TWO
-- REPEATED HISTORY --
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THE MORNING of november 7th, 1996, a mother named betsy dahlia rushes around her living room and kitchen in an attempt to find her car keys. her house smells like toast and an open window filters bird songs into the quiet house. a future betsy dahlia will wish she had paused to cherish the peace of this morning for just one moment, but even if she reimagines each of her actions in her head, it will never change what really happened.
instead of taking in the stillness of the morning, betsy dahlia lifts up a couch cushion and spots her keys lying there. "hey, chris?"
her son is the one making breakfast this morning, hence the smell of burnt toast wafting through the kitchen doorway. "yeah?"
betsy walks into the kitchen and waves her keys in the air. "found 'em!" she goes up behind christopher and presses a kiss to his cheek. "have you seen meg up yet?"
the toaster dings and chris pulls each piece of bread out, dropping them onto a plate before his fingers get burned. "no, not yet. she should be getting out of bed by now, though."
"i'll go check," and betsy goes to do just that; she makes her way back through the living room and down the hallway to where meg's room is. she opens the door, "meg? good mor—" but she stops short, her hand still on the knob as she stares at her daughter's bed. it's still perfectly made from yesterday.
she takes a breath and then hurries back out of the room. "did she come home last night?"
there's a pause as betsy reenters the kitchen and chris turns to look at her. "what?"
"meg. did she come home last night?"
chris blinks. "i— i don't know. i came home late. i had to take a shift for someone else. i figured she'd be okay. i didn't check her room because i didn't think i needed to."
betsy exhales shakily but does not panic. "okay. she was at holly's yesterday, right?"
chris nods quickly. "yes. right. she probably just slept over there, yeah?" betsy goes to the phone and dials the wheeler's number.
"hi, karen?" a pause, "right, yes, i was just calling...is that meg in the background? no? just the television?" chris meets her eyes from the kitchen. betsy looks away. "no, that's okay...yes. are you alright, karen? you sound a little— oh, okay. thank you so much, karen. bye."
"mom?" chris walks around the kitchen table and looks at betsy's shaking hand as it holds the phone. "meg...didn't stay over?"
betsy shakes her head, but still, she won't panic. "it doesn't mean anything. she probably left early for school. she had that science test, remember? she left her notebook at school and needed to use it to study. yes, that's it. she's just at school."
"right."
"okay, so...so we'll see her after school then. and everything's okay." betsy combs her hands through her hair. "i need to go to work."
"yeah. bye, mom. love you," chris's gaze trails after his mom as she shuts the front door behind her. then he puts the phone back up on the wall and runs to meg's room.
everything is exactly where it was the morning before. her bed is neatly made, there are no clothes set out to wear this morning. chris feels a kind of dread sinking deep into his bones.
that afternoon, with shaking hands, chris calls karen wheeler once again. she tells him that holly hadn't seen meg at school that day. chris tells his mother at dinner, and they both lose their appetites.
betsy calls the hawkins police department just after seven pm on november 7th.
nineteen hours have passed since meg dahlia was last seen.
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"last night, november 6th, a freshman student at hawkins high was reported missing. megan dahlia, daughter to betsy dahlia, was last seen at her friend's house and she reportedly left the family's residence at around ten forty-five at night. any person with information on megan's disappearance is strongly encouraged to step forward and share it with the hawkins police department, who are looking into an investigation as we speak. dahlia family, we send you our best wishes and deepest condolences in this time of hardship. now, we will switch over to my fellow reporter, terry bennett, who..."
"i didn't even... i mean, we barely even said a real goodbye to each other. i didn't think..."
holly wheeler is curled up on her couch beside her mother that night, tear tracks running down her face as karen rubs her back.
"you couldn't have known," karen presses a kiss to her youngest daughter's head. "did they say anything at school?"
holly sniffs, "no one knew. me and matty and zach asked around because she told us she'd be there today, but no one knew. we just assumed she was sick."
there's a beat. "do you think she's—"
"i think she's alright, hol." karen cuts her off, knowing what comes next. she can feel her heart sinking, remembering what happened with mike and will. betsy's phone call earlier had been far too similar to the one she'd had with joyce all those years ago. her son's best friend came home safe eventually, of course, but he was never...the same, karen thought. she stopped herself from wondering if it was really possible that meg would come back just like will had. the chances didn't seem very high. "imagine when mike hears..." she murmurs.
"what do you mean? what's wrong with mike?" holly has never learned the extent of what happened in hawkins when she was younger. her family has told her the basics, but she's never been all that curious to learn more. especially when she can still recall a distant memory of a fourth of july fair, her sitting on the ferris wheel, looking out over the forest and seeing a disfigured, squirming monster crawling through the woods. she's never asked what happened, not when she knows that monster is part of it.
as if on cue, we see mike at the top of the stairs, having heard holly's quiet cries. "hol? mom?" he hops down the stairs. "what's wrong?"
karen looks down at her daughter. "holly?" and holly's face crumples.
"i can't do this right now," she gets up from the couch, wiping her eyes furiously with the heels of her palms. then she's gone, disappearing up the stairs and shutting her door quietly.
mike and karen are left alone in the living room, the television still on, now running ads for the all new 3-in-1 shampoo at hawkins grocery.
mike looks at his mom, confused. "what was that all about?" and karen sighs deeply. frankly, she's not sure she can talk about this either; telling mike that what happened to him a decade ago is repeating. although it may not be the same situation, karen's not sure she wants mike to relive all of that.
"mike...you know meg, right?"
mike blinks. this doesn't seem to be the question he was expecting. "yeah? she was over here last night. what about her?"
karen closes her eyes for a moment, struggling to find a good way to explain. her fear of what mike's reaction will be is strangling her. "she...went missing. last night. her mom– betsy, you know her– came home late enough that meg should've been in bed. and she wasn't, and betsy called the police, and...they haven't found her. there's not enough information about her relatives to know if it's a kidnapping or something else. right now, she's just gone."
mike stares at her for a moment. "gone," he murmurs, blinking a few times as he recognizes his mother's words from the night will went missing. "like...with will? but it's fine, isn't it? hopper and steve will look into it, and they'll find a trail, and they'll bring her home safe. this doesn't mean anything, does it?"
karen stares blankly at the muted television. mike balks, "mom? it doesn't mean anything, right?"
his mother sighs again. "i'm just as against it as you, but...we can't outlaw the idea completely. yes, it's been years since you closed the gate to the upside down, but how often is it, really, that a person goes missing without a trace in a small town in the middle of indiana?"
mike crosses the room and drops onto the couch next to karen. "i just don't believe it. i thought we finished it with vecna nine years ago. i don't want meg to have been kidnapped, of course, but the alternative..."
"i know," karen wraps an arm around her son, and then takes a breath before the truly difficult part. "but, mike...if it really is the upside down again, i can't let you go through that again. you, or nancy, or any of your friends. once in a lifetime is one time too many. and holly shouldn't have to go through it either. a best friend is a best friend, but hopper and steve have the final say. if they say it's over, it's over. and if they find a body, like last time, that's it. hopper knows not to go digging again. and you can't afford to either. she's your sister. i'll be here, always, but i trust you to put in your two cents to keep her safe."
mike leans his head against her shoulder. "yeah. and while the chances of her being kidnapped aren't high, neither are the chances of it being him again."
karen lifts a hand to ruffle her son's hair. "go to bed, mike. everything will be fine in a few days, i know it."
mike pushes himself off from the couch, frowning. "you're right. it'll be fine." but he knows, deep down, it isn't true. something tells him megan dahlia wasn't just kidnapped. she hasn't just gone missing.
"gotta love wheeler family traditions," he mutters as he reaches the top of the stairs. "god."
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"hopper, we've got a problem." jim hopper looks up from his fresh cup of coffee.
"what is it this time, harrington?" steve sighs, closing hopper's office door and taking a seat across from him.
"you hear? betsy dahlia's daughter just went missing. nearly thirty-four hours now."
hopper sits back in his chair. "yeah, lady came in yesterday with a report. the girl's dad lives on the border of illinois. there's a damn good chance she's with him right now."
steve blinks, taken aback. "hopper," he says, resting his elbows on the desk. "come on."
"steve," hopper shoots back, mocking. "come on. you know the statistics. you've had false kidnappings before. ninety-nine percent of the time, a missing child is–"
"safe with a relative within the borders of their resident state and estimated to return within seventy-two hours," steve finishes, cutting the man off. "yeah, i have had false kidnappings before. and i know what they look like, and i know that this isn't one. what kind of kid can travel across an entire state overnight without any money or anything taken from their house? it was the same with will, and you know it. no traces, nothing taken from his room or his house or anywhere. and the crashed bike."
hopper sets down his mug. "i'm telling you right now, son, there's no crashed bike this time. those kids could survive off of dirt if they really need to."
steve glares at the chief of police. "megan dahlia is holly wheeler's best friend. wheeler. mike's bound to have heard by now, and that's his sister. he'll be coming to you by the end of the day. do you really want to tell mike wheeler that you're refusing to investigate his baby sister's best friend's kidnapping, all because you're scared of a monster we killed nearly a decade ago?" he scoffs, "honestly, hopper, i'll investigate this whole damn case myself until we get a body, living or not."
"go ahead. see where it takes you." hopper opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a manila folder. he slaps it in front of steve. "here's a file on betsy dahlia's husband and family. take whatever you need, just don't come back asking for help. i'm not getting involved this time. if it really is him again, keep me out of it."
steve snatches the folder and stuffs it into his bag, hoping hopper can feel the loathing coming from him in waves. "you're a coward, jim." and he slams the door shut behind him, weaving through cubicles and out the front entrance.
the two police officers argue like this often enough, but steve's never been so embarrassed to call hopper his boss. the hopper he knew would've taken this case in a heartbeat, especially after will.
trying to avoid thinking more about hopper, steve's first stop is dustin's house. he sprints all the way there and jogs up to the front door, praying that claudia henderson doesn't open it. he loves dustin's mother, but the idea of having a full conversation with a woman twice his age while heaving for breath isn't exactly his idea of being productive, and he doesn't have time to lose.
as if in answer to his prayers, steve knocks only twice before a familiar head of curls is seen through the window. dustin pulls the door open. "steve?"
"henderson," steve bends over, catching his breath. "you watch the news, right? man, your house is far from the police station..."
"did you run here?" dustin stares at him. "you own a car."
"oh. yeah, i guess i do." steve pauses, "not the point." and he promptly pushes past dustin and makes his way to his room.
"steve, i love you, man, but what, exactly, are you doing here?" steve ignores his friend's calls and starts rummaging through desk drawers.
"where did you put that damn thing? i know you haven't used it in years, but i swear to god, henderson, if you threw it out..." he moves to a box on the ground, tossing a few baseball hats behind him. they land on the floor by his closet.
"hey, i just packed those up! i'm moving out next week, stop rummaging!" dustin pulls steve away from the box. "what are you even looking for?"
"your...old phone thing!" steve looks around frantically, gesturing with his hands. "god, what's it called? a walter? no, wait...a walkie talkie!"
"a walter?" dustin puts his hands on steve's shoulder. "steve. you just called a walkie talkie a walter. that's a new low. are you okay?"
"no, henderson, i'm not!" steve looks around the room again.
"i–" dustin starts, but steve's eyes light up.
"there it is! i knew you were too sentimental to throw your junk out!" dustin protests as steve reaches for a box on the ground and pulls out a walkie talkie that seems to be decades old. the man frantically pulls up the antenna and holds down the button on the side.
"HELLO? IS ANYBODY THERE? HELLO??" steve shouts into the receiver; it's clear he's never used a walkie talkie before. "ANYBODY! LUCAS? MIKE? WILL??"
"steve. dude. what is going on. we have a phone, like, right across the hall."
"this is too urgent for that!"
dustin takes the walkie talkie from his hands and shoves his friend toward the bed. "talk to me, man. no one's going to answer that thing."
steve scrubs a hand over his face. "megan dahlia's missing."
"why have i heard that name before?" dustin tosses the walkie talkie onto his bed beside steve.
"your cousin. they're friends, i think." steve drops his head into his hand for a moment and then lifts it to rest his chin on his palms. "she disappeared last night without a trace. according to her mom, she never came home after leaving the wheeler's. holly's the last person to see her."
"have you heard from mike?"
steve looks up at him, deadpan. "have you? i'm not the first person he'd come to, henderson. and what about matty? he hasn't called you, either?"
"and i don't blame him, steve. the first person i went to with will's disappearance were my friends and my mom, not my cousin."
steve shrugs, "you two are close, i don't know. but that doesn't matter. we need to call a meeting, or something. with everyone. i've got a bad feeling about this."
here dustin pauses. "you don't think–"
"hello? steve?" a voice comes filtering through the walkie talkie lying on dustin's bed. "this is lucas."
steve lunges for the walkie talkie and dustin would laugh if he hadn't just realized what steve was implying.
"lucas? thank god. yeah, it's steve. i'm with dustin right now. have you seen the news?"
"yeah, man. it's awful. i was thinking of checking in on mike, but then you...called? what do i even call this?"
"listen, lucas," steve looks up at dustin. "we need to meet up, all of us. max, will, mike. even erica, for fuck's sake. everyone, and i mean everyone."
"sure, man," lucas's voice crackles, "but why, exactly?"
a new voice comes through the device now. "lucas? steve? you guys know we have phones...right?"
"will?" dustin takes the walkie talkie from steve's hands. "will! jesus, guys, why do we all still have these things?"
steve snatches the walkie talkie back from dustin. "hey, will, tell el and jonathan to meet at the wheeler's in three hours. and tell jonathan to tell nance."
"what? why?" steve groans.
"we'll explain there. just do it, please. and lucas, you get max and erica. i'll bring robin."
and with that, steve shoves the antenna back down and rises from dustin's bed.
"time to rally those troops, henderson."
"what the fuck?"
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"hol," matty rushes up to her at lunch. holly almost didn't come to school today, but she hasn't seen or heard from matty and zach since they found out the night before, and she wanted to check on them.
matty looks ready to burst with pent up energy. "god, are you okay? i mean, i know i'm not, so you probably aren't either, and zach was crying last night, i know because he told me, and god, this–" holly interrupts him by wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face in his neck. matty says nothing. he squeezes her back, arms curled around her back.
"do you think she's okay?" holly murmurs into his shoulder.
"i don't know," he whispers back.
they part just in time for zach to come jogging around the corner, holding out a stack of paper. he reaches them, pausing to catch his breath. "missing posters. for meg."
and suddenly, holly's tears and matty's dejection evaporate; now it's a frenzy of printer paper and a strange kind of joy as the trio realize maybe they can truly do something to get their best friend back.
"this is so genius. good thinking, z."
"we'll put these up around town after school, yeah?" holly takes a few from the top and stuffs them in her backpack.
"it's a date," matty winks at zach and grins as his friend shoves him aside.
"bike rack after last period, weirdo!" zach shouts after him as matty starts walking away.
"yeah, yeah, whatever, nerd!" but he'll be there.
and though the three of them are missing their fourth, something about this small plan gives them hope.
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when mike wheeler hears a knock on his front door at four o'clock that afternoon, he's not quite sure who he expects it to be. he got home from teaching less than an hour ago and was sort of hoping he could relax, but you can't always get what you wish for.
holly isn't home, but she has a key and wouldn't knock. his mom is out with friends. he's left to answer the door while his dad is at work, but he has no clue who would be knocking at four o'clock on a random thursday. honestly, he half expects it to be the police.
he takes too long walking down the stairs, apparently, because now the doorbell is ringing incessantly.
"coming! i'm coming! jesus...so needy." he approaches the door and doesn't bother looking through the peephole; the bell is still ringing. he turns the knob and pulls the door open.
"what the hell?"
in front of mike, fanned out across his front porch is his entire makeshift family. steve stands at the front, with dustin, max, lucas, el, and will standing close behind him. his party. and behind them are nancy, jonathan, robin, and erica.
mike just gapes.
"family meeting. basement." steve pushes past mike and through the door.
the man pauses, raising his eyebrows; mike isn't following him.
"now!"
mimi & zoe's corner!
- THE WAIT IS OVER EVERYONE !! TIME TO CELEBRATE!!! (now js a quick 7 day wait until chapter 3!!!!!!)
- the trauma i (zoe) went through remaking the cast chapter of this...you guys dont understand - pro tip, dont transfer a book to another acc after you've started it !
- also literally any steve scene has me giggling while we (mimi) write it bc he's so silly in this as a deputy (him being a deputy is 100% canon btw)
- and one more thing i (zoe) js watched the 3 ghostbusters movies (thank you vic) and 10/10 do recommend im gonna bully mimi into watching it now
- (mimi) i'm so tempted to watch them now so dw it won't take much bullying
- anyways..
questions, comments, concerns here!
happy reading!
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(half proofread, we got lazy)