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hawthorneonarainyday · 1 year

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Somewhere Only We Know.

Art by the amazing Rakunaito ! This is a little something I found on my laptop today. It's been a while since I wrote it and it's not anything grand, but maybe some of you will enjoy it anyway! I whipped it up while I was in my depressive episode, which may explain it's tone but hey. At least I wrote something, right? Summary ~ An old picnic table, hidden somewhere in the forest and three people who unexpectedly stumble upon each other. What will they find out there, hidden behind rows and rows of trees and silence? Is it friendship? Love? Or is it all doomed to crash and burn? Attention! - This little thing is rather sad and depressing, so please read it only if you're in the right headspace! If you're not, don't force yourself. It will wait here until you're ready! Information you might need ♥ ~ Word Count: 8764 3rd Person (She/Her) It's an OC this time! In this One-Shot you will find: A lot of weather-talk, angst, canon typical violence, spoilers for season 2, 3, 4 and tons of cursing. There will be mentions of hospitals, injuries, grief, loss, death, funerals, smoking, trauma and unrequited love. Enjoy ♥

Thursday, the 13th of December 1984

The day was cold and dark. Sharp winds rushed through the small town of Hawkins, ushering people along the sidewalks much quicker than usual. Noses were turning red and runny, eyes stinging from the unceasing winter winds as goosebumps rose where cold touched unhidden skin. It was a typical winter day in Indiana, merely missing some rain or sleet to be absolutely standard. Knowing this good for nothing town, it wouldn’t be too long before it came. Its inhabitants knew, of course, and thus preferred to huddle together inside, far away from the cold and the wet that Indiana became during this time of year.

Well, all but one that was.

One girl, clearly not one of the town natives, was outside, braving the cold with little to no regard to the strange glances people cast her way. It didn’t happen too often anyway, not where she sat; elbows perched on a lone picknick table surrounded by trees and effectively hidden from view. There were a couple odd stragglers every now and again, mostly kids looking to strike a deal with Hawkins Highs famed freak. It was few and far between, most of them stopping and turning the moment they saw the weird blonde sitting where they expected to find Eddie Munson.

Her eyes were closed, pale skin tinted pink by prolonged exposure to the biting cold. Wind would mess up her shaggy hair, whipping the bleached strands about without mercy. Despite the freezing temperatures her jacket was left open; her Ramones shirt exposed as cold gales tickled her skin and left goosebumps in their wake.

It was strange view for most, the weird girl sitting outside all pale and washed out in her dark ‘scary’ clothes; sitting there like she was enjoying every freezing gale. Like she was born from ice itself. And it was true too. To her, it was pure bliss. She’d spent weeks cooped up inside, unable to move about as she pleased and desperate to feel anything but the stuffy, dry air of her hospital room. Sitting there in the freezing cold made her feel alive, like she’d finally got a piece of her life back. Like she finally got her freedom back.

Leaves were rustling under someone’s steps, heavy and confident a few metres away. They were quickly coming closer, clearly knowing where they were headed, but she didn’t bother opening her eyes. She knew who it was, used to the stomping by now.

“You’ll end up frostbitten if you sit here like that.” Her lips curled up at the sound of his voice, gruff and sharp like the wind and becoming more familiar by the day.

“That’d just make me look even more badarse, and you know that’s all I long for.” The boy snorted, dropping down onto the bench across from her. The old bench groaned under his ruthless plummeting and she wouldn’t have been surprised to see it break one of these days. She’d be laughing the moment it did. The image of Billy Hargrove sitting on his arse with surprise and annoyance on his face was just pure gold.

“What are you grinning for?” Snorting, she opened her eyes and turned. Blue met blue when the two made eye contact, both raising a mocking brow at each other.

“There’s something called emotions, Hargrove.” The way she said his name was always foreign to his ears, her accent thick on the ‘a’ and ‘o’. “Odd concept, I know, but maybe summit worth looking into.” A pack of cigarettes was flung his way with little care and he barely managed to stop them from smacking his face. It made her grin widen, his scowl as he fingered one of the smokes out of its papery prison. She held out her hand for his lighter, hers no good in the wind, and he passed it to her with rolling eyes.

“Bite me, Bessie.”

Bessie.

Back home, no one ever called her that. She was always just Liz or Lizzy, sometimes Elizabeth or Lizbeth, but never Bessie. The Americans in this small town, however, seemed drawn to that one, drawn to Bess or Bessie. It was like she was someone else here, as if crossing the ocean killed Lizzy and turned her into ‘Bess’. The odd girl from England that came to stay in little old Hawkins after her parents passed away, too scared to spend her life all alone in a town like Doncaster.

First, people had been excited about the town’s newest addition, the mysterious niece of Claudia Henderson. Many knew of her; few remembered her from when she was little. They remembered freckly girl with dark blonde hair and huge blue eyes that loved to drag the Harrington boy out of his room and into all sorts of shenanigans during summer time visits.

That had been lifetimes ago, though.

The woman that got out of the car, clad in all black and ramped up on attitude, was not the same she’d been all those years ago. She’d always been rebellious, certainly, but never like this. Never in ways that counted as ‘too much’ for little Hawkins. Never enough to be considered a troublemaker from the moment she’d arrived. It wasn’t a label she deserved, not by far. Elizabeth was many things, but she didn’t bother anyone. Not until they bothered her. A concept, that seemed foreign to the small-town folk, it seemed.

She didn’t care, though; wasn’t too worried about the tiny town’s population as a whole. In the end, she was here for one thing and one thing only – family. She’d come here for the only family she had left, her cocky cousin and her cat crazed aunt, and the rest of Hawkins could never change that. For her family, she could live with the disapproving glances and snarky comments she received. They rolled off her like water off a ducks back.

“Not today, Hargrove, I’m knackered.” Could a frown make noises? Because she was quite sure she could hear his from where she sat, her back turned to him. “Tired. I meant I’m tired.”

“How long have you been sitting here?”

“Couple hours.” He scoffed, but kept quiet. Billy knew he couldn’t really say anything, seeing as he himself had spent hours on end out here; hiding away from everyone and everything. It was the beauty of this place, how secluded it was. Nobody knew they came here, so nobody would come looking for them. If someone wandered by in search for Munson, they usually didn’t pay attention to who else was sitting there. No one wanted to be seen while ‘making a deal with the devil’, so they took off and ran the moment they noticed they weren’t alone.

Speak of the devil.

“No way.” A voice called over the clearing, the blonde² turning towards the new arrival. “Henderson is that you!?” There he stood, a grinning Eddie Munson in all his glory with bright eyes and blood dripping down his face. Bess and Billy sat up, shared frowns pulling at their features and Eddie had half a mind to mention how similar they looked right then, their brows furrowed deep over their blue eyes, but he didn’t. No, he kept quiet and skipped over to them, flinging blood left and right with every hop.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Billys voice was harsh, harsh enough to have Eddie choose the seat next to Bess. The girl all the while was scrambling for her bandana, untying it with rough fingers.

“Another round of ‘Torment the Freak!’, every jock’s game of choice.” The black and white fabric fell away from her wrist and she pressed it against Eddies nose. Wincing, he nodded towards Billy. “No offence, man.” Eddies voice was nasally and muddled by her fingers and the fabric, his face scrunching up more with every bit of pressure she applied.

“I’m no jock.”

“Right. You just happen to play basketball.” It was what he always said, and honestly? They believed him. It was clear that Billy didn’t care about the sport and all the things that came attached with it. He liked winning, he liked attention. That was it. But that didn’t mean they let him off easily, not when teasing him was so much more fun. “And of course you’re just popular because of your radiant personality.” Bess chuckled and Billy rolled his eyes. “Radiant personality and those jeans. Am I right, Henderson?”

“Don’t start.” That had both Billy and Eddie grin, the boys eyeing her with unhidden amusement. It wasn’t a secret that she’d been looking every now and again, but what was a girl to do? His jeans were basically moulded to his arse, it would be a shame to let that go to waste. Especially when no one was around to see. It was a sitting duck for Eddie and Billy, obviously.

“Aw, come on. It’s basically flatt-aigh!” She’d jabbed the bandana against his nose, a warning, and Eddie’s eyes watered. “Damn, Henderson, be gentle with me. I’m a wounded man, alright?” She rolled her eyes, softly kicking his shin.

“It’s Fraser-Henderson, you muppet. I’ve told you a million times by now.”

“Nah, Henderson. That’s too long.” Scowling, Bess stubbed his nose once more, earning another hiss.

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

“You should go see a doctor, chap.”

“Uh, you mean I should smoke some weed and hope that I don’t end up with a crooked nose? Because that’s definitely what I’m planning on doing.” Eddie chuckled, grinning despite the blood still trickling into the bandana. “A doctor, right. Good joke.” She sighed.

“Who did that to you? Hagan again?”

“No, actually, this time it was Carver!” He wiggled his fingers happily. “Another young knight has tried and failed to defeat the evil spawn of Satan!”

“Grant, just what this bullshit town needs.” It was already shock full of short-sighted morons and apparently, there were more to come. “More wankers roaming the streets.” The metalhead cooed, hands clasping over his chest as he blinked at her.

“Look at you, your majesty, sounding like one of us already. Hargrove, man, you gotta take her as an example. A mere year and she’s already one of Hawkins finest!” Billy just grunted something, stubbing the cigarette on the wooden table with no regard for the damage it did. The wood was already starting to turn black, scarred by the constant abuse it was faced with.

“Munson, I swear to all things holy - I’ll eat your dumb face for breakfast if you don’t stop with that bloody ‘your majesty’ rubbish.” The boy cackled, unphased by her threats. He knew she hated it, which is particularly why he used it.

“And that is why the queen of demons in my campaign is based on you, Henderson.”

“God, I hate you.” The bleeding stopped, his blood finally clotting enough. She tossed the bandana onto the table before wiping her hand on his shirt. “You and that stupid game.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you tried it!” Billy tossed her cigarettes over, after helping himself to another one of course. With little regard for his sore skin, Bess shoved a fag between Eddies lips and flicked Billys lighter right after. Once it was burning, Eddie took over the lighter duty, lighting up her and Billys cigarettes one after the other.

“Munson. I’m working class, alright? Don’t make me out to be a tory. No one likes those.” Whatever any of that meant. Both Billy and Eddie weren’t really up to par with England and whatever was happening around there and neither of them cared all too much. They weren’t ever going to go there anyway.

“Yeah, no clue what you’re saying.” It was unnecessary to say it, because Bess knew. The fact that Americans were rarely interested in any country that wasn’t theirs was well known. Actually, that had always been something her mum had nagged about, how disinterested her sister and the rest of their family were about her own life in England. “Anyway! How’s it going, Henderson? Didn’t think we’d see you here today, as delighted as I am.”

Nobody had, to be honest. Early November, word of her scuffle with a ‘mystery animal’ spread around town like lightning. It was rare around these parts, for someone to get attacked. Bess had been the talk of the town, even people who’d never heard of her now knowing her name and face. Obviously no one knew exactly what had happened or how bad it had been, they just knew that it had been bad. It was pretty obvious with how jittery Harrington had been, his time split between school and the hospital for nearly all of November.

It must have been looked similar for little Dustin Henderson and his mother, both just doing the necessary thing before joining Bess in her recovery. In the end, the Henderson niece had to spend a couple of weeks in the hospital to recuperate and her released hat been postponed again and again. An infection here, a ripped stitch there and bang. Another week added to her sentence. She’d been released only yesterday, a fact she doubted anyone knew. Most had been much too focussed on the whole ‘mauled by something’ part.

“I’m all stitched up and will sport some killer scars not too far in the future, if that is what you mean.”

“Nice. You’re gonna look super badass.” She grinned, eyes flickering with something neither of the boys could properly identify just yet. It looked odd, like fear or maybe resignation? Nothing they knew from the girl, that was for sure.

“I’d better. I earned that.” Shaking her head, she used the cigarette to point at both of the boys, ash flinging around with every move. “Have you ever been cooped up in a hospital room for a month while everybody treats you like you like a delicate flower? Like you’re one of those fucking expensive china sets? You know, one of those that break when your tea is too hot?”

“That sounds fucking useless.” Billy shook his head. “Rich people.”

“I agree, man. We’ve got three mugs in the trailer, two of which are chipped. But none of which because the coffee was too hot.”

“Focus, lads.” Bess groaned, pushing the bleached blonde hair out of her face with fluttery fingers. “What I mean is: They didn’t even allow me to crank a fucking window, jabbering something about ‘infection’ and ‘cold’ and shit.” She scoffed. “It’s not like I lost my spleen or anything, I’m fine. And you don’t get a cold from sitting in the cold anyway.” That was not how viruses and bacteria worked, but neither her aunt nor Dustin nor Steve had listened to reason. “They act like I’m going to drop dead because of a spirited sneeze. You know what’s actually going to have me drop dead?” She didn’t give them time to answer. “It’s the stupid amount of debt I raked up in this country because apparently you guys hate universal health care.” The thought of the bill had her feel extremely nauseous. It was high, to high for this moment in her life. Honestly, to high for something she couldn’t control. “I mean, have you seen what these people charge you for? At this point I wouldn’t be surprised to be charged for breathing their air. Maybe I am and I just haven’t seen it, because I damn near fainted when they handed me the bill.” Her knees had given in just a tiny bit and she’d had to use to wall to keep standing. Stupid, because it looked really wrong from the outside. “Which, of course, had my aunt and Steve freak out. I had to run straight out of the hospital before they could drag me back for another round of check ups that I can’t afford.” The brunette patted her shoulder with a sympathetic sigh and she rubbed her forehead. “Next time, make sure they just leave me to die in a ditch somewhere.”

“Sure, I’ll make sure Harrington gets the message. He was the one to drag you back, right?” Bess nodded, eyes falling to the table at the memory.

Mystery animal.

The term nearly had her scoff the first time she’d heard it. But sure, how else would they explain? What else was Dustin supposed to tell his mum? That his cousin and her childhood summer-friend had taken him and his little friends to hunt down some venus flytrap-dog mutant monsters and one of them had managed to jump her and drag her away when she tried to protect him? Yeah, no, that would get him a nice bed at Penhurst.

So ‘weird animal’ was what they went with. They gave weird descriptions about height and appearance – huge claws and a ton of teeth! – and the people responsible left more confused than they came. In the end, the official reports settled for a stray cougar. If only.

Bess herself didn’t remember much about the whole night, barely enough to remember the thing jumping her after she’d pushed Dustin aside. Then there was a whole lot of pain, the feeling of being dragged away from the rest of them and then there was nothing. First, she’d thought that she’d fainted. But apparently, she’d been up and running the minute Steve had batted the demobitch away, ushering the kids out of the tunnels as if she wasn’t hurt at all. Only after they were all out and halfway at Steve’s car had she finally dropped down into nothingness, leaving the kids and Steve to drag her towards the car and into the hospital.

“You okay, Henderson?” Bess closed her eyes and sighed, shoving the memory back down as far as she could.

“Peachy.” She offered the two of them a smile. “Can’t afford therapy anyway.” Billy snorted and Eddie chuckled, leaning onto the table.

“Surprised they let you leave if they were bein’ all overprotective.” Her face scrunched up guiltily at Billy’s words, a minute reaction she couldn’t control and Eddie gasped.

“No way. You totally ran off, didn’t you?” The metalhead whistled, a sharp sound that got lost in the wind and she just shrugged.

“I had no other choice. They wouldn’t have let me leave alone.” Stubbing her cigarettes, she shrugged. “I just needed a moment of peace, that’s all.” And a moment away from Steve and Dustin, playing cards and pretending that they weren’t watching her while totally watching her.

All of them understood. Of course they did.

It was what this place was about.

An escape, a way to catch a breath away from prying eyes. Here, at the old, gruffy table just outside of school bounds, they could settle back and be who they were. No one was there to see Billy shed his machismo, see the version of him that was more likable than the one he usually presented. They couldn’t see Eddie drop his continuous smile the minute he wandered out into the forest. Couldn’t see Bess, quiet and tired.

The three of them were so used to pretending, so used to hiding themselves and everything that made them vulnerable, that their skin felt like a prison some days. Holding in, Holding back, Holding up – always pretending. Pretending to not be hurt, to not be tired and afraid, desperately acting like they were all okay when they simply weren’t.

Out here, they could simply be. They’d shed their skins, left their armour by the entrance of the forest without looking back. They would crawl into the forest, battered, and bruised, to lick their wounds in silence.

The first time they’d ran into each other had been difficult. They hadn’t been snarling at each other, not like they would have been if they’d met anywhere else. No, they were much too tired for that. But it had been difficult to relax, to let go and tune into the silence they so desperately craved while the other was right there, next to them. But they’d gotten used to it, used to the fragile peace they’d made in here.

Fragile peace that had turned to fragile friendship at some point. Neither said it, but they knew they cared about each other. Each and everyone of them was looking forward to this, this meeting with unlikely friends. Friends, that only lasted as far as the trees did. The second they stepped out of here; they stopped existing in the same bubble. Those people from the forest were no more, hardened strangers taking their place.

Their unspoken agreement.

Outside of the forest, there would be nothing between them. No friendly nods, no rescuing each other from whatever danger – nothing. One could place the three of them right next to each other and nobody would be able to tell that they knew each other. Not a hint of recognition, of acknowledgement would be shared. Like they were nothing at all.

“What about that guy?” Bess’ eyes closed as she allowed the wind to brush by her face. She was smiling, a soft tilt to her lips that said nothing and everything. It was a question Billy asked every time they met, never ceasing. His way of showing interest.

“Back to being desperately in love with someone else.” Billy sighed. Eddie sighed. The entire forest sighed. But she just smiled on, opening her eyes to take the boys in. “What about you lads? What did I miss?” They stayed quiet and she snorted. “Come on, you can’t tell me that nothing happened all month.” Eddie looked around the forest, focusing on nothing in particular and behind her, Billy was tapping against the table in some off cut rhythm. “Hmmh, by all means, please keep it to yourself.”

“I might not graduate again.” They turned towards Eddie; brows pinched together.

“What?”

“Wait, you guys graduate in May, right?” Billy nodded and she focused on Eddie. “Then how do you know? There’s still so much time left.”

“Yeah, I dunno, Henderson. Higgins wasn’t really in a sunny ‘explaining’ mood. The bastard basically laughed in my face when I told him I was trying to graduate this year.”

“Don’t you think he was just trying to piss you off?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, man.” Eddie shrugged. “It felt less like that and more like he knew something I didn’t. You know the type of laugh I mean?” Who didn’t? Everyone had heard that cocky ‘if-you-only-knew’ laugh before.

A shared sigh ran through the forest.

“Fuck.” Bess bumped his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“This fucking town really has me in a chokehold, doesn’t it? I thought they wanted me gone as soon as possible, but it feels like they’re doing everything to keep me here.” He sighed. “If I’m not careful, I’ll end up dying here. And that would majorly suck. Who wants to die in fucking Hawkins, of all places?”

“I nearly did and you’re right. I’m not keen on trying again.” That had him gasp and turn, wincing.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t-“

“It’s fine. It’s true. Imagine dying here. No. God no.” She scoffed. “I mean, I’m counting my fucking days until I can leave this bloody place. I don’t want to be buried here, no way in hell.”

“Me neither.” Billy was playing with his earring, looking lost in thought. “That’s like eternal life sentencing. No, if I have to, I at least want to die far away from this cow ridden shit stain.” Blonde curls ruffled about as he shook his head. His eyes were lowered, stuck to the scrawly letters Eddie had carved into the table with his pen knife. “I’m goin’ back home. If it’s the last thing I do - I’m goin’ home.”

“Home? To California?” He nodded, wind tousling his hair. “That your plan for the months to come?”

“Yeah. I’m goin’ to graduate, work a summer job to save up some cash, and then I’m outta here. Fuck this town, fuck everything about it.” Short silence passed between them. None of them had anything to add, each lost in thought.

Not thought. Daydreams.

Dreams of a future anywhere but here. A future where they had left Hawkins behind; a faint memory by then.

They dreamed of a musician, couped up in a small studio apartment in New York. He wasn’t famous, not the next Van Halen, but he was doing well for himself. Some people knew him, knew his songs and that was more than enough. He was happy, because it was all his. He’d gotten there by himself and he got to make music.

They dreamed of a mechanic, living in a house by the beach. This one wasn’t on his own, no. He had a wife, a radiant woman with a kind smile, and kids. Even a god damn dog. It was something he rarely thought about, but he desperately wanted it. He wanted a family, a good family. And right then, he had it. He had a good, healthy family that was nothing like his own. And he was happy. He was happy, because he build something he’d never had, build a life that was filled with love and sunshine.

And they dreamed of a nurse, living anywhere but here. She didn’t care, didn’t know too many places around the US just yet. Anything would be better than this town, the town that was so hostile towards her. A certain guy was with her, all floppy brown hair and honeyed eyes. He was smiling. They both were. The place they shared wasn’t big, wasn’t much, but it was theirs. It was somewhere to feel at home, to feel like they belonged exactly the way they were. It was a place to heal.

It was all they ever wanted.

All of their dreams were different. Different places, different people, different lifetimes apart. In all of them, however, the main character would think back, just every once in a while. They’d think back to this place, to the old picnic table out in the forest and they’d remember. Remember the faces of the two people that didn’t force them to pretend. The two people that made life just that tiny bit more bearable.

“Well. Amen to that, Hargrove.”

It held finality, that one. It was the last statement for the day, the last thing they said before they got up and left wordlessly. Each got up and left the same way they came, without a greeting or a word goodbye. No questions as to when or if they’d meet again.

First Billy.

Then Eddie.

And finally, Bess.

Once again, the three of them left a part of themselves behind, hiding it away in the dark, lonely forest until they’d find their way back. Their armour was back on, well-worn and bloodied, until another day dawned; until another escape was deemed necessary to stop them from combusting.

Until then, only the forest remembered what had once been.

Wednesday, the 24th of July 1985

The day was bright and shimmering; unfiltered sun glaring down onto the fine people of Hawkins without mercy. Air was visibly curling above everything, the entire town heating up like father’s favourite grill. Asphalt burned beneath naked feet, the few silly enough to walk around without any shoes at all squealing with every hop-step they took. People were sticky and sweaty, half of them gloriously tanned by the continuous sun and others halfway through their sunburns; skin peeling away in dry, white flakes.

It was unbearably hot.

And yet people braved the outsides like it was nothing, squeezing themselves into the community pool and around the lakes. Mothers were yelling after their kids, waving bottles and tubes of SPF50 with the promise of ice cream or juice packs if they held still for just five minutes. Ice cream was dripping down sticky fingers, leaving a trail about for ants to find and enjoy. Bored lifeguards were yelling out orders every now and again, eyes on glued to the same old people every day.

Backyards were filled with teens lounging about in their friend’s pool, chatting, and splashing each other with water. If they were lucky, they managed to get their hands on a bottle of their parents Aperol and had the time of their lives, happily mixing it with cheap carbonated water for some unfiltered fun.

Most people were happy. They were having fun, laughing, and enjoying the last bits of sun they could get because summer wouldn’t last forever.

She, however, wasn’t like them.

To her, the whole day felt far away. Like she wasn’t part of what she saw, not part of the happiness and excitement that rattled the rest of the town. The emotion was there, vibrating around her all day, but she couldn’t touch it. It seemed to slip past her every day, no matter how often people tried to drag her into it.

And they did try, they truly did. Steve and the children would usher her around, drag her out into the world of the living every day like nothing had ever happened. They were desperate, she knew, desperate to move on and heal and they wanted to do it with her. Nobody wanted to leave her behind, not Robin, not Max, not Dustin.

For their sake, she pretended it worked.

She’d go along with them and be the life of the party. A bit of witty sarcasm here, some jokes there. She was the one who laughed the loudest out of all of them. At every chance she got, she would smile at them – all teeth and amusement. She clung to every little bit of serotonin she could find, act normal and happy and alive like the rest of them.

It didn’t last. It never did.

The minute everyone turned their backs, the smile fell off her face as if it had never been there. Maybe it truly hadn’t been. She wasn’t sure, the lines between real and fake slowly whirring together the longer she pretended to be okay. Honestly, she didn’t know how the rest of them did it, how the rest of them kept smiling after everything they’d seen. There were still traces of this year’s fallout left; bruises that had yet to vanish completely and scars that had yet to turn silver, and still everyone moved on like nothing ever happened.

Only she was left behind, the skeletons in her closet hanging onto her ankles with surprising vigour.

And that day, it had finally been enough. Too much.

She’d fled from society the minute no one was watching, making her escape in nothing but shorts, her ‘the clash’ shirt and flipflops. Her hair was wild and unkempt, fluttering in tandem with all the leaves with every rare gust of wind. The forest around her was quiet, no one coming here during this time of year. So, there was no one to see her, slumped at the old picnic table with her face hidden in the safety of her own arms when she wasn’t busy smoking away.

Good. She didn’t want to deal with them.

“No way.” A voice called over the clearing. “It’s Bessie Fraser-Henderson, is that you? I can’t believe it.” Eddie Munson was idling towards her, dressed all too warmly for the weather in long ripped jeans and a cut-up Iron Maiden shirt. The usual perm he sported was weak, the curls nearly falling flat against his head wherever they escaped the ponytail he’d collected the rest of them into. His nose was pinked, a mild sun burn making him look flushed and warm.

“Don’t you look all summery.” It earned her a smile as the boy flopped down next to her, his usual seat, and she rolled a cigarette over to him. “Didn’t think I’d see you here today, Eddie.”

“Likewise, Bessie, likewise. You haven’t been here in weeks.” She chuckled, leaning onto the table to watch him.

“Have you?”

“Nope.”

“Thought so.”

“But it’s good to see you all up and running again. What’s going on with you-shit.” His lighter clonked down onto the cool forest floor and he scrambled after it, belt rattling all too loudly in the forests silence.

“Oh, you know. Got tortured, drugged, and watched our friend die.” It was spoken quickly, barely audible behind the noise Eddie was making, and earned her a confused glance.

“What?” She chuckled.

“Clean your ears, Eddie. I think they’re clogged.” Sighing, she watched him light his cigarette before offering the lighter to her. “I said: Lost all three jobs, raked up more medical bills and am still stuck in this town. The usual.” The boy winced, leaning back against the table.

“Some new job on the horizon, then?”

“Nope, null. At this point, I’ll either have to become a prostitute or flee the country to escape this debt.” Eddie grinned, looking her up and down before nodding approvingly.

“You’d make a killer prostitute.”

“Of course that’s the thing you’d choose.”

“Hey, I’m nothing if not self-serving, Fraser. What am I ‘sposed to do? Smoke on my own? Nah nah, young lady, you’re better staying where I can see you. I still have a year to go.”

“So, you’re trying again?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. I hate this fucking place, but I need a degree. And I won’t let Higgins take that away from me, never.”

“Third time’s the Charme.”

“Totally! I’m gonna make ’86 my bitch.” She chuckled.

“Are you now?”

“Yeah! It’s gonna be my year. No, you know what? It’s gonna be our year, Fraser. I’ll give you half of mine.” This had her crack a smile, a real one at that.

“I’ll take it. Sounds nice.”

“Right? It’s gonna be awesome. I’ll get my degree and whoosh. Bye bye Hawkins. And you?”

“Not sure. I’m still waiting for Dustin to graduate, I think. That will be a couple of years. But who knows, maybe I’ll leave first. At this point, even just another day seems far too long.” Eddie nodded, accepting her answer wordlessly. Neither of them said anything, both waiting for input that didn’t come. The usual question that would have been grumbled across from them, always tossed her way without fail.

That day, Silence was their only answer.

It was heavy silence, weighed down by things no one could voice. Uncomfortable, stifling, if only to the two people left.

“What about that guy?” Eddie’s voice was brittle when he asked, his attempt at nonchalance failing magnificently. Her eyes squeezed shut, the question hitting to close to the thing that lay unspoken between them. They weren’t looking at each other; eyes glued to the burnt spot on the old table.

She liked her lips, suddenly all parched, before retching up the answer.

“Desperately looking for love, but never turning towards me.”

Silence.

“Shit.” He leaned forwards, ruffling his hair as he talked around the cigarette. “Never thought I’d miss the guy.”

There was no need to mention a name. They both knew who he was talking about. Bessie’s eyes watered as they focussed on the seat across; the one seat that was still waiting for its owner. Waiting, as if it wasn’t aware just yet.

Twenty-five days.

It had only been twenty-five days since he’d last sat there, on the 29th of June, talking about his summer job and the place he was headed for in just a month. The place he was supposed to leave for in just four days. Four days. The date he’d wanted to pack up and run, the 28th of July was so close. It would be easy; just get into that Camaro of his and drive. Drive past the pool, the farms, the town limit and out of Indiana. He’d had a route mapped out, a possible job lined up and enough money to keep himself afloat for a good while. Nobody would ever know where he’d gone, nobody but the two of them.

Just twenty-five days ago, Billy Hargrove still had a whole life to live.

It had been right there, close enough to touch. He didn’t say, but he’d been excited. It was easy to tell, the boy shimmering more than usual. His entire atmosphere had changed, turning light and happy – sparkly, like someone who’d finally seen the end of a long, dark tunnel. He’d radiated happiness and ease that had been missing before, looking much younger than they’d ever seen him. Sure, he was still the Billy they got to know, still the same golden boy and his gruff attitude that had entered Hawkins just a short while ago, but he was different all the same. The reckless, unspoken anger seemed to ebb down with every passing day and on that day twenty-five days ago, they’d actually heard him laugh.

Not snort. Not huff. Laugh.

He’d actually laughed at one of Eddie’s stupid jokes, nearly shocking the two of them into complete silence. Billy Hargrove didn’t laugh. He joked, he snorted or grumbled or rolled his eyes. If it was a bad day, he might’ve sneered. All his ways of being playful, of joking along with them. But he didn’t ever laugh, not one of those honest to god laughs that made your shoulders shake and your tummy hurt.

On Saturday, the 29th of June, he had. He’d laughed and they all felt it. They felt Billys future in the way he’d giggled away, in the relaxed way he’d carried himself. On the 29th of June, he didn’t leave without a word for the first time. He said his goodbyes, grinning at them as he ambled away into the forest.

On the 30th, he didn’t show.

On Wednesday, the 10th of July, Elizabeth and Eddie found themselves staring at a cold grey headstone with his name on it.

The cemetery had mostly been empty, only a few people showing up to say their goodbyes to the Hargrove boy and even less of them actually caring. Most of them were there for those surviving, for Max or her mother. Either that or they were there for show. But no one had truly come for Billy, no one bothering enough to actually get to know the boy before his name had become a mere casualty.

No one, but the two of them.

Eddie had been standing there, almost hidden behind the rest of them, in an ill-fitting tuxedo jacket and his usual ripped jeans. There was nothing on his face, no emotion for anyone to read. Nothing, but a fine watery line in his eyes, visible to only those who cared to pay attention to the famed freak. It was a mirror of Bessie’s own face, schooled into a carefully constructed mask of nothing. Her arched brows and empty eyes almost seemed haughty, her title as one of Hawkins bitchiest proven right once again. It was what she wanted.

Tears, however, acted on their own. They couldn’t be controlled or shoved down when they truly didn’t want to. And they didn’t, they absolutely didn’t. No, they wanted to drip down her chin and into the dirt that had become her friends resting place, so they kept blurring her sight no matter how hard she bit her cheek.

Eddie Munson had known, of course, the moment he’d caught her eyes over the grave. Bessie was standing there, one arm looped around Dustin and the other around Max, and for the first time, they’d acknowledged each other outside of this place. Outside the bubble they’d all so carefully guarded, the boy had smiled and nodded at her with watery eyes, just once. And she’d smiled back, just once. An empty, meaningless smile. A smile that wasn’t a smile at all.

Then they’d both had left, left the grave of their shared friend who so desperately didn’t want to be buried here, in this god forsaken town. Bessie had taken Dustin home, only to shove the confused kid out of her car and drive off into the evening. It wasn’t something she would have done any other day, her gentle demeanour towards the boy usually contradicting everything people thought of her, but right then she needed to be alone, needed to peel of her skin and just breathe. She’d driven down to the Highschool without stopping, parked in the most improper way and kicked her ugly shoes off at the car park. On bare feet, she’d run across the path to the picnic table, breathing laboured, only to find it deserted and dark.

On the 10th of July, she’d broken down crying. There was nobody around to hear her, nobody around to care. She didn’t have to hide behind a mask of nothing anymore, she could just be sad and angry and devastated all on her own. She could mourn her friend, the guy who’d been so happy mere days ago, who’d been so alive before he died right there in front of her. She could mourn him surrounded by nothing but trees and memories.

“Yeah.” She sighed, leaning back against Eddie’s shoulder. “Me neither.”

Saturday, the 22nd of March 1986

Early spring-sunshine was gazing down upon the tiny town of Hawkins. It was nothing special, weather that left nothing to complain about for most people, so it passed by unbeknownst to anyone. Sure, there was the occasional flock of pollen wafting through the air, but that was pretty much about it.

There was nothing to complain about, nothing to praise, nothing to mention in aimless Smalltalk. It was a day that seriously deserved the word ‘pleasant’ as its title.

Well.

Regarding the weather, that is.

There was plenty to chat about apart from that, though. The amazing championship game, for example; a victory Hawkins hadn’t seen for a good long while, apparently. It was either that or the death of one Chrissy Cunningham, killed by none other than one Eddie Munson, that people were talking about.

People were yapping along spitefully, even those who’d never met Eddie throwing his name around as if they knew him. The bad egg. The weed dealer. A satanist and a certified town freak. Did you know his dad was no good, too? And his mother had been insane, poor thing. It was just a matter of when, with that one. Things like that always ran in the family. And wasn’t it such a shame that it had been poor Chrissy? That nice, naïve girl. She was probably lured into his trailer, or maybe he’d dragged her along. A terrible tragedy. Prayers to their poor parents, shame on the wretched Munson clan. heh

It all just made her want to laugh.

Eddie Munson. A killer.

Right.

Bess had seen the boy mourn a god damn bee, slapped around a little too hard by their blue-eyed friend. He’d made a coffin out of a match box and buried the insect close by, in the shade of a nice, lush tree because everyone deserved to be buried somewhere nice. He hadn’t cried, but both Billy and Bess had known that he wanted to.

That was the guy that had brutally murdered a girl.

Sure. What else is new.

How ridiculous people could be. They’d gobble up lies like starving goblins as long as it fit their own wretched narrative. The odd one out, the one too loud, too different, too outlandish for this ugly arse small town had to be guilty. He had to be, because he fit the bill well enough. he was

He fit the bill and he was on the run. If that wasn’t a confession, what was?

Words like these had followed her everywhere that day, the topic unavoidable and uttered in every nook and cranny. The spite and hate aimed at Eddie had made her blood boil. Her skin was crawling each time his name was thrown her way and she had wandered out into the forest before she could do something stupid, like beat some stupid Jock to a pulp.

Part of her had wanted to run out and find the boy immediately. Eddie was her friend, her very best friend. But no one knew that. Their friendship never left the forest, was hidden from anyone and everything, so could she really go and find him? Find him anywhere other than here? Should she?

Those things were plaguing her mind that day, the blonde girl torn between running around to convince people that Eddie was good and waiting for the boy to find her first.

Out here, far away from prying eyes, everything was silent and peaceful. But unlike usual, the place didn’t make her feel any better. No, in fact, it made her feel even worse. Her mind was unbearingly loud out there, silence and solitude only amping up the volume of her own desperate mind.

Eddie’s absence was painfully obvious, the words she’d prepared for him a dead weight in her throat. She’d wanted to tell him something, something that would have made him howl and clap in joy. She could see it clearly in her mind; hear his voice as he asked the question he’d one day adopted after its original owner had died.

‘What about that guy?’

‘He kissed me and told me he loved me. Out of the blue and just like that. Sweaty and out of breath from running out of the gym hall, he grabbed me and kissed me and... He loves me, Eddie.’

This time, nobody would have sighed. Eddie would have applauded, congratulating Harrington on finally gaining a brain before bumping her shoulder with one of his smug grins. Shit, the leaves would probably have rustled along, joining the happy atmosphere in their own unique way.

She scoffed at her own imagination.

Eddie wasn’t here. He was alone and probably terrified, hunted by an entire town that wanted to see him fall.

That day, as she sat out in the forest all on her own, Bess felt sick. Something was curling around in her, a dark premonition. Maybe it was her intuition trying to tell her something she failed to understand. She didn’t know why, but dread was curling around her heart. It was like a snake, winding itself around her tighter and tighter with every passing minute. She felt something like that before, the dread that told her something terrible was about to happen.

The 30th of July 1985.

The moment Billy hadn’t stepped into the forest, she’d known something was wrong. She’d known, but she’d accepted her limitations. Accepted the boundaries they’d set for each other, accepted that their friendship was only meant to stay here. She accepted it and he’d suffered all on his own.

Died all on his own.

“You know what? Fuck this stupid agreement.” She pushed herself up with more vigour than necessary, jumping off the bench to rush out into the forest and back into town, into her own personal nightmare. Her cigarettes were left behind, forgotten the minute she turned her back. She didn’t care, couldn’t care. There was but one thought in her mind - loud, angry, and desperate.

Not again.

She wouldn’t lose another friend while idly standing by because of some stupid rule that had never been uttered aloud. She wouldn’t. No, she would go out there and find Eddie. She’d crawl into the depth of hell if necessary. She would find Eddie Munson and drag him back here, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

He wouldn’t die, not as long as she was around. Not on her watch, never again.

Friday, the 28th of March 1986

Rain was softly dousing the streets of Hawkins, but hardly anyone noticed.

They couldn’t notice, the tiny town much too busy for the first time in forever. Nurses and doctors were rushing about, the understaffed hospital overwhelmed by the sheer number of patients coming in. Volunteers were crawling through the sterile halls; first responders, medical students that had come home for a visit as well as long retired folk squeezing themselves in to help lighten the load.

Those who couldn’t offer any medical knowledge were outside, scouring the streets to help gather those in need. Some, the braver ones, were climbing into the dilapidated homes of their neighbours, calling out names to check if anyone was buried under the rubble or stuck somewhere. Rescue teams were rushing to and fro, trying to be everywhere at once as the everything slowly but surely sank into chaos.

Everything but one place.

Somewhere, hidden behind rows and rows of trees, sat a lonely picnic table. To most, it meant nothing. Just a slab of weathered wood out in the lush green. But to a select few, the tiny clearing held special meaning.

It was a place to hide. A place to escape reality, a place to rest and a place to just be. It was a place surrounded by nothing but peace, where no armour was needed. Secrets would never leave, the trees never judging what they saw. Right there, no one could be wrong. No one was too loud or too quiet, too wise, too foolish, too gruff, or too soft. The forest didn’t care about status or popularity, about looks or interests. It didn’t care at all.

It would just let them breathe.

It would let them be, let them exist in a space hat felt timeless and sheltered in exchange for a part of them. The vulnerable, tiny part that couldn’t survive out in the world. In exchange for peace of mind, the trees would keep it to themselves; would shelter the tiny thing like a precious jewel. They would help them grow and outgrow themselves by keeping everything weak and vulnerable of save until they returned.

It was waiting now, while the rest of Hawkins drowned in chaos. It was waiting for the three people it had welcomed so often over the last few years, the people who’d come here battered and broken and bruised. The people that had found camaraderie and friendship right here. Who’d found peace beyond the rustling leaves.

It was waiting for people who were long gone.

It didn’t know yet. No one was there to break the news. Nobody would’ve known to go there. Even if they had, they’d be much too busy right now. Because just outside of the forest, people were crying. The loudest, most desperate sobs were rippling through a gaggle of kids and teens; kids who shouldered far too many responsibilities at their young age. The heroes of Hawkins.

Those heroes were mourning.

They were mourning the kind-hearted freak and the gentle bitch. They were mourning the young people that had sacrificed their lives for a lost cause, for a plan that was deemed to fail. Mourning the god damn sacrifice they’d made to save the world.

A world, that didn’t want to be saved, it seems.

They were left with nothing but tears and pain, with trying to keep each other together while falling apart themselves. Guilt and regret were making it heart to breathe, cutting off their oxygen more and more with each passing second. Enough to have them wish they were dead.

Her floppy haired boy did. He wanted to be dead every time his eyes fell upon the empty gaze of the curly-headed kid. The boy who’d never stopped talking back in that haughty tone of his had gone completely silent.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. They’d paid the price, more than that, and yet everything was still broken. Their hearts were shattered to pieces and it was all for nothing.

The plight of all heroes.

A soggy pack of cigarettes, forgotten and ruined, on top of an old wooden picnic table. It was right there, the one thing she’d left for no one to find, nestled between the burned mark and messily carved letters.

It was all they’d left behind.

Every other trace was lost to the havoc wreaked upon the good-for-nothing town, everything other than memories destroyed by disaster. No one would ever know. They wouldn’t know where and how to find it, wouldn’t even know where to look. The hopes and dreams those three had would never be felt by anyone who cared. The heroes wouldn’t wander out into the forest to feel their presence in the serenity of the trees, they wouldn’t come to bask in whatever tiny things the ones lost had left behind.

Only the forest remembered what once had been. It would keep those moments; those conversations; those memories safe as it waited patiently.

Waited for something that would never happen.