Secrets // Steve Harrington

Chapter Twenty-Four - Christmas

Word Count: 1,094 words.

Warnings: None. 

Saying that Eddie was extremely pissed off at me would be putting it lightly. He had been worried out of his mind when I didn't come home for two days and when Hopper finally dropped me back to the trailer park and he saw both the black eye and the bandaged arm, he had been out of his mind.

I had asked for the Chief to go with me so that he could explain to Eddie the lie that had been made up. I didn't pay much attention to the details to it, knowing that if it came from the Chief of Police that Wayne and Eddie would believe it.

They didn't ask me much about what happened, but I didn't mind that. Hop had explained to Eddie that Brenner had been involved and that I was feeling scared about being lied to by someone I had known for years. The attack at the school had been put down to something like a local gang attack. If only it were that simple.

I was scared, and so that part was a complete lie, but I couldn't tell them everything. I couldn't risk putting them in danger because if there was one thing that I knew, it was that this wasn't over. We got Will back and the gate was closed but this wasn't the end. It was never the end.

Christmas rolled around within seconds and it wasn't long before I found myself curled up on the couch beside my brother, a large blanket over the two of us as we watched the TV. We didn't do Christmas presents. Well, not big one. There was very little we could afford that wasn't stolen.

"Here," Eddie told me, taking out a small, wrapped box from behind him.

I shook my head, taking my hands from the warmth of the blanket to take it. "We don't do presents."

He sighed. "After the year you've had, you deserve it."

I smiled, pulling at the tape that had been placed poorly and taking off the paper packaging. My smile dropped as I looked at the book in front of me.

I ran a shaking hand along the title, tears springing to my eyes without permission. "Is this..." I trailed off, turning to Eddie.

He sniffled, clearly trying to hide his own emotions. "I found one of the stores that dad pawned all of mum's stuff at. It was staring right at me in the window."

I smiled sadly, taking the book from the packaging and opening the front page. I couldn't help the tear that fell when I saw her message written on the front.

To my darling children,

Never let anyone tell you that your imagination isn't enough. You can go anywhere and be anything.

Love, mum.

I sniffled. "She used to read this to us every night."

Eddie wrapped his arm around me, pulling my body into his. I took the book with me, my head now lying on his chest. "What do you say we read this instead this year?" he asked, picking up the remote to turn off the TV.

I nodded, handing him the book. "You read."

Clearing his throat dramatically, he opened the first page of Gulliver's Travels, preparing his impressions for each of the characters. I giggled, hugging the blanket tighter to myself.

"My father had a small estate in Nottinghamshire," he began, and I couldn't help but smile at the horrendous British accent he was putting on. Mum's was much better, but I would take his. "I was the third of five sons. He sent me to Emanual College in Cambridge at fourteen years old, where I resided three years..."

I listened to every word, even when my brother's voice got hoarse from talking and the accent slipped. It wasn't my favourite Christmas, not in the slightest, but it was one of the better ones. We were alone, Wayne working, but we were together and for a moment, a single day, that was all I needed. Eddie. A save haven to come home to. They were rare to come by.

We fell asleep on the couch that night but I was awoken at some dark hour of the morning to a knock at the trailer door. Eddie hadn't stirred – he was entirely too heavy of a sleeper – and so I quietly and carefully peeled myself off of him, tiptoeing towards the door.

It was cold when I opened it, but the confusion that settled in my mind was enough to counter that. There was no one there. I searched the area, seeing if I could spot a running figure. The night was dead.

I spared a glance down before closing the door and stopped short of shutting it. There was a box on the step and immediately I thought of ignoring it, throwing it in the nearest hole, but I didn't.

Leaning down, I picked it up carefully, opening the top of it with a gentleness I didn't know I had. There was a small piece of card on top and so I picked that up, reading it.

Merry Christmas Two,

There are things that you don't understand but I thought I would return to you what was in your room the night you left.

Love, Papa.

I scowled at the name at the bottom of the note. Papa. I remembered calling him that. Everyone did. I remember how I thought he was my father. That he would protect me. How wrong I was.

In the box there were two things, not a lot making up a person. A small, silver pocket watch, smooth on both sides. It didn't tick. The hands didn't move. I suppose after this many years, it was bound not to work.

It was the second item that pushed fear into my stomach and up my throat. A picture, the colours made with crayons. It was the one that I had seen in my memories. The Protector that One had drawn. I shuddered.

I hadn't heard him since that night at the Byers' house and I hoped to never hear him again. He was dead, that was what Brenner had told me. I didn't trust him on most things, but I trusted him on that. For some reason, I knew that he was dead. I should be able to... feel him.

I looked out at the dark night, the cold wind brushing by me, surely compromising the heat that we had gathered in the trailer that day. I took a deep breath upon spotting him, his smile watching me from beside a nearby tree. The dead man that haunted me.

"I'll protect you Two." His voice was like the wind. "I'll keep you safe. Always."