Kik51199

Chapter 020:

Word Count: 2,577

Here is the official end of season 2 and then we move to the in between chapters

A month had passed since the night Eleven closed the gate.

Long enough for things to change. Not long enough for them to feel distant.

Hawkins had settled into something that almost resembled normal again. The kind of normal people clung to when they didn’t want to look too closely at what had happened. The lab was shut down now—exposed after Nancy and Jonathan took their story to Murray Bauman and forced the truth out into the world. People talked about it in fragments, in careful, half-finished sentences. Then they stopped talking about it at all.

Some things were easier to leave buried.

Maya had gone to Barb’s funeral.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect—how you were supposed to stand there and mourn someone you barely knew, but who had still somehow become part of everything. But when she saw Barb’s parents, the grief on their faces softened by something that looked like closure, she understood.

That mattered.

Steve had stood beside her the entire time. Not saying much. Just… there. And for once, that had been enough.

———

Now, the cabin was quiet again.

Maya sat on the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, gently rocking her foot against the floor. Across from her, a blanket had been laid out, soft and worn.

Dani lay on her back in the middle of it, small hands reaching aimlessly into the air, fingers curling and uncurling as if she were trying to grab hold of something only she could see. A quiet babble escaped her—nonsensical, soft, completely content.

Maya watched her, a faint smile forming without thinking.

It was peaceful.

Too peaceful, sometimes.

Her gaze drifted down the hallway, settling on the closed door at the end.

El’s room.

She still wasn’t used to that either—someone else here, someone who carried so much with her without ever saying it out loud.

The sound of a truck pulling up outside broke the silence.

Dani’s head turned slightly at the noise, her small body shifting against the blanket, a curious little sound escaping her.

A second later, the front door opened.

Hopper stepped inside, bringing a gust of cool air with him. He paused just inside the doorway, like he was taking in the quiet before stepping fully into it.

“Hey,” he said, softer than usual.

Maya glanced up at him. “Hey.”

He shut the door behind him, brushing his hands together before walking further in. There was something tucked under his arm—an envelope.

He stopped near the blanket first, crouching slightly as Dani looked up at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

“Well, look at you,” he murmured, his voice dropping instinctively.

Dani kicked her legs in response, a small, happy sound bubbling out of her.

A ghost of a smile crossed his face before he stood again, turning to Maya.

“This came today,” he said, holding out the envelope.

Maya took it, immediately noticing the weight of it. Official. Government-issued. Important. She opened it carefully, pulling out the documents inside. Her eyes moved over the page— Then stopped. Jane Hopper. For a moment, everything else fell away.

“Jane…” she said quietly, like she was testing how it felt to say it.

Hopper shifted slightly. “Owen’s made it happen. Pulled whatever strings he needed.”

He hesitated, then added, “She’s got a record now. A life on paper.”

Maya looked back down at the name, her grip tightening just a little. Real. Safe.

A soft creak sounded from the hallway. Maya looked up. El stood there, just outside her room, watching. She hadn’t moved closer yet. Like she wasn’t sure if she should. Maya’s expression softened instantly.

“You knew?” she asked gently, lifting the paper slightly.

El shook her head.

“Just got it today,” Hopper said.

There was a pause. Then El stepped forward. Slow. Careful. Maya stood, meeting her halfway without hesitation. For a second, neither of them spoke. Maya just looked at her, really looked at her.

“Jane Hopper.” Maya says, A small smile touched her lips. “I guess that makes you my sister.”

El blinked, the word settling into place. Sister. Before the moment could stretch too far, a soft fussing sound came from the blanket. They both glanced down. Dani squirmed slightly, letting out a small, impatient noise.

Maya let out a quiet breath, crouching to pick her up. Dani settled quickly against her, tiny hand gripping onto Maya’s shirt.

El watched the interaction closely. Taking it in. Learning it. Maya adjusted Dani gently before looking back at El, her expression warm.

“You’ve already got a fan,” she said softly.

El hesitated, then stepped a little closer, her gaze fixed on Dani.

Slowly, carefully, she reached out—just brushing her fingers against Dani’s hand.

Dani’s tiny fingers curled instinctively around one of hers.

El froze.

Not pulling away.

Just… holding there.

Across the room, Hopper watched them, something quiet and relieved settling into his expression.

For the first time, it didn’t feel like something temporary.

It felt like a beginning.

The cabin fell quiet again.

But this time, it felt full.

⸻

It finally reached the night of the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball.

For most people, it was just a school dance.

For Dustin Henderson, it might as well have been the most important night of his life.

Maya sat on the Hendersons’ couch, one leg tucked under her, listening to chaos unfold somewhere deeper in the house.

Drawers opening. Closing. Footsteps rushing back and forth.

“Mom! Have you seen it?” Dustin’s voice echoed, slightly panicked.

“I don’t even know what it is!” Claudia called back.

Maya smiled faintly to herself, glancing toward the hallway.

She had no idea what he was looking for either—but whatever it was, it clearly mattered.

A moment later, Dustin sprinted past the living room, disappearing into the kitchen. Cabinets opened. Something shifted.

Then—

“Yes!”

He came barreling back through, clutching something in his hand.

Maya only caught a glimpse as he ran past—

A tall can. White and gold.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath.

Farrah Fawcett Hairspray.

She leaned back into the couch, shaking her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips.

A car horn beeped outside.

Right on cue.

Maya pushed herself up just as Dustin disappeared back into his room, the sound of hurried movement continuing behind the closed door.

“Dustin!” she called. “He’s here!”

“No one come in!” he shouted back immediately.

Maya let out a quiet laugh and headed for the door.

Somehow—she wasn’t entirely sure how—she ended up in the backseat of Steve’s car before Dustin had even made it outside.

Steve glanced over at her as she shut the door.

“Why are you back there?”

“Long story,” Maya said quickly, leaning forward between the seats. “And don’t say a word.”

Steve frowned. “About what?”

“When you see Dustin,” she said, pointing at him slightly, “don’t say a word. You’ll know why.”

Steve blinked, confused. “Okay…?”

Maya sat back, crossing her arms like she’d just set a very important rule into motion.

Steve muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue, turning his attention toward the house.

They waited.

Then the front door opened.

Dustin stepped out.

For a second, Steve didn’t even register the suit.

What he noticed—

Was the hair.

Perfectly sculpted. Lifted. Sprayed into place with absolute determination. Every strand locked in like it had something to prove.

Steve froze.

Maya watched his reaction from the backseat, already pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

Because it wasn’t bad.

It just…

Wasn’t Dustin.

It was Steve’s advice—taken completely seriously and pushed just a little too far.

Dustin walked across the yard like this was it. Like this was his moment.

Steve opened his mouth—

Then stopped himself.

Maya leaned forward slightly. “Don’t.”

Steve shut his mouth immediately, nodding once like he understood now.

Dustin reached the car, adjusting his jacket before opening the door.

“Alright,” he said, climbing in, trying to sound casual. “Let’s go.”

Steve glanced at Maya briefly.

Maya gave him a look: behave.

Steve nodded again, gripping the steering wheel.

“Yeah,” he said, starting the engine. “Let’s go.”

Maya sank back into her seat, a small smile forming.

Tonight mattered.

And for once—

No one was going to ruin it.

———

Steve pulled the car up outside the middle school gym, the building glowing with cheap colored lights that spilled out into the parking lot.

Kids were already gathering near the entrance, laughter and nervous energy hanging in the cold air.

He put the car in park and turned slightly in his seat.

“All right, buddy, here we are. So, remember, once you get in there—”

“Pretend like I don’t care,” Dustin cut in quickly, like he’d been rehearsing it.

Steve pointed at him. “You don’t care.”

“I don’t care.”

From the backseat, Maya pressed her palm to her forehead, staring down at the floor.

This again.

“There you go,” Steve said, nodding approvingly. “You’re learning, my friend. You’re learning.”

Dustin sat a little straighter at that, clearly taking it as a win.

Steve leaned closer, his tone shifting—less joking now, more intentional.

“Come on. You look great, okay? You look…” He paused, searching for the right words, even if Dustin didn’t notice. “You look great. Okay? Now you’re gonna go in there…”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, nodding.

“Look like a million bucks.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re gonna slay ’em dead.”

“Like a lion,” Dustin added, immediately following it with a low, strange growling sound.

Steve blinked. “Don’t do that, okay?”

“Okay.”

A beat.

“Good luck.”

There was a pause—small, but real.

“You’re going to do great, Dustin,” Maya added from the backseat, her voice softer, but steady.

Dustin glanced back at her for just a second, something quieter passing over his expression. Then he nodded once.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

He opened the door and stepped out into the cold.

For a moment, neither Maya nor Steve said anything. They just watched as Dustin adjusted his jacket, squared his shoulders, and started toward the gym.

He walked with purpose.

Like he believed it.

Or at least wanted to.

The doors closed behind him.

The noise faded.

Silence settled in the car.

Steve leaned back in his seat with a slow exhale, his hands resting on the steering wheel.

“So,” he said after a second, glancing toward the back, “you gonna sit up front now?”

Maya didn’t answer.

She just opened the door and stepped out, the cold air hitting her as she walked around the car.

A second later, she slid into the passenger seat and shut the door behind her.

Steve gave a small nod, like that was the only response he needed.

He started the engine.

The car pulled away from the curb, leaving the glow of the gym behind them.

The road stretched out ahead of them, empty and quiet, the glow of Hawkins fading further into the distance.

Steve drove without really thinking about where he was going. One hand rested loosely on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against it, like he needed something to do.

Maya sat beside him, her elbow propped against the window, chin resting against her hand as she watched the dark blur of trees pass by.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

It wasn’t awkward.

Just… unfamiliar.

Steve glanced over at her briefly before looking back at the road.

“How’s Dani?” he asked.

Maya shifted slightly, the question pulling her out of her thoughts.

“She’s good,” she said, a small smile forming without thinking. “Barely cries. Which Hopper keeps saying means we got lucky.”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“She’s starting to… notice things more,” Maya added. “Like she’ll just stare at you like she’s trying to figure you out.”

Steve nodded slightly, like he could picture it.

“She’s got a lot to figure out,” he said.

There was something softer in his voice when he said it.

Maya glanced at him, catching it.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “She does.”

A small silence settled again, but it felt warmer now.

Steve let out a breath through his nose. “Kinda weird, right?”

“What is?” Maya asked.

“Everything,” he said. “No monsters. No… upside-down whatever. No kids almost dying every five minutes.”

A pause.

“Just a dance.”

Maya huffed a quiet laugh. “Feels fake.”

“Right?” Steve said, nodding. “Like something’s gonna jump out any second and ruin it.”

“Don’t jinx it,” she muttered.

That earned a small smile from him.

They drove a little further before Steve slowed the car, pulling off near the edge of a quiet clearing. The trees opened just enough to reveal a wide stretch of sky above them.

He put the car in park, the engine still running softly.

Maya looked around. “This your big plan?”

“Hey,” Steve said, leaning back slightly, “I never said I had one.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Yeah, I’m full of those.”

A beat.

The faint sound of wind moved through the trees outside.

Maya shifted, turning more toward him now.

“Thanks,” she said.

Steve frowned slightly. “For what?”

“Dustin,” she said. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I did.”

She studied him for a second.

“You’re good with them,” she said quietly. “The kids.”

Steve let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta keep them alive.”

Maya smiled faintly.

“I’m serious,” she added. “You care. More than you let on.”

Steve looked down at the steering wheel, his fingers tightening slightly.

“I just… know what it’s like to feel like you don’t fit,” he said after a moment. “Didn’t really have someone looking out for me like that.”

Maya’s expression softened.

“You do now,” she said.

The words hung between them.

Steve looked up at her.

“Yeah,” he said softly.

Silence settled again—but heavier this time.

Maya glanced down at her hands.

“You ever think about what happens next?” she asked.

“All the time,” Steve said.

“And?”

He let out a breath. “Honestly? I got no idea.”

She smiled slightly. “Good. That makes two of us.”

Another pause.

Then Steve spoke again, more carefully.

“You know… when all that stuff was happening…” He trailed off. “I kept thinking—if we made it out, I’d actually say things instead of just… not.”

Maya looked at him, her brows knitting slightly.

“Say what?”

He met her eyes.

“Like this.”

The honesty in his voice caught her off guard.

“Steve…”

“I’m not trying to make it weird,” he said quickly. “I just—” He stopped, shaking his head. “I don’t know. You’re… you.”

She let out a small breath, almost laughing.

“That’s a terrible explanation.”

“I know,” he said, a faint smile forming. “I’m not great at this.”

Maya shook her head slightly.

“You think I am?” she said softly.

A beat.

“I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

That shifted everything.

Steve leaned a little closer.

“I do,” he said.

Maya held his gaze for a moment—searching.

Then, slowly, she closed the distance.

The kiss was soft. Careful. Like neither of them wanted to rush something they’d almost lost the chance to have.

When they pulled back, it wasn’t far.

Maya let out a quiet breath, a small, disbelieving smile forming.

“Well,” she murmured, “that happened.”

Steve huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah.”

Neither of them moved away.

Outside, the wind moved through the trees again.

And for once—

Nothing interrupted.

Taglist:

Chapter 019:

Word Count: 7,524

I refuse to believe this chapter is only 7k words, this one took me weeks to write and I was chopping it down thinking it was too long. I decided to make the dance a small chapter on its own so it isn’t apart of this chapter

The room falls completely silent.

No one breathes.

No one moves.

Everyone — except Hopper and Maya — thought Eleven was dead.

Gone.

Buried in grief and unanswered questions.

But here she is.

Standing in the doorway like she never left.

Mike is the first to move.

He rushes toward her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear again.

“I never gave up on you,” he says, voice shaking. “I called you every night. Every night for—”

“353 days,” Eleven says softly, cutting him off. “I heard.”

The words hit him like a wave.

His face crumples — relief, hurt, disbelief all tangled together.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” he asks. “That you were okay?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her,” Hopper answers before Eleven can.

All eyes snap to him.

He looks at Eleven now, anger mixing with fear.

“The hell is this? Where’ve you been?”

She steps forward slightly, chin lifting.

“Where have you been?” she shoots back.

The air shifts.

Mike turns on Hopper, fury blazing.

“You’ve been hiding her? You’ve been hiding her this whole time?!”

Hopper doesn’t respond fast enough.

Mike’s eyes move.

They land on Maya.

“And you,” he says, voice breaking. “You knew? You didn’t tell any of us? I thought you cared about us!”

The accusation slices through her.

She doesn’t argue.

Doesn’t defend herself.

She just lowers her head, guilt flooding her chest.

She had promised Hopper.

She had protected Eleven.

But that doesn’t make it hurt less.

“Hey!” Hopper snaps, stepping between them. “Let’s talk. Alone.”

His tone leaves no room for argument.

He gestures sharply toward the hallway.

Mike glares one last time before following him.

They disappear into one of the back rooms, the door shutting hard behind them.

The rest of the group stands frozen in the aftermath.

Maya finally looks up.

Eleven is watching her. Not angry. Not accusing. Just… watching. Like she understands. And somehow that almost makes it worse.

Even with the door shut, they can hear Mike yelling. Muffled shouting. Hopper’s deeper voice trying to stay controlled. No one comments on it. They’re too distracted by the miracle standing in the middle of the living room. Most of them are just… happy. Relieved. Staring at Eleven like she might vanish if they blink.

“We missed you,” Lucas says first, voice softer than usual.

“We talked about you pretty much every day,” Dustin adds, grinning at her.

Eleven steps closer to Dustin and reaches her fingers toward his mouth.

“Teeth,” she says.

“What?” Dustin blinks.

“You have teeth.”

“Oh!” He beams. “You like these pearls?”

He flashes an exaggerated grin and makes a weird clicking noise with his mouth.

Eleven jumps back slightly, startled.

Max steps forward carefully.

“Eleven?” she says gently. “Hey, um… I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Eleven looks at her. Says nothing. Then, without warning, she walks past Max and straight toward Maya. Maya doesn’t hesitate. They meet in the middle of the room.

“I missed you,” they both say at the same time.

They hug tightly. Maya rests her chin on the top of Eleven’s head, holding her like she’s afraid to let go.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Maya whispers.

Eleven squeezes her once more before pulling back. Then she moves toward Joyce immediately.

“Will?” she asks.

Joyce’s face crumples slightly as she nods and begins explaining.

Maya stays where she is, watching. Steve steps up beside her.

“So that’s Eleven, huh?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Maya says.

She suddenly remembers — Steve never actually met her last year. They’d only talked about her after she disappeared. He studies Eleven curiously, like he’s trying to understand how someone so small could be responsible for so much.

The bedroom door opens. Hopper and Mike walk back into the living room. Mike’s face is red. Hopper looks exhausted.

“It’s time to come up with a new plan,” Hopper says. “Now that we’ve got her.”

All eyes turn to Eleven.

“It’s not like it was before,” Hopper continues. “It’s grown. A lot. And that’s considering we can even get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demodogs,” Dustin corrects automatically.

Hopper stares at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, uh, Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs. You put them together, it sounds pretty badass—”

Maya mentally face-palms. Again.

“How is this important right now?” Hopper snaps.

“It’s not. I’m sorry.” Dustin immediately clamps his mouth shut.

“I can do it,” Eleven says. Everyone turns to her.

“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper replies.

“I’m hearing you,” she says firmly. “I can do it.”

Silence lingers for a beat.

“Even if El can,” Mike says carefully, “there’s still another problem.”

Nancy frowns. “What?”

“If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Nancy says.

“It is. But if we’re right about this — if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army…” Mike swallows. “Will’s a part of that army. Closing the gate will kill him.”

The words hang heavy in the air. Joyce’s breathing quickens.

“He likes it cold,” she mutters.

“What?” Hopper asks.

“It’s what Will kept saying to me. ‘He likes it cold.’ We keep giving it what it wants.”

Understanding slowly spreads across their faces.

“If this is a virus,” Joyce continues, “and Will’s the host, then…”

“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable,” Dustin finishes.

“So if he likes it cold…” Nancy says.

“We need to burn it out of him,” Mike says. “And we have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.”

There’s a pause. Hopper’s eyes shift. So do Maya’s. They look at each other. Same thought. The cabin. Everything moves quickly after that. Too quickly.

Hopper turns to Joyce immediately, slipping into command mode.

“You take Will to the cabin,” he tells her. “You keep him there. You don’t let him see anything familiar. We burn it out of him there. I’ll take El to the lab. We close the gate.”

Joyce nods, already grabbing her keys. Jonathan is at her side instantly.

Nancy and Steve head outside to drag the old space heaters out of storage. Metal scraping against concrete echoes through the quiet night.

The house feels smaller now. More fragile.

Maya watches Hopper move around the room, issuing instructions, loading a shotgun, checking ammo. She steps toward him before he can leave.

“Dad.”

He looks at her immediately.

“I can’t go with you,” she says quietly. “To the lab.”

He studies her face, searching for doubt.

“I’m staying here. With Steve. With the kids.”

It isn’t fear. It’s responsibility. He nods once.

“Okay.”

No argument. No questioning. Just trust.

Steve comes back inside, slightly out of breath, brushing dirt off his hands.

“Joyce and Jonathan are getting Will in the car,” he says. “Nancy went with them.”

Maya nods. She doesn’t miss the flicker in his eyes when he says Nancy’s name — but it isn’t what it used to be. It’s complicated. But it’s not romantic.

Hopper walks over to Eleven, kneeling slightly in front of her.

“You ready?” he asks. She nods. He stands, then turns to Maya. For a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at her. There’s so much he doesn’t say. ‘I should’ve protected you better. I’m proud of you. Be careful.’ He thinks. He pulls her into a tight hug instead. Maya closes her eyes and hugs him back just as tightly.

“Be safe,” she murmurs.

“You too, kid,” he says into her hair.

When he pulls away, his hand lingers on her shoulder for half a second longer than necessary. Then he turns. Eleven gives Maya one last look. A small nod. And then they’re gone. The door shuts behind them.

The house feels too quiet. Too empty.

Steve steps closer to Maya, lowering his voice.

“So,” he says softly, trying to lighten the tension, “guess we’re on babysitting duty.”

She lets out a shaky breath.

“Yeah.”

But neither of them feel like babysitters. They feel like the last line of defense. For five whole minutes, the house is quiet. The kind of quiet that feels temporary. Fragile.

Most of the kids are gathered in the living room, sitting stiffly, waiting for something else to go wrong. But not Dustin. Definitely not Dustin. No — he’s in the kitchen. With Steve. And they are making an alarming amount of noise. Cabinets slam. The fridge door opens and closes. Glass clinks. Maya follows the chaos. She steps into the kitchen and just stops. The fridge is wide open. Food is everywhere.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asks.

Dustin and Steve both turn toward her. Dustin looks at her like she’s the unreasonable one. Steve looks like a deer caught in headlights — clearly dragged into this against his better judgment.

“Preserving my scientific discovery,” Dustin says seriously.

“What?” Maya blinks.

Dustin continues clearing shelves out of the fridge, stacking containers on the counter without a second thought.

“Alright, it should fit now,” he declares.

Maya doesn’t even get a chance to ask what is supposed to fit. Steve disappears for half a second. He returns carrying a very dead demodog wrapped in a towel. Maya’s eyes widen.

“Oh my god.” She says

Steve awkwardly tries to shove the thing into the now-empty fridge.

“Is this really necessary?” he mutters.

“Yes, it is, okay? This is a groundbreaking scientific discovery! We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog!” Dustin insists.

“All right, all right, all right,” Steve says. “But you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right? Christ. Help me out.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Dustin demands.

“Get the door, man.”

“All right, I got the door.”

Dustin grabs the fridge handle and forces it closed while Steve shoves the creature in the rest of the way. The door finally seals with a suctioned thud.

“Ew. Jesus…” Steve mutters, staring at the slime coating his hands.

Maya stands back, arms folded. Internally laughing. It is, objectively, disgusting. But watching Steve reluctantly assist Dustin in stuffing a monster into a fridge like it’s leftover meat is… weirdly hilarious. Steve looks up at her.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she replies, biting back a smile.

“You’re judging me.”

“I absolutely am.”

Dustin points between them.

“History is going to thank me for this.”

“History is going to be confused why Mrs. Byers’ fridge smells like death,” Maya says.

Steve looks at her, then at Dustin. “She’s got a point.”

Dustin huffs.

“You guys have no respect for science.”

Maya shakes her head, still smiling despite everything. For a brief moment — just a small one — it feels almost normal. Almost.

Then the house creaks. And the reminder of what’s really happening settles back in. The three of them walk back into the living room.

Max, Lucas, and Mike are already there. Mike is pacing back and forth across the room like a caged animal.

“Mike, would you just stop already?” Lucas groans, practically begging him.

“You weren’t in there, okay, Lucas?” Mike snaps. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”

“Demodogs!” Dustin yells immediately from behind Maya.

Lucas rolls his eyes.

“The chief will take care of her,” Lucas says, trying to calm him, referring to Eleven.

“Like she needs protection,” Mike shoots back.

Steve sighs and steps forward, trying to mediate.

“Listen, dude. A coach calls a play in a game. Bottom line, you execute it. All right?”

Maya glances sideways at him. She can practically see the logic forming in his head. Hopper is the coach. They’re the players. Follow the plan. It’s actually kind of smart — Steve translating things into something he understands. Mike doesn’t appreciate it.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike snaps. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“So my point is…” Steve stammers. “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench. So, uh… there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin jumps in.

Everyone looks at him.

“I mean, these Demodogs — they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away. If we get their attention… maybe we can draw them away from the lab. Clear a path to the gate.”

Steve immediately shakes his head.

“Yeah. And then we all die.”

Maya nods slightly beside him. For once, Steve is absolutely right. Their job is to keep these kids alive. But she also understands the other side — the kids aren’t trying to be reckless. They’re trying to protect their friends.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin shrugs.

“No,” Steve says flatly. “That’s not a point of view, man. That’s a fact.”

Suddenly Mike’s eyes light up.

“I got it!”

Before anyone can react he sprints out of the room.

“Mike—” Lucas starts.

Too late. Everyone rushes after him. Mike runs straight to the wall where Will’s massive tunnel map covers the living room and dining room walls. He points to a spot.

“This is where the chief dug his hole,” Mike says quickly. “This is our way into the tunnel.”

He traces the lines on the map.

“So here — right here — this is like a hub. You got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire—”

“Oh yeah?” Steve cuts in. “That’s a no.”

Mike ignores him completely.

“The mind flayer would call away his army. They’d all come to stop us. We circle back to the exit.”

“Guys,” Steve says louder.

“By the time they realize we’re gone… El would already be at the gate.”

“Hey. Hey!” Steve snaps.

Still ignored.

“HEY!”

Everyone finally looks at him.

“This is not happening,” Steve says firmly. “No, no, no, no, no. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

He points toward the couch.

“We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job.”

He looks each of them in the eye.

“Does everybody understand?”

Mike crosses his arms. “This isn’t a stupid sports game.”

“I said does everybody understand that?” Steve repeats, voice firm. “I need a yes.”

Before anyone can answer—

An engine suddenly revs loudly outside the house. Everyone freezes. They all turn toward the front door. Maya feels her stomach drop. Something — or someone — has arrived.

“It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.” Max’s voice is sharp with panic.

Then— The music outside cuts off. Silence. Heavy.

Steve and Maya look at each other. They don’t need to say anything. Same thought. Same instinct. Protect the kids. They move at the same time.

⸻

The night air is cold when they step outside. Headlights cut across the yard. Billy leans against his car like he owns the place.

“Am I dreaming,” he says, straightening slowly, “or is that you, Harrington?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Steve replies. “Don’t cream your pants.”

Billy smirks, stepping closer.

“What are you doing here, amigo?” he asks.

Then his eyes slide to Maya.

“And you’re here with Maya Hopper… the slut of Hawkins High.”

Something in Maya tightens— But Steve snaps before she even can.

“Don’t call her that,” he says sharply. “In fact, don’t even look at her.”

Maya blinks. That… she didn’t expect.

“And I could ask you the same thing,” Steve adds. “Amigo.”

Maya can’t help the small smile that pulls at her lips.

Billy’s jaw tightens.

“I’m looking for my stepsister,” he says. “A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh,” Steve shrugs. “That’s weird. I don’t know her.”

“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Steve says easily. “Sorry, buddy.”

Billy tilts his head, eyes narrowing.

“You know… I don’t know, this whole situation, Harrington…” he mutters. “It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

Maya rolls her eyes slightly. Seriously?

“Oh yeah?” Steve says. “Why’s that?”

“My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day,” Billy says, stepping closer. “Then I find her with you. In a stranger’s house. And you lie to me about it.”

“Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?” Steve snaps. “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

Billy’s gaze flicks past them— Toward the house.

“Then who is that?”

Maya’s stomach drops.

“Oh, shit. Listen—”

Steve doesn’t even finish the sentence before Billy shoves him hard.

Steve hits the ground.

“I told you to plant your feet,” Billy says coldly, stepping toward the door.

Maya moves without thinking. She plants herself right in front of him. All five feet of her.

“Out of my way.” Billy snarls

“No.”

Her voice doesn’t shake. Billy looks at her like she’s nothing. Then he shoves her aside. She hits the ground hard, pain shooting up her side. The door slams behind him. For half a second, everything is still. Then—

“Shit,” she breathes, pushing herself up. She turns immediately, scrambling toward Steve.

“Steve! Steve!”

He groans, sitting up. They look at each other—

“Are you okay?” They say it at the same time.

“I’m okay,” Maya says quickly.

“Me too,” Steve replies.

But neither of them moves. For a second— They just… look at each other. Too close. Too aware. Steve’s expression softens, something unspoken flickering there. He leans in slightly— Like he’s about to do something he hasn’t thought through. Maya doesn’t even realize what’s happening. She just reacts.

She stands abruptly breaking the moment.

“We should get in there and help them,” she says quickly, reaching her hand out to him.

Steve blinks, snapping back to reality.

“Yeah,” he mutters, taking her hand.

She pulls him up. And just like that— The moment is gone. They both turn toward the house—Where chaos is already unfolding inside. They burst back inside and everything is already chaos. Billy has the kids backed into the corner of the living room.

“You’re so dead, Sinclair! You’re dead!” he yells.

“No,” Steve’s voice cuts through sharp and sudden. “You are.”

He steps forward and swings. His fist connects hard with Billy’s face. Billy stumbles, letting out a low groan.

“Steve!” Maya and Dustin shout at the same time.

Billy hunches over for a second— Then he starts laughing.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” he mutters. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

Steve doesn’t back down.

“Get out,” he says, stepping right into Billy’s space.

“Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!” Dustin yells from behind them.

“Get him!” Mike adds.

“Murder the son of a bitch!” Dustin shouts.

Maya barely registers the noise. Everything is moving too fast. Billy swings. Steve blocks, barely. The fight explodes. Fists. Shoving. Crashing into furniture. The sound of something breaking. Maya’s heart is in her throat. Then— CRACK. Billy smashes a plate over Steve’s head.

“Steve!” Maya yells—

And that’s it. She doesn’t think. She just moves. She lunges into the fight. Grabbing. Pulling. Trying to get Billy off him. It barely makes a difference. Billy doesn’t hesitate. He shoves her hard, striking back just as easily as he does Steve. The fight spills from the kitchen into the living room. All three of them tangled in it.

“Holy shit!” Mike shouts.

Billy gets Steve down. Pins him. Punch after punch— Steve’s head snaps back. Again. Again. Maya’s chest tightens in panic. She throws herself onto Billy’s back, trying to drag him off.

“Get off him!” she shouts.

It’s not enough. Not even close. Steve’s body goes slack. A horrible sound leaves his chest and then nothing.

“Steve!” Maya screams.

“You’re gonna kill him!” Dustin yells.

Billy reaches back, Grabs Maya and throws her off him like she weighs nothing. She hits the ground hard, air knocked from her lungs. Pain radiates through her side, her arms, everywhere. She tries to push herself up but she can’t. Everything feels heavy. Distant. Billy stands over them. Breathing hard.

“No one tells me what to do!” he snaps.

Maya blinks, trying to focus. Steve isn’t moving. Panic spikes through her. Then— A movement behind Billy. Max. She steps forward. And jabs a syringe straight into his neck. Billy freezes.

“The hell is this?” he slurs.

“You little shit—what did you do? What did you do?!”

His body starts to shake.

“Shit,” Mike breathes.

The sedative kicks in fast. Billy stumbles and drops to the floor. Max doesn’t hesitate. She grabs the nail bat. Raises it. For a second, it looks like she might actually swing.

“From here on out,” she says, voice shaking but strong, “you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

Billy glares up at her.

“Screw you.”

Max slams the bat down into the floor between his legs. The sound echoes through the room.

“Say you understand!” she screams. “Say it! Say it!”

Billy flinches.

“I understand.”

Then he goes limp. Unconscious. The bat clatters from Max’s hands. Silence.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says.

Maya groans from the floor. Pain pulses through her body, but she forces herself to move. To sit up. To breathe. Her head spins—but her mind is clear. They’re not stopping. She can’t stop them. And part of her… doesn’t want to. She looks over at Steve. Still. Unconscious. Her chest tightens.

“Steve…” she whispers, crawling toward him despite the pain.

She reaches him, shaking slightly, brushing hair back from his face with trembling fingers.

“Come on… don’t do this right now,” she mutters under her breath.

Behind her, the kids are already moving. Getting ready. Following the plan. Maya swallows hard. She’s in pain. She’s exhausted. She should stay here. She should rest. But she won’t. Not when they’re all walking straight into danger. Not when Steve is down. Not when this isn’t over. She presses a hand to the floor and slowly, painfully starts to push herself up.

“Give me a second…” she breathes.

Because whether she’s ready or not, She’s going with them. Maya refuses to leave Steve behind. There’s no argument, not really. The second someone suggests it, she shuts it down.

“We are not leaving him here,” she says, firm despite the pain in her voice. “Not with Billy. Not like this.”

The kids hesitate but they listen. Together, they haul Steve into the backseat.

⸻

“Wait,” Maya says once they’re all in. “Steve and I aren’t in any condition to drive. We can’t go anywhere.”

“I can drive,” Max says from the front.

Maya immediately shakes her head.

“I don’t agree with that—”

Too late. They’re already moving. Max and Lucas in the front. Mike, Dustin, Maya, and Steve crammed into the back. Steve is sprawled across all of them, unconscious weight pressing into Maya’s side. Every bump in the road sends pain shooting through her. She doesn’t complain. She just holds onto him.

⸻

About halfway there Steve stirs.

“Nancy?” he mumbles, barely conscious.

Maya freezes. Her chest tightens sharply. That one word. It cuts deeper than anything else tonight. Because she’s right here. Holding his hand. Making sure he’s breathing. And he still says her name. She swallows hard, pushing the feeling down. This is not the time.

Steve groans, reaching for his face.

“No, don’t touch it,” Dustin says quickly. “Hey, buddy… it’s okay. You put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a fight. You’re okay.”

Steve exhales shakily. Then everything clicks back into place.

“Maya!?” he blurts suddenly, panic cutting through the fog. “Is she okay?!”

Maya squeezes his hand tighter.

“I’m right here,” she says softly. “I’m alright.”

He exhales, tension leaving him just a little.

“Okay…”

From the front—

“You’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai,” Lucas says.

Steve frowns. “What’s going on?”

Then he looks up. Sees Max driving.

“Oh, my God!”

Maya almost laughs despite everything.

The kids immediately start arguing—Max defending herself, Lucas giving directions, Dustin chiming in—

Maya tunes it out. She focuses on Steve.

“It’s okay,” she says quietly. “Just breathe.”

“They were gonna leave you behind,” Dustin adds.

“Yeah,” Maya says, still holding Steve’s hand. “And I wouldn’t let that happen.”

Steve looks at her for a second, really looks, but the moment is broken by chaos again.

“Oh, my God!” he shouts. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—what’s going on?! Stop the car! Slow down!”

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max yells.

“Oh, wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left,” Lucas says.

“What?”

“Make a left!”

The car swerves hard. Everyone in the backseat slams together. An elbow drives straight into Maya’s side. She cries out sharply. Pain explodes through her.

“Whoa!” Dustin yells as the car jerks to a stop.

“I told you,” Max says. “Zoomer.”

Steve and Maya both groan.

⸻

They all pile out of the car. Except Maya. She stays in her seat, one hand clutched tightly to her side, breathing shallow. Outside, the others are already moving. Getting ready. Talking. Planning. She closes her eyes for a second. Just one second. Trying to steady herself. The door suddenly opens. A hand gently cups her face, lifting it.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Steve.

She leans into him immediately, pressing her face into his chest. He rests his head lightly against hers.

“I feel like I can’t move,” she admits quietly.

His eyes drop to where her hand is gripping her side.

“Show me,” he says softly.

She hesitates, then slowly lifts her shirt. A deep, angry bruise spreads across her ribs. Steve’s expression tightens just for a second before he smooths it over.

“It’s not that bad,” he lies gently.

Maya knows he’s lying. She can feel it.

“You’re not coming with us,” he says.

“I’m not letting you take care of those kids yourself,” she shoots back. “We promised.”

“You’re in too much pain.”

“Steve,” she says, pushing herself up despite the protest in her body, “I’m going.”

She steps out of the car, unsteady but determined.

“We are the babysitters. It’s our job.”

He watches her for a second then follows. Because he knows he’s not going to win that argument.

Dustin steps in front of Steve, handing him the nail bat.

“Steve, you’re upset, I get it,” he says seriously. “But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance. And it is our duty to provide that assistance.”

Steve blinks at him.

Dustin continues, unwavering. “I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So… keep us safe.”

Steve grips the bat. Nods once.

⸻

One by one, they climb down into the tunnel. Maya last. Slow. Careful. Every movement hurts.

“Holy shit,” Steve whispers once they’re all down there.

“Yeah,” Mike says. “I’m pretty sure it’s this way.”

“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin asks.

“I’m 100% sure. Just follow me and you’ll know.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—hey, hey, hey,” Steve cuts in, stepping forward. “I don’t think so.”

He points at them.

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit? From here on out, I’m leading the way.”

And just like that He takes charge. They start moving. Slowly. Carefully. Steve stays close to Maya, one arm steadying her, letting her lean on him like a crutch. She doesn’t argue this time. Doesn’t pretend she’s fine. Because she isn’t. But she’s still here. Still walking. Still fighting. And neither of them are letting the other fall.

The kids move through the tunnels with a mix of awe and pure disgust. The walls pulse faintly. Wet. Alive. Breathing.

“Guys, come on. Keep moving,” Steve says, voice low but firm.

They keep going. Step after step. The air gets thicker. Hotter. Harder to breathe.

Then. A scream.

“Shit! Help! Help! Help!”

Dustin.

Everyone spins around.

“Dustin!” Lucas shouts.

They all rush back. Steve pushes past everyone, moving first, faster.

“What happened?” he demands, crouching beside him.

Dustin is freaking out, wiping at his face.

“It’s in my mouth! Some got on my mouth! Shit!”

He spits, gagging.

“I’m okay.”

There’s a beat. Steve just stares at him.

“You serious?” he says flatly. “Very funny, man. Nice. Very nice.”

He stands, shaking his head.

“Jesus, what an idiot,” he mutters, already walking off.

Maya follows him, a small huff of breath leaving her despite everything. The others fall back in line behind them.

The tunnels seem endless. Twisting. Closing in. And with every step Maya feels worse. Her side burns. Every breath sharp. Every movement heavier than the last. But she keeps going. She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t slow them down. Steve notices. Of course he does. He keeps glancing back at her, checking. Making sure she’s still there. Still standing. Every time their eyes meet, she gives him a small nod. I’m okay. Even when she isn’t.

⸻

Eventually The tunnel opens up. An alcove. Branches splitting off in every direction like roots. Steve looks around.

“All right, Wheeler,” he says. “I think we found your hub.”

Mike steps forward immediately.

“Drench it.”

They move fast. Pouring gasoline over the walls, the floor, the thick, pulsing vines. The smell is overwhelming. Sharp. Dangerous.

Once it’s done, they all retreat back into the tunnel they came from, crowding together. Too close. Too tense. Waiting.

“Light her up,” Dustin says.

Steve flicks the lighter once— twice— then tosses it. It lands. Then fire erupts. It spreads fast. Hungry. Crawling along the tunnels like it’s alive. Steve stares at it for half a second, then exhales.

“I am in such deep shit.”

Maya can’t help it, She smiles. Even now. Even here.

Then Steve snaps back into action.

“Go! Go, go, go!”

He starts pushing them forward.

“Move! Move!”

The fire roars behind them. The tunnels react. Shaking. Screeching. Alive. They run. Or at least— They try to.

Maya stumbles, pain flaring violently through her side. Steve is there instantly.

“Hey—hey—come on,” he says, grabbing her, keeping her upright.

She leans into him without arguing now. No pretending. Just surviving.

The kids rush ahead, panic fueling them. Behind them The fire spreads faster. The tunnels scream. And whatever lives inside them, Feels it.

They reach the spot where Dustin fell And stop dead. A Demodog blocks the path. Low. Growling. Tense. It steps forward slightly And the light catches it. Yellow markings.

Dart.

“Shh. Stop,” Dustin whispers.

“Dustin, get back,” Max says immediately.

“Trust me, please.”

Before anyone can stop him, He steps forward. Alone. Maya’s breath catches.

“Dustin…” she whispers under her breath.

Steve tenses beside her, ready to grab him if this goes wrong.

“Hey,” Dustin says softly. “It’s me. It’s me. It’s just your friend. It’s Dustin, all right? You remember me?”

Dart snarls. Everyone flinches.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Dustin rushes. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do.”

No one moves. No one breathes.

“You hungry? Yeah?”

“He’s insane,” Lucas mutters.

“Shut up,” Steve snaps quietly, eyes locked on Dart.

Don’t spook it. Don’t ruin this.

Dustin slowly pulls something from his pocket.

“I’ve got our favorite,” he says gently. “See? Nougat. Look at that. Yummy.”

Maya blinks. Seriously?

“Here, all right? Eat up, buddy. Come on… come on.”

He tosses the chocolate bar. It lands. Dart pauses. Sniffs. Eats.

The tension breaks just slightly. Dustin steps back slowly.

“Let’s go,” he whispers.

“Goodbye, buddy.”

Steve doesn’t waste a second.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” he urges, waving everyone forward.

They move. Fast. Careful.

Then—

Growling. Not just one. Many. Behind them.

“They’re coming!” Mike shouts. “Run! Run!”

They run. No hesitation now. No holding back.

Steve and Maya fall to the back of the group automatically. Protecting. Watching. Making sure every kid gets out first. Maya’s side screams with every step. Her breathing turns uneven but she doesn’t stop. She won’t stop.

“There! There!” Lucas shouts.

The rope.

Finally.

Hope.

Steve grabs it, shoving the kids toward it.

“Go! Go! Come on!”

One by one, They climb. Hands grabbing. Feet scrambling.

“Come on! Hurry up!” voices overlap, panicked and loud.

Maya braces herself against the wall, trying to stay upright. The sounds behind them get closer. Louder. Too close.

Soon,It’s just three of them left.

Steve.

Maya.

Dustin.

“Oh, shit,” Dustin breathes.

Steve grabs him, trying to push him up.

“Go! Go!”

“No!” Dustin clings to the rope. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Dustin—”

The screeching is right there now. Around the bend. Seconds away. There’s no more time. No more options.

Steve looks at Maya. Maya looks at him. And then, They both pull Dustin in. The three of them wrap around each other. Holding tight. Waiting For it to end. Maya squeezes her eyes shut, pressing into Steve.

This is it.

But then. Nothing. No impact. No pain. The sounds rush past them.

They open their eyes. The Demodogs don’t stop. They run straight past. Like they aren’t even there. Like something else matters more. The three of them just stare. Breathing hard. Alive.

“Go,” Steve says, voice shaky. “Go, go, go.”

This time Dustin climbs. Fast. Then Maya. Slower. Every movement hurts, but she forces herself up. Steve right behind her.

And then They’re out.

⸻

Cold air. Real air. Silence. The good kind. They made it. They all made it. Maya stands there for a second, trying to process it. Everyone’s alive. Then she looks at Steve. Wow. He didn’t die. A shaky breath leaves her.

She walks straight over to him and hugs him. Tight. No hesitation. No holding back. Steve freezes. Hands hovering awkwardly in the air. Surprised. Eventually. He melts into it. Wrapping his arms around her. Pulling her close. Resting his head gently against hers. Neither of them move. For a moment. Everything else disappears. No monsters. No fear. Just this. Just them. They stay like that longer than they should. Not long enough. Maya finally exhales softly.

“I need to go to Eddie’s,” she says quietly, still holding onto him.

Steve stills. Just slightly. Like something cracks. After everything, That’s where she wants to go.

“I need to see Dani,” she adds, barely above a whisper.

And it clicks. Of course. Her daughter. Steve’s grip softens. His thoughts settle.

“Hey…” he says gently. “How about we take the kids back to the Byers’ first—”

He pulls back just enough to look at her.

“Then I’ll take you to get her. We can grab your car too—get the car seat.”

Maya nods against his chest. A tear slips down her cheek. She doesn’t wipe it away.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

And for once She lets herself lean on him. Just a little longer.

———

The drive back to the Byers’ house is quieter this time. Not silent—but quieter. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving behind exhaustion, shaky breaths, and the kind of silence that comes after something you don’t fully know how to process yet. The kids talk in small bursts—Dustin rambling about Dart, Lucas arguing back, Max chiming in—but it’s softer now. Like they’re all running on empty.

Maya sits in the passenger seat, her head resting lightly against the window. Every bump in the road sends a dull ache through her side, but she ignores it. Steve drives beside her, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally hovering near her arm like he wants to check she’s still there—but doesn’t quite know how.

When they pull up to the Byers’ house, the porch light is still on. Safe. Steve parks, and the kids pile out, slower this time. No rushing. No shouting. Just tired relief.

“Everyone inside,” Steve says, slipping back into that protective tone like second nature. “Go, go.”

They listen. Maya watches them go, making sure each one gets through the door before she even thinks about moving. Old habits. Protective instincts. She doesn’t realize Steve is doing the exact same thing beside her. When the last kid disappears inside, she exhales.

“They’re okay,” Steve says quietly.

“Yeah,” she nods. “They are.”

There’s a pause.

Then she turns to him. “Eddie’s.”

Steve nods immediately, already reaching to start the car again. “Yeah.”

⸻

The second drive is even quieter. No kids. No chaos. Just the low hum of the engine and the soft glow of passing streetlights. Maya feels heavier now. The adrenaline is completely gone, replaced by exhaustion and the lingering pain in her side. She keeps her arms folded loosely over herself, like she’s holding everything together.

Steve glances at her a few times.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks finally.

She nods, even though it’s not entirely true. “I just… need to see her.”

“That’s fair,” he says softly.

He doesn’t push. He just drives.

⸻

They pull up outside Eddie’s trailer, the place quiet and dim. Maya is already unbuckling her seatbelt before the car fully stops.

“I’ll be right back,” she says.

Steve nods. “Take your time.”

She hesitates for half a second—like she might say something more—but then she just gives him a small, grateful look and heads inside.

The trailer is warm. Softly lit. Quiet.

The second Maya steps in, the familiar smell hits her—home, in a way she didn’t expect to miss this much.

Eddie is sitting on the couch, exactly where she half-expected him to be. A blanket draped over his lap, one hand resting protectively over Dani, who’s curled against his chest, fast asleep.

He looks up the moment the door closes.

“Maya—” he starts, immediately sitting up straighter. “Jesus, I was—”

He had t seen her in days. He stops when he really looks at her. The bruises. The exhaustion. The way she’s holding herself.

His expression shifts instantly. “What happened?”

Maya doesn’t answer right away. She just walks over, slow and careful, like if she moves too fast everything might fall apart.

“Is she okay?” she asks quietly, eyes already on Dani.

Eddie softens immediately, glancing down at the baby. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s good. Slept most of the night, every night. Ate like a champ.” He gives a small, relieved smile. “Didn’t even cry.”

Maya lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Can I—?” she asks, gesturing gently.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie says, already carefully shifting Dani into her arms.

The moment Dani is against her, Maya melts.

She pulls her close—too close, almost—burying her face into her hair, holding her like she needs to prove she’s real, that she’s safe, that she’s here.

Dani stirs slightly but doesn’t wake.

Maya’s eyes close.

And just like that, everything else—the tunnels, the fear, the fighting, the pain—fades into the background.

“She’s okay,” Maya whispers, more to herself than anyone else.

Eddie watches her carefully.

“You’re not,” he says gently.

Maya lets out a small, breathless laugh. “I will be.”

He stands, stepping closer, his voice quieter now. “Did someone do this to you?”

She shakes her head. “Just… a lot of things at once.”

He doesn’t look convinced—but he doesn’t push.

Instead, he reaches out, hesitating just slightly before brushing his fingers carefully along her arm. “You scared me,” he admits.

Maya looks up at him then.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says quickly. “Not for that.”

There’s a beat. Then Eddie glances toward the door. “You didn’t walk here, did you?”

“Steve drove me.”

There’s a flicker of something in Eddie’s expression—something quick and unreadable but it’s gone just as fast.

“Of course he did,” Eddie says, nodding once. Not bitter. Just… acknowledging.

Maya adjusts Dani slightly in her arms, still holding her close.

“I should probably get her home,” she says softly.

Eddie nods, but there’s a quiet reluctance there. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

He grabs the small bag Maya left earlier, handing it to her without being asked.

“She’s got everything in there,” he says. “Bottles, blanket… the shirt I got her too.”

Maya smiles faintly. “The Hellfire one?”

“Obviously,” he says, a hint of his usual grin returning. “Gotta represent.”

She laughs softly—tired, but real.

“Thank you,” she says, meeting his eyes.

“For what?”

“For… this,” she gestures between him and Dani. “For taking care of her.”

Eddie shrugs, suddenly a little shy again. “Anytime, I mean, I am her dad, it was nice just being the two of us for a while, hasn’t really happened before, it’s usually the three of us.”

Maya lingers for just a second longer. Then she turns and heads for the door, Dani still held tightly against her chest.

When she steps outside, Steve is still there. Leaning against the car. Waiting. He straightens immediately when he sees her and then his shoulders visibly relax when he spots Dani safe in her arms.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey.” Maya walks over, adjusting Dani slightly as she reaches the car.

Steve opens the door for her without a word. She pauses before getting in.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

He shrugs a little. “Told you I’d get you here.”

She gives him a small, tired smile—and this time, it lingers just a little longer. Then she gets in the car, Dani safe in her arms. And for the first time all night, Maya finally feels like she can breathe.

Steve drives to the cabin. The drive quiet, no words spoken, none need to be said.

Steve looks towards Maya. She is still awake, just holding tightly onto Dani in her arms. They didn’t end up picking up her car but they figured if they got pulled over then well her dad is the chief of police he’ll deal with it.

Maya directs him down the dirt road to the cabin and he pulls up outside.

“You ok to get out or do you need help?” He asks her

“I’m ok” she says “do you want to come in?” She asks quietly.

Steve begins nodding, his mouth not able to move in that moment until a quiet yeah escapes his lips.

He jumps out and runs to her door before she can even open it and grabs Dani from her so she can get out, once she’s out he hands Dani back to her knowing she’s not going to want to let go, especially after what they had all been through and the fact the she hadn’t seen her for a few days.

Maya opens the front door with one arm. Hopper and eleven not home yet. She walks to her room and Steve follows behind her.

She lays down on her bed with Dani still held close. She gestures her head to Steve and tells him to join her.

He stands at the door hesitant. Did she just ask him to get into bed with her?

He slowly makes his way to her bed and lays down. He wraps his arm over the two girls hesitantly.

“Is this ok?” He asks

“Steve” maya says sternly “just hold me” she adds

He gets the all clear and holds them both tighter.

It’s not like they are doing anything wrong. They aren’t under the covers together and her bedroom door is still open so that if hopper gets home he doesn’t go crazy. Well last not as crazy as he would if she had a boy in her bed with the door closed.

They both fall asleep. The baby laying between them.

———

The cabin is quiet when they arrive. Too quiet.

Hopper pushes the door open slowly, Eleven just behind him, both of them still carrying the weight of everything they’d just done—the gate, the heat, Will screaming—

—but it all fades the second Hopper’s eyes land down the hallway.

Maya’s door.

Slightly open.

A sliver of warm light spilling out.

He frowns, noticing the unfamiliar car outside finally clicking into place in his mind. His grip tightens for half a second—protective instinct kicking in—but he doesn’t rush.

He just walks.

Slow. Careful.

He reaches the door and nudges it open just enough to see inside

And stops.

Maya is asleep on her bed.

Dani tucked safely against her chest.

And Steve…

Steve Harrington is right there beside them.

One arm wrapped around both of them like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His head tilted slightly toward Maya’s, his body angled protectively without even realizing it. Still asleep. Still there.

Not moving. Not taking advantage. Not anything.

Just… staying.

Hopper watches for a long moment.

Longer than he means to.

There’s a dozen reactions he could have.

Yell.

Drag Steve out by the collar.

Make a whole speech about doors and daughters and teenage boys.

But none of that comes.

Because what he actually sees isn’t trouble.

It’s safety.

Maya—his little girl, who hasn’t really been a little girl in a long time—is finally sleeping without tension in her face. No stress. No fear. No weight pressing down on her.

And Dani?

Safe. Warm. Protected.

And Steve…

Hopper exhales quietly.

The kid looks like he’d take on the whole world for them.

Hell—he already has.

Behind him, Eleven lingers in the hallway, watching silently.

She tilts her head slightly, studying the scene the same way Hopper is—but without all the complicated thoughts. To her, it’s simple.

“They’re safe,” she says softly.

Hopper glances back at her.

Then back into the room.

“…Yeah,” he mutters. “They are.”

He steps forward just enough to gently pull the door in closed a little—

but not all the way.

Leaving it open three inches.

I really love the end of this chapter. Their little moments 🥰

I thought about their first kiss being in the tunnel when they think they’re going to die, but I’ve also thought about it happening in so many other places so I don’t know when it will be. I also don’t want it to drag out too much longer. What do you guys think?

Taglist:

Chapter 018:

Word Count: 4,046

Sorry this update took so long, I’ve been really busy and the next chapter for the final episode took so much out of me, it’s probably the biggest chapter yet, so just hold out for next chapter

They walk back down the tracks the same way Steve, Maya, and Dustin had come earlier that day, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and unease.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, finally breaking the heavy silence.

“Yes,” Dustin says quickly. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“He was tiny two days ago,” Lucas presses.

“Well, he’s molted three times already,” Dustin replies.

“Malted?” Steve asks, glancing over.

“Molted,” Dustin corrects. “Shed his skin to make room for growth. Like hornworms.”

Maya barely hears them. Her chest feels tight, thoughts drifting miles away—to Dani, asleep in Eddie’s trailer, to how long it’s been since she last held her. One night already feels like too much.

“When’s he gonna molt again?” Max asks.

“It’s gotta be soon,” Dustin says grimly. “When he does, he’ll be fully grown. Or close to it. And so will his friends.”

Maya instinctively steps closer to Steve, shoulder brushing his arm. She doesn’t notice the way he subtly shifts to keep her there—like he’s anchoring her without thinking about it.

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, staring down the tracks, “and he’s gonna eat a lot more than just cats.”

Maya’s head snaps toward him.

He shouldn’t have said that.

“Wait—what?” Lucas says sharply. “A cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No! What? No,” Dustin says too fast.

“What are you talking about?” Lucas demands.

“He ate Mews,” Steve says, like it’s obvious.

“Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max asks.

“It’s Dustin’s cat,” Steve answers.

“STEVE!” Dustin and Maya shout at the same time.

“I knew it!” Lucas yells. “You kept him!”

“No! No, no, no—I—he missed me,” Dustin stammers. “He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit!” Lucas snaps.

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?” Dustin yells back.

That’s when Maya checks out.

She can’t listen to this. Not now.

She steps away, just far enough to breathe, but still close enough to see them. The forest feels heavier here, darker. Steve notices immediately, eyes tracking her, making sure she doesn’t wander too far.

Maya presses her arms around herself.

This can’t be happening again, she thinks. Not again.

Then she hears it.

A low, distant growl.

Her heart stutters.

Behind her, Dustin and Lucas are still arguing.

“Your stupid pet could’ve eaten us for dinner!” Lucas shouts.

“That was not my fault!” Dustin fires back.

“Guys?” Maya says, backing slowly toward them, eyes locked on the trees.

“He wasn’t gonna eat us!” Dustin insists.

“Oh yeah? He was crawling over to say hello?” Lucas snaps.

“GUYS!” Maya yells.

They finally look at her.

The growling rises again—closer now. Louder. Wrong.

They all turn toward the sound without thinking.

“No, no, no—hey, guys,” Max says nervously, hurrying after them. “Why are we heading toward the sound?”

No one answers.

They push through the trees until they reach a small rise overlooking part of the woods.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin says.

Lucas squints into the distance. “It’s the lab.”

Maya’s stomach drops.

“They’re going back home,” she says quietly.

The growling echoes again, deeper now, moving away—but in a direction none of them wanted.

Toward Hawkins Lab.

No one speaks.

They don’t have to.

They all know what that means.

They start down the hill, Steve and Maya instinctively taking the lead. Steve keeps glancing back over his shoulder, counting heads, making sure no one drifts too far behind. Maya does the same, her eyes constantly flicking between the trees and the kids, her nerves stretched tight.

The lab looms closer, that ugly concrete shape cutting through the woods like it doesn’t belong—which it doesn’t.

As they near the perimeter, voices carry through the trees.

“Who’s there?”

The group freezes.

Then they step out from the tree line and see them—Jonathan and Nancy, standing at the lab’s gate, the chain rattling softly in Jonathan’s grip. The fence blocks them from getting any closer.

“Steve?” Nancy and Jonathan say at the same time, disbelief clear in both their voices.

“What are you guys doing here?” Maya asks, heart pounding.

Nancy gestures toward the lab. “We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

Dustin’s face drains of color. “They’re not in there… are they?”

“We don’t know,” Nancy says. “Why?”

Before anyone can answer, a sharp, inhuman screech tears through the night air, echoing off the concrete walls of the lab.

Everyone jumps.

Maya’s blood turns cold.

“That’s why,” she says quietly.

The silence that follows is worse than the noise.

Now they’re all worried—really worried.

Dustin squeezes into the security booth with Jonathan, the two of them immediately going at the controls like they know what they’re doing—Dustin talking a mile a minute, Jonathan scanning switches and panels.

Nancy hovers just outside the booth, tense, chewing on her thumbnail.

Steve and Maya stay back with Lucas and Max, standing just beyond the gate, eyes locked on the lab. The place feels wrong at night—too quiet, too alive at the same time.

Everyone’s exhausted. Running on adrenaline and borrowed time.

Maya, though, feels something else creeping in.

Lost.

Her thoughts spiral the second she lets them.

Is Dani okay with Eddie?

What if she wakes up and I’m not there again?

Now that Nancy’s here… Steve’s probably going to go back to her.

That’s how it always goes.

She swallows, hugging her arms around herself. For a moment, she feels twelve again—standing on the outside, watching everyone else choose someone who isn’t her.

She doesn’t notice Steve’s expression shift. The way his jaw tightens. The way his eyes keep flicking to her, checking in, worried. Worried about her, not Nancy. Not the lab. Her.

“The power’s back!” someone shouts from the booth.

Lights flicker on along the fence, the hum of electricity buzzing through the air.

Inside the booth, Dustin loses his mind. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes—come on, come on!”

With a heavy metallic groan, the gate begins to slide open.

“That’s it!” Dustin yells.

Nancy and Jonathan don’t hesitate. They sprint for the car, doors slamming, tires spitting dirt as they tear up the road toward the lab.

The rest of them are left behind at the gate, watching the red taillights disappear into the darkness.

Waiting.

And somehow, that’s the hardest part.

They stand there, waiting.

And waiting.

It can’t have been more than a few minutes, but time stretches weird when you’re scared—every second dragging like it’s daring something awful to happen.

Then—

A horn blares.

Headlights cut through the trees, fast and blinding.

“Whoa—!” someone shouts as the group scrambles out of the way just in time for a car to tear past them—Nancy and Jonathan, faces pale, eyes locked forward.

Another set of headlights follows immediately behind.

The car skids to a stop.

Hopper.

He leans across the seat, window already down.

“Get in!” he shouts.

No one argues.

The kids pile into the back in a tangle of limbs and breathless panic. In the chaos, Maya barely registers what’s happening until she’s half-pushed, half-falling into the front seat—

Right onto Steve’s lap.

There’s no time to fix it. Hopper guns the engine before the door even slams shut, the tires spitting gravel as they take off.

Maya freezes for half a second, mortified.

Steve’s hands instinctively come up to steady her—light, careful, like he’s afraid of startling her. He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps her from sliding as the car jolts forward.

The space is too small. Too close.

She can feel his heartbeat through his chest. Fast. Steady. He smells like gasoline and sweat. His knee bumps hers with every turn.

Neither of them moves.

No one speaks.

The car tears through the dark, engine roaring, tension thick enough to choke on. Even the kids in the back are silent now, pressed together, listening.

When Hopper finally pulls up outside the Byers’ house, the car slows—but no one says a word.

No one breathes.

The night isn’t over yet.

No one knows what to do once inside.

The house feels too small for the amount of fear packed into it. The air is thick, heavy with mud, sweat, and something worse — grief.

They’d all heard it.

Bob Newby was dead.

Killed by a demodog.

The words don’t feel real. They float somewhere above Maya’s head, disconnected from everything else. Bob had been kind. Gentle. The kind of adult who tried. And now he was just… gone.

Steve moves closer without thinking. Not dramatic. Not obvious. Just enough that their shoulders brush.

Maya doesn’t question it.

She feels safer near him.

They stand in the corner of the living room, half in shadow, watching everything unravel around them. Joyce is barely holding herself together. Jonathan stands stiff and hollow-eyed beside her. Nancy looks like she’s trying to stay strong for everyone else, but her hands won’t stop shaking.

Hopper paces like a caged animal, phone pressed to his ear.

“Sam Owens. Dr. Sam Owens. I don’t know how many people are there! I don’t know how many people are left alive! I am the police! Chief Jim Hopper! Yes, the number that I gave you, yes. 6767… I will be here.”

He slams the phone down harder than necessary.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin asks quietly.

Hopper doesn’t answer right away. His jaw tightens.

“They’ll be here,” he mutters finally, though it doesn’t sound certain.

Silence settles again.

Maya wraps her arms around herself. The exhaustion is starting to hit now — that deep, bone-heavy kind that makes everything feel unreal. Her thoughts drift again.

Dani.

Is she sleeping? Did Eddie read her a story? Is she asking where Mommy is?

Her chest tightens.

Steve notices.

“You okay?” he asks softly, leaning down so only she can hear.

She nods automatically.

He doesn’t look convinced.

“You’re thinking about Dani,” he says.

It isn’t a question.

Maya swallows. “I’ve been gone two nights.”

“She’s safe,” he says immediately. Firm. Certain.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His voice lowers. “Because if anything happened, Eddie would’ve called. And he didn’t. Which means she’s fine.”

She studies his face. He believes what he’s saying.

And somehow that helps.

Across the room Nancy glances over. Just for a second. Her eyes flick between them — the way they’re standing close, the way Steve’s body angles toward Maya without him even realizing it.

Maya notices.

Her stomach twists. Here Maya is, leaning into her boyfriend like she belongs there.

She steps slightly away.

The movement is small, but Steve feels it instantly. His brow furrows.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says quietly.

“Do what?”

“Pull away.”

Her throat tightens. “Steve…”

He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not with Nancy right now.”

The words hang between them.

Not with.

Not anymore?

Maya doesn’t dare ask.

Hopper’s eyes scan the room again, counting heads like he’s done a thousand times before.

Joyce. Jonathan. Nancy. The kids.

Steve.

Maya.

His gaze lingers on her.

She’s standing straighter than she should be. Calm in a way that doesn’t match the chaos around them. One hand still loosely wrapped around Steve’s, the other resting protectively over her own stomach like she’s holding herself together from the inside.

She looks strong.

Too strong.

A strength she shouldn’t have needed.

Hopper’s chest tightens.

He was supposed to protect her from this kind of world. From monsters. From fear. From growing up too fast.

But after Sara died… he’d fallen apart. Drowned himself in grief and bourbon and silence. And while he was busy surviving his own loss, Maya had been surviving hers — alone.

He missed birthdays. School meetings. The quiet signs that she was carrying more than she should.

And now she’s grown.

She has friends.

People who would fight for her.

And a daughter.

His jaw clenches slightly at that thought.

Dani.

Thank God she left Dani with Eddie.

Hopper almost scoffs at himself. The only time he’s ever been thankful for that boy. But he can’t deny it — Eddie has been steady. Protective. Surprisingly dependable.

Still.

Maya shouldn’t have to be this brave.

She shouldn’t have to stand in a room like this, after hearing about a man being torn apart, after fighting monsters in a junkyard, and look like she’s the one holding everyone else together.

Hopper steps closer.

“Maya.”

She looks up immediately. “Yeah?”

He studies her face — searching for cracks. For fear. For the little girl who used to run to him when thunderstorms hit.

He doesn’t see her.

He sees a mother.

“You did good tonight,” he says gruffly.

She blinks, surprised. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“You kept your head. That’s more than most.”

There’s a beat.

Something softer passes through his eyes, but he buries it before it shows too much.

“You don’t gotta be the strong one all the time,” he adds, quieter.

Her expression shifts — just slightly. Like the comment hit somewhere deeper than he meant it to.

“I’m okay,” she says.

He nods, even if he doesn’t fully believe it.

Across the room, Steve watches the exchange. He sees the way Hopper looks at her — not just as the police chief. Not just as a guardian.

As a father.

And something protective sparks in Steve’s chest too.

The house creaks.

Another distant, echoing screech rolls through the night.

Maya instinctively moves closer to Steve.

And this time—

He steps closer to her first.

The creek was just the footsteps of Dustin walking into the room.

“We have a plan” he says.

The group surrounds the kitchen table, tension thick in the air.

Dustin slams the Dungeons & Dragons guidebook down so hard it rattles the plates.

“We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own,” he says.

“Demodogs?” several voices echo at once.

“Demogorgon dogs. Demodogs. It’s like a compound. It’s like a play on words… Okay? I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…” Dustin explains quickly.

“But there’s an army now,” Mike cuts in.

“Precisely,” Dustin nods.

“His army,” Mike adds.

Hopper frowns. “What do you mean?”

“His army. Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too. The shadow monster. It got Will that day on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus — it infected him.”

“And so this virus,” Hopper says slowly, “it’s connecting him to the tunnels?”

“To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down — everything,” Mike answers.

“Whoa. Slow down,” Hopper says, rubbing his temples. “Okay, so the shadow monster’s inside everything?”

“And if the vines feel something like pain,” Mike continues, “then so does Will.”

“And so does Dart,” Dustin adds. “Yeah. Like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive mind.”

“Hive mind?” a few of them repeat.

“A collective consciousness,” Dustin says, flipping open the book. “It’s a superorganism. And this thing that controls everything? It’s the brain. Like the mind flayer.”

Maya understands immediately. Of course he’s using the game. It’s the only framework he has that makes sense of something this insane.

“The what?” Max asks.

“The mind flayer,” Dustin repeats.

“What the hell is that?” Max presses.

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. So ancient it doesn’t even know its true home. It enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers.”

“Oh my God,” Hopper mutters. “None of this is real. This is a kids’ game.”

“No, it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids. And unless you know something we don’t, this is the best metaphor—”

“Analogy,” Lucas corrects.

“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is,” Dustin snaps.

Nancy exhales shakily. “Okay… so this mind flamer thing…”

“Flayer. Mind flayer,” Dustin corrects automatically.

“What does it want?” Nancy asks.

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race,” Dustin says.

“Like the Germans?” Steve blurts.

Maya mentally face-palms.

What an idiot.

A cute idiot… but still.

“The Nazis?” Dustin exclaims.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. The Nazis,” Steve backtracks, slightly embarrassed.

“If the Nazis were from another dimension, totally,” Dustin says. “It views other races — like us — as inferior. It wants to spread. Take over other dimensions. We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.”

“That’s great. That’s really great. Jesus!” Hopper snaps. “Okay. So if this thing is like a brain controlling everything, then if we kill it—”

“We kill everything it controls,” Dustin finishes. “We win. Theoretically.”

“Great. So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with Fireballs or something?” Hopper says sarcastically.

“No. No Fireballs,” Dustin says with a nervous little laugh. “You summon an undead army, because zombies don’t have brains and the mind flayer, it… it… It likes brains. It’s just a game. It’s a game.”

“What the hell are we doing here?” Hopper bursts out. “I thought we were waiting for your military backup.”

“We are!” Hopper shouts back when Mike challenges him.

Suddenly everyone is talking over each other. Voices rise. Accusations. Fear. Frustration.

Maya’s chest tightens.

It’s too loud.

Too chaotic.

She backs away slowly, retreating toward the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, needing space to breathe.

Steve notices immediately.

He doesn’t interrupt the arguing — but his eyes stay on her, concern flickering across his face.

The room falls silent when Joyce steps in.

Her voice is quiet — but steady.

“They’re right. We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”

Jonathan looks at her, startled by the steel in her tone.

“Me too,” Hopper says, softer now. “Me too, Joyce. But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with.”

Mike steps forward again.

“No. But he does.”

Everyone turns.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will,” Mike says. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Max hesitates. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees. “But he can’t spy… if he doesn’t know where he is.”

A heavy silence settles over the room.

The implication sinks in.

Maya’s breath catches from the doorway.

Steve shifts slightly closer to her, like he’s already bracing for whatever comes next.

Because whatever Mike is suggesting—

It won’t be easy.

And it definitely won’t be safe.

They split off into smaller groups, the plan moving from chaotic theory to desperate action.

The shed becomes the focus.

If Will can’t know where he is, then they make sure he doesn’t.

They strip it down and rebuild it into something unrecognizable — covering every inch of the walls, ceiling, doors. Sheets. Tarps. Newspaper. Anything to erase familiarity. To erase safety.

To turn it into a place they can question him.

Maya stays inside the house at first, helping Joyce gather old newspapers and spare fabric. She knows Steve is out there with Nancy, hanging sheets and pinning paper into the wooden beams.

No matter what he said earlier — about not having to worry about him and Nancy anymore — she doesn’t fully know if she believes it.

They have history.

History doesn’t just disappear.

So she gives them space.

She waits a few minutes longer than necessary before grabbing another stack of papers and heading toward the shed.

When she pushes the door open, Nancy is just stepping down from the ladder.

They nearly collide in the doorway.

Nancy freezes for half a second when she sees her.

Maya does too.

It isn’t hostile.

It isn’t friendly.

It’s just… loaded.

A quick glance. A silent acknowledgment.

Then Nancy steps past her without a word, brushing by carefully, retreating back toward the house.

Maya exhales slowly and steps inside.

Steve is still up on a crate, tacking paper across one of the beams. He looks down when he hears her.

“Hey…” he says, softer than before. “You okay? You haven’t said anything for a while.”

She nods automatically. “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“Just overwhelmed,” she admits after a second. “I want to go home… but I can’t leave you guys to deal with this. It makes me feel bad for wanting to leave.”

Steve immediately climbs down from the crate.

Before she can process what he’s doing, he steps in front of her and gently grabs her face between his hands.

Her eyes widen.

Why is he doing this?

His palms are warm. Steady. Careful.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay to think like that. I mean — you’ve got Dani at home. You have to worry about her too. Don’t feel guilty for wanting to leave. You have to do what you need to do.”

Her heart is pounding so loud she’s sure he can hear it.

His face is closer than she’s ever let it be.

“I need to stay,” she says, barely above a whisper.

His thumbs brush lightly against her cheeks before he lets his hands fall.

“Okay,” he says. “Then that’s the decision you make. Don’t feel bad either way.”

There’s something in his eyes.

Something neither of them are brave enough to name.

It’s not just friendship.

It’s not just fear.

It’s something softer. Newer. Fragile.

And neither of them know what to do with it.

Outside, the wind rattles the trees.

Inside the shed, surrounded by papered walls and borrowed courage—

They stand just a little too close for just friends.

Steve and Maya walk back into the main house once they’re finished in the shed.

The only ones left out there are Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan, Mike and Will.

Everyone else waits inside, nerves stretched thin.

It doesn’t take long before Hopper bursts through the front door, breathing hard, eyes sharp with urgency.

“What happened?” Dustin asks immediately.

“I think he’s talking,” Hopper says, already grabbing a pen and paper. “Just not with words.”

He starts scribbling fast, writing down dots and dashes as they echo faintly from the shed.

“What is that?” Steve asks.

“Morse code,” Maya answers automatically.

Hopper keeps writing.

“H… E… R… E…” he mutters. “Here. Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.”

“We can use the radios,” Maya says quickly. “You give us the code, and I can translate.”

Hopper nods once and rushes back outside.

The group gathers around the radio on the kitchen counter.

Tap.

Tap-tap.

Tap.

The faint, rhythmic knocking crackles through the static.

Maya grabs a notebook and begins writing quickly, translating each pattern under her breath.

“C…”

She writes it down.

“L…”

“O…”

“S…”

“E…”

Her handwriting grows messier as the tapping speeds up.

“G…”

“A…”

“T…”

“E…”

She stops.

The others lean over her shoulders.

“Close gate,” they all say at once.

Silence fills the room.

Close the gate.

Then—

The phone rings.

Everyone jumps.

“Shit. Shit,” Dustin breathes.

The ringing slices through the tension again and again.

Nancy rushes to answer it, just to make it stop.

“Do you think he heard that?” Max asks nervously. “It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere… right?”

Before anyone can respond, the shed door slams open outside.

Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan and Mike rush into the house.

“Hey! Hey! Get away from the windows!” Hopper shouts.

Panic ignites instantly.

Hopper grabs a shotgun and shoves it toward Jonathan.

“Do you know how to use this?” he demands.

“What?” Jonathan stutters.

“Can you use this?”

“I can!” Nancy nearly shouts, stepping forward.

Then they hear it.

Screeching.

High-pitched. Animalistic.

And close.

Very close.

Maya’s stomach drops.

The sound multiplies — claws scraping, bodies tearing through brush.

“They’re coming,” someone whispers.

“Where are they?” Max asks.

“What are they doing?” another voice says.

Maya doesn’t register who.

She’s staring at the front door.

At the windows.

Waiting.

The screeching grows louder — but underneath it is something else.

Almost like… pain.

A sudden crash—

Glass explodes inward as a demodog comes flying through the window, skidding across the floor in a spray of shards.

The group screams.

“Holy shit!” Dustin yells.

The creature twitches once.

Twice.

Then goes still.

“Is it dead?” someone asks.

No one moves.

The front door creaks open slowly.

Every head turns.

Every weapon lifts.

Maya’s breath catches in her throat.

A small silhouette stands in the doorway.

Blood at the nose.

No one expects to see her.

It’s Eleven.

Taglist:

Sorry it took so long to update, my app glitched and wouldn’t post anything

Chapter 017:

Word Count: 3,767

The familiar car pulls in just ahead of Maya, tires crunching over gravel.

She exhales through her nose.

Of course.

Steve and Dustin step out at the same time, both moving fast, both clearly on edge. Maya closes her car door quietly and walks up behind them.

“Jesus—!” Steve jumps, hand flying to his chest.

Dustin yelps. “Maya! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” she says, not sorry at all.

Steve pops the trunk, and the lid creaks open. Maya leans forward—and freezes.

There it is.

Her bat.

The wooden handle is scratched, the nails still wicked and uneven, catching the light.

She blinks. “So that’s where my bat went… wait. Why do you have it?”

Steve grabs it like it’s always been his. “You didn’t take it when we all went to the hospital last year,” he says. “So I did.”

“And it just lives in the trunk of your car?” Maya asks, incredulous.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah.”

She snorts. Figures.

They move together toward the backyard, the house looming behind them, the storm cellar door sitting half-hidden among dead leaves and overgrown grass. The air feels heavier back here. Wrong.

They stop at the door.

“I don’t hear shit,” Steve mutters, listening.

“He’s in there,” Dustin says, way too certain.

Steve turns on him slowly. “All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some kind of Halloween prank—”

“It’s not,” Maya cuts in immediately.

“It’s not,” Dustin echoes at the exact same time.

Steve looks between them, unimpressed. “You got a key for this thing?”

Dustin digs into his pocket and hands it over.

Steve unlocks the door, metal scraping loud in the quiet.

“He must be further down,” Dustin says, backing up a step. “I’ll stay up here, in case he tries to escape.”

“I’ll come with you,” Maya says instantly.

Steve gives her a look. “You sure?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

Steve grips the bat tighter and starts down the stairs. Maya follows close behind him, so close she can feel the tension rolling off him. The steps creak under their weight, the air growing colder, damper.

At the bottom, Steve stops short.

On the ground—something wet. Dark. Shiny.

“What the hell…?” he mutters.

“Steve?” Dustin calls from above. “Steve, what’s going on down there?”

Steve doesn’t answer right away.

“Get down here,” he says instead.

Dustin jumps at the tone, then hurries down the stairs. Steve nudges the thing on the floor with the end of the bat. It sticks, stretches, then peels away.

Slimy.

Like shed skin.

Maya turns her head—and her stomach drops.

There’s a hole in the wall. Jagged. Fresh. Stone bricks shattered outward like something forced its way through.

“Guys,” she says quietly.

They follow her gaze.

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathes.

“Oh, shit,” Dustin echoes.

Maya doesn’t say it out loud—but her mind does.

It’s not here anymore.

⸻

They all end up staying the night.

No one really says it out loud, but no one argues either.

Steve takes the armchair, boots still on, bat leaning against the wall within reach. Maya curls up on the couch with a blanket Dustin insists is “clean enough.” None of them sleep much. Every creak of the house, every gust of wind outside, has someone jerking awake.

Morning comes grey and cold.

They’re up early, running on stale cereal and adrenaline.

Buckets of meat sit heavy in the trunk by the time they leave—raw, bloody, already starting to smell. Maya wrinkles her nose as she lifts one.

“God, this is disgusting,” she mutters.

“Yeah, well,” Steve says, slamming the trunk shut. “Welcome to the glamorous life of monster hunting.”

She huffs a laugh despite herself.

They drive out toward the woods, the road thinning until it’s barely more than dirt. The trees press in close, bare branches clawing at the sky. It’s quiet. Too quiet.

When they pull over, Dustin hops out, walkie already in his hand.

“I’ll, uh… be right back,” he says suddenly.

Before either of them can respond, he’s already walking away, muttering into the radio.

Maya and Steve exchange a look.

“Of course he did,” Maya says, grabbing a bucket.

Steve sighs and lifts another. “Kid’s got great ideas. Terrible follow-through.”

They start unloading in silence, setting the buckets down in a rough line. The smell hits harder out here, sharp and metallic. Maya breathes through her mouth.

She’s aware of Steve in a way she hates admitting—even now. The way he moves without thinking, steady and sure. The way he automatically positions himself between her and the woods, like it’s instinct.

She tells herself it doesn’t mean anything.

It still does.

“So,” Steve says after a moment, breaking the quiet. “You okay?”

Maya pauses, fingers tightening around the bucket handle.

“Yeah,” she says. Then, more honest, “I mean—no. But… yeah.”

He nods, accepting it without pushing. She appreciates that more than he knows.

“We lead him along the old railroad tracks,” Steve says, shifting into focus. “Straight to the junkyard. Fences, cars, tight spaces. Easier to corner.”

Maya nods. “And fewer people.”

Steve glances at her. “You’ve done this before.”

She shrugs, uncomfortable. “Not exactly this. But… close enough.”

There’s a beat where neither of them speaks.

Being alone with him like this feels… dangerous in a different way. Familiar. Comfortable. The kind of quiet that makes her forget, just for a second, that he isn’t hers and never will be.

“You didn’t have to come,” Steve says softly.

Maya looks at him. “Yeah,” she replies. “I did.”

Because despite everything—despite Nancy, despite the jealousy, despite knowing better—being here with him feels grounding. Like standing next to something solid when the world keeps tilting.

Before he can say anything else, Dustin jogs back over, breathless and wired.

“Okay! Sorry. Minor detour. But we’re good. Totally good.”

Steve snorts. “You gonna help now, Henderson, or just supervise?”

Dustin grabs a bucket. “Let’s move.”

They start laying the trail, meat dropped every few feet, leading away from the car and toward the tracks.

As they walk, Maya stays close to Steve without even thinking about it.

She tells herself it’s about safety.

She knows it’s not just that.

The plan is set.

And none of them say what they’re all thinking—

Once Dart starts following, there’s no turning back.

Time drags, stretching from morning into a dull, overcast afternoon, and the three of them are still walking the tracks.

The buckets are lighter now, the trail behind them long and messy. The railroad cuts through the woods like a scar—rusted rails, cracked ties, leaves collecting in the grooves. Their footsteps crunch in uneven rhythm.

At first, it’s just Steve and Maya talking.

Nothing important. Little things. Complaints about the smell, about how far they’ve walked, about Dustin’s “plan” and how it keeps getting more complicated by the minute. Steve cracks a joke here and there, dry and tired. Maya laughs when she should, even when she doesn’t really feel like it.

Dustin is quiet.

That’s what makes it unsettling.

Normally he’d be narrating every step, overexplaining the science of demogorgons or arguing with himself out loud. Now he just walks a few paces ahead, eyes scanning the trees, jaw tight.

“Never thought I’d miss the sound of him talking,” Steve mutters under his breath.

Maya hums in agreement.

They keep walking.

Despite everything—the danger, the exhaustion, the smell—Maya is acutely aware of Steve beside her. The closeness. The way their arms almost brush when the tracks narrow. How he keeps glancing at her without realizing he’s doing it, checking she’s still there.

They’ve been friends for almost a year now.

And still… there’s this space she keeps between them.

Not because she doesn’t trust him.

Because she does.

Too much.

She’s had a crush on Steve Harrington for years—long before the Upside Down, long before Nancy, long before her life split into before and after. And being this close to him now, walking side by side like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes something old and aching stir in her chest.

She wants to lean in. Wants to let herself feel it.

But she doesn’t.

Because he’s with Nancy.

And because she’s terrified of messing that up—for him, for Nancy, for all of them. She doesn’t want to be the girl who complicates things. Doesn’t want to be the reason something good fractures.

So she keeps her distance, even while walking right next to him.

It’s a careful kind of closeness. Measured. Controlled.

Steve says something—she barely registers what—and she responds automatically, the words coming easily even as her thoughts drift.

She wonders if he feels it too.

If he notices the way she pulls back just a fraction of a second too late. If he hears everything she doesn’t say.

The tracks stretch on ahead of them, disappearing into the trees.

And Maya keeps walking, caught between wanting something she’s afraid to touch and protecting something that isn’t hers to claim.

Steve finally breaks.

He’s had enough of Dustin’s silence.

“All right,” he says, swinging the bucket a little harder than necessary. “So let me get this straight.” He looks over at Dustin. “You kept something you knew was probably dangerous… to impress a girl you just met?”

Dustin scowls. “That is grossly oversimplifying things.”

Maya snorts under her breath. She absolutely thinks it was stupid—but she keeps walking.

“I mean,” Steve continues, “why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?”

“An interdimensional slug,” Dustin corrects. “Because it’s awesome.”

“It’s dangerous,” Maya cuts in sharply. “It ate Mews.”

Dustin winces, just a little.

“Well—even if she thought it was cool,” Steve says, “which she didn’t, I just… I don’t know, man. It feels like you’re trying too hard.”

Maya nods immediately. Finally. Someone with sense.

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?” Dustin mutters.

Steve scoffs. “It’s not about the hair, man. The key with girls is acting like you don’t care.”

Maya stops walking for half a step, rolls her eyes so hard it almost hurts.

“That’s stupid.”

Dustin ignores her. “Even if you do care?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Steve says confidently. “Drives them nuts.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Maya says flatly.

“Then what?” Dustin asks.

Steve slows, thinking. “You wait until… until you feel it.”

Maya throws her hands up. “Hello? Am I even here? Can you hear me? Because whatever Steve is saying is—”

They walk right on like she hasn’t spoken.

She stares at the back of their heads, incredulous. She thought being around Steve and Nancy made her feel like a third wheel. This is worse. She’s literally between them.

“Feel what?” Dustin asks.

Steve gestures vaguely in the air. “It’s like before a storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you feel it. Like this… electricity.”

“Oh,” Dustin perks up. “Like electromagnetic fluctuations in the atmosphere when—”

“No,” Steve cuts him off. “Like a—like a sexual electricity.”

“Oh.” Dustin nods, absorbing this.

“I give up,” Maya mutters, though she keeps listening.

“You feel that,” Steve continues, “and then you make your move.”

“So that’s when you kiss her?” Dustin asks.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Romeo,” Steve says. “Some girls, yeah, they want aggressive. Strong. Hot and heavy. Like a—” he searches for it, “—like a lion.”

“Mmm,” Dustin hums, impressed.

“But others,” Steve says, “you gotta be slow. Stealthy. Like a ninja.”

“What type is Nancy?” Dustin asks.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “Nancy’s different. She’s different than other girls.”

Maya’s chest tightens despite herself.

“Yeah,” Dustin says softly. “She seems pretty special. But this girl’s special too. It’s just… something about her.”

Steve stops short. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re not falling in love, are you?”

“No! No,” Dustin stammers way too fast.

“Good,” Steve says firmly. “Don’t. She’s just gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit.”

Maya thinks, despite everything—he’s actually trying. It’s not great advice, but it’s protective. Steve Harrington has a weird way of looking out for people.

They walk a few more steps in silence.

Then Steve speaks again, casually.

“Fabergé.”

“What?” Dustin and Maya say at the same time.

“It’s Fabergé Organics,” Steve continues like this is sacred knowledge. “Shampoo and conditioner. And when your hair’s damp—not wet, damp—you do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray.”

“Farrah Fawcett spray?” Dustin echoes.

“Farrah Fawcett spray?” Maya repeats, stunned.

Steve points at both of them. “You tell anyone I just told you that and you’re dead. Both of you. Do you understand?”

“Yup,” Dustin says immediately.

“Whatever,” Maya mumbles, shaking her head with a reluctant smile.

She can’t believe him.

But somehow—walking the tracks, the woods closing in, danger ahead—it almost feels normal.

About five minutes later, Dustin does what Dustin does best.

“So…” he says, glancing between them. “What type is Maya?”

Maya’s head snaps toward him.

“What?”

She’s already opening her mouth to shut it down

But Steve answers first.

“Maya…” he says, slowing his pace. “Maya’s… different.”

She stills completely.

He doesn’t look at her. He keeps his eyes on the tracks like he’s talking about something obvious. Something settled.

“She’s not like the other girls,” Steve continues. “She actually pays attention. Like, really listens.” He shrugs. “She’s smart in a way that doesn’t make you feel dumb about it.”

Maya’s chest tightens.

He keeps going, completely unaware she’s barely breathing.

“And she’s got all this responsibility on her shoulders—Dani, school, your nonsense—” he nods at Dustin “—and she just handles it. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t ask for credit.”

Maya feels heat crawl up her neck.

This is dangerous.

“She’s tough,” Steve says. “Not loud about it. Just… solid. You know she’ll show up. Every time.”

Her heart is pounding now, loud enough she’s sure they can hear it.

This is her crush. The one she’s spent years pretending she doesn’t have. The one she told herself was impossible. Saying these things like they’re facts carved into stone.

“She deserves better than half the crap Hawkins throws at her,” Steve adds quietly. “And honestly? Anyone would be lucky to have her.”

Maya’s fingers curl around the bucket handle until it hurts.

Anyone.

Not him.

Anyone.

Dustin nods, solemn. “She really is special.”

Maya forces out a breath and finally speaks, voice deliberately flat.

“Wow,” she says. “I’m literally standing right here.”

Both boys jump.

Steve nearly drops the bucket. “Jesus— I thought you were— I mean—”

“Behind you?” she deadpans. “Invisible? A ghost?”

Dustin winces. “Uh… sorry?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. “I wasn’t— I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Maya says quickly, too quickly. She pastes on a smile that feels tight around the edges. “Great ego boost. Ten out of ten. Really touching.”

She walks ahead before either of them can say more.

Her heart won’t slow down.

Because hearing Steve Harrington say all the things she’s secretly wanted him to see?

It feels worse than not hearing them at all.

He sees her.

He just doesn’t see her like that.

And she doesn’t know whether that makes it easier…

or a whole lot harder.

———

They finally make it to the junkyard. Steve hops out first, scanning the piles of rusted metal and half-crushed cars like he’s appraising real estate.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this’ll do,” he says with a nod. “This’ll do just fine.”

“There’s a lot of potential,” Maya adds, glancing around. Twisted steel, broken windows, places to hide—she hates that her brain automatically catalogs it like that now.

“Good call, dude,” Steve says, clapping Dustin on the back.

Before Dustin can bask in it, a voice carries over the junkyard.

“I said medium-well!”

Lucas stands on a small hill near the edge of the lot, gesturing dramatically. Beside him is a red-haired girl Maya doesn’t recognize.

Steve squints. “Who’s that?”

Dustin’s smile fades instantly.

Maya leans closer to Steve, lowering her voice. “Judging by the look on his face, I’d say that’s the girl he likes.”

Steve hums. “Yikes.”

Maya straightens. “Alright, let’s get to work. We’re losing daylight.”

They spread out. Or—mostly spread out.

Dustin and Lucas immediately duck behind a car, talking in low, animated voices. Maya doesn’t bother calling them out yet. She and Steve start hauling scrap toward the old bus, Max joining in without hesitation.

Maya works fast, adrenaline sharpening her movements. She and Steve fall into an easy rhythm, passing metal back and forth, covering windows, reinforcing weak spots.

After a minute, Steve notices something.

He straightens, hands on his hips. “Hey! Dickheads!”

Dustin and Lucas flinch.

“How come the only ones helping me are this random girl and the new kid?” Steve shouts. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Grumbling, the boys finally emerge and start working. Maya catches Max’s eye and gives her a small, appreciative nod. Max smirks back.

When they’re done, they step back to look at the bus. It’s ugly. Heavy. Reinforced.

It might actually work.

“Okay,” Steve says, clapping his hands once. “Last step.”

He and Maya usher the kids inside the bus, making sure they’re settled and quiet. Then the two of them move back out, working quickly and carefully.

They pile the meat in a mound near the center of the yard. The smell makes Maya’s stomach churn. Steve pours gasoline over it, then carefully drags a thin trail back toward the bus door.

Maya watches the line, committing it to memory. Distance. Wind. Timing.

When they’re done, Steve caps the gas can and exhales. “Alright. Showtime prep complete.”

They climb into the bus, pulling the door mostly shut behind them.

Inside, the air is tense. Quiet. Everyone waiting.

Maya sits near the door, heart thudding—not just from the plan, but from how naturally she and Steve moved together out there. Like they’d done this before. Like it made sense.

She doesn’t know if that scares her more than what they’re waiting for.

⸻

Steve and Maya sit side by side on the floor of the bus as the last of the daylight bleeds away. The metal beneath them is cold, humming faintly as the night settles in.

Lucas and Max are up on the roof, silhouettes against the darkening sky. Dustin sits further down the aisle on a chair, legs bouncing, pretending he isn’t nervous.

Steve keeps flicking the lighter open and closed.

“You’re gonna waste it, you know,” Maya murmurs without looking at him.

“We’ll be fine,” Steve says, though he stills his thumb for a moment.

Silence stretches.

“So… where’s Dani tonight?” he asks, quieter now.

“She’s with Eddie,” Maya replies. “She was with him last night too.”

Steve glances at her. “I still can’t believe you trust him with her.”

Maya smiles softly. “He’s… surprisingly good with her. He really stepped up to the role.”

Steve nods, thinking about that. “I’m glad you’re not doing it alone.” He hesitates, then adds, “You’re a good mom.”

The words land heavier than he probably intends.

Maya’s smile grows, warmth blooming in her chest. “Thank you,” she says, barely above a whisper.

Without really thinking about it, she leans her head against his shoulder. It feels natural. Easy.

Steve freezes for half a second—then relaxes. He looks down at her, really looks. The curve of her hair, the tired set of her face, how young she still is despite everything she carries.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. Just lets her stay there.

Maya drifts, thoughts tangling—about Dani, about Eddie, about Nancy, about the way her chest feels too full lately. About how close Steve is. About how she wishes things were simpler.

Voices murmur somewhere in the bus, but she doesn’t register them. The world narrows to the steady rise and fall of Steve’s breathing and the quiet comfort of not being alone for once.

For a few fragile minutes, everything else fades away.

Everyone jumps when a low, wet growl rolls through the junkyard.

Dart has arrived.

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Dustin calls out, panic edging his voice.

“Hold on— I’ve got eyes!” Lucas shouts from the roof. “Ten o’clock! Ten o’clock!”

They all rush to the patched windows, peering through the thin slivers left uncovered. Just enough to see shapes moving in the dark.

“He’s not taking the bait,” Maya whispers, dread pooling in her stomach.

“Maybe he’s not hungry?” Dustin offers weakly.

“Maybe he’s sick of cow,” Steve mutters—and before anyone can stop him, he reaches for the nail bat.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin says sharply.

“Steve—don’t go out there,” Maya says, panic breaking through as she grabs his sleeve.

He looks back at all of them, jaw set. “Just get ready.”

Before she can say anything else, he opens the door and steps out, shutting it behind him.

Maya moves instantly, planting herself near the door, heart hammering so hard she feels dizzy.

They watch as Steve approaches Dart, spinning the bat loosely at first, then gripping it tight. He plants his feet, ready.

Then—

“STEVE, WATCH OUT!” Lucas yells. “Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”

Maya’s blood turns cold.

Her eyes dart around the yard—and she sees them. More shapes. More movement.

“Oh my god,” she breathes. “There’s more.”

The bus erupts.

“Steve, run!”

“Steve, hurry!”

Steve swings, connects with one creature, dodges another. He’s fast—but there are too many.

Maya yanks the bus door open. “STEVE!” she screams, voice cracking.

He turns, sees her, and bolts.

He dives through the door just as she pulls it wider—crashing into her, knocking them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs and breathless panic.

“Shit!” Dustin yells, scrambling for his walkie. “Hello? Hello? Anyone—anyone copy?!”

Steve rolls off Maya, both of them gasping.

Then the bus creaks.

Something scrapes across the roof.

Steve looks up. “They’re on top.”

He’s on his feet in seconds, running to the hole in the ceiling, swinging the bat wildly. Maya scrambles up beside him, heart lodged in her throat, ready to pull him back if she has to.

The creatures retreat. One by one, the sounds fade.

Silence crashes down.

“What just happened?” Lucas asks, climbing back inside.

“I—I don’t know,” Dustin says.

“Did… did Steve scare them off?” Maya asks, not convinced.

Steve shakes his head slowly, eyes scanning the darkness outside. “No. No way.”

He grips the bat tighter.

“They’re going somewhere.”

Maya feels it then—deep in her chest.

Whatever’s happening…

They’re standing right in the middle of it.

Taglist:

Chapter 016:

Word Count: 2,893

Maya wakes to the soft crackle of her walkie-talkie on the nightstand.

“Maya, you there?”

Her eyes blink open.

“Maya, do you copy?”

Dustin.

She reaches over the side of the bed instantly, fingers closing around the walkie before the noise can wake Dani. She presses the button and keeps her voice low.

“I copy,” Maya whispers.

There’s a pause, then Dustin’s voice comes back, a little rushed. “Hey, so—uh—my mom was wondering if you could come over this morning while she goes out and looks for Mews. If you can’t it’s totally fine, she just… she’d really prefer it if you were here.”

Maya doesn’t hesitate. Not even a second.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” she says quietly.

“Oh. Wow. Okay. Yeah. Thanks,” Dustin replies, relief obvious even through the static. “She’ll be really grateful.”

“Tell her I’m on my way,” Maya says. “Over and out.”

She clicks the walkie off and lets out a slow breath.

Carefully, she sits up and looks over at the crib. Dani is still asleep, cheeks flushed, one tiny fist curled near her face. Completely peaceful.

Maya smiles softly.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands, moving quietly as she pulls on a hoodie and runs her fingers through her hair. As she steps into the hallway, she hears the low clatter of movement from the kitchen — a cupboard opening, the hiss of the kettle.

Eddie’s up.

She pauses for a moment, listening, then glances back at Dani once more before heading out of the room, already shifting into morning mode.

———

When Maya pulls up to the Henderson house, she spots Claudia already out front, hands cupped around her mouth as she calls into the neighborhood.

“Mews! Mewsy! Mews!”

Maya parks and carefully gets Dani out of her car seat. As soon as Claudia turns and sees them, her face lights up with relief.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Claudia says, hurrying over. “Maya, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you came.”

“Of course,” Maya says gently. “Anytime.”

They walk inside together, the front door barely closed before Dustin’s voice carries from the living room. He’s on the phone, pacing.

“Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much. You are a true lifesaver. Thank you. All right. Have a good one. Bye-bye now. All right. You too.”

He hangs up and turns to his mother, trying to look calm and in control.

“All right. Great news.”

Claudia clasps her hands together. “They found her?”

“No,” Dustin says quickly. “But they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”

Claudia’s hand flies to her chest. “Oh my God. How did the poor baby get all the way out there?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin shrugs. “Lost, I guess. But they’re gonna keep looking. I’ll stay here, just in case they call again.”

“And you’re gonna go help look?” he adds, softening his voice.

Claudia exhales shakily, then pulls him into a hug. “Give me a hug.”

“Give me a hug. Go get her. You’re gonna find her,” Dustin says, hugging her back and gently steering her toward the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” Claudia says, grabbing her purse. “Thank you again, Maya.”

“Good luck,” Maya replies.

The door shuts, and the house goes quiet.

Maya sets Dani’s bag down by the couch and slowly turns to Dustin, narrowing her eyes.

“You are being sketchy,” she says flatly.

Dustin blinks. “Me? No. Definitely not.”

She just stares at him.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” he admits.

Maya crosses her arms. “Is this about the thing we found in your garbage?”

Dustin’s eyes widen just a fraction.

“Maybe,” he blurts out—too fast, all mashed together.

Maya sighs. “Dustin.”

He looks at her, suddenly serious. “Can you help me?”

She glances down at Dani, who’s staring up at the ceiling fan with wide, curious eyes, then back at Dustin.

“…What did you do,” Maya asks, already knowing this morning is not going to be simple.

“So—okay—so that thing we found in the trash,” Dustin rushes out in one breath, “it might be a baby Demogorgon and it definitely ate Mews.”

Maya freezes.

Her eyes go wide, her brain short-circuits, and without even realizing it she pulls Dani closer to her chest instead of setting her down.

“…What?” she says faintly.

Dustin nods like he’s just explained something mildly inconvenient. “Yeah.”

Maya swallows. “And where,” she asks very slowly, carefully keeping her voice down, “is it now?”

Dustin points down the hallway. “Locked in my room.”

Her mouth opens.

Closes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she half-whispers, half-hisses, catching herself before she raises her voice too much.

Dani squirms, sensing the tension.

“Don’t worry!” Dustin says quickly. “I have a plan.”

“A—Dustin—” Maya starts.

Too late. He’s already running down the hall.

She stands there, heart racing, bouncing Dani slightly in her arms. “Of course you do,” she mutters.

A moment later, Dustin comes back—head to toe in safety gear. Helmet. Goggles. Gloves. Pads. He looks like he’s about to defuse a bomb.

In one hand: a stack of bologna.

In the other: a hockey stick.

Maya stares at him.

If this weren’t absolutely terrifying, she might’ve laughed.

She presses her lips together instead and just reaches out, taking the hockey stick from him.

“Give me that before you lose an eye,” she whispers.

Dustin, undeterred, starts laying slices of bologna on the floor, creating a trail from his bedroom door toward the back door and out into the yard, all the way to the old storm cellar.

Maya follows at a distance, Dani clutched to her chest, every nerve screaming.

Once the trail is set, Dustin bolts outside, motioning frantically.

“Come on, come on!”

They duck into the old cubby house in the backyard, Maya crouching low and shielding Dani with her body.

They wait.

And then—

Something slithers out of the house.

Small. Wet. Wrong.

It follows the bologna trail, chomping as it goes.

Maya feels sick.

It reaches the storm cellar door.

Dustin bursts from hiding with a yell, swinging the hockey stick and knocking the creature down into the cellar. He slams the door shut and locks it, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry, Dart,” he pants. “But you ate my cat.”

Maya’s head snaps toward him.

“…You named it?” she whisper-yells, finally losing it.

Dani lets out a small whimper at the raised voice.

Maya immediately softens, shushing her and rocking gently.

“That’s it,” she says, standing up. “I’m taking Dani home so she is safe.”

Dustin opens his mouth.

“And while I’m gone,” Maya cuts in, already walking toward the house, “you are going to go find more help. Real help. Not… bologna and sports equipment.”

She doesn’t wait for a reply.

She just leaves—heart pounding, baby held tight—already planning how fast she can get back to the cabin.

———

The drive to Eddie’s trailer is tight and silent, the world narrowed to headlights and asphalt. Maya’s hands lock around the steering wheel, knuckles white, shoulders hunched like she’s bracing for impact. Dani fusses once in the backseat, a small confused sound, and Maya murmurs to her automatically—soft nonsense, half-prayers—without really hearing her own voice.

Her chest feels too full. Like if she takes one wrong breath, something is going to spill out.

When she pulls up to the trailer, she barely kills the engine.

The door slams harder than she means it to as she storms inside, breath uneven, pulse roaring in her ears.

Eddie looks up from the couch instantly.

No jokes. No teasing grin. No what happened now?

Just sharp focus.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, already on his feet. “Hey. Hey.”

Maya stops short, words tumbling over each other in her head, panic clawing at her throat—but Eddie closes the distance before she can spiral. He gently takes Dani from her arms, like this has happened a hundred times before, settling her against his chest with practiced ease.

Dani quiets almost immediately.

Her tiny body relaxes, cheek pressed into Eddie’s shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like she trusts him with her whole life.

Maya exhales—long and shaky.

It feels like the first real breath she’s taken all day.

“Can you take her tonight?” Maya blurts, voice breaking now that she’s not holding herself together through Dani. “I—I have to deal with a crisis and I don’t know if I’ll be home. I don’t know how long it’s going to take or what’s going to happen and I just—”

“Yeah,” Eddie says instantly. No pause. No hesitation.

“That’s fine.”

He adjusts Dani automatically, one hand firm at her back, the other rubbing slow circles between her shoulders.

“Always happy to spend a night with one of my favorite girls,” he adds lightly, then looks down at Dani, his voice softening in a way that still surprises Maya every time.

“Right, kid? We got bedtime stories, music. I’ll tell you about dragons. Maybe demons. Depends on your vibe.”

Dani makes a tiny sound, almost a sigh.

Maya lets out a breath that’s halfway to a laugh and halfway to a sob.

Her shoulders finally drop, tension draining out of her like she’s been unplugged.

Eddie watches her carefully.

“Okay,” he says gently. “Now sit.”

“I’m fine,” Maya says automatically, the lie thin even to her own ears.

“Mm-hm,” Eddie hums. He tips his head toward the couch.

“Sit.”

She does.

The second she sinks down, her legs feel like jelly. Eddie stays close, pacing slowly with Dani, bouncing her just enough to keep her calm. He talks quietly—about Wayne, about a stupid song stuck in his head, about some half-baked D&D idea he’ll never actually finish.

None of it matters.

That’s the point.

Every few seconds, his eyes flick back to Maya, checking her face, checking her breathing, anchoring her without saying a word.

“You wanna tell me?” he asks gently after a while. Not pushing. Just offering.

Maya shakes her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says immediately. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe anyone one.”

That nearly undoes her more than anything else.

He shifts Dani again when her head lolls, humming under his breath—something low and steady. Maya didn’t even realize he knew how to hum.

“You good to drive?” Eddie asks quietly after a minute.

Maya nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I just… I needed to know she was safe. I needed—”

Her voice catches. She presses her lips together.

“She is,” Eddie says, firm and sure. “Always. You did the right thing bringing her here.”

Maya’s eyes sting.

He walks her to the door when she finally stands, Dani already half-asleep in his arms, her breathing slow and even. Eddie adjusts the blanket around her without thinking, like it’s muscle memory.

At the door, he hesitates, then adds softly, “Hey. Whatever you’re walking into? You don’t have to be brave the whole time. Just… come back when you’re ready.”

Maya nods, unable to trust her voice. She steps outside, the cool air hitting her face like a reset.

When she gets into the car, her heart is still racing—but it’s steadier now.

Because Dani is safe.

Because Eddie has her.

And for the first time all day, Maya believes she might actually be able to handle what comes next.

———

By the time Maya pulls back onto the Hendersons’ street, dusk has already settled in, the sky bruised purple and blue. Porch lights flick on one by one.

She slows as she reaches the driveway.

There’s a familiar car parked out front.

It’s clearly just arrived too—the engine still ticking, headlights barely dimmed.

Maya’s stomach drops.

Of course.

She parks behind it and sits there for a second, hands resting uselessly in her lap. She exhales through her nose, steadying herself.

Round two, she thinks.

She opens the door and steps out, the evening air cool against her skin. Somewhere inside the house, something bad is already brewing—she can feel it, that same crawling sense she’s learned to trust.

“Okay,” she murmurs to herself.

Time for hell to take over again.

Taglist:

Chapter 015:

Word Count: 3,609

Maya’s heart starts racing the second the thought fully lands.

Eleven isn’t supposed to leave.

She knows the rules—Hopper’s rules. The Don’t Be Stupid rules. 1. Always keep the curtains drawn. 2. Only open the door if you hear the secret knock. 3. Never ever go outside alone, especially in daylight.

Maya starts pacing.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Did someone take her?

Did she sneak out?

Did something happen?

Her mind jumps straight to worst-case scenarios, each one worse than the last.

She reaches for the radio instinctively—then stops herself.

No.

No way. That’s dangerous. Anyone could be listening.

She lowers her hand, breath shaky, and keeps pacing, running her fingers through her hair, trying to think of anything that makes sense. Anything that doesn’t end in panic.

She doesn’t even notice at first that Dani is watching her.

Every time Maya passes, Dani’s eyes track her. Back and forth. Back and forth. A tiny grin starts to form, like this is the most fascinating game she’s ever seen.

A soft little coo escapes her.

Maya doesn’t hear it.

Minutes stretch. Then more. The light outside shifts, afternoon sliding toward evening. Maya keeps pacing, muttering to herself, stopping only to check the door again, the windows, the yard—like El might suddenly appear if she looks hard enough.

Nearly an hour passes.

The front door finally opens.

“Dad!” Maya shouts, spinning around so fast she almost trips.

Dani startles, letting out a small whimper.

Maya rushes forward. “El’s gone,” she blurts, words tumbling over each other. “She’s not here and I don’t know where she—”

“I know,” Hopper says.

His voice is flat. Controlled. Not calm.

Maya freezes.

“You—what?” she asks.

Hopper doesn’t answer right away. He sets his keys down, shrugs off his jacket, jaw tight. Then he turns and walks straight back toward the door.

“Dad?” Maya calls after him, confused and scared.

Hopper steps outside onto the porch, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it with shaking hands. He leans against the railing, eyes fixed on the dirt road like he’s daring something—or someone—to appear.

He exhales a long stream of smoke.

Waiting.

Waiting for Eleven.

———

The door opens hard enough to rattle the frame.

Eleven steps inside first, shoulders tight, jaw set. Hopper follows close behind her, fury rolling off him in waves.

“Friends don’t lie,” he snaps. “Isn’t that your bullshit saying? Hey—hey! Hey! Don’t walk away from me!”

Eleven keeps moving, straight for her room.

“Where’d you go on your little field trip, huh?” Hopper presses. “Where? Did you go see Mike?”

Eleven stops at her bedroom door and turns, eyes blazing.

“He didn’t see me,” she says firmly.

“Yeah, well, that mother and her daughter did,” Hopper fires back. “And they called the cops. Now did anyone else see you? Anyone at all? Come on, I need you to think.”

That’s how he knew, Maya realizes, stomach sinking.

She stays where she is, seated on the floor with Dani in her lap, gently bouncing her, saying nothing. This isn’t her place to step into—not like this.

“Nobody saw me!” Eleven yells.

“You put us in danger,” Hopper shouts back. “You realize that, right? You, me, Maya, Dani!”

His voice isn’t slowing. It’s only getting louder.

“You promised!” Eleven screams. “I go! And I never leave! Nothing ever happens!”

“Yeah!” Hopper yells. “Nothing happens and you stay safe!”

Dani starts fussing, her little noises rising with every raised voice. Maya rocks her faster, whispering nonsense, trying to ground her.

“You lie!” Eleven screams.

“I don’t lie!” Hopper roars. “I protect and I feed and I teach! And all I ask of you is that you follow three simple rules—three rules! And you know what? You can’t even do that!”

He storms into the kitchen, yanking open the freezer. One by one, he pulls out the Eggos and throws them aside.

“You’re grounded,” he says, voice shaking with anger. “You know what that means? No Eggos. And no TV for a week.”

He marches toward the television and grabs it.

“All right, knock it off. Let go,” he grunts as it refuses to move.

“Okay,” he snaps. “Two weeks. Let go! A month!”

“No!” Eleven shouts.

“Well, congratulations,” Hopper snarls, ripping the cords out. “You just graduated to no TV at all!”

“No!” Eleven screams, her voice breaking.

“You have got to understand that there are consequences to your actions!” Hopper says.

“You are like Papa!” Eleven yells.

That one hits.

“Really?” Hopper says, incredulous and furious. “I’m like that psychotic son of a bitch? Wow. You wanna go back in the lab? One phone call. I can make that happen.”

“I hate you,” Eleven says.

Maya’s chest tightens. They don’t mean it, she tells herself desperately. They don’t. This is just heat. Just fear.

“Yeah, well, I’m not so crazy about you either,” Hopper snaps. “You know why? ’Cause you’re a brat. You know what that word means? Brat. Let’s look it up. BRAT.”

He throws the dictionary.

Eleven catches it midair and hurls it back. Hopper stumbles.

Eleven disappears into her room, slamming the door so hard the walls shake.

“Hey!” Hopper bellows, charging after her. “What the hell is wrong with you? Open this door! Open the damn door! You wanna go out in the world? You better grow up! Grow the hell up!”

Dani is crying now—full, sharp sobs. Maya curls around her instinctively, shielding her, whispering, rocking, trying to block out the noise.

And then—

Eleven screams.

Every window explodes outward. Glass shatters everywhere, bursting through the air like a shockwave. Maya reacts without thinking, turning her body, covering Dani completely, pulling her close, head down, arms tight.

Then—

Silence.

No shouting. No footsteps.

Just Dani’s quiet, trembling cries.

Maya lifts her head slowly, heart pounding, the cabin eerily still. She tightens her hold on Dani, pressing her cheek to her daughter’s hair, breathing her in.

Everything feels broken.

And none of them know how to fix it.

The next morning, the cabin is painfully quiet.

Too quiet.

Maya moves through it on autopilot, the air heavy with everything that went unsaid the night before. Eleven’s door stays closed. No footsteps. No music. Nothing. Hopper is already up, sitting at the table with a cold cup of coffee, staring at nothing.

No one knows how to talk yet.

Maya doesn’t try.

She gathers Dani’s things quickly, careful not to make noise, and lifts her from the crib. Dani blinks up at her, calm and unaware, and Maya presses a kiss to her forehead like an apology for the world she’s being raised in.

At the door, she hesitates.

“Bye, Dad,” she says softly.

Hopper doesn’t look up.

The door closes behind her, and that somehow hurts more than if he’d snapped at her.

⸻

School is worse.

The halls feel louder, crueler. Whispers follow her everywhere, but today she doesn’t even have the energy to pretend they don’t exist. She keeps her head down. Doesn’t sit with anyone. Doesn’t talk to Eddie—though she feels his eyes on her more than once. Doesn’t talk to Steve either.

Not until gym.

Just like the day before, the boys are on the court, the girls on the bleachers. Maya sits with her notebook open, pretending to study, pretending her head isn’t somewhere else entirely.

When the bell finally rings, Steve lingers near the exit like he’s waiting for her.

“Hey,” he says carefully as they fall into step together. “You okay? You’ve been… quiet.”

She shrugs. “Just tired.”

He nods, then hesitates. “Listen—have you heard anything about Nancy?”

Maya looks at him. He looks genuinely worried.

“She skipped yesterday afternoon,” he continues. “Didn’t show up at all. People said they saw her with Jonathan.” His jaw tightens slightly. “I don’t know. I just—have you talked to her?”

Maya shakes her head. “No. I haven’t.”

Steve exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They walk in silence for a moment.

“If you do hear something,” he adds quietly, “can you let me know?”

“Yeah,” Maya says. “I will.”

Everything feels fractured lately—home, school, friendships.

And she’s starting to wonder how long she can keep pretending she’s okay when nothing around her is.

He gives her a small, grateful nod before heading off down the hall.

Maya watches him go.

She feels it then — sharp and unwelcome.

That pang in her chest when he says Nancy’s name.

Of course it’s still there. The jealousy. The stupid, irrational part of her that tightens every time Steve’s voice softens when he talks about her, every time his worry shows so clearly on his face. It doesn’t matter that she knows it’s wrong or pointless. Feelings don’t listen to logic.

She keeps her expression neutral, though. Trained. Practiced.

“Yeah,” she says again, quieter this time, when he asks her to let him know. Like it doesn’t bother her at all.

But inside, she hates that she notices it — how he doesn’t ask if she’s okay again, how his concern lives somewhere else entirely. She hates that even now, with everything going on in her own life, part of her still wants to be the person he’s looking for.

Still wants to be Nancy.

Steve walks away, and Maya stands there for a second longer than she should, watching him disappear into the crowd.

She exhales slowly.

Get over it, she tells herself. You have bigger things to worry about now.

She turns toward her locker, shoulders squared, and keeps moving — jealousy tucked away where no one can see it, where it can’t hurt anyone but her.

Maya trails Eddie through the parking lot that afternoon, her steps slower than usual. The air feels heavier than it should, like the day is clinging to her, refusing to let go.

Eddie glances back at her once, then again. “Okay,” he says gently, walking backward a step. “Something’s up.”

She meets his eyes for half a second — long enough for him to see it. The exhaustion. The tightness. The very clear please don’t make me say it out loud.

He stops immediately.

“…Got it,” he says softly. “Not a talking-about-it moment.”

She gives a small, grateful nod.

They walk the rest of the way in companionable silence, the crunch of gravel under their shoes filling the space where words would normally go. Eddie unlocks the trailer and eases the door open instead of flinging it wide like he usually does.

The moment they step inside, they both freeze.

Wayne is asleep on the couch, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. Dani is sprawled on his chest, impossibly small, her cheek pressed against his flannel. One of Wayne’s arms is curled around her instinctively, holding her there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Maya’s breath catches.

Eddie’s entire face softens.

“Well, shit,” he whispers, reverent. “That’s… illegal levels of cute.”

Maya presses a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, eyes stinging instead for reasons she doesn’t quite unpack. She watches Dani’s tiny chest rise and fall, watches Wayne’s fingers twitch once in his sleep like he’s making sure she’s still there.

“He must’ve been up with her,” Maya murmurs.

Eddie nods. “Yeah. Wayne always sets an alarm for work. Probably figured he’d grab twenty minutes.”

They move carefully, shoes kicked off quietly, bags set down without a sound. Eddie gestures toward the hallway, and Maya follows, both of them instinctively avoiding the creaky floorboard near the kitchen.

At the doorway, Maya looks back once more.

Wayne stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. Dani shifts, sighs in her sleep, and settles deeper against his chest.

Maya’s shoulders loosen just a fraction.

They let him sleep.

For now, that feels like the kindest thing in the world.

———

When it’s just the three of them, the trailer settles into a quiet that feels earned.

Eddie keeps the lights low and makes dinner the easy way — peanut butter and jelly, slightly uneven, cut in crooked halves. Nothing fancy. Enough. He brings the plates in and sets them on the coffee table before lowering himself to the floor beside Maya.

Maya’s sprawled on the carpet with her textbooks open, half-doing homework, half-watching Dani. Dani lies on her back on a folded blanket, tiny fingers wrapped around a rattle, shaking it with complete seriousness like it’s her most important job.

Click. Click. Click.

Eddie watches her for a moment, smiling to himself.

“She’s really into that thing,” he murmurs.

Maya hums, distracted, pencil moving. “It’s her favourite right now. That and autumn leaves. Maybe your guitar sometimes.”

Eddie laughs quietly and nudges her sandwich closer with his foot. “Eat. You’re gonna forget again.”

She smiles at him — small, real — and takes a bite, still reading. Eddie leans back on his hands, stretching his legs out, close enough that their knees brush. Neither of them moves away.

Dani lets out a pleased little noise and shakes the rattle harder, clearly proud of herself.

Eddie reaches over and wiggles his fingers near her belly. “You’re killing it, kid. Five stars.”

Dani responds by smacking the rattle against her own chest and grinning.

Maya watches them, her chest warm in a way she doesn’t try to fight. The tension that’s been coiled in her all day finally loosens. This — sitting on the floor, homework half-finished, cheap sandwiches, Eddie’s shoulder against hers — feels solid. Safe.

Normal.

They eat quietly. No rush. No pressure. Just the soft clink of the rattle and the low hum of the fridge in the background.

After a while, Maya closes her notebook.

“…Hey,” she says softly.

Eddie turns his head. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna stay tonight.”

He doesn’t ask why. Doesn’t tease. Just nods like he already knew.

“Okay. You want the bed or the couch?” He asks jokingly like they don’t share a bed whenever she stays.

She huffs out a small laugh. “I’m not banishing you to the couch.”

“Wow,” he grins. “Generous.”

Her smile fades just a little. “I’m just… not ready to go home yet.”

Eddie’s expression softens immediately. “That’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be.”

Dani makes a sleepy little sound, eyelids drooping, rattle slipping from her fingers.

Maya scoops it up before it can clatter.

Eddie watches her, voice quieter now. “You’re always welcome here. You know that, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. I do.”

For the first time since last night, the knot in her chest eases.

Tonight, at least, she doesn’t have to be brave.

Tonight, she can just stay

Taglist:

Chapter 014:

Word Count: 4,212

They lean in together, peering into the bin.

Inside, wriggling against the plastic, is a slug-like creature—slick, pale, and very much not normal. It twitches, making a soft, wet sound that sends a chill straight up Maya’s spine.

“Oh—nope,” Maya says instantly, taking a full step back. “Absolutely not.”

Dustin, on the other hand, lights up like he’s just found buried treasure.

“Holy crap,” he whispers, eyes wide. “That’s so cool.”

“Dustin, that thing is alive,” Maya says, equal parts horrified and exhausted. “And slimy. And wrong.”

“Exactly!” he says, already pulling out his Ghostbusters trap. “This is, like, scientifically significant.”

Maya folds her arms, turning her head away. “I want it on record that I am not involved in this.”

Dustin carefully scoops the creature up, wincing as it writhes, and drops it into the trap with a triumphant click. “Boom. Contained.”

She grimaces. “I hate everything about that.”

They head inside. Dustin creeps through the door like he’s on a secret mission, hunched low, exaggeratedly sneaky.

Maya just walks straight in.

Claudia Henderson is already waiting, hands clasped together, eyes bright.

“Dusty! How was it?” she asks excitedly.

“How was what?” Dustin replies blankly.

Maya mentally facepalms. This boy can be such an idiot.

“How was what?” Claudia repeats, laughing. “Just the greatest night of the year, of course!”

“Oh,” Dustin perks up instantly. “It was tubular.”

And with that, he bolts down the hallway, already peeling off part of his costume.

Maya smiles to herself. She loves how Claudia supports him—how she lets him be exactly who he is without making him feel strange for it. She hopes, someday, she can be that kind of mom for Dani too.

Claudia turns to her. “She was an absolute angel,” she says warmly. “Didn’t fuss once.”

“Thank you,” Maya says softly. “Really.”

Claudia gestures toward the couch. Dani is sleeping soundly, nestled safely between the cushions and a rolled-up blanket Claudia’s tucked around her to keep her secure. Her tiny chest rises and falls, peaceful and warm.

Maya’s heart melts a little.

She carefully lifts Dani, cradling her close. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

At the door, Maya pauses. “Thank you again. For everything.”

“Anytime,” Claudia says without hesitation. “You know that.”

Outside, Maya gently buckles Dani into her car seat, moving slowly, deliberately, doing everything she can not to wake her. Dani barely stirs.

The drive back to the cabin is quiet, headlights cutting through the dark road. Maya glances at Dani in the rearview mirror, still fast asleep, safe.

By the time she pulls into the clearing and shuts off the engine, the night feels calm again.

She gathers Dani up, heads inside, and closes the door softly behind them—home at last.

She pushes the cabin door open with her hip, careful not to jostle Dani, and steps inside.

Hopper is stretched out on the couch, boots kicked off, one arm draped over the back cushion. The TV hums quietly. Eleven is nowhere in sight.

On the coffee table in front of him sits a small pumpkin-shaped bowl, half-full of candy—wrappers already torn, evidence of damage done.

Maya arches an eyebrow. “Were you late?”

Hopper snorts, not even pretending otherwise. “Lost track of time,” he admits. “Told her I’d come home early so we could eat candy and get fat.”

Maya laughs softly. “That checks out.”

He glances at Dani, bundled against her chest. “She asleep?”

“Out cold,” Maya says. “Good night, too.”

“Good,” Hopper murmurs, a little relieved.

Maya heads down the short hallway, easing into her room. She carefully lowers Dani into her crib, watching for a second to make sure she stays asleep. Dani doesn’t even stir.

Satisfied, Maya slips back into the kitchen, throws together something small—nothing fancy, just enough to settle the hollow feeling in her stomach—and then carries it to the couch.

She plops down beside Hopper, tucking her feet under herself.

“Party okay?” he asks casually, eyes still on the TV.

“Yeah,” she says after a beat. “It was… a party.”

He hums, like that tells him everything he needs to know.

They sit there in comfortable silence while she eats, the candy bowl between them, the cabin warm and quiet in that end-of-the-night way.

When she’s done, Maya stands, stretching slightly. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Night, kid,” Hopper says gently.

“Night, Dad.”

She disappears down the hallway, the door to her room clicking softly shut behind her.

The cabin settles again—safe, quiet, and full.

———

Morning light filters through the thin cabin curtains, pale and cold, when Maya is already up and pulling on her jacket. She’s halfway through tying her shoes when she hears Hopper’s heavy footsteps shuffle down the short hallway.

Then the smell hits her.

Waffles. Sweet. Over-the-top sweet.

She pauses, listening.

Hopper pushes open Eleven’s door with all the subtlety of a man on a mission, a plate piled high in his hands—waffles stacked three-deep, drowning in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and things that probably shouldn’t be eaten before noon.

“Rise and shine,” he says loudly. “So that’s it, huh? You’re still not talking?” He sighs dramatically. “All right. I guess I’m just gonna have to, uh… enjoy this triple-decker Eggo extravaganza on my own.”

He turns and trudges back toward the tiny kitchen table, plopping down and stabbing at the waffles with a fork like he’s already accepted defeat.

Maya bites back a smile.

Two seconds pass.

Then three.

Then hurried footsteps.

Eleven appears in the doorway, hair still messy, eyes locked on the plate. She doesn’t say a word—just marches straight to the table and sits down, reaching for the fork.

Hopper looks up, feigning surprise. “Oh. Hey.”

Eleven ignores him, already shoveling waffles into her mouth.

Maya shakes her head, amused, just as a soft fussing sound comes from the bedroom behind her.

“Okay, okay,” she murmurs, turning to scoop Dani up from her crib. “I hear you.”

Dani squirms against her shoulder as Maya carries her into the kitchen. The moment they step fully into the room, Hopper looks up and his face softens instantly.

“Well, there’s my favorite girl,” he says, standing to pull Maya—and Dani—into a careful one-armed hug.

Eleven leans in too, wrapping her arms around both of them, her chin resting lightly against Dani’s blanket.

Dani blinks up at them, then breaks into a wide, gummy baby smile.

“There it is,” Maya laughs softly. “That one’s for you.”

After the hugs, Maya shifts Dani back into her arms and grabs her bag, slipping into the familiar rhythm of her mornings. Bottles. Diapers. Keys.

“I’ll be back after school,” Maya says.

Hopper nods. “Drive safe.”

Eleven gives Dani a small wave, eyes lingering until they disappear toward the door.

Maya steps outside into the cool morning air, Dani bundled close, and heads for the car.

Another day. Another routine.

Drop Dani off with Uncle Wayne.

Then straight to school.

And somehow, that normalcy feels like everything.

———

By the time Maya reaches school, she can tell something’s different.

The whispers are louder today. Less careful.

They follow her down the halls, no longer bothering to soften themselves when she’s close enough to hear.

“I can’t believe she left her baby at home so she could go out and party.”

“What kind of mom does that?”

“So irresponsible.”

“So selfish.”

Each one hits harder than she expects.

She thought she was used to it. Thought she’d built up enough armor to let it all slide off the way it usually does. But today, it seeps through the cracks, curling tight in her chest.

They don’t know.

They don’t know about Uncle Wayne or Claudia or how carefully everything was planned.

They don’t know how many times she checked on Dani.

They don’t know how hard she tries.

Still, the words stick.

By the time gym rolls around, Maya is exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with her body.

The boys are playing basketball, sneakers squeaking loudly on the polished floor, the echo of shouts and bouncing balls filling the gym. The girls sit scattered along the bleachers—some watching the game, some gossiping, some doing absolutely nothing.

Maya sits with her notebook balanced on her knees, studying. It’s easier to focus on anything else.

Halfway through class, the gym doors swing open hard.

Nancy strides in, face pale and tight, scanning the room until her eyes lock onto Steve. She doesn’t bother lowering her voice.

“Steve. Now.”

The gym goes quiet in that way only high school gyms do—everyone pretending not to watch while watching anyway.

Steve blinks, surprised, then jogs over. They exchange a few tense words Maya can’t hear before disappearing back through the doors together.

Maya watches the doors for a moment longer than she means to.

Five minutes later, Steve comes back alone.

His jaw is clenched, shoulders stiff, like he’s carrying something heavy and sharp all at once. He doesn’t look at anyone as he heads back toward the court.

Maya frowns, curiosity tugging at her, but she doesn’t ask. Whatever it is, it’s not her business.