Season Three Inspired Oneshots~

~28~

All he knew was he woke up in a cold sweat.

He could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, like a drum, repeatedly. He tried to catch his breath, trying to calm his breathing.

His room was dark, the only light coming from outside; provided by a lamp post, the light shining into his room through his curtains.

The blanket was bunched in his hands, he was sweating. He cursed under his breath, feeling tears stinging inside his eyes.

Breathe. Breathe.

Quite recently, his nightmares were horrific. Past memories he'd put behind him were coming back, and people who he thought his friends would be free of kept popping into his mind.

Specifically one man. A tall, suit wearing man with silvery hair. A sinister man. The man who hurt the girl he loved.

In recent days he was just so lost. Brenner popping into his head constantly and the news that El may have been moving on with a new boy at her new school.

Ever since the Byers moved to Illinois their relationship was rocky. He wanted to be with her, to love her, but it was so difficult to love her when they were hundreds of miles apart.

When he couldn't hug her, or hold her hand, or reassure her when she was down. When she struggled.

He was always so scared. His thoughts taunted him in whatever state he was in.

What if she finds someone else?

What if she doesn't really love you?

What if Brenner knows where she is?

How can I keep her safe?

Brenner was perceived to be dead, but with his dreams he'd become weary.

So he kept saying to himself quietly, he's dead. He can't hurt her.

And he wanted to believe that. However he also wanted to nail Brenner in the face for what he did to El.

He felt his cotton shirt, tears beginning to fall. He couldn't understand why she had to go. He knew, but not properly. It didn't make sense in his head.

She was gone because Hopper was gone. But no. She couldn't be. He'd been denying it for months. Sometimes when he felt too low, too sad, he'd walk through the woods.

He'd go back to the cabin. He'd think about everything.

It was always the highlight of his day. Walking or biking to the cabin, to see the door swing open before he even made his way up the wooden steps.

And of course, she'd rush down the steps and practically tackle him in a hug. And he was so happy.

Now he was sitting enveloped in sweat, crying silently. Wishing that he could go back to the cabin. Wishing that she was only a comm call away.

He wiped away his tears, silently getting up and walking to the bathroom.

He examined his face in the mirror, his eyes red and the tip of his nose as well. And he simply thought.

I have to see it again.

The last time he'd gone through the woods to the cabin was a few months earlier. He hadn't been back, and didn't want to go back. But now, he felt like he needed to.

He kept telling himself that he'd see her. That she'd be there. But to nobody's surprise, she wasn't.

He knew that, too. But he still zipped up a windbreaker he found in his closet, and tried to figure out the most silent way to get out of the house.