got my own back.

following the footsteps 

of a rag doll dance ;

we are entranced -  s p e l l b o u n d. [ meet joanie. ]

.

jo’s frown definitely came as a surprise to max. there was no way she wouldn’t be into a badass knife, right? ah, there it was. her smile made max grin in turn and shrug with a not-so-modest look on her face, “i do now.” she explained vaguely, “chance cunningham broke cole, adam, and i into the hunting store. got it then.” choppy was tucked away safely in time for her to gawk at the small revolver jo produced. “bitchin.” she breathed out, leaning over to eye it a little closer. curiously, she laughed, “since when can you shoot a gun? do you really know how to use that thing?” max knew she should’ve hoped for a yes, but mostly, she was thinking jo looked cool with it, so it didn’t really matter, truly. 

when they were done comparing weapons, max forged ahead, dropping the flashlight once she safely concluded the door was locked. while max was impressed with jo’s initiative and ability to get the door unlocked, she wasn’t surprised in the slightest. instead, she was more interested in what jo had to say about the lab. max herself had never been, but she’d heard enough stories from the place that it felt like she had. “how did all that go?” her nose kinda throbbed merely recalling the night, “at the lab i mean.” she hadn’t really caught up with anyone about it, but she’d been a little preoccupied with now having a boyfriend and an overbearing uncle. no time like the present, she figured! “what was in the safe?” max continued to prod, not sure how much she believed in the spylike grandeur jo described it as. sure, she might’ve cracked a safe, but did it really go down like that?

max waited for jo to pick herself back up to enter. she coughed too, frowning as she flashed her light around. there were cobwebs everywhere and the sight of dust flying was unmistakable, “was it this…musty in here last time?” she pulled her shirt up over her mouth as she looked around the main area. where they’d played spin the bottle what felt like a lifetime ago. turning her light down the hall that held that weird little portal, max stopped midway. “it doesn’t look like there’s anything weird about it.” it didn’t last time either, not really, but before she took a step further she needed a second opinion from jo. trying to make the whole situation feel less scary, less heavy that it had been last time, she dryly joked, “should we go down the big bad hallway…again?” 

+++

jo pondered max's words code for a moment, then shook her head, shaking off most of the questions she had. there wasn't enough time to unpack all of this, after all. another day. "sounds badass. i’m only, like, partly insulted that you didn't invite me to tag along." but then again, if she wasn't investigating creepy abandoned laboratories, jo had pretty much spent every day since the carnival either up to her elbows in work at the post or holed up in the basement as she bounced new clues and theories off murray over the walkie.

"well...no - or, like, not exactly but -" she pursed her lips, gave a shrug that she hoped appeared nonchalant. "jack and i used to shoot at each other with pop guns, like, all the time. it can't be that different, can it?" it very much could, and jo was very much aware of this. but no need to dwell on that now, it wasn't like she was eager to make use of the gun tonight. or ever, for that matter. just the thought of what max and her might encounter that would prompt them to draw their weapons made jo's stomach drop, she gulped.

they'd reached the cabin, jo had managed to pick the lock, currently in the process of dusting herself off and getting up as she was bombarded with max's questions. which reminded her of how many questions of her own she had - that's right, max hadn't been at the lab. the static, buzzing images of one of the security cameras capturing the blurted going ons at the junkyard popped into her head. "it's... well, it's sort of a long story. i don't - we broke into the lab, we sort of... investigated." nervous fingers looking for something to do, she clicked the switch on her flashlight a couple of times. "it was weird as shit, man. and, like, super scary. but byers found this really weird looking jar of... something in the safe, and nancy also nicked, like, a vial of something. and files! yeah, we took some files and stuff.until we were chased out of the lab. " fiddling with the switch, jo jumped a bit as she left the light off for a few seconds too long, quickly turned it on again. this... mission of theirs was scary and risky enough as it was, no need to make things more difficult for them just because jo couldn't keep her hands still.

she swallowed, brows knitted together as she looked back at max. "so...looks like the lab's still active. i mean, not that i'm eager to go back or anything! no, that place gives me the heebie jeebies." jo fell silent for a minute. then, nodding to herself, she went on: "yeah, fuck that lab." indeed, fuck that lab. "what about the junkyard - you were at the junkyard, right? inside the lab there was this room with all these cameras, one of them was hooked up to the junkyard. but we didn't see you or anything."

a pang of guilt in her stomach, she knew she should've probably asked sooner. about the junkyard, about how max was doing. in light of recent events, of course, but also in general. however, right there and then was probably not the right time nor place to catch up. "i don't really remember...",she mused to herself, following words quickly dying down in her throat with an oncoming coughing fit. "doesn't seem like anyone's been here in the meantime." and jo suddenly became doubtful of her own perception - what if they had all just... mass hallucinated the whole thing last time? it made no sense, of course, but neither did a time-capsule-portal-room. so, with a heavy sigh, another stifled cough, she followed behind max, gave her hand a quick, tight squeeze. unsure who she was reassuring here. "we shall." a beat passed. "uh - after you."

WHO: max mayfield & @jofcreman·· WHAT: ryan bergera and shane madej are just two girls from hawkins indiana WHERE: the cabin (yes THAT cabin, the famed failure)

what started out as an innocent check in with jo, very, very quickly devolved as soon as the older girl disclosed what she had seen at the lab a couple of nights prior. max tried to keep anything weird about hawkins under wraps, maintain the illusion of normalcy within their town, help protect some of that innocence. unfortunately, part of this game was that she wasn’t the only player, and she couldn’t control what peculiar things other people stumbled upon. so now that jo knew, about the lab at least, max would take off the kiddie gloves and stop being shifty about some things. in theory, it was an easy transition, but max mayfield could jump from one point to a more extreme one very quickly. such was the case with jo. jo mentioned the surveillance screen, max remembered something similar for the cabin, and suddenly they were navigating the woods of lover’s lake, flashlights in hand as they searched for the cabin. 

max’s left hand gripped the flashlight as they stepped over fallen twigs and ducked around tree trunks to try and spot the thing. feeling antsy, and maybe not as invested as jo, she pulled out her knife from beneath her clothes and flashed it to the other, “look.” she grinned, twisting it a little in her hand, “cool right?” jo seemed to be taking the whole thing more serious if that was even the right word. like the investigation was thrilling to her, or something. it reminded max a little of nancy, but if nancy had done gem and discovered who sinead o’connor was. but hey, maybe government conspiracy was old news to max, less exciting. either way, she’d do some poking around, and get the bonus of hanging out with jo in the process. they walked a little ways more and then with certainty, max shouted out, “there it is!” she tucked away choppy and began jogging forward until she reached the door. “are you ready?” max said, casting jo a teasing glance, like something behind the door would be so horrible. she grabbed the handle of the door, but found it locked when she tried to turn it. “shit.” she crouched down and patted her head. “do you have a bobby pin?” she asked, frowning. if jo did, they were in luck. lockpicking was bonding 101 with sam mayfield back in the day. 

+++

this was insane. fucking insane. but perhaps the most fun jo had ever had in her life, she thought as a shiver ran down her spine. senses heightened, jumping at every crack of a twig or rustle of a leaf - but jumping with thrilled and nervous excitement. investigative journalism at its best. flashlights in hand, max and jo were navigating the woods around lover's lake, trying to find their way back to where it had sort of all started - for jo at least. the trip to the cabin had marked a turning point for her, her outlandish conspiracy theories suddenly not seeming as far fetched. oh and she'd been itching, dying to get back to the cabin, investigate further.

so when max had shown up at the post, when a little chit chat evolved into something more serious, when she'd suggested they go back to the cabin, jo had jumped at the chance. and here they were, side by side, and jo was unsure what to say - how much to disclose, of what she'd found out in the past couple of weeks. murray had mentioned max's name in passing when he'd debriefed her on what had been happening in hawkins, still, jo couldn't be sure how much she knew. hell she wasn't even sure how much she herself actually knew.

"huh?" she looked over at max, max and her knife, and frowned. "wh - do you just carry that around, like, all the time?" a beat passed, jo squinted and took a closer look at it. in time, her frown faded and made way for a wide, toothy grin. "that's so cool, mayfield. I - wait - you showed me yours, ill show you mine." and jo reached under her jacket, pulling out a small revolver. "nicked it from my dad's safe."

she quickly tucked it away, following behind max. and she nodded as they came to a halt. "i was born ready." she wasn't, but that's besides the point, it sounded cool.

well, not really. that's besides the point, too.

an excited glint in her eyes, jo nodded eagerly, and pushed max aside to crouch behind the door, pulling a bobby pin out of her hair. "we're in luck im a lock picking expert now. I mean, i literally just did this at the lab.", she began, absentmindedly twisting the hair pin around. it was muscle memory, of sorts. of picking the lock on julies door when she'd locked it to sneak out of her window again - and when jo needed to 'borrow' one of her tops or something." i mean, it was way cooler at the lab. like, full on James bond - like the twisty thing in front of the safe -i mean I literally cracked a safe! like in a heist movie, and-" her babbling was quickly interrupted as the door sprung open and jo fell forward onto her elbows. she huffed a groan, coughed." well, anyway. we're in. "

what: chrissy cunningham, i’ll make an honest woman outta you

who: @thequeenofhawkins + jo.

the day had been a continuous string of stupid decisions on jo’s part. she hadn't been thinking straight, hadn't been able to since the carnival, then the lab - stuff just kept happening, granting her no time to be alone, sort out her thoughts.

she'd started the day by calling out of work, opting to spend hours on end in the basement, working on her board. adding the insanity of information she'd gotten from murray, along with flipping through some of the files she'd pocketed from her last time down in the archives with cassie.

staring at the list of people returned from the 'forest commune', at jack's name in particular - insides twisting, at how it was all a lie. everything in that godforsaken town was a lie, a cover up, and strangled by a sudden nausea and overcome with a need to escape the house, she'd grabbed her bag and walkman, wandering around the town aimlessly.

which led her to another stupid decision - apparently, the best place her subconscious could've come up with was blue quarry mall. stood atop the ruins of starcourt mall where, supposedly, her brother had met his end.

she'd stood there for a few moments, contemplating, before storming off as a familiar wave of panic hit her. teetering on the edge of a panic attack, hands shaking, lips trembling, jo snapped back into consciousness the second her feet hit the hardwood floor of the cunningham's second story bathroom. once again her subconscious had led her to the last place she wanted to be - but perhaps the very place she needed to be.

vision cloudy with tears, she tiptoed through the hallway to where she remembered chance's door to be, knocking weakly and cautiously. "chance? are you - are you there?"

WHO: @jofcreman· + chance  WHERE: the foreman residence WHEN: a day after the junkyard/hawkins lab shenanigans 

chance had asked himself the same question about one million times since the town hall: if he could unknow what he knew now…would he? there was something about being blissfully ignorant…something about that peace of mind that undoubtedly appealed to him. however, try as he might, there was no way to forget what he knew and what he’d seen. he thought he’d seen enough at the carnival, but the rabid dogs at the junkyard only added fuel to the fire that evil forces were most definitely at play. was his mother right? was this the work of the devil? or  was it god punishing them for not being god-fearing and pious enough? 

these were the thoughts pulsing through his brain and giving him a headache on his drive over to the foreman residence. it had been exactly a day since the town hall and chance didn’t know who to talk to about this. he couldn’t talk to adam—he got too sensitive about the whole thing. he couldn’t talk to jack…mostly because jack didn’t know any more than he did. and he didn’t want to pester steve about anything given the state he’d been in at the hospital just over two weeks ago. 

so who was left to help? who could he trust? when mrs. foreman opened the front door and assumed that chance was there for jack, he had to correct her and say that he was actually there to see jo. he indulged in a bit of small talk, but eventually managed to swiftly and politely exit the conversation before speeding to jo’s room and giving her two firm knocks before his hand found the doorknob. “jo it’s—” me, “it’s chance. can i come in?” he leaned his head on the doorway, “please.”

+++

she'd been lounging on her bed for a few hours - well, if you could call staring up at the ceiling that served as a projection space for the vast chaos of your mind as lounging. perhaps contemplating was a better word for it. jo was contemplating, had been doing so in the basement until her mother had called her up to discuss one thing or another, she hadn't really listened. however there had been no chance to slip back into the basement and work on the board unnoticed, so her room would have to do.

the last few weeks had proven more eventful than jo could've ever imagined. between being made aware of her brothers death, a disastrous carnival and murray letting her in on everything that had been happening in hawkins starting with will byers disappearance in '83, she'd hardly had a moment to herself to just... think. think about what to make of all this.

she'd always been a skeptic, before jack had gone. always tossing out weird clues and stories people called in at the post, totally wrapped up in her work and her own little world. now, now everything had changed, her whole world had been turned upside down. she'd been subconsciously clinging to the possibility that maybe she was just the weird girl with her impossible conspiracy theories that people had made her out to be. then there'd been the cabin and every fucking thing else, not to mention the most recent of hijinks, when they'd broken into hawkins lab, just barely getting out.

it was decidedly too much for one person to wrap her head around - but jack had been through enough, she didn't see much of julie lately, and the last time she'd properly talked to jonathan, he'd been in the hospital because of injuries her brother had - albeit unwillingly - inflicted on him. she felt guilty enough already, didn't need to burden him with more of her mindless ramblings. jo rubbed the pads of her fingers against each other, blinking up at the ceiling.

max - maybe she'd call max, seeing as she was somehow, even if by default, wrapped up in all this too, and -

a knock on her door made her jump, frown, roll onto her stomach, as she made a non-committal sound, indicating for the other to enter. greeted with the sight of chance, she composed herself somewhat. he hadn't been in her room in, well, forever,and seeing him lean against her doorway, a sense of desperation in his eyes as he pleaded with her, jo felt something inside her twist.

she was quick to nod, patting the space next to her on the bed, sitting up. "what's - what's going on? you okay?"

It looked like the blonde could use a break, and Cassie didn’t blame her. The Hawkins Post looked like something of a war scene, with people flooding the lobby and looking for reporters to talk to. She wasn’t sure what kind of information they could offer besides what had already been published about the carnival, but Cassie wasn’t about to get in the way of an old lady yelling at the receptionist about needing to see the Editor in Chief. She had to have something noteworthy to tell, or else Jo’s boss could point her in the direction of a therapist.

Before she could even mention why she’d come by, Jo was already out of her seat, coffee in hand. She seemed wired, like she hadn’t seen peace in days, and Cassie wouldn’t blame her if it were true. Cassie followed on Jo’s heels, slipping through the people who had somehow sneaked out of the lobby and back toward the offices of the Post. “Did you?” Nancy hadn’t mentioned anything about working with Jo, but it made sense that there would be overlap. “What was pre-college Nancy Wheeler like, anyway? Still about the same she is now?”

At the top of the basement stairs, Cassie paused, thinking of what she’d been looking for in her notebook. “Right. Um, yes, actually. I was looking to see what you might have on those … forest commune people? I just had no idea what happened to any of them, and Nancy didn’t have anything on it at home. Would you have anything on that?” Cassie didn’t want to seem too suspicious about the subject, but after witnessing what had occurred at the carnival, she had to start looking in a new direction.

+++

flipping her keys around on her index finger, jo looked over her shoulder, nodding for cassie to follow her into the basement with a wink. she pocketed her key chain, another sip if coffee as she descended down the stairs, flicking a couple of light switches on the way. "well... i mean, i went to school with her - we never talked much, though." at all, if jo was being honest. but she krnw better than to let the other in on how she'd been a pathetic loner in school - that never really did much in terms of impressing pretty girls.

a shrug, she tried to appeared as unbothered an nonchalant as ever, leaning against a shelf. "never got the impression she liked me much.... shame, really. terrific journalist." oh well.

zoning out for a moment, the mention of the forest commune snapped her back into reality, nearly resulting in a comedy spit take. eyes narrowed, she looked cassie up and down for a second over the brim of her mug, as a familiar thought crossed her mind. one shed been having more frequently after visiting murray and quinn at the hospital, while staring into nothingness or people watching she wondered - how much did they know? the people around her. in town, at work, wherever. were they completely oblivious to what had been going on, much like she herself had been until recently? but... going off the fact that cassie was staying with nancy, well, jo suspected she'd know something.

putting her mug aside on the floor she pulled up a chair, climbing on to get a box of files from one of the top shelves. groaning and cursing under her breath. "i swear the guy that did the filing in her should face the consequences for his crimes." a huff and a puff and jo nearly stumbled, swaying slightly as she got back on the ground, slamming the box onto a nearby table. scrunching her nose at the cloud of dust her action evoked.

"this should cover it. every issue since the commune was announced - if you're looking for something more specific, just.... let me know."

Fuckboard? That was one way to put it. Jack wasn’t expecting much to come out of this session with Jo, that maybe some more secrets would be spilled when it came to his time with Julie and this board that Jo had made, but that was before his sister had began writing. His breath was held as he waited for the first name, not sure what to expect out of the red pen that began scribbling. Jo wasn’t even the type of person to date in high school, though, now that he thought about it, Jack wouldn’t have even noticed if something secret had happened. The thought just pained him, that he’d died before they did things like this, the kind of thing he’d do with Julie.

The reveal of the first name finally came, and Jack nearly dropped both his beer and his jaw on the floor. Chance? There was no way. Chance was the kind of guy to date the exact opposite of Jo. Not only that, but Chance wouldn’t have hooked up with Jo. There was some sort of code between them, an unspoken one, that ruled their high school years. Jack was to never lay a hand on Chrissy, and, in turn, he’d expected that Chance would do the same for Jo and Julie. The same kind of expectation fell on Adam, but then he’d gone on and dated Chrissy, which he supposed turned out to be a hoax if Cole had come into the picture.

“Chance?” he said finally, dumbfounded as he stared at the board and its two slips of paper. “Holy shit. Well, thanks for waiting until after I died to fuck my best friend.” He couldn’t tell if it was better or worse than it happening while he was alive, especially since Chance only assumed he was missing, but Jack had asked for this, after all. 

He watched as she pinned another slip to the board, this one eliciting an even more defensive response from Jo. “Huh. Okay, yeah. Nancy’s a cool girl. Yeah, she’s dating this guy, Thad? Remember, he was at the keg party when you tried to come over and crash our toss?” he reminded her, giving her a small nudge. “Yeah, you can keep going. Not like I have anything to add, given my three-year hiatus.”

+++

her seemingly cool and collected exterior as she added chance to the board was nothing but a facade, a ruse. she knew it wasn't the best move, hooking up with your brother's best friend - too cliche, entirely predictable. but it wasn't like jack had been around. and the both of them losing a sibling, well, that brought people together, a tragic loss - shared trauma. the real shit.

she huffed, her mouth forming around unspoken words as she tried to piece together the circumstances of how 'jo and chance' had come to be but she gave up in time, dropped her hands and gave jack a shrug. "i - it wasn't like that, jack, I mean, i - didn't 'wait' until you were gone to go hook up with your best friend it's - totally complicated and... totally irrelevant now. it's over, anyway. so." another shrug, she took a sip of beer. pointedly ignoring the gnawing feeling inside her, telling her that, perhaps, it wasn't as irrelevant and as 'over' as she thought it'd be.

and so she swiftly moved on, rolling her eyes at the nudge he gave her. "uh yeah. unfortunately, i remember - what kinda name is 'thad' anyway? he's such a fucking.... god, such a douche, why do girls like her always go after guys like him? it's so not fair."

another sip of beer, a small grin tugging at her lips, it suddenly it her that she was enjoying this. spending time with jack, even under the weirdest of circumstances. the guilt she felt over the fact that she had apparently not been close enough with him before he died to actually remember his death was still weighing heavy on her chest, pressing down nauseatingly. and what better time to make up for lost time than the present?

it also hit her, jo noted with an interested quirk of her brow, how comfortable she was talking to jack about girls. how comfortable she felt to open up to him - was this perhaps what normal, not fucked up families functioned like? astounding.

she thought for a moment, index finger tapping against her chin before she hesitantly wrote down another name. "uh - well, do you know, uh, evie melvald by any chance?"

WHO: cassie conrad & @jofcreman· WHERE: the hawkins post, again

The last time Cassie had seen the blonde from the newspaper was at the carnival, when they’d been sat a few rows apart from each other in the Tunnel of Love, and then she’d been pleading with one of the guys who had begun to vomit. She wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or something, but she’d seen them in the parking lot a bit later, too, leaving together when she’d dragged Thad by the shirt to come back to the Wheeler household. Cassie had thought she was cute, but then again, so was the guy Jo was with. Besides, she’d had her car ride around Hawkins with Julie, and that was enough to consider herself happy for Jo and her extremely tall, extremely not female boyfriend. 

That didn’t mean she didn’t want to try and be friends with her, though, not when Nancy had revealed they’d be stuck in Hawkins for an indefinite period of time. Cassie figured she could use a few more friends to make her time not feel so dreadfully long. She was back at the Hawkins Post, at the same office where she’d found Jo the first time, giving a more confident knock on the blonde’s office door this time. “I came by to say hi, and to give you an excuse to not do any work and take me to the archives again. That is, if you don’t have anything more important coming from your boss, who I know isn’t the same guy Nancy worked with, but can’t be any less of an asshole.”

+++

following the days after the carnival, the hawkins post had turned into something resembling dante's ninth circle of hell. interns running around, phones ringing nonstop, the foyer was almost always filled with people looking to share what they had seen that night, or what they'd thought they'd seen, or why they'd always though that mayor spencer was a weak leader, how they'd always known that 'that william hargrove and edward munson' were 'bad apples,just asking for trouble!'. it always settled down a little during lunchtime - no amount of disdain for today's youth or need to complain about something outweighed the primal need for a good lunch - but not nearly as much as jo would have liked it to.

still, she'd managed to sneak out to the staff kitchen, make her way back into her office with a cup of coffee without being seen by a chatty colleague, and slumped down back into her chair. ready to read through the mountains of clues and statements - most of those given voluntarily, meaning people had just come into her office ready to share their side of the story. in some morbid way, this was a big event for the ordinary folks of hawkins. arguably an even bigger one for those who'd been let on what was going on beneath the surface. people like Jo herself, now that murray had revealed the town's secrets to her.

and it was insane to her, that she had to.... come into work, listen to some old lady complain about how billy hargrove had apparently once stolen her beloved garden gnome from her front yard. how she was simply expected to carry on with business as usual while the world went to fucking shit.

so the knock on her door and the sight of cassie were a welcome distraction and jo dropped her pen, rested her gave on her folded hands, giving the other a wide smile. "You couldn't have come at a better time, lovey. Mind if I take my coffee with me?", she asked, it wasn't really a question, she'd already picked it up, keys jangling as she squeezed past cassie, nodding for her to follow. the mention of her former boss drew a scoff from her lips." he's better than the last guy, but not by a long shot. you know, i-I used to work with nancy. we interned the same year.", she muttered, unlocking the door to the basement. "never talked to her much,though. - you looking for anything in particular down here?"

WHO: jack & @jofcreman· WHERE: foreman family basement (tm pending)

Back in high school, Jack didn’t date around much. He had Melissa, his one ex that ended pretty amicably, but that was about it besides the occasional kiss here and there. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get with girls (or guys, but that was a pretty recent development that died with him), but that he just didn’t really want to. He knew it made him an anomaly in the ranks of the football team, but he much preferred hanging out with Adam, Chance, and Steve when they were friends and going to practice. He’d also seen the way Nancy Wheeler had changed Steve, and maybe that was another contributing factor for his aversion to females. 

Now, though, he was back, quite literally from the dead, and Jack knew that didn’t cancel out the kisses he’d had or the one girl he’d slept with, but it felt like it did. The absolute last thing he needed, though, was to find out that someone he was about to pursue had gotten with Jo or Julie in his absence. The thought of kissing someone who had also kissed one of his sisters felt somehow incredibly wrong. There was no way he could do it without ever being able to look one of them in the eye again, which led him and Jo to a blank board in their basement, one identical to that which held all the clues to his death. 

“I don’t even know where to start with this without feeling weirded out, but without it, I’d feel worse,” he admitted, staring at the empty poster board with a sigh. “I guess I’m going to need Julie to contribute to this at some point, too, but she’s been in Gary, so it can’t be as exhaustive as your list, right?” Jack picked up a marker, writing Jo’s name on a slip of paper before pinning it to the board. 

+++

this was.... odd, to say the least. fucking weird, if jo was being honest, and a year ago or so she would've never agreed to it, not in a million years. but that was before jack had come back from the dead, that was when jack hadn't even been around to ask, when jo had wished and begged for him to come back and ask her to do stupid and weird things with him. so, well, this might as well just happen.

and when she thought about it, it wasn't as much of an outlandish request at all. the thought of her brother or sister locking lips with someone she'd once exchanged saliva with? horrifying. ghastly. she'd have to get julie to pitch in on the makeshift murder board eventually, too.

not really a murder board, not her usual style. a romance board - god, too cheesy. jo dragged her teeth between her lips, restlessly tapping her finger against her chin. she watched as jack pinned her name to the middle of the board and jumped up from the couch, nearly knocking over the beer she'd placed on the floor in front of her with her foot, marker in hand, she unscrewed the cap, letting it fall onto the floor.

she hummed approvingly, nodded. "let the fuckboard commenced, then." and got to work writing the first name on a slip of paper. her insides twisting as she looked at it, there was still a funny feeling associated with him, the memory of their time spent together. before she'd gone off the rails, when they'd bonded over a missing-and-presumed-dead sibling. a sigh, she pinned it on the board, drew a red piece of string between the two names.

"chance cunningham. we were..." not friends, not lovers, either. "something." she settled on, shrugged. "summer fling, I guess." with feelings reserved for something more. "you were gone and i... well, we hooked up. i snuck out, we did the whole secret romance thing, i felt like julie."

immediately, jo picked up another slip of paper, wrote down the name of "nancy wheeler", another piece of string, this time there was another slip of paper pinned to the middle, for clarification. it read 'crush'. she turned to jack, a stern look on her face. "we didn't... there wasn't anything, barely even talked to her. she's got a boyfriend i think, some imbecile from her college. but she's still off limits." hands on her hips, she stated at nancy's name for a moment longer, with a woeful longing in her eyes. " we interned on the post together. man, I was head over heels, im telling you. she never even noticed me, i don't think. "

another beat passed, then jo shook her head softly. enough pining over what could've been - what probably couldn't have been, either way. "any questions so far? or want me to keep going?" not that the list was extensively long.

…..

Jonathan noticed a shift inthe room after his attempt at a joke. For a moment, he thought it mayhave been due to his choice of humour but the way her eyes hovered down to his cast informed him otherwise. He placed the unfinished pudding cup back on his tray. Jo wasn’t fine. 

He buckled up for whatever was aboutto be said. The guilt dancing in her tone and pauses concerned him. His ownexpression faltered to something more austere. He remained quiet, head firmly planted back in his pillow and titled to watch her speak . Jonathan wasn’t a religious person - he’d never really been to church, with the exception of funerals, but the four walls of his hospital room started to feel like a confessional. This conversation would have been easier to navigate with someone closer to him. He couldn’t interrupt her with anything that would make this better– nothing would, really. Technically, Jack was responsible, along withthe others. Nobody would be in this hospital otherwise but it wasn’t her responsibility to carry.

“No – Jo.” He blinked,shoulders raising as he searched for the right words. “It’s not … dumb.” Jonathan didn’t want her leaving this conversation feeling even more culpable. It would be added to the long listof moments that tormented him in this hospital room. “The carnival and everything, it isn’t-” he paused, chin lowering down to his chest, emphasizing what came next “…your fault.”

His eyebrows knit to support a look of curiosity. “What makesyou say that … the commune is connected to what happened - with Jack.” Pulling in the brim of his lower lip, he continued,“I think you might be right about that.” He hoped validation might provide Jo with enough reason to stay - maybe even make her feel better, if that was possible. In his experience, conspiracies had a funny way of carrying an ounce of truth in this town. Jonathan had been reserved in his earlier interactions with her - careful to avoid discussions about the undercurrent of catastrophic shit that always existed in Hawkins. Almost dying made him much more eager to pull heads together and tackle renewed problems in town. Whatever Jo suspected - or thought she knew, might fill in the blanks of his own thoughts. All he knew right now was that Barb’s return from the dead was looking increasingly more sinister.

+++

brows drawn together, her teeth pulled over her bottom lip. her name managed to snap her from completely slipping down that spiral of guilty overthinking, but enough damage had been done as was. and she briefly thought about how funny it was, when you heard someone say your name, really say it, for the first time. not in passing or as a wayward greeting. it felt weird, but in a way also like this marked the end of at least some of the initial awkwardness, the hesitancy. some of it would undoubtedly still remain, too deeply rooted in either of their personalities. but still. 

also - the fact that jo was soon about to dump all the supernatural information murray had just dumped on her on jonathan, well, that sort of thing surely also worked wonders for bringing two people past that initally embarrassing and uncomfortable stage of only just getting to know one another.

‘it’s not dumb’. and again, the same feeling that had washed over her when murray had said he’d believed her, too, resurfaced. further confirmation that she wasn’t losing it, her concerns were ... valid, at least. whether or not jonathan believed her - at least he didn’t think she was insane. jo rather thought she was sometimes. and it felt good to be proven wrong. in a town like hawkins it was vital if you wanted to survive, or else you’d fall victim to your own thoughts, your self-sabotage.

slowly and catiously, jo nodded, lowered herself back into the chair from where she’d sprung up a moment ago, in case jonathan would’ve cursed her out, told her to leave him alone. he hadn’t, so she stayed, still tense, nails digging painfully into her palms.

oh, where to start. “i ... “, her lips formed around words that just wouldn’t escape her mouth, trying to piece together a coherent sentence in her head. it all sounded like gibberish, jo reached into her bag to retrieve her notebook. her own handwriting nearly unintelligible, where she’d scribbled down tales of ‘demogorgons’ and russians underneath starcourt mall, all while murray had done his best to explain to her what had been going on in that once quaint and quiet town of theirs. some of it still made no sense to her, most of it, really, but she already knew she’d spend the rest of the day in the recluse of the basement, working on piecing together that board of hers.

“back when ... the summer that the mall burned down, jack ... died. and i don’t remember it, nobody does, only julie,my sister, and - and steve. he was dead and now he’s not anymore and...” good job, joanie, good job on not sounding like a complete nutter. taking a deep breath, she gripped the edges of her notebook tighter, hans trembling slightly. “adam richards killed him. i don’t know - how or why, i just know he did. and... and he died, too. in that ‘fire’.” and she threw him a look, probing as if to ask if he knew . knew about the supernatural happenings in town. murray had mentioned his name but only in passing, and jo wasn’t sure just how entangled jonathan was in that whole ‘upside down’ business. a weird name for a hell beneath hawkins, she thought.

“cut to now, they’re back, all of a sudden, inexplicably. back from the dead, and they’re saying they’ve been in some ‘commune’ in the woods, and they can’t even remember most of it!” feeling herself grow frustrated from not being able to give all the information at once, she leaned forward, elbows perched on her knees. “i knew there was something... wrong with that cult, you know? like, why - what reason would my super popular star athlete brother have for dropping out of his senior year and follow some commune into the forest? it just didn’t make any sense. so i ... dug a little.” she glossed over the fact that she had been digging for the past four years or so. “i met murray bauman, we talked, i - i couldn’t be sure. i wasn’t until .. .the carnival.” a feeling of dread pooling in the pit of her stomach as she mentioned it, jo pressed her lips into a tight line, overcome with a momentary wave of nausea. 

once that had passed, she continued, leaning in further, a dreadful determination in her voice. “it was the people from the commune, it was all the commune, jonathan. it started with the black ... goo they vomited on that tunnel of love ride, you remember? and then - then all the crazy shit that followed, it was all them. just them. it was like they were- like they were possessed or something.” she exhaled in a short huff, straightened her shoulders. “i don’t .. .i don’t know the whole connection, yet, it’s all so... blurry, so many pieces. and tommy hagan, he - he was there too, for some fucking reason. i don’t know, i - “a shrug, she looked up to meet jonathan’s eyes again. “sorry. that was a lot.”

It felt too terrifying to wrap his mind around fully. Adam knew he was capable of horrible things when he had blacked out - he’d tried to help with the fireworks, and though he hadn’t lit the match that killed five people, he had still helped. But to find out that he’d done that to his best friend? Jack? One of the kindest guys he knew, who had never done anything to Adam? It felt unthinkable. As he sat in the floor, head in his hands, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he tried his hardest to remember doing that. 

But nothing came

He couldn’t remember any of that last week - Adam couldn’t even remember how he’d been possessed. If it weren’t for the nightmarish flash of the memory of threatening Cole, Adam wouldn’t even have any inkling of what he’d done leading up to his death. That summer had been fun. Full of bonfires by the lake, working as a lifeguard, sneaking off with Cole and making plans on their escape to California. Adam remembered being happy before it had all gone black. He remembered sharing beers with Jack at a party, dancing to Summer of ‘69 in his kitchen to make Cole laugh, watching The Price is Right with Beth, taking Cindy to see The Goonies. And then everything went black and apparently, he’d killed Jack. 

He worried for a moment that he might be sick again before Jo followed him inside. “…I don’t know how I did it,” Adam told her weakly, looking up at her as she threw her bag down. “Or why. God, I have no fucking idea why.” He was horrifyingly, blissfully glad for a moment that he didn’t know. That he might never know. Because living with the memory of killing Jack sounded like absolute torture, and maybe this was kinder for him to not. But he didn’t really deserve kindness, did he? “…you can still punch me if you want,” Adam choked out, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand pathetically. 

Jo sat down, though she seemed like she was still disappointed with the lack of an answer on why Adam had suddenly gone insane and killed his best friend. “The night of the carnival?” He repeated, looking over at her as he took a deep breath to try to calm down a little bit. “I don’t… I remember getting there. Jack and I played some game for a bit, then there was the mayor’s speech and stuff. We got on the Tunnel of Love, and when we got off…it all just goes black,” He admitted, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t remember anything else until I woke up and everyone was hurt. I didn’t even have a scratch on me. Nothing.” 

+++

she looked him up and down for a second. god, he looked awful, and jo felt a familiar pang of guilt in her stomach, because she was the reason he looked as busted as he did. her hand moved on its own accord and she suddenly found it hovering awkwardly above his shoulder, wondering if she should - well, reach out and touch? there wasn’t really anything that could make their present situation more, well, awkward. still, she only managed one weak pat. an attempt at a back rub that she very quickly decided against, letting her hand drop to her side again. what was she doing, comforting the guy who’d killed her brother? comforting him for committing his crime, too?

not that he’d done it willingly, and jo knew that - or rather she became increasingly aware of it, seeing how shaken he was. but still. she shook her head, then let it fall back against the wall with a sigh. “’m not gonna punch you while you’re crying. that would just be, like, cruel.” and adam didn’t deserve it. and jo sort of resented him for the fact that he didn’t, because if he did then this would’ve all been so much easier.

but this was what they were working with. back to the matter at hand. “the...the night of the carnival, right.” she nodded for him to continue, continued nodding every so often to signal that she was still listening. a habit she’d unconciously picked up in her days as an intern, after she’d heard one of the other women working at the post complain that the men never listened to them, never made an effort to pretend to, either. and as she nodded jo did her best not to let adam in on the fact that she was itching to know more about the night of jack’s death, too. she’d ripped open plenty of old wounds already, maybe she’d come back in a couple of days or so.

“ok so...something must’ve happened on that tunnel, then. interesting...”, jo mused, more to herself, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. “i - do you remember the, uh, the black goo stuff? like, all you - all you ‘commune’ people, you guys started, like, vomiting that icky black stuff. it was super gross.”

xx.

Eyeing the… unique way Jo wiped up the spilled coffee brought an amused smile to the corners of Murray’s lips. He took a sip just as she clarified where she’d gotten the coffee. He could definitely tell, but swallowed it without any indication. It was better than hospital coffee, by a slim margin. “Stronger is good. I won’t be sleeping anytime soon, anyways,” he admitted after taking another sip.

Murray’s brow furrowed at her concern. He supposed Quinn had made some friends in town, but he hadn’t known that she and Jo had crossed paths in any significant way. “You know Quinn?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Thanks for checking on her– on us– either way.” Murray’s eyes gleamed at her confession, and he instinctively leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

That pesky pang of guilt from before reared its ugly head when Jo asked if he’d been at the carnival. He should have been there. Though he had no way of knowing something would happen, he should’ve known something would happen. With his free hand, Murray rubbed sleep out of his eyes and re-focused on Jo’s words, nodding to encourage her to keep going. 

Without comment, Murray set the mug on the ground and reached for his briefcase. He pulled out the tips he’d furiously scrawled earlier, the few hours he was home, and laid them out for Jo to inspect. Stories of black goo, of a Department of Homeland Security van on the scene, of alleged friends fighting each other, Tommy H being thrown through the air. “You’re not the only one thinking that, kid. And… it wouldn’t be the first time. In Hawkins, at least.”

Turning to her with an intensity in his eyes, Murray gestured to the papers strewn across his briefcase. “Tell me what you saw. I promise I won’t have you committed… I believe you.” He assured her, a hint of a smile breaking the otherwise stoic rigidity of his expression. 

He’d heard whispers about the ‘commune kids’, to be sure, even reports that they’d been written off as dead. But what Jo was saying was a different angle. His expression softened and he exhaled a long breath. “Jesus,” he sat with that for a moment, giving her apparent grief its space. “What do you mean he doesn’t remember?”

+++

a quick nod, jo scrambled to look anywhere but his eyes. “yup. we, uh, we know each other. sure do.” murray didn’t have to know everything, after all. the fact that jo seemingly forgot how to act like a normal, functioning, rational human being when she was around quinn was entirely and utterly irrelevant in this scenario. 

anyway. she cleared her throat, mirrored murray as she leaned forward, too. fingers nervously drumming agains her thoughts, toying with a loose thread hanging from her trousers. heavens, she was itching to tell someone about this - about all the clues and evidence she’d spent months, years collecting, pinning them up on her board, trying to piece them together. and her face lit up in astonishment as she saw him pull out pieces of paper, one after the other - maybe, just maybe this would bring clarity. maybe, with his help, the pieces would finally all fall into place.

because quite frankly, jo was beginning to feel sick of her life feeling like one big msytery that she was unable to figure out for the life of her. not the first time. too engrossed in the evidence in front of her she could only manage a weak scoff.i believe you. and her gaze shot up, a confused yet relieved expression on her face, it was what she’d been missing, that confirmation. she wasn’t going insane. or at least there was someone going insane with her. whatever it was - she wasn’t alone, and it was all she needed.

jo made quick work of grabbing the papers and spreading them out on the floor - it was a bit macabre, the sight of her kneeling in front of that jambled up mess of notes right next to quinn’s hospital bed - and then leaned over to pull her own folder from her bag. connecting the clues, seeing where they coincided - black goo, she’d heard that too. and someone had called in about homeland security, and ‘that little rascal tommy hagan’. 

once she was finished with that, she opened up another section of notes and clues that didn’t stick to the theme, laying them out in a row next to each other for murray to see. blood rushing in her ears, a hot flush on her face, jo felt like she was on fire. with every second passing more slowly, feeling more intense. it was what proper big shot journalists must feel like when the seemingly insane hunch they’d had started to pay out and make sense. it was addicting.

“i mean that he does. not. remember. that he died. we literally had a funeral for him, everything - and i didn’t remember, either! julie did, steve did, not me. he proper, proper died in that mall fire and - “ jo stopped, eyes narrowed. “was there even a mall fire? there wasn’t, right?” figures. she whipped around again, brows furrowed. “you said this wasn’t the first time. bauman, i’m gonna need you to tell me everything you know. in explicit detail.”

…

A nurse usually came into his room at around the same time every day to hand off his lunch. This daily ritual wasn’t one that he necessarily looked forward to. Most days he suffered through mashed potatoes, pudding, and a very questionable meatloaf. Only one of those items was desirable right now - the pre-packaged one. He laid in his bed, propped by a pillow as he ate his pudding in silence.

“Hey.” Jonathan was actually really happy to see Jo walk into his room. He didn’t get very many visitors in this hospital room besides his own family.

Based on their last conversation, the honesty didn’t surprise him. Jonathan really did look like shit. He chuckled, cringing as pain radiated in his chest. “No - I know.” He glanced down at the pudding in his hand, plopping the spoon down into the cup as he nodded in amused agreement. “I look like shit.” The visible cast on his arm and light bruising scattered on his body probably made him look worse than he actually felt - which is saying a lot. “I might skip the carnival tickets next time.”

“How are you doing?” Jo didn’t look like she was one-hundred percent fine herself. Nobody in this hospital seemed to be doing okay - emotionally or physically.  “You… look a little beat up yourself.” Jonathan recalled seeing her at one point on the harrowing boat ride through the tunnel of love but lost track after that.

+++

she chuckled at his joke, though weakly so, it was more of a pointed exhale, one corner of her mouth twisted up, she nodded to herself. “yeah...yeah, no carnivals for me anytime soon, either.” that small exchange had briefly lightened the air between the two of them, however as her gaze fell down, lingered on the cast for a second too long, jo quickly felt herself return to her previously somber mood. 

they just couldn’t have nice things, could they? even something as innocent as a carnival, quickly turned into disaster. a never ending cycle of misery. “that’s... one hell of a question right about now, byers, i’m gonna be honest.”, jo gave an amused huff, raised her brows, fingers clawing into the strap of her bag. oh, fuck it, she thought, deciding to ditch the awkwardness as she pulled up a chair next to jonathan’s bedise, plopping down with a groan, shoulder slumped. 

“i’m - i’m fine, yeah, i just - “bag discarded on the floor, she rubbed her fingertips against the pad of her thumb, in search of friction that would, in turn, hopefully rid her of her tenseness. “i know that, uh, my .. .my brother is sort of, uh, responsible? for - well, this “, she gestured towards his cast, the hospital room in general. “i guess i - i don’t know. i feel sort of responsible for it. for him, i guess.” a shrug, she sniffled. “so, uh - sorry. in his name. you gotta know that jack, he’s - it’s not like him. he’s not like this, he wouldn’t - never.” a firm shake over her head, jo flexed her fingers, eyes dropping down to her lap. “he wasn’t like this, before - ‘the commune’. it’s something to do with that cult, i just know it, jack wouldn’t - “

she cleared her throat, stopped herself mid-sentence. but jack wasn’t among the people who’d returned from the commune. he’d died, and jo wondered if there’d ever been a commune to begin with. she shook her head, another shrug. “sorry. sorry, i know this isn’t the right time to dump all my dumb conspiracy shit on you. i - i can go, if you want. you should probably rest, anyway, right?”

who: Evie & @jofcreman·

where: Melvald’s (gonna start saying the ‘m’ word atp)

Marker grasped in between her teeth, Evie taped a hastily-scrawled sign to the front door of Melvald’s. ‘Out of milk- check tomorrow :(.’ She waved goodbye to the woman and her toddler who’d just bought her last gallon and made her way back to the counter as the door jingled shut behind them. Tucking the pen behind her ear, Evie jumped at the sound of someone in the store. She hadn’t noticed the blonde slip in as the previous customers left.

“Christ, you scared me,”  she laughed, took a second to look the girl over. Evie leaned an elbow against the counter, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “What are you looking for?” she asked. Evie wasn’t usually so hands-on with customers, preferring to let them do their own shopping, but she made exceptions for attractive people around her age. “And we’re out of milk, so don’t say milk. I’m not going to bitch out our dairy supplier for you.”  

+++

this was fine, this was ok. jo nodded to herself, a firm hold on the strap of her bag as she made her way down the street from the post to melvald’s. her usual lunch routine, pretty much ever since she’d started working there. whatever got her out of that office. whatever got her as far away as possible from chuck bailey who seemed to think that he could bond with her by tearing down the other three women who worked at the post for being ‘ too feminine’. so melvald’s it was. 

but some time ago, her escapes to melvald’s had changed in their nature. precisely ever since evie melvald had returned to hawkins. someone jo had barely exchanged a word with before, not even a nod in passing, she’d flown entirely under her radar - until now, that was. now jo found herself wondering if she should relax her grip on the strap, if it would seem more cool and aloof if she wore her bag across her body rather than lazily slung across her shoulder, wondered if she should perhaps pop on her headphones, maybe chew some gum. it was pathetic but joanne foreman had never claimed to be anything else in the company of enticing and beautiful men and woman. 

no time left for adjustments, she was already stood in front of the door, despite having walked considerably slow to buy herself more time. here went nothing, jo clicked her tongue and slipped inside the store, unnoticed, past a woman and her toddler. immediately busying herself with a box of descaling agent in the random aisle she’d slipped into, pretending to read the back of the packed. entirely lost in thought, so much so that the whole thing slipped right out of her hands. “shit! shit, sorry. sorry.”

jo quickly picked it up, gave the other a sheepish, apologetic smile. great job, joanne. “i, uh - no. not milk. ‘m not here for milk.” ‘i’m here because i have a huge pathetic crush on you.’ “uh.....do you have, like, nature valley bars or something? like - snacks ?”

Jo seemed…. angry. With him. And Adam wasn’t sure why. What had he done to Jack? The last time they’d talked had been at the carnival, when Adam had beaten him at Down a Clown, but this was definitely unrelated to that. Before that, it had been when Adam had come out to Jack and told him about dating Cole - but Jack had seemed fine with it! So Adam couldn’t understand what he had done to piss Jo off in the last few days. 

“Considering?” Adam repeated, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Consider the carnival? He hadn’t thought Jack got hurt - he hadn’t seen him in the hospital. But maybe he had been? Maybe Jack and Jo were made that Adam hadn’t come to see him? “Did he get hurt or something?” He asked. And then he got his answer on why Jo was upset with him. 

“I…killed Jack?” Adam repeated, freezing where he stood on the front porch. “No, I didn’t. No,” He shook his head, taking a step back and running into the door. “No, because I wouldn’t...” No, Adam wouldn’t do that. He would never, ever lay a finger on his best friend. But Adam wasn’t Adam when he blacked out, was he? And there was a whole week of his life in 1985 that Adam had no memory of, except for the time he’d nearly strangled Cole. If he had almost done that to the love of his life, what was he capable of doing to his best friend? “Oh my god…” Adam slumped backwards into the house, leaving the door open for Jo to follow. Without being able to stop himself, Adam doubled over the trashcan, throwing up the contents of his stomach at the thought of killing his best friend. His teammate. The guy he’d spent countless nights hanging out with in high school, the boy who’d come over and watch movies with him or join him at parties. The man he trusted more than almost anyone else, and who should have been able to trust Adam too. 

“I don’t remember doing that,” Adam sunk to the floor in his kitchen, tone almost a whisper despite them being alone now. Head in his hands, Adam pulled at his own hair. “I love Jack. He’s my best friend. How could I… how could I do that?” He asked, knowing Jo wouldn’t have an answer. 

+++

now, on the short walk to adam’s house ( two blocks, jo walked fast ) , she’d gone through almost every possible scenario, every way this conversation could possibly go. most of the time it had ended with either jo punching him in the face or adam angrily shutting the door, calling the cops, maybe. either way, she’d been angry in every scenario, ready to haul him over the coals, ready to end him for what he’d done to jack. however - this hadn’t happene in any of the scenarios. this being adam richards hauling ass into the kitchen emptying his guts into the rubbish.

jo had followed him into the house, only because she thought he might try and make a run for it. but quite obviously he... hadn’t. and her angry features softened, made way for a dumbfounded yet slightly concerned expression, she opened her mouth, stumbling over what to say. fuck. this had - this had not gone to plan, like, at all. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go! adam was supposed to confess and - “no!” she voiced her running thoughts, dropped her bag to the ground with an exasperated sigh, threw her hands in the air, stopped herself short of stomping her foot like a defiant child. “you’re not - ugh! you’re supposed to say how you did it and why and then - then i punch you for what you did and instead youre - ugh!” she groaned and did stomp her foot like a defiant child. “you’re not suppsoed to make me feel bad for you, asshole.”

but she did, and she felt guilt as hell, too, as she slid down next to him, brows drawn together in worry. jo sighed, a weary, heavy sound. “i don’t know, richards.”, she muttered after a moment, despite knowing it wasn’t a question asked for her to answer. she gave a little shrug, looked down at her hands. “i just - after what happened at the carnival, i don’t know what to believe anymore.” why was it always this fucking difficult? “can you just - can you tell me what you remember? about that night? promise i won’t hit you, i just - i’m just trying to figure out what happened. what really happened.”

🗞

so the same way quinn had kept her dad a ‘secret’ when she went off to college to pursue journalism…he’d kept her a secret too. which was fine. but she imaged it’d make for some interesting introductions now that she was stuck in hawkins. “don’t apologize,” quinn rasped with a shrug, crossing her arms casually as she used her back as a door stop, “how could you have known?” she relaxed her face into a dimpled smile and shook her head at the girl in front her to signal that it was no big deal, all was well. 

although it was brief, there was a moment. a pause between the breathy laughs and the awkward introductions in which the two girls held each other’s gazes and stared. it was safe to say quinn’s interest was piqued. she’d met girls like this one in chicago—unbearably cool and often intimidating. but something about the way she was holding her dumb conspiracy stuff and how flustered she seemed made her endearing. “i doubt it’s boring,” she insisted, watching jo curiously as she stepped into murray’s lair, “but nice to meet you too.” 

with the introductions out of the way, quinn let her nosiness guide her. she shut the front door and side stepped past jo to the kitchen table that was littered with books and mugs and other knick knacks. she slid into a chair and stared up at jo somewhat expectantly. “so…” she wiggled her brows and stared at the materials jo had brought over, “does any of that have to do with the alleged forest commune?” she clicked her tongue, “murray told me what he knows…” quinn figured if she let jo in on what she knew, that maybe she’d be seen as trustworthy, “and i already figured out that you can’t leave this town once you come in…so…” her face dropped slightly at that. she was still grappling with being stuck, but she wasn’t going to bother jo with that. 

+++

it was a pathetic thought, really, but the way quinn stood there, so effortlessly cool, arms crossed over her chest , jo’s mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry and she coked on a cough, attempting to cover it up by clearing her throat soundly and over-exaggeratedly a couple of times. great first impression, joanie, super. despite between wanting to keep looking at quinn as she moved past her into the ‘house’, murray’s rather eccentric style of decorating soon managed to captrue her attention. her gaze wandered around, momentarily staying on trinkets and other odd knick knacks and yeah, jo thought grinning to herself, this is exactly what she’d imagined murray’s home to be like. if you could call it that. lair, that described it better.

having passed the stage of initial flustered akwardness, jo dropped her bag to the floor and slumped into a chair, moving some stuff around on the cluttered kitchen table to make space for the copies. she nodded, fell back against the backrest with a huff. “yeah, well, you say ‘alleged forest commune’, i say ‘people kidnapping cult’ but whatever.” a small chuckle fell from her lips, though the sound ceased as soon as it had appeared because oh yeah, right. there might not even have been a commune - or there might have been, but jack hadn’t been in it. jack had been dead. he’d died. the nausea hit her like a punch to the gut, jo barely kept her composure, kept herself from doubling over and hurling. “i don’t wanna, like, intrude or anything, but do you happen to have some coffee? or ... “, she shrugged, met quinn’s eyes with a look that said ‘or something stronger’. scratch the ‘or’. 

𝐖𝐇𝐎: Virginia Driscoll & @jofcreman··········

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: Ginny learns that Jo is not a lesbian nor dead

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: Lover’s Lake!

Virginia wasn’t too bummed out about the carnival. People died, aw, at least it wasn’t her! And who the fuck was Petey the Mall Cop? Not anyone of importance to her, that’s for sure! Okay, she wasn’t so heartless. She cared that there was an attack at such a beloved Hawkins events and that lives were lost, but there was no personal connection she felt other than how will this affect my uncle’s campaign? It’s why she didn’t feel some compulsive need to visit anyone in the hospital or attend some stupid candlelight vigil. It wouldn’t bring anyone back and what good would it do her? 

Instead of moping, she found herself at Lover’s Lake. It was cloudy, a little hazy, and while Virginia could have wept that there was no sun out and about, it did feel nice to just jump in the lake for a few minutes without having to worry about sunblock or the egregious summer heat coming down on her. She looked to her left, spotting Jo Foreman. “Hey JoJo,” she cooed, tilting her head to the side. “Funny seeing you here. I like, totally thought you had run off to join one of those lesbian communes,” a pause. “Or like, completely died. Happy to see you’re still kicking, Foreman.”

+++

it had been - fuck, yeah, jo didn’t know how long it had been since the carnival and her talk with jack, followed by adam and then, eventually, murray. the days had began to blur into one another, sometime around their camping trip to lover’s lake. the cabin. and now the carnival. just when you thought it couldn’t get crazier and messier, the hawkins’ curse pulled through, and quite frankly, jo was exhausted. she’d gotten the afternoon off, for some reason her boss had decided to show mercy , having made her work overtime ever since the carnival. it was whatever, jo didn’t particularly care where his sudden chane in demeanor had come from, so she didn’t question it, simply enjoyed her time off. 

and usually, she would’ve gone straight home and into the basement, maybe throwing in a frantic walkie call to murray every then and again while she connected one clue with another via red string.  but her bike hadn’t stopped at the foreman residence and she instead found herself at lover’s lake all of a sudden. she jotted that down to her usual bike ride and walkman induced disassociation, and the fact that .. whatever they’d seen in the cabin that night hadn’t left her mind since. maybe this was a sign, that she needed to go back there. eventually, though, seeing as now she was entirely unprepared. her bag only held her work camera, a notepad, a granola bar and some smokes, not exactly everything she’d bring to an investigation. a paranormal investigation, she corrected herself and frowned. god, this town really was fucking cursed.

and apparently, virginia driscoll was part of the infamous hawkins curse. or jo’s own personal version of it. lips pressed togehter, deep sigh, jo mustered up a smile and turned to face ginny. “ginny. how’s it hanging?” she took a few steps closer, clutching the strap of her bag. “i don’t know if this is, like, some attempt at a joke about my brother and the commune but if it is, it’s certainly ill-timed and tasteless. so, sorry to disappoint, but neither have i joined a commune, nor am i a lesbian, ginny. but i’m flattered.”