Royal Pain || Stranger Things

twenty-four || big bruv

By the time nine a.m. rolled around the next day, Jordan and Elena had discretely fled to California while grudgingly leaving their daughter behind. Although Elena hadn't told her husband about the phone call from Ben in hopes of not having the repeat what they experienced last fall, she had been quite adamant about the two going as soon as possible. Several times she had asked – practically begged – Tatum to come with them, but she wouldn't budge.

She couldn't, not after what she had witnessed the night before.

Up until their leaving and following soon after, Tatum had retreated to her bed, remaining quiet under the covers with too many things running through her head at once.

Although she didn't want to go to California with her parents, she also didn't want to have to deal with what had come up from what seemed like the depths of hell.

Soviet hell.

She was waiting for a call from Hopper, hoping that there was some kind of development on figuring out who was behind the building of the mall. It had been under construction for six months longer than the mall two cities over and it was beginning to make more sense why it took so long if they had to build an entire base below it.

Tatum fully preferred the 'Russians on holiday' alternative, but there were too many signs pointing to sinister means.

How did Ben get their phone number?

Sitting up in bed, still wearing pyjamas hours after the acceptable time to be in normal clothes, her eyes widened. "The phone company," she mumbled to herself, practically bouncing into her closet to put on a pair of denim shorts and an off the shoulder top.

She was most definitely supposed to be getting ready for work, but they would just have to survive without her for an hour or two.

Grabbing her swim bag on the way out of her room, she haphazardly put on white converse at the door before running for the Jeep and launching into the driver's seat. With the top removed yet again now that Eleven wasn't a secret passenger, the wind billowed as she ripped out of the driveway.

"Tate?"

Tatum hit the brakes as she flipped onto the street, Steve standing next to his car in confusion, notably wearing a sailor uniform. Although her heart was racing, she feigned calm. Saluting Steve, she said, "Morning, sailor."

"Are you going to work already?" he asked, glorious hair not yet hidden by the little hat he would have to wear while clocked in.

"Uh, yeah," Tatum replied despite not showing any signs that she was wearing a swimsuit or what remotely prepared to yell at children all day. "I was just going to grab coffee on the way."

"Are you coming to the mall tonight?"

Tatum's brows arched. "What?"

"Day of the Dead is premiering tonight," Steve reminded her. "I'm sneaking the kids in. I remember you said you wanted to see it the last time we had movie night."

She nodded lightly, hand still hovering over the gear shift. "I don't think I'll be able to tonight. And Max and Lucas are just going to make out the whole time so I don't need to witness that. We'll sneak in when you're not working one night. Just let me know."

Steve gave an agreeing nod, holding up a hand in a parting wave as Tatum raced out of their neighborhood. He couldn't help but feel like something wasn't quite right.

Although there was always a sense of guilt that weighed on Tatum when she spoke with Steve, it was heavier as she drove off.

She could've told him what was going on. She could've warned him that maybe he shouldn't be working in the mall. At the very least she could have told him she missed him.