graveyard﹔ ( nancy wheeler )

basement.

Johnathan's car pulled into the driveway. Nancy and Brea hadn't seen each other since the day Nancy called Brea to come over, she missed her like crazy, but she understood that she couldn't always be around her. It was unhealthy to always hang around your significant other.

Nancy sprayed perfume onto her clothes, basking in the floral scent, before slipping her heels on, grabbing her keys, and walking out the door. She didn't want to be late, again. Tom Holloway always hates when they're late, not so much Johnathan, but Nancy. He always had something to say to her when she was late for her job, which was practically an internship working in a secretary position, and running around to get these full grown adult men their coffee and sandwiches.

She applied some makeup after pulling down the sun visor from the ceiling of the vehicle. In the mornings, she didn't have time to do any of her make up, only shower, dry her hair, and get dressed. Rarely did she have time for breakfast, especially on a day like today, which was booked to the brim.

Today was the day they had planned to visit Ms Driscoll again, to get any updates on the rabid rats story. Nancy believed in the story, putting all of her energy and work hours into getting this story into the paper, of course, there was no progress made yet, especially since she hadn't told Tom about the story.

It's not like she hadn't planned to tell him about the possibly ground breaking story. It was just that she never found an appropriate time to tell him. He was either slacking off with the rest of their male colleagues, or he was sitting in his office, wishing to be undisturbed. There was no in between.

There was another problem with the idea as well, what if he thought the story was bogus? What if he absolutely dismissed the idea of putting the rabid rats case into the news paper. She knew the chances were high, but she also knew that she would go on with developing the story whether he liked it, or not.

Johnathan parked in one of the parallel parking spots downtown. Nancy opened her door, getting out, and shut it as quickly as she opened it in the first place. Her feet moved quickly as she marched up to the entrance of the small building.

Nobody greeted each other. The interior of the building made each and every person who stepped into the small building miserable. The colour scheme was almost depressive, with its mood killing greys and browns. Nancy always counted down the hours to when she could go home and likely call Brea, despite barely seeing her as of recently.

She didn't know why, but she was scared to call her. It wasn't like they weren't dating or anything like that, but she was nervous that Brea just wouldn't want to talk to her. It was irrational, she knew that Brea loved her, but she still got nervous about the idea of calling her.

The sun started to set, as all of the colleagues started to pile out of the building. The only two left were Nancy and Johnathan. Johnathan was in the red room, developing photos for upcoming articles, while Nancy sat at the front desk, taking calls from whoever called, which was usually nobody.

Nancy took this down time to call Ms Driscoll, and see if today was still a good day to come around and visit, just check things out again and make sure things are still doing okay. Multiple calls later, and still no answer. Nancy assumed she was just waiting for Nancy and Johnathan, so once their shifts were officially over and they had clocked out for the day, they drove through the rain to the Driscoll residence.

Johnathan decided he would drop her off, still not thinking that this was necessarily a good idea. He had an awful feeling about this visit, something was telling him it would go completely wrong so quickly.

The rain picked up, coming down like crazy now as Johnathan dropped Nancy off at the side of the road, driving away in no time, leaving Nancy to stand on Ms Driscoll's porch in the rain, and wait for her to answer the door.

Nancy knocked, the door nudging open a small bit by the touch. Who in their right mind leaves their door open? Let alone unlocked, especially with everything that's happened in the past two years, from demogorgans to the mindflayer, nothing was unpredictable in Hawkins anymore.

She pushed the door open with her foot, once again, nobody was there. The home was empty, dark, cold even. Not a single light was on, leaving the house to be a hurricane blue colour. Everything looked to be how it was a few days before when Nancy and Johnathan first visited.

Nancy walked around the house, searching for the older woman. She was nowhere in sight. The last place she was going to check was the basement. She stepped onto the wooden stair case, the familiar feeling of them almost giving away beneath her coming back.

The steps creaked as she reached the third step, and there she saw Ms Driscoll on the ground, her face buried in what looked to be plant fertilizer. She looked up, a panicked look on her face upon seeing the girl. Her face was covered in the residue from the brown plant nourishment.

Nancy rushed up the stairs, making her way to the phone to call 911, or anybody who could help for that matter. Whether it be Hopper, an ambulance, the police force, anyone. Even Steve Harrington for fuck sakes. She didn't care who came, as long as they helped.

The phone rang, a sweet voice on the other line, asking what was wrong and how she could help. Once Nancy answered, the lady asked what her name was, and where she was, along with what first responder service she needed.

Sirens could be heard down the street, the flash of red white and blue could also be seen from the windows of Doris' home. They knocked on the door, Nancy answering quickly, and leading them to the basement, where Nancy had confiscated the plant fertilizer. They grabbed a stretcher from the ambulance, and placed Ms Driscoll on it.

Next thing Nancy knew, she was inside of an ambulance, knowing she would get scolded by Tom Holloway no later than tomorrow morning, because somehow he would've found out. Likely through the first responders, or maybe even Johnathan.