505. oomfs head to an alternate dimension

505 / oomfs head to an alternate dimension (Take 2)

As Erica stood outside the front door of the Turnbow residence, Lucy and Steve watched her closely, parked in his BMW across the street a few feet away. Even from the back, Lucy could see how irritated Erica was to be begging for Tina's forgiveness; Lucy had been a seventh grade girl once, too, and knew it was the pitfalls of girlhood to come crawling back to those evil bitches you once called friends.

"This definitely isn't going to work," Steve muttered as he watched Erica ring the doorbell; his hands were on the steering wheel even though they were not moving anytime soon. "Seriously, middle school girls are, like, evil."

Lucy scoffed. "Preaching to the choir, dude."

He shot her a look, brow furrowed. "Well, you weren't evil in middle school."

"Of course not," she replied, looking offended at the idea. "And, you know, when you really think about it, I would actually consider the boys in our grade meaner than any girl has ever been. Especially in middle school."

"That's just dumb."

"No, it's not," she argued, sitting up straighter.

"Name one guy who was anywhere near as bitchy as Carol."

"Okay," said Lucy, shrugging. "Tommy."

Steve pondered on this for a moment in true, deep consideration; then he tipped his head to the side in acceptance and nodded shortly.

"Yeah, alright," he said after a pause. "It's a draw."

Lucy lifted her chin, pleased with herself. "You're just ending this conversation before I bring up the fact that you were the king asshole."

He shot her a glare. "Was not."

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Admit it," she said, turning to face him fully. "Say you were an asshole and I'll shut my mouth for the rest of the time we're in this car together."

Steve didn't turn to look at her. He stared out the windshield and thought over her offer, then rolled his eyes. "You're bossy."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

Lucy narrowed her eyes at Steve now, as she slowly realized there was a reason he was not facing her; it was so she did not see the smile spreading across his face. He was enjoying the bickering, and that made her more irritated than anything else.

"Shut up," she muttered, sinking down in her seat.

He spread his hands and spared her a sideways glance, still smirking. "I didn't say anything."

They lapsed into silence again, and Lucy now kept her eyes glued entirely to the front porch where a slim teenage girl with large red hair had opened the door to Erica and was now listening to the heartfelt (and scripted) apology that Erica was presenting her with now; Tina Turnbow waited until Erica was done speaking, then smiled and pulled her into a forgiving hug. They crossed the threshold together, and the door shut behind them.

"She's in," Steve said into the radio.

"How long 'til Robin's drugs kick in?" said Lucy with a short sigh.

"No idea." Steve tapped his hands onto the steering wheel. "You bored, or something?"

"Well, this isn't exactly riveting."

He shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "Well, get used to it."

There followed a brief pause, in which Lucy, who could no longer watch out the window as Erica had disappeared inside the Turnbow house, glanced around Steve's car for something to entertain herself with. Her eyes fell onto the radio, and Lucy, bored, sat up, lips pulled down at the corners.

"You know," she began conversationally, as though the words were not clawing their way past her lips out of pure, unadulterated curiosity, "I heard the funniest thing today."

"Did you?" Steve said dryly.

"Mhm, I did," she said, not letting his tone dull hers. "I heard that the Squawk played ABBA today. The Way Old Friends Do."

The only reason she recognized that Steve was caught off-guard was because of how well she knew him. She was able to catch the slight tense-up of his shoulders, the freeze of his hands as they stopped their mindless tapping, the darting of his eyes sideways at Lucy as though he had been caught.

"Why's that funny?" he said casually, lifting his shoulder. "It's a good song."

"It's a great song," she agreed. "But I think—and correct me if I'm wrong—I think this is the... first ABBA song that the Squawk has ever played. Isn't it?"

Steve didn't answer right away. When he spoke, the words came out thick and slowly, like he could not believe he was admitting it.

"Yep. Robin found an old Super Trouper vinyl in the storage and decided to play it. Isn't that your favorite, or something?"

Lucy pretended as though this did not hurt her, although it in fact made her heart clench and breath catch in her throat to realize Steve was already forgetting the most basic things about her.

"Something like that, yeah." She paused, then lifted her shoulders, destined to nail him in the chest the way he had done to her."I didn't even hear it, by the way. Miss Harris did. She called in to complain."

Steve glanced at her. "Oh."

"So if this was about getting a rise out of me, or something, it didn't work," she added, and the words came out much too bitingly.

"Wasn't the goal," he said.

Lucy nodded, staring straight ahead. She let the topic die, unsatisfied with how her accusation had fallen so flat. She was unsure, anyway, what she had been expecting; for Steve to admit that he had played the song on purpose, chosen it out by the lyrics, dedicated it to her in the hopes that she would hear it and come running back? Did she think he would turn to her now and finally reveal that he didn't hate her, not at all, but that he still loved her and wanted her back?

Her chest tightened as though a fist was clenching her heart. Maybe she expected Steve to do something like confess his love for her just because she really, really wanted him to.

The time passed slowly after that, and it felt like hours before the front porch lights began to flicker in front of the Turnbow house; Erica signaling to the others that the Turnbows were incapacitated and the plan was ready to be executed. Steve and Lucy jumped into action, and Lucy was certain that he was as ready to get out of that car as she was.

The Squawk van came barreling down the street as the garage door wheeled open; Joyce backed the van into the Turnbow garage, and they got to work.

Mr. Turnbow, Mrs. Turnbow, Tina, and Derek—pillowcases over their heads, of course–were lugged into the trunk of the van. Inside, Robin and Lucas worked on witness-proofing the house: They drew the curtains shut, locked the doors, unhooked phone lines. Lucy helped Dustin bring in sacks of tools and supplies that they had gotten from Murray. As Lucy grabbed the last of them out of the trunk, Steve shut the doors and tapped on it; Joyce took off toward the farm.

It was precarious and hard work, prepping the Turnbow house for the Demo attack, but everyone had their own jobs; Lucy's was with Lucas in the wine cellar, the two of them filling the grenade-themed water balloons with acetone to launch at the Demo. Upstairs she heard hammering, drills whirring, nails stabbing through slabs of plywood; then she and Lucas paused as there was a mechanical whirring much louder than anything else. A chainsaw pierced the ceiling. They had just enough time to duck behind the bar counter before a chunk of the roof fell through and sent dust and wine flying.

The others peeked over the serrated edge. Lucy was not surprised to see Steve holding the chainsaw. She gave him an unimpressed look; he grinned and revved the chainsaw again.

"This better work," Lucy said, chewing on her thumbnail; she and Steve now sat in his car again, watching the Turnbow house closely, prepared for the Demo to take off so they could chase it. "Otherwise we just ruined that poor family's house for nothing."

"Did you see how much wine they had down there?" Steve scoffed. "I think they'll be fine."

The radio crackled to life. "Talk to me, guys. How's it looking out there?"

"It's boring," Steve replied. "How are the Turnbows holding up?"

Robin paused before replying. "Eh, they're still in their food comas, but I swear to God, this Demo better show. If we took out an entire family for nothing, my conscience will never recover."

"Nah, it'll show," said Steve. He glanced at Lucy momentarily. "Luce said Dipshit Derek was next, and she never lies."

"I make a point not to," she added.

Steve exhaled a chuckle. "Right. So either this Demo shows up, or Hell froze over."

He slid the radio antenna down and dropped it into his lap, glancing back toward the Turnbow house; Lucy did the same, anxious now. They had no way to tell when the Demo would appear, nor if their traps would work. Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Jonathan, and Nancy were all still in there. If things did not go according to plan, it would be over for all of them.

Though she expected to spend the waiting minutes in silence, as they had done before, Lucy was surprised to hear Steve draw in a short breath and speak rather softly.

"I have a question," he said.

Lucy looked over and was unsurprised to see him staring down at his lap. "What is this," she said, "question night?"

"Well, you got to ask one earlier," he pointed out, somewhat childishly; but in a way Lucy found amusing.

Against her better judgment she smiled, and nodded slightly. "I guess it's only fair, then."

"Did it help?"

Lucy's smile faltered and she felt her heart jump into her throat.

"Did.. what help?" she asked, though she was afraid she already knew. She kept her eyes forward, fixed on the house across the street and the porch light that had not changed since the last time she looked at it.

Steve's fingers twisted together in his lap. "You know. Leaving. Breaking up with me. All of it. Did it help... you?"

It was a question she should have expected; Steve was so goddamn caring that sometimes it made her heart ache. Of course he was hoping that their breakup had been beneficial to her, that it had actually helped her grieve Leo the way she expected it to.

She should have known he wanted to hear that she was better, and she wished she could have given him the answer he wanted, but instead she had to tell him that their breakup was practically for nothing. It amounted to nothing.

She swallowed. The answer pressed against her ribs, strangled her around the throat, and racked her brain with all the ways she would be letting him down. Again.

"I don't know," she said, and her voice came out as quiet as a breath. "I thought it would."

He nodded once, like that was enough, and his mouth twitched as though it wanted to pull into a bitter smile.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Hoped so."

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and briefly Lucy's guilt for leaving Steve was so suffocating that she couldn't think straight. She drew in a sharp, ragged breath, looking down at her own hands for comfort.

"It didn't make things... worse," she added in a small voice. "It just didn't fix them either."

Again, Steve did not say anything, and Lucy was so upset by this that she felt her eyes sting; she glanced over to him and chewed on her bottom lip, chest aching with needing to know.

"Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Steve's head lifted at that, finally, and he looked at her. Not fully, not like the way he used to, but enough that she felt it anyway.

"Of course not," he said evenly. He shrugged the question off. "I just wanted to know."

Lucy nodded, even though her throat felt too tight to speak. She turned her gaze back to the house, though nothing in there had changed, of course; she just knew looking at Steve right now was the wrong thing to do.

They sat like that for another beat before Steve spoke again, quieter this time, like he was afraid the words might leave him if he didn't get them out quick enough.

"Can I ask something else?" he said.

Lucy let out a shaky breath. "Might as well."

He huffed a weak, humorless laugh, then rubbed his thumb along the seam of his jeans. "Was there... anything I should've done differently?"

She might have actually heard the sound of her heart shattering into a million pieces, if it had not already done so when she broke up with him the first time.

"I mean—" he rushed on, glancing at her now, eyes bright and unsettled, "should I have said something else? Stayed? Told you I wasn't going anywhere, no matter how bad it got?"

Lucy opened her mouth, but he kept going, no indication he realized she was trying to answer him. She got the feeling he had been sitting on this question a while now and only just worked up the courage to spit it out.

"Because I think about it all the time," he admitted. "Every day. I think about how I just... let you walk away. How I didn't fight you on it, didn't tell you I'd sit there with you even if you never got better."

His jaw tightened, and Lucy watched him closely, watched as the words struggled to spill out of his mouth. He shook his head, looking as though he tasted something bitter now. "And I hate myself for it. Feels like I was a coward."

The word hung between them, so heavy and so untrue and just so devastating that Lucy could do nothing but exhale a shaky breath.

"Steve—"

"I know you said you needed space," he said, "and I know you were hurting, but sometimes I wonder if you needed someone to tell you they weren't leaving. And I didn't... do that. I just walked away instead, like I always do."

Silence rushed in after that, loud and terrible. Lucy stared at him, chest aching in a way that felt entirely too familiar and definitely too unbearable.

"You didn't walk away," she told him, voice unsteady. "I... pushed you, Steve."

"That doesn't make it better," he said.

"It does," she assured him, nodding firmly. "If you'd stayed when I asked you not to, I would've... resented you for it. And then I would've broken anyway."

Steve frowned down at his lap as though he did not believe her.

"You loved me so—much," she said, and she choked on the words. "So of course you respected what I asked for, even when it... it sucked. That's not being a coward, Steve."

His eyes dropped again and he let out a bitter scoff. "Sure felt like it."

"Not to me," she said quietly.

Her hand moved as though of its own accord, and it hesitated, then landed softly on his arm; he looked up now, startled at the touch, and met her eyes. She offered him an easy smile, one that she had not given anyone in a long time, which she usually reserved for him—for his stupid, love-struck eyes and sparkling grin. He recognized it and melted at the sight.

Before either of them could say anything further, many things happened all at once: The radio crackled to life, and loudly. Robin began rambling off about Steve's lawyer uncle who defended rich assholes, and whether or not he would defend them for their criminal actions; Lucy sat up pin-straight as Steve picked up the radio to reply.

"You see that?" she muttered to him, narrowing her eyes out the windshield.

"Steve?" said Robin brightly. "Steveeee, are you there? Lucy!"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," said Steve, his eyes, too, stuck on the same sight as Lucy. "Just... stop talking. I think we've got company."

They watched as the street lamps lining Arlington street began to flicker, then shut off altogether as something perhaps in another dimension traveled beneath them. The Demo had arrived.

"Moving south down Arlington," Lucy announced, having snatched the radio from Steve. "You've got maybe... thirty seconds. Twenty. Taggers?"

Nancy's voice replied. "In position and set."

"Launchers?"

"Set," Lucas answered for himself and Dustin.

"Catcher?"

"Set," said Mike. "Trackers?"

Lucy shared a glance with Steve, and tossed him the radio; he said, "Set. Let's do this thing."

They buckled their seatbelts and watched with uncertainty as the flickering of the streetlights grew closer down the street until they were right on top of the Turnbow house; the porch lights blinked and flashed, and through the frosted glass of the front door Lucy saw the entry hall lights begin to blink.

"It's inside," she told Steve.

"It's inside," he said into the radio. "Keep your traps shut."

They watched closely as the leftmost window on the top floor of the house began to flicker violently; she knew it was Derek's room by the volume of energy being released from the Demogorgan. Sure enough, she and Steve caught their breath as the ceiling split open and the Demo prowled through the gate.

From there, it was up to the others to get it under control. Lucy knew they would be able to hold their own well enough and that they had discussed the plan so that absolutely nothing could have gone wrong, but watching the lights of the house flicker and hearing such faint roars from the Demo was equally as unsatisfying as being in there herself. Time seemed to slow down and Lucy was unsure if she took a single breath before Mike's voice came over the radio.

"It flipped!" he yelled at them. "IT FLIPPED!"

"Yay!" said Lucy out of pure shock. She messed around with Dustin's system in the way he had instructed her to, fiddling with the device in the back of Steve's car; she turned the tiny dial on the top and watched as the blinking red number began to grow. "Got the signal. Steve, it's coming right toward us—"

"How close is it?" he said urgently, foot primed on the gas pedal. "Lucy, how close!?"

"Shit," she muttered; the face of the tracking device and the entire car itself began to hesitate and flicker; the Demo was right on top of them.

Without warning, Nancy's hands slammed onto Lucy's window; she let out a bloodcurdling scream and nearly broke the system before realizing who was at her side. Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy slid into the backseat of Steve's car, smooshing their star physicist and tracker in the middle seat.

"Where is it?" said Jonathan.

"Well, give me a sec," she muttered, fiddling with the device again. She cursed. "Dustin, I don't know how any of this shit works—"

"Let me see," he demanded, sitting up as far forward as he could from the middle seat. Lucy propped it up on the center console so he had a view of it. He stared at the screen, his face still as he took in lots of information at once. Then he glanced up at the wheel above Lucy's head which he could not reach. "We're losing signal. Lucy, you gotta find it."

She nodded at once and turned back toward herself. She reached up to the dial overhead and began to turn the satellite, gauging the signal, until the red number began to increase. She laughed.

"Okay, it's there!" she said excitedly. "Okay, yeah, it's going—um, toward—go that way, fast!"

"Northwest!" Dustin supplied. "Steve, DRIVE!"

He yelled in response and turned the key in the ignition. The engine flipped over itself, struggling to life.

"Demo is tagged," Lucy said over the radio. "We're following it now. Right, Steve!?"

He cursed loudly and forced the engine to switch on, then slammed on the gas hard enough that Lucy's head hit the headrest. They took off after Lucy's direction and carried on.

"Shit, this isn't stable here," said Dustin after watching Lucy fumble with the tracker so it did not fall off the console at Steve's speed. "Lucy, just keep it in front of you, I'll check over your shoulder."

"Okay," she said breathlessly, and she slid it back into her lap, nodding. "Okay."

"How's the signal holding?" Jonathan asked, leaning up toward the front seats.

"Um, it's... holding," said Lucy uncertainly. "I think."

"You think?"

"This is hard!" she argued. "My last job was writing down directions on a piece of paper, Jonathan!"

"Take a right!" Dustin yelled suddenly, and his voice barreled right into Lucy's eardrum. "Right, Steve!"

"Right!?"

"NOW!"

Steve yelled a curse and threw the steering wheel; the car lurched to the side and tore through someone's lawn. The five of them screamed as the car headed straight for wooden fences, but it ripped right through them; Steve carried on and Lucy and Dustin watched the signal. It was still strong, so they still had a hold on the Demo, but they were now driving through lawn after lawn, and Lucy had a feeling that the Hawkins neighborhood committee would have harsh words about this.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Steve exclaimed as he burst through fence after fence and left tire marks in people's backyards. "Shit! Sorry!"

"Woah, WOAH!" Jonathan cried. "You're gonna crash!"

"He said go RIGHT!"

"Jesus Christ!" said Nancy, her face white.

"STOP!" screamed Lucy as she stared wide-eyed down at the tracking number; the signal was decreasing now, and fast. "STEVE, STOP!"

He slammed both feet on the brakes and the four of them jerked forward, swearing.

"What are we doing, Lucy?" he demanded, craning for a glimpse at the signal. "What's it at?"

"Signal's falling," Dustin told the others, his eyes glued to it. "Lucy, press that button then turn the dial."

"Okay!" She fumbled around and clicked button after button on the device, then reached up and turned the wheel to adjust the satellite dish. "Shit, um, shit—"

"Come on!"

"Okay, I got it!" Panicked, she pointed directly behind them, toward the way which they had come from initially. "That way, that way, that way—"

"Jesus!" Jonathan cried, as Steve spun the steering wheel and the car did an entire 180. He threw it into gear and took off in the direction Lucy pointed, taking the path he had already cleared out of the backyard and fences.

"I'm gonna be sick," muttered Nancy.

"Okay, it's steady," Lucy told the others, clutching the device so it did not slide out of her lap on account of Steve's driving. "Keep going!"

"I don't understand," Nancy said, staring out the window at the dark scenery rushing by. She shook her head and conferred with the others, face set with confusion. "I don't understand. Why is it going back the way we came?"

"Could it be trying to shake us?" Jonathan offered in a panic. "It knows we're tracking it?"

"No, no way," said Steve, glancing in the rear view mirror. "There's no way. Something must have caught its attention."

"Like what?" said Lucy, glancing back at them worriedly.

"Derek," sighed Nancy, and she ran a hand down her face. "Shit. Derek must have waken up, and the Demo was able to see where they took him, so now—"

"Now it's after him," said Jonathan. "Shit!"

"That has to be it," said Lucy, her eyes out the windshield as Steve whipped by street signs after street signs. "We're heading toward McCorkle farm."

She and Steve exchanged a grim look; in the backseat Jonathan, Dustin, and Nancy did the same. Without another word, Steve pressed the gas pedal to the floor and maxed out the speedometer of his car, flying down the street. Lucy watched the signal, but it was unchanging now. The Demo was right there with them.

"There!" Nancy pointed through the dashboard at what they were coming up on: The abandoned McCorkle farm, where the street lights were flickering with rage and the barn doors had been tore open by a vengeful, otherworldly creature.

"SHIT!" Jonathan said again, and he leaned up toward the front of the car as he caught sight of the Demogorgan's focus at the moment: Joyce, wielding an axe, swung at the Demo repeatedly, driving it back and away from the others in the barn.

"Steve," said Nancy, leaning toward the front with Jonathan so that both their heads were between Lucy and Steve, "gun it."

"Pedal to the metal," he said simply, then grunted and changed gears on the car so it increased in speed as it came up on the Demo. Lucy braced for impact, clutching the armrest of her seat with both hands, and the four of them yelled as the car collided with the Demo.

It shrieked in pain, thudded as it rolled over the roof of the car, and then collapsed in a roaring heap on the ground behind them.

"WE GOT THE SON OF A BITCH!" cackled Dustin, facing out the back windshield with a grin.

The five of them laughed and Jonathan clapped Steve's shoulder in glee. Panting, Steve turned the car around once again to face off with the Demo. It had stood by now, fleshy, teethy, gnarly monster staring them down from a few yards away, seething with rage—then it took off in the opposite direction and ripped a gate into the grain silo, flipping back to the Upside Down.

Lucy glanced down at the device on her lap, watching the number grow. "It's heading back towards us—wait, shit, it's behind us—"

"Come on," said Jonathan, urging Steve, as he had not made a move yet. "Come on! What are you doing, man? We gotta turn around?"

"W–wait," said Steve, holding up a hand, his eyes unfocused in deep thought. "Gates are kinda like Peanut Butter Boppers, right?"

"What?" the others said.

"The outside is, like, crunchy and tough, but then you bite down on it, and it gives way to a gooey, creamy core."

"Dude," demanded Jonathan, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"I drive fast enough, I think the Beemer can punch a hole straight into the gate, and then we can track the Demo on its home turf in the Upside Down! Follow it straight back to home!"

"We're losing signal," Lucy said uncertainly after conferring with the device. "It's sinking! Steve, make a decision!"

"We won't be able to follow anything if we crash," said Dustin.

"We won't crash if it's like a Bopper!"

"Lucy, the signal's almost gone," said Nancy, watching the numbers sink over Lucy's shoulder.

"I know!" she said, panicking. She turned to Steve. "Drive, Steve, GO!"

On her mark, he threw the car into gear and took off toward the gate. Jonathan and Nancy swore in fear and clutched the safety handles overhead, Dustin squealed and held onto the headrest behind him, and even Lucy had to grip her armrest,  uncertain if this would even work.

"I got it!" Steve cried. "I got it, I got it!"

"It's not gonna work!" yelled Jonathan.

"IT'S NOT GONNA WORK!" screamed Dustin as the car barreled toward the gate. "IT'S NOT LIKE A BOPPER! STEVEEE!"

"Hang ON!" Steve screwed up his face and screamed as the car slid through the closing gate, the pulsing substance shrinking around them and protesting their arrival. The five of them screamed as the car flew through the gate on unsteady terrain, uncertain of what awaited them on the other side or whether they would even make it that far.

Finally, the gate spat them out into a familiar terrain, one which Lucy had visited before. She let out a laugh of pure shock and disbelief—the others did the same, looking around at each other, unable to resist the glee.

"We did it!" Jonathan clapped Steve once more, and Steve whooped. Lucy turned over her seat to make contact with Nancy, both of them exhaling relieved laughs and holding one another's hand. "Jesus!"

"Signal?" Dustin prompted Lucy, leaning forward to see for himself.

She looked back at the device in her lap, then grinned at the others. "Strong! It's good! We got it!"

They tore through the Upside Down, exhilarated and not entirely sure that they were still alive, but still in pursuit of the Demo. Lucy exhaled another laugh, letting her knuckles unclench from around the armrest for the first time in God knew how long.

Via Chatter

You on somethin crazy if you remember a different version of this chapter 😂😂😂✌️✌️✌️✌️

Jk I had to take it down and rework it because originally I had Lucy going to the Upside Down in place of Dustin and you gotta be INSANE if you think I can write around not having our goat in the Upside Down ......

SPOILERS! Slightly. But still spoilers. Read at discretion.Happy volume 2 grieving day everybody. Here's my reaction to the Dustin and Steve fight from episode one