Chapter Text
A sickening feeling of bile rose to Jim’s throat, all too familiar with… it. The feeling of loss, grief, being ripped apart by the seams.
His daughter, his Jane. The sweet girl who wanted nothing more than to be normal. His light in the darkness that had been his life before.
She had been extinguished.
He thought he had been stuck in an awful nightmare when Mike had pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, meeting his eyes after they had first seen each other again.
The kid was positively pale, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears, though the angry red tint around his eyes suggested there had been many tears cried already. He could barely stand, and so he didn’t. Hopper reached forward, catching him as he stumbled, his knees too weak to help it. Jim helped Mike to the floor, alarmed and holding on to him, urging Mike to speak up and tell him what was wrong.
A fast-paced stream of thoughts echoed through his head as Mike cried on him, entire body shaking. Had he been infected with something from the Upside Down? Why weren’t the kids helping him?
The door to the house opened silently, Will with his arm hauled over Jonathan’s shoulder. They were both silent, red eyed and the stench of vomit was hard to miss. Joyce rushed forward to her boys, taking Will from Jonathan as he latched on to her and cried.
Jim looked from the Byers, to Mike and back to the house. It was still and motionless inside, but he could hear some faint crying.
Mike tried to steady his breathing, failing miserably as he hiccuped his way through breaths, burying his head in to Jim’s shoulder.
“E-El,” he whimpered, and it clicked. It didn’t feel like a click though. More like a snap of a cruel whip, and suddenly it felt as if he was going to puke himself.
That had been hours, days, weeks ago, hell, how the fuck was Hopper meant to know? It went by in a painful blur of drinking what was left on his liquor shelf, crying and smashing empty bottles on the floor. He had punched the walls, screaming in rage for what seemed like hours, to only slump on to the floor in a drunken spur and cry himself to sleep in his old cabin’s kitchen.
He’d dream of the old days, when his only problems were holding El and Mike at a Hopper-sized distance from one another, before waking and feeling okay for a second, before the harsh reality pushed him back towards the alcohol he hadn’t finished the night before.
A vicious cycle of pain that he doubted he would ever escape after his sun was ripped so carelessly from him and her family.
Joyce had been a lifeline, and no matter how many times he yelled at her to leave him alone, she was always there to take the bottles away, to hold him as they cried together, to help him through the nights he just couldn’t accept that she was gone, including the nights he wished to join her.
Thinking back on it, he didn’t know how she managed to keep him in the right mind as well as caring for her boys. It felt almost inconsiderate to ask now. Not at his daughters funeral.
There were familiar faces, unfamiliar faces and faces he never thought he’d see at her wake, all of them grim and grieving. Every time he recognised as one of El’s friends, he felt a stab at the bottom of his heart, the fire-like pain crawling up his back and a voice in the back of his head whispering about how bad of a father he must be to let two of his daughters die.
Never in his life did Jim think he’d have to do this again. Stand over where his daughter would be laid to rest and say goodbye again. He’d never gotten to have her back, tell her he loved her one last time, given her a hug.
He couldn’t embarrass her with stupid dad jokes at parties or in front of her friends, he couldn’t hold her when she cried over dumb boys and help her fumble her way through life a little better than he did. Jim didn’t get to do all that, and it would forever be his biggest regret.
No one expected him to give a speech, one look at the police chief would've been enough to tell that he would collapse at any given moment.
He turned his head to look at the Byers, who were standing beside him as she was.. lowered.
Joyce had her lip tucked between her teeth, fighting back the tears. She had always been so strong for her family, and Jim felt with certainty that El was now her daughter too.
Jonathan was looking down, his face pale and unknowing, he was deadly still but looked ready to turn his head at any moment, praying to see Jane burst through the door at any moment.
Then Will. Will, who had been through hell and back and still put everything back on the line to help El. To help his sister. His face was pale, all but his eyes, which were red and puffy from crying. His chest heaved every now and again, trying to collect himself.
Joyce had one hand in Hoppers, one around her boys as they watched one of their own be buried. Hopper squeezed her hand, nodding.
‘Its okay to cry’ he said with his eyes. So she did. She sobbed for the daughter she had only for a short time, but what could’ve been so much longer.
Jim turned his head back to his daughter, his baby. The little rascal that had held his heart in her soft hands. He thought that when Sarah died, he couldn’t have compared the pain to anything.
But with Jane? With Jane it was too damn close. Way too close to deem separate.
Once the tears flowed they couldn’t stop, and when the burial was over, he couldn’t bring himself to see everyone’s pitying faces. So he walked in to the church, silently closing the door behind him.
Joyce couldn’t follow, she just couldn’t. Her grief kept her in place, this time mourning for who she knew wasn’t coming back.
When Will was being buried, she knew it wasn’t him. It still felt like the universe was tearing her into shreds, but this? This she couldn’t deny with any amount of government scheming.
This girl, this child, had given her life to save others from her own fate. She had killed 001, as well as letting herself fall, the worst part being that El had probably known no one was there to catch her this time. Now there was no weaponry on either side, only a melancholic rush of depression holding Joyce up by the throat.
So no, she didn’t follow Jim. But someone else did.
They found him in a church pew, head in his hands.
When Hop had felt a hand on his back, he was sure it had been Joyce, and for a split second hoping it was Jane. He was met with his own surprise when he looked up.
Will’s wet eyes met his and for a moment there was quiet. Jim shifted over, welcoming him. He knew all Will had done for his girl, especially when he heard about the skating rink incident and the bullying El had been subjected to.
Jim had tried to find the words before, but every time he opened his mouth, he couldn’t think of anything. This time, however, Will beat him to it.
“She did her project on you,” it was barely above a whisper, Will’s scratchy throat causing his voice to crack in a few places.
Hopper looked at him with confused, almost scared, eyes.
“What?” He murmured, turning to him completely.
The kid swallowed, wiping his eyes and sniffing.
“We had a project to do, about famous people who inspire us. She picked you, said that her dad was her hero for saving thousands of lives,”
That god awful lump rose to Jim’s throat again as tears welled up. Will looked him square in the eyes and broke down.
“You are her hero, a-and she was so, so proud of you-..!” He cried, letting Hopper hold him in a tight hug. Will wrapped his arms around his torso, head buried in his shoulder. His sobbing and hiccuping ceased after 10 minutes or so, his eyes and throat sore.
Jim gently put some distance between them, still holding on to his arms.
“You were - and still are - her brother. She loved you like a sister would, and you made her life better and you made her proud too. Don’t think any different for—,” his breath hitched “ — for a second, okay?”
Will nodded, still crying. They hugged again, Jim holding on tight. He’d be damned if he let down another one of his kids.
“I miss her so much..” Will mumbled, wiping his eyes, like that would stop the tears.
“Me too, kid. Me too,” they separated for a final time, Jim squeezing his shoulder.
“Let’s go find your mother. She needs us as much as we need her right now,”
Will nodded, and Hopper silently willed himself to stay composed. He needed to be strong, reliable, and there for his family right now.. even if it did feel like a stab to the chest every time he took a breath.
They went back outside, Hopper’s arm around Will guiding him gently to the arms of his mother. Jonathan wasn’t in sight, which wasn’t a shock considering he looked like he was about to burst earlier. He held on to them both, clutching whatever family he had left right to his chest.
Mike watched, grief swelling larger in his chest as he mother held on to his shoulders, whispering comforts to him. They helped very little, but still helped. That was until, he saw them.
A few kids he recognised from Rink-O-Mania..
He felt himself shake harder, anger blooming and running from his heart through this veins up into his brain. Before he could comprehend it, he was marching towards them.
As he got closer, he recognised the scar and the blonde hair. That Angela bitch and her motley crew had decided to show up and play the grieving friends.
They all looked pretty fucking stupid in Mike’s eyes, but they were currently talking to Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley, who didn’t look to convinced themselves.
He marched over, eyes burning. He saw the flash of shock in one of their eyes as he approached, Steve turning and realising a little too late.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Mike hissed, tone unforgiving and harsh. His eyes were red with tears and teeth grinding together like cogs.
“You really think you can invite yourselves here and play victim?”
Robin’s eyes widened, looking between them. Eddie was still in shock after hearing Mike’s tone. He had never known the kid to be so cruel. He said nothing though, assuming his position on the kid’s left.
Angela stumbled across her words.
“We were invited..- I-,”
“Invited?” Mike scoffed, the single word tasting bitter on his tongue. Steve stepped between them, giving the Lenora students a glare.
“I think you should leave, you’ve already done what you came to do,”
“No, no, let’s hear why they think they’re entitled to stay anyway-,” his voice wasn’t raised, however it seemed to attract some attention from the people next to them, all of which were close with El.
“Mike,” Steve said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Mike glared you at him before swatting it off, tears burning and sliding down his cheeks.
“No, they can’t just show up like this..! They don’t have a right, Steve, they d-don’t-,” his bubbling anger came to a simmer as Eddie took him into his arms, holding him gently as Steve whispered to him.
Robin cornered the Lenora kids, her stern glare and a few words seemingly enough to scare them off. The attention of the funeral party had not shifted completely to them, but it had caught Will’s attention.
Turns out, Mike wasn’t the only one angry.
He weaved his way through the crowd, tongue heavy with insults to throw at his former classmates when he saw his best friend had already beaten him to it.
He watched as they left, leaving Mike in a blubbering mess. His anger had yet to dissipate though.
How dare they impose on his sister’s funeral, how fucking dare they make her life a living hell for a year before trying to pull that ‘I never meant it’ bullshit. It was disgusting, it was sickening, it’s was beyond-
“Will,” a voice broke him out of his trance. He found himself still staring at where the Lenora pupils once stood. He tore his eyes away to look at Mike, who had spoke to him in a shaky voice. He had moved away from Eddie, now in front of him, but he had yet to stop crying. Who could blame him.
Will took a breath, then another, before moving in and trapping him in a hug. It didn’t take more than a second for Mike to reciprocate, holding him like he was the last shred of El he had left. It was a bitter, loving feeling that blossomed in his chest, he both hated and loved it.
The two lingered in the hug before breaking apart, glaring at where the Lenora pricks were quickly walking down the street.
“The fucking nerve,” Steve whispered under his breath. Eddie sneered humourlessly, his face twisting in disgust.
“Some people have no respect, whatso-fucking-ever. They think they’re the shit until someone puts them in their place. This kid deserves better than that,” Robin nodded, a solemn look on her face. She hadn’t know El all too well, but she seemed a sweet kid that didn’t deserve any of the shit anyone put her through.
They had all seen shit together that no one else has truly experienced. To see one of their own not only.. leave, because of something as terrifying as the upside down, and then be openly disrespected at her own rest was like an open wound doused in salt.
Mike was quickly pulled away with Will to go back to Joyce and Jim, who Karen had started to talk to, leaving the three of them at the entrance to the churchyard.
It was a grim silence before Eddie spoke up.
“I know I never properly got to know Eleven-..Jane.. but she saved me all the same, and I’d love to hear some more?”
He asked, directed at Steve with a soft, nearly cracking voice. Robin nodded.
“I didn’t know her that well either but she’s saved my life twice now,” her voice was wet, but she pushed through it. “I’d love to know her.. even if it’s not first hand..”
Steve looked at them, blinking for a second before a soft smile broke out on his features. His red eyes closed, a shaky sigh leaving him.
“Well, the first time I met her she saved me too. There’s so much to say about her, she was such a good kid..”
Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist for comfort, moving his hand up to his shoulder when he saw Mr Wheeler’s face from the corner of his eye.
“We’ve got the time now, she deserves someone to pass on his amazing she was. It won’t bring her back, no matter how much we want it to.. but it’ll make sure she gets her story told right,”
Jonathan listened, not too far away. He had taken a seat on the floor not too far outside the church, just below the cobblestone wall.
He was crouched there, cigarette in one hand, his other pre occupied with gripping his dress shirt like a lifeline. He knew that if he didn’t keep his composure he would’ve said something to those brats from Lenora.
He took another long drag, letting the smoke drift from his lungs before he was stopped. Argyle had seemingly followed him from the service, gripping his wrist, staring at him for a second before pinching the cigarette between his fingers and stomping it out.
“You used to hate that shit, man,” he said quietly, sitting down next to him. Jonathan wanted to snap, yell at him, tell him it wasn’t his fucking business. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him that. He didn’t have the strength left.
They remained in silence for a few moments before another person joined them. Nancy silently sat the other side of Jonathan, intertwining their fingers.
“.. the fuck am I doing?” Jonathan whispered to no one in particular, staring down at the cigarette. Not even a month ago he was repulsed by the smell of cigarette smoke, it reminded him too much of his dad. And now look at him.. sitting outside a church full of mourners he couldn’t face without cracking, sacrificing his lungs for a few seconds of peace.
Nancy stayed quiet, squeezing his hand for a second before kissing his knuckle.
“Coping.. you’re coping the best you can,”
Argyle nodded along, toying with a strand of his hair.
“It’s what your brain is telling you to do, man,”
Jonathan laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair, curling in on himself.
“My brain, huh? Yeah. What fucking use is that?”
Nancy frowned. “Jonathan..-,”
“Don’t.. Nance, just please don’t..” he couldn’t face that music right now. The memories of their last moments together were still flicking through his head, the way El had smiled when she had seen them come to get her, the way even when she was scared, she’d still kick ass and do whatever it took. Much more than Jonathan could ever say for himself.
“You know, when Will was much littler, I always used to say we were lucky, because that’s what I thought. Great, right? No sisters, it seemed so much better to just have my little brother,”
His eyelashes felt heavy with tears as he wiped his eyes hastily, feeling both pairs of eyes on him.
“But then, we had El.. I never thought I’d want a sister, but there I was-!” He smiled sadly, head tipping back against the wall. “I’d do fucking anything for that kid. I used to braid her hair for you, you know? That’s why I tried growing mine out, cause she wanted to learn how to do it herself. She was so happy..”
He sniffed, forgetting about wiping the tears away as they dropped down his face.
“What kind of shit brother am I?” Jonathan choked out, closing his eyes. Both Argyle and Nancy were quick to surround him, holding him close as he let himself break.
“You are not a shit brother, Jonathan Byers,” Nancy whispered, her voice cracking a little.
“You did everything you could for Will and El over these past years, you tried so hard to protect them,”
Nancy thought back to Mike, swallowing the lump in her throat. She hadn’t been there when he needed her, but Jonathan had been for Will.
“You were good to her,” Argyle said, rubbing circles into his shoulder blade.
“And I’m sorry we couldn’t do more,”
Jonathan had given up on trying to talk at that point, his shaking shoulders enough to prove he was a mess. He would’ve been hysterical if not for Nancy and Argyle, so he kept them close. It was all he could do to stop the numbness.
Back in the churchyard, Max had hidden herself around the corner. She couldn’t face it, not now. She wasn’t alone, however.
She currently had her face buried in Steve’s shoulder, the young man praying that he didn’t start crying either.
Max hadn’t said a word to anyone the entire service, as soon as El had been lowered into her grave she had ducked around the corner. That voice didn’t leave her as she tucked herself into a corner behind the church. She curled into a ball, head in her knees.
‘You did this. If she didn’t save you, she’d probably still be here. It’s your fault’
Max couldn’t have said who’s voice it belonged to. Sometimes it was herself, sometimes El, other times it was Billy. It even switched between Will, Mike, Lucas and rest of their friends.
That when Steve had found her, spotting a fleck of her red hair and walking silently over, kneeling in front of her. Max had managed to look up, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before her bottom lip wobbled, a weak sob escaping her before she threw herself into Steve’s arms.
She just wanted to be held, to feel like she wasn’t so terribly alone. Her best friend had died because of her, so had her brother. How many more people would be taken from her?
“I’ve got you, you aren’t alone,” Steve’s whispers felt like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to her sanity right now.
“This isn’t on you,”
“It-it is! She saved me, Steve, an-and now she’s gone-!” She wailed in to his blazer jacket, trying desperately to keep her voice down.
“It’s my fault..”
“It’s not,” that wasn’t Steve. Her eyes chanced a look away from Steve, Lucas, Erica and Dustin standing off to the side.
Dustin sat down next to them, Lucas following example quickly. They both looked as if they had gone through the five stages of grief, completing all but the last one. Acceptance wouldn’t have come so easy.
“It’s not your fault,” Dustin stated quietly, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. Steve nodded, the four of them sitting in a little box shape, facing each other.
“It was never anyone but Vecna’s fault,”
The name felt like someone was ripping her skin off now.
Erica couldn’t say a word, it may have been out of character for her, but she couldn’t force any words out. She had been speechless and silent since they had arrived at the funeral.
“We all blame ourselves,” Lucas whispered, picking at his hands, every now and again wiping his eyes.
“But we can’t keep doing it. It’ll kill us,”
Steve scrunched his eyes close at Lucas’s choice in words, but he wasn’t wrong. He’d seen it in stories across the country, when someone loses someone they love and the blame becomes unbearable to live with, it resorts to losing themselves and then.. then death, in the worst cases.
Blame kills, even if it’s only one person blaming themselves.
“Why?” Max’s voice was small, broken and scratchy, but it caught the group’s attention.
“.. what?” Dustin murmured, eyebrows furrowing. He had never bothered to wipe the tears away.
“Why do you blame yourselves? She couldn’t look them in the eye. “She loved you guys like family, and all you’ve ever done is try to protect her,”
Lucas looked down, sniffing out a humourless laugh.
“When we first met El.. I was a dick. The entire time,” the laughs in his voice sounded felt like geodes, ready to break and poor out the emotion inside them.
“I was scared for Will.. and of her. But now..”
Lucas buried his face in his hands.
“God, I do anything to get her back,”
Max pulled him close, crying with him.
Erica silently leaned on Dustin, burying her head in his shoulder. She didn’t want them to see her cry, not at all. They had become close, like best friends, since all this started and she knew her brother needed Max right now.
Steve watched the kids mourn, almost jumping when a hand was laid on his shoulder. He looked up, catching Eddie’s eye. They were still red, but then again whose weren’t.
He sat slightly behind Steve, who shifted so they were at a more equal ground. They needn’t exchange any words before Steve’s head was resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Robin had sat on his other side, clasping their hands together.
The Monstrous world of the Upside Down had brought them all together, yes, but so had El. And they all preferred to think that she had made their family possible.
Here they were, incomplete, still standing, but incomplete. Like a bunch of unruly, broken soldiers.
Will watched them from his mothers side silently, keeping close. He felt as if he would fall over if he didn’t. His eyes drifted around the group around him, watching Mrs Wheeler pull Nancy and Mike in closer.
She, alongside Argyle and Jonathan had come back after a while, their sad eyes and patchy breath speaking volumes.
Nancy had her hand in Mike’s as he silently lay his head on her shoulder, facing away from everyone else. He had his sister.
Will almost felt bitter, angry. Everyone else had their sister, why couldn’t he have his? It burnt at the back of his throat, angry tears seeping through. He shook, grabbing hold of Joyce as she comforted him gently with her sore throat and mourning words.
He knew others had lost people. Chrissy Cunningham had little sisters, they’d lost a sister too. But it still felt unfair, like the world had ripped El from him. He felt so desperate to run, find her in some stranger, maybe a memory or a place.
He couldn’t move though, glued to the ground. He had tuned everyone out, hearing Murray distantly comfort a broken Hopper. It all felt like a fever dream.
Will scrunched his eyes closed, trying to stop the tears. Jane would never have wanted him to cry, she said that over and over whenever she found him upset. Oh god, she was far too selfless.
He held it against her to some extent, he couldn’t help it.
Sweet, selfless Eleven. Jane. Whoever she was. He found himself having a heartache at that. She still had to decide her destiny, who she was, and she was never given the chance.
He took a breath, opening his eyes hesitantly. Wishing that maybe, just maybe, she’d be there.
But of course, wishful thinking was just a disease that plagued the unfortunate. He supposed he’d had to live forever looking for stray glimpses of her in everyday life, in the eyes of his friends and family, hell, even in strangers. Whatever it took.
Mike was finally looking at him again, his shallow and hesitant breathing showing he still had many tears to cry.
Will silently let go of Joyce and tugged on Jonathan, instead taking Mike’s hand and leading him to the group of their friends around the corner. He made no attempt to disagree, silently going with him.
Nancy and Argyle followed, not even needing to talk about it. It was a telepathic connection formed of blood, tears and mourning.
They sat in the comfort of their found family, wishing that they could go back. Fix mistakes, tell Jane things they never got the chance to mention.
Tell El they loved her a little sooner, and little more often. That they wouldn’t forget her. That they were thankful, that they were sorry. A lot of unspoken truths that they’d never voice.
Grief was the greatest weapon, they found that day. And they made the silent pact that the Upside Down would never use it against them again.