open rp post/continuations

[slr]

hit me up for continuations or new stuff!

prompt ideas: insomnia meme | rain meme

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[slr]

[ As usual Jonathan is more keen on his surroundings. Steve's white knuckles. The way his eyes glance to the mirror. He feels anxious just being in the same car. Jesus. Jonathan chews on the inside of his lip, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. Nothing about this feels that right, and he's not sure it's Steve's behavior, the gashes on the wrecked car, or just the not-awkward awkwardness from him and Steve hanging out together. His body bleeds that awkward feeling too, Jonathan sort of slouched in the passenger seat. ]

You okay?

[ He feels like he should ask, though he sounds a little doubtful when he does. Because maybe he really shouldn't be. ]

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Huh?

[ He starts at that, like being snapped out of a spell. ]

— yeah. Yeah, man, yeah.

[ His shoulders slouch a bit as the tension leaks from him. They're away from that place. It's fine. Besides, those things are dead and gone. Never mind that he'd told himself the same thing about that creature last year; they're dead and gone. ]

Just— heh. Man, that place.

[ It's an awkward chuckle as he shakes his head. Steve knows he should stop talking, but that's always been his biggest flaw: he never can quite shut himself up. ]

It didn't feel right, you know?

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I know.

[ That reaction, wow. Part of Jonathan wonders if he's even paying attention to the road but Steve just keeps talking and talking (and yeah, he can't shut himself up). ]

Feel right or look right. I don't think that was junkies. It looked...

[ He brings his thumb to his lips, biting his nail. If it is what he thinks it is, when did it happen? ]

[bestfeature]

[ Fun fact: while he may have managed to cultivate a reputation for being a smooth talker, Steve Harrington has never been a very good liar. It was something both Tommy H and Carol needled him for endlessly, to his repeated mortification. It never occurred to him that it was actually a good trait to have, all things considered. He'd stumble over excuses before clamming up and deflecting. It just wasn't in him.

He grimaces inwardly as Jonathan's voice trails off. He should say something, right? Shit. He hadn't really thought of it since that long, long night, when the adrenaline had finally worn off and his face ached from Hargrove's fists. They were fine, right? It was stupid, to be feeling like this, and around Jonathan Byers, no less. ]

Looked . . . ?

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Like something an animal might do.

[ Jonathan had spent enough time in the woods to tell that sort of thing, and well, he'd seen what those damn monsters were capable of. But he doesn't like, make it specific. He's just musing right now. Jonathan shoves his hands in his lap, staring out at the darkening sky. ]

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Maybe it was a bear or something.

[ It comes out before he can really think about it but, in fairness, most things do. ]

Shit. Can the Chief deal with bears?

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Probably, but I think I could, too.

[ He has a spare bear trap in his shed. After everything, you can't be too careful. ]

Looked smaller than that, though. Maybe a bobcat or something?

[ And that still didn't feel right either. ]

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Uh, what?

[ Is Nancy rubbing off on Jonathan already? Or did he not hear that right? ]

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[ This time he glances at Steve out of the corner of his eye. ]

A bobcat?

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Tell me I didn't hear you talking about going after a bear, Byers.

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Only if I have to.

[ He's weird but he's not crazy. ]

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Good. Don't.

[ He shakes his head. ]

Shit looked old, anyway. We can just tell the Chief and leave it at that.

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Yeah, and what if it's something else?

[ "Something else." Old or not, it's still concerns him. He doesn't need this shit to come after his family again. ]

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[ "Something else," indeed. He can feel two sides of him duking it out inside — the part of him that never wants to even think about anything upside-down-y again, pushing away all of those intrusive thoughts, and the part of him that wants to relent and vomit out all of the anxiety that's been building up while also keeping him out of trouble and from perpetuating any misunderstandings.

He lets out a small grunt of frustration after a moment. ]

It's old.

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Old doesn't mean gone.

[ He glances away, out the door window. it's too late to develop the photos tonight, unfortunately, but he's still tempted, if the school's still open. He rubs his hands against his jeans, not quite able to shake the suspicion of more. He doesn't wanna push Steve - doesn't really know if Steve knows anything or if he's just trying not to go down this road again. Because frankly, this road sucks. ]

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I was down in that tunnel, Byers.

[ Which is something else, really, and he can't even begin to imagine how those kids managed. They'd all been in way over their heads. ]

I saw them leave. And the Chief saw them die.

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I know that. But I still can't look at that and not wonder.

[ God, it's been months. But it's not like it hadn't been months before, and something was still hanging around from the original demogorgon. It's not... completely out of nowhere. ]

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Jesus . . .

[ It's muttered, almost a sigh, like of course he'd wonder. His kid brother got taken by the big one. But still, he'd said it was old.

He pulls into the school parking lot, shaking his head. ]

I just— it's old, you know?

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Fine, it's old. But why there? What happened?

[ He sighs, shaking his head. This is getting to him and he hates it. Jonathan just pops open the door. ]

Never mind.

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[ His fingers curl around the steering wheel. Why? He's been asking that every day for the past year and some change. ]

Because a couple of dipshits lured one there and got in way over their heads.

[ His jaw sets, like he's ready for a fight. ]

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What?

[ He tosses a glance over his shoulder as he's about to leave, but ultimately turns back. ]

Jesus, Steve...

[ Maybe he'd said something. Jonathan had been too deep in his plans with Nancy and then Will and Mom, but... holy shit. ]

Why didn't you say something? I didn't... I wouldn't have asked you to go?

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Whatever, Byers. It's fine? Like I said, it's old. No point in dragging it up now.

[ He leans over, reaching across the seat to pull the passenger's side door shut. ]

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[ Jonathan's hand between the door and car frame stops the door from shutting. He pulls it open slightly, leaning on the car. He echoes an earlier sentiment: ]

Old doesn't mean gone.

[ His fingers curl on the door frame, pressing hard against the metal. ]

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[ He pulls his hand away, taken aback by his movement, and lets it fall down against the seat cushion. Steve sucks in a bit of air, collecting himself as he looks back up at Jonathan, eying him flatly. ]

They're gone, man. They're dead as hell.

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Dead, yeah. Gone, no. They'll always be there, weighing down on you.

[ They haunt them. Every day they remember or revisit something that reminds them of what happened. Doesn't matter how much time passes. Jonathan still sometimes wakes up feeling like it just happened yesterday. Everytime he looks at Will and knows he'll never be the same kid brother he used to be. ]