“nobody deviates from the plan.”

Because you're a boy, and boys are always poking things they shouldn't be. That's all. Nancy paused, a bit of color draining from her face. It took her a moment, but she sighed and met Mike's eyes again. I thought…I thought I heard Barb. Like she was…calling out to me? I swear she was right next to me…

Mike’s whole posture changes the second she says Barb. The sarcasm he’d been gearing up to throw back at her dies instantly, like someone pulled the plug on every defensive instinct he has. His face softens—not pity, not disbelief, just this quiet, startled kind of understanding. “Nance…” he says, and there’s no teasing left in his voice at all. “You don’t have to pretend that’s nothing,” he says gently. “Not with me.” He searches her face, trying to read the fear she’s trying so hard to swallow. “If you thought you heard her… then you thought you heard her. That doesn’t make you crazy. It doesn’t make you weak. It just means something’s messing with us again, and you got hit first.” He shakes his head, jaw tightening—not at her, but at the idea of anything using Barb against her. “And you’re not alone in this. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice drops, softer. “You’re allowed to be scared. You’re allowed to say it out loud. You don’t have to carry this by yourself just because you think you’re supposed to be the strong one.” He nudges her shoulder lightly, grounding her the way she always does for him. “Talk to me, Nance. What exactly did you hear?”

Nancy watches as Mike's entire form shifts, and she can't help but feel guilt wash over her. She hates that she admitted the truth to him, that she didn't just swallow it all and deal with it alone, like she usually does. But something about her baby brother made her unable to help herself. Mike knows as much as Nancy, if not more, regarding the Upside Down, so she finds herself able to talk easily to him. 

She watched the color drain from his face, and for a moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake, but before she could back off, he'd swallowed up the small space between them, towering over her like a sturdy refuge. 

Hopper let out a short, sharp huff—a sound that was half-amused, half-pained. The mental image of Mike Wheeler directing a cinematic masterpiece while the world was quietly fraying at the edges was almost too much for his current stress levels.

Nancy almost snapped at Jim for his reaction--almost. But a part of her understood the sound that came out of him, too. Pained, not entirely amused. She knew that the man and her little brother didn't entirely get along, so what he said next didn't entirely shock her, either. 

the wheeler siblings are so rest on each other’s shoulders to me

Leave it to Jim to find the small details immediately. Nancy both admired and feared that skill of his. But the mention of a death warrant has her smiling, giving a small shake of her head. 

Jim took a moment before answering. His eyes moved swiftly past her shoulder, then back again, already clocking the way she’d lowered her voice, the way her smile seemed faint. The slight humor drained from his face, replaced by something more alert. "Photos," he repeated quietly and moved closer to block her line of sight from the street without making it too obvious. "Yeah. You’re right. Not here." His jaw tightened as he followed her glance over her shoulder before gesturing toward his car which was parked near them. "Let’s take a walk. You can show me what you’ve got somewhere with fewer ears."

She watched the color drain from his face, and for a moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake, but before she could back off, he'd swallowed up the small space between them, towering over her like a sturdy refuge. 

“You know, Mike, for some reason, I'm having a hard time believing you right now.”

What—why? Why is that your default setting with me? I say one completely normal, totally reasonable sentence about not touching cursed objects and suddenly I’m on trial for crimes against reality. And for the record? I didn’t touch anything. Not a single glowing fungus, not a weird vine, not even a suspiciously warm rock. I’ve been on my best behavior. Gold star level. So if stuff’s going wrong anyway… that’s not on me. That’s on Hawkins being Hawkins. …But also, like… what did you hear?

Because you're a boy, and boys are always poking things they shouldn't be. That's all. Nancy paused, a bit of color draining from her face. It took her a moment, but she sighed and met Mike's eyes again. I thought…I thought I heard Barb. Like she was…calling out to me? I swear she was right next to me…