- THEREFORE I AM -
Act one, chapter three:
What hides in the dark.

━━━     🍨 ━━━

The moment Arryn steps foot into her bedroom, she's reaching into her bag for her walkman. The headphone wire tangles between her fingers in her haste, wrapping around the skin tightly but Arryn overlooks the collision momentarily.

She slides Robin's tape into the machine and once it shuts with a satisfying click, Arryn flicks her hand, detangling herself and slides the headphones on. The music begins, thundering to life with a thrilling tempo and a delicate voice.

The remainder of her evening is spent in a similar fashion. Arryn does as she promises, and listens to the entirety of the album, and finds herself more immersed as the tracks fade from one to another. Her bed, her room, becomes a stadium and the thrill of the music hardly ceases until the crushing moment it all shutters to a stop and the tape winds itself to completion.

Arryn, somewhat dazed, sits up quickly. She reaches for her walkman, blindingly fumbling against the fabric of her sheets for the device. Her hands close around the shape and she brings it to her chest. Arryn falls into her old habits immediately and winds through the tape until she can find the song she quickly decides is her favourite. She settles back into her pillows, eyes closed, her finger poised over the rewind button.

Arryn listens to it until she's able to recite the tempo and lyrics from memory. It isn't until the tenth replay, does she decide then to turn the device off and spend whatever remains of the night sleeping.

Arryn abandons her walkman on her bedside table, allowing it to rest atop the book she swore she'd read but has never touched. The floorboards creak just beyond the sanctuary of her bedroom door while the things that roam in the dark lurk in the shadows of her home. She buries her head beneath her covers, hoping to find relief in her dreams.

      However Arryn finds herself unable to sleep. Her body is still alive with anxiety (mostly from the car journey home and the knowledge she has another shift in a days time,) as well as a swell of other complicated feelings she's struggling to begin to pick apart.

Despite her (somewhat embarrassing fear of the dark) Arryn finds herself sat up right, staring blankly at her ceiling, counting sheep in hopes her brain can ease itself into unconsciousness. It only proves fruitless.

      Sleep continues to allude her even as the first rays of the early morning light fall into her room. Arryn bites out a frustrated groan, exhausted and overwhelmed. She throws her legs over the side of her bed, and glares out the window. She curses the sun, the passage of time and most of all her own restlessness.

      With a sigh, Arryn drags herself to her feet. Her body is heavy, aching but functional nonetheless. Albeit not for much longer. The wooden floor is cold against her exposed skin and Arryn shivers but doesn't dare to venture through the inner workings of her room while the most of it is shrouded in a disturbing darkness.

      She knows at least the remainder of her house will be absent of shadows and the things that hide within them. It was childish truly, to be afraid of something as trivial as the dark. Her father had often scolded her when she was not much younger than she was now, for staying up to scour the entirety of her room for anything out of the ordinary. He'd seen the flashes of light fall beneath the gap where her door didn't quite reach the floor and stormed in, snatching the torch from her hands and demanded she return to bed.

      Arryn could only sob, mumbling through her choked breathes that she couldn't unless she knew it was safe.

      Her father had always lacked sympathy towards the behaviour Arryn exhibited, behaviour he couldn't write off as teenage hormones or growing pains. He chose to ignore her cries and left her to writhe in the pitch dark of her room as the space bit and clawed at her.

     Arryn could never quite forgive him for that night. Milo had found her the next morning tangled between her bed sheets, crying in her slumber. No one spoke of it again.

      Arryn reaches for her door handle, wincing as the rusted hinges creak. The sound travels down the empty hallway, bouncing between the pale walls and back. She leaves it open and tiptoes her way to the stairs.

       Hoping to loose herself in whatever shows Hawkins' stations air at the ass crack of dawn, Arryn stumbles her way, somewhat blindly towards the living room. She follows the sporadic beams of light that filter through the blinds, downcast on the wooden floor like a makeshift path way.

       Arryn reaches for the remote the moment she steps foot in the living room, however something stops her before she can sink into the plush pillows. Something shifts to her right, just beyond her peripheral and her stomach churns with panic.  She clasps the device betwixt her two palms, as though the plastic could miraculously shift into some convoluted defensive weapon.

The shadow shifts closer, and with a strangled yelp, she tosses the remote towards the figure. The person before her gives a startled grunt, one soon overshadowed by the unsettling crunch of their nose connecting with the plastic remote.

       The figure stumbles into the morning light in alarm and Will falls into view. Shit.

"Christ! Will I'm so sorry." Arryn clambers over the back of the sofa in a haste, slipping over the edge. Someone aught to put a bell on that kid. "Are you okay?"

Will can only nod, holding his head up towards the ceiling, a streak of crimson spilling onto his pale skin. Guilt coiled within her chest as Arryn fussed over the boy. She pulls him towards the kitchen, her hands hovering at his sides at all times, guarding him almost.

"I'm so sorry." Arryn gushes. She pulls a paper towel from the roll and shoves it into Will's hands. She hurries over to the freezer next, searching frantically for the frozen peas. Its what they did in the movies, after all. "Here, hold this against it. God, is it broken? Shit I can't afford for your nose to be broken."

"No, Arryn, it's not broken, relax." Will takes the peas somewhat out sympathy, he knows she needs him to more than he actually does. "It was an accident its fine. I was sneaking around your house, it's my fault."

In some backwards way, his apology makes Arryn feel worse. "Don't apologise, I shouldn't have thrown something."

Will hums, none committal and leans against the counter. He rests the peas against his nose, wincing as he does, and uses the free hand to prop himself up. The bleeding had stopped and Arryn could only hope that was a good sign.

"What were you doing up?" Arryn asks after a beat.

"Couldn't sleep." Will shrugs, "Milo was fast asleep so I thought I'd get a drink, my throat felt like the Sahara desert anyway." Arryn laughs lightly and Will smiles. "What about you?"

"I haven't actually gone to sleep yet." Arryn says and pours Will a glass of juice as she does. "Thought I could probably numb my mind to sleep with quality Hawkins tv. How come you couldn't sleep?"

"Nightmares I guess, they're pretty bad again lately."

Arryn nods in understanding, deciding to leave pressing further. Upon his return, Will was no stranger to monstrous dreams. She remembers vividly the nights Milo would shake her awake, something akin to unbridled terror in his eyes. He'd beg her to help him and yet Arryn could only watch in horror through her fatigue as Will wailed in his sleep, thrashing wildly. Milo had clung to her side, gripping at her pyjamas.

"He just started screaming." Milo cried, "he won't stop."

After that, Will wasn't permitted to stay over for a while, his mother had forbidden it until he got better. Arryn didn't dare ask what had happened to cause such a visceral stain on his subconscious and Milo never offered an explanation. So, when Will began showing up again, Arryn stupidly thought it had simply gone away.

Ironically, Arryn had been shunned and kept in the dark.

"When I get nightmares, I find it helps to make a list." Arryn says finally and Will turns to her, frowning. "When I wake up, to keep myself from spiralling, I list four things I can see, three I can touch and two I can smell. I keep repeating the list until I feel safer. Its stupid but it helps. Works for panic attacks too."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh, I'm like the expert in tips for panic attacks." Arryn says with a grin, though she supposes its not something she should be proud of. It's concerning more than anything, really. In fact it's almost quite sad. "It's worth a shot, it can't hurt to try it."

Will smiles and nods. "Yeah, exactly. Thanks, Arryn."

"Of course."

Will hands the peas back to the older girl and bids her goodnight (although its more of a good morning) and leaves for Milo's bedroom. He waves quickly before he disappears behind the dividing wall. Arryn finds herself alone again, isolated within the pale green walls of her kitchen.

Arryn decides there's no harm in placing the peas back in the freezer and shoves them further within the icy depths. Its not as though they've lost their value.

She makes her way back into the living room and slides onto the sofa, sinking into the fabric and she buries herself within the blanket Felix keeps on the back of the sofa. Her body is heavy, marred by a sudden exhaustion.

Arryn can hardly register the sudden shift in her body before her eyelids fall shut and her breathing evens out to soft intakes of air.

      "If I have to watch Steve flirt with another customer I might throw something heavy at him." Arryn confesses, entirely serious.

      Milo laughs in amusement, happily taking his ice cream as he does. "It can't be that bad, surely."

      Arryn shakes her head. "But it is. Robin has been keeping score, Milo, and it's very bad. Talking zero to four and that's just this morning."

      Milo sucks in a breath through his teeth, "yikes."

      "Exactly."

      "Well, have fun, I'm sure you'll survive." Milo grins, somewhat smug, and Arryn flips him off as he leaves the store.

"Wait, Milo." The boy pauses and turns back around. "Is everything okay? With Will I mean. He said he's having nightmares again."

      The conversation from the night prior weights heavy on her mind. His silence and erratic behaviour the evening in the parlour had also sprung to mind the moment he spoke of the less than favourable dreams. With all her current information gathered, concern naturally blossomed within her. The two weren't close, but he was her brother's best friend, and that surely had to count for something.

Milo's face shifts to some unreadable expression, his jaw taut. He falls quiet for a moment, as if contemplating carefully his next choice of words and Arryn frowns as the silence draws on. The bell above the door chimes then as a herd of new customers flood into the parlour.  Milo shakes his head, breaking his stupor. "He's fine, don't worry about it."

Milo is dismissive, though somewhat frazzled by his sister's question and leaves quickly. He's out the door before Arryn can question him any further. Arryn watches as his figure weaves between the masses, a quickened pace to his steps. It's curious, how quickly his mood shifted, however Arryn isn't given the opportunity to ponder it further as an impatient customer chimes the counter top bell.

      "Hey you still open?" The girl asks, an amused smirk tugging at her glossy lips. The two behind her giggle.

      Arryn drags a sharp breath through her teeth and forces her own smile. Relax. "One moment, please." She twists her feet, rotating slightly and shoves open the diving screen, poking her head through the space. "Steven, you're up!"

       The man in question kicks off his feet from where they were resting atop the table and turns to her, frowning incredulously. "Steven?" He asks, sighing as he does.

      Arryn merely shrugs, brushing past him into the break room. She tilts her head over her shoulder, glancing back momentarily. "You gave me a nickname, thought I'd return the favour."

       "Yeah yeah, just keep it down. Steven is not a name given to lady killers."

       Arryn grins, somewhat impishly and the realisation passes over Steve's face.

       "Hilarious." His tone says otherwise. "Super funny, please do continue to make fun of my failing love life."

        "We will." Robin adds in, lazily flicking through a magazine their boss gave them to keep them busy during their breaks. It's a shitty copy, there's pages missing and those that aren't are ridiculous crinkled, it's probably only there so none of the workers unionise over their poor work environment.

      Steve mumbles in protest to himself as slams through the door into the parlour and Arryn watches in amusement, a small smile playing at her lips.

      Something warm stirs in the pit of her chest, something different, but its a welcomed feeling. Arryn wants more, she needs it. Its as though she's been without it for so long, that a mere drop of it swells with in her, all encompassing, whispering enticing words of what could have been.

Its silly, to crave something so trivial, something so normal as this, but to Arryn its so fresh. It's new and for once, it's exciting.

To have friends...Arryn smiles at the thought.

(author's note!)

I have so many ideas for this fic but writing them is so exhausting, like lemme get to the good shit already christ the build is dull.

this chapter was deleted a lot and rewritten like four times because i hated it all. in the end i was on the verge of tears so i just had to leave it as this. i promise i'm writing this all for a reason it isn't just for shits and giggles. main takeaway: will and arryn = bi and gay solidarity.

thank you for the continuous support and thank you especially to those that consistently read and keep up with this story i hope u stick around!! i swear we're getting to the good stuff

also the wednesday adams trailer?? jenna?? cries it looks so good i will be making a fic.

(words: 2308)