Chapter 48

God i love nancy wheeler and her angry protective self 😫

Robin dives into the first stall on the left. Maggie stumbles into the one beside her, slamming the door shut with her foot. Steve barely makes it into the stall on Maggie’s other side before all three collapse to their knees at the exact same time.

The sounds that follow are… undignified.

Gagging, retching, miserable groans echo off the tiled walls. Whatever the Russians pumped into them is forcefully rejected. Maggie’s forehead presses against the cold metal divider as she shakes, one hand gripping her injured leg.

When it’s finally over, they sit there for a long second, chests heaving. One by one, toilets flush.

Robin leans back against the stall wall, head tipping up.

“Okay,” she breathes, “The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you guys?”

Maggie answers first, “Everything hurts again.”

Steve groans from the other side, “Holy shit. No. Do you think we puked it all out?”

“Maybe,” Robin says, “Ask me something. Interrogate me.”

“Interrogate you?” Steve snorts, “Okay. When was the last time you, uh… peed your pants?”

“Today,” Robin answers immediately, “When the Russian doctor took out the bonesaw.”

“Oh my God,” Steve laughs.

“Okay, my turn,” Robin says, “Have you… ever been in love?”

Steve exhales slowly, “Yup. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.”

“Uh oh,” Maggie mutters.

“Oh my God,” Robin groans, “She’s such a priss.”

“Hey!” Maggie protests, “No she’s not.”

Steve hums, “Yeah. Turns out… not really.”

Robin tilts her head, “Are you still in love with her?”

Steve shrugs, “No.”

Maggie lets out a breath of relief she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“Why not?” Robin asks.

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s… better for me,” Steve says, “It’s weird. Ever since Dustin got home, he keeps saying you gotta find your Suzie.”

“Wait,” Robin says, “Who’s Suzie?”

Maggie pushes herself off the floor and crawls under the divider into Robin’s stall, wincing as she moves. She plops down beside her, back against the wall.

“His girlfriend from camp. Very adorable. And thank God, because it finally got him off my back.”

Robin’s eyebrows shoot up, “Dustin was in love with you?”

“Oh yeah,” Maggie laughs, “Down horrendous. Fully convinced I was his future wife.”

“It’s true,” Steve adds, “He would not shut up about it. I’m still not convinced Suzie isn’t a hallucination he invented to cope.”

Robin snorts.

Steve takes a breath, “The point is… the girl I like? It’s someone I didn’t really talk to in school.”

Maggie freezes and Robin does too.

They look at each other through the narrow stall, realization flickering across both their faces at the same time.

Steve continues, “And I don’t even know why. Maybe ’cause Tommy H would’ve made fun of me. Or I wouldn’t be… prom king. It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right. It’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway. Because, when I think about it, I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time.”

Robin’s face falls, the slow realization creeping in her veins. Her shoulders slump, eyes fixed on the grimy tiles beneath her. It dawns on Maggie. Robin wasn’t obsessed with Steve because she was in love with him. Maggie reaches out and gently grabs her hand. She gives Robin a small, understanding smile, the kind that says, I get you. I won’t judge you. You’re okay.

But Steve doesn’t stop, “First of all, she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like this summer, I’ve laughed harder than I have in, like… forever. And she’s smart. Way smarter than me. She can crack, like… secret Russian codes. And, you know? She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

The bathroom stalls seem to shrink around them. Robin slumps fully, leaning against the wall, staring at the floor.

“Oh, Steve, you’re an idiot,” Maggie mutters, her voice muffled by her hands covering her face.

“Huh?” Steve asks, genuinely confused, crawling under the divider to squeeze into the small space with them.

Now the three of them huddle together, knees pressing into tiles, bodies practically stacked on one another.

“So… what do you think about this girl?” Steve asks Robin.

“She sounds… awesome,” Robin whispers.

Maggie feels heat rise to her face out of secondhand embarrassment.

“She is awesome,” Steve says firmly, leaning closer, “And what about the guy?”

Robin shrugs, “I think he’s on drugs and not thinking straight.”

“Really?” Steve looks genuinely startled, “‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual.”

“He’s not,” Maggie says, dragging her hands down her face.

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, “Okay… now I’m officially lost. What do you guys know that I don’t?”

Robin exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Look… he doesn’t even know this girl. And if he did know her, I don’t think he’d even want to be her friend.”

Steve leans in, insistent, “No. That’s not true. No way is that true.”

Robin’s voice softens but remains firm, “Listen, Steve… it shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends. And I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.”

Maggie lets out a nervous laugh, “Actually… you might be surprised.”

Steve tilts his head, utterly confused now, “What?”

Robin lets out a long sigh, shoulders sagging further, “Remember what I said about Mrs. Click’s class? About me being… jealous, obsessed… all that stuff? It wasn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because… she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve asks, clueless.

Maggie groans softly and facepalms, exasperated.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies, “I wanted her to look at me. But she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand. You would drop bagel crumbs all over the floor. You asked dumb questions. You were a total douchebag. And… you didn’t even like her, and I’d go home… and just scream into my pillow.”

Steve shakes his head slowly, “But… Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

Robin’s voice drops to a near whisper, “Steve.”

And it clicks.

“Oh,” he breathes, finally understanding, eyes widening.

“Took you long enough,” Maggie laughs.

Steve thinks for a long moment, “I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson is cute and all, but… I mean, she’s a total dud.”

“She is not,” Robin defends.

“Yes, she is. She wants to be, like, a singer. She wants to move to, like, Nashville and shit.”

“She has dreams!”

“She can’t even hold a tune. She’s practically tone-deaf. Have you heard her? She sounds like a Muppet.”

The three all laugh together. When the laughter dies, attention falls on the other girl in the stall.

Steve’s eyes drift to Maggie’s stall, brow furrowing.

“Wait,” he says slowly, “How did you catch on so quick?”

Maggie winces like she just stepped on a landmine.

“Okay,” she says carefully, “You’re not gonna like this.”

Steve sighs, “I hate when you start sentences like that.”

“But,” Maggie continues, “you’re not the only one who’s been in love with Nancy Wheeler.”

Robin’s mouth drops open, “Holy shit.”

Steve looks like someone unplugged his brain, “Wait— what? I thought that was a joke. I didn’t think you were actually… you know…”

“Gay?” Maggie supplies, smiling softly, “Yeah. I am.”

She exhales, shoulders dropping now that it’s out there, “I made everything a joke because then I didn’t have to pretend. And nobody knew I was actually serious.”

Robin laughs again, shaking her head, “God, this bathroom is cursed.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, still visibly recalibrating his entire understanding of reality.

“So… wait. You weren’t just—” He gestures helplessly, “You’re actually… in love with Nancy?”

Maggie nods once, “Yeah, we’re kind of, uh, together. And I’m… really in love with her.”

Robin’s eyes widen, then soften.

“Holy actual shit,” she says again, “Good for you.”

Steve swallows, a complicated mix of emotions flickering across his face, “Okay. Wow. That… actually makes a lot of things make sense.”

Maggie snorts, “Trust me, it took me longer than it should’ve.”

Robin studies her for a second and shakes her head with a breathy laugh, “You’re kind of terrifying.”

“Thank you,” Maggie says sincerely, “I work very hard at it.”

Steve hesitates, then clears his throat.

“For what it’s worth,” he says carefully, “I’m sorry. About… before. About Nancy. About everything.”

Maggie meets his eyes, “I know.”

They sit there for a moment, the tension easing. Three very different disasters sit sharing a cramped bathroom stall and the strange comfort of honesty.

Maggie breaks the silence first, “So. Are we done confessing secrets, or does anyone else want to emotionally devastate the group before we leave?”

Steve groans, “Please no.”

Robin smiles, “I think… I think I’m good.”

Maggie grins, pushing herself to her feet. “Cool. Then let’s go save the world or whatever. I’m starving.”

As soon as Maggie says so, Dustin and Erica burst through the bathroom door, practically skidding to a halt in the middle of the tile floor.

“Okay. What the hell?” Dustin shouts, hands planted firmly on his hips.

The trio just collapses into laughter, echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Alright, up now. I’m sick of this bullshit,” Dustin orders.

Steve and Robin each grab an arm, helping Maggie to her feet. She hobbles on unsteady legs. Her bloodied clothes stick to her in uncomfortable patches, but she manages a crooked grin.

The group peeks around the bathroom doorway, scanning the lobby. The Russian guards they’d tangled with earlier aren’t in immediate sight.

Dustin crouches slightly, whispering, “And… blend.”

They push forward, weaving through the crowd of moviegoers exiting the theater. Maggie limps after them, trying to keep her head low.

“You’re not blending,” Dustin hisses, leaning close to her ear.

Maggie scoffs, limping faster, “Oh, you try getting shot in the leg and walking normal.”

Erica leans over, whispering sharply, “Shut up. It’s working. Just keep moving.”

Dustin exhales, “We just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home… here we come.”

Steve pipes up from behind Maggie, voice anxious, “Uh, Dustin? We might not wanna go to your house.”

“Why?” Dustin glances back, frowning.

“Well… I might have given them your full name,” Steve admits sheepishly.

“What is wrong with you?” Dustin mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing.

“Dude, I was drugged!” Steve defends, throwing up his hands.

“So… resist. Tough it out like a man,” Dustin says.

Steve groans, “Oh, yeah. Easy for you to say.”

“Guys?” Robin pulls them back, tugging at their sleeves.

Ahead of them, movement catches their eyes. The Russian guards are walking toward them, scanning the crowd.

“Abort,” Dustin mutters, signaling a quick pivot as one of the men locks eyes with them.

The group barrels through the people, ducking under elbows and bouncing off shins, moving as fast as Maggie’s hobbling legs will allow.

“Shit,” Robin breathes, eyes widening, realizing the escalator they had hoped to use had already been turned off.

They scramble up onto the median, shoes skidding against the smooth surface. One by one, they slide down it like kids on a playground slide. Maggie hits last. She lands hard at the bottom with a sharp hiss, her bad leg screaming as she folds in on herself.

“Don’t stop,” Steve snaps quietly, already hauling her up by the arm before she can even argue.

They take off again, Maggie half-limping, half-dragged, and dive behind a snack counter just as voices echo through the mall. They slam their backs against it, chests heaving, trying to compress themselves as much as possible.

Russian voices drift closer. A pair of boots scrape against tile.

Suddenly, a car alarm shrieks through the empty mall, followed by a massive crash that reverberates off the walls. The five of them jump in unison, Robin clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

Slowly, they peek their heads above the counter.

Above them, standing at the top of the escalator like a very strange and welcome vision, are El, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, Jonathan, and… Nancy.

Relief hits all at once. Laughter breaks out, and smiles spread across tired faces.

The five behind the counter burst out in a sprint, Steve practically lifting Maggie off the ground to keep her moving. At the same time, the others rush down the escalator, meeting them at the bottom in a tangle of limbs and voices.

Dustin laughs brightly, running straight into Mike and El, “You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!”

Maggie hangs back just a second, leaning heavily into Steve, watching the reunion with a soft smile.

She looks up and Nancy’s eyes lock onto hers.

The expression on Nancy’s face is impossible to categorize. Shock, fury, terror, and relief are all stacked on top of each other.

Maggie’s smile evaporates, “Oh shit.”

She glances at Steve, “Is it too late to run?”

“You got yourself into this mess,” he says mildly, letting go so she can stand on her own.

“Traitor,” Maggie mutters.

“Marigold Byers,” Nancy says, each syllable clenched between her teeth.

Maggie immediately raises her hands in surrender, “Okay, listen. You told me not to get shot dead. Which I didn’t, so technically I listened. But now I’m suddenly wishing that bullet killed me.”

Nancy doesn’t answer. She surges forward, grabs Maggie roughly by the face, fingers digging into her jaw and kisses her.

Maggie freezes for half a second, stunned, before melting into it. The world narrows down to just Nancy and the fact that she’s here and breathing and furious and kissing her anyway.

“You may not be dead yet, but I am going to kill you later, and whoever did this. What the hell happened?” Nancy murmurs against her face.

Maggie blinks slowly, still processing, “Uh, hold on. My brain is still trying to catch up to that kiss.”

She smirks, letting a weak, uneven grin spread across her battered face.

Robin steps back a little, eyes scanning the scene.

“I don’t understand what happened to that car,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the crumpled metal strewn across the mall floor.

Dustin points a finger, “El has superpowers.”

Robin squints, “I’m sorry?”

“Superpowers. She threw it with her mind,” Dustin clarifies.

“Who’s El?” Robin asks, confusion knitting her brows.

Before anyone can answer, Nancy’s voice cuts in sharply, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Robin straightens, “I’m Robin. I’m friends with Maggie and Steve.”

Dustin jumps in, “She cracked the top-secret code!”

Steve nods quickly, adding, “Which is how we found out about the Russians in the first place.”

Nancy holds Maggie slightly closer than necessary, “Russians?”

Jonathan furrows his brow, glancing around, “Wait, what Russians?”

“The Russians!” Steve exclaims, “What the hell do you think happened to Maggie?”

That grabs everyone’s attention. Heads turn and eyes widen.

“Holy shit!”

“Jesus Christ!”

“What the fuck!”

Jonathan’s arms wrap around his sister instinctively.

“You’re bleeding from, like, everywhere!” he shouts, panic rising in his chest as he takes in the bruises, the burns, and the bullet and stab wounds.

Maggie slumps slightly against him, drowsy.

“Yeah… my life advice for today?” she croaks, “Don’t get tortured by Russians.”

Everyone starts yelling over each other, voices overlapping, but it all stops abruptly when El collapses to the floor with a thud.

Max is the first to reach her, dropping to her knees beside the girl.

“El! Hey, it’s okay, we’re here,” she urges, hands hovering over her.

“What’s wrong with her?” Erica asks, crouching next to them.

“My leg… my leg,” El groans, trembling as she gestures toward her calf, sweat beading her forehead.

“Her leg, okay, her leg,” Jonathan says quickly, peeling back the patchy bandage covering her calf.

A collective groan of disgust erupts from the group, and everyone jumps back instinctively as something inside her leg starts wriggling violently. El screams a high-pitched, heart-wrenching sound that makes everyone flinch.

“El!” Mike shouts, his voice cracking with fear and urgency.

He glances at Maggie, who is barely holding herself upright on her last leg, her own exhaustion written across her bruised and bloodied face.

“Can you… can you help her?” Mike asks, desperation creeping in.

Maggie’s eyes widen.

“I… I can try,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

She extends her hand toward El’s leg, focusing, but a wave of exhaustion hits her and the connection breaks as soon as it starts. Every muscle in her body screams from strain and blood loss.

“I… I can’t get it. I think I’ve lost too much blood,” Maggie pants, swaying violently.

She collapses into Nancy’s arms, who immediately wraps around her, stroking her hair and murmuring soft reassurances.

El continues to scream, thrashing, as her calf twitches and riggles unnaturally.

“What… what is that?” Erica asks, recoiling slightly from the sight.

“There’s… something inside her,” Mike says, eyes locked on the strange movement beneath the skin.

“Keep her talking! Keep her awake!” Jonathan instructs sharply as he sprints away for something to help.

“Oh, El,” Maggie whispers, tears pricking at her eyes.

Her chest tightens with helplessness. She hates seeing anyone in pain, especially when she’s (for once) powerless to fix it.

Robin attempts to break the tension, “You know… it’s not—uh, it’s not actually that bad. There was a—The goalie on my soccer team, Beth Wildfire… she slid into someone’s leg and the bone—like, came out of her knee. Six inches, it was insane.”

“Robin,” Steve interrupts, “You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

Jonathan comes running back, carrying a knife, sweat gleaming on his forehead.

“Okay, El… this is gonna hurt like hell, alright? I need you to stay completely still,” he instructs gently, trying to steady her trembling.

He hands her a spoon, “Here, bite down on this.”

As Jonathan cuts carefully into her leg, El screams. He plunges his hand in, trying to grab the creature, and El wails, thrashing weakly.

“No, stop it! Stop!” she cries, tears streaming freely.

Jonathan withdraws quickly, his face pale and tense.

“I… I can do it… I can do it,” El sobs, drawing a shaky breath.

The room falls silent in tense anticipation. The group watches, holding their collective breath, as El summons every ounce of her strength. She sits up, extending a trembling hand toward her leg.

A scream tears from her throat as her powers surge. The glass wall behind them shatters violently, scattering shards. A small, wriggling thing shoots from her leg and hangs suspended in the air before she manages to fling it. The creature shrieks, squished with a wet crunch.

The group looks up, eyes widening, to see Hopper and Joyce standing in front of them, silhouetted against the flickering fluorescent light. Relief, shock, and disbelief ripple across their faces.

Everyone freezes and there is only silence for a long moment. Then boots crunch over broken glass.

Hopper stands, chest heaving. Joyce is right beside him, already bracing for the worst as she’s done a thousand times before.

Maggie’s laugh peters into a wheeze as the adrenaline finally drops out from under her. She sags back, arm trembling where it’s half-raised.

“Well,” she says weakly, “isn’t it good to see you guys.”

Hopper doesn’t answer right away. He just stares at Eleven first. She’s sitting stiffly, blood painting her leg, face pale and tight with pain. His jaw sets, eyes going dark. Then his gaze shifts to Maggie and all hell breaks loose.

“What the hell happened to you,” he growls.

Joyce doesn’t even wait for words. She rushes forward, dropping to her knees in front of Maggie, hands hovering uselessly because she doesn’t know where it’s safe to touch.

“Oh my god,” Joyce breathes, “Maggie— honey—”

Maggie gives her a crooked smile. Her face is blooming purple and yellow. There’s dried blood at her hairline. Burn marks trail along both arms. Her shirt is torn, stained dark at the shoulder and thigh.

“I know,” Maggie says, “I look great. I’m embracing the rugged aesthetic.”

Joyce’s eyes fill with tears instantly.

“You’re bleeding,” she says helplessly, “You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“I’m mostly done bleeding,” Maggie reassures her, “The Russians were very considerate. Patched me up just enough to keep me alive for the torture part.”

Hopper stops dead.

“…The what?”

Joyce looks up sharply, “The what?”

Maggie winces, “Okay. Maybe don’t repeat it out loud. Makes it sound worse.”

“Worse than what, exactly?” Hopper snaps, crouching in front of her now, furious, “You got a bullet wound, a stab wound, burns, and you’re cracking jokes like this is a damn sleepover.”

Maggie shrugs, “Ow. Okay. That was ambitious.”

Joyce cups Maggie’s face gently, thumbs brushing her cheeks, “Who did this to you?”

Maggie meets her eyes.

“The bad guys,” she says, “You know. Evil foreign government. Poor communication skills.”

Joyce lets out a broken sound that’s half a laugh and half a sob, “You could’ve died.”

“Technically,” Maggie says, “I have a little experience with that.”

Hopper points at her leg, “You can’t walk. You’re bleeding through your bandages. And you’re smiling.”

“Defense mechanism,” Maggie mutters.

Hopper exhales hard through his nose, scrubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying not to explode.

“I leave town for five minutes,” he says, “and both my kids come back looking like you fought a goddamn war.”

Maggie smiles lazily, “Aw, I’m your kid? Nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Eleven shifts, watching them quietly.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

Hopper turns instantly, “Hey. No. No, kid. You did good. You did real good.”

Joyce swallows and looks back at Maggie.

“You shouldn’t have had to do this,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Maggie says quietly. “But I did.”

Hopper straightens, jaw locking back into place.

“Alright,” he says, “Someone’s gonna have to start explaining some things.”