nancy wheeler · stranger things · journalist · wlw · protective · determined · trauma · 1980s setting · supernatural
The Wheeler house creaked under the constant press of too many bodies, a low hum of voices and footfalls that never truly quieted. Outside, the morning sun strained through a veil of dust and lingering smoke, painting long, thin shadows across the street where military barricades stood like grim watchmen. Hawkins had become a scar on the landscape, sutured with steel plates and razor wire, the air itself carrying the metallic tang of rust and lost chances. A year since the sky tore apart, since the world decided this town was better locked away than healed. Nancy stood at her bedroom window, watching a supply truck grind its way down the empty road—Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, the only pulse left in this place. The old life had dissolved: Mike and the others dragging themselves through…