When Joan woke up the first thing that hit her was the headache.

The second thing was the blinding realization that oh my god she's alive followed by a spaz-attack where she grabbed every part of her body and then finished at her throat, sighing a relief that she was fully intact and fell back on the grassy ground to calm down with the warmth of the sun on her skin.

Only to sit back up again in a panic.

Joan was almost positive that Hawkins had been nearing winter when she had last been awake with crunchy leaves already on the ground and dozens of assignments piling up amongst her classes. Anxiously, the girl stood up and brushed off her skirt, scowling that of all the days for something weird to go down she had to look so stupidly proper.

"Joan? Joan?!"

"Grandma?" Joan asked in confusion looking behind her at the voice and pushing herself off the ground to trek over. The familiar home from the 70's on a hill filled her vision within a few seconds and she frowned, pausing with a weird feeling crawling up her back. "Where are her roses...?"

The screened back door quickly slammed open and Joan's eyes widened in shock at the woman who eyed her in relief. "Oh, good heavens Joan! You gave me a scare. You know I don't like you hanging in those woods alone."

Her mouth bobbed open and closed, but Joan could speak no words. The woman in front of her looked just like her dad's mom but from, like, 30 years ago!

"O-oh, what the fuck." Joan whispered in horror, taking a step back and looking at her grandma stare at her in concern. "T-this is really trippy."

"Joan Henderson, are you high right now?!"

"Woah, Joan's high? I want to see, I want to see!" Out from behind Joan's grandma pushed out a face that Joan had only seen in pictures. A chubby face and curly hair that she was always envious of and mischievous eyes that never changed throughout the decades...

"Dad?!"

There was a silence at the exclamation and the two familiar yet unfamiliar Henderson's stared wide eyed at the teen girl as if she had sprouted wings ands started flying. Dustin, her dad, broke first as a wide grin filled his face and he pointed over at the girl.

"Holy shit, you're high as a fucking kite, Jo'!"

"What the fuck, no I'm not!"

"Uh, yeah the fuck you are!"

"Dustin Joseph Henderson and Joan Agatha Henderson!" The matriarch screeched out, appalled at the language and behavior from the two teens. Both of them flinched at the sound and looked back at the woman apologetically.

"S-sorry, mom."

"Sorry, uh-?" Joan trailed off, unsure what to say because there was no way in hell this was her dad... at least not yet, right? What the fuck was going on?!

"You two... I swear..." Mrs. Henderson huffed angrily, pointing inside with a manicure finger and glaring at both teens harshly. "Inside, both of you. Dinner is ready and the table is set..."

Joan followed Dustin inside hesitantly, quickly catching up to her dad(?) who nudged her as soon as they were inside and away from the woman. She frowned down at the mischievous grin, not sure what he was up to. What was she supposed to call him?! "What... do you want?"

"Was it weed?"

"What?"

"Did you smoke weed?" Dustin asked again, this time finishing his sentence by grabbing a fistful of the girl's cardigan and pulling it to his nose with a rather aggressive sniff. He frowned, looking at the fabric in confusion. "You don't smell like weed..." He went in for another sniff, but the fabric was ripped from his grip by a scowling Joan.

"Jesus- stop that!" Joan hissed out, pushing her -whoever the fuck he was- away from her. Whoever this kid was to her... he was not her dad and she didn't care if it was the Queen as a kid... all kids were little shits. "What grade are you in again, third?!"

"Eighth, actually." Dustin responded matter-of-factly with a little lisp, unbothered by the act of aggression and rolling his eyes at the question. Joan nodded, storing the information in her head for later while wiping her nose with her sleeve.

Dustin frowned, stopping in front of his usual chair at the table and staring over at Joan with narrowed eyes, examining her with a wickedly familiar gaze that she'd get whenever her dad was deep in thought, before gasping in horror.

"What?! Is there a spider or something?!"

"Cocaine!"

"What?!" Joan cried out in shock, pausing her search to stare across the table incredulously at the little shit that would one day be her dad. "Cocaine?!"

"Oh sweet Jesus, my sisters a drug addict." Dustin's eyes were still wide, but his voice was even as he grabbed his head and shook it in disbelief. "I shouldn't be shocked, but I am. Why am I shocked?"

"Why are you-?! Shouldn't be shocked? Sister-?!" Joan's brain whirled around quickly, the new information almost overwhelming her as the word sister bounced around in here mind and she stared at her brother? Dad didn't have a sister... right? "Hold on.. drug addict?!"

"And she's still denying that she has a problem... this is an absolute tragedy equivalent to Hamlet."

"Hold on, pause, back it up... what did you just say?"

Dustin cleared his throat and raised his voice, slowing his words down to a point where Joan's eye twitched in annoyance. "You... are... sad... like... Hamlet... which is a play about-."

"Yes, I know what Hamlet is about!"

"Brevity is the soul of wit." Dustin responded with a shrug of his shoulders and Joan scowled, her fist clenching in anger.

"Did you just call me stupid?! From a Shakespeare play?!"

"No, I said-"

"Enough you two." Their mother snapped as she joined the table and patted the wooden surface. Both teens immediately shut their mouths and looked at each other, slowly taking their seats and silently passed the food around.

Joan stole glances at her... brother-dad? she winced at the title, trying to rid herself of the thought as a distant tune of Sweet Home Alabama played in her mind. God, what did Kaleigh do to her? She paused her scooping of carrots in horror as she thought about the fate of the others that were with her.

Did they escape? Were they here with her? Were her children okay?!

"Joan!" Joan jolted up in her seat at the call of her name, snapping over with wide eyes to look at her suspicious, yet worried mother staring at her. "Are you going to pass the carrots or continue staring at them like they're going to jump out at you and eat your face?"

The teen swallowed thickly and passed the carrots in response, her mother's frown deepening and her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure you're not under the influence, Joan because I swear-!"

"She hath more hair than wit." Dustin snickered under his breathe as he scooped a spoonful of food into his mouth and stared over at his sister with dancing eyes. His joy didn't last for too long as a kick to his legs caused him to wince and let out a painful, "Oh, shit!"

"I'll beat thee, but I would infect my hands." Joan hissed out, causing Dustin to look over at his sister with a snarky grin.

"I told you you were a nerd too!"

A nerd, too?!

"What does that mean, you twerp?!"

Dustin waved his hands in the air mockingly, his voice going up a horrendous amount of octaves to imitate Joan's voice. "Oh look at me, I'm Joan Henderson. I'm a cheerleader and I'm too cool to do D anymore. Instead I wave pompoms and pretend like I don't have Lord of the Rings quotes all over my walls. And apparently do drugs! Bleh bleh."

"I'm not a vampire you dork." Joan snorted, even though the imitation was supposed to be an insult, it was hilarious to watch a young version of her dad pretend to be a cheerleader. Plus, it gave her much need information about who his sister was... who she was? "What was the bleh bleh for?"

"You know, when you guys have the dumb shaky things and go bleh bleh before you guys turn into violent monsters, and suck the life and fun out of everyone."

"That's kind of... violent."

"Well, cheerleaders are a different species."

Joan's head shot back as she let out a huge laugh, thinking about what Brynnyn would say to that comment. The brunette agree full heartedly, but the raven-haired girl would have shot out of her seat to passionately rant about the sport of cheerleading.

"Alright you two, settle down and finish your dinner." Their mother rolled her eyes fondly, enjoying the light atmosphere with a smile on her face. "Joan, honey, would you make sure to get a new bag of cat food from the garage?"

"Why can't Dustin do it?" Because I have no idea where it would be!

"Because its Dusty's turn to do dishes."

"Oh, come on!" Dustin wined loudly, hitting his head on the table in disappointment. The boy was quickly reprimanded and then the dinner table was relatively calm and relaxed while Joan tried not let herself freak out on the outside as much as was on the inside.

Each question she asked was crafted to get as much information out as possible, disguised as lightly versed insults, concerned daughter, and/or genuinely curious. It was hard, so when Joan made it to the garage alone with the door shut, she lifted a hand over her pounding heart and swallowed thickly.

"To recap." She started slowly while pacing behind her mother's car in tune with the racing thump thump thump inside her chest. "I am Joan Agatha Henderson. Not Joan Destiny Henderson. My brother is now my dad and is significantly younger... my mother is my grandmother. I've travelled in time somehow to Hawkins in the 80's back when all that shit went down."

A pause. Joan's face went white at another terrible feeling.

Her dad never mentioned a sister. Her grandmother never mentioned a daughter. Joan was named Joan after someone significant in her dad's childhood, but that was all the information she was given to the point she was almost positive she was named after Joan Jett.

Worst of all she was a cheerleader, a species she was unfamiliar with besides her interactions with Brynnyn who if it wasn't for her talents would probably not be on the team for social reasons alone.

"I'm going crazy." Joan decided with a nod, looking over the shelves for the cat food. "I fell asleep drink chocolate milk again. There's no way I'm actually here in the 80's with my dad for a brother and possibly possessing a body that isn't mine."

The nail in the coffin was the moment Joan stepped into her bedroom she was going to be sick. The walls were a Pepto Bismal disaster with posters of artists she didn't know and Polaroids of people that she didn't recognize. Glancing over at the only familiar decorations being the aforementioned book quotes, she walked over to her desk to see if there were any more clues on who Joan Agatha Henderson was. Swallowing thickly, Joan grabbed a lose Polaroid on her desk and stared at the cheek-kissed individual, her stomach dropped and eyes widened comically at the image.

Oh my God, was that her and Uncle Steve?!