CHAPTER FIVE
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AFTER HOURS

THE WINDOWS OF
Jonathan's Ford Galaxie were cranked down and allowed cool Indiana wind to blow through the car, sweeping Val's mousy hair around her face. The Ramones played softly from his speakers and filled up the spaces of silence with sounds of Joey Ramone's wails. Val was thankful for this, and she racked her brain to find something to say that might open up a conversation with Jonathan and Will.

She eyed the cassette collection he kept in his console, seeing The Clash and Echo &The Bunnyman and The Cocteau Twins and David Bowie. At least he had decent taste, she noted. And she noticed a few polaroids pinned to his sun visor. One was of the boy in the backseat, smiling happily, holding up a miniature Millennium Falcon to the camera. The other was Will and a woman–who Val recognized as Joyce Byers–their faces pressed in close, both grinning widely and squinting in the camera's flash.

Val's chest warmed, but it also made her a little sad that she was never able to form a close bond with Jonathan and his family. She wondered briefly whether or not they would've grown to become close friends if their mothers had never fallen out of favor. Would they have become best friends? Would her photo be strung up in Jonathan's car? There was really no way for her to be sure.

"So, Will," Val started, turning in her seat. Will was leaning on his door and peering out of the window with a wistful look, like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "What grade are you in?"

"Seventh," he answered. He didn't look away from the passing scenery, and wind blew his hair away from his forehead. There was a sad glint in his dark eyes that made Val's gut twist. He was so small, so young, so undeserving of the type of sadness that sat heavily in your stomach like a brick. Val chewed on her lip and shared a look with Jonathan.

"Ya know, I work at Benny's," she commented casually, "I could probably hook you guys up with some free fries and a couple of milkshakes, if you wanna come inside." While it might have been a little presumptuous of her to assume that Benny would let her give her friends—were they friends? Val didn't know for sure—free food when she hadn't even clocked in for her first day. Yet, she didn't really care. He could take the cost out of her first paycheck, so long as it brought a happy smile to Will's young face.

"Really?" This, just as Val was hoping, had the kid in the backseat perking up. Will traded sagging sadly on his window for leaning up between the front seats.

"No, no," Jonathan quickly said, "you don't have to do that, it's fine."

"I know, I want to," she assured him with a shrug. No big deal. "You saved me from having to walk six miles, so we'll be even."

"I don't know..." Jonathan was obviously unsure, and he gripped the steering wheel like a circular vice, the skin around his dark eyes wrinkling as he winced. But, Val saw him chance his rearview mirror with a quick glance, and she knew he was apt to surrender. How could he say no when his baby brother's temporary happiness hung in the balance? When his round eyes shone at the prospect of free greasy diner food and a creamy, chocolate milkshake, topped with whipped cream and a perfectly round Maraschino cherry, the tall glass icy and dripping with cool sweat in the late summer heat. Val's own mouth watered at the thought.

"C'mon, Jonathan," Will pleaded shyly. Jonathan let out a contrite sigh before finally nodding, resigned.

"Alright, alright. As long as it's okay with your boss, Valerie," he reasoned, giving Val a pointed look.

"Oh, he's really cool. It's no big deal."

–

"First day and you're already late, Hellraiser," Benny chided when Val finally rushed through the back door of Benny's Burgers, her face flushed and her skin sticky with slick, summer perspiration. "That's grounds for a demerit."

"It's not my fault. Buddy was at work–"

"Ah," Benny quickly interrupted, his palm in the air, "excuses aren't allowed beyond that door, ya hear? You're late, that's no one's fault but your own."

"But, Benny–"

"Butt Benny? Name callin' isn't gonna get you anywhere either, young lady." At the serious tone in Benny's voice, Val snorted and dropped her bag off her shoulder, the absence of weight making her sigh.

"I'm sorry," she told him sincerely, "I had to thumb a ride from a meth dealer and he made a lot of stops."

"Just–" Benny sighed in a disillusioned sort of way, as if he knew that he was partially responsible for the blossoming of such a relentless smart ass. Val could only bite her lip and try not to grin too widely. "Put your bag in my office and grab an apron before I sprout any more gray hairs."

Val did as she was told, knowing exactly where to find her new boss' office. Her feet carried her down the hallway and into a door on the left that had a brass plate nailed into its wood, HAMMOND, PROPRIETOR.

Its hinges creaked with rust and when the door swung open, it kicked up plumes of dust and ruffled papers atop a desk cramped in the corner. A lumpy, plaid couch took up space on the opposite side of the desk, occupying most of the room's limited real estate. Nestled up where the ceiling kissed the drywall, a tile frosted window allowed stifled sunlight to bathe the musty room in a tender glow. In some ways, the room screamed BENNY! so loudly that it nearly blew Val's hair back behind her shoulders. War-worn and seemingly uninviting, but warm and kind hearted if you knew just where to look.

She dropped her bag on Benny's couch and quickly retreated to meet him in the kitchen, snatching a grease-worn apron from a hook in the hallway as she went.

"This is no onion, extra pickle," Benny grunted at his head cook, the sweat on his face dripping shamelessly. A burger sat perched upon a ceramic plate, its top bun turned over to reveal the innards.

"Yeah?"

"I needed it with no pickle, extra onion." He slid the plate back to Chuck, who sighed, the cigarette in his mouth dangling precariously. "And don't you dare get ashes in my food, Chuck." Chuck didn't respond to this, he only turned to flip the patties he was currently working on and grumbled unintelligibly around his cigarette.

Val was put to work straight away after Benny showed her how to use the time card-puncher. He warned her about snagging her finger in the merciless, metal stamp, and he introduced her to any staff she hadn't already met. (A busboy and a line cook who worked evenings only, both of their scowls illustrating just how much of a hard ass Benny could really be.) Unfortunately for her, the evening waitress Jeanie called in sick, so Val was gonna be flying in the dining room solo.

"Don't let anyone give you a hard time, alright?" Benny ordered, "if you got a question, you tell the riff-raff to keep their pants on and you come ask me. I'd rather waste time, not food, you hear?" Val nodded diligently, chewing on her bottom lip furiously.

"Got it, boss man." Benny showed her a few tickets so she knew how to write an order, he told her not to worry about adding up prices or memorizing the menu, he'd fill in the blanks for her since it was her first day. Just write down what they want, he said, I'll figure out the rest. She hung on every word he said, hoping her worried brow wasn't too deeply creasing her forehead. Before she lost her nerve, though, she quickly stuttered out, "would it be too much trouble to ask you for a favor, Benny?"

"What kinda favor?"

"Well, it wouldn't really be a favor, because you can take it out of my paycheck–no, I insist you take it out of my paycheck–"

"Spit it out, Val," he pushed, his arms folded over his broad chest, "I've got a dining room of hungry folks out there who are just dying to see your happy, smiling face."

"Could I get a couple of milkshakes and a plate of fries for my friends out there?" Val pointed her forefinger through the serving window, drawing Benny's eyeline to a table by the pane of glass facing the tree line outside.

There sat two boys deep in animated conversation, setting sunlight throwing their shadows across the speckled linoleum. The older one had his arms folded on the vinyl tabletop as he leaned over, a grin sprawled carelessly across his face, his nose crinkled at whatever the younger one had sputtered excitedly from his own smiling lips. Benny huffed, prepared to give the mousy girl a flat no.

"He was nice enough to give me a ride all the way from the high school because Buddy forgot about me. I was stranded. I almost had to walk."

"The horror," Benny grunted, shaking his head.

"Please?" Val's pleading tone was met with narrowed eyes, and Benny pursed his lips, thinking.

"He your boyfriend or something?"

"No!" Val shook her head dramatically, her hair shimmying around her face as she did. Benny lifted an eyebrow, unconvinced. "No, Benny. He's Joyce Byers' son. You remember? Jonathan?"

This seemed to trigger a memory, and Benny's face glitched to a blank sheet of flesh-colored slate. A ghost flashed across his eyes, the corners of his mouth tipping downwards, like he'd been suddenly hit by a sour smell. Val watched as the change took course over a few measly seconds, but had seemingly stretched out to hours, eternities.

It was unlike Benny to let her see such a ragged, unfiltered emotion cross his face so plainly. Not anger or hatred or fear, no nothing like that. It would be a cold day in Hell when Val ever saw those things stake claim on the face of ex-Navy Benny Hammond. But what she did see was the expression of someone who knew a secret.

"Hm," he hummed, still peering at the pair of Byers kids, carefully schooling his features back to his typical scowl, "those are Lonnie's boys, huh?"

"Yeah," Val responded slowly. Her stare stayed glued to Benny's purposefully blank eyes as they flicked back and forth between the two. "Jonathan and Will."

"Well, since I know their 'ole man, I guess a couple of milkshakes and some fries won't hurt anyone." Val's shoulders sagged with relief. How embarrassing would it have been if she had to walk out there and tell Jonathan and Will sorry! My super cool boss actually said no. Her thank you's were met with a stiff wave and a warning glance from Benny. "Yeah, yeah. Now get to work, Hellraiser, before I have to call your mom and tell her you got fired on your first day."

And to work, she got. The customers were nice enough, mostly understanding about being a probie and all. And despite the fact that Val had been almost certain that she knew Benny's menu backwards and forwards, there were in fact many, many items she wasn't entirely familiar with. But, she did as Benny told her, scrawling down whatever the customers asked for and trying her best not to appear as if she were ready to throttle some of their needy, annoying necks.

When Val had a few moments of downtime, about 20 or so minutes after Jonathan dropped her off, she was finally able to whip up a couple of chocolate milkshakes and shovel some steaming french fries into a paper lined basket. As she balanced the items on a plastic tray, her tongue poked out of the side of her mouth, and she slowly walked out to the dining room and towards the two boys by the front window.

"As promised," Val said with a grin as she slid the tray onto the table. (Best not to risk sending the tray toppling to the floor on her first day.) They each grabbed a glass and Val put the basket of fries between them before tucking the tray up under her arm. Their eyes shone like flickering amber, and Val wondered briefly how it could be so easy to make two people so happy.

"Thanks, Valerie," Jonathan told her earnestly, smiling up at the mousy girl and popping a salty shoe-string french fry into his eager mouth. The plump cherry was plucked from atop Will's mountainous whipped cream, and as he chewed, red juice dribbled down his chin and assaulted his already stained shirt collar.

"Don't mention it, Byers. Now we're even." She sent the older boy a playful wink, and his eyes pinched with a wide smile. "And call me Val, alright? No need to be so formal."

"Yeah, okay."

"Hey, Val?" Will's small voice was timid and nervous, but when Val's eyes flicked down to his, the grin that ran from one ear to another was unmistakable. Val's chest inflated with triumph.

"Yeah?"

"Could I get a straw, please?" Oh, right. Sheepishly, Val reached into the pocket of her polyester apron and retrieved two straws, brandishing them at each Byers son. Two red, plastic straws were eagerly sunk down into their thick malts, and as they each took greedy gulps, Val prayed that they tasted okay. Benny gave her vague instructions on how to work the milkshake machine between adding up tickets and helping the line cooks, and it was mostly guess work. Plus, the directions on the powder mix were in Spanish, so Val had to eyeball the coloring and hope the cocoa wasn't strong to the point of getting clogged up in the boy's throats.

But, they just gave her wide grins, happily sipping and chewing and dipping their fries into the creamy whip atop their glasses. She told them to enjoy, and she gave Jonathan another thanks for schlepping her all the way across town. Her gratitude was met with a no problem! and a wave of the hand.

So, she left her new friends to eat, and she continued to bob and weave between tables, doing her best to seem like she knew what the hell she was doing and failing miserably. The other patrons of the diner waited patiently for their food, and Val was met with little complaints. She guessed that not even they were willing to risk the wrath of Benny. And just as Jonathan and Will seemed like they were about to start moseying out of their chairs and head for Jonathan's Ford in the far end of the parking lot, Benny caught the corner of Val's eye.

His shoulders were tense, so unlike Benny that Val couldn't rip her eyes away from the back of his head, as he took long strides towards their table. She couldn't see the look on his face, but she could guess that it was normal—or at least, normal for someone who isn't Val, who doesn't know Benny the way she does—since there's nothing in either of the Byers' smiles to indicate otherwise. Hands freeze as they grab for a club sandwich resting on the ledge of the serving window, the ceramic warm and heavy, and she watches from over her shoulder as Benny says something good-natured to Jonathan, who responds amicably. It was all so friendly, it left Val wondering why he had such a weird reaction at the mention of their last name. Maybe it had something to do with Lonnie. The guy was a total dick, after all.

Benny spoke to the boys for a minute or so, and his parting words were something that made Will chortle, his boyish face bunching up around his nose. Benny affectionately tapped the vinyl-top of their table before he turned back towards the kitchen. Val quickly averted her eyes and lifted the club sandwich onto a tray, alongside an order of steak and fries and a bacon cheeseburger.

The boys left with a happy wave to Val from across the restaurant, and she watched them get into Jonathan's Galaxie through the front window, her lips stretching out to an easy smile. Hell, if making friends was this easy, maybe she'd do it more often.

–

"Good work today, Val," Benny told her with an earnest nod, his eyes glued to the cash on his desk as he counted it. The night wound down to an end rather quickly, which Val was thankful for, and the last couple of stragglers finally ambled out to their cars at around ten.

The nightly cleaning tasks weren't as laborious as she was expecting. She wiped down tables alongside the busboy AJ, and she refilled ketchup bottles and salt shakers with ease. And by the time Chuck was sopping a mop head of steaming, sudsy water across the kitchen floor, that signature cigarette still dangling from his frowning lips, Val was sticking her cardstock into the time punch machine and waving goodbye to AJ and the other line cook Troy. Her first night was over, and all she could do was hope Buddy wouldn't be too much longer.

"Thanks," she said, sighing tiredly, plopping down on Benny's lumpy couch.

"It's not so bad, right?" His tone was in good humor, and Val let a breath of a laugh escape her nose.

"No, not so bad." Her statement was punctuated by the sound of a squad car setting off its siren. It wailed for a few seconds, signifying that Buddy was out in the parking lot, and when it cut off Val groaned.

"Alright, kid, you better hit the road." This statement brought a reluctant shine to Val's eyes, her bottom lip jutting out to a pout. Tsk tsk came from Benny's amused mouth, and he knew what she was thinking without him even having to ask. "Don't give me that look. I'm not the one who got myself grounded."

"C'mon, Benny," Val pleaded, "don't you have any, I don't know...worldly advice for me? I mean, I don't wanna seem dramatic but my house sorta feels like Alcatraz these days."

"Well, that's what you get when you act like a little Hellion."

"Be-enny."

"Alright, alright," Benny chuckled, gathering tonight's earnings into a nylon bag and zipping it closed. Val watched, waiting. "Look, I've known your mom a long time. She loves you. The only reason she got so mad in the first place was because she was scared, yeah? Just...let her know that you love her, too. Hell, I don't know, do somethin' nice for her."

"Like what?" The burly man leaned back in his chair and huffed. While Benny was almost certainly right, it didn't change the fact that Val felt lost. Her mother had never stuck to the silent treatment for so long. And the thought of going home to her mom's sealed lips made her stomach flip anxiously. Val longed for the days when Buddy still lived at home. He made for a good mediator when he had to. (Like during the Grape Soda Incident of 1981.)

"I don't know, kid. Anything. Sing her a song, draw her a picture, tell her she looks pretty. Any of these will probably do the trick."

"That stuff seems way too easy," she pressed, resting her elbows on her knees, the greasy apron still covering her denim clad legs.

"It ain't rocket science," Benny said with a laugh. "Jo's stubborn. She isn't gonna break the ice first. Trust me."

It's not as if Val didn't already know this about her mother. Hell, Fairchild Stubbornness was a hereditary trait if you asked Val. In fact, every bone in Val's body was screaming at her to give the silent treatment right back to Jolene. To duct tape her mouth shut in protest and write GROUNDED across its silver surface, just for the hell of it. It was Jolene who taught Val how to be stubborn in the first place, after all. Who taught her just how to dig her heels in and say no! when things weren't going her way.

But, Val missed her mom. She missed getting home from school and sighing in relief when she saw her mother's smiling face because she was so happy to talk to someone on her side. She missed sitting at the kitchen table across from Jolene with a pizza box between them, their fingertips greasy and their faces beat red from laughing, music drowning out their giggles well into the night. She missed her best friend.

So, that gut instinct to be stubborn, to be ornery and headstrong and persistent in the face of any opposition, was stamped down into the pits of Val's stomach. She forced it so far down that she was sure it was gone, it had to be gone. If not for the sake of her sanity, then for the sake of her mom's. Because she knew it had to be eating her up inside, too. There was no way it wasn't. (And how lucky is she that she can know such a thing?)

"Can I ask you for another favor, Benny?"

"Jesus, what now?"

—

Darkness shrouded the suburban streets of Deerfield, the small neighborhood on the Eastern outskirts of Hawkins. Streetlamps gave the pavement an eerie orange glow where they shined oval spotlights, leaving the surrounding sidewalks and grassy yards and side streets out of its neglectful beams. Val was lucky enough to be sitting in the passenger seat of Buddy's squad car this trip, the scanner in his dash crackling quietly into the pockets of quiet. Fatigued eyes stared out at the flickering scenery, only catching glimpses of slumbering homes and idle cars.

It was a rare occasion that Buddy was so silent, and Val had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with the fact that he left her abandoned on the side of the road just that afternoon. "I already told you I won't tell Mom. Stop fretting."

"I'm not fretting," he defended with an indignant bite to his words. "I don't fret."

"Right," Val mused softly. Soon enough, the rubber tires beneath them crackled atop the gravel of the Fairchild driveway. The porchlight was on, casting a homely, comforting glow against their oak wood front door, and the nerves in Val's stomach seemed to melt away. Her shoulders sagged like she'd been on the road for hours, and all she could think about was falling into Jolene's arms. She clutched the paperbag in her hand like it was a life line, its bottom dark with grease and the contents inside filling up Buddy's car with a mouth-watering aroma. When Val opened the door, and noticed that Buddy hadn't moved to exit as well, she turned to peer at him expectantly.

"Aren't you coming in?"

"Eh, I don't think so," he replied with a wince, careful not to look at Val's face.

"C'mon, Buddy," she pressed, crouching down to catch her brother's dark eyes. "I promise I won't tell Mom, okay? I promise. Just come in for a little bit?"

"It's late for you, isn't it? Don't you have school in the morning?" While the reasoning was certainly valid, Val was always ready to risk precious sleep for some time with her two favorite people in the entire world. And nothing would make her happier than when she finally makes up with Jolene to hunker down with her and Buddy to watch a cheesy movie and eat junk food. They haven't had a Fairchild/Callahan movie night in months. And after a day like today, she needed one.

"Are you trying to ditch me, Deputy? Do you have a hot date or something?"

"God, kid, you're such a...little sister." Knowing she won, Val grinned wolfishly and shut the passenger side door of Buddy's squad car, his sigh of defeat echoing through the quiet night air.

Once inside, sounds of Jolene fiddling in the kitchen pulled Val like a magnet towards the noise, converse shuffling across the hardwood much like how the undead might. When she breached the archway, Buddy hanging back in the forior to shed his layers of restrictive police garb, Jolene turned from her spot at the pantry. She donned a fuzzy green robe, the strings loose and dangling down at the sides, the front hanging open to reveal her pajamas–a Hawkins PD softball t-shirt and a pair of flannel drawstring pants. Her hands held a box of poptarts tightly to her chest, the expression in her eyes glinting with words she might have wanted to say, but was far too hard headed to utter.

"Hey, mom," Val said softly, the floorboards creaking under her shoes as she stepped into the kitchen.

"Val," Jolene supplied, not quite cold, but still holding onto that anger that bubbled in her chest. "How was your first day?"

"Fine," she shrugged, "I got Benny to make us some of his famous barbeque burgers." The bag was held up, Val's smile small and hopeful. An offering, an olive branch. Something in Jolene's face cracked, and Val could see that caring, deep love shine through, bathing every visible surface in warm light, soothing the worry that had settled into Val's bones. She almost sighed at the feeling of all her tension leaking out of her body and oozing from every available crevice like flushing out someone's watermain.

"With pepper jack instead of swiss?"

"Duh."

Buddy tuned in from the hallway, still unsure of the secret language Val and Jolene seemed to share with one another, even after a lifetime of listening. It would've never occurred to him in a million years that swapping swiss cheese with pepper jack could build a bridge between two aching hearts that belonged to two of the most relentless and bullheaded women he knew. But, Buddy also knew not to question such things. Especially when it came to Valerie and Jolene Fairchild, Apprentice and Head Hellion of Hawkins, respectfully.

D E D I C A T I O N S:
harringtonsike  -WAW4NDA
For being so awesome!! Thank you sooooo much!!!

A / N
Well it was long and had zero Steve in it...
Please forgive me.
Next chapter will be a time jump!
Hope everyone liked it!
Votes and comments are my best motivators!
Thank you and happy reading!