#honeyoru

Steve had left a message with your mom earlier, said he’d swing by after his closing shift. The others? Who knew where. A grimace tugged at your mouth. You weren’t entirely convinced half of them would even care that you were back.

You rubbed your eyes, too tired and jet-lagged to keep the memories at bay. With a shudder, you shoved them down as another craving for a cigarette crawled through your brain. You shot your eyes upward when a wave of students spilled out of the gym.

Some welcome-back party. Hopper had promised a blowout the day you left, and here you were: alone in a cold parking lot with a headache brewing behind your eyes.

Your mom had barely waited for you to drop your bags before shoving you and your coat back out the door, insisting you go pick up your brother. You’d only agreed to avoid another crying session—she’d already had one at the airport, one in the car, and another when she declared that you “looked so much healthier now.”

Claudia Henderson crying was your personal kryptonite, and guilt still twisted in your stomach at the reminder that it was all your fault this even happened to begin with.

More students poured out, flashes of green and gold everywhere. A basketball game must’ve just ended. 

You scowled. Volleyball never got that kind of turnout. You swung one foot and nodded at a few familiar faces. Their gawking didn’t surprise you. Your reputation last semester had handled that. A couple of kids gave you a once-over. You rolled your eyes.

Probably the hair, you thought with a snort, popping your gum obnoxiously. Or the fact I don’t look like a zombie anymore.

You refused to admit it, but you were glad you hadn’t changed out of your travel outfit—beige trousers, white sweater, brown coat, and the Italian leather boots you’d treated yourself to before leaving Europe. You looked put-together for the first time in a long time. A tiny, vain part of you appreciated the confidence boost. 

The sudden clang of a door across from you jerked you out of your thoughts. It swung open wildly as a group of teens yelled over each other, likely talking about the game they had just finished.

“Thirty minutes late,” you grumbled to yourself, scanning for your brother. Jet lag was a bitch, and you were about to become one too if he didn’t start hustling.

You spotted Mike and your brother on the outskirts of the crowd, laughing at something an older boy said. Mike noticed you first—long limbs stuttering to a stop before a huge grin broke out. You snorted. 

Someone had a growth spurt.

Dustin followed his gaze, froze, then shouted your name like a question before sprinting toward you, grinning so wide it hurt to look at. “Holy shit, you’re back!”

You hopped off the car just in time for him to crash into you. “Hey, Dusty,” you whispered, hiding your face in his curls to blink back tears. “Surprise.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming home till later." He squeezed you. "I missed you so much.”

“Not enough to write every week.” You pulled back, raising a playful eyebrow to soften the sting you still felt at his sporadic letters. “Guess you’re too busy now that you’re a big high-schooler, huh?”

“You look… really great!” Mike blurted, shoving a distraught Dustin aside for his own hug. His face flushed as his eyes flicked from your sweater to your pants.

“Dude. Ew.” Dustin wiped his eyes and glared. “Don’t look at her like that.” He turned back to you, rubbing his eyes. “And I wasn’t too busy. It’s just… a lot happened while you were gone and I—” He faltered, guilt clear as day. “We weren’t sure how to tell you. Writing about it made me want to tell you everything, so I… didn’t.”

Your eyebrows pinched. “What?” Panic darted through your chest. “Something happened?” you whispered, glancing at the group behind them. “Who’s ‘we’? Do you mean the party? Did something bad happen?”

He winced.“Welll—”

“Why are we congregating, fellow freaks?” a familiar voice boomed. The door behind them slammed open, rebounded, and promptly smacked the intruder in the face.

You froze.

A boy with wild curls you knew far too well stumbled out. He said your last name softly, like the air had just been punched out of him.

Eddie Munson took a step towards you like he was being pulled, barely reacting to the door as his eyes landed on you. His gaze swept over you, bold and unhurried, darkening as it went. 

“You’re back.”

Biting back a nasty comment, you cursed yourself for having a lapse in judgment about just who the Hellfire Dungeon Master was. 

“I made her smile!” he cried. “We haven’t seen those pearly whites in a while, oh, fuck,” he wiped an imaginary tear. “My heart can’t take it.”

A gag came from your left. “Ew man, that’s my sister!” 

“Chill, dude, s’not like she’s mine–” 

He was cut off by a sharp smack to the back of his head from the taller boy beside him, whose eyes hadn’t left you once. You only noticed because—against your better judgment—you were still staring too.

He might’ve looked the same, but his expression wasn’t. Something in it was softer. Hesitant. You realized, distantly, that being abroad really had changed you. Last year’s version of yourself would’ve cursed him out by now.

“The boots,” the Dungeon Master finally said, making your eyebrows raise. “It’s those, um… boots.”

“My… boots.” you repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” he gestured toward them. “Super European. Totally different from what you used to wear.”

 “Are you serious?” Grant repeated incredulously. “You could’ve mentioned her hair is platinum blonde now! Practically white!”

“And shorter!” Jeff added with a smile.

“But just as gorgeous as ever,” Gareth sang, dodging another hit.

“Time to go, kids,” you rolled your eyes at the group of idiots, most of whom you hadn’t spoken to long before you left in May. Except for Gareth, who refused to leave you alone. “I’m not doing this on two hours of sleep. Let’s go.” You flicked Dustin’s hat and turned, and turned toward your car. “Now.”

The kids ran ahead, shouting their goodbyes. You lagged behind, pausing when you heard your name.

Eddie stood alone, the rest of the club having quickly dispersed without you there to irritate. Looking pensive, he twisted a familiar ring on his finger and offered a small smile. “You look good. Welcome home.”

Your heart defrosted a little more as you walked away, unable to say anything back. 

~~~~

“Alright,” you said after the kids were buckled up and Eddie was out of sight. You could spiral about seeing him later. “Spill.”

“Um,” Dustin stammered from the passenger seat. “I think we should wait until everyone’s together.” 

“Everyone?” you repeated, suddenly realizing there should be more passengers in your car. You looked back towards the school. “Wait, where’s the rest of you?”

“What?” 

You squinted your eyes at him. “The rest of you, Dustin! I know you two weren’t the only ones who joined Hellfire. Will? Lucas?” You chuckled as you peeled out of the parking lot. “Honestly, I half-expected Max and El to be in it too. Thought you’d wear them down by now.”

The two shared a quick glance. 

“Lucas is part of the club, but he was at the basketball game,” Mike said slowly. 

“That’s right!” you grinned. God, you’d missed them. Therapy and time abroad had made it painfully clear how much you’d pushed everyone away last year. You weren’t doing that again. “I remember Steve mentioning that in a letter. Guess I’ll have to go to the games now.” You frowned. 

“Hey,” you said when they stayed quiet. “Don’t worry,” ruffling Dustin’s hair, assuming their silence was about you. “I’m better now. Europe really treated me well.”

They rushed to reassure you. “It’s not that at all,” your brother insisted. “I just really missed seeing you like this and…” his lip quivered. 

“We don’t want to ruin your good mood,” Mike finished, giving a sad smile in the rearview mirror.

“Tell me what happened. How’s Will?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“He, well,” Dustin began, and your heart rate jumped.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. He’s fine! Great, I think,” he said hurriedly.

You made a noise and turned left at a stoplight. “You think?”

“It’s just that… the Byers’ sort of,” he winced. “Moved.”

“Moved?!” you shrieked, slamming on your brakes. The boys were thankful you always insisted they wore seatbelts as they flew forward. “What the fuck do you mean they moved?”

“First of all, thank God the roads are empty,” your brother wheezed, holding his arms out like you were a wounded animal. “I refuse to die in a car accident after everything we’ve been through, that’d be so lame. Secondly,” he looked at you with his puppy dog eyes. “Let me call a party meeting. Steve wanted to give you a week to settle in, but that’s all gone to shit now.”

“Steve?” Dread filled you. “Oh, fuck.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Something Upside Downy happened.”

“Just a little bit!” Mike insisted. “It’s not as bad as you think!” 

Dustin spun around, outrage on his face. “Really, Mike? Because I feel like maybe it was a little bad.”

“Anything Upside Downy is bad!” you hissed, blinking rapidly. “Will you just fucking tell me?” Anxiety clawed at you, threatening a panic attack.

The breathing exercises you’d nearly perfected flickered through your mind—until Dustin interrupted.

“We’re gonna tell you everything,” your brother said, resting a hand on your arm and yanking it back when your eyes flashed at him. “But not until everyone’s together.” He grabbed his walkie, flicked up the antenna, and started barking orders like a general. You tore down sleepy Hawkins, far above the speed limit.

                ~~~~~~

Mrs. Wheeler exclaimed your name when she opened the door, beaming. “You’re back!”

“I’m back!” you said weakly, as she pulled you into a hug. You fought to hold onto the composure you’d gained abroad.

She paused, frowning at her husband. “Ted, look who’s here!”

“Oh, yay,” he muttered dryly, barely glancing at you. 

You rolled your eyes. At least some things hadn’t changed. You sent Mrs. Wheeler a polite smile, clapped Dustin on the shoulder, and shoved him toward the basement. “Let’s get this shit show started.”

Nancy came down first, and hugged you tightly, rapid-fire questions spilling from her as you answered with constrained patience. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a normal chat with her. Vaguely, you recalled beaming a hairbrush at her the last time you saw her.

Lucas bounded down next, clad in his Hawkins basketball sweatsuit, and enveloped you in a hug. “Damn, Sinclair,” you whistled, making his cheeks heat up. “You’re almost my height now. What are they feeding you?”

You looked towards the stairs when you parted, surprised that the last two kids of the party, sans Will, weren’t here yet. “Are El and Max running late? I know about the Byers’ moving, but where are my girls?” you smiled at the thought of them. “They made me promise to tell them all about the boys in Italy when I came back.” 

“Uh, no, they’re not,” Lucas said, his face dropping as he glanced at Mike and Dustin. “You guys didn’t tell her?”

“Honestly!” Your brother threw his hands up. “What do you think we’re here for?”

You were just about to pinch him when one of your favorite voices in the world caught your attention. “–Henderson!”  

Your heart leaped, your feet scrambling up the stairs to meet your best friend halfway in a hug before you could even think. The familiar smell of Steve Harrington draped over you like a warm blanket as he practically knocked you over.  You mumbled into his chest. “Glad to see you haven’t forgotten about me.”

“Yeah right,” he pulled you back at arm’s length with a laugh, practically vibrating with happiness at seeing you. “All I did was complain for eight months! I had to put up with Shitbird twice as much just so I could get my Henderson fill.”

Both of you ignored Dustin’s noise of complaint.

“Nice vest,” you commented, noticing the Family Video logo he now wore. “Scoops get too boring for you? Was the hat finally too much?”

“You know that hat was awful,” he said, tugging you back in for another hug. “We’ll get to that in a minute.”

“Great,” you muttered, dread creeping back.

Steve pulled back slightly. “Look at your hair,” he cooed softly, tugging at a lock and smiled softly, his eyes telling a much deeper story of how he was feeling than what he would say in front of the kids. Your heart ached when you saw him blinking away tears.  “You look healthy, Henderson. Europe really did you well.”

“Yeah, well,” you coughed, giving a small smile. “I needed something different. My therapist said hair holds memories.” Clearing your throat, you added, “not too many good ones with my long hair you know. Wanted a fresh start.”

His smile faltered for a second, then returned. “And the blonde?”

“Dyed it on a whim after a ton of vodka.” Something creaked behind Steve, interrupting your laughter and you noticed someone was hovering on the stairs. You did a double-take upon recognizing the girl who looked like she wanted to fold in on herself. “Buckley? What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Oh!” she flustered, hurrying down and fussing with her vest, identical to Steve’s. “Well, that little nightmare over there called the store and insisted we were having a party meeting, so uh present?” she winced. “Your hair, um, looks really pretty,” she added with a hint of pink creeping up her cheeks. “By the way.” 

“Thanks.” You’ve known the girl for years, having been acquaintances throughout school and then growing into sort of friends by association when she and Steve started working at the ice cream shop. “So you got dragged into this mess, too, huh?” 

“It’s my own fault for choosing a summer job at the mall,” she responded, laughing nervously. “But hey, now that we’re at Family Video, Dingus and I get free movies and there’s been significantly fewer Russians to torture us there, so I think it’s going pretty well.”

“I’m sorry,” the small smile that you’d perfected abroad slipped off your face, all traces of your polite friendliness disappearing. “Did you just say Russians?”  

Dustin sighed, pulling you toward the couch. “Sit down, sis. You probably shouldn’t be standing right now.”

~~~~~~~

Blindsided. 

Staring down at your bloody palms, you barely felt the pain from where your nails had dug in too hard during the group’s briefing.

You were completely, utterly blindsided.

Numbly, you allowed Nancy to wipe your hands with a paper towel, aware of the tension as they all stared uneasily at each other, silently expecting the same meltdown that had driven you to leave for Europe eight months ago to happen again. You were staring at them all, waves of anger, guilt, grief threatening to undo everything you’d fixed abroad.

At least there’s not a hairbrush nearby this time.

You squeezed your eyes shut, counting backward from ten, repeating the mantra your therapist had drilled into you: The kids are safe. My friends are safe. There’s no more danger.

The kids are safe. You told yourself, opening your eyes and staring at the sorrow-filled eyes of your little brother and his friends.

My friends are safe. Your best friend bit his lip anxiously, shaking his head to cut Mike off when the kid opened his mouth to fill the silence. 

There’s no more danger.

You wanted to snort. As fucking if. That part hadn’t been your idea, for obvious reasons, but the government therapist that had been assigned to you insisted. 

“Russians… infiltrated Hawkins… and reopened the gate,” you said quietly, still staring at the floor.

The kids are safe. My friends are safe. There’s no more danger.

Lucas cleared his throat. “And the Mind Flayer… that also happened.”

“Right,” you muttered, letting out a disbelieving laugh. You stared at the floor, shocked, but not surprised that yet another monster had made its way through to your dimension. Only after accumulating a mass of Hawkins flesh, which nearly caused you to hurl when Dustin described it in deep, gory detail. “And the Mind Flayer.” 

The kids are safe. My friends are safe. There’s no more danger.

“She’s taking this better than you said she would,” Robin whispered loudly to Steve. The nasty look you shot towards her caused the girl to lean back with her mouth shut in seconds. 

Just exactly how close were they now? 

Steve knelt down cautiously, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You understand why we couldn’t tell you, right?”

You prided yourself on being logical, or as logical as one could be when they’ve fought monsters and know a girl with superpowers. You knew they were probably threatened by the government, just like you were last time. And you knew how hard it must have been to keep this secret from you.

And yet, you really didn’t care.

“You want me to say I understand?” you whispered incredulously, eyes blazing. “You lied to me, you all lied to me!” you swept your glare around the room. “For months!” 

Logic be damned, the sting of betrayal was too harsh to consider their feelings. 

“It’s not so much that we lied to you as just… we didn't tell you,” Dustin tried to say, recoiling back when you looked at him.

“Lying by omission is still lying!” you yelled. “Mom literally says that all the time!” 

He hung his head. 

“I’m not stupid. I know our phones are tapped and any letters you sent were probably searched, but you could’ve said something!” you screamed at your brother. “The handful of times you actually did write to me, you only talked about the thousands of dates Steve went on–”

“–thousand is a bit of an overstatement–”

“– but never anything about what happened in July or El and the Byers’ moving or you know,” you waved your hand hysterically, a stray tear falling out. “Hopper dying! How could none of you tell me that?” your voice cracked as you directed the question to Steve. It hurt most that he hadn’t told you of the man passing away. “How could you?”

Steve’s face twisted in guilt. You swallowed hard to keep from collapsing at the thought of Hopper. 

“I could’ve come back!” you said, your tone conveying your despair. “Fuck, I would’ve come back! Sure, I wouldn’t have made it back in time to punch a Russian or throw a firework at a monster or whatever,” you scoffed. “But I could’ve been here to help after, I could’ve said goodbye to the Byers and El! I-” you broke off, a sob finally escaping your mouth, your hands covering your face as you started to cry, words slipping out in a whisper. “I could’ve gone to Hopper’s funeral.”

That explained why I didn’t receive any letters from him after June, you realized with a sniff.  He had died a couple months after you left.

Pushing that thought down for later, you closed your eyes to avoid bursting into tears again at the mournful expression on Steve’s face. 

“Shit hit the fan again, just like I said it would,” you sniffed, standing abruptly as fury and despair leaked into your words. You began pacing, fists clenching and unclenching. “And I was told I was just paranoid—that I was being crazy,” you spat, glaring at Nancy, who shrank under your gaze.

“I told Hopper. I told Joyce. I told them that monsters that evil don’t just disappear—they lick their wounds and wait. Closing a portal doesn’t kill them. And what did they say?” Your voice rose, sweeping across the room in disbelief. “Go to school! Be a normal teenager! Forget all of this even happened!”

A bitter laugh ripped from your chest. “So forgive me for being a little upset that I just found out my baby brother and all of my friends had to fight goddamn Russians and another inter-dimensional monster while I was in Europe dyeing my fucking hair!”

The group winced in unison at the pitch you reached.

“You needed to stay away,” Steve said gently, stepping closer, his hands hovering near your shoulders but not touching. “You left for a reason. No one blames you for not being here.”

Weak. You thought. I wasn’t here because I’m weak. 

“Babe, what we’ve dealt with…” Nancy’s voice was soft but raw. “It’s a lot. We all handle it differently. Last year… we were proud of you for doing what you needed, even if it meant leaving us. Even if we weren’t the best at supporting you. But we’re sorry.” Her voice cracked, and tears shone in her eyes. “I’m… so sorry I didn’t tell you about Hopper. It’s just, your letters said you were doing so well.” 

“We didn’t want to ruin your program,” Dustin sniffed. 

You stared at the floor. I’m so selfish for leaving. You thought of Hopper, who had been the one to encourage you to go abroad in the first place. I left him here to die. 

“I want to go home,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I… I can’t do this. I thought… fuck.” You let out a scoff, voice cracking. “I actually thought everything would be better now.”

“It is!” Dustin said quickly, his earnestness almost painful. “El closed the gate, for good this time!”

“The Mind Flayer,” Lucas added. “And all of the Russians, they’re gone too! It’s finally over.”

You stared at them sadly and wiped your eyes. Too young. We’re all too young.

“That gate might be closed,” you said slowly, voice quiet, almost to yourself. “But that world is still out there. And what if there's other gates we don’t know about?”

“What do you mean?” Steve frowned. 

“How did the Russians even find out about the Upside Down?” you asked seriously, eyes narrowing. “And just because the Hawkins gate is shut doesn’t mean the creatures there are gone. Fighting monsters three times in three years isn’t a coincidence. It’s a pattern. A routine.”

You wiped your face again, swallowing hard. Jet lag and raw emotion dragged at your body, and you refused to sink everyone else further into the weight of it. “Let’s go, Dustin. I need to… process everything,” you muttered, turning toward the stairs. “I’m too tired to say ‘I told you so’ right now.”

“Henderson,” Steve rushed behind you. “You’re not retreating into yourself again, you can’t.” He frowned up at you, worry etched deep into his face. “Not after all the progress you’ve made.”

You didn’t respond, all but running out of the Wheeler house a changed person from the one who’d come in earlier.

Behind you, Steve and the others called your name, voices thick with concern, but you didn’t stop.

The drive home with Dustin was heavy. He was uncharacteristically quiet, stealing worried glances at you from the passenger seat. Your stomach churned as the full weight of everything they’d told you finally settled in.

The moment you were home, you bolted upstairs two at a time. Dustin was already talking to your mom, spinning some half-baked excuse about the mall fire and you knowing some of the victims—anything to keep her from following you.

You made a beeline for your bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you heaved, sobs tearing through you as your body shook.

Hopper. And Billy too. Even though you disliked him immensely, he died an awful, horrific way. You couldn’t imagine how El felt. Max too.

You ignored the soft knocks at your door, your baby brother’s voice muffled with worry, unable to face him until you could face your own reflection in the morning.

I’ll never forgive myself for leaving.

You sank to the shower floor, letting the water beat down on you until it turned icy, tears streaming freely. Grief, guilt, and exhaustion tangled together until they left you hollow.

author's note:

new year new me new story

I was interested in delving deeper into the mind of a character who maybe is not chill with the whole "fighting monsters" thing in the ST universe. I sure as hell would not be okay going back to math class when I've tussled with a demogorgan.

All at once the other kids fluttered around the pair excitedly, saying how cool her new look was and how badass her fighting had been. 

“It’s not like I killed most of them or anything,” you muttered playfully, smiling when El stuck her tongue out at you. 

“Wait,” Mike pulled away from the girl, sharply looking at you. “You know her?”

You scowled back.

“She has to,” Dustin insisted, gesturing towards the front lawn. “They hugged!” 

“I knew it!” Nancy cried, flushing when you simply raised your eyebrow in return. 

“Gold stars for all of you,” you rolled your eyes, too exhausted to say anything snarkier. You jerked in surprise as Hopper strided over to you, inspecting you at arm's length.

“Never do that again,” he mumbled, pulling your shocked form into a hug. He leaned back, unaware of your frozen state, and turned to El, gesturing at her new appearance. “The hell is all this? Where have you been?” he asked with a weary look your way that promised a long talk later, grabbing the girl for a hug as well.

“She went on a… field trip?” you offered. 

She nodded from his arms. “To Chicago.”

Hopper’s eyes bulged. 

“It was windy,” El supplied unhelpfully. 

“What the hell?” Mike yelled at Hopper before the older man had a chance to react properly. “You’ve been hiding her, all this time?” His face turned bright red, tears of joy quickly warped to anger. 

“Hey!” Hopper tried responding to no avail, for the boy had begun hitting him. Letting go of El, he grabbed Mike’s arm. “C’mon, let’s talk. Alone,” Hopper growled, yanking him into Joyce’s empty bedroom.

The tension quickly dissolved as El went to the other kids, pointedly ignoring Max’s introduction to hug Dustin and Lucas. 

You frowned, remembering the fit of jealousy you had witnessed before at the school. You were making a mental note to chastise her privately later when a hand touched your elbow. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Steve looked down at you with concern after you jolted uneasily at the touch, gesturing to your leg that the dog had clawed. “Do you need help cleaning that? Not to brag, but I’m kind of a pro at treating monster injuries now,” he joked.

You blinked owlishly at him, unable to keep the confusion off of your face. “What?” you finally asked, unsure of the boy’s reason for wanting to help you. Earlier in the car, Hopper had instructed him to help, but now? He had no reason to. 

His smile wavered as you stood, staring at him like a sleep-deprived, emotionally-stunted idiot. Which, to be fair, you were.

No one is kind to you for free, your mother taunted you from decades in the future. These people don’t know you, she would say.They don’t know what you’ve done. 

With a quick glance towards Nancy, who stood whispering with Jonathan, you looked back at Steve with a fresh pair of eyes, concluding he was probably just doing it to get back at his ex. 

Which meant you missed the panicked look that graced his face when you failed to respond.

“Sorry,” he paused. “You can probably handle it, right? I mean, of course you can,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “You just annihilated those things back there. I don’t really know too much about first aid aside from what they teach you in lifeguarding,” he continued, unaware of the (completely unwanted) image of a shirtless Steve that involuntarily popped into your brain. “But I just thought you could use some help…”

You swallowed hard, willing the vicious thoughts in your mind away. "Um, yeah." After you cleared your throat, you waved towards the bathroom in what you hoped looked indifferent. “Lead the way, Nurse.”

A soft shuffling echoed behind you, and a slight look over your shoulder made you aware that Max had joined your journey to the bathroom as well. You said nothing, scooting onto the bathroom counter and leaning against the mirror as she perched on the edge of the tub, watching the boy dig through Joyce’s haphazardly stocked first aid kit. 

Your eyes fluttered closed before opening slightly. What I wouldn’t give for a nap.

“Any more injuries and you’ll have to start billing us,” Steve joked, pulling out the necessary cleaning supplies and kneeling down to take a closer look at the leg where the demodog had dug its claws into. “Can’t have you maiming yourself to save us all the time,” he glanced up at your relaxed form with a teasing grin. “Even though you look like you’re having the time of your life when you’re fighting something.” 

“What can I say? I love the thrill,” you smiled. “Keep patching me up and you’ll have to bill me.”

Max rolled her eyes. 

His smile dropped at the injury, and he let out a low whistle. “Damn that cut is deep. How does it feel?”

“Will it be infected?” Max leaned in close to see too, her nose wrinkling. “It looks like it might get infected.”

“It’ll be fine,” you huffed. “Barely stings.”

That was a lie, of course. But you’d had worse. 

Steve and Max shared a look. 

“So,” the girl hummed. “You knew Eleven already.”

“El,” you corrected her and shrugged. “Only for a while. I’m no snitch, especially when the government is involved.”

“Glad she had someone to keep her company then,” Steve mused, looking up from his spot on the ground. He carefully cleaned the jagged cut, taking note of the way your jaw slightly clenched. “It must have been lonely for her, living with just Hopper for so long.”

“Joyce came around sometimes,” you sighed. “Talked about the kids a lot. Told me all about the monster from last year too.”

Max scoffed. “One monster is enough for me,” she said, watching Steve place a large Snoopy bandage on your leg. “So that’s how you know everyone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed of their own accord, unable to remain expressionless when you looked down at where Steve’s hands were still hovering near your leg, frozen as his breath just slightly hit your calf. 

Suddenly, you felt wide awake. 

You tried your best not to choke on your spit and looked down at her, hoping your cheeks weren’t noticeably burning. Your brain was a little fuzzy. A cute boy breathes on my leg and I turn to jello, you thought irritatedly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you recognized them at the junkyard,” Max explained, sharp eyes on your face. “After they said their names.”

Clever girl. Nodding innocuously, you played along, telling them how Joyce had mentioned bits and pieces of everyone to you in your time spent at the cabin. 

She hummed at the stories, deciding to let it go. “So how are you going to kill the rest of the dogs?” 

“No clue,” you yawned, carefully hopping off the counter as Steve closed the first aid kit. “Think I came too late in the game to make any crucial planning decisions for this party, that’s all Hopper and Joyce. I’m just the muscle,” you winked, smiling when she snorted. “Let’s go find out.”

The three of you padded back into the living room, joining the rest of the group. Dustin and Lucas waggled their eyebrows towards you and Steve before quickly lowering their gaze as Max walked over to them. 

“The place is crawling with those dogs now,” you heard Hopper telling El, hands on his hips. “It’s way more dangerous than last time. She took out a lot, but there’ll be more crawling up from that shithole.”

“I know,” El clenched her fists, nodding determinedly. “I can do it.” 

“Wait,” you looked quickly between the two. “We’re going back?”

She nodded. “The gate has to be closed.” A shudder ran through you at the thought of her going there, seeing all of the carnage you and the dogs had left in those halls. 

“You're not hearing me,” Hopper said. 

“I'm hearing you,” El insisted. “I can do it.”

“Even if you can,” Dustin said, shaking his head. “There’s still another problem.”

Lucas and Mike looked at each other, the latter sighing in frustration. “If the brain dies…” 

“...the body dies,” Lucas finished and nervously glanced at everyone.

The boys are all so in tune with one another, you mused. 

“I thought that was the whole point,” Hopper’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do we not want it to die?”

“We do,” Mike replied. “But if we’re really right about this. I mean,” he paused, looking at his friend (girlfriend? You’d have to ask El later if you didn’t die) worriedly. “If she closes the gate and kills his army then Will…” he trailed off. 

“Will’s a part of that army,” you realized, looking at Joyce. “It might kill him too.”

The silence was tense for a few minutes, until the woman suddenly snapped her fingers. “He likes it cold!” 

She blinked at the various expressions of confusion before explaining. “It's what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Joyce ran a hand through her hair, almost frantically. “We keep… giving it what it wants. If this is a virus, and Will's the host, then we need to make the host uninhabitable.”

“If he likes it cold,” Nancy began, crossing her arms and glancing at Jonathan worriedly. “Then…”

The older boy let out a shuddered breath, looking at the wall that he knew his brother lay on the other side of. “Then we need to burn it out of him.”

“It has to be somewhere Will doesn’t know,” you mused, sweeping your gaze across the room. “The Mind Flayer… it’ll fight back and show no mercy, especially if you’re kicking it out of its host.” You made eye contact with Hopper knowingly. And if it’s Henry, who knows what he’ll do.

….............

“You’ll go down Mason Avenue,” Hopper told Jonathan hurriedly, instructing him on how to drive to the cabin. Joyce stood anxiously nearby. “Your mom has been there before so she can get you through all the traps.”

“Traps?” you heard Nancy whisper incredulously to the older Byers boy.

“El,” you pulled her aside while Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce carried Will out to their car, leaving to put their part of the plan in motion. “The lab,” you said. “Are you sure you can do this? It’s not that I don’t believe in you,” you explained with a slight grin when she opened her mouth, no doubt ready to argue. “But I was there earlier and it’s… not pretty. It might be too much for you.”

“I saw my sister in Chicago,” she said, much to your surprise. “She taught me how to… confront my pain, to use it,” she closed her eyes. “I will be okay.” 

“Well I’ll be there to help,” you smiled reassuringly at her, faltering when she shook her head. 

“No, you’re not coming with us."

You scoffed in disbelief. “As fucking if!” 

She said your name impatiently, willing you to listen. “With me closing the gate, and the Mind Flayer getting burned out of Will, what if more dogs get sent to go after everyone else?” 

“I’m sorry,” you laughed without humor. “But what the fuck?” you turned angrily towards Hopper. “It’s bad enough she’s going at all, but you expect me to just stay here?”

“Geez, tell us how you really feel,” Dustin muttered.

The glare you shot him made him squeak. 

“I’m the strongest one here,” you said matter-of-factly, turning back to the two. “And I should be the only one going. Both of you should stay here!”

“Yes!” Mike nodded. “Let her go instead.” He shrank back at the look of betrayal on El’s face. “El, I can’t lose you again!”

Hopper rubbed his hand down his face. “Would it help if I said I want neither of you to go?”

You scoffed once more for good measure. Furiously, you ground your teeth together, fighting the urge to ignore them and just teleport to the lab on your own. You never teleported that far before, but you’d been successful with it all day. “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m just staying here!”

El tugged at your arm, her eyes shining with emotion as she whispered your name again, ignoring the man completely. “I can do this. I know I can. I wasn’t here earlier and you…” she paused, looking down. “You’re the one who saved them before. I saw everything in the void. It was a long bus ride!” She blushed at your raised eyebrow. “It’s just,” El hesitated, looking at the remainder of the group. “They can’t fight those dogs without you, all they have is… that.” She wrinkled her nose at Steve, who cradled his nail-covered weapon protectively like she’d just insulted his child.  

“So you stay here then,” you argued loudly, gripping her shoulders. “El, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t here before—”

“—it matters to me!”

“What matters is that you’re all safe.” She looked like she was about to cry, and you couldn’t help but soften your tone. “You don’t make decisions like this just because you want to prove yourself. And you,” you looked pointedly with irritation at Hopper. “Don’t encourage her to. I’m the outsider the one who doesn't belong here,” you stood up straight. “I’m the one who goes.”

“I don’t need to prove myself,” the girl hissed back. “And you’re not an outsider, idiot.”

You almost wanted to laugh, she’d never called you that before. Is this what having a little sister is like?

She lifted her chin. “I’m different now, stronger now thanks to you. I can do this. And I know you could too,” she added. “But you've been fighting all day with basically no help.” You both rolled your eyes at the nonsensical retorts of Steve and the other two boys.

“You do look like shit,” Hopper inserted unhelpfully.

You all but growled at the man. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Let the short stack take this one,” your head whipped over to the soft voice of the other older kid in the room. Steve said your name with a hint of worry, flinching a little at the look of rage you gave him. “She's still full of energy. You’re exhausted.”

“You nearly fell asleep in the bathroom,” Max agreed. 

“Then I’ll drink a Red Bull!” you snapped at them, taking notice of the baffled looks on the faces around you. Maybe Red Bull hasn't been invented yet. 

“She’ll have me, kid.” Hopper decidedly ignored your slip up. “I’ll fight off the dogs, do most of the heavy lifting,” he said. “You stay here, rest for a bit, and make sure they don’t do anything stupid. Because knowing them,” he grumbled. “They probably will.”

Every ounce of your body resisted letting her go at all, let alone without you there. 

You relented after a silent staredown with El, finally pulling her into a tight hug even though all of your internal warning bells were going off. “Please stay safe.” 

 “You too,” she looked at you earnestly and walked over to Mike. 

Hopper grabbed his gun, clapped you on the shoulder, and nodded at Steve. “You’re in charge,” he told the two of you. “Time to go.” 

And they trudged around the slain bodies of the dogs, into Hopper’s truck, and out the driveway.

--------------

The villagers of Torappu Island didn’t view pirates too fondly, apart from Orion. She and her brother always had a fascination with them ever since meeting a crew in their earlier days, long before her brother had gone missing in the sea, before her parents looked at her with contempt, before she tamped down the burning desire to escape to somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was off of this island.

Her eye twitched just a small amount, something she was proud of given her innate desire to snap back at him. She dipped her head. “Yes father,” she responded in a monotone voice, careful to mask her irritation behind a dry piece of bread. Hurriedly, she swallowed, allowing her eyes to flicker towards the framed photo adorning the wall, the only one of its kind in the house. The girl silently bid her late brother’s portrait farewell, knowing he would no doubt be rolling his eyes at their father’s tone if he were here. 

With a thump her backpack settled against her shoulder blades, bouncing as she left the house. She offered a muted goodbye to her parents that went unanswered, not that she expected them to say anything anyways.

No one mentions her birthday.

_______________________

The walk to the town square was pleasant, all things considered. 

Sure, it meant she had to push a heavy cart full of metal items up a hill, but a breeze blew her hair back gently, offering a reprieve from the heat that would no doubt creep up later this afternoon. A smile graced Orion’s face when she remembered she wouldn’t have to tiptoe around her parents until later tonight.

She was free, at least for a handful of hours. 

Torappu Island wasn’t a hidden gem, a slice of paradise, or a particularly interesting place of note. It was an island settled in the West Blue that occasionally got business from travelers passing through, simple as that. The Navy had a base further out east but didn’t patrol here as often. They didn’t need to. Nothing of note ever happened. 

The town square that held the market had a few dozen stalls. Orion arrived when the sun still hadn't risen yet, giving polite greetings to the other merchants as she passed. 

Her family’s stall was in the middle of the plaza, settled between a fishmonger and a tarot reader. She opened it promptly, pulling out the metal goods her father expertly created (something her brother used to help with) and laid them out in the exact way that had been drilled into her.

She ran over one of the newly-crafted swords with an oil-soaked cloth, a process she’d done thousands of times. It’s better to polish before selling, her father’s words floated through her mind out of habit. It makes the blades shine brighter for potential buyers. 

The first half of the day went by quickly, and far, far too easily. 

She should have been wary.

More travelers than usual were flowing in and out of the market; Orion felt like she could hardly breathe in between flashing polite smiles to them all. 

“Looks like Mommy and Daddy let their troll out of the dungeon for the day.”

She sighed. 

The day had been going too well, it seemed. Tango, a tall teen who had a face littered with acne and an unfortunately beautiful smile, smirked at her.

“Horatio,” she called out sweetly to the old man running the fish stall. “Your fish seem to be incredibly potent today.” Her nose wrinkled as she took a few sniffs, turning towards the teen who had an intense pleasure in tormenting her. “Oh wait, never mind!” Orion widened her eyes in false surprise, giving a sneer back. “It’s just him.”

She clocked a group of loud, rowdy men exiting the bar a little ways away. Potential customers.  

Orion needed the idiot to skedaddle quickly if she wanted to make a sale. “Please do us all a favor and leave,” the girl sent a glare to the couple of boys flanking him, waving them away. “No one needs you three spreading whatever disease you’ve got going on to the rest of us.”

Predictably, Tango scowled, his hand covering one of his cheeks in embarrassment. “It’s acne and it’s normal!” His hand went for a pistol on his waist, something he’d threatened her with at least a dozen times this year already. Though she doubted he’d actually do anything (the spoiled brat was too pompous to ever learn how to properly use one), her right hand hadn’t left the short dagger slung on her waist once since he’d arrived. She wasn’t totally confident he wouldn’t shoot her. “At least my parents love me.”

“Ouch,” she drawled mockingly, rolling her eyes. He’d only used that taunt for the past eight years.“Tango, put that down, we both know you’ve got no clue how to use it,” a delicate sneer settled on her face. “It’s more pathetic when you act like you do.”

The boy scoffed, unaware of the group of men coming to a stop behind him. Orion wasn’t sure how, the men had an overwhelming aura about them. 

He waved the weapon. “What’s pathetic is pretending like the whole island doesn’t know how unwanted you are. What was it your father told mine, just yesterday?” he tilted his head in thought. 

She braced herself, knowing whatever it was was likely true. His father was the mayor, who had nothing better to do than gossip. And Tango had nothing better to do than spread that gossip. “Akio was the only child they wanted?”

No shit, she thought with another eyeroll. “Is that all?” 

She glanced at the group of men again, noting that they had paused to observe their interaction. It wasn’t everyday you saw teens threatening each other, she supposed. 

“Hm.” He faltered, clearly expecting a different reaction. “He also said you’re the reason he’s dead,” Tango smiled wickedly. 

Her grip on the hilt tightened. 

It didn’t go unnoticed. “And you’re, well, dead to them anyways,” the three boys laughed. “‘Useless’ is the word he used. He even told my father how he wished it was you who had died instead. Said your mother can’t look at you without thinking of him.”

Regretfully, she felt her right eye twitch. It’s nothing you didn’t already know . 

It wasn't like it was a secret. 

“And,” he added as a final blow, finally holding the gun steady. “He said he wanted to get rid of the extra mouth to feed. Asked if I’d be interested in marryin’ you so he could stop seeing you every day.”

Her face screwed up in disgust at the thought, too disturbed about the last part to be hurt by the rest. 

“Naturally my father declined.” Tango looked just as repulsed, eyeing her reaction. “But it pains me to see someone so desperate to get rid of their child.” With a slight fumble of the holster he pointed the gun at her and yanked back the hammer. “Why don’t I just help them out—”

“I’ve told you before,” Orion had her dagger pulled out in record time, flipping the blade towards her and knocking the gun out of Tango’s hand with a bruising hit to his wrist with the hilt, careful to mind the sharp edge. “You don’t pull a gun out unless you’re going to use it,” she stated flatly, ignoring the incredibly amused grins the two men in front of the group wore as she flipped her weapon back over properly.

It was with a fleeting glance after they laughed loudly, drawing the attention of the teens that she noticed they had their hands placed on their weapons too. 

“‘The lass is correct. You know what Captain says about pistols,” the taller man said to the others. Older, if the gray curls tied back were any indication. She found herself vaguely fascinated by the large, X-shaped scar crossing over the left side of his face. “And there’s that old saying of why boys like pulling on girls’ pigtails. Strange way to show your interest, lad.”

“This seems to be a little more than a schoolboy crush, Benn,” the blonde next to him said, hand on his own pistol with a glare settling on the boys. 

“I’d rather throw myself into the sea than get with him,” Orion spat to the delight of the older patrons, twirling her dagger and returning it to its place on her waist. 

“You've done enough to disturb the peace, boys,” the lady who did tarot readings next to her finally said, cackling as she fussed with her cards. “It's time to return home with your tail between your legs. The sands of fate don’t wait for anybody and I need to make a livin’. Can't do it with all this ruckus.”

Tango scowled at the woman. “Whatever crazy hag.” He flushed from the attention, turning to leave and cradling his wrist as his eyes burned into Orion’s. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

She waved him along, unwilling to sigh a breath of relief until the trio were gone. It was an easy decision to shove the emotions over what he had said deep down.

“Now that that’s over, what do we have here, little lady? I feel like shoppin,’” the men peered down at her stall, eyeing the goods that were still available. 

Orion easily slipped back into her saleswoman persona. “The best metal on the island,” she replied confidently. Her father might be awful, but the craftsman made some damn good swords.

“Ahh,” the man with the scar hummed. “Makes sense why you know your way around a blade.”

She snorted. “Only know enough to sell them.” The girl counted six men in total hovering around her table, and though she kept an easygoing smile on her face, her hand was back on the hilt of her dagger. “And enough to keep the idiots at bay.”

“That so?” He noticed too, smiling around the cigarette that hung precariously hanging from his mouth. “Captain’s been looking for a new blade, been a while since we’ve stopped here,” he turned around to glance at the group, missing the way her eyes widened at the word. 

Captain. 

Pirates. She forced herself to remain still, eyes flickering suspiciously between the men to make sure none of them tried to snag something without paying. There’d been two such cases of it today already and she sorely didn’t want to clean up blood again.  

“Captain around?” the man asked the blonde who shrugged, choosing instead to look closer at a short blade. 

“How much does this one go for, lass?” He picked the cutlass up.

“160,000 beri,” she answered evenly, offering a saccharine smile when he sputtered at the price, setting it back down. Father did say he wanted her to upsell, after all. She’d keep the extra since he couldn’t keep his mouth shut around the Mayor… again. “It might sound high, but you won’t find quality like this anywhere else in the Grand Line. I guarantee it.” At his stare, she gestured to a bowl of keychains she made when she wasn’t working or sleeping. “I’ll throw in one of those for free.”

“The lady is correct,” a warm voice interrupted the man’s stammering. The group parted for him easily. “Bought a sword from here a few years ago and it’s been good to me.” A man, tan and toned, if the chest peeking out from his barely buttoned dark blue shirt was any indication, stepped in front of her and smiled so brightly that Orion had to blink a few times. Maybe they’re not pirates, after all. 

No, she realized after her eyes finally made their way up to the man’s hair, so red it rivaled the tuna the old man next to her was selling. They are. 

“Might even be the same stand,” the man, the captain, looked at her with a curious eye, flickering between the sign above her head and her face. He leaned in far, far too close for her comfort, grinning all the while. “Pretty sure you’re the same lass who helped sell it, if my memory serves me right.”

“Sorry,” The teen raised an eyebrow nonchalantly, flicking the dirty blonde bangs out of her face. She leaned back, willing her blush away; she didn’t think she’d ever met a pirate who smelled so good. “Who are you again?” 

Her question, a downright lie, she’d admit, made the man pout, causing the small group to erupt in laughter, the other men elbowing him in amusement before wandering off, leaving just the captain and the graying man. Benn, she recalled. “She’s a delight, this one!”

Captain Shanks of the Red Hair Pirates introduced himself with a confident tone and a firm handshake, eyes twinkling as he insisted that he definitely remembered her from all those years ago. 

As if I could forget that shade of red.

“You asked so many questions about pirates I thought for sure you and your brother would become one of us one day!” he smiled again. She couldn’t detect any malice or teasing in his tone as her cheeks burned at the memory, eyes prickling a bit.

“Yeah, well,” Orion swallowed. “So did we.” There’s a hint of wistfulness present in her statement, but she shook it off, forcing a tight smile onto her face. She had a quota to meet, after all. “So what brings you to Torappu?”

Captain Shanks allowed the change in subject. “Just passing through. West Blue’s always fun, but we’re headed back to the Grand Line. Pirate things to do, and all,” he winked. 

He needs to stop that. Orion felt her face getting hot again. 

Benn rolled his eyes.

“What’s it like,” she eventually responded when her cheeks weren’t as hot, unaware that her voice had settled to a whisper. “Being a pirate?”

Both pairs of eyes lit up at the question. “You asked that before, all those years ago,” the captain leaned to one side, humming and placing a hand on his hip. Orion noticed faintly that he only had one arm now. “Didn't you?”

“No, it was…” She shook her head, her mind floating to the memory before responding faintly, if only a tad forlorn. “My brother did.”

“Knew you remembered me,” he teased, giving her a gentle smile. “Being a pirate,” Captain Shanks said, eyes flickering to the girl’s blade. “Is the freest one can be.”

“You said that last time too.” Orion was suddenly overwhelmed by the same wave of emotions that she felt all those years ago. With a sigh she bottled it up inside again, unwilling to think about it except for in the privacy of her bedroom later. “Anyways,” swallowing hard, the girl tapped her fingers on the table in an anxious fashion, gesturing to the sword the pirate wore. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Huh?” He blinked, looking down in surprise. “Oh, nothing!” the man exclaimed. “It’s still just as perfect as it was the day I got it.” With a charming grin he unsheathed it, handing it to her to inspect. 

She mused at the craftsmanship of the blade, agreeing that her father’s work still held up. Not that she’d ever say it out loud. 

Carefully, she handed it back, shocked the pirate captain even gave it to her in the first place. He could probably kill me without it easily, Orion thought. “What are you looking for then?”

His expression seemed introspective. “Something new,” he finally answered. She felt a shift in his gaze, and his eyebrows furrowed a bit before the worry was wiped away, eyes flickering to his friend and back at her. The same teasing lilt colored his tone again. “You got anything shiny?”

It succeeded in making her laugh, and she willingly showed him several of the newer wares her father made, the freshly polished ones from this morning. 

-----------------------

The bundles of beri bouncing in her bag brought a satisfied smile to Orion’s face as she strolled home the way she came, wondering how quiet of an evening she’d have if she decided to skip dinner and head straight to bed when she got back.

“Ow!” Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, sudden pain in the back of her head. She looked down, hand flying up to where a rock had just been hurtled at her. 

Her eyes widened at the sight of it at her feet. “Shit!” Quickly, she bent down to pick it up. Whipping her head to the direction the rock came from, she groaned. A little over fifty feet away, a large group of teenagers were sprinting full force at her, holding an array of weapons. 

It took all of two seconds to recognize who was smiling wickedly at her and only one to choose whatever punishment abandoning her father’s cart would land her in over letting the group catch up to her. Hiking her bag up higher, she promptly shoved the cart aside, turned to beam the rock back and sprinted away, chancing a look behind her to see if she’d made contact. 

“Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” Did one of them have a pitchfork? She couldn’t stop the string of curses if she wanted to, her heartbeat thumped wildly at the ambush. 

Tango had somehow gathered his entire gang to hunt her after his embarrassment earlier, it seemed. He shouted as her rock nailed him in the forehead (she internally cheered) and she couldn’t stop the insult loftily thrown over her shoulder if she tried, the pride from landing a hit while so distracted too great. It didn’t help that her usually acute awareness of when to keep her mouth shut never worked around the asshole. “Shouldn’t you be washing your face or something?” 

She didn’t have to see his reaction as she bounded across the moist grass and trampled flowers. The boy simply roared. “You’ve pissed me off for the last time! I’m gonna kill you!” 

“Really,” Orion huffed, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and willing herself not to trip down the steep hill.  As if he wasn’t the one who threw it first!

Another wave of rocks soared over her, blending in with the setting sky against her silhouette frantically running home. 

It’s her own fault, really. 

She was lucky looking back one time without stumbling. It didn’t seem her luck extended to another. 

Tango’s face was bright red, his eyes unable to hide how absolutely murderous he was. It seemed he was serious this time.

His eyes were the last thing she saw before gravity laughed at her, and she fell hard.

Dammit. The world was a blur of round chaos as she went rolling down the hill, finally coming to a stop roughly against a pile of boulders near one of the cliffs. 

They caught up to her in no time. 

“Happy birthday,” Tango sang mockingly, the bright smile he had that could be handsome if he weren’t so terribly horrible of a person dazing her. 

It was with a faint and stupid thought while her head flopped back against the earth that Orion thought she could be flattered that her bully was the only person who remembered her birthday. As it was, however, he said it while kicking her in the face (hard) from her spot on the ground, so she decided to not think too highly of the action. 

“Or should I say, happy death day?”

"Clever." An eye roll happened on its own accord. A handful of kicks are given all over her body in return. 

Orion wheezed.

“Grab her,” Tango ordered. The others do as he says, all too eager to obey him. 

Orion’s eye was rapidly swelling, she could feel it. There was a mild panic rising in her; Tango’s disputes often ended with the girl fleeing home or simply running until he got tired. 

This was different. 

The boys dragged her to the cliffside, the sound of the waves crashing far, far below them echoing. Hundreds of feet below them.

She shuddered. 

Alarm bells went off  in her head. Orion knew she wouldn't be able to get away so easily this time. Her right hand twitched, aching to grab her dagger and stab it through the boy’s stupid mouth but it was suddenly and painfully twisted back with a quick order. 

Her bully knew all of her tells, after all. 

“Here,” Tango sneered after she rose painfully on her knees, fully prepared to tackle him as a last resort like a feral, raging little animal.

The group surrounded her on all sides; the only open space was at her back, where the edge was. Full and complete desperation filled her lungs. 

There was no way she’d be able to barrel through them all. She was strong enough for a girl of her stature, but there were too many of them.

“A birthday present for my greatest enemy.” A dark orb was tossed onto her lap carelessly. “Eat it.”

“So dramatic,” she spat. “What is it?” Orion couldn’t stop the question, looking at the object with a faint groan, her aching ribs would no doubt be bruised in the morning, if she miraculously lived until then. “Not hungry, thanks.”

“Eat it,” Tango repeated, poison laced in his tone as he gestured to the cliff’s edge that was kissing her heels. Her heart plummeted. “Or jump into the sea.”  

She licked her lips, dry from the unforgiving salty air. Finally, she looked up at him. “Why?”

“Today was the last straw,” he spat. “You’ve embarrassed me for years.”

“You’ve tormented me for years!” she yelled back, hair whipping around angrily in the wind. “I never did anything to you!” 

“You lived!”

She couldn’t stop the laugh if she tried. “This again?”

“He was my friend,” Tango snarled, his voice breaking a little in a way that she’d laugh at if he wasn’t about to kill her. 

“You barely even knew him, you creep.” Exasperated, she locked her gaze with the boy. “He was my brother.” Unwilling to indulge him any longer, she rolled her eyes. “If you make me jump into the sea,” Orion raised an eyebrow, sounding less terrified than she felt at the thought. “I’m pulling you in with me.”

“Crazy bitch.” Armed with the decade of memories that confirmed she would, in fact, pull him in, the group, all fifteen of them or so, took a step back. 

Looking down, she briefly considered the object he tossed at her. It was an odd thing.

“Poison,” the whispered glee of those behind her tormentor carried over to her in the wind. She barely heard them over the waves below. Briefly, Orion noticed her hands were trembling. “It’s poison.”

She should have recognized the swirls on it, but the object, a fruit, was so dark she could hardly make them out.  

She would have recognized it, too, if only she hadn’t been utterly terrified at the threat of leaping off the side of a hundred-foot cliff. Her brother used to give her lectures on the objects when they were younger after all, eager for them both to find one and explore the oceans together one day.