Archive of Our Own

In the last twenty-four hours, Dustin Henderson has seen some weird shit, which is saying a lot, but none of it is as weird as what he's seeing right now. Because, if he's not mistaken, he's pretty sure he's watching himself flirt. 

Well, not himself. It's a version of himself, Dustin the Bard, a walking-talking nightmare scenario from another dimension that seems to be a fantasy realm, not quite like Dungeons and Dragons, but not not Dungeons and Dragons. 

Dustin's never really thought much about what it would be like to meet his own D&D character. He's thought a lot about what he would do if he lived in a fantasy world, that's literally the whole fucking point of the game. But the idea of meeting a grown-up, lute playing, smooth talking, tunic wearing weirdo—

Okay, that's not fair. 

... But it is true. Because this whole thing is weird! 

There'd been a storm the day before that knocked out the whole city's power-grid, then five minutes later Will is calling them on the walkie-talkie, "SOS, holy shit, SOS, guys, get here now!" And of course that meant everyone hauling ass in Mike's new-to-him-old-to-Nancy-car to the Byers/Hopper residence on the outskirts of town, and there they found—

Jesus fucking Christ, he's still not sure what they are. Illusions? Collective psychosis? All he knows is that Michael the Paladin, Maxine the Speedster, and Dustin the Bard are all here, and his fantasy clone is flirting with Jane Hopper. 

And, unless he's extremely mistaken, she's into it. 

The two of them have been almost inseparable since before the Party showed up, with the Bard limping around on a bum leg and Maxine completely unconscious. The Paladin had stood guard over the unconscious Maxine, while the older Dustin had explained to them in great detail how the three of them had been separated from the rest of the party by a wizard's spell. 

"We had discovered a strange ruby in the dungeons of his castle, carved with a series of runes we did not recognize," he'd said. "Lady Jane could tell it held a great power, so she gave it to me for safe keeping. When we were separated, Maxine thought she might be able to combine it's magic with her own so we could break through the wizard's barrier and return to our friends. Instead we've ended up here." 

It'd been disturbing to see the distress on his own face, how age sharpened the shadows under his own eyes. Jane, who'd been sitting next to his older self, reached out and took his hand. The Bard had laced his fingers through hers without even thinking, visibly relaxing in front of them. 

The whole thing was so... cozy. It kind of pissed him off. 

Now he's just actually pissed off, because ever since this new guy's shown up it's like he doesn't even exist to Jane. Which isn't fair, because it's not like Dustin has any claim on her time or her attention. He just likes it when he's the one who makes her laugh. Seeing her eyes light up, even as she's giving him an exasperated look, is like half the reason he's gotten so good at puns. 

They're hiding out in the Wheeler's basement, while Mike, the Paladin, and Will try the compass trick to see if there's any holes in the fabric of reality like there were before. Honestly Dustin would have much rather gone with them, but because of Dustin the Bard's injury, there's no choice but to stick around here and keep an eye on him and Jane. 

"What happened with the grey ooze then?" Jane's asking the guy-who-looks-like-Dustin-but-isn't-Dustin. She's sitting on the couch next to him, her legs tucked under long floral skirt, practically batting her eyelashes at him while he casually strums his lute. Meanwhile, Dustin is standing against the stairwell, attempting not to look like he's both intrigued and repelled by what's happening in front of him.

His counterpart rolls his eyes dramatically, feigning humility. "The sentient stone? I shouldn't say, it is not a story fit for a beautiful young maiden such as yourself." 

Jane giggles, tucking a piece of her long hair behind her ears, the way she does when she's nervous. "If that's true, why did you start the story in the first place?" 

Dustin the Bard nods sagely. "It's true, I did start this story, but I'm afraid I've gotten carried away. Lady Jane often accuses me of getting too involved in my tales." 

"I bet she does," Jane replies, glancing over at Dustin with a knowing smile, and what the fuck does that look mean? He thought she liked it when he'd go off on his tangents, she pretty much told him so!

Well, kind of. It's more like whenever Jane had a question about something, she'd started coming to him. And it wasn't like he was rambling at her, because she was always asking more questions, adding new insights and ideas, and you know what? Fuck this. 

"So, uh, Lute Boy," he asks loudly. "Know any stories about how to get you guys back to where ever you're from?" 

His counterpart turns his attention to him, a smug look on his stupid smug face. "I have a few ideas, yes." 

"Alright. Well. Care to share with the class?"

"Actually, I was curious what your thoughts are," the Bard answers. "Miss Jane has told me that you are often the brains of your party." 

"Bullshit." Steve, blessedly normal Steve who has no freaky clone from a fantasy dimension, comes down the stairs. He leans against the top of the entrance casually, as though there aren't two Dustin's on opposite ends of the basement. "Did she tell you I was the one who came up with the beanstalk plan?" 

Dustin rolls his eyes even as the Bard straightens up. "Was this the plan to save the world from a…" He turns to Jane for clarification. "A black cavern?" 

"A black hole," Dustin snaps. "And yes, Steve is the one who came up with the plan to use the tower as a way of pushing our way into the other world." 

"You'll have to tell me more," the Bard tells Steve. "It sounds like it could be a great song." 

Steve is trying and failing miserably not to look flattered. "What kind of song? Like a Led Zeppelin kind of thing?" 

"Oh my god, Steve, why did you come down here?" Dustin groans. 

"Keep your shirt on dude. Honestly, this guy, right?" Steve says to older Dustin. "He's so impatient." 

"It's a flaw, I'll admit," older Dustin replies, looking at his younger counterpart with affection. 

God he wants to smack him. 

"Steve. What's going on?" 

His friend jumps down the rest of the stairs, probably to show off for this new, cool, Dustin. "Well, good news! Lucas just got off the radio, the other Max is awake." 

The Bard attempts to stand up, but his leg forces him to stay put. "Is she alright?" 

"She's groggy, but she's fine," Steve replies. "I can give you guys a ride to Max's place, if you need one." 

"That would be excellent, thank you Steve," Dustin the Bard replies. "Do you have taverns in this universe? I would like to buy you a drink for all your trouble." 

Steve's eyebrows shoot up, and he turns his head towards Dustin with a smug grin. "Huh. How nice. My Dustin doesn't even offer my gas money for my troubles." 

I could probably cover up his murder, if I had to. Doppelgangers aren't legally people in this world, right? 

Steve leads the way upstairs, guiding the Bard on his bad leg, asking questions about how he gets his curly hair to stay in such good shape ("It's a potion Lady Jane shares with me, her hair is more unruly than mine!"). 

Dustin closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath in through his nose. This is the worst day of my life.

"Are you alright?" He opens his eyes to see Jane studying him from her place on the couch. She looks so pretty in her oversized sweater, her fingers poking out of the long sleeves to play with the homemade pendant around her neck. 

They'd made them together one day in his kitchen, her craft books and bits of clay covering his mom's orange tablecloth. She'd carved a butterfly into hers, a reminder of her sister who'd moved back to Chicago months ago. When she'd asked what he'd wanted for his, he'd shrugged. Surprise me. She had, handing him something that sort of looked like a bird? He honestly couldn't tell, but she explained it was a crow. "They're one of the smartest birds alive," she'd explained. "They're also loyal, as long as you're nice to them." 

Even now he can't tell the difference between her crow or her bluebirds, but he keeps the pendant in his pocket at all times. He's tempted to get it out now, just to have something to do with his hands that isn't strangling his alternate self. 

"He's just so annoying," he grumbles. "He's always telling some stupid story, or making some dumb joke." Or winning over all the people I care about, but that feels like it might be too much information to reveal. "He's literally telling you a whole story about a pig and some grey ooze instead of helping Michael do whatever it is he's doing! Isn't he taking this seriously?" 

Jane gets up and crosses the room, leaning next to him against the stairs, close enough that he can smell her lavender shampoo. Her one hand is still playing with her pendant, and for a second he thinks she might reach out and hold his hand, just like she'd held the Bard's. He thinks of how his alternate self had relaxed into her touch, like she was familiar, comforting. Dustin, on the other hand, feels her presence like an electric current, the kind that makes it hard to breath or sit still. 

"I think," Jane says gently. "He's taking this very seriously. But he's like you. He likes to perform." 

Dustin's chest feels like she's hit it with a hammer. "So, what, you think I'm some kind of attention seeking jester?" 

"No, of course not," Jane says quickly. "It's just how he comes up with his ideas. It's like he's skipping stones with his thoughts, and he wants to see where they land." 

It sounds poetic when she puts it that way, but it doesn't make him, Normal Teenage Dustin, feel any less like a dick. "Well I'm glad you like him. I'm ready to never see myself ever again." He pauses, considers it. "Unless it's in a mirror, I guess." 

"I don't know. I think he's cute." She tucks her hair behind her ears, a pink blush dusting her cheeks, but before he has a chance to find out what that's about Steve is blaring his horn, and it's time to leave. 

At least he's not alone in his misery. One look at Mike's dark expression tells Dustin all he needs to know about how that's going. 

"Any luck finding a weak spot in the space-time-continuum?" he asks. 

Mike shakes his head. "Compass was normal the whole damn time." He's watching Michael and Will strolling up ahead of them towards Max's trailer, their heads bent together in confidence. Will laughs at something the Paladin says, and son of a bitch is this asshole flirting too? Motherfucker, these jackasses aren't from a fantasy realm, they're minions of Venus sent to make Dustin and Mike's lives a walking nightmare. 

"They seem close," Dustin grumbles.

"I guess," Mike mutters, his arms crossed, his fingers digging into his bicep. "He's got no stealth points though. That armor clanked the entire time we were walking." 

Dustin huffs, his attention drifting towards Jane and the Bard. From the way she and Steve are belly laughing, she must have convinced him to tell the rest of his story. "We have got to get these assholes back home." 

"Okay, but how?" Mike replies. "Even if Maxine is actually a speedster, there's no guarantee her magic works in our world." 

He'd considered that too. "Let's just go see what she has to say." 

Apparently she's saying a lot, just not to anyone but Max. 

"So you're telling me there are carriages here that can travel faster than a horse? And anyone can use them?" 

"They're not really carriages, but yeah, that's the general idea."

"Yet even with this magic available to all, you still prefer to use your skate-board?" 

"Hell yes, you know how much better it is to feel the wind in your hair when you're tearing up a half pipe?" 

"I do not, but I can imagine it is bitchin." 

"They've been like this for fifteen minutes," Lucas informs them when they get inside. They'd kept Maxine at the trailer because Max's mom was working a double shift, and hopefully the fantasy doppelgangers would be gone by the time she got home. 

"Oh please, you love it," Max says, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

"I do see a hint of a smile on his grumpy countenance," Maxine adds, without the suggestive eyebrow waggle. 

"As enjoyable as this is," Michael cuts in. "I would like to know how you're feeling, Harebrain." 

"A little worse for wear, Doomsdayer, thank you so much for asking," Maxine answers, wincing at she swings her legs onto the floor. "I will heal quickly though, as long as I partake in a feast. Kinemagic takes so much energy."

"I mean, I don't know about a feast," Steve says. "But we've got a McDonald's about a ten minute drive from here." 

"Is that a tavern?" the Bard asks. 

"No, but I know the wench who runs the place."

Dustin groans. "God, please don't tell Robin about this."  

"Uh, too late man," Steve says. "She's bringing her Polaroid after her shift is over, provided you guys are still around anyway." 

"No," Mike says from where he's leaning against the wall. "We can't have any physical evidence that this happened." 

"He's right," Lucas adds. "If anyone found out about alternate dimensions like this—"

"Mike, it will be fine," Jane interjects. 

"Yeah, Jane's literally physical evidence of another universe, and we keep her around," Will says. 

Mike looks at Dustin, clearly hoping for backup, but as much as he'd like to also forget this ever happened... "They're right, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that we fuel up Maxine and see if her powers even work." 

"I agree with his plan," Dustin the Bard says, jerking his head towards Dustin's direction. "Steve, you go to this Mac Donald and gather up food with your Max and Lukas for the whole party." 

"It had better be me, actually," Maxine volunteers. "It is easier if I order for myself as well as everyone else." 

"Right," Dustin says. "While they're doing that, Chuck Berry over here can show me exactly what kind of mysterious runes were on your macguffin."

"I do not know what many of those words mean, but I will do what I can," the Bard replies. "But if we're going to recreate the wizard's stone, we will need a gem of equal purity." 

"I will help with that," Michael says, his armor clanking as he steps forward. "Will, do you know where we can find a trove of rubies? Emeralds could do in a pinch." 

Will looks like he's got stars in his eyes, and his face is getting redder by the second. "Uh..."

"I'll help you look," Mike cuts in quickly. "My mom might have some stuff we can use." 

"Your mom has costume jewelry," Max says. 

"She has some nice stuff too!" 

"Whatever," Max says. "Jane, you want to help me break into a Jared's?" 

"Don't do that!" 

"Sounds like a fine quest!" 

The two Dustin's glare at each other, before younger Dustin rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Fine."

"Not fine!" Mike shouts. "What are you guys—" 

Dustin ignores him. "Just don't forget about the cameras, and the security guards, and the—"

"Dustin, we know," Jane says, a devilish grin on her face. "We won't get caught, okay?" 

"Besides, if we do we know the Chief of Police," Max says. 

"That's not going to stop you from getting arrested." 

"Yeah, but it does mean you won't have to post bail." 

They're going to kill me. I'm going to die of anxiety, and it'd be fine because they've already got a replacement lined up. 

"If burglary is our aim, I may have a plan," Michael says slowly. "It won't require any magic items, but I will need a disguise." 

"Like a makeover?" Jane expression is so bright it could rival the sun. She looks over at Max and Will, the later of whom is currently fighting some kind of internal battle. Mike's stormy expression threatens violence, so Dustin cuts in. 

"Sure, yes, go to Mike's to get him some clothes. Will and Mike can pillage his mom's jewelry collection in the meantime, and if we're lucky we won't have to commit a felony. Sound good?" 

The Bard nods. "Sounds like a plan."

"God, they're both bossy," Steve mutters, rolling his eyes. 

The Party breaks into their groups, but while Dustin the Bard is rummaging in Max's room for her notebooks, Dustin the Average Teenage Boy seeks out Jane. 

She's putting on her purse, about to leave the trailer when he reaches out to stop her. "Hey, wait," he says, taking her hand in his. The way her eyes widen at the contact sends lightening down his spine, but it's important that he talks to her before she leaves. "Listen, I'm not kidding about this, alright? If something goes wrong, it's not just a slap on the wrist. This could put you back on the government's radar." 

Her eyes soften, and she squeezes his hand. "I know. But I want to help, however I can." 

And god, if that isn't the problem in more ways than one. It's the reason she keeps putting herself on the line, even if no one other than them knows what she's sacrificed. It's the reason she approaches her new life with a hellbent curiosity, doing everything she can to catch up on what she's missed. It's also the reason he's fallen in love with her, because even if she didn't have powers, Jane would still do everything she could to help others. Even if it means doing something so, so stupid. 

"Please, just..." He honestly doesn't know what to say, every stupid platitude and phrase failing to cover the magnitude of how he's feeling. Instead he reaches in his pocket, finding the crow pendant exactly where he always puts it. He puts it in her hand and gently folds her fingers over it. "Take this. It's my good luck charm, and I'm gonna need it back." 

Jane face is red as she opens her hand, sees the pendant that she made just for him. She looks up at him, her eyes shining radiantly, then without warning she leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. "For luck," she says when she pulls away, and it's only the honking of Mike's car horn that stops Dustin from pulling her to his chest and kissing her for real. 

When he turns back into the trailer, he sees Dustin the Bard watching with a small, almost sad smile. "Lady Jane has always been a woman of action," he says. "It's good to know she retains that spirit in every universe." 

"I don't know about every universe," Dustin replies, knowing he's probably grinning like an idiot. "But definitely this one." 

It takes the Bard only a few minutes to copy out the "mysterious runes," but it's clear almost immediately that what he thought were runes are actually some kind of mathematical equation. 

"The question is which one," Dustin mutters. "Are we talking the Twyker theory? The Richard Kelly equation?" 

"I assume these are famous magic users in your world?" the Bard asks.

"Scientists, yeah," Dustin answers. "Although, to be honest, their theories are so far out there that most of the scientific community ignores them. The problem is they don't know what we know, so their range of observable evidence is limited, plus there's no fucking way you can recreate this—" He gestures at the Bard, "—in a lab, so there goes any kind of rigorous testing." 

 The Bard laughs. "You sound like my Jane. She often tells me the minutia of the magical community." 

"You don't invent stuff?" Dustin asks, genuinely curious. He's sometimes wondered what his role in the Party would be if he didn't have his scientific abilities. 

The Bard shrugs, pulls his lute out and strums a few chords. It sounds dreamy, the kind of music you'd hear as mists cleared and entire rooms hushed. "I invent melodies, mostly, which are their own kind of magic, as you know. Although I have been known to come up with a trick or two." 

Dustin nods, understanding slowly dawning on him. "The pig and the sentient stone." 

"Something like that," his counterpart says with a grin. "Mainly I support my lady. Whatever she needs me to be, I become." 

He thinks of Jane, how when she's frustrated with a problem he'll make a joke, usually at his expense, so that she doesn't feel alone. How he'll set up pumpkins for her to explode with her mind when he can tell the nightmares are keeping her up. How, lately, he'll just sit with her while they work together. "She's the only one I feel like it's okay to be quiet with," he says out loud, and he's not surprised when the Bard nods. 

"I met her as a performer first. The usual song and dance, literally," the Bard says, changing the chords as he speaks. "She was so serious then. Beautiful, but fierce, with eyes that could freeze a man's heart." The music is wistful, soft, bringing to mind soft oversized sweaters and gentle fingers threading beads onto string. "Turns out she can stop a man's heart, in more ways than one. For me, it was after my performance. She asked me to join her table, share her food and wine, and in exchange I would answer any question she had about my songs. 

"Being a performer, I obviously love to speak on the things that interest me," he says, shooting a knowing glance at Dustin. "But it was the way she spoke back that intrigued me. Conversation with her is like a game. I like to throw at many knives at the target as I can, just to see which ones stick. But when she throws out a thought, it's with precision, even if she's just trying to get to the next thought." 

Dustin hums in agreement. "She helps you think better." 

"Lady Jane helps me understand better," the Bard replies. "At least she helps me be at peace with not understanding everything. But more importantly than any of that, she is kind. She will always help, even if it puts her at great risk." 

The music is sad now, echoing the feelings Dustin has when he thinks about Jane putting herself into danger. She shouldn't have to do that, not when she has her friends to help her. But she'll do it anyways, he thinks, and that's why I want to be there for her. Because anything she decides to do is going to be worth the risk. 

A question comes to mind, one that makes his mouth go dry. But come on, when is he going to have a chance like this? "You two are...?" he asks, unable to bring himself to actually say it. 

Dustin the Bard grins. "We two are...?" 

"I mean. You know." 

"I'm afraid you'll need to say it out loud, Dustin the Inventor," his counterpart says. "Or else it will be harder to say it to her." 

He purses his lips, then sighs. "Fine. Are you two in a relationship?" 

"We are married." 

"Holy fuck!" 

The Bard laughs while Dustin's face goes redder and redder. "But— shit, I mean—how?" 

"That is a tale I will not tell you," the older man says. "I don't want you stealing my moves." 

And he keeps playing that damn lute like he didn't just drop a bomb on Dustin's head, for fuck's sake.

The door to the trailer crashes open, making both of them jump. "Oh god, there really are two of you." 

Erica Sinclair stands in the doorway, her hands in her pockets and judging every single inch of this new Dustin within an inch of his life. "You know I really thought you couldn't do worse than the dumb baseball caps, Henderson, but I guess I was wrong." 

"Lady Erika?" Dustin the Bard voice sounds something close to alarmed. "You are here as well?" 

"Yeah, I'm here," Erica answers, throwing her denim jacket on the couch. "Does this mean there's going to be two Lucas'?" 

"No," Dustin answers. "Just me, Mike, and Max." As if on cue, he hears the music from Steve's car roll up to the trailer. 

Erica nods her head, apparently pleased that she won't have to deal with two of her older brother. Not that she couldn't, Dustin thinks. She's easily the smartest person I know. 

Which. Holy shit. Now that he's thinking about it.

"Erica, we need your help," he says, pushing the notebook towards her. "Does this look familiar to you?" 

She glances over it once, then nods. "It looks like the Kwan-Scheinert equation to me. See this here?" She points to a spot in the equation. "This is supposed to be an x, not a y."

Dustin scans the page, mentally replacing the offending x with y, which would mean... "Holy shit, she's right." 

"Of course I'm right," Erica says. "I read about it on one of the sites Mr. Clarke had up at school." 

"He let you touch his computer?" 

Erica rolls her eyes. "Hell no, I'm not his precious star student like you are. I just don't believe in closing curiosity doors." 

"Now that is a turn of phrase," the Bard declares with glee. "I will be stealing that for my next performance." 

"Uh, you better credit me properly, or I will take that banjo and shove it so far—"

"Dinner time!" Steve announces, coming in with several brown bags decorated with the Golden Arches. 

"Jesus, are you feeding an army?" 

"Mostly me, I'm afraid," Maxine answers, following Steve inside. "I'll need all the energy I can get if I'm going to travel dimensions." She stops in her tracks when she sees Erica, smiling broadly. "My god, Lady Erika, you're so small here!" 

"And you still have no taste in any dimension, if you're still with Lucas," Erica shoots back. 

"Hey! I am right here!" Lucas shouts as he comes in, balancing trays of drinks. 

"Oh, I know," Erica says. "Now spread out the food, I'm starving." 

The relief Dustin feels when it's Mike's car, and not a cruiser, that pulls up is almost indescribable. 

"It turns out we didn't need to do a makeover or rob a Jared's," Max explains, almost like she's disappointed. "Mike's neighbor is dripping in jewels." 

"Mrs. Pendergrass? The one who smells like menthol and weed?" 

"That's the one," Mike says. He seems to be in a better mood, or at least he's not shooting daggers at his counterpart. Now he just keeps looking sideways at Will, utilizing the full power of the Wheeler puppy dog eyes. 

"Did you steal from an old lady, Doomsdayer?" Maxine laughs. 

"It would not be the first time," the Bard quips, strumming his lute in the corner. 

"We didn't steal from an old lady." Jane is the last one in, shuffling into the crowded living space. "We loaded her old mattress and vanity into a truck and drove it to the antique store."

"That's all?" Steve asks. "What took you guys so long?" 

"Yeah, it's not like moving heavy things is hard for you," Dustin says, grinning at Jane. 

She rolls her eyes, foregoing the empty spot on the couch to stand by him. "It's actually what was in the vanity that mattered." 

"You'll never guess," Will adds, practically bouncing in his seat.

"Was it the missing jewels of Princess Anastasia?"

Michael laughs, throwing his arm around his younger version. "It was, indeed, mostly junk. However, Mike the Eagle Eyed spotted something strange about this particular piece." 

Mike, surprisingly, doesn't try to kill his counterpart, but looks proud. "Show them, Jane."

Dustin's breath catches as Jane slowly leans over him, pressing flush against him as she dramatically reaches out her hand and place a massive red stone on the table in front of him. "This what you're looking for?" she asks, and even though she's talking to the room, it's like she's actually set him on fire. 

"Where the fuck did that come from?"

"Holy shit, she just had that thing hanging around?" 

While everyone is ooing and aahing over the ruby, Dustin looks up at Jane, her face so close to his, he can count her eyelashes. 

"I told you we would be okay," she tells him, her smile wide and infectious. 

He smiles back, keeping his voice low. "So the lucky charm worked." She makes to reach into her purse, but he stops her, lightly placing his hand over hers. "I'll get it later," knowing he's promising so much more.

Jane's eyes go wide, her face flushes, and holy shit she looked at his lips, holy shit holy shit holy—

"It's like I said," Dustin the Bard announces, reaching through the group of friends to hold the ruby in his palm. "Lady Jane is a woman of action." Then he winks at Dustin, who is back to envisioning his doppelgangers death for entirely new reasons. 

They can't carve an entire mathematical equation onto a ruby, so they settle on a fine-tip sharpie. Will has the best handwriting of the Party, so he gets the vaulted position of copying out the entire thing on a surface the size of walnut while Erica and Dustin micromanage his progress. 

"Do we think this'll work?" Lucas asks. 

"It'll have to," Michael says, taking the jewel gingerly in his gloved hand and holding it up against the dying sun. "Maxine, are you prepared?" 

"As I'll ever be," their companion says. She takes the jewel and places it in a small pouch under her tunic. "I am ready when you are." 

They all look at each other, the Party members and fantasy Party members, united in the feeling of hope and dread that comes before a mission. 

"Wait!" A car pulls up, with Robin jumping out of the passenger seat before Vickie even has a chance to park. "Sorry! I got off work as soon as I could, and I know I already met Maxine, who is so, so cool by the way—"

"Babe," Vickie says as she gets out of the car. "Don't forget the Polaroid."

"Oh, shit, yeah, right!" Robin dives into the backseat and pulls out her instant camera. "Okay, so, before everyone leaves, I want doppelganger with doppelgangers, god this is so creepy—" 

She arranges Max and Maxine first, snapping two photos for each of them, letting Max explain the mechanics of instant developing photos.

"God, Jonathan and Nancy are going to be so mad they missed this," Dustin hears Will say to Steve. 

"Yeah well, that's what they get for being overachievers with summer internships." 

It's Mike and Michael's turn, and despite their earlier camaraderie they are still awkward with each other, standing stiffly side by side.

"Some people just don't know how to pose for a portrait," the Bard says, elbowing Dustin in the side. 

"Yeah, well, not everyone can be performers," he replies, grinning. 

When it's their turn, they automatically stand back to back, crossing their arms like a movie poster. "God, you guys are naturals," Robin tells them, taking a third photo. 

Dustin throws up a Dio sign at the last second, only to turn around and see that Dustin the Bard is doing the same thing. "Holy shit, you guys have that too!" 

"Of course, it's a blessing from the gods of music!" They hug each other, delighted at this weird custom that crosses dimensions, and suddenly Dustin is struck by how little time they've had. He wants to ask the Bard so much more, like if there was an Eddie in his world, and if he was the one who taught him how to play, or if there's a Mr. Clarke, or his mom, or what's in the potion he uses for his hair—

"We must hurry," Maxine says, her voice a little wistful. "Our Party awaits us on the other side."

Right. Lady Jane. 

The Bard steps back, looking Dustin up and down with a proud expression. "You will do fine, Dustin the Inventor. Just never forget the ones who travel with you." 

Dustin smiles, hugs him one more time. "Godspeed, man." 

"You as well," the Bard replies, looking over Dustin's shoulder. Dustin turns around to see Jane, standing nearby, softly smiling and tucking her hair behind her ears. The Bard sighs behind him. "Aright Dustin. You get one one move, so watch closely." 

His older counterpart strides over (or limps, but it does seem to getting better) to Jane, taking her hand in both of his. He says something to her, but Dustin isn't close enough to hear what it is. Then he watches as Dustin the Bard bows to Jane, kisses the top of her hand, and bids her farewell, leaving her looking dazed and flustered. "Gets her every time," he says as he passes by.

The fantasy trio say their final farewells, Michael hugging Will for a long time before exchanging a solemn, silent look with Mike. Maxine straps Max's skateboard to her back, wishing her well and godspeed. Jane joins Dustin, watching as the Bard pulls Steve into a bear hug, each man slapping each other's back in that weird manly form of affection. "I'm glad you two learned to get along," she says. 

He shrugs. "Yeah. I guess he's alright. Still never shuts up though." 

She giggles, bumping her shoulder against his, the contact spreading warmth through his whole body. "Be nice to him. He reminds me of my favorite person." 

For a moment it's like he can't breathe. All these years, he's felt like he's only ever been the sum of his intelligence. He loves that part of himself, of course. It's the thing that keeps him curious, keeps him pushing forward. But there's a reason why he chose to play as a bard in the first place, back when Mike handed him the player's manual and an empty character sheet. Bards weren't just useful, a tool crafted to fill the gaps of a dungeon crawling machine. Bards are clever, funny, and (if he plays it right), well liked, just for being the goof-ball they naturally are. 

And, apparently, bards are Jane's favorite. 

The other-worldly trio stand together, holding hands, as a red glow starts to emanate from within Maxine. Lightening licks at her boots, at the coats and hair of her companions, and just as Dustin is wondering how neither the Bard nor the Paladin in metal armor are getting shocked, a bright clap of lightening blinds them, forcing everyone to cover their eyes. 

When they open them again, the trio is gone. 

"So do you think Hawkins is the magnet for weird shit, or is it just us?" Dustin asks. He's walking Jane back to her house, having caught a ride from Steve, who is waiting at the edge of the property. Dustin knows he could have pulled right up to the door, so he's grateful for his friend's understanding. 

Jane squeezes his hand, her warm fingers lace through his. "I was genetically engineered to be weird. You're just lucky." 

He barks out a laugh, and she hurries to hush him. "Hopper and Joyce are probably home by now," she whispers, fighting her own giggles. 

"Oh yeah? What are they gonna do, tell me to mind my curfew?" 

"No, but Hopper'll be annoyed if he sees us together." 

He remembers how rough it was for Mike, dating Jane for that one summer, all the horror stories coming to the forefront of his mind. But, for reasons he's not willing to investigate tonight, the idea kind of excites him. Do your worst, Chief Hopper. I'm not going anywhere. 

He tugs on her hand just before they enter the halo of the porch light, keeping her in the dark with him for a little bit longer. "So," he says, taking her other hand in his and tracing lazy circles on the back with his thumb. "You really like that chivalry stuff, huh?" 

Even in the semi-darkness he can see her flush. "What do you mean?" 

"I saw you when he bowed and kissed your hand." He slowly moves their hands so their palms are facing each other, fingertips to fingertips. "Your whole face was as red as tomato." 

He moves his fingertips slowly, deliberately, up and down her arms, wondering if she was getting goosebumps like him underneath her sweater. Jane moves closer, placing her palms on his chest. His breath hitches as she moves her hands up, her warm fingers playing with the curls at the base of his neck. "Maybe I did like it," she whispers, the heat of her breath close to his lips. 

"So then is that what you want, Lady Jane?" 

"I have a better idea." 

Their lips meet each other at the same time, soft and tentative, like they're still unsure of what's to come. But with that first step over, they're free to explore. Dustin's hands grip at her desperately, wanting all of her as close as possible, Jane's soft lips moving determinedly against his, each movement sending jolts of lightening through his body. He moans when she opens up for a deeper kiss, and she takes that as an affirmative to keep going, testing, teasing, god he cannot believe he waited so long to do this—

Steve honks his horn and the two jump apart just as the front door opens, Hopper appearing like a bear woken from hibernation. "Is that you, Jane?" he calls out. 

"Y-yeah, it's me," she calls back, nervously patting down her hair. "I'll be there in a second." 

"Who's that with you?" 

"Uh, it's me," Dustin calls out. "Steve and I drove her home. Will's staying at Mike's tonight." 

Hopper seems to consider this for a second before turning back inside, leaving the door wide open. "Don't stay out there too long," he yells. "You're gonna let the heat out." 

Jane laughs, the sound echoing like music in his ears. "I guess I better go in." 

"I'll call you tomorrow." 

"You better."

And, just because he can, he pulls her in for one last, lingering kiss. "Good night, Lady Jane," he says, raising her hand to his lips. 

"Oh god, please just call me Jane," she laughs. 

"As you wish." 

"Stop," but from the way she's giggling he doesn't ever plan on it. 

He finally lets her go, watching to make sure she gets inside, waves at her as she closes the door. He stands there in the dark for a moment, letting every nerve carry him away into the night, grinning like an idiot until Steve yells at him. "Come on, Romeo, I've got work in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."

In the last twenty-four hours, Dustin's seen some weird shit. 

But, you know.

Some of it's the good kind of weird.