Faint whispers trickle through your eardrums. They’re soft, quiet at the rounded vowels, and the hushed words almost go undetected. 

“Do we just let her sleep?”

“What other choice do we have?”

A third hushed voice breaks through your haze of sleep. “Or we could just wake her up, dipshits.”

“Real nice, Henderson.” 

“You asked for my input, so I gave it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be such an asshole about it.” 

Suddenly the voices rise in volume as Steve and Dustin break out into yet another exhausting argument. Faintly you register Jonathan’s soft voice pleading with them to be quiet, fearful of waking you up, but the fear has long since come to pass.

Your eyes open and your gaze lands on Steve and Dustin in the front seat, bodies facing away from each other in a tense standoff with Jonathan next to you, a worried hand on the base of your ankle as he anxiously endures the conversation. 

“Listen, if we don’t wake Y/N up then she’ll wring our asses.” Dustin says, rolling his eyes at Steve’s dismissive huff. 

“But this is the first time she’s slept in days,” the older boy reminds your brother. “Like hell am I waking her up. She needs the rest.”

The reminder of the events from the last forty-eight hours settles into your bones. Forcing yourself to sit up, ignoring every fiber of your body that begs to be laid to rest, you look out through the van’s window and realize you’re parked in front of the radio tower. 

Daylight surrounds itself around you. A deep, dull ache sits in your back. 

You must’ve slept the entire night on the van’s floor. 

“Unfortunately I’m already up.” 

All three boys whip their heads to look at you, staring down at you as if you’re some science experiment they haven’t quite figured out. 

Steve clears his throat sheepishly, now red. “Did we wake you?”

“Of course you woke her up.” Jonathan snaps, removing his hand from your ankle as if it has stung him. Although the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by either you or Steve, whose eyes narrow dangerously. 

He sucks in a breath, reeling for another fight, but you fling your hands out in annoyance and beckon towards the radio station. “I’d prefer if someone explained to me why we’re back here.”

Both Dustin and Jonathan turn to Steve expectantly, forming an unspoken alliance against him. Steve’s face pinches together as he waves his middle finger at them before turning to you. “Robin radioed us while you were asleep.”

Immediately you sit up properly. “What’d she say? Is everyone okay?”

“She’s with Will and Joyce,” Steve continues, fingers brushing over yours to quell the sting of your rapidly building hope. “But that’s all she told us before demanding that we meet here to discuss a new lead she has.”

While the information remains vague, it’s enough to snag at the remaining fragments of hope inside your chest as it expels the remnants of your exhaustion. Scrambling to your knees, you frantically crawl out of the van before anyone can stop you. 

Early morning birdsong greets you as your feet touch the grass. Time almost seems to stand still as you take in the rolling hills and green meadows before you. In the sunlight the red of Karen Wheeler’s blood on your clothing burns to brown and the kiss of the sun’s warmth masks the multitudes of grief that you can never seem to outrun. 

Yet in the distance Nancy’s car sends billows of smoke signals into the air and the minute she steps out of the vehicle her legs carry her to you. 

“Y/N.” Nancy’s small frame shudders against your chest as you hold her in your arms. Her eyes are as bloodshot as yours.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe into her neck, apologizing for the unfair hand she’s been dealt as you hold onto her so tightly that her skin becomes yours. “How is she–?”

You’re unable to utter Karen Wheeler’s name, though her daughter understands anyways. “She made it to the hospital. That’s all we know.”

You exhale at her words, your fingernails dig into her back and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Nancy so frail. A heavy hand falls on your lower back, accompanied by a gruff voice, “let me see her.”

If it were anyone else you’d bare your teeth and spit foul words, but for Jonathan Byers you lessen your grip on Nancy Wheeler and watch, silently, as she melts into his embrace. They come together like water, melting into one, and for a moment they’re just two kids in love. 

“You look like hell.” Mike steps out of the car and bypasses all formalities upon noticing you. Lucas stands next to him and both boys look about as well as you feel.

Though try as he might, Mike can’t hide his hurt from you. Traces of dread etch his face, and you’re pulling him into your arms before he can escape. “How’re you holding up?”

He stiffens at the unexpected embrace, but after everything he’s been through the last sixteen hours, he can’t bring himself to pull away. His chest rises slowly, exhales even slower as he says, “I-I don’t really know what I’m doing–holy shit.”

Suddenly Mike shoves you away and rushes towards your brother, eyes narrowed at the onslaught of bruises and blood that stain his face. 

“You look like hell, dude.” Mike lets out a low whistle, studying Dustin’s face.

“Bike crash.” The lie comes out of Dustin’s mouth with a practiced ease that makes you uncomfortable. 

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Flew headfirst into a light post.” 

You feel Steve bristle next to you. Everyone knows that Dustin is lying.

Sharp pain coats your mouth as you bite the inside of your cheek. There’s nothing you can say that would change anything. 

“Look, I’m sorry about missing the crawl, and about… Everything.” Dustin averts everyone’s gaze. The guilt eats him alive. You know how painful the sensation of its hunger can be. 

“It’s not your fault,” Mike’s quick reassurance to comfort his friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that you find hard to swallow. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Looks like he already did.” Lucas steps closer to your brother and grimaces at the injuries that scatter his face. 

He reaches to Dustin’s nose, as if about to grab it, before you slap him away like a mother scolding a child. “Please don’t make the injury worse.”

Lucas glares at you, immediately defensive. “I just wanted to see if it was broken!”

“By touching it?” Dustin takes several steps back, alarmed at the idea of Lucas prodding at his still sore nose. 

An argument starts to break out between the two boys, but it quickly comes to an end when Robin flings the radio station’s door open and gestures wildly for everyone’s attention.

“Hey, this isn’t a social call, guys.” Her tone borders on annoyance and the manic glint in her eyes tells you that she hasn’t had a pleasant night, either. “Let’s go!”

Slowly everyone settles back into the realization of where they are, of why they’re in the middle of an abandoned field running on exhaustion and paranoia. Mike is the first to follow Robin inside, followed by Lucas and Dustin, and eventually even Nancy manages to break herself out of her grief long enough to grab Jonathan’s hand and guide him inside. 

You’re left with Steve and a silence that presses into your ribcage. 

You’ve never known how to survive in the silence. 

But then Steve’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, uncaring of the torn clothing and bloodstains. He holds you to his chest, cradles your head so that you can hear every beat of his heart, and in his embrace you find a solace that not even silence can bring.

“I can feel you slipping away,” Steve whispers, arms tightening around you with every word. His steady breathing gets interrupted by a sharp inhale, as if bracing for impact, before he says, “It scares me.”

You stiffen in his embrace. The unwavering way that Steve has always managed to see right through you still sends shockwaves through your system. It isn’t fair. 

“I’m not trying to.” You wish there was more you could say to reassure him, but exhaustion has long clouded your mind and you’re not sure how to piece together the fragments that are left.

“I know you aren’t,” Steve’s thumb traces the crest of your cheek. His eyes shine down on you soft, familiar and warm, though through the years they’ve weathered with worry. “But I need you to stay, angel.”

You’ve become a border edge of the silhouette you once were. A ghost that inhabits an abandoned body. 

“Stay here in the present with me, alright?” Steve pinches your nose and smiles bashfully when it elicits a small laugh from you. “I can’t have you getting lost in the past or stuck in a future that nobody can control. No shutting down. I won’t allow it.”

And you? You’re here. You’re here, stuck in the present with me and the party.

Lucas’ words remain etched into your mind. You haven’t forgotten them, though you suppose you haven’t quite figured out how to remain present, given how tirelessly the past tries to drown you. 

“Are you done lecturing me now?” You brush Steve’s hand away and encase it within your own, tugging him along. “Because I’m not sure how much longer we have before Robin sends a search party after us.”

But Steve doesn’t move. Instead, he remains in place and stands before you, arm extended with your hands still intertwined. His boyish face changes for a moment, flickers into something more real, more serious. “We have all the time in the world, Y/N.”

Time has always been a dangerous promise to keep, yet somehow its liminality morphs into something finite as it falls from Steve’s lips as he pulls you in.

He spins you around, holds you close to his chest as you dance together for only a brief second, before he seals his promise with a kiss that not even time itself could ever take away from you. 

– 

A distinct sense of horror freezes over your body when Robin reveals why she brought everyone to the radio station. 

Vecna has a new target. A little boy, not much older than Will had been. 

You’ve been here before.

“Derek? As in, Derek Turnbow?” Steve’s voice carries your own disbelief as he sits next to you on the couch, weight pressed to your side as a way to ground your ever growing nerves. “From the Turnbow Realty family?”

“The one and only.” Robin affirms, body hunched over in her own exhaustion. 

Your eyes close and the sensation of your nails digging into your palms provides enough of a sting to abate the panic swelling in your chest. 

“The whole family’s a menace.” Lucas says unhelpfully.

You bite back your disdain for the comment, knowing that Lucas doesn’t mean any harm. You understand why he said it, having spent a rather awful night babysitting Derek for a few hours when you were fourteen. He had been nothing but cruel, obnoxious, and vindictive. Ultimately you declined Mrs. Turnbow when she asked if you’d be willing to babysit him in the future.

Yet despite how terrible Derek Turnbow may be, he’s still just a kid. 

And you’re still marked. Vecna’s curse. It still resides in your bloodstream.

You’ll do anything to remain his sole victim. 

“How do you know it’s Derek who’s next?” You’re careful to keep your voice level, calm. The less emotion you show, the better. “I mean, as far as we know, I’m still marked. Who’s to say it isn’t me that Vecna’s looking for?”

Steve inhales sharply and Dustin drops his head to his hands. You refuse to look at them, instead choosing to aim your gaze at Robin.

Only it’s Will who answers.

“Because I saw Derek,” he says softly, almost regretful. “Not you, Y/N.”

His words confuse you. “I don’t think I understand what that means.”

“I’ve learned that when I’m close enough to the hive mind, I can tap into it. I can tap into Vecna’s mind.” Will explains, eyes regretful as he delivers the news he knows will upset you. “I can see who he’s targeting.”

Your stomach twists painfully as a new wave of horror washes over you. Will was once called a spy and declared a traitor who was forcibly locked away in a cabin in the woods in an attempt to expel the monsters inside of him. 

Now, years later, Will has become the very thing you promised him he wouldn’t.

Vecna’s spy. A weapon against his will. 

“But were you seeing through the eyes of Vecna or of Derek?” Steve rubs his temple, trying desperately to keep up.

“Both.” Will clarifies. “I-I was Vecna, but inside of Derek’s mind.”

“And you’re absolutely sure that you didn’t ‘see’ Y/N in that hallucination of yours?” Steve questions, adamant he ensures that there isn’t a hint of a possibility of you being in danger. 

Will shakes his head. “All I saw was Derek.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You insist, eager to find an answer that involves your life on the line. “I was Vecna’s last target. It should be me he comes after next. Not Derek or Holly.”

“Vecna’s a psychic serial killer. Nothing he does makes sense.” Robin reminds you gently. “I mean, he stalks his victims by invading their minds. That’s what he did with Chrissy and Max and you–”

Then Robin seems to remember just how close she came to losing you, and her mouth snaps shut immediately. “Sorry.”

You shift away from the others, uncomfortable with the sudden mournful expressions on everyone’s face. Their pity only builds resentment within your chest.

Memories from last year haunt you. Sometimes you can still feel Vecna’s claws in your membrane, but that doesn’t mean it makes you any more willing to be mourned over. Not when it was Max who suffered the consequences that should’ve been yours. 

Steve’s hand falls to your thigh as he tries to comfort you, yet Nancy, sharp as a knife, doesn’t shy away from your past.

“Vecna stalked Holly before he took her.” She looks only at you. “Only he stalked her as Henry, befriended her, for weeks.”

Nancy clenches her fists, exhales slowly, before asking the question that she dreads the most. “Were there any signs before he attacked you?”

A phantom sensation of dandelions choking you constricts your breathing. The memory of them slices your tongue, tangles your airway, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the memory from drowning you. 

“The summer before Vecna attacked… I had a nightmare.” The words get stuck in the grooves of your teeth, forcing you to spit them out like a dirty confession. “I was in a field of dandelions before they suddenly swarmed around me and I was suffocating.”

The room stands still. Unable to look at anyone, you look down at your bloodied palms instead. “Then, when Vecna showed me and Nancy our visions, he told me I've become fragile… like a dandelion.”

You steady your breathing. You don’t know why this feels as if you’re confessing something terrible. Maybe you are. 

“That’s when I realized he’d been watching me for months.”

A cacophony of reactions overtakes the room. 

Steve nearly topples out of his seat due to how fast his body turns to yours, talking a mile a minute and demanding to know more about the nightmare. “Are you serious–”

But his worries get lost in Dustin’s stunned confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve used this information sooner!”

“Was there anything else in your dream?” Mike is quick to ask his own investigative questions, knocking his elbows into your side in his hurry to get closer to you. “I mean, anything useful besides stupid dandelions?”

The voices begin to overlap in a way that dizzies you. Seeing your discomfort, Nancy places a hand on her brother’s chest and pulls him away from you while simultaneously flicking Dustin’s hat. “Give her some space.”

Mike makes a face and Dustin grumbles under his breath, but without another word the boys go back to their seats. Thankful for the breathing room, you smile appreciatively at Nancy. “Thank you.”

She smiles back, soft, tired, before it falls into a broken frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to cast the attention onto you.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head. “I want to help however I can. If it means finding Holly and protecting Derek, then I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

“Do you… know why Vecna gave you evil dandelion nightmares?” Mike asks cautiously, unsure how much you’re willing to disclose.

“No,” you admit, regretful. You’re the only person alive who was marked by Vecna and the only source of information available. You despise how little you’re able to help. “I never understood why. All I can remember is that the field felt familiar, like I’d been there before. I…” You clear your throat and cast a nervous glance towards your brother. “I think he was showing me Virginia. Where I grew up.”

Dustin’s spine goes pin straight at the revelation, though he remains quiet. Mike, however, narrows his eyes. “Nancy and I think that Vecna was trying to earn Holly’s trust. That’s why he befriended her. Maybe he was trying to earn yours, too?”

A sarcastic laugh falls from your mouth. “Yeah, well if his long-term goal was forming a friendship, then giving me a nightmare where I suffocate in dandelions was a pretty shitty attempt.”

“Maybe he was shy?” Robin suggests with a wince.

Steve shakes his head in disappointment while you huff lightly. “Unlikely.”

“Well whatever Vecna’s plan is,” Will recenters the group, silencing the room once more. “We have to stop him, and we have to save Derek.”

And the rest is decided.

–

Will herds everyone downstairs and instructs you to stand in front of the projector. Within minutes he has a pointer aimed at the map of Hawkins as he explains his plan with a confidence that surprises you.

“The Turnbows live here.” Will points to a neighborhood on the map. “We wait in a van across the street.”

For as long as you’ve known Will, he has always been a follower rather than a leader. Now, as you watch him command the room, you’re confronted with just how much he’s grown, and it fills you with warm, pleasant pride. 

Then Will proposes kidnapping a child and you’re reminded all over again just how naive and insanely young he still is.

“As soon as they’re asleep, we move in, we grab Derek, and we take him to the McCorkle farm. It’s completely abandoned and isolated.”

“Oh absolutely not.” You gawk, baffled. “There’s no way I’m kidnapping another kid.”

Lucas’ eyes widen. “‘Another kid’?”

“Unfortunately Erica counts as the first.”

“We’ll be using a blindfold.” Will waves his pointer at you. “So technically it isn’t kidnapping if Derek never finds out who we are or where he is.”

“That’s literally the definition of kidnapping.”

“Better than Vecna kidnapping him.” Robin snaps her fingers. “I’d consider us a much better option.”

While she’s right, you still wholly dislike the plan. “Can’t we do something a little less… extreme?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees, looking over to his mom who has been silent the entire time. “Are you alright with just kidnapping a child?”

“Robin’s right. We’re saving a child via kidnapping. So it’s fine. I think.” Joyce shrugs, though she grimaces at her own words and quickly backtracks. “Alright. Now’s not the time to play it safe, Jonathan.”

You step forward, casting an apologetic look towards the woman. “With all due respect, Mrs. Byers, I think now is the exact time to be playing it safe. We’ve already lost El and Hopper and Holly. We can’t just blindly run into whatever Vecna has planned for us.”

Dustin nods. “I’m not morally opposed to the plan, but I agree with Y/N. There’s a few holes in it.”

“Like what if Derek falls asleep before the Demogorgon attacks him?” Lucas suggests.

“That’s one.” Your brother agrees. 

“Or what if Derek wakes up before we grab him and alerts his family? We’ll go to jail.” Nancy points out.

“And there’s another.” Dustin nods again. “But the third, most gaping hole is that even if by some miracle this plan even works: saving Derek won’t bring us any closer to finding Vecna and the others. It just buys us some time. That’s it.”

The atmosphere turns somber at the reminder of just how much none of you know. Without El and her powers, you’re practically helpless against Vecna and locating him. 

But just as the silence becomes deafening, Mike breaks it.

“Not necessarily,” he slowly looks up at the others. “There might be a way to save Derek and find Holly.”

In a heartbeat he stands up and rummages around the basement, mumbling under his breath with every passing second. No one interferes, either too confused or too worried it will only set the kid off more.

Then Mike lunges towards a small, blue bag and he lets out a small victorious cheer. “Yes! Okay, everyone around the table, now.”

Curious, you do as he says and watch as he dumps the bag out, revealing a multitude of old, worn D&D pieces. 

“This is Derek,” Mike holds up one of the pieces, silently instructing everyone to follow along. He sets the piece down and arranges the others into a circle. “And this is the rest of the Turnbow family. We’re gonna need to recruit someone that the family trusts and can gain access to the house.”

“And this person will do what? Ask the Turnbows not to call the cops?” You ask, uncertain of the plan. 

“No, the person is going to knock the family out so we can extract them from the house.”

Mike’s words cause you to sigh. “Right. Should’ve assumed that.”

“Knock them out?” Joyce’s concern reflects your own. 

“Safely,” Mike assures her. “With sleeping pills or something.”

“I might know where we could get some benzos.” Robin supplies. “Those things are like elephant tranquilizers.”

“How would you know?” Steve eyes her wearily.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “There are now multiple felonies included in this plan.”

Robin winks. “Only the two, pretty girl.”

“We’ll take the benzos.” Mike ignores your disdain. “That way, if Vecna spies, he’ll just assume that Derek is fast asleep in bed and he’ll send his Demos to grab him. Only he won’t find Derek. He’ll find us.”

“Wait a minute,” you place your hand in the middle of the table, blocking Mike from putting any more pieces down. “Who is ‘us’?”

“Everyone in this room.” He leans forward, eyes daring you to argue. “Me and the rest of the party included.”

You go to open your mouth to argue, but Dustin interrupts before you can start. “Save your breath, Y/N. You said yourself that we’re missing Hopper and El. Like it or not, we need all the help we can get.”

As much as you want to protest, you know that your brother is right. While you hate the idea of the kids staging an ambush against Vecna, you don’t have any other option. Biting your lip, you reluctantly remove your hand and nod to Mike to continue. 

He flashes you a sarcastic thumbs up and explains that Murray will be supplying the traps that’ll hopefully burn the demogorgon. Then he stuffs his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small device. “But not before we stick him with one of these.” 

The telemetry tag flashes red on the table. “We’ll track the Demo across the Upside Down in the Squawk van just like we did with Hopper, and if we’re lucky the bastard will lead us back to its lair.”

“Where Vecna will be with Holly. Two birds, one stone.” The pieces fall into place and you nod, impressed. “Clever as always, Wheeler.”

“Someone has to be.” 

And when no one voices any complaints or possible flaws within the plan, Mike smirks triumphantly and dismisses the group to prepare for what lies ahead. 

Lucas and Mike set off to the middle school to find Erica, who apparently used to be close friends with the Turnbow’s daughter. You find it ironic that it’s somehow Erica that the plan hinges on, given her history of forced compliance. 

Robin all but drags Will outside with her to secure the benzos needed, despite your many attempts to stop her. 

“Why the hell are you taking Will with you on your drug run?” You grab at her hand and try to use all your body weight to prevent the girl from getting into Joyce’s car, but Robin has somehow become shockingly strong and tugs you away. 

“Because little Byers won’t lecture me!” Robin pokes her tongue out at you and grabs the back of Will’s collar, shoving him into the passenger seat. “See ya, pretty girl.”

Will waves. “Bye!”

You stand in the driveway alongside Joyce, who has watched the whole ordeal as you all but pout, watching as the two drive away in a fit of laughter. Neither you nor Joyce have any idea when they became the best of friends, but you’re starting to hate their newfound friendship.

“Do I have to ask if your friend will keep Will safe?” Joyce nudges her shoulder against yours, breaking you from your moody disposition briefly. 

“Robin will keep him safe,” you reluctantly promise, though you’re a little weary of their relationship. “I just have no idea how she managed to find a stash of drugs in Hawkins.”

Joyce chuckles while Steve walks up behind you and kisses your temple. “I’m sure Robin will tell you all about it the next time she orchestrates a drug deal.”

“I’m never leaving her unsupervised ever again.”

Steve’s chest rumbles in amusement and you allow yourself a moment to sink against him and close your eyes. Your days are slowly blurring together, but here, in his arms, you’re able to breathe.

Sensing the desire to be alone, Joyce gently squeezes your upper arm and places a kiss to your shoulder. The act of affection soothes the open wounds left from the night before. Her presence will always soothe you.

“Anyway, I came out here to tell you that I’ve left a spare change of clothes inside the station.” She says delicately. Her eyes never stray from yours, though you know she struggles against herself not to look down and see the mess of blood that soaks your clothing. 

A piece of your ribcage softens. “How did you–?”

“Jonathan radioed while you were asleep.” Joyce squeezes your arm again, this time with a smile you can’t quite decipher. It appears small, timid, almost nostalgic, but before you can ask her anything else, she lets you go. “I’ll be inside if you need anything.”

And with that, Joyce leaves.

–

Mike hadn’t specified what exactly Murray would be smuggling over for the Turnbow house, but when the man opens his truck and unloads the supplies, for a moment you’re fearful he somehow intercepted a serial killer’s delivery. 

Murray hands Jonathan a hyper-realistic CPR dummy that makes you highly uncomfortable to look at and Nancy an armful of ammo before turning to you with a crazed smile on his face.

“And, for little miss unbearable, I present this,” he stretches out his arm and reveals a misshapen frog puppet. “Mike said it’d help ease your nerves. Unsure why, but I’ve learned not to question the kid.”

Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?

Jonathan does a poor job of hiding his laughter while Nancy bites back an amused smile. Both Steve and Dustin outright laugh at you. 

Glaring at them, you grab the frog and hold it awkwardly between your hands. “I really hate how funny Mike is sometimes.”

“He’s an odd duck.” Murray jumps down from the truck and walks over to a crate. He throws open its top and reveals a mass of wire. “Speaking of ducks, do take care to keep your precious frog away from the 3,000 feet of barbed wire.”

“That seems excessive. Even for Mike.”

Murray shrugs at you. “It’s what he asked for. Now, onto Bilbo Baggins,” the man hands Dustin a box. “Some sparkling new spark plugs.”

Dustin frowns. “Spark plugs? That’s it?”

By the tone of his voice you know that he’s unamused with the shortchange he’s been given. 

“I’m also giving out free hugs.” Murray smiles. 

Disgust marks your face. “Do not touch my brother.”

Murray bares his teeth at you while Dustin groans. “You didn’t get the turbocharger, either?”

“No.”

“The suspension kit?”

“No.”

Sensing that your brother will only run the man in circles, you leave him to deal with Murray and go follow after Steve. Mike heroically left him the job of clearing out the van in order to smuggle the Turnbows away. While he withheld his complaints, you know that Steve will enjoy the company as he wrestles with the vehicle and its contents.

You hear Steve before you see him,

“Lousy piece of shit!” A loud thump follows his exasperated groans, proceeded by a pained yelp when he inexplicably drops whatever heavy item he’d been carrying on his foot. “Fuck!”

Turning the corner, you find your boyfriend hunched over his knees amongst an endless sea of wires and leather seats gutted from the Squawk van. Sweat drips down his forehead and his flushed skin tells you he’s one stumble away from driving the van into Mike Wheeler’s house. 

“Need some help, honey?” You brace a hand on his back, steadying his disheveled body as you carefully step inside the vehicle, careful not to fall.

Steve grabs your wrist and kisses it, his overly warm skin cools at the sensation of yours. “Have I ever told you how much I hate Mike?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“I mean,” he kicks at a loose bolt, upending yet another seat from the van’s floor. “Why am I the one tasked with cleaning out this hunk of metal? Do we even need the entire bed of this thing, anyways? Can’t we just squish everything inside and call it a day?”

You snort. “You do realize that we’re throwing an entire family back here, right?”

“They’ll be too knocked out to care.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Steve chuckles and reaches for your waist. Once he has you where he wants you, he pulls your body down onto his and lands on the last remaining seat within the van. The old leather cracks beneath your bodies, but neither you nor Steve pay any attention to it.

Steve’s head buries itself into your chest and you feel him exhale slowly. Your fingers find his hair, entertaining themselves within the strands you’ve long since have claimed as your own, and he presses himself deeper into your touch. 

“Miss you,” he mumbles, hands roaming down to your thighs as he pulls them over his lap so that you’re seated flush against him. It’s been so long since Steve has had you this close.

And though he’s been at your beck and call ever since yesterday morning, you understand the ache that Steve feels in his longing for you. “I miss you, too.”

You haven’t been alone, truly alone, with Steve in nearly three days. Once, the absence would’ve gone unnoticed. It was you who insisted on spending an entire summer ignoring him and his stupid boyish charm. Now, with the knowledge of just how lovely it is to be Steve Harrington’s, you feel devoid of any pleasure whenever he’s gone.

Steve’s stomach presses against yours as he inhales deeply. Light, butterfly-soft kisses litter themselves along your collarbones. Your breathy laugh accompanies the tender admiration, which Steve smiles in response to as well. 

“I’m sorry about Dustin,” the apology falls between each kiss. “I know I can be a massive dick to him sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You look down at him with a teasing smile, though you both know you mean it. 

“More than I’d like to admit.” Steve relents, placing a kiss to the base of your throat. You hum at the sensation, and your satisfaction gives him the confidence to find the rest of his words. “I know I should be more patient with him, but I just… I hate the way he treats you.”

“It isn’t your responsibility to defend me. I don’t want you to defend me.” Your fingers dance over Steve’s, intertwining them together. “Not when I understand Dustin’s anger better than anyone else.”

“That still doesn’t make it fair to you, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh at this. “And when has anything in my life been fair?”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t find your words as funny as you do. 

But rather than continue to try and convince you of all you deserve, knowing it to be a useless endeavor, he instead accepts what he knows you can offer him. “How’re you holding up?”

Though he can’t bring himself to say Vecna’s name, you know that Steve’s question resides in how everyone’s eyes fell on you when you revealed he’d been watching you for a long time.

“I’m fine.” Neither you nor Steve can tell if you’re lying.

“You know that you can always step away, right?” His fingers grow restless in yours. The unease that follows his question makes you wonder just how long his worry has festered. “Let Mike and the others handle the Turnbows if you need the break. I mean, no one would blame you.”

Though you know he means well, you fervently shake your head at what Steve has said. “I promised Nancy I’d bring Holly back to her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Now Steve is the one who shifts uncomfortably. “Y/N, you just had to relive your worst nightmare in front of an entire group of people. You had Mrs. Wheeler’s blood all over you not even an hour ago. I-I can’t imagine what you must be feeling–”

“However I’m feeling doesn’t matter.” You cut off Steve’s concerned rambling. “Nancy and Mike lost their sister, Steve. Their parents are laying in hospital beds. Whatever I may be feeling, I can promise you that what they’re going through is even more painful, even more debilitating.”

You straighten your back and look down at the man beneath you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and despite the fact that you’re solidifying every fear that Steve has, he still gazes up at you as if you’ve given him the ocean and its waves. 

“I’m going to the Turnbow’s.”

Your tone remains definitive. There is no room for arguments or discontent. 

Bittersweet worry infiltrates Steve’s mouth. He understands that there isn’t any way he can change your mind or convince you to place yourself first. The bags underneath your eyes have only grown worse these last few days. He doesn’t think they will ever get better. 

And while Steve wants nothing more than to encase you into his chest and keep you away from everything that could ever hurt you, yourself included, Jonathan’s obnoxious voice leaks into his mind and reminds Steve that he can’t sideline you.

You’d never forgive him if he did. 

Exhaling the last of his doubts, Steve caresses your lower back and you watch his eyes soften. He will always love you and your selfish desire to be needed. You will always love him and his inability to resent you for it. 

Even if it means one day you’ll burn yourself up, leaving Steve to bury your ashes. 

“What are you guys doing?”

Dustin’s arrival forces you to pull away from your boyfriend. Stuffing your hands behind your back, feeling like a little kid caught, you clear your throat and face your brother. “We’re getting the van set up. Mike’s orders.”

“But why even bother?” Dustin kicks at one of the many discarded objects outside of the vehicle, which all lay haphazardly on the grass. “This van is a lost cause, anyways.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Take it won’t help us, then. Like usual.”

The throwaway comment causes you to stiffen while Dustin narrows his eyes. But rather than bite back at Steve’s bark, your brother surprises you.

“No, what I mean is that this piece of shit once stalled out chugging up Pickett Road.” Dustin clarifies, tone neutral. “It’s not fast enough to keep up with a Demo without serious modifications.”

“And this is us modifying.” Steve gestures between you and him before pointing towards the discarded pile. “A lighter van is a faster van.”

“We’ll also be attempting to fit an entire family inside,” you remind him. “But sure. I guess we’re making it faster, too.”

Steve nods. “And if we’re just tracking, we won’t need half the shit that’s in here. Speaking of, can you go to the front and empty out the window washer fluid?”

You tilt your head. “The… window washer fluid?”

“I’m sure emptying it will work wonders. Good job, Steven.” Dustin claps his hands, emphasizing his nasally and cruel words. 

“Dustin!” 

He ignores your warning. “No, truly. I’m stunned by Steve’s intellect. Who knew your boyfriend could think?”

You’re about to snatch Dustin’s hat off his head and show him exactly how little patience you have left, but Steve puts a hand in front of you, blocking him.

“You know what, Henderson? I think we should do what your sister suggested yesterday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dustin frowns, unused to Steve’s delay in the fight.

“It means we should both just shut up.” And with that, Steve shushes your brother and goes back to clearing out the van.

You’re so stunned by Steve’s uncharacteristic diplomacy that you don’t notice Dustin’s greedy eyes landing on a drill. He grabs it, investigates it with a terrifying smirk, before walking away with a pep in his step.

“Where the hell is he going with that?” Steve asks you, annoyance and slight fear tainting his voice. 

“I have no idea.” You quickly climb out of the van and follow after your brother. “Dustin, what are you–” 

Your words die in your throat when you realize he’s walking straight towards Steve’s car.

Nothing ever ends well when Dustin is given a power tool.

“Steve’s right, Y/N.” He climbs up onto the car’s roof and tilts his hat at you. “We don’t need half of the crap in there for our mission. In fact, the only thing we really need is a telemetry tracker, which I can affix to any vehicle.”

“You little shit!” Immediately understanding what Dustin intends, you lunge towards the car and attempt to climb it, but Steve’s hands force you down. “Let me go!”

He winces at how violently you thrash around, but his grip on you remains firm. While he’s worried about his car, he’s even more worried you’ll wind up getting hurt. “I really don’t want you accidentally impaling yourself with a power drill.”

You ignore his concern and flail your legs around, trying desperately to free yourself. “Dustin Henderson, put down your obnoxious ego so we can talk about this–”

“Thought you told me and Steve to shut up?” Your brother laughs like a deranged child at his own joke before bringing the tip of the power drill down to the roof.

Even Steve can’t keep his composure as Dustin switches the tool on, inches away from his beloved car. “Woah, hey! Don’t make me let your sister go!”

As if to emphasize his threat, you seethe at Dustin, “I’m going to kill you!” 

But Dustin knows that Steve would never, ever put you in a situation where you could potentially harm yourself, and it’s with this knowledge that he happily punctures the BMW with the drill. 

The unnecessary attack on the car you fell in love in only causes you to writhe in Steve’s grasp harder, almost animalistic as you shout threats and curses at your infuriating little brother.

“I’m telling mom you ruined Steve’s car!”

“Then I’m telling her you told me to shut up!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Where do you think I get it from?”

Soon both of your voices get drowned out as you and Dustin bicker back and forth with no end in sight. For a moment you’re just two little kids tattling on each other and throwing around harmless insults from when you were children. 

Steve would find it endearing if your screeching and the roar of the power drill weren’t seconds away from deafening him. 

So much for the Henderson charm. 

– 

Because Mike hates you, he shoves you, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy into Steve’s car before anyone can process what’s happening.

“Good luck,” he said with a smug smile. “You’ll all make a fantastic lookout squad.”

Mike then slammed the car door shut and ran away before Steve could run him over.

Which is how you find yourself stuck in between Jonathan and Nancy in the backseat of Steve’s now ruined car parked outside of the Turnbow house.

Somehow Dustin winds up in the passenger seat, which you resent him for.

The nighttime air is unusually warm, doing nothing to help abide the tension in the car as you all sit stiffly beside one another with too much unspoken history.

You twist your fingers together in your lap, unable to say anything as Dustin peers out the window with binoculars held up to his eyes to watch for Erica.

“She’s in,” he finally says into the walkie, alerting the others. 

“Thank god,” you exhale the breath you’d been holding. The sooner you’re out of the car, the better.

Jonathan shifts next to you, awkwardly adjusting himself so that he doesn’t press too deeply against your side. “It’s… a bit warm in here, don’t you think?”

Both you and Nancy turn to him, unsure which of you he’s talking to.

After an uncomfortably long pause, Jonathan seems to sense the confusion and clears his throat. “Nancy, why don’t we wait outside? Get some fresh air?”

Nancy frowns at the offer and looks at you, silently asking what she should do. All you can give her is a helpless shrug. “A walk sounds nice.”

This doesn’t seem to be the answer Nancy wants. Her frown deepens. “But what about keeping a lookout for Erica’s signal?”

“We’ll stay here,” you gesture towards Dustin and Steve. “We’ll get you guys when it’s time to go.”

Nancy bites her lip and considers this. Steve watches her hesitation through the rear mirror. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the bizarre shift between her and Jonathan.

“C’mon, Nance.” Jonathan reaches over you to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “Who knows how long until Erica knocks the Turnbows out?”

“Fine,” she finally gives in, unbuckling her seatbelt. “But we aren’t going far, alright?”

Jonathan nods, happy just to have gotten Nancy out of the car, and quickly the two of them close the doors behind them. 

Their departure eases the tension in the vehicle slightly, and you allow yourself a second to enjoy the small moment of peace. 

But Dustin and Steve waste no time ruining it.

“What the hell is going on between them?” Your brother asks the second Jonathan and Nancy leave.

You open your eyes and find both boys turned towards you with like two curious street cats. You’re immediately defensive, weary of their intentions. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Y/N.” Steve scoffs. “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that they’re clearly miserable.”

“They’re one awkward hug away from becoming depressing to look at.” Dustin adds. 

You stare at them both, stunned. While you can’t say that Jonathan and Nancy have been their normal selves recently, you’re surprised that even Dustin and Steve have caught on.

“I don’t really think now is the best time to be talking about this,” you hiss at them, nervous that the couple in question could be right outside the car listening. “This feels incredibly wrong and invasive–”

“So there’s definitely something wrong with them.” Dustin concludes from your uncomfortable reaction. 

Steve nods. “I bet it’s all Byers’ fault.”

“Duh.”

“And I bet Y/N knows more than she’s willing to let on.”

“Correct again, Harrington.”

Suddenly Dustin and Steve gang up against you like brothers, nosey and annoying, and watching them fall back into their easy connection that you’ve missed so much makes you helpless against their interrogations. 

You’ll do anything for one more minute of their friendship. 

“Fine,” nervously you look out the window, making sure neither Nancy nor Jonathan are close by. “I’ll admit that there’s… something wrong with them.”

“Aha!” Steve exclaims, pointing an excited finger at you. “I knew it!”

Mortified, you push his finger away. “Shhh!”

Dustin leans forward, eager for more. “Go on. We’re listening.”

You push your hair back, suddenly too warm. “Look, I really don’t know much more than you guys. All I can tell you is that Jonathan has been really weird lately and Nancy has been incredibly distant.”

“I still think Jonathan did something.”

You glare at Steve. “You’re ridiculous.”

He smirks, ready to tease you even more, but he’s cut off by Jonathan’s quick taps on the windshield to catch everyone’s attention. “Erica gave the signal. Let’s go.”

The bright mood in the car dims once again, and without saying another word the three of you exit the car and follow after the others into the Turnbow house.

–

Hiding the bodies is the easy part, as horrifying as that sounds. 

Joyce backs the van into the Turnbow’s garage while you help Robin wrap the family in sheets. Their sleeping bodies look too similar to corpses, making your stomach twist at the thought. 

“It concerns me how many felonies I’ve committed with minors.” You choke back a gag, wrapping Tina’s small body up.

Erica rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Y/N.”

Once you have every family member safely inside the van, you knock three times on the vehicle to signal to Joyce that she can now drive off. Once she’s gone, everyone immediately gets to work. 

Rearranging the house becomes a harder task than anticipated. It’s huge, filled to the brim with expensive items and large pieces of furniture with limited time to get rid of it all.

Everyone has a designated job as you all work in silence together. You stick with Steve, Dustin, and Mike and help them set a trap for the Demogorgon. As you hammer nails into a piece of plywood, a sickening sense of deja-vu overwhelms you. 

Years ago you were in the Byers’ home doing this very same thing, preparing to face a creature you didn’t yet have a name for and you were in way over your head. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. Back then you had been naive to the monsters that lay hidden beneath Hawkins. 

Now, as you help set a trap for a Demogorgon you’ve faced before, you still can’t help but feel that you’re biting off more than you can chew. That your naivety still haunts you. 

Once the trap has been laid, Dustin gathers everyone into the garage and hands out the necessary weapons. While none of you hope you’ll have to use them, you all recognize the reality of what may come. 

You choose to stick with your knives. They bring you comfort in a way no other weapon can. As you go upstairs and sit in a corner to sharpen the blades, a loud, metallic sound pierces your eardrums. 

“What the fuck?” You turn in your seat and find Steve wielding a large, far too dangerous chainsaw. 

“Like it?” He waves the chainsaw around as he laughs like a kid in a candy store. “Don’t I look badass?”

Mike visibly groans while you cover your ears and shout, “Turn that thing off!”

Steve obliges, though not without pouting. “Admit it, angel. I look hot carrying this.”

“Kill me.” Dustin and Jonathan gag. 

“I prefer men with all five fingers, Steve.”

Nancy snickers, holding her hand out for a high-five which you readily accept. Steve visibly deflates at your disapproval, but when Mike orders him to cut through the Turnbow’s living room floor with the chainsaw, he’s all too happy to help. 

“This is by far the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,” you stare down at the gaping hole in the floor, which leads directly into a nest of barbed wire. “And we’ve fought evil Russians before.”

“Just savor the moment, Y/N.” Dustin pats your back roughly. “We’re about to successfully trap a Demogorgon.”

–

Your feet tap nervously against the floor of Steve’s car, anxious as ever with your eyes glued to the skyline for any sign of danger. There are so many aspects of the plan that could go horribly wrong. 

Lucas could get hurt distracting the creature, or Mike could trip over his own two feet and fall into the barbed wire pit himself. 

The Demogorgon could completely run past the faux floor and not fall in, leaving you trapped in a house with it.

Or worse, Nancy could miss her only shot at the Demogorgon and fail to implant the telemetry tag, meaning all the work you put in and all the laws you broke would be for nothing.

“This is gonna work.” Dustin reassures the doubts that you don’t voice. 

You stare out the window. “It better work.” 

Holly and El are depending on the plan. 

Their lives are on the line and you’re helpless against the forces that separate you if something goes wrong tonight.

They’re just kids. 

Steve senses your worry and tries to get you to smile. “If this plan doesn’t work and I drilled a giant antenna into my car for nothing, I’m gonna kill Wheeler.”

Despite yourself, you manage a small laugh. “I think it adds character.”

“Hey.” Robin’s voice floats through the walkie. “Talk to me, guys. How’s it looking out there?”

You reach over for the device and respond. “It’s quite over here. How are the Turnbows holding up?”

“They’re still in their ‘food comas’, but I swear to god, this Demo better show up.” Robin huffs out. “If we took out an entire family for nothing, I don’t think my conscience will recover.”

“I’m really tired of committing felonies.”

Robin laughs at this. “Isn’t your boyfriend, like, super well connected with a ton of rich lawyers? I doubt Steve would ever let you anywhere near a jail cell. You’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Damn right.”

You ignore him and continue talking to Robin. Her ability to soothe you with her soft humor comforts you. “His uncle is a lawyer, actually.”

“Even better! Although I do hope that Steve isn’t related to some douchebag who defends rich criminals, even if white collar crime sounds like a Harrington thing to do.” Robin rambles on. “I do think in this case, however, the rich douchebags would be coming for us.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Technically, I think his uncle his legally required to take a few cases pro bono, so maybe he can help us–”

“Shh!” Dustin harshly shushes you, eyes glued to his binoculars.

Your body springs to attention, leaning forward so that you can get a better look at whatever the hell he’s spotted. You squint your eyes, straining to see something, until you finally find it.

The streetlamps are flickering. 

Your fingers find your knives, pressing the base of its handle into your palm. Adrenaline courses through your veins, it rips through your ribcage and sets every cell in your body on fire. 

It’s time.

“I fucking hate doing this.” You spit out, body bracing for an impact yet to come. 

Dustin ignores you while Steve grabs the walkie from your hand.

“I think we’ve got company. It’s going south down Arlington, T-minus thirty seconds.” He informs the others. “Status check. Taggers?” 

“In position and set.” Nancy confirms. “Launcher?” 

Lucas confirms as well. “Set. Catcher?”

“Set.” Mike’s voice crackles through the walkie. “Trackers?”

You, Dustin, and Steve all look at each other. Anticipation hangs in the air.

“Set.” Steve confirms. “Let’s do this thing already.”

The channel goes quiet as everyone prepares for what’s to come. 

One by one the streetlamps flicker to life, a trail of light that slowly ebbs its way to the Turnbow’s house until suddenly the house itself begins to flash wildly. Shadows dance across its porch and windows as the lights rapidly fade in and out.

“It’s inside.” Dustin reveals to Steve. “Minimize chatter.”

He quickly relays the information to the others inside the house. “It’s inside. No one talk.”

You get out of the car, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Your muscles pull taut, aching to be released. 

Will had been right. There’s no turning back now. 

Through the window you’re able to faintly see the outline of the Demogorgon creep inside of Derek’s room. It sniffs the air, head low as it hunts for the prey you know it won’t find. The minute it reaches the foot of Derek’s bed and claws at the decoy, you run. 

Someone has to be the one to ensure Lucas makes it to the living room in time, and you’ve spent all your life running. 

Within seconds you fling the front door open and shout as loud as you can, “Run!”

You hear Lucas attacking the Demogorgon upstairs with gasoline waterballoons. You anxiously wait for him, heart in your throat, and remain on high alert as the kid comes flying down the stairs, narrowly dodging the trip wire as the monster chases him.

Its pained screams tell you the trip wire has worked, and Lucas lands next to you with a loud thud and you quickly scan his body for any injuries. “Are you alright?”

“No time to talk,” he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the living room. “We need to go!”

Just as you start to run, the Demogorgon jumps over the stair’s railing and nearly crushes you both with its body. You scream, shoving Lucas behind you and stab at it with your knives all while Lucas narrowly manages to navigate the two of you to where Mike awaits. 

Then you’re flying through the air, jumping over the carpet that hides the trap beneath it, and somehow, miraculously, the Demogorgon falls into it just as you’ve landed on the couch across. 

Only its claws grip onto the wooden floor, scratching at the panels as it fights its way back up. Mike bludgeons the monster with a shovel in an attempt to get it to surrender to the inevitable. 

“Get him!” You shout alongside Lucas, hands braced on your knives in case you need to use them. 

With one last blow, Mike sends the Demogorgon down into the Turnbow’s basement where the barbed wires and Nancy and Jonathan await. It writhes in pain, stuck in the painful wire, and in its torture it doesn’t see the shotgun that Nancy aims at its defenseless body. 

The shot echoes within the house and embeds the tracker into its thick skin. The Demogorgon doesn’t have time to register its pain before Jonathan throws a lit flare at it, devouring the monster in flames. 

Just as you think the Demogorgon will finally succumb to its wounds, it thows its body back up towards you, Mike, and Lucas as it screeches in pain. The heat of its flame infested body sears your skin as Mike pushes you out of its way, attacking it with his shovel.

“Get him, Mike!” Lucas screams from the other side, unable to do anything else but watch. 

You lunge at the creature, slicing through its armoured skin as you try desperately to ignore the burning sensation that coats the whites of your knuckles. All you focus on is protecting Mike. Nothing else matters.

The Demogorgon unexpectedly throws its body towards Lucas, and you scream his name so loud that it tears through your vocal chords. He only just barely dodges the monster’s attack before a gate tears open in the wall and the Demogorgon slips inside, making its escape.

“It flipped! I repeat, it flipped!” Mike screams into his walkie before frantically turning to you. “Go follow it, now!”

You flee the house with Nancy and Jonathan right behind you. The three of you throw yourselves into the back of Steve’s car, long past the uncomfortable sensation of being so close together as adrenaline eats you alive. 

“Where is it?” Jonathan demands the second he slides into the seat.

Dustin waves his arm around. “Give me a second!”

Everyone shuts up as he carefully angles the antenna to catch any signal he can find. “Bearing northwest and fast.” Dustin tells Steve, signaling him to start driving.

Steve turns the key, but the engine sputters and groans. “C’mon, work with me here.”

“The Demogorgon is tagged and released.” Dustin clings onto the antenna, radioing everyone your every move. “Trackers in pursuit. Repeat, trackers in pursuit.” He gestures wildly at Steve, who still hasn’t gotten the car to start. “Hit it!”

Your body gets thrown against the seat as Steve accelerates down the road far faster than he should. One more law broken tonight.

“Signal is holding. Keep steady… Holding…” Dustin’s eyes never leave the decibel meter until he abruptly instructs, “Turn right!”

“Right?” Bewilderment covers Steve’s face. There isn’t any road to the right.

“Right! Turn right!” A crazed glint overtakes Dustin’s eyes. “Now!”

Not having any time to argue, Steve blindly jerks the steering wheel and barrels through several fences and mailboxes. The car jumps and lurches at every collision and you have to cling desperately onto Nancy and Jonathan to avoid flying through the windshield. 

“Sorry!” Steve shouts over and over with every bush and curb he hits.

Your stomach twists into painful knots as nausea overwhelms you.

You really didn’t miss the car chases. 

“We’re going to crash!” Jonathan wraps you in his arms, barely clinging onto his own seat as Steve hits yet another fence. “Jesus!”

“Dustin said turn right!” Steve screeches back, hitting his head against the roof after the car runs over something else. 

But Dustin ignores the pained screams and panic. Instead he studies the decibel meter and when the signal suddenly seems to weaken, he silences everyone in the car. “Shut up! Stop! We need to stop right here!”

Steve slams on the brakes and Nancy has to catch your body before you face plant into the center console. “Fuck!”

“Goddamn it, Henderson!” Steve hits the steering wheel in frustration. “What are we doing?”

“We lost the signal!” Dustin erratically steers the antenna in every possible direction.

Dread fills your lungs with every passing second. Have you gotten it all wrong? Did Vecna manage to win again? Will Holly’s blood stain your hands the way her mother’s did? The way Max’s stain still lingers?

“I got it!” Dustin’s voice breaks you from your terror. “It’s headed southeast now.”

“Southeast?” That’s the complete other way you were originally going. “Why would it go–”

You’re unable to finish your sentence before Steve propels the car into reverse, following the signal before it’s lost again. “Hang on!”

“But why would it turn around?” You lean forward as far as you dare, hands gripping the seat tightly as you force Dustin to look at you and reckon with the question that haunts you. “Where is it going?”

“I don’t know,” your brother confesses, risking looking away from the decibel meter to catch your eye. “I’m sorry, Y/N. But I don’t know where the hell this thing is going.”

None of it makes sense. “There’s nothing east except…”

Hawkins urban development predominately took over the west side of the city when it was first established. The west is where all the stores, houses, and schools are. 

But east of Hawkins has remained untouched, rural ever since your mother was a child. While the rest of the city grew and expanded, the east kept its trees and farmland.

Then it hits you like a truck. “The farm!”

The Demogorgon is leading you straight towards the McCorkle farm, where Will and others are. It was supposed to be a refuge for them. A place to hide the Turnbows. A place to be utterly defenseless. 

And now there’s a Demogorgon hunting for blood, running right towards them.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

Faint whispers trickle through your eardrums. They’re soft, quiet at the rounded vowels, and the hushed words almost go undetected. 

“Do we just let her sleep?”

“What other choice do we have?”

A third hushed voice breaks through your haze of sleep. “Or we could just wake her up, dipshits.”

“Real nice, Henderson.” 

“You asked for my input, so I gave it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be such an asshole about it.” 

Suddenly the voices rise in volume as Steve and Dustin break out into yet another exhausting argument. Faintly you register Jonathan’s soft voice pleading with them to be quiet, fearful of waking you up, but the fear has long since come to pass.

Your eyes open and your gaze lands on Steve and Dustin in the front seat, bodies facing away from each other in a tense standoff with Jonathan next to you, a worried hand on the base of your ankle as he anxiously endures the conversation. 

“Listen, if we don’t wake Y/N up then she’ll wring our asses.” Dustin says, rolling his eyes at Steve’s dismissive huff. 

“But this is the first time she’s slept in days,” the older boy reminds your brother. “Like hell am I waking her up. She needs the rest.”

The reminder of the events from the last forty-eight hours settles into your bones. Forcing yourself to sit up, ignoring every fiber of your body that begs to be laid to rest, you look out through the van’s window and realize you’re parked in front of the radio tower. 

Daylight surrounds itself around you. A deep, dull ache sits in your back. 

You must’ve slept the entire night on the van’s floor. 

“Unfortunately I’m already up.” 

All three boys whip their heads to look at you, staring down at you as if you’re some science experiment they haven’t quite figured out. 

Steve clears his throat sheepishly, now red. “Did we wake you?”

“Of course you woke her up.” Jonathan snaps, removing his hand from your ankle as if it has stung him. Although the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by either you or Steve, whose eyes narrow dangerously. 

He sucks in a breath, reeling for another fight, but you fling your hands out in annoyance and beckon towards the radio station. “I’d prefer if someone explained to me why we’re back here.”

Both Dustin and Jonathan turn to Steve expectantly, forming an unspoken alliance against him. Steve’s face pinches together as he waves his middle finger at them before turning to you. “Robin radioed us while you were asleep.”

Immediately you sit up properly. “What’d she say? Is everyone okay?”

“She’s with Will and Joyce,” Steve continues, fingers brushing over yours to quell the sting of your rapidly building hope. “But that’s all she told us before demanding that we meet here to discuss a new lead she has.”

While the information remains vague, it’s enough to snag at the remaining fragments of hope inside your chest as it expels the remnants of your exhaustion. Scrambling to your knees, you frantically crawl out of the van before anyone can stop you. 

Early morning birdsong greets you as your feet touch the grass. Time almost seems to stand still as you take in the rolling hills and green meadows before you. In the sunlight the red of Karen Wheeler’s blood on your clothing burns to brown and the kiss of the sun’s warmth masks the multitudes of grief that you can never seem to outrun. 

Yet in the distance Nancy’s car sends billows of smoke signals into the air and the minute she steps out of the vehicle her legs carry her to you. 

“Y/N.” Nancy’s small frame shudders against your chest as you hold her in your arms. Her eyes are as bloodshot as yours.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe into her neck, apologizing for the unfair hand she’s been dealt as you hold onto her so tightly that her skin becomes yours. “How is she–?”

You’re unable to utter Karen Wheeler’s name, though her daughter understands anyways. “She made it to the hospital. That’s all we know.”

You exhale at her words, your fingernails dig into her back and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Nancy so frail. A heavy hand falls on your lower back, accompanied by a gruff voice, “let me see her.”

If it were anyone else you’d bare your teeth and spit foul words, but for Jonathan Byers you lessen your grip on Nancy Wheeler and watch, silently, as she melts into his embrace. They come together like water, melting into one, and for a moment they’re just two kids in love. 

“You look like hell.” Mike steps out of the car and bypasses all formalities upon noticing you. Lucas stands next to him and both boys look about as well as you feel.

Though try as he might, Mike can’t hide his hurt from you. Traces of dread etch his face, and you’re pulling him into your arms before he can escape. “How’re you holding up?”

He stiffens at the unexpected embrace, but after everything he’s been through the last sixteen hours, he can’t bring himself to pull away. His chest rises slowly, exhales even slower as he says, “I-I don’t really know what I’m doing–holy shit.”

Suddenly Mike shoves you away and rushes towards your brother, eyes narrowed at the onslaught of bruises and blood that stain his face. 

“You look like hell, dude.” Mike lets out a low whistle, studying Dustin’s face.

“Bike crash.” The lie comes out of Dustin’s mouth with a practiced ease that makes you uncomfortable. 

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Flew headfirst into a light post.” 

You feel Steve bristle next to you. Everyone knows that Dustin is lying.

Sharp pain coats your mouth as you bite the inside of your cheek. There’s nothing you can say that would change anything. 

“Look, I’m sorry about missing the crawl, and about… Everything.” Dustin averts everyone’s gaze. The guilt eats him alive. You know how painful the sensation of its hunger can be. 

“It’s not your fault,” Mike’s quick reassurance to comfort his friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that you find hard to swallow. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Looks like he already did.” Lucas steps closer to your brother and grimaces at the injuries that scatter his face. 

He reaches to Dustin’s nose, as if about to grab it, before you slap him away like a mother scolding a child. “Please don’t make the injury worse.”

Lucas glares at you, immediately defensive. “I just wanted to see if it was broken!”

“By touching it?” Dustin takes several steps back, alarmed at the idea of Lucas prodding at his still sore nose. 

An argument starts to break out between the two boys, but it quickly comes to an end when Robin flings the radio station’s door open and gestures wildly for everyone’s attention.

“Hey, this isn’t a social call, guys.” Her tone borders on annoyance and the manic glint in her eyes tells you that she hasn’t had a pleasant night, either. “Let’s go!”

Slowly everyone settles back into the realization of where they are, of why they’re in the middle of an abandoned field running on exhaustion and paranoia. Mike is the first to follow Robin inside, followed by Lucas and Dustin, and eventually even Nancy manages to break herself out of her grief long enough to grab Jonathan’s hand and guide him inside. 

You’re left with Steve and a silence that presses into your ribcage. 

You’ve never known how to survive in the silence. 

But then Steve’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, uncaring of the torn clothing and bloodstains. He holds you to his chest, cradles your head so that you can hear every beat of his heart, and in his embrace you find a solace that not even silence can bring.

“I can feel you slipping away,” Steve whispers, arms tightening around you with every word. His steady breathing gets interrupted by a sharp inhale, as if bracing for impact, before he says, “It scares me.”

You stiffen in his embrace. The unwavering way that Steve has always managed to see right through you still sends shockwaves through your system. It isn’t fair. 

“I’m not trying to.” You wish there was more you could say to reassure him, but exhaustion has long clouded your mind and you’re not sure how to piece together the fragments that are left.

“I know you aren’t,” Steve’s thumb traces the crest of your cheek. His eyes shine down on you soft, familiar and warm, though through the years they’ve weathered with worry. “But I need you to stay, angel.”

You’ve become a border edge of the silhouette you once were. A ghost that inhabits an abandoned body. 

“Stay here in the present with me, alright?” Steve pinches your nose and smiles bashfully when it elicits a small laugh from you. “I can’t have you getting lost in the past or stuck in a future that nobody can control. No shutting down. I won’t allow it.”

And you? You’re here. You’re here, stuck in the present with me and the party.

Lucas’ words remain etched into your mind. You haven’t forgotten them, though you suppose you haven’t quite figured out how to remain present, given how tirelessly the past tries to drown you. 

“Are you done lecturing me now?” You brush Steve’s hand away and encase it within your own, tugging him along. “Because I’m not sure how much longer we have before Robin sends a search party after us.”

But Steve doesn’t move. Instead, he remains in place and stands before you, arm extended with your hands still intertwined. His boyish face changes for a moment, flickers into something more real, more serious. “We have all the time in the world, Y/N.”

Time has always been a dangerous promise to keep, yet somehow its liminality morphs into something finite as it falls from Steve’s lips as he pulls you in.

He spins you around, holds you close to his chest as you dance together for only a brief second, before he seals his promise with a kiss that not even time itself could ever take away from you. 

– 

A distinct sense of horror freezes over your body when Robin reveals why she brought everyone to the radio station. 

Vecna has a new target. A little boy, not much older than Will had been. 

You’ve been here before.

“Derek? As in, Derek Turnbow?” Steve’s voice carries your own disbelief as he sits next to you on the couch, weight pressed to your side as a way to ground your ever growing nerves. “From the Turnbow Realty family?”

“The one and only.” Robin affirms, body hunched over in her own exhaustion. 

Your eyes close and the sensation of your nails digging into your palms provides enough of a sting to abate the panic swelling in your chest. 

“The whole family’s a menace.” Lucas says unhelpfully.

You bite back your disdain for the comment, knowing that Lucas doesn’t mean any harm. You understand why he said it, having spent a rather awful night babysitting Derek for a few hours when you were fourteen. He had been nothing but cruel, obnoxious, and vindictive. Ultimately you declined Mrs. Turnbow when she asked if you’d be willing to babysit him in the future.

Yet despite how terrible Derek Turnbow may be, he’s still just a kid. 

And you’re still marked. Vecna’s curse. It still resides in your bloodstream.

You’ll do anything to remain his sole victim. 

“How do you know it’s Derek who’s next?” You’re careful to keep your voice level, calm. The less emotion you show, the better. “I mean, as far as we know, I’m still marked. Who’s to say it isn’t me that Vecna’s looking for?”

Steve inhales sharply and Dustin drops his head to his hands. You refuse to look at them, instead choosing to aim your gaze at Robin.

Only it’s Will who answers.

“Because I saw Derek,” he says softly, almost regretful. “Not you, Y/N.”

His words confuse you. “I don’t think I understand what that means.”

“I’ve learned that when I’m close enough to the hive mind, I can tap into it. I can tap into Vecna’s mind.” Will explains, eyes regretful as he delivers the news he knows will upset you. “I can see who he’s targeting.”

Your stomach twists painfully as a new wave of horror washes over you. Will was once called a spy and declared a traitor who was forcibly locked away in a cabin in the woods in an attempt to expel the monsters inside of him. 

Now, years later, Will has become the very thing you promised him he wouldn’t.

Vecna’s spy. A weapon against his will. 

“But were you seeing through the eyes of Vecna or of Derek?” Steve rubs his temple, trying desperately to keep up.

“Both.” Will clarifies. “I-I was Vecna, but inside of Derek’s mind.”

“And you’re absolutely sure that you didn’t ‘see’ Y/N in that hallucination of yours?” Steve questions, adamant he ensures that there isn’t a hint of a possibility of you being in danger. 

Will shakes his head. “All I saw was Derek.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You insist, eager to find an answer that involves your life on the line. “I was Vecna’s last target. It should be me he comes after next. Not Derek or Holly.”

“Vecna’s a psychic serial killer. Nothing he does makes sense.” Robin reminds you gently. “I mean, he stalks his victims by invading their minds. That’s what he did with Chrissy and Max and you–”

Then Robin seems to remember just how close she came to losing you, and her mouth snaps shut immediately. “Sorry.”

You shift away from the others, uncomfortable with the sudden mournful expressions on everyone’s face. Their pity only builds resentment within your chest.

Memories from last year haunt you. Sometimes you can still feel Vecna’s claws in your membrane, but that doesn’t mean it makes you any more willing to be mourned over. Not when it was Max who suffered the consequences that should’ve been yours. 

Steve’s hand falls to your thigh as he tries to comfort you, yet Nancy, sharp as a knife, doesn’t shy away from your past.

“Vecna stalked Holly before he took her.” She looks only at you. “Only he stalked her as Henry, befriended her, for weeks.”

Nancy clenches her fists, exhales slowly, before asking the question that she dreads the most. “Were there any signs before he attacked you?”

A phantom sensation of dandelions choking you constricts your breathing. The memory of them slices your tongue, tangles your airway, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the memory from drowning you. 

“The summer before Vecna attacked… I had a nightmare.” The words get stuck in the grooves of your teeth, forcing you to spit them out like a dirty confession. “I was in a field of dandelions before they suddenly swarmed around me and I was suffocating.”

The room stands still. Unable to look at anyone, you look down at your bloodied palms instead. “Then, when Vecna showed me and Nancy our visions, he told me I've become fragile… like a dandelion.”

You steady your breathing. You don’t know why this feels as if you’re confessing something terrible. Maybe you are. 

“That’s when I realized he’d been watching me for months.”

A cacophony of reactions overtakes the room. 

Steve nearly topples out of his seat due to how fast his body turns to yours, talking a mile a minute and demanding to know more about the nightmare. “Are you serious–”

But his worries get lost in Dustin’s stunned confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve used this information sooner!”

“Was there anything else in your dream?” Mike is quick to ask his own investigative questions, knocking his elbows into your side in his hurry to get closer to you. “I mean, anything useful besides stupid dandelions?”

The voices begin to overlap in a way that dizzies you. Seeing your discomfort, Nancy places a hand on her brother’s chest and pulls him away from you while simultaneously flicking Dustin’s hat. “Give her some space.”

Mike makes a face and Dustin grumbles under his breath, but without another word the boys go back to their seats. Thankful for the breathing room, you smile appreciatively at Nancy. “Thank you.”

She smiles back, soft, tired, before it falls into a broken frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to cast the attention onto you.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head. “I want to help however I can. If it means finding Holly and protecting Derek, then I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

“Do you… know why Vecna gave you evil dandelion nightmares?” Mike asks cautiously, unsure how much you’re willing to disclose.

“No,” you admit, regretful. You’re the only person alive who was marked by Vecna and the only source of information available. You despise how little you’re able to help. “I never understood why. All I can remember is that the field felt familiar, like I’d been there before. I…” You clear your throat and cast a nervous glance towards your brother. “I think he was showing me Virginia. Where I grew up.”

Dustin’s spine goes pin straight at the revelation, though he remains quiet. Mike, however, narrows his eyes. “Nancy and I think that Vecna was trying to earn Holly’s trust. That’s why he befriended her. Maybe he was trying to earn yours, too?”

A sarcastic laugh falls from your mouth. “Yeah, well if his long-term goal was forming a friendship, then giving me a nightmare where I suffocate in dandelions was a pretty shitty attempt.”

“Maybe he was shy?” Robin suggests with a wince.

Steve shakes his head in disappointment while you huff lightly. “Unlikely.”

“Well whatever Vecna’s plan is,” Will recenters the group, silencing the room once more. “We have to stop him, and we have to save Derek.”

And the rest is decided.

–

Will herds everyone downstairs and instructs you to stand in front of the projector. Within minutes he has a pointer aimed at the map of Hawkins as he explains his plan with a confidence that surprises you.

“The Turnbows live here.” Will points to a neighborhood on the map. “We wait in a van across the street.”

For as long as you’ve known Will, he has always been a follower rather than a leader. Now, as you watch him command the room, you’re confronted with just how much he’s grown, and it fills you with warm, pleasant pride. 

Then Will proposes kidnapping a child and you’re reminded all over again just how naive and insanely young he still is.

“As soon as they’re asleep, we move in, we grab Derek, and we take him to the McCorkle farm. It’s completely abandoned and isolated.”

“Oh absolutely not.” You gawk, baffled. “There’s no way I’m kidnapping another kid.”

Lucas’ eyes widen. “‘Another kid’?”

“Unfortunately Erica counts as the first.”

“We’ll be using a blindfold.” Will waves his pointer at you. “So technically it isn’t kidnapping if Derek never finds out who we are or where he is.”

“That’s literally the definition of kidnapping.”

“Better than Vecna kidnapping him.” Robin snaps her fingers. “I’d consider us a much better option.”

While she’s right, you still wholly dislike the plan. “Can’t we do something a little less… extreme?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees, looking over to his mom who has been silent the entire time. “Are you alright with just kidnapping a child?”

“Robin’s right. We’re saving a child via kidnapping. So it’s fine. I think.” Joyce shrugs, though she grimaces at her own words and quickly backtracks. “Alright. Now’s not the time to play it safe, Jonathan.”

You step forward, casting an apologetic look towards the woman. “With all due respect, Mrs. Byers, I think now is the exact time to be playing it safe. We’ve already lost El and Hopper and Holly. We can’t just blindly run into whatever Vecna has planned for us.”

Dustin nods. “I’m not morally opposed to the plan, but I agree with Y/N. There’s a few holes in it.”

“Like what if Derek falls asleep before the Demogorgon attacks him?” Lucas suggests.

“That’s one.” Your brother agrees. 

“Or what if Derek wakes up before we grab him and alerts his family? We’ll go to jail.” Nancy points out.

“And there’s another.” Dustin nods again. “But the third, most gaping hole is that even if by some miracle this plan even works: saving Derek won’t bring us any closer to finding Vecna and the others. It just buys us some time. That’s it.”

The atmosphere turns somber at the reminder of just how much none of you know. Without El and her powers, you’re practically helpless against Vecna and locating him. 

But just as the silence becomes deafening, Mike breaks it.

“Not necessarily,” he slowly looks up at the others. “There might be a way to save Derek and find Holly.”

In a heartbeat he stands up and rummages around the basement, mumbling under his breath with every passing second. No one interferes, either too confused or too worried it will only set the kid off more.

Then Mike lunges towards a small, blue bag and he lets out a small victorious cheer. “Yes! Okay, everyone around the table, now.”

Curious, you do as he says and watch as he dumps the bag out, revealing a multitude of old, worn D&D pieces. 

“This is Derek,” Mike holds up one of the pieces, silently instructing everyone to follow along. He sets the piece down and arranges the others into a circle. “And this is the rest of the Turnbow family. We’re gonna need to recruit someone that the family trusts and can gain access to the house.”

“And this person will do what? Ask the Turnbows not to call the cops?” You ask, uncertain of the plan. 

“No, the person is going to knock the family out so we can extract them from the house.”

Mike’s words cause you to sigh. “Right. Should’ve assumed that.”

“Knock them out?” Joyce’s concern reflects your own. 

“Safely,” Mike assures her. “With sleeping pills or something.”

“I might know where we could get some benzos.” Robin supplies. “Those things are like elephant tranquilizers.”

“How would you know?” Steve eyes her wearily.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “There are now multiple felonies included in this plan.”

Robin winks. “Only the two, pretty girl.”

“We’ll take the benzos.” Mike ignores your disdain. “That way, if Vecna spies, he’ll just assume that Derek is fast asleep in bed and he’ll send his Demos to grab him. Only he won’t find Derek. He’ll find us.”

“Wait a minute,” you place your hand in the middle of the table, blocking Mike from putting any more pieces down. “Who is ‘us’?”

“Everyone in this room.” He leans forward, eyes daring you to argue. “Me and the rest of the party included.”

You go to open your mouth to argue, but Dustin interrupts before you can start. “Save your breath, Y/N. You said yourself that we’re missing Hopper and El. Like it or not, we need all the help we can get.”

As much as you want to protest, you know that your brother is right. While you hate the idea of the kids staging an ambush against Vecna, you don’t have any other option. Biting your lip, you reluctantly remove your hand and nod to Mike to continue. 

He flashes you a sarcastic thumbs up and explains that Murray will be supplying the traps that’ll hopefully burn the demogorgon. Then he stuffs his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small device. “But not before we stick him with one of these.” 

The telemetry tag flashes red on the table. “We’ll track the Demo across the Upside Down in the Squawk van just like we did with Hopper, and if we’re lucky the bastard will lead us back to its lair.”

“Where Vecna will be with Holly. Two birds, one stone.” The pieces fall into place and you nod, impressed. “Clever as always, Wheeler.”

“Someone has to be.” 

And when no one voices any complaints or possible flaws within the plan, Mike smirks triumphantly and dismisses the group to prepare for what lies ahead. 

Lucas and Mike set off to the middle school to find Erica, who apparently used to be close friends with the Turnbow’s daughter. You find it ironic that it’s somehow Erica that the plan hinges on, given her history of forced compliance. 

Robin all but drags Will outside with her to secure the benzos needed, despite your many attempts to stop her. 

“Why the hell are you taking Will with you on your drug run?” You grab at her hand and try to use all your body weight to prevent the girl from getting into Joyce’s car, but Robin has somehow become shockingly strong and tugs you away. 

“Because little Byers won’t lecture me!” Robin pokes her tongue out at you and grabs the back of Will’s collar, shoving him into the passenger seat. “See ya, pretty girl.”

Will waves. “Bye!”

You stand in the driveway alongside Joyce, who has watched the whole ordeal as you all but pout, watching as the two drive away in a fit of laughter. Neither you nor Joyce have any idea when they became the best of friends, but you’re starting to hate their newfound friendship.

“Do I have to ask if your friend will keep Will safe?” Joyce nudges her shoulder against yours, breaking you from your moody disposition briefly. 

“Robin will keep him safe,” you reluctantly promise, though you’re a little weary of their relationship. “I just have no idea how she managed to find a stash of drugs in Hawkins.”

Joyce chuckles while Steve walks up behind you and kisses your temple. “I’m sure Robin will tell you all about it the next time she orchestrates a drug deal.”

“I’m never leaving her unsupervised ever again.”

Steve’s chest rumbles in amusement and you allow yourself a moment to sink against him and close your eyes. Your days are slowly blurring together, but here, in his arms, you’re able to breathe.

Sensing the desire to be alone, Joyce gently squeezes your upper arm and places a kiss to your shoulder. The act of affection soothes the open wounds left from the night before. Her presence will always soothe you.

“Anyway, I came out here to tell you that I’ve left a spare change of clothes inside the station.” She says delicately. Her eyes never stray from yours, though you know she struggles against herself not to look down and see the mess of blood that soaks your clothing. 

A piece of your ribcage softens. “How did you–?”

“Jonathan radioed while you were asleep.” Joyce squeezes your arm again, this time with a smile you can’t quite decipher. It appears small, timid, almost nostalgic, but before you can ask her anything else, she lets you go. “I’ll be inside if you need anything.”

And with that, Joyce leaves.

–

Mike hadn’t specified what exactly Murray would be smuggling over for the Turnbow house, but when the man opens his truck and unloads the supplies, for a moment you’re fearful he somehow intercepted a serial killer’s delivery. 

Murray hands Jonathan a hyper-realistic CPR dummy that makes you highly uncomfortable to look at and Nancy an armful of ammo before turning to you with a crazed smile on his face.

“And, for little miss unbearable, I present this,” he stretches out his arm and reveals a misshapen frog puppet. “Mike said it’d help ease your nerves. Unsure why, but I’ve learned not to question the kid.”

Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?

Jonathan does a poor job of hiding his laughter while Nancy bites back an amused smile. Both Steve and Dustin outright laugh at you. 

Glaring at them, you grab the frog and hold it awkwardly between your hands. “I really hate how funny Mike is sometimes.”

“He’s an odd duck.” Murray jumps down from the truck and walks over to a crate. He throws open its top and reveals a mass of wire. “Speaking of ducks, do take care to keep your precious frog away from the 3,000 feet of barbed wire.”

“That seems excessive. Even for Mike.”

Murray shrugs at you. “It’s what he asked for. Now, onto Bilbo Baggins,” the man hands Dustin a box. “Some sparkling new spark plugs.”

Dustin frowns. “Spark plugs? That’s it?”

By the tone of his voice you know that he’s unamused with the shortchange he’s been given. 

“I’m also giving out free hugs.” Murray smiles. 

Disgust marks your face. “Do not touch my brother.”

Murray bares his teeth at you while Dustin groans. “You didn’t get the turbocharger, either?”

“No.”

“The suspension kit?”

“No.”

Sensing that your brother will only run the man in circles, you leave him to deal with Murray and go follow after Steve. Mike heroically left him the job of clearing out the van in order to smuggle the Turnbows away. While he withheld his complaints, you know that Steve will enjoy the company as he wrestles with the vehicle and its contents.

You hear Steve before you see him,

“Lousy piece of shit!” A loud thump follows his exasperated groans, proceeded by a pained yelp when he inexplicably drops whatever heavy item he’d been carrying on his foot. “Fuck!”

Turning the corner, you find your boyfriend hunched over his knees amongst an endless sea of wires and leather seats gutted from the Squawk van. Sweat drips down his forehead and his flushed skin tells you he’s one stumble away from driving the van into Mike Wheeler’s house. 

“Need some help, honey?” You brace a hand on his back, steadying his disheveled body as you carefully step inside the vehicle, careful not to fall.

Steve grabs your wrist and kisses it, his overly warm skin cools at the sensation of yours. “Have I ever told you how much I hate Mike?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“I mean,” he kicks at a loose bolt, upending yet another seat from the van’s floor. “Why am I the one tasked with cleaning out this hunk of metal? Do we even need the entire bed of this thing, anyways? Can’t we just squish everything inside and call it a day?”

You snort. “You do realize that we’re throwing an entire family back here, right?”

“They’ll be too knocked out to care.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Steve chuckles and reaches for your waist. Once he has you where he wants you, he pulls your body down onto his and lands on the last remaining seat within the van. The old leather cracks beneath your bodies, but neither you nor Steve pay any attention to it.

Steve’s head buries itself into your chest and you feel him exhale slowly. Your fingers find his hair, entertaining themselves within the strands you’ve long since have claimed as your own, and he presses himself deeper into your touch. 

“Miss you,” he mumbles, hands roaming down to your thighs as he pulls them over his lap so that you’re seated flush against him. It’s been so long since Steve has had you this close.

And though he’s been at your beck and call ever since yesterday morning, you understand the ache that Steve feels in his longing for you. “I miss you, too.”

You haven’t been alone, truly alone, with Steve in nearly three days. Once, the absence would’ve gone unnoticed. It was you who insisted on spending an entire summer ignoring him and his stupid boyish charm. Now, with the knowledge of just how lovely it is to be Steve Harrington’s, you feel devoid of any pleasure whenever he’s gone.

Steve’s stomach presses against yours as he inhales deeply. Light, butterfly-soft kisses litter themselves along your collarbones. Your breathy laugh accompanies the tender admiration, which Steve smiles in response to as well. 

“I’m sorry about Dustin,” the apology falls between each kiss. “I know I can be a massive dick to him sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You look down at him with a teasing smile, though you both know you mean it. 

“More than I’d like to admit.” Steve relents, placing a kiss to the base of your throat. You hum at the sensation, and your satisfaction gives him the confidence to find the rest of his words. “I know I should be more patient with him, but I just… I hate the way he treats you.”

“It isn’t your responsibility to defend me. I don’t want you to defend me.” Your fingers dance over Steve’s, intertwining them together. “Not when I understand Dustin’s anger better than anyone else.”

“That still doesn’t make it fair to you, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh at this. “And when has anything in my life been fair?”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t find your words as funny as you do. 

But rather than continue to try and convince you of all you deserve, knowing it to be a useless endeavor, he instead accepts what he knows you can offer him. “How’re you holding up?”

Though he can’t bring himself to say Vecna’s name, you know that Steve’s question resides in how everyone’s eyes fell on you when you revealed he’d been watching you for a long time.

“I’m fine.” Neither you nor Steve can tell if you’re lying.

“You know that you can always step away, right?” His fingers grow restless in yours. The unease that follows his question makes you wonder just how long his worry has festered. “Let Mike and the others handle the Turnbows if you need the break. I mean, no one would blame you.”

Though you know he means well, you fervently shake your head at what Steve has said. “I promised Nancy I’d bring Holly back to her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Now Steve is the one who shifts uncomfortably. “Y/N, you just had to relive your worst nightmare in front of an entire group of people. You had Mrs. Wheeler’s blood all over you not even an hour ago. I-I can’t imagine what you must be feeling–”

“However I’m feeling doesn’t matter.” You cut off Steve’s concerned rambling. “Nancy and Mike lost their sister, Steve. Their parents are laying in hospital beds. Whatever I may be feeling, I can promise you that what they’re going through is even more painful, even more debilitating.”

You straighten your back and look down at the man beneath you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and despite the fact that you’re solidifying every fear that Steve has, he still gazes up at you as if you’ve given him the ocean and its waves. 

“I’m going to the Turnbow’s.”

Your tone remains definitive. There is no room for arguments or discontent. 

Bittersweet worry infiltrates Steve’s mouth. He understands that there isn’t any way he can change your mind or convince you to place yourself first. The bags underneath your eyes have only grown worse these last few days. He doesn’t think they will ever get better. 

And while Steve wants nothing more than to encase you into his chest and keep you away from everything that could ever hurt you, yourself included, Jonathan’s obnoxious voice leaks into his mind and reminds Steve that he can’t sideline you.

You’d never forgive him if he did. 

Exhaling the last of his doubts, Steve caresses your lower back and you watch his eyes soften. He will always love you and your selfish desire to be needed. You will always love him and his inability to resent you for it. 

Even if it means one day you’ll burn yourself up, leaving Steve to bury your ashes. 

“What are you guys doing?”

Dustin’s arrival forces you to pull away from your boyfriend. Stuffing your hands behind your back, feeling like a little kid caught, you clear your throat and face your brother. “We’re getting the van set up. Mike’s orders.”

“But why even bother?” Dustin kicks at one of the many discarded objects outside of the vehicle, which all lay haphazardly on the grass. “This van is a lost cause, anyways.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Take it won’t help us, then. Like usual.”

The throwaway comment causes you to stiffen while Dustin narrows his eyes. But rather than bite back at Steve’s bark, your brother surprises you.

“No, what I mean is that this piece of shit once stalled out chugging up Pickett Road.” Dustin clarifies, tone neutral. “It’s not fast enough to keep up with a Demo without serious modifications.”

“And this is us modifying.” Steve gestures between you and him before pointing towards the discarded pile. “A lighter van is a faster van.”

“We’ll also be attempting to fit an entire family inside,” you remind him. “But sure. I guess we’re making it faster, too.”

Steve nods. “And if we’re just tracking, we won’t need half the shit that’s in here. Speaking of, can you go to the front and empty out the window washer fluid?”

You tilt your head. “The… window washer fluid?”

“I’m sure emptying it will work wonders. Good job, Steven.” Dustin claps his hands, emphasizing his nasally and cruel words. 

“Dustin!” 

He ignores your warning. “No, truly. I’m stunned by Steve’s intellect. Who knew your boyfriend could think?”

You’re about to snatch Dustin’s hat off his head and show him exactly how little patience you have left, but Steve puts a hand in front of you, blocking him.

“You know what, Henderson? I think we should do what your sister suggested yesterday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dustin frowns, unused to Steve’s delay in the fight.

“It means we should both just shut up.” And with that, Steve shushes your brother and goes back to clearing out the van.

You’re so stunned by Steve’s uncharacteristic diplomacy that you don’t notice Dustin’s greedy eyes landing on a drill. He grabs it, investigates it with a terrifying smirk, before walking away with a pep in his step.

“Where the hell is he going with that?” Steve asks you, annoyance and slight fear tainting his voice. 

“I have no idea.” You quickly climb out of the van and follow after your brother. “Dustin, what are you–” 

Your words die in your throat when you realize he’s walking straight towards Steve’s car.

Nothing ever ends well when Dustin is given a power tool.

“Steve’s right, Y/N.” He climbs up onto the car’s roof and tilts his hat at you. “We don’t need half of the crap in there for our mission. In fact, the only thing we really need is a telemetry tracker, which I can affix to any vehicle.”

“You little shit!” Immediately understanding what Dustin intends, you lunge towards the car and attempt to climb it, but Steve’s hands force you down. “Let me go!”

He winces at how violently you thrash around, but his grip on you remains firm. While he’s worried about his car, he’s even more worried you’ll wind up getting hurt. “I really don’t want you accidentally impaling yourself with a power drill.”

You ignore his concern and flail your legs around, trying desperately to free yourself. “Dustin Henderson, put down your obnoxious ego so we can talk about this–”

“Thought you told me and Steve to shut up?” Your brother laughs like a deranged child at his own joke before bringing the tip of the power drill down to the roof.

Even Steve can’t keep his composure as Dustin switches the tool on, inches away from his beloved car. “Woah, hey! Don’t make me let your sister go!”

As if to emphasize his threat, you seethe at Dustin, “I’m going to kill you!” 

But Dustin knows that Steve would never, ever put you in a situation where you could potentially harm yourself, and it’s with this knowledge that he happily punctures the BMW with the drill. 

The unnecessary attack on the car you fell in love in only causes you to writhe in Steve’s grasp harder, almost animalistic as you shout threats and curses at your infuriating little brother.

“I’m telling mom you ruined Steve’s car!”

“Then I’m telling her you told me to shut up!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Where do you think I get it from?”

Soon both of your voices get drowned out as you and Dustin bicker back and forth with no end in sight. For a moment you’re just two little kids tattling on each other and throwing around harmless insults from when you were children. 

Steve would find it endearing if your screeching and the roar of the power drill weren’t seconds away from deafening him. 

So much for the Henderson charm. 

– 

Because Mike hates you, he shoves you, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy into Steve’s car before anyone can process what’s happening.

“Good luck,” he said with a smug smile. “You’ll all make a fantastic lookout squad.”

Mike then slammed the car door shut and ran away before Steve could run him over.

Which is how you find yourself stuck in between Jonathan and Nancy in the backseat of Steve’s now ruined car parked outside of the Turnbow house.

Somehow Dustin winds up in the passenger seat, which you resent him for.

The nighttime air is unusually warm, doing nothing to help abide the tension in the car as you all sit stiffly beside one another with too much unspoken history.

You twist your fingers together in your lap, unable to say anything as Dustin peers out the window with binoculars held up to his eyes to watch for Erica.

“She’s in,” he finally says into the walkie, alerting the others. 

“Thank god,” you exhale the breath you’d been holding. The sooner you’re out of the car, the better.

Jonathan shifts next to you, awkwardly adjusting himself so that he doesn’t press too deeply against your side. “It’s… a bit warm in here, don’t you think?”

Both you and Nancy turn to him, unsure which of you he’s talking to.

After an uncomfortably long pause, Jonathan seems to sense the confusion and clears his throat. “Nancy, why don’t we wait outside? Get some fresh air?”

Nancy frowns at the offer and looks at you, silently asking what she should do. All you can give her is a helpless shrug. “A walk sounds nice.”

This doesn’t seem to be the answer Nancy wants. Her frown deepens. “But what about keeping a lookout for Erica’s signal?”

“We’ll stay here,” you gesture towards Dustin and Steve. “We’ll get you guys when it’s time to go.”

Nancy bites her lip and considers this. Steve watches her hesitation through the rear mirror. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the bizarre shift between her and Jonathan.

“C’mon, Nance.” Jonathan reaches over you to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “Who knows how long until Erica knocks the Turnbows out?”

“Fine,” she finally gives in, unbuckling her seatbelt. “But we aren’t going far, alright?”

Jonathan nods, happy just to have gotten Nancy out of the car, and quickly the two of them close the doors behind them. 

Their departure eases the tension in the vehicle slightly, and you allow yourself a second to enjoy the small moment of peace. 

But Dustin and Steve waste no time ruining it.

“What the hell is going on between them?” Your brother asks the second Jonathan and Nancy leave.

You open your eyes and find both boys turned towards you with like two curious street cats. You’re immediately defensive, weary of their intentions. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Y/N.” Steve scoffs. “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that they’re clearly miserable.”

“They’re one awkward hug away from becoming depressing to look at.” Dustin adds. 

You stare at them both, stunned. While you can’t say that Jonathan and Nancy have been their normal selves recently, you’re surprised that even Dustin and Steve have caught on.

“I don’t really think now is the best time to be talking about this,” you hiss at them, nervous that the couple in question could be right outside the car listening. “This feels incredibly wrong and invasive–”

“So there’s definitely something wrong with them.” Dustin concludes from your uncomfortable reaction. 

Steve nods. “I bet it’s all Byers’ fault.”

“Duh.”

“And I bet Y/N knows more than she’s willing to let on.”

“Correct again, Harrington.”

Suddenly Dustin and Steve gang up against you like brothers, nosey and annoying, and watching them fall back into their easy connection that you’ve missed so much makes you helpless against their interrogations. 

You’ll do anything for one more minute of their friendship. 

“Fine,” nervously you look out the window, making sure neither Nancy nor Jonathan are close by. “I’ll admit that there’s… something wrong with them.”

“Aha!” Steve exclaims, pointing an excited finger at you. “I knew it!”

Mortified, you push his finger away. “Shhh!”

Dustin leans forward, eager for more. “Go on. We’re listening.”

You push your hair back, suddenly too warm. “Look, I really don’t know much more than you guys. All I can tell you is that Jonathan has been really weird lately and Nancy has been incredibly distant.”

“I still think Jonathan did something.”

You glare at Steve. “You’re ridiculous.”

He smirks, ready to tease you even more, but he’s cut off by Jonathan’s quick taps on the windshield to catch everyone’s attention. “Erica gave the signal. Let’s go.”

The bright mood in the car dims once again, and without saying another word the three of you exit the car and follow after the others into the Turnbow house.

–

Hiding the bodies is the easy part, as horrifying as that sounds. 

Joyce backs the van into the Turnbow’s garage while you help Robin wrap the family in sheets. Their sleeping bodies look too similar to corpses, making your stomach twist at the thought. 

“It concerns me how many felonies I’ve committed with minors.” You choke back a gag, wrapping Tina’s small body up.

Erica rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Y/N.”

Once you have every family member safely inside the van, you knock three times on the vehicle to signal to Joyce that she can now drive off. Once she’s gone, everyone immediately gets to work. 

Rearranging the house becomes a harder task than anticipated. It’s huge, filled to the brim with expensive items and large pieces of furniture with limited time to get rid of it all.

Everyone has a designated job as you all work in silence together. You stick with Steve, Dustin, and Mike and help them set a trap for the Demogorgon. As you hammer nails into a piece of plywood, a sickening sense of deja-vu overwhelms you. 

Years ago you were in the Byers’ home doing this very same thing, preparing to face a creature you didn’t yet have a name for and you were in way over your head. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. Back then you had been naive to the monsters that lay hidden beneath Hawkins. 

Now, as you help set a trap for a Demogorgon you’ve faced before, you still can’t help but feel that you’re biting off more than you can chew. That your naivety still haunts you. 

Once the trap has been laid, Dustin gathers everyone into the garage and hands out the necessary weapons. While none of you hope you’ll have to use them, you all recognize the reality of what may come. 

You choose to stick with your knives. They bring you comfort in a way no other weapon can. As you go upstairs and sit in a corner to sharpen the blades, a loud, metallic sound pierces your eardrums. 

“What the fuck?” You turn in your seat and find Steve wielding a large, far too dangerous chainsaw. 

“Like it?” He waves the chainsaw around as he laughs like a kid in a candy store. “Don’t I look badass?”

Mike visibly groans while you cover your ears and shout, “Turn that thing off!”

Steve obliges, though not without pouting. “Admit it, angel. I look hot carrying this.”

“Kill me.” Dustin and Jonathan gag. 

“I prefer men with all five fingers, Steve.”

Nancy snickers, holding her hand out for a high-five which you readily accept. Steve visibly deflates at your disapproval, but when Mike orders him to cut through the Turnbow’s living room floor with the chainsaw, he’s all too happy to help. 

“This is by far the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,” you stare down at the gaping hole in the floor, which leads directly into a nest of barbed wire. “And we’ve fought evil Russians before.”

“Just savor the moment, Y/N.” Dustin pats your back roughly. “We’re about to successfully trap a Demogorgon.”

–

Your feet tap nervously against the floor of Steve’s car, anxious as ever with your eyes glued to the skyline for any sign of danger. There are so many aspects of the plan that could go horribly wrong. 

Lucas could get hurt distracting the creature, or Mike could trip over his own two feet and fall into the barbed wire pit himself. 

The Demogorgon could completely run past the faux floor and not fall in, leaving you trapped in a house with it.

Or worse, Nancy could miss her only shot at the Demogorgon and fail to implant the telemetry tag, meaning all the work you put in and all the laws you broke would be for nothing.

“This is gonna work.” Dustin reassures the doubts that you don’t voice. 

You stare out the window. “It better work.” 

Holly and El are depending on the plan. 

Their lives are on the line and you’re helpless against the forces that separate you if something goes wrong tonight.

They’re just kids. 

Steve senses your worry and tries to get you to smile. “If this plan doesn’t work and I drilled a giant antenna into my car for nothing, I’m gonna kill Wheeler.”

Despite yourself, you manage a small laugh. “I think it adds character.”

“Hey.” Robin’s voice floats through the walkie. “Talk to me, guys. How’s it looking out there?”

You reach over for the device and respond. “It’s quite over here. How are the Turnbows holding up?”

“They’re still in their ‘food comas’, but I swear to god, this Demo better show up.” Robin huffs out. “If we took out an entire family for nothing, I don’t think my conscience will recover.”

“I’m really tired of committing felonies.”

Robin laughs at this. “Isn’t your boyfriend, like, super well connected with a ton of rich lawyers? I doubt Steve would ever let you anywhere near a jail cell. You’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Damn right.”

You ignore him and continue talking to Robin. Her ability to soothe you with her soft humor comforts you. “His uncle is a lawyer, actually.”

“Even better! Although I do hope that Steve isn’t related to some douchebag who defends rich criminals, even if white collar crime sounds like a Harrington thing to do.” Robin rambles on. “I do think in this case, however, the rich douchebags would be coming for us.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Technically, I think his uncle his legally required to take a few cases pro bono, so maybe he can help us–”

“Shh!” Dustin harshly shushes you, eyes glued to his binoculars.

Your body springs to attention, leaning forward so that you can get a better look at whatever the hell he’s spotted. You squint your eyes, straining to see something, until you finally find it.

The streetlamps are flickering. 

Your fingers find your knives, pressing the base of its handle into your palm. Adrenaline courses through your veins, it rips through your ribcage and sets every cell in your body on fire. 

It’s time.

“I fucking hate doing this.” You spit out, body bracing for an impact yet to come. 

Dustin ignores you while Steve grabs the walkie from your hand.

“I think we’ve got company. It’s going south down Arlington, T-minus thirty seconds.” He informs the others. “Status check. Taggers?” 

“In position and set.” Nancy confirms. “Launcher?” 

Lucas confirms as well. “Set. Catcher?”

“Set.” Mike’s voice crackles through the walkie. “Trackers?”

You, Dustin, and Steve all look at each other. Anticipation hangs in the air.

“Set.” Steve confirms. “Let’s do this thing already.”

The channel goes quiet as everyone prepares for what’s to come. 

One by one the streetlamps flicker to life, a trail of light that slowly ebbs its way to the Turnbow’s house until suddenly the house itself begins to flash wildly. Shadows dance across its porch and windows as the lights rapidly fade in and out.

“It’s inside.” Dustin reveals to Steve. “Minimize chatter.”

He quickly relays the information to the others inside the house. “It’s inside. No one talk.”

You get out of the car, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Your muscles pull taut, aching to be released. 

Will had been right. There’s no turning back now. 

Through the window you’re able to faintly see the outline of the Demogorgon creep inside of Derek’s room. It sniffs the air, head low as it hunts for the prey you know it won’t find. The minute it reaches the foot of Derek’s bed and claws at the decoy, you run. 

Someone has to be the one to ensure Lucas makes it to the living room in time, and you’ve spent all your life running. 

Within seconds you fling the front door open and shout as loud as you can, “Run!”

You hear Lucas attacking the Demogorgon upstairs with gasoline waterballoons. You anxiously wait for him, heart in your throat, and remain on high alert as the kid comes flying down the stairs, narrowly dodging the trip wire as the monster chases him.

Its pained screams tell you the trip wire has worked, and Lucas lands next to you with a loud thud and you quickly scan his body for any injuries. “Are you alright?”

“No time to talk,” he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the living room. “We need to go!”

Just as you start to run, the Demogorgon jumps over the stair’s railing and nearly crushes you both with its body. You scream, shoving Lucas behind you and stab at it with your knives all while Lucas narrowly manages to navigate the two of you to where Mike awaits. 

Then you’re flying through the air, jumping over the carpet that hides the trap beneath it, and somehow, miraculously, the Demogorgon falls into it just as you’ve landed on the couch across. 

Only its claws grip onto the wooden floor, scratching at the panels as it fights its way back up. Mike bludgeons the monster with a shovel in an attempt to get it to surrender to the inevitable. 

“Get him!” You shout alongside Lucas, hands braced on your knives in case you need to use them. 

With one last blow, Mike sends the Demogorgon down into the Turnbow’s basement where the barbed wires and Nancy and Jonathan await. It writhes in pain, stuck in the painful wire, and in its torture it doesn’t see the shotgun that Nancy aims at its defenseless body. 

The shot echoes within the house and embeds the tracker into its thick skin. The Demogorgon doesn’t have time to register its pain before Jonathan throws a lit flare at it, devouring the monster in flames. 

Just as you think the Demogorgon will finally succumb to its wounds, it thows its body back up towards you, Mike, and Lucas as it screeches in pain. The heat of its flame infested body sears your skin as Mike pushes you out of its way, attacking it with his shovel.

“Get him, Mike!” Lucas screams from the other side, unable to do anything else but watch. 

You lunge at the creature, slicing through its armoured skin as you try desperately to ignore the burning sensation that coats the whites of your knuckles. All you focus on is protecting Mike. Nothing else matters.

The Demogorgon unexpectedly throws its body towards Lucas, and you scream his name so loud that it tears through your vocal chords. He only just barely dodges the monster’s attack before a gate tears open in the wall and the Demogorgon slips inside, making its escape.

“It flipped! I repeat, it flipped!” Mike screams into his walkie before frantically turning to you. “Go follow it, now!”

You flee the house with Nancy and Jonathan right behind you. The three of you throw yourselves into the back of Steve’s car, long past the uncomfortable sensation of being so close together as adrenaline eats you alive. 

“Where is it?” Jonathan demands the second he slides into the seat.

Dustin waves his arm around. “Give me a second!”

Everyone shuts up as he carefully angles the antenna to catch any signal he can find. “Bearing northwest and fast.” Dustin tells Steve, signaling him to start driving.

Steve turns the key, but the engine sputters and groans. “C’mon, work with me here.”

“The Demogorgon is tagged and released.” Dustin clings onto the antenna, radioing everyone your every move. “Trackers in pursuit. Repeat, trackers in pursuit.” He gestures wildly at Steve, who still hasn’t gotten the car to start. “Hit it!”

Your body gets thrown against the seat as Steve accelerates down the road far faster than he should. One more law broken tonight.

“Signal is holding. Keep steady… Holding…” Dustin’s eyes never leave the decibel meter until he abruptly instructs, “Turn right!”

“Right?” Bewilderment covers Steve’s face. There isn’t any road to the right.

“Right! Turn right!” A crazed glint overtakes Dustin’s eyes. “Now!”

Not having any time to argue, Steve blindly jerks the steering wheel and barrels through several fences and mailboxes. The car jumps and lurches at every collision and you have to cling desperately onto Nancy and Jonathan to avoid flying through the windshield. 

“Sorry!” Steve shouts over and over with every bush and curb he hits.

Your stomach twists into painful knots as nausea overwhelms you.

You really didn’t miss the car chases. 

“We’re going to crash!” Jonathan wraps you in his arms, barely clinging onto his own seat as Steve hits yet another fence. “Jesus!”

“Dustin said turn right!” Steve screeches back, hitting his head against the roof after the car runs over something else. 

But Dustin ignores the pained screams and panic. Instead he studies the decibel meter and when the signal suddenly seems to weaken, he silences everyone in the car. “Shut up! Stop! We need to stop right here!”

Steve slams on the brakes and Nancy has to catch your body before you face plant into the center console. “Fuck!”

“Goddamn it, Henderson!” Steve hits the steering wheel in frustration. “What are we doing?”

“We lost the signal!” Dustin erratically steers the antenna in every possible direction.

Dread fills your lungs with every passing second. Have you gotten it all wrong? Did Vecna manage to win again? Will Holly’s blood stain your hands the way her mother’s did? The way Max’s stain still lingers?

“I got it!” Dustin’s voice breaks you from your terror. “It’s headed southeast now.”

“Southeast?” That’s the complete other way you were originally going. “Why would it go–”

You’re unable to finish your sentence before Steve propels the car into reverse, following the signal before it’s lost again. “Hang on!”

“But why would it turn around?” You lean forward as far as you dare, hands gripping the seat tightly as you force Dustin to look at you and reckon with the question that haunts you. “Where is it going?”

“I don’t know,” your brother confesses, risking looking away from the decibel meter to catch your eye. “I’m sorry, Y/N. But I don’t know where the hell this thing is going.”

None of it makes sense. “There’s nothing east except…”

Hawkins urban development predominately took over the west side of the city when it was first established. The west is where all the stores, houses, and schools are. 

But east of Hawkins has remained untouched, rural ever since your mother was a child. While the rest of the city grew and expanded, the east kept its trees and farmland.

Then it hits you like a truck. “The farm!”

The Demogorgon is leading you straight towards the McCorkle farm, where Will and others are. It was supposed to be a refuge for them. A place to hide the Turnbows. A place to be utterly defenseless. 

And now there’s a Demogorgon hunting for blood, running right towards them.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

Faint whispers trickle through your eardrums. They’re soft, quiet at the rounded vowels, and the hushed words almost go undetected. 

“Do we just let her sleep?”

“What other choice do we have?”

A third hushed voice breaks through your haze of sleep. “Or we could just wake her up, dipshits.”

“Real nice, Henderson.” 

“You asked for my input, so I gave it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be such an asshole about it.” 

Suddenly the voices rise in volume as Steve and Dustin break out into yet another exhausting argument. Faintly you register Jonathan’s soft voice pleading with them to be quiet, fearful of waking you up, but the fear has long since come to pass.

Your eyes open and your gaze lands on Steve and Dustin in the front seat, bodies facing away from each other in a tense standoff with Jonathan next to you, a worried hand on the base of your ankle as he anxiously endures the conversation. 

“Listen, if we don’t wake Y/N up then she’ll wring our asses.” Dustin says, rolling his eyes at Steve’s dismissive huff. 

“But this is the first time she’s slept in days,” the older boy reminds your brother. “Like hell am I waking her up. She needs the rest.”

The reminder of the events from the last forty-eight hours settles into your bones. Forcing yourself to sit up, ignoring every fiber of your body that begs to be laid to rest, you look out through the van’s window and realize you’re parked in front of the radio tower. 

Daylight surrounds itself around you. A deep, dull ache sits in your back. 

You must’ve slept the entire night on the van’s floor. 

“Unfortunately I’m already up.” 

All three boys whip their heads to look at you, staring down at you as if you’re some science experiment they haven’t quite figured out. 

Steve clears his throat sheepishly, now red. “Did we wake you?”

“Of course you woke her up.” Jonathan snaps, removing his hand from your ankle as if it has stung him. Although the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by either you or Steve, whose eyes narrow dangerously. 

He sucks in a breath, reeling for another fight, but you fling your hands out in annoyance and beckon towards the radio station. “I’d prefer if someone explained to me why we’re back here.”

Both Dustin and Jonathan turn to Steve expectantly, forming an unspoken alliance against him. Steve’s face pinches together as he waves his middle finger at them before turning to you. “Robin radioed us while you were asleep.”

Immediately you sit up properly. “What’d she say? Is everyone okay?”

“She’s with Will and Joyce,” Steve continues, fingers brushing over yours to quell the sting of your rapidly building hope. “But that’s all she told us before demanding that we meet here to discuss a new lead she has.”

While the information remains vague, it’s enough to snag at the remaining fragments of hope inside your chest as it expels the remnants of your exhaustion. Scrambling to your knees, you frantically crawl out of the van before anyone can stop you. 

Early morning birdsong greets you as your feet touch the grass. Time almost seems to stand still as you take in the rolling hills and green meadows before you. In the sunlight the red of Karen Wheeler’s blood on your clothing burns to brown and the kiss of the sun’s warmth masks the multitudes of grief that you can never seem to outrun. 

Yet in the distance Nancy’s car sends billows of smoke signals into the air and the minute she steps out of the vehicle her legs carry her to you. 

“Y/N.” Nancy’s small frame shudders against your chest as you hold her in your arms. Her eyes are as bloodshot as yours.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe into her neck, apologizing for the unfair hand she’s been dealt as you hold onto her so tightly that her skin becomes yours. “How is she–?”

You’re unable to utter Karen Wheeler’s name, though her daughter understands anyways. “She made it to the hospital. That’s all we know.”

You exhale at her words, your fingernails dig into her back and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Nancy so frail. A heavy hand falls on your lower back, accompanied by a gruff voice, “let me see her.”

If it were anyone else you’d bare your teeth and spit foul words, but for Jonathan Byers you lessen your grip on Nancy Wheeler and watch, silently, as she melts into his embrace. They come together like water, melting into one, and for a moment they’re just two kids in love. 

“You look like hell.” Mike steps out of the car and bypasses all formalities upon noticing you. Lucas stands next to him and both boys look about as well as you feel.

Though try as he might, Mike can’t hide his hurt from you. Traces of dread etch his face, and you’re pulling him into your arms before he can escape. “How’re you holding up?”

He stiffens at the unexpected embrace, but after everything he’s been through the last sixteen hours, he can’t bring himself to pull away. His chest rises slowly, exhales even slower as he says, “I-I don’t really know what I’m doing–holy shit.”

Suddenly Mike shoves you away and rushes towards your brother, eyes narrowed at the onslaught of bruises and blood that stain his face. 

“You look like hell, dude.” Mike lets out a low whistle, studying Dustin’s face.

“Bike crash.” The lie comes out of Dustin’s mouth with a practiced ease that makes you uncomfortable. 

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Flew headfirst into a light post.” 

You feel Steve bristle next to you. Everyone knows that Dustin is lying.

Sharp pain coats your mouth as you bite the inside of your cheek. There’s nothing you can say that would change anything. 

“Look, I’m sorry about missing the crawl, and about… Everything.” Dustin averts everyone’s gaze. The guilt eats him alive. You know how painful the sensation of its hunger can be. 

“It’s not your fault,” Mike’s quick reassurance to comfort his friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that you find hard to swallow. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Looks like he already did.” Lucas steps closer to your brother and grimaces at the injuries that scatter his face. 

He reaches to Dustin’s nose, as if about to grab it, before you slap him away like a mother scolding a child. “Please don’t make the injury worse.”

Lucas glares at you, immediately defensive. “I just wanted to see if it was broken!”

“By touching it?” Dustin takes several steps back, alarmed at the idea of Lucas prodding at his still sore nose. 

An argument starts to break out between the two boys, but it quickly comes to an end when Robin flings the radio station’s door open and gestures wildly for everyone’s attention.

“Hey, this isn’t a social call, guys.” Her tone borders on annoyance and the manic glint in her eyes tells you that she hasn’t had a pleasant night, either. “Let’s go!”

Slowly everyone settles back into the realization of where they are, of why they’re in the middle of an abandoned field running on exhaustion and paranoia. Mike is the first to follow Robin inside, followed by Lucas and Dustin, and eventually even Nancy manages to break herself out of her grief long enough to grab Jonathan’s hand and guide him inside. 

You’re left with Steve and a silence that presses into your ribcage. 

You’ve never known how to survive in the silence. 

But then Steve’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, uncaring of the torn clothing and bloodstains. He holds you to his chest, cradles your head so that you can hear every beat of his heart, and in his embrace you find a solace that not even silence can bring.

“I can feel you slipping away,” Steve whispers, arms tightening around you with every word. His steady breathing gets interrupted by a sharp inhale, as if bracing for impact, before he says, “It scares me.”

You stiffen in his embrace. The unwavering way that Steve has always managed to see right through you still sends shockwaves through your system. It isn’t fair. 

“I’m not trying to.” You wish there was more you could say to reassure him, but exhaustion has long clouded your mind and you’re not sure how to piece together the fragments that are left.

“I know you aren’t,” Steve’s thumb traces the crest of your cheek. His eyes shine down on you soft, familiar and warm, though through the years they’ve weathered with worry. “But I need you to stay, angel.”

You’ve become a border edge of the silhouette you once were. A ghost that inhabits an abandoned body. 

“Stay here in the present with me, alright?” Steve pinches your nose and smiles bashfully when it elicits a small laugh from you. “I can’t have you getting lost in the past or stuck in a future that nobody can control. No shutting down. I won’t allow it.”

And you? You’re here. You’re here, stuck in the present with me and the party.

Lucas’ words remain etched into your mind. You haven’t forgotten them, though you suppose you haven’t quite figured out how to remain present, given how tirelessly the past tries to drown you. 

“Are you done lecturing me now?” You brush Steve’s hand away and encase it within your own, tugging him along. “Because I’m not sure how much longer we have before Robin sends a search party after us.”

But Steve doesn’t move. Instead, he remains in place and stands before you, arm extended with your hands still intertwined. His boyish face changes for a moment, flickers into something more real, more serious. “We have all the time in the world, Y/N.”

Time has always been a dangerous promise to keep, yet somehow its liminality morphs into something finite as it falls from Steve’s lips as he pulls you in.

He spins you around, holds you close to his chest as you dance together for only a brief second, before he seals his promise with a kiss that not even time itself could ever take away from you. 

– 

A distinct sense of horror freezes over your body when Robin reveals why she brought everyone to the radio station. 

Vecna has a new target. A little boy, not much older than Will had been. 

You’ve been here before.

“Derek? As in, Derek Turnbow?” Steve’s voice carries your own disbelief as he sits next to you on the couch, weight pressed to your side as a way to ground your ever growing nerves. “From the Turnbow Realty family?”

“The one and only.” Robin affirms, body hunched over in her own exhaustion. 

Your eyes close and the sensation of your nails digging into your palms provides enough of a sting to abate the panic swelling in your chest. 

“The whole family’s a menace.” Lucas says unhelpfully.

You bite back your disdain for the comment, knowing that Lucas doesn’t mean any harm. You understand why he said it, having spent a rather awful night babysitting Derek for a few hours when you were fourteen. He had been nothing but cruel, obnoxious, and vindictive. Ultimately you declined Mrs. Turnbow when she asked if you’d be willing to babysit him in the future.

Yet despite how terrible Derek Turnbow may be, he’s still just a kid. 

And you’re still marked. Vecna’s curse. It still resides in your bloodstream.

You’ll do anything to remain his sole victim. 

“How do you know it’s Derek who’s next?” You’re careful to keep your voice level, calm. The less emotion you show, the better. “I mean, as far as we know, I’m still marked. Who’s to say it isn’t me that Vecna’s looking for?”

Steve inhales sharply and Dustin drops his head to his hands. You refuse to look at them, instead choosing to aim your gaze at Robin.

Only it’s Will who answers.

“Because I saw Derek,” he says softly, almost regretful. “Not you, Y/N.”

His words confuse you. “I don’t think I understand what that means.”

“I’ve learned that when I’m close enough to the hive mind, I can tap into it. I can tap into Vecna’s mind.” Will explains, eyes regretful as he delivers the news he knows will upset you. “I can see who he’s targeting.”

Your stomach twists painfully as a new wave of horror washes over you. Will was once called a spy and declared a traitor who was forcibly locked away in a cabin in the woods in an attempt to expel the monsters inside of him. 

Now, years later, Will has become the very thing you promised him he wouldn’t.

Vecna’s spy. A weapon against his will. 

“But were you seeing through the eyes of Vecna or of Derek?” Steve rubs his temple, trying desperately to keep up.

“Both.” Will clarifies. “I-I was Vecna, but inside of Derek’s mind.”

“And you’re absolutely sure that you didn’t ‘see’ Y/N in that hallucination of yours?” Steve questions, adamant he ensures that there isn’t a hint of a possibility of you being in danger. 

Will shakes his head. “All I saw was Derek.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You insist, eager to find an answer that involves your life on the line. “I was Vecna’s last target. It should be me he comes after next. Not Derek or Holly.”

“Vecna’s a psychic serial killer. Nothing he does makes sense.” Robin reminds you gently. “I mean, he stalks his victims by invading their minds. That’s what he did with Chrissy and Max and you–”

Then Robin seems to remember just how close she came to losing you, and her mouth snaps shut immediately. “Sorry.”

You shift away from the others, uncomfortable with the sudden mournful expressions on everyone’s face. Their pity only builds resentment within your chest.

Memories from last year haunt you. Sometimes you can still feel Vecna’s claws in your membrane, but that doesn’t mean it makes you any more willing to be mourned over. Not when it was Max who suffered the consequences that should’ve been yours. 

Steve’s hand falls to your thigh as he tries to comfort you, yet Nancy, sharp as a knife, doesn’t shy away from your past.

“Vecna stalked Holly before he took her.” She looks only at you. “Only he stalked her as Henry, befriended her, for weeks.”

Nancy clenches her fists, exhales slowly, before asking the question that she dreads the most. “Were there any signs before he attacked you?”

A phantom sensation of dandelions choking you constricts your breathing. The memory of them slices your tongue, tangles your airway, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the memory from drowning you. 

“The summer before Vecna attacked… I had a nightmare.” The words get stuck in the grooves of your teeth, forcing you to spit them out like a dirty confession. “I was in a field of dandelions before they suddenly swarmed around me and I was suffocating.”

The room stands still. Unable to look at anyone, you look down at your bloodied palms instead. “Then, when Vecna showed me and Nancy our visions, he told me I've become fragile… like a dandelion.”

You steady your breathing. You don’t know why this feels as if you’re confessing something terrible. Maybe you are. 

“That’s when I realized he’d been watching me for months.”

A cacophony of reactions overtakes the room. 

Steve nearly topples out of his seat due to how fast his body turns to yours, talking a mile a minute and demanding to know more about the nightmare. “Are you serious–”

But his worries get lost in Dustin’s stunned confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve used this information sooner!”

“Was there anything else in your dream?” Mike is quick to ask his own investigative questions, knocking his elbows into your side in his hurry to get closer to you. “I mean, anything useful besides stupid dandelions?”

The voices begin to overlap in a way that dizzies you. Seeing your discomfort, Nancy places a hand on her brother’s chest and pulls him away from you while simultaneously flicking Dustin’s hat. “Give her some space.”

Mike makes a face and Dustin grumbles under his breath, but without another word the boys go back to their seats. Thankful for the breathing room, you smile appreciatively at Nancy. “Thank you.”

She smiles back, soft, tired, before it falls into a broken frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to cast the attention onto you.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head. “I want to help however I can. If it means finding Holly and protecting Derek, then I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

“Do you… know why Vecna gave you evil dandelion nightmares?” Mike asks cautiously, unsure how much you’re willing to disclose.

“No,” you admit, regretful. You’re the only person alive who was marked by Vecna and the only source of information available. You despise how little you’re able to help. “I never understood why. All I can remember is that the field felt familiar, like I’d been there before. I…” You clear your throat and cast a nervous glance towards your brother. “I think he was showing me Virginia. Where I grew up.”

Dustin’s spine goes pin straight at the revelation, though he remains quiet. Mike, however, narrows his eyes. “Nancy and I think that Vecna was trying to earn Holly’s trust. That’s why he befriended her. Maybe he was trying to earn yours, too?”

A sarcastic laugh falls from your mouth. “Yeah, well if his long-term goal was forming a friendship, then giving me a nightmare where I suffocate in dandelions was a pretty shitty attempt.”

“Maybe he was shy?” Robin suggests with a wince.

Steve shakes his head in disappointment while you huff lightly. “Unlikely.”

“Well whatever Vecna’s plan is,” Will recenters the group, silencing the room once more. “We have to stop him, and we have to save Derek.”

And the rest is decided.

–

Will herds everyone downstairs and instructs you to stand in front of the projector. Within minutes he has a pointer aimed at the map of Hawkins as he explains his plan with a confidence that surprises you.

“The Turnbows live here.” Will points to a neighborhood on the map. “We wait in a van across the street.”

For as long as you’ve known Will, he has always been a follower rather than a leader. Now, as you watch him command the room, you’re confronted with just how much he’s grown, and it fills you with warm, pleasant pride. 

Then Will proposes kidnapping a child and you’re reminded all over again just how naive and insanely young he still is.

“As soon as they’re asleep, we move in, we grab Derek, and we take him to the McCorkle farm. It’s completely abandoned and isolated.”

“Oh absolutely not.” You gawk, baffled. “There’s no way I’m kidnapping another kid.”

Lucas’ eyes widen. “‘Another kid’?”

“Unfortunately Erica counts as the first.”

“We’ll be using a blindfold.” Will waves his pointer at you. “So technically it isn’t kidnapping if Derek never finds out who we are or where he is.”

“That’s literally the definition of kidnapping.”

“Better than Vecna kidnapping him.” Robin snaps her fingers. “I’d consider us a much better option.”

While she’s right, you still wholly dislike the plan. “Can’t we do something a little less… extreme?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees, looking over to his mom who has been silent the entire time. “Are you alright with just kidnapping a child?”

“Robin’s right. We’re saving a child via kidnapping. So it’s fine. I think.” Joyce shrugs, though she grimaces at her own words and quickly backtracks. “Alright. Now’s not the time to play it safe, Jonathan.”

You step forward, casting an apologetic look towards the woman. “With all due respect, Mrs. Byers, I think now is the exact time to be playing it safe. We’ve already lost El and Hopper and Holly. We can’t just blindly run into whatever Vecna has planned for us.”

Dustin nods. “I’m not morally opposed to the plan, but I agree with Y/N. There’s a few holes in it.”

“Like what if Derek falls asleep before the Demogorgon attacks him?” Lucas suggests.

“That’s one.” Your brother agrees. 

“Or what if Derek wakes up before we grab him and alerts his family? We’ll go to jail.” Nancy points out.

“And there’s another.” Dustin nods again. “But the third, most gaping hole is that even if by some miracle this plan even works: saving Derek won’t bring us any closer to finding Vecna and the others. It just buys us some time. That’s it.”

The atmosphere turns somber at the reminder of just how much none of you know. Without El and her powers, you’re practically helpless against Vecna and locating him. 

But just as the silence becomes deafening, Mike breaks it.

“Not necessarily,” he slowly looks up at the others. “There might be a way to save Derek and find Holly.”

In a heartbeat he stands up and rummages around the basement, mumbling under his breath with every passing second. No one interferes, either too confused or too worried it will only set the kid off more.

Then Mike lunges towards a small, blue bag and he lets out a small victorious cheer. “Yes! Okay, everyone around the table, now.”

Curious, you do as he says and watch as he dumps the bag out, revealing a multitude of old, worn D&D pieces. 

“This is Derek,” Mike holds up one of the pieces, silently instructing everyone to follow along. He sets the piece down and arranges the others into a circle. “And this is the rest of the Turnbow family. We’re gonna need to recruit someone that the family trusts and can gain access to the house.”

“And this person will do what? Ask the Turnbows not to call the cops?” You ask, uncertain of the plan. 

“No, the person is going to knock the family out so we can extract them from the house.”

Mike’s words cause you to sigh. “Right. Should’ve assumed that.”

“Knock them out?” Joyce’s concern reflects your own. 

“Safely,” Mike assures her. “With sleeping pills or something.”

“I might know where we could get some benzos.” Robin supplies. “Those things are like elephant tranquilizers.”

“How would you know?” Steve eyes her wearily.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “There are now multiple felonies included in this plan.”

Robin winks. “Only the two, pretty girl.”

“We’ll take the benzos.” Mike ignores your disdain. “That way, if Vecna spies, he’ll just assume that Derek is fast asleep in bed and he’ll send his Demos to grab him. Only he won’t find Derek. He’ll find us.”

“Wait a minute,” you place your hand in the middle of the table, blocking Mike from putting any more pieces down. “Who is ‘us’?”

“Everyone in this room.” He leans forward, eyes daring you to argue. “Me and the rest of the party included.”

You go to open your mouth to argue, but Dustin interrupts before you can start. “Save your breath, Y/N. You said yourself that we’re missing Hopper and El. Like it or not, we need all the help we can get.”

As much as you want to protest, you know that your brother is right. While you hate the idea of the kids staging an ambush against Vecna, you don’t have any other option. Biting your lip, you reluctantly remove your hand and nod to Mike to continue. 

He flashes you a sarcastic thumbs up and explains that Murray will be supplying the traps that’ll hopefully burn the demogorgon. Then he stuffs his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small device. “But not before we stick him with one of these.” 

The telemetry tag flashes red on the table. “We’ll track the Demo across the Upside Down in the Squawk van just like we did with Hopper, and if we’re lucky the bastard will lead us back to its lair.”

“Where Vecna will be with Holly. Two birds, one stone.” The pieces fall into place and you nod, impressed. “Clever as always, Wheeler.”

“Someone has to be.” 

And when no one voices any complaints or possible flaws within the plan, Mike smirks triumphantly and dismisses the group to prepare for what lies ahead. 

Lucas and Mike set off to the middle school to find Erica, who apparently used to be close friends with the Turnbow’s daughter. You find it ironic that it’s somehow Erica that the plan hinges on, given her history of forced compliance. 

Robin all but drags Will outside with her to secure the benzos needed, despite your many attempts to stop her. 

“Why the hell are you taking Will with you on your drug run?” You grab at her hand and try to use all your body weight to prevent the girl from getting into Joyce’s car, but Robin has somehow become shockingly strong and tugs you away. 

“Because little Byers won’t lecture me!” Robin pokes her tongue out at you and grabs the back of Will’s collar, shoving him into the passenger seat. “See ya, pretty girl.”

Will waves. “Bye!”

You stand in the driveway alongside Joyce, who has watched the whole ordeal as you all but pout, watching as the two drive away in a fit of laughter. Neither you nor Joyce have any idea when they became the best of friends, but you’re starting to hate their newfound friendship.

“Do I have to ask if your friend will keep Will safe?” Joyce nudges her shoulder against yours, breaking you from your moody disposition briefly. 

“Robin will keep him safe,” you reluctantly promise, though you’re a little weary of their relationship. “I just have no idea how she managed to find a stash of drugs in Hawkins.”

Joyce chuckles while Steve walks up behind you and kisses your temple. “I’m sure Robin will tell you all about it the next time she orchestrates a drug deal.”

“I’m never leaving her unsupervised ever again.”

Steve’s chest rumbles in amusement and you allow yourself a moment to sink against him and close your eyes. Your days are slowly blurring together, but here, in his arms, you’re able to breathe.

Sensing the desire to be alone, Joyce gently squeezes your upper arm and places a kiss to your shoulder. The act of affection soothes the open wounds left from the night before. Her presence will always soothe you.

“Anyway, I came out here to tell you that I’ve left a spare change of clothes inside the station.” She says delicately. Her eyes never stray from yours, though you know she struggles against herself not to look down and see the mess of blood that soaks your clothing. 

A piece of your ribcage softens. “How did you–?”

“Jonathan radioed while you were asleep.” Joyce squeezes your arm again, this time with a smile you can’t quite decipher. It appears small, timid, almost nostalgic, but before you can ask her anything else, she lets you go. “I’ll be inside if you need anything.”

And with that, Joyce leaves.

–

Mike hadn’t specified what exactly Murray would be smuggling over for the Turnbow house, but when the man opens his truck and unloads the supplies, for a moment you’re fearful he somehow intercepted a serial killer’s delivery. 

Murray hands Jonathan a hyper-realistic CPR dummy that makes you highly uncomfortable to look at and Nancy an armful of ammo before turning to you with a crazed smile on his face.

“And, for little miss unbearable, I present this,” he stretches out his arm and reveals a misshapen frog puppet. “Mike said it’d help ease your nerves. Unsure why, but I’ve learned not to question the kid.”

Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?

Jonathan does a poor job of hiding his laughter while Nancy bites back an amused smile. Both Steve and Dustin outright laugh at you. 

Glaring at them, you grab the frog and hold it awkwardly between your hands. “I really hate how funny Mike is sometimes.”

“He’s an odd duck.” Murray jumps down from the truck and walks over to a crate. He throws open its top and reveals a mass of wire. “Speaking of ducks, do take care to keep your precious frog away from the 3,000 feet of barbed wire.”

“That seems excessive. Even for Mike.”

Murray shrugs at you. “It’s what he asked for. Now, onto Bilbo Baggins,” the man hands Dustin a box. “Some sparkling new spark plugs.”

Dustin frowns. “Spark plugs? That’s it?”

By the tone of his voice you know that he’s unamused with the shortchange he’s been given. 

“I’m also giving out free hugs.” Murray smiles. 

Disgust marks your face. “Do not touch my brother.”

Murray bares his teeth at you while Dustin groans. “You didn’t get the turbocharger, either?”

“No.”

“The suspension kit?”

“No.”

Sensing that your brother will only run the man in circles, you leave him to deal with Murray and go follow after Steve. Mike heroically left him the job of clearing out the van in order to smuggle the Turnbows away. While he withheld his complaints, you know that Steve will enjoy the company as he wrestles with the vehicle and its contents.

You hear Steve before you see him,

“Lousy piece of shit!” A loud thump follows his exasperated groans, proceeded by a pained yelp when he inexplicably drops whatever heavy item he’d been carrying on his foot. “Fuck!”

Turning the corner, you find your boyfriend hunched over his knees amongst an endless sea of wires and leather seats gutted from the Squawk van. Sweat drips down his forehead and his flushed skin tells you he’s one stumble away from driving the van into Mike Wheeler’s house. 

“Need some help, honey?” You brace a hand on his back, steadying his disheveled body as you carefully step inside the vehicle, careful not to fall.

Steve grabs your wrist and kisses it, his overly warm skin cools at the sensation of yours. “Have I ever told you how much I hate Mike?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“I mean,” he kicks at a loose bolt, upending yet another seat from the van’s floor. “Why am I the one tasked with cleaning out this hunk of metal? Do we even need the entire bed of this thing, anyways? Can’t we just squish everything inside and call it a day?”

You snort. “You do realize that we’re throwing an entire family back here, right?”

“They’ll be too knocked out to care.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Steve chuckles and reaches for your waist. Once he has you where he wants you, he pulls your body down onto his and lands on the last remaining seat within the van. The old leather cracks beneath your bodies, but neither you nor Steve pay any attention to it.

Steve’s head buries itself into your chest and you feel him exhale slowly. Your fingers find his hair, entertaining themselves within the strands you’ve long since have claimed as your own, and he presses himself deeper into your touch. 

“Miss you,” he mumbles, hands roaming down to your thighs as he pulls them over his lap so that you’re seated flush against him. It’s been so long since Steve has had you this close.

And though he’s been at your beck and call ever since yesterday morning, you understand the ache that Steve feels in his longing for you. “I miss you, too.”

You haven’t been alone, truly alone, with Steve in nearly three days. Once, the absence would’ve gone unnoticed. It was you who insisted on spending an entire summer ignoring him and his stupid boyish charm. Now, with the knowledge of just how lovely it is to be Steve Harrington’s, you feel devoid of any pleasure whenever he’s gone.

Steve’s stomach presses against yours as he inhales deeply. Light, butterfly-soft kisses litter themselves along your collarbones. Your breathy laugh accompanies the tender admiration, which Steve smiles in response to as well. 

“I’m sorry about Dustin,” the apology falls between each kiss. “I know I can be a massive dick to him sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You look down at him with a teasing smile, though you both know you mean it. 

“More than I’d like to admit.” Steve relents, placing a kiss to the base of your throat. You hum at the sensation, and your satisfaction gives him the confidence to find the rest of his words. “I know I should be more patient with him, but I just… I hate the way he treats you.”

“It isn’t your responsibility to defend me. I don’t want you to defend me.” Your fingers dance over Steve’s, intertwining them together. “Not when I understand Dustin’s anger better than anyone else.”

“That still doesn’t make it fair to you, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh at this. “And when has anything in my life been fair?”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t find your words as funny as you do. 

But rather than continue to try and convince you of all you deserve, knowing it to be a useless endeavor, he instead accepts what he knows you can offer him. “How’re you holding up?”

Though he can’t bring himself to say Vecna’s name, you know that Steve’s question resides in how everyone’s eyes fell on you when you revealed he’d been watching you for a long time.

“I’m fine.” Neither you nor Steve can tell if you’re lying.

“You know that you can always step away, right?” His fingers grow restless in yours. The unease that follows his question makes you wonder just how long his worry has festered. “Let Mike and the others handle the Turnbows if you need the break. I mean, no one would blame you.”

Though you know he means well, you fervently shake your head at what Steve has said. “I promised Nancy I’d bring Holly back to her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Now Steve is the one who shifts uncomfortably. “Y/N, you just had to relive your worst nightmare in front of an entire group of people. You had Mrs. Wheeler’s blood all over you not even an hour ago. I-I can’t imagine what you must be feeling–”

“However I’m feeling doesn’t matter.” You cut off Steve’s concerned rambling. “Nancy and Mike lost their sister, Steve. Their parents are laying in hospital beds. Whatever I may be feeling, I can promise you that what they’re going through is even more painful, even more debilitating.”

You straighten your back and look down at the man beneath you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and despite the fact that you’re solidifying every fear that Steve has, he still gazes up at you as if you’ve given him the ocean and its waves. 

“I’m going to the Turnbow’s.”

Your tone remains definitive. There is no room for arguments or discontent. 

Bittersweet worry infiltrates Steve’s mouth. He understands that there isn’t any way he can change your mind or convince you to place yourself first. The bags underneath your eyes have only grown worse these last few days. He doesn’t think they will ever get better. 

And while Steve wants nothing more than to encase you into his chest and keep you away from everything that could ever hurt you, yourself included, Jonathan’s obnoxious voice leaks into his mind and reminds Steve that he can’t sideline you.

You’d never forgive him if he did. 

Exhaling the last of his doubts, Steve caresses your lower back and you watch his eyes soften. He will always love you and your selfish desire to be needed. You will always love him and his inability to resent you for it. 

Even if it means one day you’ll burn yourself up, leaving Steve to bury your ashes. 

“What are you guys doing?”

Dustin’s arrival forces you to pull away from your boyfriend. Stuffing your hands behind your back, feeling like a little kid caught, you clear your throat and face your brother. “We’re getting the van set up. Mike’s orders.”

“But why even bother?” Dustin kicks at one of the many discarded objects outside of the vehicle, which all lay haphazardly on the grass. “This van is a lost cause, anyways.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Take it won’t help us, then. Like usual.”

The throwaway comment causes you to stiffen while Dustin narrows his eyes. But rather than bite back at Steve’s bark, your brother surprises you.

“No, what I mean is that this piece of shit once stalled out chugging up Pickett Road.” Dustin clarifies, tone neutral. “It’s not fast enough to keep up with a Demo without serious modifications.”

“And this is us modifying.” Steve gestures between you and him before pointing towards the discarded pile. “A lighter van is a faster van.”

“We’ll also be attempting to fit an entire family inside,” you remind him. “But sure. I guess we’re making it faster, too.”

Steve nods. “And if we’re just tracking, we won’t need half the shit that’s in here. Speaking of, can you go to the front and empty out the window washer fluid?”

You tilt your head. “The… window washer fluid?”

“I’m sure emptying it will work wonders. Good job, Steven.” Dustin claps his hands, emphasizing his nasally and cruel words. 

“Dustin!” 

He ignores your warning. “No, truly. I’m stunned by Steve’s intellect. Who knew your boyfriend could think?”

You’re about to snatch Dustin’s hat off his head and show him exactly how little patience you have left, but Steve puts a hand in front of you, blocking him.

“You know what, Henderson? I think we should do what your sister suggested yesterday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dustin frowns, unused to Steve’s delay in the fight.

“It means we should both just shut up.” And with that, Steve shushes your brother and goes back to clearing out the van.

You’re so stunned by Steve’s uncharacteristic diplomacy that you don’t notice Dustin’s greedy eyes landing on a drill. He grabs it, investigates it with a terrifying smirk, before walking away with a pep in his step.

“Where the hell is he going with that?” Steve asks you, annoyance and slight fear tainting his voice. 

“I have no idea.” You quickly climb out of the van and follow after your brother. “Dustin, what are you–” 

Your words die in your throat when you realize he’s walking straight towards Steve’s car.

Nothing ever ends well when Dustin is given a power tool.

“Steve’s right, Y/N.” He climbs up onto the car’s roof and tilts his hat at you. “We don’t need half of the crap in there for our mission. In fact, the only thing we really need is a telemetry tracker, which I can affix to any vehicle.”

“You little shit!” Immediately understanding what Dustin intends, you lunge towards the car and attempt to climb it, but Steve’s hands force you down. “Let me go!”

He winces at how violently you thrash around, but his grip on you remains firm. While he’s worried about his car, he’s even more worried you’ll wind up getting hurt. “I really don’t want you accidentally impaling yourself with a power drill.”

You ignore his concern and flail your legs around, trying desperately to free yourself. “Dustin Henderson, put down your obnoxious ego so we can talk about this–”

“Thought you told me and Steve to shut up?” Your brother laughs like a deranged child at his own joke before bringing the tip of the power drill down to the roof.

Even Steve can’t keep his composure as Dustin switches the tool on, inches away from his beloved car. “Woah, hey! Don’t make me let your sister go!”

As if to emphasize his threat, you seethe at Dustin, “I’m going to kill you!” 

But Dustin knows that Steve would never, ever put you in a situation where you could potentially harm yourself, and it’s with this knowledge that he happily punctures the BMW with the drill. 

The unnecessary attack on the car you fell in love in only causes you to writhe in Steve’s grasp harder, almost animalistic as you shout threats and curses at your infuriating little brother.

“I’m telling mom you ruined Steve’s car!”

“Then I’m telling her you told me to shut up!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Where do you think I get it from?”

Soon both of your voices get drowned out as you and Dustin bicker back and forth with no end in sight. For a moment you’re just two little kids tattling on each other and throwing around harmless insults from when you were children. 

Steve would find it endearing if your screeching and the roar of the power drill weren’t seconds away from deafening him. 

So much for the Henderson charm. 

– 

Because Mike hates you, he shoves you, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy into Steve’s car before anyone can process what’s happening.

“Good luck,” he said with a smug smile. “You’ll all make a fantastic lookout squad.”

Mike then slammed the car door shut and ran away before Steve could run him over.

Which is how you find yourself stuck in between Jonathan and Nancy in the backseat of Steve’s now ruined car parked outside of the Turnbow house.

Somehow Dustin winds up in the passenger seat, which you resent him for.

The nighttime air is unusually warm, doing nothing to help abide the tension in the car as you all sit stiffly beside one another with too much unspoken history.

You twist your fingers together in your lap, unable to say anything as Dustin peers out the window with binoculars held up to his eyes to watch for Erica.

“She’s in,” he finally says into the walkie, alerting the others. 

“Thank god,” you exhale the breath you’d been holding. The sooner you’re out of the car, the better.

Jonathan shifts next to you, awkwardly adjusting himself so that he doesn’t press too deeply against your side. “It’s… a bit warm in here, don’t you think?”

Both you and Nancy turn to him, unsure which of you he’s talking to.

After an uncomfortably long pause, Jonathan seems to sense the confusion and clears his throat. “Nancy, why don’t we wait outside? Get some fresh air?”

Nancy frowns at the offer and looks at you, silently asking what she should do. All you can give her is a helpless shrug. “A walk sounds nice.”

This doesn’t seem to be the answer Nancy wants. Her frown deepens. “But what about keeping a lookout for Erica’s signal?”

“We’ll stay here,” you gesture towards Dustin and Steve. “We’ll get you guys when it’s time to go.”

Nancy bites her lip and considers this. Steve watches her hesitation through the rear mirror. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the bizarre shift between her and Jonathan.

“C’mon, Nance.” Jonathan reaches over you to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “Who knows how long until Erica knocks the Turnbows out?”

“Fine,” she finally gives in, unbuckling her seatbelt. “But we aren’t going far, alright?”

Jonathan nods, happy just to have gotten Nancy out of the car, and quickly the two of them close the doors behind them. 

Their departure eases the tension in the vehicle slightly, and you allow yourself a second to enjoy the small moment of peace. 

But Dustin and Steve waste no time ruining it.

“What the hell is going on between them?” Your brother asks the second Jonathan and Nancy leave.

You open your eyes and find both boys turned towards you with like two curious street cats. You’re immediately defensive, weary of their intentions. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Y/N.” Steve scoffs. “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that they’re clearly miserable.”

“They’re one awkward hug away from becoming depressing to look at.” Dustin adds. 

You stare at them both, stunned. While you can’t say that Jonathan and Nancy have been their normal selves recently, you’re surprised that even Dustin and Steve have caught on.

“I don’t really think now is the best time to be talking about this,” you hiss at them, nervous that the couple in question could be right outside the car listening. “This feels incredibly wrong and invasive–”

“So there’s definitely something wrong with them.” Dustin concludes from your uncomfortable reaction. 

Steve nods. “I bet it’s all Byers’ fault.”

“Duh.”

“And I bet Y/N knows more than she’s willing to let on.”

“Correct again, Harrington.”

Suddenly Dustin and Steve gang up against you like brothers, nosey and annoying, and watching them fall back into their easy connection that you’ve missed so much makes you helpless against their interrogations. 

You’ll do anything for one more minute of their friendship. 

“Fine,” nervously you look out the window, making sure neither Nancy nor Jonathan are close by. “I’ll admit that there’s… something wrong with them.”

“Aha!” Steve exclaims, pointing an excited finger at you. “I knew it!”

Mortified, you push his finger away. “Shhh!”

Dustin leans forward, eager for more. “Go on. We’re listening.”

You push your hair back, suddenly too warm. “Look, I really don’t know much more than you guys. All I can tell you is that Jonathan has been really weird lately and Nancy has been incredibly distant.”

“I still think Jonathan did something.”

You glare at Steve. “You’re ridiculous.”

He smirks, ready to tease you even more, but he’s cut off by Jonathan’s quick taps on the windshield to catch everyone’s attention. “Erica gave the signal. Let’s go.”

The bright mood in the car dims once again, and without saying another word the three of you exit the car and follow after the others into the Turnbow house.

–

Hiding the bodies is the easy part, as horrifying as that sounds. 

Joyce backs the van into the Turnbow’s garage while you help Robin wrap the family in sheets. Their sleeping bodies look too similar to corpses, making your stomach twist at the thought. 

“It concerns me how many felonies I’ve committed with minors.” You choke back a gag, wrapping Tina’s small body up.

Erica rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Y/N.”

Once you have every family member safely inside the van, you knock three times on the vehicle to signal to Joyce that she can now drive off. Once she’s gone, everyone immediately gets to work. 

Rearranging the house becomes a harder task than anticipated. It’s huge, filled to the brim with expensive items and large pieces of furniture with limited time to get rid of it all.

Everyone has a designated job as you all work in silence together. You stick with Steve, Dustin, and Mike and help them set a trap for the Demogorgon. As you hammer nails into a piece of plywood, a sickening sense of deja-vu overwhelms you. 

Years ago you were in the Byers’ home doing this very same thing, preparing to face a creature you didn’t yet have a name for and you were in way over your head. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. Back then you had been naive to the monsters that lay hidden beneath Hawkins. 

Now, as you help set a trap for a Demogorgon you’ve faced before, you still can’t help but feel that you’re biting off more than you can chew. That your naivety still haunts you. 

Once the trap has been laid, Dustin gathers everyone into the garage and hands out the necessary weapons. While none of you hope you’ll have to use them, you all recognize the reality of what may come. 

You choose to stick with your knives. They bring you comfort in a way no other weapon can. As you go upstairs and sit in a corner to sharpen the blades, a loud, metallic sound pierces your eardrums. 

“What the fuck?” You turn in your seat and find Steve wielding a large, far too dangerous chainsaw. 

“Like it?” He waves the chainsaw around as he laughs like a kid in a candy store. “Don’t I look badass?”

Mike visibly groans while you cover your ears and shout, “Turn that thing off!”

Steve obliges, though not without pouting. “Admit it, angel. I look hot carrying this.”

“Kill me.” Dustin and Jonathan gag. 

“I prefer men with all five fingers, Steve.”

Nancy snickers, holding her hand out for a high-five which you readily accept. Steve visibly deflates at your disapproval, but when Mike orders him to cut through the Turnbow’s living room floor with the chainsaw, he’s all too happy to help. 

“This is by far the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,” you stare down at the gaping hole in the floor, which leads directly into a nest of barbed wire. “And we’ve fought evil Russians before.”

“Just savor the moment, Y/N.” Dustin pats your back roughly. “We’re about to successfully trap a Demogorgon.”

–

Your feet tap nervously against the floor of Steve’s car, anxious as ever with your eyes glued to the skyline for any sign of danger. There are so many aspects of the plan that could go horribly wrong. 

Lucas could get hurt distracting the creature, or Mike could trip over his own two feet and fall into the barbed wire pit himself. 

The Demogorgon could completely run past the faux floor and not fall in, leaving you trapped in a house with it.

Or worse, Nancy could miss her only shot at the Demogorgon and fail to implant the telemetry tag, meaning all the work you put in and all the laws you broke would be for nothing.

“This is gonna work.” Dustin reassures the doubts that you don’t voice. 

You stare out the window. “It better work.” 

Holly and El are depending on the plan. 

Their lives are on the line and you’re helpless against the forces that separate you if something goes wrong tonight.

They’re just kids. 

Steve senses your worry and tries to get you to smile. “If this plan doesn’t work and I drilled a giant antenna into my car for nothing, I’m gonna kill Wheeler.”

Despite yourself, you manage a small laugh. “I think it adds character.”

“Hey.” Robin’s voice floats through the walkie. “Talk to me, guys. How’s it looking out there?”

You reach over for the device and respond. “It’s quite over here. How are the Turnbows holding up?”

“They’re still in their ‘food comas’, but I swear to god, this Demo better show up.” Robin huffs out. “If we took out an entire family for nothing, I don’t think my conscience will recover.”

“I’m really tired of committing felonies.”

Robin laughs at this. “Isn’t your boyfriend, like, super well connected with a ton of rich lawyers? I doubt Steve would ever let you anywhere near a jail cell. You’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Damn right.”

You ignore him and continue talking to Robin. Her ability to soothe you with her soft humor comforts you. “His uncle is a lawyer, actually.”

“Even better! Although I do hope that Steve isn’t related to some douchebag who defends rich criminals, even if white collar crime sounds like a Harrington thing to do.” Robin rambles on. “I do think in this case, however, the rich douchebags would be coming for us.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Technically, I think his uncle his legally required to take a few cases pro bono, so maybe he can help us–”

“Shh!” Dustin harshly shushes you, eyes glued to his binoculars.

Your body springs to attention, leaning forward so that you can get a better look at whatever the hell he’s spotted. You squint your eyes, straining to see something, until you finally find it.

The streetlamps are flickering. 

Your fingers find your knives, pressing the base of its handle into your palm. Adrenaline courses through your veins, it rips through your ribcage and sets every cell in your body on fire. 

It’s time.

“I fucking hate doing this.” You spit out, body bracing for an impact yet to come. 

Dustin ignores you while Steve grabs the walkie from your hand.

“I think we’ve got company. It’s going south down Arlington, T-minus thirty seconds.” He informs the others. “Status check. Taggers?” 

“In position and set.” Nancy confirms. “Launcher?” 

Lucas confirms as well. “Set. Catcher?”

“Set.” Mike’s voice crackles through the walkie. “Trackers?”

You, Dustin, and Steve all look at each other. Anticipation hangs in the air.

“Set.” Steve confirms. “Let’s do this thing already.”

The channel goes quiet as everyone prepares for what’s to come. 

One by one the streetlamps flicker to life, a trail of light that slowly ebbs its way to the Turnbow’s house until suddenly the house itself begins to flash wildly. Shadows dance across its porch and windows as the lights rapidly fade in and out.

“It’s inside.” Dustin reveals to Steve. “Minimize chatter.”

He quickly relays the information to the others inside the house. “It’s inside. No one talk.”

You get out of the car, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Your muscles pull taut, aching to be released. 

Will had been right. There’s no turning back now. 

Through the window you’re able to faintly see the outline of the Demogorgon creep inside of Derek’s room. It sniffs the air, head low as it hunts for the prey you know it won’t find. The minute it reaches the foot of Derek’s bed and claws at the decoy, you run. 

Someone has to be the one to ensure Lucas makes it to the living room in time, and you’ve spent all your life running. 

Within seconds you fling the front door open and shout as loud as you can, “Run!”

You hear Lucas attacking the Demogorgon upstairs with gasoline waterballoons. You anxiously wait for him, heart in your throat, and remain on high alert as the kid comes flying down the stairs, narrowly dodging the trip wire as the monster chases him.

Its pained screams tell you the trip wire has worked, and Lucas lands next to you with a loud thud and you quickly scan his body for any injuries. “Are you alright?”

“No time to talk,” he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the living room. “We need to go!”

Just as you start to run, the Demogorgon jumps over the stair’s railing and nearly crushes you both with its body. You scream, shoving Lucas behind you and stab at it with your knives all while Lucas narrowly manages to navigate the two of you to where Mike awaits. 

Then you’re flying through the air, jumping over the carpet that hides the trap beneath it, and somehow, miraculously, the Demogorgon falls into it just as you’ve landed on the couch across. 

Only its claws grip onto the wooden floor, scratching at the panels as it fights its way back up. Mike bludgeons the monster with a shovel in an attempt to get it to surrender to the inevitable. 

“Get him!” You shout alongside Lucas, hands braced on your knives in case you need to use them. 

With one last blow, Mike sends the Demogorgon down into the Turnbow’s basement where the barbed wires and Nancy and Jonathan await. It writhes in pain, stuck in the painful wire, and in its torture it doesn’t see the shotgun that Nancy aims at its defenseless body. 

The shot echoes within the house and embeds the tracker into its thick skin. The Demogorgon doesn’t have time to register its pain before Jonathan throws a lit flare at it, devouring the monster in flames. 

Just as you think the Demogorgon will finally succumb to its wounds, it thows its body back up towards you, Mike, and Lucas as it screeches in pain. The heat of its flame infested body sears your skin as Mike pushes you out of its way, attacking it with his shovel.

“Get him, Mike!” Lucas screams from the other side, unable to do anything else but watch. 

You lunge at the creature, slicing through its armoured skin as you try desperately to ignore the burning sensation that coats the whites of your knuckles. All you focus on is protecting Mike. Nothing else matters.

The Demogorgon unexpectedly throws its body towards Lucas, and you scream his name so loud that it tears through your vocal chords. He only just barely dodges the monster’s attack before a gate tears open in the wall and the Demogorgon slips inside, making its escape.

“It flipped! I repeat, it flipped!” Mike screams into his walkie before frantically turning to you. “Go follow it, now!”

You flee the house with Nancy and Jonathan right behind you. The three of you throw yourselves into the back of Steve’s car, long past the uncomfortable sensation of being so close together as adrenaline eats you alive. 

“Where is it?” Jonathan demands the second he slides into the seat.

Dustin waves his arm around. “Give me a second!”

Everyone shuts up as he carefully angles the antenna to catch any signal he can find. “Bearing northwest and fast.” Dustin tells Steve, signaling him to start driving.

Steve turns the key, but the engine sputters and groans. “C’mon, work with me here.”

“The Demogorgon is tagged and released.” Dustin clings onto the antenna, radioing everyone your every move. “Trackers in pursuit. Repeat, trackers in pursuit.” He gestures wildly at Steve, who still hasn’t gotten the car to start. “Hit it!”

Your body gets thrown against the seat as Steve accelerates down the road far faster than he should. One more law broken tonight.

“Signal is holding. Keep steady… Holding…” Dustin’s eyes never leave the decibel meter until he abruptly instructs, “Turn right!”

“Right?” Bewilderment covers Steve’s face. There isn’t any road to the right.

“Right! Turn right!” A crazed glint overtakes Dustin’s eyes. “Now!”

Not having any time to argue, Steve blindly jerks the steering wheel and barrels through several fences and mailboxes. The car jumps and lurches at every collision and you have to cling desperately onto Nancy and Jonathan to avoid flying through the windshield. 

“Sorry!” Steve shouts over and over with every bush and curb he hits.

Your stomach twists into painful knots as nausea overwhelms you.

You really didn’t miss the car chases. 

“We’re going to crash!” Jonathan wraps you in his arms, barely clinging onto his own seat as Steve hits yet another fence. “Jesus!”

“Dustin said turn right!” Steve screeches back, hitting his head against the roof after the car runs over something else. 

But Dustin ignores the pained screams and panic. Instead he studies the decibel meter and when the signal suddenly seems to weaken, he silences everyone in the car. “Shut up! Stop! We need to stop right here!”

Steve slams on the brakes and Nancy has to catch your body before you face plant into the center console. “Fuck!”

“Goddamn it, Henderson!” Steve hits the steering wheel in frustration. “What are we doing?”

“We lost the signal!” Dustin erratically steers the antenna in every possible direction.

Dread fills your lungs with every passing second. Have you gotten it all wrong? Did Vecna manage to win again? Will Holly’s blood stain your hands the way her mother’s did? The way Max’s stain still lingers?

“I got it!” Dustin’s voice breaks you from your terror. “It’s headed southeast now.”

“Southeast?” That’s the complete other way you were originally going. “Why would it go–”

You’re unable to finish your sentence before Steve propels the car into reverse, following the signal before it’s lost again. “Hang on!”

“But why would it turn around?” You lean forward as far as you dare, hands gripping the seat tightly as you force Dustin to look at you and reckon with the question that haunts you. “Where is it going?”

“I don’t know,” your brother confesses, risking looking away from the decibel meter to catch your eye. “I’m sorry, Y/N. But I don’t know where the hell this thing is going.”

None of it makes sense. “There’s nothing east except…”

Hawkins urban development predominately took over the west side of the city when it was first established. The west is where all the stores, houses, and schools are. 

But east of Hawkins has remained untouched, rural ever since your mother was a child. While the rest of the city grew and expanded, the east kept its trees and farmland.

Then it hits you like a truck. “The farm!”

The Demogorgon is leading you straight towards the McCorkle farm, where Will and others are. It was supposed to be a refuge for them. A place to hide the Turnbows. A place to be utterly defenseless. 

And now there’s a Demogorgon hunting for blood, running right towards them.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

Faint whispers trickle through your eardrums. They’re soft, quiet at the rounded vowels, and the hushed words almost go undetected. 

“Do we just let her sleep?”

“What other choice do we have?”

A third hushed voice breaks through your haze of sleep. “Or we could just wake her up, dipshits.”

“Real nice, Henderson.” 

“You asked for my input, so I gave it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be such an asshole about it.” 

Suddenly the voices rise in volume as Steve and Dustin break out into yet another exhausting argument. Faintly you register Jonathan’s soft voice pleading with them to be quiet, fearful of waking you up, but the fear has long since come to pass.

Your eyes open and your gaze lands on Steve and Dustin in the front seat, bodies facing away from each other in a tense standoff with Jonathan next to you, a worried hand on the base of your ankle as he anxiously endures the conversation. 

“Listen, if we don’t wake Y/N up then she’ll wring our asses.” Dustin says, rolling his eyes at Steve’s dismissive huff. 

“But this is the first time she’s slept in days,” the older boy reminds your brother. “Like hell am I waking her up. She needs the rest.”

The reminder of the events from the last forty-eight hours settles into your bones. Forcing yourself to sit up, ignoring every fiber of your body that begs to be laid to rest, you look out through the van’s window and realize you’re parked in front of the radio tower. 

Daylight surrounds itself around you. A deep, dull ache sits in your back. 

You must’ve slept the entire night on the van’s floor. 

“Unfortunately I’m already up.” 

All three boys whip their heads to look at you, staring down at you as if you’re some science experiment they haven’t quite figured out. 

Steve clears his throat sheepishly, now red. “Did we wake you?”

“Of course you woke her up.” Jonathan snaps, removing his hand from your ankle as if it has stung him. Although the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by either you or Steve, whose eyes narrow dangerously. 

He sucks in a breath, reeling for another fight, but you fling your hands out in annoyance and beckon towards the radio station. “I’d prefer if someone explained to me why we’re back here.”

Both Dustin and Jonathan turn to Steve expectantly, forming an unspoken alliance against him. Steve’s face pinches together as he waves his middle finger at them before turning to you. “Robin radioed us while you were asleep.”

Immediately you sit up properly. “What’d she say? Is everyone okay?”

“She’s with Will and Joyce,” Steve continues, fingers brushing over yours to quell the sting of your rapidly building hope. “But that’s all she told us before demanding that we meet here to discuss a new lead she has.”

While the information remains vague, it’s enough to snag at the remaining fragments of hope inside your chest as it expels the remnants of your exhaustion. Scrambling to your knees, you frantically crawl out of the van before anyone can stop you. 

Early morning birdsong greets you as your feet touch the grass. Time almost seems to stand still as you take in the rolling hills and green meadows before you. In the sunlight the red of Karen Wheeler’s blood on your clothing burns to brown and the kiss of the sun’s warmth masks the multitudes of grief that you can never seem to outrun. 

Yet in the distance Nancy’s car sends billows of smoke signals into the air and the minute she steps out of the vehicle her legs carry her to you. 

“Y/N.” Nancy’s small frame shudders against your chest as you hold her in your arms. Her eyes are as bloodshot as yours.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe into her neck, apologizing for the unfair hand she’s been dealt as you hold onto her so tightly that her skin becomes yours. “How is she–?”

You’re unable to utter Karen Wheeler’s name, though her daughter understands anyways. “She made it to the hospital. That’s all we know.”

You exhale at her words, your fingernails dig into her back and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Nancy so frail. A heavy hand falls on your lower back, accompanied by a gruff voice, “let me see her.”

If it were anyone else you’d bare your teeth and spit foul words, but for Jonathan Byers you lessen your grip on Nancy Wheeler and watch, silently, as she melts into his embrace. They come together like water, melting into one, and for a moment they’re just two kids in love. 

“You look like hell.” Mike steps out of the car and bypasses all formalities upon noticing you. Lucas stands next to him and both boys look about as well as you feel.

Though try as he might, Mike can’t hide his hurt from you. Traces of dread etch his face, and you’re pulling him into your arms before he can escape. “How’re you holding up?”

He stiffens at the unexpected embrace, but after everything he’s been through the last sixteen hours, he can’t bring himself to pull away. His chest rises slowly, exhales even slower as he says, “I-I don’t really know what I’m doing–holy shit.”

Suddenly Mike shoves you away and rushes towards your brother, eyes narrowed at the onslaught of bruises and blood that stain his face. 

“You look like hell, dude.” Mike lets out a low whistle, studying Dustin’s face.

“Bike crash.” The lie comes out of Dustin’s mouth with a practiced ease that makes you uncomfortable. 

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Flew headfirst into a light post.” 

You feel Steve bristle next to you. Everyone knows that Dustin is lying.

Sharp pain coats your mouth as you bite the inside of your cheek. There’s nothing you can say that would change anything. 

“Look, I’m sorry about missing the crawl, and about… Everything.” Dustin averts everyone’s gaze. The guilt eats him alive. You know how painful the sensation of its hunger can be. 

“It’s not your fault,” Mike’s quick reassurance to comfort his friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that you find hard to swallow. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Looks like he already did.” Lucas steps closer to your brother and grimaces at the injuries that scatter his face. 

He reaches to Dustin’s nose, as if about to grab it, before you slap him away like a mother scolding a child. “Please don’t make the injury worse.”

Lucas glares at you, immediately defensive. “I just wanted to see if it was broken!”

“By touching it?” Dustin takes several steps back, alarmed at the idea of Lucas prodding at his still sore nose. 

An argument starts to break out between the two boys, but it quickly comes to an end when Robin flings the radio station’s door open and gestures wildly for everyone’s attention.

“Hey, this isn’t a social call, guys.” Her tone borders on annoyance and the manic glint in her eyes tells you that she hasn’t had a pleasant night, either. “Let’s go!”

Slowly everyone settles back into the realization of where they are, of why they’re in the middle of an abandoned field running on exhaustion and paranoia. Mike is the first to follow Robin inside, followed by Lucas and Dustin, and eventually even Nancy manages to break herself out of her grief long enough to grab Jonathan’s hand and guide him inside. 

You’re left with Steve and a silence that presses into your ribcage. 

You’ve never known how to survive in the silence. 

But then Steve’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, uncaring of the torn clothing and bloodstains. He holds you to his chest, cradles your head so that you can hear every beat of his heart, and in his embrace you find a solace that not even silence can bring.

“I can feel you slipping away,” Steve whispers, arms tightening around you with every word. His steady breathing gets interrupted by a sharp inhale, as if bracing for impact, before he says, “It scares me.”

You stiffen in his embrace. The unwavering way that Steve has always managed to see right through you still sends shockwaves through your system. It isn’t fair. 

“I’m not trying to.” You wish there was more you could say to reassure him, but exhaustion has long clouded your mind and you’re not sure how to piece together the fragments that are left.

“I know you aren’t,” Steve’s thumb traces the crest of your cheek. His eyes shine down on you soft, familiar and warm, though through the years they’ve weathered with worry. “But I need you to stay, angel.”

You’ve become a border edge of the silhouette you once were. A ghost that inhabits an abandoned body. 

“Stay here in the present with me, alright?” Steve pinches your nose and smiles bashfully when it elicits a small laugh from you. “I can’t have you getting lost in the past or stuck in a future that nobody can control. No shutting down. I won’t allow it.”

And you? You’re here. You’re here, stuck in the present with me and the party.

Lucas’ words remain etched into your mind. You haven’t forgotten them, though you suppose you haven’t quite figured out how to remain present, given how tirelessly the past tries to drown you. 

“Are you done lecturing me now?” You brush Steve’s hand away and encase it within your own, tugging him along. “Because I’m not sure how much longer we have before Robin sends a search party after us.”

But Steve doesn’t move. Instead, he remains in place and stands before you, arm extended with your hands still intertwined. His boyish face changes for a moment, flickers into something more real, more serious. “We have all the time in the world, Y/N.”

Time has always been a dangerous promise to keep, yet somehow its liminality morphs into something finite as it falls from Steve’s lips as he pulls you in.

He spins you around, holds you close to his chest as you dance together for only a brief second, before he seals his promise with a kiss that not even time itself could ever take away from you. 

– 

A distinct sense of horror freezes over your body when Robin reveals why she brought everyone to the radio station. 

Vecna has a new target. A little boy, not much older than Will had been. 

You’ve been here before.

“Derek? As in, Derek Turnbow?” Steve’s voice carries your own disbelief as he sits next to you on the couch, weight pressed to your side as a way to ground your ever growing nerves. “From the Turnbow Realty family?”

“The one and only.” Robin affirms, body hunched over in her own exhaustion. 

Your eyes close and the sensation of your nails digging into your palms provides enough of a sting to abate the panic swelling in your chest. 

“The whole family’s a menace.” Lucas says unhelpfully.

You bite back your disdain for the comment, knowing that Lucas doesn’t mean any harm. You understand why he said it, having spent a rather awful night babysitting Derek for a few hours when you were fourteen. He had been nothing but cruel, obnoxious, and vindictive. Ultimately you declined Mrs. Turnbow when she asked if you’d be willing to babysit him in the future.

Yet despite how terrible Derek Turnbow may be, he’s still just a kid. 

And you’re still marked. Vecna’s curse. It still resides in your bloodstream.

You’ll do anything to remain his sole victim. 

“How do you know it’s Derek who’s next?” You’re careful to keep your voice level, calm. The less emotion you show, the better. “I mean, as far as we know, I’m still marked. Who’s to say it isn’t me that Vecna’s looking for?”

Steve inhales sharply and Dustin drops his head to his hands. You refuse to look at them, instead choosing to aim your gaze at Robin.

Only it’s Will who answers.

“Because I saw Derek,” he says softly, almost regretful. “Not you, Y/N.”

His words confuse you. “I don’t think I understand what that means.”

“I’ve learned that when I’m close enough to the hive mind, I can tap into it. I can tap into Vecna’s mind.” Will explains, eyes regretful as he delivers the news he knows will upset you. “I can see who he’s targeting.”

Your stomach twists painfully as a new wave of horror washes over you. Will was once called a spy and declared a traitor who was forcibly locked away in a cabin in the woods in an attempt to expel the monsters inside of him. 

Now, years later, Will has become the very thing you promised him he wouldn’t.

Vecna’s spy. A weapon against his will. 

“But were you seeing through the eyes of Vecna or of Derek?” Steve rubs his temple, trying desperately to keep up.

“Both.” Will clarifies. “I-I was Vecna, but inside of Derek’s mind.”

“And you’re absolutely sure that you didn’t ‘see’ Y/N in that hallucination of yours?” Steve questions, adamant he ensures that there isn’t a hint of a possibility of you being in danger. 

Will shakes his head. “All I saw was Derek.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You insist, eager to find an answer that involves your life on the line. “I was Vecna’s last target. It should be me he comes after next. Not Derek or Holly.”

“Vecna’s a psychic serial killer. Nothing he does makes sense.” Robin reminds you gently. “I mean, he stalks his victims by invading their minds. That’s what he did with Chrissy and Max and you–”

Then Robin seems to remember just how close she came to losing you, and her mouth snaps shut immediately. “Sorry.”

You shift away from the others, uncomfortable with the sudden mournful expressions on everyone’s face. Their pity only builds resentment within your chest.

Memories from last year haunt you. Sometimes you can still feel Vecna’s claws in your membrane, but that doesn’t mean it makes you any more willing to be mourned over. Not when it was Max who suffered the consequences that should’ve been yours. 

Steve’s hand falls to your thigh as he tries to comfort you, yet Nancy, sharp as a knife, doesn’t shy away from your past.

“Vecna stalked Holly before he took her.” She looks only at you. “Only he stalked her as Henry, befriended her, for weeks.”

Nancy clenches her fists, exhales slowly, before asking the question that she dreads the most. “Were there any signs before he attacked you?”

A phantom sensation of dandelions choking you constricts your breathing. The memory of them slices your tongue, tangles your airway, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the memory from drowning you. 

“The summer before Vecna attacked… I had a nightmare.” The words get stuck in the grooves of your teeth, forcing you to spit them out like a dirty confession. “I was in a field of dandelions before they suddenly swarmed around me and I was suffocating.”

The room stands still. Unable to look at anyone, you look down at your bloodied palms instead. “Then, when Vecna showed me and Nancy our visions, he told me I've become fragile… like a dandelion.”

You steady your breathing. You don’t know why this feels as if you’re confessing something terrible. Maybe you are. 

“That’s when I realized he’d been watching me for months.”

A cacophony of reactions overtakes the room. 

Steve nearly topples out of his seat due to how fast his body turns to yours, talking a mile a minute and demanding to know more about the nightmare. “Are you serious–”

But his worries get lost in Dustin’s stunned confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve used this information sooner!”

“Was there anything else in your dream?” Mike is quick to ask his own investigative questions, knocking his elbows into your side in his hurry to get closer to you. “I mean, anything useful besides stupid dandelions?”

The voices begin to overlap in a way that dizzies you. Seeing your discomfort, Nancy places a hand on her brother’s chest and pulls him away from you while simultaneously flicking Dustin’s hat. “Give her some space.”

Mike makes a face and Dustin grumbles under his breath, but without another word the boys go back to their seats. Thankful for the breathing room, you smile appreciatively at Nancy. “Thank you.”

She smiles back, soft, tired, before it falls into a broken frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to cast the attention onto you.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head. “I want to help however I can. If it means finding Holly and protecting Derek, then I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

“Do you… know why Vecna gave you evil dandelion nightmares?” Mike asks cautiously, unsure how much you’re willing to disclose.

“No,” you admit, regretful. You’re the only person alive who was marked by Vecna and the only source of information available. You despise how little you’re able to help. “I never understood why. All I can remember is that the field felt familiar, like I’d been there before. I…” You clear your throat and cast a nervous glance towards your brother. “I think he was showing me Virginia. Where I grew up.”

Dustin’s spine goes pin straight at the revelation, though he remains quiet. Mike, however, narrows his eyes. “Nancy and I think that Vecna was trying to earn Holly’s trust. That’s why he befriended her. Maybe he was trying to earn yours, too?”

A sarcastic laugh falls from your mouth. “Yeah, well if his long-term goal was forming a friendship, then giving me a nightmare where I suffocate in dandelions was a pretty shitty attempt.”

“Maybe he was shy?” Robin suggests with a wince.

Steve shakes his head in disappointment while you huff lightly. “Unlikely.”

“Well whatever Vecna’s plan is,” Will recenters the group, silencing the room once more. “We have to stop him, and we have to save Derek.”

And the rest is decided.

–

Will herds everyone downstairs and instructs you to stand in front of the projector. Within minutes he has a pointer aimed at the map of Hawkins as he explains his plan with a confidence that surprises you.

“The Turnbows live here.” Will points to a neighborhood on the map. “We wait in a van across the street.”

For as long as you’ve known Will, he has always been a follower rather than a leader. Now, as you watch him command the room, you’re confronted with just how much he’s grown, and it fills you with warm, pleasant pride. 

Then Will proposes kidnapping a child and you’re reminded all over again just how naive and insanely young he still is.

“As soon as they’re asleep, we move in, we grab Derek, and we take him to the McCorkle farm. It’s completely abandoned and isolated.”

“Oh absolutely not.” You gawk, baffled. “There’s no way I’m kidnapping another kid.”

Lucas’ eyes widen. “‘Another kid’?”

“Unfortunately Erica counts as the first.”

“We’ll be using a blindfold.” Will waves his pointer at you. “So technically it isn’t kidnapping if Derek never finds out who we are or where he is.”

“That’s literally the definition of kidnapping.”

“Better than Vecna kidnapping him.” Robin snaps her fingers. “I’d consider us a much better option.”

While she’s right, you still wholly dislike the plan. “Can’t we do something a little less… extreme?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees, looking over to his mom who has been silent the entire time. “Are you alright with just kidnapping a child?”

“Robin’s right. We’re saving a child via kidnapping. So it’s fine. I think.” Joyce shrugs, though she grimaces at her own words and quickly backtracks. “Alright. Now’s not the time to play it safe, Jonathan.”

You step forward, casting an apologetic look towards the woman. “With all due respect, Mrs. Byers, I think now is the exact time to be playing it safe. We’ve already lost El and Hopper and Holly. We can’t just blindly run into whatever Vecna has planned for us.”

Dustin nods. “I’m not morally opposed to the plan, but I agree with Y/N. There’s a few holes in it.”

“Like what if Derek falls asleep before the Demogorgon attacks him?” Lucas suggests.

“That’s one.” Your brother agrees. 

“Or what if Derek wakes up before we grab him and alerts his family? We’ll go to jail.” Nancy points out.

“And there’s another.” Dustin nods again. “But the third, most gaping hole is that even if by some miracle this plan even works: saving Derek won’t bring us any closer to finding Vecna and the others. It just buys us some time. That’s it.”

The atmosphere turns somber at the reminder of just how much none of you know. Without El and her powers, you’re practically helpless against Vecna and locating him. 

But just as the silence becomes deafening, Mike breaks it.

“Not necessarily,” he slowly looks up at the others. “There might be a way to save Derek and find Holly.”

In a heartbeat he stands up and rummages around the basement, mumbling under his breath with every passing second. No one interferes, either too confused or too worried it will only set the kid off more.

Then Mike lunges towards a small, blue bag and he lets out a small victorious cheer. “Yes! Okay, everyone around the table, now.”

Curious, you do as he says and watch as he dumps the bag out, revealing a multitude of old, worn D&D pieces. 

“This is Derek,” Mike holds up one of the pieces, silently instructing everyone to follow along. He sets the piece down and arranges the others into a circle. “And this is the rest of the Turnbow family. We’re gonna need to recruit someone that the family trusts and can gain access to the house.”

“And this person will do what? Ask the Turnbows not to call the cops?” You ask, uncertain of the plan. 

“No, the person is going to knock the family out so we can extract them from the house.”

Mike’s words cause you to sigh. “Right. Should’ve assumed that.”

“Knock them out?” Joyce’s concern reflects your own. 

“Safely,” Mike assures her. “With sleeping pills or something.”

“I might know where we could get some benzos.” Robin supplies. “Those things are like elephant tranquilizers.”

“How would you know?” Steve eyes her wearily.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “There are now multiple felonies included in this plan.”

Robin winks. “Only the two, pretty girl.”

“We’ll take the benzos.” Mike ignores your disdain. “That way, if Vecna spies, he’ll just assume that Derek is fast asleep in bed and he’ll send his Demos to grab him. Only he won’t find Derek. He’ll find us.”

“Wait a minute,” you place your hand in the middle of the table, blocking Mike from putting any more pieces down. “Who is ‘us’?”

“Everyone in this room.” He leans forward, eyes daring you to argue. “Me and the rest of the party included.”

You go to open your mouth to argue, but Dustin interrupts before you can start. “Save your breath, Y/N. You said yourself that we’re missing Hopper and El. Like it or not, we need all the help we can get.”

As much as you want to protest, you know that your brother is right. While you hate the idea of the kids staging an ambush against Vecna, you don’t have any other option. Biting your lip, you reluctantly remove your hand and nod to Mike to continue. 

He flashes you a sarcastic thumbs up and explains that Murray will be supplying the traps that’ll hopefully burn the demogorgon. Then he stuffs his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small device. “But not before we stick him with one of these.” 

The telemetry tag flashes red on the table. “We’ll track the Demo across the Upside Down in the Squawk van just like we did with Hopper, and if we’re lucky the bastard will lead us back to its lair.”

“Where Vecna will be with Holly. Two birds, one stone.” The pieces fall into place and you nod, impressed. “Clever as always, Wheeler.”

“Someone has to be.” 

And when no one voices any complaints or possible flaws within the plan, Mike smirks triumphantly and dismisses the group to prepare for what lies ahead. 

Lucas and Mike set off to the middle school to find Erica, who apparently used to be close friends with the Turnbow’s daughter. You find it ironic that it’s somehow Erica that the plan hinges on, given her history of forced compliance. 

Robin all but drags Will outside with her to secure the benzos needed, despite your many attempts to stop her. 

“Why the hell are you taking Will with you on your drug run?” You grab at her hand and try to use all your body weight to prevent the girl from getting into Joyce’s car, but Robin has somehow become shockingly strong and tugs you away. 

“Because little Byers won’t lecture me!” Robin pokes her tongue out at you and grabs the back of Will’s collar, shoving him into the passenger seat. “See ya, pretty girl.”

Will waves. “Bye!”

You stand in the driveway alongside Joyce, who has watched the whole ordeal as you all but pout, watching as the two drive away in a fit of laughter. Neither you nor Joyce have any idea when they became the best of friends, but you’re starting to hate their newfound friendship.

“Do I have to ask if your friend will keep Will safe?” Joyce nudges her shoulder against yours, breaking you from your moody disposition briefly. 

“Robin will keep him safe,” you reluctantly promise, though you’re a little weary of their relationship. “I just have no idea how she managed to find a stash of drugs in Hawkins.”

Joyce chuckles while Steve walks up behind you and kisses your temple. “I’m sure Robin will tell you all about it the next time she orchestrates a drug deal.”

“I’m never leaving her unsupervised ever again.”

Steve’s chest rumbles in amusement and you allow yourself a moment to sink against him and close your eyes. Your days are slowly blurring together, but here, in his arms, you’re able to breathe.

Sensing the desire to be alone, Joyce gently squeezes your upper arm and places a kiss to your shoulder. The act of affection soothes the open wounds left from the night before. Her presence will always soothe you.

“Anyway, I came out here to tell you that I’ve left a spare change of clothes inside the station.” She says delicately. Her eyes never stray from yours, though you know she struggles against herself not to look down and see the mess of blood that soaks your clothing. 

A piece of your ribcage softens. “How did you–?”

“Jonathan radioed while you were asleep.” Joyce squeezes your arm again, this time with a smile you can’t quite decipher. It appears small, timid, almost nostalgic, but before you can ask her anything else, she lets you go. “I’ll be inside if you need anything.”

And with that, Joyce leaves.

–

Mike hadn’t specified what exactly Murray would be smuggling over for the Turnbow house, but when the man opens his truck and unloads the supplies, for a moment you’re fearful he somehow intercepted a serial killer’s delivery. 

Murray hands Jonathan a hyper-realistic CPR dummy that makes you highly uncomfortable to look at and Nancy an armful of ammo before turning to you with a crazed smile on his face.

“And, for little miss unbearable, I present this,” he stretches out his arm and reveals a misshapen frog puppet. “Mike said it’d help ease your nerves. Unsure why, but I’ve learned not to question the kid.”

Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?

Jonathan does a poor job of hiding his laughter while Nancy bites back an amused smile. Both Steve and Dustin outright laugh at you. 

Glaring at them, you grab the frog and hold it awkwardly between your hands. “I really hate how funny Mike is sometimes.”

“He’s an odd duck.” Murray jumps down from the truck and walks over to a crate. He throws open its top and reveals a mass of wire. “Speaking of ducks, do take care to keep your precious frog away from the 3,000 feet of barbed wire.”

“That seems excessive. Even for Mike.”

Murray shrugs at you. “It’s what he asked for. Now, onto Bilbo Baggins,” the man hands Dustin a box. “Some sparkling new spark plugs.”

Dustin frowns. “Spark plugs? That’s it?”

By the tone of his voice you know that he’s unamused with the shortchange he’s been given. 

“I’m also giving out free hugs.” Murray smiles. 

Disgust marks your face. “Do not touch my brother.”

Murray bares his teeth at you while Dustin groans. “You didn’t get the turbocharger, either?”

“No.”

“The suspension kit?”

“No.”

Sensing that your brother will only run the man in circles, you leave him to deal with Murray and go follow after Steve. Mike heroically left him the job of clearing out the van in order to smuggle the Turnbows away. While he withheld his complaints, you know that Steve will enjoy the company as he wrestles with the vehicle and its contents.

You hear Steve before you see him,

“Lousy piece of shit!” A loud thump follows his exasperated groans, proceeded by a pained yelp when he inexplicably drops whatever heavy item he’d been carrying on his foot. “Fuck!”

Turning the corner, you find your boyfriend hunched over his knees amongst an endless sea of wires and leather seats gutted from the Squawk van. Sweat drips down his forehead and his flushed skin tells you he’s one stumble away from driving the van into Mike Wheeler’s house. 

“Need some help, honey?” You brace a hand on his back, steadying his disheveled body as you carefully step inside the vehicle, careful not to fall.

Steve grabs your wrist and kisses it, his overly warm skin cools at the sensation of yours. “Have I ever told you how much I hate Mike?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“I mean,” he kicks at a loose bolt, upending yet another seat from the van’s floor. “Why am I the one tasked with cleaning out this hunk of metal? Do we even need the entire bed of this thing, anyways? Can’t we just squish everything inside and call it a day?”

You snort. “You do realize that we’re throwing an entire family back here, right?”

“They’ll be too knocked out to care.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Steve chuckles and reaches for your waist. Once he has you where he wants you, he pulls your body down onto his and lands on the last remaining seat within the van. The old leather cracks beneath your bodies, but neither you nor Steve pay any attention to it.

Steve’s head buries itself into your chest and you feel him exhale slowly. Your fingers find his hair, entertaining themselves within the strands you’ve long since have claimed as your own, and he presses himself deeper into your touch. 

“Miss you,” he mumbles, hands roaming down to your thighs as he pulls them over his lap so that you’re seated flush against him. It’s been so long since Steve has had you this close.

And though he’s been at your beck and call ever since yesterday morning, you understand the ache that Steve feels in his longing for you. “I miss you, too.”

You haven’t been alone, truly alone, with Steve in nearly three days. Once, the absence would’ve gone unnoticed. It was you who insisted on spending an entire summer ignoring him and his stupid boyish charm. Now, with the knowledge of just how lovely it is to be Steve Harrington’s, you feel devoid of any pleasure whenever he’s gone.

Steve’s stomach presses against yours as he inhales deeply. Light, butterfly-soft kisses litter themselves along your collarbones. Your breathy laugh accompanies the tender admiration, which Steve smiles in response to as well. 

“I’m sorry about Dustin,” the apology falls between each kiss. “I know I can be a massive dick to him sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You look down at him with a teasing smile, though you both know you mean it. 

“More than I’d like to admit.” Steve relents, placing a kiss to the base of your throat. You hum at the sensation, and your satisfaction gives him the confidence to find the rest of his words. “I know I should be more patient with him, but I just… I hate the way he treats you.”

“It isn’t your responsibility to defend me. I don’t want you to defend me.” Your fingers dance over Steve’s, intertwining them together. “Not when I understand Dustin’s anger better than anyone else.”

“That still doesn’t make it fair to you, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh at this. “And when has anything in my life been fair?”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t find your words as funny as you do. 

But rather than continue to try and convince you of all you deserve, knowing it to be a useless endeavor, he instead accepts what he knows you can offer him. “How’re you holding up?”

Though he can’t bring himself to say Vecna’s name, you know that Steve’s question resides in how everyone’s eyes fell on you when you revealed he’d been watching you for a long time.

“I’m fine.” Neither you nor Steve can tell if you’re lying.

“You know that you can always step away, right?” His fingers grow restless in yours. The unease that follows his question makes you wonder just how long his worry has festered. “Let Mike and the others handle the Turnbows if you need the break. I mean, no one would blame you.”

Though you know he means well, you fervently shake your head at what Steve has said. “I promised Nancy I’d bring Holly back to her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Now Steve is the one who shifts uncomfortably. “Y/N, you just had to relive your worst nightmare in front of an entire group of people. You had Mrs. Wheeler’s blood all over you not even an hour ago. I-I can’t imagine what you must be feeling–”

“However I’m feeling doesn’t matter.” You cut off Steve’s concerned rambling. “Nancy and Mike lost their sister, Steve. Their parents are laying in hospital beds. Whatever I may be feeling, I can promise you that what they’re going through is even more painful, even more debilitating.”

You straighten your back and look down at the man beneath you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and despite the fact that you’re solidifying every fear that Steve has, he still gazes up at you as if you’ve given him the ocean and its waves. 

“I’m going to the Turnbow’s.”

Your tone remains definitive. There is no room for arguments or discontent. 

Bittersweet worry infiltrates Steve’s mouth. He understands that there isn’t any way he can change your mind or convince you to place yourself first. The bags underneath your eyes have only grown worse these last few days. He doesn’t think they will ever get better. 

And while Steve wants nothing more than to encase you into his chest and keep you away from everything that could ever hurt you, yourself included, Jonathan’s obnoxious voice leaks into his mind and reminds Steve that he can’t sideline you.

You’d never forgive him if he did. 

Exhaling the last of his doubts, Steve caresses your lower back and you watch his eyes soften. He will always love you and your selfish desire to be needed. You will always love him and his inability to resent you for it. 

Even if it means one day you’ll burn yourself up, leaving Steve to bury your ashes. 

“What are you guys doing?”

Dustin’s arrival forces you to pull away from your boyfriend. Stuffing your hands behind your back, feeling like a little kid caught, you clear your throat and face your brother. “We’re getting the van set up. Mike’s orders.”

“But why even bother?” Dustin kicks at one of the many discarded objects outside of the vehicle, which all lay haphazardly on the grass. “This van is a lost cause, anyways.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Take it won’t help us, then. Like usual.”

The throwaway comment causes you to stiffen while Dustin narrows his eyes. But rather than bite back at Steve’s bark, your brother surprises you.

“No, what I mean is that this piece of shit once stalled out chugging up Pickett Road.” Dustin clarifies, tone neutral. “It’s not fast enough to keep up with a Demo without serious modifications.”

“And this is us modifying.” Steve gestures between you and him before pointing towards the discarded pile. “A lighter van is a faster van.”

“We’ll also be attempting to fit an entire family inside,” you remind him. “But sure. I guess we’re making it faster, too.”

Steve nods. “And if we’re just tracking, we won’t need half the shit that’s in here. Speaking of, can you go to the front and empty out the window washer fluid?”

You tilt your head. “The… window washer fluid?”

“I’m sure emptying it will work wonders. Good job, Steven.” Dustin claps his hands, emphasizing his nasally and cruel words. 

“Dustin!” 

He ignores your warning. “No, truly. I’m stunned by Steve’s intellect. Who knew your boyfriend could think?”

You’re about to snatch Dustin’s hat off his head and show him exactly how little patience you have left, but Steve puts a hand in front of you, blocking him.

“You know what, Henderson? I think we should do what your sister suggested yesterday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dustin frowns, unused to Steve’s delay in the fight.

“It means we should both just shut up.” And with that, Steve shushes your brother and goes back to clearing out the van.

You’re so stunned by Steve’s uncharacteristic diplomacy that you don’t notice Dustin’s greedy eyes landing on a drill. He grabs it, investigates it with a terrifying smirk, before walking away with a pep in his step.

“Where the hell is he going with that?” Steve asks you, annoyance and slight fear tainting his voice. 

“I have no idea.” You quickly climb out of the van and follow after your brother. “Dustin, what are you–” 

Your words die in your throat when you realize he’s walking straight towards Steve’s car.

Nothing ever ends well when Dustin is given a power tool.

“Steve’s right, Y/N.” He climbs up onto the car’s roof and tilts his hat at you. “We don’t need half of the crap in there for our mission. In fact, the only thing we really need is a telemetry tracker, which I can affix to any vehicle.”

“You little shit!” Immediately understanding what Dustin intends, you lunge towards the car and attempt to climb it, but Steve’s hands force you down. “Let me go!”

He winces at how violently you thrash around, but his grip on you remains firm. While he’s worried about his car, he’s even more worried you’ll wind up getting hurt. “I really don’t want you accidentally impaling yourself with a power drill.”

You ignore his concern and flail your legs around, trying desperately to free yourself. “Dustin Henderson, put down your obnoxious ego so we can talk about this–”

“Thought you told me and Steve to shut up?” Your brother laughs like a deranged child at his own joke before bringing the tip of the power drill down to the roof.

Even Steve can’t keep his composure as Dustin switches the tool on, inches away from his beloved car. “Woah, hey! Don’t make me let your sister go!”

As if to emphasize his threat, you seethe at Dustin, “I’m going to kill you!” 

But Dustin knows that Steve would never, ever put you in a situation where you could potentially harm yourself, and it’s with this knowledge that he happily punctures the BMW with the drill. 

The unnecessary attack on the car you fell in love in only causes you to writhe in Steve’s grasp harder, almost animalistic as you shout threats and curses at your infuriating little brother.

“I’m telling mom you ruined Steve’s car!”

“Then I’m telling her you told me to shut up!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Where do you think I get it from?”

Soon both of your voices get drowned out as you and Dustin bicker back and forth with no end in sight. For a moment you’re just two little kids tattling on each other and throwing around harmless insults from when you were children. 

Steve would find it endearing if your screeching and the roar of the power drill weren’t seconds away from deafening him. 

So much for the Henderson charm. 

– 

Because Mike hates you, he shoves you, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy into Steve’s car before anyone can process what’s happening.

“Good luck,” he said with a smug smile. “You’ll all make a fantastic lookout squad.”

Mike then slammed the car door shut and ran away before Steve could run him over.

Which is how you find yourself stuck in between Jonathan and Nancy in the backseat of Steve’s now ruined car parked outside of the Turnbow house.

Somehow Dustin winds up in the passenger seat, which you resent him for.

The nighttime air is unusually warm, doing nothing to help abide the tension in the car as you all sit stiffly beside one another with too much unspoken history.

You twist your fingers together in your lap, unable to say anything as Dustin peers out the window with binoculars held up to his eyes to watch for Erica.

“She’s in,” he finally says into the walkie, alerting the others. 

“Thank god,” you exhale the breath you’d been holding. The sooner you’re out of the car, the better.

Jonathan shifts next to you, awkwardly adjusting himself so that he doesn’t press too deeply against your side. “It’s… a bit warm in here, don’t you think?”

Both you and Nancy turn to him, unsure which of you he’s talking to.

After an uncomfortably long pause, Jonathan seems to sense the confusion and clears his throat. “Nancy, why don’t we wait outside? Get some fresh air?”

Nancy frowns at the offer and looks at you, silently asking what she should do. All you can give her is a helpless shrug. “A walk sounds nice.”

This doesn’t seem to be the answer Nancy wants. Her frown deepens. “But what about keeping a lookout for Erica’s signal?”

“We’ll stay here,” you gesture towards Dustin and Steve. “We’ll get you guys when it’s time to go.”

Nancy bites her lip and considers this. Steve watches her hesitation through the rear mirror. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the bizarre shift between her and Jonathan.

“C’mon, Nance.” Jonathan reaches over you to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “Who knows how long until Erica knocks the Turnbows out?”

“Fine,” she finally gives in, unbuckling her seatbelt. “But we aren’t going far, alright?”

Jonathan nods, happy just to have gotten Nancy out of the car, and quickly the two of them close the doors behind them. 

Their departure eases the tension in the vehicle slightly, and you allow yourself a second to enjoy the small moment of peace. 

But Dustin and Steve waste no time ruining it.

“What the hell is going on between them?” Your brother asks the second Jonathan and Nancy leave.

You open your eyes and find both boys turned towards you with like two curious street cats. You’re immediately defensive, weary of their intentions. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Y/N.” Steve scoffs. “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that they’re clearly miserable.”

“They’re one awkward hug away from becoming depressing to look at.” Dustin adds. 

You stare at them both, stunned. While you can’t say that Jonathan and Nancy have been their normal selves recently, you’re surprised that even Dustin and Steve have caught on.

“I don’t really think now is the best time to be talking about this,” you hiss at them, nervous that the couple in question could be right outside the car listening. “This feels incredibly wrong and invasive–”

“So there’s definitely something wrong with them.” Dustin concludes from your uncomfortable reaction. 

Steve nods. “I bet it’s all Byers’ fault.”

“Duh.”

“And I bet Y/N knows more than she’s willing to let on.”

“Correct again, Harrington.”

Suddenly Dustin and Steve gang up against you like brothers, nosey and annoying, and watching them fall back into their easy connection that you’ve missed so much makes you helpless against their interrogations. 

You’ll do anything for one more minute of their friendship. 

“Fine,” nervously you look out the window, making sure neither Nancy nor Jonathan are close by. “I’ll admit that there’s… something wrong with them.”

“Aha!” Steve exclaims, pointing an excited finger at you. “I knew it!”

Mortified, you push his finger away. “Shhh!”

Dustin leans forward, eager for more. “Go on. We’re listening.”

You push your hair back, suddenly too warm. “Look, I really don’t know much more than you guys. All I can tell you is that Jonathan has been really weird lately and Nancy has been incredibly distant.”

“I still think Jonathan did something.”

You glare at Steve. “You’re ridiculous.”

He smirks, ready to tease you even more, but he’s cut off by Jonathan’s quick taps on the windshield to catch everyone’s attention. “Erica gave the signal. Let’s go.”

The bright mood in the car dims once again, and without saying another word the three of you exit the car and follow after the others into the Turnbow house.

–

Hiding the bodies is the easy part, as horrifying as that sounds. 

Joyce backs the van into the Turnbow’s garage while you help Robin wrap the family in sheets. Their sleeping bodies look too similar to corpses, making your stomach twist at the thought. 

“It concerns me how many felonies I’ve committed with minors.” You choke back a gag, wrapping Tina’s small body up.

Erica rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Y/N.”

Once you have every family member safely inside the van, you knock three times on the vehicle to signal to Joyce that she can now drive off. Once she’s gone, everyone immediately gets to work. 

Rearranging the house becomes a harder task than anticipated. It’s huge, filled to the brim with expensive items and large pieces of furniture with limited time to get rid of it all.

Everyone has a designated job as you all work in silence together. You stick with Steve, Dustin, and Mike and help them set a trap for the Demogorgon. As you hammer nails into a piece of plywood, a sickening sense of deja-vu overwhelms you. 

Years ago you were in the Byers’ home doing this very same thing, preparing to face a creature you didn’t yet have a name for and you were in way over your head. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. Back then you had been naive to the monsters that lay hidden beneath Hawkins. 

Now, as you help set a trap for a Demogorgon you’ve faced before, you still can’t help but feel that you’re biting off more than you can chew. That your naivety still haunts you. 

Once the trap has been laid, Dustin gathers everyone into the garage and hands out the necessary weapons. While none of you hope you’ll have to use them, you all recognize the reality of what may come. 

You choose to stick with your knives. They bring you comfort in a way no other weapon can. As you go upstairs and sit in a corner to sharpen the blades, a loud, metallic sound pierces your eardrums. 

“What the fuck?” You turn in your seat and find Steve wielding a large, far too dangerous chainsaw. 

“Like it?” He waves the chainsaw around as he laughs like a kid in a candy store. “Don’t I look badass?”

Mike visibly groans while you cover your ears and shout, “Turn that thing off!”

Steve obliges, though not without pouting. “Admit it, angel. I look hot carrying this.”

“Kill me.” Dustin and Jonathan gag. 

“I prefer men with all five fingers, Steve.”

Nancy snickers, holding her hand out for a high-five which you readily accept. Steve visibly deflates at your disapproval, but when Mike orders him to cut through the Turnbow’s living room floor with the chainsaw, he’s all too happy to help. 

“This is by far the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,” you stare down at the gaping hole in the floor, which leads directly into a nest of barbed wire. “And we’ve fought evil Russians before.”

“Just savor the moment, Y/N.” Dustin pats your back roughly. “We’re about to successfully trap a Demogorgon.”

–

Your feet tap nervously against the floor of Steve’s car, anxious as ever with your eyes glued to the skyline for any sign of danger. There are so many aspects of the plan that could go horribly wrong. 

Lucas could get hurt distracting the creature, or Mike could trip over his own two feet and fall into the barbed wire pit himself. 

The Demogorgon could completely run past the faux floor and not fall in, leaving you trapped in a house with it.

Or worse, Nancy could miss her only shot at the Demogorgon and fail to implant the telemetry tag, meaning all the work you put in and all the laws you broke would be for nothing.

“This is gonna work.” Dustin reassures the doubts that you don’t voice. 

You stare out the window. “It better work.” 

Holly and El are depending on the plan. 

Their lives are on the line and you’re helpless against the forces that separate you if something goes wrong tonight.

They’re just kids. 

Steve senses your worry and tries to get you to smile. “If this plan doesn’t work and I drilled a giant antenna into my car for nothing, I’m gonna kill Wheeler.”

Despite yourself, you manage a small laugh. “I think it adds character.”

“Hey.” Robin’s voice floats through the walkie. “Talk to me, guys. How’s it looking out there?”

You reach over for the device and respond. “It’s quite over here. How are the Turnbows holding up?”

“They’re still in their ‘food comas’, but I swear to god, this Demo better show up.” Robin huffs out. “If we took out an entire family for nothing, I don’t think my conscience will recover.”

“I’m really tired of committing felonies.”

Robin laughs at this. “Isn’t your boyfriend, like, super well connected with a ton of rich lawyers? I doubt Steve would ever let you anywhere near a jail cell. You’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Damn right.”

You ignore him and continue talking to Robin. Her ability to soothe you with her soft humor comforts you. “His uncle is a lawyer, actually.”

“Even better! Although I do hope that Steve isn’t related to some douchebag who defends rich criminals, even if white collar crime sounds like a Harrington thing to do.” Robin rambles on. “I do think in this case, however, the rich douchebags would be coming for us.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Technically, I think his uncle his legally required to take a few cases pro bono, so maybe he can help us–”

“Shh!” Dustin harshly shushes you, eyes glued to his binoculars.

Your body springs to attention, leaning forward so that you can get a better look at whatever the hell he’s spotted. You squint your eyes, straining to see something, until you finally find it.

The streetlamps are flickering. 

Your fingers find your knives, pressing the base of its handle into your palm. Adrenaline courses through your veins, it rips through your ribcage and sets every cell in your body on fire. 

It’s time.

“I fucking hate doing this.” You spit out, body bracing for an impact yet to come. 

Dustin ignores you while Steve grabs the walkie from your hand.

“I think we’ve got company. It’s going south down Arlington, T-minus thirty seconds.” He informs the others. “Status check. Taggers?” 

“In position and set.” Nancy confirms. “Launcher?” 

Lucas confirms as well. “Set. Catcher?”

“Set.” Mike’s voice crackles through the walkie. “Trackers?”

You, Dustin, and Steve all look at each other. Anticipation hangs in the air.

“Set.” Steve confirms. “Let’s do this thing already.”

The channel goes quiet as everyone prepares for what’s to come. 

One by one the streetlamps flicker to life, a trail of light that slowly ebbs its way to the Turnbow’s house until suddenly the house itself begins to flash wildly. Shadows dance across its porch and windows as the lights rapidly fade in and out.

“It’s inside.” Dustin reveals to Steve. “Minimize chatter.”

He quickly relays the information to the others inside the house. “It’s inside. No one talk.”

You get out of the car, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Your muscles pull taut, aching to be released. 

Will had been right. There’s no turning back now. 

Through the window you’re able to faintly see the outline of the Demogorgon creep inside of Derek’s room. It sniffs the air, head low as it hunts for the prey you know it won’t find. The minute it reaches the foot of Derek’s bed and claws at the decoy, you run. 

Someone has to be the one to ensure Lucas makes it to the living room in time, and you’ve spent all your life running. 

Within seconds you fling the front door open and shout as loud as you can, “Run!”

You hear Lucas attacking the Demogorgon upstairs with gasoline waterballoons. You anxiously wait for him, heart in your throat, and remain on high alert as the kid comes flying down the stairs, narrowly dodging the trip wire as the monster chases him.

Its pained screams tell you the trip wire has worked, and Lucas lands next to you with a loud thud and you quickly scan his body for any injuries. “Are you alright?”

“No time to talk,” he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the living room. “We need to go!”

Just as you start to run, the Demogorgon jumps over the stair’s railing and nearly crushes you both with its body. You scream, shoving Lucas behind you and stab at it with your knives all while Lucas narrowly manages to navigate the two of you to where Mike awaits. 

Then you’re flying through the air, jumping over the carpet that hides the trap beneath it, and somehow, miraculously, the Demogorgon falls into it just as you’ve landed on the couch across. 

Only its claws grip onto the wooden floor, scratching at the panels as it fights its way back up. Mike bludgeons the monster with a shovel in an attempt to get it to surrender to the inevitable. 

“Get him!” You shout alongside Lucas, hands braced on your knives in case you need to use them. 

With one last blow, Mike sends the Demogorgon down into the Turnbow’s basement where the barbed wires and Nancy and Jonathan await. It writhes in pain, stuck in the painful wire, and in its torture it doesn’t see the shotgun that Nancy aims at its defenseless body. 

The shot echoes within the house and embeds the tracker into its thick skin. The Demogorgon doesn’t have time to register its pain before Jonathan throws a lit flare at it, devouring the monster in flames. 

Just as you think the Demogorgon will finally succumb to its wounds, it thows its body back up towards you, Mike, and Lucas as it screeches in pain. The heat of its flame infested body sears your skin as Mike pushes you out of its way, attacking it with his shovel.

“Get him, Mike!” Lucas screams from the other side, unable to do anything else but watch. 

You lunge at the creature, slicing through its armoured skin as you try desperately to ignore the burning sensation that coats the whites of your knuckles. All you focus on is protecting Mike. Nothing else matters.

The Demogorgon unexpectedly throws its body towards Lucas, and you scream his name so loud that it tears through your vocal chords. He only just barely dodges the monster’s attack before a gate tears open in the wall and the Demogorgon slips inside, making its escape.

“It flipped! I repeat, it flipped!” Mike screams into his walkie before frantically turning to you. “Go follow it, now!”

You flee the house with Nancy and Jonathan right behind you. The three of you throw yourselves into the back of Steve’s car, long past the uncomfortable sensation of being so close together as adrenaline eats you alive. 

“Where is it?” Jonathan demands the second he slides into the seat.

Dustin waves his arm around. “Give me a second!”

Everyone shuts up as he carefully angles the antenna to catch any signal he can find. “Bearing northwest and fast.” Dustin tells Steve, signaling him to start driving.

Steve turns the key, but the engine sputters and groans. “C’mon, work with me here.”

“The Demogorgon is tagged and released.” Dustin clings onto the antenna, radioing everyone your every move. “Trackers in pursuit. Repeat, trackers in pursuit.” He gestures wildly at Steve, who still hasn’t gotten the car to start. “Hit it!”

Your body gets thrown against the seat as Steve accelerates down the road far faster than he should. One more law broken tonight.

“Signal is holding. Keep steady… Holding…” Dustin’s eyes never leave the decibel meter until he abruptly instructs, “Turn right!”

“Right?” Bewilderment covers Steve’s face. There isn’t any road to the right.

“Right! Turn right!” A crazed glint overtakes Dustin’s eyes. “Now!”

Not having any time to argue, Steve blindly jerks the steering wheel and barrels through several fences and mailboxes. The car jumps and lurches at every collision and you have to cling desperately onto Nancy and Jonathan to avoid flying through the windshield. 

“Sorry!” Steve shouts over and over with every bush and curb he hits.

Your stomach twists into painful knots as nausea overwhelms you.

You really didn’t miss the car chases. 

“We’re going to crash!” Jonathan wraps you in his arms, barely clinging onto his own seat as Steve hits yet another fence. “Jesus!”

“Dustin said turn right!” Steve screeches back, hitting his head against the roof after the car runs over something else. 

But Dustin ignores the pained screams and panic. Instead he studies the decibel meter and when the signal suddenly seems to weaken, he silences everyone in the car. “Shut up! Stop! We need to stop right here!”

Steve slams on the brakes and Nancy has to catch your body before you face plant into the center console. “Fuck!”

“Goddamn it, Henderson!” Steve hits the steering wheel in frustration. “What are we doing?”

“We lost the signal!” Dustin erratically steers the antenna in every possible direction.

Dread fills your lungs with every passing second. Have you gotten it all wrong? Did Vecna manage to win again? Will Holly’s blood stain your hands the way her mother’s did? The way Max’s stain still lingers?

“I got it!” Dustin’s voice breaks you from your terror. “It’s headed southeast now.”

“Southeast?” That’s the complete other way you were originally going. “Why would it go–”

You’re unable to finish your sentence before Steve propels the car into reverse, following the signal before it’s lost again. “Hang on!”

“But why would it turn around?” You lean forward as far as you dare, hands gripping the seat tightly as you force Dustin to look at you and reckon with the question that haunts you. “Where is it going?”

“I don’t know,” your brother confesses, risking looking away from the decibel meter to catch your eye. “I’m sorry, Y/N. But I don’t know where the hell this thing is going.”

None of it makes sense. “There’s nothing east except…”

Hawkins urban development predominately took over the west side of the city when it was first established. The west is where all the stores, houses, and schools are. 

But east of Hawkins has remained untouched, rural ever since your mother was a child. While the rest of the city grew and expanded, the east kept its trees and farmland.

Then it hits you like a truck. “The farm!”

The Demogorgon is leading you straight towards the McCorkle farm, where Will and others are. It was supposed to be a refuge for them. A place to hide the Turnbows. A place to be utterly defenseless. 

And now there’s a Demogorgon hunting for blood, running right towards them.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎