A/N — hello and welcome :) first of all, thank you for checking out this fic! I'm very excited about this as I have heaps and heaps of ideas and plans for this story, hopefully which some of you will like! A little bit of information before reading: this is a Billy/OC fic at its core. However, because of the nature of this story, there will be some chapters before Billy gets introduced, because our main character has had part in the events of season 1. Now, I will be going through season 1 in the first few chapters, but it will be slightly higher paced and more condensed than season 2 and onwards—when Billy gets introduced. Please keep that in mind when reading if it feels a little high paced. I think that is all for now, so sit back, relax and enjoy! Don't forget to leave a review with any questions or comments you have, I'd be happy to reply to them!
Waking up to the violent cries of my alarm clock was definitely going to be the worst part of my day, as it usually was. I slammed my hand on the button on top of the clock and the beeping ceased, a peaceful silence coming over my bedroom again. I let out a long sigh before getting up from my bed and stumbling out of my room to the small bathroom I shared with my brothers and mother. After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I exited the bathroom, one towel wrapped around my body and one around my head, and I darted back into my room to get dressed.
"Morning," I muttered when I walked into the kitchen and spotted my brother cooking breakfast.
"Good morning," Jonathan answered, not looking up from the frying pan he was scrambling eggs in.
"Smells good," I said as I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a mug. I filled it to the brim and lifted it up to take a sip, spilling a little bit onto my cheerleading shirt and I hummed in annoyance as I let the hot liquid go down my throat, burning it a little bit.
"Shit," I sighed, just when someone else entered the kitchen.
"Language, Lori," my mom told me unconvincingly as she was clearly distracted by something else.
"Has anyone seen my keys?" she asked, moving things around the counter top in search of her car keys.
"Nope," I sighed as I walked back to my bedroom to grab a clean shirt—thank god I had multiple uniforms. I pulled the stained shirt over my head and tossed it onto my bed before grabbing a fresh one from the top of the pile in my dresser and putting it on. I'd always admired the girls in my year and their fashion sense, and maybe in a different life I would have been more into fashion, but it had never been at the top of my priority list. There never was money to follow the latest trends anyway, so it was probably better not to get too interested in it to avoid the disappointment of not being able to afford any of the clothes I'd like. Becoming a cheerleader had been a blessing in the sense that now I had an excuse as to not having to wear cool clothes to school, I just wore my uniform.
"Where the hell are they?" I heard my mom exclaim as I exited my room again, and I Scoffed.
"Language, mom," I teased, earning a soft chuckle from Jonathan.
"Jonathan?" our mother insisted, and Jonathan tossed a waffle on each of the three plates he was preparing.
"I don't know, check the couch?" he suggested.
"I did!" mom's voice rang from the living room, only to be followed by a softer "got them," a few seconds later. I smiled widely when Jonathan placed the plate of eggs and waffles in front of me and I grabbed the bottle of maple syrup that was on the table, ready to load up my waffle with the sugary goodness.
"Alright, see you tonight," mom said as she ran a hand through my still damp hair and squeezed Jonathan's shoulder, before stopping in her tracks.
"Where's Will?"
I took a big bite of my waffle, savouring the taste as I tuned out the conversation my mother and brother were having. I had other things on my mind, like going over the routine we were supposed to practice after school that afternoon. It had been the most complicated routine she'd had to learn since joining the cheerleading squad and I could not afford to make any mistakes. At our last practice session, the captain had made it very clear that whoever was the first one to mess up, would be kicked off the squad, and there was no way that was going to be me.
I was disturbed from my thoughts only when I heard my name being called and became aware of the two pairs of eyes fixed on me. "Huh?" I said, my mouth still full with waffle.
"I said, I asked you to stay in because I had to cover a shift at work, but you wouldn't-"
"Because I have a life too, Jonathan," I immediately replied, "I already told you yesterday morning, I was at the lake and after that some of the other cheerleaders and I had a practice session I couldn't miss. What does it matter anyway?" I asked, annoyed as I ripped off another piece of waffle with my fork and stabbed it.
"Did you see Will last night when you came home?" mom asked, her voice laced with tension. It was only now that I realised that my younger brother wasn't present.
"No, I went straight to my room…" I said, lowering my fork.
"Guys, we've gone over this a thousand times, when I'm working one of you has to be here to look after Will, I don't care which one of you it is."
"But I thought we could use the extra cash. He was at the Wheeler's all day, he probably just stayed over," Jonathan started, at the same time as I said "But I had made those plans days ago, I'm not just going to drop everything because Jonathan decides to go to work at the last second," the two sentences completely drowning each other out.
"I can't believe you two sometimes," mom said as she stalked to the phone and started dialling a number. I sighed and looked up at my brother who shrugged down at me and I rolled my eyes, finally shoving the piece of waffle in my mouth.
"You could help out more, you know," Jonathan said, still standing by the chair he usually sat at, eyeing his mom who was now on the phone with Karen Wheeler.
"What is that supposed to mean," I spat back at him, making our mom turn to us and giving us a frustrated shush.
"You're the one without a job, the least you could do is watch Will whenever I can't," Jonathan said, his voice lower than before.
"And I do, when I don't have plans," I told him, throwing my fork on the table in annoyance. Jonathan was about to argue with me more when we both caught our mom's next words.
"Um, you know what, I think he just left early for school. Thank you so much. Bye." Mom hung up the phone and looked at us, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the kitchen as an unsettling feeling grew in my stomach. Something told me Will had not left early to go to school.
The day passed by in a blur. Jonathan, mom and I traveled all around Hawkins trying to find Will, even in the woods just in case he was in his self made Castle Byers. The uneasy feeling in my stomach had grown by the second, guilt gradually building up until I couldn't take it anymore and I kicked the trash can outside our house when we got back.
"Lori," Jonathan said, stepping back into the door opening after he had heard the commotion from outside. "We'll find him," he said, eyeing me worriedly.
"I know," I said, which was a lie. I was hoping we would, more than anything. But the feeling in my stomach told me it wasn't going to be that easy.
Jim Hopper came by the house in the evening. When he hauled Will's bike out of the back of his truck, my mouth went dry. All kinds of scenarios went through my mind, every one worse than the one before, and I had to force myself from spiraling and assuming the worst. The only consolation was that Hopper said there hadn't been any blood on the bike. I allowed myself the comfort of believing Will wasn't harmed.
People were supportive—search parties were started and the occasional person would express their concern and tell me if there was anything they could do, I should tell them. Bullshit, of course, people just said that to be polite. At the end of the day, they would go home and go to sleep in their warm beds without giving the whole matter another single thought. We were making a missing poster in the middle of the night, our eyes red from worry and exhaustion.
I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of my hand, the pungent smell of the permanent marker entering my lungs with each breath I took. "Here," I said, picking up the poster and holding it out to Joyce, who took it and smiled.
"You've always had the neatest handwriting in this household," she said, very obviously trying to keep her voice steady. I couldn't bring myself to crack even a small smile at her. We found a good picture of Will, I couldn't look at it for too long or I was afraid I would start crying again. I had done so. much. crying. in the past 24 hours it had given me a headache. I decided I wasn't going to cry anymore, simply because of the fact it was exhausting and there were better things for me to focus my attention on.
I walked to the kitchen to get us something to drink. I couldn't remember the last time I ate something, or seeing my mom or brother doing so for that matter, and I wasn't sure if I was even able to, but the least I could do was drink some water. I heard Jonathan and mom talk from the couch in the living room, my stomach tightening when I heard both their voices break. I could barely make out what they were saying, but I knew exactly what it was about. I was feeling it too. The guilt eating away at me, the thought that if I had been there, maybe I would have been there when Will came home and could have prevented whatever had happened that night.
"You can't do that to yourself," I heard mom tell Jonathan, whose soft sobs made my stomach clench. Everyone was in so much pain and I felt like I could feel all of it at the same time.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I lifted my hand, running it over my clammy skin. Something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it, it was a strange kind of static that crept all over my body, under my clothes and seeped into my skin. Not a second later the phone rang, and I almost dropped the glass of water I was holding in my hand. Mom jumped up and hurried over to the phone. It was probably Hopper with yet another update that they hadn't found any leads while they were out searching for Will.
"Hello?" I heard her say and I walked by her, bringing two glasses of water to the living room and handing one over to Jonathan, who whispered a strained "thank you".
"Will!?" Joyce pleaded over the phone, making both Jonathan and I whip our heads around to look at her.
"Will, is that you?" Mom begged, and Jonathan and I couldn't walk over to her fast enough. My heart raced in my chest, the sadness of earlier quickly turning into hope. This was the first time we had heard from Will since he had gone missing, and the fact that he was calling meant that he was okay, right?
"Who is this? What have you done to my boy?" Joyce demanded, her tone getting more desperate and angry, and the hope I felt quickly fizzled out as soon as it had come. The feeling that had overcome me earlier became more intense, my skin now tingling, almost painfully so, but I hardly cared.
"What have you done with my boy?!" mom demanded again, right before there was a loud bang and a flash of light and she let go of the phone, which clattered against the wall, hanging from the cord.
Mom broke down in tears and I stepped up to her, putting my hands on her shoulders as she cried.
"Mom! Did you talk to Will? What did he say?" I asked, not able to keep my voice steady anymore as it broke. Jonathan grabbed the phone and was trying to get a hold of whoever had been calling, but it seemed like the line had gone dead.
"It was Will!" mom said between sobs, barely able to keep standing on her feet and I wrapped my arms around her, supporting her and hugging her at the same time as we both cried. So much for not crying anymore.
"Did he say anything about where he was? Is he okay? Why did they take him?" I demanded, unable to keep myself from rambling on.
"I don't know, they didn't say anything," Joyce cried, and Jonathan joined us in the hug as we tried to get our bearings after the unexpected encounter.
I couldn't sleep that night.
The next day, Jonathan and I went around town to hang up the missing person posters. We made stops at both the middle and high school, the library, the arcade, the movie theater, the grocery store—anywhere a lot of people came around every day. Jonathan had dropped me off at home to make sure mom was doing okay—we were both pretty worried about her—before he set out to visit our dad. I didn't believe Will was there, but we both knew that if he didn't make sure, there would always be a small part of us wondering "what if".
"Mom, you have to eat something," I said softly as I eyed Joyce, who hadn't touched the toasted waffle I had put in front of her over ten minutes ago.
"I know, sweetie, thank you," she said absentmindedly, but I knew she most likely still wouldn't eat. She had gotten a new phone earlier that afternoon while I was out with Jonathan, and when I came home she was sitting in a chair by the phone. It had been over an hour now and she hadn't moved an inch.
I was getting anxious, sitting around and not doing anything while everyone else was out looking for Will. I got up from the couch and grabbed my shoes, making mom look up at me.
"Where are you going?" she asked in a frazzled tone.
"I'm just going back to the woods and look around some more," I said as I stuffed my foot inside one of the shoes, and then the other.
"Okay," she answered softly. "I'll be back before dark," I said as I walked over to her and kissed the top of her head. "Eat, please," I said as I walked to the front door, before opening it and stepping outside.
It was a short fifteen minute walk to the woods, specifically where Castle Byers was located. I was about to pull the sheet covering the entrance to the side, but stopped before doing so and rang the silent bell instead. I waited a few seconds before mumbling a soft "Radagast", then entered the hut. It was empty, unsurprisingly, but I was still disappointed. I knew it was impossible, but a part of me had still hoped Will would have been there, alive and unharmed, ready to be taken home.
I sat down on the cushioned wooden pellet and took a deep breath. "Where are you, Will," I muttered under my breath, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. My gaze slowly scanned the small space, stopping when I spotted a comic book on the floor. I picked it up and opened it, slowly flicking through the pages. It was the comic I had given him for his last birthday, and clearly he had been truthful when he told me it had been the best gift he had gotten that year. The pages were weathered, clearly turned over and over again. He must have known the whole thing by heart by now.
Tears welled up in my eyes but I managed to smile as well at the memory of Will's happy face beaming up at me when he had unwrapped the gift. All I wanted was to see that happy face again, to hug him and for everything to go back to normal. I silently cursed myself for the millionth time for choosing something as stupid as cheerleading practice over staying home for Will. Of course it was easy to do so in hindsight, but I made a mental note that if things were ever going to go back to normal, I would know where my priorities lay.
I wiped a stray tear off my cheek and put the comic book back down before getting back up to my feet. I was about to leave the hut, when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was the same feeling I had gotten last night, right before the phone had rang. I frowned, looking around. There was nothing electrical out here, obviously, so it couldn't be any static from phone lines or even a radio.
"W-Will?" I said in barely more than a whisper. I felt silly saying his name out loud, as if there was any way he could hear me. But something inside me, an instinctive feeling I couldn't place, told me that what I was feeling, this presence or energy, was somehow linked to him.
A strange feeling crawled along my skin, making me shiver. "Will, is that you?" I continued, my body completely frozen to make as little sounds as possible. I felt something brush against my hand—although that wasn't exactly what the sensation felt like. It was almost like a soft gust of wind, wrapping itself around my fingers. "Lori," I heard someone whisper, and I gasped, pulling my hand back and quickly looking down. Nobody was there, but I recognized that voice.
"Will?!" I breathed, now stepping out of the hut and looking around frantically. "Will!" I yelled, knowing I wasn't going to get an answer. I had imagined it, there was no other explanation. I was running on practically no sleep, I was worried about my missing brother, it wasn't rocket science. I felt like I was starting to lose my mind, and I ran my hands over my face. I had to pull myself together. There was nothing I could do to help if I went off the deep end, something that I feared was slowly but surely happening to mom already. I couldn't afford to lose my wits, too.
I didn't tell mom about what happened in the woods. I could hardly make heads or tails of it myself, let alone having to explain it to her. I was afraid that if I did, she would want to go out to the woods herself and not leave anymore. I should have known better than to assume I could keep it from Jonathan, however. It was impossible to keep things from each other—we always knew when something was up.
"Come on, Lori, talk to me. I know something happened. Does it have to do with Will, did you hear anything?" he asked after he had gotten home from school the next day. He hadn't gone to class but he said he had wanted to develop some photographs he had taken at the site where they found Will's bike.
"It's nothing, okay, it's…it's stupid," I said as I poured both of us a mug of coffee.
"Nothing is stupid at this point, come on. Tell me," he insisted, leaning his hand on the kitchen counter and leaning down slightly to make eye contact. I lowered the coffee pot with a sigh and met his gaze. "I…this sounds ridiculous, okay? I know it does, but… when I was out in the woods yesterday, at Castle Byers, I… I thought I heard something," I started, chewing on my bottom lip nervously.
"Heard what? Heard what, Lori?" Jonathan insisted after a few seconds of silence. I looked down at the counter and picked up one of the mugs with a light tremble in my hand. I took a sip and savored the bitter flavour coating my tastebuds. "I heard Will," I said then, unable to meet Jonathan's gaze.
"I heard him say my name, a-and…" I said, pausing slightly. "And I felt something take my hand."
Jonathan was silent for a few seconds and I could see his thoughts racing behind his eyes. "What do you mean, you heard him?" he eventually asked.
"I mean, I heard him say my name, I don't know how else to explain it," I said and I watched Jonathan sigh and run his hands through his hair. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, okay?" I started, when he interrupted me.
"Yeah, it does, and I can't afford you to start hearing and seeing things too, Lori," he said before gesturing up to the Christmas lights mom had hung all around the house. "It's hard enough as it is to keep mom from losing her mind, I need you to back me up on this," he said, pacing around the kitchen. I put the mug down and turned to him.
"I'm not losing my mind, I know Will wasn't actually there, but I felt something-"
"What, you felt him take your hand? So what, he is a ghost now? Or invisible? Come on, Lo," he pleaded.
"I don't know okay, I'm just telling you what happened because you asked," I answered shortly, also getting frustrated at this point. "It wasn't just that, though. I felt this…this energy. I felt it all over my body, I felt it last night too when that call came in," I said, as if that made things more logical. It didn't, I knew that, but I was starting to think that there was no logical explanation for what was happening in the first place. Jonathan let out a sigh and we stood in silence for a while, until he moved to grab his jacket and car keys.
"Hey, where are you going? Have some coffee, at least," I called after him.
"I'll be back later," Jonathan answered before heading out the door and pulling it closed behind him. I let out a long sigh and sank down to the kitchen floor. I sat there for a while—maybe ten minutes, maybe 30, maybe longer, until I couldn't feel my butt anymore and I finally got up again. There was no use sitting here, so I did the only thing I knew would at least appease my uncomfortableness. I went back out to the woods to look for Will.
I ended up at Castle Byers again and sat there, reading some of the comics that Will kept there. I had never been interested in comic books or video games, so that wasn't something he and I had ever bonded over. Will and Jonathan usually spent time together listening to music. Will and I bonded over art. Where Will liked to draw, I liked to paint. Sometimes we would sit together and work on our own projects in silence, showing off our finished products to each other and helping each other out when we were in a creative rut. Thinking back to those carefree afternoons we would spend together, I hated how I had taken those for granted. Again, it was easy to say that in hindsight, but I knew I was never going to do so anymore. From now on, I would appreciate the little things. With Will after we'd find him, with Jonathan whenever we would go for rides in his car or watch movies together, with mom whenever she wasn't working and we could have meals together. I would savour all of it.
When m6 legs had gone numb from sitting for too long, I exited Castle Byers, not having realised it had gone completely dark out already. It felt as if I spent all my time out here in the woods now, but I couldn't stay at home and sit there. It was understandable that mom did—in case anyone called or even if Will somehow turned up at the house. Somehow being here made me feel closest to Will as I could get, and at the extremely small chance he would turn up here, there would at least be someone waiting for him.
I started walking back home, slowly since my legs were still half asleep, when slowly but surely, the sound of police sirens became louder and louder. I stopped dead in my tracks and tried to pinpoint the direction in which the sirens were coming from. More sirens—fire trucks—came into earshot as well, and before I knew what I was doing, I was running. I stumbled clumsily through the forest, my legs quickly having to adjust to the sudden change in pace, but I didn't slow down. It had to be Will, they had to have found something, something big, something breaking. I didn't let myself think about what it could be as I ran, letting the sting in my lungs and the cramp in my side take over my senses rather than letting my thoughts go wild.
I came to a halt at the quarry, when the fire trucks and police cars came into view, the sirens off but the lights still flashing. I spotted Jim Hopper and a few other cops by their cars, watching as a group of firefighters were waist deep in the lake, pulling something out of the black water. I couldn't take my eyes off of the scene in front of me. The small frame being pulled onto a stretcher, the red bodywarmer I had seen hanging from the coat rack every day sticking out like a sore thumb. I sank to my knees, the gravel biting through my jeans and digging into my skin, but I hardly felt it. My eyes welled up with tears and my nose stung. I started to shake and I had to put my hands on the ground to keep myself from completely toppling over as I stared at the firemen pulling the stretcher onto dry ground. My ears were ringing as one phrase kept echoing through my head, over and over again.
Will was dead.