Chapter Text
May 11th, 1986
It always starts the same way. Darkness, and cold - it’s always so, so cold. It’s funny, how the mind can trick someone like that - make them feel things that aren’t real. Nancy feels the WHACK of her head hitting the linoleum floor of the empty pool, in a rotten, empty version of her own world. She stands, taking in her surroundings - the dust particles in the air, the massive, pulsing vines crawling up the walls, the distant sound of thunder.
She thinks of the last time she was here in this pool - Steve had pushed her, following suit by diving in, and she clung to him, the early November air biting at her wet skin. In that moment, things were easy; she was tipsy from the beers she had had, and perhaps drunk on the attention from Steve Harrington and his friends, feeling like a part of something - if only she had known what would happen.
Now, as she stumbles through the empty pool, she always forgets what’s coming until it happens - Barb’s rotting, lifeless corpse, more a part of the Upside Down than anything else. Despite her decay, Nancy immediately recognizes her friend - her best friend, whose voice she would give anything to hear again, who she wishes she could apologize to, who would never grow up -
Nancy wakes with a scream, bathed in a cold sweat. She pants, her heart racing, threatening to beat out of her chest. She shuts her eyes, pressing a palm to her forehead. You’re okay, she thinks - perhaps she’s whispering it aloud, as if breathing it into the quiet late-night air would make it more believable.
Ever since Vecna’s vision a few months ago, the nightmares have been getting worse. In the year following Barb’s death, she had similar nightmares - she would wake just like this, in the wee hours of the morning, unable to catch her breath or calm herself down. Sometimes, during that time, she would call Steve. He would answer sleepily, taking the phone from his grumbling father. It was always the same thing - it’s okay, Nance; it’s not your fault; I’m here for you, it’s alright; I love you, we'll get through this. She knew he wanted to be there for her, but she also knew that it was 3AM, and there wasn’t much Steve could do for her. Every phone call ended the same way - Try to get some sleep - I love you, Steve would whisper. Yeah, same, Nancy would whisper back. Goodnight, Steve.
And, deep down, she would think about how if she hadn’t gone to Steve’s that night, Barb might still be here. She would push the thought down as soon as it crept into her mind - it wasn’t fair to Steve, and she felt guilty for even letting herself think that. Still, though, the thought bubbled under the surface, gnawing away at her until she thought there may not be anything left of herself.
More recently, the nightmares had gotten better. She thought of Barb less and less - to the point that, when she did think of her, Nancy immediately felt worse about the fact that she was forgetting her friend. She found herself focusing on college applications, and Jonathan, and fighting interdimensional monsters for what felt like the hundredth time in her life. But, when Vecna put her in that trance, and showed her what had become of Barb, the old guilt and shame came surging back into her psyche. It was relentless. She had tried channeling her energy into other things, but to no avail. Not even the prospect of Emerson in the fall brought excitement anymore, even though it had been her dream since she was ten.
Now, laying in bed, Nancy felt tears begin to well behind her eyes. Dammit. These were the worst nights - the ones where she actually cried. She usually was able to fight it, but sometimes it was just too much. For a moment, she thinks about calling Steve again - no, she shouldn’t. She knows he’d pick up - after perhaps one too many confessions in the Upside Down, she knows he still harbors deep feelings for her. But, that’s unfair - she can’t call him just because she knows he’d listen.
She thinks about calling Jonathan, too - but that’s not a good idea. Things have been… strange, between them. Ever since spring break, when he went back to California, they didn't speak much. He’d call, sometimes, but the conversations have been getting considerably shorter, and less personal - whenever Nancy brings up college, he quickly changes the subject. She’s not stupid - he’s hiding something. She has a sneaking suspicion he didn’t get into Emerson, and was too embarrassed to tell her. But, shouldn’t he be able to tell her everything?
Nancy shakes the thought. She glances at the clock on her bedside table - 2:37AM. No, she shouldn’t call anybody. Instead, she pulls herself out of bed, and pads over to her window. She glances out to the street below - quiet, as usual. She still half-expects the street lamp to flicker, or the ground to shake and rip open - and not-so-deep down, she wishes it actually would, and swallow her whole.
******
Meanwhile, two miles across town, Robin Buckley wakes with a start. She isn’t sure why - it seems that sleep has been evading her lately. She’s been having strange, specific dreams - not necessarily always nightmares. Tonight’s dream is already fading, but she’s pretty sure it involved Vecna giving a biology test she forgot to study for - typical.
She thinks about calling Steve, then realizes it’s a crazy idea - he’d lose his mind getting a call from her in the middle of the night. But, he’s also the only person in the world who would understand the crazy, unbelievable things they’ve been through - at least, the only person she would ever think of calling at this time of night. Outside, a car drives past, causing the headlights to dance across her bedroom ceiling. She groans, and flops back onto her pillow, praying she’ll fall asleep soon.