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asherisawkward · 7 months

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How do you think a "hero and villian are forced to work together" type of episode would have worked between Luz and Belos?

(Note, this is a rough outline of what season three could look like but without any focus on subplots.)

The intro would play the way it does in Thanks to Them, and we’d get some scenes of the Hexsquad adjusting to Earth while Luz is in school. She’d still be suffering from guilt, but it would be related to abandoning Camila without thinking about how that could affect her, especially with Manny’s death. Additionally, there would be a scene where Vee and Luz talk about what happened, and Vee apologizes for taking over Luz’s life and throwing out her things without permission. I think it’d be a good thing to give Vee some more time to develop and acknowledge her own mistake.

At school, we could have a few scenes of Luz trying to fit in and being shunned as evidence for why she was so eager to leave behind the Human Realm. We’d still have the scene of Flapjack finding the Codex and the Hexsquad deciding they’d go searching for the Titan’s Blood as a surprise for Luz. It would also be around this time that we see Gus and Hunter being Cosmic Frontier nerds. They’d get the scene of the group finding giraffes and getting terrified like in canon, and they meet Masha, who gives them a hand with the code.

It would then switch to follow Philip wandering about the Human Realm, possessing or feeding on animal corpses in an attempt to regain his strength. This would be an incredibly grim set of scenes focused on the difficulty Philip has with physical survival and regaining his strength after what the Collector did. A lot of his screentime would focus on the after effects Philip experiences after the Day of Unity. He’s falling apart and having a hard time becoming stable without a form to take over, and he would frequently be interrupted and distressed by various memories that Gus went through in King’s Tide coming back and tormenting him.

He’d start working up in forms until he got to a deer and get hit by a car just like in canon, and goop would get sprayed and spilled over the road, attracting Luz’ and Camila’s attention as they’re driving home with groceries. This is the point that Philip becomes a variable to the Hexsquad, and they start trying to plan around him.

Then, as the episode continued, each party would individually realize that the Collector is a threat to their respective goals (Luz’s goal being to save the Isles and Philip’s being to destroy them) along with the unwanted necessity of needing the other person in order to be able to stop the Collector from going on a rampage. Philip could help them make another portal if they gave him the right incentive with it. The group is rightfully conflicted on it, and Hunter is the most outspoken one on the Anti-Philip side of things for obvious reasons.

Philip would probably be more active about seeking Luz out because he’s more aware of her and the Hexsquad, while the latters are still putting pieces together about where he is and grappling with the fact that he may be an asset. Eventually, he’d move to digging up corpses and possessing them to get back his human form without actually hurting any humans before he forced himself into his human form briefly to get his clothes back and starts hauling himself to the Noceda household.

The scene of Philip knocking on the door of the house that the Hexsquad’s adopted would be very tense because, a) everyone is already there, so who’s knocking on the door, and, b) Philip is possessing a literal corpse to be here. Along with, you know, he’s Philip.

He wouldn’t ever say “I need your help to take down the Collector,” because he would not want to confess that he needs help and cannot take the Collector on alone. Instead, he makes it about how the Hexsquad needs him to make a stable portal and his magical expertise will be invaluable to them. Hell, he’ll even be generous and swear to not attack them while they’re teamed up. After a lot of debate and bargaining, they come to an agreement and start working together.

The rest of the episode is about how the various characters come to terms with having to be around the monster that tried to murder them all, and how Philip attempts to balance his recovery and creating the portal. On Halloween, they go out and have a bit of fun before they go to leave, and they still see the Tale of the Brothers Wittebane. The episode would end with the characters going through the portal, except for Vee, who stays behind how she does in canon. She’s been incredibly brave in facing and dealing with her abuser/captor, and I like that she’s not expected or forced to go along after that.

In For the Future, it would focus on King and the Collector for about half of it (with a little bit of Eda and Lilith) and the expanded Hexsquad for half of it.

On King’s side of things, he is dealing with a very sadistic and manipulative Collector (Shadow Collector, my beloved /j) They’re still playing Owl House with the Collector as Luz, but they’ve amped the stakes up. Instead of puppetifying everyone immediately, the Collector is forcing everyone to play their parts through intimidation, and if they mess up, then they start getting turned into a puppet slowly. It travels kind of like possession but slower, and the victims lose control and feeling of their limbs as the spell progresses. I’m thinking a horrifying situation that kind of goes, “my body is not my own.” Once someone is completely transformed, the spell is irreversible like petrification and basically becomes a corpse that is forced to move around and talk by the Collector. Eda, Hooty, and Lilith are set up by King as vital characters and are given a bit more leeway because King said they’re necessary for the game. Still, the Collector is becoming more violent as he starts to get bored with the game.

With the Hexsquad, Gus is quickly becoming one of the more important characters in the episode. The earring the at he took from Graye had a slice of Galderstone, which, contrary to popular belief, amplifies the complexity and scale of illusions that can be done. Using this knowledge, Gus makes and maintains an illusion as the Hexsquad walks that makes it seem as if there is nobody there without needing to hold breath the way they would with a glyph. He does a double-layered spell: one layer that has slight changes to the area around them and a couple animals to explain the noise they’re making, and another that just makes the group invisible to other eyes.

Willow and Amity will start talking properly about the way that things have changed over the past couple years and how just because Odalia and Alador made them stop being friends did not excuse the bullying that she did for years. Amity could properly acknowledge this and work to be better.

Camila is being a momma bear while also trying to adapt the way Luz did, and Luz finally gets to explain to her mother how she came to the Isles and how she fell in love with the place as a whole. It’s a really good bonding moment for the pair, and I think it could really help flesh out the way they interact as a family as a whole.

They’d stop at the Owl House and take a break, and Gus would have a moment where he talks to and connects with Philip. He explains his fascination and interest with humans and how he spent his childhood being enamored with them. He thought they were strange, amazing creatures that were good as a whole. Now, with what he’s seen in Philip’s memories, he feels disillusioned and hurt, like he’s lost a part of something integral to himself. How it that humans can be so horrible to people?

It would be really interesting to watch Philip and Gus to mourn their childhoods and the loss of that bright-eyed innocence about the world. After all, even if Philip believes humanity is good, he knows that there are bad people, and it can’t have been easy to learn that.

It would be a moment of genuine connection between the pair, and Philip could point out that there are good and bad people in every group, and that for every murderer or thief, there are doctors and authors and other amazing people who change the world. After listening to that, Gus pauses for a moment and says, “Have you ever considered that it’s the same way for witches, too?”

The pair stop talking after that.

Finally, finally, Luz and Philip get to talking about the way things are. Luz shares some of her concerns about being like him and how she’s a bad person for helping him meet the Collector. Philip roughly says, “You aren’t like me; you’re like Caleb.” Then we get a brief flashback scene as Philip explains a little bit of his childhood—being orphaned and dependent on Caleb with no one else in his life, the way he was all but destroyed when he saw his brother leave with Evelyn, how certain he was that Caleb wouldn’t abandon him, and everything else about his story.

At that point, Luz starts feeling awful about what happened with her mother and how scared she must have been when she found out that Luz wasn’t at summer camp and instead another realm. She wonders how she could be so thoughtless and what other ways she could have hurt the people she cares about. Philip points out that Camila is still alive and that there’s time to make things right between them. Hearing that, Luz runs off to go talk to her mother.

Camila is a bit surprised that her daughter comes to her suddenly and says that she needs to talk with her. They go into another room, and Luz pours her heart out about everything that happens and apologizes for leaving the way she did and not talking about things with her. Camila is gentle and comforts her, saying that she had been incredibly scared, but she’s proud of how much Luz has grown from her time in the Boiling Isles and how she could never ask her to leave someplace so dear to her forever.

Luz’s palisman wish in this is, “All I wanted is to feel like I belong somewhere,” because it still fits into her theme of being a weirdo and feeling misunderstood without putting pressure on her friends and family to bend over backwards to understand her even when they disagree. Stringbean is still her Palisman, but she’s just a snake as opposed to a snake-shifter.

Meanwhile, the Collector is becoming more and more suspicious of their “friend.” King goes away too often, and he’s always so secretive around Lilith and Eda! What if he’s planning something? What if he’s going to betray them the way Philip did? He begins preparing himself for King’s betrayal and spends some spies to follow the Titan. Eda, Lilith, Hooty, and King wander about in some of their limited time away from the Collector while they’re distracted or sleeping.

Eventually, the two groups meet up, and there’s a lot of joy for everyone as they reunite with each other, explain what’s been happening in the different realms, and introduce Eda, Lilith, and King to Camila. The Hexsquad is ecstatic to know that their loved ones are okay, as King confirms that he hasn’t seen any of them get puppetified (and King’s almost always there when that happens). However, once the shock has worn off, they realize that Philip is there, and they become incredibly suspicious about him. The situation is quickly explained, and the Eternal Oath between the two groups soothes them for now, but Lilith makes sure to tell Philip that she’s watching him for any suspicious business. The episode ends on the Collector, revealing that he’s seen the whole interaction.

In Watching and Dreaming, it would start shortly after Eda, Lilith, and Hooty were reunited with Luz and the rest of the Hexsquad. Philip is awkward and generally standing off to the side due to his mistreatment of both witches in the past and the growing realization that with the fight approaching, they will have to fight and either die or suffer, and Philip will have to turn against them in the end.

Eventually, the Collector would find the group and try to take King hostage for betraying him and working for his downfall. That would trigger an all out fight where everyone would scramble to get King free. Hunter would succeed by grabbing King and teleporting away after Amity restrains the Collector for a short period of time.

I’m not the best at describing fight scenes, but it would be a mess. Willow would be shooting vines at the Collector and making sure that everyone had the potential to get in range and get away if needed. Gus would be distracting, diverting, and attempting to visually overwhelm the Collector with his illusions. He might even try the bad memory thing again.

Amity would attack utilizing abomination matter and attempt to restrain the Collector’s movement. Hunter would have Flapjack and go about his usual teleportation-and-retreat based fighting style. King would use his Titan powers and Lilith would use potions (and Hooty) to destroy and hold back the puppet army. Eda and Camila would be doing their best to give the Collector hell while protecting their kids, and they’d be absolutely badass at it.

Philip would be fighting like the devil, and it’d be another opportunity to get a true sense and scale of his power. I’m thinking that because he’s the most durable and survived being liquified by the Collector, he jumps in to take most of the damage for the Hexsquad. Finally, Luz would be absolutely amazing with her glyph combinations now that Philip has had some time to teach her some of his combinations.

The fight would eventually end when Philip partially petrifies the Collector before Luz slams them with a glyph combination that nice again traps them in their prison. Then, the Hexsquad absolutely demolishes the tablet that’s used for the imprisoned and the real world to communicate.

There’s celebrations, laughing, crying, and hugging. People are hugging, and Amity and Luz kiss after the latter hugs her mother. Everyone’s celebrating, except for Philip. He’s standing off to the side and kind of staring at the scene before him. He’s seeing proof, actual proof, of the goodness of the witches and demons that he thought were evil. His entire life has been dedicated to a lie, and everything that he used to see as good is monstrous.

Philip is badly wounded, but he interrupts the festivities to attack the witches around him. Luz uses Stringbean to deflect the attack and begins fighting him back. With the wounds he has and the knowledge he’s been wrong his whole life, Philip is not fighting nearly as well as he does in his prime, making it easier for Luz to fight against him on more equal ground.

Luz asks him to stop, saying that there has to be some other way to resolve the situation. Now that she understands the situation and what caused it, maybe find another way. (Basically, she tries to pull a Steven Universe)

“How else could this have ended with how far I’ve gone?” Philip asks, continuing to fight. They continue to fight, the man getting more and more injured as they go on. Eventually, he’s too wounded to go on, and his body gives out beneath him. He passes on soon after. Luz is there when he dies, but she is not responsible for it. I want it to feel kind of somber, because he’s a pretty tragic character as a whole.

————

That’s my idea for Season Three if Philip and Luz had to team up. A lot of Thanks to Them comes from @chiconisroc’s “Was Not The Hero,” because it’s got the same sort of premise.

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averagestudent03 · 1 year

Text

I Know The End: S4, Chapter Three, The Waiting Game

(Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader, stranger things rewrite)

Word Count: 7.1k

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(A/N: Welcome to Chapter Three! As always, reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated as they are ridiculously motivational, and I enjoy reading them all! They seriously help when I write new chapters - it's always nice to see that people are invested in my work! All stranger things content and characters belong to the Duffer brothers, and I hope you enjoy Chapter Three!)

Series warnings: Gruesome imagery- Sharp objects, threats, snapped bones, expletives, jealousy, fear of abandonment, era-relevant homophobia, mentions of blood, slight angst? Mentions of Abuse, one use of Y/N, series-level gore, mentions of nausea, etc. Each set of warnings is individual to the chapter and specified at the beginning.

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22/03/1986

"Eddie, we just want to talk."

Dustin Henderson looked down at the shaking boy, and the unfamiliarity in Eddie Munson's eyes broke his heart. The boy was trembling, heart pounding as he thought about the implication of the word. Fingers tapping incessantly against his thigh, breaths coming out in fast, shaky exhales. He shook his head; he refused to let Dustin Henderson see him like this. He was too young for that.

The word rang out and echoed around his brain, wincing as it brought unwanted memories to light. The scraping of a ring against his skin, red faced with a palm pressed hard against his cheek.

Talk.

It often didn't mean talking, as the boy had found, instead trading the syllables in for a much better word. Something more suitable: interrogation.

That, he was familiar with. The nostalgic drill of questions, the biting words. The rumours. The guesses. The endless waiting before the inevitable grabbing of the boy's hair, shoving him into his room.

Eddie Munson didn't like talking that much.

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12/01/1975

"Eddie, I just want to talk to you." The boy was young again, curled up in his room as his father sat at the end of the sofa. The broken springs poking out from the inside of the couch an indication of their poorly-kept house.

Eddie was supposed to take care of that. To look after himself and tend to the chores whilst his father was away, paying the bills. How the man did just that, Eddie should have been far too young to understand.

Instead, he was involved, and rather than writing book reports or complaining about decently simple algebra, the boy had resorted to learning how to hotwire a car. To jump through a broken window without getting scratched. To run as fast as he could until he collapsed, knees scraping against the concrete, scabs forming that would never heal. Callouses on his hands that remained to this day.

"I don't want to." He mumbled out, and a hand gripped his jaw, forcing him to look upwards.

"Wasn't a question." The boy winced, screwing his eyes shut as if that would make it better. Like his mother, he too, wished he could disappear. Run away, like she had fled in the middle of the night, leaving everything in his life behind. Not like he had much, anyways.

"Why'd ya' do it?" He shook his head disapprovingly at the boy, eyes furrowing in mock sympathy. His thumb moved gently over his cheek and Eddie shrunk into himself, tears welling and distorting his vision.

"You know how I feel about that shit, boy. 'S useless. Not gonna do you any favours in the future."

Good, he decided, and he let the tears cloud his eyes. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to see anything.

Maybe it would make it hurt less.

By the end of the night, the boy was left a cluttered heap against the cheap wooden floors. He'd only asked his father to come to a parent's evening, and the boy soon began to regret opening his mouth. To regret speaking, and to regret ever existing at all.

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

"We just want to talk."

Dustin Henderson had only witnessed this once before, a borderline panic attack (within himself in the early mornings, viewed only by the emptiness of his own house with the odd occasion of Steve), and watched as Eddie Munson flinched. He practically whimpered, horrors flashing before his eyes faster than he could think.

Chrissy's snapped neck, a withering form of the girl who'd radiated life in the forest only hours prior.

His hands twitched and Dustin backed up, hands raised in a mock surrender as he allowed the boy the space he needed. He remembered his first time witnessing everything, and Eddie had seen far worse than him already.

It wasn't fair, he thought, looking at the quivering form of the man on the floor. The man that was usually so strong, so independent, so brutally unphased.

Steve ran a hand through his hair in the background, eyes flitting between the metalhead and Dustin. He hadn't known him long enough to be sure that he was safe, and he'd be damned if he'd let Dustin get hurt on his watch. He hadn't so far, and he didn't intend to let it happen. Ever.

He glanced at you and you tossed him a sharp nod, a reassurance, and he visibly untensed. relaxing slightly, recognising the overwhelming fear in Eddie's eyes. He wasn't hostile, he was scared. Lashing out to defend himself, protect himself. It almost looked familiar, a stance Steve had taken with his parents so many times before.

"Okay," Dustin started, quickly interrupted as Robin pulled herself from your grasp, leaning down to put herself face to face with Eddie.

"We just want to know what happened." She nodded, voice hushed as if not to frighten him any further; as if she were afraid he would run away.

He looked away, shaking his head as he avoided your gazes, tears brimming at his lashes. He couldn't see anything that didn't remind him of her, and he was so scared it was going to happen again. That this was his consequence- the freak finally getting what he deserved. That the evil had followed him here, seeped into his life and was just waiting to catch him off-guard for a moment.

"You won't believe me." He choked out through gritted teeth, and as much as you hated seeing your friend in pain, you had to stifle a laugh at how ironic the situation was. How many times had you come close to spilling everything to him? To getting him involved, only to make the decision he was far better off without it?

You supposed it wasn't your choice to make anymore. He was already in it, now.

"Try us." Max muttered, a small smile on her face as she pushed him that little bit further. He was so close to cracking, to opening up. She just needed him to trust you all.

He took a breath.

Another.

With as much courage as he could gather, he started the story.

"Her body just like, lifted up into the air and uh-" He hesitated, hands shaking as he thought back to the vision of the girl on his ceiling, "and she just like, hung there."

He was drifting in and out of consciousness, eyes fixated on a single crooked nail sticking out of the wall. He didn't know what would happen if he looked away, but he was sure he would crumble. His voice wavered, heavy panting breaths as he attempted to force the words out. They refused, and his sentence trailed off, hanging in the air, a perfect picture of Chrissy Cunningham.

"In the air. And her bones, they uh, she-" He screwed his eyes shut, a small whimper slipping from his lips as he composed himself, "It just- her bones started to snap."

He spat out the last word, tears falling freely now, as he was under no duty to remain stoic or strong. He was scared, and he was going to act it. He was terrified, to be honest, and he was coming to the rather fast conclusion that he was a coward for leaving her behind.

He was more than aware about how it sounded, and he'd been amazed that you'd even heard him out rather than painting him as a murderer and bolting. He thinks he'd prefer it, anyways; anything but the looks of pity that everyone was giving him. He didn't deserve them, he wasn't hard done by.

Chrissy deserved them.

"Her eyes, man." He refused to look at them still, hands gesturing wildly to present the picking of the brain, a thin copper spiel pulling from behind her irises, "-there was something inside her head, pulling. I just-I didn't know what to do, so I ran away."

He sounded dejected now, as if he were only just coming to the conclusion that this hadn't just been an awful nightmare. This was real, Chrissy was dead, and he had left her behind. There was no changing everything, not when it had already been set in motion.

"I left her there."

Total silence.

"You all think I'm crazy," He scoffed, hand coming up to rub at his eyes, "right?"

"No, we don't think you're crazy-" Dustin started, interrupted by Eddie's shouts as his hand gripped at his forehead, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"Don't bullshit me man, I know how this sounds!" He cried, lower lip wobbling in a way that had him feeling like a child. He was, in a way, taken back to all those times in the trailer he'd grown up in. Lips in a permanent point, tears streaming from his cheeks as his father pulled at his brown locks, cutting them off.

"We're not bullshitting you." Max murmured, arms crossed as she nodded, sarcasm gone from her tone. Even she understood the severity of things now.

"-We believe you." Robin spoke, and Eddie simply shook his head.

"Look, what I'm about to tell you might be a little...difficult, to take."

"Okay?"

"You know how people say Hawkins is cursed?"

"They're not like, way off." You interrupted, offering the boy another sad smile. You wanted him to be fine, to be far away from here. You couldn't protect Robin, and now one of the only other friends you'd made was slipping away too.

"There's another world," Dustin explained, "A world hidden beneath Hawkins. And sometimes, it bleeds into ours."

"Like ghosts and shit?" Eddie muttered, eyebrows furrowed in a curious gaze, tears dried and matted against his cheeks.

"There are some things worse than ghosts." You rubbed a reassuring hand on Max's back as she spoke, eyes flickering back to Billy. She could see his face, hear his voice, the trickle of his mannerisms that had seeped into her. Wormed their way into her, like maggots. Albeit the fact that he had saved her, he had ruined her first.

"These monsters from this other world, we thought they were gone. But they've come back before, and that's why we needed to find you."

"If they're back again, we need to know, Eddie." You said, expression cold once more. Both of you being emotional messes wasn't going to help anyone right now, and he needed to understand that you were safe. That he was as safe as he could be now, with your little group.

"That night, did you see anything? Dark particles, maybe?" Robin pleaded, trying to dig deeper, Steve wandering to both your sides, absentmindedly tapping Robin's shoulder. Rhythmically, a comfort. Four taps.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust?"

"No, there was nothing that you could see, or uh, or touch-" His voice drifted off, quickly replaced by a ringing in your ears, one that Robin picked up on immediately. She glanced over at Steve, he nodded, and she grabbed onto your wrist. Nails digging in, trying to prove that you were still there. A grip you hadn't felt since Starcourt, since she'd feared for both your lives. She tugged you along and pleaded for you to follow her down the corridor, accompanied by the sound of a creaking door as the two of you tumbled in.

The door slammed shut, locking you in as you edged towards the bed.

It only took a second; one momentous second where the world stopped spinning. A second where the ocean ceased to move and the earth stopped tilting on its axis. The sun stopped shining. The moon stopped glimmering, and the relieved smile fell from both your faces.

One second, and Robin Buckley was in your arms again.

Hands wrapped around you, pressing you tight, holding you close, closer, until you couldn't tell where you ended and she began. Just the two of you, for a second, in a quiet room within an almost-empty house.

You took her head between your hands, fingers gently skimming over the thousands of stories you already knew. The small scratch below her eye a papercut from a paper aeroplane gone wrong, the scar against the corner of her cheek from a jagged little stone after a rogue biking incident, and the constellation of freckles that adorn her cheeks. She's there, she's Robin, and somehow, despite it all, she's still alive.

She's still alive, you've kept your promise, and you've found that's all that matters.

"You're okay?" You murmured, a question that you already knew the answer to; however you found that the relief overwhelming you when her next words spilled from her tongue was more than satisfactory.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. I'm alright, promise." She whispered, smile quickly returning to the both of you as the warm realisation settled deep into your bones.

A simple nod, and then she was in your arms once more. Head buried in the crook of your neck, gentle kisses soft to the touch. Nails gripping into your sides as if you would simply stop existing the moment she let you go, and the gentle scratch of her arms against yours, a rough patch from where she'd managed to catch herself on the stove at yours. For a moment, just a moment, the issues between you two were gone; no Vickie, no Vecna, no frantic murders, no disapproving town - the two of you could just be.

She pulled away quickly after the knock at the door, only another second before the world began anew. She was out of your arms, and the sun began to shine again. The Earth kept turning, and Steve Harrington found himself in the doorway, glancing at the compromising position between the two of you.

You scrambled away, both pulling limbs from the entangled pile you'd created, breath returning to normal as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. Steve smiled slightly, the tension seeping from his body as things slowly returned to normal, and he watched what he believed to be an intricate game of 'cat and mouse' between the two of you.

"This is such bullshit." He muttered, landing himself on the bed besides you as the group continued to drawl on in the other room.

"I mean come on, floating people? At the very least, they're getting creative." Robin chuckled, the three of you bursting into a round of giggles, disbelief clouding the room. Keeping it isolated from the rest of the world, just for a moment. A small room where everyone is safe, no responsibilities, and one where the three of you are not required to bear the weight of the world.

A room where the three of you can breathe freely, as the burden of the Earth is removed from your shoulders. Where the three of you become Atlas, the globe slipping and cluttering to the floor in a heap.

Forgotten, gathering dust, beside everyone else.

"I want to go home." Steve whispered against the comfort, a small mercy that was much appreciated given the day's events. Both you and Robin found yourselves nodding, wanting nothing more than to crash after running on pure adrenaline for the last 24 hours.

"A sandwich would be nice," Robin grumbled, head tilting back against the headboard as the flimsy wall creaked and groaned. Magazines lay strewn across the room, small receipts crumpled in the palm of a hand scattered along the bed. It wasn't stable, far from it, and the longer you all lay there, the faster you were convinced it would collapse. Gone from beneath you, a pile of splinters left in its wake.

It was a reminder that no matter how normal things may seem, it all could collapse in less than a second. All it took was a particular cruel moment to bare its teeth, wrap hard around the moment and bite.

But between the three of you, you could all feel that it wouldn't happen that night. No, fate was a being much crueller, and would let you relax first. Let you succumb to the domesticity of normal life before pulling you under the wave. Drowning you in the chaos, and letting your corpse float back to shore. For that to happen, it would have to leave you alone first.

So, Steve headed back to his empty house, Robin to hers and you to yours, waiting for the first sign of trouble. For the penny to drop, the hat to tip. A warning, that of which you all assumed wouldn't come (hopefully), for a long, long time.

Meanwhile, the following morning, Lucas Sinclair woke from a much-disturbed slumber. Startled, the boy shot up, head pounding and his mouth unimaginably dry.

Fuck.

He knew he'd gotten slightly loose after last night, an understandable move after the ever-growing pile of stress had finally tipped over for the boy.

Whether it was Max's snappy attitude and refusal to talk to him, or the fact that his friends had all refused to watch out for him at his championship game, or the boys' sudden love for their new Dungeon master and their ridiculously quick replacement of Will, or the abandonment as a friend:

Lucas Sinclair was feeling it all. He'd allowed it to creep over him, pulling over in waves and suffocating him until he couldn't stand it another second; so he'd gotten drunk. Blackout, nausea-inducing by simple mention of it, table-dancing drunk.

And he found rather quickly that he was alright with that. He'd finally found a place to feel comfortable, normal, even.

People who still wanted him around. People who respected him, and did not put him down as if he wasn't just as smart, and wasn't part of anything that him and his friends had accomplished. People who he could talk to, and people who would keep him safe at parties when he couldn't think anymore. Where he just couldn't handle thinking anymore.

He stumbled up and over to the door, hand pressed gently against the side of his temples as he massaged the aching skin, a hurt drilled deep inside his skull that only several hours rest could rid him of. There was a distinct muttering from behind the door, and as he slowly opened it, enough to lean against the frame whilst still remaining conscious to the world, he was met with three familiar faces.

"He sees all this? He sees us? He'll shit his pants and cry for his mum. This guy's no fighter," Chance spat, letterman jacket plastered across his back as he fiddled with an old wrench. The boy had spirit, and drive, enough that chilled Lucas to the core.

"God, almost hope he tries something. Gives me a reason." Jason Carver murmured, head stuck rooting through the Range Rover, images of his now ex-girlfriend spinning over his eyes. Weaving a world where Chrissy Cunningham was alive and happy and content, the way she was always meant to be.

He was good to her. He knew that much; he'd dedicated every match since freshman year to the girl, he'd met her parents, he'd given her flowers on every date night and he'd been nothing less than a gentleman with a heart that beat in the shape of her name.

She had been his, and him hers, and now she was gone. He was going to make Eddie Munson pay, if it was the last thing he did.

"Well well! Look who's decided to join." Andy swung the rusted wrench over in Lucas' direction, welcoming smile against his lips with fangs bared. The look in his eyes didn't frighten the boy in the slightest, as he had seen much worse before.

The unforgiving wrench between his fingers did, though.

He felt accepted, as though he was part of their group, and that they had reached some understanding. However, he also knew who they were talking about. He wasn't clueless, and his friends meant more than anything to him.

So he was going to play it risky, and keep his cards far too close to his chest. He was going to stick it out because he had seen this before, and he was going to help his friends. Help Max. Even if it cost him his own sanity.

"What are you guys doing?"

"We're gearing up," Patrick muttered, tossing another bag into the boot of the car.

"Preparing for the hunt." Andy smirked, a vicious grin as he tossed the wrench so it landed besides the other bags. Jason Carver seemed as though he should be joining them, revelling in the notion of revenge.

Instead, he just seemed to look so awfully sad. Subconscious reminiscing over what he could've had.

Of course, he hadn't liked Eddie Munson, and the man had gotten on his nerves more times than he could count, but he certainly respected him. To share his beliefs so easily, to prosper when others would have failed. When Jason himself would have failed. If asked, Jason Carver would never have pegged Eddie Munson as a murderer.

Times change, the boy supposed.

Although he didn't look it, there was a need for revenge hidden quietly beneath his skin. A burning want, an insatiable need for blood. An eye for an eye. Eddie had taken something so pure and innocent and good from the world, and Jason was going to make him squirm up until the very last second.

"Hunt the freak."

Justice for Chrissy Cunningham, once and for all.

He picked up on the unease in Lucas, walking over and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Voice a hushed whisper, an attempt at a small comfort to stand beside his slowly-twisting grin.

"Hey man, relax. We're not killers like Eddie. We just wanna talk to him."

A twitch in the boy's eye, and Jason Carver thought back to the pair dancing across his kitchen together. About how much happier she'd seemed away from her own home. The blonde's hand in his own, a gentle squeeze to remind him that she was alright.

"Get him to admit to his crime."

"Yeah," Andy chimed in, "Just a friendly neighbourhood chat."

Jason shook his head, turning back to the boy. He wanted to give him an out, a chance to outrun all of this suffering. No one else had to hurt like he did. He would take his pain and he would clutch it tight, letting it consume the empty cavity in his chest to ensure that no one else would ever feel the way he did.

"Hey, you didn't know Chris. If you're not up to this, you can go home - there's no judgement. You'll still be one of us, right?"

Lucas' heart clenched at every syllable. A bubbling pain, a reminder that when this was all over, when he had finished playing his role, he would be shunned from both sides. This was his home, and he would string it up and decorate the walls for as long as possible. The thought of the hand on his shoulder and a picture-frame hung in the corridor (of him and the Mayfield-girl), and the boy was sold.

"No, I'm good. I wanna help."

A small smile from Jason Carver. He wondered if this was what acceptance felt like.

"Alright."

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

"So you're saying this....thing, that killed Fred and Chrissy, it's from the upside down?" Nancy Wheeler's voice rang out against the bleak emptiness of the Forest Hills trailer park, glancing across the bench where Dustin Henderson slumped forwards, joined by five other figures swarmed around the table.

"If the shoe fits," Steve mumbled, eyes darting from Dustin, to Max, and to the Henderson boy once more.

"Our working theory," Dustin started, "is that he attacks with a spell? Or a curse? Now, whether or not he's doing the Mind Flayer's bidding, or he just loves killing teens, we don't know."

"All we know is that it's something different. Something new." Max interrupted, as she desperately attempted to drown out the ringing behind her ears.

"It doesn't make sense!"

"It's only a theory-" Dustin reassured the oldest Wheeler, although Nancy wasn't necessarily in the mood to be talked down. She didn't understand something, and as always, it quickly became an itch festering under her skin. Inside her bones, and reverberated around until it reached out to clutch at the missing pieces of the puzzle.

"No, Fred and Chrissy don't make sense. I mean, why them?"

"Maybe they were just in the wrong place?"

"No, Nancy's right- when has anything to do with the Upside-Down so far, ended up just a coincidence?" You muttered, and Robin's eyes caught yours. If you hadn't been looking as intently as you were, you wouldn't have caught the flicker of a smile that played across her lips.

"But they were both at the game?"

"And at the trailer park-" Max offered, attempting to provide some concrete evidence to Dustin's abstract conclusion.

"...We're at the trailer Park." Steve's eyes widened as the realisation hit him.

"Should we maybe...not be here?"

"There's definitely something weird about this place. Fred started acting off the second we got here."

"Acting weird as in...?" Robin questioned, clawing for just a moment of brutal reassurance. She'd only just gotten you all back, and she refused to lose you again.

"Scared, on edge, upset," She listed.

Whether or not Robin kept a closer eye on you and Steve after that didn't matter.

(She did.)

However, that didn't stop an inkling of doubt creeping in; any smile was taken with a pinch of salt, any chuckle with a grain of sand, and any flouncy comment under the assumption that it was simply a façade- she didn't have the time nor the resources to waste a moment, not when it came to the both of you.

"Max said Chrissy was upset too."

"Yeah, but not here- she was crying in the bathroom at school."

"Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?" Robin suggested, head drifting back to a frantic library search three years prior, a scramble as she realised that people were often not as kind as they seemed.

"So maybe, Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman-"

"-Vecna." Dustin corrected, eyes rolling automatically as the girl grit her teeth, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"I don't know about you guys but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone."

"What if she felt like she couldn't?" You bit back, Steve immediately raising his hands in a mock surrender.

"I'm just saying!"

"Maybe they did." Max interrupted, eyes widening as a picture of the blonde girl came to life, bouncing ponytail as she raced down the halls, wiping furiously at the space beneath her eyes.

"I saw Chrissy leaving Miss Kelley's office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn't go to the police, they'd never believe you. But you might go to-"

"-your shrink." Robin grinned, and all five of you took to your feet in an instant. The ground held steady, firm beneath you, although the weight of the conclusion you'd all come to raced through your veins.

More specifically, the thought pounded through your head, having seen Fred Benson leave the woman's office a few days prior.

And Max.

The redhead bounded past you more than once on your daily rendezvous with Robin, mind scattered elsewhere with a far-away look in her eye. A headache that never seemed to cease, and the never-ending nightmares.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and what had once been an innocent thought under the guise of protecting your friend became a rather large one, consuming everything in its path.

You rushed towards the abandoned cars before Nancy veered off, walking mindlessly towards an empty road.

"Nancy? Where are you going?" Steve muttered, chasing after her and stumbling slightly, panic-stricken look coating his face.

"Oh. I just- I just wanted to go check on something first."

"Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?" Dustin yelled, arms spread wide as Nancy shoved hers into her pockets, fiddling mindlessly with the breaking denim.

"I don't wanna waste your time. It's a real shot in the dark."

"Yeah, okay." Steve paused, "Are you out of your mind?"

The girl froze, eyebrows raised as Robin caught your gaze, a chuckle quickly escaping her lips. Luckily, you seemed to be the only one who heard, and hers made you think twice about stifling your one.

"Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose? No, no it's too dangerous- you need, you need someone to-" He stopped, nodding his head as his sentence trailed off, and you smiled as his trembling hands.

"Here. I'll stick with Nance-" He threw his keys at Robin and your jaw dropped, having never seen him hand over trust so quickly. No one was ever allowed to drive the BMW.

"You guys take the car, check out the shrink."

"I don't think you want me driving your car!"

"Why not?"

"Maybe because she doesn't have a licence?" You suggested, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you have a licence?"

"I'm...poor." She phrased it like a question, trailing off with raised eyebrows and a hopeful smile, mind drifting back to a night over the summer you'd spent in her arms.

"You ever think about leaving here?" You murmured, arms around her waist as she curled in closer to you, sunlight barely streaming in through the blinds. Robin had gotten used to the lack of mugs and trinkets that were so common in her own home, taking advantage of all the high-tech inventions scattered around your house. She took polaroids of the both of you in domestic situations and hung them in the halls, accompanied by fairy lights and a promise of the future. Her home was already that, a home, but yours was simply a house.

Until Robin Buckley had arrived, of course. No, the girl was determined to do everything in her path to make you feel content and safe in your space, especially when she wasn't there to help. She wanted you to feel as happy as she did when she approached the towering four walls. Wanted your heart to race the same way hers did when she rang the doorbell, knowing that you were only a few steps away.

"What, Hawkins? Of course I do. Do you?" She questioned, and you think that Robin Buckley might have always been your home. Your breath only hitches when she's near and you are only filled with the perfect air of contentment when she is beside you, and so you think that there is no use for a home when she is right there.

Robin Buckley may have always been your home, and you pray to God that she always will be.

"Yeah. It wouldn't take much, either. A few savings accounts here and there, the Camaro until Max can drive it, and a few hours. We'd be gone." She smiled wistfully at your words, allowing herself just this once to imagine what a life outside Hawkins might look like. A life with you.

"Where would we go?"

"France. Maybe Paris. Fancy food, good wine, poetry." You mumbled, and the girl's grin only widened. She was all too aware about how many conversations you'd listened in on when the two of you were sat near, the incessant French rambling about the desire to get away. She thinks France would make her happy. You think you'd like to see her happy anywhere, as long as she looks at you the way she's looking now. Love behind her eyes, nothing less. Pure, all-consuming love.

"Need to learn to drive first."

"I'd wait." The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them. Not a moment of hesitation, and the girl kissed you. Again, and again, and again.

You'd wait.

You'd always wait for her.

"I can drive?" Max offered, and the boys eyes widened, aggressively pointing a finger at the small child.

"No. NO. Never again, please, anybody but you."

Dustin took a calculated at risk and attempted to offer his hand, quickly dismissed by Steve.

"Right. Jones, then- you drive."

"Can't, I have to look after the Camaro."

"All right, okay," Robin started, "this is stupid. Us ladies will stick together. Unless you think we need you to protect us?" She moved to stand by Nancy, waiting for you as the severity of the situation washed over you.

You needed to take care of Max first, and if the conversation you'd walked in on meant anything to her, she very clearly didn't want you around.

The sinking pit in your stomach returned, and you glanced over at Steve.

"I think I'm gonna go with Steve and the kids, actually."

"Oh. Yeah, no, of course, that's fine- we'll see you later?" She asked, more of a quiet muttering met with a small nod.

"Be careful!" Steve shouted as the two of them turned on their heels, walking away.

"What, you just gonna stand there and gawk?" Dustin teased, and both you and Steve turned to look at him, stuttering before you realised that the comment was intended for Steve.

"Shut up, and get in the car."

You chuckled as you climbed into your own car beside him, watching as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

"Always the babysitter," He grumbled, "Always the godamn babysitter!"

He pressed his foot to the floor, and you followed, leaving nothing but dust in your wake.

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

Nancy Wheeler hadn't noticed Robin before this. Of course, she knew of the talkative girl, almost always the focus of Steve's irritated rants, but she'd never met her before. She often wondered why you'd never bothered to introduce the two of you.

Now, thinking back to the look on your face as you watched the rambling girl, she knew why.

Nancy Wheeler was many things, but she had never been, nor would she ever be dull. You knew that much, and presumably, you'd known that she would figure out exactly what Robin Buckley meant to you.

"So, Wayne Munson, Eddie's uncle, thinks that Victor Creel escaped from Pennhurst Asylum, and that he's the one running around committing these murders?"

"Pretty much."

"But Victor committed the eyeball murders, like way back in the '50's."

"Well, '59-" Nancy corrected, attempting to get a word in edgeways before Robin began again. For some reason, she couldn't stop thinking about how dejected you'd looked as you'd said goodbye. How resigned you looked to be just another part of her life when you meant more than anything.

So, Robin Buckley did what Robin Buckley did best, and the girl kept talking.

"-that means that these murders predate Eleven in the Upside Down, by about 30 years?"

"Yeah."

"Which makes spooky Victor Creel almost 70 years old."

"Yep." She reached forward, and pressed the bell. She hadn't slept well the night prior, and that certainly wasn't helping her mood, or the short tolerance she felt when dealing with the hyperactive girl currently balancing on the balls of her feet.

"So, he's a grandpa murderer who can turn invisible, and lift people into the air?"

"It doesn't make sense, I know. That's why I said it was a shot in the dark."

She rang the bell again.

"I know, I just thought that by 'shot in the dark' you were being modest, or hiding something super solid up your sleeve that you were gonna wow us with later!"

The bell went off three more times.

"-but this is like really, truly a shot in the dark! Like we are snipers with blindfolds on-"

Nancy grit her teeth as her hand hovered over the small golden circle, fingers itching to interrupt her.

"-who've been spun around fifty times!"

Eventually the girl gave in, slamming her hand down on the rusty metal continuously with a false smile, tossing Robin a wicked grin in order to avoid insulting her.

"Coming! Coming-" Another lady rushed over, hands filled with overflowing boxes of trinkets, before landing in front of the pair, adjusting her glasses.

"Hi, sorry, we're in a bit of a rush, can we get the keys to the basement archives?"

"Of course, just give me one second-"

A moment of silence spilled out across the room as the woman rushed off.

"....did I come off as mean, or condescending, or rude or something?"

"...No."

"Sorry, it's just- you seem annoyed. You don't know me very well! I don't have a filter or a strong grasp of social cues," She continued, arms flailing about.

"Okay."

"-so if I say something that upsets you, just know that I know it's a flaw, believe me, my mother reminds me daily!"

Her eyebrows raised at this, and for a moment, the eldest Wheeler almost looked concerned.

Another second passed.

"Got it."

"Okay."

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

"Okay? Okay? You saw that, and all you had to say was it went okay? It very clearly did not go okay!" You rambled, Max at Ms. Kelly's door and Dustin still sat in the BMW.

Steve slumped into the Camaro beside you, slamming the door shut as his hands moved to massage his temples, quickly turning and shutting the radio off.

"Yes, it went okay! Look, come on, neither of you are subtle! She likes you-"

"No, she likes Vickie!" You spat out, eyes rolling at the absurdity of the situation as you tried desperately to come to terms with what she'd said.

"Oh good god you're both stubborn. Right, she might not like you, but you definitely like her." He grumbled out, leaning his head back against the car seat.

You let him linger in the content silence that drowned the car. Your eyes darted out the window, scanning over the greenery and the world in an attempt to preserve how it was before Steve Harrington knew.

"Yes. Fine, Steve, I like her."

"I knew it!" He jumped up from the seat, scrambling like a mad man to face you, and you winced.

"Sorry, sorry-" He calmed slightly, and you desperately wanted to tear his prying eyes from your silhouette.

"What about Nancy?"

He froze.

"What about Nancy?" He tried to play it off, hand resting against the back of his neck.

"Oh come on, don't play stupid. What the hell was that back there? 'Oh yeah, way too dangerous for you to be out there alone, you need someone to protect you-' " You chuckled, mimicking a gruff impression of the man beside you.

"I don't sound like that!"

"You totally do."

You both stilled as Dustin slid into the back of the Camaro, slamming the door as he watched Max slowly walk into the building. Beckoned, by the guidance counsellor's hand, a pitiful look cast over her face. Max had found that they'd become her least favourite part about the whole process. Not the death, the nightmares, the headaches- just the unending pity that everyone used to look down on her.

"Okay, she's in." Steve muttered.

"I'm missing collarbones, not eyes." He dismissed quickly, looking closer before relishing in the silence. Attempting to, at least.

"So, we gonna talk about...it?"

"Huh? Sorry, what? Talk about what?" Steve pulled his eyes away from the door, turning back to face Dustin.

"Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance?"

"See? It isn't just me who thinks so!" You chimed in, completely satisfied knowing that you weren't in fact blind, or slowly losing it.

"Okay, first of all, that's not what happened-"

"Pretty sure that's what happened."

"It was pretty public, Steve." You murmured, interrupted by Dustin.

"Mhm, there was like a lot of witnesses."

"Are either of you implying I still have a thing for Nance?"

"Not implying- I'm stating, and as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Robin," You winced, attempting to stifle a laugh that thankfully Dustin took as amusement of Steve's antics, "it's pretty much the only logical explanation."

"That's not the only one. And as for Nance, I was just trying to...protect a friend."

A small smirk grew on the boy's face, and you had to fight back your own.

"A friend, Henderson, okay?"

"Okay!"

"I don't want to find her int he morning with her eyes sucked out of her skull by this Vecna creep-"

"And you were totally happy to let Robin go?" You raised and eyebrow, and he stopped.

"You are like bright red in the face right now!" Dustin laughed, and you joined in, taking a sick sort of pleasure watching Steve aimlessly try to defend himself. It wasn't that you didn't care for him, you did, and the second the teasing became too much for him you'd stop. But luckily, neither of you had thought about the events of the past three days during the time you'd spent in the car, so you were counting that as a win.

"No I'm not. I don't wanna talk about it. I'll punch you so hard in your face that your teeth will fall back out-" You both stopped, jaw dropped as Dustin stilled.

"Whoa, too far."

"That was mean, Steve."

"Yeah, sorry, too far. Not cool. I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"It's cool, it's okay-"

He reached forward to fist-bump Steve, and you switched the radio back on, letting the crackling voices fill the hole the red-head had left.

The Mayfield girl hadn't been inside the house long, but allowed the counsellor to take her by her hand and parade her around like some sort of artefact. A trophy, proof of the woman's success, despite there being no other witnesses to the scene.

Even so, Max let it continue, ignoring the acid pooling in her mouth and the shifting emptiness that seemed to follow her. Taunt her, consuming every waking thing in its path. The girl presumed it wouldn't be long before it swallowed her whole, too.

"Here she comes, here she comes-" Steve murmured, eyes trailing her figure and the door to ensure she wasn't followed, gaze then moving to fixate on the jangling keys she held between her fingertips.

The girl slid into the back with ease, blinking visions behind empty eyes as Dustin continued to speak.

"What'd she say?"

"Nothing. Just drive." Steve would not let this go easily. Not when he'd seen how the tragedy at Starcourt had broken her, and how he'd spent the past months building up his rapport with the girl. Not when he'd seen how uncaring she was, selflessly throwing herself into the line of fire when it wasn't necessary. She reminded him of himself sometimes, a younger Steve with a thirst for danger.

For pain, for hurt, for feeling. How he'd brushed off people from his pedestal and self-sabotaged every good thing in his life. He doesn't want the girl behind him to turn out how he did. He thinks he'd prefer anything else.

"Nothing?"

"Jones, drive!" She insisted, the four of you slinking into an uncomfortable silence as the girl slumped in on herself, letting the darkness bite away at her, inch by inch.

Before long, the girl began stalking the halls of Hawkins High once more, flashlight flickering against the emptiness of the night. She crept around corners, tracing the steps she'd walked so many times before.

Except this time was different.

She wasn't sure how, only that the air had turned cold, the colours diminished and muted whilst a deafening silence settled across the school. The flashlight flickered again. Everything was wrong.

She remembered how she'd slumped against the lockers with Lucas, erupting into fits of giggles as the rest of the team sprinted past. How they'd seemed so isolated, so lonely from the rest of the world, and yet perhaps the most content she'd ever been.

As her breath hitched in the back of her throat, she realised she would trade anything to go back to that moment. Anything to feel her hand in his, the heavy reassurance that things would be fine.

Instead, she did not find the body of Lucas Sinclair, or the sweet assurance that finding him would bring, but the empty corpse of a grandfather clock hidden in the wall.

At the same time, in a world beneath her own, Henry Creel stood alone in an attic, vines stretching out to engulf the world. To spread out like a leech, to infect everything he could see. To connect the living world to his own. He felt Maxine Mayfield's heart stop, only for a moment, and the man smiled.

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Taglist: @onceandfuturequeenofthecats@triskoof@shysneeze @shysneeze-recs

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