Chapter Text
A yellow glow brushes through the hospital curtains. Lucas loves this time of day. Golden hour, he heard Jonathan call it once. It’s early to be here, but it’s the one time of day that Max looks alive. The one time he can imagine that she really is just sleeping. She’d never be awake at 6 am anyway.
“Hey Max, I brought your favorite. And before you flip out on me, don’t worry, I’ll explain what’s happening in the pictures.” He pulls out a set of Wonder Woman comics that were Max’s. As far as he knew, she hadn’t gotten around to reading them yet.
He looks over at her, hoping she would argue, maybe even roll her eyes at him and flip him the middle finger insisting she could read it her damned self. Of course, she doesn’t. She remains as corpse-still as she was months ago.
“Okay… I’ll start already. Pff, impatient as always.”
Lucas taps his foot in the bedside chair nervously. Every once in a while, he looks up and examines her. Whenever the tension in the story ramps up, he glances to see if she twitches. At the soft moments, he looks for a smile.
Eventually, he reads the last page of the comic and shuts it. He placed it down on the table beside him. He lingers in the pause, watching her.
“Wonder Woman is pretty cool, but she’s got nothing on you.” He grabs her hand softly. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to grab some water. Don’t start without me, okay?”
He steps out into the hallway, sterile and hollow. The vending machine in the waiting room hums softly as he punches in the numbers. The metal spiral churns to release the water bottle but jams partway. A low grumble builds in his throat, and he kicks the metal base.
“Stupid. fucking. machine.” He slams his fist into the glass.
The items rattle before dropping to the bottom of the vending machine. He turns to Eleven, who quickly wipes her nose from the waiting room chair behind him.
“Thanks.” He can’t help the way his voice quakes at the familiarity.
“How is Max?”
“Same as always.” He sighs before continuing. “The doctors say there’s no reason she shouldn’t be waking up. Her brain activity looks normal. She’s pretty much fully healed from her injuries, I mean aside from…”
“Her eyes.” Eleven finishes for him.
“…yeah. She’ll probably be blind if she wakes up… “
“When. When she wakes up.” El insists.
“El… you haven’t been able to find her for three months.” Lucas exhales, broken and quiet.
“Not yet .” El clenches her fist, “I just have to look harder…”
“Even if you find her, you can’t make her wake up.” Lucas shakes his head. “And if she wakes up -“
“ When .”
“ If she wakes up, her mother is dead, she’s probably blind, possibly crippled, and maybe even paralyzed.” Lucas chokes down tears. “Does she even want that?” He drops himself into the chair beside her and puts his head in his hands.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” El puts her hand on his shoulder, and he fights the urge to flinch away.
“You’re here to try and find her again, right?” She nods. “I’m… I’m just gonna wait here for a minute, okay? Go ahead.”
His voice is cracked and weak, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. El stands and makes her way to Max’s room, leaving Lucas to his thoughts.
The room is bright white and sterile. Flowers Lucas brought are fresh at her bedside, and hand-drawn Get-Well-Soon letters are plastered on the walls. She tilts her head, looking over Max’s body. Her red hair is frizzy, and hardly washed by any nurses. The casts have long since been removed, and her skin is wrinkly and red in their absence. She looks so tiny in comparison to the bed. It’s obviously made for much taller people. Adults . Not 15-year-old girls.
El sits on the bed beside her, feeling the lukewarm temperature of her skin. Taking her hands, she closes her eyes and reaches, scouring Max’s brain for her. She settles back into the familiar darkness with a reflective, pulsating floor.
She kicks the water at her feet and cries.
“Anything new with Max?” Dustin asks in Mike’s basement. El nearly chokes on a potato chip in surprise.
Lucas visibly tenses. “Maybe if you visited every once in a while, you’d know.”
“Hey dude, that's not fair. I’m practically on house arrest after the stunt we pulled with the cops!” Dustin huffs, crossing his arms tight across his chest.
“Funny, I visit Max plenty.” Lucas scoffs.
“The cops aren’t the problem, Lucas: my Mom.” Dustin shakes his head. “I’m lucky I get to see you guys once a week.”
“Stop fighting,” Will shouts. “We’re all back together, and all you guys want to do is bicker!”
“You’ve been here all summer, I think our comatose friend is more of a pressing issue.” Lucas’s knuckles blanch on the armrest of the couch.
“Yeah? You know what, I miss Max as much as the next person, but El hasn’t been able to find her for months. She’s not THERE. Nothing’s changed! So don’t yell at Dustin for not visiting. If she were awake that would be one thing, but she’s not.” Will swallows down tears. “… She’s not . But we’re all still here. Right now .”
“If she can hear us, don't you think she’d want company? Her friends ?” Lucas bites back venomously.
“Hold on a second…” Dustin interrupts.
“Yeah, well, so much for friendship because you haven’t been around for any of us lately. I get it! We’re all worried about her, but we’ve all been through hell too and we need each other!” Will snaps.
“Guys!”
“What, so I’m just supposed to abandon her to sit alone in the hospital for months? She doesn’t even have a family to visit her anymore! It’s just me! El and Steve are the only ones that bother to show up!”
“GUYS!” Dustin shouts, taking a sharp breath of air. He points frantically at Will. “You. What did you say?”
“What?”
“Like five fucking minutes ago now, what did you say?” Dustin facepalms. “You said that El couldn’t find her, and she wasn’t there .” Everyone remains silent, and Dustin frantically grabs a paper and pen, scribbling wildly.
“You said - Max wasn’t there, and what if she isn’t?” Dustin jabs the ballpoint into the parchment. Lucas’s gaze narrows sharply at Dustin.
“No! Not like that... I mean... what if Max isn’t there as in, inside of, Max.” Dustin draws a stick figure and an arrow to a scrawled scene.
“What's that?” Lucas tilts his head.
Dustin gawks, offended, and shakes his head. “It's obviously the Mind Lair dude.”
“It looks like a water park.” Will tilts his head.
“Those are vines not… I - we can’t all be artists, okay?” Dustin sighs and draws another stick figure in the lair, this time, labeling it ‘Max’ for clarity.
“Max said that when she was with Vecna at the graveyard, she was here, and the bodies of the other victims were here too. If Max was in the mind lair when she got… uh… Vecna’d… couldn’t she still be there?” They pause, mulling it over. A brief glimpse of hope sparks across El’s face, and she examines Dustin’s poorly done drawing.
“Papa - Brenner… he said Vecna consumes them.” The room freezes cold, and El shakes her head violently.
“I’ve been looking in the wrong place.”
The basement door swings open, and Mike barrels down the stairs holding armfuls of Lays chips. Steve is close behind, clutching two-liter bottles of sodas by the head.
“Hey! We’re back with snacks!” Mike grins. He scans the room, and his shoulders slacken. “Uh… did we miss something?”