Chapter 33

HELLO MY LITTLE BAGUETTES. first of all sorry this is a long chapter lmaooo. second of all i had what i think could be a great idea. I lowkey wanna bring eddie in for season three, keeping him out of all the upside down stuff obviously, but like I think he and maggie would be such a chaotic duo and i wanna give them more time to be total besties yk. and i feel like maggie would drag jonathan into their chaos so it would be high key such a random but iconic trio. let me know what yall think cuz i kind of really love this idea :))) 

The sun burns low over the junkyard, painting everything in gold and rust. Rows of gutted cars cast long shadows across the field, old metal glinting like bones in the light.

Steve’s BMW crunches to a stop near the row of stacked buses, and Maggie steps out, squinting at the scene before her.

“Home sweet garbage heap,” she says under her breath.

Dustin hops out right after her, beaming. “Okay! Operation ‘Catch Dart’ is officially underway!”

“Operation what now?” Steve mutters.

Up ahead, two figures are trudging toward them, one waving both arms like he’s signaling a plane to land. Lucas, of course. The other, a redheaded girl with a scowl that could peel paint.

“Who’s that?” Steve asks, brow furrowed.

Maggie leans back against the seat, grinning.

“That,” she says, pointing toward Max, “is the girl Dustin has a crush on. Which, honestly, is great. It got him to stop flirting with me every ten seconds. But…” She glances back toward Lucas and Max, who are walking side by side, laughing about something, “I think she’s taken a liking to Lucas. Tragic, really.”

Steve shoots her a side-eye, smirking, “Poor kid.”

“Heartbreak builds character,” Maggie says with faux solemnity, “He’ll survive.”

The junkyard smells like rust and gasoline. The group wastes no time fanning out, Max grabs a crowbar while Maggie starts rummaging through piles of junk, tugging free pieces of scrap metal and chain. The two work in sync, tossing usable parts toward the bus.

Meanwhile, Dustin and Lucas are huddled behind an overturned car, whispering urgently. Maggie can’t hear what they’re saying, but from Dustin’s wild hand gestures and Lucas’s stubborn look, it’s not exactly friendly.

“Boys,” she mutters under her breath, “You’d think the apocalypse would kill the drama, but nooo.”

Steve drags a foldable lawn chair over, unfolding it with a clang that makes everyone jump. He slams it down on the car beside the arguing duo.

“Hey, dickheads!” he calls, voice echoing through the metal yard, “How come the only ones actually helping are Maggie and this random girl? We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Lucas and Dustin both flinch. Max hides a laugh behind her hand, while Maggie just leans on a tire rim, raising a brow.

“See, Steve?” she says, smirking, “You’re a natural leader.”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose, “A leader of idiots.”

The two boys scramble up, and they split into teams. Dustin and Lucas gather scrap metal and old grates, Max scouts for weak points, and Maggie and Steve haul heavy sheets of aluminum to cover the broken bus windows.

Maggie grunts as she lifts one of the pieces with Steve, nearly losing her balance, “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the ‘muscle,’ you could help more.”

Steve glances over, smirking, “Excuse me? I’m literally helping you lift this.”

“Barely,” she huffs, “I feel like I’m in a really bad workout montage.”

He laughs, and for a brief second, the tension breaks. They slide the metal against the bus window, Steve securing it with a few well-placed kicks.

Inside the bus, Dustin’s voice echoes, “We’ll need a distraction once Dart’s here! Something to draw him out!”

“I volunteer Steve’s hair,” Maggie calls back.

Steve sticks his head through the window, “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It’s a national treasure,” Maggie says, “Perfect bait.”

Lucas and Max both snicker while Dustin groans, “Can we focus, please? This is serious! Dart’s probably, like, this big now!” He stretches his hands out far wider than any normal amphibian should be.

Maggie grimaces, “Oh good. Maybe he’ll only maul half of us.”

By early afternoon, the bus looks like a mini fortress; windows covered, barricades set, and a few weapons laid out on the floor.

Maggie leans against the wall, watching as Dustin fiddles with his walkie-talkie.

“Alright, Dart’s gonna smell the bait,” he says, gesturing at the raw meat they’ve placed outside the bus door, “Then, we hit him with the light.”

“Or,” Max says, rolling her eyes, “he eats the meat and leaves.”

“Or,” Maggie adds, “he eats us and leaves.”

“Great pep talk,” Steve mutters.

But Maggie’s joking tone falters for a split second. There’s a sharp sting in her chest, that burning feeling again, crawling under her skin like something alive. She presses a hand to her ribs, blinking fast, trying to focus.

“You okay?” Lucas asks, noticing.

“Yeah,” she lies quickly, “Just… haven’t had my daily dose of monster-fighting caffeine.”

Steve gives her a long look, suspicious, but doesn’t push it. Instead, he crouches near the door, gripping his bat tighter, “Eyes up, everyone. No one does anything stupid unless it’s me.”

“Copy that,” Maggie says softly, peering through a crack in the wall.

Time drips by into the night in uneasy silence. Every creak of the bus feels louder, every gust of wind like footsteps.

Steve sits boredly, flipping open and closed his lighter repeatedly and Maggie sits singing the My Little Pony theme song to herself.

“So, you’ve really fought one of these things before?” Max asks the two teens, skeptically.

Steve nods and Maggie says, “Yup, still haven’t recovered from the emotional damages.”

“And you’re like 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

Dustin sighs frsutratedly, “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear. Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.”

“Jesus who pissed in your cereal?” Maggie asks the boy.

Max takes her leave and climbs up to the top where Lucas is keeping watch with his binoculars.

Steve nods, “That’s good. Just show her you don’t care.”

Maggie rolls her eyes, “That wasn’t not caring that was being an idiotic asshole. Listen, Dustin, that is how you repel females. Steve here would know.”

Steve scoffs in offense.

The back of Maggie’s neck suddenly prickles.

“They’re coming,” she says.

No more than 10 seconds later, a growl rips through the air.

Her vision flashes, black tunnels, echoing growls, something enormous moving through the dark. She jerks back, gripping the wall hard.

“Maggie?” Steve whispers.

She shakes her head quickly, “I’m fine. Just focus.”

“Lucas, what’s going on up there?” Dustin shouts, voice cracking slightly as he grips the bat tighter.

“Hold on!” Lucas yells back from the roof. His voice echoes through the cold metal of the junkyard.

The three of them stand tense inside the bus. The air feels thick. Maggie’s pulse hammers in her ears. She can feel them out there, the same way you can feel the air right before lightning strikes.

“I’ve got eyes!” Lucas suddenly yells, “Ten o’clock!”

“There,” Steve says, pointing toward the fog, where a dark, shifting silhouette moves low to the ground.

“What’s he doing?” Dustin whispers.

“I dunno,” Steve mutters, “He’s not taking the bait. Why’s he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s hungry,” Dustin says.

“Or maybe,” Maggie murmurs, eyes narrowing as the fog swirls, “he’s looking for a different meal.”

That’s all it takes. The realization hits Steve at the same time it hits Maggie.

Steve stands abruptly, jaw set, “Stay put.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin hisses.

“Just get ready,” Steve says, tossing Dustin the lighter.

“Steven, don’t be an idiot,” Maggie says sharply, but it’s no use. He’s already climbing down the steps.

The door clangs shut behind him, leaving the air tense and too quiet. Through the streaked bus windows, they watch him emerge into the fog, a lone figure with a bat and way too much confidence.

“Unbelievable,” Maggie mutters.

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Dustin says, pacing.

Maggie’s jaw tightens, “Then I’ve gotta do something.”

“No. Maggie, no!” Dustin grabs her arm, “You’ll get yourself killed too. At least Steve’s expendable!”

She raises a brow, “You’re a real romantic, Henderson.”

“Too late,” she says, shaking off his hand, “I can’t resist a bad idea.”

She shrugs off her flannel, tossing it to the seat beside Dustin, now standing in just her tank top. Her breath fogs the cold air.

Dustin stares, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Remember how I redirected my pain to you?” Maggie asks, pulling a small pocketknife from her boot, “Maybe I can do it again. Redirect a wound. It’s worth a shot.”

“Maggie, don’t die!” Dustin calls as she pushes open the bus door, “I can’t show up to my wedding without the bride!”

She rolls her eyes as she hears Max says something along the lines of “What is wrong with you.”

The cold hits her instantly. She can barely see Steve through the mist, but she hears him before she sees him. A snarl. A swing. The sickening crunch of contact. Then another growl.

Three, no, four shapes emerge. Crawling low. Heads opening like grotesque flowers.

“Steve!” Maggie yells, sprinting forward.

He turns just in time to see her skid to a stop beside him, knife in hand, “Maggie, what the hell—”

But she’s already made up her mind. Her chest heaves. Every instinct screams don’t, but she’s out of options.

“I’m sorry in advance,” she says, voice trembling only slightly.

Before Steve can react, Maggie drives the blade across her own throat.

“Jesus Christ—Maggie!” he shouts, catching her as she drops to her knees.

But instead of blood pouring out, there’s a pulsing blue light searing beneath her skin. Her pupils dilate.

The pain hits her like fire, but she grabs it and redirects it. The burning agony travels down her arms like electricity, and she throws her hands forward.

The nearest demodog shrieks as invisible force slams into it. The wound, the pain, the fire, transfers. Its throat bursts open with the same gash she inflicted on herself.

The others howl, stumbling backward as the air around them distorts slightly. Maggie’s scream morphs into a growl of effort. She throws her hand toward another, and it crumples, blood spraying the dirt.

Steve stares, horrified and awed, “Holy—”

“Get back!” she shouts, “Now!”

Steve grabs her, dragging her backward just as another demodog lunges. Maggie slashes her arm with the knife, hurling that pain outward again. The creature drops mid-leap, smoke curling off its blackened chest.

The remaining two turn tail, yelping as they vanish into the fog.

For a moment, everything is still. Maggie drops the knife, collapsing to her knees. The wounds she gave herself are fading, but her body trembles violently, her skin slick with sweat.

Steve catches her before she falls completely, “Jesus, Mags… What did you just do?”

“It’s a long story” she breathes, voice weak.

Dustin and the others rush out from the bus, eyes wide.

“Maggie!” Dustin yells, skidding beside her, “Are you okay?!”

“Peachy,” she mutters hoarsely, blood still smeared along her neck, “Just another normal day in Hawkins.”

Steve lets out a shaky laugh, “You’re insane.”

“Yeah,” she says, barely conscious, “But it worked, didn’t it?”

The wind howls through the junkyard, carrying the echo of the demodogs’ retreat.

“Where are they going?” Lucas asks.

“Did Steve and Maggie scare them off?” Dustin offers.

“No,” Steve says, casting a glance at the three kids, “They’re going somewhere.”

The group of five venture out of the bus, as they follow the faint trail left by the retreating demodogs. Their boots crunch over the gravel along the old train tracks. No one speaks for a long moment, each still trying to digest what just happened.

Steve finally breaks the silence.

“Okay,” he says, glancing sideways at Maggie, “so… we’re just gonna skip over the part where you slit your own throat and then used it as a murder laser? Or are we circling back to that later?”

Maggie exhales, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, not exactly how I planned to spend my afternoon either.”

Max looks between them, brow furrowed, “Wait, you did that? That wasn’t—like—some freak coincidence?”

“Nope,” Maggie says, popping the p in mild exhaustion, “That was me.”

Steve slows, frowning, “You mind explaining how ‘that was you’ doesn’t end with us calling an exorcist?”

Dustin and Lucas exchange a look. They’ve been through this song and dance before.

“It’s not demonic or anything,” Maggie says, “I just… I can redirect pain. Like, if I get hurt, I can pass it to something or someone else. Before, I could only take others pain and emotions onto myself. I didn’t even know I could do that much until tonight.”

Max stares at her like she’s grown another head, “So you’re, what, a superhero or something?”

Maggie snorts, “Please. If I were a superhero, I’d have a way cooler outfit.”

Steve blinks at her, still pale, “You mean to tell me you’ve been walking around with the ability to weaponize pain and didn’t think to mention it?”

“I’ve been a little busy trying to not freak everyone out,” she shoots back, “Besides, I wasn’t exactly sure what it was until recently.”

“Recently being about five minutes ago,” Steve mutters.

“Exactly.”

There’s a pause, the kind of awkward quiet that follows a truth too big to unpack in one conversation.

Maggie sighs, shoulders sagging, “Look, I didn’t mean to scare anyone, okay? I was just trying to keep him from becoming dog food.” She nods at Steve.

Steve is caught off guard, “Oh. Uh… thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They keep walking, flashlights bobbing ahead of them. The tracks stretch on into the fog, and the hum of distant thunder rolls somewhere overhead.

Steve shakes his head, muttering under his breath, “I babysit one group of kids, and suddenly there’s a girl bleeding magic and dog monsters in the woods. Unreal.”

“So, are you positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks.

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

“He was tiny two days ago,” Max points out.

“He’s molted three times already,” Dustin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Max frowns, “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“Well, it’s gotta be soon. When he does, he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”

Steve scoffs, “Yeah, and he’s gonna eat a lot more than cats.”

Lucas stops dead, “Wait, cats? Dart ate a cat?”

Dustin freezes, trying to look innocent, “No. What? No.”

Steve, completely oblivious, adds, “What are you talking about? He ate Mews.”

“Mews?” Max furrows her brows, “Who’s Mews?”

“It’s Dustin’s cat,” Steve tells her.

Lucas shoves Dustin’s shoulder, “I knew it! You kept him!”

“No! No, I—no, I—” Dustin stammers.

Maggie crosses her arms, “Dustin, you are a terrible liar.“

The boy sighs, shoulders slumping, “He missed me, okay? He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit,” Lucas snaps, “You put the party in danger! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” Dustin yells, voice cracking.

Steve, Maggie, and Max just stand back, watching the chaos unfold.

“Anyone want popcorn?” Maggie mutters.

Dustin jabs his flashlight in Max’s face, “You told a stranger the truth!”

“A stranger?” Max scoffs, “Are you kidding me?”

The bickering only grows louder. Maggie glances at Steve.

“If this turns into a fistfight, my money’s on Max.”

“Same,” Steve murmurs, but before either can say more, a low growl rumbles from somewhere in the dark.

“Hey, guys?” Steve says, eyes scanning the fog. The sound grows louder, closer, “Guys!”

The kids fall silent. The screeching echoes again.

They take off running toward the noise. Flashlights slash through the trees as they reach the top of a hill.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin says, panting.

Lucas lifts his binoculars. His face drains of color.

“It’s the lab,” he says quietly, “They’re going back home.”

Maggie’s chest tightens.

“My brother’s there,” she breathes, “We have to help.”

The five sprint through the woods, the cold night air biting at their lungs. As they break the treeline, a voice cuts through.

“Who’s there?!” Jonathan shouts.

Maggie grins despite the chaos, “It’s me, you big dumb idiot!”

“Maggie? Steve?” Nancy and Jonathan say at once.

Before she can blink, she’s wrapped in Jonathan’s arms. Then Nancy’s.

“Maggie, what the hell happened?” Nancy demands, “Why are you covered in blood? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’d tell you if you weren’t crushing my ribs,” Maggie chokes out.

Nancy pulls back, hands trembling as she traces a finger along the faint scar still healing on Maggie’s neck. Maggie tries to ignore the chills that run down her spine.

“I, uh… escaped the lab hospital,” Maggie explains, “These idiots needed help, so I fought some monsters.”

Steve huffs a bitter laugh, “Yeah, and then cut her own throat as a defense mechanism.”

“You what?!” Nancy and Jonathan yell in unison.

“Technicality,” Maggie says, holding up a hand, “Bigger problems right now. Where’s Will?”

“We’re looking for him and Mike,” Jonathan replies.

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin asks, voice small.

“We’re not sure,” Nancy answers.

A chorus of monstrous screeches bursts from the lab.

“Shit,” Maggie mutters, every nerve in her body going tight.

The group erupts in panic, talking over each other until Nancy’s voice cuts through.

“The power’s back!” she shouts, pointing at the flickering lights.

They race to the security booth, fumbling with buttons and switches. Dustin shoves Jonathan aside and mashes the panel until the gate finally creaks open. Nancy and Jonathan jump in their car and peel out, tires screeching.

The others wait, tense and silent, watching the horizon like it might eat them next.

“Guys!” Max yells suddenly, pointing.

Two cars barrel toward them, horns blaring. The second one skids to a stop. It’s Hopper. He throws open the door.

“Get in!”

Maggie climbs into the passenger seat while the others pile into the back.

“Is Will okay?” she blurts immediately.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hopper mutters, voice clipped, “Where the hell have you been?”

“I snuck out to help Dustin,” she admits, bracing for the scolding.

Hopper slams his hand on the steering wheel, “Jesus Christ, Maggie. Joyce has been worried sick. We all have. You vanished from a government lab.”

“Is everyone else okay? Mom? Bob? Mike?” she asks, dreading the answer.

Hopper hesitates, just long enough for her stomach to drop.

“Bob’s gone,” he says quietly.

It’s like the air is punched out of her lungs, “What? What happened?”

“He helped us escape. Those things got him at the end.”

Maggie sits frozen, staring out the windshield, “If I hadn’t left—if I’d been there—I could’ve saved him. I could’ve taken it from him, I could’ve—”

“Maggie,” Hopper says, his voice firm but low, “No. You couldn’t have.”

Her eyes are glassy now, but she doesn’t look at him, “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he says, gripping the wheel tighter, “You would’ve taken every wound he had. And that would’ve killed you. And that would’ve destroyed your mother.”

That last line lands like a stone in her chest. Her throat tightens.

For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The truck’s engine is the only sound.

Finally, Hopper glances at her, his expression softening, “You did the right thing, kid. You tried to help the people you could. That’s what Bob did too.”

Maggie swallows hard, staring out the window.

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Guess we’re both idiots like that.”

Hopper lets out a small breath that might almost be a laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Maybe so.”

The headlights cut through the fog as the car speeds down the dark road toward the Byers’ home.