YOU DO KNOW THE EAGLES AREN'T ACTUALLY EAGLES, RIGHT?

☆︎ SEPTEMBER 25TH, 1996 ☆︎

"Just go over it one last time for me," Sheriff Burke requested.

Indiana refrained from rolling her eyes. It was one in the fucking morning, and the police had been questioning her for an hour and a half.

After being treated by the ambulance workers that got Casey down from the tree and took her and Steve off in body bags, they treated the cut on Indiana's forehead and sent her to the police station. Virginia was called from the hospital, as they couldn't question a minor without her guardian present.

With one of those thick blankets wrapped around her, Sheriff Burke, Dewey, and Virginia all listened to Indiana's account of the night — Mrs. Becker tried but she couldn't stomach the details while Mr. Becker left after she got through it all the first time.

"He called the house repeatedly. We thought he was some loser that wanted to talk to someone. But then he said he was watching me through the window, so I hung up and went back to Casey in the kitchen to tell her. I was supposed to leave but I told her I was going to stay until her parents got home after that. We locked all the doors. He kept calling and then rang the doorbell. The next time he called, we tried to scare him off by threatening him, but he knew Casey's boyfriend wasn't coming because he already had him tied up on the patio. He made Casey answer these movie questions, and when she got one wrong, he killed Steve. When he asked her what door he was at, he said we'd live if she got it right. But Casey told him she wasn't going to answer, so he threw a chair through the patio doors. I pushed Casey ahead of me to run and went to follow, but I tripped over the coffee table. I guess I hit my head because the next thing I know, Mr. Becker is shaking me awake and Casey is gone."

Indiana sounded fairly emotionless as she recounted the night. She didn't need to go into detail, as she'd done that twice already, repeating the phone call nearly word for word for the police report. The only thing she didn't tell them about was the masked killer standing over her — it was odd enough that he didn't kill her when she was knocked out. But to have spoken with her before leaving her behind to chase after Casey? It looked bad. Suspicious.

"And why were you at the Becker house tonight if you weren't friends?"

Indiana refrained from rolling her eyes. "She was hiring my band to play her Halloween party. I was there to talk about the details and have her give me a deposit."

"But Halloween is a month away," Dewey told her with a confused frown.

"People have been asking since last Halloween for us to play their parties. We're kind of a big deal in Woodsboro," she told him, crossing her arms defensively.

"Right," the sheriff said, looking at his paper full of details. "And your band is called The Woodsboro Killers?"

"Yeah."

"Well, why would you call yourself that if—"

"Oh, my god," Virginia interrupted Dewey's dumb question, letting out a laugh of disbelief. Between him and the sheriff, she couldn't believe people this stupid were in law enforcement. "It's a band name! You do know the Eagles aren't actually eagles, right? Besides, Casey was still alive and on the phone when the Beckers got home and found my sister."

"You don't really think I had anything to do with this, do you?" Indiana asked, looking between the two men. But even Dewey was chewing on his lip and avoiding eye contact. That hurt. "Dewey?"

"It's not that, Indiana," he told her softly. Dewey had always been kind to her, even before starting something with Virginia. "But, well, with your record, you can understand why Sheriff Burke is concerned. Especially with the... similarities."

"Oh, I get it," Indiana said coldly. "I saw my parents die and killed the guy who did it to save my life, so that must mean I've snapped and went on a killing rampage a year and a half later."

"Well, your file from Dr. Swain notes that you are desensitized to violence and—"

"Are we done here?" Virginia interrupted, just as angry as her sister was. Her sister's mental health had nothing to do with catching the actual killer.

"For now," Sheriff Burke said, sighing heavily. When Indiana stood from her chair, he looked at her. "The voice, you said you remember it well?"

"I don't think I could ever forget it," she told him, glad that he wasn't focusing on her anymore.

"If we get any suspects, we may call you to try and identify them by their vocals," he told her. "But you are free to go. An officer will follow you home."

"Thank you," Virginia told him, at the very least, happy that they were sending some kind of protection. She was worried about the killer coming back to finish her sister.

It took a few more minutes to sign out at the station and wait for the two officers that would be following the sisters home. But finally, Indiana and Virginia stepped into the cool night air.

Virginia had hugged Indy as soon as she rushed into the police station, but she did it again in the parking lot, squeezing her tight to make sure she was really there. She couldn't lose her sister after only just getting used to not having their parents around.

"I'm okay," Indiana promised, her words muffled by Virginia's shirt. Then she took in a deep, shaky breath. "I'm fine. I'm alive."

"I love you, Gremlin," Virginia mumbled into her hair.

Indiana managed a small smile. "Love you too, Goblin."

After the short touching moment, the two sisters got into Virginia's car to go home. She wouldn't be going back to finish her shift at the hospital. And now that they weren't out in the open where anyone could hear, Virginia cleared her throat.

"Okay, don't get mad and know that this comes from my heart," she began, glancing between the road and her sister. "Indy, I need you to be honest with me so that I can help. Did you kill Casey Becker?"

Indiana gaped at her sister, recalling how she'd been insulted mere minutes ago by the police insinuating the same thing. "How could you ask me that?"

Virginia shrugged. "I mean, it's not as if you haven't ever stabbed someone to death before," she said, giving her a look.

"Yeah, but there's a big fucking difference between self-defense and hanging a girl from a tree by her guts!" she grumbled while leaning back into her seat. "No, I didn't kill Casey. She was about to write a check for nearly a thousand dollars. I would've waited until after Halloween if I wanted to kill her."

"Fair point," she mused. "But I can tell you kept something from the Sheriff and Dewey — don't even try to give me that look, Indiana." Virginia knew her sister all too well, and knew her subtle tells of lying. "This is serious, so what did you leave out?"

"I didn't hit my head," she mumbled quietly while watching the sleepy town pass in a blur through her window. "I did trip on the coffee table, but I didn't knock myself out. He grabbed my ankle then got on top of me, keeping me down. He said that - that it wasn't time for whatever he wanted me for. But he couldn't have me getting in the way. So he smashed my head and knocked me out before going after Casey."

"What he wants you for?" Virginia asked, her eyes wide. "Like, he's fucking coming back for you?"

"Sounds like."

"And you didn't tell the police because?"

"Because of what you just fucking asked me, Virginia! They already think I'm a suspect or accomplice in all this. It looks bad that I survived, and you know it. The killer taking time out of chasing Casey to talk to me? Mega suspicious!" Indiana didn't feel bad about lying, and Virginia couldn't change that.

Though she was upset that Indiana withheld the small detail, Virginia understood. She sighed heavily and nodded her head. She'd been there for the whole fallout of their parents' deaths — Indiana had been treated differently after word got out. It was the whole reason they moved across the country, so neither girl wanted to repeat what happened.

"We're moving a weapon into every room," Virginia told her firmly. "And if you feel like you need to talk to Dr. Swain because of this, don't ignore it."

"I don't need to go back," Indiana assured her. She'd practically skipped out of the psychiatrist's office after her last mandatory visit and she wasn't itching to return.

Yet, at least.

But she'd probably go for the rest of her life once this Ghostface business was over and done with.

☆

When they got home, Indiana ignored her closed bedroom door and went right to the shower. Virginia had her toss her clothes in the hall so that she could throw them away — no way was Indiana ever wearing those again.

Indiana had to be careful washing her hair, both because there were still little broken pieces of glass that she had to pick out and because of the cut above her eyebrow that was held closed with butterfly bandages. Thankfully, the other cuts on her arms and legs from falling into the table were shallow and stopped bleeding minutes after she got them.

The girl tiredly shuffled into her room with a fluffy pink towel wrapped around her form and flicked on the light once she was inside.

She let out a startled shriek when she saw two large figures perched on her bed. Of course, it died on her lips when she realized it was just Billy and Stu. The taller of the two put his hands up innocently, not intending to startle her.

"Woah, chill out, Indy—"

Stu was cut off by Virginia running into Indiana's bedroom, wielding the ancient bat that she used when she played softball in high school. She was fully ready to bash in Ghostface's head, only to see the two idiots that were always trailing after her little sister.

"How did you get in here?" Virginia asked them, raising a pointed eyebrow while lowering the bat.

Billy nodded to the open window with a confused expression while Stu spoke up. "I just got to Billy's after leaving Tate's house. We saw the police car pull up with you guys and wanted to see what was up."

"Movies are right. Cops are useless," she grumbled while rubbing her forehead. Then she looked at Indiana. "Do you want me to make them leave?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. If anything, she felt safer with the two boys in her room. "It's okay. You can go to sleep."

"Yeah, like I'm getting any sleep tonight," she said, rolling her eyes. Then Virginia looked at the boys, squinting at them. "If a freak in a Halloween costume comes through that window, you both need to murder the shit out of him, okay?"

"Wh - what?" Billy asked, looking at her in disbelief.

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am," Stu said, saluting Virginia rather than ask questions.

"I don't care how long you're here, but be quiet when you get up to go to school if you stay all night. Indy isn't going—"

"Yes, I am!" Indiana said, spinning on her heel to look at the sister. "I'm not staying home."

Virginia peered at her sister and grabbed the sides of her head, bringing her closer. "Oh, my god. That freak gave you a concussion, didn't he? I should've checked you over, not those dipshits on the ambulance."

"I don't have a concussion," Indiana said while pushing her sister off. She also tightened the towel around her. "But I don't want to make a thing out of all this."

"Um, it's a big fucking thing—"

"Well, I don't want it to be, Virginia. So, just let me go to school," she asked, clearly annoyed and not wanting to have this argument half-naked in front of her friends. "This is not gonna be North Carolina all over again, okay?"

Even though Virginia knew her little sister has no real control over how the uncertain future would play out, she caved. "Fine. But I'm taking you to school—"

"But—"

"It's me or Dewey in the cruiser with the lights on. We both know you don't want that humiliation with how much you make fun of Tatum for it," Virginia interrupted smugly.

"Fine," Indiana grumbled as if it was some big inconvenience for her sister to care about her.

Virginia moved to leave the room but then glanced back at the two boys that were still present. She leaned in close to Indiana to whisper to her. "No strenuous activities until the head wound heals."

She looked at her in confusion. "Strenuous activi — go away, Virginia!" Indiana snapped, realizing what her sister was getting at. She shoved her out of her room and shut the door.

"Okay," Stu said, looking at her pointedly with a soft smile. "Why's your sister being so weird? And what's up with the police?"

Indiana had done a really good job of not getting emotional during the whole ordeal. She'd remained level-headed in Casey's house. She didn't cry at the sight of the dead bodies. She didn't freak out on the police. But seeing the caring looks on Stu and Billy's faces did it for her.

Before either knew what was happening, Indiana was across the room, throwing her arms around Stu. The larger boy instantly hugged her tightly, letting her burrow her face in his chest.

"Hey, what's up? What's wrong, sunshine?" he asked softly while rubbing a hand up and down her back comfortingly.

"Casey Becker and Steve Orth are dead," she whispered into his shirt, knowing both boys could hear. "Some guy in a mask attacked the house while I was there figuring out plans for the band."

"Holy shit," Stu breathed out. "Dead, like... like—"

"Like dead, Stu," Indy said flatly while pulling her head back to look up at him. "Guts on the floor, hanging from a tree like a tire swing, dead. Like, I know I fucking hated them, but it was brutal to be there when it all happened."

"Did he fucking touch you?" Billy asked, his eyes narrowed. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay, Billy," she told him softly, seeing the concern in his eyes.

Stu saw it as well and passed her along to the shorter boy, letting him look her over. With one arm around her waist, he used his free hand to grab her chin and tilt her face toward him. His eyes were on the cut above her eyebrow.

Of course, Indiana was completely unaware that the boy tenderly cupping her jaw was the very one responsible for the cut. It had been Billy the whole time, standing over her body and dragging the tip of the knife across her skin teasingly — he just couldn't fucking help himself. But now, the adrenaline had worn off, and he felt guilty.

But not so guilty that he wouldn't take advantage of how she was finally letting herself be close to him again. She wasn't shying away from his touch or telling him to get lost.

And all it took was two little murders — he couldn't wait to see how she'd be after a few more.

"You're safe with us," Billy promised her, tracing his thumb gently over the cut.

She smiled adoringly up at him. "I know."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Stu asked her gently.

Indiana shook her head and moved toward the taller boy, leaning against him again. "No, not tonight, at least. I'm sure I'll be more exciting to talk to tomorrow after I get some sleep."

As she was speaking, Billy moved to her dresser to find something for her to change into — Indy standing in just a towel was killing him. He found the correct drawer for sleep attire on the first try and was delighted to find a familiar shirt folded neatly inside. A shirt he hadn't seen for almost exactly one year.

"Here," Billy said, bringing the shirt, his shirt, over. "We'll stay and make sure not scary murderers get you."

"Thanks," she said, pulling out of Stu's hold. "Turn around."

Suddenly, Stu bent over to rest his chin on Indy's shoulder, speaking teasingly in her ear. "Fine, but it's nothing Billy Boy hasn't seen before." Then he pressed a quick kiss to her neck.

Indiana's cheeks turned red. She'd learned months ago that Stu knew all about what she'd done with Billy the night Maureen died. And he loved to tease her about it, living for how she'd blush and sputter and whine for him to stop.

Billy just raised an amused eyebrow, trying his best not to smirk and piss her off even more — he'd figured he'd done enough back at the Becker house.

Maybe it was because she was still full of adrenaline, or maybe it was because Billy's stupid smirk he was failing to hide, or maybe even because of the short kisses Stu kept sneaking onto her skin, but suddenly, Indiana's towel was on the floor as she grabbed the t-shirt.

"Oh, shit!" Stu exclaimed, letting out a little laugh while raking his eyes down her body appreciatively.

Despite the dark, wanting look in Billy's eyes, he still couldn't help but let out a disbelieving huff of amusement. This was a thousand times better than her ignoring his existence like she had been last year.

"Now you're even, and Stuart can stop teasing me about it," Indiana told the boys with a pointed look.

"I mean, if you really want us to be even, then I should get to—"

Billy smacked Stu on the back of his head, making Indiana laugh as she walked over to get a pair of underwear. Her back was to them as she slipped them on, and by the time she turned around, Stu had kicked his shoes off and gotten comfortable on her bed.

Stu looked at her with a goofy smile and pat the free space next to him. "Well, come on. Best way to protect you from psycho freaks is by holding you in my totally ripped and muscular arms."

Indiana giggled before going over and diving head-first onto her bed, bouncing a few times as she landed next to him. Billy stood on his own for a moment, one of his rare, genuine smiles on his face as he stared at the only two people he actually cared about.

"Last one in has to turn out the light," Indiana instructed while laying her head on Stu's shoulder. "That's the official sleepover in Indy's room rule."

☆︎

It wasn't the easiest thing to fit three fairly tall people in a full-sized bed, but the three of them still managed. When Virginia entered Indiana's room, she swore the spirit of their deceased mother possessed her for five minutes because she dashed off to grab a Polaroid camera to take a photo of the three of them.

Stu was on the right and up against the headboard, his sock-clad toes barely hanging over the end. He had one arm under his neck and the other curled around Indiana, keeping her pressed firm against his chest. The comforter was basically on the floor, giving Virginia a clear view of Billy, who was asleep with his head on Indy's stomach on the left side of the bed. One of her hands was resting in his hair, a clear sign that she'd fallen asleep while combing her fingers through it. All their legs were intertwined, one giant mess of cuddling teenagers.

Three photos were taken before Virginia actually woke them all up, dramatically throwing open Indiana's curtains to let in sunlight. "Wake up and get your hands off my sister!"

A series of sleepy groans sounded as the three began to wake up — it had been a long night, what with the murder and all.

"Five more minutes," Stu whined while throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Up, Stuart," Indiana mumbled tiredly while pushing his arm off of her. Then she shook Billy's shoulder, who only tightened his arms around her hips to hug her closer. "Free me."

"No, never," he said softly with a little smile on his face.

"Gross," Virginia said, scrunching up her face at the affection. "Either go out the way you came or swing by the kitchen and grab a biscuit on the way out. I know Mr. Loomis doesn't exactly make an effort when it comes to feeding you."

Mentioning his father did dampen Billy's good mood from waking up next to Indiana but he also appreciated Virginia's offer. His father wouldn't even be able to tell if Billy was eating properly or not.

"What kind of biscuits?" he asked tiredly while peeking an eye open to look at her.

"Bacon, egg, and cheese," Virginia informed them. "And peanut butter on the one for Stu because for some reason, he likes it that way."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Nurse Winger," Stu told her while managing to sit up.

"Melted peanut butter a cheese? No fucking thank you."

☆︎

"You look very cute today, Gremlin," Virginia observed while driving her to school. "Perfect for the 'how does it feel to almost be murdered?' interviews."

Indiana rolled her eyes sarcastically while smoothing down the fabric of her light blue babydoll dress that also has a white shirt underneath to keep her from breaking the dress code with the thin straps.

"That's what I was going for, Goblin," she told her sister. Actually, Billy had laid the dress out, saying he liked her in blue.

"It was all over the news this morning even if the police haven't issued a statement, so be prepared for the masses," she warned her. "And your name was already being thrown around. So, it's definitely going to be a thing despite what you wanted."

"I'm just glad there weren't reporters outside the house," Indiana said while fiddling with the zipper on her backpack. "You remember how they were after North Carolina."

"Vultures," she claimed dramatically. "Ooh, just wait until that Gale Weathers sets her sights on you."

Indiana rolled her eyes again. She'd met Gale Weathers a handful of times. She was a young investigative reporter in Woodsboro, and Indy thought she was a bitch. During the murder trial for Maureen Prescott, Gale spread all kinds of lies and wrote stories smearing Sidney's name to try and ruin the media's opinion of her. She kept insisting that Cotton Weary was innocent despite the fact that Sidney saw him leaving the crime scene and his DNA was all over the body.

Once, Sophie and Jackson told Indiana all about the rumors that Maureen slept around a lot, and they believed that Cotton could've easily been one of the men she was seeing.

But whether Cotton was innocent or not, the way Gale treated Sidney, a sixteen-year-old girl grieving her mother, was inexcusable. And then she went off and wrote 'Wrongly Accused: The Maureen Prescott Murder' which was a cheap money grab in Indiana's opinion. And the author supposedly had a second book coming out later this year, also on the trial.

It was pathetic how she was milking Sidney's biggest tragedy for so much money.

"If Gale Weathers talks to me, I'll punch her in the face," Indiana grumbled. "God, I could kill her for the things she said about Sidney last year."

"Careful saying things like that now," Virginia said with a smirk. "With that and being in The Woodsboro Killers, these rent-a-cops would probably think they had enough evidence to lock you away."

"You're dating one of those rent-a-cops, so—"

"Dewey and I are not dating," she informed her matter of factor.

"Right. You're fucking."

"Exactly," she said, grinning smugly.

It didn't take long at all to reach the high school, unfortunately.

There were at least four news vans, all with reporters talking to their cameras or interviewing students. Half of the Woodsboro police force must have been there to interrogate students as they told the Winger siblings they would. And there were crowds of people that definitely didn't go to the school, just wanting to see what all the fuss was.

"How the hell am I supposed to get through that crowd and to my classes?" Indiana groaned while slouching over in her seat, covering her face with her hands. She didn't want to be spotted from the window as Virginia didn't park far away at all.

Virginia spotted something outside and tapped her sister's shoulder to bring her out of hiding. "I believe you've got some bodyguards," she informed her, grinning brightly.

She was correct. On the sidewalk, seemingly waiting for their lead singer, were Jackson, Sophia, and Isaiah. Indiana sighed in relief at the sight of them, glad she wouldn't be walking through the masses all that alone.

Isaiah was the one to spot Virginia's car and he got the other's attention, pulling them across the street with them. Indiana got out of the car and met them on the sidewalk, where Jackson immediately pulled her into a hug so tight that it was almost painful.

"Holy fuck, Indiana. We found out at breakfast," Jackson said. "Are you hurt?"

"Just struggling to breathe," she joked while hugging him back. Then he released her and passed her to Isaiah. "I'm guessing your family is praying for me?"

"Twice already this morning," Isaiah said with a little smirk. "I'm glad you're alive, Indy."

When it was Sophia's turn, she moved Indiana's head to the side to look at the cut on her face. "You're gonna have a bitchin' eyebrow scar. Jealous."

"Well, it's the least the murderer could give me after everything," Indy said in a teasing tone. Then she glanced toward the school and the police barricade that seemed so far away. "What are the chances you guys can get me past that crowd?"

"That's what we're out here for," Jackson told her. "We've already had a ton of reports try and ask about you."

"Told them all to fuck off," Sophia said. "Well, Zay just said 'no comment' but still."

"Thanks, guys. I appreciate it," she said. Then she took a deep breath.

"Alright," Jackson said, squaring his shoulders. "Mission 'get Indy inside and make sure Gale The Bitch Weathers has no usable footage' is a-go!"

Virginia watched through the windshield with a big smile as Indiana's friends crowded around her and they moved toward the school. It wasn't long at all before someone recognized Indiana as the survivor of the incident. Once he yelled her name, all the others became aware as well.

When reporters and cameramen swarmed around them, Isaiah used his tall and lanky frame to hide Indiana's form while Jackson shoved people out of the way, making a path for them. And Sophia was happy to flip off the cameras and shout obscenities that weren't appropriate to air on local news channels.

Once the four of them reached the bright orange, plastic barricades, the police officers kept the media off school property. It didn't keep classmates from staring at Indiana with wide, sympathetic eyes, though.

"Do you believe this shit?" Tatum's voice hit their ears over all the noise from the crowd.

She was standing near the front steps with Sidney, who was looking out at the crowd and quite confused. Just seeing Gale made Sidney's stomach twist.

"What is going on?" Sidney was asking.

"Oh, don't tell her," Indiana said while going over to the two. "I'd love for someone to not know."

"Oh, my god!" Tatum exclaimed while throwing her arms around Indiana, squishing her in a hug. "Dewey had to lock me in my fucking room to keep me from coming to see you last night."

"Well, Virginia would've let you. Both of your smush buddies brought their little dude sleepover to my house after they found out," Indiana said, looking at both girls. Naturally, she left out the cuddling and flashing.

"Wait, you seriously don't know?" Isaiah asked Sidney, raising an eyebrow. Even his family knew, and his mother didn't even let their family watch the news — she said they shouldn't care so much about the secular world. The woman was so out of touch with the world that she still didn't know her son was in a fairly popular band. But even the Christian-centered radio station she listened to was talking about what happened. "Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night."

"And Indy was there for the whole thing. She barely survived," Tatum added.

"Actually, I'm in pretty good shape so I wouldn't say 'barely'," Indiana mumbled with a shrug.

"No way," Sidney breathed out, looking at her friend in disbelief.

"And we're not just talking killed, Sid," Tatum went on. "We're talking splatter movie killed — ripped open end to end."

"Tatum," Indiana whispered, shaking her head.

"It's so sad," Tatum went on cluelessly. "Her mom and dad found her hanging from a tree. Her insides on the outside—"

Sophia moved to cover Tatum's mouth with her hand, keeping her from spilling more gruesome details. Granted, she'd pretty much covered it with the hanging from a tree bit.

"Oh, my god," Sidney said, looking a little pale. "Indy, do you know who did it?"

"No, he had a mask," she told her, looking down. "And the cops are fucking clueless. I mean, they're interrogating the entire school. Teachers, students, janitors—"

"They think it's school-related?" Sidney then asked.

"They don't know," Tatum said after pushing Sophia's hand off. "I mean, Dewey was saying this is the worst crime they've ever seen. Even worse than..." Realizing that she'd put her foot in her mouth again, Tatum grabbed Sophia's hand and put it over her mouth for her.

"What Tate means to say is that they're even bringing in the FBI. It's big," Sophia told her. "And they're really worried about Indiana's safety, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Becker."

"Well, not that worried about me," Indiana said, shrugging. "They definitely think I'm a suspect."

"Ah," Jackson said, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "Now our band name all makes sense. A misdirect so that you could go on a rampage a year later."

"Your fucking sister picked the name, dumbass."