Chapter Text
"She's late."
The near set sun shined a bright orange through the trees. Casting a glow over the two teens that have been parked on the edge of the forest at Old Man Hoss' crossroads for the better part of an hour. They were told to be there for 5 o clock. It was nearing 7 now. Joyce sat in the passenger seat of the cheap and rusty pickup that Jim had bought himself for his seventeenth birthday. She wasn't too concerned about her sister's lack of punctuality.
"I know. You've mentioned like 7 times now." She picked at the air conditioning, bored. Jim, who was standing outside and leaning against the side of the truck and tapping, borderline hitting, the car out of frustration and had been pacing back and forth.
"Why'd she even tell us to pick her up here in the middle of nowhere? Is she in the forest or something?" Jim flapped his arm angrily at the rows of trees.
Joyce began picking at her nails. An anxious habit she developed freshmen year, "She's probably just stood us up; or she forgot. You know what she's like. Nothing to worry about."
She could tell that Jim heard the slight tone of unsurety in her usually peppy voice but she tried her best to calm him down a little and give him assurance over her missing sister, who might be in the alley behind the movie theater smoking with her friends or most likely off chasing a new conspiracy theory.
This has not been the first time that she ditched them two for a 'case', as their mother calls her sister's wacky theories. Maybe to give them some sort of dignity despite their outlandishness. But assuring Jim about her sister's absence had assured her.
Although, yes, Joyce found it odd that her sister told the two of them to meet at the crossroads, she didn't want to dwell on it. She was cold and bored and expectant of her sister's unpredictable behaviour so she suggested to her friend that they should head home afterall.
"It's just-" Jim began.
"Frustrating? I know. Her cases are getting more out there. She's getting more brave... or crazy, I think," Joyce laughed, "She's not a kid anymore. She doesn't want to be controlled or regulated or some other word she used-"
Just like Joyce had cut him off, Jim pointed at the wall of trees and snapped forward, "There she is."
Joyce heard the cracking of twigs under her sister's feet before she saw her. Shifting through the trees was Donna Horowitz, drenched. Her clothes were sopping and sticking to her dirt scraped skin, shivering and clutching at herself.
"Donna? Wha- why are you wet?" Joyce called.
Upon reaching them Donna was out of breath and crunched down and held her knees. Her face was scrunched up with exhaustion. Joyce could feel Jim glowering to the side of her, "Don? What happened?"
"Donna?"
Donna wheezed out an pained explanation, "The damned- Joy, you need to see this. This is crazy. Come on," She grasped onto Joyce's shoulder and arm, who yelped as she was pulled forward and towards the forest she just stepped out of.
"Wait. Woah woah woah. Jus- just stop a minute, Don. Take a breath," Jim seized both of them and dragged them back to the truck.
Joyce stiffened even further when she smelled the air of alcohol around her sister. She's drunk.
Letting Joyce talk to her sister, Jim looked around in the trunk of the truck for a towel or something to dry her.
"There's this thing in the forest, Joyce." Donna's eyes became crazed and fearful, begging Joyce to believe her.
"Stop. Donna, stop."
"What? You don't believe me? This is real!"
"Why are you wet?"
"The quarry," Donna sighed.
"The quarry? What were you doing at the quarry? Did you fall in the water?"
"Oh shut up, Joyce. I'm not an idiot."
The little brat, Joyce thought, "Hey! You shut up and answer me!"
They had each others shoulders in a grasp and were pushing eachother but without the aggression to actually hurt.
Jim was back to pry the girls off their respective sister before one pulled out a punch, "Alright! That's enough...both of you!" Jim looked between the them and spoke firmly, "what were you doing at the quarry, Don? What happened?"
Jim couldn't find anything substantial to wrap Donna in so he had removed his winter flannel jacket and moved it around her shoulders and pushed it against her arms to dry her.
For the first time since she arrived, she took a few deep breaths and shot a harmless evil look at Joyce, "It's a case I've been looking into. Don't roll your eyes." She scolded.
"You’ve gone too far this time, Donna. This is crazy," Joyce interjected, trying to rationalise.
Jim gestured to the shivering girl in his arms that grasped at the warm jacket around her. She's definitely hit a low point right now and didn't need to be called crazy, (even if she was) "Hey, Joyce? Give her a break would ya?"
Joyce hummed a response. She's just worried for her little sister. Seeing her like this made her anxious and jittery. She didn't know how to help her. She picked at her nails and whispered to Jim, "Jim, I think she's drunk."
Jim looked Donna up and down again, "What? Whatever. We can stay at my granddad's cabin. Come on."
"Fine. Can she walk?"
"Probably not. Come 'ere and grab her legs. She's basically dead weight right now," Jim tried his best to pull Donna up and into his arms while Joyce held her legs by the calfs and marched forward to shove her into the passenger seat of the pickup.
With Donna resting on her sister's lap and her legs resting on Jim's, they drove off through the darkening evening sky with an eeire sense of danger resting on their shoulders. They shrugged it off for hope but it never left.
Elsewhere, the danger waited for her. It waited for the moment to drag her down into its depths for the final time.