Work Text:
Pass the dutchie 'pon the left hand side...
Jonathan looked over at the clock on the dashboard, and saw that it was close to 4am when the Surfer Boy Pizza van rolled into the gas station. If he cared, he would have told Argyle that it was too early for this, to turn off the cassette tape with one song on it, but after quite frankly too many hours on the road and many more to go, he was well past the point of caring. Somewhere between Cedar City and Provo, he overheard Will lamenting to Mike that he should've swiped one of his mixtapes before leaving the house. Mike reminded him that they were a little bit more concerned with getting out of Lenora alive, much less with grabbing music for the road.
The song cut off with the engine as Argyle pulled up to the gas pump. The four boys bailed out of the van, grateful for a chance to, as Argyle so colorfully put it, "get some feeling back in their butts."
"Alright, brochachos, time to pony up."
Mike, Will, and Jonathan each handed Argyle some change to pitch in for gas fare. Before Jonathan could follow the younger boys into the 24-hour minimart, he felt Argyle put more change into his hand instead of taking what was offered. He turned to his friend, who pointed at the payphone next to the ice machine.
"Here's 50 cents, go call your girlfriend."
"Wait... what? Now?"
"No, I was thinking next Tuesday. Yes, now, man, my God!"
"But-- gas money-- I can't-- you can't just-- but the time difference--" Jonathan tripped over his excuses.
"Yes you can, and as for the time difference, you're wasting so much of it stalling that it won't matter. Now off to the payphone, ándale! Ándale! Ándale, ariba, ariba, ariba!"
Argyle said the last in the same clipped manner he used a few days ago to encourage Jonathan to smoke some purple palm tree delight, and, just as before, it had him sprinting towards the payphone before he knew what he was doing. He inserted the first quarter, dialed the Wheeler's number, and he hoped it was indeed Nancy who picked up.
***
It was a little before 6am when Nancy was woken up by the basement telephone's ringing. Without thinking about who on Earth would be calling her house at this hour, she blearily picked up the receiver, her voice thick with sleep as she answered.
"Hello?"
"Nancy?"
"Jonathan?" She shot bolt upright, clutching the receiver just a little tighter. She looked around, making sure that she hadn't woken anyone up yet before continuing, "Where the hell have you been all week? I've been calling your house every day and no one's answering."
"Uh, well, right now we're at a gas station in...actually, I have no idea where we are, somewhere on the I-15 headed to Salt Lake City, and--"
"Salt Lake City?" Nancy cut him off. "What the hell are you doing in Utah?"
"Why are you whispering?"
"Because I don't want to wake everyone else up. Don't change the subject. Utah? Is Mike with you? Why didn't Joyce say anything? Does she know?" Nancy had a sinking feeling that grew with every question she asked that something was seriously wrong on the West Coast. Just how wide was Vecna's reach, exactly? She hoped that whatever might be wrong, it wasn't that.
"Mike's here, he's safe, and Mom's with Murray in Alaska. Something about the Britannica's? I dunno, they didn't make much sense, and I doubt that's where they really are anyway..." Jonathan sighed deeply. "Look, Nance, we don't have much time, and I just used my last quarter. El's been kidnapped, we're trying to get her back, and we really need to make it to Dustin's girlfriend's house, and soon. I just wanted to tell you that we're all okay, and to promise you that I'll explain everything in more detail when we find her."
Nancy was stunned. She had more questions, much more that she wanted to say, but trusted that they would be able to really talk later.
"Wow. Okay, Jonathan. I'm really glad you're all okay. Things have been pretty batshit here, too, but please don't worry too much."
"Wait, what do you mean? Batshit how? Hold on--"
"Dustin... Earth to Dustin..."
As Jonathan was speaking, Eddie's voice came through over the walkie.
"Is that Eddie Munson?"
"Yeah, that's part of the crazy. Like I said, don't worry too much about us, we're... handling things. Just stay safe, and go bring El home."
"...DustinDustinDustinDustinDustin..."
Eddie's pleas for Dustin continued in the background, growing more frequent and more grating on Nancy's nerves. Whatever he needed could wait, or Dustin could wake up and answer for himself.
Turning her attention back to her boyfriend on the other line, she said "I love you, Thumper."
"I love you, too -- " Jonathan was abruptly cut off and replaced with the dial tone, likely due to the payphone timing out.
After her phone was back on its hook, she turned her attention to the whining fugitive on the other end of the walkie talkie. Somehow, she was still the only one in the basement awake to answer him, or else they were faking it. If Nancy was short with her response to Eddie's request for sustenance, he would just have to deal with it. In any case, she was relieved to finally hear something -- anything -- from Jonathan since all this craziness started. At least he was safe.