Chapter Text
August 2nd, 1985
“I’m not going.”
Joyce Byers sighs. She looks tired - really, really tired. “Sweetheart,” she says gently, “I know you don’t want to leave your friends, but Will’s coming too. And it’s really only a few hours; you’ll be able to visit all the time.” She picks at her fingernails.
Joyce is always like this. Tired. Gentle. Anxious. She’s not bad. But Jane doesn’t want to go with her. She likes Will, but the rest of her friends are staying in Hawkins, and she doesn’t want to leave. And, besides, here, she has people who look at her and understand what’s happened. To Hopper.
Max has been more distant since Billy died, even though she didn’t like Billy. Hopper told her when she was still trapped at the cabin that people do that sometimes. They pull away. It’d been his explanation for why he moved all the way from New York to a small, sleepy town in Indiana - he didn’t want to see anyone he knew. Jane isn’t like that. She wants to go to school with people who knew Hopper, even if it means staying in the place where he died. She wants her friends. She wants to visit her mother, maybe, and even if she can’t really talk to her without her powers. She doesn’t want to go to Chicago.
“It’s far,” Jane says. She doesn’t know how to say everything she’s feeling; it’s all swirling up inside of her like a storm. She’s sad in a way she wasn’t before, and angry. Not angry at any specific person. Not angry at Hopper. She’s just… angry. And powerless. And lonely. And she really, really doesn’t want to go away.
Especially since she’s a real person now. She has a number. Hopper had told her that this wasn’t like her tattoo, that this number made sure the government would take care of her when she gets old. When, he’d said. And she has papers, too, lying about where she was born and where she was staying before she became Jane Eleanor Hopper. Friends don’t lie, but the people who need these papers aren’t her friends. It’s okay if she lies.
Since she’s a real person, she shouldn’t have to go with Joyce. Real people make choices; numbers do what Papa says. If she’s not a number anymore, then she gets to pick, and Jane wants to stay.
She doesn’t even really want to be Eleven anymore. Eleven can save the world. Eleven can save her dad. But Jane can’t do any of those things. She’s just… normal. A regular person. Like she really is a little girl in a bad foster situation who got adopted by a good man. She doesn’t really understand what foster is, but Hop had assured her nobody would ask too many questions about it.
“I want to stay,” she says, trying to explain better, even though Joyce hasn’t understood once why she doesn’t want to leave Hawkins. “It’s okay that you want to leave. I understand. But I don’t. And I get to make choices.”
Joyce’s face crumbles at that. “Oh.” She hugs Jane gently. “Of course you do. I didn’t mean to - I just. Who would take care of you? Where would you stay?”
“Mike’s basement?” Mike would let her stay in his basement. Even though they’re not - Jane doesn’t know. She’s not sure she really wants to keep dating Mike right now. She’s not sure if that’s a pulling-away thing or something about her, about Mike.
Around her, the Party is helping pack up the Byers’ things and put them in the moving van. She can hear Lucas and Max teasing Dustin, and it makes her nearly smile that Max is having one of her good days. But she’d just found Hopper’s letter a few minutes ago.
Before the letter, she’d been thinking maybe Joyce was right. That maybe it would be best to leave Hawkins behind, this place that had taken so much from her. But the letter changed her mind. It reminded her that even if Hawkins took her Hopper, it gave him to her, too. It gave her these friends. She’s barely spent any real time with any of the Party except for Mike; what if they all forget her while she’s in Chicago? That would be - hm. Dustin would call it really shitty, and she has to agree.
“As much as I wish you could just hide in Mike’s basement, you have to know that’s not… you can’t just sleep on his floor and eat Eggos.”
“Why not?”
The older woman pushes a hand through her hair. “First of all, you’re too old for his parents not to notice you. What would we tell them?”
“I am Hopper’s adopted daughter. He was telling people before - before.” Jane hasn’t been able to say it out loud yet. “We tell them that I need a place to stay.”
“Karen’s a nice woman, but she’s not that nice. Eventually she’d call CPS: those are the people who figure out what to do with kids who don’t have anyone taking care of them,” she explains, seeing Jane’s visible confusion. “Even if they’re not like the bad men, they’d still take you away and put you with people you don’t know.”
Jane frowns as she considers the issue. She doesn’t want to hide again. But if she doesn’t hide, then her friend’s parents would call someone. They would feel like they should do something. They wouldn’t even know they weren’t helping.
She can’t hide, and she can’t let herself be put in the hands of any government agency, powers or no powers. It’s stupid. Jane isn’t stupid.
She glances around the Byers’ house again, considering her options. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin can’t help her. Nancy has been trying to convince her to go with Joyce, so she won’t have any good solutions. Jonathan and Will are both going. Max moved to the trailer park after her stepdad left town; maybe she wouldn’t mind sleeping on the same bed, and Max says her mom barely notices anything anymore.
“What about Max? Her mom isn’t around a lot; she’s working.” And getting drunk when she’s not, according to Max. Hopper got drunk once or twice; he got really loud and then he’d sleep, and it was really hard to wake him up. Max’s mom definitely wouldn’t notice her at all if she’s like that all the time.
“That’s… she’s struggling a lot right now. Mrs. Mayfield can’t really afford to take care of another person, even with the money Hopper left you. And I’m not sure she could help you with some other things. You need tutors; I know the kids all promised they would help you catch up, but you need homework, and tests, and textbooks. How would she get that set up for you? And then she would ask questions about why you didn’t get schooling before.”
Jane nods slowly. She can tell there’s something Joyce isn’t saying - another argument she’s keeping to herself, but everything she’s said seems reasonable.
“And,” Joyce adds, in a rush, like she has to get it out now or she won’t say it at all, “You should be with an adult who knows the truth. Even if Mrs. Mayfield is willing to help, and even if the money is enough, and even if she can organize things with tutors and the schools; what happens if your powers come back suddenly? What if someone from the government - not Owens - comes knocking? What if you have nightmares about your time in the Lab? You’d have to live a lie all the time, even at home.”
“There has to be someone,” Jane insists. She considers again: who did Hopper trust? Who knew?
She spots Steve and Robin coming through the door. They were interviewing for a job today, and weren’t sure if they would make it in time, she remembers.
“Hi Mrs. Byers!” Robin calls, waving cheerfully. “We got the job.”
Joyce tries to smile at them. “Oh, congrats! That’s great news.”
“I nearly fu - messed it up,” Steve says with a light laugh. “Keith hates my guts.”
Robin slings her arm around him and grins. “He just thinks you’re a dingus, Dingus. You should’ve told him your actual top three movies - you don’t care about Star Wars.”
“The teddy bears are cute, though! Plus, c’mon, I don’t want to tell Keith that my favorite movie is Roman Holiday.”
“Or that your second favorite is Shogun’s Samurai.”
“He wouldn’t get it, Rob.”
Jane butts in. “Why wouldn’t he get it?”
Steve glances at her as if surprised she’s talking to him. “Uh. Well, because he’s lame. Like, he’s the kind of person who thinks he knows everything but doesn’t, really.”
“A mouth breather,” she agrees.
Robin snorts. “Yeah! Keith is a mouth breather. Oh, kid, I would pay you to come in and call him that.”
Joyce taps on her shoulder. “El - sorry, Jane -”
“You can call me El,” Jane says. “I don’t want people who aren’t my friends calling me El. You don’t count.”
“El. I’m not saying you don’t have a choice. But, really, if you think about your options, who can you stay with in Hawkins?”
She thinks about all the objections that Joyce has made. They would need money, enough space for her, no parents to get her into more trouble. They would need to help her integrate as a normal person. They would need to know the truth.
“Can Steve take me in?”
Steve stops where he is. “What?”
“What?” Joyce echoes.
“Steve has a lot of space, so I wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.” Mike mentioned it once - that his house has, like, twenty bedrooms. “He has enough money to help me,” because she knows he has a very nice car, so he must have money. “His parents are never around.” Hopper had told her that Steve’s parents weren’t around much, which is why he had to stay with someone after he got that concussion helping her friends. He’d been angry about it, which she hadn’t really understood at the time. “He already knows about the Upside Down. And, he can help me with all the school stuff. Plus, Dustin says he’s really good at,” her mind blanks on the word he’d used, something from his game, what was it, “Charisma-based skill checks? I know I need help with math and reading, but what about pretending to be normal?” Dustin said Steve was the most normal person he’d ever met, so if anyone could teach her how, it would be him. “It makes sense, right?”
“He’s not an adult yet,” Joyce says. “He wouldn’t be able to take you in formally. And, anyway, you barely know each other; would you really be comfortable living with him?”
“I barely know you,” Jane points out. Joyce has been nice every time they’ve talked, but before everything that happened over the summer, they’d only had a few conversations. Hopper - that had only been a few weeks ago. “That’s the same either way.”
She sighs. “He’s still not an adult.”
Steve walks closer, patting Robin on the shoulder as he removes himself from her. “I will be in a few months, though. It can just be an… informal thing until then, right? It’s not like she’s going to school anytime soon anyway.”
“What will you tell people? They’ll ask questions.”
Steve shrugs. “We can figure it out. Maybe Owens will have some ideas for that. But, like, she wants to stay. You do wanna stay, right, El?”
She nods seriously.
“Then we’ll figure it out.”
“And when your parents find out? What then?”
Steve grins. “Trust me, I can deal with my mom and dad. Whatever our story ends up being, I can sell it to them. And she’s right about all the other stuff. I can help, Joyce.”
Joyce picks at her fingernails again. “But should you? Being eighteen doesn’t make you ready to help raise a kid. Especially not one with such… unique circumstances. I’m not saying this to offend you, either of you. I just - this is a big consideration. You’d both have to live with each other for a long time, even if nothing goes wrong.”
Steve smiles at her, and then turns his gaze down to Jane. “I’m pretty good at sticking with impulsive decisions. What about you, El? She’s right about one thing; we’ve never really talked. You might not be able to stand me.”
“My friends trust you.” Even Mike, although for some reason he pretends to be annoyed at Steve. “I trust you.”
“Well, trust is nice, but what if I snore? Or make a lot of noise when you’re trying to sleep? I might be a bad roommate, you don’t know.” She’d think he’s trying to talk her out of it, but his smile is teasing - like Max’s when she’s pulling a prank on someone.
“Hopper snored, and he was bad at being quiet.”
Joyce says, “I still don’t like it. There’s just a lot of variables you two aren’t considering.”
“Compromise,” Jane suggests. “We can do a test. I’m not going to school until next fall; if things here don’t work out, he can drive me up to Chicago.”
Steve nods. “That sounds reasonable. Any objections, Joyce?”
Joyce finally gives up. “You’re the one who has to tell Owens. If you want to be in charge, you have to deal with him. Have fun with that; he just loves inventing cover stories.”
“Fair. Well, Hopper, you can put your stuff in my trunk whenever; I’ll leave it unlocked. I’m gonna go help with the boxes. Shout if you need something!”
She smiles. Hopper. She likes that.
–
August 3rd, 1985
Owens is a person Steve never quite understood. The man carries himself casually, with a relaxed posture and half-hazardly put-together clothes. He talks to people like he would an old friend, just catching up at a diner. He asks Steve to meet him in a diner. All of it almost makes him forget why he’s here. Not for lunch, but to sign NDA’s, to swear secrecy lest the government hunt him down.
The doctor waves him down, sandwich in one hand and crumbs on his face. Steve hides his hands from view in hopes the man won’t notice them shaking.
“You know, this is my second time having this conversation,” Owens says with a chuckle, wiping the crumbs from his mouth. “At least this time I won’t have to come up with a birth certificate from nothing.”
Steve gives him an uneasy smile. Is he supposed to laugh? The guy’s joking, sure, but about a dead guy. Sure, most of his conversations with Hopper were lectures about noise complaints from his party days, but…still.
“Right, right. Serious.” He holds his hands up, then pulls out a folder. “Go ahead and look it over.”
First, the usual series of NDA’s. The same shit rewritten in every possible way to get rid of any loopholes. Talk, and you die. No way out of it. Then…the adoption forms.
“I’m not actually an adult yet, sir. Legally. And we’re not even sure if she’s staying here yet.”
“Oh, I know. I can’t exactly call up your parents to sign, though, can I?”
Again, tone kept casual, yet Steve feels himself stiffen all the same. “Right.”
“As for that trial period agreement of yours, once the three months are up, you either sign it yourself or send it and the girl up to Joyce. If she stays with you, tell everyone your parents took her in; it’s more believable, but legally it’s safer if she’s in your custody.”
He nods along, still reading through everything just to be sure he didn’t miss a signature and get himself sniped the second he walks outside.
“Great. Now, speaking of what you’ll tell everyone. The story–I’ve got a copy of it in there, be sure to have the others look it over. Memorize it. The story is that Jane is a foster kid. Came from a bad home, Hopper took her in.”
“And..how are we explaining her not technically…existing? Until now?”
“She wasn’t ready to be around people yet. He’s been homeschooling her, and now that he’s no longer…around, you and your parents have offered to take her in.” He pauses for a moment, waits for Steve’s nod, and continues. “Now, I know she may be eager to go to school now that she can walk around freely, but I’m afraid she might not be ready just yet. I can set her up with a tutor to–”
“No.” He says quickly, harshly. Steve takes in a breath. “No, I– I’m sure I can find someone.”
“Don’t want any more government spies lurking in your business?” The man says with a coy smile. Bastard. “How about this? I send you the learning material, you get her the tutor. Sound fair?”
“Sure.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
For some reason, Owens goes the full mile, holding his hand out to shake. Steve quickly reciprocates, shoves the signed papers back his way, takes the folder, and stands to leave. He pauses, just as he starts to walk.
“Is it…safe…to mail this to Mrs Byers? I can just call her and catch her up, but–”
“No need to worry, kiddo! My new office is just outside Chicago, she’s practically on my way! I’ll send you a number, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything, yeah?”
A short nod, he has to fight the urge to sprint outside. The feeling of unease doesn’t leave him until he’s driven five miles out from the meeting spot. His hands still shake when he leaves his car. He doesn’t understand how Hopper put up with that guy’s crap all these years.
If you want to be in charge, you have to deal with him.
He gives himself a second to catch his breath before pulling into his driveway. If Joyce asks, things went perfectly. They have to.
–
August 5th, 1985
The first thing Will unpacked was a radio.
There’s no reason to. The party agreed their first attempt at communication would take place after school started, to have something to talk about. He still scrambles all the same, throwing the boxes filled with clothes and bedding to the side and focusing on setting up the radio.
It isn’t the latest model, sure, but the party spent all their arcade money getting him one, and Dustin fixed it up to the point Will would argue it’s better than anything on the market.
Besides, it can reach Hawkins.
The days in between when they first reach Chicago and the first day of school are a blur. They’d decided to give him time to get settled and to give them plenty to talk about, but by day two, he’s already unpacked all of his stuff, helped Jonathan and Mom with theirs, and prepped for school.
The first day…he wishes they decided to talk before it. He doesn’t have much to share, nothing that he wants them to know about. Max wasn’t kidding about how awkward it is for the new kid. Talking about him slinking around crowds and getting weird looks all day is kind of a mood killer.
Despite that lingering fear, he almost trips getting to his room to set up the connection. Dustin’s handwriting is completely indecipherable, but besides the small dent he put in it during the initial setup, he’s able to get everything ready without much issue.
“Will to Hawkins, Will to Hawkins. Does anyone copy?”
Silence. Static. An unwanted memory of the hours spent pleading with Suzie to respond worm their way into his head. Sure, he might be a bit late to their agreed meeting time, but…they wouldn’t just leave, right? What if they never came? What if this was just some cruel joke or–
“We copy! This–this is Mike. We copy.”
Will lets out a sigh of relief.
“Did you guys get there ok? Over.”
“Oh uh…Dustin and Lucas are still catching up.” Will hears a few loud breaths. “I uh…I kind of ran?”
Will laughs. When he sees Jonathan in the corner of his eye, he goes to slam the door shut, rolling his eyes at the man’s sly smile.
“Will? Are you there?”
“Yes, yes, sorry!” Will clears his throat. He wasn’t expecting to talk one-on-one, even if it’s only for a few minutes. “So um…how is everyone else? You know, who’s not here.”
“Max is being a jackass. El, uh…” There’s a long pause. “She’s doing fine. Steve is like, stupidly overbearing.”
“At least it’s not Hopper?”
“He might actually be worse!”
Will laughs and is about to ask more when another voice crackles through the speaker.
“Will! Hi buddy! It’s me, Dustin!” He barely discerns it, with what he assumes is Lucas and Mike trying to shout over him. “How’s the setup doin' you? Too much? Sound ok?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Tell me about school. Any cool clubs? Are the people worse or better?”
He’s hoping the focus on them will keep them from asking anything about him. He knows it works with Dustin, at least. If he rambles enough, he’ll forget where the conversation started. Mike and Lucas…are a lot more perceptive.
After a bit of spiraling, he realizes there wasn’t any response.
“Hey, um…did the connection fail? Sorry, I might have set it up wrong.”
“No! No, you’re fine.” Lucas says quickly. “We were just figuring out if we should–well. Some people were worse. Some people were better. We um…we did find a club.”
Another bout of silence, with Will waiting anxiously for them to elaborate. He hates the hesitation, the idea of what it could mean. What if they got invited into the popular crowd day one, and they’re letting him know they’re giving up on all their old hobbies forever?
He needs to stop–his mind always goes to the worst places.
“We met this guy, his name’s Eddie. Insanely cool–well, by our standards. He’s into DnD.” Mike’s voice is a lot softer than usual, like how he used to talk to him when he first came back from the Upside Down. “He has a club…for it.”
Oh.
Will looks at the emptied boxes in his room, a mess he’s been too lazy to clean up just yet. One of them…housing his mini figures. His binder of characters. The manual, the dice, he didn’t keep any of that. If he remembers, they ended up giving it to Erica.
Why would he need it? He’d never join another party. He said that.
“I can’t believe Jonathan kept that from me.” He says in the lightest tone he can manage. “We could’ve hunted that guy down sooner, gotten in a summer session or something!”
He can feel the relief from the party. Lucas is the one to speak up.
“We can do a one-shot anytime you visit! The guy’s an insane DM, seriously.”
“And you’ll tell me everything that happened in your sessions, right?”
“Of course!” The three boys replied in unison.
He laughs, easy at first, but it fades fast. The boys continue to ramble about their day, everyone they spoke to, so much that happened in just a few days. His grip on the microphone tightens, and he hopes the static will hide whatever strain there is to his voice.
They’re happy. He can’t resent that.
–
Nancy flips through the booklet in front of her. She crosses her legs, uncrosses them, then crosses them again with the opposite leg on top. Another quick skim of one of the various other collections of papers in front of her, before she shoves them all away and sighs.
“Steve, I can’t do it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looks genuinely remorseful. He doesn’t immediately blame her, doesn’t even look mad. It still surprises her, for some reason. She’s known this new version of him, the more self-aware version, but every time it still catches her off guard.
“I know it–” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, it’s…It’s a lot. I don’t think I realized how much she had to catch up on. I just–he offered sending someone and–”
“No, no, you made the right choice. I trust that guy as far as I can throw him. Take his charity, sure, but I wouldn’t blame you for being apprehensive about whoever he sends to lurk around your house.”
“Robin said she could help. With her reading and history and shit. So…I don’t know. Math was the only class that made even a little sense to me. I could try and tackle that, then that just leaves science, right? That works?”
“That’s not the issue,” Nancy says firmly. “She needs someone who knows how to teach, not just someone who knows the subject.”
“I know. You’re right. You’re always right. I just–”
Nancy watches as each thought projects itself onto his face. He takes a moment to collect himself. As their conversation goes on, she notices that the time taken gets longer and longer, the panic more intense with each pause.
“Maybe I…she should have gone with Joyce. I made a mistake, I can’t do this.”
“Steve.” Nancy moves to sit a bit closer to him, gripping both his shoulders in a gesture she hopes is reassuring. “She’s got enough on her plate as is. She’d be running into the same issues. You’re doing fine. We’ll figure something out.”
Her hands fall back to her sides, and in that quick moment the two are suddenly made aware of a third person in the room.
“You broke up.” El says the moment their eyes are on her, in an unemotional tone, like stating a simple fact. “You’re not supposed to talk to each other after you break up.”
Nancy and Steve share a look, Steve quickly stacking the papers back together and setting them out of view.
“Right…” She starts to say, a bit unsure. “I mean, a lot of times, yes, but that depends on what caused the breakup, you know? And how it ends.”
“No, but…that means something bad happened. You can’t be friends anymore. Hopper said…he said movies are not accurate, but all of them say that.”
The two teens are quiet for a moment. They meet each other's eyes again, a silent conversation occurring. Steve looks concerned, flicks his eyes over to El, and tilts his head. Nancy shakes her head, glances down at the papers, and turns back to El.
“I’m pretty sure the kids have been left alone for too long. I’ll go make sure they haven’t burnt anything down.” Steve quickly shoots up from his seat, gives Nancy’s shoulder a quick squeeze as he passes, and is out of the room before El has the chance to question how they got here.
Nancy tries to gesture at her, to get her to sit down, giving her space as the girl cautiously follows the invitation.
“So…why are you still friends?”
Nancy takes a long breath in and huffs the air out. “We weren’t compatible from the start. We got together because we thought that’s what we were supposed to do, and stayed too long because of the same reason.”
“Didn’t you love each other?”
“We did. We still do. It’s just…not the kind of love we thought it was. He means the world to me, he really does. He’s a lot kinder than I was led to believe, and he’s fun to be around. I just…I don’t love him romantically. It took me a while to realize that was okay.”
El nods. Her posture is a bit hunched over, her face scrunches up, and she holds the sleeves of her dad’s oversized flannel like it’s a lifeline.
“You wanna tell me what this is about?”
Her grip gets a bit tighter, her face a bit more pained, before eventually the tension starts to dissipate.
“It is…okay? If I love someone…But I am not sure if it is the way I should?” El looks up at her, and Nancy feels a weight start to press on her body. A look of hope, something she could crush with the wrong turn of phrase. It’s terrifying. “How do I know if I am doing it right?”
“I’m not sure when I knew, exactly. Things just started feeling insincere, like I was performing what I thought a romantic relationship would look like. I got angry with him more, and I’d feel better when we weren’t around each other.”
Though Nancy didn’t notice at first, she’d begun furiously tugging at her fingers. She avoids looking back at El to see how she responds. She focuses on the fidgeting and hopes her words are enough.
“It’s never just one thing. I don’t think it’s just one person, either. One day you just…you realize it isn’t real.”
El nods. She looks solemn, a grim sort of acceptance on her face. Nancy hates it. She really does.
“Will he hate me?”
She pauses her fidgeting for a moment. Her mind flickers back to the countless months spent in their basement, listening to a channel for a girl he thought might not even be alive.
“He could never hate you.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, El leaps towards her, slamming her into a violent, desperate hug. Nancy squeezes back and hopes it's enough reassurance to get her through the difficult conversation.
“Hey, I was just about to get you.” Steve waves the two girls down the moment they leave the room, though when El separates herself from Nancy, he takes her place, speaking in a lower tone. “How’d it go? Is she ok?”
Nancy looks back at the girl in question, pulling Mike away from the Party to a different room. He looks a little nervous himself, not worried…nervous. Strange.
“She will be. I think.” She twists and tugs at the end of her sleeve. “I just–Mike can be…stupid sometimes, you know?”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
“I just hope he doesn’t react badly. If he gets caught off guard, if he’s hurt, he might say the wrong thing and…it’s a delicate time for her. Maybe I shouldn’t have encouraged it.”
Steve shakes his head. “Nah, I’m sure it’ll be a lot easier than you think.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Him and I had…probably about the same conversation you did.” Steve puts on an easy, relaxed smile. “He really does care about her. I think he just couldn’t understand how until someone spelled it out for him.”
Nancy let out a small laugh, feeling herself relax along with him.
“You aren’t kidding about the delicate situation, though. I remember my first heartbreak…Absolutely gone on Nicole Johnson, and even more devastated when I found her kissing Tommy in the bathroom outside Mr. Clarke’s class. Poor guy…I imagine dealing with kids’ love affairs was not in the job description.”
“That’s it!”
“Huh?”
“Mr. Clarke! He used to do after-school tutoring! He’s the only reason Mike managed to pass all his classes in the eighth grade when he had his whole too cool to learn stint!”
Steve snaps his fingers and nods. “The kids worship the ground the guy walks on. We know he’s at least a little trustworthy.”
“I’ll call him and get it set up. Hopefully it’s not too late to square away some time…” Nancy hums in thought, then pauses. “Wait. You said Tommy. Tommy Hagan?”
“What? Sorry?”
“Don’t even try to–you stayed friends with him? Oh my god!”
“Hm? Nope, don’t know what you’re talking about. The subject change lacked a transition. I really do apologize.” Steve shrugged and started to step away. “Oh! Do you hear that? I think Dustin just broke something expensive! I should go check on it!”
“Harrington, I swear to–” Nancy huffs and starts to chase after him. “Don’t you walk away from me!”
–
August 6th, 1985
The mall burns down. It’s easy to understand why - Kline was corrupt. He took dirty money and signed off on an unsafe building, and dozens of people died trapped there after hours. It’s typical; corners are cut and safety is ignored in favor of Kline’s wallet. And the power outage at Hawkins General just before… God. What an awful tragedy.
Karen believes her kids. She’s tried so hard to give them space, to show them she would be someone safe, that they can trust her, and they have. They have trusted her.
Mike and Nancy have told her what happened in Starcourt. How they both got trapped in the wreckage as it fell apart around them; how horrible it was to know people were dying and unable to do anything about it.
How Hopper saved them both. She’s had her issues with the way the Chief went about things in this town in the past, but she takes it all back. God. He saved her babies. She’s so filled with gratitude.
It’s not that she doesn’t believe them. But they’re dealing with so much. This is just the latest tragedy in a line of tragedies for her children; Barbara Holland got killed in a chemical leak, and she and Nancy have been best friends since the second grade; Will went missing for a week. They had a funeral for him. They’ve already gone through so much.
So she goes to the Book Club in hopes that the other parents will have some answers, or advice, or even just a shared sense of community about the things their kids have gone through. That’s not what she finds.
She sits in the Sinclairs’ living room; it’s their turn to host, apparently. Sue Sinclair offered her a cup of coffee that she hasn’t quite managed to actually drink out of. The second she asked a question about the mall fire, she was met with chaos.
“It was not a normal fire,” Claudia Henderson insists. “My Dusty was reading up on Russian spies and invasions - it’s so obvious the Russians were up to something and using the mall to do it. They had to burn the whole place down when they got caught.”
“This isn’t one of your spy novels, Claudia.” Charles Sinclair rolls his eyes. “I agree with Karen. This is a classic case of cut corners.”
Scott Clarke raises a hand - maybe it’s just ingrained in him at this point. “But what about the chemical leak a few years ago? You don’t think that’s related?”
Sue shoots Karen a sympathetic look and clears her throat. “Now, remember, this is Karen’s first time. You’ve all had years to think about your personal pet theories; she’s just getting started.”
Karen frowns at Sue. “You don’t have a theory?”
The other woman shakes her head. “Personally, I’m more interested in what Scott learned at Steve’s house. You met the girl herself, right? Jane?”
He nods. “Yes. Her behavior certainly supports a theory for a more dangerous situation than the one Steve was telling me. And her academics… it would be impolite to get into it, but let’s just say whoever took care of her previously clearly had no interest in her education at all.”
Charles grunts. “Maybe English isn’t her first language.”
“Oh great,” Claudia sighs, “here we go. She’s not an escapee from some war torn country, Chuck, she’s -”
Sue leans in towards Karen. “It’s like this every time.”
“I just don’t understand… why would our kids be lying?”
“They might not be,” she admits, “but you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t wonder. I don’t have a theory like the rest of these fools. But you and I both know that this town has seen some hell these past few years, and some of that was being kept from us. They covered up that girl’s death, right? And she was your daughter's friend?”
“Nancy didn’t know anything had happened for sure.” After Will came back and Barbara stayed missing, Nancy admitted that her bad feeling could have been related to the other missing kid in town. But Karen can’t help but remember that day that Nancy came to her in tears. She’d seemed sure then.
Sue sighs. “Listen - if the people in this ‘book club’ are even half-right, our kids have had to clean up a lot of messes. And even if they’re wrong - even then, who was Mike dating this summer? How did he even meet Jim Hopper’s adopted daughter? You and I both know he could be paranoid and ornery, may God rest his soul. You really think he was just letting random boys meet her?”
“I was hoping he’d tell me about it someday. I was planning on making a meatloaf for her; I really, really want to meet her.”
Scott elbows his way into their conversation. “Ah, I have some unfortunate news there. I believe Miss Hopper and Mike may have just broken up.”
Sue explodes. “What? Why?”
Karen buries her head in her hands. Is this really her life? Her son breaking up with a girl he dated for nearly a year, and Karen never even got to meet her? God, nobody tells her anything.
“I think I’ll be coming back,” she says to Sue, helping the woman wash everyone’s mugs once most of the others have left. “I just - I don’t think my kids are liars. But they’ve clearly been through something, and maybe together we can figure out how to reach them. I want them to know I’m there, Sue. That they can talk to me.”
Sue pats her shoulder sympathetically. “I hope that someday Lucas and Erica will let me all the way in. Until then…” She grins slightly. “Do you wanna see my relationship board? The lives these kids lead is, phew, more complex than a soap.”
Karen laughs. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”