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atlascripts · 2 years

Text

Warnings: angst, torture, blood, death, hurt comfort

the stranger in the suede jacket

You were at your family home, packing stuff to move out. You didn't talk much when you came back to town you mostly kept to yourself, all your memories as of recent consisted of recuperating at the hospital under Dr Owen's care. Brenner had tried his best to see if he could have you remember anything of that fateful day but your mind had blocked it out. Everything before that felt like a distant memory, even his face was a blurry memory, though your feelings for him never betrayed you. They’d bloom to life at the faintest hints you could recall of him, of Peter. The angel in white with perfect blond hair and blue eyes, except you still couldn't make out the contours of his face and if you tried to remember past the bliss of knowing his existence, it would all become too much and your ears would ring as a migraine would creep up.

You folded the t-shirt in your hand neatly tucking it in the carton, though you were let off free from Brenner's contract and were sent home to live your life you still had a lot of healing to do. Even without the memories, your body seemed to be living in its constant aftermath. You didn't have anyone in Hawkins so moving out into the city seemed like a good plan. It had barely even been a year since you had returned home but you heard odd rumours around town. Rumours became true when a little kid called Will Byers went missing. You could feel the ominous air settle into Hawkins ever since that day and you wanted more than anything to leave as fast as you could.

Everything was neatly packed that night, the rest of the furniture was covered in simple white sheets. You were to leave by morning, it was your last night in this house. Everything felt bittersweet as you had supper by yourself but your moments of sweet nostalgia were interrupted by the anomaly that was prevalent in town these days. It was always around late night that the power fluctuated at your place. You didn’t know why but your body would react severely to such incidents, you’d stiffen up and ball your fists, almost so hard that you could feel the nails dig into your flesh, as you waited for it to pass.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

You had finally settled down in a small studio unit, it was very small actually but at least it was well maintained, and just around the block was the little cafe you had taken up a new job as a barista. Things seemed normal after a long time for the most part, except you still felt like you struggled to retain your memories, but you were getting by, saving up little by little. At least the sleep was comfortable, your new space was proving to be everything you needed after the entire ordeal.

Lately though at work you noticed something, something strange you couldn't put a finger on. In the bustling cafe in the morning hours when one could hardly lift their head to even observe, you somehow still noticed a customer at the far end corner. They always had their back to you, it was their suede jacket that seemed to pop out for you. But the moment you felt like you had actually noticed them, they'd disappear behind the crowd. It happened once in a while at first but later you were noticing the same suede jacket almost at every turn. What bothered you more was that these incidents didn't alarm you, this person felt like someone you knew, and you actually hoped to see them, hoped one day you could see their face. But just like that, it all stopped one day, you stopped seeing them and the yearning died a slow dull death in your heart, loneliness crept up again and you tried not to dwell on the sadness too much, an odd sadness of losing someone you didn't even know or see properly.

One night when you were in good spirits with the radio playing sweet melodies, you were leaning by the window, watching as the former drizzle had even further subsided but the wind was pleasantly chilly now. People went on about their evening and you had casually looked down at the street and you froze in your gaze. It was them, the person in the suede jacket looking up at you as if finally saying hi with their presence. You couldn't look away, his face was expressionless yet seemed to hold the same yearning you had. You may have blinked away for a second and they were gone. You looked around and waited by the window for a long time after that hoping they'd show up but they didn't. However the moment alone had left you dazed, you could fill the memories slowly now without causing too much strain, the contours of their face came alive, the angel you had remembered from your memories. Was it really him? you had asked yourself laying in bed staring at the ceiling.

In the later hours of the night when you were still awake for all the worse reasons, knowing well you'd regret it at work in the morning, the bell rang. For the first few seconds, you were nervous about getting the door. You put your little notebook down where you'd been writing your thoughts, but then when you looked at your notebook again something clicked in your head and you hurried to get it.

You stopped to take in a breath before turning the knob and it was like the final gaps in your memory of remembering his face had finally filled in. It was Peter, in that suede jacket with his blonde hair now messily grown out, it was always him. You stepped back a little to let him enter as he closed the door behind clicking its lock. He seemed to avoid your gaze for some reason before finally looking up at you, you reached out your hand to caress his face, to feel the warmth of his skin, the roughness of his slight stubble. He only watched as your eyes brimmed at the corners with tears and you embraced him, feeling his existence was like the comfort you had been looking for. Peter, however, was a little taken aback, his hands slowly reaching around to embrace you back but when the realization dawned on him that you truly didn't remember that fateful day, he tightened his embrace. A protective demeanour came over him and he buried his face in your hair, his conviction became firm, he had found you after all this time, no one was going to get in his way to mend what he broke years back, not even you.

79'

Power surged through the entire building at Hawkin's lab, the lights fluctuated strobing over the dead bodies lining up the hallways, bloodstains marked across every wall. Towards the end of it though, past the gates of the rainbow room, lay the final crime...

You cried in agonizing pain, pinned to the wall as you felt the pressure in every fibre of your being. Of being consumed, as if being robbed of your memories, your identity. Somehow it felt even slower, but you knew you were dying. Peter had killed almost anyone who had crossed his path, but a few managed to scurry away, they would have been at his mercy if it hadn't been for you. At what cost though, you were crying as you felt your eyes burn and you cried bloody tears. Peter's hand was raised up in your direction, his brows knitted and eyes closed as he lived through every moment of your life, feeling his now free powers amplify him until the memories dwindled into your later future. During your time at Hawkins lab, the microscopic aggression caused by Brenner, the policies that tied you here, being gaslighted into staying and amongst it all, your unrequited love for Peter.

It threw him off, it threw him off because he had despised you for the longest time here because he always noticed you ever since you were told to share duties with him, he hated how much you occupied his thoughts throughout his days, he hated his growing affection. And having not ever been through experiences of love of any kind, and with his conviction to rid the world of its meaningless charade. He hated that he may have fallen in love with you. But right now just the idea, the thought that you felt the same in this messed up unveiling of truth had him stumble in his process of literally killing you.

His hand balled into a fist as if to hold you in your place with his powers but your painful cries suddenly had him come back to the present time. It had played before his eyes the memory that felt so vivid, a memory of you. A memory of you two, when you were appointed to care for him after Brenner's mistreatment towards Peter. He was a little stiff in his posture as you had bandaged his wounded arm and hand. You had accidentally grazed over the deeper cut and Peter pulled his hand away immediately, he seemed displeased as you watched him just get up and walk away as if he was mad at you. But these memories were yours so he felt your emotions, the rejection, the unwanted feeling, the guilt of maybe hurting him all of it masked under your usual stoic face with that defeated posture as you put away the first aid supplies.

It was hitting him all at once the feeling of knowing you two were right there, in this dark place, feeling for each other but unable to communicate, like arms reached out but a tornado kept ripping at the seams of your silent love. More so Peter was unable to accept that he hated you so much only because he knew he had come to love you more than himself and he battled his wrath every day until it won. It won and here you were suffering a demise no one should ever suffer at the hands of their lover

But his wrath was also a part of him, he realized his demons too loved you and his hand slowly unclenched as you fell to the ground, he had spared you. But that scorching pain that you had felt, created ashes, and from those ashes formed a vortex that had initially erupted from your being, for when you collapsed the wall behind you had a rift. Twas a horrifying gateway with slithering vines that had ripped in the fabric of time.

The last bit of every ounce of humanity that Peter possessed had culminated at that moment and his eyes felt hazy as if this was so out of character and he was aware of it. His face had a blank expression as he knelt down before you to hold you in his arms and you struggled to breathe. Through choked sobs, you spoke but what you said, tattered what was left of his heart. He may have looked emotionless but he knew his soul cried that day after so long.

'Peter, help..'

That's it that's all you asked knowing well he had tried to kill you, you still asked him for help, hoping his mercy would extend.

He left you there though, he knew they'd come looking for him, your blurry vision watched him look back at you one last time before choosing to enter the abomination of a gateway that had created a rift in time and space. He was gone, leaving you there, hoping you'd live, hoping he had redeemed himself even a little if it were.

mood song: bloodstream by stateless

#jamie bower #peter ballard #henry creel #stranger things #peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #001 #suede jacket #mood song

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