𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 ✯ steve harrington¹

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍 : prove it

WORD COUNT : 3.1k

Owen had been standing in front of the mirror in her room much longer than she ever had. She had tugged and twisted the black dress every which way, just trying to make it look even a little acceptable. Owen didn't own many dresses that would be suitable for a funeral, much less one that would be suitable for a funeral. So, she had found one of their mother's dresses that was tucked away in a box in the back of a closet. Unfortunately, the dress stopped around the ankle and hung in that unflattering, shapeless way that all dresses did back in the 70s. But it had to work. It was all she had. Finally giving up and concluding that the dress was a lost cause, Owen stepped away from the mirror and looked through her closet for a pair of shoes to wear.

"Gordon said you've gotta get your ass in the car or we'll all be late," Law announced, standing in the doorway to his sister's room. Owen knew that those had to have been Gordon's exact words, making her roll her eyes despite having her head stuck in the closet.

"Yeah well, tell Gordon to come in here and find a pair of shoes for me to wear, then," she quipped, making a mental note to organize her closet at some point. Owen heard Law's footsteps retreating from her room, likely on his way to wait for her in the car too.

Finally, her eyes landed on a pair of black flats that had been tossed towards the back. When the family had moved in a month ago, none of them were prioritizing funeral clothing, that's for sure. Owen slipped her feet into the shoes, noticing that they just barely fit. They were probably some shoes that she had picked out in middle school and never gotten rid of – thankfully. She took one final, unimpressed look in the mirror, releasing a deep sigh before grabbing the dark cardigan that was hanging off of her bed frame and heading out the door.

The passenger seat of Gordon's car was waiting for her when she walked out, doing her best to ignore the looks on her brothers' faces through the windshield. When Owen swung the door to the car open, she could hear both of the boys doing a terrible job at stifling their laughter. She slid into her seat with a grimace on her face, buckling herself in.

"Shut the hell up, would you? We're headed to a funeral. It's not exactly comedy hour," Owen grumbled, choosing to look out of her window rather than at either of the boys. But her point did nothing to stop the giggles resonating from the front and back of the car.

"Yeah, you're right. We're headed to a funeral. Not a middle school chorus concert," Gordon retorted, chuckling at his own joke. Owen delivering a solid whack to his chest quickly put an end to his laughter. Law's fist came to cover the upturned corners of his lips, just trying to make sure that Owen didn't reach back and smack him too.

✯

The bright, early morning sun was doing nothing to keep the funeral attendants warm. Owen's fingers were practically frozen around the single white rose in her hand, regretting not grabbing a pair of mittens or something on the way out the door. The entire group was huddled together around Will Byers' grave, listening attentively to the words of the pastor standing in front of them. However, Owen couldn't stop herself from peeking around at everyone who had showed up, curiosity getting the best of her.

As expected, Jonathan was sitting up front between who Owen could only assume were his mother and father. Jonathan's mom looked like she hadn't been processing this well at all, her eyes staring blankly at the casket in front of the group. Nancy was standing a few paces away with her family – including her younger brother, whom Owen had only heard about till then. He was standing next to two other boys who looked to be about the same age. Owen's heart clenched when she remembered Nancy mentioning that her younger brother was best friends with Jonathan's younger brother. If she had to guess, that whole group had probably been best friends with Will. Owen tore her eyes away from the group of boys, feeling horrible about them going through a loss like that at such a young age.