All You Need Is Love~

Hi! I haven’t been on Tumblr in over two years.. and I just found this short little draft piece I wrote the last time I was here. It’s something that I put a lot of heart into when I first wrote, and I decided to publish it after all this time. If anyone has any requests for fics or anything, please let me know! I’d love to get back into writing. 

Quick disclaimer; I wrote this a long time ago, and i had no personal experience with OCD, so if this story is completely off I do sincerely apologize! If I got anything wrong, please feel free to *nicely* give feedback and let me know what I screwed up on!

Trigger Warning- self harm ///

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The nights like these were the ones that made Stan regret every decision he's made since he was ten.

Ten was the age when his OCD had slowly started to take over his brain, along with everyone and everything else in his life. At first, it wasn't that bad; just weird that a young boy folded all of his socks and kept everything in order.

What it became over the years, however was a monster over his shoulder. He couldn't sleep at if his sheets weren't tucked, clean and flat. He couldn't just touch something with one hand and not the other without pinching himself, HARD, on both wrists.

When pinching didn't help him anymore, he started putting his hands over lit candles. Which led to razors across wrists, in perfect alignment and symmetry every time.

He didn't know what was wrong. Why couldn't he be normal like his friends? Play at the quarry and have fun without worrying about his feet being perfectly side by side or if his hair was in perfect circle curls. Stan Uris was starting to go mad.

He sat on top of his window sill, looking up at the moon and the stars with a specific... glow that night. His ears were ringing from the yelling he just received from his father about the way Stanley practices his religion.

So what if he honestly didn't give a shit about reading his Torah? Stan had started believing that this was all bullshit; if there was a god out there somewhere he would not let Stan suffer the way he was.

He thought about running over to Richie's, but he knew he had probably ran over to Eddie's for the same reason. Ben's? His mother would talk with his father.... no, that's the last thing he NEEDED.

Beverly and Mike were out roller blading that night alone since everyone else couldn't seem to keep up with the two.

The only person left he could think of was Bill. The boy with the silky pale skin and eyes that made Stan melt. Bill may have been babysitting Georgie that night but honestly, Stan loved that kid and would take any distraction he could get.

And that's how Uris ended up tapping on the pale boy's window, once with each index finger. Twice. For a few seconds, there was nothing, and before Stan could walk away the window slammed open.

"Hey B-bird boy! How can I assist y-you?"

God, did Stan love this boy.

But he rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that, Billiam. Can I crash here tonight?"

They made a knowing eye contact. Bill was the only one who knew about Stan's sad excuse for a father besides for Richie. He planned to keep it that way.

Bill smiles, "Well, are you g-guh-gonna come in?"

The curly haired boy feels himself pulled into the warm room and immediately feel into the familiar bed. It smelled like cinnoman and microwave popcorn.

"Did it h-happen again, Stan?"

He didn't answer, just stared up at the ceiling. He felt a gush of wind as Bill shut the window, run along his wrists.

Stan was wearing a short sleeve shirt.

"Stan?"

"Hmm?"

Bill sighed, "You can t-tell me anything, okay?"

Stan nods frantically, "Yes of course Big Bill....do you have a sweater I can borrow? It's freezing."

The boy oblidged, rummaging through his closet before finding his Ghost Busters hoodie and handing it to the boy.

As Stan reached for it, Bill audibly gulps. His eyes widen, and he scratches his own wrists.

"S-s-Stan?"

The curly haired boy was too busy putting on the hoodie to notice what Bill was freaking over. As soon as he got it over his head though, he squealed.

"Bill, it's not-"

Bill coughs, "How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you been doing this to yourself!" Bill's voice cracked, but it never stuttered.

Stan realized how serious this was.

He lowers his head, "Since I was twelve."

The pale boy's eyes bulged out of his skull. He takes a step back.

"So for the past three years... why d-didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew this would happen!"

Bill raised an eyebrow, "...what to you mean?”

Stan could feel his heart racing a million miles per minute... it was almost as if he could feel the imprint of his heart if he touched his chest. He knew Bill was angry at him, shit he’d be angry at himself. He wanted to tell someone, anyone, but every time he tried the words wouldn’t come out. 

And that’s what happened this time, too. He opened his mouth to speak... but the same lump in his throat formed. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Tears pooled in his eyes, blurring his vision. Stan started to pinch himself, hard, two times on each wrist repeatedly, begging for it to help him calm down. Nothing was working.

Stan could hear Bill trying to talk to him, but it was almost as if he was screaming from a distance. His body turned to jello, and felt himself double over into Bill’s arms. 

He didn’t want to disappoint anyone ever, and now he’s disappointed one of the most important people on the planet.

As Stan came to, he could feel the warmth on his back from Bill’s arms, holding him firmly and calming him. His breathing slowed, his heart began casually thumping at a normal pace. The curly headed boy allowed himself to lay his head in the crevice of Bills shoulder.

“I didn’t... I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.” It came out in between sniffles and coughs, but god damnit it came out and that was all that mattered.

Bill lifted up Stan’s head, and used his thumbs to wipe the tears off the boy’s cheeks. He looked directly into Stanley’s eyes, and Stan could feel himself swimming in the deep pools.

“I will never be disappointed in you struggling.”

The two boys hugged for a couple of minutes; neither knowing what to say,  instead allowing the silence to speak for them. Every second that passed, the tighter the two squeezed, and the more safe Stan felt. He hadn’t felt this safe since the last time his mother tucked him in at night. 

Suddenly, there was padded footsteps coming down the hall, followed by a quiet knock at the door.

“Billy...? The timer went off for the brownies a couple minutes ag-”

Bill jumped, and looked up over at Stan, “I t-tuh-totally forgot, tonight w-w-was movie night. Do you want to j-j-join us?”

“Yes please,” Stan couldn’t hold his laughter at Bill’s fluster, as he ran out to check the oven.

When Stan sat on the Denbrough couch, with his head on Bill’s shoulder and Georgie laid across his lap... he realized everything would be okay in the end. He bit each of his cheeks, smiled, and looked up at the opening scene.