A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for how late this is. I've been having a hard time and then I was super busy this week, so this chapter is unfortunately very late. It's also a lot longer than the other chapters though so hopefully that makes up for it! I love Stranger Things and I'm so happy that I've found it, but I've been taking a break from it or figure out my fandom a little bit. There are a lot of things that have been going on in my life and they've all become a lot worse in quarantine. I've realized that I've been relying on Stranger Things to the point where it's no longer an escape but another huge stressor. lol I know that sounds weird. I'm hyper aware of how weird that sounds, but I feel like I've transferred all of the bad feelings I was distracting myself from onto the series. I made the mistake recently of reading some fan theories about who might die before the series ends (if anyone at all) and when you find yourself worrying about character deaths for the better part of a day, it's time to take a break. :P

I think I might be able to return to the fandom now so I'm going to start writing chapter 4 and see where that takes me. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Please leave feedback to let me know that you enjoy my work (or maybe you have some con crit, which is cool too). :)

Sunday, May 17, 1987

The night was cool and relatively quiet when Samantha Stone rolled up to Mapleview Apartments. She honked her horn impatiently and checked both her eyeliner and long dark hair for the third time in the overhead mirror. At this rate, she was good for time, possibly even a tad early, but her nerves just wouldn't let her relax. This would be her first time in ages and she was naturally a little anxious. A small ripple of relief finally reached her when Jonathan made his way out of the front sliding doors and over to her passenger side.

"Hey, you're right on schedule," he said after opening the door and sliding in. Usually, as he'd learned in the time since he has met her at Tina's party, his friend wasn't so good with time.

Samantha shrugged, trying to look like she hadn't just been in a mild panic over that night's plans and she was in fact as cool as a cucumber. "Am I? Huh, didn't notice."

Jonathan gave her a raised eyebrow, seeing right through her facade immediately. Samantha released the parking break and started up her Honda, using any excuse she could to avoid meeting her friend's knowing gaze. "Where's Nancy?"

"She couldn't make it," he explained, not wanting to tell Samantha the real reason for his girlfriend's sudden absence. "Her mom needed her for something."

"Aw, that's too bad."

Jonathan nodded in agreement. Really, Nancy was feeling more fatigued than usual for the hour and elected to take a nap instead of going out with their friend. Her worried boyfriend wanted to stay home and look after his girlfriend, but she insisted that he go. Jonathan was an introvert and it took him a while to warm up to new people. This meant that he never really had too many friends and so Nancy always tried her best to support the social relationships he did manage to establish. Sam liked for everyone to think that nothing ever bothered her, but Jonathan could see her distress when she casually (what she thought was casually) asked him to accompany her on a blind date. How would it look if he cancelled on her just hours before the big event? That was just unacceptable, Nancy argued. He had to go even if she couldn't. Besides, Nancy needed all of the alone time she could get to figure out how she was going to tell her boyfriend about her little secret.

Jonathan gave his friend a befuddled look when Sam reached over to nudge his left arm at a stop light. "Jon."

"What?" he asked.

"What'cha got?" she grinned.

He gave her a light chuckle back, knowing exactly what she was asking, and reached into the pocket of his denim jacket for his latest mixtape. "The Ramones."

"Nice," Sam nodded. "Pop it in."

The shiny blue Honda took a left and made its way toward Main Street while blasting Blitzkrieg Bop on the stereo. Sam nodded her head and sang along while Jonathan drummed the beat with his index fingers on the dashboard. Of course, the friends were compelled to call out "Hey! Ho! Let's go!" in unison whenever Joey Ramone did. It seemed illegal not to any time they heard this track. At every other stop light, Jonathan noticed his friend looking into her side mirror once, twice, multiple times and he knew she wasn't just checking the vehicles behind her, so after watching her do this a few times, he reached over to the console and turned the stereo up. Maybe the upbeat tempo would help dispel her insecurity.

The duo made their way down the road and turned onto Horton Park Avenue where the entrance to the newly-rebuilt Starcourt Mall (sans Russian base) was located. Sam parked a little ways outside of entrance 5 just as Howling at the Moon (Sha-La-La) was starting.

"Ready to go?" Jonathan asked, undoing his seat belt.

Sam laughed almost arrogantly. "Bro, I was born ready."

"Hell yeah," he nodded, sensing his friend's nerves.

"I got this."

"You got this."

"I got this, man," she repeated, pushing on the steering wheel for emphasis.

"Oh, it's in the bag," replied Jonathan, continuing to hype her up.

Samantha paused and turned to the young man beside her. "How's my hair?"

"Sam."

"What?"

Jonathan gave his friend a look, both dark eyebrows raised expectantly and his hand resting on the car door. The message was clear, but he said it anyway. "You're overthinking this."

The raven-haired woman sighed and removed her key from the ignition. "Fine, let's go."

Once outside the car, the duo walked across the parking lot and entered the mall between The Gap and Sears. Their destination was Starcourt Bowl, one of the newest attractions built in the resurrected shopping centre and the place where a friend of Sam's told her she would meet her date. Jonathan walked just a step behind Samantha and noticed his friend straightening out the top she had carefully chosen for this day. Even though she looked fine, she just kept on primping. It was like her hands ad developed minds of their own and didn't know what to do with themselves. Jonathan placed a friendly hand on her shoulder when they passed Children's Place and could see the bright neon Starcourt Bowl sign in the distance.

"You ready?" he asked with a reassuring smile.

Samantha nodded, her confident facade finally fading away as she anxiously played with her long hair between her fingers. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Then let's do it."

With that, the two made their way across the upper level food court and crossed the rainbow-coloured threshold into the establishment where Wanna be Startin' Somethin' played over the chatter of other patrons and the occasional knocking of pins. Jonathan looked around briefly and then leaned in closer to his friend.

"Where is she?" he asked. "I don't think you got to tell me who your date was."

"Look for short blonde hair," Samantha replied, trying to look cool as she scanned the crowd.

The young man nodded, his dark eyes darting around to find a woman matching that description when something else caught his gaze. There was a group of tables on the left-hand side of the establishment in an area that looked like a cafe or diner. Almost directly underneath a neon sign that read "Dollar Dogs" there sat someone in a brown leather jacket with an oddly familiar mop of chestnut hair. Their back was turned in Jonathan's direction so he couldn't see their face, but he did see the blonde woman opposite them smile and wave at he and Sam excitedly. Samantha gasped beside him in a way that would only be noticeable to Jonathan.

"That's her!" she exclaimed and she began walking in their direction. Jonathan followed close behind, but he kept his eyes on the person in the leather jacket.

As they approached the table, Jonathan realized that Robin Buckley who worked at Scoops Ahoy a few years ago was in fact Samantha's blind date. Robin stood and opened her arms wide for the other woman.

"Oh my God, you must be Sam!" Robin beamed and held her date briefly to greet her.

"And you must be Robin!" exclaimed Samantha, returning the embrace. "It's so good to finally meet you."

Jonathan put on a friendly smile as he waited for them. He and Robin didn't really need an introduction after the traumatic Starcourt experience they'd shared, but he waited his turn to greet her anyway. He looked down then in the direction of Robin's friend and found Steven J. Harrington looking back up at him from where he was seated. He could tell by the way the other man twitched that the one time king of Hawkins High had been staring at him somewhat awkwardly. It was no secret in high school that these two did not get along. Even before what happened with Nancy, Jonathan was considered a bit of a weirdo by his peers for little reason other than that they just didn't know what to make of him. He was a boy but he was more interested in the arts than he was in anything they expected him to be interested in, namely sports. He was a loner and didn't seem too interested in bending over backwards to make friends, something which even the more unpopular kids found off-putting. Jonathan never really spoke unless he had to and other students only even knew he was around because they felt his presence. They didn't get him and so they thought he was creepy. Then of course, there were the things Jonathan couldn't control too: the old car that looked weird next to the newer models in the student parking lot, the old shoes he wore for way too long because the mortgage always came first, his inability to keep up with all the latest styles and trends because he only really bought new clothes when his old ones were worn. On the other side if the spectrum, Steve was Jonathan's opposite in nearly every way and to high school Steve Harrington, that was very important. Status was something he prized in high school more than anything and if Steve were to be king, he couldn't be associated with outcasts like Jonathan, so he never tried to befriend the quiet, misunderstood boy. He would join in the locker room laughter when Tommy Hagan would tease Jonathan for his performance in gym class. He wouldn't be caught dead sitting at the same lunch table with the guy. It all felt like it was deserved back then. Why couldn't Jonathan just stop being so weird? He never even spoke up to defend himself. Those were days that young adult Steve didn't like looking back on. Listening to Dustin's stories of the kids who mock him made Steve wonder what he and his former friends must have put Jonathan through. It was when he had become involved with the Hawkins Lab saga himself that he began to see his schoolmate in a completely different light. Steve was wrong before and he knew it. He tried to make it right one Christmas. He even got out of the way when it was clear that Nancy had developed much stronger feelings for Jonathan than she'd ever had for him. After these experiences, it seemed as if the two men had a mutual respect for one another, but they never quite became friends. There was just a lot of unresolved history that made things so awkward, but now as they acknowledged each other with a slight nod, they both realized that they had to face each other to support their friends. Something would have to give.

When she was finished with Sam, Robin turned her attention to Jonathan.

"Byers! I didn't know you two were friends," said Robin with a grin. "What's up, man?"

The young man shrugged. "Not much," he replied, he and Steve both trying to avoid each other's eyes as the latter stood from his seat. Neither of the women seemed to notice as they began to make their way over to get their bowling shoes, leaving the guys standing awkwardly next to each other. Trying to be friendly, it was Steve who broke the silence first.

"Shall we?" he asked, sticking his hands into the pockets of his Danier jacket.

Jonathan inhaled and tried to match Steve's efforts. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

Friday, May 15, 1987

El stared at the paper in her hands like if she glared hard enough, the thing would catch fire. Too bad that wasn't an ability in her psychokinetic arsenal. She made her way down the hall to her locker and twisted the combination lock until the door swung open, empty boxes of Eggo waffles she had hoarded spewing out onto the floor.

"Fuck," she grumbled under her breath and went to work picking them up. She had been meaning to get rid of those. Just then, the bell marking the end of third period rang, causing El to curse again. The hall was quickly flooding with students eager to eat their lunch and her Eggo boxes still littered the floor. She could hear laughter to her right and glanced up to see Stacey Albright and her friends standing just a ways away, giggling and whispering as they openly watched her fumble with the boxes. El scowled. How she wished she could use her powers to cause some form of light misfortune to befall those girls, but Hopper had made her promise that she would keep a low cover now that she was out and about in the world. El was about to return to the task when she heard another voice coming from her left side.

"Mind if I help you?"

She looked up to see a familiar face bending over one of her boxes to pick it up. It was a boy with whom she shared English literature, if she remembered correctly. His bronze face was framed by soft black tresses which ended in a slight curl. His features indicated his Mexican origins, or so she assumed (El still wasn't very good at identifying race). The boy's playful dark eyes seemed to be smiling at her as much as his lips were when he parted them to ask her a question. "So, you uh, like Eggos?"

El nodded, finally picking up the last box and taking the bunch in her arms to the garbage can. "Yeah."

"So do I," the boy chuckled awkwardly, discarding his own bunch into the trash after her. He held out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Enrique, by the way."

"E-" she was about to say her old name by accident – the one that only her closest allies called her – but she adjusted herself just in time before taking his hand. "Jane."

"Cool," Enrique smiled again to mask the butterflies in his stomach. "Well, it's nice to actually meet you, Jane."

"We have English lit together," El stated in that plain sort of way that she used when stating a simple fact.

"Well yeah," Enrique admitted. "But this is the first time we've gotten to talk, you know?"

That was when El noticed despite herself how pleasant Enrique's face was to look at. She could not see behind her, but Stacey Albright was fuming as she and her friends turned and left for the cafeteria. Enrique stood there before her, looking as if he wanted to say something else, but he couldn't quite get it out. She couldn't understand why he seemed to be having to much trouble but then it was suddenly incredibly difficult for her to speak too.

"So um," he started finally.

Just as soon as she noticed that he was still holding her hand, El could hear Lucas and Dustin's voices getting louder as they and the rest of the party made their way down the hall. El pulled her hand back at the thought of Mike seeing her there, staring at Enrique's pretty face for far too long. As if he could sense his opportunity slipping, the boy's mind raced for something else to say.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to study together sometime?" he blurted out, and just as soon as he did, he realized how weird that was to ask if he had supposedly just met her then. "Sorry, what I mean to say is–"

Eleven shifted stiffly and let out a surprised little gasp when she felt an arm over her shoulders. She looked up to see Mike seeming to be coming in for a kiss.

"Hey," he said, greeting her with a peck on the lips. The kiss was longer than one might expect for a simple salutation and he held her slightly closer than usual. Enrique deflated a little despite the fact that he was still smiling.

When Mike finally broke from her, El couldn't help but smile back at him. "Hey there," she giggled.

As their friends gathered around them (Dustin and Lucas continuing to have their argument revolving around the ranking of the Star Wars movies), El noticed a group of boys just a little further down the hall from them.

"Hey, Enrique!" called the one she recognized as Greg McCorkle. Enrique turned at the sound of his name being called. Some of the teenage boys were just monkeying around, pushing each other about and laughing about one thing or another, while three of them were looking at him expectantly.

"Come on, man, let's go!" one of them said impatiently.

The bronze-skinned boy turned back to El and waved as he made his getaway, Mike's sharpened eyes following his every step. "See you tomorrow, Jane!"

Will tried to come between Dustin and Lucas (at least they could all agree on where The Empire Strikes Back placed on the list) while Max's eyes darted between Enrique's retreating back and her other two friends. She had noticed the new boy stealing glances at El in English class and didn't think too much of it. Sure, Max would tease El about it sometimes when the boys weren't around (after all, Enrique was a cutie) but El was dating Mike so there really wasn't much to else to discuss. The boisterous personality that Enrique displayed toward other boys tended to evaporate when it came to the telekinetic girl so Max figured that his interest in her friend would only amount to staring longingly at her back from a few seats over, but now he had taken it upon himself to talk to her outside of class. Max looked at Mike who was returning to the group with El's hand in his. He seemed just as chipper as he always was around lunchtime, but the way he went out of his way to be more affectionate than usual told Max that she wasn't the only one who had noticed something strange.

By the time the friends had finally gotten to the lunch table after shuffling through the lunchtime lineup, the Star Wars argument had subsided and the group had secured an area that was mostly secluded from their peers at one lunch table in the northeast corner. They did this deliberately; sometimes to avoid students wishing to harass them (although this happened less often when they were together like this), sometimes just to be able to express themselves and their interests without the judgment of others, but it was mostly a subconscious effort to make their space a little safer. Life was peaceful for the most part, but like most who have undergone a traumatic experience, none in the group was without their scars. It was therapeutic to them to be able to confide in each other, so the friends went out of their way to create little spaces where they could do so uninterrupted. Mike's basement was the original hub, so to speak, with the now Byers-Hopper residence acting as a secondary headquarters, but there were other places as well. Any uninhabited area on the Hawkins High campus would do in a pinch and certain forested areas still felt safe in the daytime at least (after all, even though so much had happened there, it was where these kids spent a lot of time growing up). Really any place where her friends were seemed like a good place for El to be honest about anything, including the mysterious girl in her dreams.

"I'm going to try contacting her tonight," El announced to the group in a low whisper.

"Do you even know who she is?" asked Lucas, still a little confused about the situation.

El shook her head.

"I thought you had to know who the person was in order to reach them," remarked Dustin.

"Not exactly," El continued, remembering when she had made contact with the woman who ended up being her mother. "I just need a clear picture of them in my mind."

"But you've never actually seen her face," said Lucas, Max deep in thought beside him.

El deflated a bit. She knew it was a long shot, but she felt she had to try something. "I know."

"Well, do you want to try it at my place?" Mike asked, squeezing her shoulder in his hand. "If anything happens, we'll all be there at least."

The girl smiled warmly at her boyfriend and nodded. Her life had never been easy, but she considered herself lucky to have somehow found people who genuinely cared for her safety and happiness.

Sunday, May 17, 1987

Robin threw her hands up above her head and gave a triumphant shout as the pins each fell on their sides at the end of the lane. She turned back to her companions as Steve tallied up the points. So far, Robin was winning (by a mile), Steve was coming in second, Jonathan took up third (he and his family rarely went to places like the bowling alley), and poor Samantha was sitting pretty in last place. Despite this, she still applauded her date and slid out of her seat to go next.

"Oh, strike!" hollered Steve.

"Watch out, guys!" Samantha laughed as Robin approached, taking a very light-hearted perspective on her definite loss. She was still having fun and that was all that mattered. "I've got a gutter ball with my name on it."

"Hey, come on," the blonde responded, taking Sam by her hands. "I'll show you how it's done."

Samantha grabbed a red ball from the queue and took her position, Robin giving her a few pointers on her stance and situating herself a little closer than just a friendly distance away. Even without doing anything that could be rated any higher than PG, she managed to be surprisingly flirty, perhaps without even trying, and Samantha was revelling in the attention. Jonathan sat back with Steve, the air between them slightly tense, but he was happy enough that his friend was enjoying herself and to be honest, he was having a little bit of fun too. As We Built This City played on the stereo, he absently drummed his fingers on the table, something Jonathan often did when idle. Steve shifted awkwardly, occasionally glancing at Jonathan's restless hands. He couldn't take it. He was an extrovert and silence made him nervous. He had to try to break the ice.

"So uh," Steve started. "You play the drums?"

"Hm?" Jonathan hummed.

"The drums," said Steve and then he pointed at Jonathan's fingers. "I noticed you're uh..."

"Oh, no," the other man explained. Learning how to play was an idea that had crossed his mind once or twice, but he didn't even want to think of how expensive a full drum set would have been. "No, I don't. I just... do this. Sometimes."

"Oh, okay," Steve nodded slowly. "Cool..."

The ice was much thicker than Steve had thought.

Once the group was finished with their game, the women wanted to walk down Main Street and the men hesitantly obliged. The date had been going so well for their friends that neither of them had the heart to cut it short. They would just have to stew in each other's presence until the end of the night. The men kept their distance behind the couple to give them some space and only a comment or two about random things passed between them; "there's that new tea place" this and "hey, watch your step" that. It wasn't until they noticed the two women had stopped that either of them really started speaking again.

"What's up?" asked Steve and he looked in the direction that Robin and Samantha were looking in. Jonathan looked up too and saw big neon lights over a shop window giving a view inside of a bright and colourfully lit bar. The loud music could be heard over the silence of the night air and there was an overall jovial feeling which came from the refurbished two-story building. Two rather intoxicated looking men were doing a duet at the karaoke machine in the corner while the other patrons cheered and sang along, a surprisingly captive audience for the two amateur singers. Or maybe they were just wasted.

"Yoshi's Karaoke," Steve read, eyebrows high on his face.

"Guys, let's go in!" Samantha suggested, nearly jumping with excitement. Her enthusiasm was worlds away from the nervousness she'd felt at the beginning of the evening, Jonathan noticed happily. Arm in arm, she pulled the blonde woman in after her.

"Oh, I don't know," Robin protested, but she was putting up a rather weak fight against her date.

"C'mon, it'll be fun!"

Before the group knew it, Samantha had successfully secured one of the private rooms in the back of the establishment, complete with its own disco ball, karaoke machine and a waiter who would pop in periodically. She wasn't opposed to paying for most of this surprise outing herself. Jonathan excused himself to the rest room while the others got seated and when he came back, they had already ordered a round of drinks, a tall glass of decorated iced tea sitting on the table in front of the spare seat which Jonathan presumed was for him. Samantha was perusing the playlist and trying to convince either Robin or Steve to sing with her when Jonathan sat down.

"How about some Queen?" she asked, pointing somewhere on the selection list. "They've got We Will Rock You. We should all be able to sing along to that!"

"I wouldn't mind some Queen," Steve shrugged, sipping on a cold glass of Corona.

"Robin, come with me!" Samantha urged, taking her date's hand.

Robin looked a little shy, something Jonathan didn't think he'd ever seen before. "You know, Sam, I would love to but I really can't sing."

Samantha grinned and leaned in close. "Then I'll teach you, just like how you taught me to bowl."

The blonde paused for a moment, considering the offer. Steve leaned forward slightly and then began banging his hands on the table and chanting, "Do it, do it!"

He progressively got louder and looked to Jonathan for help. The other man didn't beat the table, but he did chant along quietly. Robin laughed at them both before conceding.

"Fine! I'll do it, ya knuckleheads."

Samantha took Robin's hand and bounced away to input the song. As it turned out, Sam was a very good singer and Robin, being more of a novice, opted to make up for it by acting more like Freddie Mercury rather than singing. Her date danced along with her and Steve cheered from the side while Jonathan gulped his iced tea. He figured that during that outing, he would be doing a lot of sidelines support. They couldn't have had music he actually listened to on that playlist, plus the idea of having to get up and sing for everyone just sounded way too embarrassing.

As the night went on, Robin, Steve, and Sam had all had their turn singing. Robin ordered everyone a round of shots and Jonathan, not wanting to come off like a wet blanket, downed two in a row, much to the amazement of the group. He inhaled deeply and shook his head, the alcohol stinging his throat as it sank down into his stomach. Clearly, he'd underestimated its power, so Jonathan retreated back to the comfort of a second cold iced tea.

"Yeah, boy!" cheered Samantha.

"Damn, dude!" Steve laughed, feeling a little more comfortable about Jonathan now that he was beginning to loosen up. "Just chuggin' it back!"

The dark haired man made a face at the burning sensation in his core and brought the tea to his lips again. "I shouldn't have done that."

The other table members laughed.

"Hitcha harder than you thought it would?" Robin asked.

"Ah, fuck," Jonathan cursed, then chuckled. "I don't even really drink like that."

"No problem, man," said Samantha, patting his back. "I'm driving. You have fun!"

"I'm just a little tipsy," her friend shrugged. Actually, he didn't feel all that different from when they'd first started the night.

"Bro, you've had like two of those iced teas and you just said you don't really drink," replied Robin. "Meaning that I doubt you have a high tolerance at all."

Jonathan's brows furrowed. "Wait, do these have alcohol in them?"

Robin nodded slowly, a grin still on her face. "Yeah. Did you not know that it was a Long Island Iced Tea?"

"No..."

"Oh shit," said Steve, looking at Robin and Sam. "We must have forgotten to tell him."

"Sorry, Jon!" Sam said, looking apologetic. "I thought you knew for some reason. I must have just gotten too excited with karaoke to tell you."

"No, it's fine," Jonathan assured the group. "I don't even feel that drunk."

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, giving her a comforting smile. "Anyway, I'll be back. I'm gonna go to the washroom."

Then as Jonathan got up, it suddenly hit him. He paused for a while until the Earth stopped moving beneath him, his hand still holding onto the table to keep him steady. "Oh."

"What?" asked Steve.

"Shit."

"You just got it, didn't you?" asked Robin, trying not to laugh at his slight sway.

Jonathan nodded a little too quickly. The world was still spinning slowly.

"Steve, do you maybe wanna, uh," Robin began to inquire, jerking her head in Jonathan's direction.

Steve suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, unsure about what she might be implying. "Do I wanna what?"

"Just like, help him walk to the bathroom?" she asked.

"I would do it," Samantha jumped in. "But you know," she shrugged. "I'm a woman, so..."

Steve's shoulders dropped. Jonathan was too busy trying to stand still to pay too much attention to what they were saying. With a sigh, Steve stood up and got beside the unsteady man.

"Alright, buddy," he said as he swung one of Jonathan's arms over his shoulders. "I'll take you there, but I am not holding your dick for you."

"The fuck?" Jonathan asked, not fully understanding what was going on. The alcoholic haze was just starting to fall over him, but he soon wouldn't be the only one.

Before long, all four of them were considerably more jolly than they had been. Samantha and Robin kept their drinking to a minimum since they were each designated drivers, but Steve was having the time of his life dancing around in his cheap sunglasses and belting out "Whoa, livin' on a prayer!" as loud as he could. Jonathan was on his fourth or fifth iced tea (turns out he's highly suggestible while drunk and Samantha said she would buy him as many as he wanted as long as he would perform at some point). He couldn't believe how good of a time he was having watching the others' antics and clapping along to their progressively more terrible sounding singing. While Sam and Robin cheered the wannabe vocalist on beside him, Jonathan suddenly found it incredibly hilarious how Steve was carrying on, nearly stumbling over himself while slurring out Bon Jovi and trying to look like a glam metal rock star. It was so funny, in fact, that it made him laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more. And snort. He couldn't stop himself from snorting every time he managed to inhale between howls and the whole room began to notice. And that only made his laughter raise in pitch, thus making the snorting worse.

"Oh my God!" cried Robin, pointing at Jonathan in his giggle fit. "You snort when you laugh!"

Normally, Jonathan would have been embarrassed by this revelation. It was something about him that only Nancy and his family knew: when you manage to get Jonathan into a fit of giggles, he snorts uncontrollably. Nancy thought it was adorable and would take every opportunity to send him into hysterics on purpose (tickling his ribs worked if jokes wouldn't), but besides that small group, he tried not to do it in front of anyone else. However as he sat there, the tips of his ears, cheeks and nose turning red, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, laughter made effervescent by Long Island Iced Teas bubbling out of his chest, and Steve doing some weird pelvic thrusts during an instrumental portion of the song (which he definitely did just to get Jonathan going), he just didn't care as much as he normally would. His only form of protest was to clasp his hand over his mouth in a feeble attempt to stop the noise from coming out, but it barely made a difference and now his companions were laughing right along with him. Steve could barely even finish the key change without sputtering into hysterics. When the music ended, the audience of three was applauding, hooting and hollering "Encore!" while Steve tried not to sway too much giving a bow.

"Thank you, thank you!" he called to them. "Thank you, Hawkins! You're too kind!"

"Jon!" Sam called out and touched her friend's arm across the table. "You gotta sing for us!"

"Whaaa?" he slurred, letting his head fall back onto the tip of his seat and his hair fall messily about his face as his chuckling finally began to subside. "No, c'mooon."

"You promised," she grinned, slyly handing him the song selection.

"You did say you would," Robin added with a wink.

Jonathan groaned in response and perused the menu, then seemed surprised. "Oh shit, they got tha Clash!"

Steve jumped off the stage and was suddenly beside him, a surprisingly agile feat for someone who was just trying not to fall down while dancing. "Holy fuck, I didn't know they had the Clash!"

For a second time, Jonathan was surprised. "You listen to 'em?"

"Yeah, dude!" Steve replied. What Jonathan hadn't known was that Steve actually got into the Clash in middle school around the same time he did, but unlike him, Steve was always very conscious of his image and thus, he kept many of his interests secret unless they coincided with the current trends. But now that he was an adult, being considered cool by his peers just wasn't that important anymore. Without hesitation, Steve pointed at an entry in the selection. "Bro, do this one with me."

Sam sat back with her arm around Robin's shoulders while the two men stumbled up onto the stage and punched the numbers into the karaoke machine. If someone had told her beforehand that loner Jonathan Byers and King Steve Harrington from high school would have ended that night drunkenly wrapping an arm over each other's shoulders for stability and shouting Rock the Casbah into microphones, she would have told them to stop huffing paint. But somehow, that was exactly what happened. Metaphorically, the ice had finally melted and all it took was a little too much alcohol in the blood.

Later, the four of them were back on Main Street, the women trying to keep the men from tripping over their own feet while they just kept on singing the Clash and erupting into laughter.

"Alright boys," Robin sighed, dragging Steve down the street, who was still wearing his shades even though it was nighttime. "Both of you need a long nap."

"Yup," Sam agreed as she pulled Jonathan away from a pole he'd started drumming the beat of Straight to Hell on while muttering the lyrics. "I hope Nancy doesn't kill us both."

When they finally reached entrance 5, the ladies exchanged numbers, shared a sweet goodnight kiss (to which Steve hooted in support like the bro he was while Jonathan opted for applause instead), and went their separate ways across the parking lot, stuffing their friends into each of their respective cars to make the journey home. As Sam made her way back down Horton Park Avenue, Jonathan had become incredibly chatty beside her.

"Sam," he called even though she was right beside him. "Sam. Saaaam."

"What?" his friend chuckled slightly.

"D'ya think if I asked Nancy to marry me, she'd say yes?" Jonathan slurred. "I think she would but maybe nah..."

"I mean, I would assume so? But I don't know."

"Can you ask 'er for me? And then, if she says yes, then you tell me and then I'll propose and you can be the..." the drunken man paused to think. "Whassit called? The maid of something... The Iron Maiden... Made of Iron... You can be the iron maiden, Sam."

"I'm not gonna ask Nancy to marry you," Samantha laughed and shook her head at his silly plan. "And you're not either – not while you're drunk like this. Who wants a drunk guy proposing to them?"

"Aw, dammit!" the young man lamented, covering his face with his hands. "Why'd I get so wasted?"

"I think you need a nap."

Nancy breathed in deeply, letting the air out slowly in an attempt to calm herself. She could do this. She was completely capable. She had overcome far worse in the past. She shot firecrackers at a giant otherworldly spider monster for Christ's sake! All she had to do was tell Jonathan the truth. It really couldn't be that difficult. Nancy stared into the bedroom mirror as she recited her planned confession once again in her head. She held the Planned Parenthood brochure in one shaking hand and tried not to think about the horrible consequences of what should happen if they disagree on their next course of action. Whatever happens tonight, you can handle it, she thought. Nancy closed her eyes, trying to think of the huge bowl of tapioca pudding she would make for herself if all went well when she heard the familiar jingle of Jonathan's keys at the door. With one last look a herself in the mirror, she whispered "Showtime," and made her way down the hall, trying to look as casual as she could.

"Hey, babe, how was the d-"

When Nancy finally made it to the doorway, she was expecting a few things. She was expecting Jonathan to be there, and of course he was, but she thought she would catch him taking off his coat to put on the rack before approaching to greet her with a soft peck on the lips as he always did (he was more gentle with his kisses than some of her previous boyfriends). She thought he might be a little tired from his excursion as he was an introvert and sometimes flexing his underused social muscles left him without a whole lot of energy left. She figured he would want to take a warm shower before joining her on the couch, embracing her in his arms and resting his head on her shoulder as he often did, barely staying awake after about 5 minutes, and somewhere during that time, Nancy would pluck up the courage to finally tell him just like she'd rehearsed in the mirror. When she rounded that corner and saw her boyfriend being partially propped up by Samantha, she knew things weren't about to go exactly according to plan.

"Hey, Nancy," Sam said, sounding a little bit guilty for bringing Jonathan home like this.

"Jonathan?" she called in slight disbelief at his state.

The aforementioned man looked up from his clumsily discarded shoes and a big, childish grin overtook his features. It was a look she remembered Dustin giving her a lot back when he had a crush on her: the almost glittering gaze of a young boy regarding an older girl with a mix of limerence and awe. "Oh my God, Nancy!" he exclaimed, seeming pleasantly surprised that she was standing in front of him in an apartment they both inhabited.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Whaaa?" Jonathan immediately looked at Sam as if he'd been betrayed. "Sam! Didjou tell Nancy I got drunk?!" And then he whispered loudly, "I toldja not to tell her!"

"Oh, it's obvious, you big dope," replied Samantha, rolling her eyes.

Nancy sighed. "You've got work tomorrow. You're gonna be so hungover..."

Realization flooded Sam's features and then guilt. "Oh shit! That's right, it's Monday! Ugh, now I feel bad. We were just having too much fun."

"It's alright, Sam," Nancy flashed her a smile. "Sounds like your date went well."

Samantha smiled bashfully. "I'll call you and tell you all about it. I gotta get home now."

The couple said their goodbyes to their friend, Nancy turned to her boyfriend, who seemed to have regained his balance somewhat.

"What am I gonna do with you?" she sighed, her arms folded over her chest as she shook her head at him.

"Are you mad?" he asked innocently in a way that made her heart swell.

"No, I'm not mad." How could she be when he was flashing her those brown puppy dog eyes?

His smile returned as he made his way over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. Nancy smiled and let her arms rest over his shoulders, noting with some amusement that even though he'd been out that night, he still smelled good like the eucalyptus mint cologne he liked buying when the budget allowed. In high school, Jonathan never had the trendiest or newest looking clothes and sometimes it was more obvious than others that he cut his own hair (with Joyce's help), but one thing she couldn't help but notice about him back then was that he was always so clean. She was so used to the jocks she'd had crushes on and the way they smelled just after practice that Jonathan's scent seemed to stand out (although she would have never admitted that to anyone at the time). Once, when they were standing in line to get into the cafeteria, Barb had noticed her sneaking a whiff and just gave Nancy a knowing look when she realized she'd been caught. Looking back, Nancy thought Barb had a feeling that Jonathan was more than what everyone assumed he was and that the two of them could potentially make a good couple (God rest her soul).

Nancy stood there in Jonathan's arms, enjoying the feeling of his body against hers, until a sudden movement toward her neck followed by a trail of slightly sloppier kisses than usual made her breath hitch involuntarily. Jonathan hummed against her as his hands moved down her back to cup her little butt, squeezing gently. Nancy giggled at him.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she asked with fake indignation, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"Babe, take your clothes off," her boyfriend whispered, the alcohol left in his system making him far less subtle than usual.

Still smiling, she gently began to push him off of her. Nancy still wasn't sure how she could maneuver this situation back to what she had planned on, but she was definitely going to try. She didn't like the idea of having sex with him while he was intoxicated anyway. "Babe, come on..."

"Wait," he said, suddenly stepping away from her. "No."

"What?"

"I'm gonna take a shower."

"Okay, cool."

"Come with me," he requested with a lopsided grin.

"Get outta here, Jonathan!" commanded Nancy playfully, slapping his shoulder.

"Okay." And with that, he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the washroom. Once she heard the bathroom door close, the short haired woman collapsed on the sofa, part of her trying to figure out her next course of action and the other trying to convince the first to call off the mission and try again tomorrow. The tapioca pudding she'd planned on eating before bed was going to taste so good if she could finally get this pregnancy announcement over with, but was he even in the state of mind to be able to process this information? Nancy rubbed her temples in frustration and continued to argue with herself.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Nancy, Jonathan was reaching a high enough point of clarity that he realized the plastic bottle of his preferred body wash was empty. No matter, he knew where he could find more. Not wanting to use his girlfriend's soap (the floral scents that smelled heavenly on her just didn't suit him), Jonathan crouched down and opened the cabinet under the sink. It was so full of things like extra things like rolls of toilet paper and cleaning supplies that he couldn't locate his product right away. Jonathan's eyes darted around the organized chaos until they settled on an unopened box of condoms he didn't even remember where there. Chuckling a little to himself, he picked up the box to take a look at it. It had been a long time since he'd worn one of those. Ever since Nancy had gone on the pill, the pair really didn't have any need for condoms anymore. It would be a shame if a perfectly good box went to waste, however. He had been raised to avoid throwing out anything that was still good and the condoms were well within date. Briefly, Jonathan considered handing them to El since he knew for a fact that she and Mike had discussed taking their relationship to that level (she didn't bother admitting to him that they had already been experimenting, but that much was obvious from the way she suddenly became bashful at certain points in the conversation). Hopper was still adjusting to the idea (with Joyce's help), but Jonathan, being the big brother figure he was, knew that you couldn't stop raging teenage hormones, so why not just guide them in the right direction so they don't make mistakes in secret? He laughed to himself again. He was starting to sound like his mother.

Just then, Jonathan saw something in the cabinet that he didn't recognize. He put the box of condoms down beside him and picked up a little white stick he was sure hadn't been there before. Did it belong to Nancy? What even was it? Standing up, he twisted the thing around in his hand to get a better look at it. It almost looked like a digital thermometer but the part that would normally take your temperature was a lot thicker and flatter. He looked at the little circular screen, two red lines staring back at him as the sober part of his brain tried to push the still intoxicated portion out of the way so it could identify what the strange thing was. His mind moved through his memory banks, past his vast catalogue of rock band discography and over his database of English literature into the somewhat dusty memory of high school sex ed (which wasn't substantial at all). Jonathan could still envision himself sitting at his desk, glancing at the clock time and again while his sweaty, uncomfortable gym teacher droned on about abstinence or HIV or something, a younger Steve and Tommy goofing off in the back when Coach Hamilton's back was turned. He remembered one of these things being passed around the segregated boys-only class, the other teenage boys barely able to contain their immaturity while Jonathan had only really taken a glance at it before giving it to a classmate, but what was it?

Suddenly, it came to him. A pregnancy test! Jonathan smiled, the drunk part of his brain taking over momentarily to congratulate himself for being smart enough to remember.

Before he had time to celebrate any longer, the sober half of his brain slapped the drunk one back into reality. Why did Nancy have a seemingly used pregnancy test?

Nancy was just skimming through channels when the washroom door suddenly burst open and her boyfriend ran out, without his shirt but still wearing his pants from Samantha's date and nearly tripping over himself while his clear mind battled with his body, still a little clumsy from the alcohol.

"NANCY!" he called out, nearly hyperventilating.

The aforementioned young woman nearly jumped out of his t-shirt (she liked to wear them around the apartment) and held her heart in her chest to stop it from beating so hard. "Jonathan! What?!"

That was when she saw what he was holding in his hand and her heart sunk.

"Nancy," Jonathan breathed. "Are you pregnant?"

Shit. This was not how she wanted to tell him, but she had no choice now. Nancy attempted to collect herself a little before responding, trying and failing to remember even part of the script she had laid out for the reveal. "I... Y-yes?"

Without warning, Nancy was suddenly swept up into Jonathan's arms and he was swaying slightly (although not because of the alcohol) while he held her tightly. All of the anxiety, all of the things she had been worrying about for the past few days were washed away in an instant and Nancy wrapped her thin arms around his body in return, the urge to have him near her becoming too strong for her to bear. Before long, she could feel him begin to shake and when he pulled back, he took her face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, tears flowing freely from his eyes. Through smiling lips, he just kept whispering his love for her, drawing happy tears from her eyes too. In an instant, nothing else felt like it mattered: her now useless plans for confessing, the crack in the bathroom wall that the landlord was ignoring, all of the stress and secret tears she had shed at night while he was asleep and her worried tormented her... Witnessing Jonathan's overwhelming joy in that moment let Nancy give herself permission to finally feel the glee she had been neglecting all this time. It lifted her from where she stood and made all of her fantasies about him being a terrific father to their child spill from her lips and float between them like a wonderful spell. Their kisses were salty as they were both happily weeping, but that didn't matter either. All that mattered in the world was right there: the euphoria between the two of them (soon to be three).

A/N: In the spirit of quarantine, let me just take this time to tell you guys to stay safe out there. I know that things might feel completely out of your control right now and staying away from your loved ones is hard, but please know there are resources out there if you need help... I'll be taking advantage of those too most likely. lol Stay safe and I'll see you in chapter 4!