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kilojulietsierra · 4 months ago

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I Don't Have A Best Friend (Dr Abbot & Dr Robby and their 'not friends' friendship)

Summary: The universe put them together in this hell hole and they made the best of it. They are like brothers/best friends... that doesn't mean they always have to be happy about it. Especially when Jack's wife decides she needs to set Robby up with a cute nurse friend.

(Honestly this one is for fun because I love them both, but ALSO this one sets up my next fic which will be Dr Robby x Reader.)

TW: this one is honestly pretty fun, tame and fluffym sarcastic doc bros, mentions of age gap, male friendships, Jack and his wife have basically, taken Robby in like a stray puppy, nerves about being set up on blind date, Dana and Jacks wife are in cahoots, some allusions to smut, healthy established relationship, alcohol

Features Dr Jack Abbott x nursewife!ofc from "Send Me An Angel" if you would like to check that out CLICK HERE!

~~~~~

Jack and Robby stood on opposite sides of the counter as Jack packed up his bag, "Chairs is packed, no shocker there. You got homeless guy vs car in South 7 waiting to go up, West 2 is a college kid, pumped his stomach, just gotta wait for him to come back around, PD should be here soon to talk to the guy in Central 7. Strange case of selective amnesia." When Robby cocked an eyebrow Jack looked up from his phone, "Can't seem to remember how he ended up to two nine mil slugs in his leg."

Robby shook his head, "Hate when that happens. What else we got?"

Jack checked his phone again and then shoved it in his pocket, "Oh yeah, North 5, surgery should be hear any minute for him. Was cleaning the ceiling fan, naked,"

"As one does." Robby interjected.

"and fell on the TV remote."

Robby gave a low whistle and shook his head, trying not to chuckle. "Perf?"

"Lucky for him, no." Jack grabbed his truck keys and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "If the wife shows up, have someone show her up to the surg floor waiting area. He can explain it to her when he wakes up or surgery can."

"Can't wait." Robby took probably the last drink of his still hot coffee he would get then called after his colleague, "See you Sunday right?"

WIthout turning around or even slowing down his steps Jack called back a simple, "Yeah."

~~~

Robby parked in the driveway behind Jacks truck and walked in through the garage. He let himself in and called out, "Knock, knock!"

Almost immediately Sam called back, "Hey! come on in!" He found her in the living room folding a blanket and tidying up,

"Hey sweetheart." Robby walked over to her and gave her a hug which she gladly returned. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too." She tossed the blanket over the back of the couch, "Jack's out back. Make yourself at home, beer in the fridge in the garage, think he opened a bottle of bourbon too." Then she was off to some other room like she was on a mission.

Robby smiled. He had always liked Jacks wife, God knew how he found the one woman on the planet that would put up with him but he did it. He knew the way around their house so he walked to the patio door and let himself out.

The patio had a stone fireplace and a TV, some monstrosity of a grill, bbq, smoker combination and an outdoor couch and chairs. The TV was on the pregame, commentary already going, and Jack was stretched out on 'his' corner of the couch.

He looked tired, annoyed even at having to be awake while the sun was out. "Hey brother," He spared Robby only a glance then went back to the TV, "Grab a drink." Jack motioned to the bourbon on the table and the lone empty glass.

"How was last night?" Robby reached for the bottle, read it with a nod and popped the top off to pour himself a couple fingers. "Fuckin' sucked." He sipped his bourbon and sat up a little straighter on the couch, "Shen get's on my fuckin' nerves some days."

Robby lauged as he dropped down into one of the chairs, "I can see that."

"If he wasn't so damn unflappable I'd hate him." "

You hate everyone."

"I'd hate him extra."

He chuckled again and let his gaze shift to the TV, "House smells good."

Jack finally looked his way, "Sam started some chilli last night, she was off."

"Oh hell yeah." Not only did his wife have the patience of an angel and the backbone of a strongside linebacker, she could fucking cook. "Is it the one with the brisket and venison and all that?"

His friend slowly nodded.

"Hell yeah." Robby repeated himself and sipped at the bourbon.

The patio door swung open and Samantha appeared dressed in scrubs. "Alright you two play nice, don't wreck my house."

"Yes ma'am." Jack and Robby mumbled in unison.

She chuckled as she came around the couch and braced a knee on the cushion so she could lean over Jack and give him a kiss. He reached up and put a hand on her hip and chased after a second kiss. "Have a good night."

Robby had to avert his gaze to avoid feeling like a creep. "I'll try." She gave him one last kiss then stood up, Jacks hand slipping slowly from her hip as she pulled away.

"Text me when you get there." He added as he watched her walk around to the back of the couch.

"I will." She combed her fingers through her husbands curls once as she passed behind him.

Robby had to look away again to focus on the TV. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder as Sam gave it a squeeze. He gave her a smile, "Have fun." He gave it a teasing, lilty little tune as he said it and earned a grin back.

"You know I try." She gave his shoulder a last squeeze and was gone.

~~~~~~

A short while later Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket as it chimed. Sam must have made it to work. He snorted and put the phone down on the couch next to him.

"What?" Robby knew him too well, he had a bad feeling.

Jack sighed, sipped his bourbon, and never looked away from the Steelers playing. "She wants to set you up with someone."

"Jesus Jack."

"Don't bitch at me. I said she wants too, you can stay miserable and alone for all care."

"Does she really think i'm that hopeless."

"Apparently."

"Do you two, just, not remember what happened last time?" Robby kept his eyes glued to the TV, but couldn't even tell who hod possession of the ball.

Jack scoffed, "You and Collins were good." He took a sip of his drink and smirked into the glass, "Until you weren't."

"Fuck off. Besides, that ship has sailed." Robby looked down at the glass in his hand, "Just, give it a rest brother." He paused to take a sip, "We can't all find the love of our life in a war zone at 29."

His friend actually laughed, though it had a little darkness behind it, "Like a God damned fairy tale." He knocked back the last of his bourbon and sat up to stretch for the bottle.

Deciding they were committed to this conversation, because he knew good and well Sam wouldn't let it go, therefore neither could Jack, "She get's it though. Any woman I've ever… got close to… this fucking job…"

Jack looked his way with his usual frown and nodded, "This fucking job." He leaned back into the cushions, "Just let her try man. You know she won't let it go."

"Fuck me… She really thinks I'm hopeless."

"She's wanted to do it since you and Janey, but I've been holding her off."

"Gee thanks." Robby scoffs and scratches at his beard.

They were quiet for a long moment. The Steelers actually ran a touchdown, so they had something else to focus on.

Jacks phone dings again and he looks at it, his lips twitch up for barely a second as he texts her back. No doubt it's Sam. "It helps you know."

The softness in his voice catches Robby off guard. That tone is reserved for students, for kids that come in to the ER scared and hurting.

He expounded, "Havin' someone, it helps."

Robby thought long and hard, finished his own drink, and responded, "Not in my experience."

~~~~~

"What'd he say?" Sam's voice carried over the running water of the shower.

"Leeave the guy alone." Jack picked up his razor and waited before he turned it on, stood with it raised halfway to his face.

"Well, not like he's gonna do it himself."

"Babe..." He warned as be flipped the razor on and cleaned up the stubble from a couple days off in a row.

The shower shut off, "He's a great guy. He's good looking, he's intelligent, he's sweet and funny, a badass doctor.

Jack tipped his chin up to get his neck, "Somethin' I should know?" He watched her in the mirror as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel.

She gave him a look as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Shut up." She bit the back of his shoulder a little harder than necessary, then pressed a kiss to the same spot. "Do you know how many hours of my life I've spent listening to girls complain about how there's no good men left?" She watched over his shoulder as wiped his freshly shaven face, "Too many." She kissed him between the shoulder blades and squeezed him a little tighter, the fingers of her right hind tracing a shape over his hip.

He saw the thought cross her mind, her eyes giving her away as her fingers drifted a little closer towards the illiac furrow. Jack set the shaver down and caught her hand before it dipped any lower and started something they didn't have time to finish.

Behind him she grinned mischeviously and nipped at his shoulder again. WIth a hard look her way in the mirror he pulled her arms tighter around him, her damp, warm skin so soothing against his own. "We both know you're going to do it regardless of what I think."

"You know me so well." She mumbles her response into his shoulder as she hugs him tight.

~~~~~

"Wake up." Robby slapped Abbot on the chest as he took the seat next to him.

Jack, who sat slouched back in one of the conference room chairs with his arms crossed and his chin tucked to his chest, eyes closed, did not move an inch. "I'm awake."

With a chuckle Robby set the second cup of coffee he brought in front his friend. "Long night?"

"Night was fine, last hour sucked." He finally cracked his eyes open and reached for the coffee. "Cops chased a kid in a stolen car across the seventh street bridge. He 1050ed and took five other cars out with him. We saw nine MVC patients 40 minutes before end of shift."

"Love that. Weekend off?"

"Mhmm. Soon as this shit show is over." Abbot took another sip of coffee and let his eyes slip closed again as Gloria began the monthly attendings meeting. Less than two minutes into her spiel Abbot leaned over, "Why do I have to be here again?"

"Theoretically speaking," Robby whispered back, "You are in a possition of authority."

"Could've fooled me."

Robby snorted out a laugh and hid it by drinking some of his coffee. Next to him he heard a phone vibrate and he watched out the corner of his eye as Jack pulled his out and read a text. When he smirked Robby's interest piqued. Jack held his phone out to show him.

it was a text from Sam, or as the contact at the top of the screen read: Sam Abbott green heart emoji Wife/ICE. The text read, "Hope your circus monkey training goes by fast. Tell Robby she asked about him again last night."

Robby scowled, "Too early for that shit man."

"She won't let it go, you know that."

"Gentlemen," Gloria raised her voice from the head of the table. "Is my meeting interrupting your little chat?" She scolded them like boys in primary school.

With his most charming tone Robby raised his own voice to match her, "We were actually just discussing a recent study on emergency department staff burnout rates."

Jack, face stone cold and sour added without missing a beat, "It's up to fifty percent in nurses, nearly sixty in doctors. 'Case you were curious."

Robby smiled, Jack glared, and Gloria cleared her throat, "As I was saying…"

~~~~~

Robby came up to the nursing station, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. He furrowed his brow and cocked his head to one side, "You..." He pulled out one hand to point, "You do not work here."

Sam rolled her eyes and gladly accepted his hug. "Playing Uber driver. Jack's truck is in the shop." "

You mean he's not doing the work himself?"

"Don't even. It took me a week to convince him he didn't have the time and to just take it in." She leaned over the counter, "Actually...speaking of stubborn assholes..."

Robby chuckled and shook his head, "Don't even."

"If you don't like her all you have to do is tell me! I'll let her down easy, you'll owe me, but I'll do it."

"I'm sure shes' a perfectly lovely woman." He kept his voice down low and hoped she'd take his lead.

She did not. "But?

"He's chicken shit." Her husband appeared behind Robby so he could log something at a computer station.

"Isn't it time for you leave?" Robby made a show of looking at his watch.

"Rob-byyyy, come on."

"I am not having this conversation here."

Sam sighed dramatically, "C'monnnn, don't you trust me?"

Robby shoved his hands back in his pockets, "I trust you. I trust you to make intelligent and informed medical decisions, I would trust you to borrow my truck, I trust you to murder your husband in his sleep and get away with it." Jack's glare didn't slow him down a bit. "I would trust you to... recommend a restaurant or take down an armed combatant with hand to hand combat if the need arose. Hell, I would trust you to perform minor to intermediate surgery unsupervised, but no, I do not trust you to set me up on a blind date." He half whispered, half hissed the last two words.

She completely ignored his tirade, "You wouldn't even have to say anything. Just nod your head for yes and shake your head for no."

Jack came to his rescue, backpack over his shoulder, "Okay, we are leaving." He came around the station and put a loving but motivating hand on her hip and pushher away towards the door. Jack and Robby exchanged a nod of solidarity as the pair of them left.

Once the door closed behind the Abbots Robby sighed and scratched the back of his neck. When he turned around to get everyone gathered up for rounds he found Dana behind him. "Good morning."

"Good morning." She gave him a cheery smile, "So, what's the deal with this cutie from the VA?"

Robby hung his head and couldn't help but laugh, "Seriously? She told you?"

She looked offended, "It's Sammy. Of course she told me, now quit dodging."

"Sounds like you know as much as I do." He stepped around her, ready to walk away.

That didn't stop her at all, "She's cute, she's smart! Why are you avoiding it? What's one date going to hurt?" Robby stops and takes in a deep, calming breath through his nose. "It's not the one date I'm worried about."

Realization dawned on her and she nodded. Sympathetic. "She could be your last first date... I'm just sayin'."

~~~~~

"Alright, I got this, get the hell out of here." Robby hovered over Abbots shoulder while he finished notes on a patient file.

"I'm going." Jack kept typing.

"I'm serious, get out." He scowled down at him. "Don't make me call securtiy."

Jack snorted as he logged out of the computer and stood up, "Too scared to kick me out yourself?"

To anyone that didn't know the two of them, the way Abbot stepped forward and squared up to Robby, the look they gave each other, would have been concerning to say the least.

Robby just crossed his arms, "Go. Home."

Dana walked around the counter, "C'mon you two, break it up."

Jack smirked, "Lucked out." He leaned down to grab his backpack, "Sam wants you to come over for dinner Friday."

As he took the seat Jack had just vacated Robby spun around on the chair, "What's the occasion?"

"How should I know? I just live there." Jack walked out from behind the nurses station. Matching Robby''s stare the whole way.

When it clicked for him Robby groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, "You've got to be shitting me, for real?"

"Don't bitch at me. You want to have that argument, you call her yourself."

"She really does think I'm a lost cause, huh?"

"Apparently."

Robby groaned again, a hint of resignation in it. "Who is it?"

Jack shrugged, "I don't know, probably one of her nurses."

Robby cocked an eyebrow, "Little cliche don't you think? The whole doctor nurse thing?" He took a cheap shot at his colleague because he felt like he deserved it.

"Go to hell." He stepped back from the counter, "SIx o'clock. Don't piss my wife off."

~~~~~~

Jack watched Sam as she walked back and forth through the kitchen, "You're acting like you're the one getting set up with a stranger." He leaned against the entryway into the kitchen with his arms crossed. When she paused to look at him he smirked and pushed off from his spot to approach her. "C'mere." He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him as he settled back against the counter.

His wife rolled her eyes, but went with it and sank into him. "Want it to go well. Want him to be happy."

When Jack snorted she gave him a look.

"Ok, I want him to be less miserable."

That made him smirk as he lets his hold on her slide lower, until he could slip his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "I'm miserable to you know…" He left it open ended, like maybe she could 'help him out'.

"You've always been miserable." She responds without pause.

"Watch it." He cocked an eyebrow at her as he pulled a hand back and gave her a swat on the ass.

Sam had to fight back the smile when she challenges him, "Don't tell me what to do." She leaned in a little further, "I outrank you. Remember?" She pointed a finger, jabbed it into his chest, "Sargent." Then pointed to herself, "Lieutenant."

Face still as unreadable as always he captured her hand in his, finger still pointed, "We ain't in the Army any more, baby." He used her own finger to point to her chest, "Nurse." Then turned her finger towards himself and pressed it against his sternum. "Doctor."

Before she could argue, he saw it flash across her face that she was going to, he grabbed her other hand quick. He twisted them around behind her back so she can't reach him, and used the position to wrap his arms around her and pull her in to a kiss. Once she relaxed, hummed happily, and leaned into him he released her hands. He grinned against her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He pulled back a breath, "Good girl." and then she bit his lip, hard, which made him chuckle and only kiss her harder.

"Knock, knock!"

They pulled apart. Sam let out a little frustrated groan and Jack licked his top lip as he gave her ass one last squeeze. He pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, "I'm goin' to finish that later." Then he was on his way back out to check on the grill.

~~~~~

Robby found Sam in the kitchen, 'One of These Nights' by the Eagles played over the TV sound bar and he could smell the wood smoke through the open patio door from where Jack had something on the smoker.

"Ohhh, Jack's gonna be pissed." She giggled with a wicked smile as she met him halfway for a hug.

"As opposed to normal?" He gave her a squeeze.

"Yes. because he thought you'd bail. Now he owes me." She was still grinning as she stepped back from him.

Robby shook his head, "Don't want to know." Sam reached for the bottle of wine he held in his hand, but he pulled it back, held it out of her reach. "What exactly am I getting myself into here?"

She reached for it again, rolling her eyes at his antics, but he only held it out further. "Answer the question."

"Just relax, if it doesn't work out it doesn't work out, but... obviously you come up in conversation sometimes and one of the girls from work has showed some interest." She can see, clearly, that Robby is regretting his decision to go through with this. "Stop it. She's an RN, she's working at the VA while she finishes her masters. She's smart, she's sweet, she's young and pretty and a great nurse. I wish I had 5 more of her."

"How young?"

Sam had apparently hoped he'd gloss over that one. "Not like sketchy young, don't be gross." She tried to brush it off.

"Sam..." He tilted his head to one side and stared her down.

She just shrugged, "Jacks older than me, besides that's usually how it goes."

"By like five years. Not the point. How young is she Sam?"

"He's seven years older actually." She must see on his face she wouldn't talk her way out of it, because she offered up, "She's just a couple years younger than me."

"Sam!" His eyes go wide and he looks a little offended, "I'm going to be fifty fucking years old soon!"

"We all know you're old." Jack interrupted from the doorway as he walked into the kitchen. He slapped Jack on the back with one hand and took the bottle of wine with the other.

Robby scoffed and then scowled at him, "You're not far off either brother, just wait."

"Okay so she's younger, so what? She sure doesn't seem to mind." The look on her face makes it clear she's trying to fluster him. Throw him off.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jack reappears beside them and hands a glass of wine to his wife and holds out a bourbon to Robby, "It apparently means you're 'sexy as fuck', which I deeply regret ever having to hear or repeat."

"Sam...I love you," Robby starts off, "but I am going to kill you."

"C'mon," Jack grabbed him and turned him around with a push, "Arguing won't make it better. Trust me."

Outside on the patio Robby stared out over the pool into the back yard and scratched at the back of his neck. "Why did I agree to this?"

"She's hard to say no to."

"Do you know this woman?" Robby felt like he was grasping at straws, trying to find any reason to believe this wouldn't blow up in his face.

Jack, his supposed best friend, just shrugged, "Never met her. Sam mentions her, but I don't know. She says she's smart, cool under pressure. Think they've hung out outside of work some."

Robby shook his head, "I can't date a woman in her thirties."

Drink in one hand and flipping steaks on the grill with the other Jack looked at him, "I'm married to a woman in her thirties. What's it matter?"

He laughed, self deprecating as ever, "Thirty nine, Jack, your wife is thirty nine, and for how many more months? You're also a lot closer to thirty than I am brother. Besides, you two have have been married for like twenty fucking years."

Jack didn't correct him, it hadn't quite been twenty years yet, instead he shut the grill and walked over to his corner of the outdoor couch, "Might be good for you." He dropped down to sit with a groan and took a sip of his bourbon.

A little reluctant Robby also took a seat and scratched at his jaw. He took a sip of the bourbon and stopped. "Oh, this is good."

Jack nodded "Broke out a bottle of the good stuff." He took a sip of his own, "Thought we might need it."

Robby scoffed, "We?" Glass raised back up to his lips, Jack smirked into his drink, "This is goin' to be painful for all of us."

Robby laughed, actually laughed, "Fuck off."

~~~~~ The End~~~~~~

The story continues!

Baby, It's Alright - Chapter One

#dr jack abbot #dr robby #the pitt #dr jack abbott #the pitt fanfic #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbott #dr michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch #dr robby x reader #doc bros #Dr Jack Abbot x ofc #Dr Jack Abbott x ofc #not friends friendship #noah wyle #shawn hatosy #the pitt max #the pitt hbo

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skyfallslayer · 1 month ago

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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter 9

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Season 2 Summary: One Year after the strange disappearance of Will & Stephanie, all their hard work to contain their sanity starts to unravel when something from the Upside Down comes looking for them. Not sure what to do, they turn to their loved ones, hoping that they can put a stop to the evil that's spreading and destroying their town once again. Because in the Fall of 1984... everything changes once again.

🎲Chapter Summary: As the town preps for Halloween, a high-scoring rival shakes things up in the arcade. Meanwhile, Will starts seeing things that aren’t there, Steph starts going downhill when she finally starts to feel better, and a skeptical Hopper inspects a field of rotting pumpkins.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 10,074

🎲Date: 6/5/25

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; Implied Bullying; Heavy Guilt; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implied Mental Health Issues; Mentioning of Dying/Being Killed; Smoking; Mention of Life Threatening Injuries; Scars; Blood; Nightmares; Implied Child Abuse; Slight Stalking. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Hello, everyone! Welcome to Season 2! I'm so excited to be back and ready to give you guys more. This chapter, I'll admit, is a little all over the place since it's introducing a lot of storylines right off the bat. But I promise you that the next chapter won't be as messy. There's also a few things I'm going to point out for S2.

1) Dr. Owens isn't showing up just yet. Because Will & Steph were taken to a regular hospital last chapter rather than the Lab's one, he won't be in this for a while.

2) The "Lost Sister" episode is going to be MIA. Since that's an El-Centric episode, it won't matter to this plot. Instead, and with good news, that episode will reveal Steve & Steph's pasts (Yay!). I'm super excited to write that one.

And finally, 3) This whole season will be dealing with some heavy topics with certain characters. Obviously I'll warn you beforehand, but just be prepared when reading forward. Alrighty! Enough of my rambling. Enjoy the chapter!

On a cool Autumn night, Dustin Henderson nearly collided with his older sister in the hallway. The youngster hit the brakes, mere inches away from slamming into her shoulder as she rushed out her bedroom with a hand over her mouth.

“‘Scuse me–” She mutters, as she slips past him for another room.

“Sorry!” He replies, heading into the living room and overturning every couch cushion for some quarters. “Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!” He takes the coin into his hands and throws it harshly. “Another stupid penny!”

His mother flinches as the coin nearly hits her and her companion. “Dusty, watch it! You almost hit Mews.”

Dustin sighs, before bringing out the pleading eyes. “Can I please check under your cushions?” He asks, which sounded like a whine.

“Dusty…”

“Mom, please? It’s an emergency!” And who couldn’t say no to that face? He wastes no time to flip over the cushions, soon finding a few quarters that put a smile on his face. “Love you, Mom.” He says, and rushes towards the bathroom. “Phanie! You ready?” His face falls slightly as he sees his sister sitting on the floor near the toilet. “Whoa, you okay?”

Steph nods her head. “Y-Yeah… yeah. I’m fine.” She says, forcing herself to look hopeful. “I think dinner didn’t sit well with me.”

“You okay to drive still?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. Go call your friends to see if they’re ready.”

“Okay.” He says, and starts to leave, but notices something.

She sends him a look. “What?”

“You’re still wearing that t-shirt?” Dustin asks, slight annoyance, as he points to the article of clothing. Ever since she made a friend at the beginning of the year, she’s been constantly wearing his custom made shirt for their club. He’s starting to wonder if she’s prioritizing that over her band tees (And those were the pride and joy of her existence).

“Yeah.” She sits up straighter with a smirk. “I am.”

“For someone who wasn’t that into D&D, you sure love wearing that.”

Steph scoffs playfully. “You’re just jealous because my high school has a D&D club… and you’re not invited.” Her and Dustin stick their tongues out at each other, before he departs. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll give you some of my quarters!”

“I’ll be nice!” He shouts back, and runs into his room, hands already reaching for his walkie. “Lucas, you copy? I’ve got four quarters. What’s your haul?”

[ ‘Take your puny haul and multiply it by five.’ ]

Dustin’s eyes widened in shock. “How?”

[ ‘While you were scrounging around like a homeless bum, I mowed Old Man Humphrey’s lawn.’ ]

“Old Man Humphrey’s got that kinda cash?” Shit, maybe he needs to start mowing people’s lawns. “Just call Mike already.”

[ ‘You call Mike. I have to go take a shower from doing real work, like a man. Over and out.’ ]

He groans as their connection disconnects. Why do I always have to do all the work?

He changes the station a few times until he gets a signal. “Mike, do you copy? ---- Mike, do you copy?”

[ ‘Yeah– Yeah, I copy.’ ]

“What are you doing on this channel?” Dustin asks, curiously.

[ ‘N-Nothing.’ ]

Nothing, he says? He wants to pry, but they have bigger things to worry about right now. “Lucas and I have six bucks total. What’s your haul?”

There was a long pause, until…

[ ‘Shit!!! I don’t know yet.’ ]

“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”

[ ‘Hold on. Call Will.’ ]

Now, I gotta call Will now, too? Come on, guys! He inhales in frustration, changing the channel again just as his sister comes into his room.

“Did you call them?” She asks, sitting on his bed beside him.

“I got one more call.” He tells her, turning the dial until it chirps. “Got it. Will, do you copy? ---- Will–”

[ ‘I’m here! I copy.’ ]

“Mike’s still counting his cash, but between me and Lucas, we have six bucks.”

[ ‘Six?! How?’ ]

“Lucas has apparently been mowing Old Man Humphrey’s lawns.”

[ ‘That’s awesome.’ ]

“Yeah. It is.” He smiles. “So, like I said, we got six.”

“Eleven.” Steph butts in, getting another look.

“What?”

“I got five bucks. So you have eleven dollars in total.”

His expression grows as he replies to his friend with, “Phanie said she has five, so we have eleven dollars total now.”

[ ‘Well, I got about three dollars. So that’s… fourteen now.’ ]

“That’s perfect!” Dustin pumps his fist. “Tonight's going to be sick.”

Stephanie taps his shoulder. “Hey, ask him if he needs a ride.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey, Phanie’s asking if you need a ride?”

[ ‘Oh, I’m good. My mom’s taking me already.’ ]

“Okay. See you soon. Over and out.”

“So?”

“He says he’s good. His mom’s taking him.”

“Alrighty, then.” Steph says, sliding off the bed. “Let’s get going.” She follows her boisterous brother practically skip the whole way to the front door with his haul, and hers, inside a little baggie.

“Bye, Mom!” Dustin yells, as he slips on his coat while he is already one step out the door.

“Dusty, slow down.” She warns, grabbing her purse -- but her action must have been too slow because her little brother grabbed a hold of her arm and tugs her down the path. “Hey!”

“Oh, you kids be careful, okay? Call me if something happens.” Claudia urges from the doorway.

“We will.”

“So what are you going to do while we’re there?” Dustin asks, as he slips inside her car.

“Hmm, I might play some games myself. I want to see if anyone’s beaten my Centipede record yet.” She replies, looking over her shoulder as she slowly backs out. “Or, I might try to read the last few chapters of the Hobbit. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I can’t believe all it took was your friend Eddie to convince you to start reading that. I’ve been trying to get you to read that for years.”

“People change, you know?”

“That’s bullshit.” He says, shifting in his seat to look at her better. “Are you sure he’s not trying to get into your pants?”

“Ew. No.” Steph says, nose scrunching up in disgust. “He doesn’t see me that way, and I don’t see him that way. We both established that early on.”

“What about the others?” He asks, his tone fully dousing in overprotectiveness.

“Two of them have girlfriends. Or at least Gareth claims he has a girlfriend. None of us have actually seen her…” She whispers that last part like it was a joke he was supposed to understand, but it went way over her brother’s head (For obvious reasons of course).

“And the other one?”

“Grant doesn’t lean that way.”

He blinks. “What does that mean?”

“It’s…” She shakes her head, deciding against it. “Never mind. You’ll understand eventually.”

He let his confused gaze linger on her for a hot moment to see if she’ll slip up about what that meant, but he was met with her long, hardcore silence. He soon shrugs, and decides to move the conversation forward. “But what about the one that gave you that hunting knife? Jeff?”

“Jeff’s father owns the general store in town, and gets free shit all the time. He gave it to me out of the goodness of his heart, and a reassurance that his female friend is protected.” Steph explains with a smile on her face, as she pulls the car in front of Lucas’ house.

“That’s too much information.”

“Well, you ask too many questions, Dusty. Besides…” She pauses briefly to honk the horn a few times, before smirking at her brother. “You have to admit, it’s a pretty badass knife.”

Dustin chuckles. “It is.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce pulled the car right at the front of the entrance, her son was anxiously waiting to get out. “Okay, so, I’ll pick you up in two hours. That’s nine o’clock on the dot, okay?”

“Okay.” Will replies, nodding along and opening the door.

“If anything happens, if you need to come home, just ask them to use their phone and call home. Okay? Don’t... Don’t walk home.”

“I know.”

“Okay. But, sweetie–”

“Mom, I have to go.” He whines, and twitches in the seat like it’s made of lava.

“Okay, okay.” She waves for him to go. “Have fun.”

“Thanks.” He says, getting out. His happiness spikes up when he’s met with his group of friends. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Will.” Steph says, ruffling his hair as she passes him for his car door. She peeks inside. “Hi, Ms. Byers. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“Thank you.” Joyce says, respectfully. “Take care.”

“You, too.” She closes the car door, ushering the group of boys inside. “So, Byers, what are you playing first?”

“Hmm… I think…” He grins. “I think I’ll try to beat your Centipede record.”

She gasps. “Oh, no you’re not! The student will not become the master in this situation!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“No. No. No! No! No! No!” Dustin smacks the side of the machine as the game flashes that he failed the quest. “I hate this overpriced bullshit!” He groans. “Son of a bitch! Piece of shit!”

Lucas touches his shoulder, and smirks. “You’re not nimble enough. But you’ll get there one day. But until then, Princess Daphne is still mine.”

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’m still top place on Dig Dug.”

“You sure about that?” One of the coworkers, named Keith, says as he comes to stand next them. He watches the kids become confused while he gnaws on some Cheetos.

“Sure about what?” It wasn’t a second later until he realized what he was implying. “You’re kidding me.” His face drops as he takes off for the Dig Dug machine. “No, no, no. Move! Move! No, no, no, no, no.” He pushes past the last kid, hands tapping the button to bring up the high score that no longer was his. “No! NO!!!”

“751,300 points!” Will said, in shock.

Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

“Who is ‘Mad Max’?” Dustin asks, in a demanding tone.

Keith snickers as he shoves more cheese puffs into his mouth. “Better than you.” He bites back, earning the middle finger.

“Is it you?” Will asks, as the older teenager shakes his head.

“You know I despise Dig Dug.”

“Then who is it?” Lucas asks, also demanding.

“Yeah, spill it, Keith.” Dustin pushes, as a mischievous grin blossoms on Keith’s face.

“You want information, then I need something in return.” His reply made everyone’s attention turn towards Mike who immediately picks up what’s happening.

“No, no, no.” Mike said, waving them off. “No way. You’re not getting a date with her.”

“Mike, come on. Just get him the date.” Lucas pleads, with the other party members agreeing.

“I’m not prostituting my sister!”

“But it’s for a good cause.”

“No way!”

“Fine!” Lucas dramatically says, and shifts his attention to someone else. “What about Dustin’s sister?”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Hey!”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” Keith says, making a face. “She looked pretty sick when I saw her come in.”

The Henderson gasps, and gets defensive. “Hey, just because my sister’s sick doesn’t mean she’s not pretty, Dickhead!”

“Hey–”

“And, no, you don’t get the date with Nancy. Know why? ‘Cause he’s gonna spread his nasty-ass rash to your whole family.”

Keith’s jaw tightens. “Acne isn’t a rash and it isn’t contagious, you prepubescent wastoid.”

“Oh, I’m a wastoid? She wouldn’t go on a date with you. You make, like, what? Two-fifty an hour?”

“Nice perm.”

“Oh, now you’re gonna make fun of my hair?”

“You insult me, I’ll insult you.”

“Keith, I swear, I’m gonna–”

Then the lights went out.

Will suddenly looks around in uncertainty, just as everything slowly powers back on… in a completely different way.

Will soon found himself some place he didn’t want to be back, a place where all his friends were gone, and everything looked horrifying….

He found himself back in the Upside Down.

Meanwhile, Steph comes out of the bathroom stall, reliving what just happened back at home.

I am never eating Enzo’s again. She tells herself as uses the open sink to wash her hands. But it’s strange though, I don’t feel bad.

So what could her problem be?

She cups her hands under the water, bringing it to her lips to swirl around to get the bad taste out. She nearly choked on the liquid when someone spoke to her unexpectedly.

// FIND HIM //

She jerks her head next to her, noticing that the other occupant inside the bathroom had already left. She spits the water out, looking around fully. “Hello? … Anyone?”

Who the heck is talking to–

// FIND HIM //

She whips around again. “Find who? Who is this?”

And that’s when the lights went out, and she found herself alone in the other world.

Her blue eyes widened with fear. “Will…”

She takes off in a sprint, the video game machines flickered on and off as she rushes by, thunder roaring around the building, as a strong gust of wind hits her in the face. She calls out his name as she fights against the wind to get outside, shutter in the freezing temperatures as she makes her way to the park lot. She quickly finds Will staring off at something in the distance, a dark cloud that flashed colors of fire, with something ominous swirling inside.

It sends chills down her spine, and memories of last year hitting her like a truck. But there was no point in freezing up when they’re in this together.

“Will!” She shouts, running over and engulfing him in an embrace. She feels him shake in her hold as she closes her eyes. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t look. It’s not real. We’re not there anymore. We’re okay. We’re okay. Shhhh…”

The thunder roared again, the storm coming closer and closer, aching to take a hold of them and…

“Will! Steph!”

The two of them jolted, eyes snapping open to find everything had returned normal and Mike coming over to check on them.

“Are you guys okay?” He asks, worriedly.

“Um…” Steph looks at Will who came to the same conclusion. “Y-yeah. We’re okay.”

“We just... needed some air.” Will adds, and she nods.

“Right.”

“Well, okay, then.” Mike waves them inside. “Come back in. You’re up on Dig Dug, Will. Let’s take that top score back.”

Will looks at her one last time as she gestures for him to go before her. He does, and she hopes that this was the only ‘episode’ they have tonight.

Weird. I wonder what triggered this. She thought, just as her nose began to bleed. She wipes it quickly with her hand, looking at the ooze before staring at where the storm cloud was. She frowns. Oh, not this again.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

On the morning of October 30th, Chief Jim Hopper was met with an unpleasant surprise. He wasn’t even out of his police truck yet when someone came rushing towards him. He pretends to not even notice as he tries to get inside, but the very persistent Private Investigator Murray Bauman stays right on his tail.

“Good morning, Jim.” He attempts once he manages to get neck and neck with him; But the police chief was quicker. “Jim. Hold on a second. We need to talk.”

“Get away from me.” Hopper says, with just the right amount of bite as they enter the station.

“Okay, no... I think you really wanna hear this.”

“Get away from me.”

“Trust me. I only want five minutes!”

“Yeah, I want a date with Bo Derek.” Hopper says, smirking as Flo comes over and takes the cigarette out of his mouth. “We all want things.”

Murray frowns. “This isn’t a laughing matter, Jim. This is serious, okay? I really got something here. I’m telling you!”

Hopper hides his eye roll as he shifts around him for the coffee station. “Hey, everyone.”

“Mornin’, Chief. Mornin’, Murray.” Powell said, from his spot at his desk.

“Got any proof on your butt-probin’ aliens yet, Murray?” Callahan teases, making his partner laugh. Hopper laughs too while grabbing a donut that was quickly taken away by Flo again and replaced with a granny smith apple (He sends her a small look of betrayal).

“I believe there was, and may still be, a Russian spy presence in Hawkins.” Murray fights back, earning another laugh.

“Russian spies!” Hopper chuckles.

“Are the spies in cahoots with the aliens? Or how do they fit in here? I’m confused.” Callahan asks, getting a glare from the PI.

“I’m talking multiple reports now. Multiple reports, okay? Of a Russian child in Hawkins.” Murray stated.

“A child?” Hopper’s heart sank for a sec, and tries to hide his worries. “What are you talking about?”

“A girl who may have psionic abilities.”

“‘Psionic’?”

“Psychic.”

“What about that girl that made that kid pee himself last year?” Powell points out.

“A prank.” Hopper clarifies forcibly, but Murray was already latching onto this tiny piece of info.

“What girl?” He asks, as the other officers start to tell the story but their boss cuts in before they unravel everything he’s tried to keep buried.

“Nah, nah, nah.” Hopper guides Murray to his office. “You got five minutes. Not a second more.”

Once they both sat down, Murray started his claim. “I talked to a Big Buy ex-employee who said some little girl shattered the door with her mind.”

“I heard that story.” Hopper replies, taking a bite of the apple, which he soon tossed away because of the bitterness. “Did you hear the one about the fat man with the beard who climbs down chimneys?”

Murray ignores him, and continues, “Then last month, a co-worker of Ted Wheeler’s claims some Russian girl with a shaved head was hiding in his basement. Ted now denies this.”

“Oh, wow. That’s a surprise.”

“But it connects.”

“Enlighten me.”

“This girl, she’s some kind of a Russian weapon, right? Barbara sees this girl, tries to help her, perhaps. But before she can, the Russians find them, take them–”

“Wait.” Hopper sits up straighter to light another cigarette. “You’re telling me Barbara Holland was kidnapped by Russian spies?”

Murray shrugs. “Kidnapped. Killed.”

“Killed?” Hopper says, blowing smoke and then proceeds to drum his fingers on his desk -- the more he can annoy this guy, the better.

“Don’t you get it, Jim?” Murray snaps, his tone becoming frustrating (His plan was working).

“No.”

“This has potentially international implications. I’m talking a full-on Russian invasion right here in Hawkins.”

Hopper drums his fingers louder. “Do you have any proof of this girl? I mean, has anybody seen her recently?”

“No! Because these are separate–” He was cut off by the phone ringing, a wave of relief crashed over Hopper (Thank god for Flo helping him out!)

“Excuse me. Sorry.” He takes the phone off the receiver before Murray could protest before Murray could protest. “Hello?”

[ ‘Merrill called, wants you to check out his pumpkins. Says they’ve been contaminated by his vengeful neighbor, Eugene. You’re welcome.’ ]

He hangs up the phone, and puts on his most apologetic looking face he could muster. “I’m really sorry. I really hate to do this, but I gotta run. It’s an emergency.”

“You gave me five minutes.” Murray replies, irritated.

“Yeah, listen, you know what? I liked your alien theory a lot better.” Hopper says, sliding his coat and hat back on. “And you want my advice? Why don’t you stop bleeding those people dry and go home? Alright?”

“I am not bleeding anyone…” His face falls. “Dry.”

Well that’s bullshit. Hopper shakes his head. “Listen to me. Go home, and stop pestering me.” And he takes his leave.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“It’s crap, I know.” Steve says to his girlfriend, whom both are sitting in his car in the school’s parking lot. They both had some time to kill before class began, and Steve desperately needed some help with his homework.

Nancy shakes her head, as she carefully reads it over. “No, it’s not crap.” She reassures him, but he wasn’t buying it.

“It’s not good.”

“It’s going to be. Just... It needs some reorganizing. Can I mark on it?”

He nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So, in the first paragraph, you used the basketball game versus Northern as a metaphor for your life, which is great. But then, around here–” She circles a part on his paper. “You start talking about your Granddad’s experiences in the war. And I... I don’t see how they’re connected.”

“It connects because... because, you know, we both won.” He replies, and her face once again tells him everything. “Do you think I should start from scratch?”

“No. I mean... When’s the deadline?”

“It’s tomorrow for early application.” Steve sighs, and rubs his eyes. “I know it doesn’t look good. I’ve just been so tired lately–”

“You’ve been tired a lot lately. I’d say off and on these last few months.” Nancy points out, concern flooding in. “What’s going on?”

The subtle shift in his emotion didn’t go unnoticed as he says, “It’s… nothing.”

“You keep saying that, Steve.”

“I know, I know, I just…” He waves his hand like he’s sending that part of the conversation away, and steers it back to, “Can we meet up so you can help me tonight?”

“We have our dinner tonight, remember?”

“Oh, shit!”

“We already canceled last week.” She says, frowning. “You don’t have to go. Just work on this.

“No, no, no. What’s the point?” He says, taking his papers back and tossing it behind him in frustration.

“Hey–” She touches his shoulder. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm. I am calm. I’m just being honest.” He replies, running a hand through his hair like a nervous tick. “You know, I mean... I don’t know what I’m going to do after I graduate. I literally have no freaking goals when it comes to the job field.”

“You haven’t been thinking about it lately?”

“Nah. Not really my priority nowadays.”

She bites her lip a thought, and starts shredding the metaphorical waters carefully. “Is it… is it your parents? Are they putting pressure on you for something?”

“No, it’s just I–” He holds his tongue as soon as something almost slips out, and quickly diverts the conversation once again. “Maybe I can just get an internship somewhere in town. You know, so I could be around for your senior year. Maybe we can think of something together.”

“Steve…”

“Just to look after you a little bit. Make sure you don’t forget about this pretty face.” He says, making her laugh. “Nance, I’m serious.” And he leans in for a quick kiss, and words that didn’t feel completely whole just yet. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She says, without missing a beat. And speaking of not missing, no one on campus was safe from the sound of a Camaro’s revving engine that shook the whole place. “What the heck was that?!”

Meanwhile, not too far away, Stephanie had slipped out of Eddie’s van and joined him on the sidewalk, as she tried not to laugh at how depressed he was looking. -- Of course it was just him being overly dramatic. She’s not that much of a monster.

“Quit your whining. You’ll be fine.” She says, trying to get his hopes up that had been quickly shot this morning. “This is your chance to graduate with this extra credit. ‘84, baby. You got this.”

He groans, trying to keep his head up in a metaphorical sense and a literal sense. “I’m glad you can stay so positive.”

She chuckles. “Someone has to.”

“Yeah.” Eddie mumbles, flashing a smile that quickly fades. “Hang on.”

“What?” She said, as he pulled her to a stop.

“You’re bleeding again.” He replies, as starts digging around his pockets.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Hang on.” He eventually hangs her a clean cloth, and thanks him. He waits a couple seconds to ask, “Are you sure you’re not anemic?”

She shakes her head. “The doctor already checked me for that, and I was in the clear.”

“Any other reason why?”

“Not sure.” Steph says, half-truthfully. After last night it seems her episodes might be connected to her nose bleeds. Or it could just be a coincidence. She’s not a hundred percent sure yet. “You don’t have to keep looking at me like that, Eddie. I’m fine.”

Eddie adverts his distressful eyes. “You say that, and I believe you, but… you know, my mom said that a lot, and she, uh… yeah.” He says, kicking a small rock away. “So, I’m sorry for worrying. You know?”

“Eddie.” She begins, softly. “Thanks for worrying, but I’m fine. Really. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise. Besides–” She smiles and nudges him. “My gut’s telling me this is going to be over soon.”

“If you say so. ‘Cause if not…” He shows off his signature goofy grin. “I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m sure you will, Eds– AH!!”

The two of them nearly jumped out of their shoes when a muffler backfires, followed by a loud engine purring as it bolts into the school’s parking lot. The duo watches as a ‘79 deep blue Camaro whips around and into a parking space. A little red headed girl gets out with her skateboard, wasting no time to use it to get to her middle school on the other side of the lot. Soon afterwards a tall, Caucasian, blond and blue eyed teenager gets out, sliding off his shades with a cigarette between his teeth. He surveyed the area for a few minutes, before heading down the pathway for the high school.

“Who’s the bad boy?” Eddie says, breaking the ice first.

“I don’t know. But he’s kind of cute.” Steph replies, getting a look. “Oh, come on. I can say that. Besides, I saw you checking out one of the cheerleader’s asses yesterday.”

He gasps dramatically. “That’s not true.”

“Maybe buy the girl dinner first, Munson.” Steph says, as she starts walking away.

Eddie shakes his head with a scoff. “I could say the same thing about you to Mr. Mullet over there.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Will was not having a good start to school today. He could hardly listen to Mr. Clarke speaking about all the wonders of the human brain without thinking about what happened earlier (And Mr. Clarke’s classes were his favorite!). As soon as he opened his locker this morning he found yet another article of him with his eyes scratched and words painted on to spell out ‘Zombie Boy’. He’s lost count how many newspaper clippings he’s thrown away this school semester alone that repeated those two-words. And each time they cut a little bit deeper into his skin.

When will this ever stop? He wonders, almost completely zoning out if it wasn’t for the door opening aggressively.

Mr. Clarke’s face lights up. “Ah, this must be our new student.”

“Indeed.” The principal says, with a smile. “All yours.”

“Alright.” Mr. Clarke stops the student from slipping by. “Hold up. You don’t get away that easy. Come on up. Don’t be shy. Dustin, drum roll.” His student complies, and he begins, “Class, please welcome, all the way from sunny California, the latest passenger to join us on our curiosity voyage, Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” The girl clarifies immediately.

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Nobody calls me Maxine.” She says, honestly. “It’s Max.”

The boys’ eyes widened in shock, as Lucas whispered, “Mad Max.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper finds himself standing in a field filled with rotten pumpkins that stretched over miles long. He’s happy for once in his life that it isn’t Summertime. He can only imagine how bad the smell truly is if it was hotter. “You’re saying this was fine yesterday?”

Farmer Merrill scoffs. “Fine? These were prize winners, Chief. You should’ve seen ‘em. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what happened. And then I remembered... Eugene.”

“What about him?”

“He’s been complaining about me to just about anyone who’ll listen.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, he started this ‘Pick Your Pumpkin’ thing. Acted like it was trademarked. I said, ‘Hire yourself a damn lawyer. See how far that gets you’.”

Hopper raises an eyebrow over his shades. “You’re telling me that nice old Eugene came out here after dark and doused your field with poison?”

Merrill shakes his head. “Not Eugene himself. I’m thinkin’ one of his field hands.”

“Uh-huh.” Hopper crouches down and pokes the fly infested pumpkin with his pencil.

“Listen, Chief, I don’t go throwing around accusations lightly. You know me. But this happening the day before Halloween, when sales are peaking? That’s a hell of a coincidence. Hell of a coincidence!”

He’s not wrong about that. However, even if it was true, he couldn’t imagine a sweet elderly neighbour like Eugene actually doing this. But if it wasn’t him…

Then who or what was causing all this?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“You’re coming to this.” Nancy says, once her and Jonathan got out of their classroom.

The oldest Byers grabs the orange flier, reading it over and laughing. “‘Come and get sheet faced’. No, I’m not.” He replies, trying to hand it back to her but she refuses to take it.

“I can’t let you sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Well, you can relax. I’m not gonna be alone. I’m going trick-or-treating with Will and his friends.”

“All night?” She asks, skeptically.

“Yeah.” He says, but he knows by now that Nancy can read him like a book.

“No, no way.” She waves him off. “You’re gonna be home by 8:00, listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something.”

He ponders on that for a moment before nodding. “Sounds like a nice night.”

“Jonathan, just come. I mean, who knows, you might even, like, meet someone–” Her words were cut off when Steve came up from behind and picked her up, causing her to shriek. “Oh, my God!”

“Sorry, Nance.” Steve laughs, and sets her down.

“Take those stupid things off.” She says, pulling off his sunglasses.

“Okay, okay.” He happily smiles. “I missed you.”

“It’s been like an hour.”

“Tell me about it.” His gaze shifts to the other party member. “Hey, Jonathan. You going to come to Tina’s party?”

“I’m actually trying to convince him right now.” Nancy says, shifting around to face him.

But Jonathan’s expressions were becoming unreadable as he bows his head, and says, “I’ll think about it.”, then disappears down the hallway.

“What’s his deal?” Steve asks, as his girl watches him worriedly.

“I…” What was that reaction just now? “I’m not really sure.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“There’s no way that’s Mad Max.” Mike says, as he and his friends stare at the girl riding around on the playground with her skateboard, occasionally doing a few neat tricks she’s fully mastered. “And even if she is, you can’t get 750,000 points on Dig Dug. It’s impossible.”

“She had to find some kind of cheat code, right?” Will suggests. In his eyes, that could be the only way. Right?

“Totally.”

“But her name is Max.” Lucas points out.

“So what?” Mike asks, as Lucas looks at him like he’s crazy.

“So, how many Maxes do you know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Zero. That’s how many.”

“She shows up at school the day after someone with her same name breaks our top score. I mean, you kidding me?” Dustin says, stating the obvious as well.

“Exactly!” Lucas says, ecstatically. “So she’s gotta be Mad Max. She’s gotta be.”

“And plus she skateboards, so she’s pretty awesome.”

“Awesome?” Mike says, in disbelief. “You haven’t even spoken a word to her.”

Dustin shrugs. “I don’t have to. I mean, look at her–” His face falls when he notices she’s gone. “Shit. I’ve lost the target.”

“No, no, no! Look!” Will shouts and points to Max throwing something in a trash bin before heading inside. The boys of course wasted no time rushing over and retrieving what she tossed, in hopes that it’ll give them some other clue.

Dustin unfolds the crumpled piece of paper, showing it off as they all read a loud: “‘Stop spying on me, creeps’.”

The Henderson exhales in defeat. “Well, shit.”

“We’re officially the worst spies ever.” Lucas says, grabbing the paper and tossing it away.

“Agreed. So, what’s next?”

“Well, we could try–”

“Hey.” Will butts in, his attention elsewhere. “You guys keep talking. I gotta do something real quick.” And he leaves before anyone could question or object.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“What’s his name again?” Gareth asks, as he and the others sit around the picnic table. It was recess (or PE in their case) for them as well, and they spent it by going for a nice “jog”. But since the coaches were hardly ever outside, it was easy for students to just hang out in the grass and gossip.

And that’s exactly what they were doing.

“William Hargrove. He goes by Billy, though.” Jeff says, as everyone takes this information in.

“What’s he like?” Grant asks, which was the question that was on everyone’s mind.

“He’s from Cali and had just moved here. He’s really charming with the ladies, but the other hand, with the guys, he’s a little… testy.”

“Testy, huh?”

“Awe, don’t tell Stephanie that now.” Eddie teases, and nudges her.

“Hey, I said he was ‘cute’, doesn’t mean I was going to date him.” Steph defends, with her hands up. “And Jeff, how long did you talk to this guy?”

“None. I’ve just observed.” He replies.

“Well, maybe don’t judge a book by its cover. We can’t just assume.”

“True.”

“But–” She emphasizes hard. “If he is a douche, we just stay away from him with a ten-foot pole. Capish?”

They all nodded in agreement, Grant even chuckling and saying, “I’m starting to think she’s a better leader than you, Eddie.”

Eddie immediately clenches his chest with his hand, his body slacking his seat like he’s been struck. “Grant, the light of my life, you wound me.”

Stephanie snorts, rolling her eyes. “Oh, stop with the theatrics. Nobody can ever replace Munson, or he might die of heartbreak before he’s twenty.” That earns a few more laughs, Eddie even pinching her side that makes her squeal.

“I swear, you’re just as bad as them, Henderson.”

“Shut up, Eds.” She laughs, eye soon catching familiar movement in the distance. “Uh, I’ll be right back, boys.” She excuses herself before beelining towards the chain link fence that divides the two schools. She watches the boy with worry as he starts climbing over. “Please, be careful.”

“You know I’ve been through worse.” Will states, all tongue-and-cheek.

“That is true. But still. I can worry.”

“I know you will. Wait…” He pauses at the top of the fence. “You’re free to talk, right?”

She smiles. “For you, any time.” He returns the expression and hops to the ground to begin their walk together. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” He sighs. “Kids are mean.”

Her eyes flashed with anger for a split second, but it was not towards him. “Another note?”

“Yeah.”

“I got one of those last week. Stuck it right on my windshield.”

“Assholes…”

She snickers at his language (He’s the one that rarely cusses in the group). “Careful with that word, Byers, or you’re going to turn into your friends. Or worst… you’re going to be Dustin 2.0.”

That got him to go back to smiling. “Yeah. I probably will. Have you written anything else down in your journal lately?”

“Eh, there’s really nothing for me to write. My mind’s been pretty quiet for the last few months now.”

“Except yesterday?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I had one the other day, but it barely lasted a minute.”

He tilts his head curiously at her, as they start slowly down. “When was that?”

“Hmm… I think it was Wednesday.”

“That’s when I had mine.”

“Interesting.” She scratches her head at that statement. “I’ve been having nose bleeds off and on all week. I can’t figure out if it’s connected to my episodes, or if it’s something else. Have you had any?”

Will shakes his head. “No. I’ve just been extra tired lately.”

“Have you heard any voices?”

“Hmm, not really. I’ve just been getting these… feelings, I guess you would call it? But I can’t really figure out what it’s telling me. It’s… annoying me.”

“That’s strange. And new.” She shifts her weight around as they come to a stop. “I thought I heard a voice yesterday before the Upside Down appeared, but I couldn’t pinpoint if it was something my conscience was making up, or I was remembering something.”

He looks at her worriedly. “Do you think you’re remembering something from after you died?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.” And she really wishes she had more of an answer. It’s been almost a full year now since the incident and she still hasn’t put the whole puzzle pieces together. It’s been very frustrating. “Well, besides all that, I did read this thing called: ‘The Anniversary Effect’. It’s basically the anniversary of a tragic event that brings back traumatic memories. Sort of opens up the neurological floodgates, so to speak. I know soldiers tend to have this.”

“Well that would make sense. I mean, November 6th is right around the corner.”

“Yeah.” It was just a few days away and it was already making them both feel uncomfortable. “Have you mentioned your episodes to anyone?”

“Um, I kind of told my mom. But nothing in detail. I’ll have to mention that ‘Anniversary Effect’ to her. Give her some peace of mind.” Will answers truthfully. “You?”

“Same. My mom suspected I wasn’t sleeping again, so I told her about what I found. Not a lot of details just because she doesn’t know the whole truth. And I’m also sure that Dustin is catching on, too. I know he’s going to hound me for answers when it’s just the two of us.”

“So, what do we do? Ride it out?”

“I… guess so.” Steph frowns. “To be honest, I don’t really know. I mean, we can come clean and talk about it with everybody, but I doubt it’s going to stop what’s going on with us. I think we just need to remind everyone to be patient until the 6th passes. Then, I think we’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.” He says, hugging himself. “I hate feeling like this.”

“Me too, kid.” She says, ruffling his hair. “But you gotta understand, we went through a lot a shit in seven days.”

“Yeah…” He looks at his feet with glassy eyes. “But you had it worse.”

His little voice tugged on her heart strings as she got down on his level. “Yeah, but you saw all those things happen to me. No kid your age should have seen those things. Do you understand?”

He nods slowly, and whispers, “...Yeah.”

“Okay. Look at me.” She takes his face into her hands. “If you ever want to talk to me, just pick up the phone and I’ll be right over, or you can come over to my place. And if you don’t want to talk to me, then talk to your mom. Your mom will understand. Okay?” He nods again. “Okay. Do not let your bottle of emotions explode. Take that from someone who has experience. Got it?”

“Will…” He sniffles. “Will s-she… understand?”

Her face softens. “Of course she will. She’s your mom. And may I remind you that your mom was one of the people that got us out of that place. I guarantee she’ll understand. Talk to me, or talk to her. Alright?”

“Alright. But who are you going to talk to? I know you’re not going to talk to Dustin.”

“I don’t know yet, buddy. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She replies, and he throws his arms around her for a hug. “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hours later after school, Lucas and Dustin were standing in the parking lot where the Arcade was, snooping around to see if Mad Max would make their appearance (And they hoped Mad Max was indeed the person they think they are). -- Mike went home a while ago claiming there was “No point in waiting this long”, which sucks for him though. In Dustin and Lucas’ minds, with Mike out of their way they have a better shot at making their move on her.

“Still no sign?” Dustin asked after a while.

“Jack shit.” Lucas replies, still holding onto the binoculars.

Dustin sighs and checks his watch for the millionth time in the last hour. “Damn it. My mom’s gonna murder me if I don’t leave soon.”

“So go home.” Lucas says, trying to be all slick. “I’ll radio if she comes.”

“Oh, yeah, nice try. You just want me out of here so you can make your move.”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re such a threat.”

“That’s right. She will not be able to resist these pearls.” Dustin says, and purrs, making his friend roll his eyes. And Dustin was about to take offense to that when he spotted the pot of gold. “Ten o’clock. Ten o’clock!”

The two of them watch as a car comes speeding into the parking lot, abruptly stopping as Max gets out in a huff. She and the person driving started exchanging some heated words that they couldn’t quite hear.

“Whoa! They’re arguing. They’re arguing!” Lucas says, pointing out the obvious.

Dustin groans. “Oh, my God. I see that. I don’t even know why you need those. God, you’re so stupid.”

Eventually, the car speeds off with the door still half open, and Max flips it off immediately. So that’s when the duo took it as a sign and decided to move in. They don’t know how long they were watching her play Dig Dug, but it was enough for them to be completely smitten by her. They both slid to the floor against the wall, giant grins on their faces that’ll never come off.

“She’s incredible.” Lucas says, bubbly.

“She’s…” Dustin begins, locking eyes with him.

“Mad Max.” They said, happily.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy and Steve arrive at the Holland’s residence late at night, all nicely dressed and plastered with fake smiles. For the sake of Barbara’s parents, they must keep up the act. I mean, who’s going to believe that an interdimensional creature kidnapped and killed their daughter over a year ago?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to cook.” Marsha said, as she placed the silverware and plates down. “I was gonna make that baked ziti you guys like so much, but I just forgot about the time, and before you know it, ‘Oh, my God, it’s five o’clock’.”

“It’s fine. It’s great.” Nancy says, (overly) boisterously.

“Yeah. I love KFC.” Steve replies, as they start helping themselves. They let the silence fill the air for a few minutes, before asking, “So, I noticed a ‘For Sale’ sign out in your yard. Is that the neighbors’, or…”

“You wanna tell them, George?” Marsha asks her husband.

“Go ahead.”

“We hired a man named Murray Bauman. Have either of you heard of him?”

“No.” Nancy says, looking at her boyfriend who shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“He was an investigative journalist for the Chicago Sun-Times.”

“He’s pretty well known.” George states, as his wife agrees.

“Anyway, he’s freelance now, and he agreed to take the case.” Marsha adds, making the teenagers’ stomachs turn horribly.

“That’s... That’s great.” Steve forces out, trying to hide the guilt on his face. He can still see his classmate’s decomposing body sometimes in his nightmares dreams. “That’s really... great. Right, Nancy?”

“Uh, y-yeah. It is. Um, what exactly does that mean?” Nancy asks, worriedly.

George grips his silverware tighter, his face full of bitterness as he spats, “Means he’s gonna do what that lazy son of a bitch Jim Hopper–” His wife touches his arm, cooling him off immediately. “Sorry.” He sighs. “What the Hawkins police haven’t been capable of doing.” His words made the teenagers look at their plates, slowly starting to lose their appetites. “Means we have a real detective on the case.”

“It means…” Marsha begins, getting choked up. “We’re going to find our Barb.”

“If anyone can find her, it’s this man. He already has leads. By God, he’s worth every last penny.”

“I-Is that why you’re selling the house?” Nancy asks, her trembling hands falling in her lap and out of eyesight.

“Don’t worry about us, sweetie.” The woman reassures. “We’re fine. More than fine. For the first time in a long time, we’re hopeful.”

And that was the last straw for Nancy. “Excuse me.” She chokes out, and gets up from her chair. “I’ll be right back.”

Martha watches her disappear for the bathroom, both her and her husband oblivious about what their words were doing to the teenagers. Her gentle face falls slightly though as she notices Steve had stopped eating. “Are you okay, honey? Is it not good?”

Steve nearly flinches when he realizes he slipped up. He quickly forces another smile, and replies, “No, no, it’s great. I just, uh… I have a lot on my mind today. Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I get it.” Her happy expression comes back at full speed. “When Barb returns, we have to all celebrate together. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Yeah. It will be.” His chest tightens at the lie. He has to be the strong one here. It’ll be too suspicious if he decides to step out of the room to take a breather like his girlfriend. He picks up his fork again and forces himself to eat. “I can’t wait for you guys to find her.”

He was left to keep the hopeful conversation up while Nancy stayed in the bathroom for a while to silently cry.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, in another neighbourhood, just like Clockwork, Mike Wheeler sat under the makeshift fort he put up last year, changing to a certain station on his walkie to begin his conversation for this night.

“El, are you there? El?” He called out, but as usual he was greeted by static. “It’s me. It’s Mike. It’s day 352, 7:40 p.m. I’m still here. If you’re out there, say something. Or give me a sign. I won’t even say anything to anyone if you’re worried about that. Just…” He pauses as he starts to get teary eyed. “I wanna know if you’re okay.”

He hated how broken up he sounded, and he wonders what the others would think if they would see him like this?

He waited a full minute before tossing the walkie to the side.

“I’m so stupid.”

I mean all he’s doing is giving himself this false hope. He knows that there’s a very high probability that she is really gone after all. I mean, he and all his friends, his sister and Jonathan included, saw her turn to ash along with that miniature Demogorgon and that deranged doctor. She may be a psychic, but there’s no way she’s immortal or has a crazy healing factor like an X-Men.

His hands grip his pant legs, trying not to cry for real. “...I am really stupid.”

He was about to call it quits for tonight when a signal started to come in.

[ ‘Mike? ---- Mike? ]

Mike snags it back up as fast as he could. “Hello, is that you?” He asks, a hundred percent expecting Eleven, and total not expecting–

[ ‘Yeah, it’s me, Dustin. What’re you doing on this channel again? I’ve been trying to reach you all day. We were right. Max is Mad Max.’ ]

Mike scoffs in annoyance. “Yeah, I’m busy.”

[ ‘But–’ ]

He pushes the antenna down, ultimately cutting himself off from his friends. He throws it off to the side again, a little harsher this time as he starts stomping up the stairs. “This is all so fucking stupid.”

Lucas looks over at his friend as they continue to ride their bikes back to their place. They were actually not completely surprised by their friend’s snappy attitude (He’s been like this since school ended). “What do we do now?”

“We stick to the plan.” Dustin says, getting a wary look.

“Mike’s not gonna like it.”

“Last time I checked, our party is not a dictatorship. It’s a democracy.”

“What if Max says no?”

“How can Max say no to these?” He purrs again which causes Lucas to cringe.

“I told you to stop that.” Lucas says, just before he pulls into his driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Later.”

They were going to get Max into their group whether Mike likes it or not! The only thing that was going to be tricky for them was convincing the girl to give them the time of day.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

And down the street from the two of them, right off the road of Mirkwood, a family was prepping for movie night. Joyce was in the kitchen making stovetop popcorn when she had to do a double take. But she couldn’t help but smile at her Boyfriend’s shenanigans.

“Stop.” She says, playfully as he circles around her with his camera. “Stop!”

“What?” Bob said, teasing back. “Come on, you gotta get used to it. This is the future.”

“Well, put the future down and get me a clean bowl. And, Jonathan?” She calls out to her eldest in the living room. “Can you go get your brother?”

“Okay.” Jonathan heads for his brother’s room with a stack full of VHS tapes, knocking a few times before entering. “Hey, bud. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got a variety. Take your pick.”

“Whatever you want.” Will replies, harshly (Which actually stuns Jonathan for a few seconds).

“Alright…” Jonathan takes a seat at the end of the bed. He then decides to be nosy and look at what Will was drawing. “What are you working on? Zombie Boy? Who’s Zombie Boy?”

Will looks at him for a second before quietly muttering, “Me.”

“Did someone call you that?” Jonathan asks, going in defensive mode. But his brother said nothing in return, so he softened his approach. “Hey. You can talk to me. You know that, right? Whatever happened.” He touches his arm. “Will, come on, talk to me.”

He jerks his hand away. “Stop treating me like that.”

“What? Like what?”

“Like everyone else does. Like there’s something wrong with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan pushes.

Will uses his fingers to count. “Mom, Dustin, Lucas– Everyone! They all treat me like I’m gonna break. Like I’m a baby. Like I can’t handle things on my own. It doesn’t help.” His voice starts to tremble, which punches Jonathan in the gut as he helplessly listens to every word. “It just makes me feel like more of a freak. The only person who isn’t treating me like that is Stephanie, and it’s probably because she’s going through what I’m going through.”

Jonathan’s heart breaks a little bit more. “Will–”

“And she’s…” Will starts to teary eyed. “She’s so strong. At least she tries to be for me. And it… it sucks because she’s always there for me, and I-I don’t know how to be there for her.” He sniffles. “Her friends tell her that… that ‘Freaks stick together’, but it doesn’t help when we’re constantly being reminded of it everyday for something that we didn’t have control over.”

He breaks eye contact again, and continues to draw, hoping his brother would just go away and leave him be. But Jonathan wasn’t. He wasn’t going to let his baby brother wallow over something like this when he’s clearly calling out for help.

“You know what?” Jonathan begins, moving to sit crisscrossed and give his full attention. “You’re right. You are a freak.”

Will snaps his gaze back at him, both confused and angry. “What?”

“No, I’m serious. You’re a freak. But what?” Jonathan shrugs. “Do you wanna be normal? Do you wanna be just like everyone else? Being a freak is the best. I’m a freak. You’re a freak. Stephanie’s a freak. And guess what? She’s right. We freaks have to stick together.”

“Is that why you’re always hanging out with me?” Will asks, still staring with a puzzled look.

Jonathan chuckles. “Yeah, of course, bud. You’re my best friend, alright? And I would rather be best friends with Zombie Boy than with a boring nobody. You know what I mean?” But his brother still didn’t seem to grasp what he was saying yet. So Jonathan tries something else. “Okay, look... Who would you rather be friends with? Bowie or Kenny Rogers?”

Will scrunches up his nose. “Ugh.”

“Exactly. It’s no contest. The thing is, nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world. You got it?”

“Well... some people like Kenny Rogers.”

“Kenny Rogers.” Bob says while popping through the doorway. “I love Kenny Rogers.” And his response got the two brothers to laugh, which stirred confusion. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Will replies, grinning.

Bob was about to comment until he saw the stack of VHS tapes. “Oooh, ‘Mr. Mom’.” He grins like a kid in a candy store. “Perfect!”

And he grabs them and leaves the room, humming something that makes them belly laugh again. It was a much needed belly laugh for the both of them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Stephanie stepped out of the steaming shower, quickly grabbing her towel to fight off the cool air. She dries her body off first before working on her dark locks; They had grown quite a bit this year, and she wonders if being friends with the ‘Hellfire Club’ has something to do with it. Everyone, except for Jeff, had their hair long in some kind of way. Between Grant’s mullet, Gareth’s baby version of that, and Eddie’s copying Van Halen, she’s somewhere in that mix.

I’m starting to think our goal is to braid each other’s hair. She chuckles, staring at herself in the mirror as the steam starts to disappear. Even in her house’s crappy lighting, even after all the special cream and a whole year passing, all her scars were still so noticeable.

Her expression fades into pain as she brushes the delicate skin on her neck. Sometimes she could still feel that bats teeth sinking in… and that wasn’t the only spot. They had gotten her pretty good everywhere. There were a few spots on her thighs and calves, a few on her stomach, and arms. But those didn’t bother her as much as the one on her neck.

Luckily for her she’s always been big on wearing baggy clothes, but this time her ensemble included more turtlenecks and scarves off all sorts. Both her mother and brother stopped asking her about them after three months, and Eddie and the other haven’t even got the chance to see any of them, and she liked to keep it that way (Unless they were the tiny marks on her hands, but those were barely there anymore).

She inhales sharply, trying to guide herself away from all the negatives and get dressed. But her attempts weren’t that great because she didn’t notice the lights dimming and the room growing colder and darker. It wasn’t until her chest felt tight and a shiver ran down her spine she finally took note.

She felt a presence behind her, one that she couldn’t dare make herself look at, as she remained frozen to the tiled floor. She felt a pressure in her head, and something slithering around her wrists.

She forces herself to look down, a weird set of red strings twisting around her wrists and hands like we were some sort of puppet. Scaredly she whispers, “What the…?” as someone whispers back,

// FIND HIM //

She flinches and screams. Her eyes shooting wide open to find herself back in the shower with the hot water still pooling off her body. She gasps like she’s out of breath, frantically looking around that made her come to the conclusion that she never actually got out in the first place.

“W-What the fuck…” She mutters, heart racing in her ears. It then sky rocketed again when someone came pounding on the door.

“Hey, Phanie, you done yet?” Dustin’s voice called out. And in a strange way it grounded her back to reality more.

“Y-Yeah.” She calls out, loudly. “I’m almost done. Give me five minutes.”

“Okay. Just don’t waste all the hot water, please.”

“I won’t…” She listens to him disappear back down the hallway, almost wishing he’d stayed there until she was done. Her baby brother she’ll admit was everything to her, and as much as it’s easy to talk to him about anything, as much as she wants to talk about what happened in the Upside Down with him, she doesn’t want him to be plagued with this nightmare she’s living every day.

Stephanie sobbed quietly, leaning her head against the wall, and used the last five minutes she had to cry a rainfall.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After a long, long day of work, Hopper had finally arrived at his hiding spot in the woods just as someone else pulled up beside him. He gets out with his big flashlight, not turning it on just yet since he already knows who it is.

“How was work?” Steve asks, getting out himself with something in his arms.

“Oh, you know. Same shit, different day.” Hopper replies, annoyance in his words. “How about you? How was the dinner?”

“It was… interesting. I’ll have to fill you in.” Steve frowns. “Mr. Holland called you a SOB a lot tonight.”

“Oh, I can imagine.” And he probably deserves it since he’s “blowing off” the case in the Hollands’ eyes (But Hopper stopped feeling guilty a while ago since he has bigger things to take care of). He was about to start walking when he finally noticed what the teenager was carrying. “Did you bring KFC home?”

“What? I didn’t really eat much to begin with. And besides, she hasn’t tried it yet. Who doesn’t like fried chicken?”

Hopper says nothing else, used to the teen’s roguishness, and begins his trek further into the woods with Steve in tow. They stayed silent the whole way, being mindful of the traps they laid around the place, including a tripwire they both inspected and carefully walked over. Hopper then knocks the secret code, the door soon opening and letting them inside the poorly lit cabin.

“Hey, kiddo, I got us dinner.” Steve announces, placing it on the table.

Hopper sets his hat and coat aside, along with his belt as he notices something on the kitchen counter: A plate full of Eggos and a mound full of syrup. “Hey, what’d we talk about?” He semi-scolds, as a voice comes from one of the back rooms.

“No signal.”

“What?”

“No signal. It’s 8-1-5. You’re late.”

Hopper frowns apologetically. “Yeah, I lost track of time.”

“We both did. Sorry.” Steve says, just as she entered the room. Her curly hair had grown in a pixie, and she was dressed in clothes he had found in a thrift store (She may have had a tiny growth spurt between New Years and this Halloween).

“I’ll signal next time, alright?” Hopper says, as they all sit down at the table. “Uh, and it’s 8:15. It’s not 8-1-5. Eight-fifteen.”

“Eight-fifteen.” El repeats.

“Good.” He says, proudly before pointing to the waffles on the counter. “Now, what did we talk about?”

“Dinner first, then dessert.”

“Always. That’s a rule. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Dig in.”

“What is this?”

“It’s fried chicken. Then this is mashed potatoes with gravy, and these are biscuits.” Steve explains, with a smile. “The biscuits are the best part.”

“I think I’d have to agree on that.” Hopper replies.

“But the chicken here has bones, so all you have to do is bite into the meat, and pull it off. Try it.” Steve watches her pick up the drumstick and follow his instructions. Her face lights up after a couple of bites. “Good?”

She nods eagerly. “Really good.”

“Good. Glad to hear. Did you study today?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you study today?”

So she tells him and Hopper everything she has done since this morning, not sparing any details, or questions she may have, as they happily listened to every word.

Oh, and you’re probably wondering… ‘What an interesting group of people’, or, ‘How’d they all end up together?’. And I’ll tell you why…

Although, that’s a story for next time.

(TBC)

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646 @jinxeee @bookkeeperlove @prozacgooble @goth-baby98 @aainr @luca-random-stuff @catradorapotter @bailees-post @dearabby1990 @savage-aespa @aainr @madaboutjoe

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11-asher-11 · 1 month ago

Text

My experience and my "blockages" that are not blockages

Sorry guys but i wanted to do this post again bcs the last time i did it quickly and without putting too much thoughts into it. I'm sorry for the ones who reposted, gave me like and commented but i'll eliminate that post. So sorry 😭

Alright guys, I wanted to make this post about my experience with shifting in general and what "problems" i'm facing now. I'm doing it bcs i will try to find a solution here so if someone have the same problems can get those tips. ALSO. if you have the same problems and just wanna vent/talk, you can comment or dm (whenever you want).

Basically, I started wanting to shift in September of 2023, and I still wasn't really conscious of what shifting was or how much it was real. (Let's say I didn't script out the getting hurt, and I was fine with killing 😭, don't let me even talk about it..). Fortunately I start getting to the shiftok before even trying to shift and i get into this video of that girl that explained why you shouldn't kill/shift in dangerous dr (I don't like her and I honestly don't agree besides the killing but there it was necessary and i'm glad I saw her).

For that video i start swallow in guilty just for thinking about it and I didn't want to change my bsd dr so much, I felt guilty for not wanting to script out other characters traumas so I start giving myself traumas (like not scripting out i can't get hurt and strange events). And it didn't go well at first. I used to wake up in the morning (after "trying" to shift) breathing envy, scared, terrified and with the only thought of talking to my friend (the one who was a shifter but was strange abt it and end up downplay shifting to "something more" than lucid dreaming after literally shifting).

Then I get it, fortunately. YOU CHOSE WHERE YOU GO. you can go to the most fucked up Dr and you can still be the only one that doesn't get hurt. Is not your fault if the people there suffered from traumas. And it's not your fault for wanting to experience that kind of realities. It's fine to add silly stuffs even if is a dangerous dr or whatever. YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT.

1. Past

i'm not someone to care abt the past, but it's true that how we feels abt things is bcs of past. Like if you watch a film as kid and you cried abt it bcs of a scene ofc you'll fell weird about re-watching it even at older age. The same is for me abt shifting. Every time i see someone say "it's lucid dreaming" i got flashbacks abt my friend who downplayed shifting to thatml. About how much it hurted and all.. but guess what? you can change what you feel abt thing. Like do you remember abt that film that made you cry? now you got courage to watch it again. And you get that that scene wasn't so bad, actually it was so cool, the animation was peak and the dub too. Do the same with shifting. Why that comment from my friend hurted? bcs i trusted her and I made the mistake to put my belief in her experiences. Now i look back at it and I see our friendship, our good moments that existed. How she always been weird abt shifting, how is probably just misinformation fault, how it can be 10000 different motivation for her to giving up, how shifting could still come back to her and it doesn't hurt so much anymore.

2. My feelings

Yeah, we all hate when we're sad and I feared it could stop me from shifting. Well it can't? but it can me not wanting to shift. And it's fine, we're human..i don't have to want to shift 24/7, and i can manifest to want it or stop feeling sad if i want. It's fine to have feelings, you just have to get those are not why you're not shifting.

3. Guilty

i defend ppl who shift for bad ppl, who race change, who do x, y and z. but me? why i can't defend myself? why i just start feeling guilty? I'm not worth less..Then why? That's bcs the only one who is judging me is me. No one else. Just yourself can judge you. Guilty is a feeling like the one before, and as them it's fine to feel it. Don't make it stop from making your decision. You and your subconscious know what is better for yourself.

4. Growing up

i got the strange feeling that once i grow up i have to give up on shifting, for my adult life, responsability or for others to push it bcs is "childish". But guess what? there are shifter from any age. from 9 to 80. Age is not a problem. You don't have to lose yourself just bcs you grow up, and you won't.

5. What in the future

what should I do with those knowledge? shift forever? being immortal? what if one of my dr go to the end point? it won't be sad? sure it will..but that is a future problem. Stay in the present. Also by shifting you can do ANYTHING you can re-live your life for inifnite times if you want, you can shift again and again and again. Or dying. Is not a problem.

6. i'm sensitive

it's not a problem ofc, but i'm scared that this could make anti-shifters comments get under my skin. Make me feel bad or things like that. But in the end i know they don't matter and ppl who are rude are not worth of my time or concern. Just keep going, bcs what else could we do? time doesn't stop for us and we ALWAYS find a way out of things. And that also in a "brain" sense, our brain is not dumb. It always go out from problem, even trauma guys. Also by manifestation everything is possible.

7. Talking with everyone abt it

is not a problem or a blockage (I call this post like that just bcs i didn't find a better name) but I feel kind of sad i can't talk abt it with everyone? but guess what? you can. You're just worried abt the reaction and that's what stop you. And it's your choice, you can manifest, you can get that is fine that not everyone know everything abt you or you can get rid of closed minded ppl. All you have to do is deciding (just like in shifting).

8. Alone

yes the feeling alone is so real, your journey is extremely personal. But guess what? THERE ARE PPL WHO CAN GENUINELY UNDERSTAND EVERYONE. those ppl have high emphaty and they can get you. In the end you have to do everything alone in shifting is true. But having friends can make you not feeling alone, and make you understand that shifting is not alone, is "solitaire".

9. Giving up

ofc is scary, but why would you be at this point if you wanna give up? and in the end I know that i WON'T give up. Not matter what. i always come back to shifting bcs is a win or win situation. It made me love lives, it gives me infinite possibilities and it can be used in ANY way. Never worry abt this. Also you can manifest.

10. Personal things

For example i can't stay without doing something. So ofc in my shifting attempts at least I have to do something (like daydream and all) and is not like is wrong or a problem. But some personal things can make you stress. Like if you insicure by nature, it can affect your shifting but that DOESN'T stop you..it just can be tiring. And i love how shifting can make you grow up as person and make you enjoy life, solve problems, asking for help and all..

11. i'm happy here but still i claim more.

Ofc even if your happy here shifting is beautiful. i'm happier here with my life but that doesn't mean that i can't want to shift, permashift or anything. Shifting can be even just an hobby (the best hobby ever i suppose) and there's nothing wrong. No you're not strange bcs even if you're happy here you claim more or you want to permashift. No you're not strange bcs you feel like dying when your doubts make you believe that maybe shifting is fake. It's normal..it's part of journey and one day you'll laugh about all those doubts.

12. I wanna be healty abt it.

But how can i? shifting has no morals. Is like nature..is something that all living things can do, it has no morals at all. And what being healthy even means? is not thinking abt it every day? but what if i think it in a positive way? is not trying every day? but what if i still enjoy life? the answer is the same. Is what you want it to be. Shifting is healthy no matter what, if you feel like your relationship with shifting is toxic is never bcs of shifting itself. Is something (like insicure, being in a spiral of desperation, "i'll die if i don't shift" ecc..) you have to understand and shifting is just trying to make you understand it.

13. Feeling out of community

Some things that are in the community are not for me. It's fine ofc. But it can make you feel left out. Like the whole "just pretend you shifting" i mean ofc i can. But i still have a life here i wanna live. And is not like i'll cry if i don't shift. Or "that's why you didn't shift.." why ppl make those post? two post ago you said we can just fin by ourselves the answers and now you make this? you're just making ppl believe or discovering new problems that they don't have (ofc i don't talk abt those post that do it just for informations, i mean more ppl who said it like they know more than us ourselves). Also for example is not for me getting into 282882 spiritual things. i'm not saying i don't believe them bit for now I just wanna shift..no astral projection, no witchcraft, no obe (that is not shifting). Just shift.

14. Getting crazy?

i was scary to get crazy, like idk even why? like that i end up in spiral of craziness and desperation for shifting bur is lowkey impossible? you literally can manifest and WHY SHOULD I GET CRAZY? for traumas? just manifest i don't have them? for failing? you can't fail shifting? for x, y, z? NO. it's not possible. You won't get crazy for something like that. Sure shifting is a crazy concept (for ppl of this reality at least) but that doesn't mean you'll get crazy 😭

15. Seeing shifting in everything

Like it's annoying. Sure is good if you see it in positive things but is not if you see it in bad things. Like everytime i see someone give hate to religions i feel target even if shifting IS NOT a religion. Or when they shame cults when shifting IS NOT a cult (and shame cults is like..right? if they're bad). Or when someone say a poetic phrase that cannot applicate to shifting. That doesn't mean they don't believe in shifting. If there is a thing I know is that NOTHING applies to EVERYTHING. what works for someone doesn't for someone else. what something matter for x thing, doesn't for y thing and is OKAY. the same with shifting and all it comprehends (like journey ecc..).

As I said before most of this problems disappears in the morning. Idk why i get that at night, probably because I convinced myself is like that. So the solution is just manifest and i'm doing it. I just wanted to talk and try to be helpful to someone (and maybe make friends with the same problems so we can give each other tips). Every problem can be fought don't worry too much.

Hopes it helps someone! BYEE! :)

#loa blog #loa tumblr #loablr #loassblog #loassumption #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifters #shifting blog #shifting community #desired reality

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eulaysalops · 1 month ago

Text

Blindspot | Chapter One

Spencer Reid X Helena Blake (OFC)

Summary: When a woman with no identity disappears, Spencer Reid is thrown into an investigation that quickly becomes personal. Helena Blake, a figure from his past, resurfaces through notes, codes, and buried memories. Amidst enigmatic clues and a conspiracy involving neuroscience and mind manipulation, Reid must decipher the truth—before silence swallows her forever.

She isn't lost. She's hidden. And only he can find her.

Warnings: Psychological manipulation, sensory deprivation, illegal medical experimentation, disappearance, kidnapping, institutional conspiracy, memory/identity disorders, psychological violence, mental disorders mentioned (Diana Reid)

(If I forgot any, please let me know)

Author's Note: This is my first post, please be kind. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling, grammar, and slang errors that may be present in the story. 🇧🇷🤍

Lista da série

BAU Conference Room

The BAU's conference room was steeped in a thick silence, the kind that heralds storms. The rustle of turning pages, the opening of folders, and the pouring of coffee into cheap plastic cups marked the beginning of another unlikely day. Because at the BAU, normal days didn't exist.

JJ entered first, a thin folder in her hands and an expression that blended tension and restraint.

"We have a new case. Baltimore. Woman missing for three days," she said, without preamble. "Local police found the scene...strange. Nothing indicates a direct struggle, but there are inconsistencies. And so far, no one's been able to confirm the victim's identity."

"No identity?" Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Fingerprints, documents, neighbors?"

"Nothing." JJ slid the sheet to him. "She lived alone. No close relatives, no accounts in her name. No driver's license. No social media. Nothing."

"That's not normal," Emily murmured. "Even ghosts leave a digital trail."

"Exactly. It's like she appeared out of nowhere...and evaporated just the same way."

She placed a single sheet on the table. An image captured by a security camera. The woman's face was slightly out of focus, her hair casually tied back. But her gaze...

It was a gaze that said something. That knew something.

Reid picked up the photo without much interest—until his eyes met hers. He froze for a second. A cold pang shot through his chest. As if the image pulled something old. Something buried.

He took a deep breath.

But he said nothing.

"Any leads on where she's been in the past few days?" Emily asked, flipping pages.

"Neighbors said she was reserved. Worked from home as a consultant, but no one knows what field. The name on the apartment lease appears to be fake."

Hotch entered last, a map of Baltimore under his arm.

"We fly out this afternoon. The local detective asked for help. Said he has 'things that don't add up,' but doesn't know where to start. We need to fill in a lot of gaps. No identity, no history, no connections. This woman is an enigma."

The meeting ended quickly. Too quickly for what Reid was feeling.

He stared at the photo longer than he should have. There was a latent unease he couldn't name. Those eyes seemed to know him. More than any unfamiliar face should.

He tucked the paper into the bottom of his folder with an automatic gesture—and a discomfort that refused to be silenced.

Police Precinct, Baltimore

The place smelled of burnt coffee, old papers, and unresolved urgency. As soon as they arrived, they were greeted by the detective.

"Hi, I'm Jennifer Jareau, you can call me JJ. We spoke on the phone. These are Agents Hotchner, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi... and Dr. Reid. We'll need a room to set up our post."

"It's a pleasure. I appreciate the help." Detective Bell greeted them one by one. "Detective Shawn will be available for whatever you need. We've already set aside a room."

Settled in their new base, the team quickly divided. Morgan and Emily went to get more details from the detective. Hotch pored over the victim's apartment records. Reid stayed with JJ, reviewing the few available images and data.

Garcia appeared on the line, vibrant as always—but with a hint of frustration.

"Okay, JJ, babycakes... I've scoured four federal databases, two private, even obscure social media sites only Russian teenagers use. And? Nothing. This woman doesn't exist."

"Nothing at all?" JJ frowned.

"Not even a fake social security number. Not even a public university library card number from 1990. It's like someone took a cosmic eraser and wiped her off the planet."

"Then keep looking. Check old academic records, scholarships, elite school archives. Any similar woman, anything."

"Copy that, cupcake. I'm even going into Sith mode here."

While JJ spoke with Garcia, Reid organized the records. The woman's photo now seemed to burn his fingers. There was something about her face. The way her eyes were half-attentive, half-eluding.

A name almost came to mind.

But it didn't.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to excavate the memory.

Nothing.

"You're acting strange," JJ commented, noticing his silence. "Does that photo remind you of someone?"

Reid hesitated.

"No..." he lied.

But deep down, in the blind spot of his memory, a name began to vibrate like an ancient echo.

Helena.

And this... this was only the beginning.

The woman's apartment was too silent. Light walls, neutral decor. Everything meticulously organized, cold, impersonal. A place where no one truly lived—they merely existed.

Reid walked slowly through the rooms, his eyes registering every detail. No dishes in the sink. No pictures on the walls. The books—many of them—were lined up alphabetically, dust-free, showing no signs of use. All, except one.

"Crime and Punishment," Dostoevsky.

Left casually on the coffee table, like an intentional error. A break in the symmetry.

Reid stopped in front of it. He carefully picked up the book, as if it were a relic. As he opened it, something light and old fell out: a note.

Yellowed with time, with fragile edges and fading ink.

"The problem with pretending to be someone you're not...

is forgetting who you were."

— H.

The handwriting was familiar.

The phrase, even more so.

For a second, Reid felt the ground shift. His mind leaped—quick, sharp—towards something he thought he had forgotten.

"Anything?" Emily appeared in the doorway of the room.

Reid turned with the reflex of someone hiding a secret. With a discreet movement, he folded the note and tucked it between the pages. He placed the book back on the table, as if nothing had happened.

"Nothing conclusive yet," he replied, his voice too controlled.

Emily stared at him for a second longer than necessary. She noticed his discomfort—but didn't push.

"It looks like she wanted to be invisible, right?" she commented, looking around. "Nothing personal. Not a single photo, not even a grocery list."

"Invisibility requires discipline," Reid murmured, not looking at her. "This place...it was meticulously constructed. She didn't want to leave any traces. None."

He ran his fingers over the spine of the book. The note inside seemed to weigh more than the Russian novel itself.

Penelope Garcia – Connected from the BAU

Garcia's voice came through the speakerphone in the small room at the precinct, a mix of excitement and frustration.

"Guys, I have a lead. Partial, but intriguing."

"Send it, Garcia," JJ said, pulling up a chair.

"Our missing person's image doesn't appear in official databases. But...I found an incomplete match in a Caltech record, dated 1999."

"Name?" Hotch went straight to the point.

"Only the first: Helena. The file is corrupted. Student ID photo was moved or deleted. I found it by metadata. It's a digital miracle I even got this, so...you're welcome."

Reid, leaning against the door, froze.

Caltech. 1999.

Helena.

The name exploded in his mind like a memory that only needed a spark.

🔙 Flashback — Pasadena, 1999

Spencer Reid walked through the Caltech library corridors balancing three books, reading as he walked—as always.

The turn of the corridor was unforgiving.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, the books falling like dominoes.

"Watch it, walking genius," a female voice said.

She crouched down to help. Dark brown eyes, a smile that didn't ask permission. The kind of presence that didn't need to announce its arrival.

"You read while walking? That's an assault on your physical integrity."

"Technically, it's just inefficient," Reid replied, pulling his books closer, his face flushed.

"Spencer, right?" she extended her hand. "I'm Helena. Helena Blake."

"You...are you in the logic program?"

"I'm in a lot of places," she replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "I just haven't decided where I belong yet."

He remained silent. She laughed.

"It's a metaphor. Or a joke. Your choice."

🔙 Present — Precinct, Baltimore

Reid closed his eyes.

Helena Blake.

The woman in the photo. The missing woman.

And now, more than ever, a woman he definitely knew.

But he said nothing. Not yet.

On the other end of the line, Garcia continued:

"And here's the kicker: after 2001, there's no trace of her. None. It's like she evaporated from the planet."

Hotch crossed his arms.

"We're dealing with someone who spent the last few years erasing their own history. The question is: why?"

And Reid remained there, silent, his mind racing.

Maybe he never truly knew who she was.

Maybe no one did.

But now...he would have no choice but to find out.

Next chapter

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sjsmith56 · 10 months ago

Text

Bucky Barnes, Deadpool and the TVA (or How I ended up inside the fourth wall)

Summary: A Bucky Barnes fanfiction writer finds herself in the same universe as the Thunderbolts* Bucky when she wakes up in his bed.

Length: 4.1 K

Characters: Unnamed and undescribed OFC, Bucky Barnes, Dr. Strange, Wong, B-15, variant of OFC, OMC (OFC’s husband)

Warnings: some sexual innuendo, naked horny Bucky, no smut (sorry)

Author notes: Just a silly story that I pulled from somewhere in my mind. The part about the OFC and her husband seeing the new Deadpool movie at a matinee was based on real life.

💻 🦾 🛵

The blank page stared at me. It wasn't blank five minutes ago, but I read what I wrote, and didn't like it, so I deleted it and then I was looking at the page again. We met before, you, the reader and me, the writer. I sought help from the very reason I write, Bucky Barnes. The writing gods first sent me World War II Bucky, a sweet flirty guy who was still interested in the stories I wrote. The version that appeared to me was from before Azzano and before the train; that dreadful transport of death that changed his whole life in a moment. Then they sent me the Winter Soldier, the dark brooding villain ... I know, he was more than that, but that was HYDRAs use of him. He was their Fist, brutally carrying out assassinations on targets they assigned him. Relentless and frightening in his attention to his task he was still a sight to see; that tall, dark-haired muscular menace and the way he strutted towards his target. No hesitation, no regrets and totally the object of many fantasies. I still got warm thinking about the ones I read about, never mind wrote. On that day, it was Falcon and the Winter Soldier (FATWS) Bucky who came to my rescue. It was him as he was portrayed at the end of the series, seemingly in a place where he felt at home in Delacroix, becoming part of Sam Wilson's family as their adopted uncle. That Bucky sat with me, helped me through my writer's block, and even gave me an idea for a Black Widow smut piece that was a gift to my husband. Before he left, he said he would always be there for me. At the time, he probably meant it. Then there was a disturbance in the Force.

Wrong franchise, I know, but how else to explain how things seemed to go a bit sideways? There were the What If? episodes, that displayed Bucky as the sidekick to Captain Carter. Those was okay, then he was more of the dark brooding long-hair version of Wakanda Bucky in a zombie wasteland. At least we got to see a cartoon version of him in the shower, from the waist up. Wasn't quite enough to quench the fandom's thirst for him but it was a start. Don't even get me started on the Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas special where Nebula appeared with Bucky's vibranium arm, opening a whole can of worms over whether it was funny (not to me), cute (seriously stealing Bucky's arm is cute?) and canon (no, James Gunn, it wasn't canon to me). Yes, I'm changing the tense in the middle of a paragraph by telling you to don't @ me if you're a believer in any of the three above. To me, all three of those scenarios were just wrong. I got emotional then and I still do.

I wrote since then, some AUs, lots of one shots as I explored that format, several short fiction pieces of less than 50,000 words, and a couple of long ones. It was going well, then they brought out the Captain America 4 announcement that Bucky wouldn't be in it (what?) and the Thunderbolts* announcement that Sam Wilson wouldn't be in that (seriously?). Why did they get us to invest our time and interest in a six-part series about these two men forging a deep friendship if they had no intention of continuing it in their movies? The rumours about Bucky in this upcoming movie littered the pages of tumblr and Twitter (sorry / not sorry X); things like Bucky regressed mentally and emotionally, he and Sam had a falling out, he became a congressman, or he went to work for Val de Fontaine so that he didn't lose his pardon.

Why would they do that to Bucky? Let the man have a fucking life. As you could see I got emotional about it. On that particular day I decided to have a nap and clear my mind, then it all changed.

💤

"Hey, sweetheart." I could hear the voice, then I felt a cold hand around my waist, reaching up under my T-shirt. Jerking away and turning around I found myself in bed with Bucky Barnes, beefy Bucky, with the bad haircut shown in the leaked preview of the Thunderbolts*. "There she is."

He had no shirt on, and I found it hard to look at him, then opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I noticed the smirk on his face, which made me feel warm, like really warm, the way the writers of Bucky smut describe it; a warm pool forming in my core, between my thighs, deep in my .... What happened to me? Where was I?

"You okay, doll? You have a nightmare?" His hand cupped my jaw, as he rubbed his thumb on my cheek.

"You're Bucky," I said, still frozen in place, because let's face it, it's not everyday you find yourself in bed with your romantic fantasy.

"Last I checked," he answered, licking his lips then running his hand over the beard he grew since he was in FATWS. "You're my wife."

I pulled away from him, aware that he might not have anything on at all. He looked at me funny.

"You seem different. Tell me you're not a multiverse version of you that's been dropped here."

"I don't know," I answered, pulling the sheet up to cover my front since I realized I wasn't wearing a bra, and my nipples were doing something that was a little disconcerting. "Am I a writer? Are we married? Are you working for Val de Fontaine?"

He laughed, showing those beautiful white teeth, then he leaned close, gently pulling down the sheet and began to nuzzle my neck, making me feel all sorts of things.

"No, yes, and no," he answered. "Come here."

I pulled away so far that I fell out of bed and sat there on the floor with him looking over the edge at me with a decidedly perturbed expression on his face. With only panties on underneath that T-shirt I pulled on the sheet, so I was covered again.

"What's got into you?"

"What's my name, Bucky?"

"Sweetheart, sunshine, baby girl, darlin' and my personal favourite, doll." He was resting his head on his hands, looking at me in a way that was definitely more friendly than I was comfortable with.

"Those aren't names, they're terms of endearment," I answered. "I am married but not to you and you're supposed to be an Avenger, with Sam Wilson."

"Really, just who are you married to and what is your name?" he asked, in a flirting manner. "Gotta say, sunshine, this role-playing thing could be fun."

I told him my husband's name and my name. "I shouldn't be part of the multiverse because it's not real. It's fiction."

He laughed, then saw I wasn't laughing and frowned. Angry Bucky alert. "You have to be from the multiverse. If you're not, where's my wife? Why do you look and sound like her?"

I raised my hands up. "I don't know where she is. I look like her because I write fanfiction of you, and I picture myself in the original female character's role. She usually becomes your love interest. But I had writer's block because Marvel has been messing around with your portrayal and not giving out much information of how they've changed your character. It was bugging me, so I took a nap, then woke up next to you."

"Who's this Marvel guy? Do you think he knows where my wife is?"

He didn't know about the fourth wall, was definitely angry and all I could think of was that he looked just as angry now as he did in that leaked Thunderbolts* footage.

"Marvel's not a guy, it's a corporation that owns the copyright to your character." I winced as I explained it to him, knowing he wasn't liking it. "You're not real, Bucky. You're a fictional character from the comics and the movies they made from it. But you know this already. I've spoken to you in your World War II persona, your Winter Soldier persona and from when you and Sam fought the Flag Smashers. That's called your FATWS era."

I started to explain what the letters meant but he just glared at me, so I stopped. He pulled away from the edge of the bed and got out on the other side, naked, and I did stare, I'll admit it. God, he had a nice ass and the rest of him from the back was... wow. Then he turned to face me, and I looked everywhere but there.

"Get dressed," he ordered. "You're taking me to this Marvel place and I'm going to get my wife back."

"It's not as easy as that," I replied. He stared at me, his arms crossed defiantly in front of him while he was still showing everything the serum gave him. I focused on his face, but it was so hard ... not that, you know what I mean. "If this is a multiverse incursion then there might not be a Marvel in this universe and even if there was it wouldn't be possible to just walk in there. We have to find Dr. Strange. He's the only one who can do anything."

"Fine," he said, "but you're still coming with me. Now get dressed."

Holding the sheet around me I approached the walk-in closet, but he was still standing there, naked, in all of his glory and he smelled so good when I slid past him to see what was available for me to wear. Then he was right behind me, practically pressing himself into me and I had to focus, wondering if I had ever written this much raw physical sexuality into my versions of Bucky but it was difficult to concentrate with him so close.

"You having problems, baby girl?" he asked, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath making me moist.

"I don't know what to wear," I mumbled, still painfully aware of his naked body this close to me and I was really only separated from him by a sheet.

"We're going on the motorcycle," he said. "Jeans, T-shirts, and leather jackets."

"Right," I answered, hastily going through the sexy dresses, the long gowns with the thigh-high slits, the almost obscene lingerie, but there were no jeans or T-shirts. "Um, where are they?"

"In the drawers," he grunted. "Don't you have drawers in your universe?"

"Yes," I snapped. "Could you stand further away from me?"

"What's the matter, darlin'? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"This close to me while naked, yes." I rolled my eyes, which he must have heard because he huffed, but he did move away, and I was able to get out of that small space.

Quickly, I located the drawer that had jeans and pulled them on. They were tighter than anything I ever wore but somehow, I got them on. The bra selection left a lot to be desired as most of it was see through and really didn't offer much support. I must have made a noise while I was searching for something more modest because he was suddenly beside me.

"Having a problem, sweetheart? Don't see anything you like? My wife loves all the lingerie I buy for her."

"It's not my style," I answered. "Doesn't she have something that covers more?"

"Sports bra," he answered. "Bottom drawer."

I pulled it open, thankful to find an assortment of sports bras. Pulling one out I started to take the T-shirt off that I woke up in then became aware of his eyes on me. Turning around I was startled to see him reclining on the bed, propped up on one elbow, fully clothed, with his booted feet hanging off the bed.

"Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind at all," he smirked. "Don't let me stop you. I've seen it all anyways."

"But you're married. Wouldn't watching me get dressed make your wife angry?"

He grinned in an almost wolfish manner. "We have an understanding."

"What? The Bucky's I write are monogamous. Are you polyamorous?"

The grin became a broad smile as he looked me up and down. "If the occasion arises. Gotta say I'm curious to see if you have the same appetites as my doll."

"Out!" I wasn't in the mood for this. "Right now. Go downstairs and get your motorcycle ready."

Slowly, he slid off the bed, then approached me, backing me up to the dresser, while looking at me in a way that gave me thrills at the same time as setting off all sorts of warning bells in my head.

"You sure, sunshine?" His fingertips grasped a tendril of my hair, as he twirled it slightly. "I could definitely make you ...."

"Out," I repeated. "Please stop this."

He backed up, suddenly respectful of my space. "Since you said the magic word, I'll wait downstairs for you."

Just like that, he was gone, and I quickly got the sports bra on, then a clean T-shirt. I pulled on some socks and found some boots, sliding them on. With a quick run through of my hair with my fingers I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what I had done to get into this predicament.

He was waiting on his motorcycle for me, with a helmet in hand. As I stood there, he placed it on my head, adjusting the chin strap then nodding his head in approval, before putting his on. I slid on behind him, grasping him at the waist. His voice came over a Bluetooth speaker in the helmet.

"You okay, darlin'? Have you ridden a motorcycle before?"

"I'm good. My husband has one and I've ridden with him. Where are we going?"

"The Sanctum Sanctorum," he said. "Might as well go straight to Dr. Strange."

Suddenly, we were there, pulling up to an open parking spot in front of the headquarters of the Masters of the Mythical Arts in the middle of Greenwich Village. This was definitely a unique universe, as we skipped over the long motorcycle ride from Brooklyn, then the frustration of finding any sort of parking. Striding over to the door, Bucky rang the bell, and we were ushered in by an acolyte to where Dr. Strange was drinking a cup of tea and Wong was standing there wringing his hands. Before we could even say anything the two men looked at me, then at each other, then at Bucky.

"Where did you find her?" asked Wong.

That wolfish grin briefly appeared again on Bucky's face. "In my bed. Says she's not my wife, so where is she?"

"That is a good question," said Strange, placing his teacup on the table and approaching me, assessing me in a way that was a little disturbing. "Well, this explains a lot. You're from the real world, aren't you? Beyond the fourth wall."

"Yes, I guess. I'm a fanfiction writer and was taking a nap. When I woke up it was next to him." I pointed at Bucky. "The thing is, he's nothing like the Bucky Barnes character that I write about."

"What's different about him?" Strange's one eyebrow was higher than the other. It was one thing seeing it in the movies but another thing seeing it in person. "Is there a problem with my face?"

"No, no. The biggest difference is that the Bucky's I write are monogamous and this one is polyamorous."

"And? That's a problem?"

I became aware that I was in the middle of all three men, and they were looking at me as if I were lunch, served on a platter just for them.

"Stop!" I barked. "Yeah, it's a problem, okay? Is this a polyamorous universe? Because I'm not! I'm married to one man, and I want to go back to him. Please, you must find a way to get me back to where I belong."

Wong backed away from me first. "She's right. Consent is still required in this universe. Plus, with her being from beyond the fourth wall we could really hurt her. She's actual flesh and blood ... we're fictional characters."

Dr. Strange backed away, returning to his cup of tea. Bucky, well, he just sprawled on a couch as if he had always lived there.

"Tell me about what you were doing before you slept," said Strange.

I told him about the physical changes to Bucky's appearance based on the leaked preview of Thunderbolts* and how the fandom was worrying about his portrayal, and the fact that after a six part series of him and Sam becoming friends Marvel just casually split them apart into two different movies as if the other didn't even exist.

"You care about him," said Strange, his voice neutral. "You want him to be happy."

"Well, yeah," I replied. "The man lost everything that mattered to him and was tortured for 70 years, experimented on, and forced to become a killer for a gang of authoritarian thugs. My thing, my contribution to fanfiction is that Bucky gets a happy ending."

"Sweetheart, I have that," said the super soldier, from where he sat on the couch. "I admit that I am fucked up, but my wife makes me happy and her interest in our extramarital activities is the same as mine. Yet, you treat me like I'm some sort of deviant."

"No, it's not that." I sighed. "Other writers see you in this way and that's fine; that's their thing and lots of people read them and enjoy them but I guess I just like you better when you're monogamous, kind and gentle. To someone like me, this version of you is a bit scary and overwhelming."

"That's fair," he murmured. "You look like my wife. Does your husband look like me?"

"No, not at all," I smiled. "He's shorter, balding, not as fit. But he loves me and he's faithful, kind, and gentle. He beta reads my stories, and I even wrote a Black Widow smut piece just for him. I think he imagines me as his Black Widow sometimes."

Bucky grinned, then nodded his head approvingly.

"Do they break the fourth wall in this Thunderbolts* movie?" asked Wong.

"I don't know. It hasn't come out yet and there's been very few previews of it. I think the only Marvel character that breaks the fourth wall is Deadpool. His movie with Wolverine just came out recently and is making a ton of money."

Both Dr. Strange and Wong perked up. "Deadpool? As in Wade Wilson?"

I nodded. "Yeah, he's fully aware in the movies and comic books that he's fictional. He often breaks the fourth wall."

My voice tapered off. Was I here because of Deadpool?

"Sunshine, have you seen the movie?" Bucky was also sitting upright.

I nodded my head. "My husband and I went to see the matinee just a few days ago."

A green glow emanated from the time stone as Dr. Strange went to wherever he went when he activated it. Wong watched him carefully as did Bucky. Then the Supreme Sorcerer stopped his permutations and gazed at me.

"The Time Variance Authority are in this movie," he stated. "I have a feeling they're involved in this. But why they would take someone from the real world and place them here is a mystery to me."

Suddenly a TVA portal opened in front of us, and B-15 walked out followed by me, at least a version of me, wearing only a T-shirt and panties. Bucky jumped up from the couch.

"Doll? Is it you?"

"Oh Daddy, I was so afraid," she cried, as he wrapped his arms around her. "I woke up in a cell and didn't know how I got there, and ...." She noticed me. "She's me."

"I'm sorry," said B-15, looking at me. "A terrible mistake was made. Beyond the fourth wall is usually forbidden to our hunters but when you went to see the Deadpool movie your presence was noticed in the theatre with your Bucky variant."

"Wait, my husband is a Bucky variant?"

The leader of the TVA smiled. "Well, yes. It's why you write Bucky Barnes fanfiction. You see him as Bucky and yourself as the original female character. You don't have to look alike to be a variant. It's just that you're kind of the model for the OFC in your own universe where you draw your inspiration from. It's supposed to be a private universe and off limits to the TVA. Unfortunately, one of our hunters didn't understand that. He removed Mrs. Barnes here as an illegal variant and installed you as the original in this universe. He has been sent for judgement and won't be in a position to do that again. We are also making sure all of our hunters are aware that the Bucky Barnes fanfiction that you write and read in your own private universe is just that, private, at least to us."

"So how do we get this Mrs. Barnes back to her universe beyond the fourth wall?" asked Dr. Strange. "I have the feeling it's beyond my capabilities."

B-15 smiled at him. "It is but not beyond mine. As soon as she's ready to go I'll open a portal back to her universe."

It sounded simple and like many movies, a little bit of a quick fix, but I wanted to go back so I wasn't going to question it. Wong smiled at me.

"Good luck on the next one shot," he said.

I nodded at him, then Dr. Strange looked at me in that superior way he sometimes had. "I knew there would be a logical solution."

"Right."

Bucky was next, his wife already wearing his leather jacket.

"Oh, this is yours," I said, starting to take the one I had off.

"Keep it sweetheart, as a souvenir," he smirked. "Say hi to your husband for me. Tell me something. The lady there said something about the fiction you read. Does that mean you do read the polyamorous stuff, since you ended up in my bed?"

I sighed as I hated being put in a position of agreeing. "Every so often one captures my eye," I admitted. "Doesn't mean it's something I'm interested in trying."

"If you say so." He glanced at his wife with affection. "You came through for me. I appreciate it."

I looked at B-15. "I'm ready."

She nodded at the others, then punched a few buttons on her TemPad. A portal opened and I walked through it, then felt the touch of my husband's hand on my shoulder as I was still on top of the bed.

"Honey? Wake up."

I sat up, saw my husband, and felt a rush of affection for him.

"Sorry, I took a nap, and I guess I was more tired than what I thought."

"No worries," he smiled. "Um, did you go shopping today? Is that a new jacket and jeans and boots?"

I was still in the other Mrs. Barnes' clothing.

"Yes?" I answered, tentatively.

He smiled and nodded his head appreciatively. "I like them. Makes you look hot. You should wear stuff like that more often." Offering me his hand, he helped me up. "What do you think of taking a ride on the bike and going to a diner for dinner? My treat."

"Sounds like a plan," I answered. "Just let me freshen up a little."

When I got outside my husband was already waiting on his Vespa. I know what you're thinking ... a Vespa is not a motorcycle. Maybe not in the traditional sense but it is what we have and it's a lot of fun. I still get to wrap my arms around my husband's waist and maybe he doesn't have a hard body like Bucky Barnes, but he's all mine and I don't have to share him with anyone. Besides, now that I know he's a Bucky variant I understand how he knows what I like between the sheets, if you get what I mean. When I do write smut, I'm writing about my Bucky, the one I live with in this universe, beyond the fourth wall.

One Shots Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes oneshot #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #multiverse #TVA #bucky barnes variants #writing something silly

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irontragedyreview · 1 year ago

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I was waiting for the official translation of this chapter because I wanted to know what meaning they were going to give to this phrase and since I don't know Japanese the most accurate thing I will get is the official translation.

At first I was going to take just Shoto's panel but in the end I decided to also take the previous one because the phrase "there's sure to be a period of chaos the books don't talk about", this phrase plus the way Shoto talks about the lack of a symbol and how a person like Afo born or emerges from them, it’s something that left me thinking and a little uneasy, because while I understand what Shoto says, it makes me wonder how much these kids know about their history.

What I'm trying to get is that the concept of Horikoshi's pre-Quirk society isn’t original, in fact it can be found literally in the X-Men comics, I would even say that you don't even have to go to the comics, The X-Men movies of the early 2000s showed us the pre-quirk society of bnha, the first scene of that movie is Jean Gray speaking in front of Congress against the anti-mutant registry, throughout this debate the question that makes Jean's words lose power is "Are mutants dangerous?", the question itself is unfair because Jean answers is that everything has the potential to be dangerous, even a teenager driving a car, the reply is that those cases can be regulated but mutants are an unknown and therefore a danger as they can’t be controlled. The original trilogy has this presentation to a society fearful of mutants, the end of the trilogy is the invention of a cure against the X gene, which is discovered through the experimentation of a mutant child (Chisaki arc). This is later taken up in the films that focus on being prequels, in X-Men days of future past where we meet Dr. Trask whose introduction is him explaining how the evolutionary chain of the human being was, how those more evolved ended exterminated their less evolved ancestors, the mutants here are the next evolutionary step and all those born without the X gene are the least evolved, who in Trask's words will only follow the same path as their ancestors before.

Now, whoever reads this will say "why is this story important and what does it have to do with Shoto's words?" Well, it's that Shoto's words, plus the panel that refers to those events that are outside the books, they make me wonder how the UA students know history, because they live in a society where the supremacy of the quirk is what is imposed, they didn’t live in first stages and we know little or nothing about how this stage is told to the generations that followed. Afo, Yoichi, Kudo and Bruce were born in the first glimpses of quirk society, however there is something that is interesting and that is that Kudo doesn’t represent a front against discrimination to people with quirks, they were a revolutionary army againts Afo, Yoichi himself never thinks about the discrimination and mistreatment of quirk people in the society in which he grew up, which is incredibly strange considering that he witnessed his brother killing a group that planned to kill them for recognizing that Afo belonged to that new generation of people. The pre-Quirk society carried out practices of discrimination and perhaps even death of people they considered dangerous, the majority of quirkless people in the old society were terrified of the quirks and their response was to attack the unknown. Ofc, we can only talk about Japan since we don't know what happened throughout the world, from what we can see the glowing baby was not considered dangerous in China, or perhaps there were certain quirks that were less inconvenient than others but in Japan we can see that there were groups against people with quirks.

Now, returning to Shoto's words, the big problem of the society in which Afo was born is not the lack of symbols, the chaos of pre-Quirk society was based on fear and discrimination of an unknown other. The times after the first stages are unknown to all readers, we only know what Horikoshi said, we also know that the society where Toshinori grew up and decided to become a symbol of peace was also very different. All Might is presented to us in the manga as the first symbol not only of peace but also as the first symbol of society, although Banjo is one of the first group of heroes who aren’t what we know as vigilantes (please correct me if I'm wrong). ), it isn’t until All Might and his long career that the society of heroes as we know it now is consolidated. All Might is the symbol and only pillar where this society stands and that explains how weak a symbol that shapes society can be, because once AM can no longer act as such, that is when society breaks down. In the movie Catching Fire there is a very interesting conversation between Snow and Katniss, where Snow tells her that Katniss' behavior cannot be ignored, because if people thought they could face the Capitol without fear, eventually the system would collapse and Katniss responds "what a fragile system if it collapses because of a few berries"

With all this I’m trying to say that having a symbol or not does not end up being a factor of true stability, AM or rather Toshinori renounced every aspect of his personal life to become the symbol of peace and bear the weight of society, but his figure was the only thing that kept society in order, the symbol of peace was fragile and only hid a broken and corrupt society, this isn’t AM's fault, the problem is that when Shoto talks about the lack of a symbol doesn’t finish internalizing that society with a symbol didn’t work either, because the symbol was only represented in a man and when he could no longer take his place, Endevor could have been the number one hero but he isn’t a symbol at the level of AM, no hero could fill that place.

So, is it the lack of symbol that allows chaos to be generated? Or is the function of a symbol to create stability? What happens when the symbol is more revolutionary and generates chaos or confrontation? This is where I may sound controversial but Afo could have been a symbol for the people he "helped", in a twisted way he was a symbol of refuge for people who were rejected and found with him a place to belong or even a solution to be found, someone that could take away the quirk that made them different in that society, Tomura is a symbol for those who didn’tt fit into society, we saw that when in the previous chapters he said that he wanted to be the hero of the villains, when we saw panels of people who said "Yes, Shigaraki destroys everything", Spinner is a symbol for the discrimination of heteromorphs even though Horikoshi neglected the issue.

So, in bnha there are symbols, the problem is that the heroes lost the symbol that gave stability to the society that they know, the society was sustained by covering its problems and creating its villains through the rejection and indifference of those who didn’t fit. The society of pre-quirks didn’t become chaos due to the lack of symbols but due to the systematic mistreatment of a minority where fear led to violence, Afo knew how to take advantage of those expelled at the time. It’s for all this that I wonder how much the UA students know about history and the formation of society, of course there could have been sides represented, for example like Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, who could be symbols in that pre-quirk society but these wouldn’t have avoided chaos, since it’s formed by the discrimination of others considered different. The society of heroes in bnha doesn’tt need a symbol embodied in a person, it isn’t the lack of a symbol that generates chaos but the system, symbols can often be functional to the perpetuation of the same, instead of corrections to their shortcomings.

#shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya #tomura shigaraki #afo bnha #ofa #bnha #mha #bnha 425 #mha 425 #lov bnha #lov mha #toga himiko #touya todoroki #dabi #heroes society #bnha meta

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heavensentbabygirl · 19 days ago

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— GOODGIRL ♡

Dr strange x fem! Reader

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Dr strange smut lil thing bc im simping hard for this mannnn ughhh.

Cw: daddy kink, power kink if you squint, spanking, hair pulling, sub and dom dynamics 18+ only minors gtfo!!

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Thinking abt dr strange with a daddy kink, how gentle he can be and how fucking rough he can be. ofc he has a soft spot for you and will play nice sweet and gentle. But he will 100% punish you just becuase he loves seeing you cry. Especially that pouty face you make when you’re begging on your knees.

He’ll have you on his lap, placing you on his thigh. his hands supporting you by your waist, keeping you close to him. while he’s fidgeting with the delicate laces on your nightgown. Toying with the ribbons, not wanting to untie them. there's tension in the air, the subtle movements of his thigh causing friction to your clit. Occasionally, he purposely rubbed against you just so He can feel how soaked you are. The anticipation of what's going through his head is killing you. What did he have in store for you?

“Now sweetheart, what have i told you about touching yourself when I’m not around? Hm?”

Embarrassed, your hiding in his chest, heart racing, tears promising to fall, but your trying to keep it together. You know you messed up by touching your self without his permission, but you couldn’t help it you were desperate and to be fair he’s always in and out from work. Always leaving you alone in your shared bed leaving you hugging pillows.

Your head is spiraling, scared of what Stephen will do to you, maybe punishment?or maybe he’ll be a good daddy to you and let this one go! That thought vanishes the second you hear Stephens sigh. He sighs heavy and frustrated. He grabs your hair pulling you towards him forcing you to look up at his piercing gaze.

“I asked you a question.”

You let out a small whine, palms pressed against his chest, seeking any ounce of comfort he could give you. He’s analyzing your expression, he would never tell you this but he loves how pathetic you are and how you just take anything he does to you. He almost feels bad, maybe he’s being too cruel. He thinks for a second, but this is soo much fun to him and He knows you can take it.

“Stephen i.. i just miss-“

He smacks your ass catching you off-guard. he leans in closer, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. With a low voice, he whispered, “You better address me properly, or I’ll bend you over my lap right now and give you ten more.” He threathens.

“D-daddy.. I’m sorry i was just needy.. m just miss you so so much!please forgive me..”

You’re practically whining to him pleading for him to forgive you. But, There it is, just what he wanted to hear. choking on your sobs, he wipes your tears away smirking at how submissive and pathetic you are. He pulls you close letting you cry in his chest, petting your head softly. He loves his girl so much, maybe he’ll punish you or maybe he wont. Stephen is just unpredictable like that. <3

“Good girl.”

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#dr strange #marvel #stephen strange #x reader #smut #marvel smut #dr strange x reader #drstrange smut

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bananababblegigglemuffin · 9 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT SPACE SERIES TEASER

In the cold silence of space, a lone spaceship drifts through the cosmos, carrying a crew of scientists—and one reluctant guest. Logan, better known as Wolverine, thought he was just tagging along on a research mission, but when strange occurrences begin to plague the ship, the crew soon realizes they’re not alone. With shadows lurking in the corners and whispers echoing in the air, the fear intensifies. As the crew struggles to uncover the truth behind the sinister presence, Wolverine’s feral instincts kick in. Amidst the terror, an unexpected bond forms between him and a brave scientist, igniting a passion that burns brighter than the stars. Will they survive the darkness, or will the horrors of space tear them apart?

Prepare for a tale of cosmic horror, steamy encounters, and the indomitable spirit of Wolverine as he battles not only the unknown but also the walls he’s built around his heart.

Orrr

DOCTOR LOGAN. THE ROMCOM.

When Dr. Logan Howlett, the grumpy yet ridiculously handsome surgeon with a penchant for bad jokes, is paired with the cheerful and clumsy nurse X (idk her name yet), chaos is inevitable. Logan is just trying to get through his shifts without losing his mind—or his medical license—while she seems to have a talent for turning routine procedures into slapstick comedy. From accidentally mixing up medications to a mishap involving a patient’s rubber chicken, every day is a wild ride.

As they navigate absurd hospital antics, x’s unshakeable optimism and uncanny ability to lighten any mood slowly chip away at Logan’s tough exterior. When a misunderstanding leads to a series of increasingly outrageous bets, including a ‘dance-off’ in scrubs and a karaoke showdown with the surgical team, their banter turns into something more.

Between hilarious medical emergencies, unexpected encounters in the supply closet, and the antics of their quirky coworkers, Logan and x must confront their growing attraction while keeping their jobs intact. Will Logan finally let his guard down, or will his heart remain as guarded as his surgical instruments?

Get ready for a laugh-out-loud comedy filled with steamy moments, misunderstandings, and enough medical mishaps to keep you on the edge of your seat!

If I forgot to mention yes. Yes. Both of em have a lot of marvel cameos and wade is in it ofc

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saiilorstars · 3 months ago

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Chapter 6: "12144"

TVD || Enzo x OFC Story Masterlist | Rosalie’s Masterlist Also on: Fanfic • Ao3 • Wattpad Taglist: @ocappreciationtag@arrthurpendragon @transformerfan97 @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic@kmc1989 @caplanbuckybarnes

Rosalie stumbled into the boarding house giggling girlishly. She had an oversized jacket on and was holding a bright pink smoothie in her hand. Her giggle was cut short when she bumped into Katherine who was on her way out. Katherine didn't think twice and shoved the girl to the side and went on her way without so much of a word.

"Good morning to you too!" Rosalie called after her, hiccuping and turning around. "Oh!" She was alarmed with the sight of a bloodied and disheveled Damon across her. "What the hell happened to you?"

Damon looked like he was shuddering and truthfully like he had been in the pits of hell. "Where the hell are you coming from?" He grunted at her.

"Hm? Oh! Caroline, Bonnie and I had an impromptu sleepover at Caroline's house! Her mom, by the way, is the sweetest!" Rosalie chuckled and sipped her smoothie. "She's a cop! The sheriff! I love that women today get to hold jobs like that! A sheriff!" She laughed all over again.

Damon's nose crinkled. "You're not drunk—"

Rosalie agreed with him and raised her smoothie to make the point. "Totally not!"

"—which means you're just naturally like this…" Damon thought it might actually be worse than having her be drunk.

Rosalie deadpanned him for his words. "Anyways, I stayed at Caroline's and I didn't have any clothes because I still need to shop so she let me borrow some of hers and while the dress is fine, I don't think this jacket was hers because it looks way too big for her!"

"Yeah, okay, cool it now," Damon raised a hand to stop her before she talked his ears off. "We need to switch gears. How are you at locator spells?" He turned to head up the stairs.

"Locator spells?" Rosalie repeated, her excitement slowly waning. "Why…why would you need that from me?" She hurried to catch up with him upstairs.

"Trouble!" was all Damon said until he strode into Stefan's room. The latter was in the middle of putting some clothes away.

"Where the hell have you been?" Stefan said the moment he felt Damon's presence.

"Yeah, and why are you all bloody?" Rosalie said with a crinkled nose.

"Aw, you know, being held against my will, shot in the head, now I can't find Elena," said Damon dismissively, "How was your evening? Anything out of the ordinary happen?"

"Wait a minute, what do you mean you can't find Elena?" Stefan said, tossing a jacket on his bed. Behind Damon, Rosalie was questioning the same thing.

"I mean, she's not picking up her phone, she's not in her dorm, she's nowhere in this house, which leads me to believe that Dr. Creepy Ken-doll has her somewhere," Damon said, once again leaving his audience very confused.

"What's a Ken-doll?" Rosalie tilted her head.

"Are you talking about the Whitmore bio teacher?" asked Stefan.

"Yeah, the one that operated on vampires during business hours, yeah, that one. Put your hero hair on, Stefan. Let's go get Elena!" Damon rounded on Rosalie abruptly and once again asked for the locator spell.

"I-I don't…I can't do one, Damon," she said just as he had started towards the door for one of Elena's things.

"Excuse me?" He looked back at her in disbelief.

Say something quick before he snaps your head off! Rosalie gulped. "I'm…I'm rusty at that stuff…"

"Rusty?" Damon said incredulously and exchanged glances with his brother. Even Stefan found the excuse rather strange. "Hear that Stefan, we got stuck with the rusty witch. I'm sorry, weren't you the creator of the Other Side? This should be easy-peasy for you."

"I'm, uh, having some trouble alright?" Rosalie pursed her lips nervously.

Unlike Damon who immediately scoffed, Stefan walked over to the witch in concern. "Rose, is everything okay?"

Rosalie felt awful for lying, especially to Stefan who'd been the kindest to her out of everyone in the group. She just wasn't ready to tell them the little peculiar flaw with her magic. "I am," she promised, "it's just after Qetsiyah's death, I'm having a hard time, uh, using my magic. Rusty, you know?"

"Well, Rosie-kins, you better un-rustify yourself and figure it out because if my idea goes south, you will be performing a locator spell one way or another," Damon warned the witch and continued his way out of the room.

"Don't worry," Stefan told her as they went to follow Damon.

"I'll be more worried if we can't find Elena," she said. "Damon, any chance I could be caught up on this matter before you drag me into it? I don't mean to be a downer but I would like to remind you that I just came back to life."

"Sure," Damon flashed her a grin from downstairs, "on the ride there. Let's go!"

"Damon, you just said you don't know where Elena is," said Stefan, "Where are we going?"

"I don't know where Elena is, which means we're gonna have to find us some leverage since the only witch with magic we know of" — Damon shot Rosalie an accusing glance — "is apparently unavailable. We'll be doing this the old fashion way so come on!"

~ 0 ~

Rosalie had not been to Whitmore College except for the evening of the costume party and even that had been a one-building kind of visit…and in the dark. Now here she was in broad daylight in the middle of a large campus filled with students. Everything seemed so much bigger!

Students were walking past them from both ends. There were others studying or relaxing on the lawn and at tables. Her favorite thing were the different clubs that day — sororities, sports, community helpers!

"Could you please not walk like a damn deer with those bigass eyes of yours?" Damon called from up ahead. Rosalie was walking a significant distance behind them, her dark eyes wide as her head flipped in every direction taking in the sights. "We're trying to be subtle here!"

Rosalie scoffed at him and picked up her pace. "You being subtle is something I would pay to see! It's just all new to me! Everything is brand new to me!"

"Yeah, we get it," Damon said and continued leading the way.

"I've never been to school—"

"We get it," Damon insisted.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and finally caught up to him and Stefan. "So you want to tell me why this great big school is filled with evil professors? Don't recall that being the norm…"

"Just the way the world works," Stefan said with a nonchalant shrug. "Or, I guess, how our world works. So stay close, please."

"I'm not a vampire," Rosalie reminded him.

"Exactly, so you're more expendable than we are," Damon smirked at her and picked up his pace.

Rosalie glared after him. "You know, Stefan, everyday I like your brother less and less."

Stefan nodded. "I know what you mean."

Damon led them into one of the dorm buildings and pointed out their target: a young man by the name of Aaron sitting on a couch with headphones on. He was so focused writing in his notebook that he never noticed Damon plopping down next to him until Damon ripped one of his earphones out.

"Pop quiz," Damon started ever so casually, "so your girlfriend's taken by a mad scientist. Now, do you: A, get a new girlfriend; B, call the police; or C, kill someone close to the mad scientist?"

Aaron was more than frightened and quickly got up to run, only as soon as he made the turn he crashed into Stefan.

"Sit," Stefan ordered him and Damon patted the empty spot on the couch for him to return.

"Wow, talk about a warm greeting," Rosalie mumbled as she came to sit on the couch chair. She sized up Aaron and wondered how the hell this guy could have possibly done to warrant such a hostile interaction.

"Zip it newbie," Damom said while death glaring at Aaron. "Where's Elena?"

"I-I have no idea where Wes took her," Aaron swore, still very much frightened.

"Well, they're not at his lab, so where else could he hide a vampire?" asked Stefan.

Aaron was frantic as he kept looking between the brothers then Rosalie. "I'm sorry. Am I supposed to know who you two are?"

"That's my brother Stefan," Damon was happy to introduce, "but I'd watch your tone with him because he's kind of in the midst of a psychotic break."

Rosalie snorted. "Seriously?"

"And that's Rosalie, we don't really know if we like her yet."

Once again, Rosalie deadpanned Damon.

"Alright, alright, enough with the jokes," Stefan reprimanded Damom but the latter scoffed.

"Oh, I was being dead serious, little brother. You don't think I know about you and Katherine?"

Rosalie's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Stefan barely contained his snap. "Oh, I see. You're jealous."

"More like disturbed," Damon corrected. "See?" He side-glanced Aaron. "He's off his rocker, he's losing his mind, teetering on the brink of insanity."

Aaron's mind was spinning with so much information but he settled on the one thing that was the most shocking to him at the moment. "How are you not dead? I shot you."

Damon grinned as he looked around before answering him. "Well, because you went for the head. You got to go for the heart." He smacked the back of Aaron's head. "Go for the heart next time. Now, where's Elena?"

"I have no idea! All that Wes told me was to go about my life as usual."

"And that didn't spark any kind of suspicion for you?" Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "You gave up your friend…willingly…and you never thought to ask where exactly you were sending her to? Yeah, you're not sounding very smart right now…"

"The first thing you say that I can agree with, Rosie!" Damon pointed back at her then set his sights on Aaron again. "We're gonna call Wes, and you're gonna tell him that if he doesn't give us Elena the next experiment that he conducts it's gonna be sewing your arms back on," he lightly whacked Aaron's arm. "Get calling."

Aaron didn't have much of a choice but to comply. He took his cell phone out and dialed Wes, getting straight to the point as soon as the call was picked up. "Do you have Elena?"

Although he didn't put the call on speakerphone, Stefan and Damon heard perfectly. Rosalie, however, was left at a disadvantage trying to piece in the conversation.

"Uh, Stefan and Damon Salvatore are gonna kill me unless you give them Elena…" Aaron's gaze was glued on the seemingly calm Damon who was just waiting to fulfill his threat. "...or he's in front of me imagining what my kidney would taste like."

Rosalie grimaced.

Aaron ended the call a moment later. "He says to—"

"We heard," Damon stood up from the couch.

"Uh, hello, I didn't?" Rosalie said, following in suit. "Where are we going now?"

"To your first college class," Damon grinned dramatically, "Fair warning, you get docked points for being late so let's go. Oh, and only losers sit in the front row."

"What?" Rosalie turned to Stefan for help. She felt much more clueless than usual and she knew that Damon was getting a kick out of it.

"C'mon," Stefan motioned her to walk with him. "Ignore him."

"Trust me, I'm trying here!" Rosalie muttered. They headed back outside with Aaron leading the way to Wes' classroom.

"You want to give us a little backstory as to how you know one another?" Stefan asked his brother. The hostility between Damon and Aaron was just too much.

"Aaron is Aaron Whitmore, and he comes from a very long line of vampire-probing, blood-testing, organ-removing freaks called Augustine," Damon was happy to explain, throwing glares at Aaron as he spoke.

"And why do you know this?" Steve asked, finding it odd as it didn't sound like something Damon would ever be interested in. However, the answer he received shocked him even more.

"Because I was their test subject in the '50s."

"What do you mean test subject?"

"Meaning I donated my body to science except I was alive and it was against my will."

"Oh my god, you were experimented on?" Rosalie was horrified and for a second she almost forgave Damon for being such an ass. Almost. "Is that why you're such a jerk because they messed up your brain beyond belief?"

Damon rolled his eyes at her. "Funny. I might give you a point for that one."

"Hold on a minute," Stefan came to a slow stop in the middle of the sidewalk, "How do I not know about this?"

'Don't get all guilt-ridden, Stefan, on me. We were on the outs back then, and by the time it was over, you know, it was over…" Damon started to walk away, until Aaron called out to him.

"Why don't you finish the rest of the story, Damon?"

"I don't recall saying that you could talk," Stefan gave Aaron a sharp look, "Did I say that he could talk?"

Damon played along and shrugged. "I don't remember anything."

"I didn't think so."

Rosalie looked between the brothers and shook her head. "Now I can see how you two are related. And on some level, I'm relieved because I was beginning to wonder if one of you was actually adopted. Can we please just go to class now?"

"Okay, you know you're not actually going to a college class right?" Damon raised an eyebrow at her.

"I can pretend," Rosalie retorted. "And let's be honest, between you two's brooding and evil faces," she gestured between the brothers, "I'm probably the only one that can actually slip in undetected."

"With what magic?" sneered Damon who took off right after.

"Whatever it is, it's definitely more magic than you have, Damon!"

Stefan sighed wearily and grabbed Aaron's arm to follow after the two. Rosalie and Damon spent the whole walk to the classroom bickering.

"I'm starting to see why Caroline doesn't fully approve of you," Rosalie spat on their way in the hallway. "Because, oh yeah, she talked about you a lot last night!"

Instead of being offended like Rosalie had intended, Damon snorted. "So you spent your entire evening talking about me? I'm honored."

"Would you two just knock it off already?" Stefan reprimanded them from behind. "Which classroom is it already?" He asked from Aaron. The latter was walking right in front of them searching for the classroom number.

"This one," he stopped and pointed to a door ahead of them.

Rosalie was the closest and therefore reached it first.

"Ah!" Damon smacked her hand off the door handle. "What if it's a trap, dummy?"

Rosalie scoffed and made a gesture to the empty hallway. "I don't suppose there's another evil professor in there waiting for us?"

"It could be a trap," Damon reiterated, although Rosalie suspected it was only to go against her.

"Fine," she whacked his hand away and grabbed the door handle, "then I'll make sure to point out who the vampire in this group is. As far as anyone knows, Stefan here is human."

Damon did not care for her long smile and fought the urge to shove her when they walked into the classroom.

"Oh, evil professor, where are youu?" Rosalie sing-sung, and no longer could Damon control himself. He gave her a hard push to the side.

21051!" Someone called and made the group realize there was a man sitting in the back of the classroom.

"Holy crap, I didn't think that would work…" Rosalie whispered to Stefan behind her.

Damon was frozen in his spot when the man started coming down the steps towards them. "Enzo?"

Stefan noticed the odd way in which his brother had quieted down and lost his grip.

'Enzo' stopped in front of them, more precisely in front of Damon. "It's been a while, mate."

"And who the hell are you?" Stefan cut in since it didn't seem like Damon was going to talk anytime soon.

"Lorenzo, but my friends call me Enzo. Ah. Kidding…" Enzo's sights seemed stuck on Damon for the moment. "I don't have any friends." He offered his hand to Stefan to shake but the latter eyed him up and down, unimpressed.

Rosalie looked at all of them and wished she had stayed longer at the sleepover with Caroline and Bonnie. Anything had to be better than this. "Alright, at the risk of getting myself some fangs — like poor Aaron over there — how about we just play nice…?" She extended her hand towards Enzo and introduced herself. "Rosalie."

Enzo grinned and took her hand but instead of just shaking it, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "Pleasure to meet you."

Rosalie flushed and before she could say anything, Damon leaned over and yanked her hand down. "We don't talk to strangers, Rosie."

Rosalie forgot all about her flush and glared at him. "I talk to you, don't I?"

"Oh, we're strangers now?" Enzo scoffed and nearly laughed in Damon's face.

"Fine," Damon said with a dramatic long sigh, "Enzo's another Augustine vampire. Our cells were next to each other. So, we're here to meet somebody — Wes Maxfield. You know him?"

Enzo seemed even more incredulous than before. "That's your first question for me? Not 'How are you? How'd you survive in that fire I left you to die in?'"

"Uh, does somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Aaron said, swallowing hard with fear.

"I second that," Rosalie raised her finger.

"I'd love to," Enzo said, stepping back and gesturing towards the seats behind them, "Have a seat. Been waiting seventy years to tell my story."

"Yeah, you know what, we don't really have time for a story…" Damon trailed off as Enzo let out a short laugh.

"Yeah, I don't think he was asking…" Rosalie drew in a breath, "Well, this might be the closest I'll get to a real college class, so…" She was the first one to start towards the seats.

"Ah, really Rosie? You pick now to be obedient?" Damon went right behind her, especially when Stefan threw him a warning look; he recognized the look as a 'you better watch her'. "Where was this when I told you a dozen times to shut up on the drive here?"

"Must have ignored you, which I'm beginning to feel like I'll have to do many times in the future…" Rosalie plopped down on an empty chair in the front row. She noticed Stefan quietly slipping out of the room with Aaron's phone. Aaron was none the wiser.

Enzo hopped onto the professor's desk and cleaned his throat to signal that it was his turn now. "Damon was right. We were cell mates in 1953. We'd been locked in those cells for years, tortured, beaten, humiliated, but we weren't gonna let them break us, no. We decided if we were going to escape, we needed to work together." He paused for a moment just to truly glare at Damon. "We needed each other."

The classroom door opened again and Stefan came in. "Wes isn't sending her," he told the others.

"Tragic," said Enzo dismissively, "Can I continue my story now, please?"

"Doesn't he know we have Aaron?" Damon said, confused. Even Aaron beside him was a little confused given that his life was on the line.

"He doesn't care. He's willing to risk it."

"What?" Aaron rose from his chair, incredulous. "Let me talk to him! He'll listen to me."

"Uuh, guys…" Rosalie's quiet call when unnoticed. She could tell Enzo was getting irritated with them. He hopped off the desk and went straight to the chairs.

"What part of "he doesn't care" are you not registering?" Damon was arguing with Aaron when Enzo ripped off one of the classroom chairs from the floor and threw it out the window.

A heavy silence followed after that as everyone stared at Enzo who was now pleased with their focus. "Where were we? Uh, ah, right. I was telling my story, and you were all politely listening. Huh?" He started heading back to the front of the classroom. "So we came up with a plan to finally escape. I gave Damon my blood ration for a whole year, leaving myself a tiny bit just so that I wouldn't dessicate, so he'd have the strength to escape and save me in the process."

"A whole year of that?" Rosalie cut in, glancing at Damon behind her chair. "I'm surprised you were that patient. There was nothing else you could do to escape that hellhole?"

"Everything was made to keep vampires in," he responded, "Nothing got out."

"So how did you get out?"

"I can answer that," Enzo said, drawing their attention again, "Our plan began perfectly, didn't it?" He sent a sour smile in Damon's direction: the latter remained silent. "Every year, Augustine held a little get together with other Augustine friends and Dr. Whitmore got to show what he'd found in his research."

"That would be you guys?" Rosalie looked between the two in question. "Like a circus show?"

"Pretty much," nodded Enzo. "We were put into cages like animals, weakened from vervain injections, starved. The day of the party, everything went according to plan. Damon got out, fed more and gained the strength he needed to then help me. And there I was waiting in the cage for him to release me, waiting for my friend, my cellmate, the only soul with whom I'd connected with in all those years of captivity…" Any trace of a smile vanished in the next moment as he told what actually ended up happening. "Then a fire starts, burns out of control, but Damon just can't get the damn cage open."

Damon could feel his brother's gaze on him the more Enzo went on.

"…he looks me in the eye as if he doesn't even recognize me, turns around, saves himself, leaving me to die."

"Wow, that is horrible," Rosalie blurted and looked at Damon, "You are horrible."

Damon did his best not to let the shame become too evident on his face. "This coming from the woman who practically dessicated a human for 2000 years!"

"Ah! That's — it wasn't — " Rosalie splattered, flushing. "Amara had it coming for lying to everyone and it wasn't just her, okay. We got her and Silas! Neither one was very innocent."

"Cut it out you two," Stefan interrupted them, even more annoyed with Enzo as the latter seemed to take amusement in what he caused. "Clearly you didn't die," he told Enzo, implying it was high time to get over it.

Enzo smiled wryly in his direction. "No. Unfortunately I lived. I was spared by one of the scientists so I could spend another fifty years on a table being opened and closed. Happy ending, right?" He slid off the desk now that he was done with his story. "Now that we've all been acquainted, I'm gonna find something to wet my whistle."

"What's—?" Rosalie barely started to ask when Damon politely told her to shut up.

"You didn't tell us about him," Stefan remarked, drawing Damon's annoyance.

"It was the 1950s. I'm supposed to remember every moment of my life? Do you want to kill Aaron, or should I?"

"Woah! We are not going to kill him!" Rosalie exclaimed, getting up from her seat. Aaron jumped from his and backtracked from the group. "Damon, I really think you should deal with that guy instead," she pointed behind her where Enzo had left. "Because if you really shared the cell with him for 5 years, I know damn well you have to be fazed at least a little bit."

Damon ignored them both and turned to Aaron. "All good then, I will do it!"

Aaron backtracked even faster from them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, hold on, hold on!" He nearly tripped in the aisle of chairs and held onto the back of another chair. "Wes gave me a bunch of files on my family history. They're in my dorm, okay? Maybe there's something in there you need, a name, I mean, another lab."

"Hm, that's a timely revelation," Damon remarked and this time both Rosalie and Stefan agreed with him.

"Yeah. Well, you know, he's not gonna help me, why should I help him?" Aaron retorted and straightened himself up but the moment he did, Damon was on him.

"I don't like you, I don't like your family, I don't like you messing up my relationship!" Damon backtracked him down the row of chairs. "If you're lying, I'm gonna take my thumbs, and I'm gonna gouge out your sad little eyes out of your sad little head!"

"Ah. It's frightening what you can find on campus these days…" Enzo said as he walked back into the classroom holding a bottle of alcohol.

"Ooh, you meant to get a drink…" Rosalie nodded to herself and made a mental note of the new saying. She was terribly behind on the slang. "Sorry, I just recently came back to life 4 months ago and I'm trying to learn as many metaphors as I can. It's not easy." Enzo gave her a strange, yet bemused glance.

"Okay, well we're gonna go with plan B," Stefan announced, "Let's go." He pointed Aaron to lead the way, under threat of course.

"Damon's not," called Enzo. He was pouring himself a drink at the desk. "Damon's staying right here. He knows all my secrets, so he knows how ornery I can get when I don't get my way."

Damon pressed his lips together and decided it was for the best if he humored his old pal. "Call me if you find anything, kill him if you don't."

"Well if you kill him, then we're really not gonna get anywhere," Rosalie said, letting out a tired sigh. Aaron seemed just as lost as they were, maybe even more. "Wouldn't happen to know where we could find Elena Gilbert could you? Kind of tall, brunette, really nice eyes?" She had her best kind smile plastered on her face when Enzo looked her way.

"Nice try," he pointed at her with his drink, "But 1) I don't care about Elena Gilbert, 2) I don't even know where she is anymore — or do I? — and 3) I don't care." He saluted everyone with his glass and drank again.

"Rosalie, let's just go," Stefan said, eyes glued on Aaron as the human scurried around Damon to get out.

"Actually, I think I'll stay," Rosalie announced, crossing her arms and glancing back at Damon.

"Talk about horrible ideas," he said with a frown. "Do you want to be sent back to the Other Side already? I'm sure Silas would love to give you a welcome back."

Rosalie deadpanned him for a moment before speaking to Stefan again. "I may not be at my best with my magic but I think Damon's gonna need the assistance if his friend over there—"

"That's a very loose label, love," Enzo made sure to call out before taking a drink from his glass.

"—decides to kick his ass for leaving him behind." Rosalie waited for about half a minute before looking over at Damon again. "Which, let's be honest, you would totally deserve."

"Who's side are you on!?" Damon groaned.

"His!" Rosalie pointed a thumb at Enzo. "You were a horrible cellmate! At least when Qetsiyah stabbed me, she still helped me in the end."

"Oh, wow, the standards are really high there, Rose," Damon said sarcastically, "You want to help? Get the damn locator spell going already!"

"I guarantee you that no spell is going to let you find Elena before Wes really gets into her," Enzo said, flashing Damon a smirk.

"Go, Stefan!" Rosalie ushered him towards the door. "I'll be fine!"

For fear of what Enzo said, Stefan decided to grab Aaron and leave. He did, however, give Damon another 'watch her' kind of look before making it out.

Rosalie heard the door close behind them and then looked between the two vampires left in the room. The awkwardness and tension was off the roof. "So…exactly what kind of classroom is this anyways?"

Damon couldn't take it and walked away from her. "Oh, just get out already!"

Rosalie rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt her.

"Now then, Damon, don't be so rude," Enzo set his glass down on the desk. "Did your years of freedom really not teach you how to readjust into the world? I wouldn't know, right…"

"He's just pissed because everything that could go wrong today is," Rosalie said, leaning back on the desk of a chair. "Elena's gone, his girlfriend—"

"Oh, he knows, Rosalie!" exclaimed Damon. "Because I'm sure he's already met her!"

"I have," Enzo was happy to confirm. He poured more alcohol into the glass then held it out specifically to Rosalie. "I won't bite."

"You promise?" Rosalie smiled dryly at his joke. "I don't drink, actually, I much prefer those iced coffees they sell now. They're delicious! Back in my time, coffee didn't even exist."

"Really?" Enzo mused over her words. "Where exactly are you from again?" He saw Damon pulling a leg over the chair that would lead to the front row Rosalie was standing by. "C'mon mate, just making some chit chat here, no need to get nervous."

"Yeah, well, for some reason my brother likes her so…you know…gotta make sure you don't eat her." Damon was now standing beside Rosalie, ignoring the woman's flat look on him.

"Oh, I have my plans set for someone else," Enzo said, looking directly at Damon and took a big swig of his glass.

"Would it really kill you to just apologize?" Rosalie whispered-hissed to Damon. She was beginning to think this was all just a long distraction until Enzo got the jump on them.

"Stay out of it, Rosie," Damon said then spoke to Enzo, "What do you want, huh? You want me to feel guilty? I couldn't save you. Now, where's Elena?"

Enzo seemed like he had something to say but instead he began to grunt in pain. Even the drink he had taken was stuck in his throat as he coughed and leaned on the table for support.

"Wasn't me!" Rosalie raised her hands in front of her, alarmed.

"What's wrong with you?" Damon asked him, confused.

"Wes injected me with poison that will stop my heart," Enzo managed to explain. He was trying to push through the pain in his chest. "I'll desiccate if I don't return for the antidote."

"All the more reason to tell me where he is!" Damon exclaimed. "Look. You get the antidote, I'll save my girlfriend, we'll kill Wes together!" But Enzo basically ignored the proposition.

"Did you even think about it after you left, the experiments, the cell, or did you just go out and live your merry life to its fullest?" Once he was strong enough again, he walked towards Damon.

Damon, in turn, subtly pushed Rosalie to the side just as Enzo came to face him. "Look at me. If you go back, we go back together. We finish this for good. Come on." He offered his hand to Enzo to seal the deal.

Enzo took it but instead of shaking on it, he used his grip to pull Damon closer to him. "You're not gonna see your girl again, Damon" — Rosalie winced as she heard Damon's bones crack — "because I want the antidote, and Wes told me not to come back until you were dead." Enzo then grabbed Damon's neck with his other hand and threw him out the window.

Rosalie's eyes widened, her hands clapping to her mouth.

"I would stay right where you are, sweetheart," Enzo warned her before jumping out the window himself.

"…like hell…" Rosalie mumbled and dashed out of the classroom. If Enzo really did plan on killing Damon, she would have to suck it up and use her magic to help.

The only problem was making her way out of the building. If she hadn't been arguing with Damon so much, maybe she would've remembered what hallways they used to get back downstairs. She finally ran out the entrance doors and looked for the two vampires. How nobody noticed such a crash — Damon had landed on a car and totaled it — was beyond her. The new world was just so clueless.

She found Damon and Enzo not too far from the entrance fighting with each other. Of course when she grew closer, she saw it was really more of a one-sided fight as Enzo kept punching Damon across the face and the latter was just letting it happen.

He does feel guilty, Rosalie concluded. Well, it meant that somewhere in there, Damon did have a heart.

"Enzo, look at me!" she heard Damon yell and realized Enzo had stopped fighting. Gray veins were running up his arms.

"Bloody poison!" Enzo grunted as he fell to his knees, Damon still holding him.

"Where is he? Where's Elena? Tell me where she is!" Damon said desperately as the veins crept up Enzo's face.

"Or what?! You never see her again? It might be good for you to know what it's like to miss someone for the next sixty years!"

"Enzo, look at me. Hey! Enzo! Where is she? Where is she!?"

But Enzo desiccated completely before he said another word.

Damon groaned, frustrated, and looked over at Rosalie running up to them. "Fix him!" he ordered her.

"But I—"

"Rosalie, fucking fix him!"

"I can't!" Rosalie exclaimed.

"WHY NOT!?"

"Because he's not poisoned with magic!" Rosalie argued. "This is science and I don't know a thing about that! He needs the antidote that Wes guy has!"

"The lab…" Damon said suddenly.

"What?"

"Wes had another lab here!"

"What, on campus?"

"No, at Disneyland — yes here!"

"What's Disneyland?"

Damon couldn't possibly glare harder at Rosalie. His eye nearly twitched. Stefan owed him big time for leaving her with him.

~ 0 ~

Rosalie was sentenced to wait outside the lab for her safety and for Damon's sanity. Even if he didn't believe her, she was sorry for being so clueless…and useless.

She sat at the bottom of the staircase talking to Caroline and Bonnie through the three-way that Caroline showed her last night. "Maybe I'm just more of a load than I thought. And a useless load at that," Rosalie said after recounting the day to the girls.

"Nu-uh!" snapped Caroline. "You are forbidden to feel like that, especially because of Damon Salvatore of all people. Now that guy seriously has no business saying anything!"

"Caroline, calm down," Bonnie said, "It's not actually about Damon, if you haven't noticed. Rosalie's just feeling the pressure of adjusting to the new world. But Rose, it's literally only day two. You have to take it slowly."

Rosalie sighed. "That's easier said than done. On the Other Side, all I did was just watch. I watched the world go by but never learned how to go along with it. Now I'm actually in this world and I have no idea what to do."

"It's fine. Stefan found Elena and she's safe," reminded Bonnie. "Now you have to go home and rest too."

"Hm, you know, after being dead for 2000 years, I'm not all that sleepy. Besides, Katherine is staying over and she sort of doesn't like me…"

Both Caroline and Bonnie scoffed at that.

"She's lucky she got to stay there," Caroline huffed. "But don't worry, none of us like her either. See? You're fitting in perfectly already."

"Yeah, I think that's probably about the only thing Damon and I can agree on…"

"Rosalie, you can come stay with us in our dorm if you want," Bonnie offered. "We only have 3 beds but we can work something out!"

Rosalie thanked them for the offer but she felt like she shouldn't ruin their sleep just because of her existential crisis. "It's fine. I'll be fine. I'm not going to let 2000 years get me down, you know? I have to figure this world out on my own."

"Yeah, but you're definitely not alone," Caroline said.

"I know, and I thank you guys for it. I just meant that I have to learn about the world. I'm not dead anymore, Qetsiyah isn't here anymore, so…I have to figure it out." A noise upstairs startled her and her first instinct was to hang up and rush up the stairs. She was only halfway up when Enzo was coming down, but she still froze nervously.

"No need to worry, he's alive," Enzo all but muttered with disdain. "Not that he ever cared if I wasn't…"

Rosalie stayed in her spot while he walked around her, still muttering to himself. She recognized the ire with which he spoke and sympathized. "You know, for all the teasing I did, I think he really does feel guilty about what he did," she turned on the step and looked down where Enzo had stopped, "But, you know, you are right to be mad."

"What?" He said, mildly interested in her point.

"I meant that…that you're right to be mad — you have a right to be mad.." Rosalie cleared her throat, trying to ease her nerves as Enzo turned completely around. "I think this is a very good example that humans can be just as monstrous as what they believe vampires are."

"Well, as far as humans go, I think Augustine is about the most inhumane a human could get," Enzo said.

"I'm sorry," Rosalie said and wished there was more that could be done for his sake. "I can't imagine what that must have been like…"

"To give you a bit of an idea, it makes you feel like you're less than any living creature. I couldn't even hang onto the most basic thing of mine which was my name. I was a number to them," he said, jaw clenched with rightful anger, "12144."

"I'm sorry, I'm very sorry…"

He felt her honesty from his spot and gave her an acknowledging nod. At least she tried, unlike everyone else.

"If you're accepting advice, please take mine. I have some experience in the matter of being put away somewhere — The Other Side. That's the supernatural purgatory for all of, er, us non-humans. But recently, I was freed so…that anger you feel about being imprisoned against your will, yeah I get that. I didn't exactly die of natural causes, someone killed me, and trust me, I had a lot of time to stew in my own anger. I was furious about everything and with everyone but I promise you that it doesn't last forever."

"So what exactly did you do to get over it?" Enzo asked. "Because I doubt you woke up one day and decided to get past it."

"I didn't," agreed Rosalie. "But Time is literally all you have on the Other Side. You can't feel or be seen or heard in that place so I just watched. I watched the world go by, the people…And then with time, I stopped being angry."

Until I was brought back from the dead to finish a revenge plot. He didn't need to know that. In fact, she suspected he had not heard anyone speak to him kindly and about his feelings. He didn't need to hear her whole story, just the parts that would validate his situation.

"So yeah, I just…I just wanted you to know that you're right to be mad and that it's not right that no one understands that but also…don't waste time being angry. Trust me, this new world is so nice…lots of things to try." Her smile then was very genuine as she thought of the things she got to do lately. Sleepovers and random smoothies were just the beginning of her new reality.

"Hm…" Enzo seemed to ponder for a moment, a moment that lasted long enough for Rosalie to panic thinking she'd earned his ire as well. "So in this new world, what would you recommend I try first?"

Rosalie was pleasantly surprised with the response. "Um…the food!" she exclaimed. "Definitely the food! It's way better than what it used to be! The desserts are to die for—"

"Rosalie!" Damon shouted from upstairs, no doubt having heard her yapping on.

Rosalie sighed. "And that would be my ride calling. I know that I'm no one to you but just try and listen to what I said, okay? Take care." She waved at Enzo and finished her way up the stairs. By the time she looked down, he was already gone.

~0~

The ride back to the boarding house was surprisingly quiet and Rosalie honestly didn't feel like pushing Damon's buttons anymore. Today was probably enough for him.

She saw Elena in the living room almost as soon as they stepped in and hurried to see her. "Thank goodness you're okay!"

Elena hugged her back and thanked her. "These aren't your clothes…"

Rosalie flushed and told her that they were Caroline's. "We had a sleepover yesterday…"

"Okay," chuckled Elena, "we are definitely going shopping tomorrow. Promise."

"It's okay," Rosalie said and backtracked. She noticed that Damon wasn't exactly the joyful boyfriend he should have been seeing that his girlfriend was free and okay. "Have a goodnight." She rushed up the stairs, getting the feeling that things were going to get very awkward.

She crossed the hallway intending on heading straight to her bedroom when Stefan called her, albeit in his usual quiet voice. He stood beside his bedroom doorway when she turned around.

"Uh oh, why do I get the feeling I'm in trouble?" She could read on his face that something was on his mind.

"How was the rest of your day?" he asked her instead.

"Umm…good…" She replied, bringing her arms behind her back, "I mean, Damon has some manner issues but nothing significant. I actually think I should apologize for being so hard on him today…"

"Mm…and that was it?" Stefan asked, now eyeing her as if looking for something. It took Rosalie a few seconds to realize he was trying to make sure she wasn't hurt.

"Nobody harmed me, Stefan," she assured him.

"I know Damon wouldn't, but his cellmate on the other hand…"

"Enzo wasn't looking to kill us, Stefan, he was angry and hurt," Rosalie walked up to him, "And truthfully, after what Damon did, I'd be mad too. I mean, you were mad at him for leaving you in that safe in the quarry for four months. Damon left Enzo for dead. You heard him — Damon left him in a cage to burn alive and because of that, he spent the next 60 years being continuously tortured. That is grounds for a justifiable argument, don't you think?"

Stefan looked away but the corners of his mouth were curling upwards. "That's one way to think about it…" He met her gaze and his smile became full-fledged upon seeing her nervous face. "And around here, we all pretty much think the same way."

"So is this good or bad?" Rosalie tilted her head, her hair swishing with her. "Because Damon wasn't too happy with me."

"Yeah, well Damon's hardly happy with anyone who isn't Elena. I wouldn't pay much attention to that."

Rosalie chuckled lightly. "Got it. I'm okay, Stefan, promise. There's no scratch on me."

Stefan smiled at her. "Good. But next time, let's try not to stick around the spot where the fight is gonna break out, okay?"

"Okay," Rosalie nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight." She left him to go to her room, hoping to rest but neither she nor Stefan knew that a few hours later, they would both be woken up by a loud rumble on the stairs.

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