CHAPTER TWO
welcome to the lot

　
THE BROOKLYN DAWN, A SHY BLUSH AGAINST THE TOWERING BRICK, FOUND BEN MEARS stirring first. The air still held the lingering scent of their shared exhaustion and the sweet musk of their endeavors from the night. Beside him, breathing soft and even, lay Evangeline. Her auburn hair surrounded her like a wild halo, a few tendrils in her face. Ben's gaze traced the curve of her cheek, the slight partedness of her lips, a silent testament to the profound peace that settled over her in sleep.

Last night had been a whirlwind of farewells. A boisterous gathering with friends, shared toasts and laughter, promises to keep in touch, all amplified by the knowledge that their next chapter was about to begin. It was a bittersweet symphony of anticipation and departure, a familiar rhythm in their lives, always punctuated by the gentle hum of their shared existence. He remembered the warmth of her hand in his as they'd navigated the crowded restaurant, the way her laughter had bubbled up, infectious and bright, as they'd recounted old anecdotes. And then, the quiet drive home, the anticipation building between them, a palpable current that needed no words.

Now, bathed in the soft, pearly light of morning, his Evey was a study in serene loveliness. He couldn't help himself. Ben leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear. He inhaled the unique fragrance that was purely hers, a scent that had become as essential to his world as the air he breathed. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against her temple. Her skin was impossibly soft, yielding beneath his touch. He trailed a gentle kiss down her cheek, then to the corner of her mouth.

Evey stirred at his touch, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal the deep, sapphire pools of her eyes. A slow smile spread across her face, a light that chased away the last vestiges of sleep.

“Morning,” Ben whispered, his voice husky.

Evey blinked, her gaze settling on him, and a slow smile bloomed across her face. “Mmm, good morning.” Her voice was a low, velvety caress. She stretched languidly, her bare limbs unfolding beneath the duvet. “You woke up before me?”

“Someone has to appreciate the view,” he teased, his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts outlined beneath the thin sheet. The night had been long and passionate, a perfect culmination of their shared anticipation for this new adventure.

She laughed, a sound that never failed to make his heart soar. “You’re incorrigible.” She snuggled closer, her head finding its familiar perch on his chest, her arm wrapping around his waist.

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the faint, sweet scent of her hair. “And you're irresistible.” He lowered his head, seeking her lips. Their kiss was soft at first, a gentle awakening, then deepened, becoming more fervent, the unspoken promise of the day ahead mingling with the lingering passion of the night. Ben's hand found the curve of her hip, then began to slide upward, a silent question.

But Evey, with a surprising burst of energy, pulled away, a playful glint in her eyes. “Now, now, Mr. Mears. We can't let the day get away from us.”

Ben groaned, the sudden cessation of their intimacy a stark disappointment, though he knew she was right. He chased after her lips with his own, a fleeting, desperate plea. “Just five more minutes?”

She giggled, a delightful sound that always melted his resolve. “As tempting as that is, we have a long drive ahead of us. I want to settle in Jerusalem's Lot before nightfall.” She leaned in, her lips meeting his in a final, lingering kiss, a promise of more to come.

Evey pulled herself out of bed, her movements graceful and fluid even in her disheveled state. She walked towards the dresser and grabbed Ben's discarded shirt from the floor with all their other clothes, pulling it over her head.

Ben watched her, captivated. The oversized fabric swallowed her petite frame, the hem falling mid-thigh and the sleeves hanging past her fingertips, creating a beautifully disheveled look. She turned to him, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “I'll get started on breakfast. Don't take too long, my dear writer.”

With a sigh that was half exasperation and half adoration, Ben leaned back against the headboard. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

Ben lay in bed for a few moments more, stretching and savoring the lingering warmth of her presence before finally hauling himself up. He knew she was right. They needed to hit the road soon so they could arrive in Jerusalem's Lot on time━especially since they had no idea where they would be staying when they got there.

The aroma of coffee and eggs filled the air as Ben entered the kitchen. Evey was humming softly, flipping eggs on the stovetop. The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating her auburn hair and highlighting the soft curves of her face and thighs where the hem of his shirt rested. He leaned against the doorway, watching her, a wave of affection washing over him.

“I can feel you watching me,” she said.

“A view like this,” Ben said, “how could I not admire it?”

She bit her lip to contain her smile. “Coffee's ready, eggs are almost done. You better eat up. We have a long day ahead of us, and you need sustenance.”

“Sustenance, right,” Ben conceded, walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the mingled scents of coffee, eggs, and her own unique scent. “But perhaps we could have a moment of… pre-sustenance contemplation before we tackle the logistics of packing the car?”

Evey leaned back into him, her head tilting to rest against his chest. “And what, precisely, does pre-sustenance contemplation entail, my dear author?” she asked, her voice playful.

“Oh, you know,” Ben murmured, his lips brushing her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “A gentle kiss, a whispered promise, perhaps a shared glance that speaks volumes more than any paragraph I could ever write. The usual literary preamble to any significant undertaking.”

Evey laughed softly. “You and your literary pronouncements. While I appreciate the sentiment, Ben, we really do need to get moving. We have a long drive ahead of us.”

She pulled away gently, turning to face him. Her eyes, alight with affection, met his. “Besides,” she added, a mischievous glint in her sapphire depths, “we can have plenty of ‘pre-sustenance contemplation’ when we arrive in Jerusalem's Lot. And maybe, if you're lucky, somewhere along the road, too.”

Ben's grin widened. “You, Evangeline Mears, are a woman who understands the importance of narrative flow, even in life.” He stepped back, giving her space to finish making breakfast. “Alright, alright. You win. Let's fuel up, and then pack the car.”

　
✶
　

The next few hours were a flurry of activity as they showered, got dressed, cleaned up the apartment, and packed the car, a dark blue Citroën. Suitcases were crammed into the trunk, art supplies were carefully arranged on top, and a book sat on the dashboard, ready to be devoured by Evey during the long drive.

“Are you sure we have everything?” Evey asked, surveying the packed car with a critical eye.

“Positive,” Ben said with confidence. “I even remembered to pack your favourite paint brushes.”

She smiled. “I knew there was a reason I married you, Ben Mears.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they were ready to go. Ben closed the trunk with a satisfying thud and turned to Evey, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” she replied, her voice firm and reassuring.

They locked up the apartment, a familiar ritual that suddenly felt fraught with significance. This wasn't just them leaving home for a few hours; it was a prolonged departure, a journey seeking inspiration. Ben pocketed the keys, took his wife's hand, and led her toward the car.

He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture of old-fashioned chivalry that she always appreciated. She slid into the seat, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Ben walked around to the driver's side, took a deep breath, and started the engine.

Evey, ever the planner, had meticulously mapped out their route ahead of time. “Brooklyn, New York to Jerusalem's Lot, Maine,” she announced, consulting a well-worn road atlas spread across the dashboard. “According to this, it's roughly… oh, about seven to eight hours of driving, not including stops.”

“Seven to eight hours? Excellent,” Ben said. “We should be able to make good time. We can grab lunch somewhere along the way.” He pulled out of their familiar parking spot, the city streets of Brooklyn blurring past their windows. The familiar skyline, a comforting silhouette, began to recede, gradually replaced by the open road.

The drive itself was a tapestry of shared moments. The initial hours were filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by Evey's occasional observations about the passing scenery, her artist's eye-catching details Ben might have missed. She pointed out a particularly striking cloud formation, the way the sunlight dappled through the leaves of roadside trees, the weathered beauty of an old barn.

“Look, Ben, that old farmhouse! The way the paint is peeling, the shutters that are half off their hinges… it's so perfectly melancholic.” Her voice was filled with a quiet appreciation.

Ben glanced where she indicated. “You're right. It has character. A story to tell, no doubt. You always see the beauty in the broken things.”

Evey smiled, turning to him. “And you are always the one to put those broken pieces into words. We make a rather good team, don't we?”

“The best,” Ben agreed, offering her a quick, affectionate smile. He loved these moments, the quiet intimacy of shared observation, the way their creative spirits intertwined even in the mundane act of driving.

As the hours passed, the landscape gradually shifted. The urban sprawl of New York gave way to the rolling hills of Connecticut. Then lunchtime arrived, and they decided to pull over at a roadside diner. They ordered some sandwiches and cold sodas, and sat on the hood of their Citroën, enjoying the warm breeze and the open sky.

“This is nice,” Evey said, leaning back on her hands. “Just us, the open road, and a questionable-looking ham sandwich.”

Ben laughed. “Hey, don't knock the ham sandwich. It might be the culinary highlight of our trip.” He took a bite of his sandwich, his eyes closing in appreciation. “Actually, it's not that bad.”

“Always the optimist,” Evey teased. She finished her sandwich and then pulled out her sketchbook and a pencil from her bag. “Mind if I do a quick sketch?”

“Go for it,” Ben said, watching her as she began to draw. He loved watching her work, the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her hand moved effortlessly across the page. He felt a surge of pride. “It always amazes me how you can sketch as fast as you do, and it still looks as good as one of your paintings.”

Evey blushed but didn't look up from her sketch. “Everyone says that.”

“But you're my wife, so I'm biased,” Ben joked.

“Precisely,” Evey hummed, continuing to work on her sketch. She held it out for him to see a few minutes later. “Okay, here's your review. What do you think?”

It was a beautiful drawing of the landscape surrounding them, capturing the endless reach of the road and the way the clouds danced on the horizon. And a silhouette of a man standing near the hood of a familiar looking half-sketched car, who was undoubtedly Ben himself. That made him smile.

“It's amazing, Evey. As always,” Ben said honestly.

She grinned and leaned forward, kissing his cheek.

They packed up their trash and continued their journey, the landscape gradually changing from rolling hills to dense forests. As they crossed the state line into Maine, a sense of anticipation settled over them. They were almost there.

As four in the afternoon neared, they finally saw the sign: JERUSALEM'S LOT ━ 5 MILES. A thrill, a mixture of excitement and a prickle of something akin to unease, ran through Ben. He shifted in his seat, fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

A quarter of a century had passed since he'd last navigated these backroads, these familiar yet unnervingly altered landscapes. Twenty-five years since the quiet, suffocating dread had settled over him like a shroud, cementing itself in his memory. Twenty-five years since this place, Jerusalem's Lot, had claimed his aunt ━ the last family he had left at the time.

“Ben?”

The soft voice of his wife pulled him from his thoughts. Her face, framed by auburn tendrils, was etched with concern. “You spaced out a bit there. Everything okay?”

“Just… remembering,” he replied. “It's been a long time since I've been back here.”

She smiled in understanding.

He reached out, his hand finding hers. Her skin was warm, alive, a stark contrast to the chilling embrace of his recollections brought on by a town sign. He brought her hand to his lips, the rough stubble of his chin grazing her skin. A gesture of reassurance, of connection, of a shared present he desperately wanted to anchor himself to.

He then glanced at his wife, his heart full. “Well, my love,” he said, his voice a low, resonant whisper. “Here we are. Welcome to the Lot.”

a/n: god these two are literally so precious, my heart is going to explode from cuteness overload 😩 and yes, i know, this chapter was much shorter. but i mainly wanted it to focus on the road trip instead of the movie timeline. don't worry, though, nothing but long chapters here on out!

anyways, our beloved evey and ben have finally reached salem's lot. next chapter, it will connect with the timeline of the 2024 movie as we see them outside the marsten house, meeting susan, and getting a room from eva in town!

also, i may or may not have convinced my friend xonceuponatimex to watch the movie, and now she not only bought the book immediately after, but is writing a fic hehe. that said, be sure to check out her new ben mears fic, DARK PLACES!! we are both going to include cameos of each other's ocs in our individual fics so keep an eye out for virginia turner in SUNDOWN and my girl evey in DARK PLACES 😉