djosfavewig

[djosfavewig]

IM SAT

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: Guess who’s backkkkk! (It’s Eddie.)

Currently Reading: Part Seven

Masterlist

Max and Lucas sit on either side of you, the music playing from Max’s headphones blending with the music from the car radio. Nancy drives, Robin sits passenger, Dustin and Steve sit in the back- multiple grocery bags filling the spot you had occupied on the way to the Creel House.

The tension between you, Nancy, and Steve had faded to the background, making the air lighter than before. Still, you feel the sway of your emotions every time you look at either of them. Part of you wants to apologize, but you can’t make yourself admit to anything. You hadn’t been wrong to be upset, but it gnaws at you anyways.

“Not to be a wimp, but can I maybe sit in the car for this visit, cause this is gonna totally and entirely suck.” Robin asks.

“It’ll be fine.” Nancy responds without taking her eyes off of the road as she drives across town to the boathouse.

“I just can’t stand to see those doe eyes of Eddie’s break again.” She sighs. “I really, really can’t.”

“At least he can drink himself into feeling better.” Steve says through a mouthful of something, raising a case of beer with his left hand.

“That’s what my mom does.” Max says, causing Lucas to lean and look at her from your other side.

“Why don’t we give it a trial?” Robin puts on a gentle voice. “Hey, Eddie! Good news first this time, we got you some Dustin-approved junk food and that six-pack you requested. Oh, yeah- and we found Vecna. Only, the bad news is that he’s in that other, darker, much scarier dimension that we told you about and the gates closed, so we have no way of getting to him. He’s entirely shut off to us, so basically, you’re screwed. And no, no- I know you were already screwed, but now you’re like doubly, triply screwed.”

Lucas is quick to reply. “Maybe, we don’t put it like that.”

“We’re one step closer to finding Vecna. That’s what we say. That's what’s important.” Nancy says, sounding as sure of herself as you are.

“See, Robin?” Steve says from behind you. “A positive spin can make all the difference.”

“Oh, shit.” Nancy slows the car as you approach the house- a wall of vehicles and bystanders crowding at the barricades in front of it.

The car doors are thrown open as soon as she parks, everyone filing out and the boys jumping from the back. Quickly, avoiding the eye of the police, you skirt around the side of a news van, getting a direct view of the sheriff reporting to the cameras. He speaks loudly enough that you can hear, but what he says only unsettles you.

“A little after midnight, we’re reporting a homicide out here on the lake. Officer Callahan here and myself arrived first on the scene. We made our way to the shore of Lover’s Lake, about ten yards from the house you see behind me.”

Your father’s house.

A quick scan of the street, and you find his car parked near a police cruiser. Cursing, you shrink back, until you're hidden by Robin and Steve.

“It was there that we found the victim, an eighteen year old senior from Hawkins High, Patric McKinney.”

Lucas falls still.

“His limbs, his body, it was disfigured. There was an eyewitness on the scene. We’ve also identified a person of interest...”

He raises a photo, and you press your hand to your chest as your heartbeat quickens and your stomach drops. The photo is clear, the dark curly hair unmistakable.

“Eddie Munson.”

“This is not good.” Steve says. “This is really not good.”

Moments after the Sheriff ends the report, the radio sounds. You help Dustin grab it, hoping that the sound wasn’t audible above the noise of the reporters begging for more information.

“Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler?”

“Eddie, holy shit, are you okay?” Dustin responds as you all move back towards the car.

“Nah, man. Pretty…” He sounds more stressed than he had the last time you’d heard from him. “Pretty goddamn far from okay.”

“Where is he?” Robin asks.

Dustin repeats her. “Where are you?”

“Skull Rock. Do you know it?”

“Uh, yeah? That’s near Cornwallis and-”

“Garrett, yeah, I know.” Steve nods and hurries across the street. “I know where that is.”

====

The forest is oddly calming. The sound of the wind rustled leaves, the smell of the earth, it's soothing to you as you walk. Though, between Dustin and Steve’s differing directions, you seem to backtrack more often than you go forward.

The two argue ahead of the group, trying to figure out the location of Skull Rock, both refusing to back down. Behind them are Nancy and Robin. A few yards behind you, Max and Lucas talk quietly, sharing glances and quiet conversation, sometimes it looks more painful than comforting. You stay far enough ahead to not impose, giving them the privacy they deserve.

Nancy and Robin are more difficult to ignore, they speak at a regular volume, but they don’t seem keen on falling back enough to spare you the details of their conversation.

“You think I’m not happy?” Nancy scoffs after Robin suggests she and Steve might…rekindle their past romance.

“I’m sure you are, it’s just the other day in the library, I mentioned Jonathan’s and you sort of flinched or winced or something-”

“I didn’t flinch or wince. Jonathan and I are fine, we’re good.”

“Okay, got it. Right.”

A lull in conversation, and you hold your breath in hopes that it’s the end. But then Nancy speaks again, and you alter your pace in an effort to put a few more steps between you.

“It’s just…He was supposed to be here for the break and then he backed out at the last minute for some vague, mumbly Johnathan reason. And to be honest I’m not even that surprised, because I’ve been feeling him pulling away lately. And I don’t know if it’s because we’re two thousand miles away or if he met someone new or what. And now, I can’t find out why, because apparently he’s blown up his family’s house phone or something. So, yeah, if the mention of his name caused a slight muscle spasm on my face- that’s probably why.”

“Seems like a perfectly reasonable reason to flinch, wince, or something.”

A quiet moment, and you think it’s over, at least the part that makes your head hurt.

“You said, ‘the happiness of your friends. So, does that make us friends?” Nancy asks Robin carefully, as if hesitant. “As in, officially?”

“Uh, yeah.” Robin agrees. “I mean, right?”

“Right.”

Ahead, Steve and Dustin make another turn, this time it’s less drastic than the others, and when Steve moves aside the overgrown foliage, the destination has finally been found.

“Oh, boom.” Steve says triumphantly, pushing his way through. “Bada-bing, Bada-boom. There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face man, in your stupid, cocky little face.”

Letting the rest of the group move through the branches first, you let out a quiet plea that Eddie’s still here, preferably alive. Then you step through and look up at the boulders. It’s clear where the name came from, divots the rock forming a shape similar to eye sockets above a vague jawbone shaped lower portion. The largest boulder, the skull, sits atop two smaller ones, leaving a small sheltered area underneath.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Dustin says, looking up from his compass.

Steve brushes it off, hands on his hips as he stares up at the structure. “Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can’t admit it. You just can’t admit that you’re wrong, you little butthead.”

Suddenly, a figure jumps down from another rock. You startle, stepping back and letting out a breath when you recognize the man now standing beside you. “I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”

“Jesus, we thought you were a goner.” Dustin says through a sigh of relief, coming in for a hug that takes Eddie a moment to reciprocate.

“Yeah, me too, man.” He pats the boys back with a heavy hand. “Me too.”

It’s not until they separate that you get a good look at Eddie, a radio strapped across his body, his shoes worse for wear. Out of everything, it’s his eyes that strike you. He looks beaten but somehow he still manages to be so expressive. Deep brown eyes that you’ve seen riddled with fear, tears, and humor now hazy with exhaustion.

When he looks at you, the bitter emotions from the day seem to melt away, replaced by a comforting warmth. “You didn’t die.”

He offers a soft smile, one that makes his eyes look exactly how Robin described. Pretty brown doe eyes, even now. “You didn’t stay safe.”

A smile of your own grows on your face. “I really hate to break it to you, but I don’t think safety is in the cards anymore, Ed.”

“Oh, come on, Princess.” He tilts his head, extending an arm towards the boulders. “This place doesn’t look safe to you?”

You let him lead you towards the small space underneath the stacked rocks. “It’s a bit…rough.”

“I think you mean rugged. It’s an authentic man cave.” He leans against one side, long hair curtaining his face until he punches it back. “I’m thinking about getting cable. Watching a little late night television under the stars, that’d be cool. The rent here? You wouldn’t believe how low it is. A steal, really.”

Now you’re grinning, leaning against the wall opposite of him and crossing your arms. “Most places you’d have to pay an arm and a leg for a view like this.”

“Does my humble abode get your stamp of approval?” He mirrors you, crossing his arms with a brighter smile.

“It might be winning me over.” You survey the place, overlooking the litter and spots of random graffiti. “I think it could grow on me.”

“Tell you what,” He nods towards the ground between you. “I’ll set up a place for you to spend the night. You can’t have my bed, though. I paid out of my ass for the leaf mattress.”

For the first time in what feels like ever, you laugh- a good, real laugh. It lifts the weight off of your chest and makes breathing a bit easier. It’s nice to smile again, to feel something pleasant after a few days of unbridled chaos. So while everyone else catches their breath, you and Eddie stand comfortable basking in the feeling.

“I guess I should update everybody, huh?” He sighs after a while. “Unless, you’ve got some good news for me?”

You give him an apologetic look, and he lets out another sigh. He reaches up, ruffling your hair with a hand before stepping forward, as if taking center stage, the others becoming his audience.

“Where to begin?” He claps his hands together, lowering to the ground. “How about when Jason Carver and his minions decided to pay me a visit? They broke into Rick’s place and I knew it was a matter of time, so I took the boat. I almost got away from there with the damn paddle, but I guess they figured it out because next thing I know, I’m fighting for my life with the fucking motor.”

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head at the memory. Dustin pulls a metal water bottle from his bag, passing it to Eddie. “The idiots jumped into the fucking water, and I’m paddling for my life because the goddamned motor won’t start. Then-” He takes a deep breath, his eyes tightly shut. “Then McKinney was in the air- just like…just like Chrissy. I fell out of the boat and swam like hell. When I got to shore, I tried to call you guys, but uh…”

He unscrews the lid, tilting his head back to drink before continuing. “My walkie was busted, man. Drenched. So, uh, I did the thing that I do now, apparently. I ran.” He drops it on the ground, clasping his hands together with a pained smile.

“Do you know what time this was? The attack?” Nancy asks.

He nods, reaching for his wrist and unstrapping his watch.“Yeah, no. I know exactly what time it was. My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”

Nancy catches it when he tosses it at her and she checks the frozen face. “Nine twenty-seven.”

Robin puts two and two together without skipping a beat. “Same time our flashlights went kablooey.”

“Which means what, exactly?” Steve asks.

“That the surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.” You answer, pushing off of the wall to stand beside Eddie where he still crouches low on the ground.

“We’ll, we’re one step closer.” Robin says with an optimism you wish you had. “We know how Vecna attacks.”

“And we know where he attacks from.” Lucas chimes in.

“So, now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down. And drive a stake through his heart.” Max seems to share Robin’s optimism with a twisted sort of view much more to your level.

“If he even has a heart.” She rebuttals.

“A stake? Is he like a vamp-” A look of almost shocked awe takes over Steve’s face. “Is he a vampire?”

“It was a metaphor.” Max says with a tone so obviously exasperated that it makes you crack another smile.

“A bullet should work on him, right?” Eddie pipes in, and you bump your leg against him, dropping your hand to pat his shoulder.

“I like your thinking, Munson.”

Lucas seems to disagree, offering his own opinion with a straight face only an angsty teenager could muster. “I say we chop his head off.”

Nancy nods. “I say all of the above, but we can’t do any of that until we find a way into the upside down.”

“We need El to get her powers back.” Max says, frustrated.

“Everything was way easier.” Steve says, as his eyes move to you and Eddie. “We had this girl. She had superpowers-”

Eddie nods, but his attention isn’t on Steve, rather on the boy pacing around on the edge of the clearing. “Superpowers. Yeah, you mentioned her. Hey uh, Henderson’s not cursed, is he?”

“Cursed? No, no. He’s fine.” Steve looks over at him. “Mental? Absolutely.”

“Boom!” Everybody turns, looking at Dustin as if he’s lost his mind entirely. But the kid is indifferent to it- quickly pointing a single prideful finger at Steve. “Bada-bada, boom. I was right. Skull Rock was north.”

“Seriously?” Steve huffs. “You’re serious?”

“Mhm.” Dustin nods.

Steve throws his hands up. “This is Skull Rock, okay? You’re totally, absolutely, one hundred percent wrong. Right now.”

“Yes.” Dustin agrees, and you resist the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose like an overwhelmed grandmother. “And no.”

While Steve goes insane, Dustin begins to explain, raising his compass for everyone to see.

“This worked correctly when we left the Wheelers. It was correct when we got in the car on Kerley, but it started to slip the further east we went. Now, it’s way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn’t wrong. The compass was.”

“So you’re using faulty equipment- you’re still wrong.” Steve argues.

“Except it isn’t faulty.” Dustin turns. “Lucas, do you remember what can affect a compass?”

Lucas answers without hesitation, his expression turning to understanding- excitement even. “An electromagnetic field.”

“Yup.” Dustin says, presenting it with open arms as if everyone’s now on board.

Robin gives them a look. “Sorry, I must’ve skipped that class.”

“In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power. So either there’s some super big magnet around here or-”

“There’s a gate.” You finish, eyes widening.

Nancy shakes her head, with furrowed brows. “But we’re nowhere near the lab?”

Dustin answers quickly. “But what if, somehow, there’s another gate? A gate that we don’t know about. It’d have to be smaller, way less powerful.”

“Snack size gate.” Robin says.

Steve seems to abhor the thought of another gate. “How? Why?”

Dustin shrugs. “No idea. All I know is that something is causing this disturbance. And the last time we’ve seen anything like it, it was a gate. And I hope it is, because then we’d have a way to Vecna. And a shot at freeing Max from this curse.”

He doesn’t wait for the information to settle before turning around and walking the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” Steve calls out to him until he stops. “Eddie’s still a wanted man. We can’t just go for a hike in the woods.”

“This little steel capsule might be the key to saving both Max and Eddie.” Dustin says. “What do you say, Eddie the Banished?”

All eyes fall on Eddie.

“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor. Which, if I’m totally straight with you, I think it’s a really bad idea.” He says. “But, uh. The Shire…The Shire is burning.”

He pushes off his knees and stands, taking a deep breath before nodding.

“So, Mordor it is.”

====

Running through the woods is not what you expected to be doing in the dark. Though, to be honest, you hadn’t known exactly what you’d be doing. The scale of normalcy for the week has a wide range from sleeping on a basement floor to escaping an asylum.

The shoes you wear hold up well enough, but you wish you had traded them for a better pair when you nearly roll your ankle. Somehow, you manage to keep up with Eddie, following his trail as he chases after Dustin and the compass.

Behind you the rest of the group moves, closely following in an attempt not to lose each other in the shadows and wall of trees.

Dustin eventually slows down to check the compass, just outside of the treeline. “Something’s happening.”

“Dustin? Can you slow down? Dustin?” Eddie asks out of breath.

“I think we’re getting close.” He answers, still looking down at the capsule.

The kid nearly runs straight into the water, but Eddie grabs ahold of his shoulders and stops him just in time. “Watch your step, big guy.”

“Oh, man.” Steve says through labored breaths. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“Yeah.” Eddie says, looking out into the open water of the lake. “I thought these woods were familiar.”

“Lover’s Lake.” Robin nods.

Dustin stares ahead. “This is confounding.”

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max asks.

“Whenever the demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening.” Nancy says. “Maybe Vecna’s the same way?”

Steve lets out a slow breath. “Yeah, only one way to find out.”

“Come on.” Eddie groans, tugging the sleeve of your shirt to get your attention before walking away from the group, an obvious destination in mind. “I hope you don’t mind, Honey, but I think it’ll come in handy.”

He reaches a dark mass on the edge of the water several yards from where you had exited the woods. Then, with one quick motion, he pulls a tarp off a very familiar object.

“Is that my boat?”

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“I could kiss you-”

A loud sound from behind you and Steve moves to stand between you and Eddie, reaching for the metal ridge. “Alright, that’s enough flirting. Somebody grab the other side.”

You step back, letting Steve and Eddie move the boat further into the water, bickering as they lower it too fast, making you cringe with the sound it makes against the shallow bank. The two of them stay kneeled on the shore, holding the boat steady.

“Did you really have to throw my water bottle?” Dustin complains.

“It slipped out of my hands.” Steve huffs, offering Robin a hand that she ignores, unsteadly planting her hands on both of the guys heads to balance as she climbs in.

Eddie steps in behind her, immediately turning to help Nancy in. When he helps you in, you nearly slip on a spot of water, but he manages to catch you with an arm across your torso.

“All good?” He asks, keeping his arm around you until Steve manages to steady the rocking of the boat. “Maybe take a seat before we all flip over?”

“Good idea.” You sit on the floor of the boat, unbothered by the bit of water now soaking into your jeans.

You, Nancy, and Robin get situated- moments before you can take off, Eddie stops Dustin from climbing into the boat.

“Hey, hey, hey- you trying to sink us? This thing holds four people, tops, okay?”

“It’s better this way.” Nancy says, but her eyes don’t stay only on Dustin- she speaks to both him and Steve. “You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

Every part of you wants nothing more than to push her out of the boat.

“You keep an eye out.” Dustin says, appalled by the idea entirely. “It’s my goddamn theory.”

“You heard Nance.” Robin says.

“Who put her in charge?”

“I did.” She responds.

Nancy sticks out her hand. “Compass?”

Dustin groans, but hands it over. She holds it tightly in her palm, sitting down on the back bench, across from Eddie and Robin.

“Hey.” Steve stands and tosses Dustin’s bag back at him. “Here you go.” Then, in one action, he kicks off of the shore and steps into the boat.

“You said four!” Dustin protests.

“Sorry…” Steve whispers and gives him an apologetic gesture.

To rub salt in the wound, Robin waves and speaks just loud enough to carry her voice across the stretch of water you’ve already crossed in the few seconds. “Bedtimes at nine, kiddos. Miss you already!”

Soon, the distance is far enough that you can no longer make out their faces- and eventually them all together. Eddie and Robin use the paddles, steering the boat in the right direction, following the compass that Nancy holds.

“My shoes are getting wet.” Robin whines, shuffling her foot in the half inch of water.

“My ass is wet.” You complain. “Seriously, we should have emptied the boat before getting in.”

“Will you two-” Nancy stops. “Whoa- whoa, whoa, whoa- slow down. Slow down guys.”

They drop the ores, and Steve shines the flashlight on the compass, everyone leans in to watch the needle spin erratically. Not two seconds later, the radio goes off.

“Guys, what’s going on?” Dustin’s voice comes in. “Come on guys, talk to me, what’s going on?”

Robin picks it up. “Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ahh.”

Steve wastes no time, his shoes already coming off, followed by his socks. You have to press your back against Eddie to give him the room not to kick you on accident.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asks.

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out.” He says. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then it's gotta be me. No complaints, all right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Hey, I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.”

You reach for a trashbag, emptying the few cans from inside to wrap it around the flashlight, hopefully sealing it away from water damage. When you look up, you take a sharp breath- not having expected Steve to be face to face with Steve Harrington’s bare chest.

“Hey, good luck.” You manage to say after forcing your gaze upward, speaking directly to him for the first time in hours.

He takes it, his eyes holding yours as he stands at the back of the small boat. “Thanks.”

“Steve?” Nancy says his name, and you bite your tongue. “Be careful.”

It's natural to assume he’d respond, but instead some unwarranted feeling of pride fills your chest when he doesn’t. But it’s quickly overshadowed by nervousness when he jumps, diving into the dark water- the glow of the flashlight dimming the further he goes.

The silence remains once he’s gone. Not one of you is willing to break it with conversation. Time seems to stretch on forever, the seconds you count become too many, until Robin asks the time and Nancy responds with the fact it’s only coming onto a minute.

Ten, twenty, almost another half minute goes bye. You open your mouth to ask the time, but are quickly shut up when the water bursts and Steve appears from the depths. The boat rocks and you lean over the edge to see him treading on the surface.

“I found it.” He says, much more calm than you’d expect someone who’d found a portal to some demented world.

“You found it?”

“I found it. Yeah, I found it.” He swims to the edge of the boat, reaching to hold onto the metal.

Robin raises the radio. “Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate.”

“It’s pretty wild.” Steve says, catching his breath. “It’s more of a snack-sized gate than a mama gate, but still. It’s pretty damn big.”

He begins to laugh, his high shinning and his lips twitching upwards but suddenly he's jerked down. You gasp, leaning so far over the edge you might tip the boat, and he’s still there, perfectly fine. He looks up, as confused as you are, and before you can ask what that was- he’s gone.

This time you do scream- the four of you scream his name, begging him to come back up- freaking out in various degrees.

“Shit.” You push yourself to your feet, shaking your hands out. “Fuck, okay.”

You step on the bench with one foot- only to hand Eddie grab your wrist and stop you. “Wait, wait, wait- You’re not going in there, are you?”

“Just wait here.” You pull your arm away, taking in a lung full of air.

The last thing you hear before diving underwater is three frantic voices yelling your name.

[djosfavewig]

DRAMAAAAAAAA. I LIVE FOR THIS. EHEHEHEHEEEEEEE

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: More filler/background content while the story advances- it’ll come back to haunt us. Also, It’s so difficult to keep a slow burn when all I want to do is go full throttle :’) But it’ll happen just you wait…>:) (Tagging @djosfavewig because I can<3)

Currently Reading: Part Six

Masterlist

The back of Nancy’s car is spacious, but it’s not meant for three people to be shoved into. While Nancy and Robin are in the front seats, Max and Lucas have taken the second row. Which leaves the back for you, Dustin, and Steve to fit into.

With the lack of seats or legroom, you are against the left side window, your legs tucked underneath yourself. Dustin is against the right side, his bag in his lap. Steve sits between you both. And while everyone else is talking loudly, all you can do is think about how his thigh is pressed against yours, and he has to balance on one arm- which is behind your back, his hand inches from where you’re seated.

When Nancy parks the car outside of the Creel house and Steve turns around to let the three of you out of the back- that’s when you can finally take a full breath.

Everyone files out of the car, eyes landing on the abandoned building sitting in on an overgrown lawn. You stare up at the boarded door, the same one you’ve seen your entire life- remembering how for many years you and your friends called it haunted while you played back and forth on the street. How you dared each other to run up the steps and touch the plywood where the door would be, a test of youthful bravery.

“Yeah, that’s not creepy.” Steve says when everyone pauses to check out the building,

“I kinda think it’s charming.” You reply, tilting your head slightly as you squint. “A fresh coat of paint and a little work could save this place.”

“Seriously,” Steve shakes his head. “It looks like a playground for infectious disease. I mean, we could probably get tetanus if we breathe the wrong way.”

“It’s old, not condemned.” You roll your eyes and begin to walk up the walkway before about one else decides to follow.

“I’m pretty sure the boards mean it’s condemned.” Steve says from behind, before quickly matching your stride and climbing up the front steps with you.

Before he’s reached the top, Steve produces a hammer. You and the others stand close as he rips the nails out of the boards blocking the front door, Nancy taking the other side before you can find the second hammer.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve huffs partway through his side of the door.

“I’m not exactly sure. We just know this house is important to Vecna.” Nancy shrugs, nails clicking against the porch as they fall.

He rips more nails from the board. “Because Max saw it in Vecna’s red-soup mind world?”

“Basically.”

“Great.” Steve pulls the last nail, then extends his arm back, letting you take the hammer from his hand, his eyes following you as you drop the tool through your belt loop.

Dustin’s voice is less animated than usual, the exhaustion evident in even the most energetic of the group. “Maybe it holds a clue to where Vecna is. Why he’s back, why he killed the Creels- and how to stop him before he comes back for Max.”

“We don’t think he’s in here…” Lucas says, almost hesitating with his words. “Do we?”

Max is the one to answer, her voice more strained than anyone else’s. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The group falls quiet, and Steve nods to Nancy, the both of them stepping to the side and moving quickly away to let the board fall away from the door. The sound is loud and chills your blood- especially when the stained glass window of the door is exposed.

“It’s locked.” Steve tries the handle, then lets out an almost inaudible snort. “Should I, like, see if anybody's home?”

“No need.” Robin speaks from The edge of the porch, a faint grin on her face as she raises an old red brick. “I found a key.”

“You want to break it?” You frown, your fingers reaching up to touch the stained glass, tracing the soldered lines.

“How else will we get inside?” Robin says with raised ‘obviously’ eyebrows, walking up to hand the heavy object to Steve.

“Look-” He takes the brick, weighing it in his hand as he gently pushes you out of the way. “I’ll buy you a new door. Brand new, no cobwebs or termites. Pretty glass.”

“Isn’t it a rule to protect antiques?” You stand back, trying not to be too upset about the loss of something so carefully made.

Steve tosses the brick through the glass, the sound of it shattering into pieces and scattering onto the floor only makes you frown deeper. “I think we can do without this creepy ass one.” He reaches into the broken window, his hand skating against the other side of the door until he finds the handle and twists it.

As the door swings open, dust flies out. The air is disrupted by the sudden current, light filtering into the house in a haze. Carefully, everyone walks inside, taking in the dark entrance. The layer of dust over every object, the sound of creaking floorboards, the smell of stale air.

“Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” Lucas says flatly after testing the nearest lamp.

Dustin raises a flashlight and flicks it on, offering enough light to shine on the ceiling you couldn’t quite see clearly till now.

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asks, expression mixed between confused and annoyed when he asks.

“Do you need to be told everything? You’re not a child.” Dustin waits a beat, earning no further reaction from Steve than a sarcastic thank you, then shrugs off his bag and passes it to Steve. “Back pocket.”

Steve rummages for the extra flashlight, dropping the bag onto the floor once he finds it and turns it on. You walk beside him further into the house, looking closely at the belongings left behind from so long ago. Nancy and Robin stand in the doorway of a sitting room, Dustin and Lucas look at the wall hangings, while you and Steve study the ancient staircase.

“Hey guys?” Max speaks from behind you, and when you turn you nearly gasp. “You all see that, right?”

Everyone confirms her question, and Nancy asks another. “Is this what you saw? In your visions?”

There stands a tall grandfather clock, looming over each of you, wood covered in dust and glass no longer clear.

“I mean, it’s just a clock, right?” Robin steps closer, using her hand to wipe away the grime on the glass face. “Like a normal old clock?”

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve shakes his head slightly in disbelief, staring up at it. “Maybe he’s like a…clockmaker or something?”

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin answers dryly.

“All I know is, the answers are here…somewhere.” Nancy says. “Okay, everyone stays in groups of two- Robin, upstairs.”

Robin nods and the two of them hurry upstairs together. Max and Lucas break into a pair towards the front of the house, leaving you with the last two bickering boys. For a few moments, you watch as they stare each other down- finally ending with Steve letting out a heavy breath and walking around Dustin.

“Was that a sigh?” Dustin asks, the pitch of his voice expressing insult.

“No, I did not sigh.”

Dustin follows him up the stairs, still pressing for an answer. “Why’d you sigh?”

“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“Well, we’re just always partners. Okay?”

“What? You have a problem with that?”

“It’d just be nice to…” Steve waves a hand, exasperated. “I don’t know? Mix it up a bit.”

“So what? I’m boring to you. Is that it?”

“No. The opposite-”

“I’m too much?”

“Both of you are too much.” You mutter, following them up the stairs.

The two continue to bicker as you enter the first room. Squinting into the darkness, you try to find anything of significance- but only end up examining the same patterns of dust and cobwebs that cover every surface. Despite the amount of time that the house has been left abandoned, everything seems to be in good condition. A few antique lamps, furniture, and artwork sit in their respective places.

“Hey, Henderson?” Steve asks as the three of you step through one of the doors connecting to an old restroom.

“Yeah?”

Steve’s flashlight sweeps across the room with a slow motion. “Could you maybe clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“The world is full of obvious things.” The accent Dustin puts on makes your lips twitch with a smile. “Which nobody by any chance ever observes.”

A short beat of silence, you manage to contain your bit of laughter at the confusion clouding Steve’s face long enough to speak. “It’s Sherlock Holmes.”

“That’s great.” He says flatly, shaking his head as Dustin walks off. “Thanks, that’s great. Really helpful.”

Lingering in the bathroom, you begin to sift through the drawers. The contents are sparse, a few towels of varying sizes. Sewing supplies, buttons. Bars of unused soap, cleaning supplies.

A loud creak of metal has you turning. Steve is crouching on the other end of the bathroom with his back towards you, his flashlight directed to the floor in front of him. You move close, leaning over his right shoulder to watch as he reaches into a vent.

“Are you sure that’s safe?”

Pulling out a glass jar, he shrugs. Nope.”

Inside the container are a few sticks, and a dead spider. The same type of terrarium that a child would make for bugs. But you’ve never hidden your little projects in the bathroom floor.

Suddenly, Steve jolts. You jump backwards, the glass jar shatters on the floor and Steve rushes out of the room, frantically brushing his hands across his shoulders and torso as if somethings clinging to him.

Nancy appears out of a nearby room, as confused as you are. “What’s wrong?”

“There was a spider.” He attempts to catch his breath. “It was a black widow.”

He turns back towards the bathroom, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out before shutting the door. “Don’t go in there.”

Nancy frowns, then looks at the back of Steve’s head with a wince. “Oh. Wait, just-”

“What? Is something?” He moves forward to check himself in a mirror.

“Stop moving.” She tells him, reaching to pluck strands of cobwebs from his hair. “I’ve got it.”

Robin steps into the hallway. “If there’s a spider nesting in there, you’re never gonna find it until it lays eggs and all the babies spill out.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Steve glares at his friend as she laughs and walks past, gesturing for you to follow. “Robin, seriously.”

Together, you and Robin move, leaving the two alone to their awkward interactions. You can hear Dustin in the next room, his flashlight shining through the open door as he searches for clues.

Staying close by, you enter a room that is just light enough to see, sun filtering in through a missing plank covering the window. You step around the furniture, avoiding broken floorboards and bundles of more webs. The room itself is like all the rest- except for one very specific object.

A memory of your father is called to mind as you reach up and rub the dust off of the cover of an old book- left with a crocheted bookmark as if someone had been in the middle of reading. Upon closer inspection, you realize that you recognize the cover. Your parents had gifted you books like this one before.

Little Women…Moby Dick…

Your fingers brush against the gilded spine of the book, careful not to scratch away the painted gold letters or small image of a ship. Robin's voice comes from the end of the hall, and it’s quickly followed by both girls stepping into the room, complaining about a lack of evidence.

Nancy catches sight of you, or rather of what you’re looking at. She moves closer and her eyes light up as she recognizes the book.

“The Odyssey?” She shines her flashlight over it, reaching to flip to the title page. There is a name written on it, though the ink has become too distorted to read. “That looks like mine. Except, in my copy, this page is torn.”

Your eyes snap up. “Torn?”

She nods. “I borrowed it from Barb. I guess she found it at an old-”

“That was my copy.”

“Your copy?” Her eyes meet yours. “Are you sure? I mean The Odyssey is a popular book.”

“I lent mine to Barb the week that-” Your voice falters and you step back, as if distancing yourself from the rest of your sentence. “The title page was torn before it came to me. It’s in the top corner, right?”

Nancy frowns. “I didn’t know it was yours.”

“She wanted to read it for an assignment, the library was out of copies.” You point to the book, where Nancy still has her hands on it. “She never- fuck. She never got to finish it, did she?”

It’s a futile thing, the swarm of emotions building inside of you. She’s been gone for years, you’ve made your peace with her loss- but this? The ache of grief was pulled back to the surface when they had told you Barb was the first casualty in this otherworldly string of death. You had felt it, forced it to the back of your mind, and continued. But now the unrest has taken new form, your eyes burn hot with welling tears, anger battling the sadness as you try to take steady breaths to ease your mind. To calm yourself.

“I…” Nancy closes the book, her eyes moving between you and the other side of the room, where Steve stands. “I planned to give it back, when we went to the Harrington’s house that night-”

A chill runs down your spine. “That night? What were you doing at the Harrington’s? She said that you were studying. She rainchecked plans we made because you were studying.”

“Hey-” Steve’s hand rests on your back as he says your name, but you step away from him, cutting your eyes between the two. “We were kids-”

“The last time I saw Barb was at school. We didn’t even get five minutes together, because she wanted to check on you, Nancy.” You struggle to keep your tone even. “I didn’t even get to hug her goodbye.”

“We didn’t know that she'd disappear.” She says, now focused on you. “It was just a party. We were together the entire time. I told her to go home without me-”

“Without you?”

“She drove us there, but she wasn’t having fun and I wasn’t ready to leave-” Her eyes flicker back to Steve, and he lowers his gaze. “She was supposed to go home. Safe.”

“You left her alone?” You laugh bitterly, feeling like the walls are caving in as the story you had believed about her disappearance crumbles to dust. “So, you could do what? Get drunk and fuck him? Barb was always trying to make sure you were alright, she felt responsible for your well being, and you let her go out alone? Will had already gone missing, someone else had been killed- and you thought that Barb being alone was okay?”

Nancy’s expression only furthers your confidence in the accusations.

You let out a sound, unable to articulate the fury that aggravates your heart. “Keep the fucking book.”

The back of your head burns with multiple sets of eyes watching you leave. Home is only a short walk away, you could be in bed in a matter of minutes. but you can’t leave. You feel embarrassed over your outburst, but it’s nothing compared the the betrayal that stings you. Betrayal from not just Steve or Nancy- but Barb. You don’t allow yourself to think further about it, moving down the stairs to avoid the others while you cool off.

What you can’t ignore, is the lamp that illuminates suddenly. You freeze at the bottom step, eyes on the warm glow that slowly rises and falls with power. Before you can question how, Max and Lucas walk into the foyer, towards the lamp.

Then it flickers off.

Slowly, you move down the rest of the way to watch the light move to the ceiling, then the sconce on the wall, another lamp- another ceiling light.

In a matter of moments the entire team is standing in the dining room, having followed the lights through the house after Lucas has called for them. The chandelier hums and surges, the light becoming brighter and dimmer almost in time with a heartbeat. It hasn’t moved since appearing here, the light remaining still above the table.

“It’s like the Christmas lights.” Nancy says.

Robin frowns, asking the same question you have. “The Christmas lights?”

“When Will was in the Upside Down, the lights…” She hesitates. “Came to life.”

“Vecna’s here, in this house.” Lucas says, looking up at the light. “Just, on the other side.”

And then it’s gone, it fades and the humming quiets to silence, leaving the room with a cold tension hanging in the air. “I think he just left the room.” Robin says.

Max frowns. “Did he hear us?”

“Can he see us?” Steve asks, his eyes moving to you when he does, but you refuse to meet his gaze- a sickening weight still crushing your chest.

“Headphones.” Lucas whispers to Max, who quickly starts her music back up, the soft sound of Kate Bush’s voice playing.

“Everyone, turn off your flashlights and spread out.” Nancy flicks hers off, then rushes away, starting the search for another trace of Vecna.

You stick with Dustin, following him because you hadn’t had a flashlight to begin with. You move room to room, watching for any sign of a flicker, wherever it may come from. Within minutes Robin shouts from another room and you rush to meet her, arriving just in time to see her flashlight dim.

“I had him.” She says, lowering it and turning- at the same time that Steve’s flashlight begins to glow.

“Whoa-” He lifts his flashlight, stepping forward as if balancing the glow. “I think he’s moving. He’s moving- he’s moving!”

Everyone follows behind him, following the light out of the room and up the stairs, it grows stronger and stronger with each step- until it dies.

“Shit. I lost him.”

“No, you didn’t.” Max walks past him, crosses the landing to open a door you hadn't noticed. A small set of stairs, big enough for only one person at a time to climb. Light glows from the top of the stairwell, pulsing like the rest had.

Slowly, everyone steps through the door- a single file line that moves up the narrow steps. Your hands tremble slightly when you brace yourself against the wall, your footsteps slow and careful, your breathing shallow to avoid inhaling too much dust. You follow behind Robin, her nervousness bleeding into your own.

“It’s an attic. Of course it’s an attic.” She says, weary as she climbs.

Dustin hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, unwilling to follow blindly, his head poked through the doorway. “Hold up, guys. What if he’s leading us into a trap? Guys? Guys.” A string of curses follows and he finally begins to climb up once you’ve reached the open space at the top.

There, in the center of a dark and nearly empty attic, a single lightbulb hangs from the rafters. It hums so loudly that you fear it might spark a flame. Everyone crowds around it, looking up at the light.

“Flashlights.” Dustin says, the one in his hand beginning to glow.

Each person lifts their flashlight, every single one now shining with the same strength as the lightbulb overhead.

Bright and steady.

Until they explode.

[djosfavewig]

ME EVERY TIME @blackcorvette UPDATES

Me, not wanting to move, trying to live another day, deal with responsibilities, tired of reality:

Also me receiving a new notification a fanfic I read updated:

[djosfavewig]

MY BESTIE IS BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER!!! I’M GIGGLING! SHE HAS PUT SO MUCH TIME AND EFFORT INTO THIS!! BEYOND PROUD OF HER!!!

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Hello again, welcome back to this humble little- whatever. Week five is here, and I just spent the weekend writing nonstop for this fic- there is much much more waiting for you guys in the future :) Special thanks to my bestie, @djosfavewig who will always be the first to know what happens, before it even does. Now, let’s read.

Currently Reading: Part Five

Masterlist

It starts with Nancy, she begins the story from where it starts. Retelling what you had learned from Steve and the kids, only this time with more attention to details that you hadn’t heard before, it’s only a summarized version, but it’s enough to give you a better idea- and enough for Victor to form his own view.

Then, when she finishes, you take over, from the point that you’ve been present. You tell Victor about Chrissy, letting Nancy speak about Fred, then you come back to tell him about Eddie running, how you found him. You tell him about searching for evidence, the school therapists office, then Max’s experience.

“When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance.” You recall what Eddie had said about what he had witnessed in the trailer, trying to remember what you had read from the papers as well. “Like a waking nightmare. What’s why we think he’s coming for her next. Does any of this, anything we’ve told you, sound like what happened to your family?”

“Victor?” Nancy prompts when he’s quiet too long. “I know this is hard-”

“You don’t know anything!” He yells and the echo of it rings, it continues in your mind even when it’s gone.

“You’re right.” You say, keeping your voice quiet, soft, trying to ease his nerves even as you struggle to maintain your own. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To learn, to understand.”

“We need to know how you survived that night.” Robin says.

He lets out a laugh that sounds more terrifying than humorous. “Survived? Is that what you call this? Did I survive? No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”

When he speaks, he reminisces. Its slow, a memory coming to mind that’s not too far gone, one that he thinks of often, maybe even always. A soft smile forms on his lips, out of place with the scars, but whist full.

“I had been back from the war, some fourteen years. Her great uncle had died, leaving us a small fortune. Enough to buy a new home.” He says. “A new life. It was…a magnificent home. Alice said it looked like it was from a fairy tale.”

“Alice? Was this your daughter?” You ask him, hoping that he doesn’t take it as a hostile sign.

“Mhm, yeah.” He nods, and his smile falters as he continues, a happy memory tainted. “But Henry, my…my boy, he was a sensitive child. And I could see he felt something was wrong. We had one month of peace in that house. And then it began. Dead animals. Mutilated, tortured, began to appear near our home. Rabbits, squirrels, chickens, even dogs. The police chief blamed the attacks on a wildcat. This, this was no wild cat. This was an evil. And evil neither animal nor human. This was a spawn of Satan- A demon. And it was even closer than I realized.”

“My family began to have encounters, conjured by this demon. Nightmares. Walking, living nightmares.” The way he reuses your phrase, it solidifies your belief in him, in the evil you’ve become entangled with, the evil you are now attempting to fight. “This demon, it seemed to take pleasure in tormenting us. Even poor, innocent Alice. It wasn’t long before I began to have encounters of my own. I suppose, all evil must have a home. And though I had not a rational explanation for it, I…I could sense this demon. Always close. I became convinced it was hiding, nesting, somewhere within the shadows of our home. It had cursed our town. It had cursed our home. It had cursed us.”

He drops down onto his cot, defeated.

“It took Virginia first. I tried to get the children out- to save them. But…I was back to France. Back in the war. It was a memory, I had thought German soldiers were inside. I ordered its shelling. I was wrong. This demon, it was taunting me, and I was sure it would take me, just as he’d taken my Virginia. But then- I heard another voice.”

He removes his hands from where he had been covering his ears to shield himself from the dark parts of his memory. “At first, I believed it was an angel. And then I followed her. Only to find myself in a nightmare far worse. While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later he died.”

The crying starts, and it’s horrible, bad enough you have to tighten your fists and dig your nails into your already bruised palms.

“I tried to join them. I tried. Hatch stopped the bleeding. He wouldn’t let me join them!” He’s sobbing now, curled into his cot with his head against the striped pillow.

“The angel you followed…” You ask, though he might be too far gone. “Who was she?”

He doesn’t answer, confirming your suspicions by humming a song, rocking back and forth in the cot in a way that only the most broken man would. Nancy seems not to realize, attempting to try again, calling his name several times louder each- until the cell door at the end of the hall slams open and makes you all jump.

“Is he everything you hoped he would be?” Dr. Hatch yells down the tunnel, in a sinister voice that tells you he’s found out everything you tried to hide in order to get here. “I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley. Perhaps we should discuss it in my office, while we wait for the police.”

Security removes you, forcing the three of you out of the cell while Dr. Hatch yells, storming ahead to lead you back out of the cells and through the asylum.

Nancy begins to spill everything, about Eddie, Max, and every little detail that her mind can pull up and spit out- and if you weren’t in your own head trying to organize your plan to escape- you would be telling her to shut the fuck up.

They take you through the building and back into the listening room- where your eyes linger on the patients listening to music.

Debussy.

Etta James.

Elvis.

Brenda Lee.

Beethoven.

They shove you out of the room, Robin yells at the guard who had physically pushed her, and you follow quickly. As soon as you’re out of the doors, into the grounds of the inner courtyards and gardens, she pulls you and Nancy close.

“Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house.” She whispers in a hurried manner, eyes darting up to make sure the guards and Hutch don’t hear. “But he made specific mention of music. He said music was playing- and then when we asked him about the Angel? He started to hum-‘Say nighty-night and kiss me, Hold me tight and tell me you miss me-‘”

“Dream a Little Dream of Me.” You remember the title of the song immediately, having listened to it growing up, the radio always on at home as a child. “Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Voice of an Angel.” Nancy says.

“Yeah.” Robin nods, glad that everyone follows her line of thought.

“Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t.” You say, walking briskly beside them, eyes scanning the grounds of the asylum, counting staff members and patients.

Robin nods again, her voice raising slightly, but not enough to alarm the guards. “So maybe that’s the key. A lifeline.”

“A lifeline back to reality.” Nancy mutters.

“It’s worth a shot.” Robin says.

Carefully, you look over your shoulder, at the guards. There are maybe two yards behind, they leave a gap large enough to take a few minutes to close if you run at the right time. They could get you, but only if they expect it and predict your movements beforehand.

“I think we can beat him.” You whisper.

“What?” Robin gives you a concerned look.

“To the car.” You say, ignoring the look Nancy shoots you.

“Okay, I’m warning you right now. I have terrible coordination.” Robin stresses. “Like, it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies-”

“Just follow my lead.”

Before she can object, you sprint. You can hear her yelling, but she and Nancy fall right into step beside you- the guard quickly realizing and chasing behind them.

The grass is soft, but the ground beneath is firm enough to keep you from tripping. The patients watch with wide eyes, the staff slowly clueing in and rushing forward to catch you. But you run, as fast as you can, as far as you can and then further. Your sides burn, your lungs acting fast in the sudden burst of adrenaline- your heart doubling its natural rate, but you keep going until you’ve lost your shoes and run through the open gates.

The car is unlocked, and you silently thank God that Nancy hadn’t locked the doors before the meeting. The three of you climb in, and are almost immediately met with pounding fists on the windows. Nancy starts the car quickly, Robin yells, and you curse as you scramble for the radio that a familiar noise comes in and out. Static and Dustin’s frantic voice.

“Robin where the hell are you? This is a code red! I repeat, a code red!”

Finally finding it, you extend the antenna and press the button. “Dustin- It’s me. We copy.”

“Holy shit, finally!” His voice filters in immediately. “Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out.”

“What’s happening?” You have to yell over him, hoping he’d listen. “Dustin tell me what the hell is happening right now.”

“He’s got her- She’s- fuck.” The desperation in his voice hurts and you can’t do anything but talk. “What do we do? Tell me you found out something before-”

“Music.” You tell him.

“What? We need-”

“I can’t explain it now. Music, Dustin. Her favorite song, okay? Something that she loves that has meaning!” You speak as fast as you can, Robin yelling for Nancy to drive faster and your heart racing. “Just do it, okay! Her headphones. Get them and play a fucking song.”

“Okay.” He sounds stricken, and the line falls into static, a sign you hope means he’s doing what you hope will save her.

“Is she okay?” Robin asks frantically. “She has to be okay, right? The music? Fuck the music has to work- if it doesn’t-”

“It’ll work.” You tell her, louder than you meant to be but you can’t handle it, not while you have no clue what is happening or where they are. “It will work.”

It might take minutes, hours or maybe only seconds. All you know is that you can’t ease the tension in your body, you’re sitting up, knee bouncing, and staring out the window. Your hands are clutching the radio waiting for a signal. Nancy speeds away from the asylum, and eventually finds a rural road to start heading back home. Robin is chattering nervously, her hands tapping against her legs. None of you attempt to comfort each other, because there is no comfort to give.

Between the three of you, the car is overwhelmed with anxiety and anticipation. Not a single one of you knows that to do or say, and once Robin no longer has breath…It's silent.

The noise of the road is loud in your ears, mingling with the memory of Victor’s humming, the tune of his song stuck in your head like a spinning record, broken, repeating the same segment.

One, two, four clicks later- still no answer from Dustin. Not a single second of static from his end, not a yell, or a cry.

Nothing.

It will work. It has to work.

Even when Robin takes the radio, attempting to call for a response herself, you sit there waiting and listening. All you need is a voice. Dustin, Max, Steve. You need someone to tell you is she alright or is she…is she alright?

No answers. Not the first or the fifth time she tries. And then Nancy takes it, one hand on the wheel while the other holds the radio. No answers for her either.

Eventually, the radio is set on the dash, sitting in the sunlight as you speed down the road toward Hawkins. You count the street signs, watching the mile markers as you get closer. You're passing the sign reading eighteen miles to town, when the radio finally makes a sound.

Dustin’s voice comes in, quiet, no longer yelling for answers he doesn’t know exist. Robin is the one to pick it up, asks him what happened. And he tells her. She’s alright, she’s sleeping it off now in Steve’s car. They’re heading back to the wheelers.

She’s alright.

====

A loud sound wakes you. Your eyes open slowly, still blurry with sleep. It takes a moment to register that the sound is radio static and a familiar voice coming through.

Sitting up carefully, you make sure not to bump into Steve’s legs, where he’s curled in a seemingly uncomfortable way in an armchair, the same position he had been asleep in when you arrived last night. You search the floor for the radio, before realizing that it’s behind Dustin’s head on the TV stand. Reaching for the radio, you take it and carry it away from the others, who are still sleeping.

In your half asleep state, you press the button in the middle of Eddie trying to reach someone on the other end. “It’s way too early for this, Ed.”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” His voice lightens when he finally receives an answer. “Um, I'm gonna need a food delivery. Like really soon, unless you want me going out into the world-”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.” You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. “Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He responds quickly, barely giving you time to finish. “Listen, um, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s stupid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves-”

Behind you, you hear the sound of Nancy arguing with somebody. “Hey, hold on. I’m gonna have to call you back-” Eddie starts to protest, but you set the radio aside and hurry back in time to see Nancy shaking Dustin awake. “What’s going on?”

She ignores you, speaking directly to a startled Dustin. “Aren’t you supposed to be on Max watch?”

“Yup, yup, yup- Sorry-”Dustin rubs his eyes, still not completely aware of the empty sofa you’re now staring at.

“Where is she?” She asks.

“She’s right there-” He freezes. “A second ago- I swear, I just dozed off for…an hour.”

“Hold on guys-” You try to reason with them, but before either can listen, they shoot up the basement steps to search for her. “Or don’t. That’s a choice too.”

A creaking behind you makes you turn, your eyes landing on a disgruntled Steve Harrington waking up and shifting in the too small armchair, untangling himself.

“That’s what all this noise is about?” He asks groggily, his voice deeper than normal and his eyes squinted as he grunts, stretching his arms. “Max went upstairs like, thirty minutes ago.”

“Alone?” You ask, dropping onto the now empty sofa and refraining from shutting your eyes, still tired.

“Mrs. Wheeler’s up there with her. Making breakfast.” He runs a hand through disheveled hair, somehow making it sit more perfectly than should be possible. “Are you…wearing new clothes?”

“Sleepover, remember?” You gesture lazily towards your discarded backpack. “I brought a few changes of clothes.”

He hums, his eyes lowering to his two days old shirt and the jeans he’d slept in. For a while you sit in silence, both of you still trying to wake up, or maybe just unsure of what to say. But it’s not unpleasant, rather, it’s the opposite.

When he looks up again, his eyes hold yours, and you find that he’s sharing the same feeling. It’s easy to tell that both of you are tired, and comfortable. Here, beside him, you feel at ease in a way you hadn’t in days. Maybe it’s the quiet slowness of the morning, or the fact that you’re alone, save for the sleeping bodies of Lucas and Robin. And for a while, you both embrace the stillness. But like most things, it only lasts so long.

It’s been over twenty four hours since you’ve decided to be upset with him. And in that time, you’ve lost reason to care about it anymore, there’s not an ounce of you that wants to be upset. It’s long faded- but you still feel a wave of something like relief when he brings it to light again.

“I don’t think it’s his fault.”

You ask, sitting up. “What?”

“Eddie. I don’t think he caused this.” He says, his voice kept low and his eyes not leaving yours, holding them captive without trying. “I don’t think that he killed Chrissy.”

“He didn’t.” You look down at your hands, unable to hold his gaze, whether or not you’re greatful to hear what he’s admitting.

He says your name, and it’s almost too much to hear him say it in this context. Your voices are little more than whispers, trying not to wake the others, but it’s like he says it through cupped hands- loud and demanding your attention.

He doesn’t get a chance to continue.

“We’ve got something.” Nancy comes down the steps first, interrupting with a stack of papers in her hand, Max and Dustin right behind. They quickly wake the others, nearly scaring the shit out of Lucas and making Robin yelp.

“What do you mean?” Steve stands, and Robin clumsily clears the coffee table she had been sleeping on, dazed from her sudden wake. “What have you got?”

Nancy and Max begin to pay out the papers, page by page. They connect lines, the scribbled marks coming together like a spider's web. They continue through each page, fitting broken images together until everything aligns.

“What’s this?” You trace your fingers over the lines, frowning at the distorted images. “A map?”

“Almost.” Max says, taking creased pages and beginning to fold them, red and black shapes being manipulated into something else. “I saw this during… At first I thought it was a random mess, like an upside down junkyard. Everything was disconnected and in ruins, torn apart and separated, but it’s not random, it’s all pieces of the same place.”

Steve leans closer, looking down at the pages as Lucas and Robin crowd around. “Where?”

Slowly, she starts to arrange the folded pieces, Nancy helping to match the lines and shapes together. At first, it looks like nothing, but it’s familiar to you. Then, before the image is fully formed, it clicks into place within your memory. You take in a sharp breath, startling the people around you. “The Creel house.”

“What-” Robin gasps, her eyes wide as Nancy lays the last piece, the stained glass door. “Shit.”

“That’s where we need to go next.” Max says, her eyes locked onto the image. “We need to go there and look for something, anything that could be useful. A clue to give us more time or-”

“A cure.” Lucas says, tapping the papers. “If we get there, we can look for a cure. Then you’ll be safe, Max. We can get you the hell away from all this shit, away from Vecna.”

“Lucas-” Dustin attempts to slow him down, but he ignores it.

“A cure.” He says again, sounding nearly distraught. “We can get her out of it, guys. Once she’s safe we can figure out how to take him down, but if this place can fix her-”

“Fix me?” Max cuts him off.

Lucas freezes, stumbling over his words when he tries to recover. “Not fix you. Fix this. If we can fix everything, then it’ll all be over. But a cure-”

“And what if there’s not a cure?” She asks, her voice raised enough that you take half a step back. “What if instead of a cure, I die? What if we find out that I’m going to end up like Victor? If that happens, you still have to defeat Vecna! You still have to figure out how to stop him, so that no one else dies.”

“Max-” Steve speaks to her gently, his hand hovering a few inches from her shoulder, careful.

“No, Steve.” She snaps her head up to him, and for the first time since you’ve met her, you see the pain in her eyes.

They’re red, her cheeks flushed with the same color, and tears threatening to fall. Her eyebrows are furrowed, anger and sadness showing straight through her face. Her voice begins to shake, her hands flexing as she tries to hold herself together. The headphones around her neck sit there as a reminder, of what she’s close to.

“We don’t know what will happen when we get there, but we have to go, okay?” She’s looking at him while she speaks, but she directs it towards everyone in the room. “He needs to hear it- because it’s true. If I die, you need to keep going. You can’t stop, got it? Find out how to kill him, because you fucking have to-”

Steve's hand settles on her shoulder just as the first tear falls, her face crumbling with it. He hushes her, pulling her into his chest and down into the armchair. You can’t see it, because he keeps her face shielded, but you know. You know that she’s crying, her breathing too shallow, even if she falls silent while she cries. She doesn’t sob, she doesn’t yell anymore, she just stays there- and it’s enough.

Nancy clears away the papers, Robin helps her and they step away to talk. Dustin slowly moves across the room when the radio starts to go off again with Eddie’s voice. And Lucas…Lucas doesn’t move. His attention is not once taken off of Max where she’s curled into Steve’s embrace. And you realize that you can’t move either.

For three days, you’ve been involved with them. You’ve only known them for that long, and yet it feels like you’ve always known them. Every problem, you feel you need to help solve. Their triumphs are yours, and their pain…you feel it, every little bit of it. And some moments it seems like everyone is on the same page, because they’re all fighting the same evil. But now, when you look at them, you see that they’re children.

Max, she’s only fourteen. She’s facing a fate worse that anything you can imagine, she’s forced to fear every second- whether she can spare them or not. And now, even while she’s crying, she’s fighting for herself and everyone else. She doesn't deserve it at all, and you wish you could stop it. You wish that you could take all the fear and pain from her, and save her from this monster and every other one that’s looming over.

But you can’t, not now, without knowing how to. And it tears you up, this girl you had met only days ago, that you can’t help her yet. That you don’t know how to, or if you’ll even be able to. It weighs on you, clouding your head with what ifs and wishes you can’t hope for. Things that you never hope to feel again, after everything is over. And it only worsens when you look at Steve.

Only a few years older, Steve is taking responsibility. You can see it in everything he does. He might complain, but he wouldn’t ever leave them when he’s needed. He would never let them be lost, even if it means he has to pretend to know the way. He’s here, holding Max as she cries, as if she’s his responsibility. Because to him, she is. To him, each of the kids, even Robin and Nancy, are under his watch. He doesn’t expect anything from them, and part of you thinks he wouldn’t accept it.

He’s strong, you know it. You see it in the way he talks to her, quietly, trying to sooth her. It’s evident in the way he acts without being asked, in the way he wants to do anything he can. And most of all, it’s in the way he’s able to comfort her while he looks as though he himself might break.

The way his eyes water is nearly impossible to notice. The way his hands tremble on her shoulders, as he rubs her back. The way he has to pause every few seconds to take a deep breath, to keep his voice from becoming unsteady, because he has to stay strong for her.

And it burns a hole in your chest, watching it all unfold, being witness to the unnoticed. But you can’t look away, you won’t, because when it ends, you will be here if they need you.

Because, you have to be.

[djosfavewig]

Me when I read a good fic then I see how reader called the character daddy:

[djosfavewig]

I LIVE FOR THIS SERIES

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Things are finally picking up!!! Let’s see how this plays out for us <3 (I’m going insane trying to write the next installments without deleting every word I add…)

Currently Reading: Part Four

Masterlist

“Okay, be honest.” Steve asks, pacing the floor of the basement while you, Lucas, and Dustin sit on the sofa reading the prints Nancy and Robin had brought from the library. “You guys understand any of this?”

“No.” Both you and Lucas reply at the same time.

Dustin, the boy you’ve determined is either way too smart or too chaotic for his own good, seems to disagree. “It’s pretty straightforward.”

“Oh, straightforward, really?” Steve responds sarcastically, lowering his copy.

“Well what’s confusing to you? So far everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found.” Dustin explains, as if it’s common knowledge, making you drop your own copy to listen. “He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”

“Yeah, that’s assuming he was cursed, Henderson, which we don’t even know.”

“How could Vecna have existed back in the fifties?” You press your hands to your eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “It doesn’t even make sense.”

“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the upside down.” Dustin’s words only make your head spin more and more. “She opened a gate to it. The upside down has probably been around for thousands of years, millions. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs-”

“Dinosaurs? What are we doing?”

“Okay, okay.” Lucas cuts in, looking up from his paper. “But if a gate didn’t exist in the fifties, how did Vecna get through?”

“Oh, and, how’s he gettin through now?”

“And why now?”

“And why then? He just pops out in the fifties, kills one family, and he’s like, ‘Eh, I’m good.’ Poof, he just disappears, just, gone?” Steve waves a hand, emphasizing his words. “Only to return thirty years later and start killing some random teens? Nah, I don’t buy it.”

“Not one bit.” You toss your paper aside, standing from the sofa to stretch your legs and try to organize the thoughts cluttering your mind.

“Straightforward, my ass.” Steve shakes his head, looking up to Dustin. “You know, honestly, Henderson. A little humility every now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you.”

You let out a huff, recognizing the ironic nature of that statement, knowing damn well that Steve could have taken his own advice the night before. He seems to catch onto your thought, his eyes glancing over you for a half second before he drops onto the empty armchair.

The quiet only lasts a moment before Dustin speaks again, his eyes set across the room where Max sits at the small desk. “Any idea what she’s writing?” Everyone turns their eyes towards her, seeing the movement of her arm as she writes. “Did she sleep?”

You’re the one to answer, replying with another question. “I mean, would you?”

The basement door is thrown open at that moment, Nancy and Robin bounding down the steps with purpose, folders in hand.

“Okay, so.” Nancy speaks. “We have a plan.”

Robin passes a folder to Steve, while Nancy holds tight to her own, which means you have to lean over the back of Steve’s seat to read some thing of importance.

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.” Robin says, after pulling up a stool to sit on.

Nancy has moved everyone's stuff off of the other armchair and is now sitting there after passing her folder to Dustin. “I’m now Ruth.”

“And I’m Rose.” Robin continues.

Dustin looks over the file and then at Nancy, with an impressed nod. “Nice GPA.”

“Thanks.” She smiles, as though it weren’t faked for a fraudulent document. “So we called Pennhurst Asylum and told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel, for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics.”

“To which they said no.” Robin chimes.

“-But we landed a three o’clock with the director.” Nancy gives.

Robin continues. “Now, all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”

Nancy nods, looking across the room. “Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse.”

“Yeah, about that.” Steve says. “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and uh, we’ve got some questions.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas adds.

“So do we.” Nancy says. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” Steve looks up, closing the file. “Where’s mine?”

The look Nancy gives him makes your stomach twist, knowing that for the second mine that you’ve witnessed, she’s left Steve on the sidelines. And though you’re still frustrated with him for last night, the way she lets him down makes you wish she weren’t a factor in all of this so much more. You have to swallow back the urge to curse, instead hoping that your presence by Steve's side is enough to ease even a fraction of the disappointment she’s caused.

“Nancy?” The almost heartbroken realization in his voice makes you frown, your eyes landing on the girl with a silent wish that she had thought about him, maybe has his fake ID stored away.

That hope is easily broken when she excuses herself and starts to go back up the basement stairs. Steve stands and follows her, and you quickly go after them.

“Nancy?” He continues to ask, despite the way she bounds up two flights of stairs before going into her bedroom, you and Steve right behind. The pink walls and white furniture are unsurprising, but you had almost expected there to be some sort of horrible surprise waiting for you.

“Nancy, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.” Steve crosses his arms.

“Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger. She needs people around her.” While you agree with her words, you still can’t get over the intention behind them.

“I know, but why is it always me?”

Robin is through the door next, her attention immediately drawn to the wall. “Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster!”

You look at the wall- and there is the horrible surprise. Alright- admittedly a bit more handsome than horrible. “You have a Tom Cruise poster?”

“That’s old.” Nancy looks over her shoulder from where she’s opened her closet to dig through hanging clothes. “Can you please just not touch anything?”

When she turns, you intentionally reach for her vanity, shuffling a few things around in completely unadulterated spite while Steve talks. “I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe, I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know, I could, like- I could turn on my charm.”

“Not the kind of charm we need.”

“Ouch.” He turns away.

“No, I just.” She sighs, and you almost feel bad for her, until she continues to make excuses for herself. “Look, I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world and if we’re gonna win him over, we’re gonna have to convince him that we are too. And that like him, we are true academic scholars.”

Robin continues to awe over Nancy’s belongings, while you digest the fact that she had just insulted Steve Harrington several times without once even directing it towards him.

“Academic scholar?” He asks when Robin opens a music box to admire the sound and tiny ballerina figure spinning around. “She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah?”

“No…but.” Nancy raises a dust-blush colored dress by the hanger. “She will.”

Robin steps back, looking at the dress with a healthy amount of discomfort. “Oh, please, tell me that you’re joking.”

You finally find your voice, tired of sitting back and playing quietly. “She’s not. She wants to shove you into that pastel colored sheet and parade you around like a horse. But, you won’t be doing it alone. I’m going with you.”

Robin and Nancy both snap their eyes in your direction. The heat of Steve’s gaze is evident on the side of your face, but you attempt to keep cool and hope he understands that what you’re doing isn't as selfish as Nancy makes it sound.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her tone almost shrill with a fusion of shock and audacity.

“I mean, that I’m going to get all dressed up, and join your little thesis project.” You take the dress, passing it to a reluctant Robin. “You didn’t think to make an alias for Steve, but you didn’t sort out the extra identities that you chose from. I’m going to take one of the extra.”

“You can’t just-”

“Actually, she can.” Steve pushes away from the dresser he’d leaned on. “Three is better than two, and maybe with her, you'll find a lead and get out of there without a scene.”

“A scene?” Nancy asks, her eyes darting between you and him. “It’s a simple task. Get in, get information, and get out.”

“Then it won’t be a problem.” You give her a flat smile, crossing your arms over your chest and standing your ground. “I’m more than capable of doing that. And if there are three of us, it’ll mean an extra set of eyes and ears.”

“We don’t need-”

“Actually, I’d rather she did come with us? I’m not sure how cut out I am for a whole spy mission in an asylum.” Robin says with a raised hand.

Nancy is quiet, her eyes moving between everyone else in the room, as if searching for a reasonable explanation to forcing you out of the equation, though you had been the one to impose yourself. When she can’t seem to find one, she sighs and shuts her closet doors.

“Don’t screw this up.”

When she walks out of the room, you take a deep breath and lean against the iron frame of her bed. Steve sighs, the two of you listening to Robin escape to the hallways and Nancy already moving down the stairs.

“I’m sorry.” You say before he can speak. “I’m not trying to take this chance from you, but if I can’t help here, I want to.”

He nods, rubbing his eyes. “They had extra identities for you, not for me. It's fine. It’s better if you go, they need whatever help they can get.”

It’s too much. The disappointment, the hurt in his eyes as he resigns himself to the role imposed on him. He wants nothing more than to be in the action, to do something worth the risk. And yet he’s left behind by the one person who can offer it to him, and not for the first time.

“I could stay.” You say before you can think it over again, though you know that you would stay if he asked. “I could watch over the kids with you, or just…I could stay.”

His eyes meet yours, and it almost eases every bit of distress you feel. “No. Go with them, just don’t get killed or arrested, okay?”

You nod, standing up straight. “Okay.”

====

Listening to Nancy talk the entire way to the Asylum, attempting to give you and Robin exact instructions on how to act, down to crossing your legs, right over left when sitting- it’s absolutely terrible. You try your best to ignore her nagging without missing anything truly important.

The Asylum itself comes into view through the windows almost forty minutes into the pseudo torture. The building its tall, made of brick with spires and dozens of large windows. The car drives down the road under an iron archway formed into the name of the asylum. You decide that it’s no more unsettling than visiting an older college campus, the architectural style mimicking several others, meant to appear like an upper class European university while using Baroque techniques.

There is no true parking lot, at least, Nancy forgoes search for one in favor of parking along the roadside between several other cars. You climb out of the back seat, Nancy and Robin out of the front, before making your way to the entrance of the building a few yards away.

While Robin struggles with the heels Nancy had given her to wear, Nancy walks slightly ahead, eager to be the first into the asylum.

“I can’t breathe in this thing. And I’m itchy and I’m itching all over.” Robin’s voice rises, matching the uncomfortable way she carries herself in these clothes.

“It’s not all about comfort.” Nancy tells her almost in a directory manner, as if she’s supposed to be suffering a reaction to her clothing. “Okay? We’re academics.”

“Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch.” Robin snaps back, and you fight to hide a smile. “Also, this bra you gave me is really pinching my boobs.”

“Okay- Could you just, let me do the talking? Is that even possible?”

“Nancy.” You chide, but Robin is already coming back with her own spitfire response, securing your love for her even further.

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable. Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation.”

Nancy ignores her complaints, picking up her pace to push through the entrance doors and walk towards the front desk, where a nurse sits rippling down at a paperback book in her lap. Nancy leans over the desk, smiling down at the woman, attempting to catch her attention.

The nurse, an older woman wearing a neat uniform and round glasses, looks up at Nancy with a sour expression. “May I help you?”

“Yes, please.” Nancy says to her with a smile that reminds you to never look so needlessly and annoyingly chipper. “My…associates and I have a meeting with Dr. Hatch. Three o’clock?”

The nurse looks down at her desk then lets out a sigh and lifts a wooden clipboard towards Nancy. “Sign in. Visiting hours end at nine and there is no wandering allowed.”

“Oh…okay.” Nancy takes the clipboard, signing herself in as Ruth before passing it to Robin, who signs as Rose. “It’s for our thesis, we’re studying-”

“Nine o’clock. Sharp. No wandering.” The nurse slides the partition shut, leaving Nancy staring at the frosted glass.

“Wow.” You say, unable to hide a grin as you place the pen in its spot after signing your alias name on the printed line, Francine. “She really seemed to like you, Nance.”

A set of guards step into view, one waving a hand for the three of you to follow. Nancy mutters a few insults under her breath, but you don’t care enough to argue, feeling more like laughing at the way she so clearly dislikes your presence. “Let’s just get in, do this, and get out. Got it?”

Robin walks beside you, her eyes wide as she watches Nancy stalk away, in the direction of the office. “So…is there some sort of tension here that I don’t understand or…?”

“I’m pretty certain she hates me.”

“Oh, for sure.” Robin nods. “But why?”

You shrug, smoothing the fabric of your soft blue blouse. “I’m not sure, and I don’t think I really care enough to find out.”

The room is located in the east wing, the wooden walls and doors polished and oiled, making no sound as the three of you are shown into Dr. Hatch’s office. He sits quietly, only nodding in greeting as the three of you sit in the provided chairs. Robin and Nancy are two across from him, and you left to sit in a chair against the wall.

“We have our transcripts here.” Nancy says, skipping any more greeting formalities in order to get straight to the point. “Rose, Francine, and Mine.”

“Old fashioned names, that’s nice.” He hums, flipping through the folder she slides towards him. “Not as nice as your credentials. Three-point-nine GPAs, all of you. Impressive.”

“And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” She passes him an official looking paper.

“Yeah, I know Larry.” He takes the paper, looking it over with a soft smile before setting it aside and taking off his glasses. “Quite well, actually. You know what they say, those who can’t do, teach.”

The three of you laugh off the sudden worry that his relationship with the man you’ve pretended to earn a recommendation letter from, might have complicated things.

“Uh, yes, yes. That’s actually why we’re here.” Nancy tries to recover the ground you haven’t yet lost. “I mean, we can only learn so much in a classroom.”

“And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol for visiting a patient like Victor.” Dr. Hatch says, leaning forward to stress the issue at hand. “You have to put in a request. And then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

A sense of dread sinks into your chest, you hadn’t realized how deep you've fallen into the depths of this mess until he speaks to you three- until you remember that you are using a fake name, with fake information, to get information from an asylum patient. All in an effort to save the life of a stranger, from a monster in another dimension.

It makes you feel sick, but you dig your fingernails into your palms and maintain yourself, head kept high and swallowing down any and all fear that may compromise the task.

“I can see you’re disappointed.” He continues, sliding the folders and letters back towards Nancy and Robin. “But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low security wing?”

“And we…we would love that.” Nancy says, doing nothing to hide the desperation. “It’s just that, um, our thesis is due next month.”

“And you’re out of time.” Dr. Hatch finishes sternly. “Who’s fault is that?”

Mentally, you are yelling, wondering why she hadn’t thought things through well enough- not only diminishing the image you each are attempting to maintain as distinguished academic scholars, but she’s putting you in a bad spot, almost certainly ruining the entire product of the visit.

“Ours, absolutely. And I do apologize.”

“Don’t apologize, Ruth. Screw that.” Robin, at least, is ready to clean up the act without giving into unjust wrongs. “The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request, months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really- I can’t breathe in this thing.”

“Uh, well, Rose. Maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air.” Nancy cuts in with the same unhelpful words.

“Maybe I should, Ruth.” Robin stands, her acting suddenly worthy of an award. “Because I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony?”

He nods, unphased by the speech.

“These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field, they just don’t. We don’t look the part, or whatever, but can I tell you a story? Nineteen seventy-eight, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew? You know Petey, right, Francine?”

“Of course.” You answer, hoping that your sheepish expression comes off as though recalling a distant memory.

“Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full on hyperventilating. All all the other campers? Couldn’t sleep for weeks. And I couldn’t either, but not because I was scared. Because I was obsessed with the question, what would drive a human being to commit such unimaginable acts? Other kids, they wanted to be astronauts, basketball players, rock stars- but I wanted to be you.”

That’s when you see it. The shift in the way Dr. Hatch looks at her, from unbothered to now intrigued, proud even.

“I wanted to be you.” Robin goes on. “So, forgive me, if I’ll now try anything in my power- including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get to speak to the man that ignited my passion and learn a little more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works. So, yes, we don’t have the official paperwork. But don’t tell me that cry-baby Petey McHew wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in moments, if he’d ask politely because you and I both know that he would.”

He leans back in his charge, and the fear turns to something good. Without Robin, you wouldn’t have made it.

The light in her eyes is still shining, her head high and back straight as she cools. “So…ten minutes with Victor. That’s all I ask.”

Dr. Hatch is quiet, not saying a word to any of you, or even to call in security. The silence hangs in the air like the blade of a guillotine over your heads, waiting to decide your fate. And it stays like that, for too long, letting your excitement deflate and your anxiety to creep in- Then he stands and gestures for you to follow. Together, you walk out the office door, and he informs his secretary that he’d be back in thirty minutes, leading you towards your final destination, deep into the asylum.

For several minutes, you fear that he’s escorting you out, but then the tour starts. He shows you the grounds, speaks about the health of the patients and the responsibilities of the staff. He talks you through the process of receiving and releasing patients, as well as monitoring progress and regression.

The grounds are green and lush with flowers and grass. The staff is kind, and easy speaking to the patients. And the listening room, Dr. Hatch calls it a place of refuge.

Painted a sea blue color, there is a chalkboard on the wall, several records strewn around, and music playing aloud. Some patients wear headphones, listening to tapes on personal players.

“We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind.” He says, leading you through the listening room. “The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning can prove a salient stimulus. But there are those who are…beyond a cure.”

“Any music?” Your question comes without thinking, but you don’t attempt to take it back, curiosity winning over sense. “Any genre? Or does one work better than the others?”

“Any music, Miss…”

“Francine.” You give him your new name easily, already forming another question. “This sort of therapy, does it work on hostile patients?”

He nods slowly. “Our establishment uses a reward based system. Low-Security patients are allowed to utilize the listening room if they’ve shown no signs of violence against themselves or others, however we have conducted studies. The music, whichever genre it may be, can at times help calm even the hostile patients.”

“That’s fascinating.” You begin to ask whether or not other facilities use this technique, when Nancy cuts a glare in your direction.

Shoving away your curiosity, you fall silent as you leave the room and walk through another hallway, then into a stairwell. It’s a maze, the asylum. You can barely keep track of your location in relation to the entrance of the building- and for a moment you worry about whether you’d be able to navigate back in the case of an emergency.

The worry seems to grow when you are on the last flight of stairs, coming to face the stone walls and a large metal door with a tiny glass window, manned by a security guard with a heavy stare and unyielding face.

“Uh, Dr. Hatch?” Nancy calls the doctor's name as you move down the final steps, her eyes not even landing in the cell. “Do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?”

You consider what’s behind the door, and for a moment you hope that the man insists on security following.

“Alone?” He asks.

“Yes, alone.” You step between Nancy and Robin, schooling your face into one of determination. “I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself.”

Robin nods. “Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face when we get back to campus-”

You bite your tongue, praying that he hadn’t caught onto the minor slip that she had made- only to have your stomach drop when you see the way his brows furrow.

“Professor Bradley?” He asks. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley! She-” Nancy does little to fix the situation, speaking too loudly too quickly. “She meant to say Brantley.”

“Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say- Sorry, silly me.” Robin speaks in a rushed voice. “Words, letters- guess I’m just nervous. I mean excited! So excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as she said, alone?”

More silence, something you are beginning to detest coming from the doctor. But he smiles after considering your words. “Yes, why not? You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood. And there’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyways, so…sure.”

The final statement twists your stomach and you realize- he’s onto you. He might not have been moments ago, but now he is.

“Keep a close eye on them.” He tells the guard, then nods with a small smile and skirts past you back up the stairs.

While the other two women thank him, you stay quiet, your eyes following him until he’s out of view and the guard has opened the door. You only look away when the guard leads you through the cell door, closing it before opening the bar door, and closing that one again before walking you down the long hall of barred cells for singular patients…prisoners.

“Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” You all respond, but you’re only half listening- already forming a plan of escape, because soon you’d be revealed as frauds.

The guard, a bastard of a man, ignores his own rules. He drags his baton across the bars of the last cell, a loud clanking metal clanking meant to disturb the old man hunched over the desk inside.

“Victor!” He taunts, leaning against the wall just inches from the bars. “Today’s your lucky day! You got visitors. Real pretty ones.”

You level your eyes at his, your jaw clenched and your hands folded in front of you, but the weight in your pocket reminds you that you aren’t completely defenseless here. No matter how large the disgusting man is, three women and the anger in their hearts might be enough to escape, when paired with the switchblade in your skirt.

Victor is scratching at the desk, the sound unnerving and the guard shrugs. “Must be in one of his moods. Have fun.”

Then the guard walks away, having the gall to look over his shoulder twice, not at the cells but at the three of you, dressed up and standing in the dark cell tunnel. You feel safer when he’s gone, even locked into the tunnel with several hostile patients.

Now alone, Nancy speaks.

“Victor?” He doesn’t respond, still scratching, making low guttural noises, like a caged animal. “My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And this is…”

“Robin Buckley.”

Telling him your name, your real name, and step forward- still several feet from the bars. “We have some questions.”

“I don’t talk to reporters.” He spits scratching again, deeper. “Hatch knows that.”

“We’re not reporters.” You move closer, promising that to him, hoping to get into his good graces. “We’re here because…we believe you. And because we need your help.”

“Whatever killed your family.” Robin joins you, closer to the bars. “We think it’s back.”

The scratching stills, the last of it echoing down the hall in a way that sends a chill down your spine. And then, he turns- revealing a scarred, eyeless face.

[djosfavewig]

AKDJFHALSKDJFASDK IM SO LUCKY TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND AND I’M SO DAMN PROUD OF YOU FOR POSTING THIS FIC THAT I L O V E. ITS SO NICE SEEING OTHER PEOPLE ENJOY YOUR WRITING.

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This one’s a bit rough, but I swear the awkward bits will smooth out and the story will take better form :) Definitely don’t recommend trying to fit an entire story in the timeframe of a few days unless you’re okay with a bit of awkwardness-

Currently Reading: Part Three

Masterlist

The next stop is the school, and by the time you arrive it’s already dark. Dustin had given you a flashlight, and you join them in breaking into the building, only half worried you’ll be caught.

You’ve only been in the hallways for a few minutes when the radio catches a signal and robin's voice filters through.

“Dustin, do you copy?”

He quickly raises the walkie, extending the antenna and answering. “Yeah, I copy.”

“So, Nancy’s a genius.”

You snort, but attempt to cover it by clearing your throat, neither of the boys pay attention and Max only huffs out an amused breath.

“Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to nineteen fifty-nine. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

Dustin spares you from all the Nancy praise, using a clipped tone. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but I can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Breaking and entering in a school to retrace some confidential personal files?”

“…Can you repeat that?”

“Just get your ass over here, stat. We’ll explain everything.”

He shoves the radio back as Max unlocks the door to the office, pushing it open for you all to enter. You shine the flashlight, illuminating one corner at a time, taking in the stacks of papers and filing cabinets.

“It’s like a mini watergate, or something.” You say, looking at a wall of posters regarding mental health and flaming techniques.

“Hawkinsgate.” Dustin offers.

Steve’s right behind you, staying close enough that you can almost feel him. “Didn’t those guys get caught?”

“Holy shit-” Max says, looking through the files inside a cabinet.

“You found it?” You walk towards her, both Steve and Dustin on your heels.

“Yeah.” She begins to pull out folders, identical except for the names on each tab. “And not just Chrissy’s file. Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.”

She passes you the files, and you lay them on the desk while she gathers more. You pass Steve the flashlight, opening the first file while he shines it over your shoulder.

Inside, you find different papers, exposing the secrets and sessions Chrissy had shared with Ms. Kelley- but other, more personal information is documented there too, along with her photo. Rough transcripts of their meetings, various conversations, and most importantly- a list of symptoms.

“Can I see Fred’s file?” You ask and Steve hands it to you, Max scooting in close to read too.

The list of symptoms is identical. You compare them, side by side, and not one inconsistency is found. Max takes in a sharp breath beside you, her eyes moving rapidly over the written lines. Then- all at once, they go still.

“Max?” You whisper her name, and when she doesn’t answer, you touch her shoulder and jostle her to get her attention. “Hey, Max.”

Panic rears and you grab her tighter, trying to pull her out of this trance. She jerks away and looks up at you- then suddenly pushes from the desk, walking out and leaving you to return the room to its original state.

You listen to her footsteps move down the hall and begin to fix the files back into place as quickly as you can before Max’s voice calls, and you immediately run. You shut the door to the office and turn the corner to find her shining a light at the dead end of the hallway.

“Did you see someone?”

She hesitates, then shakes her head. “Not someone. A clock- an old grandfather style clock. It was just-”

She shakes her head again and gestures with the light just as Nancy and Robin burst through the side doors and meet you. “It was here. Right there.”

“A grandfather clock?”

She stares, her voice strained as she searches for what’s gone. “And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just…I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a trance, or something.” Dustin explains, Nancy and Robin listening with unsure expressions. “Exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

Max turns around, and the fear in her eyes is more sadness than terror- somehow more unsettling than the reverse. “That’s not even the bad part.”

She walks past you, cutting back towards the office and pulling out the files again, laying them out for everyone to see. “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelly for help.” She says, sifting through the papers.

“They both were having headaches.” You nod, finding the right one and pointing it out.

She nods back. “Bad headaches, that just wouldn’t go away. And then…then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat- and then they started seeing things.”

Again, a sense of dread, something you hadn’t experienced so often now most prevalent in the last two days.

“Bad things. From their pasts.” Her voice makes it worse. “These visions, they just- they kept on getting worse and worse until eventually…everything ended.”

“Vecna’s curse.” You swallow back the eerie feeling creeping into your throat.

“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s, six days ago.” The room is quiet, listening to Max as she speaks, all eyes focused on her. “I’ve been having them for five days.”

You close your eyes, lowering your head and taking a steady breath. From the back of your mind, you remember Barb. Images of her body, mangled like Fred’s in the street, flash in your mind- and you pray she didn’t suffer a similar fate.

No, you would have noticed. At times she’d been distant, more so after she’d had a rough week, her other friends often draining her energy. But she’d never had these symptoms-headaches, nosebleeds, sudden visions…

“I don’t know how long I have.” You look up again as Max goes on, the moral of the room sinking with every word. “All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamned clock-”

The tears in her eyes and the catch in her voice are enough to make your own chest ache.

“Looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow-”

Her voice barely has time to rest before an echo sounds from the dark- a door opening far down the hallway. Everyone stares out the door, startled by the sound and still on edge from everything else.

Steve is the first to move, his head turning back to the group before shading, “Stay here.”

On the way out the door, he unplugs a standing lamp wielding it with both hands and carrying it into the hallway. With the heaviness in the office, you can’t bear to stay any longer, so you reach for a heavy metal stapler and follow behind him, disregarding his order.

When you fall in step beside him, he glades at you, his eyes lowering to the stapler. You elbow him gently, urging him forward, earning a few muttered words and a sigh.

The two of you move slowly, makeshift weapons raised. The rest of the group follows Dustin’s flashlight shining down the hall and guiding you onward.

The corridor splits, and footsteps echo on the left side, just beyond the corner. Steve adjusts his grip on the lamp, you raise your stapler, and just as the intruder runs into the open space in front of you they scream.

Everyone screams- not just the kid Steve nearly bludgeoned- but Steve himself, as well as Dustin and the girls- everyone yelling and jumping back- the sudden noise flipping the flight response in each of you.

“It’s me!” The kid yells, and you don’t have enough air in your lungs to ask who me is.

Nancy is the first one to speak as he tries to catch his own breath. “Lucas?”

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you, Sinclair?” The raised pitch and volume of Steve’s voice would be funnier if you weren't standing against the wall with your hand over your heart, trying to calm its rapid pulse.

“I’m sorry-”

Breathless, Steve raises his weapon again with both hands wrapped tight around the neck, no less aggravated than before. “I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Sorry guys, sorry.” Lucas apologizes, his face twisted as he pants and clutches his side. “I was biking for eight miles- Give me a second. Shit.”

He takes a few gasping breaths, and you push away from the wall, taking the lamp from Steve and setting it on the ground.

“We’ve got a code red.” He finally manages to say between gulps of air.

“A what?” You squint up at Steve, who looks as lost as you do.

“Dustin-” Lucas pushes past, frantic. “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy- and they’ve gone totally off the rails- They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger-”

Dustin takes the news better than you’d expect. “Alright, yeah, that definitely sucks. But we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.”

All gazes fall on the unfocused eyes of the girl beside you. All minds turn to how much time Max has left.

And the clock keeps ticking.

====

“Are you coming?”

Dustin holds the back door open, having just stepped out of the car. Max, Robin, Nancy, and Lucas have already filed in through the front door to the Wheeler's house, each one of them exhausted.

“I…” You hesitate, feeling just as tired as they all look, but your mind is too busy with the thought of your worrying parents.

“I’ve got her.” Steve tells him, patting his shoulder to urge him towards the house. “Keep an eye on Max, okay?”

Dustin looks between the two of you, then slowly nods and turns away to walk to the front door, carrying his backpack. As soon as he’s inside Steve steps aside and opens the passenger door, gesturing for you to switch seats.

“Where’s home?” He asks once he settles back into the driver's seat, running a hand through his hair while blinking tired eyes.

“Denfield.”

He nods slowly, turning the key and starting the engine, pulling out of the driveway with light looking twice.

You sit quietly for a few seconds, but guilt and nervousness eats away at your consciousness until you're forced to speak. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” He glances at you, his brows furrowed. “What would you be sorry for?”

“For…everything?” You bite your lip, already raw from how much you’ve done so. “I didn’t mean to force my way into all of this. And what’s happening with Max- I’m just in the way. You even have to drive me.”

“Look.” He shakes his head, his hands flexing on the steaming wheel. “You didn’t force yourself into this. If anything, Eddie dragged you into it by hiding at the boathouse. You just…had bad luck, okay? Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” You repeat, trying to let the words sink in, trying to believe them without argument. “Are you sure this isn’t too much? I mean, you don’t owe me anything.”

“How are you going to get home? Like hell you’re walking around town at night with Vecna and those varsity assholes on the loose.” He sighs, then continues- though his voice softens. “I’ll drive you home, then we can figure everything out tomorrow. You’re in this now, alright? You’re not in the way.”

The reassurance helps, your anxiety calming just enough for your chest to loosen and air to come easier to your lungs.

“How do you handle it?” You ask once you’re sure you want to hear the answer. “You said you’ve…done this all before?”

“This hasn’t happened before. But, dealing with the superstitious shit?” He shrugs. “I was dragged into it too, but I already knew them. It was easy to just…follow. Protect them, gather information, make sure the little shits stay alive. It all just happened. I didn’t have time to question it.”

“It’s all so much.” You close your eyes, tilting your head to rest against the headrest.

The drive isn’t very long, nearly a straight shot through the heart of town. You let yourself rest quietly, thankful when Steve turns the radio on softly, to fill the silence with something other than your own thoughts. Soon, you open your eyes and Steve turns down the road to your house, the driveway coming into view.

“Don’t leave.” You tell him once he parks in front of the garage. “I’ll be back out in a few.”

He shifts into park, his soft eyes meeting yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment all you can do is hold his gaze, silently considering your next moves. If you were to leave, forget about everything you’ve learned in this short time, it would have to be now. And if you were to stay…It could mean running straight into a danger you have no experience in.

“I’ll be quick.” You open the car door, climb out, and hurry up the front steps before giving it a second thought.

The front door is unlocked, so you push through and head to the living room. Your mother and father are speaking, coffee steaming from cups in their hands, a rerun episode of M*A*S*H playing on the TV.

Leaning down between them, you kiss their cheeks, taking a bit of comfort in their familiarity amid your stress.

“Now, just where have you been?” Your mother asks, brows pinched as she gives a stern look towards the clock. “It’s nearly ten.”

“I ran into a few friends I haven’t seen since graduation.” You give her a smile, squeezing your fathers hand when he takes yours. “You remember Nancy. Nancy Wheeler?”

Your mother’s eyes light up and she nods, setting her coffee aside. “The smart one? Who looks like your uncle’s old girlfriend?”

You purse your lips and nod. “She’s studying for a college entrance course and invited me to stay for the week to study together.”

“For a week?” Your mother gasps. “To do what? No test can take that long. And what about her brother, she has a brother doesn’t she?”

“He’s away for spring break.” You reach for straws, hoping that you’d be able to cover yourself for just long enough. “And it’s a really big test, you have to study Math and English, plus science and social studies- There are several different things you need to know in order to get accepted into a good school nowadays.”

“But you’ve already sent your applications, no?” Your father asks, speaking through his cup.

You try your best not to hesitate. “Only to a few, but the more I study, the better chances I have at passing any of the exams you take before being admitted.”

He quietly digests the information. “For the entire week?”

Relief is near instantaneous, the tone and question a sure sign of his approval, however cautious he seems of the situation. And with his approval, your mother will follow suit.

“Just for spring break, she already has books I can borrow and her parents are okay with it as long as you are.”

“Alright, but don’t forget to call us if you need anything. And make sure to say thank you. If these people get you into a good school, we will have to be very grateful.” He nods, lifting the cup to his mouth with his final words.

“Thank you.” You lean down and kiss his cheek again, and your mothers. “I’ll go pack now- I might be too busy studying this week, but I promise to call home if anything happens.”

He nods, attention turning the the TV as a character begins a dispute.

“Take your medicine. You don’t want headaches while you work. And your glasses too, you need to use them.” Your mother calls to you as you begin to walk up the stairs.

“I will!” You respond quickly, hurrying to your room and turning the light on.

As fast as you can be, you change into a clean set of clothes, grabbing a backpack and stuffing some more inside, a set of keys, and whatever else is in your reach.

With a final goodbye, you walk out the front door and get back into Steve’s car. He takes the backpack from you as you climb in, placing it into the backrest before putting the car into reverse.

“I told them I’d be staying at the Wheelers, studying for the week.” You say before he can ask about what happened inside the house.

“It’s not a lie.” He says after a heartbeat.

“Nope.” But you’re not sure how much you even believe it. The uncomfortable feeling of guilt still bites at your heart, knowing why you’ve been untruthful doesn’t make it easier.

The ride back is quiet, the headlights washing over the empty roads surrounded by trees, until you cruise into the sleeping heart of town. Most lights are off, no one is outside. The only other people you see are cleaning behind store windows, and the officers sitting in their shop in an empty parking area.

“Are you okay?” You ask without looking at him, eyes out the window as you pass through the edge of the square and back into the trees.

“Am I-” He lets out a surprised sound. “I mean, I guess? I’m alive, that’s more than Fred can say. It’s all just…Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You don't think twice, the answer is immediate, and it’s one that you can mostly believe for the time being.

“Even spending the night surrounded by a bunch of overgrown kids?”

“Aren’t Nancy’s parents going to be put off by that? Having a ton of people crashing at their house? They don’t even know me.” You wince, then turn to look at him. “And, they’re fine with you there? They do know you and Nancy dated, right?”

He shrugs. “They think I’m with Robin, and in the last few years they’ve gotten more lenient. Now, they barely notice if someone is gone or there. The most they’ll say is to wipe your feet before stepping on the carpet.”

“Don’t they know that Robin is…” You gesture with a hand in the air. Steve's eyes widen and you drop your hand quickly. “I mean, she is, right? Because, if she’s not-”

“How-” He stares at you for a second, his eyes snapping back to the road to dodge a pothole. “Is it that obvious?”

“Isn’t it?” You let out a soft laugh, trying to ease the awkwardness of the moment. “She doesn’t exactly scream ‘I like men’.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “I think you’re the first person to find out.”

“Unless everyone else is completely dense, then I guarantee I’m not the only.” You see the street sign for Cherry Oak and sit up. “Do you think we could stop at the boathouse?”

“Yeah.”

The car turns down the road, and soon he pulls into the driveway to the house. The gravel under the tires echoes loud into the night, then the sound of the doors opening as you and Steve climb out, keeping the car in and the headlights illuminating the outside.

There, in the same place you had left it this morning, your car sits undisturbed. The windows are damp, from the late night dew formed in the humidity of the lake side. You open the back door to Steve’s car, reaching for your back and unzipping it to rummage for your keys.

The wind carries the sound of the moving water of the lake, the trees rustling in the breeze and branches creaking turn the pleasant sound so something eerie. In the back of your mind, you can imagine the scene of a slasher film, a poor camp counselor being murdered in similar dark conditions without a single suspicion that anything sinister would be coming for her.

Steve is leaning against the side of his car, his head tilted down the way towards the dark windows of the boathouse. “Do you think he's still in there?”

“Still in where?”

The voice comes from behind you, loud and clear through the dark- startling you hard enough that you jump, turning quickly in its direction while Steve’s hand wraps around your arm to pull you away from it.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Eddie apologizes immediately, stepping around from the other side of your car, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Dark hair kinda blends into the shadows, huh?”

“Yeah, no shit.” Steve lets out a breath, his heart undoubtedly as erratic as yours.

Eddie shrugs, then taps the hood of your car, the sound making you cringe slightly when you hear the unmissable click of his rings against the metal, the floating worry about paint scratches coming to mind. “I was wondering when you’d come back for this baby.”

“Yeah, well, we’re here.” Steve’s fingers tighten the slightest bit on your arm before he lets go, though he doesn’t move any further.

“Sorry, we should have brought you something.” You say to Eddie, stepping forward again to reach back into your bag. “I know it sucks being stuck in there.”

“Eh, not much I can do about it with the bounty hunters on my ass.” He flashes a grin, one that contradicts the hesitant look in his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, though. I’ve got all the tools to keep me company. And after three years of woodshop, I actually know some of their names.”

Finally, you find your keys. You raise them up for Steve to see, shaking them until they chime. He raises his brows and gives a thumbs up, humoring you even though you can sense the uncomfortable tension in his movements.

“I guess we’ll just leave you to it.” You turn to Eddie, offering a quick smile. “Don’t die on us while we’re gone, Eddie.”

He stands up straight and nods, moving towards the main house, where he must have been when you’d arrived. “Okay, but don’t die on me either, woman.”

“No promises.” You answer, and frown when Steve mutters under his breath.

“Something to say, Harrington?” Eddie asks, his voice somewhere between exasperated and mischievous, the boredom of seclusion obviously taking effect.

“Nothing, just- woman?” He shakes his head, the phrase spoken like a sour word.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie’s grins, and you feel an awkward and bitter tension settle thick in the air. “What should I call her then? Lady? Babe?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” You shake your head and make a face. “Just stick to my name, dude.”

Steve stays close behind you as you walk towards the driver door of your car. You can almost feel him hovering while you unlock the door and toss your bag to the passenger seat.

“No, Iet me see. I’ve got to have something to call you, right?” He scratches his chin. “Sweetheart is too sappy…”

“That’s enough.” Steve shifts, his body now at a half angle between the two of you, his hand raised in the air to stop Eddie from continuing.

“I’ll keep thinking ‘bout it. We all know I have the time.” Eddie flashes another smile, taking a slow step backwards with a mock salute. “Stay safe, gorgeous. Harrington.”

He’s not even halfway through the door when Steve lets out a grumbling breath, dropping his hand to your door and holding it open while you climb inside. “Fucking asshole.”

“Excuse me?” You snap your eyes up to him, your key pausing an inch from the ignition.

“Not you.” He nods his head towards the house, jaw ticking. “Something about him gets on my nerves.”

“Come on, he’s not that bad.” You start the car, tuning the radio until it’s on its lowest setting, playing music softly to fill the silence and quiet the eeriness. “He’s just trying to get his mind off things.”

“I know exactly where his mind’s at.”

Again you look at him with wide eyes, but he isn’t paying attention to catch it, his gaze set back on the house with something clouding his eyes.

“What are you getting at?” You ask him, your voice clipped.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, his attention drawn back to you. With a pointed look at your seatbelt, he uses one hand to mimic putting one on, urging you to do so. “Just- We’re out here risking our asses, and he’s hiding out in his supplier's house.”

“He didn’t choose this.” You say, your words emphasizes by the click of your buckle.

“No, he didn’t. And neither did we.” He sets his jaw, running a hand over his face before looking down at you and letting out a sharp breath. “He’s the one that brought Chrissy to his house, he charmed her into it. She died, and now we’re trying to figure out how to clean up his mess.”

“Are you saying that this is his fault?” You let out a bitter laugh. “What the fuck? I know you’ve been doing this for longer, but even I can tell that Eddie isn’t in cohorts with some monster from another dimension-”

“And how do we know that?”

“How do you know that?”

He’s quiet. His eyes steady on yours, unwavering, and for a long few seconds you think he’s going to reply with another argument, maybe an apology or attempt to make amends, but instead he just shakes his head.

“Do you know how to get to Nancy’s?” When you don’t answer he mutters something that you can’t hear, again running his hand over his face as if you're the one causing strife. “Just follow me.”

Everyone is already asleep by the time you and Steve have parked the cars in the street and walked through the house down into the Wheeler’s basement. Lucas and Dustin are passed out on the floor in a pile of pillows and quilts. Max has taken the sofa, a patterned blanket over her body, and her headphones fitted over her head. Robin is slumped in the second armchair, the first having been piled with their belongings. Nancy must have left for her own bed, because she’s nowhere in sight.

The kids had been kind enough to leave two blankets on the edge of the sofa, which Steve grabs while you tuck your bag against the armchair and reach for one of the pillows the boys aren’t sprawled on top of. Silently, Steve passes you a blanket and gestures towards the floor across the room, the only spot left in the basement that would fit a sleeping person.

Two sleeping people.

You drop your pillow against the wall, settling onto the floor while Steve takes off his jacket, tossing it onto the floor an arms length away from you. You watch as he grabs a pillow for himself, dropping beside his jacket and lowering himself to lay on the floor.

Quietly, you slip down, covering yourself with the blanket, despite the room being warm enough already. And for a while, you stare at the wooden beams above, counting them to try and ease your mind into some semblance of peace, enough to sleep for the few hours you have until morning. The slow rhythms of sleeping breath patterns fill the air, the occasional sleepy sound or shift of blankets the only other noise. It takes a long time before you finally join them.

[djosfavewig]

HOW I FEEL KNOWING WHATS NEXT EHEHEHEEEE.

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: We had the clock app banned for a few hours and I was momentarily frightened over how we’d get season 5 edits :,) Now, if you haven’t already realized, this fic follows through the episodes of season four. Let’s see if there’s any changes…

Currently Reading: Part Two

Masterlist

At nine in the morning, it's been twelve hours since you’ve discovered the intruders. Twelve hours since you had heard Eddie’s story, and pieces of the stories Dustin, Robin, Max and Steve had spared over the few years of curses that they’ve endured.

Sleep came sparingly, and you had been dressed and ready to…you’re not sure exactly, but you couldn’t sit still any longer.

Most days, you walk to the house when making your checks, but this morning you take your car- not caring about how the gravel might scuff the rims or how the dust will dirty the paint. The engine cuts when you pull the key out of the ignition, quickly climbing out and loading your arms with a few bags of snacks and water bottles before shutting the car door.

You haven’t made it halfway to the boathouse when a second car pulls into the drive, the familiar faces from the night before following you to the building, carrying bags of their own.

Robin nods a hello, handing off an extra bag to Dustin and follows him and Max ahead of you to the boathouse. Steve, on the other hand, lingers back, sticking by you.

“Here.” He reaches out, taking the heavier bags from your hands.

“Thanks.” You offer him a small smile, but it’s little more than a nicety, still unnerved by the information fed to you the night before.

He gives you his own polite smile, falling as quickly as your own did, just as exhausted. Quietly, you walk together, following the group to the door.

The quiet, however, is broken when the door opens and a disgruntled, nervous Eddie is posed with a weapon and a few choice words for scaring him so badly.

Dustin grins, raising the bags, while Steve reaches over your head to wave his fingers, an action so petty you nearly laugh. “Delivery service!”

Muttering a few insulting phrases, Eddie takes one of the bags, pulling out the first thing he can reach. A box of cereal. He stalks away, towards the boat he has deemed his favorite spot in the building, opening the box as he walks.

Steve drops the bags on the floor, the others following suit. Groceries spill onto the floor, and you crouch to gather them before they fall into the water to be wasted.

A shadow casts over you, and when you glance up, you see Steve lowering to help you, wordlessly placing them back into the bags.

When you stand, he gestures for you to stand beside him, opening a small bag of trail mix he hadn’t replaced, offering it to you- as if he had known you hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before.

Standing beside Steve against the wall, the two of you share the food. Every time you finish a portion, he’ll pour more into your outstretched hand- an action so natural you could imagine you’ve been close friends for years, rather than acquainted for less than a day.

“So we got, uh…” Dustin begins to talk while Eddie feasts on dry cereal. “Some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?”

Eddie pretends to consider his options, a handful of cereal being dropped back into the yellow box before lifting an equally bright colored bottle of Yoohoo. “Bad news first, always.”

“Alright, bad news.” Dustin continues. “We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they're definitely looking for you.”

The news is new to you, making you wince, half wondering if you’ve become an accomplice to this entire thing.

“Also, they’re pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.” He adds as if it were the morning weather depicting sunny skies.

“Like, one hundred percent kind of convinced.” Max says, with a bit more sensitivity than Dustin is using with the recently criminalized man sulking in a boat.

You sigh, dropping the side of your head to the support beam you’re leaning against, only to feel Steve’s hand wrap around your wrist and tug it close enough to pour more trail mix into your palm, either as a distraction or apology, you welcome it either way.

“And the good news?” Eddie asks with a tired breath.

Robin is the one to answer. “Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But, if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out. Everyone and their shallow minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

Eddie’s eyes turn away. “Hunt the freak, right?”

“Exactly.” Robin says with no hesitation, though you can sense the regret in her voice.

Eddie curses, but Dustin attempts to make a futile attempt at a plan. “So before that happens, we find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

Steve nods beside you, as if the plan is fullprof, but doesn’t attempt to appear at all convinced when he catches your gaze.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie’s smile is forced and bitter.

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.”

“Listen, Eddie.” Robin spares him. “I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kinda thing before.”

You flick your eyes to Steve who offers an unenthusiastic nod, confirming her claims.

Robin rephrases. “I mean, they have. A few times. And I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based. Theirs was more smoke related. But- bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we’ve got this.”

Steve nods again, this time for more than just you. “Yeah, see, we’ve usually got this girl who has super powers. But, those went bye-bye, so…”

The look on your face but be incredulous, because he shrugs when he sees it, as if trying to weakly convince you it’s true.

“So, we’re technically in more of the…”

“In the brainstorming phase?” Max answers, sounding unsure herself.

“Brainstorming!” Steve smiles and snaps, agreeing.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin says, causing Steve to huff a laugh to brush it all off- only making you less confident of the situation than you were before.

Before the awkward conversation and failed reassurance can continue, sirens begin to go off outside, making everyone turn. In seconds, Eddie is hidden beneath the tarp again and the rest of you are posed by the windows.

A set of emergency vehicles drive past quickly, their lights and sirens on.

“What do you think they're going to?” You ask out loud, not sure if you’d even earn an answer to the question.

“Robbery?” Robin asks hopefully, though her voice is tense enough to suggest she knows better.

Dustin speaks what everyone’s thinking, even you. “Another victim.”

Listening to the sirens as they fade, you glance at each one of them, trying to figure out if you really do believe there stories- if you trust them enough to stay, or if you should run now.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Steve pushes away from the window, pulling his keys from his pocket and hurrying through the door.

Robin, Max, and Dustin follow quickly. For several seconds, you remain motionless, watching them retreat, listening to the car door open. You don’t have enough time to make your decision, to even catch your breath from the last hours of your life- and yet you willingly follow them.

Quickly, you rush to the door, Steve has just closed the driver side when you appear. When he sees you, he waves a hand to tell you to hurry. Robin, who had taken the passenger seat, tells the kids to move before she climbs into the back without getting out.

You get into the passenger seat as fast as you can, barely closing the door before Steve has reversed out of the driveway and begins to speed down the road to chase the cop cars and ambulance, but they’re too far ahead.

The road is a straight shot for a minute, but you soon pull up to a fork in the road, the emergency vehicles nowhere in sight, and the sirens echoing in every direction. Steve slows the car to a stop, cursing while Dustin’s voice cuts in with a mild complaint. You pay little attention to the argument starting between the four- instead reaching down to lower your window.

The sirens are fainter now, and you squint into the forest in either direction. On the right, you can make out the distant reflection of the lake, more trees past that, and on the left… You have to climb halfway out of the window, your arms against the rooftop of the car.

Steve notices first, his voice snapping from the argument and turning to you. “Hey, what are you-”

The red and blue flashing confirms what you had thought you’d seen. “There.” You point towards the left when you come to a fork in the road. “I can see the lights through the trees.”

“Got it, now get down!” Steve urges, a hand grasping your coat and holding onto you while you ease back into the car, trying not to slip.

Once you’re secured back into your seat, he sets off again, turning left and driving until you finally catch sight of the lights ahead.

“Shit.” Dustin groans as you get closer to the cars, a blockade and several people already on scene. “We’re late- they’ve already secured the scene. And now-”

Max hushes him, then opens her car door to be the first one out. Dustin and Robin follow. You climb out as Steve shuts off the car before stepping out himself. In the distance, you see another familiar face- one you hadn’t thought of since Highschool.

Nancy Wheeler is standing with a pair of officers, who seem to be questioning her. Her eyes land on the group, lingering on you for a few moments too long, and you wonder if she’s having the same thoughts as you. Why is she here?

“Is she…” You turn to Dustin who stands behind you, the car door held open. “Is she part of everything?”

He nods. “It started with Barb.”

“Barb?” You gasp, stomach dropping. “You mean, Barb was in on everything? They said she went missing?”

“She did…sort of?” He shakes his head, not elaborating.

Mind now muddied with the new information, that your friend had been involved is more troubling than anything else that they’ve told you so far. The girl you had spent days searching for, crying for- had not just gone missing but had been entangled in this.

You focus your eyes on the scene in front of you, attempting to make sense of it- to take your mind off of anything else, but it’s anything but comforting.

“A body.” You huff out, seeing the tarp being pulled over a mangled shape in the center of the road. “That’s fucking great.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs, shutting the car door. “Welcome to the shitstorm.”

The officers let Nancy go, and she immediately begins to walk in your direction. Her arms are crossed, eyes reddened. The group of you meet her halfway, you linger on the edge, unsure of your place in it all.

“What happened?” Dustin is the first to speak, but Nancy shakes her head and her eyes meet yours.

“Who’s this?”

The question makes you raise your brow, the calm accusation in her voice much too passive of the crime still standing in the street behind her. You give her your name, but she does nothing more than stare, scrutinizing your presence.

“She found Eddie.” Steve offers, which causes her eyes to snap to his, attention caught by Eddie’s mention.

“She found him-” Her eyes flick to you, then move back to Steve. “Forest Hills. There’s too many people here, we’ll talk there. Don’t let her go.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen Nancy, and you’ve never spoken to her before- but suddenly you understand the rumors or her too sweet personality being foraged. The entirety of Highschool you managed to never cross paths, and you believed the rumors to be made up by bored students. At least you had until the story about the Halloween party.

Now, you’re sure that they were onto something. She doesn’t even say goodbye, just turns and stalks towards her car across the street. Steve sighs, and gestures back towards his car, everyone else piling in already.

Biting your tongue, you climb back into your seat, closing the car door and letting the mild irritation dissipate.

The drive feels longer than it truly is, Nancy drives ahead, being the first one to pull into the trailer park. She parts a few yards from a set of picnic tables. When Steve parks, you sit for a moment in the car, hesitant to listen to more unpleasant occurrences happening in Hawkins.

You’re the last one to get out of the car, walking towards the picnic table and taking the only free seat, between Steve and Dustin. And directly across from Nancy. You try not to let the fact that she watches every move bother you.

The entire time that Nancy and the rest exchange stories, you remain silent. Soon, they let you speak, telling them how you had found Eddie and helping them explain Eddie’s experience.

“So you’re saying that, this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?” Nancy asks, processing what she’s been given.

“If the shoe fits.” Steve responds, and you hold back a snort.

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse.” Dustin begins to say, diving into what he and Eddie had concluded in the boathouse the prior night. “Now, wherever or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”

Before you can ask what a Mind Flayer is, Max speaks. “All we know is this is something different. Something new.”

Nancy shakes her head, her face pinched in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s only a theory.” Dustin is cut off.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense.” She looks up. “I mean… why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Even to you, Dustin’s idea seems weak.

“And near the trailer park.” Max says.

You look up, unsettled and meeting Steve’s eyes right before he speaks your mind. “We’re at the trailer park.”

“Should we maybe…” You look around, the entire place seemingly stilled. “Not be here?”

“There is something about this place.” Nancy speaks over you, and you manage not to roll your eyes. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin leans forward. “Acting weird as in…?”

“Scared.” Nancy continues. “On edge. Upset.”

The wind picks up, and you wrap your coat tighter around you, listening to her words and letting them settle.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too.” Dustin remembers, the dots connecting and revealing a little more at a time.

“Yeah, but not here.” She reverses the statement. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

Slowly, it clicks into place, your mind adapting to follow the clues and search for leads, eventually leading to one regulation. You have to shake the hesitation before you speak, push away the fear that you’ll be looked down upon if you’re wrong.

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” You say, looking at Steve for support before going on. “So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this…Vecman-”

“Vecna.” Dustin corrects.

Steve ignores him,scratching at his jaw with a sort of leisure, which eases the sting of your embarrassment. “I don’t know about you guys, but if I say some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Maybe they did.” Max nods. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms, Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you…you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you. But you might go to your-”

“Your shrink.” Robin finishes.

As if sharing one mind, everyone jumps into action. You stand from the table, heading towards the car, ready to follow your leads. Halfway to the car, you hear Steve’s voice calling after Nancy.

“Whoa, whoa. Nance. Nance!” He attempts to stop her before she can get further. “Nance, where are you going?”

She turns, a look on her face that tells you she’d rather not tell him- let alone anyone else standing here. “Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She keeps walking, trying to ignore his pressing.

“Something you wanna share with the rest of us?” You ask without thinking, earning a narrowed look from her and a nod of agreement from Dustin.

“I don’t wanna waste your time.” She says to Steve. “It’s a real shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, okay, are you out of your mind?” He asks, his voice taking an edge. “Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose?”

You lean towards Robin, keeping your voice low. “Isn’t she dating the Byers boy?” Robin snorts, and you fight a smile while Steve keeps talking.

“No. It’s too dangerous. You need someone to…” He taps his fingers against his leg, then turns and tosses his car keys to Robin. “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance, Alright? You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”

Robin scoffs softly and gestures to his car with the keys. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t have a license.” She says as if it were obvious, the keys jingling in her hands as she moves her arms.

“Why don’t you have a license?” He asks, almost offended by her admission.

“I’m poor.” The answer is simple enough.

Max chimes in all too eagerly. “I can drive-”

“No!” Steve’s reaction is immediate, complete with horror and an accusatory finger. “Never again- Please, anybody but you. No.”

Dustin makes a face, as if suggesting he could drive and Steve quickly denies him as well. You don’t even make an attempt, though you’re likely the only other capable driver here.

“Alright, okay. This is stupid.” Robin reaches into Dustin’s backpack, pulling the second Walkie-Talkie from the pocket before stalking towards Nancy. “Us ladies will stick together. Unless, you think we need you to protect us?”

Steve answers with a tight lipped and fake smile, obviously upset by the way she’d handled the situation. Nancy shrugs and turns her back, following Robin to her car.

“Be careful.” Steve raises his voice towards them, Robin raising a peace sign aim response.

“Just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin asks, pulling Steve’s attention away from the retreating pair of girls.

“Shut up.” He turns back to the car, walking towards the driver side.

Dustin presses more, for his own amusement. “Why don’t we go? Okay?”

“Shut up and get in the car.” Steve tells him again, walking past Max as she climbs into the backseat. “And wipe your feet.”

Dustin stares straight at him, sticking his leg into the car and wiping his dirty shoes on the floorboard, pissing Steve off further.

“Are they always like this?” You ask Max, sitting in the back with her while Steve yells at Dustin in the front.

She nods. “All the time.”

Steve begins to drive, and not then minutes down the road, the crackling sound of the radio brings to echo through the car- a voice filtering through desperately.

“Lucas?” Dustin scrambles for the radio, answering as fast as he can. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Just listen.” The boy on the other end pleads, sounding no less anxious. “Are you guys looking for Eddie?”

Dustin clicks the button. “We found him, no thanks to you.”

“You found him?” The static becomes thicker and thinner between words.

“A boathouse on Lipton Road.”

“My boathouse.” You say to no one in particular, not earning an answer.

“Don’t worry, he’s safe.” Dustin continues.

“You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?” The tone he takes is more aggressive, betrayal laced.

“That’s bullshit.” Dustin argues. “Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas is quick to answer. “Then why do all the cops say he did it?”

Before Dustin can reply, Max reaches across the seat and takes the radio from his hands, raising it to speak. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school- we’ll explain later.”

“I can’t.” He sighs. “I think some real bad shits about to go down.”

She frowns. “What are you talking about? What bad shit?”

Static. He doesn’t answer, not even when Max calls his name a few times in hopes of a response. She continues to try, until eventually giving up, and in less than twenty minutes, you’re in the middle of a neighborhood.

The therapist's house is just like any other, placed on a suburban lawn with equally as quaint neighbors. You’d never suspect that a Highschool student was about to steal the key to confidential information from a school official for the sake of ending the terror of some Vecna monster.

From the car, you watch as Max rings the doorbell and Ms. Kelley answers. They speak for a miner before she allows Max inside, closing the door behind them.

“Okay, she’s in.” Steve says.

Dustin, still not over their spat at the trailer park, spits back with annoyance. “I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, bewildered.

“So,” His voice takes a more serious tone, forgoing the question you ask. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Steve looks away from the house to finally glance at him. “Sorry, talk about what?”

Dustin’s eyes widen, he raises his brows as he speaks. “You’re temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance?”

You huff out a laugh, settling in to hear the conversation, giving it your full attention.

“First of all, that’s not what happened.” Steve narrows his eyes at Dustin, not expecting it when you are the one to answer.

“Pretty sure that’s what happened.” You offer a sheepish smile when he gives you a look.

Dustin readily agrees with you. “It was public, there were a lot of witnesses.”

“Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance?” Steve acts offended with the slight suggestion.

“No, he’s not implying.” You can’t hide the smile that spreads on your face, though it’s born of the enjoyment you take in the drama.

“I’m stating.” Dustin adds. “And, as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Robin, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.”

“That’s not the only one.” Steve doesn’t hesitate, and it results in a barked laugh you can’t stifle, realizing that Dustin doesn’t have a clue. “And as for Nance- I was just trying to protect a friend. A friend, Henderson. Okay?”

“Okay.” He relents, but the disbelief is evident in his tone and demeanor.

“I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep-“

Dustin speaks through a short burst of laughter. “You’re like, bright red in the face right now-”

“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-”

“Whoa.” You cringe.

“Too far.” Dustin frowns at Steve, and your gaze moves between them, watching the guilt settle into Steve’s eyes.

“Not cool. Sorry.” Steve apologizes.

Dustin accepts it immediately, the tension easing just slightly. “Not cool. It’s okay.”

And as most men do, they settle it over a fist bump, which only makes you laugh again to yourself in slight disbelief. But before you can fall back into conversation, Steve looks out the window just as Max begins to walk out and rushes to the car. “Here she comes, here she comes.”

She climbs in quickly, ordering Steve to drive, yelling at him when he doesn’t quickly enough. He starts the car and speeds off, the movement pressing you into the back of your seat and squealing coming from the tires.

[djosfavewig]

EHEHEHEEHEHEEEEE

BLACK CORVETTE MASTERLIST

All current and future works are considered mature and are MDNI. Please read responsibly.

STRANGER THINGS:

Own My Mind (Steve Harrington x Reader) (Eddie Munson x Reader)

-1- -2- (More coming soon)

[djosfavewig]

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: This is my attempt at writing a not so slow burn, self insert romance. I can’t stop thinking about Eddie or Steve and this is all done in fear of what Season Five will look like…Hopefully some people will find this little story entertaining. :’) Special thanks to my favorite editor, @djosfavewig.

The creaking is normal. There’s always odd sounds in here, dripping water and old wooden floorboards. The room is always dusty, making your throat itch if you stay too long. The smell of lake water and rust is faint in the air, overpowered by the scent of mothballs nested in old tarps.

It’s routine, every few weeks you’d come to the lake and check the lake house, one of the few properties your father had trusted you to keep up with. The tasks are simple, ask the tenant if repairs are needed, check the water heater that always seems to need replacing, and make sure no one’s broken into the boat house.

Rick hadn’t answered the door, but the tenant is known to disappear for weeks at a time- whether because he’s sleeping on someone’s couch or has been caught again. You brushed off his absence, then made your way to the boat house.

And yes the creaking is normal, it’s always been there, but the fresh footprints of wet mud on the floor have not been.

Holding your breath, you listen, eyes darting back and forth through the room in search of something else unusual. Thank fuck that you dad insisted on keeping the boathouse for himself, because that means his collection of tools are kept here awaiting use.

Slowly, you reach towards the wall, wrapping your hand around the worn wooden handle of a machete. The blade had been used to cut underbrush and thick weeds and shrubs when you dad bought the property- since then it’s been hun on the wall with the rest of the landscaping equipment. It used to make you nervous, how he would swing it so easily, how with one wrong move it could become fatal. And now, it’s the most comforting object you’ve ever held.

Holding your breath, you shift your weight, keeping light on your feet as you listen for odd noises, following the trail of footprints and mud. A few long minutes, your hair standing on end, but not a single disturbance.

The machete is perched on your shoulder, the blunt side against your shirt and the sharp edge away from you. You’ve just begun to lower it, to tell yourself that your mind is playing tricks after a long day- but then you hear it.

Shuffling, the sound of a paper bag-

A standing shelf crashes to the ground a few feet away- glass shattering and metal clattering across the floor. Some is sent into the water, splashing as you scream and jump back- another voice yelling even louder over yours.

“Fucking- shit bag!”

The machete arches through the air, you raise it above your head, eyes landing on the source of the chaos. A dark head of curls, messy and obscuring their face in the already dim light. But you’d recognize him anywhere.

“What the fuck?” You speak without thinking, hands tight around your weapon as he raises his hands and stares at you with wide eyes.

“Hold on- hold on!” He steps back, the light of the window now illuminating his face, Eddie Munson’s fase. “Give me a second, just don’t kill me.”

You keep the machete raised, swallowing down your surprise. “What are you doing here?!”

“Nothing!” He matches your tone, with hushed terror and fear in his voice as he repeats himself. “Nothing. Hiding? I don’t fucking know?”

A strangled laugh, your teeth clenched together. “You can’t be here- this is private property. I’m going call the-”

“No.” He steps closer, making you lean back and raise the weapon an inch higher. “Don’t call anyone-”

“So what? I’m supposed to let you squat in my garage?” You raise your voice and his eyes widen more, darting towards the window. “Get the hell out of here before-”

“Please!” He says in a shushed voice. “Look, I can’t explain but I can’t leave.”

“This is illegal- you’re trespassing-”

He says your name, still cursing in exasperation.

“-Oh, fucking come on. It’s not like you’re a law abiding citizen-” He gestures towards the machete- but you’ve already been frozen in place by his words.

“How…”

“What? You don’t remember buying weed from me? Four premade blunts-”

“That was my cousin, dipshit.”

“Look-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, pointing the weapon at him, earning a thin glare. “You just need to leave. You can’t stay here, I’m not your friend.”

“I can’t leave.” He stresses the words, pushing hair away from his face, exposing just how red his eyes actually are.

Not from drugs, you’d recognize that immediately after the summers you’ve spent with your risk loving cousin. These are the red eyes of tears, forced back even now. You notice the streaks down his face, as if he’d been crying for the duration of his time in the boat house.

It pricks at your sense of guilt, making your fingers loosen on the machete just enough to bring it down. You bite your tongue, thinking over your words before you demand an explanation from the man in front of you.

“Why?”

“Why?” He swallows, shoulders tense and his hands flexing in and out of fists by his sides, anxiety pouring off of him in waves. “I…can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” You take the moment to evaluate yourself, trying to weigh whether or not he’s worth your time. “Because I’m not going to let you stay here without a reason. A good reason.”

“You won’t believe me.” His hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots as tears begin to spring back into his eyes. “I can’t fucking leave, but you won’t…fuck. You’ll think I’m fucking crazy.”

“Just fucking tell-”

Yelling outside makes you jump, already unnerved before they start. Eddie curses, and when you look at him, he grabs your wrist and tugs the machete out of your hand, throwing it into the pile of junk on the floor.

“Hide.” He drags you to a corner, and your too shocked to fight him.

“What do you mean, hide?” You ask, snatching your arm away from him, eyes darting around for another weapon.

“Just hide.” He pushes you behind a shelf, then turns and climbs into the boat, pulling the tarp over him.

“Eddie-”

“Shut up.”

A beam of light, brighter than the moonlight in the sky, cuts through the room. And for some reason Eddie’s fear has seeped into your body, urging you to listen. It’s why you sink low to the ground, mouth shut tight and breathing as quietly as you can muster. More yelling, then the harsh banging of fists against a door. Then, it’s quiet.

Before you can move, the light becomes brighter, multiple beams from flashlights flooding into the boathouse and you’re biting your lips together in an attempt to disappear in the silence.

The door opens, and you catch the yellow of the porchlight you had failed to turn off.

“Hello?” A soft feminine voice, you strain to put a face to it, but come up empty. “…Is anyone home?”

Footsteps sound, multiple sets filing into the small space. The flashlights skirt over every wall, shining for prolonged moments over different corners and angles. Your heart is racing already, but it threatens to fail when one beam of light shines directly on your hiding spot, less than a foot above your head where the shelf ends. You press a hand to your mouth, squeezing your eyes tight and hoping that you won’t be heard.

Another flashlight across the room clicks off, and the one above you finally moves away

A voice you recognize covers the sound of your labored breathing once you’re sure the person near you has moved far enough away to remove your hand. “What a dump.”

Steve Harrington.

A graduate from your year, even a student in a few of your classes- now here, in your boathouse looking for…looking for Eddie.

Through the footsteps, you hear the sound of something being taken off the wall. Then the nerve wracking sound of something plastic being jabbed at. It clicks near immediately that it’s the tarp.

“What are you doing?” Another voice, younger this time, one you don’t recognize. They repeat themselves after more jabbing, more annoyed than the first time. “What are you doing?”

“He might be in there.” Steve confirms your suspicions, which only makes you clench your teeth and take deep breaths to combat sudden anxiety- as if Eddie had pulled you into his own spiral of insanity that led him here.

“So take the tarp off.” The younger voice says.

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” The jabbing becomes more aggressive, and you flinch with each hit- fearing the one that will reveal Eddie’s hiding spot.

“Hey, look over here.” The floor creaks on the other side of the room and a second younger voice calls out, another girl. “Someone was here.”

The first female voice replies, both seeming indifferent to Steve attacking the boat. “Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran.”

Part of you wishes that he did run, instead of keeping you trapped in here as if this was all your problem as well. Hiding like a criminal in your own space, not knowing the crimes committed.

“Don’t worry!” The young male voice says, sarcasm dripping with every word. “Steve will get him with his oar.”

“I know you think you're being funny,” More tarp assault even while he talks. “But considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times. Personally, I don’t find it funny in the slightest-”

The loud crinkling of the tarp and jostle of the boat, followed by Steve’s startled yelling. He begins to plead, repeating the word wait- and you can no longer sit in your corner.

Just in time, you stand form your position and rush out from behind the shelf in time to see Eddie pin Steve to the wall- something pressed against his neck.

“Eddie! Eddie- Stop!” A boy, a few years younger than you yells. It catches the attention of Eddie, but he doesn’t release Steve- instead keeping his grip tight on what you’ve now identified as the broken neck of a beer bottle. “Eddie, it’s me. It’s Dustin. This is Steve- he’s not going to hurt you, right Steve?”

The boy, Dustin, gestures toward Steve, who attempts to nod but stops when the glass presses further into his throat, instead settling to answer verbally. “Right. Yeah.”

“Steve,” Dustin directs slowly. “Why don’t you drop the oar?”

Steve obliges, the wood clattering to the floor, which only leads to Eddie pushing the glass harder against his skin and causing Steve to wince and press himself further against the wall.

“He’s cool!” Dustin attempts to reason with the man. “He’s cool.”

Steve follows along, his hands still in the air in surrender. “I’m cool, man. I’m cool.”

Eddie’s eyes don’t leave Steve’s face, his voice taking a tone he hadn’t used with you when you’d found him minutes ago on your own. More dangerous, desperate to gain control of the situation. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for you!” Dustin says, staying planted in his spot, no one dares to move more than they have to. No one has yet to see you. “We’re here to help. Eddie, these are my friends.”

He points behind him, to the older girl, your age and then the younger one. “You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.”

Max waves a hand in a tense manner.

“Eddie, we’re on your side.” He is trying to focus the attention on himself, on removing the danger. “I swear on my mother. Right guys?”

“Yes- Yes, we swear.” Max nods.

Robin follows. “On Dustin’s mother.”

A still very trapped and very rattled Steve nods as much as he can. “Yeah, on Dustin’s…Dustin’s mother.”

Everything is silent, except for the sound of your heart in your ears and the drip of water. Eddie glares at Steve all the while, and Steve keeps as still as possible- everyone else holding their breath until finally Eddie releases him.

Steve moves, holding his throat and trying to calm himself down after the threats. Robin and Max hang back with him, while Dustin keeps with Eddie, who’s now pressed against a wall and sinking to the ground defeatedly.

Slowly, you make your appearance known. Stepping away from the corner of the room, though you want to stay hidden for longer.

The first person to see you is Steve. His hand is still around his neck, rubbing the raw skin as his eyes catch your movement. He narrows his eyes, confused, but keeps quiet as Dustin speaks to Eddie, who’s still clutching the broken glass.

“We just want to talk.” Dustin’s voice is softer now, as he attempts to take Eddie’s makeshift weapon. Eddie flinches, keeping it away from Dustin when he tries to touch it. “Okay?”

Robin moves closer, kneeling to the ground beside them both, Max standing close behind her with a flashlight shining on them all. “We want to know what happened.”

“You won’t believe me.” Eddie echoes his earlier concerns, and it strikes you like fire. You had thought maybe he had said that in order to stay- but now it sounds like utter truth.

It’s just you and Steve, standing a few feet away from the four of them. And now you manage a better look, seeing the confusion in his eyes clearly, and the hesitation in his quiet- as if he’d betray your presence at any moment, but you’ve not yet given him a reason to.

And for the extra moments of secrecy, your grateful. It gives you time to think, to prepare. And once you hear Max speak two words- you know that you need those moments.

“Try us.”

====

Eddie’s story is something of a nightmare- sick and demented enough to sound fictional, but the terror and darkness in his eyes, the tears that threaten to spill tell you it’s nothing but the honesty of a tragedy.

“Her body just, like, lifted up into the air and..” Eddie sighs, eyes distant as he explains what had happened to Chrissy in the trailer the night before. “And she just hung there. In the air… And her bones…”

He closes his eyes, pain laced in the action, conveying everything he can’t say with a formed word. Everyone watches, listens to the trepidation, and Eddie sits there in silent agony.

“Her bones started to snap.” His expressions mirror his fear, born of anger. “Her eyes, man. It…it was like there was something inside her head, pulling. I-”

The cracking of his voice is what moves you forward, your hand settling on his back in an effort to comfort something that can not be soothed.

“I didn’t know what to do, so I…” Every word eats him up, tearing away any sense of ease and replacing it with what you know is nothing but grief and deep cemented unrest. “I ran away. I left her there.”

His eyes, having been unfocused and distant from the beginning of his story, now shake and focus on the people in front of him. He finally looks at them, seeing their own expressions before turning his head and scoffing to himself- a defeated sound.

“You all think I’m crazy, right?” He drops his head into a hand, rings glinting in the light.

“No. We don’t think you’re crazy.” Dustin says, almost begging him to believe.

“Don’t bullshit me, man!” Eddie’s voice raises, the pitch reciting his emotions. “I know how this sounds.”

He begins to cry again, and you press your hand firmer to his back, hoping the weight of it will help ground him, if not take away any pain.

“We’re not bullshitting you.” Max says, her voice stern and serious.

Robin agrees, leaning just a bit forward. “We believe you.”

Eddie takes a deep breath, forcing it out sharply, his ribs expanding and contracting against your touch with the motion. And though you don’t know, you can’t even form the words to explain, something in you can’t help but believe everything he tells you all.

“Look.” Dustin says. “What I’m about to tell you might be a little…difficult to take in.”

His eyes, the girls, and Steve’s all land on you, as if you were an afterthought now brought to the forefront of their minds. You hadn’t spoken once since they’d finally realized your presence- but they hadn’t protested when you sat with them to listen to Eddie- they don’t attempt to force you out now.

“You know how people say Hawkins is…”

You finally use your voice, finishing the theory you’ve heard from dozens of people, the stories all returning now. “Cursed?”

Dustin moves his head side to side, as if weighing his choices. “There not…way off.”

His eyes flick between you and Eddie, and a sudden feeling of dread turns your stomach to lead, sinking low and making you feel sick.

“There’s another world.”

It should be amusing, maybe annoying what he begins to say. Like a story over a campfire, a tall tale someone uses to scare you for their own fun, but it’s not funny or anything- it’s just sickening.

“A world hidden beneath Hawkins.”

Your hand slips off of Eddie’s back, falling to your lap as you clutch them both into fists.

“Sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

In search of familiarity, your eyes dart towards Steve. He’s watching you already, his eyes exposing what you had hoped you wouldn’t see- they are dark and somber, already knowing what Dustin is saying, eyes that tell you he had witnessed it himself.

Eddie’s voice is clearer than before, tears having stalled. “Like ghosts and shit?”

Max answers before Dustin, proving her place in all this mess. “There are some things worse than ghosts.”

“These monsters, from this other world, we thought they were gone.” Dustin continues, speaking carefully. “But they’ve come back before. That's why we needed to find you.”

Max nods, solem. “If they’re back again, we need to know.”

Running a hand over your face, you realize that you're trembling- a response you hadn’t even been aware of. It makes you shake harder, folding your hands together to attempt to hide it.

“That night,” Robin asks. “Did you see anything?”

Max speaks next. “Dark particles, maybe?”

Eddie’s head is shaking, not enough to deny their questions, but showing his uneasiness.

“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust.” Dustin urges, searching for an answer.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or touch.” Eddie shakes his head with a purpose now, actively denying. “You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn’t move. It was like she was in a trance or something-”

“Or under a spell-” Dustin says, eyes widened a bit, and finally Eddie reacts.

“A curse.” His dark gaze holds something of substance, of understanding.

It catches Dustin as well, his back straight if just enough to show. “Vecna’s Curse.”

Frowning, you look to see if any of the others understand what you don’t, but Robin and Max have similar confusion in your eyes and Steve, he asks for you all. “Who’s Vecna?”

Dustin doesn’t turn, his eyes still locked on Eddie’s, sharing unspoken thoughts and harboring immense fear. “An undead creature of great power.”

“A spell caster.” Eddie says.

“A dark wizard.” Dustin finishes, his fear having laced into his voice.

And now, the fear has burrowed into your bones, infiltrating your every sense. Because now, you have no other escape.

Now, you can’t escape.