re·store

verb

return (someone or something) to a former condition, place, or position

Emilia prodded the breakfast that Joyce had made for the family. Her stomach churned, and she did not want to eat despite the fact she was hungry. Seated next to her was Jonathan, who noticed her discomfort and reached over to hold her hand. Feeling his warmth grip, she squeezed back half-heartedly and glanced up at him.

"Don't be nervous," Jonathan said, "We'll all be there."

They were going to the lab to talk with the doctor about Will and Emilia's worsening dreams, visions, whatever they were. Since the event at the school Emilia had not had another disturbing attack since, aside from the nightmare. The nightmares were nothing new, although she could not deny that they were worsening as the one year anniversary of it all came around. Just like with her mother's death, it got worse around this time of year.

And since they both happened in such similar time frames, autumn and winter became a dreaded time of year. She used to love it, watching those summer colours fade into oranges, the Halloween events that popped up. Now, now she worried what she might face when she turned a corner, shut her eyes.

"Come on," Jonathan had cleared the table and was holding out his hand for her.

She smiled up at him, looking at his extended hand and knowing that she would make it through. Taking his offer, they held hands all the way out to the car. Hopper's truck was idling, and they all crammed in despite the fact that they would have been more comfortable in separate vehicles. Hopper drove and Joyce took the passenger seat. Will sat crammed behind Hopper who pushed his seat back very far, and Emilia took the middle. She leaned her head on Jonathan's shoulder.

Hopper looked in the rear view mirror and saw how Emilia looked at peace so close to Jonathan; although he acted as father figure, he didn't have the paternal instinct to hate all boys who spoke to his daughter. Besides, Jonathan had long ago proved himself different from the other boys.

Music played, the soft beat pulsing through the back speakers. Feeling as though she could speak in peace, Emilia whispered to Jonathan, "Tell me something good."

Jonathan glanced down at Emilia, reaching his hand up and brushing her brown hair away from her pale face. Revealing the scars, he studied them as he had a thousand times before. They never bothered him, aside from that deep set guilt that he had been the cause of the scars, he still thought she was the most beautiful person on the planet. Inside and out.

That thought crossed his mind, and yet what came out was, "You make really good pancakes."

Emilia laughed, a short burst, but her shoulders wiggled against his as she continued to snicker quietly. A small groan came from her lips, "Something real, Jonathan."

"You're the strongest person I've ever met."

She smiled at that.

The lab was in sight and it made Emilia grimace. She had never been to a therapist. When her mother died, they had someone check in to make sure she wasn't going to kill herself or something, but they could never afford actual therapy. Her therapy had been books. Now she had family to support her, and therapy seemed a little less intimidating.

Greeted by a stout man, he nodded at Hopper and Joyce with familiarity. "Joyce, Jim, I'm glad you could make it. And hello there, Will, it's been a while. How have you been?"

Will just shrugged, and Emilia felt the same.

"I'm Doctor Owens," the man said, extending his hand to Emilia. "You must be Emilia."

She nodded.

"Follow me, then, if you will." He spun around and walked towards the elevator. They all crammed in and then the elevator music played dimly in the background.

Emilia squeezed Jonathan's hand, and realized that she didn't want to talk to some stranger about her problems. These were the people that caused her problems, forced Eleven into breaking through the gate, opening up their world to another world. What that girl went through was enough for Emilia to distrust them, let alone everything else they had done on top of that. She looked over at Hopper and wondered how this sat right with him.

Will had no improvement, not really, so what good was the therapy really doing?

They were just case studies.

"Jonathan, I don't want to do this," Emilia mumbled.

"You don't have to," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "We'll get outta here as soon as Will is done and we can go take some pictures, that always makes you feel better."

"I'd like that," she breathed in his scent, it restored her confidence. She said, more to herself than Jonathan, "I can do this."

"I know you can," he confirmed as the elevator doors opened wide. He squeezed her hand and they followed Doctor Owens out.

The Doctor, who had not heard anything Emilia had been saying to Jonathan said, "Why don't you start today, Emilia? There is a lot for us to talk about."

"Actually," Jonathan stepped up, "Emilia isn't feeling up to it today."

"Oh, well that is a shame, Emilia, you've come this far." There was a tone to his voice that made Emilia twitch.

"No, I'll do it." She thought of the school, and how it had physically changed on her. She thought of the thing she threw up last Christmas. "This one time."

"Excellent, follow me, dear."

In the hospital style room Emilia propped herself up on the bed, let the nurses jab needles in her arm and test her blood. They even swabbed her inner cheek. They peered into her eyes, listened to her heart, looked in her ear canals. After the probing was done, she was alone with a nurse and Doctor Owens.

He basically told her what she had been through last year, and when he had covered the basics -some of which Emilia corrected for accuracy- he finally got to the questions. "Have you experienced anything abnormal since the events of last year?"

"Yes," she admitted, "Sometimes it is like the world turns upside down again, and I'm here... trapped and alone."

"Similar to Will," he said, pondering the correlation.

"It's still here, right? So maybe I'm not crazy but it's... inside me somehow?" Emilia surprised herself with how much she could loosen her tongue.

"You were not there for a very long time-"

"It shoved a tube down my throat, it put something... inside of me."

"What did it put inside of you?"

She groaned, "I don't know! It! Whatever IT is."

"Will has said nothing of the sort."

"Would you want to admit that?" She shuddered. "The feeling is growing, this fear that it's not over yet..."

"With the year anniver-"

"I know, I know," Emilia shook her head in defeat. "If this is all you're going to tell me, I think we're done here. You know as little as I do."

"Now, Emilia, that is not true-"

"So tell me the truth! Tell us, what harm can it do? Will and I deserve to know WHAT happened to us. Sure you can give us free medical treatment and this bullshit-therapy, but that doesn't make it better. That's just enough to keep us quiet. So people like Barb Holland's parents can go about believing that their daughter wasn't eaten by some monster!"

"Calm down, Emilia, I will not tolerate your attitude."

Emilia ripped the needle out of her arm, and was stunned by how much it hurt. It always looked effortless in the movies. Hiding her cringe, she hopped off of the hospital bed and tore off. In the hall Jonathan was sitting on a hard plastic waiting chair, and he rose quickly, tossing the newspaper he had been reading on the ground. He called after her as she walked towards the stairwell, but she didn't stop.

Jonathan chased after her, yanking open the stairwell door and seeing her seated on the stairs two flights down. Joining her, he wrapped and arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Kissing the side of her head, the soft spot of her temple, he waited until she had calmed down.

Then he said, "You always smell wonderful."

She laughed, knowing he was listing things thatwere good. It was something he did, to make her feel better. She leaned intohim, sighing and forgetting about the world aside from them, together. Healways made it feel as though things were going to be okay, and for a moment, she believed it.

I am struggling to write this. I'm open to ideas, I have a few stored up but the motivation to write this is dwindling. I'll still write it, post regularly, and complete it, but I don't want to half ass this story! We've almost hit 10K reads and that's so exciting! 

Question of the Day: Do you have a suggestion for me to get back into the hype about writing this? (other than watching the show)