December 24, 1983

"Something is coming. Something angry. Hungry for your blood. It is almost here."

Mike paused dramatically, making the boys around the table fidget in anticipation.

"What is it?" asked Will.

"It's the thessalhydra," said Dustin. "I'm telling you…"

"It's not the thessalhydra," Lucas dismissed.

"I'm telling you, it's the thessalhydra!"

"THE THESSALHYRDA!" Mike slammed a figurine down onto the board, effectively ending the argument and sending a wave of groans around the table. "It roars in anger! Will, your action!"

"What should I do?" Will asked in a panic. "I don't…"

"Fireball him!" Lucas insisted.

Everyone turned to Dustin for his opinion. He stroked his chin, then grinned in agreement. "Fireball the son of a bitch."

Will grabbed the dice, shaking them fervently and then throwing them down onto the board. There was a split second of fear as they all counted. Then the basement erupted into screams once more.

"Fourteen!"

"Boom!"

"Direct hit!"

"Yes!"

"Will the Wise's fireball hits the thessalhydra! It makes a painful—eeeryaaaaagh! And then, it crumbles to the ground! Its clawed hand reaches for you one last time and, and, and, and…"

Mike reeled around the room, staggering across the basement and falling to his knees. He trembled, one hand stretched toward his friends. And then his head collapsed to the table.

The way the boys screamed, it sounded like they were celebrating the damn moon landing. They jumped out of their chairs, arms thrust in the air, and began to circle the table with rhythmic chanting. Mike grinned, returning to his DM chair and referring to his notes.

"Lucas cuts off its seven heads, and Dustin places them into his bag of holding. You carry the heads out of the dungeon, victorious, and you present them to King Tristan. He thanks you for your bravery and service."

The cheers stopped abruptly.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah," Dustin said, shaking his head. "That's not it, is it?"

"No, there's a medal ceremony…"

"Oh, a medal ceremony? What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, man," Lucas butted in. "The campaign was way too short."

"Yeah!" agreed Will.

"It was ten hours!" Mike cried.

"But it doesn't make any sense!" Dustin argued.

"It makes sense!"

"Uh, no! What about the lost knight?"

"And those weird flowers in the cave!" added Will.

"And the proud princess!" added Lucas. "No way you wrote Christine in for a couple measly lines. Right, Chrissy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lucas. I just came for the snacks."

Christine was sitting on the couch, a book open in her lap. She'd been reading in the basement for most of the day, taking breaks to watch the boys and offer the occasional character voice. Even Nancy had come down to pitch in—a true Christmas miracle. The two of them had played cards on the floor until Steve showed up to join the Wheelers' for a traditional viewing of It's a Wonderful Life. It just proved how seriously he was taking his new title as "boyfriend."

They'd invited Christine to join them, but she wasn't that masochistic. Nancy had returned upstairs, and Christine had instead stepped into her role as the proud princess.

"I didn't write Princess Pallantia for Christine," Mike said in irritation. "She was side character to persuade Sir Lucas into going on the quest. It needed to be justified in the plot."

"Wow," Dustin snorted. "Lucas doing something just cause it's Christine."

"Just like real life," Will giggled.

"Shut the hell up!"

A riot probably would have broken out had it not been for a sound at the top of the stairs. The door to the basement swung open, and a few seconds later, Jonathan peeked his head into the room.

"Geez, what's that smell?" he asked. "Have you guys been playing games all day or just farting? Seriously, Christine, how do you even breathe down here?"

"Reluctantly," she replied without looking up from the page.

"It's probably Christine's fault anyway," scoffed Dustin, sweeping up his bag. "It never smells this bad, and she's the only new one around here."

"No way!" Christine said in protest. She jabbed a finger at Jonathan. "You know the rules. He who smelt it dealt it."

"He who rhymed it supplied it," Dustin shot back. "Or should I say she?"

The boys burst into giggles and applause, and Christine rolled her eyes. She grabbed her crutches from the end of the couch, and hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder.

"Fine. If you wanna be like that, guess I won't tell you what Mike and I planned for Princess Pallantia."

"CHRISTINE!" Mike screeched angrily, while the others nearly lost their minds. "I told you that was top secret information!"

"I knew it!" Dustin was screaming. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"

"We're definitely gonna have to save her," Lucas practically sang. "And when we do, I'm gonna roll for charismaaa!"

"I'm not gonna let you romance Pallantia," Mike groaned.

"Yeah, that's boring," said Will. "I bet it's something exciting! Like she's really an assassin!"

"With what weapon?" Dustin laughed. "Acidic farts?"

"I'll show you a damn weapon."

Christine raised her crutch, and with practiced precision, knocked his hat off his head. The boys jeered and laughed, and Dustin tried to wrestle the crutch out of her hands. Christine hopped on her good leg and whacked him in the knees with the second crutch.

"Alright, enough!" Jonathan called over the clamor. He handed Dustin back his hat, and forced Christine's weapon back to the ground. "You have been spending way too much time with them."

"Yeah, well it's them or you, so…"

Jonathan snorted, the jab rolling off his back. It was becoming the norm for them, trading half-hearted insults instead of having genuine conversations. They were still a far cry from being friends. Christine had yet to fully forgive Jonathan for the mysterious pictures. Even if she did, there was still the problem that she found him pretentious. At least the feeling was mutual. She didn't need Nancy's insight to know Jonathan thought she was petty and shallow with bad taste in guys. It was clear he didn't like her very much. But as Nancy had pointed out, that put Christine in the vast majority.

Still, they'd been through enough in the last month to make being enemies impossible. Jonathan had saved her best friend's life. Christine had risked her own to save his brother. They both spent too much time looking after middle schoolers, and had dangerous secrets they could never share with the rest of the world. So for now they were testing out the awkward line of acquaintances. They'd just have to take it from there.

"Ready to go?" Jonathan asked his brother, nodding toward the stairs.

"Yeah," said Will. "Just a sec. We have to do the thing."

"What thing?" Christine asked.

The boys ignored her, hurrying into a huddle so they could whisper to each other in private. Christine rolled her eyes, and went to share a commiserating look with Jonathan. But Jonathan wasn't there. He was already jogging up the stairs.

"Hey!" she called after him, affronted. "Are you still driving us home?"

"Yeah! Just let me know when you're done!"

Christine was about to yell that she was very much done, and didn't need to wait on the boys. But Dustin had grabbed her by the arm, tugging her adamantly toward the table.

"Come on! Move it! Sit down, Christine!"

Her crutches were seized from her as she was forced down into a chair. Each one of the boys ignored her mounting protests. Mike and Will resumed their seats at the table, while Lucas ran to rummage in his backpack. Dustin took the liberty of clapping his hands over her eyes.

"Dustin, knock it off." She tried to beat his arms away, but he just clamped his elbows over her ears and held on tight. "I'm serious, Dust! What's going on?"

"Hold on! Jesus Christ, just be patient! DM, some atmosphere?"

Across the table, Mike started a drumroll. Will joined in, and a few seconds later there was a large thud in the middle of the table.

"Ta da!" Lucas sang.

Dustin removed his hands. Sitting in the middle of the table was a box, about the size of a loaf of bread. It was poorly wrapped, not with actual wrapping paper, but with drawing paper all taped together. It only took one look to guess that Will had taken the liberty of drawing the pictures, and someone had stuck a blue bow on top.

"What is this?"

"It's a present," Lucas laughed at her. "You're supposed to open it."

"You got me a present?"

Christine was still hesitant to reach for it, but Dustin had begun his own drumroll on her back.

"Open it, open it, open it, open it…"

"Alright! I'm going, I'm going…"

She grabbed the package, trying to be as gentle as she could with the paper. Her jaw dropped the moment the first piece fell away. She could already see the Radio Shack label, the Realistic brand name, the picture on the side of the box…

The boys giggled as she started moving faster, pushing away the rest of the drawings so she could get to opening the box.

It was a radio. A Realistic TRC-214 supercomm, just like the boys had. Three channel, squelch control, range-boost side panels. She was itching to get to the schematics, but she was still stuck staring at it.

"Oh my God, this—this is crazy," she giggled, turning the walkie over in her hands. "This is gorgeous! Where did you get this?"

"We all chipped in," said Mike. "If you're gonna be part of the party, we need a way to communicate. You know, for emergencies."

Christine beamed, and then froze. The reality setting in, she shook her head frantically.

"Wait, wait, wait…you four bought this for me?"

"Duh," said Dustin, smacking her on the shoulder. "That's why we had you open it. How dumb are you?"

"No. No way, guys."

"Why not?" asked Will.

"Because this—this is way too expensive! I can't take something like this from you guys! How much did this even…?"

"Don't worry about it," Lucas assured her, and she glared at him.

"Of course I'm going to worry about it! You're all in middle school! Where did you even get this kind of cash?"

"Alright, so we may have had some financial assistance from your friends," Dustin admitted. "But don't go thanking Jonathan or Nancy or Steve Douchington for this. It was our idea."

Christine bit her lip. She stared down at the radio, a battle of wills raging inside her chest. She wasn't entirely comfortable accepting such a pricey gift from the party. The problem was, she wanted it. She really, really wanted it. It was a pretty grand gesture after all, and she didn't want to seem rude by refusing. And if Nancy and Steve had chipped in…

Her fingers delicately circled the antenna.

"Are you sure?" she asked one last time.

Will smiled brightly. "Definitely."

"Besides, none of us could use it anyway," said Dustin. "It's for rogue use only."

"Rogue?"

"Yeah," Mike confirmed. "It's your D&D class."

"No, I—I know what it is but…me? A rogue? Really?"

"Totally," gushed Lucas. "It makes so much sense!"

"Like how you lied to Mr. Clarke on the phone," Dustin supplied.

"Or how you found the other door to the Upside Down," said Will.

"And you hid Eleven at your house without anyone finding her," added Mike. "The bad men didn't find her, or your neighbors, or the cops."

"Your deception stats are off the charts," Dustin said proudly.

"But you stay on that channel!" Mike warned. "We preset it for you. You can't listen into our conversations or anything. This is a gesture of trust."

"No, I get it," Christine agreed, giving him a small salute. "Yes, sir, DM, sir."

"So you'll keep it?" Will asked, excitedly.

"Yeah," she said, allowing herself to grin again. "I mean it's insane, but…yeah. Thank you, guys. Seriously."

"We love you Christiiine!" Dustin sang in the most obnoxious voice imaginable. The he proceeded to jump on her from behind, smothering her in a hug.

"Okay, knock it off."

But Dustin's hug was clearly meant to be as annoying as it felt. Lucas collided with her on her left, then Will from her right, all of them doing their best to strangle the life out of her while they laughed.

Mike was above showing such affection, even to be a pest. He rolled his eyes, and looked from the radio in her hands to the corner. Christine followed his eyes to the blanket fort, still set up in memoriam. If she had to guess, it had been a huge part of the reason they'd bought the walkie. If anyone was going to reach her besides Mike, it was Christine.

She fought off the rest of the boys and grabbed her crutches. She wouldn't suffocate Mike with a hug, but she did ruffle his hair appreciatively. He slapped her hand away, but was hiding a smile.

"Alright," she sighed, turning back to her bag. "Say your goodbyes. Someone still needs to help me up these stairs."

Will carried her bag while Dustin carried her crutches, and Christine did her best to crawl her way up the staircase. They helped her wobble to her feet at the landing, and then they headed out together. They stopped in the kitchen to say goodbye to Mrs. Wheeler, busy making dessert for a family banquet the next night, then paused by the living room to wave goodbye to Nancy and Steve. They were cuddling on the couch in front of the TV. They probably would have gotten up if she'd asked, but Christine didn't want to bother them. Pointing to the sleeping Mr. Wheeler as an excuse, she just waved and kept walking.

Jonathan was waiting for them by the front door. He was also carrying a small box, wrapped much more carefully than Christine's had been. Christine hid a smile and averted her gaze.

They headed out to the car, Christine moving a little more slowly than the rest as she tried not to slip on the ice. She and Dustin slid into the back seat. He snapped at her as her crutches threatened to smack him in the face, mostly inadvertently this time, and Jonathan had to diffuse the argument again. But Will had other concerns.

"Can I open it?" he asked, pointing to the gift Jonathan had left on the center console.

"When we get home," said Jonathan starting up the car.

"Please?" Will begged.

Jonathan exhaled, and caught Christine's eye in the rearview mirror. She shrugged. "Hey, I've got mine already."

"Yeah," Dustin agreed. "I wanna see what it is!"

"Alright," Jonathan sighed, nodding to the box. "Sure. Go ahead."

Will grabbed for the gift, ripping off the paper much less delicately than Christine had. Inside was a small box, Pentax logo on the side, and picture of his new camera on the front.

The boys cooed over it, jabbering about all the cool pictures Jonathan would be able to take. Christine watched Jonathan carefully in his mirror for a reaction. He was shocked, mostly. But there was a definite smile on his face as he glanced between the box and the house.

He caught her eye in the mirror again, a questioning look in his eye. She raised her hands to feign innocence. She'd donated a few dollars to the cause, but had been sworn to secrecy. Personally, she wasn't sure how she felt about gifting Jonathan a new camera. But Nancy would be glad to hear he liked the gift. Steve would probably be ecstatic. It'd been his idea, after all.

Jonathan dropped them off on Dover Avenue, he and Christine sharing a stunted goodbye while the boys happily wished each other a Merry Christmas. Dustin took Christine's bag for her, and walked beside her up to her house. He waited until the Byers' beat up car had pulled away from the curb to say anything.

"Are you gonna start dating Jonathan?"

Christine nearly choked. "What?"

"I was just wondering," he said with a casual shrug. "Since Nancy's dating Steve again, and you guys spend so much time with us."

"Gross. I'd date you before I dated Jonathan."

"Ew! That's disgusting!"

"My point exactly."

"Then why are things so weird with you guys?" Dustin asked. "It's like you're both pining and constipated."

Christine sighed, fumbling with her house keys. She was not going to have this conversation with Dustin. She hated how insightful he was sometimes. Yes, she and Jonathan were dejected and pining. But not for each other.

"The only constipated one around here is you," Christine shot, swinging her front door open. "Ask me about it again, and I'm not bringing you your Christmas gift."

The threat wiped Dustin's brain clear of any previous conversation.

"Is it Mario Bros?" he demanded. "Did you get me Mario Bros for the Atari?"

"I don't know. Maybe I didn't get you anything."

She grinned and slammed the door in his face. She could still hear him cursing, and he banged a fist against the side of the house.

"Real mature, Christine! Merry Freaking Christmas!"

"Merry Freaking Christmas!" she called back. Laughing, she withdrew into the house.

To many, it would have looked like the Walcotts hadn't finished decorating. Moving around for so many years, they hadn't had the luxury of amassing a collection of ornaments and trinkets like some others. They had a basic tree with some obligatory baubles. Most of them were hanging lopsided, or were grouped unevenly, a side effect of her father being in charge of decorations while she was in her cast. They'd purchased one wreath for the door, hung the minimum amount of lights, and called it a day. Christine didn't mind in the slightest. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to look at Christmas lights the same way again.

She crept carefully past the living room. Like Mr. Wheeler, her father had fallen asleep in front of the television. She'd wake him up in a couple minutes so he could go to bed. They had to be over at the Hendersons' at nine o'clock tomorrow for Christmas breakfast, courtesy of Claudia, which meant getting up early to open their own presents first. But there was one thing Christine wanted to do before her dad woke up.

She snuck into the kitchen and popped two waffles into the toaster. While they cooked, she pulled out the box she had stashed in one of the cabinets under the counter. She'd already packed it, but she just wanted to double check. One pack of Pop-Tarts, one can of whipped cream, an apple and banana she was sure would go untouched, one pair of mittens and a card written out in her own loopy handwriting. Most of the note was dedicated to a simplistic explanation of what Christmas even was. Who knew if the scientists at the Lab had explained anything about Christmas or birthdays or any other holiday? She didn't think she'd done a very good job describing it, but she supposed it was the thought that counted.

The waffles cooked through, she added them to the package and taped the box shut. She headed down the hallway and out into the backyard, where a light coating of snow was already beginning to dust the grass.

Christine carefully stepped down the steps and limped her way over to the tree line. She had to go several feet into the trees, making sure the package was out of sight. She laid it amongst the fallen branches, and placed a flat rock on top to keep it in place. Pulling a Sharpie out of her back pocket, she drew two straight lines on the rock.

A cold wind blew through the yard, and she quickly retreated inside. She knew the chances of Eleven finding the package were low. She was a smart girl, and if she was out there, she'd know not to return to any of the party. Most likely, the package would be torn apart by a raccoon, or become an early Christmas present for Mews if she was feeling adventurous enough to wander into the next yard. But putting something, anything, out there for her to call her home made Christine feel a little more at peace. It was the thought that counted.

She stared out the back door, and after several minutes of staring, finally flipped the switch for the porch light. It flickered. And then went out.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading this story, and sticking with me on this ride. I hope you've enjoyed Christine's journey as much as I have. I have plans for Seasons 2 and 3, but there are some other stories that are going to take precedence.

First and foremost, my Supernatural fanfiction Gospel of the Chosen is officially publishing again! Act II will finish up the plot of Season 4, as Sam, Dean and Kat deal with Lilith and the remaining seals.

Secondly, if everything goes according to plan, I should start publishing a brand new story this summer...for Harry Potter! It's been a long time coming, but I'm finally happy with the material I've got. Provenance should come out around July, but keep an eye on my account for more details. And if you're ever interested in visual aids or edits of my stories, you can find more about my writing on my Tumblr page, thetenthdoctorscompanion.

Again, thank you so much for reading, and for all your reviews. Let me know what you thought of this story, and what you're excited to see next.

-Brittney