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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Story [Stranger Things] Take One Moment Into My Hands | Kessel Run Challenge

Discussion in 'Non Star Wars Fan Fiction' started by amidalachick, Jan 14, 2022.

  1. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    Title: Take One Moment Into My Hands
    Genre: Various
    Timeframe: Various
    Characters: Various
    Notes: My entry for @ViariSkywalker's Kessel Run Challenge.

    I doubt I'll get very far with this challenge but I wanted to try.

    Thread title is taken from The Promised Land by Bruce Springsteen. His music is such an inspiration to me and one of the few remaining sources of light in this dark, awful world. Please give it a listen and hopefully it can bring some joy to you too! [face_love]

    *

    Index

    Week 1: À Bientôt (Robin, Steve)
    Week 2: just whisper the word 'tomorrow' in my ear (El, Billy)
    Week 3: The Ties That Bind (various characters/pairings)
    Week 4: Salt And Water (Pacific Ocean, Billy)
    Week 5: if you close your eyes does it almost feel like nothing changed at all (Steve/Billy, OCs)
    Week 6: Invisible (Jonathan, Nancy/Steve, Joyce/Lonnie)
    Week 7: Married Filing Jointly (Steve/Billy)
    Week 8: Full Of Grace (Billy's mother)
    Week 9: Eggos Gone (El)
    Week 10: Accepted (Steve/Billy)
    Long Vignette: 5 Times Billy Woke Up + 1 Time He Didn't (Steve/Billy, Billy's mom, Neil, Susan, Max, Heather)
     
    Last edited: Mar 30, 2022
  2. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    Week 1

    Prompt: “Saying goodbye was never easy, but she couldn’t put it off any longer.”

    Title: À Bientôt
    Characters: Robin, Steve
    Notes: I had a few different ideas for this prompt and I knew I couldn't do justice to any of them so I went with 'let's Project onto fictional characters'. :p

    This is barely even fanfic at this point, it's just completely OOC trash set in a delusional little 'verse that has literally nothing to do with the actual show and is not worth wasting your time reading. I've been staring at it and second-guessing myself for so long that I honestly can't even tell anymore if it makes sense at all. I'm not happy with it, but I haven't been happy with anything I've written in a very long time so I can't use that as a guide either. But the point of trying this challenge was to actually try writing and posting again, so here we are.

    *

    À Bientôt

    *

    Saying goodbye was never easy, but she couldn't put it off any longer.

    She lifted the handle of her wheeled carry-on suitcase and met Steve's eyes.

    She'd already said her goodbyes to Billy, and to Max and Lucas when they came over for New Year's. They'd texted and Skyped with the rest of their friends, scattered across the country and the globe. Even though they weren't there in person it reminded her of New Year's Eve 1999, when they'd all gathered at Joyce and Hopper's house back in Hawkins. While the rest of the world fretted over Y2K they'd laughed and celebrated, knowing they'd already lived through the end of the world.

    She'd made several trips back to the US in the twenty years since. A few summer vacations, a few Christmases. The wedding. Steve visited Paris a couple of times. They were used to this.

    That didn't make it any easier.

    "Well." Steve shoved his hands in his pockets. "I guess this is it."

    "Yeah." She tightened her grip on her suitcase, rolling it back and forth as she spoke to distract herself from oncoming tears. "Hey, cheer up, dingus! August isn't that far away."

    "Yeah." He managed a smile. "A whole month together. You sure you won't get sick of us?"

    "Only if you embarrass me with your lame American tourist ways," she said.

    They laughed, then lapsed into silence again, a silence comfortable from decades of friendship yet heavy with the grief of parting. It was broken by an announcement, a pleasant female voice reminding travellers not to leave their luggage unattended and to be prepared for security searches.

    "Robin - " Steve began, then stopped.

    "I know," she said.

    She dropped her suitcase and rushed back into his arms for one more long hug.

    "Bon voyage," he said, mispronouncing the words just as he had since she was a junior in college leaving the US for the first time.

    Robin sniffled and wiped her eyes, and smiled.

    "Love you," Steve added in a softer voice.

    "Love you too," she said. She took her suitcase handle again and pushed her purse strap higher up on her shoulder, already looking forward to next time, to August, just seven months away. "À bientôt."
     
  3. brodiew

    brodiew Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Oct 11, 2005
    Nice one, amidalachick! I liked the line. well done. As with all of your ST fics, there is a melancholy that is also in some way comfortable. the words convey the length of time the characters have known and cared for each other.
     
  4. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Excellent. =D= The farewell is heavy with wistfulness.
     
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  5. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Lovely written piece showing the long friendship between the two
     
  6. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    Thank you all for reading and for your comments. I'm sorry I don't have enough spoons to do individual replies right now but I do appreciate your readership.

    *

    Week 2

    Prompt: Write a dialogue-only story between 400 and 800 words in which two characters have a disagreement.

    Title: just whisper the word 'tomorrow' in my ear
    Characters: El, Billy
    Notes: My usual post-S3 garbage.

    I wasn't going to write anything, and I'm struggling to decide whether I should just give up and delete this whole thread. But this came to mind and I decided to post it because even though the story is crap I wanted to share the song that inspired it. Please give it a listen!

    Devil's Arcade is a gorgeous, haunting Springsteen song that I never paid much attention to until early last year (I've linked the acoustic version I've been listening to lately, although the original is just as hauntingly beautiful). When I did - the lyrics hit me so hard. The context for the song is the Iraq war, a wounded solider, and their spouse/partner, but to me, the 'devil's arcade' is a metaphor for trauma in general, and learning to live with and overcome it. On a personal level, this song has helped me through some very dark times and if I ever make it out the other side of this, I plan to add one of the lyrics to my little collection of rock'n'roll ink.

    On the fandom side, I've been wanting to write a fic around this song for a long time but I don't think I'll ever be able to. It inspired this, though, and the title is a lyric from the song as well. I only read this over once, and I wanted to post it before I overthink it and talk myself out of it, so please let me know if it's too confusing. Concrit is always welcome!

    And if you choose to read, thank you.

    *

    just whisper the word 'tomorrow' in my ear

    *

    "Billy? Can you hear me?"

    "What? What are you doing here? Are you - god, you're dead, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - "

    "No, no, I'm not, it's okay. It's okay. I'm alive. You saved me."

    "Then how - how are you here? I don't understand, you're not supposed to be here, I don't understand..."

    "I can - see. Like before. Your memories. Your mind."

    "Why?"

    "Max. She asked me to - find you. She misses you."

    "No, she doesn't."

    "Yes. She does."

    "She shouldn't."

    "She wants you to come home."

    "... I can't."

    "You don't want to. You're afraid."

    "You think?

    ...

    Sorry."

    "It's okay.

    ....

    Can I see? Where you are?"

    "I thought you could already see everything. When you - look, or whatever you do."

    "I only see what you show me. I don't snoop."

    "... I guess. What the hell does any of this matter anyway?"

    "It's beautiful."

    "It is."

    "A special place?"

    "It was my favorite beach. Sometimes in the summer, when I was off school and he was at work, we'd leave early in the morning and stay there all day.

    ...

    One time they had a really big fight, and the next day she kept me home from school. We went to the beach, and we stayed even later than usual, until it was dark. I said we shouldn't go home, we should stay at the beach and live there. She said - she said someday we would drive away and find another beach... away from him... "

    "... I miss my mama too."

    "Did she - is she - ?"

    "No. But her brain is - hurt. Aunt Becky says it's like she's dreaming all the time. My papa was a bad man. He hurt her when she came looking for me. She - showed me. Like you."

    "I'm sorry."

    "Your mama's not here."

    "... No.

    ... I don't know where she is."

    "Come home. Max is there. Friends are there."

    "Friends.

    ...

    Heather was my friend. You saw what I did to her. I gave her to it - I killed her - I killed her, her parents - all of those people..."

    "No. The monster killed them. You're not the monster."

    "Yes, I am. You saw - you saw it all."

    "I opened the gate."

    "What?"

    "The first time - Papa made me look, made me go there, and I was so scared. I opened the gate. I didn't mean to, but I did it. I brought it into our world, I hurt my friends, it was all my fault. I was the monster."

    "No - no. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."

    "Mike told me that. He said I wasn't a monster. And he was my friend, and friends don't lie."

    "Yeah? He's never lied to you?"

    "Once."

    "What did you do?"

    "I dumped his ass."

    "Good for you. Don't tell Max I said this, but boys are stupid. Especially when it comes to love. So don't ever take any crap from him, or anyone, got it?"

    "Got it.

    ...

    Do you love someone?"

    "No snooping, remember?"

    "Okay.

    ...

    He didn't lie about that. About me being a monster. My friends believed I wasn't a monster, I wasn't one of the bad men. And neither are you."

    "I wish it was that simple."

    "... It's really beautiful here."

    "Yeah."

    "You miss it."

    "Yeah.

    ...

    I miss her, too."

    "Then tell her."

    "Tell her yourself. Do that for me."

    "You should come home."

    "I told you. I can't."

    "'Can't' is a lie."

    "...I'm scared."

    "It'll be okay."

    "No, it won't."

    "It will. You won't be alone this time."

    "... I have to think about it, okay?

    ...

    I won't - leave - without telling you."

    "Promise?"

    "Promise."

    *****

    "Hi."

    "Hi."

    "You decided?"

    "Yes."

    "And?"

    "I want to - come home."

    "Can I tell her?"

    "Nah. I'll tell her myself."
     
    Last edited: Jan 20, 2022
  7. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    I like how you have written this dialogue, touching with the song
     
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  8. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan It really is such a gorgeous, touching song. [face_love] Thank you for reading! (Also, I tagged you here to say thank you, but please never feel obligated to keep reading!)

    *

    Week 3

    *

    Prompt: Write a set of 5 drabbles with the following prompts: beacon, discovery, arcane, sister, burden

    Title: The Ties That Bind
    Characters: 1. Robin, OC; 2. Hopper/Joyce; 3. Max, El; 4. Hopper, El; 5. Steve/Billy
    Notes: In the immortal words of Hank Hill, "Did you mean for all those words to come out together, or did they just fall out randomly?"

    The correct answer is "randomly." :p I had nothing, not even a glimmer of an idea, but I had a bit of free time yesterday so I sat down and tried writing whatever came to mind. It resulted in this nonsense that doesn't really have much to do with the prompts and doesn't follow canon in the slightest. Is it complete and utter garbage? Yes. But if I don't post them now I won't have time to do it at all, and I'm really trying not to let the anxiety win this time, and life is complete and utter garbage anyway, so posting them I am.

    This week's title is from the song The Ties That Bind. Would anyone like to guess who sings it? [face_thinking][face_laugh]

    I've also rearranged the prompts from the order they were given into chronological order (so a few years pre-S1 all the way to 2015). And just to be safe, a warning that the third drabble, "Sister", contains references to infertility and surrogacy.

    Finally, if you choose to read, thank you! And please take care of yourselves and stay safe.

    *

    The Ties That Bind

    *


    1. Discovery

    Becky Greene didn't sit in front of the TV painting her nails. She didn't complain when Robin asked her to read her favorite story, again. She even used different voices for different characters.

    She played dress-up, soccer, catch; pushed Robin on the swings and climbed the jungle gym with her.

    Her first year in college, she sent a birthday card. Robin's fingers traced Becky's loopy handwriting, memorizing the words.

    Becky came back to Hawkins with her husband. Robin ran into them at Melvald's.

    That was when she realized she wished she was the one who got to kiss Becky Greene.

    2. Burden


    Sometimes she thinks it might crush her.

    The lights will flicker, and she doesn't know if it's real - if it's starting again - or if she's just imagining it.

    She'll wake up from dreams of underground mazes and keys and everyone she loves disappearing, and she won't go back to sleep until she's checked to make sure they're all safe in their rooms.

    Hop holds her tighter on those nights.

    He dreams, too, and sometimes it's his shouts that wake her.

    Then it's her turn to hold and comfort and say it's gonna be okay.

    Sometimes she believes it.

    3. Sister

    El calls her after the most recent specialist appointment.

    Another failed round of IVF. Another heartbreak.

    She gets the idea as she's falling asleep. Lucas urges her to think it over, but she's already decided.

    El and Mike are with her when Theresa Elizabeth Wheeler is born on a warm May day in a San Diego hospital.

    Lucas brings the kids up later. Billy and Steve came down from L.A. There are hugs and pictures, tears and laughter.

    El catches her eye, and they share a smile.

    They know better than anyone it's not only blood that makes a family.

    4. Arcane


    He scrolled through personal photos, videos of dogs and cats, and pictures captioned with words and acronyms that made no sense to him but seemed to be funny, judging by the comments.

    Much as he hated to admit it, he was too old for this.

    He paused when he recognized one of El's pictures from last Christmas, when she and Mike came home and he finally gave in and let her set him and Joyce up with Facebook.

    Dad and me!! she'd written, adding a heart and a tiny Christmas tree.

    He would never be too old to understand that.

    5. Beacon


    He plowed through the crowd, Tommy and the other hangers-on at his side, his focus entirely on one person.

    He didn't expect Hawkins High's newly-dethroned former keg king to take his breath away, and he blamed the alcohol for how the world seemed to stop around them when Steve removed his sunglasses and their eyes locked.

    But it wasn't the alcohol. It was just Steve.

    It's always been Steve.

    And as he joins Steve by the altar where sunlight spills through the stained-glass windows, and their gazes meet as they take each other's hands, he knows it always will be.
     
    Last edited: Jan 30, 2022
  9. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    I cannot see the show here but reading your excellent pieces I get to know the characters and love them all.
    Great reply to the prompts
     
    amidalachick likes this.
  10. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Nice reciprocal comforting in "Burden". Sweet family feels in "Sister". "Arcane"... [face_mischief] Love how Hop is not too old for family ties.
     
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  11. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan I love them too so that means so much to me! Thank you. [:D]

    @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Thank you for reading! [:D]

    *

    Week 4

    *

    Prompt: Write a story between 100 and 1,000 words from the perspective of the Force. For non-SW, write from the POV of an incorporeal or immortal entity or a concept/force or place appropriate to the fandom you're writing in.

    Title: Salt And Water
    Notes: I don't know why I'm even bothering to do these since I'm not going to finish the challenge anyway. But, much like getting up every day to go to a job where I don't make enough money to live on, I keep doing it anyways. Because what else is there to do?

    The usual - I can't do justice to my ideas and I'm not happy with how this turned out, but I never will be. Mostly I just wanted to share the album I was listening to while I wrote, because it's gorgeous. Pacific Blue by Nicholas Gunn. Please give it a listen! [face_love]

    Take care of yourselves, and stay safe.

    *

    Salt And Water


    *

    Why do you hesitate?

    You know me.

    I hold secrets and stories.

    I am a cradle and a grave.

    I am salt and water.

    Take a step.

    I've kissed a thousand shores, from the frozen poles to the sunny tropics, but now I dance around your feet.

    I've drowned empires but now I splash against your skin.

    Go deeper.

    Your secrets and stories are heavy.

    Cast them to me and let me buoy you up.

    Listen.

    My waves ebb and flow, a murmur as rhythmic as your heartbeat.

    It's the same sound, isn't it?

    The sound of salt and water.
     
  12. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    a beautiful poetic description of a force
     
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  13. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan Thank you for reading! [:D]

    *

    Week 5


    *

    Prompt: Write a story between 600 and 1,000 words with your OTP (or any romantic pairing, canon or otherwise) in which your characters do not touch, and that includes the following sentence: "All things considered, this was an interesting way to wind up in prison."

    Title:
    if you close your eyes does it almost feel like nothing changed at all
    Characters: Steve/Billy, OCs
    Notes: Title is from Pompeii by Bastille.

    I had a few ideas for this week's prompt but this was the one that actually came to mind first. It's something I've been thinking about for a while.

    Content warning for COVID and pandemic-related topics. It is based on reality, obviously, but is not entirely accurate. This is a fictionalized version of some of my own personal feelings and experiences, projected onto my comfort characters.

    It is absolutely not my intention to trivialize or be disrespectful of anyone's losses or experiences during the pandemic, and if I have done so, I apologize and I will remove/change anything as needed.

    Please take care of yourselves.

    *

    if you close your eyes does it almost feel like nothing changed at all

    *

    The text came shortly before lunch.

    Mai and Miguel, two of his employees. Both close contacts. Both tested positive.

    He quickly explained the situation to Carla as he gathered his things. Told her he'd be working from home and available anytime.

    She told him not to worry about the store, they'd be fine.

    "Stay safe," she said, concern in her dark eyes.

    "You too," he said.

    He texted Billy from the parking lot.

    He got home first and moved some things into one of the guest bedrooms and bathroom. Disinfected everything he'd touched.

    That night, they heated up leftovers separately. He kept some dishes set aside for himself. Wiped down every surface after he'd used it.

    Billy blew him a kiss and called I love you from the safety of the living room.

    He returned the words and the kiss, and retreated to the bedroom.

    *

    The nightmares returned when the shutdowns began and they realized they were facing a new monster.

    Tonight, and for the next thirteen nights, they wouldn't face it together.

    He threw the covers off and scrubbed his hands through his hair. Paced around the room.

    Tried to decide if the flushed, heated feeling on his skin was the beginning of a fever or just his imagination.

    The thermometer said it was just his imagination.

    In the bathroom he splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection.

    It wasn't the first time they'd been apart in the past thirty-five years.

    But it would be the hardest.

    With nothing else to do, he went back to bed to wait for morning.

    *

    All things considered, this was an interesting way to wind up in prison.

    Well. It wasn't actually prison.

    And it was for a good reason. Staying home and hiding away in the guest bedroom protected people like Carla, who lived with her mother and a three-year-old son. His other employees - the teenagers and college students, the parents supporting their families, the immigrants building a new life, the elderly people trying to make ends meet. Their customers, who trusted his store was a safe place to purchase their groceries.

    His friends. His family.

    Billy.

    He knew that but at 3 am, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, all he could think was that it felt like a punishment.

    Confined to his house and missing everything that made it home.

    No cooking dinner together, no watching TV or reading books together.

    No walks, no bike rides, no trips to the beach or long drives.

    No sex, no kisses, no hugs.

    It was almost funny, really.

    After Hawkins he never would have expected something as simple as a virus to cause the apocalypse.

    *

    His phone pinged, startling him. He must have dozed off in front of the TV.

    IM BORED


    He snorted. me too!

    what r u wearing pretty boy?


    He looked down, although he already knew the answer. He hadn't bothered to change clothes today.

    gray sweatpants. with the navy t-shirt.


    His phone rang immediately.

    He snatched it up and pressed the button to accept Billy's call.

    They spent more time laughing than anything else.

    "Thanks," Steve said after.

    "Anytime." Billy's voice softened. "I miss you."

    "I miss you too."

    "You're still - okay?"

    "Yeah. You?"

    "Yeah."

    "I love you."

    "I love you."

    Steve held the phone in his hand long after they'd both hung up.

    *

    It was boring, but not quite as lonely as he'd expected.

    Carla checked in daily. He answered her questions and gave advice if she asked, but she was smart and capable. He knew the store was in good hands.

    He kept in touch with Miguel, Mai, and their families. Miguel was expected to make a full recovery. Mai's condition was steady - no better, but no worse. So far none of the other employees had caught it.

    Robin, Dustin, Nancy and Jonathan, Max and Lucas, and all his other friends called, texted, and messaged regularly.

    Dustin arranged a group Zoom call. It wasn't a total disaster.

    Friday night, he and Billy ordered pizza with contactless payment and delivery. Steve took his half to the guest room. Billy stayed in the living room. They watched Top Gun together on separate TVs and texted commentary to each other the entire time.

    *

    Mai's daughter called early in the morning.

    He sat on the edge of the bed after hanging up with her, a hundred thoughts racing through his mind.

    He didn't want to be alone right now.

    Billy sounded half-asleep. "Everything okay?"

    "Mai didn't make it."

    "I'm sorry, Stevie."

    Silence fell between them before Billy said, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

    He shook his head, then remembered Billy couldn't see him. "No."

    "Okay."

    "Just - " He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. "Don't hang up yet?"

    "I won't."

    With his eyes closed, listening to Billy's breathing and the ambient noise of the house through the phone's speakers, he almost felt like he was in the same room.

    He almost felt comforted.

    *

    On day fourteen he remained symptom-free. He took a test, just to be sure.

    When it came back negative he left the guest room and headed for the home office where Billy was working.

    He looked forward to leaving the house, even if only to walk around the neighborhood. And he looked forward to going back to work tomorrow, although it wouldn't be the same without Mai.

    He'd been thinking about a suitable way to honor her and do what they could for her family. He had a few ideas but he wanted to talk to Carla and get some input from their employees first. Mai had been a special woman, and she and her family deserved the best he could offer.

    He would start by continuing to serve their customers and playing whatever small part he could to help them live as safely and normally as possible.

    For now, all he wanted was a hug.
     
    Last edited: Feb 11, 2022
  14. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    great reflection on real life and an excellent response to the prompt
     
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  15. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan Thank you for reading and for your sweet comments! [:D]

    *

    Week 6

    *

    Prompt: Write an AU (alternate universe) story of at least 500 words where the moral alignment of one of your characters is the opposite of (or drastically different from) what it is in canon and/or Legends (or the source material, for OCs or NSW fandoms).

    Title: Invisible
    Characters: Jonathan, Nancy/Steve, Joyce/Lonnie
    Notes: I had a few different ideas using a few different characters for this prompt, ranging from pure crack to...honestly really dark. This was the one I ended up writing. It was a step waaaaaaay outside my comfort zone and I really don't know how I feel about it, but I'm trying to just keep going with the challenge and not care, and I don't have time to write something different, so I'm just going to throw it here.

    Content warning for domestic abuse and stalking. The post linked below also contains discussion of child abuse/domestic abuse and images from scenes where this is portrayed in the show.

    A while ago I came across a tumblr post comparing Jonathan's reaction to Lonnie shoving him with Billy's reaction to Neil shoving him.

    For this prompt, I thought of that post and what might happen if Joyce wasn't able to leave Lonnie. This was also inspired by Jonathan's pictures of Nancy and the party at Steve's in S1.

    On a lighter note, I feel bad for putting Jonathan, Nancy, and Joyce through this and I'm hoping the muse will cooperate enough to write them some nice happy fluff to make up for it! :p

    As always, please take care of yourselves and stay safe.

    *

    Invisible

    *

    Jonathan takes his seat at the table reluctantly.

    Will's sitting there already, head down to avoid even accidental eye contact.

    His dad's digging into his plate of food while his mom brings out the last of the serving bowls. She's still in her Melvald's smock, her name tag pinned on the left side.

    "These are runny," Lonnie says, holding up a forkful of mashed potatoes. "How did you manage that?"

    Joyce's shoulders slump and her mouth tightens. The movements are slight, but he notices. He always notices. His dad doesn't.

    "I don't know," is all she says.

    She sits down. Jonathan waits until she's served herself to start eating.

    The silence is broken only by chewing and forks scraping against plates. He eats as quickly as he can so he can get away from the table faster.

    After, he goes to his room and grabs his camera.

    His mom's washing dishes while his dad sits in the recliner, TV remote in one hand, a can of beer at his side.

    He doesn't say a word as he leaves the house, and neither do they. He's not sure they even notice.

    He learned how to be invisible a long time ago.

    *

    Nancy Wheeler's dressed simply tonight in a light pink sweater and jeans, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She's beautiful.

    She's always beautiful.

    He smiles when he sees her. Lets himself imagine she's smiling back. That it's his arm around her shoulders, his face close to her ear, whispering something that makes her laugh and swat at his arm before leaning in against his side.

    He gets one quick picture as she's climbing into the maroon BMW.

    He waits until they're out of sight before he gets in his car to follow. He's not worried about losing them. He knows where they're going.

    Nancy, he thinks, would be surprised at how much he knows about her.

    It's a benefit of being invisible.

    She and Steve Harrington have been coming to this place in the woods for about a month, shortly after they started dating. It's private, away from the other make-out spots around Hawkins.

    There's a full moon, and even among the trees there's enough light that he can see into the car.

    He lifts his camera and adjusts the lens.

    Nancy's framed in the rear windows, her hair now loose and spilling around her shoulders. The pictures won't be high-quality but for now they'll be enough.

    He presses the shutter button, again and again.

    She looks towards the camera, towards him, and for a moment he thinks she can see him.

    He shuffles backwards, still half-crouching, clutching his camera protectively. Waits.

    Neither Steve or Nancy come chasing after him, though, and after a few minutes he ventures closer again.

    He only leaves when the roll of film is full.

    *

    He waits a few days to develop the pictures.

    The house is quiet when he comes in, a heavy stillness like the air before a tornado. His dad's passed out in the recliner, snoring. His parents' bedroom door is shut, and he knows whenever his mom comes out she'll have bruises on her face and act extra cheerful, as if to make up for whatever transgression she committed.

    He finds a note on the table.

    "Jonathan - can you pick Will up from the Wheelers' at 7? Thanks, Mom."


    He goes to his room and locks the door.

    Takes the envelope with his pictures from his bag and gets the box from its hiding spot in the back of his closet.

    He can't resist flipping through the newest images once more before he places them in the box and puts it away. He'll have more time later to go through them, after he picks up Will.

    *

    Mrs. Wheeler answers the door. She calls downstairs to the boys, saying it's time to go, and assures him they'll be right up.

    While he's waiting for Will he wonders if Nancy's home.

    She's probably upstairs in her bedroom. It's all pastels and florals. She keeps a teddy bear on her bed.

    She doesn't know he knows what her room looks like.

    He pictures her in there. Maybe she's studying. Or talking on the phone with her friends. With Steve.

    Or maybe she's out with Steve right now, never giving him so much as a thought. He fights off the impulse to run upstairs and check.

    She'll see him eventually.

    Until then he'll stay invisible.
     
    Last edited: Feb 17, 2022
  16. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    a lonely boy, invisible to all. Great writing
     
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  17. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan Thank you so much for reading and for your lovely comments! [:D]

    *

    Week 7


    *

    Prompt: Write a story between 100 and 1,000 words that is entirely introspection. No spoken dialogue, no action.

    Title:
    Married Filing Jointly
    Characters: Steve/Billy
    Notes: I don't even know what this is. I'm not entirely sure it fits the prompt but it popped into my head and I don't have time to pretty it up or come up with anything else, so here we are.

    Also I know nothing about the American tax system, although I think it's similar to ours, so I googled IRS tax forms to see if this was even a thing (because it's Important to be Realistic when writing in a fandom with monsters and alternate dimensions and people with psychic abilities and powers, you know) and now I'm having horrible flashbacks to the tax course I took one semester. The textbook was entertaining at least, I honestly think the authors were secret fanfic writers. Or maybe soap opera writers. But that's a story for another time. :p

    Finally, if you choose to read, thank you!

    *

    Married Filing Jointly

    *

    He's sure the IRS has made people cry before, but not like this.

    Not over a check mark and two names.

    It's not even the first time he's seen it in writing. He filled out piles of paperwork to change his driver's license, credit cards, all of his documents. He didn't cry over that, just grumbled about god damn bureaucracy.

    And this is so mundane. A chore to be checked off a list. An annual pain in the ass that they do and forget about until next year.

    Crying over a damn income tax form. He must be going senile. Max would laugh herself silly if she ever found out.

    The form is bland and impersonal, government bureaucracy in all its soulless glory. Still, he can't stop looking at it, a check mark and two names, printed neatly in black and white.

    For thirty years they've built a life together and last summer they made it official with a church ceremony and a reception, solemnity and celebration.

    It's a recognition of that. Of putting broken pieces together. Healing together and growing up together.

    It's an affirmation that they're not their parents. He's not his father.

    It's a check mark next to Married filing jointly and two names, Steven Harrington and William Harrington, underneath.
     
  18. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Love that about the taxes being a pain in the ass. You have to do those forms each year
     
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  19. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan Haha, yes, they are a huge pain in the ass! Thank you so much for reading and commenting! [:D]

    *

    Week 8

    *

    Prompt: Write a story of at least 400 words from the POV of a character you hate/dislike and make them sympathetic.

    Title:
    Full Of Grace
    Characters: Billy's mother
    Notes: The obvious choice for this prompt would be Neil Hargrove, because in the corners of fandom where I lurk, he is basically a universally hated character. But I couldn't come up with anything there, so I took a couple of ideas from a couple of fics I'll never write and mashed them together instead. I have very limited free time this week, so it was this or nothing. :p

    Content warning for domestic abuse, child abandonment, and alcoholism.

    I'm not very familiar with Catholicism, although I find a lot of beauty in its traditions and art. The Hail Mary can be found here. I wrote this fic off a quick Google search and I only read it over once, so any mistakes are entirely 100% mine.

    If you choose to read, thank you!

    *

    Full Of Grace

    *

    "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee."

    The words echo in her head as she closes her fingers around her pendant, taking solace from the Blessed Mother.

    He reacts better than she'd hoped. He twirls her in his arms, kisses her and tells her he can't wait to be a father.

    And as the months pass without another incident, she convinces herself it really was just a mistake. An accident, an unfortunate loss of temper brought on by too much overtime.

    She stopped going to church when she married him - he's made his opinions on Catholics, Jews, anyone who doesn't follow his ways, clear - but she kept her rosary.

    She takes it out while he's at work and turns the beads in her hands as she recites the prayers.

    She's a mother now.

    She's responsible for this little life, and she adds a prayer of her own to ask the only Mother she can for strength and guidance.

    *

    She waits until Neil's left for work and Billy's left for school.

    He told her once, that if she ever tried taking their son - my son, he'd said, icily calm - he'd find them. Make her regret it.

    The bruises around her neck and the ache in her ribs tell her his words aren't empty threats.

    She shoves a few necessities in a suitcase, moving quickly, afraid he'll come home early. She has to do this now, before she talks herself out of it. Before he apologizes, again, and says he'll change, again. Before she believes him, again.

    Billy's room is her last stop.

    Her hands are shaking so much it takes her three tries to undo the clasp on her necklace.

    He's her baby, and she'll do whatever it takes to protect him.

    She can't protect him if she's dead.

    That's why she has to leave like this, without even a goodbye.

    He's too young to understand, but she hopes he will one day, when she comes back and explains it all.

    She closes her eyes and says a prayer.

    Then she sets the pendant on Billy's nightstand, leaving the Blessed Mother to watch over her child.

    *

    A little blond-haired boy runs along the boardwalk, laughing.

    Her heart lifts and her breath catches before she remembers, again, that he wouldn't be a little boy anymore.

    He's eighteen.

    She wonders if he's going to college. If he has a girlfriend or dates around. If he still surfs, has a job, has friends, hobbies, dreams.

    She wonders if he kept any of the birthday cards she sent. If he ever got them.

    She wonders if he still likes watching Fourth of July fireworks.

    Atlantic City is crowded tonight, the boardwalk and restaurants and casinos packed with revelers enjoying Independence Day at the beach.

    She keeps a smile on her face during her shift, fetches drinks and carries trays and asks "Can I get you anything else?" in polite tones, but she's thinking of mistakes and regrets and her son.

    Later, after the fireworks and festivities, after she's hung up her apron for the night, she walks home. The night is muggy, the air heavy around her, but she doesn't want to face anyone else right now, not even a taxi driver.

    She passes the church she's passed so many times before. Her rosary is long gone, lost in a move or a boozy haze, and she hasn't been to a church in years.

    She's not sure why she tries the door, but it opens and she goes inside.

    There's no one else there at this hour. Her footsteps echo in the emptiness as she walks to the chapel where the Virgin stands. The Blessed Mother's face is serene, her soft smile and blue robes projecting tranquility, her open arms waiting to embrace her child.

    The tears flow as she kneels and confesses the burdens she's carried all these years. How she planned to get a job and an apartment, to go back once she was settled and had a home to bring him to. How she'd ended up as a casino waitress in Las Vegas, where the alcohol flowed freely and helped her wipe away her grief every time she called Billy and listened to him plead for her to come home.

    How, one day, the phone number was out of service and she numbed the terror of realizing she'd lost her son with even more alcohol.

    How a boyfriend convinced her to head east with him, and left her alone and penniless when they reached Atlantic City.

    How she was struggling to stop drinking and reclaim her life. To find her son.

    She finishes with the prayer she thought she'd forgotten, the words coming back to her as clearly as if she'd just heard them spoken.

    "Hail Mary," she whispers, "full of grace..."
     
  20. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    touching and a mother shouldn't go through this
     
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  21. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan Thank you for reading and your lovely comments! [:D]

    *

    Week 9


    *

    Prompt:
    Write a poem in any style/form, and of any length.

    Title:
    Eggos Gone
    Characters: El
    Notes: My sad attempt at poetry is just stupid but I don't even care anymore (okay, that's a lie, I do care but I don't know how to make it better so it is what it is). I just want to finish this challenge to prove - something - to myself. That my brain isn't entirely gone and I'm still capable of writing garbage stories, I guess.

    *

    Eggos Gone

    *

    A box in the woods -
    Eggos gone; a little girl
    Comes in from the cold
     
  22. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    Week 10

    *

    Prompt: Write a story between 100 and 400 words, and include these three words: galvanize, cavalier, adversary

    Title:
    Accepted
    Characters: Steve/Billy
    Notes: As usual, just some dumb fluff with my trash ship and a heaping dose of projection. Also as usual I had a few different ideas, and I'm not happy with how this one turned out but I don't have time to make it better or pursue another idea. It's done, anyway, and that means I managed to write for all 10 prompts! Which is more writing than I've done in a long time, so I'll take it.

    I don't know yet if I'll be doing the long vignette so just in case this is the last entry, I want to say thank you to anyone who's taken time to peek in here. And a special thank you to @earlybird-obi-wan for her support and loyal readership. It really means a lot! [:D]

    Take care of yourselves, and thank you again. [:D]

    *

    Accepted

    *

    Steve stares at the large envelope lying on the table. It's addressed to him, with the official school seal in the top left corner.

    He spent weeks wrestling with his old adversary, the college application, and even longer waiting for the results.

    Now that he's got them, though, he's tempted to take the envelope and throw it in the garbage. He's not eighteen anymore, but he's pretty sure age won't make rejection any easier. And it's not like he needs to go back to school. Maybe this was all a mistake.

    "Aren't you gonna open it?"

    Billy's question is enough to galvanize him into picking up the envelope.

    He takes a deep breath, then grins, keeping a cavalier tone as he says, "Well, at least my dad's not here to bawl me out this time."

    "Hey." Billy comes to him and wraps his arms around him. "Screw him. You're smart, and you're brave, and you've got this."

    He steps back enough to give Steve space to rip the envelope open.

    There are a few brochures and a catalogue inside, but Steve's focused on the letter.

    "Dear Mr. Harrington," he reads aloud, then pauses, reading the next words to himself before repeating them out loud. "We are pleased to offer you admission, blah blah blah... part time the first year, and if I do okay, I can switch to full time." He looks up. "I got in! Billy, I got in!"

    Billy tackles him in a hug, and they laugh and kiss and shout as they dance sloppily around the kitchen.

    The rest of the Party is just as excited when they hear the news.

    Steve knows his acceptance is just the first step on a long journey. But he's not eighteen anymore. This time it won't be a lonely journey. And wherever it ends, he knows he'll be okay.
     
  23. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Great to see Steve being accepted by the school. Billy is supportive.
    And now up to the final part of the Kessel Run. I am looking forward to your story.
     
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  24. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The (FavoriteTM) Fanfic Mod With the Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jun 29, 2004
    I have been remiss with SO MANY reviews for the Kessel Run challenge, like the true mook I am. But I hope you'll believe me when I say that these have all been so incredibly lovely! As much as I enjoy ST as it is, I take great joy in this AU - as happy as it is and it allows these characters to be, instead. Sometimes we just need happy endings, and my mind rather defaults to this 'verse now. [face_love]

    That said, this review isn't going to be nearly as comprehensive as this collection deserves, but in particular, I enjoyed:

    I LOVED THIS! The same as with so much of your work: headcanon accepted. [face_mischief] [face_love]

    Also my headcanon now is Robin living abroad - and still being friends with these dinguses, of course. :p

    Beautiful. [face_love]

    I think this was my favorite story out of your entire run, as hard as that is to choose. All of your dialogue was so powerful - about healing and finding common connection in pain and allowing yourself to heal. I love all of your El and Billy stories, and this one was no exception. [face_love]

    I will never not love how you explore Billy's connection to the ocean. [face_love]

    This was such poignant common ground! [face_love]

    Ha! I loved this. [face_laugh] [face_love]

    Gaaaaaaah! My heart. [face_love] Yep, who needs canon? [face_batting]

    Something that really struck me about your series is how you addressed coping with trauma from so many different angles. As much as I love the Hopper/Joyce content here - those papa and mama bear instincts have to always have them on high alert after the monsters they've faced, and yeah, nightmares are going to be a thing - but it was the allowing herself to be comforted that really got to me. We can tell each other and be told everything is okay, and that helps, yes, but the trick is believing it.

    I loved this line! [face_love]

    Excuse me while I just grin for all of the feelings here. [face_love] (And laugh for Hopper vs Modern Technology. [face_laugh] [face_mischief])

    This literally knocked right into me - because this is the ocean, and with your prose you managed to put something bigger than words into words. I really can't applaud this enough. =D=

    [face_love] [face_love] [face_love]!!!

    Speaking of writing that just slammed into me . . . I usually avoid things that deals with the pandemic for just how raw the subject still is, but you really managed to capture the highs and lows of quarantine throughout this entire story. We need each other as human beings - especially through loss, which we've all had to deal with one way or another over the course of the last few years. I feel that this was incredibly respectful; it was a tribute. =D=

    This was another difficult subject that you handed with grace. =D=

    True! [face_love] [face_laugh]

    This one, too, hit me hard all the way through. The religious symbolism and imagery was especially well done. =D=

    Gaaaah, this was perfect! You said so much with so little, just like the best haiku do. [face_love] =D=

    Heck yeah to this! :cool:


    I'm so glad that you decided to participate in this challenge! Thank you for sharing your work with the rest of us. =D= [:D]
     
  25. amidalachick

    amidalachick FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 5 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Aug 3, 2003
    @earlybird-obi-wan Thank you so much for reading and for your lovely comments! It means a lot to me and I really, truly appreciate it. [:D]

    @Mira_Jade Thank you so much for your kind words and all of your support! [:D]

    Don't worry, I've completely failed at reading and reviewing throughout this challenge and I feel so bad about it. Thank you for taking the time to comment!

    I'm sorry, I don't have enough spoons to do a proper reply, but I do want to say that I've read your comment over a few times and it really means a lot to me. Thank you again. [:D]

    *

    Week 12


    *

    Prompt:
    Write a longer vignette/one-shot of at least 2,000 words using the "5+1 Times/Things" format.

    Title:
    5 Times Billy Woke Up + 1 Time He Didn't
    Characters/Pairings: Billy, Billy's mother, Neil, Susan, Max, Heather, Steve; Steve/Billy
    Notes: Can you tell I was stuck for a title? :p

    At the beginning of this challenge I wasn't even going to attempt this last long vignette. I had no ideas and 2,000 words was too intimidating to think about.

    Then, as so often happens, I heard a song. I actually heard it for the first time months ago, and tucked it away in my "ideas" doc where it stayed until I heard it again a few weeks ago. I drafted a drabble, then started thinking maybe I could use it for the 5+1 story. The song is 18 And Life by Skid Row, and that initial draft became part 4 of this fic.

    Content warnings for child abuse and mentioned suicide attempt.


    I wouldn't have finished this at all without the person from one of the Harringrove Discord servers who was kind enough to look it over and reassure me there was a story worth telling. A big thank you to them for that!

    Thank you to @ViariSkywalker for coming up with the Kessel Run challenge and all of these fun, awesome prompts!

    Thank you to @earlybird-obi-wan for her loyal readership and all of her support. [:D]

    Thank you to everyone who's read these or shared support and encouragement throughout this challenge. Kindness seems hard to find these days, but this community is one place where it still exists.

    And finally, if you choose to read this fic, thank you. [:D]

    *

    5 Times Billy Woke Up + 1 Time He Didn't

    *

    1.


    The white lines zip by so fast they start to blur. Watching them makes him sleepy. But he's determined to keep his eyes open. He doesn't want to miss a minute of this day.

    It's not often he gets an entire day alone with his mom, sitting in the car next to her, towels and beach toys piled in the backseat. It’s better than Christmas.

    She glances over at him. "Are you sleepy, baby?"

    He shakes his head.

    "Alright," she says. "But it'll still be a while until we get there. You can rest if you want."

    "No." He sits up straighter to prove he's wide awake. "I'm not tired."

    She smiles and reaches for the radio dial. "Want to listen to some music?"

    "Yeah!"

    His mom turns the dial until she finds a song she likes. A lady's singing about love, and she starts to sing along. She seems happy today and that makes him happy.

    After his dad announced he was going on a fishing trip with some of his friends, his mom said she'd take him on a trip, too. She said they would go to the beach all day, and she'd even buy McDonald's for dinner, but he couldn't tell his dad.

    All week he'd kept the secret and hoped his mom wouldn't get sad and change her mind like she did sometimes. Last night, when she came to tuck him in, he'd asked her anxiously if they were still going on their trip.

    She'd assured him that yes, they were.

    He'd been so excited after that he'd had trouble falling asleep, and now his eyelids are getting heavy again.

    Before he falls asleep for real, though, his mom turns into a parking lot and stops the car.

    "Here we are!" she says, and he jolts into action.

    It's so early in the morning that it's not too crowded yet. There are a few old people walking along the shore, and a couple of small groups, but there's plenty of space on the sand for them to lay out their towels and set up the buckets and shovels.

    "Can I swim now?" he asks.

    "Sunscreen first," she says, and taps his nose.

    He closes his eyes as she slathers the goopy white cream on his face and arms and legs. When she's done, she squeezes his shoulders.

    "Don't go in too far, okay? Stay where I can see you."

    "Aren't you coming in?"

    "Later," she says.

    He runs to the water and into the waves, yelling with delight as the foam splashes around his knees. A bigger wave knocks into him, but he stays on his feet and goes farther, until the water’s up to his chest.

    He looks back and waves to his mom. She waves back, shielding her eyes with her other hand to see him better.

    He spends the morning splashing and swimming, and he hopes next time she'll let him try surfing. When she calls him for lunch he goes in without a fuss. He's starving.

    The beach is busier now, and there are more people in the water and on the sand, but their towels are comfortable. He leans against his mom while they eat their sandwiches and watch the hungry seagulls strutting around, hoping for some crust.

    After lunch they build a sand castle and take a walk. He finds a pretty polished stone, shining soft pink in the sunlight, and hands it to her.

    "It's beautiful," she says, and squeezes his hand.

    They walk back through the edge of the water, letting the waves lap around their feet, and she doesn't let go of his hand.

    He goes for another swim, and when he comes in she wraps the towel around him and says, "Ready to go?"

    "Can we stay longer?" he asks.

    "No, baby," she says softly. "We have to get home. We'll get McDonald's, though, okay?"

    "Okay," he agrees.

    They eat in the car, sitting at the edge of the parking lot, and she even buys ice cream after dinner.

    He's full and sleepy and it's been a long day. Somewhere along the highway, as hard as he fights to keep his eyes open, he falls asleep.

    He stirs when she's carrying him into the house.

    "It's been a long day, hasn't it?" she says.

    He nods against her shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of sunscreen and salt air and mom.

    "Good day," he says.

    "A very good day," she agrees.

    "Can we have pancakes tomorrow?"

    "We'll see," she says.

    He manages to brush his teeth, and she helps him put on his pajamas, and then they snuggle up together to read a bedtime story.

    He drifts off to sleep somewhere around the third page, dimly aware of her kissing the top of his head and saying good night, sleep tight.

    He drifts off to sleep knowing she'll be there when he wakes up again.

    2.


    Jeremy invited him over, said his parents were having a barbecue and doing fireworks in their backyard. But Neil said no. Said family time is important. So he's here, trailing behind his father and Susan and Max, wishing he was anywhere else.

    They came early to get a decent spot and ended up beside a palm tree, closer to the parking lot than the water, but with a good view for the fireworks. There's a playground farther up the beach, and children's laughs and shrieks carry on the evening air.

    As Neil sets down the two lawn chairs he's carrying, and Billy sets down his two, Max asks if she can go to the park.

    Susan looks up from where she's rummaging through the picnic basket. "I don't want you wandering off alone in this crowd, sweetie."

    Max huffs a frustrated sigh and pouts. Billy knows what's coming next.

    Sure enough, Susan smiles. It's the brittle, polite smile she uses with strangers, the same one she always uses with him. "Billy, can you take her?"

    No, he wants to say.

    He doesn't want to watch Max play at the park. He wants to be at Jeremy's.

    "Can't she go by herself?" he says instead. "It's not that far."

    "Billy." Neil's tone is a warning. "Susan was nice enough to prepare this picnic for us. Surely you can walk over to the park with your sister for a few minutes."

    Billy bites back his reflexive response of she's not my sister and glowers at Max, who's poised like she's waiting for the starting gun in a race.

    "Let's go," he says, and starts walking without waiting for her.

    "We'll be eating soon," Susan calls. "Don't be too long."

    Max catches up and races past him. When they reach the playground she stops and looks up at him, her eyes bright and wisps of hair already coming loose from her ponytail.

    "Want to go on the swings?" she asks.

    He folds his arms. "No."

    "Want to play tag?"

    He can't believe her. The playground is full of kids swinging, climbing, and running around, and she still won't leave him alone.

    "I don't play baby games," he says, then gives her a mean grin as he adds, "Maxine."

    Her face twists in a scowl, and he knows she's trying to decide which is the worse insult - being called a baby or being called by her full name.

    She finally settles on, "I'm not a baby!"

    "You sound like one," he says, and turns his back to her.

    She finally runs off, and soon she's joined in a game of tag. He drifts down the beach, closer to the water. There's a group of older teens, smoking and laughing, and two surfboards lay in the sand behind them.

    He's only surfed a few times since his mother left. A pang of longing strikes, and he decides he'd better go back and get Max before he does something stupid like snatch up one of the boards or start to cry.

    She's not at the playground, though, and he doesn't see her nearby. He's almost running when he arrives at the lawn chairs under the palm tree.

    Max is sitting with a can of soda in her hand, her face flushed and sweaty. Susan's hands are folded in her lap, but she's fidgeting with her fingers.

    Neil's standing next to the chairs, and his stare sends a chill through Billy.

    "Where were you?" he asks, each word precise.

    Billy's tempted to lie, to make an excuse about Max not listening to him and running off.

    But his dad hates liars.

    He swallows. "I went for a walk." His voice cracks on the word walk.

    "You mean you left your sister alone, after you were specifically asked to watch her," Neil says.

    Billy squirms, unable to meet his father's eyes.

    "Look at me," Neil says.

    Billy lifts his chin and blinks a few times, trying to hide how he's trembling.

    "You left your sister alone with strangers to go for a walk," Neil says. "You think you can just do whatever you want with no thought to anyone else?"

    "She was fine, Dad!" Billy protests. "She was playing with the other kids - she was right in sight, you can see the park from here - "

    "Yeah, I was playing tag," Max cuts in. "There were lots of kids, I wasn't by myself."

    "Answer the question," Neil barks, ignoring her. "Did you, or did you not, care enough to watch your sister? Did you think of anyone except yourself?"

    "No, sir," Billy says after a short, painful silence.

    Neil exhales noisily, gazing past Billy as if he's thinking. Billy has a wild surge of hope that maybe this is all he'll get, maybe it won't be so bad. Then Neil's hand darts out like a cobra to grab his arm.

    "You were selfish and irresponsible," he says. "You will apologize to Susan and Max, and then you're going to sit in the car and think about what you've done. Do you understand?"

    Billy can't speak. He wants to break away, wants to run, wants to scream and cry and hit something.

    Neil jerks his arm, hard. "Do you understand?"

    "Yes, sir," Billy chokes out, then mutters, "I'm sorry, Susan. I'm sorry, Maxine."

    Before either of them can reply, Neil marches him to the car and shoves him in the back seat.

    Hanging on to the door, he shakes his head.

    "You disappointed me tonight, son."

    Billy shrinks into the seat, hoping he won't cry in front of his father.

    Neil keeps watching him, each second feeling like hours, then rolls the window down a few inches.

    "Don't you dare try and leave this car," he says.

    Billy flinches when he slams the door.

    He huddles on the seat as the sky grows darker and the air cools off. Music and conversation drift around him, distant sounds of happiness he can't reach. He puts his fist to his mouth and bites down, trying to stop his tears, and when that doesn't work he punches the seat back, again and again.

    A boom announces the start of the fireworks, and he catches glimpses of the colorful explosions between the palm trees and the edges of the windows, sparkling through a blur of tears.

    He used to love fireworks.

    When it's all over, and they're driving home, Max keeps up a steady chatter about the picnic and the fireworks and the evening that he missed. He knows better than to tell her to shut up, or to remind his dad that he never got any dinner, or to say anything at all. He just goes quietly to bed, and wakes up the next morning with a grumbling stomach and a tear-stained pillow.

    3.


    The insistent buzz of the alarm breaks through his dreams. He paws at it, wondering why he had it set so early on a Saturday, before he remembers.

    It's orientation day.

    He's tempted to skip it. He did the training last summer. It would be easy enough to go back to sleep and call later to say he was sick, there was a family emergency, he had to watch his little sister. He’s learned that if he delivers the excuse with sincerity, a suitably apologetic tone, and a bit of charm nobody ever questions it.

    In the end he decides to go. It'll be a long, boring day but it'll get him out of the house and away from Neil. And it's not like there's much else to do in Hawkins.

    Driving too fast with Metallica blasting, he's almost in a good mood when he arrives at the pool. Three kids hang around the entrance gate, waiting for the other two trainees and the pool manager, Henry, to show up.

    "I can't believe we got up for this and they can't even be bothered to be on time," one of the boys grumbles.

    The other one suggests why they might be running late, and they snicker.

    The third person, a girl, ignores them, studying her nails as if the fire-engine red polish is the most exciting thing she's ever seen.

    They have a couple of classes together, but he's never spoken to her. He doesn't intend to start now. He moves a few steps away and lights up a cigarette.

    She seems to take that as an invitation.

    "This is worse than school," she says.

    He shrugs. "I'm used to early mornings."

    "I mean, I can do it," she says. "But Saturdays are for sleeping in." She holds out her hand. "I'm Heather."

    He knows her name. Everyone knows Heather Holloway's name because the Holloways, like the Harringtons, are Hawkins royalty.

    He's curious about why a spoiled rich girl whose daddy runs the town newspaper and has all sorts of connections chose to spend her summer working as a lifeguard at the public pool.

    Curious enough to take her hand and shake it. "Billy." He takes a drag on his cigarette and blows the smoke out. "You swim?"

    "Yeah," she says. "I actually competed for a few years. I've done diving, too." She smiles. "What I'd really like to learn is scuba diving."

    He's surprised. "You ever tried it?"

    "Once," she says.

    Before she can elaborate, the others arrive and orientation begins.

    Henry sounds bored as he makes introductions and goes over regulations and protocol. He keeps staring at Zoe.

    He gives them a tour of the facilities, and then it's time for lunch.

    "Do you want to sit out by the pool?" Heather asks, tucking a long black curl back into her messy bun.

    Billy was planning to eat in his car, but he's enjoying Heather's company. And he wants to hear her scuba diving story.

    "Sure," he says.

    They take their sandwiches and sodas and sit cross-legged on the pool deck. The sun is warm and the scent of chlorine hints at the summer ahead.

    Heather tells Billy about scuba diving in Florida the last time she visited, how she was so amazed by the colorful fish and the underwater world, how she's already thinking of going to college there.

    He tells her about surfing. About California. Not everything, but more than he's told anyone else in Hawkins.

    She's the first person to ask what it was like to move across the country halfway through high school.

    He hesitates before telling her the truth.

    "It sucked."

    "I bet," she says.

    She doesn't push. Doesn't bat her eyelashes and say she can make him feel better, doesn't come on to him, doesn't make a move. She just sits in the sun with him, and listens.

    Billy thinks maybe he's made a real friend.

    Maybe this summer won't be so bad.

    4.

    Heather screams.

    It echoes inside his head until it's all he can hear.

    He's crouching over her, and she's screaming, and the monster's right there, and he wants it all to stop, can't make it stop.

    Heather turns into Max, and that's when he wakes up, expecting blood on his hands and dripping into his sheets.

    It's just sweat and tears. His chest hurts and his head's pounding and his mouth is dry.

    He reaches for the cup of water on his bedside table and lifts it with a shaking hand but he's afraid to take a sip. Afraid all he'll taste is chlorine and rot.

    He sets it back down and tries to focus. Tries to do the breathing exercises Dr. Owens recommended. Reminds himself he's in the hospital, and the creature is gone, and Max is safe, and the girl - El, her name is El - is safe.

    He lays down again, and rolls onto his side, trying to find a less painful position.

    At first he couldn't remember much. Max sobbing, a soft voice saying it's okay, it's going to be okay, a small hand in his. Slipping in and out of consciousness, unsure if he was awake or dreaming.

    The memories started coming after a few weeks. Flashes, glimpses, but all crystal-clear.

    Mrs. Wheeler. The crash, the steelworks, the creature. Heather, so concerned, trying to help him.

    Her terrified screams as he took her to it. Her parents. The others - innocent men, women, and children that he lured to their deaths.

    Max, El, Dr. Owens, even some of Max's dorky friends all said it wasn't his fault.

    They were lying. It was his fault, and it wasn't okay, and it would never be okay, because he woke up and Heather never would. All those people never would.

    He'd thought about taking the pain pills Dr. Owens prescribed. All of them at once, enough to be sure he wouldn't wake up again.

    Coward, his father's voice sneered as he'd stared at the little white tablets cupped in his palm.

    Instead of swallowing them he'd thrown them at the wall.

    He couldn't take them because he deserves this.

    Nobody outside a small group of people will ever know what he's done. No court will ever convict him.

    So this is his punishment.

    Pain. Nightmares.

    Waking up every day, and remembering.

    5.


    He wakes up completely disoriented.

    This isn't his bed. Slowly he takes in his surroundings. Gray and white plaid wallpaper and curtains. A desk, a bedside table.

    A bed where the most beautiful boy he's ever seen is sound asleep, sheets pulled up just past his waist, one arm tucked under his head, the other thrown across his pillow.

    He watches for a minute, a tightness in his chest that has nothing to do with the scarred skin there, before throwing the covers off.

    There's a spacious bathroom next to the bedroom, but he heads downstairs instead. He goes to the kitchen after for a drink of water. The glass is heavy in his hand and he sips from it slowly, not ready to face Steve again just yet.

    They'd been friends for a while. Actual, honest-to-god friends.

    That was why he'd told Steve that he was in love with him. He didn't want a friendship built on lies and deception. He was done with all that.

    He'd expected Steve to laugh, or punch him, or repeat everything Neil had always said about him.

    He hadn't expected Steve to take his hand and say he loved him too.

    They took things slow, not wanting to rush into anything after all the hurt and heartbreak. Last night they decided they were ready to take the next step. It wasn't the first time, but it was their first time.

    A small part of Billy's mind wonders if it's even real. Maybe this is Steve's revenge for what he'd done to him and the kids on that November night that still haunts him along with all his other sins. Maybe every warm embrace, every kiss, every murmured endearment is a ruse designed to draw him further into a trap. Maybe Steve knows he's pathetic enough to fall for it.

    But. He's not the same person he was that November. He's come a long way since then. Since July. He hopes he's better.

    He's doing better. He's still going to therapy, even when it feels too difficult to face his demons. He's keeping up with school and thinking about college. On Dr. Owens' recommendation he began volunteering at the animal shelter, and it feels good, using his hands to help instead of hurt.

    If he's a different person now, if he can grow and change, so can Steve. He decides to trust that Steve, too, is genuine.

    Billy drains the glass, sets it in the sink, and goes back upstairs.

    Steve promised him breakfast. He'll stay until morning, and they'll figure things out from there.

    6.

    He pads back to the bedroom, trying to avoid floor creaks and keep his steps as silent as he can, as silent as a ninja.

    He's almost there when he bangs his shin off the edge of a box.

    He curses, then freezes and looks towards the bed.

    Billy doesn't stir. His mouth's open slightly and his breathing is steady. One arm rests under his cheek, the other's sprawled across the sheets.

    Carefully, quietly, Steve lifts the blankets to slide under them. He shuffles closer to Billy and drapes an arm over his waist.

    It's not often they get to do this. Their schedules don't always align, and Billy's an early bird, usually up and on the go before Steve manages to open his eyes.

    Today, though, Billy's sleeping peacefully and there are no jobs or classes to rush off to. They have to finish unpacking and go to the grocery store at some point but that can wait.

    As the first light of the California sun glows through the curtains, Steve nuzzles against Billy and basks in this new day with his boyfriend.
     
    Last edited: Mar 30, 2022