Jim had picked Mary up no more than a few minutes after the whole fiasco with Jonathan. He had asked how her day had been, but Mary had simply grumbled in reply, not wanting to get into the details of how shitty it had been.

And from there, he had taken her to the local library, where Powell was already waiting for the Chief to return with his daughter; he had explained how he wanted her to learn the basic research of missing people's cases and Mary was excited to be apart of her father's police work.

However, after being there for a while and reading up on the sketchy and always quiet Hawkins Laboratory, Powell had been radioed by Flo whom had told them that they needed to get to the Quarry immediately.

Mary's knee had jittered the whole time that her father had put the sirens on and sped to the Quarry. Both thinking horrible and unthinkable thoughts — all including the mystery of little Will Byers.

Finally pulling up on the pebbled ground, Mary and her father hurriedly got out of the car where loads of other vans and vehicles were, including an ambulance and Mary found her breath catching in her throat as she noticed paramedics in the water with a stretcher.

"Dad, look." She said, pointing over to where there were a body being pulled into the stretcher and the pair inched closer to the water with curious and fearful eyes.

"Oh god. Please don't let it be the kid." Jim begged, but just in that moment the paramedics got out of the water and they both recognised the body as their missing person; little Will Byers, poor innocent Will whom once had his whole life ahead of him.

Jim breathed out heavily, wiping his hand over his face whilst Mary swallowed back the horrible feeling in her throat. For days she had been making stupid and selfish remarks about Will and the kid was dead — he had been dead the whole time.

"Oh my god." She whispered, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hands, her face draining of colour as the boys body was taken into the ambulance — completely soaked to the bone.

Mary turned her back, her eyes glistening over with tears. She didn't know Will, not really. But she had saw him with her cousin Nate many of times before they stopped hanging out and he had been a lovely kid. And suddenly, Mary felt terribly guilty for her behaviour over the past week. And then she was thinking of Jonathan.

His brother was dead, he hadn't ran away or got lost — he was gone. And they had smashed up his camera and tore his pictures to shreds only a few hours before. And she couldn't even begin to think what he was going to go through upon hearing the news.

After the realisation sunk in, Jim was getting his daughter in the truck and pulling out of the Quarry, knowing that Joyce Byers needed to know her son wasn't out there and that he wasn't coming back.

Mary shivered deeply, hugging her arms as the image of Will replayed in her mind and Jim sighed, "Mary, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you with me, you should have saw —"

"No, it's alright," Mary interrupted, looking over at her father before down at her lap, "I needed to see that."

        ———

Mary didn't know what to expect by the time she arrived at the Byers residence, but once she did she didn't quite know where to look. The entire house was decorated with Christmas lights — Joyce hadn't left so much as one spot without them, they were everywhere. And she had painted the alphabet on her living room wall, where most of the multicoloured bulbs sat on each letter.

Jonathan was there, but Mary tried avoiding all eye contact with him. She didn't know quite how to look him in the eyes, "Will crashed his bike, he made his way over the Quarry and uh, accidentally fell in... The earth must have given way." Her father was trying his best to explain to Joyce — the mother that Mary hadn't saw since before Will's disappearance and she looked terrible. But she also didn't seem to be taking in what her father was saying.

"Joyce? Joyce? Do you understand what I'm saying?" He asked her gently whilst Mary stood on the other side of the room, looking uncomfortable and out of place.

"No," Joyce suddenly said, looking up at Jim, "Whoever you found is not my boy. It's not Will!" She exclaimed, gesturing with her hand and Jonathan from the entry by the hall diverted his gaze, his eyes red and Mary glanced over at him.

Jim sighed, "Joyce —"

"No, you don't understand," She interrupted, "I talked to him half an hour ago. He was, he was here! He was, he was talking with these!" She rushed over the room, digging into a cabinet and Mary tilted her head to get a good look.

Joyce brought out another set of lights and Mary looked over to Jonathan whom turned away, unable to believe his mothers rambles, "Talking?" Jim questioned and Joyce rattled her head with a fast nod.

"Uh-huh. One blink for yes, two for no. And uh, and I made this so he could talk to me," She said, gesturing to the wall with the scribbled letters and Mary bit down on her bottom lip, "Cause he was hiding from that thing." Joyce insisted and Mary looked to her father.

He seemed tired, exhausted even, "The thing that came out of the wall? The thing that chased you?" He asked her tiredly and Mary chewed down on the ends of her nails nervously; Joyce Byers was having a mental breakdown right before her eyes and it was hard to watch.

"Yeah — Yeah." She agreed, just as Jonathan rushed to her and grasped her shoulders, unable to take his mothers rambling anymore, it were tearing him to pieces. And he had already lost his brother, he couldn't lose her too.

"Mom, come on, please. You've gotta stop this —"

"No! Maybe he's — it's after him! He's in danger, we have to find him!" She cried and that's when Jonathan couldn't take any more. He latched off his mother and stormed to his room, tears dripping down his cheeks and then his door slammed shut and music blasted from the room.

Mary made a step forward, almost going after him when she stopped herself. She wouldn't even know what to say — and he wouldn't want her there anyway. Surely Jonathan Byers hated her guts from the years of torment he received from her friendship group.

"What exactly was this thing? It was some kind of animal, you said?" Jim asked, trying to get to the bottom of what Joyce was seeing — although Mary were sure it were just in her head. It wouldn't be the first time a parent went mad after the death of a child.

"Uh no, it was almost human, but it wasn't. It, It had these long arms and it didn't have a face —"

"Didn't have a face?" Both Mary and Jim chorused before her father continued with, "Joyce." But the woman quickly spoke over him.

"It didn't have a face!"

"Joyce, listen to me. Listen to me," Mary's father said as he inched closer to the frantic woman, holding the side of her arms to stop her relentless pacing, "After Sara, I saw her too." He said and Mary diverted her gaze, looking down to her feet as her stomach churned. It were the first time she had heard her father speak his daughters name sober.

"And I heard her too," He said, "I didn't know what was real. And then I figured out it was all in my mind. And I had to pack all that away. Otherwise, I was going to fall down a hole I couldn't get out of — and I couldn't do that, because I had Mary. Just like you have Jonathan." He explained before Mary quickly brushed by them, her eyes burning with tears as she headed to the bathroom right beside Jonathan's room that had his name on it.

She slammed the door shut behind her and locked it, still hearing the faint voices of her father and Joyce speaking as she clutched onto the sink, looking at herself in the mirror; tears leaked from her eyes, her throat was tight and her chest moved from heavy breaths.

Hearing Sara's name were still difficult and it wasn't often she heard it, only when her father was drunk and awake which were an unusual combination. But with the events happening in Hawkins, little boys showing up dead and mothers being heartbroken, Mary felt a lot of similarity to it.

The girl looked up when there were a slight buzzing coming from above her and she noticed the bulb above her head were flickering and she narrowed her eyes up at it.

There were a light knock at the door and Mary jumped on the spot before sniffling, quickly wiping her face, "Mary, come on. We're leaving." Her father called in and she exhaled deeply, taking a quick glance at her slightly red face before rushing to the door and unlocking it.

Her father offered the smallest of smiles, patting her back before leading her to the front door where Joyce sat on the couch, her head in her hands and Mary paused to look over at the woman, "I'm really sorry for your loss, Misses Byers." She apologised sincerely and the mother looked up at her, her cheeks hollow and eyes wild.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Will's right here," She assured and Mary felt chills move down her spine, "He's here."

     ———

After Jim had drove Mary home, the girl had waited until he had left in the dark again before she got in her car and began driving. She was beginning to get worried about Charlie — she hadn't had so much as a phone call from him and after what had happened to Will, she needed to know he was safe.

She drove like a maniac, her foot always on the gas, hardly even slowly down. Mary was a good driver, in fact she were amazing, especially when it came to fast cars — her favourite kind. And Charlie's.

He had been the one whom got her into racing the dirt tracks in Hawkins when she had free time. He to working in his father's garage just on the outskirts of town and he were experienced in many kind of cars and since, Mary had got hooked on them too. And they used to race each other all over Hawkins.

Thinking of Charlie's car, Mary thought she had been imagining things when she saw it parked on the side of the road — a good fifteen minutes away from his house, in the middle of nowhere. But when she slammed on the breaks, the car spinning around in a half circle before coming to a stop, she realised that she had in fact saw it.

She left her car on the middle of the road, leaving the door open as she rushed down to where Charlie's black sleek vehicle sat at an awkward angle on the side of the road, "Charlie?!" She called out, hoping he had maybe stayed in his car but upon reaching it, she realised it were empty.

However, the window was down and she reached inside, twisting the door handle before the satisfying click filled her ears and she hopped inside, sitting in the drivers seat.

She had a quick fumble around, searching for any clues that showed Charlie had been there recently or hadn't been for a while. But she couldn't find a thing until she looked through the glove compartment.

The little brown Oakwood box that fell onto the floor peaked her interest because she knew what usually resided inside it — but it had fallen open and was empty.

She picked it up, inspecting the box before having a quick look through the compartment until she found a torch that she instantly clicked on and got outside of the car.

She examined the road and then the grass, noticing that there were hard tire marks sliding from the road and to the blades of green meaning that Charlie hadn't just stopped, he had probably drifted for a moment before the car had completely stopped on the grass.

Heart thumping in her chest, Mary continued to walk onwards, towards the forest, "Charlie?! Charlie, are you here?!" She called out, looking into the tree line before a small glimmer of metal on the ground caught her eyes and she rushed towards it.

Mary crouched down, picking up the bullet from the grass and staring at it with wide eyes. Her thoughts had been right; Charlie always kept a gun in his glove compartment, something his uncle had given him as a gift for Christmas the year before.

And it weren't in the box or the car, meaning that Charlie must have saw something on the road — or something bad could have happened. He would have gotten the gun, got out of the car and been in such a hurry whilst loading the gun that he had dropped a bullet.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes made Mary quickly get to her feet, shining the torch through the trees as her heart thumped in her chest, "Hello?! Is anyone out there?!" She called into the shadows, moving back and fourth on her feet, beginning to feel nauseated.

Mary exhaled deeply, foggy air leaving her lips, "Hello?" She cried feebly, hoping that if anyone were there, that it would be Charlie — and not some weirdo running around the woods or a wild animal.

Working up courage, Mary began slowly and carefully walking towards the woods before she was inside the tree-line where every gust of wind send shivers down her spine.

She walked for a few minutes until she stopped when the torch began to flicker and she whacked it a few times, "Come on, stupid thing — agh, come on!" She exclaimed in a whisper, but the torch did the exact opposite and instead flickered one last time before going completely dead, leaving Mary in a state of darkness.

When the bushes began rattling, Mary turned around quickly, desperately hitting the torch so she'd be able to see again before finally, she were granted light again.

Although when she looked up, a horrified scream escaped her lips at the sight before her and startled birds flew from their nesting places. But before she could even get a better look, she quickly turned on her heels and began sprinting through the forest, weaving in and out of trees.

Her legs were pounding, her heart erratically beating, hair getting tangled on branches but she could hear noises from behind her and she refused to stop, not until she got to her car and quickly clambered inside it, looking the doors and windows.

Her head hit the seat, hair falling in her face as she tipped her head back, shoulders heaving with every ragged breath that she took, her eyes squeezed shut as her whole body shook.

Her fingertips clutched the steering wheel as she opened her eyes, her breathing slowing down. The image of what she had just saw continuously flashing in her mind, "Maybe you're not as crazy as I thought you where, Joyce Byers."

                             ———

           Hold onto your hats ladies and gentlemen, our little Mary is finally getting more involved.