Lost boys • Will Byers

4

Hopper's POV

Hopper sat down in the booth. Though it was ten thirty already, there wasn't a whole lot of people in the diner. It was a school day, after all.

Not long after he sat down, Joyce Byers made her way to the table. "Sorry if I'm late." He shook his head. "Actually, you're right on time." Pam Burton walked in, the bell chiming as the door opened and shut. The fall breeze swept through the diner. Hopper raised his hand to signal where they were. She took a seat, smiling at Joyce. Even though she looked friendly, he could tell she was on edge. She looked like she hadn't slept in days— she probably hadn't with her work schedule, missing son, and her other son, who everyone at the station knew fairly well.

"I'm gonna just cut right to the chase here. Your boys... are very similar. Problems at home, problems at school..." Joyce and Pam stared at him. "Most are saying they got sick of this town and took off together."

However something deep inside of him felt how wrong the statement seemed. He could tell the cases were connected. Nobody wanted to believe that there was some monster kidnapping kids. Of course there was the chance that the kids were playing hooky, but if their mothers both confirmed that neither were the type then they were probably right. Who knows a child better than their mother?

"Ran off...?" Pam was fuming. "How many times have I told you Hopper? Will would never just run off! Not to Lonnie, not to the Wheeler's, not out in those goddamned woods! He would never!" Joyce said, her voice raising, causing heads to turn.

"I'm not saying I agree with them. But it is a possibility. Check with Lonny, check with Al, check with their friends. The police department is going to send out a search party and after this I'm going to their school to have a chat with their friends, okay?" The two women in front of him nodded, then, in unison, said, "Okay."

Charlie's POV

"Madonna or Farrah Fawcett? Madonna.... or Farrah Fawcett? He questioned.

"What is it with you and Madonna, man?" Tommy asked with a chuckle, his arm wrapped loosely around Carol's shoulder. "Hot. Way hotter than anyone here."

"Okay, I can agree with you there." Tommy said. Carol rolled her eyes. "Come on. We should head to class." Charlie said. "Why? Scared of skipping?"

"Been caught too many times. They said next time I get a two hour detention." Charlie said with an annoyed expression. "Have fun sucking face behind the bleachers." He laughed then walked off.

Pam Burton's POV

Though she was usually falling asleep after a work shift, Pam Burton was wide awake.

If Danny and Will didn't show up at their houses after school was let out, then she officially had a reason to worry.

Maybe they were mad at her 'no sleepovers on school nights' rule. Danny did seem pretty angry when she told him. She just didn't want him getting made fun of anymore by kids at school. She could tell it hurt him.

She stood up suddenly and walked briskly to her car, starting the engine and driving off.

Al lived fifteen minutes away, on the border. He had moved in with a friend for the time being.

They had only divorced a month prior, so not everything was settled. Pam still had things at her house that belonged to Al, things he didn't come back to get and things she never had time to return.

When she got to the small house— a ranch house with blue, chipped paint— she rapped quickly on the door.

A tall bearded man answered. "Who are you?" He asked roughly. "I need to see Al." She told him, crossing her arms. "Al? He's busy." He tried to shut the door but she wedged her foot in the space so he couldn't. "Tell Al that someone is here to see him, understand?" He sighed then nodded, disappearing into the house.

Minutes later, a short, stocky man with a beard came to the door. "Al, I need to talk to you." She said. "Huh? Why?"

"It's about Danny."

"Danny? What about him?" He asked. He led her into the house and plopped down on the couch, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"He's missing... and I thought—"

"That he'd come here?" He asked incredulously. "Well... Maybe—"

"Kid never did like me... I mean, Charlie hated me after we got married. Maybe he just followed his big brother's footsteps." He rambled aimlessly, staring at the black screen on the tv.

It was true. Danny Burton hated his father with a burning passion. He'd much rather pretend his dad was someone else— a scientist of sorts, one who couldn't ever be at home because of work.

"My point," he started, looking up to her, "is that he would never come here."

"Thanks anyway." She said with a sigh. She squeezed her car keys and turned to walk out.

"Wait!" He called, making her turn. "Stay a minute. I wanna know how the boys are."

Pam glared at him, then sat down at the edge of the couch.

"It didn't occur to me that you cared..." She said softly.

"I do. Really, I've just been busy." Al told her. "Busy? With what? Work?" She laughed dryly. Al Burton had a boring 9 to 5 job at a bank.

"Yeah actually..." he trailed off, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands.

"How's Charlie?" He asked suddenly.

"He's good. Only got into one fight last week."

Charlie had a history of getting angry at someone then resolving it with his fists. He'd gotten quite good at it and she was kind of proud of him, though Pam would never admit that out loud.

"Really? I thought you had that handled." He mumbled. "What handled? Al he used to be getting into five fights a week. He was hardly ever at school because he was always suspended." She said, her voice raising.

"Now if you ask me, I'd say one fight last week is a big improvement, right?"

Defeated, he nodded.

"You know, just forget I asked."

Al mumbled, standing up.

"What? Don't you wanna hear about your other son? The one that's actually yours?" She yelled.

"You mean that queer that you couldn't keep a tight enough leash on? No way—"

He was cut off when Pam Burton smacked him across the face. A stinging sensation seemed to spread on his cheek and he pressed his hand against it.

"Jesus—"

"You may not like it, but he is and will always be your son. Now what you're gonna do, is put up these damn posters around the neighborhood, and we're going to find him, alright?"

He paused for a moment, staring at the posters, his son's face plastered all over them. Finally, he grabbed them and set them on the table, nodding slightly.

"Alright."