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The five Party members and Corey were left behind from all the action, sitting in the bleachers of the middle school's gymnasium. Hopper and Joyce had left to go to the Gate (although Sam highly doubted they'd even be able to get into the first fence without being shot down), and Nancy and Jonathan were ordered to stay back and make sure the kids stay (mostly because Sam had tried leaving Hopper and Joyce, fighting hard with the chief on it). The two teenagers were not in the gym, but presumably in the gym's entrance.
Dustin, Mike, and Eleven sat on the first row — with Eleven tiredly resting her head on Mike's shoulder — Sam and Lucas on the second, and Corey by himself, per usual, on the third.
Not one of the kids were at easy hearts right now, all stressed out about everything that could be happening right now. Or, at least, Sam was. Will could be dead, Hopper could be dead, Joyce could be dead, Barbara was dead, maybe the Bad Men had arrived and even Nancy and Jonathan were dead—
Okay, so a lot of people could be dead, and Sam needed to calm the hell down.
Sam glanced behind herself anxiously, feeling uncomfortable with having Corey behind her; knowing he could be staring at her, judging her, and she couldn't do anything about it. But he was zoned out, eyes trained on nothing in particular. Sam sighed a how anxious she could really get; she turned back to face the front, elbows on her knees impatiently.
Lucas leaned into Sam, whispering into her hear, "So... Corey?"
Sam turned her head, face close to Lucas's. She didn't risk turning her head back again, but side-eyed her cousin to see he hadn't moved in the past few seconds. Sam locked eyes with Lucas.
"Yeah," she breathed. "I mean, I guess. I don't know."
Lucas frowned at the uncomfortable look on Sam's voice. He kept his voice low, said, "It's weird."
What was weird — the fact Corey was here, that he was being civil, that he wasn't beating anyone up, that he wasn't vandalizing property, that he and Sam weren't stuck in a screaming match — Lucas didn't specify, but they all were viable prospects. Sam agreed with all of the unspoken options.
"It is," Sam agreed, because she didn't really know what else to say.
Lucas asked, "Are you okay?"
Sam huffed, because that question had a lot of weight to it. She stared out, contemplating, before glancing at Lucas again. "Ask me tomorrow?"
"Well," Lucas started, sounding like a fucking nerd. He checked his watch for moment, then said, "This day's almost over, so I guess I'll be asking you in about—"
"Oh, my god," Sam barked out a laugh, nudging Lucas in the shoulder with her own. "Shut up, you nerd."
Lucas couldn't even be offended at the insult. He was letting Sam shove him, smiling back at her.
Mike abruptly shot up from the bleachers, running out of the gym. The remaining kids shared confused looks, wondering where Mike had gone off to. However, that answer came soon because a few minutes later, he entered the gym again. When he reached the rest of them, Sam noted a distressed look on his face.
"They're gone," were the words that flew out of Mike's mouth.
"What the hell are you saying, Wheeler?" Corey asked in a tried tone.
Choosing better than to respond to the attitude in Corey's question, Mike just answered it instead. "Nancy and Jonathan. His car's gone."
"They're probably just sucking face somewhere," Dustin dismissed.
"Gross," Lucas's face screwed up, nose crinkling.
Sam looked at Lucas in confusion, "I thought you said she was dating Steve Harrington?"
"She is," started Dustin with a shrug, "but you never know. Those Byers' have alluring charisma."
"They're not sucking face," Mike said, disgusted about the insinuation. "No way!"
Dustin sighed that his theory was shut down. He asked, "Did they go with the chief?"
"I don't know!"
"No," Eleven replied quietly, though she was loud enough for everyone to hear, causing Sam to send her a perplexed look.
They were all staring at her quietly, wondering how Eleven knew all these things.
It was Corey who broke the silence with, "Damn, this random girl really is a little weirdo."
Sam hit Corey in the shin, gesturing at him with a look that said to shut up.
"Did you see them?" Mike questioned Eleven. "Do you know where they went?"
"Yes."
"Where? Where did they go?" asked Mike immediately, doing a horrible job at hiding his concern for Nancy.
"Demogorgon."
Sam's face dropped, not only in shock, but also in fear for what may happen to Nancy and Jonathan. She wasn't the only one who felt this way, as the members of the Party shared worried looks.
"What the hell does that mean?"
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"Guys — guys! This is crazy," said Mike, trying to convince everyone they needed to act. "We can't just wait around!"
"In the past couple of hours I've found out dead people are actually alive, alternate dimensions exist, our lab actually opened up a Gate to said dimension, and that dimension has monsters and shit like Demogorgons or whatever the fuck they're called in it," ranted Corey, saying the most he's said the whole night. "You want to throw yourself right into that like an idiot?!"
"Oh, I'm the idiot?!" Mike snapped, wheeling around to Corey. "What have you done, Corey, to help out?! Sit here and make sarcastic comments like you know everything when you've only been tuned in for less than a day?!"
Corey laughed humorlessly, both boys inching close to each other. "Yeah, because if you stopped and thought for five fucking seconds, you'd remember that you're all still fugitives! The only one who can actually leave is me!"
"Then leave!" Mike retaliated. Sam, Lucas, and Dustin were all watching with parted mouths, Eleven looking scared, still on the bleachers. "No one is asking you to be here! Not even your own damn cousin!"
"Okay!" Sam intervened, putting herself between Corey and Mike, pushing them apart. "Guys, stop—"
Corey ignored Sam, laughing humorlessly. "Oh, that's really nice, Wheeler. Nice to hear you don't care I'm basically risking my life for you."
"That doesn't mean anything when you haven't even been here for the last twelve years," snarked Mike, acting as if the Party was a thing for that long. "Or, actually, thirteen, because your delinquent ass got held back!"
"All right," Dustin muttered, "this is getting deeper than it needs to be."
"ENOUGH!" Sam shouted for a second time, and finally, finally, the two boys shut up. The shock on everyone's faces was evident that Sam had gotten that aggressive. Still in between Corey and Mike, her heads looked between them with a glare. "Corey, I get you're in the know now... but Mike is right: you don't understand all of this yet. We don't understand all of this yet... Mike," her head faced her friend now, "he does have a point. The Bad Men are still looking for us, and we don't even know where your sister is."
Mike frowned at her with a gaping mouth, looking offended. Gesturing to the bleachers, he said, "El can find them!"
"Mike, look at her!" Dustin interjected himself into the argument, hand pointed straight at Eleven. They all shifted their heads to analyze the bald girl; she was curled in on herself, looking weaker than ever. "I still think we should stick to the chief's plan."
Lucas added, "Exactly. We stay here, keep El out of sight, and keep her safe. That's the most important thing, remember?"
Sam could not believe just mere hours ago Lucas wanted to leave her for dead.
Corey, who was now behind Sam, Lucas, and Dustin — kind of being guarded by them — peered at Mike with a smug look that seemed to piss Mike off even further.
"And Nancy's okay, Mike," said Sam, trying to hide Corey more because she knew him well enough. "She can handle herself. And she's with Jonathan, who knows, like, every single life skill, somehow."
"Yeah," Dustin agreed, "Nancy's kind of a badass now, so..."
With that, Dustin pivoted on his heel and started walking towards the other side of the gym. The remaining Party members eyed him in confusion, watching Dustin strut.
"Where are you going? You just said stick to the plan!" called out Mike in exasperation, hands throwing up in the air.
While Dustin looked back at them, he continued walking the other way with, "I am! I'm just gonna go get some chocolate pudding!"
"What?" questioned Corey, sounding thoroughly done and judgmental.
"I'm telling you," explained Dustin, "Lunch Lady Phyllis hoards that shit!"
"Are you serious?" Mike snapped, mannerisms almost exactly the same as Corey's, but Sam knew better than to point that out right now.
"El needs to be recharged!"
Lucas started trailing after Dustin, leaving Sam, Mike, Corey, and Eleven behind. Mike surveyed the group that was left, and his eyes fixed on Corey for long enough to harden into a glare again. Peeling them away, he landed on Sam.
"I'll help move El to the cafeteria," Mike told her. "You can babysit him."
He walked over to where Eleven sat on the bleachers, leaving the two cousins behind. Corey was scowling, of course, and Sam was gaping at Mike miserably, although he could see her. She analyzed Corey with a stare, then back towards Mike, then to nothing in particular just so she could sigh tiredly.
Fucking fantastic.
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"MIKE! I FOUND THE CHOCOLATE PUDDING!"
"OKAY!"
While Henderson and Sinclair raided the kitchen for Lunch Lady Phyllis' stash of chocolate pudding, Wheeler and Eleven conversed on a barren lunch table in the cafeteria. Sam and Corey were sitting on the floor with their backs against one of the cafeteria's walls, away from Wheeler and Eleven but still in the same vicinity.
Corey didn't know how to do this — didn't know how to show Sam that he didn't hate her as much as she thought he did. It's not my fault you never cared enough to notice, had been running through his head all night. How bad had he been towards her? Was it so bad that Sam roped Corey in with his parents?
Was he just like his dad?
He didn't know the answer to that and didn't think he even wanted to. Corey had just been sitting here in silence, in fear that he would only make everything worse. That's what he usually did — destroyed something until he couldn't anymore, until his anger had finally run its course and all that was left was shameful regret.
In Corey's opinion, Sam was the nicest person in the history of the universe. He couldn't comprehend how someone could go through everything she did, and still be radiant towards others. Maybe that's why she pissed him off so much — maybe he was angry that he couldn't be like her.
Somehow, he and Sam were back to just looking at each other, again. Corey didn't know how they always ended up like this. He actually hated looking at people. Speaking to them, as well. Hearing them breathe.
"You called me by my nickname, you know," Sam broke the silence finally, voice quieter than usual.
Corey arched his brow. "Sam?"
The younger cousin smiled. "Sammy."
Which, Corey absolutely did not believe happened. His confusion must've shown on his face, because Sam's smile grew, and he'd never seen the soft gesture directed towards him in a while.
"Right after I found out about Will. You called me Sammy."
Corey would like to argue, but he thought, horrifyingly, that Sam might've been right. He didn't say so, of course. Didn't say anything. Sam didn't seem surprised by this, though; after all these years she had no doubt grown used to Corey's silences.
"You haven't called me Sammy since I was nine."
Corey exhaled a large amount of air, struggling to even think about how he would respond. This was the perfect chance to finally turn his life around, and for some reason, he didn't want to fuck it up. He didn't want Sam to think he was a fuck up.
"I know," he admitted, with much effort. And, with an even greater effort, he said, "I'm sorry."
Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise, although it seemed like she hadn't meant to do that. She quickly recovered her features, clearing her throat a little. "Oh. Um..." her eyes darted around, unsure, "thanks?"
Corey huffed in amusement, although internally his heart was breaking. He'd done this to her. He was the one who convinced Sam that he hated her. It was all on his own accord, and not anyone else's, and now he didn't know how to clean up his own mess.
He was just like his dad.
"You're welcome," said Corey, in a teasing tone. Although, seriously, he added, "I mean it, Sam. I'm sorry. For everything."
Sam looked like a deer caught in headlights. She laughed nervously, saying, "I don't really know what to say to that—"
"I know," he interjected, embarrassed of himself. "And that's... that's my fault. I've treated you like crap — like my dad, and I don't know why I thought that wasn't the shittiest thing for me to do..." Corey wasn't the most vocal person, he never was, but now that he started, it didn't seem like he could stop. Airing everything out, he confessed, "Sometimes I just get so angry, and no one taught me how to contain that, so I... I..."
"You snap?" Sam finished for him, seeing as Corey couldn't find the right words himself. Corey nodded shamefully, but Sam still looked at him with a kind gaze; soft, and nothing like anything his dad has ever looked at him with.
"Yeah," he huffed emotionlessly. "I snap, and then I make everything worse. And it makes me angrier, and then I snap again, and I never want to, and it's just a fucking cycle I can't break."
A cycle of anger, that could just as easily turn into a cycle of abuse if Corey wasn't cautious enough. And that acknowledgement fucking terrified him.
Sam pressed her lips in a line, and Corey could tell she was thinking about something very thoroughly. That was the thing about Sam, she thought everything out, down to its very bone. She was so smart, and Corey didn't get how someone could be so intelligent at her age.
"I get that, Corey," Sam started in a serious voice. "I've lived with you for two years. Trust me. I can understand all of that." She looked at her fingers fidgeting on her bent knees for a second before looking back at Corey. "I just wish you knew that I'm here. I've been here. I don't want you to snap, either. You're family. Few of the only family I have left, and that kind of stuff means a lot to me."
I've been here. I don't want you to snap, either. You're family.
No one in the fucking world deserved Samantha Hughes, and everyone should be aware of that.
"You mean it?" Corey asked, but it sounded more like an olive branch was being handed out.
"Of course I do," responded Sam, accepting his waving, white flag.
And for the first time in a very long while, Corey smiled a genuine smile. Sam mimicked it, and her grin was a heart-warming thing.
"Well," said Corey, and his tone was now a lot lighter than before. He teased, "I guess being cousins with a nerd does have its perks."
His words lacked the usual bite in his tone, and there was nothing tense about the banter. Sam looked even more amused at his words, laughing a little.
She shrugged. In a humored tone, Sam replied, "I'm not all so bad."
No. No, actually, she really wasn't. Honestly, Corey had never really enjoyed a conversation more than he enjoyed this one. It felt like weight was being lifted off his chest in the best way possible.
"And I also think you should find a way to distract yourself," she began. "Channel all that anger into... photography, I don't know—"
"Are you serious?" Corey cut her off quickly, that judgmental stare coming back in full force.
Sam shrugged defensively for herself. "Why not? It worked for Jonathan."
"I thought you were gonna say, like, football, or something."
"Are you serious?" asked Sam, now harboring the judging face. "Maybe if I wanted you to embarrass yourself. Our football team sucks."
Finally finding an opportunity for... Corey didn't know, bonding, he guessed — Corey raised an eyebrow. He wondered, "Isn't Zimmerman Quarterback, or something?"
Totally caught off guard by the question, Sam went stiff. Trying to hide her (totally not) internal panic, Sam side-eyed Corey, then responded, "...Yeah."
"Wow, Samantha," Corey laughed, taking on an amused and teasing tone. "Talking bad about your own boyfriend's playing abilities—"
"Woah, woah, woah, woah!" Sam started, face turning the brightest shade of red. She started sputtering, "What?"
Corey just stared back at her, unamused and blinking with sass.
"How do you know about that?!" Sam was totally appalled, face flaming.
He continued to tease, "So he is your boyfriend?"
"NO!" squawked Sam, gaining the attention of Eleven and an annoyed-looking Wheeler.
The glare Wheeler was sending Corey's way killed the mood almost immediately. That annoyance in Corey returned quickly, and he rolled his eyes before glaring right back. He heard Sam sigh, deflating at the sight of their beef. When Corey broke his fiery gaze with Wheeler to look at Sam, she just seemed disappointed, and it somehow felt worse than any scolding his mother had ever given him.
Corey opened his mouth to explain himself, but nothing would come out.
Sam just shook her head, looking between Corey and Wheeler. "I don't know what that was earlier. I'm not gonna press," she began. Sam shrugged almost unsurely, saying, "But, I mean, I think it'd be cool if you were a part of the Party... If we could be... friends... like when were little."
Little meant before my parents died, and they both knew that, so Sam didn't really need to say it.
Sam continued, "But, Core... That can't happen if you two can't at least tolerate each other—"
"If you think I'm gonna go over there and be besties with him, then you're far mistaken," snapped Corey, much faster and rude than he should have been.
Luckily, Sam was patient and forgiving. Kindly, she told him, "I wasn't going to say that. Maybe just... find a middle ground. Try and resolve something. I don't know. But that just seemed like more than a stirred-up argument."
Somehow, Sam was good at spotting these things. Corey hated it as much as he was grateful for it. Now would be one of those times he absolutely resented her for her social awareness.
Corey sighed to himself, shifting his head to stare at Wheeler for far longer than he needed to. For some reason, Wheeler was already staring at him.
Whatever that was, was severed by bright light from outside glaring at the cafeteria windows. Both Sam and Corey stood up in confusion. They saw Wheeler shooting out of his chair next to Eleven.
"Nancy!" Wheeler exclaimed, breaking out into a run. "Hold on, I'll be right back! Just stay here!"
Throwing out any thought of reconciling with Wheeler, Corey made a quick decision. He muttered, "I don't trust him," to Sam right before ignoring her complaints and running after the raven-haired boy.
Corey was luckily faster than Wheeler, able to catch up with him quickly.
"Where the hell are you going?" Corey asked, following Wheeler as he headed for the middle school's exit doors.
Corey could hear Wheeler exhale in annoyance. Sparing Corey an annoyed glance before facing forward again, Wheeler snapped, "Didn't you hear me? I'm looking for Nancy."
In unison, they both slammed open the front doors, exiting the school to see who was outside.
"Did you forget that whole argument we had about being hunted down by the government?" Corey retaliated, hot on his tail. "Speaking of, I actually wanted to—"
Corey completely stopped in his tracks at the sight before him. The car pulling up was not, in fact, Nancy Wheeler. And, actually, there wasn't just one car.
No. Instead, there was a multitude of military cans, trucks, and cars pulling into the Hawkins Middle School parking lot at top speeds. Suited and uniformed men began filing out, pointed guns in hand.
"Chances they're not looking for us?" Corey asked, forgetting to mask the fear in his voice.
"Zero," answered Wheeler immediately, sounding just as terrified. "Run."
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Lucas and Dustin rejoined Sam and Eleven in the lunch room not long after Corey and Mike left them. The two boys returned with arms full of pudding, so much that Sam's eyes went wide at how much chocolate pudding could even exist.
They dumped the desserts onto an empty table with excited smiles.
"This will charge your battery right up. I'm telling you," Dustin said, when Eleven picked up a can and stared at it uncertainly.
Lucas was directly across the circle table from Sam. She raised an eyebrow with him, silently conveying a question that Lucas shrugged in response to. Dustin was ripping into one of the pudding cans, while Eleven tried to figure out how to do the same.
Before anyone could eat pudding, though, Corey and Mike were running back in like mad-men.
"Guys!" Mike ran in, harboring an imperative tone. "Guys!"
Brows creased, Sam asked, "What is it?"
"They found us," Corey panted, now having run up to the Party's table. "They're here."
"Shit!" cursed Dustin, and in the next second, six pairs of legs were shoving each other out of the cafeteria and running into the hallways.
Sam made sure all her friends were a safe distance down the hallway before shoving a teacher's cart in front of the cafeteria door to bide them a few more seconds of running time.
She caught up to them quickly enough, throwing herself down a set of steps and taking a sharp right before running point blank into Dustin's backpack. Her friend yelled at the sudden impact, spinning around in alarm and expecting a glaring uniformed agent with 9mm pointed at his head.
"It's me! It's me!" Sam gripped his forearms, trying to shut Dustin up.
Dustin panted heavily, slowly calming down as he registered Sam's panicked-stricken face. "Oh, shit. Hey, Specks. I thought you were—"
"Run!" Sam shrieked, urging her friends to keep moving with a newfound desperation. She was not going to let her friends be hurt by the Bad Men in any way. These people were her family, blood related or not, and Sam wasn't lying when she told Corey that kind of stuff meant a lot to her.
The group of six sprinted as fast as their legs would allow them, turning down lightless corner after lightless corner until they reached a hallway that would eventually take them to the exit.
Sam felt hope surge in her chest, filling her up with false promised of freedom and accomplishment — and it all vanished at the sight of bright lights emerging from the door. Her eyes widened, realizing that the Bad Men had foiled their plans of exiting and now had sight of them. The kids didn't waste any time turning back and running into a different corridor to find another exit. However, as they did, more flashlights came around the corner and the six kids quickly turned back.
Running through the corridor again, Sam hoped that their next turn would lead to safety. Unfortunately, she was proven wrong when more soldiers appeared before the Party, led by a woman with silver, blonde hair and a sleek black suit complimented by her pristine, white overcoat. She advanced on them with two uniformed guards flaking her sides, guns pointed and flashlights blinding.
Sam knew it without even having to looking around — they were surrounded on all sides, being caged in. The blonde lady cocked her gun, pointing it right in their direction. More specifically, Eleven's direction.
In a panic, Sam pushed Eleven behind her, making sure Sam was in aim of the gun instead of Eleven.
The woman stepped closer to Sam, her finger rested on the trigger, and before Sam could even blink, Eleven was moving Sam's arm away from her and stepping forward. When Sam glanced her head back, the determination in Eleven's eyes was scary; they were trained on the group of assailants before them, a ruthless ferocity in her stare Sam had never seen before — not even when she flipped the van.
The pursuers immediately halted in place, and Sam opened her mouth to question Eleven's actions when a grim, labored squelching sound filled the air suddenly.
The agents' hands began to waver as blood poured from their eye sockets like tortuous tears. In any other situation, Sam would be fainting, but the adrenaline was fueling her into a tunnel vision. She watched as their eyes glazed over, their flashlights began to flicker — and then there was a sickening pop and they all fell to the ground, lifeless and unmoving. Quick, efficient, panful.
Before the Party had time to process that, Eleven dropped, too.
They all rushed over to her as Eleven's head collided with the harsh surface of the school floor, attempting to lure her from her exerted stupor, but she continued to fall limp in their hands.
"Eleven?" Corey asked, the concern in his voice a little shocking. "Are you okay? El, you gotta wake up!"
Sam touched Eleven gently on the shoulder, and that one moment of contact made the lights flicker overhead for a second. She immediately retracted her hand, eyes on the boys to decide, "Something's wrong."
Corey looked as if his mind was running a million miles per hour. Eventually, he straightened up, no longer crouching. "All right," he started in an exhale, "I'll go first and make sure the halls are clear."
"Are you stupid, Gray? That's so fucking dangerous!" said Mike, shooting up immediately so he could grab Corey's sleeve.
"You guys are at a much bigger risk than me!"
"That doesn't mean you're not important!"
"So you do care about me?"
"Guys!" Sam broke apart their bickering for, like, the millionth time. Both boys looked down at Sam, who was kneeled around Eleven with Lucas and Dustin. They noted that Sam's fingers were resting over Eleven's dulling pulse. Then, "She's barely breathing."
"We gotta go," urged Lucas, glancing up and down the hallway worriedly.
Just as they were all about to stand up, an alien voice caught their attention.
"Leave her!" came the chilling voice, and they all turned to watch as a second group of suits rounded the corner, this time led by a white-haired man with an evil glint in his eyes. "Step away from the child."
"No!" Mike argued.
With a scowl, Sam remarked, "How about you step away from the child?"
The man's eyes narrowed on Sam a suspicious amount.
"You want her?" scoffed Corey. "You have to kill us first."
"That's right!" Dustin agreed.
"Eat shit!" barked Lucas.
But they only could do so much, being so little and unprepared for their age. Venomous words got them virtually nowhere, because in the next second, all five of them were being yanked away from Eleven; there was a guard designated to each kid, using both of their firm arms to encase them away from the fray. Sam yelled and struggling, squirming to be released, but the guard holding her had his arms around Sam's middle and was hoisting her into the air; it didn't help that Sam was the smallest of the bunch. Despite her weakness, Sam continued to punch and kick and yell out obscenities with her friends as they all tried scratching their way out.
In the end, they could only helplessly watch as the ugly, old man bent down to Eleven and held her, while Sam and the boys let out demands for him to let Eleven go. No matter how much they tried to get free of how loud they yelled, the Bad Men were overpowering the Party.
They couldn't save their friend.
"Eleven?" the man tried getting through to her, holding Eleven's face on either side with his large hands. "Eleven, can you hear me? Eleven?"
Eleven's eyes were fluttering open and shut. Weakly and groggily, she said, "Papa?"
He lightened up, and it made Sam sick to her stomach.
"Yes, yes. It's your Papa. I'm here now."
"Get off of me!" Sam demanded, trying to push herself from the soldier that held her back.
Corey, still thrashing himself back and forth, yelled, "Leave her alone!"
"Let her go!" Mike screamed. "Let her go, you bastard!"
The ugly, old man turned Eleven away from her view of the Party. He cooed, "Shh, shh, you're sick," when she tried struggling or complaining. "You're sick, but I'm going to make you better. I'm going to take you back home, where I can make you well again. Where we can make all of this better, so no one else gets hurt."
Eleven weakly met his stare, and for a moment, the ugly, old man looked optimistic at that small reaction.
But then, Eleven opened her mouth, and replied, "Bad... Bad." She slowly reached her arm out towards the party, glancing at Mike. "Mike... Mike. Mike!"
Suddenly, the lights overhead began flickering violently. Sam felt her breath hitch in her throat when she registered the pool of blood they were all standing in.
"Blood," Sam realized, recalling Nancy and Jonathan's recap of this week's events to them.
We think it can detect blood, Nancy had said. It detects blood, like a shark, and then it strikes.
Lucas looked at Sam right next to him, and asked, "What?"
"Blood," she repeated, eyes trained on the fallen bodies Eleven had slain just moments prior.
As her eyes peered over the bodies, they eventually fell upon loud thuds in the distance. The wall ahead of them began to crack, and the ugly, old man spun around with wide eyes, unaware of the untimely demise he was about to endure.
The wall opened up and out popped a terrifying sight — there, right in front of them, was a bloody, flower-shaped head that fit Nancy and Jonathan's description almost exactly.
"Demogorgon," Dustin uttered, paralyzed with fear.
The beast burst through the wall of Hawkins Middle, opening its flower-shaped face and letting out a scream. This action caused the soldiers' grip on the Party to fall slack so they could point their guns at the blood-thirsty beast. As the agents started shooting wildly at the Demogorgon, the kids used this distraction to make their move and grab Eleven.
Corey, the strongest of the six, carried Eleven bridal style while Lucas, Mike and Dustin led the way to their nearest safety. Sam hesitated, just for a second, eyeing one of the soldier's corpses on the group.
"Sam, COME ON!" shouted Corey desperately, not advancing until he knew Sam was following their lead.
Impulsively, before she could second guess herself further, Sam picked up one of the machine guns (an MP5K, to be exact) that used to belong to a now-dead soldier before running after Lucas, Mike, Dustin, Corey, and Eleven.
Sam... sort of knew how to shoot guns, which was a fact absolutely nobody knew about her. Seriously. The only people that had known were Sam's parents, who are now — as everyone knew — dead. The long story turned short was, Sam's mom was always paranoid about being attacked, for some reason. So paranoid, that she taught her eight-year-old and thirteen-year-old daughter how to shoot guns in case anything happened to them.
Well, Sam was currently thanking her mom up above for her extreme paranoia and worry.
She caught up to the Party, who was being led by Mike down hallway after hallway. There didn't seem to be any free exit for them, so Mike ultimately went for an empty classroom at the end of the corridor. Lucas opened it, allowing for Mike, Dustin, Corey, Eleven, and Sam to enter. He followed in afterward, closing the door and making sure it was locked.
"Sorry. Hold on, we're almost there," Corey said to Eleven as he carried her toward the back of the classroom. Everyone else followed him when Corey muttered, "Help, help. Come on, get her on the table."
Once Corey set her down, he let out along, heavy breath with his hands on his hips. From the corner of his eye, he could spot Sam; once he did, Corey had to do a double take.
"Where the hell did you get a machine gun?"
All eyes were on Sam now, and they were wide with the realization this twelve-year-old was harboring a gun. Sam retorted, "From one of the hundred dead corpses out there, if you missed them."
"Jesus, Hughes," breathed Lucas, eyes darting up and down her. "Looks like you really ended up bringing a gun in the end, huh?"
'You completely missed the point! Anything would have better than grunge clothes.'
'What did you want me to bring, Lucas? A gun?'
Sam huffed, although they didn't really have time to laugh at any jokes right now. The Demogorgon was on the hunt for them, so nothing was really funny.
Mike stood by Eleven's side, holding her hand in an attempt to comfort her. He spoke, "Just hold on a little longer, okay? He's gone. The Bad Man's gone. We'll be home soon, and my mom... she'll get you your own bed. You can eat as many Eggos as you want."
"Promise?" Eleven whispered, her tears prickling her eyes.
He nodded, "Promise."
Sam noticed that the lights in the classroom were flickering and each second it was intensifying, causing a sick feeling to grow in her stomach. Before she could point this out to her friends, something else beat her to it — the screams of the Demogorgon. Sam, Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Corey jumped back in shock as the sound of gunshots were heard. In return, Sam's grip on her machine gun tightened in precaution.
However, the sound of the rapid-fire went away in the next breath. The Party just stared at the locked door in fear, knowing nothing good was going to follow this silence.
"I-I-Is... Is it dead?" stammered Dustin, and he sounded so fucking scared.
Sam gulped, shaking her head stiffly. "I don't think that's the case."
To confirm Sam's theory, the door blew open, revealing the Demogorgon. The five kids jumped back, terror filling their bones at the sight of the monster. They had to act quickly, so Mike, Dustin, and Corey ushered the two people who had some sort of weapons: Sam with her gun and Lucas with his wrist rocket.
Lucas threw his backpack off his shoulders and onto the table where Eleven lay. He quickly pulled out his wrist rocket and the chosen rock, pulling it, squinting to aim.
Sam did not know why the boys were surprised when it merely bounced off the Demogorgon's head. The only effect Lucas had was angering the beast further.
"MOVE!" Sam yelled finally, shoving Lucas out of the way and standing in front of the whole Party.
All right, Sammy, you got it. Just take the safety off and cock it.
Machine guns were much different than pistols, Sam quickly figured it out. But she was a smart kid, and they were about to die, so she adjusted to her weapon as swift as she could.
That's my girl. Deep breath in, hold to aim, slow breath out and—
Sam held her finger on the trigger, and the bullets started firing out at a rapid pace. The Demogorgon roared in anger, flailing its body around and trying to attack the kids for shooting at it. Sam continued shifting so she was in front of the Party at all times, changing her aim when she needed to.
Luckily, she didn't miss once.
Unluckily, the Demogorgon was barely phased by the wounds of a bullet. If anything, it was just caught off guard and pissed off.
"KEEP SHOOTING!" Mike yelled from behind Sam, not even noticing that he and Corey were clutching each other out of fear.
"KILL HIM, SAM!" Dustin desperately added.
"CAN YOU TELL I'M TRYING?!" Sam shouted right back, sparing them just once glance before whipping her head towards the Demogorgon again. She continued the rapid-fire, shooting the bullets right into the Demogorgon's opened, four-lipped mouth.
Sam wished she had realized that was the Demogorgon's weak spot much earlier, because right when she did, she heard the gun click.
The cartridge of bullets was empty.
"FUCK!" yelled Sam, dislodging the cartridge and confirming they were, in fact, out of bullets. The cartridge clattered down the ground harshly with Sam's frustration.
"GIVE ME THAT!" Corey called out, coming right up to Sam and taking the weapon from her hands.
She watched, a little taken aback, as Corey chucked the useless gun right at the Demogorgon with as much strength as he could muster.
The most surprising thing, was that the Demogorgon flung back, crashing into the chalkboard. Sam stumbled back a bit with the boys, trying to grasp how Corey's little throw managed to make the tall beast crash into the board just like that.
Her answer came when Eleven stepped through the group, her own eyes on the Demogorgon. Worry washed over Sam upon seeing Eleven stand up — she looked paler than before, and her veins were popping out of her head while blood dripped through her nose and ears. Only a minute ago, she couldn't even sit up, but not, she was using all her energy to stop the Demogorgon. Sam knew right then something was about to happen.
Eleven took slow, determined steps towards the creature as it squirmed from where it had been embedded in the green chalkboard, debris falling all around it as it struggled to break out of the girl's invisible hold and the lights began to flicker even more violently.
Mike acted first, rushing forward to grab a hold of her arm, only to be thrown backward with a single flick of her wrist. He was sent crashing into the equipment cupboards with a strangled yell.
Eleven continued walking toward the Demogorgon. The lights began flickering immensely again, and the only sound in the room was the Demogorgon's agonizing shrieks. Sam assumed it was from the pain Eleven was bringing it, but Sam only grew concerned. Eleven was far too weak to accomplish this — was she doing to die?
At that thought, tears stung in Sam's eyes.
Eleven stopped before the Demogorgon and glanced back at the Party.
"Goodbye, Mike," Eleven sorrowfully whispered. She turned her attention back to the beast in front of her who continued its roars. "No more."
Eleven shot her arms forward while the Demogorgon let out a high-pitched shriek. Sam covered her ears at the agonizing noise, and the boys did the same as they all let out groans. She grimaced, shutting her eyes as the sound intensified, Eleven's screams meshing with the Demogorgon's. It felt like an eternity, but the ear-shattering noises eventually came to a stop. Sam opened her eyes, slowly removing her hands from her ears and lifting her head. She looked to the front of the classroom, the spot where Eleven once stood now vacant. Instead, there were dark specks, almost like ashes, falling to the floor.
Sam let out a sorrowful breath as she looked around the classroom.
Eleven was nowhere to be found.
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Who here is waiting for Diane and Anthony Hughes?
Us! Us. We are. We're their daughters. Are they okay?
You two might want to step into the hall with me over here.
Sam sat with an anxious frown on her face, much like everyone else around her. Well, besides those who were sleeping — Lucas, Dustin (who were basically cuddling with each other), and of course Ted Wheeler (Sam didn't get why he thought he had the right to be here). Sam didn't understand how they could sleep in a time like this, but she wished she could. Her eyes refused to close, much like everyone else. They all had different targets, yet all landed up in the same room because of one, common enemy.
I'm so sorry, girls. Your parents... they were gone on impact.
Sam, Lucas, Mike, Dustin, Corey, Chief Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan, Nancy, and — shockingly — Steve Harrington all came together because of the Demogorgon. Now, they were accompanied by Mike's parents and waiting on (hopefully) good news about Will.
What does 'gone on impact' mean, Steph?
Joyce and Jonathan were in his hospital room right now, and Sam really hoped that Will would wake up. She'd already lost Eleven tonight; she'd already lost her two parents. She couldn't lose Will, too.
Sammy, they're... Sammy, I'm so sorry. They're not coming back, kid. They're dead.
Breaking the infuriating silence was Jonathan coming into the waiting room. All heads turned to him, but Jonathan was only looking at Sam and Mike, signaling that they could go into Will's room now.
Sam and Mike whipped their heads to each other, and they both looked the most excited they'd been in a long time. Both kids quickly got out of their seats and tried shaking their sleeping friends awake.
"Guys. Guys, he's up. Will is up."
"Wake your lazy asses up! Will's awake!"
Their vigorous shaking eventually got the two boys up. However, Lucas and Dustin weren't pleased to find that they were laying on each other the whole time, and thus let out irritated groans. Nevertheless, they shot up from their seats too and made their way into the hospital's hallway.
"Wait," Mike — who was far in the lead — stopped in his tracks, causing everyone else to run into him in the process. He turned around, going back into the waiting room with the rest of the Party. All of their eyes were on a particular, brooding delinquent. "Gray, you coming?"
"What?" Corey quietly responded, eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
The Party didn't answer, but instead approached him. Sam pulled Corey out of his seat by his arms, and with Lucas's and Dustin's help, they ushered Corey out the waiting room with them. Corey quickly joined in their ecstatic mood as the six of them headed down the hall where Jonathan was standing by a door.
Mike was the first to push open the door, and run into the room, followed by Sam, Lucas, Dustin, and Corey.
There on the hospital bed in the room laid Will Byers in his nose while his mom, Joyce, sat beside his bed. When the Party entered the room, Joyce moved from the bed and stepped to the back with Jonathan.
"BYERS!" Lucas exclaimed in joy.
Sam, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin all attacked Will in hugs of their own while Corey awkwardly stood beside them, giving Will a stiff wave.
"You're alive!" Sam choked out, tackling the boy to the mattress and shrieking into his shoulder, the pure exhilaration coursing through every vein and artery in her body. "YOU'RE ALIVE!"
"I'm alive!" Will coughed, his voice considerably weaker, but just as enthusiastic.
"Be careful," Joyce told them with a slight chuckle. "Be careful with him."
Sam would apologize for ignoring her requests later, too focused on squeezing the living daylights out of Will. Dustin had to physically wrench Sam off of him just so he could hug Will tightly for himself.
"Guys, guys, go easy on him," Jonathan chimed in.
Although they were done squeezing the living daylights out of Will, that didn't do anything to tamper their joy. All of the kids beamed down at their best friend, feeling the best they all had in a while.
"You won't believe what happened when you were gone, man," Lucas started in excitement.
Dustin nodded vigorously, saying, "It was mental!"
"You had a funeral."
"Jennifer Hayes was crying."
In amazement, Sam claimed, "And Troy peed himself!"
"What?" Will responded weakly, eyes wide.
Incredulously, even though he witnessed in with his own eyes, Dustin recounted, "In front of the whole school!"
"It was awesome," Corey piped in with a chuckle. The other five of them joined in with their own, amused laughs.
However, their laughter died and was replaced with concern when Will's giggles turned into coughing fits, hitting them all with the reminder of the horrible events of the past week. Corey looked scared, almost as if he felt responsible for Will's coughs.
"You okay?" Sam asked once he stopped.
"It got me," replied Will solemnly. "The Demogorgon."
With a frown, Mike said, "We know. It's okay. It's dead. We made a new friend."
Will's eyes moved over to Corey, an inquisitive look on his features. He wondered, "Corey?"
"Well," Mike was too flustered and stubborn to directly answer that question. "I was talking about someone else."
"But Corey is in our Party now," Lucas informed, motioning for Corey to move in closer to them all.
Will asked, "Really?" at the same time Corey questioned, "I am?"
Surprising everyone, it was Mike who answered Will and Corey. He did it after a sigh, and sounded like it was very hard for him to admit, but eventually he said, "Yeah. He is. You are."
"We're still trying to figure out what his role is," said Dustin, trying to smooth past both boys' looks of surprise. "I think he'd be a great Barbarian."
Sam nodded in agreement, then added, "We also found ourselves a Mage."
"You did?" Will rasped out. "Who?"
"She stopped the Demogorgon," Mike informed, apparently grateful for the subject change. "She saved us... But she's gone now."
Corey, slowly growing to feel comfortable around the Party, said, "Her name's Eleven."
"Like the number?" Will questioned in a tone of disbelief.
Lucas shrugged, saying, "Well, we call her El for short."
"She's a badass," Sam elaborated.
"Apparently so is Sam," said Mike, reminding the boys what had happened at the school. Their excited smiles returned in full, looking from Sam to Will with rapid nods.
Will opened his mouth to question her, but Sam was already shaking her head vigorously. "No. I'm not."
"Yes. You are," Lucas countered. Turning to Will, he explained, "Sam had a gun!"
"No way!" awed Will, seeming like he really wanted to know more.
The boys present nodded in unison, very eager to tell the tale.
"Yeah, man," started Dustin. "She was all like" — he recreated the motions Sam had went through with the gun, making it seem a lot cooler than it actually was.
"And the Demogorgon was all like" — Corey pretended to be the flailing Demogorgon while Dustin continued mock-shooting at him. Sam rolled her eyes fondly, trying to cover up the smile that was threatening to break through.
"And we also think she has superpowers—" Lucas began, but Sam cut that bud before it could sprout.
"I don't," she immediately denied to Will. "But El does."
Allowing for a subject change, Corey agreed, "She's basically a wizard."
"More like a Yoda," Mike disagreed, but the heat between the two boys wasn't there this time.
"She flipped a van—"
"—with her mind—"
"—We were fugitives for the government—"
"—Yeah, these agents were trying to shoot us—"
"—it flipped over us—"
"—Then she squeezed their brains out—"
"—and blood was pouring out of their faces—"
"—Sam didn't even throw up at the blood—"
"—Agents just started grabbing us and stuff—"
"—The Demogorgon shot out of the wall—"
"—through all this red goop..."
And Sam thought, finally, that they would all be okay. Despite the struggle, Sam and her boys would be okay.
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she erm on my well till i that just happened
COREY POV ALERT COREY POV ALERT!
okay guys i get he's lowk really annoying rn but sue him he has like a million things to be annoying about. his character development is something very dear to my heart especially since it's founded in love for his cousin not some stupid shit like changing for a love interest. he just cares about his family.
also totally NOT implying that he and mike are love interests (they are) but if i was (i am) i would tell you that their ship name is colorwheel because 1) corey GRAY = color 2) mike WHEELER = wheel 3) gay name 4 gay ppl
what'd you think?