CARLA ISN'T SURE WHERE SHE WAKES UP.

Her body jolts up, eyelids fluttering open in alarm. Her body is curled up on a couch, which sits in a dimly lit room. Finally coming to her senses, Carla looks around and is quick to realize this isn't Steve's living room. Or her own.

Another goddamn nightmare.

The Wheeler girl uncurls herself from the couch, standing up. There's an odd eeriness that brings chills to her skin—the light in the other room is flickering, a sound that brings too many memories to the front of her mind, a television in front of her is blaring nothing but static electricity.

Glancing around the room, the Wheeler has no clue where she is. It isn't any home she's been too, or a place in Hawkins she can recall—not like Brimborn Steelworks was. Looking around, for once, she genuinely has to recollection of where she is.

Odd.

"Dad!"

A sudden voice pierces through the room, and there's a thudding of footsteps. Carla tenses up, but her brows furrow as a cheer-jacket clad Chrissy Cunningham sprints into the room. 

Chrissy Cunningham?

The last time Carla's dreams had ever held a person like this were when she woke up in Brimborn Steelworks the summer of '85, watching a flayed Billy Hargrove do whatever the Mind Flayer bid in the basement of the business—most of the time, it was simply her seeing people she knew getting hurt, or creatures from her past. Sometimes even her flayed self.  

Chrissy was someone that Carla knew little of. She saw her in the halls chatting away with her cheerleader friends or with Jason's arm slung over her shoulders. All the Wheeler knew was that she was a beloved cheer leader, her cutely crooked smile and bright blue eye shadow adored by those at Hawkins High.

Not enough for the blonde to be featured in a nightmare.

"Chrissy?" Carla calls for the girl, voice loud enough for her to hear yet still quiet, "Chrissy? Can you hear me?"

The Cunningham girl darts straight past the Wheeler towards the rocking chair in front of the girl and the Wheeler takes that as a no.

Just like when she saw Billy, it seemed that Chrissy couldn't hear her either. She was simply a viewer, forced to watch everything happen without intervening—she'd watched the entire Holloway family get flayed, unable to do shit. 

"Dad!"  Chrissy shrieks, voice cracking as she rushes into the room, ponytail swinging back and forth. Her voice sounds like it's one wrong word away from breaking completely. "Dad—"

Carla's eyes widen in horror as the rocking chair turns around to reveal a man, his eyes and mouth grotesquely sewn shut. Blood pours down his cheeks and the Wheeler girl puts a hand over her mouth.

What the fuck?

Chrissy let's out a blood curdling scream of utter horror, the man—her father based on the name—responding to her with a guttural sound of his own, though it comes out muffled due to the stitches sealing his lips. 

Carla doesn't know what's happening. She feels sick to her stomach at the sight of the man and Chrissy's scream rings in her ears. The light in the other room starts to flicker more spontaneously, and before the Wheeler girl can even begin to feel ever weirder about the whole nightmare, an all too familiar burn starts to spread through her wrists.

Carla knew that feeling too well. The burning in her wrists was almost a signal to something otherworldly being in her presence. 

Something from the Upside Down. 

And given this was a nightmare, Carla didn't have to think too hard to know what it all meant together. She only got Upside Down nightmares like this when something bad was about to happen.  Something—

"Chrissy."

The voice is enough to send chills down Carla's spine.

Chrissy is standing in the doorway, frozen still. Carla looks above her at the stairs, heart thumping profusely in her throat as she watches a figure walk down the stairs, squelches and distorted gurgles following him.

The Cunningham sprints in the other direction and Carla doesn't need to be told twice before following. Chrissy's father twitches back and forth violently, muffled screams piercing through the eery silence. 

The blonde girl comes to a halt in a dining room where tons of plates sit, molding and rotting upon the table. Flies, spiders, and other creatures are crawling atop the edibles, flying around and buzzing obnoxiously. It's all rather unsanitary and unsettling.

Carla knows she won't snap out of this nightmare until it's over, until whatever she was supposed to see was seen, but God, she had too. The voice, the sewn eyes, this rotting food....it was putting a feeling of nausea in the pit of her stomach. A feeling of wrong.

All she wanted to do was wake up. Wake up and see Steve's sleeping figure beside her and know everything was okay.

"Chrissy."

The voice echoes again and Chrissy is on her feet even faster, darting down the hallway to her front doors. Carla follows, watching as the Cunningham girl unlocked the doors, revealing wood planks blocking the outside, stopping her from escaping.

"No!" Chrissy cries out before slamming her palms against the wood. She begins to thrust her body against the blockage, shrieking, "Help! Help! Somebody, help me!"

Carla feels utterly helpless, standing in the hallway in front of Chrissy's thrashing figure, unable to do anything. God, she wants to help—she really does. She doesn't know Chrissy Cunningham at all, but she wants the girl to escape whatever hell she was currently living in.

 But Chrissy can't see her, and the Wheeler knew she wasn't really there. She was just watching, spectating—she could't help Chrissy the same way she could't help Heather, or Mr. and Mrs. Holloway. 

The cheerleader keeps slamming herself against the wood, begging for someone to hear her. Carla winces at her broken wails, but before she can try to do shit, her wrists start to burn in a way the Wheeler had never felt before.

Instead of an unsettling burn, it simply felt like her wrists were on fire. An unbearable pain that caused an unexpected sound of pain to leave the Wheeler's lips. Her figure slightly stumbles back at the intense affliction and she leans against the wall, mind a mess of confusion and pain.

"Chrissy."

The voice chimes a third time, thudding footsteps following. Unsettling grumbles trail after it. Chrissy whips around, practically shuddering.

A figure emerges out of the shadows, growling and grumbling. Carla's eyes widen in horror as the creature stalks out, unsure on what she was even looking at.

It was tall, with a gray body. Vines were twisted around its slimy figure, creating something that seemed like it could be human if it wasn't so horrifyingly disfigured. Menacing grumbles left it's mouth—the creature was something unreal, seen only in the worst of nightmares

Carla's scars seemed to burn even worse the closer the figure got and she had to stop herself from making any sounds—Chrissy couldn't hear her, but who knew if this thing could? The creature passes by the Wheeler and halts in front of the Cunningham girl, tilting it's head to the side as the girl whimpers.

Its giant claw comes up, a long and bony finger coming to caress Chrissy's cheek. "Don't cry, Chrissy." The cheerleader lets out a sob, "It's time for your suffering to end."

The creature lifts a curled hand right over Chrissy's face. Carla's mouth drops in horror as its nails dig into the girls flesh.

The Wheeler doesn't know what the hell's happening. She wants to scream, run away from whatever the hell she was witnessing but she can't. Her feet feel locked into the wood floor, her back glued to the wall. She's frozen in fear.

"Carla...."

The Wheeler feels her figure grow cold as the creature says her name. The way it came from him in a low, menacing grumble made the girl's skin crawl—it was somehow worse than how it rolled from Billy's flayed lips. Opposite of the way Steve said it in utter adoration, or how Jonathan laughed it, or how El's light voice called out for her.

This voice was menacing. Threatening. Looming. 

"Did you think I forgot about you?" The creature steps away from Chrissy and removes his hand, the teenager landing on the ground with a solid thud. Her jaw is locked open, eyes rolled into the back of her skull with blood trailing down her cheeks from the sockets— dead. "Did you think you escaped?"

Carla shakily asks, "What do you want from me? What did you do to her?!" 

"The same thing I'm going to do to you, Carla."

The monster thuds over to where Carla was pressed against the wall. The Wheeler's heart race as he stands in front of her, current position reminding her of when the Demogorgan attacked her.  She glues her body tight against the wall as the creature steps closer and closer.

"I want you, Carla." He growls. "And I won't stop until I have you at my side."

 It raises a hand and Carla starts to shake her head frantically. She saw what happened to Chrissy. 

"Where you rightfully belong."

She feels her eyes roll back and a scream leaves her lips. The pounding in her head gets more and more intense until images start flashing. 

A rip in Hawkins. 

A red world. 

Chrissy's dead body tangled in vines.

A chiming clock.

Multiple figures floating in the air. 

Broken jaws, bloody eye sockets.

Her own body floating in the air with glazed over eyes. 

Steve, Eleven, her family, everyone she's ever known and loves dead. 

The creature looming amongst it all. 

Carla jolted awake to not only her nightmare, but to the sound of knocking on the door. 

Her body is drenched in a cold sweat, her head pounds, her heart is racing. Carla's eyes dart around—she's not in Chrissy's house. She's not pinned to the wall by whatever creature. She was in Steve's room. In Steve's bed.

She was okay. 

The Wheeler let's out a tired sigh, looking at the alarm clock. For once, it wasn't an ungodly hour of the night, but instead a decent hour of the morning—it was an okay time for Carla to be awake. 

It must have been an okay time for everyone else, too, because the knocking on the door seemed to grow louder and more persistent. 

Carla knows the person on the other side has no idea that they're causing the girls headache to grow worse with their erratic banging, but, God, she wishes it would go away. The echoing of a fist against wood seems to be the only sound, circling around in her mind, taunting the aching her skull was already trying to support. 

Nothing had to be that important this early in the morning, anyway.

Yet, Carla lived in Hawkins. A place where, despite its normal appearance, crazy things hide in the darkest of corners, always ready to attack. While the knock could just be a delivery, or mail—maybe a letter from Will thanking her for the birthday card she'd sent up a week ago to make sure it go to him in time—Carla didn't want to risk it being an important message from one of her friends.

Besides, Steve wasn't home. It was her job to answer the door for shit regardless. 

So, the Wheeler girl got out from the Harrington's bedsheets, feet hitting the cool wooden tiles. As quick as she can, she finds her shorts from the previous night and throws them on, as well as a pair of socks. 

She doesn't miss the note that's laying on the dresser that reads, "Went to work. If you don't decide to come see my gorgeous face during your break, I'll see you when I pick you up. Have a good day at work. I love you—Steve." 

Steve always wrote her little letters or sticky notes before he went to work if Carla was still asleep when he left. It was dorky, but the Wheeler always smiled reading them, even the most simplest, like today's.

Work. Carla almost groaned at the thought of putting herself together and smiling at people for an entire day—she loved her job, don't get her wrong, but after seeing what she saw in her nightmares? How could she help people after seeing them all dead? 

But, Carla had to show up. The library was the only way she made money to go and visit the Byers and El. Every shift counted towards a plane ticket to and from California. 

The Wheeler finally leaves Steve's room, making a pit-stop in the bathroom to grab the bottle of Advil before treading downstairs. The banging at the door grows louder each step, and Carla's sure the family photos on the walls and basketball trophies on shelves are physically shaking with the force of the knocking.

"Maybe she's just at the library—" 

"No, I called the library and they said she didn't work for another hour—"

Carla unlocks and twists the doorknob with her free hand, swinging the door open to reveal Dustin Henderson and Maxine Mayfield standing on the Harrington doorstep. 

Dustin sends an 'I told you so' expression to the redhead. "What did I say?" 

The Wheeler gives an unimpressed face as she stares at the two freshmen. Her eyes squint against the abrupt brightness the outside provided, "What do you guys need? I have to work in about an hour and I'm not really feeling great, so—"

Max surprisingly cuts her off. "Have you seen the news?"

"....No?" Carla replies, a hint of a question in her tone. "I just woke up."

Dustin's face stills—Carla doesn't know if she's ever seen him look so serious. His hat reads 'Thinking Cap' in a bold font, but his features don't match the feel of the head wear. "You're gonna want to see this."

The Henderson doesn't even let the older girl reply before brushing right by her into Steve's house, Max following with a solemn expression. Carla looks back at the teens who walk into the Harrington's living room, as if they have a mission to accomplish.

"See what?" Carla turns around, closing the door. "Dustin, this isn't my house, I can't just let you —" Her eyes squeeze shut painfully, the slamming of the door much louder than what she expected—would anything not set off this headache? "God."

She heads for the kitchen, opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass of water. Filling it with just enough to down a pill, Carla opens the Advil bottle and puts two capsules in her mouth, bringing the liquid to her lips to wash down the bitter medicine.

At the same time, Dustin takes the remote sitting on the coffee table and clicks the 'On' button, the television coming to life. Cartoons begin to play, but the curly haired boy skims through channels until he reaches a news channel. 

A reporter stands in front of a trailer, which is surrounded by people. In the back, police tape crosses off the home from any unqualified passerby. "We're in the Forest Hills trailer park in East Roane county."

Carla recognizes the place as where Max lives, and glances at the girl. The Mayfield purses her lips, expression unreadable. 

"We don't have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning—"

Carla almost spits out the remaining water in her mouth.

The words hit the Wheeler like a punch to the gut and she sets the glass of water on the counter before she drops it. Images dance around her mind—Chrissy Cunningham running banging against the wood to escape the creature, its nails digging into her skin. Her body tied up by veins.

It couldn't be.

Chrissy Cunningham was watching the news right now and the student who died was someone else. This was all just a cruel and sick coincidence. Right?

"Police have not released the name..." Carla stalks over towards the television, a sense of dread filling her head. Not knowing who the body belonged to somehow made her feel worse; she couldn't even find the closure of knowing that Chrissy wasn't the dead student. "....although we are told they're currently in the process of notifying the family."

It was probably just some druggie who overdosed on something Eddie Munson gave him. Trailer park trash that just so happened to make the local news because nothing interesting ever happens in Hawkins. Carla was working herself up after the nightmare, and her head pounding wasn't helping. She was getting anxious over nothing. 

Random people die from random reasons every day, Carla has to tell herself. Not everything has to be connected to your nightmares.

Max admits, "It was Chrissy Cunningham." 

Carla's day couldn't have gotten worse.

The Wheeler feels her breath get caught in her throat, images of her nightmare flashing through her mind. Chrissy screaming. The creature's hand over her face, nails digging into her flesh. Her body thudding to the floor with an open jaw and rolled back eyes. 

No, no. She must have misheard Max. Chrissy Cunningham wasn't dead; it was a fucking dream. 

She manages to quietly ask, "What?" 

"It's Chrissy's body." Max voices, tone firm. She recalls what she'd seen earlier that morning, Carla listening with a feeling of nausea bubbling in her. "That trailer is across from mine. I saw her body. She was murdered." She pauses before adding, "It was Eddie Munson's trailer."

Murder. That's new.  

For the past few years, the only tragedies or deaths in Hawkins have been related back to the Upside Down in some way or form, in which only the same group of people returned to fight. It was never a person, a killer stalking the town.

And Eddie Munson as a murderer? Sure, he was a little erratic at times, and he played D&D, which was seen as a satanic game to some in town, but she would never put the mask of cold hearted killer on him. He welcomed Dustin and Mike in Hellfire, and they spoke nothing but highly of him. Killing a cheerleader didn't seem right.

Then, again, Carla didn't know Eddie Munson. And Dustin and Mike had only met him this year. Who knew what he could do? 

But, Carla knew that this murder wasn't caused by killer, per say. Dustin and Max wouldn't come knocking on her door like this just to show her the news if Chrissy's death was nothing more than a tragic accident; a townie gone savage on a teenage girl. 

Carla wouldn't have seen the Cunningham die by that mysterious creature and then find out she was truly dead if this was just an average death.

No, the Wheeler knew all of this led back to the Upside Down, no matter how much she wanted to deny it—which she desperately did. 

"But, it wasn't Eddie—" Dustin tries to reason, before taking in the Wheeler's expression. She looked pale; sick. "Carla?"

"I....I had a nightmare last night." Carla admits. She rarely told anyone about her nightmares, but this felt too important to leave out. "Chrissy was in it. There was this....this creature. It wasn't like anything we've ever seen before, but he told her it was time for her suffering to end and then he put his hand over her face and it killed her. I saw Chrissy die in my nightmares." She wraps her arms around her figure. "And I think it's been enough years now to know that my nightmares aren't entirely made-up." 

Dustin and Max looked at each other with knowing expressions. 

The Upside Down was back. 

Carla, Dustin, and Max bike to Family Video. 

Throwing on a pair of jeans, a striped t-shirt, and a brown jacket to keep the light March chill away, the Wheeler didn't veto Dustin's idea of going to the movie store. He had a plan, and, while Carla didn't tell the Henderson, she'd feel a bit better if she had her boyfriend at her side right now.

After all, the Upside Down was presumably back and Carla had seen some monster in her nightmares that almost proved it. Of course she wanted her boyfriend to hold her and tell her everything would be fine.

Steve had taken his BMW to work, and any other transportation of Carla's was at her own home, which left her to steal the Harrington's old bike from his garage and pedal down to the plaza, wind blowing against her hair as she followed the preteens, a million thoughts racing through her head.

Who was the creature she'd seen? Was Eddie Munson behind this? Why was her body in his trailer if the Munson boy wasn't? Was he flayed, like Billy had been? Why wouldn't her headache go away?

The wheels of their bike hit the pavement of the plaza and the trio quickly hop off, not even bothering to try and use the bike stands. Dustin leads the way, pushing the Family Video doors wide open with a mission in mind. 

The bell chimes, signaling their entrance. Steve and Robin, who were both behind the front desk watching the news, whirl around to see who'd entered. The Harrington feels himself slightly lighten from the news he'd just heard—there'd been a murder of a Hawkins High student, how crazy!—when he spots his girlfriend, but he notices her worried expression and immediately feels concerned. It doesn't help that Dustin and Max don't seem too happy, either.

"Hey, Steve." Dustin paces towards the front desk.

Steve gestures towards the television, which was set to Channel Nine, continuing on with updates on the news story. "Did you guys see this?"

 Dustin leans against the desk, "How many phones do you have?"

"Someone was murdered—"

"How many phones do you have?" Hands on the counter, the Henderson repeats himself, dragging out the sentence for clarity.

Before leaving for the store, Dustin had explained that they needed to find Eddie and fast. He was the only person who'd know what truly happened to Chrissy. The Henderson confirmed that they could do that with a few phones and the computer system that was perfectly set-up at Family Video.

Carla didn't know any better and decided it was worth a shot. 

Steve glanced at Robin, who gave a 'Just answer him and he'll shut-up' look back before replying, "Uh, two. Why?" 

Robin points to the back office, "Technically three if you count Keith's in the back."

Max quickly looks at the Dustin, the two nodding at each other in unison, "Yeah, three works."

The curly haired boy whips off his backpack, slamming it down on the desk. Steve tries to hide his annoyed sigh—he had work to do, today wasn't the day for Dustin to goof around. "What are you doing—"

His sentence is cut short as the Henderson flings his bag right across the desk.

Both employees jump back to avoid getting their feet crushed and Steve quickly exclaims, "Whoa! What are you—"

Robin screeches, "My pile!"

Dustin leaps atop the counter, legs swinging around as he tries to hop over the desk—rather than just crossing around. As he swings around, his feet manage to swipe a pile of tapes right off the counter, Carla cringing back as they clatter against the floor. 

Steve's eyes widened and his hands went in the air, "No, no, no! My tapes! Dude!"

The pairs protests are ignored by Dustin, who could less shits about Steve's precious pile of re-winded tapes. He finishes his stunt and hops onto the seat in front of the computer, fingers clicking against the keyboard to start it up.

Max and Carla go around the counter, choosing the easy and normal way around—the Wheeler's sure her boyfriend will have an aneurysm if she or the Mayfield knock anything else down. The redheaded girl moved right next to Dustin, while the brunette passes behind her boyfriend and helps Robin pick up the tapes the Henderson had shamelessly knocked down.

Steve rushes towards his younger friend, exasperated. "What are you doing, man?!"

"Setting up base of operations here." Dustin replies, rather unfazed. His eyes are locked on the screen as he types away.

Robin pops up, a stack of tapes in her hands. "Base of operations?"

"Stop. Get off of that—" Steve huffs as the Henderson clicks away. If Keith saw this, he would be fired. He looks to side, watching as his girlfriend sat his stack of tapes neatly on the counter once more. "Carla, why did you bring him again?"

Carla turns around to look at her boyfriend. She gets Dustin is annoying as hell at the moment and more erratic than he needs to be so early in the morning, but this was important.  "He needs it. Trust me."'

"Needs it for what?"

Listening in from where he was sitting, Dustin replied, "Looking up Eddie's friends phone numbers." 

"Oh, Eddie." the Harrington sourly states, thinking of the mullet headed boy that Dustin had befriended. To say Steve didn't like Eddie Munson was an understatement—sure, he'd bought weed from the boy a few times in his high school years but he'd totally stolen Dustin away! He wasn't even cool. "Your new best friend Eddie who you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game?"

"Eddie, yes—" Dustin sighs, irritated. He'd had this same argument with Steve since he started talking about the Munson boy. However, he cuts himself off when he processes the ending of the Harrington's sentence and whips around with a confused expression. "I never said that."

Robin picks up her own tapes, stacking them against the counter. The sound shouldn't be as obnoxious as it is to Carla, and she almost opens her mouth to tell the girl to stop—the keyboard clicking, clattering of tapes, arguing of friends, ringing of phones; it was all growing a bit much for her headache. 

"Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it's a Saturday. It's our busiest day." the Buckley rambles, though none of the group truly listens to her reasoning. 

Dustin grabs a random clipboard and the pencil beside it, beginning to scribble down numbers over an already existing table—sometimes Steve and Robin couldn't figure out the computer and needed a written example of who returned what and the tapes that needed re-winded.

The Henderson boy doesn't blink. "Alright, look, Robin, I totally emphasize, but this cannot wait untill Monday." 

Steve runs his hands over his face, groaning into his palms. "Oh my God..."

Robin questioned, "What? 'Cause calling all of Eddie's friends is an emergency?" 

Dustin snaps, "Correct!"

"Can we please stop yelling?" the Wheeler manages, putting two fingers to the side of her temples. She had no Advil, she was going to have to deal with her headache. 

Steve hears her statement and turns away from Robin—to whom he'd asked if whether she wanted to strangle the boy or wanted him to do it first—to look at her. Fingers on her temples, tired expression; once again, he was catching her not okay. 

Before he can even begin to ask his girlfriend whether or not she felt fine, Dustin whips around at Max, growing annoyed with the questioning. "Can you just fill them in when I do this?"

"Fill us in on what?" Robin inquires, turning around. She looks rather exasperated and annoyed. 

Max gives an eye roll and glances at Carla, who nods at her to start telling the story. Steve glances at his girlfriend, who wraps her arms around her figure, clearly uncomfortable with whatever was happening. 

Steve searches her brown eyes for an answer. The look on her face made him feel uneasy. "Hey, Carla, what's going on?"

The two girls try and explain everything as simply, yet as in depth as possible. They explain how it was Chrissy's body, and how she was found in Eddie Munson's trailer, after Max watched the two teens enter his home together after the basketball game. Max proceeded to explain the odd things that happened last night—the flickering lights—which makes the Wheeler girl frown; she hadn't heard that part. Max heard Eddie scream like a maniac and watched as he ran out of his trailer before driving away like even more of a maniac. 

Carla started explaining the nightmare she had, which emphasized the main point—all of this went further back than just a murder. She talked about how Chrissy was the center, of the creature and how it killed her. She left out the images that flashed in her mind before she woke up. Steve felt his heart sink in his chest as his girlfriend words.

He knew what her nightmares meant, too.

Once caught up, Steve and Robin understood the urgency of Dustin needing to find Eddie—he was a suspect of murder, and they needed information on what happened before he was in a jail cell.

So, Dustin, Robin, and Max started calling the numbers that the Henderson boy had managed to find, asking questions such as 'Have you seen Eddie recently?'  and 'Where does he recently hang around?'  to try and get locations. They got answers of Gareth's house for band practice, the arcade, the Hideout to drink, and Skull Rock to smoke. All of which legitimate places, yet, too obvious if Eddie was suspected for a murder.

Carla sat on a stool, knee bouncing anxiously. In her hands there was a whiteboard with names written, to which the Wheeler crossed off as the Buckley, Henderson, or Mayfield told her they'd tried calling. Though, she wasn't doing too well at said job, blankly zoning off into the 

Was the Upside Down really back? 

Every time they defeated it, something bigger returned. But, it really felt promising after what happened at Starcourt. There was a sense of peace in the air—it felt like they had truly ended everything.

Hell, Carla had died. She died with the thought that if she did, everything would be over. Had she risked everything, had she almost lost her life, for nothing? Had everything she did last summer matter?

It must have, because here they were. Carla's nightmares were back and a mysterious death has happened. Flashing lights and screaming. It was all too familiar to ignore.

Carla was supposed to be moving on to college, trying to live normally. She wasn't supposed to be still fighting monsters. It's been almost four years, now—she was growing sick of it.

Steve finishes giving a customer her movie and returns back into the store, glancing at all his friends. Max, Dustin, and Robin were pacing around with phones against their ears, but Carla stood staring into nothing, knee bouncing up and down against. 

The Harrington didn't want to believe any of this, but he knew his girlfriend did. He couldn't help but grow more worried for her. She didn't deserve to go through anything Upside Down related ever again—not after what happened last summer. 

"Hey." 

Carla snaps out of her daze, looking at Steve, who'd come up to her side. "Hey." 

Steve scans over her with a concerned expression, "You okay? You seemed a little...out of it."

The Wheeler hesitates, words getting stuck in her throat. She didn't want to sound scared, but she was. She had a nightmare with a new creature who killed Chrissy, and she died in real life, too. It was all pretty fucking weird. 

But, Steve was her boyfriend. She was already keeping enough from him. 

"It's just.....Chrissy was in my nightmare. She died in it. That creature thing just killed her." Carla admits, voice low amongst the chatter of the rest of the group who continued calling. "And now she's really dead and I feel sick about what I saw." 

"Baby, you didn't know that was real. We still don't know if it's all real." Steve comes closer to his girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Carla leans her head against his side and listens to his words. "It's all a little fucked up, but this could just be a murder. No Upside Down strings attached. Just Eddie Munson going off the rails."

"We both know it is connected to it, Steve." the Wheeler states, and Steve sighs because he knows she's right. "And honestly? I don't know if I can do it again."

Steve frowns. Carla doesn't deserve to go through it again and he wishes he could tell her that she won't. If he did, he knows he's be lying.

Max breaks up their conversation with an announcement of, "Hey, guys, I might have a lead."

Robin puts the phone down, Carla and Steve both looking at the Mayfield girl, ready to listen.  Dustin whips around, "Seriously?" 

"Yeah." the redhead nods, "Apparently, Eddie gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick and sometimes Eddie crashes there."

The Buckley chimes, "That sounds promising. Um, where does this Reefer Rick guy live?" 

Any excitement over Reefer Rick falls as the Mayfield admits, "See, that's the thing. No one knows. He's more of a....a legend than someone that people actually know." 

Carla sighs. Their biggest lead is probably a myth. Great. 

Dustin tries not to lose all hope, "Last name?"

"I don't know that either."

Steve speaks up, "Bet the cops know a last name."

"What?" Max scoffs, Robin and Dustin furrowing their brows as Carla looks at her boyfriend with a 'Seriously?' expression. 

Cops were the last people they wanted to talk too.

"Cops." Steve shrugs, stepping away from the Wheeler to explain his blunt reply, "I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he's been busted at some point. Means he's in the system."

Carla gets Steve's point, but five teenagers asking the cops if a drug dealer has ever been detained and for his last name wouldn't go over well—they'd be questioned for sure, and they couldn't exactly say they were looking for a suspect of murder, or explain that he could be innocent because of monsters.

"The cops?" Dustin repeated incredulously, almost trying to get Steve to understand how stupid that would be with how he re-said the word. "Really, Steve? That's your suggestion?" 

"I mean, I just think at this point they should probably be filled in on what we know, what's going on." Steve reasons.

"Even if we were gonna go to the cops, no one there would even believe us. Or care." Carla admits. She wants to add 'Hopper's gone' but it reminds her that they're also missing the two adults who could help them out here—Joyce wouldn't be able to fly in on this late of notice if shit went down. 

They were also missing Eleven. The main reason they'd won every fight against the Upside Down. 

Dustin takes a different approach, coming up to the Harrington to push out, "You think Eddie's guilty, don't you?"

"Whoa, I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit." Steve voiced, not wanting Dustin on his ass about the Munson boy. "I just, you know....just don't think we can rule it out." He rubs his hands together, looking at the group.

Max shook her head, arguing, "That's precisely what we're trying to do here, Steve." 

Dustin looks like he's fighting the urge to say a more obnoxious comment as he states, "And maybe we'd have a little bit more luck if you spent less time talking it up with your girlfriend, and more time trying to find Eddie!"

"Dustin, I am not fucking feeling well at all. I have a headache and you guys arguing isn't helping, I got a shitty night of sleep and you show up at the door way too early knocking like a maniac, I'm supposed to be at work in five minutes, and this entire situation is making me feel even worse." Carla suddenly snaps out, causing the whole group to look at her. "You have had so much attitude recently, and it's really not  necessary. So, unless you, or anyone else here, has something genuinely useful to say, I don't want to hear it." 

Everyone stays silent for a brief moment Steve's gaze softens on his girlfriend. 

Robin suddenly speaks up, "Uh, I have something genuinely useful to say if I may speak?" 

Carla nods at the blonde, "Let's hear it." 

"Maybe we don't need a last name." Robin sits down at the computer, ring clad fingers typing away. Carla stands up off her stool and peers over the girl's shoulders, Steve following. She types the name Rick and searches, a list of people named Rick with accounts at Family Video appearing. "Twelve Rick's already have accounts here."

Carla smiles. She didn't know how Robin could be so smart. 

Max comments, "That's a lot of Ricks."

"So let's narrow it down." 

"See what happens when we don't argue?" Carla smiles, happy that they were getting somewhere. She looks down at the blonde sitting and admits, "I could kiss you for your thinking, Rob." 

The Buckley sheepishly smiles before beginning clicking through the different Ricks, their most recent rentals popping up. "Rick Alderman's latest rentals Annie and Dumbo. What are the chances our dealer has a family?"

Dustin shakes his head and Max denies, "Not likely."

"Alright, Rick Conroy." Robin moves on to their next Rick, "Sixteen Candles, Teen Wolf, and Romancing the Stone." 

Steve, Carla, Max, and Dustin all chorus in a hum of, "No." 

"Okay. Rick Joiner." Robin clicks another key. "Uh—Mask, Footloose, and Grease." 

"Nah." 

"Rick Kimbrough. The Blue Lagoon and Splash." 

Steve and Robin laugh, Carla shaking her head firmly. "Gonna say no." 

"Okay. Rick Lipton." Robin switches to the next suspect, a new list of films coming up. "Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Cheech & Chong's Next Movie, Cheech & Chong's Nice Dreams—" As she speaks, Carla smirks, making eye contact with Steve as he holds a 'That's got to be him' expression. "Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke."

Dustin smirks. "Bingo."

Max reads the last name again, "Lipton?"

"Spelled like the tea." Robin confirms, reading off the address. "2121 Holland Road."

Carla pictures the address in her head. She'd passed the street on her way to Lovers Lake with Steve, to which they'd been many times. "That's out by Lovers Lake." 

Max manages a small smile. "Middle of no where."

A house in the middle of nowhere that belonged to a myth of a man that no one seemed to know? Pretty plausible for Eddie Munson to be hiding low at. 

Robin grins. "It's a perfect place to hide."

Steve quickly helps the final customers while Max and Dustin write down everything they know so far, Robin closing up the store. Carla uses one of the phones to tell Marissa she's come down with a cold—she feels bad lying, but she doesn't know what other excuse to pull so abruptly on her boss—before helping everyone get ready to go.

Within a few minutes, the group lock up Family Video early for the day and squeeze into Steve's car, heading off to find Reefer Rick's home with the hope that Eddie Munson would be there, ready to tell his side of the story.

mara's misc!

guess who wrote literally 95% of this in a day???

the family video scene was really fun to write and it gave me some motivation to finish the whole chapter!! i'm honestly surprised i managed to do this but oh well. i'll 100% take it over no motivation at all. 

chrissy's death had NO reason to be so disturbing. like wtf duffers???? i remember watching this scene with my friend and just being utterly silenced during the credits like that shit is horrifying.  I DIDN'T NEED TO SEE SOMEONES BONES SNAP AND JAW JUST CRACK.

nothing interesting has really happened to me to put in an a/n.....we finally moved to the theater for my show and it's so weird to be backstage and not backstage in a church. like wdym we actually have to work now???

anywho, hope you enjoyed <3 see you back with chapter 5!!