Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The thing was… running wasn’t actually fun. Running was exhausting and seemed to do irreparable damage to one’s lungs. There was a sport that involved constant running, it must have been the basis for the Cruciatus Curse, honestly.

“Don’t stop,” Sirianna pleaded - more of a pant, really. It was a nightmare, trying to run through the woods of wherever they were. It was worse when Harry kept stumbling on roots, tripping and injuring himself.

Where was all that quidditch grace she had to hear so much about?

“Side - hurts —” Harry truly panted, sounding much worse than Sirianna was. It made sense, he was in worse shape than she was; he was tired and in pain and Sirianna wished she had burned down the place they escaped for causing all the damage.

“I know.” She did know, she knew all too well. Sirianna pulled on his hand, refusing to ever let go of him again. “Just a little further, I swear.”

Merlin. Don’t let her swear be a lie.

The trees seemed to be beginning to thin, or so Sirianna told herself. The sound of dogs had faded long ago, after Sirianna had fueled her panic into apparation, which made her hopeful that they were in an entirely new place.

They might be able to track them… they had all the right magic to do so, magic Sirianna never knew could even exist… but that would take time and energy and Sirianna didn’t know if they wanted to expend that on them.

Not Sirianna anyway, Harry - as usual - would probably be an exception.

Life was so simple before.

When all Sirianna had to worry about was her brother, learning magic, and smacking people who tried to get too close to her.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, struggling to stay upright. It had to be magic keeping him moving because Sirianna had never seen her brother so physically exhausted.

And they lived with the Dursleys for ten years, so that was saying something really.

Sirianna squinted ahead and her heart pounded painfully in her chest at what looked to be lights. They were near a city - town - something. Where there were lights, there had to be people.

Where there were people… there was danger.

“Stop.” Sirianna slowed down, encouraging Harry to slow as well. They were still hidden by the trees and Sirianna gently pushed Harry down by the trunk of a tree, cloaking him in the shadows so only she could see him.

“You’re bleeding, Har.” Sirianna kneeled in front of her brother and gently used her thumb to wipe away the blood on his cheek, checking to see how deep the cut was. It was deep enough that it should need stitches, Sirianna knew it would be healed up on its own before morning.

“So are you.” Harry wouldn’t meet her eyes, his were so lifeless it made Sirianna want to burn down the woods they were in. He reached out for her hand, the one she had placed on his knee.

Sirianna looked at it and tried to remember when she lost the tip of her pinkie, found she couldn’t place it. Was it during her forced apparation? Was it before then? Had it been cut off in one of the experiments or —

“No idea,” Sirianna said in a rush, curling her fingers in to hide the painless injury from her brother. She smiled; breezy, confident, no fear. Harry didn’t need to see any nerves, Sirianna wouldn’t show them.

They were out and they needed to stay out. That was all.

“What’s… where are we going?” Harry asked. He coughed and it didn’t sound great, it sounded like he was going to be terribly sick and Sirianna imagined she could feel the headache she would have when he was sick.

They had always been like that, before. If Harry was sick, Sirianna imagined she was as well. If Sirianna was hurt, Harry would limp in sympathy. It was worse, since the experiments began.

Everything was worse, but they were free and Sirianna had to make herself think of how they would stay free.

“Hogwarts?” Harry asked and there was hope in his voice, hope that Sirianna squashed down inside of her.

They weren’t safe there, Harry wasn’t safe there. Had anyone there tried to find them, tried to rescue them? No. They left them and Sirianna couldn’t count on Hogwarts not sending them right back to the cages if they tried to return there.

What if that had always been the plan? What if the White Coats weren’t messing with her head but were being entirely honest? What if - what if - what if?

Harry wasn’t going back to Hogwarts and as much as it made Sirianna want to tear trees down with her bare fists then weep dramatically - it meant she wasn’t either.

“Hi. Um… I’m Ron. Ron Weasley.”

“Sirianna Potter.” Sirianna grinned as she offered Ron her hand then twisted it to do a fist bump that made him laugh. “Don’t call me Siri or we won’t be friends.”

“Not Hogwarts,” Sirianna said, hating it fiercely.

Harry didn’t blink, he only closed down on the hope that had creeped through his voice before.

“Surrey then.”

“No.” Sirianna didn’t need to think about that one. She would drag her brother to Hell before she let him step foot back in the Dursley’s house.

Maybe not Hell, exactly.

Harry huffed at her and he was so thin, so scarred. Sirianna could see patches of his head and her fingers itched to smooth away the unruly mess of hair he used to have. She missed his hair, his smile, everything that made him such a pain in her arse for their whole lives.

It wasn’t fair, to have that stolen from him - from them.

“Siri… we can’t go nowhere,” Harry said softly. “We have to go somewhere.”

“Why can’t we?” Sirianna asked, latching on to what Harry said. Nowhere. That was exactly where they should go - nowhere.

Nowhere wouldn’t care about Harry’s scar, their magic. Nowhere wouldn’t see them as rats to experiment on, to discard when their use dwindled.

Nowhere could be safe.

“Come on.” Sirianna pulled on Harry’s hand, deciding to simply plan as they walked. It was quiet enough that Sirianna could hear the flutter of her heart within her chest, the edges of panic beginning to creep in.

“Har…” Sirianna squeezed her brother’s hand in a wordless plea and he caved immediately.

“Once upon a time, there was a brave princess…”

Sirianna didn’t smile, didn’t think she could yet. If she could, she would have while Harry began whispering a make-believe story to break the silence they were wrapped up in. Sirianna led the way through the rest of the woods, forcing down the fear that tried to stop her.

It was fate, or something, that the building with the lights on that they had seen before was a - a…

“Bus,” Harry said, breaking his story to take in what Sirianna saw as a stroke of real luck. There was a whole line of buses, each one a dirty while color and ready to take passengers anywhere - nowhere.

“Bus,” Sirianna agreed. It was late, cold too, and Sirianna walked toward the station with purpose. They couldn’t stay where they were, they needed to move.

“Siri, wait.” Harry was the one to yank Sirianna to a halt before they walked in the glass doors of the station. Sirianna raised a brow at him, impatient to be on the move.

“You can’t walk in looking like that,” Harry hissed. He used his free hand to spit on the bottom hem of his shirt then tried to wipe Sirianna’s face with it.

“Ouch,” Sirianna hissed when Harry swiped over a bruise. “Be easy,” she complained.

“Wimp,” Harry breathed.

Sirianna Lily Potter was not a wimp, never had been. But it gave Harry a tiny spark of life in his eyes to call her that so she made herself roll her eyes while he finished cleaning her face off.

“Now you,” she said. It didn’t cross her mind to be anything except extra careful as she cleaned Harry’s face off… he had been hurt enough, Sirianna wouldn’t add to the pain and the grief that seemed to have aged him.

“Better.” Sirianna forced herself to smile as she cupped Harry’s face and she knew that they were free, that they could find a place to be safe, but it didn’t mean she wanted to let go of her baby brother anytime soon.

Never again, Sirianna swore that to herself underneath the lamp for the bus station in Merlin-knew-where. Never again would Sirianna let anyone separate them or torture her brother - Harry was her brother, her responsibility.

The seven minute age gap really was insurmountable.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked her, patiently waiting for Sirianna to get her act together.

Sirianna glanced at the doors and swallowed harshly. There would be people in there… Maybe not people in White Coats, but people all the same.

When was the last time that she saw someone aside from her brother and the White Coats? It had been…

“Paper in the bin said it’s October 1983.”

“Yeah?” Sirianna breathed and stared hard in Harry’s eyes, the bright green to her dark, and couldn’t help but to do the math automatically.

Nineteen Eighty-Three.

“Guess we missed our birthday,” Harry said quietly, his hand a grounding presence as Sirianna refused to fall apart.

Sirianna couldn’t open her mouth because then she would laugh at Harry’s over simplification of the situation. They hadn’t missed one birthday, they missed four.

“Four years,” Sirianna said, sounding faint even to her own ears. It felt like a lifetime… but four years?

They stole four years from Harry, four years from her.

Harry, once again proving that he could read her mind, tugged her to the door then held it open for her to enter.

“They stole four years, we’ll steal the rest of their lives,” he swore.

If Harry said it, he meant it. One day, when Harry had healed, when they were stronger… they would be the ones to put the White Coats in cages.

And that sounded just fine to Sirianna.

They walked inside the bus stop with their hands locked together. Harry cringed at the sounds of the customers who ran around and laughed and breathed so loudly. Sirianna curled her nose at the lights that felt obscenely bright to her.

And the people… the clothes…

Sirianna wanted to weep. There were girls that she walked past that looked so cool, so mature. They - they were… they had to be the same age, nearly. And Sirianna was scrawny, sickly looking. She didn’t need a mirror to know that, she only had to look to her twin.

It didn’t matter, Sirianna didn’t need to be cool and mature and pretty, she just… it was unfair and everything was overwhelming and Harry was talking about buses and —

“I don’t even know where we are,” Sirianna groaned. She kept looking over her shoulder, sure that any second one of the White Coats would appear and laugh, laugh that it was a trick and she failed and Harry was going to die for it.

“Siri, look.” Harry was so calm, Sirianna knew it was a lie, a mask that made her itch to wear. She did look where Harry pointed though and saw a map on the wall.

It took her a moment to realize what she had suspected for a while - they weren’t in England. They were in the States, in - in…

“Albany,” Harry sounded the word out slowly, his finger tracing the star that said ‘You Are Here’.

New York, they were in New York.

“When we’re all grown up, where should we go?” Harry laid on his back on the grounds of the lawn, his face tilted up to the sun while his eyes were closed.

Sirianna rolled on her back to mirror him and thought of all the places she wouldn’t go. She wouldn’t ever go back to Surrey, that was for sure.

“New York, maybe,” she said after thinking about it. New York sounded so glamorous, fun. There were lights and movie stars and endless excitement.

“Ugh.” Harry’s hand found hers even without either of them looking. They were mourning - big word for a deep sadness - their return to Privet Drive and Sirianna knew it was bothering Harry ten times as much as it was bothering her.

“I’ll hate New York,” Harry said. “But if we’re going to the States, I wanna go to Alaska. Theo’s book said it’s cold and nobody ever wants to live there.”

Sirianna hated the cold, which Harry knew. But Harry didn’t like a bunch of crowds either, so if he’d go to New York with her then she would go to Alaska with him.

“Deal.”

The world spun strangely, in a buzzing mixture of lights and laughter and time. Sirianna swayed with it and her eyes clenched closed, trying to fight the sickness that cramped her stomach.

“Indiana. Siri, there’s - there’s nowhere in Indiana.”

Sirianna breathed in deeply through her nose and forced her eyes open, just enough to see Harry peering at her as he pointed to one of the stations marked on the map.

“What?” she asked, croaking and overwhelmed by all of it.

“Have you ever even heard of Indiana?” Harry asked. Sirianna knew he was faking the enthusiasm in his voice, he was doing it for her because Sirianna was being a baby when she had to take care of her baby.

“I - no,” she said. The spinning slowed and Sirianna watched Harry’s chest rising and falling, steadily moving. Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall.

It kept her sane for so long, it needed to do the trick again.

“So that’s where we should go,” Harry told her. “I… I can get tickets.”

Sirianna didn’t question it, she knew he could. Harry could do anything he wanted - it should have been brilliant. Harry could be the most powerful wizard in the world… if he wasn’t a lab rat, a freak, four years.

If Harry had been given his four years to learn and to grow like other wizards… if Harry wasn’t only a product of what they made him… it would have been brilliant.

They walked together to the windows where it seemed as if tickets were being sold. There was an old lady in the booth who hardly spared a glance for them before asking where they were going.

“We’re going to Indiana and you’re going to give us two tickets,” Harry said quietly, his voice melodic and magical. “You’re going to forget we were ever here.”

“And - and some money,” Sirianna whispered quickly, spotting the drawer in front of the woman. They hadn’t eaten since - since… since that morning.

Their last meal, that was what the White Coat said when it was delivered.

Harry had to eat and Sirianna had seen little booths with bags of crisps and drinks and sweets she didn’t recognize. Anything was better than nothing and they would need money for it.

Harry nodded and added that to his suggestion to the woman. The woman looked perfectly pleasant as she printed off two white papers, tickets, and handed over a stack of green bills from the drawer.

“Next!” she called, her eyes glazing when she stared right past the twins.

Sirianna pulled Harry away quickly, her heart racing again at the casual way Harry could use his magic. It wasn’t like that for her, no matter how hard they tried.

The twins were practically identical - the same green eyes, black hair. They were the same height (and Sirianna hated that, hated that she knew Harry should be taller), they used to sound exactly the same. It was only Harry’s scar that used to make them different, less identical.

Harry’s scar, Harry’s power, Harry’s refusal to scream… Merlin, Sirianna sometimes thought she could never measure up to Harry - she didn’t need to. 

Sirianna took the tickets and studied them, looked for a clock, looked at the tickets, looked around the station to be sure they were still alone. There were people - dressed brightly, laughing, so normal - but nobody in a White Coat.

“We’ve got twenty minutes,” Sirianna said, judging it the best she could. Her head was aching and as the rush of escapement began to fade, exhaustion was hitting hard.

“Long enough to get food?” Harry asked. He grimaced at the bills the woman gave him and passed them quickly to Sirianna. “I don’t - my eyes hurt, Siri.”

Sirianna knew they did, she could feel the ache in her own eyes. Harry was falling apart quickly as his own rush faded and they still had to move.

“Okay, let me look.” Sirianna took the green bills and was relieved that they weren’t terribly different from pounds, they were similar enough to the notes that Petunia would give her to pick up groceries.

The lady had given them three bills, each with the number twenty on them. So… so sixty pounds. That was a lot, enough for them to get food before it was time to leave on the bus.

Sirianna bought them a drink to share, a bag of crisps each, and a chocolate bar she tried to make Harry eat. Harry refused to eat it if she didn’t and he split it in half just as they had always done.

“Don’t eat too quickly,” Sirianna warned Harry. She had only sipped the fizzy drink and eaten one crisp and she already felt sick to her stomach. The White Coats had never given them anything like that, never anything with so much sugar.

Harry nodded absently while he nibbled on his half of the chocolate bar. His eyes were busy watching every person in the station, hungrily drinking in the details and warily checking to ensure they didn’t get too close.

Sirianna watched Harry, Harry watched everyone. They stayed like that the entire time, neither of them able to stomach more than a few bites of the flavorful and sugary food. When there was a voice over the announcements, stating the bus for Indianapolis, Indianapolis had arrived, they both tucked their food in the waistband of their sweats and walked toward the bus.

Away from the White Coats.

Away from the torments and horror.

Away from four years of their lives that could never be replaced.

Sirianna didn’t know what they walked toward… but she knew that it had to be better than what they left. It had to be, Harry had to be safe.

Sirianna glanced at the glowing sign on the bus as she lead her brother up the stairs of it. In a moment of silly superstition, Sirianna reached up and touched the glowing letters for a split-second.

Indiana.

Indiana sounded like a nowhere place, full of towns that would be nowhere. Nowhere, Indiana would be safe, obscure. Nowhere, Indiana would be where Sirianna could keep Harry safe.

Chapter Text

When they were little, they would play a game.

Harry would bend his fingers around, twisting them together then pushing his palms out, to make a butterfly appear on the wall. Siri couldn’t make a butterfly, but she did make a bunny rabbit. They would name their characters, give them silly stories.

“Benny the Butterfly,” Harry whispered, never wanting to wake Vernon or Petunia up. Harry wiggled his hands, making Benny fly on the wall of the bedroom they shared. “Benny wants to be a famous singer when he’s all grown up. He told his friends he was gonna be, but they said he’s a bad singer. Benny doesn’t care, he’s gonna be really famous and everyone will love him.”

“Benny can go to the West End with Razza.” Siri hopped her hand along in the light that creeped in through the boards on their window. “Razza is the prettiest bunny in the whole world. She’s going to be in movies and she’s going to be rich and buy pretty necklaces and dresses. Every day she’ll buy a new dress and go out to fancy restaurants to eat.”

“Can - Can Benny come?” Harry made Benny fly over to Razza so they could eat together. “Benny wants to buy pretty things too.”

“But Benny is a butterfly!” Siri giggled and it made Harry giggle. “Benny’s already pretty!”

It changed, later.

Harry’s fingers would be bloodied and swollen, abused from the lock on his door, the rough metal of the bars he couldn’t open. They looked broken, his fingers. Did Harry break them? Or did They?

Did it matter anymore?

Harry’s fingers would be difficult to move, not as graceful as they once were. He would still do it though, when They wouldn’t let Harry and Siri in the same cage.

It was a punishment, Harry couldn’t get anything right - couldn’t get them the answers They wanted. He didn’t know what they were, he would tell them if he could.

“Benny,” Harry would whisper, his eyes dry but his body screaming inside as he made a butterfly that would reflect where Siri could see. Harry couldn’t be Harry anymore, he didn’t want Siri to see Harry. She could see Benny though, he was safe.

Sometimes Siri would be the first one to bring Razza out to invite Benny to ‘frolic in the field’. Sometimes Harry would have to whisper his way through a story while his head pounded and his body screamed for relief.

It was better, when they were Harry and Siri and they were together. When they couldn’t be, Benny and Razza lived a million lives together through countless adventures and they always ended up safe and happy.

“Har?” Siri shook Harry and he blinked, his eyelids didn’t want to open back up. When they did, when Harry remembered they had to, the shadow puppets he had been watching while the bus quietly drove along were gone.

The puppets were gone and the bus was nearly empty. There had been more people before… when they left, there were more people.

“You’re okay. Come on.” Siri snuck her arm under Harry’s and pulled on him, it was time to stand up. Harry wouldn’t budge until he reached in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him and took out their leftover food.

Siri hadn’t eaten much, she would get hungry. She couldn’t think when she was hungry, she had to think because Harry thought he might die soon and Siri would need to think about what to do when that happened.

Harry stayed behind Siri and it was thoughtless, it was too easy, to cast his magic out, making sure nobody paid too much attention to them - to her. They had to see them, they had to, or else they would trample them and Siri would be crushed under boots, broken and bleeding and —

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

It was probably worse.

Harry wanted to ask Siri where they were, but he waited until they were off the bus. If he couldn’t figure it out, he’d ask. If there weren’t any signs to tell him where he was - he would ask then.

Oh, Indianapolis. Harry saw a sign when they unloaded from the bus. There were people that got close enough to brush him, close enough to make him sweat, and Harry didn’t want Siri to get upset.

“In 1974, Indiana had a super outbreak of tornadoes,” Harry told his sister in a rush as he clung to her back in an attempt to escape the feeling of strangers brushing him and touching him. “We were five.”

When they were five, there was a super outbreak of tornadoes in Indiana.

Siri was focused on something, a destination she had in her mind that Harry couldn’t see.

“How many tornadoes did they have, Har?” she murmured.

“A super outbreak?!” Harry couldn’t believe it. “I wonder how many that is!”

“It said they had more than one hundred!” Theo told him, pushing the book to Harry so he could read about it. Theo’s eyes were really round, Harry liked that he was excited about it too. Tornadoes were awful and they could smash all of Privet Drive if they were big enough.

“It killed 335 people!!” Harry said, pointing at the line where the book told him that.

When Harry was five, 335 people died in Indiana from a super outbreak of tornadoes.

“More than one hundred,” Harry told Siri. “Three hundred and thirty-five people died.”

“That’s a lot.”

There had been a blizzard too, in Indiana. In 1978. When Harry was nine, there was a blizzard in Indiana and it reshaped how weather emergencies were responded to across the country. They called it the Cleveland Superbomb… when Harry was nine.

Harry didn’t tell Siri about that, she was busy. Harry just thought about it to himself, how something that looked so pretty and innocent could turn into a horrible historical event that destroyed homes and lives. There were roads that had to be rebuilt, people froze to death.

Snowflakes were so pretty, each one was meant to be perfectly unique. Rain drops would be unique too, each one a different size and weight as it fell - statistically there would have to be two that were the exact same size and the exact same weight and nobody knew it because they couldn’t see them when they landed.

Anyone could see a snowflake for a second, one quick blink, when it landed on their finger. The raindrop splattered, it couldn’t survive the impact with a body even if it was a tiny little fingertip.

Raindrops would touch Harry and fall apart. Snowflakes would melt. Flesh could melt off the muscles in a body if it was heated enough - flesh could bubble and boil like a pot of water when it was ready to add the pasta.

Harry looked down at his leg, checking that the flesh was still there, and he couldn’t see it because there were gray sweatpants covering his legs. Harry could feel the fibers rubbing on his skin, no longer an itch. It meant he had skin, it wasn’t going to bubble off.

It wouldn’t, not again.

Harry wouldn’t put his legs in a fire, he didn’t want to see his flesh bubble away and then regrow all wrong.

“We shouldn’t stay here, it’s too… you won’t like it, Har.”

No, Harry wouldn’t like Indianapolis. It wasn’t safe anyway, there were too many people - too much magic. Harry could feel it under his skin, a warm prickle to remind him that they weren’t alone, they shouldn’t stay there.

“Okay.” Harry lifted his head and it was so hard to do, he just wanted to rest it on something soft so he could sleep, for a little while.

“264 was the record set by a muggle. See what he can do.”

In 1964, a muggle stayed awake for 264 hours and set a record. Harry didn’t know what year it was, but he knew that he stayed awake for 308.5 hours before he was allowed to rest for a couple of hours.

“You’re tired.” Harry could tell his sister was exhausted, she didn’t feel great to him, in the place where she rested in his chest. If Harry focused only on that spot, if he ignored everything his body screamed out, then he could feel exhaustion that wasn’t his and a headache behind his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Siri lied. That was her favorite lie - ‘I’m fine’. She always said it when she was the least fine.

If Harry was lying then he was fine too.

Siri wanted Harry to help her pick a place on the giant map of Indiana for them to travel to. Indiana was Nowhere, the whole state. They could go anywhere and still be Nowhere.

Harry looked at the map, starting at the dot where they were. Indianapolis was too big, they couldn’t hide in the chaos there because the chaos would find them. Harry’s eyes traveled away from the dot of Where They Are and circled as he took in the other cities and towns.

Not Fort Wayne - too big. Greenwood didn’t sound great, green was the color of almost everything bad in the world. Terre Haute could be called Terrible Haute and Harry didn’t want to be somewhere terrible again.

One name stood out to him, reminded him of —

“Wow!” Harry knew his jaw dropped and he didn’t mean to, it was just that Theo’s bird was amazing! “Is that an owl?!”

“No.” Theo grinned, not a mean grin, maybe embarrassed and a little pleased. He stroked the wings of the bird that brought him the newspaper and even kissed its sharp looking beak. “This is Nyx, she’s a hawk. She can fly up to two hundred miles an hour!”

“Wicked!” Harry cried, delighted. He slowly let his fingers get closer to Nyx, hoping she would let him pet her. She was pretty - not as pretty as Hedwig, but Harry liked her feathers that were as dark as his hair.

“Hawks are better for delivering mail because they’ll kill anyone who tries to steal it,” Theo gushed. “Owls are predators too, but a hawk could kill a muggle, maybe even a wizard.”

Harry didn’t think the Daily Prophet was worth killing anyone over, but he did begin to wish he had a hawk as well.

“Hawkins,” Harry said, pointing at the small print on the map. He traced the bus route and nodded when he saw that it didn’t even stop there. That meant it was Nowhere.

Siri wanted to be Nowhere and Harry wondered what Theo was doing.

“Do you - do you have a good feeling or something?” Siri asked. Harry could feel her looking at him sideways, wondering what made him pick it. There were lots of small print on the map, no shortage of places they could go.

They would find them, They said They could. Harry believed them; every time he escaped in his mind They brought him back.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I have a good feeling.”

“Brilliant then!” Siri was pretending to be happy, Harry pretended with her as she pulled him along by the hand. She started talking about cabs and buses and clothes and was Harry hungry?

Harry was not hungry, Harry was dying and he knew that when someone was dying that their body stopped asking for food and began asking for their sister.

“Siri…?”

“Subject Zero-Seven has experienced complete organ death. Record that.”

“Later,” Harry said. They were outside and it was noisy, even if it was late. People didn’t sleep in Indianapolis it seemed. Harry’s eyes swept around the lot at the cars and music and people laughing.

It felt like they were all looking at him - laughing.

Freak.

“Harry, can you…?” Siri wiggled her fingers at a taxi car and Harry nodded.

He could. He could do anything probably.

Siri led them across the lot and Harry pushed his magic out, keeping them from getting smashed by a car. The cars honked and people screamed and Harry hated it.

“You kids need a ride?” The driver of the taxi watched them approach and Harry stared in his eyes… let himself drift toward the man…

“We need you to give us a ride to Hawkins, Indiana,” Harry said, infusing every word with magic. “You’ll drop us off and forget you ever saw us. You’ll forget you ever traveled there. You were at the bus station then you went straight home.”

It worked - it almost always did.

“Do it. Do it NOW!”

Harry was shaking, shivering in his chair and refusing to look at Siri. She was strapped down across from him and her eyes were watering, tears spilled down on her cheeks and she said it was okay - do it - do it, Har. It’s okay.

There was a wand at Siri's temple and They told him what would happen. He did it or Siri would pay the price.

“Say - say hello,” Harry told her, keeping his magic coiled up tightly inside of him. Just say it, Siri. Say hello, go back to the room they could share if they performed right.

“Hello,” Siri said at once.

“No.” They flicked their wand and Siri was screaming - she was screaming and it was loud and Harry’s chest was on fire and he couldn’t cover his ears because his hands were trapped and Siri was screaming.

“Something else.” They smiled, not because They were happy. “Order her to hit you.”

Siri whimpered and slumped down in her chair when the curse ended and her straps were removed. Siri wouldn’t hit Harry, she wouldn’t. She never hit him, not even when they were little.

“Don’t,” Siri said then. Before she said to do it, just do it. Then she said don’t but if Harry didn’t make her hurt him then they were going to hurt her and that wasn’t much of a choice.

Harry looked his sister in the eyes and let his magic reach out to her, to comfort her even as it commanded her.

“Hit me,” Harry said.

It worked - it almost always did.

The taxi pulled over at a sign in the middle of nowhere.

Entering Hawkins

They were entering Hawkins.

“Thank you,” Siri told the driver who had no choice. She left one of the notes on the front seat and then pulled Harry from the car. He stumbled, his legs were shutting down and refusing to move anymore.

“Alright, Har, we… we should find somewhere to rest, okay?” Siri sounded like her words were slurred, her tongue was too large for her mouth. She was past tired, her energy was entirely sapped which meant that Harry needed to step up - to do something - DO SOMETHING.

“Do we still have money?” Harry asked. He kept them cloaked in the shadows, unnoticed by anyone that might travel down the dirt road they walked together. If they had money they could find a motel or somewhere that Siri could curl up on her side and sleep. If they found a place with a bed then she could stretch her legs out and Harry would make sure nobody would bother them.

“Yeah, we do.”

Harry nodded and thought about what all money could buy while they walked and he searched for a place for Siri to rest. Money could buy big houses with large beds. Money could buy food and clothes. Money could buy hawks.

Money could not buy a smile for Siri, but money could buy a bed and that bed might make her smile.

It was important, to have money.

They walked longer than Harry thought they would have to before he found a little house, not a big one, with a light flickering in the window. Siri was dragging her feet which meant Harry had to - he had to knock on the door.

Siri asked if it was safe and it wasn’t, there was a person inside. The person wasn’t a wizard though, of that Harry was sure.

Which meant they were unsafe but not as unsafe as Harry.

Harry had to knock three times - knock, knock. knock, knock. knock, knock. - before heavy footsteps began approaching the door. Harry was going to ask them to let them pay for a bed, then make them if they said no.

Siri needed to sleep.

“What?” The door was thrown open and Harry pushed Siri back when a man, a large man, glared at them.

Harry felt the shivering in his stomach, felt his brain going quiet. He had to speak though, had to see if money could buy a bed.

“We have money,” Harry told him, watching his hands and not his eyes yet. Not yet. “Can we - can we buy a bed?”

Harry could stay awake, Siri needed sleep.

“Do I look like a fuckin — hey, kid? You good?”

Harry looked at Siri, was she good? But Siri was watching Harry and she shook her head, reaching out for the cursed cut that wouldn’t heal. It might heal, later, but it would take longer than normal.

“He’s hurt and we just need a place to sleep for a couple of hours,” Siri told the man, her thumb soothing an ache on Harry’s cheek while his chest throbbed internally at her own pains. “Please? We’ll pay you.”

“I… son of a bitch. You two runaways or something?”

They were runaways and something.

“Sir, please?” Siri asked him.

The man sighed and Harry could see his chest heaving from the sigh. If he said no, Harry would have to make him. It almost always worked and Harry could stay awake for 308.5 hours.

The further they were, the less sure Harry was that anything was entirely real. Was the man real? Was it a trick? Would Harry open his eyes and hear his sister screaming because Harry escaped in his head again?

“Come in.” The man sounded gruff and unhappy, but he backed up so that they could enter his little house. It smelled bad, like something stale and something greasy.

The ache in Harry’s chest flared up and then it was easier to breathe when they were inside the house and the man closed the door and asked their names. Harry wouldn’t tell him his name, he didn’t think he would have remembered it if Siri didn’t whisper it to him at night.

“It’s okay, Harry. It’s okay. We’ll - we’ll get out, one day, okay? It’s okay.”

“I’m Lily, my brother is James,” Siri lied. “Can we sleep for a couple of hours?”

“Your brother needs a hospital, kid.” The man tried to kneel down by Harry and Harry stepped backward, pulling Siri with him.

Harry’s eyes roamed around the room while Siri bargained with the man - they didn’t need a hospital, no doctor. No, nobody was after them (a lie). If they could sleep then they would pay him or Siri could clean up because, no offense, sir, but this place could use it. The little house was messy, there were cans scattered on a table and a pile of clothes in front of a telly.

There was white and Harry didn’t let go of Siri while she continued talking, he pulled her with him to check because They wore white and the man wasn’t a wizard but some of Them weren’t either.

“Are you a chef?” Siri asked when Harry snatched the white and held it up. It was a stained apron, chefs wore them to keep their clothes neat. Some of them could even be flame protectant, in case of a kitchen fire.

“I got a restaurant,” the man said. “In fact, I should go there soon. I’ll make you two a deal, huh? You sleep while I go get the kitchen set up and after the breakfast rush, we can talk more about a hospital.”

Siri could sleep.

“Deal,” Harry said, dropping the apron down in the pile of clothes. Harry didn’t want to talk about hospitals, he wouldn’t go to one and neither would Siri, but the man leaving and Siri sleeping was a deal.

The man said something about his bed, a shower, and a couch. Harry wasn’t listening, he just heard Siri telling him thank you - thank you, thank you, thank you.

“Har? Do you want to sleep on the couch or the bed?”

Harry looked at the sofa and didn’t think it was very big, not big enough for Siri to stretch her legs out. It was also in the middle of the room and anyone could walk in from anywhere.

“The bed,” Harry decided. He turned in the direction the man had pointed and gently pulled Siri along. The bed would probably smell bad, like the house, but Siri wouldn’t care and Harry could already feel the wound in his chest beginning to float away.

The bed was big, big enough to take up almost the entire bedroom. Siri closed the door and immediately flopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh. Harry stayed by the door and waited until he heard heavy footsteps leaving the house - shutting the door gently - then Harry blinked at the heavy metal safe in the corner of the room.

Siri made a hum from where she was curled up on the bed when the safe silently slid across the floor to block the door. There was still a window, but Harry could poke his sister until she scooted away from the window, leaving Harry a good view of it from where he curled behind Siri.

“We did it, Har,” Siri whispered. Her breathing was slowing down and she was going to be asleep soon. “We did it.”

They did do it… they escaped.

Harry only wondered why They let them. 

Chapter Text

Sirianna used to dream, she used to dream all the time. When she was very little and locked in the bedroom with Harry, she would dream about buying a great big house and giving Harry half of the house to fill with toys and snacks and books. Then Sirianna would have half of the house and she would fill her half with fifty boyfriends - each more handsome than the last - and maybe even a whole bunch of kids.

Sirianna would sometimes dream about motorcycles that could fly, explosions of green light, and a woman who would sing the softest lullabies to her.

The White Coats did something, they broke something inside of her, and Sirianna didn’t dream anymore. It was a relief, mostly, because her dreams had changed to nightmares and wasn’t real life terrible enough? It was another form of torture though because Sirianna couldn’t hear lullabies in her sleep, couldn’t see her brother in his half of her mansion with mountains and mountains of books.

It meant that when Sirianna woke up in a strange bed, in a strange place, there were no lingering dreams clouding her mind.

“Har?” Sirianna whispered her brother’s name, unsure if he was asleep or not. She could feel him curled behind her, his face buried on the back of her neck.

“‘M here,” Harry murmured. He sounded awful, miserable, sick.

Sirianna didn’t like the idea that she had slept for… she squinted at the light coming through the windows and thought it must be at least noon… so long while Harry kept himself awake.

“Go to sleep.” Sirianna rolled over and kissed Harry’s forehead, pressing hard so he had to know she was there. “You’re safe, Bubby.”

A muscle twitched in Harry’s cheek as his eyes closed, the lashes dusting on the dark purple bags beneath his eyes. Was his skin a little yellow? Sirianna had never thought so before, but he didn’t look well in sunlight.

“I love you,” Sirianna reminded him, though she knew that he knew.

“Love you.” Harry’s hand tightened on Sirianna’s and she wondered if he had clutched it all night, knew he would have. Sirianna laid with him until his grip slackened and his breathing evened out…

Harry didn’t look well and Sirianna wouldn’t let anyone take him to a hospital, but maybe she didn’t have to. The man who gave up his bed to them, Benny Hammond, had said Harry needed to see a doctor. Maybe - maybe he knew one?

It was worth checking into.

Sirianna slipped off the bed and looked around the bedroom, curious about the place. It was dirty, as Sirianna had noticed the night before. While Harry slipped away to his own sleep, Sirianna began sifting through Benny Hammond’s closet and dressers.

Benny was a large man, nothing of his seemed as if it would fit Sirianna in the slightest. She did take a black shirt of his and eagerly swapped her grey sweater out for it. Sirianna looked down at herself in the oversized shirt, not caring at all.

It wasn’t grey.

When was the last time she had worn something that wasn’t grey?

In her excitement, Sirianna also tore off the dirty socks that she had been wearing. She stuffed them in a bin near the bed and took a pair of Benny’s socks, huge white ones, and pulled them up to cover as much of the grey sweatpants as possible.

Sirianna felt giggly on the inside as it sunk in. She was free, Harry was free. They were gone! The White Coats had planned to discard them, to dispose of them after over three years of torment, and they were free.

Actually, Sirianna looked at the door of the bedroom and frowned at the giant metal safe blocking it, they were kind of free. They were out of their cages, away from the White Coats.

Sirianna needed to make sure that Harry was healthy enough to enjoy the freedom.

After struggling some to move the safe away from the door, Sirianna slipped through a small parting to search the rest of the house for Benny. He had seemed nice enough, maybe a bit simple, when they met the night before. Harry didn’t blink much at him, so Sirianna assumed the man was non-magical.

Anyone could be a threat, but Sirianna thought that her chances against a man without magic of his own were rather good. Good enough that when she saw two plates sitting on a beaten down dining table, she only sniffed them a few times before testing out a bite of the leafy greens.

Oooh, it was heavenly.

Sirianna quickly stuffed more of the greens in her mouth before continuing her search. She could eat when Harry saw a doctor, someone to heal him and help him and Merlin, he couldn’t die. Not when they were finally free.

There was nobody else in the house, it didn’t take Sirianna long to determine that. What had Benny said? Something about a restaurant and they would talk at lunch?

Sirianna warily opened the back door of the house, the one sandwiched between a stove and refrigerator in the messy kitchen. She stopped in front of the opened door and her hands moved behind her back, her fingers lacing together, while she waited.

Harry didn’t wake up. There weren’t any alarms. Nobody shot a spell at her.

So Sirianna took a tiny step in the sunlight.

It hit her as hard as the clothes she wore did. The warmth, the air that tasted better, tasted like leaves and home. Sirianna’s skin prickled with the sensation of real, honest to magic real sunlight touching her face for the first time in… in… in four years, apparently.

Sirianna tipped her face upward and couldn’t inhale the air fast enough, couldn’t get enough of the sun that was real and good and made her think of quidditch on the pitch and hopscotch boards drawn with nubs of charcoal.

“Is that my shirt?”

Sirianna jumped. She had been close to tears while memories washed over her as vividly as the sunlight did. She never noticed the man in the back lawn, the one sitting in a red chair, staring at her while he smoked a fag.

Benny Hammond was a large man, but it wasn’t just his waist. Benny was tall, he had thick muscles in his arms and a bushy brown beard that looked rather clean despite his soiled shirt.

It was his eyes that Sirianna had noticed the night before, blue eyes. They weren’t cold and they didn’t gaze through Sirianna as if she were no longer a human.

“My brother, he’s sick,” Sirianna said, refusing to shy away from him in any uncertainty. He had mentioned a hospital before, he must know of a doctor. They had medicines, normal medicines, that Harry could get.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Benny said. He didn’t sound angry, not even properly curious. “You ready to take ‘im to a hospital?”

Sirianna crossed her arms over her chest and took a small step further from the house, closer to Benny.

“He doesn’t like hospitals,” she said carefully, her mind thinking of cages and machines and magic that could destroy a body and then piece it back together. “I wondered if you knew a doctor that might bring him medicine? I could pay you.”

“That’s definitely my shirt,” Benny said when Sirianna was an arms length away from the door. “Your brother needs a real doctor, kid. You do too, by the looks of it.”

Sirianna was fine. She was sore, maybe, not as sore as she could be. There was sunshine warming her arms and she had half of a chocolate bar and a bag of crisps in the waistband of her sweatpants. Sirianna was fine, but Harry didn’t look well.

“Look.” Benny sighed and puffed on his smoke before flicking it to a large pile of discarded ones by a rubbish bin. Sirianna watched it, waiting to see if it would catch on fire, then looked away once it only burned itself out.

It wasn’t strong enough to catch on fire.

“You kids look like hell, you show up here at the ass crack of dawn trying to rent a bedroom like I’m some fucking motel. You don’t have any shoes on, your brother looks like he went ten rounds with Sugar Ray. What we need to do here is call Children’s Services then take the two of you to a hospital.”

Sirianna stepped backward, closer to the house. She was afraid of that, afraid that Benny would be insistent. Sirianna wanted to let Harry sleep, but they would need him to make Benny forget they ever existed.

Harry said he had a good feeling about Hawkins, but Sirianna wouldn’t mind finding another town and trying again.

“Sure,” Sirianna said, nodding her head like she agreed. “I’ll just get my brother then…”

“Hey, stop.”

Sirianna hated that her feet automatically stopped moving. Stop or you’ll be cursed. Stop or we’ll hurt him. Stop.

Sirianna stopped and then hated herself for stopping and swung the full force of her glare on Benny Hammond who was a chef and threw rubbish right next to an empty bin.

“You are not taking him anywhere,” Sirianna yelled as loudly as she dared. Harry was sleeping, she didn’t want to wake him yet. She would have to soon and she hated that, but he needed to be safe more than he needed to sleep in a bed.

“If you touch him I will kill you,” Sirianna swore, the only warning she would give. She wrapped her arms back around her stomach and clutched the shirt that was not grey to herself. “And I’m keeping this shirt.”

Benny didn’t try to stand up, they only stared at each other. Sirianna wanted to be cold and terrifying, worse than the White Coats had ever been. Benny raised his eyebrows up toward his balding head and then sighed as he broke the eye contact.

“I’m gonna guess you’re, what? Fifteen? Sixteen?” Benny nodded to himself when Sirianna said nothing to confirm or deny it. “I’m gonna make another guess here, you tell me if I’m right. Shitty parents? You two ran off?”

Sirianna said nothing.

“Yeah, thought so.” Benny huffed and looked up at the sky himself, raising his eyes like there would be answers in the clouds. “Alright, kid, I can make you a deal.”

A deal?

“What kind of deal?” Sirianna asked.

“You answer a couple of my questions and I know a nurse that could come check your brother out,” Benny said. “You don’t wanna answer? I’ll call Children’s Services, let them sort this out.”

Sirianna could answer some questions, if it meant that Harry could get medicine.

“Okay…” Sirianna looked behind her at the house quickly, wondering if it wouldn’t be safer to just take Harry and leave.

But it would be like that anywhere, Sirianna told herself, fighting to push down the worries that gnawed up the inside of her stomach like acid. People asked questions, that was normal…

Nothing said that Sirianna had to answer them truthfully.

“Fine.” Sirianna sat down on the grass and scooted backward until her back rested against the back door, blocking Benny from charging past her. “What questions?”

Benny leaned back in the red chair and fixed his gaze on Sirianna, taking his time to start with his questions.

“It’s a strange accent,” he started with. “Where you from?”

Sirianna mashed her lips shut immediately and glared while she tried to think of something to say.

“Albany, that’s in New York,” she said, deciding it was the safest answer. The White Coats weren’t in Albany, that she knew of. There was nobody in Albany that would know them if Benny were to try and contact them.

“Alright, that’s a start,” Benny said, grinning crookedly at Sirianna and disarming her with his - his acceptance. “I’m guessing if I asked what your parents' names are, you wouldn’t tell me, huh?”

Sirianna shook her head; no, she wouldn’t. Partially because she had already used her parents’ names as theirs and partially because Lily and James Potter were too well-known. It was something she wished she had remembered the night before… she should have invented entirely new names.

“You can just tell me yes or no, kid, you don’t gotta go in specifics, but…” Benny leaned forward and Sirianna couldn’t help but think his eyes seemed kind. Sirianna hadn’t seen kind eyes that weren’t green in years.

“They hurt you two?” Benny asked her.

Did her parents hurt her? No. They had died for Sirianna and Harry, they protected her. Lily Potter used to sing lullabies and scream in Sirianna’s dreams, James Potter had been a chaser on the same team that Sirianna was a seeker for.

They were the only people who had never hurt her, never hurt Harry.

“Yes,” Sirianna lied, hating herself that much more. Benny looked away when a tear dropped from the corner of Sirianna’s eyes and she ducked her head to wipe it away.

“Alright, kid. I’ll call a nurse to check on your brother. I know someone, he won’t ask too many questions.”

Sirianna couldn’t be too sorry that she lied about people who had loved her, who had never hurt her, not if it meant that Harry would get help.

Benny said that he had to return to his restaurant and told Sirianna to go inside and eat while she waited for the nurse to arrive. It wasn’t a hardship for Sirianna to go back inside the house and grab both plates of food to take to the bedroom. It was something of a struggle to slip in the small wedge she had made without spilling the food, but she managed it.

Harry was curled in a ball on the bed, his legs twitching while he slept. Sirianna wondered what he dreamed about, if he ever had any good dreams or if they were all taken by the White Coats and their experiments.

One day, Harry would have good things to dream about, Sirianna swore it to herself.

While Harry slept, Sirianna picked at the food that Benny must have left just for them. She didn’t eat much, though she did eat all of the greens that were on the plate. They had flavor to them, like real food did before. Since she was awake, Sirianna did work on moving the big safe to the part of the room that looked too clean without it. It would be a hard question to answer if someone asked how the safe had been moved… best to avoid it altogether.

Sirianna planned to stay awake until the nurse arrived with Benny, but she curled up under the thick blanket with Harry and counted his breaths until she too fell asleep.

“Lily? Hey, Lily.”

Sirianna bolted upright when someone grabbed her - it was her turn, her turn. She started clawing, knowing it would bring her more pain later and not caring. If she could bring one drop of the pain she felt, that Harry felt, to the White Coats then it would be worth it.

“Hey! Hey! Jesus fucking Christ!”

Sirianna didn’t stop at the rough voice or the unfamiliar swear, she stopped when her brother’s hand curled around her elbow, soft and familiar.

“You’re not there,” Harry said, his voice rough with sleep.

Sirianna twisted to see Harry, saw him sitting up in a bed with his hair ruffled from pillows that were really the softest thing she had ever felt. There was light spilling in, yellow light from a sun instead of the blinding white lights that almost never dimmed.

They were free, they were…

“Oh.” The fight fled from Sirianna when everything caught up in her mind. They were in Hawkins, at Benny Hammond’s house. Which meant that it wasn’t a White Cost that Sirianna attacked, but a man who said he would get Harry medicine.

“My buddy is out here, he doesn’t ask a lot of questions.”

When Sirianna turned back to Benny, he was already leaving the room.

“Buddy?” Harry asked as soon as the door closed behind Benny. “What buddy?”

“A nurse,” Sirianna told him, redirecting her attention to her brother. Harry looked… he looked better, actually. The gash on his cheek, the one that wouldn’t stop bleeding, had finally began to crust over with a scab. Sirianna touched his cheek, felt the warmth of his skin, thought that even the horrible yellow had started to fade away.

Harry’s pupils, the black circles in the center of his eyes, were huge though, so big that Sirianna almost couldn’t see the green.

“You’re sick, Har,” Sirianna told him quietly, a whisper just for his ears. “Benny said that he would have a nurse come look at you, give you medicine to get you better.”

“Medicine?” Harry pulled his head away, not enough that Sirianna wasn’t still cupping his jaw. “Like potions? I’m not taking them.”

They did that, the White Coats. They had been there forever, Sirianna didn’t believe that anyone was coming for them anymore.

Sirianna thought they would die there, wondered if it would be better for Harry than the daily testing.

For a long time, they tested potions on them. They would make them both drink the same potion, write down the side-effects. Eventually they made it a game, a sick game that made Sirianna wish they would kill them instead.

One day, Sirianna would be forced to drink a potion that burned her from the inside out, made it feel like something was tearing away her innards. The White Coats would watch Harry, they would make a note of his every reaction.

The next day Harry would drink the potion and Sirianna would scream - it was the worst yet, everything hurt. Sirianna would scream and cry for her mum, Ron, Professor McGonagall, anyone to end the pain.

Anyone, Sirianna would cry for anyone, to end the pain.

“Not potions,” Sirianna said firmly. Never potions. “Non-magical medicine, Har. Like - like tablets? Remember? The ones Aunt Petunia would give Dudley when he was sick?”

Harry nodded slowly and Sirianna didn’t know if he remembered or if he was only trusting her.

“Har, I’m never going to let anyone hurt you ever again,” Sirianna swore. She gripped Harry’s cheek with her fingertips for a second, not hard enough to hurt him but enough to break through to him. “Never,” she repeated.

Over Sirianna’s dead body would anyone hurt Harry - and maybe not even then.

Sirianna thought one of the unstained shirts in Benny’s closet and a fresh pair of socks might make Harry less nervous about seeing the nurse. Sirianna herself was worried, worried that there had been no kindness in Benny’s and they would leave the room only to find a White Coat.

The thought nearly paralyzed her, it stopped her in front of the door with her hand outstretched for the knob. What if Harry had been wrong and Benny was a wizard after all?

“You’re sure that Benny isn’t a wizard?” Sirianna asked Harry.

Harry nodded and he looked so sweet in the baggy shirt that hung down to his knees, the dark blue made him look even better than he did. He might not have needed a nurse, what if Sirianna put Harry in danger for no reason?

“He’s not,” Harry said. “You’re safe, Siri.”

Harry was so powerful, so much better with magic than any wizard before. If he said that Benny wasn’t a wizard, then Sirianna had to hope that he didn’t know how to contact the White Coats.

If she was wrong then she would have to be ready to run faster than she ever had before.

The two of them left the bedroom with their hands tightly gripped between them. Sirianna could hear Benny talking from the front room and she walked slowly toward the room. There was another voice, a rough voice of a man.

Sirianna held Harry back behind her as she peeked in the room, checking that it was safe to enter. Benny was in there, leaning casually against the doorframe that separated the front door from the front room. On the lumpy sofa was a man, an old grizzly looking man who wore a faded brown shirt, only a few shades lighter than his long and tangled looking beard.

“This is a nurse?” Sirianna demanded, her flash of hot anger driving her in the room. The man wasn’t a nurse, he wasn’t a White Coat either.

“I was.” The man started to stand up and he had - he had a hunch in his back! Sirianna could beat him in a fight without magic! He was just an old man!

“First Sergeant Langley,” the old man said. He offered Sirianna a gnarled looking hand. “Registered Nurse for the United States Army. Pleasure, Miss.”

Sirianna did not shake his hand. She instead glared at Benny who was not holding up his end of the deal.

“I can call someone else,” Benny offered with a shoulder shrugged up. “They might have some calls they wanna make though.”

Sirianna hated him.

“If you hurt my brother at all I will kill you,” Sirianna warned the old man, First Sergeant Langley, in a hissed promise. Sirianna didn’t have a lot of options - though having any options at all was thrilling in its own way… - and Harry needed checked over.

An old man Army nurse would have to work.

Langley laughed, a wheezy sound, and looked over his shoulder at Benny.

“I can see what you mean,” he said. “She’s got fire, don’t she?”

Sirianna could show them fire, if she had to.

Benny made a hum and Sirianna could feel his eyes watching while she pulled Harry in the room, telling him with her eyes that it was okay, he would be okay. Harry shuffled in, he would follow Sirianna anywhere and sometimes that made her want to scream, and he looked at Benny, looked at Langley, looked at Sirianna.

“Ar, let me look at you, son.” Langley hobbled over and Sirianna thought she could feel Harry’s heart beat picking up through his grip on her hand. Langley peered at Harry and it was so ridiculous, because he was almost the same height as they were.

“Headache?” Langley asked Harry, squinting as he looked in Harry’s eyes.

“No, sir.”

“How’s your stomach feelin’? Any pains?”

“No, sir.”

“How’d you get that cut on your face?”

“Accident,” Sirianna said when she knew Harry wouldn’t. “He cut it on a tree when we were in the forest.”

“That so?” Langley asked. He started to lift his hand, as if he were going to touch Harry’s face, and Harry leaned back out of reach. Langley dropped his hand and instead swept his eyes down Harry’s body. “You’re thin,” he said. “Too damn thin. Benny, you gotta feed ‘im. I’d add some oranges, some sunshine. Kid looks ready to fade away. The girl too.”

The girl too.

Sirianna said nothing as Langley turned away from them, his clearly excellent assessment finished.

“Gotta get ‘em some clothes of their own too,” Benny said. He shifted over and opened the door for Langley with a nod. “Appreciate you coming out, Everett.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Langley raised his hand in a wave directed toward Sirianna and Harry it seemed. “Vitamins, sunshine, fruits and vegetables, Hammond. Reckon I’ll see you all at the diner.”

Sirianna said nothing while Langley left, she only turned her body some so that Harry was just a step behind her as Benny appraised them both with a big sigh.

Benny seemed to be someone who sighed a lot.

“I got a cot in the diner where I can sleep, but I gotta shower here,” he said, rather randomly it seemed to Sirianna. “You two can use the bed, I’ll see if anyone’s got some clothes that might fit better.”

Sirianna blinked and then reached for her pocket, slowly pulling out the remaining money they had.

“Er… here,” she said, puzzled over what Benny was saying. “We have money.”

Benny looked at the money in her hand and snorted. He actually snorted.

“I don’t want your money,” he said. “You wanna carry your weight? You come down to the diner, help clean tables, maybe take some orders when it’s busy. Deal?”

Sirianna looked at Harry who needed vitamins and sunshine and fruits and vegetables. Harry gazed back at her with his empty eyes, his eyes that trusted her. If Sirianna left, Harry would go with her.

If anything went wrong by staying, it would be Sirianna’s fault.

But Benny had kind eyes and he didn’t call the White Coats, he called an old man that Sirianna could have beaten up with her bare fists if needed.

“Alright, Benny,” Sirianna decided. “Deal.”

It wasn’t much of a smile, but the muscle in Harry’s cheek twitched in what Sirianna knew was approval.

Chapter Text

Harry didn’t have to go to the diner, Benny’s Burgers, but Siri went every day and Harry couldn’t stay behind.

Benny’s Burgers smelled like grease - Harry didn’t know it was grease until he saw the kitchen and Benny told him it was grease. The tables were grimy no matter how much Harry scrubbed them. The customers who showed up talked and talked no matter how much Harry didn’t answer.

Siri… Siri liked it. Siri liked to walk around in the itchy clothes that Benny gave them. Siri liked to carry plates of food from the kitchen to the men who ordered them. Siri liked Benny, Harry could tell.

Harry sat in a booth in the corner of the diner and watched his sister while she carried plates and asked people what they wanted to eat. Harry would have helped, Benny didn’t want him to. Benny told Harry that he could help clean up when the diner closed in the evenings and then mostly ignored him.

It was fine, to be ignored. Harry preferred it. As long as he could see Siri, see the door to be sure They didn’t walk in, then Harry liked to be ignored.

Siri didn’t ignore Harry, she brought things over to the table where Harry spent his days. Siri would bring fruits with bursts of flavor in every bite in the mornings, cups of white milk that tasted bad and Siri told him he had to drink. Siri brought him a book one day, one that had a rocket ship blasting off on the cover.

“Garth brought it,” Siri told Harry happily as she slid him the book. Siri smiled when Harry reached for it so he smiled too, if it made Siri happy for Garth to bring a book then Harry was happy.

The book was interesting, though Harry couldn’t read it for very long at a time. It hurt his eyes, it made him tired. Harry used to stay up late at night, reading as many books as he was allowed to check out at the library. And then it took him eight days to read ten pages.

Mostly Harry sat in his booth by the window and watched Siri, made sure she was eating fruits and vegetables too and that carrying plates made her grin again. It was good, seeing her grin. Harry missed it, even if it wasn’t as bright as he thought it used to be.

She still smiled more in eight days than she did in four years, Harry counted.

Harry had his back in the corner and his legs pulled up for the book to rest on his knees on the ninth day. Siri was helping in the kitchen, Harry could hear her even if he could see her. Benny was slumped over at the register, working through a cup of coffee. He offered Harry some, one the first day in the diner, and Harry wouldn’t drink it. It smelled bad and it tasted just as bad when Siri brought him a cup with the bowl of grapes and strawberries that day.

Benny must have felt Harry staring at him over the top of his book because he lifted his head and caught Harry’s eyes across the empty diner.

“You good?” he asked Harry.

No.

“Yes, sir.” Harry pretended to look back at his book, carefully waiting until Benny went back to ignoring him. Once Benny was focused on the newspaper on the counter by the register, Harry stared at him again.

Benny… Harry didn’t understand Benny. Benny let them use his house, sleep in his bed. Benny gave them food all day at the diner. The only thing he asked was that Siri helped deliver plates and that Harry helped clean up when they closed if he ‘felt like it’. Benny gave them clothes, he gave Harry a pair of his boots that he said didn’t fit anymore.

They weren’t paying him, they weren’t doing anything. Siri had cleaned up the house, Harry washed the dishes they brought there from the diner. That was it.

When Benny made his demands, Harry wouldn’t be surprised, he just didn’t want Siri to be upset by them. They would leave, it wouldn’t bother Harry in the slightest, he just hated to think about Siri’s grins disappearing again.

Siri was talking to one of the old men who arrived that day - the same as he did every day - about fishing when something new happened. It was the same three men, who talked about the same things, in the same seats, they ordered the same food.

The door opened with a jingle of a bell and Harry’s head swiveled in that direction immediately. Benny straightened up as well, then slumped when the new person walked in the diner.

“Byers, damn, forgot to call you,” Benny said. “Why don’t you take the weekend off? I got help.”

‘Byers’ glanced at Siri, who stopped talking about fishing to watch him. Harry was beginning to stand up, his book already on the table, but then Byers looked at the ground and shrugged.

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Mind if I just… hang for a bit?”

Benny waved a hand, Harry didn’t think he did mind. Siri shook her head at Harry and waved her hand too, Harry didn’t know what that meant. Did it mean she didn’t mind? Did it mean she wanted to leave? Did she… did she want Harry to leave?

It was dark, cold. Harry couldn’t breathe, he wasn’t meant to.

A test, another test, Harry wasn’t passing them. He didn’t know how to pass the test - either he would die or he wouldn’t and if he didn’t then he would wish he had and he couldn’t leave Siri.

“Siri?” Harry tried to move in the enclosed box he was inside of and could barely wiggle from side to side. “Siri?”

There was nothing, a crushing weight of nothing that echoed around him. It would be okay, in the dark and cold with the weight of everything crushing his chest, if Siri were there.

Except Harry shouldn’t want Siri there, he shouldn’t want her around him at all. Harry should want Siri somewhere warm and pretty and he imagined that she would would be happy, without Harry there wishing she was buried alive with him.

“Good book.”

Harry blinked, the words on the page he wasn’t reading swam back in focus, and he saw that Byers had taken the booth beside his. Byers stared at Harry and it was his turn to say something.

“Okay,” Harry said. It was, so far. It was about space, where Harry had never been. The book talked about the astronauts who were selected for the Project Mercury mission NASA started in 1958. Ten years before Harry was born, Project Mercury began.

Byers looked at Harry like he was waiting for something for a few long seconds. Harry only stared at him unblinkingly, unsure what he wanted or why he was watching him.

“Right, sorry.” Byers turned so that all Harry could see was the back of his head. When Harry stretched his neck, he could see a notebook in front of him opened up.

Why did he have a notebook? In a diner? Who was he taking notes on?

Harry couldn’t read if he tried. The words were squibbles as hard to read as Byers notebook. Harry could steal it from him, he could pull it right to him like he always wanted to do to Them, but someone would notice.

Siri was back in the kitchen, Benny was focused on the paper. Nobody seemed to care that there was a stranger taking notes in the diner, nobody cared that he would make them all do things and then write about it where nobody would ever see.

Harry’s fingers fluttered where they rested between his chest and the open book. Byers could be a spy, a test, a trap. He could have a number on his arm beneath his jacket.

Harry moved quickly, quietly. He ducked under the table and popped up on the other side, closer to Byers. Byers turned to glance at Harry, Harry was already looking at his book. When Byers turned back to his notebook, Harry turned to peer over this shoulder.

“What the fuck, man?” Byers spun around and caught Harry in the act, causing his breath to stutter.

Automatically, Harry looked for Siri. She wasn’t there, she was in the kitchen, and Harry stammered as he tried to invent an excuse to sooth Byers in case he was a spy, was someone who reported back to Them.

“I… I…” Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of the buzzing in his ears. They couldn’t go back, They would kill Siri. “I can’t read,” he blurted out. “I’m learning to read now.”

Byers’s face fell forward while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. Harry didn’t know what that meant, it he believed him, it was a decent lie though… one that he hoped would get Byers to show him his notebook.

“You can’t read?” Byers asked him, speaking slowly. When he twisted in his seat more to face Harry, Harry’s eyes flickered to his left forearm. The shirt sleeve was almost high enough, not quite.

“No,” Harry went on, still craning his neck to see the notebook. “Or, yeah, I can. I can’t read handwriting? I’m trying to learn.”

“So you’re dyslexic or something?” Byers asked. Harry’s heart jumped up and lodged in his throat when Byers snagged his notebook and held it out for Harry to read. “That’s cool, man. You want to practice, go ahead. My handwriting is shit though.”

Harry didn’t know what it meant to be dyslexic or handwriting to be shit, but the writing was small and cramped. It was clear enough though… Harry’s eyes scanned the page quickly and the tightness in his chest loosened when it was only what seemed to be notes about a book.

Shakespeare.

Byers talked while Harry quickly read the page, looking for any code words or hidden secrets in the writing. He didn’t see any and he didn’t sense any magic, it - it might have been only notes for… school, it seemed.

“You’re new here, right?” Byers asked. He put his arm across the back of his booth so that he could turn around more to talk and Harry saw the second his sleeve bundled up and right beneath the crook of his elbow…

Nothing.

Byers wasn’t a wizard, he wasn’t a test subject, and he wasn’t a very good spy if he was one.

“You go to the middle school?” Byers asked. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“I don’t,” Harry said. Harry didn’t go to school, he didn’t need to anymore. Harry went to Hogwarts, then he didn’t. Before that… before that… Harry didn’t remember, he wasn’t sure if they were his memories or stories he had memorized, but Siri said they went to school with Dudley.

Harry didn’t remember Dudley, Siri talked about him sometimes. He didn’t sound nice.

“Got it. Uh… want me to help you?” Byers gestured to the book on Harry’s lap. “I’m kind of over Julius Cesar anyway.”

Siri used to read to Harry, she would be given books and when they weren’t together, she would read them so Harry could listen. Harry liked to be read to, Siri was busy, Byers was offering.

“Okay.” Harry handed him the book that he couldn’t get through. “It’s Garth’s,” he told him.

“Got it.” Byers smiled at Harry for no reason and Harry smiled back.

“Jonathan,” he said.

“James,” Harry said.

It wasn’t a lie, not entirely.

Jonathan started showing up at the diner every day after that.

Siri would wait tables, Benny would work at the register, Harry would help clean up when the diner closed. Jonathan would show up and if there were more than a few people in the diner, Benny would tell Jonathan he could help out. When it wasn’t busy, Jonathan read Garth’s book to Harry.

Harry didn’t always listen, sometimes the lure of hiding in his mind while the stories of astronauts and outer space exploration washed over him was too much. Harry could see Jonathan, could see the door, he could see Siri. It was… quiet.

“You’ve made a new friend!” Siri said when the diner closed one night and Harry wiped down the counter where the old men always sat. Siri was happy, beaming at Harry with a smile that was almost real.

“I did?” Harry asked.

“Jonathan? Harry.” Siri laughed and that made Harry almost smile for real too. Siri didn’t laugh much, didn’t have reasons to for so long.

“HARRY!” Siri launched herself at Harry and laughed, her laugh filling up the entire Great Hall, while she did a strange hugging sort of dance. “Guess what?”

“Er… Snape’s been fired?” Harry guessed, half of a joke. “Draco’s being expelled? Oh! Are they having Treacle Tart Tuesdays?” he added wistfully.

“Even better!” Siri puffed her chest out and looked so proud of herself that Harry truly couldn’t imagine what had her looking so pleased. Shouldn’t she be upset? Have a month of detentions??

“I’m the new seeker for Gryffindor!”

“You’re - what?!” Harry’s shriek came out louder than he intended and a few girls at the nearby Hufflepuff table giggled at him. Harry resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at them and blushed instead.

“I know!” Siri jumped up and down again, the smile glued to her face seemed permanent. “McGonagall appointed me herself!”

But… but Harry wanted to play quidditch. Flying was brilliant, it was the most fun Harry had ever had in his entire life.

“This is so unfair!” Harry wailed, happy for his sister and heartbroken, truly devastated, for himself. “You broke the rules and got rewarded?”

“I did.” Siri laughed again, knowing that Harry’s pout was mostly faked. “And now we can figure out how to break the rules so you can be Slytherin’s seeker. Potter versus Potter, won’t it be so exciting?”

When Siri laughed again, Harry laughed too. He didn’t think that anything except for a lobotomy would make Professor Snape appoint him on the quidditch team, but Siri was just so happy.

“He comes here every day to hang out with you,” Siri went on, missing the way Harry’s eyes softened every time he saw her smiling. “Is he nice? He doesn’t talk to me.”

“He doesn’t talk to me either,” Harry said. “He reads.”

And sometimes he talked about his school, his classes, little comments about people Harry didn’t know. He mentioned he had a brother once, a younger brother and not a twin. It didn’t seem like he was talking to Harry then, he would just say things out loud.

“Byers is good people,” Benny said, walking in the dining room from the kitchen with his apron balled up in his hands. “Kid picks up shifts here sometimes, helps his mom out with bills.”

“See? A friend!” Siri laughed again, she wasn’t even helping clean anymore, but Harry didn’t mind. She was mostly leaning on a broom and watching Harry.

Theo Nott had been Harry’s friend, that was it. And Harry was fine with it; he could keep his memories of Theo locked away in a safe place in his mind, a place where they wouldn’t be tarnished and destroyed. Siri was the one who had a dozen people trying to be around her, drawn in by her jokes and wit and the easy way she could interact with the others. Harry had just been pleased with his one very best friend.

“Speaking of making friends…” Benny walked around the counter and hauled himself in one of the red tall seats, sending Harry to skirt around on the staff side, beside his sister.

Harry knew that Benny would have demands at some point, he wasn’t letting them sleep in his house and eat his food for free. There were going to be expectations, demands and discipline.

“You two need to get signed up for school,” Benny said. Siri went still beside Harry and he reached for her hand, reached for her, reached out.

“School?” Siri asked, her laughter gone and her voice breathless. “We can’t go to school.”

Did he mean Hogwarts? Did Benny figure it out? Did They call him? Did Siri know that Harry wouldn’t let anyone take her again?

“Legally, you have to,” Benny said. “Kids gotta be enrolled in school and I called the school today, talked to the principal. We can go in tomorrow and talk about it with him or we can call Children’s Services and let them figure it out.”

There was a sharp pain in Harry’s chest, he didn’t know if it was his or Siri’s pain. Harry liked school… he liked Hogwarts. It used to be a trick They would use, saying Harry could go back to Hogwarts if he cooperated with Them.

“We… we could be allowed to go? To school with people our age?” Siri asked Benny. Harry realized that her breathlessness was excitement and not the cold fear that settled deep in Harry’s stomach, freezing his veins and making him feel as if he were in an ice bath again.

Siri squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to give him her warmth in the way she gave him everything of hers. Harry stared at the old framed photographs on the other side of the diner and let Siri have her excitement while he slid inside his mind, away from the fear.

Jonathan told Harry about Guion Bluford. On the 30th of August, not even two months ago, Guion Bluford was the first African-American man launched into space. When Harry was 15 years old, Guion Bluford became a pioneer for ideals of embracing diversity and selecting astronauts on their merits as human beings rather than the color of their skin.

On the 30th of August, Guion Bluford went to space and Harry Potter had been unconscious for a week, recovering from the final experiment that he had been subjected to.

“This is freedom,” Siri whispered to Harry that night when he curled around her and his teeth chattered despite the heavy blankets they shared. “Going to school, Har, blending in. We can’t - we can’t be the town freaks who don’t go to school. Benny said that could lead to people asking questions, questions we can’t answer.”

Harry could hear her, Harry could hear Siri making plans and trying to keep them safe - trying to keep him safe - and he was freezing from the inside out.

“Okay,” he whispered back.

“Har… don’t be like that,” Siri said, she sounded sad. She rolled over on her back, letting Harry curl into her side with his arm over her, making sure nobody could take her.

“You love school,” Siri went on, spinning another story for Harry to try to believe in. “Jonathan will be there, he’s a year ten. And there’s going to be books… so many books, Har. Benny said we’ll learn about math and science, you’ll like science. And there are clubs, normal clubs. We - we have to try, right? We have to try to blend in, try to have a life?” Siri swallowed and Harry’s chest ached, only briefly. “If we don’t then they win, Bubby. They’ll win and we’ll be the losers.”

They already won, surely Siri knew that. They won and Harry lost and Siri lost because Harry couldn’t do anything right. When They came for them, They would prove that they were winners and Harry was nothing, no one, nowhere.

“Clubs? Like quidditch?” Harry asked, gripping Siri tight as he silently slid the safe across the floor, placing it back in front of the door. The dresser went in front of the window, it would wake Harry if it was moved.

Siri loved to play quidditch, it was her favorite thing.

“Probably not that,” Siri said, huffing a laugh in the dark that came out blue, sad, not real. “But - but I think we should. Okay?”

Not okay.

Harry wanted to go home, go to Hogwarts. Harry wanted Hedwig and Theo and his wand. Harry wanted to travel through time and never be taken, never have magic forced through him until his own magic became twisted, warped, wrong. Harry wanted the warm and quiet library full of spellbooks, he wanted his book series that Theo bought him and Harry never got to finish.

Harry didn’t want to go to a non-magical school and he didn’t want to try. Harry wanted to have won when it mattered, it didn’t matter anymore. Not to him.

“Okay,” Harry said, clenching his eyes shut hard.

It didn’t matter to him, it mattered to Siri and she mattered to him.

Chapter Text

Sirianna couldn’t sleep, she was wide awake and buzzing with a nervous energy. Harry had fallen asleep maybe an hour ago and even trying to time her breaths to match his wasn’t working for her.

School.

Muggle school.

It was just so blessedly normal.

Sirianna used to daydream of escaping the cages they were kept in, she would think about all the things that she would do with her freedom. Sirianna would dance and laugh, she would buy Harry a whole library, she would play quidditch and visit Ron’s home like she was meant to do many years ago.

Sirianna would wear makeup and shop from catalogs like Lavender Brown did. She would fill a room with food and sweets and a juice of every color.

There wouldn’t be any more grey, no more pain. It would be Sirianna and Harry living out the rest of their lives in the happiest bliss there was.

Sirianna had never truly believed they would escape, not after a while. And once they were… she had never thought about how to fit in the world, how to make a life.

School seemed like a good start though.

When Sirianna nearly woke Harry with her anxious fidgeting, she decided to go sit outside for a while. It was rather chilly, Benny said the Indiana nights turned cold at the end of August and the days followed suit by October. Sirianna didn’t think it was too cold during the day, but it was frigid outside.

Sirianna tucked Harry in tightly then took the faded brown blanket off the trunk that rested at the foot of Benny’s bed to wrap around herself. Harry made a quiet sigh in his sleep and Sirianna paused in the bedroom doorway to watch him with soft eyes.

Things were hard for Harry, it had always been that way. He had to know though, he had to, that Sirianna wouldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to do. If school truly made Harry unhappy, then he didn’t have to go.

And… and if Harry didn’t go then Sirianna wouldn’t either.

Sirianna shuffled through the quiet house to get out the backdoor. She had planned to just sit by the door, breathe in the fresh air that she would never get enough of, but it seemed as if she wasn’t the only one with that idea.

Benny was outside, once again sunk in the red chair that could be folded up and stored away. Sirianna paused, the door still open behind her, and her eyes widened at the weapon laying across Benny’s lap.

It was a shotgun, Sirianna knew that. Uncle Vernon had once purchased one that Hagrid had twisted up like a pretzel. Sirianna only didn’t know why Benny had one —

Had they overstayed the peculiar welcome he gave them? Did - did she do something wrong at the diner? Benny hadn’t been angry when she made mistakes before, had she made one too many?

Sirianna didn’t realize that her body was trembling while her eyes were glued to the weapon until Benny spoke up and spooked her.

“Thought I heard coyotes,” Benny said. “They claw at the door sometimes, I didn’t want them to bother you kids.”

Coyotes?

“What’s - I don’t know what that is,” Sirianna said softly, her eyes still locked on the weapon. Benny could shoot her, shoot Harry. Who would ever know?

Who would know that they fought and fought and fought for freedom then were killed by a man who pretended to be their friend?

“Coyotes? City kids,” Benny scoffed. “They’re like wolves, except they run wild out here, in packs. They get in the trash, kill cats. Tore the back door off the diner one time.”

It was an animal? A wild animal?

“Like foxes?” Sirianna asked.

“Yeah, Lily, like foxes.”

Oh.

Sirianna pulled the door closed behind her and nodded as she slowly sat down, her eyes still warily eyeing the shotgun. Benny, quite slowly, pulled something on it that made it click, sending Sirianna to her feet once again.

“They’re probably gone,” Benny said, placing the shotgun on the ground in front of him.

“Sorry.” Sirianna couldn’t slow her heart down, couldn’t fix the embarrassed blush on her cheeks. Benny was their friend, he wasn’t going to shoot them.

But who would know if he did?

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Benny said in his gruff way that wasn’t necessarily unkind. “Plenty of folks don’t care for guns. Me? I think they’re a necessary evil, I woulda lost my head in ‘Nam if I didn’t have one.”

“Oh,” Sirianna said, nodding in what she hoped looked like understanding. “Well I’m glad you had one then.”

Sirianna would like to have her weapon back, her wand. It wasn’t impossible to do magic without it, only incredibly difficult. Not for Harry, but Harry was always the exception.

Benny snorted and they lapsed in a comfortable enough silence. Sirianna liked Benny, she thought he was kind and could be funny when he would go back and forth with Wayne and Langley at the diner. There probably weren’t many people who would take a cot in a diner over their own bed, so Sirianna thought it was truly luck they had deserved to have found Benny on their first day of freedom.

Since the shotgun didn’t leap up to bite her, and was out of arms reach, Sirianna was looking up at the sky, searching for stars that were bright enough to see. There weren’t many, none that Sirianna knew… Harry would know them, he had always been more clever.

“That’s Canis Major,” Harry said, pointing up at a collection of stars. They had Astronomy together and Sirianna liked when it was night classes, when she could lay on the tower floor beside her brother and gaze up at the stars.

“See? It looks kind of like a dog, a canine,” Harry went on, his voice picking up speed in his excitement. “Look!” Harry traced his finger, drawing something in the air - in the stars - that Sirianna couldn’t picture. “A dog.”

“Yeah,” Sirianna grinned over at Ron, who was silently snickering at Harry’s excitement over the stars. “I see, Har.”

“And that star? The brightest one? That’s Sirius.” Harry turned to smile at Sirianna and his smile was brighter than the star. “I reckon our parents named you after that star.”

That… that would be nice, if Sirianna had been named for a star.

“Mate, if that’s the tail…” Ron interrupted with hilarity absolutely shaking off him in waves. “And that’s the star… does that mean your parents named Sirianna after a dog’s butthole?”

“What? No!” Harry laughed with Ron, even his quiet friend Theo started giggling. “I think she’s the neck?”

“As long as I’m the star,” Sirianna sniffed in a pretend show of haughtiness. It would be nice if her parents named her for a star, it would also be nice to be the brightest something, the best something.

Not a dog’s butthole though, nobody wanted to be the best butthole ever.

“You know anything about stars?” Benny asked, pulling Sirianna from one of her favorite memories of Hogwarts.

“What? Oh, no.” Sirianna shook her head, all of her jealousy and childish bitterness over her brother had been gone so long she could barely believe that it had ever been there. Harry was clever, twice as clever to make up for his twice as terrible life.

“Harry does,” Sirianna said unthinkingly, a small smile ghosting her lips. “I don’t know how he memorized them all, I could barely remember the names of the planets.”

And if someone were to ask her what they were right then, Sirianna would only recall earth. There were more… but it was knowledge hidden under memories and screams and fear and panic and —

“Benny.” Sirianna looked at Benny then as she realized what school meant. “I - I don’t know anything,” she said in a rush. “I don’t remember the planets or - or history!”

How could she go to school?! Why did she think that she could? Sirianna knew nothing, nothing that a muggle school would care about.

Sirianna knew quite a bit about genetics, DNA, and biological makeup from the things she heard over the years… and that was it. That was the only knowledge she had that anyone else would care about.

Nobody would care about Sirianna knowing Harry’s threshold for pain, her own threshold for pain. Nobody would care that Sirianna knew how big a puddle of blood could become before Harry would go unconscious.

“I’m going to be stupid and useless,” Sirianna said, her eyes welling with pity tears. Crying did no good, but it wasn’t as if she could stop crying.

It would have been wonderful, if the White Coats took her tear ducts instead of her ability to dream.

“You are not stupid and you’re certainly not fucking useless.” Benny wasn’t glaring, but he had what Sirianna recognized to be a no-nonsense stiffness to his expression. It was the one he used when Earl tried to sneak his flask in the diner during the breakfast rush.

“Look, I can’t pretend to know what you and your brother in there have done up to now, but I notice things, alright? I know you learned to make change quick as hell, you never mix up the salad dressings, and you’re the hardest worker I know.”

None of that would matter in a school. Sirianna had been a decent enough student at Hogwarts, rubbish in Primary. It was Harry who was brilliant, Harry who didn’t throw up during his end of year exams.

“Thanks, Benny.” Sirianna wiped her nose on the blanket she was wrapped up in and sighed heavily. Benny was trying, again, to be kind. He didn’t understand though…

What good were salad dressings when Sirianna would never fit in with people her age, never blend in a group of girls like the ones that walked past the diner when school ended??

That was just a pity party though. Who cared if she was stupid and would never fit in just right? Who cared about her curiosity on how girls did makeup and how tests could be taken without vomit when she was free? She was alive, and so was Harry.

That was all that mattered.

“I went to school with Higgins, your principal,” Benny told her. “He’s a good sort, he’ll have you in the right classes or whatever and you’ll be just fine, Lily.”

“Sirianna.”

“What’s that then?”

Sirianna ducked her head with her heart lodged in her throat, swelling up in a warning that she didn’t want to heed.

“My name,” she said, picking nervously at the threads on the blanket. “It’s - it’s Sirianna Lily, not just Lily.”

“Sirianna, huh?” Benny didn’t sound angry, though Sirianna wouldn’t look at him just yet, not directly. She could see his hands, the shotgun, from the corner of her eyes.

“You know, my first ex-wife’s name was Anna. Always did like that name.”

Sirianna let out a heavy breath and drummed up the courage to look across the shabby and chilly lawn to where Benny was sitting in his chair, looking at Sirianna with more kindness than she had seen in years.

Maybe… maybe if everyone in Hawkins was as kind as Benny then school might be okay. Hogwarts had been wonderful, mostly. Hawkins High School could be too.

Benny closed the diner after the breakfast shift ended so that he could take Sirianna and Harry to the school. Harry was quiet, his muscles shaking beneath the thick camouflage coat that Benny gave him.

Sirianna kept a tight hold of his hand when they climbed in Benny’s truck and tried to reassure him that it would be okay. They were free, school was normal, things were going to be okay.

“I’m gonna need enough information to give Higgins,” Benny said when his truck turned on the gravel road and Sirianna felt as if she were bouncing around in her seat. Benny kept his eyes on the road, thankfully, but Sirianna sensed that he was paying too much attention to Harry’s nerves.

“They’ll need full names, birthdays, probably the last school you attended,” Benny said - like a bucket of ice water on Sirianna’s head.

Their last school? Hogwarts? That - that wasn’t a thing they could write. It would set off alarms, maybe alarms that the White Coats would hear.

“We were… homeschooled,” Sirianna said, pulling the term from her vault of memories from before. Homeschooling was what one of the children in Privet Drive did, the little boy with the twisted legs and vacant expression.

Aunt Petunia said he was too disturbed to attend school, but Sirianna talked to the boy’s mum once, when she had been outside picking weeds. Sirianna couldn’t remember why the boy didn’t go to school, Sirianna only remembered that the mum sounded like she loved her son more than anything in the world.

“Homeschooled,” Benny repeated. He scratched his beard. “Reckon that makes sense…”

Harry’s eyes were dull when Sirianna looked at him, checking that he would remember that in case he was asked again later. It wouldn’t do any good to remind him then, Sirianna knew that he was worlds away inside his mind.

“And birthdays?” Benny asked. “They gotta know how old you are.”

“We’re fifteen,” Sirianna replied, having realized that on the day they escaped, the day Harry saw a newspaper.

Fifteen. Sirianna and Harry had spent four birthdays in cages… more than that if she counted the boards on the windows at the Dursleys, which she didn’t, not anymore.

It hurt Sirianna’s heart fiercely to think about how Harry had to miss his twelfth birthday. Sirianna had plans, big plans. They were going to go to Ron Weasley’s house, Sirianna had already invited Theodore Nott… and Sirianna was going to bake Harry a cake, his first ever very own cake. They would have played quidditch with the Weasleys,

It would have been a good day. Sirianna didn’t know what they did instead on Harry’s birthday, the early days were sometimes fuzzy in her memory, but Sirianna knew her plans would have been wonderful.

“Full names?” Benny asked.

That - that wasn’t a thing that Sirianna could give him. It wasn’t fair, because Benny gave them a bed and food and clothes and kindness, but Sirianna couldn’t give them their full names. He already knew almost too much, but Sirianna didn’t think that shouting their surname would lead to anything good.

“Sirianna and Harry… Hammond?” Sirianna said, gazing at Benny in the little mirror pleadingly. She couldn’t ask him, wouldn’t, but… but she hoped that the nice man who had already done so much would do just the one more thing.

Benny’s blue eyes moved to the mirror, meeting Sirianna’s. It wasn’t safe to be Potter, it probably never had been. And that was unfair, because James Potter was a hero, but Sirianna hoped he would forgive her for not wanting to carry the cursed name to a muggle school.

“Fine with me,” Benny said, breaking the hard eye contact and going back to watching the road he drove down so casually. “I’ll tell Higgins you’re my niece and nephew, should keep the busybodies away.”

The rest of the ride was more comfortable, Sirianna spent it imagining the ways she would apologize if she ever saw James Potter after she died.

Hawkins High School was incredibly intimidating, right from the start. School was in session, Benny said so, but there were still some students lingering in a parking lot, leaning against cars and casting curious looks at Sirianna and Harry.

They looked… they didn’t look like they were the same age as Sirianna and Harry. They seemed older, so mature. The girls were pretty, with their curled hair and stylish clothes.

Sirianna pulled self-consciously on the neck of the jumper that Benny had gotten for her. It was blue, which was a lovely color, but it was nowhere near as colorful and interesting as the other kids’s clothes.

Harry didn’t even seem to notice, he drifted along beside Sirianna, trusting her to lead him, in complete silence. Sirianna didn’t expect him to talk, Harry hadn’t been talkative in years, but she wished that he would say something - do something - to help ease the gnawing nerves in her stomach.

The inside of the school made Sirianna think of her primary school, what she could remember of it. The hard floors and bright lights were the same, but the rows of metal lockers were different. There was the smell of smoke too, stronger when they passed the loos, that Sirianna knew had not been a part of primary.

Benny didn’t complain about their slow pace, the way Sirianna’s head kept swiveling around to take in every detail. Benny let them walk slowly as he guided them to the office he wanted to visit.

There were two boys slumped over in the hallway outside of the office. They both looked up and Sirianna could feel their eyes following her as she was ushered in the office by Benny.

Sirianna felt her skin prickling and barely resisted turning back around to see if they were still staring when Benny introduced them to the woman at the desk, asking for Principal Higgins. The woman stared at Sirianna and Harry, especially poor silent Harry who looked at the floor with his unhappy eyes, with just as much curiosity as the students had so far.

It was too much, much too much. Sirianna could hardly hear Benny introducing them as his niece and nephew to Higgins over her own shallowed breathing.

Everyone was staring. Everyone. They weren’t blending in, they were being stared at - gawked at - watched. They were back under observation and Sirianna could not breathe.

“Hello. I’m Harry Hammond, my sister, Sirianna.”

Sirianna whipped her head to the side at what sounded like Harry. It was Harry’s voice, his flat affection, words that would make sense for Harry to use, but Harry didn’t - he didn’t talk. Not to other people, not really.

It was Sirianna’s job to handle the school and she was letting Harry down.

Harry’s eyes were still dull, not a single glitter in them to be seen, but he did say it. He did. He introduced them and pulled Sirianna into Higgins inner-office because Sirianna hadn’t.

Unacceptable.

“Hello.” Sirianna squeezed Harry’s hand in thanks with her left and politely offered her right hand to the stern-faced principal watching her. “Sirianna Hammond.”

The name stuck in her throat, the lie.

“Pleasure.” Higgins shook Sirianna’s hand and there was a painfully awkward moment when he offered Harry the same hand only to be ignored. Higgins didn’t look impressed by that, but Benny moved the conversation along to ease past it.

“Came to enroll my niece and nephew, seems they’re going to be staying a while,” Benny said, filling Sirianna’s heart with hope.

“Niece and nephew?” Higgins sat down in his fancy desk chair and rubbed the bald spot on his head. “I don’t remember Patty having any kids?”

“Nah, not Patty. These are Michael’s kids, his old lady is sick and she gave me a call, asked if they could stay with me.”

“Is that so?” Higgins accepted Benny’s lie easily, just as Benny had accepted Sirianna’s. It worried her, that Benny could lie so well. Everything he said might be a lie, every word and every kindness. “I thought Michael got divorced a few years back? Before the cancer?”

“Eh, she was sick enough I don’t know that she remembered her and Michael split,” Benny said with a shrug of one of his shoulders. “They’re good kids though, just need to get ‘em signed up.”

“Of course, of course.” Higgins looked at Sirianna again and her stomach twisted. There were too many people looking at her, watching her.

“What are you? Freshmen?” he asked.

Fresh… men?

“Homeschooled,” Benny said when Sirianna only stared blankly at Higgins. Higgins sniffed at the term, as unimpressed with it as Aunt Petunia had been. “They’re fifteen, where’s that put ‘em?”

“When did you turn fifteen?” Higgins asked.

“July,” Sirianna said.

“Sophomores then; that’s grade ten,” Higgins said. He pulled open a drawer in his desk and Sirianna struggled to catch her breath - things were happening quickly, too quickly.

“Yeah, here’s some forms.” Higgins pulled a stack of papers from his desk and handed them to Benny. “Do you have anything that says you’re in charge of them?” he asked.

“Wasn’t time,” Benny said. “That something I can get from you?”

“Probably be best if you took it through the official channel, call down to the station and have them print something off.”

“Sounds fine.”

“Alright, if you send those forms back with them tomorrow then we can get them a schedule and they’ll have books in their classes.”

Sirianna felt as if her body and mind were being pulled in many different directions while Benny asked about supplies and Higgins told her the rules of his school. Nothing was sticking in her mind, everything was too much.

For once, Sirianna wished that everyone would just be quiet.

Sirianna got her wish on the drive back to Benny’s house. Benny hummed along to a song on the radio, Harry hadn’t said a word since he had to introduce them at the school. Sirianna thought about all the students that had been watching her, the sharp gazes of the staff…

It was like Hogwarts all over again and Sirianna didn’t want that. She wanted normal, safe. She wanted Harry to be safe, she wanted to be normal.

When Benny pulled in the dirt driveway by his house, Sirianna was already sniffling again and hating herself for it. Why couldn’t her stupid brain understand the priorities?

“I’m going to go to Muncie, get these supplies you two will need,” Benny said. “Might as well keep the diner closed today, no use in working if we don’t have to.”

“That’s - no, Benny, I’ll open the diner,” Sirianna offered quickly. Benny wouldn’t take her money, she had offered it to him almost every day for everything he did for them. He kept saying no, but opening the diner was different. That was how Benny made money.

“There’s no point, I told Garth to take the day off.”

Sirianna felt guilty, horribly guilty. Benny wouldn’t take her money, wouldn’t let her give him back his bedroom. Benny didn’t even get to sleep in his own house because of them and he let them use his last name!

Benny said that he would be home before dinner and Sirianna pulled Harry from the truck and watched, waiting, Benny leave. As soon as his truck turned away and she could no longer hear it, she squared her shoulders decisively.

“Come on, Harry,” she said, turning him around to direct him to the diner. “If we can’t open the diner, we can at least clean it.”

There were probably ten layers of grease and grime on every surface in the kitchen. The floors needed scrubbed, the bathrooms were disgusting. They were all things that Benny said not to worry about, they’d find time another day.

If Benny found time to do all the things he was doing, then Sirianna had time to clean. And Harry… Harry would probably help.

The diner didn’t lock, Benny said there was no point in Hawkins to lock the door. It meant that Sirianna and Harry could walk right in. Sirianna flipped on the lights, though not the large OPEN sign that sat in one of the windows, and walked determinedly toward the kitchen.

There were large jugs of cleaning liquids and Sirianna carefully poured some in each of the three big sinks that she filled with water. Since Harry followed her in the kitchen, she handed him a broom to begin sweeping. Sirianna took the scrubber that Benny said to use on grease and began attacking the stove.

While she worked, she talked. It was too quiet otherwise.

“Everyone is going to stare at us, all day tomorrow,” she said, pushing hard with the scrubber to put her nerves to use. “It’s going to be awful. And I’m stupid, I’m so stupid! I’m not going to know anything, nothing useful! What am I going to do when they ask about - about history or - or whatever they learn?

“And did you see them? The other students? We don’t look anything like them! They’re all tall and pretty. They’re going to think that we’re freaks and I’m so sick of being a freak, I’m so tired of it.

“Can’t we just be normal? Just be like everyone else?”

Sirianna threw the scrubber when her chest was heaving and the dirty water was splashing back on her. She glared at the stove through teary eyes and vented the last of her frustrations in a choked whisper:

“And why can’t I be grateful? Why can’t I just be glad we’re free and away from them?”

It was all she had wanted for so long, why couldn’t her brain understand that? There were much worse things that being stupid or a freak… Sirianna knew that because she had experienced so many of them while Harry must have experienced them all.

Maybe she should be more like Harry, who had finished sweeping and started mopping vigorously, carefully getting beneath every piece of equipment and in every corner.

Harry wasn’t whining, wasn’t crying. Harry never did.

Harry also wasn’t talking and Sirianna pushed away the pang of loneliness that it brought her.

They worked through the kitchen for at least two hours before moving out to the dining room with fresh water and cleaned scrubbers. Harry started sweeping, Sirianna started on the tables. They had a steady rhythm going, one that was only broken when Sirianna had too many thoughts to keep in her head or Harry started humming.

Everything was beginning to look quite clean and freshened really when the front door opened, setting off the jingle of the bell. Harry had already turned in that direction, Sirianna was the one who planned to tell whichever old man it was that they were closed.

It wasn’t an old man, it was Harry’s friend. Because Harry could make a friend by doing nothing more than sitting in a corner looking horribly sad.

“You guys closed?” Jonathan asked Sirianna. He pulled off his hat and twisted it in his hands as he looked around, frowning. “Or is this some sort of spring cleaning?”

“Both,” Sirianna told him, hastily wiping her face when she realized she was snotty and tear-streaked. She pulled her hair forward, hiding some behind the dark curls. “Sorry.”

“I can go,” Jonathan offered, lingering in the doorway and letting cold air rush in. “I heard some kids at school say there were two new kids, I figured it was you two.”

Great. Gossip had already started. Just like Hogwarts.

“It is,” Sirianna said, bitter and already forgetting her swear to not care what freedom looked like as long as it didn’t include cages and her brother fading away day-by-day. “We’re supposed to start tomorrow.”

“Oh. Rad.” Jonathan rocked on his heels and Sirianna saw what she had already noticed before - he seemed just as awkward as Harry was at any given time. He was tall and had longer hair, he had a brilliant denim jacket. Sirianna thought that even when he looked like he didn’t know what to say or do, he was still the coolest person she had met in years.

“I - uh… I drive my brother,” Jonathan said quickly, looking down at the camera he would sometimes bring to the diner with him. “If you wanted, I could pick you guys up too.”

Sirianna blinked, taken back by that. Benny didn’t say how they would travel to the school, she had assumed that he would drive them. Except then he would have to close the diner, lose even more money because of them.

“Thank you,” Sirianna said, showing that she could be grateful and considerate. “That would be lovely.”

“Thank you,” Harry added, echoing Sirianna.

Jonathan nodded and finally stepped all the way inside, letting the door close and block out the wind.

“Do you guys want help?” he offered. “I’m not busy.”

“Okay,” Harry said, helpfully deciding to speak up before Sirianna could tell Jonathan no. Jonathan didn’t wait to see if Sirianna was okay with it, he was too busy taking his boots and jacket off so he didn’t track mud inside.

Harry started mopping closer to Sirianna while Jonathan went to grab the ‘floor waxing kit’ from the closet off the kitchen.

“I love you,” Harry said, so out of the blue that Sirianna almost didn’t understand him. The mop paused in his hand and he gave Sirianna a small - but there - grin. “You’re not stupid, Siri. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Sirianna’s worries and her nerves - her fear - that had been choking her all day eased up with Harry’s encouragement. Harry wasn’t a liar, he never had been. Harry wouldn’t even lie to her when she asked him once if she was a good singer.

It meant that Harry believed it, believed in her, and Sirianna couldn’t let him down. She just couldn’t.

Not again.

Chapter Text

“Maybe they’re not coming.”

“Maybe they don’t exist.”

“They do exist! I didn’t make them up!”

“You sure?” Steve Harrington grinned over at Tommy and shouldered him playfully. “Maybe you just have twins on the mind,” he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I always have twins on my mind,” Tommy laughed. He seemed to shake Carol at his side, probably proving his point, and Steve politely - quickly - looked away. “But I’m telling you, man. These twins were weird, absolute fucking freaks.”

“I mean, aren’t all twins like super freaky?” Carol asked, popping her gum that was almost the exact same shade of pink as her sweater. Huh. Neat.

“It’s like unnatural to have two babies at once,” Carol went on. “I read about two twins that only had half of a brain each.”

“You read something?” Steve asked, jumping on the chance to tease Carol. “Was it the National Enquirer?”

“What would you know about the National Enquirer?” Tommy snorted with his own shove to Steve’s shoulder. “Been hanging out with the band geeks again, Stevie?”

“Only Nancyyyy,” Carol said, moaning Nancy’s name and making Steve nearly blush.

“It’s not like that,” Steve told them. He smiled and knew it was a little dopey, sappy. But maybe he was in love, he was allowed to be dopey and sappy. “Nancy’s different, I think we’re hanging out again tonight. And she’s not in band either.”

“And by hang out he means…” Tommy turned and grabbed Carol by the shoulders so that he could make some dumb sounds before sticking his tongue halfway down her throat. Steve kicked the back of Tommy’s leg and turned away, not super interested in watching them neck for the next ten minutes.

They were supposed to be watching for the mystery twins that Tommy swore he saw in the school the day before. Everyone had been talking about them, half of the school was risking being tardy just for a chance to see them first. The last new person to arrive in Hawkins had been Billy freaking Hargrove, Steve just hoped the mystery twins were less douchey.

Billy Hargrove, Prince Douche himself, even waited out in the parking lot. He had one foot propped behind him on the door of the Camaro that Steve had seen him drive like a maniac every time he was in it. Hargrove caught Steve’s eye and seemed to deliberately blow his mouthful of cigarette smoke in his direction.

God, what a jerk.

Steve thought, he so stupidly thought, that when Hargrove started Hawkins High in August that maybe they might be friends. Hargrove played basketball, Tommy said he was a cool enough guy. Except Hargrove wound up being pushy and aggressive and Steve was pretty sure the guy had taken a personal dislike of Steve.

King Steve, he called him during practice one time, tossed out like an insult.

Hargrove sucked, that didn’t mean the new twins, if they were real, had to.

“Oooh! Is that them?” Tammy Thompson, over in her little group of cheerleaders, got everyone excited for nothing when she heard a car turn in the lot.

Steve almost felt bad for the sounds of annoyance half the high school made when it was only Jonathan Byers who pulled in. He was nearly late, Steve almost wondered what would make the guy late until he realized that he didn’t really care.

Maybe Jonathan found a pig in the woods and wanted to practice kissing. Maybe he started worshiping the devil and had to sacrifice someone. Maybe —

Maybe Jonathan Byers had to pick up two people who were definitely twins and definitely real.

Steve had lived in Hawkins, Indiana his entire life. Born, raised. Kind-of raised, definitely born. The point was, Steve pretty much knew everyone in Hawkins and the two people who climbed out of Byers’s car were definitely new.

“How the fuck did the freak find the freaks first?” Tommy asked Steve, loud enough that several people around them laughed. Steve started to smile, then caught Nancy Wheeler frowning at Tommy beside her friend, Band-Geek-Barbara.

Steve wiped his smile away and frowned too, elbowing Tommy when he knew Nancy could see.

“Not cool, man,” Steve said, making sure his chin was up and his arms were flexed. Nancy was a nice girl, not like Carol, she didn’t like when Steve called people freaks or geeks. And if Steve wanted to put his tongue in her mouth again…

Steve might not be the best student in the junior year, but even he could do that math pretty easily.

The twins didn’t seem to hear Tommy, but Steve was sure that Byers had. Byers had his shoulders hunched up beneath his denim jacket while he walked with the boy and girl. The twins were really freaking weird looking, from where Steve was standing.

Their clothes were baggy, old and faded. The one with the short hair had his head ducked while he walked, the one with the long waves of black hair had her head swiveling around so much that Steve couldn’t see what she actually looked like.

They were kind of small though, skinny. Steve didn’t think that either of them would be trying to join any sports teams and, judging from how much they were being giggled at, Steve also didn’t think that anyone at Hawkins High would complain about that.

“Ugh!” Carol plugged her nose when Byers and the new kids made to pass them. “Someone smell something?”

“Smells like ass,” Tommy said, sticking his foot out immediately to try and trip Byers. Byers tripped, nearly hit the gravel, and Tommy blew a raspberry while the girl was quick to help Byers.

“Are you alright?” she asked Byers. Steve - Steve kind of liked her voice, it made him curious about what her face would look like if she ever turned toward him. Her voice was different, maybe like a movie star when they weren’t faking accents for films.

“Fine,” Byers said, brushing off the dirt and ignoring Tommy’s insults. “It’s cool, I’m good.”

“Notice how he didn’t say ‘it’s good, I’m cool’?” Tommy asked, jostling Steve to get a laugh.

“Notice how nobody has ever said that you’re cool,” the girl snapped. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, turned to glare at them, and - huh.

She was pretty, like really pretty in a sort of alien way. There were green eyes that were maybe a little too big for her face glaring at Tommy and there wasn’t any makeup covering them, not like almost everyone else had been wearing since before sixth grade. She was pale, super pale, but pretty.

Pretty and pissed.

“Forget it,” Byers muttered, actually looking kind of miserable about all the attention he was getting. “Let’s get inside.”

With a final glare at Tommy, the girl turned and started following Byers again, her head held a little higher than before. The brother, had to be the brother because Steve noticed then that he’d been holding hands with the girl since they got out of the car like some creepy security blanket, never once looked at Steve. Steve didn’t think he had looked at anyone.

“Oh, my God.” Carol started laughing like crazy when the new kids were inside with Byers. Everyone else burst in loud conversations, swapping gossip and questions in the last few seconds before the bell.

“What freaks,” Carol said. “Ugh, did you see them holding hands? What are they? Like five?”

“Judging by their height…” Steve trailed off when Tommy laughed at the joke.

There was something kinda sad about the whole thing, really. Two kids showing up at Hawkins, to a place where everyone had pretty much gone to kindergarten together, looking and sounding like they would never fit in? It didn’t help that they showed up with Byers, who was as weird as Hargrove was douchey, but still…

Steve thought about the old clothes, how hard it would be to be brand new to a town in high school, and… yeah, it was kinda sad, really.

Weird too though. Who held their sister’s hand in high school?

Steve and Tommy had English together, which meant Steve had to race Tommy to the classroom and didn’t have time to do much more than wave at Nancy as he ran.

Nancy smiled shyly and raised a hand, which shouldn’t have given Steve lame butterflies in his stomach, but it did. Nancy didn’t hang around Steve’s friends, she was a sophomore and she was quiet, smart, sort of geeky. She was pretty though, sweet, and the best kisser in Steve’s list of kisses.

Everyone in first period was distracted with the gossip to pay any attention to the essay that Steve definitely needed to start soon. Everyone who didn’t see the twins wanted to know about them, everyone who did see them wanted to describe them over and over.

“The girl did not like Tommy,” Tammy said loudly, snapping her gum in Tommy’s direction only because Carol wasn’t there to scratch her eyes out for it. “I think she’s like totally in love with Byers.”

“Ugh, gross.” Lisa Demarco scrunched her nose while she twirled her hair around a finger. “Byers is such a sleezeball, she could do sooo much better.”

“You don’t even know her,” Tammy said.

“So? I know him.”

Steve laughed with the rest of his friends - or the people who played basketball and cheer and went to the same parties. Tommy was his friend, they had been hanging out since they could walk, both of them went to the same church and played basketball after service while their parents talked.

Tommy could be a dick sometimes, but he was Steve’s best friend.

“Bet ya I could get in her pants before Byers could,” Tommy bragged, kicking back in his chair and smirking. “Byers probably wouldn’t know what to do with a chick like that.”

“A chick like what? In love with her brother?” Steve asked, holding his own hand and swinging it around like a little kid would. “‘Oh, brother, come kiss me before Byers does’,” he said in his gayest and girliest voice.

“Eww! Steve!” The girls laughed and a few of them threw wadded up papers at Steve. If he picked any of them up, he wouldn’t be surprised to find at least one phone number.

Tommy picked up on Steve’s joke and they spent the rest of English ignoring their teacher and grossing the girls out while they made fun of Byers and the twins. It wasn’t nice, but it wasn’t like it hurt anyone either - Steve wasn’t doing it to their faces.

Algebra II was after English for Steve and he used the passing period before class started back up to find Nancy.

“Hiya.” Steve smiled his most handsome smile as he threw himself beside Nancy’s locker just as she opened hers up.

“Steve! Jeez!” Nancy’s hand flew to her chest and her eyes got real big for a second, she was so cute. She laughed shakily and pretended like Steve wasn’t charming. “You scared me,” she told him.

“I know.” Steve reached above Nancy and grabbed the book she needed, her French textbook, and proved how thoughtful he could be when he gave it to her. “For you, mademoiselle.”

Steve really hoped that meant pretty lady or something.

Nancy lowered her lashes and was grinning when she took it from him.

“Did you memorize my schedule?” she asked, a half-hearted accusation at best.

“What? No! Absolutely not! How could you accuse me of this?” Steve cried. He waited for Nancy to laugh before he winked, “Unless that seems like a romantic thing to do or whatever.”

“Yes, Steve, it’s so romantic to stalk people,” Nancy said. She wasn’t mad, she was flirting - Steve could tell.

“I wouldn’t have to memorize your schedule if you’d hang out with me later,” Steve said. He reached out for a lock of Nancy’s hair and played with it while he did his best puppy eyes. “Can I pick you up at six?”

“I can’t tonight,” Nancy told him. “I have to study.”

“I’ll help you study,” Steve offered immediately. He would too, if she wanted him too. Steve could hold flash-cards or something, quiz her on definitions. They didn’t have to go makeout in his car at the quarry, he just really wanted to.

“My parents are not going to let me leave tonight,” Nancy said. “Mike has his little friends coming over and I think I’m supposed to help babysit or whatever.”

“I’m a great babysitter,” Steve said, giving Nancy the smile that had literally made Lisa throw her panties at him during a JV game.

“Not tonight,” Nancy said. She didn’t say it very firmly, and she didn’t brush away Steve’s hair as he played with it. She just kind of said it, Steve thought he had all day to change her mind.

“How about this?” Steve leaned closer, close enough to smell Nancy’s toothpaste and see a little ink stain on her cheek. It was cute.

“How about you think about me helping you study or do homework or whatever you wanna do and then think about how, maybe, if I’m the best helper, you could walk me to my car at the end of the night… kiss me… maybe say how I’m the sweetest boy you’ve ever met before…”

“You are sweet,” Nancy said, Steve could see her melting in front of him. She giggled then, kind of ruining the moment, “I didn’t know King Steve was interested in so much romance.”

Steve held his smile, brushed off her comment, kept up the easy flirtation until the bell rang and they both had to get to second period. None of Steve’s friends were in Algebra II, Steve himself had barely made it in the class and he might have failed Algebra I better.

Or worse.

Whatever it was.

With nobody who really talked to him in his Algebra II class, Steve was free to slump down in the back of the class and kick himself for what he said to Nancy. Yeah, it would be cool if Steve had a real relationship with someone who wanted to do more than just makeout in his car. And what was so wrong with thinking that meeting Nancy’s parents and helping her study would be just fine? Everything didn’t have to be so - so much all the time.

Steve needed to chill, that was all. Nancy was interested in ‘King Steve’, she liked making out with that guy who played varsity basketball and hosted parties at his place. All Steve had to do was convince her to like him other times too. They’d get there, Steve was sure of it. Nancy wasn’t like other girls.

They could have more, if she let him.

With his new plan to chill in place, Steve didn’t go pester Nancy after second period, instead he hung out with Tommy in the bathroom while Tommy smoked and complained about Carol. Steve didn’t understand why Tommy kept dating her when he acted like he could stand her half the time. They had been together since like freshman year, maybe it was time for something new.

“You’re saying that because you’ve never seen her naked,” Tommy said when Steve suggested that. He sighed loudly, always over the top and dramatic, when he flushed his cigarette. “Something’s got a hold of me, man.”

“Poor Tommy, getting laid whenever he wants,” Steve said, patting Tommy’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “I’ll remember this when I’m the best man at the wedding.”

Tommy went pale and Steve laughed his ass off before he had to rush to his third period.

Third period, Steve would never admit it, was kind of his favorite. It was Home Ec, a class Steve thought might be an easy A for his GPA. Tommy and some of the other guys made a bunch of jokes about it, how Steve took a chick class, but Steve liked it.

The teacher, Ms Pirtle, was nice and would sometimes let Steve do homework for other classes there if they weren’t busy. Steve liked the in-class projects they did twice a month, especially since most of them involved making a huge meal that they all got to share. Also, Steve was the only guy in the class… which was totally rad.

Or… Steve used to be the only guy in the class… until that day.

Steve entered the classroom with a joke he heard on TV the night before on the tip of his tongue for Ms Pirtle and instead found her occupied with two students standing at her desk. Steve recognized them from their black hair and clothes, he didn’t need Lisa waving at him and pointing to know who they were.

Hammond Twins, that’s what they were being called in Steve’s second period. Apparently the guy that owned Benny’s Burgers was their uncle and they were staying with them since their parents died or were murdered or were killed by Soviet Spies.

Gossip got hard to keep up with after it got going, like how Steve imagined a train would.

Steve took a seat at the table he usually shared with Lisa, Tammy, and Chrissy Cunningham. The girls were staring at the twins, leaning forward to try and overhear whatever Ms Pirtle told them. Steve leaned his chair back and balanced it back and forth with his foot while he waited for class to start.

It was because Hawkins never had new students, that was all it had to be. Hargrove had been the first one since like fifth grade so everyone was tripping. Twins were kind of neat though, Steve didn’t know of any twins except for the little ones he saw at the park sometimes.

“I heard they were like conjoined at the head,” Lisa whispered, not very quietly. “They had to be homeschooled until the doctors separated them!”

“Oh my God, seriously?” Tammy practically stood up to get a better look at them. “That totally makes so much sense! Do you think they’re like brain damaged now?”

“Tammy!” Chrissy shook her head at Tammy and actually whispered. “That’s so mean! Maybe they’re totally nice and cool. Their uncle is so nice, he fixed my bike one time when I crashed it.”

“What do you think, Steve?” Lisa asked, smirking at Steve with her hooded blue eyes that Steve used to dig. ‘Sex eyes’, that was what Tommy used to call them.

“What do I think about what? Chrissy riding a bike?” Steve shrugged, pretending to not know what Lisa was asking, and blew a kiss toward Chrissy. “I think if you need a ride you could tell me.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes and pretended to swing at Steve. She was nice, sweet, a year younger than Steve. He tried, once, to ask her out but they realized real quick that they didn’t really have anything in common besides her cheering at Steve’s games. Steve thought she was seeing Jason, one of the few sophomores on the varsity team.

“Class! If I could have everyone’s attention?”

Everyone actually went silent when Ms Pirtle stood up, probably only because they knew it was going to involve the new kids. Steve had his chair back on two legs, the toe of his sneaker keeping himself balanced, when Ms Pirtle introduced them.

“I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our two newest students, Sirianna and Harry Hammond.”

Chrissy started clapping, like a freaking dingus, and Steve had been laughing at her when the twins turned to face the room and Steve got a good look at them both for the first time.

Fuck.

The momentary mocking of Chrissy for her polite clapping and the twins for existing probably turned to ringing laughter filling the room when Steve had tilted his chair back just a little too far and fell backward. Steve popped back up quickly, grinning sheepishly as he quickly ran a hand over his hair then fixed the chair.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, casting a curious look to where the twins were being ushered to the table beside his.

Steve had seen the girl, Sirianna (a weird freaking name) that morning, he didn’t realize her brother would pretty much be her identical twin. Shorter hair, more bored expression - but basically identical. Their eyes… man.

“Trade me.” Steve was quick to move Lisa and her chair over so that he could replace his chair on the side that would be closest to the twins. Lisa gave him a dirty look, but Steve was already sitting down and smiling as charmingly as he had ever done before.

“Since our new students are getting settled, why don’t we take turns checking in on our projects today?” Ms Pirtle said. “One at a time now, come up and show me what you have started with your book.”

“Hi.” Steve didn’t jump to join the line, he left his recipe book, the big year long project they had, at home anyway. Instead, Steve offered Sirianna his hand. “Steve Harrington,” he said.

Sirianna looked at Steve’s hand and then ignored it, setting Lisa off in catty giggles beside him.

“Sirianna,” she said. There was a hard twist of her lips. “Though I’m sure you knew that.”

“And Harry, right?” Steve leaned past Sirianna to offer Harry the same hand. “I’m Steve,” he said again.

Up close, Harry didn’t look bored really, more… tired? He had the same softness to his eyes and smudges beneath them that Steve had seen his mom rocking on the few instances she was home. He had a scar too, just a real faint silver scar in the middle of his forehead, must have been something from when he was a kid.

Harry didn’t say anything, he barely seemed to acknowledge Steve at all.

“So where are you from?” Steve asked Sirianna, since Harry was apparently mute or something.

“Albany,” Sirianna said, her eyes locked on the front of the class.

“That’s cool,” Steve said. He scooted his chair just a little bit closer. “Do you like Hawkins?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, cool.” Steve tried to shift around some, get either of them to look at him again. When that failed, he thought up a new question. “Do you like basketball?”

“No.”

“Uh… cool,” Steve said. He tried to lean back, get Harry’s attention. “Do you play?”

“He doesn’t,” Sirianna replied for him.

“What are you? Like his mouthpiece?” Lisa drawled, setting Tammy off in giggles.

“Shut up,” Chrissy hissed, ducking some when Ms Pirtle looked directly at them.

“Your uncle runs that diner, right?” Steve asked once the coast was clear, refusing to give up so easily. People didn’t really ignore him, not like Sirianna was and definitely not how Harry was. All Steve wanted was a little bit of something… some sort of idea if maybe the twins were going to suck as much as Hargrove.

Sirianna sighed and looked at her brother before turning to stare at Steve with the same glare she used on Tommy that morning.

“Our uncle owns the diner. Our parents are dead. We like Hawkins. We do not play basketball, cheerleading, or football. No, we were never physically attached to each other. Yes, my name is hilarious. I am not romantically involved with my brother or Jonathan Byers. Does that answer all your questions?”

Uh… no. No, Steve wasn’t going to ask her or say any of that. Well, maybe he would have asked if she did cheerleading, she was probably thin enough for it under the baggy clothes she wore. It was cool that she wasn’t with Byers though, and Steve never really thought she was like with her brother, that would have been disgusting.

Harry chose then to peer at Steve past his sister, just long enough for Steve to think that Harry might have been echoing his sister’s annoyance.

“I was going to say…” Steve looked away from Harry and focused on Sirianna. “You have pretty eyes.”

Finally - finally! Steve got a small reaction from Sirianna that didn’t seem to be unfair dislike! She rolled her eyes, that were pretty, they were a little less green than Harry’s, but still really nice.

Nancy had blue eyes, almost grey. Lisa had blue eyes, Chrissy had blue eyes. Steve was kind of surrounded by blue-eyed chicks, green was new. Green was nice.

Pretty.

Sirianna mumbled a quiet thanks and Steve grinned once more before Tammy yanked him in conversation with the girls.

“Are her eyes soo pretty, Steve?” Tammy asked, fluttering her lashes at him. “I thought Nancy’s eyes were soo pretty?”

“And I thought the creeps were already shacked up with the Mega Creep,” Lisa added loudly.

Steve sunk down in his seat, his stomach twisting some when everyone laughed at the twins. It was shitty, and Steve was quick to apologize to Sirianna as soon as class ended.

“Hey, Sirianna, Harry!” Steve followed the twins in the sophomore hallway and stopped them before they could go to the cafeteria for lunch. It was already not surprising to Steve that they were holding hands then, somehow. He got used to weird shit really quickly apparently.

Sirianna raised an eyebrow at Steve and he wasn’t sure why he thought she looked alien that morning when she seemed like kind of a normal chick then…

“I wanted to say sorry, about earlier,” Steve said. “That wasn’t cool, all the jokes.”

Harry lifted his head and looked at Steve, only half as unimpressed with him as his sister clearly was.

“It wasn’t,” Sirianna agreed, tricking Steve into relaxing with her calm voice. “You know what would have been ‘cool’? You saying that earlier, when the ‘jokes’ were happening.”

“I…” Steve was flustered under the weight of Harry’s gaze and Sirianna’s cutting words. Yeah, okay, Steve didn’t tell anyone to shut up like Chrissy tried to do a time or two, but it wasn’t like he said anything either.

“Goodbye.” Sirianna turned away from Steve and stormed down the hallway, her back straight in what seemed like determined confidence. Harry walked with her, just a step behind her, his hand still linked with hers.

It made Steve wonder if Harry was like… disabled or something. He looked normal, but Steve hadn’t heard him speak a single word so far.

And neither had anyone else, as far as Steve knew.

Everyone at lunch talked about the twins, talked about how weird they were, how attached at the hip they seemed. The juniors and sophomores shared a lot of classes in the small school and so plenty of Steve’s friends had been in at least one class with the twins.

“Maybe he’s got like downer syndrome, or something,” Carol suggested when Steve’s group moved on to theories about what made the twins so weird. Carol waved her fork around carelessly, “Like that kid who screams at the pool?”

“He has Down Syndrome, and he screams because the other snot noses don’t like to play with him,” Tammy huffed, like she cared. “And Harry doesn’t like have the face for it, you know? He’s got kind of a cute face, if you ignore all the faggy shit.”

Steve hadn’t said anything about the twins, his stomach kind of hurt when he thought about Sirianna being all too aware of the shit everyone was saying. He couldn’t help but gaping at Tammy then though, how could she know that? Harry didn’t even speak!

“He’s queer?” Steve asked, his stomach twisting even more. God, maybe he should have stayed home that morning.

“I mean… have you looked at him?” Tammy asked, smirking when Tommy laughed. “Maybe he’s the one screwing Byers and his guard dog holds his hand.”

The entire table of juniors burst in loud laughter while Steve quickly looked around, checking to see if Harry or Sirianna had to hear what Tammy said. They didn’t seem to be in the cafeteria, neither was Byers.

Steve cleared his throat and pushed his tray to Tommy, not feeling much like eating anymore.

“That’s not cool,” Steve said. It was quiet, only Tommy heard him, but he said it.

Whatever.

Steve tried to work on some homework during his study hall, mostly blocking out Tommy and his endless jokes about anyone and anything. There were only so many queer jokes that Tommy could make about Harry and Byers before it stopped being funny, like when he used to say ‘Your mom’ in response to everything.

Sixth period was Spanish, which mostly meant nap time for Steve. It wasn’t like he was going to end up with an A, as long as he completed it with at least a C before the end of his senior year. Mr Charmichael didn’t bother him and it gave Steve time to nap before PE - it was a win-win.

It didn’t really occur to Steve until he literally walked into the gym for his last class of the day, but… PE was separated into two groups for guys and girls. Juniors also shared PE with sophomores every day, made it easier to hold practice for the coaches who didn’t want to stay late, which meant that Harry was in Steve’s PE class.

Without Sirianna.

Coach blew his whistle, starting class without making any big thing about the guy standing awkwardly to the side of the group in the wrong clothes for class.

“Five laps!” he yelled, spurring everyone into action.

Steve took off automatically, pacing himself to stay just ahead of Hargrove and Jason. It was only a warmup, but Hargrove had it in his head that everything was a competition between them. Steve turned at the end of the gym, looked over his shoulder to check his lead, and instead got to see as Coach snapped at Harry to start running.

The guy was just standing there, looking bored out of his mind, staring at Coach like he didn’t understand what he was being told to do.

“Watch it.” Hargrove shouldered past Steve - even though there was plenty of freaking room - when Steve had paused to see if Harry was going to start running. Hargrove smirked at Steve over his shoulder as he took the lead and Steve puffed before running to catch up.

Steve was so not going to listen to Hargrove’s shit if he ‘won’ warmup laps.

Hargrove put some speed in it and when Steve slowed down when he passed Coach and Harry, Hargrove got to ‘win’ anyway.

“Tommy H!” Coach yelled for Tommy, who was goofing with Jason and Andy while they ran. It kind of looked like they were trying to trip Byers, which was another old joke of Tommy’s.

“Yes, sir, Coach, sir,” Tommy cried, snapping a salute.

“Take Hammond to get a uniform,” Coach said. He pointed at the boots on Harry’s feet. “And find some sneakers, I got a lost and found shelf in my office.”

Tommy, Jason, Andy, and half the class started cracking up, like it was the funniest thing they ever heard that some kid from Albany didn’t know he would need sneakers for gym. Steve rolled his eyes and stepped off the track that ran around the gym, offering to do it instead. If nothing else, at least Harry wouldn’t get tripped on his way to get a uniform and shoes.

Tommy winked at Steve with a shit-eating grin, maybe thinking that Steve wanted a chance to bug the new kid himself. Harry didn’t say anything, only followed Steve when Coach pointed for him to go.

“What size shoes do you wear?” Steve asked Harry as he led him to Coach’s office. Harry didn’t say anything, so Steve looked at his feet and tried to guess based on his own size.

“Eight, maybe?” he guessed with no response. Coach’s office wasn’t locked so Steve let them in and opened the cabinet where the school issued gym uniforms were stored. Most of the guys had their own gear, from football or basketball or whatever, but some guys didn’t play sports.

“You’re probably… a small?” Steve grabbed one of the white shirts off a shelf and held it up, nodding to himself when it looked about right. He dug through the green athletic shorts until he found a pair that looked like they would fit.

Harry probably wasn’t actually like disabled or whatever, because he took the clothes when Steve handed them to him and followed him to the next cabinet to dig through the lost and found. Maybe Harry just didn’t like to talk, whatever. He could be deaf, might be easier to get through school if he was.

“Woah, cool.” There was a ton of cool shit in the lost and found cabinet… Steve found a pair of sunglasses that he pocketed, then a small tub of hair gel that he pocketed much more sneakily. There were shoes too, a bunch of them.

There was one pair that Steve thought might have been girl sneakers, but they were faded enough that he couldn’t really tell and nobody else would notice. It was either those or a pair with a huge hole in the toe, they were the only ones that Steve thought might fit Harry.

“You know where the lockers are?” Steve asked him. Harry shook his head, his eyes locked on the clothes Steve gave him. Steve sighed, but directed him to a place he could change. The locker room was empty, kinda creepily quiet when it was usually filled with noise anytime Steve was in there.

“Alright, you can put your stuff in a locker in here.” Steve found an empty locker, the one by Byers, and pointed at it for Harry. “Showers are that way, toilets are there. Cool?”

Steve didn’t expect an answer, he was already walking away and planning on how to ignore Hargrove during class. He was almost to the doorway when he got an answer anyway.

“Thanks.”

It was quiet, maybe kind of shy? Like Harry could talk but he didn’t do it very often?

It definitely took the sting out of Hargrove’s crap during PE and Steve’s mild disappointment that he forgot to ask Nancy again for a date that night.

Chapter Text

Sirianna kept up a brave face all day, she didn’t let Harry see her scream or act scared. It probably wouldn’t have mattered, Harry had been in a foggy haze all day, making Sirianna feel guilty on top of miserable.

Going to Hawkins High School was a mistake. All Sirianna did was make mistakes. Over and over and over again.

It wouldn’t matter, it wouldn’t matter if Sirianna was the stupidest person in the world if her mistakes didn’t hurt Harry.

All day long Sirianna had to hear the worst kind of gossip about herself. Sirianna was used to gossip, Hogwarts students had made up stories about her since before she even stepped foot in the castle.

It was the vile, disgusting, cruel things that the Hawkins students said that had Sirianna burning the entire drive back to Benny’s diner. The students would say things - imply things - about Sirianna and Harry both while they laughed right in her face.

There had been one person who had been kind to Sirianna at that - that cesspool. Well, and Jonathan. Jonathan was quite kind, if painfully shy and unwilling to explain the ‘jokes’ Sirianna didn’t understand to her. He had at least still offered to drive Sirianna and Harry back to Benny’s, even after a great many of the cruel words had been aimed at him as well.

“You don’t have to pick us up tomorrow,” Sirianna told him when he pulled in the diner lot. It wasn’t far, they could walk if Sirianna could force herself to return for another day of misery.

Harry was already climbing out of the backseat where he had been sitting beside Jonathan’s younger brother, an equally shy boy named Will.

“I don’t mind,” Jonathan said, his fingers thrumming nervously on the steering wheel. “I mean - unless you’d rather not ride with me.”

“If - do you - I think people don’t like us,” Sirianna said, lowering her voice so Harry wouldn’t hear her. It made her throat swell to paint the picture for Jonathan, she didn’t want to take away Harry’s friend from him. “They won’t like you if you - if you let us ride with you.”

That was how children worked. They decided that someone was weird, a freak, and then disliked anyone who spent time with them. It didn’t matter, kids just decided to hate someone and then hated everyone around them.

Sirianna was used to her brother's reputation influencing her, but neither of them did anything to deserve the way they were treated all day. They had no famous backstory, there was no sensational story shadowing two kids who had only wanted friends and acceptance.

It made the children at Hawkins that much worse, they were judgemental and cruel because they felt like it.

Jonathan had been kind, he showed them a place in the library where they could all eat lunch together away from the comments - and at least at Hogwarts people had whispered their gossip at meals. Merlin, the students at Hawkins didn’t even try to hide their dislike and their cruelty.

It might have been a blessing that Harry didn’t seem to notice or care, Sirianna thought she might have used her fingernail to slice someone’s throat open if they hurt Harry.

“Sirianna,” Jonathan grinned crookedly at Sirianna through his window; sad, sweet. “They already don’t like me. I’ll see you at dinner and you can ride with us tomorrow.”

Sirianna swallowed her gratitude and raised a hand in farewell to Jonathan and Will as Jonathan carefully turned his car around and left the diner to drop Will off before returning for work.

Harry inched up beside Sirianna and Sirianna could feel his fingers ghosting beside hers, not grabbing though Sirianna knew he wanted to.

“I’ll try harder,” Harry said quietly, breaking Sirianna’s heart when she didn’t think it could ache any more. “I’m sorry. They - it was me, not you. It was loud, Siri.”

It had been loud. It had been almost too loud for Siri and Harry hated the noise. Harry hated the noise, he was safe when it was quiet.

Sirianna still closed her eyes and felt an angry and heartbroken tear make its way down her cheek when she thought about Harry shouldering the blame for other people's cruelty.

“You did great, Bubby,” Sirianna said calmly, all of her screaming trapped on the inside where it couldn’t hurt Harry. “You did really great.”

It wasn’t Harry’s fault that people were horrid, it never had been.

Benny seemed to take one look at Sirianna and told Garth to man the register until Jonathan returned for work so that they could ‘walk’. Sirianna wouldn’t have left Harry, not twice in one day, but he curled up in his booth in the corner and buried his face in his knees, probably not even realizing that Sirianna was going to leave.

She told him though, promised she wouldn’t go far and that she would be back. Harry hummed, which was enough.

“Rough day?” Benny asked, walking the familiar path between the diner and his house with her.

Sirianna didn’t want to complain to Benny, who had done so much for her and Harry. Sirianna didn’t want to whine and complain about school when she shouldn’t care.

“It was fine,” Sirianna said, looking away so she didn’t lie to Benny’s face.

Benny snorted, which made Sirianna feel like she shouldn’t have bothered lying in the first place.

“You wanna try again, kid?” Benny asked, perfectly calmly.

Sirianna would try again, she would lie better.

“It was horrible,” Sirianna said, the wrong word. Once it was out though, the rest started spilling. Sirianna told Benny about the horrid ‘jokes’ right from her arrival, the cruel taunts that Sirianna only half understood. Then her own frustration with not even understanding the insults! Sirianna explained how she had felt like an idiot all day, having no idea what a single thing in almost any of her classes meant.

When they reached the house and Benny didn’t tell Sirianna to shut up, she just kept going. It was like screaming in a mirror, she could say anything. Sirianna told Benny that it wasn’t fair that Harry was called names for something as innocent as holding her hand and that it wasn’t fair to make Sirianna attend a gym class away from her brother because she was a girl.

“There was one girl.” Sirianna wiped her face off from where she had slumped against the side of the house. She didn’t mean to cry, didn’t want Benny to think she was ungrateful for everything he had done for her.

“Yeah? Nice girl?” Benny asked. He had smoked probably three cigarettes since Sirianna started ranting and he lit another one then while he waited for her to answer.

“Er…” Sirianna considered the question. Had she been nice? Yeah, she had. Sirianna had been sort of sobbing in the loo, hiding in a stall when she was meant to be in gym without her brother. When someone knocked, Sirianna shouted for them to go away.

“Do you need a tampon?” a soft voice had asked. It had been a pretty voice, one that Sirianna would have thought sounded kind if she had any illusions left that anyone in Hawkins High was ‘kind’. Even the boy who said Sirianna had pretty eyes had also been laughing at her, at Harry, that very morning.

“No,” Sirianna said, hiccuping and bracing her foot against the stall door. It couldn’t keep out laughter and horrible comments, but it could keep one girl at least a leg’s length away from Sirianna.

“A smoke then?”

Sirianna looked down when a slim and pale hand snuck under the door, a cigarette and lighter held on her palm.

“I…” Sirianna had to pause to blow her nose, she was so stuffy she didn’t think anyone could even understand her. Once she was able to breathe properly, Sirianna checked to be sure there was only one girl out in the bathroom.

Sirianna opened the stall door slowly and saw that the girl making the offer was the pretty one, the girl with the red hair and blueish-greenish eyes. They had quite a few classes together and Sirianna had admired her outfit during their home economics class.

“I don’t smoke,” Sirianna said, embarrassed to be caught doing something so pathetic and childish by someone who seemed so cool and pretty.

It made her feel like a girl she used to go to school with, Hermione Granger, to be caught crying in the loo. Sirianna thought Hermione was a bit of a baby when she had been the one to catch her, she shouldn’t have.

“If anyone asks…” The girl… Sirianna thought maybe her name was Christina? Christy? Something like that. Whatever her name was, she grinned at Sirianna and there was something mischievous about it. “I don’t either.”

The girl lit the cigarette and offered it to Sirianna, who decided that trying cigarettes was a better option than returning to the gym where she was expected to listen to mean girls mock her skinny legs, her plain face, her awkward gait when she used to be the best tree climber in Gryffindor.

“Thanks,” Sirianna told the girl after a few minutes of not horrible silence. Sirianna’s coughs kept it from being too quiet and the girl didn’t even laugh about them.

“No problem,” she said. She stubbed the cigarette out in the sink and smiled at Sirianna, the first genuine smile Sirianna had seen all day. “I’m Chrissy, by the way. Rad hair, I wish mine was that long.”

Sirianna should have been kind, offered a tampon and then a cigarette to Hermione, back at Hogwarts. It could have made such a difference, if only for a short time.

“Yeah,” Sirianna told Benny. “She was nice.”

“Good.” Benny’s eyes crinkled when he smiled at Sirianna. “You only need one good one, you know? And you’ll win the other ones over too, Sirianna, I know you will. Hell, I only had one good buddy in school. Kids used to pick on me too, you know.”

“They did?” Sirianna asked, unable to imagine it. Benny was so kind, so seemingly good. He was tall, not too skinny or too pale or ‘bug-eyed’. Sirianna couldn’t imagine someone not liking Benny.

“Oh yeah,” Benny nodded. He patted his stomach with one hand and grimaced. “They used to call me Big Ben, Whale-Boy, I heard it all.”

“That’s horrible!” Sirianna cried, her eyes watering up again. Sirianna knew that she had certainly cried more in one day than she had that day before, but it didn’t mean that she was thrilled by the endless tears she seemed to be drowning herself in.

“Eh.” Benny waved a hand, his eyes twinkling. “I got mad one day, socked out this real prick, Jacob Wood. Wham, bam,” Benny swung the same hand like he was throwing a punch before he grinned again. “Thought I’d get expelled, my ma would have wailed me out. Instead, the football coach put me on the football team and nobody called me fat again.”

Sirianna blinked at Benny while she considered a similar enough story that they shared.

Wasn’t that sort of how Sirianna had been appointed to Gryffindor’s quidditch team? Draco Malfoy had been making fun of a quiet boy, Neville Longbottom. Sirianna lost her temper when Malfoy stole Neville’s gift from his grandmother and they had a sort of fight…

Ron told her she was a right Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall told Sirianna that she was as great of a flier as her father had been.

Somehow, Sirianna had forgotten about that girl, that Gryffindor. Sirianna let the White Coats torture that girl and that girl was the one who hid in a loo… but that girl might be who Sirianna needed, if only to never hear her brother apologize to her ever again.

Sirianna gave herself a stern pep-talk while she showered the next morning. Sirianna did not let catty girls hurt her brother's feelings. Sirianna had looked in the face of monsters, she had defied death itself. Sirianna couldn’t be killed when she was a baby and she wouldn’t hide in a loo again like a coward.

Sirianna survived over three years of torture at the hands of witches and wizards who disguised their cruelty as experiments. What did a few mean kids mean to Sirianna? To Harry?

Nothing. They were nothing.

Sirianna stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair and tried to pull it up in the high ponytail that she had seen other girls wearing. Sirianna wasn’t pretty, she wasn’t smart, she wasn’t anything really. But she had never been a coward before and Sirianna wouldn’t let some children make her into one.

As satisfied as she would be, Sirianna nodded to herself once more in the mirror, feeling a little like she was headed to war, then collected Harry and his book bag for the short walk to the diner. Harry yawned while they walked, he hadn’t slept well the night before. Harry dreamed, a lot, and even if he didn’t cry out in his sleep, he did thrash and kick.

Sirianna thought she might have a bruise on her leg from his heel, but she certainly wouldn’t complain. Harry wasn’t complaining about having to return to Hawkins High, even though Sirianna saw his deep disappointment when she woke him up to get ready.

“Today’s going to be better,” Sirianna swore to Harry while they walked to meet Jonathan. “We’re going to hold our heads high, remember who we are, and things will get better. They already are, right? Things are better? Benny’s nice and we have food and clothes and freedom. So everything will keep getting better, Har, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said. He seemed to be dragging his feet through the leaves, kicking them up as he forced himself to follow Sirianna.

Sirianna didn’t know if Harry believed her or not, but he might have. Harry usually trusted her, Sirianna had to deserve it at some point.

Benny was already up and in the kitchen of the diner when Sirianna and Harry entered to wait inside for Jonathan. Sirianna left her bag by Harry, who stood by the door and stared at the parking lot as if it were his job to watch for any possible threat arriving, and went to tell Benny they were leaving.

Sirianna paused by the register, a glossy bag catching her attention for a moment. It was a gift bag, a sparkly green one. Sirianna didn’t know who it belonged to, only that it hadn’t been there the night before when Sirianna, Harry, Benny, and Jonathan had closed the diner.

“Benny?” Sirianna thought she heard the crunch of tires on gravel and she hastily stuck her head through the kitchen door to find Benny. Sirianna couldn’t be late, not when she had a plan.

“You leavin’?” Benny asked, looking up from where he fried eggs for Langley and the others who would arrive shortly.

“I am.” Sirianna smiled, a true smile of gratitude. “I have a plan,” she told him. “I can’t be late.”

“Alright then.” Benny chuckled and flipped the eggs. “I’ll be waiting to hear all about it later.”

“Bye!”

“Hey, kid?”

Sirianna paused, turning back to Benny even when she could see Harry staring at her, Jonathan’s car in the lot outside the glass door.

“You’re gonna do fine, Sirianna,” Benny told her. “Tough times don’t last, but hearts like yours do.”

Sirianna could feel her heart swelling, soaring at the praise. It - it was probably the nicest thing that anyone had ever said to her in her entire life.

“Thank you,” Sirianna told him, waving her hand so she didn’t start her day by crying. “I - I’m so grateful Harry knocked on your door, Benny. I have to go now, thank you!”

Benny chuckled as Sirianna rushed away and she wanted to think that she heard him say he was grateful too, but it could have - must have - been her own imagination running wild.

Sirianna convinced herself that she could slay dragons, that didn’t make life a fairytale.

“Oh, where’s Will?” Sirianna had climbed in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car and turned to check that Harry was nestled in the back safely when she realized that the younger Byers wasn’t in the car.

“I think he stayed with a friend last night,” Jonathan said, his eyes ticking up to the mirror as if to remind himself that Will wasn’t in the backseat. “He’ll ride his bike to school with Mike.”

“Oh, okay,” Sirianna said, hating that she felt jealous of a little boy who had a sleepover. Sirianna assumed that the rest of the car ride would be in silence, since neither Harry nor Jonathan tended to talk much.

Harry apparently had other plans.

“I know how to ride a bike.”

Sirianna turned in her seat, surprised, just as Jonathan quickly glanced up in the rearview mirror. It was Harry who said it, Sirianna couldn’t immediately fathom what compelled him to.

“I’ll try harder.”

Harry nodded his head for Sirianna, he must have felt her looking at him because he was staring out the window, and Sirianna once again thought she might start crying.

“Cool,” Jonathan said.

Sirianna beamed at her brother, sure he would see it.

“Very cool,” Sirianna assured Harry.

Harry was trying, Sirianna had a plan, and things had to keep getting better for them. Even if Sirianna didn’t deserve good things, Harry did, and they were quite the combined package.

The lot at the school was filled with students again, even more than the day before, Sirianna thought. It filled her stomach with fizzling nerves and she questioned if her plan was really a good one or not… there were so many people… staring… watching…

But Harry was trying and Sirianna had been chosen for Gryffindor - she had been brave - and Sirianna used to know how to deal with cruelty. When it was children, people her age, Sirianna used to be someone who stood up against it, never hid in a loo from it.

It felt like everyone was staring at her when Sirianna stepped out of Jonathan’s car, someone had even giggled at the sight of her, which made Sirianna worry briefly that she had done her hair the wrong way. It didn’t matter though, it didn’t. It was a high ponytail, Sirianna knew how to do a ponytail right.

“You guys coming?” Jonathan paused by the boot of his car when Sirianna held Harry back, just for a chance to make sure she wasn’t going to terrify her brother.

“We’ll catch up,” Sirianna told him. She added a smile for good measure, grateful that Jonathan was still Harry’s friend even though it certainly didn’t win him any points with his peers. As soon as Jonathan started to walk to the school, Sirianna tipped her head closer to Harry’s so she wouldn’t be overhead.

“Do you remember when Malfoy tried to get us in trouble? When we were playing catch with Fang?” she asked.

Harry shook his head after a moment, his eyebrows twitched down in thought.

Sirianna remembered, she remembered very well how Malfoy had tried to rile Harry into pulling his wand on him, then threatened to tell on him for ‘dueling on the lawns’. Malfoy didn’t know that Sirianna had heard him, she was only fetching the stick that Fang refused to get. And when Malfoy saw her, Sirianna made sure that he kept his stupid mouth shut around Harry for the next month.

Honestly, nothing could probably have kept Malfoy quiet for longer than a month. Sirianna longed for the days when she had considered him to be her worst problem.

“Well, I made him stop and I’ll do it again,” Sirianna promised Harry. “You - you don’t have to do anything, I’ll handle it, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said.

When he went to take her hand so that they could follow Jonathan, get away from the watching eyes, Sirianna realized that her plan was going to have to be used first thing.

“Aww, Hammond and Hammond, sitting in a tree… F-U-C-K-I-N-G.”

Sirianna felt her face flame dark red and she dropped Harry’s hand immediately so that she could spin around and search for who had - had sang such a disgusting song. It didn’t take long for Sirianna to find who she was looking for, it was the girl who smirked at Sirianna while it felt like every other student in the lot laughed and laughed.

Harry shrank down and Sirianna told him to catch up to Jonathan while she stormed across the lot, forcing herself to remember that she had slayed dragons before, she had seen evil and no girl with ratty auburn hair and a butt chin was going to take something from her that the White Coats didn’t.

“You think that’s amusing?” Sirianna demanded, stomping directly through the crowd of students, pretending that she wasn’t feeling closed in by them, and getting directly in front of the girl. “Do you really think that you’re funny?”

“Oooh, you made her angry,” one of the stupid boys laughed, elbowing his friend, Steve, the one who said Sirianna had pretty eyes, beside him. Steve didn’t laugh, he didn’t look at Sirianna either though. He was a coward, they were all cowards just trying to pick on someone they thought wouldn’t fight back.

“I do, actually.” The girl popped a bubble right in Sirianna’s face and continued to smirk with her red painted lips. “Oh, you might not understand it. You see, F-U-C-K-I-N-G spells—”

“You’re such a freak,” Malfoy had spit at Harry, his fists clenched at his sides while Harry’s wand shook as it aimed at him. “Take a joke, Potter. It’s no wonder only Nott hangs out with you, who else would want to?”

“So that wasn’t you who tried to be Harry’s friend on the train?”

When Malfoy turned around, clearly unaware that Sirianna had heard every mean word he said to Harry, Sirianna pulled her fist back and then aimed it directly at Malfoy’s face.

“Dueling isn’t the same as fighting,” Sirianna sang cheerfully, walking around the wailing boy to return to Harry. “Make sure you mention that when you tattle to get me in trouble with Snape.”

Sirianna received two detentions and lost twenty points from Gryffindor, but Malfoy looked over his shoulder every time before he said anything even mildly unpleasant to Harry.

Sirianna did the same thing to the girl, slamming her fist in her face before she could so much as finish her sentence. She had worried, when she made her plan, about not being able to fight as well as she did when she was eleven. Sirianna used to be tough, fast, strong. The White Coats took that, but they gave her a fire of hatred in her stomach that never seemed to extinguish itself.

And Sirianna didn’t need muscle when she had hatred, it seemed.

The one hit was enough to knock the girl backwards, making her hit her head on the maroon car that she had been leaning on. Sirianna bounced away from her when the girl shrieked and then stood tall, preparing for the girl to fight back.

“You BITCH!” The girl screamed at Sirianna with a small dot of blood beneath one nostril and watery eyes that were narrowed in hate. “I’ll kick your freaky ass!”

Sirianna heard people insulting her all day the day before. Even if she didn’t understand some of the insults, the things that felt like innuendos and made her burn with odd shame, Sirianna still picked up enough curse words to have for her own use.

“Try it then, cunt fucker,” Sirianna taunted her, letting all her anger out on one mean girl. “Unless you’re a coward.”

Coward didn’t seem to have the same bite as ‘cunt fucker’ (which Sirianna very much didn’t understand fully but knew it must have been an insult), but the girl shoved past the boy who tried to check on her nose so he could swing right back at Sirianna.

Sirianna wasn’t as fast as she used to be, but it wasn’t hard to duck and swing her leg out. The girl barely avoided being kicked, she lunged for Sirianna then, grabbing her by her hair.

“HEY! CAROL! Come on, cool it!” Steve yelled at the girl, Carol - Sirianna forgot - while Sirianna twisted and turned to get her to let go of her hair. When she wouldn’t, Sirianna clawed out wildly and tried to dig her nails in Carol’s skin so deep that she would have scars to remind her of their fight.

“I said —” Steve lunged for Carol, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her away from Sirianna. Carol’s sharp nails took Sirianna’s scrunchie, the one that Chrissy let her use for gym class, with her and Sirianna’s felt Carol’s skin cells beneath her fingernails. “— that’s ENOUGH!”

“Freak!” Carol spit at Sirianna, looking as deranged as Sirianna felt. “You fucking freak! You should be locked up!”

Sirianna flinched - did she know? Did someone tell her? Were the White Coats involved with Hawkins High School? - before she realized that Carol probably meant jail.

Jail would be a breeze, Sirianna was sure.

“Be sure to mention that when you tattle on me,” Sirianna said, sweeping a hard glare at all of the students who had been laughing. They weren’t laughing anymore, were they?

Nobody was laughing, not the entire time that Sirianna turned around to walk to the school with her head as high as she could keep it, and not when she stepped inside the door and was immediately confronted by the grim face of the principal.

“Miss Hammond, my office,” Principal Higgins said sternly.

Sirianna swallowed and nodded, hoping very much that Benny wasn’t going to be furious when he received a phone call soon.

Sirianna sat in the hallway outside of the principal’s office not twenty minutes later, her skin itching with the need to go find Harry.

Was he okay? Was he worried about her? Were people bothering him?

Sirianna didn’t know and she needed to know.

Higgins was unable to get ahold of Benny, Sirianna helpfully told him that Benny would be at the diner, in the middle of the breakfast rush. Higgins told her to wait in the hallway until he spoke with him, claiming that he wanted to inform Benny of what happened before he decided on an ‘appropriate punishment’.

It wasn’t ‘appropriate’ to make Sirianna wait in a corridor when she could wait just as easily with Harry. Sirianna’s leg was bouncing up and down, in time with the nerves frying from inside her stomach.

Sirianna really hoped Harry was alright. She hoped that she didn’t make anything worse for him, she hoped it was better at least a little.

Merlin, what was taking so long?!

Just when Sirianna started to stand up, deciding that she would go find Harry on her own, footsteps turned down the corridor she waited in. Sirianna paused, standing halfway up, and her breath caught in her throat at the figure who appeared.

It was a boy, though not boy at all, who moved with a sort of confident strut, like the space surrounding him belonged just to him. Sirianna’s gaze roamed slowly up his body, taking in every detail about him; his long legs, covered in tight and dark jeans, covering what Sirianna could tell were lean muscles. He had on a white top, stretched across his chest, with thick arms also hidden beneath a slick leather jacket.

There was a chain around his neck, a gold chain that Sirianna could see resting on his chest, almost covered by long and curly hair.

It was the boy’s face that made Sirianna feel rooted to the spot, the face that was giving her its sole attention. A strong jaw, slight stubble the same dark blonde color as his hair, and lips that were twisted in a smirk when he must have noticed that Sirianna was gawking.

Sirianna didn’t forget about the way her brain whispered at her to find Harry, check on Harry. What if he’s dead?! She merely continued ignoring the increasingly loud voice when the boy stopped right in front of Sirianna, close enough that she could smell tobacco and - and something that smelled sort of spicy, a boy’s smell… a man’s, really.

“Hey.” The boy had a husky voice, one that made Sirianna’s stomach do a dozen barrel rolls eighty feet in the sky. “Billy,” he said.

“Sure.”

The boy’s stormy blue eyes lit up with something and his smirk somehow deepened.

“My name,” he said slowly, “is Billy.”

This is a joke.

Sirianna mentally slapped herself, then did it once more for good reason. It was a boy, probably a stupid and cruel boy. A boy named Billy… which - which was a great name, really. Sirianna liked the name Billy, she thought it might have been a nickname actually. A wonderful nickname.

“Hi,” Sirianna said, sounding so horribly awkward. It was awful, how hard it was to fit in with the others.

“Mind if I sit?” Billy pointed at the bench Sirianna still stood in front of. “It’ll save Higgins time to call me down if I’m already here.”

“Yeah, yes, okay,” Sirianna agreed quickly, sitting down hard enough that it nearly hurt. “I’m Higgins, if you didn’t know. Why will Sirianna call you here?”

Oh. Oh Merlin.

Oh no.

Sirianna wasn’t just stupid and unable to socialize… she was a - a freak. Why did she say that? Why couldn’t she control her mouth?!

There seemed to be equal odds that Sirianna was either going to cry or start running - grab her brother, settle in a new town, never look back.

To Sirianna’s never-ending surprise, Billy sat down beside her, his legs stretched out comfortably with his right leg almost brushing her left, and he chuckled. He didn’t laugh in her face, didn’t point and snicker like so many others.

Billy chuckled like Sirianna was somehow funny instead of an absolute freak.

“Sirianna should absolutely call me anytime,” Billy said, his voice going low and a smolder in his eyes. It made Sirianna’s insides hot, like she would melt from the inside out. “Higgins though? He’ll call me once the fuckin’ kid whose nose I broke reports it.”

“You broke someone’s nose?” Sirianna asked, the unexpected helping her sound less mortifying. “Why?” she asked. Billy didn’t look like he had been in a fight, he looked perfect, peaceful.

Billy was beautiful; he seemed so strong, handsome, and confident. Sirianna couldn’t imagine anyone saying horrible things about him, why would they want to?

“Talk shit, get hit,” Billy said. He leaned back and stretched an arm out, placing it behind Sirianna - if she also leaned back, they would be touching and the idea filled her with a terrified sort of nausea.

“Oh,” Sirianna said, understanding that well enough. Wasn’t that almost precisely what she did to Carol?

“I saw your fight,” Billy said casually. “Don’t mind Carol, she’s a complete bitch.”

Sirianna stiffened up in her spot when Billy touched a lock of her loose hair that she had worked so hard to put in a cool ponytail that morning.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, the heat inside her going cold. It was suddenly suffocating, sitting beside someone with such a strong presence. Sirianna stood up and crossed to the other side of the corridor, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Excuse me,” Billy said, somehow mocking Sirianna with his drawl even though he held his palms up innocently.

Sirianna scowled at him then at the floor then at the clock that must have been broken. It couldn’t have been only thirty minutes, it felt as if Sirianna had been away from Harry for hours.

Was he okay? Was Jonathan still sitting by him in their shared classes? Sirianna really hoped so.

“Hey.” Billy reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, different than the ones that Chrissy had the day before. There was amusement in Billy’s eyes, something of a challenge in his voice. “Since we’re both going to be suspended soon anyway, you want a smoke?”

Suspended?

“You - I’m going to be suspended?” Sirianna asked, her eyes widening. She couldn’t be suspended, she thought maybe - maybe a detention or two! What would Harry do all day without her? What would she do without him?

“Yeah, at least a day.” Billy shrugged again, nearly the perfect picture of nonchalance. “It’s my second time, so I’ll probably have two days.”

There was a tick to his jaw, a single jump of the muscle there that told Sirianna he might have actually cared a little more than he acted. That was only a small note in her mind, the rest of it was fully distracted by the idea of Harry being left alone because she really couldn’t do anything right.

“I didn’t know,” Sirianna groaned. She slammed her own head back against the wall and winced at the sharp pain. That was great, terrific really. What she really needed was a headache caused by even more wrong decisions.

“I can’t stand here all day,” Sirianna complained. She turned on her heel and began striding away, deciding that if they were going to suspend her that she would at least go check on Harry in the meantime.

Sirianna heard Billy rising to follow her, or to go outside, something. It didn’t matter, Sirianna was distracted by the whisper of concern in her head that had turned into a full scream — FIND HARRY, CHECK ON HARRY, WHAT IF HE’S DEAD?!

Sirianna thought that she would feel it if Harry were dead, surely she would stop breathing if he did, but the place in her chest that ached sometimes, the place that didn’t belong to her, was still, silent. Did that mean Harry was fine or that his body, his heart, was still, silent?

“Left.”

Sirianna had paused in the intersection of hallways, all of them looking exactly the same to her with as blind as she felt. She jumped when she realized Billy was still beside her and shook her head, trying to clear away the screaming.

“What?” she asked. Was the school spinning? Was it real? A trick by the White Coats?

Sirianna clutched her chest. Was she breathing? Or was that Harry in pain and she couldn’t find him?!

“Left,” Billy said, loudly and slowly. “You’re looking for your brother, right? Quiet as shit, weird fuckin kid? Turn left.”

Sirianna’s next breath came a little easier and she was able to scowl fiercely at Billy.

“My brother is not weird,” she said. “You - none of you - you’ve got no idea. None.”

It was so unfair. Everyone who saw Harry had no idea who he was, what he had been through. Sirianna would like to see any of them deal with a fraction of what Harry had! Harry was the strongest person Sirianna knew.

There was a scar in the middle of the eyebrow that Billy lifted, the movement making him look momentarily interested before it dropped and he was arrogant, cocky, smirking.

“Whatever you say, kitten,” Billy said, winking and causing Sirianna to feel even worse when heat flooded her cheeks. “Find your not weird brother on your own.”

Billy walked right past Sirianna, getting halfway down the corridor that looked too much like the others, before Sirianna called after him.

“Wait!” she said, grimacing at the necessity. “Will you - do you know where he is?”

Sirianna thought they had… English, first? It was definitely a class that talked about books, Sirianna remembered hoping that it would catch Harry’s interest first thing.

It hadn’t.

“I might.” Billy leaned against the lockers and he was so arrogant, so - so handsome. “I help you see that baby bird didn’t fly the nest, you come outside with me.”

That… that didn’t make any sense.

“You would blackmail me into sneaking outside to smoke with you instead of telling me where my brother is?” Sirianna asked. What a - a cunt fucker!

“I mean you could keep running around the hallways, looking like a spaz. It’s doing wonders for this reputation you’re building,” Billy wheedled her. “Unless you’re scared to be alone with me.”

Sirianna was not scared, certainly not of a boy named Billy. It was a stupid name.

“Fine,” she spat, letting her anger speak for her again.

The absolute nerve of him. He must be exceptionally lonely, Sirianna decided when Billy turned around to guide her to the classroom where Harry would be. There was no other explanation for why he would blackmail her into going outside with him.

“And there’s little baby bird,” Billy boldly stood outside one of the classroom doors and gestured through the glass window. “Safe and sound, tucked in Byers’ pocket.”

Sirianna edged up to the door, more subtle than Billy, and peeked up through the window after he moved to give her space.

Harry was in the classroom, in the back beside Jonathan. Sirianna’s desk was empty, all except for one foot of Harry’s, absently stretched out and wrapped around the desk leg. Sirianna watched him from the corner of the window and wished that she could see inside his head, know what he was thinking.

When Harry’s eyes went blank and Sirianna wasn’t around him… was it peaceful or was it so agonizing that he would scream if he dared open his mouth?

Harry didn’t look bothered by Sirianna’s absence. She even got to see Jonathan lean toward Harry, his lips moving in some comment she couldn’t hear, and Harry - Harry replied.

“Okay,” Sirianna said, her voice as dull as Harry’s eyes. “He’s fine.”

If Harry could be fine… Sirianna could be fine.

It was chilly outside, not so bad that Sirianna was cold, but the wind was enough to ruffle the colorful posters pinned to a board by the front of the school. Sirianna paused when one caught her eye, a Halloween Party being held at another school in Hawkins.

Halloween…

Sirianna crumpled the flier in her hands and stuffed it deep in the pocket of the jumper she wore. Billy must have noticed the frown she wore because he teased her even while he walked so confidently toward a pretty blue car in the lot.

“Halloween not your thing, kitten?” he asked. “You don’t want to get all dressed up in matching costumes with baby bird?”

“Quit calling him baby bird,” Sirianna said, annoyed and unsure why she had followed Billy outside. Sirianna didn’t even enjoy smoking with Chrissy the day before, having someone be kind had been more calming than the smoke.

Billy managed to smirk at Sirianna even while he leaned against the hood of the blue car, Sirianna hoped it was his when he propped a boot against the gleaming front end, and lit a cigarette. He took a long draw off it, then blew the smoke directly at Sirianna’s face.

He was foul. Beautiful and foul.

“Go out with me tonight and I’ll never call him baby bird again,” Billy said.

Sirianna blinked. Blinked again.

“Go with you where?” she asked, sure that Billy didn’t mean ‘go out’ like how Fred Weasley had asked Angelina Johnson to go out with him. He meant ‘go out’ like how he had blackmailed Sirianna into going outside with him.

“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go,” Billy said, his voice dripping with… with something. He dropped his head and looked at Sirianna through sharp eyes in a - a… well, it was a kind of coy expression, wasn’t it?

“I - er - I don’t want to go anywhere,” Sirianna stammered. Her embarrassment seemed to amuse Billy and in retaliation she leaned forward and snatched the cigarette from him. It didn’t seem to work, Billy only laughed at her when Sirianna tried smoking it the way Chrissy had shown her.

It was still disgusting tasting, but slightly less so than before.

“You’re really in a rush to get back to your place?” Billy leaned closer and took the cigarette back. Sirianna felt a thrill go through her when their fingers brushed and it was more of the same nauseating excited terror that she felt earlier.

Billy was… he was intense.

“Where else would I want to go?” Sirianna asked, tucking her hands in her jumper pocket and shaking her head when Billy offered the cigarette back.

“Back seat of my car.”

Sirianna looked at the car and it was pretty, but that didn’t mean she wanted to ride in the backseat of it? Sirianna barely enjoyed riding with Jonathan and she had a feeling that he was a much better driver than Billy would be.

“You think I’d rather be in the backseat of your car than at Benny’s diner?” Sirianna asked.

Billy tilted his head to the side and Sirianna could see his muscles tightening beneath the white shirt; he really had no business being so… that.

“I’d be in the backseat with you.”

“Then who would drive?”

Sirianna was mystified, all the more so when Billy threw his head back and barked out a laugh that was at least as exasperated as it was amused.

“God, you’re something else,” Billy said, his posture relaxing after the abrupt laughter. When Billy wasn’t smirking and doing the strange flexing thing with his arms, he was… he was just a boy.

“If you say so,” Sirianna said.

“So…” Billy inhaled again and blew his smoke to the side, away from Sirianna. “Where you from? Not this shit hole, I’m sure.”

“Albany,” Sirianna said, the lie automatic by then. “Do you not like it here?” she asked, saving ‘shit hole’ as another curse to use if she needed it.

“Me?” Billy flashed a mouthful of straight white teeth at her. “Nah, I just moved here from California.”

“Oh.” Sirianna took half a step closer to Billy when he offered her the cigarette again. Even if it tasted bad, it still warmed her and had helped quiet the voice in her head screaming for Harry. It wasn’t gone, it never was, but it was quieter.

It made sense why Billy might have wanted Sirianna to go outside with him too. He was new, she was new, they were both idiots being suspended. With Sirianna’s confusion over why he was talking to her gone, it was more comfortable standing outside, sharing a cigarette.

“How bad’s it going to be when you get home?” Billy asked Sirianna when he finished burning the very last of the cigarette.

Sirianna wasn’t sure what Billy meant. Was Benny going to be mad? It… probably? Sirianna hadn’t considered Benny being angry. He had been the one to tell Sirianna that story about hitting his bully…

“I don’t know,” Sirianna said, frowning. Benny being angry with her didn’t scare Sirianna, Harry being upset and shivering and kicking in her sleep did scare her.

Sirianna closed her eyes and hated that she knew Harry wouldn’t complain, wouldn’t whine. Harry would shoulder Sirianna’s stupidity and keep going.

“Bad,” Sirianna said tightly. Harry would pretend to be fine and it would be more effective of a punishment to Sirianna than any suspension or discipline on Benny’s part could be.

Billy said nothing until Sirianna sucked in a deep breath and let the cool air, the taste of fall and freedom, fill her lungs. When Sirianna opened her eyes back up, she found them locked in Billy’s blue-eyed gaze.

There was a storm of emotion in Billy’s eyes, more than she had seen from him so far. It made him seem soft, kind. The low voice he used made all of his intensity shift into something - something else.

“You know that playground just a few blocks from your diner?” Billy asked. “You probably drove past it for Byers to drop his brother off at the middle school?”

Sirianna knew what playground Billy meant and nodded.

“There’s a road between the trees by the playground, it leads down to a quarry. If shit gets bad, I’ll be there.”

“Oh.” Sirianna blinked in some bemusement at the offer. It would be awful when Sirianna had to tell Harry that she wouldn’t be at school with him the next day, she didn’t know how leaving him to go to a quarry would somehow help matters.

It was still kind though, kind of Billy to offer.

Sirianna didn’t get a chance to thank Billy before the front door of the school was thrown open with a bang that they both heard from the lot. Sirianna cringed at the principal who barked both of their names with his hands on his hips.

Billy straightened up and all of his cockiness, his easy arrogance, was back in place at once, leaving Sirianna to wonder who Billy really was when nobody was around.

“Play your cards right and I’ll even show you that backseat, kitten,” Billy winked before he began swaggering to the school with his hands in his pockets.

Sirianna cast one more curious gaze at Billy’s car over her shoulder as she hustled to face the music.

What on earth was so special about that backseat??

Sirianna, as it turned out, was not suspended from school.

Principal Higgins said that he couldn’t get ahold of Benny and had decided to give Sirianna a warning and after-school detention rather than a suspension. Sirianna was lectured about violence not being tolerated and that it was only because the secretary heard ‘rumors’ that she was being given a more lenient punishment.

Billy sat outside the office and winked at Sirianna when she was sent to class and he was called in. Sirianna couldn’t exactly help her blush, though she was pleased that she didn’t stutter when she wished him luck.

Second hour had already began and Sirianna gave herself a moment to pause outside of the classroom she had been pointed to by the secretary.

Everyone was going to stare at her. They were going to stare and Carol’s friends were going to glare at Sirianna.

As long as they didn’t bother Harry, it would have been worth it.

Sirianna inhaled… the Hat chose her for Gryffindor… She exhaled… Sirianna had faced true monsters.

Then she knocked on the classroom door and found that maybe - maybe she wasn’t an idiot after all.

There were plenty of states when Sirianna entered the classroom and handed her note to the teacher. She was pointed toward her seat and… nothing.

No whispers, no laughter, no horrible jokes at Harry’s expense.

Sirianna didn’t like when it was quiet, but she liked it then.

The second day at Hawkins ended up going much better than the first. There were a lot of scowls and dirty looks thrown her way by Carol and her friends. Jonathan also had to leave before their second hour class ended, his mum needed him at the office.

“If I can come back after, I’ll still give you guys a ride,” Jonathan whispered as he quickly packed his belongings.

Harry looked at Sirianna before he looked at Jonathan and nodded, “Thank you.”

Nobody had anything nasty to say to Sirianna’s face, Harry was talking, Sirianna wasn’t suspended- she didn’t mind walking back to Benny’s.

Fourth hour, a fun class called ‘home economics’ wound up brightening Sirianna’s day even more. They were starting a unit on baking, everyone had to partner up and pick a ‘dessert recipe’ together from a recipe book to recreate.

“This is going to be easy!” Sirianna gushed to Harry while she let him flip through the recipe book. All of their other classes were so confusing, they were practically in a different language, but baking? Sirianna had learned to bake when she was a small girl!

Harry glanced up from the recipe book and smiled briefly at Sirianna before he went back to intently searching for the recipe they were going to make. Sirianna told him he should choose, though she laughed when he immediately flipped to the ‘T’s’.

“Have you thought of one yet?” Sirianna asked Harry. They had to choose a recipe, write down what they chose and why and any challenges they thought they would face. It was truly the first assignment that Sirianna understood in the school.

“Um…” Harry shook his head and flipped the page, then again and again until he finally pointed at one. “Do - can we do this?” Harry asked.

It was a ‘colossal caramel apple trifle’. There was a photo above the recipe and Sirianna looked at it and decided it looked delicious.

“Looks good.”

Someone leaned on the back of Sirianna’s chair and before Sirianna could scoot away, get away from the body leaning on her, Harry spoke up again.

“Get off my sister.”

It was quiet, stern, only Sirianna could hear the undercurrent of hot anger in Harry’s voice.

Whoever it was complied immediately.

“Sorry.” Steve, the boy with the jokes, walked around the desk that Sirianna and Harry were sharing with a sheepish grin. It wasn’t that Sirianna didn’t appreciate the apology, it was that Steve had been cruel in public and only apologized in private.

It didn’t count.

Harry didn’t respond, seemed to have lost interest all at once, and he carefully opened the spindle to pull the recipe page out for Sirianna.

“We’re doing a pineapple upside down cake,” Steve said. He propped a hip on their desk and jerked a thumb over where he should be sitting. Sirianna glanced in that direction, sure she would see one of the catty mean girls and was surprised when she saw Chrissy waving at her with a smile.

Then she frowned.

Then she stood up and walked directly toward Sirianna.

Sirianna had a wild thought that maybe Chrissy and Carol were friends; maybe Chrissy was about to hit Sirianna for her friend.

“Do you need another scrunchie? I’ve got like a million. Here.” Chrissy liked a scrunchie off her wrist, a cute pink one, and held it out to Sirianna.

“Carol has yours,” Sirianna said uncertainly. “I’m sorry, I - there wasn’t time to get it back.”

“No problem,” Chrissy said, still offering the scrunchie. “I’ve got soo many. Oh! I’ve got a green one that would look totally rad with your eyes!”

“Thank you,” Sirianna said, as genuinely as she could. She took the scrunchie and quickly pulled her hair back up, trying to get the ponytail exactly where Chrissy’s was.

“Rad,” Chrissy said, smiling sweetly once more before she returned to her desk.

Sirianna could feel the prickle on her skin that meant the other students were staring, but they didn’t have anything to say.

Steve did though, Sirianna wished he would take a hint and go away.

“I saw Byers leave earlier,” Steve said. Sirianna tensed, ready for a cruel comment about Jonathan to leave his mouth. “So you guys want a ride home or whatever?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Sirianna gawked at her brother, her brother who she never disagreed with, who never betrayed her.

Harry blinked at her.

That was not ‘trying harder’, a thing Harry didn’t need to do anyway, that - that was - it was - no.

“Jonathan said he would come back and get us,” Sirianna reminded Harry, silently trying to tell him that Steve was a shit hole. Sirianna did not want to ride home with a shit hole, she would rather walk in freezing rain.

“So if he doesn’t show up you can ride with me,” Steve said, entirely too cheerfully. “Cool.”

Not cool.

Sirianna spent the lunch period in the library with Harry, sharing the brown bag lunches that Benny had left in the house for them. It saved them from having to go in the cafeteria, which Sirianna was terribly grateful for.

“You do not need to accept rides from rude boys because some kids don’t like that you’re quiet,” Sirianna told Harry, keeping her voice soft so Harry didn’t feel like she was lecturing him. “He’s cruel, Harry. You didn’t need to do that.”

“Okay.” Harry bit in an orange slice and nodded.

“So you’ll tell Steve in gym that we will not ride with him?” Sirianna checked. If Harry didn’t want to, Sirianna would.

Harry blinked, “No.”

Impossible.

Harry was being impossible.

Sirianna would have been much more irritated by the sudden return of his stubborn personality if… well, if it wasn’t a glimmer of the old Harry.

It was one car ride and hopefully Jonathan would be there and they could forget the whole thing.

Jonathan was not there. Which was fine, really, he was already too kind for giving them rides. But Sirianna spent the last hour of school half-wondering what Harry was doing and half-imagining Carol being fed to Fluffy.

Carol had gone out of her way to trip, shove, and hit Sirianna with a white volleyball the entire gym hour. If it hadn’t been for her certainty that she would be suspended for a second fight in one day, Sirianna would have hit her again.

Chrissy had been a doll, as had a pretty girl named Nancy who had been on Sirianna’s volleyball team. Chrissy whispered for Sirianna to ignore Carol, let it go, don’t give her what she wanted. Nancy had told Sirianna after class when they were dismissed for the day that she had always wanted to hit Carol.

Sirianna was grateful and annoyed and angry and hated that she couldn’t be in the same gym class as Harry.

What if Harry was being treated the same way? What if he had been hit with a ball and tripped a dozen times?

Harry looked fine when he walked out the back doors of the gym with Steve, but Harry always looked fine. Sirianna had seen him bloodied, bruised, and once with his skin ripped open - Harry’s face always looked fine.

“Ready?” Steve beamed at Sirianna and he was… he was cute. Steve was very cute with a boyish grin and hair that was suspiciously in place despite what Sirianna assumed had been an hour of physical activity. It was the fact that Steve had been cruel, only apologized in private, then abruptly decided that he was a good enough person to drive Sirianna and Harry to Benny’s.

It wasn’t consistent. Things that were inconsistent were dangerous. And Steve didn’t look like a dangerous person really, but he did look like someone standing too close to Harry with hidden intentions and Sirianna had to actually grit her teeth together when Harry climbed in the backseat of Steve’s car.

“Why are you doing this?” Sirianna asked Steve before he could slide in the driver’s seat of the car where the only person in the entire world that Sirianna loved was waiting.

Steve seemed taken aback by Sirianna’s harsh tone, she realized he had mostly only heard her talk around Harry, when she was careful to stay soft. He rallied though, offering Sirianna a crooked grin.

“Because I’m a nice guy?” Steve said.

Sirianna raised an eyebrow. “You are a shit hole.”

“I’m a - what?” Maybe Sirianna didn’t say it right because Steve started laughing. He smacked the top of his car as he laughed stupidly at what Sirianna was confident had been an insult.

“I am not a shit hole,” Steve said, his eyes gleaming with the same smile he wore. “Come on, I’ll prove it.”

What was Sirianna meant to do? Harry was already inside the car.

It really was the first betrayal between Sirianna and Harry since she had let herself be sent to Gryffindor even after Harry was sorted Slytherin.

Unlike Jonathan, who kept his radio at a soft level when he drove, Steve seemed content to keep the radio off. It made Sirianna’s already fried nerves sting with the silence echoing in her head. It was almost a relief when Steve started talking, almost.

“Do you like the arcade?” Steve asked. Sirianna couldn’t be sure he was talking to her, but Harry had apparently exhausted his voice when he agreed to the ride in the first place.

“No,” Sirianna said. She didn’t know what an arcade was, but if Steve liked it then she wouldn’t.

“Have you been to the drive-in movie theater in Muncie?”

“No.”

Steve looked in his rearview mirror, as if expecting Harry to answer such a strange question.

Harry, who was full of surprises that day, shook his head without even looking at Steve.

“Do you two ever do anything that isn’t work?” Steve asked. “Like what do you do for fun or whatever?”

What did they do for fun?

… what did they do for fun?! When was the last time that Sirianna remembered herself or Harry having fun?

The day they were taken? The day that Sirianna had played over and over in her mind, yelling at herself a thousand times for everything that had happened?

“You’re so clumsy!” Sirianna rolled on the grass, giggling madly at her brother who had fallen on his bottom from a simple game.

“You do it then,” Harry huffed, still grinning with a streak of black charcoal on his cheek.

“I will.” Sirianna jumped to her feet so that she could have another go at the hopscotch board they drew with charcoal. It had been one little piece, nobody would notice it, and there was an unused alley not so far from home that they couldn’t run home before Uncle Vernon returned from work.

Sirianna, being the better twin at all things hopping, had no problem clearing their simple board and also had no problem bragging about it.

Later, when everything was different and Sirianna had screamed herself hoarse for her brother, she had wished that she hadn’t been so loud, so obnoxious. Maybe she should have been quieter, paid more attention to the area and the loud cracks that had been wizards in white robes.

Sirianna clenched her jaw and stared hard out the window, very much not wanting to be a bawling baby when she saw Benny again.

“Shut up, Steve,” she said as viciously as she could.

Steve shut up and Sirianna got to finish the ride in horrible silence that left too much room in her mind for too many memories.

Steve parked his car in the lot, directly in front of the dark diner. The diner that shouldn’t be dark, it was three fifteen, the diner shouldn’t be dark.

Why was the diner dark?

Before Sirianna could even process it, Harry was out of the car first, his bag forgotten as he moved quicker than Sirianna had seen in years. Sirianna struggled with her door, unease curling up in the pit of her stomach like a snake. The stupid thing was locked, stuck, wouldn’t open.

Sirianna’s hand slipped and Steve tried to open his door, mumbling something Sirianna didn’t care about, but his door was as stuck as Sirianna’s.

“HARRY!” Sirianna slapped the window hard as she screamed at Harry. “HARRY JAMES!”

Harry disappeared inside the building and the voice that never left her, the one that was a whisper at times and a scream other times, was positively bellowing:

GET HIM OUT OF THERE!

“COME ON, OPEN!” Sirianna yelled, slamming her body against the door. The door flew open with her body and Sirianna fell right out, landing on the gravel only to jump to her feet. Just as she began running to the door, unsure why everything felt wrong, Harry walked right back out of it.

Sirianna froze where she was, all of her concern freezing into an endless abyss of fear when she saw Harry’s face.

Harry’s closed off face, the stony face of the boy who didn’t scream, never cried.

“Harry?” Sirianna choked out, her chest on fire with his emotions.

Harry looked down and he shook his head.

Harry shook his head and Sirianna knew that she had been wrong - things weren’t getting better at all.

Chapter Text

Hawkins, Indiana was a small town. A small town. There were barely 1,000 residents of the town, every person in the town pretty well knew their neighbors and their neighbor’s neighbors and probably every relative that branched off those family trees.

There weren’t a lot of secrets in Hawkins.

Jim Hopper grew up in Hawkins, left for some time, then returned to take over as the town sheriff and he personally knew two kids who weren’t the children of the men they called ‘dad’. Jim knew which families were struggling hard financially, he knew of the ones that were struggling with addictions.

In a small town, there weren’t a lot of secrets or a lot of excitement.

Jim had started his shift that morning expecting that the old bat on Pine Street calling about her missing cats would be the biggest call he received. For three years, the worst case he had land on his desk were the teenagers that would get a wild hair once in a while and tear up some roads while they drove drunk and pretended to be invincible.

Until that day.

Jim had been enjoying some fucking silence and coffee to ease the hangover pounding in his temples when the station secretary knocked on his door.

“Chief.” Flo, the station secretary, poked her head in Jim’s office with pursed lips. Flo didn’t look real impressed, but she always looked bitchy around Jim. “There’s a woman here, claims her son is missing.”

“Claims or is?” Jim asked, more interested in his coffee. If the woman claimed her kid was missing, it was a theory. Theories could be ignored until supper time when the kid would roll up and apologize for running away to fuck his girlfriend - or maybe he already had and she was knocked up. The point was - kids weren’t exactly the fucking brightest and a claim wasn’t a fact.

If the kid was missing… then Jim might still have time to finish his coffee and smoke before he had to do anything about it.

“Claims,” Flo said. She lowered her voice and looked at Jim through glasses that always looked ready to fall. “She’s demanding to see you.”

“Great.” Jim drained the rest of his mug and slammed it on his desk, internally wincing at the sharp throb that bonehead move brought him. “Send her to Powell,” he said.

“She wants to speak with you,” Flo repeated.

Everyone wanted to speak with the Police Chief when they made a report, as if Jim’s opinion was going to be any different than any other cop in the station. Hell, Powell would probably at least cruise around time to look for the kid.

“Flo…” Jim pulled a cigarette out and paused to light it before he glared at Flo. He wasn’t in the mood to be around a hysterical mother whose kid probably took off twice a week. “Do we give every damn person that walks in this place exactly what they want?”

“It’s Joyce Byers.”

Jim took a long draw off the cigarette and let the nicotine lie to him and tell him it was going to be a normal day.

“Alright, send her in.”

Joyce Byers took no time at all to rush in Jim’s office, looking fucking insane. Joyce was a good looking woman, always had been, but her hair looked like a tangled mess, her Melvard’s uniform was ripped and stained with dirty.

Hell, there was a fucking leaf in her hair.

“Hop, my son - he’s missing,” Joyce said in a rush, bypassing the niceties. “Please, you’ve got to find him.”

“Alright, calm down,” Jim said, showing Joyce how good it felt to be calm by showing it. He flicked his cigarette in the ashtray and replaced it in his mouth. “Which boy is it?”

Joyce had two of them, if Jim remembered right. An older boy, high schooler. Then another one, ten maybe.

“It’s Will, my youngest.” Joyce started pacing, real anxious and on edge. Jim would say drugs if he didn’t remember her always full of too much energy even back in school.

“Will’s not like this, he wouldn’t just disappear,” Joyce said, starting off with the cliché. “He never came home last night, he didn’t go to school this morning. This isn’t like him. I think - I think he’s hurt. God.” Joyce’s breath hitched and Jim was not prepared to deal with a meltdown. “What if he’s hurt?”

“How old is he?” Jim asked.

“He’s only twelve.”

Jim acknowledged the old pang of pain and slid the ashtray across his desk when Joyce shakily lit up.

“You guys have a fight last night?” Jim asked her. “He get grounded recently?”

“What?” Joyce’s eyes flashed through the smoke that spilled from her mouth. “No, Jim, we didn’t have a fucking fight. He is missing.”

“Joyce, the odds are that he got upset about something, maybe a fight with a friend, and he took off for a bit,” Jim told her bluntly. “If you go home, I bet he’ll be back as soon as he gets hungry.”

“Damn it, no!” Joyce slapped her hand on the desk so she could glare at him with her whole might. Real scary too, all five foot of her.

“Will is not like that,” she insisted. “He is a good boy, Jim. He’s sensitive, caring. He would never do this.”

That’s what they all said.

“How about Lonnie then?” Jim asked, thinking of Joyce’s shitbag ex-husband. “Any chance Will went to see his dad and forgot to mention it?”

“His dad?” Joyce laughed, a crazed sound. “Will wouldn’t go see Lonnie if the whole world was on fire and Muncie was the only place with water. Lonnie - he - he’s never understood Will. He used to call him queer, a fag, shit like that.”

“Is he?” Jim asked, might explain the kid’s disappearance if so.

“Is my twelve year old gay? No! God, what is wrong with you?!”

Headache, nausea; pretty standard hangover.

“Alright, give me the timeline,” Jim said. Might be easier to get the standard information, send Joyce home, check at night that the kid made it back alright. It wouldn’t hurt to scare him some, make sure Jim didn’t have a hysterical Joyce in his office again.

“I worked overnight last night, inventory night,” Joyce started - explained why she looked strung out, probably hadn’t slept yet. “Jonathan had to work the dinner shift at Benny’s, Will went to his friend’s house, Mike Wheeler.”

Jim wrote down that name.

“Jonathan said when he got home that he assumed Will decided to stay with Mike, he does that sometimes, they’re best friends. I got home this morning and Will wasn’t there. I called Karen Wheeler, she said Will didn’t stay the night.”

So the kid went to his friend’s house, then left. It made ‘fight with a friend’ sound real likely. Unless the older brother was lying…

“Karen say what time Will left?” Jim asked.

“Seven, the boys all left at seven.”

Jim wrote that down too.

“Who all was there? The other boys?” he asked.

Joyce sighed and finished off her cigarette.

“Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson,” she said. “I called their houses today too, Will had never been there. The school said he didn’t show up today either.”

“Okay,” Jim said. He wrote down the names, got Joyce’s home number and added her address too. “Why don’t you go home, try and calm down, stay by the phone. I’ll drive around, check the places kids like to hang out, alright?”

If nothing else, Jim could take a nap in a parking lot somewhere.

Joyce agreed to wait at home and told Jim that she had yanked her older boy from school to send him around town as well. It was all a little fucking dramatic, but Jim didn’t mind leaving the station when the Cat Lady on Pine did end up calling about her cats and Powell had to deal with that.

Jim had a small town to cruise and a nap calling his name.

It took no time for Jim to drive through town, keeping his eyes peeled for an abandoned bike anywhere. He drove past the soda shop, circled the buildings downtown, checked the park.

Jim stopped to find out why there was a teenager in a blue Camaro loitering at the quarry instead of attending school. The kid, the new Hargrove kid with the speeding problem, said he was suspended. Jim clocked the bruised eye and split lip, figured the kid would be his problem as soon as the high school got sick of him fighting classmates, and sent his ass home.

Then Jim radioed to the station, told Flo to page him when Joyce called to say the kid was home, and took a nap.

Not a bad morning at all really.

“Chief? Chief!”

Jim groaned when he was roused from his sleep by tones dropping on his pager in between Powell’s voice. He glared blearily at the old clock on his dash and figured the crick in his neck had something to do with the four hours he slept in the driver’s seat of his car.

Tones dropped again and Jim reached for the radio in his passenger seat and turned that shit way down.

“Someone better be fucking dead,” Jim growled in the radio. Tones were for emergencies, not because Powell didn’t like how handsy Cat Lady got with the officers.

“Think they are.” Powell’s voice was shaky on the radio, not like the man at all. “It’s Benny Hammond, Chief. Call said he’s dead in his diner.”

Yup, that would be a fucking emergency.

Jim ordered Powell to call Callahan in, all hands on deck, and then flipped his lights on to tear across town. Jim lit up on his way, hoping like hell that the Halloween pranks were starting a day early.

It wasn’t fucking funny, Jim would be willing to put in the hours for a false reporting charge when he caught the little bastard that called it in. It had to be a prank, had to be a sick joke.

Benny Hammond wasn’t dead, couldn’t be. Jim saw him just the day before, down at the station. Benny looked healthier than he ever had, happier too. Healthy and happy men did not drop dead in the diner’s they ran for fifteen years.

Jim was first on scene, managing to pull in just before Hawkins EMS. There was a maroon BMW in the lot - belonged to one of the high school kids, Jim couldn’t remember which as he jumped from his car, slamming the door shut, and jogged to the diner entrance with his hand on his service weapon.

The wailing - the specific wailing that only the heartbroken and devastated could make - hit Jim’s ears when he swung the door open.

The diner looked the same as it had since Jim was a busboy there back in his high school days. The only change that had been made was the body of Benny Hammond slumped over on a table and the three kids that were beside him.

One of the kids, the Harrington kid who Jim absently remembered owned the BMW, was wide-eyed and started rambling as soon as he saw Jim.

“He’s dead, dead dead. He’s dead, just… dead.”

The kid kept up his rambling, probably his first time around a dead body, as Jim clocked the other two kids. Jim had never met ‘em, but Benny had talked about them like they made the fucking world rotate.

“Hop?” Benny Hammond knocked on Jim’s office door and let himself in. Jim didn’t mind too much, it wasn’t like he was doing a damn thing.

“Benny, how’s it going?” Jim didn’t stand up, didn’t have to offer Benny a seat. Benny knew he was as welcome as anyone and he sat himself right down before the bastard took Jim’s lighter to get a cigarette.

“Good.” Benny blew his smoke toward the cracked window and then gave Jim the same damn grin he’d had his whole life. “Gotta favor to ask you…”

“Alright then.” Jim kicked his feet up on the desk and figured he’d probably do whatever Benny needed. Benny was a good man, never had been a troublemaker.

“Let’s hear it,” Jim told him.

“God damn it.” Jim walked around the table and didn’t need to check for a pulse, didn’t need EMS for anything more than a body removal.

Benny’s upper body was slumped over the table, an old handgun beneath his limp hand, and the blood pouring from the single head wound had already dried.

Just like the Harrington kid was rambling - Benny was dead.

Dead dead.

Jim held up a hand toward the EMTs, stopping them in their tracks. There was nothing to do about Benny, but there was a hysterical teenage girl who could use some help.

“Sirianna?” Jim ignored the body of his oldest friend to date and knelt down beside the girl whose waiting was cutting him to the core. “That’s your name, right? Sirianna?”

Jim started to reach for her, to put his hand on her back, and he would swear until day he died that he must have had a mini-stroke with the quick flash of heat that traveled from his fingertips clear to his elbow. Jim shook his arm and as quickly as the flare of pain started, it disappeared.

“Don’t touch her.”

Jim hadn’t noticed much about the boy, he’d been mostly hidden by the shadow of his sister’s raw sobs, Harrington’s stammered nerves, and the body of Benny. Jim noticed him then, noticed that the waif of a fifteen year old who he locked eyes with looked like he was ready to pull Jim’s fingers off for daring.

“Benny.” Jim groaned and rubbed his forehead, pushed back on the ache that Benny’s whole tale gave him. “How do you know they’re not scammers or drifters? These kids might roll in a new town every month, same sad story.”

They’d milk Benny for all he was worthy, taking advantage of him, then move on to the next place.

“They didn’t give me a story,” Benny said - stubborn and an ass. “They tried to rent a damn bed, Jim. I’m telling you, their parents did a real number on ‘em.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just take in a couple of runaways all hunky dory,” Jim said, trying to use ration on him. “Their parents are going to come looking for them eventually.”

Benny’s jaw locked and he crossed his arms over his chest, apparently damn ready to fight for the kids if it came to it.

“Good,” he said, snarling. “I hope they do knock on my door.”

Judging from the heat in the boy’s eyes - Jim thought he might do it too.

“You’re Harry, right?” Jim asked. The boy didn’t seem to have any sort of a good first impression of Jim, but between the girl that had to stop crying sometime and Harrington - at least he was calm.

“Can you get your sister out of here?” Jim asked when it was clear the boy wasn’t going to say a word to Jim. “I need all three of you out of here. Go wait outside.”

Powell, fucking finally, walked in and blanched at the sight of Benny’s body before he caught Jim’s eye.

“I’ll take them out, Chief,” he said. “Come on, boys. Let’s get outside.”

Jim pushed himself off the ground and thought maybe he was going to have to ask the EMT’s to sedate the girl. He’d be a liar if he said that the way she was curled up, her pale hand clutching Benny’s ankle, sobbing her fucking heart out wasn’t - well, it was damn sad, that’s what it was.

“Siri.”

Jim got a decent look at the boy when he stepped up to touch the girl’s shoulder: pale as fuck, like he hadn’t seen the sun in a while. He had big eyes, too big - fit the story Benny gave Jim, the one that had more credibility when Jim saw the boy’s wrists and thought maybe they’d snap with a hard enough wind.

Harry bent down by his sister and ducked his head by hers, whispered something Jim couldn’t hear. Jim was ready to say screw it and ask someone to sedate her, for her comfort as much as Jim’s, when the sobbing hitched and started to slow.

“Come meet ‘em sometime,” Benny said. “Maybe in a week or so, I want ‘em to settle in. You’ll like them, Jim. Sirianna - she, well,” Benny chuckled and Jim stared at him through dead eyes, recognizing the look of a father enamored in any state. “You’d love her, she’s a little spitfire. Got a heart of gold though, you should see her taking care of her brother.”

“That’s Harry, right?” Jim asked. He wouldn’t write down their names in front of Benny, but he’d remember them.

A report would roll in eventually about two runaway kids, Hawkins wasn’t exempt from the national alerts, and Jim would… well, he’d deal with that then.

“Yeah.” Benny grimaced, just for a second. “He doesn’t talk to me much, but he’s a good one too. Loves his sister, you can just tell.”

Sirianna stood up with her brother’s hand on her back and Jim had to see her grief in full force. Jim had thought, well… two strange kids show up and then the guy who took them in ends up dead, Jim had theories… but those theories didn’t fit that well of sorrow.

“Go on.” Jim could be patient, calm. That girl might have lost the first person in a long time who had loved her. That wasn’t a small thing and Jim wasn’t a monster.

Sirianna had the same green eyes as her brother, though Jim noticed the stark contrast in the tears and heartbreak - she was drowning, he was dry. It wasn’t until she started walking away, stumbling some with shaking knees but a hand on her back, that Jim could focus on the crime scene.

Because it absolutely was a fucking crime scene.

Benny had been happy, and Jim doubted that whoever put that pistol under his hand knew it. Jim ducked down to look at the gun, the barrel… it was a nice one, newer model.

Benny only owned a shotgun as far as Jim knew. He used it to hunt, once for a break-in that wound up being an old drunk who couldn’t comprehend the diner was closed, and to keep coyotes off his property.

“Chief?” Callahan walked over, bringing the EMTs with him. “Uh… don’t see this everyday,” he said. “You - you see a lot of this in the city?”

Jim pulled a notepad from his breast pocket and carefully jotted down the make of the gun while he absently answered Callahan.

“Dead bodies of my friends? Not so much,” Jim murmured. He had to shove away who Benny was so he could look at his face, inspect the single headshot there.

It was dead center. That wasn’t an impossible shot for someone to make themself, but unlikely. Suicides were emotional, committed by mentally unwell folks. They tended to have shaky hands, shoulders that heaved with cries.

They weren’t men who had taken in two kids and planned on making them a part of his family.

“I just need you to print something up,” Benny pleaded. “I told Higgins that they’re Michael’s kids, his ex-wife is real sick and will be gone before anyone gets any ideas about checking in with her.”

And Michael was conveniently dead, Jim knew that much. It was a good story… it wouldn’t take much for Jim to type up a form for Benny, some forged form of custody so he could keep the school system off his ass if they asked for it.

“You’re asking me to break the law so you can let some runaways stay with you?” Jim asked carefully, making sure Benny knew clear as day what he wanted.

“Jim… I’m asking you to break the law so I can keep these kids.” Benny looked Jim right in the eye, knew exactly what he was asking, what he wanted. “They need a family, Jim, a good one. And, well, hell, I don’t think I’d be real keen on giving ‘em up now.”

Before Benny left the station, Jim had filled out an official letter of custody for him. As far as anyone needed to be concerned, Sirianna and Harry Hammond were legally Benny’s problems.

And Benny had been over the moon - Jim always did suspect that he would have made one hell of a dad. His ex-wives didn’t agree, but if Benny was sure about the story he had, it seemed like the world had agreed.

“Suicide, right?” Callahan asked, stupidly staying six feet away from the body while he looked everywhere but. “It’s a damn shame, I heard from Beckett that those kids were pretty taken with him.”

“It sure looks like a suicide,” Jim said carefully. It did look like a suicide and if Jim weren’t in Hawkins, Indiana - if it had happened in one of the cities - he would say it also looked like a real well-planned murder.

Almost perfect. Except Jim knew that Benny had been planning for the future, planning on taking care of the kids. And there were more things, small, that didn’t add up. The gun that Jim didn’t recognize, the perfectly centered head shot. Even the location was suspicious - why would Benny sit down at a table in the middle of the diner to off himself?

“Go check the register, call Beckett and have him tell you about anything of value in here,” Jim ordered Callahan. He looked at Benny one more time, one long look where he didn’t push away who Benny was or the thousands of memories he had of him.

Benny had been Jim’s best friend growing up. They rode bikes together, went fishing together. They got older, flirted with girls together, got shot down together. Jim and Benny had been inseparable until Jim enlisted and Benny got disqualified for an underlying heart condition the Military discovered.

Benny had been at Jim’s wedding, been there at the darkest time of Jim’s life. When Jim moved back to Hawkins, back in the same crummy house he had been raised in, Benny showed up with a broom, mop, and bourbon.

“Damn it.” Jim touched Benny’s shoulder lightly before he left Callahan to collaborate with the diner chef and the EMTs to start removing the body.

Jim was going to talk to the kids, try and get some idea of what the fuck had happened there. And he wasn’t going to start with the girl who acted like her world had come to a screeching halt, he was going to start with the boy who hadn’t shed a single tear.

The kids didn’t go far, Powell had them behind the ambulance with the girl sitting on the tailgate while her brother hovered beside her like a ninety pound guard-dog. Jim took his time walking to them, took his time to really study them while he lit a cigarette.

Sirianna was curled up, her chin on her knees and her eyes silently crying. She was devastated, Jim didn’t think any kid could fake that kind of pain. There wasn’t any blood on her clothes, though Jim wondered where Benny had pulled the sweatsuits and canvas coats from.

Harry didn’t have his hand on Sirianna anymore, but it hovered there, ready to grab her. He was on edge, Jim could see it. That boy did not want to be at the diner and it would be a perfectly normal reaction to have if he looked like he cared at all that Benny was dead. Harry was wearing Benny’s coat (blood free, as far as Jim could tell) and the only sadness he had in his eyes seemed to just be for his sister.

And Harrington… well, Jim wasn’t sure what Harrington was doing there. He didn’t look great though and the spot on his shirt told Jim whose puddle of puke had been just outside the diner door.

Jim thought it had been Callahan’s really.

“Harrington, right?” Jim started with him, figuring that he might have given the twins a ride home, not suspecting what was inside the diner.

“Yes, sir?” Harrington asked, perfectly politely if too quickly, a side effect of seeing his first dead body probably.

“I want you to go with Officer Powell, give him a statement, then he’s going to call your parents and have them come pick you up,” Jim said firmly.

“I… they’re not home,” Harrington said - which was just fucking great. The kid was going to be shaking, sick, probably have nightmares.

“Right.” Nothing Jim could do about that. “Powell can drive you home, we’ll get your car to you by morning.”

“Oh - okay.” Harrington looked at Harry, a stealthy glance, then down at Sirianna. “I’ll - uh… does someone have paper? And a pen?” he asked.

Jim did and didn’t mind to give him a sheet, watched while Harrington quickly jotted down what looked like his address and number to pass to Harry.

“If you need anything,” Harrington said. Kid seemed to be a good enough one, shame that he had to see Benny like that.

Powell took Harrington over by his car and Jim smoked his cigarette while deciding how to divide the twins up for interrogations, wondered if it would even be worth it.

They looked close, might have only ever had each other. There were plenty of physical cues that the story Benny had, one about two kids who ran away from abusive parents with only $60 and each other, was the truth. But Jim knew the kind of scars that abuse could leave; kids who got smacked around by bastards who should have been sterilized didn’t always grow up wanting to save the world - sometimes they were the ones who tried to burn it down.

“You feel up to answering a few questions?” Jim asked the girl, assuming that her story would be close to her truth. The girl would give Jim her story, her brother would parrot it. Jim was a decent cop, liked to think he could read people well enough. If the boy slipped up… Jim would catch it.

“Yes.” Sirianna’s voice was hoarse, Jim wished he had some water or something to offer her. She looked at Jim and Jim could see some of the strength Benny described in the lift of her chin, the set of her jaw.

“Someone killed him,” Sirianna said right off the bat. “Benny wouldn’t - he wouldn’t have done it himself. He wouldn’t.”

Yeah, Jim agreed.

“Alright, let’s hear it then. Can you think of anyone who had a reason to do this to him?” Jim asked. “Any enemies?”

Any pissed off relatives or gang members or friends of the twins?

“I don’t think so.” Sirianna’s lower lip wobbled and Jim was grateful that she kept ahold of herself. “He’s nice, he - people like him. Benny’s nice.”

“Did you move anything when you entered the diner?” Jim asked.

“No.” Sirianna shook her head and swallowed loudly. “I - we just saw Benny. We didn’t touch anything.”

“And you two were at school all day?” Jim asked. It would be easy enough to check, just a way to test their honesty.

“Yes,” Sirianna said. Her eyebrows twitched then, just before she let out a pained moan. “They couldn’t get ahold of him,” she whispered. “The school.” Sirianna looked up at Jim with just the most pitiful expression. “Principal Higgins tried to call him, Benny never answered. What if - what if…?”

“What time was that?” Jim asked, following the theory. He wrote down the time when she said it, between eight and nine. “Any idea what Higgins wanted?” It probably wouldn’t matter, plenty of reasons for a principal to call the guardian of two students, but Jim wasn’t leaving any stone unchecked.

“I got in a fight.”

Jim lifted his eyes from his notepad to stare at the girl deadpan.

“You got in a fight?” he asked. “You mind telling me what about?”

Again, probably not important. The kids were wearing clothes that Jim wouldn’t doubt had been taken from Benny’s own closet and from the customers who had met them - there were plenty of ways Jim could see Sirianna being spurred to fight on her second day of school.

“I - someone was being rude and I lost my temper,” Sirianna said. She seemed credible enough, Jim had a hard time looking at her with her pink scrunchie and sad eyes and thinking ‘murderer’.

The brother though…

“How about you?” Jim asked him. “Were you at school all day? Never left to run home for a book?”

Or to help kill Benny.

Harry shook his head, wouldn’t even look at Jim.

“He didn’t,” Sirianna said. “We were both there. I wouldn’t - we didn’t —” she broke on a whimper and Jim figured that was all the questions he’d aim her way.

“Harry? You notice anything off when you guys entered the diner?” Outside of the obvious, that was.

Again, the kid shook his head.

“This is an official fucking report,” Jim told him, a bite of impatience. “I need some verbal answers here, kid. There’s a dead body in that diner and I need to know how it happened.”

“Harry didn’t do it!” Sirianna leapt off the tailgate of the ambulance, definitely the protective type. She grabbed for her brother’s hand and Jim didn’t miss the way that Harry hesitated just for a second before he curled his fingers around hers.

“Benny is our friend,” Sirianna said hotly. “Benny - Benny is kind and he- he helps us. He’s our friend!”

Was. Helped.

The girl didn’t kill Benny, her brain wasn’t even accepting that he was gone.

“I’m going to level with you.” Jim gave them a severe look and grit his teeth as Harry continued to look only at the side of his sister’s face.

“Two runaways show up here, ask for a place to stay. The guy who takes them in ends up dead two weeks later. You say you were both at school, and I’ll check, but I need you to be honest. If you cared about Benny even a fucking tenth of what he did you, I need to know right now if there’s any chance that someone related to you two did this.”

Because Jim could see the kids, he wasn’t blind. Benny was right, someone did a number on them. There weren’t any injuries, but they weren’t the bodies of children who were well-cared for and loved. That meant that someone in their lives was dangerous, violent.

They knew it too. Sirianna turned so she could see her brother. It was like they had a whole conversation with just their eyes - just the way that she seemed to be the one who took care of him, but he was going to be the one to decide if Jim was going to get the truth the easy way or the hard way.

“Yes.” Harry’s voice had softened, probably had something to do with the way that his sister looked like a broken heart personified in front of him. He might have been answering Jim’s question, but Jim didn’t think that was it.

He was desperate enough to pretend like Harry had confirmed a theory he would have investigated first anyway.

“Okay.” Jim sighed and really hoped that the twins weren’t personally involved, that Benny wasn’t killed because of the worst kind of betrayal.

“That’s a start,” he said. There was a wave from the door, one of the EMTs. They were probably ready to move the body and didn’t want the kids to see it.

Jim didn’t want to see it himself if he were honest.

“Why don’t the three of us go down to the station, talk some more?” Jim suggested. “I’m going to have some questions but if you’re honest then I’ll call social services and have them find you a place to sleep while this all gets sorted out.”

“Social services?” Somehow Sirianna’s face paled more when she whipped her attention back to Jim in a panic. “You can’t call them. They’ll - we - please, just let us go. We’ll answer all your questions and then we’ll leave, we won’t be a burden to anyone again.”

Sirianna was spooked, spooked real bad. Jim could guess why - any call to social services had the potential to send an alert to whichever county was missing two teens. Jim didn’t have a clue what happened to twins, except it must have been bad and the girl before him was terrified of being made to return to it.

Even Harry had finally shown some emotion, if his face shutting down completely was an emotion.

They weren’t the same, not at all. Sirianna and Harry were pale, had black hair, green eyes. They were older, somehow seemed weary of the world already. There weren’t a lot of similarities between them and Jim’s daughter, but damn if he wasn’t thinking about her hard in that moment.

“Fine,” Jim agreed, shoving his own foot in his mouth before he could stop himself. “You two answer my questions completely and honestly and I won’t have to call social services. Is that a deal?”

It was the only one they’d get and damn if Jim knew where they’d go once he was done questioning them.

“Will - if you can find who did this… you will?” Sirianna asked.

It wasn’t a question of if Jim could find them, he thought it was a question of if he was given enough information to at least try.

“Kid, when I do find who did this, they’re going to fucking fry,” Jim said. He shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have shared his own view that it was more likely to be a murder than suicide. The girl was devastated, she couldn’t even comprehend that Benny was gone.

She must have liked what Jim said though because she didn’t even look at her brother before she nodded shortly at Jim.

“Then we have a deal,” she said.

It seemed to go unspoken that she was accepting on behalf of them both.

Chapter Text

Harry had the best day.

It started at breakfast, where all of his favorite foods were sent up to the Slytherin table. There weren’t usually desserts at breakfast, Harry didn’t question it.

“Harry, guess what?” Theo was beaming at him, always happy to see Harry.

“What?” Harry asked, a little distracted with loading his plate with as much treacle tart as he could before someone realized they made a mistake.

“Draco’s sick!” Theo said happily. “And so is Professor Snape! They both have Dragon Pox and have to stay in the Hospital Wing for a month!”

“No way!” Harry cried, delighted. First it was treacle tart for breakfast then Dragon Pox took away the worst two parts of Hogwarts? It was like Christmas all over again!

“Potter!” Marcus Flint, the quidditch captain for Slytherin, barked Harry’s name down the table. Harry leaned forward to see him and saw that Flint was doing a strange thing… he was smiling.

“Since potion classes are canceled for the month, we’re making today a practice day,” Flint said. “Gryffindor said they’d practice with us so you and Girl Potter can get some real practice in.”

“Theo…” Harry’s eyes glazed over and he put the back of his hand on his forehead. “You’re going to have to catch me, because I’m going to faint.”

It wound up being the best day.

Harry and Sirianna were able to fly for hours on the pitch. Sirianna took seeking very seriously, which meant she won most of their seeker battles. Harry just had a good time flying and knew in the back of his mind that when a real match rolled around, he’d know how to beat Sirianna because she was a show-off and wanted to show him every trick she had during their practice.

The Slytherin and Gryffindor teams ate lunch on the sunny field, both teams too worn out from practice to do any sort of fighting. Ron sat with Sirianna, Theo joined Harry, and it was just like a huge picnic.

It was like that, all day. There was something magic in the air that made everything good that could happen - did happen.

Harry received an O on his transfiguration essay, earning fifty points for his perfect score. There was no Draco Malfoy which meant that all the Slytherin first years were able to sit around the common room and trade books around. There was no Professor Snape which - didn’t really change anything, it was just a happy side note.

By the time Harry went to bed, his face actually ached from smiling so much.

“Today was perfect,” Harry mumbled to Theo, sleepy but still happy.

Theo’s bed was right beside Harry’s, they had scooted them as close as they could get on their second night - it made it easier to read at night without bothering the other boys. Theo lifted his head up so that he could grin at Harry, just as happy with the day as Harry was.

“Subject zero-seven waking,” Theo said, his voice sharp and authoritative.

Harry’s stomach dropped, like he was falling off his broom slowly at first then all at once. Just before he thought he should hit the ground —

“Test it.”

There was a wand on Harry’s forehead and a curse that flowed through it, sending electric fire through Harry’s brain, burning all the edges. Harry went rigid in the chair, his fingers scrambled beneath their straps to find something to clutch.

It wasn’t real, none of it. Maybe it never had been.

Sirianna was there when Harry was taken back to the cage they called a room. Harry must have done well, they were put in the same room as a reward sometimes.

And Sirianna was real, she was real and she was all that Harry had ever needed really.

When things were too much - too loud, too many eyes, too much - Harry could crawl back in those happy memories. Harry could remember the perfect day at Hogwarts, the one that could have happened if Harry had been there. Harry could crawl in the dark and cozy corner of his mind where he laid with his head on Sirianna’s lap, her fingers stroking his hair, and the two of them took turns creating a story.

That was where Harry crawled when he was arrested. Not arrested, not arrested, but taken to a police station and asked too many questions.

It wasn’t fair - it wasn’t fair that Siri had cared about Benny. It wasn’t fair that one of the police men tried to stick him in a room and only changed his mind after Harry blew the lightbulbs out. It wasn’t fair that They killed Benny and Harry couldn’t say so.

Siri stopped crying when they sat together in an office that smelled warm, like smoke. The police officer, the one who looked at Harry like he was a puzzle without enough pieces, sat on one side of the desk and Harry and Sirianna sat on the other side.

Someone offered them drinks, food, a blanket to fix the way Siri was shaking. Harry wasn’t going to eat a thing, nothing they offered him. If they would stop bothering Siri then Harry could pull away, hide out until he could go… go…

Where? Where was Harry meant to go? Where would Siri go?

Siri didn’t want to go to Hogwarts, Harry didn’t want to go anywhere without her. They couldn’t go to Benny's house, not with Them knowing who Benny was and where he had lived.

There was a note in Harry’s pocket with an address on it, if he needed anything. If Siri needed a place to sleep before they…

What? Before they went where and did what?

Harry gazed ahead unseeingly while he tried to make himself figure anything out. Would they have to run? Run and never stop? Should - would Siri be safer if Harry left? Harry was the finished experiment; Siri had always been the one who was miserable because of Harry.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked and it was nearly dark outside, the office they were in was lit by soft lamps that gave a hazy and unreal feeling to the room. Siri was staring at Harry and he needed to try, needed to do better.

Do better.

“I think whoever killed Benny might - might be one of the men from Albany,” Siri said slowly, staring hard at Harry like she was forcing him to understand her. Harry understood, he agreed. It was one of Them who had killed Benny, Harry would have said that if anyone asked him.

“Right,” Harry agreed. He glanced from Siri to the man watching them with dark eyes - dark eyes that seemed too knowing, like he could see right inside Harry’s mind.

Maybe he could. Maybe he’d seen the shadows and the darkness and knew what Harry had seen and done.

“What can you tell me about the men?” he asked - looking directly at Harry. “Any details could help here, kid.”

They wore white coats, They were powerful, and They were going to kill Harry and Sirianna both when They found them.

Harry felt like his tongue was swelling up, choking him. Who would believe him? Who would believe Harry if he said They were insane, brilliant, too powerful to be stopped? Siri would, that was it.

Harry shook his head - too much. It - Harry didn’t want to talk about Them. They killed Benny and They couldn’t be stopped. Benny couldn’t come back to life, it was over.

“Look.” The man leaned his elbows on his desk, leaning toward Harry and Siri. “Your sister here has a pretty wild story. Kidnapping, torture, government experiments on children? That’s a hard sell. Are you following?”

How was the truth a ‘hard sell’? They weren’t selling their story, nobody needed to purchase it.

Harry nodded uncertainly.

“Anything you can tell me, any shred of evidence to support this, would be a help,” the man said. “You corroborate any part of this story and I’ll make sure these people don’t bother you ever again.”

That was a hard sell. They couldn’t be stopped, definitely not by a muggle with only a gun. And he was only a muggle, Harry was as certain of that as he was that it had been a witch or wizard who killed Benny.

It was still the first time anyone said they would try - try to keep Siri safe.

“Har.” Siri took Harry’s hand and squeezed it while Harry was still stuck staring at the man. Her voice sounded so sad, almost as sad as her eyes were. Siri cared about Benny so much, Harry didn’t want him to die.

“Show him the proof,” Siri whispered.

Show him? Show him - what? Harry didn’t even know what Siri had said to him, he - he had been hiding when she talked herself to exhaustion.

Proof? The man would try to protect Siri if Harry proved they weren’t liars?

“Okay.” Harry looked at the cigarette in the man’s fingers, the one that had soft grey smoke lazily flying above it.

It took nothing at all for Harry to blink and make the cigarette disappear - though apparently that wasn’t what Siri had wanted.

“Bubby…” Siri’s voice was tight when the man jumped in his seat and held his hand up to stare at the blank space where the cigarette had once been.

“I meant that you should show him your arm.”

Oh.

Harry should have done that. The little tattoo right above the crease of his elbow - zero-seven, subject zero-seven - might have been enough proof too.

“Okay…” The man took a deep breath and settled right back down in his chair. He pulled a cup toward him, coffee Harry thought, and then added a splash of something clear he got from his desk.

After he seemed to drink the entire mug at once, he refocused on Siri.

“Now, why don’t you restart your story and don’t leave anything out, huh?”

Siri shifted and Harry was relieved she still had his hand because it was going to be a long night when she cleared her throat nervously.

“I guess it started on Halloween then, fourteen years ago…”

Harry didn’t need to listen to Siri… he lived through it all once, there was no reason to listen to the worst story in the world again.

Siri’s voice washed over Harry, only parts of it filtered through though —

“… called him the Boy-Who-Lived…”

“They wore white coats, the ones who took us had robes on…”

“… everything shut down, all at once, and we just ran.”

“… Benny was kind, I - I didn’t want to lie to him…”

When Siri couldn’t talk anymore, when there was nothing left to say, Harry blinked and then squinted in the sunrise that blinded him in the windows.

The man scrubbed his face with both hands for what felt like an eternity.

“Magic,” he mumbled. “Fucking - fucking magic…”

It seemed like Siri had broken him. The man for all his muscle and his swear to protect Siri… he was broken by the idea of magic. If anything was funny at all, Harry would have smiled.

“What the fuck do I do…?” The man dropped his hands and blinked heavily at Harry and Siri. “There’s nobody, not a soul in the world, that can help you kids?”

Harry’s eyebrows twitched in a sense of anger that was dulled, fuzzy, muted under the weight of everything else. He said - he said that if they sold their story that he - he said he would protect her!

“You lied,” Harry said, glaring at the man and hating him. He made Siri tell him all those things so he could pass her along? He lied and Harry wasn’t surprised, but he was angry.

“Me? What did I lie about?” he asked Harry.

Harry needed to shut up, he did. But Benny was dead and Siri’s pain was bleeding through Harry’s chest and it made everything raw and too much.

“You said that you’d - you’d keep Them from bothering us!” Harry yelled. Something exploded, something that sounded like the glass fracturing in Harry’s head. “YOU SAID YOU WOULD KEEP HER SAFE!”

Because Harry couldn’t. It was all Harry wanted - more than Hogwarts, more than the best memory that had never been true - more than anything, Harry wanted Siri to be safe. And Harry could try… he could try until his lungs froze and his heart stopped, but…

Harry was tired, useless, needed to do better.

And the man said that he would help.

The man and Harry stared at one another, they stared while Siri whispered assurances to Harry - the same way she said she was fine and never was.

“Yeah, okay.” He pulled another cigarette from the nearly empty box to slip between his lips. He gestured at his desk, where Harry saw a smoldering spot with shattered bits of metal littering it.

“You mind?”

It took Harry a moment to understand what he wanted, but it was simple to create a small flame, just enough to light the end of the cigarette.

“You two don’t mind sharing a room, do you? I’ve only got the one extra,” he said once he settled back in his seat and his gaze turned less assessing, less sharp. It softened him and Harry let his own jaw unclench.

Did they mind sharing a room? Harry wouldn’t mind sharing a room with Siri for the rest of his life. It was Siri who needed space, needed more, needed things to be better.

“We don’t,” Siri said, squeezing Harry’s hand tight.

Siri was too tired, too sick with misery, for Harry to do anything except nod. It was just…

They didn’t used to lie, not to each other.

The man - his name was ‘Hop’, someone called him that as they left, “Hop, Joyce Byers called, said Will never returned home.” - directed Harry and Sirianna back through the station. They weren’t being arrested, locked up, they were being taken to his house.

Harry didn’t mind that, muggles didn’t scare him as much as they once had. It was the best place for Siri to be if Hop thought that there was any chance he could keep Siri safe.

And Siri liked Hawkins. Siri liked going to school and riding in cars, she liked to talk to other people their age and she wanted to wear makeup and pretty clothes. Siri liked the other students, she wanted them to like her.

They didn’t like her, because they didn’t like Harry and Harry embarrassed her, made her uncomfortable.

“Will? Will Byers?” Siri was exhausted, dragging her feet and slurring like she did when she was too tired to stay alert. That was when Harry had to be twice as alert, especially then.

It made Harry sick to think of what could have happened if Siri had been there instead of Benny. Harry didn’t - he didn’t like Benny, didn’t trust him, as much as Siri had… but he had probably died because of Harry and that - it made Harry sick.

“You know him?” Hop asked. There was a brown car outside - Hawkins Police Chief - and Hop opened the back door of it for them.

“That’s Jonathan’s brother.” Siri climbed in first and Harry looked around the lot once more, carefully poking around the shadows for anyone who shouldn’t be there, before he followed Siri in the car.

It wasn’t a great car, not as comfortable or clean as Steve’s. There wasn’t room for Harry’s legs with all the rubbish so Harry pulled them up to his chest and wrapped a loose arm around them.

It hadn’t been the worst day of Harry’s life, not by a long shot, but Harry could still feel the raw edges of Siri’s pain in his chest.

Siri’s screams, Siri’s tears, Siri’s pain.

Hop didn’t talk on the drive to wherever he lived, which Harry was thankful for. Harry didn’t want to answer questions, he didn’t want to try anymore. All he wanted was to stay with Siri…

It was too quiet for Siri though, Hop’s car was much quieter than Benny’s truck, so Harry hummed. Harry hummed until Hop pulled up to a house and Siri’s head had lolled over on Harry’s shoulder.

Hop opened the door and huffed quietly.

“I can carry her, she’s had a day,” he offered.

Harry was going to tell him no, he was going to tell him not to touch his sister. Siri wouldn’t like it, even if she was tired. But the raw edges in Harry’s chest had eased, been dulled by a deep sleep.

Which was worse? Waking her up and bringing that pain back or letting someone carry her inside a house so she could sleep?

Harry nodded and watched closely as Hop reached out for Siri, hefted her easily up in his arms. Hop wasn’t pinching her, he wasn’t clawing her skin. Siri’s head flopped backward and Hop let it rest on his shoulder.

Benny was dead and Siri cared about him, she deserved to have a shoulder to lay on.

“Go open the door,” Hop told Harry. “It’s unlocked.”

Harry walked quickly to the front door and opened it - how could Hop keep Siri safe if he couldn’t lock a door? - so Hop could carry Siri in. The inside of the house was… messy. Not cluttered, like Benny’s house had been, but… dirty. It smelled stale.

There were cans littered all around the sitting room, dirty clothes on a sofa. Harry carefully didn’t crinkle his nose at the plates of dishes that had food gone old on them and flies buzzing around. There was also an old chair that had stuffing poking out and a blanket bundled haphazardly in the seat.

“You good if I put her here?” Hop tilted his head toward the chair. “That bedroom might not be habitable.”

Harry nodded and moved the blanket so Hop could carefully place Siri down on the chair. Once she was curled up, Harry laid the blanket on her and tucked in the edges, making sure she wouldn’t get cold.

“I’m going to crash for a couple of hours,” Hop said, watching Harry watch Siri. “I have a missing kid, dead man, and fucking wizards. I need sleep.”

Harry nodded again - that was a lot. He wondered what kid was missing, if it was someone he knew.

“There might be some food in the fridge, help yourself. Blankets in the closet, remote on the TV, kid. Wake me if you need me.”

Did Harry need him? Siri was asleep, Benny was dead. Harry probably didn’t need him. Harry could watch the door, keep an eye on Siri. First he had to lock it, even if it wouldn’t keep Them out, it was stupid to keep the door unlocked.

Hop went to bed and left Harry alone… in a house that smelled bad… with his sister sound asleep on a chair.

Benny was dead. Siri was asleep.

Harry didn’t know what to do with that information so he started cleaning.

There were plenty of things that needed cleaning, Hop’s house was filthy. Harry hoped that Hop took protecting Siri more seriously than he took hygiene.

Harry checked on Siri as he methodically went from task to task… The dishes couldn’t go in the sink until the sink was clean… Siri was still sleeping… The sink couldn’t be properly cleaned until he had a the rubbish bagged up… Steve had been crying - Harry didn’t even know he knew Benny… The bottles and cans in the sitting room needed pitched… Benny was dead…

There was a phone attached to the wall and Harry… Harry had Steve’s phone number. Steve had said he didn’t have parents at his house, he was going to be there alone. Harry would like to be alone, if Siri were with him.

But Harry was a freak, everyone said so. Everyone called Harry a freak and he told Siri he would try harder and Benny was dead and maybe Steve would be like Siri, maybe he wouldn’t want to be alone.

Harry couldn’t leave Siri, but there was a phone.

It wasn’t difficult to dial the number, even if Harry wasn’t sure what he was going to say if Steve answered. He carefully put until phone against his ear and shifted until his back was against the wall and he could see Siri, see the front door.

“Hello?”

Harry should have practiced. It was better when he practiced - when Benny wasn’t dead, there weren’t wizards in Hawkins, and he practiced.

“Hello?” It sounded like Steve on the phone. “Look, it’s a bad time for a prank, okay?”

“Hello.” Harry closed his eyes for a second and wished he was more like Siri, he wished people didn’t laugh when they saw him, he wished he didn’t embarrass his sister.

“Who…? Is this Harry?”

“Yes.” Harry hesitated, his eyes on where Siri was curled up, her hair tangled up in her face and soft snores spilling from her mouth. What would she say? If Siri called Harry - what would she say?

“Are you okay?”

There was a silence long enough that Harry wondered if he had once again said the wrong thing, done the wrong thing.

“Am I… okay? I - are you okay?”

Was he…? Harry wasn’t hurt, he was tired. Siri was curled up sleeping. Benny was dead. There were wizards in Hawkins.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, thinking of how Siri would respond. “Thank you.”

Steve sighed in the phone, which was a terrible noise for Harry’s ear.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said in a sudden rush. “I mean - he was dead. And that’s crazy, right? Because - I - he was just dead. So I tried to sleep and I just kept seeing the blood and the way his eyes were so empty. God. Your sister too, is she okay? I thought I was going to freaking cry when she started.”

“Siri’s asleep,” Harry told him, answering the only real question Steve asked. And Steve had been crying, Harry had seen him.

“She’s sleeping? Oh, good. Cool. Wait - where are you guys? You’re not like at that house, right?”

“No.” Harry didn’t think there was any reason to not tell Steve where they were - he wasn’t a wizard and he wasn’t dangerous. “We’re at Hop’s.”

“Hop? Who - the police chief? Chief Hopper?”

“Yes.”

“I guess that makes sense…”

Harry nodded and shifted again, changed the phone to his other ear when Steve breathed too loudly. Everything had a staticky sound to it that Harry didn’t like.

“I’m sorry about your uncle,” Steve said. “It sucks.”

“It does suck,” Harry agreed, trying the word out slowly. It felt right, the right way to describe how Siri had been smiling more and Harry knew it was over. “It sucks,” he said again.

“Yeah.” Steve chuckled quietly, more fuzzy static in Harry’s ear. “I’m guessing you two won’t be at school, huh?”

Harry looked at the clock on Hop’s stove, tried to remember what time Jonathan usually picked them up. It was after eight, Jonathan didn’t know where they were, Siri was asleep.

“No,” Harry said. “We’re not going.”

“Me neither. I thought about it, thought maybe I should go, but… I dunno. I’m not going.”

“Okay.” Harry was tired, he was sick of talking. Steve was okay, Siri was asleep, Benny was dead.

“Thanks.” Steve cleared his throat and Harry cringed from the phone - it was the worst sound yet. “You know, for calling or whatever.”

“You’re welcome.”

“If you want, I - I can pick you guys up tomorrow. Unless you’re skipping, nobody would blame you. I could bring homework by if you need it.”

“I’ll ask Siri,” Harry said. “Er… thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. Later.”

Harry tried that word out too and decided it was another one that he liked, “Later.”

Siri was asleep. Benny was dead. There were wizards in Hawkins.

But Harry had done all he could do. All that was left was to watch over Siri until she woke up.

It sucked.

Chapter Text

Sirianna never felt cursed before, even if life seemed to have always been difficult, but she felt truly cursed suddenly.

Bad things kept happening, over and over. All of the good continued to be overshadowed with the bad and Sirianna didn’t understand why —

Why Benny was killed, why the world was a terrible place, why Sirianna ever thought things would change?

Sirianna woke in a new place and felt a strong wave of dejavu wash over her - another new place, another place that wasn’t made for her but Harry pushed them into anyway.

The only difference when Sirianna woke was that Benny was gone and Harry was talking.

“Hop went to work, there’s a kid missing,” Harry said after Sirianna woke and the whole series of horrible things replayed in her mind.

“It’s Will,” Sirianna said. She didn’t mean to snap, not at Harry, but sometimes he didn’t pay attention to things and Sirianna didn’t feel like saying it all over again. Sirianna knew it was Will because Chief Hopper told her so.

Just after Sirianna had to talk about three years of torment because Harry wouldn’t. Sirianna was the older one, she didn’t carry the weight of everything Harry did, but… but sometimes it just felt unfair. It felt unfair that Sirianna was the one to describe the horrors they lived through, the tests that never ended and the confidence that they could only leave the cages they were in through death.

It was unfair that Benny, who had been a good and kind man, had been killed. It was unfair that Sirianna didn’t know where else they could go where Harry would be safe.

It was unfair that it was on Sirianna’s shoulders to solve.

Harry was curled up like a cat on the side of the sofa closest to where Sirianna must have slept on a recliner. It was only because Harry’s eyes were closed and his shoulders moved in even breaths that Sirianna whispered her one wildest wish.

“I wish our parents were here.”

If their parents were alive, none of it would have ever happened. Sirianna and Harry would still be in school, probably studying for their OWLS. Sirianna’s biggest problem would be boys and quidditch and thinking about what she wanted to do with her life.

Sirianna never would have met the kind man with the blue eyes who had believed Sirianna had a good heart. It would have been for the best if she never met him, because then Benny would be in his diner… alive.

Then Harry said something so cruel that the tears that threatened to spill again dried almost instantly.

“I don’t miss them,” Harry mumbled.

Sirianna’s jaw dropped and she couldn’t believe Harry just said that. He still had his eyes closed, so unbothered as he tried to sleep.

Maybe that was why Harry didn’t talk, he never knew the right thing to say.

Sirianna couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop thinking about Benny and who would have killed him. It had to be one of the White Coats, Sirianna was sure of it. It didn’t seem like a coincidence that the man who let them stay with him - take over his whole life - ended up dead.

Why did they stop there though? Sirianna began pacing through the quiet house while she thought about it. If they knew that Sirianna and Harry would return to Benny’s home that afternoon, why not wait for them and kill them as well?

That was what didn’t make sense to Sirianna. They could have killed them so easily, Sirianna never would have expected it. They could have killed Benny, waited just inside the diner -

Harry would have ran in first, been killed instantly. Sirianna would have ran in next and they could have killed her. Steve was with them, but it wasn’t as if the White Coats would have been afraid to kill him, they would have wanted to be sure there was no evidence left behind - no witnesses.

But they didn’t. They killed Benny and… left?

It didn’t make sense and Sirianna couldn’t stay in the house that was all wrong to think about it. She needed air, she needed some proof that the world didn’t consist of just herself and Harry, as it had for years.

Sirianna searched through the drawers in the kitchen until she found a pen and paper. Her fingers were shaking as she quickly wrote that she was going for a walk, she would be back. Harry was still sleeping, Sirianna covered him up with the blanket she must have slept with before placing the note where he would see it and leaving.

It was the right amount of chilly outside, just enough so they Sirianna’s mind cleared with the wind but she didn’t freeze. Everything smelled like fall, the leaves were crispy and orange, and Sirianna hated it.

Fall used to be her favorite season, when she had been younger. Fall used to mean the start of a new school year, a chance to get away from her relatives during the day.

Sirianna had a paper chain counting down to fall the summer that they had been taken. It was something she made with Lavender Brown on the last day of school, a fun way to mark the days until they would be back at Hogwarts.

Sirianna stuffed her hands in her pockets and started walking with no real clue on where she walked.

Did the Dursleys throw it away? Did they throw away all of Sirianna and Harry’s belongings? Their wands, the cloak that belonged to their dad, the photo album that Hagrid gave them? Sirianna could see them doing just that, pitching all proof that the twins had ever existed.

Sometimes it felt like they never had existed to anyone else. They were temporary — a daughter and son for a year, students for a year. They were experiments for three years, Hammonds for two weeks. Sirianna had been a Gryffindor for a year, part of the quidditch team for a year.

Sirianna couldn’t explain it, but it all made her feel incredibly small and sad.

The only role that Sirianna never lost was being Harry’s sister and most of the time that was enough, but… it was also sad.

Sirianna walked slowly through the small town, letting her thoughts wander as much as she did. It wasn’t until she heard someone yelling her name that Sirianna lifted her head to turn around.

Behind her, walking out of a shop Sirianna had just passed with his arm full of papers, was Jonathan. It made Sirianna’s heart twist to see the curl of his shoulders and the bags under his eyes.

“Jonathan, hi,” Sirianna said, backtracking to help him pick up one of the papers that blew off the stack. She picked it up from the sidewalk and the twist in her chest was tightened - it was a poster, for Will.

The quiet and shy boy with the dark hair and solemn eyes was grinning at Sirianna from the poster with the word MISSING above his head. There were details beneath his photo; height, weight, a general description of him and his bicycle.

“I’m so sorry about your brother,” Sirianna said, picturing her own brother in Will’s photo. If Harry had been taken by himself, Sirianna would have gone spare.

It had been painful, what they went through. Sirianna couldn’t imagine if Harry had to do it all alone.

“I - I heard about your uncle,” Jonathan said with sad eyes. “Benny was a good man, I’m sorry.”

Benny was a good man and he was gone. There was no way to fix it, nothing Sirianna could do to bring him back.

“I am too,” she said. She held up the paper she had and looked around the area they stood in. “Are you hanging these up? I can help,” she offered.

“No, I mean - you don’t have to.” Jonathan took the paper back and added it to his stack. “You’re busy.”

She wasn’t, actually.

“I’d like to,” she said more firmly. Jonathan was Harry’s friend, Will had seemed sweet. Will was missing, he wasn’t kidnapped and he wasn’t dead - Sirianna could help hang posters. “Do you have any ideas where he might be?”

Jonathan seemed to accept Sirianna’s offer to help because he didn’t argue when she fell in step beside him. He had a small hammer and a bag of nails in his coat pocket and he passed all the papers but one to Sirianna so he could hang one.

“None,” Jonathan said rather bleakly. He held the poster to a wooden pole and hammered a nail in the top of it quickly. “The police are acting like he ran away, my mom - my mom’s losing it. God.” Jonathan groaned and tipped his head forward, resting it on the pole for a second.

“Will’s my baby brother, my best friend.”

Sirianna thought of Harry curled up on a sofa, she thought of him in a dozen different places at a million points of time. Harry as a very small boy in a garden as they pulled weeds. Harry at primary when he proudly showed Sirianna his name with wobbly letters. Harry under the Sorting Hat at Hogwarts. Harry flying through the air with all the grace Sirianna didn’t have.

“I get it,” Sirianna told Jonathan - she did. In all the ways that every place she had was temporary, being Harry’s sister was always consistent.

It couldn’t be outran, it couldn’t be taken from her.

“Let’s hang these posters and I’ll help you search,” Sirianna said. She slowly put her hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Let’s find your brother.”

Surely there weren’t many places for one boy to be hidden at.

Jonathan drove all over town, giving Sirianna quite the tour, to hang posters. They went inside a bank, a post office, a soda shop, and a store that Jonathan mentioned his mum worked at. A woman at a hair salon promised to hand out extras when Sirianna explained what they were doing.

They stopped at the elementary school, the one for very small children, to hang a poster outside and just inside on a bulletin board. Jonathan drove past the school where Will attended, there were already posters there that Jonathan said Will’s friends hung up.

School was still in session when Jonathan pulled in the high school lot and Sirianna scowled when a group of students were lingering outside and watched her and Jonathan walk up to the bulletin board.

“Ignore them,” Sirianna told Jonathan quietly when someone whistled at them. It was difficult to do, but they were clearly too busy to get in any stupid fights.

“Yeah, whatever,” Jonathan mumbled. He started to hang one of the posters when Sirianna heard the most cruel comment —

“I bet he killed him.”

Jonathan’s hands shook so badly that he stabbed himself with a tack as Sirianna spun around with a glare.

How dare they? How dare they say that Jonathan would kill his own brother? Jonathan was clearly distraught and they - they —

“Shut your mouths.” Nancy Wheeler, a girl in a few of Sirianna’s classes, shouldered past the group that snickered at Jonathan and cast a withering glare at them. “You don’t know a thing,” Nancy told them. “Idiots.”

Sirianna had a lot more she would have said, but Nancy walked up to them and asked for some of posters.

“Have you put any at the churches?” she asked Jonathan with a sad smile. “I can put some there if you want.”

“Yeah - I mean, no, I haven’t, thanks,” Jonathan stammered as he handed some posters to her.

“No problem, I’m sure Mike will want to help too,” Nancy said. “How’s your mom?”

“Stressed, terrified.” Jonathan sighed, “We just want him home.”

“I hope you find him soon.” Nancy squeezed Jonathan’s arm briefly before she looked to Sirianna. “And I heard about your uncle, I’m so sorry.”

Sirianna nodded appreciatively. Even if Benny hadn’t been her true uncle, he - he had been something like family… for the brief time that Sirianna knew him.

“Call me if you need anything,” Nancy told them - both of them, it seemed. “I have to go.”

“Thanks,” Jonathan said. He raised a hand in farewell as Nancy backed up to get to class.

It was an inappropriate time to mention it, so Sirianna didn’t, but Jonathan did watch Nancy walk away until she turned down a corridor and disappeared.

“Nancy’s brother Mike is Will’s best friend,” Jonathan told her when they left the school. Jonathan seemed so lost, just a boy driving around while missing a part of himself. “Will was at Mike’s house the other night.”

“Oh.” Sirianna tried to be subtle, it truly was a bad time, but she was nosy. “Are you and Nancy friends then?”

Jonathan shrugged, though Sirianna didn’t think she imagined the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Friendly enough,” he said, which wasn’t an answer at all. “I’m going to go to Muncie, want me to drop you off somewhere?”

“What’s in Muncie?” Sirianna asked, weighing her desire to go mad in a house she didn’t belong in against how long she had already been away from Harry.

“My dad,” Jonathan said flatly. “He’s not answering the phone, I’m going to go check if Will’s been there.”

Sirianna was worried that Harry would wake up alone in a new place and he might be scared. But Jonathan also seemed scared, beneath his stoic mask he had to be scared. Jonathan had to be, because every time Harry was out of Sirianna’s sight she was scared.

Harry was alive though, he was safe, and Sirianna couldn’t sit around thinking of Benny.

“I’ll go with you,” Sirianna said. “You really shouldn’t be alone.”

Jonathan made a protest but it was weak enough that Sirianna could pretend he hadn’t. They wouldn’t be gone long, Jonathan said that his father lived thirty minutes away. Harry probably wouldn’t wake up before Sirianna returned. Jonathan’s little brother was missing, that was important.

The drive out of Hawkins had Sirianna sweating beneath her clothes. It seemed as if the further they drove, the more difficult it was for her to breathe.

“Can I turn this on?” Sirianna asked Jonathan after too much silence. She pointed at the radio that usually played soft music to fill her mind.

“Yeah, okay.” Jonathan glanced sideways at Sirianna while she simultaneously pressed the button for the radio and cranked down her window. “Are you okay?”

Sirianna nodded and pictured Harry sleeping, sound asleep with a blanket tucked around him. Harry was fine, her brother wasn’t missing.

“I - it’s stupid, I miss Harry,” she said, knowing that wasn’t quite right. Sirianna did miss him, but it was her mind that missed him - that started picturing him hurting or sick without her there.

“That’s not stupid,” Jonathan said. “I don’t think so anyway. I mean, I get it. Will’s missing and I feel like I can’t even breathe anymore, like he’s the only reason I ever breathed to start with.”

“Exactly,” Sirianna said. The more Jonathan talked, the less she was able to picture Harry slumped on a table with blood pouring from a wound on his head. “You’re close then, with Will?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan smiled faintly, fondness softening every line he was too young to have on his face. “Probably not as close as you and Harry, but Will and I have been through a lot, you know? But it was never so bad because I had him and he had me.”

Sirianna could understand that more than Jonathan would know.

“Sometimes - sometimes Harry’s quiet,” Sirianna said. Jonathan actually snorted, which brought a brief smile to Sirianna’s face. “I know, but sometimes it makes me insane. Don’t, please don’t tell him I said that. Actually, ignore me. I think I might be going insane.”

Sirianna didn’t want anyone to think she was badmouthing her brother. Harry was - Harry meant everything to Sirianna. There wasn’t any world where she wanted to be, could possibly be, without her twin.

Jonathan did as Sirianna asked and ignored her. It made her feel worse, if possible, because Benny was dead and Jonathan’s brother was missing and Sirianna was whining about Harry.

“I yelled at Will, the other night,” Jonathan said abruptly after two songs had played on the radio. “He wanted me to fix his bike, I was busy developing photos. So… I told him to leave me alone because he’s - he’s my annoying kid brother and I love him more than anything, but he’s my brother so he annoys the hell out of me sometimes too.”

Jonathan glanced over at Sirianna, “I bet you annoy Harry.”

Did… when - how? How on earth would Sirianna annoy Harry? Maybe… she used to.

“Siri!” Harry pushed Sirianna off him, after he let her hug him for a few seconds, and his cheeks were so red. “You’re embarrassing me!” he hissed.

“That’s my job.” Sirianna grinned, pleased with her effort, and smacked Harry’s hand away so she could ruffle his hair. “Embarass my LITTLE BITTY BABY BROTHER!”

“Oh my God.” Harry groaned and looked around, blushing harder when he saw the giggles from his housemates. “It’s seven minutes, Siri.”

“Might as well be seven years.” Sirianna wiped fake tears away and waved when Harry dramatically stormed away from her. “I LOVE YOU, BABY HARRY!”

It went without saying that if anyone else tried to call him that, Sirianna and Harry would both make them regret it.

“I used to embarrass him.” Sirianna grinned at the memories. “He would be with his friends who all thought they were quite cool and I would go running at him, calling him my little baby brother.”

“I do that to Will,” Jonathan said, they shared a grin of understanding. “When I drop him off with his friends and he forgets to say bye, I yell at him sometimes, stupid shit like how I can’t believe he’s all grown up and—” Jonathan’s breath hitched and Sirianna’s heart broke for him. “— and I love him.”

Jonathan turned his head away so Sirianna reached over and ignored the prickly feeling of his skin under her fingers while she squeezed his hand - just as she would do for her brother, just as she hoped someone would do for Harry if she weren’t with him.

“He knows,” Sirianna said, thinking of her brother and the pain that seemed to follow them, the words that Harry never had enough of. “He knows you love him.”

Harry had to know that.

Jonathan’s father turned out to be an exceedingly unpleasant man. Sirianna had thought that Jonathan was going to ask him if he had seen Will recently, she wasn’t expecting the thorough search of the property that Jonathan started.

Sirianna didn’t need told to help though, she just started searching in cupboards and closets while Jonathan searched bedrooms. A woman that surely wasn’t much older than Sirianna yelled at them, but since Jonathan didn’t speak to her, neither did Sirianna.

Jonathan yelled for Will, but Sirianna didn’t think he was there.

“Stay out of my house!” The woman slammed the door when Jonathan tore out of the back door. “You’re crazy!”

“That’s Lonnie’s girlfriend of the month,” Jonathan explained when they finished the search of the house - trailer, Jonathan called it. “Ignore him,” Jonathan added, nodding briefly to an older man standing in the back lawn with a flannel shirt on and a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Johnny? That you, boy?” The man smiled slowly and it was a slimy smile, not at all friendly. “And who’s this? A girlfriend?”

“Shut up.” Jonathan shoved past his father to get to the blue car behind him. Sirianna scurried to catch up and she peeked beneath the car, in the windows. Jonathan opened the boot, looked in there, then turned to slam his hands against his father’s chest.

“You can’t answer a call? Your son is missing and you can’t answer your phone?” Jonathan shoved his father again and Sirianna straightened up immediately when his father caught Jonathan by the shirt collar and tossed him away from him.

“Only time your mom calls me is when she wants something,” his father said. “I didn’t even know Will was missing until that fucking cop showed up. I haven’t seen Will since last Christmas.”

“That was two years ago!” Jonathan yelled. “You ever stop and think that’s not normal?”

“Oh fuck off, you sound just like Joyce,” Lonnie groaned. “Jesus Christ, you two can’t keep track of one little kid and you come here yelling at me for it?”

Jonathan looked ready to hit his father again and Sirianna thought the man deserved it, but there was the handle of a gun that she saw even he shifted and - and enough people were dead and missing.

“Let’s just go,” Sirianna told Jonathan quickly, stepping between him and his father so Jonathan had to hear her. “Will isn’t here. We should get back to searching, okay?”

Jonathan was seething and glaring at his father over his shoulder, but he glanced down at Sirianna and the tightness of his jaw relaxed some.

“Yeah, okay,” Jonathan said. “Someone has to find Will.”

“Don’t know how you’ll find him, since you were the one who fucking lost him!” Lonnie yelled when Jonathan stormed away with Sirianna beside him. “Maybe I oughta find him, bring him here and raise him right!”

“Go fuck yourself, Lonnie,” Jonathan yelled back. They opened their doors of his car just before a rock flew at them and smashed in the back windshield. Sirianna yelped at the sound of the glass crunching and Jonathan looked truly murderous.

“It’s not worth it,” Sirianna said when Jonathan seemed tempted to smash his father like the glass. “He’s not,” she added.

It must be disappointing to Jonathan, to have a father who would do things like throw rocks at his head. Lonnie didn’t seem to care about his missing son, he wasn’t even helping to search. Maybe Lonnie would throw away anything of Will’s he had, pretend he had never existed.

It was sad and Sirianna once again felt a small connection to Jonathan, one he might not know they shared.

Jonathan said he needed to check on his mum, make sure she had something to eat, before he wanted to go out searching again. Sirianna asked if he would mind to drop her off and promised that she would help him search again later when he was ready.

If Harry was awake… maybe he would go. Harry was powerful, brilliant, he might have an idea of how to find Will.

“Thanks, for today,” Jonathan said after he pulled up at Chief Hopper’s house. He had raised a brow when Sirianna told him who she was staying with, but hadn’t commented until then.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Sirianna told him. She shrugged as she climbed out of the car. “You’re my friend, Jonathan. If - well, that’s just what friends do.”

And, because Sirianna did consider them to be friends, Sirianna also pretended to not notice the tear that fell from Jonathan’s eye.

He had a long day, Sirianna could empathize.

Sirianna felt uneasy when she let herself inside Chief Hopper’s home. It wasn’t her home, even if it seemed as if they would be staying there for at least a day or so. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be at the diner telling Gareth and Langley and the other men about high school and laughing when Benny teased them about their weights even if she thought they all seemed healthy enough.

Chief Hopper’s house was not Sirianna’s.

Though Harry seemed to have made himself at home.

Harry wasn’t asleep like Sirianna hoped he would be, Harry was awake and flitting around the house with shaky and erratic steps. It was unusual, just as the rush of rambling he did as soon as Sirianna closed the door behind her was.

“I’m sorry, Siri. I’m sorry. I - you do everything, everything. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I don’t want you to hurt. And I was lying anyway, I do miss them too. I do.”

Sirianna’s frustration with Harry’s silence and her guilt for that frustration and the million of complicated emotions she felt about Harry sometimes disappeared when he turned around and Sirianna could see and feel that he was miserable.

Harry was miserable and it was unacceptable.

Sirianna crossed through the house quickly, scrunching her nose at the smell of something burned from the kitchen, and she wrapped her arms around Harry so tightly that she might never let go.

Harry wasn’t dead, Harry wasn’t missing. Harry was there and he was Sirianna’s brother and she needed him as much as he needed her.

It felt like pieces of herself snapped back in place with her arms wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry.” Sirianna held Harry tightly and put her face in his shoulder. “I’m the one that’s sorry.”

“I thought - I thought you were done,” Harry mumbled, his face as similarly hidden as it was identical to Sirianna’s.

“I left a note.”

“You felt done.”

How could Sirianna possibly explain to Harry that the one place she had always fit - the one role she would never put down - was with him?

“I’d never be done with you, Har,” Sirianna said, choking up when she pictured Harry on a poster, Harry slumped over a table. “Never,” she swore.

“I…” Harry hesitated when he reached up to hold Sirianna back as tightly as she was him. “I don’t miss them because I have you.”

That made Sirianna feel impossibly small, too small for the expectations that Harry placed on her. It made her sad too, sad to think that Harry thought she was in any way a replacement for their parents who would have loved them, protected them, taken care of them.

“I love you,” was all Sirianna could say.

At least Harry finally hugged her back tightly, crushing her against him in a way that kept her from falling apart.

“I love you.”

Chapter Text

Steve lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. It was so dark in his house, quiet too. Steve had been sweating when Officer Powell drove him home so he turned the heater off and it cast the house in absolute silence in the day since.

There had been a few calls; Harry called him that morning, a kind of weird conversation that oddly made Steve feel a little better for a short time. Tommy had called after school, asking where Steve was and if he still wanted to have him and Carol come over. That was it though, after Steve hung up with Tommy - claiming he was sick and didn’t feel up to hanging out - he went back to bed to stare at the ceiling.

It was sick - Benny Hammond’s body. Steve could still see his eyes and the way they were hazy, lifeless… the blood that had poured from his forehead and dried a dark red on his face…

The worst part had been Sirianna, her screaming and crying. It made Steve choke up, made him want to cry too because she was so freaking sad.

Steve wasn’t a wuss, but he really didn’t expect to see a body stiff and dead when he offered to drive the twins home from school. Steve had been planning to flirt with Sirianna some, invite her to the party he was supposed to be having.

How long did it take Benny Hammond to die? Was it quick? As quick as a bullet in his brain? Why did he do it? Why would he sit in the middle of his diner and just blow his brains out?

That seemed pretty jacked up to Steve. Benny would have known that the twins were going to have to walk in, did he want them to see him?

God.

Steve rolled over in his bed and pulled his blanket around himself more securely.

Benny had been an alright guy, Steve met him a few times. Sure, the twins were kind of weird, but for Benny to do that to them? To kill himself right in the middle of the diner where they were sure to see him? It was messed up and sad and it made Steve feel cold on the inside when he closed his eyes and all he could hear were Sirianna’s screams.

Maybe he should have had that party, it might have been better if there were people around to make noise and laugh. Steve could have gotten drunk too, that definitely would have been better.

When Steve’s bladder couldn’t be ignored any longer, he made himself get out of his bed to move downstairs. He debated on skipping one more day of school, it was Friday anyway, then decided against it. If he missed two days then the school would call his parents and they would call Steve.

And Steve already called them, tried to tell them about what happened the day before. His mom had been busy and his dad didn’t answer. They would answer for the school, then call Steve and tell him he either had to call the family doctor or drive himself to school.

It would just be easier to show up, Steve was sure.

Steve walked around downstairs and started turning on every light, turning the heater up. He even turned the TV on, just for some noise. It was pretty pathetic, Steve could be having a party with his friends and instead he was watching a party on the TV to pretend like he wasn’t alone in a big house at night.

God. He was such a loser. It wasn’t even his uncle that died, it was the twins’s. They were the ones who should feel all weird inside from seeing his body.

Sirianna had definitely been totally devastated, Harry had been… off? He was off, like literally turned off. Steve thought maybe he would get even quieter, but then he called him.

Which had been weird and kind of nice. Steve didn’t tell Tommy about seeing Benny’s body, but he doubted it Tommy would have called to check on him either way. Tommy would have asked for details and Steve’s stomach felt sick when he imagined everyone at school gossiping about something so sad.

Harry called though and Steve sat on his couch in a bright house with fake noise filling it and thought about calling Harry back. Maybe the twins would want to hang out, do something to get their minds off their uncle’s dead body.

Steve could give them a ride to school in the morning, tell everyone else to lay off them. Really, they weren’t bad. Sirianna didn’t seem to like Steve much, she even called him a shit hole, but Harry was cool. He had Steve kind of cracking up during gym when he tried to dribble the basketball.

Basketball probably just wasn’t his thing. Steve thought maybe he could mention it if he called him? Offer to help him practice? It wasn’t like Harry was going to try out for the team, but it might help the guys lay off him if he didn’t look so awkward in gym.

Nobody ever bothered Byers for sucking at sports, but Harry sort of looked like an awkward baby deer with his skinny arms and legs, round eyes, and the sense that he wasn’t listening when most people were talking.

It could be worse, Harry could be a complete dick like Hargrove and he wasn’t, he called to check on Steve.

Steve made up his mind and muted the TV so he could push himself off the couch to go call the twins. They were staying with Chief Hopper, which was weird. Steve wasn’t sure where he’d be sent to live if his parents died, but he doubted it would be with the Chief of Police. It would probably be to his aunt? The one who lived in Nashville?

Or maybe Steve would be considered old enough to stay in Hawkins by himself. He practically lived alone anyway with his parents both working out of Chicago. They used to talk about buying a house and moving Steve out in Chicago with them. Steve had thrown a fit, said he didn’t want to move schools.

It had been at least a year since they mentioned anything about moving, so Steve assumed they were just waiting for him to graduate and go to college. Until then, Steve had a car, access to money, a lady showed up once a week with groceries and to clean.

It was fine, Steve liked having a nice place where he could have people over and never worried about his parents finding out. Yeah, it was kind of lonely sometimes, but there wasn’t usually a lack of people Steve could call to hang out if he wanted to.

Harry might want to, he was the one who agreed to let Steve give them a ride home.

Steve looked up Chief Hopper’s number in the phone book, only one Hopper in Hawkins, and carefully dialed it while he told himself it wasn’t stupid to call. Tommy would probably laugh his ass off about it, but even he admitted that Sirianna was pretty.

Steve would call, see if Harry wanted to come over and bring his sister, Steve would brush it off when Tommy found out. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just Steve being a nice guy.

The phone rang four times before the very irritated and unhappy voice of Chief Hopper answered.

“What?”

Steve blinked, kind of knocked off guard by that.

“Uh… hello, is Harry home?” Steve asked politely.

“No.”

Okay…

“Do you know when he’ll be home?”

“When he gets hungry I expect.”

Right… so the conversation wasn’t exactly going the way Steve imagined.

“Is Sirianna there?” he asked hopefully, assuming it would be a —

Chief Hopper snorted through the phone line.

“Wherever he’s at, she’s at,” Chief Hopper said. “If that’s all then.”

Steve was sure he looked like an idiot when Chief Hopper hung up on him. For one, rude. For two, where would the twins be? Tommy mentioned that Byers’s brother had ran away (or been murdered by Byers, Steve wasn’t sure what Tommy’s version of events had been exactly) so Steve doubted if they were hanging out with him.

Chrissy seemed to like Sirianna, maybe they were with her? Or maybe they were packing their stuff from Benny’s house and planning to move to their next relative’s house.

That thought made Steve feel kind of shitty. Like they just arrived in Hawkins and everyone had been crappy toward them and they might be leaving before they could see anything good about Hawkins.

It was quiet again, after Steve hung the phone on the receiver.

Steve decided against turning the TV back on and instead wandered in the kitchen to grab a beer. Steve pretty boldly kept them in the fridge, he was sure the cleaning lady would have told his parents, but they never mentioned it. As long as Steve moved them to the trunk of his car when they returned for a few days then it never came up.

Whatever. It didn’t matter, everyone thought it was cool how much freedom Steve had. It would probably suck if Steve’s parents were home all the time and got worked up over every little thing he did.

Or maybe the house wouldn’t be so cold, so quiet.

Steve walked around for a few minutes before he went out the back door. The swimming pool his parents had installed when Steve made the swim team was lit up and looked inviting. The water wouldn’t be bad, it was all heated.

It could be a decent stress reliever, Steve could just swim until his muscles were sore and his brain was too tired to think about dead guys and the twins.

Steve drank down about half of his beer before he put it on the ledge by the pool so he could strip. There was nothing but woods that surrounded his house, Steve swam in his briefs all the time.

He swam naked too, but there was something creepy about the woods that night that made him want to stay at least partially dressed.

Steve dove in the water and with the rush of it he could already feel himself relaxing in the familiar rhythm.

Stroke, kick, push.

Stroke, kick, push.

The water muffled the rest of the world and Steve wished he had thought to swim sooner. In the water there was only Steve and his breathing, his heartbeat. There wasn’t room for pictures of dead bodies or the screams of heartbroken girls.

Stroke, kick, push.

Stroke, kick, push.

Lap after lap, Steve swam. Every lap made his body ache a little more, his mind slow some. He had been stupid, it wasn’t as big of a deal as he had acted like it was. People died, they got depressed and they killed themselves and they died. Someone had to see the body, it didn’t matter that it was Steve.

After Steve swam himself to a nice state of bliss, he flipped over on his back and let himself float, taking in the peacefulness of the night. The wind rustled the trees, the moon shined, Steve finally felt —

Snap.

Steve jerked upright and fell over on his side, splashing and sputtering at the sound of something behind the garage. Everything went silent and Steve could feel literal goosebumps on his arms.

“Hello?” he called out. He squinted through the darkness and swam to the edge closest to where the sound had come from. “Someone there? Tommy? It’s not funny, man.”

Steve practically held his breath while he waited for another sound. It felt like he wasn’t alone outside anymore, like there was someone - or something - outside with him.

It could be a ghost, maybe the ghost of Benny haunting Steve for a few crummy jokes made about the twins. Or - or —

“Hello.”

Steve spun around with his heart racing so fast he felt like he’d ran ten miles. Walking out of the woods on the far side of Steve’s yard was freaking Harry.

Steve whipped his head back and forth, sure he had heard the noise from behind the garage. There wasn’t anyone creeping out over there though so Steve splashed as much water as far toward Harry as he could manage.

“Why would you do that?” Steve cried, trying too late to pretend like he hadn’t been scared shitless. “Jesus, man. You can’t just sneak up on people.”

“I…” Harry stopped about ten feet from the pool and let his eyes wander around the yard while Steve quickly snatched his shirt by the pool and pulled it over his head. It was cold, Steve didn’t want to look like a loser in a pool with goosebumps.

“I thought I heard something,” Harry said, squinting at the garage then. “Then I saw you.”

Yeah, in his freaking underwear. Steve had seen plenty of the guys from school undressed and they had seen him, but that was for locker rooms or whatever, not when he was in a pair of plain gray briefs that he probably should have thrown away by then.

“Why are you even out here?” Steve asked, refusing to climb out of the pool until Harry was gone.

Harry shrugged and blinked at Steve, looking from him to his clothes and his half-empty beer.

“We’re looking for Will,” Harry said. “Have you seen him?”

Had Steve seen a missing kid and not bothered to report it? No, he wasn’t actually a shit hole like Sirianna had called him. It kind of sucked that Harry asked him that.

“No,” Steve said, annoyed that Harry would think he would ignore a missing kid. “Turn around, let me get my freaking pants on.”

Harry did it and Steve no sooner rolled out of the pool and started pulling up his sweats when two more people walked out of the woods to join the party. Steve should have expected to see Sirianna and Jonathan Byers, Harry did say ‘we’, but they acted like they didn’t expect to see Steve.

In his own yard.

“Steve? Harry?” Sirianna frowned at her brother and waved toward Steve. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

A really good question.

“I thought I heard something,” Harry repeated. He said it slower to Sirianna, stressing something Steve didn’t understand. “I was wrong.”

“You can’t just take off,” Sirianna lectured Harry while Steve finished dressing and Byers looked around the yard with his camera hanging from his neck. “You’ve got to wait for me, Har. Okay?”

Steve grinned a little, already over the initial jump scare. Sirianna was bossy, probably the older twin if he had to guess.

“Okay,” Harry said. “He doesn’t have Will.”

No shit? What would Steve want with some kid?

“Are you guys asking like everyone in town?” Steve asked. He grinned again when Harry still had his back to him. “You can turn around.”

Harry did and Steve thought he was purposefully not looking at him until his eyes flickered to him once and then relaxed. It was kind of funny, Harry acting shy about Steve in his briefs.

“Will plays in the woods sometimes,” Byers answered Steve. He held up his camera in a helpless move. “I thought - maybe if we found something…”

Like blood or clothes or some evidence for a missing kid… God, Hawkins was messed up lately.

“Yeah, yeah that makes sense,” Steve said. “You guys - uh… want a drink or something? It’s probably easier to look in the daylight?”

Just like at school, Harry said yes at the exact second that Sirianna said no.

“Harry… no,” Sirianna repeated tightly. “We’re looking for Will.”

“Steve’s right, it’s too dark. Even if we found something of his, we’d probably walk right past it,” Byers said. He glanced at Steve’s house then Steve himself. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve snatched his drink up and waved it toward the back door. “My casa is your casa.”

Steve swore that Sirianna rolled her eyes at Harry as he followed Byers toward the house. She followed Harry, which was good enough. It wasn’t like Steve was dangerous or whatever, he was just a guy with a quiet house.

“It’s really nice of you to help Byers,” Steve told Sirianna on their way inside. “I’m sure you probably have a lot going on.”

“His brother is missing, why wouldn’t I help him?” Sirianna asked. She probably didn’t want an answer, since Steve wasn’t sure how to say anything without sounding like a dick.

Instead, Steve pointed out where the bathroom was for Byers and took the twins to the kitchen. They were both looking around the house curiously and Steve wondered if they thought it was all too clean, too untouched. There weren’t any family photos displayed anywhere, no embarrassing photos of Steve that his friends would laugh at when they visited.

“Your house is lovely,” Sirianna said. She shook her head when Steve offered a beer. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s cold,” Harry said, also shaking his head at the offer of a drink.

“Cold? It’s like eighty in here,” Steve said. He checked the thermostat and was right, seventy-eight, probably too hot really.

Harry only shrugged and Steve felt kinda self-conscious to have both of the twins standing in his kitchen all quiet and judgy. Maybe not judgy, but they were definitely looking around and standing kind of awkwardly.

“So… are you guys going to school tomorrow?” Steve asked. “It’s Friday, so there’s usually a pep rally for the football team. They - uh… they might cancel it, actually… I don’t know. Ignore me.”

The school did cancel it once, when Brooke Hartley’s dad died. With Benny’s death and Will Byers missing, they would probably cancel it again. So Steve was just rambling about a pep rally while two sets of nearly identical eyes stared at him.

“I don’t know what a pep rally is,” Harry said, heroically saving Steve from drowning in inner embarrassment. “Is it fun?”

“Fun? Yeah, sometimes.” Steve brightened at the chance to explain it. “Basically everyone gets out of class early, we’d get to skip gym, and the cheer team gets everyone hyped up in the stands and then they talk about the football game and how we’re going to crush the other school. It’s like a whole school-wide bonding thing.”

“So everyone just screams?” Sirianna asked. “And they do it every Friday?”

“I… I mean it sounds lame when you say it like that,” Steve said. Harry was staring at him and Steve ran a hand through his hair, hating how it fell when it was wet. “Some of us go out together afterwards. Oh! You guys could come! And By - uh, Jonathan,” he added when Byers walked in the kitchen.

“I think we’ll be busy, looking for Will,” Sirianna said - the most unimpressed a girl had ever been with Steve before. Which, fair. It wasn’t exactly a thoughtful offer.

“You could help,” Harry said, shocking his sister by the look of it. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“What? No, I will,” Steve agreed quickly, hardly needing to think about it. Obviously he should help find Will Byers, it was way more important than hanging out with Tommy, Carol, and the others and hearing the same dumb jokes and stupid stories.

“Are you guys meeting up after school?” Steve asked, looking to Byers. They’d never been friends, but his brother was missing and Steve should help. It was the right thing to do probably.

Steve wasn’t exactly sure how he’d help find the kid, but Harry nearly smiled when Steve said he’d meet up with them all after school to join the search party.

Byers had to leave after that, said he needed to check in with his mom. Steve tried to play it cool, see if the twins wanted to stay, but Sirianna refused and Harry probably would never stay without her.

They were kind of like a package deal, like if one of them decided they really hated Steve then the other one would too.

“Hey.” Steve stopped Sirianna for a second before she left. “I - I’m sorry, about Benny,” he said quietly. “That really sucks.”

“Oh. It - thank you,” she said slowly, kind of unfairly seeming surprised that Steve was a human-being. “It does suck, quite a bit.”

“If you guys need anything…” Steve trailed off as he looked past Sirianna to where Harry had paused just beyond the front steps with his head tilted, obviously waiting for his sister.

It was something about the lamp or something that hung above him, it made Harry look softer, more relaxed. Kind of… like in the light he was kind of….

Pretty or something.

That was a weird thing to think and Steve quickly moved his own thoughts past that, wishing that he hadn’t ever thought it. It was the twin thing, Steve didn’t really know any twins. And Harry looked like Sirianna and she was pretty; all big eyes and long dark lashes…

Twins were weird, that was all.

“Thank you,” Sirianna said. She didn’t sound irritated like usual on the few occasions she had talked to Steve so he considered it a win. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Steve raised a hand toward Harry and nodded absently at Sirianna. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

It was quiet again, when the twins and Byers left and Steve was home alone. It wasn’t as bad though - the whole thing had been weird and Steve probably wouldn’t go swimming in his briefs again anytime soon - but it was alright.

Even Byers seemed decent, it sucked his brother was missing.

Steve slept better that night, any sleep was better than the nothing he had on Wednesday night. He got up a little earlier than usual, spend some time with his hair in the mirror.

Carol gave him shit one time, said Steve fussed over his hair more than she did hers. But Steve liked his hair. It didn’t make him a loser because he took care of his hair and didn’t go to school with it laying all limp like he had never even heard of Aquanet.

And Steve had plans for after school, he didn’t want to be driving - or walking? Steve wasn’t sure which - around town looking like a - a wet dog.

Steve was still on time to school, pulling up just after Hargrove did in his flashy Camaro.

Tommy was distracted with a wrestling match he had going on with Jason, so Steve wandered over by the lamppost in the middle of the lot and frowned at the missing poster that had been nailed to it. Steve couldn’t remember so many weird things happening in Hawkins before in his entire life.

Three new students in a year, one suicide, and a missing kid? Those were the kind of things that happened in big cities, not small towns like Hawkins.

“Don’t worry, Stevie Wonder, nobody would hang up posters if you decide to run away.”

Steve’s spine stiffened and he turned, already knowing who the mocking drawl came from. It was Hargrove, standing a few steps behind Steve with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Why did the guy have such a boner for making Steve miserable? Like what exactly did Steve do to him?

“Nice eye,” Steve commented, wondering who had the balls to black Hargrove’s eye. “Who did it? I might ask ‘em to prom.”

It was the wrong thing to say, or the right thing, it was hard telling with Hargrove. The guy was a loose cannon, he always looked ready to blow up over the littlest things.

“Yeah?” Hargrove took a step closer to Steve and he had been calm, but clearly Steve pissed him off. “You probably would, faggot.”

“What is your problem?” Steve wasn’t afraid of Hargrove so when he stepped closer, Steve didn’t care to step right up to him. “I never did shit to you.”

“Maybe…” Hargrove pushed Steve in the chest, knocking him back half a step. “I just don’t like you.”

Yeah, maybe. Some people probably didn't like Steve. Except Hargrove showed up on the first day of junior year acting like they were freaking lifelong enemies.

“Yeah? Maybe you should get over it,” Steve snapped. He didn’t want to fight with him, it wasn’t like it would stop him from being a prick. It would probably just make it worse, since Hargrove seemed to always want a fight.

“Maybe someone should knock you down a peg,” Hargrove said. He reached out quick and had Steve by the shirt collar. Steve was pretty sure he was about to get his clock cleaned and he wasn’t going to be a pussy about it.

“Billy? Steve?”

Steve didn’t look away from Hargrove’s fist, he kept a close eye on the slowly lowering fist while a familiar pair broke through the crowd that had gathered around Steve and Hargrove.

“Hey, kitten.” Hargrove suddenly shoved Steve away, letting go of his shirt collar as he did and sending Steve to land on his ass in front of what seemed like half the school.

Steve huffed and started to push himself up, his ego more bruised than anything. Sirianna had walked right up to Hargrove like they were old friends while Harry went to Steve and offered him a hand up.

Steve should have turned it down, not made himself look any more pathetic than he did. But… Harry was being nice and Steve wasn’t actually a giant prick.

“Thanks,” Steve muttered, freaking humiliated. He should just hit Hargrove, save his pride.

Harry pulled him up with a little more strength that Steve expected and didn’t make a deal about it, only nodded distractedly while he glared daggers at Hargrove.

“Why were you fighting with Steve?” Sirianna asked Hargrove, demanding it really. Steve sort of expected Hargrove to go off on her, call her a meddling bitch or something, but Hargrove leaned back so he could look down at Sirianna and smirk.

“Can’t stand his face,” Hargrove said casually. “Yours looks good though.”

Was he - was… was Billy Hargrove seriously flirting with Sirianna? And was Sirianna freaking blushing when she had called Steve a shit hole when he tried to flirt with her??

If anyone at Hawkins was a ‘shit hole’ it was Hargrove!

“And yours looks bruised,” Sirianna pointed out, sooo soft and caring as if Hargrove didn’t deserve fifty black eyes. “Are you alright?”

“It hurts like hell actually,” Hargrove said.

Hell must have frozen over, actually frozen over, because Hargrove just admitted to pain? He was human beneath the dick bag exterior? Someone needed to call the paper, the news channel, report —

“Might feel better if you kissed it.”

Oh, God. That was so cheesy that Steve wanted to cringe in embarrassment. Only Hargrove with his leather jacket, mullet, and general ‘don’t care’ attitude could say something so stupid and make a girl blush over it.

“Oi!” Harry spoke up suddenly and it wasn’t his soft voice, the nervous one he had sometimes. It was sharp, unhappy. His glare had deepened too and Steve was happy to see that they would definitely have a common enemy in Hargrove.

“Don’t talk to my sister like that,” Harry said.

Steve kind of stepped forward some, expecting Hargrove to have a go at Harry. Sirianna might get chick-privilege, but there wasn’t anything except Steve stopping Hargrove from grabbing Harry and trying to fight him.

Steve really didn’t want to get in trouble for fighting, his parents would definitely have something to say then. It wasn’t like he was going to stand by and let Hargrove wail on Harry either though, even if there were a bunch of stupid and excited whispers like that’s what everyone else was hoping for.

Jesus. Even Tommy was laughing and watching with bright eyes, like it was a crazy movie he couldn’t look away from.

Hargrove’s eyes narrowed at Harry while Steve tensed, ready to step in if Hargrove so much as breathed wrong. A quick flick of Hargrove’s eyes took in Steve’s position and Steve swore that his eyes lit up with some sort of delight that Steve was sure only a psycho like Hargrove would find thrilling.

“Down boy,” Hargrove said to Harry. He raised his hands mockingly. “I wasn’t damaging her delicate ears.”

“He’s not a dog,” Steve snapped, getting actually pissed off.

“You’d know, huh?”

What… what the fuck did that mean? Obviously Harry wasn’t a dog, Steve wasn’t sure why Hargrove’s snide comment made him burn inside with something close to embarrassment.

“Mind your own business,” Steve said, feeling like he was somehow coming off wrong in the argument. The bell rang for the start of school and nobody so much as moved an inch yet.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Harrington, just making conversation here.” Hargrove was the one who looked away from Steve then, taking his chance to wink at Sirianna. “You want a ride later, you know where to find me.”

The students parted like magic when Hargrove sauntered away, acting like the whole confrontation had been something he staged and planned every part of. It was infuriating, he was infuriating.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Sirianna told Harry quickly, her eyes trailing after Hargrove and - and his denim clad ass. The guy was just one big denim clad ass, Steve couldn’t imagine what had made Sirianna blush when Steve had been like ten times more polite when he had tried to ask her out.

“What was that?” Steve asked when Sirianna actually chased after Hargrove, who paused to let her catch up to him on his way inside the school. The other students must have decided that there wasn’t going to be some big fight and they scattered for first period, most of them throwing Steve looks that he didn’t want to think about just then.

“No idea.” Harry’s shoulders curled up, kind of shrinking him back down when he’d been ready to fight Hargrove over his sister. “He seems like a bit of a wanker.”

“A…?” Steve snorted and it helped ease the uncomfortable tightness in his chest and the burning feeling in his stomach. Steve’s snort turned into a chuckle and Harry ducked his head, so Steve was quick to explain.

“He’s a dick,” Steve said, grinning broadly. “Albany must be like another world, Harry. You know your sister called me a shit hole?”

“Were you being a shit hole?” Harry asked, peering at Steve like it was a real question.

Steve didn’t think so, definitely not as much of one as Hargrove had been.

“Maybe,” Steve shrugged, mostly unbothered by it. Sure, it was unfair that Sirianna never seemed to like Steve but she had no issue with Hargrove. But Harry didn’t have a problem with Steve, so who cared? He could win Sirianna over, when she got past whatever attraction to danger thing she had going for Hargrove.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to class,” Steve offered Harry.

They had to speed-walk or risk being late to first period, but that was fine by Steve. It felt like people were throwing him a lot of weird looks and he found that he wasn’t actually looking forward to a day of classes as much as he had been craving the distraction the day before.

Chapter Text

Harry knew when he woke up that it would be a bad day. His head hurt, his eyes ached when he opened them. Everything told him it would be a bad day.

Not the worst day, but a bad one.

Siri slept in the bedroom that Hop cleared out for them and Harry was told to sleep on the couch until Hop found them ‘bunk beds’. Harry and Siri didn’t sleep apart, they never had. Maybe - maybe at Hogwarts, but Hogwarts was different - safe.

“You’re fifteen, you can’t share a bed,” Hop had said. And why did that matter? What age did Harry stop needing Siri by him to sleep? Was there a birthday they missed where lines were drawn between them?

Was it embarrassing to share a bed? Was it another thing that students would laugh about and upset Siri over?

Siri didn’t complain, so neither did Harry. He didn’t think she slept much more than he did though.

Jonathan gave them a ride to school and Harry leaned his head against the window, letting the cold glass soothe his headache. Siri was as quiet as Jonathan and Harry knew she didn’t like the silence, was probably only being quiet because he couldn’t stop his headache from hurting her.

If they were twisted together so permanently, why couldn’t they share a bed? Who could Harry ask about that? Not Siri, she would feel like she had to share a bed with Harry, had to be there. She told him she wouldn’t leave, Harry could give her a bed.

If they were in a cage during the birthday when they became too old to share a bed, did it still count? If they missed four birthdays, were they still eleven and everything was okay? If they were eleven, could they sleep in the same bed so Harry could see that Siri was there and she was alive and that had always been enough to push away the nightmares?

Or was that embarrassing?

Harry wished he knew how to not embarrass Siri, how to not embarrass himself. Harry wished someone would tell him how to sleep at night when he was alone and the house creaked and Harry saw Them in every shadow.

If it was all something they taught in school then Harry had been busy dying over and over - over and over and over and over and over - again when it had appeared on a lesson plan.

Everyone else must have known the lesson. It could have been a marker in their makeup that activated when they turned a set age, it was something they were all born with that Harry didn’t have - never had.

Had it always been like that? Had Harry always stood in a crowded parking lot and been the one that others pointed and laughed at? Would it always be?

Harry probably didn’t help himself any, by being himself. It would be easier if he could be someone else - Siri or Theo or Ron Weasley.

Siri liked Ron Weasley, they were best friends. In Harry’s quiet corner where he could curl up and hide, Siri and Ron were always there laughing.

Siri walked to where a fight was happening, Harry followed.

Theo would help a friend up from the ground, Harry gave Steve his hand and he took it.

“Oi!” Harry yelled it before he thought about it, shrank inside when he could feel them all staring. It was the one boy, the one who threw Steve on the ground and had Siri bright red in the face. Harry didn’t know he had the energy to hate someone, but he thought he hated him.

He wasn’t a wizard, he wasn’t looking for answers to questions that should never have been asked. He was someone who threw people to the ground and made others laugh at Harry’s sister.

“Don’t talk to my sister like that.”

It was something about the tone, like the boy was mocking her.

Harry had patted himself on the back, thinking it had been a normal thing to say. It wasn’t embarrassing to Siri, it wasn’t strange and unnerving. The boy had a tone, Harry didn’t want to see Siri hurt.

Then the boy called Harry a dog and he wondered if Ron Weasley said that about one of his many brothers, would someone call him a dog? Would his brothers go chasing after the boy because Ron said the wrong thing and drove them away again?

“He’s a wanker,” Harry said.

Harry, the boy, he wasn’t sure which.

He knew it was going to be a bad day.

Steve walked Harry to his class and Harry sat beside Jonathan, twisted his ankle around Siri’s empty desk. She was late, she was okay. She wasn’t fine, she was okay. She was with the boy because Harry yelled at him, embarrassed Siri, and they were too old to share a bed.

The teacher asked Harry a question he didn’t hear, didn’t know anyway. Jonathan answered instead and Harry slowly let his eyes go unfocused, let them rest while he waited for Siri.

Siri didn’t show up, the entire class.

Jonathan wasn’t in Harry’s next class and Harry settled in a table at the back by himself. Harry liked the second class - it was quiet, the teacher talked for a few minutes then gave them a prompt to write about.

It was easy to write- quiet, peaceful. Harry didn’t have to think about it, he let his hand do the work while his mind went wherever it wanted.

Harry opened his notebook and looked to his right, looked to the empty seat beside him. Harry liked the second class when Siri was there, when Harry could see her, when she would whisper to him what the teacher wrote on the chalkboard in squiggled lines that he couldn’t understand.

Siri’s empty chair. Siri leaving as soon as Harry fell asleep. Siri in another room all night, never telling Harry that it was okay if he didn’t feel old enough to sleep without her.

“Mister Hammond?”

Harry didn’t have the energy to look up at the teacher, knew it was disrespectful and couldn’t care.

“Harry?” The teacher kneeled beside Harry, kept one hand on the table, until she was right in Harry’s face. “Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

Feeling alright? No. Everything ached, he was tired inside and out.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said.

“You haven’t started writing yet,” she told him quietly. Nobody was staring at them yet and Harry wished she would go away - move before Harry embarrassed her, himself. “You’re a great writer, Harry. I enjoyed your piece on Tuesday.”

On… Tuesday? Did she - were the notebooks being graded? She had read what Harry wrote down? Harry didn’t know that, he should have expected it. He didn’t have privacy, except in his head.

“I look forward to seeing your take on this prompt,” she said, pushing herself back up to her feet.

“I can’t see it,” Harry blurted, pushing the words out quickly before she was another person disappointed by Harry. Theo would tell her, he wouldn’t want his grades to be hurt because of squiggly lines and sisters who kept leaving.

“You can’t see the prompt?” she asked. “Do you need to move up?”

Harry couldn’t move up because Siri’s notebook for the class was in the back and if she came back she would be in the back and Harry couldn’t be in the front.

“Or I could read it to you,” the teacher offered instead. It was a kind offer, Harry imagined that she was laughing in her head, laughing how Harry’s eyes were too tired to read and he couldn’t do anything right.

The prompt was - a child finds a secret door that leads to a new place. That was it, the entire prompt. Harry was meant to use his imagination to create a story.

Why would the child go through the door? Was the life they had so painful that they decided anything would be better? Was there something they wanted, wanted more than anything, beyond that door? Could they take a friend, their best friend? If the child was tall and the doorway was small, were they still allowed through or were they too old?

Who made the door? Who planted it there for the child to find? If it was a trap, the child shouldn’t go through it. But children didn’t know about traps, they didn’t know that some people sat around and spent their time thinking of the best ways to hurt someone. A child didn’t do that, they spent their time thinking of the best ways to live their life, then they would have a birthday that made them old enough to be cruel, truly cruel.

Harry thought about Hogwarts, he thought about how excited he had been to go there. Hogwarts hadn’t been a trap, it had been an escape. There were things Harry only remembered through Siri’s stories, things he remembered only when he slept - but he knew Hogwarts had been a doorway, then a trap, then a place to escape when everything else was too much.

The classroom door opened and Harry knew it was Siri without looking, he knew how her footsteps sounded and could hear her breathing, knew it better than his own. She sat in her seat and Harry pulled his ankle away from her chair, was grateful when she scooted her chair beside his.

If there was a doorway and the child could take their very best friend with them, they wouldn’t. They would let their friend stay where things were okay and not risk their safety, their happiness, their health, on what could possibly be a trap.

If the child was smart, he wouldn’t go through the door. If the child was Harry, he should go.

Harry went to his third hour class and put his head on his desk, closed his eyes. Nothing in that class made sense, nothing the teacher said and none of the numbers in the textbook. It didn’t want to make sense, it wanted to stay a mystery.

X could find itself, Harry wasn’t responsible for X.

People were talking again and Siri was becoming unhappy, Harry didn’t know how to make it stop. It was different, when they were at Hogwarts. They had less classes together, more time in separate groups. Siri wasn’t always as bundled with Harry, didn’t pay for his mistakes.

When people laughed at Harry at Hogwarts, it didn’t hurt her.

Harry wanted to make an effort in the next class, he told Siri he would try harder and that didn’t mean for one day. Benny was gone, Siri would leave too. She said she wouldn’t, she said she was fine, but Harry knew she was in pain and he wanted it to stop.

Siri was the best person that Harry had ever - or would ever - know. She didn’t deserve to be in pain, she deserved her own bed and a brother who didn’t hold her hand because he forgot to breathe when he got busy thinking about if she was breathing normally or not.

They were baking in their next class. Or preparing to bake, something. They were meant to make a grocery list for their recipe, listing every ingredient they would need and how much it would cost according to the papers their teacher gave them.

“Why do we have to buy a full dozen eggs when we only need two?” Siri flipped through the pages of the paper they had and rolled her eyes. “Our budget is rubbish.”

Budget? Harry must have missed that, missed the budget. He thought he could remember Siri talking about a budget before, about money she was given to buy groceries when they lived in Surrey.

“Maybe we can share shopping lists?” The girl that Siri liked, the one with the red hair and clothes Siri wanted, dragged her chair from her table to drop it at the end of Harry and Siri’s table.

Harry didn’t know if he was hoping Steve would move as well, since he was partners with the girl, or if he wanted him to stay at his table. That was how Harry felt every time he saw Steve, saw him smile and look like someone that people would love- he never knew if he wanted him to be closer or to stay away.

Steve moved his chair over to the table Harry sat at and he was close to Harry, close enough for Harry to see a part of his hair that had been flattened when he was thrown on the ground. Harry wanted to fix it, fix something he couldn’t make worse, but he didn’t.

He wanted to, but he didn’t. He wanted to, but someone knocked on the classroom door and everyone stared at them and Harry’s name was being called.

“Harry Hammond?” The woman who taught the class took a note from the boy who delivered it and made everyone stare at Harry again. “You’re needed in the nurse's office.”

There were ooohs and someone laughed and Harry tried to not trip when he stood up.

“Har?” Siri grabbed Harry’s hand when he walked past her seat and she stared up at him, just as tired as he was but filled with concern. “Are you sick?” she asked quietly.

Sick? No.

Harry shook his head, honestly having no idea why he would be called to the nurse’s office. Harry… Harry didn’t even know where it was.

Harry’s hand shook after Siri released it and he tapped his fingers on his thigh. Where was the nurse? Who was the nurse? Was it a secret door? A trap?

Everyone was staring and it made it hard to speak up, to explain that he didn’t know where the nurse was - who the nurse was - or what he was supposed to do.

Everyone was staring.

“Ms Bowman? Harry’s still new, I can show him where the nurses office is.”

“Hm? Oh, yes, thank you, Steve,” the teacher said.

Harry should say that - Siri would say thank you, Theo would say thank you, Ron would say thank you. Harry wanted to say thank you, he wanted to refuse to go.

“Everyone thinks the nurse is smoking, but she’s nice,” Steve said, his voice flowing through Harry’s head meaninglessly while they walked. Harry tried to pay attention, tried to care if a nurse smoked or not - did that make her more or less trustworthy? Madam Pomfrey didn’t smoke, Benny did. Benny was dead and Madam Pomfrey was at Hogwarts, both out of Harry’s reach.

“Okay,” Harry said.

Steve looked over at Harry and Harry could feel his eyes on him like they weighed more than he did. It wasn’t a punch, it was a heavy and consistent weight. Harry wanted to shrink away, be invisible, and he - he wanted Steve to look at him more.

If Harry wasn’t used to being mental, it would be a concerning way to feel.

“The pep rally was canceled. I guess the school figured it would be kind of morbid since - I mean, you know.”

A pep rally sounded morbid in the first place. Harry had tried to picture it when Steve described it, he tried to picture a room full of teenagers screaming and music playing.

It made his head swim even in his imagination, he didn’t want to experience it outside of there.

Harry nodded, hoping Steve wouldn’t take it personally that he was finished talking. Everything he said made things worse and made Siri walk away. She said she would never be done, but she could change her mind.

And Harry’s head was pounding, his brain was pressing against his eyes and everything ached from a night spent not sleeping on a couch that Harry was old enough to sleep on without his sister.

“I’ll… uh… see you.” Steve opened a door for Harry and there was only one person past the door, the boy from that morning. He had his head tipped back against the wall, his eyes closed.

Harry didn’t blame Steve for not wanting to be alone with him, Harry didn’t want to either. Harry didn’t have a choice, Harry had to walk through doors even if they were traps.

There were three blue plastic chairs and the boy was in the middle one, which meant… meant…

“I don’t bite,” the boy said, not opening his eyes or lifting his head.

Harry wasn’t sure that he didn’t, people lied all the time.

The boy sighed loudly and then scooted over a seat, put himself closer to the door and Harry sat on the edge of the chair by the empty desk. The room was small, crowded.

Was Harry sick? Or did they think he was? Could it be a test? Harry didn’t get the feeling there was any magic around, none of the familiar tingle like he felt in the woods the night before. If it wasn’t Them, Harry was safe enough.

A nurse without magic and a boy with blonde curls and a mocking tone couldn’t hurt Harry, not really.

“Your sister make you come here too?” the boy asked. He wasn’t staring at Harry, Harry didn’t have to answer. Except he said ‘too’ and why would Siri make the boy go to a nurses office?

“No.” Harry’s hands tapped against his legs, the air in the room was warm, uncomfortable.

“Headache?” he asked.

Harry glanced quickly at him, long enough to see the boy wasn’t looking at him. It was a good guess, a good one. Harry touched his head, wondering how he knew that.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he said. Nobody pushed him to the ground, he was tired and had a headache. It didn’t seem like a reason for him to be in a nurses office. Harry didn’t tell anyone, no one but Siri who wouldn’t need him to say it to know.

“Probably some teacher made a report,” the boy said. “They all think they mean well, right? They don’t know shit, don’t want to know shit.”

Harry didn’t think he knew what the boy meant, but it made his stomach swoop in a sick way, like maybe Harry was sick and didn’t know it. Harry nodded and wrapped an arm around his stomach, pressing hard when he didn’t want to crawl through his own mind, he didn’t trust it sometimes.

Sometimes it was filled with stories Siri told him and Harry didn’t know if he made up the images that flashed with them or not. Some things were solid, safely stored away for only Harry to see and remember. Other things he tried to push to the edges, hoping an earthquake would happen and take them over the edge.

“Harry Hammond?”

Harry jolted at the name that wasn’t his - he wasn’t Hammond, he was Potter, he hated being called the wrong name, it was a skin that didn’t fit him right - and blinked as he took in the woman who said it.

Tall, blonde, probably the nurse.

“Your teacher wants your eyes to be checked,” she told Harry briskly. “Are you having trouble with reading?”

Harry didn’t think so. He didn’t think he couldn’t do something as simple as read. Harry could always read, always liked to read.

Harry and Theo would spend hours and hours in the library. It had been quiet, peaceful. They could have a corner table in the back and nobody bothered them. Harry read just as quickly then as Theo, never with the stabbing headache that appeared when he read for too long lately.

He could read though, he could. He could.

“I know how to read,” Harry said, keeping his words as steady as his breathing. In and out, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t stupid, not when it came to something he had always been able to do. Harry couldn’t remember a time before he could read.

“Okay, just stand up here.” The nurse backed away from the desk, pointed at a white line beside her with the toe of her shoes. Harry shuffled over beside her slowly, unsure and wary on what he was meant to do.

“Look at that poster over there, cover your right eye, read me the line of letters beneath the red line.”

Harry - what? It was across the room, hanging on the wall beside the door. Nobody could read that with both eyes, Harry couldn’t do it with one.

The boy was watching Harry, the nurse was staring. He lifted his hand and pressed against his right eye with it.

It was nothing. It was a fuzzy black line.

“I know how to read,” Harry said again.

“Can you read the line? Take your best guess.”

Harry couldn’t read the line, he could see the boy’s mouth moving, maybe silently sounding out letters. They didn’t seem to spell anything.

“I - dog?” Harry guessed wildly, knowing as soon as he said it that the line wouldn’t spell dog. It was a long line and the other lines, the ones he could see, didn’t even spell any word. “No, I’m sorry. Er…” Four lines up there were five letters and if each line added a letter…

Harry made up nine letters at random, then did it again when she told him to switch eyes.

“Blink a few times, let your vision clear up. Now what’s the furthest line down that you can read without it being fuzzy?”

“The one with the five,” Harry said. He was failing, he knew that. It didn’t matter, Harry used to be smart, professors called him bright. Harry didn’t feel bright, hated that he couldn’t read the poster.

“I see.” The nurse bent over her desk to write something down and the boy shifted, watched her. “When’s the last time you had an eye exam?” she asked Harry.

“If he won’t keep them open, spell them open.”

Harry didn’t know how old he had been so he didn’t answer. Too old to sleep in a bed with his sister, not too old to be in a cage.

“Okay then.” The nurse didn’t seem to like Harry, she shoved him a note quickly, probably wanted him to leave. “Give this to your parents, get an eye exam,” she said.

Harry took the note, stuffed it in his pocket without looking at it. Harry didn’t have parents to give a note to, he had Siri.

“Pretty sure his parents are dead, that makes it hard to pass along notes, doesn’t it?”

Harry didn’t hear what the nurse mumbled, didn’t understand why she snapped at the boy to “Get back to class and be more careful.” Harry was only relieved when he was also pointed toward the door, told to leave.

The boy lunged for the door before Harry got to it then held it open. Harry slowed a step, he didn’t much want shoved to floor or mocked. The boy didn’t do that though, he held the door then fell in step beside Harry in the corridors that Harry hadn’t memorized the layout of.

“Bell’s about to ring, you might as well go to lunch,” the boy said. He didn’t sound as mocking then, Harry didn’t think. Harry wondered why Siri had followed him that morning, wondered if he had a reason to shove Steve to the ground or if he was just angry.

Siri must like him if she made him go to the nurse, if she left Harry behind to chase after him.

“I eat in the library,” Harry said, like Siri would. She would make herself talk, carry on a conversation. If the boy mentioned lunch, Harry mentioned lunch. It wasn’t hard, just tiring.

“Yeah?” The boy lifted an eyebrow at Harry, not the one over his bruised eye. It looked like it might have hurt, might have made him angry.

The boy seemed strong, strong enough to throw Steve around. It meant the bruise was made by someone stronger, strong enough to throw him around and hit him.

It probably wasn’t Steve, Harry didn’t think he seemed like he would punch someone in the face. And the boy had thrown Steve on the ground, flattened his hair in the back. Probably embarrassed him.

“Come sit with me,” the boy said suddenly, catching Harry off-guard.

“Why?” Harry asked, probably the wrong answer. It didn’t make sense though, they weren’t friends, Harry didn’t like him. Siri did, but - but Harry didn’t have to like everything Siri did.

“Because your sister will sit with us and it’ll piss off Steve,” the boy said.

That… wasn’t a good answer, but it was an answer. Harry didn’t want to ‘piss Steve off’, but he didn’t want Siri to leave him behind again either.

Harry followed the boy through a line in a cafeteria, heard a woman handing out trays of food call him ‘Billy’. There were a lot of tables in the room, a lot of open seats. Billy had a table in the corner, he took the seat that Harry wanted - the one that would show him the door.

Billy was quiet then, stiff. It was probably Harry making him uncomfortable, Harry who wouldn’t quit looking at the bruise on his face and feeling sick when he saw it. It probably hurt, Harry thought he could remember having a bruise on his face and it hurting.

That might have been something Siri said though because Harry didn’t see himself when he was with Them, only ever flashes in reflective surfaces.

“Quit staring at me,” Billy snapped. His voice echoed in the cafeteria and Harry looked away immediately, watched the door for his sister.

There was food on the trays they both had and Harry wasn’t hungry, though he thought he should eat. He didn’t remember the last thing he ate - couldn’t remember much of anything before he laid on a couch and never got comfortable, never enough to sneak away from his thoughts to sleep.

Harry probably could have fallen asleep at the table if Siri were there and a bell didn’t suddenly ring. Harry twitched, he hated the sharp ringing bell that ended and began each class. Billy’s pinky finger jerked on the table, tapped the tabletop.

Theo did that, he didn’t like loud noises. It was loud in his house, because of his father, that was all he had said once. He liked to read in the library where it was against the rules to be noisy and Harry felt the same way. Not Siri, Siri didn’t like quiet or dark places.

“Who bruised your face?” Harry asked Billy. He wasn’t loud, he watched the rush of students running in the cafeteria and searched through them for his sister. Siri might not know Harry was in the cafeteria, Harry couldn’t remember if they walked to the library when Jonathan wasn’t there or not.

“Have you or your sister ever tried minding your own fucking business?”

Harry had always tried to mind his own business, except Siri was his business. And Siri made Billy her business and Billy had a bruise on his face and his finger twitched. He didn’t look like Theo, not of the way Harry remembered Theo being, but he made Harry think of Theo anyway.

“Right,” Harry said. The tightness in the muscles of his chest were loosened when he saw Siri walk quickly in the cafeteria, her eyes roaming until they zeroed in on Harry.

Then Siri saw who Harry was sitting with and she tilted her head to the side, quirked her lips up in a small smile.

Because Siri liked Billy and would sit there with Billy - with Harry.

Steve and Jonathan did not. They sat at a different table, as far from where Harry was as it seemed possible.

And people stared. They stared and they yelled and Harry could see where Steve and Jonathan sat and saw that they weren’t talking and if his foot wasn’t pressed against Siri’s under the table then he might have moved to that corner of the cafeteria.

It had been a bad day and Harry didn’t think it would get any better. As soon as school ended he was meant to walk through the woods, search for Jonathan’s brother. Harry wanted to find Will, he did. Jonathan said he was Harry’s friend and his brother was missing.

Harry wanted to find Will and he wanted to not be the age where he couldn’t sleep in a bed with Siri and he wanted his headache to go away.

He knew when he woke up that it was going to be a bad day.

Chapter Text

Chrissy Cunningham was Sirianna’s favorite person in the world.

Second favorite.

Maybe third, except Benny was gone and had joined the list of Sirianna’s people who she cared about and could never see again.

After a day spent being confused by boys - Harry and Billy and Jonathan and Steve and Harry - Sirianna wasn’t feeling very friendly when it was time for gym. She changed slowly in the locker room, ignored the giggles as she shed layers.

Sirianna had seen the other girls, seen the curves they had that she didn’t, seen the soft and pretty underclothes they had. It was a selfish thought to have, but Sirianna would do almost anything to have bodies and clothes like theirs.

It wasn’t fair, none of it. It wasn’t fair that Benny was gone and Sirianna couldn’t bring him back, it wasn’t fair that girls giggled at Sirianna because she wasn’t curvy and didn’t have clothes like theirs. It wasn’t fair that Sirianna could imagine a whole different life for herself and Harry and it was forever out of her reach.

Sirianna kicked one of her shoes off, maybe more aggressively than the poor shoe really deserved, and nearly hit one of the other girls with it.

“Bad day?” Chrissy asked, picking up Sirianna’s shoe and handing it to her.

Sirianna huffed and blew away a strand of her hair that wouldn’t stay in the ponytail because she didn’t have a hairbrush at Chief Hopper’s house because Benny was gone and Sirianna couldn’t go back to his house.

“Sorry, stupid question,” Chrissy said with a nervous sounding laugh. She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and she was so pretty that Sirianna wanted to cry.

Sirianna’s mum was pretty, beautiful really. Sirianna had seen her in the Mirror of Erised, she had seen photos of her. Sirianna had her father’s hair, but she had always thought she looked like her mum. Sirianna assumed that she would be as beautiful as Lily Potter when she was older, beautiful enough to have boys tripping over themselves to impress her and girls asking her what her secrets were.

Instead, Sirianna had hair that wasn’t brushed, no curves, and she wouldn’t know what to do with makeup even if she owned any. Boys didn’t trip over themselves for her, girls didn’t like her. And none of it should matter because Benny was gone and she was free.

“Oh, are you - I… here.” Chrissy had a purse on the locker room bench and she dug in it to offer Sirianna a tissue. “My grandma died when I was in fifth grade and it was like the saddest thing to ever happen to me,” she said as she sat beside Sirianna. “I lit a candle at church for Benny, I am sorry he’s gone.”

“I’m not even crying about Benny!” Sirianna huffed. The other girls had left for class and Sirianna felt so terribly stupid. Stupid and selfish and sad. And part of it was for Benny, it was. Sirianna missed him, she missed the too brief time they had together.

“I am never going to fit in here, I don’t have a stupid hairbrush. I look - I look like a freak! You know someone called me Harry today, they actually confused me with my brother?” Sirianna shouldn’t be upset about that, they were nearly identical. Except Sirianna was a girl and she didn’t feel like a girl.

“I don’t have boobs or makeup or a - a family.” Sirianna didn’t have a mum she could talk to or a Benny who would give her advice. She had a brother who spoke more to his friends than he did Sirianna and that was it.

It was all making her feel lonely - alone and miserable.

“You are so not a freak,” Chrissy said. “I think you’re super pretty. I mean, you have to brush your hair, because it’ll get ratty if you don’t, but ugh, I would die to have hair as long as yours! Can I?” Chrissy reached up for Sirianna’s hair and her fingers paused there, the sparkly painted nails just above Sirianna’s head.

“Won’t we get in trouble for skipping?” Sirianna asked, stalling on answering Chrissy.

“Nope! I’ll just tell them we have cramps,” Chrissy said without a care in the world.

“I… okay,” Sirianna said, blushing. She didn’t have cramps and her hair wasn’t in great condition, she had taken a shower after walking the woods the night before. Chief Hopper only owned a bar of soap, which was hard to wash her hair with. Then it became all tangled and Sirianna only had her fingers to detangle it.

“Yay!” Chrissy jumped off the bench and snatched her bag back out of her locker and immediately dumped it on the bench. Sirianna looked at the contents and had never seen so much makeup, so many cosmetics and hair styling bottles and tools before.

And scrunchies. Wow. Chrissy owned a lot of scrunchies.

“It’s totally going to be worth missing gym for this,” Chrissy said. She grabbed a piece of gum to pop in her mouth before moving to stand behind Sirianna. “I’ve been dying to see what I could do with your hair. I think I’m going to be a hair stylist when I graduate. Wouldn’t that be fun? Spending all day making women beautiful?”

Sirianna thought it might, though Chrissy would probably need to work on being gentle. Sirianna swore she felt hair rip from her scalp when Chrissy took out the scrunchie she had used.

“Sorry, it’s - hm. Maybe you should get it wet first? Come on, let’s get it wet! Oh, you’re going to love it.” Chrissy jumped around the bench and grabbed Sirianna’s hands in hers, squeezing them with the friendliest smile. “Do you trust me? Because I have the best idea.”

Did Sirianna trust Chrissy? With… what? Her hair?

“Sure,” Sirianna said, hoping fiercely that she wasn’t making a mistake. Chrissy had been kind, friendly. She didn’t laugh at Sirianna or Harry, she didn’t make any cruel jokes. She even sat with her in class, partnered together in gym.

And honestly, Sirianna didn’t think that she could get any more depressed over the state of herself. It was so bad that even seeing herself in a mirror made her want to break the mirror.

Chrissy didn’t give Sirianna time to look in a mirror or to question herself. She waved her hand, excitedly telling Sirianna to - to take her top off so it wouldn’t get wet while Chrissy sprayed her hair.

“Oh! Is that weird? Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Chrissy stole someone’s towel from the shower area and draped it around Sirianna’s shoulders when Sirianna hesitated at taking her top off. “I’m used to the girls on my team, I swear they’re always walking around naked after practice. I think I’m like immune to it now? Whatever. Okay, lean back.”

Sirianna was pushed in a chair and then caught up in Chrissy. Chrissy had her head tipped back and she started spraying her hair down with warm water, adding some nice smelling soap, and then - then she was scrubbing Sirianna’s hair and she didn’t expect to like it but she did.

Sirianna actually closed her eyes while Chrissy scratched her scalp and listened to the gossip that Chrissy shared. Most of it she didn’t understand, the girls on the cheerleading team seemed to be Chrissy’s best friends, but she knew some of the people.

“So Nancy was upset because Steve never called her and she thought they were going to go out again but Lisa told her that Steve is a skank, and he’s totally not, now I think Nancy’s upset. Plus the boy that’s missing? Jonathan’s little brother? He’s best friends with Nancy’s little brother and I think it’s probably hard at her house. My mom said she’s going to take them a casserole, which - like - what? Doesn’t Jonathan’s family need a casserole?”

Sirianna did some humming and felt as quiet as Harry while Chrissy rinsed her hair, added more soap, massaged it on her scalp.

“Tammy was being a total cunt about the pep rally being canceled. She was really acting like she’s the captain who worked so hard on the routine? When it was me? But she told Lisa who told Katie who told Ashley who told me that she’s threatening to quit the squad. And really, goodbye. She always has the worst attitude, it brings the whole team down.”

“You’re the captain of the cheerleading team?” Sirianna asked, terribly impressed by that. She peeked an eye open and saw Chrissy raised the shower sprayer again so she closed her eyes so the water didn’t get in them.

“Yeah, it’s my first year and it’s a big deal because my mom was the captain when she was on the team and so like if I do badly then I’m letting her down and if I do good it’s because I’m her daughter.”

“Oh.” Sirianna could understand that, to an extent. She was told she was an excellent flier - like her father, like her brother. She was told she was good at transfiguration - like her father.

“It’s cool though, I love most of the girls on the team.” Chrissy rinsed Sirianna’s hair and continued to chatter away comfortingly. “And it feels really romantic to cheer at Jason’s games, it’s like I’m there just for him and he plays harder for me. Sometimes he’ll blow me a kiss or something and I know the guys tease him, but don’t you think that’s sweet?”

Yeah, Sirianna did.

Chrissy wrapped another towel around Sirianna’s hair and had her sit up then decided that the lighting would be better by the window and she took her bag of girlie things while Sirianna moved two chairs for them to use.

“So you’re going to think about freaking out, but don’t…” Chrissy stuck a cigarette between her lips and lit it before pulling a pair of silver scissors out from behind her back. Sirianna looked at the scissors, looked at Chrissy. The scissors. Chrissy.

“I’ve…” Sirianna couldn’t explain why the sight of scissors made her want to bolt, but they did. “I’ve never cut my hair,” she said. It had been cut, not by Sirianna’s choice. It was probably magic that made it grow back out so quickly and fully, some sort of Potter family magic that made up for the young deaths and tragic lives.

“Then it’s totally time to do it,” Chrissy said. She pulled smoke in, blew it toward the window, and offered Sirianna the cigarette. “I promise, if it looks like trash then you can cut my ponytail off.”

Sirianna didn’t know if she could do that, Chrissy had the prettiest red hair. It was curled and her bangs always looked so great with her eyes.

“Okay,” Sirianna agreed, unreasonably scared of a teenage girl with a pair of scissors. “If you ruin my hair, I’ll cut yours.”

It would hurt them both, Sirianna was sure.

“Okay, so! You should dish.” Chrissy took no time at all in brushing out Sirianna’s hair while they swapped a cigarette back and forth. When the scissors moved from the sink to Chrissy’s hand, Sirianna clutched the armrests of her chair tightly.

“What is going on with you and Billy Hargrove?” Chrissy asked. “No offense, but he’s an ass. I mean, he’s totally hot, but he’s an ass. And Steve couldn’t stop looking at you two like Billy stole you away, it was almost funny really.”

Billy did seem like he could be an arse. And he was terribly hot… an unfair level of perfectly fit. But he’d been… surprisingly kind to Harry? Sirianna had been surprised to see them sitting together, she was worried Billy was going to be cruel to Harry as he had been to Steve, but he wasn’t.

There were a lot of comments that made Sirianna blush from head to toe and scowl, nothing rude to Harry though.

“Nothing’s going on,” Sirianna said truthfully. “We talked the other day when we met at the principal’s office, then I asked him about getting hurt today.”

And she told him that he should go to the nurses office because he was hurt and muggles had medicine to make pains go away. Sirianna hadn’t expected him to listen, though he swore he did and Harry had nodded in agreement.

“You and Harry sat with him at lunch,” Chrissy said. She laughed - which seemed to be a bad time to do it as Sirianna could see a snip of her black hair landing on the bathroom floor. “Billy’s never sat with anyone at lunch, he doesn’t even show up for it most of the time.”

“Oh.” Sirianna wanted to hear more about Billy, but she was also becoming concerned with her hair that Chrissy was cutting. “I think he’s lonely,” she said.

“Or he thinks you’re cute.”

Sirianna nearly snorted, but she didn’t want to move her head and risk having a horrible haircut.

“I’m not sure that’s it,” Sirianna said evenly, keeping her head perfectly still. “But - um… thanks.”

“Whatever you saaaaay,” Chrissy sang brightly. “We’ll see after gym. I’m really good at picking up on things like that. You’ll walk out, like a total movie star, and I’ll watch Billy. You shouldn’t look at him, don’t let him think you’re into him.”

“If I don’t look at him, he’ll think I don’t like him, and that’s good?” Sirianna asked. That didn’t make any sense.

“Trust me,” Chrissy said again. “I was going to suggest that if Billy wasn’t an ass then you should flirt with Steve or Jonathan, see if you can make him jealous. Because if so then he’s like serious, if not then he probably just wants to get laid.”

Sirianna had never wished so badly that she had a notebook with her. Chrissy was beautiful, her boyfriend was handsome, and Sirianna wanted to remember all of her advice.

Even if the idea of Sirianna flirting with a boy was terrifying and filled her body with a nervous kind of buzzing.

“Oh this is soo Farrah Fawcett.” Chrissy spent forever on Sirianna’s hair, then she wouldn’t let Sirianna see it before she decided to do her makeup as well. Sirianna had her eyes poked a few times, but she was excited to see herself with makeup.

“Wait! Do not move, Sirianna!” Chrissy put her hands on Sirianna’s shoulders to hold her in place and it didn’t bother her, Chrissy had already poked all over her face, messed with her hair. Chrissy was…

Well, if Sirianna didn’t look like a freak then Chrissy would probably be the greatest person Sirianna knew.

“Okay,” Sirianna promised, breathless with excitement. There was a mirror behind the sinks and if Sirianna just stood up, she could see herself in it.

Would she look older? Mature? Would she be pretty? Even - even a little bit?

Would she look like her mum?

“Hold this.” Chrissy ran back in the room, she probably didn’t trust Sirianna to hold out very long. Chrissy was beaming while she thrust a handful of fabric at Sirianna before she began stripping her black sweater and pleated skirt off.

Sirianna quickly looked away, trying to give Chrissy privacy since it seemed as if they were friends, and Chrissy explained quickly.

“You can’t have a total makeover then go show it off in those clothes,” she said. She grabbed the bundle of white clothes she gave Sirianna from her hands and replaced them with the clothes she pulled off herself. “I’ve got to cheer tonight and my mom will never notice an outfit missing from my closet. Oh! Sirianna! You should come over this weekend! You’re a little bit shorter than me and my mom keeps like everything! I bet I’ve got so many outfits you could take!”

“What? No, I couldn’t.” Sirianna tried to push the clothes back to Chrissy, but Chrissy refused to take them. It was… terribly exciting, imagining herself in cute clothes, dressed like one of the other girls. But Chrissy had done enough… and Sirianna couldn’t go to someone’s house without Harry.

“Too bad.” Chrissy pushed the clothes right back at her even while she tugged on her cute cheerleading uniform. “Come on, do it for me! I want to see if I’m right about Billy and Steve.”

Sirianna sighed, but she couldn’t help smile a little bit. Chrissy was crazy, crazy with her ideas that Billy and Steve found her cute… it - it would be exciting, Sirianna couldn’t deny that even to herself.

It was crazy talk though and if putting on a different outfit would prove it, make Chrissy tell her that she was wrong, Sirianna was a freak… better to get it over with.

And a part of Sirianna desperately wanted her to be right. She wanted to be pretty and do things for fun. She didn’t want Benny to be gone and Harry to be silent.

“Okay, I’ll try it. Thank you.” Sirianna stepped backward in a stall so she could peel off the clothes she wore and replace them with Chrissy’s. She tucked the sweater in like Chrissy did and looked down at herself, somehow feeling different already.

They were the same clothes that a lot of the girls wore, the pretty sweater and skirt like Sirianna had wore at Hogwarts… they - it shouldn’t have, but just changing into something normal made Sirianna feel some of the weight on her chest lighten.

“Okay! Let’s see!!” Chrissy backed up beside the mirror and was positively beaming when Sirianna walked out of the stall. She even clapped, which made Sirianna laugh when she didn’t mean to.

“Oh, everyone is going to die,” Chrissy swore. “Are you ready?”

No. Sirianna was terrified.

What if Chrissy spent all that time, did all that work, and it didn’t matter? What if Sirianna wasn’t ugly because she didn’t know how to do her hair right, didn’t know how to apply makeup, but because she was just ugly?

It shouldn’t matter, but Sirianna knew it would.

Sirianna held her breath and resisted the urge to squish her eyes shut when she slowly stepped up to the mirror.

For a long moment, Sirianna didn’t recognize herself. Her wild black curls, always so difficult to even brush, had been thinned out, layered, fluffed out in a hairstyle Sirianna had seen other girls wear. The round eyes blinked when Sirianna blinked and seemed bigger, brighter, with the green eyeshadow and black makeup that circled them.

For the first time since she was a little girl playing dress-up with Lavender Brown, Sirianna looked in the mirror and thought the girl that looked back was - was pretty.

Chrissy smiled when Sirianna did.

“Well? Do you feel completely gorgeous now?” she asked.

Sirianna tilted her head, studied herself from different angles, and nodded.

“I feel - I - I look like my mum,” Sirianna said. She lifted her hand to touch her reflection and she couldn’t cry, not when Chrissy put so much work into her makeup, but she wanted to.

Not sad tears, not tears of grief or pain, but for a small spark of happiness that she felt. She looked like Lily Potter, she looked pretty.

It was stupid, it was, but… it wasn’t at the same time.

Chrissy was probably more excited than Sirianna was when they went outside to wait behind the gym for class to end. Chrissy wanted to smoke and she gave Sirianna her own cigarette with a warning to not cry.

“When I feel like crying, I smoke,” she said, sounding smart even if Sirianna thought it might have been flawed logic. It worked though, Sirianna had felt her eyes prickling since she saw herself in the mirror and instead they sort of burned while she smoked again.

The bell rang and Sirianna jumped, just as terrified and excited as she had been startled. Chrissy tossed her cigarette quickly so she could fluff Sirianna’s hair, fussing over it until they were both laughing.

“Perfect,” she said. “Okay, go stand over by Jonathan’s car so the boys all see you. We’ll totally compare notes tomorrow when you come over.”

Sirianna didn’t remember agreeing to go to Chrissy’s house, but she let Chrissy give her a small push to get her out in the lot. It was terrifying, dizzying, thrilling to stand in the lot and know that any minute the back doors would open and who would laugh? Who would laugh after all the work Chrissy did?

Chrissy was a witch, she had to be. It was magic, the way that Sirianna felt. She felt taller, more mature, like a whole different person.

Beneath the makeup and the new hair was still too many problems, but Sirianna felt like she was someone who could tackle them all.

Sirianna could slay dragons, defeat evil, flirt with fit boys with stormy blue eyes and blonde curls.

The back doors of the school opened and Chrissy shot her a thumbs up. Sirianna shouldn’t have been nervous, she looked much better than she had on the first day of school when everyone stared.

Her heart still raced and there was a buzzing filling her veins, her ears. Was she swallowing weird? She reached up to touch her hair, made herself drop her hands.

What did she do with her hands?

Sirianna ended up tucking them behind her back, held tightly while she tried to watch all the students who walked past without looking like she was watching them. Were they looking at her twice because she was doing something wrong? Did Carol’s face twist up because she just hated Sirianna or some other reason?

Jonathan walked out of the gym briskly, his hands pushed deep in his jean pockets and his head ducked. Sirianna was right beside his car, he couldn’t miss her. He didn’t say anything at all until Nancy passed Sirianna and said that she loved her hair, then he looked up.

“Oh. Hey.” Jonathan’s gaze lingered for a second on Sirianna’s hair, but… but he didn’t look ready to trip over himself when he nodded at her. “You ready?”

“Yes,” Sirianna said. There were more important things happening than her brand new look. Jonathan’s brother was important, finding out who killed Benny was important. But Harry wasn’t even outside yet and they couldn’t leave without him.

Jonathan still slid in the driver’s seat of his car and Sirianna straightened up again when she saw her brother walking out of the gym with Steve. Steve would definitely say something, Sirianna hoped. He had to notice. He was the one who said she had pretty eyes and he was… he was kind of nice, or he had been since Benny died anyway.

Harry noticed Sirianna first and he frowned at her before nodding at whatever Steve was telling him that involved a lot of hand movements. Sirianna was disappointed, but she didn’t want her brother to think she was pretty, she wanted real boys to think so.

“You could come over this weekend, oh! What about tonight? My parents aren’t home? You could ride home with me after we get done searching the woods? We could practice?” Steve stopped when Harry did in front of Sirianna and he threw her a brief smile, his attention focused on Harry.

Which… wasn’t exactly new, but managed to sting still.

“There’s a net set up in the garage - woah, wait!” Steve turned back to Sirianna and she lit up when his eyes widened as he took her in. “Hey, you look great,” he said. “New clothes?”

“They’re Chrissy’s,” Sirianna said in a rush, jumping up and down on the inside that someone finally noticed. She beamed and couldn’t stop herself from ruffling the side of her hair, making sure that he saw it was new too.

“Nice.” Steve was still smiling and then he dismissed Sirianna rather abruptly in favor of turning back to Harry and trying to convince him to go to his house.

Chrissy was watching closely from behind the gym. Sirianna could see her looking between Sirianna and her brother and Steve. Sirianna should have warned her that it wasn’t exactly a blank test if Harry was there, he was always more interesting even when he said nothing at all.

Sirianna wanted to be like that, to be someone that people were drawn to. She thought - maybe - with the right clothes and makeup like everyone else had…

There was a whistle that caught everyone’s attention, made everyone turn in time to see Billy step in the lot. He wasn’t looking at Harry, he was looking directly at Sirianna and he had whistled.

Sirianna swore she could hear Chrissy giggle.

“Damn, kitten.” Billy pushed past Steve, stepping right up in front of Sirianna until she had to tilt her head up some to see the lazy grin on his face, the spark in his eyes.

Billy was an arse, Chrissy had said so and Sirianna had seen it. But he had dreamy eyes that seemed to see her - actually see her, Sirianna - and better than that? He looked as if he liked what he saw.

“Got all dolled up, for me? You shouldn’t have,” Billy said, which was definitely flirting, Sirianna was sure of it. “I thought you said you were busy tonight.”

“I am,” Sirianna said, too proud of herself for not stuttering. She had told Billy as much when he asked her to go for a drive with him after school, Jonathan was her friend and his brother was missing. “I have important plans.”

“Change them,” Billy said. He grinned and it was so cocky and confident. “You won’t regret it.”

Sirianna almost did when he winked - when he winked at her.

“She’s got plans, man, back off,” Steve interjected, saving Sirianna from saying something she wouldn’t have meant.

“I didn’t hear her say no,” Billy said, still looking at Sirianna with something like a challenge in his eyes. “Say no and I’ll walk away,” he said.

Sirianna didn’t want to say no, but Will was missing. Sirianna liked challenges, she liked new things - exciting things. And Billy was exciting, intimidating, very handsome.

“I can’t,” she said, genuinely apologetic. She wanted to ride in Billy’s car, she wanted to see what it was like to be alone with a boy who was not her brother. “We have to find Will, he’s just a boy and he’s missing.”

“Yeah?” Billy shrugged and Sirianna didn’t want him to walk away, she wanted him to understand that she had to help find Jonathan’s little brother.

“If I help you find the kid, you’ll be out of excuses,” he said. He was definitely challenging Sirianna then. It might not be real flirting, it might be the makeup and the hair and Chrissy’s clothes that made Sirianna wish it were.

But a small voice in the back of her head said that maybe it was real flirting, maybe Chrissy was right.

“Hey! Nobody invited you —”

“Brilliant,” Sirianna breathed. She leaned past Billy to find Harry, to make sure that he was okay with it. Harry didn’t seem to like Billy that morning, though he’d been fine during lunch. “Har? Do you mind?”

Harry had been quiet all day around Sirianna. She thought he was tired, she should have let him sleep in the bedroom and taken the couch. Harry didn’t like to sleep with doorways unblocked and there were too many of them in Chief Hopper’s house for him to have blocked.

It had been selfish of her, she didn’t even think about it until she saw how tired Harry looked. When they returned, Sirianna would sleep on the couch and she would promise Harry that nobody would get to him while he slept.

Harry shook his head, though there was something sort of sad about it. Something that tugged at Sirianna’s chest and nearly made her take it back - she didn’t want Harry to be upset. She only ever wanted him to be happy.

“Awesome,” Steve said, scowling at Billy and shuffling half a step closer to Harry. “I’m sure the kid is going to hear your voice and run further away.”

“Clever,” Billy said dryly. “You think of that one on your own or pay someone to do it for you?”

“You drive a freaking Camaro, Hargrove!”

“Yeah, I do.” Billy’s attention was back on Sirianna, blocking her view of Harry. “Ride with me, we’ll catch up to them. I gotta drop my stepsister off at home first.”

It might have been a bad idea, or maybe the best idea in the world. But Harry didn’t say anything to stop Sirianna and she was alive and pretty and free.

“Okay.”

Alive, pretty, free, and could finally see if the inside of Billy’s car was everything he claimed it was.

Chapter Text

Harry thought that they really might find Will Byers in the woods. He had a strong feeling about it, a feeling that there was someone in the woods - someone who shouldn't be there.

Not one of Them, it didn't feel like that. It felt different, friendlier.

Everyone had divided up in the woods, which Harry hadn't been thrilled about. It wasn't dark when they met at the park where Jonathan wanted to enter the woods, but Harry knew it would be once they were surrounded by trees.

It was probably embarrassing, Harry was too old for it, but he didn't like the dark, didn't like the idea of wandering in the dark woods without Siri with him. Anything could happen in the dark, anything could happen if they weren't together.

"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Billy had suggested. There were five of them… Harry didn't want to split up.

"Figures," Steve scoffed, kicking a rock and sending it sailing across the lot.

"What's that mean, Harrington?" Billy asked.

"You're not here to help find Will! You're just here to be a dick!"

"No, no, you're right. I forgot that you're here out of the goodness of your soft little heart."

"How about everyone shuts the hell up and we just look for my brother?" Jonathan yelled over the two that were arguing.

Billy said they should split up and Harry already knew what was going to happen. Siri would want to go with Billy and —

"Unless you'd rather be a third-wheel?"

Harry had stopped listening after Jonathan yelled until someone pushed his shoulder. Nudged it. Steve had nudged Harry's shoulder with his and looked at him like Harry was meant to say something.

"Okay," Harry said. It was an easy answer, as much of a lie as Siri's ‘fine' was.

It made Steve grin and Harry tried it out briefly, then Siri left with Billy and Jonathan was already in the woods and Harry didn't warn any of them that there was definitely someone - something - in the woods.

The dark woods.

Just as Harry had suspected, it seemed as if the large trees blocked out the light almost immediately. Steve steered them to the left and Harry shook his head, trusting his own magic than he did Steve.

"This way," Harry said, pointing directly ahead of them. The last time he had been in the woods he accidentally ended up in Steve's back lawn, but he had felt something. It wasn't Will Byers, but it had been something.

Steve didn't seem to have a problem with Harry taking the lead even though Harry's direction took them deeper in the woods until all they could hear were each others footsteps.

Harry felt hot, he was burning with a deep want to hide from the dark, hide from Siri's absence. She rode in Billy's car, she wanted to walk with Billy. Harry wanted to see her, grab her hand, keep his eye on her.

All he had was magic, magic he spread out in the woods. It flowed so easily, a drop of water in an ocean, until he could feel everyone in the woods.

There were the warm sparks that were Steve, Billy, and Jonathan. A spark that warmed the corner of Harry's chest where Siri stayed. Then another spark - sharper, hotter. It felt like magic, that was all he was sure of.

They weren't sharp and hot, they were cold, like ice driving itself in Harry's throat. The person - thing? - in the woods behind Steve's house had been entirely different. Harry didn't have a good comparison for it, he thought it was magic, but not human.

A creature of some sort? Something else created in the labs where Harry had been? He didn't know.

Harry knew he had to pay attention, be alert. It didn't matter if it was dark, there was someone in the woods. It didn't matter if Siri was with Billy and Harry thought everything was falling apart too quickly to save.

Everything was slipping away and Harry wanted to go with it, couldn't.

"You play basketball," Harry said to Steve, trying to stay alert, awake, present. It wasn't the time to slip away, not yet. Not in the dark woods when Harry could sense the thrum of someone who didn't belong.

Steve talked about basketball a lot, sometimes Harry listened. Harry would listen if he would talk then, give Harry some noise to force him away from the comfort of his own mind.

"I - yeah, I play," Steve said, staring at Harry again. "I don't think it's going to help us find clues or Will?"

Harry thought it might. Harry was more useful awake, more dangerous, and he needed to stay alert. He needed to keep following the steady thrum.

Then he could leave the woods, never enter them again.

"What position do you play?" Harry asked, thinking of quidditch. Harry didn't know if basketball would be the same at all, but it looked similar.

Two teams, two hoops to put a ball through. There was a timer for the game, no broomsticks. It seemed safer, less interesting.

Steve was good at it, Harry thought. He played during gym with the others on the basketball team while Harry, Jonathan, and a few others had to walk laps around the gym. It was boring, easy, and Harry had seen Steve with the basketball.

He was good at it, maybe not better than Billy, Harry couldn't be sure. Siri was a great seeker, Harry was a better flier. Maybe Billy was a great basketball thrower and Steve was a better basketball bouncer.

Dribbler?

Basketball didn't make as much sense as quidditch.

"I'm a point guard," Steve said. There was something in his voice when he talked about basketball, an energy that matched his always moving hands. "I'll be captain next year too, Coach already promised it to me. Hargrove keeps going on about being captain, but the guy has been suspended twice and it's only November…"

Harry had to listen, really listen, to Steve talk about the different positions on a basketball team while they walked. It still didn't make any sense to Harry, but it was enough to use Steve's voice like he would have used Siri's hand if he wasn't slowly losing his sister again.

It hadn't hurt so much at Hogwarts, Harry didn't appreciate Siri as much then. Harry always loved her, she was his forever best friend, but Theo had been his best friend too and Siri had her own friends and things to do.

Harry was alone in Hawkins, watching from a distance he couldn't cross as Siri began to be Siri again and everyone loved her. People liked Siri, she was funny and kind and knew what to say to make people like her.

Harry wanted Siri to be happy again, to smile and laugh and have a sparkle in her eyes. It - Harry wished they were more alike. That was all.

"We should have brought a flashlight, I can't see a damn thing," Steve said when they were close - so close - to the thing Harry could feel.

Harry thought about the note in his pocket, the way his feet kept catching roots and sticks on the ground.

"Me either," he agreed. Harry could sense something, something close, but it was dark and Harry could barely see Steve right beside him. And Steve was right beside Harry.

Right beside him.

"Are we friends?" Harry asked, forcing himself to take another step toward the thrumming. He was so close to whatever he was searching for… He hoped it was Will, he imagined that Will was scared and alone and wanted his brother. He didn't think it was though, he had met Will before, he didn't cause a tingle that felt like magic and danger rolled together.

Harry was dangerous, the person he searched for was dangerous, powerful.

"I… yeah, I think so." Steve bumped his shoulder against Harry's again - he did that, bumped Harry. It wasn't awful, it was better in the daylight when Harry saw it coming. Even when he didn't, it wasn't awful.

"Why?" Steve asked. "Or was that like your way of saying we aren't?"

"If I wanted to say we aren't friends, I would say it," Harry said instead of trying to explain the unexplainable. It was because he had been thinking of Theo a lot through the day, probably. Harry had been thinking of Theo and Siri was making friends and Harry - sometimes it was lonely, inside his head.

Sometimes Harry wanted to be a part of something else, not be Harry. That was all.

But even Harry knew better than to say that. So it was nice of Steve to say they were friends.

"Right, okay, cool." Steve ran his hand through his hair and when he dropped it his hand brushed Harry's. It wasn't awful, for the second it lasted.

It was dark though.

Harry needed a light, something. He could feel it, he was in the right place. Harry was exactly where he needed to be, but he couldn't see.

"Do you know how to start a fire?" Harry asked Steve.

"Yeah! I can do that!" Steve bounced on his feet and laughed, a strange and short laugh. "Fire. Yes! I'm on it!"

Harry squinted to watch Steve drop down and began searching around on the ground for whatever muggles used to start fires. As soon as Steve turned around, Harry bent down and grabbed a thick branch, one that wouldn't burn out too quickly.

It was easy to catch the end on fire, Harry hardly had to think of what he wanted to happen before the flame flared up and shed a glowing light around him. Finally able to see, Harry waved the torch, scanning the area closely for…

"How did you do that?!" Steve cried. He jumped to his feet and held up a rock and a stick in his hands. "I didn't even get a spark yet!"

"Er… lucky try," Harry said, distracted. "You've got a…" Harry held the torch out and slowly reached out to take a crisp leaf from Steve's hair.

And there - just past Steve, behind a tree - Harry saw something move.

Someone.

Something.

No, definitely someone.

"Don't move," Harry breathed. It was a warning, needless really since Harry walked past Steve and made sure he couldn't follow. It wasn't severe, Harry didn't want to hurt him, it was only a mild compulsion so Steve wouldn't want to follow him.

Siri wasn't in pain, she was okay. Jonathan was still in the woods somewhere, Billy too.

It was the quick thrum of sparks in Harry's water that didn't belong.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Harry said quietly, waiting to see if the shadow behind the tree would shift again. "Will?"

The shadow shifted, Harry took another soft step.

"Hey, Harry? You think we should head back? Find the others?" Steve said, his voice too loud and shrinking the shadow.

"You're okay," Harry whispered, stepping up to the tree. "I won't hurt you."

Harry's promise was lost to the sudden wind that blew through the woods, cold and wild. It nearly knocked Harry to the ground as it seemed to center on the torch, extinguishing the only real light in the woods.

Not before the shadow stepped out from behind the tree and Harry saw it - them - for the first time.

They were not Will Byers. They were not Them.

They were powerful, dangerous.

Harry wasn't scared.

The ride back to town was a blur of people talking, music playing.

"Bubby?" Siri tried to take Harry's hand and he let her, if only because she seemed sad. "Are you okay?"

Yes.

No.

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yesnoyesnoyesno.

Harry nodded and when he blinked - he was in a car.

When he blinked again - Siri was opening the door.

Blink - Hop's house.

"You need to eat," Siri said, pulling Harry inside the house by his hand and waving goodbye at someone behind him. Harry didn't turn and look, didn't care. It wasn't dark and Siri was there and Harry couldn't stay, couldn't.

Harry opened his mouth - he needed to tell Siri. He had to. It was Siri.

He closed his mouth. Hop was inside the house, hanging a belt up by the door.

There was static in Harry's ear, wind rushing and extinguishing everything.

Hop pointed. Siri dragged.

Harry blinked and there was a sandwich and he was choking on everything he wanted to tell Siri. She was right there, looking at him with big eyes and he needed to tell her.

"You're tired," Siri said, holding a sandwich up like Harry was a small child. "Eat and then you can sleep, okay? You can sleep in the bed."

Harry's stomach flipped inside out and he needed to tell her because it was Siri, his Siri, and he should tell her.

"I'll sleep on the couch and nothing is going to get you, okay?" Siri said, a promise - a promise - that Harry didn't want. "I swear."

Everything was slipping away and Harry needed to go too.

He nodded and pulled away - blinked and Siri was closing the bedroom door behind him, she loved him, get some sleep, everything was okay.

Harry hated to do it, but he had to leave.

The window was easy to open, easy to climb out of. Harry's feet touched the ground and he was silent, fast enough. He ran through town, trusting himself to find that place in the woods and the person that wasn't Will and needed Harry anyway.

Harry was winded, sweating, and more awake than ever before when he reached the woods and began retracing his steps. There wasn't a path, only a tugging in Harry's chest to keep going. There was someone and they were waiting for him, they must have known he was going to return.

It seemed like they were waiting for him, as curious about Harry as Harry was about them.

Harry didn't have to go as far in the woods as he did earlier and the darkness didn't press as heavily on him, not with his mind focused on who he was going to find.

"Hello?" Harry called out when he knew he was in the right spot. He sat down slowly, he wasn't dangerous. "My name is Harry. I'm not going to hurt you."

There were too many shadows around Harry so he crossed his legs and waited. Nobody was waiting for him - Siri was sleeping, she went to sleep on the couch - and Harry didn't have anywhere to be.

In the whole world, he didn't have anywhere to be.

There was a crunch of a leaf on the ground, the brush of cool wind crossed Harry's face.

They weren't one of Them. They walked out from behind the tree and Harry saw their guarded steps, the curl of their shoulder, half-dunked head. They were young, young enough that Harry was in pain.

"That one cannot be replaced!" One of Them pointed at Harry while he screamed at the one who stood above Harry. Harry's chest was caving in, he couldn't breathe. He wanted his sister, wanted his Siri.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE OTHER ONES! UNTIL OPERATION ECHO IS COMPLETED, YOU WILL USE ANOTHER SUBJECT!"

Harry was taken back to his cage - his cell - his sister. He had to be levitated, he couldn't walk. Everything felt sleepy in his body and Harry might have been dreaming when his head lolled in the air and he saw another child.

It wasn't Siri, Harry was sure of it. They were smaller than Siri, young, with shorter hair. They turned their head for a second and Harry saw green eyes that cut him to the core.

Not Siri, it wasn't. It was a boy in the baggy grey clothes that Harry and Siri wore, a boy that Harry saw enter the experimentation room and then never saw again.

"Hello," Harry said again, looking up at the… girl… maybe. Harry couldn't be sure, they had awfully short hair, but there was something in the curve of their neck and their eyes that made Harry think girl. "I'm going to make a fire, but it won't hurt you. I can't see and I don't like the dark."

The girl said nothing, Harry didn't mind. He scooped up some nearby sticks and leaves into a pile in front of himself, held his hands over it, and lit it on fire.

The girl made a strangled sound and Harry waited to see if she would run or not. Harry hoped she wouldn't, she didn't.

"Do you know your name?" Harry asked her. With the fire glowing to shine light on her, Harry was even more sure that she was a girl. A young girl, skinny and scared.

She looked so scared.

The girl shook her head then started to pull up the left sleeve of her oversized grey sweater. Harry knew, he knew, what he would see when she reached her elbow. Maybe the girl knew when she twisted her arm, flashed the tiny tattoo at Harry that he would understand.

"Eleven?" Harry asked, squinting at her arm. She nodded and Harry pulled his sleeve up until he could turn it, showing her that he wasn't one of Them. "I'm Seven."

The girl looked at Harry's arm for a very long time, he didn't mind. Harry didn't want people to see the tattoo, it made him sick and dizzy to look at, but the girl could see it.

"Seven," she said. She had a soft voice, Harry didn't think she used it much. She probably liked to stay quiet, she probably stayed quiet so long that it was hard to speak. She smiled and Harry wondered if she felt a need to smile in her brain or if it was only a stretching of facial muscles like an exercise for her too.

"Subject zero seven," Harry told her. His stomach coiled up hearing even the words come out of his own mouth. "I'm Harry."

Harry was a person, not a subject. A person.

The girl sat down, close enough to Harry that he could turn and they were face to face - she must have been eleven, maybe twelve. She had brown eyes, brown hair.

She was still a mirror, a mirror of a boy who had been playing hopscotch with his sister the day his life stopped being his own.

Harry didn't know if it was her fear or his that he saw in her eyes.

"Do you remember your name?" Harry asked her patiently. Maybe she didn't, she didn't have a sister with her who said her name and stroked her forehead and reminded her that she was a person before she was a subject.

She shook her head and pointed at her arm again.

"Eleven," she said.

"That's what They called you," Harry explained. "That's not who you are."

Maybe the girl didn't care, Harry did. They called her eleven, they made her a number, they made her not matter. She did matter though - to someone, somewhere, she had to matter.

"Can I call you Ellie?" Harry asked. It wasn't a great name, Harry didn't know any Ellies, but he couldn't call her Eleven. Harry wouldn't call her eleven, not ever. It - that was what They did. They made Harry dangerous, they couldn't make him one of Them.

"El?" the girl asked.

Harry didn't grimace, he only nodded shortly. Maybe the girl - El - needed time. When she was eleven or twelve, she escaped from Them. She hadn't escaped all the way yet, it would take longer than a week for her to stop waking up and thinking They had her - she was back in a cage and about to be taken away.

They would still lurk in her mind, ready to attack, but Harry could call her El until she remembered her real name.

"Did you escape?" Harry asked her. "Are you free now?"

El looked around them slowly, maybe searching the area like Harry still did.

"Escaped," she told him.

"That's good," Harry told her, meaning it. "I escaped too, with my sister."

"Sister?" El tilted her head at Harry with big eyes.

"Yeah, her name is Siri," Harry said. "She's my sister. We both escaped Them too."

"Siri…" El said slowly, bobbing her head in a nod. "Sister."

"Good job," Harry said. It wasn't a chore to be patient with El, not when Harry knew how hard it was to speak when someone didn't want to make noise. "Do you have a brother or sister?"

El looked at Harry's arm and he shook his head.

"I'm not your brother," he said, guessing what he thought she wanted to say. "I'm another subject."

"No brother," El said, whispering it like it was too sad to say loudly.

"That's okay," Harry told her. "You did good to escape. Are you hurt now?"

El was slower to shake her head and Harry could feel her eyes looking him over.

"Harry hurt?"

"No, Harry's not hurt." Harry touched his cheek where the last mark They left had healed. "See? Not hurt."

"Not hurt," El said, an echo of Harry. "Tired."

"Yeah, I'm tired too," he said. Harry didn't know what to do with El, how to keep her safe. Was she safe to have around Siri? Was Hop safe to have around her? She was a kid, only a kid.

There were two places Harry could think of… one a little better than the other.

"I have a friend," Harry told her. "Do you want to go with me to see him? You can sleep and I'll get you food."

"Friend?" El tilted her head and looked at Harry's arm again.

"He's not like us, but he's nice," Harry said. "And he keeps inviting me over, so I - I don't think he'll mind."

If he did then Harry could take El to Benny's house. It was empty, quiet. Harry didn't want to go there, he didn't want to remember how happy Siri had been there. And Steve had offered to have Harry over… for - basketball practice? Harry wasn't sure on the why, he only remembered the offer.

El scrambled to her feet and grabbed a small bag from behind the tree. Harry extinguished the fire he made and held a hand out for El - if she wanted it.

"It's hard to walk by yourself," Harry said. "I - you can hold my hand, if you want."

El took Harry's hand and squeezed his fingers gently, testing his grip maybe. Maybe she wanted to be sure she couldn't hurt him, be sure that Harry wouldn't let go at the first sign of discomfort.

"Want to," she said. "Brother."

Harry wasn't her brother, she knew that. She just needed someone, it didn't hurt anything to let her say that Harry was her brother. It might make things easier to explain when they made it to Steve's.

"My friend is a muggle," Harry explained to El while they walked. It was dark, but Harry wasn't afraid, couldn't be. El needed Harry to guide her. "You can't do magic in front of him, okay? No magic."

"No magic," El echoed. "Powers?" she asked.

Harry frowned and let his magic flow through him, flow through his fingertips until he listened to El with all his senses.

"That's magic," Harry told her once he was sure again of what El was. "You're like me," he said.

"Like Harry."

"Yes."

El must not have gone to Hogwarts or any other school for magic. They must have taken her before she bought a wand, made friends. Harry didn't know if that was better or worse… El didn't know what she was missing, but what memories did she have to hold on to when everything else was too much?

"We're getting closer," Harry told El when he was sure that they were. It was too dark for anything to be recognizable, but Harry - Harry could do that, when he made himself. It wasn't hard to find places, it was hard to make himself use magic.

"Friend, no magic," El said.

Harry nodded. "Right, no magic in front of my friend, okay? His name is Steve and he's a muggle."

"Muggle." El tilted her face up and the trees were thinning, Harry could see her big eyes full of curiosity. "Friend muggle?"

"It means not magical, he doesn't have powers," Harry explained. "We can't tell him we do, okay? It's supposed to be a secret."

"Secret," El agreed.

"Good job." Harry looked down at her and made himself smile, made sure she knew that she was doing a good job. It was hard, everything was too much, but El was doing the best she could and Harry knew that.

"Okay, this is Steve's house…" Harry could see the reflection of Steve's pool through the thinning trees, he could even see all the house lights were turned on. "If he says we can't come in, there's another place we can go, okay? And when I can I'll tell you more about magic."

Harry had millions of questions when Hagrid arrived in his life and told him and Siri about magic and wizards and witches. If El never got to experience that then she would be full of questions that were too hard to ask, questions she would want answered. Harry could do that. He could answer her questions.

El made a quiet sound when Harry pulled her around the house, they should knock on the front door.

"Don't be scared," Harry said. "Well, actually, it's okay if you're scared. But we have to do things anyway."

"Okay," El said.

"Good." Harry squeezed El's hand and took a deep breath before he knocked on the door - two quick knocks.

"You don't have to talk," Harry told El when they could hear footsteps jogging toward the door. "It's - I know it's hard. You don't have to, not with me."

El let out a tiny breath and leaned over on Harry, resting her head on his arm. She was tired, scared. Everything was new and different and too much and she was alone.

Harry understood.

"Hello? Oh! Hey! Harry." Steve opened the door and Harry blinked several times - he didn't have a shirt on. Which… it was his house. It was Steve's house and he didn't have to wear a shirt.

Harry looked at Steve's hair instead of his chest, wondered why it was flat until he realized it was wet too. Steve might have been swimming or showering or any reason why his hair would be flat and he wouldn't be wearing a shirt.

"Who is this?" Steve leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms over his shirtless chest. "This isn't Will, is it?"

El made a sound again, a quiet squeak in her throat.

"No, this is El, my sister," Harry said. He didn't like lying to Steve, Steve said they were friends and Harry wouldn't want his friend to lie to him. But Harry didn't know how else to explain who El was or why she was with him.

"Will?" El whispered to Harry. "Them."

Will wasn't one of Them, Harry couldn't explain that to El yet either.

"You have another sister?" Steve asked. He didn't seem to buy the story Harry was selling. "Did she come for the funeral or something?"

"Er… yes," Harry said. Lied. Harry was lying. He didn't want to be. "And Hop doesn't have any extra beds…"

Steve seemed to need a second, a second where Harry's stomach flipped and he wanted to cross his fingers but El was holding his hand and Harry didn't believe in luck anyway.

"Oh! Hey! You guys could crash here!" Steve offered, smiling widely at Harry and settling the flips happening in his stomach. "Good timing, really, I just made a crap ton of food and Rocky is gonna be on in like five minutes."

You guys.

Harry - Harry didn't actually want to stay there. Harry wanted to get back to Siri.

El looked up at Harry when they followed Steve inside and her eyes were so big and scared and she was all alone. She was alone and everything was too much and she was scared. Harry escaped and was free from Them, but everything was too much and he was alone in his head and scared.

"I'll stay," Harry told her in a whisper, said it again silently with the squeeze of her hand.

Hop could protect Siri, he said he would, Harry needed to stay with El.

And… Steve. Steve who had food and every light in his house turned on and no shirt.

Harry thought it was going to be a bad day when he woke up that morning, and it hadn't been great. It was more… incredibly strange and exhausting than anything else though.

Chapter Text

Sirianna felt the best that she had in a while on Saturday morning. She slept great, her hair still looked good, and she had plans with a friend.

A friend.

Sirianna hadn't had a friend in so long, she was almost nervous about it. Chrissy was nice, friendly and funny, what if Sirianna was a bore? A total bore who didn't know anything about anything and it made Chrissy hate her?

She would tell her friends, her real friends, about how weird Sirianna was and then nobody would ever want to be her friend again.

"The fuck are you doing, kid?"

Sirianna yelped and when she jumped she splattered some of the batter she had been stirring on herself.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Sirianna lunged for a rag to start cleaning the mess while Chief Hopper stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring her down unnervingly. Sirianna avoided his eyes and sent a furtive look to the bedroom door, listening hard for any sign of Harry waking.

Her poor brother had been exhausted, it made Sirianna feel terrible. Not just in her chest, a slow ache of Harry's pains, but she felt guilty too. Harry forgot to eat and he didn't sleep well and it was Sirianna's job to make sure he did all those things.

Harry had crashed hard, he hadn't made a peep all night. Sirianna was relieved she woke up before him, she wanted to surprise him with a good breakfast. She didn't actually realize that Chief Hopper was home… should she - should she have asked before cooking?

"I wanted to make breakfast," Sirianna said quietly, turning just enough so she could see Chief Hopper from the edge of her vision. "Is that - you - I'm sorry."

Sirianna didn't know what to say, she didn't know how to speak to Chief Hopper. He carried a gun. Sirianna knew she could be grateful that he was letting her and Harry stay in his house, but she didn't know why he was allowing it.

Benny was unique, Sirianna was sure of that. Benny had been a pure heart and he had been kind.

Chief Hopper didn't seem to have any interest in Sirianna or Harry. Which was fine, Sirianna didn't mind that. But then why were they there?

"You'll burn it." Chief Hopper walked to the stove and Sirianna shifted away, turned to keep an eye on him. He turned the knob down, that was all, before he leaned on the counter away from her, just watching.

"Pancakes?" he asked.

"There was a box in the cabinet," Sirianna explained, feeling defensive. "I didn't know if we could use it. I'll - I can replace it."

Sirianna didn't know how, not yet. There used to be a vault full of money that their parents left behind for them, if Sirianna could find a way to get their money, without anyone being alerted by it… they could be fine.

They could get their own house and Sirianna would fill it with food and comfy places for Harry to sleep. They would have books and clothes and Sirianna would make sure Harry could block every doorway every night.

"I could not care less," Chief Hopper said, interrupting Sirianna's thoughts on how she could get to the vault she shared with Harry. "It's pancakes, Siri."

"Sirianna," she corrected him immediately. Harry could call her Siri, that was it.

"Okay, it's pancakes, Sirianna," Chief Hopper said, sounding almost as if he were mocking her. "I think you might have made too much batter though, it's a lot for one person."

"I…" Sirianna started to speak, but the explanation caught in her throat. She had planned enough for two people —Harry and Sirianna — but it was Chief Hopper's house, and it was his food. She held back the truth, tried to stay polite.

"It's for three people," she finally corrected, her voice steady but her heart racing.

Chief Hopper's voice held a small hint of amusement. "As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, your brother isn't here. Unless he somehow snuck back in after I went to sleep."

"What?!" Sirianna yelped, almost sure that it was a joke - except it would be a terrible joke.

Sirianna's hand trembled, the spoon slipping from her fingers into the batter with a dull splat. Panic ignited in her chest, and she spun around, the room blurring as she bolted to the bedroom. Harry was asleep - he had to be. He was safe, calm, resting; Sirianna could feel his peace. She clung to that certainty as she tore down the hallway, each step a frantic beat in her chest.

When she threw open the door, all of her certainty shattered. Her pulse hammered in her ears as her eyes locked on the bed. The perfectly made bed.

No. No, no, no.

Harry should have been there, his peaceful body buried in the blankets. He always made the bed, it wasn't even proof if he had been in the bed or not, but he should be in it - he was supposed to be in it.

"WHY WOULDN'T YOU TELL ME HE'S GONE?!" The scream ripped from Sirianna's throat, raw and desperate. She didn't need to check the closets, didn't need to look under the bed - Harry wouldn't hide from her. He wouldn't leave without her. He wouldn't.

They stayed together. They always stayed together.

Chief Hopper had followed her, though he stayed far enough away in another stupid doorway with an idiotic look on his face.

"He's fifteen, it was a Friday night. He'll be back."

Chief Hopper was truly the stupidest man to ever exist. How he managed to breathe and walk at the same time was a true mystery.

"You thought HARRY would sneak out because he's fifteen and it's Friday?" Sirianna scoffed loudly, she didn't care if Chief Hopper swung his fists at her, she was furious. Harry could be hurt, scared.

Merlin, he could be gone. Gone.

Sirianna's hands shook when she pulled on her shoes. Harry could be gone, the White Coats could have them - he could be dead a million different ways, that could be the peace that Sirianna mistook for sleeping.

If Harry died would Sirianna have to feel his peace for the rest of her life? It wasn't a gift, it was a curse.

Gone. He was gone.

"He'll be back," Chief Hopper said, speaking to Sirianna's back as she made herself take long strides to the door - she had to find Harry. "Kids come home when they're ready."

Harry didn't have a home, they never had.

"Yeah?" Sirianna paused long enough to glower at Chief Hopper - to promise him pain and misery if her brother was hurt at all. "Tell that to Jonathan Byers."

What if all she had were a mere fifteen years? What if fifteen years was all the time she had and she didn't know it? Fifteen years, at least five she didn't remember, another five that were spotty with only important memories standing out. Nearly two years of shared laughter, smiles, joy. A little over three years of tears and pain and fear.

Fifteen years.

And Sirianna had been worried about making friends.

The ache in her stomach twisted, raw and pained. Sirianna doubled over on the sidewalk, retching until her stomach was empty and her body trembled. Tears blurred her vision and she wiped them away impatiently when she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. There wasn't time to breakdown, she had to find Harry.

Harry.

How was she meant to find Harry?

Sirianna walked blindly, focused more on what she could feel than what she could see. Harry could be gone, Sirianna didn't know that she would know. It was different, when he wasn't actively in pain Sirianna felt nothing. When he was tired or aching, Sirianna felt herself dragging, other than that…

Sirianna couldn't feel anything and it scared her.

There were an infinite number of places where Harry could be, Sirianna couldn't feel anything from him, and Chief Hopper was a miserable and stupid man.

When they first made the connection - when they tied Sirianna to her brother more than anyone had ever been connected before - Sirianna wanted to die.

Surely dying would be better than spending her days screaming until she was unconscious, then yanked back to consciousness by a new wave of torment.

How did Harry stand it? How could Harry lay on the floor in his cell across from Sirianna and only stare with blank eyes at the ceiling? Wasn't he twice as pained as Sirianna?

"Why aren't you crying?" Sirianna whispered to him. She wiped her own face and felt pitifully weak, useless, broken.

Harry didn't blink, he didn't want to move, Sirianna could see it.

"Because they want me to," he said flatly, still ripping Sirianna's body apart with his pain.

They tested it in reverse - tortured Sirianna to see if Harry could feel it. Sirianna tried to be as strong as Harry, she failed.

Harry cried though, when they were rewarded with sleeping in the same cell. Harry curled up beside Sirianna's still twitching body and she felt his tears drip on her.

It was the last time Sirianna saw him cry; never once did he cry for himself.

Sirianna needed to think - think, think, think. If Harry wasn't taken by the White Coats, if he did sneak away for some reason, where would he go? What would make Harry want to leave the house by himself?

Sirianna had to work on the assumption that Harry left the house by his own choice because she would never find him otherwise. If the White Coats found them - if they killed Benny, if they took Harry - then Sirianna would never find him.

If Harry left on his own, Sirianna might find him. It might even be a good thing, maybe Harry wanted to go for a walk. It didn't seem likely… but Sirianna couldn't move, breathe, think if she didn't tell herself that Harry went for a walk and lost track of time.

There was a park, not far from where Chief Hopper lived. There were a few kids playing, small and sweet with their winter caps on to fight the November chill. Harry wasn't there, Sirianna should have known he wouldn't be.

Sirianna found the path that led from the park to the quarry, a sort of river made with rocks. Sirianna didn't understand the thrill of it, the Black Lake had been beautiful - the quarry wasn't anything special.

What if Harry wasn't there? What if he was gone? Why - how did everything happen so quickly? Who would care, outside of Sirianna? Who would know that Harry was gone and he shouldn't be?

Who would remember Harry except for Sirianna? Who knew him?

Sirianna tripped on the loose gravel, fell and scraped her palm. She looked at her hand - her blood, the same as Harry's - and felt herself cracking down the center, spilling tears faster than blood could pour.

Was Harry bleeding? Would she know? Had something horrible happened when she went to sleep and Harry had died?

Sirianna couldn't - she couldn't live without Harry. For seven minutes she had, there were seven minutes where Sirianna had lived apart from Harry and she was sure that she had screamed the entire time.

"Sirianna?"

Sirianna was useless, absolutely useless. Harry was missing, gone. And what was she doing? Stupidly crying about it!

"Sirianna?"

Someone crouched down in front of her and Sirianna couldn't see through her blurry eyes but she knew it wasn't Harry, she knew it wasn't the one person she needed the most.

"Harry's gone," Sirianna wailed, hating that she couldn't find him, didn't somehow know where he might be. If Sirianna were the one missing, she knew Harry would find her immediately. Harry was the one with the magical strength, Harry was the one who didn't waste time or energy with crying. And Harry was gone.

"Baby bird flew the coop?"

Only one person would hear Harry was missing and still take a moment to insult him. Sirianna rubbed her face off with her shoulder and yanked her hand to her chest when surprisingly gentle hands tried to touch her.

"Harry is not a baby," Sirianna snapped, the stuffiness of her nose somehow dampening her anger. She glowered darkly at Billy, Billy who was knelt down in front of her, appearing out of nowhere.

Or maybe not nowhere - Sirianna looked around and saw that she must have slid the rest of the way down to the quarry. Billy's blue car - gorgeous and loud and fast - was parked on the opposite bank, Sirianna could hear the music from where she was.

"He's missing though?" Billy asked. His palm was still stretched out, Sirianna could touch his hand if she wanted.

But it wasn't Billy whose hand she needed, not then. Not until she knew where Harry was.

"Chief Hopper said he snuck out," Sirianna explained, trying to get through it without bawling uselessly. "I don't think he did though, Billy. Harry wouldn't. Where would he go??"

"Alright, talk me through it," Billy said. He reached slowly for Sirianna's hand even while he rolled his eyes at her. "And give me your fucking hand, doll. You're bleeding."

Sirianna wished Harry wasn't missing - gone - gone. She wished she could appreciate Billy Hargrove carefully picking little pieces of gravel out of the palm of her hand. She couldn't though, she couldn't even worry about what Billy was doing as she rushed out an explanation.

"— and then he said ‘oh he'll come home when he's hungry' but he won't, Billy, I know he won't! Harry doesn't even know when he's hungry! And he wouldn't leave without me, I just know he wouldn't. I - I can't lose him, I can't. He's - we've been through everything together."

Billy was holding her hand, just lightly running his thumb over the back of her own hand. He had listened to everything Sirianna said and even if he was an arse sometimes, Sirianna had seen him be an arse to Steve and to his sister and then Steve again, Billy listened.

"You checked with Harrington or Byers yet?" Billy asked. When Sirianna shook her head, Billy raised her hand up and - and he pressed his lips to the scrape.

"C'mon, kitten, let's go find little bird. You can have shotgun."

There was a drop of Sirianna's blood on Billy's face, just on the edge of his lips. Sirianna should have told him, but… but she didn't. Sirianna let Billy help her up and then she followed him to his car, hating that she needed someone to help her find Harry.

Harry could find her on his own, if it were reversed.

"Where are you going?" Sirianna asked after she climbed in Billy's car. Billy's car was lovely, really. It was a beautiful sky blue on the outside, the inside was all dark leather that smelled like smoke and Billy. Billy drove with the windows down and the radio turned all the way up - filling the car with wind and music and speed. Merlin, Billy's car was fast.

And the backseat looked normal, Sirianna had checked.

"Figured we'd check with Stevie Wonder," Billy said. He shifted the driving stick thing, Sirianna heard gravel flying behind the spinning tires as Billy easily maneuvered the car up the small hill, breaking out between two trees that were just the right width for Billy's car.

"Steve? No, Harry wouldn't be there," Sirianna said. She should have thought of Jonathan first, he was Harry's friend. Harry liked Jonathan, he was Harry's first friend in Hawkins, maybe his best friend outside of Sirianna. "Jonathan," she decided firmly. "Do you know where he lives?"

"Hick town like this?" Billy spun the wheel hard, put the car on the road just in time for the tires to squeal against the pavement. "Everyone knows where everyone lives."

If everyone knew where everyone lived then someone had to know where Harry was. Someone, one person, had to know where Harry was.

Sirianna just hoped it would be someone rather than Harry.

Jonathan's car was parked in the drive of a little white house and Sirianna threw the car door open before Billy even parked.

"Easy, don't break my car," Billy complained, taking much too long to climb out.

Sirianna hardly listened to Billy's complaint, she was already running to the door, silently praying that Harry would be there. Billy caught up to her when Sirianna knocked and they only had a moment of pause before the house shook with a loud - THUD!

"What the fuck!"

Sirianna hardly had time to yelp before Billy turned and Sirianna was blocked behind his body. There was another thud, another crash. Billy swore again and Sirianna could hardly see past Billy, past the dust and dirt that filled the air. When she did see what caused the noise - the third THUD - she couldn't understand it.

A part of the house had broken? No, not broken… Sirianna could see a sharp tool, an axe, sticking through the wall…

"Will?" A woman's voice broke and repeated Will's name as the most desperate plea. "Will… please, Will… please. WILL!"

"Mom? Jesus, Mom!"

The second voice was Jonathan and Sirianna felt terrible, she wasn't intentionally eavesdropping on a quite private moment, there was a giant hole in the wall that carried their conversation clearly outside.

"He's here, Jonathan," the woman, Jonathan's mum, it seemed, sobbed. She was sobbing because a piece of her heart was missing, outside of her sight and missing. "I know he is, he told me."

"Fucking crazy bitch…" Billy mumbled under his breath.

She did sound crazy, but so did Hagrid when he said that Sirianna and Harry were a witch and wizard. Hagrid proved he wasn't a mad man, maybe Jonathan's mum could too.

"Move please," Sirianna requested politely. Billy had her blocked in the corner, which - which Sirianna couldn't waste time thinking about because her brother was missing and there might be another boy stuck in a wall.

Billy muttered another curse under his breath before he moved, giving Sirianna access to the front door once again. She knocked firmly, her fingers crossed behind her back that Harry would be there.

"Just sit here, okay?" Jonathan said inside the house, breaking Sirianna's heart some. He sounded sad, scared, much older than he was. Jonathan must have been carrying the weight of his brother's disappearance, the weight of his mum's sanity, his father's indifference.

Jonathan looked as haggard as he sounded when he answered the door. He started to force a smile for Sirianna, then blinked at Billy beside her.

"It's, uh…" Jonathan's eyes flicked to the side, where there was a large hole in the side of his house. "Not a good time."

That was all he had to say and Sirianna knew - knew that her own brother wasn't there. Jonathan would have mentioned it, Harry would have walked with him to the door. There weren't any noises inside the house except for Jonathan's mum's heartbroken cries.

She still had to ask, had to be sure. Because as horrible as it was that Will was missing - and Sirianna wanted to know more about if he was inside a wall - she couldn't do anything until Harry was safe.

"Have you seen Harry?" Sirianna asked.

"Harry?" Jonathan's eyebrows furrowed down and he shook his head. "No. Is he missing?"

"We don't know yet," Billy said, drawling the words lazily.

Sirianna gave Billy a sharp look because she did know. She knew that Harry was missing because she didn't know where he was.

"Let me grab my jacket, I'll come help look," Jonathan offered, not missing Sirianna's expression.

"No, stay here," Sirianna said. It was kind of Jonathan to offer, he was a kind person, but his brother was missing too and his mum needed Jonathan. If Sirianna and Billy didn't find Harry within the next hour then she would enlist every person she knew to help search for him. Until then…

Jonathan had too much on his shoulders and Harry was Sirianna's baby brother.

"Time to check out Harrington's," Billy said when they were in his car again. Sirianna nodded absently, knowing that Harry wouldn't be there. She stared at Jonathan on his porch and the curl of his shoulders, the bags beneath his eyes.

Siblings weren't meant to be separated, they weren't.

Parents could die and friends could leave, but a brother was meant to be forever.

Sirianna had only ever lived in a world without Harry for seven minutes.

Billy, bless him, drove too quickly for Sirianna to process properly. It was faster than her Nimbus could fly probably, not as fast as it needed to be. Harry once told Sirianna that time sometimes passed him by every time he blinked and Sirianna wanted that.

Blink - Harry would be in the backseat, frowning at the music that blared just right.

Blink - Harry would be safely with Sirianna, no longer missing, lost, or taken.

Sirianna blinked three times, looked in the backseat, Harry wasn't there.

"What if I don't find him?" Sirianna asked aloud, voicing the worst fear of her life, the worst question she had ever asked. What if Harry was gone forever?

Billy shifted the stick thing, the cat seemed to truly fly around a corner, and he reached over to put his hand on Sirianna's.

"Then we'll keep looking," he said, his voice steady.

Sirianna didn't mind Billy's hand on hers, not so much then. It wasn't the hand she needed, but it was a small warmth.

‘We'll', he said. We.

Steve's house was nice, very nice. Sirianna had seen it in the dark before and thought it was rather posh, but seeing it in the daylight confirmed it for her. The house was huge with glass walls that reflected the sun and trees, the lawn pristine, everything was quiet.

"Why do you hate Steve?" Sirianna asked as Billy parked his car so close behind Steve's that they had to be touching. It seemed purposeful, judging from the smirk on Billy's face.

"Why not?" Billy asked.

"I…" Sirianna didn't have an answer. Steve had been rude to Sirianna and Harry, then seemed to be nice. Billy was rude to everyone, apparently, but hadn't been too unkind to Sirianna or Harry yet.

The mystery of Billy and Steve's animosity could wait, after Sirianna found her brother. After she could breathe again. After Harry was safe.

Billy turned the car off and the sudden silence was almost deafening. Sirianna had no hopes that Harry would be inside the house, she couldn't imagine why Billy thought Harry would be. Sirianna knew her brother, she knew him better than she knew herself. It was a waste of time and Harry could be slipping further and further away, he could be gone.

The front door of Steve's house opened before Sirianna even reached the pretty little porch area. Steve didn't say hello, he didn't ask why Sirianna and Billy were there, he —

"Harry's still asleep."

Sirianna could only gawk at Steve, his words hanging between them. The relief that rushed her was staggering, it made her want to fall to her knees and sob that her brother was safe, asleep, not gone.

But there was a sharp edge slicing through her chest, an edge of betrayal. Harry didn't betray her, except he did. Harry left, he left her, and went to Steve's. To - what? To sleep? Could he not sleep where Sirianna was? Could he not leave a note as Sirianna had for him?

"I thought you were done."

Was he done with her? Did Harry think he was too grown, too powerful, too indifferent to everything to need Sirianna anymore?

Harry was asleep, uncaring that he put Sirianna through hell.

Sirianna stepped forward and Steve moved to the side immediately, letting her inside without meeting her eyes.

"I should have called," he mumbled.

He should have.

Steve led the way up a set of gleaming stairs, taking Sirianna toward her brother. The house was so quiet, almost eerie. Sirianna was only half-aware of Billy following her upstairs, it only made her think the entire thing would be a dream - a nightmare - if she could do things like that.

Harry was asleep, in Steve Harrington's house. Harry left her, left no note, terrified her… for what?

Sirianna didn't even know he would be there, didn't think Harry would willingly and freely leave her to go to someone else's house.

They reached a door at the top of the stairs and Steve nudged it open so Sirianna could peer inside and see the proof of what Steve said.

And there was proof. Harry was stretched out in a bed, only his black hair could be seen sticking out from beneath a navy blue comforter. It only took Sirianna a second to look at the walls, to see the basketball posters, for her to guess it was Steve's room.

Steve's bedroom or - or his little brother, maybe, who was curled up on the foot of the bed, just as soundly asleep as Harry.

Sirianna felt frozen - relieved, shocked, hurt.

"How could he?" she asked, too low to wake her brother or the child sleeping in the same bed as him. Harry's chest rose and fell beneath the blanket, his body was still - it was peace that Sirianna felt. Harry was peaceful in his sleep.

"I should have called you," Steve murmured again, clearly concerned that he would wake up his bestest friend in the world. He tried to shut the door and Billy snaked a hand out to force it open, but Sirianna stepped back with a shake of her head.

Sirianna didn't even know him, her own brother. Billy had recommended they go to Steve's, Sirianna had no hope at all that her brother would actually be there.

It was too much, too much after a morning that had been too much.

Sirianna turned on her heel and started taking the stairs two at a time, desperate to get out of Steve Harrington's house.

"Why do you hate Steve?"

"Why not?"

Why not? Why not hate Steve and be furious at Harry and hate that he left her and let her sink down in terror and fear and misery while he slept through it all?

"Sirianna! Wait!" Steve called after her, but Sirianna didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear a damn thing from Steve, none of it would matter when the person she wanted to hear from was sleeping.

There was nothing that could get between Sirianna and Harry, ever. Not the cruelness and inequality of their relatives and their punishments. Not their different houses at Hogwarts or different friend groups. Their opposition in quidditch and the House Cup didn't come between them. The years in captivity and torture had brought them as close as two people could possibly be. And yet Sirianna didn't know her brother at all.

Sirianna had only lived in a world without her brother for seven minutes - maybe she cried the whole time while Harry slept and had to be forced out in the world to join her.

Chapter Text

Harry didn't mean to fall asleep. He didn't.

All he meant to do was show El it was safe for her to sleep, safe for her to close her eyes.

El said his name and sounded scared - she was somewhere new and everything had changed and it was too much - so Harry laid down on the bed to show her how absolutely safe it was.

Then Harry closed his eyes and somehow fell asleep. It had been a deep sleep too, one that was filled with blissful black and the vague scent of something that smelled clean, like fresh robes from a wardrobe.

Harry woke up slowly at first, unwilling to give up the last tendrils of a very near-happiness. It was only his body demanding he find a loo that had Harry stirring.

"Sister."

Harry jolted, startled by the single word said to him. Sister?

El stared at Harry unblinkingly from the foot of the bed where she sat. El hadn't been too old to need someone to sleep with her, Harry hoped she had slept. She certainly seemed better, looking as refreshed as Harry felt.

After they sort of barged in on Steve, Steve made them eat dinner and watch a movie together. It… had been okay. Harry actually thought it had been fun, maybe, but Siri wasn't there and that had worried him. She had been fine though, Harry didn't get the sense that she had been hurt while he slept.

Harry would still need to get back to her quickly, he didn't want her to worry if Harry wasn't there. If she would worry… Harry wasn't as sure about his place by Siri as he used to be.

"Sister," Harry agreed with El. His voice was scratchy, rough with sleep. "We need to go see her."

El shook her head and pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the bedroom door.

"Sister," she repeated.

Sister… Harry was at Steve's house… he fell asleep.

Harry fell asleep.

"She's here?" Harry threw the blanket he was covered with off of his body so he could swing his legs out of the bed. El nodded and Harry tripped over his own feet in his rush to stand up.

He fell asleep. He shouldn't have. He could stay awake for days - 308.5 hours, twelve days. He could and he fell asleep and Siri was there.

El scrambled off the bed and ducked beneath it to grab the sparkly green bag she had carried with her. Harry didn't know what was inside of it, he didn't care either. It must be important to El, it was important.

Harry rubbed his chest when El opened the door and it struck him that Siri was upset, horribly upset. It was crushing Harry's chest, making him clumsy as he ran down the stairs. Siri was in pain, she was hurting —

Harry should have stayed awake, asked Steve how to call her on the telephone. He should have done something different.

Steve called Harry's name when he passed the sitting room, Harry ignored him. He could tell Siri was there, close by somewhere, but not inside the house.

When Harry didn't give control his focus, when Harry was distracted and thoughts rushed too quickly - Was Siri hurt? Upset? Angry? Would she leave? Would it be the thing to push her away? Should Harry beg her to stay? - his magic flowed. It was dangerous, hot; Harry knew what he was capable of.

He didn't want to let it lash out, he didn't want to hurt anyone. He wanted his sister.

The front door flew open before Harry touched it and there was Siri, she was there, she was there. She didn't leave, not ever, never, not yet.

Siri was curled up with her legs to her chest - there were birds tweeting and Harry's pulse beat frantically. It was loud outside, too loud - Billy had his arm around her, protecting her from something - someone - Harry.

Harry swallowed and his tongue grew, there was blood in his spit. Did he bite his lip? Did he do that?

"Siri?"

She knew he was there, she had to. She didn't turn and Harry's knees were weak. Harry's magic loved Siri, went out to her for all the contact Harry was too old, too embarrassing to receive.

Siri's hair - it looked nice, she was fitting in, she always did - flew in the same warped, wrong, dangerous wind that blew Harry's hair around.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. He didn't know what for anymore.

Everything?

Harry was sorry their parents were taken from Siri in an attempt to kill Harry. Harry was sorry Siri was treated badly because he was too odd, too strange. Harry was sorry Siri was taken and tortured and nearly killed because he wasn't able to die.

Harry was sorry that her life was darkened by his presence and that she was the only light in his life.

Siri sniffled because she was crying - Harry hated when she cried, he couldn't crawl away from it, he had to fix it - and reached up to wipe her face on the sleeve of her jacket.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was?"

Siri? Siri wasn't scared, she was brave. Fierce. Brilliant.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, everything that Siri wasn't. She turned and where flames lived in her eyes, there was only wind in Harry's eyes, scattering his thoughts. The magic rushing around them picked up speed, it grew further out of Harry's control the more he tried to think.

Think, think, think.

"Har?" Siri's eyes widened, the flames died down. Her hair kept hiding her face, hiding the panic Harry could feel in his chest.

Was it his panic or hers? Wasn't it all the same? As identical as their faces and eyes and the mirror images they reflected?

The Mirror of Erised was the only mirror in the world that reflected two different images to them.

"Harry!" Siri pushed Billy away and forced herself up - Harry wanted to sit, to crawl away, to say sorry until it became meaningless.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. Sorrysorrysorry.

A liturgy of sorrow.

"I'm not mad." Siri was speaking while Harry tried to breathe, couldn't stop breathing then. It was a reflection and Siri had to breathe. "Breathe," she echoed his chant, she knew him better than anyone in the world. Better than himself. Better than anyone.

Harry sucked in a breath, his eyes laser focused on Siri. Everything outside of Siri didn't matter, it didn't, it didn't.

Until it did.

Siri's gaze moved past Harry, there was a furl between her eyebrows that Harry could smooth out, could fix if he wasn't so broken.

"Go inside," Siri snapped. "It's - there's a tornado."

Super tornadoes. Tornadoes with the power to rip a house from its foundation and to kill anyone who had the bad luck to cross it.

A small hand pressed itself on Harry's back, sending a ripple through his body, breaking through the uncontrollable magic. It was going to kill someone - would have - if it weren't for that small hand.

Why wasn't it Siri's hand?

"Brother. Hurt?"

That was El. The hand was El. The question was El.

It wasn't Siri and that thought - that truth - killed the tornado wrapped around them quickly.

There were more sounds, someone cursing fluently, someone breathing loudly.

"Harry?" Siri wasn't looking at Harry but past him, at El. The fire smoldered and she looked down —

It ignited.

"Who are you?" Siri grabbed Harry's shoulders and jerked him hard. Away from El, toward herself, ripping Harry in half. Right down the center, his shoulders were in Siri's tight grip and the small hand was left behind.

"Sister," El said simply. It was simple, to her. El and Siri and Harry all shared a tattoo, a past, magic. El didn't seem to have other siblings, Siri was excellent enough that Harry could shar—

"You are not his sister!" Siri shrieked, clutching Harry tighter, pulling him to her chest. "I am his sister. You are a - a - DID YOU KILL BENNY?"

A bird cawed as it flew away, Harry whined when he broke out of Siri's grasp.

"El didn't kill Benny," Harry said, turning so that he wasn't touching either girl - neither of them. El stood on his left, her eyes big and wide - scared. Siri was on Harry's right, heated and furious at the wrong person. She didn't know El, didn't understand her.

"Harry." Siri lifted her finger and it was trembling with rage when she pointed it at El. "She was there."

Harry looked over at El slowly, wondering what he would find. Blood? Hate? Something other than a scared kid who just wanted the world to be a quiet place for her?

That was all Harry saw, El and the bag she had, the only thing she owned.

"That bag," Siri said slowly, still pointing at El with her finger like a weapon, "it was at Benny's, the day he was killed. I saw it."

That… Harry's eyes flew to El's and she shook her head quickly, her face paling at Siri's accusation. There had to be a reason, something logical, something like —

"They chased you," Harry said, knowing it had to be true. He had felt magic there, the day Benny had been killed. It wasn't the warm and curious magic that surrounded El, but the cold and uncaring magic that They had.

Harry could see it perfectly: El must have escaped, maybe she had her own feeling about Hawkins, maybe she liked hawks. For all Harry knew, there could have been multiple centers across the world and El had been at a nearby one. She might have ran, went to Benny's just as Harry and Siri did - unknowingly following their exact footsteps - and They followed.

They found her, They killed Benny.

It all made sense.

"They? Who? The White Coats?" Siri scoffed and when El shifted, so did she. "Har, she's probably one of them! Look at her!"

Harry was looking at her, he didn't know what Siri saw that he didn't. Harry saw a small kid, scared to even talk, hiding in the safest shadows of her own mind.

"She's not a White Coat," Harry said. He moved closer to El and held his hands open by his side. "El, show her your arm. Please? I know you didn't kill Benny."

El stared at Harry and she must have trusted him, that was what Harry thought. She searched in his eyes and maybe she saw some of herself in his eyes just as he did hers. She nodded and then held out her left arm and pulled the sleeve up for Siri without ever looking away from Harry.

"Good job," Harry said, forcing a small smile that El returned instantly.

"That's… what?" Siri took a jerky step toward El and El shrank closer to Harry. "Eleven? You're like Harry?"

"Like us," Harry told her, holding one hand out to both of them. He looked at Siri and tried to not be hopeful, desperate, needy. "She's like us, Siri."

"No, she's not." Siri pulled her left arm out of her jacket sleeve and her own small tattoo, her number and name for years, was clear as could be on her pale skin.

07-B

"She's like you," Siri said, her voice breaking at the end. "You were looking for her, right? How long have you known about her? Why didn't you tell me?"

Harry frowned at Siri's mark, not understanding anything she was saying. They were identical, mirror reflections on the outside. So why were they speaking two different languages suddenly? Had it always been like that? Had Siri been - been placating Harry by pretending to understand him?

Zero-Seven. Zero-Seven-B.

They were the same.

"I didn't know about El until in the woods last night," Harry said, struggling to get the words out when he could feel eyes - too many eyes, scratching his skin from the inside - focused on him. The buzzing was back inside of his ears, it felt unreal.

All of it was unreal.

"I wanted to tell you," Harry still had his hand out for Siri and she wasn't taking it, wasn't understanding that Harry needed her. It was embarrassing and immature, he was sorry.

"I didn't know how, Siri. Then I - I fell asleep last night, I'm sorry. Siri, please, I'm sorry."

Siri glanced down, a brief split-second - did she not see his hand? Or not care?

"I love you," she said, "but I - I need space. I need to breathe. And I need —" Siri reached past Harry and snatched the bag from El, ripping it out of her hands. "—that. It was Benny's, and you got him killed. And you," Siri swallowed and Harry nearly whimpered at the slicing inside of his chest, Siri's pain cutting him open. "You're defending her."

He was, because who else would? Siri defended Harry, took care of him. El had no one, no one and nothing.

"Yeah," Harry said, dropping his hand. "I am. El didn't kill Benny. They did. She's - she's just a kid, Sirianna. Like we were."

Were.

Because they were grown and couldn't share a bed, couldn't hold hands anymore. Everything on the outside was the same and Harry didn't know when their insides changed so much.

It was Harry, Harry who changed.

They changed him, it couldn't be fixed, no matter how badly Harry wanted to be like Siri.

"I love you, Siri," Harry said, forcing his eyes to stay dry, clear, honest. He wished that the others would go away, look away. They were adding weight to his chest and he could only carry so much.

"I love you," Siri said. No hesitation, no delay. She did love him. "I'll come back and we'll talk, okay? Just us? I - I need to cool off, think, I can't even think right now and everything is so awful."

He wasn't enough, he was never enough.

Harry nodded and stayed rooted to his spot when Siri reached out, as if she were going to touch him, then pulled her hand back and left.

She said she would come back, maybe that was the best Harry should hope for. That even if people didn't want to stay, couldn't bear to stay, maybe they'd come back.

It hurt, to see her leave. It wasn't her fault, but it was still Harry's own ache inside of him pulsing away on a bruised heart.

Harry… didn't actually know what to do. He didn't have a home, a place he could go. El sat down right where she had been standing, Billy chased after Siri and she left in his car, Steve - Harry wasn't actually sure where Steve went.

Harry couldn't leave though, because Siri said she would be back.

It was cool outside, calm after Siri left. Harry wound up walking around the house, choosing to sit beside the pool with his legs pulled up and his chin tucked on his knees.

The water looked so serene, as quiet and peaceful as Harry remembered flying to be. There were ripples, like waves of wind that pushed brooms and boys into clouds. It was blue, endlessly blue.

Harry would have done anything in that moment for a broomstick.

Flying had been one of the most amazing parts of becoming a wizard. To float through the sky, to fly high above the rest of the world in a place where he could only be himself? It had been everything.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Steve walked around the edge of the pool, Harry had seen him balancing on the ledge after Harry sat down, but he only added to the picture of the pool so Harry hadn't thought much about him until he spoke up.

A penny for Harry's thoughts? Steve was looking at him, balanced on one foot as he teetered between the cement and the blue water.

"I wish I could fly," Harry said, blinking and breaking himself from the daze that the water had him under. Blink, Siri would be back soon. She would be back. Soon.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said, sighing and wobbling some. A breeze would knock him in the water - an opposite breeze would save him.

The world was strange like that.

"Is that… a thing you can do?" Steve's voice was peculiar, Harry blinked and looked at him. Blink, there was Steve, wobbling on one foot, looking at Harry openly.

"Can I… fly?" Harry asked, struggling to understand why Steve would ask him that. Did El know more about magic than Harry had assumed? Did she say something when Harry walked away? It didn't seem likely, but Harry knew his sister wasn't there to say anything either.

"Yeah." Steve grinned, a crooked slash of his lips that was almost… nervous? Was he nervous? Was Harry making him nervous?

"Like a mutant, or something."

A… was he…? Harry pulled his legs to his chest a little tighter, telling himself it wasn't disappointment that he felt. Mutant, freak; it didn't matter.

"No." Harry dropped his eyes back to the water and held himself together, made himself stay where he was because Siri would be back. "I'm not a mutant."

How bruised could an organ become before it stopped working? Harry could die, he knew he could, They were planning on it. If his heart kept pulsing, beating him with every pound inside of his chest, would it eventually stop? Would it all stop?

"Witch?"

"What?" Harry didn't blink, made himself not blink. He looked at Steve again because the prickle of his gaze hadn't left Harry's skin. Did Steve say witch? Did he call him a witch?

"I don't know!" Steve threw his hands up, wobbled then jumped to swap feet. "Maybe I'm going freaking insane, okay? But I swear to you that the door opened itself up, then there was some sort of crazy wind, and Hargrove was saying a bunch of crazy shit. I thought - I don't know, maybe you were like a secret X-Men or something."

Harry did blink, but time didn't speed past him. The beating in his chest slowed, eased.

X-Men? Where had Harry seen…? At - in Jonathan's car, maybe? Someone's car. Harry remembered being in someone's car and seeing a yellow book tucked in the door pocket, there were bright blue letters across the top.

"They're heroes," a boy told Harry, a cruel whisper added after he shoved the book down, out of Harry's sight. "If you were in the comic books, you'd be the Super Loser."

"Shut up, Dudley," Siri hissed, kicking carefully so as to not be seen by anyone else in the car. "You'd be the Extra Ogre."

"Like a hero?" Harry asked Steve. "You - you thought I could be a superhero?"

Steve didn't laugh, didn't immediately mock Harry and correct him. His easy grin was still there, crooked and… and sweet. Cute? It was pretty. Steve could have been a superhero, balancing on one foot with his arms out at his sides - he would have made a good one.

Harry didn't know much about superheroes, he knew he wasn't one though. Siri? She could be a hero. Steve too, probably. Not Harry.

"Yeah, I mean, put you in a jumpsuit and you could be Storm," Steve said. Harry tilted his head and Steve must have understood his confusion before he voiced it. "She controls the weather, it's badass."

Badass.

Harry liked that. Harry liked that Steve thought he, Harry, was ‘badass'. Harry should have told Steve the truth, that he wasn't a hero and never could be - Harry was designed by Them to be powerful and dangerous, not brave and selfless like heroes were.

He didn't want to tell Steve that though, he didn't want to ruin the moment, ruin the warmth that spread from his stomach through his limbs. Harry didn't want to destroy the strange flutter in his stomach that was his, it was his feeling - the one that Steve caused before. It… it didn't hurt.

Harry mimicked Steve's smile carefully, in thanks for the ‘badass' and the warmth and the everything.

Then, all at once, just after Harry tried to smile at someone who wasn't Siri and wasn't El, Steve fell in the pool.

SPLASH!

The water was cold when it splashed up and droplets landed on Harry before he could scoot away from it. Steve disappeared beneath the ripples for a second with his arms flailing. The shock of the water was refreshing, really, it snapped Harry from the moment he had been curled up in, from the frigidity in his body.

Harry was grateful to have been splashed, really. It gave him an excuse to reach up, to wipe his face while Steve popped out in the pool, sputtering and laughing.

There had been one tear, one tear that Harry could never differentiate from the pool water, that slipped out before he could stop it. Harry looked at his hand, wondered why his tears weren't as different as everything else about him.

Steve shook his hair, spraying more water at Harry, and he was laughing still, laughing, laughing, laughing.

"I guess if you need a sidekick it won't be me," Steve said. It was a joke, Harry thought. Steve was still grinning, not as soft as before, but still a grin.

Friendly. Nice.

The battering of Harry's heart against his ribcage ended with the splash - hearts used electronic signals, electronics couldn't work when sprayed with water. They didn't work so great in the air either, Harry remembered.

Harry stood up, didn't blink - didn't want the moment to pass. Harry quickly pulled his sweater over his head, left on the soft trousers that Benny had given him a lifetime ago. He didn't think, wouldn't let his brain crawl away or his magic to spread.

Falling was easy, falling was the easiest thing a person could do.

The cold water was a shock to his system, not an unwelcome one. It was a reset to his system, it calmed him immediately and muffled the whoop Steve released and the world outside of the water altogether. It was comfortable, sinking down and letting the water embrace him.

Siri would return and until then… Harry thought that he might stay in the pool. Steve was shucking his shirt when Harry finally had to push himself back to the surface, he didn't seem as if he were about to shout at Harry to leave, go away, give him space.

Blue skies, blue water.

Harry had space, time, freedom. It was enough until he could have his sister back.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It was the start of a really stupid joke:

The world's biggest douchebag, a really weird kid, and a normal guy sat in a kitchen while two mutants talked in the living room and everyone pretended to not be eavesdropping…

Steve didn't know what the punchline would be, but he thought it would probably include an actual punch.

"— can't sleep…"

"Well…" Steve thrummed his fingers on the table loudly, covering the conversation he probably wasn't meant to hear. "This is fun."

Hargrove grunted with an annoying little smirk on his face. Steve really didn't get what Sirianna saw in the guy. He was an ass, had been from the first day they met.

Steve didn't even want him in his house, kicking back in one of the dining table chairs, way too at ease. He had literally strode inside, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and sat down - making himself right at home.

The little girl, the one that Harry called his sister and Sirianna said was not their sister was tense. And silent. She like didn't talk at all.

Everything was actually completely insane so maybe Hargrove sitting in Steve's kitchen like he belonged there was the least crazy thing.

Superpowers. Harry had freaking superpowers. He was like a real life Storm with green eyes and the power to control the weather.

It was freaking insane, but so badass.

Harry was kind of a secret badass, really. He was so quiet sometimes but then - BAM! - suddenly he's making magic tornadoes and protecting El and — it was awesome.

"Hey," Hargrove cut through Steve's replay of the insane day he had. "What are you thinking about right now?" he asked Steve.

"What?" Steve shook his head, was Billy Hargrove really asking what was on his mind?

Hargrove leaned forward and Steve really didn't like the glimmer in his eyes. If he was amused, it couldn't mean anything good for Steve.

"Come on," Hargrove said, all friendly suddenly. "What were you thinking about?"

"I don't know?" Steve ran a hand through his hair and tried to decide if he should lie or not. What did it matter?

"Superpowers?" Steve said with a shrug. It was geeky, but Hargrove saw it all go down the same way Steve did. Why wouldn't he be thinking about it?

"Ah." Hargrove smiled, it wasn't really friendly though and Steve realized he probably should have lied and said basketball or something.

"… feel like things changed…"

"Why's it matter?" Steve asked defensively. He really didn't like Hargrove's face then.

"It doesn't." Hargrove took a swig of Steve's beer then slid the bottle from hand to hand, playing innocent suddenly. "You had a dumbass smile on your face and I wanted to know if I was right."

Yeah, that wasn't ominous at all.

"Were you?" Steve asked, tensing in irritation. Why couldn't Hargrove be a normal human being for one freaking day? Mutants were real and he wanted to pick a fight with Steve, it was unreal.

"Yeah." Hargrove shot him a shit-eating grin across the table. "I sure was."

"You were right that I was thinking about superpowers?"

El's head swiveled side to side while she watched them argue. Steve really hoped that the twins couldn't hear them because Hargrove looked ready to say something stupid. Or maybe he did hope they could hear him, maybe then Sirianna would realize he was a douche and quit bringing him around.

"Nope." Hargrove licked his lips, like a freaking starving dog about to rip Steve apart for a meal. "I figured if you were looking like a little bitch then you were thinking about Harry."

That - that wasn't true. Or, not really. Kind of? Steve stilled while he worked through the obvious insinuation.

Billy was wrong. He was wrong and an ass so everything he said was made to be annoying.

First off Steve didn't look like a little bitch, ever. Even if he was smiling, that didn't make him a bitch. Were guys not supposed to ever smile? They couldn't think that finding out comic books could come true wasn't rad?

And second off, Steve - Steve wasn't gay. That was what Billy was trying to imply, that Steve was grinning about Harry and he wasn't. It - that was just Hargrove being a dick. Steve - he wasn't - Harry was cool, it made Steve happy that they were friends.

Harry was nice, he had called to check on Steve when it was his uncle who had died. Harry didn't act like he expected Steve to be anything or do anything when they hung out. And he liked to swim! They were outside for over an hour, Why shouldn't Steve like being around him?

It didn't mean Steve was fucking gay.

"Maybe I was thinking about your mom," Steve muttered, pissed off for no real reason. It didn't matter what Hargrove thought, his opinion shouldn't make Steve feel sick.

"Say that again, real clear, Stevie."

Steve snapped his eyes up and planned on doing just that until he saw the look Hargrove got sometimes, the insane look that made Steve think it might not be worth it. Hargrove should be locked up, he was freaking psychotic.

"… love you more than anything. Anything."

"Nothing," Steve scoffed, turning away. "Why don't you just stop talking?"

"Whatever you say," Hargrove said smugly. There was a pause, "Queen Steve."

"You know what?" Steve jumped to his feet, knocking his chair down. He was fed up with it, fed up with Hargrove sitting in his freaking house and running his mouth.

Hargrove stood too, ready for the fight he had been obviously working for.

"What?" Hargrove taunted him. "Go ahead, do something."

Steve was ready to lunge over the table, hit Hargrove at least once. Hargrove was insane, Steve would probably get destroyed, but at least then the guy would shut there fuck up.

"Seriously?"

Steve turned when Sirianna's voice cut through the tension. She stood in the doorway, shoulder to shoulder with her brother, and looked at Hargrove with as much disbelief as Steve had on the inside.

Harry looked at Steve, Steve looked away.

"All done?" Hargrove asked her. "Ready to roll?"

"Not quite," Sirianna said. "Um… El? I - well, I'm sorry. Truly. I was a shit hole to you—"

Steve grinned a little.

"— and that wasn't fair. Harry and I - we thought, if you wanted to, you could come with us? You're - you know - like family in a way."

As far as apologies went, Steve had heard better. Not that it mattered to the girl who apparently wasn't their sister but had some sort of sick tattoo on her arm like Harry did. El lit up like it was Christmas morning and nodded her head before Sirianna even finished speaking.

"Brilliant," Sirianna said. "Um… Steve? Thank you, for - for letting Harry and El stay. And I'm sorry we sort of took over your house. It's lovely, really."

"Yeah, no problem." Steve released the tight grip he had on the table and forced himself to smile breezily at Sirianna. He didn't mention that it was actually kind of nice to have people over without having to make it a party every time. Steve could do without Hargrove ever returning, but the twins were alright.

"Yeah," Hargrove shouldered Steve on his way around the table - thankfully out the door, "thanks, Stevie."

Steve inhaled slowly, held it until everyone was gone and he was alone inside his house again.

"Fuck you," Steve said in a rush as he exhaled.

Hargrove was a dick.

Steve took a shower and washed the weird down the drain with his shampoo and conditioner. He didn't need to think about Harry - green eyes that freaking glowed when he controlled the wind - or Hargrove - "Queen Steve."

Steve needed to get out of his house, go do something. Tommy might be up to hang out, but he had been a dick on Friday about the twins so Steve wasn't really dying to see him. Nancy though… Nancy might be interested in hanging out.

Nancy was pretty, sweet, smart… and they kind of had a thing going on. Okay, they made out a few times, but Steve liked her!

Her.

Steve liked her.

Nancy was a girl, who Steve liked.

So Steve dressed up a little, put some extra effort in his hair. He brushed his teeth, put some cologne on. Then he had a drink because Hargrove's bullshit was still burning him. Steve picked up the clothes by the pool, Harry's stinging - Steve had cracked up when he jumped in the pool, laughed his ass off when he realized Harry wasn't a bad build for a swimmer, though he didn't have any idea how to do it at first.

Then Steve had another drink to burn away the stupid smile that popped up when he thought about how impressed Harry had been by Steve's dives.

Steve stuffed Harry's sweater under the passenger seat of his car, stashed his bottle of whatever Carol left at his house under his seat. The tips of Steve's fingers were kind of tingling, but he was fine to drive. He wanted to go see Nancy, who was a girl.

Maybe they'd make out. Maybe they'd do it in front of Hargrove's house.

The radio was off - Harry wasn't a big fan of music, noise in general - and Steve turned it all the way up. As loud as it would go. It wasn't too late that Steve would get called on for driving noisily, not yet.

God, but why was Hargrove such a dick? Seriously, what was his issue with Steve? Was he jealous? Jealous that Steve grew up with their classmates and he was the new kid? Maybe Hargrove was the queer, maybe that was why he was always pushing Steve, going out of his way to make contact.

Steve nodded to himself as he drove through streets that were familiar even if they were blurred some. He would need to remember that, point out to Hargrove that Steve wasn't the one always putting his hands on him.

Would it… be weird? Touching a guy? Would it feel the same? Harry probably had soft skin, soft lips…

Steve jerked the steering wheel hard to avoid a mailbox, over corrected and neatly took out a different mailbox. His heart was racing and he gripped the steering wheel extra hard to find a spot to pull over.

There was a gas station with only one other car and Steve pulled in behind the building so he could park and take another drink.

Why did he think that? Why did he think about how it would feel to kiss Harry? Steve didn't want to kiss Harry, he wasn't gay. He wasn't.

Steve needed to think about Nancy. He held the bottle in his hands and closed his eyes to picture it -

Nancy on his lap, her hands in his hair, nails scratching his scalp a little bit. Steve pulling her closer, brushing black hair away and —

No. Damn it.

"Damn it!" Steve slapped the steering wheel. God, why did Hargrove say that shit? It was his fault that Steve felt shaky and sick, it was his fault that Steve suddenly wondered how long he thought about - about —

He wasn't gay.

A little bit drunk, maybe. Not gay.

Steve stumbled inside the gas station to take a leak, grab a bottle of water. He asked for a pack of cigarettes at the counter, slurred a little too much, not that the cashier cared. Steve looked around while they grabbed the pack he asked for and saw some bouquets of flowers, just the thing for Ha — Nancy.

Steve added a dozen roses to his purchase. He hadn't seen Nancy in a few days, they'd make a decent apology gift. Steve would tell her he was sorry for getting distracted, swear it would never happen again, then they could make out in front of Hargrove's house - prove to him that Steve wasn't gay.

Maybe they'd have sex on the hood of his car. Sure, Steve would die, but what a way to go.

Would Harry show up at his funeral? Would he be sad? Would he miss Steve? Would he ever want to k—

Steve turned the radio up so loud that it shook the windows of his car and sang along to whatever song played on the radio.

"BILLIE JEAN IS NOT MY LOVER! SHE'S JUST A GIRL WHO CLAIMS THAT I AM THE ONE!!"

Steve meant to drink the water he bought and instead pulled up to Nancy's house with an empty bottle of liquor and a crack in his chest from all the bullshit. There was another car in the driveway, Byers car, he thought. It didn't matter, Byers could tell everyone that Steve kissed Nancy Wheeler and that he didn't kiss Harry Hammond.

What would it be like though? Why did it matter if Steve did want to kiss Harry,

Was - was he gay? Was Steve a fag?

"Disgusting."

Steve's dad was home, standing in the living room when Steve returned from school. Steve had been excited to see him, he traveled so much for work. Dad had been distracted by the news though so Steve patiently waited on the couch with his book of pages he drew.

Steve was making a comic book, a cool one. The hero had awesome hair and the best smile. His sidekick was his best friend and they did everything together - they beat up bad guys and went to the movies and saved the city before they went back to their secret hideout and stayed up late together watching TV.

The sidekick was awesome - he had long pretty hair and always hugged the hero when he was sad or lonely. He kind of looked like Brian May, or he was supposed to anyway. Brian was the best part of Queen, everyone knew that.

Steve looked up from where he was trying to get the hero's hair just right when his dad sounded angry.

"What's disgusting?" Steve asked.

Dad turned, like he just realized Steve was in the room. He glanced at the book open on Steve's lap and then pointed firmly at the TV. Steve didn't know what the big deal was, there were just a bunch of people on the news, holding signs and chanting.

"They repealed the sodomy law," Dad said. His face twisted up in disgust. "They're saying it's not a crime to be a faggot."

"Oh." Steve knew what being a faggot meant, it was when boys kissed boys. Tommy called him a faggot one day and Steve kicked him, but they were best friends afterwards.

"It's a sin," Dad said, ranting while Steve watched the TV in interest. "It's sure as hell illegal in the eyes of God."

Steve watched the news and the people holding signs were happy, they were all really happy. There were two men the camera kept showing and they were holding hands and laughing.

"What kind of idiots accept this kind of sickness?"

The men in the TV hugged and the camera moved away from them quickly, but Steve saw them kiss. Two men were kissing and Steve felt kind of sick.

"Idiots," Steve said quietly.

"Exactly," Dad nodded. He muted the TV and gave Steve a tired but nice smile. "What are you working on there, Champ?"

Steve closed his comic book, closed the scene where Captain Steve and Badass Brian were hugging after saving the city again.

"Nothing," Steve said, stuffing his book in his bag. "Do you - can we play ball?"

Dad practiced basketball with Steve for an hour before he had to go work in his office. When Steve got to his room he shoved his comic book under the bed and angrily ripped down his Queen posters.

"Nancy?" Steve knocked on Nancy's door with his flowers and he had to hold the edge of the door when he almost fell over.

Or maybe the world was tilting because Harry made it tilt and that was why Steve couldn't stand up right. Maybe Harry was changing the whole world and anyone would think about his smile when Steve told him he was a badass.

Or maybe —

The door flew open and Steve nearly fell inside.

"Steve?" Nancy didn't sound very happy about seeing Steve and, for some reason, it made him giggle. Plenty of other people liked seeing Steve.

Harry liked seeing him, he showed up at his house for no reason and called him to check on him. Harry brought his not-sister to Steve's, slept in his bed, and took his sweater off to jump in the pool with Steve.

Was that normal? Did Harry like Steve?

"Nancy." Steve smiled widely and shoved the flowers at Nancy. "I think I'm gay," he blurted out, loud and clumsy.

Yeah, Steve was probably gay - a fag, queer, homo, unnatural and disgusting.

It was the first time he ever said it out loud.

Steve's smile fell when he thought it over and over - gay, gay, gay. Why? Why Steve? Why did he have to be sick? His chest felt tight and the flip in his stomach made him want to actually be sick.

It was a joke, a sick, wrong, unnatural joke.

"I…"

Nancy's eyes doubled in size when the crack in Steve's chest ripped itself in half and he faltered on the excuse he was about to make. Everything was blurry and everything hurt.

Before Steve could stop himself, the rush of everything flew through the crack and he started sobbing, right on Nancy's porch.

"Nancy?" Jonathan hesitantly walked toward the front door, sure that it was time for him to go. He had seen Steve Harrington pull up and stumble out of his car with roses, he heard him yell for Nancy.

It was nice of Nancy to bring Jonathan's family a casserole, it was nice of her to invite Jonathan back to her place to get away from his house for a while.

But if Steve was there then it was time for Jonathan to go.

"Holy shit." Jonathan stepped up behind Nancy when he heard someone crying hysterically. Jonathan didn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't to see Steve bent in half, clutching the door frame for support, and sobbing.

Shit.

"What happened?" Jonathan asked, thinking of Harry. Was he missing? Jonathan had called the Chief of Police, Chief Hopper, when Sirianna never returned to tell him she found her brother. Hopper said Harry wasn't missing, he was out with friends.

Jonathan had gotten distracted by his mom and her mental breakdown, the hole she made in the house wall, her insistence that Will called her on the phone and lived in the walls.

But if Steve was there and he was crying…

"Um… everything's fine," Nancy said. Jonathan really hoped that Harry wasn't dead because it would make the quiet laughter in Nancy's voice really sick. "Can you help me get him inside? I think he's drunk."

Jonathan looked out at Steve's car that was parked crooked as hell, halfway on the sidewalk, then at Steve himself who was still crying his heart out.

"Yeah, alright," Jonathan agreed, more confused than anything else.

It was kind of insane, but he figured it wasn't as crazy as his mom taking an axe to the walls to rescue his missing brother.

"Byers…" Steve let Jonathan wrap an arm under his shoulders and he fell like dead weight on his side. His hand grabbed Jonathan's shirt tightly though and tried to help stumble through the doorway.

Steve's breath smelled like vodka and he was slurring his words hard. Jonathan wondered what made him get so trashed, then Steve explained pretty easily:

"I'm gay."

So it was kind of equally crazy to Jonathan's mom taking an axe to the house wall.

Chapter Text

Jim was a halfway decent cop, he didn't have a lot of unsolved cases. He was usually able to keep his temper in check, his stomach stayed settled even when he had grizzly crime scenes. People tended to respect him, the other cops followed his orders well enough.

Jim might not be winning any awards for cop of the year, but that wasn't a fucking thing anyway so who cared?

It meant that when Jim woke up Sunday morning and saw that his house was a hell of a lot cleaner than it had been when he went to sleep - and it had been clean then too - it set off some alarms. Jim had assumed that taking home two teenage kids with magic and a fuck ton of trauma would be a pain in the ass.

The only pain he had at far was trying to keep track of ‘em.

Thursday night they didn't get home until midnight. Jim had been at work, but Ms Wentzell across the street called the station to tell Jim that he was being robbed. Callahan took the call, radioed it into Jim. Jim asked for a description, figured there were only two teenagers with black hair who would be walking in his place.

Jim had been out that night late, checking all the worst places he could think of for a little boy. When he didn't find jack or shit, he went home for some sleep. The twins were gone, probably at school, and Jim woke up in time for them to come home and Harry to sneak out his window.

The kid was fifteen, it was a Friday night. Who cared? If he wanted to go meet up with some girl by himself, so be it.

Sirianna had been a mouthy shit about it the next morning, but Jim pat himself on the back for not losing his cool on her. They'd been through some shit, they were scared. If they were a little too clingy to each other, whatever. It was fine.

They both returned that night while Jim had been back out canvassing the woods for Will Byers. He knew it because despite Ms Wentzell being told the twins were staying with him, she called in about another break in.

If nothing else, it was a handy security system. Who needed one of those fancy cameras when Jim had a nosy and insomniac neighbor?

Jim spent the night walking the woods and working his way through a pack of smokes. Until he had evidence to suggest any single theory, there were too many ways that Will Byers's disappearance could have played out.

The best theory was that Lonnie Byers called it right and Will was gay. The kid might have decided Hawkins, Indiana wasn't the place for it and ran off to San Diego or wherever the gays lived in their little peaceful rainbow houses.

The worst theory was that someone saw Will Byers as a real easy target and killed the kid. There were plenty of places to hide a body in Indiana, places where Jim could never check. Not finding Will would leave Joyce in Hell for an eternity, Jim in perpetual purgatory.

There were a few other theories in between the worst and best scenarios.

Jim couldn't ignore the one that tied everything together… the one he privately thought might be his top theory.

Harry and Sirianna Potter appeared in Hawkins in the middle of October. They were quiet for a couple of weeks, didn't make a fuss over at Benny's. They show up at Hawkins High on Tuesday morning, Will Byers went missing that night. Benny was dead the next day.

Jim didn't think the twins were involved necessarily, not since he heard their story and trusted his gut that it was the truth, but they could be the key. They ran from some government sickos who would probably do a lot to get ‘em back, there were a few ways that could be playing out.

Will Byers had dark enough hair, a generally thin and pale build. He could have been nabbed on accident, a mixup if they were looking for Harry. They went to get the right kid, killed Benny.

Or Will Byers was a hostage, Benny a warning, and someone was playing a real sick game with two messed up teenagers.

There wasn't a lack of theories, there was a lack of evidence for any singular theory to stand out more than another.

It was pissing Jim off and he didn't get a lot of sleep Saturday night. Joyce Byers broken voice echoed in his ears, it fucking haunted him in his sleep. Sure, it was a nice reprieve from the usual nightmares, but it didn't make for real sound sleep.

So when he woke up Sunday and saw his place fucking sparkling clean, there were alarm bells. Because Jim didn't ask anyone to clean, didn't expect ‘em to. If they wanted to eat, they'd have to cook. If they needed clean clothes for school, there was a washer in the back room. Those were basic expectations, dusting the TV until it looked brand new was not a basic expectation.

There weren't any blankets or pillows in the living room, which meant whichever kid slept on the couch had already been up for a minute. Jim needed to get them a bunk-bed set, they couldn't swap off on a couch forever.

Not that Jim felt real great about sticking a teenage boy and girl in one little bedroom. They were already too close, too dependent on each other. Jim wasn't trying to rip ‘em apart or anything, but space might be a good idea.

That could wait though, Jim would have time for shit like that once he found Will Byers. He'd like to solve Benny's murder - because it damn well had been murder in his opinion - as well, but he had a strong suspicion that solving one would solve the other.

"Anyone home?" Jim walked through his own unrecognizable house toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. There weren't any kids in the kitchen, but there was a plate of food left on the counter.

Eggs, bacon, three eggo waffles right beside a note -

Be home. For Hop.

It wasn't a question which of the twins left it, Jim doubted that it was Sirianna. He did wonder how they managed to cook anything though. Jim had left a twenty on the kitchen counter Thursday night, something for them to buy food with, and it was still there.

Jim wasn't going to look a gift plate in the mouth though. The note clearly - alright, it was clumsy and shaky writing - said it was for Jim.

There wasn't any coffee in the house, but there was half a carton of milk. Jim added some liquor, something to wake him up, and settled down to eat at his suspiciously clean table.

The twins needed some fucking hobbies, something normal, safe. Something separate, give them each something to focus on.

Harry didn't seem like the sport type, but Sirianna had enough fire to do something sporty. Maybe Harry could find a club or something, Jim would have to look into it.

Was Boy Scouts still a thing? If nothing else, Harry could have his fire starter badge at his first meeting.

Jim snorted at his own stupid thought and dug in the breakfast. It wasn't bad, damn good really. Jim ate, drank, and refined the list in his head on where he hadn't chest for Will Byers yet.

The woods on the west side needed combed through. It would be best if Jim could get a dog from a nearby precinct, but the west woods were tricky with invisible property lines for Hawkins Lab through them. There were a few ponds in Hawkins that Jim still wanted to search, all three of them were privately owned, but Jim didn't think anyone in town would say Jim couldn't search around a pond for a missing local boy.

And if they said no then Jim could revisit his theories again, put some focus on anyone who acted like they had something to hide.

Jim grabbed his notebook from his work jacket by the door and returned to the table to scribble out a list.

West woods, ponds, east side of the quarry.

Once he exhausted those options, really exhausted them, then Will Byers was either dead over a national missing child.

Jim had an old map of Hawkins in his newly organized junk drawer and he marked it off with careful grid lines. He had been drawing X's over the places he searched and had been translating the coordinates for the places he hadn't to his notebook when the front door opened.

Two pairs of feet, the rustle of a paper bag. Jim guessed the twins went shopping and planned on asking them how when they walked in the kitchen.

It was Harry, Jim was mostly right. Harry had a brown paper bag in his bare fucking arms. Jim forgot, actually, with the missing kid and dead friend and all, but he meant to pull some cash from his savings and send the twins to buy clothes. Benny hadn't been a wealthy man, Jim figured he had picked up whatever clothes he could afford.

Jim wasn't wealthy, but he had a decent saving account that received a monthly check from the Army for his service and another that carried half of the interest on Sarah's life insurance. Jim never touched the account, didn't want to. His paychecks covered his usual costs, but he could take some out for clothes for the twins.

It seemed like they would be staying a while.

Harry stopped in the kitchen doorway when he saw Jim and his eyes skirted around, the kid was skittish. The kid with him - a much younger kid - wasn't as bad. She - he? Jim had a hard time telling with the childish features and shaved head - stared boldly at Jim with big eyes.

Jim cleared his throat, God, he wished the kid would speak to him.

"You trade your sister in for a new one?" he asked.

Harry shook his head and took tiny little nervous steps in the kitchen with the bag in his hands held up like a shield.

"Siri's at Chrissy's, she'll be back at six o'clock, no later," Harry said, parroting it too quickly for him to not have memorized it. "This is El."

El?

Jim looked back at the other kid, figured El had to be a girl's name. He didn't recognize it though, which was probably good.

"El?" Jim looked at the girl and really hoped Harry was socially stunted and not making a habit out of hanging out with little girls. "What's your last name?"

El looked at Harry, Harry had his body turned to the side and made it real difficult on himself as he unloaded some groceries from his bag.

"She - she doesn't have one. I found her, in the woods."

Jim inhaled, he exhaled. Jim grabbed a cigarette for good measure, took a couple hits before he responded.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Sirianna had a mouth on her, but damn if Jim didn't regret thinking the twins needed to make friends. Harry did a lot of stuttering, stammering, and used as few words as humanly possible to explain to Jim that apparently he had a third kid with magic in his house.

And trauma, because of course the girl had the sane fucking brand on her arm that Harry did.

Jim rubbed his forehead when Harry finished explaining that Eleven was homeless and on the run from the same sick fucks that had Harry and Sirianna for years.

There really wasn't enough coffee or cigarettes in the world for the shit storm Jim somehow found himself in.

"This is awesome," Jim said, drawing the word out sarcastically. "Let me guess," he looked at the girl who hadn't moved an inch the whole time Harry talked, all four minutes. "Dead parents?"

"Papa." El said one word, soft and with some obvious effort. Then she looked across the room to Harry, pointed at her left arm.

"He's - er…" Harry tilted his head and squinted at El. It was like the two of them were having some secret fucking conversation right in front of Jim. "One of them?"

El nodded.

"No parents," Harry said, deigning to speak to Jim again. It was a miracle.

No, of course not. Parents and good guardians went looking when their kid was missing. Joyce Byers was a good parent.

"Any chance you saw this kid from wherever you escaped?" Jim pulled the photograph of Will Byers from where he had it tucked in his notebook to show El. Will went missing Tuesday night, Harry found El Friday night. It was a long shot, not impossible.

"Will." El looked at Harry again. "Them."

Jim also watched Harry, the kid was two degrees easier to read than El. Harry's eyebrows rose some, his arm twitched.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Jim pushed when Harry went right back to wiping down the fucking boxes of groceries before he put them in the cabinet. The kid had issues, but Jim needed answers. "What's oh?"

"Oh…" Harry paused, froze for a second in what Jim thought might have been real fear. "He's dead."

"What?" Jim's heart sank - he didn't want Joyce to know that pain, he didn't. "Harry, hey, kid, this is fucking important. STOP CLEANING AND EXPLAIN THAT TO ME!" he barked when Harry kept cleaning the fucking groceries.

Both kids completely froze and Jim would feel like a dick later, feel like his old man who yelled more than he had ever spoke, but Harry just told him that the boy Jim had been searching for was dead and that took precedence.

It didn't mean Jim felt good about it when Harry's shoulders curled up and he immediately complied with a monotone "Yes, sir."

Harry stared at the floor and El moved silently to his side while Harry explained himself.

"Will's a muggle, if they have him then they're going to kill him. They're going to hurt him and then kill him."

They were going to hurt him - like they hurt Harry, Sirianna, and El - then they were going to kill him. And Will Byers didn't have magic, couldn't escape.

Which meant someone was going to have to go after him.

"Show me where you found her," Jim told Harry, making his voice sharp and commanding. The kid didn't need barked after, but there was another kid who might die soon if Jim didn't do something.

Harry wasn't the one who stepped up to the table, El was. She stood out of arms reach and her eyes scanned the map before she slowly pointed at a section of unmarked grid squares.

"Operation Dimension," she said dully. "Lab."

Lab? Jim looked at the map where El pointed…

Hawkins Lab.

"That's where Will is?" Jim asked her. "You're sure?"

"Operation Dimension," El said.

Whatever the fuck that meant.

"Right." Jim gathered his belongings, paused when he went to put Will's photo in his wallet. "How'd you buy that food?" he asked Harry.

Harry didn't meet his eyes, shrugged at the floor silently. So he probably stole it, used magic, something.

"This," Jim pulled another twenty from his wallet and held it up so Harry and El could both see it, "is for fucking groceries. We are not stealing, magicking, or begging for food. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Okay, Jim had to deal with that, but he needed to go check out a real lead on Joyce's missing kid first.

Jim left Harry and El at home with strict instructions to stay put. He radioed into the station, letting Powell know he was headed out on a possible lead at Hawkins Lab.

The Lab had been in Hawkins before Jim's parents even were. The official story was that it was a Department of Energy, a research lab made to look into new sources of renewable energy. It sounded like a farce to Jim when he first heard of it, but it was technically just outside Hawkins, in its own unmanned government owned plot of land.

Jim never had a reason to drive out to it before that day, but he flipped on his lights and drove straight there. It took about ten minutes, ten minutes that Jim spent coming up with a story that didn't involve two runaway witches hiding out in his house.

There was an official gate that Jim drove up to, the entire compound was locked down more than an energy research lab should need to be. There were guards with M16's lined up when Jim pulled up, for Christ's sake.

"Name and business." One of the guard's approached the car and Jim had his badge out, his ID along with it.

"Hawkins Chief of Police, Jim Hopper," Jim said. "I'm here to talk to your head of security about a breach in the property."

"Remain in your vehicle," the guard said. He took three steps away from the car and spoke in a radio clipped to his shoulder. Jim kept his face passive, scanned the area and counted the sharpshooters across the property, stationed on the roof; he counted the guards turned casually toward him, their fingers trained on their weapons.

Twenty-seven guards, twelve of them being sharpshooters, gave away the idea of any energy lab being on the property.

The first guard approached Jim's car, took his badge and ID.

"You'll get those back when you leave," he said. He waved to a control booth, pointed at the gate. "Drive through, take a left. Security will meet you at door five."

"Will do," Jim said, staying calm and friendly. "Thanks."

Now, Jim might just be the Chief of Police for what had been the most dull town in Indiana, but he wasn't a fucking moron. What kind of place took his ID and only returned it when he left? That told Jim that maybe not everyone did leave.

Jim drove through and scanned the property as he went. It was extensive, highly secured, heavily guarded. It would take some fucking magic for a kid to escape out of there and it would have been real difficult for a kid like Will to have snuck on the property. If Will was there, he was there because they wanted him to be.

And if Harry was right, they didn't have any good reason to have the kid.

There was a man in a suit waiting for Jim by door five, they didn't plan on letting him inside at all then. There were five guards with him - Jim thought they should have sent more. He didn't need to force his way on the property, not yet. All he wanted to do was scope the place out, get a feel for it.

They wouldn't admit to kidnapping a child and Jim wouldn't break in during the daylight.

"Hello." The man in the suit stepped up when Jim climbed out of his car. He offered him a hand and a sharp nod. "I'm Pete Michaels, Head of Security for Hawkins Lab. The gate said you're here about an alleged security breach?"

Alleged. It was government wordplay, the place stunk of it. Jim Hopper was the last fucking person to be surprised by governments torturing kids, testing on them, abusing them. Every country in the world did it - Jim didn't like it being in his back yard though.

"Yeah." Jim reached for his wallet slowly, didn't want to give any itching fingers a reason to pull a trigger, and pulled out the photo of Will. He handed it to Michaels with a ‘worried but stupid' frown. "This kid is missing, he's a local boy. His friends said that they saw him on your property the day after he went missing. This is a big place," Jim looked around, pretending like he thought Will might be in plain sight, "plenty of places for a kid to hide."

Will Byers was there - or he had been. Jim could tell from the dismissive glance Michaels gave the photo. A man who didn't know the kid would at least spend a second or two looking at him, Michaels only glanced long enough to recognize him then returned the photo to Jim.

"His friends are wrong," he said calmly. "Or lying, I'm sure kids do that. We've had no breaches in security here. Our system is state of the art. If there was a child here, I would know."

Jim bet he would.

"Any chance I can have a look at your tapes?" Jim asked. "Just so I can tell them I know they're full of it?"

Michaels hesitated for a second, tapped his foot - had to be a tell.

"What day did the kids say they saw the boy here?"

"Mmm…" Jim scratched his beard, acted like he couldn't remember. "Had to be… Tuesday? Maybe Wednesday? Hell," Jim chuckled and pulled a cigarette from his pocket to light, "I barely know what today is."

Michaels wanted to sigh, Jim could see it. He could also see that Tuesday was right on the mark - Michaels tapped the toe of his loafer when Jim said Tuesday. They had Will Byers right from the start.

"You're with Hawkins Police Department?" Michaels checked. "I'll send the tapes once I've pulled them. It's not instantaneous, you know."

Nah, editing wouldn't be instantaneous, would it?

Jim nodded, kept up the friendly and dim appearance as he thanked him, offered up the station address for delivery of the tapes, and left. Jim received his ID and badge back at the gate and clocked the guns trained on him as he pulled away.

Jim would get those tapes, see how well they covered their tracks, then he would be back. And when he returned, they'd need a hell of a lot more than a dozen sharpshooters to keep him out.

The police station was quiet when Jim pulled in. Powell reported that there had been one call for a noise complaint on Cherry Lane that turned out to be nothing and that Joyce Byers had called three times.

"She's losing it, Chief," Powell said - his official fucking opinion, it seemed. "She says her kids in her walls and calling her on the phone."

Jim groaned and rolled the stressed muscles out of his neck and shoulders. What did the girl call it? Project Dimension? What kind of magic shit was that?

"Yeah, alright." Jim sighed and wished he didn't have to go lie to Joyce's face. "I'll stop by and see her on my way home. Hawkins Lab is supposed to be sending some tapes, call me the second they arrive."

"Will do!"

Jim grabbed the bottle of scotch from his desk, tucked it in his jacket, took the checkbook from his top drawer too for good measure. Joyce's house was on Jim's route back to his, it wasn't a nuisance to stop by. The nuisance was that Joyce was sick with worry, terrified for her son, and Jim didn't have any good news at all.

No news he could share, nothing that would help Joyce sleep any that night. What could he say?

‘Hey, seems like your son was taken by some magical branch of government that likes to brand, torture, and kill kids. I hope I can get him back, might not though. Anyway, have a good night!'?

The best Jim could do was promise her that he wouldn't stop looking, that finding Will was his top priority.

Joyce's driveway had an extra car in it when Jim pulled up. It was the maroon BMW that the Harrington kid drove. The passenger window was down, Jim was pretty sure it was fucking vomit that was spilled down the side of it.

Which didn't even compare to the tarped over hole in the side of Joyce's house.

Jim paused by the tarp, went ahead and took a quick drink of his scotch. Joyce must have taken a fucking axe to her wall, she actually believed her son was in the fucking walls.

Not that Jim had a lot of room to judge - he had kids filled up with magic and trauma hanging around his house. Maybe Project Dimension transposed kids from the land of reality to the walls of their houses. What did Jim know? Magic existed.

Jim lit another cigarette on his way up to the porch, tracked the lines in the dirt of the yard that made him think the passenger of Harrington's car must have been trashed - drunk enough to throw up and get dragged inside Joyce's place. It might have been Jonathan Byers, or it could have been Steve Harrington himself.

It didn't matter, just a brief moment of something normal for Jim to consider.

Jim knocked, leaned against the creaking post holding the roof of the porch up. He looked up and saw a few loose shingles, a few others that looked recently nailed down. He wouldn't doubt that it was Joyce herself who did it, she never had been one to worry about a man.

Not until she married Lonnie Byers. Lonnie had never treated Joyce like a partner, always a trophy to show up to his shit friends. Jim never understood what Joyce saw in him, it was her relationship with Lonnie that ended any semblance of a friendship they had.

Lonnie's decision, Jim was sure. He had kept a tight leash on Joyce, an alarm that Jim called him out on from the start.

Maybe if things had been different…

Jim shook his head, brushed it off. If things were different, he never would have met Diane, never had Sarah. Things weren't different, things were fucked and getting more so every damn day.

It was Joyce's older son, the one who looked a damn lot like Lonnie had when he was sixteen, that answered the door. He stepped outside and closed it carefully behind him, not letting it make more than a muffled sound.

"Chief." Jonathan nodded respectfully, though his eyes were filled with worry and had bags the size of Texas beneath them. "Did you - do you have any news?"

Jim wished he did. Jim wished more than anything that he had some news to share with the kid - something that would salvage the wreck his life had clearly become. Joyce was chopping holes in the house, Jonathan looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and Jim heard rumors at the station that gossipers in Hawkins were speculating that Jonathan killed his little brother.

It was rough, hellish circumstances for any kid, Jim wished he had good news.

"No news," Jim said, ripping that bandaid off immediately. Jonathan wilted so hard that Jim thought he might have to catch him. He didn't seem hungover though, so Jim assumed it was Harrington that needed a ride and someplace to stay.

"The guys at the station said your mom called, I thought I'd stop by and talk to her," Jim told him. "She in?"

"She's asleep," Jonathan said flatly, the disappointment rolling off him in nearly visible waves. "I had to - to… well, she's asleep."

If Jonathan had to do something to get Joyce to sleep, Jim wasn't there to call him on it. Jim was the last one to judge the way a person found sleep.

"Yeah?" Jim leaned back, sent a pointed look at the tarp flapping in the wind. "I'm guessing she's not doing so hot then?"

Jonathan looked up and shrugged.

"Would you be?"

Would Jim knock a hole in a wall if he thought it might help him get his child back? He would. Jim would knock a hole in the fucking skies if he could have his baby back.

"Probably not," he said evenly. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Find my brother," Jonathan said bluntly. He waved at the wall dismissively, shrugged again. "I don't care about the hole, I don't care if it's cold. I just - we need Will back, please."

Day one on the job they would say - don't make promises. A cop couldn't promise to find the bad guy, they couldn't promise that everything would work out just right. If Jim could play God, he'd do everything differently. But he wasn't God and he couldn't make promises.

"I'm doing everything I can," he said - nothing but the truth. "Why don't you try and get some rest, kid? Your mom needs you, you're no good if you're half-dead."

Jonathan nodded, didn't make any promises he couldn't keep either. Jim didn't like walking away from him, he didn't like that a teenager was carrying the weight of his entire family on his shoulders.

If Jim were God, there wouldn't be missing kids or cancer, there wouldn't be brands on children or torture.

Jim wasn't God though, just a man.

There were a few things he could get right that day though, a few fixtures he needed to make in his own home.

It wasn't quite six o'clock yet so Jim didn't expect to see Sirianna at home. She was though, bouncing around the kitchen with too much energy while she cooked something that smelled like pasta on the stove and rattled on about something to her silent audience.

"And then Tammy said that Chrissy was a bitch and Chrissy told Tammy that she was the bitch in charge, so if she didn't like it then she could leave. And guess what? Harry, guess what? She did!"

"Bye," El said, her robotic voice making Sirianna laugh briefly.

"Exactly," Sirianna said. She turned to glance at El, spotted Jim, and her brightness dimmed.

It was starting to give Jim a fucking complex, being the least trusted person in his own house.

Harry had shifted his chair to the side the second Jim opened the front door, Jim heard the chair scooting. Harry nodded and seemed to be tracking everyone's movements while he squinted at a book in his hands.

Jim focused on him, the twin that didn't seem to hate him for being the wrong caretaker. Sirianna had heartbreak in her eyes every time she saw Jim, a fresh reminder to them both that Benny had been over the moon for that girl. Jim couldn't overcome that, he figured time would have to. Harry was skittish, scared when he was around Jim. It was probably a man thing, probably a person in authority thing.

Jim could start with him. He figured earning one of their trust would soften the way with the other. It might ease the pains of cohabitation for the next three years anyway.

"You ever had an eye exam?" Jim asked him lightly, figuring the answer was no. The kid did a lot of squinting, it gave Jim a headache to see.

"Why would you ask him that?" Sirianna asked immediately, getting defensive when there wasn't a reason to. "There's nothing wrong with Harry's eyes."

Harry didn't say anything, though Jim saw his fingers tightened on his book.

"Does it hurt to read?" Jim asked Harry, ignoring Sirianna's overprotective attitude. "Your eyes feel strained?"

A few seconds passed, the girls both stared at Harry and he clenched his jaw. Then a nod, a small one.

"Yeah, glasses," Jim said. He pulled his checkbook from his pocket and tossed it on the table, in front of Harry. "After school tomorrow, find a ride and find an optometrist- eye doctor. Get an exam, pay with a check. And get some clothes too."

Jim looked at the two other kids - the younger one in a pair of grey baggy sweats and the girl with a face full of makeup and what looked like someone else's gym clothes. He sighed and tried to figure out where the extra kid was going to sleep.

Did they make triple bunk beds?

"For all three of you," Jim said. He pointed at Harry, making sure that he was paying attention. "You're in charge of that checkbook, Harry. Not your sister, not El, you." Sirianna was full of fake confidence and Jim could see that Harry would passively lay back and let her run his life. But Sirianna wouldn't always be there, it sounded like she was already fitting in and making friends. It was Harry who needed to be in charge once in a while, see that he could do it.

"You got it?" Jim asked him.

Harry reached out and slid the checkbook toward him without ever looking away from his book.

"Yes, sir," he said.

That was another thing…

"Don't call me ‘sir'," Jim said, making his way to the table where Harry and El were seated. "You don't have to call me sir. It's unnecessary, alright?"

Harry started to open his mouth, Jim would bet that he was about to say ‘yes, sir' again. The kid had an auto response to authority, Jim could empathize, but it had to break at home.

"Okay," Harry said instead. He glanced at his sister and Jim could see her staring hard at him, probably overthinking every single word that Jim said. When Harry went back to his book, Sirianna rocked on her shoes for a moment.

"Um… do you like spaghetti?" she asked, apparently talking to Jim. She wasn't smiling at him, there was still that shadow of grief that Jim would never be Benny in her eyes, but there was something there.

Jim thought it might be a truce.

"I could eat spaghetti," he said, accepting the truce. "And," he looked at all three kids, not as sure on which one had the obsessive need to clean as some sort of anxiety disorder, "I'll do the fucking dishes. Just so we're all clear here."

Jim wasn't God, he was a halfway decent cop, but Jim used to be a parent, a damn good one. If he had to do the dishes every once in a while to keep three kids from dusting his fucking TV, so be it.

Chapter Text

"See this little one? It's going to point at the three and that's when I'll be home."

"Three."

"Three."

El made a nearly silent sound of distress and stared up at Harry with big sad eyes. Sirianna was so - so… proud? Yes, Sirianna was so proud of her brother though because he hitched his bag up on his shoulder and shook his head.

"You'd hate it," Harry told El. He pointed again at the clock that he took off the wall of the living room to give El. "Three."

El pulled her legs up to her chest with the clock smashed between her torso and knees and nodded rather miserably. It was sad, Sirianna very nearly said that Harry should stay home with her.

Harry would like that, Sirianna was sure. El would like it as well. Sirianna would not like it though and neither would Chief Hopper who very firmly told them they had to go to school before he left for work that morning.

He also sighed at them and made ‘a face' —

Sirianna groaned when someone knocked on the door. It had already been rather uncomfortable, sharing a bed with Harry and El.

How could she not though? When Harry told her about his nightmares and the fears that kept him awake when they were apart? He only mentioned it for a second, but if he mentioned it at all then it was important to him. So Sirianna happily piled in bed with Harry and El and was once again kicked all night long.

They had nightmares, Sirianna could tell. She did not. Ever.

Sirianna lifted her head in time to see the door being shoved, the dresser in front of it sliding as it moved. Chief Hopper poked his head in and narrowed his eyes at the bed.

Harry had a leg dangling off the side, El was curled in Harry's side like a sweet little kitten. Sirianna had El's legs trapping hers to the bed.

"Seriously?" Chief Hopper whispered loudly, obviously referring to them all sharing a bed. "There's a fucking couch and recliner."

There was, but Harry couldn't sleep without Sirianna around. And it wasn't kind to make El sleep alone when she would be scared and wanting Harry.

Sirianna said nothing, she didn't want to wake up the other two before she had to.

"Jesus Christ." Chief Hopper sighed and then made a face. It wasn't necessarily angry, but it certainly wasn't happy. "Whatever. You and Harry need to go to school, take your new sister shopping with you afterward. Harry's in charge, got it?"

Sirianna couldn't fathom why Chief Hopper would want Harry to be in charge. If Harry were truly in charge, they would never go shopping or to get him an eye exam.

"Sure," she said placatingly. "Um…" she tilted her head, thought Chief Hopper seemed to be headed to work. "Have a good day?" she offered.

Chief Hopper snorted at her.

So they had to go to school and Sirianna was so proud of Harry for taking care of El before they left. He gave her a clock to keep track of the time, he laid out food and drinks in the kitchen for her.

It reminded Sirianna of how he used to dote on their owl, Hedwig. Except El wasn't a bird, or their sister, but a scared girl who really was quite sweet in her own strange and silent way.

"We'll see you at three," Sirianna told El when she heard Billy's car horn beep outside. "Don't forget to take a shower and eat, okay?"

El stared at Harry pleadingly and Harry gently shook his head.

"Hop said I had to go," Harry said quietly. He reached out to squeeze El's fingers briefly. "You'd hate it."

Like Harry did, was what he didn't say. Harry hated school, he hated the teasing and the cruel comments. Harry hated when Sirianna let go of his hand and Harry - Harry…

Harry hated feeling as if he were being left behind.

"If you're too old to share a bed with me, but I'm not… does - it doesn't make any sense. We're the same age?"

Sirianna wasn't trying to leave him behind. It was so difficult. It was impossible to walk the line she was on. Harry might feel better about life, about freedom, if he had the things he used to have - classes he enjoyed, friends to laugh with, something to occupy him. But if it was making him unhappy then what was the point in trying to force those things?

It was an impossible line and Sirianna didn't know what was best for him.

"We have to go," Sirianna said when there was another honk, somehow sounding rather impatient. She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled gently. "We'll be back," she promised El.

"Three," Harry called over his shoulder.

Sirianna heard El's quiet little "Three" as they hurried for the front door and it made her sad. Harry was right though, El would hate school. And it might not be safe for her to even go - not if they were close to where she had been held at as Harry sort of told her was true.

It was all a mess, though Harry oddly thought that Chief Hopper would somehow fix it. He had filled Sirianna in on what she missed while she had been with Chrissy, then said that ‘Hop' was going to rescue Will Byers.

Sirianna highly doubted that anyone could rescue Will Byers if he was taken by the White Coats, but she hoped he could all the same.

"Are you ready?" Sirianna asked Harry, trying to make it sound all very exciting. Harry sort of mimicked Sirianna sometimes, maybe if she was more upbeat, more peppy, then Harry would act happier.

If he acted happy, maybe he would eventually be happy.

Harry nodded. Unhappily.

Sirianna would try harder. There were lots of reasons for her to be happy - she was free, Harry was free, El was free. Sirianna had a friend, she had a first kiss, she could be a part of Chrissy's cheerleading team if her audition during gym went well.

Will Byers had been taken by White Coats and Benny had been killed… but Sirianna couldn't do anything about that. Sirianna couldn't save Will Byers or bring Benny back.

She could paste a smile on her face and trick Harry into being happy though.

It wasn't altogether hard at the moment, not with Billy's jacket still wrapped around her - she might never return it. And certainly not with Billy leaning out his window, staring at her through his dark sunglasses.

"Better move it, kitten, or you'll walk," he yelled over the rock music playing.

"Terrifying threat, really," Sirianna drawled. She opened the passenger door and moved the seat so Harry could get in the back with Max. She stretched up on her tiptoes, pretended to squint toward the school. "What is it? Four blocks? Five?"

Billy shifted the car in drive and jerked it forward, causing Sirianna to yelp with a laugh as she had been holding on the open door.

"You shit hole!" Sirianna started to quickly climb in the car only for Billy to drive it forward again. "Billy!"

It was hard to not laugh, it was ridiculous.

"God damn, are you getting in?" Billy complained. "We're going to be late. Can't be late, you've got that shiny medal of attendance coming."

Sirianna tried to glare at him and then quickly jumped in the car just as he had been about to pull off again. She slammed the door, checked in the backseat - Harry was staring out the window, Max looked - well, rather shocked actually.

"Your brother is an arse," Sirianna told her.

"Step-brother," Max and Billy said at the exact same time.

Sirianna really didn't understand the difference - step-brother still had the word brother in it? It probably wasn't her business though, and she had a more pressing issue.

"Are you busy today?" Sirianna asked Billy, hoping very much that he wasn't. "I don't know - um… if there's a bigger town close by? Harry needs an eye exam, Chief Hopper told us to ‘find a ride and take care of it'."

Technically he told Harry to find a ride, carry a checkbook, and to deal with it all alone. Which was daft. If it were up to Harry to find them a ride, they would have to walk and Sirianna didn't know how far it might be. Hawkins didn't seem likely to have an eye doctor or a clothes store.

… a clothes store.

"Today?" Billy hummed and lit a cigarette, one he passed to Sirianna before lighting himself another. "Nah, I'm free."

"Billy," Max spoke up from the backseat and she leaned forward, "You can't today, remember?"

"Maxiiiiine," Billy sang his sister's name in a way that managed to be mocking. "Shut the fuck up."

"But your dad said—"

"Oh shit!" Billy slammed on the brakes, knocking everyone forward before he abruptly sped up, pushing them back in the seats. "Did you see that? Fucking crazy!"

Max huffed and settled back in her seat with another muttered comment about Billy's dad. Sirianna checked on Harry quickly, annoyed that Billy had jerked her brother around, and saw that his eyes were closed and his head was tilted forward on the glass.

"Nevermind," Sirianna said, sinking down in her seat. "I'll ask Steve."

Steve and Harry were friends, if nothing else. And Sirianna couldn't ask Jonathan, not with his brother — it just wasn't right to ask him.

"I said I'd do it," Billy said. He didn't, actually.

"Steve doesn't jerk my brother around in his car," Sirianna said, cooling her voice. It didn't matter how fit Billy was or how much Sirianna liked him, if he didn't care about Harry's safety then Sirianna wouldn't ride in his car again.

Billy, for whatever stupid reason, snorted. Sirianna was sick of being snorted at.

"You are an arse," she told him, scowling at him and purposefully blowing a lungful of smoke at his face.

"I must be going deaf." Billy cupped his hand around his ear and leaned toward Sirianna as he pulled in the middle school parking lot. "You said I've got a great ass? Thanks, kitten, yours is fucking fantastic."

Sirianna turned a dark red color, darker than Max's hair that flew behind her as she positively ran from the car when Billy moved just enough to let her. Sirianna looked at Harry, but he still seemed far away.

Chief Hopper would put Harry in charge of such important tasks - why didn't Sirianna know Harry's eyes needed examined?? - on a day when Harry didn't want to be there.

Billy turned back out of the middle school parking lot and his voice relaxed with Max gone.

"I'll drive you," he said. He placed his hand on Sirianna's knee and there was a thrill at the contact, a little spark that traveled from her knee to her chest. "I won't hurt a hair on baby bro's head."

"You have to swear," Sirianna huffed. It wasn't a joke, it wasn't silly. Cars were very dangerous, Billy couldn't slam on his brakes and act crazy behind the wheel when Harry was in the car. He shouldn't do it with his own sister or himself either.

Billy rolled his eyes, Sirianna couldn't be sure with his sunglasses but it seemed like he rolled them.

"The shit I do for you," he said. It was sort of sarcastic and quiet, but… but it was also sort of romantic. Billy didn't say anything else until he parked, very carefully actually, but then he turned to her and flipped his sunglasses down so she could see his eyes.

"I swear," he said.

Sirianna smiled slowly, feeling sort of giddy at Billy's swear. Billy didn't seem to take many things seriously, but Sirianna needed him to take Harry's safety seriously. It was no laughing matter and even if Harry hit his head on the window, Sirianna would be furious for him to get a headache.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it.

"Don't mention it," Billy said casually. He squeezed Sirianna's knee where his hand rested and smirked at her. "Wanna skip first hour with me?"

Very much so.

"I can't, Harry needs me," Sirianna quipped. "I'll see you - um…"

"At lunch," Billy said when she trailed off. "Sit with me."

Sirianna's smile wasn't faked then - it was very, very real.

English was Sirianna and Harry's first class of the day and Sirianna subtly watched Harry during the class. It kept her from having to look at Jonathan too often, she was sure he would see her guilt and grief that she knew where his brother was if she did look at him.

And Harry's eyes were bad, they were bad and Sirianna never noticed before. Harry opened the textbook when they were all told to, going through the motions, and when he tried reading it then Sirianna could see what Chief Hopper must have seen the night before.

Harry squinted. He was squinting at his textbook. After a few seconds of that, he noticed Sirianna watching him and simply closed it.

‘Sorry,' he mouthed silently before laying his head on his book and closing his eyes.

Sirianna stretched her leg out, twined their ankles together.

Harry didn't need to apologize. He needed to be happy.

Their second class was better, Harry must have napped or he really enjoyed their prompt they were meant to write because after Sirianna whispered the prompt off the board, his hand was flying as he wrote.

It was an interesting prompt, though Sirianna felt more sad than anything as she followed it…

If I could talk to my first best friend in life, I would tell him thank you. I would tell him thank you for being my friend, thank you for liking just Sirianna. I would tell him that I miss him, I miss pillow fights in the common room, and I miss sneaking around and laughing together at night.

Sirianna wondered what Ron would be doing while she wrote during class, having to pause occasionally when their teacher explained different ways to express emotion through writing.

What OWL classes did Ron take? Did he still think Hermione Granger was the worst? Was he happy when Ginny started Hogwarts or did it mean that there was yet another Weasley for him to compete against?

Did he miss her? Did he ever think about Christmas morning when they ate a whole case of chocolate frogs together and then Ron threw up during their snowball fight?

It was a long letter, full of questions and carefully altered memories.

"Did you know the teacher reads those?" Harry asked Sirianna when class ended. He ripped his paper out of his notebook and hastily shoved it in his pocket while Sirianna sighed.

"I assumed so," she said patiently. It was a class, their notebooks stayed in the room. It was why Sirianna never mentioned magic or anything that would cause questions.

"Did you not know that?" Sirianna asked. Harry shook his head and Sirianna linked their arms together for their walk to pre-algebra. "That's okay, I don't think she reads them very carefully. Do you want to sit with Chrissy in pre-algebra? She said we could. She's really nice, Har, you'll like her."

Harry made a very soft sound and Sirianna pretended that it was total agreement.

"Brilliant!" She hugged Harry closer to her side and made sure they made it through the corridor without being jostled. They usually sat toward the back, but Chrissy said —

And she did.

Right beside where Chrissy sat in the middle of the classroom were two open desks, one beside her and one just behind her. Chrissy smiled and waved and Sirianna was quick to return the smile, quicker to pull Harry over to the desks.

"Oh my gosh, I have so much to tell you!" Chrissy whispered as soon as Sirianna sat beside her. "So Tammy called Katie and Katie called Lisa and Lisa called me, right? And she said that cheer is a waste of time and totally tried to get everyone else to quit the team. So I called Jason…"

Sirianna settled in and listened intently while Chrissy caught her up on the - actually rather confusing - gossip about the other girls that might be Sirianna's teammates. Sirianna didn't think that cheerleading would be much fun, it wasn't exactly thrilling, was it? But when she went to practice with Chrissy on Sunday…

Chrissy seemed to be a more strict captain than Oliver Wood had been, which had been entertaining to watch. The other girls on the team were sweating by the end of their practice and Sirianna missed that, she missed being sore and happy from an excellent workout.

It would - it would be amazing if she could take the open spot on the team… Sirianna wasn't very hopeful, but Chrissy said that she only needed to bring high energy, a bright smile, and ‘good attitude' to the ‘emergency tryouts' that day.

Sirianna didn't think she had any of those things really, so she really wasn't hopeful.

The girls kept up their conversation that had been paused during algebra on their way to home economics. Billy passed them in the corridor and winked at Sirianna, setting Chrissy off in giggles.

"He's like hot scary," Chrissy said. "Do you like him, Harry?"

Harry tripped over his feet when Chrissy leaned past Sirianna to smile sweetly at him.

"Er… what?" Harry shook his head, clearly not expecting to be asked anything.

"Billy?" Chrissy repeated herself, staying so perfectly polite. "What do you think about him?"

"I don't," Harry said. "I don't think about him."

Sirianna looked at Harry's serious expression, then Chrissy's confused one, and she laughed again. It wasn't a laugh to make Harry laugh, it was just funny.

It was turning out to be such a lovely day, one where Sirianna didn't feel forced into smiling, that she helped Chrissy scoot their tables together during their fourth hour class. Everyone had made their shopping lists for their project, all they were meant to do was write out instructions for baking.

They could do that with Chrissy and Steve - it wasn't exactly difficult.

Sirianna was seated across from Chrissy, beside Harry, and had a notebook open, though she was busier talking than writing, when Steve walked in. Chrissy waved at him and Steve - Steve gave Harry a funny look.

"I totally forgot!" Chrissy grabbed Sirianna's arm and leaned over to hiss at her very quietly. "We've got to talk after school, I might have news with a capital N. Jason says I'm crazy, but I told you I get feelings about things."

"Okay," Sirianna said, bemused but excited. "Oh, wait," Sirianna couldn't meet after school. "I've got things to do today, can we - can we talk tomorrow?"

Chrissy nodded solemnly before leaning back in her seat and smiling breezily at Steve.

"Hello," she said brightly. "How are you?"

Steve slumped down in this chair and flipped up the hood of his sweater, electing to lay his head down rather than answer.

So not well, probably.

It made Sirianna nervous, he had seen Harry… he didn't say anything, Harry said it didn't matter, but what if it did? What if Steve thought that Harry was dangerous and that was why he was acting oddly?

Or maybe he was just mimicking Harry, who also laid his head down and closed his eyes.

"Long weekend?" Chrissy whispered to Sirianna when neither boy spoke all through class.

It had been, actually.

"The longest," she confided, a heavy exaggeration. "Though I have no idea what his problem is," she added, gesturing to Steve.

Chrissy's eyes twinkled like maybe she knew what Steve's problem was and Sirianna very much wanted to find out when they had a chance to talk alone.

Not during lunch though, because Sirianna was sitting with Billy.

The twins were shoved some in the hallways, shoved by stupid boys rushing to lunch, so they weren't early. Sirianna scanned the cafeteria until she saw Billy, sitting alone in the same corner as last time.

Jonathan was there as well, in the opposite corner of the room with Steve.

Sirianna saw it as an excellent opportunity to encourage Harry to be happier.

"Harry." Sirianna grabbed his hand and squeezed, then waited for him to blink and focus on her. She smiled brightly, as warmly as she could, and pointed at Billy then at Jonathan and Steve.

"Do you want to eat lunch with me and Billy or do you want to eat lunch with Steve and Jonathan?" she asked. "I would be happy to eat lunch together, and I won't be upset if you want to sit with your friends."

There was really no possible way for Harry to misinterpret that. It was excellent communication, really. Sirianna didn't realize how much Harry misinterpreted things she said until they talked at Steve's house.

Sirianna could do better, make sure there wasn't any wiggle room for her little brother to think he wasn't the most important person in any world.

"You," Harry said. "If - if I can."

"Of course you can," Sirianna assured him. "I always want you to sit with me."

Sirianna smiled, Harry smiled. It would get better, it had to.

"You are my brother," Sirianna explained while they lined up to get their lunches. "It doesn't matter if you ever want to sit with your friends or if I want to sit with mine, we are always brother and sister. It's okay if sometimes you do, I didn't stop loving you when you had to eat with the Slytherins."

Harry nodded briefly, the only acknowledgment that Sirianna received from her brilliant attempt at communication.

It had been a long weekend though and Sirianna was sure that Harry was worrying about El. It was fine.

Sirianna waved at Jonathan after they had their trays and he waved briefly, though Sirianna thought he seemed quite amused by something. She considered asking Billy to move to where Jonathan and Steve were, then reconsidered since Billy and Steve seemed to fight every time they were alone.

Which was strange and needed to end, honestly. If Harry wanted to be friends with Steve and Sirianna wanted to - to… to keep spending time with Billy… then Billy couldn't fight with Steve all the time.

"You have to be nice to Steve." Sirianna sat down across from Billy in his corner table, a bit surprised when Harry sat beside Billy instead of her. She reached her foot out, touched it to Harry's, and focused on Billy.

Billy dropped his chin in his hand and blinked lazily.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because Steve is Harry's friend," Sirianna said, truly on a roll with communication. "It would be nice if we could all eat lunch together."

"Yeah, no, we should absolutely do that," Billy said sarcastically. "Go ahead and get him, it'll be great."

"Don't you both play basketball?" Sirianna asked, searching for something they could bond over. "On the same team?"

"For now, until Queen Steve eats a bench."

That. That was exactly what Sirianna meant.

"Billy…"

"Sirianna," Billy mimicked her in a whiny voice that she did not have. "Look, you're fun, but if you think I'm going to start hanging out with fucking Harrington and his dumbass friends then you've fucking lost it. Feel free to go sit with them though, since he's such a good friend to Harry."

Sirianna narrowed her eyes at the tone Billy used, the meaning she couldn't pick up on.

"You really don't need to be a shit hole," she told him. "I like you better when you're nice."

Billy smiled, widely and not nicely at all.

"Be disappointed then, babe."

Sirianna was sort of disappointed really. It would be nice if Billy could be the laughing and carefree Billy that she had seen glimpses of all the time. But… but maybe those glimpses wouldn't be as special then; private moments just for Sirianna's memories.

Still, Sirianna swore it was another thing she would work on. Sirianna could be extremely stubborn when she wanted to be.

Sirianna's next two classes seemed to fly by. They were both rather boring - World History and Health. The only thing that made history notable at all was that Chrissy's boyfriend, Jason, said hi to Sirianna and elbowed his friend when he started making cruel jokes about Harry.

It was nearly enough for Sirianna to actually feel excited and not terrified for her audition. Chrissy had received permission from their gym teacher - who also taught health and coached the cheerleading team - to hold auditions during gym since most of the sophomore, junior, and senior girls attended the same gym class.

Hawkins High School was much smaller than even Hogwarts.

"Okay, you've so got this," Chrissy said when everyone was changing and Sirianna was regretting agreeing to audition. Sirianna did not know how to dance. She - she knew how to fly, it had nothing to do with dancing!

"If you can't remember the routine from yesterday, don't try it," Chrissy went on, chatting while Sirianna changed into the gym clothes Chrissy had given her. "Just do your own thing, maybe show how flexible you can be? Mostly just be loud and happy, okay?"

"Loud and happy," Sirianna repeated.

How was she meant to be loud and happy?!

Chrissy must have seen some of her panic because she said that Sirianna should go last, watch the other auditions and check to see if Chrissy gave a thumbs up or down so Sirianna knew if she should do some of what they did.

"Just be yourself," Chrissy said when everyone else rushed out. "You'll be amazing. And I'm like two thirds of the vote anyway, so you've got this."

Sirianna could either be loud and happy or herself.

The gym was buzzing with energy and music while the cheerleading team lined up, Chrissy in the front, to begin auditions. Their coach told the girls to get in two groups - girls who wanted to audition and those who didn't. Sirianna joined the other two hopefuls and tried to ignore the little giggles they made when they watched her follow them.

The rest of the girls were meant to be running, but they were mostly walking laps, laughing and watching the auditions. Nancy Wheeler wished Sirianna luck when she walked past, which was kind, as did another girl whose name Sirianna didn't know.

That horrid Carol flipped her off when Sirianna had been pulling her hair up in a ponytail with the sparkly pink scrunchie Chrissy gave her.

"Okay! Let's see Jessica!" Chrissy said, smiling at the girl with very curly blonde hair. "You've got sixty seconds and can do anything. Go!"

Sirianna watched Jessica as she did tumbles and twirls - she also watched when Jessica chanted and waved her arms a lot in between her tumbles and twirls. Chrissy kept her eyes on Jessica, but Sirianna could see her thumb secretly flipping upward and downward —

Tumbles and twirls, bad.

Chanting, good.

Brittany was next and Sirianna thought she was amazing. She was pretty and happy - exactly the type of person that would fit perfectly on the team. Chrissy didn't seem impressed with her though, she kept giving her a thumbs down every time Brittany wiggled too much.

"And Sirianna!" Chrissy smiled at Sirianna when she was the last one left and Sirianna - she faked it.

Sirianna made her smile as bright and happy as it could be and made herself add a little bounce to her step when she took her place in front of the cheerleading girls.

Sirianna was one of the youngest seekers in a century, she had been chosen by Professor Minerva McGonagall herself. Sirianna was the daughter of a muggleborn witch who ended a war with her love and her magic.

Sirianna slayed monsters, faced down the most dangerous beasts and survived.

"Let's go, Tigers!" Sirianna chanted, keeping her head high and smile big. She did a sideways shuffle and looked past the cheer team to the empty benches, imagining they were full of people who needed energized. "Fight hard, play smart, Tigers really have the heart!"

Sirianna didn't actually remember almost any of the moves the girls had done during their practice the night before, but she did remember the chants. And the words she couldn't remember, she made up. It wasn't very hard.

There weren't any turns or tumbles, not a lot of wiggling and looking terribly pretty, but Chrissy still shot her a thumbs up when her minute ended.

"Give us like five minutes, girls!" Chrissy told Sirianna, Jessica, and Brittany. "And rad job, everyone, I wish I had three open spots!"

"She didn't mean you, Brittany," Jessica whispered to the other girl the second the team turned away. "Have you ever heard of salads?"

"Have you ever heard of rhythm?" Brittany shot right back in a harsh whisper of her own. "You looked like some virgin on their wedding night."

It was as if everyone spoke a different language than Sirianna, she was constantly confused by barbs and jokes and - and —

And maybe that was how Harry felt all the time.

It wasn't a great feeling.

It did distract Sirianna from her nerves and the way that everyone stopped and stared when Chrissy turned around and spread her arms wide.

"Let's go… SIRIANNA!"

Sirianna's smile wasn't faked, it wasn't forced.

It was probably one of the happiest smiles she had.

Sirianna and Chrissy talked the whole rest of the hour about the schedule for cheer practice, the extra practices that Sirianna would need to catch up, and about Sirianna getting her very own uniform.

Chrissy also swore that it wasn't just her choice for Sirianna to be added. Apparently Tammy was a ‘flier' and Sirianna had the ‘right build' for it.

Which sort of made Sirianna the seeker and tripled her excitement over it all.

"This is going to be so fun!" Chrissy squealed. "The first basketball game is in two weeks and - oh, Siri! Jason and Billy will both be on the team! Isn't that so romantic? We should double date after the games! The boys always try to find the best parties, but maybe we can convince them like every other one or something!"

Sirianna didn't usually like people to call her Siri that weren't Harry, but she didn't mind when Chrissy did it. And that did sound terribly fun, except Sirianna repeated what Billy told her about being disappointed if she wanted him to be nice and Chrissy huffed over it.

"Boys are stupid," she said, her arm linked with Sirianna's as they walked their laps. "You can't tell him to change, you need to train him. It's like, well, okay, so I told Jason I don't like hickeys, right? And what did he do? He left a freaking hickey on my neck. So I stopped leaving notes in his locker until he apologized."

"Like - like blackmail?" Sirianna asked, trying to understand.

Chrissy nodded solemnly, "Exactly like blackmail."

Sirianna needed to keep track of all the advice Chrissy gave her, she was sure it was useful. Chrissy was some sort of cheerleading and relationship genius.

Sirianna sort of adored her.

"Guess what?" Sirianna grabbed Harry's hand as soon as gym ended and they were finished with school for the day. "I made the team!" she squealed.

Harry flashed a smile, brief but it was there.

"I knew you would," he said. Which was kind of him to say since Sirianna didn't even know Harry listened when she had talked about it before.

"Thank you." Sirianna was beaming, on top of the world really. There were a few girls from the team - the team - that had congratulated her after gym and - and there were plenty of reasons for her to be excited.

One of those reasons were leaning against his blue car in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette with his hair wet from what must have been a quick shower. Sirianna felt nervous for a moment, hoping very much that Billy would be happy to have her cheering at his games.

"Hi." Sirianna twisted the fingers on her free hand behind her back, crossing and uncrossing them over and over. "I made the cheerleading team, I'll be cheering for your games," she blurted out, all at once.

For a second, just one second that reminded Sirianna of the moments when Billy was more genuine with her, Sirianna saw something warm flicker in Billy's gaze. It was gone just as quickly, but it had been there.

"‘Course you did," Billy said smoothly. He dropped his cigarette, crushed it under his boot, and took a few steps toward her, closing the gap. "Guess I'll give you something to cheer for," he said in a low voice with his head tilted and a small smile on his lips.

Sirianna blushed and for a moment she thought Billy might kiss her - she wanted him to.

Then Harry cleared his throat quite pointedly.

"Three," he said, startling Sirianna and reminding her that he was literally right beside her.

"Yeah, kitten." Billy flicked his glasses down and waved toward his car. "It's three, let's get this party on the road."

Sirianna had forgotten, with everything else that the day had already included, but they were going shopping.

Which meant it was basically the perfect day.

Chapter Text

Harry realized that he hated a lot of things.

Harry hated Them, he hated the sound of his sister's screams. Harry hated sleeping alone, he hated small spaces and he hated mushy food. Harry hated the bright lights in the high school, he hated feeling stupid, and Harry hated - desperately terribly viciously hated - shopping.

Shopping for groceries with El was different. They had darted in the store, grabbed some things that looked like they would taste okay, and left. Harry focused his magic on making them unobserved, telling himself it was so that El was never hungry that he did it. There weren't many people in the grocery store, nobody knew they were there to talk to them.

The lights didn't have a buzzing sound that irritated Harry's ears. There weren't sizes of groceries. Nobody in the grocery store asked what colors Harry liked to wear.

Harry didn't like to wear any particular color, he didn't know what size he was. His skin was sweating and there was too much spit in his mouth and he wanted to leave. And he couldn't leave, Harry couldn't leave, because El was holding his hand and Hop said ‘not your sister, not El, you'. Harry couldn't leave, couldn't leave, couldn't leave.

Siri said if Harry didn't want to do something, he didn't have to. When they were in Steve's house, Siri said if Harry didn't want to do something, he didn't have to. All Harry had to do was open his mouth and say so. Except Hop said Harry had to. Hop didn't say he could open his mouth and say no, Hop said he had to use a little notebook to pay for clothes that ‘not your sister, not El, you'.

‘Not your sister, not El, you.'

‘Not your sister, not El, you.'

"Hun? Would you like to try a pair of these?"

Harry flinched so hard it felt as if he was actually jumping out of his skin as it crawled away from him, hiding from the woman holding a pair of jeans toward him. He shook his head and backed away, bumped into a person - not a person, a fake person - and nearly fell over.

"Does he look like a fuckin' skinny jean kind of guy?" Billy was there and he was as loud as the music that played in every area of the store they were in and he was too close, crowding up beside Harry and taking all of the air.

"Sirianna!" Billy yelled past the woman with the jeans, yelled at where Siri was looking at skirts and sweaters and giggling while she touched each thing. She paused to look over at Billy and Harry could see - he could see - her excitement flicker.

"We're going to smoke, grab some shit for your brother and find us when you're done," Billy said. He grabbed the leg of the jeans the woman had and rolled his eyes. "Not fuckin' skinny jeans."

Harry didn't know what he said, he tried to open his mouth to say he couldn't leave, couldn't, and he managed to pull the little notepad from his pocket.

"Who gives a fuck? El can grab you when they're done if you have to sign the check." Billy scoffed and turned away to stride toward the exit.

It looked so nice outside, Harry never appreciated it. It was blue, blue might be his favorite color. Harry wanted to leave too.

"Grab you." El slowly let go of Harry's hand and she was already leaving him to join Siri further in the flames. "Not skinny jeans," she added.

Harry should stay. Hop told him to. But Siri said that if Harry didn't want to do something he only had to say so.

"I don't want to do this," Harry said. He nodded to himself, to the woman still standing beside him, and then hurried to catch up with Billy.

If Siri wanted to pick clothes for Harry, she could. He had already been made to try on trousers and jeans and shirts to ‘get his sizes'. As long as Harry - not Siri, not El - paid at the end then he wasn't disobeying Hop's orders.

As soon as Harry was outside he felt like he could breathe properly again. He tried it a few times, slowed the racing pulse in his body, breathed. Harry breathed and then did it again. It was better, outside.

"Shopping sucks," Billy said when Harry carefully crossed the busy lot to where his car was parked. Billy leaned against the front of the car and Harry tried to mimic his pose. It - it probably looked better when Billy did it.

Harry nodded in agreement anyway, shopping was terrible. It made Harry's head ache along with his eyes. The man at the eye office told Harry that it would be ‘an adjustment' wearing glasses and the adjustment was apparently just getting used to the pain.

At least Harry could see though, he didn't know he couldn't before. It was kind of neat, reading signs that became nothing but fuzz when he looked at them over the top of his glasses. It made his eyes hurt more to do, but Harry liked it.

Harry did it a few times while Billy smoked a cigarette beside him. Billy offered Harry one and Harry shook his head - they smelled awful. Siri must have liked the smell though, it didn't make her nose pinch to be around or to smoke herself.

Somehow, like he was reading Harry's mind, Billy pointed out what Harry had been thinking about for the last two days.

"You know, for twins, you and Sirianna are about as similar as night and day."

That made Harry the night, he was sure. Siri was daylight, warm and cheerful. People were happy in the day, they smiled and they joined cheerleading teams. Sometimes people slept at night, sometimes they stayed up and waited for the day to come back.

Harry and Siri were different, Harry wished they weren't. Siri told him it didn't matter, back when they were eleven. When they were eleven Siri said it didn't matter if they were in different houses and when they were fifteen Siri said that nothing would drive them apart.

They were different and she said it was okay. They were okay. It was okay if Harry didn't want to do things that she did. Hogwarts houses didn't matter and high school didn't matter - they weren't fine, they were okay.

Siri mattered, El mattered. Siri liked Billy so he mattered. He mattered just enough that Harry answered him when he didn't really want to.

"Yeah," Harry agreed again.

Billy made a snorting noise that seemed like it would be painful with the smoke in his mouth. He finished his cigarette and then squished it beneath his boot.

"If I ask what it's like living with the Chief of fucking Po-lice, are you gonna say ‘yeah' again?" Billy asked.

Well, no. That wouldn't make sense. It didn't make sense that Billy wanted to know what it was like living with Hop either though, but Harry wasn't the Potter that was good at conversations.

"Er… it's okay," Harry said.

"He seems like he could be a massive dick."

Harry didn't know how to reply, so he shrugged. Harry didn't want to be in charge of a notepad - not Siri, not El, Harry - but Siri was so happy to buy new clothes, how could Harry complain? And Hop told Harry he was too old to sleep in bed with Siri, but Harry did it. Hop didn't turn El away, Harry never even thought that he could have.

"He good to your sister?"

Harry shrugged again, still not knowing the answer to that. Hop made Siri happy, telling them to buy clothes. Siri made dinner and Hop said it was good. Was that being good to someone?

"I guess so," Harry said, thinking he should say something.

"Good." Billy leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes never wavered from the door of the store. "If that changes, let me know, would you?"

Harry tried to cross his arms, then uncrossed them. Then he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Okay."

Billy didn't ask any more questions and it was silent between them. There were some women that walked past them and giggled, but other than that it was quiet. Siri poked her head out of the store door after a few minutes and scanned the parking lot. When she saw Harry she held up five fingers and so he nodded.

"She always been like that?" Billy nodded where Siri disappeared to and Harry saw that his lips were curled up at the edges.

"Like what?" Harry forced himself to ask. Siri liked Billy, Billy liked Siri. It meant Harry should talk to him, or at least not outright ignore him like he wanted to.

It was adding to the throbbing at the base of Harry's skull though, he knew it.

"Like… like…" Billy waved a hand that Harry kept clear of. "A fucking mother hen, or some shit. The way she's always clucking at you?"

Siri didn't… she didn't cluck? Harry doubted that was what Billy meant though, didn't it mean —

"Theo's like Harry's little mother hen." Draco Malfoy and his goons were snickering at where Theo kept taking Harry's dessert and replacing it with a bowl of soup. "Oh, no, Potter has the sniffles! Time to cluck away!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "And quit that," Harry pushed the soup away and rolled his eyes at Theo. "It rains during quidditch sometimes, Theo. I'm fine."

"Do you know how many people die every year from the common cold?" Theo asked, once again taking Harry's plate of tarts.

Harry hesitated, interested in the answer even if he just wanted to eat a bunch of sugar and go to sleep. "Er… no? Do you?"

Theo blinked, Harry blinked.

They ended up laughing together over their ignorance on the annual death toll caused by the common cold while they shared the tarts and ignored anyone who called Theo a ‘mother hen'.

"I guess not," Harry mused quietly. Siri didn't hang around Harry at Hogwarts, not until - well, all they had were each other. "We - er… she worries, I think. It's - I dunno. I think she thinks she has to protect me."

That was what she said - they protected each other. But the way she said it had sounded like she meant she had to look after him, she had to take care of Harry because he didn't do it right. She wasn't mad, it still made Harry feel young and stupid.

Harry tried to protect her - he did.

"From…?" Billy pulled another cigarette from his pocket, never looking at Harry the whole time he lit it and blew smoke in the opposite direction. Harry appreciated it, even if he could still smell it.

From? From - what? Oh. Harry shook his head, he had said - and Billy asked —

"Everything," Harry shrugged. "It - I don't - Siri - we…" Harry huffed. He didn't want to explain, not to Billy. It didn't matter if he reminded Harry of Theo sometimes, it didn't matter if Siri liked him so Harry needed to try. "I don't want to talk about this."

Sometimes, not often, Harry thought if he started talking then he wouldn't be able to stop. Harry used to ramble, ramble about things only Theo cared about. Siri was patient, when they - they… Harry had vague memories of a house Siri said they lived in; he could picture his sister with her missing front teeth nodding along to whatever had sparked Harry's interest at the time. Harry could remember a door that rarely opened, two narrow cots shoved in a room, and that was mostly it.

Harry used to ramble. He couldn't anymore because he didn't think he would stop and nobody needed to hear about experiments and magic and tests that peeled skin off of bones and the different ways that Harry had died and couldn't do again.

"Yeah." Billy puffed on his cigarette, kept the smoke out of Harry's face. "You change your mind, you know where to find me."

Did… did he? Harry didn't actually know much about Billy. Harry knew he liked Siri, didn't like loud noises unexpectedly, and someone stronger than him beat him up. Harry knew he drove fast, smoked a lot, and swore.

That was all he knew.

"Okay."

It wasn't much longer before El opened the glass door to the store and looked at Harry. He cringed at the thought of going back inside, didn't want to - had to be him.

"You ever write a check before?" Billy asked, loping back toward the store beside Harry. Harry shook his head, the eye doctor only needed the numbers off the check, then they wrote ‘VOID' in all capital letters across it. Billy held a hand out for the little book Harry reluctantly handed over. "Look, it's easy, right? Write the store name on this line, the total in words on this line, the total in numbers in this box. Sign down there, done."

Billy made it sound much easier than it wound up being. Harry stood in front of the register with a pen shaking in his fingers - the lights were loud, people were whispering and telling him to hurry, the cashier had lipstick on her teeth - while he slowly wrote the letters and numbers out.

Then he went to sign his name and froze completely.

H - a - r - r - y…

What did he write? Potter? Hammond? The name on the check said Jim Hopper. Would they think Harry stole it if they didn't have the same last name? Why did Hop say not Siri, not El, Harry?!

"Done yet?" The cashier popped a bubble of pink gum in Harry's face and he needed to get out of there. In his moment of panic, Harry wrote ‘Hopper'.

If Hop was mad about it, then - then he'd have to be mad because Harry handed over the check out of the book and fled.

Harry hoped the clothes that Siri picked for him would fit for the rest of his life because Harry was never going shopping again.

It was after six when Billy pulled up in front of Hop's house. Hop's car was in the driveway and Harry suddenly worried that they had used too much money. There were so many bags that Harry, Siri, and El carried from the boot to the house and it was a lot and Siri was bouncing on her toes and she picked everything but if Hop got angry he had told Harry to be in charge of the stupid checkbook.

Not Siri, not El - Harry.

"I'll meet you inside in a minute." Siri dropped her arm of bags just inside the door and flashed Harry the smile she wore all day. "I wanna tell Billy bye."

Harry thought she could do that from the doorway, El agreed - he was sure. But he still nodded and then warily entered the house himself. El was right beside Harry when they stepped in the living room and saw Hop stretched out on his recliner with a glass bottle in one hand and cigarette in the other.

The - the room was trashed, actually. Harry was so distracted by the ripped up cardboard, the discarded plastic sheets, and the tools littered everywhere that Hop had to say his name twice for his attention.

"How's the vision?" he asked when Harry looked away from the garbage to him.

Harry's vision? It was okay.

"Okay." Harry looked away from Hop, distracted again by the trash and tools and general mess that he apparently made. Harry turned around to put the bags he had with where Siri dropped hers and then he grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen.

It was a trail of trash - more cardboard, ripped up instructions, discarded screws. Why - how - how did one person make so much of a mess? The house had been clean when they picked up El.

"Hey, quit that." Hop put the leg rest of his chair down when he saw Harry walking from the kitchen to the living room, carefully picking up each piece of garbage he saw. "It's my mess, kid, I'll clean it when I'm ready."

"But —" Harry wanted to argue, he wanted to say that it was a mess and it was covering the floor and Harry was surrounded by garbage. Hop stepped up to him and held a hand out for the bag though so Harry slowly gave it to him.

"Yes, sir."

"We talked about that." Hop took the bag and tossed it in the corner where the biggest pieces of cardboard were before he settled back in his chair. Harry was stuck in the middle of the room, El just behind him, and Hop looking at him.

Staring.

Waiting for… for something.

"Hello! We're home!" Siri rushed in the room, bringing fresh air and breaking the tension that had begun to build in Harry's chest. She stopped to scoop up all the bags and then positively beamed at Hop. "We did exactly what you said. Harry saw an eye doctor, doesn't he look brilliant with his glasses? And we got clothes and El needed shoes and also I bought shampoo and conditioner and if you're mad I'll pay you back - but Chrissy said—"

"Yup, dont care." Hop cut Siri off with a wave of his hand. "No offense, kid, but I'm not the shopping kind of guy. You all got shit you need? Shoes, clothes, jackets?"

"Toothbrush." El pulled her new toothbrush from one of the bags and held it up. It was yellow, Harry liked it. Harry got a blue one and had nearly smiled when Siri snatched a red one.

"Great, there's a bigger dresser in there now." Hop jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing it at the bedroom door. "It's not huge, but it'll work for now. Six drawers, two each. Use the hall closet if you need more space."

Siri thanked Hop and then urged Harry and El to follow her so they could ‘divide up drawers'. She was in the middle of offering El first choice on her two drawers when she opened the door and Harry drew to a stop.

It was… it was beds. Stacked on top of each other. Bunk beds, that was what it was called. It was separate beds. Stacked on each other with another bed tucked underneath the bottom one.

Three people. Three beds.

Siri faltered when she noticed the beds and she looked at Harry quickly.

"It's fine." She dropped the bags and took his hand, trying to pull Harry further in the room with the three beds. "It's just beds, we don't have to sleep on separate beds. Who cares?"

"Who cares?" El echoed, nodding along.

Harry cared. Harry cared that Hop said he was too old to sleep with Siri and he cared that he - not Siri, not El, Harry - had to decide what to sign on a check and he cared that there was trash everywhere and Hop said don't call him sir.

Harry cared that his throat was swelling and his head swam painfully and he hated shopping and bunk beds and glasses.

"I'll put your stuff away," Siri offered kindly. "Are you hungry? Why don't you go see what we have for dinner and we can cook when everything's put away?"

Siri wasn't getting rid of him, she was blocking his view of the beds with her pity filled eyes because she thought she had to protect Harry from - from bunk beds.

Harry left though, walked away from the beds, walked through the living room, walked right back out the front door so he could sit and breathe fresh air.

It was stupid, letting things weigh down Harry's chest. Siri said it at Steve's - they were free and safe and had each other. Nothing else mattered, it didn't.

Harry ripped the glasses off his face and shoved them in his pocket. He sank down to sit on the steps and pushed the palms of his hands against both of his eyes as hard as he could.

It.

Was.

Stupid.

Harry breathed in, held it, breathed out. He did it over and over until his exhales stopped shaking and his chest didn't feel overexposed and raw. The door opened behind him and Harry shifted so it wasn't his back directly to whoever - Hop, they were too loud of steps to be Siri or El - joined him.

"When did I become too old?"

"What's that?"

Harry moved his hands off his face and squeezed his own fingers tightly, squeezed them until he could feel his bones safely inside of their skin. He stared out at the yard and couldn't read the sign across the street, which did nothing for his head.

"What age was it that I turned too old to share a bed with Siri?" Harry asked, needing the answer. Harry needed the answer. It was going to circle his head until he answered it - how many people died from the common cold? Which birthday was it when Harry shouldn't need Siri as much?

"Kid…" Hop sat down beside Harry on the porch steps with a heavy sigh. Harry couldn't scoot any further away, he was already pressed against the railing, but Hop didn't say he minded that Harry's knee knocked into his.

"It's not an age exactly," Hop said. "You both need space, you have to learn that the world isn't going to end if you're not tangled up in each other constantly. That's all."

The world would end, it had.

Many times.

"Right." Harry didn't fight, didn't argue. He rubbed his forehead and pushed on it, trying to physically push the ache away.

"Headache?" Hop asked.

"No, s - no," Harry said, catching himself quickly. Harry tried to move his hands to his pockets, somewhere neutral to keep them until Hop went back inside. He felt the checkbook and forgot he needed to give it back to Hop.

"I didn't - I didn't know what to write," Harry said, working hard to not mumble. He gave Hop the book and shrugged his shoulders up. "My name. I didn't know."

Hop flipped the little book open and barely glanced at the copy of the void check from the eye doctor before turning the page. The copy was light, Harry could see his own shaky writing and rushed signature.

Harry Hopper.

Harry forgot one of the p's, so it actually said ‘Harry Hoper'.

What was he hoping for?

"That's alright." Hop closed the book and tucked it inside his jacket pocket. "Remind me to give your sister a limit next time. Jesus Christ, that girl can shop."

Harry nodded then dropped his head back in his hands and focused on pulling air into his lungs, out of his lungs. Hop didn't speak, didn't get up. He lit a cigarette and Harry felt his own stomach flip at the smell.

They smoked, a lot of Them. The smell would cling to the ones that moved Harry from his cell to the testing room, it would be mixed with the smell of singed flesh, potions, or whatever device they invented to test that day. It made Harry's head spin and his stomach to twist.

It was a disgusting smell and acid bubbled up in Harry's stomach, creeped its way up his throat.

"You want me to put it out or move, say so." Hop's voice came from nowhere, Harry was bent forward, clutching his head and holding down the urge to retch. "You've got to speak up, Harry, your sister isn't here to do it for you."

If Hop thought he knew that Harry wanted him to move, why did Harry have to say so? If HE KNEW THAT HARRY WANTED HIM TO MOVE, WHY DID HARRY HAVE TO SAY SO?

Harry wouldn't. Harry shoved himself up off the step, turned around, stormed in the house. It was mostly an accident when he slammed the door hard behind him, slammed it hard enough to make the doorframe shake and the windows to rattle.

Only mostly, because Harry did not have to say a word if he didn't want to. Harry could go to his room, tear through the bags of clothes until he found something soft to wear, and then throw himself on the very top bed, ignoring Siri's startled questions and El's wide eyes both.

It wasn't Siri or El who had to talk and write checks and sign their name and they weren't too stupid to do simple tasks and they weren't breathing hard about the trash all over the living room that was still there.

Not Siri. Not El.

Harry.

Chapter Text

"Thank you, for giving us a ride."

Sirianna stood right in front of Billy and had her hands at her sides, like she didn't know if she could touch him. Billy took her hands, put them on his sides, pulled her closer by his jacket that she wore. She looked good in it, her dark hair spilling over the back, Billy's favorite cologne wrapped around her.

"Don't mention it." Billy tipped his head to the side, flashed her a smile. "You can pay me back, I'm sure."

"I…" Her hands tightened on Billy's side and it was too fucking easy to see her sudden nerves. God, she was cute as fuck, funny, fiery when she wanted to be - Billy forgot she tended to take everything literally.

"I meant this." Billy ducked down, because she was fucking tiny and it shouldn't be a turn on how much fire one little thing like her could hold, but fuck if it didn't work for him. He kissed her slow, he wasn't trying to catch some perv charge in front of the Chief of Police's house.

Not that it mattered, Sirianna was into it. She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips more eagerly against Billy's, held his shirt tightly in her hands at his sides. Billy did not let his hand slide down to her ass, he kept it on her back - thanks - as he pulled her a little closer.

It was going to be a shit night, might as well milk every moment of something good he could.

And Sirianna was good. God damn, she was good. She was - she was good, that was the point. Billy liked flirting with her, he liked her wearing his jacket, and he sure as shit liked to kiss her.

It made him feel fucking fourteen again, like he was back in Cali, walking around the boardwalk with Jo. They walked hand-in-hand up and down the boardwalk, all over the beach. They surfed together, stayed out late and pretended like they could see the stars together. Neil had been preoccupied with his fiancé, the fiancé's kid; nobody missed Billy much.

It had been the best summer of Billy's life.

Sirianna was the first chick in the hicktown Neil moved him to that reminded him of Jo. They didn't look a damn thing alike - Jo had been tan, blonde, blue eyed. But it was something about seeing them get riled up, seeing them speaking up when some shit seemed unfair. Jo had also once decked some bitch in the face then went right back to eating popcorn.

So Billy had a type, whatever. It didn't have to mean shit. Sirianna was new, stuck out like a broken thumb - she'd get used to Hawkins, find someone else. Or she'd see that Billy couldn't change, wouldn't, and ditch him.

Until then, Billy was having a good time.

"I have to go inside." Sirianna pulled away and her cheeks were red, her eyes sparkling in the way that chicks did sometimes. Billy liked her eyes, liked them when she was smiling at him. Billy liked when she smiled at him.

"Yeah." Billy sighed, figured he was pushing it anyway. Billy was supposed to be home after school, Neil was off on Mondays and he had wanted Billy home after school for chores.

‘Chores' always wound up being bullshit and just an excuse for Neil to show Billy that he wasn't shit. It sounded a hell of a lot more appealing for Billy to take Sirianna and Harry to Indianapolis and get a taste of the city. The music was playing though and Billy needed to face it.

"Hey, call Byers for a ride tomorrow," Billy told Sirianna when she seemed as uninterested in going home as Billy was.

"Are you not going to school?" she asked and Billy nearly smiled because she definitely sounded disappointed that time.

"I'll be there," Billy said - maybe. If he went, he would be right on time, no time to stop and pick up a pretty passenger. "I'll be late though, so you'll have to ask Byers for a ride."

"Oh, okay." Sirianna took another step backward, couldn't stand to be away from her brother for more than a minute. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Billy nodded and kept up his crooked half-grin until she made it inside the house. Then Billy ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Time to face the music.

Billy drove home carefully, paying attention to the speed limit more to stall than anything. It was Monday, Neil had work in the morning. It was going to suck, but not as much as it could.

It would have sucked no matter what, delaying the blow up just meant less time Billy had to deal with the shit. It would have been an all day event if Billy returned by three, at least this way Billy handed Neil a reason to be pissed on a silver platter.

Irresponsible Billy, can't show up on time. Irresponsible Billy, didn't understand the concept of respect. Irresponsible Billy, who was going to end up in jail like every other useless piece of shit there was.

Billy heard it all and he just didn't care anymore. Sure, maybe the shit got in his head when he was like ten, but who cared? Jail, prison, a gutter - they were all looking like fucking paradise lately.

Neil's car was in the driveway when Billy pulled up to the curb, Susan's car was gone. It was never a good sign when Susan wasn't there, it meant Neil had no reason to be quiet, no reason to temper himself. Susan would make sure that her kid wasn't near the bomb, so who cared if Billy himself was blown up?

Not Susan, not Neil, not Billy.

Billy left his shoes on the porch, tucked his car keys under the steps. Neil hadn't taken his car in a while, but there was never a reason to risk it. The house was quiet, didn't smell like anyone cleaned a fucking thing. It was never dirty, because God forbid, but Mondays were for cleaning.

Cleaning and bitching about Billy's work ethic, his hair, his clothes. Anything really, Neil would find anything to bitch about until he pushed Billy into mouthing off some remark and then it would be a fight.

Every. Fucking. Time.

Billy took a deep breath on the porch, settling himself. He needed to keep his fucking mouth shut, get it over with. There was only one way the day was going to go and he knew it the second he told Sirianna he'd give her a ride.

Damn her for saying she'd ask Harrington instead.

As soon as he was good, Billy opened the front door. It didn't even get a chance to shut before Billy was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and slammed against the wall by the door.

"What part of home by three did you not understand?" Neil was in Billy's face and that had him pissed - pissed in a way he couldn't get.

"I had practice," Billy lied, tilting his chin up. Stand tall, shoulders squared, chin up. Don't fucking cry, don't fucking backtalk.

Neil cracked his hand across Billy's face anyway because Billy was a dumbass. A dumbass with a cheek that burned from shame as much as it did any sort of pain.

"Try again," he demanded.

Neil didn't know the practice schedule, couldn't care less. The only way he would know he was lying was if Max said something. And she might have, fuck if Billy knew.

"I had practice, sir," Billy said again. "Our first game is coming up, coach added it. I didn't have time to tell you."

Max must not have said shit because all Billy got was another open backhand.

"There is always time to be fucking responsible, William," Neil said. He shoved Billy to the side, knocked him off-balance and Billy had to catch himself on the floor. "If you planted your God damned feet…" Neil sighed, because Billy was a constant disappointment. It was Billy's fault he fell, Billy's fault that he couldn't do shit right for Neil. "Go to your room, I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes, sir." Billy picked himself back up and didn't walk around Neil, he didn't need to bother. It was the same sorry routine - Neil would send Billy to his room, he'd have a beer, and Billy would get his ass handed to him when he was done.

It was the same sorry routine that Billy had followed since the summer after his mom left. Billy hoped she was happy, he hoped she was really fucking happy wherever she was.

Billy wasn't in terrible shape the next morning. He checked himself over after a shower that was as much torture as it was relief. A few bruises on his side, probably a mark or two on his back judging from the soreness. There was a dark bruise over his eye, not too swollen to deal with. The busted lip was always the bitch, it burned every time Billy lit up.

He could go to school, he shouldn't though. He knew if he went that he'd only end up having to leave and if Neil got another call about a suspension… nah, better to skip.

Max fidgeted in the passenger seat during the drive to the school and Billy saw her open her stupid mouth twice, closed it twice, finally said something the third time.

"I didn't tell him," Max said quietly, her fingers twisting around in her lap. "I told him I didn't know what you were doing."

Billy didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on the road.

"Are you - are you okay?"

"Fine, shitbird," Billy said. "Just shut the fuck up."

"Do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, it's called Maxine." Billy reached out to turn the radio up as loud as it would go, an effective way of drowning out Max's whining. What the fuck did she have to whine about? Max had a peachy fucking life. All she had to do was run to her mom and Neil never so much as raised his voice at her.

"I'll see you after school?" Max asked when Billy pulled up to the middle school, a cigarette tucked between his lips no matter what Sally-the-parking-lot-monitor wanted to make faces about.

"Be on time or ride your fucking skateboard," Billy warned her. Billy wasn't going to be late, he wasn't going to risk setting Neil off twice in two days.

"Don't you have practice?" Max was stalling for some reason, holding Billy up with stupid questions.

"I'm not going," Billy said. Hard to practice when it was fifty-fifty odds that Billy would be told to play skins. "Get the fuck out, Max."

"I - do you swear that you'll be here after school?"

Billy reached in the back and snatched her backpack then threw it as far out her half-opened door as he could. ‘Sally', or whatever he name was, made some fucking noise about disrespectful. Billy could write twenty fucking essays on respect.

"Out. Go," Billy snapped. Just because he was ditching didn't mean that Max could be late. Max pulled on her hair and Billy rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "I will fucking be here, don't worry. I won't run away and leave you to take my place."

Max's eyes grew until she looked stupid, she also looked like she was about to cry and that was the last straw. Max did not get to cry about a damn thing. "Billy! That's not what I—"

Whatever she meant, it didn't matter. Billy pushed her door open and then gave her a shove out of it. Max tripped, landed on her ass. Sally was yelling at Billy then, running to help poor Max up even if she was already climbing to her feet.

Billy flipped the old woman off, slammed Max's door shut, then started driving.

If Billy couldn't get through Max's bullshit, he wasn't going to last ten minutes at the school full of privileged little hicks whose biggest issue was finding a throat to stick their tongue down.

The quarry was the best place for Billy to spend the day. The school could mark him absent, they wouldn't call Neil as long as Billy went the next day. It meant Billy had seven hours of silence, seven hours of sitting beside some water and closing his eyes without worrying about anyone else being around.

It was the closest thing to peace that Billy could find in Bumfuck, Indiana.

And it only lasted two hours.

Billy had a bottle of booze under the backseat in the Camaro, some cheap shit he swiped from the last party he had crashed. It tasted like ass, but Billy wasn't drinking for the taste.

Billy was drinking because his chest kept tightening up and he would start choking and then there would be fucking tears on his face and he was over it. He was over crying, he was over nursing his fucking wounds and telling himself that he was almost there - almost to eighteen.

Only… sixteen more months.

Sixteen months and Billy could get the fuck out of Indiana, get back to California. He'd need to be smarter with saving and storing the cash he could make during the summer, maybe even try and open his own bank account.

One of the seniors, a real babe, told Billy that she made a ton of money working the pool last summer. She said if he was interested that she could let him know when they held classes for guards. There had been a wink and Billy had been interested - real interested.

In the job.

If Billy could get the job, save the money up during the summer… he could pick up some odd jobs during the school year, maybe start soon with that. Surely there were some old ladies who didn't want to run errands and would pay Billy to do it, or some moms too busy to run their brats to soccer practice or whatever. He wouldn't make a killing, but his savings were pretty well shot after Neil found his hoard and he needed to start rebuilding.

Billy was not staying in Indiana one extra fucking day. He'd push his fucking car to California if he had to.

Billy was reclined back against his windshield, enjoying a cigarette and the brief feeling of sunshine on his face. It wouldn't last long, Indiana was already colder than Santa Barbara got in the dead of winter and it was only fucking November.

It was going to be a cold ass winter, Billy wasn't looking forward to it. Neil's favorite game to do on weekends was kick Billy out for any reason at all. It was fine in the spring, wasn't terrible during the summer, but the last time Billy slept in his car in early October had been fucking cold.

If nothing else, he'd need to toss a few extra blankets in his trunk and hope that Susan didn't mention it to Neil. Maybe if Billy got a move on trying to earn some cash he could pick up a sleeping bag at the army resale store downtown, at least then he wouldn't fucking die in his backseat like a God damned loser.

Billy was debating the easiest way to try and find some odd jobs, something that wouldn't get back to Neil, when he heard someone walking down the trail. It wasn't even eleven yet, it had to be some ambitious hiker, some burned out stoner, or —

"Billy?"

Or it would be the very last person Billy wanted to see him when he was a fucking wreck. Billy, stupidly, thought maybe if he didn't fucking move or breathe that it wouldn't be Sirianna's voice he heard or her footsteps coming closer. Billy wiped his face, flipped his sunglasses down.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Billy asked when she was close enough that he could see her from the edge of his vision. She looked cute, all dressed up in some girl skirt thing and with Billy's jacket thrown on top of it all.

It made Billy kind of crazy, seeing her in his jacket.

"Shouldn't you?" Sirianna leaned on the car, tried to get closer even when Billy turned his head away from her. "Billy? Are you - you're hurt. What happened?"

Billy tightened the grip on the bottle of cheap ass tequila he had, took another drink to burn down the knot in his chest. Of course she would notice, of course she would go looking.

It was why Billy noticed her, wasn't it? Birds of a feather or whatever the fuck.

"I'm fine," he muttered, refusing to turn and look at her. If her eyes were all sad then Billy wouldn't be able to stand it, he hated when people made sad eyes at him. Pity pissed him off, sad made him want to claw his skin off.

"You're lying." Sirianna said it simply, she wasn't one to bullshit. She climbed up on the hood, carefully kept her shoes from scuffing the paint, and rearranged herself until she was laying beside him.

She was fucking magic, that was all. Not the actual magic shit that Billy couldn't think too much about or he'd lose his shit - but just her. There was just something about her that ripped at the perfect mask Billy had for the rest of the world and exposed his real face.

The mask was better, she would like the mask.

"Your lip…" Sirianna was turned on her side, staring at him. "What happened?" she asked again.

"Go back to school," Billy said, making his words a hard demand, trying to get her to fucking go. She didn't want to listen to him bitch, Billy didn't want to. For the love of God, he wanted one easy fucking thing in his life.

As it turned out, the fucking witch with the weird as shit queer twin was the simplest fucking thing Billy had. It was all he had, which was fucking pathetic but true.

Sue him that he didn't want to fuck it up already.

"I can't. I'm sick." Sirianna coughed, fake as fuck, and it nearly made Billy grin. He started to, then stopped when it pulled on the cut crossing his lower lip.

"Yeah, you sound sick," he said sarcastically. "Guess I'm sick too." Billy didn't bother coughing, just took another drink and made sure he didn't spill any on himself that time.

"Great, now that we've established we're both sick…" Sirianna scooted closer and she was so fucking innocent. Not innocent, she knew the world sucked, Billy could tell. Sirianna had been through some shit, though Billy couldn't pin the specifics. But she was fucking - fucking - she was scooting closer to him with her big fucking eyes and her soft lips and she had no idea.

None.

"Did you get in a fight?" Sirianna asked, quiet like she knew he didn't.

Billy arched an eyebrow, doubted she could see it.

"You could say that." He took another drink and then capped it to drop on the ground by the car when he figured he had enough. Too much more and Billy would be weeping like a bitch, too much more and he'd sleep through picking up Max and then Neil would be pissed.

"I think you're lying…" Sirianna lifted her hand up and Billy could have smacked it away if he wanted to, she moved it real slow. But Billy was weak and he closed his eyes instead so she could lay it gently on his cheek.

Sirianna didn't say anything when she used her thumb to push up his glasses, didn't make a sound about the black eye. Billy stayed silent too, he didn't even flinch when her thumb traced the mark lightly. It felt nice, really. Her skin was smooth, cold, gentle.

"You didn't get in a fight," she said, whispering it because she really wanted to make it all that much fucking worse. Billy was already breathing hard, already shaking inside. She needed to shut up, not —

"Someone hit you, at least twice… you - your dad. Right?"

Billy's breath caught and he squeezed his eyes hard, too late, against her dead on aim. Only one tear fucking fell, one tear because he was tired and sore and miserable and about to ruin the only fucking thing he had. He swallowed hard, fought to keep his voice steady even if his fucking cry baby shit was trying to give him away.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Sirianna," he warned her. He reached up to take her hand, remove it from his face, but his fingers had a mind of their own as they interweaved with hers and held her hand right where it was.

"I think I do." Sirianna lifted her head up and Billy kept his eyes closed, didn't think he could look at her without everything shattering inside him. It was fine, shattering when he was alone. That was half the reason he went to the quarry on the shit days, but he didn't want her there to see, to remember.

It didn't matter, because she was a damned witch. The second Sirianna pressed her lips as soft as could fucking be against the corner of Billy's lips, he lost it.

Billy turned away, clenched his jaw as hard as he could, and buried his face in the crook of his arm. It always fucking happened, because Billy was an idiot, he just didn't want her to see him so fucking broken and worthless.

The mask was good, the front everyone bought. Billy was charming, Billy was a smooth talker, Billy was an asshole but - hey - that was part of the charm. Billy was a fucking joke, too damned pathetic to fix a single fucking thing in his life, too fucking tired to even try anymore.

God, he was so fucking tired. It was always the same shit and it wasn't going to fucking change for sixteen months.

Billy curled his knees up, wished with everything inside of him that Sirianna would fucking go. Leave. Get far the fuck away.

She didn't. She put a hand on Billy's head and stroked his hair while he tried to force himself to break down and build back up in double time. Pedal to the floor, get it over with. If he was going to make a fucking scene, he wanted it to be quick.

And then he didn't want to fucking see her again.

Billy didn't want to see the pity, hear the questions. He didn't want her to sit around, acting fucking concerned. Billy couldn't make himself stop, couldn't fucking control himself, but he would that. He didn't think Sirianna would tell anyone, she had plenty of secrets she kept about herself, but Billy didn't want her to even know.

When Billy thought he could breathe right, when his chest ached in the normal way, he started wiping his face on his sleeve and planned on telling her to fuck off. She had been the one untainted thing, the one thing that was just for Billy, and it wasn't Neil who ruined it, but Billy.

How was that for personal fucking accountability?

Then Sirianna started talking, because Jesus fuck she could talk sometimes —

"— then it's step left, arms do a winding thing up. Step back, wind down the arms. Two steps right, do a sort of rustling thing? Where we shake our pom poms slowly in another wind up, then we have too—"

"What?" Billy choked on his own question, maybe she had been talking for a while and he didn't notice it because he had no idea what the fuck she was on about. That alone made him turn his head, turned to face her.

"I didn't want to say something stupid so I - I was just talking," Sirianna said. Her hand was still tangled in Billy's hair and Billy hated her big wet eyes, not pity-filled, but sad.

"You should go." Billy reached up and did make himself remove her hand from his hair. He placed it gently on her own hip and then pulled his hand away, didn't touch her at all. They were close, that was it. She should leave.

"Can I have a cigarette?" Sirianna asked. "Just one?"

Billy sighed loudly because he could, because one fucking cigarette wasn't going to be the end of it. He shoved himself up in a seated position, something a little less vulnerable, and pulled a knee to his chest while he dug for his pack of smokes. He took two out, lit one for her before lighting one for himself.

Sirianna was quiet, Billy doubted she would be for long. Harry kept shit bottled up, Sirianna liked to talk.

Sure as shit, Billy only had two good draws of nicotine in his lungs before she started talking.

"Our parents died when we were one, murdered actually…"

God damn, she wasn't doing great with relatives living, was she?

"Our aunt and uncle raised us, sort of, for ten years. Our uncle, he - well, he rather hated Harry. Harry could never do anything right, he could never be good enough for Uncle Vernon. And - and so Uncle Vernon used to beat on him, quite badly, really."

Yeah, that tracked. Billy figured as much, didn't know if it was someone before the man who owned the diner or not, but Harry was off enough that he thought it might have gone back further.

It was why Billy had slammed his fist in Kevin Arnett's teeth on the twins' first day. Arnett made some smart comment about jumping Harry and Billy didn't like the idea of seeing Harry jumped anymore than he'd want to see a beaten dog get kicked again.

"Harry doesn't talk about it, I think he's forgotten, really. He knows our relatives weren't nice, that he wasn't happy there, but I think that so many bad things happened he just - forgot? I don't know. I wish I could forget."

Billy breathed in deeply, filled his body with smoke, then blew it all out so it could fly across the quarry.

"Yeah, me too."

They didn't talk much after that, not about his dad or her uncle. Billy laid back against his windshield again and Sirianna scooted over until she fit just right in his arm. She asked about California, Billy asked where she grew up.

Sirianna grew up in England, in fucking England. Billy teased the shit out of her about tea and crumpets (Billy had no idea what crumpets were, but it sounded like an England thing). Sirianna said she could picture him surfing when he talked about California, Billy told her that she'd be fucking drooling if she saw it.

When she laughed and the breeze blew, Billy relaxed. It wasn't a bad way to waste the day, it wasn't a bad day to sit by the quarry with a pretty girl beside him and just talk.

"Where's baby bird at?" Billy asked her after a lull between them. Billy was already starting to grin when she huffed and rolled her eyes - as if Harry didn't fit the fucking image of a baby bird.

He was all awkward wings he didn't know how to use, big eyes that were always looking for his mama hen. If Max was that clingy, Billy didn't think he'd be able to stand her. Sirianna didn't seem to mind, Billy thought she was probably just as bad.

Billy didn't think he would mind, if she got clingy with him. Chicks did it sometimes and Billy pushed them away, made sure they knew that he wasn't interested. Sirianna was - Billy didn't want to push her away, he wanted her as close as she could get, wrapped up in his jacket, smiling just for him.

It would change, shit always did, but it was good until then.

"His name is Harry," Sirianna reminded him, like Billy didn't know. "And he's at school. He was worried about you actually, I told him that I'd be back by the time gym ends."

Billy looked down, raised an eyebrow. "Harry was worried about me?" he asked, calling her on her shit. That kid had ninety-nine fucking problems and Billy was not one of them.

"Well… we both were." Sirianna blushed, a pretty pink flush of her cheeks. "He's in a mood today anyway, he'll be fine."

Billy made a sound, just something so she knew he heard her, and settled back down. They would have to leave soon, Billy didn't want to. It was the quarry and it was Sirianna, it was just a peaceful little bubble that Billy didn't expect to have in Indiana.

"Billy?" Sirianna had a hold of Billy's hand and even if it was childish, some middle school shit, it felt nice so Billy hadn't pulled free. She squeezed his fingers and he knew she was about to pop their bubble. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

Of all the shit Billy thought she might say, that one wasn't so bad.

"Nah." Billy kept his cool, didn't start a fight over nothing. If he wanted a fight, he could find one. He didn't want one with her. "It's fine."

It was fine, Billy was fine, it was all fine. Sixteen more months and Billy was out of there.

Sirianna squeezed Billy's hand again, just something soft that managed to cut through him anyway.

"When it stops being fine, you can tell me," she said.

Billy smiled faintly because hadn't he said that? Almost exactly those words to Harry the day before? Did Harry tell her or were they just riding the same wave? Billy liked to think that Harry didn't say a word, that Billy just finally met someone who got it.

"Sure," he said, knowing it would keep being fine and he would deal with it the same way he always had. It wasn't so bad, not with days like that one.

Chapter Text

Jim knew in his gut that something was going to happen that day. It started with Powell waking him up with the sun to tell him that Hawkins Lab had released their security tapes. Jim grunted that he would be there soon, then had to clean up the boxes and trash he left in the living room from the beds and dresser he built.

God forbid he left it, Harry would dust the entire house in retaliation.

Sirianna woke up before Jim left and they danced around each other in the kitchen. She wanted to make breakfast for Harry and El, Jim just wanted some fucking coffee.

"I think it'll be a late day for me," Jim told her. "You kids going to be okay making dinner for yourself?"

Jim meant to make dinner before, but he wasn't much of a cook and Sirianna kept doing it anyway. If it didn't bother her, it didn't bother him. Kids could have some chores, teenagers could cook.

"I've been cooking dinner since I was a girl, I'm sure we'll survive," Sirianna said. Jim couldn't see her face, but he thought he heard a sarcastic eye roll in the mix.

And, well, fuck.

"How about I order pizza and have it delivered?" Jim offered instead. It was one thing to have a hobby, it was another thing to have a job ingrained in a kid since they were a younger kid.

Sirianna looked over her shoulder at Jim and he stayed real invested in his newspaper, coffee, and cigarette.

"I just said I would cook?" she said. "I don't mind."

"Yeah, well, I do." Jim stubbed out the rest of his smoke, drained his coffee cup and put it in the sink. He pointed it at and made sure she saw him. "Nobody washes that cup except for me, got it? Be home by seven, I'll have pizza delivered then."

A perk of being the Chief was that if Jim told one of the guys at the station to pick up pizza and drop it off at his place, they would do it. It was convenient, easy, and Jim wouldn't have to feel guilty about a single thing.

It got Jim a sweet little "Thank you" on his way out the door anyway. It was baby steps, small and frustrating for a grown man to take, but it would get them where they were headed eventually.

Powell was the only one at station when Jim arrived. He was slumped over his own cup of coffee and gestured vaguely at a box when Jim walked in.

"Some dick in a suit dropped it off when I got back from rounds." Powell straightened up and yawned. "Callahan is out at the Byers place now, Joyce called in another report about her kid being in the walls. If we don't find this kid, Joyce is going to end up in a loonie bin."

"I'll go talk to her today," Jim said. He needed to anyway, touch base and find out more about what she thought she was seeing or hearing. Jim meant to ask one of the kids about it, ask if it was some magic thing or if Joyce had lost it, but none of them had been especially chatty with him the day before.

Fuck Jim for thinking fifteen year olds needed their own bed, huh? It got a reaction out of Harry though, if ‘pissed as fuck' counted. Which, in Jim's book, it did.

Powell nodded and wished Jim luck before he left the station, walking like he was already half asleep. Jim reset the coffee maker, set it up to brew a full pot, then took the box of tapes to the interrogation room.

Jim didn't expect to find anything on them and he wasn't exactly disappointed. Hawkins cleaned their tracks well, but Jim was able to nail a timeline anyway.

"Gotcha, fuckers," he breathed. Jim rewound the tape, checked the timestamp in the corner.

Tuesday night, twenty-eighteen, something happened on those grounds. An hour later, twenty-one-zero-eight, something else happened.

Jim paused the tape where he had it so he could make a call. It took him a minute to find the number for the Wheeler family, the last people to see Will Byers. Jim thrummed his fingers impatiently on his desk while the phone rang. It was early, but surely one of the parents were awake and getting their kids off to school.

"Wheeler residence, this is Karen."

"Morning, Mrs Wheeler, this is Chief Hopper." Jim went to school with Karen, never did care much for her. She was a nosy bitch, always churning gossip, trying to get in the spotlight for some new information to feed her friends.

"Oh, Jim! How are you?"

Tired.

"Fine," Jim said curtly, keeping the call professional only. "I'm calling to ask you a question about Will Byers. Do you remember exactly what time he left your house on Tuesday?"

"Will? Hm, let me ask Mike, hold on."

Jim pulled the phone away from his ear when Karen fucking shrieked for her son. Jesus, what was wrong with people? Jim idly lit a cigarette while he waited for Karen to get him a time. He had it down somewhere, but he needed an exact time. If Karen could confirm it was after eight-eighteen, then Jim would have the exact timeline down.

And then he was going to nail those fuckers to the wall.

"Jim? It was a little after eight, we had a late dinner, at eight-thirty that night. Does that help any? Do you have any new leads or clues? Poor Mike has just been—"

"Yup. Thanks, Karen. Bye now."

Jim hung the phone up and pulled his notepad out, started a new timeline…

Tuesday: 2018: E. escapes lab

Tuesday: 2108: W. taken in lab

Where those stupid pricks fucked up was in their editing. It looked real good, hard to notice. Except it started raining twice in that tape - once at a quarter after eight, again right about nine. The edits were good, real good, but it didn't rain a drop in the county on Tuesday night.

That static on the screen had to be hiding something and Jim was sure it was the escape of one kidnapped kid and the arrival of another. How it happened, Jim wasn't sure, but he planned on figuring it out real soon.

Jim moved the tapes and the TV to his office so that he could collect as much information on the property as he could. He started jotting down areas where surveillance seemed weakest, doors that were opened more frequently, and the time that guards changed shifts.

It very likely was a suicide mission, but Jim wouldn't sit idly by while Joyce Byers lost her son.

Around ten, Jim was interrupted with a phone call Flo insisted he take. Jim paused the tape, impatiently grabbed the phone.

"What?"

"Hello, Chief Hopper, this is Mindy Parish at Hawkins High School. I was calling to inform you that your foster daughter is sick."

Foster…?

For fuck's sake.

"Is that so?" Jim stretched back in his chair, checked his watch. What kind of bug only took three hours to kick in?

"Yes, Chief. Would you like to come pick her up?"

Jim sighed and said he would, seemed like a thing he should do. He needed to go see Joyce anyway, he could kill two birds with one stone before he returned to his planning.

With any luck, Sirianna was faking it and Jim could get a few questions answered on the drive.

It wasn't Sirianna who met Jim outside the school when he pulled up, it was Harry. Harry was standing stiffly on the steps, his hands jammed in his pockets and his shoulders set.

The kid looked ready for a fight, which Jim wasn't going to give him. Jim pulled up by the stairs, rolled his window down.

"The school called, said your sister is sick," Jim said, perfectly calm.

It took Harry a second of glaring at his shoes, some damn sneakers that looked like they actually fit, but he got the words out eventually.

"She walked home," Harry said. The kid still sounded pretty pissed, Jim didn't mind it. It was better for him to have some fire, kid couldn't be a victim his whole life.

"Yeah?" Jim tried to figure out the game. Sirianna was playing hooky and Harry was the distraction? "She couldn't wait five minutes for me to show up?"

Harry raised his head enough for Jim to see that the anger he thought he heard might have been plain old embarrassment. The kid's face was bright red, he could fry an egg on his cheeks.

"Menstruation."

It was a good thing Jim didn't have a cigarette lit because he would have fucking choked on it. That boy looked Jim dead in the eyes and said - said…

"Got it," Jim said quickly. There was a bag on Harry's back, Jim figured it was two-for-one on twins skipping school. He leaned across the cab of his cruiser and opened the door for him. "I'll give you a ride back then."

Harry nodded and some of the tension leaked out of his shoulders as he climbed up in the car. Jim cleared his throat when Harry clicked his seatbelt and shifted the car into drive.

"Next time, feel free to tell me she's got a cold," Jim told him.

"Chrissy said you wouldn't ask any questions if I said it."

God help him, Jim fucking laughed. It had crossed his mind that he was drastically outnumbered by kids with magic in his house. They were close enough that they'd cover each other, could cover up anything they wanted probably.

Thank God that Harry was a shitty liar.

Jim kept the car radio off and his window rolled down while he slowly made his way through town. He was taking the long route, an extra lap around town to see if he couldn't check on Sirianna while he drove. Harry was quiet, seemed to relax some the longer that Jim didn't speak.

They drove past the park, Jim saw a flash of black hair disappear down the trail that led to the quarry. Harry must have seen exactly what Jim did, because his head whipped to the side and they caught each other's eyes.

"She doing something stupid?" Jim asked him.

"No, sir."

"Great." Jim started accelerating again, not too worked up over a kid skipping school. He didn't think either of the twins were real gung-ho on academics and who could blame ‘em? Jim could call the school later, find out which kids missed - for a private case, of course, real classified - and go from there.

"Why don't you and I grab lunch, you can answer a few questions I have, and then I'll take you home, sir?" Jim suggested, emphasizing the sir as hard as he could. Jim could see Harry blinking at him behind his glasses, he could see the second he put it together too.

Jim would be damned if he was the monster that needed tiptoed around by any of the kids. There was respect, then there was fear. Jim didn't see any purpose in giving any of the kids in his house anything else to fear in life.

"Okay," Harry said, his go-to retort. It was better than nothing and Jim hoped the kid could give him some more information on what he would be walking into once he was good and ready to search Hawkins Lab for Will Byers.

"Okay then." Jim turned to head downtown, figured he could grab a couple of burgers from the shitty soda place off the square. It wasn't good, Jim never ate there when he had choices.

Benny's was closed down, another fucking headache for him to deal with eventually. Benny didn't have any sort of an official will, but what he did have were two copies of guardianship records that Jim had forged. The gal from the county commissioner's office heard Benny adopted some kids, called the high school. The school confirmed it, suddenly Hawkins County sent a letter to the police station that Benny Hammond's estate was to go to his next of kin.

Which would be the two kids who spent a total of eighteen days in Benny's care. Jim didn't have an issue with it, Benny wasn't a wealthy man, what he had in his bank had covered cremation costs. It was the property and business he owned that gave Jim a fucking headache.

Benny had a nice chunk of land, his trailer and the diner sat on it. It was worth some money, which was why Jim wasn't surprised when Benny's ex-wife filed a claim for it. They'd have a court hearing, Jim figured, and the guardianship forms he made were going to be under real close scrutiny.

The whole thing was a fucking headache and it meant that there was only one burger place in town and the food wasn't worth a damn. It made Jim's chest twinge to even go there, something he wouldn't bother with if he didn't have Harry with him.

Jim brought the burgers outside to the cruiser with a couple of malts. The soda shop always had music and crap going on, Jim figured he wouldn't get two words from the kid if he tried to ask questions inside.

"You like chocolate?" Jim passed a malt to Harry, followed it with a burger.

Harry shrugged; Jim didn't know if it meant he didn't know or just didn't want to answer.

"Right." Jim settled in to eat and waited for Harry to get a few bites in until he started his questions. It wasn't an interrogation, but Jim wasn't new to a reluctant witness either.

"I think that you're right and Will Byers is in the place where El escaped from," Jim started. "I'm going to try and get him, but I don't know what I'll be walking into."

Harry stopped eating, but he didn't bolt from the car. It was a sort of progress. Jim didn't look at him, didn't put any extra weight on the kid. Jim knew he was asking for a lot, nobody wanted a trip down Trauma Lane, but there was a life at stake.

"El said she was part of Project Dimension, I wondered what you knew about that," Jim said, trailing off and giving Harry a chance to answer him. He could take his time, Jim could be patient.

As long as he said something, gave Jim something. Jim had what was looking like a suicide mission coming up, he had a good woman crying about her kid being stuck in the walls. Jim needed something.

And what Harry gave him was nothing. Not one fucking word. The kid shut down, locked up, didn't do jack except breathe.

Jim ate his burger, had a smoke. Finished off his malt, had another smoke. In all that time, Harry didn't so much as move.

"Fine." Jim shifted the cruiser in reverse, decided to try one more thing before he called the kid a lost cause and waited to ask Sirianna his questions. It was playing dirty, but Will Byers could already be dead and if he wasn't, it was Harry himself who said he would be.

So if Jim had to play dirty, so be it.

Harry stayed silent during the drive through Hawkins. His eyes were glassy behind his glasses and Jim could feel like a dick for what he was about to do later. Later, when he had as much information as he needed. Later, when he might have a snowball's chance in saving Will.

Jim pulled up to the Byers house, shook his head again at the tarp covered hole in the wall. He climbed out of the car, walked around the cab, opened Harry's door.

"Out," he said, an order as much as anything. Jim didn't want to throw any weight around, didn't want to go backward, but he wanted Joyce to lose her son even less. If Harry spoke up, said one damn word to him, Jim might have tried a different tactic.

Harry left the car, he was real careful to stay out of Jim's reach. Jim wasn't interested in smacking the kid, he wasn't going to touch a hair on his head. Jim tilted his head for Harry to follow him and then led the way up the porch so he could knock on Joyce's door.

"Joyce? It's Hop," Jim called. He could hear her inside, crying it sounded like. "Open the door."

Harry stood stiffly behind Jim, his hands behind his back and his eyes a thousand miles away. He didn't react when Joyce opened the door, nothing except for a blink when she said his name.

"Hop!" Joyce was a wreck. Jim had never seen her as pale and unshowered as she was. She looked like hell, she looked like Diana when Sarah was admitted to the hospital.

Joyce looked like a woman preparing to lose a part of herself.

"And… Harry, right?" Joyce nodded to herself when she looked past Jim to Harry. She smiled tightly at him. "You're friends with my son, Jonathan."

Harry nodded while Jim was distracted by what he saw past Joyce, inside her house.

"Are those Christmas lights?" Jim let himself inside, walked right past Joyce, to get a better look. He thought it was Christmas lights, maybe Jonathan's idea to decorate or something to distract Joyce, but it was something else altogether.

There were twenty-six bulbs hung on the wall, each one had a letter of the alphabet painted beneath it. The lights were plugged in, Jim could see the extension cords ran through the house, all of them shined at him, highlighting the fucking creepy set up.

"What the fuck…?" Jim breathed to himself, wondering for the first time if he had it all wrong. Joyce lost it, that was fucking clear. Did she lose it because her kid was gone or did she lose it before then?

"This is going to sound crazy…" Joyce said, popping up at Jim's side. "But Will is here, Hop. I know he is. He's - he's talking to me."

She was right, it did sound insane. But for Harry's benefit…

"Alright, Joyce." Jim moved to the middle of the room, pulled a chair over by the hole in the wall, and pulled a fresh cigarette from his pack. "Tell me everything that's been going on."

"Why?" Joyce was defensive then, she crossed her arms and couldn't hide from the chill filling the house. "So you can call me crazy? Have me locked up?"

Jim would have told her he didn't think she was crazy - even if it all sounded batshit. Harry did it for him though —

Harry had been staring at the photographs on the bookshelf, the family pictures of two boys and their mom. Jim didn't think nothing of it, thought maybe his plan was working out just fine, until Harry turned to Joyce and waved his hand at the hole in the wall.

Quicker than Jim could swear, too quick to have stopped him if he wanted to, the hole started repairing itself. Piece by piece, every chopped bit flew from around the room and put itself back in place. It took two seconds, if that, before the tarp dropped harmlessly to the floor, no longer needed.

"I don't think you're crazy," Harry said, his soft voice seeming loud in the absolute silence.

Joyce's chin was on her chest as she gaped at the wall that was a little chipped, but fine, and Jim had to stifle a grin.

He had to hand it to the kid, Harry knew how to make his point.

It took Joyce a drink and two cigarettes before she was able to tell them what she had been dealing with.

Jim couldn't make heads or tails of it, honestly. Joyce swore she saw Will in the walls, pressing against the plaster and trying to escape. Will called her three times, it caught her phone on fire each time. When Joyce decided to put up the lights, Will spelled out a message to her —

Upside down.

It made about as much sense to Jim as magic itself did, but Harry listened intently. Jim saw him filling away each bit of information - the kid was sharp, Jim would bet on it. Harry stayed present through the whole conversation, he leaned against the bookcase and his hand kept floating back to one of the framed photos, the one of Joyce and the boys together.

Joyce talked herself into a slump, looked pathetic and broken by the time she was done. Her eyes shined when she looked at Harry though and Jim could see what she wanted clear as day —

"Does that - does it make sense?" she asked him. "Can you get him? Will?"

"When's the last time he sent you a message?" Harry asked, looking at the Christmas lights with a furrowed brow.

"Last night."

That had to be a good sign, it meant that Will wasn't dead like Harry assumed he would be. If Will was anything like his mom, then he was fighting hard.

"Jim?" Joyce looked at Jim when Harry didn't say anything else. The kid was there, he was thinking hard - Jim could see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

"Joyce, he's a kid too," Jim reminded Joyce quietly. If Harry could help Jim get Will back, Jim would gladly take his help. Hell, Jim might not be able to do it without his help. But Jim wouldn't put the weight of Will's life on Harry's shoulders, he was just a kid.

Joyce's eyes went soft and she bit her lip when she nodded, she was always a maternal one - trying to patch up injured birds and showing up to school with soup anytime one of her friends was sick. Jim didn't need to hammer it in her head that Harry was a kid, she saw it.

"Jonathan talked about you, and your sister," Joyce told Harry. "I'm glad - glad he has some good friends."

"Yeah, can you… sh…" Harry was still staring hard at the lights, focused on something enough that he all but told Joyce to shut up. Jim shrugged when Joyce turned back to him, if the kid needed quiet to think then she should be quiet.

Hell, Jim was tickled over the kid saying what he needed. Next time maybe they'd tack on a please.

Joyce watched Harry, Harry stared at the wall. After a minute or two of silence, Harry's fingers began tapping in front of him like he was playing an invisible keyboard. As he moved, lights flashed.

H-E-L-L-O W-I-L-L

"Do you think he can —"

H-I H-A-R-R-Y

"Brilliant," Harry breathed, his eyes lighting up brighter than the lights did. His fingers kept tapping, Jim and Joyce didn't make a sound.

C-A-N U C M-E

"Shorthand, handy," Jim muttered, watching Harry as much as he was the lights.

Y-E-S

"Can you hear me?" Harry asked.

Y-E-S

"Hm." Harry hummed and stared at the wall a while longer, just thinking. "Are you with people? Wizards in white coats?"

N-O-T N-O-W

"Who is that?" Joyce asked, looking from Harry to the lights to Jim. "Who are wizards in white coats?"

Harry answered the same time Will did —

T-H-E-M

"Them."

Jim and Harry left pretty quickly after that. The kid didn't look so hot and Jim didn't have any answers for Joyce yet. He couldn't tell her about Hawkins Lab, couldn't trust that she wouldn't go busting in there and give away the element of surprise that Jim had.

Joyce had hugged Harry, hugged him tight enough that Jim winced. Harry didn't move from her, didn't squirm or cringe away. Joyce tried to hug Jim, but he was faster than Harry had been at avoiding it.

"You did good," Jim told Harry when they left. Jim had hoped that a terrified mother might knock some guilt into Harry, pressure him into helping Jim save Will. Jim didn't expect Harry to single-handedly reassure Joyce of her sanity and to crack some code only he probably understood.

Harry nodded when he entered the cab of the cruiser, Jim got the sense he wasn't being brushed off but that Harry was still thinking hard about the whole thing. Jim hoped he could make sense of it, because Jim sure as fuck couldn't.

"Project Dimension…" Harry frowned and his fingers were fluttering on his knee. "Project Echo. Dimension. Echo. Echo. Dimension."

Jim wasn't a wizard, wasn't some government paid figure in a white coat, but he wasn't a dumbass. If El said she had been part of Project Dimension right there in Hawkins, Indiana - then he'd wager that Harry and Sirianna were part of Project Echo in wherever the fuck they had been kept.

Kids. With magic powers. In government fucking sanctioned cells.

It made Jim clench the steering wheel and see red.

"Harry." Jim interrupted the loop that Harry seemed stuck on, the repetition of ‘echo' and ‘dimension'. "What does it all mean?" he asked. He hoped Harry had an answer for him, because Jim needed to make a plan.

Harry sighed and sounded ten years older, twenty maybe, when he replied. "It means… I don't know. It means that Will's alive, but only because they want him to be."

Jim had been willing to accept that as an answer for the time being. He had been willing to accept that Harry was doing his best, any idiot with fucking eyes could see that, and that Jim could try and get some information from the girls.

If Will Byers was still alive, Jim could take what Harry gave him and continue trying to make a plan.

That was until Jim himself returned home with pizza that afternoon to sit down, make some house rules, talk with the girls, and he got the call.

Will Byers' body had been pulled from a sewage pipe in the woods.

Chapter Text

Harry needed, more than ever before, a library.

If Harry had twenty-four hours in a library and no headache, he just knew he could figure out where Jonathan's brother was. It was a problem that kept playing in his mind over and over through the whole day.

Will was somewhere, somewhere that he could manipulate his mum's house, respond to messages. Will could talk to Harry through colorful lights, he wasn't with Them.

So where was he? Another dimension? What did that mean?

Harry wanted to ask El about it, he wanted to ask her what project she had been a part of. The problem he had was Hop. Hop had been following Harry around and kept looking at him and talking to him.

Hop was half the reason Harry's head ached, he was sure of it. The other half was the questions Harry couldn't answer, the guesses he had no clues for.

How was Will manipulating muggle electronics? How was he there but not there? Was he already dead? Did poltergeists appear instantly after their death or did they spend time invisible?

If Harry had a library then he could research it all. It was fascinating, just the sort of thing that Harry would have spent days learning about with Theo.

Why had they been so interested in the paths of tornadoes and hurricanes? Why didn't they ever wonder about dimensions of magic and poltergeists?

El would know, Harry wanted to talk to her about it.

Harry bid his time, shook his head when El kept glancing at him. When Hop was gone, Harry planned on talking to her. Siri returned home not long after Hop drove Harry home, but she seemed as distracted as Harry was.

Hop told them all to sit for dinner, he wanted to talk to them all. It wasn't anything interesting, just ‘house rules' that Harry mostly ignored.

Be home by nine on weeknights? Where would Harry go? Harry was pretty sure he was told that once a week he was supposed to make dinner and do the dishes, but he tuned Hop out in favor of thinking more about Will Byers.

Where was he? Where was Will at? Could he still be alive? What were dimensions? Were there pockets of magic curled up around the world where nobody could see them?

Could a muggle be a poltergeist? Could they control one? Could a poltergeist burn up a telephone but make lights blink for messages?

Why didn't Harry have a library? Why couldn't Harry go to Hogwarts for one day, just long enough to check out fifty books? Maybe - maybe long enough to see Theo, ask him to help him solve another mystery.

"I think that the Cerberus on the third floor is guarding something," Harry said. He dropped a stack of books on the table in front of Theo and he grinned. "We should figure out what it is."

Harry didn't care about house rules, Siri could tell him about it later, he cared that there was magic Harry didn't understand being used. Harry didn't understand it, wouldn't understand it. Not until El told him what it was - if she knew.

El didn't even get to go to Hogwarts, El was born and raised in her cage. But El had the eleven on her arm, she was the subject for Project Dimension. As much as Harry knew about Project Echo, about the search for immortality and rebirth, El had to know something about dimensions.

"El, you don't have to do homework, but can you read?" Hop was still going on about rules and expectations, even if Harry wished he would go away. "I can grab you some books—"

Harry wasn't the only one at the table who jolted when the black radio clipped to the shoulder of Hop's uniform suddenly let out an ear-splitting shriek of noise. Hop's hand flew to his belt, shutting off the noise, then he clicked the little button on the side of his shoulder-radio.

Hop set down the slice of pizza he had been halfway through to talk, "Chief Hopper to base, what's going on?"

Siri looked at Harry and he shook his head, he had no idea what that was about. He was curious about why Siri had been so quiet since she returned home though. Maybe Harry shouldn't have been relying on her to tell him the rules, she had barely talked all afternoon. She didn't feel sad, but distracted somehow.

Maybe Siri found her own mystery, her own list of unanswered questions.

"Chief, the state boys called. They - they've got a body, Chief. It fits the description of the Byers boy."

Hop was out of his seat in an instant, Harry jumped up as well.

The Byers boy? Will? They found him or his body?

"Stay here," Hop told them all, quickly pulling his coat and boots back on. "Nobody leaves tonight, got it?"

"They found a body?" Siri asked immediately. "Is it Jonathan's brother? Can I go with you? Should you call their mum?"

"Sounds like it, I don't know, no, and no." Hop was in a rush and Harry bit his tongue, waited for him to stop with Siri's questions. "Everyone stay here, I mean it. I'll be home when I can."

"Can I come?"

Siri and El both looked at Harry as if he lost his mind, but he didn't. Harry didn't lose his mind, he just - he thought that Will was alive. A few hours ago, he had been alive. People died quickly, they could die fast, but Will was alive.

Had been? Will had been?

Or had he been dead the entire time? Had Will been controlling a poltergeist from a dimension of magic or was Will the poltergeist?

Hop paused, seemed to consider Harry for a moment.

"Yeah, come on then," he said. "Grab your coat."

"Harry!" Siri stopped Harry on his way to their room. She grabbed his arm and still looked like Harry lost his mind. "What are you doing?" she whispered. "You don't - Har, you don't want to see that."

If Will was dead - if it was his body and not him - then Harry needed to see it, needed to know. So, yes, Harry did want to see.

"I have to," Harry told her, not bothering to whisper. El had followed Siri, Hop knew Harry needed to see. "They had him, Siri."

They did, Will said so. They had him and Will escaped somewhere and Harry didn't know what Project Dimension was, but he knew what Project Echo had been and how it ended.

"More reason for you to not go!" Siri hissed. "It could be dangerous!"

"This could be dangerous…" Siri chewed her lower lip and looked over her shoulder at Ron Weasley. Ron didn't look scared, he looked interested in everything that Harry and Theo found out about Nicholas Flamel and his stone.

"It could be," Harry agreed. It would be really dangerous if someone stole the stone for Voldemort.

"Brilliant. I'm in!" Siri beamed at Harry and Harry beamed right back. He knew she would want to go, Siri loved adventures. "Let me grab Dad's cloak!"

"Oi!" Harry yelled after her when Siri and Ron took off for the Gryffindor Tower. "It was my week with the cloak, you brat!"

"Then don't make your password so easy to guess!" Siri yelled back, her laughter echoing in the corridor behind her.

"Wait a minute, what's that mean?" Theo demanded when Siri and Ron were gone and they were left to wait on them. "Did - Harry! Did your sister break into our dorm?!"

"We broke into hers before," Harry shrugged. "She was probably jealous."

Siri was much older, fifteen and not eleven, but it was her eyes that changed. Siri used to love adventures, she never cared about danger. When Siri was eleven, she was excited by danger and adventure.

It was Them that changed it, changed her.

"I have to," Harry said. He did, Harry had to go. Harry needed to know. "I'll explain later."

Maybe.

Harry wasn't sure he could explain, not without a library. Didn't they used to have money? A whole vault full of money their parents left for them? How could Harry get that and order books with it?

Would Siri let him? Was there even money left or did it get lost when Harry and Siri were taken? What happened to gold without an owner? They didn't have any kids, no other family…

It didn't matter, Harry needed to think about Will, not gold.

But if he had gold then he could get books which would help him answer his questions about Will…

"Be careful." Siri threw her arms around Harry and squeezed for only three seconds, Harry counted. Joyce Byers squeezed him for ten seconds, it had felt like ages. Siri's embrace was over too quickly and then he was blinking and grabbing a coat, blinking and in Hop's car.

Hop turned on the sirens and flashing red and blue lights on the top of his car, making Harry regret riding with him. Harry probably could have walked, it probably wasn't a far distance. Anything would be better than the wailing that Hop's car was doing.

"You have to stay in the car when we get there," Hop said. He had to yell to be heard over the siren and that was no good either, just as bad really. "You can't be at an active scene. Hell, I shouldn't have even let you come with me."

Harry nodded; he probably shouldn't have. It didn't seem like police officers would be allowed to take kids who lived with them to places where bodies possibly were. Harry should have said ‘thank you', but it was all he could do to not close his eyes and cover his ears while Hop drove like a maniac.

They sped through the town, the radio on Hop's shoulder chirped to life a few times with updates that Harry couldn't hear properly. Hop smoked, he smoked so much, and Harry subtly rolled the knob on his door so that the glass window would let some clean air in the car.

"If you'd ask me to quit smoking around you, I'd probably do it," Hop said when he turned the car hard and sped down a road covered in gravel. Little rocks flew behind them and a dirt cloud was kicked up, it was still better than cigarettes.

Harry could tell Hop he hated the smell, that he didn't want smoke in his face and the taste in his mouth. But Hop was the adult - it was his car, his house, his life that Harry and Siri and El were trampling all over. Harry wasn't going to ask him to do something and risk his sister (sisters? El felt like a sister to Harry, they had the same mark, the same life - Echo, Dimension) not having a place to sleep.

So, no. Harry wasn't going to ask him anything. Harry was going to put his face as close to the window as he could instead.

Was it Will's body? Did They - did Will escape and They found him and killed him? Why did they have him in the first place? What use had he been for them? Will was a muggle, non-magical, no magic.

Had he been used for a new project? Was Will another kid who had been playing outside and been taken to a lab, thrown in a cell, tortured and then killed?

Where did they bury the bodies? Where would Harry and Siri have been buried at if they didn't escape?

Where were their parents buried at? Siri would want to be buried with them, Harry was sure of it. It wouldn't have mattered, their bodies would have probably been —

They would have hidden their bodies, burned them until there was no evidence that Harry or Sirianna Potter had ever existed. They were neat, careful, smart. Harry wasn't sure that he and Siri did escape - sometimes he thought They had to have let them leave because They were too clever.

If They killed Will, his body never would have been found.

Harry opened his mouth, planning on telling Hop that, but the car jerked to a hard stop, slamming Harry forward, and Hop was jumping out.

"Stay put," Hop said before he crossed into the mixture of colorful lights flashing in the dark and bodies in uniforms that blended in with the trees.

Harry wasn't sure which it was - stay in the car or stay put? Staying put would mean Harry couldn't leave his seat, staying in the car would mean that Harry could slide over in Hop's seat to get closer to where the clumps of police officers were.

Harry slowly unclicked his belt and started to inch over in the cab. Hop told him to stay in the car first, that was the first rule. Stay in the car. He meant it. He said that. Harry was in the car.

Outside the window, when Harry squinted to see through the fog that filled the woods where everyone seemed to be gathered, were mostly just police officers. A few of them had on the same tan uniform that Hop wore, a few of them wore black uniforms. There were two people in dark blue, their shirts said EMS on the back. The blue ones had a bed sort of thing, a black bed with long legs and wheels on it.

There was a bag on the bed, a zipped up bag that was probably Will-sized. Hop was the one to approach the bed, he said something and one of the people in blue unzipped the bag.

Harry couldn't see inside the bag, but - but he could feel it. Harry could feel the rush of magic from the bag, the magic that knocked the air from his lungs and made him gasp.

Someone screamed, not Harry and not Hop.

Harry's head turned away from where Hop swayed and he searched the opposite direction for who screamed. It took him a minute to find them in the darkness, but standing in a group behind a sign were a group of kids. They were young, three boys - probably Will's age.

The boy who screamed had to be the one that had tears streaming down his face, the boy with the pale skin and black hair. That boy - that boy looked like he had just lost his best friend in the world. He looked like he was maybe 12, maybe the same age Theo would have been when he boarded the Hogwarts Express and Harry never met him there.

Harry would have cried, if he were the one who couldn't find Theo. They were best friends, they had been best friends since their very first night together at Hogwarts. Harry didn't want to see Theo zipped up in a bag and that boy, that boy who looked crushed, didn't want to see his best friend in a bag either.

But Harry didn't think it was his best friend.

Will Byers was normal, non-magical. Harry met him before, he sat beside him in a car. Harry knew Will had been a muggle. Why would his body give Harry a rush of magic? Why would They let his body be found?

They wouldn't, unless They had a reason to.

Harry's fingers twitched and he blinked - he had the door handle in his hand. Hop said stay put, stay in the car. Harry blinked again and the door was open and he had one foot out, one more foot out. Harry made himself as silent as he could, made it so nobody would notice him if he was careful.

There were too many questions, not enough answers - no books, no money for books, no library.

Harry crept slowly from the car toward the bed with the bag on it. The feeling of magic got stronger with every step he took, every footstep forward. At three steps away, Harry was sure that there was more magic than Will inside the bag. At two steps away, Harry wondered what was going on.

When Harry was only one step away, when Harry could see the swollen and discolored face that was exposed inside the bag, it made sense to him.

That body, that golem, was not Will Byers. That golem was Harry - sent to be a distraction, something to help Will be kept hidden away. Siri asked Harry to keep Hop from tracking her down when she left school - They sent a body bloated with water and changed with magic to be found in a sewage drain so that nobody went looking for Will.

And Harry realized then, for the first time since he first wondered about it years ago, what Theo must have been told about his disappearance.

Harry doubled back to the car after he got a good look at the fake-Will. A couple of his questions were answered, but he needed El to answer the rest.

Where would Will be that wasn't with Them, but a place he couldn't get free from? A place where he could control a poltergeist or became one? What was Project Dimension?

"Project Echo…" A finger traced the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead, left him twisting and turning in the chair he was strapped to. "I've waited a long time for this," the man said. "How did you survive the killing curse? It's fascinating. I have many questions, Harry Potter, and I believe that you are the key to answering them all."

What questions did El answer?

Harry was still wondering about dimensions and echoes when the car door opened and Hop sat back down. Hop seemed older, more weighed down, when Harry looked at him.

"They killed him," he said.

"Er… they didn't," Harry corrected him. "Not yet, anyway."

Harry didn't think Hop actually liked him much, he spent a lot of time ordering Harry to do things he didn't want to do and glaring. It wasn't Harry's fault that Will wasn't the body they found, it wasn't his fault that Will was missing. Harry wanted to help, he did, it - it was an impossible task.

Hop glared then, right at Harry. Harry looked down at the seat between them, focused on the burn marks in the leather, the rips and the stuffing that poked through. It was still neat, being able to see.

"Harry, that boy is dead," Hop said, slowly and loudly. Harry shrank back toward his door, focused hard on the truth of the situation. "You're telling me it was an accident?"

Harry didn't… no, Harry didn't say that. Harry didn't want to say anything, not if it was going to start a fight. Except Will wasn't dead and Hop started talking about taking Harry home so he could go ‘break the news' to Joyce and Harry's breath got stuck somewhere between his lungs and his mouth.

"That wasn't Will!" Harry said, gasping it when he forced the air through his body. "It - that body was dead, it wasn't Will."

"I swear to God…" Hop jerked the car off the side of the road and Harry didn't have time to worry about why before Hop was turning in his seat and pointing at Harry. "Harry, explain. Now. Because if I go tell Joyce that her son isn't dead, I need some fucking evidence. Otherwise, she's going to be holding on hope for the rest of her life."

That didn't exactly seem like it was Harry's problem. But Hop was being loud and Harry didn't actually want Joyce to cry over someone who wasn't her son. Harry didn't want anyone to cry about someone who wasn't actually dead.

Joyce hugged Harry for ten seconds. She would cry over her son for much longer.

"It's magic," Harry tried to explain, in quick and choppy sentences. "Looks like Will, isn't. Nobody looks for a dead person."

Siri. Harry needed Siri. Siri could explain better than Harry could. But that body was a distraction, it was brilliant really. Why would anyone go looking for Will when his body was pulled from a drain? It meant he was still being used by Them; and if he was being used, he was alive.

So not a poltergeist, probably. He could still be controlling one somehow.

Harry wanted ten books on poltergeists and Theo to help him research it all.

Hop didn't seem to understand Harry at first, the way he stared at him with his lips curved downward and his forehead wrinkled. He slowly relaxed though, he slowly breathed in and out in an even stroke.

"They're faking his death," Hop said. Harry nodded enthusiastically, he did understand! "They took a body, made it look like Will, set it up to be found."

Exactly!

"How sure are you?"

Harry was… very sure. Very. Harry knew of kids who died, kids who he had seen once or twice in the lab corridors and never again. They wouldn't have put their bodies in drains - they would have been gone with no one ever the wiser.

"Very," Harry said. "When they kill him, you'll never find his body."

They didn't make mistakes, not really. Siri called it freedom, Harry thought that it was a second part of Their plan.

"Yeah, alright." Hop scrubbed his face with both hands before he pulled the car back on the street and started driving. "So what the fuck do I tell Joyce Byers?"

That also wasn't exactly Harry's problem. He thought Hop should be honest, tell her that Will wasn't dead yet, but he would be soon. As soon as They were done with him, he would be killed. And his body would never, ever, be found.

Maybe he should tell her that. If he wanted to be honest.

Hop didn't take Harry home first, he mumbled a lot about ‘bullshit' and drove Harry directly back to the Byers house. Steve's car was in the driveway, Harry couldn't imagine why.

Harry warily left the car when Hop did, rather preferring to stay in the car but ordered to leave it. There were going to be a load of people inside the house, all probably upset and noisy.

"Yeah, I know." Hop knocked on the door before he acknowledged the scowl on Harry's face. "You're the magic expert though, kid."

Harry was not an expert, he was an experiment. A distinction he didn't get to make before the door was thrown open by Joyce Byers. Joyce Byers who was crying, loudly.

"Hop? Is it…?" Joyce didn't seem able to even finish her sentence before a sob broke through and Harry edged past her to find the feeling that - yeah, Siri was there. So was El.

Siri was sitting beside Jonathan on the couch and had his hand in both of hers. It looked like Siri had been crying too, which Harry hated. El stood in the corner of the room, peering up at the lights, near Steve. Steve didn't look like he had been crying, but Harry got the impression from the room that nobody was especially happy.

"Tell her." Hop followed Harry in the house and had his arm around Joyce's shoulders. He paused when he saw Siri and El, though he only sighed quietly before fixing his gaze and orders on Harry again.

Not Siri, not El - Harry.

"In many more words than you used for me, tell Joyce what you told me," Hop said.

How many more words? Harry couldn't remember how many words he used the first time? If he used the same amount of words, would that work? Did it need to be more than ten extra words?

Everyone was staring at Harry and his fingers were tapping on his leg while sweat dripped on his back.

"Har, it's okay." Siri stood up and walked to where Harry stood. She took one of his hands and squeezed it with a reassuring look and soft voice. "Tell us what happened, Bubby, in however many words you need."

Harry started to look around, at all the people staring at him, and Siri twisted so that it was still her that he was looking at.

"Just tell me then," she said. "Pretend they're not here. It's me and you. Tell me what happened."

Just to Siri? Harry… Harry could do that. Harry could close his eyes, pretend that they were in a cell together; his head would be on Siri's lap, her hand would be on his forehead. Harry could talk then, he could explain without everyone's eyes and expectations of word counts.

"They took Will, the wizards in the white coats. I - I don't know why, he's a muggle. But they took him, for Project Dimension or another project. He can communicate, through the lights. I think - I think he's controlling a poltergeist? I don't know how, I don't have a library."

"That's okay, Bubby. So the White Coats have him?"

"Yes." Harry was sure. "They want people to think he's dead, they want it so nobody ever goes looking for him…"

Did they fake Harry and Siri's deaths? How? A group of muggle policemen could be fooled with disfigured faces made to look like the right person, but - but wouldn't there have been wizards who looked for Harry and Siri? There was that teacher that liked Siri a lot… Professor McGonagall. She would look for Siri and maybe Hagrid too. Maybe even Professor Dumbledore, maybe Ron Weasley's family. They would have all been looking for Siri - they couldn't have been tricked with magic.

How did they do it? What did they tell Theo? How did they do it?

"Harry, what did they do to make people think Will's - that he's gone?"

Harry shook off his thoughts at Siri's question, tightened his grip on her hand, and tried to remember what he was saying.

"They had a body, they made it look like Will. That means he's alive, Siri, he's alive. Because They want people to think he's dead. They - They never would let a body be found. Remember those kids? The other kids? They didn't drop their bodies in sewers, they couldn't. That's messy and it doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense to let their bodies be found."

"You're right, it doesn't." Siri understood because she always did, she was - Siri was all Harry needed in the world. "So you think that the White Coats still have Will, but they want people to stop looking for him, so they sent out a fake body?"

"The body is real, but not Will," Harry said, breathing easily with Siri there to understand him. "That body was changed, with magic. I could feel it, Siri."

"You're truly brilliant, you are." Siri pulled Harry's hand, pulled him forward so she could hug him again. Harry kept his eyes closed, but he lifted his arms to hug her back.

Because Siri was there, not dead. She was there and she understood and she was safe.

Chapter Text

It was sick. It was sick and wrong and the worst possible timing in the entire freaking world.

But… but did Harry get glasses?

Yeah, there was a body that apparently wasn't Will's, sounded more like a mutant-magic-golem or something, but Steve couldn't stop glancing at Harry, at his glasses. God, it was sick.

It was like the second Steve thought ‘maybe I'm gay', the gay thoughts turned up their volume in his head and it was making Steve want to climb out of his body to get away from them.

Did Harry like his glasses? Did he know how he looked in his sweater with his glasses and his eyes so freaking bright? Should Steve tell him? Steve could not tell him, that would - that would… it wouldn't be good.

Steve needed to shut his mouth and maybe focus on Jonathan and not the sick curiosity of ‘how different would it be to kiss Harry than a girl?'

The whole situation was sick though so Steve didn't want to be too hard on himself. Steve was only there because Sirianna had called him and asked for a ride. Steve would have said no, he didn't really feel like being a taxi or being around Harry just yet, but she said Jonathan's brother might have died.

Then Harry said he didn't die.

That he was… trapped? Kidnapped? By wizards in white coats? They kidnapped Will, changed a dead body to look like him, to… to throw the police off the case? It kind of made sense, kind of. Maybe if Steve understood half of what they were talking about then it would make more sense.

Sirianna clearly believed Harry because when he finished explaining how he was apparently the smartest person in the room, she shifted so her arm was around him and her chin was up in the air.

"If Harry says it's not Will, then it's not Will," she told Chief Hopper directly. "Harry's the most powerful wizard I know, and he - we - know the White Coats best."

The little girl - the sister/not-sister - made a quiet sound while she stared curiously up at the weird freaking Christmas lights and Sirianna backtracked.

"And El does too, of course."

"Of course." Jonathan sounded faint - shocked, probably, he looked freaking shocked - when he spoke up. It dawned on Steve then that Ms Byers and Chief Hopper didn't look surprised at all by the mention of magic or wizards… so they knew.

And Steve wasn't a wizard, he wasn't brilliant or powerful, but he could look at Jonathan's pale and sweating face and guess that he had no freaking idea.

"Yeah, of course, wizards took my brother and they sent a fake body and they're hiding him in the walls and HE CAN ONLY COMMUNICATE THROUGH A POLTERGEIST CONTROLLING CHRISTMAS LIGHTS?!"

Oooh, that was what the lights were for. Steve looked at them again, saw then how each light was hung above a different letter. That was kind of rad, like a magic keyboard to the other world or whatever.

"Jonathan, it's okay." Ms Byers had stopped crying, thankfully, and Steve could tell she believed Harry - wanted to believe him. "This is good, this means that Will is still alive."

"Mom!" Jonathan jumped up and Steve lunged toward him, made to grab his elbow when he swayed. Steve didn't get dizzy about magic and mutant powers being real, but Steve also didn't have a brother who was… trapped in a wall? Dead but not dead?

Steve didn't have a brother, anyway. And Jonathan had kind of been cool about Steve's embarrassing and drunken confession. Jonathan didn't say a word to anyone as far as Steve knew and he even drove him back to his place to sleep it off. If it had been Tommy or one of the guys off the basketball team who Steve went blurting out about being gay, they wouldn't have been cool about it.

So if Jonathan needed someone to grab his elbow so he didn't land on his ass, Steve could do it for him like he had for Steve.

"This is crazy," Jonathan said, stammering some. "They - magic and wizards and poltergeists? Those aren't real, Mom. They're not."

It was crazy, all of it. But Steve had seen magic, he'd seen Harry control the freaking weather. And when he looked at the twins again, at the calm on Harry's face and the confidence on Sirianna's, he didn't doubt for a second that what they said was the truth.

A crazy truth, super freaking crazy, but still true.

Steve would have backed them, said he believed them like Ms Byers and Chief Hopper clearly did, but Harry surprisingly spoke up again.

Or maybe it wasn't surprising. Maybe Steve didn't know him all that well and he was always calm in a crisis and went around with his power and brilliance and identified bodies or something.

"I'll show you," Harry said.

"Harry James —"

Sirianna didn't get to finish what sounded like a threat (Harry's middle name was James?) before Harry waved his hand toward the wall of the Byers' living room. Steve only had a second to hear a sort of exasperated sigh from Chief Hopper before a section of the wall exploded.

Dust filled the air and Jonathan wasn't the only one who yelped in shock. Jonathan tripped into Steve, Steve barely kept them both on their feet.

"What the fuck?!" Jonathan yelled. "My mom just fixed that!"

Oh, yeah. Steve had forgotten with the whole ‘dead body found in a gutter' thing, but there had been a tarp on that wall the last time he had been there. Jonathan said it was no big deal, an accident, but it made the house cold as hell.

"Doubtful," Sirianna sniffed, though Steve was more interested in watching Harry. Harry didn't so much as flinch at the explosion he must have caused, Harry was still pointing at the wall while he watched Jonathan.

With barely a flick of his wrist, the wall began to repair itself. The debris and dust flew in reverse to the wall and it knitted itself back together. Within seconds, it was like it never happened.

"See?" Harry said. "Real."

"Real," El said.

Jonathan's mouth opened and closed, no words seemed to come to him though. When Steve thought his knees were about to buckle, Steve kindly pushed him back to the couch to sit down.

"You've got to stop doing this," Sirianna whispered to Harry - kind of loudly - while Ms Byers sat beside her son and pulled him in a sideways hug. "Do you remember that they're all muggles? We can't tell everyone that magic's real."

Steve looked down quickly since Harry's immediate, and kind of innocent sounding considering he could blow up walls, reply seemed so genuine.

"Why?"

Steve wasn't the only one who grinned, Chief Hopper actually let out a quiet chuckle as he leaned himself in the doorway of the living room and continued watching everyone.

"Because, Har, it's illegal," Sirianna stressed.

Harry blinked, "I think kidnapping kids is too…"

"Well, we're better than them."

"Yeah, we didn't torture anyone."

Steve's smile slipped when they circled back to what they said before. Some wizards, Bad Wizards in White, had Will. And before they had Will, they had… Harry? And Sirianna? And they tortured them?

That… that was sick. That was horrible.

"So do you know where Will is?" Ms Byers asked Harry. It made Steve sad to hear her, to hear the raw and desperate hope in her voice. "Can we get him?"

It wasn't Harry or Sirianna who answered her that time, it was the girl, El.

"No," she said simply. "Project Dimension."

"Right." The Chief shoved himself off the wall and pinned El with his stern gaze. "I need to know more about that. What is Project Dimension?"

Steve wondered if he should even be there? Chief Hopper seemed to know more about what was going on than anyone, which, like, apparently Harry and both of his sisters were mutants too? Or wizards? Not mutants? Wizards in glasses and soft sweaters?

It would be weird to leave, Steve kind of needed to see what happened. And Harry was looking at him, looking at him while Steve looked away from him toward El.

While Harry didn't seem to like speaking, El seemed like she couldn't speak. Every word for her was a struggle; Harry had been clear and calm as soon as he had his sister by his side.

"Open… new… world…" El said slowly, her eyes locked on Harry the whole time she tried to explain. It sounded painful, it made Steve rub his own throat in sympathy.

"You opened a new world?" Sirianna still had her arm around Harry's shoulders, but her head was tilted curiously. She really was pretty; Steve wished she was the one he kept looking at. "With magic? That - how?"

"Project," El said. "Mon-ster."

Steve saw Harry's eyes flash and his voice was sharp.

"You are not a monster," he said. "You're not. What they did to you wasn't your fault."

"Not El." El pointed at the lights and everyone turned to look at them at the same time. "Will. Monster world."

It was kind of insane after that dramatic bit of information.

Steve wound up sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, while everyone else seemed to be planning a rescue. Steve was still trying to wrap his head around wizards (somehow mutants made more sense?) and kidnappings and monster worlds. Steve was also trying to not think about the twins being tortured, Will Byers being tortured, El being tortured, or why Harry's first reaction to ‘monster' was to tell El she wasn't one.

Steve did think about the kid, the one who died. The police found his (her?) body in a sewage drain and Harry said their appearance had been changed to look like Will. Was that permanent? Would they be buried with Will Byers' face and their family never know? Maybe there was another mom somewhere, looking for her kid like Ms Byers was hers, and she wouldn't ever know that her kid had died.

It was sad and Steve couldn't stop thinking about who the kid was or what would happen to them.

The room was getting seriously loud with the clashing voices - Ms Byers wanted to get Will then and there, Jonathan wanted to go with her. Sirianna was trying to coax information from El, El just kept saying ‘monsters'. Harry wasn't saying anything, he just stood in the middle of the room sort of looking like he didn't know how he got there.

Chief Hopper lost his patience around the same time that Steve started to wonder if life was ever going to be normal again or if it would be crazy shit for the rest of his life.

"Everyone needs to shut the fuck up for a second!" Chief Hopper yelled, instantly silencing everyone. "Look, we are not going to go rushing in there to get Will, that's a suicide plan, got it?"

"So you do know where he is!" Ms Byers stood up and even if she was like at least a foot shorter than the Chief, she managed to stare him down. "Tell me right now, Jim. Tell me where my fucking son is!"

"You are not going anywhere near that fucking place," Hopper snapped, somehow not intimidated at all like Steve totally was. Steve would have told her, instantly. "We are going to play this smart and we are going to bring Will back without anyone getting hurt. Am I completely fucking understood right now?"

Steve didn't know why he looked at him - Steve barely understood what was going on. Everything sounded like some huge comic book storyline with bad wizards, good wizards, and dead bodies that were used as distractions. Steve was just… some guy.

Some gay guy who looked at Harry again and saw that he nodded at Chief Hopper's order.

"What do we do about - about the not-Will?" Jonathan asked. He rallied quick, he wasn't so pale or shaken looking anymore. He was looking up at Chief Hopper from the sofa with a nearly calm expression. There was still something wild in his eyes, something that made Steve kinda wonder if he would have liked being an older brother or not.

"Fuck." Chief Hopper rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. "I don't know. I'll - I'll find a way to keep that body from being released, we're not burying a fake body under Will's name."

But then what?

"Wait, so you're just going to leave them? In a morgue? Forever?" Steve didn't plan on having any input in the conversation, he probably should have left when the Chief arrived, but they couldn't do that. They couldn't just let some kid rot away in a morgue.

That kid didn't ask to be changed, that kid didn't ask to be turned into someone they weren't. It wasn't their fault that - that some bad wizards changed them. They couldn't just rot away without anyone ever caring about them.

"What do you want me to do?" Chief Hopper asked. "Have a whole fake fucking funeral? Make Joyce bury a fake corpse?"

"But they are a real person!" Steve scrambled to stand up, he wasn't going to sit there while they acted like that person didn't matter. "It's not their fault! They didn't - they didn't ask to be someone different!"

"Nobody asked for any of this shit!" Chief Hopper said. "We are all doing exactly what we can and there isn't jack we can do for that kid anymore, got it?"

No, Steve didn't get it.

Steve stood there and didn't get it at all when Hopper told the twins and El to go to his car. He didn't get it when Ms Byers was crying in Jonathan's arms and Steve quietly let himself out.

They were going to leave that kid to rot in a morgue because they were suddenly different and didn't matter to anyone anymore.

It felt wrong and Steve spent pretty much the entire night laying in his bed, thinking about it.

Getting up for school felt like its own special form of hell after not sleeping all night.

Like the world was fucked up and full of evil wizards and good wizards and monster worlds and torture and Steve still had to worry about his history homework? What kind of crap was that?

Steve must have looked as bad as he felt because nobody at school even tried talking to him. Jonathan's car wasn't there, no surprises there, but Hargrove's was.

Considering their last conversation, if it could be called that, Steve was just waiting for Hargrove's boot to fall and kick Steve in the dirt. Hargrove didn't say a word though when Steve slouched past him, he seemed pretty distracted by Sirianna beside him.

Seemed like they were pretty official, if he was driving her to school and sharing cigarettes in the parking lot. Steve wasn't jealous, though he kicked himself for thinking that he probably would have been if it were the other twin under Hargrove's arm.

Harry was there, thankfully not under Hargrove's arm. He stood just on the other side of his sister and when Steve peeked - quickly - to see if Harry had on glasses again, Harry's eyes caught him.

Was Steve supposed to wave? Say nothing? Tell him he liked his glasses, he thought they made him look a little older, a little calmer?

Probably best to say nothing.

Harry didn't say anything and Steve didn't either, he walked past them as fast as he could while still trying to be casual.

Sirianna and Hargrove sounded like they were busy talking about the same thing Steve could hear everyone else discussing loudly. Sirianna had a hell of a lot more details though, Steve couldn't imagine why she thought it was a good idea to share them with Hargrove.

"— Hopper wants to go tomorrow so I thought maybe you could come over?"

"Come to your place while the Chief's gone? Hell yeah."

Steve kept his head ducked and hid his scoff at Hargrove's response. Of course all he'd care about was getting laid, or whatever. Hargrove probably didn't give a damn that there was a kid being tortured or that - that Sirianna herself had probably been tortured and Harry had been tortured and wizards could probably do a lot worse damage than normal people.

God, Steve should have stayed home. Or left Jonathan's when the Chief showed up. What was he supposed to do with all the thoughts that were screaming in his head?!

"Steve?" Nancy Wheeler stopped Steve in the hall, kind of a twist on how Steve used to go looking for her. Why couldn't she be the person Steve kept thinking about? Nancy was nice, sweet, smart. She was pretty too and Steve had liked kissing her. He did.

Except she wasn't the person Steve wanted to be with and it was awful. Not as awful as evil wizards torturing kids or being locked in a monster world, but still awful.

"Nance, hey." Steve tried to smile, something. Nancy still seemed like she wanted to be friends, which was something. Steve was starting to feel like he didn't really have a whole lot of friends anymore.

"Are you okay?" Nancy reached out to touch Steve's arm and her eyes were so worried. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of look like crap."

Yeah, how could Steve possibly take that the wrong way?

"I'm fine," Steve said. "Thanks."

"Okay…" Nancy didn't look convinced but the bell was ringing and they had separate classes to get to. "Jonathan said it was a rough night though, so if you wanted to talk to me… you can. I - we're friends, Steve, okay? No matter what."

No matter if Steve was a queer or not.

Good to know.

"Thanks." Steve started to walk away, he just didn't have the energy for some big heart to heart in the hallway. He paused after a few steps and turned back to find Nancy had been watching him walk away. "When did you talk to Jonathan?" he asked. Jonathan wasn't there, Steve doubted he'd be back until Will was home.

"He called me, last night. He said he didn't want to say much on the phone, but I'm going to his place after school to talk." Nancy tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and Steve pushed away the horrible urge to laugh. "Why?"

No reason, none at all.

Hargrove had Sirianna.

Jonathan had Nancy.

And it was Steve who was left behind with the feeling that maybe he never knew who he was to start with.

Steve made it to English a minute early and snagged a desk in the back. All he wanted to do was rest his head on his desk, close his eyes, ignore the gossip spreading through the school that Will Byers had been found dead.

It seemed like a pretty simple wish, to be left alone. It didn't sound like too much for a guy to ask of the world after the night Steve had.

Except Billy fucking Hargrove couldn't just leave him alone.

Their teacher started talking about the new section of Macbeth they were all supposed to have read the night before. Steve didn't read the section and kept his eyes closed, hoping he wouldn't be called on. It was working out okay, until Hargrove decided to be a massive dick at eight thirty in the freaking morning.

"What figure today could we compare Lady Macbeth, the Scottish Queen, to?"

Steve heard the question sort of vaguely, not in a way that he really even comprehended what was said or asked. Steve might not have even thought about the question at all if he didn't hear his name right after it.

"How about Queen Steve?"

Steve's head snapped up off his desk so quickly that he was dizzy for a second. For one second, Steve's head swam and he looked through the classroom until he found Hargrove smirking at him.

Did he… did he really just…

"Queen Steve." Tommy was sitting near Billy, Steve had never even noticed, and he laughed. Carol turned to look at Steve and then she laughed too.

It took half of a freaking second before the entire room was full of laughter and whispered comments that their teacher tried half-heartedly to kill.

Steve could feel his face burning and his pulse pounding in his ears as he glared at Hargrove with everything he had. Every joke felt like an actual slap to Steve's face. He went to school with all of them, for years, and Hargrove said one stupid thing and they were going to run with it?

Of course they were, they always did. How many times did Steve sit where Hargrove was and crack some stupid joke that turned into a months worth of rumors and gossip?

So it was like karma or something. The world said ‘hey, Steve, you're kind of a dick, so have fun being a fucking homo and listening to your friends laugh about it!'

It took everything Steve had to not walk out of that classroom, but he knew it would just make it all worse. When the teacher finally got enough students' attention, Steve laid his head back on the desk and flipped the hood of his jacket up to try and block everyone else out.

Nothing seemed to improve any through the rest of the morning. Every class there was someone with some stupid fucking joke to make.

Steve discovered that his name could apparently be rhymed with a variety of insults - Steve-o the Homo was something of a stretch though. It didn't matter that Hargrove wasn't in any more of Steve's morning classes, he made a dumb joke and the rest of Steve's classmates were more than happy to run with it in his absence.

There were a few people who didn't say anything, which was cool or whatever, but calling Steve a faggot had somehow managed to be the top gossip of the day even with Not-Will's body being found in the sewage drain.

Steve kept up his new routine of going straight to his next class and laying his head on his desk for fourth hour. They were supposed to start baking that day and Steve really hoped that Chrissy wouldn't be pissed if he stayed at his desk. Steve had been looking forward to it, to a project he was sure he'd get an A on without even cheating, but - but he was just over it.

Someone kicked the chair of his seat when they walked past him, probably Lisa from the sound of the giggle. Steve could hear someone else whispering about if Steve ‘sucks cock' when they walked in the room - though they at least shut up when they must have noticed him at his desk.

The chair beside his was pulled out just before the bell rang and Steve assumed it was Chrissy and he waited to hear what super brilliant and totally creative comment she would make.

"Steve?"

Steve clenched his eyes shut more tightly because it wasn't Chrissy, it was Harry. And either Harry was going to decide that he'd like some payback for anything stupid that Steve said when he started at Hawkins or he was about to make everything ten times worse.

"Are you okay?"

No, not really, thanks.

"I… I think you're right."

Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Why - why - would Harry choose the worst possible time to try and talk to him? Sure, when Steve wanted to talk to Harry, he got nothing. Suddenly, Harry got new glasses and soft sweaters and was some powerful and brilliant wizard and he wanted to talk to Steve.

If they weren't in a classroom full of people who had been making Steve's life miserable all morning, maybe Steve would have been excited. Maybe Steve would have wondered if kissing a boy was really the worst thing in the world when compared to torture and evil wizards and being trapped in a monster world.

"Please, go away," Steve whispered so quietly he didn't think Harry heard him, he didn't know if he wanted Harry to hear him. How much worse could things get, really?

"I don't think we should leave that person in a morgue," Harry said, clearly he didn't actually hear Steve. Or maybe he didn't care. Maybe Harry knew there were more important things than Steve being called a queer.

And Steve knew there were, he knew it. It was a joke, one that would go on longer if he didn't do something about it, like denying it for starters, but Steve wasn't dead. Steve wasn't kidnapped or - or tortured or trapped in a world of monsters.

"Hop isn't going to be home tomorrow, I thought - thought maybe you'd want to help me… bury them."

Steve's stomach twisted when he realized what Harry just said.

Bury them. The dead body. The body that would look like Will Byers.

Steve wanted to say no, he should say no. He picked his head up enough to see if Harry was serious, if it was all some massive prank to him, and then blinked at the calm certainty on Harry's face.

And then Steve was staring at him and noticing things he shouldn't, noticing that Harry's eyelashes were as dark as his hair, which made his eyes seem brighter. His hair seemed longer than it had been the first time Steve saw him, it sort of curled around his ear and was a little messy, like he didn't even brush it in the mornings.

His face was pretty. It was pretty and awful and Steve shouldn't have been looking at it. Harry didn't seem to care, Steve thought he was looking at his face too, but slowly, carefully.

Steve should have said no, then maybe announced that he wasn't gay and then beat the shit out of Hargrove for starting everything he did. Steve should stay fifty feet away from wizards and magic and boys who were prettier than any girl.

"Yeah." Steve heard himself speaking and couldn't stop the words that left his mouth. It was going to make things worse, he was sure of it. "Yeah, I do want to help."

It wasn't that person's fault they were changed, they didn't ask to be turned into someone else. They didn't deserve to rot away for it either. So it was going to make shit worse for Steve, but it also seemed like the right thing to do.

Chapter Text

"Oh my God, so!"

Chrissy had immediately pulled Sirianna outside from the gym during their seventh hour, telling their teacher that she wanted to practice their routines and work ups privately to ‘get Sirianna up to speed'. Sirianna planned on doing just that, and they were - kind of. But Chrissy apparently had days worth of information she wanted to share with her.

Sirianna kept going over and over the steps Chrissy showed her, occasionally twisting or turning when Chrissy fixed her position, while Chrissy talked.

"Here's the thing, I like totally had suspicions because - you were a smoke show when I did your makeup and Steve didn't even look at you? No, what? So I asked Jason if he thought you were hot, like maybe I'm biased because we're friends? Jason tried to say ‘oh, he didn't look' which is total bullshit. I told him I wouldn't be mad or anything because I thought you looked banging, and he finally said ‘yeah, Sirianna is hot'."

Sirianna brightened at that. Jason was tall, cute, so sweet with Chrissy. If he said that she was hot then it probably wasn't a lie.

Unless he said it to be nice to Chrissy who put all the work into Sirianna's makeover that day… Thankfully, Sirianna had to focus on not missing a step and listening to Chrissy so she really didn't have the ability to also wonder about pity compliments.

"Which, duh," Chrissy said. She clicked her tongue and stepped up beside Sirianna, turning her body the same angle Sirianna was, and showed her the move Sirianna thought she had been doing. "No, like this, see how my arms are bent at the elbow? Your left one was straight. So good though. Anyway, so I told Jason that Steve didn't even look twice at you, which is super strange but what was even more strange was that he was looking at Harry!"

"That's not strange," Sirianna said, working hard to not make that sound bitter. "Everyone pays attention to Harry."

Zero-Seven

Zero-Seven-B

"First off? You're so wrong." Chrissy nodded then and paused her gushing to walk Sirianna through the next part of the routine, only talking again once Sirianna was practicing the movements on her own.

"And secondly, I'm saying that Steve was looking at Harry like Billy looks at you. And now everyone is saying that Steve is gay."

Sirianna fumbled a step in her moment of concern. "What's that? Is he going to be okay?"

Was it their fault? Sirianna and Harry's? Did they expose him to too much magic? Sirianna had seen him in class and at lunch and he seemed okay, kind of sad, but Sirianna got the impression people were being unkind to him. Sirianna had thought about sitting with him at lunch, he just looked so pitiful by himself, but Billy had refused to move and she didn't want to cause a fight to break out between them.

"No, Siri," Chrissy laughed for a second at what had been real questions. "Gay? Like… like when two boys like each other? Or two girls like each other?"

That… there was a name for that? Did that make Sirianna and Chrissy gay? Or Harry and Jonathan? Sirianna thought it was being friends.

Chrissy sort of huffed and her cheeks turned pink when Sirianna's said just that, she even rolled her eyes though Sirianna didn't get the feeling that she was truly annoyed.

"No, like… I think Steve has a crush on Harry, he thinks he's attractive or whatever and wants to kiss him. Gay, like two people in a relationship that are the same gender."

Sirianna stopped moving so she could look at Chrissy to try and —

Oooh, gay. Sirianna did know what that was, Merlin. Aunt Petunia had been particularly nasty to a man dancing on the telly once and called him a ‘poof'. Sirianna remembered pausing her chores to ask what poof meant, she thought it was a magic reference and wanted to see if Uncle Vernon would put Aunt Petunia in the cupboard for it, but Uncle Vernon rather crudely told her it meant ‘being a faggot'.

Sirianna had forgotten that, but… but… she heard that word quite a bit, all day long. It hadn't been pointed toward her or Harry, so she didn't care at the time, but her stomach sort of did a backflip when it clicked together for her.

"They were talking about Steve, all day," Sirianna said. She swallowed hard and kicked the ground when Chrissy nodded with her own unhappy look. "That's horrible. Why would they do that? Steve's been so kind. You should have seen him last night, Chrissy, when he looked ready to cry over Jonathan's brother. It was - WAIT!"

Sirianna must have been particularly dim, or distracted by the many things happening in her life if she felt like being kind to herself about it, because it suddenly all fell in place what Chrissy had said.

"Steve likes Harry?" Sirianna asked, a smile slowly creeping up on her face. That was lovely, really. Steve had been an absolute shit hole before Benny died, but he seemed like such a good friend since that awful day.

That would be - would be brilliant, actually! Harry and Steve could go on dates and Sirianna and Billy could go on dates and maybe they could all go on big group dates when Billy and Steve stopped fighting so much! If Harry liked him, which maybe he did! Harry was the one who told Steve they'd ride in his car and go in his house and Steve was who Harry ran to when he found El!

Maybe Harry and Steve liked each other!!

"Yes!!" Chrissy squealed, smiling just as Sirianna was. "Which I told Jason and he said I'm crazy."

"Is that why people are being cruel to Steve?" Sirianna asked. "Because Jason told them that Steve is gay?"

Sirianna couldn't remember if she heard Jason making any nasty comments to Steve, but she really hadn't been paying that much attention. But if Jason was being cruel to Steve then Sirianna was going to tell Chrissy that she should find someone else to date. Steve and Harry would be so cute, she knew it the second she thought of it. Harry liked him, Sirianna was certain of it.

"Jason didn't tell anyone, he said he forgot I even told him," Chrissy rolled her eyes again. "Which, like, okay but that was just the other day, so what the hell? Tammy told Lisa, who told Carol, who told Kate, who told me at lunch that Billy was the one who started calling Steve ‘Queen Steve' and now everyone's calling him ‘queer Steve' and it's so rude, right?"

"That is so rude," Sirianna agreed. It was cruel, nasty. It was just like when the other students made horrible comments about Sirianna and Harry being inappropriately close to each other. Those still stung when Sirianna heard someone say it in the corridors or whispered in class.

They had cut down drastically after Sirianna punched Carol though. So - so maybe Steve should punch Billy. And if he didn't, Sirianna would. Honestly, what an awful thing to do… probably…

"Why is ‘Queen Steve' an insult, exactly?" Sirianna asked. Sirianna didn't think she understood the insults the other students used or their swears. She thought she had learned quite a few, but she couldn't think why it would be insulting to be compared to Queen Elizabeth.

The Queen was a beautiful woman, classy, graceful, intelligent, kind. Sirianna wished that she had been called Queen Sirianna when the students at Hawkins had been taunting her.

‘Queer Steve' was quite clearly an insult.

"I mean it's not like clever," Chrissy said, shrugging both of her shoulders up in some bemusement. "I guess because queens are women? So it's like a slang thing? Like a queen could be royalty or a gay guy?"

Sirianna was sure that Billy had probably not been comparing Steve to the Queen, which meant that he had insulted Steve and started the cruel comments and hurtful jokes.

"Oh." Sirianna couldn't describe the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was a cold swoop, a sick feeling. It was… she was —

"I know." Chrissy squeezed Sirianna's shoulder in a moment of solitude. "I was so disappointed too. I thought that maybe Billy wouldn't be such an ass with you two being official, you know? But Steve has been completely miserable today."

A very tiny, veryyyy tiny, part of Sirianna thought that Steve deserved to be a bit miserable. Steve hadn't been kind to Sirianna or Harry on their first day at Hawkins, he had been a part of the group of students who were especially nasty.

Except nobody deserved to be treated so awfully, especially over something that couldn't be helped. Sirianna didn't ask to have butterflies when she saw Billy and Sirianna liked the idea of Steve and Harry holding hands and doing sweet things together. Harry liked Steve, Sirianna loved her brother, which meant it was up to Sirianna again to make the idiots at Hawkins High shut their stupid mouths.

"I see," Sirianna said, stopping her routine to stare at the back of the school and to think. Punching Billy in the mouth didn't sound especially appealing, Billy was hurt enough in his life, but it had been effective for Carol… but Billy already had a bruise and cut on his face…

No, Sirianna wouldn't put her hands on him, she couldn't. Billy was an outrageous arse and Sirianna was horribly disappointed in him, but hitting Billy was never going to be an option.

"So I was thinking… maybe you could tell Billy to knock it off?" Chrissy suggested. "It could be sort of like a test, right? You tell him it's not okay to be so freaking mean to Steve and if he doesn't listen then you obviously deserve better."

"You're right." Sirianna dropped her pom-poms on the ground and straightened her shoulders up. "I'm going to tell him exactly that."

Sirianna began striding toward the school, for the door that would let her back in the gym. Billy wasn't in the same gym as her, but they were connected so he wouldn't be hard to find.

"Sirianna! Wait!" Chrissy hurried to catch up with her and tried to block Sirianna's path to the door. "You can't do it in front of everyone! Steve will be humiliated!!"

"He's already being humiliated," Sirianna pointed out, stepping around Chrissy. "Maybe he'd like someone to stand up for him."

"He won't! Then they'll just laugh about him needing a girl to fight his battles!"

Sirianna slowed her march with that argument. That - that might be embarrassing for him, Sirianna had heard boys giggle about her fighting Harry's battles for him at Hogwarts.

"Ugh. Why are boys the worst?" Sirianna cried, throwing herself on the ground since she couldn't go yelling at Billy in the middle of class. Sirianna didn't want to make anything worse, she just wanted Steve to not feel as horrible as she had felt.

"Because God used all the good stuff and brains on us?" Chrissy also threw herself on the ground and Sirianna almost grinned when Chrissy plopped her head on Sirianna's thigh. It was so nice, having a friend again. Harry was great, but Harry didn't want to talk about clothes or boys or anything really.

"You're so right," Sirianna said, silently amending Chrissy's words to include Harry. Harry was terrifyingly smart, he always had been. The way that he seemed to solve Will Byers' disappearance all on his own? Sirianna couldn't have done that.

Sirianna went quiet for a few minutes, thinking about the Billy problem to replace the White Coats problem. Why would he be so unkind to Steve? And it wasn't the first time either, they were constantly fighting.

It was time for those two to get along, honestly. Sirianna didn't want to stop… doing whatever it was that she was doing with Billy (were they dating?), but there were double dates with her brother on the line.

"Project Make the Boys be Friends…" Sirianna murmured, a ghost of a humorless smile flitting across her face. That especially wasn't funny, but also it was.

"That's going to be a big project," Chrissy said. "I think you'll need to blackmail Billy, really. I think he really likes you… So use it against him. It's like a carrot and stick, right? You're the tasty carrot, being single and alone is the stick."

Sirianna didn't think she understood what Chrissy meant with carrots and sticks, but she did know that people could be threatened into compliance. Sirianna had been - "Do it or we'll hurt your brother" - so she knew it worked.

Chrissy decided to help her and they made a quick plan while they got back to actual practice. Chrissy had a lot of good ideas, though they both kind of hesitated when Sirianna pointed out that if their plan went wrong, she and Harry wouldn't have a ride back to Chief Hopper's.

"You can ride with me," Chrissy decided. "Jason won't mind, I'm sure."

"Does he have a car?" Sirianna asked. She didn't think Jason was old enough to drive.

"It's his moms, but she lets him use it anytime he wants," Chrissy explained. "So she gets these migraines, right?"

They spent the rest of the time talking about Jason's family, then Chrissy talked more about her own - Sirianna liked how much Chrissy loved being an older sister, it was just another thing they had in common. Chrissy's brother was much younger, he was adorable when Sirianna met him on Sunday, but Chrissy talked about him with so much love and sweetness. It was truly brilliant, having someone to talk with about so many different things.

It also made Sirianna think of Ron. There weren't a lot of similarities between Chrissy and Ron aside from their red hair, but Sirianna thought about him all the same.

They went inside before class officially ended, so Chrissy could fix Sirianna up for ‘maximum effort'.

"Oooh," Chrissy peeked inside the red makeup bag that Sirianna bought to use and she started pulling out Sirianna's most cherished possessions. "CoverGirl? You did so good, this is like the best brand."

Sirianna bit her cheek and nodded shortly. It hadn't been her that purchased the makeup itself. It was Benny, Benny who had bought Sirianna her very own makeup set and put it in a gift bag for her. Sirianna couldn't think about it - couldn't imagine Benny in all of his massive size standing in a cosmetic store and picking out things he thought Sirianna might like - because she would cry. And she had already cried about it too many times.

Sirianna was sick of crying. It felt much better to be in action, to do something to fix anything.

Chrissy gave Sirianna a quick lesson on mascara and eyeliner after they hurried through quick showers. The other girls joined them when the bell rang, but there weren't any hateful comments sent toward Sirianna anymore. Actually, a couple of the girls were perfectly nice to her.

Which meant that surely Sirianna could fix things for Steve as well. Girls were more complicated, Sirianna had befriended Ron Weasley in one conversation and it took her a whole week to become Lavender Brown's friend.

Project Make the Boys be Friends would work, it had to.

It started with Jason, who Chrissy snatched from the corridor the instant he walked out of the locker room.

"Come stand outside with us and be nice to Steve," Chrissy ordered him. Jason opened his mouth and Sirianna thought he was going to argue, but Chrissy put her foot down.

"I mean it, Jason Michael! You said that Steve threw a fit for you to be on the varsity team, the least you can do is be freaking nice."

Jason huffed, but Sirianna could sense that he would do exactly what Chrissy told him to.

"I made varsity because I'm awesome," he bragged.

Chrissy smiled sweetly then and stood up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Jason's lips.

"I know you are," she said. "Now be even more awesome and not a total asshole, for me."

"Fine, whatever."

Oooh, carrot and stick. Sirianna understood.

Sirianna, Chrissy, and Jason waited in the parking lot for Harry, Steve, and Billy. Jason, quite dutiful really, told Chrissy that ‘the guys' had been ‘teasing' Steve during gym. Sirianna wanted to ask if anyone had been ‘teasing' Harry, but… but she was a bit afraid to ask.

Because if they didn't know, if they didn't realize what took Sirianna much too long to notice, then Sirianna would be the one pointing it out for them. And Harry had enough on his shoulders, Sirianna didn't want a fresh wave of hatefulness to be added.

The doors of the gym opened and Sirianna leaned against Jason's car while she searched for her brother. There were a lot of stupid grins on boys's faces, stupid grins considering that as far as they knew - a boy had been found dead the night before. Somehow, Steve maybe (hopefully) wanting to snog boys had become more important to everyone than the death of Jonathan's brother.

Sirianna really didn't care for most of her classmates.

Steve was the first one that Sirianna spotted, though her brother was only a step behind him. She had to go on her tiptoes to see, but - but Harry was talking. To Steve.

Why it took Sirianna so long to think that Harry liked Steve was beyond her, really. It was so obvious. She had been rather distracted with Benny's murder, El's arrival, Will's disappearance, and Billy though so maybe it wasn't entirely unforgivable.

Steve didn't seem like he was talking much, he looked really down, actually. It was sad, the curl of his shoulders and how his usually nice hair was laying across his forehead in wet clumps.

"Steve! Harry!" Chrissy waved at the boys and smiled brightly. "Over here!"

Harry had no issue changing his direction when he saw Sirianna standing with Chrissy, but Steve sent a glance toward Jason before Sirianna could see him mouthing something quietly to Harry. Steve didn't change direction and Chrissy actually stomped on Jason's foot with a pointed glare before he sighed and stopped Steve from leaving.

"Yo, Harrington." Jason calling out to Steve actually stopped quite a few students in their tracks. Sirianna scowled at their quick attention and the excitement they had. It was as if they wanted a fight to break out.

Steve took two hesitant steps toward Jason, his body tensed as he too seemed to think it was going to be a fight.

"Yeah?"

"Practice tomorrow, right?" Jason asked him.

Steve's eyebrows twitched in what looked like disbelief. "Tomorrow's Thursday, so yeah," he hedged. "Every Thursday and Friday."

"Will it bother your practice if I bring a boombox to our practice?" Chrissy asked, jumping in with her same sunny smile. "Sirianna has never even heard of Wham! and I just feel like the girls get more in the groove with music, you know?"

Harry stopped beside Steve and looked toward Sirianna with the tiniest little head tilt. Sirianna flicked her fingers at her side for him, she would tell him later. Maybe. The other students were already starting to walk away, resuming their conversations with only a few glances and grins over their shoulders at Steve.

"I don't care." Steve relaxed and hiked his bag up on his shoulder after he shrugged. "We probably won't hear it unless it's crazy loud."

"Great!" Chrissy beamed. "Thanks, Steve, you're like the best, you know."

Sirianna saw Billy when he appeared at the end of the line of students leaving the school. It was so hard to think of what an absolute arse he could be when Sirianna could also think of how sweet he was, and how horrible it had been yesterday when he had been bruised and broken and sobbing.

Sirianna hated Billy's father, but she didn't like a bully either.

Billy saw her and Sirianna saw him glance to her side, glance at who she was talking to. So, of course, Sirianna made it a point to throw herself in the conversation with Steve to - to prove a point, or something.

"Do you guys practice with music?" Sirianna asked. "I think it would be distracting, right? Chrissy swears it won't be though." They had never talked about it before, but Sirianna was sure that Chrissy would nod in agreement. "What do you think?"

"I mean… maybe?" Steve shrugged again. "They play music during our games sometimes, I don't think anyone gets too distracted?"

"Nah, remember when Tommy kept singing last year?" Jason laughed and Sirianna didn't think it was actually forced at all. "The entire student section at the game was booing him so much we were nearly kicked out of the gym."

Steve cracked a smile and it made Sirianna beam as hard as Chrissy was.

"That's because he's a terrible singer," Steve said. "One time he told me he gets better when he drinks, but I think he just gets like deaf and can't hear himself at all."

When Jason and Chrissy laughed, Sirianna did too. Their laughter must have been contagious because even Harry had a small grin just before Billy walked up. Billy went around Steve, dramatically - as if he wanted to prove his own point, and tried to slide up beside Sirianna. Steve stopped grinning the moment he saw Billy and Sirianna did as well.

It was hard, because Sirianna liked Billy so much, but he couldn't be an arse. It was - it was no better than Draco Malfoy, tormenting Harry because of his blood. Who cared if Steve liked boys (if he liked Harry, hopefully)? It didn't give Billy the right to be cruel.

"Hey," Billy said, casually nodding to Jason over top of Sirianna's head. He looked down at her and Sirianna felt a twinge of guilt when his eyes were so soft and so blue, still bruised too. "You ready?" he asked.

Sirianna told herself it was for the best, for the future of double dates and group dates and normal teenager things that she could include her brother on, before she made her voice go as cold as it could.

"Actually, I'm riding home with Steve," she said, mentally crossing her fingers that Steve would let her. Chrissy said Jason would drive her and Harry home if not, but it would be better if Steve would go with it.

Billy frowned, just for a second, before he carefully smoothed it away and leaned against the car parked beside Jason's with a smirk.

"Yeah?" he asked, an edge that hadn't been there before appearing in his tone. He glanced at the denim jacket laying behind Sirianna questioningly. "Since when does Queen Steve drive you home?"

"Since you called him Queen Steve," Sirianna snapped. She didn't look at Steve, she knew he was still standing by Harry and she really hoped she wasn't making things worse for him. Sirianna didn't want to fight with Billy, she didn't want people to see them arguing - because people were watching, nosy brats. "I don't want to ride with someone who - who's mean."

That was rather clear and Sirianna could practically feel her heart thumping in her throat. Billy could laugh, make a snide comment and walk away. Billy was handsome, sweet when he wanted to be, he wouldn't be ‘single and alone' for long. Sirianna didn't want him to walk away, she wanted him to drive her home and to share cigarettes and stories with her. It would probably make her cry if he walked off, but it would make her cry if she ever heard him call Harry ‘Queen Harry' too.

Billy stared at her silently, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to decide if she was serious or not, which she absolutely was.

"Harrington can handle himself," he finally said. His eyes flicked to where Sirianna knew Harry and Steve were still standing before settling back on her. He lowered his voice and Sirianna knew that he was wishing, like she was, that they didn't have an audience. "Is this really a big fuckin deal?"

Did it matter that much to Sirianna? Did it matter to her that someone she spent her time around wasn't a bully? It did. Sirianna hated bullies, she had probably ever since Dudley had turned into one and Sirianna saw how unhappy he could make Harry.

"It is." Sirianna crossed her arms, mirroring Billy's own stubborn stance back at him. "To me, it is," she corrected herself. "And if it's not to you, then, fine. I can ride home with Steve and you shouldn't bother coming over tomorrow."

Please, matter to him. Please, let Sirianna matter just enough that he would leave Steve alone.

Nobody else said anything while Sirianna and Billy stared each other down. If Billy thought Sirianna would cave, then he had no idea how truly stubborn she could be. Professor McGonagall told her that she got it from her mother, which meant it was stubbornness clear down to her DNA.

"Whatever." Billy sighed and ran a quick hand through his curls. His little smirk slipped back on his face, though it didn't reach his eyes - his eyes were… they were nervous, maybe? Like maybe he was a little worried that Sirianna would walk away?

Like maybe Sirianna mattered at least a little bit to him?

"If it's this big of a deal." Billy turned just enough to roll his eyes toward Steve. "I am very sorry that I hurt your feelings, Harrington."

It was probably the most sarcastic apology that Sirianna had ever heard in her life, but she didn't need Chrissy's nudge to notice that he said ‘Harrington' and not ‘Queen Steve'.

Project Make the Boys be Friends probably couldn't be accomplished in a day. As long as Billy wasn't tormenting Steve then it was a start.

"Thank you." Sirianna grabbed Billy's jacket from where she had pointedly laid it on the hood of the car and pulled it on. Billy hadn't asked for it back yet and Sirianna liked wearing it. "Bye, guys, I'll see you tomorrow," she told Chrissy and Jason, quite grateful for their help. Jason nodded and Chrissy grabbed Sirianna for a quick hug and quiet whisper -

"Now carrot," she breathed. "Go get him!"

Sirianna was not going to kiss Billy in front of her friend and her brother. She did let Billy put his arm over her shoulders when she grabbed her bag and told him that she would ride home with him after all. Billy mumbled something, something about ‘manipulative' under his breath; Sirianna didn't pay him any attention as she looked for Harry over her shoulder.

"Harry? Are you coming?" she asked. Steve wouldn't look at her and Sirianna hoped he wasn't upset. Sirianna wanted to fix things, not make it worse for him.

"Er… I'll be there soon," Harry said. "Steve said I could ride with him."

Sirianna blinked. She blinked again.

Then she smiled a true smile and nodded quickly.

"Sure, okay, I'll see you soon," she said. "Have fun!"

Project Double Dates was soo going to happen.

Chapter Text

"Harrington! Hey, Harrington! God damn," Billy lunged forward to grab Harrington's arm, "just fucking stop for one second."

Billy had fucking waited all day, all through classes and through practice. Billy waited for everyone else to leave and banked on Harrington fucking with his hair after practice. Then the dude took for fucking ever and Billy had shit to do.

Harrington spun around and Billy didn't blame him for the tight muscles and the click of his jaw when he set it. Any other time and Billy would be fine using Harrington as a way to scratch his itch for a fight. But Billy had a hot date and that hot date was not going to fucking happen if he started shit with Harrington.

Which was why Billy had waited all day to say what he planned on saying.

"What?" Harrington asked sharply when it took Billy a minute to gather himself. God, only fucking Sirianna could make him do some dumb shit…

"That shit with your locker? It wasn't me," Billy said. He had seen it, the marker across the locker, but it was stupid and childish - Billy would have called him a cock sucker to his face. Sirianna had glared at Billy as if he had already broken his word when she saw it.

Billy did not break his fucking word, it was all he had most days. If Billy gave his word, he kept it. It was why he never gave it.

Until Sirianna pulled some wicked witch bullshit and manipulated him into giving it. If she wasn't so fucking gorgeous when she was riled up, Billy might not have. He almost didn't, he told her he wouldn't change and he meant it, but to walk away from her? Nah. That'd be choosing picking on Harrington over Sirianna and Billy might be a dumbass, but he wasn't stupid.

Harrington didn't make it easy when he yanked his arm out of Billy's grip and scoffed at him.

"Siri isn't here for you to impress," he said - sneered it, really. Billy's calm mask he worked so hard on wearing twitched in irritation.

"Don't call her that," Billy said, the only warning he'd give. Billy wouldn't say shit about Harrington daydreaming about dudes, whatever, but Sirianna didn't like people who weren't her brother to call her Siri. So Billy could and would chip a fucking tooth over that without breaking his word.

"Whatever. Just leave me alone, alright? I don't like you, you don't like me, we can go our separate ways," Harrington said, taking the speech right out of Billy's mouth.

"Works for me, amigo," Billy said, mocking Harrington some. Harrington was failing Spanish hard, he was complete crap at it. Billy wasn't bad, he heard it enough back home that it was one of his easier classes.

Harrington huffed quietly, acknowledging the insult Billy didn't even have to say, and Billy grinned. And, with his word kept and something of a truce called, Billy pulled a cigarette from his pocket and sauntered outside to wait on his girl to get done with her own practice.

Billy really hoped she practiced in the tight white little outfits the cheer team wore at pep rallies. God, that would make his whole fucking day.

Course, if he could see her in even less… but Billy wasn't stupid. Sirianna wasn't going to be like any one of the many skanks at Hawkins. She wasn't going to fall down with her legs wide open.

It didn't hurt anything to think about that being a real possibility for his night though.

Billy's practice had ended right at five, the cheer team didn't end up leaving until damn near six. That didn't give Billy a lot of time, he'd have to pick Max up and have them both home by eight. Depending on Neil's mood, Billy might be able to leave again after dinner.

If Neil was in a shitty mood, he might drink enough that he would never hear Billy climb out his window. If Neil was in a fucking great mood - a rarity, but not unheard of - he would give Billy permission to go out.

It was fucking annoying, planning his night around his dad, but Billy had enough practice at it. And it was worth it anyway, especially when Sirianna finally walked out of the school and Billy got to see a whole lot of leg.

Not a whole lot, she was short as fuck, but with her shorts on and her shirt tied up at the waist, it was a lot more skin than he had seen before. Billy whistled at her, made sure it was real loud so she saw him. There was a thing she did, when she saw Billy, where it was like she lit up and became ten times brighter.

It was cute, made Billy crazy. Like she was so excited to see him. Even with her knowing more of his bullshit than he wanted her to, she still got all excited to see him. Well, she had been, but when she got closer and Billy got a good look at her face - all the makeup washed off from a shower and her hair laying down her back - she didn't have that spark in her eyes.

"I didn't do it," Billy said right off the bat. "I told Harrington I didn't do it."

"Do what? Oh, his locker?" Sirianna flipped her hair back, God, it was fucking long. "I know. I assume if you were going to call him a hateful name, you would have said it out loud."

It was nice sometimes, having someone around who knew Billy well enough to know what was and wasn't his style.

Billy half-heartedly reached a hand out to Sirianna, to see if she'd take it or not, and she did so he pulled her up close against his chest.

"What's got you in a mood then?" he asked. He didn't care if there were chicks giggling when they walked past, Billy still tilted his head down and kissed the side of her neck. She smelled fucking amazing and Billy liked the really quiet sound she made when he kissed her.

"Nothing," she said, giggling when Billy must have found a spot she was ticklish at. "It's silly. Harry's waiting though, he can't leave until I'm back so El isn't alone."

Billy pulled away slowly, trying to make that make sense.

El. The magic not-sister with the shaved head. The one that lived with Sirianna. Who Sirianna was apparently supposed to babysit when Billy had a lot of different plans for the night.

"How old is El?" Billy asked.

"No idea."

Right, yeah, okay.

"You think she likes video games?" Billy asked. He kissed Sirianna impulsively when she gave him a look of ‘if I don't know her age, what do you think?'

"Guess we'll find out," Billy said. "Hop in, kitten. Let's get you the night off."

Because Max owed Billy, fifty freaking times over. How many times did Billy get his ass kicked because she wanted five more minutes with her group of geeks? Billy drove her ass around the entire town every day, the least she could do was babysit a brat for two hours.

Billy waited outside while Sirianna went to coax the kid into a couple of hours at the arcade. It was only a minute after Sirianna went inside that Harry walked outside and looked around. Billy raised an eyebrow at the black jeans, black sweater combo he was rocking.

"All you're missing is a ski mask," Billy called to him, a joke that clearly didn't land.

"Oh. Hello." Harry walked down the porch stairs and there was something different about him, something Billy couldn't put his finger on at first.

Then Harry got closer and Billy realized what it was.

"Jesus, are you trying to fucking smile?" Billy asked. It looked fucking painful, like a grimace twisted up into something almost morbid.

"Is it not working?" Harry asked, speaking with his mouth still all fucked up.

"No." Billy didn't laugh, because it was Sirianna's weird ass brother. He did take a deep breath before smiling, showing Harry what a normal smile looked like. Harry squinted his eyes at him and Billy held the smile while Harry slowly fixed his fucking face.

"Like this?" Harry was smiling, almost normally, and it almost looked like Sirianna's smile. Except hers was blinding and Harry's still looked sort of painful.

"Yeah, champ, you got it," Billy said. He leaned back on the Camaro and looked Harry over slowly while Harry kept dropping the smile then trying it again and again.

"You've got a date," Billy said the second it clicked. He didn't even wonder what baby bird would be up to when Sirianna said he was leaving, but maybe Harry thought all black was date attire or something. He was definitely going on a date.

With who?!

"Er… no. No, I don't," Harry said, but he was stuttering and his face was red as fuck. "It's not - that."

"Oh, it totally is." Billy chuckled and got comfortable, he could help Harry out until Sirianna got the kid ready to go. "Alright, where you going?"

"Er…"

"Don't know?" Billy guessed. Yeah, Harry wasn't the kind of person to plan something. "Chick or dude? Dude," he nodded to himself. Harry could stick ‘Gay' on his forehead and it still wouldn't be as obvious as it was. "Don't let him take you to the quarry unless you're trying to get smashed in more ways than one."

"Smashed?" Harry frowned and Billy decided he needed a cigarette to explain the concept to him.

"You know…" Billy lit up and waved his cigarette, trying to find a way to break the news. "Get your rocks off? Get laid?"

Harry fucking blinked at him.

"Just stay away from the fucking quarry," Billy told him. "No backseats, nobody's house, stay sober." The kid was innocent as all get out, whoever the fuck he was going out with better not try any shit with him. Harry was like a kid, a weird fucking little gay kid.

Jesus, it was fucking weird to think anyone would even want to date him. Which… actually… maybe they saw the same oblivious innocence that was blinking in Billy's face and thought it would be an easy lay.

"Hey," Billy pointed at Harry, serious as fuck, "if they try any shit at all, if they're not the most fucking respectful person, get your ass out of there. Got it? If you can get to a phone, call here and I'll give you a ride back or whatever."

"Er… got it?" Harry said. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. If he got back and Billy was still there, Billy could get the details. Some sick fuck wasn't going to take advantage of Sirianna's beloved fucking brother on Billy's watch.

Not only would that piss her off, but it would probably piss him off too.

"And go change your shirt," Billy told him. He tried to remember the flashes of clothes that Sirianna had tried to show him when they left the mall on Monday. "You got one of those sweaters in green? Like a dark green? You can't wear black on black, it clashes. It's fine if it's got black print, but it can't be solid black."

Common fucking sense, man.

Harry still looked like he was testing his new smile the entire way in the house and Billy shook his head once he was gone. Jesus Christ, man. The kid wasn't even his brother and it was pissing him off to think about some perv trying to get their rocks off with him.

Thank God that Max was too young for shit like that. It was bad enough she only seemed to hang out with the same group of boys, maybe it would be good to toss another girl in the mix, keep Max from getting any bright ideas while she was still a kid.

Billy looked up when the front door opened and nodded when Harry started to walk out in a new sweater. It was a green one with black lines on it, a hell of a lot better than what he had on. Harry stopped on the porch and turned to look down the road, drawing Billy's eyes in that direction too.

Good, he'd like to — son of a bitch.

It was fucking Harrington. Fucking Harrington was driving his ugly ass BMW down the street and - God damnit. Billy gave his fucking word, but there was Harrington, parking on the street across from the house, disrespectful as fuck. Yeah, Billy was in the driveway, but there was room for another car too. Harrington was being a pussy and Billy called out to Harry when he started to head right for his car.

"Hey! You tell him next time he can pull in the driveway like a God damned man," Billy told him. "And I mean what I said, he pulls any shit at all and you fucking get me."

Because Billy gave his word and his word was good. But if Harrington fucked with Harry, there was zero chance that Sirianna didn't okay Billy kicking his ass.

"Right," Harry said. He turned his back to the car and flashed a smile, almost normal, at Billy. Billy shot him a thumbs up and almost regretted giving the kid any advice. Billy certainly wasn't trying to pave the way for fucking Harrington.

Billy made it a point to stare Harrington down after Harry got in the passenger seat and they pulled away. Billy almost flipped him off, but thought Harry might not realize that it wasn't aimed at him.

The second the car turned at the end of the block, the front door opened again and Sirianna bounced out of it with the kid behind her. Sirianna was fucking sparkling she was smiling so brightly. Now that was a smile.

Sirianna bounced right to Billy and he certainly wasn't complaining when she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down to kiss. It was enthusiastic, Billy absolutely pulled her close and tried to add some finesse to her enthusiasm.

The thing was, Sirianna wasn't a technically ‘good' kisser. She was quick, eager, needed some guidance. But Billy couldn't count on five hands how many people he had kissed before - and hers had something special about them. Which was sappy as fuck and he wouldn't say it even under torture, but maybe it was because Billy knew she hadn't been around the block much, if at all, and clearly wanted to with him.

Just him. Even after getting to know him a little too well.

"You're amazing," Sirianna said, pulling away too soon and looking up at Billy like he hung the fucking sun.

"Yeah, I am," Billy grinned even if he was a little confused. "Tell me what I'm doing right so I can do it again."

Sirianna pointed at the house and Billy wasn't sure what she was pointing at until she spelled it out for him.

"I was listening to you and Harry, it was very sweet in a sort of terrifyingly threatening way."

God damn it. Billy didn't realize the window was fucking open the whole time. He wondered if he was supposed to apologize or something? She said ‘sweet in a terrifyingly threatening way'? That didn't sound great, but she was still directing the not-sister into the backseat of the Camaro after Billy absently opened the passenger door for them.

"Am I supposed to say sorry or something?" Billy asked. He stopped on his side of the car and raised a brow at Sirianna across the top.

"Say sorry?" Sirianna's smile that had been so sunny and pretty turned into her own little smirk of amusement. "I didn't say terrifyingly threatening was a bad thing, Billy."

In reverse of Sirianna, Billy's smirk slipped into a smile and he had to shake his head again before he got in his car. She was something else.

The arcade wasn't exactly booming when Billy pulled in the lot and he wasn't surprised to see Max outside with most of her geek squad. There was Curly, the black kid, and - Wheeler's little brother was the only one missing.

It wasn't a shock or anything, the Byers kid had seemed closest to Wheeler when Billy had seen them before Byers bit it.

Or maybe he didn't, according to Sirianna who said she would ‘catch Billy up' when they had time to talk.

Either way, Billy might understand Wheeler not wanting to play games with his buddy possibly laying in a casket somewhere.

"Billy?" Max started toward Billy then stopped when she saw Sirianna climbing out of the car to let El out. "Do I - is it time to go home? I thought we had until eight?"

"You do. You and El have until eight." Billy pointed at El, planned to introduce her to the geek squad, but Max's eyebrows flew up on her forehead as soon as she saw her.

"El? You're alive?" Max rushed to the girl and threw her arms around her, acting like they were long lost buddies when Billy knew for a fucking fact that Max had never hung out with her before. Billy knew all of Max's friends, made it a habit to. Weird magic girl with no words and a shaved head? Wasn't one of them.

Billy could ask Max about it later though, he had other places he would rather be.

"Seven forty-five, Max," Billy told her, changing the time just enough so he could drop El back with Sirianna before hauling ass home.

"But you just said eight!" Max cried.

"And now I'm saying seven forty-five," Billy snapped. "Don't be late. And don't lose El."

"El, you're okay here for a while?" Sirianna asked, hovering by the passenger door.

"Good," El said in her weird monotone voice. It creeped Billy out, honestly.

"Great!" Billy patted the top of his car and flashed Sirianna a grin. "Let's go!"

Sirianna was hesitating, Billy could see it.

"Hey, Max and her geeks hang out here all the time," Billy told her. "She'll be fine. Hell, shouldn't she be hanging out with kids her age? It'll be good for her."

"Yeah, okay." Sirianna finally returned Billy's grin and he clocked the nerves in it, the slight edge it gained. "Let's go."

Billy shook it off, figured Sirianna had gotten attached to the not-sister the same way she did her brother and had a hard time letting either of them out of her sight. She could relax for a couple of hours, see that nothing horrible happened - God help anyone who fucked with that plan - and it would be fine.

Sirianna seemed to loosen up as soon as Billy kicked the radio on and they took the long way back to her place. Billy looked over at her, watched her laugh while she tried to keep her hair from flying around, and… fuck.

It was her laughter and the radio and the stupid amount of effort Billy put into trying to spend the evening with her. It made him feel dumb, in a good way. Just sixteen and cruising with his girl in the car, Judas Priest on the radio, blue skies in front of them.

Billy wasn't in any big rush, he knew Sirianna wanted to tell him about something that happened Tuesday night at Byers' place, but they had time to kill. They wound up finding some backroads to fly down and Sirianna wasn't a bitch, she nearly had her head out the window to feel the wind as Billy drove as fast as he could without hurting the Camaro or Sirianna.

"I used to play quidditch!" Sirianna yelled to him when Billy eventually turned the car back toward the town.

"Yeah?" Billy laughed because it was just a day where he kind of felt like laughing. "The fuck is that?"

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

If Billy thought Sirianna lit up when she saw him, it wasn't anything compared to how excited she got to talk about ‘quidditch' which was like soccer played in the air. On broomsticks. Which witches ‘and wizards' apparently really rode.

Sirianna clearly missed it though, like Billy did surfing. It made Billy think of a trip they could take to Cali - nothing but the sun and the waves, Billy in the ocean and Sirianna in the skies.

"Why don't you go back?" Billy pulled his car in the driveway at Sirianna's place and asked her what he had been thinking since she mentioned the school she used to live at. She sounded like she liked it, Billy couldn't imagine why she would choose to stay in Hawkins if she could get back to a place where she had been happy.

"I think… it wouldn't be safe." Sirianna twisted her fingers up in her lap with a small shrug. "We were taken, by wizards, and even if nobody at Hogwarts knew about it, what's to stop the White Coats from finding us there?"

Billy leaned his seat back, made himself comfortable, then looked over at Sirianna with a deadpan expression.

"Who took you from where and who the fuck are white coats?" he asked. He knew about magic, and he knew about quidditch, and he knew Sirianna was from England - and somehow that was it. Sirianna knew more about Billy than anyone else in Hawkins, and he realized that he barely knew shit about her.

"It's… something of a long story," she said.

Billy flipped the car on so the radio was lit up with the time and he could turn the music down to just play in the background. It wasn't like he had actually planned on getting laid, and there was always later to see how far she was ready to go.

"We've got time." Billy pulled his pack of cigarettes out and lit one for her before taking one for himself. He bent one arm beneath his head and stared up at the car ceiling while he waited. Billy could be patient, when he had to be.

It didn't take long, Sirianna was the most talkative fucking person he knew.

"So… so I guess it started when we finished our first year at Hogwarts, the school for magic…"

Billy should have guessed it, but it wasn't exactly a great story. A batshit insane one, sure, but not great.

Sirianna burned through their time while she told him about being fucking kidnapped, held hostage by some magical branch of government in a cell where she was tortured. She didn't say ‘tortured' but Billy could read between the lines on his own.

"We were supposed to die, both of us… and instead…" Sirianna shook her head as she stared out the windshield. "We escaped. Harry got us out of there, then I think I apparated us - that's where you sort of travel from place to place - to New York? We caught a bus and Harry said he had a good feeling about Hawkins, so we came here."

Billy snorted quietly about anyone having a ‘good feeling' about Hawkins. That was the only funny part of the whole damn story though. The rest of it had Billy's heart pounding in his chest while he thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

What kind of sick shit was that? Fucking kidnap and government authorized experiments on kids? They didn't commit a fucking crime, they were playing God damned hopscotch, they had no reason to be locked in a cell for years.

"And now they have Will." Sirianna sighed and Billy could tell she hated it - hated that some kid was in the shoes she just escaped from. "But… that's it. That's the whole story, really."

"Some story," Billy said. He checked the time, it was nearly a quarter til.

"Are you… okay?"

Billy looked over at Sirianna and saw that she was completely serious. She was looking at Billy like he was the one who just talked about being forced in a cell and experimented on for kicks. Like Billy was the one who was supposed to fucking die at fifteen.

She was looking at Billy like he was going to tell her to get out, that her shit was too much, he didn't care, fuck off. Billy knew that look, he owned that fucking look.

"Me? I'm good." Billy turned the car all the way on, figured it was about time to go get the brats. The second he was on the road in drive, he reached over and took Sirianna's hand in his.

Sirianna wasn't in a cell anymore, she wasn't being fucking tortured. Her shit wasn't too much, it wasn't going to scare Billy away. So, yeah, he was good.

"I think I've sort of ruined our… um…" Sirianna trailed off and Billy couldn't help but to grin.

"Date," he told her. He winked at her, liked it when she blushed. "It was a date. Not a great one, but we've got time to improve, babe."

Billy could see it, scarily enough. Billy could see earning some cash, picking Sirianna up in his car. She wouldn't want to do something boring like every other loser in town, she'd want to go cruising together, singing along to the radio. Sirianna couldn't sing for shit, but Billy wasn't exactly James Hetfield himself. Maybe he'd toss some food and drinks in the Camaro, a blanket too, and they could find a place to just lay on the ground and watch the stars.

It was pathetic too because Billy couldn't even see himself getting laid, but he knew he'd have a good time anyway.

Sirianna's thumb tapped on Billy's hand while he easily drove through town, trying to not think too much about little Sirianna and Harry locked up like dogs. It wasn't until Billy was about to pull in the arcade that he remembered the night didn't have to be over already.

"Hey, I might be able to come back over after dinner," Billy said, casually, like it didn't matter if Sirianna didn't want him back around. "When's the Chief get home?"

"Um… I'm not sure, late, probably?" Sirianna kept tapping her thumb even when she gave him a fake smile. "You should come back over, if you can. If you won't get in trouble."

Billy tried to figure out what had her worked up under the fake ass smile. If she didn't want to hang out, she could say so.

"I don't have to," he said. "I just thought you might not want to sit in your house all alone while baby bird's off on his own date."

Sirianna said sure, but Billy couldn't figure out why it almost sounded like a no. Did she think Billy was going to pity her? Start handing her tissues for her sad as fuck story? Maybe she just thought she didn't want to see him anymore, like Billy had when she saw him fucking crying. Well, too bad. Sirianna wouldn't scram when he told her to, Billy wasn't interested in scramming either.

The girls were shockingly waiting outside when Billy pulled up. He opened his door so Sirianna didn't have to get out and Max was talking her head off to El the whole drive back to Sirianna's place.

"So next time I'll totally teach you to play Frogger. Ignore what Dustin says, it's totally a kick ass game. Oh! And I'll bring some magazines? They're dumb, but you'll like some of the pictures in one of them. I guess I'll see if Mike will come too, he's bummed about Will, but he'll be happy to know he's not really dead."

"Not dead?" Billy looked at Sirianna since Max wasn't exactly being quiet. The school had made a whole announcement the day before, talked about a vigil to be held while they waited for services. Byers wasn't at school the last two days, Billy figured the kid was dead. Sirianna said he was taken, Billy assumed he was dead.

"Not dead," Sirianna said. She turned in her seat to stare at her not-sister hard. "But maybe we should keep that to ourselves for now, El."

"So you didn't tell Billy?" Max asked her, taking the wrong fucking tone in Billy's opinion.

"I trust Billy," Sirianna said - like it was nothing at all. She trusted him, so what? That was the way she said it.

"Trust Max," El said.

Billy didn't think about it, but there were four chicks in his car and he was so not listening to a cat fight over who got to know what secrets.

"What if anyone sitting in the backseat," Billy looked up at the rearview mirror so Max knew exactly who he was speaking to, "shuts the fuck up?"

It worked just fine. Max crossed her arms with a little huffy sound and Sirianna still had her hand in Billy's. It was El who had one more whispered comment to make —

"Shuts the fuck up," she whispered, almost quiet enough for Billy to not hear.

"Oh, good." Sirianna thumped her head back on the headrest of her seat. "Chief Hopper's going to love that."

Wellll, Billy never expected to be a big hit with the Chief of Police.

Billy walked Sirianna up to her door, taking a second to get away from Max, who crawled up in the passenger seat the second Sirianna got out of the car.

"If I can't make it back tonight, I'll still pick you up in the morning," Billy told her. "And if the Chief's car is in the drive, it might not be a great idea for me to stop back by."

The point was, Billy would be back. If not after dinner, then in the morning for sure.

"Be careful," Sirianna said. She leaned up and Billy put his hand on the side of her face- she was so soft for someone who had been through hell. She didn't feel fragile, just… soft.

"Sure thing, kitten." Billy kissed her slow, took as much time as he dared with it. That returned some of the sparkle to her eyes, told him that she didn't want him to fuck off forever.

So she unloaded her shit on him, Billy did some of his on her. She was kind of screwed up, Billy was kind of screwed up. Maybe it wasn't witchcraft or whatever, maybe it was just something good. Good for them both.

"You're smiling," Max said. She had been fucking gawking at Billy since the second he got back in the Camaro.

"No, I'm not," Billy said, fixing his face so he didn't look like an idiot. "Shut it, Max."

"You like her, you actually really like her!" Max laughed, all giggly like little girls did. "You have a real girlfriend! El said she's awesome, well, she didn't say that, but you could tell that's what she meant. So that's good! Plus you can just tell she likes you too, which - ew - but okay."

"Maxiiiiine, I'm going to break your fucking wrist if you don't shut up," Billy sang threateningly, trying to not fucking smile. Course even Max could tell Sirianna liked him, it was obvious. She liked Billy.

It was crazy, but it wasn't the craziest shit Billy heard that day.

"Oh! You know what you should do?" Max clearly wasn't going to shut up and Billy sighed loudly so she knew she was annoying him. "Take her flowers. She seems like she's the kind of girl to like flowers. Maybe roses? Those are like romantic, right? Here! I've got a bunch of quarters leftover that Mom gave me, you can have them!"

Billy looked over and watched Max empty her hoodie pocket of probably twenty quarters into the cup holder of his car. That was probably her entire arcade allowance for the rest of the month. The arcade was Max's favorite place to go, always had been even back in Cali. Her mom, Susan, gave her a few rolls of quarters on the first of the month and Max rationed them out like a nerd to make sure they lasted all month.

"You can't play your games without quarters, they don't run off charity," Billy told her.

"Yeah, well… I know your dad took your cash, so you can use these to buy your giiiirlfriend flowers." Max waved her hand, like it didn't matter at all. "I don't mind watching my friends play, they could use some pointers anyway."

God damn it. Billy hated the fucking corner Neil had him backed into. Yeah, it would be cool to take Sirianna flowers, something he could add a line to to make her smile, but the only place Max was allowed to really go was the arcade, and there wasn't any fun in standing around watching other kids play games.

"Keep your quarters, shitbird," Billy said without any real heat. He was just tired, tired of being in a corner with only a twelve year old kid to ask him if he was okay, did he need money, or to act excited for him to have a girlfriend.

"If I want to get her flowers, I can find some field and pick some," Billy told Max when she insisted he took them. "I'll wait, figure out what her favorite color is or something."

"Oh, it's red," Max said with more confidence than she should have.

"How the fuck do you figure that?"

"Um… she had a new backpack? And shoes? And they were both red? Girls do that, buy stuff in their favorite color?"

Billy looked over at Max, glanced down at her blue sneakers and thought of her blue backpack. Max's room was blue too, so was the underside of her skateboard.

"Huh." Maybe she was onto something there. Billy didn't pay attention to stuff like that, but he had a habit of buying light blue stuff, so it made sense. "Alright, so she likes red."

Sirianna liked red, and Max and Billy had sort of the same favorite color. Not that any of it mattered, Billy just never considered it before.

They made it back home two minutes before eight and Billy was shocked to find that Neil seemed to be in a good mood. Susan was all happy about it, smiling and laughing while she served pot roast to everyone. Billy waited until he was sure he wouldn't get his ass chewed and quietly cleared his throat.

"Dad, I wanted to ask if I could go out tonight," he asked, all polite and respectful. He even tacked on, "Please."

"A date or party?" Neil asked.

"Date, sir."

"Girl at your school?"

"Yes, sir."

"What's her name?"

Damn, Billy really hoped that wasn't going to be a question. It didn't matter, probably, but Billy felt sick talking about Sirianna with Neil.

"Susan Hopper, it's Police Chief Hopper's niece that he adopted."

Billy looked away from his dad to where Max sat across the table from him and lied with a perfectly straight face.

"Susan! That's a wonderful name!" Susan said, smiling stupidly while Max calmly met Billy's gaze. "Like father, like son, I suppose."

Great, Billy was going to actually be sick. Max lied to Neil and if he found out, Billy was in for it and Susan - Susan was a brainless idiot.

Neil bought into it though, he actually laughed with Susan about Billy dating a chick named Susan. Maybe, if Susan didn't crack a joke about it, Billy could swear that Neil misheard Max if it came up later. As it was, he was fucked.

"You'll be home no later than midnight?" Neil asked him. "You still have to drive yourself and your sister to school tomorrow."

"Yes, sir, I will," Billy swore. Like he'd risk being late to school with Max.

"And you'll need to be quiet when you get back, don't wake everyone up and make me regret this, William."

"Yes, sir." Again, like he dared.

"Alright then, sounds fine to me. No reason a young man shouldn't be out with proper young ladies, hm?" Neil nodded and settled in to finish his meal while Billy made it look like he still had any appetite left at all.

"That's the problem with most of these parents these days, they can't trust their children because they didn't raise them right…"

The hardest part was Billy keeping his mouth shut while Neil went on one of his tangents about everything wrong with the world. In his opinion, it was shitty parents who didn't teach respect, then the blacks, then queers. They were ruining America, ruining the world.

Billy was more concerned about piece of shit kidnapping wizards, but he wasn't going to share that with dear old dad.

Billy raced through washing the dishes that Max brought him from the table as soon as everyone finished eating. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could get out of there.

"Nice going in there, Max," Billy muttered when Max started rinsing the dishes for him. "What am I supposed to do when Susan Hopper doesn't exist?"

"Uh… tell him… fuck," Max whispered the swear and Billy prayed Neil didn't hear. "I didn't think about that, Billy. I'm sorry. I just… I hate him and she makes you happy, I didn't want him to ruin it."

Billy splashed her, just enough so she knew he was still irritated. It wasn't really Max's fault, not her problem to tiptoe around Neil and his shit.

"Whatever, forget it," Billy said. It was his problem, not hers. "Just keep your mouth shut about her, okay?"

"Okay." Max finished rinsing the dishes and rocked on her feet while she pulled on a lock of her hair. "Can I - can I use your radio while you're gone? I'll be really careful with it, I swear."

Billy wiped down the sink and tossed the rag in the dirty hamper by the laundry room. Everything was done, he looked great, he had hours before he had to be back.

"Yeah, you can," Billy told Max. He pointed at her, made sure she knew he was serious, "Don't break it, Maxine, or I'll find a woodchipper for your skateboard."

"I won't! Thank you!" Max leaned forward in a moment of stupidity and hugged Billy. He didn't shove her away, she was too quick for it. "Have fun!" she cried, running straight for his room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Shit head.

Billy was still shaking his head about Max taking off to use his radio when he climbed in the car and saw that she must have moved her stack of quarters from the cup holder to his seat sometime after dinner. It was crappy, using her arcade money to buy Sirianna flowers, but… clearly she fucking wanted him to.

It wasn't like Billy couldn't pay her back once he got going on some odd jobs around town though. Maybe he'd even add interest and see about getting her some new wheels for her skateboard, they hadn't been replaced in a while.

Fine, whatever. If she was going to insist then Billy would just remember he owed her one.

Billy stopped by a stupid little flower shop downtown and charmed the old lady behind the counter into giving him a bouquet of mixed flowers for four dollars and fifty cents, she even wrapped it with a red ribbon for him. It wasn't a dozen roses or anything sappy, but Billy still felt like a sap when he pulled back up at Sirianna's place.

The Chief wasn't there so Billy gave himself a quick spritz of his cologne before he walked up to the door and knocked. It only took a second before Sirianna threw the door open with an apron tied around her.

"You're back!" She smiled at him and opened the door a little wider for him.

"Told ya I would be," Billy said. He held up the bouquet and winked, "I tried to find something as pretty as you, this was the closest I could get."

"That's…? Oh."

Damn if Max wasn't right, Sirianna looked at the bouquet as if Billy was offering her a diamond.

"Thank you." Sirianna looked at Billy like he was Superman, then she kissed him like - like… like it was Billy's first ever kiss, it had him feeling light and stupid, better than any drink he'd had.

"Do you want to come sit?" Sirianna asked, breathless when she broke away. "I've got to finish cleaning up. Harry's still not home."

"Yeah, alright." Billy let Sirianna pull him to the kitchen like a dog on a leash. He might as well bark, he felt like a bitch anyway.

It was sort of worth it though, because Sirianna looked as thrilled as anyone when she carefully put the bouquet on the dining table and said Harry would make her a vase when he got home.

Because, yeah, that was a thing.

"Are you hungry? I made this chicken thing, it's a casserole? El said it was good, but I think the picture in the cookbook was better than how it turned out. I think I put too much cheese on it. Do you like cheese? Oh and I couldn't find any tomatoes so I used green peppers, I think it was spicy, but —"

Billy didn't mind listening to Sirianna ramble, she liked to talk, no sweat. But she was rambling about a casserole and suddenly wasn't looking at Billy and there was something that had her enough on edge that it put Billy there too.

"Hey, could you shut up and look at me for two seconds?" Billy asked. She didn't, she turned and still didn't meet his eyes. Billy started to stand up, he wasn't going to stick around if she really didn't want him there. Hot and cold wasn't a game he wanted to play, not with her.

"I can go," he said. "If you didn't want me here, you could have just said—"

"I don't know how to have sex!"

What. The. Fuck.

Sirianna looked at him then and she had fucking tears in her eyes like she committed to a crime. And, yeah, that was kind of a stupid thing to say because - what? But also she spent years locked up in a cell, Billy didn't think she had any experience at all.

Billy was pretty sure he had been her first kiss, which kicked ass.

"And that's got something to do with a fucking casserole?" Billy asked, clearly missing something somewhere.

"No, but… but you told Harry… um… that if someone invited him to their house it meant - that they want… you know." Sirianna was bright red and stuttering while she looked ready to bawl. "And that horrible Ashley told me at practice today that you and her had… had sex… but I - I don't know how!"

"Jesus Christ." Billy didn't know if he wanted to laugh or go smash the windows of Ashley Sander's car. He didn't laugh though, because Sirianna probably would have started actually crying if he did that.

Billy sort of moved his arms at his side while he took a step toward her, not really sure what he was offering, but happy enough when she closed the gap between them and wrapped her own arms around him.

"If you think I thought we were screwing tonight then you're fucked in the head," Billy said bluntly. Sirianna's hair was loose and Billy kind of put his hand on the back of her head and felt how soft it was. "I'm not stupid, babe. We can, you know," Billy couldn't even believe he was fucking saying it, "take it slow, or whatever."

Witchcraft. It was fucking witchcraft and Billy would swear on it until the day he died. And if it wasn't Sirianna, Billy never would have said it.

"And Ashley's a jealous bitch," Billy added. "She fucking begged me to take her out again and I wouldn't."

Ashley tried to get clingy, Billy told her to fuck off in those exact words. She'd been easy to charm, easy to fuck, easier to forget.

Sirianna was muffled by Billy's chest, but he was pretty sure she said, "Chrissy said she's got a pizza face."

"So don't listen to jealous bitches with pizza faces," Billy said. "Is your sister asleep?"

"She's watching TV in Chief Hopper's room."

"Great." Billy snatched Sirianna up, grinned at her red face when she yelped as he cradled her in his arms. "Let's go not fuck on your couch then."

"It's not funny!" Sirianna cried while Billy shut the sink off and carried her little ass toward the living room. There was an ashtray on a bookshelf that he snagged when he passed, clearly the Chief didn't mind smoke in his house.

"It's actually funny as hell," Billy argued. He sat on the couch and arranged her on his lap so he could see her face. "It's the stupidest shit anyone's said all day to me. I didn't even bring a condom, Sirianna, I wasn't here to get laid."

"So… so you're not just ‘going through every girl at Hawkins High'?" Sirianna asked, so fucking bashfully that Billy doubted those were her words.

He was going to find a way to ruin Ashley's fucking life for that. What a jealous bitch.

It also put Billy in the uncomfortable position where it felt a lot like Sirianna was asking about his feelings. Which he didn't have. But she had her big green eyes and there was a strand of her hair loose on her forehead that Billy focused on tucking behind her ear while he tried to answer at least enough that she'd shut up about Ashley Sander.

"I mean… God damn, what do you want me to say? I kind of thought we were steady or whatever. You were the one talking about double dates with your friends and you wear my jacket and - and I brought fucking flowers, Sirianna. Do you think I buy those for anyone? Ever?"

Never. Never ever. Billy did not do flowers. Billy didn't do letting chicks take his jacket and pull him around like a bitch. Billy didn't give chicks his word about stupid shit and he didn't do taking it slow. Not for anyone else. If Sirianna told him to fuck off then and there, Billy wouldn't do it again.

Billy felt like his insides were breaking out in a rash he was so uncomfortable while Sirianna started to perk up because she was a sadistic fucking witch.

"So - so I'm like your girlfriend?" she asked.

Was she fucking serious?

Billy's jaw tensed with confusion, irritation, and too much fucking - fucking fondness. It was the type of mix only Sirianna caused, probably the reason why he put himself through it all. He already sounded like an idiot once though, if she didn't get it then that was on her.

Actually she was locked in a cell for years, so maybe Billy really did have to spell shit out clear as could be.

Instead of answering right away, he yanked her closer, his hand sliding to the back of her neck as he crushed his lips against hers. It wasn't gentle, she didn't seem to care about gentleness either. It was messy and heated, he tightened his grip on her hair, didn't pull it though. She dug her fucking nails in his shoulders when Billy flicked his tongue out to give her a hint of what he was trying to do. It took her a second, but she slowly opened her mouth just enough that Billy could show her the only goal he had for the night.

‘I don't know how to have sex', Jesus fucking Christ, man.

Billy's frustration and irritation at having to say so much melted when she scooted as close to him as she could and moved one of her hands to the back of his head to tangle in his curls.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was rough, and Sirianna looked fucking dazed with her lips slightly swollen and her cheeks the right shade of pink.

"Yeah, babe, I thought that was really clear," he said. "Which means if some dipshit tries to ask you out, you're busy with your boyfriend."

"And if Ashley talks to you, I'll probably hit her," Sirianna breathed.

"Do it anyway," Billy said. Before Sirianna could say anything else though, or before Billy gave her a list of chicks he'd slept with just to see her throwing fists at all of them, he pulled her back to him. Instead of picking up where they left off, Billy kissed her slow, sweet, simple.

Billy was sure he'd fuck it up eventually, he always fucked up a good thing. But she was there and she was fucking perfect with her own fucked up shit - ten times worse than any shit Billy carried around - and she was his.

Yeah, Billy thought that had been really clear already.

They had a good hour to themselves, spent most of it glued to the couch while Billy took his time kissing her, kissing her neck, biting it when she seemed to be into it… he had his hands up and down her back, on her sides, trying to keep them in PG enough places. Not that Sirianna gave a fuck, she fucking popped a button off his shirt when she slid her hands underneath it to fondle him.

When there were a pair of headlights that lit up the living room after ten, Billy about lost it. There was no good time for him to meet the Chief of Police outside of the few interactions they already had - but a real fucking bad time would be when he couldn't even button his shirt up and Sirianna had a fucking hickey on her neck.

"Gotta go." Billy pecked Sirianna on the lips quickly before shoving her off his lap. Best case scenario, the Chief took a swing at him. Worst case, he took him home and told Neil any number of stories that would ruin the rest of Billy's week.

"Billy!" Sirianna hissed at him when Billy headed toward the back of the house, planning to go through the back door and hide out until it was clear to grab his car. "It's Steve and Harry!" she said.

Oh.

Shit.

"Oh. Shit." Billy stopped his quick escape and knew he looked like a dumbass little kid when he walked back in the living room and grinned at Sirianna. "I thought your dad was home."

"He is not my father," Sirianna said, rolling her eyes like the distinction would save Billy's face if they got caught making out on the Chief's sofa. "Honestly, did you think if it was him that he'd storm in here and start screaming?"

Screaming? Nah.

"Can't be too sure with cops," Billy said, breezy as anything. He leaned against the doorway, figured he'd stick around to see that Sirianna's brother made it back alright. "You think they made it to first base tonight?"

"First base?"

Billy didn't get a chance to explain before the door opened slowly and Harry tiptoed inside. Billy started to look him over, didn't make it past his face before he was frowning.

"Why the fuck are you covered in dirt?" Billy strode forward because he was pretty fucking sure Harry was bleeding too and he would kill Harrington.

Then he saw Harrington behind Harry and he looked just as much like shit with dirt all over him, a scrape on his cheek, and a fucking leaf in his hair.

"Harry?" Sirianna was lunging for her brother while Billy easily sidestepped him and grabbed Harrington by his shirt.

"The fuck did you do?" Billy yelled, slamming Harrington against the porch wall. The two of them looked like they got in a fight and Billy was fucking positive that it hadn't been Harry who would have started it.

"Oi! Put him down!" Harry, all twenty fucking pounds of him, tried to shoulder Billy away from Harrington while Sirianna didn't say a word - Billy knew she'd let him beat Harrington's ass if he fucked with her brother. And Billy was going to, he was going to beat the shit out of Harrington, but that was before Harry so helpfully defended his little boyfriend.

"He didn't do anything! We were burying a body!"

Billy dropped Harrington, only in complete and utter shock that he was starting to think only Sirianna and her brother could cause.

Because what… the fuck… did Harry just say to Billy?

"Harry…" Sirianna seemed as shocked as Billy was and she grabbed Harry's hand to make him look at her instead of glaring at Billy with all the force of a newly hatched, and filthy, baby bird. "Bubby, what the fuck did you just say?"

It didn't seem to be Billy's night because Harry fucking repeated himself - "We were burying a body" - at the exact same time as the Chief of Police Cruiser pulled up in the driveway, the headlights washing over all of them on the porch, and blocked Billy's car right where it was.

The cherry on the shit storm sundae that Billy was stuck standing in the middle of was when El walked out on the porch and looked around at them all and —

"The fuck?" fell out of her mouth.

Best case scenario was starting to look like the Chief pulling his gun and putting ten bullets in Billy's chest.

Chapter Text

Harry carefully went through his clothes and found a pair of black trousers and a black sweater. He held them up for El and she nodded in approval.

"Dark," she said.

"Exactly," Harry agreed. Harry didn't have an invisibility cloak anymore and he would need to not be noticed. Steve said they were breaking the laws - Siri said Harry was breaking the law with magic - and they should wear black.

Harry had time to change and to give El the book he found in the library during his lunch hour. There had been a girl in the library at lunch who had been helpful when Harry said he needed a book for his younger sister. There weren't many books in the high school library, not like Hogwarts had.

The girl found a book about poems that she said El might like. Harry checked and there weren't too many big words, he didn't think El could read very well. He gave her the book with a notebook and pen and showed her how to write the words down she didn't know.

"Homework?" El asked.

"Yes." It was like Harry's homework except El would know how to do it because Harry took the time to make sure she understood. Harry didn't understand most of his classes or the homework they assigned.

Some of it wasn't terrible, English and World History were pretty standard. Creative Writing was Harry's favorite class, it was the one that made the most sense. Pre-Algebra and Health were confusing, and thankfully Home Economics and PE didn't assign homework.

Not that it mattered, Harry hadn't done any homework since Jonathan offered to help him on his first day and then his brother went missing. Harry could read without his head aching and he would still fail every class he had.

It shouldn't matter, but Harry used to be good at school. Harry had top grades and a best friend who helped him learn anything he didn't know.

Harry had more important things to do than think about how it would be to have all failing grades. Siri would be home at six, then Steve would be there to pick Harry up.

That was important, making sure someone's friend wasn't left behind to rot alone.

They killed him, They killed him and nobody cared because he wasn't Will.

"Subject Zero Seven is a 12 year old male wizard, classified as half-blood, known survivor of the killing curse. Zero Seven is a child of prophecy credited with the defeat of wizard, Lord Voldemort. Subject Zero Seven prophecy regarding the subject and Lord Voldemort cited as: either must die at the hands of the other."

"Trial Zero One of Project Echo: killing curse."

Steve cared about the child who had been killed and used as a distraction. Steve said it wasn't right to leave him behind and Harry agreed - it wasn't right, to be left behind.

Siri walked in the door late, only by five minutes though. Harry was already dressed and ready so he reminded El that he didn't know when he would be home, but it might be very late.

"And you're going to hang out with Steve?" Siri asked, looking at Harry in the mirror by the door as she let her hair out of the sparkly thing holding it in place.

"Yes," Harry said. He was. Harry had practiced and rehearsed in his head all day - he watched how the other students interacted and had it planned out. Harry would smile, ask how Steve's practice went, ask him if he liked his classes, and then… then Harry wasn't sure.

The students, especially the boys, spent a lot of time punching each other, usually on the shoulder, and calling each other names. Harry tried to see how Steve and Billy interacted with their classmates, but quickly realized that Billy didn't interact with them and Steve… well… Steve didn't that day either. Students interacted with Steve, they tripped him and hit him with their shoulders and called him an entire list of names that Harry thought were probably insults, and Steve said nothing to any of them.

Instead, Harry watched Siri and her friends. Siri knew how to make people like her, how to make sure they didn't hate every second spent near her. Siri was kind, polite, funny, and did a lot of smiling.

Harry hoped it wouldn't take them long to bury the dead boy, he didn't have a lot of notes.

"Are you sure?" Siri turned around and stared at Harry with a furled brow. "You're not just leaving because Billy's here, right?"

"I am sure," Harry said. He told Siri that he had plans with Steve, he might not have told her exactly what those plans were. Harry… Harry wasn't trying to leave her out, he just didn't want her to go with them. If he told her what they were doing, Siri would go with them.

Everyone loved Siri. Siri was bright and funny and knew how to talk to people and she was beautiful and everyone liked her, always. Harry - Harry was too quiet and weird and embarrassing and if Siri went with him then - then Steve would talk to Siri.

Harry rehearsed normal conversations in his head, nothing weird or embarrassing at all. He practiced all day. Harry could spend time with someone and talk to them.

Sirianna stared harder at Harry, she probably knew he was hiding something, and so Harry walked outside to see if Steve was there yet. He said six, it was after six. Siri was home, Harry was ready.

Steve was not there, Billy was.

"All you're missing is a ski-mask," Billy called to him from where he leaned on the side of his car.

Why would Harry need a ski mask? Skiing was done on snowy mountain slopes and it wasn't snowing? It was cold, but not cold enough for snow yet.

Harry didn't say that, he had practiced not saying things that were strange.

"Hello." Harry walked toward Billy with a smile, making himself as friendly as Siri was.

"Jesus!" Billy's entire face twitched and Harry didn't know why at first. "Are you trying to fucking smile?!"

He… was. How did he do it wrong? Other people smiled and nobody said ‘Jesus' to them.

"Is it not working?" Harry asked, trying to hold the smile in place while he spoke. It was hard, and it hurt his cheeks.

"No." Billy took a deep breath and then he smiled at Harry and Harry tried it - tried to take a deep breath and copy Billy's smile. Billy had a nice smile and Harry wanted to smile like that too.

"Like this?" It still hurt to talk and smile, but it wasn't as bad as before. Billy said he got it and Harry started practicing again, practicing smiling then not smiling, smiling then not smiling.

"You've got a date!"

Harry stopped smiling and looked around, thinking Billy must have been talking to someone else. Billy was looking at Harry though and Harry - Harry didn't have a date? Siri had a date, with Billy. She told Harry so the night before and that morning, and in two of their classes.

Siri had a date with Billy because she wanted to hold his hand and kiss him and call him her boyfriend. Harry had plans and notes and a dead child who needed to be buried.

"Er… no." Harry's stomach did an uncomfortable twist, almost like it was flipping inside out, and his body got hot. Harry didn't want to hold anyone's hand except Siri's sometimes and he didn't want to kiss anyone and he wasn't sure he even understood why Siri wanted to have a boyfriend.

"No, I don't," Harry told Billy. "It's not - that."

Harry tried to picture what it would be like to hold hands with someone, with Steve. It would be uncomfortable, his skin would itch Harry's skin and it would be rough and he wouldn't know which direction Harry wanted to walk so he would pull on his arm.

"Oh, it totally is." Billy laughed and all of Harry's rehearsals in his head seemed to disappear because… were dates always romantic? Little kids had play dates, older students at Hogwarts had dates with girlfriends and boyfriends, Harry had study dates with Theo.

Was Billy right? Did that change anything? Did it mean Harry was supposed to do something else? Or was Harry going to embarrass himself, embarrass Steve?

Billy started asking questions and it made Harry dizzy - where was he going? Was he going with a girl or boy?

It wasn't a date. Harry told Steve he wanted to bury the child They killed, Steve wanted the same thing. Harry said "I think you're right, we should bury the body" and Steve didn't say "It's a date".

Unless that was another thing everyone else understood that Harry didn't. Stupid Harry and his failing grades, stupid Harry who never understood what everyone else was talking about.

And Billy was still talking. Maybe that was why Siri liked him, he talked so much.

"Don't let him take you to the quarry unless you're trying to get smashed in more ways than one," Billy said, pointing at Harry as if Harry should know what he meant.

How many ways were there to get smashed?

"Smashed?" Harry asked, sure that Billy didn't mean a synonym for squashed.

"You know..." Billy paused to light a cigarette, one that he waved away from Harry. "Get your rocks off? Get laid?"

Harry was meant to know what that meant? It - it was like Billy was speaking a language that Harry had never learned. Everyone had learned how to interact with each other while Harry had been busy dying and surviving.

"Just stay away from the fucking quarry," Billy told him, which made sense at least. "No backseats, nobody's house, stay sober."

That was a simple enough list. Harry could do that, even if he wasn't entirely sure why he needed to. Harry had been in the backseat of Steve's car before, he had been at his house. Nothing bad ever happened.

"Hey," Billy pointed at Harry, Harry leaned away from him, "if they try any shit at all, if they're not the most fucking respectful person, get your ass out of there. Got it? If you can get to a phone, call here and I'll give you a ride back or whatever."

That… that made sense, sort of. Siri said things like that, to tell her if anyone was rude to him.

"Er… got it?" Harry liked Billy well enough, were they friends? Because friends said things like that, said to tell them if they needed help. Yeah, maybe they were. Billy was loud, everything about him was loud, but… but Harry didn't mind too much. Billy didn't say Harry was embarrassing and weird, Harry wouldn't tell him that he was noisy and smelled like cigarettes.

Siri would like that, Harry and Billy being friends.

"And go change your shirt," Billy told him. "You got one of those sweaters in green? Like a dark green? You can't wear black on black, it clashes. It's fine if it's got black print, but it can't be solid black."

How did Harry mess that up?! How could he possibly have misunderstood when Steve said they should wear black?

Harry grit his teeth together in frustration at himself on his way inside to change and then tried to smile despite being so frustrated. Every time that Harry thought he was fitting in more, talking more, trying harder, he was wrong.

El and Siri were both inside the bedroom when Harry dragged himself in there and started peeling off his black sweater. He did have a green one, exactly like Billy described, hanging up in the closet.

Siri was giggling while Harry changed, which didn't do much for his confidence in being alone with Steve.

"You didn't tell me it was a date," Siri said, grinning from ear to ear without anyone thinking her face was wrong.

"I didn't know it was," Harry mumbled, annoyed and embarrassed. Stupid Harry, didn't know anything. Everything Harry learned in the last three years was useless, nothing that he could talk about or use to make anyone like him.

"Har? Are you upset?" Siri pressed her palm to her chest and Harry imagined he felt an echo of a flare in his own chest. Siri held a hand out to Harry after he fixed the sweater on himself and Harry took it too quickly, too gratefully.

"I made a list," Harry told Siri in a pained whisper. "I watched everyone else and practiced what to do - how to fit in."

"Oh, Bubby." Siri pulled Harry in and she was wrapped around him, hugging him as fiercely as she spoke. "You don't need to be like everyone else. You're brilliant, Harry, you're smart and funny, remember Professor McGonagall used to call you Mister Sassy? And Professor Dumbledore said you were - were… what was the word? Oh! Spirited!"

That didn't count, those were adults and Harry - Harry wasn't that person anymore. They didn't know Harry anymore, they probably buried him and never looked back.

"Just be yourself," Siri said, the worst advice yet. "Maybe - maybe try and not hide so much, okay? Oh! I know! Pretend Steve is Theo! Remember Theo? Pretend Steve is Theo and you'll be fine!!"

That… Harry could probably do that. Harry and Theo had study dates and library dates and mystery dates. They had sleepovers in their dorm and Theo liked Harry. Theo didn't think he was weird or needed to try harder.

Steve even kind of looked like Theo, with his fluffy brunette hair and big brown eyes.

"And that's a perfect smile," Siri said warmly, pulling back so she could see Harry's face. He didn't know he was smiling, it just happened. Siri smiled too and Harry could do it. Harry could be alone with Steve for a few hours, Harry could have a… burying a body date.

If Steve ever showed up. He was late, fifteen minutes late.

Harry wandered back outside and looked down the road, hoping Steve didn't change his mind. He didn't have time to worry too much about it before he saw Steve's car turning on Harry's road.

It would be okay. As long as they buried the boy, showed him that someone did care about him, it would be okay.

Steve parked across from the house and Harry started walking toward him, carefully still practicing the best way to smile. It was harder to do it without Siri standing there, telling him if he was doing it right or not.

"Hey!" Billy yelled at Harry when he was halfway to Steve's car. Harry paused, glanced toward him. "You tell him next time he can park in the driveway, like a God damned man."

And there was the rock on Harry's chest again, the heavy weight of how many things people said that he didn't understand. How did a parking spot decide if someone was a man or not? Hop told Harry that he was a man and Harry couldn't even drive.

"I mean what I said," Billy added. "If he pulls any shit at all, you get me."

"Right," Harry said. That helped some, Billy being Harry's friend. Harry turned so Steve didn't see him and smiled at Billy. The rock lightened when Billy gave him a thumbs up.

Harry had made it through years of pain and misery and death. Harry could spend a few hours alone with Steve without being embarrassing.

"Subject Zero-Seven, Project Echo. Subject has been given extensive testing post-Trial Zero One, Subject has no health deformities nor brain abnormalities. Subject is at an elevated level of magical strength, cause unknown."

"Please," Harry was begging that time, he knew what was going to happen. "Please," Harry looked around at the mass of witches and wizards who surrounded him and needed just one person to help him. Harry should be sweating, his heart should be racing. Whatever they gave him in the potion vial made him too calm, too calm when he knew they were going to kill him.

Harry didn't want to die, he didn't want to. Harry wanted to live, he wanted his sister and he wanted to go to Hogwarts and he wanted to burrow down in his bed and fly again.

"Please, please, don't do this."

"Trial Zero Three of Project Echo: his own hands."

One of the wizards pointed a wand at Harry - "Imperio."

Harry's mind went blank, blissfully blank. All of his worries, his fears, they were gone. It was only Harry, floating along in a dark sea of peace. A voice interrupted his peace, but it was soft, gentle.

"You can have this peace for an eternity," it said. "Stand up. Stand up on your chair."

Harry didn't know how standing on his chair would bring him peace, but he started to stand.

"Why though?" he whispered to the voice. "Why should I stand up?"

"Don't you want to feel this way forever?"

That was a good point. Harry stood up and the sea of white coats surrounding him weren't threatening or scary anymore, they were just there.

"Take that rope, tighten it around your neck."

"That - I don't want to do that."

"You'd rather be in pain? You'd rather hurt? If you don't, you'll be in pain and so will your sister."

Harry took the rope, he wiggled it around his head. It was Harry's hands that pulled on it to make sure it was tight and Harry kicked off the chair before the voice told him to.

"Hello." Harry smiled at Steve, pretended that he was Theo. Steve was older than Harry ever got to see Theo become, but there were enough similarities that it wasn't hard to imagine Steve could be who Theo became. "Billy said to tell you to park in the driveway like a man."

Steve made a sound, one that wasn't necessarily a laugh, but sounded more like he was choking actually. Harry was a bit concerned, but he seemed to breathe fine after they were past Harry's house and Billy.

"Yeah, I was avoiding a fight, actually," Steve said. And that made sense, Billy and Steve seemed to fight a lot. They wouldn't anymore though, Siri told Billy to leave Steve alone and Harry didn't think that Steve started fights.

Steve glanced over at Harry and he seemed to stare at Harry's sweater for a second, long enough that Harry pulled uncertainly on it.

"Er… Billy said I clashed?" Harry said, he would tell Theo that- tell him that someone said his clothes didn't match. "I don't know."

Steve looked fine in his black sweater and black trousers. It made his face seem lighter and his eyes were more brown. Harry didn't think Steve clashed at all.

"I think fashion takes a backseat to the felonies we're about to commit," Steve pointed out, which - which Harry should have thought of. Felonies were crimes, the worst ones. Steve said they'd be committing at least two when they stole the child's body and buried it.

"Right." Harry felt hot again, uncomfortable. He should have told Billy that, told him that he had to wear black because Steve said they were committing crimes and didn't want to be caught.

Harry was sure he wouldn't be caught, even without the cloak he'd never missed as much as he did then, but he didn't want Steve to get caught either. Steve cared about the child, he shouldn't be punished for that.

Steve looked over at him and Harry quit smiling, he looked out the windshield and tried to think of what he could say. Should he ask Steve about his classes? Would he ask Theo about his classes? Harry would know about Theo's classes, they would be in them together.

Should Harry just be quiet?

"I like your sweater," Steve said quickly. He cleared his throat before going on, "I mean, it's probably stupid for us to wear black anyway. I've got no freaking idea how we're going to do this."

Harry looked down at his sweater, one of the few that Siri picked for him that he actually liked. It was dark green, a Slytherin green, and had little crisscrosses of black thread across the fabric. Steve was talking about breaking into a morgue, finding the morgue, and how they would move a body, and Harry tried to not hide, not crawl away, but to pretend that Steve was who Theo became and he was his best friend and Harry could talk to him.

Normal. Like everyone else.

"The weather is nice," Harry said. "Do you like it?"

It wasn't too cold, there wouldn't be any snow for a while. The sun was still shining in the afternoons, but the wind kept it from being hot.

"I… yeah, I guess so." Steve leaned back in his seat and Harry saw that his grip on the steering wheel loosened and blood flowed more easily to his fingers. That was a sign of relaxation, which was good.

"Fall's my favorite season," Steve said, his eyes on the road and his words seeming to come a little easier. "Basketball and homecoming happen in the fall, plus it's not too cold so like I can still sit outside a lot, you know?"

"You shouldn't sit outside too much," Harry told him. "There's a secondary peak of tornadoes in Indiana that happens in fall, especially early November."

Tornadoes, like magic, could kill an infinite number of people in an incredibly short timespan. They couldn't be stopped, they could only run their course while people hid and tried to keep themselves safe.

"I thought they happened in the spring?" Steve said. "That's when we had - oh, shit, it was crazy - it was like an outbreak of super tornadoes, right? I think I was like seven, maybe eight?"

"Yes! In April 1974!" Harry said, thrilled that Steve wanted to talk about it. Harry wanted to ask people what it was like, Siri said it would be rude. "I was five! Did you know 335 people died?"

"Yeah, it was all over the news and my teacher kept talking about it. I remember my mom was totally freaking out about it, told my dad we should move."

"Alaska," Harry said knowingly. "It's very cold, but it has the fewest number of tornadoes recorded in the United States."

"Alaska would be miserable." Steve laughed, even though it wasn't a joke. Alaska wouldn't be miserable, but it would be difficult to live in.

"I like the cold," Harry said, thinking about cozy fires and hot chocolate and all the things that weren't as good when the weather wasn't cold outside. "And the snow."

"You like the snow?" Steve was still grinning, which meant Harry was doing great. "Really?"

"Yeah, my friend and I made a cave in the snow one time," Harry said, thinking about the best Christmas of his life. Siri had been busy with the Weasley family, they tried to get Harry and Theo to play with them but Harry didn't want snow thrown at his face. Instead, Harry and Theo spent two days piling snow up and then digging out a cave large enough for them to both squeeze into.

Professor Flitwick helped them out some, but Harry and Theo did the majority of the work.

"I used to make snow angels, with my friend Tommy," Steve said. "They always sucked."

"Snow angels? How do you do that?" Harry asked. He had never heard of them before, were there snow devils too?

"You kind of… lay on the snow and…" Steve waved his arm up and down, very nearly knocking Harry's glasses off his face. "It's hard to explain, I'll show you when it snows."

"Okay." Harry wouldn't have to wait long, only a few weeks really.

Steve didn't say anything so Harry didn't either. Steve did mumble about the morgue being in the hospital and Harry nodded easily, that made sense to keep bodies in the place they were most likely to die.

Harry was pinned to a table, the wizards around him had cloth masks covering half of their faces. Harry didn't bother squirming, he didn't plead.

"Subject Zero Seven beginning Trial Zero Five of Project Echo. Subject is a healthy male patient, aged thirteen. Patient has survived four prior trials in addition to an alleged killing curse faced at 13 months old. Prophecy regarding the patient alludes to patient's inability to die at the hands of any except for wizard known as Lord Voldemort. Trial five of Project Echo will commence: flatline."

It was the most painful way to not-die yet, unbearable hot pain until there was nothing.

Then Harry opened his eyes and felt the pain all over again.

Steve parked his car behind a large building with a sign, Hawkins Hospital. He left the car running while he leaned forward and stared at the back entrances.

"Okay, so… so what should we do?" Steve asked. "Just - go find the morgue and then - what? Smuggle the body out?"

That was almost exactly Harry's plan, but… Harry could make it easier. If Steve wanted him to…

"I - er… I can make it so nobody notices us," Harry said, pulling his shoulders up when Steve turned to him. It made Harry's skin burn, every time Steve looked at him - just him. It also made it hard to explain. "It's - it's magic. But I won't use it on you if you say no, I wouldn't. If you say no, I won't use it."

Harry wouldn't, if he said not to. It would make everything easier, Harry could tear through the hospital and nobody would know he was even there if he didn't want them to know. Harry could make them silent, unnoticed. Harry could make them less noticed than a ghost living in the walls or a boy locked in a cell.

But he wouldn't use magic on Steve if he didn't want him to.

"Will it… hurt?" Steve asked.

Not if Harry didn't make it hurt - and he wouldn't.

Harry shook his head and Steve - Steve didn't hesitate. He believed him. Harry said it wouldn't hurt and Steve blew out a loud breath before he said it was okay.

It was easy, magic was so easy. It shouldn't have been and Harry ignored the itch of wrong that it made him feel - it was being used for something good.

"Wait, that's it?" Steve laughed quickly and looked down at his arms for something. "I'm just kind of tingly?"

"Nobody should notice us," Harry said, working hard to not laugh at Steve as he pinched himself over and over. "Or hear us, if we're not loud."

"Perfect!" Steve seemed more confident in the plan and Harry wondered what he would have done if Harry couldn't use magic. "Let's go… steal a body!"

Was it really stealing if They stole it first? How was it a bad thing to take the boy from Them and show him that someone cared? That someone cared even if he wasn't Will Byers?

It didn't feel like a crime to Harry, but most things didn't anymore.

The back door of the hospital was locked and Steve stepped aside when Harry quietly offered to open it.

"Handy," Steve said approvingly once they were inside. It was a back hallway, probably used to move trash out of the hospital. "So I guess you can do like anything?" he whispered.

Anything? No. Harry couldn't live forever or save his sister from being in pain or make food appear from thin air when he needed it. Unlocking doors? Making himself and Steve go unnoticed in a hospital? Those were too simple.

"I don't know what all I can do," Harry said, looking around and deciding to go toward a stairwell. A morgue would need to be cold, dungeons were cold, Harry's best guess would be that they needed to go to a lower floor.

"I wish I had magic powers," Steve whispered. They were very close together while they walked and Harry could feel Steve's arm brushing his every few steps. Harry took half a step toward the right, then went back to the left.

"No, you don't," Harry said. Or maybe he did, maybe Steve would love Hogwarts and he would love getting a wand and being like everyone else. Maybe if Harry could have been like everyone else then he would love it too. Maybe Harry would feel lucky to have so much magic flowing inside of him, leaping when he used it for any small task.

"I - sorry, stupid thing to say," Steve said. His arm seemed to brush Harry's more purposefully and Harry could feel it scalding to his bones, burning every nerve in the path.

Harry thought he might get sick - might be sick - because when they found a staircase and started down them, Harry made himself brush his left arm on Steve's right. It burned again, searing him. Harry stepped away and felt his heart racing, pumping too quickly in a rush of adrenaline.

"It wasn't stupid," Harry whispered. There were signs on the stair walls and Harry could read them before he was even on the landing, that was nice. Harry's guess seemed to be good, there were arrows for the morgue on the next landing that opened into a new dimly lit corridor.

Steve wasn't stupid - he was kind, friendly. People used to seem like they liked Steve, like they loved him the same way people loved Siri.

"Why does everyone seem angry at you?" Harry asked, telling himself that it was Theo, just Theo. If it was Theo, Harry could ask him personal questions.

"Because everyone's a fucking asshole," Steve mumbled. His face was red when Harry looked over at him and Harry stared for an extra second, noticing that his eyes were bright, but not wet. They were brown, like Theo's, except there were some little gold flecks in them, gold like the snitch.

"Someone started a rumor, about me," Steve said, glancing over and catching Harry staring at him. Harry looked away quickly, he shouldn't have been staring.

"What was it?" Harry wondered.

"Uh… just something stupid, it doesn't matter," Steve said in a quick rush. "But everyone believes it and now they're being assholes."

Harry nodded understandably. They did that when Harry and Siri started school at Hawkins too.

"They aren't very kind." Harry turned and bumped into Steve, then twitched away when it was Harry's chest that Steve's arm bumped into. Was Harry wrong? Was there something different about Steve? Harry didn't burn every time he touched Siri or El.

Harry shouldn't have bumped into him again, on purpose, but it was a test to see if it would happen again. It did.

There was something wrong with Steve, wrong with Harry.

Steve hummed and it sounded like he agreed.

"Your sister seems to have made it her personal problem though," Steve said.

"Siri does that," Harry told him. The doors they passed were getting further and further apart, it was getting colder too. They both jumped backward against the wall when someone in blue clothes started running down the corridor with a man screaming on a bed.

Harry wondered what was wrong with him, if he could be fixed. Would he scream forever?

"Harry!" Steve whispered Harry's name after they were passed unnoticed. Harry had been staring after the bed while Steve wandered further down the corridor. "Here it is!"

Harry shook off his curiosity about the man screaming and caught up to Steve. He shook his head again when Steve started to open the door and checked if it was safe first - a door being opened would be noticed no matter what.

It didn't feel like anyone was inside, there was a tingle of magic though that made Harry think the boy who died was there.

"You can wait out here," Harry told Steve. Steve had been sick and upset when Benny died, Harry sort of thought there might be more than one body inside a room that was made to collect bodies. Steve wouldn't want to see them, it wouldn't bother Harry though.

"What? No, that's crazy. How are you going to get the body out on your own?" Steve asked. Harry blinked at him, wondering if he really needed to— "Oh." Steve blinked then - brown and gold, brown and gold. "Magic."

"Magic," Harry echoed. "Maybe - maybe you can be the lookout?"

That's what Harry told Theo, the day they went to try and save Nicholas Flamel's stone from being stolen. Siri wouldn't stay behind, she made Harry share a potion made for one. Theo was the lookout, that's what Harry had told him.

Theo hadn't been happy about it and Steve looked just as unhappy.

"I'm not a baby, I can help," Steve said. "If you want to be the lookout, be my guest."

Harry couldn't exactly argue when Steve stepped forward and opened the door himself, rushing in like Harry once rushed through a doorway filled with flames.

Steve was brave, Harry thought. He didn't like bodies, he'd looked sick and had cried when Benny died - so he was really stepping in a room filled with things he didn't like. Harry wouldn't have done it.

The morgue was colder than the rest of the hospital had been and if it didn't smell horrible, Harry would have liked it. It was silent, nothing but a row of silver drawers on one wall, a table in the middle of the room, and a computer and a load of instruments Harry didn't want to look at on the other wall.

It was peaceful, but it smelled really bad.

"Oh. Fuck." Steve pulled his sweater up to cover his nose and Harry saw a flash of skin - a flash of Steve's skin. It was still there, peeking out from beneath his sweater. He was going to get cold.

Harry didn't cover his nose, it smelled bad - not as bad as when hair and skin burned or when flesh began to rot into something twisted and unrecognizable. Harry looked around the room, wondered where… oh.

The drawers.

"What's on that computer?" Harry asked Steve, stepping in the other direction. Steve looked at the computer and Harry waited until he was distracted by it, by something Harry didn't care about, before Harry opened the first drawer.

Nothing.

"Am I supposed to be like looking for clues? Hacking something?" Steve asked, his voice becoming distant when Harry focused on the feeling of magic in the room. The next drawer wasn't empty - it wasn't the boy.

It was a woman, an old woman whose skin was so loose around her face that it looked like it could fall off. Her eyes were gaunt, her cheeks sunken in. There were white wisps of hair that laid over her shoulders, brittle and thin hair.

She was dead and she would never breathe again, never feel the sunshine again. Dead.

Harry closed that drawer quickly and moved to the next one.

"Er… I dunno," Harry said, sure he had the right drawer next. He glanced over his shoulder, made sure Steve wasn't looking before he pulled it open.

That was it - him. Harry looked down and saw that the bloating in the face had been lessened, the skin wasn't as stretched out and shining as it had been. It - he - looked more like Will, less green and full of water.

It wasn't Will though, Harry didn't know who it was. It was some boy who never got to grow up, never got to have birthdays or to laugh with his friends. He didn't get to fly or read new books or make snow caves. He died, probably alone and in unimaginable pain, and nobody knew it, nobody cared.

"Harry? Oh, oh shit." Steve grabbed Harry's elbow and Harry jolted so hard he rattled the drawer he was still holding. It shook the body and one of his arms fell out, dangling toward the ground but not even long enough to reach it.

"That's Will… that's Jonathan's brother… oh, God. Fuck. Fuck. That's actually him, Harry."

Steve sounded… panicked, maybe? Definitely not calm. He was also wrong, which Harry thought he might be able to prove.

Harry held his hand over Not-Will's face and wiggled his fingers, searching for the thick feeling of magic that radiated from his skin. It was there, thick and sticky. Harry pulled the invisible threads away, one at a time, and watched as Will's features began to shimmer and change to show a new person.

The right person.

He was younger than Will, smaller. The boy had freckled skin, dark blonde hair that was thicker and wavier than Will's had been. Harry couldn't see his eyes, but they were small with dark purple bags beneath them. That was who died alone, that was who had been thrown in a gutter and called the wrong name.

"He's - he's just a kid," Steve said, his voice pinging through the empty place in Harry's chest. "God, was he even ten yet?"

Maybe. Maybe not.

"He was eleven," Harry decided. He carefully lifted the bruise covered arm that had fallen out and placed it on the boy's chest, crossing it so gently so he could be asleep if his chest were moving. "His name was… Charles. Everyone called him Charlie."

Harry had a tshirt underneath his sweater, so he pulled his sweater off - it was soft and warm, a good color, not too itchy. Harry used magic when he shook it out until it was large enough to wrap the boy up in. Steve went on the other side of the boy and helped Harry wrap him up while Harry imagined what Charles's life could have been like.

"He liked cinnamon tarts and pumpkin juice, he dunked his tarts in juice sometimes…" Harry looked at the little boy's face, wished that he had a better ending before so gently covering it with the sweater. "He probably didn't like to read, he had friends and they were always getting him to play games together."

Steve cleared his throat and Harry focused on the boy instead of Steve as he made him lighter, easier to carry. Harry lifted him in his arms and even if he was feather-light, Harry could feel a heavy weight on his own chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"Like - like baseball." Steve tripped on his way to the door, then threw it open for Harry, adding a rush of fresh air that helped clear away some of the horrible smell. Harry didn't think he could take a single step, didn't know if he could ever move - breathe - until Steve kept talking to him.

"Charlie probably - I bet he was the best pitcher they had," Steve said. "His dad bought him a bat, the nicest freaking bat, and Charlie barely used it because he was such a good pitcher."

Harry didn't know what any of that meant, but he knew he could move his feet, one at a time, and walk toward Steve.

"Yeah, so he probably really liked Tom Seaver, he wanted to be like him when he grew up. His dad liked that, his mom thought he should read more, try and find a job in medicine or something that made more money."

Steve talked quietly about Charlie's family, his parents and the holidays they took to baseball stadiums and how Charlie collected baseball cards and autographs. That meant that Charlie practiced his autograph every day, planned to be famous when he was older.

Except Charlie didn't get older, didn't become famous. Charlie was taken and killed, tortured until there were purple and green bruises covering his body and there were thick scars down his arms.

Charlie didn't give his autograph because he was a famous baseball player, he gave his life because a group of wizards decided he could answer questions for him.

Harry didn't like the feeling in the room, the thick sense of anticipation and excitement. Something changed, something changed after the testing and after Harry started feeling Siri's pain and her fear in his chest.

The wizards were eager to get started and that didn't mean anything good for Harry. And he didn't get to see Siri that morning, he might never see her again. Harry would feel the icy cold fear she had in his chest and feel her struggling to breathe just right while he waited for what had everyone else staring expectantly at him for.

"Subject Zero Seven…" The man with the coldest eyes stepped toward Harry and Harry stared balefully at him, refusing to let him see pain or fear or regret on his face.

They got nothing from Harry. Nothing that was willingly given.

"Project Echo has been met with six failed trials even after extensive testing," the man said, a quill and parchment recorded his every word. For prosperity. Because Harry's life was going to be used in history books that nobody would ever read.

"A trial based on echo, Project Mirror, revealed an abnormality in Patient Zero-Seven that was not shared by Patient Zero-Seven-B." The man stood directly in front of Harry and he reached out with one finger, traced the scar on Harry's forehead. "Patient Zero-Seven was discovered to be a living horcrux. As such, it is theorized that he is unable to die while his body protects the soul of another."

Someone made a sound, a sick sound. Harry didn't understand, didn't care.

"Project Echo faces its seventh trial: horcrux removal. If subject zero-seven survives, the link to immortality will theoretically be broken."

Harry was moved from his seated position to lay flat on his back. He blinked up at the bright lights, the ones that buzzed in his ears, and hoped it was quick.

Whatever it was, Harry hoped it was quick. Asking for it to be painless would be pointless, it was going to hurt. It always hurt. Harry had to swallow his screams, bottle them up where they couldn't escape.

"Begin."

There was a flash of silver, sharp silver, above Harry's head that was plunged downward all at once, directly into the center of Harry's forehead.

Harry thought he knew pain, he thought that after a lifetime spent in the deepest parts of MACUSA that he knew pain. And Harry knew nothing because it wasn't unimaginable, it wasn't something that could be described. It was being ripped apart by his cells, shredded to pieces, burned alive, flayed with a belt.

He didn't scream - Harry didn't scream once.

The last thing he heard were the screams that were choking his sister.

Harry didn't remember the ride away from the hospital, he remembered sitting in the backseat with Charlie cradled in his arms because someone should hold him. Someone should hold a little boy when he died, someone should care that his life was over.

Someone should care.

Harry blinked and Steve opened the door, held his arms out for Charlie. Harry shook his head and struggled to get out on his own, probably would have fallen if Steve didn't grab him to keep him on his feet.

It didn't burn, Harry didn't think about it.

"Hold on." Steve kept one hand on Harry's shoulder while he fumbled with the boot of his car, bent down to grab a shovel from it. Harry didn't understand why he had the shovel, but he was grateful when Steve started leading Harry through a thick set of woods.

They must have driven for quite a while, it was dark outside and Harry had a hard time walking. The boy's head bumped Harry's glasses and they were crooked, making his vision awful until Harry actually walked into a tree. It cut his face and Harry struggled to make sure that Charlie was still covered by the blanket while Steve turned to see what made him stop.

"Oh, here." He carefully fixed Harry's glasses, didn't push them hard on his eyes, until Harry could see that Steve's eyes were wet, the gold glitters weren't there anymore. Maybe they never were, maybe Harry imagined them.

Harry didn't say thank you, Steve must have known he wouldn't. Steve turned around and started walking again, a little more slowly, while Harry was careful to make sure that not a single branch or bush stuck out and cut the child who had suffered enough.

It took forever - no time at all - before the trees thinned and Harry could hear nearby water. Steve stopped in a clear space and looked around in a circle, looked at Harry. He didn't need to ask, Harry knew the answer.

It was quiet, not too covered with trees. Harry didn't hear any animals, didn't feel any magic. It was where they were going to let the boy rest, let the boy feel peace after his torment.

Steve started digging with his shovel, a rhythmic thud, shift, thud, shift. Harry watched him dig, wondered why Steve cared. Did Steve ever have a best friend? One who would have searched for him - he had to have - and then been told that it was too late, he was gone? Did Steve go to a funeral for his friend? See a body that wasn't right be buried in the ground?

Or was Steve someone who simply cared? Someone who heard about children dying and didn't want them to be left behind, to be forgotten until they were decaying and their body turned to liquid?

Thud, shift. Thud, shift.

Steve was panting, the only sound added to his digging, when the sun was fully gone. It was pitch black in the clearing, Harry couldn't see anything.

Harry couldn't see Steve, couldn't see how much he had finished. It wasn't hard to make lights, six little balls of softly glowing light, to send scattered around them until Harry could see that Steve had a hole dug nearly to his knees.

Steve was doing great, but he was panting and his face dripped with sweat and Harry could do it faster. Harry wanted to get home, see his sister, lay beside her and listen to her breathing.

"Watch out," Harry said. Tried to say. His voice broke and Harry had to swallow and then clear his throat to repeat himself so Steve heard him. Steve looked up and carefully moved out of the hole.

There was too much magic in Harry, too much willing to strike out, to help him, to hurt. It tore out and cleared a large hole, much deeper than Harry pictured but just the right size for the little boy in Harry's arms.

"That's - yeah," Steve was wheezing and leaning hard on his shovel. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Did it? Did anything make sense?

Harry shuffled forward and there was bile rising in his throat while his arms tightened on the boy. Harry didn't want to - didn't know if he could… the hole was deep, dark. What if he was scared of the dark? What if he was scared to be alone? What if —

"Harry, wait!" Steve's voice was still wrong, thick and strained, but he touched Harry's wrist when Harry kneeled beside the hole. "Can you - can you make one of those lights go with him?" Steve's face was shining with sweat and washed over in the golden lights hanging above them. He wasn't making fun of Harry's thoughts he couldn't have known, he meant it.

Steve must have shared Harry's thoughts, just in that one second. They had the same thought.

Harry nodded and he made himself unlock his arms, to float the boy out above the hole. He was so small, so young and wrapped up in a sweater colored like a house he never got to experience. With a twitch of his finger, one of the balls of light moved to his chest and Harry guided it so it was in the boy's hands, held like a security blanket.

"I'm sorry," Harry told him. "I'm sorry you're alone, I'm sorry I don't know your name."

Harry started to guide the boy downward into the hole, into the place where nothing could hurt him again. Steve reached out slowly and Harry saw him from the corner of his eye, didn't stop him.

Steve grabbed Harry's hand and they sat in silence while the boy who never got to truly live was lowered in the ground.

There wasn't any burning in Harry's hand, it was all in his eyes. The grave blurred and Harry felt like he wasn't breathing right, every breath was pained and ragged. Harry's throat was thick and a sound ripped out of it, pained and painful, when the boy was all the way in the grave and his light couldn't be seen.

All the pressure in Harry's chest pushed and it pushed until Harry moved the dirt and it cracked - the pressure burst through and Harry keened as he bent over, shook while everything was wrong and everything hurt.

What did he hear last? When was the last time someone hugged him or said they loved him? Why? Why?! What did he do wrong? Anything at all?

Or did he just exist?

Harry's shoulders shook while all the pressure built up inside of him escaped through his eyes, pouring itself into the dirt beside the grave for a boy whose name he would never know.

There was one weight that kept Harry from crawling away, one tight pressure on his hand that squeezed and seemed to tell him he wasn't alone, he wasn't beneath the ground. He wasn't at peace, he was in pain.

Quite possibly, it was the worst pain he had ever felt because it would always be there, a dark shadow of why that he couldn't answer, couldn't tell the boy.

They made it back to the car, Harry didn't know how. He didn't blink, couldn't blink while everything was still blurred and his shirt was wet and there was blood somewhere on his face, mixing until it touched his lips and tasted like salt and blood. Steve must have done most of the work getting to the car because Harry's legs were weak and he was still breathing harshly, every inhale felt like a struggle.

"Here." Steve was blurry, hard to understand, and he opened Harry's door and sort of pushed him toward the seat. The lights inside the car weren't glowing, they were bright. Harry leaned his head back on his seat and closed his eyes, squeezed them shut so they would stop streaming.

Would Siri feel it? The crack in Harry's chest that he didn't mean to let happen? He couldn't let her, didn't want her to. If Harry couldn't bear it, Siri never could.

Harry tried to seal the crack up, push it all back down. He focused on breathing while the car started moving - in and out. In and out. The problem, the only problem, was that it was quiet. All Harry could picture was the boy with the blonde hair, the freckles on his face, the bruises that marred his body.

Harry left him in a hole with nothing more than a glowing light.

"Can you say something?" Harry asked aloud, needing the noise to take away everything else crawling in his brain. "Please?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, um… I - shit."

Harry should have been more specific. The string of swears that Steve let out weren't exactly what he meant, though even his very mild amusement about them eased some of the pain in his chest.

"I think I'm gay, right? Which is crazy, except now I'm thinking, who cares? Who cares if - if I think a guy - guys - can be pretty? That kid died, no - he was killed. That kid was killed and I'm worried about some jerks calling me a faggot when he never even got to have his first kiss? Two guys that didn't know him were the ones to bury him and I'm like freaking out about being gay? It's so stupid."

It… it was stupid, actually. It was stupid enough that Harry felt his breathing leveling out, felt the crack sealing up until he could wipe his face on his arm so he could see again.

Steve was pale, sweating again, while he drove with his muddy fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel. Steve's face was muddy too, his entire body was. When Harry looked at himself, he saw that he was just as bad.

Maybe it wasn't stupid, not to Steve. Harry thought it was though, but he shouldn't say that.

Though Harry wasn't sure he understood the problem in the first place.

"Are - are guys not meant to be pretty?" Harry asked, causing Steve to jump as if he forgot Harry was sitting just beside him. It didn't make sense though, someone not being pretty because they weren't a girl.

"You're pretty," Harry pointed out. "Your - your hair, it's pretty."

And his eyes. When Steve looked at Harry and Harry saw the gold again, the little glimmers of gold in the mixture of deep brown, that was pretty.

Steve blinked at him, blinked again, then turned back to watch the road.

"You think I'm pretty?" Steve asked, his voice shaking on the last word. Was there something wrong with that? Was Harry not meant to think that? Steve said he thought that guys were pretty, why couldn't Harry?

"Yeah." Harry watched the windshield too, watched as they drove down a dark road in a place that Harry didn't recognize. "I thought… I figured you knew."

It seemed obvious.

Harry still crossed his arms over his chest, rubbed his hands on them to warm himself up as much as he was trying to wipe away the dirt that scratched at him, the dirt that swallowed the boy up.

"You, uh… you left your sweater, with him," Steve said after the silence had just settled between them. "Do you want mine? You're probably freezing, I don't know why the heat isn't kicking on, I'm sorry."

Harry was cold, but it wasn't too cold. It was the cold from the body, the cold from the grave. It was clinging to him, freezing the scratches from the dirt.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Yeah, okay." Steve started moving around and the car swerved some, rightened itself back up when Steve was pushing a bundle of fabric toward Harry - his sweater. "In case you're lying about being fine," he said.

Harry didn't protest, he had been lying. He stared at the sweater and his brain was moving slowly, but he eventually started pulling it over his head. The sleeves were long, it wasn't Harry's size, but it smelled good. It smelled like the blanket from Steve's bed and that was good, that helped chase away the cold.

The quiet between them wasn't tense anymore, it was comfortable, comfortable enough that Harry leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes. Soon, he'd be home. Soon, the boy would be a memory. Soon, Harry would see him in his sleep.

Soon, Siri would be there to say everything was okay - not fine, okay.

"Hey, Harry?" Steve called to him quietly after a while, Harry didn't know how long.

"Hm?" Harry didn't want to be rude or weird, everything just started to feel cozy like a fire in the winter and Harry's body was melting in the feeling.

"You're - you know. I - uh - I think you're pretty too."

Harry didn't know he was smiling, it just happened.

Harry's house had a few lights on when Steve pulled in the driveway. Billy's car was still there, Hop's wasn't.

"Hold on, I'll make sure you get inside okay." That was all Steve said before he left his seat, crossed in front of the car, and then opened Harry's door.

Harry knew how to walk, but maybe Steve was being nice.

The curtain for the sitting room window shifted when Harry passed it and he hoped it was Siri, he hoped she would be inside and maybe would let Harry tell her about his day. Harry didn't tell her before, but he regretted it. He wished she had been there, though Steve had been almost as good.

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked Steve while he walked slowly up the stairs. His legs were still shaking, he took small steps. "Siri probably cooked, if not there's waffles in the freezer that can cook really fast. El likes them."

"Eggos? El likes Eggos?" Steve asked.

Harry shrugged, he didn't know what eggos were, but El loved the frozen waffles after they were cooked and covered in syrup. If Steve liked them, he could have some. Hop said he would leave money for groceries, even though Harry could get more on his own if Steve ate them all.

"Maybe," Harry said. "Or Siri cooked." Harry was hoping she did, even though she had a date, he didn't like the waffles as much.

Harry opened the door up, sniffing as he did. Yes, Siri did cook, Harry could smell something sort of spicy that was definitely not waffles.

Then someone yelled at him.

"Why the fuck are you covered in dirt?!"

Harry didn't know why he froze, didn't know why Billy - it was Billy being loud, of course - stormed toward him. Harry only had a second to not even blink before Billy passed him, Siri lunged for him, and then there was a thud.

Thud, shift. But the shift didn't happen.

"Harry?" Siri was there, her eyes wide, and Harry felt it then - a flutter of panic that wasn't his.

"The fuck did you do?!"

Harry shook his head at Siri, felt his words clog in his throat. She was staring at him like he was the ghost he had pretended to be before, someone she didn't recognize. So Harry looked away from her, saw that Billy had Steve against the side of the house by the front of his shirt.

"Oi!" The words got unclogged and Harry didn't mean to yell, didn't mean to shove Billy. Not that it made a difference - he was heavy. "Put him down!" Harry yelled. Steve didn't do anything wrong, he didn't do anything wrong. Everything they did that night was right. Even if it hurt, it had been the right thing to do.

"He didn't do anything!" Harry yelled, yelled like Harry didn't do. Harry was hot though, hot beneath Steve's sweater from his heart that was going to stop beating soon if it didn't slow down. Steve wasn't tracking dirt in the house because he was rude, he didn't even want to be dirty probably. "We were burying a body!"

Harry would make Billy let Steve go if he didn't drop him then and there. Harry had more to say - about how Steve had cared about the boy, cared about his death when nobody else did. Except Siri grabbed Harry's hand and blocked his view of Billy or Steve with her very, very, pale face.

Her pale face and her… bruised neck…

Who hurt her?! Harry never felt her pain, had no idea. Why didn't Billy do something?! Why didn't he keep her safe?! Harry trusted him!

"Harry…" Siri looked shocked, almost so shocked that Harry wanted to laugh. She shouldn't be shocked, she was bruised. "Bubby… what the fuck did you just say?"

There were a set of lights that washed over all of them - over Harry and the dirt covering his body and Steve's sweater. Over Steve's face and the cut on his cheek from a stray branch, the leaf in his hair. Over Billy who went suddenly still, as momentarily frozen as Harry had been before.

"We were burying a body," Harry repeated, slowly so Siri understood him.

Siri somehow became more pale, more wide-eyed. There was a snort, a quiet one, that Harry thought came from Steve. Nobody seemed to know what to say, what to do.

El did. El walked out to join them on the porch while a car - Hop's car, Harry recognized it - parked behind Steve and Billy's cars in the driveway. El looked at Harry, looked at Siri, looked at the boys.

"The fuck?" she asked.

"Great, now she's cursing," Siri sighed. She tilted her head up and Harry looked past her, let his eyes catch on Steve for a moment, before looking past him toward Hop's car.

"You said it first," Harry murmured, watching while Hop's car door opened too slowly. Something wasn't right, Harry thought it even before Hop unfolded himself from his seat and started walking around the front of his car. He was moving too slowly, he wasn't saying anything.

Harry shoved Billy out of his way when Hop stumbled and his hand slid down the hood, falling on the ground when he fell.

Someone screamed, it wasn't Harry.

Chapter Text

The kids were all asleep, each one on a bed of their own finally.

El laid on the top bed, her head poked out from beneath while she slept peacefully. Sirianna was on the bottom bunk, stretched out like a damn starfish, her long hair a tangled mess beneath her head. Harry had the trundle and he was curled up tight, a blanket loose on top of him - probably his sister's doing if Jim had to guess.

There were three neat stacks of clothes folded and laid out on the dresser, an outfit and pair of shoes for each of ‘em. Jim could tell whose was whose just by looking - Sirianna would be the one with the cosmetic bag laid on top, Harry had the green sneakers, El had the little purple shoes with the flowers on the sides.

They were just the right size for an eleven year old girl, Jim's best guess on El's age. He looked at those shoes for too long, let himself think about the daughter that wasn't there to wear them.

Jim wondered what Sarah would think about the kids living in Jim's house, wondered if she would have taken El in and told Jim he had two sets of twins. She would have, Sarah inherited all of Diane's friendliness and none of Jim's ‘hermit habits'.

God, she had always wanted a sister. Jim didn't want more kids before she got sick, couldn't imagine having them when she was gone.

It started with a nosebleed, a fucking nosebleed.

Jim had been out in the backyard with Sarah, kicking a soccer ball back and forth. She wanted to play when she started kindergarten in the fall and was after Jim every day to play with her. Jim didn't mind, he liked watching his little girl run after the ball with her pigtails flying and giggles spilling.

Then she kicked the ball to Jim and her nose started bleeding. It started slow, then was a steady pour in the minute it took Jim to carry her inside. Jim knew it wouldn't stop with normal pressure, it was the third one she had that month and Jim's gut said he should have taken her to the hospital the first time.

"Diane!" Jim wrapped Sarah up in one of his soft jackets, snuggled her in his arms. Diana popped in from where she had been baking in the kitchen and she dropped the egg in her hand as soon as she saw Sarah. "Let's go get Sarah checked out," Jim said.

Diane was ready in an instant, already comforting Sarah with whispered words of reassurance and love. Jim glanced at the yolk on the floor, figured they'd be home before it had a chance to dry.

Sarah wanted a sister and Jim never gave her one, not until she was gone and would never get to meet the kids he took in.

Jim was always a step too late - he didn't catch the killer until someone was dead, didn't help a victim until after their life was changed, didn't give his daughter something like siblings until she was gone.

It couldn't be like that for Will Byers, Jim wouldn't let it.

Jim left some cash and a note for the kids to buy what they needed from the store. He left a little extra, just in case. They knew he wouldn't be home until late, Jim was hoping he'd made it back period.

Hawkins was still dark, everyone was still in their beds asleep. The town was dark, the sun wouldn't be up for several hours. Jim didn't speed, but he didn't fuck around either on the drive to his first stop.

Joyce might be asleep, Jim doubted it.

Jim cut his headlights before he pulled in Joyce's driveway, not before he saw Joyce huddled up on her porch, having a cigarette. Jim grabbed one for himself before he got out of the cruiser. Joyce started toward him before he could even light it and he cut her off before she could ask.

"No news," he said. He met Joyce halfway and pulled the envelope he prepared from his inner jacket pocket. "I need you to hold on to this, give me forty-eight hours before you open it."

"What?" Joyce took the envelope and immediately tried to open it. Jim grabbed her hand, shook his head.

"Look, I'm going after Will, alright?" He should have known he wasn't going to leave without some explanation. "If I'm not back in two days, I want you to take that to the bank and cash it."

"Cash it?" Joyce ripped open the envelope the second Jim let go of her hand and he puffed irritably on his cigarette. Damned stubborn woman. "Jesus Christ, Hop! What the fuck is this?"

Jim's entire savings, every cent he never touched that had been steadily gaining interest over the years. If Jim didn't make it back, he wouldn't let it become a shit show like Benny's assets had become. Jim didn't have a wife, had no legal children.

What Jim had were three kids that were going to be displaced and homeless if he didn't make it back to them. What Jim had was one friend he could trust, one good woman who would watch out for them.

"I know I'm asking a lot, but I don't have anyone else to ask," Jim said. He grabbed Joyce's hand to make her look at him when she was still ogling the check he made out to her. "Joyce, you get me? I'm going to get Will and if I don't make it back, those kids are going to need someone."

"Hop…" Joyce wasn't a crier, Jim appreciated it. She stared up at him and there was a lot of shit in her eyes, no tears though. "Let me go with you," she said. "Don't go alone."

Then who would they have?

Jim didn't know exactly what he was facing, didn't think he'd get a clear answer even if he interrogated each of the kids until he was blue in the face. Jim heard monsters and he heard wizards in white; Jim planned to find out how they liked six rounds in the chest.

"You stay here, I'll be back," Jim said. He squeezed Joyce's hand, let it go. "If I'm not back, take that check to the bank Monday. Go buy Audrey's old place by the lake, and for God's sake, make Harry have his own room."

"Damn it, Hop." Joyce reached out and hugged Jim around the waist before he had a chance to dodge her. She kept it brief, but then sighed at him all tearfully.

"Do those kids know how lucky they are?" she asked.

Jim doubted it, doubted anyone knew they were lucky until it turned on them.

"Daddy, please." Sarah was curled up in Jim's arms and he rocked her uselessly, hating how fucking useless he was.

Jim could secure her home, he could keep their city safe from ‘bad guys', but leukemia? Jim couldn't fight cancer, he couldn't arrest it. All Jim could do was hold his baby while she cried from another round of chemotherapy.

Sarah was so weak, constantly nauseated. She had lost weight so quickly, her summer tan just as quickly. And even as Jim tried to comfort her, stands of her beautiful hair fell off in his hands.

"I wanna go home," Sarah said, her sobs only making everything worse for her. "Daddy, please, can we go home?"

"Soon," Jim said, praying that he wasn't lying. "We'll go home soon, Princess. You're being so strong, I'm so proud of you."

When Sarah got to go home, Jim was going to get her everything he told her no about before. She could have a puppy, he would repaint her room, Jim would make the time to build her the playhouse she wanted so badly.

God, as long as she went home, Jim would do anything she wanted.

Jim parked his cruiser in the woods, grabbed his bag from the back and loaded it on his back. He had his service weapon on his hip, his personal one strapped across his chest, and a couple extra in his bag with most of his knives.

It wasn't a far walk to Hawkins Lab, Jim had it all plotted carefully out. In eight minutes, the west gate would be unsupervised for roughly thirty seconds.

Jim had fifteen seconds to scale the fence, another fifteen to cross the lawn to the building. That didn't give him a hell of a lot of time and he'd have to play the rest of it by ear.

When he was facing a government building full of wizards without rules and unknown monsters, there was only so much planning he could do.

Fucking wizards and monsters… when did Jim's life become the fucked up side of a fairytale?

The woods were dark, Jim didn't bother with a flashlight that would give him away. The most he had was the cherry on his cigarette, a little orange beacon of light.

It could be worse, Vietnam hadn't been easy to travel through when Jim had been a soldier. He had guys then that followed his lead, any one of them were ready to protect the others with their lives.

What Jim wouldn't do for a fucking battalion backing him then…

Jim had the first part of his operation timed out just right. He could see the fence when shift change began and he started scaling it right at the time. Fifteen seconds, that was all he had given himself to scale a ten foot fence with barbed wire up top.

Fifteen… fourteen…

Jim counted while he climbed, counted when his feet touched the ground. Jim didn't pause, didn't look to see if he'd been spotted. He shifted his rifle in his bloodied hands and ran toward the building.

Fifteen… fourteen…

He was a second over, didn't pause, didn't hesitate. Jim rounded the building to find the door he wanted and put his weight into kicking it open when the knob didn't turn.

The doorway splintered, an alarm sounded, and Jim was in.

"Take my fucking marrow!" Jim yelled, slamming his fist on the desk and knocking a framed photo down. Diane put her hand on Jim's shoulder, just as pissed as he was but too polite to start breaking shit.

Jim didn't care- he didn't give a fuck.

The doctor said that Sarah had relapsed and her leukemia was becoming too aggressive to treat with chemo. Too much chemo could kill her, none would kill her.

And some jack-assed doctor wanted to sit across from Jim and say that Sarah's best chance at survival was a bone marrow transplant, one they needed a match for.

Sarah could have all the marrow in Jim's body. His lungs? Take ‘em. His heart? He wouldn't need it if Sarah didn't get better.

They had been in and out of the hospital for a year, a year of Sarah sobbing over the needle sticks and treatments, a year of Diane fighting her ass of to get their daughter everything her heart desired.

A year of Jim watching his baby get sicker and sicker. A year of fucking torment.

"We tested you both," Doctor Dumbass said, as if Jim fucking forgot about the samples he and Diane gave to be tested. One of them had to be a match, they were both fifty percent of Sarah's generic makeup, the odds were in favor of them matching.

"Diane was not a match, and Jim, I'm so sorry, you're unable to donate blood marrow."

"What?" Diane's hand tightened, a silent warning for Jim to hold his temper. "Is he a match?"

The doctor didn't say Jim wasn't a match, he said was ‘unable' to donate. Jim would rip his fucking marrow out himself if he had to, he would donate it.

"He is, but Jim donating would make Sarah sicker…"

"Oh, God." Diane let out a sob and her hand became her arm while she tried to pull Jim toward her, pulling him away from the news that they couldn't just run from. "Does he - Jim has it too?"

Jim didn't know what it meant that he didn't care if he did, he didn't care except for how it was going to affect Sarah and his ability to help her get better. Jim would give up fifty years of his life if it meant she could be healthy again.

"Jim, you do not have leukemia… you have a genetic anomaly, Li-Fraumeni Syndrome."

"Is that… cancer?" Diane asked, the new dirtiest word either of them knew.

"It is not," the doctor said slowly. He pushed his glasses up, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It is a mutation of the TP53 gene, commonly known as the tumor suppressor gene."

Jim's ears started ringing and he itched to light a cigarette, something to ease the tightness slowly strangling him from the inside.

The tumor suppressor gene. Jim's gene that suppressed tumors was mutated. A gene, a genetic marker, inside of him that suppressed tumors was damaged inside of him.

"Did I do this?" Jim asked, his voice as choked as his chest felt. "Did I - fuck, is this my fault? Did I make her sick?"

The doctor didn't answer him, Diane did when she pulled her arm away.

Jim ran, looked in every well lit nook and cranny as he did. The hallways were white, sterile, worse than any hospital. It felt unnatural, it told Jim they were hiding something inside that building and he needed to run until he found it.

Every room he cleared was another copy of the one before it. A storage room, library, a room full of large black cauldrons that bubbled with something inside of them. Jim was going to clear that whole building one floor at a time, but he sensed his time was running short.

He already shot one man with a wooden stick in his hand - a knee shot to take him down instead of killing him. It was the only mercy and warning Jim would give, they had their magic, he had Smith & Wesson.

At the next junction, Jim spun around and tried to make a decision. When in doubt, go left. There was a sign halfway down the hallway on his right, one that marked the area off as restricted.

Jim ran toward it, the thud of his boots focusing his mind and keeping him sharp while a siren wailed from the walls and shouts about an intruder could be heard.

"Come on," he whispered to himself, checking each room he passed. One room made him slide to a halt, one room with windows for a wall and a single mattress on the floor.

It looked… it looked a hell of a lot like some horrifying mixture of a room in an asylum and a jail cell. Jim might not have thought twice about it, might not have noticed the little faded elephant stuffed animal on the bed, not noticed the Dr Seuss book peeking out from beneath the pillow… if he didn't know exactly for who that room was made for.

If Jim didn't know that a little girl spent as much of her life as she could remember in that room, he might not have thought twice.

Jim didn't need to be screwing around, he had to find Will, but he could take eight seconds to take that stuffed animal and book for the little girl who might be missing them.

"Daddy?" Sarah laid on her bed and didn't even have the energy to lift her head. Jim's baby girl, the prettiest and most energetic five year-old he knew, had become pale, weak, too tired to cry anymore.

They had to stop treatments, it was doing nothing but causing Sarah pain. Jim couldn't accept it, didn't know how to get through it, but they were calling it palliative care.

They called it end of life care.

After only seven years, Sarah was at the end of her life.

"Hey, Princess." Jim forced a smile for his girl, his whole world, and tiptoed past her mom sleeping in a chair to climb on Sarah's bed. The only tube she had hooked up to her was a nasal cannula for oxygen, a single IV for pain medicine.

"I missed you," Sarah said as she snuggled in Jim's lap, not much bigger than she had been before the leukemia, before the hospital, before Jim started sleeping at the police station.

"I missed you," Jim said. He pressed a kiss to her smooth head and settled her more comfortably against him. God, he missed her every second he was away.

What was he supposed to do when she was the one who left him?

"Daddy?" Sarah looked at Jim and he could see she was hazy, swimming in the fog of painkillers to keep her comfortable. "Will you read me a story?"

There was nothing Jim wouldn't do for her - nothing.

Jim looked over to her bedside table and picked one of Sarah's favorites, The Giving Tree.

It used to be a silly story for Sarah, something Jim saw as a childish way to talk about a parent's role in their child's life. It took everything he had to read it to her in her hospital bed that she would never leave.

"Cut down my trunk and make a boat, said the tree," Jim read. "Then you can sail away and be happy…"

"Daddy," Sarah started coughing, horrible spasms that crackled with the infections filling her body, "Daddy, when I sail away, will you ever be happy?"

Jim ducked his head, held his breath while he pressed his lips to her head. Why? Why his baby girl? Why Sarah?

"No, baby," Jim whispered, swallowing back his tears. If Sarah was going to be strong, Jim would be strong with her. Until the very end. "I won't be happy without you."

Jim had to close his eyes against the grief, the early grief. He felt a tear fall, felt it sneak past and slide down his face until it touched Sarah's head.

"I want you to be happy, Daddy. I can't be happy if you're not happy."

The last room at the end of the hall, the one that had fifty fucking warning signs on it, had to be it. It had to be because Jim had fucking wizards at his back and it would be a dead end for him if there wasn't a new dimension past the doorway.

A dimension where a little boy was trapped.

The door had to be twelve inches thick of pure steel, the handle wouldn't give way for any bullet. Jim would be more likely to have a stray ricochet back and kill him than he would have with it busting the door handle.

No, it required a different sort of —

"Hey!"

A hand grabbed at Jim, attached to a body that ran up on him silently. Jim raised his rifle, didn't hesitate, turned around and clocked the man in the face. Once, twice.

His eyes rolled back in his head and Jim was using that same method on the door before the man - the man in a black suit and a wooden stick in hand - could even hit the ground. It took more than two hits, but Jim busted the butt of his rifle on the door until it finally broke and fell down, leaving the door free to swing open.

The room he put his energy into breaking into was a control room of some sort. It was divided like an interrogation room, tables of computer monitors and stacks of books on one side and then a wall of glass to separate it from…

Something so fucking unholy that Jim's blood ran cold when he tried to take it in. It wasn't Jim that felt cold, it was whatever was beyond that glass, those creeping black shadows and endless darkness.

If that wasn't the fucking upside down dimension of magical monsters, then Jim didn't know what else would be.

There was a door that glowed around the edges, a bright gold that Jim didn't think he could open with any force in the world. If he couldn't open the door, he'd fucking go through it. Jim backed up a step, shifted his gun so the butt would break the glass before his body, he took one more breath of clean air - hoped to God it wouldn't be his last - and ran with his full might.

Jim expected to have to shatter the door, to barge in the upside down with a spray of broken glass and determination. Instead, Jim burst through with his entire body shoving him forward and when he just went through what felt like a cool mist of air, he landed hard on the ground.

And when he did, when Jim fucking rolled and immediately lost sight of the glass wall and the lab he left behind, the shadows began to cling to him, to pull him deeper within the darkness.

It didn't take Jim long to understand why Will Byers had told Joyce that he was at ‘Upside Down'. Once Jim picked himself up and soldiered onward, he saw that the woods he walked through were familiar, so was the cruiser parked just off the side of the road. It was darker, everything lit in a twilight sense of purple while howls and screeches of God only knew what filled the air.

Jim walked carefully, kept his eyes and ears peeled for anything unusual.

Anything more unusual than the everything he was encountering.

The air was thicker, colder. Jim should have been sweating after his trip to get there, but he was damn near shivering.

Jim peered in the cruiser and saw it was filled with mold and little bugs or something crawling around, in and out of the vents and radios. It better not look like that when he made it out… Jim looked around the woods and suppressed the childish urge to shiver… if he made it out.

Since Will Byers had been haunting his mom's place, Jim figured that would be a decent starting point. He planned to walk over there, check it out. Maybe the kid would know how to get the hell out of there once he had him.

The problem was, Jim didn't even make it out of the woods before one of the shadows he sensed following him swooped down to attack.

The feeling it must have caused hit Jim first, a hard wave of freezing grief that nearly buckled his knees. Jim gasped and reached out to grab the fence post he was passing when —

Jim, small and weak, cowering from his father while his ma hid herself in her room. Jim crying, apologizing, knowing he didn't do anything wrong.

Ferro, Jim's buddy he met in BCT and ended up on the same battalion with in Vietnam. He had a bullet slice clear through his neck, he choked on his blood while Jim never did understand what he wanted to tell him at the end.

Sarah, laying in her coffin with her arms folded over her chest, as pretty as a doll. She was surrounded by pink roses while the preacher talked about God taking only the most precious to return to his gardens.

There were gunfires and explosions in Jim's mind, the sound of a heart monitor when it flatlined. He didn't know where it all came from, but it got louder when the monsters attacked.

They were more smoke than solid, like giant black ghosts with robes that trailed behind them as they flew toward Jim. He raised his gun, doubted if a bullet would hurt them. If it gave him a single parting, just enough that Jim could book it…

Jim fired off two rounds, directly in front of where he stood. The bullets tore through the monsters like mist and Jim ran after them, gritting his teeth when the mist-monsters froze his skin. They didn't chase after him and the further Jim got, the more his mind cleared up from what seemed to be a replay of every horrible day he ever lived through.

If that was the kind of shit that Will Byers was trapped with then Jim hoped the worst day that kid had was a skinned knee or a fight with a friend.

They weren't the last monsters that Jim had rush him while he tried to make it to the Byers house. Just outside of town there was a giant fucking snake that slithered up to him with ten times the speed of a normal one and fangs the size of Jim's hand. That mother fucker could be shot and Jim left it full of lead.

Something little and blue with wings and an evil face bit Jim when he was a block from Joyce's. The fucker was fast, hard to shoot. Jim's arm started swelling up from the bite and he stared at it, wondering if he needed to suck some sort of venom from it.

When he started to get dizzy and nearly fell in Joyce's front ‘upside down' yard, he figured he might as well. Jim put his mouth to the bite and started sucking hard, pausing to spit whatever magic venom crap had his arm turning dark purple.

The heat that had been crawling up his arm lessened and Jim kept at it until the flames were gone and all he spat was blood.

There were a whole lot of people depending on him - three kids who didn't need another loss. If some fairy shit thought out was going to take him down, it would be wrong.

Jim would crawl in that fucking house if he had to.

Joyce's house, like everything else in the upside down Hawkins, was a freak show. Jim couldn't tell what it was that coated the walls and doors until he got closer, but it was spider webs. Thick, glistening, white ropes of what had to be some sort of webbing.

Jim didn't want to see the kind of spider that would leave webs like that; he didn't think he was going to get much of a choice.

Jim shifted his rifle so he could load a new clip then grabbed his hunting knife to start sawing at the webbing. It fell apart easily, like silk in his fingers, but it left a sticky residue that he tried to scrub off on his pants.

Combat zones were starting to sound like a better place to find Will Byers than the monster infested version of Hawkins he was in.

"Get in, get the kid, get the hell out," Jim muttered to himself when the last of the webbing covering the door fell to his feet. The door creaked open on its own, revealing a dark interior with only a faint sound to be made out.

It would be fucking amazing if it was Will making that sound, if Jim could find him cheerfully playing with his toys and all too knowledgeable about how to get the hell out of there. Except it only took Jim a minute inside to start hoping that Will Byers was nowhere near that damned house.

The house was dark, cold, nothing like Joyce's real place. There were twinkling lights under the webbing on the walls, only the red bulbs of Joyce's Christmas light shit we're blinking, adding a twisted bit of light to the place. Every step Jim took echoed and he raised his rifle when he stealthily moved toward the kitchen where the scraping came from.

Jim had his rifle up, his breathing was steady, and he walked in the room ready for anything. He scanned the kitchen quickly, noted the cabinets were ripped off, the webbing coated much of the walls. Thank fuck that there were no signs of —

The scraping that Jim heard wasn't scraping once it was closer - it was clicking.

Click. Click. Click.

The clicking increased in speed and tempo when the ceiling started to move and Jim couldn't raise his rifle fast enough.

Spiders. Fucking massive spiders the size of a Clydesdale started dropping from the ceiling, crawling down the walls, all hissing and clicking as they rushed toward Jim.

"Fuck!" Jim didn't stop to think, he just started shooting while he tried to back out of the house as quickly as he could. The spiders could be shot and Jim took one down, two down, three down - and more took their places. One lunged for him with viciously sharp fangs exposed and Jim shot it in the face and ended up splattered with an acidic smelling green goo.

When he stepped backward too quickly to get away from the massive body of the newly dead one, one of the fuckers must have gotten behind him to attack.

Jim barely had time to react - he felt something sharp, hard, huge, cutting into his side at the same time as another one went for his head. Jim shot the one in front of him, spun around and shoved the rifle through the dead black eyes of the one dripping Jim's blood down its face.

The room spun and Jim needed to get the fuck out of there. Will wasn't there, not alive if he was, and Jim wasn't going to last against the endless stream of spiders that became quicker and more furious with every one that died by Jim's gun.

Jim shot two more before he took a chance and ran. They chased him, somehow fitting through the kitchen doorway like they weren't too huge to even fit in the house. And Jim didn't need to get hung up on that detail, he was in a magical monster dimension so shit didn't need to make sense, but were there no fucking laws at all?

The front door was still open and when Jim burst through it, firing over his shoulder to keep the fuckers from following, the cold air was a relief as he sucked it in. His breathing was ragged and every step sent shockwaves of pain from his side. It didn't feel like the fire from the fairy thing, it was a creeping coldness moving through his body.

When he pressed his hand to his side, only daring to drop his rifle so he could swap to the service pistol he could aim one handed, Jim's hand came back covered in his blood.

Everything was spinning and Jim stopped a block from Joyce's house to puke in the road. He couldn't fight fucking magic, the next thing he encountered was going to kill him. Jim couldn't go back without the kid, didn't know how the fuck to leave even if he had the kid.

His mind turned hazy and Jim knew he was stumbling like a drunk, clutching his pistol like the lifeline it was.

Where to go? Where to look? If the kid wasn't home, would he be… at a friend's? Will Byers had friends, surely? Yeah, yeah, Jim remembered the friend… the one kid… what was his name?

"Daddy?"

Jim could barely see, everything was becoming gray and blurry, but he could hear just fine. He could hear. He heard her. He knew that voice, knew it.

Jim lifted his head and felt his heart seize up, the cold shock washing away the haze in his mind if only for a moment.

Sarah.

Sarah stood in front of Jim on the sidewalk, beneath the purple light that was as wrong as everything else. It was her - but it wasn't, couldn't be. Sarah didn't have her beautiful blonde hair when she died, she didn't have grey skin or maggots crawling through her empty eye sockets.

Sarah was lifting her arms, reaching for him, "Why did you do it, Daddy?" It was her voice, her soft and sweet voice cutting through Jim sharper than anything had yet. Jim couldn't move, couldn't think, he couldn't fucking breathe.

"Daddy…" Sarah stepped toward him with her arms up, reaching for Jim, for her dad. "Why did you kill me, Daddy?"

Jim didn't know what day it was, what month. He didn't give a fuck about the year either. Diane screamed, she cried, she grieved with her friends and her family. Jim sat in Sarah's room, sat by her grave, sat outside the school she never got to attend and he drank. Jim drank until the pain was gone, until he had just a little bit of time where everything wasn't crushing him inside.

Someone knocked one day and Jim ignored it, he didn't care who it was, it would be for Diane anyway. Jim knew Diane hated him when she walked past him, hated that Jim couldn't save their daughter - hated that Jim could have given her his marrow and instead probably gave her the cancer that took her.

It didn't matter that Jim would trade anything, everything, to have her back. Sarah was gone, gone, gone. She was gone and Jim would have followed her, he would have chased after his baby and left the world that was meaningless without her, but who would remember her? Who would know how much she hated to brush her teeth and loved to be poked on the nose? Who would carry the memories of her learning to ride a bike and making her first soccer goal if not Jim?

If Sarah was gone, her memories had to still exist.

"Jim." Diane's voice was sharp, the new tone she had for him. She was tired, she lost the same love Jim had, and it was tearing them apart. Jim didn't know why she stayed, wouldn't blame her if she left.

Jim looked up and saw that it wasn't one of Diane's friends or family members who knocked, it was two men in dress blues and solemn expressions.

"Sergeant Hopper?" The general stepped forward and offered Jim his hand. "General Riley. We'd like a minute of your time."

"It's not a good time," Jim said, the words rough and raspy. His eyes moved toward the photos on the walls, the ones he looked at every day of Sarah. General Riley's eyes followed and Jim could see pity filled them when he turned back to Jim.

"I understand, but that's what we're here to discuss." General Riley pulled himself tall, took a stack of papers from the lieutenant beside him. "I understand that you were diagnosed with Li-Fraumeni Syndrome."

"I… yeah." Jim didn't know why there was a General in his house or why he was mocking Jim's inability to help his daughter only two months after Jim had to bury her.

"Sergeant, on behalf of the United States Armed Forces, I am here to discuss that matter with you. We'll need you to sign a form before we say anything else, your wife as well."

The form was a nondisclosure, Jim had signed plenty of them during his time in the service. Jim signed only because of the dull sense of curiosity he felt, Diane signed hers quickly to try and end the conversation altogether.

Once they were signed, General Riley offered Jim a neatly stapled stack of papers.

"During your time in the war, it was recorded that you were one of the soldiers exposed to Agent Orange, the biochemical agent we deployed in Vietnam. Sergeant, I regret to inform you, you are the sixth soldier to have their TP53 gene mutated after exposure to this agent…"

General Riley said more - careful apologies in a monotone voice, an outline of everything the NDA Jim signed covered, and mention of a compensation check on its way to Jim's bank account as they spoke.

All Jim heard was that the herbicide he was told not to concern himself with had caused his genetic mutation, caused his daughter's death.

Diane heard the same thing that he did and left with her bags packed ten minutes after the General and Lieutenant did.

"You killed me, Daddy. Why?" Sarah's voice shook and Jim's body fought with his mind - his mind told him it wasn't Sarah, it wasn't real, his body wanted to hug his baby one more time.

"Princess, no." Jim - he didn't, fuck, he didn't mean to. And there she was, telling Jim exactly what he knew to be the truth. It was Jim's fault, Jim's syndrome that caused her cancer.

One of the maggots in Sarah's eyes fell to the ground and the quiet plop of it falling halted Jim's step. It wasn't real, that wasn't his daughter. Sarah was beautiful, even in her final days, that grey-skinned monster was just that, a monster.

And Jim had kids that he didn't kill, kids who still needed him, back home.

"I'm sorry." Jim swallowed the sob that almost broke free, pushed it down beneath his desire to live. "God, Sarah, I'm so fucking sorry."

The pain in his side was nothing, nothing at all, compared to the rip in Jim's chest when he turned away from his princess and started running.

Sarah ran too, chasing Jim with her accusations and her hurt —

"You killed me, Daddy! You killed me and now you're leaving me? Don't you love me anymore?"

Love her? Sarah was the only true love that Jim knew, she was his everything.

"Daddy! DADDY!" Sarah became shrill when Jim ran into the woods, running from the guilt and the grief. "DON'T LEAVE ME, DADDY! PLEASE, I LOVE YOU!"

Jim spun on the spot, couldn't keep running when he heard her voice break in pain. Jim could die, would die, if it spared her even a second of pain. His turn knocked him off balance, the trees tilted in a blur as Jim went down in slow motion. Sarah was there, her hair in pigtails and her soccer socks up to her knee, Jim lifted his hand for her - to hold her hand one more time.

When his hand fell, it fell on a spark of golden light. Jim's hand was caught in a vortex - a new web of warm golden light - and he cried out for his daughter while his entire body was swallowed by the light.

"Sarah…"

Her name was still on Jim's lips when he was knocked down again, on the ground in the forest that was familiar, warm compared to what he just left.

Sarah was gone though, she was gone and Jim curled in on himself while he screamed over the bitterness of it all - he didn't save Will, couldn't save Sarah.

The scream echoed in the woods, ending when Jim's chest heaved and he felt himself drifting further away with each pump of his blood that soaked him. Jim rolled on his uninjured side, blinked until his vision cleared and the sight of the normal night sky made him think.

If he laid there, if he didn't get up, he was going to die. Some part of him thought he wouldn't mind that, wouldn't mind going off to some supposed garden in the sky where he might see his girl. It wouldn't be Jim's hand that did it, wouldn't be a sin held against him by the same judgemental bastard that decided seven years was long enough for Sarah.

Another part of his mind thought of a different girl, one with green eyes and screams that Jim could still hear in his sleep some nights. That girl had been through hell, was Jim going to add to it? Was he going to lay there without a fight knowing somehow that she would be the one to find him?

With the last of his energy, Jim struggled up to his feet and fought through the swimming vision that nearly knocked him back down. If he was in the woods, in the Hawkins side of the world, then his cruiser would be nearby, he just had to find it.

It took what felt like a lifetime, a lifetime of staggering through branches that scraped him and roots that tripped him, but he found it. The cruiser was clean, mold free, no bugs in the cabin. Blood smeared the door handle, smeared the steering wheel when he grabbed it, smeared the lighter he fumbled with to light the cigarette he needed.

The drive back to his house was a blur, Jim didn't know if he even managed to stay on the road for most of it. He thought he might have had the wrong place when there were cars parked there, cars that didn't belong to Jim and he couldn't immediately recognize.

His vision began to go black and Jim just needed to get inside, get in the house. Somehow, if he got inside, he'd be fine.

Jim made it two steps out of his cruiser, two steps toward what he hoped was his house, when the blackness creeping up on him won and took him down.

The last thing he heard that time wasn't Sarah, wasn't the monster pretending to be his little girl, it was a boy - the boy that Jim couldn't die on —

"Hop!"

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