that is our destiny. And you can’t stop it, or save them, just like you couldn’t save little Georgie.”