SOMETIMES, NIGHTMARES WIN.

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STARCROSSED (book one).
°• CHAPTER FOUR •°

" YOU SHOULDN'T BE
CARRYING THIS, TOO. "

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ELIJAH IS STILL TIRED WHEN HE OPENS HIS EYES. They burn almost immediately because of the sunlight peeking through the curtain of his room. He thinks a weight was dragging him further into the mattress like the blanket draped over him weighed a hundred pounds more than it should. He can't move a limb. He can't kick it off, can't swing his leg over the edge, and drag himself out of his room. He's never been afraid to cry freely and the urge is there, but no tears spill to drip on the pillowcase. Elijah thinks something dark had drained him of feeling alive. Maybe it was Steve. Maybe it was Nevaeh. Maybe it was Jonathan or Will. Or maybe it was because Elijah was the absolute biggest screw up the world had to offer, and he did this to himself.

"Come on," Elijah whispers to no one but himself. He can do this. He's not fucking pathetic. His muscles tense as he tries to make them move with a twitch of his fingers, but nothing happens. He can't make it and it only makes him somehow feel even worse.

Elijah was always what held the Wolfhart family together. Once their mother died and their father started working, rarely returning home, it was him who made sure they were alright. He packed Tobia lunches and kept them in the fridge, made sure there were enough leftovers for him from the dinner he made, double-checked there were pillows on the couch before he went to bed, and would set alarms for him in case he forgot. It was Elijah who woke Nevaeh up for school, drove her and her friends anywhere they wanted, made sure she did her homework before dinner, and didn't fall asleep until he was sure she did.

And he was tired. He was so fucking exhausted from carrying them. There was only one person who looked out for Elijah. Steve stayed up with him if he was worried about his father, let him cry about his mother since he couldn't in front of the others, gathered his homework if he missed school, and helped him find a stable car. But he was long gone now. He wasn't coming back to be the stability he needed. It was up to Elijah to take care of himself. No one else wanted him, so he had to want himself.

It must have been a few hours before Elijah can finally move. He remained on his back with his eyes locked on the popcorn ceiling, ignoring the minutes he counted ticking by in his head. This was going on for too long. He's better than this. Yet, it still takes every bit of strength he had left in him to pull himself up. Elijah feels as if he's slept for days and the effects of being tired were taking a longer toll on him.

He's uninterested in breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever time it was. It was probably still morning. He doesn't care to fill his empty stomach because he believes he wouldn't be able to stomach anything anyway. Elijah's feet feel like boulders that he has to drag across the ground and weigh him down. He wants nothing more than to crawl back in bed and lay there longer. The only thing he was glad about was that he's been suspended from school for awhile. At least he doesn't have to drag himself to the building and stay there for hours when he'd rather lay down.

Elijah's hopeful that Tobia was home so Nevaeh would have a ride to school and frankly shocked his car was parked in the driveway. But he wouldn't complain. He only stiffens with uncertainty when he hears his father's voice drift in the air as if he's trying to be quiet so Elijah wouldn't hear. "Turn it off. I'll tell him later. He doesn't have to find out like this - "

He cuts himself off when Elijah turns the corner with a puzzled expression when he sees his sister, home, rushing to turn the knob of the television off. Her hand freezes as soon as it makes contact and their eyes met. Elijah's tired gaze flickers from Nevaeh to Tobia and he questions, "Tell me what?"

Nevaeh slowly moves away from the screen so Elijah can get a better look. A news reporter speaks into a microphone, the scene behind him, unlike anything Elijah's seen, with dozens of trucks including ambulances and fire ones. It was something he's been expecting but it was also something he wasn't prepared to hear. There's no preparation in the world that could soften the blow.

"Byers' body was found in the water of this Quarry by state police earlier this evening. It was discovered by state trooper David O'Bannon, just after dark. The state police are mounting an investigation to determine Byers' cause of death, but an initial inquiry..."

Elijah tuned out the rest. He doesn't think his brain will let him process anything further than Byers' cause of death. He can feel a crushing weight on his chest that takes all breath away at the same time it squeezes his heart. The features of his face twist into one of agony, but he bites down on the sleeve of his night shirt before he can cry out to release it, but it still tries to escape anyway. The noise comes out strangled. Elijah can barely feel through the numbness when Nevaeh presses herself into his side, and he takes her down with him when his legs fail to support him further.

Her chin dug into his shoulder, her arms encircling him tightly, and Elijah doesn't feel in control of his own body. He can't return the touch, but he needs it more than anything. It's the only thing keeping him from shattering into pieces completely. He trembles underneath her, but Nevaeh only tightens her grip. Elijah's eyes squeeze shut as they burn with tears that slip through. He can't bite back the sob that heaves from his throat this time, and he lifts his hand to press over his sister's like it'll help. Where was the moon when Will needed it most? He was just a kid that needed the light to guide him home. Now he was gone.

"I'm so sorry, Eli," Nevaeh whispers. "I know he meant something to you."

Suddenly, Elijah rips away. He truly believed in that moment something snapped in him and he broke like he lost his mind. Nevaeh almost tumbles over since she was leaning her weight on him as he pushes himself into a standing position despite the way his knees wobbled. Elijah ignores the pity as his father calls his name and chooses to storm out the door instead, swiping his car keys from a dish on his way. He doesn't mean to slam it, but the sound echoes loudly with the unintentional action anyway.

He furiously wipes at his face as he sprinted to his car. Elijah's tears stain his palms and he can even taste the salty liquid on his lips. He struggles to open the car door and fights the urge to rip his hair out, choosing to instead throw a wild kick at the metal. It shakes, but at least when he tugs on the handle again, it opens, and he doesn't hesitate to throw himself inside. Elijah sits there for a minute, staring out the windshield with a heartbreaking look of despair, grief, anger...

Then Elijah sobs again and hits the steering wheel with his fists like it'll relieve him of the feelings.

His knuckles ache in protest, but he doesn't stop. Elijah's bronze skin starts to flush as he grits his teeth, wept tears that burn their way out of his eyes, and punches at the wheel until his arms feel like jelly. Elijah was so endlessly fucking tired of losing people. Will Byers wasn't his brother, he wasn't family, but it was like losing someone that felt like it.

He knows he shouldn't drive when he's like this, but Elijah can't find it in himself to give a damn. He shoves the keys in the ignition and turns them to start the car, practically slamming his foot on the gas to peel away. Elijah doesn't know where's he's going. He doesn't know if he'll do something stupid, something reckless, and hit a tree or something because he's in a state of anguish.

Elijah only knows Will Byers died the night he disappeared, alone, afraid, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

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The hours drag further than what they did when Elijah couldn't get out of bed. He doesn't care to check the time. At least he didn't run into a tree or off a cliff, though it was becoming more tempting. He's thought he cried out all his tears but as soon as he pulls into the Byers' driveway, he can feel them trail down his cheeks again like they were embedding themselves by finding a home there. Elijah doesn't know what he's doing here. He's probably the last face either Jonathan or Joyce wanted to see, especially when they're mourning, but he wants to apologize. He wants to say something.

He thinks he's lucky that it's only Joyce there because Jonathan would have broken down in a way that Elijah wouldn't know how to handle. But Joyce is strong. He can tell she's cried, obviously, but he expected more considering she just found out her son died. Elijah recalls Jonathan telling him his mom wasn't handling this well, and he took it as she was in a tough state of grief. But maybe he guessed wrong.

"Hi, Mrs. Byers," he greets quietly because he doesn't know what else to say. Elijah wrings his hands together, a little awkward and unsure. "I - I know I shouldn't be here, but I - "

"Nonsense," Joyce immediately dismisses him. "You're always welcome here, Eli." Her voice is strained but she won't turn Elijah away, as if his presence alone filled an emptiness in her. She lets Elijah step in then, and he has to survey the contents of the house twice to be sure he's seeing right and he didn't fuck up his vision crying so badly.

Various items were scattered across the living room. There's what was once a hole in the wall that had recently been covered in tapestry. Above a torn couch was the painted letters of the alphabet, each one underneath a Christmas light, but none of them were lit. More lights have been either hung around the ceiling or discarded on the ground. Elijah doesn't remember the last time the Byers' place looked like this, but he doesn't comment on it. Who was he to judge?

They end up sitting at the kitchen table. Joyce had poured Elijah a cup of tea but he doesn't touch it. His eyes only glaze over the steam as his fingers twitch with the wish for at least one cigarette. He didn't trust himself to smoke as he drove because being unstable while behind the wheel was enough. Elijah didn't think to grab the pack in his car. He'd give anything to fill his lungs with smoke to feel even the slightest bit calm and take the weight off his shoulders.

Joyce, who was also a smoker, noticed the anxious tick and frowned. "You alright?" She questions him quietly.

A small, wet laugh breaks from Elijah. "Yeah, I'm - shit, I came here to tell you I'm sorry. I should be asking you that." He can feel his eyes sting again and quickly swipes his finger across his nostrils to cover it with a sniffle. "I'm sorry for what you're going through. Will never deserved this."

His hand suddenly feels warmer when Joyce clasps it in her own over the table. Elijah finally takes his eyes off the smoke to meet hers and swears all he can see isn't just a grieving mother, but one who was filling with something else. Hope, maybe. "He doesn't," Joyce agrees softly. The hope swells as she realizes she's sitting across from someone who won't call her crazy, someone who's been through a lot he never deserved either. So she asks, "Do you have birthmarks, Eli?"

The question completely caught Elijah off guard. He thinks Joyce will shake her head and admit she was trying to make a joke to lighten the air. But she doesn't. She only stares back expectantly, silently urging him to respond. "Yeah," Elijah eventually utters. "It's, um, right here..." He uses his free hand to brush back his dark hair and reveal a splotch near the tragus of his ear. Nevaeh had one similar, but hers was closer to her temple.

"Has it ever disappeared?"

Elijah blinked a few times. This was so off trail from what he thought Joyce would want from him, but he doesn't deny her of the answers because he assumed it meant something deeper to her. "No. Not ever. I don't think birthmarks just, like, go away..."

The hold on Elijah's hand tightens a little with less force but more desperation. "Eli, please listen to me. The coroner wouldn't. Jonathan wouldn't either, and that..." Joyce pauses to take a deep breath. "That hurt like hell. But I know what I saw." She's firm, stubborn, her voice shaking with desperation. And all Elijah can do is sit and hang on every word. "Will was born with a birthmark on his right arm. It wasn't there when I, I went there, when I saw..."

"Hey," Elijah interrupts gently because he's not fully grasping what Joyce is attempting to spit out. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Her face pinches as she presses her lips together. The dam holding Joyce together finally breaks as she chokes out, "I know he's alive."

Elijah feels his already breaking heart sink in his chest, crashing against his rib cage on the way down. It was a blow just like he felt earlier that day. Because Joyce saw her baby's body at the coroner and still doesn't believe he's gone. Elijah doesn't know if encouraging her belief would help or make it worse, but either way, the pain feels just as fresh. It brings a fresh lump to his throat that lodges in place so he can't form words.

"Please, please, please don't tell me I'm crazy. God knows everyone else thinks it," Joyce begs with him. "But I - I saw him. He was speaking to me through those lights - " She sends a forceful jut with her finger to the wall Elijah saw when he came in with the letters decorating the wallpaper. " - He's somewhere dark like something out of a nightmare and there's something chasing him." Her words become more panicked as they spill, but Elijah straightens.

I thought I was living in a nightmare.

Nevaeh's exact words to him when he asked her what she saw after she took the pills. Elijah's eyebrows furrow as he tries to place the pieces to unanswered questions together. Did Nevaeh's habit and what Joyce believed about her supposed deceased son tie in together? Was there something he was missing?

Almost immediately Joyce notices the look Elijah held and alarms went off. "What is it?" She pressured him urgently.

"My sister, she..." Elijah trails off. He doesn't want to expose his sister for her problem. But there's a spark in Joyce that he can see clearer than day, something that was more than just hopeful. She believed with every bit of her soul that Will Byers was still alive. And he'd be downright cruel if he withheld information that could help her. Elijah swallows thickly to help him speak. "She's been taking these pills and using them like drugs." He ignores the sympathetic look sent his way and ran a hand through his hair, stressed. "The last time, she... She was asleep when I found her. It was like they knocked her out. I asked her yesterday what she saw, and she said... She thought she was living in a nightmare."

Joyce releases Elijah's hand when she realizes she may have been clutching it too tightly. "Do you think it means something? Did she say anything else?" She urges.

The weight presses a little harder on Elijah's shoulders and he deeply wishes he never got out of bed that morning. He wants to burst into tears all over again because it hurts badly. He's still grieving, he's confused as all hell, and he'd give anything to help her because he wants to believe Will is alive too. But he doesn't know where to even start. Elijah knows he's seconds away from weeping all over again when his lower lip starts to tremble, but she stops.

It was then that Joyce realizes who she's talking to. A kid, a seventeen year old with a sister who he was trying to ease off the pills she was hooked on, unsure what he could do to help. Elijah would sacrifice anything to help, but he shouldn't have to. Joyce knows she can't ask that of him.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she quickly apologizes. Joyce quickly calms her frazzled state and doesn't grip Elijah's hand this time when she reaches out, only pressing her palm over his knuckles. The warm touch keeps him from breaking down. "I shouldn't be asking you this, it's not... You shouldn't be carrying this, too."

Because Elijah was worn out from how much he's been carrying.

The sound of soft knocking at the door startles both Elijah and Joyce. He can see the way she tenses and almost freezes as soon as the noise reaches her. She stands in a posture that makes Elijah think she's bracing herself for an incoming attack. She's somehow coming off as stronger even though Elijah almost towers over her smaller, frail statue at his height. Her hands shake into fists as she parts the door open, but the stiffness in her frame fades when she sees whoever is on the other side.

"Hi, Mrs. Byers," a soft voice greets timidly. Elijah recognizes Nancy Wheeler the second he hears her and it only makes him feel worse. She couldn't have possibly picked a worse time to show up. Nancy is trying to be as polite as possible, but there's a hint of panic in her tone. "I'm so sorry, I know this is a bad time, but I'm looking for Jonathan. It's really important," she stresses.

Joyce opens the door a little wider, and Elijah can catch a glimpse at Nancy. Her blue eyes are wider than normal and she doesn't seem too surprised at the sight of him. That was a first. Maybe something else was bothering her more than the presence of a Wolfhart.

"Oh, honey, he's not here. He's at the Funeral Home," Joyce directs her, either apologetically or sorrowfully, Elijah doesn't know.

Nancy faintly smiled and says, "Right, thank you," politely as she goes to turn away.

"Wait." Elijah even shocks himself when he speaks up weakly. Nancy finally seems astonished that he's acknowledging her. "Did you walk all the way here?" He questions and she nods in reply. Elijah pulls his keys out of his pocket and twisted his finger around the ring. "I could give you a ride there," he offers.

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline where they hid. Nancy didn't even attempt to hide how she was taken off guard. Elijah considers what he did only when he thinks she'll deny him and storm off, but hey, at least he would have made an effort for peace. There was no better time than now to try. "Really?" Nancy utters like she thinks Elijah will take it back instead of turning him down.

Elijah snorts. "Yeah, really. Or you could walk again. Be my guest." Joyce turns her head towards him and lightly swatted his chest in disapproval. Elijah cocks his head in a silent, sarcastic motion and shrugs before passing her. She bids the teenagers good-bye as they leave, shutting the door after them.

Finally, Elijah thinks as he settles in his car and reaches for the glove compartment. Nancy sits like she's never sat in a vehicle before with her hands laced together and rested in her lap. She just about flinches when his arm brushes against her knees. Elijah is a little offended by that, but he figures he won't say anything as he rummages through the opening. Just the brush of the box eases the heavy weight, even just a little. He pulls it out and shuts the door.

The cigarette is balanced in between two of Elijah's fingers as he lifts it towards Nancy in a gesture. "Do you mind?" He asks.

"Mind?" Nancy echoes before her gaze lands on the unlit stick. "Oh, no. Of course not. Go ahead."

She's speaking and fidgeting so much that Elijah thinks she's afraid of him, which also offended him. He's been on edge since he watched the news and is dangerously close to teetering over. Elijah didn't deserve that. He lights the butt and brings the filter to his lips to breathe it in deeply.

"I'm guessing Steve told you about me," Elijah then assumed flatly, and Nancy's dead silence is answer enough. He scoffs. Today wasn't the day. "I'm not doing this. Just know I'm not intimidating or some fucking creep that stuck my hand down his pants." He tightens his grip on the wheel with one hand and pulls out faster than he means to. Elijah held himself back from spilling everything even when Steve didn't deserve his protection.

"I know." Nancy blushes and rushes to buckle herself up like she's trying to distract herself from the uncomfort of Elijah's bluntness after speaking calmly despite the hostility she was receiving. "I don't think of anyone like that. Really, I... I don't care who you are," she continues. "No one should degrade you for something you can't change about yourself."

Color Elijah in shades of pink because he felt a shock of surprise so swift that he almost turned the wheel too fast. He glances at Nancy from the corner of his eye. Her words were nonchalant, but her expression held a dead seriousness. She's heard tons of awful things about Elijah Wolfhart from Steve and didn't believe them. She didn't blame him for anything like everyone else, besides Jonathan, seemed to. Somehow, that meant more to Elijah, who had the world turn it's back on him. Nancy had no reason to believe his word over her boyfriend's, or to even show support, and still did.

It meant more to him than she'll know. Elijah's never been shown something like that from someone who was almost a stranger. They've only responded to what he was, what he couldn't change, with cruelness. So maybe he underestimated Nancy.

The rest of the ride through Hawkins is mostly full of silence after that. Elijah is too busy with his cigarette and he has a hunch Nancy isn't sure what else to say to him considering he couldn't even force out a thank you from being so stunned. Maybe she knew he appreciated it anyway.

Elijah can feel his heart snapping into shattered pieces instead of two wholes all over again as he parks, then walks Nancy through the Funeral Home. Coffins. Jonathan was picking out a coffin for his little brother. They were small, seemingly too small to have the ability to hold a child. Elijah wanted to double over at the thought of Will Byers laid inside one to be buried and he imagines Jonathan is feeling nauseous as well from the way his features curl as the director introduced some of the casket options to him. His hands dig a little deeper into the pockets of his denim pants.

"... It's made of soft wood with a crepe interior. Uh, now, I... I don't know what your budget is, but over here, we... we have copper and bronze." The man is trying to be as gentle as possible, but Elijah still feels sick from the idea of burying a child he cared for, one his mother believed was alive.

The color drains more from Jonathan's face until he's nearly as pale as a ghost when he sees the pair standing awkwardly at the doorway. "Can - Can you give me a, a second?" He questions the director who nods politely and leaves to give them privacy.

"Hey, Jonathan," Elijah greets. All hardness he always carried hidden behind his tone like a subtle threat was gone. He crosses the rug and brings Jonathan into a tight embrace. He can feel his friend start to tremble as his arms come around him like this was a hug he was waiting for. Jonathan had felt alone mourning the death of Will, his baby brother, someone he shouldn't have to bury for a long, long time. "I'm so sorry, dude," Elijah whispers with a strain against his shoulder because he doesn't know what else to say. There were never good words in a time like this. He hears Jonathan sniffle before they let go and he nods with appreciation.

Jonathan nods again when he sees Nancy standing uncertainly as if this was a place she didn't belong and says a simple, "Hey."

"Hey," Nancy replies. "Your mom, um... She said you'd be here." She does her best to smile even when it's faint with a gesture towards the other. "Elijah was nice enough to give me a ride." Which, again, Elijah tries to appreciate. He was starting to believe he didn't have to really hate anyone acquainted with Steve. Nancy doesn't seem to notice as she continues with a request of, "Can we talk for a second?"

Elijah's eyes flickered from Jonathan and Nancy and it's then he wonders if he was the one who belonged there. He thinks of Nevaeh and cocks his head to the door with an utter of, "I should go, then..."

But it isn't Jonathan who stops him. It's Nancy. She grasps his sleeve with thin fingers and gives a slight tug. "Wait." Elijah pauses as his feet turned towards the door. "It's important. Please?" She pleads softly.

There's a few things that brings Elijah to stay. First, he desperately wants to believe Will isn't dead even if it's a hopeless lie that will crush him in the end. He can't go on without knowing what the truth was. Secondly, Nevaeh could tie into this. And Elijah would give anything in this world to protect her even if he didn't know what was going on. He just had a feeling so deeply buried inside him that told him he was meant to be here, to help. To save them.

What Nancy describes as so gravely important turned out to be one of the ripped photos she stole and taped together again. They leave the coffins there and choose to sit outside the shut door on three chairs pressed against one another. Elijah's shoulder brushes against Nancy who sat in between them to present the black and white image. "It's here," she explains after a short bite of her lip like she was afraid to point it out.

The tip of her finger brushes a blurry spot teetering on the edge, almost out of shot. Elijah tries to squint so he could see better. It was something long, a strange image that was impossible to tell what it was unless you were face to face. If he didn't know any better, he'd guess it was a tree that got in the way of Jonathan shooting. Any other time, Elijah would have voiced this. He'd tell Nancy this was a waste of their time and storm away. But he doesn't. Because this had to be the missing piece.

"... It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn't using the wide-angle," Jonathan assumed. He let go of the picture from where he pinched the corner to see better. "I don't know. It's weird."

"It is weird," Elijah agrees. He tears his gaze away from it, afraid if he'd stare any longer than it'd pop out of the paper. "But it could have been a glare, some tree, or..." He trailed off. The more he talked, the less he believed it himself.

Nancy head lowers in disappointment. "And you're sure you didn't see anyone else out there?" She urges.

But Jonathan shakes his head. "No." He takes a breath, and then, "And she was there one second and then, um... Gone." He shrugs. "I figured she bolted."

"Who?" Elijah questions with his eyebrows furrowed. He figured who they were talking about. He raw reports on the news about some girl he went to school with who took off with her car out of Hawkins or something in the middle of the night. "Barb? The one who ran away a few nights ago?"

Nancy does all she can to avoid Elijah's gaze as she determinedly shakes her head. "No, no. She wouldn't... She wouldn't do that," she insists. Elijah fell quiet. "That's what the cops think, but no one... They don't know Barb. And I went back to Steve's... And I thought I... saw something. Some weird man or... I don't know what it was. I'm sorry." Nancy quickly changes her mind as fast as it brought her here as she fumbles for her bag and apologizes, "I... I shouldn't have come here today. I'm... I'm so sorry."

"What'd he look like?" Jonathan questions just as she's about to walk off.

She stops and spun. Nancy's hair drapes over her shoulder as she stares back with wide, confused eyes, like the question caught her by surprise. "What?"

"This man you saw in the woods. What'd he look like?" Jonathan presses.

"I... I don't know..." Nancy admits. Her voice starts to shake as if the memory became permanent because it scarred her. "It was almost like he... He didn't have - "

"Didn't have a face?" Jonathan finishes for her. Elijah suddenly remembers Joyce who continues to insist she saw something real. Something out of...

She's stunned into silence as Elijah adds on, "Like out of a nightmare," with realization from the hit of a final nail that this was it. This was everything he's been looking for. And now, there was nothing that could hold him back until he found out what it all meant despite what told him to stray far.

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author's note:

i fall more in love with elijah's character every chapter i write. he's really unlike pretty much anything i've ever written.

joyce has been such an icon and the BEST mom and i would LITERALLY DIE FOR HER. plus nancy and eli coming to an understanding?? we love to see it.

also keep in mind that elijah is a big brother, the eldest sibling who takes care of nevaeh. i'm the second oldest of five but because my older brother is scum, i really based elijah off of myself and how i spent my life looking after my sisters and brothers like i still do. elijah has the big sibling instinct like i do that wants to protect a child they care about which is why he's so broken hearing about will's "death" and partly blames himself. so, no, will isn't his brother but he's a kid elijah cares a lot about and it's easy to hate yourself that much in a bad situation.

lastly, i'd like to say it's completely canon that elijah suffers from bipolar/depression as shown in the beginning (and NO not because he was dumped. these are some severe mental illnesses.) and i'm also using his experience based off of mine, partly, but i'll talk more about it later on.

anyway, elijah wolfhart didn't deserve that pain nor all the hurt that's coming ✨ thank you for reading and sticking with me!!

- koda

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