forty-eight ➵ past habits

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"Holy shit, what the hell happened?!"

Joyce immediately stood up, putting up her hands in an effort to calm the daughter of the chief.

Letting out a sigh, Teresa placed the softball bat by the side of the door, shutting and locking it behind her. She took the few steps to stand beside her father, not even paying another second of attention to the scarce trail of blood on the floor. "What happened?" she asked Joyce, emptying her pockets of her radio and keys onto the floor beside her.

"I though the lab was running again," she said softly, offering the girl a wet towel. Teresa immediately got to work, wiping the smeared blood from her father's face. She saw him breathing, his skin vibrant and perhaps a little too red, but the injuries explained that pretty quickly.

"Were the dogs—"

"There was a guy on a motorcycle. He—Hop, he told me to wait, but—I found him beaten up," Joyce explained. "I've had to—I've had to clean Lonnie up before—"

"This won't be my first either," Teresa cut in, hoping to calm her a little. "There's a bowl under the sink, could you fill it with cold water? And then—My car. In my car, in the trunk, there's a metal box strapped to the side on the left, the code for the lock is zero, one, one, there's a whole first aid kit," she calmly explained. "Would you get it for me?" she asked, using her free hand to offer her car keys.

"Yeah, of course."

As Joyce disappeared outside, Teresa let out a sigh, her radar for the Upside Down striking up for the umpteenth time for the day. Her head started to ache, though she tried to push it out of her mind in order to continue cleaning her father's skin of the dried blood.

    "God, dad, what did you get yourself into?"

Letting out a shallow breath, she reached behind her to turn on her radio for the first time that night, turning up the volume. As Joyce closed the door behind her, the radio came to life with Dustin's voice.

    "Jailbird, this is Gold Leader, come in. I repeat. Jailbird, we need your attention, come in!"

"Is that Dustin?" Joyce asked, putting the first aid kit beside the girl.

"Yeah, we uh—We were working on a thing with Steve and Dustin yesterday," she replied, distracted by the dressings and gauze in the pack.

"Teresa," Joyce lowered herself beside her, putting a hand on hers. "Go, I can take care of him. Answer Dustin," she spoke with a soft voice so like one she would expect from a mother. Like Joyce.

Giving in, Reese felt her head drop into a nod, and she turned to grab the walkie before she stepped outside.

"Gold Leader, this is Jailbird, what do you need?" she asked, sitting on the top step and dropping her head into her free hand.

    "Reese!"

    "Steve?!"

    "We are in serious shit, Hop, those Russians? They're not playing around."

    "I kind of knew that already, Harrington."

    "Don't use surnames on the walkie!"

    "Shut up, asshole!"

    "Quit it!" she raised her voice a little, and once she released the button, she heard absolute silence on the line. The next voice was less calm, but made more sense, for once.

"Reese! This is nuts! We were on the roof, and these men were guarding the loading bay, and—I cracked the code! It was a trip to Imperial Panda, Chinese food, get it? And then tread lightly in Kaufman's Shoes! The silver cat was the delivery guys who deliver our ice cream, they're Lynx Transportation! And—And the blue meets yellow—that was the clock in the centre of the mall, it's the hands of the clock! I cracked it, so we went up to the roof in the pouring rain, and watched these guys deliver something and Imperial Panda had all these boxes in their storeroom, and realistically, what restaurant needs that many boxes without a refrigerator unit? Their food sucks! Oh! And, and, and, and, the guy also unlocked it with a code. How high tech does a Chinese restaurant's storeroom have to be? It's definitely some hinky Russian stuff! But that makes sense right? This is insane! I'm freaking out!"

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