𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

[Monday, September 9th, 1985. THEN.]

"You look like shit," Max stated as she climbed into the backseat of your car Monday morning, having already waited at the side of the road that led to the Forest Hills trailer park the Mayfields had moved to a month ago after Neil Hargrove had left in the wake of his son's death.

"Why, good morning to you, too," you quipped as you started the engine to get back on the road as Robin chimed up from the passenger seat, "That's what I said, as well. How much sleep did you get?"

"Five hours," you replied.

"That's not bad."

"Over the whole weekend," you added. A glimpse at Max through the rear-view mirror told you the redhead probably hadn't slept at all. The skin around her eyes was pale enough to see the blue pattern of veins underneath.

No matter how bad you'd been faring since Starcourt, since your friends had managed to burn the Mind Flayer out of your brains, Max had it worse. Your heart went out to her as she adjusted the headphones over her ears to drown out whatever thoughts and memories would haunt her as soon as she was alone with her mind.

It had been two months since Starcourt, and one month since the start of this odd carpool with talkative Robin and the new gloomy, silent version of Max. On the first day of the new school year, Robin and you had decided to pick the redhead up to spare her the bus ride and the additional moments of scrutiny and whispers that inadvertently followed her, now that she was the girl with the brother who'd died in the "mall fire". Picking her up in the mornings had become an unspoken agreement, just as it had become with Robin.

It was weird how it had taken possession on your side and a fight against a monster made of molten people to befriend Robin Buckley, the girl who'd lived in the same street as you ever since you could remember. She was growing on you. And she was growing on Nancy, as well. Shared trauma, as it turned out, didn't just make a great foundation for relationships, but friendships as well.

As you barrelled down the street with a roar of the old car's engine, your gaze briefly flitted towards the trailer opposite the Mayfield's, and your thoughts returned to the encounter in the woods Friday night.

To Eddie Munson, who wasn't callous or scary or threatening at all, but...kind.

As if on cue, Robin turned to you and asked, "By the way – where were you at the celebration after the game Friday night? Steve and I were looking for you but you were just gone."

If you told Robin about what Jason had tried to do, she'd be worried. She'd talk you into telling the police. And you really didn't want to answer any more questions.

The days and days of being cooped up in that stuffy police office that smelled of cheap coffee and stale sweat while Dr. Owens and his men had poked and prodded you with syringes and questions about these thirty hours with the Mind Flayer in your head while all you'd wanted to do was go home and cry...you couldn't do any more of this.

Despite, what would the cops do about Jason? Arrest him? Hopper would have been on your side. He would have found a way to make Jason face consequences. But Hopper was gone. And there never were consequences for guys like Jason Carver. You were simply glad Eddie that had intervened. Saved you, as cheesy as it sounded.

"I was tired, so I went home," you said. It wasn't exactly a lie. Just a little omission of the whole truth. "Wait – Steve was actually there? I thought he was joking when he said he'd come."

"He even brought a date," Robin replied, drawing out the word date with a roll of her eyes.

"Heidi or Lisa?"