open rp post/continuations

[slr]

hit me up for continuations or new stuff!

prompt ideas: insomnia meme | rain meme

Comments

[slr]

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. ]

[bestfeature]

Uh, what?

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

[slr]

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

A bobcat?

[bestfeature]

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

[slr]

Only if I have to.

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

[bestfeature]

Good. Don't.

[ He shakes his head. ]

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

[slr]

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. ]

[bestfeature]

[ "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.

[slr]

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. ]

[bestfeature]

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.

[slr]

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. ]

[bestfeature]

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?

[slr]

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.

[bestfeature]

[ 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. ]

[slr]

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?

[bestfeature]

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. ]

[slr]

[ 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. ]

[bestfeature]

[ 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.

[slr]

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. ]

[bestfeature]

[ If he was only mildly taken aback before, he's completely caught off guard now, whatever retort he'd planned on saying dying off in his throat. Steve can't argue with that, and he finds he doesn't really want to argue with that either.

Hell. ]

. . . christ, Byers.

[slr]

Guess that means I'm not wrong.

[ He'd told Nancy the same kind of thing, back before the Mindflayer had happened. He feels it, and he knows Nancy feels it, and it's not out of the picture to think that Steve's the same way. After all, he'd seen all of it for himself, too. ]

Sometimes it helps to talk about it.

[ You don't have to "be a man" about this, this shit is too real. ]

[bestfeature]

[ He's used to putting up a front, but the past year had been chipping away at that carefully crafted mask before Dustin Henderson rolled up and took a sledgehammer to it, for better or for worse. (for better, he knows.) "King Steve" knows what he's doing at all times; Steve Harrington has no goddamn clue. And Jonathan's right, he knows, but he can feel his stomach turning.

"Run away, like you always do—" ]

Yeah, well. I should.

[ Go. He should go, right? Because it's awkward as hell and why did he even try? Shit. ]

[slr]

[ Feet shifting awkwardly in his shoes, Jonathan doesn't know what he's doing, either. Here. He's just... talking. He will never not hate talking. But yeah, Steve should. Talk about it. Get it off his chest with someone who understands. The kids aren't an option, and while Jonathan has his mom, he doesn't want to burden her with it, even if she knows when they look each other in the eyes. Jonathan has Nancy. Who does Steve have?

Before he knows it, he's... volunteering? Jesus, Jonathan. ]

I. I'm just saying. If you want to.

[ "You know where I am." What is he doing? God.

He tries to cut the awkwardness down by trying to shut down the conversation. Tried and true Jonathan Byers methods here. ]

... Anyway, thanks for the ride.

[bestfeature]

[ No one, he has no one, but that's frankly better than what he had before, because his shithead friends ("friends") would have just laughed at him and told him to man up — if they didn't immediately question his sanity, anyway.

So it's like a lifeline being extended when Jonathan offers, and Steve . . . doesn't know what to do with it, exactly. His eyes flick between Jonathan, the car door, the seat, anywhere really, as conflicting thoughts race through his head. Had anyone ever really offered something like this before? Nancy had, once — that had managed to shake him out of his haze, pulling him out of the social pit he'd found himself in.

And just like that, he's moved on, and Steve exhales, lifting a hand to run it through his hair. They're cool. He's cool. He's fine. ]

Yeah, man. You know, any time. [ A beat. ] Seriously. Though next time? Pick somewhere better. In town? Populated? Come on.

[slr]

[ It's funny that Steve is already offering to go again. But it's a good sign. They're friends. Friendly. Whatever. Doesn't matter. This isn't a bad thing. ]

Yeah, yeah.

[ His fingers drum the roof of Steve's car, idly. ]

See ya.

[ And he closes the door, taking a couple of steps backwards, toward his own car sitting further along the parking lot. ]