Chapter Text
A sigh escaped from Daisy’s mouth,
“I see my campaign isn’t good enough for Soldier Sour”, Eddie huffed out to the rest of the party.
Daisy would never admit it, but his campaign did sound a little cool.
“I have to go”, she pointed to her scuffed-up golden watch, “curfew.”
“Aw, Hunter still has a bedtime,” the room breaks out in cooing sounds. How humiliating it is to value her sleep.
Only Gareth calls her Hunter.
“You’re playing as a Rogue! You should go by your middle name.”
Even though Daisy hasn’t played DnD since she was 13 years old, Gareth still calls her Hunter, and by extension, so does the rest of the Hellfire party.
“Very funny, and yes, on a school night, I do.”
Daisy waves goodbye to the Hellfire boys and makes her way out of Jeff's garage.
Her, Gareth, and Jeff were in the middle of practising for their music showcase when Eddie showed up, excited to show the guys the party's new adventure as DM.
Slipping out of the gate, she heads over to her 1970s red Beetle, Dorothy, affectionately known as Dottie.
Her keys should be at the bottom of this never-ending bag, at least she hopes.
Her hands shuffle through old school newspapers and unopened granola bars, god, she really needs to empty her bag once in a while, and… got them!
Before she can retreat into the safety of her car and leave behind the November breeze, the street goes dark.
Each streetlight is no longer alight, only for a moment, but a moment long enough for it to send a quiet shiver down Daisy’s spine.
The drive home didn’t take too long, meaning she’s home in time to ask Dustin about his night before he locks himself in his room.
Daisy’s little brother takes his beauty sleep very seriously.
“Daisy, my sweet girl, is home!” Her mother does this every time, makes the biggest deal when her baby birds return to the nest. As annoying as it is, Daisy doesn’t take it for granted. It’s nice to be wanted, and she knows some of her friends back at the Hellfire club don’t have that.
What a privilege it is to be loved, she has to remind herself.
“Hey, Mom, you’re squashing me!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie, I’ve just been in this house alone all day!” She makes her way back over to the couch.
“That’s not fair, Mom, you’ve got Mews” Daisy pats the orange cat as it returns to safety in her mother’s lap.
Her mother laughs, “I guess you’re right, it’s unfair to leave Mr Mews out, isn’t it?” she coos at the cat.
Daisy can’t help but feel a little like Mews, loved by those around her, but can never be fully understood by them.
She hangs up her corduroy coat and slips off her shoes before heading into her room, where Dustin is sitting, waiting for her
“I told you not to eat nougat on my bed, Dusty”, she says as she takes a bite from it.
“Hey! That’s mine,” he swats her away.
“How was Mike's campaign?” she folds her legs and sits on her bed, across from her brother,
“Did you ask Gareth about the Hellfire Campaign?”
For the next two hours, they found themselves debriefing the adventures of little Mike Wheelers DnD campaign, that was until Dustin fell asleep and Daisy had to carry him back to his room.
“Good night, Dusty”, she places him carefully into his bed and tucks him in tightly.
There is no one in this world that she loves more than her little brother; she would quite literally do anything for him.
Their Dad passed away when Daisy was 10, very unexpectedly.
With their dad out of the picture, Daisy knows that it’s hard to tell their mom secrets. She always makes everything a big deal, a family event.
So, Daisy tries as hard as she can to be that person for Dustin, someone he can trust with his secrets.
She knows what it’s like to keep secrets all bottled up, and how exhausting it can be trying to stop those bottles from overflowing.
Upon re-entering her bedroom, the lights begin to flicker. Daisy is so sick of this town and its shitty electricity. She walks over to her dresser and finds the softest pyjamas she can find, ignoring the ongoing flicker of her lamp.
Whilst staring at herself in her bathroom mirror, she notices something in the reflection.
She quickly whips her head around, but nothing is there, even though in her reflection, she can see a shadow looming over her.
Whatever, she’s sleep-deprived.
…
The next morning came too quickly, Daisy clicks her alarm off and makes her way to the shower.
Every day is the same in Hawkins, which to some can be boring, but Daisy loves a good schedule.
“Good morning, sweetie.” Her mother stood by the stove, flipping two pancakes onto a plate.
“Morning”, she said with a sideways smile.
“I smell pancakes!” Well, Dustin is awake.
After eating one too many pancakes, Daisy asks one more time before leaving, “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to school?”
Dustin, still stuffing his face, responded, “I do not want to be there this early, I’ll just take my bike.”
…
Hawkins High is your typical small-town American High School, each person separated by whatever ‘clique’ they’re in.
Even though Daisy is not actually in band, her closest friends are.
Vickie Dunne is her best friend; they’ve been best friends since before they could talk. Their parents went to college together.
When they first started High School, they made a pact to do everything together and never, no matter what, leave each other behind.
They even have matching cars, except Vickie’s is yellow.
Daisy hears a car honk as she steps out of her car,
“looking exceptionally cute today, Daisy!” Vickie pulls up beside her.
“You’re making me blush!” Daisy dramatically hides behind her hands, “You’re cuter!”
Even though Daisy feels misunderstood by many, Vickie isn’t one of them.
They have morning practice for their music showcase on Thursday, which is why they’re an hour and a half early to school. Vickie plays the clarinet, and Daisy plays piano.
On Friday, they also have a basketball match, Vickie is in the marching band, and Daisy is in charge of taking pictures for the school newspaper.
“How was your weekend?” Vickie loops her arm between Daisy’s,
“I spent it mostly hanging out with my brother, and practising at Jeff's.’
Vickie stops walking, “I'm so sorry I couldn’t make it to Jeff’s last night!”
Before she can start rambling on about her mother being super dramatic when it comes to hanging out with those ‘freaks’, Daisy loops their arms back together.
“It’s okay, Vick. I know you would have come if your mom didn’t think Hellfire was a cult.” The two girls laugh as they enter the building.
Vickie rolls her eyes, “Well, my weekend was spent on watching movies whilst doing chemistry homework.”
“Sounds quite the event”, Daisy jokes,
“Tell me about it.”
…
Vickie left as soon as the bell rang; she hates being late.
Daisy, on the other hand, likes to take her time when getting to class, especially when it's AP calculus.
A familiar face brushes past her, “Sorry!” Nancy Wheeler shouts.
Nancy was one of Daisy’s first friends when she moved to Hawkins; that’s actually how Dustin became friends with Nancy’s little brother, Mike.
They’re not as close as they were in middle school, but they still hang out occasionally, sometimes with Vickie and Barbara, Nancy’s best friend.
Just as Daisy is about to keep walking to class, Steve Harrington fumbles out of the girls' bathroom. He walks straight into her.
“I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
She picks up her bag, “ I really hope you were in there with Nance and not just hiding out in the girls' restroom.”
Steve starts to sweat, “Oh- I was in there with Nancy, I swear.”
“Relax, Harrington,” she shoves her bag back over her shoulder, “I’m messing with you.”
Relief washes over him as Daisy continues her walk to class.
‘King’ Steve is what they call him, star of the basketball team and the guy every girl in school dreamed of being with. Daisy would be lying if she said he wasn’t pretty to look at, but his appearance doesn’t change the fact that he’s kind of an asshole.
He can be nice when he’s alone, but around his friends…god, Daisy doesn’t know how Nancy deals with it.
Other than that, Daisy doesn’t have much of an opinion on Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. They’ve been lab partners for the past few semesters because they didn’t know anyone else in the class.
Daisy would almost consider them friends if it weren’t for the fact that Steve tends to ignore her when he’s around Tommy H and Carol P, not that she would ever want to hang out with him more than she has to.
In short, they’re friendly.
“Where are you heading to?” Steve asks as he hands Daisy the music sheet that fell out of her bag.
“AP Calc!” she says enthusiastically.
Steve turns confused, “Why are you so excited for calculus?”
Daisy huffs out a laugh “I was being sarcastic, Steve.”
They continue their small talk as they walk towards Daisy's classroom,
“I’ll see you in biology!” Steve clumsily scurries away to the class next door.
Daisy will never understand how someone so accident-prone is the star of the basketball team.
The first time they ever spoke outside of biology class was after a game.
It was nearly a year ago, around 40 minutes after the game ended.
Vickie and Daisy had been outside talking with the rest of the marching band about Tommy H being the worst basketball player they’d ever seen, when Vickie realised she had left her scarf in the gym.
They stumbled into the gym, laughing about something Robin Buckley, a girl in the marching band, had said about Tommy. It made them laugh so much that they almost fell down the bleachers.
Just as they were about to leave, Daisy noticed Steve Harrington sitting alone by the top of the bleachers, and underneath him was her camera bag.
She made her way back up the bleachers as she waved goodbye to Vickie.
Steve looked up at her.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt your post-game sulking, but I left my camera bag under where you're sitting,” she offered him a remorseful smile.
They’d lost the game.
Steve mumbled something before leaning over and grabbing the bag.
“Cute”, he said as he passed it to her.
What did he mean by “cute”?
“Sorry?” she said, trying to withhold her eyeroll.
“The vines.”
One night, when she and Dustin stayed up way later than they should have to watch Star Wars, Daisy had decided to make her brown polaroid bag just a little more interesting with some green vines and yellow flowers up the side of it.
This was the first time someone had noticed it.
“Oh, thanks.” She couldn’t help but smile.
She wanted to leave so badly, but Steve was clearly disappointed in the result of the game.
She took a seat next to him, almost a little too closely.
“It was a good game, Steve, don’t beat yourself up about it.”
She placed her camera back into the bag and plucked out a Polaroid she took at the game.
A picture of Steve and his dad.
“Here.”
He looked down, and she could see the emotion rush into his eyes.
“I saw you talking to him before the game,” she questions if she should go on, “he looks quite intense.”
He began to turn away, cower behind his hands.
With the swiftest movement, before she could even realise what she was doing, she took his hand.
She was about to pull away, realising what a stupid idea it was, when he held her hand back.
Lightly, but it felt like he was telling her it was okay to stay.
…
Calculus was over, and she could finally head to a class she enjoyed, photography.
Normally, Jonathan Byers sat with her, but he hadn’t shown up.
“Can I be excused, please?” She said to Mr Matthews.
“Be quick.”
“Johnathan, where are you?” she questions down the school phone, “I don’t think you’ve ever missed one of Mathew’s classes, especially when our group project is due today!”
“I’m sorry, Daisy, but…” There’s hesitation. More than Jonathan Byers' usual, awkward teenage boy, hesitation.
“Something's wrong.” She can feel that thing again, that thing from in her bathroom.
It's looming over her, a shiver running from the top of her spine, all the way to the bottom.
“Will, he’s missing. He didn’t come home last night.”
It’s almost as if she knew, as if she could hear the words in her mind before Johnathan said them.
...
Daisy Henderson had always been this mysterious presence in Steve Harrington's life. They're friends, at least Steve would class her as a friend since they spend every biology lesson together, but she’s kind of hard to read.
He can’t tell if she’s just always around or if Steve is always seeking her out.
Especially since that night.
It was nearly a year ago,
He was sitting alone on the bleachers just after they’d lost a game, a game his dad actually decided to attend, and typical Steve, he bombed it.
As he was feeling sorry for himself, he saw Daisy Henderson with a camera around her neck, lightly running up the bleacher steps.
She was with some other girl, who must be her friend Vickie from band, and whatever they were talking about made their heads fall back with laughter.
For a moment, it made him feel a little less alone, until he realised he didn’t have any friends who made him laugh so much that they almost fell down the bleachers.
The two girls hold on to one another for stability as they run down the steps. Just as they’re about to leave, Daisy turns back around as the other girl heads out of the gym.
She runs up the bleachers once again, but this time towards Steve,
“Hey, sorry to interrupt your post-game sulking, but I left my camera bag under where you’re sitting.” She gave him a sideways smile.
Steve quietly huffed out, “Harsh.”
A brown Polaroid bag with hand-sewn vines up the side of it sat beneath him,
“Cute”, he said, passing it back to her
“Sorry?” She looked confused and almost offended,
“The vines,” he said.
“Oh, thanks”, she said with a complete smile.
And again, just as she was about to turn away, she instead sat down next to him. The warmth of her body sent an almost electric feeling down Steve's spine. He wished she sat closer to him, so he could feel warmth from someone, anyone.
“It was a good game, Steve, don’t beat yourself up about it.” She took the camera from her neck and placed it gently into the bag.
“Here,” she handed him a Polaroid,
A blurry picture of him from tonight’s game.
What isn’t blurry is the crowd, specifically a man dressed way too formally for a high school basketball match, his dad.
“I saw you, talking to him before the game,” she hesitates, “he looks quite intense.”
He holds the picture in his hands and is suddenly too aware of his emotions, the sadness he feels after his father didn’t even try to hide the disappointment on his face.
“You’re really some Captain, Steve.”
That’s what his father said to him after the game.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
She takes his hand, lightly, but enough for the slight warmth of her touch to bring forth those emotions.
He bows his head and lets himself fall apart.
How embarrassing, ‘King’ Steve falling into pieces in front of a girl he hardly knows
But she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push for details, she sits quietly as Steve loses all composure.
Ever since then, Steve has classed her as a friend.
...
The search party for Will Byers started 30 minutes ago. Daisy’s mother wouldn’t let Dustin and her go.
So both of them sat in Daisy's room, not that Daisy wanted to admit it, sulking.
That was until Dustin’s Walkie started talking.
“Dustin, do you copy?” Lucas Sinclair’s voice broke through the static.
“I copy,” Daisy was barely paying attention to their conversation, that was until…
“Mike is on his way to mine now, we will meet you, and-”
Dustin cuts in, “and go find Will.”
“That’s the plan, over and out.”
“Over and out.”
“Not happening, Dustin.”
Her brother tries to play dumb, “We were just talking hypothetically.”
“I’m not stupid, Dustin, I just heard your whole conversation.” Daisy closes the book she was reading and walks towards her brother.
“And if you’re talking ‘hypothetically’, then why are you putting your shoes back on?”
Daisy steps on his untied shoelace.
“Come on, please, Daisy.” Dustin admits defeat, “We’re sitting here doing nothing, whilst Will is out there!”
Daisy knows it’s an official search party, set up by the police, meaning he would be safe.
Will Byers was the sweetest boy Daisy had ever met; the rest of Dustin’s friends were just like Dustin. Messy and loud. Will is quiet, more reserved and introverted. He likes to draw, Daisy remembers this from the time Dustin convinced their Mom to let him have a costume party. When Will found out Daisy could sew, he got Jonathan to ask her if she could embroider a design he drew onto his costume.
He was a sweet kid.
He is a sweet kid.
“Fine, but you call me from Mikes when you need picking up,” she leans down to tie his shoelace, “and keep your walkie on channel six, so I can reach you.”
Dustin jumping into her arms, sometimes she forgets just how little he is.
“Thank you! I promise we’ll be careful.”
Before she can say anything back, he’s already out of the window and heading for his bike.
…
“Daisy, do you copy?” It had been nearly 2 hours since Dustin had left.
“Yes, I copy Dusty.” The storm had gotten worse, and she almost started to worry.
“Can you please not call me Dusty over the walkie?” she can hear Lucas laughing in the background.
“I’m sorry, Dustin. Are you at Mike's? I’ll come pick you up now.”
“NO!” all three of them shout down the walkie to her,
“What do you mean, no?” Why did she let him go out again?
Mike Wheeler's voice jumps out, “Sorry, Daisy, I just need Dustin’s help with…something.”
“He will have to help you tomorrow, Mike. I’ve covered for him for two hours!”
Dusty dares to say, “30 minutes, please, Daisy.”
“Fine. Over and out.”
She threw on her dark purple jacket and slipped on a pair of black vans before sneaking past her sleeping mother and out to her car.
“30 minutes? Is he crazy?” she says to Dottie.
And just like that, she’s sat smoking a cigarette outside the Wheelers' House.
Before she can pull out her walkie, she sees a man hanging from Nancy Wheeler's window.
“Hey, HEY! Freak, get down from there, or I’ll call the cops.”
She runs below the window, and Steve Harrington drops down beside her.
“Relax, Henderson, it's just me.”
“Are you always in places you shouldn’t be, Steve, or is this a new thing?”
He rolls his eyes as they both walk towards her car, “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I’m waiting for my pain-in-the-ass little brother; he’s not supposed to be here either.”
He stops in front of her, “Well, why is he here?”
He and Daisy lean against Dottie, “His friend, Will Byers, went missing last night.” She passes him a cigarette.
“Oh, shit, yeah. Nance mentioned it.”
They sit in silence for a few minutes before he turns to her.
“Wait, so why is he here, though?” He looks genuinely confused.
Daisy laughs uncomfortably and raises her voice a little “Erm, I don’t know Steve, maybe he just wants to be with his friends? You know, actually do something instead of sitting around doing nothing!”
Steve now looks uncomfortable, “Sorry, god, clearly a touchy subject.”
Unbelievable. This is why they’re friendly and not friends.
“Obviously, Steve!” She pauses, “A kid is missing! One of my brother's best friends is missing!”
He turns back to her, “You’re right, I’m sorry, I’m an asshole.”
Daisy sighs, “ no its okay, you were only asking. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to take this out on you, I just-“ she hesitates, “I just cannot believe this is happening, Will is such a good kid, he would have never left on his own, which means that- ugh I don’t even want to say it.” She stomps on her cig and palms her face.
“You think someone took him?” Steve and his stupidly perfect big brown eyes stare down at her.
“I don’t know, I really hope not. What does Nancy say about it?”
Steve blushes, “Well, we weren’t really doing much talking.” He says awkwardly.
“Oh, wow, yeah.” They both laugh.
“The police are looking for him, and the town is helping. I'm sure he's okay.” He gently places his hand on her shoulder.
“Yeah, hopefully.”
Steve drives off in his beemer as she reaches for the walkie,
“It's been 30 minutes.” A silence far too long follows.
Just as Daisy is about to bang on the Wheelers' door, the lights on the street flicker again.
Suddenly, she finds herself following the flickering lights just outside the Wheelers' garage door.
The walkie reignites, a soft, quiet voice splutters through the static, a boy's voice.
“Dustin?” The street lights are now fully out, and that feeling is back.
A cold shiver does not run, but slowly creeps down Daisy's spine. Something is looming, hovering; she feels watched.
Stalked.
“Should I stay or should I go?”
Daisy loves The Clash; she loves that song too. Normally, the music would help her calm down, but she recognises that voice.
The quiet, polite little boy who likes to draw.
She’d recognise it anywhere.