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Vecna was unaccounted for, but El and Will were back in Hawkins, so The Party was reunited, finally fighting the battle side by side again. Except, it was all wrong, because Max was in a coma, unreachable.
And Dustin?
Dustin was only there in fragments. Pieces of himself that he played up in an attempt to shove aside his real feelings. They called those fragments his masks, and they never knew which mask he would hide behind on any given day.
They had no idea which Dustin would show up.
And though they all hated every single one of his masks because they knew he was only using them to avoid expressing what he really felt and actually talking about his problems, they each had one they especially didn’t like.
Dustin had six masks to hide behind. Six different Dustins.
The silent and withdrawn Dustin. The one who kept to himself when they hung out. The one who sat in the corner with a faraway look in his eyes - who seemed lost in memories that kept haunting him. Guilt written across his face. Thinking quiet thoughts that he would never share out loud.
Will saw himself in that Dustin, and that’s what concerned him. He knew how easy it was to get stuck replaying awful memories. He knew what it was like to keep everything in - to retreat into silence. And silence was only nice and peaceful if your mind wasn’t replacing the quiet with screams of guilt and self-hatred.
The carelessly cruel Dustin. The one who dished out insult after insult. The one who yelled and screamed and made you feel small - who looked to regret every word he said the second they left his mouth, but who also never apologized, though they knew he would someday. He wouldn’t tell anyone why he felt the need to lash out at them.
Lucas had a particular dislike for this one. Steve was on the receiving end most frequently, but Lucas got a few lashings too. It was less about the fact that Dustin was being mean and more about the fact that he always seemed to hit right where it hurt the most. Without fail, he would mention something that Lucas had already been feeling bad about. And Lucas hated that he didn't know if Dustin truly felt that way about him, or if he was trying to make everyone hurt as much as he did.
The frantic and determined Dustin. The one who threw himself into the cause. The one who was nothing but focused on finding Vecna, who spent hours, days, even weeks, endlessly researching and coming up with theories on where the telepathic serial killer could have gone. He would stay up at night, pushing away any attempt people made at telling him to rest. And he wouldn’t entertain the idea that he was using research to distract himself from his thoughts.
El wasn’t fond of this one. She wanted her friends to take care of themselves. To rest when needed. But telling him so resulted in him throwing it back in her face, saying she was constantly wearing herself out by training all the time, so she had no say. And truth be told, El couldn’t really deny it. But it was more than that. It was the fact that when he used this mask, he was consumed by a need for revenge, and El had seen firsthand how badly that could end.
The angry and reckless Dustin. The one who challenged even Hopper on all his rules with fire in his eyes and ice in his voice. The one who went looking for trouble and often showed up to strategy meetings with bruised knuckles and black eyes, claiming he was at the wrong place at the wrong time or that he was just his clumsy old self. No one dared bring up the possibility that he was getting hurt on purpose. He would definitely deny it and most likely turn his anger on them.
None of them liked this one. It was the one that made it the most obvious that he was hurting. Some part of him was screaming for help, but another part was denying himself any form of support. Because no matter how much they tried to reason with him or how much they tried to be there for him, he wouldn't let them in. All their concern fell on deaf ears.
The distant and missing Dustin. The one who turned off his walkie and ignored his friends. The one who didn’t show up where he was supposed to be - who was lost in the wind, and no one knew exactly where he was or who they would find if they went looking. He would change the subject whenever they tried to ask him where he was or why he disappeared.
Mike despised this one. After Starcourt, when he found out that Dustin had been in grave danger while he didn’t even really notice that he had been gone, Mike got a habit of always checking up on where Dustin was. It never used to be a problem because they were either always together or Dustin always answered his walkie to let him know. But now, when Dustin disappeared, he was just gone, and Mike would spend hours nervously pacing, biting down all his nails. It reminded him a bit too much about the time Will went missing, and with Vecna still in the picture, the Upside Down getting yet another one of his friends was a real possibility, and that scared him more than he liked to admit.
Or the smiling and joking Dustin. The one from before all the trauma. Except it was nothing but an imitation of him. He tried to act and sound like the Dustin from before. But his smiles looked painful to hold, and they never reached his eyes the way they usually would. And his jokes felt flat and awkward, and they never landed quite right. It all felt eerily wrong - because it was so obvious that he was seconds away from falling under the weight of keeping up a pretense. They could see it in his eyes. The devastating look of someone who had to watch a blood-stained smile leave the world and pretended like it didn’t bother him, like it didn’t keep him up at night, and ripped all that he was away from him.
That was the mask he hid behind the most for some reason. Like he was desperate for them to see that he hadn’t changed - that he was still the same old silly Dustin.
But it was the mask that made it the most obvious that he had changed, and selfishly, they all hated that reminder. The reminder that his happiness was all pretend now. They all longed for a genuine smile from Dustin, and sometimes they were losing hope of ever seeing it again.
On days when he wore that mask, it always ended the same way. Dustin would tell a joke he had told a thousand times before and let out a forced laugh. Someone, probably Will, would tell him that it was okay to be sad and that he didn’t have to pretend to be okay. And Dustin would whisper a barely audible ‘no, I promised him I wouldn’t change,’ that was mostly for himself. He would insist that he was fine, and then, if they didn’t drop the subject, he would find one of his other masks to hide behind.
Every single one of those masks were pieces of him that they already knew about. But they were pieces that used to exist within him, not like now, where he was made up entirely of the piece, the mask he chose to hide behind.
Because Dustin could be quiet, believe it or not, but never for as long as he was now, and never while looking tired beyond repair or like he was somehow at fault for everything. He usually let them know what was on his mind eventually. He just needed time to sort through his thoughts.
He could be cruel and make jokes at their expense, but never intentionally to hurt them. And always with an immediate apology if he realized he had gone too far.
He had always been determined and passionate about his interests, but he used to know his limits. He never pushed himself towards utter exhaustion the way he did now. And even if he did get lost in research, he would always listen if they told him to take a break.
He could be angry and reckless. Angry at the bullies who picked on them, but it was anger that was only ever shared with The Party and never shouted in the face of those who could react with violence. Reckless when he decided to conduct science experiments or build things that he was entirely too young to do without adult supervision. But he did it anyway because he was too eager to see the results. That had warranted at least one visit to the hospital and a hovering Claudia the following weeks. But the thing was, they used to never doubt that he wasn’t hurting himself on purpose.
He could go a few days without contacting them, but usually only if he was busy researching a new topic that had captured his attention. And if he didn’t show up for planned hangouts, it was because he easily lost track of time or simply forgot. But he would never disappear intentionally, the way he did now.
He was the one in the friend group with the brightest smile and the funniest jokes. The one who never failed to make their day better. He used to be happy. But now he only used that smile and those jokes to hide.
Because Dustin refused to talk about how he felt about Eddie’s death, he refused to even talk about what happened that day.
He refused to cry, and he brushed off any worries from his friends.
He refused to let go of his masks.
Lucas knew that Dustin only ever took off the masks when he was alone or with someone who couldn’t see the real him, because one time when he visited Max, he found Dustin already there with tears and snot on his face. Lucas had a feeling he had been in the middle of sobbing his heart out to her. But the second Dustin noticed him enter the room, he composed himself, slipped on a mask, and hurried away, with no acknowledgment of what Lucas had walked in on.
So all they could do was hope that one day he was ready to throw away those masks, piece together all that he now was, and finally let them in on what he really felt.