Shatter [Jonathan Byers] Stranger Things II

V: Journey

jour·ney

noun

an act of traveling from one place to another.

After little debate, they had decided on Jonathan's car for the trip. When they hit the highway, Emilia felt something detach from her, something that was left behind in Hawkins. It took all the weight of the world, planting its feet firmly in Hawkins, and she was free. Free from the baggage. Glancing at Jonathan who was focused on the road and traffic ahead of him, she realized that she had been depriving herself for too long. Reaching over, she ran her fingers through his hair until he glanced at her, only briefly, but a smile lingered.

After some time embracing the rushing sounds of traffic and the wind, Emilia turned on the radio and began to fidget with the tuner until she found something. The upbeat notes of New Order's "Blue Monday" came through the speakers and she turned up the volume. Singing along, not a care in the world, Emilia realized that she would one day have to leave Hawkins. It would probably kill her to live there for the rest of her life, but she worried about what currently tied her down.

Exhaling, she blew out the stress.

"I'm starving," she said after an hour on the road.

"We just had breakfast, two hours ago," Jonathan glanced at her.

She widened her eyes, mock-puppy dog. "I don't tell my stomach when to be hungry, my stomach tells me when I'm hungry."

He laughed, then signalled to turn off of the highway, onto a side road where they found a diner attached to a gas station. Two birds with one stone, they figured. After fuelling up, they slid into a red plastic booth that had Coke-a-Cola spilled in one half. Emilia scooched in after Jonathan, the both of them on the same side instead of facing each other. They grabbed a sticky menu and looked over it, and after too long a bored-looking, gum-chewing waitress came to their booth.

"What can I getcha?" she asked, blowing a bright pink bubble, then popping it with a snap.

Emilia and Jonathan grinned at each other, and then Emilia ordered, "A milkshake, chocolate, extra cherries. Two orders of fries, I'll get a grilled cheese with ketchup, don't forget the ketchup please."

"And I'll get Order Two, please."

"Sure thing," she smiled the same fake smile Emilia always gave at the grocery store. "Hey, what happened to your face, doll?"

Emilia recoiled, stunned by the blatant question. Not letting anger guide her, she retorted with something she'd learned from Nancy, back when they bought all the gear to fight the monster. The one that did that to her face in the first place. "A monster pulled me through the pits of hell."

She blew a bubble in response, followed by a roll of her eyes.

When she left, there was an uncomfortable silence. Only the bad music playing over the speakers made noise, and the odd clatter of dishes in the back. Emilia rapped her fingers on the table, then scraped at a knife cut in the faux-wood.

Jonathan reached his hand over and clutched hers, a silent but powerful gesture of support. Leaning in, he kissed her cheek gently and remained close for a brief moment. After the fire, Emilia had not been saddened or disheartened by the wounds that had been inflicted upon her. She'd appeared so brave and even impartial to them. But slowly the knowledge that her face would forever be burned crept in, Jonathan saw the moment she began to realize this. She'd linger longer by a mirror, and then not look in one for ages.

He did everything he could to reinforce the vital information that she was still beautiful.

"Don't let her get to you," he whispered.

Emilia knew people would be curious, people would ask. But the polite thing to do was to pretend she looked like everybody else. Some people just didn't get it, they didn't understand the power that their words held. For years, Emilia had been a victim of Carol's relentless bullying, all stemmed from some twisted version of jealousy. She reminded herself that she was above all that, it didn't matter. The scars meant she survived.

The reminders were permanent, on the outside. Everyone else involved had gotten through unscathed, but Emilia knew that they too were scarred, deep down. Blowing a stray hair away from her face, she saw the tray of food heading in her direction and sat upright. She repeated a mantra, don't let it get to you, over and over. The greeted the waitress with a smile, even if it was hard to do.

The food, as expected, did make Emilia let bygones be bygones. The tensions released from her shoulders. When she was done, she leaned her head on Jonathan's shoulder and looked out at the road. The truck-stop was just off of the highway, trucks and cars roared by. People got gas, then disappeared forever from their lives. Their journey had yet to begin.

"I'll be right back," Emilia slid out of the booth, Jonathan having to get out to let her by, and then headed down towards the washrooms.

On her way back, her hands freezing because the diner didn't appear to have hot water in the washrooms, she strolled passed a group of men who were seated at the counters. Jonathan was in sight, and it looked like he had finished his meal. A gross feeling crept up her spine as she walked, picking up her pace, she just wanted to get out of there.

The hand that slapped her ass belonged to a lanky man, his hair greasy and his teeth yellowing from cigarettes and coffee, even though he could not have been more than twenty. She froze, then turned around with fury etched onto her face. He, somehow, managed to get his words in before she did.

"Woah," he recoiled, "Too bad the front of you doesn't look as good as the back."

Emilia thought of Tommy.

I should have kept the lights off.

Her hand came back and then with all the force she had in her, her fist came in contact with the man's nose. He fell off of the stool he was one, landing hard on the fake tile floors. The other men stood and exclaimed their shock at what she had done. Jonathan was there then, and Emilia grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the diner, fuming, muttering "asshole" under her breath.

"What happened back there?!" Jonathan had an inkling.

"Nothing," she growled, "I handled it."

"Hey tough guy," a voice called from behind them, "Your girl has to defend herself?!"

It was far from over.

Thanks for reading! I currently have 12 chapters written, hoping to keep quite a ways ahead of the posting in case I need to add anything later on -like these chapters. I hadn't wanted to write about their trip to the lake, the one from the prologue, but changed my mind because I could do so much with it. 

Question of the Day, what is your favourite eighties song?