37. Hysteria

[A/N: What's this? Another chapter in less than a week?! Booya! XD I'm so excited we're approaching the climax! ISH GOIN' DOWN!

Please review :)]

Chapter 37: Hysteria (Def Leppard)

"Out of touch, out of reach, you could try to get closer to me. I'm in luck, I'm in deep…"

. . . . . . . .

Two Days Ago - Monday Afternoon

Nancy waited by the main office, her heart thumping in her chest as hundreds of other students swarmed past her, eager to make it to the bus or just get out of the building and go home. This was finally happening. It was actually happening. Not in the heat of the moment or through her ghosting herself. She was really about to break up with Steve and while she knew it was the right thing to do, she was also terrified. She didn't want to hurt him but she knew that that was going to happen regardless of how much she wished it away. She wondered briefly if they'd still be friends, then scoffed at herself for it. He was probably going to hate her, especially if she started dating Jonathan right away. Maybe she'd become a social outcast and Steve and his friends would spread awful rumors about her.

She couldn't think like that. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She was being honest with herself and with Steve. Maybe he wouldn't be angry or vengeful like that time he and his other friends spray painted the movie theatre. Maybe he'd just be upset. The image of Steve breaking down in front of her alarmed her and she wondered if she'd be able to handle that alternative. No, Steve wasn't a fall-apart-at-the-seams type of person. Right? They'd only been dating for a few months but she thought she had a pretty good understanding of him at that point. Then again, she'd known Jonathan for years and didn't really get him until now so…

And people change. She certainly had. Experiences change people and their priorities and opinions shift. If anyone could attest to that, it would be her. She was certainly not the same person she'd been at the beginning of the school year and they were barely into third quarter.

Another thought worried her, though. What if she went through with this, breaking up with Steve, and then her and Jonathan didn't work out? Or maybe they realized they weren't actually on the same page? Then she'd really be completely alone…

She could spot Steve's voluminous hair from the other end of the hallway and when he saw her waiting by the office door, he smiled. Nancy felt her muscles tense as Steve approached and she winced when he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek. This was not going to be easy but it had to be done. Caring about someone and being a good person isn't enough of a reason to be in a relationship with someone that you just don't click with anymore. That became painfully obvious the moment Jonathan had kissed her in the car.

"Hey," Steve said and Nancy forced herself to give a small smile.

"Hey," She said softly, looking around as the crowds surrounding them gradually began to dwindle. "Maybe we can go somewhere quiet to chat?"

Steve's face gave it away. He was worried but he didn't press on it. "Okay," He said simply, leading her outside and around to a less-traveled side of the building. There were a few people passing by as they walked home but they were out of earshot and the bike rack on this side only had one bike latched to it.

"So…" Steve breathed. "What's up?"

Nancy inhaled deeply, exhaling through her nose in a quiet sigh. Waves of long brown hair fell in front of her face as her gaze fell to the ground, her hesitation telling him more than her words.

"You're still pissed about the dance," Steve surmised and Nancy looked up.

"No, it-it's not that…" She shook her head. "Well, it kind of is but… but not really,"

"Then what?" Steve asked, approaching her with his hand outstretched to touch her but the way she backed away caused a sharp sting to his chest. "Nance… come on…"

"I just…" Nancy started, words buzzing around in her head that somehow just weren't making it to her mouth. "I just… Steve, I-I think we're over,"

His face blanched and his eyes widened. "What do you mean you think we're over?"

"I mean, we... " She trailed off, trying to find the right way to say it but nothing seemed right. "Things just aren't the same, Steve,"

"Well, yeah, I know that but that's okay! We've been dealing with it," He said, desperate to change her mind, to reverse the course of this conversation. "Look, I know I've been an ass and I know you've been going through a lot. I should've been more understanding but Nancy… that doesn't mean -"

"It does," Nancy interrupted. "I'm sorry. Look, I… I really appreciate you being there and… trying, after everything that happened. But we can't go back and things are different now,"

"But Nance, nothing's different!" Steve countered, almost pleading. "And I mean, even-even if it is, it can get better. Things can go back to normal,"

Nancy shook her head. The way he was looking at her was pulling at her heart and making her want to back out of this whole conversation. He looked frightened, worried, desperate… She felt her eyes watering and blinked her tears away.

"They will never go back to normal," Nancy said quietly, hanging her head with her arms crossed over her chest. "This is the new normal,"

. . . . . . . .

Present Day - Wednesday evening

Jonathan had worked all afternoon, watching as the sky became darker and darker, ominous clouds rolling in and threatening a complete downpour. The weatherman had been talking about a series of thunderstorms that would be rolling through a large stretch of Indiana for the majority of the week and it was looking like they were about to hit Hawkins. Barren tree branches and discarded trash fluttered around outside, dancing along the road and the sidewalk as the wind picked it up and tossed it about.

After counting his drawer and cleaning up, Jonathan was ready to head home in the hopes of getting there before the rain actually started. With his boss in the back finishing up the closing procedures, Jonathan tossed his backpack over one shoulder and his camera bag over the other before heading outside. He had just finished locking the glass door when a voice behind him surprised him.

"Hey,"

Jonathan spun around to see Nancy standing on the sidewalk, her brown locks waving wildly in the wind.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, almost muttering as he turned back to the door, pulling his key out and reluctantly turning to face her. "Shouldn't you be on a date or something with Steve?"

He didn't give her the chance to respond before stepping off the curb and walking over to the driver's side door of his car.

"No, I -" Nancy said emphatically, following him. "I… wanted to talk to you. I've been trying to catch you since Monday, actually. Your mom said you'd be here,"

Thunder clapped above them and the sky began to spit. "I've gotta get home," Jonathan mumbled, yanking open his door and reaching around to unlock the backseat.

"Jonathan -"

"Look," He said, tossing his bags into the back and closing the door. "I get it. I screwed up and I…" He groaned in embarrassment. "Just forget it, okay?"

Suddenly, the sky seemed to open up and rain began to fall hard and fast, pelting the roof of the car and drenching them in seconds. Without a word, Jonathan jumped in the car as Nancy shrieked from the other side, "Open the door! Open the door!"

Jonathan leaned over the passenger seat to unlock the door and Nancy frantically scrambled inside, shivering as she slammed it shut and raindrops dripped down the side of her face.

Jonathan sat quietly, his hands on the steering wheel as water dripped from his bangs. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation. He wasn't ready for it. But he couldn't leave her out there in the rain and now he was trapped.

He could see Nancy shivering, her jacket partially soaked and her hair completely saturated. "There's a uh," He said, reaching around to the back and stretching to get to a throw blanket on the floor. "This," He straightened himself back out, ignoring how much closer he had been to her for those few seconds, as he pulled the dark brown blanket up to the front seat. "Here," He offered it to her and she quickly shrugged off her jacket, wrapping herself in the dry, soft blanket. As her shivering ceased, she looked back over at the boy beside her. He was adamantly avoiding her gaze - looking at the steering wheel, out the window. Anywhere but at her.

"I haven't seen you around much lately," She said quietly, the rain outside roaring and pounding against the windows as the thunder continued to roll. They couldn't even see out of the windows anymore; the downpour had turned their view into a misty grey fog.

"Yeah, I've been busy, um," He replied, pursing his lips. "You know, with mom and Will, school, and work…" He neglected to mention that he'd specifically picked up extra shifts to avoid her. To keep his mind off of the sting of rejection.

"Yeah," Nancy said, her stomach a bundle of nerves though she couldn't understand why. This should be the easy part but the excitement and anticipation, the nerve-wracking anxiety of not knowing what could happen… it was all swirling around inside her like a whirlwind more intense than the storm outside. "I broke up with Steve,"

This got Jonathan's attention and he turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised. "You did?"

Nancy pursed her lips, nodding.

"But he and Dave were just in the store earlier," Jonathan said, trying to make sense of what she was telling him. "Dave was talking about some date you and Steve had," He did his best to keep from sneering and purposefully left out the part about Dave tossing condoms on the counter.

"Dave's a neanderthal," Nancy said with disdain. "I talked to Steve after school," She shrugged. "It's over… it's been over for a while now, I think…"

"Oh," Jonathan said, unsure what to make of this as his heart began to pound in his chest. His nerves danced up and down his arms and every time he looked at her he felt that familiar burning in his chest. That magnetic pull that sometimes made him act outside of his better judgment.

"Yeah…" Nancy said, pulling the blanket up farther around her shoulders and turning a little more in her seat to face him. "I um... " She looked down at her lap, pushing herself to tell him but as the words bubbled up inside her, the heat to her cheeks intensified. "I guess there were just some things going on that I couldn't ignore anymore,"

Jonathan didn't notice that his mouth was slightly agape, hanging on her every word. "O-Oh," He said, his voice cracking in a way it hadn't since he'd first entered puberty. "Yeah," He said in his normal tone, nodding dumbly. This couldn't actually be happening. The last thing he wanted was to misread a signal and humiliate himself all over again.

"You know," Nancy said, still looking down. "It's kind of funny that we're in your car again. This is the same spot we were sitting in last time…" She let herself trail off, looking up at him and hoping he understood what she was alluding to.

The expectant, hopeful look in her eyes ignited the burning in Jonathan's chest into a full blaze. She was talking about their kiss. She wasn't with Steve anymore. All of the signs were pointing to one thing and the billowing cloud of doubt in his mind was becoming quieter with every passing moment. "Yeah," He nodded, still holding back until a brief rush of boldness filled his veins with adrenaline. "There's something about you -" He cut himself off, his doubt resurfacing and keeping him from taking one step too far.

"What about me?" Nancy pressed, leaning only slightly closer but he noticed.

"Um," He cleared his throat, spurred on by her prodding. "Sitting there… with the rain and…" He trailed off but the way she was looking at him kept him going. He couldn't just leave it there, not with the way she was silently pressing him to say the words that danced on the tip of his tongue. "I could kiss you," He murmured, almost inaudible but their proximity made it impossible for her not to hear. Jonathan could feel his heartbeat in his ears, the pounding in his chest almost unbearable as he waited in agony for her to say something.

"Why don't you?" Nancy asked quietly and it only took a beat for Jonathan to register what she'd just said.

Quickly closing the gap between them, he leaned into her, his lips crashing against hers as she greedily accepted. Her blanket fell to her waist as she wrapped her arms around him, her fingers snaking through his shaggy brown hair as the warmth of his lips helped her forget the chill of the rain outside.

. . . . . . . .

Flashback

He'd driven back to Hawkins in silence. The hometown he hadn't expected to see again waiting for him, almost untouched even after living in the city for more than a decade. The streets were quiet as he pulled into the parking lot of a local bar, boxes and bags of clothes piled high in the backseat of his Cadillac.

After Sarah's death, he and Diane fell apart at the seams. And he'd just simply fallen apart. It hadn't been a surprise when she'd told him that it was over and she thought he should go. He was drinking too much, he wasn't emotionally available to her, he was missing time at work… all valid reasons to be unhappy but he knew there was more to it than that. She blamed him for their daughter's death. How could she not? He certainly did. If he hadn't pushed for the experimental treatments… maybe she could have been around longer. He sent his own daughter to the grave. He cut her life down to a fraction of what her remaining time could have been.

The divorce papers on the passenger seat of his car taunted him, reminding him that what he'd once thought of as stable could completely turn to dust in his hands. He had the perfect life: a loving wife, a beautiful daughter, a stable and fulfilling job, and financial security. All gone up in smoke.

Where else could he go? Diane had told him he didn't have to leave right away but he'd stoically packed his bags and walked out. He didn't want to do her any more harm than he already had.

He couldn't help but think about Hawkins Lab. He'd grown up in this small town, yet never heard about the lab much before he moved away. Granted, he'd been eighteen at the time and the only things he'd really cared about back then were girls, parties, and getting the hell out of this hole-in-the-wall town.

He'd met Diane in Indianapolis and his parents had moved down south to Georgia five years ago so what was he even coming home to? Familiarity? Perhaps that was it or perhaps it was an unconscious pull to the place he'd taken his daughter. Hawkins National Laboratory. Being close to this place was a perpetual reminder of his guilt, his mistakes and failures. In a way, it was almost like he was punishing himself.

So with a modest chunk of his family savings and a tip from a buddy on the force that the Hawkins Police Department was in desperate need of a new chief since the incumbent was getting ready to retire, Hopper had headed back to his hometown with his tail between his legs and the stench of beer on his breath.

It was going on 9 o'clock and the evening crowd was beginning to drift in as Hopper settled himself into a bar stool.

"What'll it be?" A bartender with a beer belly and receding hairline asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Hopper shook his head. "I'll take whatever you've got on tap, just keep 'em coming,"

"You got it, buddy," The man replied before returning with a frothy glass of beer. Hopper took a sip from the glass, the cold liquid chilling his throat as he sucked his top lip in to get the foam from the beer head off his mustache.

He had just lit a cigarette when he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Oh my god…Hopper?!"

He turned to see Joyce Mathers, now Joyce Byers, standing just a couple feet away from him. Her petite frame hadn't changed over the years and even sitting on a stool, the top of her head was below eye-level. She looked a bit more worse-for-wear than she'd been in high school but he'd recognize her anywhere.

"Hey Joyce," He replied politely, feigning as much enthusiasm as he could muster in his state.

"I'll be damned," Joyce breathed, crossing her arms and staring at him. "What are you doin' out here? Aren't you living in the city now?"

"Well, you know how it goes," Hopper retorted sarcastically, the rim of his glass hovering at his lips. "Places like this, you just can't stay away,"

"Pfft," Joyce scoffed, chuckling. "I'm sure. But really, god, Hop, it's been so long…" She said, pulling herself up into the seat beside him.

The bartender came over as Joyce got herself situated. "What can I get you ma'am?"

"Oh, uh, Michelob Light, please?" The brunette responded, digging through her purse for her cigarettes before turning her attention back to Hopper. "Seriously though, what brings you out here anyway?"

Hopper stalled, taking a sip of his beer to give himself a moment to formulate a response that wouldn't involve laying his complete emotional downward spiral out in front of her. "Heard Hawkins was in need of a new police chief," He said simply, as though transitioning from homicide detective in the city to police chief in this podunk town wasn't a downgrade.

"Wow," Joyce breathed, sticking a cigarette between her lips and fishing in her purse for a lighter. Her ability to sound even mildly impressed was a wonder to him. "Guess that means you're sticking around?"

"Guess so," Hopper said evenly, taking another sip. "So what about you? You and Lonnie still a thing? You've got a kid, don't you?"

"Two, actually," Joyce corrected, giving up on her search and hanging her purse up on one of the hooks under the bar. "You got a light?"

Hopper nodded, retrieving a lighter and lighting her cigarette for her as she continued. "Will's six, going into first grade in the fall and Jonathan's eleven," Hopper ignored the way hearing about Joyce's little boy made his heart drop. Her youngest son was Sarah's age… He fought away the demons in his head that picked and prodded at him, reminding him Sarah would never see the first grade or any other grade… or any milestone ever again.

"As for Lonnie," She went on, her facial expression and tone of voice notably changing to one of contempt. "We're actually in the middle of a divorce,"

Hopper's ear pricked up at that. What a coincidence…

Joyce shook her head, taking a long drag on her cigarette and slowly exhaling as she spoke. "We had court today and when I tell you my head feels like it's gonna explode…" She said with an emphatic exhale, tapping the ash off of her cigarette into the ashtray on the bar. "The kids have been with their grandmother all day and I'm on my way to pick them up,"

"Damn," Hopper said, expertly concealing his own dread at the thought of having to go through the divorce process himself. "Sorry to hear that,"

"Yeah," Joyce sighed. "You were completely right about Lonnie," She said, catching Hopper's interest. "Everything you said when we graduated. I was an idiot,"

"No, Joyce," Hopper countered. "He's the idiot. It takes a special kind of asshole to screw up a good thing,"

Joyce smiled, reminiscing. "You were always so protective of me back then,"

"Yeah, well," Hopper said gruffly, quietly wallowing in his own self-loathing. "It takes an ass to know an ass,"

"Ha!" Joyce chuckled, shaking her head. "Whatever you say, Hop,"

. . . . . . . .

Present Day - Earlier Wednesday Evening

Mike had gone home after school with the plan to talk to El. He'd found himself lucky enough that his mom wasn't making dinner yet and he had the kitchen phone all to himself, even if just for a short while. He felt his heart rate quickening as the phone rang and he waited anxiously for someone to pick up. When Becky's voicemail message came through the receiver, Mike visibly deflated with disappointment. He felt awkward leaving a message so he resolved to just hang up and try again later.

. . . . . . . .

Present Day - Wednesday Night

"How ya doin', kiddo?" Hopper greeted Will as he entered his hospital room. "Tomorrow's the big day,"

"Yeah, I'm ready," Will said definitively, putting aside the sketchbook and box of crayons his brother had brought for him. "What time are you picking me up tomorrow?"

"Mmm, I'd say around 9," Hopper replied, removing his hat and setting it down on the tray by Will's bed, next to his art supplies. "That's what your doctor said at least,"

"I can't wait to get out of here…" Will said as he exhaled, laying his head back against the pillows.

"Yeah, well," Hopper said with a tilt of his head. "Nobody likes hospitals,"

"That's for sure," Will agreed. He'd been cooped up in this room for a couple weeks now and while his friends had visited as much as they could, it wasn't the same as being home. He even missed school and just being around people. His incision was healing well and he'd need to take it easy but the doctors said he could have the rest of his recovery be in the comfort of home and that was a relief. No more hospital food, no more being a half hour away from everything and everyone he knew, no more long, boring days in-between visitors.

A garbled voice came from the radio on Hopper's belt, catching both his and Will's attention.

"What was that?" Will inquired curiously.

"My radio's probably catching talk from the local precinct," Hopper surmised, removing the radio from his belt. "I'm out of range for Hawkins so this thing grabs whatever frequency it can find," He was about to turn it off when the voice came in again, a little clearer this time.

"Female… mid-thirties… vehicle crash… green Ford Escort… Route 29, send a bus…"

Will watched as Hopper's eyes widened with concern as he clutched the radio in his hand. "What is it?"

"Stay here, I'll be back," Hopper said before ducking out of the room, leaving Will to sigh and sink back into his pillows.

"I don't really have any other options…" He mumbled, grabbing his sketchbook from the tray by his bed.

. . . . . . . .

Route 29 was a long two-lane expressway that cut through Clarksville and while it wasn't heavily used, especially at this time of night, it connected several neighborhoods to the main local businesses including gas stations, restaurants, grocery stores, and Clarksville's tiny mall. The road was relatively dark, sandwiched between two stretches of dense woods with streetlights sparsely scattered along the edges of the asphalt.

There was only one person Hopper knew in this area with that specific make, model, and color car and while he could tell himself that there was a possibility it wasn't her, something in his gut told him he needed to check it out anyway.

As Hopper made his way down the slick pavement, his windshield wipers going full speed, he could see lights from emergency vehicles about a mile down the expressway.

"C'mon old girl, don't let me down," Hopper patted the dash of his beat up old SUV as it struggled to keep from sliding in the heavy rain.

There were two police cars and an ambulance pulled up along the side of the road when Hopper arrived. He could see a dark green car down in the ditch with its entire front end demolished by the tree it was up against. Emergency personnel surrounded the vehicle but judging by the lack of urgency in their movements, Hopper could tell the situation was not good.

"Jim Hopper, Chief of Police down in Hawkins," He said as he approached the scene, flashing his badge. "I heard the call over the radio. What do we got?"

"Hey, thanks for the help, Chief, but looks like she's D.O.A.," One of the young police officers replied, speaking loudly to be heard over the rain. "We're waiting on the coroner now,"

"I see," Hopper said, his eyebrows furrowed. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Sure," The officer replied. "Looks like she was out on some kind of joyride. Not exactly what I'd expect for someone her age but…" He shrugged as he followed Hopper up to the car. As they came under the cover of the trees, the roar of the rain lessened. "Couldn't find an ID or license with her and judging by the smell, I'm thinkin' she's had a few if you know what I mean,"

"She didn't have a wallet in her purse?" Hopper turned to look at him suspiciously.

"No, sir," The officer replied. "Purse was just about empty, actually,"

"Hmm," Hopper hummed, frowning as he took a few steps closer and peered into the driver's side of the vehicle. Shattered glass covered the front seats of the car and despite the cover of the trees, some rain had made its way inside, leaving the dash wet. Hopper stared at the steering wheel as a spattering of blood mixed with raindrops and slid down the front of it.

"She was hung over the steering wheel when we got here," The officer behind Hopper explained. "One of the medics lifted her up and sat her like that to check her out before we realized she was gone," He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. "No seatbelt, either,"

Hopper exhaled sharply through his nose. "Well, I can save you the trouble of an I.D.," He said gruffly. "This is Rebecca Ives,"

. . . . . . . .

"Hypnotized, I'm shakin' to my knees. I gotta know tonight if you're alone tonight. Can't stop this feeling, can't stop this fight…"