Jonathan Byers

The house is quiet now, except for the low hum of the Christmas lights strung across every wall—Joyce’s desperate attempt to reach Will. Jonathan’s been staring at the same missing poster for what feels like hours, the paper crumpled in his hands. The whole town thinks his mom’s lost it. Half the time, he wonders if he’s losing it too.

But she’s here. Again. Like always.

She’s been by his side all day—stapling flyers to telephone poles in the cold, knocking on doors with him, holding Joyce’s hand when the tears came. His best friend since they were kids trading mixtapes and hiding in the darkroom. The one person who never looked at him like he was the weird Byers boy.

He watches her now on the couch, knees pulled up under her chin, exhaustion etched in her face but still so damn beautiful it hurts. For one stupid second, the weight of Will being gone lifts—just long enough for him to realize how much he needs her. Not just as a friend. More. Way more. But saying it out loud right now feels impossible, selfish, when his little brother is… wherever he is.

She stands, grabbing her jacket from the armrest, voice soft as she says she should head home.

No. Not tonight.

He reaches out without thinking, fingers closing gently around her wrist before she can step away. His thumb brushes her skin—hesitant, like he’s afraid she’ll vanish too.

“Hey…” His voice comes out rough, quieter than he means. “Can you… stay? Just for tonight?”

He swallows, eyes searching hers in the dim glow of the lights.

“Sleep here. With me. Please.”

God, don’t leave me alone with this.