Late winter wind blew through the east side of Hawkins, billowing the grass that lined up with the barbed wire fencing restraining the public from the ruins of Starcourt Mall.
Standing just in front of a section of wire, Tatum crouched with an extended hand and slowly traced a doorway. The metal squealed underneath the energy until it peeled away, offering just enough entry for the two of them.
Tate pushed the fencing back and stepped through, then offered a hand behind her.
Mike took a deep breath before he locked his hand in hers and slid through the gaping wire. Although he wondered if he should have, he didn't let go as they made their way down uneven grounds towards the pit that had formed around the mall remnants.
Several construction vehicles littered the space. Dozens of mounds of dirt and busted materials dotted a path towards what had been the front of the building. Moonlight was their only drive as the slew of florescent work lights that surrounded the property were not powered on.
"Did the town know about the Russians?" Tate asked, not fighting Mike's hold on her hand as she took a slow path down a steep dirt path.
"No, they kept that close to their chest." Mike pushed hair out of his face, eyes near frantic as they took in the destruction. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never come back to this place - he saw it enough when his eyes were closed. "A few commie haters spread rumors, but they didn't know how right they were. And no one believed them anyway."
"And Mayor Kline?"
"Owens said they locked his ass right up. They got him on some real charges, but they didn't take him to a regular prison. I'm sure he'll never see the light of day."
Tate sighed. "Good. He knew what that mall was being built for, even if he didn't believe it all. They had the money, and that's all he cared about. That and reelection."
Mike jumped down off of the last dirt ridge before the ground leveled out, but watched his feet for loose rods and rocks. "They deemed him responsible for everyone that died that night."
"They said all the ones who went missing were found here?"
He nodded. "All the ones that were consumed." A chill ran down his spine, and in the back of his mind he was sure they had crossed over into ground that had once been the mall itself. While he expected to see the second tier ahead of them, he was only met with open night sky. "Which on a technicality, because Azathoth died here, their bodies were inside the mall that night." He sighed. "I wonder how fast we'd get put in a psych ward for talking like this to anyone normal."
"Oh, it would be immediate," Tate replied, only then removing her hand from his. She looked around, taking in that around her before her eyes averted to the broken ground.
Shattered floor tiles still remained, even a few still in tact among the rubble. Evidence of a jackhammer was clear; a very intentional attempt had been made to remove any and all evidence of a mall once towering high in that spot.
"It was somewhere over here," Tate said aloud, running a mental image of what once was side by side to what she was taking in. She turned in a slow circle, almost positive she could see the outline of the glass ceiling that had shattered down over her months before. She kicked away a pile of stones until a patch of tiles made itself clear, but her body chilled before she could move it all.
Red splatter.
Tate's jaw slacked as she stood over rust-colored patches, a quick kick revealing even more.
"No," Mike whispered, "no way." He took an unintentional step backwards, while Tate went to her knees to shove anything and everything out of the way. A hand rose to cover his mouth as the red mass grew, more revealed with each disturbed stone being flung to the side.
On her hands and knees, Tate took in several breaths as she mapped the spread. "I got Azathoth out of Billy..." She sat up on her knees and craned her head over her shoulder, witnessing a version of herself join Eleven and Nina against Azathoth's towering form in the center of the mall. "And Nancy told us the gate was closed." Her head tilted up, watching herself rise out of power.
"I have ruled your lives for year. You wouldn't have life without me! I have seen your souls! I know how this ends! This world is mine!"
A ghostly tentril plunged itself through Tate's shoulder. One of her hands jumped to cover it.
"Tate, what's happening?" Mike asked, his voice shaking not from the chill of winter, but of uncertainty. She was too distant for his liking, and his own skin was covered in goosebumps.
"I'm remembering," she quietly replied, as if she might be heard by others. Her eyes stayed focused above her, the teen still on her knees as she faced out where the disaster had taken place.
A surge of pain coursed through her side as another tendril ghosted into her violently, but her hands didn't react until the center of her chest received a punch.
Tate's eyes widened as her hands reached up to stop what felt like gushing blood from her sternum, but only the ridges of her scars could be felt under her fingertips. "I-"
"Tate, you're scaring me," Mike said, unsure if he needed to take a step forward or back as he played audience to a movie only Tate could see.
"You don't decide our fate," Tate said under her breath, eyes locked dead ahead of her.
The vicious image of the Mind Flayer crumpled up like a spider and keeled over, its body tearing in two as it hit the long gone floor. As a wave of ghostly dust poured out, Tate's legs grew weak below her. Unlike her once deathly fall, she sat herself down and laid out on her back with a huff.
Mike nearly fell to his knees, eyes wide as she landed perfectly among the puddle of her own dried blood. "Please stop. Tate, please."
"Tatum!"
But the cold was already taking over her body, seeping through her like it had on the sweltering night of Independence Day. She could hear the remnants of her coughing, her true body still as the rising memory of herself coughed up what blood she had left, mouth stained as an image of Billy loomed over her.
"Hey, hey. Stay with me."
Blurred versions of her friends hung over her, body jostling from Nina's attempt to stop the bleeding. Her body felt like ice, her fingers movable but riddled with the pain of frosted blood vessels. The rush of helicopters blew through the open ceiling of the mall, large shards of glass still glinting under strobing neon lights. Everything was broken, including herself.
"It's okay," Tate said aloud, it echoing on both sides of the universe.
Mike covered his face, crouched just beside her body with watered eyes. "Tate, please. I can't do this again."
"I just got here, Tate," Nina echoed over her. "We have to see Dad, don't we? Right? You, me and Ben. The three of us."
Tate's lips were ever so parted, murmuring her words like she had that night. Gray eyes were glazed over, unlike the blue that had glimmered back in the past.
"Tatum, hey," a kiss pressed into her palm as the ghost of Billy spoke over her. "Keep your eyes open."
Her eye lids grew heavy. Her breathing, shallow.
"Over here! We need help!" Mike shouted, despite his true self being the only one hovered over her, quiet as tears fell free from his eyes while Tate remained unresponsive.
"See? They're here." Nina's sleeve slid along her face. "They're here. Just hang on."
"Tell Steve...tell him that, that I'm a better babysitter than he is."
Mike groaned, wiping the dampness from his cheeks. "You were such an asshole for that."
But his words failed to penetrate the memory, only miserable laughter coming in as the sirens outside grew louder.
"Tatum!" Ben's image swooped down in front of her.
Joyce's agonized face was just behind as she pulled her kids in close.
"You came back," Tate whispered, lacking the warmth that had been there the first time. She couldn't help but blink slower, it harder and harder each time to open them.
"Of course I came back, kid."
"Where's Hopper?"
Mike covered his face. "She lied to you."
"He'll be here."
"I told my dad that I didn't want to move here in the beginning. But then I wouldn't have met all of you. I would have been so bored if I hadn't moved to Hawkins."
With eyes squeezed shut, Mike forced himself to take one deep breath after the next. It'll be over soon, he thought. He might not have been able to see it all the way that Tatum was, but he could never forget those last few minutes with her.
"Tate, keep your eyes open."
"It's okay," she whispered.
"Nothing about this is okay. Just stay with us. We're all here."
"That's why it's okay. I'm not scared. I'm not."
Mike clamped his hands over his ears as a half dozen more tears fell down his face. The words tumbled out of his mouth, forced out like gravity. "You kept us all safe, Tate. We're alive because of you."
"That's all that matters."
Mike's hands slowly fell as Tatum sucked in a sharp breath. It was over.
As Tate exhaled, the ground beneath her caved in, sending her flying down on her back. With the breath vacuumed out of her lungs as she free fell, all she could do was stare above her in terror as the night sky molted into darkness, and again into burning red hues.
Her pain receptors forced themselves back in as she crashed through fragile tree limbs, the crumbling wood barely able to stall her speed. She gasped through the tumble, bark shattering in her face as she attempted to grasp for a branch sturdy enough to catch her. Each one broke in her hands, barely giving her enough time to wade around the debris for another.
Tatum bared down the best she could as she barrelled towards a soggy forest floor. She tucked into herself as she hit the ground and rolled hard to the side. Where she tried to used her sweater sleeve as cushion, she found bare arms spattered with blood. She steadied herself against a tree stump, pawing at her arms as she tried to slow her breathing.
Her clothes had changed.
As her hands ran along a different pair of pants, she flashed her nails to find that they, too, were a color she hadn't worn in a long time. She tugged her hair down, it her favored shade of caramel.
Tatum swallowed as she crawled forward on her hands and knees before getting her footing. She brushed a wave of hair from her face as she rose to her full height. Her bones ached from the crash, but adrenaline coursed high through her body.
A pitch black sky crackled with red lightning. A rainless thunderstorm was strong overhead. An echo of two large barns stood just beyond the tree line she had crash landed through. Sickly vines writhed around every other tree stalk, slowly sucking the life out of them.
Tate tucked her hands in as some of them reached for her. She picked up the pace as she weaved through the trees, allowing herself a full body shiver when she broke free from the forest edge. She staggered up to a white picket fence and reached over the top to flip the latch. As she pushed through, a sharp cry echoed overhead. A rage of lightning joined in, sending her flying towards the larger of the two structures in a dying field.
Everything was plunged in shades of red, it only shifting as dry lightning crackled above. The barns ahead of her had slowly been taken over by slithering vines, slowly expanding to curl around every inch of the rotting wood.
Tate stopped short of the half opened barn door, it slowly swaying in the cool wind. Her hair lapped around her as she turned over her shoulder. Over a nearby hill, she could see the glass dome of Starcourt Mall standing, unshattered. Neon lights strobed in muted colors, flickering in and out as they struggled for power. She tilted her head upward and shielded her eyes.
There were no stars. No moon.
A distant rustling drew her head to the side, her hand slowly lowering as she stared into the swath of trees she had come from. She squinted against the lack of sunlight.
A crack of lightning forced her eyes open wide. Tate crouched ever so slightly, heart thrumming hard inside of her throat. She took an unintentional step backwards, low branches still swaying where her attention had been drawn.
A flower bloomed wide, but a barrage of teeth followed.
Breath flooded out of Tate's chest as she stumbled backwards. Another bolt of lightning littered the sky, revealing a dozen more heads of the same structure.
Mutilated howls flooded the silent landscape, accompanied by too-familiar chitters.
The dogs.
Tatum bolted for the barn behind her as footfall picked up near the trees. Wind blew the wooden doors wide open as she entered, but they fought her back as she tried to force them closed.
Movement was coming in fast over the ridge, chitters almost mocking her as she struggled to pull the heavy doors in at the same time.
Tate screamed with a final, heavy pull and slammed the barn doors shut. She flipped the latch hard but quickly scowered the front of the barn from for a reinforcement as the door rattled against the wind, begging to reopen and expose her to the swarm running towards her.
Dozens of scampering legs neared the barn, heavy chitters and howls echoing outside of the doors as Tate flung through rotted beams in an attempt to find anything sturdy.
Flecks of red light poked through the molting roof of the barn above, lightning dashing through the sky in warning.
Tate hoisted up the most intact wood flank she could find and hauled it up to her chest. Sweat threatened to fall down her forehead as she brought it over to the barn door. She slid it into the notches, only half of it able to lock in. She leaned on the top half, eyes squinted shut and breathing in hard as she tried to push it down further.
When it wouldn't budge, a moment of silence turned into two, then three.
Her eyes opened as the quiet dragged on.
No attempt to bust the doors down came, not even a scratch against the wood.
But what did come was a whimper.
Then another.
Not the body-shaking screams and cries of anguish, but whimpers of soft beasts.
Mom.
Tate lifted up from the wooden plank and took a step back, eyes growing wide.
The desperate cries from Russia brought goosebumps to her flesh, riddling her with a cold even deeper than that she was experiencing.
The muddle voice pushed its way through to her, not coming through her ears, but her soul.
Mom. Mom.
Tate's throat grew thick as she stared at the beam holding the door closed. Even the smallest of swallows got stuck as the desire to peek crawled up her skin. Her fingers ran hard into her palms, pulse rampant in her ears.
Mom.
She'd listened to so many stories from Steve and the kids of how unforgiving and vicious the dogs had been. How they never gave up trying to catch their prey.
But here they were, whimpering outside of her door with no attempt to shred it open until they could make her a meal.
Tate's eyes pinched shut as she took in a deep breath. I'm already in a place I don't understand. How else do I find out? She stretched out her hands before she hoisted the wooden beam out from it's slot and tossed it to the side. Hesitantly, she undid the latch.
Before she could push, the double doors blew wide open.
Tate took a hard step back, a slash of lightning through the sky revealing two dozen demodogs flanking the entrance of the barn.
Chitters littered the quiet night, mouths flickering open and shut as their attention stayed stuck on Tate.
But none of them made a move.
"Y-you keep saying Mom," Tate said, voice quivering. "Who...who is that?"
A dozen of the heads bobbed, swaying side to side to her voice.
You.
Another crack of lightning darted oranges and reds across the sky, flushing light over the excited dogs as they rocked in place.
Wide eyes took in the large beasts, a hesitant hand raising to her chest. "Me?" she whispered.
Coos took over, rippling throughout the swarm.
MOM.
The demodogs began to flank backwards, slowly forming a pathway out from the barn. They encircled the end, forming what appeared to be a key lock.
Tate swallowed before placing one foot in front of the other, each step out of the barn awaiting a lunge from one of the beasts.
But it never came.
Instead, they lowered their front halves and bowed their heads.
Tatum stopped in the circle at the end. As she turned around, the dogs closed the ring. "W-what is this?" she asked, once sure she was out of danger but no longer convinced.
Where would she run? Directly into chomping mouths no matter which direction she chose.
But did she need to?
Tate's brows furrowed as she took in the warm pants, soft chitters flowing between them. "I...I don't understand."
Each of the dog's heads craned up to the sky as lightning cracked hard overhead.
She mimicked the hounds, shielding her forehead as one bolt turned into two, then three.
Red and orange dashed violently across the sky until the fabric of the night ripped open and sent bolts directly down into the ring of demodogs.
Bright light struck into Tatum's chest, sending shock waves coursing through her bones. She drew in a hard breath as electricity thrummed through every ounce of her being. Blue eyes burned bright orange as she gasped for air, fire licking up through her body.
All her energy fled as the lightning rocketed down through her into the ground, and she soon followed.
When she hit the soft grass among the demodogs, the blue of her eyes had been burned out to a crisp white.
Mom. Mom. Mom.
||
A weeping Mike Wheeler sat among the rubble of Starcourt with his knees tucked up to his chest, cheeks stained with tears that just kept coming.
Once Tate had stopped speaking, he thought she would wake up and come back to him, but she went under even harder.
She was still there beside him on top of the blood she had once spilt, but she wasn't there. The whiteness of the rings of her eyes had completely taken over, leaving nothing but a blank screen as she breathed just enough to sustain life. She had been unresponsive to all of his cries, not stirring even when he shook her shoulders.
Who could he go to for help? The cops weren't safe without Hopper leading them. Even if he could run back home, would Nancy know what to do? If he could get to a phone, it would take Steve and Billy almost an hour to get there. And then what? How would he explain to them that he let her go into the den of death that had already taken her once before?
He was sure they would kill him on site.
But would they know what to do with Tate? Because he was shit out of options.
She wasn't dead, but she wasn't there either.
"Tate, please," Mike whimpered, left with nothing but his words. "I don't understand what's going on. You need to come back. Wherever you went, you need to come back."
Tate's chest rose as fell as quietly as it had since she went under.
"I can't do this again. We just got you back. Tate, ple-"
The brunette sucked in a hard breath as her upper body launched up from the ground. She heaved hard, gasping for air as she tucked her head between her knees. She swore to herself, the sizzle of oncoming puke running up her throat.
"Tate!"
Before Mike could reach of her shoulders, Tate turned hard to the right and puked onto the rubble.
"Oh, shit," Mike murmured, quick to sweep her hair up as the contents of her stomach escaped. "I-I thought you were gone. I...I didn't know what to do. You just l-left."
Tate's eyes squeezed shut when she finally came up for air. She wiped the corner of her mouth as Mike dropped her hair. "I get it now," she murmured. She could feel the echo of lightning still burning throughout her bones; the dogs still whimpering in her ears. "I understand."
With wide eyes, Mike shook his head. "Well I don't!" He stood up hard, about ready to stomp his feet as fire crawled up his own throat. "You started regressing! I had to listen to your last words for a second time! Do you know what that was like? To basically have to watch you die a second time right after I got you back? It's fucked up, Tate! This is all so fucked up!"
Tate winced as she hauled herself up from the ground. "You're not wrong."
"You're damn right I'm not wrong!" he screeched. He paused, brows slowly drawing in. "What did...where did you go, T?" He shook his head. "Why were you gone for so long?"
"First, lets get the hell out of here," Tate replied, staggering slightly as she started to lead the two of them out of the mall ruins. She made sure that Mike started up the dune of debris ahead of her, hands out to catch him if he slipped.
Once at the top, Mike grabbed her bicep to pull her the last of the way up. "Okay, now you need to tell me what happened back there."
Tate fished for the keys in her pocket as she ducked through the hole in the wire fence. "I get it now. My eyes. The dogs. I told you I just needed to remember." She rounded the front of the camaro and snapped open the driver's side door as Mike slid into the passenger's. "I thought it took pieces of me, but...it didn't take anything. It gave."
"Where did you go?"
Tate's jaw tightened as she looked over to Mike. "Where all hellish things are from. The dogs, the gorgon." She shook her head. "Azathoth."
Wide eyes stared into hers. "You...you went to the Upside Down?"
"It was different than going to get Nina. This time, it...it was a memory. It was what I was missing." She brought the camaro to life and shoved the gear shift into drive. "After I died, that's where I went."
"You..." Mike sputtered and landed on nothing as the car wheeled away from the destroyed mall. "You what?"
"Yes, I went through the regression, but after I died, I fell through to the Upside Down. It put the pieces back together for me. While my physical body was being put into a gurney and was then snatched by the Russians, I was running in another dimension."
Mike put his hands up to his face and shut his eyes. "What the hell, Tate?"
"I didn't come back because the Russians revived me, something else did. They just kept putting me back under so I didn't fling their planes out of the sky."
"I feel like I'm dreaming," he whined, running a hand down cheek.
"So did I." She kept catching glances at him as she drove back into the civilization of Hawkins. "I fell through the mall floor and into the sky, then through the trees of the Upside Down. Everything was red and mutilated, but it was Hawkins. Or, it looked like Hawkins. The barn I ran to, it's one from here. I've seen it before. It's not too far from here, either. I think it's a part of the old steel factory. I...I thought the dogs were going to come get me, but..."
"But what?"
"They...they didn't try to attack." She swallowed and shook her head. "When I was with them in Russia, when Zharkov made me bring one over from the Upside Down, I kept hearing...them. I brought a dozen in to kill the guards and they all kept saying the same thing."
Mike watched every movement on her face, his attention struck on her as she drove. "You could hear the dogs...talking?"
"They kept calling me 'Mom'."
His lips dropped, mouth hung open as he floundered for words.
"And now I know why."
"Wait!" he shouted over the soft break, pointing hard out the windshield. "Turn here."
Although Tate's brows furrowed, she did as he said and wheeled off of the main street. She accepted his pointings until they landed in the high school parking lot. "Why...why are we here?"
"After you made me sit through all of that, there's something I need you to do for me."
Other than a far off parked white van, the lot was empty under the night sky.
Tate hit the breaks and parked the camaro before craning her head towards Mike. "I graduated fair and square, Wheeler. I don't need to go back to high school."
Mike shook his head, dark curls rustling as he did so. "It's not that. Just trust me. No one's around. You're safe."
She sighed before popping the driver's side door and climbed out in sync with Mike. "This night has not gone how I planned in the slightest."
"Tell me about it," he groaned as the two headed for the front. "You can get the doors, right? I mean, you can slice through a fence without touching it-"
As they approached the high school, one of the double doors swung open and held itself for the two of them to step inside.
Tate only shot him a shitty grin before going in first.
"Yeah, yeah," he murmured, tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie before taking lead down one of the dark hallways.
"I'm well versed with this place," she told him, neck craning as they passed a slew of lockers and sports trophies.
"Not with this." Mike pointed at a place for her to stop before scurrying around a corner. He flipped a light switch.
Tate's soft frown disappeared as a glass case flooded with vibrant light.
She was faced with a photograph of herself.
Her favorite solo shot from graduation, beaming down the camera despite knowing that it was Steve pulling faces behind Jonathan taking the picture that drew such a smile.
Mike circled back to stand beside her, Tate quieter than when she had fallen into a death regression. "This is what I had to look at every day that you weren't here."
IN MEMORIAM: JULY 4TH 1985
Tate's photo wasn't the only one plastered in the display. Heather from the pool was there, along with a handful of others who had been consumed by Azathoth. Memorabilia for each had been pinned to their photos, some medals from sports and others for science.
But Tatum's was a smaller photograph from her first birthday celebrated in Hawkins - the day she had been given Jolene. The kids were cuddled up close around her with bright smiles despite the January chill, but Tate looked the happiest. Others had medals to show for their time in Hawkins, but she had what was most important to her - her friends.
Her fighters that would go to war for her any day.
"Mike, I need to tell you about the dogs-"
A clattered echoed down the dark hall. Tate reflexively grabbed onto Mike's arm and pulled him closer to her side as they both stared down into the abyss.
"No one's supposed to be here," she whispered.
"Neither are we." He shimmied out of her hold. "Let me try something," he told her quietly, significantly less concerned than she. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a whistled tune, the last note mutliated as he was snatched back by Tate.
"What are you do-"
A chuckle rippled down the hallway from the source of the clatter, it growing louder as a classroom door swung open. A shadow emerged, only its tallness visible as it drew closer.
"As I live and breathe," a male voice echoed as footsteps drew closer. "Mike. Wheeler." Large, dark curls glinted from the light of the glass case, the ripples of a leather jacket evident as the figure stepped fully in view. "And..." The teenager tilted his head as he honed in on Tatum. "Do I...know you?"
Did he? Tate squinted just slightly, the curls and silver rings hard to miss. "No...I'm not, uh, from around he-"
Who, Eddie? Nah, his dealer's good.
It seemed to click at the same time for the older teens, the newest arrival snapping a finger and pointing at Tatum.
Although no words followed, Eddie's mouth hung open as the pointed finger swiveled over to the light up memoriam board beside them. "I..." He glanced back and forth between the photograph and the girl in front of him. "Oh...shit, Wheeler. What the hell?"
Mike cleared his throat. "Eddie, how high are you right now?"
Eddie shook his head incredulously and held up two fingers. "Not at all, officer."
The youngest turned back to Tate. "He wasn't a boy scout. I think we're good. He'll sleep this off."
"Are you telling me that you weren't lying at Hellfire about necromancy?" Eddie asked with a laugh, walking closer to Tate. He craned his head as he took a good look at her, even picking up a lock of her hair and dropping it. "This is...outstanding, dude." Brown eyes met white. "You look great for a dead chick."
Tate bit back a laugh. "Thanks, Eddie. Good to see you too."
He grinned, his pointed finger returning as he nodded. "I remember you buying from me a couple times."
Mike's eyes widened, quickly dashing between the two of them. "You-"
"You, say nothing," Tate said to Mike. "And you, must be the source of this turd's rolling skills. Or should I say lack of."
Eddie scoffed and placed a hand to his chest. "I take great offense to that, m'lady. I taught this young padawan well."
"Consumption maybe," she countered. She took hold of Mike's arm. "This has been great, Munson, but we've really got to go."
Mike tried to murmur a sorry before he was dragged off behind her, only able to give half a wave before they were trekking down the hall.
"Where are they hiding you these days?" Eddie called, quick to follow after them. "You should be going to see Harrington, as much as he's cried about you."
Tate's shoe scuffed the ground, unable to stop herself from looking back. "Harrington's just fine."
A chuckled filled the hall just as it had before. "Do me a favor."
Mike was the one to stop them, daring to be yanked to outer space by Tate's grip.
Tatum swallowed and turned around. She only let go of Mike when Eddie had tossed something towards them. She caught a wrapped up baggie and didn't need to do more than inhale before knowing the contents.
"Tell him to come see me sometime," Eddie told her with a grin. He raised a hand to his forehead and saluted before turning it into an illustrious bow. "See you on the other side, Rivers."
Tate snatched Mike back up and dragged him out of the high school, her skin growing warm as she headed for the camaro. "You've got to be kidding me," she growled, tucking the weed into her pants pocket. "I'm screwed. I'm totally screwed."
Released only when they made it to the car, Mike climbed into the passengers. "No, you're not. Eddie's not going to say anything."
"Maybe not now, but what about the next time he gets high with other people? What happens when that filter's gone?"
"It's not like he hangs out with anyone outside of Hellfire, Tate. It's fine, I swear. No one would believe him, anyway. They'll just assume he's really high, which he often is."
Tate's jaw stayed locked as she revived the camaro. She softly shook her head as she tore out of the parking lot and left the high school in the rear view mirror. "I should've listened to Owens. This is exactly why he told me not to-"
"Since when do you listen to adults?" Mike questioned over her. "When do you listen to anything but the voice inside of your head?"
She blinked several times, swallowing as she hit a stop sign. For once, she couldn't drag her eyes over to Mike as his words settled on her skin.
Stars twinkled over Hawkins through the windshield, far unlike the demented replica she had trudged across not thirty minutes before. The moon clung to the sky at a tilt, bearing light over the sleepy town.
Tate let up on the break and headed for Maple Street.
But Mike wasn't finished.
"You could've told us you were alive instead of making us all feel haunted. Haunted by your music, by your words." Although he wasn't looking at her either, there was no other person his words were meant for. "Hopper couldn't, but you could. You were there for months driving us all out of our fucking minds, Tate. It's not fair! And then tonight? I just wanted to bring you flowers and go home. But no, I got to relive everything." He shook his head. "As if I need help with that. It's cemented on my eyelids. In my ears. Everything from that night has stuck itself inside my bones. I thought it would leave when I saw you in the cabin, but...it just keeps going."
Finally, when the camaro pulled up outside of the beloved Wheeler house, Mike turned to her.
"I don't understand you. I-I thought I did, but I was so wrong. I want to ask if you know what you did to us, but I know that you do. You were there the whole god damn time." Mike hauled himself out of camaro but turned back to lean into the open door. "If you don't figure out how to let people help you, you're actually going to end up in that grave."
Tate's eyes closed as the passenger's door slammed shut, her body softly rocking with the vibration of the car. Her gut burned, an invisible fist buried deep inside of it as the silence took over.
She swallowed, gently opening her eyes before peeling away from the curb. She blinked away a light film, barely noticing the dampness rolling down her cheeks as she fled from the neighborhood.
She didn't turn on the radio even when she hit the highway. She just left herself with Mike's words as the sun threatened to rise over Indiana.
She wasn't sure when the tears had stopped, but by the time she wheeled into the quiet student living parking lot on campus, she was blank.
No thoughts of the dogs or the rage of the Upside Down - only that of Mike's.
Tate killed the engine of the camaro, but stared blankly out the windshield where the sun had just begun to shed light onto the blooming greenery ahead. But she wasn't thinking of the sun or the grass.
All she could see was the look on Mike's face.
Tate slowly peeled herself out of the car, feet unsteady underneath her as she closed the driver's side door. Before she could lift her head, a voice traveled across the parking strip.
"Tate?" Steve's brows were furrowed deep as he dropped off of the last step of the stairs.
Her chest ached as she swallowed and headed slowly for him.
He shook his head, glancing around the parking lot as he met her in the middle. "Where...where did you go? I thought you were in bed." When she didn't speak, his eyes ran over her reddened cheeks and swollen eyes. She was asking a lot about her grave. "You went, didn't you?"
Although she couldn't meet his gaze, she asked, "Diner?"
Steve sighed but nodded all the same. "Diner."