Below the Surface

November 12, 1982

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Brief language

(Also sorry that it's a bit shorter-- I'm on mobile for this one. But, hey, I got to see a good friend of mine that I hadn't seen in about six months whilst writing it, so it's okay)

One week later, after the task force searching for Finney was disbanded (the chief of police claimed it was to "save resources", but you doubted that. More than likely, they were hopeless), you met Finney's sister. She couldn't have been older than twelve, but she looked middle-aged. You didn't blame her. Apparently, she and Finney were very close, and the stress she must be feeling was unimaginable. Dealing with Terrence by herself, now Finney... It was sad. She was taping missing posters all over the school during lunch. She saw you staring and walked over.

"You're Y/N," she said. "You're Finney's friend."

"Yeah, I am." Your voice was coarse. "You're his sister, Gwen."

"Yeah. I feel stupid asking, but have you seen him?"

Your silence filled Gwen's dim eyes with a glimmer of hope. It broke your heart to lie to her, but you couldn't say anything. You just couldn't bring yourself to.

"No," you lied. "I'm sorry. I wish I had."

Gwen sat down next to you and sighed. "Yeah. Me, too. Do you think he's alive?"

"I know he is. Finney's strong." You looked at Gwen, who stared forlornly at one of the posters in her hand. "You're the family. Have you heard anything about his disappearance?"

"It was the Grabber," her voice was suddenly strong, angry. "A bunch of black balloons were in a tree by a bunch of blood on the sidewalk. I hope it was the Grabbers. I hope Finney kicked his ass."

You don't know the half of it, you thought. Finney got him good.

"With that arm of his, he's bound to get a couple good swings in." Of course, you knew that to be true, but Gwen could only hope.

Before anything else could be said, the bell rang, signalling that lunch had ended.

"It was nice to meet you," Gwen said.

"Yeah, you, too." You stood up and slung your bag over your shoulder. "They'll find him."

Gwen gave you a doubtful look, but nodded before she turned and walked the other direction.

Poor kid.

-----------------------

After school, you saw Gwen again. She was putting more posters up. She really didn't want her brother to face the same fate as everyone else. She's so sweet, you thought. She's so strong.

"How many of those do you have left?" You asked, startling her as you came up from behind.

"Just a few," she said. "I could only make so many."

"You should put them up at the gas stations," you suggested. "Everyone goes there."

"Already did."

"Can I have one? Give it to my uncle?" You asked.

"Sure," she handed one to you and taped the last one on a bench. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"Can you walk me home, please? I hate walking by myself. It's always been me and Finney."

It was windy and cold, and it looked like it might rain. You wanted to go home. But you were lying about the well-being of her kidnapped brother. It was the least that you could do.

On the corner of 5th and Aven, Gwen stopped walking. She looked at you with serious eyes, her fraying hair blowing wildly around her face.

"You okay?" You asked, half turning to her.

"I need to tell you something." Her voice was filled with urgency.

"Well, let's walk and talk. It's cold."

She stepped forward, and you continued as she began to speak.

"I have these dreams. I've had dreams about all the kids that went missing. I watched-- I watched him kill Robin Arellano in his van. And I watched him grab Pinball Vance from right out of his car. And I had a dream about his house. Well, not really his house. It was his street. Can we make a detour?"

You didn't want to do this for a multitude of reasons, but curiosity got the better of you. You wanted to see just how accurate her dream was.

"Sure."

------------------

Your heart dropped out of your ass and onto the sidewalk below you when Gwen turned down your street and paused.

"He lives down here. I don't know which house it is, though."

You were going to be in deep shit if Al happened to look out the window and see you standing with Finney's sister. Well, you'd probably be in trouble for being late, but still.

"You don't look good," Gwen said. "Are you okay?"

"I live on this street," you replied. "I--I live here."

"Oh."

Silence.

"You don't need to walk me home from here. It's really close. Just stay safe." Gwen reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled up sticky note. "Here. Let me write our phone number down, and call me if you need it."

It felt weird to be consoled by someone as young as Gwen, but it still made you feel a bit safer. She handed you the paper and walked away, leaving you shaken.

You weren't scared of the Grabber. Well, you were, but not in the sense everyone else was. You weren't scared you were going to be taken. You were terrified of the fact that Gwen's dream gave her the right street. What kind of voodoo was that?

When you walked inside, Al was nowhere to be seen. There was a half-empty beer sitting on the counter, but there was no middle-aged man to accompany it. The house was silent. You peeked into the garage. His van wasn't there.

Al was gone.