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out-of-jams · 4 years

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Stranger Things || Chapter 01 || kth

Part of my Bangtan Netflix series!

Summary: When your younger brother, Jungkook, goes missing, you have no other choice but to reunite your old friend group to find him. But with government conspiracies, supernatural happenings, and a mysterious boy named V, things won’t be as easy as you’d hoped.

Word Count: 7.4k.

Warnings/Genre: Thriller. Mystery. Fluff. Angst. Friends to lovers. Smut. Supernatural. High School au. Explicit language.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Chapter 01: The Vanishing of Jeon Jungkook

“No, no, no! Go left!”

A shout accompanied by the sounds of gunshots filled the dark living room. And soft, blue light illuminated the space around the television showing two pixelated characters rushing across the screen.

“We went left last time and died. So no, we’re going right this time!” High pitched, eerie music flowed out of the speakers on the television box. And the click-click-click of fingers tilting joysticks and mashing buttons lingered in the tense, anxious atmosphere.

“We only died last time because you go us killed.” The voice was male: not quite deep, yet not high either, it fell somewhere in the middle.

“Don’t you dare blame that on me, Jungkook! You’re the one who didn’t listen when I told you to hide.” A feminine voice this time was followed by a grunt of irritation. “We’re going right.”

“Whatever.” With an annoyed click of his tongue, Jungkook leaned forward on the ugly, plaid printed couch and braced his elbows on his knees.

An Atari game controller was clutched tightly in his slender hands, fingers tilting the joystick and mashing the single button blindly. His brow was pinched in concentration and his lips were slightly parted, two prominant front teeth visable even in the near darkness. Though his mouth-breathing tendancy was most likely drying his mouth out more than helping him to actually focus.

On screen, both of your characters rushed through the room they’d just cleared of enemies and turned right at the end of the corridor. Jungkook’s character, a pixelated mass of orange, followed reluctantly behind yours as they both reached the door at the end of the hall.

“Maybe we should actually go in with a strategy this time--or not.” With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and leaned forward to unconsiously mimic your brother’s posture.

The stench of pizza grease from the empty boxes on the coffee table filtered through your nose as you grabbed up your half-drank bottle of coke. Carbonation was sweet on your tungue as light from the loading screen reflected in the pupils of your narrowed eyes. Your heart was beating so fast due to the game that you were almost positive Jungkook could hear it.

“We gotta beat it this time. I’m tired of replaying the same level over and over.” Jungkook licked at his lips, leaning forward more intensly the split second the game finished loading and dropped both of your characters into the boss battle. “Let’s get this bread.”

“The hell does that even mean?” Your question was rhetorical, attention captured by the battle music that suddenly burst from the television’s tiny speakers.

The screen zoomed in to show a blotch of green that looked more like a small plant than anything else. But as the music started to hit its cresendo, the plant slowly transformed into a humanoid like plant man with sharp teeth, claw-like fingers and no eyes. Right underneath its wiggling, twitching animated body was the word: Demogorgon.

“Here we go!” With a nod of determination, Jungkook’s fingers tightened on his joystick. “We’re gonna win this time.”

It took all of sixy seconds for both of your characters to die in a violent explosion of pixelated smoke and flames. The screen zoomed in to show the demogorgon wriggling victoriously and the game over music could barely be heard over the screams of both you and Jungkook.

“Dude!” You dropped your controller to the couch in annoyance and turned to glare over at your brother. “I told you to hide again and you still didn’t listen. And now we’re dead. Again.”

Jungkook just threw his head back and sunk lower in his seat. Even in the barely lit room you could see him tonguing his cheek in irritation. “Let’s take a break.”

You hummed, “Snack break?”

That seemed to perk him right up. Just the mention of food could light a fire under Jungkook’s ass quicker than your mother when she yelled. Until he glanced down at the table and deflated. “We’re out, though. I think we ate everything.”

You grimaced at the mess littered all over the coffee table. Empty containers of snacks and glass soda bottles covered every inch of the wooden surface. You and Jungkook had been gaming literally all day. Ever since he stumbled in earlier that morning with a brand new Atari clutched in his hands. Apparently he’d been lucky enough to borrow it from one of the boys down the street. And he’d busted into your room at 10 AM sharp to wake you up from your Sunday morning nap to goad you into playing.

Furtunately, your mother had left to visit her sister in Florida on Friday. Something about your aunt getting a divorce and your mother needing to comfort her. Or whatever. Not that it really bothered you to be left home alone with your younger brother for however long it took to console your grieving aunt. Because that just meant that you could do whatever the hell you wanted.

Like stay up late on a school night.

“Now what?” You questioned through a yawn, taking a second to glance at the clock on the VCR. 11:24 PM.

Jungkook was already standing with his arms stretched overhead to relieve his stiff muscles. “I’ll run out and get some more.”

“It’s late, Kook.” Your words seemed to have no effect on the sixteen year old boy because he’s already crossed the room to the front door.

Jungkook’s fingers fumbled with his shoes as he slipped them on, the hood of his black AC/DC hoodie flopping forward onto his head. Looking up as he tied his laces, he sent you a reasurring smile. His doe-eyed stare and large two front teeth gave him an aura of innocence that could make even the grumpy old man across the street soften like putty.

“Don’t worry, the store is just three streets down. I’ll take my bike and be there in like, fifteen minutes.” There it was again, that flash of bunny teeth as he stood up fully.

You groaned and threw your head back in defeat. “Fine. But hurry up.”

Jungkook grinned in victory, his dark eyes scrunching up into half-moons. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Better be.” Your words were punctuated by the slamming of the front door. Jungkook never learned how to shut doors with appropriate force.

Now the only sound in the house came from the game over still flashing on the television screen. You took a moment to eye it before flipping the remote into your hands and hitting the mute button. The living room plunged into silence as you streched out across the couch and threw an arm over your eyes. You’d just take a short nap while Jungkook was out in order to regain your strength to beat the game.

Yeah, just a short nap.

Jungkook should have been scared by the darkness creeping at the edge of the light beam from the flashlight attached to the front of his bike. He should have been frightened at the sheer fact that the streets of his neighborhood were completely empty. But he wasn’t.

The quiet offered him solace in a way that most things couldn’t. Sure, Jungkook was loud at times, but he also liked the comfort of his own company. Of the sound of crickets chirping in the trees lining the road he biked down. It mixed with the flap-flap-flap of the baseball card still stuck in-between the spokes of his rear bike wheel. And the crinkle of the plastic bag hanging from the left handle bar so low that it occasionally brushed against his thigh.

Jungkook’s breath came out in pants as his legs pedaled hard enough to carry him up the steep hill. He was almost home, only two streets away when the street lamps overhead started to dim. That wasn’t unusual. The powerlines in town were finicky, afterall.

Though it wasn’t until he passed underneath one that the bulb blinked one, twice, three times, before blowing out completely. And that wouldn’t have caused panic to rise in his chest if it weren’t for the fact that every single street lamp went out at the same time. And if it weren’t for the flashlight on the front of his bike, Jungkook would’ve been veiled inside a curtain of absolute darkness.

“What the..?” The words slipped from his mouth and filled the quiet street with a sense of foreboding. Jungkook didn’t know what was happening. But what he did know was that his instincts were screaming at him to get the hell out of dodge.

He pedaled faster, trying his best to ignore his heartbeat thrumming in his eardrums. And he would have succeeded if the flashlight on his bike didn’t start to flicker too. Jungkook glanced down, reaching out a hand to tap against the plastic lens in hopes of keeping it alive.

It blinked once more in a final threat before stilling and he let out a breath of relief.

And looked up just in time to see the silhouette of something-something-something standing in the middle of the empty road.

Jungkook startled so badly that he jerked the handlebars to the right sharply, sending him veering straight into a ditch on the side of the road. The front tire of his bike caught and the momentum flipped Junkook through the air in a dizzying whirlwhind. He hit the hard packed ground with a thud, grass tickling the now exposed skin of his arms. But he didn’t have time to register the pain.

Because he heard it, intermingled with the tick-tick-tick of the abandoned bike wheels spinning round and round.

A growling hiss pierced through the foilage of the trees around him, seemingly coming from anyhere and everywhere all at once. Jungkook stumbled to his feet, the knees of his jeans catching on a fallen branch and tearing. But he didn’t have time to process that either.

Through the darkness he could just make out a figure standing a few feet away, hunched over in the shadows.

Jungkook’s shoes slid across the dirt as he cut to the right and burst through the trees without a second thought. He could barely see more than five feet ahead, eyes blown wide to let in as much light as possible. As his footfalls pounded the earth, Jungkook’s beath left his body in loud exhales that he did his best to silence.

A quick glance behind him showed nothing. He couldn’t see whether or not whatever the hell that thing was, was following him. But just because he couldn’t see it didn’t mean that it wasn’t.

It took only a minute of reckless running for the familiar sourroundings to register in Jungkook’s mind. The town of Hawkins, Indiana was a rural area, filled with more trees than people. And the woods served as a maze for any who weren’t familiar with its paths. But Jungkook had lived there all his life, therefore he knew the darkened outline high up in the branches was there way before he reached the base of the tree.

He didn’t take a moment to pause, to catch his breath before he jumped, hands flying overhead to grab onto the wooden ladder. It didn’t reach all the way to the ground, having been broken off years ago. But luckily, Jungkook was tall.

His fingers wrapped around the splintered wood and he heaved himself upwards. The bottoms of his shoes slammed against the rungs of the makeshift ladder as he ascended further into the tree. Within seconds, the palm of his hand pushed against a catch in the wood above and he threw the trapdoor upwards. It gave way without a fight and Jungkook swung himself inside with adrenaline pumping vicioulsy through his veins.

The floor of the treehouse creaked underfoot as he quickly shut the door and locked it with the rusted metal latch. If Jungkook thought it was dark outside, it was even darker inside the cramped space. His hands shot out, palms forward, as he shuffled along blindly. Fingers shaking, Jungkook managed to grab onto the thin string dangling in the center of the room. And with a sharp tug, the lightbulb overhead came to life.

It was just as he remembered inside.

The air was stale from the lack of filtration, but Jungkook paid no mind as he stumbled over to one of the glass windows. Though his foot caught on the edge of a stool and almost sent him topling over. “Shit!”

Jungkook hit the wall palms first and he could feel the splinters enter his skin. But he brushed off the stinging pain and pressed his face against the glass window so close that it started to fog from his panicked breath. His eyes scanned the ground outside with a quickness only born from fear. At first he saw nothing, only his own face reflected back at him.

Until, there!

A silhouette amongst the shadows.

It stood there, unmoving, just staring at him like he was staring at it.

Until it wasn’t.

The sole lightbulb in the room flickered with familiarity as Jungkook pushed as far away from the window as possible. His stood in the center of the room turning rapidly, neck straining to glance out all four windows on each wall at once. It was then that he heard it again.

Whispered growls that caressed his eardrums with a silent promise.

Jungkook’s chest tightened. Why couldn’t he breathe?

Bump-bump. His heart pounded against his ribcage as the light overhead blinked once, twice.

Bump-bump. Three times. Bump-bump. A shadow brushed past the window pane to his right.

Bump-bump. Metal sliding against metal as the latch slowly unlocked.

Bump-bump. The light blew out. Bump-bump.

It was inside.

Jungkook turned slowly, scream caught somewhere halfway up his throat. Bump-bump.

The light flickered back on.

And Jungkook was gone.

Sunlight broke through the thin curtains hanging above the living room window, drifting across your face to shine right on your closed eyelids. A groan left your drool stained mouth, hand flying up in an attempt to beat back the light by sheer force of will.

With a sigh, your eyes squinted open and the memories of the night before rushed in. It was a surprise that you were still on the couch, seeing as how Jungkook should have woken you up by how unessicarily loud he usually was. Especially after having gone out of his way last night to be on snack retrieval duty. There was no way that he’d pass up on an opportunity to wake you up by beaming a pack of doritos right at your face.

You wiped at the dry drool on your chin and threw an uninterested glance at the clock on the VCR. 9:45 AM.

It took a moment for the importance of the time to register in your sleep clouded brain. But when it did--

“Shit! I’m late for school.” You flew off the couch, one bare foot landing on a depleted, crumpled box of Dunkaroos. Just looking at it twisted your stomach. How you and Jungkook managed to clear out your whole pantry of snacks in one day was sad.

Ignoring the mess on the coffee table, you scrambled out of the room and flew up the stairs. Your clothes fell in a heap on the floor the second the door to your room closed and you raced over to your closet. Blindly, you picked out an outfit for the day and threw it on while simultaniously attempting to brush the knots out of your hair.

Teeth brushed and Love’s Baby Soft perfume spritzed, you raced down the hall to Jungkook’s closed bedroom door. You didn’t bother to knock, instead just sending up a short prayer that he was decent before throwing the door open. It hit the wall with a crack that made you flinch. But you paid it no mind as you glared at the messy, unmade, empty bed.

That jerk went to school without you!

“I’m gonna kill him.” You growled and turned to run back down the stairs, socked feet sliding against the linoleum floor and almost carrying you past the foyer.

Skidding to a stop, you slipped on your shoes, grabbed your house keys and backpack, and flew out the front door.

The second the lock weaved through the front tire of your bike clicked into place, you hurried through the front doors of the school. Luckily (or unluckily), the halls were empty. So the obnoxious sqeaking of your shoes was heard by no one as you apprached the closed door to your English class.

With a grimace painting your face, you turned down the door handle and slipped in the classroom.

“Ah, Ms Jeon, how wonderful of you to finally decide to grace us with your presence.”

The sarcastic words from your teacher halted your steps mid-stride as all eyes in the room turned to you. You should have been embarassed at the way you’d been caught red-handed trying to slink into the room unoticed. But all you could do was give a hasty “sorry” and retreat to your empty desk in the back. Too bad your teacher wouldn’t let you go without a fight.

“First your brother, and now you? Do I need to make a phone call to your mother?”

Your hands stilled on the zipper of your half-open backpack as your head snapped up in surprised confusion. “My brother?”

The teacher merely raised an eyebrow and gave you a look over the rim of her square specticals. Her mouth was pinched in annoyance, stray wisps of hair escaping the sharp confines of her tight bun. “Yes, your brother. He wasn’t here for homeroom this morning. Any particular reason why?”

“He wasn’t here?” All you could do was pathetically repeat her words like some kind of human sized parrot. But you weren’t paying attention to the snickers from your classmates. No, you were too busy trying to stave off the feeling of dread that sunk low in your stomach.

“Need I repeat myself all day, Ms Jeon?” Your teacher rolled her eyes in exhasperation, though you were sure there must have been some annoyance in there too.

Mind clouding in barely concealed worry, you leaned forward, chest digging into the cold desk. “Jungkook didn’t show up this morning at all?”

Oh yeah, that was definitally annoyance. “Enough of this back-and-forth. Now, either pay attention or go to the principal’s office.”

Your back hit the chair. Maybe Jungkook decided to ditch homeroom? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you tried to ignore the unease that drifted through your veins like poison.

It was loud. A cacaphony of voices belonging to students as they all tried to speak over one another at once. And it was crowded, the room filled with the unmistakable stench of high school cafeteria food.

Plastic luch tray held between your hands, you slipped between lunch tables full of students until you reached the back of the room. It hit the surface of the table along with your backpack as you tossed them down and effectively scared the absolute crap out of Park Jimin. His head snapped up from where he’d been filling out his homework for his next class, startled.

“Y/n?” Your name slipped from his plush pink lips in a voice that you could only call hypnotic. Jimin dropped the pencil in his hand and ran his fingers through his soft blond hair. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my brother?” You cut straight to the chase and leaned forward to brace yourself on your elbows, lunch forgotton.

It’d been hours and you still hadn’t managed to catch even a single glance of your brother in the hallways. Usually you’d see each other at least three times before lunch. Hawkins High wasn’t a big school after all.

“Jungkook?” Jimin licked his lips and dipped a tater tot in ketchup until it was more tomato than potato. He may as well have just dipped a spoon in.

“No. Santa Clause.” You rolled your eyes and reached out to steal one of his tots, ignoring his ‘hey, you have your own!’ “Yes, Jungkook. You see him?”

Park Jimin looked confused. “No. Should I have?”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline as your gaze caught his warm brown eyes. Jimin had been a part of your childhood friend group. And while everyone else had grown apart throughout the years, you, Jimin, and Jungkook stayed together. Even though he was only a few months younger, you still looked at Jimin as another little brother of sorts.

“What do you mean, should you have?” That feeling of dread was back. Not that it’d really gone away in the first place. “You and Jungkook both have photography class in the mornings. Was he there?”

Jimin still looked confused as he ran a hand through his hair once again in a nervous habit that he’d never seemed able to kick. “No. Why? Is he sick or something?”

“You didn’t see him? At all?” You knew you were starting to sound like a broken record, but you couldn’t help it. Something was wrong. You just didn’t know what.

“No?”

He stilled at the sudden serious expression that overtook your face. And Jimin’s brows knit together as he leaned forward across the table. “What’s wrong, Y/n?”

Your mouth opened and closed while you fumbled, not quite sure how to phrase what you were thinking without sounding like you were going crazy. Eyes flickering around at your surroundings, you leaned closer to Jimin and ignored the sweet scent of the cologne you knew he stole from his dad.

“Look...I,” You paused before shaking your head. “I think something’s wrong. Jungkook left late last night and never came back.”

Jimin’s lips parted in surprise. “What--”

“I don’t have time to explain, but I have a really bad feeling, okay?” Voice hushed, you waited until Jimin nodded his head before you leaned back, mind made up. “I’m going to go to the police station and report him as a missing person.”

“Y/n.” Jimin reached out to cover one of your hands on the table. He hesitated for a moment, likely in preparation for what he was about to say. “Maybe he’s just skipping school or something. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

You were shaking your head before he even finished his last sentence. “No, Jimin. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

The sound of your chair scraping across the floor drowned out whatever it was that Jimin said in response. Reaching across the table, you scooped up your backpack and flung it over your shoulder. “Look, I’m going to the cops. Let me know if you see him, okay?”

“Wait, Y/n!” Jimin’s shout followed you all the way out of the cafeteria doors.

“I’ve been waiting here for over an hour, Mr. Hopper.”

Detective Sejin Hopper looked up at you from over the top of the typewriter on his cluttered desk. His dark eyes were narrowed behind the round lenses of his eyeglasses in a way that should have stopped the words from leaving your mouth. But not even the intimidating aura of Hawkins’ lead detective could stop you at that point.

“Couldn’t you, I don’t know.” You were sure that the heels of your converse were wearing a hole into the rug of his office, but you didn’t care. Hand waving through the air, you muttered, “Work a little faster?”

Hopper simply raised his eyebrows at you. The man was tall and bulky and filled the space in his office without even trying. He leaned back in his rolling chair, the springs protesting with age. “Shouldn’t you be in school, kid?”

Your feet foze and you stared down at him incrediously, hands on hips. “My brother is missing!”

With a sigh, Hopped pushed the typewritter aside and clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. “Look kid, he’s probably just playing hookie--”

“No.” You interrupted with a shake of your head, ignoring the irritation that flashed in his eyes. “He wouldn’t do that without at least telling me first.”

“You never know.” He simply shrugged. “Maybe he got a girlfriend or something and just didn’t want to come clean to his older sister out of embarassment. Happened to me when I was about his age. Then again, I did date my older sister’s best friend, so that may have had something to do with it.”

You threw your hands up in exhasperation. “My brother doesn’t have a girlfriend! He can’t even talk to girls without, like, throwing up!”

“You sure it’s girls he’s into, then? Maybe he got a boyfriend and that’s why he didn’t want to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Your jaw was hanging open at the sheer audacity of what just came from Detective Hopper’s mouth. “I know why you’re not taking me seriously right now, but please, I’m not pulling another prank on you this time. My brother is gone and I don’t know what else to do.”

Hopper paused, letting the silence in the room fester for a moment before he let out a deep, bone weary sigh. “What about your dad?”

You blinked, taken aback by the question that had absolutely nothing to do with the situation. “What about him?”

His voice softened from the harsh way he’d been speaking to you before. “Listen kid, ninety-nine percent of the time if a kid from a divorced home goes missing, they’re with their other parent.”

A scoff left you before you could think to stop it. “Jungkook hates our dad. There’s no way he would just up and leave in the middle of the night and travel to another state to see him. That doesn’t even make sense!”

Hopper opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “What about the other one percent?”

“The what?”

“You said ninety-nine percent. What about the other one percent?”

“Kid.” Hopper leaned forward against his desk once more, making sure to hold your wide-eyed stare with his serious one. “This is Hawkins. Do you know how many years I’ve been working here? Do you want to know the worst thing that’s ever happened? It was when an owl attacked Jackson Wang’s head, because it thought his hair was a nest.”

You pressed the tip of your tongue against the inside of your cheek in pure rage. Bending down, you scopped up your backpack that you’d abandoned on the floor and threw it over your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll find him myself. Thanks for all your help, Detective.”

He tried calling out to you, but you ignored him in favor of slamming the door to his office hard enough to rattle the stupid action figurines on the shelf perched above his head.

It was dusk by the time you made it to the treehouse.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were getting desperate because you knew for certain that Jungkook hadn’t been there in years. In fact, neither had you. But you’d searched everywhere, had gone to every single one of your brother’s usual haunts. And you’d tried to call your aunt, but the number listed for her landline was out of service. Typical. You’d even stopped by your house every hour just to check in case he’d decided to finally show his face.

But he hadn’t.

And now you were forced to do the one thing that you’d sworn you’d never do again.

Staring up at the treehouse high up in the branches, your eyes narrowed on the light shining through the window facing towards you. Which would have been suspicious enough if it weren’t for the trap door on the bottom of the structure hanging wide open. The only people who knew about the treehouse were you, your brother, and the rest of your abandoned friend group. And you didn’t think that any of them would bother going back to it.

Except maybe Jimin, but you knew he always hated going to the treehouse by himself. “It’s creepy out there.” He’d say. “You wouldn’t catch me dead out there by myself.”

It was quiet in the middle of the woods. Too quiet.

The only sound came from the leaves crunching underfoot as you trudged up to the ladder broken off halfway down the tree. You eyed it, bottom lip caught in your teeth as you tried to strategize how to best reach it. Until finally, with a sigh, you grabbed onto the lowest tree branch and started to climb.

You hated heights. Always had and always would. And as your shoes dug into the rungs of the ladder, you tried your best not to let the sense of vertigo overtake you.

“Hello?” You shouted into the open hatch, not quite confident enough in it being empty to go through it yet. But when all you got in return was silence, you lifted yourself up the rest of the way and climbed inside.

It was exactly as you remembered. Just with more dust.

Every single surface, from the half-rotten stools to the wooden box that’d been used as a makeshift table, to the faded pictures and posters tacked onto the walls, were covered in layers of dust. A wave of nostalgia hit you in a way that you were completely unprepared for. It’d been a while.

The sound of your shoes tapping on the floor reached your ears as you made your way over to a partially opened box in the far corner. It was buried underneath what was once a white sheet, but was now grey with age and dirt. Dust spread into the air as you ripped it off and your hands came up to shield your nose from the onslaught.

Dropping to the floor, you ignored the cold press of wood on your exposed kneecaps. Luckily it was still spring, so you didn’t have to worry about the cold weather just yet. But the opened tabs of the cardboard box was cold to the touch.

Inside, you dug through all of the items that’d been abandoned, untouched by time, until you reached what lay at the bottom. With careful hands, you extracted a heavy, black and grey hand radio and cradled it between your fingers. You wiped off the dirt with the bottom of your shirt, lips pulled up into a small, wistful smile.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. I wonder if you still work.” Taking a deep breath, you let your thumb hover over the “on” switch. You hadn’t used it in years. Not since you’d dropped it into the box that fateful day, never to be seen again.

“Now’s not the time to reminisce, Y/n.” You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the memories that threatened to drown you in nostalgia. A shaky exhale, and then you pressed the button.

It took a moment too long in which you lost hope, before the radio sputtered to life with static. The “on” light lit up a bright red and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Luckily, the settings were still set to exactly where they’d been before. Although it wasn’t like you didn’t still have them memorized.

“Okay.” You murmured, voice trembling. Not because you were afraid per se, but because you didn’t even know if they’d answer. You fingers pressed the “talk” button and held it down.

“Guys?” Hesitating, you cleared your throat before speaking again. “I don’t know if you’re listening. Or if you even still have one of these things. But um...I hope you do. Because I’m calling a code red.”

You paused. “I need you. Wherever you are.”

The silence inside the treehouse was stifling. And the sun had long gone down, leaving you to sit under the light of a single lightbulb.

You didn’t know why you were still there. Still waiting despite the numerous hours that’d passed you by. Maybe it was a sliver of hope that you dared to hold on to that kept you rooted to the floor, cross-legged and leaning back against one of the walls. Whatever it was, you were running out of time.

To find your brother, to figure out what the hell was going on, to formulate a plan. But, you supposed, there was no better way to brainstorm than being left on your own for hours on end. Which was why your backpack lay open, discarded somewhere beside you as your attention lay focused on the papers scattered across the floor.

Jungkook had left your house at appoximately 11:26 PM. It would take him about fifteen minutes to bike his way down to the store. Add in another five or so minutes to purchase snacks and exit the store. And then another fifteen minutes to bike home.

That left a window of thirty-five minutes total for him to go missing. Which meant that he had to have dissappeared somewhere between 11:26 PM and 12:01 AM.

You’d already paid the convinience store a visit earlier in the afternoon, only to have them inform you that the person who’d been on shift last night was on vacation. And they’d refused to give out the phone number of where their employee was staying. Typical. Convienent.

Suspect.

There was--

The sound of voices hit your eardums and you paused with your pencil hovered above a sheet of paper. Leaning forward in a useless attempt at hearing better, your ears strained to listen over the noise of crickets.

“--knows.”

You knew that voice. Would recognize it even though it’d been years since you last held a conversation. Your bare legs scratched against the floor as you scrambled to your feet, hands already brushing the back of your shorts to rid yourself of any possible dirt. The voices were getting louder. As well as the accompanying footsteps

“--be good.” That was definitely Namjoon’s raspy voice. “Had to ditch practice for this.”

“I’m sure it is.” Hoseok’s low vocal fry.

“How the hell are we supposed to get up there?” Yoongi’s deep, lazy drawl.

The pencil fell from your hand at the sound of someone scrambling up the treehouse ladder. You’d closed the door not too long after entering, though you’d made sure to keep it unlatched just in case.

“Can I get a leg up?” Jimin.

“Aren’t you supposed to grow taller as you age?” Seokjin’s windshield wiper laugh. God, it’d been so long since you’d heard it. “Or have you not been drinking your milk?”

You could hear Jimin scoff through the floorboards. “I’m lactose intollerant. You know this.”

Before you could make a sound, the trapdoor swung upwards and in popped a familiar head of red hair. Golden skin and cherub cheekbones: Hoseok. He jerked a little in surprise at seeing you standing there, but then the tiny dimples between the corner of his lips and the edge of his cheeks came out of hiding with a smile.

“Hey, Y/n.” He greeted you casually, like you’d seen each other less than an hour ago. Like he hadn’t abandoned the rest of you the second he landed a spot on the school dance team. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Namjoon’s voice interrupted before you could speak past the lump in your throat. “Now move before I fall down this stupid thing.”

“Sorry.” With a chuckle, Hoseok climbed the rest of the way inside, followed by the even brighter red hair of Namjoon. You would have thought they’d planned having the same colored hair, but based on the sheer fact that they hadn’t hung out in years, it was an accident.

“Y/n.” Namjoon jerked his head in a stiff nod.

As he emerged from the door, you noticed that he was wearing Hawkins High’s varsity football uniform. Like he’d rushed right over from practice. While he both acted and dressed differently than what he used to, Namjoon was still all deep dimples and plump lips and intelligent eyes.

Not all things were possible to change, afterall.

“Namjoon.” You crossed your arms across your chest and flashed Hoseok a quick, closed mouth smile. “Hoseok.”

Next to pop their way into the treehouse was Jimin, who stepped to your side with arms already outstretched to envelop you a hug of greeting. His familiar scent washed over you and you felt your tense muscles relax just a little. “Any luck?”

Jimin pulled back at the shake of your head to shoot you a sad smile. “We’ll find him, I’m sure.”

“Find who?”

Your head shot up as Seokjin entered with Yoongi trailing close behind. The eldest stood tall, his broad shoulders taking up more space than they used to. Seokjin wasn’t even in high school anymore. He’d graduated just last year, but still stayed in Hawkins to attend the community college in the next town over. Most likely so he could help take care of his mother since he his father died a few years back.

A flash of blue caught your attention when Yoongi stepped out from behind the taller man. His once blond locks had been dyed a vibrant shade of cotton candy blue. And you would have raised an eyebrow at him if it weren’t for the sheer fact that Yoongi was known for not giving a shit about other people’s opinions.

You’d been close once. So close that you used to know every single detail about his life. From the way he dreamed about moving to New York City to study music. Or that he hated pineapple on pizza. Or that he used to harbor the biggest crush on Hoseok.

But now he was a stranger.

They all were.

Except Jimin, but that was beside the point.

“Why are we here?” Namjoon spoke up over the tense silence lingering in the air. The treehouse was cramped now, filled to the brim with bodies that once used to fit together so easily.

Seokjin nodded slowly, eyes finding yours as he brushed a strand of dark hair off of his tanned forehead. “Good question.”

All attention was on you and you almost wilted under their heavy stares. “I’m surprised you came, to be honest.”

Yoongi shifted in place, a look of something that you weren’t quite quick enough to catch flashing in his feline-like eyes. With hands stuffed into the front pouch of his hoodie, he sucked in air through his teeth in a habit that used to bring you comfort. “You called a code red.”

You had to actively stop the corners of your mouth from twitching up into a smile. “Yeah, I did. Still surprised that you even heard the call though.”

“Namjoon was the only one who did, actually.” Jimin nodded his head at a now uncomfortable looking football player. “He came and grabbed the rest of us. That’s why we took so long to get here.”

Namjoon just shrugged one shoulder casually, like it was no big deal. “Mom was making me go through all of my old stuff before practice. So it was pure luck that I happened to be doing it at the same time you radioed in.”

“Convienent.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow at the other artificial redhead, who just gave another shrug in response.

“We’re getting away from the point here.” Seokjin took control of the conversation. “Why are we here?”

A pause filled the small space as everyone turned to you yet again. Jimin’s body heat sinking into your side from where he stood right beside you filled you with a confidence that you wouldn’t normally possess.

“Jungkook is missing.”

“Missing.” Yoongi stated, head tilting to the side and hair shifting to expose the pale skin of his forehead.

You nodded. “Yes. Missing.”

From his place standing across from you, Namjoon crossed his arms. “Explain.”

“Well, he left late last night to get some snacks at around 11:26.” Your tongue wet your lips as you mentally prepared for them to call you crazy. “And never came back.”

“Did you go to the police?” The question came from Seokjin as he knit his brows with what looked like worry, but you couldn’t be too sure. He was good at acting, afterall.

“I tried.” You fidgeted nervously with the necklace dangling from your neck, fingers twisting it to-and-fro anxiously.

Jimin’s hand came up to rest on your shoulder comfortingly. “And?”

All you could do was scoff. “Detective Hopper basically told me to fuck off.”

Out of the corner of your eye, every single eyebrow raised to the ceiling. A huff of laughter passed Hoseok’s lips. “She cusses now. You guys hear that?”

You sent him the nastiest glare you could muster and watched as his eyes widened in surprise. “You’d know that if you cared enough to stick around.”

Hoseok’s flinch was impossible to go unnoticed. But you didn’t care if he was hurt by your comment because there were more important matters at hand.

“So you need our help to look for him?” Yoongi’s voice softened around the hard edge he normally carried. And at your nod, his hand lifted to finger one of his pierced earlobes in thought. “What about your mom?”

“On vacation in Florida and I have no way to reach her.” You sighed. “The phone number she left us was a dud.”

Namjoon hummed, lips pursed as he racked his brain. “Well maybe if we--”

Crack!

All seven of you jumped at the loud echo of a tree branch snapping.

“What was that?” Hoseok’s voice was hushed as he took an unconsious step closer towards the center of the circle.

“An animal?” Jimin was equally as quiet. “It could have--”

Crack!

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that’s an animal.”

Your own eyes widened at the statement. “Jungkook!”

“Wait, Y/n. It might not be him.” Seokjin’s warning went unheard as you rushed to the still open hatch.

“Or it could be.”

The protests from all six men followed you down the ladder and all the way to the ground. Though they weren’t too far behind you. You turned on your heel to search the darkness around you, looking for Jungkook’s long black hair. Or his tall frame. Or his wide shoulders. Anything.

A hand clamping down on your shoulder tore a scream of surprise from your throat. Your head snapped around to greet the sharp jawline of Hoseok’s profile. His narrowed eyes were fixed past you on something that you couldn’t see. “What is that?”

You turned to look at what he was pointing at, everyone else stepping closer to do the same. At first you didn’t see it, couldn’t make out anything at all. Until, there! A flash of silver caught your eye.

“Hello?” Seokjin’s obnoxiously loud voice boomed across the tiny clearing and echoed far bayond the treeline.

“Don’t call it over here, idiot!” Hoseok hissed through his teeth, fingers unconsiously tightening their hold on your shoulder.

But his warning came too late. Because whetever was out there hidden in the darkness of the trees came closer. And if you strained your ears, you could just barely make out the sound of footfalls brushing against the grass.

“What the…” Jimin’s voice came from your other side, but you were too busy focused on whatever that thing was to care. “Wait…I think that’s a person.”

A beam of light flashed from Namjoon’s hand, temporarily startling everyone at the sudden appearance of a flashlight. At least he’d been smart enough to grab it. And shine it right in the eyes of the being that emerged from the shadows like a wraith. Hoseok’s high-pitched scream threatened to deafen you, but you couldn’t look away.

Because standing on the other side of the clearing was a boy, a stranger. Everyone knew everyone in Hawkins and you would have remembered seeing him around. Never would you have forgotten a face that breathtakingly beautiful. With golden skin and large brown eyes, he stared at the seven of you like he’d never seen another human being before.

Wavy silver hair framed his face, and his lips--the top a perfect cupid’s bow--were slightly parted in something that you couldn’t discern. But it wasn’t just his entrancing face or slim build that caught your attention. No, it was the dried blood stained on the front of his sunshine yellow, oversized dirty t-shirt.

“Who the hell are you?”

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