chapter seven — a broken home and bloody nose

"¿Qué hiciste? ¿Por qué lloraba tu hermana?" Sofia questioned her son sharply, sending him a daring glare. He knew his mothers wrath all too well, but his vision was just as red as hers and he wasn't going to cower like some child. His cold eyes matched the breeze that blew in from the back door.

"We were just talking." Mateo grumbled, already moving past his mother to the living room.

"Hey!" Her hand gripped his arm, "I'm talking to you and by the way, you're not a very good liar so start talking." She said, crossing her arms as he turned to look glare at her.

"It's not my fault she's sensitive." He spat. Sofia sighed and her son thought that for a moment that he was off the hook, but he must have forgotten exactly who his mother was and the gifts she held.

"I know you said something to her and you can tell me now or tomorrow morning while you help me clean the house." His head popped up at her response and he threw his hands out with a huff.

"It wasn't like I said anything that was wrong." He argued as his mother turned to lower the heat on the stove.

Sofia pursed her lips as she peered up at her son; he reeked of pride. He wore the face of his father and it made the conversation ten times harder to have. Her husband always had something to say about their daughter's gift. She knew as their son got older he observed their arguments with a heavier gaze – analyzing their words, looking for context clues to lead him to the topics of their discussions. He had idolized his father and when he left he was heartbroken. Irene tried and tried to comfort him but he always responded with anger and frustration.

She knows that he blames Irene for the divorce – her husband did. It wasn't fair and she refused to let her son go down the same path – she wasn't going to let him walk away from someone that loved him unconditionally.

She sighed again, her anger subsiding as it was replaced by sadness. Mateo stood completely in front of her now, looking at her with impatience etched into his features. Her hands found his shoulders as she shook her head, "You can't keep blaming your sister for something she didn't do – something she had no control over." This made her son scoff, turning in frustration as he ran his hand through his hair. Her hands fell to her sides. The flash of pain that flickered behind her brown eyes had no effect on him.

"All of your fights were because of her, were they not? Every time we moved it was because she was bullied or because she got into fights at school or she was spouting some vision to the teacher and they reported her. All of it was her fault. " He responded coldly, taking a step back from his mother who shook her head furiously.

"You don't understand and neither did your father. I was born like this and so was your sister; neither of us asked for it. The world wasn't ready then and maybe it's not ready now, but we can't just change who we are for the sake of other people's comfort." Sofia drew her eyebrows together as she explained, "I've done that for far too long and I refused to let your sister's flame die out and I would've done the exact same if it was you."

"Well, it wasn't me so I guess you got lucky." Mateo seethed, turning away from his mother and angrily grabbing his jacket he threw on the couch. He was distancing himself; deeper feelings rose to the surface of his heart and he was pushing them back down. Sofia placed a comforting hand on her son's shoulder again and wished she could fix whatever had broke inside him years ago when the fights first began.

"What's going on, Teo? You can talk to me." She whispered gently.

He shook her hand off of his shoulder and clutched his jacket, squeezing his watery eyes shut. He'd be damned if he let his mom know how he was really feeling about the gift skipping his generation, "It doesn't matter, just drop it already."

She scoffed, "I'll give you time to think about your answer and an apology these next few weeks while you're stuck here at home." Mateo's body whipped around after she spoke. His mother stood smugly, with crossed arms and a stoic face.

"So you're grounding me? I'm twenty, you can't do that and what about my job?" He asked in exasperation and even more anger. This, he'd decided then, was worse than feeling the sting of his mothers wrath fueled words. She always went to extreme's when he did something wrong – from forcing his coach to bench him for weeks to taking away his Atari for months.

"Act like a child and you get treated like one. Last time I checked, you live in my house so that means you follow my rules. You can still work, but I expect you home right after your shift – no hanging out with friends after and no having them over." Mateo opened his mouth to respond but was met with his mother's manicured fingers, "No es un tema de negociación." Was all she said before making her way back to the kitchen.

Mateo stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, reveling in his overflowing anger. Hell no, he thought to himself before trudging to the front door and ripping it open. His mother's quick footsteps made his heart race but he didn't have time to think about repercussions or the grave he'd practically buried himself in; he needed to get out.

"Mateo!" His mother yelled as he mounted his motorcycle, "¡Mateo, será mejor que vuelvas a entrar en esta casa!" Her voice rang through his hot ears but the rumble of the engine muffled her cries and before his mother knew it, his figure was enveloped by darkness as he rode off.

Sofia clutched her shawl tighter around her body as she looked around nervously, the wind hit her face and reminded her of the warm tears that were drying on her cheeks. She dragged herself inside and shut the door, leaning her forehead against it. Her body shook as she broke into a sob before her hand flew to her mouth to suppress the sound. She remembered that her daughter didn't need to hear her mother crumble again. She held it in as she picked herself off the floor and tip-toed toward her daughter's room.

"Irene." She knocked on the door softly, trying her best to sound like she hadn't been crying, "Estaré en la cocina si me necesitas...no olvides que te amo mi hijita." Her voice was just above a whisper as she stood as close as she could to the door – trying to feel her daughter's warmth despite the barrier. However, Irene wasn't even there to hear her mothers hoarse yet gentle voice; she too had escaped into the twilight with tear stained cheeks.

Sofia sat alone for dinner, a heaping glass of wine next to her plate as she numbly ate. It was easier when her family was whole if there was an argument; she always had someone to turn to whether it be her husband or her kids. Now she was by herself, left to sit in her thoughts and wallow in her grief; left to dwell on how melancholy was an ugly feeling. Sometimes it felt like her kids knew her seams were poorly put back together and fell apart every now and then. Nonetheless, she held onto the idea that in their eyes she was a superhero. That small sliver of hope was all she had.

Samuel Brady believed in hope, except most of it left his body entirely once a rapid knocking sound on the locked glass doors of Vince's Record Store filled his ears, startling his tall frame. It was only eight o'clock, but he closed early that Saturday because he had to restock the new shipment of vinyls that his dad was begging him to finally put out. Typically, he wouldn't be so skittish by himself but lately some jerks had made it their summer mission to hassle him on late evenings.

The sound continued as he weaved through the isles, feeling the pinch of a headache culminating behind his eyelids. He readied himself to find the front covered in a mess of yellow egg yolk or plastered with paint or any other shit they had used to constantly deface the store with. What he didn't expect to see was Mateo standing there, clutching his blue plaid flannel tightly, shivering like a leaf swept up by a storm. His hand dug into his pocket and swiftly took his keys out to unlock the door for his friend.

"I just-I got into another goddamn fight with my mom and-shit-I-I-I-couldn't be there anymore. I can't do it anymore, man. She just doesn't...understand." Mateo rambled with a quivering lip and instinctively Samuel wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He stiffened at first, but the soft whisper of his friend telling him 'it's okay' made him melt into the embrace allowing him to fully let go.

Each member of the Vasquez family grieved differently that night; Sofia drank her sorrows away as she indulged in leftover Rogel cake, while Irene sunk into the warm passenger seat of Eddie's van as he tried his hardest to make her laugh, and Mateo watched his worries drift away to old show tunes accompanied by the sweet voice of Sam as they stacked vinyls and cassettes. In the dead of night the two siblings crept back into their frail home, both sifting through metaphorical eggshells discarded on the floor as they made their way to their rooms, feeling somewhat lighter than before.

JUNE 30, 1985

Irene woke the next morning with a terrible headache. The sun spilled into her room, casting a bright and warm glow over her face. The piercing sound of her alarm clock rang through her ears as she rubbed her face. She blinked a few times, greeting the morning with tired eyes and puffy cheeks. She grimaced, pulling the sheets over her head before extending her hand out to turn off the alarm. While she turned on her side, she tuned into the soft sounds of Carlos Santana playing from the living room. Her mother must have been up early and cleaning – it was a ritual for her to deep clean on Sundays. The vacuum whirred to life and Irene realized that falling back to sleep wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

The heavy scent of Fabuloso hit her nostrils as she dragged her body into the bathroom, confirming her mother was in fact cleaning. She wet her face, trying to bring some life back into it, and then went on to brush her teeth. With closed eyes she tried focusing on the way the bristles felt as they scrubbed away. It gave her a sense of calmness before being thrown back into the hectic reality of life. She followed with floss and mouthwash before heading out of the bathroom and towards the living room to greet her mother.

"Good morning?" She yawned, puzzled by the sight of her brother wiping down the coffee table by the couch. He ignored her, spraying more of the cleaner he was using on the glass. She didn't speak of how she heard his creaky door open slowly after his quiet footsteps moved through the living room. She didn't speak of his bubbling animosity toward her. She kept quiet, not wanting to create any more tectonic movement in their broken home.

"Buenos días, mi amor." Her mother came from around the corner, and kissed the top of her head. She gave her a warm smile, asking if she had the day off too, "No, but thankfully I don't have to be at the Precinct until two. I'm making pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Also, I want you to take some of the leftovers from last night to your friends for lunch." Her mother smiled before returning to her sizzling pans. None of them spoke about the previous night and honestly, it removed a weight off of all of their chests. They collectively believed they could do without a screaming match that morning.

After breakfast, Irene got herself ready for the day and to head out to the mall – her mom was persistent in getting her to take leftovers to Steve and Robin. As she stepped onto the bus a weird sensation washed over her, she shook the feeling and convinced herself she probably just ate too quickly and would be fine.

She enjoyed the calm ride to the mall, taking in the life around her. Some kids spent their morning playing out on the lawn or trying to ride their bikes alongside the bus she knew they'd never catch. Parents sat calmly at their porches – fathers reading the paper while mothers drank their coffee with tight lipped smiles. The edges of life felt blurred as she leaned her head against the window, watching it all unfold beneath her gaze, she tried to fit herself somewhere in between it all.

The mall came into view and life seemed more concrete as people walked on and off the bus, crowding the bike area or entrance as they gathered with each other. She clutched the strap of her backpack with one hand as the other held onto the reusable bag with two plastic containers. She reminded herself she was only visiting for a moment and then enjoying the rest of her day listening to the new cassette Eddie gave to her. Her body pushed past the groups of teens that lingered around the mall, quiet 'excuse me's' left her lips as she did so. A figure struck hers and she stumbled forward, the girl instantly apologizing as she turned to Irene. The latter smiled, noticing it was Max and what seemed to be a friend of hers.

"It's okay." She breathed with a shrug, before turning to the red-head, "Max, how are you?" She asked calmly, refraining from pestering her about her step-brother's distasteful and rude actions to her and Mateo. The last thing she wanted to do was bug her about Billy, she figured she was annoyed enough living with the man. Max smiled back softly, bringing her shoulders up in a half shrug.

"I'm good." She responded before turning to the girl next to her, someone Irene hadn't seen hanging around them. Considering how happy they looked, she could tell they had to be close. "This is El; her dad's pretty strict which is why she's not around much."

"Hi El, I'm Rena. It's nice to finally meet you." The brunette smiled warmly, extending her hand out. El reached out to shake it and matched Irene's expression, "Alright well...you two have fun, but be careful." Irene warned before departing from the two and heading toward Scoops. She caught Steve's eyes, flashing him a toothy grin and holding up the bag as she walked through the sea of people at the front of the ice cream shop.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" He questioned playfully once she got close. Despite his cool tone, his demeanor seemed anything but collected.

"My mom wanted me to bring you two lunch. She made beef enchiladas last night; it's a corn tortilla stuffed with beef and we typically put red sauce on top along with cheese." Steve smiled as she shrugged, taking in her relaxed features. He wasn't used to seeing her in casual clothes, so it was a nice refresher to watch her in her element. Her hair wasn't pulled back in a bun nor trapped underneath an unflattering cap, it fell a little past her shoulders in soft waves. The food that she pulled out of the plastic bag stole his attention however – he was starving, one could only eat bananas and ice cream for so long.

He reached for the tupperware, "Thanks Rena, I'll take it and put it in the break room." She cocked her head to the side at his words, raising a questioning brow.

"I'll just take it myself, I know I'm not on the clock but I can just drop it. I wanted to say 'hi' to Robin anyways." Irene explained as she began to walk toward the break room door. Steve moved his body to block her but he was too late. She barged in, stopping once she caught sight of Robin and some younger boy sitting at the table. They quickly reached to turn the tape recorder at the center off and she frowned, catching the foreign language that played.

"Who is this and why are you guys listening to some guy talking about how long something is? Should I be worried?" Irene eyed Robin before frantically turning her gaze over to Steve who stood beside her sharing looks of sympathy with the two sitting down.

"Steve, who's the random chick?" The younger boy asked frantically, giving Steve a pointed look. Irene looked at him with furrowed brows as she crossed her arms. Who does this kid think he is, she thought to herself.

"Dustin, this is Irene. Irene, this is Dustin." Steve introduced the two and Irene placed her hands at her hips. She angled her body at both him and the two sitting at the table.

"So, what? This is what you guys do while I'm gone? Invite your children into the break room and listen to Russian together. Is there something you're not telling me?" She questioned exasperatedly, feeling terribly left out.

Robin held her hand up, turning her attention toward her co-worker, "The real question we all should be asking is how in the hell did you know this was Russian?" It was Steve's turn to place his hands at his hips and give Irene a pointed look, signaling her to answer the question.

"My dad used to work with this Russian guy when we lived in Nevada. Their family came over all the time on weekends and I went to school with his kids. While his son and my brother played outside, his oldest daughter taught me a few words." She shrugged, "Now are you two going to tell me what's going on and why this child is here?"

The three shared looks before turning their attention back toward Irene whose curious eyes pierced through them.

"So..." Irene trailed, pinching the bridge of her nose. The enchiladas she brought twenty minutes ago had been devoured by Steve, Robin, and Dustin. "You're telling me, you were trying to talk to your girlfriend you met at summer camp over some advanced radio you made there as well and accidentally stumbled across a secret Russian transmission which you're now trying to decode because you think if you do it'll save the world?" She asked slowly and the three smiled triumphantly.

"If not the world then at least Hawkins." Dustin reasoned, to which Irene nodded her head. They looked at her in anticipation as she closed her eyes and surveyed all of the information that was just piled onto her. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek as she bobbed her head from side to side, finally giving in as she lightly brought her shoulders up.

"Alright fine, I'm in."

"Oh good, I don't know what I would've done if you said no." Steve breathed, leaning over to place his hands on his knees. The bell outside made its famous dinging sound which meant someone outside was in dire need of ice cream, "Duty calls." He told the others before patting Irene's shoulder as he walked past her.

"Okay." Irene breathed as she took a seat beside Robin. She glanced at both of them, leaning her body against the table, "Where do we begin?" Dustin moved toward the tape recorder, pressing play and the three of them listened intently.

Irene called her mom ten minutes in once she realized her fairly little knowledge in Russian was very rusty and it was going to take them a while to decode just the beginning of the message. Thankfully, Robin's multilingual abilities not only made her feel proud but they gave her ease knowing she had help. The two of them worked to piece fragments together of letters and words that sounded familiar while Dustin played the role in rewinding and playing the tape over. Steve kept silent when he popped in from time to time, letting them work while he kept his focus on the music in the background.

It had practically taken them all day, but somehow they managed to decode the first part of the message:The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.

Irene handed a piece of her Swedish fish to Robin as they gathered and walked out beside each other.

"It just can't be right." Steve spoke his thoughts out loud as he pulled the metal gate over the shop, locking it in the place.

"I find that insulting." Irene joked as she chewed yet another red candy, nudging Robins's side.

"It's right."

"Honestly, I think it's great news."

"How is this great news?" Steve asked exasperatedly, standing to join the three. A dry chuckle left his lips, "I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It's obviously a code." Dustin argued, reaching out his palm for Irene to place another Swedish fish on it. She did so and he gave her a grateful smile.

"What do you mean a code?"

"Like a super secret spy code."

"That's a total stretch." Irene sighed, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"I don't know, is it?" Robin asked.

"Coded messages are not a new concept, Steven." She dropped her hand while explaining her point, "I read once that Harriet Tubman and other slaves used coded songs as a strategy to communicate during the time of the Underground Railroad. They implemented messages within their songs to give directions on how to escape plantations and even where to meet." She looked over and could tell Steve still wasn't following, "I mean think about it, if this is a secret transmission did you really think they'd give a clear detail of their plans? They had to have known the channel they were speaking through wasn't private."

"Exactly." Dustin agreed, plopping another candy into his mouth.

"Our translation is correct. I know that for sure, so..."The silver cat feeds." Why would anyone talk like that unless they're trying to mask the true meaning of their message?" Robin questioned as they walked through the empty mall.

"Exactly." Dustin and Irene said simultaneously, giving each other a weird look.

"And why would anyone want to mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?" Robin rambled on to which Irene pointed, nodding her head furiously.

"Exactly." Dustin whispered, holding his hands out as he turned to Steve. The oldest brunet made a few at the three of them as they all agreed with one another.

"So I guess that confirms your suspicion."

"Evil Russians."

"I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians." Robin laughed in astonishment.

"So, how do we crack it?"

"Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges." Robin shrugged before looking over at Dustin and Irene who seemed lost in her thoughts.

Irene continued to walk but noticed how she felt the same sensation creeping up on her from when she stepped onto the bus that morning. She tried to shake it away again; thinking of more excuses as to why she was feeling so off. However, the uneasy stir in her stomach wouldn't leave. She avoided it the best she could, returning to the moment.

"It's probably gonna take a super genius to crack it but..." Robin trailed, looking behind her. "Where's Steve?" The three of them turned, watching as the brunet reached inside his pocket for change while he stood in front of a child's horse ride. "Hey, Steve." She called and he fiddled frantically with the change in his hands, coins clattering to the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, it's a quarter. I need–Do you have a quarter?" He asked to which the three of them began walking toward the ride he was standing at.

Robin chuckled, "Sure you're tall enough for that ride?" She asked playfully and Steve shared no part in her laughter.

"Quarter!" He yelled and Robin threw him one, he caught it quickly before placing it in the slot.

"You need help getting up, little Stevie?" He shushed his co-worker and Dustin as they both let out a small chuckle. Irene still seemed caught up in her own daze, despite how hard she was trying to focus on Steve's frantic state.

"Would you two just shut up and listen?" He asked as the song "Daisy Bell" continued to play while the ride went on.

"Holy shit." Dustin spoke up, "The music." He mumbled and turned to his backpack to dig through it, "The music!" He repeated, placing his backpack down and reaching his hand in to search for the tape recorder. He grabbed it, holding it out as he pressed play.

"I don't understand."

"It's the exact same song on the recording." He pointed out to Robin.

"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia."

"Indiana Flyer? I don't...I don't think so. This code, it...didn't come from Russia. It came from here." The three all stared at the horse as it continued to bob forward. The feeling moved from Irene's stomach to her chest, blooming with fear as she closed her eyes. She took a step back from the group, cursing under her breath once she felt the trickle of warm blood down her lip – the taste of metal nauseating her even more. A bone-chilling scream pierced her ears as she turned to frantically look behind her. The bag of candy fell from her hand as she reached out.

Her knees buckled and before anyone knew it her body collided with the floor.

A/N:
hi friends! a little update after vacation which was a nice refresher mentally and physically. it was the most at peace i felt in a long time and i literally slept like a baby the entire time. but yeah, enough about me ahahah!

i like this chapter because it's like a looming shadow that you know is there but wish it wasn't — it's very haunting in its own way & i love that. i added and tweaked a few things from what it previous looked like and im more happy with this outcome & the little look into sam brady and his gentle heart ( i just love him ) also! i added a section for sam and mateo in the pinterest board for this story so click on my carrd & go check it out! <3

translations in comments! && let me know how you're liking the story so far!