Chapter 47

This chapter is quite long so apologies in advance 😭

Maggie is barely holding onto consciousness, clinging to it by instinct alone. Blood pours from her shoulder, oozing slower but still relentless. Red seeps through the bandage wrapped tight around her thigh, blooming in dark patches. Her face aches deeply, swelling as bruises rise beneath the skin, and her arm burns with a raw heat where skin was scorched somewhere along the way.

She can’t remember when that happened.

Her feet drag uselessly against the concrete as two soldiers haul her down the hallway. Each step sends a jolt up her spine, but the pain feels muffled and far away. Her head lolls forward, then snaps back slightly as a door opens.

Robin’s panincked voice cuts through screaming her name. That’s what makes Maggie’s eyes flutter open.

Her body is dropped unceremoniously, hitting the floor like a discarded puppet. The impact should hurt, but all she feels is the cold seeping into her cheek.

She forces her eyes open just enough to see Robin collapse beside her, hands scrambling uselessly. Steve’s body is slumped nearby, face swollen and bruised, blood dried at his temple.

“No,” Maggie whispers.

She drags herself upright an inch at a time, muscles screaming in protest. Every breath feels like lifting a weight. Her vision swims, but she focuses on Steve’s face and the stillness of him.

She reaches out with trembling fingers. There’s nothing left in her, but she reaches anyway.

The power answers weakly, like a dying pulse.

Robin watches, frozen, as some of the bruising fades from Steve’s face, the swelling easing just slightly. At the same time, Maggie’s skin darkens further, color blooming violently across her cheek and jaw. Her breath hitches sharply as the pain transfers into her.

It’s too much. Her arm gives out. Her body folds in on itself, and she collapses back to the floor. The room tilts violently before it goes dark once again.

“What the—” Robin starts.

The door opens. An officer strides in, boots echoing sharply against the concrete. Robin whirls toward him, fury and terror breaking through her fear.

“What did you do to them?” she screams, “What did you do?!”

The answer comes as a hard slap across her face.

Robin hits the floor with a groan. The officer barks an order in Russian.

Soldier hands grab them again. Maggie doesn’t feel herself being lifted this time. She doesn’t feel the ropes tightening around her or the chair beneath her.

“Guys, wake up. Please,” Robin begs, voice cracking as she twists against the ropes. They’re tied back-to-back-to-back in a little triangle, shoulders pressed together.

Her chair scrapes uselessly against the concrete as she thrashes. The officer strolls around them like he’s inspecting furniture. He stops in front of Steve, grabs a fistful of hair, and yanks his head up.

The officer clicks his tongue in disappointment and he moves on.

He does the same to Maggie, fingers tangling in her hair, forcing her head up. Her face is slack, bruised dark and ugly, and there’s blood dried at the corner of her mouth.

“Poor little mouse,” the officer murmurs.

“Don’t touch them!” Robin screams, lunging forward.

The officer doesn’t even flinch.

“I think your friends need doctors,” he says calmly, “Good thing… we have the very best.”

He kneels in front of Robin and laughs mockingly.

Robin spits straight in his face. The room goes very quiet. The officer wipes his cheek slowly.

“You are going to regret that,” he says softly, “Сука.”

He stands and barks an order. The soldiers begin to file out, boots retreating down the hallway as Robin calls after them, voice hoarse with rage.

“Hey,” Steve slurs weakly, “Would you stop yelling?”

Robin whips her head around.

“Steve! Oh my God. Are–are you okay?”

Steve squints, eyes barely open.

“My ears are ringing. I can’t really breathe. My eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of my skull,” he mutters, “But apart from that… really good.”

He swallows, “Maggie okay?”

Robin’s face crumples, “She’s still out. She looks… she looks a whole lot worse than you do. She’s bleeding everywhere.”

The words tumble out of her, “And something weird happened. I know this sounds insane but sh–she took some of your bruises. Like they just… disappeared off you and showed up on her.”

Steve presses his eyes shut, leaning his head back against the chair with a quiet groan.

“Yeah,” he says, “That checks out.”

Robin stops, “Huh?”

“She’s… weird,” Steve says faintly, “Saw her slit her throat once and transfer it. Super freaky.”

Robin groans, tipping her head back, “Could this day get any weirder?”

“Don’t,” Maggie rasps.

Her head lolls weakly from side to side, eyes barely cracked open. Her voice is thin, just above a whisper.

“Don’t jinx it.”

“Maggie,” Robin breathes, relief crashing through her, “Holy shit.”

Maggie swallows, grimacing as she shifts against the restraints.

“How bad do I look?” she asks groggily.

Robin lets out a shaky laugh, “I don’t think you want the answer to that. The good news is they’re getting you guys a doctor.”

Maggie’s eyes widen a fraction. Her voice jumps at least two octaves, turning sing-song despite everything.

“Oh no,” she says, “Bad. Very bad. Not good for us.”

Steve lets out a weak snort, “Still got jokes.”

“Dying hurts less if I’m annoying,” Maggie murmurs.

“Steve,” Robin says urgently, craning her neck as far as it will go without yanking the rope digging into her shoulders, “Do you see the table to your right?”

Steve blinks through swollen eyes. A metal table sits just out of reach, with one pair of scissors lying close to the edge.

He hums softly, “Yeah. I see it.”

“Okay,” Robin says, forcing herself to stay calm, “Those scissors. I think if we all move at the same time, we can scoot over there. I’ll try to knock them into your lap.”

Maggie lets out a low, exhausted groan from behind them, “You’re assuming I can jump. Or move. Or exist.”

“You’ll have to jump backward,” Robin continues anyway, “and Steve and I jump to the side. Just little hops.”

“This isn’t gonna go well,” Maggie mutters.

“We can try,” Steve says, jaw setting, “I’ve done dumber things.”

“On the count of three, we’re gonna hop,” Robin instructs.

“Oh, God, here we go,” Maggie whines, already bracing.

“One,” Robin says.

Steve inhales.

“Two.”

Maggie squeezes her eyes shut.

“Three!”

They jump. It’s clumsy, but somehow it works. Their chairs scrape loudly against the concrete, the sound echoing in the empty room. Maggie bites down hard on her lip as her injured leg screams in protest.

“Okay,” Robin breathes, “That worked.”

“Again,” Steve says, glancing toward the table.

“Do we have to celebrate after we’re free?” Maggie grumbles.

“One, two, three!”

They hop again. This time the movement is rougher, but they gain another foot.

Robin’s grin is wild, “Holy shit, this is gonna work!”

“We’re close,” Steve says, “Ready?”

They don’t wait long enough to reset. They just had to get too excited.

“Three!”

Steve’s foot slips on the smooth concrete. Maggie kicks back too hard, misjudging her strength. The balance they barely had vanishes in an instant.

The chairs tip.

They go down in a tangle of limbs and curses. Steve and Robin hit the floor on their sides, air knocked from their lungs. Maggie lands on top of them, staring straight up at the ceiling.

“I feel like an overturned turtle,” Maggie mutters, staring blankly at the cracked ceiling, arms pinned uselessly at her sides.

Robin’s body starts to shake underneath her.

At first Steve assumes the worst.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says quickly, trying to soothe her, “Hey. We’re good. We’re fine.”

A small giggle slips out of Robin’s mouth.

Steve gapes, “Are you… are you laughing?”

The sound hits Maggie like a switch being flipped. A sharp bark of laughter bursts from her chest, and another, until it turns into a full-on cackle she can’t stop even if she wanted to.

Steve exhales hard through his nose as both girls dissolve into manic laughter.

Robin wheezes, gasping between laughs, “I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington and Maggie Byers. It’s just too trippy, man.”

“We’re not gonna die,” Steve insists.

“Says the one who’s not actively bleeding out,” Maggie shoots back, still laughing.

“Can you just—” Steve groans, “You gotta let me think for a second.”

Robin barrels right past that, “Do you remember Mrs. Click’s sophomore history class?”

“What?” Steve asks, thrown completely off balance.

“Mrs. Clickity-Clackity,” Robin continues, voice oddly soft, “That’s what us band dweebs called her. First period. Tuesdays and Thursdays. You were always late.”

Steve swallows.

“And you always had the same breakfast,” she says, “Bacon, egg, and cheese on a sesame bagel. Every time. I sat behind you two days a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mister Cool. King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?”

Steve shakes his head slowly, guilt washing over his face.

Robin sighs, “Of course you don’t. You were a real asshole, you know that?”

Maggie snorts, “No kidding.”

“But it didn’t even matter,” Robin keeps going, words spilling, “I was still… obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretend we’re above it all, we still just wanna be popular. Accepted. Normal.”

Maggie’s eyes widen slightly. She mouths what the fuck to herself, staring at nothing.

Steve’s voice drops, “If it makes you feel any better… having all those things wasn’t so great. Seriously.”

He exhales, “Everything people tell you is important, everything you’re supposed to care about… it’s all just bullshit.”

Maggie lets out a soft, breathy laugh, “I know how much you love that word, Stevie.”

She then furrows her brows, “Robin, are you in love with Steve?”

Before anyone can say anything else, a harsh buzzer erupts. The door slams open, flooding the room with heavy footsteps.

The officer from before lets out an amused chuckle as he surveys the wreckage on the floor. He clasps his hands behind his back and tilts his head.

“Where were you three going?” he asks mildly.

Three guards move in at once, rough hands grabbing shoulders and arms. Steve groans as he’s hauled upright. Robin yelps when her weight is jerked back into place. Maggie barely manages a sound, her body sagging.

The officer steps closer, lowering his voice.

“Try to tell the truth this time, yes?” His smile sharpens, “It will make your visit with Dr. Zarkhov… less painful.”

Maggie turns her head just enough to glance at Robin.

“Told you the doctor was bad,” she sings weakly.

From the shadows, a man steps forward. He stops directly in front of them, holding an injection gun filled with a glowing blue fluid that looks like it doesn’t belong in a human body.

Steve’s breath spikes.

“Okay! Wait, wait, wait!” he blurts, “What is that thing?”

“It will help you talk,” the doctor says flatly.

Before Steve can say another word, the man grips his jaw and presses the injector to his neck.

Steve arches violently against the restraints, a raw, animal sound tearing out of his throat as the blue fluid disappears beneath his skin.

Maggie’s eyes go wide.

“Ohhhhhh no,” she whispers, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

The doctor doesn’t even look at her as he withdraws the injector and moves on.

She knows she’s next.

He stops in front of her. Maggie forces a crooked smile, words spilling fast, “You know, we can totally talk about this. I didn’t even do anything. He’s the bad one. Robin and I? Angels. Absolute saints. Trust—”

The needle sinks into her neck.

She lets out a short, sharp shriek, fingers twitching as the cold floods her veins. And for the third time that day, darkness takes her.

Maggie wakes again, consciousness sloshing back. The room feels too bright and also somehow fuzzy around the edges. Laughter echoes nearby.

“You know,” Maggie mutters, tongue thick, face numb, “I’m really sick of passing out. And now my face feels… weird.”

Two voices snort at once.

“Oh yeah,” Robin giggles, “They got you goooooooooood.”

“I feel so good,” she adds as she laughs harder, shoulders shaking against the restraints.

Steve squints at the ceiling, pupils blown wide.

“Moronssss,” he slurs lazily, “They messed up the drug.”

“Morons,” Maggie agrees.

“Morons! Hey, morons!” Robin suddenly shouts at the walls.

“Woahhh,” Steve echoes.

Maggie lets her head flop back against the chair.

“There is definitely something wrong with us,” she giggles.

The door buzzes open.

The officer enters first, followed by the doctor. Maggie watches with fascination as the man sets his bag down and opens it. Inside is a neat, horrifying collection of tools.

Robin squints at the display.

“Uh,” she says politely, “would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?”

The officer ignores her completely.

“Let us try this again, yes? Who do you work for?”

“Not this again,” Maggie moans, rolling her head sideways.

“Scoops Ahoy,” Steve answers cheerfully.

The officer turns slowly, “How did you find us?”

“Totally by accident,” Steve says, nodding.

The officer mutters something in Russian. The doctor hums and strolls over to Steve, selecting a pair of pliers.

Steve watches him approach.

“What is that shiny little toy?” he asks, genuinely curious.

The pliers clamp down.

Steve yelps, body jerking against the restraints as he shouts.

“There was a code!” Robin blurts suddenly, “We heard a code!”

“Idiots, idiots, idiots,” Maggie sings to herself, swaying her head side to side.

The officer raises a hand and the doctor pauses.

“Code,” he says, “What code?”

Robin breathes fast but talks faster, “The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. Blah, blah, blah. You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town and we picked it up on our Cerebro and we cracked it in a day. A day!”

She laughs, “You think you’re so smart, but a couple kids who scoop ice cream for a living cracked your code in a day.”

The officer smirks faintly, unimpressed. He turns his gaze to Maggie.

“And what about this one?” he asks, gesturing toward her, “She does not wear your uniform. Why?”

He steps closer, studying her. Maggie keeps humming under her breath, eyes half-lidded.

“Where do you come from?” he asks, grabbing her hair and yanking her head up.

She glances at him, then wiggles her eyebrows exaggeratedly, lifting a finger.

“A forest full of ghosts,” she says dreamily, “They raised me. I’m not actually here. It’s just alllllllllllll inside your head.”

The punch comes fast. Her head snaps to the side. Pain blooms even through the drugs. She spits blood onto the concrete.

“Hey!” Robin shouts, “Don’t touch her!”

Steve strains uselessly against the chair, swearing.

The officer straightens, “Who knows we are here?”

“Dustin knows,” Steve pants.

“Steeeeve, stupid,” Maggie slurs.

“Yes,” Steve says, breathless, “Dustin Henderson knows.”

The officer repeats the name slowly, “Dustin Henderson.”

He tilts his head, “Is this your small, curly-haired friend?”

Steve grins, “Ah, curly-haired. Great hair. Small. Kind of like a ‘fro. Yeah.”

“Where is he?”

Steve chuckles, “Oh, he’s long gone, you big asshole. And he’s probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the U.S. cavalry. They’re gonna come in here commando-style, guns a-blazin’, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.”

The officer leans in close.

“Is that so?”

The trio immediately agrees, cackling like hyenas. Their laughter ricochets off the concrete walls.

An alarm suddenly blares. Steve looks at the officer with vindicated satisfaction, eyebrows lifting in a clear told you so.

The officer’s jaw tightens. Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms out, boots echoing down the hall.

“Welllllll,” Maggie drawls, “this was fun.”

She sighs happily, “At least I can’t feel my… anything anymore.”

Silence droops for exactly half a second before the door slams open.

“AAAAAHHHH!”

Dustin Henderson barrels into the room with a battle cry, jabbing a cattle prod forward and electrocuting the doctor mid-step.

The man convulses, collapsing to the floor in a heap.

Steve lights up.

“Hey, Henderson!” he cheers, “That’s crazy, I was just talking about you.”

“Get ready to run,” Dustin snaps, already fumbling with the ropes.

Maggie raises a hand.

“Uh. Mr. Teacher Sir?” she slurs, “I don’t think I can run.”

Dustin pauses long enough to actually look at her. Her blood-soaked clothes, bandage blooming red, burns, bruises, the way she’s barely upright.

“Jesus shit,” he blurts, “What happened to you?”

“No time!” Erica barks from the doorway.

Dustin swallows, “Okay. Okay. Here, come on.”

He slips Maggie’s arm over his shoulder and hauls her up. She grunts, legs wobbling.

“C’mon,” he urges, “Run!”

Maggie barely registers movement as she stumbles along, leaning heavily into Dustin, her feet scraping the floor as they go.

They’re shoved into the back of the vehicle, bodies slamming into the metal cage as Dustin guns it.

“Jesus, slow down, man!” Steve yells.

“Yeah!” Robin slurs, “What is this, like the Indy 500?”

“It’s the Indy 300,” Steve argues.

“No, dingus, it’s 500!”

“It’s 300!”

“Let’s say a million,” Maggie offers.

They burst into laughter again.

Erica stares at them, “What is wrong with them?”

“I don’t know!” Dustin shouts, swerving.

He clips a cluster of barrels.

The impact sends Maggie, Steve, and Robin flying, all three slamming hard into the cage.

“Ow,” Maggie groans, “I think I can see my brain.”

The cage door flies open.

“C’mon!” Dustin orders, “We gotta go. Now!”

When none of them move fast enough, Erica claps sharply, “Move it!”

Steve gets yanked out by his legs, Robin scrambling after him. Maggie awkwardly slides off the edge, collapsing to the floor in a heap.

Dustin swipes the keycard, the elevator door sliding open. The three drugged teens are shoved inside as the platform jerks upward.

Steve tries to balance on a dolly.

“You look like you’re surfing,” Robin cackles.

Maggie lies flat on her back, eyes blown impossibly wide.

“I’M SEEING JESUS!” she shouts.

“They seem drunk,” Erica says flatly.

“Why would they be drunk?” Dustin asks, as Steve wipes out and hits the floor.

“Wipeout!” Robin announces.

Dustin kneels, pressing a hand to Steve’s forehead, “He’s burning up.”

“You’re burning up,” Steve counters.

Dustin pries one eyelid open as Steve whines.

“His pupils are super dilated,” Dustin mutters.

“Maybe he’s drugged,” Erica offers.

Steve boops Dustin’s nose. Dustin swats his hand away.

“Steve. Are you drugged?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Dad?” Steve says, “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”

Dustin snaps, “This isn’t funny! Maggie is bleeding on the floor!”

He looks over at Maggie, who is staring into space, clearly having a spiritual experience.

“Are you gonna die on us?” he pleads, “Don’t walk toward any white light!”

Robin nods solemnly, “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Dustin shakes his head hard, refocusing, “They’re gonna be looking for us up there, so I need to know where you parked your car.”

“Oh,” Steve says thoughtfully, “Can we make a pit stop at the food court?”

“I would kill for a hotdog on a stick,” Robin agrees.

“All right,” Dustin says desperately, “Yes. Food. Fine. But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”

Steve’s face falls, “Uh oh.”

“What?”

“The car is off the board,” Steve says sadly, “They took the keys. The Russians. Like… forever ago.”

Robin claps and laughs like this is the best punchline she’s ever heard.

When the elevator finally lurches to a stop, the door slides open and the group spills out into the night air.

Steve sucks in a breath like he’s been reborn. Robin laughs, shoulders sagging with relief.

Maggie does not stand up. Instead, she sort of tips.

Her body rolls sideways out of the elevator, hitting the pavement with a soft thump and continues to roll with no end in sight.

“I’m getting dizzzzzzyyyyy,” she calls cheerfully as she keeps rolling away, gaining alarming momentum.

“What is she doing?” Erica demands.

“Okay, nope,” Dustin groans, dropping to his knees, “Nope nope nope, Maggie up. Up now.”

Two Russian guards come sprinting around the corner, shouting. Dustin panics and yanks Maggie upright, her feet barely cooperating as she stumbles forward.

“Ow—hey—gravity is very aggressive tonight,” she slurs.

They bolt through a side door into the mall, Dustin dragging Maggie while she hops and limps along. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead as they tear through back hallways, past storage rooms and dumpsters.

“Where are we going?” Erica shouts.

“Just trust me!” Dustin yells back.

They burst through double doors into the movie theater, the booming soundtrack echoing through the lobby. Dustin throws open a set of doors and the glow of Back to the Future floods over them.

He shoves them into three open seats at the end of the aisle.

“You three sit,” he orders.

“These seats are too close,” Steve mutters immediately, “These seats blow.”

“Then don’t watch the movie,” Dustin snaps.

“We wanna watch it,” Robin whispers.

Maggie nods enthusiastically, “We earned this.”

“Then watch it!” Dustin hisses, before someone shushes him.

He crouches, locking eyes with all three.

“Whatever you do. Don’t. Go. Anywhere,” He points directly at Maggie, “Especially you. You look like you crawled out of a slasher movie.”

“Fine, Dad,” Maggie sighs.

Dustin and Erica disappear down the aisle.

About twenty minutes later, Maggie slumps lower in her seat.

“I’m sooooo thirsty,” she whines.

“Let’s get water,” Robin suggests.

Steve is already standing.

They limp and wobble out of the theater, Maggie leaning on both of them. They find a water fountain just outside.

Steve collapses onto it first, guzzling loudly, “This is incredible.”

Robin leans back on the wall, “So… I wasn’t totally focused, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”

Steve freezes mid-sip, “Wait. The hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom? But they’re the same age.”

“He went back in time,” Robin says.

Steve frowns as Maggie shoves him aside to drink, “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”

Robin grabs Maggie’s arm and shakes her, “Because he’s in the past, so the future is actually the present.”

Steve stares, “Wh—what?”

“It’s my turn,” Robin declares.

Maggie staggers back to Steve, who is now staring up at the ceiling.

“Oh wow,” he murmurs, “This ceiling is beautiful.”

Maggie grins dreamily, “It reminds me of Nancy.”

“Oh wow,” Robin echoes.

Maggie’s smile suddenly drops.

“Hey,” she says softly, “I don’t feel so good.”

And as if summoned, all three clutch their stomachs and sprint, half-running, half-stumbling, straight into the girls’ bathroom.