Early morning dew dotted the grass of the unkept front yard not far from Hawkins National Laboratory, weeds crawling up from the hard dirt as the cracked paint on the wooden panels of the tiny house looked shabby in the morning light. The Fields' house was humming with life on the inside though, the family rising from their slumber and starting their day like normal. Dottie Fields had yanked on her slightly out of fashion overalls while trying to keep last night's events from her mind. In her dreams she could still hear that awful sound from something in the woods that circled her house and the Byers house. Something unexplainable.

"Dorothy, breakfast is ready!"

Dottie was shoving a headband through her thick hair, blowing some air into her cheeks as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Micky was already banging on the door, demanding she was taking far too long in the bathroom. "Coming!" Her hands clenched around the basin for a few seconds longer, promising herself that she was just over tired and surely, whatever had been watching her last night was some rabid animal.

Easing open the shared bathroom door, her little brother barged by her while muttering a few curse words that their mother would frown upon, while their father would wash his mouth out with soap for saying out loud. Today, Dottie didn't even have the strength to argue with him or rat on him for swearing. She wandered down the short hallway numbly, dropping into her usual seat around the dining table. Her father was at the stove, flipping french toast while listening to the radio. "Kiddo, hey, are you okay?" Dottie's head snapped up with her father's question.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Kurt Fields watched his daughter for a moment longer, switching off the stovetop and moving towards the table where he piled food onto her plate, but strangely, she didn't make an attempt to eat. "Are you sure? You've not touched your breakfast yet. French toast is your favourite." Dottie eyed her plate of food, her stomach turning though.

"Are there wolves or coyotes in Indiana, dad?"

He paused with the question, washing his bite of food down with some stale coffee. It was an odd question, something he didn't expect from his sixteen year old daughter in the early morning of a Wednesday. Slowly, he was shrugging his wide shoulders. "I don't really know...I mean, maybe. Micky thought he saw a wolf down by the oak tree out back when he was five, but that was just his imagination most likely."

Dottie let her gaze wander to the windows that overlooked their front yard. In the distance sat the line of trees that grew outward into the woods, a place that had always frightened her. Sometimes she really did hate not living in modern Hawkins suburbia like Daisy. While her thoughts drifted back to last night, a dry voice echoed from the radio "...in more recent town news, Benny Hammond was found dead."

Across town, the very same piece of news was being read in the town newspaper by Beatrice Lonsdale, who had taken her maiden name back with the death of her husband years ago. The slightly crazy aunt was pointing down at the photograph of a man mostly liked in town. The article claimed he had committed suicide in his diner down on Randolph Lane. Daisy Lonsdale was chomping on some oatmeal when her aunt shoved the newspaper under her nose. "It's the bad men."

Daisy's eyes widened with the statement, almost coughing up her food. Once again, she hadn't slept very well last night, not with her recurring nightmares about something in the woods that had growled at her. Even just thinking about last night near the Byers house was making her skin prickle with fear. "Bad men?" Her eyes skimmed the article, noting the police hadn't given much details about Benny's death. "What are you talking about?"

"They had something to do with my poor Gregory's death," Aunt Beatrice rattled on some more, her words quick while she continued to drum her pointer finger on the table. There was a crazy glare in her eyes that Daisy had seen many times before. "They tried to kill Duncan too."

Usually, Daisy would roll her eyes, tap her dear aunt's shoulder and nod along with her nonsense. Aunt Beatrice had frequent episodes of sheer madness and it was something the young girl had grown up with and been taught to ignore by her mother. But today, with the mention of Duncan Downings, her heart clenched suddenly. "Duncan?" Her aunt nodded her head, leaning forward and pushing away Daisy's bowl of oatmeal. "Did you tell Marigold about the bad men and Duncan?"

"Marigold was clever," Aunt Beatrice exclaimed while Molly Lonsdale finally arrived from upstairs, her hair perfectly neat and her dress ironed to match. Always the picture of perfection. Beatrice inched closer again, her nose almost touching her niece's button nose, fearing any second their conversation would be halted. "The storm, it came, dear girl. My little boy predicted that storm, he's free from it though. But it's a caged freedom. Marigold knew that, she went looking for him. They're in a new storm."

The madness, that maybe wasn't quite madness, was brutally stopped. Molly Lonsdale, who had overheard the last snippet of conversation was slamming down her hands on the table. Daisy's glass of juice rattled with movement. "That is enough." Her words were fuelled with a blinding anger, Daisy shifting back in her chair. Molly glared across at her sister, who had fallen silent, shrinking back into her shell. "Daisy, why don't you head to school early today."

"But mum—" Daisy protested.

Her mother didn't budge. "It's not a question, Daisy."

Daisy was sulking away from the dining table, her breakfast quickly forgotten. With the horrible glare in her mother's eyes, she knew trying to go against her was not possible today. Clicking her tongue against her teeth, she grabbed her bag and marched towards the front door. While she reached for her house keys, she let her gaze swing over her shoulder for a second, only to see Molly Lonsdale crumbling up the newspaper with such hatred. It was very clear, something was strange about whatever was going on inside Aunt Beatrice's mind and why her mother always reacted the way she did when she spoke about Duncan. Daisy just didn't know why, but she'd figure that out soon enough.

***

Hawkins High was packed with students that were quickly forgetting about the weird things happening all over town, many already pushing little Will Byers from their minds. Dottie Fields was not one of them, her mind growing hyperactive with what had occurred outside Will's house last night. With her dark thoughts looming, fear and suspicion started to weigh her down and a new mystery was suddenly upon her when her presentation partner hadn't turned up to class.

"Barb didn't show for our history presentation today," Dottie had mentioned in passing with Daisy Lonsdale, who already had too many things running wild in her head today.

Daisy dumped a textbook into her locker, catching a glimpse of Jonathan Byers at his own locker. He was fiddling around with his camera and a stack of photographs. "Okay, maybe she ditched class? She did spend her night at Steve's thing, right? Maybe she was too tired to finish it and decided to skip."

Dottie was shaking her head. "Barb isn't like that. She wouldn't just skip out on our presentation." The bell echoed through the hallways, indicating the end of the school day. Kids were already hurling towards the exits, wanting nothing but freedom for a few lousy hours. "I asked Nancy in class, she doesn't know anything about it either. Isn't that strange?"

"Apparently, strange is going around lately." Daisy pointed out quietly, recalling their not mentioned yet incident last night and how her mother and aunt were acting weird. Throw in the disappearance of Will Byers and now, maybe Barbara Holland, Hawkins indeed was growing strange. Daisy's attention was snapped up again by Jonathan, who still waited by his locker. "Hey, I want to speak with Jonathan for a second, mind meeting me at the truck in a few?"

Dottie spied the strange and quiet boy too. "Sure. Are you going to mention last night to him? Because something was definitely in the woods. I've been trying to get it out of my head, but it's stuck in there pretty good."

Daisy gave her friend a tiny smile. "Yeah, I'll mention it."

The girls parted way, Dottie headed to the library to quickly hand in some overdue books, while Daisy flung her locker door shut and hurried towards Jonathan Byers. He was trying to put away his camera while balancing his newly developed photographs in his hands. With perfect timing, Daisy was able to help him gather the prints from falling to the floor. She glanced at a few in her hands, noticing many were taken in the woods. "Uh, thanks." Jonathan grumbled out, clearly a little shocked she had appeared out of nowhere.

"These are pretty awesome," Daisy said.

Jonathan reached for them, but the blonde was quicker, swiftly moving away before his hands could grab at his prints. Knowing he would follow, she slowly started for the double doors that led towards the student carpark. With a defeated sigh, Jonathan was slamming his locker door shut and following her. "Could I get those back?" he blurted out once the afternoon daylight hit their shoulders.

Daisy continued to flip through the photographs idly, "I'm really sorry about your brother." Her voice was quiet, her heart thudding in her chest. She had wanted to speak with Jonathan for a day or so now, wanting to tell him she knew the fear and doubt and blame that swirled around in his heart right now, for she had been there before. Hell, she was still there. But she hadn't been able to snag his attention until now. "It's really...well, it totally sucks. But I'm here if you need anything though."

"Thanks," His voice was clipped, staring at her hands while she continued to glance at his work and walk at the same time. His heart was loud in his ears, knowing at any second, she would find a few photographs that would start a very long and slightly uncomfortable conversation.

But the girl went on, "Actually, I went by your place with Dottie last night." Her head tilted up, looking away from the photographs and Jonathan paused, readying himself for whatever might come when Daisy Lonsdale finally came across the photographs of Nancy Wheeler. "We were dropping off a casserole. It sounds really weird, but we heard a sound, almost like an animal, but not exactly—"

Before Daisy could even finish her sentence, her voice dropped off as they came to stand near Jonathan's car and found four teenagers already waiting for him. Daisy was already frowning as Steve Harrington stepped up to both of them, his eyes staying a little too long on her. "Hey man," he leered over at Jonathan, who was very still suddenly.

"What's all this about?" Daisy spoke up first, eyeing Tommy H. and Carol who were pretty much groping each other. A new addition was with them today, Nicole Banks. Daisy didn't really know Nicole, but her signature red hair was rememberable. "Are you recruiting for the rich kids club or something? Before you ask, we're not even remotely interested."

Steve Harrington gave a little laugh with her comment, "Cute." His dark gaze quickly moved to Jonathan, moving closer towards them. "Actually, Nicole was telling us about your work."

"We've heard great things!" Carol chimed in, her beefy boyfriend humming in agreement.

Daisy was glancing back at Jonathan as the tension shifted in the air around them. "Yeah, and we would just love to take a little look. You know, as connoisseurs of art." Steve added in.

Quickly, Jonathan was moving by Daisy, her shoulder jerking forward as fear must have lurched though his heart as he accidentally pushed her. He started for his car but didn't have much luck. "I don't know what you're talking about." Tommy H. was grabbing him swiftly, the quite loner stumbling backwards.

Steve marched forward, "I'll take those." Before Daisy could even say a word, he was snatching the photographs from her hands and showing them to his group of friends. The teenagers huddled together, flipping through the stack.

Daisy was already irking up, "What the hell? Give them back!" She snatched a few photographs back and before her argument could continue, she finally saw the subject matter. The first black and white photograph displayed a group of teenagers hanging out by a pool, one she automatically recognised. She flipped back another print, watching the story play out from last night where Nancy, Barb, Steve and his friends had gotten drunk.

"These aren't creepy at all!" Carol howled out.

Jonathan started to protest. "I was looking for my brother."

Steve clicked his tongue. "No, this is called stalking."

Like clockwork, sweet Nancy Wheeler was joining the group of teenagers. Daisy glanced up from the photographs, staring across at Jonathan who looked like he wanted to run far away from this nightmare or vomit. "What's going on?" Nancy asked.

Carol sent her a little glance. "Jonathan here, was spying on us last night." Nancy's delicate face was already scrunching up with confusion. Daisy rocked back on her heels, feeling completely out of place. The picture nested between her fingertips displayed a shirtless Nancy Wheeler, caught in a moment that should not have been witnessed by anybody else but Steve and herself. "He was probably saving this one for later."

A photograph that must have been very similar to the one currently clutched in Daisy's hands was handed over to Nancy Wheeler, who stared down at it for too long, not saying a single word. Daisy's gaze swung back to Jonathan, who had guilt written all over his face. Steve moved forward. "See, you can tell he knows it was wrong, but man, that's the thing about perverts. It's hardwired into them. You know, they just can't help themselves."

"Steve—" Daisy started, watching the boy's heavy gaze. Despite not liking their history, she knew something was coming, something cruel and maybe a tiny bit unfair. She knew Steve Harrington was about to shine with his well crafted rich jerk attitude.

The older boy rounded back to glare at her, tearing one of Jonathan's photographs in half. "Don't try to defend him, Daisy. Your little loser friend here spied on us and took photographs of my girlfriend! Don't stand by his side, you're better than that."

Daisy felt her temper boiling away, hating how he thought he knew her. Steve Harrington had no right to even suggest he knew anything about her, not after he had somewhat helped in destroying her life. "So, how do we stop a pervert...we take away his little toy." Steve went on.

Steve was already grabbing the bag that hung from Jonathan's shoulder, the boy not even trying to stop him because he knew what he had done was indeed wrong. While Steve's friends laughed loudly, Daisy watched as he took out Jonathan's camera, holding it in the air. Something flicked on in Jonathan, finally understanding what was about to happen. "Please, no, not the camera!"

"Come on, Steve—" Nancy's quite voice sounded, but it didn't help.

Jonathan tried to move forward, Tommy H. already going to hold him back before he could try and grab his camera. Steve was suddenly telling his friend to stay back. The boys faced each other, Daisy's heart aching a little bit. Her art was important to her and couldn't begin to imagine somebody destroy her sketchbook. "Here you go, man." Steve shoved out the camera, the air around everyone turning with dread.

The quiet boy reached for the camera, but before his fingertips could touch it, Steve was letting go and the expensive object was falling towards the ground. The shattering cry cut through the quiet carpark. Nothing happened for a long moment, the teenagers just staring down at the busted camera. The silence broke as they began to chuckle, Tommy. H swinging his arm around his girlfriend and moving her away. Steve was backing away too. "Let's go. The game is about to start."

Daisy was tumbling after him while Jonathan hastily bent down to retrieve his broken camera. "You're a real asshole, you know that?" Daisy hissed towards Steve Harrington as Nancy waited behind a little longer, collecting a few torn pieces of a photograph that had caught her eye.

Steve turned around, staring at her fierce eyes. He could remember a time when Daisy Lonsdale didn't glare at him in disgust and pure hate. He could remember a time when he had almost reached over and brushed his lips against her own in her basement, but that time was long gone. It had vanished when Marigold had left Hawkins, it had vanished when he had lied to cover his own ass to the police. The last fragments of a relationship with Daisy Lonsdale had been sucked away with his lies. "An asshole who you used to enjoy spending time with, right?" he threw back at her, watching her face twist with something new.

Dottie Fields was now strolling over the dead grass towards the carpark, confusion clear as day in her eyes. She spotted Jonathan Byers still close to the ground, picking up his photographs while Nancy Wheeler hurried away from him, shoving something into her bag. When Dottie finally reached Daisy, Steve was gone. Nothing but old memories flared in Daisy's mind watching him walk away and placing an arm around Nancy Wheeler. Memories that she had pushed down so far they didn't even seem real.