nothing cuts like a mother

✧

There were parts of herself Rue didn't understand. She didn't know how her brain worked or why her body reacted in certain ways. She didn't understand why her thoughts shifted so quickly, or why she'd feel hopeless one second and fine the next.

Rue was sick and twisted in more than one way. She knew she was a freak, and she knew she had a mental problem. She had suspected that she had not been born in the same way as many other babies, or that she had been dropped as a baby too many times to count. Rue knew she had many things wrong with her and if she started counting them off, it would be a never-ending list.

Her mother's behaviour, while she was a child, didn't help the alienating feeling. Rue's mother had always treated Rue as if she were glass, a ticking time bomb ready to explode within any second. She handled her daughter as if she were an unknown species. As if she were a science project to study.

There were times when she was younger when Rue believed her condition was the reason her dad left when she was six.

It was a relief to realize that his leaving hadn't had anything to do with his daughter, but rather the woman he'd once called his wife.

Emilia Davis.

But he never loved her, not really. Whatever love there was, it wasn't real. None of it was. The love he had harboured was created by the woman, who placed the idea of love into his mind to keep him wrapped around her finger. Bob never loved Emilia, not truly. But he did love Rue, and he also loved Joyce Byers and her sons, and that was real love.

Ever since her father left, Rue had never felt what real love was. Only the manufactured love produced by the woman who birthed her, twisting her daughter's mind to love and cherish her because no one else would.

And the rare nights, she would cry at her feet. She'd ask her to stroke her cheek, to kiss her forehead. Please look after me, mom. Please stop yelling at me. Please tell me what to do right. Please, mom, will you ever love me like other moms love their daughters?

Mom, please. Love me as I love you.

She'd be a child asking her mother to love her.

But what is a mother?

Should she kiss you goodnight?

Do mothers do that?

Even when she's gone, she's not really gone. Emilia was everywhere Rue went. Her face was engraved in memory to the last freckle and speck in her eyes. And the smell of her perfume and the sound of her voice. And the softness of her skin. And how her eyes would light up when she smiled. It hurts. Because she was gone, she wasn't there. She was only a memory now.

She had never loved her daughter, and the daughter loved her nevertheless.

It was the complex type of love a child couldn't understand. Emilia Davis was a person Rue was told to love because she was her mother, but there was no other real reason to love her. Emilia had hurt her. Mothers are not meant to hurt their daughters. And yet.

And yet.

There's still the child in her that loves her mom.

And at the same time, Rue never wanted to be like her mom.

She refused to use her powers on people because of it.

And she never wanted to hurt people the way she had.

But there she is, standing at the center of a deserted room with mutilated bodies at her feet.

Rue was everything her mother was and worse.

Hot tears had pricked her eyes the second she stepped into the household on the Wheelers once again. Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair's mothers had run up to their sons, wrapping them into their arms, cupping their cheeks, kissing their faces, and stroking their heads as they frowned at them in worry once they saw their bleeding wounds and bruised skin.

Rue stood there watching it all occur, her stomach twisting with furious jealousy because she wished to be held that way. A part of her hoped Joyce Byers had been there, and Rue would have preferred to hear her yell at her after being chased by officers if it meant she knew someone was concerned about her. That someone cared. Joyce Byers seemed to be the only person who could love Rue like a mother should, even though Rue wasn't her daughter.

Sheriff Powell shut the front door behind him once everyone had walked into the house, and he immediately led the teenagers into the living room with officer Callahan.

The living room of the Wheelers housed about half of Hawkins. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the Hendersons, Sinclairs, and Wheelers were all sitting there, as was practically the whole police department.

The children sat on a couch, wincing as their scraped skin and bleeding cuts shifted and hurt with every movement. Mrs. Wheeler had also winced as she saw the grime, blood, and dirt-covered teenagers crammed together on her beautiful, expensive, new, clean couch.

Chief Powell grabbed a chair from the kitchen and placed it right before the couch. He sat down as Callahan stood next to him, his arms crossed over his chest. Chief Powell sighed, folding his hands on his lap. "And what exactly were you all doing at the lake?"

Dustin was hugging onto a cushion and nearly flinched once he heard the question. He glanced at Lucas first, then at Max, then at Rue, and then at Lucas again. His mouth opened and closed as he shrunk under the burning gaze of the cops and his mother. "Uh... it's comp-"

Lucas locked his gaze on his younger sister, Erica, who was staring at him keenly with her hands on her hips and a snarky look in her eyes. He then avoided all eye contact with her as he pinched the skin on his hands. "We... were..."

Max curled the cord of her headphones around her fingers, hoping the two grumbling boys would see her knowing look and follow her lead, but they had been looking all over the place. She then casts a helpless glance towards Rue, who is seated by Lucas' side, but nearly scoffs when she notices her staring blankly at her mud-covered shoes. Max turned to face the Chief, her voice strong and confident. "We were... we were just going for a walk."

"A walk?" Officer Callahan scoffed in disbelief, "At 9:00 p.m.?"

"To the lake," Dustin squeaked, his voice growing a higher pitch with every sentence. "We were gonna take a little swim.... Little night swim."

"Dusty!" His mother was pale, "Someone was just murdered there."

Rue had finally looked up from the ground at that point. Her skin beneath her clothes was aching and felt like it was on fire, and the cut on her cheek numbed the side of her face. She wondered if the cops had even looked in the Creel's old house, and what would happen if they discovered the room. Will they continue to blame Eddie? Would they refer to it as the Devil's lair?

Rue glanced at Lucas, who had swallowed thickly at Dustin's mother's remark, and he even dared to pick at the gash on his forehead.

Rue had tuned out the rest of the world after understanding her mind was racing faster than the interrogation before her.

"Yeah, we..." Dustin was speaking, on the end of a long excuse to his mother's remark, probably. God, Dustin was a terrible liar. Instead of listening, Rue had been pulling on the torn fabric of her pants, staring at the burning graze on her knee as a movie she had watched with El about a week ago passed through her memories. "We didn't realize that until we got there."

"That's why we didn't swim," Lucas added quickly.

Officer Callahan shook his head, "Why would you even be swimming in a dark lake, at night?"

"We were gonna go skinny dipping," Rue said without thinking.

Her eyes widened once she realized what she had said, and her face burned up with embarrassment once all heads had snapped to look at her. She even felt Lucas kick her leg at her abrupt excuse. Rue tried to play it off, her voice breathless "Because... because that's what teenagers do. In the movies."

Lucas scowls, "Rue..."

"Sorry."

Rue decided she wouldn't speak anymore.

"And Nancy?" Mrs. Wheeler starts and slowly tears her eyes away from Rue to look at Dustin, "...was she with you at this night swim?"

"No," Max said.

At the same time, Dustin nodded confidently. "Yes! Oh..."

He glanced at Max, startled as the girl sent him a pointed glare" Uh..."

"We're not sure..." Lucas muttered.

"She was there," Dustin tried, "Then... she left. It's all a little confusing."

"That's when you guys came!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Right!" Max nodded and followed his lead, "Then they dared me to say what I said. About the killer."

"Oh, yeah," Lucas lied, a fake laugh bubbling from his stomach as he glanced at Dustin, who was also laughing. Dustin's laugh seemed terrified and nervous compared to Lucas' childish one, and the sight of it made Rue snort from her seat.

"You're lucky you didn't get shot," Ted Wheeler said suddenly, making the kids stop their laughter abruptly. They froze and turned to the man, their faces dropping at his statement.

Lucas shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked away as Chief Powell began to talk again. "Have you had any contact with Eddie?" He asks.

"That psycho... freak killer?" Dustin exclaimed. His lisp made his words almost ununderstandable. "God, no! Nope. Absolutely not!"

The Chief and Officer Callahan shared a tired, knowing glance once Max and Lucas had jumped in with Dustin before Chief Powell raised his hand to stop them from talking. He glanced at Rue, "You, the quiet one."

"Hm?" She mumbled on instinct, tearing her eyes away from Erica Sinclair's burning and intimidating gaze. "Me?"

"Yes. You." Chief Powell sighed tiredly, and he leaned back in his seat. "Do you have any contact with Eddie?"

There was a beat of silence where Rue grimaced and tilted her head, confused. "...Who's Eddie?"

"Munson. Edward Munson."

Rue looked around the room, clueless. It didn't help that Lucas had been chuckling quietly at her side while Dustin stared at her in disbelief. "I don't know..." she shrugged, "I got here, like, three days ago."

"What about Richard Maguire? Ricky?"

"...What about Richard?"

"He's best friends with Eddie Munson. Ricky's been missing all week."

"That sucks, do his parent's know?"

"Yes, his parents are aware." Chief sighed, "I'm asking if you know where he could be."

"Okay, I've heard of Richard, because he's the older brother of a friend of mine, but I don't know who Eddie is. Like, his name is ringing in my head but I don't know. Do you have a picture? Maybe a face to the name could help."

"Cut the bull!" Erica Sinclair suddenly exclaimed. She stepped forwards from where she had been leaning against a doorway, dropping her arms from having them crossed over her bright pink dress with blue and white hearts and stars all over them.

Her parents immediately turned to scowl at her, "Erica."

"I mean, you realize they're all lying." She said, "The whole couch is on fire! The skinny dipping, Nancy, the dare. It's all lies!"

"Erica!" Her parents scoffed again.

"Just the facts!"

Dustin's mother turned to the group on the couch again, and there were tears in her eyes, "Are you lying to these policemen, Dusty?"

"No!" Dustin screeched.

"Lying to the cops is a crime, son," Mr. Sinclair stated.

Lucas's eyes widened, "I'm not lying!"

Erica rolled her eyes, "The fire is consuming us."

"Threaten them with a little jail time," Mr. Wheeler suggested, "Maybe that'll loosen their lips."

Dustin glared at him, "Okay-"

"You wanna send our kids to jail?" Mrs. Sinclair raised her brows challengingly at the man.

"We need to take this seriously," He shrugged.

"He didn't mean it like that," Mrs. Wheeler defended him.

Then, there was an overlapping argument between the parents. And then there was Erica, who still yelled at the four on the couch, calling them a liar and taunting them with the phrase, "Liar, liar, pants on fire!" Lucas and Dustin were shouting, Dustin's voice cracking after every other word as he tried to defend himself and prove he was not lying to Erica.

Rue looked away from the arguments when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and she leaned her head back and turned to spot Max raising her brows at her, a look in her eyes that said, "Can you believe this?"

"SHUT UP!" Chief Powell had shouted, and he stood up from his seat. Everyone in the room had fallen silent after his exclamation, and he rubbed his hand on his head, obviously tired of the long night he had to deal with. He sighed, frowning, "We're going to try a more civilized approach. One at a time." He told the group of parents, who then nodded in agreement. Powell turned to the teenagers on the couch and pointed at Max. "You first."

"Wait, what?" Max scoffed, "Why me?"

The chief doesn't answer her, "Follow me."

"I'm not even in the Hellfire club!" Max defended herself.

Officer Callahan stepped forward. He pushed his glasses higher up his nose before placing his hand on his hip. "Do I need to cuff you?" He raised his brow, stunning Max into a confused silence. She glanced at Rue before rolling her eyes. "Up. Chop-chop!"

"Yeah, whatever," Max grumbled, stomping her way down the hallway and following where Chief Powell had gone, leaving behind muddy footprints all over Mrs. Wheeler's carpet.

To be in the face of death tends to tear away the rest of your fears. You begin to believe that nothing can scare you anymore. How could it be? How could you be afraid of anything you used to be after experiencing something far worse?

For kids like Dustin, Lucas and Rue, the law had no longer been something they feared. Kids like them trembled at the sound of a squirrel in bushes because a squirrel in a bush could also be a blood-thirsty monster. Kids like them didn't mind facing the fury of their parents or whatever consequences they could suffer with the police. Those things were obstacles they'd have to work around in their lives.

While Max was integrated on her own, Lucas and Rue waited for Dustin to return from the bathroom after he claimed he would try to call Nancy to let them know they'd gotten arrested after being left alone for five minutes.

"Never have I ever eaten an entire pizza by myself," Lucas and Rue leaned over the kitchen's center island. The two were across from each other and held up their hands for a game of Never Have I Ever as a way to waste time as they waited for Dustin.

Rue's jaw dropped as she watched Lucas put a finger down, and she giggled, leaning closer, "What? No way! An entire pizza?"

Lucas shot her a pointed look, "You're trying to tell me you haven't?"

"I barely get two slices at all. Will and Jonathan eat them all before I have the chance." She shrugged. The chatter from the living room continued, her friend's families asking the officers a buttload of questions, and they even wondered if they should get lawyers. Rue cleared her throat and nodded at Lucas, "Your turn."

"Okay..." He hummed, shifting around in his spot. Lucas stared at the room and puffed out his cheeks as he thought. So far, he had three fingers down, and Rue had two. "Uhm... never have I ever gotten a hangover."

They both stared at each other challengingly before they slowly put down a finger and burst into hushed surprised giggles. Their eyes widened as they pointed at each other in shock, "Lucas Sinclair!" Rue teased, her voice dropped into a whisper as a wide smile painted her face, "You drink?"

Lucas had a guilty smile, "Not always. Only at the parties after my basketball games." He shrugged, "And you? You're apparently a party animal."

Rue pursed her lips, "I don't think I can enjoy them without a drink or two. Everyone there are a bunch of assholes."

"Tell me about it," Lucas nodded. "I wish you were there. At the parties I've been at. I would have totally enjoyed them more with you."

Rue grinned, and she didn't bother trying to hide it. There was no denying that Lucas Sinclair made her happy, he was forgiving and compassionate, and he always pointed out whenever Rue was being an ass. He was different from Will, but he was her best friend nonetheless. When he laughs, it reminds her of summer afternoons, biking down the street with the warm sun against her skin and the birds singing from the trees.

She rolled her eyes, sliding her elbows away from him on the marble. "You're such an emotional sap." She told him, her words reeking of hypocrisy, "But yeah, I guess I would've enjoyed them with you too."

"You know you love me, Newby."

"Mhm, keep telling yourself that, Sinclair."

Dustin Henderson had returned to the kitchen, grabbing their attention as they turned to him. He put his walkie-talkie down on the counter between Rue and Lucas and leaned on the island, sighing.

"Anything?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

Lucas and Rue shared a knowing glance. If no one from the older group had been responding to their calls, it meant that something must have happened to them because Nancy was too anxious to leave them hanging with nothing.

"You don't think they went through...?"

"Through Watergate?" Dustin echoed. "Without us? Without a plan? Without Rue? Without weapons?" He scoffed, "They wouldn't be that stupid."

"I beg to differ," Rue tapped her fingers on the counter and she shook her head. There was a ghost of a frown on her lips as she imagined the group had betrayed their promise and took off to face Vecna without saying anything. "Maybe not Dick or Nance, but Steve, Robin and Eddie seem pretty stupid. They don't have much going on up there."

"Richie says Eddie's too much of a coward. And Robin would do the opposite of what Steve does," Lucas stated, "So, it's really just Steve."

"Right."

"They must just be laying low 'cause the law got to us," Dustin theorized.

"The law?" A new voice had entered the room. The three teenagers looked up and turned to find Erica Sinclair approaching them from behind the staircase. There was a Minute Maid juice box in her hands as she raised her brows at them in disbelief, and she leaned on the counter at Rue's side with a snarky smirk. "What is this, Gunsmoke? The Stupid, the Idiot and the Ugly? Should I round up the posse? Saddle the horses?"