Author's note: We're going somewhere Stranger Things has never gone before: the 90s! If you'd rather leave them in the 80s, stop reading now and assume everybody lived happily ever after, including the new Byers-Medvedev family. If you wondered if that episode with Eight was ever going to build to anything, read on.

Chapter 35

Feb. 6, 1994

Something was off, and Alexei couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to go very wrong.

Not that he had any reason to expect the worst. His work at the lab was going well, and everyone was more relaxed, now that the new Russian Federation was too busy trying to hold itself together to worry about portals to new worlds. Joyce was gradually buying out the store where she worked, so the owner could retire, and she was thriving in her new role as boss. She'd even hired a new person for her old job, a single mother named Rosario who had a head for numbers to balance out Joyce's innate sense of what people wanted to buy. He sometimes laughed a bit, that he was indirectly part of the petit bourgeoisie through their shared investment.

He hadn't mentioned marriage again since the beginning, but the thought had been back in his mind ever since he'd taken his oath of citizenship in January. He was a real American now, so what harm could there be in formalizing what everyone had already accepted? He'd been carrying a ring in his pocket for a week, trying to find the right moment, before deciding to wait until Valentine's Day.

Jonathan had suggested it might be a little clichéd, but Nancy thought it was romantic, and a young woman should know. He smiled a bit as he thought of them. It wouldn't be long until Jonathan got down on one knee himself, he was sure, but for now they seemed happy working their starter jobs in a little city in western Michigan. Will was doing well, too. He'd finally worked up the courage to confess what Joyce had always suspected and to introduce them to Evan. His own father would have unleashed a terrible beating if his son had said he was in love with a man, but he had no intention of repeating his father's mistakes. And Evan wasn't so bad, really.

And Lily – Lily. Little Lilya. He wanted to believe everything was all right there, too, and anyone on the outside would say he had little to worry about. She seemed to have inherited some fortuitous combination of Joyce's lively spark and his intellectual curiosity, and her teachers said she was a delight – as long as nobody did something she thought was unfair. Then Joyce's temper came out. All of the report cards said she was fine, but he and Joyce had seen her start pulling into herself. She spent more and more time drawing pictures he didn't understand, and some that bothered him. Just that morning, she'd drawn him lying on the couch under a blanket, with none of the squiggly hair she seemed to so enjoy crowning herself and him with in their family portraits. When he asked about it, she just said he was very sick in the picture. He reassured her he felt fine, but she wasn't mollified.

Still, the prospect of an ice cream cone if she behaved during their errands seemed to bring her around. He told himself to stop worrying. Kids saw all sorts of stuff in school and on TV. And she was fine now, holding onto his hand and chattering about how she and LaTisha Jackson were working on best-friend bracelets. He promised they would stop by Mommy's store and buy more beads after he picked up his car.

Steve was waiting with the keys. "Sure I can't show you one of the newer models?" he hinted. Alexei laughed. Steve had truly found the right job, because he could charm almost anyone into a new car. It didn't work on him, but only because he had grown up in a place where you had to wait years on a list to even become eligible to purchase a car. Trading up still felt very foreign. "All right, I'll get you some time." Steve bent down to Lily's level. "Conner's over by the toys, if you want to play." Lily scampered off to join Steve's son.

"Looks like he's doing vell," Alexei said. It still seemed strange to him, that someone his stepson's age had a son the same age as Lily, but Steve had done a lot of growing up from the kid that Jonathan and Nancy knew. After his girlfriend had decided she wasn't prepared for family life, Steve had stepped up and raised Conner on his own. Whenever Alexei saw them, he tried to quietly reassure Steve he was doing well. He knew the fear that came with parenting, and how much it meant to hear you weren't messing everything up.

"He's good," Steve said as he filled out the paperwork. "I think the therapy's really working." He tilted his head toward Conner, who was showing Lily a toy truck. "He never would have done that before." He lowered his voice so the kids couldn't hear. "I really appreciate how Lily includes him. It's tough for a kid with Asperger's-"

"He's a great kid," Alexei said. "If you hadn't told me dere vas a name for it, I vould have dought he vas doomed to be a physicist." Steve cocked his head. "Half of de physics department at Moscow University vas just like him." Half was a bit of an exaggeration, but Steve was the sort of person who might need a reminder that obsessive focus and a bit of social awkwardness didn't necessarily preclude a good life. It seemed to resonate. Steve was smiling as he brought Alexei's car around.

Steve playfully offered Lily his hand to help her into the back seat, like a princess into her coach. Lily took it, then stopped and looked at him. Her eyes went wide.

"Vat's wrong, Lilya?" Alexei asked. Lily shook her head and scrambled into the car. Alexei looked at Steve and shrugged. Steve shrugged back. He, of all people, knew not to take kids' reactions personally.

Alexei let Lily get halfway through her chocolate ice cream with sprinkles before asking any questions. She kept shaking her head, and he would let it sit, then try another way. Finally, after she had finished her cone, she asked for crayons.

He watched as she drew. A car, then another car, then a tree. "An accident?" he asked.

Lily shook her head. "The bad man," she said, pointing to a frowning stick figure in the car that had T-boned the other, as far as he could tell.

"And who is dat?" He pointed to the stick figure in the car crushed between the bad man's vehicle and the tree.

"Mr. Steve," she said, and then she crawled into his lap. She wouldn't say anything more, no matter how he asked. Finally, he gave up and just stroked her hair and told her it would be all right. And all logic said it would.

Joyce couldn't draw her out either. He told her what had happened after Lily asked to go to bed early, which she never did except when she'd had chickenpox. He showed her the drawing and explained about the bad man and Steve. "It's probably just someding she saw on TV," he said, though with less conviction in his voice than he'd intended.

"It's been seven years since anything happened," Joyce said. "I thought we'd put it all behind us."

"It doesn't have to mean-" Alexei started, but the sound of squealing tires and crunching metal cut him off. He and Joyce ran outside. Across the street, a red car was sandwiched between a black van and a tree. Someone was standing outside the red car, leaning in – maybe talking to someone in the back seat? Then whoever it was saw them, ran back to his van and jumped in.

"Call de police," Alexei said, while he ran to get the van's license plate. He caught a glimpse as it drove away, then ran to the red car. Please be a stranger, please be a stranger, he thought, and for a moment he hoped it was. Then the bloody man slumped over the wheel looked up through his normally-perfect hair. Shit. He took a breath and tried to keep his voice calm. "It's okay, Steve. Joyce is calling de police. Dey'll help you and Conner." He quickly checked the back seat, then did a double take. The car seat was empty. "Steve? Steve, vere is Conner?"

Author's note: What do you think? Worth the trip forward in time? Please read and review!