In the Byers' house, articles about the Hawkins Lab and it's origins litter the coffee table. Joyce, Hopper, Mr. and Mrs. (L/N) sit at the kitchen table. "Look, we gotta go through this again," Joyce says, a lit cigarette resting between her index and middle finger.
"I told you everything that we saw," Mr. (L/N) responds grumpily, him and Hopper have repeated their tale multiple times for Joyce and she still isn't satisfied. Even Mrs. (L/N) doesn't understand why Joyce continues to request the details of the story again and again.
"Oh, gosh. Tell me again," However, Joyce Byers, if anything, is persistent. So, to please the woman, Hopper gives in.
"Upstairs or downstairs?" He asks. Mr. (L/N) sighs and rests his forehead on the table for a few seconds before lifting it up again. It's gotten dark outside and it has been a pretty tiring week, everyone here is most certainly sleep deprived.
"Upstairs," Joyce puts the cigarette into her mouth and takes a long drag of it.
"There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was..." Hopper also has a cigarette sitting in his hand whilst he speaks. He inhales, bored of his own story, "There was this kid's room."
"How do you know it was a kid's room?" Joyce asks, annoyed that Hopper's glazing over certain things and isn't going into as much detail as she wants.
"More like a prison," Mr. (L/N) adds in.
"So why would you think it was a kid's room, then?" Joyce turns to both men during her question, aiming it at the two of them.
Hopper isn't a man who likes to repeat himself, so speaking to Joyce right now feels like a chore, "Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal—" Joyce widens her eyes due to this new information.
"You didn't say there was a drawing,"
"Yeah, there was a drawing of a..." Hopper trails off, forgetting what he'd saw. He turns to Mr. (L/N) for help, thankfully the man remembers.
"An adult and a child," (Y/N)'s father says reminding the man. Hopper snaps his fingers as he remembers.
"It said '11' on it," The Chief adds.
"Was it good?" Joyce asks. Mrs. (L/N) really doesn't understand the relevance of all this information. She honestly, like her husband, just wants to go home and get some sleep. The smell of the cigarettes are giving her a headache and making her a bit irritable.
"It was a kid's drawing, Joyce. It was stick figures," Hopper says, irked by the woman's countless questions. Joyce sighs and stands up. The drowsy group watches her go to a table and retrieve a piece of lined paper. She returns to the kitchen table and slams the paper down. On it is Will's drawing of the wizard shooting green fireballs alongside his friends' characters.
"Wasn't Will," she sits back down, takes another drag of her cigarette, and gestures to the drawing which she had placed directly in front of Hopper. The adults observe it and realize that it is pretty good for a twelve-year-old. Hopper rises from his chair with a look of realization. He heads for the living room.
"Earl," he says quietly, making his way over to the couch. The other adults begin to stand up and make their way over to the man, "Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny," Hopper speaks slowly so his words are more clear. Hopper and Joyce sit below the alphabet lights while the (L/N)'s just stand around the table, bending over as to better see the contents spread out on the surface, "Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe..." Hopper begins shuffling through the papers spread out on the coffee table.
"Wait...maybe, it wasn't?" Joyce asks, not really understanding where Hopper is leading them.
"Look..." Hopper picks up the article he was searching for and holds it close to him and Joyce, the other couple shuffles over so that they can see it as well, "This woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government...now the claims came to nothing, but what if..." He stares off, breathing heavily from all the information he's been rapidly spilling out, "I mean, what if this whole time I've been...I've been looking for Will and (Y/N)...I've been chasing after some other kid?" He gives everyone in the room a sober look. They all stare at the article, not really understanding what this all means. Are they close to finding their children or have they been getting farther away from the truth? Does all of this somehow connect and maybe they're on the right track? Only time will tell.
♥︎
The group had talked until the early morning. Finally, Mr. and Mrs. (L/N) had parted ways with Joyce and Hopper, who rode off together in search of Terry Ives.
The (L/N)'s had a quiet ride home and restlessly entered their comfortable house. Although both are far from comfortable. Staying still and doing nothing in a situation like this is nearly impossible. Their daughter is in some dimension being hunted by a monster. How can they sit still and wait?
Mr. (L/N) had planned on getting some sleep, but watching his wife pace around the kitchen, he knows that sleep isn't on her agenda. So, Mr. (L/N) begins preparing her and himself some coffee.
"I just...I don't understand," (Y/N)'s mother says, rooting out her unanswered questions.
"Don't understand what?" (Y/N)'s father asks nonchalantly at the coffee machine.
"Remember...Hopper said (Y/N)...She didn't go straight home that night. She went with Will towards his house. Why? Why didn't she come right home?" Mrs. (L/N) asks, trying to, in her head, go over any reason why (Y/N) would do that. Mr. (L/N)'s heart jumps. "I mean...she could've wanted to stay over his house...but, she would have asked us first...She always asked us first," Mr. (L/N)'s anxiety spikes. He feels extremely guilty. And that's because he knows why his daughter didn't come home that night. It's his fault she's gone. He's the reason why she didn't ride right back to safety.
Mr. (L/N) takes a deep breath. He grabs the two coffee cups which he has filled with the dark, caffeinated liquid and clears his throat, "Let's sit down for a second," Mrs. (L/N) follows her husband to the kitchen table and sits down in a chair across from him, a bit concerned by the serious tone in his voice.
(Y/N)'s father has had a fair share of fights with his wife. Never has he tried to be as delicate as he has to be right now. He wants to make things better and to do that he has to be honest. Too bad the truth hurts.
Mr. (L/N) takes a long sip of the hot coffee, knowing that the burn isn't going to be anywhere near as bad as his wife's reaction to what he's about to say. "So, I...uh..." He really isn't sure how to go about saying this, but he knows that he just has to bite the bullet and say it, "I know why (Y/N) didn't come home that night," There's no going back now.
"What?" Mrs. (L/N) is confused, yet worried. What has he been hiding from her?
♥︎
Will and (Y/N) went back to Castle Byers defeated. It took a little navigating to find the way back because of the reckless searching they'd done. But, now they're back "safe". They are both worn down, but not quite tired because of the fact that they just slept for a whole day. Although they are sluggish due to the lack of oxygen and proper nutrients in their bodies. They haven't seen sunlight for a few unbearable days. Everything here is dark and deteriorating.
They sit silently on the goopy cushion, fears and regrets intruding their thoughts. A certain regret looms over (Y/N). Something she should have told Will a few nights ago in the comfort of Hawkins. "Will?" (Y/N) asks, gaining the attention of the disconnected boy to her left.
"Yeah?" He responds weakly, the state of both children is truly heartbreaking, they're falling apart.
The girl attempts to wet her chapped lips, so that speaking can be made easier, however this attempt fails because her tongue is dry as well, "I...remember that night, when we were riding home...remember you asked me why I didn't go straight home?" Will is now paying close attention. He knows this tone of voice. He knows his friend is about to say something serious.
♥︎
"Why? Why didn't she come home?" Mrs. (L/N) questions, severity lines her voice.
"You were out grocery shopping. It was early, maybe seven or eight in the morning...I was hungover...I'd actually also had some more to drink when I woke up...I had a hard day at work. I know that's not an excuse but that's why I'd done it. I just...wasn't in the right state of mind."
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"I went downstairs...I was on my way to Mike's house for the campaign and my dad was on the couch. I think...I could tell he was drinking, umm...alcohol. He wasn't acting right and there were bottles next to him on the coffee table. I didn't know he did that kinda stuff," Will furrows his eyebrows. He barely ever saw (Y/N)'s father since he was always so busy, however, when he did see him, the man was very serious and distant. He couldn't imagine the nicely-dressed businessman as an unruly drunk.
♥︎
Mrs. (L/N) can feel her heart pumping, terrified of how her husband's drinking could possibly connect to their daughter's disappearance. It definitely cannot be good. Mr. (L/N) tries to word what he says as carefully as possible, not wanting to create too much of an uproar, "I remember...she came downstairs with her backpack on, she was going to the Wheeler's. But, she stopped and stared at me. She was surprised. She hadn't seen me like that before," Mr. (L/N) begins to feel even more disgusted by himself, how could he let his daughter's opinion of him sink even lower, how could he let her see him so disoriented? "Everything's a bit fuzzy...I can't remember very well...but, I do remember, I got off the couch..."
♥︎
"And he came towards me, but super slowly, like he couldn't balance very good," (Y/N), unlike her father, remembers every detail, "He asked me what I was doing. Why I was staring. And I didn't really know what to say. So, I said that I was going to Mike's and that I didn't mean to stare. I wanted to leave, so I started to walk away," Will stares intently at the girl's shifting eyes, "But, he stood in front of me..."
♥︎
"I was just being a huge d*ck. I was giving her a hard time. Asking her what she was looking at," (Y/N)'s mother is filled with anticipation, she just wants her husband to get to the point.
♥︎
"He wouldn't let me leave. He kept asking me questions and he was angry. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. And then he..." (Y/N) pauses and recollects herself, she really doesn't want to cry, but she knows it's inevitable, "He started to call me names and say just...a bunch of mean stuff...like," her voice quivers and she feels her eyes collect fresh tears. Will feels deeply sympathetic for the girl to the right of him, he hates to see her upset. Yes, they've both shed tears of fear multiple times because of the situation they're in. However, the tears she sheds now comes from the true pain she's experienced in a place where she's supposed to be safe. With a person who's supposed to protect her. "He called me 'weird' and told me no one likes me...he said I hang out with rejects and that I should try liking something normal...try hanging out with girls...try to look prettier," shallow sobs embed themselves in between her words. She wipes the tears from her eyes before they can fall too far, however they just keep falling. "I know that's the stuff kids usually say to us at school...I'm used to it from them...But to hear it...To hear my dad say it to me...It was different...It hurt way more. I don't know why, it just did," She wipes snot from her nose.
♥︎
"I called her names. I was an a*s. She started to cry and I called her a baby. I just...I said some really mean things. And she kept crying. So, I got mad..." (Y/N)'s father inhales, the look on his wife's face makes it clear that what he's already done is bad enough. She isn't going to like the rest of the story.
♥︎
"He told me to stop crying...But I couldn't. He...he took me by my wrist and...he brought me outside..." Will feels adrenaline rush through his body and his face goes slightly paler, he dreads his friend's next words.
♥︎
"I went into the shed and...I unlocked the gun cabinet..." Mrs. (L/N) feels her heart speed up an unhealthy amount. She had almost completely forgotten about the gun they owned. Her husband had it mainly for business trips where they'd go hunting. That is the only reason he owned it. The thing went untouched in a dusty case most of the time. The thought of something so dangerous in the same setting as her daughter worried her to the core.
♥︎
"My dad...he came out of the shed with a gun..." The girl pauses to let out a few deep, echoey sobs. Will's eyes go wide. "I was scared...but I couldn't run...He pointed it at me...And held it there for a long time..."
♥︎
"I didn't pull the trigger. I didn't even cock the thing. I just stood there with it pointed there...and after a while I stormed back into the shed to put it back. When I walked out she was gone. That's the last time I saw her," a tear falls from the remorseful man's eye. He puts his head into his hands and his shoulders heave up and down. Mrs. (L/N) sits speechless, her jaw clenched.
♥︎
It's (Y/N)'s turn to break down, again. She slouches and sobs heavily, her vision is fully obstructed by her tears. Will's eyes are also glossed over. He's upset that she even had that terrifying encounter in the first place, but for that to possibly be her last encounter with a parent. That's heartbreaking. Will guides the girl to him, letting her know it's okay that she uses him for comfort. She quickly wraps her arms around his neck and lets her tears soak his shoulder. He embraces (Y/N) back whispering soothing words to her, doing his best to help her feel okay again. That's all he wants. He wants them to both feel okay again. Okay and safe. Is that so much to ask?
♥︎
Mrs. (L/N) exhales sharply. She runs her hands through her hair and stands up, the chair scraping against the floor as she does so. Without saying a word the fuming woman storms out of the kitchen and finds herself in her daughter's room.
She walks carefully through it, making sure not to disturb a single thing. She examines framed pictures on (Y/N)'s shelf. One photograph shows her daughter and her close friends holding a trophy they won at a science fair. She'd been very proud watching her daughter earn the award. Seeing her (Y/N) grin ear to ear is the one thing she treasures the most. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. She's taken care of (Y/N) her whole life. She's tried to keep (Y/N) on the right path morally and she's given her all in raising the young girl. Really she thought she'd done an acceptable job. (Y/N)'s mother frowns at the fact that she'd done everything to help her child, the most important thing in the world to her, only to have her husband ruin everything.
Mrs. (L/N) sits neatly on her daughter's disheveled bed, the mother hasn't touched it since (Y/N) went missing. The woman touches the smooth fabric of the comforter and is drawn into a messy sob. Her head falls to her hands. The reality of never seeing her daughter again is all too much. Everything is all too much. She just wants to see her again, to hug her again. She just wants (Y/N) back. And she'll do absolutely anything to make that happen. Anything.
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Hi! I hope everyone is doing well! Thank you all so much for all of the reads and kind comments. I'm so glad you're enjoying my story♥︎ This is just a reminder to always use gun safety. If you're feeling lost talk to someone. Even if you feel like you don't have a single person to talk to, there's always someone willing to listen♥︎ Stay safe and healthy ~WoodCeiling♥︎
*THE CHARACTERS, THEME, AND SOME DIALOGUE BELONG TO STRANGER THINGS AND THE DUFFER BROTHERS*