Jailbird || Stranger Things

forty-four ➵ leg up

It sounded like the night. There were more noises, but—It was undoubtably Hawkins. There was a blue tint in the atmosphere, like it really was the night, and yet something said the hour was much closer to mid or late afternoon.

And Billy was still in the same spot, staring at an army of himself, as if no time had passed, though it felt like an eternity had.

Where the hell was he?

"I said, what do you want?!" he screamed, voice starting to become hoarse from the constant yelling as he fought to be heard over the red lighting in the black sky. What was this place?!

His copy approached him, slowly, taking its time, its steps purposeful and calm. Billy knew this feeling, the one where he wasn't in control. The one that told him he was in danger. "To build."

It had a deep, gravelly voice, one that sounded like it included thousands of different voices all pitched down. It made it all the more threatening, as if it also could have the power of that amount of men. "I want you to build."

"To build what?"

He stared back at it, attempting to refuse the reflex to take a step back, needing to see defiant. He remembered everything Reese had told him, about how to defend himself from his father, but somehow he could feel that this wouldn't be the same.

"What you see."

"I don't understand," he replied, his voice starting to waver as confusion set in. God, he'd never been this lost before.

With another clap of thunder, the figures disappeared, the blue tint to the world disappearing as he found himself on the road he'd crashed. Staring at the spot where the figures had just been, he shouted again, "I don't understand!"

He turned, spotting the phone booth by his car on his right, then turned around, a figure appearing far down the road.

"What do you mean? I don't understand!"

The figure moved, slowly approaching him. Its shape was different, steps less purposeful. It sped up, the movement becoming more familiar.

"Billy?"

His whole body froze. The temperature dropped, cold overtaking his body as the figure reached out, her hand cradling his face.

"Tess—"

"Do what he wants," her fragile voice whispered. "Please."

The moment her skin left his, he was back in the pool, disoriented, and overheating.

Burning up.

──────

"Shit, my dad's gonna kill me," Reese mumbled, zipping up her bag and picking up the cup of water from the side while Steve and Robin locked up.

"Blame it on Steve," Dustin shrugged, getting a scathing look in response. "You okay?" he turned back to her, noticing the way her arms tightened at some of the noises of the locks.

"What?" she glanced up, avoiding Steve's gaze. "I'm fine."

"It's when you first had your nightmares, isn't it?" Steve asked, letting Robin finish the job. "Like the anniversary effect."

She looked at him finally, her eyes softening as she realised he wasn't just worried, but he paid attention. He knew, all this time.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking away and down at the water bottle in her hand. "Something like that."