A World Turned Upside Down: A Will X Reader X Mike (ST)

If You Love Me, Don't Let Go

Nancy
I peer inside Barb's car, which is still parked in the same place from last night. There's no sign of her, and I call her name once and then again.

My next resort is to check around Steve's backyard, around the pool. I call her name again and hear rustling in the brush. I check it out, hoping it might be Barb. Still nothing.

Something whips by behind me and I jump to face it, but I see nothing. I trip in attempt to run away and pick myself up, not wanting to know what it was. Whatever it was, it wasn't Barb.

Joyce
I lean against the wall, cigarette in mouth. The dog barks and I see the lights blinking in a trail, as if leading me someplace. I follow the lights and they lead me to a small cupboard. I grab a ball of Christmas lights out of a box and climb into the cupboard.

"Will . . . are you here?" I ask in a whisper. The lights shine brightly. "Okay, good, good, good, good." They dim down again.

"Okay . . . blink once for yes, twice for no. Can you do that for me, sweetie?" They blink once. Yes. "Oh, good boy. Good boy. Baby, I need to know . . . are you alive?" The blink once. Yes. I breathe a sigh of relief. "Are you safe?" They blink twice. No. "I need to know where to find you, honey. Where . . . Where are you? Can you . . . Can you tell me where you are? Can . . . Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please, just . . ." I look around, hoping for something. "Will . . ."

I climb out of the cupboard and open a can of paint. Underneath each lightbulb on the wall, I draw a letter, until I have the entire alphabet. {Iconic scene.}

Nancy
"Hey, you're home early," Mom says as I walk through the door. "How was the game?" I walk toward her and she notices the tears in my eyes. "Nancy? What's wrong?"

"It's Barb . . . ," I snivel. "I think . . . something happened. Something terrible."

Hopper
"I don't know, Chief," Powell says.

"What don't you know?" I ask.

"This lady, Terry Ives, sounds like a real nut to me," he says. "Her kid was taken for LSD mind control experiments? She's been discredited. Claim was thrown out—"

"Okay, forget about her," I interrupt, shuffling the papers away from him. "Take a look at this." I hand him a paper, headed MKULTRA EXPOSED. "Dr. Martin Brenner."

"Who?"

"Brenner. He runs Hawkins lab."

"Okay."

I lean back in my seat. "You don't find that interesting?"

"Not really. He was involved in some hippie crap back in the day. So what?"

"No, this isn't 'hippie crap'. This is CIA-sanctioned research."

"Doesn't mean he had anything to do with our kid."

"Come on; look at the hospital gowns. All of them." I place my finger on the children standing next to Brenner in the picture. "Now, that piece of fabric that the teacher found by the pipe. That sure looked like a hospital gown to me, huh? Am I wrong?"

"I don't know, Chief."

"Come on, man. Work with me here. I'm not saying that there's some grand conspiracy. I'm just . . ." I sigh. "I'm saying maybe something happened. Maybe Will was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he saw something he shouldn't have."

"It's a reach."

"It's a start."

"Hey, Powell, is the chief with you?" Callahan rings through on Powell's radio. I grab the radio from Powell.