WARNINGS: possible allegory to r*pe when the mind flayer does his little ✨ possessing ✨. It's not meant to sound like it, but when I wrote Will getting possessed I'm pretty sure some people compared it to that and I just want to be sure yall are safe reading this so [■■■■■■] these guys are back. Hope this helped! + oh yeah also brief mention of gore and v*mit [yes I censored that, let's move on] but they all fit inside the warning markers.

A/n: can't remember if I put this before but f/d = favorite drink

Yay! Mall Rats is finally here! Lots of fluff and lots of references, cause I'm trashhh 🤙There's a lot of dialogue and not a lot of scene descriptions this chapter. I'm sorry, it's just hard sometimes. I'll be dropping something else, something I'm genuinely surprised nobody has noticed yet. I'm also thinking of dropping in a kind of question of the d̶a̶y̶ chapter thing? just something I'm trying out but

Who is your favorite Cosmic pairing and what's the ship name?

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

An eery silence stretches across the town of Hawkins, from the bustling new heart in Starcourt Mall all across town to the edge of its grassy hills. Sitting in the shadows of these grasslands, tucked in with blankets of discarded steel and machinery all being pulled back into the earth to be properly claimed is the stomach of the town; Brimborn.

Unlike the heart, it is shrouded in darkness, death, and decay. It sits abandoned just miles off the main roads and welcomes nothing but trouble. Once nothing but an empty husk of potential had long since reared its head and swallowed a darkness-the sickness of Hawkins-that now resides deep in the belly to be digested.

And it had just gotten its first taste in months.

Billy Hargrove stumbles out of the darkness of the steel stairway and into the forgiving light of the moon.

His face nearly collides with the concrete on at least three occasions in the time it takes him to run back to his car. His adrenaline spikes with every frantic beat of his heart and heaving of his lungs. The rubber soles of his boots punch the concrete, only hammering in the fear of being pulled back under. He can't understand what he just saw, nor can he hold off the feeling of nausea brewing in his gut much longer as he fumbles for his keys in his pocket.

It would seem he has enough luck to get inside the car and start it. The sound of tires squealing against the pavement is music to his ears. He's back on the road just as soon, head pounding painfully as he tries to keep his shaking hands that grip the wheel from throwing him off the road. And they are able to do so for several minutes-several minutes of Billy choking down air and adrenaline while the smell of burning diesel from his car stings the back of his throat. And yet still it wasn't the worst sensation in his mouth by far. He could still taste the rot sitting on his lips and tongue... from that... that thing...

He doesn't know where he's going apart from away-as far away as he could get from Brimborn until he sees a box of light in the distance just off the side of the road. A payphone. He could call someone. Hell, if this thing was chasing him-if it got him someone should at least know what little he did. His car lurches off the road with one swift yank on the wheel and suddenly his tires are screaming against the asphalt again. Clumsily Billy throws open his door and tumbles out onto the streets, stumbling to the payphone he had spotted.

He's already on the phone before he realizes; time was still moving in blurs catching every other moment as he blacked out. Yet another miracle he managed to make it down the road safely in his car. Billy's chest heaves up and down as he drowns in panic, trying so desperately to get ahold of each breath.

His eyes, bloodshot and wild, sweep the darkened streets and he jumps when a soft click goes off in his ear.

"911, what's your emergency?"

At once, everything comes back to Billy, still in flashes.

He remembers a lurch in his gut when the car spun out, followed by a searing pain in his temple that spread throughout his skull in a dull ache. He can smell smoke from the busted engine. It was covering up a smell of rot and sewage and... and an overwhelming sense of copper like an old change jar. It was similar to the smell coming from the blood running down his face. Its texture almost similar to the slime he felt on his fingertips when he saw the state of his windshield.

Another lurch in his heart when something shrill cried out as it scurried by.

And then his face was in the dirt. Something had hooked his leg and reeled him in. Billy remembers the pain of his nails clawing at the dirt. And then concrete and then metal stairs. He can feel it all burning his stomach too like road rash. A blood-curdling scream tore from his throat as his fingers burned, they were in searing pain as they clung so desperately to the iron doorway where they eventually lost their battle.

[■■■■■■]

What followed never held the absence of more pain, that was all he knew. From his chin colliding with every metal step, to the thousands of tiny feet clawing at his body as the swarm closed in. And ultimately the unbelievable anguish of that thing invading every cell in his body. It all happened so fast, even in the moment and he was left but nothing but the horrifying image of a bloodied tentacle attacking his face.

Every attempt at a scream was shoved back down his throat along with the dark and bloodied mass spewing from its insides like icy vomit. He could feel it going everywhere, soaking through into his bloodstream and it traveled throughout his body.

[■■■■■■]

And just as Will Byers had experienced half a year ago; Billy felt every essence of warmth cease to be, and all that existed was icy darkness. And there it remained.

He could feel it even now as he stood underneath the flickering lights of the phone booth.

I̵̢͖̘̪̞̻̜͍̪͛̌͘͝s̴̮͈̮̟̮̥͔̃͘ ̶͉̂͛ş̷̳͉͖͖̠͉͉͇͖͆ó̴̝̰͉̟͙̘̝̥̲͂͌̒̿̅͝͝m̵̖̐̌̽̐͋̊̏͝e̵̛̜̘̰̫̩̋̅̊ͅo̷̢̫̻͙͕̫͚̮̅͗̃̃̐͊̋̕͜͠ǹ̶̡̞͖̪̯͉͓̖̜̳̉͝e̷̬̞̣̝̬͕̱̫͊̏ ̴͕̇̌͆͑̄͋̄t̴͎̯̥͉͌̕h̶̹̚͜e̴̯͔͓̬̗̞̥̳̠͜͠r̶̨̬͎̬̙͉̩͐͜ë̸̥̣̺̘̭́̇̽̉̓̐̕͘?̵̼̠͛̋ ̸̪͒͋H̸̭̺̞̬̖̎̓̇̐͆͐̚͝͠ͅe̸̢̲͎̭͊̄͗̌͌͝l̶͉̉͜͜ḽ̵̠̟̻̅̏͗̏̒̌͜͝o̵̖̙̼͓̽̓̎?̶̩̱͎͍͉͓̅̑̈͋͝

Darkness. That was all that was left after the distorted voice died out with the rest of the booth. His eyes flew everywhere, but not for long. An impossible chill fell over his already frozen body when he realized what was so wrong.

The world outside the phone booth was not how he left it-not how it was only moments ago. The beautiful summer night sky was swallowed by storm clouds, taking all warmth with it. The air was heavy and sticky, a combination of humid and cold all at once. It was hostile, and it wreaked of decay. But what startled Billy most was the glistening array of vines that engulfed the earth and everything on it.

In a sickly daze, he stumbled in front of his car. Its headlights seemed to shine brighter than the moon and yet it was not enough to illuminate the oncoming army of figures marching through the fog.

"What do you want?" He asked, feeling brave. When they didn't answer, he stalked forward several steps and raised his voice in a panic. "Hey! I said, what do you want?"

No answer. Just the haunting sound of the marching of the faceless army. He matched their step, just a notch slower thanks to the fear filling his lungs. Billy was too afraid to notice the scarlet lightning raging up above his head.

"I said, what do you want?!"

The faceless army stopped but its leader remained in a steady march straight for him. Try as he might, Billy couldn't bring himself to take another step. He could only watch with bated breath, heart in his lungs beating so loud he could hear it in his ears as the figure revealed himself to him. When he did, Billy's next breath was stolen right out of his chest.

Standing there before him was another Billy Hargrove.

||𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Are you sure you know how to ride that thing?" I quip, watching as Max tumbles off her board for the sixth time since she got on.

"Do you wanna give it a try?" she asks, smirking. "Wanna see if you can do a kickflip?"

"Oh, that's not a question I need answered," I say, finishing another sip of my f/d. I put it back down on the curb beside me where I sit, and lean back with my hands propping me up in the grass. "The question is, can you do a kickflip?"

"I can, I told you," she huffs, turning her board back over. "I did one this morning,"

She mounts her board and tries again. The board flips under her feet but never comes full circle. Her feet land on the edge of the underside and she stumbles back. Max releases another frustrated huff, moving the bits of hair that had fallen over her face.

"I'd give that a solid 4.0," I comment.

"Why are you here again?" She asks, stopping to look at me. Her face is stern but anyone could see she was teasing. Mostly.

I laugh and stretch out my legs.

"Cause you love me?" I offer, sheepishly.

Max clicks her tongue, pretending to think about it. "Mm, no I don't think that's it."

"But you don't deny you do?"

"Whatever," she scoffs, hopping back on her board.

"You do love me," taking a long, loud sip of my drink I grin with my eyes and she rolls hers.

I tip the f/d all the way back, lick my lips, and sigh.

I ultimately decide I've put it off long enough and I rise from the curb.

"I'll be back. I gotta whiz,"

Max eyes the empty glass of f/d I have in my hand and smirks. "Surprise, surprise. You're gonna run us dry at this rate,"

"You guys ate all my Mac n Cheese," I wink, and she blushes. "I'm just doing the neighborly thing and repaying the favor,"

Max rolls her eyes and scoffs, and feeling victorious I disappear inside.

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Max's eyes linger where Y/n had disappeared and her lips threaten to hook upwards in a small smile. She quickly shakes her head, forcing herself to focus back on the task at hand.

Maybe if she got a running start.

Max takes off on her skateboard and gives it another try. The board barely moves.

Her third attempt is the closest but still wields no results.

And when she tries a fourth, her board flies out from under her and cruises down the road.

Where it lands at El's feet.

Max straightens, unsure of where this was about to head. She watches carefully as El picks up the skateboard and makes her way over.

Was this really happening?

El had never wanted anything to do with anyone other than Mike, and Y/n.

So what was she doing here?

"Hi," she says.

"Hi?"

El hands her skateboard over to Max, her steely composure melting a little.

"Is Y/n here?"

Max's shoulders fell, any hopes she had growing in her chest dashed.

"She's inside," Max said, trying to mask her disappointment. "She'll be back out in a minute,"

Max took her skateboard and returned it to the concrete, ready to hop back on. But El's words stopped her in her tracks.

"Can... we talk? All of us?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Welp. Another day, another migraine for Robin Buckley. She couldn't even pretend to care anymore as she numbly hands over what had to have been the sixth dozenth ice cream cone of her first shift.

"Have a nice day," she drawls, passing the cones to the over-eager couple.

"Thanks!" They turn away, heading for the door, revealing the next over-eager customer in line.

He bounces up to the counter, wearing a Roast Beef tee, bright yellow ball cap, and a toothless grin.

"Hi!"

Robin blinks. "Hi," she says carefully.

His smile never wavers, even when he seems to catch on to her cluelessness. He gestures to himself.

"I'm Dustin," he clarifies.

"I'm Robin,"

"Pleasure to meet you," man, this kid's optimism was a little unnerving. Impressive, but unnerving. But hey, at least it was something new. He glances over her shoulder and back to her expectantly. "Uh, is he-? Is he here?"

"Is, who here?"

The sudden and obnoxious sound of rubber shoes squealing against the freshly waxed linoleum floors ripped their attention to the employee-only door. It had been thrown open as the figure before them had nearly crashed through. There stood an overzealous Steve Harrington wearing his usual Scoops Ahoy uniform and a growing grin.

His mouth falls open in a gape, unable to contain his excitement and he throws his arms up.

"Henderson,"

Dustin laughs excitedly as Steve begins bouncing around the counter to greet him.

"Henderson! He's back!" He cheers. "He's back!"

"I'm back!" He cries, gesturing past a Robin and her startled expression to the giant Scoops Ahoy sign. "You got the job!"

"I got the job!" Steve blows an imaginary trumpet before going in for their handshake.

As it always did, the handshake gradually morphed into a false battle, imaginary lightsabers drawn and clashing. Each of them create their own sound effects. Dustin thrusts the invisible blade of light into Steve's abdomen, who in turn illustrates his fake wounds. The pair of unlikely friends fall into a fit of giggles, while a less than impressed Robin watches in boredom behind the counter.

The name had already registered, but she was still a little shocked at the other Henderson she never had a chance to meet. She always forgot there were two, and if Robin was being honest, she preferred the other one so far. Sure, the girl stared a lot but she seemed less... well whatever this was.

Looking at her coworker, she tilts her head and cocks a brow. "How many children are you friends with?"

The young man sighs, exasperatedly swiping a hand over his mouth as he gestures to her, giving Dustin a tired look.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"No," Steve laughs through a cracked smile. "No way! Hotter than Phoebe Cates? Nah,"

Dustin hums, swallowing a bite of his ice cream, and nods excitedly.

"Brilliant, too! And she doesn't even care that my real pearls are still coming in. She says kissing is better without teeth,"

"..." Steve nods, trying his best to not let his nervous laughter shine through. "Wow! Yeah, um-well that's great! I'm proud of you man, that's rom- that's kind of romantic. That's like... wow!"

Dustin hums happily in agreement, swallowing another bite of his ice cream. He shakes his head.

"Do you really get to eat as much of this as you want?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugs. "I mean, sure. It's not really a good idea for me though. You know, I gotta keep in shape for the ladies,"

-"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Dustin and Steve follow the voice across the shop to see Robin shooting them a knowing look.

"Ignore her,"

"She seems cool," Dustin's smiles.

"She's not," Steve says, eyeing the foot traffic outside Scoops Ahoy momentarily. "So, where are the other knuckleheads?"

"They ditched me yesterday,"

As Dustin digs out a spoonful of his U.S.S. Butterscotch Sundae, Steve laughs off the boy's last comment in disbelief.

"What? No way,"

"My first day back. Can you believe that shit?"

Steve's face falls when he sees the look on Dustin's face. He sits up in his seat, growing angry.

"Woah, seriously?"

"I swear to god, mhm."

"No, no not Y/n though?" Offered Steve, sounding genuinely surprised. "I mean, I don't think she wanted to admit it but she was pretty psyched about you coming home,"

"Yeah, Steve. Even Y/n," Dustin snaps. But judging by the look washing in after his outburst, he doesn't seem very committed to his anger. He sighs into his ice cream. "I mean, she tried to stick with me but she had to leave with Byers or something. Said she was worried,"

"That blows," Steve says, sighing into a hunch over the table. "I'm sorry, man."

Dustin nods, eyes still drilling into his Sundae. No doubt dwindling on his growing separation from his sister and friends. Feeling bad for the kid, Steve still remembers the events of the previous year. And if, like then, it had something to do with Will, then... Well, he couldn't really blame her. But he was broken up just seeing Dustin like this.

"Hey, I'm sure it's fine," Steve tries. "You know her better than anyone; if she's worried about something she has a good reason. I'm sure she's just being cautious, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want to be here with you. I'd just give it time,"

"I guess," Dustin frowns, his spoon playing with a cherry on his ice cream. He suddenly perks. "Doesn't matter now, though. They're all gonna regret it, anyway. Big time. When they won't get to share in my glory."

Steve sits up, growing curious.

"Glory? What glory?"

A sort of cocky smirk grows on Dustin's face and he scooches further in the booth, closer to Steve. His voice lowers a considerable amount, only doubling Steve's curiosity.

"So last night," he begins. "I was trying to get in contact with Suzie,"

Unfortunately for Steve, he catches the playful look on the kid's face and nervously nods along. The 'no teeth' comment and the small, uninvited image it forces onto his mind threatens a shiver.

"and I uh," Dustin leans in further, pausing to scan the ice cream shop as he hides his mouth behind his hand. When his next words come out, they're barely a whisper as he looks into his bowl."I intercepted a secret Russian communication."

Steve only blinks, his mind racing to catch up with the words he thought he heard. He blinks again.

"What?"

"Uh," It's clear Dustin is trying to look as casual as possible, but every attempt at doing so was only obscuring his words more. "IinterceptedasecretRussiancommunication,"

"Just speak louder,"

"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!"

The shop goes quiet, everyone including Robin who stood behind the counter stopped to look at them. Steve shifts in his seat, hastily shushing the boy as discreetly as possible.

"Jesus, yeah. OK, well that's what I thought you said." Both of them look around the shop again, relieved to see everyone had gone back to their conversations assuming they misheard. Either that or wanting to keep out of it. "Wait, what does that mean?"

"It means, Steve, that we could heroes. True American heroes."

"Ahh," Steve says through a blooming smile.

"Mm-hmm,"

"American heroes," Steve said, liking the sound of the words on his tongue.

"Just think. You could have all the ladies you want. And more."

"More?"

"More."

"I like more."

Dustin hums, and as the two think on it they can very nearly picture their glorious, hopeful future before them.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch, I just need your help."

"With what?"

Dustin only smiles, turning to his backpack beside him. Unzipping the bag, he retrieves a small red book that he displays with a hopeful smile. The title read,

RUSSIAN - ENGLISH
ENGLISH - RUSSIAN

"Translation."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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