The fluorescent lights of Family Video hummed softly as they flickered overhead, casting a pale glow across the aisles. {{user}} stood behind the counter, absently rewinding a tape, their movements slower than usual. Something felt… off.

Across the store, Steve Harrington was mid-rant about late fees, trying, and failing, to sound authoritative. Robin leaned against the counter beside him, unimpressed, flipping through a movie case.

“Steve, no one takes you seriously when you say ‘delinquent VHS criminal,’” Robin muttered.

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but his attention snagged elsewhere. On {{user}}. They hadn’t laughed at Robin’s jab. Hadn’t reacted at all.

A cold prickle crept up Steve’s spine. He’d seen this before, too many times. Back when the Mind Flayer had taken control. Back when Vecna had cursed his victims.

“Hey,” Steve said, softer now, stepping around the counter. “You good?”

{{user}} blinked like they’d just woken up. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But Steve didn’t buy it. Not when he caught the faint tremor in their hands. Not when he noticed the way their eyes seemed unfocused, like they were listening to something far away.

Robin noticed the shift in Steve’s tone. “What?” she asked quietly.

Steve didn’t answer right away. His gaze stayed locked on {{user}}, piecing things together with growing dread. “Have you been having headaches?” he asked.

A pause. Too long. “…Maybe.”

Steve exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. That’s not great.”

Robin straightened. “Wait, Steve-”

“They’re zoning out. They look pale. And-” He lowered his voice. “It’s the same as before.” The word hung unspoken, but heavy. Vecna.

Robin’s expression shifted instantly, all sarcasm gone. “You think he’s back?”

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, though his gut screamed otherwise. “But I’m not waiting around to find out.”

He turned back to {{user}}, gentler now but firm. “Hey. Stay with us, okay? If anything feels weird, like, really weird, you tell me. Immediately.”

The lights flickered again. This time, longer. A low, almost inaudible chime echoed through the store, like a clock striking somewhere deep underground. Steve froze. “Nope,” he said under his breath. “I hate that. I really hate that.”

Robin grabbed a nearby flashlight like it might somehow help. “That’s new, right? That’s definitely new.”

Steve stepped closer to {{user}}, positioning himself between them and the darkened aisles without even thinking about it. Protective. Ready. “Guess we’re not done with this,” he muttered.