𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟔

616 37 65
                                    


┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞𝟏:𝟏𝟕 ———|———— 𝟏:𝟓𝟎♯ 𝐀 ♯ 𝟎𝟔𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 : ▮▮▮▮▯▯▯▯▯┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞
𝟏:𝟏𝟕 ———|———— 𝟏:𝟓𝟎
♯ 𝐀 ♯ 𝟎𝟔
𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 : ▮▮▮▮▯▯▯▯▯
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Thursday, Nov. 10, 1983.

THE SOUND OF soft snores eases Briggs back into awareness, eyes groggily blinking away the remnants of deep sleep and making room for the pale darkness of the world just before dawn. Stretched out on the couch, Corey rests with her head pillowed in her brother's lap, each breath coming out a little snuffle that he fully plans on teasing her for later.

Until he remembers why they fell asleep in the living room.

On the other end of the couch, Ma and Danny sleep curled into one another, Danny's arm wrapped around Ma and hand nestled in her loose hair.

The aftermath of an awful night, a mess of sobbing and shaking and the inconsolable reality of the fate of Will Byers.

Briggs couldn't find the words to comfort his sister, unable to do anything to piece her back together as his own heart caved in until all that remained was a frame in the shape of a middle school boy with a bowl cut and a shy disposition, a cold body in an old quarry, until it was just the reality of Will being dead and the girl who was an absolute mess in Briggs' arms.

Danny's phone call to the Wheelers confirmed it. That Will's body had been pulled out of Sattler Quarry, where he'd died alone and afraid with only stifling, cold water for company.

He couldn't find the words for anything at all, even as Ma and Danny wrapped him and Corey in warm embraces and murmured in their ears. He didn't give a fuck about Steve or Nancy or Carol or Tommy or Nicole or swimming or school or anything.

Briggs called Jon over and over and over to no avail. Corey sobbed. And for the first time in a long while, Briggs cried too. For Will. For Jon. For the horrible, devastating loss.

He called Mack, listened to the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, the realization. Neither of them could reach the Byers. Maybe the Byers didn't want to be reached.

So Briggs, Corey, and their parents clung to one another on that three-person couch, grounding themselves with the presence of each other, until tear-stained faces grew heavy with sleep and darkness replaced mourning, if only temporarily.

Now, Briggs slips a hand under Corey's head, tangling in her mess of deep brown hair, trying to shift the girl's body off of his to allow him to move from the couch. The clock on the kitchen wall announces ten after four in the morning. He'll still make it to practice.

He contemplates skipping. Actually, he contemplates skipping school altogether. He really doesn't think Ma would even blame him. But he has to do something with all this emotion and pent-up energy, something.

Radio Silence | Steve HarringtonWhere stories live. Discover now