Chapter Text
Hawkins, August 1979
Jonathan watched as the door of Melvald’s opened, then closed after another customer left the small shop. He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, feeling a hole where the seam had come undone, but nothing else.
A painful reminder that there wasn’t any of the money left that he had earned mowing the lawn of the Blackburn family.
He bit his nails while he thought about what he needed from the store. A sketchbook, pencils, crayons? No, he should just get the essentials.
He took a deep breath. In and out, it should be easy, he’d be fast. The little bell at the door of Melvald’s rang as someone stepped out, that’s when Jonathan sneaked in. He made his way straight to the stationery section.
With wide eyes, he stepped in front of the shelf stacked with school supplies.
A quick look to the right, to the left, all clear. Standing on his toes, he grabbed the first pack of pencils he could easily reach, given his average height for an almost 12-year-old.
When he heard footsteps on his right-hand side, he twisted his head towards the source in panic. A woman came standing next to him, she eyed Jonathan for a second, then gave him a small smile before turning away from him.
He hid what was in his hands in the inside pocket of his jacket. As his confidence grew, the sketchbook was next, disappearing under his shirt.
Now he just had to leave.
He wasn’t running, but he moved toward the exit at an unnaturally fast pace while holding his arms close to his body to shield the items he had pocketed.
No one paid any attention to him. Good.
At the checkout, only a few people were waiting in line. He could sneak right past them without being noticed by the cashier, using his height to his advantage. No one would look twice at a child leaving the store alongside an adult who currently stood in front of the register.
Impatience overcame him. Let’s go now!
Staring straight ahead as he sneaked past the cash register, he tried to be as fast as possible without looking suspicious. He took a quick peek at the cashier.
Shit, that guy had definitely noticed him.
Jonathan sped up even more. He could make it, he was close, so close to the exit.
He was merely a few steps away when a hand abruptly halted him, gripping his shoulder. When he turned his head, Jonathan saw a beige shirt sporting a police badge.
He was staring at Jonathan, eyes narrowed.
A cop. He was absolutely screwed. He’s gonna get arrested, and his dad will have his sorry ass handed to him for being so stupid. And Will, Will-
“Give me the stuff. C’mon.”
The man’s voice was serious, allowing no room for disagreement. He was so much taller than Jonathan, too.
He froze, not being able to get a word out. He couldn’t even meet the eyes of the person in front of him.
Realizing that he had no choice but to comply, Jonathan slowly reached for the stolen goods and held them out in his trembling hands. The cop took them promptly, then spoke to the kid in a calm, temperate voice.
“Stay right here.”
Without another word, he left.
Jonathan stared at the floor, not moving an inch. He should flee, this was his chance to escape this awful predicament and get away unscathed. With empty hands, nevertheless, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the police, and even worse, his father’s wrath.
His eyes searched for the cop, locating him at the register paying for beer, cigarettes, plus…
Were those the items Jonathan had tried to steal just now?
Before Jonathan even started speculating about the cop’s reasoning to buy this stuff for himself rather than putting it back, the man in question already put his big hand on the boy’s small shoulder and pushed him gently but firmly outside.
Without speaking another word, the man led Jonathan to his car, which displayed the words Hawkins Police Department in big letters. In smaller letters, a word that made Jonathan shiver.
Chief. He was in deep shit.
Not only was he busted by a cop, but by the chief of police. He hadn’t even been aware that there was a new one. One that was far scarier than the old chief, who Jonathan guessed to be at least a hundred years old.
“Get in, I’m gonna drive you home,” the chief said.
Home? No, Jonathan couldn’t go home, he had to pick up Will at the Wheelers’ first.
“My…” he said.
He didn’t dare to speak any louder than a whisper. Meanwhile, he was searching for a good excuse in his head.
He looked at his watch. He had only a little time left before he had to go to get Will.
“My bike’s still here.”
“We can throw it in the back. Get in.”
Jonathan imagined criminals usually had to sit in the backseats, but apparently, the chief thought differently. Being next to him in the passenger seat wasn’t much better, though. Jonathan still felt like he was in trouble, rightfully so, because now he was in even closer proximity to the guy who had caught him.
And yet they were just driving without talking, after he reluctantly answered the chief’s question about where he lives. The silence was uncomfortable, but it gave Jonathan hope that he would be brought home without another word. Perhaps with a warning glance, not to try something like this again.
A deep voice shattered his wishful thinking. It did not sound friendly.
“Well, that was stupid.”
Jonathan didn’t dare to answer, fearing he would say the wrong thing. So he glanced at his shoes, spotted with dirt, one having a small hole at its front, while giving a slight nod.
He heard a sigh next to him and an impatient tapping of fingers on the wheel.
“What’s your name, kid?”
He sank further into the passenger seat, mumbling his name.
“Jonathan.”
“Jonathan. Last Name?”
He knew what was coming next. His family name had a reputation, thanks to his father. Lonnie wasn’t exactly a stranger to the police, but not in a good way, most definitely not. He heard his father ranting about cops all the time. Begrudgingly, he told the chief, finally making eye contact with the man.
“Byers.”
Jonathan watched the adult next to him for some sort of recognition. While the man’s face was unfriendly before, it changed to grim, almost angry, within seconds. Even though the chief was new, yes, he had definitely heard about Lonnie Byers.
The kid was prepared to get some nasty comments about his father and his affairs with the law, but surprisingly they never came.
When Jonathan realized that the man had no intention of continuing the conversation, he examined the new chief more closely.
Hopper, that’s what the name tag on his uniform said. He had a stern demeanor, a man you should not cross.
You could see that at first glance, but something was off.
Jonathan couldn’t explain what exactly made him think that, but he’d seen this kind of thing with Lonnie a thousand times. Dark circles around the eyes, the smell of alcohol, the blank stare — it was all painfully familiar to him, especially these days.
They shared the same facial expression right now, too. Anger, that’s the only feeling his father ever showed lately. He didn’t know if the chief’s anger was there before, or if Jonathan’s dumb plan to steal from Melvald’s was the cause.
The store where his mother worked, what was he thinking? If that ever got out, his mom would lose her job. And it will get out eventually for obvious reasons. He’s sitting in a police car right now, for God’s sake.
Not that this even mattered nowadays, she hadn’t been to work in weeks anyway.
The cop threw a quick glance at the kid, not quite meeting his eyes. Jonathan prepared himself to be lectured and screamed at. Was there much of a difference for people like the chief, like his father?
“So, while other kids steal cigarettes, booze, toys, or whatever…”
Jonathan turned his head to the man next to him in surprise. He expected loud or even aggressive shouting, but the other’s voice was cool and reserved.
“...you’re going for school supplies?”
The man sounded more amused than anything, although his facial features did not show any sign of it. He shifted slightly to watch the kid beside him.
“You don’t look like a nerd.”
What? What’s that supposed to mean? It’s true, Jonathan wasn’t a nerd, not really. He was just an outsider.
“Wasn’t for me.” He didn’t mean to sound offended. “My brother.”
Why he felt the need to explain himself, Jonathan didn’t know. It didn’t matter anyway, what he stole or the circumstances didn’t change the fact that he committed a crime, right? But he might still be honest, showing the chief that he could own up to his mistakes.
“He needs it for school.”
But that wasn’t the actual reason he stole.
“But also for drawing.”
While Jonathan had feared the chief’s demeanor earlier, he now eagerly expected his reaction.
“Don’t you have that stuff at home?” Hopper asked.
“We did, but Dad, he-” Jonathan paused.
No, he couldn’t tell. This was his family’s business, his father’s words. He wouldn’t snitch, especially to a cop; his dad wouldn’t like it.
“Not anymore, we don’t.”
He couldn’t look at the man any longer, so he turned to the window instead, relieved when he saw the familiar area near his home. The chief seemingly knew this as well and remained quiet for the rest of the ride.
Silence fell when the car stopped in front of the house. The chief hesitated, so Jonathan followed his lead and made no effort to get out of the car yet.
“Your dad, is he here?” the chief asked.
Jonathan shook his head, then watched as the man’s expression shifted. It seemed as if he were relieved. Jonathan felt the same way, still, this was odd.
Did he not want to speak with his father, informing him of what his son had done?
“Your brother? Your-”
“Nobody’s home,” Jonathan said quickly.
The man scratched his beard before he leaned forward to grab the hat sitting on the console.
“Alright, stay here.”
That’s what Jonathan did while he contemplated what was gonna happen next. Even though he was glad his dad wasn’t here, he couldn’t help but wonder if that meant he would be brought to the station. He looked out of the windscreen and spotted his bike next to the porch.
The chief must have put it there. The abrupt opening of the passenger door startled the kid.
“C’mon, get out.”
Jonathan followed the command and exited the car, taking a deep breath. Once he was out, Hopper shut the door and leaned his hand against it. Lowering his eyes, he gave the boy an intimidating stare.
“You won’t do that again, right?”
It didn’t sound like a question.
“Yes, sir.”
Jonathan nodded, and he meant it.
Never again would he try to do something so stupid. He had to find another way to make some money for his family. For Will and for Mom. It’s hard because he’s just 11, almost 12. If only he were a little older, he’d be able to get a proper job, something like washing dishes, maybe. But for now, he’s stuck mowing lawns and shit.
The cop observed him, probably checking if the kid was straight with him. Jonathan tried to embody that by raising his chin and meeting the man’s eyes.
“Alright.”
The chief sighed and just nodded his head toward the house. Jonathan understood and cautiously took a few steps forward. Upon hearing the roar of the engine, he turned around.
Jonathan didn’t move until the car was out of sight. Everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes left him stunned. The police chief caught him stealing, then let him off with a warning? No screaming either? He must’ve come across the chief on a good day.
Still shaken, Jonathan made his way to the house before he saw his bike leaning next to the porch. He gasped. This couldn’t be right. Resting on the saddle was the very sketchbook Jonathan had taken from Melvald’s, along with the pack of pencils.
Jonathan’s eyes began blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath.
Lonnie said boys shouldn’t cry. Get a grip, be a man. It’s stupid anyway, why should he cry over some nice gesture anyway? Because, for once in his life, some guy, practically a stranger, showed him kindness?
He wiped his face using his arm and grabbed the goods. Maybe he should hide it somewhere in his room, safe from his father’s eyes. When his dad wasn’t home, he could give it to Will for drawing.
No, it’s better not to even try to use this inside the house.
Even so, Jonathan went to his room to fetch his backpack. He put the pencils and the sketchbook inside with caution. When he checked his watch, Jonathan knew he should really get going.
With his bag packed, he stepped outside again.
Jonathan threw his bike on the asphalt before he ran to the door and rang the bell. He was supposed to pick up Will around two, now it was almost three.
“Jonathan!” the mother of Will’s best friend greeted him joyfully.
“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler. Sorry that I’m late.”
Mrs. Wheeler waved it off.
“Oh, I didn’t even notice. Come on in, the boys are in the basement.”
As he entered the house, a homely atmosphere immediately enveloped him. Were those cookies he smelled?
Jonathan couldn’t remember the last time his home smelled like this, rather than spilled beer and unfiltered cigarettes. He made his way downstairs, where he could already make out the excited kids’ voices.
Will’s voice reached his ears. “A shield?”
“Yes! My character has a mighty sword, but it needs a shield as well for protection! Someone needs to save you guys when Lucas does some dumb, reckless shit again.”
“Hey, no fair!”
The young boys were giggling.
“Okay, so if Mike’s character gets a sword and a shield, I want a bow …and a butterfly knife!”
“What? A butterfly knife doesn’t even conform to the world of Middle-earth, Lucas! Will, support me on this!”
Jonathan leaned on the railing, not ready to interrupt the ongoing conversation. He was glad that his little brother had such good friends.
Even though Jonathan enjoyed his solitude, there were moments when he wished he had that, too.
“So, Will, when you’re drawing my character, don’t forget that its weapon shines blue when orcs are nearby,” Mike said.
“And I’m an elf, so give me pointy ears, Will! And don’t screw up my handsome face.” their friend Lucas said.
“Man, I can’t wait to see it on paper. Your drawings are amazing, Will!” Mike called out with excitement.
Jonathan could confirm this without hesitation. While a lot of 8-year-olds are still sticking to stick figures, Will was already taking perspective and anatomy into account.
Will just shrugged, though.
“I don’t know, you guys, maybe we should let Nancy draw-”
“Nancy?! Why Nancy? My sister’s not better than you. She’s not even a member of our party!”
“Yeah, Will, you’re our friend, you do it! I’m sure it’s gonna turn out great, don’t worry.” Lucas added.
“I know, but…” His younger brother hesitated.
Jonathan could see the insecurity written all over Will’s face. He couldn’t stand seeing him like this.
“Hey, what’s going on here?”
“Jonathan!” It warmed his heart how excited Will was to see him.
“We’re creating characters living in Middle-earth based on us!”
“Yeah, we’re gonna have our own adventures just like Bilbo!” Mike said.
“We’re gonna fight orcs!” Lucas swung a broom around like a sword.
“Visit the Mines of Moria!” Mike shouted while hitting the table again and again.
“See dragons!” Will roared.
Their energy was something else, it made Jonathan laugh a little.
“I don’t understand half of what you guys are talking about.”
He sighed and waved Will to him.
“Anyway, Will and I have to get going.”
That set off a protest by the two remaining kids, yet Will went to his brother’s side without objection before saying goodbye to his friends.
“Sorry, guys. See you tomorrow, maybe?”
Once out the door, the two boys proceeded directly towards the bike lying in the driveway to the Wheelers’ garage. Jonathan picked it up, climbing onto the seat. Before Will could follow suit, Jonathan began to speak.
“Dad’s wrong, you know that, right?”
Will just shrugged, staring at the ground.
He had to say something to Will, had to reassure him it was okay for him to pursue his hobby, no matter what anyone said. Their father had no right to do what he did.
“Boys can like drawing, too, Will. Everyone has a different talent, something they are passionate about. It doesn’t have to be baseball. Hell, I don’t care about baseball either. Everyone has to find their own thing.”
He wasn’t good with words, but he hoped the message still reached his brother.
“What do you like, Jonathan?” Will asked.
That was a question he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t considered what he liked in a long time. And if he was being honest, Jonathan also avoided thinking about it, so he took the easy way out.
“I don’t really know.”
Will looked discontented about his answer, seeing through his empty words.
“Liar.”
“Am not!”
“Yeah, you are!”
“Nu-uh.”
Will gave his sibling a skeptical stare. Jonathan huffed, but Will didn’t give in.
“Fine,” Jonathan said. “Photography.”
He scratched his head while avoiding his little brother’s judging eyes and started rambling.
“It’s just that I’m not that good at it. You draw every day and work so hard on getting better. Meanwhile, I can’t- I don’t-”
“Did you have fun?” his brother interrupted him.
Jonathan nodded.
“Well, what did you like about it?” Will asked.
“I guess… I liked capturing the world around me. Nature, but also people. And what they feel. I wasn’t great at it, though. It never came out how I wanted it to be.” Jonathan answered truthfully.
He wasn’t anywhere near as skilled as Will. He wasn’t sure that his brother was paying attention, but Jonathan continued anyway.
“You know the photo of Mom and you in front of the Christmas tree? The one that’s hanging in the kitchen? I made that. It’s a little blurry, I think I was too shaky while holding the camera. Mom said she loved it, though, of course.”
Jonathan chuckled, but Will didn’t react, he seemed to be deep in thought. Just as the older boy wanted to complain about the younger one’s lack of attentiveness, Will grinned at him with newfound enlightenment in his eyes.
“You should take some photos of me and you for Mom! I bet she’d love to have some in her room,” he said.
“That’s a great idea.” This enthusiasm made Jonathan smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “But we don’t have a camera.”
Unfortunately, their camera back then broke down some time ago. A new camera wasn’t an option, not for them right now at least.
“Then we should save some money to buy one!”
At this rate, it would take years, yet he chose not to discourage his brother.
Maybe when he was older, when he was earning more money than the few quarters he was getting now by lawn mowing and snow shoveling.
“Yeah, let’s start saving.”
Pleased with the conclusion, Will sat down behind Jonathan, placing his hands on his shoulders.
“We’re gonna visit mom now?” he asked.
Jonathan nodded, then he kicked his feet off the ground, and the bike’s wheels began turning.