#the dead mind flayer caught me so off guard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dumdumsun · 2 years

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Break and Mend

A/N: Back into our no Doc era

Warnings: no Doc, sedation, blood, violence, guns, gunshots, child abuse, character death (RIP Bob), mentions of death/dying

Word Count: 4931

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Chapter Fifteen: The Mind Flayer

The blaring of the alarms throughout the lab caught the attention of Bob and Mike, the former still trying to calm the boy. Mike looked up with a start. “We’re too late.” He whispered. Bob frowned at him.

“What?”

“We’re too late!”

Mike took off down the hall and into Will’s room, where Joyce was confusedly walking towards him. “What’s going on?”

“We’re under attack.” He rushed to a counter and picked up a syringe. “We need to make Will sleep.”

“What?”

“He’s a spy. If he knows where we are, so does the shadow monster.”

Will stared at Mike with wide eyes, moving to sit up. “He’s lying!”

“He killed those soldiers. He’ll kill us, too!”

“He’s lying!” Will thrashed about against Joyce and Bob’s hands. “He’s lying! He’s lying! He’s lying! He’s lying!”

Suddenly, the blast of gunshots could be heard from outside the room.

“Those are gunshots!” Bob warned. They had little time to focus on that when Will was still screaming at the top of his lungs.

“He’s lying! He’s lying!”

Joyce quickly turned to her son. “Okay, Will, Will, listen, listen. Do you know who I am?”

Will ceased his screaming, staring at her with big, dark eyes that used to glisten in the light. His breathing was labored and he tried to put away his teeth that he was baring. But he hadn’t answered the question yet.

“Do you know who I am?!”

“You’re…”

Joyce was already beginning to lose hope that Will was still there.

“You’re… You’re Mom.”

The pause was too long, he hesitated too much to be trusted. Joyce turned to Bob with a hardened look. “Hold him down.”

Will whimpered out and followed her with his eyes as Bob held him down. “No! No! Let go! No! No!”

His screaming got louder as Joyce filled the syringe and made her way back to the bed. “Let me go! Let me go! No, let me go!”

“I’m sorry,” She whispered as she pulled up his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Let me go! Let go! Let me go!”

Mike covered his ears as he watched Joyce stick him with the needle.

“No! Let go! Let me go… Let me go…”

Just as his body went limp, Hopper and Dr Owens burst into the room with panting breaths. Hopper took one look at Will and then the syringe in Joyce’s hand to know what happened. What had to happen. His attention was pulled back outside where the doors down the hall were being busted open. “We gotta go. We gotta go.” Hopper rushed over to Will and picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder and rushing out of the room. Joyce swiped another bottle of anesthesia and followed him out.

The lot of them rushed down a hallway where several scientists were fleeing. They would have been right there behind them had a body not slid across the floor followed by an inhumane snarl. Hopper stopped, forcing everyone behind him to do the same. On their other side, guards were shooting at more of the monsters that invaded the lab. They were directed into a room right in front of them by Dr Owens, locking themselves in. Hopper gently and carefully laid Will on a table.

“Oh, my god.”

Everyone turned to Bob, who was facing the screens that showed surveillance of the lab. Around nearly every corner was a small-sized Demogorgon, feasting on unlucky scientists or chasing the ones that were still attempting to flee. Above them, the light began to violently flicker before the screens went dead and the room they were in became pitch black.

“Oh, my god.”

-------------------------------------------------

In the Hargrove-Mayfield residence, rock music loudly blasted from the bedroom belonging to the Hargrove teen. Billy lit a cigarette in his mouth and gazed into his mirror, bouncing to his music with a wicked grin as he breathed out the smoke.

Billy applied hairspray to define his curls and dabbed cologne onto his wrists and down his pants. He smiled at himself in satisfaction as he checked how his pants fit snug on his body before he leaned down even closer. He removed the cigarette from his lips and slowly exhaled the smoke onto the glass, sending himself a flirtatious wink.

The knocking on his door tarnished the moment, along with the voice of his stepmother. “Billy?”

“Yeah, I’m a little bit busy in here, Susan.”

What tarnished the entire night for him was his father, Neil, booming on the other side. “Open the door! Right now!”

With a silent sigh, Billy lowered his music just a bit and went to his door, taking a deep breath and opening it. Susan, with hair as fiery as her daughter’s, stood on the other side of the door with a worried expression. Neil stood beside her very unhappily.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asked his father.

“Why don’t you tell us?”

“Because I don’t know.”

Susan answered his question, a lot more gentle than Neil. “We can’t find Maxine.”

“And her window’s open.”

Billy looked away, inwardly cursing his stupid, stupid stepsister. She just couldn’t stay in one place. Seeing the look of realization on his son’s face, Neil widened his eyes. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” Billy quietly replied.

“You don’t know?” He scoffed.

“Look, I’m sure she just, I don’t know, went to the arcade or something. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Billy walked away and over to his closet. Neil ran a hand over his mouth and followed him in, watching as he plucked a jacket off one of the hangers. “You were supposed to watch her.”

“I know, Dad. I was.” Billy sighed and slung the jacket on. “It’s just you guys were three hours late, and, well, I have a date.” He turned to him and fluffed his hair out from under the jacket. “I’m sorry.”

Neil crossed his arms. “So, that’s why you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot instead of watching your sister?”

And that was when Billy snapped. “I have been looking after her all week, Dad! Okay?! She wants to run off, then that’s her problem, alright?! She’s 13 years old, she shouldn’t need a full-time babysitter. And she’s not my sister!”

Just as Billy shut his music off, Neil grabbed him and harshly slammed him against the wall. Billy grunted, his face falling into what he hoped was a neutral expression. Neil tried to steady his breathing and keep the rest of his anger at bay. “What did we talk about?”

No response. Billy received a harsh slap across the face that made even Susan wince. Neil grabbed his son’s face and turned him to look at him. “What. Did. We. Talk about?”

Billy squared his jaw, the only part of his face twitching being his eyebrows. “Respect and responsibility.”

“That is right. Now, apologize to Susan.”

He stared his father in the eyes as he inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to cry right then and there. “I’m sorry, Susan.”

Susan shook her head at the scene, now feeling guilty about bringing anything up to her husband. “It’s okay, Neil, really-”

“No, it’s not okay! Nothing about his behavior is okay! But he’s gonna make up for it,” He turned to his wife, who couldn’t even meet his eyes. “He’s gonna call whatever whore he’s seeing tonight and cancel their date. And then he’s gonna go find his sister,” He turned back to his son. “Like the good, kind, respecting brother that he is. Isn’t that right, Billy?”

Billy was too frightened to even answer, one tear on the verge of falling from his eye.

“Isn’t that right?!”

He stared his father in the eyes with a look of terror and humiliation on his face. “Yes, sir.” He quietly responded. Neil deeply sighed and stepped closer to him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes. Sir.” He repeated louder this time. Neil’s deadly eyes stayed locked on his.

“Find Max.”

He didn’t need to give an “or else”. Billy knew the threat, the promise behind that demand. He watched his father walk out of his room, Susan wordlessly moving out of his way. Billy didn’t even wait for her to close the door to let his tears fall, but he did wait to angrily slam his cologne bottle to the ground, covering his face as the glass shattered.

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Max was beginning to grow tired of the boys’ consistent talking. She was currently walking beside Lucas, behind Steve and Dustin. They had been walking the train tracks for some time now, shining their flashlights around the area for anything that looked out of the ordinary.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asked.

“Yes,” Dustin quietly replied. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

Max shook her head. “He was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.”

“Malted?” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Molted.” Dustin corrected. “Shed his skin to make room for growth like hornworms.”

A short silence settled before Max broke it. “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“It’s gotta be soon. When he does, he’ll be fully grown, or close to it. And so will his friends.”

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, and he’s gonna eat a lot more than just cats.”

“Wait,” Lucas held Dustin by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, which caused everyone else to do the same. “A cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what?” Dustin lied through his nonexistent teeth. “No.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve continued. “He ate Mews.”

“Mews?” Max looked between them. “Who’s Mews?”

“It’s Dustin’s cat.”

Dustin widened his eyes. “Steve!”

Lucas shoved Dustin in the shoulder. “I knew it! You kept him!”

“No!” He tried as Lucas raised his brows, waiting on a lousy excuse. “No. No, I… No, I… He missed me. He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit!”

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?!”

“Oh, so now you admit it?!”

Max tried to intervene. “Guys, who cares? We have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas turned back to Dustin. “You put the Party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” Dustin fired back.

“What?!”

Dustin shone his light in Max’s face, causing her to rear back. “You told a stranger the truth!”

Max scoffed with a sarcastic smile. “A stranger?!”

“You wanted to tell her, too!” Lucas continued.

“But I didn’t, Lucas, okay?! I didn’t tell her!”

Screeching in the distance caught Steve’s attention.

“We both broke the rule of law, okay? So we’re even. We’re even!”

“No, no! We’re not even! Don’t even try that! Your stupid pet could have ate us for dinner!”

“That was not my fault!”

“Guys?” Steve called out.

“He wasn’t gonna eat us!”

“He was crawling to come say hello?!”

“Guys!”

The kids stopped their arguing and turned to the teen in charge, who was staring out into the distance. He said not another word to them, but didn’t need to when they heard the screeching. Steve wordlessly walked in the direction of the sound with Dustin and Lucas following behind.

“No, no, no. Hey, guys, why are you headed towards the sound?” Max stayed rooted in her spot. “Hello? Hello?!” She cursed under her breath and hurried to catch up to them. They followed the screeching until they came upon a hill with a view of Hawkins. There wasn’t much to see besides tall trees and the fog that blanketed them.

“I don’t see him.” Dustin spoke.

Lucas held his binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the area until he spotted a darkened building, a pit forming in his stomach. “It’s the lab,” He lowered his binoculars. “They were going back home.”

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From within the lab, little Demogorgons still patrolled the halls that were littered with dead bodies and blood. But in the surveillance room, Dr Owens was marking a map of the lab. “Look, this is us, and this is the nearest exit,” He circled a few spots. “But even if we somehow make it there, there’s no way out.”

“What do you mean?” Hopper asked, shining his light down on the paper to allow Owens to see in the dark.

“The locks are fail secure.”

“Fail secure?” Joyce asked.

“If there’s a power outage, the building goes on lockdown.”

“Can it be unlocked remotely?” Bob asked.

“With a computer, sure, but somebody’s gotta reset the breakers.”

“Where are the breakers?” Hopper determinedly asked.

“Breakers are in the basement, three floors down.”

With that, Hopper headed towards the door. Bob quickly followed.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Hopper turned to him. “To reset the breakers.”

“Okay, then what?”

“Then we get out of here.”

“No, then the power comes back on. If you wanna unlock the doors, you have to reboot the computer system, and then override the security codes with a manual input.”

Hopper fell silent for a second. “Fine, how do I do that?”

“You can’t. Not unless you know BASIC.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

It was Mike’s turn to speak, “It’s a computer programming language.”

“Teach it to me.” Hopper inched closer to Bob, who scoffed right in his face.

“Shall I teach you French while I’m at it, Jim? How about a little German?” He turned to Owens. “How about you, doc? You speak BASIC?”

Dr Owens sighed. “No.”

Bob nodded, already knowing what the solution was and what had to be done. “Okay, I got this,” He turned to Hopper. “I got this.”

“No, Bob.” Joyce slowly shook her head, bringing her boyfriend into a hug.

“It’s okay,” He hugged back before pulling away and looking into her eyes with a smile that was either encouraging her or himself, he wasn’t entirely sure. “It’s gonna be okay. Remember, Bob Newby, superhero.”

She chuckled lightly with a trying smile, ever charmed by his geeky nature. Bob and Hopper made their escape from the room and to the stairwell. Hopper carefully opened the door that led to another hallway and dragged the corpse of a guard toward them.

“Okay, grab his walkie.”

Bob did as he was told, placing the walkie in his pocket and plugging in the earpiece. Hopper nodded and took the gun from the guard’s holster. “Alright, you know how to use one of these?”

“No.” Bob panted.

Hopper clicked the safety on and off. “Safety on. Safety off,” He aimed the gun in an area away from the two of them. “Point. Squeeze.” He then handed the gun to Bob, who shakily held it in his hand.

“Point and squeeze. Okay. Easy-peasy.”

Hopper moved Bob’s accidental aim away from him. “If anything happens down there, I want you to come right back up.”

Bob nodded, a sudden dread crashing down onto him. “Right back here. Listen. Don’t wait for me. As soon as I get those doors open…”

“I’m gonna get them out.”

“Yeah?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, well…” Bob nervously glanced down. “I’ll be in touch.”

Hopper watched as he descended the stairs. Outside the lab, behind the closed gate, a car pulled up to the empty security booth. Jonathan and Nancy exited the car and stared up at the dark building.

“Why are the lights off?” Jonathan wondered aloud.

“Maybe it’s closed?” Nancy offered.

“Security took the night off? I don’t think so.” He headed inside the booth, clicking the button marked ‘OPEN’, but to no avail. He tried again and again, Nancy walking to his side when hearing the insistent clicking of the button.

“It’s not working?”

“No! The power’s off.”

Nancy’s attention was brought to the trees off to the side, rustling sounding from them. “Jonathan?”

“What?”

“I think there’s something in the woods.”

Jonathan tried to hold Nancy back, but she was heading straight for potential danger within the woods. “Hello? Who’s there?” He called out to the light behind the trees, but it only moved further towards them. “Who’s there?!”

What they didn’t expect to see was Steve Harrington stepping out of the woods with Dustin, Lucas and Max right behind him, and they voiced their surprise in unison,

“Steve?!”

“Nancy?” Steve moved towards them.

“Jonathan.” Dustin did the same.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy incredulously asked.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin asked.

“We’re not sure.”

“What about (Y/N)?”

Lucas stepped forward. “Mike said she went home because she was upset about something.”

Nancy frowned. “Well… I was told she was at Sheriece Jacobi’s house for a sleepover.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “I called Sheriece and Brenda and they both said she never came to either of their houses. She never spoke to anyone?” He looked around at the group, who shook their heads. “So, basically, no one knows where (Y/N) is in a serious time of a crisis?!”

“Crisis?” Jonathan shook his head. “What crisis?”

From within the lab, the screeching sounded again. Bob had made it into the basement lit eerily by the glow of the yellow light. “Keep it together, Bob.” He muttered to himself after jumping at the hissing air from a pipe he was passing by. He tried to swallow his nerves and bile, but the bloodied bodies he shone his light on didn’t necessarily help calm him down. Luckily, after stepping around them, he had found the breakers labeled ‘MAIN POWER’ on the other side of the room. With a breath of relief, he hurried over.

Lever after lever was pulled upwards, casting light onto the once dim lab. In the surveillance room, the group perked up when the lights above flicked on. Mike turned to the screens once they had turned back on to see what was going on outside the room. A smile crept onto his face as the others gathered beside him.

“He made it.”

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“Wait, so (Y/N)’s just out there? With those things running around?!”

“Well, she had to have some agenda since she lied to everyone.”

“Maybe Will and Mike know where she actually is.”

“Okay, so let’s find them and ask them!”

Nancy pushed her way through the overlapping voices currently worrying about the whereabouts of her younger sister. She was terrified, herself, but the sudden glow of the lab had distracted her for a moment’s time. “The power’s back.” She announced, hushing the group.

They immediately ran back to Jonathan’s car and to the security booth. Jonathan lunged himself inside and clicked the ‘OPEN’ button, but the gate didn’t budge. He continued to click the button in hopes that it would eventually work when Dustin joined his side.

“Let me try.”

“Hang on-”

“Let me try, Jonathan!” Dustin pushed him back and began to do the exact same thing. He glanced up at the gate to see if he had made any sort of difference, but he had not. “Son a bitch! You know what…” He slammed his palm onto the button repeatedly.

Inside the lab, Dr Owens sat himself in front of the radio setup in order to communicate with Bob, who he could see on the screens was sitting in front of a computer in a different room. “Okay, Bob, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, doc. Can you hear me back?”

“We hear you.”

“Alright, give me a minute.”

The group waited in unsettling silence after Bob stopped talking. Will was still unconscious on the table and Joyce was by his side. Hopper and Mike stood together in front of the screens to monitor what was going on in the halls.

“Open sesame.”

A beep sounded throughout the building, gaining Owens’s attention. “It’s open.” He breathed. Outside, the gate opened and granted the group access to the lab. Jonathan brushed past Dustin, who was proudly smiling. “Hey! I got it!” The Henderson boy chuckled as everyone gathered in front of the opening gate.

Inside, Hopper grinned at the footage displayed on the screens. “Son of a bitch did it.”

“Right, I’ll meet you outside.”

“Nice job.” Owens smiled, watching Bob start to exit the room. When his gaze drifted to another screen, his smile dropped. “Hold on a second, Chief.”

Hopper paused from where he was headed out of the room and turned to the doctor. “What’s wrong?”

“West stairwell’s not clear anymore.”

The sight of a small Demogorgon climbing down the stairs could be seen, sending a strike of fear through Joyce at the knowledge that Bob was still out there.

“What’s going on?”

“We’ve got some company.”

“Where?”

“The west stairwell.”

“I got an idea.”

They watched the screen that monitored Bob as he came into view and sat himself at the computer again. They watched in another unsettling silence as he typed away on the keyboard.

“Okay. And… splash.”

On one screen, they could see the sprinklers from the ceilings spray on in a hallway above the creature. On another screen, it perked its head up at the noise and bolted up the stairs with a chitter, stepping on a corpse on the stairs as it went. Owens stared in pleased disbelief. “Okay. Okay, that worked. Now get out of there. Go! Go!”

Hopper picked Will up and carefully slung him over his shoulder. He, Joyce and Mike headed towards the door to leave when Owens quickly stood. “Wait a second, Chief.” He handed Hopper his walkie. “Take this.”

“What are you doing?” He asked as he took the device into his hand.

“Any more surprises, I’ll let you know. Go. Go!”

Hopper sighed and did as he was told, leading them out of the room. Everyone had been so distracted from the screens that no one had noticed Bob hastily leaving the room without the gun.

Mike and Joyce were led through the dead silent lab with Hopper in front of them, gun at the ready. They had successfully made their way to the unlocked exit. Hopper and Mike burst through the doors, but Joyce stopped herself and turned around, heart beating down in her stomach. “Come on, Bob. Come on.”

Bob rounded the corner into a silent and empty hallway when Dr Owens contacted him again.

“Hey, Bob?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna guide you, okay?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, it’s just… it’s, uh, getting a little crowded up here, so we’re gonna have to take this slow.”

Bob let out a shaky exhale. “Okay.”

“Alright, just start walking.”

He turned forward and cautiously did as he was told, making his way towards the end of the hall.

“Okay, good.”

Bob slowly turned the corner, hoping to god nothing lurked in that hall, but he trusted Dr Owens. He wouldn’t lead him to his own demise.

“Okay, now, your next right.”

He followed his instructions and turned down his right, continuing on with his pace picking up the more frightened he became, his light casting on the bloodied bodies lying limp on the floors.

“Now, keep going, keep going, keep going… Stop!”

Bob skidded to a stop, raising the walkie to his mouth. “What? What?”

“Bob, there’s a door on your left, do you see that?”

He turned to the closed door on his left. “Yeah?”

“That’s a closet.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I need you to get in it.”

“What?”

“Now! Right now. Get in the closet.”

His light frantically moved every which way and he backed himself into the closet and shut the door, pressing his body against the shelf behind him with a quiet clatter. He flicked off his light to keep from being seen by whatever was outside, his slow breaths stuttering into panted huffs.

From outside the door, he could hear growling before the shadow of the creature casted by the light in the hall bled into the closet. Bob shut his eyes and held his breath as it growled again. His silence must have proven enough for it, for it had stalked away after a few short moments. Bob quietly gasped for air as his heart returned to his chest.

“How you holding up there, Bob? You alright?”

Bob shakily raised the walkie to his mouth. “Y-Yeah. Yeah.”

“You got a pretty clear shot to the front door.”

He nodded as tears of fear and relief built up behind his eyelids. “Okay.”

“You can do this, okay? You’re almost home free, alright, Bob?”

As terrified as he was, outside this door may have been those creatures, but past them was the Chief, carrying the young boy he had grown close with, who he hoped to call his son one day. Outside this room was Joyce. She was counting on him. They all were. All he had to do was make it to them. He had to be their superhero. Her superhero.

Creaking the door open, Bob quietly made his way out of the closet. Dr Owens had a view of the entire lab. He was safe. He just had to make it out as quickly and as quietly as possible. As long as he had his strength and Dr Owen’s eyes, he was safe. He could do this. He knew it.

And then the mop fell.

It had brushed past his arm too fast for him to catch it, thudding to the floor with a loud smack. His heart slammed against his ribcage in shattering thumps as he slowly turned to his right. The creature hadn’t turned the corner yet. It was still at the end of the hall. Slowly turning to Bob. Spotting its next target.

“Run!”

He needed to hear nothing more for him to start sprinting down the hall. The hell-bent screeches of the creature sounded behind him as he turned the corner. He glanced over his shoulder to see the creature smack against the wall and push itself off of it, surging towards Bob. He let out a scream as he slammed his way through a set of double doors. Down the hall was nothing but his escape, the doors that led to the lobby, that led to the front door, that led to Joyce.

The monster’s growling intensified as he reached the door, fiddling with the handle for a second before flinging it open. He slipped through the door and shut it behind him. He backed away from the doors as he watched it budge with the force of the creature throwing itself against it. But he was safe now. He was safe. Exhaling, he bent over and braced his hands on his knees.

“Bob!”

He turned around to find Joyce smiling at him. God, he loved that smile. It was so contagious that he couldn’t help but return it. He slowly rose to stand up straight, the world falling peaceful for one second.

Only for it to crumble in the next, when one of the monsters came seemingly from nowhere, tackling Bob to the ground with a screech. Joyce’s screams could be heard as he tried to wrestle with it, but it was no use. It was much stronger.

It raised one of its arms and swung down, piercing its nails into Bob’s side, the man letting out a blood-curdling scream.

“No!” Joyce cried. “No!”

Just as Bob was faced with the rows and rows of teeth the monster had opened its face to reveal, it reared back a bit when hit with a round of bullets. Hopper had appeared at the sobbing Joyce’s side, firing his gun off at the creature. He quickly turned his gun to the two other creatures that had just broken down the door Bob had shut. Three more joined behind them. He couldn’t take all of them.

“Go!” He screamed to Joyce. But she didn’t listen, not when Bob was being ripped apart by those things. Hopper had no choice but to grab her, no matter how much she struggled.

“No! Bob!” She reached her hand out, a sob escaping her throat when he shakily reached back. She could do nothing but squirm in Hopper’s hold as he dragged her to the door, pressing the button to allow them access outside. “Bob! No!”

“What happened?!” Mike screamed when the two were out, the boy holding up the unconscious Will as best he could.

“No!” Joyce screamed as the monsters who weren’t feasting on Bob threw themselves at the glass doors. “No!”

“He’s gone!” Hopper turned her towards him. “He’s gone!”

The sound of a horn honking could be heard, grabbing Mike and Hopper’s attention. Jonathan pulled up in his car with Nancy in the passenger seat, his breath hitching at his limp brother and distressed mother. “Come on! Get in!”

Hopper took Will into his arms once again as Mike helped Joyce to the car. At the security booth, Steve was left with the kids. Lucas nervously shifted in his spot as Dustin paced back and forth. Max, at the sound of a car in the distance, took a few steps forward. “Guys?”

Two pairs of headlights shone on them as Jonathan’s car sped forwards, Hopper’s truck following behind. Jonathan honked to urge everyone out of the way. The four flew back to avoid being run over before he sped past them. Hopper screeched to a stop and put the truck in park. “Let’s go!”

Steve sprung into action and opened the door, ushering the kids into the vehicle before climbing in and shutting the door, the car speeding off behind Jonathan once again.

And in the lab, Bob’s lifeless eyes were glued to the ceiling, his body jolted this way and that as creature after creature after creature joined in on the feasting of his organs.

Bob Newby. Superhero.

—————————————

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#stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #st #st fic #st x reader #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #will byers #eleven #jane ives #max mayfield #will byers x reader #lost and found #break and mend

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lluvguts · 3 years

Text

stargazing // byler

pairing: will byers / mike wheeler & eleven / max mayfield

genre/warnings: mainly fluff! some soft angst

word count: 2502

summary: Where the party goes laser tagging for Will's 16th birthday and something happens that Mike will never forget aka that first kiss no one asked for.

n/a: post season 3 spoilers!! you’ve been warned!

March 22nd, 1987

6:37 pm

“Lucas, I don’t even care if it’s Will’s birthday, so help me if you crash this car I’m making Eleven open the gate and feed you to the Demodogs,” Dustin yelled from the front seat of the Henderson’s van with the rest of the group piled in the back.

“El can’t do that anymore, genius.” Max had her hands clasped in Eleven’s lap.

“I have my license, Dustin. Stop freaking out,” Lucas groaned but still reduced his speed by a few miles.

“Lie-sense?” Eleven looked to Max.

“Can we please stop arguing?” Mike hollered over the shouting from the back of the van, as well as Max’s arm stretching across the console to crank the volume louder on the radio.

The party had decided to celebrate Will Byer’s sixteenth birthday in the most acceptable way possible: laser tag. The boys had outgrown Dungeons & Dragons—for the most part—but that didn’t stop them from pooling their money and planning on spending the night shooting each other with lasers and eating junk food like children; if anything it brought back the nostalgia of their middle school antics. The girls, on the other hand, didn’t care for the game as much—although Eleven had a difficult time wrapping her head around the entire idea of laser tagging—and they only went for the sake of Will and to spend time together.

The van slowly turned into the parking lot of the laser tag center and the chatter subsided.

“Is this what you wanted for your birthday?” Mike turned to Will. The other boy gave a shy smile and nodded. No matter how many weeks since they’d announced their relationship to the party and their parents—even realizing it themselves—Will’s affectionate gestures made Mike’s heart beat a little faster, and his eyes linger on the boy’s face a little longer. He wasn’t used to it yet, he’d never been in a real relationship. And his smile is driving me mad.

Will took Mike’s hand and pulled him out of the last row of seats. As he jumped down from the van Mike’s eyes flickered to his shorts. Only briefly. Were they always that..short? His heart leapt from his chest and he looked away, embarrassed, only to find their intertwined fingers. Will caught Mike’s flustered expression.

“What?” he laughed and held up their hands, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Mike said, his face reddening. “Uh, I mean, you don’t have to. Sorry, it’s just all so new-“

“Hey! Birthday boy! Get over here! You too, stupid,” Max called, pointing to the Polaroid camera in her hands while the rest of the group huddled around the front entrance for the photo.

Will smiled up at the dark haired boy and lead them over to the others. Max held the camera out in front of her as the rest of the group filed behind her, grinning. Will snaked his hand over Mike’s shoulders and Eleven draped her arms around Max from behind.

“Cheese!”

“Mike, stop looking at Will, look at the camera,” Lucas snapped.

They all laughed as the light flashed.

“I took a few, so you all get a copy.” Max let the film develop for a few seconds and handed them each a photo. Mike took one and before he slid it into his pocket he showed it to Will, both staring at their cheeky grins. He already knew where he’d keep the photo—on the bulletin board in his bedroom, amongst ticket stubs, poems and sketches Will had done, and photos of the group when they were younger; right next to the many polaroids he’d snapped of Will. A collage of his hazel eyes. His beautiful, bright eyes.

“Cute, Mikey,” Will whispered. Was he talking about the picture? Or him?

Will briefly touched Mike’s shoulder then caught up with the rest of them, leaving him to stare at the smiles on the film, hiding his blush.

7:02 pm

“Boys against girls!”

“How is that fair?” Eleven hissed, “It’s just the two of us.”

“We can join a group that’s already in there,” Will added.

“You’re all such a headache. Let’s just split it into two groups. Me, Mike and Dustin on the red team. Will, Lucas and Eleven on blue. Deal?” Max counted off on her fingers.

Mike looked around the area as the others went with their teams and pulled on the correct vests and guns.

“Need some help?” Max asked and went to her girlfriend’s side, she was holding the gear in her arms with a startled expression like she was handling a bomb. She giggled as Max guided the heavy vest over her head and adjusted it to her small waist. Eleven watched it all in wonder, then looked up at her face.

“Pretty,” She said to Max and leaned in for a hug, their pink cheeks pressed close.

“See Will? It’s that simple,” Dustin whispered loudly and then chuckled while he watched the girls. Will punched Dustin in the arm and his eyes quickly met Mike’s from across the neon lit waiting room.

Will was about to say something to him, not in words. In his stare. But the booming voice from the overhead speaker filled the room.

“Game begins in five,” The announcer said.

“Alright. I’m going to go with my team. You remember the rules?” Max had her hands on Eleven’s shoulders, staring into her eyes.

Mike tried to make Will look again, but he was talking to Dustin as they headed into a different room. What was he going to say? What was so simple?

Eleven pointed to Max’s glowing chest, “Shoot the red vests. Hide. Be quiet.”

“See? You’ll do great,” Max hugged her one last time and went over to the door, “But, I am going to win.”

“We’ll see about that, Mad Max.” Lucas shouted and patted their shoulders companionably.

A buzzer sounded as the main doors opened; Mike’s team rushed inside to station themselves around the maze. The arena was pitch black save for the neon lights across the carpeted floor and a constellation of yellow artificial stars on the ceiling. He knew that Will’s team was somewhere on the opposite side, lurking in the shadows. Waiting to stake the perfect moment to strike. The visual made Mike’s heart race and he was drowning in worry.

He could only think of Will. It’s gonna be just like that time at the arcade. Just like Halloween. He’s gonna be walking and everything’s fine until someone jumps out and it triggers a memory in his mind. What if he can’t control it, and the figure in front of him suddenly turns into a Demogorgon? Or the Mind Flayer in his head?

Mike crept around the curved bend in the maze and quietly ducked into a dark alcove to think. A shout suddenly echoed and floated up into the air, the resonant cry drifting to Mike’s ears. To anyone else the sound only meant that someone had gotten caught off guard and a laser to the chest.

What if that’s Will? Is he okay?

Mike sat up slowly, hoping to find Will and make sure he was safe; he turned his head around the edge of the alcove and in the sound of slamming plastic someone crashed into him. He staggered back, registering the face.

“Oh. Will, thank God. I was going to see-“

Before he could get out the last of his sentence Will took the barrel of his laser gun and pinned Mike back against the alcove wall.

He couldn’t speak.

Mike only watched Will draw his lips up to his mouth, frozen in surprise. Will squeezed the trigger as their lips parted at the same time, as though they’d wanted this from the start. He kissed Will back and shuddered when he felt a brush of those teeth along the front of his flushed lips; Mike dropped his gun and grabbed at his face, embracing the startling sensation when Will pressed himself closer, trapping him. Oh God, don’t move. Don’t pull away, Mike pleaded.

The trigger went off and Mike’s vest buzzed and filled the space with flashing red light—but Will didn’t let go. He just rooted him in place by the tip of the gun, its weight carrying all throughout the plastic front of his vest and into his pounding heart.

Will sighed into his open mouth, making Mike shudder involuntarily before he moved his body away. The air was filled with the sound of their shaky breathing.

“That’s what I wanted for my birthday,” Mike’s heart sped up at his gruff, breathy voice.

Mike reached for him again, “W-Wait-“

“Shhh,” Will whispered and placed his hand on Mike’s face, smirking, “You’re dead, Wheeler.”

He rushed out of the alcove with a smile plastered on his face before Mike could run after him. The vest shook once more, signaling his loss, before the color faded and died. Mike slid down onto the floor and brought his fingers to his hot cheeks. His lips started to burn as the last few minutes replayed in his head, making his breathing turn ragged again and his stomach twist back into messy, feverish knots.

Mike felt the pulse roar in his ears, still staring at the empty space where Will was only moments before. Where he’d just kissed him.

What just happened?

8:49 pm

“Our team,” Eleven started, staring hopelessly out the car window into the night, “Lost.”

“Yep,” Dustin sighed, “That’s what happens when you’re up against the best.”

Mike ignored their arguing and stared out the back window at the stars. They covered the dark sky, too many to count, thousands of glittering and radiant sparks—they reminded him of Will’s eyes. So full of amber light and happiness, no matter the circumstance.

“Hey.” Mike flinched when there was a tap on his shoulder. Any touch from him and Mike turned into a live wire, his lungs forgot how to work and his heart thrashed wildly inside his aching chest. He longed to let Will’s touch linger, to sustain the burning, fluttering sensation.

“Yeah?” He whispered, taking the time to even his breathing before he looked at Will.

His eyes flickered between Mike’s, searching his face. “Was that alright?”

“Was what alright?”

“Back in the arena..you know..”

Mike’s cheeks burned tomato red as he remembered the softness of his lips and quickly murmured, “Oh, yeah. That was really nice Will, I just-“

“What?” He leaned in, as if getting closer would help to understand. Mike’s body tensed at the hurt beginning to show on Will’s face.

“It..kinda caught me off guard.”

Will paused. “Do you want me to ask you next time? If it’s okay?”

Mike nodded.

Will smiled at their bodies, intentionally placed as far apart as possible. “Can I hold your hand?”

He nodded again and Will slipped his hand into Mike’s, letting his fingers trail absently along the front of his knuckles.

“Mike, this is your stop,” Lucas said from the driver’s seat. Will held his hand tighter.

“Could I come too?” Will asked him quietly, “My mom wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course,” Mike hid his red face as he climbed over the back seat to the car door.

“Aight. Happy birthday, Will,” Dustin said and waved at the two.

He gave Dustin a shy smile. “Thanks, guys. It was really fun.”

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Max shouted out the window as the van sped away.

They stared at each other for a moment, in the quiet of the night, standing in front of the Wheeler’s unlit driveway. Until the front door swung open and Nancy was calling from the porch.

“Guess we better go in then,” Mike whispered, caught up in Will’s gaze.

He looked away, grinning. “Yeah.”

9:02 pm

“There’s so many photos here,” Will inspected the cork board on Mike’s wall. When they’d went inside Mike opened the window above his bed to let the peaceful night sounds in, and allow the stars outside to watch.

“Wait a minute,” Will touched a piece of paper tacked on the board, “I drew this.”

“I love your art, Will. How could I not hang it up?” Mike smiled up at him, so full of affection. He’s adorable when he’s flustered. Will muttered something under his breath and his face turned pink.

“Oh, right!” Mike got off his bed and joined his side. He handed over the Polaroid photo from his pocket, “You can pick the spot to put it up if you want.”

Will studied the picture, as if seeing it for the first time. He was close, close enough that Mike could see every detail of his face, see the curve of his lips that had fit so perfectly in his own.

“You’re so cute.” He pointed to Mike in the photo, then tore a piece of tape to hang the Polaroid next to a small drawing. A pencil sketch of Mike, with a caption at the bottom in Will’s handwriting: my Paladin.

“Y-you’re uh, pretty cute too,” Mike stammered. When Will finished hanging the picture he turned around and followed him to the bed, his head tipping up so their eyes met. The air suddenly felt very warm as they sat chest to chest—silent except for the crickets outside—until Will spoke softly.

“Mikey, can I ask something?” His hazel eyes never left his face.

Mike didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath.

“Anything.”

Will was leaning back on his hands, and decidedly scooted closer. “Can you..hold me please?”

His eyes widened. Will’s request was so gentle that it made Mike’s heart burn for him. The desire to have him in his arms. “Of course I will.”

Mike took his hands and wrapped them around his neck, leaning them back on the comforter, drawing him closer than they’d ever been before. Will nestled his cheek to Mike’s chest as he faced the stars out the open window, his legs eased down to rest snug by his sides.

“Is this okay?” Will asked, tilting his head up so he could nestle into Mike’s neck. His soft brown hair brushed Mike’s skin and sent goosebumps racing up his arms. He closed his eyes and rubbed Will’s back in comforting circles.

“It’s perfect,” He said.

Will yawned. “This was such a great birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“Duh, I had my first kiss.” Will murmured, his fingers under Mike’s neck started to play with his dark curls.

“Tired?” Mike asked, his hands never leaving his back.

“Only a little,” He replied with a drowsy smile against his chest.

He laughed and put a hand gingerly on Will’s face to move a strand of hair. In the minutes that followed he let Will fall asleep while he studied the stars outside, listened to the heartbeat of the boy on top of him, the drawing on the cork-board. The title scrawled beneath.

“My Cleric,” Mike whispered to the stars.

#byler #byler is canon #elmax #stranger things fanfiction #byler fanfic #byler fanfiction #elmax fanfic #fluff #first kiss au #fluff fanfic #st fanfic

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bronskiibeat · 4 years

Note

OK BUT DAMN the first one of the Angst sentences really did fucking punch me in the guts??? Oh man they're all absolutely splendid, but I'd LOVE the first one! I'mma fucken weep babe

“It always comes back to this with you, doesn’t it?”

It was gone midnight, Steve was sure he could feel the day tick over somewhere inside himself, or maybe the rustle of the grass around him felt more Saturday than Friday. Billy was beside him, he could feel that too, their arms pressed together as their gazes explored the city down below them, their feet kicking together gently as the warm summer air from the plains below rose to meet the cold mountain air dropping from above.

Steve sighed happily, grabbing Billy’s elbow gently to lay himself down on the damp grass to direct his focus to the stars, the great unknown. Hawkins felt so small but coming to the hills and looking out towards everywhere made Steve feel like he maybe had a chance at escaping their small country jail, like they had the chance of getting out.

“I love you.” He murmured thoughtlessly, dropping his eyes to see the side of Billy’s head.

“No you don’t.” Billy replied tightly, pulling his knees towards his chest and defiantly looking out towards the lights below, making no effort to even humour Steve with a glance back.

Steve reached a hand up to Billy’s taking it in his own and squeezing, hoping to force some common sense into the boy. “Yeah I do.” He said back.

Billy looked round then, a dark look crossing his features, taking his hand back from Steve pointedly.

“We aren’t anything Steve, we hang out sometimes, you know about the same monsters I do, but you don’t love me. I don’t love you.” Billy pushed himself to his feet, stepping deeper into the forest, one arm reached to grab the material of his opposite shoulder. He couldn’t do this, not with Steve, but he had to. He could not get attached any more than he was, he was already too deep, holding hands, hot make out sessions, staying the night, he was in way too deep already. And it was too dangerous to go throwing the L-word around. His dad would kill him, then he would be dead, and Max would be forced to move again, because of him.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice called, from further away than Billy remembers walking, a hint of worry tinging his voice. Billy walked back towards Steve, stopping a foot or so away, taking in the pain on his face but scrubbing over it.

“We’re going, get in the car.” Billy snapped, forcing himself to be hard.

Steve held his ground, shoulders creeping towards his ears, making himself as big as he could, he was taller than Billy. “I’m not going anywhere until you say it.” He replied, eyes gleaming with the dangerous absence of fear that worried Billy when they were good but scared him when they weren’t. He might be a sweet teen babysitter when he wanted to be, but when this dangerous Steve came out, nothing would stop him.

Billy rolled his eyes and smirked, as if laughing at Steve, putting his own attitude on. “You can’t make me say shit. I don’t love you.” He snapped nastily, alarmed by the vitriol flying out of his own mouth.

Steve flinched as if it had actually hit him before stepping right up into Billy’s space, “You’re just scared.” He accused.

Billy’s fists were ready at his sides, he’d gone through pretending not to care now and was straight to seething hot anger. “Of you?” He laughed in Steve’s face.

Steve watched Billy’s face, searching for anything that betrayed he felt something good about them, showing Steve that this wasn’t just a one way thing, that Billy could admit they were good together, but he found only disgust and anger.

“You’re scared of us. How good we are. You’re scared of committing to trying to make this work.” He grabbed the front of his hair in frustration before pushing it back. He stepped back to put an arm’s length between them, taking his gaze away from Billy in his frustration. “Jesus.” He exclaimed, ““It always comes back to this with you, doesn’t it? Just you being a little pussy. I’m sick of it!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Billy shouted, watching as Steve was caught of guard by one of his fists meeting his jaw roughly, he was caught so by surprise that it sent him flying, landing with a tree root poking roughly into his side. He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed Billy by the lapels and pushed him up against a tree, bracing an arm across Hargrove’s neck.

“What is wrong with you?” Steve whispered.

Billy scrambled to find his footing, having to lift himself onto his toes before Steve to stand up so he wasn’t strangled, oh but when Steve snapped it lit something in him. He loved to see Steve with some fight in him, it was better than the Steve who jumped at a pin drop or cried in the night. No, the angry Steve, fighting for a cause was a much better alternative to Billy, it showed him Steve cared. But that’s not the point, he didn’t want Steve to care. And that’s why he kept poking the beast.

It was the increased pressure on his neck that snapped Billy back to the reality of the situation, Steve was actually hurting him. And he knew he meant it. A fire lit in his eyes, he collected some saliva in his mouth and spat it into Steve’s face.

“Get off.” He growled. When Steve only pushed Billy harder into the tree, Billy reached his limit. With a swift unexpected motion, Billy hooked a leg behind Steve’s and pushed his body against Steve’s own weight and they both tumbled to the floor. After a few jabs and kicks to his stomach by a flailing Steve, and a harder one of his own to Steve’s face, Billy was up and free. And he was sprinting for his car. That would teach the little bitch.

“Billy!” Steve shouted through the woods as he realised what Billy was doing, picking himself up and ignoring the spinning of the trees to sprint after him.

When Steve finally got anywhere near to catching up, tears were running freely down his face, Billy was in the driver’s seat and the engine already growling to life. Billy wound down his window and flicked a finger at Steve.

“Billy please.” Steve sobbed, reaching out to grab the window, but not making it before Billy was speeding off into the night, leaving Steve in the middle of the road heaving heavy sobs from somewhere so deep he didn’t know he had it in him.

Billy was 10 minutes down the road before his own tears blurred his vision so much he couldn’t see, he was angry. So angry. Mostly that Steve had seen right through him to know he was scared of committing to actually getting together, calling a spade a spade and dating. But he was scared, so scared. He was more scared of the damage that could do him than he was of the mind flayer, and that was saying something. To hurt now seemed so much easier than to hurt later.

He let out a scream of frustration as he headbutted the steering wheel, pulling it recklessly to turn in the road and drive back the way he had come. As he drove he slipped back on a mask of indifference, wiping his tears from his eyes to try and make sure he looked like he didn’t care.

His heart screamed ‘you do care’, as he drove back to where he’d left Steve to see the boy sitting curled in on himself shaking. Fuck. He’d properly fucked this one up. He’d let fear get the best of him and ruined the only good thing he had in his sad excuse of a life. He pulled up beside Harrington and leaned over to roll the window down.

“Get in Steve.” He said sharply, but Harrington didn’t move from the side of the road.

Billy raised his voice this time, “Get in!” He ground, but it worked. Steve got himself up off the floor, shaking hands trying for the door handle twice before he made it, pulling it open and dropping into the passenger seat.

As they set off he didn’t even look at Billy, he did his seatbelt but turned his body towards the window, his arms drawn close to his chest as he looked out to the night, a pitiful image of heartbreak. Sobs were still the only things pulling air into his lungs and the tears in his nose had him sniffing like a 3rd grader who’d shit his pants. Billy rolled his eyes at the state, but forced himself to be bold, be brave, he didn’t have to be scared about this if he didn’t want to be. He could try to make it work.

He thought about the s-word, but Billy couldn’t remember the last time he’d said that, so instead he said “Please stop crying Steve”, hoping the boy would hear the unsaid ‘I’m sorry’ tagged on the end.

Steve wiped at his face, unknowingly smearing some blood from his brow over his nose, he took a moment to calm down before he spoke,

“You’re a fucking psychopath.”

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ruinousrealms · 3 years

Text

Flayer

It was half past nightfall when we crossed the Rio Nuevo into Las Verdantes. Our outfit was fifteen men strong, pushing half a thousand cattle for Erlen Baymer, one of the state's lesser cattlemen. In truth he was a hard boss, a hard man who had captained a company of border raiders during the war and never tired of bragging about his service.

A favorite story of his was the time he and his men came across a family of free black farmers in southern Kansas. Baymer had approached on horseback, riding through the fields with the self-confident swagger of a plantation overlord surveying his property. He asked the father whose plantation he had run away from, and for response the black said he had been born free.

Now, Erlen Baymer was a devout Christian, and he knew the black race were descendants of Ham, son of Noah, and that for his transgression against God, he and his descendants were evermore cursed to servitude, to hew wood and draw water and be servants unto servants. He did of course explain this position to the black, as he ordered his men to strip him naked to find the truth of his claims. No man is born into slavery but he feels the whip, and so if he were born free, his back should be free from blemish.

Indeed, the man's back was smooth, free from the lumpy scars of the lash. A novelty, many of his company had come up to gawk and ask questions. How did the negro know what to plant and when without any white man to tell him? How did he work the fields without a lash to urge his lazy, indolent soul?

At length Captain Baymer ended this game and pronounced the sentence. The man was to be hung for his crimes against the Confederate States of America, those crimes being largely related to the color of his skin and the manner of his livelihood. It was understood that, if he were truly a born freeman, then surely his father and mother were somebody’s escaped property. Thus his very existence constituted the crime of theft. The children were brought back to Tennessee and dispersed among the slave markets.

The freeman’s remarkable back, Erlen Baymer had a leathersmith tan it and stitch it into a saddle. He rode that very saddle, decked out in silver dollar conchos and a rebel flag tied round the post, when we crossed the river that night in 1868.

Now, the facts of that night - I’m going to relate them to you here, plain and simple and just as they happened, like I’m some fancy New York journalist-reporter type. I grant you some of what I’m about to say may seem unbelievable. Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. I don’t got any proof, any evidence beyond what I saw that night with my own two eyes. The way Erlen Baymer died, and the things that happened to us in his trail crew before and after… I tell you boy, it’s a curse, the things I seen with these eyes. It’s what drives a man to whiskey.

The country there was flat as flapjacks, and the only place we could find to camp out of the wind was in a dried up riverbank. There we laid out our beds, cocooning ourselves in canvas sheets and wool blankets and shivering in the chill night air. The southwestern desert is hotter than a griddle all day long, but come nightfall and it’s as cold as the north pole.

Well, it was cold that night, like I said, and the wind was howling and kicking up a whole storm of dust. Me and some of the boys, those being Joe Merwin and Caul Bretton and Micah Sanchez, we took turns digging a hole in the side of the riverbank. It wasn’t like a cave, just a dirt overhang a few feet deep, with the excavated dirt piled up to protect our side from the wind.

I wouldn’t say it was the hole we dug that saved us. It sure didn’t save poor Caul, and from what I hear Micah’s still out of his mind up at one of those New England asylums. I’d say it kept us from getting noticed long enough to save our lives, for whatever that's worth.

Now we’d been seeing the makings of a dust storm in the distance for most of the afternoon. They’re common enough out here and we didn’t make much of it beyond what we’d have to do to keep the cattle from scattering. A herd of dumb heifers can scatter to the four winds during a dust-up if you’re not careful with where you lay them down.

The cows stretched out for more than a mile down the riverbed, but they wouldn’t bed down quietly. Whips of dust kept kicking up and no sooner had they sat down than they were on their hooves again, bellowing out loud.

Erlen Baymer kept riding up and down the line cursing to high heaven, kicking the sentries when he came upon them and telling them to get off their lazy god damned bean-eating asses and put the god damned cows to god damned sleep. The only effect that had was making it impossible for any of us to get sleep - But that probably saved us.

It was so dusty at that point that when dark fell there wasn’t a moon nor a star to be seen. A man could just see the dots of cattle guards’ lanterns like the windows of distant farmsteads. Weren’t no use keeping your eyes open, the wind kept kicking the stinging dust up and there weren’t anything to see anyways. I pulled my bandana up over my nose and pushed the brim of my hat down over my eyes and tried to get some shuteye.

I might even have caught a wink of sleep. The cattle down at the far end of the line were getting riled up, bellowing and braying into the night, and that got the whole herd nervous. A nervous longhorner is a dangerous longhorner, and a whole herd of nervous longhorners is a stampede waiting to happen. Joe Merwin went out to see what was the matter and lend a hand if need be. That left just the three of us.

The screaming started soon after. I think it was Tadd Murfree, but from the sound it was hard to tell whose voice it was. There are sounds and intonations particular to men and sounds and intonations particular to animals, and only in the extremity of fear, agony or ecstasy can one make the sounds of another. I don’t think poor Tadd was in ecstasy that night.

More screams started up, and the horses neighing, and the braying and bellowing filled the night air with a mad cacophony. I wager nobody’s ever heard a sound like that before, that of half a thousand screaming and panicking cattle. The hoofbeats were like thunder, like cannonfire, like a thousand drummers pounding madly out of time.

The three of us huddled at the back of our shallow hole in the edge of the riverbank, wishing we’d dug in even deeper and almost thankful Joe Merwin wasn’t here, because he was a big man and there wouldn’t have been room to hide.

I had a small trail lantern whose flickering light we used to play cards. It took five tries to get a match lit, my hands were shaking so much. It lit up our little hole just fine; I saw Micah had his revolver out, and his knuckles were white around the oakwood grip.

“Put that thing away, Micah, do you mean to shoot something?”

“I intend to be ready,” He said, which was reasonable enough.

I crawled to the entrance of the hole. As we were digging we piled the dirt up at the entrance to serve as a wind-break while we slept. I crawled up to it like a trench’s parapet and peered over with my little lamp. It didn’t illuminate much, but in its glow I could see a rush of cattle, a torrent of bovinity running full-tilt down the length of the riverbed. A lot of the animals had raw bloody wounds, some so flayed they appeared to be covered in red patches like a hellishly perverse Holstein.

These animals were panicking for a reason, fleeing some unknown predator, but what on God’s earth it could be I had no idea. Suddenly a cow fell headlong into the side of the embankment near us, sending a shower of dirt down from the roof of our little dugout. It kept trying to get up, but couldn’t; And when it rolled over I could see one whole side of its hip had been laid open and the bloody pink bone was visible. Well, I put the poor bellowing beast out of its misery and hurled my dinner over the side of the dirt heap.

And you see, that’s when Erlen Baymer rode past us. God, if the sight don’t haunt me. I once seen a drawing of the Third Horseman, Famine, a rotting man riding atop a rotting stallion. That’s what I saw. That’s the scene I’ve got to describe to you, to make you understand why I can’t sleep at night no more.

The horse looked like it had been dead and rotting for a week. It had hardly a hair of fur left on its body, and the skin… It looked like somebody had taken a cheese grater to the poor beast. Through flapping bits of flesh I saw muscles moving like an accursed anatomical flipbook. The horse’s jaw was hanging on by a thread of tendon and it was screaming, just screaming with that stump of a tongue hanging out.

The poor girl had been beautiful, just absolutely beautiful, with a black coat that shone like oil in the sunlight. Thinking back on it now I wish I’d have drawn my pistol and put an end to the poor thing, but at the time I was too shocked to do anything but watch as it thundered past, carrying its shrieking, flailing load.

Erlen Baymer was naked as Adam in Eden, and it was plain whatever was happening to the horse was occurring to him as well. He was flailing like a man possessed, slapping at himself as if desperately beating out flames; There were no flames, just raw red meat that spurted every time he touched it. He raised his arm and I caught a glimpse of the frayed ends of muscles poking through a bicep.

Something fell with a wet thud near our little hollow, and leaning over just slightly with the lantern, I saw a withered human leg severed at the knee, as if the joint had been so weakened it simply fell off. It seemed to be writhing as if covered by a hundred thousand ravenous little insects, methodically stripping it down to the bone before my very eyes. It was wearing one of Erlen Baymer’s fancy gatorskin ropers. Once the flesh was gone, the carnivorous beasties went to work eating the leather of the boot, anything fleshy enough to be consumed, till all that remained were bones and a silver spur.

I crawled back in the hole, barely able to process what I had just seen. “Alright, boys, what in the hell do we do?” I asked, and Micah Sanchez said what we three all were thinking - Make a run for the horses.

Well, you didn’t have to tell us twice. We three all crawled up to the opening, and Micah and Caul took off at a full tilt. I stayed behind a second - I’d just glanced at the body of the cow beside our dugout. It had been picked to the bone.

Just as I scrambled to my feet, Caul fell and started screaming.

“No! God, no!” Caul frantically started beating at the lower hem of his pant-legs. We didn’t know what in the hell was happening; Micah rushed over with the lamp and pulled up his trouser leg. Micah screamed and dropped the lantern, bringing the infernal night down around us once more. Caul let out a kind of a long drawn-out moan, with notes of fear, sadness and resignation. At the time what it reminded me of, more than anything, was a deer that’s gotten itself trapped in some crevasse it can’t get out, and the more it struggles the more stuck it gets, till it’s exhausted itself and all it can do is bray and wait to die.

A gunshot lit up the darkness for a moment, and the afterimage stayed in my eyes for a long time, like looking too long into a fire. Caul’s body slumped down almost casually, but the upper part of his head sprayed across the sand. I heard Micah’s running footsteps and his heavy gasping breath, and he thudded down next to me and skittered like a rat into our little safe haven.

“Flies!” Micah’s fingertips dug into my shoulders like blades, his dirty breath blowing in my face, “It’s flies! Must be millions of them! They were eating him right up! Cleaned his ankles down to the bone, I’m telling you!”

I told him to shut up.

“That’s why he fell, there weren’t nothing holding his foot bones to his leg!”

Maybe the reader will judge me for what I did next. I hope you’ll take into account the things I’d seen, and the stress I was under at the time. Micah was raving mad, clenching me for dear life like a survivor of a shipwreck clinging to a broken mast. I’d just seen him blow a man’s brains out - Though thinking back to it, he may have been right. It would have been cruel to leave him to be eaten alive, and if Micah had tried dragging him back, he’d have brought the carnivorous flies with him. He put him out of his misery as you would an old cow. But at that time I was still in shock, and the only thought that came to mind was of Caul Bretten, whom I hardly knew, but with whom I’d shared campfires and kettles of coffee, and whose brains were steaming in the cool desert night.

Thinking only of justice, I reached for my lantern and brought it down on Micah’s head, extinguishing the light and silencing his ramblings. I didn’t know whether or not I’d killed him. He was quiet. We lay there together a long time. I must have nodded off and woken several times. At one point, I woke to see Abraham Lincoln delivering the Gettysburg Address in the corner of our cave. Again I woke, this time to see a skinless and eyeless cow wandering blind in the dim pre-dawn light. It walked past absolutely silently.

When morning came, the desert was still and not a thing moved. The sun was well up in the sky before I dared move. I was caked in dust from head to toe, cracking and falling as I stirred.

Micah’s face was red and my first thought, as the events of the night came rushing back to me, was that he too was being consumed alive by those unstoppably ravenous insects. But no; My lantern blow had split his scalp and dry blood painted his face red as an Apache warrior. He was still breathing softly, so I left him there and took a gander outside.

The dry riverbed at first seemed to be decorated with a vast elaborate network of ice sculptures, gleaming a blinding white in the sun. These were the bones of cattle and cattlemen, five hundred dead heifers stripped of skin and meat and life. A lot of them had broken and ran, and their bones shone white in the distant desert sand. Clambering up the slope, the impression one got was of an overflowing river turned to ice in the blink of an eye, as if by magic.

Here and there the bones of the sentries. I recognized Eustace Bagge from his cigarette case. The leather had been eaten away, but the copper badge bearing the name of the regiment he served in the war was still perfect.

Two or three miles down, laying near some scrub was the skeleton of a horse surrounded by silver dollar conchos. I picked one up, turned it over; It could only be Erlen Baymer’s horse and saddle. The saddle, however, was gone but for the metal pegs that held it together. The freedman’s dark skin, that nightmarish piece of leatherwork, had been completely eaten away by the swarm.

The man himself had crawled away from his dead horse and left a trail of bones. He lost a lot more than the one leg; Toe and finger bones poked from the sand like pebbles, and the larger ones, a femur, most of a hand and the arm up to the elbow. I found gold teeth, and his revolver with the tacks that had held together the holster.

A bit further on I found Erlen Baymer. I turned and went back down the riverbank.

Micah had woken up and I found him wandering dazed and confused amongst the skeletons. I spoke to him but he didn’t reply; He never said a word to me again, and from what I’ve heard those New England brain-doctors haven’t gotten him talking. There was something wrong with his eyes. I couldn’t tell you what. He just kept staring past me.

He followed me without resistance. We followed the riverbed. We must have walked ten miles the first day and ten miles the next. The whole time we were stepping around skeletons. A herd can go surprisingly far in panic; The only reason they hadn’t gotten farther was, well, they were being eaten alive at the time.

The sun was our enemy. We had our canteens; I kept pouring little slips down Micah’s mouth, worried he’d choke but even more worried he’d die of thirst. At some point the brim started falling off my hat and letting sunlight hit my forehead, searing the skin red and raw.

Round noon of the third day, we came to an old covered bridge where we took shelter from the sun for a while, then started out along the road. After two and a half days walking, we were near dead. I had to pull Micah along, but he’d only move at a snail’s pace. I was terrified that he’d eventually fall down and just refuse to get back up; It’d be the end for him, and my own couldn’t be far away.

And then, as if by magic, a carriage appeared. One moment we were walking and then, the sound and smell of horses and a voice crying out in Spanish, “Quitate de en medio, idiotas!”

Well, I spoke a peck of Spanish, just enough for him to understand that we were in trouble, and the kind old man stepped down and helped me load Micah into the back, building a little bed for him out of bags of corn, and setting up a tarp to keep him out of the sun.

We rode to a hacienda named Soledad El Aquelarre, and the women bathed us and fed us and fussed over poor Micah. There was a nunnery not far away and the old man sent for the holy sisters to tend his needs, but beyond keeping him fed and cleaning up after him, there was little they could do.

I never told him a word of what happened. My lack of Spanish helped in that respect; Whenever he asked, I could pretend not to understand. He was kind, too kind for the likes of us, and I do feel guilty about lying to him, but I didn’t think he could comprehend what we’d been through, let alone understand. I barely could, and as I lay there day after day I got to wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been some sort of insane dream. I could see the workers in the fields through my window and beyond them the bone white desert stretched out gleaming, a thousand miles of dust to the gulf of Mexico.

One night, however, I was visited in my room by one of the sisters. She spoke good English and introduced herself as Sister Clarita. She was one of the sisters tending to Micah. She didn’t ask me what had happened, because she already knew. There were stories in this region going back centuries, of caravans going missing in the desert night, and by light of day all that are found are the polished white bones. The monastery library held many such reports going back to the days of the conquistadors. Sister Clarita thought it must have been going on a lot longer; The native tribes shunned this entire area, considering it an unclean place to visit and avoiding the entire hundred-mile stretch of desert as we Americans avoid the cesspit or the slums.

There were other books, too. Books on biology and entomology, and the evolution and adaptation of species. Sister Clarita suggested that a species of small insect, like the tiny mites and fleas that live among grains of sand and are so small as to be almost indistinguishable, may have become adapted, over many centuries, to the consumption of flesh. That such a diet would cause changes in the bodies of the insects making them more adept at catching their prey; Perhaps their mandibles had developed a razor’s edge for slicing off bits of flesh. Or maybe they coated their victims in digestive acid and slurped up the liquified flesh. Sister Clarita knew of several insects that consumed their prey in just such a manner, though none that she knew had ever gone after so large a prey as a man or a cow.

“But Sister, if these really are man-eating insects, why do they stay out here in the desert? Every animal migrates toward its food source; These things could strip a town clean of flesh overnight! Why aren’t they swarming through the cities, just… Everywhere?”

“Perhaps they just like the weather here,” Sister Clarita said and kissed her rosary.

After a week of recovery, I felt well enough to travel. I collected Micah from the sisters, who protested, but I thought if anyone could help him it would be at one of those new asylums up in New England. The old man took us as far as the train station in Las Friolero del Resol, and there he bade us goodbye.

Two days later we were back in Texas. First thing I went to the barber to shave off the wild beard I’d grown. Then I walked into the nearest sheriff’s office to report the fate of the Erlen Baymer Cattle Drive.

Well, they didn’t believe a word of what I told them and locked me and Micah up for murder. To hear them tell it, the two of us got up one night and slit everybody’s throats. Didn’t matter to them what I said, nor the state Micah was in; They left us to rot six weeks before the circuit judge came ‘round to pronounce the sentence.

He had expected an open-and-shut murder case; When we were brought to stand before him, he saw my sleepless eyes and the empty shell of a man that was Micah. He listened to my story silently, nodding occasionally for me to continue, and when it was done he pronounced the sentence.

“I, Judge Howard Lorbbock of the Great State of Texas, do hereby declare these two men to be mentally insane. No doubt they were driven mad by the ordeal they suffered, of crossing the desert after their cattle drive was destroyed by Apaches.”

There weren’t any damn Apaches in that part of Mexico, but I kept my mouth shut. The sheriff was making enough noise as it was, imploring the judge that “What the people of this town need to see is a good old fashioned hanging!”

Well, we were sent to Houston for treatment. Micah was considered such a specialty case that he was sent up north to New England, to the asylum in some town called Arkham.

I stayed behind at the Houston madhouse. The medicine they gave me made me sleep, but nothing can stop the dreams. When I close my eyes, all I can see are Erlen Baymer’s lidless eyeballs rolling round and round in his red skull-face.

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theonewiththefanfics · 5 years

Text

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 3/?)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking, I don’t think there’s anything else :)

Word count: 3998

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

It truly was high school all over again. As Y/N and Billy walked around the newly rebuilt mall, he kept bickering with Max about her going to a party. They had decided to meet up with everyone for a bowling game instead of sitting with Susan and Neil in tense silence by the dinner table, but the two were going at it like they would at home. “You were so much worse at my age than I am,” Max exclaimed throwing her hands in the air. “Besides, I wouldn’t get drunk or even drink, I have graduation the next day.” “You could be drinking water and still get roofied,” Billy’s hand slid into the back pocket of Y/N’s jeans. “Trust me, guys your age only think with their dicks.” “Like you did?” Max’s ginger eyebrow rose, a smirk on her face as her brother only glared at her. “Watch it, Maxine.” “Call me Maxine again, and I’ll drive your Camaro into the lake.” Billy pointed a stern finger at her as they entered the bowling alley. “Touch my car and you’re dead.” “How're things between you and Lucas?” Y/N butted in, tired of their arguing. They really were siblings, and it didn’t matter if they were related or not, they definitely acted like it. “We broke up.” Billy snorted. “Which time is it now? Twelfth?” “Fourteenth.” “What happened?” Y/N asked lacing up the shoes the guy behind the desk had given her, but where she thought it’d be just stupid teenager drama, Max’s face completely fell. “He’s going to NYU… got his acceptance letter during Spring Break.” “Max, that’s amazing,” Billy said but his sister’s mood only soured. “Yeah, well for him, not for us… he’s going to NYU I’m going to UCLA, but the thing is we’d talked about applying to the same ones, and he did it behind my back!” she exclaimed. “He didn’t even tell me he was thinking about it! That’s what pisses me off the most.”

Billy grunted standing up after having put on his own shoes. “Do you want me to beat him up?” “What? No!” Max rolled her eyes. “I can do that myself. I just… this isn’t the kinda shit we usually break up over.” Y/N gave her a sympathetic look. Before she’d ever met Billy, she had been thinking about going to NYU as well. And if she was being honest, for the first few months they lived in California, she had regretted not going to the Big Apple. Things had obviously worked out just fine, but it was a little tear in her heart to know her plans hadn’t really gone the way she thought they would. Then again, Y/N didn’t think she’d have to fight the Mind Flayer either, so there was that. “And what kind of things did you usually break up because?” Y/N asked as she and Max went to pick out their balls, Billy quickly ordering some drinks and food for them and the rest of the Party as they’d join later. “I dunno,” the redhead sighed and looked up at the board showing her name. “Like in eighth grade, I dumped him ‘cause he stepped on the back of my shoes for a week. He thought he was being funny, so I told him to back off. Another time was ‘cause he’d been copying my homework, but when I wanted to do the same he wouldn’t give. That’s the kind of stuff we argue abou-“ her train of thought was interrupted as everyone else loudly entered the alley, Nancy's hand in Johnathan's as El, Dustin, Mike, Will, Alex and Lucas all barreling in. Max's blue eyes locked onto the latter’s brown ones for a moment, before he broke the gaze and took one of the bowling balls. The silent treatment was in full force. “Did he say he was going?” Y/N asked, after having scored a spare and sitting down onto one of the seats. El was instantly by their side, wanting in on the girl conversation. “No,” Max groaned looking at Lucas who was holding the ball by his face, trying to figure out the trajectory that would give him a strike. “But that’s not the point. The point is, he didn’t even tell me he was applying… like I think we would be able to manage a long-distance thing… but it’s just… like he didn’t trust me, like he was afraid I would discourage him from doing it.” “Would you, have?” Y/N hesitated to ask but knew she should. “If he had told you he wanted to go to NYU, knowing you’re set on UCLA, do you think you’d try and talk him out of it?” “I just…” Max dragged a hand through her hair, tears she never let fall glistening on her lower lash line. “I love him. I don’t wanna lose him. But he doesn’t trust me.” By that point, Nancy, Johnathan, Steve with the addition of Robin who’d been busy earlier that morning had joined in on the game, and were all preoccupied with beating the kids' scores. “Y/N!” Billy shouted, “You’re up!” “Look, Max, I think you two need to sit down and talk about it,” the girl stood up and went to grab her bowling ball. “Maybe he was scared of losing you too… maybe that's why he didn't say anything...” Her Y/E/C eyes zeroed in on the pins, arm pulled back and with a little skip forward, she let the ball go, knocking down the ten white pieces of wood. STRIKE! The board announced with a little animation on it. Max just huffed at the implication it had.

***

Dustin ended up being the one who scored most. “It’s the missing bones, I’m telling you!” he laughed as everyone gave back their bowling shoes and made their way out of the mall, the parking lot practically deserted save for a few cars. Y/N’s hand was in Billy’s, and he was swinging them back and forth. “How does that make any sense?” she asked looking up at the teenager. All of them had grown so much, it was practically unfair. “It’s just the way it is.” “So, you’re like Gumby or some shit?” “Uh,” Steve butted in, “I’m pretty sure it’s gumbo. We had this conversation years ago.” Y/N raised her eyebrow and looked at Robin who just rolled her eyes. “You do know gumbo is a dish, right?” “Yeah, but does it have any bones in it?” he remarked. Nobody had anything to answer, so he just gave them a smug smirk, opening his car’s door. “Thought so.” Dustin, Robin and Lucas piled inside Harrington’s vehicle while Nancy and Johnathan would bring Will, Alex and Mike home, Max driving with Y/N and Billy. “We were actually thinking about going to Tina’s after we drop these ones off,” Nancy said, leaning on her door. “So, if you wanna join, we’ll be there in like half an hour.” Y/N sighed, nodding her head and giving a small smile before ducking inside the safety of Billy’s car. They drove to Max’s in silence, the rock music that usually blasted on high had been turned down low, so Neil wouldn’t hear them approaching. “Think about what I said. Please,” Y/N said to Max with a sympathetic smile as the teenager hopped out from the backseat. She responded with a small nod and then closed the door. The two watched Max skip up the porch and unlock the door. Only when her bedroom’s light was off and there was no other movement in the house did they pull away and started to drive down the road. “Do you think we could go to that party?” Billy’s question caught Y/N completely off guard. It was already eleven thirty so without a doubt it would be in full swing. “You didn’t want to earlier today, what changed?” He just shrugged and looked back at the road, streetlights guiding their way. “Just thought it might be fun… ever since Clara, we haven’t had much time to ourselves. I absolutely love her and would give up everything for her happiness, but I just thought… I dunno… it might be fun…” Y/N bit her lip as she watched Billy chew on the inside of his cheek. She didn’t really want to go. The thought of seeing Carol, Tommy and the other delinquents was not an appealing one, and, without a doubt, the woman would try to get a rise out of her, seeing as Y/N had helped the bad boy of Hawkins settle down, but he looked so nervous when he’d asked it, she just let out a sigh and nodded. “Why not… besides, Nance, Steve and the rest are going as well, so… sure.” But Y/N regretted that decision almost immediately. She didn’t mind parties, just the people that went to them, and when the first people she saw was Vicky Mulligan and Tina Wakefield sucking on some strangers’ necks she immediately decided to scour the place for her friends, if they had to stay. “Look who decided to show up,” Tommy slurred, already intoxicated with his shirt buttoned open and sweat or beer trickling down his chest. “Ladies and gentlemen, the King of Hawkins has finally graced us with his presence. Though I have to warn you – he’s quite boring now. Doesn’t drink or even fucking smoke.” Laughter and booing erupted throughout the house, and Y/N saw Carol snicker, as she had joined them by the driveway, a cigarette hanging between her fingers. Billy didn’t even bristle as he pulled off his leather jacket and slammed his car door closed. “What’s the record?” “What?” Tommy laughed dragging a puff before exhaling it through his nose. “I asked what’s the record?” Tommy’s lackeys all scoffed and crossed their arms before he answered. “You’re still in the lead.” Y/N saw him smirk and threw her a wink. “Them I’m about to beat myself.” She sighed, knowing what was going to happen. As the boys all gathered around Billy, grabbing him by the legs and waist to hoist him up, Tommy passing the hose to let the beer flow, she entered the house, harshly slamming her shoulder into Carol’s, Vicky and Tina sneering at her. Pure Fuel was her mission, and that’s where she found her saviour in the form of Robin. “You don’t look like you wanna be here,” she stated handing Y/N a red cup filled with the alcohol mixture. They’d shared English with Mrs Nelson during their last year of school, but other than a couple of group projects the two girls hadn’t interacted much, until the summer that changed it all. Robin was still someone Y/N looked forward to seeing and hearing from, but she also knew that their friendship was nothing compared to hers and Steve’s. In a lot of ways, Robin had replaced Y/N as Steve’s best friend, but she wasn’t bitter about it. In fact, she was truly happy there was someone he could be completely himself without any other intention than being a friend. “That’s ‘cause I really don’t,” Y/N snorted and gulped down half her drink. “I have no joy sharing air with those three harpies.” Robin nodded and sipped on her gin and tonic. “It’s truly amazing how they haven’t changed a bit. It’s like they’re still stuck in high school.” “You’re telling me,” Y/N shook her head. “Carol looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her sockets when I said Billy’s my husband.” “I would pay to see that,” Robin pointed with a finger at her and chuckled in her raspy tone. “I mean, imagine how she’d look if you said you have a daughter.” They snickered for a moment and shook their heads, Robin looking to the garden where the popular ex-kids-now-adults had gathered. “You find a girl in London?” the question took her attention away and though unexpected it wasn’t unwelcome. She trusted Y/N enough to come out and had never heard a harsh word from her. The blush that crept up Robin’s neck would’ve been enough of an answer, but she did give a soft ‘yeah’ as well. “Tell me everything,” Y/N leaned forward, genuinely interested in what this person was like, and if she made Robin happy. But she didn’t get a chance to open her mouth when the deafening cheering of boys bombarded their senses. “The Keg King still lives!” Tommy hollered over the heads of everyone, and Billy let out a yell of victory. He couldn’t help himself as he slipped back into that persona that didn’t care about anything or anyone. Obviously, things had changed, and where he used to slink away to find his taste of the week as a teenager, Billy was very much so devoted to his family, but it was nice to let loose for a bit. If only for a moment to become the Keg King. His wife stood by the door aisle looking at the aftermath of the whole ordeal, but contrary to where her husband had drunk beer for a minute and a half without stopping for a breath basically, she had been nursing the same cup of Pure Fuel the entire time. In Y/N’s mind, she thought they’d come here, mingle for a bit, maybe talk with a few other of their fellow ex-classmates and go home to rest, but given how it was moving closer to two AM already, she knew that wouldn’t happen. “Babe, did you hear that?” Billy’s arms were wide open in pride as he looked at her. “I’m still Hawkins’ reigning King.” Y/N pulled her mouth in a tight-lipped smile and crossed her arms humming in agreement. “Imma get you some water.” Tommy H scoffed. “Water; if you’re getting him anything get him Pure Fuel. It’s a party, not a sermon.” “C’ mon,” Billy sighed moving to where she stood, hands grasping at her waist and pressing his forehead against Y/N’s. “Don’t be like that.” “Like what?” “A mood killer. This is just one night.” Y/N scoffed pulling back. “What happened to ‘I don’t drink or smoke’? You were pretty happy to put both Carol and Tommy down when we first met them today, but the second you have a bigger audience it’s back to the old ways?” “You know that’s not true,” the words were more like a growl than anything else. “I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.” “You wanted to come here,” she pointed out. “Not me. I’m just tagging along.” “Well maybe then you should go home.” That was not the answer Y/N expected to hear from Billy. With wide eyes, she pulled back from his embrace and stepped out of arms reach. “Maybe I will.” With that, she turned around and weaved between the drunk people, searching for someplace quiet, but given how every single space in Tina’s house was packed, the only unoccupied place would be the woods at the back. Y/N ran a hand down her face, as she stepped onto the forest floor, the noise of gravel crunching under her feet being replaced by moss, making her steps completely soundless. “And what are you doing here alone?” a voice from the shadows startled her, but it turned out to be just Steve as it seemed he had run away from Tina’s as well. “Reliving the first party of senior year, I guess,” Y/N snorted giving the house a quick look. “Billy’s the Keg King again, and I’m hiding in the woods. Seems about right.” “Shouldn’t’ the Queen be next to her husband?” “The Queen,” Y/N sighed, “is apparently killing the mood… I didn’t think things would go back to the way they were so quickly…” she bit her lip and exhaled another breath. “Like, I know we’re not that much older, and it doesn’t matter if we’re twenty-two or eighteen, but I thought, you know… we have a kid,” she chuckled. “We’re married… maybe I was just naïve thinking that he’d be the same as he’s in San Diego.” Steve sighed, a pained look on his face. “Come on, don’t say that,” he went to stand next to Y/N. “The guy’s crazy about you. And I never thought I’d say that about Billy Hargrove. You know, the guy who went around town screwing every girl that would open her legs for him. He hasn’t so much as looked at someone else. He loves you, it’s just those assholes goading him.” “I know,” Y/N sighed and leaned against the tree trunk. “and I get it, I guess. It’s easier for him to shut everyone out and become someone he isn’t here. At first, it was kind of sweet, that only I’d got to see who was underneath all that brashness and temperament, but now… it just feels like a weight dragging everything down. It’s like all those soft moments we’ve spent together and with Clara mean nothing as long as he gets to beat the record again.” Steve could understand where she was coming from. They’d been best friends since forever, and after having been through unimaginable shit, he was genuinely happy Y/N had found someone to call her home. And having seen how affectionate Billy could be when they were at the bowling alley, his heart hurt for her. “Hey,” he tried to distract her, “the junkyard wasn’t that far now was it?” Y/N shrugged. “A twenty-minute walk. Wanna go?” And it really was like high school all over again. With the booming sounds of the party remaining in the distance, Y/N walked side by side with Steve, catching up on the things they had missed over the phone or just reminiscing about how things were, and how they’d changed. “Been drugged by any more Russians?” Y/N quipped as the sound of cicadas chirping trailed behind them. “No,” Steve replied through a snort. “But anytime I walked into an ice cream shop, I was a bit weary.” Their conversations drifted from one topic to another without a single pause. Y/N felt like she was seventeen once more, and that feeling only intensified when the smashed carcasses of old cars came in view, both of them dashing to the old bus they loved to sit on top of. Together they set off into a sprint, loud giggles taking over the quiet of the junkyard, as Y/N leapt onto the hood of an old crushed BMW, but Steve slammed open the door of the bus and decided to use the hatch on its roof. “I,” she breathed out heavily, “win.” “You,” Steve mocked her out-of-breath voice, “cheated.” “I did not!” “Yes, you did!” “Really,” Y/N lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “How so?” “You had a head start!” “No, I’m just not slow like you.” At that, he showed her shoulder and she almost tumbled to the ground, had it not been for Steve’s fingers grabbing onto her jean jacket. Billy’s jean jacket that she had stolen to wear. She sighed and leaned her head against Steve's shoulder, nose hidden in the lapel of the piece of clothing, her husband’s smell enveloping her. “I just really hate them. Hate how they were able to get under his skin when he didn’t even let Neil do it.” Steve’s arm wrapped around her shoulder as he rested his head against Y/N’s. “Well, Billy was right about one thing – Hawkins’ a shithole.” For a moment they were silent, eyes trained towards where the lights of the mall glittered brighter than the stars in the sky when something moved between the cars. Something that was coming towards them. “Steve,” Y/N’s voice trembled as she extended a shaking finger. “What’s that?”

***

Robin’s heart was pumping as if she had just run sixty miles, Nancy and Johnathan scattered throughout the house as they tried to locate Billy. He had disappeared after his little argument with Y/N either gone to a quiet place to gather himself or Tommy had dragged him somewhere and shoved a bottle of tequila in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. She finally found him when the Californian exited the bathroom, a desperate girl trying to flirt with him, not noticing how his eyes didn’t even lift to look at her. But he did see a panting Robin, that grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him down the stairs. “I saw something in the woods.” Billy was beyond confused. “What?” “Steve and Y/N,” she took in a breath and quickly exhaled, “they were in the woods, talking and then I saw something." His heart dropped to his feet at the words, but he masked it quickly with a sneer, trying to push through the crowd and into the kitchen, the anger that had returned to his blood since arriving in Hawkins, slowly starting to boil. “Yeah, well, I hope those two have a grand fucking time.” “No, you don’t get it,” Robin shook Billy’s shoulder a bit and yanked him hard enough that the man turned around. “I said I saw something.” That’s when pure fear took over his body. In all honesty, he would rather Y/N cheat on him, to say she didn’t love him, tell him she was running off with Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington than what Robin’s words meant. Immediately, he was running or at least attempting to get out of the house and to his car. He could already see Nancy and Johnathan waiting by the door aisle. He was almost out of the woods, when a slurring Tina stopped him in the middle of his tracks, trailing a hand along his exposed chest. “Billy, where are you going?” she tried to purr, but he just pushed her away in disgust. “My wife’s missing, so I’m going to find her.” “You don’t need her.” The woman was relentless, especially when there was liquid courage in her system. “She’s boring, a snooze fest. Bet she doesn’t even put out.” Her whiskey stained breath slammed into Billy’s nose, and he physically recoiled. “You need a woman that knows how to take care of a man’s needs,” Tina continued on. Billy was fuming by that point. Every wasted second was a possibility of Y/N getting hurt. Sure, she had Steve with her, but as far as he knew, neither had any kind of weapon to protect themselves, and if Robin was sure that a monster from the Upside Down was lurking in the forest and maybe even tracking them, there wasn’t much they could use. “Someone like you?” he asked. Tina’s smirk widened, and she was emboldened, sliding her palm down his chest, abs and towards his belt buckle. “Someone exactly like me.” “Listen here sweetheart,” Billy started grabbing ahold of Tina’s hand. “If in these two minutes that I’ve wasted on talking to you or rather listening to you put down my wife something happened to her, it’ll be your head I’ll be coming after. If even a single strand of hair I find amiss on her head, I’ll scalp you with my bare hands.” “She’s probably off somewhere screwing Harrington!” Carol hollered after Billy as he pushed Tina from where she’d been grasping at the collar of his shirt. “Go choke!” was the only thing he dignified them with. Elbowing away Tommy’s hand that wanted Billy to turn around and prod him to do another stand, he rushed out of the house and to his Camaro Robin following suit while, Nancy and Johnathan piled into her car, but not before she took out a shotgun from her trunk and passed it over to Billy, a box of bullets with it. “The junction before the junkyard. We’ll try and get there from the other side.” No more words needed to be spoken as the engine roared to life, Billy speeding away from the party. “Don’t do anything stupid, baby,” he muttered to himself hoping that somehow Y/N would hear his words. “I’m coming. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: @genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @cracked-sidewalk98 @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01

A/N: If you wanna be tagged, please drop me a message :)

P.S. I went to see Spider-Man: Far From Home and it was such an adorkable movie, like omg I loved IT!!!!!!!!

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