16. Who Can It Be Now?

Well, no playlist for this one :(

I hope I managed to change it up and keep it interesting, even if it's canon territory now. As always, thank you for your kind reviews, especially to those who I couldn't respond to over PM's. It really means SO MUCH to me, you have no idea.

I'll have a new chapter ready for you tomorrow :)

Until then, let me know what you think, I'm dying to hear it. Also, read the final AN, I do have a bit of info but it would be a spoiler if I write it here, so…

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"Jonathan, don't chase after her," I urge him as he takes a sudden left turn, driving as fast as he can to catch up with Joyce. I don't even know if he knows where she's going. Hell, I don't even know if Joyce knows where she's going! She ran out of the morgue, refusing to sign papers, saying that is not her son and Jonathan, Hopper and I… I guess that we weren't surprised. Jonathan ran to his car, I followed him but I wasn't expecting him to go all race care while trying to find her! He is angry. "Jonathan, just… let her go. Please. Don't make this worse than it already is, I beg of you!"

"She can't act like that!" he snaps as he looks around; at least he slowed down. On the bright side, we probably won't crash the car. "Will is dead! She can't act like that, she needs to face it."

"And you need to calm down because if you scream at her, you'll only make it worse!" I yell. The only time I ever yelled at him before was when we had that massive showdown for Halloween. And this is a whole different showdown. He needs to calm down. He can't act like this if she's not stable.

"I won't scream at her," he reassures me but I do not buy it. "There she is! Roll down the window," he tells me. I sigh and despite knowing that this isn't going to end well, I listen to him. "Mom! Get in, please!" at least he's not rude. I stare blankly ahead. I want the car seat to swallow me whole because this is not a conversation I want to intrude on but yeah, that is not happening.

"No, I, I, I, I need to think. You two, just go on home."

"Mom, will you just get in please?" he begs her but she just shrugs it off and keeps on walking.

"Jonathan, don't," I try to stop him but he doesn't listen to me. He stops the car and runs after her and I just bang my head on the dashboard. He is not listening to the one thing I am trying to get through his thick skull. Joyce isn't doing well. And if he tries to shake her out of it, if he attacks her for it, it can only get worse. I'm not saying that he should feed her madness or go with it, but in my mind, it's kind of what they say about sleepwalking. If you force someone awake, it can be really bad for them. If you gently guide them back to bed, they're just gonna go back to sleep again. He can't shake common sense into her. Her son is dead, there's no space for common sense in her mind, not right now.

I can see they have a screaming match going on but thank god, I can't hear it. I can't interrupt that, I can't. I can only wait here and hope he didn't damage it beyond repair. I light a cigarette and look around, look everywhere but at the two of them. That's when I see them.

Lucas, Mike, Dustin and a girl, all four of them on bikes, with the girl riding behind Mike. The moment I see them, I remember that they have lost Will too. Those kids just lost their best friend.

I jump to the driver seat and I open the door, ready to call out for them, but they're already too far from me to yell after them. I'll have to talk to them at some point, all three of them. I don't know who the girl is, they never mentioned her, but if she was Will's friend too, I need to talk to her as well.

Adults don't get it. They expect you to deal with death like they do. I was younger than they were when my grandma died and I didn't know shit about it. If their folks are anything like my father is, I don't think they'll help them in a proper way. I can give it a shot. Not that long ago, I was in their shoes.

I don't say anything when Jonathan gets back into the car. I keep my mouth shut because not only do I not know what to say but also because I think he needs a little bit of silence. My suspicions are confirmed as he hits the steering wheel, once, twice, three times. I say nothing but I do grab my pack of cigarettes out of my jacket and I light one, before handing it to him. He takes it.

It's kind of like him and Joyce, me and him. He can't shake her awake and I can't shake him awake. He knows he shouldn't pressure her. I literally could not make it clearer to him. I'm the calmer one out of the two, just as he's the calmer of the two between him and Joyce. He doesn't need me to patronize him and I doubt it would actually do him any good if I do. I can only hope that this outburst of anger was just a vent. He needed to get it out of his system and now he can move on with it.

"Where do you want me to drive you?" he asks as he throws the cigarette out of the car window.

"School," I tell him, earning a confused look. "I'm not used to having a car around, even if it is temporary. I left it in the parking lot after school when I went with you. I'll drive it back to my house."

"Do you want me to pick you up or will you drive?"

"Pick me up," I nod my head. "I don't want to forget the car someplace else and we're going to be together anyways. You can pick me up in like… an hour, tops. If you don't have anything else to do, you can follow me there and wait inside."

"I'd rather not face your brother today," he mumbles. I can't blame him for that one. If I could, I'd prefer to avoid Steve too. He should be at school so I hope I'm lucky today. "Besides, I need to go to the graveyard and… set it up with them. Then I have to go to the funeral home and-"

"I'll go with you."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yeah I do," I disagree with him. "Don't question it, Jonathan. Just… go with it. I'm not leaving you to go through this shit alone, so you'd better get used to it."

He doesn't respond to that at all, he just starts the car. I need to give him space. He needs to maneuver his own way around it. Sure, I'll be right by his side but some things, he just needs to do on his own. One of them is to figure out how to face the loss of Will. Will was… the most important person in the world for him. His baby brother. Sadness and guilt will eat him and I will be here to make sure that they don't swallow him whole. If that means I will be faced with silence, I will take it. If that means we will never listen to music while we drive around, I'll take it.

I know that for better or worse usually goes for marriage but why wouldn't it go for a 7-day-old teenage relationship too? If push comes to shove, he's still my best friend.

"You don't have to get into the parking lot, you can leave me here," I tell him and he stops the car. For a moment, I think that that's it for now, but he leans over and kisses me. With all that's been going on, I forgot how kissing can actually be good. "In an hour. My place." He nods and I get out of the car.

I can't take it personally. I know it's not about me or us. He has right to be distant if that's what he wants to do. Coping with this isn't going to be easy and it's not going to be easy for me to watch it. At least he's not pushing me away completely. I know I should be glad about that one.

With a sigh, I make my way to the parking lot, just realizing how stupid this idea is; what if Steve took the car? He has the spare key. What if he went back for it when he realized that I just dumped it on the school parking lot? Maybe I don't need a car after all. At this point, I'm starting to think it's better to just split the gas money with Jonathan, especially since I keep forgetting my car around the fucking town.

Ah, but Steve isn't practical, nor is he particularly smart. The car was in the same spot where I parked it yesterday morning. I fish the keys out of my bag and jump inside, thinking how much I'm going to have to squeeze into one hour. I won't have time to make lunch for the asshole, but I've decided before that he can starve to death, haven't I?

I nearly crash into a light post when I notice three bicycles and four kids. Why the hell aren't they in class? I stop the car and honk, knowing that will get their attention. It does. Startled, they look around, Mike, Dustin, Lucas and the girl. It's Dustin that notices me first. He smiles and waves, before all four of them run into the school, with him and Mike pulling the girl by the hand.

I get that they're not going to class. Their best friend was found dead, if there ever was a reason to not go to class, that's it. But they are in school. Why the hell would they go to school if they're not going to classes? And what the hell are their parents doing? Jesus, with Mike on the run and Nancy going steady with my brother, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler are doing a dandy job!

I'll… I guess I'll speak with them tomorrow. Jonathan needs to be my priority right now.

I fiddle the phone cord as I wait for the receptionist to connect me to room 127. This time around, I have come prepared. I'm halfway through my cup of coffee and on my second cigarette; I'm ready to talk to mom or dad, whichever one of them decides to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" I feel relief when my mom's the one who picks up.

"Hey."

"Tina, honey," she chuckles. At least this time around, I'm not going to get a lecture. No, she already knows I'm skipping school and spending nights in my boyfriend's house. Desperate times call for desperate measures and today, she's apparently willing to look the other way. "Did they find the boy?"

"Yeah-"

"Oh, thank god!" she lets out a sigh of relief. "I was getting really worried."

"They found him in the water by the quarry, mom," I manage to utter. Today, I have been fairly calm and I did not cry but actually saying it to someone makes my heart break all over again. "Will is dead."

"Oh my god," I can actually hear the sadness in her voice. She liked him, just as she liked all of them. Whenever the boys were around while we were desperately trying to make Dustin's costume, she would light up. She liked those kids. They were always stuffed with cookies and juice and she didn't give up on that costume until the very end. "Oh god, how are you dealing? How is Jonathan? How is their mother? Oh goodness, Will was the sweetest boy. How are you all holding up now?"

I literally attacked Steve, we do not talk. Jonathan's baby brother is dead and he looks as if he's going to lose it at any given moment and Joyce thinks that her dead son is talking with her through the lights. Oh and let's not forget about the human-like figure without a face that is coming out of the wall.

"I… I don't know," I mumble. I don't want to lie to her but I can't really be completely honest, can I? I can't tell her that things are peachy because they obviously aren't and I can't exactly tell her that the world as we know it is falling apart and that people I know and love are all having various kinds of breakdowns, including myself. I can practically feel it, it is right around the corner. "Jonathan is completely broken but I think it's going to get worse. Now he's thinking about the funeral and everything and I think it's keeping his mind occupied but I'm afraid of what will happen once the dust settles. And Joyce… she's not doing well."

"God, she must be falling apart," mom sighs. Yeah, that's one way to phrase it. "I'm sorry to not be there for you, honey."

"I'm not the one that needs help. There isn't much you could do for them."

"Honey, I'm your mom," she points out. "I know you. You are affected by this as well. You're one hell of an actress but I know you. It's… it's okay to not be fine. It's okay to be broken."

"It's not okay when... I don't think you realize how far gone I am. This isn't… you might see it as some stupid high school crush but you married your high school boyfriend. A high school crush can be a high school crush or it can be a love that ends in marriage. Or maybe, it can be your best friend. Jonathan is not some passing crush, he is my best friend. He… next to you and Steve, he's the most important person in my life. And he just lost his baby brother. And I am just pushed into it. I did not volunteer, nor did anyone ask anything of me. But I am there. And I don't think you realize just how much I need to be there. He is not good. And Joyce is in denial."

"Oh goodness," mom sighs. I can't really blame her. I mean, even if she was here, what the hell could she do for me? Tap me on the shoulder and tell me that it's going to be okay? No, it doesn't work like that. And I'm not the one who needs help. I'll… handle it. "When will the funeral take place?"

"I doubt you'll be back for it but Jonathan and I have to organize it all today," I tell her, trying to push away another wave of tears. Now is not the time for crying. Not today. "I don't have… I guess I don't have any funeral clothes. Funny, you always complain how I wear too much black but none of it is fitting for a funeral of a 12-year-old boy is it?"

"Oh, honey I am so sorry."

It's too late for that. I'm crying. I doubt she could calm me if she was right by my side, let alone when she's in California. No matter how logical and rational my thoughts are they all lead to the fact that Will is gone. Jonathan doesn't have his brother any more. I will never spend one more day with the two of them, laughing as we listen to music and bicker about which song is good and which is not. Will, the sweetest child in the world is just… gone. He's gone. And as much as I try to be strong it makes me so fucking sad! "Can I borrow something from your closet? I don't have time to shop for-"

"Of course you can Tina," mom tells me. "Honey, you need to calm down. Jonathan is going to need you for this and it's not going to be easy. If you need to talk to me, or anything, don't hesitate. I am here for you. Even if I am not physically next to you… mom is always here for you. Okay?"

"Okay," I mumble, wiping away my tears. "I do have a question, actually," I pause to take a breath, to calm myself down and to try to think how I can phrase this kind of question. "Mom, if something happened to me or to Steve and… I don't know. If every bit of logic was telling you that one of us is gone, would you refuse to believe it?"

"Absolutely." She tells me in a heartbeat. I was not expecting that kind of answer.

"You wouldn't believe it to be true?"

"No."

"And what if they… if they show you a body?"

"If you don't see it happen, you don't believe it," she tells me. The lack of doubt, the complete certainty in her voice scares the shit out of me. She didn't even pause to think about it. She literally just told me that she would react the same way Joyce is. "Honey, now is not the time for a life lesson from me to you. You don't need something else to worry about but there is something you need to know. The bond between a mother and a child is stronger than anything else. Fathers? They know nothing. Nothing. A mom carries her child for nine months. She cleans it, feeds it and hopefully, raises it to be a decent human being. As bad as the relationship between the two can get, it's still a stronger bond than any other. Which is why a mother should never live to see the day when she loses her baby. You are all our babies, it doesn't matter if you're 4 or 40. If Joyce Byers refuses to accept that her baby boy is gone… I get it. I would be the same. Unless you see it happen, you absolutely refuse to believe it."

Joyce isn't going crazy, she's a mom. That's all it is. I didn't see it, not until my own mom pointed it out. But I know now that she'd be the same. And if I was a mom, I'd be the same. Not all moms, of course. But I happen to think my mom is a good one. And Joyce is the best mom on this damned planet.

"What do we do? How do we help her?"

"You need to let her break," she tells me. "And then, you help her build herself up. These… these next couple of days are going to be very difficult Tina. But the worst part is after that. Reality will hit you, all of you who cared for Will. That's when you need to be strong."

"Mom, that sounds very scary."

"I know honey," she admits. "But you're strong. You'll handle it. And you will help them handle it. From what I could tell, Jonathan is a smart boy. And Joyce… life wasn't easy on her and she's far from the teenager Joyce I remember well. But she is a tough one."

"I hope your right about it."

"I might not be of much help from Los Angeles, but we will be home soon," she reassures me. "If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask Steve," she tells me. I don't have time to consider my actions and by the time I realize that I have let out an audible scoff, it's too late. "Now what?" mom sighs.

"We aren't exactly on speaking terms," I utter. Again, I can't lie but I can't tell her the truth either. Oh, he broke Jonathan's camera and I exploded on him. That makes him sound like a bad guy, right? He is a bad guy, so I'd hardly lose sleep over it but it would be followed by a question. Why did he break Jonathan's camera? I can't exactly tell her that I purposely took my clothes of so that Jonathan can see. Mom wouldn't stop to hear the part when he only saw me in my bra and my naked back. "We got into a fight but it's not a big deal. Besides, I'm over at Jonathan's all the time now. I think I'll be there until you return. I'd stay longer, but dad…"

"Would lose it," she finishes in my stead. He sure would pick the right time to be a caring father, wouldn't he? "Now is not the time for you two to be bickering. But me telling you that is hardly going to work now, is it? I've been saying that for the last 16 years but… If you need anything, call me. Okay?"

"Okay," I agree, suddenly feeling the need to end this conversation as soon as possible, before she asks something that would require me to lie. Again. "I love you."

"I love you too honey."

The dress I picked out is too big for me but I doubt anyone will be paying attention to my choice of outfit. It's black, it's long enough, with long sleeves and no cleavage; the perfect funeral dress. In fact, I'm pretty sure mom wore it for a few funerals. I might not be looking like Christie Brinkley but it will cover me up and it will not draw attention to me in any way.

I check the fridge, since I don't have time to cook anything for the ungrateful dickhead. It's full; it appears that despite my earlier thoughts, I am not willing to let him starve. After all, mom would wear the dress for his funeral so what the hell would I be left with?

I hear a car park on our driveway and seconds later, I hear a honk. And the feeling I feel is not something I am used to; it's actual relief. I am feeling proper relief that I am leaving my house. I would rather deal with a funeral and my grieving boyfriend than actually stay in my own home, in the same place where I learned how to crawl, walk, talk and let's face it, curse. I should not be so glad for leaving my home after spending just one miserable hour in it.

I am neither here nor there. This place is not as welcoming as it once was, not with everything that is going on. And I am not a Byers either. I am but a bystander. I care for them greatly, yes, but I'm still just a bystander. But this situation isn't normal. It is… horrific. And bad. It will get better. But it won't happen today and probably not soon and it will definitely not be as great as it was before.

Jonathan is the only part of my life that I am absolutely certain about at the moment. My home is not my home if I have no one there waiting for me. Yeah, they're not here temporarily but even if they were… and with Steve and the way it culminated before! I would rather fact the horrible side of life because even if it's horrible, I have Jonathan holding my hand. I'm not the fairy godmother; I'm not the rescuer, the one that brings hope and salvation. Fuck, I'm as far away from it as one can be. I'm barely keeping my life together, let alone all of this, all that he has to deal with. But I am his support. And he's mine too. It sucks and it shouldn't be this way but at least we are not alone.

I throw my bag over my shoulder and I carefully hold the hanger of the dress, so as not to have the dress dragging on the ground. I walk out of the house and lock it, not feeling as I'm leaving anything behind, whether it is a real thing, something physical or a feeling, an emotion. Nothing. Nada. I look over at Jonathan, who's waiting in the driver's seat. He gives me the tiniest of smiles. Not the "I am so happy right now" smile, but more of a… "my entire world is falling apart but at least you're here" kind of smile. I know how to recognize it because I have the same one on my face, I know it.

I never envisioned doing this, I never did. When you plan out your life, even at 16, you don't exactly plan for the bad stuff. You plan for the good and you deal with the disappointment when life doesn't go by that plan. I knew that I wouldn't be as happy at 16 as I had hoped to be, but this is just too much.

"This one is made out of soft wood, with a crepe interior," the worker tells is in a low voice; it's an unofficial rule in funeral homes, apparently. In grief, you need to speak in a whisper. Looking at the casket, at its inside is just so wrong. It looks so tacky and to imagine that Will… it just breaks my heart all over again. If there's one thing I'm sure of now, I'll want to go in a fucking wooden box, none of this crap. Will is going to be put in one of these things. Knowing that is bad enough on its own but the emotionless look on Jonathan's face brings a chill to my bones. "Now, uh, I don't know what your budget is but over here, we have copper and bronze." He waves his hand and guides us to another casket. A copper one. Even tackier than the wooden one. One would think that they would make more effort in making better caskets, considering death is inevitable for all of us.

The magic word that should not be mentioned at moments like these: budget.

"I'm sorry, could you please give us a moment?" I ask, ignoring Jonathan's surprise.

"Of course. I will wait in my office," the man reassures us. "Knock when you are ready to talk." He tells us. I grab Jonathan by the hand and almost drag him out into the hallway.

"What's going on?"

"Jonathan, you need to know the exact number," I tell him, still keeping my voice low, feeling as if someone is going to reprimand me if I talk in a normal tone. "With things like these, they just look for a way to get money out of your pocket. I just… if you need me to help with it, I will. I want to."

"Absolutely not. You're not paying for my brother's funeral." He protests in a heartbeat.

"I'm not suggesting that I should pay for it," I sigh. I'd be glad to do that but I know that he would never accept it. He's too proud for that. And let's face it, if the roles were reversed, I wouldn't accept it either. "I'm just telling you that if you want to buy a fucking… copper casket, I'll help you if you don't have enough. I don't need a car, Jonathan. I don't need whatever it is that my savings could get me. I just… I just want to help. I want to make it easier for you and right now, money is the only way that I can do that because no matter what I tell you, no matter what I say, I am not helping you."

I knew that it was around the corner, I fucking knew it. I think Jonathan saw it coming too. He grabs a hold of me even before I start crying.

"You are helping," he mumbles into my ear. "I don't need money. We have enough for this. Will… Will is going to get a proper burial. That's not how you're gonna help me. I just need you here. I don't want you to leave me alone and you're not leaving me alone. That means more than you can know."

"Well, it doesn't feel like it's enough," I sigh. I move away from him and as I do that, I notice someone else in the hallway. "Nancy?" I ask in surprise when I realize that the girl that's sheepishly approaching us is my brother's girlfriend. Jonathan looks just as shocked as I am.

"Hi," I can barely hear her voice. "Your mom told me I'll find the two of you here. I… I am so sorry."

It's not my place to thank her. I'm not the one that should be accepting condolences and Jonathan, I don't think he knows how. He just nods his head with a sad expression on his face.

"I'm… Do you have a moment? I need to ask you something?" Nancy speaks up, looking as if she's made a decision. God, is now really the time for talking. "It's important?" she adds, as if she could hear my thoughts. I look over at Jonathan. It's his call. He nods his head.

"It's about Barb," she tells us. "I think we need to get outside or something."

"What about Barb?" Jonathan asks as he starts walking towards the exit. Nancy and I follow him.

"She's missing. No one's seen her since the party. I thought maybe you have?"

"I forgot to ask him," I admit. "With all that's been going on, I just forgot all about it. Did you see anything when you were taking photos?" I ask Jonathan, who shakes his head. "One moment she was there and the next, she wasn't."

"Yeah, I saw the same thing," he shrugs as he holds the door open for us. "I figured she just bolted."

"So did everyone else, but I think I've found something. Maybe you can explain it." Nancy tells him as she reaches into her bag. She pulls out a photograph; a it's been ripped and taped back together.

It takes me a moment to realize that it's one of the photos Carol ripped the other day; one of those that Jonathan took the night when Barb was last seen. I didn't even realize at the time that Nancy grabbed those pieces before the wind blew them away; we were more concerned about the camera at the time. In the photo, I can see Barb sitting on the edge of our diving board, with her legs dipped into the pool.

"You two know photography," Nancy sighs impatiently as Jonathan and I look at the photo. "Can either one of you explain what this is?" she asks, pointing at the corner of the picture. It looks… weird. Right behind Barb, there's some kind of smudge, a large, tree shaped smudge. I've never seen anything like that and I've been into photography for quite some time.

"It looks like it could be some sort of perspective distortion." I suggest with a shrug.

"Yeah, but I wasn't using a wide angle," Jonathan tells me. Nancy looks as if we are not speaking English. "I don't know," Jonathan admits as he gives her back the photo. "It's weird."

"And neither one of you saw anyone else?" she asks and both Jonathan and I shake our heads. "The cops think she ran away. But they don't know Barb. And I've went back to your place."

"What? When?" I ask in confusion.

"I needed to look," she tells me. Well, she is Steve's girlfriend. If Jonathan had to look around my place in search for his best friend, I'd hardly get angry about it. "I want back there and in the woods, I thought… I thought I saw something. Some weird… man. I don't know what it was."

Well, I'm sure as hell glad that I'm staying with Jonathan for the time being. His place is safe.

"I'm sorry," Nancy suddenly speaks up. "I… I shouldn't have bothered the two of you today. I'm sorry." She starts walking away.

"What did he look like?" Jonathan suddenly asks her. "This man. In the woods."

I can almost feel the wheels in my head starting to move and they're slowly picking up their pace. Joyce… Joyce saw a thing, a thing that looks a lot like what Nancy just described. And the lights.

"I don't know," Nancy shrugs. "It was almost as if… as if it didn't…."

"Didn't have a face?" Jonathan asks.

"How did you know that?" Nancy asks in surprise. I look at Jonathan, who's looking at me, wide-eyed.

"Lights flickered last night," I manage to utter, making him look at me in complete shock. "I didn't want to say anything, I didn't want to feed Joyce's… I just thought nothing of it. I thought it was the same explanation we used for the phone and the lights, I thought it was electricity and… they flickered. I saw them. The light turned on, flickered and then off. I saw it last night."

What if… what if it's real? What if Joyce has been telling us the truth all along?

Okay, so when Tina and her mom talk, I took a few lines from a Winona Ryder interview. If you wanna read it, google Winona and Marie Claire, I'm sure you'll find it. Basically, she describes a conversation she had with her mom about Joyce's complete lack of belief in Will's death and those words had such an impact on me, I had to use it. I changed it up and expanded a bit, but that whole part about a mom refusing to believe it, thank you Winona Ryder and her mom 3