Spring has always been her favourite season. There's a warm breeze in the air, and everything in Hawkins is blooming. Patty lingers on a particularly pretty bush covered in flowers before pulling her attention back to the street she's driving on. It's only a few more turns before she arrives at her destination, stepping out of the small, yellow car she drives, a car that's been through so much more than it probably should've. The door closes, and Patty wraps her shawl aound herself a little tighter. The house is amidst the forest, just on the edge of the east of Hawkins. It's lively, right now, mostly because of the two trucks standing on the road beside it, and the copious amount of builders walking back and forth from the house to the trucks. Last time she'd seen it, it'd been in a delapitated, abandoned state, and the price for it had been unsurprisingly low. The car door shuts with a dull noise as Patty makes her way towards the former Creel house. It’s been painted in a lovely light blue, not straying from the original colour too far, but looking far more clean than it used to. Renovating cost her a small fortune in comparison to buying the property, but it’d been worth it. She had contemplated this move for years, and now, it had happened. One of the builders spots her with a bright smile- something so different from the way she’d been treated the last time she had lived in this town. Patty smiles back, reaching into the pocket of her brownish, red overalls. The keys have been polished, too, and she attached a pendant to it, a small, shimmering chain of shiny beads and a feather, a gift from her mother. Patty twirls it around in her fingers as she walks up to the porch, greeting the few builders that are walking out of the house. They should be getting done just now, which leaves her alone with the house she’s worked to buy for years. That, and the thoughts she has about her incoming new start in life. The door slides open smoothly, like it was never old and broken. It all feels like it’s almost too much. Seeing the hall clean, warm, homey, it doesn’t feel right. The stairs have been polished, wood gleaming softly in the light of the lamp hanging from the ceiling. She hears a distant goodbye from the builders, and the door clicks shut. Patty takes a breath, slowly, and clutches the pendant on her keys. It’s been almost thirty years since she’s been here, in Hawkins. It has all changed a lot, and she has changed, too, but the strange tug of longing she feels in her chest is the same as always.
She decides to look around the lower floor first. The kitchen feels massive, and so does the dining room. It has a fireplace, and Patty realises she’ll have to learn how to maintain a fire. Her hand slides along the wall as she walks through the hallway towards the stairs, and if she closes her eyes, she’s worried she might fall into a memory with no way out. The steps leading upstairs almost take too long. Her shawl is left hanging on a hook near them, and Patty feels as though she’s a teenager again, sneaking to the second floor, her hand holding another. Her bedroom feels too big for her, but she blames the lack of furniture. Her bed and closet are not nearly big enough to fill it. She’ll have to move some bookshelves. She lingers in that room for a moment, glancing out the window at the trucks slowly driving away outside. She opens the window, letting the light spring wind flow inside, reassuring her as she takes a slow breath. Her eyes travel to the cabinet stood on the opposite side of her room from her bed. It contains some clothes and accessories, and the top of it is decorated with a rather odd choice. Three jars, all of them glass, meticulously cleaned and dusted off by hand. Inside, dried old branches and leaves, flowers and some dried moss. The carefully preserved remains of spiders are kept in those jars- a souvenir of another time, belonging to someone else. Patty gives the jars a fond look before she moves on, walking into the hallway to lower the ladder leading to the attic.
If anyone knew why she’d been longing to go there from the moment she’d been given the house keys, they’d call her odd. She had asked the builders not to touch a single thing there, not to move anything, and graciously, they hadn’t. The ladder thuds heavily against the floor, and Patty has to take another deep breath before climbing up the steps to find herself in the attic. She hadn’t been there since she was a teenager. There’s candles still strewn across the floor, and cobwebs practically everywhere. Patty tries to spot the owner of the webs, but there is no spiders in sight, almost like even the cobwebs are a reminder of a time long past. The floorboards creak beneath her feet as she walks to the middle of the attic. Boxes and suitcases are stacked around here, almost forming a perfect circle. Patty kneels, ignoring the dust that will surely stick to her now, and runs a hand over the floor before her, as if she could remember better what had occured here if she touched the ground she’d one sat on with Henry.
Part of her thinks she must’ve lost it. Or be in the process of losing it, because Patty isn’t sure what she’s doing when she closes her eyes. She tries to steady her breathing, her racing heart, and silences the voice of doubt in her head. ❝ Henry? ❞ She definitely feels stupid. She’s an adult now, and yet, she’s still trying what a teenager in love would do. Then again, this isn’t the first time she’s talked to herself in her attempts to reach him. She goes about it the way she usually would- pretending like she’s telling him things, as if he’s sat beside her again. ❝ I’m not sure if.. you can hear me. Or if you’re there. But I hope you are. I know, I- ❞ Patty pauses, keeping her eyes closed as her hands fold in her lap. ❝ I owe you an apology. I was supposed to come back sooner, and I wanted to, but I couldn’t. But I should’ve tried, and I didn’t, and that means I failed you. ❞ She sighs. Many years ago, she still cried whenever she did this, but now, the ache is internalised. ❝ I know you’re somewhere out there, even if I’m not sure where. But I just.. wanted to let you know that I’m here. If you can hear me. ❞ Patty bites her lip, a pang of guilt stinging in her chest. ❝ I’m here, and I know I’m late, but I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again. I, uh- I miss you. I still do. ❞ The confession spills out of her like it always does when she does this, followed by another, also a regular occurence. ❝ And I love you. Always will. ❞ Patty trails off, exhaling shakily and letting the silence calm her down. What else can she do?
@firstcurse the starter for Henry / Vecna as discussed 🩷













