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August Santos was sort-of a loser.

Correction.

Okay, he was a major loser.

August Santos was a major loser, and he was well-aware of it, because there were many attributes in his life that directed towards this fact. For two years, he was the only person in the AV Club, because after sophomore year the two seniors who did it with him graduated; he was obsessed with movies to an unhealthy degree; but, he steered away from renting them at familyVideo because he refused to have a repeat of last summer (it's too embarrassing to even repeat for the readers); he's lived in the trailer park off Roane County since his dad up and booked it when Auggie was four; his only friend was a freshman with the soul of a fifty-year-old women who's lived through ten wars; and his favorite t-shirt of his favorite band — The Smiths — was stolen from a dumpster.

Going back to the freshman with the soul of a fifty-year-old woman who's lived through ten wars — Auggie had been nervous all night. He'd barely gotten any sleep last night because of her.

You see, the thing was, Sam left a drawing on her desk in the AV room. Her own drawing, to be specific.

And it was a picture of Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham going into Eddie's trailer at night.

And last night Auggie saw Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham going into Eddie's trailer.

And this morning there was a multitude of cops interrogating Wayne Munson (Eddie's uncle) outside their trailer.

Did Auggie ever see Chrissy leave?

"Corazón, entra en la casa," his mom said in her thick Latin accent. "No quiero que estos cerdos nos metan en problemas."

Auggie turned his head down to see his oh-so short mother out of the trailer now, too. He was trying to inspect what was really going on, but it was hard, because his trailer was to the left of Eddie's but still a good bit away.

"Un segundo, mamá, te lo prometo," Auggie promised. His mom squeezed his hand before she entered back inside.

Right across from Eddie's trailer, Auggie saw that Maxine (Max) Mayfield was outside, too, trying to do the same thing as Auggie. Auggie new enough about Max — he knew Sam and Max used to be best friends, he knew Max's stepbrother died in the mall fire, he knew Max and her mother had to move into the trailer park since, and he knew Sam and Max are no longer best friends.

Going against his mother's wishes, Auggie took a few steps closer to the Munson trailer. It was all just way too suspicious. Sam's drawing, seeing it come to life last night, and the cops outside the trailer now. Auggie had to know.

His footsteps grew closer and closer. Auggie got just the right angle to be able to see it.

Chrissy Cunningham, dead, on the trailer floor.

"Hey!" a hand clamped on Auggie's shoulder, and the boy wheeled around with a terrified gasp. A cop stared down at him with stern eyes. "You can't be out here. Get back inside."

Auggie couldn't help his head from whipping back towards the trailer, though. Chrissy's body face down, limbs broken and bent all the way backwards.

"Back inside," the cop repeated, having no care for Auggie's panic.

Auggie jogged away, and unsettling feeling in his chest. He tried to calm his breathing as he ran towards his neighbor's trailer on the other side. Auggie didn't get back inside, he didn't listen to the cop.

He stole one of his neighbor's bikes (sorry to the Bell family) before mounting it and pedaling out of the trailer park before anyone could stop him.

Auggie needed to see Sam.

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Samantha Hughes had nightmares every night — a well-known fact amongst those who either have had to sleep in the same vicinity as her or those she confided in. Every night since November 4, 1984. Some nights her mind was kind to her — Sam would have a nightmare, only scary enough to make her gasp awake instead of scream awake, and then Sam could go back to sleep in peace for the rest of the night. Some nights it was much worse, and Sam would be screaming for thirty minutes before someone could calm her down enough to stop.

Last night Sam had a horrible nightmare, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. There were flashes of blood and broken bones and a red mindscape and screams and so much suffering that Sam couldn't handle it all. She woke up screaming, but there was no one there to comfort her, so she had to calm down herself. It took her heart about an hour to slow down enough and let her sleep.

No one had bothered waking Sam up in the morning, knowing how much she lacked sleep. Corey had left for the airport, Stephanie had left for her shift at the music store, and Aunt Kat had left for work. Sam — for once — was dead asleep, snoring lightly in her bed and hugging Stephanie's old teddy bear Sam stole.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at her bed that had Sam stirring. In a groggy voice, she mumbled, "Ngh, leave me alone, Corey..."

But the perpetrator continued vigorously knocking on Sam's door.

Sam winced at the loud noise in her house. "Corey, I said go away!" she shouted in annoyance.

Then, Sam realized the knocking was coming from her front door of the entire house. She sat up in confusion.

"What the hell?" whispered Sam.

Not having time to put on her contacts, Sam grasped at her nightstand for her glasses. She put on the circular spectacles before getting out of bed and walking to the front door that was constantly being banged on.

"Hold on, I'm getting it!"

The knocking didn't falter.

"I said I'm getting it! God damn!" Sam angrily swung the door open, but then stopped and faltered completely at the sight of Auggie Santos.

"Finally!" he exclaimed in exasperation.

Sam's entire face screwed up in bewilderment. "Auggie?"

"I was knocking forever!" Auggie complained. He pushed past Sam and walked into her house. Auggie examined, "Hey, you have a nice house!"

Sam shut her front door, and it was way too early for her to comprehend this shit. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Auggie stopped, as if he just remembered something. He turned around to face Sam with a terrified look — "Did you kill Chrissy Cunningham?"

"What?" Sam questioned, distressed in confusion.

Auggie rambled, "It would really suck if you did. The police think it's Eddie Munson, and I'm kind of hoping it's him, because if it's not him, it's you, and I really don't want it to be you."

He had begun walking towards her living room, pacing as he freaked out. Sam felt a million years behind. She pushed her glasses back up her nose, face unrelentingly etched in disorientation.

"Chrissy Cunningham died?"

"Yeah, in Eddie's trailer last night," informed Auggie. Then, he stopped his rambling and turned back to face her. "Wait. You don't know?"

"How would I know that?!" Sam cried incredulously. "You just woke me up!"

From Auggie's back pocket, he pulled out and unfolded an unfamiliar drawing. Auggie handed it to her, entire demeanor now serious. As Sam tentatively examined the drawing, Auggie said, "Yesterday, you left this in the AV room. I didn't — I don't know. I just thought it was weird you had a drawing of Eddie Munson's trailer, so I took it back with me to the trailer park, and — and it was a perfect match. You drew everything right, down to the very last detail. The weirdest part—"

Sam's mouth dropped, and she looked like she was going to throw up.

"Eddie and — and Chrissy are in it."

"But you weren't at the trailer park last night," Auggie pointed out. Sam finally looked up from her drawing to stare at Auggie with tears brewing in her eyes. Auggie, noticing how distressed she looked, trailed, "So, I just..."

Sam looked down at the drawing again. She blinked, and a tear dropped onto the paper. "Oh, my god..." she rasped.

"Sam..." Auggie started, gently taking the drawing away from her, "what is this?"

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Sam and Auggie were now in her bedroom; Sam was sitting on her bed, hugging her knees and a pillow in between her stomach and legs; Auggie was sitting in her desk chair.

Sam was trying to explain to him what was going on.

"I don't — I don't remember drawing that... I don't. I—" she cracked her knuckles anxiously. "I didn't think it'd get this bad."

"You didn't think what would get this bad?" Auggie asked, tilting his head confusedly.

Sam looked up at Auggie as if just only noticing him. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nostrils, said, "I didn't kill Chrissy."

"Then who did?" he wanted to know.

Which, Sam wanted to know, too. "I don't know."

Wildly confused, Auggie scoffed, "Yet you knew what her last moment alive looked like?"

Sam knew. Right then, right there, in the tense stature of her bedroom, Sam knew what she had to tell Auggie. It was Lucas Sinclair asking Max Mayfeild to accept the risk. It was Steve Harrington asking Robin Buckley to translate a Russian code.

"You won't believe me."

Trying to joke, Auggie huffed. "I mean, I believed you when you said you didn't kill anyone. How's that for trust?"

But Sam didn't find his half-joke funny.

"I didn't kill Chrissy, and I wasn't at the trailer park last night..." she took a deep breath. "But I did... predict her death."

How's that for trust?

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"And then Stephanie asked if I was okay," Robin rambled as she re-stacked shelves with a broad smile. "And it wasn't a cheap, fake question, either. It was like... It was like real, genuine concern."

"Of course she meant it," Steve responded half-heartedly, re-stacking movies of his own. "You're a very concerning person."

Steve turned on his heel to move to another aisle, and Robin trailed him desperately.

"My point is that Stephanie was there, and everything was just like... it was perfect."

"But...?" Steve prompted, knowing there was more.

"But I'm having this problem where it's like I should stop talking. I have said everything I need to say, but then I guess I get nervous, and the words, they just — they keep spilling out, and it's like my — my brain is moving faster than my mouth, or — or rather my — my mouth is moving faster than my brain, and it's like I'm digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging — I'm trying to stop digging, but I can't, and I'm doing it right now, aren't I?"

Robin pivoted to see Steve had finished shelving all the movies (even hers), and was leaning against an aisle, just watching her panic.

"Yeah," Steve answered. "You are."

Robin exhaled miserably. She walked backwards until her back ran into an illuminated movie display hung on the wall.

"Oh, I'm hopeless," she whined.

Steve straightened off the aisle, walking over to Robin and leaning his back against the movie display as well.

"Eh," Steve shrugged. "We both are."

Robin turned her head to look at Steve, examine him. She said, "If only we could just, like, combine."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed, and he met Robin's scheming gaze. "'Combine'?" he questioned.

"No, think about it," Robin started. "I know exactly what I want, and I've found the girl of my dreams, but I just can't get the courage to ask her out." Steve hummed in agreement, nodding. "Meanwhile, you go on, like, a million dates, and you have no idea what you want." Again, Steve hummed in agreement, nodding. "So if we just combined, all our problems would be solved. Because, I mean, alone, let's face it..."

"We totally suck," Steve stated, finally catching Robin's drift. "I wish I could find the right girl."

Robin nudged him in the shoulder. Only half-way joking, she told him, "You know, boys are an option, too."

Steve's eyes widen massively. He croaked, "What?"

"I'm just saying. Liking both boys and girls. It's called bisexuality," Robin shrugged.

She pushed off of the wall like what she just said didn't change the trajectory of Steve's life, leaving him behind to let his mind run a million miles an hour.

He felt overwhelmed. He felt like his brain was loose.

Robin gasped, snapping Steve out of his thoughts. "Ooh, I think I found our morning movie."

She ran over to an aisle labeled 'drama' on the other side of the store. Pulling a movie off the shelf, she pleaded, "Doctor Zhivago."

Steve groaned, arms crossed as he pushed off of the illuminated display. "Ugh, you know I don't do double VHS."

"But it's about doomed love," Robin cooed.

"Oh, well, that's relatable," snorted Steve.

"Precisely," Robin grinned. She began walking behind the desk, not giving Steve a choice in the movie suggestion. "Also, Julie Christie is b-b-bonkers hot in this. Like, seriously, the most beautiful creature apart from Stephanie Hughes that I have seen in my life."

Robin grabbed the remote and turned the TV on to see the news was on.

"—We're in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don't have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the name—"

"Holy shit," Steve muttered, now standing right next to Robin as they listened to the horrifying news.

"—although we are told they're currently in the process of notifying the family."

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The two of them rode fast on their bikes — well, Auggie rode fast on his neighbor's stolen bike. He pedaled after Sam as she sped for a certain destination. The expression on his face couldn't be more distraught.

"I didn't know when you said I won't believe you that I actually wouldn't believe you, Sam! I mean, how am I supposed to?!"

Sam grimaced to herself. "Well, I warned you."

"No!" Auggie protested. "No, because this isn't normal. Do you know that? Huh, Sam? Because you don't seem to know—"

"Shut up, Auggie!" Sam hissed, and her voice cracked. "Yes, I know!"

Auggie huffed as they biked, trying not to totally lose it right now. "So... what? You just — have superpowers? You just woke up one day and boom?"

"I wouldn't say they're super," she muttered under her breath.

"You supposedly predicted Chrissy Cuningham's death with powers," Auggie cried incredulously. "That's supernatural, Samantha!"

Sam's head whipped back to him with a wide-eyed glare. "Could you be any louder? God, you're so—"

"I'm what?" he cut her off. "Do go on, O' Wise Psychic Friend of Mine."

"I'm noy psy — I don't really know what I am, okay?" Sam reworded herself, taking a deep breath in what looked like an attempt to stop snapping at Auggie. "Shit like this has been happening to me for... a while. Sometimes I'll draw things that are useful, or I'll get these empathic links and feelings, or... well, I don't want to get in what else happens... But — But it's never been like this. And, no, I don't know how or why. It's not exactly something I want to dive into about myself."

Auggie sighed, choosing best not to ask about that further. He scoffed, "So, where are we even going? Are you secretly bringing me somewhere to murder me?"

"Well," Sam started sarcastically, looking as if she wanted to throttle him, "that wasn't the original plan."

"Hey!"

Sam deflated as they turned onto another street. "Look, I don't keep my drawings."

Auggie stared at Sam, trying to figure out the crazy puzzle she was. "What does that even—"

"If you shut up for five seconds, I could tell you!"

Auggie's mouth snapped shut.

Sam rolled her eyes, said, "Thank you." Then, she took a deep breath in. "I stopped drawing, after — after something happened with my friends a bit ago that just... ended up being the future — Well, at least I tried to. Sometimes, I don't even know or remember when I'm drawing. I think I can't even control it."

Calmer now, Auggie gently asked, "Like Chrissy?"

"Like Chrissy," Sam nodded sadly amidst a sigh. "What I can do, what I draw, it — it all creeped me out. I started having these panic attacks, and as my powers got worse so did the freak outs. A... friend of mine offered to hold onto them so I wouldn't have to look at them anymore. I wanna — I wanna see if there's anything there that will... explain this."

Auggie took a minute to process all of this information. He was disturbed by it, but it seemed, Sam was much more traumatized about her powers than it seemed anyone could ever be.

"Alright..." Auggie nodded slowly. "And this friend? Who is it?"

Sam did not seem keen on answering his question.

"Seriously?" he scoffed. "You're not telling me? After everything you've told me you draw the line at this?!"

Sam slowed down on her bike riding, so Auggie did the same. She muttered, "It's just — poor timing for us to be here."

"Be where?"

Wordlessly, Sam parked her bike and hopped off of it. Auggie followed her, and the two teens began walking on a spacious yard leading up to a big house. Even though Auggie lived all the way in the trailer park, the house was recognizable with ease.

"Wait. Wait, oh... Oh no," Auggie frowned. "Oh, my god, Sam, this is—"

"He was the first one to know, okay?" Sam confessed, not looking at Auggie, looking straight ahead as they walked up to the porch. "He put the pieces together before even I could, and if you so much as comment on the irony of our situation I am going to shove Ted Wheeler's underwear down your throat."

Because they were staring at the house of Mike Wheeler.

It wouldn't have been so ironic if Sam literally didn't feud with him over their friendship just yesterday.

Sam sighed, knocking on the front door as if she didn't ruthlessly threaten Auggie.

"Jesus, woman," mumbled Auggie, eyes wide and trained on the front door.

After a few seconds, the front door opened to reveal a curious Karen Wheeler.

"Who is it—? Oh, Sam!" she cheered. "Hello, sweetie, it's been so long. How are you doing?"

"Just outstanding, Mrs. Wheeler," Sam lied with a forced smile on her face. "And you?"

Karen shrugged. "Well, I'm quite alright. Mike left for California this morning, and I feel a little sick."

Passive aggressively, Sam commented, "He tends to have that effect on people, doesn't he?"

Karen's face fell a little.

"I suppose, um... It's always a pleasure to have you here, what do you need? And — uh — who's this?"

"Oh, right!" Sam dramatically hit her forehead with her hand using terrible acting skills that had Auggie holding back a face. "How could I forget? Sorry, Mrs. Wheeler, this is August Santos."

Sam motioned to him and Auggie waved awkwardly. "Hi."

"He's in the AV Club with me — President, actually," Sam explained, electing not to add the fact they were the only two people in the club.

"You're still doing that, Sam?" cooed Karen. "Oh, that's adorable! It's a pleasure to meet you, August."

"You too, ma'am," Auggie squeaked awkwardly.

Sam was not impressed with his horrible social skills.

"Yes, such a pleasure," she pat his shoulder aggressively, a hint he should just stop trying. "Um, we actually came here because — well..." Sam looked for a lie, and her face suddenly brightened as she thought of one so quickly. "Do you remember how Mike used to be President of the middle school's AV Club?"

Karen smiled. "Well, of course, yes."

"Right!" Sam cheered. "So, well, I wanted to see if he still had this Heathkit Ham Shack in the basement. It's this really nice radio that Mr. Clarke bought for us. You remember Mr. Clarke, right?"

(Karen did not know the Heathkit Ham Shack was blown up, and Sam would be using this to her advantage.)

Sam's ramblings were clearly confusing Karen, and Auggie, too, but that seemed to be Sam's plan.

"I-I do," stammered Karen.

"Yeah, Mike promised me he'd give it to me once I joined AV again, but you know Mike," Sam laughed uncomfortably. "Forgetting people—" Auggie nudged her— "I mean things. Forgetting things." She took deep breath, snapping back into it. "So, we just thought we'd stop by and see if it's here at all. After the game yesterday, me and August decided we needed a new radio. Isn't that right, August?"

"Uh," Auggie coughed, hating to lie. "Yes?"

From unseen inside the house, Auggie heard an older, male voice chide at Sam, "Are you talking about that explicit commentating you did, Samantha? You better start watching your language."

"Ted!" Karen whipped her head toward a La-Z-Boy, scoldingly.

Sam leaned her head into the house. "No one was talking to you, Ted!" She leaned back out to smile faux-enthusiastically at Mrs. Wheeler. "What a ray of sunshine."

"I'm sorry about him, honey. I'm sure your commentating was great," Karen complimented. Surprising Auggie, she stepped back and motioned for the pair to come inside. "You two can come right in! Take all the time you need. We have leftovers from breakfast if either of you are hungry!"

This time, Sam's smile was real and genuinely relieved.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Wheeler. Really. It means a lot."

Auggie's eyes darted around, looking for the kitchen. He asked, "Wait, what kind of leftovers?"

Sam glared at him discreetly. "He's kidding," she declared before grabbing his forearm and talking fast. "We'll just be in the basement, sorry, bye! Hi, Holly!"

He heard a little girl call back as Sam yanked Auggie and sped-walked him down into Mike Wheeler's basement.

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

Sam and Auggie have been down in Mike's basement for about an hour now. It was so messy, so disgusting, that Sam couldn't help but clean it a little while they thoroughly searched through it — don't blame her, the messiness was making it harder to find anything.

Rummaging through Mike's desk, Auggie broke the hour-long silence by asking, "Is there anything specific we're looking for, or...?"

Sam turned the old D&D table inside and out, though she doubted Mike would care, because it hadn't been used since October.

"Hopefully more drawings," she commented idly. "If we can't find any... I don't know. Maybe I — I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

Auggie finally looked up from the desk to stare at her. "What does that mean?"

Visions of tunnels and flashes of Hopper's cabin plagued Sam's memory.

"I don't really want to think about it," she shuddered.

Sam moved over to the sofa, lifting up blankets and pillows. Auggie moved over to the armchairs, where he lifted up a half-eaten, stale bag of cheese puffs.

"Were all of your little Rager representatives like this?" Auggie gagged, holding up the bag with two fingers. "How did you handle it? I mean, it stinks in here."

"Party members," Sam corrected, a little snappily as she snatched the cheese puff bag from Auggie and threw it in the trash.

Auggie raised his hands up in half-hearted defense before he snorted and continued searching. Sam did the same, praying to a god she didn't believe in that she would find something in reward for their sacrifice of being down her for so long.

Sam's glasses had slid a little down her nose, so she pushed them back and up and realized how much she took her contacts for granted. The second her vision got a little clearer, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.

Sam crouched down and looked under the sofa, excitedly pulling out a thick, blue binder. "Shit!" she cheered.

"What?" Auggie worried. He turned around and spotted what Sam was holding. "Damn, is that really all your drawings?"

"Well, no," Sam shrugged. "Our friend Will — he moved to California — he draws, too. And Mike's been keeping our drawings ever since we were kids."

Auggie eyed Sam suspiciously, apparently not believing that Sam once had good friends.

She sighed and held back an eye roll. "My friends aren't actually bad people, you know? Mike's not. We've all just... been through stuff. I don't blame us for changing." Then, Sam slammed the binder down on the old D&D table, solemn look wiped off her face. "Now, can we focus, please?"

Auggie shrugged defensively for himself. He sat down in one of the wooden chairs that were much too small to accommodate him at his big age.

"No, sure, by all means," he commented.

Sam sat in the chair next to him, and it was much easier for her to fit than it was for Auggie.

"Okay, then," Sam took in a big breath. "Let's do this."

Sam opened the binder, and they began looking.

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

A part of Sam wished they hadn't decided to go searching through the binder of art. All it brought was an unimaginable pain that she'd been feeling for a while, but looking through the drawings only increased that hurt.

She saw Will's drawing of Sam, Mike, and Will as their D&D roles — Druid, Paladin, and Cleric. She saw Sam's stick-figure drawing made when she was nine of Sam, Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Will all saving a castle together. She saw Will's drawing of a teddy bear, a stuffed animal that Mike used to sleep with before his dad forced him to stop. She saw Sam's drawing she'd made, making fun of Mike as he threw at their third grade Nativity Play. She saw a drawing Sam and Will had made together — a surprise for Mike's seventh birthday — of the three of them playing in Mike's basement forever, happily growing old.

As Sam's throat tightened, she did not see a drawing that would help them with the whole Chrissy situation.

"Damn it," Sam rasped, slamming the binder shut. It grew later outside the longer they lingered.

"Well, that was," Auggie side-eyed her, "completely unhelpful and heart-breakingly sad."

Sam shot him a look.

"Yeah, sorry," he deflated, nodding in self-awareness.

Sam's eyes fell back down to the closed binder, face down from the way Sam had closed it shut. Upon further inspection, her head tilted curiously.

"Wait, do you see that?"

Auggie looked back at the binder, too. He, admittedly, did not see what Sam was looking at.

"Er — no," he said.

"No, look," Sam pointed at the back of the binder. "It's... this isn't actually the back."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look!" she snapped, finger pointing at the back of the binder. "Underneath the binding cover. That's not the back, that's black construction paper."

Auggie startled, taken aback.

"Holy crap, it is..."

Sam and Auggie shared eye contact, a silent conversation passing between them.

Sam immediately took the binder in her hands again, prying her fingers in between the back of the binder and the plastic CVC on top of it. Auggie watched in awe, because as her fingers wriggled, she started shifting out the black construction paper that had been stuffed in between.

But that wasn't all.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Sam whispered.

Laid out on the table were four sheets of paper — the first, of course, was the black construction paper Mike had used to cover up the other three.

The other three were drawings.

Very unsettling drawings.

The first one was a nightly scene of a long, winding road that both of them recognized, because it was located at the outskirts of Hawkins. It was the street Auggie's bus took every to get him from the trailer park to school. A little further back on the road, was an unruly car crash engulfed in flames.

The second one was also a nightly scene, but this one wasn't near a road. Instead, it was Lover's Lake — a famous lake in Hawkins given its name due to its distinct heart shape. There was an abandoned, cheap boat flipped over in the middle of it.

The third one was... harder to figure out. It looked like it was set in some sort of attic. A very, very old attic. The only source of light was a faint, blue lantern set on the floor. All of the wood seemed aged, and Auggie didn't even know it was possible to display this much detail in a simple drawing.

"Pull out... Pull out the fourth drawing," Sam croaked. It really did sound like she was going to be sick.

With shaking hands, Auggie's hand fumbled for his back pocket. He pulled out the drawing of his trailer park, unfolded it before hesitantly putting them down on the table. Four drawings, four scenes.

"What—" Auggie had to clear his throat. "What the fuck does this mean?"

Sam gulped, trying not to cry. "I don't know."

"You drew these?"

Sam didn't want to do it, but something compelled her hand to reach forward. She flipped one of the drawings over.

Sam H.

She flipped a second drawing over.

Sam H.

She flipped the third drawing over.

Sam H.

And the fourth.

Sam H.

"Holy..." Auggie commented in a strained voice.

Sam breathing in sharply through her nose, eyes unable to look away from her drawings. It felt like the vines, like finding out there were moments of her life missing she could never get back.

"And you really don't remember doing this?" asked Auggie.

Sam forced herself to move, to shake her head, although stiffly. "Not at all," she rasped.

Auggie nodded, trying to be okay with all of this.

"I'm gonna be honest, I didn't believe you," Auggie confessed lightly, trying to cut away some of the tension. "But, well..."

"Well..." Sam echoed, because well.

Together, they stared and they stared.

"Hey, Sam?" Auggie questioned in a weak tone.

Finally, finally, Sam's eyes peeled off of her scribbled handwriting. She looked at Auggie.

"Yeah?"

"If the trailer drawing was... was Chrissy before she, you know," Auggie started, "then are these—?"

"I don't know," Sam shook her head, face wrenching up.

Auggie fell silent again, looking at the papers. He flipped them over with his own hands.

They stared and they stared.

Sam stared, and she stared, and she stared until an idea struck her.

"But I might be able to figure out how."

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

"Have you even done this before?"

Auggie was standing near the couch and armchairs, watching Sam stand behind the D&D table from afar. She was — as Sam had told him — trying to figure out the meaning behind her drawings. She was trying to figure out where to go next.

"Um," Sam glanced up from where she sprawled out the four dryings as if it were a ritual, "once. I accidentally drew a map of tunnels underneath the entirety of Hawkins which we used to save Hopper who was being strangulated and dying. But — again — that was an accident. And I had help from Will. Who was being possessed by an interdimensional monster — which is a long story we don't have time for."

Auggie nodded, because that was fair, although vaguely disturbing.

Sam continued, "Then, after that, I went into Billy Hargrove's possessed mind, but I had help from El — another girl with superpowers. So: technically, I've never done this alone. Or by my own will. But. It's what we have to work with."

"This is giving major Carrie vibes," Auggie couldn't help himself from pointing out.

Sam shrugged. "Not really, but to each their own."

She took a deep breath, and she closed her eyes.

"Do I just... watch, or—?"

"August," Sam growled, shutting him up.

Auggie immediately sat down on the couch, nodding.

"Right. Sorry. I'll be quiet. Do your thing, Carrie."

She opened up one eye to glare at him, but ultimately decided on not saying anything.

Sam's eyes closed, and she forced herself to relax. She took a deep breath in and blew a deep breath out. She let vague memories of instruction from El infiltrate her mind, and she placed her hands on the D&D table below.

What are you afraid is going to happen if you let it in?

She focused on that feeling in her chest. Sam breathed in deeply, again. The rushing sensation in her body grew.

Vaguely, she heard a sharp gasp, but it was a distant sound that was heard far away.

Sam could feel the electricity whizzing in her veins.

She slapped her hand down on the table.

Sam's eyes opened with a gasp, unknowingly flashing a bright, icy blue. Her hair flew back, as if there was a large gust of wind down in the basement. She looked down, and her hand was planted on the drawing of the winding road.

"Here," Sam breathed. "W-We need to go here."

Her head tilted up, only to find that Auggie had passed out on the floor.

"Shit," she muttered.

Sam grabbed all four drawings in a hurried manner before she rushed over to Auggie's limp body. She began shaking him rapidly, art crinkling in the process.

"Auggie. Auggie Santos. August!" Sam hissed. "You gotta get up. August, get up!"

Auggie gasped awake, shooting forward so that he was sitting up. His hands grasped around wildly, trying to get a look of his surroundings.

His eyes fell on Sam.

Auggie's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he passed out again.

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

Sam was sure she'd never rode her bike faster — not when her and Lucas were trying to reunite with their friends, not when the government was chasing the Party, not when she was late to school that one day because she overslept. Not ever.

Something was wrong. Sam hadn't felt that cold restriction in her chest in months and now it was back at full force.

She'd woken up Auggie and forced him to stay awake as quick as it could be possible. They pedaled and they pedaled and Sam didn't even know where she was going, but she was following her gut, knowing it would lead her to the right place.

Fred...

The deep, guttural voice reverberated in her ears, in her chest.

She biked faster.

Next to her, Sam could hear Auggie heaving desperately as he pedaled the distance with her. Mike's house was miles from the highway they were heading towards. They'd been biking for so long that it was officially night.

I want you to join me...

She biked faster.

And then—

They saw it.

There was a silhouette in the distance, growing nearer the more they pedaled. It appeared to be floating in the air, and it was unlike anything Sam had ever seen before.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Auggie screamed.

Sam biked impossibly faster until she opted on just jumping off her bike and running towards the scene, Auggie following in suit. The night breeze blew her hair back, naturally this time.

The floating figure was Fred.

"FRED!" yelled Sam, trying to prevent him from, well, dying. "FRED, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Fred rose, higher in the sky.

"IS THAT FRED BENSON?" Auggie questioned wildly, trying not to faint a third time.

Sam ignored him. She cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice, "FRED! FRED, COME ON! WAKE UP!"

Fred rose, higher in the sky. His eyes were rolled behind his head.

"FRED, DUDE, THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" Auggie joined in. "WAKE UP, MAN!"

And Sam was aware she hadn't told Auggie about her lightning-like powers, specifically. He knew about the sort-of psychic abilities only applied to drawings, and he knew about her being an Empath. She left out the electric attributes because she didn't see how that would ever be relevant — Sam only needed to use them in situations pertaining to the Upside Down. They were just running a murder investigation. She did not to unleash these abilities.

Right?

Sam shot out voltages of electricity, reaching for Fred's figure and trying to pull him away. It wasn't enough to kill or harm him; she just needed a force that would get him down.

But Fred wasn't budging.

"FRED!" called Sam, electric voice warping.

Auggie was screaming.

Then, Sam saw why Auggie was screaming.

Her electric harbinging was of no use. The blue, crystal zaps dissipated for Sam to see what was going on with Fred.

His limbs were snapping.

Sam gasped in sharply, taking a terrified step back.

His jaw dislocated.

Tears filled her eyes and a hand clapped over her mouth.

His entire body was being disjointed, bending in ways that shouldn't be possible.

Sam choked out a sob. It was all so traumatizing, but she couldn't look away.

His eyes peeled back into his head, blood running down the empty sockets.

The tears ran down Sam's face. She thought of a story she once told — of a boy who killed his entire family by breaking all their bones and sucking out their eyes.

No, Sam, it's not funny, though. What if it's all true?

Fred's body fell twenty feet from the air onto the concrete pavement.

Fred was dead.

Sam couldn't save him.

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

things keep getting stranger and stranger...

anyways this chapter was just sam and auggie being a chaotic duo. samgie? augsam? hughtos? idk but its so funny to me how sam is only murderously violent to him, a guy who's older than her. and he, a guy who's older then her, is absolutely terrified that her threats are real. the dynamic is dynamicing.

i needed to pull auggie into the plot without it being forced so unfortunately sam hasn't ganged up with max, dustin, steve, and robin yet but she will next chapter!! and nancy!!

auggie's whole pov at the beginning LOL. like screw his dad but he really just is a senior loser!! i feel you auggie, i am also a senior loser!!

"He was obsessed with movies to an unhealthy degree; but, he steered away from renting them at familyVideo because he refused to have a repeat of last summer (it's too embarrassing to even repeat for the readers)" i wonder what this is about:))))

fun fact that sam sleeps with steph's stuffed animal because when she used to have nightmares she would go into's stephs room and hug her. now, because of confidentially, sam can't, so this is the only kind of hug she could get from steph :(

i just wrote max's letter to sam. i want to die.

MIKE TRYING TO KEEP SAM LESS TRAUMATIZED EVEN FROM CALIFORNIA BY HIDING HER PICTURES. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN TELL ANYONE BOUT THEM. CUS HE KNOWS HOW MUCH SAM HATES HER POWERS. GOODNIGHT I'M ILL.

I MISS MIKE AND SAM COME BACK TO ME.

realizing their last convo before he left for cali was just a fight? like ok i'm done?

sam is so powerful!! go girl!!

but also... sam is so powerful... what are those drawings...

them witnessing fred's death. ok. that won't be traumatizing at all!

her fit for this episode:

glasses sam has returned!! we haven't seen her since season 1!! go girl!!

what'd you think?