Welcome back and Happy New Year. Gonna start 2021 off right with a new installment. I enjoyed writing from Dustin's POV and am looking forward to writing him more in the future! Hopefully you guys enjoy it just as much!

One-shot Title:

Turn And Face The Strange (Changes)

Characters/Ships:

Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, Will Byers, Jonathan Byers/ NO SHIP

Alternate Summary:

Mike had been right last summer - they weren't kids anymore. But that didn't mean they had to outgrow each other, and they weren't going to.

As long as Dustin and Will had anything to say about it.

Hawkins, Indiana

April 18, 1986

If Dustin was certain of one thing - if he had to place all his bets on one, single idea - it was that everyone had a favorite day. His mother's was Sunday and Suzie's was Thursday because it was the day they had met, but his favorite day was Friday. For a number of reasons, including the fact that he was born on a Friday, but one towered over all of them: it was the last day of school and the first day of the weekend. The only day of the week he could enjoy being a teenager, whether that was doing something stupid (with and without his friends) or just sitting back and lounging the day away.

Today was going to be his favorite Friday, because it was the honorary game night with his fellow male members of the Party. Every friend group needed a Mage and a Zoomer, but theirs began with just four members: the Paladin, the Ranger, the Bard, and the Cleric. Four boys in their own world, just fighting to survive middle school and the foes threatening to sever their bond - bullies, demogorgans, the responsibilities of existing in the world of the living. They were still close, but it was hard to see through fractured glass.

The cracks were widespread when Dustin returned from camp last summer, but subtle. Easier to gloss over while he and his friends fought off Nazis and fugly, flesh-eating monsters. However, in all honesty, that band aid was just a coverup. Another distraction from the real problem, that they were growing up.

And fast.

Freshman year was more than halfway done already, and they only had three more years of living in the same small town. One-thousand and ninety-five more days of attending the same school, playing Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, watching movie marathons. Hell, he'd even go as far as to sacrifice his pride and play the third wheel whenever Lucas and Mike needed time with the girls . It didn't matter what they did, just as long as they were doing it together.

The bell chimed above the classroom, jolting Dustin from his self-absorption. He shot up from the back of his chair, eyes wide and alert as his classmates abandoned their desks, a fraction of them already rushing into the hallway. Swiping his belongings from his desk, he joined them with a grin, chorusing a goodbye to the biology teacher.

Several voices carried on in chatter, but they fell deaf on his ears as he walked, shuffling past his fellow students and turning a corner. He finally saw the row of blue lockers through the sea, its population far sparser than the one he had left behind. Skidding to a stop in front of his designated compartment, he made swift work of the lock and stuffed his books behind his backpack before slamming the door shut and sliding the shackle back into place.

His stomach growled all the way through his walk to the cafeteria, but the noise faded in with channels of meshed conversations as he stepped through the double doors. He stepped into the lunch line, his mouth salivating as he caught a whiff of the fresh tomato sauce and warm mozzarella.

Pizza Fridays PLUS game night with his best friends.

Dustin was sure he was in heaven, and nothing could drag him from his high. Not even Skeletor himself.

"I can't meet you guys tonight, something came up."

At least, that's what he believed before he slid into his seat. Even the immediate bite into his food wasn't strong enough to soften the blow.

He nearly choked on the chunk of greasy goodness he had torn from his slice, quickly downing the chewed portion. His cheeks were still stuffed with the gooey bread, its density enough to mute the volume of his incoherent reply. Luckily, his eyes did most of the heavy lifting, wide and laser-focused on Lucas.

"Max didn't show again today, so I was gonna go check on her after practice. Catch her up on all the homework she's missed."

At the mention of their Zoomer, Dustin shot a glance to Lucas' left. True enough, there was an empty space, the mere sight twisting his stomach into a knot. He gulped down the mush in his mouth, but abandoned the rest of his meal, letting the mangled pizza slip from his grasp.

"Yeah, no worries. But tell her she has another week to finish Pet Sematary before I need it back, in good condition this time.

His retort was like a pressure release, making the air breathable again as their table beamed with small smiles and dry laughter.

It didn't last long, ending with Mike as the tips of his smirk performed a one-eighty flip. He dipped his head, sneaking a glance toward his shoulder as his fingers pressed into the dark corduroy of his sleeve.

"I'm not going to be able to make it either, man. Turns out "guys night" is also against the fine print of my house arrest.

A snide scoff stormed past the tunnel of his throat. "Doesn't matter if we stayed in the basement, literally right under their noses."

Mike's parents hadn't been so lenient on their son ever since that night they had rushed to meet him at Hawkins Memorial, which wasn't in the pitch he sold them about the week long trip to Toledo for Will's birthday. They knew about his tour around the art museum with his friends, and that Nancy had tagged along to make sure he behaved himself, but he left out the part about how he ended up in a hospital bed.

They had asked a billion questions, but Mike was too exhausted, mentally and physically, to give them straight answers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't explain the monsters he had been fighting or how their chief of police was still alive. None of them could without questioning what remained of their sanity. Dustin understood, even sympathized. He was interrogated too and grounded once the dust had settled, everyone was. But a part of him couldn't help but question if there was something else to his absence.

Lately, Mike had only ever shown a visible interest in Eleven, which was ironic because seeing her was one of the most heinous crimes he could commit. However, no matter how hard the chains of his parents' rule book pulled on him, he'd pull back ten times harder.

Next to Max, he was the most pigheaded person Dustin knew: two double-edged swords for friends. He never complained, and yet he hadn't decided whether their stubbornness was worth the migraine-inducing repercussions.

"We'll just do something on your birthday. They can't stay mad forever," he dismissed with a shrug, his features cool and relaxed despite the storm of thoughts raging inside his head.

Loud, angry words, slicing him deeper with each vulgar obscenity.

It was a wonder he could hear Will, but he had wished the voices in his head were louder than his attempt to mediate.

"Can't we just reschedule? I mean… I know we agreed on today, but I'd just rather wait until we could all be together. So no one feels left out, y'know?"

For a moment, Dustin was dead silent, his gaze downcast. But then he lifted his head, his mouth tugging into an all too tight grin.

"Yeah, good point. I should probably study this weekend anyways, my history exam's gonna be brutal on Monday."

Thankfully, the sound of the bell tolling throughout the school had finally reached the cafeteria, canceling out what would have been a suffocating end. Lucas and Mike were the first to leave the table, uttering their quick goodbyes before rising from their seats with their trays in hand. Will was next, though his umber irises trailed a step behind, pinched as they scanned over Dustin's mask. It fell as soon as he was the last one left, heaving a sigh into his tray before he dragged himself to the trash bin.

The rest of the school day was uneventful, blurring by too fast under the influence of his zapped mood. Even after the arrival of his most prized after-school activity: robotics club. His tinkering was usually enough to recharge his drained battery, usually.

But not today, of all freaking days. Boy was he in need of a pick me up.

Good thing Steve was his ride home.

"— And so, I ask for her number, right? And Robin gives me this look, y'know? That real judgey stare girls always give you when they don't know if they want to hit you or laugh at you."

Oh, Dustin knew that look all too well, and it came with blazing red hair, eyes as blue as the sea, and a mouth that was just as foul as his, if not more. But he didn't voice the association, or anything at all, and it didn't take long for Steve to notice.

He took his focus off the road for a second, the wide grin fading from his face as he caught a glimpse at the passenger seat. Specifically, the slumped head of unruly, bronze fuzz.

"Ok, what's wrong? This is the first time I've ever heard you notspeak and it's freaky. Like… mind-flayed freaky."

"Maybe that's a good thing. Mrs. Walker says I have a big mouth."

Steve lunged over his armrest, his hand flying from the wheel to flick at the thin cartilage of Dustin's ear.

He sneered, missing the offending limb a second late as his fingers cut through nothing but warm air.

"Fine, you wanna know what's wrong? High school sucks major ass! You get piles of homework that they expect you to finish in a day, sticking up for yourself is the equivalent of social suicide, and you barely have any semblance of friendships left by the time you graduate!"

A cackle wheezed its way into Dustin's ear - escalating to a full blown giggle - and he huffed, launching his signature snapback over his head.

"OK- OK..."

Steve's chortling died to a slow exhale.

"Look D, I get it, alright? I was in high school once too, remember?"

"King Steve, who could forget."

"You won't, 'cuz I'll never let you," he retorted, another breath leaving his lips. "Getting older, it never gets easier. Little by little, your free time disappears until it doesn't exist at all. And if you don't have at least one thing figured out, like me, the universe won't pull any punches."

Dustin frowned, poking his head out from the headrest of his seat. He scanned along the pearl vinyl flooring of the Fleetwood, hopping from a pair of skewed Vans to the scattered t-shirts and blue jeans. They roamed over the stockpile of greasy, forgotten take-out bags before finally locating his cap, the shape of its crimson crown inverted between the sable cushions of the sofa.

"But you're not me! You're different, a freaking genius," Steve continued, his smile wide enough to test the elasticity of his lips.

"You're gonna run the world someday, regardless of whether your friends stick around to see it happen. But that day isn't today, or tomorrow or any time soon, so savor every moment. Even if you gotta make 'em alone."

"Maybe," Dustin hesitated, his thick, dark eyebrows inching together as he relaxed against the firm leather. "But what good is being a king if you're ruling a kingdom by yourself? I don't want to be alone."

For a beat, the only sound that could be heard was the hum of the engine and the radio as Steve drove, his eyes frozen on the street lights as he pulled up to a turn on Sherman Hill. Seconds into their wait for the bright flash of green, he finally spoke.

"Then you won't be. Every king needs a royal bodyguard, especially one with a spiked bat."

"I'll be sure to hire you if Mike outgrows his Paladin role. You'd give him a run for his money." Dustin flashed his pearls, a redolent twinkle in his aquamarine irises.

Steve grinned, tipping the crest of his coiffed locks to the velvety underside of the roof. "Ha! Yeah, in your dreams Henderson."

Despite the feigned wetness to his eyes and exaggerated scowl, Dustin's shoulders shook to the tremors of his guffawing. It was an uproarious sound, melodizing with the tune of fading laughter and David Bowie's guttural chorus screeching through the stereo's speakers.

...

That evening…

...

Will glared at his worksheet, his eyes running along the line of the equation for what he guessed was the fifth time. Math was neither his strong nor weak suit, he was merely average. His ability to comprehend a problem and solve it depended on many factors, one being his level of concentration. It was high on his decent days, which had been occurring a lot more since he settled back into Hawkins. Today was one of those days - or at least it had started out that way - and his focus had a full tank by the time he arrived at school.

Then lunch came in a flaming hot nuke, incinerating a third of what little time he had to spend with his friends. He saw it coming as quickly as he and the boys had picked a day. However, that dull, pulsating ache didn't compare to what he felt when he departed from the cafeteria. His heart had filled with a heaviness - a crushing weight great enough to leave a mark. Only guilt could pair that imprint with a lingering sting, enduring time itself and the memory of his senescent brain.

He had every reason to feel ashamed because he was in Dustin's position once. He fought to preserve their friendship from the unpredictable curveballs life had thrown their way, while also taking the blows from his own. But Mike had been right last summer.

No matter how much his words burned, they weren't kids anymore.

Will lost his childhood the second he was snatched into the Upside Down. He was juggling his trauma from the past while also trying to sketch a future for himself. And Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were all in it - even Eleven and Max.

They were all growing up, but that didn't mean they had to outgrow each other.

…

Right?

"Special delivery for Zombie-Boy."

Will turned to his right, his whole upper body moving with his head as he met a pair of warm eyes with a shade akin to his own.

Jonathan filled the space between the door's frame. He didn't make a move to enter, brandishing a plate through the threshold and into the soft light, its elevation halting right above his abdomen.

"You missed dinner, so I brought you some leftovers."

"Oh, crap," Will murmured, glancing at the vivid green numbers of his clock. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

Jonathan rejected the apology with a quick shake of his head, finally taking a step into the room.

"It's fine, you didn't miss much. Just Mom and Hopper being… anything but subtle."

Will blocked out the sweetly, spicy odor as it breached his defenses, his features twisting into a grimace.

"Just- just set it over there. I'll eat when I stop seeing two of everything."

Jonathan stifled a snort, his lips curling upward as he shuffled to where Will's curved appendage had extended. He stopped in front of the desk, brushing the binder and box of colored pencils aside before sliding the plate onto the mahogany tabletop.

"That stuff won't be so gross once you start dating," he assured, swiveling to the bed.

The mere thought of swapping globs of germ-infused spit made Will want to hurl, but he swallowed the urge as it rose to the back of his throat. Rather than offering a retort to the rash assumption, he made room for his brother to join him, shoving his homework to the side.

"I mean, if you ever start dating. I know it's not for everyone."

Another beat passed before Will spoke, though his gaze was trained on his crossed legs.

"I don't think it's that. I mean… I've had crushes. And there were times when I wanted them to, y'know, be something more," he sputtered, tugging at the hem of his pant leg. "But it always goes away when I think about getting… too close. Like, I'm scared but also kinda disgusted at the same time?"

His eyes finally darted to his big brother, who gave him a small, yet fortifying smile.

"It doesn't matter anyways. So much has happened- so much is happening. I can't worry about that right now."

Jonathan nodded, bracing his strength on one knee as he moved from the edge, centering his position on the mattress. He mirrored his brother's stature, but put his own spin on the way his legs overlapped across the duvet. Once he was comfortable, he shattered the quiet with his words. They were sharp despite the great tenderness in his weak tenor.

"What are you worried about?"

Will froze, his fidgeting ceasing along with his breathing.

He had already known the answer, but took the time to consider his words carefully, the fine hairs above his eyes crinkling in a deep furrow. It was always so easy, talking with Jonathan. He was kind and respectful of his comfort level, never pushing him to be anyone but himself. He was a good brother and even greater male role model, way better than their deadbeat of a father.

Still, those malevolent insecurities were a stumbling block. Always clotting his words before he even had the chance to regain his voice. He'd cross the bridge eventually, that was what mattered, but there was this lingering feeling afterwards. A freezing cold chill jolting through his nerves, just as all the moments he sensed that shadow lurking behind the blind spots of his sight.

His shadow, prowling around the corner just before he charged into the light for another attack.

"Are you still having nightmares?" Jonathan asked this time, finally obliterating the obstacle in Will's path.

"No. I mean- Yeah, I still get them. But it's not about that," he objected, shaking his head. "You know how I was supposed to meet up with the guys tonight?"

He received a nod in response, signaling for him to proceed.

"Well, we decided to reschedule since Lucas and Mike couldn't make it. I could've gone, I was just gonna do this tomorrow."

Will gestured to his homework, his fingers hovering over the dry, tainted paper.

"But I had this feeling and I just... whatelse was I supposedto say? It's not like we'll still be friends after high school. Not like we used to..."

Jonathan parted his lips, but the words never rose from his throat, and he was forced to seal them back together.

Change was an unpredictable storm, a common knowledge held all across the world. But it wasn't just a fact to Jonathan, some concept he had heard about as a boy. He experienced them firsthand, and though they were horrifying, they never held a candle to the night his little brother went missing. Suddenly, those turbulent tornadoes and cyclones had mixed with water, submerging him inside a suffocating hurricane.

Somehow, Jonathan hadn't drowned, even after the countless times the waves washed over his head. Horrible, completely unimaginable events changed his life, and he had undergone several attacks. Both mental and physical. Yet, as he neared the aftershock, he wasn't so sure about it all being bad in retrospect.

He was traumatized and more paranoid of his surroundings. However, he had also worked hard enough to get into NYU, his dream school. And he was close with Will and their mother. Closer than he had ever been with them, and he had gained new friends.

Even his first official girlfriend of all things.

No matter how high the ocean rose, its waves would always rush back to earth.

"We aren't the same kids we were three years ago," Jonathan acknowledged, bending a little as he tilted his head. "Our relationship is different too, but we're still brothers. What happened to you didn't change it, and neither will me moving to New York."

"That's not the same thing. We were raised in the same house, I've known you my entire life."

"But would much really change if we weren't related? What if Mike, Dustin, or Lucas was your brother instead of me? You've known them forever too."

The lines of Will's mouth had pressed together while he held his brother's stare. Though, their imprint melted away when he bowed his head, leaving only a small trace of a frown.

"Hey, I'm not saying it's gonna be easy. I still have to work twice as hard on me and Nancy even if she's coming with me. It'll be worth it though, because I want her in my life."

Jonathan beamed, prodding the base of his knee with a light kick.

"And I know you want them in yours."

Will chewed on the inside of his lip, his eyes flitting from his lap to bore into his brother's umber irises. They were warm and soft as they stared back, but it was the smile - twinkling with affability as brilliant as a star - stirring the upturn of his own mouth.

Quick, yet light thumps filled the room, followed by a not so soft knock. Both boys turned to the door, landing on a crestfallen Eleven and the upended Polaroid in her hands.

"I was taking pictures, but it stopped working before I could get one with those glowing bugs. Now they're gone," she bleated, a soft plea laced within her warm, gleaming irises.

Jonathan shared a cheeky glance with Will, his brows reaching the sky before falling to their former pose above the hoods of his eyes.

"Well, I can help you figure out what went wrong so you can try it tomorrow. That way you'll know what to do if it happens again," he offered, shooting her a slack grin. "Andyou can make it in time to catch the fireflies. Promise."

Eleven's features brightened at his word of assurance, matching his smile with a speedy nod.

The mattress jounced under Jonathan's weight while he stood, clapping a hand over Will's shoulder. Before his view had been completely obstructed by the wall of his brother's back, he caught a glimpse of Eleven as her mouth curved his way. He did his best to mime her within the fleeting time frame, but ditched the expression as soon as the doorway returned to its gaping clearance.

An exhale departed from the vents of his nose before he swiveled to the edge and hopped off the bed. It took him four steps to reach his desk, but he didn't reach for his chair or the food cooling on the tabletop. Rather, he tugged open a drawer, bringing light to the polished plastic of his walkie talkie.

Not much time had passed between now and the last time he heard its static, yet it was different. Since his abduction, Will had only ever used the device to reach his friends. However, everything they discussed only pertained to battle strategies for the Mind Flayer, the Upside Down, and anything else that was a rude reminder of his trauma. He couldn't remember a time when it was used for fun... mind-numbing, utterly ridiculous fun.Trying to even recall a memory proved difficult, and with a narrowed gaze, he finally freed the radio from its prison.

He checked the chamber, making sure the batteries had retained enough juice, then he twisted the knob to the right. The radio buzzed to life, and he allowed its crackling to fill the room while he walked back to his bed. The white noise was short lived, ending right with the turn of his fingers as he turned to channel four.

"Come in Bard, do you copy?"

Static only greeted Will once he released the button, but he held his breath. He waited in spite of his itch to just toss the walkie aside, which had only burned the more the minutes elapsed. Thankfully, the crackles faded into the resonance of insufferable lip-smacking, soothing his blistering wound.

"I copy, Cleric."

Dustin cleared his throat, the sound reverberating to Will's ear in the form of a rushed cough. "... What's up?"

"Nothing really. I was working on homework, but I kept thinking about how much it sucks that we didn't get to hang out tonight."

He smoothed aside a thin, but lank strip of hair as it swept into his vision. "It's still the weekend… And I'm free tomorrow, so you and I could still do something. I can come over, you can catch me up on Dragon Ball-"

"-And we could stop by FV, see what's in the new releases section." Dustin interjected, a flicker of a shit-eating grin in his tone.

"I'll even give you full rights on dibs this time."

"Oh wow, thanks. It would've been nice to have it that time you thought mixing Cannibal Holocaust and Mexican takeout was a good idea, but better late than never."

The bed springs squeaked under Will as he dove in, his exhale ending in a breathless laugh.

More changes would come.

But his Party would weather every last one.

My inspiration has been high lately, so I would like to update this series once a month. But school starts back up soon so we'll see.

Make sure to leave a comment! I love hearing your thoughts!