Chapter Text
The bustling noise of the busy city below brings a peaceful background hum to the room that's mellows out the atmosphere inside it. A man with choppily cut hair and a beanie hat sits in his bed with a messy notepad, surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper and big heavy textbooks.
Slapping his head and pulling down his beanie over his head, he flops back and tosses his assignment to the side. He contemplates grabbing his walkman and a joint, needing something to relax, but he ends up just laying there, almost like he's waiting for something.
The past two years have been pretty much like that for Jonathan Byers - just waiting for something else. He was waiting in Hawkins and now that he's back in Lenora, he's still waiting, but at least in Lenora he doesn't feel that odd gut-wrenching guilt everytime he woke up. The feeling would cement itself in his stomach and never let go, he knew if he stayed it would drag him down even further than he already was.
He hadn't even considered going back to Lenora, but as he saw Argyle leave after a few weeks staying with them (not before dubbing Hawkins weed the worst weed in the unknown and known universe), he just kept asking himself what he was staying for. There had to be a reason at some point because he couldn't even let himself think about moving away for college when they were all in Lenora, but he just couldn't justify staying. He thought of his Mom, happy with Hopper, and Nancy, happy to let Jonathan go. He might've stayed for El if she asked, but she didn't.
So, he came to Lenora. He found Argyle working in Surfer Boy Pizza's rival, a burger place, having been fired for the whole taking-a-company-van-over-state-lines whilst on the clock. It was only a matter of time they would fire him, in fairness to the management, even Jonathan found the insistence to put pineapple on everyone's pizza quite off-putting. He got a job working alongside Argyle, and stayed with Argyle and his parents until he could finish high school and go to college.
Every second of everyday for the last few months have just been non-stop work and effort to get him to be able to financially afford to stay in Lenora. He welcomed the busy hours with open arms if it meant, for a short while, it stopped the quiet. He couldn't let there be any quiet because in the times when he's not busy enough, his thoughts get to him.
The familiar feeling builds within himself until he's numb to anything. Sometimes, he doesn't know if he's experiencing real life anymore. It's like something is pulling on him to question everything, and sometimes he can't help but feel there is something deeply wrong.
He sighs aloud, as he pushes the palms of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to scrub away the feeling. He flexes his palms, and looks over the room. He is definitely in a crappy, cheap unofficial shared apartment and this is definitely real. He doesn't know if the truth is a relief.
Sometimes, he think he's being dramatic because, if he's really honest with himself, most of the time he's just relentlessly lonely. Argyle helps him out and he's a great friend but he doesn't understand all the shit that went down in Hawkins. He doesn't understand how someone could hate a place so badly because of all the bad that happened there but still miss it, still miss what the town represented. He misses being in a team. He misses something that he can't seem to imagine in his mind's eye, all visual representation faded in time, pushed away into particles that cease to exist. Maybe he just misses his family
Jonathan lays awake in his bed, his homework laying forgotten in the bed sheets around him. He thinks about his family, he begs to whoever will listen to let him get past the mental block he imposed on them to prevent himself from thinking about them all the time, but he can't. He just can't do it. The feeling takes a hold of him, making his body cold and numb, shivering when the dread runs through him. He wants to cry but he doesn't know why.
He turns over, letting the tears fall freely. If he misses his family so much, why did he leave? The question soothes himself to sleep, it brings comfort to know that he isn't losing his mind.
When he wakes in the morning, after dreams of a younger boy invade the images that dance away in his mind of previous memories, he embraces the boiling cold clarity of an early morning. He doesn't forget the boy's face as he continues on with his day. Haunted by the innocence in his face, it screamed so few words. What did I do to deserve this?
And he doesn't know the answer.