Chapter 42

Another chapter 😝

Nancy wakes up with a start, shooting upright in bed like she’s been yanked by a wire.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Maggie flinches, one hand slapping blindly at her own face as if that might turn off the noise.

“What? What’s on fire?”

“It’s almost nine, I have to go!” Nancy scrambles for the edge of the bed, heart pounding, “We forgot to reset the clocks.”

She’s already halfway out of the sheets, tugging on clothes with the frantic precision of someone who has done this exact routine before and still hasn’t learned. Maggie squints at the clock, then at Nancy’s bare back, then sighs dramatically into the pillow.

“Oh hey,” Maggie mutters, lifting the comforter and peering down at herself, “I don’t have clothes on. That feels like information I should have processed earlier.”

Nancy snorts, yanking her shirt over her head, “Now is not the time.”

“I wish it was,” Maggie says mournfully, “I wish you didn’t have to go so our clothes could continue their long and meaningful absence.”

Nancy shoots her a look over her shoulder, “You have somewhere to be too, remember?”

Maggie’s eyes widen.

“Holy shit,” she gasps, throwing the blankets aside and scrambling upright, “You’re right. Fuck. Dustin’s back today.”

“You missed him,” Nancy says, shoving her feet into her shoes and hopping once to settle them.

“More than I care to admit,” Maggie says, dragging on jeans and a T-shirt that smells faintly like Nancy’s detergent. She pauses for half a second, presses it to her face, then keeps moving like she didn’t do that.

Nancy grabs her jacket, already halfway to the window, “Okay, I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later.”

She crosses back just long enough to press a quick, soft kiss to Maggie’s lips. Then Nancy’s climbing out the window, feet hitting the ground lightly before she darts along the back of the house.

Maggie exhales slowly, staring at the empty space for a moment longer than necessary. Then reality taps her on the shoulder with a clipboard.

She exits her room, running a hand through her hair and adopting her most casual voice as she steps into the kitchen.

“Hello, family,” she announces, “I am alive, in case you were worried.”

Will looks up from the table. Joyce turns from the counter with a coffee mug in hand, already smiling.

Joyce lifts a hand to her mouth, trying very hard and failing to suppress a laugh.

“Uh, sweetie. You’ve got something there.”

Maggie frowns, “Something where?”

Joyce steps closer and gently wipes at Maggie’s cheek with her thumb. Maggie freezes.

The red smear comes away immediately.

Maggie stares at Joyce’s thumb and realization detonates.

“Oh,” she says weakly, “That’s… that’s unfortunate.”

Will’s eyes flick between them, curiosity lighting up like a flare, “Is that lipstick?”

“No,” Maggie says instantly.

Joyce raises an eyebrow.

“…Okay, yes,” Maggie corrects, “But not mine.”

Joyce smiles the kind of smile that says I know more than I’m going to say and I’m choosing mercy.

“Well,” Joyce says gently, turning back to the counter, “coffee’s fresh. And Dustin should be home soon.”

Maggie nods, cheeks warm, heart doing something stupidly pleased. She leans against the counter, scrubbing at her face just in case there’s more evidence she missed.

Will mutters, “Gross,” under his breath, nose wrinkling.

Joyce just grins, unbothered, stirring her coffee, “I don’t think you’re gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love.”

Will’s shoulders slump a little at that, his gaze dropping to the table.

“I’m not gonna fall in love,” he says quietly.

Maggie softens instantly. She leans an elbow on the counter and tilts her head, offering him a small, earnest smile.

“Hey,” she says gently, “if I can do it, you can do it, Sunshine.”

Will snorts, shaking his head like he doesn’t believe her, but the corner of his mouth twitches upward anyway.

Before Joyce can say anything else, a familiar crackle cuts through the kitchen. Dustin’s voice rings out from the walkie-talkie on the counter, loud and proud.

“This is Gold Leader, returning to base, do you copy? Over.”

Maggie freezes mid-reach, eyes going wide. She lunges for the table, snatching a waffle like it’s essential survival equipment.

“Shit,” she says around a bite, “We’ve gotta run. Like, now now.”

Will is already moving, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he springs to his feet with sudden, wired energy.

“We love you, Mom,” Maggie rattles off, already backing toward the door, “But we have places to be, people to see.”

She darts forward and plants a quick kiss on Joyce’s cheek. Joyce laughs, shaking her head as Will echoes the goodbye, already halfway out the door.

The two of them tear out of the house, grab their bikes, and pedal hard through the neighborhood, adrenaline buzzing in Maggie’s veins. By the time they skid to a stop outside Dustin’s house, the rest of the group is already there.

Mike stands on the porch, hands on his hips, glaring, “You were almost late.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, mister,” Maggie shoots back, rolling her eyes as she hops off her bike. “You’d be late to your own funeral.”

Mike scoffs, but there’s no time to argue. The sound of an approaching car sends them all snapping into motion.

They scatter down the street and regroup at the back of the house, slipping inside through the door they’d cracked open earlier. Everyone presses themselves against the walls, ducking behind furniture and doorframes, breath held tight in their chests.

The front door opens. They hear Dustin’s mom’s voice first, cheerful and oblivious. Dustin answers her, his voice tired, footsteps heavy as he drags himself toward his room.

El closes her eyes, just like they practiced. Her brow furrows in concentration as she reaches out with her power. In Dustin’s room, plastic gears whir to life. His robotic toys begin to move, clanking and buzzing, drawing him back out into the hallway.

From their hiding spot, everyone listens as Dustin follows the noise into the living room, crouching low behind his toys, confusion written all over his face.

Mike leans toward El and whispers urgently, “Now.”

El’s eyes snap open and t

The toys freeze mid-motion.

That’s the signal.

Mike, Maggie, Will, El, Lucas, and Max step out together, slow and quiet, barely daring to breathe. Lucas lifts a crooked sign that reads WELCOME HOME DUSTIN in thick marker. Maggie grips her party horn, heart hammering, trying not to laugh.

Max raises her hand and silently counts down with her fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

They explode into sound, kazoos blaring, arms thrown wide. Dustin screams.

He whips around in sheer panic, a can of hairspray in hand. He points and sprays without thinking, diirectly into Lucas’s face.

Lucas shrieks, dropping the sign and clawing at his eyes as the room dissolves into chaos. Dustin stares in horror, mouth open, while everyone else shouts at once.

“Oh my god!”

“Dustin!”

“My eyes!”

Maggie doubles over laughing even as she rushes forward, the perfect surprise immediately and spectacularly ruined.

Lucas staggers backward, half-blind, arms flailing, “I’M BLIND. I’M ACTUALLY BLIND.”

Mike lunges for him, “Stop rubbing your eyes, you idiot!”

“I CAN’T SEE YOU SO THAT’S REALLY UNHELPFUL.”

Dustin just stands there, frozen, the hairspray can still clutched in his hand.

“I thought you were Russians. Or demons. Or Russian demons.”

Max grabs the can and yanks it away, “Dustin, it’s us! You just pepper-sprayed Lucas with Aqua Net.”

Lucas drops to his knees dramatically, “Tell my parents I died doing what I loved.”

Maggie is laughing so hard she has to brace herself against the couch, tears in her eyes.

“Welcome home,” she manages between breaths. “You missed literally nothing.”

El steps forward, guilt written all over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “The toys were my idea.”

Max nudges her gently.

“He’ll be fine,” she murmurs, “Probably.”

Maggie’s laughter fades warmly as she watches, arms folding loosely over her chest. Will smiles softly beside her, relief written all over his face.

Lucas, meanwhile, is still suffering. Max finally drags him toward the sink.

“Blink,” she orders, “Slowly.”

“It burns,” he whines, “Everything burns.”

Mike claps his hands once, trying to regain control of the situation, “Okay. So. Surprise mostly successful.”

Dustin turns and spots Maggie.

His face lights up, “Maggie!”

She barely has time to brace before he barrels into her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Hey, buddy,” she says, hugging him back just as hard, “You grow or am I shrinking?”

“I missed you,” he says simply.

Her voice softens, “Yeah. I missed you too.”

From the sink, Lucas groans, “Can someone miss me enough to get me milk or something?”

Everyone grins and laughs as they roll their eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re fine,” Max calls back, though she nudges Mike with her elbow, “Get him milk before he files a formal complaint.”

Mike sighs and swaps places with Max at the counter, rummaging through the fridge.

“You owe me,” he mutters in Lucas’s direction.

“Put it on my tab,” Lucas replies weakly.

Dustin, meanwhile, has clearly decided this is his moment. He claps his hands together once, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Okay, come on. You guys have to see this.”

He grabs Maggie by the sleeve and tugs, dragging the group down the hall toward his room. Will and El follow immediately, Max trailing behind, still laughing under her breath.

“I’m telling you,” Dustin says, dropping to his knees and digging into his duffle bag, “I am an absolute genius.”

“Genius is one word for it,” Maggie says dryly as she settles cross-legged on the floor beside Max and El.

Dustin pulls out a strange, spindly contraption, blades attached to a central axis.

“Behold,” he announces, “The Forever Clock.”

He hands it to Will, “Powered by wind. Very useful in the apocalypse.”

Will takes it from him carefully, turning it over in his hands, inspecting the craftsmanship.

“And then,” Dustin says, already reaching back into the bag, “I give you… the Slammer.”

He hauls out another device, bulkier this time. When he flips a switch, it hums to life, vibrating. A hammer in the middle jerks.

Max leans closer, “What does it… do?”

“Slams,” Dustin says simply, then laughs at his own joke, “Pretty neat, huh?”

“But,” Dustin says, “this is my masterpiece.”

He sets the duffle bag down on the floor like it’s sacred. The five of them instinctively crouch closer as Dustin slowly unzips it, building the suspense for absolutely no reason and loving every second of it.

Inside is a mess of wires, antennas, batteries, and metal parts.

“I would like you to meet,” Dustin says, eyes shining, “Cerebro.”

Max squints, “What the hell is it?”

“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery-powered radio tower,” Dustin replies proudly.

Will tilts his head, “So it’s a ham radio.”

Dustin looks offended for exactly half a second.

“The Cadillac of ham radios,” he corrects, “This baby carries a crystal connection over vast distances. I’m talking North Pole to South Pole.”

He straightens, chest puffed out, “I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”

“Your what?” she splutters, coughing.

“Girlfriend?!” Max and Will blurt in unison.

El’s eyes widen, “You have a girlfriend?”

“Yup. Suzie,” Dustin says proudly, popping up onto his feet, “And I want you guys to meet her. Grab Cerebro.”

Maggie immediately scoops up the tangled mass of wires and metal, slinging the strap over her shoulder as she jogs after him.

“Her name is Suzie?” she repeats.

“Suzie with a Z,” Dustin corrects, deadly serious, “She’s from Utah.”

Will furrows his brows, “Girls go to science camp?”

“Suzie does,” Dustin says, offended on her behalf, “She’s a genius.”

Max raises an eyebrow, “Okay, but is she cute?”

Dustin almost scoffs.

“Think Phoebe Cates,” he says, “but hotter.”

Maggie snorts, “Bold claim for a fourteen-year-old.”

As they barrel through the kitchen, Mike looks up from the counter, immediately suspicious.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend,” Will says matter-of-factly as he passes.

Lucas jerks upright from the sink so fast he nearly spills the milk Mike brought him.

“His what?”

“Girlfriend?” Mike echoes, eyes wide.

The front door slams behind the group before either of them can ask another question.

Outside, Maggie adjusts Cerebro on her back as they jog down the sidewalk.

“So,” she says, breathless, “where exactly are we going?”

“Weathertop,” Dustin replies, “Best elevation, best connection.”

They mount their bikes, Mike and Lucas scrambling to catch up as Maggie carefully balances the radio tower.

“You know,” Maggie says casually as they start pedaling, “I’m proud of you for finding another woman.”

Dustin beams, “You’ll always be the first woman to have my heart.”

She groans, “You’re never allowed to say that sentence again.”

They ditch their bikes at the base of the hill when they arrive and start the climb. The sun beats down mercilessly, and about thirty minutes in, everyone is sweaty, out of breath, and deeply regretting their life choices.

“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, hands on his knees.

“Cerebro works best at a hundred meters,” Dustin replies, unfazed.

Max wipes her forehead, “I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.”

“Yeah, but Suzie’s Mormon,” Dustin says.

Lucas squints, “Oh shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”

“That’s the Amish, idiot,” Maggie cuts in.

Will frowns, “What are Mormons?”

“Super religious white people,” Dustin explains, “They have electricity and cars and stuff, but since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve. It’s all very… Shakespearean.”

“Shakespearean?” Max asks.

“Like Romeo and Juliet,” Dustin says proudly.

“Right,” Max deadpans.

“Star-crossed lovers,” Dustin adds.

“I got it,” Max says, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, guys!” Lucas calls from a few steps behind, already winded.

Everyone turns. Max has slowed, eyes flicking toward the sun, then back down the hill.

“This is fun and all,” Max says, trying to sound casual, “but we might have a problem.”

El’s smile falters just a little. She glances toward the trees, then back at the group.

“I think… I need to go home.”

Dustin stops dead, “What? No, we’re almost there.”

Max steps closer to El, their shoulders brushing.

“It’s getting late,” she says, softer now, “Hopper’s gonna freak if you’re not back.”

El nods, apologetic, “He said not to be out after dark.”

Dustin’s face falls anyway, “Seriously? We’re, like, five minutes away.”

“I know,” El says, voice quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Max hesitates, then hooks her fingers gently through El’s, not making a big deal of it but not hiding it either.

“We’ll come next time,” she offers, “Promise.”

El looks at Dustin, gives him a small, hopeful smile.

“Good luck,” she says, “Tell her I said hi.”

Then the two of them turn and start back down the hill together, Max stealing one last glance over her shoulder before they disappear into the trees.

Dustin stares after them, dumbfounded, “Did they just leave me for a curfew?”

“Yep,” Lucas says.

“At four in the afternoon,” Dustin adds, horrified.

“They’re lying,” Lucas confirms.

“It’s been like this all summer,” Will says quietly.

“It’s kind of sweet,” Maggie offers.

“It’s gross,” Lucas says immediately.

“It’s bullshit,” Dustin snaps, “I just got home.”

He kicks a rock down the hill, scowling, jaw tight. Then he exhales sharply and straightens, forcing the disappointment back.

“Whatever,” he says, lifting his chin, “Their loss. Onwards and upwards.”

He points toward the summit, “Suzie awaits.”

The rest of them exchange tired looks, then trudge after him, resigned and sweaty and absolutely not prepared for what’s about to happen next.

When they finally reach the top, Dustin plants his feet and bends over, hands braced on his knees, chest heaving.

“Made it,” he pants.

“Yeah,” Mike says flatly, dropping his bag to the ground with a thud, “Only took five hours and most of my will to live.”

“Why couldn’t we just play D&D?” Will groans.

Lucas lets his bag slide off his shoulder and hits the ground beside him. Maggie doesn’t even make it that far. She staggers two steps forward and flops backward into the grass, arms splayed, staring up at the sky as the late afternoon sun glows orange above them.

“I never want to do that again,” she mutters, “If I die up here, tell Joyce I love her.”

“The faster we set this up,” Mike says, pointing at Cerebro with grim determination, “the faster we’re done.”

Maggie groans like she’s being asked to donate a kidney, then rolls onto her side and pushes herself up.

“You’re evil,” she tells him, but she gets to her knees anyway.

They work slowly from fatigue as they dump bags and sort through parts. Dustin’s energy comes back in bursts as he directs them, snapping out instructions, correcting placements, muttering to himself. Piece by piece, Cerebro takes shape, towering awkwardly against the darkening sky.

Once it’s finally assembled, Mike, Maggie, Lucas, and Will stand back, arms crossed, legs aching, watching as Dustin plops down in front of the radio like it’s an altar.

He flicks the switch.

“Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

They all lean in subconsciously, holding their breath. Nothing but static.

“One sec,” Dustin says quickly, “She’s probably… she’s still there.”

He clears his throat, “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

Static again.

Mike exhales through his nose. Maggie shifts her weight, eyes flicking toward the horizon where the sun is already sinking lower.

“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin insists, “It’s just—”

“Yeah,” Lucas supplies gently, “Just…”

Dustin shrugs, “You know, maybe she’s busy. Or—”

Lucas nods, “It is around dinner time.”

Will hums in agreement. Maggie nods too, even though she’s not convinced.

Dustin keeps calling. Over and over. Adjusting knobs, repeating her name, voice growing hoarse as the sky darkens from gold to purple to deep blue. The static never changes.

Eventually, the sun is gone entirely. The moon hangs high above them.

“Dustin,” Mike calls from where he’s stretched out on the ground, “Come on. She’s not there.”

“She is,” Dustin snaps without looking up, “She’ll pick up.”

“Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work,” Will offers, hands raised.

“Or,” Lucas adds, unable to help himself, “maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.”

“She exists!” Dustin whirls on him.

Lucas shrugs, “She’s a genius and hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”

While they argue, Maggie has fully lost the battle. She’s sprawled in the grass a few feet away, mouth open, snoring softly at first. Then louder.

Mike notices first, “Is she—”

Lucas snorts, “Wow. Out cold.”

Eventually, Mike checks his watch and groans, “I’m done. I’m going home.”

Lucas stands too, stretching painfully, “Same.”

They head off down the hill, their voices fading as Will lingers, staring at Dustin for a long moment. Maggie’s snores escalate to being deeply unflattering.

Will sighs, walks over, and lightly kicks Maggie’s side with his shoe.

“I’m awake!” she yells, shooting upright with wild eyes and swinging arms.

Will jumps back, “Jesus—”

She rubs her eyes, disoriented, “Why am I outside?”

“Because you’re irresponsible,” Will says.

hHe looks at Dustin, “Look… Maggie and I have to get home. It’s late.”

Dustin doesn’t look at him, “Yeah.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Will adds, “We can play D&D. Or something fun. Like we used to.”

“Yeah,” Dustin says, voice flat, “Sure.”

“Welcome home,” Will says quietly, then turns, “Maggie. Home. Now.”

“Alright, alright,” she grumbles, pushing herself up and dusting off her jeans. She hesitates, then crosses over and wraps Dustin in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, “I wish I could stay. Joyce will actually kill me if I don’t leave with Will. Otherwise, I would.”

He nods, eyes fixed on the radio, “I know.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, hopeful.

“Yeah,” he says, managing a crooked smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “Definitely.”

Maggie trails after Will, their footsteps fading down the hill.

Dustin stays at the top alone, the static still hissing softly into the night.