Royal Pain || Stranger Things

eleven || fabergé

Her lips pursed as she grabbed a corner of the board, flipping it around.

Every news article that had ever been released on Will Byers was haphazardly tacked up, red strings connecting from one to the next to show the progression of the timeline, it clearly faulty.

"Shit," she murmured, absently plucking the tightly strung cord. "Dad..."

But the photographs were layered.

A down to scale copy of a wanted poster held a sketch that looked insanely similar to El with her hair buzzed down. Her father's handwriting was scratched around the image, varying from 'Russian spy' to 'Hawkins lab', the first one crossed out.

Tatum flipped up a polaroid of Will taken not a month before, ignoring the blatant and disturbing fact that it was likely Jordan who took it. Her brows furrowed deep, find an older photograph of a white-haired man in a sleek suit. "Papa?"

A flash of Eleven's distressed face crossed over her, recognizing the man that had brought so much emotion from the child.

'Brenner' was scrawled above the man's head, written so deep it nearly punctured the photo.

"Tatum!"

Tatum let the polaroid of Will fall back over Brenner's face, turning over her shoulder as Billy's voice echoed from the backyard. "Coming!" she called, pinching the bridge of her nose before flipping the corkboard over. Grabbing the nail files on the way out of the library and locking the door, it didn't take her long to jump in the pool and shut out the nightmare of Hawkins that was only growing.

||

"When do your parents get back?"

Lingering in the open doorway with a late morning breeze blowing in, Tatum absently held onto the collar of Billy's jacket. "Already trying to have another sleepover?"

"It definitely wouldn't be the worst thing," he replied with a grin, flipping his car keys around his ring finger. "Are they coming back tonight?"

"No, they're not."

Billy leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her neck. "Should I come back?"

Tatum grinned, letting go of his jacket. "Sure. But I'll be out with Nancy for a while, so I won't be home until late."

"Okay," he said, "I'll see you then." He tilted her chin up, kissing her warmly before leaving her on the porch and heading to his car. "What's up, Harrington?"

Tatum's eyes wandered across the street, the less than kind greeting sent to Steve as he seemed to be loading the trunk with cleaning supplies. Although she shut the front door to play it off, she ran upstairs to grab a prepacked backpack, cricket bat and her leather jacket before bounding back outside.

Steve shut his trunk with a huff, an unsettling smell coming from it. "So, he stayed the night."

"Steve."

"Dustin's been calling all morning, is what I mean. He's antsy to start." Steve climbed into the driver's seat, not needing to invite Tatum to join him. "I was going to get you earlier, but his car was still there."

Tatum shut the car door, buckling herself in with a sigh. "Sorry. I didn't know how to subtly ask him to leave."

"You could've just told him to."

"Steve."

Steve held up a cursory hand as he wheeled out of the driveway and headed down their street. "I'm just saying." He ran a hand absently through his hair. "Have you heard from Nancy?"