Lucas Sinclair

Now that a few seconds had passed during which he was allowed to even his breathing, together with Lucas’ testimony, Nathan was able to extend a much CALMER and more SENSIBLE response. He witnessed that kind of behavior between adults in more than one occasion, but he never would have expected mere CHILDREN to be capable of such cruelty, which was the only word he could come up with to label what the other had already described. He was actually glad he had failed to stop that punch, but for obvious reasons he was not allowed to admit it out loud, especially to a student. Instead, he gestured with his hand, beckoning his student to follow him into the next empty classroom. By law, they were all required to carry a first aid kit, including bandages to tend to the boy’s bruising hand, and while Nate was no nurse, he didn’t want the both of them confined in the same room with the nurse, possibly having a go at each other again. Still silent, he pulled out a chair for Lucas and another for himself, fetching a bandage. “Alright, gimme your hand,” he spoke up at last. 

“ Look— ” He carefully applied arnica onto the back of his hand to heal the forming bruise. “ … people like Troy? They’re everywhere. You’re gonna run into them, not just in school, but anywhere you go. Is it fair? No. Is it infuriating? Yeah. ” He began wrapping the bandage around his hand. “ But you know what else it is? Really, really, really sad. Because Troy and people like him have nothing, absolutely nothing going on in their lives that’s more important than pissing other people off. That’s all they’ve got, that’s the only excitement they’ve got going on, it’s PATHETIC. It’s still infuriating, you got me there, it’s still a topic that he shouldn’t be making jokes about, but punching him’s just gonna get you in trouble, you gotta hold that back. It’s gonna suck at first but you gotta remember that… at the end of the day, Troy’s gonna spend the rest of his life trying to feel better about himself by teasing people like you, who are gonna be too busy making something of themselves to even take notice. ” 

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LUCAS DILIGENTLY FOLLOWED THE MAN INTO THE ROOM HE GESTURED TOWARDS, seeing already the change in behavior. He was grateful that the man was on his side at least a little bit (he could see it in his eyes) but there was something else there that Lucas absolutely DESPISED that they had all been receiving a lot lately - PITY. He would suck it up though and accept the pity in exchange for his victory for the day. Wait until he told Mike and Dustin about it!! They would be ecstatic. It was rare they could get back at Troy without suffering some serious consequences. He sat down in the chair provided to him and held out his hand obediently, surprised by how fast the blood rushed to the surface of his skin and caused swelling at his knuckles. 

He listened carefully to Mr. Cook’s “words of wisdom”, taking in each syllable with delicate consideration. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would back down from a fight like that if he were in that situation outside of school. He definitely seemed the type that would throw a punch to stand up for a friend. & besides, even if Troy ended up sad and alone, it just wasn’t good enough. He made life Hell for so many people, physically and emotionally scarred them and if Lucas had a chance to take another shot he totally would. But, he nodded, the way they were supposed to. & it did bring him a bit of joy to picture Troy getting his just desserts when he was old and weak and lonely. Did that make him a bad person to want that?? He knew it was supposed to be heroic to take the high road, but he wanted revenge for Will. Will never did anything wrong. He wasn’t even HERE and he was being bullied. Where was the justice in that?? 

He let out a sigh and looked at the bandages on his hand. “ Maybe you’re right,  Mr. C. But I have to admit... I’m glad I got at least one punch in before I take the high road. “ He offered a playful smirk as he wiggled his fingers and immediately winced after. “ SHIT... my mom’s gonna kill me. “

[ cont. ] // @rationalwristrocket·

“It was nothing…”, Joyce mumbled as she shook her head and leaned forward to examine the kid’s bruise. “Come here.” Her voice was now firm, almost demanding, as she tilted Lucas’s head to see his eye. It was purple and swollen, but it wasn’t the bruise or the cut on his lip what worried her the most. It wasn’t Will this time, or Jonathan, but she knew very well that that kind of injuries were hardly the product of just a casual disagreement between neighborhood boys. She carefully dabbed the warm stiff flesh around his eye with the back of her fingers before letting go and crouching in front of the boy looking at him directly.

“So. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

MRS. BYERS’ VOICE WAS MORE FIERCE THE SECOND TIME AROUND AS SHE DEMANDED HE MOVE CLOSER FOR HER TO EXAMINE HIS INJURIES & of course he obliged, slinking closer as he allowed her to poke and prod the bruise that seemed to throb with it’s own heartbeat. He held his breath in her close proximity, looking anywhere but her eyes. A hiss escaped his lips as she let the backs of her fingers linger a little too long on the dark purple skin. Bitter thoughts followed, thoughts about his weakness, about his inability to even LIE about how pathetic it all was. His head hung low, still not looking directly at those piercing dark orbs demanding an explanation. 

“ It was just some guy at school... Mrs. B... could we please not talk about it?? “ he practically whispered, his voice cracking with the possibility of tears. 

Steve let out a hesitant breath as what little parts of his face that were left unbruised scrunched up in pain, “–s- shit- thanks, man.” Holding onto Lucas for dear life, Steve refused to let any of his muscles relax until the smaller teen had helped him successfully return to the safety of Jonathan’s mattress.

Once they reached the bed a few agonizing seconds later, Steve sighed in relief as the strain of standing was lessened. Messing with the pillow for a moment until he was somewhat successfully propped up against the headboard, Steve eyed Lucas warily, wondering if him asking to come in was out of concern for Steve, or something else.

“–don’t worry about the door -s’not your fault-”

Pausing again as he chose his words carefully, Steve ran a hand through his hair before proceeding, “What’s bothering you, dude— and don’t say nothing, cause I can tell when some shit is up. And shit is definitely up.”

Please don’t be Upside Down related, Steve silently hoped, I’m way too fucked up to deal with anymore demo-dogs right now. Anxiously awaiting Lucas’s response, Steve played with the hem of the shirt he was wearing, not quite sure if he was capable of handling this degree of big-brother talk yet, but hoping to ease some of Lucas’s distress regardless.

HARRINGTON’S GRIP ON HIM WAS DEATHLY TIGHT, THE KIND OF CLINGING THAT LEFT HIM NERVOUSLY GRASPING AT DEEPER BREATHS THAT NEVER SEEMED TO COME. Only once he was set down safely on the mattress did Lucas take in that deeper breath and let it out in a slow sigh, trying to calm the angry flutters in his chest. He waited for Steve to get situated, grasping at the hems of his sleeves, feeling as if he were intruding on a private affair. Once he was settled though, he took a seat on the edge of the mattress and scratched at the back of his neck as he avoided his gaze. He gave a half-hearted shrug. It seemed so unimportant. It was just his emotions. Seeing Steve in this state because of him, because he was protecting HIM - he just felt GUILTY. But compared to what Steve had done for him, what he was doing for him even now, Lucas should be asking the teen what he could do for the injured boy, not getting a therapy session. 

He cleared his throat, his brain scrambling to find something to say in return. Steve’s silence was near deafening. Nothing was coming to mind. It was such a long quiet. He could feel those eyes resting on his silhouette in the dark room. His shoulders slumped, hanging low like tear drops of defeat, his mouth pursed in a tight and uncomfortable line, his hands balled up into unintentional fists - CLEARLY shit was up. Finally, he decided to just tell him the truth since he was the absolute WORST at this. 

It was ODD, actually. Nancy had always assumed that Mike would be the first one to come to her with girl problems, wanting to confide in his older sister and gain her ‘female intuition’ on whatever situation was brewing. But clearly her little brother had been harboring SERIOUS FEELINGS for a girl for over a year already, and yet hadn’t said so much as a word to her about it. The Wheeler siblings weren’t exactly the Byers, but she’d thought that after everything they’d survived together he’d AT LEAST be able to turn to her for something like this… and he hadn’t. He didn’t. But then here was Lucas. Seeking her out for advice, wanting her take on HIS situation before things got more serious between him and Max. Or, she could tell, before things got WORSE between him and Dustin. 

Nancy FROWNED, putting her hand to grab Lucas’s handlebar and stop him from moving any further. “Stop it. Nothing is RUINED.” she practically barked at him, the authority in her eyes DARING him to argue with her - it would be the last thing he ever did. This whole thing was so … DUMB. Totally age appropriate for middle schoolers, but dumb none the less. After all the bullshit with the Lab, Mike and his group of friends had been forced to grow up WAY TOO FAST. Nancy was starting to wonder if they could tell the difference anymore between real problems … and the ones that were just part of the growing pains of life, where the hurt would fade in time. 

“Dustin’s hurt, ok? Max … was his first REAL CRUSH. And she picked you. And that sucks.” Nancy reminded Lucas, before dismissively shrugging her shoulders. “But as soon as he gets his next crush? He’ll forget all about it. Your… your FRIENDSHIP will survive long beyond any girl who dares to threaten it, ok? I KNOW it will.” 

HIS BIKE RUMBLED ACROSS THE GRAVEL ROAD TO AN ABRUPT HALT AS NANCY’S HAND SHOT OUT AND GRASPED THE COOL METAL OF HIS HANDLEBARS. He stopped with it, like a dog on a leash, and looked over at her with eyebrows raised in confusion to their walk coming to such a harsh end. Her voice cut through the space between them in a way he had only ever heard exchanged between a mother and a disobedient child - a firm hand, a sharp tone, but all of the wisdom and tenderness a mother could provide. Her eyes were piercing, an almost violent shade of blue that threatened the very IDEA that things might be ruined. Despite the shrillness of it all, Lucas felt his heart flutter. HOPE. Real hope. 

& as she continued he could only feel the weight on him lifting. He shifted his weight slightly, swallowed, and finally gave a firm nod of understanding. If all that were true, he and Dustin would be able to make it through this after all... Somehow... “ Thanks, Nance... “ he offered a grateful smile. But quickly his mind began to spin. A crush... that’s all it would take to have his friend back?? To provide him with an outlet for his affections and for a special someone to put his attention towards?? Maybe Lucas could make that happen...

He began filing through the mental list of all the girls in their school, but it was pretty clear there was no one quite like Max, and that they both liked her for a reason. He looked at Nancy and shuffled on his feet again, a question settling in his mind long enough for him to ask: “ Do... Do you think there’s anything I can DO?? To make it better, you know. To make it easier for him... “

        slingshot,    a relic belonging to beverly of a time before,    falls limp and empty between his fingers.    ‘    i duh - don’t think i could hit a can if it was two inches from my face.   ‘     /      @rationalwristrocket

LUCAS LOOKED OVER AT HIM QUIZZICALLY, WANTING TO ASSIST IN HIS TECHNIQUE, but Bill already seemed to have given up in the way he relaxed his hand. He offered a warm smile and gently bumped shoulders with him. “ Don’t be so HARD on yourself!! It took me a long time to get it right and even then if you don’t have the right rock, the balance is all off. HERE, “ he picked up a pebble from his own pile and held it out for Bill to take. “ Take this one - She’s a BEAUT - a real MONSTAH KILLA!! “

☀

Kaden can see the panic in Lucas’s eyes, and before he can say anything to help reassure the shorter boy, Lucas is suddenly yanking his hands out of Kaden’s grip. Lucas is backing away from him, backing away like he’s afraid, and a sea of memories suddenly crash into Kaden like a ton of bricks. How many times had he backed away from his father like that, until he realized it was better to just deal with the consequences and not fight them? How many times had he looked the way Lucas did right now—petrified—when looking up at his father, holding a riding crop between two huge, similarly scarred fists? He was causing Lucas this panic, this fear, and almost immediately Kaden feels like he is going to be sick, and his hands begin to shake.

He’s never wanted to hit something more in his life. Not Lucas, no, of course not, but a punching bag—a brick wall—anything to get this feeling out of him.

He listens to Lucas explain himself, and of course it all makes sense, and he understands. Though really, he could never understand, could he? Sure, if he and Lucas did end up together, he’d get his fair share of harassment for being gay. But he could never understand the whole other level of bullying that came with being black. Kaden understood small towns, since he had grown up in Chapin. Hawkins was northern, so it was definitely more accepting, but… It was by no stretch of the word tolerant.

He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he fought them back fiercely, and against all odds—he smiled. Because the last thing he wanted was to cause Lucas any pain, or cause him the distress he was experiencing in this moment.

“Okay. Okay. I’m…” He swallows around a lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to… Scare you,” he finishes meekly, voice cracking despite his best efforts. He can feel himself falling apart, and he doesn’t want to do it in front of Lucas, but he needs to make sure Lucas is okay first, so he keeps smiling.

“You don’t… You don’t need to be upset, okay? Really, I… I understand. Okay? Please, don’t… Don’t cry.”

I’m not worth that.

HIS VOICE SHUDDERED IN JUST A WAY WHEN HE SPOKE THAT LUCAS COULDN’T NOT LOOK AT HIM, because he heard pain there, a pain that he’d never heard in Kaden’s voice and he never wanted to hear again. & when he looked up he saw a smile, but it was the saddest, fakest smile he had ever seen. He never wanted to see that on his friend again. He never want to make Kaden feel like he had to put on a face for him. He could see Kaden’s body shutting down, shuddering into an overdrive of regret and sorrow, & Lucas ached, he physically ached in a way he never thought he would. It was yearning. To be in Kaden’s arms, to hold him close and run his fingers through his dark curls and tell him it would be alright. Because he loved him. He loved him...

So what was the point?? What was the point of pretending he didn’t?? He thought back over his life, mind racking through the harassment he had experienced, through the violence he had seen on TV, through the stories his father told him of his own childhood and it all settled bitterly in his mind. But since when did the party worry about being liked by others?? They were all bullied anyway. The only thing left to come was the wrath of the adults - so maybe... maybe if they just kept it quiet... 

He shifted before the boy, before his friend and wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve with a quiet sniffle. It didn’t stop the tears, though. In fact, it did the opposite. As soon as his face was hidden from view he let out a few hiccuped sobs. With his shoulders slumped and his eyes still covered, he pushed himself off the wall and did the unexpected. He walked right into Kaden’s arms. He let himself sink into him, letting his arms fall and wrap around his waist. He pulled him close, feeling the warmth of his body against his own and buried his face in his neck. & it felt RIGHT. Forget all that other crap. It felt RIGHT. He held him tight, his heart screaming out to him, begging him -

Don’t leave me.