A/N: New chapter. Stuff happens. The mystery deepens.

Enjoy :)

-M

OF TANGENTS AND TWINE

The air around her felt alive.

Dark and tense; shrill with awareness and things unspoken.

She was very conscious of Mike next to her - that he was watching her closely with shadowy eyes - and her fingers worried themselves irresistibly into the twine of her crimson band, anxious and nimble.

All sound seemed to have been leeched from the theatre, the noise of the movie faded to nothing, and all she could really hear was the echoing of familiar voices in her head.

She felt numb.

Promise.

Why did that word have such resonance?

Slipping into her dreams, her visions, rippling at the edge of her consciousness... it was always there. A quavering note hidden within the beating of her heart. Then she raised her eyes to the screen, searching for something to anchor her.

But she found she couldn't quite see it... It was faded; slipping in and out of focus...

And there - like a taunt before her eyes - was that string, drifting capriciously and curiously vivid. She knew where it would lead.

But she didn't understand. She didn't understand any of it.

~xxxxx~

She didn't look at him again after that strange moment, at least not until the credits started to roll on the movie. Funny, he couldn't remember what they'd sat down to watch. Or what it had even been about.

And then she'd shot him a look as the lights were flickering back to life; a wary, wild glance-

...like coffee and amber...

And he felt a jolt of... something... a half-remembrance or a dream. Another fragment.

And another question.

He sighed as he stood up, shaking rogue pieces of popcorn from his lap, before following Jane, and a rather dishevelled Max and Lucas. They shuffled towards the exit in silence, though the sounds of Dustin and Adam bickering good-naturedly carried clearly in the stale air, followed by the quieter murmurings of Deb and April.

Night had fully fallen and it was much colder now, the chill settling onto their hair and cheeks as they spilled out of the theatre and onto the sidewalk. Lucas, looking grimly determined, immediately grabbed hold of Max's hand and dragged her around the corner, and they all heard her growl, "Watch it, Sinclair," as they disappeared from view.

No one said anything for a moment.

"Well," came Adam's dry remark, "didn't see that coming."

"You didn't have to sit next to them," Jane replied, shaking her head with a grimace.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Deb said, "we all got a pretty good view from where we were."

"And, you know," Mike added, as they began to drift towards the parking lot, "I don't think we paid for front row seats."

"Dude, no," Dustin groaned.

"Dude, yes," Mike echoed.

"I had no idea she liked him," April chimed in. "All she ever does is complain about you guys."

"Well," Dustin laughed, "that's Max."

"What does that even mean?" Deb asked, blinking owlishly.

"Love, hate – fine line and all that," Dustin replied airily.

Deb looked to Mike and Adam for clarification, and Mike took perverse pleasure in committing to nothing more than an affable shrug, while Adam merely grinned. The blonde girl simply rolled her eyes, and fell into step next to Jane and April, who were talking quietly.

"Speaking of..." Adam began in a low voice, as Dustin joined them. "What's going on with you and Jane?"

"Hey, man, shut up," Mike replied, going on the defensive – because, really, he had no idea what was going on with him and Jane. "Did you catch me sucking face with her in there? Try Lucas."

"Very touchy, Mike," Dustin smirked. "Any reason why?"

"You want me to ask you why you were trading candy with April?" Mike shot back, and was surprised when he saw that Dustin (for once) had no ready response to his pointedly harmless jibe.

They caught up with girls, who'd paused in front of Deb's car and seemed to be debating something.

"...well I mean, I was going to take April home," Deb was saying, "so if you want, you can come with us?"

"What? You guys are leaving?" Mike asked hastily, his gaze darting to Jane, where she perched against the hood of the car.

"Do you know if Max and Lucas plan on coming back any time soon?" Deb shot back, turning a frank gaze on the guys.

"Yeah," Jane nodded, not quite meeting his eye. "It's just that she gave me a ride over earlier. I wasn't sure whether I should hang around for her or not."

"And I've really got to get home," Deb added.

"I'm going with Deb – she's my ride," April explained.

"Yeah," Deb agreed. "We both live out past the quarry, and April doesn't have her licence yet."

"Me too," Dustin said, inclining his head towards April. "I'm still getting lessons."

"I just started." April smiled, and blushed a little as she glanced down at her feet. "I'm not very good."

"You'll be great," Dustin grinned back at her. "Right guys?"

"Sure," Adam chipped in, looming like a giant next to April's tiny form, while Mike nodded his agreement.

"Seriously," Jane laughed. "I've never even driven a car, so you're way ahead of me."

Mike wasn't alone in turning to look at Jane in surprise. She stilled self-consciously as their collective gaze fell on her, regarding them all with dark eyes and a heavy frown.

"What?" she asked. "It's not that weird, is it?"

"Um... no, of course not." Mike was quick to assure her. "Just most people in Hawkins need to drive, what with everything being sort of spread out."

"Oh..." she replied, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief. "Okay. Well, um, do you guys really not think Max is coming back any time soon?"

Dustin laughed and shook his head.

"I seriously doubt it."

"Are you sure?" Jane asked, a worried little frown appearing like a wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Coz I don't really have another way to get home."

"Yeah," Dustin shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Jane's concern, and Mike wanted to hit him for being such a tool. "I mean, Lucas and Max have been snarking and making gooey eyes at each other for, like, a year now. They need to sort that shit out."

No one said anything, and Dustin's face reddened slightly in discomfort as everyone turned to look at him.

"What?" he asked defensively. "That's what Lucas said, anyways. Well not the part about the gooey eyes, that's all my work, but he pretty much said the same thing to me."

"It's about goddamn time," Adam said, with something that sounded like a sigh of relief.

"I know," Mike grinned. "Right?"

Dustin nodded, rolling his eyes a little.

"Oh yeah," Mike went on, turning back to Jane. "So, um, it looks like Max and Lucas might be gone a while..." he paused for a moment, wanting to take his chance.

Just do it, he told himself. Ask her. 'Hey, Jane, I'll give you a ride home if you want.' Easy.

But before he could even form the words, Adam spoke up.

"Alright, so Deb and April are going in Deb's car, I'll take Dustin home, and Mike – you okay taking Jane?"

Usually, Mike liked to be the one in charge – an old habit from childhood - but for once he was happy to let Adam take the lead, and he shot him a grateful look, which Adam met with a single nod of acknowledgement. He glanced at Jane, feeling apprehensive

What if she says no?

"Is- is that okay with you?" he asked, the words tumbling from his mouth in an unruly rush.

And looking rather shy, she met his eyes for a brief moment before nodding slowly.

~xxxxx~

She walked with him to the car in slow silence. It was her preferred form of social currency. And she wasn't entirely used to talking to people her own age. Or even outside her own family.

Still, that was changing.

Becky wasn't her mom, not even close. They were nothing alike.

But Becky didn't know everything.

Jane sighed. She hated lying to her aunt. She hated lying to everyone.

"Hey..." Mike began, breaking the silence. "You okay?"

"Yeah..." she replied, but contradicted herself with another heavy sigh.

"Sure," he laughed lightly, as they stopped in front of his car. "You know..." he paused, eyes sliding down to his feet. "You know, you can talk to me if you want. I'm not an asshole – I wouldn't, like, go telling everyone your shit."

His eyes sought out hers as he finished, and though it was hard to see his expression in the gloom of the poorly-lit parking lot, she could hear the sincerity in his voice. She smiled wryly in response before adding:

"Maybe."

They got into the car and Mike fired up the engine, and began to pull out of the parking lot. He pulled down the window to throw a wave to Adam and Dustin on the way, who whooped and yelled back at them as they drove off.

Silence fell once again, neither awkward nor comfortable; it simply was. It was Jane and Mike sitting in a car, alone with their thoughts. And that was kind of nice.

But there was an underlying tension stretching beneath the silence, one Jane wasn't sure she wanted to acknowledge, because it tugged and teased in a way that reminded her of the thread and its mocking undulations.

"Hey, um, Jane?" Mike's voice was quiet, falling gently between them.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a curfew or anything?"

"Not really?" she replied. "I mean, my aunt didn't give me an exact time to be home at. She just told me not to be out too late." She shrugged, thinking about it. "I'm not really sure what that even means?"

"It means she's a lot cooler than my mom," Mike said with a gentle huff of laughter. "She's big into curfews. My sister Nancy used to break them all the time when she was in high school so it's kind of a thing my mom has now." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, so you think your aunt won't mind if you're kinda late home?"

"I'd say she'll be okay," she nodded, hoping it was true. "She trusts me, I guess, and this is a small town," she went on, wondering where he was going with this. "Why?"

"Well..." he began, and his expression was something that was nervousness and awkwardness at the same time, though it was hard for Jane to tell in the soft gloom of the car. "I was sort of hoping... I mean - um... can we talk?"

"Are we not talking now?" she asked, confused.

Was there more than one kind of talking?

"No, we are," he hastened to reassure her. "It's just..." He pulled up at a stoplight and turned his head to meet her eye. His were black and glinting in the half light, dark hooks for the soul, and she couldn't look away. She couldn't.

"But we need to talk, don't we?" he finally said, after what felt like hours.

And she nodded. Because the conversation he wanted, the one they needed to have, was inevitable anyway.

They were silent once more as the light turned green, and this time there was anticipation, almost palpable, between them. Jane could feel it ticking in her veins, making her fidgety and nervous. She wanted to look at him, but didn't; forcing herself to stare out of the window at the trees, so many trees, rushing past.

Until, a few minutes later, the car began to slow and Mike pulled in off the road. It was too dark to make out anything, save for the fact that they were surrounded by yet more trees.

He cut the engine but didn't turn to look at her immediately.

"You can see it too, can't you?" he said into the beating silence, and she didn't need to ask what he meant.

"Yes," she answered, her voice husky.

"What is it?" he asked, turning to face her then, eyes bright with curiosity.

"I... I don't know," she told him. "It's a thread."

"I know it's a thread," he said, a beat of impatience in his tone, "but what does it mean?"

"I'm sorry Mike... I don't know."

She did know, sort of, but it was hard to explain. What if he didn't believe her? What if he thought she was crazy?

"Can you tell me what you do know?"

"I know about your band – the one on your wrist," she murmured. "I have one too."

"I know."

"You do?" she asked, feeling a quick shiver of panic.

Had he seen her that night, when the thread had led her to him in the void?

"Yeah," he nodded. "I saw you playing with it earlier. During the movie," he added in response to her enquiring glance. "How long have you had it? Mine just... I dunno... appeared on my wrist the other day. I can't get it off," he finished, sounding bewildered.

"I've had mine for as long as I can remember," she replied truthfully. "It's always been there, and it's never come off."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's kind of strange..." she sighed, trying to find the words. Then she turned her body towards his, to look at him properly and went on, "I mean, you can see the thread right?"

"Well, not always"-

"But you can see it, right?" she cut in, trying to make her point while she still could. "Not everyone can, you know. In fact... you're the only other person I've met who can. I'm not sure what that means.

"And you're right; it's not always there. Sometimes it disappears for months," she told him, then paused. "Or it used to... before I moved here. But I think"- and here she had to stop and take a deep breath –"I think it has something to do with you."

"You might be right about that," he admitted wryly. "My life was boring until I met you."

She saw his eyes widen in alarm at his own candour, and she let out a chuckle.

"It's okay," she said, meeting his gaze shyly. "I know what you meant."

He looked away, embarrassed.

"So..." he mused, "if the band on your wrist has always been there, does that mean you've always been able to see the thread?"

"It's been there for a long time," she answered carefully. She didn't know how to explain what happened in her head; in the deep, rippling void of her consciousness. She wasn't ready. "But only in my dreams, until lately. You saw it tonight?"

He nodded, then added, "But it wasn't the first time. I saw it the other day as well."

"In the hallway at school?" she asked, casting a furtive look his way. "The other day, right?"

"You saw it too?" he asked, relieved evident in his tone.

"Yes."

"Was that the first time you saw it? Like, outside of your dreams?"

She shook her head.

"Sometimes... I'd think I saw it. It'd be there, in the corner of my eye, and then I'd turn... and there'd be nothing." She shrugged, ignoring the chords of frustration laced into her tone. "But then at the arcade... I saw it." She paused and met his eye. "It didn't disappear."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The silence yawned between them, vast and littered with confusion, and the only thing anchoring them was the red tendril which connected them.

"This is so weird," Mike sighed.

"I know."

"Did you... did you..." he attempted to phrase a question, then paused for a moment before deciding to abandon it. "You know what, never mind."

"No, tell me," she pleaded.

He sighed, clearly frustrated, "Not tonight. Another time, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, feeling strangely rebuffed.

"I just need to... I dunno..." he paused, running his hands through his hair, and then went on with a huff of laughter. "It's just so weird."

"I know," she repeated, then laughed.

And it was good laughter, the kind of laughter she was unused to, because laughter at all had been rare before; the kind of laughter which sounded so much better when Mike started to laugh too.

~xxxxx~

It was later than she realised when he dropped her off. The night was black, and had wrapped around them like a blanket on the drive back to her house. The glow from the porch light felt like a rude interruption as the car came to a stop outside her house.

Mike turned to look at her.

"So..." he began.

"So?" she echoed.

"I'll see you Monday?" he asked.

She smiled, "Yeah."

The silence between them grew weighty with meaning and Jane knew that if she were to look down at their twinned woven bands, they would be glowing as fiercely as the thread had that day in the hallway. Still, she tried not to look.

"Thanks for the ride home, by the way," she added, suddenly bashful.

"It was nothing," he demurred, with an easy shrug.

"Still..." she went on, "I wanted to say thank you. For tonight. I had fun."

He looked at her then, meeting her gaze squarely.

"Me too."

"We... we should do it again... sometime..." she said, feeling rather detached, dreamy.

"Yeah, we should," he agreed.

"I... I should probably say good night," she supplied, though she really didn't want to. "Becky will be wondering where I am."

He looked disappointed, she thought, though not surprised.

And even though she'd spoken the words, she felt unable to move, riveted by the certainty that their moment was not yet over. Gathering her courage and guided by instinct, she leant towards him and placed a gentle, breathy kiss onto his cheek.

She could feel the scrape of barely-there stubble beneath her lips, heard the ragged sound of his exhalation against her ear-

And she pulled back, heart pounding and eyes wide.

"Good night," she mumbled, suddenly unable to look at him. Then she grabbed her bag and scrambled out of the car before he could even respond.

~xxxxx~

Mike watched as Jane chased up the drive to her house like a startled rabbit, then turned away as she shut the door, having not once looked back.

He turned on the engine, though didn't immediately drive away, instead raising a fingertip to the spot she'd kissed, a thoughtful frown furrowing his brow.

In a habit he hadn't even realised he'd formed, he glanced down at the band on his wrist and saw it was gleaming. In some strange way, it felt as though it had always been there, as though it had been stitched into his skin – and he'd only just learned to see it.

Sighing, he glanced once more towards Jane's house, but his eye snagged on a familiar red wallet.

She had said she was always losing it.

He didn't mind. He liked having a valid excuse to see her again, sooner rather than later.

~xxxxx~

The door fell shut behind her with a gentle click. The house was dark, and Jane wondered if she was later than she'd first thought. Then a door opened and Becky stood silhouetted in the golden light which spilled from the room.

Jane felt a drop of liquid fear spill through her chest, an icy reminder of the last time she'd stood like this, as though caught in a trap.

"Well, hey there, stranger," Becky spoke, in a low sardonic tone. The faint tang of smoke followed her words from the kitchen.

She didn't reply, choosing instead to watch her aunt closely with shadowed wary eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna bite you," continued Becky, a grin playing around her mouth. "I was getting a little worried is all." She paused. "Glad you're back safe and sound. You want cocoa?"

Jane allowed herself to relax, and she smiled and nodded.

She followed Becky into the kitchen. An empty cup sat side by side with a half-filled ashtray, and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. Jane watched as Becky moved around the kitchen, taking out a pot and setting it onto the stove.

"Grab the milk, would you Janie?" Becky asked with a quick glance over her shoulder.

She slouched over to the fridge, pulling out the carton, and passed it to Becky. Leaning back against the counter, Jane waited as her aunt poured the milk into the pot to boil and then turned to meet her square in the eye.

"So," she began, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, and lighting one. "You have fun?"

"Yeah," Jane nodded. "It was nice."

"Nice, huh?" Becky exhaled. "Better than fine then, yeah?"

Jane grinned ruefully, "Yeah, it is."

"You know, I wasn't expecting you back so late," Becky commented with another drag on her cigarette. "Who was the guy?"

Jane froze.

"You know, the one who dropped you home."

And try as she might, Jane couldn't help but remember another night, not so long ago – though it felt like forever – when she'd snuck out, desperate for one night, just one night, where she could feel normal; where she'd tasted what it was to have fun and be free...

And she'd been caught, and punished for it, by her mother.

She shivered.

"Jane."

Her name came on a sigh from her aunt, and it was enough to bring her back to the present.

"Jane, honey... I'm not your mom. You know that right?"

She nodded shakily, unsure of her voice.

"I know... I know what she did, Jane," Becky told her, voice tentative and grainy. "I know she locked you away and... I know why. And I'm sorry – God, I'm so sorry." She paused to take another emphatic drag the cigarette. "But sweetie, I won't do that to you. I'll never do that. You'll never be locked away again."

She stubbed out the butt of her smoke and crossed to Jane, taking her shoulders into the warm grasp of her hands. Jane tried to meet her aunt's frank gaze, but it was difficult and she could feel burning at the back of her eyes, and she forced herself to look down, to master herself.

"Jane?"

"Do you promise?" she finally asked, her voice almost inaudible, even to her own ears.

"Yeah," came Becky's ready reply. "Yeah, I promise."

And then Becky's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close into a tight hug. It took her a moment to respond but she did, drawing her arms around her aunt, smelling the mingling scents of smoke and perfume and hairspray. When they pulled apart, Becky shot her an uncharacteristically soft smile and brought gentle hands up to her face, wiping away a few errant tears which had escaped.

"But, like, you know, I might ground you if you start acting like a little shit," she said with a little chuckle. "Okay?"

"Okay," Jane agreed, unable to help her answering smile. "I think I can handle that."

"Okay," Becky nodded, looking much happier. "So..." she went on, a sly grin creeping onto her face. "Who was the guy?"

And Jane, strangely enough, had the strangest urge to tell her. To tell her all about Mike – about both Mikes, about the thread and her strange connection to it all. But just as she was about to do it, or at least try, Becky's nose wrinkled and a look of disgust crept onto her face.

Jane stopped, sniffing the air, hit suddenly by the acrid smell of something burning. And then in the same moment, they both realised-

"The milk!"

Becky shot across to the stove, to the now smoking pot, and pulled it off the heat. She was regarding the contents with an expression of something akin to horror. Then she looked up at Jane, who was trying desperately not to laugh.

"Crap."

A/N: A huge thank you to sallyjavery who beta'd this chapter, actually all the chapters and offered me some solid advice on matters of Taste, and reminded me of safety first when driving, and has generally been an absolute star overall.

Thank you to all you lovely readers who stopped by to read, and stayed to follow, fave and review. I'm so happy people are enjoying this fic, even if it makes zero sense right now. I'm all about the slow reveal. Or something.

I'm sorry for how long this update took, but my real life is stupid busy and sometimes I'm lucky if I get even a couple of hours a week to write anything properly.

Finally, you can find me on tumblr under mildred-meadowlark, so say hi if you like :)

-Millie x