Shadows of the Night •a Stranger Things story•

Indiana Flyer

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Robbie's body slips past her again, and Chris falls back from the momentum. Instead of falling onto the forest floor, she feels gravity disappear from underneath her, and for a split second, she's suspended in the air. Her stomach drops at the sudden change before she lands back on the concrete roof in New York City, and the sky has changed, darker with fewer stars.

"I said, what do you want?!"

A man's distraught voice echoes around her, coming from every direction: the sky, the inside of her skull, the ground beneath her. He sounds so afraid and disoriented, much like she feels in the moments after the sound of his voice has vanished. It's so sudden, but the feeling lingers. Someone's in danger. Chris is as sure as rain it isn't Robbie's voice, and while it isn't as familiar as his, it isn't unfamiliar either.

"Howdy there, Shadow Walker," a mocking voice chirps from Chris's right. She collects herself, sitting up next to Sara, who is exactly as Chris leaves her every time she's in this dream or dimension or whatever they call it.

"Sara," she exhales.

Sara is lying flat against the concrete, her hair splayed out, face serene and smooth. She's got a smile on her face as she greets her sister, gently tugging on Chris's hand. She looks older, definitely older than seven and for sure older than the last time the Shadow Walker saw her. The same age as the party is now, about fourteen; she's becoming a fully-fledged teenager, and it tugs at Chris's heart so hard, her eyes prickle with tears instantly.

"Don't cry," Sara demands. She rolls her face away from Chris, looking at the sky instead of her. Maybe Sara also doesn't want to think about the age she should be, or getting older, or both of them missing out on so many things together. "You know I hate it when you think about my age."

Bobbing her head roughly, Chris sniffs and says, "I know."

"Let's cut to it," Sara begins. "You're here because you figured you'd test some things out on Robbie, and you'd hate to say it, but even though two doesn't make a pattern, three does, and you don't know it yet, but you've already been unable to reach someone else's dreams."

"What?" Chris peers at Sara, her face twisted in exasperation. "Slow down."

"You can't control people's nightmares, Chris," Sara says simply. "Steve's nightmare. Robbie's nightmare. Anyone's nightmare. Not now."

With a sigh, Chris carefully thinks of her next question. Sara tends to get cryptic fast, and the longer Chris can keep up with it, the more information Sara can give her. "Okay, no use in trying to change these nightmares then."

"I didn't say that." Sara gives Chris a dubious look.

Chris goes quiet again. She can't change people's nightmares. Not now, Sara said, so possibly someday she'll be able to. Something is missing. She's focused on the wrong thing.

"I haven't seen you in a while. Why now?" Sara wonders.

"Why now?" echoes Chris.

The two sisters sit in silence for a while. Chris mulls everything over as Sara stares up at the stars. She's hardly moved from her spot on the ground, and Chris wishes she could watch Sara do more than this. Finally, Chris lies down next to her little sister again and reaches for her hand. Sara clasps her hand back, and they lie there.

"Can I show you the stars?" Chris offers.

In a quiet voice, similar to the one Sara used to have as a kid following Chris around the apartment, begging for Chris to play with her, Sara whispers, "Not here."