A/N: I cannot tell you how excited I am to share this with all of you. I had a lot of fun writing it and I am currently chapters and chapters ahead of my posting it. I really hope you enjoy this as much as we have.

Thank you especially to Ellie. I could not have done this without you and you have no idea how much your support and help has meant to me.

Chapter One

Waking up hurt more than usual. Normally if I hadn't gotten enough sleep I'd wake up with a headache and a large urge to stay in my bed. This felt like I had been hit by a truck. Or that I did a triathlon without any training.

I rolled over, trying to get away from the sun that was beaming into the room. Everything hurt even more and as I moved my stomach clenched. I felt myself bolting up, ignoring the pain as I reached for the garbage can that should have been next to my bed. I hit a night stand instead. I forced my eyes open, catching sight of the can across the room almost instantly. I moved without thinking, praying that I got there before I threw up. Saliva accumulated in my mouth bringing that feeling that throwing up was imminent. My body tangled in the sheets as I dove off the bed. I hit the ground hard and before I could stop myself, I threw up all over the carpet. I didn't even have a carpet.

I pushed back my hair. Was it shorter? I cringed at the vomit in it. What the hell happened last night? "Honey?" There was a knock at the door. "Are you alright?" I blearily looked up at the woman as she opened the door. "Oh my god! Tammy!" The woman dove forwards and knelt at my side. Who the fuck was she? And why was she touching me? I tried to pull back and hit my head on the nightstand behind me. "Baby, are you okay?" She grabbed my arm. "Here let me help you. Get back into bed. I'll call the school to tell them you're sick...and get this cleaned up. I'll bring you a bowl."

I struggled to get up and it was only with her help that I was able to get back in the bed. When she left to get the bowl, I looked around. Where the hell was I? The room was pink. There were posters on the wall including Madonna and what looked like George Michael. My head pounded. I stared at the wall for what felt like ages until the woman came back with a bowl. Where the fuck was I?

"I called the school," the woman said as she walked in. "You'll stay home today. Hopefully it's just a stomach bug."

I stared at her confused. "School?" I hadn't gone to school in years. Not since I graduated university.

"Yeah, honey." She sat down beside me on the bed. "School. Don't worry, I'll be home. You call me with whatever you need. Okay?"

I nodded at her. She needed to leave so I could figure this out.

"I'm going to get this cleaned up." She looked at me and glanced at my hair. "I'll bring you a washcloth." I watched her go, trembling and trying to hold on to what little control I had left. I felt like I had been run over and thrown around like I was a dog's chew toy. I was in a room that wasn't mine. Some woman was calling me honey and baby and Tammy. And apparently I had school. Something was very very wrong.

I was right.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Except it wasn't me. Sure, it made all the faces I was making. The reflection stuck out its tongue at the same time as I did, but it wasn't me. I was an average height woman with large thighs, stomach and breasts and a hip to ankle ratio that could make men weep if I really tried. My reflection was not. The girl, and that was the only way to describe her, was taller than I was. Thinner. She had some curves but she was exactly what I said she was. A girl. She looked like she was in her late teens. What the fuck.

I felt like screaming. I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs and demanding my body back. What the hell happened? And where was I?

I felt a panic attack starting. My chest tightened and breathing was getting difficult. The hairs on my arms stood up with goosebumps and I broke out into a cold sweat. It was like I had a fever. I tried to focus, to calm down and settle myself somehow. I focused on the Wham! poster on the wall. It wasn't working. I felt like I was going to be sick.

It would have been one thing to wake up in a stranger's house after a night out, likely one filled with mistakes, but I had been awake, hadn't I? Before I woke up here. I was at work and was on my way to meet some recruiters for lunch. Right? So how had I ended up here? And where was here? I threw up again.

I generally prided myself to be a logical and intelligent person. Those qualities didn't seem to be helping right now. Each time I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I thought there was a stranger in the room with me. I nearly jumped out of my skin every time. I looked around the room. There had to be something that told me where I was and who I was inhabiting.

My search didn't uncover more than some vinyls and cassettes. Who the hell even had these anymore? Hipsters? There were a few books on the shelves but mostly knickknacks on the desk. Small things. Weird ticket stubs to movies, some that I recognized and others that I didn't. Polaroid photos of friends. Definitely a hipster at this rate, or she was doing some focused project on the 80's or early 90's. I hadn't even seen these in years, not outside of ads and Instagram filters.

It was becoming more apparent that I was nowhere near home, the more I looked around. I hadn't seen any sign of a computer, a laptop or even a cell phone. Who doesn't have a cellphone? At least if I got a computer I could check the IP address or more likely check google to see where it thought I was. Maybe this girl was already signed into social media which would be a huge help. Unfortunately, all I found was a diary. God, was I stuck with Mormons? Or a cult? Maybe I was brainwashed into not remembering! How was I going to get...I stopped myself from spiraling further into my imagination. There was no point in making things worse and having another panic attack without any facts. I opened the diary.

Dear Diary,

My name is Tammy Thomspon. Im 7 years old and got you for my birtday! We live in Hawkins and I live with my mom and my dad! I'm going to write in you every day!

She did not. The entries were sporadic but she did keep at it for years. It was a little impressive. She did not date the entries though, because of course not. It couldn't be that easy.


I know I haven't been writing but so much has happened! I'm going to high school! Maybe this will finally be the year that Steve sees me! God, I hope so. My dreams of Tommy H and Carol moving suddenly has yet to happen, but it doesn't matter. I have a plan! Once I'm done high school (and marrying Steve), I'm going to Nashville! I'm going to be a star!

It continued like that. From what I read, Tammy was a dreamer. A hopeful idealistic girl who just wanted to make her mark. She seemed to think it would be through singing. There were tapes. Tammy was determined enough to record herself singing. It was awful. She was stretching her voice too high. Sounded like she was trying hard to be Barbara Streisand. She was more suited for Joan Jett, or that singer who used to be in Gossip Girl.

One other thing I learned was the date, or at least, an idea of the date. She dated the last entry, the one about Steve and starting high school, as 1981.

I shut the book instantly. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. There was no feasible way that I not only body swapped into someone in another country, but time travelled as well. Panic welled up in me. I needed to get out. I needed to go and get home and get out.

A knock sounded at the door, cutting through my thoughts, and I scrambled to climb back into the bed. Jesus. This girls bed felt like it was ten feet off the ground. It's a wonder I didn't break my neck falling off.

The woman walked in, this time holding a glass. "I brought you some Vernors. Are you feeling better?" What the hell was Vernors?

I nodded and accepted the glass. It looked like ginger ale, smelled like it too. "Yeah, thanks."

She leaned forward and brushed some of my hair back. "Is it just nerves? I remember when I started senior year. It was terrifying but exciting. I met your father in high school, you know?"

I stared at her. I couldn't stop myself from watching this woman wide eyed. She had just given me a date and confirmed the fact that this girl was in high school. God, that meant I was in high school. Like I didn't have enough of that when I did it myself. I went over in my head what I knew about the US school system. Senior was equal to grade 12 in Canada. Fuck. That was another problem. I grew up using the metric system, not the US one.

The woman laughed. "Don't worry, I won't tease you further. I'm going shopping before your father and I go out." She leaned forward and kissed my forehead, or Tammy's forehead. I froze. "Love you. Feel better."

I watched her walk away. What would she say if she knew I wasn't her daughter? How could I explain that? And what the hell happened to the real Tammy? I dug my finger into the bruise on my arm that grew from hitting the night table. It still felt real.

I got up quickly and kept searching. I needed to go home. I...I was in the past, sure, and totally not myself, but I needed to get home. Since I was stuck in the States, I needed a passport to get there. I had to find Tammy's...and convince my mother I was real. I wasn't even born yet. God, there was no way my mother would even believe me. She was a practical woman who put the minimal effort into taking care of me when I was sick and just made sure I had what I needed. She wasn't prone to flights of fancy or fantasy. She'd never believe me. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

The longer I was here, the more complicated everything seemed to be getting. I flung myself back in the bed and burst into tears. Maybe if I passed out, crying myself to sleep, I'd wake up at home and this would be a bad dream. This was too much.

I woke up in the middle of the night.

In the dark, I could pretend that the room was mine. At least until I fell off the bed while trying to get off of it. I turned on the light and stared at my reflection again. It wasn't me. She moved the same way I did. It just didn't look like me. As weird as it sounded, she didn't feel like me. I felt like an intruder. Like a demon from that show Supernatural. I couldn't feel anyone else in my mind, which made me wonder, what happened to her. Why was I here?

I stared at the mirror before I turned away. I was half tempted to cover it but that would likely raise questions. First things first. I had to figure out who the hell Tammy was so I could impersonate her enough to find my way out of here, out of her.

I scoured every part of her room. I tried to memorize her friends and thanked god Tammy wrote names on the backs of photos. I read every inch of any diary or writing I could find. Even old school assignments that she kept for some reason. She was a pretty average kid. Her handwriting was perfect, but my writing looked like a doctors when I wrote fast enough so anything looked good to me. She looked like she was getting mainly Bs and Cs. Probably because she was so focused on her singing, she didn't seem to apply the same drive to the rest of her schooling.

The clothes in the closet told me another story.

"Oh honey, no," I muttered. It was an atrocity. The fashion in the 80s was filled with colours and contradictions. Tammy's closet seemed to hold the worst of it. None of it seemed well suited to her. The clothes didn't fit properly from what I could tell. They looked like they were too short and a weird mixture of tight and baggy. It was all the typical tragedy of unpopular teens, no matter what decade. If anything, I made a mental note that before I left I'd ensure she had a decent selection. A small payback for accidentally taking her over, along with better grades if I really had to do school over.

Since it was likely that I would actually have to go to school tomorrow, I had to find an outfit that worked. At least one that didn't look too awful. One had to blend in, at least to make sure I didn't draw too much attention. I looked back at the closet. Staying in her outfits would probably let me basically disappear in the crowd. I wasn't sure I could subject either of us to it though. I had a headache thinking about it.

I chose flared jeans and a slightly tighter shirt. It was a size small. I didn't think I had ever fit into a size small in my entire life. I threw on an oversized sweater over it, ignoring the familiar feeling of wanting to hide. It really was just like high school all over again and I hadn't even gone yet.

I sat outside and watched the sunrise on the porch. The street was silent. Hawkins must be a small town. It was weird. I was used to hearing the sounds of traffic, of people constantly walking by. It just made everything worse somehow. It felt like I was alone.

I couldn't stop myself. I started crying. It wasn't fair. I was supposed to be at home, maybe on a date with a man who would pretend that he wasn't intimidated by the fact I was more successful than him. We'd have some mediocre sex and I'd kick him out so I could sleep alone before I had to wake up and go back to work. I shouldn't be possessing some kid. It wasn't possible. It shouldn't be possible. I just wanted to go home. I wanted my mom.

I kept crying.

"Have a good day! Call me if you feel sick again!"

I waved off Tammy's mother as I turned and faced the school. It was a single story building. Gods, this was a small town. No time like the present, I guessed, and made my way forward. It was only as I stepped into the main foyer that I realized something. They had lockers. Tammy had a locker and I had no idea where it was. As a matter of fact, I had no idea what her schedule was. What if there were assigned seats?

I turned, ready to walk out and skip. Tammy could handle one day off. Or two. Whatever. I was nowhere near ready for this.

"Hey! Tammy! Where are you going?"

I almost didn't stop, but the fact that whoever was calling Tammy sounded like she knew her well.

I forced myself to turn around, ignoring the voice in my head that was screaming at me that this was a bad idea. The girl waving at me was recognizable. She was from one of the pictures in Tammy's room. Abby, or was it Ally? I walked up to her and smiled while praying to any god that heard me that I'd make it through this.

"Hey," I said.

"Like, where were you yesterday?" Abby asked. I couldn't stop staring at her hair. It came down to her jaw but she had teased it so much that it almost looked like a halo around her head.

"Sick," I said.

"Ew. You're better now, right?" Once I nodded, the girl grabbed my hand, "Great! You won't believe what Tommy H. and Carol were fighting about yesterday! Come on! We're going to be late for homeroom!"

I pulled my hand back. "You go ahead," I said. "I gotta go to the office."


I shrugged. "I missed something yesterday." I waved her off and headed down the hall.

"Tammy!" Her voice called me back. I looked back and she was staring at me confused. "The office is that way…" she pointed to the hall on my left.

"Obviously," I called back, striding down the hall quickly if only to get away from the mean child. Christ. This was worse than I thought.

I strode up to the secretary's counter. I could do this. One doesn't get through university and end up a recruiter without successfully learning how to bullshit. It took a few moments before they even realized I was there.

"Can I help you…?" The older woman asked. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not that she didn't recognize Tammy on sight.

"Yes, ma'am. I lost my schedule and locker info. I was hoping you could help me please?"

She peered at me over her glasses before she sighed. Loudly. "Name?"

"Kat -" I stopped myself. I wasn't Katya anymore. Least, not externally. "Tammy. Tammy Thompson."

"Okay, Ms. Thompson." I waited while she found a file and then seemed to copy it. It felt like it took forever. This would be so much faster if I just had a phone and she could just email it to me. This felt like a snail's pace. How did anyone get anything done like this? I tried not to groan and lay my head on the counter.

She finally handed me the copy. "Don't lose this one."

"I won't," I said, smiling up at her. At least one thing was working out. "Thank you!" She looked at me surprised. Did no one say thank you?

I left the office and the halls were quiet. Okay, on to the next step of the plan. Find the classes.

Turned out, once I had my schedule, finding the classes was a breeze. Since it was only a one story building, everything was fairly in numerical order. The only thing not was the gym, but that was easy to find as well. It was creepy though, walking through the halls. They were nearly empty and I could hear voices in unison repeating something. It sounded like the same thing in each class. It was like part of a horror movie.

I walked into English late. Somehow, it felt as awkward as it did when I was a teenager. Everyone was staring at me.

"Sorry I'm late," I said to the teacher. "I had an issue with the office."

"Just sit down Ms. Thompson," she said, waving me towards the only empty seat in the class.

"Thank you," I said. I sat down quickly and hard. My face flamed as everyone glanced at me. Why the hell were these seats so low? Ally, or was it Abby? was looking at me like I was crazy. The teacher started talking again and delving into the subject of Shakespeare. I had studied this before. In detail. I had taken a few English classes in University and no matter what, it all seemed to connect to Shakespeare. At least, many teachers seemed to think so.

Already bored, I looked around the class. Some of the kids were goofing off. I saw one girl drawing on her shoes. She looked up at me as I was staring at her. I gave a half smile before looking away and that's when I saw him.

I suddenly knew why that name was familiar. It wasn't just Tammy's diary. He looked back, smiling at some girl across the aisle. Steve Harrington wasn't just Tammy's crush. He was from a show. His face filled my dashboards on all my social media for a time. I felt my stomach drop. Nope. Nope nope nope. I quickly looked away, trying to quell my panic.

This was bad. This was very bad. Also, impossible, but at the moment the only thought I could focus on was that this was bad. I had never watched the show. I had been told repeatedly to try it out, and I meant to...I just never have. I knew it wasn't a happy go lucky teen drama show though. There were monsters. That's how Steve got so popular, by fighting monsters and protecting kids. I did not want to be in a world with real fucking monsters!

Holy shit. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get out fast. I felt myself hyperventilating. Fuck it. I made a mental apology to Tammy before I stood up and practically ran from the classroom.

"Miss. Thompson! Where do you think you're going?" I ignored her voice calling out after me. I'd go back and apologize, say I was sick again. I just needed to get some air. Was it even safe though? I didn't know enough to know what happened and when?

I ran through the hallway. Thankfully the school was not large enough for it to take long for me to get outside. I stopped when it finally felt like the walls weren't closing in on me.

"Take me back!" I screamed at the sky. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know why I was here. I just needed to go home. I started trying to list all the gods that I knew, which weren't many and before I realized it, I was calling on fictional characters. "Thor! Heimdall! Doctor! Anyone!"

There was no answer.

I didn't expect there to be, not really. It was just a hope. I had come here by some power so surely there should be a way for me to get back. Right? I had to give Tammy her body back and go home.

"Are you okay?"

I turned at the voice. Despite all my yelling, it hadn't occurred to me that someone would actually hear me. At least, not someone here.

It was the girl from the class, the one who had been drawing on her shoes. She looked concerned, and a little wary. No surprise. She probably thought I was crazy. I was starting to think so. I felt my throat start to close up and tears started to well up in my eyes. I dug my fingers into the bruise on my arm as if I could hold onto myself with it.

I tried to fight it. I didn't know how emotional Tammy was and I had no idea if she knew this girl or not, even just as an acquaintance. It didn't work though.


The sound of her name broke me. I couldn't help myself. I just started crying in earnest. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I should be able to control myself, at least until I was alone.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay!" The girl was suddenly beside me. She put an arm around my shoulders and started leading me somewhere. "Just breathe, okay? Here, sit."

I looked up. She had led up to the bleachers at the end of the field. I tried to relax, to at least calm myself to stop crying, but I stared at this strange girl who was dressed like nothing I was used to, and I'd start up again. I hadn't been this much of an emotional mess since I was in high school. It suddenly dawned on me. I was in a teenager's body and her emotions and hormones likely weren't regulated yet.


The girl scowled at me. "I know we're not friends, but I'm trying to help you. No need to be rude."

"Not you," I said, waving my hand slightly before taking a deep breath. The revelation had apparently shocked me out of crying. I wiped away the tears left on my face. "I just…" I shook my head. I couldn't explain even if I wanted to. I gave her a small smile though. "Thanks. I appreciate you coming out after me. You didn't have to."

She shrugged and looked like she was trying to act nonchalant. "Someone had to." She had a point. If anything, Ally should have. She was Tammy's friend. Wasn't she? This girl had come though, despite saying that they weren't friends. Well, I was going to do Tammy another service.

I held out my hand. "I'm Ka..Tammy. I'm Tammy." I really had to get that under control.

She looked at me strangely. She finally reached out and shook my hand. "Robin. We have three classes together."

"Yeah," I said quickly, trying to recover. "But if we're going to be friends, we gotta start on the right foot."

"Friends?" she asked. She looked a little suspicious, but also hopeful? I hoped so.

"Yeah," I said. "Friends."