Tessa Quinn

"I never thought wild rabbits could be so friendly," he exclaimed as the rabbit snuggled into his arms. It was definitely unusual for a wild animal to be so friendly, but he was not about to turn down a cute creature. "I kind of want to name it."

park. forehead. park. forehead. blood.

he squinted at her sleeve, then at her face, then at the park behind her like it might suddenly provide subtitles.

“okay,” he said slowly, holding one hand up. “so either you want me to go to the park and think really hard… or the park made your nose bleed with its mind, which, frankly, in hawkins? not impossible.”

he glanced at the blood again. “lemme see.” he gestured toward her nose, waiting a second to make sure she wouldn’t bolt or poke him again before leaning just a little closer. just looking.

“okay, still bleeding, but not, like, horror-movie bleeding.” he nodded more to himself than to her. “that’s… manageable.”

he took one of the tissues and demonstrated, dabbing under his own nose like a very, very dorky nurse.

“gentle pressure, no dramatic sleeve murder scene.”

then he tapped his own forehead, mirroring her, and pointed toward the park.

“you want me,” tap, “to go there?” point.

he repeated it slower, eyebrows raised, giving her room to confirm or reject.

“okay,” he said. “you don’t wanna call them yet. i get that.” he turned his body a little toward the park, not walking yet, just making it clear he was taking her seriously.

then again at the forehead poke.

then he took the card, eyes scanning it at top speed. and immediately his whole expression changed.

“oh,” he said softly, all the rapid-fire chaos in him dropping down a few notches. “okay. okay, got it.”

he looked back up at her, then at the bleeding nose, then back to the card. “tessa,” he said carefully, “you could’ve opened with the forehead poke thing, honestly. very effective communication strategy.”

dustin folded the card and kept it visible in his hand instead of pocketing it. he gave a small nod, like they’d successfully established diplomatic relations.

“okay. so. new plan. we call your parents, because that is what the official tessa quinn emergency instructions say to do, and i am a rule follower in exactly this one scenario.”

he fished in his pocket for change and a few random objects that absolutely were not useful, then grimaced.

“unless, of course, you have opinions about that.” he paused, then corrected himself. “which—obviously you do. i just mean…” he gestured vaguely. “you can point. or nod. or poke me in the forehead again, i guess. that seems to be one of your things.”

he glanced toward the nearest pay phone, then back at her, staying put so she wouldn’t think he was just going to drag her off somewhere.

for one terrible second, he didn’t know what to do.

then his entire body snapped into motion.

“whoa—hey, hey, don’t move too fast,” he said, hurrying over with his hands half raised. his eyes immediately locked onto the blood. “okay—that's blood. that is definitely more blood than we want coming out of a nose on a tuesday.”

he fumbled in his jacket pocket and after much digging, produced a crumpled wad of tissues. he held them out awkwardly. “here.”

he crouched a little so he wasn’t looming, his expression tight with concern and curiosity in equal measure.

“you good?” he asked, then immediately winced. “no, wait, dumb question. obviously not good.”

his eyes flicked over her face, checking if she looked dizzy, too pale, too out of it.

“can you breathe okay? do you feel weird?”

then, because he was dustin and incapable of letting a moment breathe without over-explaining, “i’m only asking because concussions are a thing, and also this town has a statistically alarming relationship with unexplained injuries.”

he shifted his weight, still holding the tissues out.