Chosen Sisters

Episode 18 - "My" Fault

   "Will you stop pacing?" Mike snapped at Dustin, sitting at the back of the bus next to Lucas and Eleven. Dustin ignored his friend's request, pivoting on his feet and walking back and forth between Anya and me.

"It's been way too long," he told us, his voice rising slowly. "Do you know what? Maybe this is all a trap and the bad men are coming to get us right now!"

"Lower your voice, Costcoville!" Anya scolded, referencing the logo on his shirt, while Lucas interrupted her with, "It's not a trap!"

"Guys, there is no way in hell my father would be working with them," I said, sighing in annoyance at their antics. "They searched my house two days ago; he isn't in the best relationship with them right now."

"See, logic!" Lucas nodded at me. "Why would the chief set us up? Nancy, maybe, but the chief?" Mike glared at his friend, raising his arms to detest.

"Lando Calrissian," Dustin pointed out, making his way back to his friends before pivoting again.

"Would you shut up about Lando?"

"I don't feel good about this," Dustin shook his head, turning around one final time to shout in Lucas's face. "I don't feel good about this!"

"When do you feel good about anything?" Lucas shouted back, and Dustin started pacing again.

"Quiet, both of you!" Anya yelled angrily, and the two junior-highers turned red. "Something's entering the perimeter."

"Bad?" I asked her as she scrunched her eyes shut, whimpering to herself. Just like Eleven, her powers were starting to take a toll on her, and I could tell something worse was going on than bruises.

"Ev... everyone just stay down," she said shakily, and the sound of cars filled my ears. "And keep your mouths shut." I crouched back under my seat, and the boys followed my example. I could almost feel the people outside get out of their cars, and I knew instantly that they weren't on our side.

"Anya," I whispered over to her. "Do they have guns?"

"They do," she answered back in a hushed tone, laying down on her hands and knees so she was more comfortable. "Can you feel it too?"

"I don't know. I mean, kind of-" Anya reached over and covered my mouth, her eyes wide as she looked at the door before pulling it back. A man outside was starting to open it. I could almost see his face when I heard a loud grunt, and his head hit the door as he fell. I heard a few more shouts of protest and the sounds of punches before the door was fully opened, and my father stepped inside.

"Where's Rachel?" he asked them, his voice low and panting hard. I slid out from my hiding space, and my father's face broke out in a relieved smile. He helped me to my feet and pulled me in tight into his chest, his fingers running a few inches in my hair as he hugged me. "Thank, God."

"Hey, Pops," Anya greeted him as she pulled herself out from under the chair, not ready for him to grab her into the hug with me. She tensed from the action, but she slowly relaxed. "We got worried that you weren't gonna come."

"Sorry I got here so late," he apologized before letting us go and looking at the younger ones standing behind us, his voice turned gruffer. "All right, let's go." They just stared at him, mouths agape. "Let's go!"

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We had all piled in my father's truck, crammed beyond extent as he drove through the Hawkins suburbs. They were all surprisingly quiet; I had assumed at least one of them would make a remark about the small space. Dad's presence seemed to do the job. It wasn't a long ride, and we pulled up in front of the Byers' house. Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce ran out the door, ready to greet us.