𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (Steve Harrington x fem!OC)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

It had been only a day since Will died, so naturally I planned on spending the day in bed. Occasionally I would pick up a notepad to doodle, or get up to go to the bathroom, but others than that, my head remained glued to the pillow. That was, of course, until the phone rang.

I walked over with tears still in my eyes, and I caught a look at myself in the mirror on the way over. Wow, did I look tired. The blue and dark pink spots under my eyes, the shaking in my hands, and the greasiness of my hair. I disregarded the alarming image of myself and answered the phone.

"Hello. Who is this?"

"Hey, Callie. It's me."

"Jonathan! Oh my god, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?"

"Me? Oh y-yeah I'm gonna be okay."

"Good..."

"So, what did you need to call me for Jon?"

"Oh, right. Um, Will needs to have a funeral planned, and I can't handle it on my own, my mom isn't well enough mentally or physically do to it. So... could you help."

I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand for only a second, then answered with a shaky voice.

"Yeah, sure. Pick me up in twenty?" 

"Okay. Bye"

"Yeah, bye."

I wanted to look a little nice for the occasion, so I showered and pinned my hair up in a bun, then put on a dull outfit. I put on a little makeup, but after it wouldn't cover my eyebags, I gave up. Usually I wore contacts, but today I simply wore my glasses and mascara. 

Jonathan came and pick me up and the ride was nearly silent. Once we finally arrived, a salesman was showing us coffin options.

"It's made of soft wood with a crepe interior. Now, I don't know what your budget is, but over here, we have copper and bronze." Jonathan looked at me nervously, to which I just nodded and took his hand. He clearly didn't know anything about funeral planning, and neither did I, considering the last funeral I'd been to was when I was ten years old, and we were teenagers. A voice cleared their throat behind me, and I turned to see Nancy looking at us, with an apprehensive look on her face. 

"Excuse us for a moment, please." I smiled at the man and Jonathan and I made our way over to Nancy.

"Hi, guys." She turns her gaze over to me, and I have my arms crossed over my chest, looking down at her, "I didn't know you wore glasses, Callie." I furrow my brow and sort of hum in response. 

"Can we help you?" I ask quietly.

"Hey." Jonathan says as he arrives at my side.

"Hey. Your mom, she said you'd be here. I just... can we talk for a second?" Nancy looks at Jonathan, with the same sympathetic look she gave me. He nods and I sit next to them on a nearby bench. Nancy pulls out a photograph from the other night that appears to have been pieced together with scotch tape. 

"What is that?" I point to a weird-looking shadowy figure in the corner of the landscape. Nancy just nods at me, letting us know that's what she wanted to talk about.

" It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn't using the wide angle. I don't know. It's weird." Jonathan explains.

"And you're sure you didn't see anyone else out there?" Nancy looks at him concerned. 

"No. And she was there one second and then, gone. I figured she bolted." He said in a sort of monotone. I patted his shoulder. 

"The cops think that she ran away-"

"They don't know Barb, she wouldn't do that." I interrupted her. She nodded and continued.

"And I went back to Steve's and I thought I saw something. Some weird man or I don't know what it was. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here today. I'm so sorry." Nancy says as she furrows her brow and starts to walk away. 

"What'd he look like?" I stand up and ask, looking at the back of her head as she freezes. 

"What?" She immediately turns around. 

"This man you saw in the woods. What'd he look like?" Jonathan asks, adding on to my thought. We've always had a type of best friend telepathy. 

"I don't know. It was almost like he didn't have . . ." She puts a hand to her forehead and Jonathan and I look at each other. 

"Didn't have a face?" We say in unison.

"How did you know that?" Nancy marvels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three of us stand in the dark room, Nancy staring at the photo over Jonathan's shoulder, while I pace in the background. 

"And you're . . . " Nancy trails off. 

"Brightening. Enlarging." Jonathan mutters.

"Hmm. Did your mom say anything else? Like, where it might have gone to, or . . . " She tries to fish for more information, and I stop pacing, looking back at the pair.

"No, just that it came out of the wall." He answers, which makes me continue walking in circles.

"How long does this take?" I ask, bored out of my mind, and pretty sure that Barb is fine.

"Not long." He mutters again. 

"Have you been doing this a while?" Nancy inquires. 

"What?" 

"Photography?" She clarifies.

"Since the beginning of time, Nance. I've been watching him take pictures for years, and I still don't understand how he does it." I say admiringly of my friend.

"Yeah. I guess I'd rather observe people than, you know . . ." Jonathan states quietly.

"Talk to them." Nancy states. I put my pointer finger on my nose, still not smiling. 

"I know. It's weird." 

"No!" 

"No, it is. It's just, sometimes people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment it says more." 

" What was I saying? "

"What?"

"When you took my picture."

Ew. Are they flirting right now? I thought. Just as I brought the notion to my head, Jonathan ruined it.

"I shouldn't have taken that. I'm sorry. It's just . . ".

"That's it. That's what I saw. " Nancy points to the figure in the photo. I walk over and put my hand over my mouth in both awe and fear. That took Barb?!

"My mom I thought she was crazy 'cause she said that's not Will's body. That he's alive." Jonathan gasps.

"And if he's alive . . ." Nancy ponders.

"Then Barbara." We all exclaim in response. I thread my fingers through my hair and push my glasses further up on the bridge of my nose, as I exclaim:

"Holy shit!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yay, sorry for the late chapter, i was sick this week, and i thought it would give me more time to write, but i really just slept more