Chapter Text
A FEW WEEKS LATER
“Mom! Bobby stole my headphones!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“I didn’t!”
“Who el-”
“Boys!” You interrupt Tom and Bobby’s bickering. “Tom, go borrow your father’s. We can buy you a new pair.”
He huffs. “But-”
“No buts. We’ll sort this out in the car. Are you finished packing your backpack?”
“Mom! I can’t find my sweatshirt!” You hear from a different direction.
“It’s folded on the drying rack! You would know if you got your clothes!”
“Thank you!”
“Mom, can we get Burger King?” Asks the fourth child.
“Go ask your father!”
You rub your forehead, wondering what sadist came up with the idea of family vacations. You wonder what possessed you to have six kids and honestly can’t help but be grateful one is out of the house already. Of course, you’re excited to see said oldest. Her husband Joel couldn’t get off work, so it’s just her and Asher, and you can’t wait to see your grandbaby. And, yes, you’re forty seven with an almost-two-year-old grandson; you had your firstborn at nineteen, and while she had hers at the closer-to-average age of twenty-six, that still leaves you pretty young for a grandmother.
Hank, too, was excited to see her, had been there her whole life since before she was born and loved her like a daughter. You and Hank got married in ‘94, but he had been present all eight years of her life leading up to the wedding. Back in 1986, one Steve Harrington and a drunken New Year’s mistake led to a decided not-drunken-mistake and one of the best parts of your life, Julie Robin Goldstein née Harrington. For her, the news that you were going to be in Hawkins was some of the best of her life. Getting to see her mom, stepdad, dad, stepmom, and various half-siblings all in the same place? It’s a dream.
You’re grateful you and Hank have an amicable relationship with Steve and Jackie. As it is, you’re all friendly. Not best friends, but you’ve been involved in each others’ lives due to sharing a daughter, can go out for drinks when you’re together; you’ve taken care of the Harrington children a few times, and your own children have stayed with them some times when you and Hank have had to go on work trips. You and Steve had been best friends once, and while you missed what had been, you two were still pretty close. You and Jackie got along fine, as did Steve and Hank; not great friends, with an understanding that there was a semblance of shared love, but safe in the knowledge that your marriages were healthy and there would be no threat or lingering preference of another. At one point, you and Jackie jokingly referred to yourselves as ‘sister wives’, but stopped when it made Hank uncomfortable.
Your younger five kids, all with Hank, are excited to see ‘Pops’—Hopper’s grandfather name—and their Uncle Steve and Aunt Jackie. They’re probably the only relatives they’ll see, unless Uncle Will and Uncle Mike stop in from San Francisco. Max and Lucas are at the McChord Air Force base in Tacoma, Washington, with their two sets of twins, Lucas a fighter pilot and Max a lawyer currently working for a large firm based Seattle; Dustin and Suzie, both scientists, are involved in some research project in Alaska that flies over your head every time they talk about it, with a gaggle of too many kids to count; Jonathan and his girlfriend, Samantha Stone, are who knows where with their son, Archie; Robin and Vickie, married in the majority of the fifty states, are in Denver, having wanted kids but not wanting to physically have them (in the end, Vickie was artificially inseminated, at which point they decided never to do that again); Eddie Munson, a rocker who you’ve met a handful of times but is apparently close to Steve and Robin, as well as the person your daughter Ryan took one look at at age six and decided to emulate, his wife (an elementary school teacher) Chrissy Cunningham, and their two daughters are in New York City; also in New York are Nancy, who never had kids, and her husband James; as well as Erica Sinclair, who got divorced from her asshole ex-husband three years ago and is currently living with her long-term girlfriend, Blake, and their cats; in North Carolina, there’s Jane, now an author, and her husband Brett, who owns a farm, and their two daughters and son; in Hawkins, along with the Harringtons, is of course Joyce and Hopper, as well as Holly Wheeler and her fiancé and five-year-old daughter, with another on the way; as well as, surprisingly enough, the eternal-friends-with-benefits-situatuonship of Argyle and Eden, the former of whom just couldn’t get enough of trees, you suppose. Still, Holly, Argyle, and Eden never quite hit ‘found family’ level, although Holly is some semblance of close to, so you really consider the Harringtons the only extended family (other than their grandparents) that your kids will be seeing.
You digress.
After leaving an hour and a half late, it’s a four-hour drive to Hawkins, near the border with Ohio but almost exactly parallel to Indianapolis; it’s a little north to be almost on the Wabash River, but still pretty close to Richmond, IN. You do, as requested incessantly by Lauren, stop at a Burger King on the way; Hank ends up having to deal with his sons on the topic of headphones; Ryan, with her sweatshirt, is pretty much quiet the whole trip, save an argument with Sarah over how much room they have; and the majority of the struggles are from the three youngest, currently arguing over where the DVD player needs to be positioned so everyone can see. You’ve decided that next time, you’re all flying, no matter how expensive, and seating them all in different rows. Hank raises his brows at your suggestion when you whisper it to him after telling Lauren to stop putting her feet in Bobby’s space for the millionth time.
“You really want to put this on a plane?”
You huff, glancing back. “Okay, maybe not, but still.”
By the time you reach the hotel in Hawkins—by no means a Hilton, but it’ll do for a week—you’re considering getting your tubes tied. Yes, you’re in your forties, but it’s still a possibility and you want to avoid happy little surprises however possible.
Lauren immediately chooses Tom for her chariot, jumping onto his back, and he begrudgingly complies until he realizes it can be his excuse for helping with bags. Bobby helps you and Hank with them, Ryan and Sarah doing the same after a long stretch and talking to each other in low tones, having flipped a switch and become amicable after the car ride. It’s always like this with these two, hot then cold then cycling back to hot again; always has been.
“Alright, kids, where do we want to eat?” Hank asks after you’ve checked in and gotten the rooms sorted and set up. You’re currently texting a group chat you have with him, Steve, and Jackie to let the latter two know you made it to Hawkins. Jules and Asher aren’t flying into Indianapolis until tomorrow, so for now, it’s just the… seven of you. Unless you count the Harringtons, and then it’s just the thirteen of you.
“Enzo’s!” Ryan suggests.
“Benny’s!” Tom counters.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you interrupt. “Benny’s is back open? Who’s running it?”
“Eddie payed for it.” Sarah shoots you a quizzical look. “I thought you knew? Apparently, Benny and Wayne had a relationship and just weren’t, y’know, out, because it was a hick town in the seventies and eighties. Once he had enough money, Eddie bought it and had it reopened in Benny’s memory. Don’t know who’s actually running it now, but it does pretty well.”
“Let’s go to Benny’s, then,” Hank decides.
“I can drive,” you tell him. “It’s been a while, but I went to Benny’s a lot when I was younger. That place is stuck in ny brain.”
Benny’s turns out to be surprisingly popular, considering it’s a mom-and-pop diner that was already on its way out even before the mall opened, back in the ‘80s. Jackie had asked where you guys were headed, and in the time between deciding and finishing freshening up and loading back up, they had already headed to Benny’s and were currently waiting on you. It was pretty obvious where—there’s a long table comprised of a bunch of tables squished together in the back middle of the room, in order to fit everyone.
Sarah sits by Jackie, abandoning you immediately. Steve rises to greet you and Hank, but is bombarded by Lauren, Bobby rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Hey Uncle Steve!”
“Hey, Lauren.” Hands full, Steve nods at you and your husband instead. “Y/n. Hank.”
“Steve. Jackie.”
The woman in question, after talking to Sarah for a second, rounds the table to embrace you and Hank in turn. “Hey, guys. How was the drive?”
You and your husband share a look as you sit, and Steve winces, the Harrington couple following your lead. “That bad, huh? We get it.”
Tom glances up from his conversation with fellow fourteen-year-old Dylan Harrington. “Hey!” They both exclaim in sync, offended. There are four stair-step Harrington boys—Jackie so wanted a girl, but they finally had to stop. The oldest, Dustin, named after his godfather, is sixteen and has brought his girlfriend Analyse; next is Dylan; after him is twelve-year-old TJ, who is talking to Ryan and getting annoyed at her including Bobby in conversation despite his best attempts at ignoring the younger boy; and last is ten-year-old Nick, who is currently talking to a no-longer-occupied Lauren.
“Mom?” You turn at the voice. “Can Dylan stay at the hotel with us?”
“Why don’t you ask your dad?” You suggest, not wanting to be the villain right now. You’ve had enough practice; Hank has to catch up.
Hank sends you a betrayed look, and it’s Jackie to the rescue. “Why don’t the boys stay at our house tonight? They can have a sleepover?”
You send her a look of awe. “Jackie, I could marry you right now.”
Steve and Hank share a wide eyed look. “Please don’t,” the former says quickly.
“Yeah, let’s hold off on the world domination plans for a little while,” Hank agrees. He glances at you. “I’m fine with that if you guys are sure.”
“We’ve handled them before.” Steve waves away your husband’s concerns. “We’ll… hopefully… survive.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” you put down your menu to look at him. “Did you want to pick up Jules and Asher from the airport or should I?”
“Um, no.” Hank shuts that down quick. “You came here to talk to Hopper, you’re not getting out of it.”
You send him a look, which he meets with a raised brow. If you were really panicking, he wouldn’t be pressuring you, but he knows you well enough to know that these nerves are the kind that you need to get over. “Look, what’s the worst he’s going to do? Say you remind him of a murderer?”
You blush. “Touché.”
Steve raises a brow at the oddly specific insult but doesn’t comment on it, instead suggesting, “If you want Hank with you when you see him, I can get Jules and Asher.”
You worry your lip. “Actually… can you come with us? Jackie, if you don’t mind picking them up?”
Jackie furrows her brow. “I’m fine if Steve’s good with it, but who’s going to watch the kids?”
“We can,” Sarah interrupts, gesturing to herself, Ryan, and Dustin, pretending as if she wasn’t just blatantly eavesdropping.
“Yeah, we can watch the shi- snotheads,” Ryan agrees, Dustin giving a thumbs up beside her. Dylan glares at his older brother, who ignores him, while you succeed at not facepalming or talking to Ryan about why she should not be insulting her siblings. Once, you made the mistake of saying “openly insulting” and found out she definitely inherited your and Hank’s lawyer brains. Never again.
You glance over to the other three adults. Steve is raising a dubious eyebrow at his son and your daughters, Hank is looking them over scrutinizingly, and Jackie has a pensive look. She meets your eyes. “Thoughts? I’m down if you all are.”
“Yeah,” Hank agrees. “Sounds good to me.”
“The ratio is one to two, so they should be fine,” you admit.
All eyes turn to Steve, who huffs, running a hand through his hair—a habit he never did quite get over. “Okay,” he concedes reluctantly. “But if my house is trashed by the time we get back I’m blaming you three.”
Jackie pats her husband’s arm consolingly, generously allowing him to believe it wouldn’t have happened without his agreement. She winks over at you and you keep your responding grin small so as not to catch him or Hank on. Whoever wrote My Big Fat Greek Wedding was right—the man may be the ‘head’ of the house, but the woman most definitely is the neck that turns him. It’s as they say—if Mamma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.
“Hi.” A cheerful waitress appears at the end of the table, hair pulled back into a ponytail that’s falling slightly, hairs slipping from it. “What can I get you started on to drink?”
And so, the Hunger Games: “Nine Children, Mostly Preteens and Teens” Edition begins.