The Monster
Lucas' house is farther than you remember. Typically making the journey on bike had disillusioned you on how much of a walk it is. Especially with the throbbing ache in your leg.
You skirt the edge of the woods. Mirkwood the boys call it. You smile as you remember reading The Hobbit with Dustin. It had been not long after you had moved, he had opened up to you about how difficult it had been for him when they'd moved not long ago. About how small things changed when his dad left. How your mom had to work so much more; she wasn't around to play her music and read Dustin stories. He felt childish to be missing her when she was doing everything for him to have a good life. But you understood. So you started reading The Hobbit to him.
You missed the Great Greenwood that these trees were at home. Here, it truly was the dark and foreboding Mirkwood from Bilbo's stories. You just hoped there weren't any giant spiders coming to get you.
Your thoughts are cut off by screams cutting through the thick air like knives. You spin trying to locate the sound whilst your pulse rushes past your ears.
"JONATHAN!" screams the voice.
As in Will's Jonathan? You can't help but wonder. You rush towards the voice, leg be damned, you had ventured out of that bathroom for Will after all.
You freeze. The monster is here, feasting on something too big to be a person. You try to back away, but it sees you. The huge mouth that comprises his face lets out an otherwordly roar. The message, though, is oddly Animal Kingdom: 'stay away from my food'.
You continue to back off, and start running. Where to, you aren't sure. Just away. Again.
Then you find the source of the screams, and it's not Will. It's Nancy. Nancy who pretty much never had anything to do with Jonathan. Nancy who thought him weird for being so much of a loner. Who wasn't sure about you at first because you had the same band t-shirts as him; and she had heard the rumours about how he was a creep.
Now they were, wherever here is, together?
"Nancy?" her eyes widen in shock.
"Where's Barb?" Your stomach drops with guilt. All you can manage is the shake of your head.
Tears immediately fill Nancy's eyes, but there's no time for much else.
"How did you get here - we need to find a way out."
"Nancy!" Jonathan's voice sounds far away.
"Is that -"
Nancy just nods.
"Follow my voice!"
So you scramble around the undergrowth until you see it. A putrid tree with rotten insides. Of course you'd have to go through that.
"There couldn't have just been a door?" you mumble, before pushing Nancy through first, and then holding onto her ankle like a lifeline as you scamble through the damp and the dark.
Then the air clears, it is still dark, but the woods smell like earth and twigs. They are alive. You are alive.
You barely even notice Nancy and Jonathan hugging and clutching onto one another. The euphoria of being alive is enough for you.
In the shower at the Wheeler's house, however, that feeling quickly dissipates. Your hair is a congealed mess that takes a lot of persuading to come clean. The wound on your leg looks terrible. You clean it with water and after the shower find some disinfectant and struggle to bandage it.
As you're taking some painkillers, you're reminded how thirsty you are. And how hungry. And tired. All you want to do is sleep.
Leaning against the bathroom door, you're transported back there. I'm still it's prey, you think, certain that the monster still knows where you are.
Sighing, you leave the bathroom. You can hear Ted watching the TV and Karen putting Holly to bed. All you can see is their empty house in that other place.
You sneak into the kitchen and scrounge some snacks. You've been Nancy's best friend long enough to know where the good stuff is.
When you return to Nancy's room, Jonathan is setting up the bed roll. You collapse onto Nancy's bed and dive straight into the oatmeal cookies you found. I miss proper biscuits, I would kill for a Jammie Dodger right now.
Jonathan is looking at you funny.
"I'll make them some more," you say, offering him one.
He smiles and accepts, "you look weird in her clothes," he says.
You're half sure he's trying to be friendly, but you don't know what to say. But you also don't care, you're just glad to be back around people. Not knowing what to say was, perhaps for the first time, a nice feeling - because at least it meant you were back to normality.
When Nancy appears, she sits down next to you, and says, "What happened to Barb?"
The normality crashes away.
"What do you think?" You know it's a bit harsh, but also Nancy left you. And she had seen that thing.
Her eyes were so full of so many different emotions that you didn't know what to say. There was a guilt in there, for sure, but there was something else too. You didn't like that you couldn't name what it was.
"She was my best friend," Nancy says softly, "I know you're tired, but please."
"Please what?" Your voice is harsh, "she's dead Nance, I tried to save her okay, but I couldn't even bandage her hand properly. Then that thing came, and I tried to save her. I really tried. I was holding onto her so tight, she was right there" your eyes fill with hot tears.
You realise you're angry. Mostly with yourself, but as Nancy looks at you, like she wants to forgive you, you feel the rage duplicate to be directed at her too.
"This isn't your fault, Y/N," her voice is soft and she reaches out to you. A part of you know that she believes what she's saying. And a part of you know that's because it's partly her fault. You and Barb wouldn't have been out there if it weren't for her.
But also you can't blame her. It's not her fault. Not anymore than it is yours.
You shake your head, the exhaustion in your bones makes everything heavy.
"I can't do this right now. I need to go home," you're vaguely aware you're crying, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I just can't be around you right now."
"Okay."
As you go to the door, Jonathan crosses the room to sit beside Nancy. He wraps an arm around her. The message is clear, he'll look after her for you. But he will also protect her, and you get the weird feeling that you're somewhere on the list of things he will protect her from.
"Thanks for the cookies," you say as you stumble out the house.
You're properly crying now. Somewhere, you're surprised there's enough fluids in your body to even be making tears. But you're mostly consumed by memories of Barb, her ghost fills the hallways of the Wheeler's house.
As you step outside, you take a deep, albeit shaky, breath of the cool night air.
A thud makes you flinch and turn. Steve Harrington is staring at you like a deer in headlights. His eyes are full of hurt. It takes you a second to piece two and two together: he's seen Jonathan in Nancy's room.
"Dude, it's really not what you think."
He approaches you, his expression melding from hurt to concern before settling on some kind of indifference. His eyes leap out at you like a performer's behind a mask.
Once he's close enough to see that you're crying he asks what happened. His voice is oddly soft. Like he cares.
For the second time that night, you don't know what to say. You don't particularly care about Steve Harrington's feelings on the best of days. But Nancy, she's been through enough for one night.
"Aren't you supposed to be missing?" he asks.
"I got better?" you're not sure joking is the right approach.
"Nance was really worried about you," his eyes flicker back to the house, his anger isn't gone, but neither is the concern, "are you okay?"
You realise it's the first time someone's asked you that in a long time. Let alone, Steve Harrington, who has a habit of making your life more difficult. He rests a hand on your shoulder, the weight of it is reassuring until you're reminded who the hand belongs to.
"Since when did you care about me Harrington?" you ask, "if you're only capable of empathy when a pretty girl is involved, you might need to go see a shrink."
"I never said you were pretty," he scoffed.
You raise an eyebrow, "I was talking about Nancy."
You turn and begin to walk home, hoping the limp in your step isn't too obvious.
He keeps up with you easily, "what is she doing with Byers?"
"He just knows me pretty well, our brothers are friends, so he helped her find me, okay? It's really not that deep."
"Not that deep? Byers is in bed with my girlfriend, Y/N!" he exclaims. You've reached his car, Tommy and Carol burst into giggles when they hear Steve's raised voice.
You realise that whatever chance you might have had of convincing Steve that nothing was wrong with his relationship had just evaporated. Those two were poison. And they'd never let Steve live it down.
I must be tired if I'm feeling bad for King Steve about his own choice in friends, you think to yourself.
The two of them start pestering Steve for what happened as he loops round to the drivers door. His eyes are locked with yours until he disappears behind the frame of the car.
You begin to stumble home.
"Have they always walked with a limp?" Tommy asks.
"Like a zombie," laughs Carol.
Steve's eyes follow you in his rearview mirror until the car is out of sight.
- - - -
The familiarity of your house welcomes you with open arms. You head straight for the kitchen and find yourself something to eat. An actual hot meal.
All you do it pour some tinned tomatoes over pasta but its enough. Mews is rubbing round your ankles and purring. You scoop her up in your arms, nuzzling your face into her fluff.
You're home.
You make your way to bed and collapse into it.
Dustin is in it. He promptly bursts into tears. Neither of you speak for a minute, he sits up and moves down the bed whilst you sink into the duvet, letting the pillow cradle your head.
"Don't ever do that again," Dustin says, "I was so angry at you for not being here when they found Will's body. And then Eleven found out you were in the Upside Down. Then I thought you were dead. And Mike's being useless and."
"Hold on, they found Will's body?"
"They found a body, I don't think it's him?"
"Why not?"
As you finally relax into your bed he tells you about how Eleven had tracked you and Will down in the Upside Down.
"I'm sorry Dustin. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm safe now," you rustle his hair.
"Mike's always been the useless sibling," you smile at Dustin's frown, "come on, you know Nancy is my best friend. But, come on, what's he done now?"
He explains how Mike's going against Lucas about Eleven. How none of them really know the truth.
"I think Eleven means well," you say softly, "but what do you think?"
"I think we need her. Even if we aren't sure about her yet, we need her on our side if we are going to go after the Demogorgon."
So the monster has a name.
"What's the rule of your Party?"
"Whoever hits first has to shake."
"Then I think you know how to fix this, little brother."
After Dustin leaves you roll over. Whoever hits first. Somehow that rule doesn't seem to fix the weird tension you felt with Nancy, neither of you hit first.
Steve hit first, says the voice in your head, when you moved here. And now he seems legitamately concerned for you.
"He asked us if we were okay, one time, so he could get information on his girlfriend who he was just watching through the window," you exasperatedly tell the empty room.
- - - -
The next morning, your alarm goes off for your shift at Breaking Records. Even after spending time in the Upside Down, hiding from what is apparently known by everyone else as the Demogorgon, the fear of being late for work is enough to pull you from your bed.
Not that you had had an exactly pleasant sleep.
The morning shift on a Saturday is not so bad. Regulars come and go. You chat to some of them for a little while about new releases. The normality of it is enjoyable.
Eddie Munson comes in, having finally put enough money aside for Slayer's new album. He mentions not having seen you around school, but you manage to laugh it off, especially when he hands you a pile of quarters to pay.
As you clock out, you debate where to head to next. You know you should see Nancy. Knowing her, she will have spent all night coming up with a crazy plan.
In your head you see Jonathan's face from when you had left last night. You wondered if you would still be a part of any plan Nancy makes.
This question evaporates from your mind when you see the cinema.
All The Right Moves Starring Nancy The Slut Wheeler.
You start to rush over, until your eyes land on her. Her hands cover a face of sadness, confusion, and an anger coming to boil.
She doesn't see you. Instead she heads to an alleyway. You hurry to keep up with her, the pain in your leg dulled for now by paracetamol.
You reach the end of the alleyway in time to here the SLAP of Nanc'y hand across Steve's face.
"What is wrong with you?" she demands.
"What's wrong with you I can't believe that I was actually worried about you."
"You came by last night," her voice sinks from anger to something else. She knows she's trapped, even if she did nothing wrong.
"Ding ding ding ding! Does she get a prize?" Carol's voice grates on your skull.
"It wasnt like that," Nancy insists.
"What he just came round to help you study," his voice drips with innuendo. You can feel the underlying betrayl though. Nancy had told you about their study sessions, how Steve had always been really trying to help.
"Nah another Pervy photo session," says Tommy.
"We were just -"
"What. You were just what? Finish the sentence," Steve challenges her. His voice is soft and you can feel his anger. But there is a glimpse of something else too. Of a chance, that if she comes up with something believable maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to feel this sadness.
"I told you last night," you step in, "the three of us are friends. You have this all wrong."
"Why would someone be friends with that creep?" says Tommy.
Steve shakes his head, "then why were you crying when you left."
You bit your lip, there was a good answer for that. But not for him.
Nancy looks like she's getting ready to hit Steve again, or cry, or maybe both. Jonathan puts an arm around her and they begin to walk away.
"You going to just let them leave?" asks Carol.
Steve's demeanour changes, "You know what Byers, I'm actually kinda impressed. I always thought you were a queer but I gues you're just a screw up like your father.
Everything is moving in slow motion. This is all so unimportant. You see Jonathan get ready to swing a punch. You see Tommy and Carol get ready to cheer the fight on. Cowards.
You grab Steve shoulder, just like he had held yours last night.
"Don't do this, Steve," you say, knowing Nancy was smart enough to keep leaving.
Your eyes meet again, and you see everything he's feeling. He's being left, chosen over for someone that he doesn't understand. And he's afraid and angry. He pushes against you.
Again, you think of how unimportant it is. So what Jonathan was in a room with Nancy? So what if even Nancy did cheat? There was a kid missing, you'd spent a few days in an alternate dimension.
So you shoved him against the wall. Instinctively he shoves you back. There's lots of shouting of words you don't really hear.
Which is when Jonathan steps in. The two of them struggle. Steve takes a step back after a particularly strong punch. Tommy tries to step in, "Hey! Hey! Tommy get out of here man!"
Interesting, the bare minimum of decency.
Jonathan has pushed Steve to the ground and is hitting him, again, and again. Nancy is trying to get Jonathan to stop.
You realise none of Steve's friends are going to help him now that he's losing.
You grab Jonathan under the arms, "Come on man, he's not important."
Wailing sirens cut through the racous shouting.
"Cops!" shouts one of Steve's shitty friends. It's enough to bring Jonathan back to you. He stumbles over to Nancy who pulls him away.
Steve's friends are all gone. You sigh and pull him to his feet before dragging him by the hand down the alleyway.
You shove him into the entrance to some side-door and squeeze in next to him. He looks like shit. Blood drips onto his left eye, he doesn't look angry, he looks regretful. And confused. You wipe the blood from his face with your sleeve.
"Why are you helping me?"
"I'm not, the cops just don't need to be involved," you look at his face again, "you deserved that. Maybe next time you should listen to me."
He stares at you. The doorway you lean under is small, you're not touching but you can feel his breath on your face. He looks lost, like a puppy; if you didn't hate him so much, you'd feel bad for him
"I only came round last night because I wanted to help her. I still just want to help."
"You want to help so you called her friend a queer and a screw up?"
His face falls, "I did say that, didn't I? Shit. I keep fucking everything up. Tommy says it's my fault she cheated on me."
You give him a look. This guy. How many times do I have to tell him?
"Okay, fine, whatever, he says that if she had cheated on me it would have been my fault."
"They're shit friends Harrington."
The sirens have faded and you begin to walk away.