Jailbird || Stranger Things

twenty-five ➵ the spy

Despite her efforts to not be a lab rat, the doctors of Hawkins lab took Reese's blood and scanned her brain. Once she was given another green light, she accepted a blanket and her things, then stood outside with her father, lighting a cigarette she'd received from one of the security guards.

"I can't shake this feeling," she said as she breathed out, the wind carrying off the grey smoke.

"I can look after them," Jim told her once more, the two walking towards his truck so that she could get the rest of her things.

"I know, it's not that—" she paused, grimacing as another bolt of pain pierced the side of her head. "I just can't ignore this feeling that something horrible is gonna happen," she told him once she managed to speak again.

"Have you taken your meds?" he asked, letting her hold the door as he got into the driver's seat and reached for the radio, tuning it.

"They told me not to, so it doesn't mess with the scans and blood work," she shook her head, leaning in the doorframe.

"The headaches're worse?" he asked, glancing at her neck that for once had no extra scratches bar the ones she got during the previous night.

"I think Owens is right," she admitted, "That it has something to do with Will, like the virus."

"You think you're sensitive to it?" he asked.

"I think it's why I know something horrible is about to happen," she looked up at him, taking one last drag of her cigarette before she dropped it and stomped it out.

"You want to go home?"

"No," she sighed. "It's not to do with that. It's the other boys," she shrugged, leaning her head against the doorframe also as he picked up the receiver. "When I talked to Mike earlier, while you and Joyce were in the hall, he seemed like he was hiding something. Like there was something else. I'm worried about Dustin and Lucas."

"If there's nothing else, feel free to go home, Reese," he told her, smiling gently.

"I'll speak to Owens."

──────

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. This will do just fine. Good call, dude."

The scrapyard stretched out in front of the pair, Steve taking off his sunglasses as he walked towards the centre of the field. He left behind a proudly smiling Dustin, who soon followed in his footsteps, scattering the rest of the meat.

"I said medium well!"

Steve and Dustin looked up to spot Lucas and Max at the edge of the ring of vehicles, waving before they approached.

"Who's that?" Steve asked, recognising the girl from the one time he saw her get out of Billy's car. But when he looked to Dustin, he didn't need to ask again.

"You told her?" Dustin asked Lucas as he dragged his friend behind a scrap car, out of sight of the other two who were left with some basic instructions.

"So what?" Lucas shrugged.

"So what," Dustin repeated with a sarcastic tone.

"You wanted to tell her too!"

"Yeah but I didn't, all right? We all agreed not to tell her and to look for Dart."

"Who you conveniently found," Lucas replied.

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying?" Dustin asked, hurt, though he knew Lucas had good instincts.

"I'm saying you have a creepy little bond with him," the other boy corrected.

"Yeah that was before he turned into a Demogorgon."

"And you haven't heard from Mike?"

"No."

"Or Will?"

"No!"

"Hopper?"

"No! No one is around!" Dustin stressed.

"Have you tried Reese?"

"So you want to tell another person?!"

"No, to reach Hopper," Lucas shrugged, but Dustin didn't seem convinced. "Or to reach Joyce, or Jonathan—"

"Steve's been looking for her. She disappeared last night and hasn't been heard from since," Dustin replied. "She wasn't at work today."

"At the RadioShack?"

"I'm as shocked as you are," Dustin nodded, "Why do you think I'm with Steve Harrington?" he asked, "Something's—"

"Wrong, I agree. Which is why we need as much help as we can get," Lucas explained. At the sound of a quiet curse from Max, the boys pulled themselves up, looking through the missing windows of the car to watch her struggle to lift a plate of metal. "She didn't believe me anyway."

"Probably didn't tell it right," Dustin replied, understanding the weird nature of the story of last year.

"That must be it," Lucas looked at his friend, trying not to laugh. At the less tense moment, the boys straightened up, while Lucas offered his hand. "So we good?"

Before Dustin could shake, however, Steve Harrington decided to interrupt the moment by slamming a metal chair at the car, making the boys jump.

"Hey! Dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?" he asked, waving his hand, "We lose light in forty minutes. Let's go," he walked back towards Max, neglecting to look behind him as the boys followed, "Let's go, I said!"

"All right, asshole!"

"God, stupid!"

──────

The polaroids taken at the Byers house were spread out onto the table. Teresa had been pulled into helping by Owens once she was told Will saw something, but her head continued to pound.

There seemed to be no end. The only time she had any relief was outside, but that hadn't lasted long.

Maybe it was the gate.

She sat on Will's other side, Owens looking over both of their shoulders as Will searched the pictures.

"Sam, this is ludicrous," one of the other members of staff spoke up after a solid ten minutes of silence.

"Just give him a moment, okay?" Owens waved him off.

"We don't have time—"

"Hey, jackass, why don't you do us all a favour and shut up, okay?" Jim spoke for the first time since returning to the building besides checking on his daughter and Joyce.

"I wouldn't argue with my dad, sir, he's got enough problems he just might take out on you," Teresa spoke absentmindedly, more interested in the way Will's eyes were scanning over all of the images.

Jim's eyes stuck to the impatient man, sending him a sarcastic smile before he turned back to his daughter.

Suddenly, Will stood up, Teresa following to get out of his way as he walked past her to keep looking at photos. As he reached the head of the table, Teresa's eyes caught on something else, but she let Will point out a different section.

"That's it."

"That's... That's what? What's there, Will?" Owens asked as Joyce came to stand beside Teresa and Jim watched Will.

"I don't know," the boy replied, "I just know he doesn't want me to see there," he had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was still trying to see into that place. "I think it's important."

As Owens and Jim shared a look, they both glanced at Teresa, who was stuck to another photograph. She held it in her hands, fingertips going white.

Her headache had given way to images instead. Ones set at night, with the old scrapyard, rusted vehicles and a fortress of a bus. Screams and a radio transmission. Max. Dustin and Lucas. Steve. Dart.

"I'm sorry doc, but I'm gonna have to go."