sleep paralysis

warning: this chapter contains homophobia, extreme violence, and character death as part of a dream. please proceed with caution.

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

Gabe stood in the back hallways of Starcourt Mall, clutching a knife in each hand. His chest heaved; sweat dripped down his forehead. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and his face was slightly bruised, remnants of multiple earlier attacks. Beside him stood Max, Mike, and El, their faces milk-white with fear, shudders trembling down their bodies as they awaited the threat that was slowly making its way towards them.

The footsteps drew closer and closer, and with them grew the speed of Gabe's rapidly beating heart. He was paralyzed, his limbs frozen solid, unable to do anything but stand there, open-mouthed, and prepare for what was coming.

It didn't take long.

Billy Hargrove rounded the corner, black streaks crawling up his arms. His hair was matted to his face, burns glistened on his bare skin, and his face was twisted into a snarl. His eyes were two pools of black hatred, and, even from a distance, Gabe could see his terrified face reflected in their pupils.

Move, he thought. His legs refused.

"Billy," Max tried, her voice trembling. "Billy, you don't have to do this. Billy. Your name's Billy, Billy Hargrove. You live on 4819 Cherry Lane. Billy, please, I'm Max, I'm your—"

Billy struck her across the face, sending her flying. Gabe let out a whimper when she finally collapsed, her braids cutting across her cheeks. Her skin was milk-white, bleached under her freckles. Her eyes were open but clouded over—the blue of her irises had turned glassy. She lay completely still, without even the slightest twitch. Her chest refused to rise and fall.

No.

No, no, no, no, no—

"Max!" Mike shouted, lunging towards Billy. Gabe wanted to join him, wanted to scream, wanted to do anything but stand here, but he was completely immobile, trapped in place. Which meant that he could do nothing but watch as Billy slammed Mike's head against the wall. There was a sickening crack, and Mike was the next to fall.

He did so without a chunk of his skull.

Blood pooled underneath his unmoving body; his limbs splayed across the ground like a doll's. And Gabe still couldn't move, even though Mike was dead, even though Billy had killed him just like he had killed Max, just like he would kill him and El and Will and Alina and Lucas and everyone—

El screamed, flinging her arm out, but she was powerless, she was vulnerable, and Billy got to her easily. He seemed to be toying with Gabe, deliberating ignoring him, going after everyone he loved most first. Maybe it had been him who had cast this spell of stillness over Gabe, who kept him encased in a block of ice, of stone. Maybe he wanted Gabe to watch.

A strong hand clasped over El's neck. El wheezed, clawing at them, her legs kicking desperately as Billy lifted her across the ground. And suddenly, he was seven feet tall, casting a shadow over them all, and El was getting smaller and smaller within his grasp.

She turned her head desperately, casting a frantic look at Gabe. And, somehow, without moving her mouth, without doing anything but wheeze, she managed to scream, "Do something!"

Gabe couldn't. Not even when Billy broke her neck.

Her head was twisted almost backwards when Billy finally let her go. Gabe screamed, and he sobbed, and he writhed against the hold, but he also did nothing. He couldn't do anything.

And now, it was his turn.

"Gabriel," Billy hissed, his voice overlapping with another, more sinister tone. "You did this, Gabriel."

No, no, no, I didn't, this isn't how it's supposed to go, I'm supposed to fight back—

"You've always been a coward, Gabriel. And you always will be."

No, no, no, I'm not, I'm not—

"Because you're weak."

Billy seemed to be growing even further. Or was Gabe getting smaller?

"And selfish."

The darkness spread over Billy's eyes, covering both iris and white until nothing was left but dark voids. Blood streaked down from where his tear ducts would be, cutting bright red paths down his mottled skin, and it reminded Gabe all too much of the blood of his friends, the stains they left behind, because they were dead, they were all dead, and it was all Gabe's fault—

"And a fucking queer."

"Gabe!"

A familiar—an all too familiar—voice cut into Gabe's ears, and he whimpered again. No, no, no. He couldn't be here. He shouldn't be here. This wasn't how things were supposed to go!

Will! he screamed, unable to open his mouth. Will!

"Oh, God, help me, Gabe!"

Please not him please not him no no no no no—

There was an earthshattering scream. A scream so horrible, so heart-wrenching, that it cut right into Gabe's soul. A scream so bloodcurdling that he would be hearing it for years to come.

And then the sickening sound of a knife cutting into flesh.

Blood rained down on Gabe, a torrential downpour, covering every inch of him. It splattered across his face, sunk into his clothes, and clogged up his nose and mouth. It smothered him, drowned him, until he could see nothing but red. The world might as well have been painted in that colour.

Please no please please please I can't I can't I can't—

"You did this," Billy whispered. "You killed them all."

And when vines—vines like the ones that had latched onto him in the Upside Down tunnels under Hawkins, vines that had carved those deep welts into Gabe's legs—curled over his throat, he didn't even bother fighting back. Because wasn't this what he deserved?

It is, Gabriel.

It is.

Gabe woke up drenched in sweat, his heart running a marathon within his chest. For a moment, he couldn't remember anything—where he was, what had just happened, whether or not his friends were dead—but could still feel the tight yank of the vines around his throat and the slimy cadences of Billy's voice. Over and over, he watched his friends slumped to the ground, dead. Over and over, he stared into Billy's eyes and knew that everything that happened was his fault.

"Gabe! Gabe! Jesus, Gabe!"

His fault his fault his fault his fault his fault—

"Calm down! You just had a nightmare. You're fine."

It took Gabe an embarrassingly long time to recognize the voice that was far too close to his ear. It wasn't Billy's—it was far too high-pitched for that, even with the recent bout of puberty its owner had gone through. It was annoying, and overdramatic, and, most of all... familiar.

Mike. Who was sitting beside him on... a plane?

Oh, right.

Gabe's cheeks seemed to be set ablaze as he assessed his current situation. He wasn't in Starcourt Mall anymore—of course not, because it had burned down last year. The Mind Flayer was gone, and Billy with it. His friends had all survived, and things had moved on, and he was now on an incredibly early flight to Laurel Hills, California.

Everything was fine. It had just been a dream.

An awfully realistic dream, but still.

Gabe was sitting in the window seat, which meant that Mike, in the aisle, was pressing him in. Obviously, when booking the flight, Karen and Dolores had made sure they had seats together—something about wanting to keep friends together. Unfortunately, at the moment, it was the last thing Gabe needed—and not because he'd been so annoyed with Mike lately. There just wasn't enough space. There wasn't enough air. Gabe couldn't breathe.

"Hey. Hey. Gabe, you back with me?"

Gabe, still panting, clutching at his chest, turned to meet Mike's concerned gaze. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his skin was a shade lighter than normal, and he was wearing this stupid outfit that he seemed convinced was the norm in California. But he was alive, because he'd only been dead in Gabe's dream. It wasn't real.

"I'm—I'm okay," Gabe got out. "I'm—I'm... yeah."

"Okay, good, because you scared the shit out of me," Mike said. "You were totally freaking out, and I was trying to wake you up but you weren't waking up, and when I finally did, you still seemed half in it." He cleared his throat. "But, um... are you okay?"

Gabe turned his head away. "Yeah," he muttered. "Just a nightmare."

It wasn't like he hadn't had one of those before.

"Are you sure?" Mike asked. "Because it really looked like—"

"I'm fine," Gabe snapped. "Seriously. I'm good."

"Okay. Whatever you say, man. But, uh, we're about to land, so..."

"Oh. Okay."

They were here, at least. Laurel Hills. At the airport where Gabe would see Will, his adorable boyfriend who was alive. Gabe dug his nails in his palms and continued to tell himself that. It had just been a dream. Just a dream.

He kept that as a constant refrain in his mind as the plane landed and the passengers began filing their way off. Even so, a shudder continued to buzz its way down his spine, and his eyes stung, like he was about to cry.

Things were only alleviated when he and Mike stepped out of the terminal, lugging their suitcases with them, and Gabe met the eyes of his boyfriend.

Will had cut his hair a little shorter, but it remained in the same bowl-cut style he'd had since before Gabe had met him. He was wearing a blue flannel button-down that reminded Gabe of his own style, and cream pants. A cardboard tube was in his hands, and he kept fiddling with it, his fingers twitching. A grin stretched from ear to ear.

God. Gabe had missed that smile.

"Gabe!" Will shouted, springing to his feet. Gabe shoved away all thoughts of his boyfriend screaming, begging Gabe to help him, and instead surged forward, throwing his arms open. Will fell into them, clutching him tight, running his hands up and down his back. "Oh, my God, I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Gabe said, resisting the urge to settle his head onto his boyfriend's shoulder. Beside him, El and Mike had fallen into a kiss, but they were allowed to do that. Meanwhile, Gabe and Will couldn't even hold hands in public. "It's been too long."

This is real. Just think about this. Not the dream.

Gabe and Will broke apart after a moment, knowing that they needed to seem like nothing more than friends. Mike was now presenting El—whose hair had gotten a lot longer since Gabe had last seen her—with a bouquet of hand-picked flowers, but Gabe couldn't pull out his own gift for Will here. So, he just shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled awkwardly until Mike finally looked away from his girlfriend.

"Hey. How you doing?" he greeted Will, pulling him into a side-hug. Gabe turned to El, who he'd never been close with, and offered a tentative smile. Fortunately, she returned it.

"Hey, Gabe. Hey, Mike," Jonathan greeted. He and Will were practically the same height, now, which was insane. Gabe couldn't resist hugging him, too.

Mike just nodded at him. "Hey, how you doing?"

"Yeah, good, man."

"Great. Uh, what's that?" Mike gestured to the cardboard tube in Will's hand.

Will swallowed, his eyes darting to Gabe's. "Um, it's nothing. Just this painting I've been working on."

"That's really cool, Will!" Gabe praised. "Can I see it?"

"Later," Will promised. That was good enough for Gabe.

"That's a rad shirt, man," a new voice interjected. Gabe blinked, realizing there was someone else present—a boy around Jonathan's age, with long, black hair and a colourful cap. He kept his slightly red eyes glued to Mike as he spoke. "Ocean Pacific?"

"Oh, hey, Mike, Gabe," Jonathan said. "This is, uh, my friend Argyle."

"Nice to meet you," Gabe greeted.

"Oh. Hey."

Mike offered a hand for Argyle to shake, but instead, he wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his collar. "Oh, no, no, no," he said, letting go of Mike. "No, it's a shitty knockoff. Yeah." As Mike looked down self-consciously at his shirt, Argyle continued, "But don't sweat it, man. I'll get you the good threads out here."

Mike just stared. Gabe cleared his throat.

"I heard a lot about your sister," Argyle added.

Jonathan shifted in place. "Uh. O-okay. Um, should we go?"

"Yeah, this is kinda awkward, man."

"Yeah, so awkward," Mike agreed, putting an arm around El's shoulders.

The couple started off, and the others had no excuse but to follow. Gabe and Will stayed close together, their shoulders occasionally brushing together, while Jonathan walked with Argyle, who was still muttering about Ocean Pacific.

Gabe resisted the urge to take Will's hand, and instead focused on counting his own breaths. Now that he was with Will again, he was feeling a little better, but the nightmare still rattled him to his core. He'd been having a lot of them in the recent weeks, but this had definitely been the worst. He could still feel the blood plaster to his skin.

As they headed for the airport's exit, El babbled on to Mike, a grin lighting up her face. "I have our whole day planned. First El Rodeo for burritos."

"What, really?" Mike asked. "Burritos for breakfast?"

"Yes. Trust me."

"Yeah, no, I... I trust you. It's just, you know, it's a little weird."

"It's actually really good," Will whispered to Gabe. Gabe gave him a thumbs-up.

"Then, after burritos, I want to go to Rink-O-Mania," El continued.

"Rink-O-Mania, okay," Mike said. "What's... what's Rink-O-Mania?"

"It's the most fun place in Lenora. They have skating and games."

"Okay, that sounds awesome. Are your friends gonna meet us there?"

"Friends?" Will asked. "What... what friends?"

El slapped him across the chest with her bouquet. "You know, Stacy and Angela."

"Angela?"

"Huh?" Gabe asked. "Alina said in her letters—"

"You'll meet them, I promise," El interrupted. "Just not today. I want today to be about me and you."

Mike smiled and kissed her forehead. Gabe turned to Will.

"I have heard many things about this Angela, but never that she and El were friends," he whispered. "Alina told me she was a massive bitch. I mean, she used more eloquent words than that, but the message was there. She said that she's been bullying her and El all year. Unless she's talking about a different Angela? Is there another Angela in your class?"

Will shook his head. "Nope."

"Oh."

"And El doesn't... um. She doesn't have any friends? Besides you and Alina?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Angela and her friends literally broke her history project yesterday. Alina punched her in the jaw for it. It was pretty awesome."

"Is Alina okay?" Gabe asked, glad to have a distraction. "I mean, mentally, not physically. Judging by her letters, she seems to have been struggling lately, and I just want to know if she's okay. Since, you know, I can't see her this week."

Will looked down. "She's been having a rough time. I don't think she ever got over being forced to move. She hasn't been doing her schoolwork, she's seemed angrier than usual, and she really misses Lucas. I hope seeing him again makes her feel better. She was kind of worrying me."

"Oh," said Gabe. "Um, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Will put a hand on Gabe's shoulder, then immediately retracted it. "Um. Anyway. When we—when we get home, I have something to give you."

Gabe smiled. "So do I," he said, thinking about the package in his suitcase. "Get ready, Byers, because it is going to blow you away."

When Will laughed, everything seemed as if it should be right again. But it wasn't. Because, despite Gabe's best efforts, the nightmare still remained. Will's blood still clung to his skin. 

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

A/N: oh boy oh boy oh boy. um. i don't know what to say about this chapter except that it was super difficult for me to write, i'm sorry for the angst, and i hope you forgive me, because i gave you guys the gill reunion :) i hope this keeps you fed before you get the sinclairgrieves reunion, because that isn't coming until episode four lmao. but i promise there's lots of content coming in the future!!

(also chapter eleven is one of my favourite gill chapters ever, so :))))

sorry for the trauma. there's plenty more to come <33

'till next time!