"Are you sure?" Mrs. (L/N) is sitting across from Joyce at the Byer's kitchen table. Joyce is a frazzled mess. This panic spreads to (Y/N)'s mother.
"Yes, it was her. (Y/N) and Will," Joyce has her hands interlaced in her hair. Her eyes are desperate for someone who believes her. Hopper sure hadn't.
Joyce has told (Y/N)'s mother about what had happened. The phone call. She explained everything from the busted telephone to the terrified children and the strange growl. Joyce had also told her about Hopper's careless reaction.
Mrs. (L/N) has no idea how to react to this information. She's aware of the rumors surrounding Joyce Byers, such as her being a so called kook who can't take care of her children. Mrs. (L/N) cares about her outward appearance and reputation, so she hasn't chosen to hang around with Joyce, however, she doesn't really believe in the rumors herself. Her daughter has been friends with Will since elementary school, he's a great kid and has been raised well. But, this story seems so surreal. Could Joyce really be telling the truth?
"Please, you have to believe me," Joyce is pleading, desperation can be detected in her body language. "No one else does! And your daughter, she's...she's in danger! Please!"
"Joyce, I," Now it's Mrs. (L/N)'s turn to plunge her hands into her hair. She sighs and neatly presses the hair back into place due to her sense of professionalism. "I don't know what to believe. It sounds--"
"Crazy! I know! It sounds crazy!" Joyce is frantic now, her eyes bulging out of their purple-tinted sockets. Mrs. (L/N) draws back a little in her chair. A speck of fear ignites inside of her. What is this woman capable of? "I sound crazy! I look crazy! Maybe, I am crazy!"
"Joyce..." (Y/N)'s mother doesn't want to have offended Joyce. They need to be on the same side in this situation.
"No, I know. I know," Joyce takes a shaky breath, understanding that she needs to seem calm and in the right state of mind to get her point across. "Just give me a chance, please," Joyce clasps her hand together. In this moment, she would have taken a long drag from her cigarette, however, she doesn't want to make Mrs. (L/N) feel uncomfortable. Joyce knows that the woman has a different lifestyle and smoking definitely isn't included in it.
(Y/N)'s mother knows that this story sounds bizarre. But, where's the harm in believing in it? Even if it is just for a little bit. If this can possibly be a lead in finding her daughter, Mrs. (L/N) sure as h*ll is going to try and consider this story to be true.
"Okay," (Y/N)'s mother puts her hands up, as to surrender, "Okay, yeah, I'll believe you," Joyce's face lights up and she gives a chuckle of relief.
"Thank you! Thank you!" She takes ahold of Mrs. (L/N)'s hands and smiles, "I promise, I'll prove it to you," (Y/N)'s mother smiles back and nods.
"So, where do we begin?"
♥︎
(Y/N) and Will decided it'd be a good idea to have shifts taking watch while the other sleeps. Will offered to let (Y/N) rest first, he knew that would be the polite thing to do. Her eyelids seemed to be weighted and she was a bit fatigued. After a lot of reassurance that he was okay with her resting first, she looked at Will with a thoughtful stare.
What she really wants is to lay against him. To be near him. Then her mind wanders. That would be weird...wouldn't it? Just doing something like that. Yeah, weird. He probably doesn't want me all over him anyways. But it's cold. Really cold. And because she's found a perfect excuse to do what she's secretly wanted to do, for a long time, (Y/N) gains an overwhelming burst of confidence.
She scoots closer to Will so that she's sitting directly next to him. She looks straight into his eyes. The stare they hold is sweet; innocent. Will is propped up against the wall and sits vertically across the comforter. (Y/N) adjusts herself so that she is leaning comfortably against Will's chest, she can feel his breath hitch. (Y/N) starts to get up as she thinks she's startled him. Will takes hold of her arm and gently guides her back to his chest. "No, you're alright," he assures his skittish friend.
(Y/N) now decides to use her excuse, to make her action seemed justified, even though Will doesn't mind. Truthfully, he actually enjoys it. "It's cold," she says softly.
"Mmhmm," Will hums, absentmindedly accepting what she's said. He determines that this also gives him an excuse to embrace her. He slowly moves his left arm around (Y/N)'s upper arm and lets his hand fall into her lap.
A small smile sprouts from (Y/N)'s chapped lips. Glee builds up inside of her and rushes through her veins. A feeling of belonging and protection surrounds her. She feels like she has someone. She actually has someone who is okay with her existence. How cool is that?
(Y/N) slowly drifts off. The constant fear of being attacked lingers in her mind and scares her awake once she's on the edge of tranquility. But, eventually, her breaths become longer and more relaxed. She's asleep.
Will stares down at her. She's beautiful. A unique beautiful. He's never met anyone like her, and that's what makes her so special. He knows that he likes her. He likes her a lot.
Will alters the position of his head and cranes his neck awkwardly. He leans down and kisses (Y/N)'s forehead. An innocent kiss. One he had learned from his mother when she was home to kiss him goodnight.
The feeling of her skin lingers on his lips. He gives a small giggle of exhilaration. Will's heart is warm and beats quickly, but a good quickly. He gently lays his head against the wall of Castle Byers. His cheek is snug against (Y/N)'s hair. He thinks it smells nice.
Even though Will is supposed to keep watch he can't help but let his exhaustion overcome him. The two children finally seem at peace as they both use each other for warmth and comfort. The atmosphere seems more tranquil and for a single moment the two forgot that their lives are in imminent danger.
♥︎
Joyce had told Mrs. (L/N) to meet her back at the Byer's house later that night. Joyce had to retrieve a new phone. The ominous call from the children somehow made the device inoperative. Hopper blamed this on the storm, however, Joyce knew that wasn't the case.
(Y/N)'s mother grabs her purse, one which looks modest as to not show off in front of Joyce. She knows that the Byers aren't as fortunate. Mrs. (L/N) pulls on her winter coat and makes her way towards the door. She moves in a brisk fashion to avoid any possible mishaps involving her husband.
Just as she grabs her car keys there is a jiggling of the door knob. The person at the door has realized that it's locked so they pull out their own set of keys. No. No, why now? Mrs. (L/N) pauses in her actions and stands completely still. Mr. (L/N) comes in through the front door.
He shuts the door and locks it before noticing his frozen wife, who stands only a few feet away from where he's just entered. He looks up, almost startled, and furrows his eyebrows.
"Where're you going?" He doesn't move away from the door.
"Out," Mrs. (L/N) knows that she shouldn't feel frightened, but nevertheless she does.
"Where?" His position straightens and he has a slight grimace plastered across his face. It's obvious what he thinks she's doing. There isn't exactly a reason for her to stay faithful to him. But still. He's dominant; he's in charge. His ego tells him he has to be.
Mrs. (L/N) knows that he suspects her of going out with another man. He's never been fully trustful of her. But, she doesn't exactly want him to know that she's going to be with Joyce Byers either. He has certain opinions of people who seem to have a poor notoriety. "I'm going out with some girl friends," She gives him a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. (Y/N)'s mother makes her way for the door and reaches her hand out to turn the knob.
Mr. (L/N) smashes his hand into the doorknob, the door creaks because of the shift in pressure. "Maybe," he sighs and touches Mrs. (L/N)'s elbow gently, "Maybe, you should stay here," He gives (Y/N)'s mother an intimidating look, although he tried to look comforting.
"No. We already had this planned," Mrs. (L/N) stares timidly up at her husband, being careful not to move for the fear of him grabbing at her harshly.
"I noticed your car is parked differently," Mr. (L/N) says and shifts his grip to his wife's forearm. A greater panic enters her system. "Where were you today?" His tone is monotonous yet she can still feel the malice dripping from each word.
Should I tell the truth? I think it would hurt me more if I didn't. Mrs. (L/N) backs up swiftly and breaks the contact between her and her husband. "I was with Joyce Byers," her tone becomes strong and steady. Nothing is going to stop her from possibly finding her daughter.
Confusion reaches the features of Mr. (L/N), "Joyce Byers? Why're you hanging around with Joyce Byers?" He cannot understand why a clean-cut wife like his would be hanging out with the rumored crazy woman of Hawkins.
"She feels," Mrs. (L/N) trails off. Can I really tell my husband this? He'll think I'm crazy? But I'll really go crazy if I can't find (Y/N), "She feels like she has a lead. A lead to finding the children," Her voice is still strong but quivers at the presence of her husband's face which grows with concern.
"Hanging around with her won't do any good," His face comes closer to hers and he shifts his grip so that his hands are enclosed on her upper arms.
(Y/N)'s mother becomes frantic and attempts to pull back out of her husband's grip. "She could help me find (Y/N)! We can find (Y/N)! We might--"
"She's insane! You're really going to give into her stories! How naïve are you?" Now Mr. (L/N) is yelling at his wife. Cords stand out on his neck. He cannot stand the disobedience. His brain is slightly foggy, alcohol hindering him from being a decent human. He's been drinking more to forget. To forget that (Y/N) is missing. To forget that it's his fault, "You're going to stay here and-" His grip is tight on her arms.
"You're hurting me!" Mrs. (L/N) bucks her arms back and forth to loosen the grip, it's no use.
"And..and! Stay here! You're staying here, do you understand!" She's frozen. His breath is hot in her face. The smell of alcohol wafts to her nose. His eyes burn deep into her skin. His hands hurt. They're hurting. "I said, do you under--"
"No!" A final yank is given and Mrs. (Y/N) comes free of her husband's grip. She rockets backwards and hits her lower back on a sharp corner. However, at the moment, she pays no attention to that. "Don't you dare touch me! Don't you dare!" She stands hunched at the shoulders. Her words are flooded with an onslaught of heavy sobs. "I'm going out that door," She thrusts her pointer finger forward. "And...and," Her words trip on her own whimpers, "And I'm going over to Joyce Byers house!" Mrs. (L/N) rushes forward towards the door and prys her husband's hand away from the knob. "And d*mn it, I'm going to find my daughter!" She unlocks the door and swings it open so forcefully that it crashes against the wall with a Bang!
Mr. (L/N) watches his wife storm down the driveway and get into her car, each movement she makes is embedded with a fleck of anger. He's stunned almost to the point of pure terror. He'd lost control. Now what? He's supposed to be the leader. He's supposed to be the alpha. That's all he has. But, that's almost been stripped completely away from him. He should be able to control himself, to have some dignity. But, he chose to drink. A mistake he wishes he'd stop making. But, he knows he can't. He feels helpless. Just as he'd made his wife feel. He's lost to addiction. A slave to it's properties. And resisting would feel just as bad.
Mrs. (L/N)'s car speeds away as Mr. (L/N) stands adjacent to the open door, darkness flooding into the home. He is in this moment, entirely stunned.
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Hello friends! I'm sorry for the wait! The next chapter will be out next weekend, I have a plan for this one so it'll be in the making very soon. Thank you so much for the reads and votes!!! The support is amazing and I'd love to see what you have to say! ~WoodCeiling♡
*THE CHARACTERS, THEME, AND SOME DIALOGUE BELONG TO STRANGER THINGS AND THE DUFFER BROTHERS*