"Time travel is a philosophical concept, not a scientific one. It is, in fact, as has been pointed out, scientific nonsense."
"Yes, Ryan, we know you read books. Infinity of Mirrors." Joan mocked from behind her campaign notes and smirked at the giggle around the room. The boy only blushed bright red and sniffed. "There's a time travelling boss in my campaign, you gotta problem with that?"
"I just don't like it. It's not scientifically possible-"
"Dude, you're talking about a game that thrives off of make-believe, keyword: fantasy." Brynnyn interrupted with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "Just let the weird Whovian have her time travelling hard-on and just roll the freaking die."
"There is no difference between Time and any of the three dimensions of Space except that our consciousness moves along it." Bryan quoted quietly, playing with the 3D printed version of his character with his cheek on the table. Sighing he looked up at Ryan. "H.G. Wells. Time travel exists, just maybe not like how you and I think about it."
"One may never get to know how fast the time travels till the one gets in that position to race against the time." Kaleigh said softly, looking up at the ceiling. The candles made her look almost ominous and Joan had to force herself to look away, a dark shadow creeping up her spine at the haunted look in the blonde's eyes.
When Joan started to regain consciousness it was still dark and she tried to grab her face to figure out if her eyes were opening, but she was stopped by many different preventatives. Her ankles were tied behind her, her ankles also tied, and Joan found herself uncomfortably stuffed in one of the standing lockers gagged, blindfolded, and in so much pain.
God, her throat was on fire.
She went in and out of consciousness for God knows how long before what sounded like an explosion sounded and Joan jolted into the land of the living. Hearing voices Joan immediately starting banging around and screaming, trying to get out of this fucking torture.
"Do you guys hear that?"
"It's coming from the locker!"
"What if its..."
"Someone's tied up in there!"
"Oh shit."
"For the love of... Where are the bolt cutters?!"
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and Joan fell out without much grace and a sob left her lips when the blindfold was taken off and familiar faces entered her view.
"Oh my God, is that... Dustin's sister?!"
Max was the first to react and took the gag out of Joan's mouth before using the bolt cutters to cut off the rope around her ankles and wrist. Once freed, Joan grabbed the redhead by the shoulders and squeezed her tightly, thankful that they were now safe.
After a moment of losing it in front of her brother's friends, Joan pulled herself together and stood up with a wince, looking around at the damage with wide eyes. "I... I take it something happened."
All the middle schoolers looked between each other and then at Joan with wide eyes as she took in their beaten appearances. It was El's appearance who made Joan swallow and take a knee, looking at the bruising around the young girl's neck sadly.
El's eyes also went down to Joan's neck with equal sadness and laid a hand right underneath the bruising. "...He hurt you too."
"...I always knew he was a bit of a nutter." Joan croaked with a sad smile, giving the girl a hair ruffle and looking around the group feeling a balloon of panic growing in her stomach. "...Where's my brother?"
"Talking with Suzie o-or Steve." Mike said quickly while Joan got up and tried to massage feeling into her hands. "Do you have your car?"
"Uh, yeah, it's up front, why?"
And that's how Joan got roped into packing 5 of her brother/dad's best friends into her car and drove them to the Wheeler's, once again feeling almost nostalgic at the new home that would one day have yellow ceilings and lightly peeling wallpaper. They insisted that they were going to call the cops -Hopper- and that the Chief already knew what was going on.
Joan found a turtle neck in her car and threw it on while she sat in the kitchen alone with the Wheeler matriarch. It was awkward, so fucking awkward, because Agatha wasn't friends with Nancy Wheeler. In fact, she was almost positive that name came up frequently with the cheerleaders as someone who they didn't like and judging by Mama Wheeler's attempt to be cordial...
She knew.
So Joan tried to hide in the cup of tea gifted to her, wondering why she had to stay up here and not tell the adults anything while they spoke to the chief of police.
"Jo?" Mike's head popped up first from behind the doorway before his body followed and then Max came next. "Uh, it's, uh, it's Dustin."
"What about Dustin?" Joan asked slowly, setting the mug down and narrowing her eyes at the kid. He was fidgeting, flighty, and was very obviously lying. Mike was never good at lying at any point in his life she realized.
"H-he called on the radio, said he needs... uh, a thing for..."
"Oh my God, you're such an idiot." Max snapped, pushing Mike out the way and staring at Joan hurriedly. "Dustin needs a ride from the mall. Steve's car is broke or whatever, and he just needs you, okay?"
Joan stared at Max and Max stared back, something that made Joan miss Brynnyn so fucking much. The cheerleader and her mom were nearly the same person at that age, feisty and strong, and a pain went through heart.
"Shit, Jo. You're being a bitch! You're very obviously railroading us and you're getting angry at us for calling you out on it."
"Shut up, Brynnyn. You've never been a DM, so what do you know?"
"I know when you're being a bitch and playing puppet master! We either chill out or I'm going to kick the shit out of you."
"...I guess everyone should get their popcorn!"
Brynnyn was always ready to call her out, but also more than happy to fight alongside her when things weren't going right. They were close friends, nearly sisters, and it helped that their dads were also best friends - fighting together from the start. Tears started to well up in Joan's eyes at the familiar red hair and just how fucked up everything was.
She almost fucking died - possibly for the second time - and she had no one to talk to about it.
"R-right." Joan nodded quickly, grabbing her keys and quickly walking past the kids to hide how upset she was. Before she got to the door she took a heavy breath and looked back at Max seriously. "Channel 2."
"What?"
"...Dusty got me one for my birthday last year. I-it's in my trunk right now. If you need me, you know, uh, what to do." Joan said quietly before ripping the door open and running to her car as the tears started to fall. She missed her mom, she missed her dad, her aunts and uncles, her friends... the cruel torture of it all was they were all right here with her, but they weren't what she needed.
Her best friend was in some kind of abusive relationship that was already well-known and there was nothing she could do about it - what kind of best friend was she?! - and was basically sent to babysit her brother. She took a deep shaky breathe and started driving, trying to calm down to the supposedly soothing voice of Elvis Presley through her cassette.
Are you lonesome tonight?
Do you miss me tonight?
Are you sorry we drifted apart?
"Fuck!" Joan screamed out, immediately regretting it as a harsh pain dragged down her throat like swallowing knives. Enraged, Joan slammed open her console and searched for a different cassette tape to calm her down, ignoring the top ones used to hide her metal stash that fell onto the floor board. She picked a random one from deep within her console and sighed as the guitar and drums filled her ears.
Piledriver.
Not necessarily her go to band, but the angry sounds from the Canadian thrash metal was enough to calm down the electricity in her veins and make her feel like she was somewhat at home in her skin.
It was so tiring playing Agatha, but at the same time Joan found herself wondering if she was slowly becoming Agatha. She started to enjoy cheer, wanted to fit in, and honestly pink wasn't that bad of a color... but the president of Hellfire hadn't played DnD in over a month now and she had to hide her passions behind thinly veil interests.
Joan was starting to wonder who was Joan...
In her frustration, Joan didn't see the figure waving in front of her in the middle of the road, trying to get her attention until the very last second. With a loud gasp, Joan yanked the wheel left and pumped the breaks, avoiding the figure and coming to a screeching halt.
She gripped the wheel tightly, eyes wide and staring at the expanse of road and trees in front of her that so well defined Hawkins, and listened to the blaring sound of the weirdness that was angry Canadians in her ears.
The what if's started in her head again on a psychotic loop of what if that was Billy and now she was definitely about to die? What if she just kept driving? What if it was a psychotic maniac here to kill her or what if-
Joan jumped and screamed at the tap on her window and the voice that yelled over her music, looking out the window to see a familiar wide eyed face staring back at her. Quickly, Joan fumbled with her radio and turned it off, her chest nearly heaving to take in breaths.
Eddie. Eddie Munson.
Oh God, she was going to die.
Once again Eddie knocked on the window and motioned for her to bring it down. Slowly, Joan moved it a fourth of the way down and made no indication of going any further. Eddie quirked an eyebrow and rolled his eyes.
"My van crapped out. Think I could get a ride to the general store or at least a payphone?"
Joan bit her lip and thought about how Max had insisted Dustin had called for her, but their reactions very obviously told a different story. Dustin was probably fine and if he wasn't he could wait... but being alone with the freak?
"Y-yeah, sure." Joan swallowed thickly as Eddie's eyes lit up and ran over to the passenger side, nearly hopping over the hood of her car. Joan took a deep breath before leaning over and unlocking the door and Eddie wasted no time jumping in.
At first it was awkward, quiet, and Joan was drumming on her steering wheel the beat of the song that was just on in an attempt at keeping herself occupied.
"You got any music?"
"Music? Uh, yeah, uh..." Joan opened the console to showcase her cassettes, forgetting that all of her Agatha-music was on the ground. "I got some Elvis, Dolly Parton, maybe some Madonna or Kate Bush..." Eddie pulled out a cassette and Joan's eyes flickered over, reading the familiar album title and cringing. "I-I'm just holding that for a friend!"
"The Number of the Beast, Iron Maiden?" Eddie read off in disbelief, ignoring the hand that reached to snatch the tape away and quickly grabbed another. "Nazareth's Rampant? Black Sabbath? Deep Purple?" The jean-clad boy looked up at Joan with a barely hidden smirk. "I don't know who told you these were Elvis and Dolly Parton albums, but they were lyin' to you."
"T-they're not mine, seriously." Joan glanced over at Eddie and scowled at the very clear look of disbelief on his face. "Seriously!"
"Suuuuure..." Eddie dragged out, setting tapes away and looking at Joan. "So I suppose you were just blasting a pretty hardcore Dolly song before you ran me over 10 minutes ago?"
"Okay firstly, you're literally wearing black at night." Joan snapped and Eddie waved a hand in dismissal, much to Joan's anger. "Secondly, I told you they're not mine. I wasn't listening to any of that-that Devil worshipping music, okay?! It was probably one of my Elvis songs where he's playing the electric like, like Jail House Rock and you just got confused, because you were in the dark and-"
He's like a dog in heat, you're just another piece of -
Joan turned the volume all the way down, bumping hands with a smug Eddie who still had his finger on the power button. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, mentally preparing herself.
Fuck.