Hey all! Welcome to my fic!
I've been working on this for a while, but decided to edit/rewrite some chapters, just to fix up any lingering mistakes. I'm sure there's still some I missed, but "c'est la vie."
Basic premise for newcomers: This is an AU Steve Harrington/OC pairing. There's some Billy Hargrove with the same OC, but they are not endgame in this fic. Veronica is Dustin's older sister and Jonathan's best friend. She's relatively close to Barb and is friendly with Nancy - they get closer as the story progresses. This fic will follow canon up until season 3. For season 4, I'm veering away a little bit. There will still be some aspects of the season 4, but I've got my own plans.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. As always, I only own my OC.
I walk through my front door and close it behind me with my back, locking it without looking. Despite it being a school night, I asked for a longer shift at my job at Hunting & Camping. Christmas is coming up in a couple of months, and my brother's been eyeing a new telescope.
My mom sits on her cushioned chair, watching TV and petting her cat, Mews. The cat hisses at me, and I hiss back, but thankfully my mom is too enthralled by the soap she's watching to pay attention to her two fighting babies. So I drop my keys in the bowl by the front door and walk up to her, booping Mews on the nose and laughing when he goes a little cross-eyed and huffy. My mom finally realizes I'm home and smiles that warm, loving smile Dustin inherited, tugging me down for a smothering but welcome kiss on the cheek. "Dumpling, you look exhausted!"
"Thanks, mom." I mutter, and she gives me a look. "Yeah, I am. Long shift. Mark took, like, twelve smoke breaks, and the seventh one was during a random rush. But there were no angry customers, which is nice considering the store's surrounded by weapons." I walk into the kitchen to grab the leftover lasagna I can smell from across the room, leaning against the counter and chewing delicately and tiredly. Claudia Henderson, just as exhausted as me but powered by her awesome mother abilities, stands and walks to me, Mews still in her arms. "Is Dustin home yet?"
"About thirty minutes ago, sweetheart." She gives me a hesitant look, then sighs. "Your father called earlier. Said he wanted to speak to you."
"I have nothing to say to him." I coldly respond. "He doesn't have the right to call us. Not after what he did."
"Dumpling -"
"Mom, no." I tear up and look away. "Sorry. I know it's even harder on you. I shouldn't be so -"
"Veronica Leigh Henderson, you stop that right now. You are allowed to be angry. I just don't like hiding things from you."
After what my dad pulled, honesty has become the biggest rule in the Henderson household, which is a good thing. I don't trust easily, not anymore, but at least I have a few good people to rely on.
"Okay, mom." I smile at her, then quickly wash the plate, the sound of running water filling the kitchen. "Thank you for telling me. And we'll see. Maybe I should, just to give him a piece of my mind. The son of a bitch deserves it."
"Veronica, language!" She scolds me, and whips at me playfully with a dish rag. I yelp and jump back a bit to avoid the hit, my reflexes as quick as usual. "Go to bed."
"I can finish cleaning up for you, if you'd like." She shakes her head and waves me off.
"No, no, it's fine. Goodnight, sweetheart." She kisses my cheek and sends me towards my room. "And make sure you have everything packed for your lesson!" My mom yells after me.
"Okay! Love you, goodnight!" I call, continuing on to my room. I pass by my brother's room on the way and see the door is open a crack and the light is on. So I know, and when my brother grunts I roll my eyes and push it open.
His brown curls fall around him, wet. His eyes are especially blue in the light. I'm the odd-one out in my immediate family, getting my maternal grandmother's blonde hair and my paternal grandfather's big green eyes.
"What?" He grumpily asks, frowning up at me. Dustin has Cleidocranial Dysplasia, which means his bones have a delayed growth. His teeth are finally starting to come in, but he still doesn't have collarbones and speaks with a heavy lisp. It's cute, though, and he's the best thing in my life.
"Easy, D. Just wanted to say goodnight. Do you want me to drop you off at school?"
"I need to bring my bike."
I smile at him, the soft one I save for family and my best friend. "So we'll throw it in the trunk. C'mon. You can't say no to a ride in the Millenium Falcon."
For my upcoming 16th birthday, my dad sent me a grey 1981 Ford Falcon station wagon. He's a car dealer, so it was easy for him. And I would have sent it back, his "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you since I'm too busy screwing my former secretary-turned-wife, Happy Birthday, kid" gift, but I'm not gonna pass on a free car. Plus, my brother loves it. He even gave it the name.
I'm not 16, yet. No until the 24th of November, so in a few weeks. But this is Hawkins, Indiana, and unless I decide to drive like a maniac no one actually cares that I only have my learner's permit.
"Shotgun in the Millenium Falcon? Hell yeah, Leia!" I roll my eyes at the nickname.
"Okay, it's a deal. But I'm leaving exactly at 8, so if your ass isn't ready by then you're biking, you got it?" I coolly order, and he nods. Then I smile, wide. "Love you, bug. Get some sleep."
"Night, sis." I close the door behind me and walk into my room, just so I can kick off my shoes and grab a fluffy towel.
My shower is quick but warm, the water massaging my sore limbs and washing off any residual irritation I have with my boss and his habit of smoking more than working. I guess he just feels he can, though, since I'd been going to Hunting & Camping since I was a child, back when my dad actually cared about his family and spent time with me. Before mom and I caught him with Allison, the dumb whore.
And fuck, am I tired. Really, it was a damn long day. It was like every farmer in Hawkins chose this specific Sunday to buy their winter supplies.
Okay, look. It's not like I have to work. Mom makes enough as a bookkeeper to support us, even without dad's deservedly-extensive child support. Like, $6000 a month extensive. Don't worry, he can pay that easily - he owns two successful car dealerships now, last I heard from mom. Not that we use the money for anything other than college savings, anyway. Gives mom one less thing to worry about. Most of the money I earn is being added to my account, too. I like to help out, to, so some of it goes to grocery shopping. The rest I use to buy what I want - clothes, gifts, strawberry milkshakes from Sally's Place. I've got a lot saved up so far, having worked since I was fourteen.
So no, I don't have to work. But I like it, even if people exhaust me.
Shower done, teeth brushed, and bladder relieved I return to my room, army crawling under my bed in my towel to pull out a large duffle. Resting inside are my arrows and compact bow, polished and ready to go. I take out the non-practice ones, the arrowheads sharp enough to pierce through flesh. The practice tips can still hurt, but they're less harsh.
I've done archery since I was eight. Actually, I take it very seriously, enough so that I occasionally compete. I do pretty well, making it in the top three unless distracted. My instructor thinks I'll be ready for the 1988 Olympics, but I'm not sure that's what I want to do. I mean, it'd be cool, but… it's never been about "being the best" or whatever.
My dad's the one who got me into it, you see. He took me camping for the first time when I was five, and when I was eight decided I'd be ready to learn how to hunt. He started teaching me how to use a gun around then - well, a BB gun - but I never liked it. Archery, though? Now that was fun. Especially since our favorite book to read together was the Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Archery's the only thing that's keeping me from completely hating my dad. It reminds me of the good times, of winters spent in the frost-covered forest, the smell of hot chocolate pervading the air, my dad cheering as I hit the bullseye for the sixth time in a row.
With a sad sigh I move the duffle so it's laying next to my flower-printed backpack, double-checking I actually remembered to pack my homework. Uncaring of the outcome, I let my towel fall to the floor in a heap and quickly put on some pajamas. With the lights off, I let the moonlight guide me into my bed, stopping briefly to set my alarm.
As soon as the covers are drawn under my chin my eyes close, body welcoming the sleep.
I wake up to a persistent beeping and grumble under my breath, batting at the alarm on my bedside table until it shuts the hell up. With a groan I sit up and brush my tangled curls back, fingers getting stuck in my hair.
Stumbling around, I tiredly change into today's outfit - a cropped tee, overalls, a pair of scribbled-on converse.
Beating Dustin to the bathroom - and laughing when he yells out an offended "Hey!" when the door closes, I get to work brushing my teeth. There's no saving my hair, not in its present state, so I pull half of the bicep-length curls up into a very messy whale spout.
Breath minty fresh and face washed, I open the cabinet and pull out two little containers. Popping the tops off, I stick one pill from each bottle in my mouth and swallow dry, more than used to the feeling. I've got depression and anxiety, have since I was twelve and caught dear old dad drilling into his secretary in the middle of the day.
Who would've thought witnessing your hero betraying your mother would lead to compromised mental health?
Dustin knocks rapidly, so I open it. He bursts in, shoving me out the bathroom. "I gotta pee, Leia! Move!" He orders. I snort and wave sarcastically, returning to my room to put on a little makeup and grab my bags.
My mom's pattering away in the kitchen, bacon still sizzling as she removes it from the pan, and pancakes set up on a plate by the stove. I grab an empty one and grab some grub, drizzling syrup all over the pancakes and kissing my mom's cheek. I sit at the table and dig in, waiting for my brother to hurry the hell up. A coffee mug is placed in front of me and I thank my mom, practically chugging the caffeine as Dustin comes sauntering in wearing his usual hat and green hoodie.
"Good morning mom, milady." He bows at us and our mother brightens.
"Hello, Dusty." She presses kisses all over his face and I laugh as he squirms, knowing full well he actually loves the attention. Dustin's the apple of our eyes, after all. Our family's precious, foul-mouthed baby. With a big grin on my face, I watch as he shoves everything into his face, way too used to his horrible eating habits to actually be disgusted. In fact, I'd be worried if he didn't eat like that.
As mom talks to Dustin about his explicit language, I wash down my meal with a glass of water and pop in a piece of gum, blowing obnoxious bubbles at Dustin until he notices and flips me off. He finishes a few minutes later, standing to give our mom a big hug while Mews watches us from her spot on the kitchen window, eyes narrowed at me in judgment. I narrow my eyes right back, only prevented from hissing when my mom pulls me into a hug.
"Have a good lesson! I love you."
"Love you too. I'll see you tonight." I pull away from her warm body and pick up my bags, grabbing my keys from the bowl and jacket from the coat rack. "Dustin, c'mon. Time to hit the road!"
"You both have money for lunch, right?" My mom calls to us as we walk to my car, and I open the trunk so Dustin can shove his bike in.
"I do. Dustin?" I ask.
"Yeah - son of a bitch - YEAH!" He calls, slamming the trunk closed. I look up at the sky in mock irritation, laughing as he jumps into the passenger side with unbridled enthusiasm. I blow a kiss to my mom and get behind the wheel, tossing my bags into the back seat and carefully backing out of the driveway. I turn in the direction of our schools, leaving our waving mother behind.
"Is Troy still bothering you?" I ask after a couple of moments of silence.
Dustin snorts. "When doesn't he? His sole purpose in life is to mess with us."
"I could talk to him." I hum.
But my brother only shakes his head and takes one of my hands. "It's my battle to fight, Ice Queen of Hawkins. But should we need our Huntress, we shall call upon thee." He remarks in a horrendous British accent. I only snort and make a turn.
"Maybe you'd be picked on less if you stopped talking like that."
"I thought you said it was cute." He mutters, and I give him my special "Dustin only" smile.
"It is. But having you not be traumatized by assholes in school is even cuter, buddy."
"Aren't you the one who said trauma is a part of life."
"For me, kid." I shake my head. "Not for you."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"You're my brother, Dustin. My little brother. It's my job to look out for you."
"We're supposed to look out for each other." He tells me.
I don't respond. I simply pull into a spot between the middle school and high school campuses. Removing my keys from the ignition I stare out the window. "Get to class, Dustin. Tell the Party I said hi."
"Okay." He kisses my cheek and gets out of the car, and I follow him to unlock the trunk. He bikes away from me, taking my smile with him.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Calm your mind.
Well, time to be the Ice Queen of Hawkins.
I get out and close the door with my usual indifferent attitude. I'm a different person when I'm around other people. People who aren't my brother, mom, or best friend. Even with the younger kids my brother is close with, there's that wall I put up. It's gotten me a reputation, my attitude. I've been mostly cold since the divorce, but I didn't become the "Ice Queen" until freshman year. Carol Perkins and her goons tried to beat down on me verbally. I simply stared and with all the coldness I felt about my dad, unleashed harsh words in a soothing, chilling voice, watching as they backed away. The halls started to part for me, and those who lack any stubbornness or backbone refused to approach me. Which is great, because those kinds of people are the assholes who bully the "freaks."
The Ice Queen is a freak of nature, and she protects her freaks. Protects them from people like Carol and Tommy Hagan, from the people who are most definitely going to peak in high school. The Ice Queen protects them from assholes like Steven Harrington.
King Steve, rich boy extraordinaire. He's hot, yeah, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't been nursing a crush on him the size of Texas since I was in middle school. Still, liking him hasn't blinded me from seeing he's a douchebag of the highest order, and that there's clearly something wrong with my mind if I have deep feelings for a guy like Steve "The Hair" Harrington.
Seriously. It's thick and poofy and definitely has ten products in it, at least.
I walk towards the school with my backpack slung over one shoulder, looking around for my best friend's car. Weird. Jonathan's never late to meet me. Maybe he's by our lockers?
I walk into the school, and people blocking my path move out of the way. It's not like I dress super imposing, and I'm definitely not the tallest person around - hell, Dustin's almost an inch taller than me.
See, at the end of the day it's all about the attitude. At first, I was cold. Frozen. In my walk, in my tone, in how I looked at people. Especially that first week of high school. But all that's only good for attracting people, I've found. Like you're some mystery to be figured out.
Well, I don't want to be figured out. I don't want people to look behind the curtain and realize I'm not for them. So I learned how to make people fear me. Anger isn't all that scares people, though it's a good start. What's truly terrifying is the calm before the storm, the light snowfall before the harsh blizzard. So my chilling, frozen attitude morphed into cool indifference, unless provoked. When provoked, the coldness comes in the form of soft but sharp words, a biting look when I overhear something that shouldn't be said.
Jonathan isn't at his locker, so I head straight to mine, shoving my bag and jacket inside. I grab what I need for the first half of the day, going through my folder for the homework. That's when a shadow looms next to me, and I look up at one of the people who've weathered the storm that is Veronica Leigh Henderson.
"Good morning, Smarties." Barb Holland greets, red hair even more orange in the morning light and glasses thick.
Smarties, for my favorite candy.
I give her a small smile, not one large enough to crack my wall, and straighten. "Morning, Barb. Where's Nance?" I ask, looking for her usual companion.
Barb rolls her eyes. "She probably had a late night."
"With who?" I ask as we start to walk down the hall, and more students step aside to allow us to pass.
"You didn't hear?" I shake my head. "Steve Harrington's been chasing after her. I'm totally jealous, but also, like, gag me with a spoon."
"Right." I nod, my mind going a little blank. I can sort of hear Barb talking about them, but the noise around me is coming out muffled.
Steve and Nancy. Nancy and Steve.
God, I'm being ridiculous.
I shake myself out of my stupor, catching the last of Barb's morning report. "- and we were supposed to study over the phone last night, but she hung up because he was going to call her!"
"And you didn't call me?"
"You were at work." Barb tells me, confused.
"I'd rather have studied than been there. Goddamn Mark and his smoking. I'm one day away from quitting."
She snorts, catching my lie. "No, you're not. You love that place."
"Yeah, I really do." I mutter.
Down the hall, we see Nancy walking to her locker. She's a petite girl, the smallest I've ever seen. She rivals Audrey Hepburn in body types. No wonder guys like Steve go after her. She's dainty and picture-perfect, even with her flaws.
Don't get me wrong, I've dated a lot of guys. I like my body. Athletic, a little curvy, toned muscles. Slim, not skinny, and I still have some meat on my bones. But when you've liked a guy for nearly four years and he ends up going after your friend - despite your constant fighting - well, that can sort of take a hit at your confidence meter. Especially when your friend could literally be a model.
"So, did he call?" Barb excitedly asks Nancy Wheeler as she's about to open her locker. She looks around nervously.
"Keep your voice down!" She whispers, and I roll my eyes. Despite the war going on in my head, I stand on her other side.
"Well, did he?" I ask, speaking at a normal volume. She still looks nervous. "Relax. You seriously think anyone is going to try and listen in with me here?" She chews her lip, but calms down and sends me a dazzling smile.
"Thank you, Vera." I nod and gesture for her to answer. "I told you Barb, it's not like that." She looks up at our ginger friend before looking at me. "You won't tell anyone, right?"
"Jesus, Nance. I'm the secret keeper. Don't ask stupid questions." Even though she's a little taller than me, I feel like a giant compared to her.
"Okay, okay, sorry. I mean, yes, he likes me, but not like that. We just," she smiles and begins opening her locker, "made out a couple times."
"We just… made out a couple times." Barb mocks, and I laugh under my breath. "Nance, seriously. You're gonna be so cool now, it's ridiculous."
"Hey, I'm the cool one around here." I point out, tone light.
Nancy points at me, and nods in agreement towards Barb. "It's true. And I'm not."
"You better still hang out with me, that's all I'm saying. If you become friends with Tommy H or Carol…"
"Oh, she better not." I warn, glaring at the back of Nancy's head.
"Gross." Nancy adds, and I nod proudly at her. She smiles and turns back to Barb, finally opening her locker. "Okay, I'm telling you. It was only a one time… two time thing."
I groan and roll my eyes. "Oh, gag me with a spoon."
She laughs, but suddenly stops, pulling out a slip of paper. As she opens it Barb and I look over her shoulder in interest.
Meet me. Bathroom. Steve.
"You were saying?" Barb asks, and I watch with a pit in my throat as Nancy smiles and closes her locker, bidding us farewell and rushing off. Barb and I stay where we are, watching her move through the crowd.
"She has it bad." Barb finally says, and I nod.
"Hey, have you seen Jonathan?" I ask.
Barb thinks then shakes her head, before a conspiring smile lights up her freckled face. "And why are you looking for him?"
"Because he's my best friend?"
"Ouch. Hurtful."
I roll my eyes. "What? I've known him since we were in diapers."
"I know, I know, but…"
I shake my head. "Nope, absolutely not. We're like siblings. That's it. Can't guys and girls be best friends without wanting to get in each other's pants?" I gripe as we walk to our first class.
She shrugs. "Sure, I guess. But you've never even thought about it?"
I shake my head. "Never."
"And there's no guy? No one?"
"A Queen doesn't need a King. Elizabeth the First taught us that." I point out, opening the door for English. No one's in the room yet, giving us time to get our usual seats without issue. Center row, with me in the middle and Barb beside me. Jonathan's not in my class, having the next period, so maybe I'll see him then.
"Well, he wouldn't be your King. But still, you haven't been single this long, like, ever."
It's true. Ever since the seventh grade, I've had a boyfriend. Never for long though. Usually three months if he's an interesting dude. The longest relationship I've had lasted five months, with a sophomore named Harrison. We broke up when his family had to move to Chicago. I liked him enough to be my first, but it definitely wasn't love.
"Maybe I'm tired of quick things? Besides, the guys here suck."
Barb snorts. "Yeah, they really do."
I see her snort for what it is, though, and lean over to take her hand. "They're idiots, and there's gonna be a time when they look back and wish they asked you out."
"Right." She rolls her eyes.
"I'm serious." She looks at me. "You're beautiful. Way more beautiful than girls like Carol. And you're smart, funny, and kind."
"Thanks, Smarties." She whispers, and I let go of her hand. "You're really nice."
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain." I sniff, and she laughs, right as the class comes in. Nancy pushes past Ally with an apology to sit next to Barb, a blush on her cheeks as she does so. I swallow and look ahead, waiting for class to start.
It's lunch time, and the older Byers boy still hasn't made an appearance. I sit by myself in the corner of the cafeteria, ignoring the laughter and gossiping in favor of looking around for my best friend. Lunch time is reserved for Jonathan, so Barb and Nancy are sitting with their other friends. "Missing your freak, princess?" A familiar voice asks. I tense and grab my fork, take a bite out of my salad and lift an eyebrow. "Earth to Henderson, do you copy blonde Gremlin?"
"Harrington." I purr, voice even. "What can I do for you today?" I don't bother to look at him, I just keep eating my salad.
"You just looked lonely without Byers. Did you screw him too hard last night?" Tommy jumps at the chance to take a crack at me to gain more respect points from Steve.
I turn around in my seat, looking up at King Steve's freckled best friend. "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy." I tut, voice soft and sharp. The rest of the cafeteria goes a little silent when they notice what's happening. "Every week, you try this shit. And every week it doesn't work. When are you going to learn, Tommy-boy?"
"When you realize you're not shit." Carol responds for her boytoy, and I look up at her.
"'Not shit'. Like, I don't suck? Thanks, already knew that."
"You're just a sophomore bitch with daddy issues." She tells me, but it's an overused insult. "No wonder the only guy you've kept around is Byers. His daddy walked out on him, too, right?"
"Carol." I say, voice even sharper. Cooler. Carol takes a step back as I show my teeth. "Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? Because I distinctly remember telling you only last week that your insults lack substance and are frankly very disappointing. Probably like Tommy, right? Is that why you're such a bitch? Bad lay?" Tommy glowers, and I focus my icy glare on him, smiling internally when he backs off. "I wasn't talking to you. In fact, I was done talking to you. Because you're boring, and in a year when you maybe cross that stage and get your diploma, you'll all be stuck here," I look up briefly at Steve, too, but he doesn't move back, not like his lackies, "and the rest of us? We'll have moved on from high school. Get out of my face. Before it gets worse for you." I warn, and watch as they walk away towards the lunch line.
See, I may be popular because people are afraid of me, but that doesn't stop those three assholes from trying to take me down literally every Monday. It's a damn tradition. A whole "there isn't enough room in this place for the four of us" routine. Blegh. Morons.
The cafeteria returns to its regularly scheduled gossip hour and I turn back around, continuing to eat.
"Miss Henderson!" A voice calls, and I look up in confusion as the assistant principal approaches my table.
"Ms. Murphy, what's -" I start to ask.
She smiles reassuringly. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. Your mom needs to talk to you."
I nod. "Okay, sure. Do I need to -"
"Come with me." I stand up and follow her out, sending Nancy and Barb confused looks as I go. I catch Steve staring and glare at him until he looks away.
Murphy leads me into her office, where I find Chief Hopper waiting with Officer Callahan... and my brother? "What's going on?" I ask, looking at the adults, cool but confused.
"Don't worry, Robin Hood. You aren't in trouble." The "not yet" goes unspoken by the Chief of Police. He talks before my brother can, and I hold open my arms. Dustin dashes into them, wrapping his arms around me while I nod.
"You said my mom wanted me to call?" I ask, and Ms. Murphy holds out the black handset. I hold it to my ear as the principal dials my mom's number, and wait for her to pick up.
"This is Claudia Henderson."
"Mom, what's going on?" I ask, masking my nervousness.
"Oh, thank goodness! Joyce Byers called, it seems Will didn't come home from yesterday. Chief Hopper just asked the boys some questions about it, but I'm worried about Dusty." I feel like the rug has been pulled out from underneath me and I stagger, holding Dustin a little tighter as his shoulders shake. "I spoke to Karen who said she was getting Mike, but I have a couple of meetings and can't leave the office. Do you think you can bring him home? Do you have a test? Because I can -"
"Mom, mom, it's fine. I'll ask Nancy or Barb to pick up my stuff. It's fine." I calm her down, rubbing Dustin's shoulder. "What time will you be home? I can cancel my lesson."
I hear her sigh in relief, and swallow my tears when I hear how shaky her breathing is. "No, you don't have to. I'll be home by 3:30. Thank you. Thank you, sweetheart. I have to go. I love you. Can you call me when you get back?"
"Yes. I promise. I'll call. I love you, too." I hand the phone back to Ms. Murphy and pull Dustin in closer. "I've got you. I've got you." I whisper as his shoulders shake. I look up at Hopper. "Thanks, Chief."
He pats my shoulder and leaves the room with Callahan. "You'll be excused from the rest of your classes, Ms. Henderson." Ms. Murphy reassures me, and I give her a rare soft smile.
"Thanks. C'mon, let's get you home. Is your bike outside?" I ask, awkwardly walking with him attached to me.
"Yeah. Hopper said to bring it with me." He whispers. I nod and blink back tears, stopping by the cafeteria. Dustin is still holding onto me, so I sigh and pull him in with me, daring someone to say something with my usual cool glare. They look away, though I'm sure they're wondering what a middle schooler is doing here.
I walk over to Nancy and Barb, clearing my throat when they choose to focus on Dustin. "Can one of you please grab my homework? I've got to take him home."
"Of course, yeah." Barb answers.
"Is everything okay?" Nancy asks.
I nod my head, still dazed. Will is missing. Will is missing. My best friend's little brother is missing. "He's just feeling sick and mom can't pick him up. Thank you." I tell them, waving as I drag Dustin out of the cafeteria. I notice Tommy about to open his mouth, and briefly stop. "Say something and I'll rip off your two inch dick and feed it to you in little pieces." I warn, voice blank of any emotion. He closes his mouth and I keep walking, my brother not letting go, not even when I open my locker and grab my bag and jacket.
"Hold on, we're almost outside." I whisper, and as soon as the cool air hits us I nudge him to get his bike. We walk over to my car together and toss it in the back before getting in the car.
I haven't even started the car when Dustin begins sobbing. Silent tears fall down my cheeks, too, and I pull him into me, knocking off his hat to run my fingers through his curls. "I've got you. I've got you." I mutter, head on top of his. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"We should have ridden home with him." Dustin guilty bemoans, but I shake my head. "What… what if he's dead? What if he was taken?"
"Stop it! He isn't dead!" I shout, forcing Dustin to look at me. "Will Byers is too smart to be dead. They'll find him!"
"What if his dad took him?" Dustin whispers.
I bite my lip. "Then Jonathan and I will watch as Joyce goes after him with an axe." Jonathan. Oh my God, Jonathan. I have to call him. How could I have not realized something was wrong? He never misses school! "Will is going to be fine. Okay?"
"Promise?"
Honesty is our rule. But this is different. "I promise."
Please, God, tell me I haven't lied to my brother.
I start the car and peel out of my spot, leaving our schools in the dust. The rest of the ride passes in silence, Dustin still sniffling and me breathing heavily to stop the flow of tears.
Will Byers is a sweet kid. The sweetest. Dustin's sweet too, but there's this innocence to the youngest Byers. He doesn't curse, he's soft and kind. He doesn't raise his voice in an argument. In fact, he hates arguments. I babysit for him, when Joyce and Jonathan are both working. Free of charge, because I'm not taking money from my best friend's family.
We watch TV together, and he even taught me about Dungeons and Dragons, because let's face it Will is a lot more patient than my brother and their best friends. And when Lonnie left, he turned to me. Well, he and Jonathan, because they had already seen me go through something similar. They're like brothers to me. And now Will's missing and Jonathan's probably running around worried sick, finding a way to blame himself because that's what he always does when something goes wrong.
A small hand takes my own, pulling me from the depths of my thoughts. I realize I've pulled into our driveway.
"You're breathing too hard. Are you panicking?" Dustin asks, wiping away tears. I shake my head and kiss his forehead, then grab his hat and place it on his head.
"C'mon. We'll go inside and watch A New Hope. Okay? You just have to let me make a couple of calls first."
"Okay." He whispers, sniffling as he leaves the car with his backpack in his hand. I grab my own bag as well as the duffle, figuring I'll just bike to my lesson, and grab Dustin's bike from the trunk, walking it over to its usual spot.
My little brother waits by the front door so I let us in, locking the door behind me. I toss my keys in the bowl and shove my bags to the side as well as my coat, untying my shoes. Dustin's already gotten rid of his jacket and sneakers and folded onto the couch, Mews climbing on his lap. I don't have it in me to continue my battle with the cat and instead go over to the phone. I call our mom, first, reassuring her that we're fine and that I'm distracting Dustin with a movie. As soon as she hangs up I hover my hands over the numbers, taking a few moments before I dial the Byers home.
"Hello? Will?" Joyce Byers asks, frantic. I wince.
"No, sorry. It's… it's Veronica. I wanted to check in. On you and Jonathan."
"Oh, dear. Thank you. Have you heard from him? Have you seen him?"
I shake my head, willing my tears to freeze up. "No. I'm so sorry Joyce, I haven't. Listen, I have archery today. But afterwards, I can come and see you both for a bit? If you'd like."
"Thank you. Thank you, dear. Oh, Jonathan's here. I'll… I'll let you two speak."
I hear the phone rustle a bit before another breath comes through. "Ver?" A weak voice asks, and I force my hand over my mouth at how broken my best friend sounds.
"I'm here." I finally promise. "I'm here. Jonathan, I'm here for you. I told your mom I'd come over later, after my lesson. Okay?"
"Thank you. Wh-what did I miss, at school? Why aren't you at school? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, John. I'm fine." I reassure him. "School was school. Boring. Hopper talked to Mike, Lucas, and D. Dustin… he's a little shaken. I took him home for mom. We're gonna watch Star Wars."
"Empire or A New Hope?" Jonathan asks, and I take the distraction for his sake.
"A New Hope. We'll do Empire after."
"And then archery. And then you're coming here?"
"Yeah, promise."
I can hear a door opening on the other end of the line. "I gotta go. My mom -"
"Okay, okay. I'll see you later." He hangs up, and I'm left with a beeping phone.
"You aren't focusing, Henderson!" Craig tells me, watching as my sixtieth arrow of the lesson punctures the penultimate center ring. I haven't gotten a single bullseye.
"Sorry. A lot on my mind."
"What did we say, kiddo? Focus on what's ahead, not behind." He points at my eyes, then the target. I nod and notch another arrow, drawing and breathing in as I fire. The arrow soars through the air, landing just outside the center. I narrow my eyes, veins freezing. Usually I only miss when I mean to. "This is about Will Byers, isn't it?" Craig asks.
"How'd you know about that?" I ask, getting back into position and breathing as I release the string. A little closer.
"Everyone knows. Hopper's probably going to put a search party together. He's already asked Mark and me to be on standby, just in case. To help track."
"I can track, too." I tell him, notching another arrow but not drawing, choosing instead to focus on my teacher.
"Better than most."
"I know the woods like the back of my hand." It's true. I've been camping in and exploring them since I was five, and even when my dad took off I refused to stop.
"I know. But there's a curfew, and I doubt Claudia will let you go."
I nod. "Yeah, you're right. Still, I can help. I should help. Will's my little brother. Not by blood, but he's still my little brother."
"And he'd be pretty disappointed in your archery skills right now." I glower at Craig. Low blow. "It's true. You know it is. Remember how impressed he was the first time you brought him?"
I smile at the memory, thinking about the soft spoken boy clapping and cheering me on, his unpaid babysitter-sister. "Yeah."
"So focus on the good, not the bad shit." I nod at his order and breath, then look ahead.
As always, I pull back with just the right amount of force, a pleased smile on my face as the arrow flies true, hitting the bullseye. I smile in relief and calmly set down my bow, looking up at one of my dad's former friends. He lost them all, when he pulled his "screwing the secretary then divorcing his wife then marrying his mistress" shit. I consider that a personal win for me, that I got to keep the people he wanted to. "See? You did it. Don't let yourself get trapped in your head. I know that's easier said than done, but you're always at your best when you remember that, Ice Queen." I roll my eyes at the nickname. I pretty much tell Craig everything. He's like an uncle to me.
"That's reserved for the students."
"Mhmm, sure. Go on, class is ending early today. Go comfort Jonathan." I smile and dash over to the target, pulling out the arrows and picking up the ones I simply dropped on the ground in the initial removal processes. Giving Craig a salute and shoving everything into my duffle I get on my bike and head over to the Byers house.
It's pretty much at the edge of the woods, secluded and worn down. I stop between her car and Jonathan's, dumping my bike on the ground before running up to the front door, carefully knocking. Joyce answers, eyes a little swollen and red as she immediately pulls me into a hug and my normal walls open up for her, my second mother. "Joyce." I whisper, hugging her closer. "I'm so sorry. We'll find him."
"I know. I know we will. Thank you for coming. Jonathan's in the living room making posters." She lets go of me and I nod.
"Okay, I'm going to help him. And when we're done, I'll make dinner. I'm sure you haven't eaten yet."
"I-I couldn't stop lo-"
"Joyce, I know. Let me worry about the food, okay?" She nods, then smiles.
"Thank you, dear. I'm so glad you came." I smile back at her and squeeze her shoulder as I walk over to where Jonathan is sitting, shoulders tense and face more gaunt than usual. Before he can stop me I throw my smaller frame onto him, uncaring if I knock him off balance.
"Ver, what -"
"Shh. This is a rare show of affection. Let me hug you." I mutter. He laughs, a little broken, and pulls me closer. We just hold each other for a few moments until he shifts away from me.
"Thanks, Rockstar." I bite my lip. "You here to take care of us?"
"Absolutely. You're family, John." I squeeze his hand briefly then let go. "Now hand me a marker. You and I both know which one of us has the better penmanship."
He rolls his eyes but hands me a Sharpie. I uncap it and follow his wording, the only sounds filling the house are the scratches as we write. That is, until Joyce tries to call Lonnie, her ex-husband.
And, as is typical with that man, he doesn't pick up. Someone else does, though. "Can you please put him on?... Who is this?" Joyce asks, and I briefly look up at the tense woman. "Cynthia… Cynthia, this is Joyce… Lonnie's ex-wife… I really need to speak to him - Can you please put him - no. No, not later, now!" She slams the phone down to hang it up. "Bitch!"
"Mom!" Jonathan calls.
"What?" She yells back, but neither one of us jumps.
"You have to stay calm."
Joyce chuckles to herself humorlessly, then picks up the phone once more, redialing. I set down the paper I was writing on to go walk over to her as she calls her ex. "Lonnie. Some teenager just hung up on me. Will is… is missing. I don't know where he is. I need…" Her voice breaks. "I just need you to call me back, please, just -" I can hear the line disconnecting from where I'm standing and watch with a heavy heart as Joyce slams the phone twice. "Damn it, damn it!"
I pull her into a hug, hoping to anchor her. It seems to be working, at least a bit, because she breathes a little easier.
"Mom?" Jonathan calls, and we break apart.
"What?"
"Cops." He announces, standing up. Joyce jogs over to the front door and opens it, the three of us standing on the front porch and watching as Hopper comes out from behind his car, damaged blue bike in his hands as Callahan and Powell get out of their smaller car.
I swallow and catch Jonathan as he stumbles back, staring sadly at Hopper. He gives me a small nod before refocusing on Joyce.
"We found it in the woods. Can we talk inside?" He asks, the usually gruff man a little softer when speaking to the distraught mother. Joyce nods and leads us all back into the house, and I close the door behind the cops, leaning against it and staring at their backs.
"It was just lying there?" Joyce asks.
Hopper nods, and begins to walk around. "Yeah. Cal?" He points towards the bedrooms and the dark-skinned cop follows his order. Powell's always been the smarter one of him and his partner. Callahan… well, there are times when Tommy is smarter than him.
"Was there any blood on it, or -"
"No, no, no, no, no…" Hopper reassures Joyce, looking around. "Phil?" I follow them as they walk around the house, Jonathan asking,
"If you found the bike out there, why are you here?"
"Well, he had a key to the house, right?" Hopper asks, and I've honestly never seen him in full-cop mode before now.
"Yeah." Jonathan answers.
"So… maybe he came home."
This has Joyce up a wall. "Yo-you think I didn't check my own house?" She stammers.
"I'm not saying that."
"Chief Hopper, please. Throw us a bone, please." I actually plead, which gets his attention. I'm not one to beg.
He nods. "Alright. Okay." Then his eyes narrow and he touches a small dent in the wood paneling by the door. "Has this always been here?"
"What? I don't know." Joyce looks at him in disbelief. "I mean, I have two boys. Look at this place."
"You're not sure?" He asks again, opening the door and showing the scruff matches where the doorknob hits.
Chester, the Byers dog, suddenly starts barking and Hopper goes out to investigate, Joyce right behind him. With the two adults outside and the other two cops exploring the house I pull Jonathan into a hug, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
We're still holding each other when Joyce comes back in with Chester, the dog circling us as Joyce joins our hug, the cops moving around us.
Finally, Hopper comes back with his two subordinates. "Joyce, we're putting together a search party. We're going to find him, alright?" The passion in his voice, well, it's strong. And it makes me hopeful.
Because Hopper lost a kid. His daughter. Everyone in town knows, cause, well, small towns. Cancer. She was six. He won't let Joyce go through that pain, too, and the thought of that makes me smile inside.
Hang on, Will. We're coming for you.
I left the Byers house at 8:30, long after the sun had set. I managed to put together some pasta, a salad, and garlic bread, because the first thing my mom taught me after my dad left was how to cook. They sent me off with hugs and kisses, promising to call if they heard anything.
With my mom part of Will's search party I bike home as fast as possible, not wanting Dustin to be on his own. But when I make it to our house, I see him straddling his bike, backpack on. "Hey, where the hell are you going?" I ask, my dropping bike making him jump.
"Veronica, I -"
"Let me guess. You and your buddies are itching to go on your own search? Look for Will in Mirkwood?" He gulps and nods, not even bothering to lie. "You have an extra flashlight?"
"Yeah. Yes."
I nod. "Okay." I shake my head, picking my bike back up. "I can't believe you thought you were leaving without my supervision. What if you had gotten hurt? Huh? What then?" For once, my blood isn't running cold. It's burning with fear and anger. I can't lose my brother.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." He apologizes, and I nod before slapping him up the head.
"Dumbass. Hang on." I readjust my duffle. "Alright. Time to go save our Wizard."
Dustin smiles at me, showing his growing teeth. "As you command, Huntress." We ride out into the night, turning the lights on our bikes on as we do so.
Lucas and Mike join us halfway to Mirkwood. It isn't really Mirkwood - that's a fictional forest made up by Tolkien, though it does look like it. God, I can't believe I know that. Mirkwood is really where the roads Cornwallis and Keerley meet, by the Hawkins National Laboratory.
As we ride, Mike starts griping at me. "I saw Steve Harrington sneaking into Nancy's room on my way here. Can't you do your whole 'Ice Queen' thing and scare him off?"
"Hey, he's Nancy's bad decision to make, alright?" I calmly tell him. "But if he hurts her, yeah, I'll do it. Now focus, Will takes precedence over Hairy Harrington."
Lucas snorts and we do a quick fist bump as we keep riding, but all merriment fades when we reach our starting point.
Mirkwood is creepy. Seriously. Super creepy. Especially at night.
"Ah man, this is it." Lucas mutters.
"Hey guys, you feel that?" My little brother asks as the sky rumbles, and sure enough a few drops of rain plop down onto my varsity jacket. "I think maybe we should go back."
Before I can agree, Mike speaks up. "No. We're not going back. Just stay close. Come on."
"Hey, wait a second." I stop the Wheeler boy from moving. "We go when I say we go. Do you all have your walkies set?"
"Channel six." Mike promises, and Lucas and Dustin wave their own devices at me. I nod.
"Fine, alright, come on." I take my bow and quiver from my duffle, leaving it by the bikes. I duck under the abysmal police tape and wait for the boys to follow me, sliding my quiver over my shoulder. Dustin tosses me a flashlight as we dump our bikes, and I tuck it so it's held down by the strap of my quiver. I also notch an arrow to my bow, waiting for the boys to join me. "Stay close to me. If something happens, you three run to your bikes and ride to the police station. You get Flo to walkie Hopper, and tell him what happened. Do you understand?" I order in a chilling voice, the three boys nodding at me fearfully despite the fact they're all almost my height. "You ride to Flo, and you do not play hero."
"Okay."
"Got it."
"Promise, Leia." Mike, Lucas, and Dustin agree. I nod and give them a soothing smile.
"Good. C'mon."
We march through the woods, the boys sounding like a herd of elephants compared to my soft, well practiced footsteps. Like I said, I know these woods very well. They're my second home.
The farther we walk, the heavier the rain falls. I'm grateful my hair is still up, but I keep having to wipe the cold liquid from my face and my fingers are starting to cramp on my bow. I can feel my teeth chattering, too, but it isn't as loud as Lucas and Mike's.
Ironic, right? The Ice Queen is freezing.
"Will?"
"Byers!" Mike and Lucas yell as they walk a few feet away from Dustin and I, covering the other side of Mirkwood without trailing too far off.
"Will!" I yell. "Buddy, come on!"
"I've got your X-Men 134!" I roll my eyes at Dustin's attempt, but it also puts a small smile on my face. That's Will's favorite issue. "Guys, I really think we should turn back."
"Seriously, Dustin? You wanna be a baby, then go home already." I stop walking to turn and glare at Lucas.
"Watch it, Sinclair." He nods at my icy tone. "But seriously Dustin, shut up."
"I'm just being realistic!" Dustin tells me. "Which is your job, by the way, because all you are is realistic, and you're choosing now to be an optimist!"
I wince internally at the harshness in Dustin's tone, but I don't fight back. It's the truth, after all. I'm not who I used to be. I haven't been for four years, though it comes out sometimes. "Dustin, I know you're scared." I soothe, replacing coldness with warmth. "But I'm here, and I won't let anything happen to you. Okay?" He nods and we keep walking.
"Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad, and we're going to the exact same spot where he was last seen?" Dustin finally asks, practically roaring it over the rain. I nod, fingers clenching tighter around my weapon.
"Why do you think I brought the bow?" I ask, not bothering to look back at him.
A sudden rustle and crunch has me stopping, and as quick as humanly possible I lift my bow in the direction of the noise. The boys huddle behind me.
"What?" Dustin asks, and Mike shushes him.
There's another rustle and I shift my body around, changing my weight and stance. Nothing. Nothing is there.
Something screeches in the distance. The boys stand aside as I point my arrow in the direction we've been walking from, only to see trees.
When my younger companions gasp I turn around, arrow pointed directly at a little kid's forehead. Their feet are bare and they're only wearing a big yellow shirt. So I narrow my eyes and walk closer, lowering my bow. The kid stumbles and I catch them, finally able to really see them. Soft, feminine.
Oh my God. It's a girl.