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CHAPTER TWELVE
the writing on the wall
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( the monster, pt. iii )

+ content warning: racial slurs, homophobia

• °:.☆ . ₊°• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

LAURA IS SURPRISED to see Nancy and Jonathan waiting for her when she clocks out of her shift. She almost misses them standing out front, leaning against the wall between the diner and the Payless ShoeSource next door. Expecting to find her dad's car parked in its usual spot, she frowns when she finds it empty.

"Laur!" Nancy calls, directing her attention to them.

Laura tugs her dad's trucker jacket closer to her. Her exposed legs make the wind feel like ice. "Oh, hey. What're you guys doing here?"

"Monster hunting."

Jonathan holds up several paper bags from the local hardware store instead of an explanation. He allows her to peer inside one of them, where she sees a collection of mallet-type hammers, animal traps, and lighter fluid. She can't even guess what the others contain from the jumbled mess inside this one.

She shivers, bouncing up and down in an attempt to ward off the chill that's making her feel more ice cube than human being. "Are you asking me to come along? Because I only have one uniform, and I'm not getting it covered in monster sludge."

Nancy eyes the goosebumps prevalent on Laura's bare legs and nods in understanding. "We can head back to your place first so you can change."

Laura gives her a grateful smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, half because the frigid air is already making her cheeks feel numb, and partially because of how shitty her shift had been. Maybe whacking the shit out of a freakishly tall monster is exactly what she needs right now. Especially if she imagines that it wears Carol's face.

She'd feel better if she had her dad's rifle, but it's still in the Wheeler's garage, covered in muck. She has to remember to clean it and put the case back before he notices it's missing. Plus, it's not like Nancy and Jonathan aren't well-prepared; they'd clearly bought enough supplies for the apocalypse.

A car drives by, its horn blaring as it passes them. A boy calls out from the window, "Hey, Nance! Can't wait to see your movie!"

He cackles and speeds off. The trio watches it in confusion as it disappears around a corner, his words still lingering in the air, prickling the backs of their necks like phantoms.

"What the hell was that?" Jonathan asks.

"I don't know," Nancy replies, her brows pinched as she stares in the direction the car had come from. Her eyes search for a few moments before her face falls slack in realization.

"Nance?" Laura asks. The expression on her friend's face makes her uneasy.

"What?" Jonathan questions when she still doesn't respond, trying to discern what she's looking at by tracking her gaze down the block.

Then Nancy starts walking, hesitantly at first, one foot moving cautiously in front of the other. She gradually becomes more frantic in her motions until she's jogging, then sprinting down Main Street, dodging passersby and street lamps on the sidewalk.

"Wha—? Nance!" Laura calls after her. She's thankful for her white work Skechers, which make chasing after her easier, though her movements are clumsy as she tries to tug her unzipped coat around her as she moves. The wind cuts into her like razor blades where the worn sherpa interior doesn't protect her.

Jonathan is beside her in an instant. He's not very athletic, but his long legs propel him quickly down the road even as he wheezes a bit in response to the exercise. What a scene this must be— Laura in her canary yellow waitress uniform and an oversized trucker jacket and Jonathan Byers, one of the most unlikely duos in Hawkins, booking it past shops and alleys.

His voice is slightly strained when he shouts, "Hey! Where are you going? Nancy, wait!"

Oblivious to their protests, Nancy crosses the street toward the Hawk Theater. Conversely, Laura screeches to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk so suddenly that pain shoots up her ankles. The sign displays the newest picture — All the Right Moves — but there's a horrific addition: the words "STARRING NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER" in dripping red spray paint.

Nancy stares up at the sign, and Laura doesn't have to see her face to know the exact expression she's wearing. Her mouth is pinched, her features screwed up in mortification. Her hands curl into fists at her sides.

"Jesus," Jonathan says between heavy pants. He places a hand on Laura's shoulder, urging her forward. "C'mon."

They quickly cross the traffic to join Nancy, whose head swivels around, observing the stragglers gaping at the vandalized words. The theater workers stand below the sign, grumbling about "those kids."

Laura's vision goes as red as the paint.

The sound of a spray can hissing and Tommy's resulting laughter grabs their attention. Nancy's jaw clenches. Then she surges forward in the direction of the noise, ignoring Jonathan's cry to wait as she thunders toward the alleyway next to the theater. Laura immediately follows. Not only is she itching to give the culprits a piece of her mind, unlike she did at the restaurant, but she wants to make sure Nancy doesn't get hurt.

"Tommy, you write like a three-year-old," Carol's voice jeers.

"Shut up!" Tommy fires back.

Another girl's voice teases, her voice echoing off the high walls, "I didn't know you could spell."

Indistinct chatter and laughter follow from the group's position about halfway down the alleyway. Tommy stands on the steps of a side door, spray painting something along the wall while Carol, Steve, and the other girl watch. Steve's shiny car is parked next to them.

Nancy watches them for a moment before starting toward them, her steps purposeful, powerful, as her boots strike the cracked pavement. Her curled ponytail swings back and forth like a metronome in time with her movements.

"Aww," Carol coos at the sight of her, flashing Nancy a falsely sweet smile, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket, "hey there, princess!"

"Uh-oh!" Tommy exclaims. "She looks upset."

Laura eyes the sloppily-written words he'd painted. 'Byers is a perv.'

Steve walks forward to intercept Nancy. The two regard each other for a tense moment before Nancy's hand moves in a flash, striking him across the face in a resounding slap! that echoes along the walls confining them.

Steve's goons cry out in theatrical sounds of protest. As Laura leers at their stupid faces, she wishes that she had dumped their milkshakes over their heads. Maybe Carol would've been so devastated that she would have demanded that Tommy take her home so she could wash the strawberry out of her strawberry-blonde hair. Maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"What is wrong with you?" Nancy demands.

"What's wrong with me?" Steve fires back, his pale skin quickly reddening from the smack, "What's wrong with you? I was worried about you." He scoffs. "I can't believe that I was actually worried about you."

"What are you talking about?"

Carol steps forward, her eyes shimmering with mirth. "I wouldn't lie if I were you. You don't want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?"

"You watch your mouth," Laura sneers. Carol retracts her step, much to her amusement, and her smile falters for a moment.

"Speak of the devil," Tommy says. Laura looks over her shoulder to see Jonathan joining them, moving less assuredly, already half tucked into himself. Tommy grins and hops down from the step, putting a cigarette to his lips. "Hi."

"You came by last night?" Nancy asks Steve.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" Carol chimes. "Does she get a prize?"

Laura's hands curl into fists, trembling both with rage and the restraint it takes not to punch her in the face. She is not a violent person. But with everything that has happened in the past few days, slowly building up into a crescendo, she wonders if she might crack.

"Look, I don't know what you think you saw, but it wasn't like that."

"What, you just let him into your room to... study?" Steve asks. "Or for another pervy photo session?"

"I was there, too," Laura says. "Whenever you decided to drop by unannounced, it must've been while I was in the hallway."

"Ooh, you forming a harem or something, Byers?" Tommy throws his arm around Carol, speaking around his cigarette that streams acrid smoke into the air. "Didn't think you'd be into chi—"

The racial slur he hurls about Laura hits her like Nancy's slap hit Steve— directly, unexpectedly, and leaving behind a burning sensation that makes her flush as if she actually had been smacked.

Steve holds a hand out to him. "Chill it, man."

"What?" Tommy asks jovially. He looks down at Carol. "Maybe we were more right on at the diner than we thought, huh?"

Carol laughs, staring Laura down, her expression taunting her to retaliate now that she has her boyfriend's arm around her. Laura holds her gaze, refusing to back down even though it makes her feel like insects are crawling along the back of her neck.

"We were just—" Nancy begins, but Steve cuts her off.

"You were just what?" he asks. "Finish that sentence." When Nancy sputters, knowing she can't just start spouting the details of inter-dimensional monsters in front of everyone, he repeats more slowly, his words biting, "Finish. The sentence."

It's clear he thinks that Laura is covering for Nancy like she usually does. Even though it's true that she's lied for Nancy before, this is not one of those times, but she isn't sure how to prove it. Steve hadn't seen her. There's no evidence she was there that night.

Steve shakes his head. "Go to hell, Nancy."

He turns around, scoffing. As soon as he steps away, Jonathan reaches forward and pulls Nancy back. "Come on, Nancy, let's just leave."

But as soon as he does, Steve whirls back around, words firing from his mouth like he's been waiting for an opportunity to spew them out. "You know what, Byers? I'm actually kind of impressed." He shoves Jonathan back as the trio attempts to retreat. "I always took you for a queer, but I guess you're just a little screw-up like your father."

Laura looks over her shoulder to give Steve a cutthroat glare, reaching for the sleeve of Jonathan's corduroy jacket to pull him along. Steve continues to follow, pushing the boy and causing him to stumble as he walks.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups."

Jonathan stops. Laura tugs at his sleeve again, mumbling, "Come on."

But Steve continues his taunts. "You know, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family."

Noticing how he's letting the words sink into his skin, Nancy exclaims, "Jonathan, leave it."

"I mean, your mom... I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother."

Laura flinches, turning around to fully glare at Steve in the face, her narrowed eyes like lasers.

"Steve, shut up!" Nancy seethes.

"I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it's a disgrace to the entire—"

Jonathan moves as fast as lightning, and before Laura can blink, he whirls around, his fist striking Steve straight in the nose with a grunt. Steve stumbles and trips over his own two feet. He manages to catch himself on a metal bar, catching his breath for a few seconds before tackling Jonathan. His spine slams against the hood of the car with a sickening thud.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Steve!" Nancy cries.

Steve ignores her, throwing Jonathan onto the ground. Laura can't stand by and watch this. She darts forward to pull them apart before things get worse, but Tommy grabs her before she can and shoves her back toward Nancy with a hiss of, "Go stay by your girlfriend."

Nancy catches Laura and holds her by the forearms, both supporting her and keeping her in place lest she tries to intervene again. Something tells them that Tommy won't be so... kind the second time.

Jonathan manages to roll them over and get the upper hand for a split second, only for Steve to jam his knee where the sun doesn't shine. But Jonathan is tougher than any of them had given him credit for. He's back up in a flash, throwing a right hook that sends Steve sprawling back into the car.

Because the score is not in his friend's favor, Tommy decides that he will save the day. He steps between the two and pushes Jonathan backward, but Steve waves his hand at him and the girls, yelling, "Hey! Get out of here! Get out of here!"

Jonathan takes another wild swing that Steve ducks under. He pops back up and lands his first punch, but Jonathan hits back, his punches less structured, no form, all emotion.

"Jonathan, stop!" Nancy screams over them. "Stop! You're going to hurt him!"

Laura decides that it's not a good time to suggest that he deserves it. Sometimes, people like Steve just need to get the shit beat out of them to knock them off their pedestals.

She doesn't know much about fighting, but she does think that there is a point where it becomes less warranted to keep it going. There's a line between acting on impulse and letting your emotions take over. Laura senses the change in the air the moment Steve crumples to the ground like a rag doll, his lip split and his eye already purple, and Jonathan pounces on him, still swinging. Blood splatters on the pavement from a gruesome cut near Steve's eye.

A siren wails, drowning out the sound of Nancy still begging them to stop. Laura looks up to see a police car turning into the alley.

"Cops!" Tommy cries.

"Rats," Laura mutters.

Carol and the other girl flee like — ha — rats scattering a flaming ship. To Tommy's credit, he still tries to break up the fight, yelling, "Hey, he's had enough, man! I said he's had enough!"

Jonathan shoves him away and continues making a mess of Steve's face. He's not even trying to defend himself anymore, instead laying motionless on the pavement, fighting to stay conscious.

Laura takes a chance and tries physically dragging Jonathan back by looping her arms around his middle and pulling. It results in both of them tumbling backward onto the freezing asphalt. For a moment, Laura feels like she'd succeeded in accomplishing something, but then Jonathan is back to throwing punches with reckless abandon, moving on autopilot, a machine that can't be stopped.

"Hey! Kids! All right!" A deputy rushes toward them with his hands outstretched. From her spot on the ground, Laura recognizes Callahan the split second before Jonathan's hand shoves him back into the car with a palm-heel-strike to the face. "Oh! My nose!"

Officer Powell is the one to successfully snatch Jonathan up, still swinging like a rabid cat that hisses and claws in search of freedom.

"Pin him down!" he exclaims as he wrestles the boy over to the hood of the police car. Callahan moves to help him, and Steve and Tommy seize the opportunity to run.

Callahan chases after them, shouting, "Uh-uh, uh-uh! Come here, little guys! Come here!"

Nancy hauls Laura to her feet. She buries her face in one hand, squeezing her eyes shut, wondering how things could have gone so wrong so quickly.

"I got this one!" Powell calls to his partner.

Callahan is still chasing the boys, their figures disappearing down the alley as he yells, "Get back here! Get back here, you little punks!"

As Jonathan is secured in handcuffs and Steve's blood gleams in drying blotches of crimson on the pavement, Nancy turns to Laura. "I get it now. I'm sorry."

________

a/n:

carol and tommy can catch these hands part two😤

i made this meme and i hope you guys like it

as always, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed the chapter! there are only two more episodes left, which is CRAZY. i'm excited for you guys to see how laura will fit into the big conclusion!

— kristyn

( word count: 2.7k )