Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eleven

Dear Mike, 

Today is day 185. Feels more like ten years. Joyce says time is funny like that. Emotions can make it speed up or slow down. We are all time travelers if you think about it. For example, this week is going very fast. I think because I am so busy. I have to make something called a ‘Visual Aid’ . I hope Mrs. Gracey will give me an A.

Some exciting news. Joyce got an amazing new job. She gets to work at home. She says she loves the ‘freedom’.

Will is painting a lot, but he… he won’t show me what he’s working on. Maybe it is for a girl. I think there is someone he likes because he has been acting… weird.

Jonathan is acting weird also. I think he is just nervous about college. He is still waiting for his big letter. I hope he and Nancy get to go together. But I don’t know how he’ll get to college because his car is still broken. His funny friend Argyle has been taking us to school. His hair is longer than mine. And he and Jonathan like to smoke smelly plants together. Jonathan says the plants are super safe because they come from the earth, but to not tell Joyce.

Me? I am twice as happy now. You were right, it just takes time. I think I have finally adapted. At first, I missed all the spring flowers, but now I find it pretty here too. I even like school now. I am still best at math, but my grammar is getting good now also. It helps that everyone is so nice here. I have made lots of friends. Even so, I am ready for Spring Break, mostly because I get to see you. I am so excited to see you, it is hard to breathe. Are you excited too? I think you will love it here like me. I think we will have the best Spring Break ever. I hope my spelling was better this time. Miss you. 

Love,

El

Spring Break. She couldn’t wait. But before then, she had to get through this final day of school, and with that last day, their class project: presenting their heroes. Eleven knew that Will had spent a lot of time on his Alan Turing presentation, and she herself had made a diorama dedicated to her—late—father, Jim Hopper. Although Will had warned her about Hopper maybe not meeting the project criteria, Eleven had been adamant on presenting him. After all, her dad had saved her entire town, even if he had died in the process. 

The memory, the realization that he would never come back still struck a chord in her chest, pinching her heart, but she was overall much better than she used to be. She was happy with her new family. Will, Jonathan, and Ms. Byers—Joyce— Mom —were everything she had ever wanted in a family. They were everything Papa wasn’t and everything Eleven wished he had been. Papa was also a painful memory. 

Speaking of Papa, she was still worried about her powers, but she trusted Will and Mike and everyone else when they said it would take time. She had exhausted herself by defeating the Mind Flayer after all. 

She did need to focus on her project though, at least at the moment. It was due tomorrow, but then the day after she would finally, finally get to see Mike. 

She really did try to be enthusiastic about California, but Jonathan’s new habits did somewhat worry her, and she knew she wasn’t being completely honest in her letters to Mike, even though she tried. The only thing she was sure about was Will definitely had someone he liked. That had to be the only explanation, didn’t it? He never acted this way before, and the closer it got to Spring Break, the more distant he seemed to get. He always chose to sit holed up in his room, probably working on that painting of his, the one he wouldn’t let the others see. 

None of that was Eleven’s problem though. Nope. She did care about Will, but she didn’t want to pry into his love life; he seemed really touchy about it, anyway. 

One final dollop of glue and… there. Finally done. Though she was exhausted, she proudly admired her accomplishment. And just in time too, she thought, hearing Joyce call her and her brothers to the table for dinner. 

Will

“So, are you all excited for Spring Break?” His mom asked, trying to lead a dinner conversation. 

Will could tell that Jonathan was stoned out of his mind, and El was exhausted, both from a day of bullying (again), school in general, and finishing her diorama. He was kind of worried about her; she was exhausting herself. Hopefully she could rest over Spring Break. Will himself was far from the most popular kid at school, but he was generally able to keep his head down and get through it. A lot of the girls were annoying though; Angela and her friends were one thing, but the other girls were another. He wished Mike could be there with him. Dustin and Lucas too, of course, but something about Mike was special. Maybe it was the fact that Mike was his first friend, ever, or the fact that Mike was the only person who believed that Will was always out there and believed in what Will was saying. Either way, it would make a shitty situation better. 

At least his mom seemed to be happy. She had a much better job now, and was a lot calmer since their move from Hawkins. Will still wished they could move back, though. 

“So do you kids know if Nancy’s coming with Mike on Saturday?” Joyce asked as a follow up question, after nothing but silence and a couple of nods after her first one. 

“Um, no, I don’t think so. Newspaper stuff,” Will replied, slightly annoyed. Jonathan should have to talk about his girlfriend, but instead he was floating off in who knows where. 

He knew it wasn’t fair, but Will had started somewhat resenting the new Jonathan. He missed his brother who was always around, always present, always knew what to say, what to do. Will missed the stability. But at the same time, he understood that things changed and that people should get outlets of their own. So he tried his best to accept Jonathan as best as he could. 

Eleven, on the other hand, seemed just fine with it, if not a bit confused. Both of the younger Byers siblings found Jonathan’s new friend, Argyle, funny, albeit odd. His driving habits were terrifying, but Eleven and Will had eventually adjusted.

Will turned his attention back to his food; as much as he didn't want to admit it, he was stressed out about Mike’s visit. It was going to be his birthday, but Mike hadn’t called in what seemed like forever. They had talked maybe a few times after Will had moved out to California, which would have been understandable if Eleven didn’t have practically an album full of letters from Mike. Knowing that made Will both anxious and frustrated. He deserved better as Mike’s former (?) best friend. But at the same time, he was scared that maybe Mike no longer wanted anything to do with him. I guess either way, I’ll find out on Saturday, he thought, but as Eleven began to gush about her plans with Mike, his heart fell into his stomach. 

He hated being in love with his former (?) best friend. 

Eleven

“Hold onto your butts, brochachos,” Argyle announced as Eleven, Jonathan, and Will clambered into his pizza shop issued van. The smell of weed, though not very strong, filtered throughout the car. 

“Slow down!” called Joyce, as the van pulled out of the driveway, speeding down the road. Eleven didn’t need powers to tell that Joyce did not approve of Argyle’s driving prowess. 

When they arrived at the school, Will and Eleven split off from the other two, down the hall and towards their class. Eleven nodded at Angela, hoping to come off in a friendly way, but the other girl rolled her eyes and sneered at El, making her way to her locker. Eleven felt her smile slightly slip off of her face as she followed Will into the classroom and sat down, placing her diorama on the desk and sliding her bag off of her shoulders and setting it on the ground. She looked at Will next to her, who gave Eleven a reassuring smile, which she returned. Everything would be fine. It was just one more day until Spring Break. 

The rest of the class slowly wandered in, the last person slipping into his seat just as the teacher walked in. Their teacher started the class as Eleven sat up and tried to pay attention. The presentations were going to start soon, after all. 

Will

As Angela droned on about Helen Keller, Will doodled on the paper in front of him. He had lost focus a while ago and just didn’t really care about what Angela had to say. Besides, he was too busy worrying about Mike’s visit. His presentation had already happened, and he didn’t think he did too bad of a job with his “hero”. The teacher would probably give him a decent grade, and that’s all he wanted anyway. Standing out would pave the way for new bullies, and he was already helping Eleven deal with Angela and her whole gang. 

“-and that’s why I have chosen Helen Keller as my hero,” Angela said, flashing a wide grin. The teacher seemed pleased with her presentation, wondering out loud who could possibly top it, as Angela sat back down. 

“Let’s see who has to follow that!” announced the teacher, picking a piece of paper out of a bowl. "Jane!" Mrs. Gracey announced, calling El up to present.

Eleven and Will shared a glance, and Will nodded in encouragement. Giving a small smile, El got up and brought her diorama to the front of the classroom. 

“Hi,” El began, and was immediately greeted with an awkward silence. “For my hero, I… I chose my dad. And for my visual aid, I made a ‘direyama’ of our cabin.” 

“More like diarrhea,” a kid from the back piped up, causing laughter to ripple through the classroom. 

Eleven gave a fake smile, as if she were in on the ‘joke’ as well. 

“Quiet everyone,” Mrs. Gracey reprimanded. “Let’s be respectful.” 

“This is my dad. His name is Hopper,” continued El, a little more confident but also upset after a shaky start. “He made the best Eggos, and–” 

What the–  

Will jumped when something poked him in the ankle. He turned his head to the side to see the girl sitting next to him—was her name Rachel? He couldn’t remember—smiling coyly at him, slightly fluttering her eyelashes. He blinked, uncomfortable. Will quickly pulled his leg away from Rachel—that’s just what he was going to refer to her as now—and flicked his eyes back up to Eleven, who had continued. 

“This is Mr. Fibbly. He is a squirrel.”

This statement incited more laughter and a few questionable stares from students, including one asking, “What?” 

“And this is the alarm that my dad made,” Eleven kept going, ignoring her classmates, “I… I was never scared because- beca- because,” El stumbled, thrown off track by Angela’s raised hand. 

“Uh, Angela, let’s save questions until the end of Jane’s presentation,” Mrs. Gracey cut in. 

“Yeah. Sorry,” Angela began anyway, “I’m just, like, confused. I thought this was a presentation about a historical hero.” 

Shit, thought Will. Angela please for the love of God don’t make this a problem right now. 

“My dad was in the newspaper,” said El, somewhat confused, but also frustrated. 

“Your local paper?” Angela asked skeptically, then let out a laugh, which quickly spread to the rest of the class. “I just don’t think that’s what Mrs. Gracey meant by historical. This is supposed to be about famous people.”

Shit shit shit, thought Will, seeing El begin to tear up. 

“My dad is famous. He… he saved lots of lives. In a mall fire. He was a hero for people. And he was my hero too.” El looked around with the last sentence, as if daring people to contest her. 

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, but… it’s okay,” Angela decided to say anyway, personal mission accomplished. “I am so sorry Mrs. Gracey. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted clarity on the rules of the assignment.” 

The light flickered. Both Eleven and Will’s eyes went wide and found each other. What the hell? Thought Will. He thought her powers were still gone but… strong emotions, he realized. Angela must have pushed her to the edge. 

“Well, technically you are correct,” Mrs. Gracey admitted, “but Jane has decided to do her father, so please, continue with your presentation, Jane.”

Dustin

“That’s a negative, Dusty-bun,” came in Suzie’s voice through the radio. 

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, scratching out his guess and picking up his end of the device. “Try ‘ Tigers86’ .” It was one of the last ones left. 

“‘Tigers86’ Copy that. ”

A few seconds passed by, presumably from Suzie entering the code on her computer. 

“Jiminy crickets, Dusty! I’m in,” she announced. 

“Holy shit.” 

Someone suddenly banged on the door to Dustin’s bedroom. 

“What’s going on in there? You’re gonna be late,” his mother said.

“Don’t come in! I’m naked!” Dustin yelled back. He was in a critical stage of the operation, he couldn’t go and have his mom, of all people, ruin it. “I’m running out of time here,” he said, panicking a little. 

“Just hold your horsies, Dusty-bun.”

“Do you see it?” asked Dustin, after giving her a few minutes to watch his grades load. 

“Yeah, I see it. Yikes, Dusty,” she said, commenting on his 'D-' in Latin. 

“Yeah.” 

With a click, she changed it to an 'A'.

Robin

“And then there’s Heidi tomorrow night, but the problem with Heidi is that she’s going out of state for college. So it’s like do I wanna start another relationship that has no point other than sex?” Steve droned on, while Robin focused on doing her makeup despite the bumpy ride. “I mean, I just don’t know. Does that make sense to you?” 

He turned to Robin, who hadn’t said a word. 

“Robin, are you listening?”

“Uh, yeah, yes–” 

“What did I just say?”

“Something about sex with- with Linda,” guessed Robin. She had no idea which girl they were on at this point; Steve hadn’t shut up the entire ride. 

“No, I’m talking about Heidi!” 

“Cut me some slack, please!”

“Well–”

“Your love life is one of labyrinthine complexity, and it is seven in the morning, we have to go to the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse .” groaned Robin, tired of Steve’s endless laments. 

“You’re worried about a basketball pep rally? You expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah? So?”

“So, we both know what this is about, okay, I’m not buying that bullshit . This is about Vickie.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Yes it is! And you know what else I think–”

“I really don’t care what–” they really couldn’t stop cutting each other off this morning, could they? Robin supposed this was what she signed up for when she became Steve “the Hair” Harrington’s best friend. 

“I think you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta– you gotta be yourself.” 

“You’re literally quoting me to me, you do realize that.” 

“Well, maybe you need to listen to yourself, you ever think about that, smarty-pants? I mean I listened to you and now look at me. Boom, back in business.”

“It’s not the same thing, okay?”

“Why?”

“Well, you ask out a girl and she says no. Big deal. Nothing happens. Maybe your ego’s a little bruised, but I ask out the wrong girl and bam, I’m a town pariah.” 

“Yeah, I’d buy that, except that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“We just don’t know that, do we?”

“She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.” 

Robin rolled her eyes at that. Of course he had to reference something done at Family Video. 

“Do you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds?” he continued, pausing for his rhetorical question to take effect. “People who like boobies, Robin!” 

“Ew! Gross! Don’t say boobies.” 

“Boobies! Not a big deal, okay? I like boobies! You like boobies! Vickie likes boobies! Definitely!”

Robin shook her head in disbelief. How, in the name of God, did she get so close to this idiot. 

“Boobies!” he said one last time; the two stayed silent until they reached the school where Steve dropped off Robin. 

Robin called out to her friends, who had been walking towards the gym—the direction the school counselor was herding them all in. 

Chapter Text

Max

“Go support your Tigers! Go, Tigers!” 

Ugh, already?  

Max got up from her seat on the bus, emotionally unprepared for another day at her boring school. She wished the ride had taken longer; it wasn’t like she did any learning anyway. There was something peaceful about listening to her music while the scenery flashed by on the bus rides. 

“Max! Max!”

What now? Max thought, looking behind her, only to see Counselor Kelly motioning for her to take her headphones off. Huffing, Max complied. 

“Where were you yesterday?” Ms. Kelly asked. 

Oh shit. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot it was Thursday.” 

She hadn’t. Luckily, Kelly seemed to buy it. 

“Well, I’d like to see you today. Come straight after lunch, okay?”

Giving a small nod, Max just turned and left, slipping her headphones back on as she went. 

She didn’t notice Ms. Kelly’s worried gaze behind her. 

Mike

The gym blared with an organized cacophony. The sound of the marching band mixed with the clapping of the audience and the stomping of the cheer squad. It gave Mike a headache. He didn’t want to be here, he’d rather get the day over with so that it would be time for the Hellfire campaign. He had been looking forward to it all week, plus the day after he would get to see El. …and Will. 

“Now look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours,” Dustin unapologetically bragged, continuing an ‘argument’ from earlier. “It’s just that Suzie’s like, a certified genius.”

“You do realize El saved the world twice, right?” Mike deadpanned, rolling his eyes at Dustin’s unconvinced look.

“And yet you still have a ‘C’ in Spanish.” 

The hell, Dustin? What does that have to do with any– oh. Damn, Mike thought, realizing the implications of Dustin’s statement. He’s a lucky little shit, I’ll give him that. 

The sound of the band continued, as the cheerleaders ramped up the intensity of their act. The opening of the rally ended with a bang as someone was tossed in the air, another flipped around, and the band left off with a dramatic note. 

The cheer squad ran towards the animated bleachers as, “And let’s hear it for your Tigers!” rang out over the loudspeaker. 

Two students holding the each end of a large banner stood near the door on the far side of the gym and the basketball team burst through it, starting with Jason, the captain. Lucas was among the players who followed. 

Mike and Dustin shared an unimpressed glance, their—and Max’s—clapping unenthusiastic compared to the rest of the student body. 

“Good morning Hawkins High!” Jason yelled into the microphone, prompting a new round of cheering from the audience. 

“First off, hey,” He said, trying to speak over the crowd’s noise. “First off, I’d like to thank each and every one of you. Without your support, we wouldn’t be here. Give yourselves a big hand!” 

The crowd burst into whoops once more. Damn, they’re easy to please , thought Mike, rolling his eyes. Mike spotted Lucas trying to make eye contact, but avoided the other boy’s gaze. 

“And of course, I have to give a shout out to the best and prettiest fans of all time, the Tiger Cheer Squad!” 

It was at this point Mike began zoning out. He had no interest in the pep rally. When Jason started spouting nonsense about the ‘fire’ that their friends had died in though, Mike had to roll his eyes once more, with feeling this time. 

“-and now tonight, tonight we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” 

More cheering. Wait- 

“Tonight?” Mike asked Dustin, frantically. 

“How is that possible?” came the frustrated response. 

“They call it a tournament,” Max butted in sarcastically. “If you win one game, you go on to the next until there’s only one team left.”

Mike stared at Lucas, who was high-fiving his teammates. What are we supposed to do tonight, then?

Dustin

“I don’t get the big deal. Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night,” Lucas said.

Ludicrous, in my opinion, Dustin scoffed. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“Why don’t you just talk to your coach and get him to move the game?” Mike cut in, obviously annoyed. 

“I think that’s a great idea, Mike.” 

“ Thank you , Dustin.” 

Looks like this was the tactic Mike was going to use. Guilting/annoying Lucas into going along with them. At this point it seemed like the only thing that would work; Lucas was ‘too cool’ now to hang out with ‘losers’ like Dustin, Mike, and Eddie’s group. 

“This is the championship game,” Lucas said, exasperated. 

“And this is the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin exclaimed. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need you .” 

“Yeah,” added Mike, “and the Tigers don’t . You’ve been on the bench all year .” 

Damn, Mike. That was a bit harsh. He may have deserved it, but we are trying to convince him to go with us.

“That’s not the point," Lucas argued, trying to defend himself.

“ Please ,” said Dustin, “arrive at the point.” 

“If I get in good with these guys,” began Lucas, “I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” 

Of course. Of course it was about being popular. Lucas had always been the one most concerned with social status, and despite his ‘noble intentions’ he had always wanted to be at the center of attention. The good kind. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that we don’t want to be popular?” asked Mike. 

Despite his reason telling him that this wasn’t a good path to go on, something inside of Dustin screamed, Yes Mike! Get his ass! 

“So you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?” 

“We are nerds and freaks!” cried Dustin. 

“Yeah but maybe we don’t have to be!” 

Mike and Dustin went quiet. 

“Look, I’m tired of being bullied. I’m tired of girls laughing at us, I’m tired of feeling like a loser. We came to high school wanting things to be different, right?” 

The other two nodded. 

“So now we have that chance. I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie, get him to move Hellfire. Come to my game. Please.” 

The desperation in both his voice and his eyes reached the part of Mike and Dustin that did agree with him. They were tired of being bullied. They weren’t happy about Lucas skipping out on Hellfire, but they would try to move it. For Lucas. 

“Shit,” said Dustin; he could practically already hear Eddie’s response. 

The school bell rang. 

Max 

Music streamed in through her headphones. Her foot bounced up and down. She hated this room. Hated this chair. Hated Counselor Kelly. It was so, so goddamn stuffy. She needed to get out, she needed the music to be louder, she needed- 

“Can you remove your headphones, please?”

She stopped the music. 

“Sorry.” 

“A ‘C’ in English and a ‘C-’ in Spanish,” Ms. Kelly said, skimming Max’s report card. Max hated this, too. Who cared about stupid grades? It wasn’t like they really mattered anyway. 

“Yeah.” 

There wasn’t anything else to say. 

“Well that’s not normal for you,” Kelly continued. 

Great, she’s concerned, Max thought. Just leave me alone. 

“If you say so,” Max replied, skeptically. Who was Kelly to know what was normal and what wasn’t for Max, anyway? 

“How’s your mom holding up?”

None of your business. 

“She’s fine. I mean, she hates our new place, which is, like… yeah, it’s terrible, but… she’s fine.” 

“Is she still drinking?” Counselor Kelly asked. Max was already tired of this.  

Shut up. Just shut up. 

“Like, yeah a little, but… well, she’s working two jobs, so it’s not easy.” 

“It must not be easy for you either, with your stepdad gone.”

“It’s kind of better, honestly,” Max replied, still annoyed. 

God, how much time's left?   She thought, eyes flicking around for a clock that wasn't there. 

“Better how?” 

“He was an asshole? So, there’s less... assholery.”

Really, what did you want me to say? 

“Are you sleeping better?”

No. 

“Yeah, fine.” 

“So no more headaches.”

No, they’re still here, they're always here, and I hate them, they’re awful. 

Max shook her head no. 

“And the nightmares?” 

Max could hear screaming. She was back there. Back at that night where– where it had happened. Where Billy had died. And she hated herself for it. Hated that she hadn’t helped, that she hadn’t stopped it, that– that part of her was happy that he was gone. 

“Nope.” 

Counselor Kelly took a deep breath, obviously unconvinced, but that wasn’t Max’s current concern. No, currently, Max just needed to get out of there. 

“Max?” began Ms. Kelly. “What you’ve been through, what you’re still going through, it’s a lot for anyone.” 

Max’s leg bounced faster. Her eyes itched. They were tearing up. She hated getting emotional about this. She just… didn’t want to think about it anymore. 

“And it’s okay to not be okay. But I can only help you if you’re truthful, if you open up to me.” 

And why the hell would I do that? Max thought. I don’t even know you. 

But all she said was: “Yeah, I… I know, I’m- I’m being open.” 

Kelly didn’t believe her. It was obvious. Not that she was wrong, but it was getting annoying.  

“ I’m being open. ” reiterated Max, stressing her point and hardening her gaze. She was done for today. 

Once she left Kelly’s office, she had almost put her headphones back on when- 

“Max, hey.” 

She whirled around. Upon seeing Lucas’s face, she turned back and kept going, “Are you stalking me or something?” 

“Oh, no I… I just wanted to give you this.” 

What the hell- 

“What is this?” 

“A ticket to my game.” 

Of course. Goddamn basketball. It was all Lucas could even think about at this point. She sped up, wanting nothing to do with him. She stopped talking to him for a reason. 

“I know you never want to go to my games, but this one is kind of a big deal.” 

“A big deal? Lucas, you really care about this?” Max scoffed. 

“Yeah, I… I do. Maybe you should find something you care about too.” 

What. 

Max was done. She couldn’t deal with any of this shit anymore today. She stopped. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“Uh…” She could see on his face that he knew he had messed up, but she didn’t care. “You’re just… It’s… It’s like you’re not even here anymore. It’s… It’s like you’re a ghost or something.” 

As much as she hated to admit it, his comment struck a nerve. Because at the end of the day, he was right. She had let Billy’s death destroy her. It tore her away from her friends, from the things she loved. But what was she supposed to do? The crushing weight was so much– too much. She just wanted to forget. So she drowned herself in music. 

“A… a ghost? Really?”

“Max. I know something’s wrong.” 

Stop. 

“Yeah, right. Yeah, something must be wrong with me because I broke up with you.” 

They both knew he hadn’t meant it like that. He was just too close to the truth. She couldn’t get close to anyone. She just couldn’t. No one could know how... how broken she was. 

“No..” Lucas said, patient, but pleading. “No, that- that’s not what I meant.” 

“Lucas, look,” began Max, “people just… change , okay? That’s it. I’ve changed. It’s that simple.” 

No it’s not. She told herself. It’s not, and you know it. You owe him an explanation. 

No you don’t. There was another part of herself. The part she hated. You don’t owe him jack shit. Where was he when the Mind Flayer broke you? When you were struggling? You owe him nothing.

She turned to go. She stopped. She handed back the ticket. She wasn’t going to go anyway. 

“Good luck,” she said, before walking into the girls’ bathroom. It was the best she could give him.

Mike

“The Devil has come to America. Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned. Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ri-tual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even… murder!” Eddie finished, slamming the magazine down and sticking his tongue out. 

The rest of the table laughed at the outrageous claims made by the general public, knowing that the game in question was completely harmless. 

“Shit, he seems really revved up today,” Dustin commented. 

Mike knew he was right, “He’s always revved up. We’ll just act casual.” 

“Casual.”

“Casual,”

“Right, okay.”

“Totally,” Mike nodded, as the two took their lunch trays to the table. 

“-exactly, we’re the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game,” Eddie continued as Mike and Dustin sat down. “But as long as you’re into band,” Eddie clambered up onto the table and stood, looking around at the school, “or science… or parties,” he looked around at the respective cliques sitting at different tables, “or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets,” he yelled at the basketball players across the cafeteria. 

“You want something, freak?” 

Shit. Of course Eddie had to go and rile up Jason. The two couldn’t stop fighting over anything and everything. Mike would have been more shaken by Eddie’s earlier display, but he had learned early on that that was just who Eddie was. With a big flair for the dramatic and an… interesting sense of justice to say the least, Eddie Munson was the newest friend Mike, Dustin, and Lucas had made. He was just a little… intense sometimes, and that could be scary. 

At Jason’s prompting, Eddie merely babbled mockingly and stuck out his tongue, inciting laughter from the rest of Eddie’s table group. Dustin grinned, but Mike looked on, thoughtful. How the hell are we supposed to get him to move Hellfire? 

“It’s forced conforming. That’s what’s,” he raised his voice to a shout, running over to a teacher, “ killing the kids!” 

The teacher jumped and walked faster; Eddie stepped aside very gentleman-like for a pair of cheerleaders who passed by and said, “that’s the real monster.” 

“So, uh, speaking of monsters,” began Dustin, “uh, Lucas has to do his, uh… balls-in-laundry-baskets game. So,” here, Dustin gave a nervous chuckle, “...he’s not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight. And I know there’s no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike, we were talking,”

Why did you drag my name into this? Mike lamented internally, already seeing Eddie’s response on his face. 

“Shooting the shit,” Dustin continued, oblivious to Mike’s internal struggle, “and we were thinking that maybe we might…” 

Mike sighed. This was taking too long. 

“Postpone,” he cut in. 

The entire table burst out in complaint, stopped by a “Shut up!” from Eddie. 

“You saying Sinclair’s been taken in by the dark side?” Eddie asked, solemnly. 

“Uh, something like that,” Mike responded. 

“Something like that?” snapped Eddie, pelting Mike and Dustin with small pretzels that were in his hand; he was snacking on them. “And rather than find a sub for him, you want… you want to postpone ‘The Cult of Vecna’?”

“I- I don’t want to postpone it,” Mike stammered. “ We don’t want to postpone it. It’s just that, you know, most of the subs will be at the championship game.” 

“Oh, it’s the championship game?” Eddie got up from the table. 

“...Yeah.” Mike didn’t know if he should be scared or not. 

“Can I level with you?” Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes. “Jeff graduates this year,” he pointed in Jeff’s direction, “Gareth’s got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a ‘D’ in Ms. O’Donnell’s. If I don’t blow her final, I’m gonna walk that stage next month, I’m gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I’m gonna flip him the bird, I’m gonna snatch that diploma, and I’m gonna run like hell outta here.” 

Dustin laughed. Mike grinned. 

“Didn’t you say that last year?” asked Gareth, skeptically. 

“And the year before that,” added Jeff. 

“Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit,” Eddie said. “This year’s different. This year is my year. I can feel it. ‘86 baby. You know what that means? It means you boys are the future of Hellfire.” 

Eddie crept up behind Mike and Dustin and kneeled behind them. 

“I knew it the moment I saw you. You sat on that table right over there, looking like… looking like two little lost sheep.”

He looked at Dustin. 

“You were wearing a Weird Al T-shirt, which I thought was brave.” 

“Thank you,” Dustin responded. 

Eddie turned his attention to Mike. 

“Mike, you were wearing whatever shit your mommy bought you from the goddamn Gap.” 

The table burst out laughing, and Mike couldn’t help smiling.

“And we showed you,” Eddie continued, a little harsher, grabbing both Dustin and Mike and pulling them up from their seats, “that school didn’t have to be the worst years of your lives, right?”

“No,” Mike quickly agreed as Dustin nodded. 

“Well I’m here to tell you that there are other little lost sheepies out there who need help.” Eddie said, motioning towards the rest of the cafeteria. “Who need you . And all you guys gotta do is get your Bo-Peeps on and go and find one.” he finished, pushing the two into the fray. 

Despite being held back at least twice and being a little too intense sometimes, Eddie was, at his core, a good guy. Sure, he made fun of others and riled up the basketball team for fun, but at the end of the day, Mike knew that Eddie had his back. Which is why Mike put up with him. The man was just passionate about the things he loved, and he answered to no one, not to rules, regulations, or society. 

What the hell, thought Mike. Why not find someone new. Fresh blood might be interesting, anyway. 

Oh, how wrong he was.

Eddie

Strange. That was all Eddie could think about this situation. It was strange. After all, it wasn’t every day he was asked to postpone Hellfire, and it was a one in a million type of day that the head cheerleader of Hawkins High reached out to him to make a drug deal of all things. 

Chrissy was the picture perfect good girl of Hawkins. Her life was on the “right track”, she had a socially acceptable boyfriend that she actually loved, and she was one of the most popular students at Hawkins High. 

Eddie, on the other hand, was a social outcast. He had been held back numerous times, he was the freak of Hawkins, and he was the definition of a loser. 

So yeah. Strange was a good word to describe it. 

Eddie finally found the meeting spot in the forest and saw Chrissy sitting at the table. She was obviously anxious; she picked at her cuticles and her leg bounced up and down. 

“Hey?” Eddie said, announcing his presence. 

Chrissy jumped, then turned to look at him. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie apologized, taking a seat across from her. 

He placed a box down in front of her while she looked on, as anxious as ever. 

“There’s, uh… there’s nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here.” That was, in fact, precisely the reason why he chose this spot. No one wanted to creep around the forest behind the school, which made it the perfect spot for covert, not-so-legal deals. “We’re safe, I promise,” he continued, opening up the box to reveal his stash of weed. 

“So, how does this work exactly?” Chrissy asked; Eddie’s words seemed to have no effect, as the poor girl seemed terrified. 

“Oh, just like any other old sale, except uh, cash only, and, uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

It didn’t work. 

“I’ll do you a half ounce for, uh… twenty. What do you say? That’s plenty of bang for your buck, should last you a while.” 

Chrissy seemed to consider it, but then gasped and whirled around; a squirrel crunched leaves underfoot running across the ground. 

“Hey, uh, we don’t need to do this,” Eddie said. The poor girl was obviously uncomfortable, and whatever she needed the drugs for obviously was more of something for therapy. He moved the box off of the table. “Just give me the word and I’ll just walk away, okay?” 

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want you to go. It’s just… do you ever feel like… you’re losing your mind?” 

“Um… you know, just… on a daily basis.” 

Being the freak of Hawkins does have its perks after all, thought Eddie, bitterly, but he grinned at Chrissy, trying to comfort her. 

“I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High. You know, this isn’t the first time that we’ve, um… hung out.” 

“No?”

“You don’t remember?” Eddie asked. It was fine, he didn’t expect her to, anyway.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“That’s okay.” 

A somewhat awkward silence fell over them when Eddie clutched his chest and fell backwards, rolling out of his seat. He stood up, leaves stuck in his hair to a shocked but laughing Chrissy. 

“I wouldn’t remember me either, Chrissy. Honestly, uh, do I have stuff in my hair,” he asked, swiping at his messy tangles. 

Chrissy only laughed harder. Finally, thought Eddie. That overhanging tension was finally gone. 

“You don’t remember me?” he asked, jokingly, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy laughed. 

“Middle school, talent show,” Eddie said, watching the realization start to dawn on Chrissy. “You were doing this cheer thing. You know, the… the thing you do,” he continued, trying to replicate Chrissy’s moves from so long ago. “It was pretty cool actually. And I… I was with my band…” 

“Corroded Coffin!” Chrissy blurted out, remembering. 

“Corro– You do remember!” Eddie said, triumphant. 

“Oh my God! Yes, of course! With a name like that, how could I forget?”

“I dunno. You’re a freak.” 

Chrissy stared at him, not unkindly, with her mouth open, trying to find the words she wanted to say. “No, you just… You looked so…” 

“Different?” Eddie cut in. “Yeah, well, uh, my hair was buzzed, and I didn’t have these sweet old tatties yet,” he explained, showing off his tattoos on his collarbone. 

“You played guitar, right?” 

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do. You should come see us. Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It’s pretty cool. We… We actually get a crowd… of about five drunks.” 

Chrissy laughed again; Eddie smiled, seeing her finally feel at ease. 

“It’s not exactly the Garden but, uh, you gotta start somewhere, right? So…” 

“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be like,” Chrissy said, smiling. 

“Mean and scary?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you’d be kinda mean and scary too,” admitted Eddie, as if he were telling a huge secret.

“Me?” 

“Terrifying. Uh, so,” he continued, placing the box back on the table, “in other good news, flattery works with me,” disappointing, but true, “so… twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You’re robbing me blind here, you know,” he finished, smiling.

Chrissy’s face took on a more serious appearance, albeit with much less tension than before. 

“Do you have anything, maybe, stronger?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“Aw, no Chrissy. You don’t wanna get involved in this stuff, I promise. You’ve got so much going for you,” he said, trying to convince her. “Hey, how about you come on down to my place tonight and we smoke this together. It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

“Oh, um. Okay, I guess.” 

“Awesome,” Eddie said, closing the box once more. 

“Wait, but-” 

“Don’t worry about it. This one’s on me. It’s your first time, plus it’s for a friend.” 

What the hell did you just say, Munson? Eddie screamed internally. He had called Chrissy, Chrissy Cunningham, a friend. Him, the freak of Hawkins High, no, the freak of Hawkins. But, strangely enough, she just kind of looked at him with a thoughtful gaze. 

“Yeah… yeah, alright. See you later,” she said, with a little bit of a smile, getting up and walking back towards the school.

What the hell… thought Eddie. Yep. This day was nothing but strange. 

Chapter Text

Will

School had pretty much ended. After Eleven’s disastrous presentation, Will had already been ready to go home. He compensated for being unable to leave by hiding out in the bathrooms and doodling. He also tried to comfort El, but it had been clear that she needed some time alone. He didn’t know where Eleven had gone, but he busied himself with packing up his stuff. He knew they’d meet up at Argyle’s van anyway, so he didn’t bother worrying himself about her.

He should have. 

He left the main building to find a weird circle formed in the courtyard. That was the first sign that something was wrong; usually everyone separated themselves into their own friend groups, so the fact that most of the student body seemed to be clumped together was a warning all on its own. The second, and more obvious sign was the fact that Eleven was crouched on her knees in front of a laughing Angela and her various cronies. Her diorama lied on the floor, squished on one side. Will heard laughter. He was scared, not for Eleven, but for Angela; whatever happened next wouldn’t be good. 

Will gawked at the scene, frozen as he watched the bullies walk away, laughing. Eleven stood. Will dropped what he was holding and sprinted. 

“Angela!” 

Eleven’s furious yell only fueled Will to go faster. If Eleven hurt Angela here, she would have to deal with the consequences, something that she wasn’t used to. Who knew what the aftermath would be anyway; Will couldn’t let anything happen to his sister. 

A wind picked up on the clear and sunny day. A few onlookers looked around, surprised, but they were soon knocked out of the way by Will’s rush to get to Eleven. 

No. No no no no no, Will thought frantically, the blood draining from his face. 

Eleven’s nose had started to bleed. 

Eleven

That– that bitch. 

Eleven had finally had enough. Ever since she had moved to California her time was spent being tormented by the consistent pestering of Angela and her little gang. No one else wanted to risk dealing with the bullies, so Eleven was forced to suffer alone, albeit with the help of Will, but he tended to stay out of people’s ways at school. He mainly helped at home, before classes, or after school, but she didn’t blame him for it. 

Out of the rest of the D&D group back at home—Hawkins, this was her home now—Will had had it the worst; he was a “nerd”, he was Jonathan Byers’ brother, he was shy and non confrontational, and he was rumored to be “queer”. 

Whatever that is, Eleven had thought. It must have been something bad if even his own father had mistreated him for it. Will wasn’t a bad person, though. He was gentle and he would do anything for his friends. 

But Eleven wasn’t thinking about any of that now. 

Her vision had gone red with rage, and her—seemingly newly returned—powers flared out of control. A telekinetic breeze whipped her hair around and fluttered around the students watching. The power concentrated itself into the palm of her hand, and she felt blood drip down her nose and start collecting in her ears. 

“El! EL!” 

She didn’t hear him calling for her. All Eleven could focus on was destroying Angela and making her suffer just as much as Eleven did. 

“ELEVEN!” 

She snapped out of it as she snapped her head to the side, just in time to see a red and brown blur rush at her and knock her to the ground. 

The power disappeared. 

“Holy shit,” laughed Angela. 

Eleven could barely hear her, focused on the pain in her side caused by the fall. She felt Will’s weight lift off of her, and she wiped her nose and ears with her hand. 

“What was that?” one of Angela’s cronies asked incredulously, also laughing. 

Most of the courtyard was laughing, but a few of the more perceptive ones weren’t. They had felt what could have been. El took Will’s outstretched hand and he pulled her to her feet. 

“Hey! Hey, what’s going on here?” Mrs. Gracey asked, pushing her way through the crowd to get to Eleven. “What’s going on? Jane? Jane, did someone do this?” Mrs. Gracey gestured to the project lying on the ground, smashed from when one of Angela’s friends had crushed it under his foot. 

“I tripped,” El replied, monotone. She had to keep a straight face here. She wasn’t about to drag Mrs. Gracey into this, not when this was something between her and Angela. “It was just an accident.” 

Eleven glanced at Angela, only slightly. 

Mrs. Gracey sighed angrily, “Alright, Angela. You come with me.” 

The crowd stirred up again as a fuming Mrs. Gracey made her way towards Angela. Eleven felt her stomach flipping around. 

“What? Why?” asked Angela, as innocently as possible for someone who had, just moments ago, been tormenting a young woman. 

Mrs. Gracey only replied, “Let’s go,” quite sternly and grabbed Angela’s arm, dragging her away from the throng of students, presumably toward her office. 

“I didn’t do anything!” Angela cried, frantically. “Tell her, Jane. Tell her!”

Eleven only looked on as Angela and Mrs. Gracey moved farther and farther away. Her vision blurred and her eyes stung. 

“El, are you okay? Shit. It’s not that bad, I’ll help you rebuild it.” she could barely hear him. 

No, she wanted to say. I’m not okay. This– this is a nightmare. I want to go home. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She couldn’t make Joyce and Will and Jonathan feel guilty about the move, not after all they had done for her. And knowing them, her kind-hearted family, they would blame themselves. She couldn’t let them do that. 

So she merely collapsed into his arms, sobbing. When his grip tightened around her into a hug, she relaxed a little more. 

The courtyard moved on from their entertainment.

Robin

You could barely hear the cheerleaders over the blare of the marching band’s horns and drums. 

“Let’s go Tigers!” 

The basketball teams ran out into the gym and started warming up. The crowd was already going wild, and despite generally enjoying being a band kid, Robin felt a bit overwhelmed by all of the people around, even if no one’s attention was on her. The butterflies fluttering around in her stomach and the pounding of her heart were also caused, in part, by Vickie’s presence. 

Vickie was just so… Vickie. Robin couldn’t find the words, but the girl next to her just seemed so indescribably perfect . Her silky, fiery hair that Robin just wanted to run her fingers through shined under the light of the gym, and her laugh… oh her laugh. Everything would seem to stop. Robin denied it, but she had most definitely fallen and fallen hard.  

And she was kind, she was funny, she was smart. She was incredible. 

She was… nudging Robin with her elbow. 

Robin jumped slightly. 

“What?” she asked in a soft whisper. 

“You missed your cue,” Vickie responded.

“Oh shit, thanks.” Robin began playing along with the other trumpeteers. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Robin watched Steve climb up to the top row of the bleachers with… Brenda, was it? 

“You know, that’s an interesting point, thank you so much for bringing that up, Brenda.”

Yup. It was Brenda. Robin didn’t personally understand his attraction to her—she wasn’t particularly cute or hot, and from Robin’s perspective, somewhat of a bimbo. She seemed like a lot of other girls their age. Fake and obsessed with boys.

The band stopped as the principal took the floor. He stepped up to the microphone and announced, “Everyone now please rise for the national anthem.” 

The gym collectively stood up. 

 “Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest. All the way from Nashville, our very own, Tammy Thompson!” 

The crowd erupted in cheers. 

What the shit? Robin instinctively looked up at Steve, who made eye contact with her. They stared at each other with their mouths open. After all, what were the chances? 

Tammy walked in, smiling and waving at an adoring audience. She stood behind the microphone as a student yelled, “We love you Tammy!”  

“O say, can you see,” the off-key start met a slight interruption from the mic’s feedback. It squealed through the speakers. 

Robin let out a huff of amusement. Tammy continued, “By the dawn’s early light…”

Steve met Robin’s eyes again and whispered, “Told you. Muppet.” 

“Okay, she does sound like a Muppet,” responded Robin, with the same low tone. 

Next to her, Vickie laughed quietly, “Oh my God, totally. She sounds like Kermit.” 

“I was thinking it was more like Miss Piggy.” 

Vickie snorted. Robin smiled, “I used to think she sounded good ‘cause I had this massive crush—” upon realizing what she said, Robin stopped herself immediately. 

“Sorry?”

“Um, we… we took a… a massively hard class together. We were… we were in Mrs. Click’s class together,” Robin said, trying to correct her mistake. “Yeah. Uh, sorry, were you asking me a question?” 

“No,” chuckled Vickie, flashing Robin an amused grin. 

“Oh, okay.” Robin looked down. She sighed, cursing her loose tongue. She would often blurt out things she didn’t want to when she was nervous. And she was nervous around Vickie a lot.  

“...and the rocket’s red glare,” Tammy sang on, off-key as ever. “The bombs bursting in air.” The microphone punctuated each line with somewhat aggressive feedback. “Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there…” 

Lucas

This was it. The big day. After so much time, the Tigers had finally made it to the final game. The championship. The victory was so close, Lucas could taste it. The metallic tang of the trophy, the— okay, no, he was getting a bit weird. 

Yes he was mildly (read: immensely) disappointed that neither Max nor his two best friends made it to his game, but his excitement hadn’t dimmed. He had already heard, very bluntly, in fact, from Max that she wouldn’t be watching, and the boys were probably at Hellfire. He was sure they had asked Eddie to move it, but there was no way the man had agreed. They had probably been pressured into finding a sub; Eddie could be a little intense at times. 

He would, however, be much happier if he could actually play. 

Like Mike had said, he had been stuck on the bench all year, and he had been practicing as much as the rest of the team. It was just unfair. But Lucas was content. He still felt like a part of the team. It was just that, he had joined the basketball team because basketball was fun. 

“Let’s go Tigers!” 

The cheerleaders and the crowd hyping up the game distracted Lucas from too much self-pity. The teams were practically neck and neck. The second the Tigers took the lead, the opposing team immediately caught up. 

Shit. One of Lucas’s teammates had been knocked to the ground by the opposing school. Two other players walked him to the bench. He was limping. This wouldn’t be good. 

“Sinclair, you’re in,” the coach said, upon seeing the condition of the boy. 

“Huh?” As much as he wanted to play, he couldn’t screw up the final. No, he would end up being in way over his head. He couldn’t do this. 

“You’re in. Son, let’s go!”

Lucas threw off his jacket and shucked his breakaway pants to the side. He raced onto the court. This was finally his chance to prove himself and he wasn’t going to shit all over the reputation he had made this past year. The Tigers were going to win.  

Jason scored again. However, with only a few minutes left on the clock, the opposing team took the lead. Down by one, Jason, the team’s captain, called for a time out. 

“Here, on inbound,” the coach said, explaining the last minute strategy. “They’re gonna try to take away Jason and double-team him.” 

The band had flared back up again, and, along with the cheerleaders, it was harder to hear than ever. 

“That is gonna free up Patrick on the left.” 

“Wait, no no no,” interjected Jason. “You gotta let me take the shot. Winners find a way to win. Let me find a way. Just get me the ball,” he said to a teammate. “Get me the ball.” 

Lucas felt invisible. He was going to change that. 

A few minutes later and they were back in the game, Jason had the ball. He shot it. He missed. 

And then Lucas had it. He had taken the rebound. There were five seconds left. This was it. It was now or never.

He planted his feet, pivoted, and jumped, releasing the ball at the highest point. His form? Impeccable. His confidence? Nonexistent. But he did it anyway. The buzz of the clock rang throughout the gym as the ball sailed through the air. The ball bounced off the rim. Off the backboard. And… in. 

He made it. Three. Points. 

The crowd went ballistic. 

They had won, the Tigers, Hawkins, had finally won after years. And it was Lucas, Lucas , who had made it happen. 

His heart was still pounding, but he wanted to laugh. It had paid off. All of the training, all of the practice. He had done it.

The entire team as well as the cheerleaders surrounded him, screaming out of joy. Jason lifted him up, and they carried him on their shoulders. 

This. This was all he ever wanted. To be acknowledged. And it felt so good. 

“Lucas! Lucas! Lucas!” The chant, started by the team, then taken up by the crowd swept through the gym just like the buzzer had previously. 

Outside, the ecstasy still hadn’t died down completely. 

“Party at Benny’s, boys!” yelled Jason, who was met with a chorus of “yeah!”s by the rest of the team. Lucas was still too happy to speak. He could feel the leftover adrenaline shake his core. 

And then, walking out of the school, triumphant… Hellfire. He had expected it of course, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. His smile slightly slipped off his face. He did, however, only have himself to blame. He was the one that decided basketball was more important. And by God it was worth it. 

But… but was that Steve with them? 

He almost laughed. Of course Steve had gotten roped in. It was probably Dustin’s idea. He’d check in with them later. 

He had a party to get to. 

Steve 

Half a basketball game earlier…

Steve watched the game intently. Though he hated to admit it, they were doing better than the Tigers ever were when Steve had gone to Hawkins High. The thought did, however, make a foul taste seep into his mouth. Of course the Tigers had to win the championship the year after Steve had graduated, and of course Brenda had to bring it up. 

Brenda was, among other things, one of the better girlfriends Steve had had over the past year or so. Yes she was ditzy, and self centered, and generally uninteresting, but she was better than the others, right? 

Steve just didn’t know anymore. After Nancy and… and after Billy, it felt like something had changed. He had always known Nancy was too good for him, and he had treasured their relationship while it lasted, but Billy… he just didn’t know. Meeting Billy had– had changed something. They were never together—there was no way Steve would have ever been with an asshole like that. But there had been… something. A certain feeling, if you would. Whatever it was, it made it much easier to accept Robin for who she was, much easier than most others anyway. 

Steve felt a staticky crackle from his pocket. Dammit, Henderson, what now? He told Brenda that he needed to head to the restroom and slipped out of the gym, hopefully unnoticed. 

He wasn’t. Robin saw him leave. 

The crackle repeated itself, this time with a, “Steve—*static*—Steve come meet us in the school’s basement.” 

“Henderson, what do you want?” Steve said, quietly but forcefully. 

On the other side of the walkie-talkie, he heard Dustin groan, “Dammit, Steve, we need you right now, okay?” 

“But what about the championship?”

“Screw the championship! It’s the final night of Eddie’s campaign!” 

Eddie. Of course. Steve’s jaw hardened. Henderson couldn’t shut up about him. Eddie this, Eddie that. Steve had had it. He was going to teach this Eddie guy a lesson. 

“Fine. I’ll be there in five.” 

Dustin

“Steve.” 

Dustin hadn’t been sure what his idea would be met with, but so far, it didn't seem good. 

“Steve?!” Mike said again, giving Dustin an, Are you insane? type of look.

“Yes, Steve . Look, we tried everyone else, didn’t we? Max was about as helpful as a wet sock, and no one bought your, ‘a die, but it has up to twenty sides ’ bullshit. Steve was the likeliest to get here.” 

“There’s no way Steve is going to miss the championship ga—”

*Static* *Crackle* 

“Fine. I’ll be there in five,” came Steve’s voice over the radio. 

Dustin and Mike gaped at the device, open mouthed and in shock. After processing, Dustin turned to Mike and flashed a wide grin. 

“I told you! I told you he’d do it!” Dustin declared, excitedly pointing a finger at Mike. 

Mike rolled his eyes. “Fine, you were right. He better get here fast though, Eddie’s waiting for us.” 

“Yeah, no shit. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute, he did say to give him five.” 

The seconds ticked by. Both boys anxiously watched the clock. It felt like hours had passed, and Steve still hadn’t arrived. 

“Okay, there’s no way it’s only been two minutes ,” Mike groaned.

“Shut up, would you? Stop whining, he’s gonna get here.” 

“Yeah right, I bet that–”

Slam. “Hey, Henderson, let’s get going already.” Steve walked by as the doors swung closed behind him. “Wheeler,” he nodded at Mike. Mike nodded back.

See? Dustin mouthed at Mike. I told you he’d be here. 

Mike rolled his eyes and followed, as Dustin jogged a little to catch up to Steve. 

“Why are you trying to act cool?” Dustin asked.

“Shut up.” 

“No, seriously, you know all of us are dorks right?” 

“I said shut up, Henderson.”  

The three of them made their way to the D&D room. Mike opened the door, and Dustin followed him and Steve inside. 

“Well well well, look who finally decided to show up,” Eddie said. “Who’s this posh, pretty boy?” he continued, faking a bad British accent while nodding at Steve and curling his lip in distaste. 

“Come on man,” Dustin said. “You asked for a sub. We delivered.” 

“This is Hellfire Club. Not time to step right on up and see the freakshow, got it?”  

“Listen, I’m not here to make fun of anyone, alright? Henderson said that you guys needed me, so I’ll play,” Steve interjected, annoyed. 

“So, the king speaks,” Eddie said, mockingly. “Do you have any orders for us, your Highness?”

The others, Gareth and Jeff and the like, snickered. 

“Hey, you know what? One, I’m not ‘the king’, and two, I have seen horrors beyond your greatest nightmare, so forgive me if I’m not scared by anything you throw at us. If you guys don’t need a sub, I will leave, but you might have a hard time finding anyone else.” 

Eddie scowled. Clearly he was unhappy, but Steve was right, at this point, it would be impossible to find anyone else. 

“Fine. But this is a one time thing , got it?” Eddie said through a clenched jaw, moving closer to Steve and looking him right in the eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever man,” Steve replied, rolling his eyes at Eddie’s intimidation tactics, and taking a seat at the table where Mike had already sat down. 

“Do you even have a character yet?” Eddie asked.

“Nah.” 

Eddie groaned. “Dammit, I hate newbies. Jeff, help him out, would you?” 

Jeff rolled his eyes and sat down next to Steve with a character sheet. 

Well, that could’ve gone worse, Dustin thought as he sat down too. 

Chapter Text

Steve

Why am I even here? Thought Steve, staring at the degenerates before him. 

A fair question. Moments ago he had been on a date with a girl . A date that just rubbed in his face that he had never won a single championship, and a girl who was just as boring as her name. 

I mean, Brenda? Who calls their kid Brenda? Good name for someone’s Nana, maybe. 

So yeah. A date with a girl. 

While earlier he had snapped at Eddie with his, quote, “horrors beyond your greatest nightmare”, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated. You could get used to smashing monsters with a nailed bat, but sitting next to the same people who were the exact opposites of who you were at possibly the peak of your life? Yeah, that’s a different story. 

“So,” Eddie said, his voice gravelly, but not in a rough and macho way. More like when his aunt Edna had one too many to drink and decided to finish the night off with a cigarette. “We’ve got you a chaotic good half-elf rogue with the stats on the sheet. Name?” 

“Uhhh… Steve?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, muttering something about “the popular crowd” and “brainless” before restating, “I’m not asking for your name. Name your character.” 

“Yeah,” said Steve, pretending to have understood the first time. “I’m going with Steve. It’s not like I’m ever going to play again.” 

“...Steve?” says Eddie, eyes narrowed in confusion. “Lame. Fine then, Steve . Henderson’ll show you how to make checks and actions since he brought you. We’re not playing an easier campaign just because you’re new.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Fine by me, Eddie ,” he says, trying to imitate the previously used tone. Somehow, the effect just isn’t the same. 

He’s already sitting next to Dustin, so he just tries to make himself look as small as possible and watch the game play out. 

Eddie   

Why the hell was he here? Thought Eddie, staring a little less openly at Steve than he had been earlier. 

` When Eddie and Steve were still in high school together, Steve would never acknowledge him, nevermind sitting at the same table and playing Dungeons and Dragons with him. It was fine, he was fine, he could do this. 

But that crush he’d had right up until Steve had first opened his mouth suddenly flared up again, and it wasn’t because Steve was sitting right across the table and had just delivered an annoyingly hot, very riled up miniature speech as to why he should be allowed into the meeting. 

It’s just the hair , Eddie told himself, taking a deep breath and pointedly looking at anything but Steve. King Steve eats people like you for breakfast.  

But that was just the thing. This wasn’t King Steve. Although the “horrors beyond your greatest nightmare” was obviously bullshit, there was no denying that something about him had fundamentally changed. It wasn’t enough to lower Eddie’s guard, and there was still no way Eddie would consider him friend material, much less anything else, but there was no way that King Steve would ever find himself sitting at a table with a bunch of—nerds would be a polite way of putting it—playing the very game he used to beat people up for behind the history classrooms. The thought made him frown softly to himself. 

“Eddie, man, you good?” Gareth whispered, bringing him out of his racing train of thought. 

Eddie blinked himself back into the present, realizing, a little embarrassedly, that the party was waiting on him to start. Clearing his throat, he started the game with, “Right, sorry. I’m sure you all remember where we’ve left off, especially with how important tonight’s campaign is. His Majesty–” 

“ Steve. ” 

“Whatever,” Eddie waved away the interjection, “can follow along. I’m sure he’ll pick it up eventually.” 

Eddie had planned this campaign very thoroughly. You could say it was his child. He said it was his child. And he was not letting the appearance of one Steve Harrington of all people, ruin it. 

Diving into the story, he led the party through their arrival to the seemingly abandoned village, and from there to the lair of the Cult of Vecna. Due to some failed perception checks, the party had missed out on hints of the surprise that lied ahead, but picked up on more obvious clues, such as the footprints that were much too fresh to hide the fact that the village had been occupied recently, and the small blood spatters on a door frame, that indicated that something or someone hostile was nearby. 

So the party was already on their guard entering the hidden room where the cultists were meeting, but Eddie smiled his knowing—and slightly maniacal—smile, sure that there was no way they could see what was coming next. The surprise at the start of the meeting had worn off by now, and the sparkle in his eyes that came with every session was back in full as he held his party in suspense. Even Steve was fully invested in what came next, a fact that made Eddie surprisingly proud of himself. 

“The hooded cultists chant,” Eddie said ominously, fully aware the party was hanging onto his every word, “Hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna. They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar.” 

Mike and Dustin sit up in their seats, and Garreth and Jeff narrow their eyes and grit their teeth in preparation for a boss battle. Steve is paying attention, but doesn’t quite understand how this is any different from the previous situations. Eddie smiles wider. 

“But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm. But his left eye!” he declares dramatically, acting out the missing limbs he has just mentioned. 

An uproar overtakes the table. The kids shout “no!” and “shit!” as Mike bangs the table and Dustin hangs his head in his hands. Steve looks mildly confused, just a little more than normal. It makes sense—he hadn’t been at the meetings when Vecna had ‘died’. 

“Vecna’s dead!” Jeff exclaims. 

“He was killed by Kas!” Mike adds. 

“So it was thought, my friends, so it was thought,” Eddie smugly replies, bringing out a figurine of Vecna. “But Vecna lives!” he declared, placing him on the miniature throne of fire on the table.  

Mike  

“You are scared. You’re tired. You are injured.” 

Mike barely hears Eddie over the shock and frustration at the news of Vecna’s survival. Sure, it was only a game, but he’d be damned if that villain would survive the night. 

“Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?” 

Running was definitely the smarter option, but they had come too far to just give up now.

“Come on,” goaded Eddie, pressuring a quick decision. 

Dustin raises his hand for a moment, signaling Eddie to give him a moment to think. 

“I say we fight,” Dustin says, matter-of-factly, after about a minute. 

Jeff’s already smiling as Dustin adds, “To the death.” 

Mike feels his face twist into a small grin as he nods, echoing, “To the death.”

Steve looks a little confused by the whole situation, and Mike can’t blame him. Why did Dustin bring him in the first place? Well yeah, they couldn’t find anyone else, but come on . Steve? This was hardly his crowd. Still, Mike feels a strange fondness as Steve shakes his head, bringing himself back into the moment before agreeing, “To the death.” 

Mike smiled wide as the table began to cheer, “To the death! To the death!” 

This. This was what DnD was all about. Bonding over a stupid game, bonds with the same strength as a life or death scenario without, you know, actually being in danger. Eddie started laughing as well, a sort of cackle that would be disconcerting if Mike didn’t know him as well as he did. Even though he looked out of place and still nervous, Steve was feeling the energy too, everyone who survived the Upside Down inevitably did.

Eddie sat down with a smug and satisfied smile. A good hit from Dustin sends Vecna’s hit points flying downwards; a dice roll had never felt so nerve wracking. Then it was Mike’s turn. The party waited with bated breath as he shook the D20, trying to control his breathing. 

Shit. 

It’s a bad roll, just reaching a five. Add that with Mike’s stats, and he barely takes two damage off of Vecna’s health. He feels like he’s let the table down as everyone groans, each letting out some sort of cry of disappointment. It feels very fitting for what his life’s been like recently. Social outcast, constantly overshadowed by his friends. Dustin was charming, Lucas was athletic, Will was, well, Will . He was strong, stronger than any of them. Will was the only one who could really claim he survived the Upside Down. He was the only one who had ever come out alive; at least, for the amount of time he had been in there. He was smart too. He had figured out how to communicate with Mrs. Byers and how to fight the Mind Flayer from the inside. 

Outdone by his best friend and his girlfriend. Mike didn’t even need to list how Eleven had changed both his life and the world. In a word, he was jealous. In more than a word, he desperately wished he could just help them. He didn’t want to just stand next to them, he wanted to change things. Especially when Will and Eleven had to suffer through so much alone. 

I wish they’d never left. They’d love this, he thought, smiling sadly. Come spring break, he was definitely going to introduce them to Eddie. While he wasn’t as close to their Dungeon Master as Dustin was, he couldn’t deny his innate charisma that just flowed. Even though he was kind of intimidating, he was also easy to get along with, even though he liked to make others think otherwise. 

Mike almost laughed at how one bad roll sent him spiraling so quickly. The last mess involving the Upside Down had definitely left him shaken to say the least. 

 “Argh!” Jeff yelled; a bad roll from him had cost him his character. 

Mike refocused on the game; it would take a lot more struggle now that they were down a party member. Luckily, Steve made a great roll. Even though his character was new, he did almost as much damage as Dustin had. Mike was pretty sure Eddie was going easy on him. Despite appearances, he was a big softie. Gareth’s roll, however, lost them another party member. 

This time, nerves swept the table, as nothing mattered more than the next few rolls. Mike’s head was fully back in the game as Dustin’s next roll resulted in a number that sparked an argument between Dustin and Eddie on whether Vecna or Dustin’s character would take the hit, resulting in no damage on either side. 

A couple of bad rolls later, Eddie openly laughed in their faces almost evilly, and for the first time all battle, the party was definitely shaken. 

“Time-out! Time-out!” Gareth called out, signaling for a player only meeting. Everyone but Eddie, who sat back in his chair, relaxed as ever, stood up to huddle behind the table. 

Steve

Even though he had no idea what was happening, Steve couldn’t deny that he was having a good time. In fact, he was even a little annoyed at his past self for having an ego too big to play before. Even though the looks he got from Eddie and his friends put him off at first, the more they played, the less their social status mattered as they all immersed themselves in the game. 

Steve was no longer Steve. No, he was the chaotic good half elf rogue, who used his boyish charms to form connections and help their party retrieve information and the occasional key, Steve . 

Yeah no, Eddie was right, that sounds so lame, he thought as he wrapped one arm around Henderson and the other around Jeff—differences forgotten—as they discussed their strategy against Vecna. 

“Guys, I hate to say this, but we’ve got to flee,” Jeff said, starting off the meeting. 

“I concur,” Gareth added. 

“Didn’t we just agree ‘to the death’?” Steve asked. 

“That wasn’t literal ,” Jeff replied, exasperated. 

Well geez, my bad then, Steve thought bitterly. How was I supposed to know if you didn’t tell me? 

“ Vecna just decimated us,” Gareth pushed. “We can’t kill him with two players.” 

“You too?” Dustin said, a little annoyed. “He only has fifteen hit points left. Don’t be pussies.” 

Yes! Thank you Henderson! Leave it to Dustin to voice what Steve was too scared to say. It wasn’t because he was scared to speak his mind, but because, well, these weren’t his people. It might not be the most tactful decision to fight them so openly on a major decision, especially since he just learned how to play. 

“Pussies? Really?” Jeff said, not quite offended, but definitely confrontational. “‘Cause we’re not delusional ?”

Ouch. Alright, that’s it. 

“Delusional, how about not cowards?” Steve replied. Besides, fifteen hit points was definitely doable. 

“Hey,” Eddie called from across the room. “If I may interject, gentlemen, whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running,” he said with an annoying, cocky smile. 

Oh there was no way Steve was backing down now. 

“Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?” 

Something about that damn smile just got on Steve’s nerves. He wanted to wipe it off stupid Eddie Munson’s face. 

“One sec,” Dustin said. 

The group whirled back to the meeting. 

“What do you think Mike?” Henderson asked. 

“How many hit points do you and Steve have left?” 

“Twelve,” they both replied. 

“It’s risky as hell,” Mike said after a moment of thought, “but you’re the ones on the battlefield, so it’s your call.” 

“What do you say, Steve?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Steve side-eyed Dustin with a determined look.

“Screw it,” Dustin said, shaking his head and turning back to Eddie.

“Let’s kill the son of a bitch,” Steve said, voicing the decision to continue. 

“The chances of success are 20 to 1,” Jeff said, obviously unsure about this.   

“Never,” Dustin dramatically declared, “tell me the odds. Give me the D20.”

Eddie’s shit eating grin was burned into Steve’s brain as his only desire was to beat him . As Dustin caught the die, the party gathered around for round two. They would only have two rolls. Dustin’s die practically soared through the air, rolling to a stop. Steve couldn’t see the number, but Eddie looked over it and quickly did the calculations before his grin grew wider and he made his signature, almost demonic face, yelling, “That’s a miss!”, his bushy hair bouncing as he laughed with malicious glee. 

Cries of “shit!” and groans rang out, contrasting deeply with Eddie’s laugh. Steve took a deep breath. It was time. The moment of truth. Everything was riding on him. Deaf to his teammates’ cries of “please!” and “come on!”, he cupped the die in his hands—sweaty from nerves—and shook, uttering a silent prayer as he let go, swinging the die into the air. It bounced on the table, once, twice, three times before rolling to a stop in front of Vecna’s throne. A perfect twenty. 

“Crit hit!” Steve yelled out, and everyone burst into cheers. 

That’s funny, he thought, I didn’t even know what that meant an hour ago.  

As everyone high fived, Eddie’s stupid grin turned softer and more genuinely happy. “That’s why we play,” he says, and Steve sees the fond gaze as he looks at the players. As Dustin, Mike, Gareth, and Jeff yell and shout “yes!”, Eddie bows overdramatically to Steve. It’s obviously a joke, and Steve can’t help but smile proudly. After all, he’s the reason they won. Maybe Eddie wasn’t such a bad guy after all.  

A few minutes later, the six of them burst out of the school’s doors, Mike and Dustin still on the high of winning, bounced off the walls, and Gareth and Jeff talked excitedly about the game. Only Eddie was quiet; he, like Steve, walked behind the others, watching their excitement. 

“Hey Eddie, man,” Steve said, cursing his mouth for ruining the moment. 

“Yeah?” 

“That was a fun game. I’m impressed.” 

“Well, well, well, looks like our king has been enlightened. Feel free to drop by whenever. We’re always low on people, and, though it pains me to admit it, Steve makes a valuable addition to the party,” Eddie says with an exaggerated eye roll. 

Objections to the nickname die on Steve’s tongue, as he’s more focused on the latter half of the statement. 

“You mean it?” 

“Yeah man, don’t sweat it. But be warned, it won’t be as easy next time,” he flashed Steve a shit-eating grin as he walked away, presumably toward his car. 

Steve groaned. That stupid grin again. But– “Wait, that was easy? ”