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Sometimes, Lucas wished that he’d let Jason pummel him to death in the Creel house.
He didn’t tell anyone, of course. How, exactly, were you supposed to tell your friends and loved ones that you wished you were dead? It was a selfish thought, he knew, given how many people they had lost over these past three years and change. He couldn’t help it though, not in the initial days of Max’s coma, and not six months on with little change in her condition. Her arms had healed, her legs too, but her eyes remained closed and deeply shadowed. She received scans once a week or so to monitor her progress and, according to the doctors, she wasn’t braindead. There was activity there, and she was healing, they insisted. But if (and they always said if) she woke up, she would likely be blind, and even with physical therapy, the likelihood of her regaining full use of her legs was slim.
They didn’t know Max though. She was a fighter, Lucas knew, had known since the day he met her. When she woke up (he and the others always said when), she would relearn how to walk. As for her eyes, well, she was surrounded by people who would happily be those for her.
But six months later, Lucas still woke up most nights with the image of her bones snapping behind his eyelids. He’d learned how to suppress his sobs in his pillow after the twentieth or so time that one of his parents, but more often Erica, and one embarrassing time Mike (though that had led to the deepest, most honest talk they had had in years, so Lucas could live with that) came flying into his room to offer empty comfort. That was, on the nights he could be convinced to leave the hospital. It was only after the Party, in various states of distress and tears, told him that they couldn’t lose him too that he went home more nights than he didn’t.
Then Max’s mom neglected to show up to visit her daughter one day two months after everything. Lucas and Dustin went to her trailer to check on her, skirting the rift in the ground and firmly ignoring the crumbled Munson trailer, only to find it completely empty. No furniture, no clothes, no knickknacks, no note. Nothing. If it weren’t for Max still lying in a coma in the hospital, one might imagine that the Mayfields had never come to Hawkins at all.
It nearly sent Lucas into a tailspin, because maybe the hospital was overworked and Hawkins in general was still trying to sort out how to keep spinning the whole “earthquake” story, but with the government and military presence growing every day, it was only a matter of time before someone took notice of Max’s lack of guardianship. They would take her elsewhere or, God forbid, decide that one unconscious teenager wasn’t worth the funds to keep her alive indefinitely. After all, the state of Indiana wasn’t known for it’s foster care system. And Lucas knew that his parents loved him, would do anything for him, but he knew that adopting his sort-of girlfriend wasn’t in the cards. Especially given that they were already considering leaving Hawkins to begin with. He knew that they were waiting for him to give up on Max before making a permanent decision.
He'd confided in Mike and Will two days after Max’s mom disappeared, three days before Max’s next round of scans was meant to occur and the doctors would have no one to sign the consent forms. Truthfully, he would have told anyone who came into Max’s room that day. But—Lucas almost didn’t say anything at all about his worries, not because he didn’t trust Mike and Will, but because he knew that they had their own shit going on. Will with his continuing connection to the Upside Down that everyone knew about but no one really mentioned, and Mike with his ongoing battle with himself and his own emotions. Lucas wasn’t so self-centered that he hadn’t noticed that Mike hadn’t left Will’s side since the Byers (and El) returned to Hawkins. He still didn’t have the details on what had happened on their cross-country trip, but he knew from El that she had broken it off with Mike shortly after their return. Even before that though, Mike clung to Will in a way that was reminiscent of a much-younger Mike, one who loved all his friends but had a special place for Will at all times.
Lucas was pretty sure he knew exactly what both Mike and Will felt for each other, but it wasn’t his business until they chose to make it so. Besides, they could probably use the time to sort it out between themselves before anyone else got involved.
So he almost held back, that day at the beginning of June. But after not even pretending to try and join in their stilted conversation, Mike briefly abandoned Will’s side to walk around the bed to Lucas’s. “Dude,” he said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “When’s the last time you slept? We talked about this.” His voice was gentle, not in the same soft way he spoke to Will, but it betrayed his concern. And Lucas, embarrassingly, buried his face in his hands and began to cry. Will wasted no time joining him and Mike for an awkward group hug while Lucas explained the situation.
“Either they’ll take her away, or they’ll pull support,” Lucas sobbed into Will’s shoulder, clutching Max’s hand like a lifeline all the while. “And we’ll never get her back.”
He didn’t see Will meet Mike’s eyes over his head, nor the determined expression on Mike’s face. Neither of them left his side for the rest of the morning, but when Robin and Nancy showed up around one for their turn in the rotation (and Lucas knew that that was exactly what they were doing, he wasn’t stupid), Mike and Will pulled Robin out of the room, leaving Lucas and Nancy in a bit of an awkward silence. Lucas wasn’t offended by it, knowing full well that he was probably Nancy’s least favorite out of Mike’s friends simply by virtue of neither of them ever making an effort to get to know one another. Robin returned a few minutes later and immediately launched into some story about Steve that Lucas was sure was embarrassing, if he were paying attention. He liked Robin’s ability to fill almost any silence with chatter and the fact that she didn’t seem to need anyone to actually answer her in a substantial way.
Three days later, Lucas waited with baited breath for the doctors to finally realize that Max’s mom wasn’t there and that it was time to alert the authorities. Erica stood next to him, hands curled into fists like she was ready to fight anyone who tried to take Max away. They’d both slept in Max’s room the night before, or tried to at least. A few minutes before Max’s latest round of scans was due to begin, Mrs. Wheeler and Steve Harrington entered the room. It was such an unlikely pair that Lucas, for a moment, completely forgot about their current dilemma. Steve’s presence in Max’s hospital room wasn’t an unusual one; aside from Lucas and Erica, he was probably there the most. But Mrs. Wheeler hadn’t followed either of her children to the hospital thus far, and as far as Lucas knew, didn’t even know Max that well. At least, he didn’t think so; he’d been vaguely aware of Mike and Max hanging out once or twice at the Wheeler house when the Byers and El had initially left Hawkins the year before, possibly bonding over their best friends leaving. The two of them had a class together at least and, in the rare moments that the Party came together before Max broke up with Lucas last winter, they seemed to be getting along a bit better than before. It didn’t explain Mrs. Wheeler’s sudden appearance though, and certainly not why she was with Steve of all people.
Lucas was even more confused when Mrs. Wheeler was the one to sign the consent forms for Max’s scans, acting like it was something she had been doing all along. Lucas almost followed Max’s bed as she was wheeled away, half afraid it was a trick, but Steve laid a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “It’s just for her normal scans,” he assured Lucas. “They’ll bring her back in a little bit.”
“But…” Lucas exchanged a confused look with Erica. “What…why…?”
Mrs. Wheeler took pity on him. “Why don’t we go down to the cafeteria and have some lunch?” she suggested. “We’ll be back before Max is.”
Apparently, when Mike and Will left the hospital after Lucas’s utter panic, they went straight to Mike’s house to speak to their moms about the situation. Steve would have been the next stop, but he had been at the Wheeler house going over patrol paths with Jonathan and Hopper. They’d tried to form it as a hypothetical, but Mrs. Byers had always been able to read her son like a book, and Mrs. Wheeler, having been clued in to the goings-on of Hawkins and the Upside Down, clocked Mike’s weak attempt at lying immediately. Steve abandoned the planning session with Hopper and Jonathan the second he overheard Max’s name, ever the concerned babysitter/older brother figure, and when Mike and Will admitted that Max’s mom had up and left, his first instinct was to sign the adoption papers.
Lucas sat in vague disbelief and shock, listening to Mrs. Wheeler call Steve’s anxiety over Max’s situation “adorable” while Steve mumbled that he was just doing what anyone would do. In any case, no one was ever going to let a nineteen-year-old adopt an abandoned fifteen-year-old in a coma, ongoing state of emergency or not. But the Wheelers were a well-respected family in the community, Mike and Nancy’s strange ability to end up in emergency situations notwithstanding. Lucas suspected that it wasn’t quite as easy for Mrs. Wheeler to convince whoever was in charge to allow her to step in as Max’s medical proxy and temporary guardian as she made it seem, but he was too grateful to give it much thought. There was a reason the Party had always spent all of their time at Mike’s house, despite Mike’s dad’s clear disapproval, and the basement was only part of it. Mrs. Wheeler had never been anything but welcoming to every single one of them, having no issues with taking on a few extra children several times a week. Right now, one of Mike’s friends, however strange that friendship was, needed help. It was a no-brainer for her.
Lucas had never had an issue with physical affection, not with his family and certainly not with his friends. It still occurred to him, the moment he got up and hugged Mrs. Wheeler and Steve, that he had never initiated any sort of affection with either of them. Mrs. Wheeler took it in stride, embracing him warmly, but he knew he surprised Steve. Not that it stopped Steve from slinging an arm around his neck and not letting go until Lucas did.
The next time he saw Mike (and Will), Lucas hugged him for so long that Mike squirmed a little bit in discomfort. “Dude, it’s nothing,” he tried to say, rubbing a hand over the back of his head awkwardly.
“It’s not nothing,” Lucas said firmly, wiping his eyes as discreetly as he could. “You don’t know what it means to me.” In Max’s latest scans, her brain activity was showing signs of improvement. El, who had snuck in later that night to try and find her again, didn’t have any luck, but Lucas felt like there was more hope now. At least, they had more time to keep trying.
Mike cleared his throat and edged closer to Will, something Lucas had noticed he did more and more. Simply sharing a room with Will wasn’t enough; Mike liked to be touching some part of him at all times if he could help it. Lucas wondered if Mike even knew he was doing it. “It wasn’t just for you,” Mike muttered, avoiding Lucas’s earnest gaze and looking instead at Max’s prone form. “I mean – it was, but. Max is a member of the Party, and she was in need of help, so.” He said it reluctantly, but he said it. Lucas knew that it was probably as close of an admission to caring for Max that anyone would ever get.
“Does this mean you and Max will be siblings now?” Will teased, nudging Mike. That was something else Lucas had noticed: Will rarely initiated physical contact with Mike anymore, but if Mike was already touching him (and he usually was), then Will would lean into it. Just a little bit, and if Lucas hadn’t known to look for it, he wouldn’t have ever seen it. But he’d been the third wheel in their friendship for too long as children to ever not see it.
“God no,” Mike said, feigning disgust. “This is just…convenience, okay? As soon as Max is better, Steve will take unofficial custody of her. He’s already doing his best to convert one of the downstairs rooms in his parents’ house into a bedroom for her. He and Jonathan are going to try to make one of the bathrooms down there easier for her to use too, in case she has to use a wheelchair for a bit when she wakes up. God, can you imagine if Max had to live with me permanently? We’d kill each other.”
“No you wouldn’t,” Lucas played along with Will, feeling light enough to poke fun. “Not intentionally at least.”
“Yeah, it’d be totally accidental,” Will continued. “From turning the basement staircase into a ramp and shoving each other down it in the wheelchair, probably.”
Mike groaned, shoving Will away as he and Lucas laughed. Barely five seconds later, the distance was already closed again so that Mike’s arm brushed against Will’s. Lucas rolled his eyes fondly.
After that, Lucas felt a little safer leaving Max alone with one of the others in the rotation. He always went to see her at least once a day, but he no longer stayed for hours on end, at least not all the time. He trusted Steve and Mike’s mom to keep up with the important things and to help protect her if anything came up. But there were still days like today, when the mid-October chill combined with the dark clouds over Hawkins to make everything feel extra hopeless. And Max, no matter how many comics Lucas read to her, didn’t move. Her eyelids didn’t flutter, her fingers didn’t squeeze his. The casts on her arms and legs were long removed by now, but her face was drawn, a little gaunt. No amount of hospital nutrition being pumped into her veins was enough to keep her weight up, at least not enough for her to look how she had before. And she had already been losing weight as it was. Lucas had seen it, even after they were broken up. He’d given her space like she asked, but he didn’t stop watching her from across the classrooms and halls. He didn’t stop sneaking her favorite candy into her locker, knowing it wasn’t enough but not knowing what else to do, what else she would let him do.
(He wondered, sometimes, if Max had known that he was behind Mike’s penchant for sharing bags of chips with her during their creative writing class together. According to Mike, even after she stopped really talking, she didn’t stop accepting the snacks, letting Mike shove their desks together while they worked on their individual writing assignments in silence. God, Lucas had been so grateful for Mike during those months where Max wasn’t speaking to him, to any of them really. Mike, too, was withdrawn a lot of the time, but he didn’t complain when Lucas asked him to make sure that Max was eating something. Lucas should probably express that gratitude to Mike, even if Mike would more than likely brush it off, forever unable to accept any sort of positive emotion sent his way.)
Dustin only left a little while ago, citing a very rare phone date with Suzie. Lucas didn’t mind; he appreciated his friends’ concern for him and Max, but sometimes it was nice just to sit in the quiet of her hospital room, heart monitor beating in the background, and talk to her. It was a good way to get his thoughts out, even knowing that Max probably couldn’t hear him.
Today’s topic of one-sided conversation was El’s suspicion that something might be going on with Will and Mike. Lucas absolutely shared that suspicion, but he’d been afraid of saying so. He knew that Mike and El had broken up months ago at this point, but neither of them ever really told anyone why they did (El didn’t; Mike had never said anything at all). Lucas loved all of them, and God knew that they deserved to find happiness no matter what it looked like, but he didn’t want it to come at the expense of any one of their other friends. However, El seemed almost…excited at the idea that Mike and Will might have feelings for one another. Lucas was glad she had brought this suspicion to him first (and he confirmed that she did), especially when he had to explain the concept of homophobia and how dangerous it was, at least in small-town Hawkins, for two boys to be together that way.
“I don’t think any of us ever really forget that El grew up in a lab,” Lucas said to Max, recounting the way he’d made El promise not to say anything to anyone else, especially Mike or Will, “but sometimes I think we take for granted all of the social skills we were able to learn that she wasn’t. I mean, she’s totally right, there’s no reason for people to be so awful about people being gay. People should be able to love who they love without it being anyone else’s business.” He sighed. “I don’t think she really gets it, but she’ll keep her mouth shut, I know she will. At least Troy and all of those assholes left Hawkins.” He laughed a little to himself, but also to Max, imagining her smile and fierce agreement (of course she would agree about this, he had no doubt about that). “Man, I wish you could have seen Mike punch Troy in the face before he left though. It was amazing. If Will wasn’t in love with Mike before…”
Only a few weeks after everything with Vecna went down, Lucas had spent a rare afternoon away from Max’s side to volunteer at the help center. He, Mike, and Will had managed to get themselves assigned to sorting food donations and were joking around while they stacked cans and other nonperishables. It was nice, even if there was still the slightest bit of tension between Mike and Will that Lucas had first noticed at the hospital when they returned from California.
Lucas didn’t even know why Troy had come in; his family was pretty well-off in Hawkins and rumor had it that they were leaving besides. But there he was, making a beeline for the three of them, perhaps unable to bear leaving without a parting shot.
Lucas saw it coming from a mile away. Mike had already moved protectively in front of Will, hands curled into fists at his sides, before Troy had even reached their table. To his (very, very small) credit, Troy didn’t actually come around the table to get in their faces. He just picked up random cans and generally disrupted the system that the three of them had come up with, shooting off insults and mocking them. Lucas wasn’t particularly bothered, hadn’t been for a long time. But he wasn’t an easy target anymore, having joined the basketball team and made a bit of a name for himself. Mike got a bit more of it, but he had a good four inches on Troy at this point, and perhaps Troy remembered the mysterious girl who had snapped his arm in half at the quarry years ago and made him pee his pants, because he moved on pretty quickly from Mike too.
Will, though. Will had been gone for a long time, and while the rest of Hawkins either didn’t recognize him (Lucas, once he got over the initial shock of seeing him, had been a little mindblown at how tall and, quite frankly, broad Will had gotten in the six months away) or didn’t care, Troy wasted no time laying into him. And Lucas knew that the responsible thing to do would be to put a hand on Mike’s shoulder, in reassurance or to hold him back, he wasn’t sure. But Mike just kept his body in front of Will’s, even as his brow furrowed at the familiar “Zombie Boy” insult and the suggestion that Will should disappear again into one of the fissures in the earth. Troy didn’t seem to notice the dangerous flash in Mike’s dark eyes when he started in on the older insults, mocking Will for hiding behind his “boyfriend.”
And that might have been it. Mike didn’t move, didn’t do a thing except stare at Troy like he would explode him with his mind if he could. But then Troy decided to call Will a queer, a fairy, a—
Lucas probably could have stopped Mike from rounding the table. Will tried to catch Mike’s arm as he went, but Mike either dodged or had learned how to move faster than the speed of light. Between one word and what would presumably be an even worse one, Mike’s fist had collided with Troy’s nose with a crunch and suddenly, there was blood everywhere. Troy was doubled over in pain, holding his face and crying out in shock, and Lucas did move then. He remembered Dustin telling him about the knife at the quarry, and Troy had only gotten more unstable over the years. It would not surprise Lucas at all if his next move was to take out that knife and start swinging at Mike with it.
Lucas was about to step between them when Mike hauled Troy back up by the collar of his shirt, ducking his head down so that he was nose to bloody nose with the other boy. “Don’t you ever call him or anyone that,” Mike snarled in Troy’s face, “ever again. Don’t even look at him. You understand me?”
Six months on, and Lucas still couldn’t decide if Troy had truly been intimidated by Mike or if Lucas’s presence at Mike’s back at been what made him back away, hands raised in surrender. Other volunteers were coming to see what was going on, and the supervisor asked if he was okay, but Troy just waved all of them off and left, pinching his nose to stem the blood. He’d looked like he might be crying and, in any case, Mike had definitely broken his nose if the bruises already forming under his eyes were any indication. Mike shook off Lucas’s concern, wrung his hand out a little, and accepted the ice pack that someone gave him for his knuckles. And Will—
Will looked at Mike like he’d hung the moon, totally open and unguarded for the first time since he’d come back.
But then again, he’d always looked at Mike like that, ever since they were children. Still, it was the first indication for Lucas that something had shifted between Mike and Will, something important. Actions spoke pretty loudly, but Lucas had taken notice that Mike only threw a punch when the derogatory words came out. Mike hadn’t even blinked at Troy calling him Will’s boyfriend.
Lucas was broken out of his reminiscing when the door opened. To Lucas’s surprise, Nancy was alone. “Hey,” she said. Even more surprising, her shotgun was slung over her back. She usually only carried the pistol in public, which was much easier to conceal.
“How did you even get in here with that?” he asked, motioning to the sawed-off. The hospital pretty much had a constant military presence by now, carefully guarded from the ever-increasing sightings and attacks from Demogorgons and Demodogs. Not that they’d come for the hospital, but a building full of innocent, injured people was an obvious place to keep watch over.
Nancy shrugged, taking a seat on Max’s other side. “They have bigger problems than civilians openly carrying,” she said nonchalantly. Lucas had a sneaking feeling that she was lying to him, but she went on before he could call her on it. “Anyway, Mike just radioed everyone; Will has had a really bad chill all day and Mike thinks something might be about to happen.”
“Vecna?” Lucas said, sitting up straighter.
“Will doesn’t think so,” Nancy said quickly, “and honestly, you know how Mike is, it’s probably nothing. It’s October, it’s cold, and Will, well, you know. He doesn’t like the cold. But you didn’t answer your Walkie, so I kind of booked it over here.” She frowned at him in that mom-like way she had, the same expression that Mike had become frighteningly good at imitating. Lucas wondered if either of them even knew they did it. “You know you’re supposed to keep it on at all times.”
“I didn’t realize it was off,” Lucas said honestly. He grabbed it out of his backpack, fiddling with the dials. There was no static or indication of the channel changing. “Damn it, I think it’s dead. I’m sorry.” Thankfully, when he changed the batteries, it came back to life.
“Just try to keep a closer eye next time,” Nancy told him. She shifted a little uncomfortably. “Dustin mentioned that you’ve been here since yesterday morning.”
It was Lucas’s turn to shrug and avoid eye contact. “Yeah, I just—I wanted to be with her.” Nancy shifted again, crossing and uncrossing her legs. “Let me guess – you drew the short straw to try and convince me to go home?”
“Your mom was at mine,” Nancy answered. “She knew I was coming and asked me to just ask you to come home tonight.”
“Where’s Jonathan?” Lucas was pretty sure that he was supposed to be with Nancy on any patrols this week, and no one was supposed to go anywhere alone anymore.
Nancy opened her mouth to answer (and, undoubtedly, to call him on avoiding the subject), but what sounded like a gunshot sounded off in the distance. She frowned, moving to the window. Gunshots weren’t terribly unusual in Hawkins, what with the semi-frequent sightings of monsters roaming the streets, coming up from ever-unpredictably opening gates and the fissures. Lucas had never heard any close to the hospital before though. Small blessings, if anyone could believe in them anymore.
Going by Nancy’s eyes widening and how she swung the sawed-off into her hands, that appeared to be over.
“Nance?” Lucas asked cautiously. They were on the third floor; surely she didn’t need the gun.
“Get Max unhooked from everything,” Nancy ordered.
“What?”
“Now, Lucas!”
Earlier that day, Lucas had cracked the window for a bit of airflow. It was colder outside than it should have been for October, but the hospital got stuffy sometimes, and Max’s color always seemed to improve slightly from the fresh air. Now though, it only served to amplify the chilling growls and chitters that Lucas hadn’t heard so many of at one time since they burned the tunnels two years ago. Cold that had nothing to do with the open window washed through him, filling him with anxiety. Without another word, he grabbed a pad of gauze and medical tape and set about unhooking Max’s IV line.
He only knew what to do because he’d watched the doctors and nurses do everything so many times over the last six months. He pressed the gauze firmly over the needle in Max’s skin before removing it, not bothering to try to stem the flow of clear liquid that dribbled all over the floor in favor of firmly securing the gauze to the inside of her elbow. Next, the cannula in her nostrils was gently removed, as well as the sticky tabs on her chest that helped monitor her heartrate and oxygen levels.
Somewhere in his head was paralyzing fear that he was about to kill her. The doctors had said many times that she could breathe on her own, but she almost constantly had an oxygen mask or cannula to assist just in case. Lucas didn’t know how long she could go without it, if she would slowly suffocate. But there wasn’t a choice now; whatever Nancy was watching outside had her checking her bag for more rounds, checking the rounds she already had loaded into the shotgun.
There were more gunshots popping off outside, and just as Lucas shrugged on his backpack, the alarms inside began to blare. Some audio recording telling whoever might be listening was ordering everyone to find shelter, but Nancy had raised her Walkie to her mouth. “Code red at the hospital, I repeat, this is a code red at the hospital. Does anyone copy?” Two seconds of silence, and she said, “This is a code red at the hospital, me and Lucas are pinned down! Does anyone copy?!”
Static, and then: “This is Mike, Will, and El,” Mike’s voice crackled. “We copy, we are on the way. Over.”
“Hurry,” Nancy said as calmly as she could. “We’ll meet you in the lot by my car. Be ready. Over.”
“Hear you loud and clear, Nance,” Mike answered. “Five minutes, over and out.”
Lucas didn’t wait for Nancy to tell him what to do. With steadier hands than he thought he should have, he hauled Max into his arms. She was frighteningly light, nowhere near the girl who used to jump on his back and take them both down to the ground with shouts of laughter. He hadn’t been so afraid since he watched her die in the Creel house, crying out for Erica and unable to do anything but wait for an ambulance. That fear had buzzed through his whole body then, making his hands shake violently as he cradled her close. If he allowed himself to think about it, he knew it would overtake him again. So Lucas didn’t think. He cradled Max to his chest and followed Nancy out the door.
Aside from the blaring alarms, it was eerily silent in the hallways. There was no one in sight besides them; presumably they had taken shelter in patient rooms or broom closets or operating suites. Lucas had the fleeting thought that they should let the military outside handle the attack, that they would be safer remaining in Max’s room. But Nancy was leading them to the stairs, gun in hand and ready to shoot. And the lack of activity ceased when they were halfway between the second and first floor as the second floor doorway burst open and the snarl of a Demodog filled the air.
“Duck!” Nancy yelled, whirling around. Lucas didn’t need to be told twice, falling to his ass on the stairs as she lifted the gun to her shoulder. The Demodog was loud, but Nancy’s shot was louder, ringing in his ears almost painfully. “Come on,” she said, grabbing his shoulder to help him stand again. They were running now, as best as they could when Lucas was carrying Max’s dead weight.
The lobby was a warzone. Men and women in camouflage jackets with automatic rifles shouted to each other, firing off shot after shot. The floor was already slick with the blood of Demodogs and fallen people alike. Soldiers, doctors, nurses, patients, visiting family and friends, the Demodogs weren’t discriminatory with their attacks. Lucas couldn’t hear Nancy’s orders anymore, but he got the idea and made straight for the front doors, trusting her to cover his back and the military to intercept any Demodogs coming from outside.
He’d just made it to the door when it rotated sharply, hitting his forehead where he had just reached out to shove it enough for him to fit through. The only reason he didn’t fall was Nancy’s back to his, steadying him unintentionally. Blood dripped into his eye, half-blinding him, but Lucas shoved past the soldier who had come in and was trying to say something to him. He was vaguely aware of Nancy yelling something at the grizzled looking man, perhaps telling him to get out of their way, Lucas wasn’t sure. The only thing in his mind now: get Max to safety.
The parking lot, somehow, was even worse. Countless Demodogs darted about, screeching and tearing into anyone they could with their claws and gaping maws. Cars were overturned, people were screaming, and Lucas couldn’t hear past the strange buzzing in his ears. Miraculously, he saw Nancy’s car near the doors almost completely unscathed. Running towards him were Mike, Will, and El, the last of which had a hand raised up.
The rest was a blur that Lucas couldn’t possibly have described if asked about later. Between one second and the next, El had pulled him behind her and shoved him towards Nancy’s car. He slid into the backseat, Max’s head and shoulders in his lap, while Mike put the keys in the ignition and Will fired off shots with a rifle Lucas thought might have belonged to his asshole of a father at some point. And then they were driving away, and if Lucas had a thought to spare, he would be wondering when Mike had learned how to drive. As it was, he was desperately trying to figure out if Max was still breathing, if her heart was still beating, but he couldn’t tell over the rumble of the car and the uneven pavement.
He was crying, he knew, could feel the tears flowing and mixing with the blood from the cut still dripping into his eyes, but Lucas didn’t care. His ears were still buzzing and El was saying something to him, but he couldn’t make out what. It wasn’t until they were safely inside the Wheeler house’s basement that his senses slowly returned to him, one by one. He became aware of the coffee table digging painfully into his back where he leaned against it, then the sting of the cut above his eyebrow. Slowly, his friends’ voices filtered in as the adrenaline faded and his hearing returned. Mike was standing with a hand on the back of Will’s neck, saying something to Nancy that sounded suspiciously like, “I told you so.” El sat in front of Lucas, quietly telling him, “This might sting.” He fuzzily wondered what she meant, chest still heaving with sobs, before the cut suddenly flared with pain as she began dabbing at it with peroxide. He flinched away and it was like a balloon popping, the way everything suddenly rushed back in.
“Max,” Lucas croaked, looking down at the girl still laying unconscious (please, please just let her be unconscious, he thought) in his lap. He raised a violently shaking hand to her neck, laying two fingers over her pulse point. For a heartstopping moment, he felt nothing except the vibrating of his own skin. Then: a pulse, strong and unmistakable. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, measured and long, as if she were sleeping. “She’s alive,” he mumbled to himself, barely noticing El cleaning the remaining blood from his face and sticking a bandage over the cut.
“Yes,” El agreed absently. “Lucas, I need your help.”
This is what finally caught Lucas’s attention, enough to fully draw him back to the present. El had never asked for his help before; he’d never imagined that she would ever need it. She quite literally had telekinetic superpowers, not to mention Mike’s unwavering support even after their breakup and Will’s steadfast presence as her adopted brother. What could Lucas possibly do?
“My…help?” he managed.
“I have an idea,” El said, stronger now, more firm. Something flickered in her eyes. Doubt, maybe, or perhaps fear. She continued anyway: “I think I know how to get her back, but I need you to help me.”
“Anything,” Lucas breathed, unconsciously clutching Max closer. “Anything.”
Apparently, Mike, Will, and El had already been on their way to the hospital when Nancy radioed for help. “I don’t know,” Will said helplessly when Nancy asked him how he knew. “He isn’t saying anything, he’s still…recovering, I think.” Mike wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders automatically, as if Will being in distress was unacceptable to him. Lucas might smile if things weren’t so dire right now. “I just…I knew Max was in danger. Maybe because he didn’t really succeed? She did die, but then she came back. It was enough to open the fourth gate, but…I think that, for him to really have her strength, she has to be dead.” Will shrank in on himself, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He seemed surprised when he encountered Mike’s arm in the way. “And I just…I’ve been so cold, all day, and I…”
“He’s not using Will to spy,” Mike said confidently, answering the question they were all thinking. “This isn’t like that.”
“How do you know?” Nancy retorted sharply. She winced immediately. “I’m sorry, Will, but we need to know.”
“No, I get it,” Will answered quickly, but his face crumpled a little and he touched his side absently. “It’s different than that. He’s not…in me, the way the Mind Flayer was. I’m still me, I know it.”
“I know it,” Mike insisted, glaring at them all despite the fact that Lucas and El hadn’t said anything to the contrary. “Besides, Will took a hot shower this morning and he’s wearing, like, four layers.” No one argued with him, perhaps remembering how Mike hadn’t left Will’s side for three days during the possession. If anyone would be able to recognize the signs, it was him.
“What about now?” El asked Will, voice gentle but urgent. “The Demodogs did not follow us; why?”
Will shrugged miserably and Mike tugged him further into his side. “I don’t know. But we’re safe, for now. We need to get her back though; I’m not sure we’ll get another chance.”
El took a deep breath, hand squeezing Lucas’s where it lay on Max’s forehead. “Okay,” she said. “Then we will get her back.”
The plan went like this: El believed that she could piggyback into Lucas’s head the way she had Max’s and, from there, bring him with her into the mindscape. “You need to pick the happiest memory of Max that you have,” she told him as they situated themselves on the floor in front of the couch. The coffee table was shoved away so that they could lay Max on the floor between them, head on a throw pillow. “I do not know if this will help, but it can’t hurt; do you have her favorite music?”
Lucas’s face fell. “The Kate Bush tape was broken at the Creel house,” he said, feeling an old flash of fury. If Jason hadn’t shown up, Max would still be here.
“No wait, I can help with that,” Mike cut in. He darted up the stairs, dragging Will along with him (not that Will was complaining, Lucas noted). They returned a couple minutes later, cassette tape and boombox in hand. Will seemed to have recovered a little bit from the stress of the day so far, mercilessly teasing Mike about his abysmal taste in music.
“Dude, why do you have every one of Cyndi Lauper’s tapes?”
“Shut up,” Mike shot back, blushing furiously but still looking at Will with his typical soft expression. “She’s got a beautiful voice, okay?”
“It’s not just her, you listen to so many popstars—” Will was laughing as they set up the boombox on the coffee table.
“At least I’m not a total music snob like you—”
“Guys, seriously?” Nancy said, exasperated.
“And besides, it’s paying off right now, isn’t it?” Mike waved the Kate Bush tape before he shoved it into the boombox.
“Didn’t Max give that to you for Christmas as a joke?” Lucas asked.
“Maybe,” Mike answered evasively, “but she doesn’t need to know that I actually kind of like it. None of you are going to tell her,” he added, pointing at each of them threateningly.
“I make no promises,” Will said solemnly, corner of his mouth twitching.
“I will make you sleep on the floor tonight, Byers.”
Nancy raised an eyebrow. “He isn’t already sleeping there?”
“You mind your business.” Mike hit a button and a familiar melody filled the air. “Will and I hear enough of yours and Jonathan’s activities.” It was Nancy’s turn to go red, and she wisely shut her mouth. Lucas was too keyed up to join in on the teasing, but if things went well and they somehow got Max back, he was absolutely going to tear Mike to shreds over these revelations. Actually, best let Max do that, Lucas thought absently. She deserved to have a little fun.
El shushed everyone. “Okay,” she said, voice shaking slightly. “Mike, Will, Nancy, you can stay, but you need to be quiet. Lucas, are you ready?”
Lucas looked down at Max’s peaceful face one last time. He wondered if she could hear them, if she knew they were coming for her. “Let’s get her back,” he responded. He tied the blindfold around his eyes until no more light came in. There was some shuffling, the couch dipping slightly behind his back as someone settled, and he thought that he heard Mike say something quietly to Will near the wall. He felt El blindly take one of his hands, and he took one of Max’s, stretched out into his lap. And then:
He began to remember.
***
Something was happening.
Max didn’t know how long she had been wandering about in her own memories. It wasn’t conscious, not at first; at first, in fact, there had been nothing. Nothing but endless blackness with no light or color in sight, no matter how far she ran. The last thing she remembered was Vecna’s hand over her face, claws piercing her head. She remembered agony and sightlessness, the vague knowledge that Lucas was holding her but unable to feel his arms around her body. She’d…fallen asleep, she thought, to the sound of his voice, choked up and broken by tears. He’d called for Erica, he’d said Max’s name, and then…
The blackness.
She wasn’t sure how long she had wandered it, screaming for Lucas, for El, for her mom. She’d cried out for each and every person she loved, from Steve, who had taken it upon himself to show her what a real brother would be, to Nancy and Robin, who she admired but hadn’t had the chance to get to know, to Dustin and Mike and Will, the boys who had shown her varying degrees of welcome but never hesitated to stand at her side when it mattered. Once, very briefly, she thought she saw Eddie, his back to her and walking away. She screamed his name, chased after him, but he dissipated into the dark and she was left wondering if he had even been there at all.
Surely, Max thought, this was hell. This empty blackness, void of all sound and imagery. Any moment, Vecna would reappear and take her back to the warped, twisted red hell that his house floated about in broken pieces. She would join Chrissy and Fred and Patrick, doomed to be one of his broken trophies. Max would be forced to watch as Vecna destroyed everything she knew.
But he didn’t come.
When the panic subsided and Max realized that she wasn’t going to escape, she did the only thing she could think to do: she began to remember. She sorted through her life, from the earliest memory she had of a blurry-faced man who laughed loudly and spun her around in dizzying circles while she laughed too, clutching his hands with chubby fists. The images became clearer the longer she tried; a boy whose name she couldn’t remember, teaching her how to skateboard on the playground during recess; her mom bandaging scraped knees and elbows, shaking her head fondly as Max immediately raced off to practice some more; a skate park full of friends; a younger, quieter, softer Billy who didn’t really talk to her, but always moved in front of her when his father began to rage; the same Billy who silently protected her before, becoming her tormenter when their parents decided that a move would save their marriage, a marriage that both children knew was doomed from the beginning.
The first memory that Max found herself fully falling into was with Mike Wheeler, of all people.
“I could be your Zoomer.”
“That’s not even a real thing!”
“It could be!”
It was like immersing herself in the memory of the Snowball. Max could feel the slight chill in the gym, see the late-afternoon light streaming through the windows. She could feel the curiosity that spiked at the first mention of El, see the flash of regret and sadness on Mike’s face, masked immediately by an irritated scowl. It was like she was skating circles around him all over again, determined for reasons she couldn’t figure out to make this stupid boy with his stupid hair and stupid sweater like her, or at least accept her. The triumph she felt when he finally broke out into a reluctant smile, then a laugh, curled warmly in her chest, quickly followed by the swooping sensation in her stomach as her board was yanked out from under her feet. Mike had helped her to her feet, and the ghost of a firm hand around her forearm was like a brand before he darted away without explanation, rushing out of the gym.
And then everything had gone to hell. But for a rare moment, she and Mike had been on common ground.
Max wasn’t sure that she really liked being back inside her memories like this, reliving moments long passed. Phantom touches and feelings, from Dustin’s goofy smile to Lucas’s hand clutching hers as Demodogs stormed the abandoned, scrapped bus. Joy and terror and confusion and love that belonged to a past her. It’s still mine, Max thought fiercely as her lips pressed to Lucas’s for the fourth time, standing outside of fourth period English. He’d walked her there, that first day back from winter break, hands brushing hesitantly as they tried to find the courage to bridge the gap. The first two kisses were her, at the Snowball and then in the Wheeler’s basement at a New Year’s party that Mike had reluctantly invited her along to. The third was Lucas, a safe distance away from her house where he’d walked her home that night. The fourth was both of them, blushing outside a classroom and choosing to make it a mutual thing.
Max had stopped keeping track after that. She wished she hadn’t now. If this was all she had, the memories of a short life lived, then she should have paid closer attention.
She was in the middle of watching/remembering/re-experiencing her first real interaction with Will (eighth grade math, fighting through polynomials and x = whatever) when she heard a voice that didn’t belong. “Either they’ll take her away, or they’ll pull support. And we’ll never get her back.” Max startled so badly that the memory almost faded entirely; she had to fight to keep listening to Will as he told her more about how he first met Mike, and later Lucas and Dustin. She couldn’t help being distracted from his strange melancholy though. Lucas wasn’t in that class, was he?
No, she decided, he hadn’t been. Maybe it was odd, but she had liked the fact that she and Will shared a class, all on their own. He didn’t really open up until the end of that January, still unsure of her, or maybe just following Mike’s stubborn determination to exclude Max at every turn. She certainly wouldn’t have gotten the chance to know him without their math class. So why was Lucas’s voice echoing around them? Why didn’t Will hear it, and why did Lucas sound like he was crying?
It wasn’t the first time she heard someone’s voice that shouldn’t be there. Steve and Robin talked over themselves at Scoops:
“Dingus, your children are here!”
“Again, seriously?”
And even as their mouths moved and Mike slammed the bell once more, “So you’ve finally achieved your goal of adopting a child. Good job, buddy! One down, five to go.”
“Yeah, yeah. Look, someone’s got to look out for her, okay?”
Max watched El try on different outfits in the mall with something like pride while Lucas and Dustin argued good-naturedly about Mike’s crush on Will:
“There’s no way. Come on, they’ve always been like this. This isn’t any different than when we were kids.”
“Exactly man! They’ve always been like this, except when Mike was dating El! Now that he’s not anymore, it’s like he has permission to be that way again. If there wasn’t something there, there would be no reason for him to have ignored Will in the first place!”
“Wait, El and Mike broke up?”
“Come on, Dustin, keep up.”
Max shook Billy’s shoulders while he choked on his own blood, crying for the brother she wished she’d had, and Mike read a Wonder Woman issue aloud with stupidly exaggerated voices, Lucas and Will snickering in the background.
Max watched Mike walk into third period creative writing the first day of freshman year, scowling and then confused at the sight of her, before taking the seat next to her at her gesture. Somewhere outside the door of the classroom, Jonathan reassured Nancy that college would still be there after everything, and if it wasn’t, then they’d lost anyway, so what did it matter?
Max hugged El as tightly as she could on a sunny October morning, a moving truck behind them, and felt something click in her brain as she watched Mike practically fall into Will’s arms shortly before the Byers and El drove away, headed for California. At the same time, Mrs. Wheeler and Steve talked about the logistics of caring for a disabled teenager.
Max knocked on the Wheelers’ door, arms wrapped around her body and trying not to sniffle too obviously. Mrs. Wheeler ushered her inside, calling for Mike, and Max was fully prepared to be yelled at, or laughed at, or kicked out in favor of finding Lucas and checking on him. Instead, Mike gave her a rare hug, led her down to the basement, and pretended not to see her tears while they watched Star Wars. In return, Max pretended that she didn’t see a letter on the desk with the words Dear Will at the top. When she left later that evening, feeling better despite all of ten words having been spoken between them, she swore she heard Lucas and Erica arguing about what kind of D&D character Max would play from Lucas’s house a couple hundred feet away.
Max called the Byers to wish them a Merry Christmas and had a hard time hearing Will’s faux-casual question about Mike over Dustin talking excitedly about finally being able to talk on the phone with Suzie.
Max silently shared a bag of chips with Mike while they peer-reviewed each other’s creative writing pieces as Lucas recalled Mike punching Troy, who Max had never really paid attention to, in the face for Will’s honor. She briefly wondered why Mike hadn’t told her about that; it would have won him cool points, though he would have lost them immediately upon believing her when she took him to a thrift store and insisted that, “I promise, you’ll fit right in,” with the stupid hat and sunglasses and flipflops.
Max shared a smile with Lucas in the back of a stolen trailer home while Nancy urgently told Lucas to unhook her from everything (what was Max hooked up to?).
Max shared another smile with Lucas in a dark, abandoned house, holding a rough sketch of two stick figures holding hands over a popcorn bucket. Screams echoed around her and someone jostled them, but when she looked around, no one else was in the house.
And Max was running out of memories now; she didn’t really want to relive the pain that Vecna inflicted upon her. Instead, she went back to the Snowball. Maybe it was stupid, but what else did she have to do? She’d have to start cycling through again, she decided as she put her hands on Lucas’s shoulders and began to sway to the music playing. Except…Lucas was tall, taller than he should be, and…was that…stubble? He’d started shaving occasionally during freshman year before they broke up, but this was too early for that. Wasn’t it?
“I think I’m losing my mind,” she told him. She felt more calm about that than she knew she should, but that was okay. Perhaps the memories would blend together into a future she would never experience. She was no Mike when it came to storytelling, but no one was listening except for her; it didn’t have to be perfect. It just had to be good. Starting with dancing with an older Lucas in the middle school gym.
Lucas’s eyes were shining with unshed tears though. “No,” he said, “it’s me. It’s me, Max. I found you. We found you.”
“Found me?” Max started to withdraw, alarm bells ringing in her head. “Lucas—”
“Max,” and when she turned around, Lucas’s arms tightening around her waist, El was there too. She wasn’t wearing the cute dress she’d worn when she danced with Mike at the Snowball though; she was dressed instead in a jacket that Max knew for sure belonged to Lucas, and her hair was curly but not styled, just brushing against her jaw. “Max, it’s time to go home.”
“El, what’s happening?” Max didn’t know if she’d ever been so confused before. Was this Vecna again? Had he found her?
Hawkins Middle School gym was fading around her, The Police quieting, until all that was left was the terrible black void. But she wasn’t alone now. Lucas still held her, and El laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I don’t understand,” Max choked out, both terribly afraid and deeply relieved and unsure which emotion to trust. “You guys shouldn’t be here. Why are you here?”
“You need to wake up now,” El said gently.
“I don’t—I can’t,” Max protested. “He got me. I’m stuck here.”
Lucas’s fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her head until she looked back at him. The tears broke free, running down his face, and she did what she had wanted to do when she broke up with him for the last time and brushed them away with her thumbs. She cradled his cheeks in her hands and memorized his face, knowing deep down that she was never going to see it again. “Max,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “you can do it. Come back with me.”
“I’m scared,” she whimpered, hating herself for it. Fear was a weakness, though none of their Party had ever made her feel worse for feeling it.
“It’s going to be okay,” El promised, squeezing her shoulder. “We will be right there, okay? On the count of three.” A pause, and then, “One.”
Max reached up with one hand and took El’s.
“Two.”
With her free hand, Max grabbed Lucas’s. She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to be brave.
“Three.”
Max opened her eyes, and saw…nothing.
But the scent of Lucas’s cologne twined with the subtle, popcorn-and-fuzzy-blankets smell of the Wheelers’ basement. Mike and Will’s voices rang loudly from somewhere nearby, talking over each other in excited tones that quickly came closer. Someone was holding both her hands, arms awkwardly stretched over her head.
And Lucas’s lips brushed against her forehead again, soft and warm and real.