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𓆩♡𓆪
BROOKE SOBBED INTO THE couch for hours before she saw the red and blue lights go down her block and to the Byers. She managed to move her body, back hitting the floor. Jonathan. Jonathan needs me, is all Brooke thought of. Her dad never walked back through the door so she was in the clear to leave. The only problem is herself and if she can even step foot outside without seeing the image of Will.
Brooke's hand lingers over the front door knob. She decides she just needs to go out or she'll psych herself out.
The cold air hits her tear stained face and she runs to the Byers house. She keeps swallowing back the lump of tears trying to come up. Brooke stops in her tracks when Hopper leaves the house. Her sneakers aren't the quietest so Hopper hears her coming and immediately runs up to her, arms out to block her from going any further.
"Brooke, you okay?" The soft tone catches Brooke off guard as she tries to step around him but he steps right where she is. "I—I need to see Jonathan and Joyce—"
"Joyce is not—okay right now. I think you should go home," Hopper says. Brooke's eyes and lips are swollen as she tries to fight her way around him. "Hopper! Hopper! Let me get to Jonathan!" Her tough exterior does not falter even if she feels like she's dying on the inside. "Brooke, please just go home!"
"Fuck off, Hopper!" Brooke finally has enough of him and pushes him with the strength she has left. Hopper stumbles back enough that Brooke can get past. She opens the front door and locks it behind her in case Hopper decides to just come in. Brooke is stunned at the things around her. The alphabet painted on the wall in big black letters, the Christmas lights strung everywhere.
She becomes less concerned with that when she hears a sob from Joyce. The woman turns the corner, just looking at Brooke before marching into the backyard only to come back a minute later with an axe. "Joyce," Brooke carefully approaches her. Joyce looks up at the girl teary eyed and scared. That's the emotion written all over her face. Not grieving—scared.
"You okay?" Brooke softly asks. "He isn't dead, Brooke. I talked to him. I heard him! There was this thing that came through the wall—"
Brooke doesn't call the woman crazy or look at her like she's crazy. Brooke just sits down, moving the axe from Joyce's hands and she wraps her arms around her. Joyce welcomes and accepts the hug. It's nice to not have someone call her crazy because she knows her boy. Brooke is just thinking that maybe the delusions are better than the grief process right now, so she just lets Joyce continue her rant.
BROOKE HAD SNUCK OUT under Joyce's arms last night. She figured the grieving family would want to be left alone. She's been sitting in the field at her high school after she snuck back in and changed, Brooke didn't want to be home.
