feel

1

THERE WAS nothing quite like the gurgling noises of demons as they drowned in the amber liquid burning down her throat. Nor anything quite like the feeling of memories as they dissolved from her brain like the smoke trailing in front of her through the air.

She could almost hear the screams flashing through her head and ringing behind her eyes.

"You're doing it again."

The amber liquid poured down her throat faster as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Losing yourself."

A soft smile tugged at her features and her heart.

"Car, you've gotta stop doing that. I know it's hard - Car, look at me."

Another sip. Another tear.

"Where are you?"

"Carter."

The voice dragged her from underwater, the bends stealing her breath as her eyes tried to flutter open - but only fluttered.

"Carter, where are you?"

"You're miles away."

A hand came up to wipe the tears away. She didn't register her own fingers as they ran across the wetness on her cheek, drifting down to touch her smile.

"Celeste."

The name made the smile slowly leek from her face and her eyebrows scrunch together. Oxygen forcefully pushed its way down her lungs, filled with shards of reality that stung like gravel as she swallowed.

"You've gotta stop doing this, Car."

"Celeste Carter James."

Air swept into her lungs as a hand came down on her shoulder. The fingers gripped so tightly they tore her concentration away from the memories she tried so hard to keep centered in her vision. But the nails digging crescents into her shoulder made her eyes finally peer open, pupils dilatated in the light after being scrunched for so long.

Concerned eyes peered into hers, searching from one unfocused eye to the other.

"Celeste."

And then she could suddenly feel again. She wished she couldn't, but she did. The air ached as it pushed through her lungs like butter, the gravel grinding and churning under her ribcage.

Carter let her head lull to the side, away from the steady gaze watching her too closely.

"I'm fine, Hop."

Jim Hopper's eyes continued to search hers as they avoided his gaze. He didn't believe her for a second, but regardless, he let her have her space.

They continued to watch the girl as she slipped off of the chair she had been sitting on and moved to the kitchen to place the whiskey bottle back on the table.

"Who was it this time?" Hopper asked, arms crossed but face softened in poorly-masked pity.

Carter hesitated, hand frozen from pulling away from the bottle, lips parted as her mind began to backtrack.

"You're doing it again, Car."

She snapped out of it, shaking her head.

"My brother."

Hopper opened his mouth to say something, anything that could create hope at stopping her pain, but he could not think of anything sufficient enough before she spoke.

"Listen, Hopper. I didn't come here for therapy. I came here for alcohol," Carter spoke softly, but Hopper did not mistake the bite in her words.

"For you it's the same thing."