༉˚*ೃ ᵒ⁸. 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒!

𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 books slammed down in front of her. Sar coughed as dust rose in the air, choking her lungs, and she waved a hand before her face to clear the particles. "Sorry," said Steve apologetically, brows furrowed.

           Sar pushed them to the side of the library computer she was sat at. "Those are the only ones you could find?"

          "On interdimensional beings? Yeah." Steve placed his palms down on the table, gesturing casually to the large stack. "Monster manuals, mythology, science textbooks, science fiction novels, all there. Everything we could ever need." His finger pointed to the books proudly, shrugging as his mouth folded into a casual 'what-d'ya-know?', rubbing beneath his nose.

          Sar's eyes rolled, just a little. "Steve, we need real facts on this."

          Still with his hands braced on the table, Steve shook his head. He glanced around them quickly—maybe making sure no one he knew was catching him in a library. Then his eyes turned back towards her. "There are no real facts, Sar. There's never been an—" he quietened his voice to a hiss, "—interdimensional monster recorded. Or an alternate universe." He tapped the front cover of Frank Herbert's Dune, before brushing off some dust. "So these are the best bets we've got.

          Her eyes squinted at the heavy book in his hand. "I don't think you're going to find anything in Dune."

          "How can you be sure?"

          "Because the monster is certainly not a sandworm and I very much doubt it's a kangaroo mouse."

          Steve deflated, even despite the exasperated expression she was levelling her with. "Try to take this seriously, Sar," he sighed.

          Sar, despite everything, let out a short huff of air that was the equivalent of a laugh, at the absurdity of the situation. She shook her head. "I am. And this monster isn't going to be in Dune." Steve looked a bit downcast, chucked the massive book down onto the table with a loud thud. Several people in the library turned their way, and Sar and Steve both ducked their heads down. The tops of their heads were practically touching. "At least pick out a book which includes interdimensional travel, not space travel." She tapped at the glossy hardcover, glanced up at Steve with the edges of a smile lifting her lips.

          "The sandworm sounds kind of like the monster," he grumbled to himself, taking a seat in the chair across from her and placing the copy of Dune onto the floor.

          Sar looked at the selection. He was right, of course. There was nothing written about interdimensional monsters. But it wasn't just the monster that was the key. What Sar needed was something solid linking it to Hawkins Lab, something that showed the lab knew how to end this. Maybe some hints in newspapers... Still, Steve had amassed quite a collection. "Have a look at the others," she told him. "I'm going to find some microfiche files, see if anything like this has happened before." She stood, chair squeaking, and gravitated towards the microfiche shelf. There, she flicked through the hundreds-upon-hundreds of files and picked out whichever sounded of interest. Sar found herself amassing a collection of Hawkins' Lab files. Once satisfied, Sar gathered them all in her arms and walked to the librarian. The woman watched her suspiciously through large glasses.

          "Uh, am I allowed to use the microfilm reader?" Sar asked, still standing with a limp. The librarian pursed her lips, looking over Sar's shoulder at the pile of books on the desk she shared with Steve. Sar glanced back too, before turning to the woman once again and grinning sheepishly with her teeth. "It's for a school group project. May have gone a bit overboard. Sorry about that."

          "No," the librarian brushed off, standing, "that's perfectly fine." She was a short woman, with curly brown hair and in a primly ironed blouse and skirt. It looked a little stiff. She pointed to a room in the back, leaning out past Sar. "You're free to use it."

          Sar's smile lifted, "Thank you." On the way there, she passed by Steve. He was already flicking through the first book, some textbook about astrophysics. Sar wasn't exactly sure that would be of much use, but she supposed they had to deal with what they got. "How many people have gone missing again?" she asked, pausing by his chair for just a moment.

          The boy glanced up at her. It had taken him about thirty minutes to do his hair this morning, and he'd insisted on locking the door. What secrets of how he managed to keep his hair so perfectly fluffed up were a mystery to her. His foot was tapping quickly against the ground. "Only two. Will Byers, and Barbara Holland. Y'know, some people just think they've skipped town, or are playing hooky or something... but..."

          "But they're not," finished Sar.

          Steve glanced at her eyes again. "Yeah."

          The blonde girl bit her lower lip and gave a sharp nod. She held one of the microfiches up. "That's what we're going to prove." Walking with a limp to the microfiche room, Sar got it up and running, slid the first one into the reader. She had collected various articles on different suspicious happenings in Hawkins, but Sar naturally found herself gravitating towards those regarding Hawkins Lab.

          She trembled as she skimmed through the papers. 'WOMAN CLAIMS HER BABY WAS TAKEN BY HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY'. 'DR. MARTIN BRENNER NAMED IN LAWSUIT'. 'CRAZY MOTHER, OR NATIONAL CONSPIRACY?'. 'DAUGHTER JANE IVES WAS TAKEN, CLAIMS TERRY IVES'. 'VANISHED! INDIAN GIRL MISSING IN LONDON'. God, so, so many. Sar wondered if there was one for her, somewhere amongst these, that she didn't know. If she read an article about who she'd been before Hawkins Lab, would she even recognise it?

          But it was all just stuff she'd known before. Missing kids and lawsuits and dodgy happenings at the Hawkins National Laboratory. Nothing on their connections with something bigger so far. And yet, this had to be their doing. Sar flicked to another microfiche, and paused. 'JAMES MOORE, THE CHILD STOLEN FROM HIS BED IN PHOENIX, ARIZONA'.

          Sar zoomed in on that one. There was a shaky black and white image of the young boy. He couldn't have been older than six in the photo, but the shape of his young jawline and nose was an instant giveaway. She pushed it back out again, so the light was illuminating on the child. "Hey... I found something." Her thoughts were soft, reaching across the hundreds of cities.

          "What is it?" James was always pretty quick to respond. Sar glanced towards the library clock. No doubt he was making Katie breakfast.

          "Actually, it's a newspaper article about you. About... before." Before was a heavy word. "And I found your surname."

          Silence passed between them. "My surname?"

          "Yeah. Moore. James Moore." It sounded right, now, in her mouth. The kids of the lab had never had the luxuries of knowing their full names, of knowing their previous lives. That had been taken from them. Sar's voice was wistful, "We could find your family, James."

          "Sar, you know it's probably a lost cause—"

          "But what if it's not?" Her thoughts cut in, sharp and determined and so hopeful. "Imagine, James. You could have a mother and father." Christ, they'd all always wanted it so bad. They'd all dreamed of it. "It says it right here: 'Catherine and Alexander Moore claim that their son, James, age six, was taken from their family home in Phoenix one night. When reported to authorities, the search went unsolved. Three weeks later, the two parents are still urging civilians to be on the lookout—"

          "That's enough, Sar," James replied. His quickness stopped her. "You and Katie are already my family."

          Sar hovered for a moment. "Yeah, but you could have parents. Like, real ones." Her throat felt closed up.

          She could hear in his tone that he wasn't trying to get his hopes up. A lot of parents had come looking for their children. And a lot of parents had died. "They probably wouldn't even remember me."

          "Of course they would, James. You're their son—"

          "What're you looking at?"

           Sar jumped violently, hands jolting against the desk. Her connection severed in shock. "Jesus, you gave me a fright," hissed Sar to Steve, who was looking confused. She took a second to recover her breath, fingers flying up to her chest.

          "Sorry, I didn't mean to." Steve's brows were furrowed apologetically. Then his face pinched and he leaned forward to peer at the article on the screen. "What's that?"

          Her eyes turned back to the projection on the screen. "Oh, um..." Sar flicked back a few slides to the article about Hawkins Lab's alleged—true—tampering and kidnapping of children. "I think they might be connected. You know, Hawkins National Lab, it's dodgy as hell. They've got all kinds of legal suits against them. And they border the forest we were in." Sar glanced back at him with her wide blue eyes. "Strange things have been going on there for years."

          Steve scanned the first few lines of the article. "If that's the case, we should go poke around. Do a good bit of investigating. Do you think they might have Will and Barb?"

          Sar's heart gave a great stutter. A jump. Of panic, and fear, of her mind screaming, 'no!'. It was as if she'd suddenly been doused in icy water. "I don't know about Will and Barbara," she managed out, staring blankly at the microfiche reader screen. 'DESPERATE MOTHER CALLS FOR THE FINDING OF HER ONLY DAUGHTER', printed in black ink, on the lower half of the paper. Everything inside her told her that she should never, ever step back foot in that wretched place. Not even on the accursed grounds, not even anywhere in the vicinity. The idea of seeing its tall walls, its metal gates... Sar's fingers instinctively went to scratch at the number on her wrist, an itch, before she caught herself. "Okay," was what left her mouth. Terror, was what she felt—but she needed to know if there were more kids inside, more that had perhaps evaded her powers. And maybe it was time to face her fears. "Okay."

༉*ೃ༄

word count: 1,741

originally posted, 22.12.2017.

revised and rewritten, 09.11.2020.