a letter from hawkins

✧

"Do you blame yourself?"

Doctor Cordelia Monroe was a kind woman. She wore bright colours to every appointment and her ruby red glasses only added to her "fun mom" appearance. She held a clipboard in her arms, and the diamond of her wedding ring glimmered from the sunlight bleeding into the room from the windows. Every little detail in her face held the tone she spoke in; pitiful, sorry and curious.

Ruth Newby wanted to roll her eyes, but only because of the irony of the question. She seemed to blame herself for a lot of things. Her mother's death; Ava Fleur's death; framing Ace Fleur for the murder of his sister; her dad's death; Sky Butcher getting flayed. She blamed herself for not being strong enough for any of those situations. Rue should've been stronger, and she should've fought better.

Ruth winced as she thought about it. She twisted and tugged on the rings on her fingers as she swallowed thickly and leaned back on the chair. "What are you talking about?"

Rue felt the same way she did two years before, hiding behind the high walls she'd formed after moving to Hawkins. The barriers she built eventually brought down after meeting her new family, friends, and people she loved with her whole being. All of it was taken down just for her to rebuild them after having her heart shattered.

She sought to hide behind it once more, and she tried to rebuild those walls, bigger and stronger than before. And Rue made them out of rage and betrayal.

This time, however, they were cracking and on the verge of collapsing.

Something else was trying to break in and view her fragile state through the walls. Something was pounding on the walls, attempting to knock them down since it knew she couldn't hold them up for long. They will ultimately break.

Rue will crack soon enough.

There was no response, and she asked again, "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's quite common in this situation for a patient to feel some kind of . . . guilt."

Rue squinted at her therapist, "What situation?"

"The accident."

She stiffened for a moment. Rue thought about her father, then about the mall. She had even considered thinking about Ava again. Rue felt her shoulders relax after realizing Dr. Monroe had no clue about the truth of half of those accidents. "Which accident?"

"The one I have been asking about for two weeks, Rue," Cordelia told her, a disappointed look on her face. "You have to start talking about it. You asked Joyce to get you here, and that's great. You took that first step on your own. But Joyce isn't paying for these sessions just for you to sit here and zone out."

Five months. Rue had been coming in and out of this room for five months. And yeah, it's helped a lot but Rue still hasn't felt like her old self. She felt so different. So out of place. And she doubts that digging back into her past will help her find herself again. It will only push her into a deeper hole.

She knew she had changed a lot within those months. Rue had tried to fit into the looks in the magazines, trying to find herself within makeup and clothes and puffy hair. For a time she had dyed her hair darker, only for her to return to the natural amber with pink coloured strands.

However, it wasn't just her looks that she had changed. Rue had been feeling so angry lately. She felt lost.

Rue tilted her head, her gold necklace given by Mike Wheeler all those years ago sitting prettily on her chest. She was trying to keep her smile convincing, but her red nose told otherwise.

"I don't like talking about it. . . it's sad," she admits.

"All right," Dr. Monroe sighed. She put down her clipboard and pen. "Let's not talk about it then. Let's talk about how it makes you feel. You said it makes you sad. What else?"

Rue twirled the wire of her headphones around her fingers. "Sometimes. . . sometimes I remind myself of the accident. . . so I can feel something."

"Feel something?"

"I've been having a hard time. . ." Rue paused. When she realized what she was about to say, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. She did, without a doubt, feel stupid. "I've been having a hard time being emotional. Expressing my emotions. I guess, thinking about it makes me feel less monotone."

Rue pulled on the rings on her fingers, twisting them and pushing them back down. She trapped her lower lip between her teeth, sucking on it until it bruised. "But it isn't just the accident with my mom," she added, and Cordelia raised a brow in interest.

"Is this about your dad, too?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Rue shrugged and turned to look out the window.

"Can I tell you what I think?"

I already know what you think, Rue wanted to Say, but she bit her tongue and muttered, "Sure, whatever."

"All right. I think that you haven't gotten the chance to mourn for your dad as you did for your mom. And I think you know that, so that's the guilt that's truly eating you up. Not the I should've saved them or I should've done that, bullcrap. Rue, what happened to your parents wasn't something you could stop, and you need to stop blaming yourself for it. You are suffering with something called Survivor's Guilt. It's something that happens when someone goes through a traumatic event and survived it when others didn't. I know this can't be easy for you. I don't know what you have witnessed, but I know that if you put the effort, you can move on."

Rue stayed silent as she continued to look out the window. She spotted the Surfer Boy's Pizza van parked at the entrance of the building. Jonathan and his friend Argyle stumbled out of the vehicle, both of them chatting up a storm. Rue internally cringed and turned back to her therapist, who stared at her expectantly.

"Do you still want the anti-depressants? They'll help you lose that monotonousness you're struggling with."

"Sure, I guess," Rue began to stand while Dr. Monroe began to write the prescription. Rue pulled her headphones over her ears and clicked the play button on her Walkman strapped to her hip.

Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield blasted in her ears as she took the paper from Dr. Monroe. "Thanks, Cordelia."

"Have a good spring break, Rue! I'll see you after the week."

Rue hummed as a reply, throwing her school bag over her shoulder and pushing the door open. And she could hear Jonathan and Argyle giggling down the hall through the music.

And she's watching him with those eyes

And she's loving him with that body, I just know it

Yeah, and he's holding her in his arms late, late at night

You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl

"Ruby!" Argyle cheered, throwing both his arms in the air as she walked up to them, and once Rue had been close enough, the older boy wrapped his arms around her, embracing the girl into a tight hug that left her winded.

Rue grimaced at the stench Argyle carried with him, and she then looked at Jonathan. He seemed better collected than his friend as he leaned on the wall lazily but then again, his eyes were red to the brim. God knows how in touch with reality either of them was.

When Jonathan caught Rue's glance, he raised his eyebrows in question, "What?"

"You guys seriously couldn't wait to pick me up to... de-stress?" She asked, and Jonathan led the way for them back into the parking lot.

The hot California air blew at their faces as Rue threw out the prescription papers in the nearest garbage can. She pulled open the back doors to the van, half expecting to find Will and El waiting for her there. Rue wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed to find it empty, but she got into the vehicle anyways.

When Argyle missed the key slot twice, Rue poked her head between the two front seats, "How high are you?"

"I'm good, how are you?" Jonathan smiled, tapping his finger on the tip of Rue's tan nose.

"Don't worry about it, Ruby," Argyle slurred, finally pushing the keys in and starting the engine, "...Trust."

"Yeah, right," Rue said slowly, narrowing her eyes to slits as she sat back down.

I'll play along with the charade

There doesn't seem to be a reason to change

You know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute

I wanna tell her that I love her

About halfway home, Jonathan spun around. His eyes were wide as he pointed at Rue with a big smile, "There is a letter! At home. It's not for me though, it's not college... but! It's for you! From... from Hawkins."

Rue's eyes flickered to Jonathan's face. Her heart dropped a second later. Had Max Mayfield finally written back after the awful phone call they had three months ago? Had she replied to one of the too-many-to-count, embarrassing letters Rue never stopped sending until three weeks ago?

Rue cleared her throat. "Cool." She said when it wasn't cool. Rue had begun to sweat and fidget. She felt all sorts of different things all at once, anger, dread, excitement. All because, finally, finally Max Mayfield had stopped leaving her in the dark. Finally, Rue could stop being angry at nothing.

Rue jumped out of the van the second it stopped. She unlocked the front door and hurried to the living room, ignoring El's warm welcome home and Will's startled glance when she ran past him. Rue only slowed down when she neared Joyce's desk, where she spotted a brown envelope with stamps and her name on it. As she neared it, Rue felt as if she was about to pass out from how much her stomach twisted and her heart wouldn't stop beating.

Eventually, the disappointment felt much much worse once Rue picked up the envelope and realized it wasn't Max's handwriting.

A bitter tinge grew in her mouth as a rageful fire ignited in her stomach. Rue cursed at herself for thinking it could have been Max. And she nearly crumpled the letter in her hands as the disappointment finally sank in.

Jonathan had finally entered the house and dropped his bag. He slowly walked towards Rue and frowned, "It's from Lucas. Did I not mention that?"

"No," Rue said stiffly. "You didn't."

"Sorry," He sighed, and he pats her shoulder before he spun on his heel and left.

Anger tears formed in Rue's eyes. She wished she could have just forgotten all about Max Mayfield, she wished she could give up on her because the longer she lingered in Rue's mind, the more it hurt. Max seemed to have forgotten all about Rue, so why couldn't she?

"Hey, Rue?" Will Byer's voice had torn her out of her thoughts. "El is thinking about taking Mike to Rink-o-Mania when he comes, but I told her it won't work because Alex is coming too and he doesn't know how to skate. Do you have any other idea-"

"Bring Alex anyway," Rue tells him, "Teach him how to skate, it can be your date or whatever."

"It's not a date," Will quickly sputters.

"Yeah, right," Rue scoffed, making her way up the stairs, "Because Alex is coming across the country because of friendship."

Will followed her, "He's coming to see you too," he argues, "And Max is coming too, isn't she?"

Rue stops abruptly before her bedroom and Will nearly runs into her. "She's not."

"What?"

"Max isn't coming to California."

"...Why not? I thought-"

"You thought wrong," She says, and before Will could say another word, Rue had shut the door to her bedroom, then locked it for good measure.

Rue stays with her back to the door. She held her breath, letting her backpack slowly fall from her shoulders. The bag hit the floor with a quiet thud and Rue had to swallow the lump in her throat. That had possibly been the most she had spoken of Max in weeks. But the red-haired girl never left her mind and Rue felt utterly pathetic.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Rue jumped onto her bed. She didn't move for a while. Rue thought about her homework, something she usually drowns herself with as a distraction but she didn't have the strength to pick up her bag. Instead she turned over on her bed to lay on her back and opened the letter from Lucas Sinclair.

It was funny how it was Max's ex-boyfriend who wrote to Rue, keeping her up to tabs with everything going on back in Hawkins as she did the same for him in Lenora Hills.

His letter spoke about his last basketball game, and how they had a pep rally coming up soon which led to the championship game. There were brief mentions of the Hellfire Club, which took three letters from Lucas for Rue to understand that it was a D&D club. And a delightful surprise to spot Dustin, Nancy and Steve's handwriting near the end, asking if Rue could make them another mixtape as soon as possible.

Strangely enough, Lucas' letters were something Rue looked forward to. She got up in search of a pen and paper to write back to him and wish him luck for the championships.

Rue spent the rest of the sundown writing and listening to music. El would occasionally join her in her room, asking her for help with her English homework.

After dinner, Rue helped Joyce clean up and wash the dishes with Will. Then she got up to head into Jonathan's room. She could hear music from the other side of the door and knock. After he didn't answer twice, Rue decided to push open the door and let herself inside.

A thin cloud of smoke blew out of the room. "Du- dude!" Jonathan quickly jumped up from his bed, running across the room to shut his door.

Argyle laughed from where he was, sprawled on the floor of Jonathan's bedroom as he stared at the ceiling. "Ruby, my favourite Byers. To what is the pleasure of your presence, babe?"

Rue glanced at Jonathan from the corner of her eye before sitting next to Argyle on the floor. She pursed her lips and hesitated, watching Argyle and Jonathan share a blunt. "Can I try?"

Jonathan froze mid passing the blunt to Argyle, while the other boy burst out laughing once again. "Damn!" He slowly sat up, hair a tangled mess as he took the blunt from his friend. "Sure, why not?"

"Hey, wait!" Jonathan cuts in, sliding from his bed to the floor with them. "Rue, you can't smoke this."

"You do it all the time."

"Okay?" Jonathan stumbled through his words, taking the blunt from Argyle's hands before he passed it to his little sister. "Just because I do it, doesn't mean you should too."

"It's just weed," Rue reminds him. "It's supposed to relax you."

"Rue..."

"I'm tense, Johnny!" She wines, "It's either this or the Xanax my therapist keeps giving me. Which, may I add, is probably six times more harmful."

"That's probably not true," Jonathan shakes his head.

"Come on, I've done it before."

He pauses and glances at Rue. "What?"

Rue's mouth hangs open once she caught her own slip-up. "I mean-"

"Wait. What do you mean you've done it before?"

"It means she's smoked the earth before, man." Argyle scoffs, "Catch up."

"It was at a party a few weeks ago," Rue explains, "Ember found a blunt in the house and we smoked a bit in the bathroom. That's all."

Jonathan blinked slowly, "I thought you hated Ember? That she's snobby and a... nasty bitch."

"...I do." Rue nods, "she is."

"Then why would you smoke with her?"

"Yeah, Ruby. You share a blunt with people you love, people who are cool. Don't waste a fun time with someone you'll end up fighting with."

"I'll end up fighting with you guys if you won't let me take a hit."

Jonathan hesitated for a long minute. He eventually handed her the blunt, and Rue took it gratefully. She took it between her fingers and trapped it between her lips. Rue drew in until her mouth filled with smoke.

"Are you lyin' about doing this only once, Ruby?" Argyle asked as Rue slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

The girl puffed out a laugh and handed him the blunt. She swayed her head from side to side as if toying with him. Rue thinks of one thing, but says the other, "Friends don't lie," she shrugs, a small smile tugging at her lips.

: soo this is what rue has been up to in cali 🤔 going to therapy, keeping good marks, parties and smoking weed in someone's bathroom with the girl she supposedly hates, must be nice. i wish that was me.

max and rue though 💔 someone asked for angst so... here we are.

rue and lucas's friendship has always been something so special to me.

"jessie's girl" is the first song we see rue listen to... hmm 🤭🤭