Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

People Are Strange

"People Are Strange"

People are strange

When you're a stranger

- The Doors

The hangar appeared mostly deserted when Joyce and Murray pulled up in front of it in their rental car. Deserted, and old, and in poor repair.

Well, what had she expected? Joyce asked herself. A disreputable place for a disreputable deal with a disreputable person. Whoever this Yuri was, he'd damned well better be ready to go and get Hopper. She was in no mood to be played with.

They stopped in front of a plane and got out of the car. It was cold out—colder than Joyce remembered winter being—and snow was falling.

Murray leaned over to her. "If things go sideways, I should mention I'm now a black belt in karate." He walked ahead of her into the hangar, shouting "Hello?" His voice echoed back at him from the cavernous space.

"Hello?" Joyce repeated, following him.

They stood there calling out until they heard noises from behind them. The whine of something being welded. Joyce dimly remembered it from her childhood. Her father had been good with tools, always tinkering at something in the shed.

She and Murray turned to look at the plane parked outside the hangar. The sounds had come from inside it. As they watched, someone appeared in the doorway wearing a welding helmet. He pushed it up, frowning at them. "Who are you?"

"I ... uh ..." What the hell was she doing here? It felt like some kind of a dream. "We're looking for Yuri."

"Why do you need to see Yuri?" the man demanded.

Joyce and Murray looked at each other. "It's actually ... uh ... uh ..."

Seeing that Murray wasn't going to be able to come up with anything, Joyce cut him off. "It's a private matter. Is Yuri here?"

The man took the welding helmet off. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to tell you this, but you're a day late."

Late? This was when Enzo told them to be here. "What?" Joyce whispered, her heart leaping into her throat.

"You see damage to this hull?" He pointed at the plane, which was pretty battered. "Yuri was on sightseeing trip to see polar bears. And then bears got into plane and pull him out of cockpit and kill Yuri."

"No!"

"Yeah." The man was standing right in front of them now, his eyes blazing. Yuri must have been a friend of his. "And he loved bears. They broke his heart. ... Or, rather, punctured it. With their bear claws." He mimed the puncturing, his hands formed into claws, growling.

Then he looked up, and Joyce thought she could see where this was going. She didn't speak, and neither did Murray.

The man burst into laughter, clapping them both hard on the shoulders. "I got you! I got you good!" He pointed at himself. "I'm Yuri. I'm Yuri."

"Oh." Yeah, she got it. She didn't like it, but she got it.

Murray forced a chuckle. "Oh."

Yuri looked down at her. "Uh, you ... You must be Joycey?"

"Just Joyce."

He turned to Murray. "And you are?"

"Murray."

"Murray?"

"Yeah."

"Yuri. Yuri, Murray, Yuri, Murray. We rhyme!"

Joyce rolled her eyes. Of all the sketchy pilots in the world, they had to get a joker. Just what they needed.

Murray forced another laugh. "Yeah. I hear it."

Yuri laughed again, louder this time, and clapped Joyce on the shoulder so hard she slammed into Murray. "Now," he said, the laughter fading from his face like it had never been there. "You have the money?"

"Does your plane actually ... work?" She looked at it skeptically.

"Oh, she fly! She fly beautifully! If you have the money."

"We have it."

"Let me see."

Joyce looked doubtfully at Murray. She wanted ... she wanted to send this pilot off to Russia and only give him the money when he came back with Hopper. She wanted to go with him, or really anything to have some assurances that this was going to go all right, that she could trust him. But she had come this far. She had trusted Enzo; she would have to trust Murray. Because what choice did she have? Walk away from this ratty hangar, knowing Hopper was alive, sentencing him to a life in a Russian prison because she was afraid to give up a little bit of money?

No. That wasn't an option. She nodded to Murray, who held up the bag with the money.

"And it is all there?" Yuri asked.

"Of course it is!" Like she would short anyone.

Murray carried the bag into the hangar and unzipped it. "Forty thousand American dollars, as promised."

Yuri bent over, shoving his face into the bag, and inhaled the scent of the money. "I love the smell of cash in morning." He grinned at them. Sitting down behind his desk, he added, "I hope you do not mind if I count. You two seem very nice, very trustworthy people. But so did my brother ... before he stole my wife!" They both stared at him, and he cackled hysterically before looking Joyce over. "Poor bird, you're freezing." He gestured behind them. "Please. Have some coffee. Still hot. This could be a while."

A hot cup of coffee did sound good. Getting away from Yuri sounded better. Joyce and Murray looked at each other questioningly, then headed for the coffeepot, leaving Yuri to count the money.

It seemed to take forever for him to finish. Joyce felt her eyelids drooping as she sipped the coffee. It had been such a long couple of days, and she hadn't slept well, and she really just wanted this guy to finish up and go get Hopper already.

She and Murray sat on the couch in front of the desk, warming their fingers with the coffee, until Yuri finally—finally—announced "Forty thousand. All there."

"Okay. Now your turn." Joyce sat forward. "Go get Hopper."

"I will. But first, I will call Enzo. If your friend is dead, I could save myself trouble and fuel." Yuri laughed again. "I'm kidding. I'm sure he's not dead. But still, I should check."

Joyce supposed it made some sense to call and let Enzo know the deal was in place. But it was frustrating as hell to keep sitting here and waiting.

Murray took a gulp of the coffee. "I don't like him."

She thought about pointing out that she hadn't liked Murray when they met, either, but she didn't like Yuri either—more than she hadn't liked Murray.

Instead, she got up to refill her coffee cup. But something was wrong. She felt so dizzy, and it was hard to focus on the cup. Joyce blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. Glancing at Murray, she saw him fast asleep on the couch. Alarm filled her. This wasn't right. But blackness was teasing at the edges of her vision. She fell.

She had enough consciousness left to recognize Yuri as he bent over her, whispering, "I'm sorry, poor bird. Did I make your coffee too strong?"

And then the blackness closed in on her.