Chapter Text
Hand shaking, Steve punches in the number. She’s dialled it so much over the past month that she barely needs to check the scribbled piece of paper. It’s creased and grubby, with Dustin’s scrawl across it. The loopy twos, the seven with the little cross like European people do it because he saw it in some old book and thought it was cool. The new number in California that Will shared with the Party.
Steve had a lie on her tongue about keeping in touch with El, when she asked for it. But Dustin didn’t ask, just handed it over.
She listens to the buzz as it connects, then the same thing as always: the busy signal. She hangs up and rests her head against the kitchen cabinet with a groan.
It’s not school time in California, she thinks, looking at the clock and doing some mental math. Who is on the phone that early? It’s not like Jonathan or Will are early risers.
She’s not sure about El, but she can’t really see Hopper letting her lie in bed long. Maybe things are different with Joyce.
Steve pushes her hands into the small of her back, stretching out the ache. It’s semi-constant now, apparently something she’ll have to put up with until the baby comes. As if it knows she’s thinking about it, Bug kicks.
“I guess you are an early riser,” she says. She climbs back upstairs to brush her teeth, pick out clothes. The stretchy leggings and the long tunic shirt Robin found for her in the thrift store, with the wine-coloured boxy blazer over it. She studies herself in the mirror. She looks like she’s put on weight and is trying to hide it, but so far no one has connected that to ‘pregnant’. Or at least, not to her face.
She fixes her hair and puts on lipstick. Makes her way back to the kitchen to try again.
Steve listens to the Byers' constant busy signal ring out again and again, until she gives up, and puts the receiver back in the cradle and goes to pick up Robin.
“Hey,” she says to Robin later. “Can you ever get through to the Byers’ new place?”
“What makes you think I would call them?” Robin says, not looking up. She’s stickering some new cases with updated offers, moving the old new releases to the week-long loans.
Steve shrugs. “I don’t know, you were in the same class as Jonathan?”
“And that was the limit of our interaction,” Robin says. She slaps another yellow sticker on the front of Sleeping Beauty. “You really can’t get a hold of him?”
“Busy signal every time,” Steve says. “Like, I try at different times of day. Different days. Busy signal. Well, one time I got Will, but I couldn’t go through with asking for Jonathan so I just said, “wrong number,” and hung up.”
She’s not proud of it.
“Steve,” Robin says.
“I know, I know,” Steve says. “But it’s not like I’m not trying to tell him. I keep calling.”
“You’re sure you have the right number?” Robin says.
“Yes.” Steve points at her. “I just said, I got Will once. Mike says he can’t get through to El either. It’s always busy. Joyce has some kind of telemarketer job.”
Robin pushes herself back in the office chair so she can lean against Steve and look up at her.
“Guess all you can do is keep trying,” she says. “She can’t be selling- what was it?”
“The World Book Encyclopedia,” Steve says. Dustin had been disparaging about the quality of its scholarship.
“Encyclopedias. Every minute of every day.”
“It feels like she is,” Steve says. She’s almost resorted to talking to Nancy, seeing if she’s having any luck getting a hold of her boyfriend. Then she’d have to explain why though, and there’s no way she’s doing that.
Robin sticks on the last sticker and sets the tapes to the side. Steve picks them up and shelves them, slotting them all into place as today’s movie plays. Robin’s choice, so it’s almost incomprehensible and spread over two tapes. The phone rings and Robin answers it.
“Mrs Jennings calling again about that Lamaze tape,” Robin says as she puts the phone down. “I told her she could collect it tomorrow.”
“I keep forgetting to bring it in,” Steve says. She and Robin have been watching it and taking notes. Making up for all the classes Steve can’t get to because they clash with her shifts. The Lamaze place is a long drive, two towns over, and Keith isn’t especially flexible.
“I feel like we know it by heart now anyway,” Robin says. “Let one of the other pregnant women of Hawkins learn that you breathe both in, and out.”
“That pregnancy is a rapturous process of pure womanhood,” Steve says, mimicking the breathy voice over. “I know I feel super rapturous when I’m peeing every five minutes.”
She has to make a joke of it. It’s the only way not to feel terrified out of her mind.
Robin, because she’s the other part of her soul, senses it, and presses their hips together as they stand at the counter, side by side.
“We’ve got this,” she says. “I have my notes. No need for the video again. We’ve got a plan.”
“But what if you’re in school?” Steve says. “When it happens? You know the nurse said my due date was just after Spring Break and that’s soon.”
“Then you call and tell the school you’re my mom and my Grandma died and I need to leave. Then you drive to the hospital and I meet you there, using the emergency $10 to get a cab,” Robin says. “Just like we planned.”
“Ok,” Steve says. She closes her eyes briefly. “Ok. Good. And I don’t tell my mom until the baby is here.”
“You want to try Jonathan again on Keith’s dime?” Robin asks. “Not like we’re busy.”
“Still school time in California,” Steve says. “I’ll try when I get home.”
The weird crampy feeling comes again as she’s ringing up Mort Oliver’s fines and giving him his change.
“Have a good day,” she manages, and holds onto the edge of the counter until he’s out of the front door and she can collapse back onto the chair and rub her stomach as the feeling ebbs away.
“Steve. Steve,” Robin says, hand hovering over her shoulder nervously. “Are you ok? It’s not...not time for the plan?”
“No, I’m fine,” Steve says.
Robin looks extremely sceptical.
“Really, I am,” Steve insists. “I’ve been having these- the nurse called them something. Begins with a B. Branston – Hicks?”
Robin pulls out her little notebook and flips through it. “Braxton-Hicks,” she corrects.
“Yeah,” Steve says. “I freaked out the first time, called the clinic and they had me go in. But it’s normal apparently.”
“Normal?” Robin asks. “How- are you sure? You were holding your stomach. You sure it’s not?” She makes a gesture like someone’s sliding down a water slide.
“Normal!” Steve insists. Robin’s anxiety about her health is something she’s gotten used to, but she doesn’t have the heart to say it’s making her more scared. She’s scared enough about this most of the time as it is. “They said it’s basically like a cramp, not a contraction. I’ve been having them for a week, on and off. And it’s not baby time yet. I think I’ll know- you know? Be hard to miss. I’ve got weeks yet, anyway.”
“Does it hurt?” Robin asks.
“Kind of? It’s not that bad, it’s just weird. Different than Bug kicking. Always seems to take me by surprise, is all.”
“Does anything help with the pain?” Robin asks.
“Moving around, sometimes,” Steve says, and instantly realises her mistake when Robin shoves the pile of tapes from the returns box across the counter.
“Great,” she says. “You can put these away then.”
“And you’ll pick me up early tomorrow?” Robin asks as Steve pulls up in front of her house. “Is that still ok? It’s-”
“Gameday, I know,” Steve says. “I’ve been helping Lucas with his free throws all week.”
“Mrs Jeffries rearranged the band in the stands so now the clarinets are right next to the trumpets,” Robin says. “I have to make sure I’m on time so I can sit next to Vickie. It’s important.”
“I know,” Steve says. “We’ll get you there on time so you can continue your pining.”
The only response Robin has to that is a sigh.
That night Steve tries Jonathan again, and again. Always the same busy signal. She looks at the calendar on her desk and counts the days. Then she opens her dad’s office to find paper and an envelope.
“Dear Jonathan,” she begins.
She tucks the letter into her pocketbook, and makes a note to stop off for stamps in the morning after picking Robin up.
The morning is dragging, and Robin and Steve can’t agree over which movie to watch-
“Seriously, Robin, I let you have a double VHS once this week already and I draw the line at doomed love again.”
- so the TV over the kids’ corner is softly playing the local cable news. The anchor wraps up the sports section with:
“And finally, Hawkins Tigers basketball team ended their years-long championship drought with a buzzer-beating win last night. Congratulations boys, and don’t celebrate too hard!”
“I still can’t believe those little shits didn’t even go,” Steve says, as the news switches over to commercials. “It was the championship game. I told you that Munson was a bad influence.”
“You did,” Robin agrees. “Multiple times.” She’s making a pile of nickels on the counter, trying to beat Steve’s record, but places the top one wrong and the whole pile goes crashing down and scatters over the floor. Steve groans and crouches awkwardly to try and help pick them up.
“I nearly had it that time,” Robin says, reaching under the chair to grab the last one as the commercial break ends and the news switches back.
“…tragic death of a Hawkins High student…”
“What?” Steve says. “Shit, Robin did that say what I thought it did?” The TV is on pretty low and her ears are hit and miss sometimes.
“Death?” Robin says. “Yeah, I think it did.” She grabs the remote and turns the volume up.
“…breaking news of the unexplained death of what is believed to be a Hawkins High basketball player. As yet we are unable to name him, but we can confirm that the sheriff’s department are making door to door enquires in the Forest Hills area…”
“That backs onto the woods,” Robin breaths. “You don’t think- the thing that took Will and Barb came from the woods, right? You said?”
“It can’t be the Upside Down,” Steve says, even as panic grips her. She hasn’t heard from Lucas since the game. “It can’t. El closed all the gates. It’s the woods, it could be a wolf. Or. Or a bear? Shit, that’s where Max lives!”
The news cuts to a cop, one Steve doesn’t recognise, standing by some yellow crime scene tape stretched across a trailer.
“….this brutal, disturbing death. We’re appealing for any witnesses, and we’re naming Edward Munson as a person of interest in this case. Munson, if you’re watching, you need to come forward now.”
Robin’s mouth falls open. “He wouldn’t.”
The TV anchor is talking about bloody, violent injuries, multiple broken bones. Eye stuff. Steve feels sick.
“That doesn’t sound like Munson,” Robin repeats. “It has to be-it has to be the Upside Down.”
“Doesn’t he live at the trailer park?” Steve asks. “And I mean, Upside Down shit is like goo. Monsters. Not like, broken bones or, or scooped out eyes.”
“So, what’s the alternative?” Robin says, sounding panicked. She lowers the volume when they start repeating the call for Eddie to come forward. “Someone we went to school with brutally murdered a basketball star?”
Steve shrugs. She doesn’t really think Munson’s capable of murder, unless it’s through annoying someone to death. But she also doesn’t want to believe it could be the Upside Down. No Hopper. El the other side of the country. What chance do they have?
“Steve,” Robin chides. Steve throws her hands up in protest, about to say something, when the door to the store slams open and Dustin and Max storm through. No Lucas. Steve hopes it just means he’s still celebrating.
“Watch the GLASS,” Robin yells.
“I need the computer.” Dustin ignores her and hauls himself over the counter.
“What, no!” Steve blocks him from the keyboard. “And I want a word with both of you little shits, why weren’t you there last night? You missed Lucas’ big game!”
“Not the time,” Max says. “Apparently Eddie’s wanted for murder.”
“And he didn’t do it,” Dustin says. “I already told you that.”
“Well, the trailer park is crawling with cops looking for him,” Max says.
“Which is why he’s in hiding.” Dustin tries to elbow Steve to the side so he can get to the computer.
“Hey,” Robin says. “Fill us in.”
“There’s no time,” Dustin says, voice cracking. “We have to get to him before the cops do and I need your computer to do it.”
“Henderson, I can’t just let you on there,” Steve says. “That’s got like, everyone’s address and shit on it.”
“Exactly, so we can use it to find Reefer Rick!” Dustin says.
Robin mouths Reefer Rick and shakes her head.
“Max,” Steve says, “Dustin I get because Munson’s apparently way cooler than anyone else with his little nerd game, but why are you here?”
“Eddie’s place is near mine. There was someone at his place yelling. After the game. Then.” She shrugs, not meeting Steve’s eye. “It’s dumb. I had this-feeling. Just a really weird feeling. You know?” She rubs her forehead like she has a headache. Steve knows the feeling.
“Something bad?” Steve asks.
Max shrugs again, fingers making absent swirls on the counter. “I always feel bad,” she says, so quiet Steve can barely hear her.
Dustin’s voice interrupts whatever it was Max was going to say. He and Robin are elbowing each other at the computer.
“I have Eddie’s address,” Dustin says, voice raised. “We need Rick’s address. That’s where he’d hide!”
“And I’m supposed to look up- what? Mr Reefer?” Robin snaps, and they dissolve into bickering again.
“It was the lights,” Max says. “Last night. The electricity is for shit at the park anyway. But I saw some kid from the basketball team hammering at Eddie’s door after the game. Eddie let him in. Then about ten minutes later the lights flickered.”
“Some kid,” Steve asks. “Not Lucas?”
“No,” Max says. “Just one of the jerks he plays with.”
Steve wants to ask why she wasn’t at the game, why she wasn’t celebrating with Lucas. When she knows Lucas saved her tickets for each game. When she knows Max listens to each game on the radio, knows Lucas’ stats by heart. But Max is tense, hugging her arms around herself like the last thing she wants to do is talk about it.
“It’s back, isn’t it?” Max says. “The Upside Down. El failed.”
“We don’t know that,” Steve says, without much conviction. Her stomach flips again at the thought of it.
“I tried to call El when it happened, and again this morning,” Max says. “But-”
“Busy signal?” Steve guesses.
“Always,” Max says. “Though I guess today she’s gone to meet Mike at the airport.”
“Ok,” Robin says, cutting through the swirl of Steve’s thoughts. “Time for some lateral thinking here.”
Steve peers over her shoulder to see the list. Four Richards, and one Ricardo.
“Not that one,” Steve says, pointing to Fr Richard Kemp. “He’s a priest. Munson would disintegrate.” She still remembers one particularly strident table talk on the evils of organised religion. Her cookie had not survived.
“Richard Halloran’s like, in his nineties,” Robin says, fingers tapping away to bring up loan records. “This Ricardo is all kids cartoons,” She looks up and winks. “Not exactly drug dealer material- hah! Here we go.”
Max cranes her neck to see the screen. “I didn’t know Cheech and Chong made that many movies.”
“That has to be it,” Dustin says. He scribbles down the address. “Robin, you’re a genius.” He looks at Steve expectantly. “It’s out on Lover’s Lake. Will you give us a ride?”
“Can you wait forty minutes until the end of my shift?” she says. She’s still not sure it is the Upside Down. Maybe it’s more human monsters. Keith’s not going to be understanding either way.
“It could be the difference between LIFE and DEATH,” Dustin says. “Come on, Steve! This is important! Stop stalling.”
“No,” Steve says. “I need this job, Dustin, you know that. I can’t just leave in the middle of my shift and neither can Robin. You want a ride, you’ll have to wait.”
“Life and Death!” Dustin repeats. “Steve, there’s no-one here. We have to check.”
“Why,” Steve says. She shifts from foot to foot to ease the ache in her back. “Why is it always our job?” She still has nightmares. Robin can’t eat ice cream anymore, and both of them flinch at fireworks.
“You know we’re gonna go either way,” Max says. She looks kind of disapproving. “It has to be us. What use are the cops?”
“Plenty if it turns out it was a human and not the Upside Down,” Steve says.
“Eddie wouldn’t,” Dustin says vehemently. “He must be in hiding because he’s in danger too!”
“Then it won’t matter if we wait until my shift’s over and I don’t get fired, will it?” Steve says. Dustin persists in seeing her job as an inconvenience, but Steve’s putting away every cent she can. She’s gonna get fired as soon as Keith finds out about the baby anyway; there’s no point in that happening any earlier than it needs to.
“Hold that thought,” Robin says, dialling rapidly. “Hi, Brad?” Remember how I forgot to tell Keith about that thing? Well, I feel my memory coming back. Yeah, it might come back totally if you aren’t here in ten minutes. Steve and I need to leave early.”
There’s some annoyed squawking from the phone.
“It’s an emergency, ok?” Robin says. “My grandma. I’ll cover your next weekend shift.” She pauses. “And I’ll let you copy my Spanish notes. She never changes the tests. Ten minutes!”
She hangs up in the middle of Brad’s protests.
“Think you can wait ten minutes?” Robin says.
Dustin looks like he’s about to argue but slouches off to check the new releases, Max at his heels.
Brad makes it in just over ten minutes, but they don’t wait to listen to his complaints. Steve has her jacket on and keys in hand as soon as she sees him pull up. As soon as they’re all in the car, Max leans forward between the seats so she can open the glove box and grab the Midol Steve keeps in there.
“I have supplies if you need them,” Robin says softly. Steve normally keeps Tampax in there too, but it’s not like she’s needed them for a while.
“What? No, I’m fine,” Max says. “My head’s just killing me. Painkiller is painkiller, right?” She dry-swallows two pills as Steve peels out of the parking lot, then sits back down and pulls her headphones up over her ears.
Rick’s house is out on Lover’s Lake, not as far out of town as Jonathan’s old place, but certainly outside what passes as the population centre of Hawkins. Not many cars on the roads, and nothing parked outside the empty house.
“Maybe he hid the van,” Dustin says when Steve asks.
“This better not be a wild goose chase,” she says.
Dustin knocks on the door while Max peers through the windows. There’s no answer.
“Eddie,” Dustin calls, knocking again. “It’s Dustin, we’re here to help.”
“I don’t think he’s here,” Robin says. “There’s no car or anything anywhere, how did he even get here. It’s too far to like, run from the trailer park.”
Max wanders away towards the shores of the lake.
“Max?” Steve calls. “You ok?”
They catch up with her, Dustin jogging ahead, so he can see what she’s pointing at. A boathouse, ramshackle jetty sticking out into the water with a small boat moored to it, bobbing up and down with the wind on the lake.
“We might as well check,” Robin says. “Since we’re here.”
The door looks like it was padlocked once, but the bracket to attach the lock is hanging loose. Steve pushes the door open cautiously, but Dustin shoulders past her, calling,
“Eddie? Eddie!” softly.
The boathouse is small and dim. Dustin pulls a flashlight out of his backpack and swings the beam around. It touches on piles of coiled rope, odds and ends of paint and one broken oar. Broken glass crunches under Steve’s sneakers.
Max pokes around in the corners.
“This is useless,” Steve says. The boathouse is cold, damp. She can’t imagine anyone being here if they could be in the house up the path instead. “Dustin, your friend isn’t here.”
“He’s hiding,” Dustin insists. “Eddie, it’s us, it’s Dustin and Max! And Robin, and Steve, you know? From school? You’re safe. Come out.”
Robin leans down to peer under a stack of flattened cardboard boxes.
“I think you’re out of luck, kid.” she says.
Steve makes her way to the double doors that lead out to the jetty. The grey daylight filters in around the edges. She rubs her arms against the clinging damp. There’s a kayak pulled up just inside the doors, piled with tarps. Outside, the water slaps against the jetty.
“Munson?” she calls just in case he’s under there. Nothing. She picks up the broken oar and pokes at the tarps. They rustle.
“What are you doing?” Dustin asks.
“Just checking,” Steve says. She pokes again, feeling resistance. Something soft.
“I think there-” she says, but something grabs the end of the oar and yanks. Instinct takes over and she pulls it back hard, changing her grip like it’s a bat, as a shape stands up out of the kayak, shedding the tarp. In the dim light of the boathouse, it looks threatening, monstrous, and Steve spins the oar. Something whistles past her head and shatters on the opposite wall and then Eddie Munson is yelling at her and waving a bottle, broken edges jagged, inches from her face.
“Stay back, I didn’t do it!” he yells, voice cracking. He feints forward with the bottle.
Steve takes a step back. “Get that thing out of my face,” she yells back and shuffles all the way out of stabbing range. He might throw something again, but she’s confident in her ability to dodge. She raises the oar just in case.
Munson looks around and seems to realise who they are.
“You- shit, you’re not the cops.” he says, but still looks ready to cut someone.
“Hey heyyy, shhh. Eddie. Eddie.” Dustin steps between Steve and Munson, heedless of the jagged glass pointed at him. “It’s me, it’s Dustin, It’s ok.”
“Henderson?” Munson sounds lost, his arm wavers, but he doesn’t let go of the bottle.
“Me, and look. Here’s Max. And Steve, and Robin. You know Robin.”
“Robin?”
“From band, remember?” Robin says. She mimes playing her trumpet. “Doodle-oodle-do.”
“None of are going to hurt you,” Dustin says, placing his hand on his heart. “Swear on my mother. Steve was just startled.”
Steve nods. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” She takes another step back and tries to pull Dustin with her out of harm’s way, but he’s not twelve anymore and he’s harder to move. He stands his ground. “I swear on Ma- on Dustin’s mother.”
“Harrington?” Munson says, like he recognises her for the first time. “What are you all doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Dustin says. He touches Munson’s hand, the one grasping the bottle. “Let’s sit down. You’re safe, it’s ok.” He gently uncurls Munson’s fingers from around the bottle, repeating, “Shhh shhh it’s ok, you’re safe,” the way he does to the feral cats Dustin and Ma trap and neuter. It seems to be working because Munson lets him put the bottle aside and suddenly sags, all bravado gone. He steps out of the kayak and slides down to sit on the floor.
“Shit.” He rubs his hands across his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare anyone. Did I cut you, Harrington?”
“I dodged,” she says.
Dustin urges Munson up from the floor and onto the bench. He looks like he’s shaking minutely. Steve feels a little shaky herself. Robin puts her hand on her shoulder briefly.
“Why are you all here?” Munson asks again. “How did you find me? Did they send you to bring me in? I didn’t DO anything!” He shifts in place, twitchy, like he’s about to bolt.
“We know, we know,” Dustin says. “We know you wouldn’t hurt anyone. We believe you.” He glares at Steve. “We ALL believe you. Max saw something at the trailer park too, and Robin and Steve helped us find you. It was my idea to look for Reefer Rick.” He puffs up, proud.
“Speaking of, why the boathouse?” Robin asks, looking around. “The main house has like, electricity.”
“Harder to find here,”Munson says. “I didn’t do it, but I knew they’d come for me. People like- like me. We get blamed.”
Robin looks at him again, head tilted, and nods slowly.
“Hunt the freak, right,” she says.
“Right.” Munson laughs hollowly. “Anyway, it’s easier to hide here.”
“From the cops?” Max asks.
“The cops. And what-whatever it was that killed Andy.”
“And what was that?” Steve asks.
“I don’t know man, I don’t know!” Munson puts both hands in his hair, gripping at the curls. He stares at Dustin. “This all sounds insane, what’s the point in telling you?”
“Because we’ll believe you,” Max says. “All of us.”
Munson looks up to Steve, then to Robin. She nods encouragingly.
“Whatever you saw, we can help,” Steve says. “We’ve probably seen weirder.”
“Andy was at your trailer,” Robin says. “So maybe start from there. What was he doing there?”
Munson shrugs. “Just some business,” he says. “Earlier that day, I’d sold him some pot, just my normal stuff, and some E. Said he wanted that for the after party.”
“After party?” Dustin asks.
“For the basketball,” Steve says. “Guess he was pretty sure they were gonna win.”
“He paid me, I thought that was it,” Munson says. He hugs his jacket around him. “Then yesterday night, pretty late, I was at home and he comes hammering on the trailer door. Saying I must have laced the pot, he’s seeing things, hearing things.”
He trails off.
“And then?” Max prompts.
“He wouldn’t stop yelling. Saying he was going to go to his uncle, if I didn’t let him in.”
“His uncle a cop?” Robin asks.
Munson shakes his head with a rueful smile. “No, worse. He’s on the school board. I’m so close to graduating. Andy said if I didn’t fix whatever it was I did to him, he’d see to it I didn’t graduate.” He looks up and grins weakly at Dustin. “Much as I’d love to spend even more time with Henderson here, I can’t do it again.”
“What did you give him?” Steve asks. Dustin glares at her. “What?” she says. “If the kid was on a bad trip, it’s fair to ask.”
“I didn’t give him anything weird; it wasn’t me!” Munson says a little wildly. “No one will believe me, but it wasn’t!”
“We’d believe you, if you tell us,” Dustin says. He sits next to Munson ignoring the broken glass. “Go ahead.”
“He wouldn’t quit yelling, so I let him in,” Munson continues. “I figured if he was having some screwed up reaction, he could ride it out in the trailer and then I’d kick him out. I told him I was getting him something to help bring him down then went to get him a glass of water. When I came back, he was just-standing there.”
“Tripping?” asks Steve.
“Just, frozen. He didn’t blink, or, or answer to his name. It’s like he was gone.” Munson draws a long, rattling breath. Dustin pats his shoulder. “Then- this is so stupid. The lights started going haywire.”
Steve feels her stomach drop. A cold, icy fear. Robin swears under her breath.
“Then.” Munson drags a hand down his face. “He started- he floated up. In the air. Like. He was fucking levitating. Then, oh god I swear I’m not making this up. His arms, legs, even his fingers. They- snapped. Cracked like twigs.”
Bile rises in Steve’s throat. Max presses her hands over her mouth like she’s going to be sick.
“Then, fuck. Blood. Pouring out of his face, nose, ears. His eyes exploded, man.” Munson trails off and takes some deep breaths. His face is wet. “Then he dropped to the floor and I got the hell out of there and I’ve been here ever since.”
The boat house echoes with silence. Dustin swears softly under his breath, over and over like he’s not aware he’s doing it.
“I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me,” Munson says. “I don’t believe it and I saw it.”
“Hey no, we believe you,” Dustin says.
“Unfortunately, we’ve seen this before,” Max says.
Munson scrubs the cuff of his shirt over his face. “You’ve seen someone’s bones snap like fucking pretzel sticks?” he says. He looks grey. Small. So different to Dustin’s stories of him or Steve’s own hazy high school memories.
“No,” Max says evenly. “No that’s a new one, but the lights going crazy. Weird shit like that.”
“Was there anything else weird?” Robin asks.
“Other than the LEVITATING?” Munson says, on the edge of manic.
“Smoke. Goo. Anything like that?” Steve asks. She’s not sure the Mindflayer could lift people up without touching them. She thought only El could do that.
“Monsters?” Dustin asks. “Something with way too many teeth?”
Eddie looks between them all, eyes huge, panicky. Dustin softens his voice in a way Steve’s rarely heard. He’s certainly more careful with Munson than he’s ever been with her. “We believe you,” Dustin continues. “We just need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.”
“You’ve really dealt with this before?” Munson says. He takes a cigarette packet out of his pocket and chucks it across the room in frustration when he finds that it’s empty.
“Dustin and Max and Steve are old hands,” Robin says. “I only saw the weird flesh goo monster. Others were more, uh, smoke-based.”
“Demogorgons too,” Steve says.
“Only not really,” Dustin says quickly. “The monster is real, but it’s not like a prince of Hell-type demogorgon. We just needed a name for it.”
“That’s the thing with the teeth,” Max says. “Way too many of them.”
“There are things- bad things. In Hawkins. Under Hawkins. That we’re really not supposed to talk about,” says Robin.
“Although actually neither me or Max are legally old enough to sign contracts or legal documents so technically we can,” Dustin says, one finger raised. “The NDAs aren’t valid.”
“Dustin,” Steve says, “not the time.” Munson looks like he’s about to lose it again. He wraps his arms around himself like he’s cold. “How about we get Munsonout of this freezing boathouse before you rearrange his entire world.”
“Where would I go?” Munson says. “I can’t go back home.”
“No.” Max shakes her head. “It’s crawling with cops.”
“Up to the house?” Steve asks. “I mean it’s not like Rick’s using it.”
“The cops did a drive by,” Munson says. “I heard the car, that’s when I hid in the boat.”
“Well, if they’ve been once, they’re not likely to come again?” Robin suggests. “Coast is clear now, anyway.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” Munson says.
“Parallel dimension under Hawkins, we call it the Upside Down, monsters can get through, but we thought we’d closed the gates. If they are getting through again that’s bad news because our superhero friend has suffered an X-men 184,” Dustin rattles off.
“A what?” Steve says.
“Lost her powers,” Max says. “Like Storm.”
“Who’s-never mind,” Steve says.
“It’s even worse because you didn’t see the thing, which means it isn’t something we’ve dealt with before,” Dustin says, “So I think we need to bring the rest of the party in, which sucks because half of them are in California.”
“Parallel dimensions are real?” Munson says.
“Unfortunately,” Max says. She sniffs and rubs her hand over her nose. It leaves a streak of red.
“Shit, did some flying glass get you?” Eddie asks. He fumbles in his back pocket and produces a bandana. “Not a handkerchief but feel free.”
“I’m fine,” Max says. She rubs her face again and frowns at the blood. “It’s just a nosebleed, no cuts.” She digs a Kleenex out of her jacket and presses it against her nose.
“So there’s a parallel dimension under…Hawkins?” Munson says, looking down at the floor of the boathouse like he’s expecting something to burst through it.
“Sort of only metaphorically but also sort of literally,” Robin says. “Normally it needs uh, a big machine or someone with powers like our friend to open the way. And our friend doesn’t have her powers now so-”
“You’re sure there was nothing else?” Steve asks again. “Like, if you saw a weird monster thing, or like, uh...like a weird red portal thing? We will believe you. There’s no point leaving anything out.”
“No portal, no monster,” Munson says. “Andy just.” He moves his hand up in the air, jerkily. “Then all his bones snapped and shit….” His voice wavers and trails off. “I’ll believe the parallel dimension thing because that was sure as shit nothing from this world.”
“If there’s no gate how did- whatever got Andy- get through?” Robin asks.
“We need to investigate,” Dustin says, “Go to the park, look for clues.”
“The park that’s, as Max said, crawling with cops?” Steve asks. “Besides, Munson’s already said he didn’t see anything. Why would we be able to?”
“We’re seasoned investigators,” Dustin says. “It’s not like Powell or whatever knows what to look for, and Eddie might have missed something.”
“Also, I’d like to know if my home’s about to get swallowed up by the Upside Down,” Max says. “If it came to Eddie’s trailer, it could come to mine.”
“You could-” Munson says, then stops, shoulders slumping. “Never mind.”
“Could what?” Robin asks.
“If you go, can you find my Uncle?” Munson asks. “Wayne. He works nights. Tell him. Tell him I’m ok? That I didn’t do it? Check that it- it didn’t get him?”
“We will,” Steve says. “We’ll make sure he’s ok.”
It’s a promise she’s not sure they can keep, but Munson looks relieved. Dustin gives him a crash course in walkie talkie operation, and they escort him to Rick’s house once Robin promises the coast is clear. He’s clutching Max’s walkie, door locked firmly behind him, as they pile back into the car, and head for Forest Hills.