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006

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please don't try to find me through my dealer
he won't pick up his phone

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 the following morning after the basketball game. The phone rang and her mother had been the one to answer it, sometime that early morning when the sun was just beginning to shine through the windows.

She'd heard the voice of her mother, always soft spoken, gasp. Lucy had been just woken by the sound, still groggy, when her mother came in to tell her the news. There was not a bone in her body that believed her until she rang Zoya.

"It's true," said Zoya in a hoarse voice. "I tried to drive down to Jean's place but...there were cops everywhere. Fuckin' everywhere, Luce, I saw the coroners truck..."

"And it's not Eddie?" she asked, sitting on the counter as her mom paced in the living room. "Or his uncle? Are we sure?"

"Positive." There was a sniffle and Lucy knew Zoya was trying to hold the phone out and away to keep from making herself seem pathetic. She never did like to cry in front of others. "I've been trying to get a hold of Jean all morning but her mom says she hasn't been home all night. I–" Zoya's voice cracked. "I don't know what to do."

Lucy ran a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught on little knots. She pried her fingers through the tangles, wondering if she would be able to get to Zoya's house before the police did, which she knew would be surely imminent. They were probably getting ready to make the rounds and Zoya was closest to the Cunningham home.

"I can be at your place in...ten minutes, maybe," said Lucy, glancing towards her mother who was still pacing and sobbing. Her dad wouldn't be home from work until later and there was a good chance he didn't know what was going on. How many times had Chrissy been over to their house? A dozen? Two dozen? Three? "I can take mom's car and be there, we can figure out what to do, okay? We can call Jason, we can–"

"What's Jason gonna do?" spat Zoya. "Oh, god." There was an angry seething sound and Zoya was hissing back into the phone, "You better be here in five."

Lucy got there in seven. She was still dressed in her pajama pants, her hair now thrown into the worst bun she'd ever seen to get it off her sweaty back. She'd been sweating ever since she'd heard the news.

Chrissy Cunningham was dead. The police say murdered. Found in the Munson trailer, broken and bloody.

Lucy had never heard of something so horrific before in her life. She wanted to ring the Wheeler house, see if Nancy was going to run an article, see if the girl had any thoughts but she held off. She didn't know her that well, not like Jeanie had.

My, god, Jeanie–

Zoya ushered Lucy up the stairs and to her bedroom. She sat down at her vanity as Zoya took the edge of the bed. She'd closed the door, so softly, that it was almost like they'd never been here at all. Zoya's parents were still asleep, they didn't know what had happened, no one had except what they'd seen. Well, what Zoya had seen.

"Jason's going to go ape-shit," said Zoya. "He's going to think Eddie really did this and he's going to kill him."

Lucy shook her head, pursing her lips. "But Eddie couldn't hurt a fly, he would never–"

"That's not what the police are saying." Zoya sat closer on the edge of the bed and it felt like they were all here, together, again. Gossiping, whispering, giggling over what they'd heard, over the rumors of a girl and a boy, or of a boy and boy or girl and a...Lucy was lost in her thoughts before Zoya shook her from them by saying, "They think Eddie is some–some satan worshiper because of all his Dungeons and Dragons shit. Jason's going to think the same way–"

"Because he's always thought that way."

"Exactly. We know Eddie, right? We know how good he is, how nice he is, and if we can convince Jason and his fucking goons–"

"How the hell can we convince them of anything?" asked Lucy. She'd never been so fired up and so scared before in her life. Was there a killer in Hawkins? Was this just like the fire?

(the 'fire?')

"They're a bunch of assholes," she said to Z. "They'll believe whatever Jason tells them too."

"Then we gotta get to–to Dustin."

"Dustin?"

(didn't this conversation happen before? somewhere?)

"Yes!" cried Zoya before whispering again, "He knows Eddie, he'll know where he'd go–"

"We're looking over the biggest piece here," said Lucy, shaking her head. The seat at the vanity was uncomfortable. "Wherever Eddie is, Jeanie is too."

Zoya's head collapsed forward and onto her hands as she groaned. "Fucking Eddie, fucking Jean! I knew when I went to her house that she must've been with him but seeing all those cops–" Zoya was trying not to cry, Lucy could hear it plain as day. "I thought maybe–that Jean–"

"But it's not her," reminded Lucy. "It's not her, she's okay."

"But Chrissy isn't!" She pressed her hands over her mouth, seething openly as she rocked back and forth. Her face was red, the vein in her forehead pulsing angrily. She rocked a few more times, her knees curled up as if to stop her from stomping.

Zoya had moments like these, when everything became too real and too overwhelming. Lucy could only wait it out until the anger passed and she could breathe again. She did the same with Jean, trying to let herself breathe the best she could on her own until someone needed to step in.

When Zoya stopped rocking and her grip on her face eased, Lucy spoke.

"I think there's a way to find Jean."

"To find her?" asked Zoya, scoffing. "Shouldn't we be finding Jason? Keeping him and his dogs back?"

Lucy thought for a moment. It would be sensible to find Jean, to make sure she's okay, to hear her side of the story because it was surely inevitable that she would be with Eddie somewhere in some crack cave. But to face Jason? They could do some serious recon, hear the angry boyfriend's side of the story, tempt him away from Eddie...

"Jason will never believe us," said Lucy. "We both know that when he gets his mind set, it's hard to deter him–"

"I hate when you sound like an adult."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "We can find Jean or we can stay and play babysitter to a crazed Jason who will never listen to us. Your call."

"I hate you."

Lucy smiled.

"We find Jeanie. Duh." Lucy nodded, standing and grabbing her purse but Zoya added, "But how the hell are we going to find her? She ran off, she–she's like on the lamb, Luce."

"We go to her friends."

"We are her friends."

No, no," said Lucy, shaking her head, "her other friends."

They were at Family Video thirty minutes later. Lucy had always loved the video store with its dim lights throughout the entire building save for the flashing bulbs around some of the bigger movie posters and the neon red sign behind the cash register booth in the center of the store. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in. Red, neon, blazing against the soft skin (at least she thought it was soft, it always looked soft...like...like silk) of Robin Buckley.

There was a counter dedicated to different candies and a big gum-ball machine. There were rows of shelves filled with movies of every degree. Romance. Science Fiction. Historical. Documentary. Sports. Fantasy. Horror.

When they entered, the world changed. They were stepping through a portal into another dimension. The smell of butter and popcorn, or something metallic and sweet.

Standing behind the front counter, on phones and twirling cords around fingers were the exact people Lucille Graham had been hoping to find.

Steve Harrington turned from where he'd been standing by the snacks and his brows furrowed. "Hey...you guys."

"Oh, my god," said Zoya under her breath as she entered, "he doesn't even bother to remember our names."

"What–uh–what can I help you guys with?" he asked, giving Robin, Dustin, and Max an urgent side eyed glance. They were all three too busy on their phones, scribbling things down in pens and dry erase markers. "Looking for a rom-com for the weekend?"

"No, actually," said Lucy, stepping forward and resting both palms flat on the counter, "I think you could help us find something even better."

Steve, still trying to catch his friend's attention, smiled and said, "And what could that be?"

Lucy matched his smile and narrowed her eyes. "Eddie Munson."

Dustin's head swiveled so fast, Lucy could've sworn he'd get whiplash. He was scooting his chair closer to the counter where she was standing and he tried to give her his best nonchalant face he could as he shrugged and said, "What, uh, what do you want with Eddie?"

Max was scribbling something down on a pad of paper but her eyes tracked both girls as they tried their best at their own cool composure. Zoya with her arms crossed, leaning her hip against the counter and narrowing her eyes at Steve. Lucy with her own fabled smile. She could feel Robin's attention on her and it sent something electric over her skin.

"We've seen the news," said Zoya, "we're not idiots but we're not part of the group gathering right now to take Munson's head on a stake."

Dustin narrowed his eyes at them and glanced at Steve before nodding. "They're cool."

"They're cool?" hissed Steve. "Aren't they, like, part of that whole group that gives you shit all the time?"

"Hey!" snapped Zoya with her own tight glare. "We are not a part of Jason Carver's little fanclub, Harrington. You should know us better than that. We love Munson, okay? He's a freak but we love him and we're–" She linked arms with Lucy. "–here to help look for him."

"How...much do you know?" asked Dustin.

"That Jean's more than likely to be with him right now."

Dustin's head fell into his hands as Max hung up her call and said, "We know, I saw her last night with them."

"Them?"

"Eddie and Chrissy."

Zoya pressed her lips tightly together and Lucy nodded as tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"Hey," whispered Lucy, rolling over in her sleeping bag. "You awake?"

The sleeping bag next to her rustled and Chrissy's head poked out from underneath. She had a small flashlight in her hand and a magazine in the other. "Yeah," she said in a muffled voice, spitting some of her hair out of her mouth. "Why're you awake?"

"Had too much soda," confessed Lucy with a sheepish smile. "And you?"

"Too much ice cream."

They both hid their laughs behind their blankets and sleeping gear. They were only sophomores. Chrissy, freshly sixteen, Zoya and Lucy following right behind her in a few weeks and a month, Jean just a little over five months away.

"Did your mom think about the car, yet?" asked Lucy. Their night had been full of gossiping, ice cream sundaes, pizza, and movies. They hadn't gotten to their own personal gossip before Zoya was passed out on the couch and Jean curled up around her like a purring cat.

Chrissy shook her head. "She wants me to stop thinking about it, which means stop talking to her about it." She put her magazine and flashlight down beside her and rolled over on her side to face Lucy. "She wants me to focus on cheerleading, losing the weight before competition."

Lucy's brows furrowed and she whispered, "Chrissy, what? What weight?"

"She thinks my uniform is too tight," she said back in a little voice. "She wants me to be light as a feather so they won't...struggle to toss me."

"Your mom's a bitch."

"Lucy!"

"It's true." She didn't curse much but it felt needed. If Chrissy's mom could think that about her own daughter...it sent a spark of rage down her neck. "How could she ever think that? You're perfect, Chris."

The other girl smiled and nodded but in her eyes, Lucy could tell she didn't believe it. If she could go and find Chrissy's mother, she wouldn't stop to strike her. She'd be screaming in her face that not even Jean or Zoya could pull her away and Lucy was not that type of person.

But this was Chrissy. Beautiful, sweet, perfect Chrissy. Chrissy with her cute smile, with her cheekbones like cherries, with her dainty hands and manicured nails. This was Chrissy, darling, beautiful, lovely Chrissy–

She was the first to speak again. "They're going to be treated like criminals if we don't find them, clear their names, or whatever."

"Well," said Max, glancing at her friends first then the two newcomers, "I think I have a lead." All eyes turned to the red head and Lucy wondered how she was doing. Jean had mentioned that Max had been taking it hard this year since Billy died. "Eddie apparently gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick–"

Zoya snapped her fingers, face lighting up for the first time this morning. "Holy shit, I know him!" Her shoulders slumped just for a moment as she added, "Well, I knew him before he went to prison."

Lucy crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the ground as she thought. Jean had mentioned the name Rick before, she was sure of it. She closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could, piecing together an old conversation.

"We're going out to Reefer's place tonight. Eddie's been sleeping there."

"Why?"

"Making sure the asshole doesn't take his cut, I don't know."

"Eddie's been there," said Lucy with a firm nod when she opened her eyes. "Both him and Jeanie know the place."

Max nodded in confirmation. "Eddie's been known to crash there. There's a good chance they're both there."

"Okay, sounds promising," said Robin and her voice sent goosebumps over Lucy's skin, "but where does this Reefer guy live?"

"That's the problem. No one knows," said Max. "He's more of a...legend than someone that people actually know."

Lucy kept tapping her foot, desperate to rack her brain. Jean had said it, once, but it'd been so long ago. Like it'd been only in passing.

"Does he have a last name?" asked Dustin and Max shook her head and said, "I don't know."

"He's a drug dealer," said Zoya. "He's not gonna have his last name out in the open for the cops to find."

"Which means he's in the system," said Steve, resting his elbows on the counter. "So, why not go to them with what we know, what's going on?"

"Really?" snapped Dustin, standing. "That's your suggestion?"

"Do you want our friends to get arrested?" said Zoya, turning on him. "To get thrown in prison for something they didn't do?"

"You think Eddie's guilty, don't you?" said Dustin, crossing his arms.

"Hey, whoa," said Steve, waving his hands. "I believe in all that innocent until proven guilty constitutional shit, okay? I just don't think we should rule it out so quickly."

"Oh, my god," breathed Zoya under her breath as Max said, "That's precisely what we're trying to do here, Steve."

Dustin pointed back to Max to emphasize her point. "Maybe we'd have more luck if you stopped trying to look for a girlfriend and actually tried to find Eddie?"

"Hey, I help all customers–"

"Especially if they're a babe, right?" said Robin with a wink.

Lucy lost track of the rest of their conversation as she tried to think of what little clue's Jean had been leaving her all this time. They'd spoken about Reefer Rick, she knew that much. But hadn't she asked her where that was? Where was she heading all those long nights she'd be out with Eddie?

Jean held her books to her chest, maneuvering down the hallway between packs of freshmen still trying to find their way. She glanced at Lucy, smiling coyly. "We think he has a new shipment in, something from New Mexico."

"Really?" asked Lucy, brows furrowing. "He gets his stash out of state? How is that possible?"

Jean shrugged. "We're taking it to Lovers tonight."

"Who the hell shipped this to Eddie and not that drug dude he hangs out with?"

Jean shrugged for a second time, stopping in front of the girl's bathroom. "It's just some rando he met at a concert, like, last year. We're testing his stuff out, seeing if it's actually worth selling."

"You know," laughed Lucy, "you're beginning to sound like a dealer."

"Hey, baby, I'm just the tester!" she laughed back. "I'm here just for the ride."

"That's probably what all dealers say before they start, you know, dealing."

Jean only laughed, pulling Lucy down the hall and towards class by the sleeve of her jacket. Her hair had been pulled back by a few strands, creating a crown of braids by her ears. She looked like–

Lucy snapped her fingers and got the attention of Dustin as he looked up from the computer. She didn't know how long she'd been standing there, thinking with her eyes closed like some idiot, but she smiled and said, "I know where he lives."

"Really?" said Steve, sarcasm dripping in his tone. "And how could you possibly know this guy's address? Didn't Max just say he's a ghost?"

"Unlike you, Steve," smiled Zoya as she stood beside her friend, "Lucy actually thinks before she speaks. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"I think he lives somewhere on a street called Lovers?" said Lucy with a slight frown. She put both hands on the counter and carefully maneuvered herself over the glass top, hopping down on the other side to face the computer. She bumped Robin out of the way where she'd been looking at different customers named Rick. "This is good," she said, "you've already gotten us exactly where we need to be."

They had been looking at the different movies each Rick had checked out but that wasn't all they needed. The Rick they'd been on had checked out Splash. She went to the next, looked at the address and shook her head. She clicked to the next and grinned.

"2121 Holland Road," she said. "Bingo."

"That's out by Lovers Lake," said Dustin, grinning.

"And look at what movies he'd checked out," said Robin. "Cheech & Chong's Nice Dream. Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Cheech & Chong's Next Movie. Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke."

Zoya rested her chin on Lucy's shoulder. "Rick Lipton, just like the tea your mom always drinks."

"His place is out in the middle of nowhere," said Max as Robin added, "It's a perfect place to hide."

"Come on," said Zoya, pulling on Lucy's arm, "let's go."

"Hey, hey," said Steve, holding his hands out to stop them from jumping over the counter and leaving. "We do this together, okay? We don't know if you two will just take what you know right to the cops."

Zoya glared. "You mean the cops you wanted to go to five minutes ago?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "That was...a moment of weakness, okay? How do we know we can even trust you–"

"We can trust them," said Robin, wrapping an arm around Lucy's shoulders. It was like fireworks. It made her freeze, tense up entirely, but it was like fireworks going off inside her body. "Besides, I think we need Lucy's brain more than we need to protect your precious ego."

"Hey, my ego is not–"

"We're wasting time!" said Dustin.

"Let's race," said Zoya, taking Lucy's hand and already vaulting herself over the counter, dragging the girl with her. "Whoever gets there first gets to be Jeanie's hero!" She glanced back at Steve with a smirk. "Don't waste your chance on this one, Steve, I'd hate to see you lose another ego point because you can't drive as fast as I can."

That was all it took for Steve to jump over the counter with his keys in hand.

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍. Her eyes had been crusted shut and her throat was scratchy. She lapped her tongue around her mouth, still thick from sleep and muck. Everything tasted bad. Everything felt like it had been poisoned through the night.

She sat up slowly, her hair plastered to the side of her face. The bed was warm but this was not her bed at home or Eddie's. She knew where she was and she wished it had been a dream. She'd prayed it had been.

There was the soft sound of people speaking that shook Jean out of her trance. She stood from the empty bed and padded her way swiftly down the hall and into the living room where Eddie was watching TV. He was chewing on his thumb, which he did occasionally when stressed, and he was rocking slightly. Completely transfixed with the news report.

"It's been playing all day," he said when he noticed her standing near the kitchen. "The same thing. It's my fucking trailer, Jean, it's all over the news."

It was almost six P.M. and she wondered how she could've slept that long. "How much do they know?"

"They haven't released her name yet." He was shaking his head, his hair frizzy and tangled on the back. "But they're saying I did, that I'm–I'm a suspect."

She came to sit beside him on the floor, curling up beside him. She slipped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.

"There's going to be a–a manhunt."

"You're innocent–"

"Not to them," he whispered, still shaking his head. "Not to all the people in this town who don't know about the demon possession and the–the underworld, or whatever the fuck all of this is!"

"The body of a Hawkin's High student was discovered this morning," repeated the reporter. "The police had not yet released the victim's name...but we are told they're currently in the process of notifying the family..."

"Ever since that girl, Barb, died," said a woman being interviewed, "a few years ago, it's been one thing after another." Jean recognized the woman but couldn't name her. She lived near her. "I'll tell ya, you start to believe all those things they say, that this town is cursed, that the devil lives here in Hawkins."

Jean remembered Barb. She remembered Nancy telling her the truth. She'd been taken, just like Will, but she hadn't been as lucky as him. She'd never spoken to her and, sometimes, Jean was kept awake at night by those thoughts. All the people who'd died she'd never spoken to, never given the slightest look or care.

"It'll be okay," she whispered, not just for Eddie but for herself. "It'll be okay."

"My name will never be cleared..." he muttered to himself. "My uncle, he–"

"He knows you're innocent," she snapped, gripping his arm tightly. Where was his jacket? "He knows how good you are, Eddie. You're not capable of–of that."

Chrissy's jaw snapped. Her fingers cracked and jerked at different angles.

"You're not the monster who did this," she whispered. She'd seen monsters. She'd seen the faces of evil and Eddie Munson was not one of them. "Please, just turn it off."

"How are we supposed to get help if this has been broadcasting all day?" he asked. "Everyone knows my face, my name, we won't get far–"

"They'll find us, I'm sure of it."

"It's Steve Harrington, how sure can you really be here?"

She was glad he was getting some of his old spirit back as he stood to turn the television off. But this was still not him, not the way he usually acted. He was jittery, yes, but more so than normal. She didn't see any drugs out, she didn't even smell any pot.

"Hey, Eds," she murmured, motioning towards him, "come sit down with me, okay?"

He chewed on his thumb nail before nodding. He got down on his knees (like a knight kneeling to a woman) and crawled between her arms. She held him to her, arms wrapped around his chest, his head laid back against her neck. His heart was racing and she rubbed his chest, slowly, as she breathed deeply.

How'd they get here? How'd they go from a fun night to this? To suddenly being on the run, heart's trying to escape through throats, to being seen as criminals. It wasn't fair, was it? It wasn't fair...

She rested her head against Eddie's and they sat like that until it grew dark outside and her stomach was growling. He gave her a bowl of old cheerios, all they had to eat for the time being. They ate cheerios and hid behind closed curtains. But she couldn't find it in herself to take one bite. It was nauseating to her.

It wasn't until much later did she ask, suddenly, "Doesn't Rick have a boat?"

Eddie's head perked up from where he'd been searching through her cheer bag full of drugs and things that could've incriminated them further. "He has the boathouse, out back." A smile came to his face, one she thought she'd never see again as he said, "We can go check it out...if you're not scared."

"Me? Scared?"

"It's dark, it's late, there's no one here but us...we don't know what could be lurking outside waiting for us."

Even though he was joking, he was right. There could be anything outside these walls, even within them. There was always something, waiting, hiding to take them down but it could be within their own minds already. How could they know for certain what was real and what was something created by a monster?

"Come on," he murmured, holding out his hand. He'd finally put on his jacket and he looked so much like himself it was sending something warm torrenting through her. Could they return to normal? "It'll be a nice distraction."

She nodded, standing slowly and taking his hand. He was warm as he interlocked their fingers and took her through the back door. The night air was chilly and rose goosebumps against her skin. She was still in that damn uniform, her skirt far too short for what she'd been going through. Her cheer jacket was zipped up as far as it could go to keep the soft breeze out.

But none of this would be enough. None of it would ever be okay again.

They crossed through the backyard, the grass tall enough to tickle just above her socks. She'd never been to the boathouse before but when they approached, Eddie pulled a switch and the light turned on above their heads. It was the first time she'd truly been able to see him once it had gotten dark.

He looked tired. He looked scared. He looked like he was putting on a brave face.

He hadn't asked her any more questions about her confessions from the night before. Nothing about monsters or the Mind Flayer. Nothing about Billy but she remembered the way his fingers had stroked her scar in the middle of the night. She could still feel his fingers if she thought long enough, like a ghost trailing up her skin.

The boathouse smelled like a lake, stagnant and moldy. The door closed harshly behind them and she peered around in the dark. There were life jackets, bright red and orange, shovels and old oars, and a fair sized boat covered in an old tarp in the center of the room that would lead out to the water if they opened the big door.

It made her wonder if Chrissy had ever been on a boat. She couldn't remember if her family had ever gone on beach vacations or they'd just stayed here their entire lives like Jean. Eddie had gone across the states for concerts, for tattoos, for drugs, but Jean hadn't even seen the beach.

Would she live long enough to see the waves crash and to feel the salty spray? Would she live long enough to bury her feet in the sand (and then her head)?

Eddie bent down by one of the work tables, pulling open an old mini fridge and grinning. He held up two beers and waved them towards her.

"I know it's not the best time for a drink, but...we deserve it." He tossed her one and she caught it awkwardly. It wasn't cold. "Who doesn't love a lukewarm beer?"

She didn't think she'd be able to stomach it. She gave him a forced smile and set it down near the boat, going to look around some more while she could. She'd been on a boat during summer camp when she was a counselor, but nothing special. Just a little dingy with a few campers, taking them back and forth across the lake. She didn't think she'd ever go back to the life she had before last summer. Life would never return to the way it had when she was living in ignorant bliss.

Ignorant bliss turned to murder faster than the blink of an eye (quicker than taking a breath).

"You know you have to eat something," he told her when she'd gone to peer through some of Rick's old tool shelves. She ignored him but he continued to speak, "Or at least drink something, Jean."

"Can't," she mumbled, pulling open a drawer and seeing junk.

"Jean."

She shook her head. "Can we not talk about it?"

He sighed softly and came to stand next to her. His hands were no longer warm like they had been, cold and against her side. Ice seeping through her jacket. It was like the cold hand of death, the cold hand of something real–

She jerked back from him, where his hands hadn't raised from where he'd been holding his beer. He looked like he would say something but lights passed over his face and he was ducking down, spilling his beer across the wooden floor boards.

She jerked down, hunching over to keep out of the line of sight.

"Someone's here, fuck, fuck, someone's here!" hissed Eddie, crawling on his knees and hands to where she was. "We gotta hide, we gotta get the fuck out of here, man!"

The headlights turned off and she heard voices. They were muffled through the walls of the boathouse but there were multiple people, maybe five? Three? She couldn't tell.

"Get under the tarp," said Eddie, already crawling into the boat. He shattered her beer against the ground, holding the broken mouth up as a weapon as he motioned for her to follow him. "They–they won't find us here, come on–"

"Could you be more obvious?" she snipped back, swatting his hands away to go crawling behind the shelves and tool boxes.

She heard the tarp rustle, keeping her back to him and the noise. All she had to do was bend her head forward and no one would see her behind all the clutter and mess. She was even clutching an old wrench in her hands as if she'd be able to fight off the police. But there had only been ordinary headlights, no flashing colors, no red or blue, not even a sound besides the car doors shutting and wheels on gravel.

Her head rushed with fear, flashes of haunted nights at the mall burning the back of her mind.

She was shuddering against the wall, hoping he couldn't find her but she could hear his feet against the tile. The insistent tap, tap, tap of his shoes, of his heavy breathing. She often thought back to these moments and wondered if he was still trying to fight the monster inside of him or this was just him, this had just been him the entire time.

She saw his face first, streaked with sweat and gray blood. Black veins coated his skin, pulsing and vibrating with deadly life. He flexed his strong arms and his hand wrapped around her throat before she could take off running like she'd been doing the whole night. Leading him away, trying to track him as far away from the kids as she could.

He'd already struck Max, he'd already flung Mike to the side, and she couldn't let him get to Eleven. She was their last hope, so she'd taunted him, threw her shoe at him, desperate to get him to chase her. She needed to be hunted, she needed to be destroyed.

They'd raced down the stairwell and Jean stayed behind, desperate with her little pocket knife.

But his hand squeezed her throat, slamming her head back against the wall.

"This–isn't–you–" she wheezed, clawing at his arm. "Billy–please–"

The door to the boathouse opened slowly and she held her breath. It creaked loudly and Jean saw black dots dance across her vision. This was no time for a panic attack, no time to have her throat close so tightly she wanted to cough.

"Hello?" came a soft voice, feminine. "Is anyone home?"

"Oh, god," came another, "it smells like ass."

Little flashlights illuminated the walls in small circles, moving and crawling over the mess Reefer Rick had left inside. But didn't Jean recognize those voices? She took a slow and quiet breath when another voice spoke up.

"What a dump."

Her head picked up. There was the soft shuffled of feet and then the sound of something hitting the tarp. Dustin's voice shrieked, "What are you doing? What are you doing?"

"He might be in here," said Steve.

"So take the tarp off," snapped Dustin as Steve shouted back, all in fierce whispers, "If you're so brave, you take the tarp off."

The floorboards creaked as Jean got to her feet swiftly, dropping her wrench with an awful clutter as someone yelped and shined their lights over her face.

She felt like a deer in headlights, all the eyes of her friends she'd been so desperate to find were looking straight into her very soul. She made a move towards Steve, who held an oar in his hands and looked shocked to find her here but the tarp flung back.

Eddie charged Steve, jumping out of the boat and slamming Steve against the wall in an awful sound of a body hitting purely metal in the matter of seconds as everyone began to scream. Eddie had the jagged ends of his bottle against Steve's face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" shouted Dustin, hands out. "Eddie, Eddie, stop!"

Jean was already racing forward. "Eddie, stop! It's just Steve!"

"We don't fucking know if it's him, Jean," snapped Eddie, shaking his head and pressing the bottle in closer towards Steve's jugular. "This–this could just be another fucking mindless demon! We don't know if it's him, we don't know–"

"Eddie, it's me. It's Dustin. This is Steve," urged Dustin, waving his hands and getting the boy's attention. "He's not going to hurt you, right, Steve?"

Steve nodded, mindful of the broken bottle. "Right, yeah."

Jean touched Eddie's shoulder gently from behind him and the tension that had taken over his entire body released, slowly. She could feel the way he decompressed, like something unfolding in her palms.

"It's okay," she whispered to him, reaching forward slowly and taking the bottle in her hands. He released it into her grip and she tossed it aside, pulling him back until Steve was released and back on the balls of his feet. "I told you they'd find us, okay? They're here to help us."

"Eddie," said Dustin as his head snapped to glare at the others in the room. Jean hadn't even gotten the chance to see who'd come charging in. "You know Robin, from band." Robin pretended to play her trumpet. "And this is Max. The one who never wants to play D&D." Max waved. "And you know Lucy and Zoya, Jean's friends."

Jean felt her bottom lip begin to tremble. There they were, her two best friends. They stood beside Robin and Max and gave both Jean and Eddie little waves and forced smiles.

"They're on our side," she whispered to Eddie, squeezing his arm. "They're here to save us."

Steve met her eyes and reached out a hand to her. She left Eddie's side and was pulled into Steve's arms, something she never thought would be so comforting. He held the back of her head in one hand, the other wrapped tightly around her back. He rocked her gently and she let out the deep breath that had been building up in her chest.

"You're safe now," he murmured against her head before pulling back. "You both are."

She nodded and he wiped at the tears and dirt on her face. She wanted to force a smile but she couldn't, not even when she heard Lucy's soft voice murmured her name. Reunited at last, Jean was thrown into Lucy and Zoya's arms, all three girls fighting awful sobs.

Zoya rested her head against Jean's head and planted a fat kiss on her lips, choking out an awful laugh to say, "You look like shit, Jean Scott."

Jean could only laugh, wet and croaking.

Max met Jean's eyes over the two girls' shoulders. Jean hadn't expected her to be here, not with how she'd been withdrawing all year. Max reached a hand out towards Jean and the girl took it quickly.

"We...we want to know what happened," said Robin in a soft voice as Dustin approached Eddie who sagged against the wall. Robin was looking more at Jean than Eddie, knowing the girl knew more of the truth than Eddie, but they didn't know Jean had all but confessed everything to him.

Jean nodded, glancing back at Eddie who was rubbing his face and closed eyes with both hands. "Chrissy–she–" Her voice cracked, embarrassingly. Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head.

"Her body just, like, lifted up into the air," said Eddie, taking over in a strong voice and she nodded to him appreciatively when he looked at her. "She just, like, hung there. In the air. And her bones..." She could see the emotion taking over his face, the way his eyes looked more glassy than normal.

Jean took over in a weak voice. "Her bones started to snap." Zoya gripped her arm tighter and Lucy went completely still beside her.

"Her eyes," whispered Eddie, shaking his head. "It was–it was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling." He bowed his head. "I ran away. I...I left her there."

"We couldn't stay," murmured Jean quickly. Eddie didn't run, he wasn't the coward he was making himself out to be. They did what they had to. "We knew how it'd look but...but it wasn't normal, you guys. It wasn't some freak accident or–or some murderer coming in to kill us." Dustin's eyes met hers and she swallowed, thickly. "It was unlike anything we've ever seen but exactly the same, too."

"Does he...?" Dustin motioned to Eddie and Jean nodded.

"I told him everything I could."

"Told him what?" asked Zoya, her eyes dancing back and forth between the group. Her brows were furrowed, a dark look crossing over her face. "Does anyone else think this sounds like–like some crazy bullshit story? I'm sorry, Jean, but how can someone just–just lift into the air?"

"We know how this sounds," said Eddie, shaking his head again as he rubbed his eyes. "It–it sounds fucking crazy, man, but–but it happened."

"We believe you," said Robin as Max nodded and added, "We do."

"This is crazy!" cried Zoya, shaking her head. "Chrissy didn't just levitate and–and get killed by some invisible freak inside of her, okay?! That's impossible." She looked at Lucy but the tears in her eyes told a different story. There was recognition, there was truth, there was belief. "It's impossible," repeated Zoya, sternly but Lucy shook her head.

"I...I believe them."

"Wha–?!"

"Listen," said Dustin, standing from his crouch to face the girls, "what I'm going to tell you is going to be...going to be a little difficult to take."

Zoya shook her head, a glare ready and aimed at everyone in the room. Jean could see the beginnings of her rage trying to spill free, her nose scrunching with her bunched up mouth.

"You know how people say Hawkins is...cursed?" said Dustin and Zoya gave him a narrowed glare but nodded. She'd taken a step back and away from Lucy and Jean, her body angled towards the group like she was ready to take off running at any second. "They're not way off. There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins."

Jean could tell Zoya had a scoff at the ready.

"Sometimes it bleeds into ours," continued Dustin. Eddie's eyes met hers when she glanced back at her huddled together friends.

"And it's not like ghosts and shit," said her partner in crime.

Max nodded, her face scarily illuminated by her flashlight. "There are things worse than ghosts."

"These monsters from this other world..." Dustin shook his head, looking grave. "...we thought they were gone. But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you both."

"If they're back again," said Max, "we need to know."

Jean nodded, firmly. "And they are." Zoya was shaking her head, taking another step back from the group but Jean couldn't focus on that right now. She looked at Dustin. "The lights flickered but there weren't any...any dark particles," Max nodded and gave Jean clarification that she was using the right terms, "and there wasn't any–anything that looked like dust. It was like something had taken her over."

Eddie nodded, his eyes blank as he thought over what he'd seen. His skin looked far more pale than normal. "It was nothing you could see or, uh, touch." He met Jean's eyes and she let out a shuddering breath. "It was like she was in a trance."

"Or under a spell," offered Dustin.

Eddie met his eyes. "A curse."

"Vecna's curse," breathed Dustin in a spark of clarity, speaking in terms everyone could understand.

(or mostly everyone)

"Who's Vecna?" asked Steve.

Fear had taken place like a mask on Dustin's face. "An undead creature of great power."

"A spellcaster," said Eddie.

"A dark wizard," said Dustin.

"What the–what the fuck?!" snarled Zoya so loudly it startled everyone in the room, their heads snapping towards her out cry as even Jean flinched. "What the fuck are you even talking about?!"

Lucy blinked, registering slowly as Jean held out both her hands to try to persuade the girl to calm down. "Z, please," said Jean, taking a hesitant step forward, "I know it's hard to understand–"

"Hard to understand?" she hissed. "Hard to understand?! You're talking about fucking monsters, Jean! You're talking about a whole other world underneath our own! Do you get how crazy that sounds? Do you get that?"

"Chrissy is dead," breathed Lucy as tears streaked down her cheeks. "Chrissy is dead and this thing killed her. Jean saw it, Eddie saw it, our friends have all seen what this other–other world has done."

"And she–" Zoya pointed at Jean. "–knew the entire fucking time and didn't tell us shit! And now look what's happened! Chrissy is dead and Jean knew."

"I couldn't tell you," whispered Jean, shaking her head. Her friend was shaking, anger and agony taking over her entire body. She was not one to hide from her feelings, she would speak them rather than show them but this was everything at once. Terror in her eyes, rage shaking her body, sorrow dripping from her lashes. "It was too dangerous."

"You didn't tell us," hissed Zoya, "and now Chrissy is dead."

"It's not her fault," urged Lucy. "None of this is Jean's fault, Zoya, and you know it. Everything Dustin just told us, don't pretend you didn't have your own suspicions." Lucy glanced at Jean. "It was hard to believe you got those stitches from glass exploding at the mall, Jean. We're your friends and we love you, but we're not idiots." Lucy turned back towards Zoya who was closer to the door than she had been seconds before. Jean noticed how some of her long nails had been picked away on her left hand, all from anxiety. "We all knew something was wrong with Billy all summer, we knew the fire wasn't really a fire at the mall, and we knew Jean was hiding things from us but so was Chrissy!"

Trips to the bathroom. Telling them to wait outside, she'd be done in a second.

"Vecna," said Dustin in a strong voice, "killed Chrissy and it's up to us to stop him."

"You can be mad all you want," added Jean, feeling her heart beating up in her throat like a throb, "but only after Vecna's dead."

"Vecna," spat Zoya, shaking her head. "This is all your fucking D&D crap."

Eddie squeaked out an appalled, "Hey!"

"How can all of you just–just believe all this?" whispered the broken girl, finally frozen against the door. "How can there be another–another–another–" Her eyes glanced to the floor and for a moment, Jean thought she would pass out but, instead, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Jean had never seen her openly weep before. Tears from laughter, yet, but never from true sadness. Zoya was always the one to bottle it up, to look towards the bright side but for the first time in her life, Jean didn't think Zoya could look towards that. "H–how can any of this be–be real?"

"It's like all those ghost stories we'd tell, remember?" murmured Jean, hoping on everything that the girl would finally look her in the eyes. "When we'd roast marshmallows at Heather's house? We'd tell those stories until we'd be terrified of sitting with our backs to the dark but they weren't real, not really, but we believed them anyway."

"It's not the same," croaked Zoya.

"We believed in those ghost stories," said Jean, "and they became real to us. This...this is like that, kinda. I know you're mad at me for not telling you but if I told you, it'd be real for you, too."

How could Jean tell her until she finally understood? All she'd been doing was trying to protect her friends, to keep them out of the madness and the fear for as long as she could. They didn't need to feel scared alone in their beds at night. They didn't need to be terrified of the faces of their dead friends. They didn't need to look over their shoulders, even during the daytime.

She hadn't wanted them to be scared for their entire lives the way she had been.

Billy sawing. Billy slicing and cutting. Billy closing his fist around her neck. Billy bleeding.

"We have to stop him," whispered Lucy, her hair pulled back and away from her face in a bun. Strands of loose hair framed her face and, for a second, she looked older than she did. "If we're the only ones who know about him, then we're the only ones who can stop him."

For a moment, Jean thought Zoya would open the door and bolt but the girl held her ground. Her eyes finally found Jean's through the darkness and she nodded. She nodded and stepped forward, her body still shaking from nerves.

"But how do we even stop an invisible, uh, dark wizard?" asked Robin.

Dustin smiled and crossed his arms. "Leave that to me."

(it turns out he did not, in fact, have a plan like he said he would the next morning)

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━hi yes im back <33 

giving u a dif perspective this time around, will probably keep giving u lucy moments/zoya ones bc i love my girls too much and i dont want them to b sidelined so pls let me know ur thoughts eee

also....r we getting vibes from zoya and steve or is that just me....

also some memes to make yall laugh <33 

zoya when those children tried to tell her about the upside down/vecna:

jean/eddie this entire chap:

pls pls pls vote/comment <33 i'd appreciate it sm!!! 

ily xxx smooches to all of u