Apocalypse, Steve Harrington

Chapter Sixty-Nine. Message in a Bottle

SIXTY-NINE
— message in a bottle

DANNY USED TO WEAR A GOLD-CHAIN WITH A CROSS DANGLING FROM THE END.

Right before the divorce, and right after Sara died, Jim and Diane got into this huge, blow-out fight — he broke a plate, she threw out all of his alcohol, he screamed in her face, and she told him to leave and take his fucking kids with him. He and Lucy had a bunk-bed, at the time, and his sister was knocked-out cold on the top-bunk, her pink knitted blanket pulled up to her chin. He, though, was hunched over on the bottom-bunk with a tear-stained face and his sweaty hands clamped over his ears. He remembered the front-door slamming, and he remembered his own bedroom door opening just a crack, just enough so he could see his mother and the light from the kitchen. Worst of all, he would never forget the look on Diane's face when she realized he had been awake the entire fight. The literal horror that flooded her features, the way she remembered she had just told Jim to, "bring his fucking kids with him when he leaves". She wiped the warm tears off Danny's face and apologized for what she said, even though she wasn't really sorry. She meant it. Jim did take the kids whenever the divorce was finalized.

      The morning after, when she had cleaned up all the broken glass and stuffed most of her clothes into a singular duffle bag, Diane found an old golden necklace in a wooden-box beneath in the closet. It belonged to her late father, who had passed before she even met Jim and the kids, and holding it up kind-of put a pit in her stomach. She was raised Catholic, but hadn't practiced the religion in years, and the little cross dangling from the bottom of the shiny gold chain hit her chest with an immense amount of guilt. Danny peaked into the room, his long-ish hair curled around his ears, and he told her it was a pretty necklace. She gave it to him, right there, clasped it around his neck and told him to take real good care of it.

      Jim came back ten-minutes later, and he never saw Diane again. Only in a courtroom.

      He never took that chain off. Not when they moved to Hawkins, not when he had to make new friends, not on his first day of high-school, not ever. It kind-of became his lucky chain, which was really weird, because it was given to him on the day his mother left. He liked to mess with it when he was bored, he liked the way it swung below him when he ducked-down to grab something, he liked the way girls would stare at it when he took his shirt off. And it reminded him of his mom, obviously. Even if the divorce was messy and Diane never made an attempt to see the twins ever again, it was nice to have a piece of her with him. She was the woman who raised him, after all.

        When Danny was sixteen, he had sex with a really pretty girl in the bathroom during a house-party. Her name was Leah, and she had long black-hair that swayed all the way down to her hips. She had the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and cheekbones that made it look like someone was tugging her face upwards. Leah wore a bunch of rings and always had a baby-tee on, a pink or blue one with white-lined sleeves and a pair of high-rise jeans. The bathroom was humid and the fucking toilet-seat was open, and they were both too drunk to do anything right. He remembered fumbling with his belt buckle while she fumbled with the lock on the door. He remembered the way she kissed him like she couldn't breathe, and he remembered not even being able to see straight when his hands were in her hair.

      At some point, Leah got really into it, and she pulled him in closer by his chain. It broke, and he didn't even notice until she left him in there to clean himself up.