you are not alone → stranger things

xxxiii. dustin

Saturday afternoon
Max's POV

I glanced over at Mike and Eleven. They were hugging, and I swear I'd heard them say they loved each other a second ago.

I swallowed and looked away. There goes another tragic love story where the guy thinks the girl is dead and then kills himself. I could see the recent cuts on Mike's wrist. How could no one else see them?

Hopper parked the car. "Won't it be obvious that we're here? They can see the car," Mrs. Byers objected.

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Just trust me."

"We're going in this place in broad daylight-" she began again, sounding slightly afraid.

"Joyce," he said firmly, and she stopped. "Come on." He opened his door and got out, and she did the same.

Mike looked at me, looking guilty. "Max, uh, are you sure you want to come?"

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously, or I wouldn't have stood in front of the car."

"But it's dangerous, and-" he tried.

"I've been through more than you think, Mike," I burst out angrily. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do." Before he could reply, I opened the door and got out.

My thoughts swirled through my head. Why had I told him that? Now he'll be suspicious. Now he'll ask uncomfortable questions.

I suddenly couldn't stop the flow of truth to the front of my brain. My rapist brother. My cheating father. My alcoholic mother. Dustin. Dustin could tell him. He might if Mike asked.

I closed my eyes, trying not to have a breakdown. Not now. Not now. Come on. Pull yourself together.

But I couldn't help remembering one thing.

Flashback - Wednesday night
I ran for the front door. The sun had already set. Had Billy noticed? I didn't want another night like Monday.

He noticed, all right. He was standing just inside the door, the room smelling strongly of cannabis. "Where have you been?"

I swallowed. "At a friend's house."

He walked forward and slapped me. "Bitch. Like you have friends. I'll say it again again: where were you."

"I was at a friend's house!" I exclaimed, backing away and bumping the open window next to the door.

For every step back I took, he took two steps towards me. He was right up against me in seconds, so close that I thought I was going to choke on the overpowering smell of weed. He grabbed the front of my shirt. "If you insist. Then that friend won't mind if you stay with them, right?" He lifted me bodily into the air and jerked the door open, not bothering to be gentle. I could hear the seams in my shirt protesting. Billy took a few steps out the door and thrust me to the ground outside. It took all I had not to scream in pain, my back hitting the hard concrete. "Go on, you bitch. Jump off a cliff in that quarry with your friend. Do us a favor."

The door snapped shut behind him, and I lay in the dark, breathing hard. I could feel the tears coming.

"Max?" The voice was afraid, cautious. And it was a voice I knew.

I looked to my left and saw Dustin coming towards me from the street. His stricken expression told me what I had been afraid of all my life: he had seen.

"Why are you here?" I asked roughly.

"I- I followed you home, 'cause I was curious. You never tell us anything about your family or where you live or anything like that. So, uh..."

"You saw everything?" I clung to the hope that he hadn't.

But he nodded guiltily and knelt beside me. "Was... was that your brother?" I nodded, and he continued, "I didn't know you had a brother."

"Why do you think I never told you?" I snapped. I brushed the wetness from my face and stood. He stood too, and I looked at him. "What do you care?"

Then suddenly Dustin was embracing me, pulling me to him, rubbing my back. "Don't listen to him," he murmured. "Don't let people like that tell you who you are."

I sniffled into his shoulder, my anger disappearing into the air. His arms were warm, and I almost felt safe. After a few moments, I backed away, awkwardly tucked my hair behind my ear, and said, "I need to find somewhere to go."

Dustin smiled, seeming to remember something. "Well, if Mike can hide a girl in his house for a week, I'm sure I can for one or two nights until we find someplace else. Come on."

He had his bike nearby, propped against a bush. As we rode through the dark streets, he wanted to know, "Can you tell me about what's happening with that stuff? I, um, won't tell anyone. Obviously."

I was silent for a moment. "If you tell me what I want to know."

"What's that?" He sounded slightly nervous.

"I want you to tell me where Will is. And tell me who this girl is that Mike's depressed about and who, according to what you just said, he hid in his house for a week. And don't leave anything out. I know you know stuff I don't."

Present
"Max?" Mike and Eleven was standing in front of me, looking concerned.

I straightened. "What?"

"You spaced out or something. You're crying," Mike noted.

I glared at him and shrugged. "Well, are we going in this damn other dimension or not?" I brushed past them and ran after the two adults, who were already halfway towards the door.