Chapter Text
October 1989
Sleep didn’t come easy to Caroline Mayfield these last few years. Dreams were often plagued by images of Billy or the Upside Down. The night that she, Max, and the rest of the party narrowly escaped the threat of the stray Demodog at the Byers’ house had been burned into her brain, deep within her amygdala, so that any sight, sound, or smell that even remotely resembled that dark, shadowy place would send her into a downward spiral of panic and immobility.
She could still taste it on her tongue. That acidic, burning, metallic, pungent mist that shot into her nasal cavity and mouth. The frailty that overtook her limbs and the heavy drowsiness mimicking sleep deprivation that seized her eyes made her easy prey for the slithering vines that had wrapped around her ankles and wrists. If Steve hadn’t turned around in time to see her that night in the tunnels… She used to shiver at the thought.
It was a part of her now. A constant connection to that other world. She couldn’t predict when the flashbacks would occur, but every now and then when she least expected it, she would see images of decay and ash, paralyzed in the darkness until her mind decided to free her from the temporary prison it locked her in. It was a cruel betrayal— her mind sending her back to that awful place even after all these years.
Almost five years had passed, and it was still just as fresh in her memory as the day it all happened. Everything. Billy’s hands on her. His body moving against hers. The warm, wet glide of his tongue against her skin. His bruising grip and brute force. The feel of his breath prickling within her ear as he whispered despicable things that dare not be repeated.
It didn’t completely ruin her ability to be with another man, but it took her a long time to trust and open up to people. Always wondering what their motives were, what the end game was. Even to this day, she could not tolerate to be around someone who was smoking Marlboro Reds. Lucky enough for her, she had yet to encounter anyone who wore Paco Rabanne cologne.
If Caroline was being honest with herself, she preferred the nights that she dreamt about the Upside Down and Demodogs instead of Billy. The snarling monster with rows of razor-sharp teeth and the piercing, screeching howl that chilled her to the bone. Her hands, sticky and wet from whatever that goop was that its skin secreted. The blur of dozens upon dozens of those things running past her and Steve in the tunnels as he held her in his arms, limp and barely breathing.
That was the thing, though. She may have been physically weak— unable to walk, talk, or keep her eyes open for long— but she heard everything. Felt everything. She was so incredibly aware of her surroundings that it made the terror of paralysis that much more distressing.
And the tunnels. My God, the tunnels. The festering stench of putrid pumpkins and death. Caroline had imagined it must have been a direct path to Hell. The creatures that dwelled within its channels had, up to that point, only been imagined and created by horror film mavens. Wouldn’t they be surprised to learn that monsters really did exist in the dark? In Will Byers’ case, right in his own backyard. They were the things of which nightmares were made.
Thankfully, there was a little white pill for that. A daily dose of Valium did the trick in about twenty or thirty minutes. It didn’t completely erase her anxiety, but it was enough to bring her down off the edge. On particularly grueling days, sometimes she took two. That usually made for a really rough day later on, though, when she would be out of pills but have a full tank of anxiety. And the thing about her tank— it never ran out.
Talk therapy was out of the question. The only person she had ever spoken to about the incident, aside from Max and Steve, was Dr. Owens. All in all, not such a bad guy. He was empathetic, professional, and had been the one to first suggest she try the medication, since her episodes were becoming worse and worse. Daily functioning was as difficult a task as fitting a camel through the eye of a needle.
She was jumpy and had the non-battle, civilian equivalent to shell-shock. Constantly watching over her shoulder and wringing her hands, biting her lip and picking at her cuticles until they bled, there wasn’t much that could calm her down. Not until that magic pill came along.
She had struggled for months. She had contemplated suicide a few times. The shame of what had happened to her— what her own stepbrother had done to her— ate away at her like acid. The looks and whispers after Billy’s disappearance made her feel like she was in the spotlight, like everyone knew what had happened. In reality, though, no one at school really did. Steve knew more than Max, but he never said a word about it to anyone else. Caroline was sure of that.
When she moved away, however, in the fall after graduation, her talk therapy regarding the whole truth ended. Dr. Owens was the only “approved” doctor she could talk to in detail about the events and existence of the Upside Down. Eventually, she also told him about Billy. It wasn’t nearly as threatening talking to a man about those experiences as she thought it would be. There was just something about Dr. Owens that made her feel safe. Maybe it was because he reminded her of her dad.
After the move, her new primary physician took over the prescription. Anxiety and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Those were her diagnoses. Of course, the anxiety and PTSD were the result, solely, of being raped repeatedly by a family member. At least, that was what she had to say. Not a lie, but only a partial truth. The world was just not ready for a diagnosis related to other-dimensional near-death experiences.
Pittsburgh wasn’t exactly across the world from Hawkins, but it worked well enough. Dad had died the summer before they moved to Hawkins. He handled his grief and anguish of the divorce and being separated from his girls by medicating himself with alcohol. One night, he got behind the wheel of the car and took a drive on the dangerous Highway 49. There was nothing for Caroline back in California. Painful memories, and probably the first place Billy would look if he was somehow still alive. She couldn’t risk it. There was too much at stake. Her share of the money she received from her father’s life insurance was more than enough to get her started on her own in a new place, to create new memories.
It was an okay place. She got to experience all four seasons living in Pennsylvania, something that she never truly had in California. And her landlady Phyllis, a gangly yet feisty old broad who lived in the duplex apartment beside her, had been quite understanding and compassionate of Caroline’s position. Because of Phyllis’s help, Caroline was able to put herself through school and work to keep everything afloat. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but she got the job done. And she did it without Neil or Susan.
Caroline rarely traveled back to Hawkins in the past four years. Some holidays, but that was it. Too much tension and whispering for her liking. Her mother and Neil didn’t seem to treat her the same after the big reveal. She and Max spoke frequently by phone, and Max had travelled to Pittsburgh multiple times for weeklong visits during the summer when she could. Sometimes on three-day weekends if there was a holiday or in-service day at school. It was harder now that Max was in college and working herself.
Caroline was glad that Max decided to live on campus. At least for three-quarters of the year she was out of that house. It wasn’t healthy. Surprisingly, Neil treated Billy’s room like a shrine. Everything remained untouched in case he came back. After everything he had done, and with all the turmoil between him and Billy, the son-of-a-bitch expected him to come back. Even after Caroline had to break her silence and say what he did to her, Neil wanted him to come back.
Maybe it was because no one could take a punch quite like Billy could. Her mother was a poor substitute, but she eventually learned to fill those shoes. Caroline tried. She tried to convince her mother to come with her. At the very least to let her take Max. Ever the dutiful wife, she stood firmly by Neil’s side. Hell, sometimes she laid firmly beneath his boot. It greatly strained their own relationship, especially when Susan started to parrot some of the things Neil would say about Billy and the situation Caroline found herself in.
Caroline tossed in her bed, limbs spasming as they tried to rouse her from her slumber. Her eyes fluttered and rolled. Sweat began to bead on her forehead and at the back of her neck.
She stood in the middle of a cemetery. Sky dark and gray with clouds, casting shadows over anything that stood. It was cold enough to see her breath, each inhalation stabbing her chest with the sharpness of the crisp air. Snow flurried around her. Large, uneven flakes drifted through the air slowly.
Caroline looked around her and noted the thick vines blanketing rows of tombstones. After a moment of studying, she held out her hand to catch one of the snowflakes. It landed in her palm without melting. She closed her palm against the substance, rubbing her fingers against the warm skin there before opening her hand back up. A grayish-black smudge was all that remained. She was back in that place.
Several yards ahead of her was a fresh grave. Dirt piled in a somewhat rounded mound suggested a new burial. Her heart hammered against the inside of her chest as she forced her feet forward to examine the headstone. Thin vines slivered over the headstone like a nest of snakes.
Stepping around the dirt, she kneeled on the ground beside the grave. The vines stilled, but there were too many of them to be able to read the engraved name. Caroline shivered and took in a shuddering breath as her hesitant hands reached forward and grabbed the vines. She pulled them apart, snapping them like dry twigs. They squeaked and squealed like a living creature being tortured. It made Caroline grimace, but she kept going.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands dropped into her lap as she stared at the name in capital letters. SUSAN HARGROVE. Caroline quickly crawled backwards until her back hit the tombstone one row behind. She sat on the hard, cold ground and closed her eyes, feeling tears coming.
Cancer was a motherfucker. She had been putting up a good fight for the past year and a half. Already thin and frail, the last time Caroline had seen her mother she looked more like a skeleton than the beautiful woman she knew her mother to be. Pale skin, short, thin hair that was struggling to grow back, cheekbones that looked like they could poke through her tissue-paper casing at any moment.
The sound of trickling perked up her ears. It was so close, yet she had not seen a water source nearby in the time she had taken in her surroundings. Her eyes flew open at the intruding sound.
She would have recognized those denim-clad legs and black biker boots anywhere. He stood as she always remembered him standing. Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight, and posture incredibly rigid. She saw the stream of liquid between his legs, hitting against the face of the tombstone as he relieved himself at her mother’s grave.
Caroline was frozen in place. She kept incredibly still, opting to hold her breath so that the sound of her inhaling and exhaling wouldn’t draw his attention. The obnoxiously loud thundering of her heart, though, would be a dead giveaway.
“That’s one way to have a homecoming, huh?” he called out while facing forward, away from her. He shook himself and appeared to fidget for a few seconds before the sound of a zipper signaled that he was done.
Billy turned around and smirked down at her. He looked exactly the same as she last remembered. Red button-down shirt, Saint Christopher pendant hanging from a long, golden chain necklace. His golden-brown hair was a tad messy, almost wind-blown, with the familiar stray curl hanging just above his right eye.
His eyes were dark, like a grayish black. His lips curled into a twisted smile as he looked down at her frozen form. His fingers stretched and then curled into fists at his side, repeating the motion several times before moving from where he stood. After he took one step towards her, Caroline finally came to her senses and started to move. She threw herself off to the side and began to crawl away until she had the strength to be able to lift herself to her feet.
“On your hands and knees is a good look for you, Caroline,” he said behind her. His voice was deep, smooth, and even. Not angry, not happy, but matter-of-fact.
Suddenly, a large vine whipped around her ankle and dragged her backward several feet. Losing her balance, her arms collapsed from underneath her. Nails filled with dirt as she struggled to crawl away, gripping onto whatever she could to try to pull herself from the tight grasp. Caroline rolled to her side and kicked at the vine, trying to push it off of her ankle as she looked up to see Billy leisurely walking in her direction, as calm and cool as he always was with the ladies.
Caroline yelped when another vine slithered over her and twisted tightly around her other ankle. She immediately sat up and began to pry at the vines as they pulled painfully tighter. Two more flew out from either side of her, wrapping around her wrists and forcing her to lay back flat, pinning her arms down against the cold, hard ground. She was in a spread-eagle position, squirming to try to move away, break free, anything!
Billy smiled, standing at her feet. “Isn’t that a pretty picture,” he smirked, holding his fingers up to pretend that he was framing her into a photo. His biceps bulged beneath his sleeves as he moved his arms.
Caroline cried and tried to kick, only succeeding in slightly bending her knees and making her black dress ride up higher towards her thighs. This was noticed right away by Billy as he took in a breath that sounded more like a hiss and bit his lip, shaking his head as his eyes focused on her trapped legs.
“Maybe I’ll keep you like this,” he pondered in a dreamlike state, seemingly looking through her.
Caroline finally drew a shaky breath into her aching lungs. With all her might, she screamed, “HELP! HELP ME!”
Billy came back to consciousness and smiled at her as he lowered himself to his knees between her legs. “Nobody’s gonna come for you,” he shook his head, crawling up the length of her body until he was face to face with her.
The deep voice that came out of his mouth was enough to still her. It was like him, but unlike him. He gently brushed the back of his fingers against her cheeks. He was ice cold to the touch. Even his breath was cold and made her shiver as it beat against her pale skin.
Caroline felt the ground rumble and shake beneath her in a pulsating pattern. Within seconds she heard thumping to match the quaking, steadily growing louder as it became closer and more distinguished. Billy slowly looked up and grinned when he saw it. A sudden burst of Paco Rabanne cologne hit her nose, dripping off his stretched, stubbly neck exposed in front of her. Curious to see what the noise and vibrations were coming from, what had him so happy, Caroline tilted her head back as far as it could go.
It was difficult to see in the darkness from that angle, but she saw a tall, bulky figure. At least two stories tall, with multiple, grotesque, uneven legs. Tentacles flailed about as it let out a loud, ear-piercing screech.
Caroline screamed and thrashed around beneath Billy, as much as she could while the vines gripped her forcefully. She looked away from the tall, monster-like mass and back at Billy. His once-perfect skin was now shrouded in black, spiny veins. Caroline gasped as she saw the darkness practically slither through his skin, entrenching his face, neck, chest, and arms.
He dove down closer to her, his breath biting at her lips as his thick brows furrowed and he snarled, “I’ll fucking kill them! I’ll kill them all!” in a deep, echoey voice.
“No!” Caroline shouted, closing her eyes and whipping her head back and forth in a failed attempt to get away from him. The screams from the beast behind her became louder, closer. The ground shook so violently as the monster…
She woke up to the sound of her alarm buzzing and beeping. Caroline’s eyes flew open as she took in a sharp breath and sat straight up. Drenched in sweat and shivering from the cold, Caroline looked at her arms and noted that they were free from restraint. She rolled to her side and slapped the button to her clock, eliminating the shrill sound as she looked at the bright red, blocky numbers that read 7:30.
Briefly, Caroline closed her eyes and brought her hand to her chest, feeling the rapid, heavy thuds of her heart, trying to comfort it to tell it to slow down. She took the slow, deep breaths that her therapist had taught her to take, curling her fingers around the soft duvet cover to remind her where she was. It helped a little. At least it allowed her to become aware of her surroundings and the fact that she was safe. There were no monsters, no Billy, no evil vines trying to capture her.
She opened her eyes again and licked her lips. Her mouth was parched. Dry and scratchy, she almost coughed as she took in another deep breath.
‘Nobody’s gonna come for you,’ he had shaken his head, so certain of the neighbors having been used to hearing screams and loud noises come from their house ever since they had moved in. She saw his face, the smile lines that emerged around his mouth and eyes as he cockily stated, ‘well I will,’ just before he lowered himself to nibble, lick, and suck on the skin at her neck and collarbone. He had been right. No one came for her.
‘Isn’t that a pretty picture,’ she remembered, as he stood in the doorway to her teenage bedroom in nothing but a pair of red boxer briefs. Smacking his gum between his teeth and framing her between his fingers, mocking her naked, helpless state as she struggled to free herself from the belt wrapped around her wrists.
‘Maybe I’ll keep you like this,’ he had calmly fantasized while sitting on the bed, gently stroking her hair back from her face and behind her ears.
Caroline struggled to keep with her paced breathing, clenching her eyes tightly shut as if that would somehow allow her to not see the images replaying in her mind like they had just happened. Without realizing, she rubbed at her wrists to sooth the phantom red indentations that his belt had made years ago. Images of him passed through her head like a damaged film reel, moving from one scene to the next in choppy, jerky motions.
Breathing became difficult as she remembered being pinned beneath his solid body, his large hand slapped against her mouth, pressing down hard on her lips and against her nostrils as she cried and screamed and begged for him to stop. How he had wrenched her arms behind her back just short of popping them out of their sockets to bind them together with his leather belt. His deep, growling voice threatening her that he was going to fuck her brains out, fill her up, feel her pussy around his cock, make her his.
She grimaced at the memories, whispering to herself, “No,” over and over again until it was loud enough to pull her to the present and she was able to open her eyes to see her bedroom at her Pittsburgh abode.
She stared across the room, allowing her eyes to register the light blue colored wall, different from the pink walls of her childhood. The window straight ahead of her instead of to her right. Her room now was completely different, and once she was able to understand that, her heart began to slow down and breathing started to stabilize.
Looking to her left at the nightstand where her alarm clock sat was the bottle of magic white pills and her glass of water. Always be prepared, she had learned. Nighttime was always the worst. Most mornings she awoke, needing to take her medication right away. Quickly, she reached for the bottle, took one of the pills out, and popped it into her mouth, immediately chasing it by chugging several mouthfuls of water.
More than twenty minutes had passed. As she stood at the stove, scrambling eggs and flipping sausage patties in the skillet, she wondered why she wasn’t yet feeling the effects of the medication. She bit her lip, trying not to cry. Doing her best to hold it all inside, to not let it overtake her.
It wasn’t just images from her dream. It was memories from real life. Seeing Billy in a dream always opened old wounds. Well, impossible, since those old wounds were never really fully healed. More like… picked the scabs off of her wounds and made them bleed again.
‘I wanted you from the first time I saw you,’ he had said to her the second time he raped her. ‘God, you feel so good. So fucking tight. All for me. Completely wreck you for Harrington.’ She closed her eyes as a tear threatened to fall. ‘What would King Steve think? Huh? Knowing that I fucked you.’ It had been five years since she had physically seen Billy in the flesh, but she heard his voice every damn day. ‘Caroliiiine.’
The sudden loud ringing of the wall phone made her jump out of her thoughts and back to the present moment. She looked up at the clock. It was only five past eight. The phone rang again, and Caroline wrinkled her brows, wondering who would be calling her so early in the morning. She didn’t have to be at work for almost another hour.
Turning the burners off, she set the spatula on the countertop and walked over to the corded phone, picking up in the middle of the third ring. “Hello?” she asked curiously.
“Caroline,” a voice that she did not want to hear stated her name like she was caught passing notes in school. “It’s Neil.”
“Neil,” Caroline sighed. “I’d say what a pleasant surprise, but it’s really not. What do you want?” She leaned her shoulder against the wall and placed her free hand on her hip, tapping her fingers impatiently.
A soft sigh on the other end could be heard followed by a pregnant pause. Neil was never speechless. He was always the man that had to have the last word. Children were to be seen, not heard. They had to show an infinite amount of respect to their elders. Backtalk resulted in a backhand.
“Look, I don’t have all day, alright?” Caroline shook her head and pushed away from the wall, ready to return the phone back to its resting place. “Call me back when you have something to say.”
As she started to move the earpiece away from her head, she heard Neil quickly say, “It’s your mother.”
This caught Caroline’s attention. Her mother had been sick for the better part of two years. She wondered if the cancer had finally spread further throughout her body.
She slowly brought the phone back to her ear. Hesitantly, Caroline asked, “What about her? Is she okay?”
Neil took in a deep breath and exhaled directly into the phone. It irritated Caroline’s ear, the staticky noise too close and loud. “Caroline, she…”
He paused again. Caroline waited with wide eyes, feeling the sting in her throat, nostrils, and eyes as her muscles constricted at the fear of what he was about to say. “She what?” her voice was meek.
Neil swallowed and, for the first time ever in the history of Caroline knowing him, struggled to find his words. “I… she… she’s gone.”
Caroline’s heart skipped a beat and her hearing suddenly became muffled. Everything suddenly seemed so far away. She didn’t feel connected to herself, to her own body. She heard the words that he said but at the same time felt like a zombie, unable to move or speak. She slumped against the wall, legs feeling like Jell-o as he continued.
“She passed away sometime in the night. I found her in bed this morning. She went peacefully in her sleep.” His voice sounded like it was about to crack. Neil, the military man— the man who would beat the shit out of his son, and then later turned his hands to his wife— was about to cry over her death. Probably because he has no one left to be his punching bag. “I need to make arrangements, but I wanted you to know. I… I know that you and I have had our differences over the years, but… I want you to know that you are welcome to stay here. I want you to come home.”
Caroline opened her mouth to speak. Her throat felt dry again. “Does,” she closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to lubricate her throat so she wouldn’t choke. A tear rolled down her cheek and dropped onto her shirt. “Does Max know?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he answered sympathetically. “She’s coming home later today. I’d like it… I think now is the time for family to be together.”
How dare he call himself family. The only family Caroline had left in Indiana was Max. Of course, she would be there for Max, but not for Neil. Never for Neil.
“Um,” Caroline took in a deep breath through her quivering lips. “I’ll need to call work and settle a few things here. I’ll try to be there by tomorrow. I’ll get a hotel—”
“Nonsense,” Neil cut her off with an offended tone. “There is plenty of room at the house. And there are some things of your mother’s that she wanted you to have in the event of… well, she just has some things here for you.”
She really didn’t want to stay on Cherry Lane. Being under the same roof as Neil? Staying in the same bedroom where her nightmares began? There was a reason why she had left. Several reasons, in fact. She didn’t want to feel indebted to Neil, but at the same time, it would save her money. Free room and board. And she would be able to spend more time with Max being under the same roof.
“I’ll think about it,” she told him, not entirely sure what would be the best thing to do.
Neil sighed with discontent but did not fight her on this. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Part of him sounded hopeful.
Caroline licked her dry lips. “Yeah,” she whispered.
“Okay, I’ll—”
Caroline returned the phone to the wall, not bothering to hear what else Neil had to say. After all these years and no apology, nothing he had to say was worth listening to.
This was always a call she had dreaded, ever since the first time the dreaded C-word came up in conversation. And yet, while Caroline was certainly sad and shocked to hear that her mother had passed away, her reaction was not as severe as what she would have imagined. The years of separation and arguing and pride had created a distance between them, more than any amount of miles between any two cities could have ever created. Caroline mourned the loss of her mother years ago when she stopped being Caroline’s mother and turned solely into Neil’s wife.
Caroline leaned against the wall and wiped at her face. She hugged herself tightly. A million thoughts flew through her mind: things she had to do, what she had to pack, who she had to notify (although, that would likely just be work and Phyllis).
Her dream. What were the odds that she would dream of her mother’s death on the same morning that it occurred? Sure, she had been sick for a while, but Caroline hadn’t maintained much contact with her. When she and Max spoke, Max had learned not to mention too much about Neil and their mother. Caroline just did not want to hear it. It had to have just been a coincidence, but it unnerved her, nonetheless.
Caroline chewed on her thumbnail, absentmindedly staring at the kitchen table. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped. Her hand rubbed all over her face as she let out a long, deep sigh. Her shoulders sank as the air in her lungs deflated her body.
“What’s the matter, Momma?” a sweet little voice asked as the blue-eyed, blonde, curly haired little boy entered the kitchen in his Care Bears pajamas.