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007

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I don't wanna live
I don't wanna give you nothing
'cause you never give me nothing back

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. The house was too obvious a place to stay in, declared Dustin the night before. They retrieved their belongings and slept in the boat, under the tarp, and coiled around one another little hibernating bears or snakes. She had curled herself so deeply against him that she wasn't sure who's hair was in her mouth by the time she woke up.

The lake rocked against the boathouse, the door open and exposing them to the outside world. They would have drawn the door down but there was something so peaceful about looking out into the dark water the night before, finally at home with her friends.

If only Zoya didn't hate her guts, then maybe it would've been a wonderful moment to share with friends.

Lucy and Zoya left when the rest of them did, explaining that they'd be back in the morning with food and a change of clothes (thank god). Jean could've gone home but Steve and Dustin disagreed strongly. They didn't know if the police released her name as a suspect yet, they didn't know what the police had found alongside Chrissy's body in the trailer. There was a good chance Jean could be a suspected murderer by the time morning came and there would be nothing to do about it.

Jean curled herself further against Eddie and he kept a protective arm around her. It was still cold here at night, no matter how closely they crawled towards summer. He smelled like leather, like old clothes and mothballs with the soft scent of forest and weed. His cologne was some cheap shit he loved and it was musky, like the woods and cedar but the weed couldn't be covered that easily. He always smelled like it, somewhat.

He ran his free hand over her back as he kept it circled around her. It was so soothing, almost like it was normal. As if they were back at home in his shitty bedroom with the shitty lights but they'd never get back there (would they?).

"Are you awake?" he asked in a whisper and she nodded against him. "Why'd he hug you like that?"

"Who?" she mumbled against the pocket of his jacket.

"Steve. Last night."

She pressed herself against him, burying her face as she stretched her legs. "We're–" She let out a yawn. "–friends."

He shifted slightly and sounded strained, "Friends don't hug each other like that, Jeanie."

"Like what?" she shifted again, pressing her arm into his chest so she could sit up and face him. He was staring up at the ceiling, the way the metal curved against the roof and she glared. "Like what, Eddie?"

"Like you've been fucking him, I don't know."

She dug her elbow into him this time, pressing it deeply into his ribs. "Say that again?"

"I didn't like the way he had his hands on you, okay!"

She didn't like that she was waking up annoyed, after being so curled deeply into his warmth but here she was. Warmth (and not the good kind) blazed her cheeks and neck. "How dare you." She slapped his chest with her other hand, awkwardly laying on him as she still tried to dig her elbow between ribs. "I don't sleep with everybody who breathes, you fuck-face!"

"That's–" He was trying to catch her swatting hand. "–not what–" He tried to move away from her elbow but he was trapped between her and the boat. "–I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" she breathed into his face.

"You were," he swallowed thickly, "too close. I didn't–uh–like how possessive he was of you."

"You're talking about Steve."

He nodded.

"Steve Harrington."

"Yes."

"Why would I," she pointed to herself, done with hitting him, "be sleeping with Steve fucking Harrington?"

"I–I don't know!"

"That's right," she said coldly, pushing herself up into a sitting position beside him in the tiny boat, "you don't know."

He ran a hand down his face, groaning. "Why is this killin' you right now? It was just an observation–"

"A stupid one."

He grabbed her wrist before she could escape the boat altogether. "Jeanie, come on, you know I've never liked the guy."

"Something of which I can never understand–"

"And he had his hands on you," Eddie's face was contorting, trying to find the right words, "and his eyes were on you the entire time they were here. Did you not notice it? The way they fuckin' followed you everywhere?"

"Steve looks at anything with a skirt like that, Eds."

"Doesn't mean he should be looking at you like that."

"Eddie, like what?!"

"Like he wants to fuck you!" he cried out, his brows furrowed so deeply his eyes were narrowed into pits of darkness. "Like he wants to–to kiss you or some shit!"

"Oh my god," she breathed, burying her head in both hands. He'd never acted this way about Steve before, at least not this verbally. He'd been skeptical about their relationship (her and Steve), but Steve had been a rock to her after the fire and he'd accepted it but it turns out, he didn't accept it as much as Jean had thought. It dawned on her, as she groaned into her hand from embarrassment, that Eddie was acting the way she had when they'd met with Chrissy in the woods. "You're jealous."

"No, I am not."

Jean glared at him. "You so are."

"I am not jealous of Steve Harrington," he spat, moving her as he sat up. The boat rocked slightly from how it was being jostled as they fumbled and she swayed with the movement. "He's a total douche."

"A douche you think has slept with me."

Couldn't he see what was right before his very eyes? What she'd been feeling for him for so long? Instead, he was making assumptions, thinking she was sleeping with Steve when that was never nor will it ever be the case. Steve was like a brother, a really annoying brother but a brother nonetheless. He knew it, she knew it, there would never be something there besides a fierce protectiveness and irritation for the other.

"I can't believe you," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Come on," breathed Eddie, "can't you see how it looks?"

"No!"

She did know, of course. She was just frustrated like anyone would be in the situation. The boy she admired (loved) thought she was fooling around with some guy (her good friend Steve). If anything, she would've thought Zoya was the better option for her to sleep with or even date. It made the most sense but Eddie was jealous, even though he would never admit to it.

Jealousy clouded the mind far easier than Jean ever liked.

"He's been all over her," whispered Jean, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared at them down the hall. Leaning against the lockers, the girl's fingers working a tangle out of his hair, Jean could've torn her fingers off one by one if she were a violent person.

"You know," muttered Zoya, "if you keep staring like this, you'll burn a hole through the back of Victoria's head."

"Maybe that's what she wants," said Lucy with a shrug. "With her gone, she'll finally stop grinding her teeth."

Zoya narrowed her eyes, not at Lucy but towards Jean. "Do you see what you're doing? You're turning poor Luce to violence!"

Jean kept her arms crossed, her foot threatening to tap against the tile. There was no reason to feel this insufferable amount of jealousy, there was no reason at all besides the need to suddenly bite Victoria's head off with only her teeth.

"She's only trying to score, Jean," said Zoya with a deep sigh. Usually it was Z who was succumbing to violence and threats, not Jean. It was never Jean who wanted to rip hair and pull teeth and skin...oh god, she was a violent person. "Let her dial it up for him because you and I both know he's getting a kick out of this."

"He's smiling at her," said Jean. "Does he not remember what she did to us freshman year? Is he just forgetting what–what a bitch she is?"

"He's using her," said Zoya, trying to reassure the other girl before she started chewing at the ends of her hair. "She's got daddy's money bursting in both of her pockets. He's going to wring her out for every penny."

Lucy began to smile. "Want to bet it's gonna be a fifty?"

"I'd wager a hundred," came Chrissy's voice as she approached the group and her locket. They'd been waiting for her so they could all head to the cafeteria together. "Tori's desperate. Heard her whine about it in class this morning."

"How desperate we talkin' here?" asked Zoya.

Chrissy opened her locker and dumped her books inside as she hummed under her breath in pretend thought. "I'd say...desperate enough that she'd invite him over to her place...alone."

Jean's breath caught in her throat so violently she choked and began to cough. She clutched her chest, wheezing as she swallowed over and over again to get the feeling out of her throat. It caught Eddie's attention down the hall and she had to look away, red faced and panting.

She stuck her face in Chrissy's locker to breathe deeply, rubbing her face with both hands. There was no reason to act like this, they would never be together, they would never work––

"Knock, knock," came a soft voice from the door and Jean tumbled out of the boat and as far from Eddie as she could muster. Lucy, with her long hair pulled back with a bow, opened the door and stepped inside their cold bed chamber. "I brought you a change of clothes, Jean, and some food."

Jean took the small bag from Lucy and crouched down to sift through the contents as she asked, "Where's Zoya?"

Lucy crossed her arms. "Off to find Jason. The news about Chrissy...it's spreading. He was probably told yesterday like the rest of us and...and we're sure Jason's going to start something."

"Is she...mad?" asked Jean. Screw Jason and whatever crusade he was probably starting. All she wanted to know was if Zoya was mad at her. She held up a pair of jeans and wondered how Lucy had all of these. They were Jean's clothes. "I know yesterday was a lot and...and I know what it's like for that anger to come back post hang out."

"It was a lot to take in."

"But you took it."

"Yeah, because I'm not a moron–and I'm not saying Zoya is–to have not noticed the crazy stuff going on in this town," said Lucy. Eddie approached slowly, hands in his pockets. "The summer, Jeanie...you were different. Everything with Heather, the, uh, panic attacks, it wasn't hard not to notice. Z, she was too focused on Billy's death, on Heather's death, on the poor police officer who disappeared."

Jean sighed. "She was drunk for most of the summer."

"And well into this school year."

"The fall wasn't kind to her."

"And it wasn't to you either, Jeanie." Lucy bent down to take Jean's hand and pull out a peach colored shirt. "These were all I could find, you left some stuff at mine when you stayed the night last weekend."

"I puked on this shirt," muttered Jean, holding it up.

"Yeah," said Lucy, "and then it shrunk in my washer." She stood back up and handed Eddie a granola bar in the process. "That's why I also brought you this totally lowkey jacket. Nothing fancy and nothing–" She poked Jean's cheer jacket. "–flashy like this. So, strip and give me your duffle. I'll take all this and Chrissy's bag to hide at my house."

"You sure?" asked Jean, peeling the jacket off of her stiff arms. "Don't your parents have, like, a cleaner come by?"

"They never check under the beds," said Lucy with a wink. "And I've seen my fair share of teen television shows to know the best hiding places."

"The vents, right?" added Eddie and Lucy gave him a long look.

"I was going to say the trunk of Zoya's car but yeah, the vents, too."

Jean pulled her cheer uniform off and ignored the way she felt Eddie's eyes on her. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd seen her like this. He'd seen her in bathing suits, throwing up in his bathroom half naked after a party, this wasn't new to him. But still, she felt his eyes and a blush crept up her neck as she pulled on the jeans and then the peach colored shirt she hated so much.

The jacket Lucy got her was an old jean jacket with pins from years before. It hadn't been worn since then, Jean was sure. On the tag was Lucy's father's name in old ink.

"You sure he won't miss this?" asked Jean as she put it on.

"It's been in a box for years. The only thing that'll miss it are the moths and dust mites."

Jean stuffed her feet back into her tennis shoes, tying them tightly as Eddie ate quietly. But Jean was not a quiet person. "Where are the others?"

"Meeting with Nancy Wheeler," said Lucy. "She went to the crime, uh, Eddie's place and tried to talk with the police. She learned something about some family, I think. But you remember Fred Benson, right? He's, like, a year younger than us and works with Nance on the newspaper?" Both nodded. "He...he was killed last night. Same way as Chrissy. Nancy...she tried to find him but the police did later. Dead. Middle of the road. I'm going to meet Nance and them now, see what else they know."

"What are we supposed to do until then?" asked Eddie, wiping crumbs from his shirt as Jean sat dumbstruck. They hadn't known Fred well, but still, a death was a death. It hurt all the same. Eddie continued to scowl. "Are we just gonna sit on our asses and hope Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington come save the day?"

"Yeah," said Jean, her brows pulling up. "What about my parents? What are we supposed to do here while you guys get to have fun and play detective?"

Lucy held up her hands. "Hey, I'm just the messenger. Steve didn't even want me bringing you clothes and food, okay. I'm here because I love you and need you both to stay out of sight until we can get back here."

"Make sure Dustin doesn't do anything stupid," whispered Jean as Lucy grabbed the cheer uniform and the duffles. "Or Max."

"Trust me," murmured Lucy as she hugged her friend, "they're going to do something reckless anyways, doesn't matter whether or not I tell them not to."

(and that certainly didn't make Jean feel any better.)

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𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆, parking her car by Max's house where the others had theirs. Nancy Wheeler sat surrounded by the little group she'd been with the night prior, minus Zoya. There wasn't much about the Wheeler girl Lucy knew besides she worked for the paper, had dated Steve and was now dating Jonathan Byers, and was no longer the prissy quiet princess she'd known the years prior. But, of course, Lucy couldn't judge. She'd been the same way not too long ago.

"Glad to see you finally decided to show up," said Steve, turning on the bench to watch her approach.

Lucy narrowed her eyes. How could anyone, especially Jeanie, stand him? "Just got back from visiting the fugitives."

Nancy's eyes lit up. "And how are they?"

"Stir crazy." She took a seat beside Max. "Zoya went off to keep Jason and his crew of idiots at bay as much as she can. Lucas should be with them."

Dustin nodded, rubbing his chin. "He can help Zoya with being our inside man. As long as we know where Jason is, we shouldn't have to fear any...retaliation."

Robin frowned. "You really think he'll come for Eddie?"

Lucy spoke first, nodding, "Without a doubt. He's had a vendetta against Eddie for, like, ever. Now that Eddie's prime suspect numero uno, I don't doubt that Jason will go full detective on his ass."

Lucy never used to cuss but somehow something had shifted in her (a.k.a. the events of the past few days). She took a moment to glance around. The gazebo they sat under wasn't too far away from the Munson's trailer, or far from Jean's parents. There was yellow caution tape blocking off the Munson trailer and front yard, but that wouldn't stop anyone if they really wanted to go inside. Which, strangely, Lucy did. She wanted to creep inside and see where it had happened, to somehow understand the horrors that had occurred.

She'd never seen tragedy like that, she'd never experienced anything to that extent. Her life had been, up until this moment now, soft and quiet. The crushes she'd had, the bruises she'd gotten falling from swings or from bikes, nothing amounted to the pain in her chest now looking at the trailer in which her best friend died.

No, the trailer in which her best friend was murdered in.

It wasn't an accident. It was intentional on Chrissy's part, either. It was a murder. It was a crime.

"We were just fillin' Nancy in on what Jean and Eddie told us last night," said Dustin, working Lucy into the conversation. "And how it's from the Upside Down, with our working theory being that he attacks with a spell or a curse. Now, whether or not he's doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, well, we don't know."

Max nodded. "All we know for sure is that it's something different. Something new."

Lucy frowned. "The Mind Flayer...that's what killed our classmates last year, wasn't it?"

Robin gave her a long look, the longest look in history to that matter, and sighed. "We forget how much you don't know. That–that this is all new to you, too."

"Not to change the subject, sorry Luce I'll fill you in as much as I can, but there's something I just don't get," said Nancy, shaking her head. "Why them? Why Fred and Chrissy? What could they have possibly had in common?"

She was right, of course. What could've linked the two together? Chrissy, head cheerleader and most popular girl in school, and sweet Fred, who worked in the newspaper club and was an aspiring journalist?

"Maybe they were just in the wrong place, wrong time?" said Dustin. "Were both at the game."

"And near the trailer park," added Max.

"We're at the trailer park," said Steve, glancing around with caution. "Should we, uh, maybe not be here?"

The wind blew by, rusting the grass, leaves, and then their hair. Nancy frowned, as if in a trance. "There is something off about this place. Fred started acting weird the second we got here."

Robin leaned closer."Acting weird as in...?"

"Scared," said Nancy, shaking her head, "on edge, upset."

"Max said Chrissy was upset too," Dustin said quickly, like they were suddenly figuring it all out but Lucy wasn't convinced. It wasn't this place, she didn't think. It wasn't the trailer park luring people in and making their bones break from some cruel force inside.

"Yeah, but not here," said Max. "She was crying in the bathroom at school."

Lucy hated how she didn't know, but hadn't she? She and Chrissy had talked about the pressure her mom was putting on her. Lucy was aware of the anxiety she was under, but she didn't know about the crying at school. Did Jean know? Did she notice and not do anything, too?

"Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?" said Robin. "So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman–"

"Vecna," corrected Dustin and Robin made a face at him.

"Dunno about you guys," said Steve, scratching his head, "but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone."

Lucy stared down at the table, wishing her hair was in her face to shield the pink coming to her cheeks as she murmured, "Chrissy never told us anything...she didn't say anything except to Jean..."

"What'd she say to Jeanie?" asked Dustin.

"That she needed something to help her sleep," said Lucy, her head still down. "It was why Chrissy was with Eddie and her that night, to smoke something to help get her a few hours of sleep. She'd been...having nightmares." She looked up and quickly asked, "Do we know if Fred was having them? If he was talking to anyone? Chrissy was seeing the counselor, I know that, but Fred..."

Max snapped her fingers, something dawning on her. "I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley's office. If you saw a monster, you...you wouldn't go to the police. They'd never believe you. But you might go to your–"

"Shrink," finished Robin, the light bulbs in everyone's heads going off at once.

Lucy wiped her sweaty palms onto her jeans, finding the courage to speak up about a different issue. "I don't think any of this was random. I...I really do believe they were both targeted for something specific. Maybe not a certain event that's happened to both of them but something...deep inside. If we have a chance of getting into Ms. Kelley's office, we should do it now."

"I think you're right," said Nancy and that reaffirmation made something spark happily in Lucy's chest. "We should head to the school, see if we can get in and find anything."

As they stood to leave, Lucy noticed Nancy begin to head in the direction of her car across the lot, deviating from the group. Steve noticed immediately, as he does with everything she does, and shouted, "Whoa, Nance. Nance! Where are you going?"

Nancy turned, forcing a smile to her face as she pointed to her car, "Oh, there's just something I want to check on first."

Dustin threw his hands out. "Something you wanna share with the rest of us?"

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, shuffling her feet. "I don't wanna waste your time. Real shot in the dark."

"I doubt that," said Lucy, pushing away from where she'd been resting against her car. "Don't your leads usually mean something?"

"No, no, no, don't go giving her any reason to do this," said Steve, shaking his hands between the girls. "Are you out of your mind? Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose? No, nope, it's too dangerous, okay? You need...you need someone to go with you." He turned, throwing the keys at Robin. "I'll go with Nance, you all go check out the shrink."

Lucy frowned, shaking her head. "Robin doesn't have her license, dumbass." She didn't mean for that to come out, because she barely even knew Robin personally (oh god, please don't let Robin think she's a creep, please, please).

"Why don't you have a license?"

"I'm poor," said Robin, glaring.

"I can drive!" said Max which earned a snapping, "No, never again," from Steve. Even Dustin was trying to get in on it, pushing Steven's buttons when Lucy finally sighed.

"We'll go with Nancy, you three go to the school," she snapped, taking the keys from Robin's hands and throwing them back at Steve. "Or do you need one of us to be a supervisor, Harrington?"

"Yeah, unless you think we need you to protect us," said Robin, grabbing the walkie-talkie from Dustin's bag.

As Lucy stood with Nancy and Robin, she couldn't help but feel the urge to change her mind and go running back to the car with Steve. She'd told Jean she'd look after Max and Dustin and here she was, separating herself from them.

You'll be with them later, she reminded herself. You'll stick with them like glue after this.

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𝐙𝐎𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 the smell of vomit and cheap beer in the back of Jason's car. She sat completely still, avoiding the touch of Patrick as much as she could. She always felt nervous around him, but she would never admit that to anymore. Not even the girls. There was just something so unsuspecting about him that made her freeze up. She didn't like not knowing what other people thought, she didn't like when she couldn't read someone.

It's one of the reasons Jean's confession made her feel so sick inside.

She'd never suspected a thing, not really. She'd avoided it, turned her head, and closed her eyes. She put her fingers in her ears and said 'la, la, la' to ignore all the bad things going around her because she had enough bad things going around inside of her to notice. She couldn't take on the world's baggage on top of her own.

She'd had Lucy drop her off with them at the party house and now, sitting squished against Andy to avoid sweet Patrick, she'd wished she had gone with her better half. Or at least stayed with Jean at the boat house.

Nope, nope. Not with Jean. She was still mad at Jean. Well, not mad exactly, but pissed. Or...or just upset. She wasn't sure, she was well aware they were all synonyms of mad but they didn't hold the same meaning to her.

How could Jean keep all this from her? They were best friends, they told each other everything. Zoya had noticed the shift in her friend after the mall fire (god fucking dammit it wasn't a fire) and she thought she just needed space. It was traumatic, she understood that, but she didn't think it was anything more than that. Not a thought crossed her mind that it'd be some mythical monster named after a Dungeons & Dragons character or that it would've been the thing behind all the recent deaths.

Thinking about Billy made her sick, more sick than when thinking about Jean's confession. Billy, her first love (disgusting, she knows, but her second love was Kate Bush, so...she was making up for it okay), had succumbed to a fate not even Zoya would wish upon her mortal enemies and trust her, she would've if she didn't know what she did now. But Zoya liked to think she was becoming a better person now that she did know the truth, that she'd be more attentive to the things around her but she really ought to have known better.

Once an avoidant, once an angry person, she would always be that. There was no denying that.

She was an angry person and that anger led her to avoid people but she didn't want to avoid Jean and nor did she want to avoid Lucy, so why the hell was she stuck in the back seat between Andy and Patrick?

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she murmured, glaring at Andy when his leg brushed hers. "They're good people, they wouldn't be a part of any of this bullshit."

Jason shook his head. "They'll know where he is."

"And, I'll repeat myself again, Carver," snapped Zoya, "Munson didn't do shit. You and I both know he could never hurt anyone–"

"Chrissy was found in his place, man!" said Jason, voice rising and Zoya could see his hands tightening against the steering wheel. "You don't think it's weird how he just vanished, after she was–she was found in his place?"

"Jean's been missing too," said Zoya. "Do you think he killed her too?"

Jason's expression softened from what she could tell in the mirror. Lucas, who was sitting in the passenger seat, squirmed. When she'd arrived at the party house, confirming what Jason had been told by the cops, Lucas had turned quiet. He knew what all this meant.

"God, you really think she could be dead?" said Jason, shaking his head. There was disbelief in his voice and the hints of something more, like fear. "She–she can't be. Her and Chrissy gone–" His voice shook and he had to clear his throat to speak normally again. "That's why we gotta talk to these metalhead assholes, see if we can find Munson."

"For all we know," said Andy, "Munson could have Jeanie tied up somewhere, ready for the devil bait."

Zoya scoffed, shaking her head and crossing her arms in an attempt to bite her tongue but bite no longer. "You and I both know Eddie Munson has never done anything wrong to you besides be different. So what, he doesn't do basketball? Doesn't make him a serial killer devil worshiper."

"Chrissy is dead," said Andy, emphasizing his words. "Dead in his trailer. He was nowhere to be found and there were witness reports of him driving away from the scene–"

"Speculation."

"–and who could've hurt her like that, Z? She didn't do that shit to herself."

Zoya wished she could grip all the boys by the shoulders and scream it into their faces. Yes, Chrissy never could've hurt herself the way that she did but no one could've done that to her themselves either. No one human would be capable enough to harm someone to that extent. To that level of violence.

Jean said her bones had broken, snapped from the inside like some force had taken its old on her. Nothing human, nothing with a soul, could inflict that pain. Not on someone like Chrissy. Not their angel girl.

"You know," whispered Chrissy as Zoya tied the bow in her hair, "they're all gonna be there tonight, down at the bonfire."

Zoya stood behind her, meeting her friend's eyes in the vanity. "I told you, Chris, I'm done with boys."

"Okay, yes, I totally support you because the boys suck but," said Chrissy, eyes gleaming, "Jason said Billy's gonna be there."

Billy Hargrove. Zoya's Billy. He was an asshole but he was hot, and that hotness blinded her of the red flags that should've warded her off. Zoya can admit now, she'd been stupid. He'd been rough with her a few times and yes, she got out, and yes, she was no longer tied down by him in any way or form, but there was still a sick part of her that wanted to see him.

"Yeah, well, Billy can rot."

"It's summer!" said Chrissy. "Shouldn't you at least go and show off all that he's missing? Shove it in his face?"

Zoya grinned. "Chrissy Cunningham, are you saying you condone violence?"

"Against Billy?" she said, pretending to think it over before nodding. "Yes. Always. A kick to his you-know-what is better than pom poms to the face!"

The car slowed to a stop at the top of the driveway and Zoya frowned, leaning past Patrick to see where they were. Immediately, once the car turned off, she could hear the music. Frowning as the boys got out, she quickly followed and snapped, quite loudly, "Why the fuck would you think Eddie would be here if he was a 'wanted criminal.'"

"Because these cult freaks will know where to find him," said Andy, stuffing his hands in his jacket. "Now, you comin' or what, Z? Eddie's got Jean and the only way to find her is to find him."

They walked down the driveway towards the open garage where the music was coming from and as they neared the playing slowly began to cease. Zoya felt completely out of place. She didn't belong here, she'd never even been to a Corroded Coffin concert or practice, not like Jean who would get behind the drums and throw out a couple off-beat hits. Zoya was not Jean Scott but Zoya was barely even Zoya Uma on good days.

"You're a little early fellas," said Gareth as they approached. The boy was shorter than Zoya and came out from behind the drums to speak to them directly. "The show's not until next week."

Andy scowled, pointing. "So that was music you were playing?"

Jason stepped forward, leaving Zoya to stand protectively close to Lucas. "We're looking for Eddie Munson. He's in this band, if that's what you can even call this."

"What do you care?" asked Gareth.

"That's our business."

Gareth frowned but his eyes flickered to the boy standing behind the tyrant. "Lucas?" His voice was filled with recognition and then confusion. "What are you doing with these douchebags?"

Accusation poisoned Jason's tongue as he turned. "You know these freaks, Sinclair?"

Lucas glanced around, his chest rising and falling quickly. Zoya could even make out a sheen of sweat smoothing across his face before he finally spoke. "Uh, they know my sister. They tried to recruit me to their..."

"Club," finished Zoya sternly, wishing she could glare right into Lucas's face because she knew what he was going to say. Cult. Cult. Cult. "They tried to recruit him to their club. They were looking for members at the beginning of the year when we got back from break..."

Jeff's eyes went wide, the guitar slung over his back making him look almost like a warrior. Even with his braces. "Lucas, what the hell?"

"We're just trying to find Eddie, man," urged Lucas.

Gareth glared. "Well, you have eyes, don't you? He's not here."

It happened in an instant. One second everything was normal, calm, and the next Jason was throwing a punch at Gareth and Andy and Patrick were racing forward to restrain the other two members of the band. Jason too Gareth by the shoulders, shaking him as if that would change anything. Zoya knew violence was not always the answer, even if it was the easiest thing to fall into.

"Where is he?!" cried Jason as Gareth said, "I don't know," begging the basketball captain to listen to him. They screamed at it each other three more times before Jason sent a fist into Gareth's stomach, doubling him over and to his knees.

"Hey, let him go, man!" shouted Jeff as Andy forced him to his knees. "Let him go!"

"Jason!" shrieked Zoya as Gareth fell back into the drum kit and sent it crashing around the garage. "Jason! Jesus, let him fucking go!"

There was no stopping an angry man. Zoya knew that. There was nothing to stop or quench the rage that flowed and ebbed and begged to be free. She could see it so plainly, the madness taking over Jason and the rest of the team as they performed their own version of a witch hunt on a boy they all knew, deep down, was innocent. Dungeons & Dragons didn't birth serial killers or crazed violent assholes. It was an outlet for people to be themselves, to dive into fantasy. It wasn't a cult, it wasn't...

Jason stood over the boy, pressing his foot against Gareth's fingers and shouting, "It's gonna be hard to play those drums with a broken hand!"

Gareth grunted before snapping out, "Dustin!"

"What?"

"Dustin Henderson! Dustin Henderson!" Gareth said and Zoya's eyes went wide. "He was...he was calling around looking for Eddie! Maybe he found him!" He tried to thrash around. "Please, please, just stop!"

"See?" snarled Jason. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Now...where do we find this 'Dustin?'"

God, they were fucked.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓," said Robin as they walked up the steps towards the public library. "Eddie's uncle, Wayne, thinks that Victor Creel escaped from Pennhurst Asylum and that he's the one running around Hawkins committing these murders?"

Nancy had described it the best she could in the car but Lucy still wasn't entirely convinced. And the look Nancy they gave said enough of what they all truly believed as she said, "Pretty much."

"Okay, but," said Lucy, hurrying to keep up with their quick pace, "didn't Creel commit his murders in the 50s?"

"The eyeball murders," said Robin, nodding.

"Well, it was 59'," said Nancy as they opened the doors.

Lucy was grateful to be hit by a blast of air conditioning. She hadn't realized she'd been sweating so much until now. Running back and forth between Jean and Dustin, and now scampering behind Robin and Nancy, it wore her out.

"So, that means these murders predate Eleven in the Upside Down by about thirty years?" said Robin.

"And Eleven is the kid's little friend with the magic powers, right?" said Lucy. "The telekinesis stuff?"

Nancy repeated herself from earlier. "Pretty much."

"Okay, but this all makes spooky Victor Creel, like, seventy years old," said Robin.

"Yep."

Lucy was out of her element. As Nancy rang the bell at the front desk, Lucy took a moment to breathe. She'd found out so much unpleasant news in the last twenty-four hours that it made her sick to even think about it for longer than a minute. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours, maybe just twelve, since she'd found Jean and heard her speak about Chrissy.

Chrissy's name even in her head made her queasy. She didn't think they'd ever have the chance to properly mourn, not together as a town or as a friend group. They'd mourned Heather, brought flowers to her grave and even had their own personal memorial down by the lake where they'd sent balloons into the air and old paper boats down into the water which they set ablaze with Zoya's lighter collection.

"Here lies Heather Holloway," whispered Jean, holding onto Zoya and Chrissy's hands as Lucy held Zoya's tightly, "sister, daughter, cheerleader, okay-ish lifeguard..."

"Princess," murmured Chrissy as the current took their boats and the flames caught the polaroids they'd copied, "and big time romantic..."

"Knight," corrected Zoya and Chrissy smiled. "Brainiac, flip cup champion..."

Lucy gripped Zoya's hand tightly. "And beloved best friend who always liked to steal the last pieces of candy from the box or the last shot in a cup."

Heather with her kind smile and soft eyes. Heather with her almost always perfect hair. Heather with the soft skin and delicate eyelashes...Lucy would never not see her in all things beautiful. But now...

They would never mourn Chrissy.

"So, he's a grandpa murderer who can turn invisible and lift people into the air," said Robin, leaning her elbow on the counter to rest her head in her hand. Her eyes got wide for a second and looked over at Lucy, her cheeks flushed. "I–I don't mean that in any disrespectful way of course. I know...I know you were friends with Chrissy..."

Lucy crossed her arms and looked away to keep from crying. She didn't like thinking about her friend, she didn't like thinking about any of them they'd lost but it was too fresh to ignore.

"All of this, it's a shot in the dark, really," reassured Nancy, hitting the bell again.

"I know," said Robin, "but when you said 'shot in the dark' I thought you were just being modest or hiding something super solid up your sleeve that you were gonna wow us with later. But this is really, truly a shot in the dark. We are snipers with blindfolds who've been spun around fifty times."

"Even if it doesn't end up anything, we can still lie to Steve," muttered Lucy. "We don't have to tell him it was a bust, but I still don't think it will be."

Nancy rang the bell again, then an additional three or four times until a little woman came out from the back, carrying a small stack of books in her hand.

"Hi. Sorry. We're in a bit of a rush," said Nancy. "Can we get the keys to the basement archives?"

The woman smiled warmly and said before walking off, "Yeah, of course. Give me one second."

It was only a fraction of a second later when Robin exclaimed, "Did I come off mean or condescending or something?"

"No," said Nancy, quick to respond.

"It's just, you seem annoyed..."

Lucy, as much as she loved being around Robin, did not like suddenly feeling like a third wheel to their adventure. She was the odd one out, she didn't have the experience or the history with the Upside Down to grasp the importance of what was happening but she liked to think that she did. But the obvious way Robin kept staring at Nancy was making Lucy want to puke, too.

Did either girl understand the severity, though? Lucy could, that part she could understand better than anything. Her best friend was murdered and they were just standing around waiting for the basement archives which could or could not give them anything useful.

Lucy needed to be with Max, oh god, she needed to be with Jean.

When the librarian came back, Lucy was the first to move. Grabbing the key and scampering towards the basement, she knew the quicker they got done with this the quicker she'd be back with Jean.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐙𝐎𝐘𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒. She didn't like the woods unless it was for partying or bonfires or days at the lake. But now, she was waiting impatiently for Lucas to stop being a dumbass. She lets him out of the car once and he's off slipping through windows and into Dustin's bedroom.

Jason, Patrick, and Andy were around the front of the house banging on doors but she knew no one would be home. Dustin was with Steve, and Steve was hopefully with Lucy, which meant all her friends were accounted for because Jean was waiting patiently for them to come back to her rescue.

Which still pissed Zoya off, she hadn't forgotten about it while traipsing on worse adventure after even more worse adventure with the fucking basketball team. If she'd just known the truth from the beginning, it wouldn't have mattered. She would've been with Jean at the boathouse and she would've known her relationship with Eddie was more profound than she'd first realized.

She thinks that bit shocked more than other bits and pieces.

Eddie Munson was Jean's personal savior through her trauma and he didn't even know what she'd gone through. Zoya thinks that is what makes her the most angry. That she couldn't have been there for Jean, even when she knew exactly nothing alongside Munson. He was there for her and Zoya...Zoya wasn't.

She thought her and Jeanie were closer than that, better than that.

It was the same with Chrissy. Only Jean knew the extent of it all, and well, Lucy too. Zoya knew nothing. She'd been in the dark for it all and now Chrissy was dead, she was dead–

"Hey, hey," she rushed out, spotting the boys coming around the house. "You guys find nothing up front?"

Jason shook his head. "Nobody's home."

"Bum–mer." She stuck her hands in her varsity jacket, suddenly wishing she was wearing something other than the shorts she'd put on this morning. The beginnings of spring were still upon them and Zoya was already wishing for warm summer weather meant for bikinis and pools and lakes and beer. "Well, we should just head out then, right? Look for clues elsewhere?"

"Where's Lucas?" asked Jason.

"Um," Zoya rocked back and forth on her heels. It was better to be truthful than to lie and get caught. Even though lying was the most fun Zoya could have right now. "Lucas found a way in, told me he was looking for clues so I'm keeping watch for him."

"He broke in?" said Andy, eyes widening not in shock but perhaps pride.

"Oh, well, you know how it goes," shrugged Zoya. "Boy finds open window, boy crawls through open window, and bada-bing-bada-boom the boy is in the house. Curiosity is a young boy's best friend."

Jason ignored her and stalked towards the window, peering inside. He tapped on it loudly, like he almost wanted to throw his fist through the glass and snapped, "Sinclair!"

While the boys waited for Lucas to crawl his way back out the window, Zoya had zipped up her jacket and stood now very obediently to the side. She didn't want to see Lucas get hurt, she didn't want to see anyone get hurt, but Jason was on the war path and she knew she wouldn't be able to stop him herself if he got too close to the younger boy.

"What the hell were you doing?" said Jason when Lucas climbed down and back into the grass.

"I was...I was looking for clues," said Lucas, giving Zoya a sheepish look and she nodded, hoping he understood she was on his side.

"Clues?" said Patrick. "What, freshman think he's Sherlock Holmes or something?" He earned himself a high five which Zoya rolled her eyes too. How had she liked him?

"Yo, let's go," muttered Jason, believing Lucas wasn't worth the trouble and that made Zoya furious. Lucas was everything, he was strong and he was just gaining confidence and she'd be damned if she let Jason stupid fucking face Carver ruin that for him.

God, she was turning into Jean.

"You know they were, like, buddies, right?" said Zoya, stepping towards Lucas as the three boys before them stilled. "Lucas knew what to look for, okay? If anyone can find Dustin, he can."

"I did, um, find a clue," said Lucas. "I...I know where Eddie is."

Zoya's blood ran cold. Okay, Lucas, so not what I was expecting you to say there. She really didn't like what he had to say next and suddenly, she wished it was okay to beat up a freshman with her own bare hands because he was so gonna get it now.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 on the screen that magnified them under a light. She liked the archives, it felt fancy. She'd never been down here before and it was like she'd stepped into another world surrounded by shelves of boxes and the smell of moth balls and old people.

Lucy liked that smell. It was a comfort, like she was back in her grandma's house that always smelled like something green, like ivy growing on the walls outside or some tea. It was almost like home here in the basement. Nothing was real outside besides what was right in front of her.

And currently, that was Victor Creel. Both Nancy and Robin were muttering about how they couldn't find anything but Lucy was engrossed by the articles. She didn't know who he was before this and it seemed, for the most part, he was not capable of lifting people in the air and becoming invisible. It didn't seem likely the seventy-something old could've possessed Chrissy from his prison cell.

"Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst," rambled Robin. "Blah, blah, blah, blah..." There was the creaking of the chair as Robin asked, "What are we looking for exactly?" When Nancy didn't respond, Robin said her name and tapped rhythmically on the wood panel beside her. "Any mention of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?"

Nancy sighed loudly as Lucy scrolled to the next article in her batch. "I don't know, okay?!" Nancy jumped up, still speaking but Lucy was lost in her article.

She liked getting lost, for the moment. It was a good distraction from the horror that had been seeping through the cracks of her life and her mind. As Robin and Nancy's voices got softer, Lucy choked back a gasp. The article title said everything she needed to know.

Victor Creel claims vengeful demon killed family. The murder that shocked a small community. Was it a triple homicide? Or a demonic ritual?

The first mention of something dark and twisted within their home. She felt victorious and light for the first time in hours and shouted, happily, "You guys better come see this!"

She'd been given a stack of old tapes to plug into the machine and at first, the alien abductions and strange sightings of Bigfoot seemed like a lost cause but seeing Victor Creel's name amongst the mysterious and the downright inside felt truly victorious.

She heard their feet against the stairs and trudge back into the room, someone coming up behind her to read over her shoulder. Her whole body tensed when Robin began to speak, her lips so close to her skin that Lucy could feel herself burning.

"'Victor allegedly hired a priest,'" read Robin in a deep voice, "'to exorcise the demon from his home.'" Robin glanced over at Nancy who was hovering by Lucy's other shoulder. "Pretty novel for the 50s. The Exorcist wasn't even out yet."

"Keep going," urged Nancy and Lucy scrolled slowly down.

She narrowed her eyes, leaning closer. "The exorcism failed but it..." She let her eyes travel down further, her voice dropping softly. "...but it angered the demon."

"The demon murdered his family and removed their eyes," said Robin. "'Victor believed he was spared as a punishment.'"

Nancy scowled. "That's pretty convenient for Victor."

"Or, like, super inconvenient," said Robin and Lucy nodded.

"He was declared legally insane during his trial," said Lucy with a frown, bouncing off what Robin was already leading to. "Why would he do that? Why would he willingly go to an insane asylum unless no one believed him? We spoke earlier about how if you saw a big, scary alternate dimension monster, you couldn't go to the cops because they wouldn't believe you. They'd think you were insane, what if this is why?"

"It sounds pretty insane," added Robin. "Just didn't go public because–"

Something clicked in Nancy's face. "The plea bargain. The records were sealed."

"What if a demon did invade Victor's home?" said Robin. "It's just, this demon wasn't any old demon."

"It was Vecna," whispered Nancy with a firm nod.

They all began to gather their things, they had enough ammunition to head back to the others and come up with a more dignified plan. As Lucy grabbed her wallet, stuffing it in her jacket pocket, she said, "Why would Vecna target the Creel family? What made them...like Chrissy and Fred?"

"There has to be some denominator that connects them all," said Nancy as they returned the key and hurried towards the front doors as Robin pulled the walkie out to find Dustin. "Chrissy was having nightmares, we know that, and Fred was anxious and scared, which can connect them both that way but the Creels? That was an entire family being killed, not just one person at random."

"It's not random, though," said Lucy. "There has to be something we're not seeing."

"Dustin, do you copy?" came Robin as the walkie crackled.

"Yeah," came Dustin's distant voice, "I copy."

"So, Nancy's a genius," said Robin as they hurried down the front steps of the library and towards Nancy's car. "Vecna's first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull's-eye."

"Okay, that's totally bonkers but I can't really talk right now," said Dustin and through the static, Lucy could hear feet hitting tile.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"Breaking and entering into school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files," said Dustin, as if this were a normal night for him.

"Can you repeat that?"

"Just get your ass over here, stat. We'll explain everything."

Nancy threw her arms out. "I thought they were talking to Ms. Kelley."

Robin shook her head, opening the car door. "We leave them alone for two hours."

As they got into the car, Lucy continued the conversation they were having before Dustin's drastic message. "Do you think Creel's still alive?"

"We never saw any news article that confirms a death," said Nancy as she started the car, "so, for the moment, yeah. He's still alive."

Lucy smiled. They had a good chance of finding him and speaking to him in person if that was the case. Yes, she knew she needed to get back to Max and stay with her, but even as she sat in the back seat, completely third wheeling, she didn't feel all that anxious as before.

She had a purpose again.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐙𝐎𝐘𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒, especially at night. Without her friends by her side, something about being in the woods with Jason Carver made her chest feel funny. Not only did it feel incredibly kidnappy and murdery, but it felt a little bit too much on the insanity end of things.

Jason's trunk was filled with kidnapper tools. Rope, baseball bat, rifle, flashlight, crowbar, toolkit filled with unknown tools, and the red light from his tail lights illuminating the whole thing made it feel ten times more awful.

"So," said Jason, dropping to his knees in the dirt and gravel," if Sinclair is right, the freak is hiding here." He drew a big X and then circled it, as if Zoya was supposed to understand what any of that meant. "We move through the woods here together. Then, Patrick and Andy, you split up here." Another meaning X was drawn. "Go around this way. Me and Sinclair, we keep going, then flank his ass from both sides. That freak won't know what hit him."

"Okay, one problem," murmured Zoya, as she thought of all the ways to keep these psychos away from the boat house. "What happens if Jean is here?"

"We save her," said Jason. "We get her as far away from the freak before we beat his ass."

Zoya, still frowning, said, "Okay, yes, but another problem. If Eddie really didn't do it, then what are you going to do?"

"That freak killed my girlfriend!" cried Jason, standing up swiftly. "We get his ass and take him in, we get justice! Don't you want justice for Chrissy? She was your friend."

"Yes, so true, all very valid," said Zoya, "but, like I've been saying all day to you dumbasses, Eddie isn't capable of this shit okay? He brings us weed at parties! He scores us the big drugs all you assholes love to take. That coke I brought with me to Katie's like three weekends ago? Yeah, courtesy of Munson!"

"He's in a fucking cult, Z," said Andy. "He's bad news."

"He's only bad news because he wears leather and is in a band. That's why you hate him, not because you think he's some violent freak," said Zoya, shaking her head as the boys gripped their weapons. Weapons...who the hell did they think they were? "Or...or you think Chrissy would never have been with him unless for other reasons, right, J? That Eddie was mackin' on your girl and you feel so threatened because you know your dick is smaller–"

Jason grabbed Zoya by the arm and pushed her roughly against the hood of his car and she gasped. Pain seized her lower back. "Shut the hell up, Zoya! Shut the fuck up if you know what's good for you!"

She saw images of Billy flashing before her eyes, of him pushing her against her dresser with his hands on either arm and squeezing and squeezing...

"Hey, hey, Jason, man, come on!" said Patrick. "Let her go!"

Billy with his hand around her throat in his little bedroom, her shoulder lodged against the gym equipment he liked to have in there. The weights against her shoulder blades, the bar on the back of her neck. It had gone on for far too long, it had been all too much...never again would she allow herself to be another man's punching bag.

Jason's grip tightened on her and she forced herself to grin back in his face, saying, "Chrissy was buying drugs that night, Jason. I was her best friend, I knew what she was doing. Jean knew what she was doing. Even fucking Lucy knew. Lucy, dude. Lucy knew about the drugs! Lucy for god's sake!"

"Chrissy would never buy from that freak..."

She pushed Jason back and he stumbled a step, like he couldn't believe he'd just grabbed her like that. "She was having nightmares. She was scared but she wasn't scared of Eddie. Something was really wrong with her, Jason, and we...we didn't know. We didn't see the warning signs and that's on us, not Eddie!"

She hadn't seen it. Zoya hadn't noticed...she hadn't noticed a thing...

"What if...what if Zoya's right, man?" whispered Patrick, coming to her rescue again. "Chrissy...she'd been off, you'd told us that, remember? Something wasn't right."

"But Munson..." Jason shook his head. "She was found there in his trailer, alone. If he was innocent, why would he have run?"

"Because he's a drug dealer, dumbass!" said Zoya, fixing her jacket and ignoring how her arm hurt from how hard he'd gripped her. Even her lower back hurt from being pressed against the car. "His house was full of drugs, he couldn't get caught with that."

"I think," murmured Lucas, "we should talk to Eddie first, if he's here. Find out what happened..."

"And if he did it?" said Andy. "If the freak killed Chrissy?"

"Then we take him," snapped Jason. "We take him for ourselves."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, crawling out of the boat and towards the door. Peering out through the cracks in the wall, she could see flashlights streaking through the woods. Eddie was smoking by the water, where the boat house opened up to the lake. She could see his silhouette, crouching down in the darkness, and the little light from his cigarette. It wasn't making the same light as the ones coming from the woods.

They'd been uncharacteristically quiet with one another once Lucy left. Something about his jealousy made her want to clamp her mouth shut but she'd been like that too. Quick to judge, quick to think so low of her friends...

"Eddie," she hissed in a low whisper. "Eddie, get over here. Now."

She saw him kill his cigarette, crushing it against the dock and scurrying back inside with his body hunched over as if that could hide him from sight. Jean knew that if her friends had come back, they wouldn't have come from behind the house. They would've come from the front like they had last night or this morning. There would've been no sneaking around, nothing suspicious.

Eddie's hand found her shoulder, pulling her away from the door and against him. He was solid and warm against her, reminding Jean that she wasn't alone in this. That they still had each other, no matter what happened. But their little hiding spot had become compromised and by who, she wasn't sure yet.

All Jean knew was that when it was time to run, she wasn't going to stop until someone or something finally claimed her. Maybe it would be the water she thought she would drown in or maybe it would be the monster coming down through the veil. Or maybe...maybe it would be something else entirely.

(it would probably be a mix of it all.)

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━sweetie little jean...im sorry id abandoned u for so long but we're back now <3333

lmk what u think about this chapter...kinda all over the place as i try to get back into writing but i wanted it to feel like the episodes do when it goes back and forth between characters. trying to give all 3 girls their own voice, hope i did them justice ahh!! next updates will be better, i swearrrrr 

thoughts on lucy / zoya as narrators tho?? should i go back to mainly jean?

<33 pls pls vote / comment <33