Chapter Text
March 1994
Max is lost in thought as she absentmindedly wipes a shot glass with a cloth. She’d just seen a news presenter on the TV with wavy brown hair and brown eyes who looked suspiciously like…but no, she was being stupid. Why would El be on TV? You’re just projecting, she chides herself internally.
“One shot of vodka please,” she hears a male voice say, and she looks away from the TV to see a customer standing there waiting for her to turn towards him.
She feels the man’s gaze linger on her face for a second longer than necessary and internally gives him the finger. Yes, I know my eyes are fucked, you don’t need to remind me.
Grumbling under her breath, she not-so-gently places the shot glass down in front of him.
“Your drink,” she mutters, already turning away to look back at the TV.
“Thanks.” The man says, and begins to make his way back to his friends. When he is halfway there, he stops and hesitates for a second before turning back towards her with a large grin on his face
Fuck, she thinks. Please, please don’t do what I think you’re going to.
“You, me, dinner tomorrow?” The still unknown man asks with a smirk, leaning on the bar in front of her.
Yep, there he goes, just like I thought. She hopes he can’t see the disgust on her face. All she wants is to go home and curl up in bed. Although her limbs healed almost perfectly from her near-death experience eight years ago, they still ache sometimes, especially when she’s been on her feet all day.
“I’m not interested, sorry.” She says with attempted sympathy. She thinks it probably came out through gritted teeth but hey, at least she tried, right?
“Oh, okay.” The man says, looking slightly crestfallen. “Have a good night.” He finally goes over to his friends and begins talking to them, gesturing over to her as he speaks.
He’s probably telling them what a bitch I am with my scars and my attitude, she muses. Oh well, at least he didn’t cause any problems. She knows her boss will get fed up with her if she makes any more trouble, although to be quite honest, it’s normally the trouble that finds her, not the other way around.
Like the time she punched a guy when he commented, after being rejected, that she would have been lucky to have him and nobody else would ever want her because she was so ugly. That one had hurt. Or the time some asshole had tried to grab her ass and she’d kneed him in the balls. Ahhh, that felt good. Or the time she punched someone because he was harassing a girl at the bar… Well, maybe the incidents were partly her fault, but she was just sticking up for herself and being a good samaritan. Nobody had done the same for her in a long time.
“Max?” Robin calls, startling her out of her thoughts.
Shit. She grimaces, snapping back into her surroundings. “Yeah Robin?” She asks, hurrying towards the other end of the bar where Robin is standing with her hands on her hips.
“Having fun over there?” Robin smirks and gives her a slightly exasperated look. “You do realize it’s 9:15, right? Your shift ended 15 minutes ago.”
Max groans. “I didn’t even notice the time. Another guy asked me out and it got me thinking.”
“Yeah I could see.” Robin replies slowly. “Everything okay?”
“Yep.” Max says, not making eye contact. “I’m just tired and distracted, I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Okay,” Robin clearly didn’t believe her but knew better than to pry when she was in a mood. “Have a good night then.”
“You too,” Max mumbles, walking towards the back to get her coat.
“And Max?” She turns around slowly, dread balling in the pit of her stomach. “You know I’m always here if you need me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Max replies with a sigh of relief. For a second there she had thought… Never mind. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Robin gives her a small smile. “Anytime.”
“See you tomorrow!” Max waves as she walks out the back door of the bar towards her car. As soon as she gets into the driver’s seat she sags over the steering wheel. Her arms and legs are aching and she wishes she could just teleport home straight into her bed.
Max knows she’s depressed. She knows she should get help. She just doesn’t think she deserves it. For eight years she has been struggling with the knowledge that she should be dead. She deserves to be dead. But damn Eleven… Her breath whooshes out and she realizes that she’s been holding it. El saved her. And then saved her again when she defeated Vecna and returned Max’s soul to her body. She owes everything to Eleven, yet she can barely bring herself to think about her. Whenever she does, she feels like her heart is breaking all over again, just like that day. She drinks to forget that day. If she could go back and do it all again, she would never have done it. Never have kissed El. She heaves a shuddering sigh. Shit. Why can’t I just be normal? Why can’t I just be happy?
She tried. She dated Lucas for the rest of high school, and she was happy. She would wake up screaming, feeling like she was stuck with Vecna again, but he would always be there beside her to comfort and hold her, or El would be, which was a special kind of torture all on its own.
See, when El turned up at the deteriorating Snow Ball and threw Vecna away from her, she thought she must have been dreaming. Surely nobody cared enough about her to try and save her? But El did. And in that moment Max realized she was at least half in love with Eleven. Needless to say, her dying did put a wrench in her plans, but then Eleven saved her again, and again. She never stopped being there for her through everything, and when she woke up from her coma and locked eyes with her, all she wanted to do was blurt out her feelings. She didn’t though, because Lucas was there, and then Mike was, and the rest of her friends, and it never felt like the right time.
She hid it for three more years. Three years of dating Lucas and pretending to be happy. Mind you, she was happy, mostly, and she did love Lucas, in a way. It just wasn’t the same as with her. Every time Max saw Eleven look at Mike with an expression of pure adoration on her face, the cracks in her heart got a little wider. She couldn’t fuck up Eleven’s life by telling her, so she kept it to herself. They continued to have sleepovers, where they’d talk about everything under the sun. They were never touching when they fell asleep but somehow, without fail, every morning she would end up in Eleven’s arms. Sometimes she’d wake up crying and shaking in the night, and El would be there, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She always slept better with her than anyone else. Sometimes she could convince herself that El loved her, not Mike, and her heart would soar, but then they’d meet up with the party and her heart would shatter once again as El ran over to Mike and greeted him with enthusiasm that she could only imagine.
After they’d all decided where they were going to college (El and Mike at one, the rest scattered across the country), Max told Lucas that she didn’t think she could be with him any more. She wanted to live the college life unhindered and free. He was upset, but he understood. She wondered if he was secretly glad, because she didn’t understand how he could have missed the longing looks towards El she couldn’t always hide.
The day before they all left, Max pulled Eleven aside and kissed her. She hadn’t been planning to, she just wanted to tell her how much she appreciated her friendship, but no. Her stupid body had to betray her. It wasn’t a long kiss, but in the days and months and years afterwards, she would convince herself that Eleven had been about to reciprocate. Max came to her senses before that happened though, running away from Eleven before the other woman could say anything. If she’d waited, she might have seen the half-formed words on her friend’s lips. She quickly said her goodbyes to the rest of her friends and left, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with El. That was the night she began to drink.
She went to college. She drank a lot and had a lot of sex with a lot of different people. She even tried some drugs, although she never quite developed a taste for anything. She got her degree (in nursing, not that she was using it) and she moved on with her life. She avoided the party. Some of them tried to call, and although it was nice to hear from them, the conversations were mostly stunted and awkward. Eleven never called, not once.
Lucas visited her a few times over the years, mostly when he’d just broken up with his latest girlfriend. She enjoyed the company and the sex, and it was nice to have a reprieve from the nightmares for a few nights, but he always left. And when he was gone, the nightmares always came back. These visits stopped after a few years though, and the calls got less and less frequent. She felt forgotten but supposed she had only herself to blame; after all, she was the one who had fucked up and left.
Robin was the only person from Hawkins she really kept in touch with. She had moved to Indianapolis a couple of years after Max began her degree, and she was the one who got her the bartending job after she graduated and confessed to burnout. It wasn’t fancy, but it paid the bills, and she appreciated Robin’s friendship more than the older woman could ever know. During a night of heavy drinking a few months into their friendship, the two women shared their sexuality with each other, and to this day, Robin is the only person to know about Max’s feelings for El.
Max hears a light tap on the window and jumps slightly, rolling it down to see Robin on the other side. “Jesus, you scared me.”
“Go home Max!” Robin laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been out here for half an hour already.”
“I know, I know, I’m going!” Max is about to roll up the window when Robin stops her.
“Can we get dinner tomorrow night?” She asks hesitantly. “I know your shift finishes at 6 and there’s something I want to talk to you about. My treat.”
“Sure,” Max says wearily. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I just want to run something by you,” Robin calls over her shoulder as she walks towards her car. “Besides, it’s been ages since we’ve hung out outside of work!”
Max rolls her eyes and starts her car, ready to finally leave the bar. She wonders what Robin wants to talk to her about but with a shake of her head decides it’s not the time to dwell on it.
She gets home to cold and darkness and falls asleep fully clothed on top of her blankets. When she wakes up sobbing from yet another nightmare, nobody is there to hold her. She is alone. She rolls over and tries to go back to sleep but rest eludes her and she spends most of the rest of the night thinking about big brown eyes and curly hair.
Max wakes up to her alarm in the morning and knows immediately that today will be another bad day. She’s grumpy and tired, and all she wants to do is go back to sleep and never wake up again.
No. She gives herself a stern talking to. You will not feel sorry for yourself, you will get up and be a productive member of society. She hauls herself out of bed and goes to make coffee. Thank god for small mercies.
She arrives at work still feeling grumpy, but manages to make it through her shift without punching anybody else (a miracle considering how foul she’s feeling, and how stupid the men in Indiana are). Robin comes into the bar just before six and starts rambling in that annoying-but-endearing way that she has; something about a new woman she’s seeing and how she thinks this might be “the one”. This is what, the seventh time Robin has said this in the last year? Max rolls her eyes but keeps her feelings to herself, Robin seems happy and she doesn’t want to ruin her good mood just because she’s lonely and miserable. Besides, she can’t afford to lose the one friend she has.
Max snaps out of her thoughts as Robin trails off. “It’s 6 now so we can go if you want,” she says, glancing at the clock.
“Sure,” Robin replies, shooting her a worried look. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look too good. Do you think it could be because of the…uh…anniversary?”
Max looks up at her, startled. She’d completely forgotten that the 8 year anniversary of her “death” was coming up at the end of the month. Well that makes sense, she thinks to herself. No wonder I’m feeling even worse than usual.
She smiles at Robin. “Honestly, I’d completely forgotten about it, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Robin smiles back at her. “Well, let’s go to dinner then! That will cheer you up.”
Max’s stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly. “Yeah,” she mutters, embarrassed, “let’s go get dinner.”
“Maxine!” Robin exclaims, earning her a glare from Max, who hates her full name with a burning passion. “Do you mean to tell me you haven’t eaten yet today?”
“Uh…” Max tries to find an excuse but fails, shrugging her shoulders and giving Robin a resigned look.
“No wonder you’re in a mood,” Robin mutters, leading the way to her car. “You’re hangry.”
“What was that?” Max asks with a smirk. “Something you wanted to say to me?”
“No, nothing,” Robin answers breezily, opening Max’s door with a flourish. “Your carriage awaits, milady.”
Max bursts out laughing. It feels good. “Don’t be such a dork.” She gets in the car anyway and waits for Robin to shut the door behind her. “Thanks,” she says, making eye contact with the other woman as she gets into the driver’s seat. “It’s nice to have a friend.”
Robin looks at her with an indistinguishable look in her eyes. “Of course. I’m here for you.”
“Yes.” Max sighs. “Anyway, tell me more about this new soulmate you’ve found, I want to hear all the embarrassing details.”
With that, Robin launches into yet another monologue about the new woman. Max looks out the window and smiles. Maybe everything will be okay after all.
Or maybe it won’t.
“He WHAT and he WHAT?” Max exclaims, drawing dirty looks from the other patrons in the restaurant. “Sorry,” she lowers her voice. “But I repeat, he fucking WHAT?” She asks Robin, who just shrugs.
“Yeah, Steve is getting married in June and he wants you to be there.” Robin looks at her carefully, gauging her reaction to the unexpected news.
“How did this happen?” Max asks, still shocked.
“Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much…” Robin trails off as Max glares at her.
Exasperated, Max huffs out a breath. “No, I mean how come Steve is getting married and I didn’t know about it?”
“Well…” Robin doesn’t meet her eyes as she tries to find words to explain. “They haven’t been together very long and they’ve only been engaged for a couple of months.”
“A couple of months?!” Max yelps, quickly apologizing again as she gets more looks. “Rob, you’re supposed to keep me updated on what everyone is doing!”
“I know, I know,” Robin groans, rubbing her forehead. “But you just seemed to be doing better and I didn’t want to bring up…” she hesitates before continuing. “All of this.”
“Okay…” Max looks at her appraisingly. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure about that?” Robin asks, shooting a pointed look at the bags under Max’s eyes that reveal her lack of sleep.
“Well…ugh,” Max sighs, resting her head on the table in front of her. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
Robin lays a hand on Max’s shoulder and she almost flinches, but catches herself just in time. “You don’t have to go, you know, Steve would understand.”
“No,” Max replies, looking up at Robin. “He wants me there so I should go.”
“Okay,” Robin says slowly, looking at Max with eyes that seem to bore straight through her. Max looks away. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”
“I want to go home,” Max says suddenly, standing up so quickly that her chair scrapes loudly against the floor. Not even caring that the other customers were glaring at her yet again, she throws some cash on the table and begins to walk towards the door. “Can you give me a ride back to my car?” She tosses over her shoulder at Robin, who is scrambling to catch up with her. All she wants to do is go home and drink. Drink to forget. Drink to convince herself that seeing her ex-friends again after all these years won’t send her into a spiral that she can never recover from. Drink to try and get El’s look of betrayal after she kissed her out of her head.
Fuck, this is going to be hell, she thinks as she practically runs to the car. She reaches it, almost hyperventilating, and Robin comes rushing up behind her to unlock the door. Her friend helps her into the passenger seat and rubs her back as she calms down. The touch is soothing and she leans into it. God, it’s been so long since someone other than Robin has given a shit about me. The thought makes her sad but she wrenches her attention back to the present. Get it together Max, she thinks, you’ve got more important things to worry about. Well that’s an understatement. Like how you’re going to handle seeing El again after all these years… a traitorous little voice in the back of her head chimes in. No! Fuck off! This is not the time, she tells herself viciously.
She slowly calms down and looks up at Robin ashamedly. “Uh, sorry about that,” she says weakly. “I’m not sure what came over me.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Robin rushes to reassure her. “I should have given you more warning, or explained better, or something.”
“Not your fault,” Max says, wishing she is anywhere but here. “It’s not your fault I’m a mess.”
Robin shoots her a sympathetic look as she walks around to the driver’s side. “Do you want me to drive you home?” She asks worriedly.
“No, it’s okay.” Max says, not making eye contact. “Just take me back to my car. I’ll be okay.”
She doesn’t remember much after that.
She somehow makes it home without crashing her car.
She drinks.
And then she falls into bed, hoping against hope that she won’t have any dreams about warm brown eyes or wavy hair.