WORD COUNT : 3.6k

"You can't be serious," Owen frowned, sure that Officer Callahan was playing some sort of annoying prank on her. Officer Powell had already left to go drive Jonathan's car to the police station, leaving Owen behind with this imbecile. Unfortunately, the officer's expression remained unchanged in spite of her disbelief, his blank gaze boring into hers.

"Miss Webb... I'm actually deadly serious. I will not let you into the squad car unless you're handcuffed," he assured her, making a point of swinging the metallic restraints right in front of her face.

"But I didn't even do anything! You've got no reason to cuff me," Owen argued stubbornly. Officer Callahan's matter-of-fact expression was almost annoying her more than the fact that she had to be constrained just to get a ride to the station for questioning.

"Look, I can see the bruising starting up on your knuckles right now. I don't know what the hell happened before we got here, but just be glad that you and Byers aren't in the same situation right now," the officer sighed, motioning to her hand. Owen glanced down at her hand, seeing the bruising that he was referring to. She crossed her arms suddenly, self-consciously tucking her hands out of sight. "It's for the safety of everyone in the car, okay? Just can't have you pulling shit once we're driving," he added, shrugging.

Owen glared at Officer Callahan, just hoping and praying that he would throw a little 'just kidding' in there at some point. But instead, the two of them were just standing in silence, staring at each other in the middle of that alley. Finally just giving up on the idea of riding to the police station without handcuffs, Owen let out a dramatic groan and stuck her wrists out for him. She rolled her eyes at the whole situation before she fixed her stare down the other end of the alley, where all the others had taken off once the cops arrived.

"Little young for a tattoo, aren't we," Officer Callahan muttered, linking the cuffs around her wrists. Owen's eyes immediately snapped to her where her hands were joined, the sleeves of her sweatshirt having rode up when she stuck her arms out. There, the three black zeros that had been scrawled on her wrist for as long as she could remember were on display. Her lips tightened into a scowl, lowering her now-cuffed hands in front of her.

"Little old to be poking around in teenagers' business, aren't we," Owen quipped, already beyond tired of being around this man. The officer let out an irritated sigh, turning to walk around the car and open the passenger door for her.

"Just get in the car, Owen," Officer Callahan grumbled, holding the door open with an exasperated look on his face. She wandered around the back of the car, sliding into her seat up front and allowing for Officer Callahan to buckle her in. He made sure to loudly slam her door before walking around to the driver's side.

"Well... this sucks," Owen sighed to Jonathan once it was just the two of them in the car. This was certainly not how any of them expected for the day to go. Understandably, she was just met with silence until Officer Callahan opened his door and slid in beside her.

"You guys listen to music," the officer asked as he cranked the car. Both of the teenagers just kept their gaze directed out of their respective windows, not having a reply for him. The silence that befell the car had the officer awkwardly smacking his lips together, leaving the radio untouched as he put the vehicle into reverse.

"No music then... got it," Officer Callahan mumbled to himself, backing them out of the alley and onto the road again. The three of them stubbornly rode to the station in complete silence.

✯

As it turns out, Owen wasn't able to just run in the complete opposite direction of Officer Callahan as soon as they arrived at the station. Although her handcuffs had been removed because she wasn't under arrest, Owen had still been locked in one of the interrogation rooms with him and Officer Powell. Owen was technically a witness, causing them to try and grill her about what exactly had happened out in the alley.

"As I've already told both of you, I didn't see shit in that alley," Owen informed them, clearly enunciating every word for a smart-alecky effect. She wasn't about to utter one single word that would have Jonathan in here longer than he needed to be. Her silence was the most valuable asset she had at that moment. "I'm afraid I won't be of much help in your investigation," she shrugged, leaning back nonchalantly in her seat.

"Miss Webb, I'm not sure you're acting in your own best interest here. You are currently protecting someone who assaulted a police officer. You do know that, right," Officer Powell reminded her, arching an eyebrow at her.

"I never saw that happen," Owen repeated, arms crossed in front of her chest. The three of them stared at one another in silence, just waiting for the other to budge. Owen cocked her head almost tauntingly when they all realized that they didn't have much else to ask her if that was the story she was sticking to. "Now, are you gonna let me go? Or am I gonna have to ask for an attorney," she queried, looking between them with an expectant look. Both of the officers stared incredulously at her before glancing down at their currently empty notepad. Officer Powell openly sighed, tossing the notepad onto the table in front of them and standing.

"If you're sure you didn't see anything, then I suppose you're free to go, Miss Webb," he relented. The officer stepped towards the door, begrudgingly opening it for her to leave. Officer Callahan all but gaped at him, brows furrowed together in a puzzled look. Seeing as he was the officer who was supposedly 'assaulted', he must've been feeling very wronged at that point. Owen really couldn't care less, just happy to be finally standing up from her own seat.

"Thank you so much for your time, officers. If you need me, I'll be in the office with my friends, waiting to get the hell out of here," she said dryly. Owen tried to walk out of the room, but Officer Callahan piped up again and effectively stopped her in her tracks.

"Don't hold your breath, Miss Webb. Byers isn't getting out of here any time soon," Officer Callahan butted in, the smugness heavy in his tone. Not even turning to look his way, Owen rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. She continued out of the room and wandered back down the hallway from which she came, just hoping that Callahan was wrong.

Jonathan and Nancy were sitting together when Owen returned to the station's main office area. A fond little smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she saw Nancy holding a bag of ice up to Jonathan's eye. The scene was sweet, despite Jonathan being literally handcuffed to the desk in front of them.

"Well, that went about as well as you could imagine," Owen muttered, pulling up a nearby seat to the desk at which they were sitting. The two teenagers looked at her worriedly, incredibly interested to hear what had gone on in the interrogation room.

"What did you tell them," Nancy asked, moving the ice back to her lap for a moment to keep Jonathan from freezing.

"Nothing," Owen replied simply, shrugging. "I just told them I didn't see anything."

Jonathan and Nancy blinked at her in temporary disbelief.

"That worked? They just believed you?" Jonathan gaped, unsure of what game the officers must be playing at. Owen being present for the fight, but reportedly seeing absolutely none of it was nearly impossible. He knew that, the officers knew that, and even Owen knew that. There must be some reason why they just let her walk out of there without a bigger story.

"I just don't think they wanted me to ask for a lawyer," Owen confessed quietly, giving them a shrug. Those two officers may have had their asses handed to them by an attorney one too many times. At this point, they probably just preferred to pick and choose their battles. Getting a story about this fight out of Owen Webb just seemed to be a battle they didn't have the energy for. Owen's theory about her escape from the interrogation room caused the three of them to all quietly chuckle amongst themselves. Their giggles only ceased once Officer Powell and Officer Callahan strolled back into the room, making sure to eye the group suspiciously before they merely returned to their desks.

A comfortable quietness overtook the office, with everyone returning to their work. Someone had just started a fresh pot of coffee, someone was scribbling something down on a paper nearby, and that familiar sound of someone tapping on a typewriter filled the space. Nancy raised the ice pack to Jonathan's face again, pressing lightly to the darkening bruise there. If one could forget where exactly they were, it was almost peaceful within the police station. Unfortunately, this peace allowed for Owen's mind to run, her brain reminding her that Gordon's car was still parked across the street from the Wheelers' house. Not imagining that she would be gone too long, Owen hadn't even left her brother a note explaining where the hell his car was. Her eyes peeked at the clock hanging on the wall, lips thinning tightly when she realized that he was definitely awake and wondering where the hell she was.

"Hey! Jonathan? Jesus, what... what happened," a raspy female voice shattered the peace in the room. Everyone looked up just in time to see Joyce Byers storming into the office with a huge man in a flannel trailing close behind her.

"Ma'am..." Officer Callahan sighed, standing up from his desk.

"I'm fine," Jonathan assured his mom, sounding almost sheepish at being caught cuffed in a police station.

"Why is he wearing handcuffs," Ms. Byers demanded, her eyes flashing angrily at Officer Callahan.

"Well, your boy assaulted a police officer. That's why," Officer Callahan responded condescendingly. His tone had one edge of Owen's lip curling in disgust, not liking that tone one bit.

"Take them off," the older woman snapped.

"I am afraid I cannot do that," Callahan held, giving her a sarcastically slow blink.

"Take them off!" Her volume increased tenfold, making sure the entire building knew how upset she was with the current situation.

"You heard her. Take 'em off," the man behind her suddenly boomed authoritatively. Owen's eyes widened at him ordering the officers around like that, not really wanting to be a part of some huge handcuffing altercation again today.

"Chief, I get everyone's emotional here, but there's something you need to see," Officer Powell finally spoke up. Some of the tension fell from Owen's shoulders after the large man was identified. Part of her was just thankful that Callahan and Powell weren't the only two people in charge of the law in this town. The chief of police let out a heavy sigh, hands coming to rest on his hips.

"This better be quick, Powell," he muttered, letting Officer Callahan and Officer Powell step past him to lead him out to the parking lot. Owen's arms were tucked loosely over her chest as she awaited their return from whatever it was that the chief needed to see now, of all times. Once the three men stepped out, Owen felt Nancy's hand nudge her leg beneath the table. Owen's dark eyes snapped over to the girl beside her curiously.

"The tools," Nancy mouthed, not wanting Ms. Byers to overhear them while she was scolding Jonathan. Owen's face melted into a look of pure dread, her gaze darting towards the front door. Realizing there wasn't much they could do now, Owen's head rolled back against her shoulders as she dramatically stared at the ceiling. God, they were screwed.

Just a few minutes later, the three men returned with the teenagers' noisy box full of equipment, slamming it onto the desk in front of them. Jonathan, Nancy, and Owen studied the box in front of them hesitantly. Ms. Byers peeked inside, examining the box's totally suspicious contents.

"What is this," Ms Byers wondered, loudly jostling the bear trap around to see everything in the box. Owen was really starting to regret picking up that bear trap of all things.

"Why don't you ask your son? We found it in his car," the chief stated gruffly.

"What?" Ms. Byers gasped, turning quickly to look at her son.

"Why are you going through my car," Jonathan burst, aggressively leaning forward in his seat in spite of his locked up hands.

"Is that really the question you should be asking right now," the chief retorted, leaning forward and getting in Jonathan's face. The man's attention wasn't even directed at her, but Owen felt intimidated. She could definitely see why he was the chief around here. "I wanna see you in my office," the large man ordered, pushing off of the desk to step away.

"You won't believe me," Jonathan admitted in a weak, panicky voice. Both Owen and Nancy glanced over at him. Surely he wasn't going to try and explain all of their findings to the chief of police. His story paired with all of the dangerous shit in the back of his car would just make him sound like a violent basketcase. If that was his plan, Jonathan was never getting out of those damn handcuffs.

The chief looked back at him with a daring look on his face, leaning his weight onto the desk once more. "Why don't you give me a try," he countered in a softer voice. Owen's eyes lowered, not at all confident that this talk with the police chief would work out in their favor. Still, she couldn't help but peek up to watch Officer Callahan reluctantly remove Jonathan's handcuffs. If she wasn't so bogged down with dread about this talk with the chief, the sight would have almost made her smile. Instead, Owen found herself dragging her feet down the hallway as she followed everyone to the police chief's office.

Jonathan, Nancy, and Owen all squeezed onto the office's tiny couch together as the door was shut behind them. Ms. Byers sat across from them, brows knitted together in an intense frown. The chief crossed the room, coming to lean against his desk with his hands clasped loosely in front of him.

"My name's Jim Hopper. I'm chief of police here in Hawkins," the large man introduced himself, politely sticking a hand out for Owen to shake. She stared at him for a second before she cautiously reached out to return the handshake.

"I'm Owen Webb. I just moved here," she replied quietly. Owen's eyes darted over to Jonathan's mom before she quickly averted her attention elsewhere. Owen wasn't sure how to address the feeling of knowing someone before they knew you. She had seen and heard all about Jonathan's mom, but had never exactly gotten the chance to actually speak with her. It was an odd sensation, but Ms. Byers took it in stride.

"I'm Joyce. I'm Jonathan and..." the woman trailed off for a split second, her face flickering with the same lost look that Owen had seen at the funeral. "Jonathan and Will's mom. If you couldn't tell," Joyce finished with a humorless chuckle.

"Now, you kids better have a damn good explanation for all of that stuff we found in the back of Jonathan's car," Chief Hopper warned, giving each of the kids a dubious look. Jonathan and Nancy mostly led the story, being the only ones to have actually experienced it all firsthand. They both described everything in detail, even going into the various theories they had all cumulated. Luckily, Nancy had even kept that enhanced picture of the monster in her bag, pulling it out to show Joyce and Chief Hopper. As with everyone they had told about this thing, the two adults took a few minutes of silence to actually process everything they were hearing.

"It's a lot. Take your time," Owen acknowledged, giving them a lopsided smile. Jonathan was chewing nervously at his fingernails, his leg bouncing beneath him. Nancy just looked to be on the brink of tears, obviously worried that this would all blow up in their faces. Joyce and Chief Hopper kept passing the picture of the monster back and forth to one another, studying it closely every time.

"You say blood draws this thing," Chief Hopper verified, looking up at the group of teenagers through raised eyebrows.

"We don't know," Jonathan answered breathlessly.

"It's just a theory," Nancy added, shaking her head.

However, none of them could stomach making direct eye contact with Joyce. Her dark eyes were boring into Jonathan specifically, with that oh-so-familiar look to let him know he was in big, big trouble.

"Could I have a moment to speak to Jonathan," Joyce gritted, already standing up from her seat before anyone could answer. Without even a word of resistance, Jonathan also stood and accompanied her into the hallway. Clearly, the pair had not stepped too far away as the remaining three in the room could hear Joyce's muffled scolding through the walls. However, Joyce's voice wasn't the only one filtering all the way into Chief Hopper's office. A much more shrill voice was echoing down the hall, kicking Hopper into action. He hurriedly marched to the door, throwing it open and effectively increasing the volume of the shouting woman.

"Stay here," Hopper ordered the group, sighing frustratedly at the interruption. The door shut behind him, closing Nancy and Owen in his office. The two girls cast a look at one another, cautiously optimistic after their interaction with the adults.

"That could've gone way worse," Owen shrugged, not quite sure how to feel yet. Nancy nodded slowly in agreement.

"I mean, I figured Jonathan's mom would believe us. But Chief Hopper? I mean... how much does he know about all of this, y'know? What gives him a reason to believe us," Nancy wondered aloud, hands dragging tiredly across her face. As usual, Nancy had a point. Since entering Hopper's office, the three teenagers had done all of the talking. But Owen was suddenly very curious about Hopper and Joyce's side of the story. She was sure their perspective would just connect even more dots of this absolutely insane story.

"I'm just glad we're not being tossed in the loony bin, personally," Owen mumbled, chuckling lightly. The corners of Nancy's lips curved softly as she peeked over at Owen from the other side of the couch. The door bursting open once again tore their attention away from one another, refocusing on Hopper as he hung in the doorway.

"C'mon, girls. We've gotta get out here," Hopper informed them, some car keys already held tightly in his grip. Owen and Nancy stared at him in disbelief, unsure if he was being serious about their sudden getaway.

"What about Jonathan," Nancy asked, quickly coming to her senses.

"He's coming with us," Hopper confirmed, stepping out of the doorway and waving the girls to follow through. "Now, come on. We've got to go. Now," he ordered in that same intimidating voice he had used earlier. His tone had the girls vacating from the couch immediately, dipping beneath his arm that was braced in the doorway to rush down the hallway.

"Where are we going exactly," Owen tried to clarify. Although, clearly, she wasn't too worried about it, as she continued to hurriedly follow the rest of the group out of the building.

"You'll find out when we get there," Hopper quipped, sliding into the driver's side of Jonathan's beige Ford that was in the parking lot. 

"Well, that's suspicious," Owen muttered, waiting her turn to climb into the car. She peered around Jonathan's back, instantly noticing that there were only two real seats in the back. Nancy had already climbed into the furthest seat, leaving one seat and the pathetic half-seat in between for Jonathan and Owen.

The lack of seating had Jonathan peeking back at Owen before he climbed in, unsure of what she wanted to do about the seating arrangement. The two of them just stared at each other in a silent argument over the last seat for a moment before Owen sighed dramatically.

"Fine, I'll sit in the middle," the pink-haired girl relented, lightly pushing Jonathan out of the way so that she could climb in. Jonathan followed in after her, making the cramped nature of the backseat very apparent. Once Jonathan's door was shut behind him, the teenagers were effectively crowded together in a clash of knees and elbows.

"Um, Chief Hopper... Look, I know we're in a hurry for some unknown reason, but if you could drive this thing as safely as possible, it would be greatly appreciated. Some of us don't have seatbelts," Owen reminded him, exclusively referring to herself at that point. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he took the suggestion to heart as he sent the car into reverse without even a cursory glance over his shoulder.

"I'll be sure to get you there in one piece, Owen. Don't you worry," Hopper acknowledged, not exactly giving Owen the warm fuzzies with the distracted tone of his voice. Joyce peered at her from over her shoulder, giving one of those motherly, reassuring smiles – almost making Owen believe she would actually survive this mystery road trip.