"HOW DOES THIS LOOK TO YOU?" JONATHAN BYERS ASKS THE WHEELER BESIDE HIM.

Carla picks up the paper Jonathan was working on. Written on the top in all caps was the sentence, 'Have you seen me?', below it holding information on Will and what to do if he was spotted.

"Looks great." The girl gives a nod and hands it back to the Byers boy, who sets it down in the 'finished' pile they'd created.

The two teens had been spending the rest of the day doing this—making missing posters for the young Byers boy. They did so quietly, only commenting when necessary, like asking if something looked okay, or if they should use this photo instead of that photo.

Besides, there was enough noise already from Joyce, who had been screaming at the phone for the past few hours, smashing it back into its holder whenever she was met with a negative answer.

Jonathan had informed her that she was trying to contact Will's father, Lonnie, but instead was hearing from his new incoherent girlfriend, who didn't answer and instead rudely hung up. Joyce had yelled 'Bitch' the minute the woman hung up, which was rather surprising to the Wheeler girl. The Byers woman was never someone to curse people out, or violently approach things, but, then again, her son had just gone missing and that woman had done nothing helpful at all. Carla would react the same.

As Jonathan continued to make posters, Joyce continuing to call people, Carla took it upon herself to clean up the Byers' house—it's the least she could do. As they worked hard for the sake of their brother and son, the girl had taken out the trash, washed the dishes in the sink, swept some of the more dirty areas of the house, as well as went through her friend's room, which was still a giant mess.

She'd placed all the items that could be saved back into their rightful spots, thrown whatever wasn't savable away, stacked books and tapes back in order and leaned his camera back on to his shelf. Through her cleaning spree, Carla had also picked up a photo of her, Jonathan and Will on the floor, frame slightly cracked.

The image was from almost a year ago—Christmas of '82—and featured the three kids sitting around the Byers' Christmas tree. Carla had just shown up after her own home celebration, and had walked in to see the boys waiting for her to open their few gifts. She had an arm thrown around the younger boy, and Jonathan had his around her, all three sporting huge smiles.

A small smile appeared on Carla's face as she thought back to the memory, reliving the moment through the image. She could still remember Will's excited yells at the new box of crayons his mom had gotten him, could still feel the bone crushing hug that Jonathan had given her when he unwrapped the new camera she'd bought for him.

These were memories she would never forget.

"Mom's off the phone. Do you wanna add more to these posters?"Jonathan's voice took her from her small trip down memory lane, the boy popping right beside her. His eyes glimpsed at the photo in her grip, letting out a small laugh. "I forgot about that."

Carla smiled again, "We all look so happy."

Jonathan paused a moment before saying, "You should take it. Put it in your room instead."

"Really?"

"Sure." the Byers boy nodded, "It won't risk getting broken in there."

She gave a small nod and followed her friend from his room, photo in hand. They took a seat back on the couch and began to look at posters again, giving comments on what should be changed, or if they liked something the other did. Though, it was certainly hard to concentrate when, down the hall, Mrs. Byers continued to slam the phone back into its holder and curse, clearly pissed off.

Joyce wasn't going to sit and wait for her boy to come back. She wanted Will back now—for people to take her seriously and start looking for him.

A few more hours of poster-making and , a Chevy pulled into the Byers' driveway, Jonathan alerting his mother with a small, "Mom?"

"What?"

"Cops."

The minute her son revealed who was outside, Joyce was on her feet and out the door, urgency running through her. She'd had a conversation with the chief, Jim Hopper, that morning, who, despite being weary of the situation, promised to do some research on the case. Him being here could only mean one of two things.

They either found something or they didn't.

Jonathan and Carla gave each other a look before following, stopping besides Joyce. At the same time, the chief exited his vehicle, pulling out an item from the back out with a solemn look. An item that all three were quick to recognize.

Will's bike.

Hopper made sure to bring them all in the house before beginning to explain how they found it lying on the road near woods. He didn't get much farther, though, because Joyce was keen on beginning her own questioning session.

"It was just lying there?" she asked, hands flying up in confusion.

"Yeah." Hopper let out a sigh, pointing at the other officers on the scene to start examining the house.

"Did it have any blood on it, or—"

"No, no, no, no, no...." Hopper continued walking, almost as if he was ignoring the women's questions.

Jonathan spoke up next, "If you found the bike out there, why are you here?"

"Well, he had a key to the house, right?" Hopper asks, beginning to search around the house.

"Yeah."

"So, maybe he came home." the chief looked out the window, calmly.

Carla sent a small look towards the older man, "I'm sorry, Chief, but are you seriously claiming that we didn't check the house for him, or any clues for that matter? We've been here all day."

Hopper denied her words, "I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying?" Carla asked. Normally, she wouldn't be speaking back to someone like the Chief of Hawkins Police, but she couldn't help herself. If Will had come home, they would have noticed something.

The man ignored her question, gaze suddenly landing on a small dent in the wall, his fingers moving over it. "Has this always been here?"

"What? I don't know, probably." Joyce shrugs, voice still frantic as ever, "I mean, I have two boys. Look at this place."

"You're not sure?" Hopper opens the back door, pushing it towards the wall. Carla was quick to notice how the doorknob perfectly matched with the dent, signaling that it was possible for the Byers boy to have possibly rushed in and out.

Joyce let out a scoff before the family dog, Chester, started barking, both adults heading outside at the noise.

"What do you think he's looking for?" Carla watched as Joyce dragged the dog back inside of the house, Hopper moving closer to the back shed.

Jonathan shrugged, "My guess is as good as yours."

Everyone in town knew that Hopper was a simple, yet complicated man. He didn't have any friends, and lived alone in a trailer, spending his time smoking and drinking until he passed out. No one to talk too, or to be bothered by.

The reason for this lifestyle? The death of his daughter, Sara.

The loss of his daughter took a huge toll on the man, causing the divorce between him and his now ex-wife, Diane, as well as his return to Hawkins, Indiana, a place where he wouldn't be reminded every second of his little girl—as well as a town where he could do whatever he wanted without being shamed upon.

Now, everyone knew him as the semi-careless police chief, and he was totally fine with that.

When his old high school friend, Joyce Byers, showed up into the office with her missing child report, Hopper hadn't been too worried—what kid went missing anymore?—but after finding the boy's bike, the man had put on a more serious face about the whole situation.

He knew what it was like to wake up without a child, and he would do whatever he could to stop Joyce from ever experiencing that. Because the pain cut deeper than a knife, and never went away.

Later that night, a search party was held for Will.

After resurfacing from the shed, Hopper had his deputies—Callahan and Powell—call the office and organize a search party for the missing Byers boy. All parties involved were rather confused as to why he was suddenly keen on finding Will, but none questioned and took the info, setting up the party.

Instead of joining the search, Carla, Jonathan and Joyce stayed at the Byers home in case Will were to return. His mother was hoping that maybe if he was lost and heard how worried everyone was for him, he'd come back.

But it had been hours now, and Will still hadn't returned. People were leaving the woods due to the now pouring rain, and the chances of finding the boy were growing smaller and smaller.

Carla was situated by the window, crossing her fingers that the little boy she saw as a brother would just come home. He'd been missing for a whole day now.

Joyce, with her son in the lounge room, was getting her first look at the photos both teens had picked out for the posters, trying to decide what to use and what not to use, "Jonathan, wow. You took these? These are great." Her voice was quiet, sniffles following each word as she shuffled through photos, "They really are."

The boy didn't reply, and Joyce spoke up again, changing the topic entirely. "I know I haven't been there for you. I've been working so hard, and I...I just feel bad. I don't even....barely know what's going on with you."

She finished her apology, "All right? I am sorry about that."

Jonathan let out a small sob, trying to keep back his tears. His mother put a reassuring hand on his arm, rubbing up and down in a motherly manner. "Hey, what is it? What is it honey?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me. Tell me." Joyce pleads with her son. "Come on. You can—"

"No." Jonathan mumbles, his voice cracking. He rarely showed so much emotion, and it hurt Carla's heart from the other room to see him so broken. "It's just... I should've been there for him."

"No. Oh, no. You can't do that to yourself." Joyce shakes her head at the boy's words. "This was not your fault. Do you hear me?" Her gaze then met the Wheeler girl's figure, who was slowly approaching the family with a frown. "And it isn't yours either, Carla. It isn't."

She continued, stammering through every word. "He is close. I-I know it. I feel it in my heart." Joyce pulled her eldest son closer, "You just have to—You have to trust me on this, okay?"

"Yeah." Jonathan mutters.

The Wheeler girl, who'd approached the two and taken a seat next to her best friend, picked up one of the pictures of the missing boy, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, look at this one."

Joyce's shaky fingers were quick to take the image with a small, breathy, laugh, her hands trailing over the boys face. "Oh, look at him."

Carla picked up one of the signs they'd made, stealing the small image back and setting it down where they'd left an empty spot on the papers. "This has to be it, right?"

Jonathan gave a small nod, and Joyce agreed, saying, "That's it. That's the one."

Before any other comment can be made, the phone rings, the mother rushing away from the two teens to go and get it, desperate for whoever answered to have some useful information. "Hello?"

Jonathan mutters, "Who do you think it is?"

"Maybe your dad?" Carla shrugs, unsure on who was finally calling Joyce back.

"Hello?" Mrs Byers called into the phone again. "Lonnie?"

"Dad?" Jonathan asked, perking his head up at his mom.

"Hopper? Who is this?" the woman asks into the phone, staying silent for only a few more moments before beginning to frantically exclaim, "Will? Will?"

Carla let out a breath,"It's Will?"

As the woman started to gasp, the Byers boy approached her with caution, asking, "Mom, it's Will?"

"Who is this?!" Joyce yelled into the phone, voice full of fear. Who was on the other end? "What have you done to my boy?"

"What?"

"Give me back my son!" Joyce screeched into the phone before getting electrocuted, a spark hitting the woman in the face. The shock caused her to slap a hand over her mouth, phone falling from her grasp.

Carla was quick to her feet, picking the charred item up to see if anyone was still on the other line. "Hello? Who's there? Who the fuck is there?" With no answer, the brunette girl slammed the phone back into it's holder, as Joyce had done earlier when met with no answer.

Jonathan made an attempt at conversing with his mother, who was a mess of incoherent words and cries. "Mom, who was it? Who was it, Mom?" He grabbed on to her hands and shoulders, trying to get her to slow down for a minute and say a real word or sentence.

"It was him!"

Carla managed to pick up a few words, repeating them to Jonathan, "It was him."

With that info, Jonathan looked back at his mother, "Look at me, Mom. Was it Will?"

"Yes." Joyce croaked.

"What did he say?"

"He just breathed." Joyce sobbed, hand reaching out for the phone, "He just breathed."

"Was someone else there, Mrs. Byers?" Carla stands close to the woman, trying to show as much comfort as she could without alarming her even more.

"I—"Joyce panicked and clung to the phone—the last thing she had from her boy. The woman almost collapsed beneath herself, leaning into Jonathan who wrapped his arms around her, repeating the same questions over and over again.

"Mom, who was there? Who was it?"

Carla felt absolutely horrible, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Joyce Byers would be a frantic mess until her son showed back up.

"It was him." she sobbed, "I know it was his breathing. I know it was his breathing."

After another hour or so of trying to calm the mother down, Joyce was finally feeling better—though how better could she really feel? Her sobs had stopped and instead she sat quietly on the couch, sniffling.

She insisted that Carla went home to her own family, apologizing that she'd been here to see that, and while the Wheeler tried to stay and comfort, Joyce eventually pushed her and Jonathan from the door. She needed to be by herself.

The drive back to the Wheeler's was in deafening silence. They didn't want to speak about Will, or whether or not Joyce had actually heard her son or whether she was just losing her sanity, and needed to rest on the whole situation—she'd had been a hysterical mess after all.

While wanting to support the woman, Carla wasn't sure whether or not to believe the woman. It could easily have been some douche bag who thought it would be funny to fuck around with her, or an electrical problem or.....Will. It could have been Will.

A silent goodbye to her friend later, and Carla was entering her house. Her mother was the only one left awake, intensely watching the news. Noticing her daughters entrance, Karen was quick on asking about the Byers' situation. "Hi, honey. How are Joyce and Jonathan? I heard about Will."

"Joyce is a hysterical mess and Jonathan blames himself." the Wheeler sighed with a frown, "They're not doing good."

"Oh, that's terrible."

"I'm just gonna head to bed." Carla didn't feel like talking about Will anymore and walked slowly up the stairs, letting her hands skim over the railing.

Stopping when she made it to Nancy's room, she was quick to notice the open window—despite the pouring rain—as well as flash cards tossed all over the girls usually neat and proper bed spread. "Nancy, why is the window open? Its pouring."

Nancy made an unsure face, "Oh, I got a little....hot?"

"Sure you did." Carla gave her a look, "Steve was over, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." Nancy sighed in defeat, knowing her sister could see through her lie. Beginning to pick up the flashcards, the girl continued talking. "We were just studying though, nothing else—not like that matters, sorry." Her sister sent another look, and Nancy continued, "Anyway, uh, please don't bring this up to mom. Mike practically announced it at dinner, but they aren't supposed to know, and I don't want her to bring it up again. He wasn't even supposed to be here—"

Carla gave a quick reply, "I won't—"

"Carla, wait." Noticing her sister trying to leave, Nancy stood up from her bed and over to the girl. "I want to say something."

Carla let out a dry laugh, "Nance, if this is about Steve, how many times have I told you it's okay that you're dating—"

Nancy grabbed her twin's wrist, keeping her in place, as well as cutting her off. "I'm sorry if Steve and I dating makes you uncomfortable. I should have checked with you before we started dating, because I'd hate for you to be uncomfortable for the rest of our relationship." She gave an apologetic look, "I know you always say it's fine, but I see through you Carla."

Before Carla could deny anything, she continued. "I know what happened last year, but he's different. He's sweet, and funny, and everything to me, and he's sorry for how it went down for you two last year."

"So, if you're uncomfortable, please just say something, because I don't want you to feel like that around me, because I saw your face when you noticed Steve coming out of the bathroom after me, Carla. I saw how you left so quickly." Nancy finished, looking through her sister's eyes for an answer.

"Nancy, it's fine." Carla put a fake smile on her lips. "I got over Steve a while ago, and I'm happy you found someone who makes you happy." She squeezed her twins shoulder, "Don't let me get in the middle of your love life."

"You sure?" Nancy looked in her sisters eyes. Are you lying?

"Very." Carla nodded, smile slightly trembling. I think you know.

She then left her sister's room, falling backwards onto her own bed with a sigh. Why did she care so much about her sister and her feelings for Steve Harrington? She'd gotten over him ages ago, and he was free to date whoever he wanted.

But, her sister? That was a dick move on his part.....but he seemed to really like Nancy, and it would be wrong to intervene because of her own stupid feelings.

So, she'd just have to keep them locked up for a little while longer—until they went away for good.

mara's misc!

a lot of dialogue was fixed in this chapter, and it was way more boring to edit. how tf did i miss so many grammar mistakes and why was my writing so bland?

anyway's, carla ignoring her feelings for the sake of nancy is what makes her a good sister. i could never—especially if it involved steve harrington. the way she'd rather see her sister happy than herself makes me sad as if im not the one causing her to make her choices.

hope you enjoyed! see you back with chapter four <3