Chapter Text
Everything is going fine. Will and Mike are helping Jane decorate her room (the dusty shade of brown was getting old) and Lucas, Max, and I are heading into the woods to find an old blanket that Will wants to give Jane. After he destroyed Castle Byers, everything had been left behind that was in the shack. Will had remembered the soft purple blanket, and thought it would match perfectly with Jane’s new lilac room, so naturally we had volunteered to get it. We had stopped by the Wheeler’s house to grab a flashlight (Max had pointed out that it was getting late, and without a light source, the dark would practically swallow us).
So here we are.
Flashlight in hand, walking to the edge of the forest.
Lucas sighs. “Well, let's go. By the time we get back it’ll be dark if we don’t hurry up.”
“You’re the one that raided the pantry before we left! If it’s pitch black by the time we’re done, it’s your fault,” I retort.
“Shut up you two,” Max rolls her eyes.
And we walk.
My shoes crunch fallen leaves and sticks, and if I strain my ears I can hear the soft hoots of an owl. The sounds of the forest are soothing and oddly numbing.
Click.
Click.
Clickclickclickclick—
“Max!”
The clicking stops immediately.
“What the hell are you doing?” I mutter.
“This stupid flashlight won’t turn on, Henderson!”
“So clicking it a bunch of times will make it work?”
She smirks and clicks it about fourteen more times.
“Give me that.” Lucas grabs the flashlight out of Max’s hands and tries clicking it on. The grating sound of the flashlight is starting to make my head pound, and finally, Lucas seems to realize it won’t turn on.
“Maybe the batteries are dead?” He wonders aloud.
He carefully unscrews the top of the flashlight. It creaks and scratches pathetically before the top falls off. Max catches it before it gets lost in the dirt.
“What the hell…” Lucas mumbles.
He reaches his fingers into the opening and produces a rolled up sheet of paper. Or more likely, seven sheets of paper rolled into one.
“How did that fit in the flashlight?” Max asks.
“I think we have bigger fish to fry here, Max,” I say, sarcasm dripping off my words,
She punches my shoulder in response, making me wince in pain.
Lucas slowly takes the papers apart. After about 30 seconds of unraveling, he holds seven scrolls of paper.
“Whats’ the writing say?” Max asks.
Lucas’s eyes snap to hers before he dumbly opens the first scroll.
“No, dumbass! On top of the paper,” she shakes her head slowly, signing exasperatedly.
“Ohhhhh–”
“Just read it, Lucas!” I snap.
He throws up his middle finger before bringing his eyes back to the first paper.
“To: Will. Letter #1.”
I can feel my brows furrowing. Why are there letters in here addressed to Will? Why hadn’t they been sent? And more importantly, why were they hidden?
My hand shoots out, and I grab the letter. And then everything makes a little more sense.
The handwriting is Mike’s.