.

.

Ben says he's got a surprise for them—a Clubhouse. Henry Bowers and all of the other school bullies will never find it. "There's incomplete areas, but you gotta see what I've got done!" Ben says enthusiastically, leading the way during their hike.

It's the peak of summer, scorching and humid. Eventually, they rest for the water canisters in Mike's pack.

Stanley and Eddie remove their loafers, one by one methodically, shaking out rocks. Bill climbs up on a boulder and gazes around the ferns and brushwood in the distance, as if keeping watch. Beverly elbows Mike gently, offering her cigarette with a friendly wink and shrugging it off when he apologizes and refuses a smoke. Ben watches her forlornly from his sitting position.

Richie barrels past all of them, huffing and scrubbing the glisten of perspiration off his neck.

"Look at this, Eds!" he yells, holding out a wild mushroom.

Eddie scowls, hitting away Richie's fingers prodding his nose with it. "How many times do I gotta tell you NOT to call me Eds?"

"Apparently six kajillion," Ben comments.

The corners of Stanley's lips twitch downward. "That's not a real number," he mutters, taking a swig out of his canister.

"Don't put that crap in my face—OHH, holy shit!" Eddie gawks open-mouthed. He snatches onto Richie's wrist, keeping him from jerking around. Richie's mushroom has a bent shape, whitish-grey with bits of color. "It looks like blood splatters! Cool!"

Bill narrows his eyes at them, going protective.

"Hey, don't be m-messing with—"

"Why not?" Eddie asks, nonplussed.

"Clearly because you don't know where that's been," Stanley proclaims, being the logical one he is. At this, Eddie lets go of Richie's wrist and tenses up, scooting away on the log. Richie motions to a unimpressed Stanley, sending a 'what the hell' glare.

"Where's it been? It's a fucking mushroom, Stanley. It comes out of the dirt."

"Wow. Brilliant deduction."

Richie turns his attention back to Eddie. "I dare you to eat it," he says, grinning widely.

"That's—that's absolutely disgusting, no way," Eddie mumbles.

"You scaaaared?"

"I'm not scared, dickbrain—" he barks out, reddening at Richie's overly smug look, "—YOU eat it—"

"Knew it. You're a scaredy little shit-bird."

Beverly tuts. "Richie—"

Eddie fiercely jabs out his middle finger to him as Richie's laughter bellows out and surrounds all of them. "Don't eat that," Mike warns him, shaking his head when Eddie rips the bulbous, sweet-smelling mushroom out of Richie's hand.

Perhaps it's his impulsive nature, or how Eddie rarely turns down a challenge from Richie—whatever it was—Eddie's teeth rip too, quickly, chewing out a good-sized portion of the blood-red mushroom's cap. In seconds, Eddie claps a hand over his mouth, gagging on the nasty, earthy flavor, his eyes bugging out. By some miracle, Eddie manages to keep it down.

The rest of the Losers Club groans out Eddie's name in disapproval, and Richie—of course—Richie completely loses his shit.

"Oh my god, he FUCKING SWALLOWED IT—!"

"Are you happy, Richie?" Beverly deadpans, crossing her arms to her overalls. He adjusts his glasses, smirking.

"I could piss myself I'm so happy right now."

"Fuck you, dude," Eddie mutters.

He heaves over himself, gagging loudly but nothing coming up but hot, thin spittle. Richie's hand slaps his back. Like he's congratulating Eddie's public show of dumbassery. "I'll eat the next one—how about that?" Richie blurts out.

"Good." Eddie sneers, trying his best to appear menacing. "Hope it tastes like ass."

"You kiss your mother with that cute little mouth of yours, Eds?"

Bill rolls his eyes, helping Mike gather up the water canisters. "Will you two p-p-pipe down?"

"That's like asking for the Tooth Fairy to be real… …" Stanley grumbles. He finishes brushing off his mud-crusting loafer and slipping it on, joining Beverly and Ben and Richie crowding up over another boulder.

While no one is around, Eddie mouths 'she's not?' to himself, contemplating this before racing after his friends.

.

.

"How long is this gonna take again?"

"We're walking, Richie," Beverly groans, fanning her plaid-yellow bandanna slung around her throat.

"No shit. It's boring as h—"

Eddie collapses with a thud onto the grass, right beside a startled, gawking Ben. He shivers and shudders on his back, limbs flopping uselessly. "Eddie," Richie calls out, dazed and worried. He hurries over, grabbing the other boy's forearm.

Stanley drops down next to Richie, hesitating to touch him. "Eddie, hey—"

"What's wrong?" Bill's face grimaces. "Eddie? Eddie, can you hear me?" he raises his voice, leaning a hand onto Richie.

Eddie's gone sickly pale, breathing rapidly and no longer twitching. His eyelids half-mast. It doesn't look like Eddie can focus on anything or anyone. "Richie, the mushroom—" Beverly murmurs suddenly, horrorstruck.

"Fuck!" Richie yells, wanting so badly to punch himself for this. Punch anything. "Eddie, look at me! Snap out of it!"

"We have get him outta here…"

"Richie…" Eddie breathes out, lying on his back to the itchy, green grass, staring up at the nothingness he's trapped in. To Richie and all of their friends, Eddie sounds so small and sad like this. Sluggish. "Listen… I think I got him…"

"Eddie?"

"I think I've killed it…"

Beverly falls onto her bottom, clenching at her mouth with both of her dirtied hands. She sobs, muffled and heartbreaking.

"I…"

"Get him up!" Mike orders.

"Richie…" Eddie's voice fades, swelling with tears. "Richie…"

He arches, snapping like a bow, his dark brown eyes rolling to their whites. They collectively panic as a group, shouting and clamoring for Eddie, rolling him sideways. Discolored, lumpy puke spews out of Eddie's mouth, soaking into the ground. He wheezes through the vomiting spell, until Eddie's stomach has nothing left. Richie and Beverly's hands steady him upright.

"Fuck…" Eddie whines, unaware of everyone's dismayed looks. "Think… I passed out… … did I pass out?"

An uncomfortable stretch of silence follows. Bill, distraught, cups a hand to his forehead, hunched over. Stanley keeps his eyes on a tree, jaw clenched. Beverly sobs out, grasping harshly onto Ben's hand. Mike fists onto Bill's shirt, confused.

"Yeah, sure," Richie answers tonelessly. He stiffly rubs under his moistened eyes.

"… okay," Eddie says, weirded out.

"Let's get you back. J-j-just in case."

Bill grabs under Eddie's left arm, as Mike takes his right.

They never speak of what happened that day, not even among each other—and Eddie never mentions what happened to him.

What he saw.

Not even as an adult.

He was never meant to know.

.

.

IT (2019) isn't mine. Requested by The_Bisexual_From_Hell: "Young Eddie or Young Stan has a vision about their death." OH THIS ONE HURT. IT HURT REAL GOOD. THANKS. LOVE IT. Hope y'all enjoyed! Any comments/thoughts are as always so very much welcomed! SCREAM TO BE ABOUT IT 2019 PLS.

((Want a request for IT? I'm doing 100-1000 word fics of any friendship or romantic ship + any prompt until I feel like quitting. Rules: you need to comment here and provide a friendship or romantic ship and prompt. You need to also specify if you want SFW or NSFW (for 18+ readers only). The only requests I'll be looking at is if you ALSO commented about the fic you just read as well. It's only fair. You came to this fic to read it and me doing something for you later on is a sweet bonus!))

((Do not ask for Reader/Character, OCs, Bowers Gang-centric or ship, Pennywise-centric or ship or underage. All characters for NSFW will be depicted as 18+ only.))