❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚
• BLUE •
CHAPTER FOUR—
Reefer Rick

———

SERENA stirred as the sound of her ringing phone pulled her from sleep. She groaned, rolling over to grab the receiver off her bedside table, squinting at her alarm clock. 7:00 a.m. Too early.

"Hello?" she mumbled, her voice groggy.

"Rise and shine, Wheeler," Steve's chipper voice came through the line. "Shift starts in an hour."

"Steve," Serena groaned, pulling her blanket over her head. "You're calling me at seven in the morning to remind me about work? I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too," Steve teased. "But unless you want to walk to the shop, you'd better get moving. I'm giving you a ride, and I'm leaving in twenty."

"Twenty?" Serena shot upright, the blanket falling from her face. "You said thirty yesterday!"

"Not my problem you sleep like the dead. Get it together, Ren. Don't make me honk and wake up your whole family."

"Ugh, fine," she muttered, already dragging herself out of bed. "But I swear, if you make me listen to Madonna on the way, I'm jumping out of the car."

Steve laughed. "Deal. See you in twenty—or fifteen if you're actually on it today." He hung up before she could throw another sarcastic jab.

Serena shuffled to her dresser, yanking open a drawer and pulling out her Film Stop uniform. Pairing it with black jeans, she ran a hand through her messy hair and debated whether she had time for eyeliner. Deciding against it, she quickly brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would jolt her awake.

As she grabbed her bag and a granola bar, she heard the faint honk of Steve's car from outside. "I'm coming!" she yelled, even though he couldn't hear her.

Sliding into the passenger seat, she shot him a death glare. "You're lucky I'm not a morning person, Harrington."

Steve smirked, glancing at her as he pulled away from the curb. "You're welcome. Now, don't fall asleep in the stockroom, okay?"

"Shut up," Serena said, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile as they headed for the shop.

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The bell above the Film Stop door jingled for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon, and Serena sighed as she leaned against the counter. Steve was busy pretending to organize tapes in the horror section while Robin sat cross-legged on the floor behind the register, flipping through a magazine.

"Another group of Hawkins High hopefuls incoming," Robin muttered under her breath, spotting the trio of boys who had just walked in.

Serena glanced up, recognizing the boys from school. They were grinning ear to ear, their gazes immediately locking onto her. She groaned internally.

"Let me guess," Steve whispered as he wandered over, pretending to straighten the candy rack. "Here to rent Gremlins and maybe, just maybe, score a date with the hottest girl in Hawkins." He smirked.

"Don't start," Serena said, swatting at him.

One of the boys, a tall, awkward kid wearing a varsity jacket that seemed too big for him, sidled up to the counter. "Uh, hey, Serena," he stammered.

"Hi," she replied, keeping her tone polite but distant as she rearranged the stack of membership forms on the counter.

"So, uh, do you like... horror movies?" the boy asked, clearly trying to strike up a conversation.

Before Serena could answer, Robin piped up from below. "She's more into movies where the girl kicks the guy's ass at the end."

Serena bit back a laugh as the boy turned beet red.

Steve leaned against the counter, grinning. "You know, if you really want to impress her, maybe rent Alien. Total badass movie. Might even score you some points."

The other boys behind him started snickering, clearly not helping their friend's case.

"Steve," Serena muttered, shooting him a glare, though she couldn't entirely hide her amusement.

"What? I'm just giving him solid advice." Steve held his hands up innocently, then turned to the kid. "But honestly? Probably not happening, buddy. She's way out of your league."

"Steve!" Serena hissed, her cheeks flushing as she turned back to the boys. "Ignore him. He's an idiot."

"Hey, I'm just being realistic!" Steve protested, but Robin shoved him aside, now standing with her arms crossed.

"Okay, boys, let's not take up too much of Serena's precious time, hmm?" Robin said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Some of us have actual work to do."

The boys awkwardly shuffled away, muttering to each other as they grabbed a random tape from the shelf.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Serena smacked Steve on the arm. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing! I was doing you a favor!" Steve said, rubbing his arm.

Robin snorted. "You're such a hero, Steve. Truly."

Serena rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "You two are the worst," she muttered, turning back to the register.

"Yeah, but you love us," Robin quipped, grinning as she plopped back down on the floor.

"Debatable," Serena shot back, but her laugh gave her away

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The shift had started to slow down, the hustle and bustle of earlier giving way to an almost eerie quiet in the Film Stop. Serena leaned on the counter, lazily tapping her pen against a notepad as Robin flicked through a stack of returned tapes. Steve stood near the door, twirling his keys on one finger and pretending to survey the parking lot like some sort of self-appointed security guard.

"Dead zone," Robin muttered, tossing a tape into the bin. "I swear, if one more person rents Top Gun, I'm going to scream."

Steve turned to her, a smirk on his face. "You know, it's a cultural classic. Maverick's an icon."

"Yeah, for people who peaked in middle school," Robin shot back, rolling her eyes.

Serena chuckled, her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. "Only a couple more hours to survive, guys."

Robin flopped dramatically onto the counter. "Ugh. Can't we just, like, close early? Nobody's coming in at this hour except Greg, who's going to rent Caddyshack for the tenth time."

As if summoned, the bell above the door jingled, and all three turned their heads expectantly. But it wasn't Greg—it was just a couple of teenagers who wandered in, barely looking around before heading straight for the action section.

"Never mind," Robin sighed, returning to her stack.

Serena leaned back, tapping the pen against her lips.

Robin sat perched on a nearby stool, lazily flipping through a magazine. "Whatcha working on, Queen Wheeler?" she asked, glancing over.

"Just a song," Serena muttered without looking up, her pen trailing over the paper.

"Oh, is this the one about, like, existential dread and failing to live up to societal expectations? Because that was a banger," Robin teased with a smirk.

Serena rolled her eyes but didn't respond.

Steve, who was stacking tapes on a nearby shelf, perked up at Robin's comment. "Wait, you're still writing songs? I thought you gave that up after you tried to teach Mike guitar, and he broke a string and blamed it on the universe conspiring against him."

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Steve," Serena said dryly. "And no, I didn't give up. I just don't tell you guys because this is exactly the kind of grief I get."

Robin snorted, leaning over to peer at the notebook. "Come on, let us see. I promise I won't mock you."

"I'll pass," Serena said, snapping the notebook shut.

"Aw, come on!" Steve said, abandoning his stack of tapes to join Robin at the counter. "We could be, like, your first audience. I've got great taste in music."

Serena gave him a deadpan look. "You thought Footloose was revolutionary."

"It was!" Steve shot back, mock-offended.

Robin snickered, but her gaze softened as she looked at Serena. "Seriously, though, you should share it sometime."

Serena smirked, opening her notebook again but shielding it from their view. "Thanks, but no thanks. It's not finished anyway."

Steve gasped, feigning betrayal. "Wow. You're lucky I don't get you fired for that one, Wheeler."

"Oh, please," Serena shot back. "I'm the reason we still get any customers under thirty."

"Okay, okay, I'm calling a truce before this gets ugly," Robin interrupted, still laughing. "Let's all agree Steve's ego is fragile, and move on."

Steve groaned, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Fine. Just don't come crying to me when Greg asks for my expert film advice and not yours."

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The flicker of the TV filled the quiet film shop with a soft glow. Robin leaned against the counter, remote in hand, absentmindedly flipping through the channels as Serena reorganized a shelf of VHS tapes. Steve was in the back, counting inventory.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing on," Robin muttered.

"Then turn it off," Serena said, not looking up.

Robin paused, landing on the local news channel. The familiar Hawkins logo flashed on the screen. "Hold on, this might be something," she said.

Serena turned her head just as the anchor came into focus. The seriousness in his tone made her pause.

Serena stood there, arms tightly folded across her chest, her brow furrowed in deep concern.

The news anchor's voice filled the room once more. "At this time, the identity of the victim remains unknown, but we can confirm that the individual was a student from Hawkins High."

Serena's heart dropped into her stomach, a cold knot forming there as her eyes remained glued to the screen.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her bag, gripping it as if it might somehow steady her. She felt an overwhelming sense of panic surge through her, making her pulse race. The words "Hawkins High" felt like they were echoing in her head.

Steve turned to Robin, his voice quiet but laced with worry. "I mean, who would do this? It's gotta be serious."

Robin's gaze was fixed on the screen, her face twisted in confusion and concern. "I don't know, Steve... I don't like this. Something about it doesn't sit right."

But Serena wasn't listening. Her mind was racing, thinking of all the faces she passed in the hallways—people she barely knew but still recognized.

The lights started to flicker ever so slightly.

A voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Serena?"

Then they stopped.

She blinked rapidly and looked over at Steve, who was watching her carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You alright?"

Serena swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat. "I—I don't know. It's just... it could be anyone, you know? It's not like the trailer park is full of strangers. We've got kids from school living there."

Her voice trailed off as she shook her head, not wanting to finish that thought. She wasn't sure why this was hitting her so hard—maybe because it felt personal, like she was connected to it, even if she didn't know the victim.

"Do you think they'll tell us who it is soon?" Robin asked, breaking the silence as she rubbed her temples.

"I don't know," Serena murmured, her tone distant.

Steve sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... too messed up, man."

The bell above the door chimed as Dustin and Max walked into the video store, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. Steve looked up from behind the counter, his face immediately dropping as he recognized the determined look in Dustin's eyes.

"Hey, Steve," Dustin said, walking up to the counter with a purposeful stride.

"Someone was murdered," Steve said flatly, his voice a little too serious.

"How many phones do you have?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Two. Why?" Steve replied, giving him an odd look.

"Technically three, if you count Keith's," Serena added casually.

"Yeah, three works," Max chimed in, leaning against the counter with a sigh.

Dustin, who hadn't been listening to any of that, started to take off his backpack, practically tossing it onto the counter without a second thought.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, raising his voice in disbelief.

"My pile!" Robin shouted from behind the counter, her face scrunching in horror as Dustin's bag landed directly on top of a stack of her VHS tapes, sending them scattering to the floor.

"No! No! My tapes! Dude!" Steve complained, his hands flailing in the air.

Dustin didn't even flinch. He climbed over the counter, shoving past Steve, as if he was in the middle of a mission that couldn't be delayed.

"What are you doing, man?" Steve said, his voice trailing off in confusion.

"Setting up base of operations here," Dustin answered, completely unfazed by the chaos he was creating. He walked to the computer and started typing rapidly.

"Base of operations?" Serena questioned, arching an eyebrow from where she stood.

"Get off," Steve muttered, clearly flustered by the situation.

"I need it," Dustin insisted, his eyes glued to the screen as he typed away.

"For what?" Steve said, still not following.

"Eddie's friends' phone numbers," Dustin replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Eddie, your new best friend you think is cooler because he plays your nerdy game?" Steve teased with a tint of jealousy.

"Yes. I never said that," Dustin shot back, his voice defensive. "Plus, Ren is part of the club now."

Steve shot Serena a look, one that clearly screamed you're involved in this too?

Serena threw her hands up in mock surrender. "I had no choice."

"She beat all of their asses," Dustin added helpfully, grinning from ear to ear.

"Anyways," Robin said, finally emerging from behind the counter with an exasperated sigh. "Maybe on a Monday, you can play around, but it's Saturday."

"It's our busiest day," she continued, her arms crossed tightly as she shot Dustin a glare.

"Robin. I empathize, but this cannot wait." Dustin was already ignoring her, focused on the phone number search on the screen.

"Oh my God," Steve groaned, clearly out of patience.

"Calling Eddie's friends is an emergency?" Serena asked.

"Correct!" Dustin said, not looking up from the computer.

Steve turned to Serena, his face full of dread. "Want me to strangle him, or do you want to?"

"We can take turns," Serena said.

"I'm sure that'd be real productive," Steve muttered, shaking his head.

"Can you just fill them in while I do this?" Dustin finally asked, not even bothering to look up.

"Fill us in on what?" Steve said, exasperated.

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Serena leaned against the counter, keeping a casual eye on the few customers meandering around, while Steve—predictably—was attempting to charm a blonde by the VHS rack.

"Yes, Eddie Munson," Dustin said, speaking quickly into the receiver. "When's the last time you talked to him? Seen him? No? Okay, thanks anyway."

Max, flipping through a phone directory while cradling the receiver on her shoulder, added, "Reefer Rick? Does he have a last name? I mean, it's kind of—" She glanced around.

"—Important," Robin finished for her, leaning over the counter while gesturing with her free hand. "I don't think Eddie's at the arcade. Nope, pretty sure."

Meanwhile, Steve held up a VHS copy of Doctor Zhivago with a winning smile, pitching it to the blonde. "It's double VHS—long, yeah—but it's packed with action, romance, suspense. A little bit of everything."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "So my boyfriend won't, like, totally puke when I bring it home?"

Serena couldn't help the smirk that crept across her face as she interjected from the counter. "Boyfriend, huh? He'll love it. Trust me."

The girl brightened. "Great. I'll take it!"

Serena rang her up with practiced ease. "Here you go," she said, handing the blonde her change. She shot a teasing look at Steve. "Why don't you walk her out? Y'know, make sure she gets to her car safely."

"Yeah, totally," Steve muttered, slightly deflated as he escorted the girl to the door.

"Hey, guys, I might have a lead!" Max called, slamming the phone down.

"Seriously?" Dustin perked up, pulling his headset off.

Max nodded, pacing. "Apparently, Eddie gets his stash from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes he crashes at his place."

"Sounds promising. Where does Reefer Rick live?" Robin asked, leaning forward.

"That's the thing—nobody knows," Max admitted with a frustrated sigh. "Apparently, he's more of a legend than a real person."

"Reefer Rick?" Serena echoed thoughtfully, propping herself up on the counter. "I've heard the name floating around. Never met him, though."

"We don't even have a last name," Max groaned.

"I bet the cops do," Steve said, reentering the conversation with a fresh energy.

Max spun toward him, incredulous. "What?"

"The cops," Steve repeated, gesturing. "I mean, if this Reefer Rick guy is actually a dealer, he's probably been busted before."

"Seriously, Steve? That's your big idea?" Dustin said, clearly unimpressed.

"Look, I believe in the whole 'innocent until proven guilty' thing, but I don't think we can rule Eddie out yet," Steve said.

"That's exactly what we're trying to do here!" Max snapped.

"And maybe we'd make more progress if some people spent less time trying to find a girlfriend," Dustin shot back pointedly.

"Hey, somebody has to attend to the customers!" Steve defended himself, gesturing to the empty space where the blonde had been standing.

"Especially if they're hot blondes," Serena added with a sly grin, folding her arms.

Steve pointed at her. "Not fair. I help all customers—babes and non-babes alike."

"Okay, then," Serena challenged, jerking her chin toward a guy who had just wandered into the shop. "Help him."

Steve looked over, visibly hesitating. "We're in the middle of something here!"

Serena rolled her eyes and hopped off the counter. "Alright, enough of this." She walked over to the computer, tapping rapidly on the keyboard.

"What are you doing?" Max asked, following her.

"Maybe we don't need a last name," Serena said, her eyes narrowing as she worked.

The computer beeped. "Twelve Ricks have accounts here," Serena announced.

"Lot of Ricks," Robin quipped, leaning over her shoulder.

"Let's narrow it down," Serena said, scanning the screen. "Rick Alderman: rentals are Annie and Dumbo." She wrinkled her nose. "Not likely."

"Agreed," Max said.

"Rick Conroy: Sixteen Candles, Teen Wolf... Yeah, no," Serena continued.

Robin, catching on, glanced over Serena's shoulder as a new name popped up. "Rick Lipton. Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke."

"Bingo," Serena said with a grin, snapping her fingers.

"Lipton?" Max repeated.

"Spelled like the tea," Robin said, reading aloud. "2121 Holland Road."

"That's out by Lovers' Lake," Serena said thoughtfully.

"Middle of nowhere," Steve added.

"Perfect place to hide," Serena said, sharing a knowing look with the group.

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The group pulled up into the driveway, the headlights cutting through the suffocating darkness. The air was still, save for the occasional chirp of crickets. Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked toward the house, flashlights bobbing in their hands.

Dustin rang the doorbell a few times, his impatience evident. "Eddie! It's Dustin!" he shouted, the sound echoing into the night.

"Great. Guess he's not here," Steve muttered, already annoyed.

Serena stood a few steps back, scanning the scene with sharp eyes. Her flashlight swayed idly in her hand, casting moving shadows on the ground. "I don't know. Feels like he's close," she murmured, mostly to herself.

"You're just saying that to be mysterious," Steve said, rolling his eyes.

"Am I?" Serena replied, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

Before anyone could argue further, her gaze locked onto something—a boathouse near the lake, its silhouette barely visible in the dim light. She gestured with her chin. "Over there."

The group followed her, their flashlights revealing the structure as they approached. Serena reached the door first and pushed it open without hesitation, the hinges groaning loudly.

"Anyone home?" she called, her voice casual but carrying a strange authority.

"Hello?" Robin said, stepping in behind her.

"What a dump," Steve muttered as he followed, shining his flashlight across the cluttered space.

Serena ignored him, her eyes roaming over the room. She wandered over to the boat covered by a tarp, her movements calm but purposeful.

"What are you doing?" Dustin asked, his voice sharp with nerves.

"Looking for signs of life," Serena said, her tone airy, almost teasing. She tilted her head toward Steve, who had grabbed a rower and started banging it on the tarp.

"Seriously?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"What? He could be under here," Steve argued.

"Yeah, and hitting him with a stick will totally win him over," Serena deadpanned.

Dustin groaned. "Just take the tarp off if you're so curious."

"I'm not touching that," Steve said, backing off.

"Of course not," Serena muttered. She crouched down near a pile of bottles, running her fingers over the labels. "Someone's been here recently."

Max wandered over. "So, what? He got scared and ran?"

Robin shook her head. "I mean, maybe. I would've."

"Don't worry," Dustin said sarcastically. "Steve can protect us with his mighty oar."

Steve scowled. "I know you think you're funny—"

Before he could finish, a figure burst out of the shadows, moving so fast it was a blur.

"Whoa!" Dustin yelped, stumbling back into Serena, who caught him with one hand while her flashlight whipped up with the other.

The figure grabbed Steve, slamming him against the wall, and held a gun to his neck.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Steve shouted, his voice breaking slightly.

The flashlight beams landed on the intruder's face—Eddie Munson. His wide, terrified eyes darted between them, his grip on Steve tightening.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eddie!" Dustin shouted.

"Eddie, stop!" Serena's voice cut through the chaos like a knife.

Eddie's eyes flicked to her, then back to Dustin. His hand trembled slightly, the gun still pressed against Steve's throat.

"It's Dustin," Dustin repeated, his voice steady but urgent. "This is Steve." He gestured toward Steve, who gave a tight, nervous smile.

"He's not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?" Dustin pressed.

"Right. Yeah. No hurting," Steve said carefully, swallowing hard.

"Steve, why don't you drop the oar?" Dustin suggested.

Steve let it clatter to the ground. Eddie yanked him closer for a moment before shoving him back and keeping the gun aimed.

"He's cool. He's cool," Dustin assured him.

"I'm cool, man. I'm cool," Steve said quickly, holding his hands up.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie demanded.

"We're looking for you," Dustin explained.

"We're here to help," Serena added, her voice calm as she took a small step forward.

Eddie's eyes flicked to her, then back to Dustin.

"Eddie, these are my friends," Dustin said, speaking quickly. "You know Serena—from school—and Robin, who never shuts up. And Max. She's the one who never wants to play D&D."

Max raised her hand awkwardly. "Hi."

Eddie's breathing slowed slightly, his knuckles still white around the gun.

"We're on your side," Dustin said, his voice imploring. "I swear on my mother."

Eddie's eyes searched Dustin's face for any sign of deceit.

"Right, guys?" Dustin urged.

"Yes," Serena said firmly, her eyes locked on Eddie's.

"Absolutely," Robin added.

"Totally," Steve said, his voice hoarse as he rubbed his neck.

Eddie hesitated for a moment longer before finally lowering the gun, stepping back as Steve exhaled in relief.

Steve placed a hand on his neck, grimacing slightly as Serena approached. "You alright?" she asked softly, her voice steady but tinged with concern. Steve gave her a small nod, letting out a shaky breath.

Serena's gaze shifted toward Eddie, who was slumped against the wall, his entire body trembling. He looked utterly terrified.

"Eddie, we just want to talk," Dustin said, crouching down to his level, keeping his voice calm. He reached out tentatively, but Eddie flinched, pulling his hand away.

"Okay... okay," Dustin said gently, raising his hands in surrender.

Serena crouched beside Dustin, her eyes meeting Eddie's. Her tone was even, but there was an unmistakable warmth in it. "We just want to know what happened," she said.

Eddie sniffled, his red-rimmed eyes darting between the group and the floor. "You won't believe me," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Serena tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. "Try us," she urged.

The group edged closer, forming a loose circle around Eddie, their faces a mix of curiosity and quiet concern. Eddie hesitated, then swallowed hard.

"Chrissy... her—her body just, like, lifted up into the air," he stammered, his voice shaking. "And, uh... and she just, like, hung there. And her bones—uh, she..." He stopped, choking on the words.

Serena's throat tightened. She didn't move, barely breathed, as Eddie's words sank in. Chrissy's dead? The girl she'd seen only days ago, smiling in the hallway at school, was gone.

Eddie's hands trembled as he held his head. "Her bones started to snap," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her eyes, man... it was like there was something—like there was something inside her head pulling. I—I didn't know what to do, so I... I ran."

His voice cracked on the last word, and he looked down at his lap, tears forming in his eyes. "I left her there."

A heavy silence fell over the group, only broken by Eddie's labored breathing.

"You all think I'm crazy, right?" he finally asked, his tone sharp with desperation.

"No. We don't think you're crazy," Dustin said, his tone firm but kind.

"Don't bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds," Eddie snapped, his voice rising in frustration.

"We're not bullshitting you," Max chimed in, her voice quiet but resolute.

"We believe you," Serena added, her eyes locking on Eddie's. There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt.

Eddie exhaled shakily, looking at them with a mixture of disbelief and cautious hope.

"Look," Dustin said, his tone shifting, becoming more serious. "What I'm about to tell you is gonna be hard to hear."

Eddie blinked at him, his brows furrowing. "Okay?" he said hesitantly.

"You know how people say Hawkins is... cursed? They're not way off," Dustin began. "There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours."

"Like ghosts and shit?" Eddie asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

"There are some things worse than ghosts," Max replied, her tone grim.

Dustin nodded. "But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you. If they're back again, we need to know."

Serena leaned forward slightly. "That night, did you see anything else?" she asked, her tone gentle but insistent.

"Dark particles, maybe?" Max suggested.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust," Dustin added.

Eddie shook his head, his expression growing distant. "No, man. There was nothing you could see or... or touch. I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she was in a trance or something."

"Or under a spell," Serena said softly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Eddie looked at her, his eyes wide. "A curse," he whispered.

"Vecna's curse," Dustin said, his face pale but determined.

Steve, standing slightly behind the group, furrowed his brow. "Who's Vecna?" he asked, the name foreign to him.

Dustin looked up at him, his expression grave. "An undead creature of great power."

"A spell caster," Eddie said quietly, as if the words carried weight.

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Serena exhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat. She pressed her palms against the brick wall behind her, trying to ground herself.

"Ren?"

She turned to see Robin standing a few feet away, her hands stuffed awkwardly into her jacket pockets. "You okay?" Robin asked, her voice softer than usual.

Serena shook her head, unable to form the words. Robin stepped closer, leaning against the wall beside her.

"Chrissy?" Robin guessed quietly.

Serena nodded, her throat tight. "I can't stop thinking about her," she admitted. "It's like... I keep seeing her. Smiling, laughing, just... alive. And now she's... gone."

Robin hesitated before speaking. "You knew her well?"

"Not really," Serena admitted. "But she was always nice. To everyone. She didn't have to be, you know? People like her, they don't usually... they don't..." She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Robin nodded slowly. "People like her don't get caught up in stuff like this," she finished for her.

Serena pressed her hands to her face, trying to push down the surge of emotion threatening to spill over. "She didn't deserve this," she said, her voice muffled.

"No one does," Robin said, leaning her head back against the wall.

"I just... I can't stop thinking about how scared she must've been," Serena whispered finally, her voice trembling. "What Eddie said... it's like she didn't even know what was happening to her. She couldn't fight back. She couldn't..."

Robin looked over at her, her expression softening. "You can't carry that, Serena," she said gently. "What happened to Chrissy... that's not on you. It's not on Eddie, either. It's on... whatever the hell is out there."

Serena didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the cracked pavement beneath her feet. She knew Robin was right, but it didn't make the knot in her chest loosen.

Robin nudged her shoulder lightly. "Hey. You're allowed to feel this, okay? It's okay to be angry. To be sad. But don't let it drown you."

Serena nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed it.

"I just don't know how to do this," she said softly.

Robin smiled faintly. "None of us do."

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