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026. 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱.
𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 that she wasn’t avoiding Steve Harrington the whole time in the shed. After she’d spoken with Nancy and had her mind completely and unfortunately sputtered, she tried to put up a front— pretending as if Nancy had simply made acquainted conversation with her. She’d walked into the shed and avoided Steve’s questions with usual arcane answers, and he didn’t press any further because he knew what Lori Philbin was like. If she didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to talk. And besides, there were so many more important things to be concerned about.
So why, the entire time they stuck cardboard to the walls, was Steve trying not to think about her? In some stupid state of fucking denial, he tried and tried to toss her out of his mind— and on the other side of the shed, she’d been doing the exact same thing. Moving to a different task when they winded up next to one another, or grabbing a new piece of cardboard when his hand accidentally brushed against her’s on the wall as he stapled. There were so, so, so many things to worry about. There was danger looming form every possible angle. Why couldn’t they just think about that instead? They tried to convince themselves to.
Lori was having an easier time at this than he was. All her life, she’d closed up when things got too heavy, she’d learned how to dissociate when it suited her, and she learned what fucking denial was. If she wasn’t preparing a shed to fight off demons from an alternate dimension, this would be a whole lot more peachy— she could avoid Steve Harrington as if he didn’t exist. But she had to see Dart, she had to walk into Dustin’s room and throw herself into this mess. She just had to thrust her and Steve into a world of forced proximity where it was absolutely impossible to not think of one another, when danger and death lingered in the air outside their shelter. And it was hard to avoid him. Lori had never had a hard time avoiding anyone— even her own father.
But their lover’s quarrel didn’t halt the plan in any sense. The shed had been prepared. Thanks to everyone in the house, the kids, the teenagers, and Joyce and Hopper— the shed was fully disguised and absolutely unrecognizable. They’d worked hard and fast, together, as one big group. They duck-taped cardboard pieces to the walls, they’d stapled sheets to the ceiling, they’d covered every square inch of the floor with newspapers and old sheets of parchment, and duck-taped the hell out of two chairs. The shed was completely enclosed in construction materials, there was not an inch left uncovered or a speck of original wooden walls visible. Someone had gone in every few minutes to check on Will, and it was mostly Lori who offered to take that job.
Now, Will. Hopper made Steve bring Lori and the kids inside so they didn’t have to see Will being tied to the steel post (covered in newspaper sheets) with rubber wires, still unconscious. They’d left the shed and walked inside the house, and Nancy had followed too. The only people in the shed were Joyce, Hopper, Jonathan, and Mike. Lori felt that it was fair, because those were his closest loved ones. And she didn’t really want to see what he was like under no sedation— she didn’t want to see how a possessed person acted, and especially not an innocent child like Will.
It was far into the night when she found herself sitting on the living room floor, now, in the center of all the tunnels. Her finger was tracing along the outlines of the drawings, her legs crossed in the middle of the room. Steve was in the same room, standing at a distance, practicing his bat swinging. Dustin was standing by the kitchen window and gazing out at the backyard nervously, Nancy was leaning against the kitchen wall, and Max and Lucas were sitting in the hallway, across from one another, talking— but their voices were too low to hear. The house was quiet.
All Lori could hear was the gusts of wind Steve was causing by swinging his bat.
She flickered her eyes to his bat, “How do you even have that thing,” she asked, with a grimace from the reminder of thumbtacks it gave her.
Steve gave a mighty swing, his eyes catching her’s in the middle of it. “Told you, it’s from last year.” he said, casually. “Helped me kill one of those fuckin’ things.”
So, they were going to pretend like there wasn’t somewhat of a rift between them? Yeah.
“In this room?” she asked, letting her hands fold in her lap. She looked around. “You killed one of them in this room.”
“Hit it into the trap, down the hall over there,” he pointed back to the hallway, and then gripped the bat in his good hand and swung again. He didn’t sound particularly proud of that, though.
She stared at him, at the swings he was doing, her lips departed. “Then what?”
He paused, and the vision played in his head. “Burned it.”
Lori swallowed and looked down at her fingers on the drawings. “I tried to do that back at the junkyard. I thought it would work,” her mouth twisted, uncomfortably. “But it didn’t.”
He slowly stopped swinging, and twirled the bat in his hand. He observed her expression, tense. He knew better than to ask what was wrong again, or if she was okay.
Lori traced her finger along an outline on the page, and bit hard onto her lip in confliction. She stared at the pad of her finger, at the tiny scar from the thumbtack.
And without thinking too much about it, she mustered up the words. She realized she couldn’t sit there in front of Steve and just pretend like nothing happened— avoiding him in the shed was easy, but sitting right in front of him in the quiet house was a different story. She was always an honest person.
She stood up. Her eyes shifted up to his, and he was still, quietly watching her actions. “Look, Steve,” she paused, and the mention of his real name caught his attention.
He watched her, leaning on his bat.
“On the way to the shed… Nancy stopped me,” Lori took another step, avoiding his eyes, “And, so, she was telling me about ho—”
Her words were cut short by the lights flickering.
Immediately, her heart jumped to her throat, and her eyes shot to the lights on the living room ceiling— flickering repeatedly. She shot her wide eyes back to Steve, and they shared the same worried expression before jumping on their feet and rushing for the kitchen.
Dustin turned on his heel, and rushed to the window again, and Nancy was no longer against the wall— stepping quickly at his side.
Steve and Lori approached behind them, standing close beside one another, hearts racing. The four of them stared out the backdoor and imagined the shed, minds hurrying with confusion for what was going on. The lights were pulsating rapidly, not in a normal way.
“What’s happening?” Lori asked out loud, inhaling sharply.
“I don’t know,” Nancy answered, her lips pursed in confusion. She stared forward.
As Lori looked up at the lights, her eyebrows sharply narrowing with concern, Dustin turned his head towards Steve.
“You don’t think…” he trailed off quietly, worriedly. He referred to the telltale phenomenon that they knew— when the lights flickered like that, it meant something was happening. Something related to the demogorgons. Or, the Mindflayer, now.
Steve swallowed, and shook his head. But his eyes weren’t entirely convincing.
Lori stared at the flickering lights, darting her eyes all over the kitchen to the living room from her spot— looking from lightbulb to lightbulb in concern. Her lips were parted, and the fluttering of the lights pierced her brain a bit.
But in a few seconds more, it stopped.
“What the hell…” Steve said, his voice drowning out in a whisper as he looked up at the lights.
Lori’s eyebrows relaxed a bit, but still stayed furrowed. “What the fuck was that?” she said, almost breathless.
“You think he’s okay?” Dustin asked frantically, referring to Will. He rushed over to the kitchen window, leaned against the sink, and stared out for something to see.
When he pushed himself away from the window after a second, Steve stepped forward before he could make it to the back door.
“Hey, we said we’d stay inside.” he told him, sternly.
Dustin looked from him, to Nancy, to Lori, who all shared the same expression. “But—”
“We’re staying in here, Hagar,” Lori said, a bit reluctantly— because she, too, wanted to go and see what was happening. “They’ll probably be in soon, or something.” she crossed her arms. “Let’s just… hang tight.” she shuddered.
Dustin looked back to the door, sighed, and then stepped away and went back to the window.
Lori rose her hands and rubbed them down her face, “Mon dieu,” she whispered to herself.
“Max, Lucas?” Steve called, realizing they weren’t with them. He turned away and leaned over to see into the hall.
They were at the end of the hall, staring out the window into the backyard. At the mention of their names, they turned around, and walked down the corridor.
Lori was sitting in one of the dining room chairs when they arrived in the kitchen, wearing the same concern on their faces as the rest. They joined Dustin at the kitchen sink, staring out the window beside him.
Minutes passed. They didn’t know how many— well, Nancy probably knew, because she was watching the clock— but no one spoke. Lori was sitting at the table, her leg bobbing up and down as she leant her head on her palm, eyes fixed hard on the oak wood in contemplation. The kids stared out the window. Steve was leaning on the fridge, the bat hanging at his side, his ankles crossed.
Just as she was about to say something, or go back into the living room, the door flew open.
In rushed Hopper, walking like he was on a power trip, his face struck with a realization. Behind him Joyce followed with Jonathan, and Mike.
Lori stood up from the table, her chair pushing out as a look of confusion took over her face.
“What happened?” Dustin asked, urgently, as Hopper reached for an empty envelope on the wall cabinet.
The man sat in one of the chairs, wasting no time in clicking a pen and writing on the envelope. Everyone followed him, and surrounded his seat in urgency.
Hopper sighed, as he scribbled little dots on the paper. “I think he’s talking,” he spoke out, focused. “Just not with words…”
Steve hovered over the group, behind Lori. Max and Dustin were at her sides. She stared at the dots Hopper was writing on the envelope, a series of quick dots and a dash.
“Hey— what is that,” Steve asked out loud, his eyebrows narrowed.
“Morse code, dipshit,” Lori whispered. Her eyes were growing wide with realization.
He put his hand out, offended.
Everyone replied at the same time, because nobody heard her say it. They all said, “Morse code,” in unison.
“H — E — R — E,” Hopper spelled out.
“Here,” everyone repeated, in unison again.
“Will’s still in there,” Hopper said, lowly. He let the pen fall onto the table, and looked around at them, pausing as he let out a shaky breath. “He’s talking to us.”
Lori took in a long breath, “Okay,” she said, quietly, and looked around, “Okay, so what now?” she said, her words quick. Her eyes landed on Hopper.
“You guys know how to decode?” Hopper looked to the kids, and Lori.
She shook her head furiously from side to side, but they nodded quickly.
“I have a manual,” Dustin put his finger up. “A decoding sheet’s in it.”
Of course you have a manual, Hagar— Lori thought.
“Walkie-talkies?” Hopper asked.
“Of course,” Dustin scoffed with an eye roll, as if it were obvious.
“Good. You six stay in here,” Hopper nodded to them, and Steve, and Nancy, speaking so sternly. “I’ll reach you from the shed. Got it?” they nodded solemnly. He turned to look at Joyce, “Let’s go talk to Will.”
“Close Gate.” Lori repeated for the third time, her eyes skimming over the words written in crayon on the back of a coloring book. “What does that even mean?”
At first, she wasn’t sure how they were going to communicate with Will in the shed. Of course she knew what Morse Code was, she wasn’t an idiot- she’d even done a project on it once for school, but that knowledge had escaped her over many years— but she didn’t know the procedure. But as soon as she saw Jonathan rush back into the kitchen with his boombox speaker from Will’s room, carrying a cassette in his hand, and Hopper grabbing one of the kids’ walkie-talkies, she got a pretty good idea. And as soon as they heard the first beep over their walkie-talkie they had in the kitchen, they went straight to action.
They were telling Will stories. Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike were telling the boy anecdotes, trying to get to his mind. Steve, Nancy, and Lori were sitting around the dining room table, and the kids were on the other side with the walkie-talkie and the decoding sheet. Hopper had transmitted the communications, Lori announced the dashes and the dots— Dustin had written them down for clarification, Lucas decoded with Max, and Nancy scribbled the letters down on the back of an old coloring book until they were left with two words: CLOSE GATE.
Now, Lori stared at those words as Nancy held up the cardboard, her eyebrows twisting. It was now that she looked at their expressions, but she didn’t have time to analyze them because a sound interrupted everyone’s thoughts.
The phone suddenly rang. A loud, very loud, shrieking ring.
Lori drew in a gasp, and they shot their heads up to the blue phone hanging on the kitchen wall. It shook violently as it rang.
And within a second, it clicked in their minds— the phone. Ringing.
Will.
“Shit!— ” Dustin nearly tripped on his own feet as he broke into a run, pushing Max right out of his way so that she stumbled, as he darted for the phone. “Shit!” he yelled.
He grabbed the phone, pulled it off the hanger, and furiously slammed it back down.
The ringing stopped. They let out a collective breath of air, relieved.
Lori was about to reach for the coloring pad, ask about The Gate again, when the phone erupted in another ring.
Dustin reached for it.
“Pull the damn thing off the wall!” Lori shouted.
Nancy rushed to the phone, grabbed it with both her hands, and tore it towards her. She let out a raging grunt as she roughly ripped the phone from the wall, and chucked it somewhere down the hall within a mere second.
They blinked as it clattered on the floor.
“Damn,” Lori said out loud. The corner of her lip twitched into a small impressed smile.
“D’you think he heard that?” Max asked, delicately.
“It’s just a phone,” Steve said, looking from person to person. “It could be anywhere,” he stopped on Lori, “Right?”
A few moments passed where no one said anything. They were catching their breath after the sudden panic, silently debating on what to do next.
And then it came.
The roaring.
Lori’s heart sunk, deep into the pit of her stomach. Her body went painfully tense. Her eyes struck with a wide look, fear, shock, pulsating through them.
She whipped her head towards Steve, as some sort of consolation. He looked back at her, the same worried expression painted on his face.
Nancy turned the corner that separated the kitchen from the living room— facing the direction of where the roaring was coming from. The kids were close behind her, following prudently but curiously. Lori didn’t want to move. She felt like her body was struck, in some way, she didn’t know.
Steve pulled her with him as they approached the group. The shrieking roared in the distance, ruffling the trees.
“That’s not good,” Dustin said, shakily.
The kids rushed to the window, jumping onto the couch to look out.
Lori placed her head into her hands, “No, no, no, no,” she whispered to herself. She began to pace along the living room carpet. “Merde!”
The back door flew open.
“Lori, stop, hey,” Steve tried to stop her, but didn’t touch her, his voice stern.
Hopper stomped quickly on the floor, a rifle in his left hand and one in the right. “Hey,” he called into the living room, “Hey! Get away from the windows!” he shouted to the kids.
The four of them bounded off the couch. It was all happening so fast.
Lori took in a deep breath, and shut her eyes. She shook out her hands, preparing. Preparing for what?
Steve grabbed her shoulder, squeezed it with his hand, and then grabbed his bat of nails. There was no time to talk, no time to console her, no time for anything but preparing for the fucking battle that was coming. Coming fast. So suddenly.
“Do you know how to use this?” Hopper turned to Jonathan, handing the rifle in his direction.
“What?” Jonathan breathed.
“Can you use this!” Hopper urged, his voice cracking a bit.
“I can,” Nancy butted in before Jonathan could reply.
Hopper didn’t think twice before tossing the rifle at her, and she caught it from beside Lori. Thinking about the fact that she didn’t have a weapon, Lori combed back through her memory— even in this state of fear— and remembered Steve retrieving his lighter from the top of the bus where she’d thrown it. He’d given it back to her to hold onto to.
Quickly, she shoved her hand into her pocket, feeling the cold steel of it on her fingers. She ripped it out, and closed it in her palm. This time, this time, she could do it if they needed it. She clutched it in her fist and shifted on her feet.
And then the scene was set. Nancy cocked the rifle. Steve twirled his bat. Hopper held the gun up. Lucas had the wrist-rocket ready. Lori clutched the lighter.
Then there was silence, for a long time. It was painful, the agonizing silence that made Lori’s heart race uncontrollably. Suddenly, she was back at the junkyard. Suddenly, she was back in that bus, standing there behind the window, watching as Dart approached. She was back in that feeling— the dreadful, awful, completely gut-wrenching feeling of danger.
A growl and a loud squelch rang through the air outside the kitchen. Everyone let out a scream, and they all turned in unison towards the sound.
“What are they doing,” Nancy said shakily, aiming the gun.
The growling and squelching made its way around the house.
“Oh my god,” Lori breathed out.
The bushes ruffled outside the kitchen window.
Suddenly, a snarl came from the front of the house now, startling them all into another turn of attention. Heavy breaths were heard. The squelching got louder, and closer, and louder. Until it was nearly at the window.
The growling didn’t stop. It came in series, it was loud, eerie, and terrifying. More squelching. More snarling. More screeching. It was coming closer.
And then all of a sudden— it did stop.
Something whined.
Lori couldn’t utter words, all she could do was clutch the damn lighter like it was going to do anything, and let her chest heave unsteadily.
Moments passed.
The guns were aimed at the window.
And in a blink, the glass shattered, sending shards everywhere, and in came a demogorgon— flying through the window.
Without even thinking of it, Lori grabbed Steve’s hand as the glass broke.
He clutched it back without thinking, squeezing it hard as they bounded out of the way. He yanked her into his side.
The room erupted in screams and yells and shouts, as the body flew into the room and landed on the floor with a thud. It slammed against the floor and knocked over the TV and the coffee table, and didn’t move. Items clattered to the ground.
Lori felt Steve intertwine their fingers, squeezing so hard their knuckles turned white.
All that was heard was heavy breaths, as everyone stared at the slimy body of the demogorgon— lying in the corner of the room.
Slowly, Hopper took the first step, never letting his aim of the gun go down. He aimed at the creature as his steps neared— the group slowly inching behind with him. Carefully. Slowly. Cautiously.
“Holy shit,” Dustin was the first to speak.
“Is it dead?” Max’s voice was quiet.
The floor creaked as Hopper took another step. He lifted his foot, and nudged the head of the dead demogorgon. The head slid to the side with a slimy sound, completely unresponsive.
Lori felt her shoulders relax with a wave of relief— but just for the time being, because she knew there was more than one out there. She let out a sharp breath, a tiny “huh,” falling past her lips.
Before anyone could say anything else, they heard a creak.
Everyone turned around to face the door. More silence.
The lock turned.
Steve tightened his grip on Lori’s hand as if it were a reflex.
The door chain slid to an open.
Everyone bared their guns, their weapons as the door pushed open.
And then things seemed to move in slow motion— as if they were suddenly underwater— as a pair of converse stepped over the threshold, then cuffed jeans, then a jacket, and then slicked back hair and eyeliner-covered eyes. And blood dripping down from a nose.
𝙅𝙐𝙇𝙄
my denial activated lovers <3
#justkissalready
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