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this is being updated to my tumblr account. you can find it here
“Hey, Y/N,” Nancy pulls on your sleeve after you exit fourth period, effectively startling you. Your brow furrows as she ushers you aside and you’re surprised that she’d be interested in speaking with you again. Something must’ve happened.
“What’s going on?”
She sighs and looks over her shoulder. It gives you the impression that she’s slightly paranoid, “Did you notice if Barb was here today? I know she’s in your last class.”
You shake your head as you try not to let bitterness seep into your tone at the mention of her friend, “Uh, no. She wasn’t.” Nancy shifts her weight on her feet, desperate for an answer, “Are you sure?”
“Positive. She probably just skipped,” You respond to her as the bell rings, and the hallway starts to fill with other students.
Nancy chews on her lip, “Yeah, probably. I just got worried, I didn’t see her leave after I went up to Steve’s room-” Your eyes widen and her cheeks instantly redden, and you decide to brush that one off, for her sake.
“Yeah, she probably just got bored and left, you know?” Your attempts to comfort Nancy come as a shock to you. Even though she broke your heart and left you behind, you can’t help but want to offer support. Those dumb kids have made you soft.
Nancy nods along with your words, “Totally. Well, I’ll let you get to class. I hear there’s a pop quiz in seventh period today.”
You nudge her with your notebook, the corner of your mouth inching upwards, “Oh, great, thanks for the heads up.” She turns and heads off into the classroom across the hall; your own actions leave you speechless.
Why you were offering her comfort baffles you - you have no idea why that sudden urge came over you. What she did hurt you more her; it’s as if she never lost a friend. But now, she has, and Nancy Wheeler’s lost without them.
Your quads burn as you bike behind the kids, the afternoon sun starting to dip behind the trees; casting elongated shadows of the five of you onto the cracked pavement. All you can hope is that a typical Midwest fall storm isn’t going to interrupt your plan for Eleven to lead you to Will - otherwise known as ‘Operation Mirkwood’.
Eleven eventually has the group stop outside the Byers’ home; Joyce’s car parked in the driveway.
“Why are we at their house?” Dustin asks, panting slightly, “I swear, if she made us bike all the way out here…” He presses down on the kickstand, you and Lucas follow suit.
“Will-” Eleven starts, getting off of Mike’s bike and walking towards the porch. She looks puzzled, as if she was expecting us to find him here.
“Yeah, this is Will’s house, sweetheart,” You say, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You’ve grown rather fond of the girl after realizing just how burdened she truly is. Her brown doe eyes say it all.
“I don’t understand,” El mutters, “I saw him.”
Mike approaches her, “Will lives here. This is where he’s missing from, understand?”
Lucas grows inpatient beside you, tapping his fingers against the handlebars. You place your hand over one of his, signaling for him to calm himself. He sends an apologetic glance your way.
“Hey, you guys hear that?” Dustin turns and looks back down the dirt road. A high pitched siren carries through the air, accompanied by the growing flashes of red and blue lights of an ambulance. Your gut tells you to follow it.
“Come on,” You say, pressing your sneaker into the pedal, “Let’s see where it goes.”
“Are you crazy?” Lucas shouts after you as you speed off, gravel crunching under your tires.
You make sure to keep your distance, no interest in getting caught. The lights lead you to Sattler’s Quarry, a common weekend getaway for the teens of Hawkins. You haven’t been here since your days with Nancy.
This isn’t any ordinary police investigation. A long band of yellow caution tape goes between two of the police cars at the scene. The men who drove the ambulance are opening up the back, pulling out and unfolding a gurney. Chief Hopper steps out from his truck and rushes down to the reservoir’s bank.
“State police? What are they doin’ here?” You mumble under your breath, ditching your bike behind a group of bushes at the entrance. The kids ended up following you, and they copy your actions.
You motion to move forward, hiding the group behind the door of the ambulance. The sirens barely drown out the sound of your heart beating aggressively. If you get caught here, you’re dead meat.
The party pokes their heads out from behind you as if something from a comedy sketch, watching as the gurney gets rolled down to the water’s edge. One of the policemen focuses their flashlight on something floating in the water.
Someone.
“Oh, Jesus Christ-” You cover your mouth with your sleeve to muffle your words.
“That can’t be,” Dustin mutters, gripping onto your elbow.
“Will,” Lucas whispers.
Mike shakes his head in disbelief, “No, no way. That can’t be him.” The body is pulled from the water and is completely limp; you feel nausea overtake you once it’s unmistakable - that’s Will Byers.
You can’t look.
The devastating flood of emotions crawls up the back of your neck, making you shiver. You turn away from the scene, grabbing the kids and pulling them with you. There’s no need for them to see any more of this. There’s no doubt in your mind that they’ll be scarred from this - and it’s all your fault.
“Come on, we gotta go. We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry,” Tears threaten to fall onto your cheeks, but you need to stay composed for them. For your brother.
Mike pushes himself away from your side once you reach the bikes, anger present on his face. He turns to Eleven, who’s tucked underneath your arm, and lashes out, “I can’t believe you would lie to me, El? Lie to us! You broke the rule, our one rule!”
Mike pulls up his bike and races off without another word, leaving the rest of you to chase after him.
The wind blows through your hair as you pedal faster than you ever have before. El’s arms are wrapped tightly around your waist and you can feel tears staining the back of your jacket.
She didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t lie. What happened to Will was out of her control, and you know Eleven understands that she couldn’t save him.
His face is burned into your mind.
Will’s.
He was the smallest out of the kids. He was the smallest, but he was the most observant. Will knew just as well as Dustin did when you were struggling with something. He never hesitated to attempt to brighten your day at the sight of your frown.
And now he’s gone. Gone for good this time.
It’s only once the scalding water from the shower hits your back that it all comes out. The tears. The pain. The strain of not being able to find him in time.
Knowing that maybe, maybe if you had been there that night, he’d be sketching you another one of his gorgeous drawings - instead of on his way to the mortuary to be dissected.
You sob at the thought of having to attend his funeral. You sob at the realization that he’ll never again be in your living room on the weekends. You sob when you think how he’ll never show you the new comics Joyce managed to buy him that week.
And it hurts. It fucking hurts.
You take a deep breath as you knock two of your fingers against the door. It’s quiet for a few seconds, leading you to chew on your cheek. The parental instincts you’ve gained over the last couple of years are on high alert - all that matters is that the kids are okay.
“Come in,” Dustin says, prompting you to enter his room. He’s lying on his bed, facing away from the doorway. You sit down beside him, adjusting the blanket draped over your shoulders. Minutes of silence pass, the words you had wanted to say were lost in the back of your throat.
“It’s gonna be hard,” you begin, eyes downcast onto the striped carpet, “It’s gonna be hard without him.”
“I know,” Dustin answers before sitting up next to you. You tuck him underneath the blanket and sigh, “He knew that we loved him. We supported him, cared for him. Jesus - you cared about him so much that you spent the last few days dedicated to finding him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a friend like that.”
You sniffle as tears start to burn behind your eyes, “Will was really lucky.” Dustin wipes his nose, nodding softly at the effort to comfort him, “Yeah, he was.” He turns to you, the sadness of this loss shown plainly on his face, “He had you too, you know.”
It never seemed like you ever did anything that affected the kids. You took things a day at a time with them - letting them just be young and make mistakes was important to you. Advice was only offered when it was crucial.
But Dustin implying that you’ve been more to the kids than you thought lets the floodgates open.
Your tears mix with the water dripping from your wet hair; you sputter and cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the heavy breaths. Dustin leans his head against your shoulder before finally breaking down himself.
“I’m supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around,” You manage to say between cries.
“Well, you need someone to be here for you too, you know,” He responds and wraps his arms around your waist. Your head settles on top of his as you two cry into each other’s embrace until neither one of you is able to anymore.
“We’ll always be there for each other, right?” You whimper into his curls, becoming drowsy from the dehydration.
Dustin’s arms tighten around you, “Of course.” And in that moment, you knew it was going to be a long journey to get over something as tragic as this.
Your mouth is dry - and you’re on the floor.
Dustin snores lightly above you with an arm dangling over the edge of the mattress; the image makes you smile. You must’ve fallen asleep in his room the night prior. At least you have a pillow.
You sit up slowly but surely, propping yourself up on an elbow. The sun has barely risen over the landscape outside the window and it hits you again.
Will’s gone.
You lay back down and push the base of your palms into your eyes once the feelings start to overwhelm you again. But you have responsibilities, things you’ve gotta take care of. Maybe just trying to pretend everything’s okay again could help you move on. Help you grieve.
You sling your backpack over your shoulder and take one last look at your brother, still sleeping soundly underneath the covers. You decide not to wake him; he can have today off.
Your gaze is locked onto the clock above the chalkboard as the hands seem to move slower than usual. There’s nothing to distract you from letting your mind wander back to Will, back to the image of seeing his body floating in the quarry.
You drum your thumb against the desk as the teacher’s information is going in one ear and out the other. No part of this lesson seems important right now.
The bell finally rings and you’re the first one up from your chair, textbook in hand, desperate to get some fresh air. Maybe that’ll help clear your mind a bit.
The scent of the crisp fall air does help soothe your soul a bit - it always has. The ache in your head has started to dull and will hopefully perk up your day. Until you see a familiar yellow car pull into the parking lot.
“Mom?” You approach her as she closes the driver’s seat door, “What are you doing here?”
She sends you a small smile before pulling you in for a quick hug, “I heard about Will this morning, how are you holding up, baby?”
“I’ll be okay, but that’s not why you’re here, is it?” You ask her as she leads you towards the school doors, “The police wanted to talk to you about some kind of investigation they’re doin’, I’m assuming about the poor Byers boy.”
You would’ve stopped in your tracks if it weren’t for her arm around your shoulders ushering you forward. You’re certain that’s not what they’ll be asking you about.
Of all the weeks to be helping the kids hide a fugitive, and they had to pick this one. There’s a kid with psychic powers just hanging out in the Wheeler’s basement and you’re partially responsible-
“Are you listening to me?” Your mother’s voice finally reaches your ears once you realize you spaced out, “There’s nothing else going on, is there?”
“No, Mom, of course not,” You quickly deflect. Probably too quickly.
“No boys you’re off sneaking around with?” She playfully pokes at your stomach, sending a rush of red to your cheeks and a shocked expression to your face, “Mom!”
“I know, I know. I’m kidding!” She chuckles, “I know you’re a good kid, baby.” You send off a fake laugh to help try and calm your thumping heart, your palms growing clammier at her remark. If only she knew.
———
You’re certain the deputies can tell you’re nervous. Your leg bounces against the wooden floor of the cafeteria as they click their pens to gather your testimony.
“Where were you the night of the 8th?” Callahan asks, looking down at his notes. You furrow your brow at the question, completely unprepared for something like that, “Um- I was at work, out doing deliveries.”
“Is it true you dropped off an order for a group of teens that night?” You nod, “I did, yeah.”
“We were informed that you might’ve seen Barb Holland there,” Powell adds, “She’s been missing for over 24 hours, so we’re required to gather as much information as we can.”
A weight gets lifted off your shoulders once it’s revealed that they’re not looking for Eleven, and you’re able to breathe easier, “Yeah, she was there. I saw her with Nancy Wheeler when I was at the door.” You hear your mother exhale at that name, fully aware of your bitter relationship with her.
Powell starts to scribble your comment down, “Who else was there? We just want to confirm some things.”
You nod as you start counting on your fingers, “Tommy H. and Carol were there, and it was Steve Harrington’s place, so him too. I don’t know if there was anyone else.”
Callahan notates that before turning his attention back to you, “Alright, thanks for the info. We’ll put this on file and you’ve been approved to take the rest of the day off.”
Your heart sinks for a moment at the mention of this going on record, and you laugh nervously, “File? What do you mean?”
“Well, it’ll be on your record that you were brought in for questioning. It’s some dumb state law just to keep track of when you apply for jobs, schools - that sort of thing,” Callahan says as he gets up out of his chair, and your mom goes to pull you up too - you’ve completely frozen in your seat.
“I’m sure it’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong!” Your mom comforts you as you exit the school, your mind swimming at the moment.
“Colleges care about stuff like that! I’m trying to get into elite programs, Mom. They’re not gonna want some girl who got questioned for a crime, Jesus Christ-” You ramble to her, “I’ve been trying so hard to get in, what if I can’t now?”
She shrugs slightly, “Well, I guess we won’t know until you start applying, sweetheart.” She gives your shoulder an affectionate rub and you turn your focus over to where you hear Steve, Carol, and Tommy conversing rather loudly. If this is their fault-
“Hey!” Your mom shouts to grab your attention, realizing you’d stopped listening again and hadn’t noticed that she moved away from you, “You getting in or what?”
You turn your head back to the trio, before hatching an idea, “I’ll be home in a jif, I got something to take care of first.”
At the sound of her engine running and the car driving off, you start heading over to the group and their spot by the school wall.
Tommy notices you approaching first and sends a sly smirk your way before nudging the others.
“Well well well,” Tommy starts but you’ve already had enough of him, your temper starting to show, “Save it. Which one of you asshats told the cops I was there?”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” Steve pipes up, raising his hand.
You send him a glare before turning, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” You look over to Carol and Tommy, your eyes unflinchingly harsh at their smirks, “Privately?”
Steve huffs before gesturing for the two of them to leave, and they don’t right away, “Get out of here, I’ll meet you at the car.”
They finally turn as start walking towards the sports fields and Steve runs a hand through his hair, “God, I can’t take them anywhere.”
He turns back towards you and starts to open his mouth to say something, but you grab your textbook with both hands and hit him in the arm before he can.
“Jesus, what the hell was that for?” He asks after it makes contact, rubbing his sleeve to soothe the pain, “Did you come over here just to hit me?”
“Yes, actually, I did,” You sigh before closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm the frustration that you feel, “Because of you, that shit’s going on my permanent record! And I didn’t even do anything!”
“So?” He leans against the brick wall, shrugging as he does so.
“ So , that could get me rejected from colleges, Harrington! You have any idea how hard I’ve worked to get these grades?”
“It’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway, what’s it matter?”
Before you can come up with a snarky reply, you notice over his shoulder what looks to be Mike, Lucas, and Dustin jogging across the grass, bikes in hand, with a blonde-haired girl you could’ve sworn was Eleven jogging behind them.
“What are you deaf or something?” Steve asks and starts furrowing his brow once he sees that your attention is elsewhere. He turns to maybe catch a glimpse, but the kids have disappeared behind the bleachers.
You groan at the idea of them getting into even more trouble, and start to move to the bike rack in the hopes of chasing them down.
“Hey!” Steve grabs your backpack and spins you back around towards him, a look of confusion on his face. You hit his hand away from you before pointing a finger at in his direction, walking backward, “You’re not off the hook yet.”
He throws his arms up in defeat as you turn yet again, hopping on the seat and speeding off.