1986

Let it be known that Joan Destiny Henderson was dramatic to a fault and she knew where it came from. Her father had a dramatic yet sensible demeanor and her mom while kind wasn't one for such theatrics. She was always clinical and logic driven.

It was more so her grandmother who she got it from.

The moment Claudia had picked up the phone her heart had been pumping overtime because only one of her two offsprings were accounted for within the safe confines of her home. When her daughter's name came through on the receiver along with the words crime scene the woman was already frantically picking up her purse while a genuinely concerned Dustin stared at his mom.

"Mom? Mom! What's going on?"

The woman paused at the door, feeling a little bit guilty that in her rush she had forgotten about her youngest child. She swallowed and attempted to hide her nerves, but she already knew it would be a failure. Her son was scarily good at reading situations and it worried her enough that she could admit she wasn't present enough as she should be after finally leaving her husband... it was hard raising two children alone.

"It's your sister. She's... stuck and I need to go pick her."

Dustin eyes turned suspicious and concerned, she could see the gears turning in his head at the possible scenarios. "Why? What's wrong with her car? Is she okay? She never came home last night... was that her on the phone? Can I come?"

He was too smart for his own good and had a heart of gold for those around him. She was so proud of her boy.

"No, Dusty. Stay here and I'll be back in a bit. There's... there's nothing to worry about." The smile on her face was strong and Dustin relaxed only fractionally at the familiar hand in his hair. "Be good and watch Mews for me, okay?"

Dustin sat on the couch in the stillness of the living room, a feeling of shadow looming over him as his mind started to make conclusions he probably shouldn't. He hadn't even realized his mind had wondered so far until a ring at his doorbell led to a distraught Max in his living room.

"My sister saw what?!"

———————

The calm arms around her had Joan melting and she was thankful that the tears were all gone.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Claudia asked softly, hands on her daughters shoulders as she looked the girl over with a click of her tongue. "You haven't changed or had a shower... and you're telling me all you've had is a sandwich?!"

"I-it was ham and cheese." Joan provided weakly, hoping her mom would calm down so that she could get out of there quickly. Nancy had left a few minutes ago and Joan was itching to get away from thos place forever. "C-can we go, please? This place is making me..."

Sick. Angry. Fearful.

"Of course, sweetheart." Claudia nodded and removed herself, taking a moment to wipe the small tear at the corner of her eye with grace. "I've already talked to the officers and we can leave whenever... are you good to drive home?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm... I honestly kind of want to be alone." Joan admitted as she gripped her keys harshly to feel the metal bite into her skin. "I... I'll see you at home."

It would be a lie to say Joan was disappointed when she read the familiar chicken scratch on the kitchen counter that detailed Dustin and Max visiting Steve for a movie. She was really hoping to be able to suffocate the dork in a hug before explain what she had seen because she was sure if what she had seen was... of this world.

"That boy..." Claudia huffed worriedly as she hugged her cat to her chest and set down her glass of red wine. "He knows better than to worry his mother, with a murderer running wild too!"

Joan hummed in agreement and ignored the way her mom filled up the glass a second time as she headed to her room to clean up. It felt suffocating being in the house and her brain was starting to morph the hours together, the shower giving her time to process what she had seen... unsuccessfully.

She didn't bother with the hair curlers or pompous skin care activities, choosing instead to throw on a random t-shirt and a Notre Dame sweatshirt over it. Funny, even the fabric from the 80s felt different... more durable and it should feel comforting when in actuality it just served as one more reminder of her situation.

But she couldn't help but to snicker at the photo on her night stand, the one of her in that bright ugly yellow thigh high skirt, stripped shirt, long socks, boots, and jean jacket that had her screaming in laughter internally. She had never own something so brightly yellow before and she looked even more wild next to the grunge and chains of a grinning Eddie Munson.

The photo was a still frame memory of a moment in her history that nothing could taint. They had agreed to ride out to Indianapolis one weekend to sneak into a metal bar to listen to whatever cover band was on stage that night and Joan had forgotten who she was even though Eddie's eyebrows quirked in question. But the metalhead said nothing as he smirked and drove them to the big city.

She stood out in the yellow skirt amongst leather, chains, and dark tones. The realization had her red in the face while Eddie laughed loudly at her embarrassment, not even bothering to dodge the light smacks on his arm because he knew and chose not to say anything.

"Why would I want you to change who you are, princess?"

But what was she?

Was the yellow skirt her or was she a jeans girl?

Band shirts or blouses?

Heels or boots?

The night had dissolved into one of the best nights in her life. With the live music and warm bodies all around her Joan allowed herself to forget July, the 21st century, and the loss of Heather. She pretended like she was normal and that this was her last night, pointer and pinky finger up in the sign of the horns, and rocking her hair back and forth next to Eddie the freak Munson.

She giggled at the boy as his eyes lit up at a cover of Dio and watched as he rushed to the middle of the dance floor joining in the mosh pit that formed under the near hypnotic voice of a red faced 20 year old on stage gripping the microphone. He had come back to her with happiness in his eyes and Joan felt herself swoon.

"This... next year, after graduation Corroded Coffin we're gonna come here. Get out of The Hideout and maybe... maybe we'll get our name out there, man."

"You've got the talent."

"I can feel it, Joan. 86? That's my year, baby."

Joan sighed reverently at the memory. His eyes had been unguarded and light as he stared hopeful at the stage, a beer in his hand. Those brown eyes were wide and delicate, the doorways to a kind soul dealt a shitty hand at no fault of his own.

Was Eddie really capable of murder?

The crushed body of Chrissy Cunningham filled her brain unhealthily and Joan blanched, picking up the photo shakily and went to shove it in the trash but...

A note fell out from underneath the Polaroid and Joan had barely finished it before she was throwing on a pair of jeans and rushing out.

Before she left her room, she grabbed the photo of her and Eddie, and headed over to the piano. Her mom was knocked out on the couch, a little bit of wine left both the bottle and cup, and her cat bustled in her arms narrowing it's eyes at Joan.

She locked the photo up with other paraphernalia from her time including the familiar journal, eyebrow raised in challenge at the cat as she hid the piano key behind the Honeywell thermostat cover.

Ignoring the evil eyes on her, Joan lightly nudged her mother awake and whispered some excuse about going to pick up Dustin and Joan wasn't even surprised at the lack of response. A nod, hum, love you, and she was back to sleep.

It was strange how lackadaisical the parents of the 80s were considering she had just been at a crime scene with a dead body.

The familiar sound of Lemmy had Joan releasing a slow breath of stress as she drove away from the house, the note Max had left her crumpled in her pocket. Even though she relaxed she still felt like her heart raced.

Joan

We're looking for him.

Bringing Dustin's mom.

Max

It was obvious, but the message was clever and had Joan snickering at the implication of Steve being their mother. He did act rather hen-ish with children, didn't he?

But the concern that her brother was searching for a possible murder had her beyond the edge of worried. Not even the style of Motörhead could ease her troubles as the dampness of her hair dropped onto the Notre Dame sweatshirt she got during an orientation.

Her eyes scanned the parking lot for any weird hallucinations before she entered the video store, only briefly glancing at the music store and record shop in familiarity. Both would still be in the small town decades later, but the records would be swapped with CDs and games turning into more of pop culture store than a record shop.

The cheap bells alerted the four in the store to her prescience and Joan wasted no time as she narrowed her eyes at her little brother and crossed her arms.

"Dustin Henderson, are you currently searching for a murder suspect out on the loose?!"

"No." Dustin shook his and swallowed at the vengeful look on his sister. "We're just, uh, looking for... Eddie." The name came out like quiet squeak from a mouse as he scratched the back of his head. "And well... we kinda found him."

Joan pinched between her brow and massaged the bone structure for a few seconds as the headache from the past 24 hours set in. She looked over st Steve who tried to look busy reading the back of a movie casing. "How come whenever there's something going on you're involved?"

"M-me?!" Steve stammered out in disbelief at the accusation. "He comes to me! Not the other way 'round, Ags. Serious."

"...uh huh." Her face didn't hide her disbelief and annoyance, before it broke down into a sigh and she walked up to the counter to lean against it. "Look, all things aside I think... You guys, I don't think this is normal murdering."

"It never is in Hawkins, is it?" Robin mumbled out with a sigh of her own. "Like, it couldn't be a normal serial killer going after teenage kids with a large steak knife or chainsaw, could it?"

"I-I don't think that's the point, Rob." Steve said slowly before shaking his head to get the statement out. "Anyways, what do you mean?"

Reliving the past was brutal and it was something she had to do every day in this life because her past was their future. To look at the people before her so young and so... burdened made Joan swallow back tears as she described what she had seen that night.

All the way from Chrissy at lunch to the picnic table to her body sprawled out in Eddie's trailer while leaving out the dizzying spell and hallucination that had hit her. There was no time for tears anymore but each letter had her feeling increasingly tired and she longed for a nap filled in her own bed back at home.

With a new determination in his eyes, Dustin swung himself back to the TV and wrote down hastily the address on screen over a napkin. When he was done he slammed it on the counter that separated everyone with a seriousness too big for a young kid.

"We gotta go. Someone in the party needs us."

"Oh, God." Was all Joan could moan out with her head in her hands at the prospect of another monster chase.

Whatever happened to the dull, boring town of Hawkins?