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˖ ☘︎ ﾟ ꒰͡ ͜ Ï ͜ ͡꒱ ⠀˖chapter one: the vanishing of will byers

CHAPTER SUMMARY ˖ ☘︎ ﾟ ꒰͡ ͜ Ï ͜ ͡꒱ ⠀˖ on the night of november 6th, 1983, donna spends some time with her closest friends, unaware that it would be the last day of normality in hawkins, indiana.

PAIRING ˖ ☘︎ ﾟ ꒰͡ ͜ Ï ͜ ͡꒱ ⠀˖ steve harrington x donna sinclair (OC)

WARNINGS ˖ ☘︎ ﾟ ꒰͡ ͜ Ï ͜ ͡꒱ ⠀˖ angst, crushes, slow burn, relationship issues, swearing, background, bullying, gossip

other chapters ~ donna's character profile ~ other characters

at the turnbow house, the living room smelled like microwave popcorn and the faint apple wax candle kelly always had going on the table out in the foyer. the dimly lit lamp with the ivory crooked shade shined only a corner of the room as and the blue glow of the tv played MASH on low volume.

donna sat tucked into one end of the worn floral couch, on the side where the lamp was on the side table with her jean covered legs curled under her and a half-finished cyndi lauper cassette sleeve balanced on her knee as she flipped through it absentmindedly.

next to her, veronica was cross-legged, picking at a loose thread on her oversized duran duran shirt, and her cheeks were still pink from laughing too hard a minute ago.

on the carpet, mallory had her back against the front of the couch with her knees drawn up, chewing on the edge of a perfectly pink manicured nail. she looked like she was trying to disappear into the shag rug while sprawled on her stomach in the middle of the floor was robin, surrounded by little plastic bags of colorful gemstone beads, helping an excited eight-year-old tina turnbow string together what was supposed to be a “magic protection” bracelet.

“so samuel literally yelled at molly right in front of mr. davis,” robin was saying, tongue poking out as she threaded a tiny rose quartz bead for tina, “called her a flat-note disaster or something dramatic like that. mr. davis turned redder than his stupid baton and kicked them both out of rehearsal.... they had to sit in the band office for the rest of the period like naughty toddlers.”

veronica snorted, “samuel’s been waiting for an excuse to blow up at her since she got that flute solo over him last month. he’s so damn petty.”

“petty is an understatement,” donna added while shaking her head, with her dark curls following, “i saw him in the cafeteria afterward slamming his tray like the world personally wronged him. molly looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her.”

a young tina tugged on robin’s sleeve, “is rose quartz for love?”

“yep, kiddo. keeps the drama away.” robin winked, handing her the next bead.

the conversation drifted to which couples at Hawkins High were definitely breaking up before christmas, who was secretly hooking up behind the bleachers, and the usual high school gossip that felt so huge in the moment.

however, it was mainly robin and veronica talking about that. donna noticed the way mallory hadn’t said a word in at least ten minutes. the blonde's usual loud laugh was missing, and she kept staring at the carpet like it had answers to questions she had in her brain.

donna nudged veronica lightly with her elbow to quiet her, then leaned forward over the edge of the couch, “mal? you okay?”

mallory exhaled through her nose, shoulders rising and falling, “i hope so.”

robin glanced up from the bracelet, eyebrows raised, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

mallory hugged her knees tighter, “jonathan and i got into it again. he’s out working tonight... some extra shift at the darkroom or whatever. we were supposed to do photos together at that thanksgiving charity thing downtown tomorrow, but he bailed last minute. i had to go alone. again.” her voice cracked just a little on the last word, “he’s been so distant lately.... like he’s here but not really here, you know?”

veronica shook her head slowly, dark hair falling over one shoulder, “you know what people say about him at school, mal.”

“don’t go there,” mallory snapped, sharper than usual.

veronica put her hands up, “i’m not trying to be mean. i’m just saying… jonathan’s got a lot going on. everyone knows that because his family stuff is rough. i hope it gets better for him, that’s all.”

donna bit her lip, hesitating. she twisted the cassette sleeve in her hands until the plastic crinkled. finally she spoke up softly.

“mal?”

mallory looked up, green eyes tired.

“have you… noticed him talking to nancy wheeler in the halls lately?”

“nancy wheeler?” mallory repeated, like the name tasted bad.

“yeah,” donna said quietly.

“of course i have,” mallory muttered, “and i don’t like it one bit.”

robin let out a low whistle, tying off tina’s bracelet, “i wouldn’t sweat it too much. she’s with king steve, remember?” she shot donna a knowing smirk.

donna rolled her eyes hard enough that everyone noticed. the whole room knew about her dumb, hopeless hallway crush on king steve. everyone in this room knows how she’d freeze mid-step whenever steve harrington strutted by with tommy and carol with his hair perfectly flipped and that easy grin on his face like he owned the whole school.

which, let’s be real, he kind of did.

“lucky nance,” donna scoffed under her breath.

“yeah, lucky nance needs to teach jonathan a thing or two about not standing up his girlfriend,” mallory said bitterly.

she pushed herself up off the floor in one fluid motion, brushing carpet fuzz off her jeans.

right then, the doorway creaked and kelly turnbow appeared with a little four-year-old derek balanced on her hip.

he was already in his spaceship pajamas, hair damp from a bath, clutching a stuffed dinosaur.

“girls,” kelly said gently, “it’s getting pretty late. maybe start thinking about heading home soon?”

veronica hopped up first, always the responsible one in her own house, “yeah, mom. we’re good.”

the mood shifted like someone turned down the volume since jackets were grabbed from the pile by the door with donna’s denim one with the pins, robin’s oversized army surplus coat that swallowed her whole beside it, and mallory’s cheer warm-up jacket. shoes were slipped on in the entryway, laces tied quick.

veronica leaned against the doorframe as they bundled up.

“everyone will be in first period tomorrow, right? no excuses.” she pointed at robin, “that means you, buckley. no being late for the fifteenth time this semester.”

robin scratched the back of her head, grinning sheepishly, “maybe.”

the girls laughed, the sound light and easy again for a second. tina waved her new bracelet from the couch as derek yawned against his mom’s shoulder.

a coupe of minutes pass and most of the girls, the non-turnbows, waked out into the cold November night as their breath fogged in the air. mallory’s keys are already jingling as she led the way to her yellow car parked at the curb.

the engine of mallory's yellow chevy cavalier hummed low as she pulled away from the curb, with headlights cutting through the thick november dark. donna sank into the passenger seat, buckling the seatbelt across her sweater, the fabric still warm from the turnbow living room.

mallory gripped the wheel a little tighter than usual, with streetlights flickering across her face in orange streaks.

in the back, robin scooted right up to the middle, arms draped over the front seats so her chin was practically resting between them. the girl's frizzy hair tickled donna's shoulder every time the car hit a bump.

donna let out a slow sigh, watching the familiar houses slide by, “mal, listen… you can’t just keep letting this stuff build up with jonathan. you gotta say something.”

robin nodded quick, words tumbling out a little faster than normal, “yeah, exactly. like, tomorrow. talk to him tomorrow. or... or maybe ask will what’s going on? that kid tells you everything.”

donna smiled softly, “will does love you, mal. remember his birthday back in march when you got him those fancy colored pencils, stuff for his d&d game and new shoes? he wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”

mallory’s lips twitched into a reluctant half-smile as she turned onto maple street, “yeah… yeah, I remember that... but okay. i’ll talk to him tomorrow. promise.”

the car fell quiet for a beat, just the soft click of the turn signal and the faint radio static mallory never bothered to fix. then robin cleared her throat.

“so… um.. mal... what’s tammy up to tonight? probably belting out madonna in her room again?”

mallory snorted, rolling her eyes, “oh, definitely. my guess is that she is upstairs, with that microphone hairbrush and everything... our poor neighbors.”

donna giggled, covering her mouth, “she’s… enthusiastic. let’s say that. but not exactly, um… pitch-perfect.”

robin leaned even farther forward, with her bright eyes maybe a little too bright in the dashboard glow, “i mean, enthusiasm’s half the battle, right? what song is she murdering this week?”

donna caught the way robin’s voice lifted, the way her fingers drummed on the seatback, but she chalked it up to robin being robin.... always curious about everybody in hawkins.

she did not notice anything else with robin.

too soon, mallory slowed in front of the sinclair house, the porch light glowing soft yellow.

the brakes of her car squeaked gently as she stopped.

“see you girls tomorrow,” donna said, grabbing her canvas bag from the floorboard. she pushed the door open, cold air rushing in, “don’t let tammy keep you up too late singing, mal.”

mallory smirked, “no promises.”

donna shut the door with a soft thunk and waved as the taillights disappeared down the street. the night was crisp and quiet except for the distant hum of mallory’s car fading and—

a bike chain rattling behind her.

she turned just in time to see lucas coasting up the driveway on his bmx, streetlamp catching the reflectors on his wheels. further down the road, dustin and will pedaled hard toward their own houses, silhouettes shrinking right past.

“lucas sinclair,” donna called, hands on her hips as he hopped off his bike, “isn’t it past your curfew, little man?”

lucas walked the bike toward the open garage, rolling his eyes as he notices his older sister, “why do you even care? you got mom and dad to bump yours a whole hour later this year.”

donna smirked, following him up the drive, “i’m just teasing, you little freak.”

“very funny,” he deadpanned, propping the bike against the wall. he slipped past her into the house through the side door.

donna follows him and inside, the kitchen and living room were dark with just the faint hum of the fridge and the red numbers on the microwave clock glowing 8:47. mom and dad had definitely gone to bed. so, donna hung her jacket over the back of her usual chair at the kitchen table... where her spot for morning cereal and last-minute homework crammed.

lucas thudded up the stairs quickly, not bothering to linger for a late-night snack, “night,” he muttered.

“night,” she called softly, hearing her brother's bedroom door click shut a second later.

donna padded to the foyer, grabbing her book bag from where she’d dropped it that morning.

she needed to at least start that world war i worksheet for tomorrow’s history class... all because mrs. click didn’t play about deadlines.

when DJ unzipped the main pocket, reaching in for the textbook, her fingers brushed something thinner, crinkly. what he fingers touched was a loose sheet of notebook paper.

frowning, she pulled it out under the dim entryway light.

at the top, in her own careful cursive.

dear steve harrington,

donna's stomach dropped.

it was the letter.... the one she’d poured her dumb heart into almost a month ago, before she’d seen him and nancy wheeler holding hands by his locker like it was the most natural thing in the world.

what was on the page was a number of confessions... it featured how his laugh made her forget what she was saying in the hallway, how she watched friday the 13th just because steve mentioned it once in gym class, and how she wished he’d look at her the way he looked at nancy.

donna's brown eyes scanned the words again, with heat rushing to her cheeks even though no one was watching. right now, every looping letter felt embarrassing, and almost childish.

she sighed, long and heavy, and crumpled the paper tight in her fist. the crinkle sounded too loud in the quiet night house.

donna walked back to the kitchen, lifted the trash can lid, and dropped the ball of paper inside. it landed with a soft thud among the coffee grounds and dinner scraps.

she wasn’t nancy wheeler. she was just donna sinclair.... good grades, decent jump shot, solid best friend.

that was enough.

right?

the next morning hit hawkins high like any other November monday with fluorescent brightening the halls, lockers slamming in rhythm, and the faint smell of cafeteria tater tots already drifting down the halls.

first period history had been fine since dj had even finished her ww1 worksheet early and spent the last ten minutes doodling little bmw logos in the margin of her notebook.

however, by the time the bell rang for second period, the vibe had shifted.

dj was at her locker twisting the combination when she spotted mallory barreling down the hallway like a storm cloud in orange leg warmers. veronica was half-jogging beside her, hand on mal’s arm, murmuring something urgent that wasn’t working at all.

mal’s cheeks were flushed, blonde curly hair bouncing with every angry step.

“whoa, what’s the problem?” donna asked, slamming her locker shut and falling into step with them.

“jonathan didn’t show up to first period,” mal bit out, eyes narrowed, “not a call, not a note, nothing.”

donna adjusted the strap of her book bag, “maybe he’s sick? overslept?”

mal scoffed loud enough that a couple freshmen turned to stare, “please, dj. he’s pulling this distant crap again and i’m over it. i’m going to his house right after school.”

veronica tugged gently at mal’s sleeve, “you can’t. you have cheer practice, remember? your coach would murder you.”

“fuck,” mal exhaled, stopping dead in the middle of the hall, “you’re right.”

dj bit back a smirk, leaning against the cool metal lockers while across the way, she caught sight of nancy wheeler in her perfect pink pastel sweater, laughing with barb by her own locker.

the two of them looked like they’d stepped out of a catalog, even though barb was no where near the top of the pyramid at this school. donna glanced down at her own tan wool sweate which was soft, thrifted, a little oversized and the faded blue jeans tucked into her boots.

suddenly the hallway felt too bright, too crowded, like everyone could see straight through her.

veronica had already moved on from the topic, voice brightening about her own interests, “anyway, i’ve got hellfire after school... the new leader eddie says that this session’s gonna be intense, something about a lich king or whatever. you guys should come watch, it’s actually kinda fun—”

donna nodded along absently, half-listening, until movement down the hall caught her eye.

barb gave nancy a quick wave and headed toward class. nancy lingered a second, then slipped into the girls’ bathroom, door swinging shut behind her.

then she sae steve harrington rounded the corner.

he was in his usual faded levi’s and that dumb sweater he wore even when it wasn’t cold, with his hair somehow perfect despite the november wind outside.

he flashed that easy grin at tommy as they passed by donna and her friends, but then without breaking stride he pushed open the same bathroom door nancy had just gone through.

donna’s stomach dropped straight to her nike nylon sneakers.

mal went back to venting about jonathan, while veronica chiming in with some d&d detail about gelatinous cubes, but the words blurred into static inside of donna's mind as she pictured what nancy and steve were doing in the bathroom together.

“i—uh—i gotta get to english,” dj blurted, cutting her friends off mid-sentence. she spun on her heel before either could respond, book bag bouncing against her hip as she stormed down the hall in the opposite direction.

behind her, mal and veronica exchanged a confused glance.

“what was that about?” mal asked, brow furrowed.

veronica shrugged, watching dj disappear into the crowd of students, “no clue.”

in class donna sits at her desk near the window, with the late morning light cutting across the page of romeo and juliet open in front of her, but the words might as well be in another language.

ms. everson’s voice drifts on about star-crossed lovers and tragic flaws, chalk tapping the board every few seconds, yet none of it sticks.

all donna can see is that bathroom door swinging shut behind steve, the easy way he disappeared after nancy like it was nothing. the brown skin girl's pen hovers over her notebook, leaving little ink dots where she keeps pressing too hard without writing anything.

when the bell finally rings, donna is out of her seat before most people have even closed their books. she shoves her copy of shakespeare into her bag, slings it over her shoulder, and pushes through the door fast enough that a couple kids give her weird looks. she doesn’t have anywhere specific to go... just away.

maybe to the office to fake a stomachache, maybe straight to the parking lot to beg mal for a ride home.

it’s not that serious, donna tells herself in the hallway rush.

every high schooler goes through this dumb one-sided crush crap at some point.

this is just her turn to feel it.

donna stops at her locker anyway, twisting the dial out of habit.

english textbook out, statistics in. the metal door of her locker clangs louder than she meant before she sees mal comes flying around the corner, blonde hair whipping, eyes wide and panicked in a way donna has never seen on her before.

“donna, will is missing!”

donna freezes, hand still on her locker door, “what do you mean, missing?”

“missing missing!” mal’s voice cracks. she grips the edge of the locker next to donna’s like she needs it to stay upright, “in my last class this girl asked if jonathan was okay because she drove past his street late to school and there were police cars everywhere and joyce told the cops will wasn’t home when she woke up, and he never made it to school. he’s just… gone.”

“holy shit,” donna whispers.

“yeah. holy shit.” mal presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, “i feel like the biggest asshole now. i was so mad at jonathan this morning and what if something actually—”

donna shakes her head quick, “no. hey. you were valid, mal. you didn’t have the full picture then. you didn’t know.”

mal nods, but it’s shaky, like she doesn’t quite believe it yet.

the rest of the day goes by in a haze for donna since all she could hear was whispers in the halls and teachers pretending everything’s normal.

when donna finally gets home, the house feels too quiet.

she drops her bag by the door and heads straight for the kitchen, where her parents are already dressed in coats and boots, flashlights on the counter.

“mom? dad? you heard about will byers?”

don's mom turns, face tightened and full with worry, "we did, honey. lucas is upstairs in his room and he’s pretty upset. a bunch of us are heading out to help search tonight since volunteers are meeting at the station.”

“can i come?” the words are out before donna thinks.

the sinclair dad shakes his head gently, “no, sweetheart. we don’t know what happened yet, and we’d rather you stay here where it’s safe.”

donna nods, throat thick with anxiety and nervousness, “okay.”

she hugs her parents before they head out. the front door clicks shut behind them which leaves the house heavier in silence than before.

donna grabs her book bag again and trudges upstairs.

lucas’s door is closed, with no light leaking out from under it. she pauses for a second, listening, but it’s silent. s

he keeps going to her own room, shutting the door softly and dropping onto her bed.

the concern sits heavy in her chest as she stares at the ceiling, thinking about little will byers out there somewhere, about lucas hurting behind his closed door, and about how fast everything in hawkins can turn upside down whenever the entire small town gets news about something that rarely occurs here.

all evening, the thought pokes at donna like a loose thread she can’t stop pulling. every time she passes lucas’s closed door on her way to the bathroom or back to her room, she slows down, hand half-raised to knock.

she wants to be the good big sister and check on him while saying something comforting, and anything. will byers is missing, like missing!!! it is the sweet, quiet will who doodles dragons in the margins of his notebooks and never raises his voice.

he doesn’t just vanish.

if anyone was gonna run off, you’d think it’d be lucas with his big attitude, dustin with his adventurous attitude, or mike with his dramatic plans.... not will, who’s perfectly happy staying home with his mom and jonathan.

donna finishes her statistics problems at her desk in her sage green room as the numbers blurring together anyway. she takes a long, hot shower, letting the water drum against her shoulders until the mirror fogs completely and her fingers prune.

afterward, wrapped in her old terry-cloth robe, hair twisted up in a towel, she calls mallory.

mal’s voice over the phone sounded exhausted... she spent the evening over at the byers’ house while joyce talked to chief hopper, passing out flyers, making coffee nobody drank. to her, jonathan looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

when donna finally hangs up, the house feels too big and too quiet.

erica’s door is cracked open just enough to see the glow of her little lamp and hear the soft clop of plastic my little pony hooves on the floor as she plays.

lucas’s door is still shut.

donna pads down the hallway in her socks and stops in front of it. she knocks... three soft taps.

nothing.

she knocks again, a little firmer, “it’s me, lucas. come on… you can talk to me.”

silence.

there is no creak of bedsprings, no shuffle of feet on carpet.

nothing.

donna’s eyebrows pinch together and she turns the knob slowly, pushing the door open a few inches.

the room looks exactly like it always does with comic books stacked on the dresser, his blue and white curtains stilled, and his bed clean... and empty.

there is no lucas hunched under the covers pretending to sleep, and no lucas at his desk with a walkie talkie.

donna exhales through her nose knowing that he snuck out.

of course he did while she was on the phone and erica was in her own world. lucas must've slipped out a window or the back door to go look for his friend.

rain hammers against the window like someone was pouring buckets against the glass. thunder rumbles far off and donna walks out of lucas' room to glance toward erica’s room. she is still playing, and oblivious... then she heads back downstairs.

she’s supposed to be babysitting, she’s supposed to keep her siblings safe inside while half the town is out in this mess searching.

feeling useless, donna picks up the kitchen phone and dials veronica’s number from memory.

it rings four times before kelly turnbow answers, sounding worn out, “turnbow residence.”

“hi, mrs. turnbow, it’s donna. is veronica home?”

a soft sigh on the other end, “no, honey, she’s still out. she went with mallory and the byers family... and ken... to help with the search. half the town’s out there tonight.”

donna’s fingers tighten around the cord, “yeah… i figured.”

“you okay over there? same with erica? your parents are out too, aren’t they?”

“yeah. i’m watching lucas and erica, indeed.”

the little lie tastes sour, but donna doesn’t correct it.

“alright, sweetheart. stay dry and keep that door locked. we’ll find the byers kid.”

they say goodbye and donna hangs up, the click loud in the empty kitchen. rain lashes the windows harder, blurring the streetlights outside into smears of yellow.

donna stands there a minute, arms crossed tight while feeling more helpless than ever while everyone else is out doing something.

she moves to shit at the dining room table, with her elbows on the dark wood, chin in her hands, staring at the back door like it owes her answers.

the rain hasn’t let up sinceit drums steady against the windows and gutters, turning the whole house into a drum. every few minutes she glances at the clock on the wall... 8:17, 8:29, 8:44.

erica’s been asleep for about half-an-hour, curled up with her ponies. lucas still isn’t back and donna’s stomach twists with the kind of worry that feels too big for her body. she’s supposed to be the responsible one, the one who keeps everyone safe.

if mom and dad come home first and find lucas gone, they’ll know she messed up.

at 9:02, the side door in the kitchen creaks open slow, like whoever’s turning the knob is trying not to make a sound.

lucas steps inside, dripping. the boy's jacket is soaked through with hair super soaked as his sneakers leave ittle puddles on the linoleum. he freezes when he sees his older sister sitting there under the single light above the table, arms crossed now, dark fluffy hair still a little damp from her earlier shower and frizzing out around her face.

he doesn’t look shocked that she’s waiting up since he looks shocked about something else entirely... eyes too wide, breathing too fast.

“are you stupid, lucas?” donna asks, voice low but sharp.

lucas shuts the door behind him, water dripping from his sleeves, “i can explain.”

donna stands, pushing her chair back with a scrape, “then explain.”

the middle child swallows, glancing toward the dark hallway like someone might appear, “me, mike, and dustin… we didn’t wanna just sit around feeling helpless. everyone else is out there looking, dj. we had to do something.”

donna nods slowly, arms still crossed, “i get that. I do but sneaking out in the dark? in this rain? that’s not safe, lucas. none of this is safe right now.”

he shifts his weight, shoes squelching, “we—we thought we found something.”

donna’s eyes widen, “what?”

lucas’s mouth opens, then snaps shut.

something flickers across his face like panic, and maybe regret. he shakes his head quick, “nothing.”

“that doesn’t look like nothing.”

“we thought we found something, but we didn’t. false alarm.” lucas' voice is too high, too fast.

donna steps closer, studying him as she steps closer, “you’re lying.”

“i’m not—”

“lucas.” she cuts him off, “if you saw something... if you found anything... you need to tell mom and dad.... or the police. right now.”

“no!” he bursts out, louder than he means to. his hands ball into fists at his sides, “i can’t, okay? because there was nothing. nothing.”

donna knows he’s lying since she can hear it in the crack of his voice, and she can see it in the way he won’t meet her eyes for more than a second. however, he’s shaking from cold, and from fear, and from whatever he saw out there... and pushing him harder feels cruel to her.

lucas doesn’t wait for his sister to say anything else. he bolts past her, feet slapping wet on the stairs, and a second later his bedroom door slams hard enough to rattle the pictures on the stair wall.

donna stands there in the quiet that follows with the rain still pounding outside, heart thumping against her ribs. she doesn’t move to follow him.

the next morning donna rushes through the front doors of hawkins high with her red plaid midi skirt swishing against her tights as she speed-walks down the hall, book bag bouncing against her hip.

she’s rehearsed the questions in her head all night to ask.

what happened during the search, did mal or veronica see anything weird, did lucas’s “something” turn out to be real?

however, she stops short when she spots the cluster of people by her locker.

barb, carol, tommy, steve, and nancy... they are all standing in a loose circle like they own that stretch of hallway. it s a weird group mix, since donna heard barb in their statistics class say that she didn't like Steve or his group.

right now tommy’s laughing loud and mean at something nancy just said, with carol smirking beside him. steve’s got one hand leaned casually on his hip, hair perfect as always, with that stupid easy half-smile on his face.

donna’s heart does a stupid little flutter the second her eyes land on him before the shyness crashes in hard, hot in her cheeks. she hates how small she suddenly feels next to his friends. the older sinclair slows her steps, hugging her books tighter to her chest, hoping the floor will just swallow her whole.

they don’t notice her. thank goodness. she slips past them quiet as she can, reaches her locker, and spins the dial with shaky fingers. the metal door pops open just as footsteps come sprinting up behind her.

“will byers is missing!?”

robin skids to a stop, cheeks pink from running as flute case is slung across her back like a turtle shell. the blonde's eyes are huge.

donna nods, lowering her voice, “yeah. it’s crazy. lucas has been worried sick since he and will are super closer.”

“i tried calling everybody last night,” robin says while breathless, “mal’s house, veronica’s, yours—nobody picked up.”

“that’s weird. i was home the whole time.” donna swaps out her books quick, “but lucas snuck out to help search without telling anyone. i was freaking out... if mom and dad found out he left while i was watching him, i’d be dead.”

robin winces in sympathy, “yikes.”

“fuck my goodness, look!” robin suddenly grabs donna’s shoulders and turns her toward the bulletin board down the hall.

jonathan byers stands there alone, shoulders slumped, pinning up a missing person flyer with some pins. the big black-and-white photo of will’s face stares out with his bright smile, his bowl cut, the same picture from last year’s school photos.

the bold letters above it read HAVE YOU SEEN WILL BYERS?

donna’s heart cracks right down the middle and the hallway noise fades to a dull hum. everyone’s staring with kids slowing down as they pass, whispers rippling.

even steve’s group has gone quiet, all five of them watching jonathan like he’s a sideshow.

“i feel so bad,” donna murmurs, throat tight.

robin nods fast, “mal’s probably helping him right now with putting those up. she wasn’t outside with the cheer squad this morning.”

robin keeps talking about theories her mom heard at the beauty parlor, her grandma swearing it’s linked to that old morgue out by mirkwood... but donna’s barely listening anymore.

ahead of them, nancy breaks away from steve’s group.

she walks straight up to jonathan, saying something soft that makes him freeze mid-staple. jonathan looks exhausted with dark circles under his eyes, hair unbrushed, shirt wrinkled like he slept in it. the older byer's whole body sags like the weight of the world is pressing down on his shoulders.

donna wonders if maybe mallory should cut him some slack.

they were already rocky, and now this? now will’s gone?

the school bell shrills overhead, loud and sudden.

donna blinks, turns away from the scene. she links her arm with robin’s and starts toward english, the missing poster burning in her mind.

she just hopes will comes home soon.

another morning passes and donna kicks her skateboard to a stop in the hawkins high parking lot the next morning, the wheels rattling over loose gravel.

she’s in her mom’s old purple wool sweater... soft, a little too big, with the sleeves pushed up along with faded blue jeans that are cuffed above her sneakers. the air bites cold, but the real chill comes from the tension hanging over everyone clustered outside.

some kids stand in tight groups with their eyes darting like they’re waiting for the next bad thing to happen. while the others pretend like nothing is wrong.

meanwhile, donna scoops up her board and weaves through the cars, spotting mallory and jonathan near the edge of the lot... facing off with steve and his usual crew.

fuck.

tommy and carol flank steve like bodyguards, with nicole lingering smugly beside them.

“nicole here was just telling us about your work, jonathan,” donna walks up and hears steve say with his voice full with fake interest, hands in his jacket pockets.

don see's mallory’s eyes narrow to slits as carol chimes in with a nasty smirk, “yeah, we’ve heard great things.”

donna steps up quietly, stopping just behind mallory before turning to face steve and his group beside with her skateboard clutched against her.

steve tilts his head, “and we’d just love to take a look. you know, as connoisseurs of art.”

“what?” mallory snaps, clearly lost.

jonathan mumbles, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” and tries to push past them but tommy snatches his bag right off his shoulder.

mallory lets out a sharp squeak, lunging to grab it back, “hey! give it!”

tommy pushes mal back as he tosses the bag to steve like it’s a football. donna’s eyes go wide, heart thudding in confusion as jonathan visibly trembles, hands half-raised.

steve unzips the bag, pulling out jonathan’s camera, “whoa, easy there, jon. look at him shaking.”

“give john back his camera, you fuckhead,” mallory spits, struggling as tommy hooks an arm around her waist to hold her back.

donna grips her skateboard tighter, frozen.

she watches steve flip through a stack of developed photos he pulls from the bag, eyebrows raising higher with each one.

“you know, mal... mallory thompson... you care a lot about your boyfriend jonathan here, right?” steve glances up at her, then back down at the pictures.

“yes,” mal bites out, voice shaking with anger.

“well, did you know your boyfriend here was taking pictures from the woods outside my house last night?”

“huh?” donna blurts.

“what?” mallory echoes, head whipping toward jonathan.

“i was looking for my brother,” jonathan says quietly, eyes on the ground.

steve ignores him, “no, no—this is called stalking.”

“he’s going through a lot,” donna sighs, stepping forward to at least try to help, “leave him alone.”

steve’s eyes softly flick up to donna like he’s about to say something, but nancy walks up just then, brows furrowed, “what’s going on?”

“here’s the starring lady,” tommy announces with a grin.

“what?” nancy repeats, softer.

carol smirks, “this creep was spying on us last night, and his girlfriend here didn’t even know.”

carol plucks one photo from the stack and holds it out to nancy with a nasty little smile, “and he was probably gonna save this one for later.”

donna moves closer to the group now, peering over nancy’s shoulder on mallory’s behalf to look at the developed picture in black and white. the girl's heart drops seeing that the picture is unmistakable... nancy in a window, mid-motion pulling off her shirt.

“fuck,” donna mumbles under her breath.

steve clicks his tongue, “see, you can tell he knows it’s wrong... especially since he’s got a girlfriend and everything.... but man, that’s the thing about perverts. it’s hardwired into them. they just can’t help themselves.”

mallory’s nearly shaking now, staring at jonathan like she doesn’t recognize him, hurt and confusion and disgust all fighting on her face.

she’s trying to hold it together for will, for everything jonathan’s going through... but it’s cracking like how jonathan's camera did when steve lets it drop. it hits the pavement with a sickening crunch of plastic and glass.

donna doesn’t even think before shouting at her crush, “you’re a fucking asshole!”

steve scoffs, gesturing at the broken pieces, “oh yeah? me? not the guy taking pictures of people without their consent?”

“both of you are,” donna shoots back, voice steady even as her chest twists while looking at jonathan.

something shifts inside her right then since it was like the shiny image she’s carried around of steve harrington for years finally cracks and falls away.

to donna, pretty hair and easy smiles don’t mean much when he’s kicking someone who’s already bleeding.

steve’s group turns and saunters off, laughing like they just won something. nancy lingers a second, looking between jonathan and the mess on the ground.

“mal—” Jonathan starts while looking at his girlfriend.

“no.” mallory’s voice is flat. she adjusts her bag higher on her shoulder, eyes glassy, “i knew you had… something for her. i’m just gonna go.”

“mal—” donna tries, reaching out but mallory’s already jogging away with her head down, disappearing between the rows of cars like she wants the asphalt to open up and take her away.

turning back, donna watches nancy crouch to help jonathan gather the torn and scattered photos, the two of them exchanging this quiet, loaded look like there’s a thousand things they want to say but can’t because steve’s voice carries from across the lot, calling “nance, come on!”

donna’s still standing there, skateboard dangling from her fingers, when a voice cuts through the morning indiana air.

“donna!”

she turns and sees veronica’s leaning out the window of her blue chevy across the lot, waving her over.

donna shakes her head once, a bitter little huff escaping her lips at the terrible timing of veroncia's, and jogs toward the car, board tucked under her arm.

for the whole day donna spends the whole day glued to veronica’s side, with the two of them drifting from class to class like shadows. robin joins them at lunch, sliding into the cafeteria bench with her tray and a million questions in her eyes. mallory’s seat stays empty since robin leans in and whispers that she asked piper in band about mal, but mal wasn’t at cheer practice, she wasn’t anywhere.

mallory must’ve ditched school after that mess in the parking lot.

donna feels the guilt settle heavy in her stomach since she knows what this probably means. that photo, jonathan’s camera, steve’s cruel words... it all but confirmed every fear mallory had been carrying about jonathan and nancy wheeler.

the thing mal had been fighting with him about for weeks just got proven in the worst way possible, right in front of the most important students at this school.

“and steve,” donna mutters, poking at her fries, “god, his behavior this morning basically washed whatever was left of my crush right down the drain.”

robin nearly chokes on her soda, letting out a half-laugh, half-scoff, “dj, come on. steve harrington’s been king asshole since freshman year. this isn’t news.”

“yeah, but i hadn’t seen it,” donna says quietly, “not like that and for sure not aimed at someone who’s already falling apart.”

veronica sighs, stirring her chocolate milk with a straw, “i can’t believe i missed the whole thing. I have the worst timing ever.”

“trust me,” donna tells her, “you didn’t wanna see it.”

after the final bell, the three of them pile into veronica’s blue chevy and end up back at veronica’s house for the rest of the evening, spreading textbooks across the living room carpet, pretending to do homework while mostly talking in circles about will, about mallory, about how everything feels wrong.

when the sky finally goes dark after a few hours, veronica drives donna home with robin in the backseat humming along to duran duran on the radio, when suddenly red and blue lights flash in the rearview... police cars flying past, sirens screaming.

donna’s heart lurches, “is that—do you think it’s about will?”

veronica doesn’t answer since she just presses the gas, following the streak of lights through town. robin leans forward, “ron, slow down—”but Veronica doesn’t since the parade of cop cars leads them straight to lover’s lake, where more cruisers are already parked haphazardly, lights spinning, yellow crime-scene tape flapping in the wind.

a crowd of officers and volunteers mills around the edge of the water.

donna’s out of the car before veronica even kills the engine, feet hitting wet gravel. the air smells like rain and diesel as she hears the familiar rattle of bike chains and spins around.

lucas, mike, dustin... and a strange girl with a shaved head, wearing an oversized navy blue jacket and matching sweatshirt... stand huddled behind a firetruck, staring toward the lake.

“lucas!” donna calls, voice cracking.

she sprints to him. lucas turns, eyes wide and red-rimmed. the other three boys look just as wrecked.

the girl stays silent, face blank.

veronica and robin catch up, stopping a few steps behind.

flashlights sweep the water and officers in rain slickers move slow and careful. a minute passes before donna sees it... she sees two of the officers carrying a small body on a stretcher from out of the water.

it was a soaked, wet body that was too small.

donna’s vision blurs instantly and tears spill hot down her cheeks as she pulls lucas into her arms. he doesn’t fight it, since her brother just buries his face in her sweater and grips her tight like he’s afraid she’ll vanish too.

will byers is dead.

well, not really.

chapter masterlist

notes: yes this will be a slow burn between donna and steve</3

taglist: @lauren222218

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