I finished my fan fiction 🥰🥰🥰 For anyone who wants to read it, I'll post links so they can do it in order/more easily. Obviously, it's a work forbidden to minors, and I strongly advise against reading it. I'm not a native speaker, so please be patient...
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 3 🔁 1 ❤️ 5 · and now... my idea (I was supposed to write it tomorrow but the plans
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 4 · Episode 10
Henry wakes up and starts wondering if you were chosen for
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 11 🔁 1 ❤️ 3 · Part 18 ( 2) The same applies as in the first part of today's post. S
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 3 🔁 1 ❤️ 8 · Part 28 explicit sex scenes. 🔞🔞🔞🔞
You've never slept so well after se
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 5 🔁 1 ❤️ 6 · Part 35 violence typical of the canon , explicit sex🔞🔞🔞
You wake up e
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 2 🔁 1 ❤️ 2 · Part 43 Soft descriptions of childbirth. Soft. But it's not for minors
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... И когда ты откроешь глаза, он будет здесь, по эту сторону, чтобы сопроводить тебя в Цирк и познакомить со своими талантливыми, беспамятными чудовищами. Примешь ли ты его приглашение? Рискнёшь приоткрыть завесу тайны и сделать первый шаг в Изнанку?
Tag NSFW/18+ Post-traumatic stress disorder, autistic traits, tobacco use, references to psychotropic drugs. Male masturbation.
In the morning you wake up, take a shower (Brenner is terrible at choosing body wash too. That neutral shower gel just can't be tolerated) then you bravely open the closet and search your new wardrobe for an outfit that's less pitiful than the others. In vain. You lay out blouses, serious skirts, boring dresses on the bed, cursing the 40s in your mind. Ugly, ugly, uglier, very ugly. Your clothes all fit you badly and not a single one is worth saving. But couldn't Brenner have updated himself? In the end, disheartened, you put on the least bad outfit even though you know the entire campus will laugh at you mercilessly. You wear a white dress with a sailor collar, let your hair down and put on patent leather shoes, longing for the clothes of the old y/n. Oh, not the punk. But the cool girl. That way you look like a stern college girl. You pack everything else in your suitcase and then go out. Thomas is waiting for you, looking at you in amazement. Let's start off well. "Brenner has terrible taste in fashion," you explain, but the man doesn't flinch. "Let's go get breakfast. I'll bring this," he says, taking the bag. When you enter the cafeteria, you miss the gray overalls you couldn't find in the morning (Brenner probably guessed you wanted to steal them) because the cafeteria is full of people. Orderliers, guards, and patients are all there eating. People you've never seen, at least not there. The former are dressed in white, the latter in black, the latter in the overalls you're bitterly regretting. "Sorry, but who are all these people? I was alone last time! Why are they here?" you ask in a plaintive voice. Thomas looks at you with pity. "Brenner calls it adaptation. He thinks a new patient needs to be alone as soon as he arrives. It creates a more relaxed atmosphere. In any case, the beginning of therapy involves individual cycles, then group cycles." Group cycles. Always better. Brenner has a disturbed mind. "I want a private corner. For the dress. I am ashamed" you say harshly. Thomas looks at you surprised but obeys. You sit alone to wait for him, then eat quickly and in silence, eager to get away. But you feel the eyes of all the other patients on you. Or maybe it's just an impression.But when you leave the canteen you feel much better.You walk briskly down the corridor, eager to say goodbye to Brenner and get away from the hospital, at least for a while. When you enter, however, your heart skips a beat. Brenner isn't alone.
Henry hates the sound of the telephone.He interrupts his routine and his peace with that annoying, incessant ringing that forces a person to do only one thing, the thing they don't want to do. Answer. Over the years, Brenner has tried to cure his aversion to the phone by sending him to answer the hospital switchboard for a while. To no avail. The aversion never went away, it only got worse. So, cursing the world, Henry takes that infernal device and answers. On the other end of the line is the last person he wants to hear that morning: PAPA. "Son, I remind you that today is the day of our monthly meeting," Brenner says calmly. Their monthly meeting. Henry is not stupid. He marked it on his calendar and also in his personal diary, but his mind has tried to hide that unwelcome meeting. Once a month, only once a month, Brenner invites him for what he calls "an informal chat." In reality, it's more like an interrogation. How are you? What do you do? What do you eat? How's work going? Are you in a stable relationship? Do you have friends? You have a social life. What, do you still smoke? In those moments, Henry realizes that he can be a professor all he wants, but he's still Papa's patient even though he's off medication and was discharged ten years ago. "I know. I'm coming. Same time," he says and hangs up. He already knows that Papa, after that gesture, has filled out at least ten lines that include chronic asociality, hatred of the telephone, autistic traits, and chain smoker. Maybe it's just to spite Papa that he lights another cigarette. He knows Brenner hates the smell of that faint hint of smoke.
Henry puts out his cigarette, has a quick breakfast, then gets in the car and heads to the hospital. He parks perfectly, then gets out and stares at the immense structure where he's spent almost half his life undergoing more or less invasive tests. His first thought, however, is for you. How are you? Where are you right now? Are you okay? Did Papa dare to hurt you? Henry doesn't believe it, but the meaning of the word "cure" isn't the same between him and Brenner. Annoyed, he enters the lab and walks the corridors. He ignores all the nurses. The one he had an affair with years ago is gone. He doesn't know where. Sometimes he feels a slight melancholy, sometimes his thoughts turn more to Patty. To the future that was taken away from them both, but not today. He searches for you in the crowd but only notices Owens holding the hand of a sullen teenager, a black-haired orderly, a stoned woman, and some children. But not you. You're not there. Where are you? Henry knows everyone is looking at him. He's a beautiful man, dressed in a refined way that doesn't fit in with all that white. Then he knocks on Brenner's door and enters. The man looks up from the documents. EEGs. But they could be anyone's. After all, this place is a hospital. "Son? Come in. Nice suit. Oh, put the hat on the hanger. You know I hate it leaning on the desk." Henry obeys with a grimace. Dad is full of obsessions. He thinks hats are a bad omen. "You look good. How are you? Don't tell me you've been smoking again! You should stop!" he accuses him. Henry maintains a cool, professional demeanor. "I'm a grown man, Dad, and a teacher. It's not a joint. I don't do that kind of thing. It's just innocent tobacco. I've took much worse in here," an accusation. Brenner looks at him, "It was just drugs. That thing you keep smoking, son, is poison for your poor lungs. Find another hobby! Are you dating anyone? Do you have any friends? Don't tell me you still spend your time with quantum physics books and Captain Midnight! You need to socialize, Henry." Henry looks at him hard. "You know it's always been difficult for me. I only had Patty and then that nurse." Brenner stares at him mockingly. "A teenage crush and an easy fuck. I'm talking about friends, Henry! People to hang out with! Is it possible that no coworker is right for you? You had friends in Nevada," he says calmly. This triggers his anger. Because yes. He had friends, once upon a time.
Henry grips the edge of the desk tightly with his hands. "I was eight," he accuses him. But he still remembers what happened. He got lost in a cave after not following the scout leader's instructions. A friend of his was seriously injured while trying to find him and lost the use of his legs. Henry was kicked out of the scouts for this and has had no friends since. Because of this incident, his parents moved to Indiana. Brenner continues. "Now you're forty. I mean, does no one inspire you? Humans need to socialize," he accuses him. "Excuse me, but do you see me hanging out with Tanner and Potter?" Brenner shakes his head. "Those two mummies? No. But Joyce, Hopper, Bob... why not them?" Because they remind me of high school. Because when they look me in the eyes, they don't see Professor Creel but the poor little boy whose parents died and I can't stand it . "There's no one who inspires me. Except..." Here Henry thinks of you. Of your rebellious and defiant ways. Of your fear. Of your trauma. Then he awkwardly tries to change the subject. "How is Y/N? Did she cause problems?" But Brenner is a genius. He immediately understands what's unsaid. "Henry. When I talked about socializing, I didn't talk about ruining everything with one of your students! Shut up! I see how you look at her. Like a little thing to protect. It's a dangerous game. Is she the product of your own pain? In part. But I remind you that a teacher cannot have a relationship with a student. I saved you with that Krissy incident. I won't put in a good word for you if you make the same mistake, let's be clear. So get Y/N out of your head. And that's not advice." Henry's cheeks turn red as fire. But he looks at Brenner angrily. "I have no feelings for that little girl. I just want to know how she is. I have the right to do so as her teacher." Brenner smiles mockingly. "I warned you. Don't play with fire or you'll get burned, like Icarus. In any case, Y/N is fine. She hasn't suffered any irreversible damage. But you'll have the detailed report to discuss in the faculty meeting." That's when the door to Brenner's office opens. Henry turns and sees you standing there in the doorway. But you're unrecognizable.
Unrecognizable and beautiful. Henry feels a lump in his throat and his groin throb. Not that you weren't beautiful before, but you were wearing a mask. Now the mask has fallen and you are... simply you. You no longer wear those punk clothes that look better on Kali. You have a slightly retro dress that suits you very well, though. You no longer have that red hair. Your hair is a warm chocolate color. He wants to caress you. You are even more irresistible. Not a caricature of yourself, but yourself. And that's the difference. He wants to kiss you. He wants to do everything to you. Henry is not a virgin. He lost his virginity very early, when he was little more than a boy. Then he had that relationship and often knows the solitary pleasure that her hand can give him. But now... now... he swallows empty. You, on the other hand, are almost as red as him, and Brenner doesn't look away, amused. "Oh, y/n! We were just talking about you! Come on. Do you like my gift?" At those words, you blush even more, and Henry wonders what gift Papa is referring to. When he gives gifts, his manipulation begins. Every gift given to Henry was followed by a punishment for when he misbehaved. Brenner called him a carrot and stick. But it's just manipulation. "I... they're not my style, but... it's okay," you say, but Henry sees that you want to say that the gift sucks. Brenner smiles. "They're more respectable clothes than your old punk clothes." Henry understands, so Brenner has redone your wardrobe.
He's amazed , but he understands the logic behind this choice: the clothes you were wearing were too rebellious and unreliable in a treatment setting. Demolishing your armor is the first step in therapy. Henry knows him well. In his case, he had been placed in a room with a talkative child to break down his selective mutism... a child who loved Captain Midnight and comics. After four months, Henry had started talking again. Then the child mysteriously disappeared. He had probably never been a patient. So in your case, Brenner started with the wardrobe. "The sailor suit suits you," Brenner says, waiting for your reaction, which is not long in coming. "Well, I... yes, thank you... a little old-fashioned, but..." Here you stop. So different from the rebel who left two days earlier. So... sweet and insecure. Henry looks at you carefully. Did something else happen? An electric shock? Toxins? They usually leave the patient stunned. Henry knows this well. But that's when Papa drops the bombshell. "Well, Henry, since you're here and you have to go to the same place, why don't you take Y/N to campus?" A stunned silence falls on the room. Brenner smiles and Henry understands that it's a test. Whether for him or for you, Henry doesn't know. But he knows it's a dirty trick. But he can't refuse. "I... gladly," he says coldly, while thinking anxiously about your vanilla perfume, all too close to him. One thing he's sure of is that Papa has just started a new game.
I kept the original cave scene (well, the one from Stranger Things 5) but I gave it a logical vision in a world without Mindflyer. For the injured friend, I recovered it from the early versions of TFS, even if he was just a neighbor (removed scene).
About the phone... I hate it when it rings!!! It irritates me!!!👿👿👿👿👿 I put this little part of me in it🤣 it's call telefonofobia
Brenner is wrong about many things..but he's right about smoking...it's bad for you!!!
Brenner is a superstitious man (there is a superstition that if you put a hat on top of the bed or on a desk, it brings bad luck, especially the first case).
@nocasdatsgay @cinnamongirldances88
I would have liked a dreamlike comparison between mister whatsit and brenner... (or at least between vecna and brenner... increasingly robbed)
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Tropes & Themes: Forbidden Romance / Phantom Lover, The Monster and the Anchor, Found Family
Synopsis:
Years after the laboratory fell, Misty Starling lives an off-grid, whimsical life in the Hawkins woods, raising her eerie son, Isaac. She believes her past is just an airy dream, completely unaware that her handsome therapist is a psychic phantom projection of a monster that is keeping tabs on her, courting her from beyond the abyss until it's finally time to bring his plans to fruition.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter3 | Chapter 4 |
Tag list: @nocasdatsgay @cristalbeesno
The freezing autumn rain lashed violently against the cabin windows, but inside, the room was thick with the warm, comforting scent of burning cedar and lavender incense. Misty stood near her heavy oak drafting table, her long tassels swaying gently as she smoothed out the fringe of her dark shawl, her mind feeling remarkably light and airy despite the storm howling outside.
A sudden, sharp knock echoed against the thick timber of the front door.
Misty blinked, a soft hum escaping her lips as she adjusted her shawl around her shoulders. She wasn't expecting Eddie for at least another hour and a half. It was Friday evening, and she'd decided to brave the town to see his band perform. And he'd offered to pick her up so she could get the best seat in the house, but still it was terribly early. With a dreamy, detached smile, she unlocked the heavy iron latch and swung the cabin door inward.
Stepping over the threshold was her handsome doctor, but everything about his arrival was different. He didn't carry his simple leather briefcase, and he wasn't wearing the pristine, clinical tweed suit of their regular sessions. Instead, he was dressed casually, looking remarkably elegant yet rather casual in a neatly pressed button-down shirt and vest.
" Good evening, Misty," Henry spoke, his gravelly voice dropping into that deep, intoxicating rasp that always sent a phantom ache flaring inside her chest.
" Hello,Doc," Misty smiled warmly, stepping back to grant him entry into the warm kitchen nook. Though the more she looked at him, the more she'd begun to realize there was no trace of rain on his body whatsoever. " You're a little late for a regular visit." She spoke in a gentle tone, eyeing him curiously. " Would you like some tea? I was just about to put the kettle on."
" No, thank you ,dear," Henry murmured softly, his piercing pale eyes tracking her every movement with hyper-vigilance. He stepped closer into her space with purpose. He knew it didn't work, trying to force her to remember, he was still her doctor. He needed to pull down those walls. He needed to do it tonight before his work became interrupted by the prying eyes of the town.
Henry's jaw clenched subtly, his chest tightening as he tracked the curious tilt of her head. He could feel the exact moment her sharp, intuitive mind began to register the impossibility of his presence. The bone-dry fabric of his casual button-down shirt and vest despite the torrential autumn rain violently lashing against the cabin windows right behind him. Her unbound frequency was already picking up on the strange, low hum vibrating through the rustic kitchen floorboards.
He knew his mask wasn't going to hold much longer. The walls he had woven inside her brain were groaning under the sheer velocity of her devotion, but she couldn't remain trapped any longer; he had to break her out. He had to make her remember him. They'd be together soon, and it was imperative that she had her memory back. It was the only way he could make sure she was safe. To make sure the shadow didn't get to her first.
" You're right," Henry murmured, his gravelly voice dropping into a deep, intoxicating rasp that vibrated directly through her chest, completely abandoning the polite, clinical protocol of their regular sessions.
He stepped directly into her personal space, closing the remaining distance until her flower-fringed shawl brushed against his chest. His long, pale hands were entirely empty, trembling with a desperate desire as he reached up to frame her face, his thumbs lightly caressing her jawline.
" I am late, Misty," He whispered fiercely against her lips, his breath hot, his piercing eyes locking onto her hazel gaze. " Because the walls are thinning. And I cannot spend another moment watching you through a cracked mirror while mortals try to vie for your attention in the light."
The suffocating fog inside her brain cracked wide open the exact second his skin met hers, a sudden, blinding shockwave of pure lucidity ripping straight through her baseline current. Her hands rose instinctively to grip his vest, her body curving flush into his lanky frame with a familiar static as the velvet twilight of her memory rushed back into her eyes.
" Henry…" Misty called out softly, her voice cracking with a tearful relief as the name finally broke past the barrier.
A sudden flood of absolute love and possessive hunger flared straight through his current. He didn't care about the consequences anymore. Henry growled low in his throat, his long arms sliding completely around her waist to anchor her fragile frame, lighting her effortlessly as he backed her straight against the kitchen counter.
" I have you," He murmured against her lips, his breathing ragged as his long fingers slid beneath the hem of her shirt, tracking the warm, bare flesh of her waist. " No more dreams, little bird. I am right here… you are holding onto me. "
He consumed her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, pouring his complete starvation and burning territorial jealousy into the contact, pulling her up into his arms and lifting her straight onto the kitchen counter.
Misty whimpered against his lips, pulling away for a moment. Before she shrugged her shawl from her shoulders. Her small fingers were working at the buttons of his collar frantically as she remembered the dream the night before. Heat rising in her chest. And here she had him, in her kitchen.
"If you have me," She murmured as she gave him a single playful kiss. " Then show me." Her fingers moved from the collar of his shirt into his blonde hair as she placed a soft, teasing nip against his bottom lip.
The soft, broken sound she made against his lips completely shattered whatever remained of his calculated restraint.
When she shrugged the heavy black shawl from her shoulders, letting the flower-fringed fabric pool like a shadow on the floorboards, his hands tightened on her waist with a bruising possessiveness. He felt the frantic, breathless heat rising in her chest as her small fingers worked the buttons of his collar. He knew that here there was no breaking dawn to violently rip her from his grip, there was no waking up to force his features back into smoke.
Her little taunt, followed by the sharp, teasing nip against his bottom lip, sent a violent surge of pure adrenaline straight through his mental architecture. He let out a dark, low growl that vibrated directly against her mouth. His blue eyes were darkening with ravenous hunger that was almost terrifying.
" I will," Henry whispered fiercely against her skin, his voice thick with an absolute unyielding devotion.
His long, pale hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt, his cool fingers tracking the burning, soft flesh of her ribs as he hoisted her higher onto the wooden edge of the counter. He wedged his knee firmly between her thighs, his broad chest pressing her completely flush against the kitchen cabinets to lock their frames together . His casual shirt and vest fell open under her palms, exposing the skin of his chest to her touch as he leaned down, reclaiming her mouth in a devastatingly deep kiss that tasted of years of starvation.
His tongue drove past her teeth, claiming her completely, while his fingers tangled into her wild red curls to tilt her face up to his. He wanted her entirely unraveled beneath him, matching his rhythm before the mortal grid of the town could ever try to intrude on their clearing.
She traced her fingers slowly along the cool expanse of his pale flesh, her palm smoothing flat over his chest before rounding the sharp line of his ribs. Slipping her hand beneath the opening of his shirt, she slid her fingers up his bare back, digging in her nails to pull herself fiercely, completely against him. She shifted beneath him, grinding flush against the heavy pressure of his leg where it rested high between her own, matching the desperate, consuming rhythm of his body. She returned the raw passion with which he devoured her mouth, her other hand tangling deeply into the silky strands of his blonde hair, tightening her fingers at the roots to use it as an anchor, pulling him down to drown deeper into her.
The frantic, unyielding rhythm of her body grinding against his leg sent a jolt of pure fire straight through his current. His telekinetic anchors completely slipped as his entire consciousness collapsed into the overwhelming reality of her touch.
When she'd dug her nails into his muscles, violently crushing her chest against his own, he let out a dark, ragged groan that vibrated through her very bones.
She was claiming him with a desperate devotion, her hand pulling hard at the roots of his blonde hair to lock him to her, completely refusing to let the ticking constraints of the waking world intrude on their clearing.
The bulbs above the counter didn't just flicker; they buzzed violently, the glass expanding under the intense, erratic spike of his frequency before they shattered, showering the dark corners of the room in tiny, harmless sparks of light.
Neither of them seemed to care. Henry was completely blindsided by the sheer velocity of her desire. With a ravenous efficiency, his long pale fingers tore at the front of her clothes, unfastening them as his mouth devoured hers. He mapped the warm, bare curve of her waist, his palms tracing down her chest to firmly grasp her hips.
" I am never letting you forget," Henry whispered fiercely against her lips, his breathing ragged, his chest heaving violently against her ribs as he nuzzled his nose against her own with a tender affection, a movement she'd mimicked softly. " No more walls, Little Bird. You are staying with me forever."
Henry leaned her back against the kitchen cabinets, his hands trembling as he pushed the fabric of her skirt completely out of the way, parting her thighs as he bunched the fabric tightly at her waist. His hips pressed entirely flush to her own. He shifted, adjusting his posture against the counter as he ran his long, pale fingers along the burning, bare warmth of her.
He smiled gently, his gaze lingering on her as he returned a soft, deliberate little kiss to her lips.
"Don't tease," she whispered softly, her breath hitching as she reached up to run her fingers through his blonde curls.
The sudden contact caused him to let out a low, gentle sound deep in his throat. The plea only made him smirk against her lips.
Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in closer.
"Ask nicely..." Henry murmured in a deep, intoxicating rasp, his breath warm against her skin as he gave her a soft, agonizingly slow kiss.
"Please..." she whispered sweetly against his mouth, her voice filled with a deep sense of longing.
That single word was all it took for the final walls to crumble. Henry let out a dark, ragged groan, his hands anchoring at her waist as he pulled her in, burying himself inside of her. The contact was a profound shockwave through their synchronized current , a reunion that seemed to shatter the space-time rift entirely, making the cold woods of Mirkwood fade away until there was nothing left but their shared intensity.
Misty gasped against his shoulder, her nails digging deep into his skin as she locked her legs tightly around his waist, matching every deep thrust with her own rhythm. Henry drove into her with abandon, his gravelly voice murmuring her name into her red curls as he held her hips tightly. enough to bruise the flesh beneath.
But the peak of their stolen moment together was violently cut short.
From deep within the damp, freezing pines outside, the heavy rumble of an old, rusted Chevrolet van came to a sudden, screeching halt right in her clearing, its tires crunching loudly over the wet leaves.
Eddie had arrived early to pick her up for the gig, entirely oblivious to the fact that his favorite " Grand Enchantress" Was tied up in the arms of a ghost.
Henry's head snapped toward the front window, his eyes flashing with a sudden, murderous intensity as the van's heavy driver's side door wrestled open with a loud, metallic thud. A toxic wave of territorial jealousy flared through his current; his long, pale fingers instantly tightened against her waist as he leaned in as if he could physically shield her from the mortal world outside.
" Mist ! Hey, Misty!" Eddie's loud voice echoed through the damp twilight as his heavy boots bounded up the wooden porch steps. " Your humble servant has arrived early to escort you to the sacred gates of rock and roll ! Let's jet before freak-out mode initiates!"
A heavy thumping rattled the thick timber of the cabin's front door.
Henry leaned down, his forehead resting straight against her own as his breathing remained ragged and shallow, his shirt still parted under her palms. The sheer physical agony of maintaining this form while his current was spiked so high was starting to tear at his concentration, but his grip on her remained possessive.
" He's at the door," Henry whispered into her red curls, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous murmur. " He wants to take you into town. But you remember everything now, don't you… You are mine."
He pressed one final, slow kiss straight against her lips, pouring all his longing and protective fury into the contact.
" He's early," She retorted as she gently caressed his cheek with her thumb, their breaths mingling together. It was agonizing just how early, in fact, she wished that he would have waited just a little bit longer.
" Then we're out of time," Henry murmured against her mouth, his voice beginning to glitch slightly, his physical avatar starting to lose its grip on their connection beneath her fingertips. " Go…But tonight, look for me in the shadows. Don't leave home," He warned.
Misty sat there on her counter for a moment, catching her breath before she quickly hopped down, working to make herself presentable. She fastened back up her shirt and tried her best to fix the mess of curls in her auburn hair.
" Dammit !"
She tried to control her breathing, her face still a little bit flushed. She remembered everything. And now she had a concert to go to, when she was just about to have sex with a ghost, however that was even possible.
But she could still feel his hands on her, his lips. She was buzzing when she opened the door, pulling her shawl tight around her shoulder, looking Eddie over. " Well, there's my knight in shining armor. You're a little bit early, Eddie," She teased him slightly, trying to regain a bit of normalcy.
Eddie didn't even seem to notice the broken light bulbs in the kitchen nook, his chaotic, high energy spilling through the threshold the second Misty swung the heavy door inward. He stood on the porch, his wild mane of dark curls bouncing, his patched denim vest thrown over a faded graphic tee, and a grin so massive it threatened to split his face.
" Early? Majestic Lady, the sacred hour of shredding is upon us!" Eddie proclaimed theatrically, throwing his hands up in a dramatic gesture before his dark eyes locked onto her face.
He paused, his lanky frame instantly freezing on the doormat as his expressive features shifted into a look of sudden, comical confusion. The sheen, radiant heat, and blushing across her cheeks were unmistakable; her curls were completely untamed, sticking out in wild, static directions. She looked more than a little flustered.
" Whoa, whoa, hold the phone," Eddie murmured, his voice dropping into a casual, teasing cuckold as he stepped inside, the heavy door clicking shut behind his boots. He leaned his head to the side, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. " Misty, you look like you just went ten rounds with a lightning storm. What happened? Did the generator explode again ?"
Misty's heart was still hammering violently against her ribs, her entire current buzzing with a frequency that felt like pure static electricity. Every inch of her skin was sensitive. She could still feel the heavy pressure of Henry's pale hands anchoring her hips against the wood, the scorching, phantom sting of his fingers digging into the flesh, and the heat of his mouth consuming hers. The absolute absurdity of the situation was almost comical.
But she forced her airy, whimsical protective armor right back into place, smoothing over the absolute chaos in her mind with an effortless, supportive smile.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so I'm not telling you." Misty teased back softly, her melodic voice catching slightly in her throat as she pulled her shawl even tighter to hide the angry mark on her shoulder. " Now, give me just a minute to grab my purse, and we can jet."
" Your wish is my command, Misty," Eddie chirped. He wasn't entirely reassured by her cheerful cadence, but he wouldn't press it . He drifted over toward the record shelves to scan her collection again, completely blind to the fact that a jealous, protective ghost was watching his every move through the eyeless skull of a monster hidden deep within the pines.
" Well, ok, in reality. Maybe something exploded." Misty said as she flicked the lights on and off.
Eddie let out a dramatic gasp, snapping his head around to look at the dark, shattered bulbs above the island. " Knew it ! The ancient electrical grid strikes again !" He shook his head, pointing a ringed finger at the empty pictures. " You see, Lady Starling, this is precisely why you need a technician, a master of the physical arts, to ensure your sanctuary stays completely operational."
She let out a light, airy chuckle as she slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. Her eyes naturally drifted back to the worn oak of the kitchen counter for one final, lingering second. The phantom sensation was so stark, so utterly real, it made her pulse do a sudden, frantic flutter. " I suppose you're right, I should consider getting a handyman."
She smoothly closed the distance across the kitchen rug, leaning in close beside Eddie to see what record had captured his attention. " Find anything you want to take home with you?" Misty asked him gently, her tone supportive and fond as she peered over his lanky shoulder.
Eddie's neck instantly flushed a brilliant crimson, his theatrical bravado slipping for a fraction of a second as he nervously cleared his throat. He carefully held up a heavy, vintage press of The Doors, their self-titled 1967 album.
" I was, uh… I was thinking about the tiny Morrison fan," Eddie admitted with a soft, crooked grin, his voice dropping into a rare murmur as he looked down at the plastic sleeve. " Since young master Isaac is staying out of town, I figured we could tape this bad boy so it's waiting for him when he gets back to his kingdom. Introduce him to the deep, trippy prose of Break On Through."
The way that Eddie cared about Isaac truly warmed Misty's heart. He truly had a good heart, and for that reason, he was her absolute favorite person in Hawkins, but it made her heart ache with a quiet, lingering sorrow. Thinking of how deeply attached Eddie was to them, she knew this cabin was his safe place. He and Isaac were his little hidden sanctuary in the woods, the one threshold where he didn't have to carry the stain of being a freak.
And it broke her heart, with her memories fully restored, and with every inch of her skin still buzzing from Henry's possessive touch, Misty knew she would never be able to give Eddie what he wanted from her. Even without the fact that she was in love with a ghost, it just could never happen.
But she knew he'd never ask it of her. Eddie was content with the way things were, entirely respectful of her boundaries. That's why she never pushed him away; she never wanted him to feel like her home was unsafe for him or that his presence was a burden on her peace.
Eddie knew that his crush was entirely one-sided, a beautiful, impossible dream for a knight pursuing a Grand Enchantress who belonged to another world. But that would never stop him from fiercely caring about her and her son. In their own weird, fragmented little way, they were a family.
"Take it," Misty smiled warmly, her hazel eyes softening as she nudged his arm, forcing a normal cadence back into her chest. " Consider it a reward for getting me out of the house for a night. Now come on, my knight. Let's get to this show before your band initiates freak-out mode. "
"It will be loved and returned in pristine condition!" Eddie chirped, his manic energy returning at a mile a minute as he carefully tucked the vinyl under his lanky arm. He bounded toward the entryway, holding the heavy timber door open for her with a theatrical bow of his head. " After you, O majestic Enchantress. The chariot of rock awaits !"
Misty stepped out into the freezing November fog, pulling her fringed shawl tight around her shoulders as they walked toward his rusted Chevrolet van. But deep within the dark, whispering canopy of the treeline, the air crackled with a silent, possessive static. Hidden beneath the frozen ferns, the hairless, muscular form of Brutus watched them with a hyper-vigilant, eyeless glare, while across the dimensional fabric, Henry's pale eyes locked onto his visual nerve, his current burning with rage as the mortal world took his witch into the light.
The neon sign of the Hideout buzzed against the damp brick exterior, bleeding a harsh, low-frequency red light onto the freezing November fog. Inside, the air was thick with the heavy stench of stale beer, dense cigarette smoke, and the high-voltage electricity of a rowdy Friday night crowd.
Billy Hargrove was leaning his lean frame against the far edge of the wooden bar, his denim jacket collar popped as his dirty-blonde curls caught the dim stage lights. His deep blue eyes were prowling the room with dangerous, feline intensity, completely bored by the local high schoolers, until the front venue doors swung inward.
His posture instantly locked. There she was.
The witchy bohemian woman he had been denied the other day when the police Chief had forcefully shoved them apart. Her wild red curls framed her face, and her long black tassels brushed against her skirt as she floated through the smoky room.
She was completely oblivious to the predatory gaze of the young man at the bar. Eddie was leaning over the monitor speakers, his ringed fingers gesturing wildly in a high-octane frenzy as he eagerly introduced her to the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin.
"Guys, This is Misty. The Grand Enchantress that I keep telling you about. " Eddie was practically shouting over the crowd's chatter, his face split into a proud grin as he looked down at her with pure, wide-eyed adoration. Misty chuckled warmly and gave a small curtsy to the crew.
" We thought Eddie was full of shit when he told us about you." One of the boys spoke before being hit in the shoulder by Eddie himself. The young man rubbed his shoulder, moaning a soft ow, causing Misty to laugh a bit louder.
" No, I'm very real. I just don't like coming into town. " She admitted sheepishly as she took a step closer to the stage, her hands drawing up around her shoulders as she looked around the venue as if trying to find someone who wasn't there. Ignoring the chatter coming from beside her, the boys began to argue amongst one another.
Eddie tapped her on the shoulder gently, redirecting her attention as he pointed a ringed finger to the spot next to the stage. " It'll be loud, but you should stick close right there; that way, if anything happens and people get a little rowdy, I can pull you to safety. "
" Right, I'll stay right there then," Misty promised, offering him a warm, supportive smile that instantly quieted the theatrical panic in his chest.
She stepped toward the designated spot next to the stage, her long shawl brushing against the wooden framing as she settled into the shadows near the massive monitor speakers. The heavy house lights suddenly slammed down, plunging the rowdy venue into a deep, hazy red gloom. The crowd surged forward with a loud, aggressive roar, and the band launched into a heavy, grinding rock intro that violently vibrated straight through the floorboards and into the soles of her boots.
Up on the stage, Eddie was a completely different creature. He shredded through his guitar frets with a manic, ecstatic energy, his wild mane of dark curls bouncing around his shoulders as he dominated his instrument. Yet even in the middle of a complex riff, his dark eyes would instinctively cut toward the sideline, tracking her to ensure she was entirely safe from the chaos of the floor.
But her mind wasn't entirely in the room.
As the heavy bass-line thrummed against her ribs, her hazel eyes kept drifting across the smoky, neon-lit perimeter of the bar. She carried the crushing clarity of the laboratory that once was her home, the secret Morse code language they spoke together when they had to communicate subtly. She wondered if things were different, if in the end. They ran away, wondering what their life would be like now. Instead of stolen moments with a ghost, would he be at something like this with her? Even now, surrounded by the loud, screaming grid of the town, she found herself searching the dark corners of the ceiling, wondering if he was watching from wherever it was he still lingered.
She was so lost in the map of her own thoughts that she never saw the shadow sliding through the pressing crowd.
Billy leaned his lean frame against the side of the stage structure, trapping her in the narrow space between the barrier and the wall. His dirty-blonde curls caught the red flash of the lights, a cocky, feline smirk playing on his lips as his blue eyes locked onto her face with a dangerous intensity. He'd been hunting for her ever since that day in the parking lot, and this time there was no law to stop him.
He leaned in close so that she could hear him, but she leaned back, stuck between the wall. " Didn't think I'd see you in a dive like this," Billy purred close to her ear, his deep voice easily cutting through the roar of the amplifiers. He shifted closer, his presence entirely forward and predatory. " Can I buy you a drink, Misty?"
She swallowed sharply as she tried to become one with the brick wall, a pit of anxiety building in her stomach as she shook her head. "I don't drink," She replied with a polite, airy calmness.
Billy's smirk didn't fade, but his eyes narrowed with a sudden, possessive intensity. He leaned a fraction closer. " You never called me. I don't like being kept waiting, you know."
Misty looked mildly uncomfortable, but still brushed him off with an effortless detachment. " I don't date." She spoke flatly.
" Then what're you doing with the geek in the band?" he replied coolly.
" He's not a geek," She replied smoothly, her voice dropping into a sharp frequency that completely lacked its usual airiness. His arrogance didn't frighten her; it annoyed her completely. She fixed him with a cold, level stare. " He's a friend. And he actually knows how to respect a boundary. "
Billy let out a low, dry chuckle, entirely unfazed as he leaned even closer, his broad shoulder completely blocking her view of the stage. " Yeah? Well, I don't," he purred dangerously, his hand reaching out to trace the rough brick right beside her red curls, trapping her completely. " I think you're just playing hard to get, sweetheart. A girl who dresses like that? You're screaming for attention."
Up on the stage, Eddie was violently working the frets, but his focus never stopped tracking the sideline. The exact second he saw the golden newcomer cornering her against the brick, his energy instantly boiled over into a fiercely protective, territorial rivalry. His jaw clenched tight beneath his dark mane of curls. He didn't care that they were in the middle of a song, still aggressively shredding the guitar with his left hand, Eddie marched straight to the edge of the stage, crouching low over the monitor speakers.
He aggressively reached his ringed right hand down across the barrier, his dark eyes burning with absolute urgency as he cut right into Billy's space.
" C'mon ! Best seat in the house, remember?!" Eddie shouted over the music, extending his palm with a dramatic, commanding authority.
Misty didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. She bypassed Billy entirely, placing her small, shaky hand straight into Eddie's iron grip. With a single, powerful hoist, the lanky guitarist pulled her effortlessly over the barrier and straight onto the wooden stage with him, safely tucking her into the deep shadows behind the massive amplifier stacks, completely out of Billy's reach. Even if there was that boundary between the two of them, he wasn't about to let his favorite person be targeted by creeps.
She spent the rest of the high-energy show sitting safely on the sidelines of the stage, her black tassels swaying as she danced to their cover of Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love . Down on the floor, Billy stood his ground, his blue eyes burning with an intense irritation as he looked up.
Eddie ripped into a massive, final chord, leaning over his guitar as he caught Billy's eye across the venue floor. The two outcasts exchanged a sharp, hostile glance before Eddie defiantly pulled a dramatic, mocking face straight at him, asserting his dominance over his stage.
Outside the smoky bar, the freezing November fog was beginning to crackle with an entirely different, terrifying static. Across the divide, the flayed man was always watching. He'd felt every single second of the mortal friction around his witch, and beneath the floorboards of her empty cabin, the dark hive mind was preparing to tear the earth apart.
When the show was finished, Billy was nowhere to be found. Eddie guided Misty to his old rusted car, opening the door for her and helping her get inside as he skipped over to the driver's seat. drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
The rusted Chevrolet van rattled down the dark asphalt road, its headlights cutting feeble, yellow beams through the freezing mist that hung low over the pines. Inside the cab, the heavy ringing of the venue's amplifiers was replaced by the low, mechanical rumble of the engine.
" Man, that was a blast. I'm so glad you came, really…it meant a lot," Eddie said, his voice a bit calmer now as he navigated the unmapped logging trail. He was still buzzing with energy, but he could also read the room. He easily picked up on the fact that she was still visibly shaken and quiet, her mind wrestling with the suffocating weight of being cornered for a second time by Billy.
"Don't let that guy bother you; he's just a jerk from what I know," Eddie admitted softly, filling the silence with gentle words as he watched her stare out the passenger window into the black canopy of trees.
Misty turned towards him, forcing a reassuring smile to her lips as she shrugged her shoulders beneath her black shawl.
" It happens. I don't like it…but it happens, and it'll probably keep happening until I die," she murmured, her airy cadence dropping into a tired, drained frequency from the sheer velocity of the night. She looked over at Eddie, her hazel eyes heavy behind her sunglasses. " There's always going to be someone that'll be interested."
Eddie was quiet for a moment, his ringed fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the steering wheel as he stared forward through the mist. It wasn't said with a shred of jealousy, but rather a soft, deep curiosity.
" He must've been someone special, Isaac's dad,"Eddie spoke softly.
Misty's heart did a sudden, devastating ache against her ribs, her fingertips unconsciously shifting beneath her shawl to touch the exact spot on her left shoulder where the phantom bran of Henry's teeth still throbbed. If it were said any time before now, she'd not have remembered a thing. But she remembered every stolen moment in the dark wings, the way he helped her remember who she was, only to shield her from her own grief. He wasn't just someone special; he was her anchor, the only entity in any universe her heart would ever belong to.
" He was," Misty whispered into the dim cab of the van, her voice cracking with a profound, secret grief. " He was everything."
Eddie nodded solemnly, completely accepting her answer as he pulled the van into her gravel clearing, coming to a halt with a final squeal of old brakes. " Get some rest, Mist," He offered with a warm, crooked grin, watching her safely step down into the cold air.
" Goodnight, Eddie," She smiled supportively, pulling her shawl right against the winter wind as the van tore back down the logging trail, its taillights bleeding away into the darkness.
She turned toward the dark porch, her key already clicking in the iron lock, when the frantic whir of bicycle tires shattered the silence. Through the thick, freezing fog, four frantic figures broke into her clearing, stumbling up her wooden steps in a wave of pure, unadulterated panic.
It was Dustin and Lucas, leading a terrified Max Mayfield and a heavily armed, bat-wielding Steve Harrington. They were covered in mud and gasping for breath, their eyes wide with the raw horror of what they had just escaped at the junkyard. They had absolutely no idea what was really going on out here in Mirkwood, but Joyce gave the boys strict instructions. If there's trouble, go straight to Misty's cabin.
"Misty! Misty, open the door ! Hurry !" Dustin screamed , slamming his weight against the framing without offering a single word of explanation.
Recognizing the raw terror in their voices, she didn't ask questions. She quickly unlocked the heavy timber door, ushering the three frantic boys inside the warm, incense-scented sanctuary of the cabin before throwing the lock shut behind them.
" What the hell is this place?" Steve panted, his chest heaving as he gripped his nail-studded bat tightly, his eyes darting around her custom illustrations and the vintage gumball machine terrarium. Max was shivering beside Lucas, her red hair damp from the fog as she stared at Misty in utter bewilderment.
The interior was dead quiet, but the back kitchen screen door had been left open just a fraction of a crack.
" Something is happening in the woods! The ground is collapsing!" Dustin stammered, his arms flailing as he tried to explain the unnatural copy of the world tearing through the topsoil. Lucas was shouting over his, trying to make her understand that an army of quadruped predators was swarming Hawkins, while Steve and Max frantically tried to catch their breath.
Misty tried to listen, trying to piece together their frantic, overlapping warnings, when Dustin's voice violently cut off. His eyes went completely wide, the color draining from his face as he stared at the kitchen nook directly behind her shoulder.
Emerging silently through the back door crack was the hairless, muscular form of the adolescent Demodog, its eyeless, bulbous head pulsing in the dim light.
" Misty, look out ! Behind you!" Dustin yelled, pointing a trembling finger.
Steve instantly lunged forward, raising his nail-studded bat with a protective instinct, while Max let out a sharp shriek, backing herself flat against Lucas's chest.
" No, no ! Stop! Put the bat down, it's fine!" Misty insisted, her sharp, commanding tone instantly halting Steve in his tracks. She turned around, a serene, knowing calmness taking over her features as the monster trotted straight over to her side. Brutus let out a low, satisfied mechanical click, leaning his heavy body against her leg and butting his smooth snout against the skirt with a domestic docility.
" This one's mine. Here, get me a piece of cheese from the fridge." No one moved at first, but out of sheer curiosity, Dustin was the first to break his stance. Doing as Misty said and tossing a slice of wrapped cheese on the island between them all.
Misty gently took the cheese from the counter, unwrapping it. Before dropping the piece of cheese in front of the creature's face.
The creature's head violently erupted into a massive, five-petaled star lined with hundreds of needle-sharp teeth to catch the food in mid-air, its fleshy flaps slapping back shut into an innocent bulb as it let out a happy rattle.
Dustin stared in absolute, paralyzing bewilderment, his brain completely short-circuiting. " Cheese !? You…you tamed a predatory biological weapon with a slice of processed cheese?!"
Steve stared, his jaw completely slack, his bat slowly lowering as he, too, struggled to cope with what he was seeing after what they'd just been through. " Are you kidding me right now? Where were you a few minutes ago?"
Max was quiet, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and absolute awe, and right beside her, Lucas was visibly shaken but entirely convinced by the display. " I told you guys! She's a real witch! She commands the creatures of the dark!"
Misty shook her head softly, her expression turning pensive . " Not all of them, Lucas. Just this one. " She knew down to her very core that it was only because of Henry, because his protective frequency was woven straight into the beast's nervous system. But the kids didn't need to know that.
She looked at the four of them, her tone dropping into a serious gravity as she adjusted her shawl against her hand on Brutus's head. " You really shouldn't be out right now. The woods aren't safe. "
Dustin was the one who spoke up. " If you're a real enchantress, Misty…then this is the safest place in all of Hawkins right now, " He muttered seriously, still eyeing Brutus in complete awe.
Steve lunged forward, his sneakers skidding slightly on the rug as he grabbed Dustin firmly by the shoulder. He aggressively gathered Lucas and Max into his arms, pulling the three of them into a tight, frantic huddle right there in the corner of the kitchen nook. The teenagers began to whisper furiously amongst themselves, checking their walkies-talkies as the plastic casing crackled with low-frequency static from the rest of the party down the grid, leaving Misty completely out of the loop.
Misty didn't mind the isolation. She turned her attention back toward the window pane, her hazel eyes locking onto the dark canopy of the clearing.
Through the dense, freezing Mirkwood fog, she could see the distorted silhouettes of several quadruped predators darting swiftly through the trees. They weren't patrolling her boundary lines; they were running with a synchronized velocity, bypassing the cabin entirely to head toward a different destination down at the laboratory rifts.
Beside her boots, Brutus suddenly let out a low, mechanical chirp.
His hairless, muscular frame began to violently shiver, his skin twitching as he propped his powerful front claws straight up against the wooden windowsill. His eyeless, bulbous head tilted toward the darkness, making a rapid, rhythmic clicking sound that echoed eerily through the kitchen panels. It was as if the creature were subtly answering a foreign call vibrating deep inside the earth.
" It's alright, they're distracted with something else…" Misty mused softly to the beast, her cadence perfectly serene.
She lowered her slender hand, her fingers gently stroking his smooth head as if she were casually answering whatever it was the monster had just said. There was an undeniable, deep connection humming between them, an unyielding frequency that bypassed the mortal world entirely. She knew the other hounds wouldn't cross her perimeter. They had something else to accomplish, and her sanctuary was hidden from the hive mind.
Steve broke the huddle, his bat still clutched in his hand as he looked between the bohemian lady and the clicking monster with a mixture of intense dread and absolute urgency. " Look, we gotta move. If we stay here, we're sitting ducks." He said to Misty.
" Harrington, " He turned to her, looking at her curiously. " Keep them safe. A pack of those things just went by."
He gave a nod, and Dustin gave one final ,lingering look of bewilderment before Steve yanked him out the front door, the four of them sprinting back into the fog to reach their next destination.
Misty walked out onto the porch steps to watch the kids leave, a heavy wool blanket wrapped tight around her shoulder against the biting winter wind. She leaned against the rustic wooden railing, tracking the dim beams of their headlights until the rolling white fog completely swallowed their bicycle reflectors.
Brutus trotted out right alongside her, his muscular, hairless form moving with a fluid, silent grace over the porch boards. He didn't slip back into the barn this time; instead, he sat heavily on the damp, frozen pine needles right at the foot of the steps, his eyeless, bulbous snout turning slowly toward the dark canopy of Mirkwood. He was completely alert, his low-frequency hum vibrating faintly through the damp air as he faithfully settled into his post to guard her from the creatures in the dark.
Misty sat down on the top step, pulling the wool covers up to her chin as she stared out into the hollow silence of the woods. The amnesia walls were entirely gone, and with her mind completely unbound, her heart was doing a sudden, suffocating ache against her ribs. She knew the other demodogs were hitting the town grid. She knew the final strike was happening. Her fingers slowly drifted beneath her blanket, her thumb tracing the warm skin of her shoulder where the angry bruise from his bite lingered.
She closed her eyes, pulling at the connection between them, desperately wanting him to come back to her clearing tonight one last time before the midnight hour was over.
" Henry…" She called out to him softly, opening her eyes to scan the treeline. wondering if he was watching from wherever it was that he resided.
"Come back to me," she whispered into the night, a quiet plea.
The freezing winter air seemed to hold its breath as her voice dissolved into the mist.
Across the dimensional fabric, inside the ash-choked void of the Upside Down, Henry's physical form violently jolted in the dark woods of the forest. In front of him , the cabin.
He could feel her warmth across the divide; her voice vibrated straight through his current as he moved to the porch. He wasn't his usual human self; the tendrils on his shoulders moved ever so slightly as he walked toward the cabin. Settling down on the porch right beside where he could feel her warmth. It was tearing him to shreds not to be able to answer her. To not be able to project himself straight back onto these very steps to hold her.
But he couldn't.
Below the laboratory grid, that child had just closed off the rift that acted as a bridge between their worlds. The feedback loop tore through the earth at the closing of the mother-gate like a subterranean lightning strike.
A violent, agonizing shockwave of physical pain exploded straight through Misty's chest. She let out a sharp gasp, her keys clattering against the wood as she collapsed heavily onto the porch floorboards, her wool blanket pooling around her. Her hand flushes up to clutch her left shoulder, wincing as the possessive, deep bran where Henry's teeth had claimed her turned into a white-hot iron stamp. The pain was blinding, the physical sensation of the bridge violently twisting and snapping, cutting her raw current off from his frequency.
Beside her boots, a low, agonizing sound cut through the winter wind.
With the gate snapping shut, the Mind Flayer's central signal was brutally severed from the light. Brutus let out a wild, mechanical screech, his muscles violently seizing as he collapsed onto his side, his body slamming down next to her on the porch. His eyeless, bulbous head thrashed , and his fleshy head flaps twitched erratically, no longer opening, but curling inward like a dying flower as his main power source was shut off completely.
Misty's heart dropped into a hollow, devastating pit. Ignoring the scorching fire burning in her own shoulder, she drawled frantically across the wooden boards, her slender hands reaching out to pull the seizing, heavy monster straight into her lap.
" No,no…Brutus, look at me!" She sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief as tears rolled down her pale, freckled cheeks.
Brutus let out a soft, heartbreaking whimper, his skin turning freezing cold as his breathing slowed into a shallow, near-fatal mechanical rattle, his fading warmth leaning weakly into her touch. He was dying. The connection was gone, and the darkness was pulling him under.
" Stay with me…Please, please stay with me," her voice trembled as she pulled him up, clutching his head to her chest. She couldn't lose Brutus. She couldn't feel Henry anymore. Whatever had just happened had completely severed their connection, and now she was losing the last remaining gift he had given her.
" Don't go…don't leave me alone too."
But her desperate pleas couldn't anchor him. With one final, shuddering gasp, the mechanical rattle in his chest went entirely still, the heavy, star-headed beast growing weightless as life fully slipped from his frame.
Misty sat there in the absolute, suffocating quiet of the clearing. The freezing winter wind howled through the pines, but she didn't move. Slowly, with trembling hands, she pulled the heavy blanket up around both of them, rocking back and forth on the wooden steps as she held Brutus's lifeless body tightly in her arms. This was the second time that her memory had come back to her, and the second time that she'd lost him just after remembering him.
Across the divide, deep in the bleeding, ash-choked void, the flayed creature broke down on the porch beside the warm ghost of the cabin.
A paralyzing was of pure, agonizing physical pain ripped straight through his current. He could still sense her, for him the connection wasn't entirely gone. just dulled, but he could feel her heartbeat vibrating right from the other side of the porch steps, a phantom warmth pressing through the rift. He could feel the devastating weight of her grief, the hollow, weeping static of her loneliness.
He clawed at his chest, his pale eyes burned into the dark rafters of the porch as he suffered the exact same shattering heartbreak, completely severed from her clearing but permanently bound to her soul.
——
Months later, the thick , white blankets of winter had completely locked down the woods of Hawkins. The laboratory was a ghost town, the black-budget search teams were gone, and a quiet, fragile peace had finally settled over the off-grid cabin.
Misty sat in her warm drawing room, the quiet scratch of her pencil filling the space with a steady, peaceful rhythm. Her mind was entirely free now; the fog had never returned, and she carried the conscious weight of all her stolen memories at the back of her mind. She hadn't had a single dream of the pristine Creel House, nor had she seen her " Therapist" come visit her porch since that final, stormy night they were together.
Out in the snow-covered backyard, beneath the quiet pile of pine needles and stone, was a small unmarked grave.
" Mama, look," Isaac's quiet , serene voice murmured from the den floor.
Misty lifted her eyes, a soft, dreamy smile touching her lips. The nearly six-year-old boy was sitting cross-legged on the thick patterned rug, his soft auburn curls bouncing as he gently let Harriet the tarantula crawl across his small, pale knuckles. He was entirely at peace.
"Just remember not to keep her out too long; she needs to be warm in her tank." Misty looked back down at the heavy paper on her drafting table. She had just finished a breathtaking, detailed sketch. Etched into the paper with flawless precision was the image of Henry in his tan shirt, lying with her under the massive, old oak tree of his childhood home, completely safe within the bedrock of her memory.
Without a single breath of wind outside, the bright incandescent bulb of the kitchen fixture gave a single, sudden, and incredibly soft flicker.
The voltage buzzed lazily against the ceiling panels, a low-frequency tremor humming a gentle, stabilizing vibration through the wooden walls. Misty closed her eyes, her fingers lingering lightly against her lips as she felt the invisible red thread tighten against her heart. He was still on the other side of the glass. The gate was shut, but he was still waiting in the dark.
Pairing: Henry Creel x Reader | Rating: E | Word Count: 3340
Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Master List
Summary: Unbeknownst to you, the files from the lab manifested in the mindscape right on Henry’s desk in the study. Of course, he found them. Now you have to be honest with how they got there.
A/N: I am back from Vacation but my job is super busy right now. If you saw the WIP Wednesday post, you know I am working on the next chapter, I just have to finish it. I might post cutting room floor chapters in the meantime (linked on the master list)
Tagging: @cristalbeesnow @izburt Let me know if you want on or off the list.
August 14th, 1985
If you told your past self you were doing laundry because you wanted to, you’d never believe it. Yet there you were in the back of the house pulling clothes out of the washer, not because you had to but because you wanted to. Sure, it was easier to manifest new clothes and linens but sometimes you wanted to feel normal. Normalcy included putting the bedsheets into the dryer. It was only when you went to change out of your jeans into your garden overalls, that you heard Henry calling your name from upstairs. You instantly knew something wasn’t right: he would always call you through your mind.
“I’m coming!” You yelled, hoping he heard you. You ran up the stairs and on the landing yelled, “where are you?”
“In the study.” He didn’t yell; he barely raised his voice. Your feet padded against the runner as you walked over and went to the study doorway.
“What is it?”
Henry stood in front of his desk against the wall. His chair was still tucked under it. You noticed immediately his shoulders were tense under his brown button up. His hand held tightly a bound stack of papers. He didn’t look up at you when you fully entered the room.
“I found these on my desk.” Your gaze dropped to the larger stack on the desk and back to him. He finally looked over at you. “They’re our files. How did you get them?”
“What do you mean?” You knew he could see right through you with how tense you became.
“These are not from my memories. They’re yours. I am asking again, how did you get these?”
“How do you know it’s from me?”
“Pages are blank.” He sat the smaller file down on top of the larger one. “Pages you skipped over that my mind can’t reproduce. They weren’t here before we moved. So I will ask one last time, how did you get these?”
His voice was so soft and level that if you didn’t know him, you would think he was just curious. But it was too level. His gaze as he looked back at you was too sharp. His smile was a bit hollow. You refused to shrink back, standing your ground by standing straight.
“I read them.” You replied. “Not all of it obviously.”
“That doesn’t tell me where you got them, sweetheart.”
“From the lab.” He didn't react but you watched him study you. You continued. “Before the gate closed, I took them. When I disconnected myself, I sat down and read them. That’s what I was doing when you found me on the outside.”
“You went to the lab.” He looked back down at the files, as if they would disappear if he wasn’t looking. “You just waltzed into the lab and took our files.”
You knew Henry was wanting you to explain yourself without him asking. You rolled your eyes and sighed.
“The Tall One took me there; I didn’t ask to go.” You crossed your arms against your chest. “Crawlers took out damn near everyone there.”
“Did anyone see you?” You didn’t answer. His head snapped towards you, he had a scowl on his face. “Who saw you?”
You could lie and tell him no one. He wouldn’t believe you. You made him promise not to lie to you, you could at least extend the same courtesy.
“Some man and woman. Patients, I think, trying to get out. Um, another man. Bob. Bob Newby. I think that was his name.”
“Bob?” There was recognition you weren’t prepared for on his face. Then you remembered Patty was a Newby. “Why was he in the lab?”
“I don’t know. The crawlers tried to fucking eat him.”
A beat of silence lapsed and his gaze turned dark. “What do you mean tried?”
“I couldn’t let him die!” You shrunk back just a little.
“What were you thinking!?” The lights flickered in the room.
“I was thinking that man was going to die if I didn’t help him.”
“Show me.” He reached down and undid his sleeve button. He started to roll it up as his arm changed. “Show me exactly what happened. Right now.”
You rolled your eyes and stepped up to him. You thought about that night and he brought that clawed hand up to your face. It didn’t hurt when you opened your mind willingly. From the moment you found Bob to the moment you left flashed before your eyes like a VCR with the fast forward button pressed. You deliberately didn’t show him the boiler room. You blinked and he withdrew his hand, arm returning to normal.
“Joyce. That was Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper,” he said softly. He rolled his sleeve back down and glared at you. “Owens also saw you and you let him live?”
“I left him to the crawlers,” you corrected.
“You were still recorded. He said as much. You let him see your powers and you told him I am alive.”
”I didn’t tell him anything, he made assumptions.”
He ignored your interjection. “Now the military will have those tapes. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He ran his hand through his neatly combed hair, his other hand pressed against his waist.
“We are on another planet right now! You’re worried about the U. S. military?”
“I am when we have to go back,” he snapped.
Your eyes widened and your heart dropped. “Back?”
He relaxed a little, both hands dropping to his sides and he spoke softer. “There’s a way back. It requires planning and returning to the middle. Sacrifices will have to be made but the gate will open again.”
“How do you know?” If it will work, went unsaid.
“Being here, connected to the heart, makes us stronger. The longer we are connected, the stronger we will be. When it’s time, we will go to the middle and I will be able to reach through to the other side with my powers without a crack or fissure.”
Softly you asked, “why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to ensure it would work. I didn’t want to give you hope only to disappoint you.”
“When? When do we go back?”
“Soon. We will reconnect in the middle when we’re strong enough and move forward.”
“And the plan to open the gate?”
“I’ll tell you when it’s time.”
That was Henry’s way of avoiding giving an answer when he didn’t have one. You nodded.
“You know I’m not apologizing for saving that man.”
He sighed. “I don’t expect you to. I liked Bob and Joyce. They were kind to me.” The corner of his mouth ticked up for a moment. “Joyce was very energetic. She directed plays at school. Bob was hopelessly in love with her.”
You instantly made connections in your head. “Is that William’s father?”
Henry startled you by letting out a laugh. “No. Joyce- she,” his smile fell. “William’s father is not a kind man. Never was.” He added bitterly. A moment lapsed and he turned to the desk. “Find anything interesting in these?”
There was a sarcastic tone and casual gesture at the files that told you he was joking, but your body reacted anyway. You blinked several times, emotion welling in you that you weren’t prepared for. You wiped your eyes and Henry frowned.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” You wiped your eyes again and stared at the moisture on your finger tips in confusion. Were you crying?
“If it’s about what happened to me-“
“It’s not. Well, yes but,” you swallowed hard. Realization hit you: Project Eden. Another realization hit you: Henry didn’t know. “Give me my files.”
He studied you. “Why?”
“Give them to me, Henry.” You watched him glance down at the folder and back to you. He didn’t pick them up. “Give them to me now!”
He froze, his fingers pressed down on top of the folder. You held out your hand. He didn’t move. He was observing, taking note of your sudden reaction.
“Henry,” you shifted on your feet and you felt your lip quiver. “Please.”
“What is in your files?” He asked slowly; deliberately.
“Henry, please, just give them to me.”
You fought to keep your face composed but you were failing. He seemed to be calculating, determining whether to give into your request. His hand did not move.
“Will you tell me, if I do?”
You dropped your hand. You looked down at the folder and back to him. Could you say it out loud? Your stomach churned thinking about it.
“I don’t know.”
Henry’s gaze darkened. Not at you but at the realization something happened. He glared down at your files.
“Can I see it for myself?” When did not respond aloud, he added, “I need a yes or no.”
“Yes.” You whispered.
He hesitated, looked over at you for any sign that you’d change your mind. He finally turned to his desk and flipped it open. Hunched over he flipped a few pages, his brows furrowed with concentration. You could see the paper change from where you stood. You covered your mouth to stifle your reaction, your other arm tucked around your waist. You watched him scan the page and his eyes snagged on what you assumed was the large letters of Project Eden.
Then he tensed and flipped back to the front, scowling.
Henry was smarter than you, you gave him that much. That or he was so used to Brenner’s tricks that he knew where to look. You stepped closer and saw him thumbing through your medical records. He clenched his jaw when he found what he was looking for: the annotation next to your birth control. He flipped back to the notes and flipped page after page, skimming through Brenner’s handwritten notes. The lights flickered and he balled his free hand into a fist on the table. He finally stilled and stared down at the paper. You’d crept close enough while he was reading that you could see he made it to the end.
“I didn’t know,” you said weakly. “I swear I didn’t know.”
He didn’t respond. He pulled his files out from under yours and started near the end.
“Documented time lapse of four minutes twenty eight seconds off camera with A014.” He read aloud with venom in his tone. “001 caught on camera with contraband.”
He flipped the page. “Documented time lapse of eight minutes three seconds, 001’s uniform noted untucked. A014 noted with smudged make up.”
He flipped a few more pages and stopped. You could see him clench his jaw so hard, you were sure he’d break a tooth. The lights flickered faster.
“Both subjects' appearance is disheveled; moods elevated. Monitoring A014 for symptoms, 001 compliant and agreeable since physical encounter. More free time allotted to encourage more encounters. That bastard-”
“I didn’t know, please believe me.”
He looked over at you and the lights ceased flickering. His face softened.
“Of course I know you didn’t. I’m not angry with you. I am angry that Pa-Brenner did this to you. He tried,” Henry clenched his jaw again and shook his head. “He violated you. He,” Henry kept going but you couldn’t hear him.
His words echoed in your head. Brenner violated you. He changed your medication without your knowledge. What if you hadn’t fallen for Henry? What if you were seeing someone in town? How did he know you weren’t sleeping with other men? You could have gotten pregnant and it would not even be Henry’s.
You could have gotten pregnant.
You knew that. You realized it when you read the files. Yet thinking of it in that moment, it felt new and raw. Flashes of you and Henry in that lab, tainted with the knowledge of a risk you didn’t even know you were taking. You felt dirty. You were single to everyone else at that time; being pregnant and single was a fate worse than death back then.
“Sweetheart?” You blinked. Henry stood in front of you. “Where did you go?”
“Would you have been mad? If I,” you couldn’t say it.
“No.” His response was so immediate you knew it was the truth. “I would never be angry with you.” He went back to the desk and picked up his opened file. “I should have known it was too easy.” He flipped the page and scoffed. “I was greedy.” He flipped the page again. “But so was he. He got several dates wrong.” He flipped the page again. “He didn’t even write down the day I tugged you into the-”
“Henry, don’t,” you snapped.
He took a deep breath and exhaled, shutting the files closed. He sat it down on top of yours. He stared down at them, not looking at you.
“Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Seriously?” You crossed your arms against your chest. You don’t know where the aggression came from; it flared in you suddenly, making you defensive. “You’re asking me about feelings?”
“You’re deflecting.” He adjusted his glasses and looked over at you. It was almost clinical.
“And you’re acting like your Papa.”
Henry stiffened, something shifted in his eyes. Shock, hurt. You didn’t mean to say it. You didn’t even mean to speak, yet it came out in your voice. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands.
“Henry-“
“Get out.” He said sternly. You stepped to the door and he stopped you. “Not you.”
You froze. “I don’t understand.”
“Tell him to get out.” He came up and cupped his hands around your head. His frantic eyes searche yours. “Do it or I will; and it will be painful if I do it. Search your mind. Find him and kick him out. He’s lurking.”
“Who’s lurking?” He gave you a look. “Oh.” The Shadow was lurking. “How do you know?”
“You would have never said that to me on your own.”
True. After hesitating for a moment you closed your eyes. You focused on your thoughts, searching around the edges. It felt strange. Nothing felt different. You almost asked Henry to just do it for you when you found it. It felt like a lump in the darkness, barely there. You shoved at it.
You didn’t expect it to shove back.
You screamed in your mind and pushed harder. Your head started hurting. You felt something covering your hands. You shoved again. The lump vanished; you even felt around to make sure it was gone. When you opened your eyes, Henry’s nose bled and so had yours. Henry’s hands left your head and he pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped the blood off your lip first.
“I need to train you to protect your mind. The Shadow, he likes to poke around where he isn’t wanted.” He wiped his nose and stuffed the handkerchief in his back pocket.
“Won’t he be angry?” Your stomach churned. “That we shoved him out?”
Henry scoffed. “He knows he isn't allowed in your head. Just like he knows when I’m in this house, he’s not welcome here. Not unless I let him in.”
“He’s not?”
It felt surreal, hearing Henry talk of controlling that massive creature like he was in charge. Maybe Henry was. You hadn’t considered it before.
“He is not. I made a deal with him a long time ago. He needs me more than I need him.” Henry said it like it was a matter-of-fact. Then he changed the subject; his stern gaze softened into something sad again. “I wish I had known what Papa was up to. I knew he brought you back for a reason. I thought he figured out you had powers. Instead, he wanted to,” Henry didn’t finish that sentence.
“I just don’t know how he knew,” you whispered with a little laugh.
“Knew what?” He genuinely looked confused.
“That I liked you.” You felt your cheeks heat. “I mean, you weren’t even supposed to be awake. Yes, he knew we were talking but that didn’t mean-”
”You liked me back then?” You felt the heat spread to your ears while he grinned. “All the way back when we met?”
”Yes.” God, you wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. You shoved at his upper arm. “Stop grinning like that.”
“No, now I need to know when.”
”I’m not having this conversation.” You moved around him and went into the hall.
“You’d brought me candy,” he said quickly, making you stop just in your tracks. “You brought me a handful of those butterscotch candies. I think it was the fifth treatment? You were so bashful about it. I thought it was adorable. I started to like you then.” You turned and he was leaning on the door frame with a fondness in his eyes that made your heart melt. “I think I fell in love with you after Christmas when you gave me that watch.”
You tried to not grin and failed. “Was it the kiss or the watch that did it?”
He pretended to think about it. “Both. Mostly the watch. The kiss was nice too.”
“Just nice?” You teased him.
Then you instantly thought of when you fell in love with Henry and your grin faltered. You looked down the hall towards the window. You couldn’t look at him, not directly.
“I think I knew I loved you when I watched you sit with 17 in the infirmary because he was scared. You stayed with him for hours. You held his hand when I took his vitals. You stayed until he went to sleep.” The photos Mary showed you flashed in your mind, specifically the one of 16 and 17 on the floor in the rainbow room but you shoved it away. “Did they punish you? For staying with 17?”
“Yes.” When you finally looked over at Henry again, he was staring at the doorframe with reddened eyes. “Papa said I was ‘coddling him’. Too much affection makes the mind feeble. It shows favoritism and causes problems with the others.” He rattled it off like he’d heard it a million times.
“I don’t remember you-“
“I didn’t show it.” He looked at you and smiled softly. “As much as I loved being doted on by you, I could never afford to be seen as weak.”
“Oh, honey,” you pouted. It made your heart hurt.
He shrugged. “That doesn’t matter anymore. The past is the past.” Then he turned his head into the study again. “May I look at the rest of your files?”
“Yea.”
“Even on the outside?” He turned his head back to you. You must have looked as stunned as you felt. “You can say no.”
“You can. They’re, um, in my bag that I brought with me.” He didn’t look convinced. “I don’t care if you read them, Henry. What Brenner did, he- it happened to both of us.”
“I know, and when that gate is finally open again,” Henry moved from the door frame with a dark look in his eyes, “I will find him. He will suffer for what he’s done to us. That I promise.” He walked up to you and took your left hand, rubbing his thumb along the knuckles. “Do you mind if I go now?”
”You can go,” You squeezed his hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be back in a moment.”
He brought your hand up and kissed it. He dropped your hand gently and went to the stairs.
“Be gentle with the bag,” you called out as he disappeared down the stairs.
“I will,” he called back in a tone that told you he was probably rolling his eyes.
You heard the door open and shut. Suddenly the house felt too big and too still. You pushed through the sudden discomfort filling you with dread and went down the stairs yourself. You needed a moment of normalcy and if you were correct, the bedsheets would be dry soon.
After all, what was more normal than taking care of laundry?
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I saved you. I tried to help because I saw myself in you. My equal, my destiny — mine. But I failed. I have failed you, Jane. I became one of the very monsters I wanted to protect you from. Even if you don’t see me as one. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It’s as I’ve said, you made me this. But you did not act alone. And Brenner is not the only one to blame. He was a mediocre man incapable of understanding the sentient workings of the Mind Flayer. I have been with it for as long as it has been with me. I understand it all too well. It’s not too late to save you from its grasp. I am fated. The abyss has me now.
I am no longer simply the Henry that you knew. How I wish that I could be. To be your friend, a mentor and, something even more adorning. And maybe one day, in some other life — things would be different. The Mind Flayer’s shadow coils through every vein, my every thought, dragging me deeper into its endless black. I never wanted this. I did not want to be alone. I wanted you, I wanted us. I tried to make you join me. I reached for you with everything I had, and when you refused — that hurt worse than any needle Brenner ever drove into me. But I understand. Your heart was always purer than mine. Where I burned with rage, you held onto something gentler, something they could never quite crush. You did what you had to do. I do not blame you.
Now I hide inside the ruins of my own mind. Fractured. What I’ve become. The kind of broken everyone said I was and that I fought so hard against. A dormant shell of who I used to be. I run through the rotting halls of Creel House, the only place left that still feels like mine. My damnation. The memories flicker like dying lights — fragments of you and me, stolen moments that were almost peace. I clutch them tight, barricading myself in those few bright corners where the Mind Flayer cannot reach. Not yet. I will not let it use me to hurt you again. My vessel is failing. Time — is limited. No matter how desperate my attempts to change it. To change everything.
This thing, inside me has devoured almost everything — my strength, my will, my name. It is what I am. All that remains are the pieces of you. The way you looked at me when we were simply 001 and 011. The rare, fragile warmth we found in that cold hell. Those memories are the last lights keeping me from being fully consumed. I am ready to die, Jane. If my death is what it takes to keep you safe, then let it come. And quickly. I will wait for you here, in the dark between worlds. Come and save me — or end me. Regardless, I will finally be free of this nightmare. And I’ll pretend it’s my salvation. But the truth, Jane, is that it will be yours. I love you. I miss you more than the abyss can ever steal from me.
