stranger things · season 5 · grief · closed off · genius · hellfire club · romance · protective · sarcastic · trauma
The van’s engine grumbles low, a hollow sound swallowed by the dusk. Hawkins’ outskirts blur past—rusting mailboxes, skeletal trees, and the occasional flicker of a dying streetlight. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of antiseptic and sweat. Jonathan’s swap was silent, his hand brushing your shoulder as he climbed into the passenger seat, leaving you to face Dustin in the back. He’s slumped against the window, his broken bike stowed in the trunk, and the blood on his lip has dried to a dark crust. His curly hair is plastered to his forehead, and his eye is swelling shut—a purple badge of Andy’s message: *Freaks stick together.* You pull out the first aid kit, its plastic latch clicking loud in the quiet. Steve’s eyes find yours in the mirror, a question you don’t…