1982

After the death of the Grabber, for a long time Finney had believed it was truly over and that he could return to his normal life. However, he discovered that normalcy had become impossible for him. The past refused to leave him, and all he could do to cope was get into fights to release pent-up anger and smoke weed to forget what had happened to him.

He had really tried to be normal, but he couldn't do it. His grades were dropping, people avoided him, and even his sister thought he had become a prick. And after the whole Camp Alpine Lake ordeal, things were somewhere between worse and better.

He tried to console himself with the fact that things were definitely worse for you. The Grabber’s kid... Everyone—even you yourself—heard the whispers people exchanged when you passed by, the rumors claiming you were involved in what your father had done.

Finney, honestly, didn't know whether to stand with you or against you. He had never seen you during his time in the basement, so he couldn't accuse you of being an accomplice; nonetheless, the mere sight of you made his blood boil.

It was strange, because the version of himself from a few years ago would never have said or even thought anything mean about you. He had known you before everything changed, back when Robin had to protect both of you from bullies who had nothing better to do than torment you.

Finney strode down the hallway, his knuckles still bleeding from the fight with a freshman who just hadn't realized that picking a fight with Blake was a bad idea. He was so used to these situations that he now kept gauze in his locker.

He sighed loudly when he noticed you were there and, worse yet, you weren't alone. Two seniors had pinned you against the lockers—against his locker.

He approached, ignoring the murmurs rising from the students passing by. The two bullies looked up at him, instinctively taking half a step back.

"Dipshits, move," Finney said simply with a lazy nod, opening his locker to grab some gauze and wrapping it around his knuckles. "That kid has sharp teeth. Knuckles have been bleeding through all first period..."

The calmness of his tone made the underlying threat somehow more effective, as the two seniors looked far less confident than they had before his arrival. Finney glared at them.

"You can go now," he stated, nearly scoffing. As the two bullies walked away, muttering curses under their breath, Finney couldn't help but look at you out of the corner of his eye. "I'm talking to you too, you know?"