Mentions of blood and gore, SOME fluff too! I'm trying to include some that could potentially soften up Pennywise. Bit of the scene plays out differently from the 2017 film.

The heat was enough to steam the entire front shop window, making the small place swell to feel like a hot sauna: something more fancied in Y/N's mind for the colder months, not in the middle of summer.

It had been a couple of weeks since her encounter with It, and in some ways, she was trying to get her life back together from it; some days to feel once again like a kid rather than a scared helpless pet.

It was best for her and assuming Penny: neither had to even think of one another, and she was certainly sure any day it would come round just to finally kill her. Just like it said. Y/N thought reminiscently, watering the plants in her grandmother's shop, watching the world go by quietly.

But I haven't seen it... not that I think I really want to at this moment in time. She shuddered, going to refill the watering can in the bathroom sink; the place where she had encountered him just face to face.

There hadn't been any incidents or things to bring her fears out, no forced drownings in tubs or a single red balloon, it was like, It just... disappeared.

She wondered some days to what it was doing, a clown entity was surely spending its days luring and preying on small children and some adults. Poor kids. Y/N thought, trying to think of the ways those poor parents would feel to their child going missing. Sadly, they wouldn't know what happened to them, but she would.

Sighing finally heavily, she settled the can down, going into the back as she grew bored of the hours spent alone in the shop. Her grandma had asked her politely to open the shop up as she had errands to do for a few hours, leaving her to tend to everything for a while before she came back after 3pm.

It was currently noon.

Groaning, Y/N settled to read one of the books she brought from home, what she did most of the time when no customers came, and since opening at 10am, there had been two.

She slipped into her own reality where there was no pain nor misery, enjoying the pages that lingered joy and delight in her head from her imagination. She was so caught up in her book that she didn't hear the door chime with a hot gust of air, footsteps coming over to the counter.

An awkward cough came from in front of her, as Y/N nearly threw her book over her shoulder, wide eyed and embarrassed as the person who had come in was none other than Bill Denbrough.

"Hey, do you need something Bill?" She asked the boy in front of her, unsure as to why he could be here. "Y-Yeah, uh, this is gonna s-s--ss-sound weird, but... do you have any s-ss-sssc-"

Y/N watched, never trying to correct him as she would've been upset herself if someone was trying to get an answer out. "S-SS-scissors? To borrow?" He finally managed to stutter out the final part of his question out, and she had to blink back to collect herself.

In the hazy part of her mind, Y/N's hand went under the desk, pulling out said pair of rusty scissors used to cut the roots from certain plants for stem cutting. The pair were old but big enough to hold without being seen with them in public, able to find inside your pocket.

She was just about to hand them to him safely, before pausing. "Where's your ID?"

"W-What?" Bill stammered, looking flushed at the question. "Yeah, you have to be at least 16 to buy them." Y/N kept a serious face to him. "Uh---"

"Hey, hurry up in there! We need to go!" A sharp knock came from the front window, and the H/C haired female's eyes darted to see his friends there, the loud mouth Tozier was the one who had told Bill to hurry up.

Y/N narrowed her eyes subtly to them and back to Bill in confusion, not sure exactly where this was going for him to be in such a rush with them. "Well?" She brought him back to the previous question.

"U-Uh, I-I"

She finally snorted a held-back laugh, trying her best not to burst out laughing, but her acting had failed her. "I'm kidding Bill. I'm not bothered about you borrowing them for your little... science experiment." Y/N grinned. "As long as you give them back afterwards. Don't want my grandma getting angry with me."

Bill relaxed for a moment over her first words, but he seemed tense, more rigid and stiff than before, like he had seen a ghost or was going to witness one shortly. "Well, I w-would, but they'll get kinda... gross."

Gross? Y/N pondered at that word, unsure whether to question what he had in mind and what he wanted to do with them, but she finally shook her head, giving in. "Fine, fine, just buy me a new pair. I'll let you off for this one Denbrough."

Bill smiled, nodding as he begun walking away with haste. "T-Thanks Y/N!" He opened the door to leave, a quick "Hiya Y/N! Love the skirt!~" coming from Richie's mouth before him as his fellow friends hushed him to shut up.

She ignored the comment, watching them all gather on their bikes as they rode off, all in exceptional speed for a group of young teens trying to get on with their day. It's summer. Let them enjoy it. It's not like they're indoors all day working. Y/N hummed, turning back to her chores as she didn't think much to it.

Wait, why did they all have a traumatised look to their faces? Y/N couldn't deny that she was not the only one being caught in webbing of Pennywise and his ways, but were they too?

Why else would It not be seeing you all the time? They're other kids to pick on.... That would mean.... Bill wanted those scissors for a reason... but why? She thought, her head spinning. Then, it came to her.

They were all going, to put a stop to .

Her heart plummeted in her chest, ribs aching more than the times Bowers had kicked her time and time again, and there was... a cold feeling that washed over her, and had anyone walked in, they would've thought she was prepared to faint.

"Sh*t." She muttered, gritting her teeth as she gathered her things, her body and mind working in clockwork style, trying to stop herself from really going to do what she never thought she would in a million years.

If they kill It, it will be the end of the torment. The questions, the worries. It will all be gone, and so will be that monster. You'll be able to grow old and happy, not having to worry about It ever again.

. The word plagued her mind. She had thought of the clown as a monster, a monster with no emotions or cognitive thought to anything, just an animal finding more prey. No empathy. But the same clown was the same one who slowly warming you up, never striking to kill you, and even at one point... saving you from being attacked.

No, no, I can't be thinking this. It is a monster and nothing else! She screamed in her own head. But weren't all really? Tracy, Henry Bowers and his gang of mock-up henchmen. Even her mom. There were monsters in all of us, and they had done horrible things.

What good was calling It a monster when you stared at them in person everyday for 18 years of your existence?

She hated how her mind was in two, two parts fighting for dominance and screaming to pull herself together. But was she ready?

And what about me? Y/N thought with a frown. What am I if I think of them as a monster as one? She could be brash and stubborn, cold most days, and sad on others. The depression had made her inflict pain on her days on end, and she nearly ended it on one when she thought of it as her last. What was the point in the end? Humans had such pointless emotions, driven mad to make everything in life much more better for them.

If It is a monster, then we all are. And if It is a monster, then so am I.

Wildly kicked in overdrive, Y/N ripped part of her notebook paper in a crude message, fiddling with the pen as she scrambled to write a note for her grandma and why she couldn't finish on time. In handwriting more messy and disjointed, she wrote up something from her panicked mind:

Y/N ran out the shop through the front, throwing the sign over as she rushed to her bike hidden behind some bins in the alleyway ajacent to.

She hurried, riding along as she could, trying to cycle as fast as she could within time before she thought it was too late, only hoping she was correct in knowing where the Loser Gang were going.

God, I f*cking hate this.

You threw your bike down into the dry grass just in front of the knocked down wired fence, staring up at the dreaded Neibolt house, beckoning you quietly to come in. There were no bikes, no screaming nor noises coming in or out of the house, and Y/N questioned she had gone to the right place.

They must leave to the sewers in the end. She thought, walking slowly down to get to the front door. There was an eerie silence to everything, and the quieter it was, the more sick to her stomach Y/N felt. As much as she didn't want to go into those sewers again, she knew it would mean she would have to eventually.

There was still time to turn back round and leave, leave and not come back, but her legs were pushing and pushing her to go up the stairs and stand just inches in front of the door; barbed with rotting pieces of planked wood and nails.

This was it. Her hand lingered on the doorknob. This is where I die. In a f*cking crackhouse.

She had shut her eyes tight as she gripped at it and twisted, the door opening with no trouble for her. She stood there for a moment, daring not to move as she stared in; looking at the mess and clutter that was inside.

There was an odd musky warmth to the inside when she finally took steps in, looking around as she slowly and cautiously walked around. She was on edge in not knowing where Pennywise could be, nor how predictable he was in wanting to see her.

There had been a fight with It against seven teenagers, and Y/N was uncertain if the clown had won against them.

There was the kitchen, a large table broken right down the middle, dust still flying in the air thick like smog it was almost hard to breath. She paused looking up to the large hole in the ceiling to the next floor, nothing lingering to watch her as she moved on in silence.

There sitting on the floor discarded, were the same pair of scissors she had given to Bill when he went into the shop, and as he had mentioned, they were indeed gross looking. One of the sides were broken and completely hanging to the other, the metal burnt and brandished in a thick oil that didn't look anything like blood.

She hadn't dared announced her arrival, but she was sure that It could sense her, smell her and the slight dread on her body, stinking her to her bone like a cold she couldn't get rid of.

Every room she passed and no sign, and she was growing weary she would have to go along and have to go down into the sewers. There had to be a way down there that was easy. She sighed, walking through into a room that had another opened door.

That was when she heard it. Audible as soon as she was even metres from the door hinges, she heard the sound sharp pulsating shrill, a thrum that came to her heart again. Had she had thought nothing of it, it sounded similiar to the hum of a broken AC fan, but there were irregular beats to it. Notes going up and down with no pauses. As if something was in pain.

Taking a nervous breath, Y/N looked down to see a set of stairs descending, and as she did, she was greated with an open view of what could only look like a massive cellar, dark and old, with a well in the middle with broken walls.

The walls with broken bricks cracked and shifted, and the quicker she went down those stairs, the noise died down completely, entirely disappearing into thin air.

Y/N stood just in front of the open well shaft now, daring herself to look down and see what was down there, but thinking otherwise. She still wanted to live just a little bit longer, and being thrown down a well was one way she didn't want to die.

A long small moan longing came from in front of you, and behind the well, where the bricks layered so you could not see. In her despserate times in wanting to get out, Y/N's voice was small and soft, calling into the air with precaution.

"Pennywise?"

Her response was answered with a clanking of bricks falling, a otherworldly sound so loud that resonated through her entire being, washing her up and nearly spitting her out into the unknown, she was worried as to what she would find.

The well creaked with an unwanted force and weight, a sudden clawed hand gripped at it as it broke chunks off with the unintended force. Y/N took small steps, slowly, she walked around the back as she could smell something metallic and dense, something that smelt more like burned gas.

She had come around full to see It there, hunched and laying in a position that made the clown most vulnerable. It's back was towards you, lying there with its long legs stretched, wriggling in convulsions.

Y/N stood for a moment watching. "P-Penny." It's full name didn't come out this time, and she watched.

The eldritch's voice wasn't its usual chipper and creepy tone, the tone to its voice was demonic, ear-splitting and raucous, a true threat to her if she dared get closer. She could see that the entity's teeth were pulled back on the side of its large face, a snarl coming to its lips.

Y/N shifted from foot to foot, looking over the It's appearance. Pennywise was dishevelled, the once vibrant red hair was now dull and matted, wild like a mane of fiery flames. Pennywise clutched at its head, a growl that followed into a long whine, scratching at the flesh with vigour.

Y/N watched as finally the clown turned to her, and she could finally see the problem. There was large rusty fire poker lodged into the side of its head, coming in from the right side and poked into its eyes, the other wildly flitting from space to space surrounding. It came out the other side, and Y/N noticed the same thing red-brown oil substance dripping from the wound, but defying all odds and leaking upwards, towards the high ceiling.

The H/C haired female watched the clown desperately trying to claw the poker out, a screech so ungodly that seemed to almost rumble the entire house. It shook and shook and all Y/N could do was watch and stare, desperately outthinking what she could do. Do not be afraid.

Maybe, just maybe, the poker could be taken out by her, and she-

"Don't. I said leave. Now!" Pennywise's gaze fell to her taking a step towards it leaning there. She almost jumped out of her skin, her hands held in front of her as she just thought of the correct words.

"I... you'll never get it out." She warned, a growl low enough came with a snarl as Pennywise snapped its jaws her way. "Leave. What in your thick-headed mind brought you here?"

Y/N swatted the rude comment away like a fly, thinking of something to say. "I'm here to help."

"Help me by leaving or I'll kill you right here and now. I will tearrr at your flesh like carving thrrrrough butter." It warned threateningly with a low growl, glaring up with its one eye up at her. You won't. She thought. You never will.

A part of herself wanted to turn around and leave, leave It to suffer and know that for once, Pennywise did feel pain when it wasn't inflicting it on others. But the other part wanted her to stick up for herself, to stand up against the entity and Eater of Worlds.

"." Her words made Pennywise twist its head back to you, watching with a gaze full of fury. "I will not leave. Maybe for in your entire existence, you can let someone help you!" Her heart hammered against her chest, staring down the killer clown with as much determination and anger.

One of you were going to have to break, and nothing in her stubborn body would let her, as she finally watched a part of Pennywise crack beneath her harsh gaze, its eyes flickering away from her to look away, a low meek rumble came from its chest.

For once, Y/N could believe that she had won a battle against the clown, as she approached closer and closer until she could feel the power that reverberated through It. It was nothing she had felt that was entirely of this world.

"I'm going to pull it out from the way it was stabbed through." She announced slowly, watching for any reactions. "... On the count of three."

Her fingers lingered, just about touching the poker's pole before the clown shifted on the spot and howled underneath her. Y/N jumped back quickly, a warning to be quick and careful as she went back, looking down at it.

"R-Right... on the count of 3."

Please don't kill me.

This better go well.

F*ck.

Y/N tugged with all her might upwards, trying to feel in hopes of gaining the heaviness of the poker in her hands. With as much strength, she yanked it back until she was suddenly stumbled back, an out-of-body experience she felt when she felt something drip from her fingers, a heavy lead gripped in her palms.

She didn't have time to really react with pride at the fact that she managed to yank that thing out with one try, for a roar of a thunderous screech came from the clown that made Y/N pull back in horror, staring wordlessly in utter dread.

The loud shrill cry was something more than just piercing, but it made Y/N really feel her mortality. Pennywise's mouth was pulled back, those sharp needle-like teeth retracting quicker than she could blink.

It's face pulled back, and Y/N watched in amazement as its face morphed and cleaned up, the wound to its face disappearing in seconds. The claws that were could claw at her flesh and leave he dead, begun to retract, and magically reform into the once off-white gloves it wore. Staring quickly at the poker in her grip, the texture cool in her palms, Y/N tossed it to the side when she saw that her fingers were clean.

Staggering to lean against the well wall, an immense amount of tiredness welled up in her, a tiredness that didn't just ask her to sleep; more so that she was so done with everything. If It wanted her dead still, she didn't exactly care anymore.

Pennywise was breathing heavy still, calming itself from the injuries that had vanished in her sight. Y/N sat just next to It in a heap of unknown emotions, staring off into space as she awaited her fate.

"You came back little bird." The voice was normal, still suit with irregular breathing and a bit heavier in a tone that was deeper than usual. Y/N shrugged, not looking to the side of her. "I guess I did."

There was a silence that settled between them, one that was more than just awkward, it was that type where neither of them could speak or say anything. Y/N was the one finally to fumble through her head for words. "I-- what now Pennywise?"

"I... I need rest." Pennywise huffed heavily, leaning back too in a relaxed posture, their shoulders grazing as Y/N could feel the coolness of the silk from It's costume.