It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached their destination. Their mission was to contact the private investigator Nancy's dead friend Barb's parents had hired to solve the girl's disappearance. According to their stories, Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan were the only ones that knew Barb was truly dead and inside The Upside Down. Sloane still had immense trouble believing everything about last fall, but the look in Nancy and Jonathan's eyes when it was brought up was enough to know those eyes had seen too much for their young years. Sloane knew the feeling. Sometimes she forgot Nancy knew about the things Sloane had gone through. She remembered in times like this morning when Sloane had been about to slide into the drivers' seat, but Nancy placed a gentle hand on her arm and asked a silent question with her eyes. The look of concern was enough to push Sloane into the passenger side. She couldn't remember the last time someone looked at her like that. Maybe the things she heard last night in the motel room were impacting her view, but she was going to keep her mouth shut regardless.

They pulled up to a building that looked overgrown and decrepit, but the clean car out front was the only indicator that someone had lived there in the last decade. The ferns clung to the walls and Sloane was surprised the front door could even open with how much junk was clogging the entrance. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out of the car with the other two. Her eyes met Nancy's across the hood of the car, but Sloane refused to let her gaze linger.

"Are you positive this is the right place?" Jonathan asked and Sloane had been wondering the same thing.

"This looks like where the psycho lone survivor in the apocalypse movie lives," she scoffed as the three of them inspected the building before stepping slowly up to the stoop.

Nancy looked at the paper in her hand with the address from the Hollands, "3833. Yeah, this is it."

The air was brisk against Sloane's skin and she regretted leaving her jacket in the car, even if she was only going to be outside for a few moments. Nancy seemed to notice the goosebumps rising on her skin as she nudged her and handed her the jacket Sloane thought she left in the backseat.

"Thought you might need this," Nancy mumbled with a small chuckle as Sloane thanked her. "What would you do without me?"

Sloane shrugged, joking, "I dunno. Die, probably."

On the door in spray paint were the words, "Keep Door Closed," which Sloane found entertaining. She could never be a hermit like this, she craved attention and praise every moment she walked the dying Earth. She almost admired this sketch private investigator for the way he lived, but alas, she had yet to meet the man himself. Jonathan reached over and pressed the doorbell, but their ears were met with a harsh buzzing causing all three of them to flinch.

A crass voice came through the buzzer, instructing, "Look at the camera. The camera."

Confused, Jonathan leaned to speak into the buzzer, "What camera?"

"Not the loudspeaker," the man sounded exasperated, "Above you, to the right."

Sloane followed the instructions and saw a camera watching the doorstep in the top right corner, nudging Nancy to look in the same direction. As soon as they were all looking, the doorknob rattled. The door opened swiftly to reveal a disheveled man in a white tank top and a robe with large, wire-framed glasses settling on his face. He looked exactly like what Sloane would picture a hermit to look like.

"Nancy Wheeler. Jonathan Byers, you two are a long way from home," the man spoke before his eyes laned on Sloane, "You, who are you?"

With a smile on her face, Sloane pushed through the two and held her hand out for him to shake it, "Sloane Andrews. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Murray, was it? I'm a friend of Nancy and Jonathan's and I, for one, am interested in knowing what you can do for us."

"I'm not in the business of doing favors," Murray sighed as he warily shook her hand. "But... this group is interesting enough I suppose I could... hear you out." With that, he stepped to the side and motioned for them to come in.

The house was only slightly cleaner than the outside, but that wasn't saying much. The walls were stacked with various boxes and books, making the room appear much smaller than it was.

"I hope you didn't come all this way to tell me about the bear in the Harrington kid's backyard," Murray sighed, turning to face them once they were in the living room, "I've heard that one already."

Murray slid open a large door that led them into a room where the biggest eye-catcher was a corkboard with a plethora of pictures and news clippings and God-knows-what else all connected by pieces of red yarn. Just like in the movies, Sloane mused.

Behind them, Murray began explaining, "I followed up on over 200 tips. Most of them bogus, but that's how these things always go, okay? I know every last step Barbara took that day, every last person she talked to. The answer to what happened to your friend, it's up there somewhere. I assure you that. I just gotta connect the right dots."

"Timeline's wrong," was all Nancy said as the three of them observed the board.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your timeline is wrong," Nancy repeated as she turned around to face the man, "And the girl with the buzzed hair, she's not Russian. She's from Hawkins lab. Her name was Eleven."

Jonathan interjected softly, "You might want to sit down for this."

Walking back to the living room, Sloane sighed as she settled down on the couch, enjoying the show, "You've barely scratched the surface, Mur, can I call you that? Anyway, Mur, you are being paid handsomely, but you're never going to find out what happened to Barb. Not without them."

"What do you have to do with all this?" Murray looked over at the blonde while Nancy was searching in her bag for the tape recorder.

Looking up, Sloane made eye contact with Nancy and winked. Shrugging, she turned back to Murray and said, "I'm just the eye candy. Not to mention I embody all of the confidence Jonathan here lacks severely."

Nancy laughed but soon covered it up with a cough as she cleared her throat to bring attention to the tape recorder that was now in her hand, prefacing, "This is solid proof that Hawkins Lab is responsible for Barbara's death. Just listen."

As the tape played, a shiver went down Sloane's spine as she remembered the events that led to that confession. Not to mention the cool, calm town in the man's voice was almost disrespectful as he admitted that the people at Hawkins Lab were responsible for Barb's death. The fact that someone could speak about the loss of another person, even though it was someone Sloane had never gotten to meet, so casually was sickening. Goosebumps raised on her skin underneath the jacket, but this time they were not because of the cold. Murray's face was stoic and unreadable as he listened to the tape.

When it was over, Nancy simply asked, "So, is it enough?"

i missed my girls so much get ready for some good good sloane and nancy content i forgot how much i loved these two and i cannot wait to see them in season three y'all are gettin GOOD shit coming soon real soon but i am sorry this chapter was short this is just a lot of plot ft sloane being the love of my life and snarky as hell anyway i hope you guys enjoyed regardless and i promise i wont let bubblegum go unupdated for so long again!!