#maxinemayfield

but  the  next  twenty  -  four  hours  after  was  a  different  story.  when  they  heard  the  news  of  @maxinemayfield,  his  ears  were  ringing  with  too  many  different  voices  that  wouldn’t  fucking  stop  talking.   he  could  still  hear  his  mom  wailing,  shrieking  in  his  ear  to  let  the  doctor  take  a  look  at  his  leg  as  he  pushed  toward  erica,  desperate  for  answers.   he  couldn’t  have  given  less  of   a  shit  about  his  leg. 

MAX.    

( . . . )

they’re  both  here  now,   it’s  movie  night.   thank   god.   he  has  tried  his  best  not  to  let  loneliness  of   a  dead  quiet  house  swallow  him  whole,  not  to  let  flickers  of  blood,  darkness  and  death  pull  him  under.      ❝     here,    ❞     arms  extends  toward  redhead  best  friend,  offering  out  the  green  bowl  while  setting  the  orange  one  down  on  the  coffee  table  in  front  of  the  couch.         ❝      one  bowl  with  m&m’s,  one  without,  in  case  you  don’t  like  m&m’s  in  yours.   in  which  case  you’re   certifiably  insane.    ❞      eyebrows  raise  dramatically,  grin  on  his  face  as  he  plops  down  and  grabs  the  remote  with  buttery  fingers  he  had  just  used  to  shove  a  fistful  of  popcorn  into  his  mouth.    

the drive was silent,    weaving between panicked bodies flooding the streets but 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤—  ..     𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘,     silence from lucas, erica,   max..      it was easier to close your eyes,   ignore the truth that was staring you in the face.     the house was no better,     a vessel for vecna in the upside down,    you shouldn’t 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 about the way the foundation splintered,     a trail of ᴿᴼᵀ from the house.       you were the first one inside,    car door left wide open,     already shouting before you crossed the threshold.        “    max..   !      lucas,    erica .. !      ”         you could hear the cries,    racing up rotting stairs,    towards the attic and suddenly,    you can’t live in the land of denial,     right in your line of sight was max,  cradled in lucas’ arms.

 you were supposed to be the adult,   right?     it’s why you stepped forward,    helped steve 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 lucas away,       let steve be the one to ᶜᴼᴹᶠᴼᴿᵀ ᴴᴵᴹ when suddenly,    you are on your knees where he was moments before,    pulling max into your embrace.        max,    a spitfire,    you had never known her without a word to say about somebody,    still managed to 𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚡 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 from her even in what you thought were the darkest days,     ᴺᴼᵂ,    blood stained her cheeks which you desperately tried to wipe away with the fabric of your jacket,     crimson mixing with salty tears,   copper smell hanging in the air.         she had always seemed so ᴳᴿᴼᵂᴺ ᵁᴾ to you (reminded you of yourself in the worst ways),   the way she spoke as if she had already battled the worst the world had to offer and came out standing,     now,    𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢.   a child who should never have placed her life on the line,   not when they had been so close to losing her already,   not when she still had ᴴᴱᴿ ᵂᴴᴼᴸᴱ ᴸᴵᶠᴱ ahead of her,   however BATTERED&BRUISED it might have been.      

“    max..?       this isn’t the time to play a joke,    𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜,    just open your eyes,    please.      ”      your voice is hushed,    you are bartering with ᴬ ᴳᴼᴰ that you don’t believe in,   to take you instead of the girl being cradled close to your chest,     a picture of 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 meeting a bloodied conclusion.    memories flashed before your eyes,    squeezed shut as tears threatened to explode.       (max at ᶠᴬᴹᴵᴸʸ ⱽᴵᴰᴱᴼ,    relentlessly bullying steve about some song that you hadn’t ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑜𝑓 either but still brought a smile to your face,   joining in.     max at lunch,   𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚍,   sat by her side even in the silence and the daggers that were drawn to begin with,     or the night she was ˢᵀᴵᴸᴸ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ after your band practice ended,    and you invited her to stay the night,    watch some 𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 horror movie you made her swear to keep a secret),     and you regret not having more,    not seeing her blossoming with more life in a year so cruel to her.      you don’t remember when ᴴᴱᴸᴾ arrived,   didn’t answer any questions asked like why you were there to begin with,    𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍—    that seemed stupid now.     they took her away,   but you remained on the floor,    lost in the memories,    now all that you had left of her.

So lastnight I finished my copy of Runaway Max and I would honestly highly recommend for the following reasons;

It’s season 2 from Max’ POV

There’s ALOT of Billy

It’s a deeper dive into what happened when Neil and Billy Hargrove came into Max’ life

You will feel differently about Billy

You may cry (I did)

You may also be horrified

I hate to say it cause I love Billy Hargrove

BUT

The boy is tormented, crazy, out of control.

Basically he is a product of his upbringing.

Neil is an A##HOLE

Also

You find out WHY they moved to Hawkins. If you remember that scene where Billy screams at Max “SAY IT” before going to run over the boys. Yeah that is explained.

settling dust prompts / no longer accepting.

[ FOUND ] : after a massive rescue mission to try and find the missing receiver, the sender is the first to find them just as the efforts are about to be abandoned.

THE SUBVERSION OF REALITY STRIKES   a heavy toll. a cynicism once held close like a talisman had been flung to the wind, glinting in its goodbye arc overhead. there once was a boy who followed the rules instilled unto him, saw missing children on milk cartons and knew the bitter truth of their demise. acceptance had been a burden he took on quicker than most, recognising the time for hope and the time for bitter truths. the truth is muddied now, a clearwater pond turned stagnant and peaty.

nothing is true. everything is permitted.

he had seen feigned dead bodies, long thought lost friends willed back to life. he had borne witness to the stuff of nightmares, teeth unfurling in petaled heads and sentient roots writhing like flesh. he had learned to be frugal in his trust and liberal in his beliefs. the dogmas of hawkins had left him to carve his own path, tussocked and beaten.   in the face of the inevitable, lucas now chose life.

she had to be out there.

his heart had skipped at a hundred red herrings   :   each snapped branch a sign she had passed, each torn fabric a remnant of her existence.   there was a fine line between determination and delusion.   the search had petered out slowly, then all at once, troops dropping off one by one then in groups. lucas remained steadfast and self - negligent, forsaking only the bare minimum food and water to keep him capable in his mission.

when he finally sees her   (   that unmistakable shade of red, matted with mud and blood but her all the same   )   his heart lurches in his throat. a shock to the system   —   the realisation that despite his stubbornness, he too had lost hope. she’s pinned under debris and taken by weakness’ pallor, a horror to behold.   there is no beauty in the fragility of a bird with broken wings. 

❛   —max.   ❜   it’s barely a breath in his mouth, relief encased by the grit of her pain. he feels dizzy with the finality of it, to have found her and still have so long to go before she’s okay. it’s evident what had happened   :   in the search for supplies these decrepit houses were often unstable at best. the collapse of rubble had left her vulnerable.   a moth behind a glass display.   he’s clinical in his response, call for aid delivered into his walkie, fingers checking her pulse - eyes - temperature before working at the weight that traps her.

❛   it’s okay, i’m here. can you hear me   ?   can you move   ?   ❜

the need to establish her condition   /   the fear of overwhelming her entirely.

the humility of a boy who had given his all to find his all again.

his eyes brim over.

tell me why you followed my blog and what made you stay.