it's the end of the world as we know it.

08. local dumbass knew what they were getting themselves into and did it anyway

After an awkward breakfast of silence, Nancy called home to make sure her parents were still blindsided of their whereabouts. Frankie poked at the eggs Murray had made with his fork, his chin propped up by his elbow and palm, avoiding Jonathan's curious gaze. He knew Jonathan was analyzing every past moment he saw Frankie with a bruise, trying to recall if it was Frankie's own idiocy or his father.

Frankie hated that they knew the truth now, he didn't want to be seen as weak, and while he had planned on telling Jonathan at some point, he didn't like what Nancy knew now. Nancy was barely his friend, and they both knew each other were annoyed by the others' presence most of the time. On top of her not liking him already, he didn't want her to feel bad for him either.

Jonathan had called his house before Nancy and got nothing; and as she turned back to the group with the phone in her hand, she glanced at Jonathan. "My mom said Mike was at your house, had a sleepover with your brother... do you want to try again?"

"No, it's fine. They're probably at the matinée or something." Jonathan shrugged, as he pulled on his jacket. Frankie glanced between the two as he pulled his hoodie on, the group made their way to the door as Murray opened it for them. They stopped once outside, and turned to face the man.

"Thank you, for everything." Nancy said. While Frankie felt no need to be nice to him, he supposed they should thank him for his help in taking down the lab.

"Don't thank me yet. Just keep your eyes on the papers, hm?" Murray grinned, he handed them a fresh bottle of the vodka they had shared last night. "For your travels... and to water it down." He handed Jonathan a water bottle.

"And if you need to reach me again... don't." Murray said, slamming the door shut in their face, making Nancy flinch. She glanced between Frankie and Jonathan.

"Hm. Giving alcohol to minors." Frankie muttered under his breath, shaking his head. They returned to Jonathan's car, climbing back in and resuming their original positions. Frankie shifted again so he could stretch out in the back, and he kept to himself, his arms crossed and hood over his head as his back was pressed against the interior wall of the car.

No one said anything as Jonathan drove off and Murray's house became a speck behind them, until they cruised onto the interstate, Nancy shifted in her seat, her arm bracing against Jonathan's seat as she looked at Frankie.

"Frankie?" She questioned, her voice soft as she looked at him.

"Don't." He murmurs, shaking his head.

"You can't ignore it forever."

"But I can, and I will. Because no matter how much it's true, he had no right to say anything. And it's like I'd want to talk to you of all people about it." Frankie snapped, and Nancy's eyes fell. He knew he was being rude, but he could care less. He didn't bother looking at Jonathan either, Frankie knew he'd disapprove of his attitude towards Nancy, but all Frankie wanted to do was go home.

—

When they arrived at Hawkins, they first stopped at Jonathan's house to check in with his family as they had gotten nothing from them earlier in the day. Then they were going to drop Nancy and Frankie off at their houses.

There were cars in the lot of Jonathan's house, and Mike's bike sat outside, giving the impression that people were home. Frankie and Nancy followed Jonathan inside, and they were met with a strange sight.

Opening the door to the Byers house, the home was frigid cold, and paper was stuck all over the walls. The paper had blue scribbles, and they looked like vines, the way they wrapped around the house and shot off in different directions.