(November 2nd, 1984)
"So um—why are we here again?"
"We need assistance. I can't reach anyone from home. Therefore, we are venturing out in search of that assistance ourselves," Dustin explains, exasperation clear in his tone, because clearly, Eddie should have already come to that conclusion on his own, "You're free to leave any time."
"Dustin—"
"What? It's not like we aren't on a bit of a time crunch, here."
"And why would that be, again?" Cami retorts, swallowing back a frustrated groan by sheer force of will alone when Dustin responds with an equally over-done roll of the eyes, "Oh, right, because someone decided to adopt a pet from the Upside Down!"
"I already told you, I didn't know that Dart was from—"
"He's a slimy creature that keeps growing, and he doesn't look like anything normal. Exactly what else could he have possibly been, Dustin?"
"A pollywog."
"A pollywog?"
"Y—yeah," Dustin stammers, clearly picking up on some of the latent frustration that has been building behind Cami's attempted facade of a calm and rational demeanor, though he has no chance to rectify the situation, given that she is already charging ahead at full-steam.
"Since when would a pollywog eat someone's cat?"
"Since now, apparently."
"Oh my God—"
"Okay. Maybe you stay back with me, while the kid goes to see if the Wheelers are even home," Eddie suggests, ignoring the incredulous look Cami sends him in response, and hoping that for once, she will see the sense in hanging back, if for no other reason than to give herself a moment to breathe.
In the time since they had left Henderson's place, with Dart still presumably locked away in the cellar, she had fallen silent. Eddie hadn't missed the stiff set of her spine. The hard line of her jaw, and the way her arms remained crossed resolutely across her chest.
All things considered, Eddie is honestly surprised Cami is still standing, let alone coherent enough to maintain her frustration, rather than allowing her emotions to implode like his had been threatening to do for the last hour at least. But he would be blind if he didn't notice that she is barely holding on by a thread.
And Dustin's steadfast insistence that he'd done nothing wrong clearly isn't making it any better.
"Henderson?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think the Wheelers wanna see someone like me hanging out on their front porch."
"So?" Dustin scoffs, looking between Eddie and Cami as though both of them have clearly gone insane, "They love Cami."
"Yeah, and if you don't want her killing you and burying your body somewhere it'll never be found, I think she needs a minute, man."
Another glance between the two high schoolers, and Dustin seems to sense that going to the Wheelers' front door solo just might be the best plan after all, the sound of his low grumblings fading away rather quickly as the door to the van slides closed with a snap. And after sparing a moment to ensure the kid isn't about to return with something else to say, Eddie turns back to Cami, aware of how she is rather carefully avoiding his gaze all the while.
"Breathe, Hopper. It's gonna be—"
"It's gonna be okay?" Cami interjects, the hysteria that has been creeping up on her since leaving Dart in the cellar finally making an appearance whether she wants it to or not, "Yeah, no, it—it's gonna be fine. There's a damn demogorgon in Dustin's cellar, but it's gonna be fine."
"Okay. Poor choice of words," Eddie admits, holding steady, even in spite of the sharp glance Cami cuts his way, "But I kinda thought if I asked if you were okay, I'd be next on your shit list."
"You thought correctly."
"And—am I on that list anyway by saying it's gonna be okay?"
The snort that Cami gives proves to be somewhat reassuring, even though it clearly comes at a cost, and Eddie catches himself breathing a small sigh of relief as she finally—finally—seems to relax, even if only just a bit.
"You must think I'm absolutely insane."
"I dunno, Hopper, for a girl who uh—who just fought off a creature that shouldn't exist, I'd say you're doing pretty good."
"Ugh," Cami groans, slumping in the passenger seat and dropping her head in her hands, her nerves still jangling even with the growing amount of time that has passed since the events in question, "I'm insane, Eddie. Just—just say it."
"Nope."
"Eddie—"
"Not gonna happen," Eddie insists, scooting just a bit closer to Cami, and frowning a bit as the act has her almost immediately flinching away, "Hey—we're here, okay? You, me, the kid—we're alive."
"I know."
"That's got to count for something, right?"
Biting back what will likely be a hysterical laugh as best she can, Cami shakes her head, forcing herself to look Eddie in the eye, even as the concern in his expression threatens to break her resolve in two. And that concern is genuine. She can tell that just by a singular glance.
It would be a lie to say that such a thing is anywhere close to what she might have expected, and she is left with little else to do but flounder around in her surprise, only managing a slight nod in response to Eddie's query by sheer force of will alone.
It doesn't make any sense. He shouldn't care. He really, really shouldn't, because he doesn't know the entire scope of her failures.
Eddie doesn't know about Eleven. About how she went missing again on Cami's watch. And he can't know about her. That is one secret that Cami will never tell.
But if he did? If Eddie somehow found a way to learn of that little detail, as well?
Cami is all but certain he would never see her in the same way again.
"Hey—hey, you still with me, sweetheart?"
"I—yeah. Yeah, I'm—I'm here."
"You sure about that?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Cami questions, swallowing past a knot of apprehension in her throat, and trying to avoid the instinctive desire to allow her teeth to dig into her lower lip, "I'm fine, Eddie."
"Uh-huh. Sure you are."
"I can't not be okay. I can't, because if I let myself think about this—about what it all means—for even a damned second, I'll lose my mind."
"And here I was thinking you'd already done that by hanging out with me," Eddie quips, once again taking far more relief than he probably deserves in the slight shake of Cami's shoulder that comes as a result of a faint laugh, "There she is."
"There who is?"
"The Hopper I've grown used to. Thought we lost her there for a second."
"Very funny, Eddie," Cami sighs, running her hands across her face for one final time, and finally gathering the courage to look Eddie in the eye not long after, "For what it's worth, though I—I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
"For dragging you into this. For—for pulling you into something that shouldn't be real."
"I'm fine right where I am."
"But—"
"Hopper. I'm fine," Eddie persists, reaching for Cami's hand, and finding that this time, she does not seem as inclined to pull away, "I mean it's not like I was going to be doing any of my homework this weekend anyway."
"Maybe they'll accept 'I was nearly murdered by an interdimensional slug' as an excuse for getting an extension on the due date."
"Maybe."
Aware of how Eddie's hand still lingers on her own, Cami risks a glance down at it, herself, her brow furrowing while her teeth dig into her lower lip. The contact is hardly unwelcome, but she cannot quite begin to comprehend it. She cannot fathom a world where, after everything Eddie is having to endure because of his connection to her, he even wants to be this close to her at all.
Cami knows she is staring for what is probably far too long, but she cannot seem to stop. Not even when she realizes Eddie is tensing just a bit for a reason she does not yet understand.
"Shit."
"Shit? What—Eddie, what is it?" Cami asks, finally tearing her gaze away from his hand in her own for long enough to glance out the windshield of the van instead. As soon as she follows the line of his gaze, her heart skitters to a stop within her chest, and her hand almost immediately drops from his own not long after.
Steve Harrington is getting out of his car with a carefully wrapped bouquet of red roses, walking up to the Wheelers' front door just as Dustin is walking away. And even if Cami wanted to somehow find a way to stop it, she knows there is absolutely nothing she can do to keep Dustin from pulling Steve in on their little venture whether he wants to be there or not.
Shit.
She hadn't seen him since the other day at school. Since the almost-kiss. And she had not wanted to, unable to face the idea of pretending everything is normal when it is far from it. But even in spite of her fear and habitual avoidance, Cami would be lying to pretend it does not sting to see him carrying flowers to Nancy Wheeler's front door, even knowing she's his girlfriend. That they are not officially broken up…
And now, Steve is heading to the van in Dustin's wake, confusion apparent in his expression, leaving Cami little to no choice other than to steel herself and pretend that everything will be alright, even if she knows absolutely nothing could be farther from the truth.
Risking one final glance at Eddie, Cami swallows past any apprehension she can feel bubbling to the surface, because she knows he will be able to see it in seconds flat. And that small concession happens not a moment too soon, the sound of Dustin yanking the van's door open causing her to flinch while Steve's startled gaze almost immediately locks upon her own.
Just as she thought.
Shit.
…
"I can hear you thinking from over here, Nancy."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Just—maybe tell me what you're thinking about?" Jonathan requests, picking at the crust of the sandwich he'd packed for his own meal prior to leaving home while Nancy does the same with something she'd spirited away before leaving that morning, that is now spread out on the hotel room bed. The two of them had settled into a companionable silence of sorts since securing the two-bed room in the dingy little motel, but he can feel that comfort slowly slipping away.
He isn't exactly the sort that's very good at idle chit-chat, but if it makes Nancy feel more at ease, then Jonathan is at least determined to give it a try.
"I'm just—I'm hoping we're doing the right thing."
"Nancy—"
"I know. I know, we've talked through this at least half a dozen times," Nancy admits, releasing a heavy sigh, and trying to tamp down on some of the apprehension still coiling around her insides with little to no success at all, "And I'm not second-guessing the plan. But if anyone else gets caught in the crossfire—"
"They won't."
"You don't know that."
"Are you worried about Steve?"
The question escapes before he can even think to stop it, and Jonathan would be a liar to pretend he cannot see Nancy's expression growing more guarded in response. He would kick himself for being so foolish, but before he gets the chance, Nancy is shaking her head, her expression still mostly unreadable, such that Jonathan is suddenly determined to refrain from even making a move until she speaks for fear of pushing her away.
"No. I mean I—I guess, maybe, but that's not—that's not who I was talking about."
"Who were you talking about?"
"Cami. Will. Mike. The rest of the kids."
"You think the lab will go after them if we do this?"
"How can I not?" Nancy inquires, pushing some of her own attempt at dinner away, and crossing her legs beneath her on the bedspread not long after, "Barb—Barb deserves this. This kind of closure. And I want those—those assholes to pay for what they did and what they're covering up. But—"
"But if it comes at the cost of someone else we care about, you won't forgive yourself."
"Would you?"
"No," Jonathan replies, the answer an immediate decision, as the only thing he seems capable of imagining since they set out on this little venture is the multitude of awful things that could happen to his mom. To Will, if the lab traces the leak he and Nancy intend to initiate back to its source. Them, "But—but Hopper's with my mom more than he's not. Mike, and the other kids have their parents."
"And Cami?"
"C'mon, Nance, since when has Cami not been able to take care of herself?"
"She shouldn't have to, Jonathan."
"I know. But she can. And her dad isn't gonna just let her do it all alone, either. You know that."
"And here I thought you were going to be the voice of reason, trying to talk me out of this," Nancy teases, managing a faint smile as she risks a peek at Jonathan where he sits on the bed opposite her own, "Guess I was wrong."
"Huh. Nancy Wheeler is capable of being wrong? Alert the media."
"Oh very funny."
"I thought so," Jonathan chuckles, lifting a hand at the last possible moment to avoid a small piece of bread sailing his way from Nancy's side of the room striking him in the face, "Hey!"
"What? You deserved that."
"Oh really."
"Yep. Really."
"Right. Well then, I guess it's only fair that I return the favor."
"Return the—" Nancy begins, the words trailing off as soon as she recognizes the twitch at one corner of Jonathan's mouth, and the way he rips off a piece of his own sandwich to lob it her way. Shrieking as she dodges out of the way, she cannot resist a laugh, her own fingers already pulling at a bit of sliced cheese for retaliation.
A part of her can sense the small flare of guilt that rises up in response to her actions. To the idea of what may or may not be construed as a bit of harmless flirting, when she is still, technically speaking, involved with someone else. With Steve.
But Steve is not here. In truth, Nancy is starting to wonder if she ever should've resumed their relationship last year, because a part of her—a part that she had tried to convince herself would simply die away—hasn't been able to shake the connection she and Jonathan forged in that same time frame. Not even with her best efforts spent to push it from her mind altogether.
Maybe it sticks with her because it was so—unexpected. Before Will's disappearance last year, Nancy had hardly even paid much attention to Jonathan's existence at all. He'd been around to pick Will up when he spent time with Mike, of course. And Cami could do nothing but sing his praises whenever she spoke of him.
To Nancy, though, Jonathan had been nothing more than the older brother of one of her own brother's best friends. He'd been nothing more than that for so long.
And then they had battled a demogorgon, and everything—absolutely everything—had changed.
Nancy thinks all of these things while still managing to engage, at least half-heartedly, in the impromptu food fight that she had begun. And she can no longer ignore the twist of regret that pulls at her heart. At her mind. Because she'd done what she could to convince herself that she loved Steve. That she wanted to be with him.
When in reality, she is finally starting to realize she wanted someone else all along.
"Hey. Nance, are—are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I—I'm fine."
Jonathan isn't entirely sure he can believe those words, but he doesn't say anything further, the confusion that he can see so clearly in Nancy's expression at startling odds with the slight flush that spreads across her cheeks. She's gorgeous. He would be a fool to say anything other than that one, singular fact. But he has absolutely no business thinking like that at all, when he knows she is still with Steve.
Steve Harrington. The ass that had stood by while Carol and Tommy spray-painted all of those horrible things about Nancy in the alleyway last year. The guy who toyed with Cami's heart and then threw it away when he got bored.
He'd changed a bit since that time, sure. But that doesn't mean Jonathan has to trust him.
And it sure as hell doesn't mean he has to let the guy close enough to hurt either Nancy or Cami ever again.
"Okay. Unless we want to end up cleaning food out of the bedsheets all night, maybe we should see what's on TV instead?" He suggests, watching as an almost palpable sort of relief floods Nancy's features, and allowing himself to feel some of that same sensation himself at the idea of not having overstepped as badly as he feared.
"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds—that sounds nice."
While Nancy clears up the debris from her meal, and his own, and deposits it into the trash can beside the door, Jonathan tries to keep his attention on figuring out the foreign remote for the TV, instead. And although he does not entirely succeed, unable to keep from darting the occasional glance Nancy's way when she is not looking, he allows himself to relax just enough to lean back against the headboard while she opts for sprawling on her own bed, resting on her stomach with her head supported in the palms of both hands.
For now, at least, they are both at ease, for however long that lasts.
And all things considered, Jonathan supposes he really cannot ask for more.
…
"So—Harrington's bat," Eddie muses, risking a glance at Cami where she sits in the passenger seat of the van, her silence once again practically bursting with tension, nerves, and maybe even a little bit of bitter regret as well, "What's that all about?"
"Remember how I told you we took out that demogorgon?"
"I do."
"Aside from lighting it on fire, the bat was a pretty big help," Cami informs, still keeping her gaze on the driveway leading up to Dustin's home, while they follow behind Steve and the kid in his own car, "Probably more effective than a crowbar, now that I think of it."
"You went up against the demogorgon with a crowbar last year, too?"
"No. Last year I had my dad's gun."
"Your dad's—shit."
"This year, apparently, I'm going for the downgrade."
Eddie frowns at that, because again, he can detect that sense of bitter frustration. Like Cami is talking around something she is not willing to say out loud. And even though he's only known her a year, he can already tell that it is unlike her. That she's clearly more troubled than she wants to admit, since her forthright and sometimes blunt persona has gone to the backburner.
Something is definitely wrong, and Eddie has every reason to believe it has something to do with the jock getting out of the BMW just up ahead.
"Want me to hit him?"
"What?"
"Harrington. I could make it look like an accident. My foot slips on the accelerator and then—whoops—down he goes."
"Oh my God, Eddie."
"I'm serious. Just say the word, milady."
"First thing, I'm definitely no lady."
"Well there, I disagree," Eddie interjects, the wink and subtle smirk he sends Cami's way provoking a slight flush to the skin of her cheeks, "But go on."
"You're impossible."
"Never pretended otherwise, sweetheart."
"Anyway," Cami huffs, somehow unable to make even the slightest effort to convince Eddie of an exasperation she does not truly feel, despite the lingering uncertainty brought about by the reality of Steve's presence a mere few feet away, "If we don't want Dustin reading us the riot act, we'd better get out of the van. And you are definitely not allowed to run Steve over. At least not yet."
"So there's still hope."
"Shut up."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Rolling her eyes, Cami moves to hop down from the passenger seat of the van to the ground, while Eddie does the same on the vehicle's opposite side. And even though it takes all the strength she has to maintain a neutral facade, by some miracle she succeeds, her expression hardly wavering even when she forces herself to look Steve in the eye as he offers Eddie an almost dismissive glance before turning back to her, instead.
"How much does he know?"
"All of it."
"All of it?" Steve repeats, incredulity lacing his tone, though he has the sense enough to backpedal a bit as soon as Cami's brow lifts in a way that leaves him in no doubt that she is all but daring him to disagree with her apparent decision to include Eddie in this in any way, "Right. Fine. The more the merrier, and all that, I guess."
"What's the plan?"
Eddie isn't sure what makes him ask the question, aside from the tension he can feel vibrating from Cami's frame as she stands beside him, because he knows she is trying like hell to keep all of that under wraps. He knows that, comparatively speaking, he has little to no say in how they proceed, given his ignorance of what they are dealing with on the whole. But Steve keeps looking at Cami as though he wants to say something else—anything else, aside from what they are discussing right now.
And for Cami's sake, if nothing else, Eddie isn't entirely inclined to allow that to happen.
"Well we need to see if this thing is still in the cellar, right?" Steve questions, not bothering to wait for any of his companions to answer in favor of going on, "So I'm thinking Henderson and I go down there—"
"Woah. Me? I'm not going down there!"
"It's your psychotic, mass-murdering pet, dude!"
"Yeah, well—someone has to stay back and make sure he doesn't get out if he eats you," Dustin protests, ignoring Steve's exasperated scoff, and turning to look to Eddie and Cami instead, as though hoping one of them will back him up, "Right, guys?"
"Cam and Eddie can do that, genius."
"Your sarcasm is not appreciated, King Steve."
"Yeah? Neither is that nickname," Steve hisses, already regretting allowing the kid to drag him into this, though all thought of that is rather quickly put aside when Cami is the one to step forward in Dustin's stead.
"I'll go."
"Hopper, c'mon," Eddie protests, already reaching for Cami to try to stop her, though she manages to evade that attempt by moving just a few steps ahead, "We talked about this—"
"And this isn't—it isn't that, Eddie. I'm not doing this part alone."
"Now tell me why that's not reassuring."
"Look, Steve and I—we've done this before," Cami presses, trying to ignore how the look Eddie is giving her is sending yet another knife of guilt lancing through her heart, "You and Dustin stay out here just in case. We'll—it'll be fine."
"With no gun?"
"Downgrade, remember? I've got the crowbar."
"Okay, we uh—if we're gonna do this, we kinda need to do it now," Steve advises, the sight of the familiar nail-studded bat resting against his shoulder granting Cami some small measure of resolve, even in spite of the way she cannot seem to avoid the sensation of Eddie's concerned gaze tracking her movements all the while, "You good, Cam?"
"Fucking peachy, Steve."
"Right. And that—crowbar you mentioned?"
"Still on the ground by the cellar."
Steve watches as Cami steps forward and stoops to pick up the makeshift weapon, pulling the key to unlock the cellar Dustin had given him moments before from his pocket at the exact same time. And as her knuckles whiten around the thing, he cannot help but wonder if there might be something more at play here, aside from just nerves over what they are preparing to face.
Something like what had almost happened between them at school—what went down with her and Hargrove—and the fact that she apparently had a front row seat to him showing up at Nancy's with roses not even twenty-four hours later.
"Cam, listen, I think we need to—talk."
"Unlock the cellar, Steve," Cami instructs, her grip on the crowbar tightening as every muscle she possesses ignites like a livewire, and goes suddenly—painfully—taut. Because she does not want to do this now. Maybe she doesn't actually want to do it later. Eddie and Dustin are a mere hairsbreadth away, clearly able to hear every word, and it is rather quickly becoming too much for her to bear…
Not that Steve seems to notice, a low grunt escaping him as he frees the key from the lock, and the chains Dustin had secured around the handles of the cellar doors slither free.
"Okay. It's unlocked. But in case either one of us, you know—actually dies down there, maybe—"
"If one of us dies, the other needs to focus on getting Eddie and Dustin the hell out of here. That is what is important right now. So are we doing this, or not?"
"Yeah. Yeah, fine, let's do it," Steve agrees, trying to ignore not only the venom behind Cami's words, but the suspicious glances Dustin and Eddie are leveling his way, as well, "I'll go first."
Stepping back so that Steve can be the first one down the cellar stairs, Cami swallows past whatever else she may be feeling, and tries her best to force herself to simply focus on the task at hand. She can still sense Eddie and Dustin watching. The sudden rush of a cool breeze causes goosebumps to break out against her skin.
But when Steve is just about to disappear from view, Cami follows his path on the steps, the crowbar held at the ready even as her eyes are forced to adjust to the growing darkness that surrounds her. She cannot hear a thing. Nothing, save for Steve's measured footsteps. Her own. The quiet sounds of their breathing.
A part of her wants to hope that if Dart were down here, there would definitely be a sound. Chittering. A growl. The scrape of a claw against cement at the very least. But as quickly as the thought comes to her mind, she realizes it is nowhere near the type of news that could truly be considered good.
Because if Dart isn't here—where the hell did he go?
And more importantly, how in the hell did he get out?
Regardless of the silence, though, Cami does not allow it to stop her from continuing on her way down the stairs. She does not allow it to distract her, because even the smallest amount of vulnerability could prove fatal if her suspicions are not, in fact, correct.
Rather, she continues on, the weight of the crowbar in her hands proving to be at least somewhat reassuring, until her feet clear the last of the steps, and she nearly collides with Steve's back as he reaches up to pull on the chain that will turn on the light hanging overhead.
"He's not—he isn't here," She murmurs, already turning in a slow half-circle, as though expecting Dart to come charging out from the shadows to take her down, "He—how is that—"
"You're sure you got him down here?"
"I was there, Steve. Dustin and I held the doors to keep him from escaping while we secured them with that chain you just unlocked, so yeah. I'm pretty—pretty damn sure."
"Okay. So he just—"
"Steve."
"Yeah?"
"There's something on the ground by your foot."
"Oh, gross, what the hell?" Steve exclaims, stooping to use the tip of the studded bat to prod at the object, and lifting it to the light quickly enough to cause Cami to skitter a few steps away as a result, "Is this—it's skin?"
"He molted again."
"What?"
Cami opens her mouth to explain, but finds that the words to do so never really come. Not when there is a knot of apprehension fighting its way up her throat along with the burn of bile. And certainly not when she can see something just at the outer edge of the ring of light provided by the dim bulb hanging above their heads.
Moving past Steve even in spite of how he reaches out to try to stop her, Cami approaches that something, the dread that has been eating away at her only growing more insistent the closer that she gets. And as soon as Steve shines the beam of his momentarily forgotten flashlight her way, she realizes exactly what it is that rests behind Dart's conspicuous absence.
A hole. Or rather, a tunnel, leading out from the wall of the cellar in a direction that is, as yet, unknown. Clearly, after molting, Dart had escaped. The tunnel appears to extend beneath at least part of Hawkins, and he could be anywhere, now.
Hardly aware of Steve coming to stand at her side, Cami gapes at the hole—at the tunnel beyond it—for another moment or two longer. And although she can practically sense Steve opening his mouth to speak, Cami turns to head back to the stairs before he can manage a single word, the need to get out of the cellar—to get to fresh air—suddenly more important than anything else.
This—all of it—is just one more end-result of a poor decision she is ultimately responsible for. And as Cami pushes her way past Dustin and Eddie, heedless of their stunned expressions as she staggers another few steps away before the contents of her stomach resurface against a clump of grass, she wonders.
When the hell is it ever going to end?
…
Hello angels! And welcome to a brand new chapter in Cami's sequel! As seems to be happening quite a bit here, lately, the muses went a bit rogue, here, and I hope you can all manage to enjoy at least some of the end result! I appear to have been caught up in a momentary detour, where I now find myself contemplating Cami and Eddie becoming a thing, rather than Cami and Steve. And I definitely don't want to disappoint anyone by going that way since I set out with the intent for this to be Cami and Steve all the way. (Perhaps she could have something with Eddie before Steve grows a little more? But then I feel like that cheapens poor Eddie, and he certainly does not deserve that). So I would be very, very interested in hearing your thoughts on the matter if you have any to share? As always, your time and efforts are very much appreciated!
My heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that have taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story thus far! And special thanks to Guest, Boris Yeltsin, and ChiTown4ever for leaving such lovely feedback the last time around! I truly do appreciate your support and I cannot wait to see what you think of this installment as well!
Until next time, dear ones!
MOMM