— CHAPTER 15 —
THE MAP

FRIDAY 2nd NOVEMBER,
1984

WILL Byers has seen better days.

     For a while until they finally can see him, Cath and Mike have been treading on eggshells outside his room so as not to wake him up. They carefully tried not to clatter their cutlery too much as they ate their dinner — some pasta, the courtesy of Joyce, although the mother seemed understandably distracted and it turned out a little on the... watery side. Nevertheless, that was the last thing on her mind during that meal. Cath was more occupied with the state they had found the Byers home in. Only a couple of steps in, she had felt the crunch of paper underneath her shoes. Then she was looking around and saw that paper was in fact everywhere, crayon scribbles of blacks and blues, bruising the walls in crazy meandering patterns.

     Things were worse. Much worse than the Byers had previously let on.

     Finally, a small murmur had come from Will's room. It was barely audible, a small wisp of a sound, calling for his mother. Joyce was there in a shot, slipping in and gently pulling the door closed behind her. Mike had exchanged a glance with Cath, both of them growing in attentiveness for their friend. Joyce soon poked her head out and beckoned the two thirteen year-olds inside...

And now here they are.

The first thing Cath notices is how cold Will's room is. The freezing air prickles against her skin like brambles, adding to goosebumps that were already there. She sees that both his windows are wide open, gusts of wind dramatically billowing the curtains like storm-battered sails. Will has his back to them, sat in his pyjamas on his bed and staring vacantly ahead of him.

"Will, honey, you have some visitors."

     The Byers boy turns slowly around to look at them; Cath has to resist looking surprised. The way he has deteriorated in only twenty four hours blindsides her. Will appears pale and withdrawn, his skin clammy and feverish. A triangle of night sweat drenches his shirt, as fresh as his puffy, exhausted eyes which look as though they have cried a thousand times already. "Hey, man," Mike says carefully, giving him a small wave.

     "Hi guys..." Will croaks back, his voice hoarse and tired.

     Joyce gently clicks the door shut behind them, leaving the trio alone in the room.

     The paper tendrils of black and blue have consumed Will's walls too, swallowing all the other things in his room that made him... him. As he turns back around, Cath shoots Mike a despaired look as if to say, "What the hell do we do?" to which he bows his head solemnly. He still seems to be wrapping his head around all of it. The Wheeler boy starts scaling the paths of furious crayon scribbles, fixated with an intense curiosity. Meanwhile, Cath circles around to Will's side of the bed to take a better look at him — he seems to be shivering slightly, she notices. It must be the breeze. Is he trying to freeze to death?

     "We missed you at school today," Cath says earnestly.

     "Yeah?" Will perks up.

     "Yeah..."

     She reaches for the handle of the window, starting to pull it closed when Will suddenly snaps, "No! Don't..."

     "Are you sure?" Cath asks, taken aback by his urgency. "You look cold."

     "I... I'm fine. I like it that way."

     "Alright, if you say so..." Glancing at Mike, who seems just as puzzled as she does, she flings the window open again and shudders herself. Cath then gently perches herself down next to Will, hoping her body heat will dissolve into him as they rub shoulders.

     Mike removes a hand from his pocket and taps one of the sheets of paper taped to the wall and asks, "What's all this?"

     "Just some drawings I did..." Will says cautiously.

     "Do they mean anything?"

     "I... I don't know..."

     A glossy sheen resurfaces over Will's eyes, fixed in terror in the distance. He is hiding something. In the past, Cath might have let things slide if it was his wish. But things are different now — she worries about him. Everything is slipping through their fingers all of a sudden, and she cannot risk losing him.

     "Will..." Cath cups her hands over his trembling ones. "I can't keep secrets anymore. Not about this. I know it might be scary, but we're here to help you."

     "Yeah," Mike adds, "and we think we might know a way. But for that, we need to know what's really going on."

     "It's okay, Will. It's okay," she says gently. Will swallows thickly and stares at her, as if weighing something up in his mind. So many emotions flicker over his features then — some she's not even sure are emotions at all, instead some strange in-between — before he nods slowly.

     "I'm not sure about the drawings," he admits shakily. "But my episodes... when I have them, it's like... it's like I feel what the Shadow Monster is feeling. See what he's seeing."

"So this Shadow Monster..." Cath looks at him worriedly, still lingering on the 'he' — did he have an identity? "Do you think it's real? Like, in our world?"

"Some of him is in the Upside Down. But... some of him is here."

     "Here, like, in this house?" asks Mike.

     "In this house, and... in me."

     A chill rolls down Cath's spine at the way his voice wobbles. She feared Will had been marked somehow, and now it appears to be true. He seems to comprehend a greater danger, one beyond anything that they can understand — maybe even himself. Mike sits down on the other side of him, attentively propping his elbows on his knees and listening to him as he goes on.

     "It's like... it's like he's reaching into Hawkins more and more," Will's voice shudders with his body. "And the more he spreads, the more connected to him I feel—"

     "And the more you see these now-memories," Mike finishes.

     Nodding, Will's free hand slithers to the nape of neck and rubs it anxiously. "At first I just felt it in the back of my head. I didn't even really know it was there. It's like when you have a dream... and you can't remember it unless you think really hard. It was like that."

     "What's it like now?" Cath asks cautiously.

     "Now it's like... I remember. I remember all the time."

     Will shivers particularly hard, prompting Cath to wrap one arm around his shoulders, the other still holding his hand. After a few bloated moments of grim silence, it is Mike who finally says, "Maybe that's good."

     "Good?" says Will incredulously, whirling round to stare at his friend.

     "Just think about it, Will. You're like a spy now. A super-spy. Spying on the shadow monster. If you know what he's seeing and feeling... maybe that's how we can stop him. Maybe all of this —" Mike nods to the paper tendrils on the walls, "— is happening for a reason."

     He considers this for a moment, then croaks out in weak hopefulness, "You really think so?"

     "Yeah. Yeah, I really do," Mike smiles reassuringly; his eyes tell a different story. There is doubt and confusion about it all, but still a burning determination to do what's right.

     "What if he figures out we're spying on him?" Will sniffles. "What if he spies back?"

     "He won't."

     "How do you know?"

     "We won't let him."

After this insistence, and a little look once more around at the drawings on the walls, Mike slaps his thighs and stands up. "How about we stay over tonight?" he tries saying cheerfully. "I'll go look for some sleeping bags, and we can keep an eye on you. But it'll be fun... kind of like a sleepover!"

     "Right!" Cath adds emphatically. "We'll call our parents, and I'm sure they will be fine with us staying over."

     "Sure," Will nods weakly.

     As the door clicks shut behind Mike, Cath holds Will in the silence for a moment, her fingertips smoothing over his tense shoulder. All of a sudden he gasps, only small but enough to make her jump, and she sees tears building in his eyelids as his lips tremble.

     "I'm sorry..." he whispers.

     "For what?" she asks, although she knows he doesn't have to be sorry for anything.

     "For lying to you. For– for making you keep secrets about me." Will sniffs, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "I just... I thought I could outrun it. Like, if– if I ignored it for long enough, it would just go away. But it caught up to me, and... I was just so scared. I still am. I have no idea what's happening to me..."

     The tears dribble down his cheeks now, breaking Cath's heart with it. She instinctively switches from a one-armed hug to a full embrace, wrapping her arms around him and bringing his head to nestle on her shoulder. Then she rests her own cheek atop his head, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

     "Look, don't worry about what you did or didn't do before. You've been so brave... braver than I'd be in your shoes," Cath comforts him, tilting her head to look at him in the eyes. "Let's just think about what we can do now. We're gonna do everything we can to fix this. Together. Okay?"

     Calming down a little, Will nods, even managing a small smile. Shuddering through a sigh, his gaze drifts to the open window in front of him, so Cath stares that way too at the billowing curtains. The icy November breeze curls around them — but at each other's side, the room doesn't feel as cold anymore.

     "Thanks for being here," he mumbles more steadily. "I'm really glad you guys came to see me."

     "Of course."

     "I just wish it was... for a better reason, you know? Like, a more lighthearted one."

     "Don't worry about that," Cath smiles tiredly. "You're worth it."

━━━━━━

SATURDAY 3rd NOVEMBER,
1984

     THE next morning starts with a gasp that shatters the early tranquility.

     It comes from Will, who sits bolt upright in bed. Cath jumps out of her skin, only half-snoozing at the time, and blindly reaches out to touch his arm. His shirt is soaked through in night sweats again, chest heaving and eyes popped wide open. "Will, relax, you're here," she reminds him. Except she isn't even sure of that anymore — where does he go in his dreams these days? To the Upside Down? To the Shadow Monster?

     His breathing slowing, Will clenches his eyes shut and sighs. On the other side of the bed, Mike's head pops up groggily (but alert with attentiveness), his face cocooned in the sleeping bag and staring up at his friend. "Will, you okay?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

     Still trying to wrap his head around it himself, he shakes his head and exhales heavily. "It's Hopper... he's in trouble."

     "Sorry, who?" Cath blinks at him.

     "Hopper. I sensed him in my now memories. We need to go get Mom."

     Before either of them can stop him, Will is swinging his legs out from the bed; as he gets onto his feet he stumbles a little, the blood perhaps rushing to his head at first, but then his bare feet are already pitter-pattering over to his bedroom door. Cath leaps up herself while Mike haphazardly crawls out from his sleeping bag, both of them quickly running after him — it is safe to say neither of them got a wink of sleep last night, only closing their eyes for the illusion of rest while their minds roared with thoughts. They soon find Will stood over Joyce, who is fast asleep on the couch, shaking her shoulder vigorously.

     "Mom? Mom? Mom?"

     Joyce finally snaps out of her sleep, blinking at her son — her son. Registering that it's Will, and that something could be wrong, her fingers immediately caress his elbows in a nurturing way. "Yeah? What is it?"

     "I saw him."

     "You saw who, baby?"

     "Hopper," says Will curtly. "I think he's in trouble. I think he's going to die."

Joyce's eyes widen, then look at the other two kids. While all of them are equally as perplexed, they decide to throw themselves into it — at this point there is no use in questioning Will's new abilities. The stakes are simply far too high. His mother's immediate impulse is to get his crayons, his paper and let him do what he does best:

Draw.

The three of them stand around Will as he sits at a desk, grabbing various crayons with frenetic energy and furiously scribbling masses of black and blue onto the page. It purges itself out of him with a violence that surprises Cath — it is no wonder he drew so many of these so quickly.

     When he is finally done, Will falls back in his chair with resolve and stares at his creation. At the centre of the lighter scribbled backdrop is a deeper tube of dark blue, with undertones of black and purple. Joyce picks up the paper gingerly in her hands, with the kind of care usually reserved for things like unexplored bombs.

     "Hey, is this where you saw him? Is– is this where you saw Hopper?"

     Will nods slowly. "I think so, yeah."

     "Okay..."

     Now they just need to link it with the rest of the map.

     The group of them walk out into the hall, heads craning around the twisting and turning tunnels of black and blue — now understood to be a location in the Upside Down — and look for a piece where the jigsaw puzzle will fit. This, Cath can try her best at. Sometimes she struggled to read between the lines when they solved mysteries of the Upside Down together, preferring to find comfort in the well-known facts and common sense; meanwhile Mike could easily jump to a sprawling conclusion from a point invisible to her. But Cath was finding that if she tried relating it to something she did know, it made the crazy sound less... well, crazy. Finding where Hopper is seems like an impossible task — finding the missing jigsaw piece, on the other hand, she has a great eye for.

     That is how, after some passing moments of searching, she and Mike both manage to locate the missing spot. Joyce raises the drawing to the gap and, surely enough, it fits.

     "Okay, so... so Hopper is here?" Joyce squints in concentration.

     "Yeah," says Mike with conviction. "Now we just need to find out where he is, right?"

     "Right. Easy peasy..." Cath sighs.

     The Wheeler boy turns to Joyce and asks, "Did he say anything? I mean, before he left?"

     Joyce sighs, thinking for a moment back to whenever Hopper had apparently been here earlier. "Uh, some– something about vines?"

     She doesn't finish though, for the rumble of a car stopping outside catches her attention. Hopper? The question lingers on Joyce's features as she scurries to the door, opens it a crack and then, upon seeing who it is, shuts it behind her. Cath can hear inklings of muffled conversation travel through the door, but nothing coherent. Mike's curiosity gets the better of him and he peeks out through a gap in the curtains.

     "Who is it?" she asks.

     "It's Bob... Bob Newby," says Mike, stepping aside so Cath can look herself. "What's he doing here?"

     "Visiting Will, probably. You know... like a good stepdad."

     They both step away from the window, so as not to be seen or arouse suspicion.

     "This is bad, Mike. This is really bad," Cath murmurs quietly, so Will won't hear them in the bathroom.

     "I know..." he sighs, and for a brief moment, he seems completely transparent in his doubts about the whole thing. But then his characteristic drive returns and he adds, "But we just got one step closer. And now Hopper needs our help, so we have to figure this out. We just have to."

     "That's all good and fine, but how do we get there?"

     "We'll figure it out."

     Cath pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to ward away her sleep-deprived headache. The whole situation was making her head spin. She hates seeing Will and pain, and she panics at the ever-apparent proof that the Upside Down is not leaving them alone. That last year would come back to bite them again eventually. She thinks of Will's true sight, of the winding tunnels he has illustrated across the home, about how he was able to locate Hopper—

     Hold on...

     That's when an epiphany occurs to her.

     "Wait, so..." Cath trails off for a moment, not sure she knows where she is going with this herself. "How exactly is Will seeing these things in the Upside Down?"

     "True sight."

     "I know that, but– but who's letting him see these things? Last night... Will said part of the Shadow Monster was in him, right? And now his true sight is stronger than ever. So... is that not suspicious to you at all? This thing, which we know is bad, just magically led us to Hopper's location. Why would it want to take us there?"

     "What if he spies back?" she remembers Will saying earlier.

"I don't know," Mike considers this, then shakes his head. "But we don't have any other options. Right now, this is our best bet for finding Hopper alive."

"I know, I know," Cath bows her head, the gravity of the situation hitting her. Maybe she's just being paranoid, as always. Hopper was in danger either way and at this rate they are grabbing straws for a chance to save him. She figures Mike is right — now is not the time to be doubting every little move.

Still, it bothers her.

"Everything okay?" Will's voice suddenly emerges from behind them. His arms hang at his sides, a slightly vacant expression worn on his features as he stares between them.

"Yep," says Cath, "just talkin'."

Shrugging with a small hum, Will shuffles over to them just as the front door clicks open. In walks a neurotic Joyce, followed by a contrarily laid-back Bob Newby — that is, until the man lays eyes on the swarms of drawings eating the walls. He only mutters a brief greeting to the kids, board games balanced delicately in his hands. It suddenly occurs to Cath how strange this must look as an outsider to last year's events — she knows she finds it insane enough as it is.

After a few beats, Bob's eventual verdict is a puzzled, "Huh."

Another few beats pass.

Bob turns round to Will and asks, "You draw all these? Yourself?"

Will nods slowly.

"Why, exactly?"

"I– I told you the rules," Joyce interjects uncomfortably. "No questions, okay?"

"Yeah," he sighs.

"We... we just need you to help us figure out what... Bob. Bob!" Joyce ushers her partner over to the drawing Will created earlier and continues, "To figure out where... where this is."

"That's the objective," Mike adds earnestly, "find the X."

"Yeah? What's at the X? Pirate treasure?" Bob chortles, but no one else is laughing.

"Bob, no questions," Joyce insists again.

"Okay..." Bob clicks his tongue in deep thought, examining everything. Then he seems to have enough and places his hand on the small of Joyce's back. "Let me talk to you for a second. Hang on, guys..."

As Bob leads Joyce over to the side, Cath tries not to eavesdrop but knows they are engaged in hushed conversation about it all. She can see the concern (and genuine perturbation) on his face as Joyce tries to explain without explaining everything. Gazing around at the paper once again is starting to make her head spin — she almost feels as though she is trapped in a maze. What time is it now? She doesn't even know, but she can guess they have probably missed a meal already by the way her stomach feels hollow.

"I'm sorry. I just... I don't... see how any of this is good for Will, or for any of you," Bob's voice raises a little higher, although still kind as always. "And even if I wanted to play along, I mean, how could I figure anything out if I don't understand the context of the game? Or..."

Bob's voice fades to a standstill, as he appears to zone out onto a point in the distance. Joyce notices and asks, "What? What is it?"

"I know that shape... it's Lover's Lake."

Cath blinks at him in astonishment. "You got that —" she points incredulously at the particular drawing, "— from that?!"

"Hear me out on this, kiddo, I think I get it..." Bob insists, bouncing on his heels with stimulated excitement as he starts putting things together. "Okay, I get it. That's Lake Jordan. And if that's Lake Jordan, then you can probably find... yeah, that's, uh, Sattler's Quarry. And if you just follow it naturally... it moves to... the Eno River," he says, meandering just like the river he names to the corresponding bit of paper. "And there it is. That's the Eno, do you see it?"

     When none of his stunned audience reply, Bob sighs and tries to explain in simpler terms.

     "Okay, so the lines aren't roads. But they act like roads. And they act like roads 'cause when you follow 'em, you'll see... they don't go over water. And that's the giveaway. That's the giveaway. Ha!"

     Still, no one replies, frankly still stunned as they now find themselves in the paper-swarmed kitchen. Although Cath suddenly finds herself slotting in the missing jigsaw piece and working out the puzzle for herself.

     "Don't you get it? It's not a puzzle..."

     "It's a map of Hawkins," Cath thinks aloud, finishing his sentence.

     "Atta girl!" Bob laughs cheerily, then turns to Will standing in the corner. "That's right, isn't it, Will?"

Cath shakes her head with a stunned smile. Bob the Brain — that was what her dad said they called him in school, earned through his unbelievable intelligence. She definitely sees why he earned that title now, and quite rightly so. With Bob the Brain now very much on their team, the group manage to wolf down some hasty PB&J sandwiches for stamina, before getting straight to work. Hours must pass by as they become engrossed in a labyrinth of Will's illustrations and tape measures for plotting locations.

"All right. I'm 3.6 inches, what do you got?" Bob calls from one side of the house.

In the living room, Cath holds out the measuring tape for Mike while he tries finding the number.

"I'm not sure," he yells back. "Mrs. Byers?"

"Hold on... twenty-one feet, four inches."

"What about Tippecanoe to Danford Creek?"

"Danford? Where's Danford?"

"Dining room!"

And it carries on like this, on and on. Cath can only guess how much by the light starts to fade outside by the time they huddle around the map Bob is plotting. Still, they have no X marking the spot.

"Oh, come on, this has gotta be enough," Joyce despairs.

"It's not. It's... it's really not."

"Okay. Can't you figure it out?"

"Well, it's hard," Bob stutters. "The ratio isn't exactly one-to-one. I mean, if you're twisting my arm, and you are twisting my arm, I would say that the X is... maybe a half mile southeast of Danford?" He demonstrates, plotting the X at the subsequent location he mentions.

Even if only a vague estimate, the relief of seeing the red mark for Hopper brings everyone immense relief. "Thank you," Joyce takes Bob's face in her hands and kisses his cheek, "Thank you!" In a swift move, she grabs the paper from the table and runs to the door, grabbing her coat on the way out.

"What? Are we– are we really going?" Bob asks frantically. As Cath lingers behind with a tired Will, he turns to the two kids and asks, "Do you know what all this is about?"

Cath looks to her best friend for a moment, then sighs sympathetically. "Honestly, I wish I knew less. Welcome to our world. Now, come on, we should get going."

Surprised by the adult-like dutifulness of this thirteen year-old, Bob trails behind them and shuts the door on the way out. The car speeds out of the Byers drive underneath the fading blue sky in a race against time...

Meanwhile, inside the empty house, the shrill ringing of the phone bounces off the walls — and on the other line waits a father, fighting the pit of concern growing in his stomach at the whereabouts of his youngest daughter.

━━━━━━

A/N;

i'm back! sorry i kind of abandoned this book for a month, in all honesty my motivation dwindled a bit — not overall though. in honesty, i suddenly felt really burned out by the stranger things fandom (because the scale/hype of season 4 was SO intense) and just wanted to rake a breather from it all, so i could return to writing season 2 refreshed instead of having season 4 in the forefront of my mind. and it was definitely worth that break! it also gave me the chance to work on some of my other stories, which was nice.

i'm aware that this chapter ended on kind of a cliffhanger, but i'm afraid that will not be picked up until the chapter after next... because the chapter following this one is purely from thomas's POV! yes, we are finally circling back to peggy's casual "i think i'm pregnant" thing, and subsequently getting lots of thomas/peggy time and lots of thomas and his internal thoughts. i'm looking forward to writing it soon!

also this chapter is kind of unedited, since i was really eager to update and just wanted to get it out there, so please excuse any spelling errors and such (and don't be shy to point them out either)

thank you for reading as always, and hope you have a lovely day/evening!

— Imogen

[ Published: October 6th, 2022 ]