บท 42: 42. Sneaking out (Mileven)
AN: Hey, guys. No, I'm not dead. I'm really sorry. So, so, sorry. But I don't have enough time to write, and I didn't want to disapoint you guys by posting a short chapter, so this got longer and longer. I hope you don't hate me too much:( This story won't be updated as frecuently as before because as you already know, I'm in school and it's very stressing. Please try to understand. No, I'm not leaving this story. I'll write in my free time and I'll try to post when I have the chapter ready.
PROMPT: Very sick Mike sneaking out to see El in the middle of the night, Nancy catches him. Mike and Joyce talking about Bob, by Dreysna/ El has tantrums, by blindredeyes.
Three times Mike gets caught sneaking out to see El and the one time she does.
1
14; Nancy.
They had the habit of saying goodnight to each other every night through the Supercoms, or through the phone, but they hadn't seen each other for three days now, and he was desperate.
He had caught the flu thanks to Holly, who had shared her apple juice with a friend in school, and said friend had left the germs on her Hello Kitty thermos. He had started sneezing a few days ago, and his mother had literally locked him in his room, away from civilization, with his Supercom, books and medicines for company.
El had been harder to keep away, but Hopper had forbidden her from going to the Wheelers', and Karen was more than willing to help the Chief in his task. Knowing his girlfriend, it hadn't been easy, but both parents had succeeded.
He missed her. Terribly. He knew he was being dramatic, but he knew she missed him too, by the way she had nearly whined her goodbye at him that night.
So, naturally, he had to see her.
Tired limbs and drippy nose aside, he waited until everyone was asleep, and then he got out of bed, put his jacket on (along with the blue facemask his mother insisted on making him wear—he wasn't going to get El sick, he wasn't that much of an idiot-), and then he was quietly making his way downstairs, shoes in hand.
He didn't have powers like Eleven did, so he wasn't even going to attempt to climb out of the window. He was already sick, he didn't want to add dead to the mix.
He was in the middle of tying his shoelaces by the door when a light blinded him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Nancy hissed at him, clad in pink pajamas and a flashlight in her hand, her brunette hair messy on the back of her hair. She had clearly woken up, if the pillow printed marks on the right side of her face were any indication.
"Nothing." He replied innocently, eyes wide and hands still on his one shoe.
Her eyes narrowed, smartly running all over his attire, and then she rolled those blue orbs to the ceiling. "You can't go out, Mike. You're sick."
"So?" He scoffed, although all he did was heat his face up by the hotness in his breath that was enclosed by the facemask. "I can't get more sick."
"Are you kidding?" Nancy scoffed as well. "It's midnight, it's cold outside! You could get lost, or even murdered. It's dangerous out there."
"So come with me," his eyes sparkled in the harsh light. "You can drive me to El's!"
"Oh, I shouldn't even be surprised that's where you're going," she rolled her eyes again, turning the flashlight off. "No."
"Nance, c'mon!" He pleaded quietly, a hand on the floor and another extended to her, which she promptly held onto to help him stand up.
"I shouldn't even be touching you," she muttered annoyed. "You could get me sick. And again, no."
"Please?" He persuaded, clutching her arm when she started to turn around. "Then I won't go alone and we can return home safe."
"No!" She huffed with a pinched face. "It's late, you're sick and I have school tomorrow! Besides, do you even know what Mom would do to us if she finds out we sneaked out?"
"It's not like you haven't done it before." He scoffed.
"Yes, but I'm older, and was never bedridden when I did it." She retorted, crossing her arms as she threw a cautious look at the stairs.
"I'm not bedridden, Mom's just paranoid," he rolled his eyes. "And you were just a year older when Steve started picking you up outside."
"That was different," she gave him a leveling look. "And I said no. Period. Now go back to bed before someone wakes up."
"Nancy," he hissed, holding her arm again when she walked to the stairs. "I'm asking a favor out of you and this is how you help me?"
"I'm not putting myself in danger of punishment for you." She snapped, trying to break his hold on her.
"So much for a great big sister," he sneered behind the facemask, planting his feet on the ground to keep her from escaping him. "Also, have I ever put you in a dangerous situation?"
"Yes! More than once!" She exclaimed, throwing her free arm in the air for good measure.
"Then you should be used to it!" He rebutted.
"Mike," his sister huffed, snatching her arm out of his grasp and smacking him on the chest while she pressed her other fingers against her eyelids, feeling a headache coming at 12 am. "You're unbelievable."
"And you're the worst sister ever!" He grumbled, glowering at her through watery eyes. "This is why Holly is my favorite."
"Holly got you sick." Nancy protested with a glare.
"Holly would go with me to see El."
"Holly doesn't know how to drive!"
"Yeah, well, she does know how to make me happy!"
"She also knows how to tell on you, something I also know how to do, and perfectly well, so don't try me!"
"You wouldn't dare." He narrowed his eyes.
"Try me," she challenged, eyebrows up and mouth pursed. "I'll scream right now."
"You wouldn't dare," he repeated, although his shoulders began to sag from the exhaustion his current illness kept on causing, and from the look she was giving him. "I just wanted to see her, Nance."
Her gaze softened, her mouth loosened and then she sighed with a roll of her neck, throwing her head back. "Mike, it's been three days."
"But I miss her!" He whined, his clammy skin flushing with embarrassment when her lips twitched with laughter. "Please, Nance, just for an hour!" He continued to plead, trying to use her amusement to his benefit.
"Michael," she sighed again, closing her eyes to his eager ones. "She's probably asleep anyway, why would you wake her up-"
"She misses me too! She wouldn't mind if we—"
A snore startled both siblings, Mike widening his eyes in alarm while Nancy turned the flashlight on again, frantically bouncing the light around until it fell on the form of their father, who slowly blinked his eyes open to the harsh yellow light.
"Kids?" Ted frowned sleepily, sitting up drowsily as he eyed them both. "Mike, what are you doing up? You should be resting."
"I..."
"And you should be in bed too. Don't you have school tomorrow?" He questioned Nancy as he adjusted the watch on his wrist, his white office shirt wrinkled from sleep and his glasses askew.
The siblings only glanced at each other, silently wondering how long had he been there and how had he remained asleep during their little argument.
"I got thirsty, Dad." Nancy decided to answer, bare feet shifting against the carpet as Ted stood up, stretching his arms with a yawn.
He nodded, absently scratching his back, and then his small eyes narrowed on Mike's tall form. "Were you going somewhere?" He asked as he took in his son's attire, frowning deeper when he saw him wearing only one shoe.
"I- Uh… was going… outside… to… uhm—"
"Get some fresh air," Nancy answered for him, smiling sweetly at their father; the lie came naturally as breathing to her, a familiar sport she had mastered through the years. "He's been locked up in his room for too long, Dad. He felt suffocated." She shook her head in mock-sadness, looking at Mike with false pity.
"Yeah, I haven't seen the sun in days, Dad."
"Well, there's no sunlight right now, son." Ted answered, glancing at the window to confirm his words. "The cold air won't be good for you right now. Let's go to bed." He ushered them away from the living room, fishing his shoes from underneath the La-Z-Boy, and walking sluggishly behind them.
Although he was grateful for her save, Mike still glowered at Nancy when they walked to the stairs, resentful with her for frustrating his plans. "You're the worst."
"I just saved your ass," she mouthed. "Say you're sorry. I told you this would happen." She shrugged simply, tapping his shoulder with the flashlight.
"I told you this would happen." Mike mimicked with a high-pitched voice, sneering underneath the damn scratchy facemask.
"You know, that's not what an apology sounds like." She raised an eyebrow, smirking when he glared harder.
"Fuck you." He snapped, voice still a bit muffled behind the facemask, and he tried to hit her with the shoe he hadn't put on and was currently holding, but she ran up the three remaining steps with a giggle, successfully escaping his attack.
"Language." Ted chided tiredly as Nancy disappeared inside her bedroom, throwing one last smirk at Mike, who walked stiffly to his room with a muttered "Night" at his father.
2
16; Steve.
They had been warned, obviously, but they didn't actually think Hopper would do it. It wasn't like they were doing anything bad either; they just wanted to spend more time alone. It wasn't easy with their friends always crashing their hangouts, so they took the little chances they got. Or they made those little chances happen.
"I have to go." He mumbled against her hair, his fingertips tracing lines on her waist under her shirt.
"Why?"
"Because it's late," he looked to the clock, confirming his suspicions. "And your Dad won't take too long to come home."
She sighed, kind of sad, leaning away from her place on his chest and sat down next to him, her back against the headboard.
"Will I see you tomorrow?"
He grinned. "You know you will. We have school."
"Oh, right," she gently slapped her forehead, her mouth in a wide grin. "Silly me."
It had become an inside joke for them. Before she was… released into the world, they didn't know when they would be able to see each other again. El had still been in hiding and Hopper wasn't too keen on him being over all the time, so they would always wonder. But that wasn't the case anymore.
With a jerk of her chin, the window sprang open, creaking a little bit, causing twin grimaces on their faces. Hopper had to see a 'crime scene' (they had a feeling one of the farmers had insisted on spying the competition at night), so he wouldn't be home until after midnight (which wasn't too far now, and Mike shuddered as he realized they were tempting the fates), but Jonathan was home, and so was Will, but out of the two of them, the former would be the one to watch out from. He took the role of older brother very seriously, and had told them way too many times to keep the door open or some other Hopper thing.
"I could've opened myself." Mike whispered as he eyed the window handle, one hand still pulling his shoe on.
She shrugged, shoulders covered with the long sleeved shirt she used for bed, but her collarbones were still exposed, so that's where he decided to kiss her.
"Come here." He tugged on her arm, trying to pull her closer.
"No, you come here." She giggled, pulling on his hand, and he decided to humor her. He leaned in on his knees, pressing a kiss to her protruding collarbone, the skin soft over the hard bone against his lips, and then he trailed a series of kisses up the column of her throat, pausing to bite that spot on her jawline that made her… he laughed, his breath a moist cloud on her skin, as she mewled.
"Ugh, Michael." She groaned out, embarrassed. She didn't know why she could make that noise, but the first time it happened they had been so startled, and she had been so stiff from shock, he actually took like five entire minutes to start laughing.
"Okay," he chuckled, finally kissing her lips. "Sorry."
"'S, okay," she mumbled, kissing him back softly. Her hands were on his cheeks, the skin still smooth thanks to his slowly-raising puberty. She actually liked that he wasn't growing a beard, like Lucas and Dustin, whose stubbles scratched roughly against her skin whenever they decided to be affectionate with her. Also, Hopper had the thickest beard, and the hairs tickled her face every time she wanted to kiss his cheek, so she was thankful Mike hadn't grown any facial hair yet. "I like you."
He laughed again, the hand on her thigh squeezing involuntarily. "I like you too."
"Well, good, otherwise this would be very awkward."
He laughed again, the smile making the creases next to his eyes to appear, and she leaned in to kiss him again.
"Love you, Ed."
It was his turn to groan now, much to her amusement. She had started to call him that ever since she learned his middle name from his mother, and he hated it.
"Love you too, I guess." He rolled his eyes, kissing her again, and then he crawled off from the bed, standing up with quiet footsteps.
"Call me when you get home." She requested (it sounded more like and order from her, but he had learned by now), anxiously watching him pull himself through the window, wincing and throwing worried glances at the door when he made too much noise.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered once he was standing outside. "Lock this." He pressed his lips to his fingers and waved them at her, sending her a kiss. Another jerk of her chin and the window was closed again, and he stepped away when he heard the click of the lock.
He walked to the line of trees, grabbing his bike from where he had left it, and began to step into the woods. The trees rustled from the cold air, some owls hooted and a dog barked in the distance. If he hadn't been so over-exposed to the horrors of the Upside Down, the dark would definitely scare him.
The leaves crunched underneath his footsteps, and he frowned for the three seconds it took for him to realize why they crunched so loud. He whirled around just in time for a hand to grasp his shoulder, and he shouted in fright, nearly passing out when a face greeted him.
"Oh my God," he moaned, a hand on his rapidly beating heart and the other in his hair, his bike at his feet. "What the hell, Steve?!"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" He defended himself.
"What the hell are you doing here anyway?" Mike snapped, picking his fallen bike up again.
"Uh… I… that's none of your business, Wheeler." Steve huffed, crossing his arms, and Mike took the time to observe him. His hair was fluffier than usual, messier, his shirt was wrinkled and the collar of his jacket was pulled up. His neck sported a little bruise, one that made him smirk. He looked thoroughly fucked, honestly.
"Yeah, you're right," Mike countered, the satisfied smirk never leaving his lips as he began to walk to the front of the house. "It's none of my business who you were doing in there."
"What?!" Steve yelped, running after him. "What's that supposed to mean, you shithead?"
"Nothing," he said innocently, not matching the deviant smirk on his face. "Nothing at all."
"I don't have to ask who you were doing in there."
"I wasn't doing nobody in there!" Mike hissed, glaring at the older boy.
"Yeah, right," Steve snickered sarcastically, righting the collar of his jacket and rummaging in his pockets for his car keys. "That ship has sailed long, long, loooong time—"
"That ship is still… in the port!" Mike countered, hating the way his face automatically flushed in embarrassment.
Steve looked at him for a few minutes, a stupid, knowing, indulgent smile on his face. Mike wasn't lying, though. That ship was still in the port. Although it was slowly drifting away from it. Or something like that.
"Anyway," Steve shrugged, sauntering past him to unlock his car, which was parked in the Hopper-Byers' driveway. He must have gotten here after Mike, before he was sure the BMW wasn't there when he arrived. "Need a ride?"
"No," He sulked, still glaring at Steve. "I'm my own ride."
"It'll be faster if I take you."
"But I'll have to be in an enclosed space with you for 15 minutes." He huffed, rolling his bike to start walking out of the driveway.
"Oh, come on, Mike! I'm being nice here, you little asshole, it was a joke. I know you guys haven't—"
"Why are you still talking?" Mike growled.
"—so, just put your bike in the backseat and I'll drive you."
"No!"
"I don't want you biking on your own at this time in the dark, Wheeler!"
"I'm not three!" Mike snapped, stopping to look back at his sister's ex-boyfriend (was he really still her ex? Or was she just sharing Jonathan with him? He nearly shuddered; he didn't want to know).
"Well, then act your age!" Steve argued back, still standing by the open door of the passenger seat.
"I am!" Mike yelled back. "Maybe you should—"
He was nearly thrown into cardiac arrest again when a car horn was beeped on him, the blinding lights making him screw his eyes shut. He heard Steve curse loudly behind him, and then the car turned off, letting him blink back from blindness.
Hopper got out of the Blazer with a slowness that would look like tiredness for the average person, but both boys knew it was a dangerous kind of slow.
"Hey, Chief," Steve greeted weakly, throwing a hand in the air with barely controlled nerves. "So, we were just leav—"
"Do I want to know what the hell are you two doing in my house at one am?" Hopper questioned, closing the door of the Blazer with a slam of his palm.
"Well, I-… we—"
"You," he pointed at Mike, who was channeling his inner possum by the way he stood rooted to the floor. "What were you doing in there? I know what he's doing here," he looked at Steve, who managed to clamp his mouth shut from the shock of the Chief knowing. "They're both old enough to know to not disrespect my house."
"Hop, I—", Steve stepped up, trying to argue for his case.
"Save it. I already talked to Jonathan about it, he can explain to you. Now," he turned to Mike again, glowering through sleep-depraved eyes. "What have I told you about coming to see her, at night, when you're alone?"
"But we weren't alone! Jonathan and Will are here!" Mike protested.
"Will can have a house tumble down on him and he will remain asleep. Jonathan was… busy, so, no, you were really alone."
"We didn't even do anything!" Mike exclaimed with a frown, tired from being questioned about… his sexual activities, which hadn't been much to be honest.
"I can testify for them," Steve quipped, a bit too relaxed from being older and the step-father of his kind-of-boyfriend knowing about their kind-of-relationship. "He said, and I quote: 'That ship is still in the port'."
"I'm not even going to say anything," Hopper rolled his eyes, mentally counting to five because these two idiots were trying him, and he wasn't in the mood to be tried. He was in the mood for a warm bed, a warm blanket, and a warm Joyce; so he needed to get rid of them. "Just… go home. It's late. Harrington, get his ass in that car and move it. You're blocking my driveway."
He walked to the Blazer, getting in and turning the engine on, and after seeing neither of the two boys move, he honked impatiently.
"Okay, so, how about that ride?" Steve asked with a snicker as he moved to help Mike place his bike in the backseat of the BMW.
"Shut up and just drive me home," Mike hissed, throwing an anxious look in Hopper's direction. "And don't you dare say anything on the way."
"Or else what?" Steve questioned as they got inside the car.
"I'll tell Max you were the one who told Dustin about her rash."
The older boy miraculously kept quiet for a few minutes, contemplating the probable physical damage the redhead would do to him if Wheeler opened his mouth. "Okay, fine," He finally agreed, driving out of the dirt road and into the actual road. "But you also have to promise not to berate Nancy. We haven't… exactly… figured all this out yet."
"I wasn't going to," Mike frowned, pursing his lips in a grossed out manner. "As if I want to know what you three are up to."
"Yes, you do," Steve smiled suddenly, all smug and, yes, alright, Mike was curious. "But all in its own time, Michael… Let the ship sail on its own."
"Oh, god, you're never letting that one go, are you, huh?" Mike groaned, resting his head back against the car seat's headrest, closing his eyes as Steve snickered.
3
17; Joyce.
He hadn't exactly planned to spend the night, but after… some activities, he just fell asleep beside her. He woke up with a start when Hopper let out a giant snore a few rooms away, and he sleepily reached out to grab the clock, widening his eyes when 4:39 blinked back at him.
"Fuck." He cursed colorfully, closing his eyes tightly as he leaned back against El's pillows. He could leave now and arrive home an hour before dawn; he just wished his mother hadn't decided to check on him before she went to bed last night, otherwise, he was dead.
He sat up, looking around the floor in search for his clothes, when he felt her stir behind him. He looked over his shoulder as he grabbed his shirt from the foot of the bed, watching as the muscles of her naked back moved until her face turned towards him.
"Mike?" She mumbled, her eyes still half-closed with sleep as her eyebrows furrowed.
"Shh," he reached for her, kissing her forehead when she shifted to lie on her back, her skin warm from the covers. "Go back to sleep."
"Are you leaving?" She blinked up at him, her head falling back on the pillows when he lifted the covers over her body and tucked her in, gentle hands securing the blanket against her neck to lull her back into her warm sleep.
"Yeah," he whispered, pulling his underwear on and standing up to retrieve his pants from the middle of the room, his body still too slow from sleep. "If my mom notices I didn't go home last night she will throw a fit."
He kneeled down to pull his shoes from underneath her bed, smiling when the tips of her long hair tickled the back of his neck, and he carefully avoided knocking her head as she leaned over the side of the bed, staring at him with those doe eyes of hers he loved so much.
"Be careful," she warned, her curls a curtain of soft strands against her shoulder as she leaned her weight on one hand and the other secured the sheets around her. "He's out like a bear but he can wake up in any minute."
"I know," he had been around Hopper enough time to know the man's ears twitched at every creak of the floors. "This is not my first rodeo." He chuckled with her, finished tying his shoelaces, and then leaned in to kiss her goodbye. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Love you." She muttered as she pulled him back for another peck.
"Love you too." He grinned, kissing her back.
His hair was a wild mane of dark curls, and he was sure his breath stank a little, but she didn't seem to mind. He made sure his keys were still in his pocket, and then he threw his hoodie at her, snickering when she squeaked in surprise when it landed against her face. "Put that on and make sure you get some panties before you get out to face the world."
"Yeah, because Will didn't see you sneaking in last night wearing this." She said sarcastically, lifting the hoodie, but still pulled her arms through the sleeves. He got momentarily distracted when the sheet fell, but then his hoodie covered her chest, and her eyes met his.
"Perv," she grinned, snuggling back on the bed with her curls pinned down by the hood. "Mike, go."
"Right. Bye, pretty Number Girl."
He left her giggling, quietly smiling to himself as he closed the door of her bedroom behind him, and then he got in Ninja Mode, toes on the floor first and then heels, repeating the process until he got out of the hallway, mentally cheering as he heard the unceasing snores of Hopper, but then he stopped like a deer in headlights when he met Joyce's eyes.
"Mike?" She asked, eyes wide and shimmery as she leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Uhh… good morning, Mrs. Byers?" He grimaced, hating himself and God for letting him be caught by Will and El's (step, but she didn't use the word) mom, but then he shifted on his feet as he realized why her eyes looked so bright against the moonlight coming in through the windows.
She was crying.
"Are you okay?" He questioned, hesitantly walking to her with slow footsteps as she sniffled.
She waved a hand in the air with an unstable smile, as if it wasn't a big deal to find her crying at four in the morning. "I'm fine. I just… had a nightmare, that's all."
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about crying moms and traumas didn't let him leave her like that.
He walked inside the kitchen, Hopper's snores still loud in the silent house, and cleared his throat, a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but he firmly told himself that this was Will's mom; this was the woman who comforted El when the monsters got too close in her dreams and he was too far away; this was the woman who saw him grow up, and even took care of him like he was her own. He had to help her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked tentatively, watching as she took deep breaths and clutched the counter with shaky fingers.
She looked surprised, momentarily caught off guard, and then she smiled again, even laughing a little. "No, sweetie, I'm fine," her eyes were still shimmering, and her voice trembled, and he was sure there was a sob she was burying inside her throat. "I just… It- I—", she shut her lips, pressing them together as she started squeezing her eyes, her face scrunching up as she tried to suppress her tears.
Her shoulders started shaking and that's when he stepped up. She let out a sob against his shoulder, her hands desperately clutching the back of his shirt as he rubbed her back in what he hoped were comforting circles and not awkward slides of his hand.
"I-," she sobbed harder, a broken whimper escaping her and Mike felt his heart clench in agony. "Bob."
It felt like a sucker punch to the stomach.
His eyes widened in the darkness of the kitchen, images running through his mind of the nice and smart man that had existed very briefly in his life, but had left a big print in it. He squeezed Joyce harder, letting her bury her face against him, and he felt the need to lull her like she once had done when he was little and had scraped his knees while running with Will in her backyard.
He leaned his cheek against her hair, his height perfect to cradle her just right, and he began to rock her slowly, letting her cry it out.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered quietly. "I woke up and Hopper was asleep and he had a rough day at the Station and I didn't want to wake him up so I just came out here because I didn't want to wake the kids and—"
"It's okay, Mrs. Byers," he interrupted, his voice a murmur, shutting his eyes as he felt the prick of tears behind his lids. "Sometimes we need some time to… grieve."
"It's just… I keep seeing him. As the months go by, he won't go away. And it isn't even him," she sniffled. "It's not my Bob. It's a bloody corpse, eaten by those… monsters, and then he tells me it's my fault. That it's Will's fault, and—"
"Hey," Mike interrupted again, squeezing her harder. "Hey, we know Bob wouldn't say that. And it isn't Will's fault."
"I know that," Joyce pulled her head back, face shining with tears, eyes puffy and swollen. "Will… it wasn't him, but that… thing… I just can never forget his eyes before they attacked him," she closed her eyes, her expression painful and sorrowful, pressing a hand against her mouth to bury her grieving words. "They were full of hope. He thought it was all over… that he had stopped them, and I thought so too. But then…"
He nodded with her, understanding her feelings. Bob Newby had given his life for all of theirs. He sacrificed himself, knowing he didn't really stand a chance against those monsters, but he was brave enough to come to terms with that; to save Joyce; to save them.
"Sometimes I think what would've happened… if he… don't get me wrong," she swallowed thickly, her bright eyes widening in concern. "I love Hopper. I love El, and the family we all have. It's really what I've always wanted. But, Bob… he just… he had so much more to live, we… we didn't really had a chance."
She breathed out shakily, her hands still trembling as she opened a cabinet and took out an aluminum pot, the red paint peeling off on the edges from the well use it had been given. He watched her pour water in it, the cup bumping against the pot from the jerks of her hands.
"Hopper lives for coffee, but I've always preferred tea," she explained with a watery smile, pulling some tea bags from a box and placing them inside the pot, turning the stove on to get the water boiling. "Do you want some?"
"No offence, Mrs. Byers, but I've always thought tea's just hot water with some flowers in it."
Joyce laughed, her lips stretching into a grin that showed her gleaming set of teeth, and he smiled at the sight.
"We got some chocolate milk I think." She opened the fridge, the light of it shining on her face and highlighting the wet tracks of tears on her cheeks.
After some minutes, she clinked her mug of chamomile tea against his cold glass of milk in a toast.
"To Bob." He murmured, watching the sad tilt of her lips as she tried to find the silver lining, trying to remember the good times instead of the bad ones.
"To Bob." She repeated.
They drank in comfortable silence for a few seconds, each mind a wild hurricane of thoughts, before he interrupted the quiet.
"Did you know he was the founder of the AV Club?"
"Oh, I do," Joyce nodded vehemently, warming her hands with the mug. "He wouldn't shut up about it. I've never understood technology a lot, so I had to endure long rants about TV signal and new devices from RadioShack," she paused to laugh endearingly, smiling softly to herself as she thought of the memory. "When I told him you guys were in the AV Club he got very excited. He wanted to talk to Will about his days in Middle School, but they didn't really had much time alone, and by the time Bob was more involved with me, Will wasn't really himself anymore."
He took the information in, processing it and feeling Joyce's mood decline again, and this time he joined her on it.
"Will would've loved talking to him about it."
"He would've," she nodded sadly, looking into her tea as the hurricane inside her head picked the pace up again. "He would've."
They drank in silence again, and even though not much was said again, Joyce thanked him for the emotional and physical support, even if he felt he hadn't done much. She didn't even mention a thing about him spending the night, which he was thankful for.
And when he got home, and only slept about 30 minutes before his mother showed up in his room, harassing him about not being home all night, he thought it had been worth it.
+ 1
15; Hopper.
She knew he would be busy with Holly, but she still wanted to take his mind off.
He had to cut their nightly call short when his parents started fighting, their screams reaching her ears from the kitchen phone, and her heart had throbbed painfully for him when he had whispered his goodbye, his voice quiet and sad, Holly's whimpers against his neck as she sought comfort in him.
She felt the insides of her nostrils start to tickle as she maintained the window of her bedroom open, one leg dangling out of it as she placed both hands on the rail and tried to reach the ground on the other side. Her foot touched solid and she grinned in triumph, jerking in little jumps to throw the rest of her body out, when the room suddenly erupted in light.
"Going somewhere?" Hopper questioned gruffly, one hand on the light switch and another on the door handle.
"Ah, shit." El groaned out—sounding way too much like Dustin, which was actually his fault-, throwing her head back with closed eyes. The distraction and startle of the lights made her lose her concentration, and she was reminded of that by the window slamming back down painfully on her head. "Ah, shit!" She cursed louder, bringing her head back in and rubbing the throbbing spot on the middle of her skull.
"Ah, shit, alright," Hopper huffed, walking inside with crossed arms. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Having a possible concussion." She frowned, pouting slightly, still rubbing her head as she swung her legs nonchalantly, one in and the other still out in the night air.
"Start talking, smart ass." His frown got deeper, and she sighed, knowing she hadn't been successful in throwing him off.
"I was talking." She rolled her eyes, wiping her nose out of habit and catching a faint smear of orange on the back of her hand.
"Get in already!" Her father snapped,
She rolled her eyes again, pushing the window up and throwing her leg back in, ducking inside her bedroom to land on her sneakered feet under Hopper's glare.
"It's midnight, Jane," she sighed in annoyance at the use of her given name. "Everyone's asleep. Why aren't you?"
"Why aren't you?" She rebutted.
"I was in the middle of falling into bed, when I heard you waltzing around here with the slyness of a bull in a china shop."
"What's a china shop?"
"It's a- don't try me! I'm not letting you out of the loop here." He huffed, his moustache moving with the annoyed purse of his lips. "You're lucky Joyce is sleeping, or else she would be here—""I'd rather her being here than you." She sulked, throwing an irritated look in his way.
"Why? Because she'd let you sneak out to be with your boyfriend?"
"At least she would be understanding!" She snapped, glowering at him while she stomped to her bed and plopped herself on the mattress.
"Well, princess, I'm not exactly in the best mood right now, so, sorry to burst your bubble—"
"I've never been in a bubble!" She bristled, the lamp on her night stand flickering along with her temper. "It's always bad, and you being a mouth-breather isn't any good—"
"Well, sorry for not letting you run away in the middle of the night! You think that's normal? It's that out of the bubble enough for you?"
"Stop treating me like a child!" She snarled, head hot and throbbing while Hopper glared down at her with stormy eyes that were smudged with tiredness.
"Then stop acting like one! How many times are we having this conversation?! Mike Wheeler is miles away and even though I know how much you wish you could be in his house with a flutter of your eyelids, it's not going to happen!"
"Maybe if you bothered to hear me out first, instead of jumping to conclusions, then maybe—"
A thump on the wall made her shut up, both shooting a look at the wooden surface behind her bed, before Will's sleepy voice rang through their ears.
"Can't you guys fight later? It's late and I want to sleep!"
"So you weren't going to Mike's, then?" Hopper asked her once they both turned back to each other, completely ignoring Will's request.
"So what if I was?"
Jesus all mighty, he didn't have the patience for this. "You know what?" His temples were throbbing so he placed his fingers there, rubbing circles on the skin and applying some reliving pressure on the spot. "You're grounded. The end. I won't keep on fighting with you."
"Hopper!" She snarled, fisting a pillow.
"And I won't leave until I see you back in bed." He was too smart to be fooled, and he knew she would do what she pleased if he didn't inflict some parental authority there.
"Well, start getting comfortable, then." She glared, crossing her legs as she sat against the headboard, dirty Chucks on top of her purple covers and jacket still on.
"I won't say it again," he growled, feeling the grey hairs growing out of his skull. "You're. Not. Going. Out."
"His parents are fighting again! He's sad and he's taking care of Holly, and I want to be there for him—"
"You can be there for him tomorrow. At a reasonable hour."
"He won't need me then!"
"He's always needing you!" He rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet.
"The Wheelers aren't doing well right now. I don't know what else—"
"Well, that's all very sad and common, but I won't change my mind. Please get into bed."
"But—"
"Right now!" He barked, pointing a stern finger as he felt the ache in the middle of his spine began to pound harder.
"Gosh, you're such a douchebag sometimes!" El snapped, sitting up in a furious lung.
"Hey!" Hopper scowled. "Where did you learn that word?!"
"It's quite common, maybe if you got your head out of the 10th century sometime," she grunted, slipping one shoe off and throwing it at the floor. "You would've heard it!"
"I won't stand here and let you insult me because I didn't let you go out in the middle of the night-"
"God, Dad, you won't even listen!" She hurled her other shoe at his feet, missing his shin, where she intended the shoe to land.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry Mike's going through rough times, but this isn't the time to go pay him a visit! And because of this," he glared down at the shoe, kicking it away from him. "You won't go see him tomorrow either!"
"You can't do that!" She snarled, standing up in anger, her fingers twitching with the urge to do something.
"I just did! And if you keep on like this, it'll be No TV all over again!"
She though back to that time she had been a little rebel and he had taken the TV from her, snatching the cable out of the wall in defiance to her disrespect, and couldn't help the frustrated scream that tore out of her throat.
The lamp next to her, the one on her ceiling and all the lightbulbs of the hallway were suddenly lit, the light so bright it looked like the sun was rising inside the Hopper-Byers house, and then the glass shattered in a loud crash, the snap of her temper and the pulsing of the blood of her veins rushing out of her in a small explosion.
Hopper yelped, jumping away from the broken lightbulb, and she had the fleeting though to step away just in time for a glass shard to fly her way.
She panted, her breaths the only sound that was heard in the darkness of her room, and then she heard him curse violently.
"For fucking Chris's sake, Eleven!"
"At least the windows are untouched." She muttered with a shrug he couldn't see, brushing her hand against the wetness on her upper lip, and cursing softly when she felt the heaviness of blood stain the back of her hand.
"Hop?! El?! Will?!" Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and then Joyce appeared in the doorway, a flashlight in hand and her hair all rumpled. "What the hell is going on here?!"
"Ask her, this was all her doing." Hopper rolled his eyes with a tired sigh, walking to the desk in the corner to fetch some tissues from the Kleenex box she kept there for this sole purpose.
"El? Want to tell me why we you blew our lights off?" Her stepmother asked as she watched Hopper clean the girl up.
"Because of him." The teenage brunette muttered broodily, staring up at her adoptive father in the light of the flashlight but keeping still as he squeezed the blood out of her nostrils.
"I didn't—", Hopper began to defend himself, but then a body landed against Joyce's side, long hair sticking up and pajama pants wrinkled.
"Aw, man, I told you to fight later," Will whined, leaning his head on his mother's shoulders as she passed an arm around his. "My night light exploded!"
"Sorry." El muttered, swiping her thumb against her left nostril while Hopper dumped the bloody tissues in the trash bin next to her bed.
"Sorry won't do it," he said, grabbing the flashlight from Joyce and pointing it at the floor. "There's glass everywhere. We need to clean this up before we go to bed. And I mean we all go to bed." He emphasized, throwing one last look at El before he gently pushed Joyce and Will aside, walking out to find something to clean with.
"What happened, sweetie?" Joyce whispered, grabbing Will's hand and guiding him around the glass to sit on the clean side of the bed.
"Nothing, it's just… you know Mike's parents are fighting, and I wanted to go see him so he would feel better, but Dad caught me."
"Honey—"
"Honey, nothing," Hopper's voice muttered from the hallway, and then his large from appeared. He threw the flashlight they had been using to Will, who caught it and turned it on to light his stepfather up, his shadow a huge shape on the opposite wall thanks to the small light. "When I say no, I mean no. You need to learn that. And we have to talk about this temper of yours."
Eleven scoffed at that. "Like yours is any better!"
"I don't make every light explode with a scream!" He huffed, motioning to their surroundings as he used a broom to sweep the glass in the hallway into a dustpan.
"And he doesn't leave me sleepless," Will added with a salty look. "What am I going to do now?"
"You're sleeping with her," Hopper told them as he threw the glass in the trash, the clang of the dustpan against El's bin making Joyce's eyes flutter from where they had fallen shut. "That way you have some company to make up for your night light and you can block her exit if she tries to leave."
"You know I sleep like a rock, right?" Will questioned, already slipping under the covers.
"I trust you won't fail me." Hopper answered, leaving the broom against the wall, and the dustpan on the floor.
"You seriously underestimate my ability to sleep." Will muttered, snuggled in a nest of blankets.
"Clean this up," Hopper ordered her, ignoring the way Will's eyes began to flutter immediately. "And then you're getting into bed. We'll talk in the morning."
She had some clarity in her, obviously. She felt a little ashamed and embarrassed, so she decided to listen and nodded, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Sorry." She murmured softly as Joyce walked past her, pausing to kiss her head, unintentionally on the same spot the window had landed on.
Hopper just sighed heavily, nodding reluctantly when Joyce swatted him on the stomach on her way out of the room. "Yeah, yeah. We'll talk in the morning." He stared at her for a moment; the still-on flashlight shadowing her features, but bringing out her huge eyes. "Just know this… if I catch you sneaking out again, I'll have to put bars on your window or something. Don't make me do it, kid." He warned, pointing a finger again.
She nodded, somewhat appraising, before Will's snore startled them both.
She looked behind her, chuckling when she saw her brother's face buried in her pillow, and she looked back at her dad only to laugh with him.
After a few minutes, they sobered up. "I love you, okay? You just have to stop being so damn stubborn." He shook his head lightly.
"Pot, kettle." She muttered under her breath, collecting glass shards on the dustpan, and she looked up from her crouched position when he groaned.
"Just… we'll talk tomorrow."
"Night, Dad."
"Night, kid." Hopper sighed heavily.
"Hey," she stopped him before he could get too far away, and he stuck his head in to hear what she was about to say. "… I love you too."
He smiled softly, the huge, untamed beard hiding most of it, but she knew it was there.
With one last smile, he was gone, closing his and Joyce's room door behind him.
She finished cleaning her floor and then she took off her jacket, thankful of not removing her pajamas when she had decided to go to Mike's. She slipped in beside Will, pushing him a little to make space for her, and then she fell asleep.
A few months later, or maybe even a year, the bars would be on her window, preventing a certain boy from slipping in unnoticed, and her from sneaking out.
But hey, that was the price of love.
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