***

MARCH 29TH, 1975

Her chest buzzed with excitement, the anticipation gnawing at her heartstrings. There was less of a fluttering in her stomach and more of an intense whizzing. But she didn't mind. Sophie assumed it was a good feeling. This year felt different, so she considered that it had to be a good thing. 

How could she tell? Her twin brother changed his name. It wasn't a large reason in itself, but it meant something to her.

William started to use Billy instead of his full name. He said he liked it better and their mother enjoyed using it. Sophie wanted a nickname too, but the only one she came up with sounded like a name for a dog. And her dad called her a mutt once, but the young girl knew he didn't really mean it. That's what she told herself, at least.

In her bed, the young girl laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. Once, she asked her parents if they could paint their bedroom ceiling to look like the night sky. Her mother thought the idea was one of beauty, but the task would prove difficult. In contrast, her father scoffed at the thought and claimed it was weird.

She'd do it one day. Sophie would paint all the constellations and it wouldn't look weird. If anything, it would look iridescent. 

A soft groan distracted her. Her head angled to the left, her gaze landing on the sleeping form of her twin brother. His muscles stood rigid under his skin, his fingers twitching against his duvet. He'd been sleeping peacefully for some time, but something had changed in his demeanour.

She sat up in her bed, whispering, "Billy?" He didn't hear her, lost in his apparent nightmare. Instinctively, the young girl slipped off her mattress and approached her brother. "Billy, wake up. It's me." She shook him awake, his eyes bursting open. He gasped, his breathing shallow. "You okay?"

He met his sister's gaze, his terror simmering down. "I saw him again."

Sophie frowned. "Who?"

Billy crawled upwards, leaning against the wall. He drew his knees into his chest, hugging them. "The Rickety Man."

The Rickety Man was a monster in Billy's nightmares. He'd been a constant presence for a few years. He described him as a figure built from broken bones, oozing blood from its chest. Imagination could play cruel tricks on the mind.

"He's not real. Mom said so." She tried to assure him.

His chin rested in the gap between his legs, his voice timid. "He feels real."

"I think that's just how dreams are meant to feel," Sophie commented, returning to her bedside. She climbed onto the mattress and sat down. "I don't have bad dreams, though."

"You do, too!" he argued with a faint bout of laughter.

With an exaggerated shake of her head, his sister disagreed with a soft chuckle. "Nope! All my dreams are good."

Sometimes she didn't have any dreams at all. She'd close her eyes, softly descend into the darkness, and see nothing until the morning sunshine would creep through their blinds.

His head tilted to one side. "Why are you up?"

"Can't sleep." She wrung her bedsheets between her fingers, barely holding back a grin. "I'm too excited."

Billy's eyelashes fluttered. "For what?"

"Our birthday, stupid." She giggled at his forgetfulness.

He rubbed the corner of his eyes, glancing at a clock that hung over their doorway. It was nearing half three in the morning. "Oh, yeah."

She regarded his lack of enthusiasm. Usually, he was as happy as she was when it came to celebrating their birthday. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Billy responded.

Sophie leapt off her bed, skipping over to Billy's. She bounced on top of the mattress, settling on her knees. "No, you're not allowed to be gloomy. You can't be gloomy for our birthday."

"It's not that." There was a lack of emotion in his face, his eyes dull. "I just keep thinking about Dad. He was really mad at us today."

"You know he doesn't mean it. He loves us." That's what she always believed. They were his kids, after all, and fathers aren't meant to hate their kids. It was practically a rule.

Billy, on the other hand, suggested otherwise. "What if he doesn't?"

"He does." She insisted, pressing her open palms against the blanket. "He has to."

His head turned towards her. "Do you think he'd do it?"

Her brows furrowed. "Do what?"

"Separate us?" her brother wondered, meeting her gaze again.

"That'll never happen." Sophie shook her head. "I'll always be here. No matter what." Her knees shuffled against the bed, edging closer. "We're twins," she said, "and twins are meant to stay together."

"You promise?" he meekly questioned.

She pressed her lips together and raised her arm towards him. Sophie extended her pinky finger. "Never apart?"

Billy stared at it for a little while. Slowly, his right arm shifted her way. He curled his finger around hers, clutching it tight. His mouth broke into a sincere smile. "Never apart."

The sacred promise was made. They would find a way to be together, always. Nothing and no one could tear the pair away from each other. At least, that's what they thought. It's what Sophie wanted then, and who could deny a sister her brother?

Their smiles fell when they heard their bedroom door creak. Billy's eyes widened and Sophie's head snapped over her shoulder, watching it open. Their vision adjusted to the darkness as their mother entered the room.

Sophie brightened up again. "Mommy-!"

"Shh." She closed the door behind her. Marjorie dashed over to her kids and crouched by their bedside. "We don't want to wake your father, okay?" She grasped their hands, putting on a smile. "Hey, remember when I said I'd take you to Disneyland one day?"

Billy nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, we're going." Her voice trembled. "Right now."

Sophie's eyes bulged, her mouth falling open. "Really?"

"Yeah, we are." Her hands slipped away from theirs. She reached under Billy's bed, retrieving his backpack. "Listen, I'll help you pack your bags, but we're gonna have to be really quiet." Then, she snatched Sophie's from the floor before handing them both to her kids. "We don't want to wake Dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy." Sophie presumed it was a surprise for their father as well. That would put him in a good mood. Her mother was so smart to think of that. It was odd they were leaving in the middle of the night, though.

They only needed the essentials, that's what Marjorie instructed. The children needed to take as many clothes as possible, their toothbrushes and washcloths as she wouldn't have room in her own bag. Sophie only had room for one toy, so she chose a little blue mouse a pastor had given her at church.

Once finished, Marjorie instructed her kids to creep through the hallway and try their best not to make a sound. The twins assumed it was a game of sorts, an early bit of entertainment for their birthday. So, they stayed away from every creaky floorboard and retained their balance by holding each other's hands.

Their mother unlocked the door, the click of the lock echoing through the hall. She looked back, her chin quivering. Marjorie guided her children outside, leading them towards the car. It was the one their father drove the most, but their mother had the keys.

Billy opened the car door, letting his sister climb in first. As she shuffled across the breaking leather seats, her brother asked. "Where's Dad?"

"He's not coming with us." Their mother told them.

Sophie froze, her small body tensing. Billy's confused expression twisted into slight fear. "But-"

"Sweetheart, just get in the car." Upon hearing her reply, the young boy didn't hesitate to join his sister in the backseat.

Marjorie jumped into the front seat and shoved the key into the ignition, bringing the car to life. The kids buckled themselves in before their mother sped off, leaving their house behind. As they began their journey, she kept glancing in the rearview mirror, almost expecting someone to be following them.

The drive was long and seemingly endless. They didn't stop anywhere, and the three sat in silence. Sophie's excitement began to melt. She was still happy, of course, but it had since dulled.

It rained that night. A somewhat rare sight for the young girl. Sophie knew it wasn't always sunny in California, but she usually slept through the stormy nights. She liked the sound they made as the water crashed against her window.  The raindrops made streetlights melt into pure amber. Their bright shimmers danced before her drooping eyelids. Blissful darkness embraced her sight. The young girl gave in and drifted to sleep.

The peace was brief, or so it seemed when Sophie awoke to flashing blue and red outside. The car was still, as were the dissipating droplets on her window. Her world was blurry, her eyelids viewing her down. She twisted her head in the other direction, her view landing on a sleeping Billy. He must have fallen asleep during the car ride as well.

Her head veered towards the driver's seat, finding it empty. Their mother was gone. How long had she been asleep for?

"Billy?" She patted her brother's arm, regaining her strength. 

He swiftly came to, his eyes darting. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"I don't know-"

A police officer rapped his knuckles against her window, startling them. "You kids, okay in there?" He tried the door, pulling it open. The police officer peeked his head into the car, his gaze fixed on the driver's seat. "Where's your mom?" The kids said nothing. "Don't worry. We'll get you kids home."

He unbuckled Sophie's seatbelt. "But Mommy was taking us to Disneyland?"

The officer picked her up and removed her from the car. "Trip's cancelled, I'm afraid."

The kids were guided into the back of a police car. Both assumed they were just waiting for their mother to return and then they'd be off. The cops tried making small talk with the pair, asking if they were twins and what they knew about their parents' relationship. But the siblings were tight-lipped, having been warned against talking to strangers.

Sure enough, Marjorie did return -- escorted by police officers. Her arms were clasped behind her back, her wrists joined by a silver chain. The police officers ushered her over to a squad car. Marjorie barely fought against the handcuffs, her face downturned and blank.

This must have been what a bad dream felt like.

Billy fled the officer's car, followed by his sister. Before they could reach her, the cops appeared in front of them, grabbing the kids by their arms and holding them back.

"Mom!" screamed Billy. Her head flinched, briefly eyeing her kids before the police officers forced her into their vehicle.

Sophie chimed in with her cries. "Mommy!"

"Let her go! She hasn't done anything!" The young boy did his best to fight the officer's restraint on his arms, but the older man was too strong. "Mom!"

They couldn't do this. As far as the kids knew, she was an innocent woman, unaware of the further danger she'd put them in. If they had been successful that day, Sophie and Billy Hargrove would be free of their father. They would still have their mother.

Sophie was right, this year was different -- it would end without their mother. The night Marjorie Hargrove stole her children was also the night she lost them forever. And it had to happen on their birthday, too.

***

MARCH 29TH, 1985

She said she liked hydrangeas once, and the colour pink. So, for her birthday, Steve bought her pink hydrangeas. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do this. Steve just thought back to their horoscope conversation in December and somehow remembered the date of her birthday.

But now, sitting in his car on the edge of Cherry Lane, Steve started to wonder if this was even a good idea. He was stalling, unsure how to go about this. Steve cleared his throat, adjusted his rearview mirror and faintly smiled. "Hey, Soph." He began. "Just wanted to give you these." The paper around the flowers crinkled in his hand as he lightly waved them, showing them to himself. "You know, since it's your birthday and all..." he paused, his mouth agape, "... Why am I saying that like she doesn't know?"

Maybe this was too forward. Steve didn't know whether Sophie liked him in a romantic sense or simply preferred being friends. He wasn't even sure of his own feelings towards her. Sure, after that cold December night, he considered the possibility of asking her out. But he didn't want to start a new relationship so soon after losing his first love.

He was happy for Nancy -- he really was. But there was this creeping fear that he would never be good enough for anyone. Who's to say he'd be good enough for Sophie? After all, she'd been let down by so many people.

He didn't want to let her down as well.

"God..." He couldn't sit here forever or Neighbourhood Watch would be out to get him for lingering. Steve wasn't the cowardly type. He would never be. All he needed to do was knock on her front door, give her the flowers and wish her a happy birthday. It was a simple task.

And Billy's car wasn't there, meaning there was a chance. His rival was already giving him dirty looks at school, and Steve could imagine his furious expression if he answered the door instead of Sophie.

He had no reason to hesitate. The only consequence would be complete humiliation if Sophie didn't appreciate the gesture and took it the wrong way. All he had to do was rip off the band-aid and get it over with.

Steve grabbed the card on the passenger seat, slipping it between two fingers while holding the flowers in the same hand. With his free one, he opened the door and stepped out of the car. He slammed it shut and began to cross the road, glancing either way. 

"Okay, okay." His shoulders loosened, rolling them back. "Hey, Soph. Happy birthday." Steve mumbled under his breath. "I saw these and happened to think of you."

A sense of deja vu hit him, and he briefly scanned his surroundings in fear of Dustin popping up somewhere; he was done hunting monsters. 

Once assured there would be no trouble, his posture strengthened. "Yeah, that sounds good." His fingers scraped through his mane of brown hair. He approached the front door, exhaling. "That sounds good."

He gave his hand a light shake. Steve raised a finger to the doorbell, pressing it. A shrill ring echoed within the house. His feet shuffled back, taking another deep breath. He brushed the dust off his jeans and straightened his back.

Behind the door, he heard someone approach. Steve cleared his throat, preparing to meet Sophie's gaze. He heard a harsh click from the other side, then a snap. The door opened, and Steve Harrington came face-to-face with Neil Hargrove.

Their faces dropped. Steve's lips parted, but no words left his mouth. The older man took a few seconds to observe the surprised teenager in his element. "Who are you?"

His shock was unneeded. There was always a chance she wouldn't answer the door, yet his blind hope persuaded him otherwise. He rolled his shoulders back, shaking it off. "Uh, Steve." He cleared his throat again. "Steve Harrington, sir."

"Fraid it doesn't ring a bell." He folded his arms, looking him up and down. "You friends with my son?"

"No, I'm a friend of your daughter's," Steve informed him.

A single brow lifted. "You're Sophie's friend?"

"Yeah." He answered.

 His neck bent forward. "A friend?"

Steve reiterated. "Just a friend, sir."

Was that so hard to believe? Did this man really think so low of his daughter that he assumed everyone disliked her? Well, he couldn't be more wrong.

Neil glanced down at the object in his hands. "A friend who's delivering her flowers?"

"No, it's just..." He could already tell her father disapproved of him, despite barely knowing him. "... I know it's her birthday, so," he said, raising the flowers, "I got her these." The man's eyes followed his every move. "Well, and a card as well."

He openly stared at the gift in his hand before his gaze wandered to Steve's face. Neil adjusted his posture, broadening his shoulders. "She's not in."

His eyes narrowed, and Steve cocked his head to the side. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." The insincerity in his expression said otherwise. "She's probably out with another boy. You know what girls her age are like."

Steve clocked his game in a flash. "Well, with respect, sir," he began, his voice calm, "I think I know Sophie a lot better than you do." It was a risky choice of words, but it was worth it when it came to defending someone Steve cared about.

The muscles in his neck tightened. "Is that so?" He questioned with a soft growl. "She's not in, son," Neil repeated. "But I can take those for you."

Though Steve could tell the man was lying, he knew Neil Hargrove didn't care. He certainly wasn't hiding his disdain for the young man. Yet, his stubbornness allowed him to persist a little longer. "I'd rather give them to her myself."

Neil planted his feet in the doorway, his stance threatening. "I think I've made it clear I'm not going to let that happen." His fists briefly clenched. "Now, you can either give them to me and get off my property," he suggested, "or you can take your pretty flowers and get off my property." Steve would rather stick them up his arse because that's clearly what he deserved. "Is that understood, son?"

He wasn't going to win this fight, and he didn't exactly want to press his buttons any longer. From what he'd seen from Billy, Steve could only imagine it was far worse with Neil. 

Steve sighed, his shoulders loosening. "You'll definitely give them to her?"

"Of course." His tone of voice didn't sound promising. Steve didn't know what else he could do. No matter what he'd say, this man wasn't letting him see her.

His arms drooped. Reluctantly, Steve handed the card and flowers over to him. His grip on the hydrangeas was rough, his hands squeezing its green stems. He took a step back. "Nice meeting you, Mr. Hargrove."

"You too, son." He answered back, watching the younger man leave.

Both were liars. Now, Steve could understand where Billy got his threatening nature from.

He returned to his car. As he climbed inside, the front door to the house slammed shut, and Steve was back where he started. Alone. Hated. Unloved.

Why did he bother taking a step forward if fate kept tossing him three steps back? That saviour complex of his was starting to get on his nerves. A part of him wanted to be the knight in shining armour to Sophie's fairytale princess, but she needed more than a fantasy. She needed more than him.

"Maybe this was a mistake." He murmured, turning the ignition key. The car blasted to life, the radio blaring music.

Neil watched him drive off through a slither in his blinds. His mouth twitched into a smug smirk. He didn't care much for the consequences of his actions, nor did he question his hatred towards everything and everyone, including those in his family.

His wife wandered into the hallway, her hand latched on the doorframe. "Who was that, honey?"

"No one important." He grasped an opened beer bottle. Neil barely addressed her presence as he raised the alcohol to his lips. "Just continue with whatever you were doing."

Susan should've known better not to ask -- she wouldn't get a straight answer anyway. "All right."

The cracks in their relationship were growing. They were slowly forming, but they were breaking at a steady pace. Neil's sought perfection was at the bottom of a beer bottle, and he was starting to pull Susan down with him. But she couldn't bring herself to end it.

Neil knew his daughter wouldn't be coming out of her room any time soon, whether she heard that young man or not. She had a tendency to hide herself away on birthdays, instead of celebrating like a family. Not that Neil really wanted to anyway.

Alone once more, he took Steve's card and carelessly threw it into the trash. Next, he grasped the flowers, scowling at their beauty. It never occurred to him his daughter might have a favourite. How like a girl, he thought to himself.

In a fit of unbidden rage, he smashed the florals against the kitchen counter. Even if they had already been cut off from their roots, Neil needed them to die.

He wasn't going to let anyone take his kids away, especially not his little girl. No, he was keeping her under lock and key for as long as possible. Neil wanted something to hate. If it had to be his own children, then so be it.

***

And thus begins part two!!

It's funny how Neil's barely in the show and yet I've managed to make him one of the worst characters.

I know this isn't leading into the main events of season three, but I didn't want to be too hasty. Let's say this is a kind of prologue to part two. I wanted to expand upon Sophie's childhood and see a bit more of her relationship with young Billy and their mom. The first section's written to be like a childhood memory, so everything's very quick and snappy. The second part is meant to give reasoning as to why Steve has yet to make his move with Sophie. For now, there are quite a few obstacles in his way.

Some of this is gonna come back later, so get ready.

Also, I know this is relatively short, but I didn't want to do too much with it, considering how we'd all like to see things move forward. Lord knows I do. I pray to whatever writing gods are up there that I'll get this finished sooner than part one.

 Anyway, thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this chapter, then it would be fantastic if you left a vote or a comment as your support means everything to me. It'll certainly help me write faster. Thank you so much for 29k reads xx

- Alice.