xv. forget me nots

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THE DEPRESSIVE AUNT, THE COMATOSE MOTHER, AND THE SCHIZOPHRENIC SON

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in which caleb moore visits the home of jacob ives

forget me nots | post-the gate

〖 baby please forget me not, i want you to remember 〗

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baby please forget me not, i want you to remember

One Month Later

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CALEB SIGHED as the snow-ridden rural pastures of southern Indiana flitted by the passenger side window of the old Chevvy truck, glancing back curiously at a familiar run-down building just barely scraping past the thick boscage of bare trees keeping it hidden from prying eyes - the abandoned department store he had been living in before the Hawkins Police Department found him, he supposed.

He rested his head against the cool glass, tugging at his bottom lip anxiously, leg jostling in time with the sharp twang of the Stealers Wheel track coming from the radio as he felt a knowing gaze on the side of his head and inwardly grumbled at how obvious his unease must have been.

"They're gonna love ya, kid." Hopper assured him, reaching out to pat his shoulder before thinking better of it and playing it off for turning up the radio instead.

"'Course they will, I'm irresistible." Caleb forced a smirk, earning a nudge to the side of the head from his companion. "Ow, asshole. Are you sure Jane's okay with not coming with us? I don't want to leave her home all by herself."

El had grown sick of their frostbite-inducing meetings in the clearing of the woods and told Hopper about the situation with her brother's foster parents a little two weeks ago - Caleb had been furious with her for all of three days before relenting, knowing that it was going to be found out eventually as Hopper had been asking questions about Caleb living with Steve ever since he visited the Moore house to drop off his prescription only to be caught by a redheaded girl who ran across the street to inform him of the boy's new residence before he could ring the doorbell.

Caleb had given no explanation when the man came to the Harrington home's front door, offering little more than a shrug as he accepted the paper bag from him and muttered a quick goodbye before closing the door in his face and returning to the kitchen, where Steve was attempting some kind of vegetarian casserole because apparently a diet consisting of take-out and microwave dinners was not suitable for a 'growing boy'.

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