Stranger Love

Chapter One:

"It's day 136. A year and a half since you've been gone. Not much has happened really, It's like we always said, 'nothing ever happens in Hawkins'. Life has just gone on without you which I hated at first. I hated seeing anyone smile, remember when I screamed that at you a while back? I was in so much pain and people were smiling and laughing as if you had never existed, as if they didn't care. Of course I know now that it's just life. Life must go on.

So I still don't really know what happened to Barb. It's all very mysterious. I do think it's all connected though; Will Byers disappearing, you...and then Barb. I can't prove anything though, how could I? I wish I had answers. I really want to know why.

School is starting again tomorrow, I managed to fix up my car so it actually works now. Oh, and we got some new neighbours who moved in last week, still haven't really met them properly. I believe there is a young girl and a boy around my age, but that is all I know. Mom said she will bring them a welcome casserole so I guess she will drag me along for that.

Mom has still been drinking, a lot. She says it helps her cope. I need to tell her to stop but I am afraid, afraid she will do something more stupid and I will be left with no parents at all. The diner is fine, I work there after school every night and Charles is looking after it brilliantly. Don't think I could have kept it going without him. Wez still comes in every Friday for his coffee and pancakes, sometimes I think he has forgotten you are no longer there and he relives the pain all over again.

How is it on the other side? I hope you are having fun."

The young girl placed a single white snow drop against the head stone, the damp grass penetrating her light faded jeans. She had been sitting beside her father's grave for nearly an hour, like she did every week on Sunday.

Just over a year had passed since Jim Hopper, the chief of Hawkins Police, had knocked on their front door in the late evening. Removing his hat solemnly, the tall man had given them the most horrific news they had ever heard in their lives.

Benny Hammond had been shot at point blank range... for the money in the til.

Well. That was the 'official' story.

Everyone knew Benny's. It was a local diner, in a small town where everybody knew everyone. Hawkins never had any break-ins, robberies, or murders. Not like in the city. So, when Anya Hammond had heard the story, she'd hadn't believed a word.

She still didn't.

Her father's death had been a great loss to the community, but even more of a loss to Anya. She loved her father, more than anything in the world. He had been kind, generous, loving and loyal. Her parents had been completely in love with each other since meeting in High School and were married at 19, Anya following swiftly. Her grandparents on her father side visited every three months since her birth, but her Mom's parents wouldn't. They never liked Benny, nor the fact he 'corrupted' their perfect daughter, who was supposed to marry a rich socialite and work in an office in the big city somewhere.

Patricia Hammond, her Mom, was beautiful. She had curly long locks of black ebony hair and pale, flawless skin. Her eyes were rounded, inset and framed with long lashes. Anya was practically a double of her mother, only looked younger. The similarities between the mother and daughter were so striking that people often thought they were sisters.

The past year, however, had not been kind on her Mom. Patricia seemed to have aged twenty years since her father had died; her hair greying, eyes wrinkling at the corners and a permanent frown on her full lips.

Anya had been the one looking after her Mom, looking after the house and the business as well. She would be damned if that diner closed, she owed that much to her Dad.

Standing up, Anya glanced down one more time at her father's name etched forever in stone. "I will see you next week Dad," She said, before scanning the graveyard to find Bracken.

The large German Shepard cross was bounding around the place, tail wagging happily. "Bracken, come on girl! Time to go," The dog's ears pricked up and she trotted over to Anya, who began walking back home through the fields.

Bracken was a four-year-old bitch that her Dad had found begging at the back door of the diner. She had only been 8 weeks old and looked half starved. After a lot of begging on Anya's part, her parents had allowed her to keep the mottled brown mutt. She and Bracken went pretty much everywhere together, hell she'd even take her to school if it wasn't against the rules!

Anya lit up a cigarette as she walked, feeling relaxed instantly as she took long, heavy drags. Her Mom didn't like smoking so Anya had to make do with smoking when she could. Knowing it was a bad habit, she planned to quit one day, but that day just wasn't today.

She stubbed out the offending item before entering through the back door, music pumping from the living room. Tina Turner's 'What's love got to do with it' that had been number one in the charts for most of the month was playing whilst her Mom's singing was just about audible.

"I'm home Mom!" Anya cried, hearing the music's volume decrease slightly.

"Hey honey!" Patricia exclaimed happily, stumbling into the kitchen with a glass of whiskey in her hand. "Nice walk?"

"It was Ok. Some of the trees looked like they have a disease though, they might have to cut them down before it spreads any more I reckon," Anya watched as her mother fussed Bracken for a while. "Anything to eat?"

"Charles is bringing some after he closes up the diner later,"

"Cool, is he going to be staying again?"

Patricia took a big gulp of the amber liquid in her glass. "Probably. I know you think I am being reckless but he has done a lot for us this past year,"

"I doubt you need to sleep with him as a thank you Mom. Plus, I think he is really starting to like you which won't end well and you know it," Anya bustled around the kitchen to get Bracken's food. Her Mom had been seeing Charles for the past couple of months. Anya knew it was because her mother was lonely, and Charles was infatuated with her. He probably wanted more, a relationship, but Patricia was not going to play ball on that one.

Her Mom had cried for six months after Benny died and then proceeded to make a mess of her life. She had disappeared for weeks on end, and Charles had been the one to bring her home every time. Now she had calmed down somewhat, only tending to drink rather more than one probably should.

"I do like him sweet, just maybe not as much as he likes me. It can't be helped," Patricia just shrugged, alarmingly nonchalant about potentially breaking a man's heart into pieces. Then again, her Mom had gotten rather good at numbing her emotions, and so had Anya.

Bracken began munching at her food as the soon to be 18 year old turned to face her Mom. "Just don't drive him away. We need him,"

"Of course I won't!" Patricia suddenly let out a squeak. "We have to drop the casserole I made to the new neighbours!"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Can't we just eat it? I'm starving and I really don't see the need to bring food to people, it's not like they won't have any,"

"Anya Hammond, you know full well it is customary amongst Hawkins to bring food round to a new family! Moving into a new home is stressful, they will be grateful for the show of kindness,"

"You sound like a commercial Mom." Anya deadpanned, pulling her coat back on. "Let's get it over with then,"

They approached the front door of the house adjacent to theirs. Big back yards, a forest as a back drop and large space for houses was why most people lived in Hawkins. It was a bit of a 'in the middle of nowhere' sort of place, but her Dad had been born and bred there. There was nowhere else she would have wanted to grow up.

Anya frowned, hearing loud angry shouting coming from inside. "Maybe this isn't such a good time?"

Her Mom, however, still hazy from her drinking, knocked on the door firmly. The shouting behind it ceased, and they were greeted by a tall man with a dark moustache. He looked at them like they were the last thing he wanted to deal with. "Yes?"

"Hi there! My name is Patricia Hammond, and this is my daughter, Anya. We live next door," Patricia gestured towards their establishment.

"Right. Well this is not a very good time right now-"

"Oh, I only stopped by to say a neighbourly hello and give you this," Her Mom thrust the casserole at the flummoxed man. "It's a Hawkins tradition!"

"Neil, who is it?" Came a soft woman's voice, before she came into full view. She was small, with red hair and big brown doe eyes. "Oh, hello there,"

"These are our new neighbours," Neil told the woman, who was presumably his wife. "This is my wife Susan,"

"Susan! It is good to meet you. I was just telling your husband about our tradition here in Hawkins, can't have new neighbours without greeting them with a home cooked casserole!" Whether it was obvious to this family that her mother had been drinking, Anya did not know. Patricia was very good at functioning even with litres of alcohol in her system.

"Well don't leave them on the doorstep Neil, come in," Susan said, earning a sharp look from Neil. She dutifully ignored his glare, taking the casserole from Patricia as they stepped inside. "Thank you, this looks lovely,"

Anya took in the house. There were still boxes in the hallway and various bits and bobs lying around. The place looked clean, though. The last person to live in this house was Mira, an old lady who had passed away in her sleep. She'd been the doting mother to five cats who had been rehomed, though Patricia had at one stage been keen to take them on. Mira also had two sons who she hadn't seen in over twenty years. Neither of them attended her funeral.

"So where have you folks moved from?" Patricia asked.

"California," Neil responded. "Needed a new start. Billy! Maxine! Come and greet our neighbours!" He barked up the stairs, his voice echoing through the house. A disgruntled looking young girl ambled her way to the bottom of the stairs, her hair the same beautiful shade of red as Susan's. "This is Susan's girl, Maxine, and my boy is Billy...BILLY! Get yourself down here NOW!"

"Alright!" A masculine cry came from above.

"My son is one of these kids who believes everything will just fall to him on a plate, so you will have to excuse his attitude," The way Neil said those words made Anya frown slightly. There was clearly some very deep routed issues, even if she had only been in the house two seconds.

Her mind went completely blank, however, when said Billy came tumbling down the stairs.

He was like one of the boys she'd seen in the movies; thick, gorgeous dark blond hair falling just to the nape of his neck. Very blue eyes framed with long black lashes, a silver earing hanging from his right ear. He wore tight fitted denim jeans with a navy blue shirt, the buttons opened to reveal a chiselled, Californian tanned chest.

Billy was beautiful.

Anya fought to keep herself under control. She smoothed a hand through her dark, feathered hair, wishing she'd put some make-up on. The boots she was wearing were at least three years old, completely worn and tattered from continuous use, and her oversized coat hung off her small frame, making her look like a child who'd borrowed her Dad's clothes.

Billy's blue eyes met Anya's equally blue orbs and she prayed her cheeks wouldn't flush. He had a smirk on his lips, flashing the two Hammond women a dazzlingly white smile.

"Billy, these are our neighbours, Patricia and her daughter Anya. Use your manners and say hello," Neil instructed. For a split second, Anya saw Billy's smirk falter, before it returned.

"Hello," He drawled, eyes fixed on Anya.

"Billy is starting Hawkins high tomorrow, what grade are you in Anya?" Susan chimed, obviously trying to break the tension.

"Oh, I'm starting twelfth," Anya answered, tearing her eyes away from Billy, who had begun raking his gaze over her entire body. She felt like she was being x-rayed, as if he had powers that could see right beneath her clothes.

"Billy, you hear that? At least you will know someone at school now," Susan half smiled.

Billy's grin only got wider. "Yeah Susan, how great is that?" His voice was laced with sarcasm, sounding like liquid honey. Anya doubted this boy had any feeling of nervousness, even if he was starting in a brand-new school where he knew no one.

"Maybe you can teach my son some manners while you are at it," Neil voiced, glaring harder at his son than ever before. Billy's jaw clenched, one of his thick dark eyebrows twitching.

"Is your husband working?" Susan asked innocently. Anya saw her mother tense up and decided to jump in quickly.

"No, my Dad was murdered last year."

Patricia elbowed her daughter sharply, but Anya just stared straight ahead, not a believer in beating around the bush.

The silence was deafening. Anya hated pity, and the way Susan was looking at her screamed pity. "I am so sorry, my condolences,"

Anya just wanted out of there. From the pitying looks she was receiving to the now hard stare from that gorgeous excuse for a boy, she took hold of her mother's arm. "It's OK. We better be going, some of us need beauty sleep before tomorrow,"

Susan gave a hard-faux laugh. "A beautiful girl like you? I don't think so,"

"It's the lighting," Anya began pulling her Mom to the front door. Patricia was going into shut down mode, and she needed to get her home before she began having a meltdown.

"Thank you so much for the casserole!" Susan continued to jabber at them as they exited the house, Anya still feeling those blue eyes on her before the door was swung shut. They got back inside quickly, Bracken's tail wagging furiously as her owner's returned.

"Mom, you can't shut down like that every time Dad is mentioned! They don't know us, what did you think they wouldn't ask any questions?"

Patricia looked at her daughter with glazed eyes. "Why did you have to be so blunt about it Anya?"

"Because it's the truth! I didn't want you to spin one of your lies again, saying he is a soldier at war or something! It's unfair!" Anya watched as her Mom pulled her long hair up into a loose bun, before pouring herself another glass of whiskey.

"I don't like it! At least when I tell my stories there is a chance your daddy will come back to us," Patricia let a tear fall down her cheek as she whispered. "I just want him back with us."

Anya pulled her Mom into a hug. "I know. I want him back too."