g

The kids are in the basement, currently abiding by their own routine of passing out in a pile for a few days in the aftermath. Steve is out with Hopper, helping with cleanup around town. Robin is with Vickie doing...whatever it is they’re doing. Robin hasn’t told her yet, but Nancy thinks she will, and she’ll be ready to listen whenever she does.

But Nancy...Nancy is awake. And as she sits at the kitchen table, staring into yet another cup of coffee, she realizes that she really, really doesn’t want to be.

She gets up, dumps the mug in the sink, then slumps up to her bedroom.

Fuck it, she thinks, and there’s something freeing to the words, even if they’re just in her head. It’s over. She can take a day off.

She isn’t all that surprised when sleep doesn’t quite come. She lies in bed, blinking slowly up at the ceiling, and lets her thoughts just unfurl. Her eyes are heavy. Her entire body aches. Eventually, in a few days when she’s gone back to a somewhat normal sleep schedule, there’ll be enough nightmares to ruin her life.

But for now, her room is pleasantly cool, the light soft and low coming through the curtains. She listens to the sounds of the Wheeler house waking up. The quick patter of Holly’s feet, the clatter of pans and the low, murmured voices of Joyce and Jonathan making breakfast. It’s different, a little off from the usual sound of her mother in the kitchen, but it’s familiar enough that she still feels safe. She takes a slow breath and closes her eyes.

More quick, light footsteps on the stairs make her look up again.

Holly’s face peeks through the crack in her door a moment later. Her eyes widen when she sees Nancy already watching her.

“Hi. Uh. Sorry.” She smiles, a little nervous, but it vanishes immediately. “You just—you weren’t up yet.”

Nancy pushes herself up onto an elbow. She runs her hand through her hair, suddenly certain that it’s a disheveled mess, then stops. Holly’s seen her in worse.

“Yeah. I’m not sure I have it in me to run around much today.”

“Me either,” Holly agrees quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She hovers in the doorway, looking at Nancy and then glancing away. Her chin wobbles a bit, and Nancy can feel it in her chest—the way she grasps at bravery, forcing herself upright so she doesn’t end up leaning too heavily on whatever is around her.

She scoots over and peels the blanket back. “Want to be lazy together?”

Holly darts across the room without hesitation. She leaps onto the bed, tackling Nancy in a hug, and squirms down to lie there with her. Nancy tucks the blanket back up over her and settles down again.

Holly is out within minutes, and as soon as Nancy catches her slow, peaceful breathing, she knows she won’t be too far behind.

-

She isn’t great at staying asleep, even when she’s been running on nothing but coffee and adrenaline and an undeniable responsibility to keep going for days.

But when Nancy wakes a couple hours later, Holly is curled around her, clinging to her like a baby koala, all gangly limbs and tight Wheeler grip. Nancy melts a little. She strokes Holly’s hair and adjusts the blanket a little, and then she just stays there, head pressed to the pillow, watching her little sister for a while.

-

She doesn’t realize she’s drifted off again until she wakes to the kids’ voices downstairs.

The light is getting low, the November afternoon fading fast. Holly is still wrapped around her, a small, peaceful smile on her face.

Slow, unsteady footsteps draw her attention to the door. A moment later, she hears the softest knock against the wood.

“Yeah?” Nancy calls in a whisper. She keeps her arms still around Holly, who thankfully doesn’t stir.

The door eases open, revealing Max. She’s leaning heavily on the cane Lucas had dug out of his basement for her. Relief, gentle yet unbridled, crosses her face as she looks at the two of them.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I just—Mike said he hadn’t seen you and Holly all day, and I—”

“It’s okay.” Nancy smiles at her. “You conquered the stairs.”

“They’re like, way more exhausting than I remember.”

She is sweating, now that Nancy really looks at her. Her hand shakes around the cane, and she looks a little pale, though that’s sort of just how she looks after spending a year and a half in the hospital. Her gaze settles on Holly and lingers, soft and a little sad.

Nancy adjusts, pulling Holly gently closer to her to make room on the other side of the bed.

“If you want to take a break,” she says.

Max’s eyes flick to her, and she looks damn near about to cry. But she brushes her cheeks stubbornly and limps into the room. She sets the cane down carefully against the nightstand, then settles down onto the bed.

Holly stirs at the shift in weight. She lifts her head, blinking heavily.

“Hi, Max,” she mumbles. Then she lets go of Nancy and rolls over to wrap herself around Max instead.

Nancy bites back a laugh. “Guess you’re not allowed to leave.”

Max tries to scowl, but the look on her face is too soft to manage. She hugs Holly back. “I suppose I can stay for a little while.”

Holly tucks her head into Max, her grip loosening, falling back asleep immediately. Max gives up on trying to scowl and smiles down at her instead.

Nancy adjusts the blanket once again, tilts her pillow a little, and lays her head back down.