Chapter Text
January 8, 1984
Nancy stood outside of Steve’s backyard.This time at night instead of broad daylight. The cold air chilled her, making her heart feel as though it were a heavy chunk of ice resting static in her rib cage instead of it’s natural pulsing state. Her freezing breath came out in rapid exhalations, evidently causing the cloud of gray vapor that obscured her vision. Cautiously turning her back, she desperately searched for any sign of movement or light from Steve’s house, but there wasn’t any. It didn’t take her long to realize that aside from being completely in the dark, she was alone.
The mere thought had her running towards the driveway, forcing her to cut through the entire expanse of the Harrington’s yard. She tried not to look to her right but inevitably, her footsteps slowed while passing the pool. The water was crystal clear, the sort of blue that you’d expect on a tropical island shore. Definitely not during the winter in Indiana’s deciduous forests. In addition to its unusual coloring, the pool was the only source of light in what seemed to be a mile radius, heavily contrasting with the darkness that seemed to want to swallow her whole. It’s luminescent glow captivated Nancy, forcing her feet to remain grounded despite her growing feeling of dread.
The longer she looked into it’s depths, studying the subtle ripples caused by the cool gusts of wind, the closer she felt herself getting to it. Her breath hitched when she saw bubble forming on its surface. Instead of being clear and glassy, they were blood red and expanding as if they were simmering in a boil. As they erupted, the mass of bubbles created a crescendo of sounds similar to lava forming.
Nancy cursed inwardly only because her tongue was caught in the back of her throat, useless in sight of what she was witnessing. To her horror, she watched motionless as something began to surface among the sickening scarlet globules. At first it was only a finger, then two, and before she could turn and sprint away, and entire hand was emerging from the pool, fingers curled as though whatever it was connected to was in great pain.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end when she recognized the ring wrapped around the hand’s middle finger. Undoubtedly, the silver band inscribed with the word ‘fortuna’ on it was the ring Barb had gotten upon graduating the 8th grade. It was a moment in which Nancy wanted to scream, cry, sprint away, and collapse at the same time. Before logic could get the best of her, she grabbed for her, hoping to somehow pull her to the surface. However, the hand wouldn’t budge and only pulled Nancy’s hand down towards the pool.
“Barb?” She choked in a strangled whisper, “I don’t want to let you go.” Hot tears spilled from her eyes, vulnerable to the force pulling her down towards the water. Before she could resist, she was falling into the depth of what obviously wasn’t water, but something far worse.
“Stop!” Nancy screamed, shooting up from her bed. Tears stained her cheeks while sweat dripped down the sides of her forehead. “Oh my God,” she murmured to herself repeatedly, cradling her head between her arms. Never had any of her dreams been so vivid or realistic to the point where she could still feel the pressure of Barb’s...something’s, fingers gripping her hands. The sweaty sheen covering the majority of her skin looked as though she’d dipped herself into a basin of water.
All the months she’d spent blocking out any thoughts, memories, observations, related to what had happened became useless from the moment she saw Will in such an odd state the day before. There was something wrong and no matter how many times she told herself that she needed to face reality, there wasn’t a possibility that it was going to be accepted immediately- or at least she thought there wouldn’t.
Will may have been returned, but there was no confirmation that whatever was out there, whatever door had been opened, was still a looming threat. However, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had no other choice but to wait. There was yet to be concrete evidence of anything other than Will’s behavior and the seed of foreboding it planted that most likely caused that horrendous nightmare.
Everyone else in Hawkins who hadn’t been directly involved moved on, of course, with the exception of Barb’s parents. They were still under the guise that Barb had run away, that she had purposefully left them without a trace or a note to ensure her safety and that was something Nancy was going to have to live with for the rest of her life.
Get yourself together, Nancy
Her head shot up when she heard some scuffling outside of her door. The sun was already out so she figured that it could be anyone in her house, however, she didn’t expect Holly to pop her head in warily.
“Nancy,” Holly started in a bird-like timbre, carefully wording the term, “Break-f-ah-st,”
Despite her innocent demeanor, Nancy could tell that Holly was concerned, whether she could even determine what that emotion was or not. It wasn’t too far off to conclude that she’d heard her scream when she woke up either. It was a wonder that no one else had.
“Oh, okay. I’ll be coming down soon.” Nancy replied lightly, making a point of smiling despite wiping tears off her face. Holly continued to watch her from the door, somehow appearing far more mature and observant than what would be expected at her age. Tentatively at first, she began walking towards Nancy, taking small steps towards her bed. It seemed she wanted to say something but instead, she simply wrapped her little arms around her older sister, inviting her into a warm embrace. All of a sudden, Nancy felt tears welling up in her eyes once more. She wanted to somehow absorb the obliviousness and innocence that lived inside of Holly but she knew that part of herself was long gone; that Barb had taken it with her.
She gently pushed Holly away, cupping her face in a way she hadn’t done since she was a newborn, “I’ll be down soon, alright?” Holly nodded and promptly left her bedroom, purposefully leaving the door wide open. Taking a quick glance at the alarm clock by her bedside, she realized that she was supposed to be leaving in a little less than half an hour to pick up Marisol on the way to the park.
Cursing to herself, she jumped out of bed and began rifling through her dresser, the nightmare forgotten as a new focus occupied her mind. With some internal debate, she finally decided on wearing a simply white t-shirt, a long sleeved gray shirt, with an over-sized sweatshirt that read University of Michigan to top it all of and hopefully combat the cold. After pulling on a pair of light-washed jeans and sneakers, she observed her unkempt hair and the residue of mascara from the night before. Her chocolate brown curls which she usually brushed into a ponytail or clipped back, hung wildly past shoulders. Conscience of her limited time, she gave herself one more brooding inspection before scampering to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash off the makeup she’d forgotten to remove overnight.
To her relief, her mother had set out some toast for her by the time she rushed downstairs.
“I have to go do a project,” She blurted out between scarfing down her toast and chugging a glass of milk. Only Mrs. Wheeler and Holly were in the kitchen.
“That’s fine,” her mother said plainly, however, Nancy knew the statement would be followed by a myriad of questions. “With whom and when will you be back?” She continued casually while sipping her coffee.
Nancy fought the urge to roll her eyes, “My lab partner Marisol. I’ll probably be back before dinner” She purposefully left out Jonathan’s name knowing that it would only bring rise to more questions.
“What’s the project for?” Her mother persisted, but Nancy was already picking up her bag and on the way out the backdoor.
Shrugging before making her hasty exit, she responded while still chewing the last of her toast, “Science. Bye Holly!”
Within minutes, Nancy was driving down Marisol’s street, conveniently only a block or two from Hawkins Park. Marisol was already standing outside of her driveway, clad in a jean miniskirt over bright green tights. It was a wonder she hadn’t already frozen to death.
“You look like crap,” was Marisol’s early morning salutation as she got into Nancy’s heated car.
Nancy laughed, refusing to allow herself to dwell on that morning, “No, I look warm,”. She knew her partner didn’t mean to offend her yet sometimes she questioned whether her own patience would tolerate her lack of filter for much longer.
Marisol reapplied her signature bright pink lipstick using the wing mirror on the passenger’s side. “Rough night?” she asked with a tone Nancy recognized as an implication for something else. Something that hadn't happened in a while.
With eyes focused on the road, she shrugged, “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Is that anyone’s fault in particular?” Marisol sniggered as if she was in on a joke.
Nancy decided to choose her words carefully, “Steve and I-”
“-Hah I knew it. I’m basically a psy-”
“Aren’t in a good place right now, if that’s what you’re implying.” The fact that she was driving gave her a good excuse of avoiding the confused face that Marisol was probably giving her.
“What did he do this time. I swear, if he was being an asshole I’ll call my cousin up. You know, Benny, and he’ll take care of-” She blubbered before Nancy interrupted her.
“-No, Marisol. Jesus, calm down. I think it was something I did.” Their conversation over the phone kept replaying in her head as she pulled into the park’s parking lot. The fact that he’d probably call her at some point in the day and she wouldn’t be home made her stomach churn with guilt.
“What did you do?” the raven-haired girl asked with what Nancy believed to be disbelief, “You guys are my favorite couple? If you guys don’t work, no one can.”
Nancy didn’t know what to say, “Uh, Jonathan is going to show up here soon. He said we’d all meet in the parking lot.” In order to fill the growing silence following her failed attempt of abruptly changing the subject, she added, “Well, what about you and Brian? Don’t you think you guys will last?”
Marisol laughed coolly, “Brian isn’t boyfriend material, believe me. It was a Christmas holiday fling.”
Nancy could resist to raise her eyebrows and smirk, “That’s not what I heard him telling Charlie in Math class.”
“You’re shitting me right. What’d he say?” Marisol asked with a dumbfounded expression, obviously trying to downplay whatever emotion she was feeling.
“Something about you guys having a real” Nancy used her hands as air quotes, “connection.”
Just as Marisol’s blush turned into the shade of a bright red fire hydrant and Nancy was about to tease her for it, she recognized a car pulling into the parking lot.
Marisol rotated her head to see what had taken Nancy’s attention, inwardly thankful that it wasn’t on her any longer. Exclaiming in recognition, “Oh, there’s our little helper.”
Nancy lightly shoved her shoulder, “Hey, don’t call him that. It's condescending."
As they both got out of the car, Marisol questioned, "Well, what am I supposed to call him?" Instead of replying, Nancy gave her a look that expressed something along the lines of "behave." Marisol had undoubtedly been a handful as a child. Fortunately for her parents, she was also an only child.
While approaching Jonathan's car, he was stepping out of it, careful not to knock his camera against the door as he did so. He seemed far more prepared for the elements in a thick wool lined denim jacket as opposed to Marisol's borderline springtime getup.
Once he noticed them, he gave them a small wave which Nancy mirrored. A smile ghosted his face that resembled the one he'd given her after their brief exchange at his house. He seemed farm more well rested than their previous encounters and his demeanor comforted her. Before she'd gotten to know him, she would have never expected that he was capable of being a source of ease while also harboring strong feelings of rage and resentment. Seeing him maintain his calm throughout most of what they'd been through and then basically losing his shit when Steve slandered his family had been a roller coaster of revelation that made her curious for what other dimension of his personality had yet to be disclosed.
“Hey, Jonathan,” Nancy said warmly despite to temperature, “I wanted to say thanks again.”
He shook his head, “I like doing this.”
“What? Freezing your ass off?” Marisol interjected, making them all chuckle in unison. Together they directed themselves towards the center of the park where the statue Nancy had recalled to have vines wrapped around it was. On the way, however, they took some photographs of other plants that somehow flourished during harsh winters. Even though they were only thorny shrubs or tired florets. Their resilience made up for their lack of petals, colors, or aesthetic appeal in general.
Regardless of her sagacious observation, she was slightly more fascinated by the process by which Jonathan took pictures. Once either Marisol or Nancy pointed out a plant, he’d first determine the angle of light followed by a closer inspection of what angle showcased the plant best. Unlike the awkward manner in which he usually carried himself, his movements were self assured and even confident. There were moments where it was as though he forgot they were even present.
As they walked along a particularly shrubby path, Marisol declared, "Look, some heather blossoms." The plants in question hung over an old wooden bench meant for when the climate was less unforgiving and more inviting.
"Do you guys wanna be in the picture?" he asked, "Like, sitting on the bench. It would make a good cover photo." It was probably the first time he'd directed a full sentence towards them since entering the park. Marisol nodded vigorously in approval while Nancy wasn't quite behind the idea of keeping a picture of her current state for posterity but she figured that it wasn't worth arguing against. As she sat down on the creaky and decayed wood of the bench, she thought about what Jonathan had told her in the darkroom weeks before and how a picture could capture more than what a person can say in words. It was difficult not to wonder what her smile in a photograph said. Whether it reflected a genuine smile, a knowing grin, or if it was evident that there was a mask over gloom.
Jonathan crouched down so his camera was level with their faces and counted down from three. Just as he was about to take the photo, he paused, "Nancy, maybe you should relax your smile a little." She realized she was straining a bit and blushed.
"It's kind of frozen," she joked with an awkward chortle, putting in an effort to relax her face while Marisol rolled her eyes playfully.
Marisol covered Nancy's hand with hers, "I don't think it's just your face. You might as well be a block of ice." She seemed to be wracking her brain over something. "You know what? I think I saw your mittens in the glove compartment. I'll run over and get them to you."
In an instant, her partner was sauntering in the same direction they'd come from while Nancy felt herself feel a sense of gratitude for her incautious friend. Despite her unusual characteristics, she was sensitive underneath careless remarks and blunders. A comfortable silence filled her absence and Jonathan got up from his crouched position to sit next to her on the bench.
"You know how you got me a gift for Christmas?" he started, "and I didn't think to get you one."
Nancy nodded perplexedly, "Yeah, and then I told you not to worry about it?"
"But I worried about it anyways because I just like annoying you," Jonathan chuckled, a small dimple forming on the side of his cheek that Nancy had never taken the time to notice. "Anyways," she watched him closely as he pulled a package out of the inside pocket of his jacket and placed it in her hands. As he was passing it to her, her eyes lingered on the faint pale line that crossed his left palm. The same mark she had on her own hand.
Hesitantly, she pulled on the string of yarn that bundled the simple striped wrapping paper. "It's not anything fancy by the way," he added, "I just thought of you when I saw it."
She couldn't help but laugh when the wrapping paper was moved aside to reveal a knitted scarf the same obnoxious purple-ly color as her mittens. Instead of immediately thanking him, she remarked warmly, "and you waited until now to give it to me?"
He shrugged, playing off an air of nonchalance while impulsively stuffing his hands into his pockets, "Well, I didn't really wanna give it to you in front of Marisol because, I don't know, it's awkward."
"No, I think it's because you were scared that she'd say something like, 'where's my gift then, Jonny boy?'" His dark eyes trailed from her face to the ground, a hint of pink resembling the heather blossoms dusted over his cheeks. "Or is it just because she falls under the category of the majority of people you don't like?" Although she said it jokingly, there was a tone of actual question in her voice.
Evidently taken aback from her comment, Jonathan scratched the back of his neck, "That was really pretentious of me to say. I know you're joking but I don't spend my time disliking people, or I shouldn't at least."
"What made your opinion change?"
His eyes found hers again, "Remember after we were at that hardware store and you said something about how you'd never expected to be in a situation where you're hanging out with me."
"Yeah," a gust of wind blew a strand of hair over her face making her quickly swipe it behind her ear.
"I just- I don't know, how to explain it exactly but if I really had that 'I don't like most people' mindset that is purely based on first impressions, I doubt we'd have ever become friends... or that Steve and I would be okay with each other," he raised his eyebrows, "if that makes any sense."
"It does," she replied, digging her fingers between the folds of the scarf he'd gotten her. The fact that he'd opened up on that small bit of information prompted her to refrain from asking him more questions on his standpoint, knowing that that had probably been difficult enough on it's own. Instead, she wrapped his gift around her neck and asked for clarification, "So you don't hate Marisol?"
"No, just her tights," he smiled crookedly in reference to their neon material, "they're fucking blinding."