#bome

You didn’t know if any of those Russian men actually believed your begging and pleading, as they forcibly dragged you, with your hands tied together, out of your interrogation room into another room where they threw your body to the floor next to an unconscious and battered Steve.

You didn’t know if any of those Russian men actually believed your begging and pleading, as they forcibly dragged you, with your hands tied together, out of your interrogation room into another room where they threw your body to the floor next to an unconscious and battered Steve.

You didn’t know if any of those Russian men actually believed your begging and pleading, as they forcibly dragged you, with your hands tied together, out of your interrogation room into another room where they threw your body to the floor next to an unconscious and battered Steve.

You turned over and felt your heart fall into the pit of your stomach at the sight of his bloody face.  “Shit,” you seethed, slowly crawling over to him.  “Steve?  Steve?  Steve?”  You gave his body a shake, but he didn’t move.

You wanted to throw up.  

As you were still trying to wake an unconscious Steve, the sound of a buzzer echoed through the small room.  You looked up to see the same Russian men still standing there, guarding the door, as it swung open for who you could only guess was the ringleader of this entire operation.

“What did you do to him?”  You screamed at the angry man, as he stalked toward you.  “What the fuck did you—“

The man reached out and the back of his hand connected to your cheek with a loud whack.  The slap caught you by surprise, as you yelped and your body flew back to the floor.

You heard him mutter some things in Russian, and before you knew it, two of those Russian men were lifting you from the floor.

“Get off of me.  Don’t touch me.”  You struggled in a panic against the two larger men, as they dragged you over and threw you down on a metal chair.

You then felt them plop Steve on the seat right behind. He still hadn’t woken up.  “Steve?  Steve?  I need you to wake up for me, please.  Steve?”  You desperately begged for your former boyfriend/best friend to return to consciousness.

All the while the Russian men had succeeded in strapping the both of you together in those seats, with no ability to move.  You angrily tried to pull on the straps that had you secure, but they wouldn’t budge, biting into the skin of your exposed thighs.  Of course today, you decided to wear shorts. It was the middle of summer and over 100 degrees in Hawkins, I mean why wouldn’t you be wearing shorts.

You turned to look over your shoulder just as the man, who just bitch slapped you, made his way over to Steve’s slumped body.  You watched the man grab a handful of Steve’s annoyingly gorgeous brown locks, and every muscle in your body nearly seized at the thought of this man hurting Steve further.

“Don’t touch him.”  You seethed in anger, your stomach growing tighter at the thought of what this man was about to do to Steve.  You may have had your issues with the stupid boy from high school that broke your heart, but you were still concerned for his well-being.  “Don’t fucking touch him.”  You screamed, causing the Russian leader to drop his hands from Steve immediately, Steve’s head plopping toward his chest.

The Russian leader clicked his tongue several times, now stalking back toward you.  “I think your friend here may need a doctor.”  He spat, now leaning toward your face, trying to intimidate you.  But it only caused the anger in your gut to grow stronger.  “Good thing…we have the very best.”  He gave you a devious smirk, before turning to his men, and they all broke into a hearty laughter.

But you didn’t find any of this shit funny.  You were scared, angry, and worried that you were gonna die here. Having no idea what came over you, when the Russian leader turned to face you again, you hocked a big one back and spat it right in his face.

The leader’s laughter died the moment your saliva hit his landed on his skin.  He then slowly wiped off the evidence with his handkerchief, he pulled from his front pocket, and looked at you once more.  “You’re going to regret that, you little bitch.”

You weren’t ready to back down.  Not with this piece of shit.  “Go to hell.”

The last thing he muttered was in Russian, before they all left you and Steve behind, the heavy metal door slamming shut, with the sound of your echoed screams to be let out.

--------------------------

It seemed as if time had ceased to exist, while you were stuck in that Russian basement.  Seconds turned into minutes, which in the end, felt like hours.  Steve was still unconscious, and you were worried that he might have suffered more damage than you originally thought. The two of you were also still tied up together.  Your screams for help had fallen on deaf ears, and you were just on the verge of a full blown meltdown.

Your throat was raw and scratchy from the scream, but you knew that you couldn’t give up.  Not yet.  Maybe, just maybe, someone would hear your cries.  “Somebody help, please!”  

There was a little movement from behind you, followed by a small groan.  “Hey, could you please stop with the screaming?”  You heard Steve say in a groggy tone.

You immediately felt relief in the pit of your stomach at Steve finally regaining consciousness.  “Steve?!  Oh, thank God, you’re awake.  Are you okay?”

Again he groaned, his body still slumped over.  “My ears are ringing, and I can’t breathe.  My eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but you know, apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”

You released a deep, shuddering breath.  “I was so worried that you wouldn’t wake up.”

“You were worried about me?”  Steve questioned in surprise.  “That’s actually quite nice to hear.”

You playfully rolled your eyes in annoyance.  At least you knew some things never changed. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, Harrington.”  You gave a small giggle, despite the situation you were in.  You were just happy that he was alive and partially okay.

Steve gave a soft chuckle of his own, followed by another groan.  “Yeah, I guess I deserve that.  Where are our Russian buddies?” He noticed how quiet the room was, as he tried to eye his surroundings.

You tried to shrug, but the constraints were too tight.  “I don’t know, but it probably won’t be long until they come back for us.”

You felt Steve gently tug on the straps keeping you two tied together.  “How are we supposed to get out of here?”

“Well, I may have an idea.” You began. Now that Steve was awake, you could tell him about plan A of your escape plans. You didn’t have a plan b, c, or d, but you were hopeful this would work. “You see that table to the right?”  Steve’s head turned left, causing you to shake your head at his cluelessness.  “Your other right, Steve.”

“Oh.”  You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, before he then turned his head to the right. 

You both laid eyes on the table together, and you felt your heartbeat increase at the sight of the sharp object hanging right on the edge.

“Okay, so do you see those scissors?”

“Yeah.”

You swallowed thickly, your gut tightening.  “I was thinking that if we work together, you know move at the same time, we can get over there.”  You tried to explain in a rush.  You had no clue when those men were going to return.  So, this had to be quick.  “Then maybe I can kick the table and have them fall into your lap.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, trying to process what you were saying, before nodding.  “I could cut the binds.”  You nodded.  “And we could get out of here.  Yeah, yeah that could work.”

“Yeah?”  You asked him for reassurance.

“We can do this.”  He gave you the reaffirmation that was needed.  “I can’t believe those morons left scissors in here.”

You nervously laughed, agreeing with him.  “Right?!  Complete and total idiots.”

“Yeah, totally.” Steve chuckled just as nervous as you were.

 You suck in a deep breath, trying as best to calm your nerves. “Okay, so on the count of three we hop?”

“On the count of three.”  He repeated.

“One.”  You started off.

“Two.”  Steve counted right after you.

“Three.”  You both count together, lifting your chairs simultaneously.  

To both your surprises and much relief, the chair actually moved a few inches off the ground and a few inches closer in the right direction. 

“I can’t believe that worked.”   Steve stated in shock, his heavy breathing echoing around the room.

“I know.”  Your eyes widened in amazement.  The sight of those scissors were still pretty far out of reach, but, hey, it was progress, right? “You wanna go again?”

Steve nodded with enthusiasm.  “Yeah, okay.  Um, one,” this time he started off the count.

“Two.”  You counted back.

“Three.”

You both lifted your chairs together in the same fashion as before, and you ended up moving an additional six inches.  You were so much closer to the table.  Just another few inches to go.

“Holy shit.”  Steve exclaimed in excitement.  “We’re almost there.”

“Right, we’re so close now.”  You smiled from ear to ear.  “This might actually work.”  You wanted those scissors so bad you practically taste it.

“Uh, you ready to go again?”  Steve questioned, after a few silent moments to catch your bearings.

You nodded with confidence.  “Uh, yeah, let’s do it.  Just a few more, and we’ll be right there.”  You just knew you could do this. “Okay, so um, one,”

“Two.”

“Three.”

A slight miscalculation had you hopping before Steve and both your chairs tipped over at the same time, causing you to both crash to the floor on your sides.  The impact from the fall should have knocked you unconscious, but it only forced a strangled cry from your overused lungs.

Upon hearing the sound, Steve turn his head toward you with concern.  “Hey, hey, Y/N, it’s okay.  You don’t have to cry.”

You couldn’t answer him though.  The strangled sound continued to build as your whole body began to shake when you finally let out an obnoxiously loud snort.  You really wanted to cry about this situation you were in, but you just couldn’t.

“Wait,” Steve began again, and you could hear the confusion in his voice, “are you laughing?”  And you had no idea why but that was even funnier to you.  “Jesus, you’re laughing.”  He muttered, turning back over.

You kind of felt bad for having the giggles, but, again, how could you not in this situation?  “I’m sorry for laughing, but I just can’t believe that I’m gonna die in a secret Russian basement with my ex-boyfriend, the bane of my entire existence, Steve freaking Harrington.  I mean, the irony of it all.”

“We’re not gonna die, Y/N.”  Steve murmured softly, not trying to let her hear the hurt when you called him the bane of your existence.  He knew he deserved that one too, but it still hurt nonetheless.  “I’m gonna make sure we get out of here.  I promise you.  You just gotta let me think.”

“All I wanted to do is protect my baby sister, and look where that got me.  I’m here with you.”  You still giggled, now shoving your face into the floor, cooling your overheated skin. “Out of all people, I’m here with you.” The last part was spoken softly, as your laughter slowly died.

“Well, no one asked you to stay with me, Y/N.”  Steve spat, and you could now tell he was pissed.  “You should have left with Dustin and Erica.  I tried to tell you to leave.”

“Do you remember the last thing you said to me, Steve?”  You ignored what he said, the truth of reality finally hitting you.

“What?”  You could hear Steve’s confusion again.

You released a heavy sigh.  “The last thing you said to me before everything changed.”

You heard Steve release his own sigh.  “Y/N, I don’t—“

You immediately cut him off.  “It was right before the end of Freshman year.  You had just made the basketball team that spring, and you were finally getting noticed by the popular crowd —the popular girls in particular.”  You continued, as he laid there in silence.  “I was so worried that our relationship, our friendship, would change.  But you —you reassured me it wasn’t going to.  You said that nothing between us would ever change.  That no matter what, I will always have your back, and you will always have mine.”  You swallowed thickly, trying to fight your tears.  “Then that first day of sophomore year, you stopped speaking to me.”  Things remained quiet for a few uncomfortable seconds.  “And three years later, I hate that that shit still stays with me.”

It got quiet again.  Nothing but the sounds of both your and Steve’s breathing, with you still trying to hold back your tears.  That was the first time you had said those words out loud.  You had kept that bottle up inside for as long as you could remember.  It was actually your motivation to get you out and to keep you out of Hawkins. 

You could remember that day clearly. You hadn’t seen or spoken to Steve all summer, as you, Erica, and Lucas had been down south visiting your grandparents. You couldn’t talk to him on the phone as much as you wanted to since your grandmother had been strict with your phone privileges. But you wrote him every single day, for a month, but only received two letters in return. You made excuses for him —he must have been busy, traveling with his parents.

But you knew it was different when the first day of school came, and he walked right past you —along with Tommy H— pretending as if she never existed. For the next year and a half, you watched from a distance as he hopped from girl to girl, eventually ending up with Nancy Wheeler.

You cried yourself to sleep that first night. Even that first week. But by week three, you had pulled yourself together, studying as hard as you could to graduate ahead of time, so you could leave that stupid boy and this stupid town behind.

You then heard the sound of Steve clearing his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, I,”

Steve never got to finish his sentence, as the buzzer echoed loudly, and the door to the room you were trapped in opened once more.  You both looked up at the same time to see the Russian leader and his henchmen making their way inside.

The Russian leader looked down upon your fallen bodies with a smirk.  “Where were you two going?”  He clicked his tongue again in shame, as he nodded to his men.

Before you knew it, your seats were being uprighted with a loud clank against the floor.  Although you were still trapped, you were happy to have your blood flowing back in the right direction again.

You were both surprised when you were now approached by a man in a white coat holding a gun with a vial of blue liquid and a very sharp needle attached to it.  Nope, you’d take being on the floor over this any day.  You also weren’t really expecting the Russians to bring back an actual doctor.

Or was he?

“Okay, wait, wait, wait,” Steve shouted, and you could tell he was starting to freak out.  “What is…what is that?”

“It will help you talk.”  The man in the white coat said in a thick Russian accent.

“Wait, look,” Steve spoke up again, “I’ll tell you anything, okay.  Just let her go, please.  She has nothing to do with this.”

The Russian leader chuckled, leaning forward to face Steve.  “That bitch,” he nodded toward you, “spit in my face.  She’s the first one up.”

Your eyes grew as the menacing man in the white coat made his way toward you.  You and Steve both begged for him to stop, but he wouldn’t.  You tried to pull away, but being tied up hindered your movements.  You then felt the cold metal of the muzzle barely graze the side of your overheated neck.  A sharp sting pierced through your skin, followed by a burning sensation, and a full bodied scream left your body.

You could barely hear Steve’s cry over the sound of your own screaming, before everything faded to black.