"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Dr. Sam Owens." The man extended his hand. "May we talk?"
"Dr. Sam Owens?" Steve shook his hand. "Have we met?"
"Oh, no. I don't believe so," Owens shook his head, keeping a friendly smile. "I came to speak with you about the events from November 6th to 12th."
Steve's eyes widened, and he quickly stepped aside, gesturing for the man to come in. "O-of course. Please, come in." Owens nodded and stepped inside. Steve followed him in, fidgeting with his hands.
"This is a lovely house," the man commented, his eyes scanning the living room. "Are your parents home?"
'As if you guys didn't already know.'
"N-no, sir. They're away on a work trip," Steve replied, his voice slightly shaky.
"Just Owens, please," Owens said in a friendly tone, turning to face him. "Where can we talk? I don't have any preference."
"Oh, yeah, right this way." Steve stepped ahead, guiding him to the dining room, where a large table dominated the space. "Is this okay?"
"Perfect," Owens replied, placing the black briefcase on the table and sitting in one of the chairs.
Steve remained standing, hesitant. "W-would you like something to drink?"
Owens nodded. "Water, if it's not too much trouble."
"No problem." Steve headed to the kitchen with quick steps. As soon as he was out of Owens' sight, the nervous act dropped. He took a deep breath and massaged his left shoulder. 'Dr. Sam Owens... I don't recognize him. He doesn't seem malicious either. Just nervous and tense, but that could be because of the negotiation.' Grabbing two glasses from the cabinet, he filled them with water from the pitcher in the fridge. 'Should I change my approach? Maybe instead of the "nervous good-hearted kid", I should go with "spoiled rich boy"?... No. Better keep it as is.'
Back in the dining room, Steve found Owens in the same position, though now with the briefcase open. Some papers were spread across the table, along with a silver pen glinting under the chandelier light.
"Here you go," Steve said, placing the glasses on the table and sitting in the opposite chair. He crossed his arms, trying to look as anxious as possible.
"Thank you," Owens took the glass and drank a long sip, nearly emptying half of it. "Things have been so hectic lately I sometimes forget I need to refuel."
Steve thought it must've been some kind of joke, so he let out a small laugh. "I'm like that too when there's too much going on. My basketball coach always says the only reason I don't forget my head is because it's attached to my body."
Owens chuckled, pointing his glass in Steve's direction. "You're on the team?"
"Yes, for a few years now," Steve replied, making it seem like he was relaxing thanks to the conversation.
"Oh, I was too, back in my day." Owens said with a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Good times that won't come back. Make the most of it while you can, son."
"Y-yeah, I will."
"Well then..." Owens straightened up in his chair, his tone turning more serious. "Shall we talk about the reason for my visit?"
"Sure! What do you need?" The words came out quickly from Steve.
Owens gave a sympathetic smile. "First, I want to make it clear that you're not in any kind of danger, and you're not in trouble. My job here is just to make sure everything stays under control. That's why I need you to understand that the things you saw and learned are highly sensitive and could cause a lot of damage if they were to spread."
"I-I completely understand, sir," Steve said, puffing out his chest a little.
"Good." Owens seemed pleased, leaning forward slightly. "So, why don't we start with you telling me what you experienced? From your point of view, of course. I just want to understand how you got involved in all of this."
"Alright." Steve placed a hand on his chin, falling silent for a few seconds, seeming to think deeply. "I think it all started when I threw a party here at my house. Nothing major, I just invited two friends and Nancy—"
"Nancy Wheeler?" Owens interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, that's her." Steve confirmed with a nod. "Nancy brought a friend, Barbara Holland. The night was... normal, you know? We swam in the pool, talked, had a few beers—" He suddenly stopped, his face going pale.
"No judgment," Owens said quickly, raising a hand. "I broke a few rules myself at your age."
Steve sighed, relaxing a bit. "After a while, we all went inside to dry off. Except for Barbara. She stayed outside, alone. The next day, Nancy came to me really worried, saying Barbara had disappeared. I... I didn't take it seriously." He looked down, guilt heavy in his voice. "If I had paid attention, maybe…"
"Don't think like that, son," Owens said, his voice gentle, almost fatherly. "There was nothing you could've done. Unfortunately, the situation got out of everyone's control, and tragedies happened."
Steve gave a weak nod before continuing, "The next day, I got into a fight with Jonathan Byers after doing something horrible to Nancy, which I'd rather not even talk about. All because of a complete misunderstanding on my part." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "That's why I was at the Byers' house that night. I wanted to apologize to Nancy. I really like her, you know? I didn't want to lose her because I was being a jerk. When I got there, the lights were flickering nonstop."
"The lights were flickering, huh?"
"Yes…" Steve frowned, as if trying to remember the details. "Then I heard a scream. It was a woman. I immediately thought it was Nancy, that something bad was happening to her. I didn't think twice and ran into the house. I broke the door down and... well, I came face-to-face with that... monster." He swallowed hard. "It was on top of Jonathan, and Nancy was lying in a corner of the living room. I think my instincts just kicked in or something. I grabbed a bat that was on the floor and went after the thing. I hit it as hard as I could in the back. Then it came at me, and I managed to dodge and land another hit."
Owens raised his eyebrows, visibly astonished. "...you fought that creature with a bat?"
Steve shook his head. "Calling it a fight is an exaggeration, sir. That thing wasn't taking me seriously. It seemed like it was... playing with me, you know? Having fun watching me attack in desperation without doing any damage."
"Still impressive," Owens remarked. "And then?"
"Then..." Steve hesitated, his face twisting into a grimace. "Then I don't remember much. I think my body pumped out so much adrenaline that I passed out.. When I woke up, the monster was already gone, and I was in Jonathan's car, on the way to middle school."
Owens tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "You don't remember what happened? What made the monster go away?"
"No..." Steve shook his head, his voice hesitant. "I really don't remember anything. I just remember waking up already in Jonathan's car, on the way to the school to meet Nancy's brother and his friends."
"...that's a shame. Please, go on."
"So then I basically forced Nancy to tell me what was going on. She told me about the lab, the fake body of Will Byers, and about a girl... Ten? Twelve?"
"Eleven," Owens corrected, his tone neutral.
"Yeah. Nancy also said she had... uh, powers? It sounded crazy, but after seeing that monster, I believed her."
"You didn't meet the girl?"
"No."
Owens nodded. "Go on."
"We got to the school, and it was a mess — full of cops, ambulances, that kind of thing. A police officer stopped us from going in and wouldn't say where the kids were. But we managed to convince him after it became clear that Nancy's brother was involved. So we went to the hospital. There, we found Chief Hopper, who took us to a waiting room with Nancy's parents, her brother, and two other kids. I waited for a few minutes, but... I realized there was no point in staying, so I left. My only connection to all of this was Nancy, and she was already safe."
Steve let out a heavy sigh and picked up the glass of water on the table, taking a sip to ease his dry throat. "That's it, I guess."
Owens stayed silent for a few seconds, eyes fixed on Steve. "Well... looks like you were pretty unlucky to get caught up in all this, son," he said at last, leaning back in his chair.
"Yeah." Steve gave a bitter smile. "Lately, bad luck's been stuck to me."
"I wouldn't say that, Steven. You had the bad luck of getting involved. But the fact that you're alive now shows just how lucky you really are," Owens said, lowering his eyes to his hands on the table. He stayed quiet for a moment, as if thinking about something, before continuing. "First, I want to offer my sincerest apologies for everything that happened. Because of the mistakes of irresponsible employees, innocent people like Barbara Holland lost their lives. And young people like you and Will Byers almost died. I want you to know that all those responsible have been identified and removed from their positions. They will pay for what they did, and we're taking steps to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."
'I doubt it.'
"R-right."
Owens pointed to the papers on the table. "Now, to wrap this up and put an end to this story, I need you to read these documents and sign them. They're just confidentiality agreements stating that you won't talk about this with anyone. Honestly, if it were up to me, I wouldn't even bother. I can tell you're a good kid. But my superiors wouldn't leave me alone if I didn't come back with those papers signed."
"No problem, si—Owens," Steve corrected himself and grabbed the pen that was next to the papers.
"Take as much time as you need and only sign where it's highlighted," Owens instructed, watching him closely.
Steve looked at the papers for a second, but instead of reading them, he immediately began signing, the pen gliding from page to page.
"You're... not going to read them?"
"Hmm?" Steve paused, looking at him with a somewhat awkward smile. "These papers just make sure I don't say anything, right? And if I do, I get arrested and all that, right?"
"Exactly," Owens confirmed.
"Then there's no reason to bother reading them." Steve shrugged and went back to signing. When he was done, he pushed the papers toward Owens. "All set."
Owens took the documents, examining each one carefully, checking that everything was signed before placing them in his briefcase. "I think we're done here, son. It was a pleasure meeting you, Steven. Shame it wasn't under better circumstances," he said, closing the briefcase with a click. He stood up and extended his hand. "Once again, I'm truly sorry for everything you went through."
Steve also stood, shaking Owens' hand again that day. "Yeah, me too. I mean—nice meeting you too."
Owens smiled, picking up the briefcase in one fluid motion. "Well, I'll be going then. Still have a lot to do today." He started walking toward the front door, with Steve following a few steps behind. When they reached the entrance, Owens stopped, his gaze fixed on Steve. "Do you have any questions or requests, Steven? If so, now's the time."
Steve hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually… there is one thing. Is there any way the police can avoid notifying my parents about my involvement in the Barbara case? They'll kill me if they find out."
Owens raised an eyebrow, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Hmm, I think I can make that happen."
"Thanks."
Steve opened the door, the late afternoon chill rushing into the house. Owens stepped out, pausing just outside. "Once again, I'm sorry. For everything."
"Thanks."
"Have a good night." Owens took a step toward the street but stopped abruptly, as if he had just remembered something. "Ah, almost forgot." He reached into the inner pocket of his sweater, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Steve. "This is for you."
Steve took the envelope, frowning as he looked it over. "What is this?"
"A check," Owens replied. "It's not much, but I hope it makes up for at least a little of what you went through."
Steve blinked, surprised. "This... thank you, Dr. Owens. You know, from everything I heard about you guys, I thought you were the bad guys. But... I guess I was wrong. You're a good man."
"I'm glad you think so, Steven," Owens smiled and gave a brief wave before walking away. "Take care. And good luck on the basketball team!"
Steve stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on Owens as he walked toward a black car parked a few meters away. Without waiting for the man to get in the car, he closed the door, the click of the lock echoing through the silence of the empty house.
'That. Was. A. Drag.' Steve looked down at the envelope in his hands, his mind spinning from the weight of the meeting. He tore the paper open without ceremony and pulled out the check to check the amount. 'Let's see... Fifteen thousand dollars?' That was a lot of money. But every cent was probably being tracked by them. 'Still, it could be useful...'
Tossing the check carelessly onto the couch, Steve walked over to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the room, looking for the strongest drink he had. He grabbed the whiskey bottle with the highest alcohol content he could find, filled a shot glass, and downed it all at once, feeling the burn slide down his throat instantly. "Huugh! Exactly what I needed," he murmured hoarsely as he filled the glass again.
The conversation with Owens had been exhausting, but overall, it went as expected.
Steve unfortunately couldn't lie, nor omit some facts as much as he wanted to. Because if his version was different from Nancy's and Jonathan's, he'd be in serious trouble. That's why he preferred to change only a few details that could work in his favor. And from what he felt, they actually did.
Steve had spent the whole time following Dr. Sam Owens's emotions, who seemed to believe pretty much everything he said — which suggested that Nancy and Jonathan's versions had already been collected. The only part that raised doubt and suspicion was the one about the fight against the monster.
Even so, Steve was 99% sure he'd convinced him when he explained that the monster was "playing." After all, it wasn't uncommon for intelligent predators to toy with their prey before killing them, like orcas did with seals.
As for the papers he signed, Steve wasn't worried. Owens hadn't shown any signs of guilt or malice while he signed them, which suggested there were no traps in them. He also didn't lie when Steve asked if those papers only certified that he wouldn't talk about anything.
"Haaah..." Letting out a sigh of relief, Steve downed another shot, already feeling the effects of the alcohol in his body. 'I should tear the house apart looking for bugs. They possibly broke in while I was at school.' He didn't plan to remove them — that would be suspicious. But he needed to know where they were so he could avoid those rooms as much as possible. 'Hope they didn't put anything in my room.'
***
DONG.... DONG.... DONG.... The clock's chime echoes in your head. Yes, that's exactly what you're thinking. Vecna's curse has gotten to you, dear reader! Feel the chill crawl down your spine and the air slip from your lungs—but do not fear! To break free from the dark grip of fate, you must offer me the legendary Power Stones. Only they can shatter your curse!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.