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HAWKINS, INDIANA — 1986.
STEVE WAS WORRIED FOR THERESA.
After she had startled him the night before, waking him up with a bloodcurdling scream, Steve knew something was going on with her that she was not telling him.
Tess was still sound asleep when Steve woke up, arm draped over him and her face nuzzled into his chest. Steve laid there for a few more minutes, listening to her slow and steady breathing.
Finally, she came to, opening her eyes with a soft sigh. Steve looked down at her, an involuntary smile creeping onto his face.
"Good morning," he greeted, Theresa returning his smile.
"Hi," she mumbled, stifling a yawn.
Steve stretched his arms then settled them back around Tess. "How'd you sleep?"
She gave a small shrug. "Fine, I guess. I didn't have anymore nightmares."
He nodded, thinking for a moment.
"We have to go check in on Eddie today," Steve said at once, Theresa nodding.
"Yeah, I know we have to go see that little fucker," she grumbled, turning on her side to look at Steve. "I can't believe Chrissy Cunningham is dead."
Steve knit his brows, rubbing her arm as he replied, "I know. Whoever– or whatever– this Vecna dude is, I hope Dustin's wrong about it. Just this once."
Tess gave a small laugh. "Me too. I'm tired of fighting Demogorgons and Mind Flayers every other month."
He returned her laugh, Theresa trying to ignore the nauseating feeling in her stomach that she had had since she woke up. Now was not the time for morning sickness.
"Do you want some breakfast?" Steve offered, sitting up a little bit.
The thought of any kind of food only increased Tess's nausea. She tried to hold it in, but that was unfortunately only making it worse.
"Um..."
Theresa shot out of the bed, sprinting to Steve's bathroom and collapsing in front of the toilet to vomit. Steve, alarmed, got up and followed after her.
"Hey," he said softly, dropping to his knees and holding her hair back while she continued to puke. Tears stung her eyes from gagging, finally reaching for toilet paper to wipe her mouth.
