Work Text:
The day Billy died, Max’s world felt like it was in slow motion.
She watched as the Mind Flayer stood over El, every nerve in her body screaming at her to move, but she couldn’t. It was like her feet were glued to the floor.
She knew she had to help— had to save her best friend— but she didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there, heart in her throat, as she watched the Mind Flayer’s tendril shoot out towards Eleven, every second seeming to stretch into minutes.
Somehow, though, she didn’t see Billy move until he had grabbed the thing, putting his body between El and the monster.
He screamed— louder than he ever had, even through all of Neil’s abuse— and Max wanted nothing more than to run to him, but it was like her mind had left her body. She could see and hear everything that was happening, but she couldn’t will her feet into doing anything about it.
She thought for a moment— fleetingly, foolishly— that Billy could fight the thing off. That her larger than life big brother was going to show off his strength and push the tentacle all the way back where it had come from. That he’d end the fight with one good, solid punch, but of course she was wrong.
As the rest of the tendrils came out, grabbing Billy, tearing him to shreds, Max thought she may have screamed, but her ears registered nothing. They were ringing, but she couldn’t hear; she could only watch in slow motion as her brother’s body crumpled to the floor, her brain slowly returning to her body as the ringing intensified.
The Mind Flayer fell away— they must’ve closed the gate— but Max barely saw it.
Her control over her body had returned, but the sense of surrealism clouding her mind had yet to dissolve.
Slowly, she walked towards her fallen brother, shock reverberating in every cell of her body. She sank to her knees, only vaguely aware of the pleading words tumbling from her lips like water.
“Billy, it’s okay, you’re okay, just get up. Get up, Billy, please, please Billy please, you have to get up, Billy please.”
Billy’s eyes were unfocused, but they managed to land on Max’s face, a look of sorrow passing over his features.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured around his dying gasps. “I’m so sorry.”
And then he fell back.
The labored motion of his chest stopped, and the only sound in the room was Max, still pleading for him to wake up.
That was when the tears started.
She wasn’t even sad— really, she couldn’t feel anything at all; only numb— but the horror of the situation caught up with her, and she collapsed into El, sobs wracking her frame as she clung to her friend like she was the last tie she had in this world.
It only got worse when— some time later— the officials came to take his body.
She left El then, running back to her brother and throwing herself on top of him, not caring at all that his blood was soaking through her shirt, coating her skin. She refused to let go, and eventually, they put her on the stretcher with him, carrying them both out into the warm night air.
In that moment, Max found herself wishing that the stretcher really was for her.
——
For Nancy, everything sped up.
She watched as the Mind Flayer stood over Eleven, and it seemed like everything was happening too fast for her to possibly react in time to save the girl, a million half formed plans and ideas flipping through her mind at warp speed as she tried to figure out how to get there in time and what to do when she did.
Then, Billy died, and her only thought was “thank God it wasn’t El.”
She felt guilty for that, of course, especially as she watched El cradle a sobbing Max in her lap, but she couldn’t bring herself to truly regret it. After all, all her kids were safe. Nothing else really mattered to her.
After making sure that Jonathan was okay and giving him a quick kiss, she sprinted to Mike, wrapping him in a bear hug for a split second before backing up to look him over, cupping his face and scanning him for any signs of injury.
“Are you okay?” she asked urgently. “Are you hurt?”
Mike shook his head. “I’m okay. We’re all okay.”
“Good,” Nancy sighed, pulling him into another rib crushing hug. “That’s good.”
Mike tolerated it for a little bit, even hugging her back, but eventually, he tensed.
“Nancy,” he said quietly. “Turn around.”
She did, and the sight before her broke her heart.
There were two EMTs attempting to lift Billy’s body onto a gurney, but Max had thrown herself on top of him, burying her face in his blood soaked shirt and clinging to him like a life raft in a storm.
Eventually, one of the EMTs looked at the other and shook his head sadly. The other nodded, and together, they hoisted both kids onto the stretcher before beginning to wheel it outside.
Nancy felt a jolt of panic set in and looked towards Mike and El, her jaw hanging open uselessly as she tried to figure out what to say.
Luckily, sometime in the few minutes she’d been staring at Max, Steve had appeared and was now helping El stand, letting her lean on his shoulder for support despite the fact that he was more bloody and bruised than she was.
“Go,” he said softly. “I’ve got them covered; she’s going to need someone too.”
Nancy smiled gratefully and took off after the paramedics.
When she reached them, they were still trying to gently coax Max into letting go of Billy, but seemed to be getting nowhere. Nancy’s heart broke a little more.
“Here, let me try,” she offered.
The paramedics nodded, stepping away from Max.
“Be my guest,” one of them replied.
Nancy approached the stretcher, stomach turning a little as her gaze caught on Billy’s glassy, lifeless eyes. She quickly looked away, putting a gentle hand on Max’s back. The girl was still crying, but her tears were silent now, the energy for heavy sobs long since spent.
“Max?” she said gently. The girl continued to stare into space, eyes unfocused and unseeing. “Max, sweetheart, you need to let him go, okay?”
Nancy could feel tears pricking in her eyes as Max’s only response was the slight tightening of her fist in Billy’s tank top.
“I know; I’m sorry,” Nancy crooned, continuing to rub her back softly. “I’m so sorry. But you have to let go, okay? You have to let go so he can rest.”
Max didn’t move.
Nancy let out a heavy sigh, whispering a preliminary apology.
The second she positioned herself to lift Max, all the spark returned to the young girl’s body.
“No!!” she screamed. “No, let go!! Let go!! Billy!! Billy!!!”
She was kicking and punching, each hit agony to Nancy’s aching body as she lifted the girl up and off her brother’s corpse, but she successfully managed to get Max off of Billy, giving the paramedics a nod.
“He’s gone, Max,” Nancy said. She pulled the redhead into her chest, holding her tight even as she continued to fight her with every bit of strength she had. “I’m sorry, honey; I’m so sorry, but he’s gone.”
“No he’s not!” Max cried. “He’s not gone; he’s not! Billy! Billy!!!”
Nancy could feel tears running down her own cheeks as she held Max.
“He is, sweetie, he is,” Nancy repeated. “He’s gone. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“No, Billy! B-Billy…”
Max’s frantic cries died off into awful, painful sobs, her hand coming up to grasp Nancy’s blouse.
Nancy held her as tight as she possibly could, lowering them to the ground so that Max could be in her lap.
She rocked the girl back and forth, whispering soft condolences until her tears stopped, and she went perfectly still, completely limp in Nancy’s arms.
At first, Nancy thought she must have fallen asleep, but when she looked down, Max’s blue eyes were wide open, staring unfocused into the middle distance once more.
Nancy sighed, standing up with Max still practically draped over her. “C’mon, kiddo; let’s get you home.”
They made it almost to the car before they were stopped by an agent dressed in a full tactical suit. Ironic, considering that the actual adults put in charge of keeping Hawkins safe had done absolutely none of the work here, but that was a different discussion for a different day.
“Excuse me Miss Wheeler, Miss Mayfield,” he said, voice polite but commanding. “You can’t leave here until you sign the NDA.”
Nancy gave him an incredulous look.
“Paperwork?” she asked, appalled. “I’m trying to get a child home so that she can wash her brother’s blood off her body, and you want to keep her here to fill out paperwork??”
The agent at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic.
“It’s just one form,” he explained. “Basically you’re agreeing that as far as the public is concerned, the only thing you saw here tonight was a mall fire.”
“A mall fire,” Nancy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Of fucking course it was.”
She snatched a form and a pen from the agent, slamming it down on the hood of her car and signing it so aggressively that it wrinkled the paper. She grabbed a second one for Max, her voice instantly softening as she addressed the younger girl.
“Max? You need to sign this so we can go home.” The pen clattered onto the hood of the car as she tried to press it into Max’s hand. “Max? Please sign it?”
She pressed the pen into the girl’s hand once more.
This time, Max took it, signing her name agonizingly slowly.
As soon as she was done, Nancy gently pried the pen from her now limp fingers— which were unbelievably cold for such a warm night— and thrust the forms at the agent's chest.
“There. Happy?” she snarled.
He dipped his head. “Yes ma’am; you’re free to go.” He then turned his attention to Max. “I’m… sorry for your loss.”
Max gave a barely perceptible nod.
“C’mon,” Nancy said softly, taking Max’s hand. The younger girl’s fingers remained limp. “Let’s get you home.”
—
The care ride to Max’s house passed in agonizing silence.
Nancy briefly turned on the radio, hoping to lighten the mood as much as possible in the face of the situation they’d just come out of, but the only station that was working was blasting Neverending Story, which was quite possibly the absolute least appropriate song possible, all things considered.
So Nancy turned it off, trying her best to keep her dark thoughts at bay even with no background noise to distract her.
When they pulled into the driveway, Max tensed, looking more alert than Nancy had seen her since Billy’s death.
“Is something wrong?” Nancy asked, putting the car in park.
“No I just…” Max hesitated. “You said we were going home, so I guess I thought…”
Nancy tipped her head in confusion. “Thought what?”
Her initial thought had been to take Max to the Wheeler house, but she thought the girl might want to be with her family. Had she thought wrong?
“Nothing.” Nancy could practically hear Max’s walls snapping back into place. “Let’s just go in.”
Nancy wanted to ask her more questions— her reporter side was practically screaming at her not to leave this alone— but Max had already opened the door and was stepping out into the warm night air.
Nancy scrambled after her, wanting to stay by her side until she was sure that someone was going to take care of her.
When Max tried the door, it was locked. Hesitantly, she raised her hand to knock.
“You should go,” she said quietly over her shoulder. “I don't think you’ll want to be here for this.”
Nancy shook her head. “I’m right here with you kiddo; don’t worry.”
She made a mental note to kick Steve for adding “kiddo” into her vocabulary, but luckily, Max let it slide.
Max knocked, so quietly that Nancy was sure that nobody in the house had heard her.
Still, within seconds of the mousy little knock, the door flew open, an angry, red faced man standing on the other side, left hand gripping a mostly empty beer bottle. It was clear from the way that he was standing that he was heavily intoxicated.
Nancy recognized him from the few times she’d had to pick Max up for school when her brother fell through— her step dad, Neil, Nancy thought.
“Why are you here?” he growled.
Max flinched back, looking down at her shoes, so Nancy took the liberty of answering the question. “I brought her home. She had a rough night; I thought she’d like to sleep in her own bed.”
She gave her best charming smile, but Neil didn’t even give her a second glance. His scowling eyes remained fully trained on Max.
“This isn’t her home anymore,” he spat. “She killed my boy. I want her off my property.”
“Mr. Hargrove, I know you’ve suffered a tragedy, but Max didn’t—”
Without warning, Neil hauled off and backhanded Max across the face, so hard that it busted her lip and sent her head cracking to the left. “I said get out, bitch!”
Max reeled back, practically cowering behind Nancy as the older girl put herself firmly between Max and her stepfather.
Every cell in her body was screaming at her to tell this douchebag exactly what she thought of him, but she could feel Max practically shaking in terror behind her, and after the day she’d already had, Nancy knew she needed to deescalate the situation as quickly as possible.
“Alright, alright.” She raised her hands in a placating gesture. “There’s no need to get violent; we’re on our way out. I’m sorry for your loss.”
With that, she turned and began gently leading Max to the car. To her surprise, the redhead immediately grabbed her hand, holding onto it for dear life.
She opened the door and helped Max in, but when she turned to walk away, the younger girl tightened her grip on her hand, letting out a little whimper. She was shaking, her teeth chattering together. Nancy had been through shock enough times to recognize the telltale signs.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed. “It’s okay; I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to take us back to my house, okay?”
Max gave no sign that she’d heard, but her grip loosened enough that Nancy could pry her hand away, so she decided to just take the win.
Before getting in the driver’s seat, she opened the door to the back and pulled the blanket out from beneath the seat, wrapping it around Max’s shoulders and helping her buckle her seatbelt.
Nancy walked back around the car and climbed into the driver's seat, not bothering with buckling her own seatbelt before she threw the car in reverse and peeled down the driveway.
Max was still shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, teeth clacking together audibly. A little dribble of blood ran down her chin from her split lip.
“Hang tight, sweetheart; we’ll be at my house in just a few minutes,” Nancy reassured.
“Home?” Max mumbled, her barely audible voice filled with a childish hope that split Nancy’s heart in two.
“Yeah, honey,” Nancy sighed. “Home.”
—
Max was practically limp against her side as Nancy led her up the stairs.
She frowned as they passed Mike’s room— he still wasn’t home?— but continued to lead Max down the hall to her bathroom. Steve had said he’d look after Mike and El; he wasn’t going to let anything happen to either of them.
She led Max into her bedroom, making a brief stop by her wardrobe to grab some comfy clothes for them both before taking Max into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them with a soft click.
“I’m going to run you a bath, okay?” Nancy said. She felt like she needed to keep talking, despite the fact that Max was clearly not present at the moment. She was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be able to get through this if she didn’t keep talking to keep herself calm. “We’ve got to get this blood off of you; it’ll help you feel better.”
She closed the lid of the toilet and sat Max down, making sure the girl was holding her own balance before turning to the tub and starting the faucet, running the water over the inside of her wrist to make sure the temperature was good before stopping the drain.
She added some bubbles and epsom salt before turning back to Max.
“I’m going to stand outside the door while you get undressed,” she explained. “I need to get your clothes in the wash right away if we want to save them, so you can just hand them through the door.”
Truthfully, she had no intention of trying to save Max’s clothes— they were absolutely ruined, and she had every plan to just throw them out— but she was afraid if she had to stand here and look at Max’s crumpled, vacant expression for a single moment more, she was going to burst into tears, and that felt like the least advisable course of action at the moment.
Luckily, Max seemed to at least kind of hear her this time, because she nodded mechanically and took the pajamas Nancy was offering her, balling them up and placing them on the corner of the counter.
Nancy gave her as encouraging of a smile as she could manage, hesitantly backing towards the door. “I’ll wait for your laundry outside. And then I’ll be right down the hall, so you can call if you need me, okay?”
Max gave her another nod, and Nancy paused only a second more before exiting the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft click behind her.
A few moments later, the door reopened a small crack, Max’s bare arm peeking out with the dirty clothes in hand. Nancy took them and all but ran from the room, not even bothering to wait for the sound of the door closing behind her.
Once downstairs, she gave Max’s clothes a cursory glance, immediately recognizing that her earlier thought process was correct and tossing them in the kitchen garbage can without a second thought.
She went to the phone next, trying to decide where Steve would’ve taken the kids if not the Wheeler house. She tried Steve’s house first, but got no answer.
Her hands shaking, she willed herself not to panic and tried the cabin. No answer.
“It’s alright, Nancy, don’t freak out,” she chastised herself aloud. “You’re better than that. Just gotta keep a level head.”
Still, her fingers were trembling so badly she almost couldn’t get all the way through the number for the Byers home. Luckily— her fried nerves definitely agreed with that adjective— a familiar voice picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Steve,” Nancy sighed in relief. “Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”
“Yeah, we’re okay,” he reassured. “Everyone’s here except the Sinclairs; their parents didn’t want to let them out of their sight.”
“Hopper let El stay?”
Nancy frowned. Hopper was well known to be the most overprotective of all the parents; he hadn’t immediately taken El back to the cabin?
Steve sighed heavily, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. “You don’t know?”
Nancy’s heart dropped into her shoes. “Know what?”
“Nance…” Steve said slowly. “Hop and Joyce ran into some trouble when they were shutting down the gate. Hopper… he didn’t make it.”
The news hit Nancy like a punch to the gut. Instantly, the wheels in her head started turning. “El…?”
“Not good,” Steve sighed. “She won’t let go of Mike. Seems scared that he’s going to disappear if she lets him out of her sight.”
Nancy nodded, barely even recognizing that she was on the phone and Steve couldn’t see her. Luckily, he seemed to know. He always seemed to know.
“How’s Max?”
If Nancy was more present, she might’ve been inclined to laugh at the absurdity of the conversation. She and her ex boyfriend were apparently the concerned parents of six— seven? She was pretty sure Erica counted now, because she’d been in the bunker with Steve— horrifically traumatized children. As it was, the reality of the situation was these were their kids, and they’d all just been through something awful. They had every right in the world to be worried about them.
“She’s in shock,” Nancy relayed. “I tried to take her back to her house, but her step dad slapped her, and I decided to take her home with me. She’s in the bath now.”
Steve clicked his tongue angrily, but didn’t say anything that indicated he was surprised. To Nancy, that said a lot. To Nancy, that indicated that this was not the first time something like this had happened. She had a feeling that would make her more angry in the morning, but right now, her emotions were too high strung to handle anything else. She was already starting to slip dangerously into that numb area.
“Keep an eye on her, will ya?” Steve implored. “She has trouble talking about shit, but she’s going to need you.”
“I will,” Nancy promised. “Look out for the others, okay? I don’t know how much more of this they’ll be able to handle.”
“I’ve got them,” Steve vowed. He paused for a moment, seeming to think very carefully about his next statement. “Are you okay, Nance?”
Nancy hesitated.
“I’ve… been better,” she decided. “But it’s nothing that won’t heal. You?”
She knew he’d been through some pretty unspeakable things in the Russian bunker; in the brief time she’d seen him after the fight, he looked pretty rough.
“Eh.” She could practically hear Steve’s indifferent, macho shrug. “The commies roughed me up pretty good, but I beat ‘em in the end. No one keeps Steve Harrington down.”
Despite herself, Nancy cracked a small smile. Steve had always had that effect on her.
“Thank God for that,” she chuckled slightly.
They sat in silence for a moment, both listening to each other’s breathing and relishing in the reminder that the other was still alive.
“Hey, I gotta go check on the kids,” Steve said regretfully. “I have a feeling I’m on nightmare patrol for the next eight hours. Take care, Nance.”
“You too, Steve.”
The sound of the phone call ending nearly drove Nancy mad.
She allowed herself one moment to lean against the counter, breathing shakily in a desperate attempt to get herself under control. She was teetering right on the edge of a full breakdown, but she knew there was no time for that now. She needed to shower and get back to Max before the events of the day caught up to the younger girl as well.
Once she’d blinked all the unshed tears from her eyes and the weight on her chest felt a little more bearable, she looked down at her clothes, trying to determine their salvageability. Her jeans seemed alright, but her blouse was stained with little splotches of crimson from holding Max. It probably could be saved with a little bleach, but the sight of it made her sick to her stomach, so she shucked it off and tossed it in the bin with Max’s without a second thought.
She headed back upstairs towards Mike’s bathroom then, her vision tunneling as unwanted thoughts encroached on the sacred calm she’d been fighting to keep.
She entered the bathroom in a haze, setting her pajamas on the counter in a neatly folded pile and turning on the shower before stripping out of the rest of her clothes and stepping under the spray.
It was warm, but she barely felt it, chills running down her spine. She turned the temperature up mindlessly, oblivious to the irony of the fact that she’d recognized the signs of shock in Max immediately, but couldn’t recognize them in herself. She felt like she was a million miles away.
Unbidden, her mind flashed back to the events of earlier. The roof of the cabin practically caving in as the Mind Flayer’s tendril reached inside, absorbing Nancy’s bullets like they were nothing. Billy’s Camaro barreling towards her at full throttle. The monster hovering over El, grabbing Billy, ripping him to shreds.
God, they’d almost died. Again. Billy and Hopper did die.
A shuddering sob ripped from Nancy’s throat, and she clamped her hands over her mouth, sinking to her knees as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
She stayed like that for a long time, crying for what was, crying for what could’ve been, crying for what would never be.
Her heart broke for Hopper, for El, for Max, for what had just happened to them and for all the things that were likely to happen in the future.
She cried and cried until her chest and head ached, until all the moisture in her body was gone, until her knees protested the sensation of the hard floor.
Then, she got up. She scrubbed all the dirt and grime and blood off her body and out of her hair, stepped out of the shower, and dried herself off, checking for injuries in the mirror. Her skin was a little scalded from the hot water in the shower, and she had a few wicked bruises, but nothing that needed any tending to.
She took a few deep breaths then, willing away the dark thoughts that had overtaken her just moments before. She felt a little callous just standing up and moving on, but she knew she had to. Tonight was awful, but it was nothing new. It was nothing like losing Barb. She’d gotten through that, and she’d get through this. It would just take time. She had plenty of that eventually, but now? Now there was a 14 year old girl upstairs who’d just suffered an unfathomable loss, and she needed Nancy’s help. She couldn’t fall apart anymore right now.
Once she was one hundred percent sure that she was calmed down, she slipped into her pajamas, leaving her jeans crumpled on the floor. She’d deal with them later.
With one last deep breath to steady her nerves, she exited Mike’s bathroom and headed down the hallway towards her own.
Max was still inside with the door closed, but the room was silent. Nancy knocked quietly. “Max? Are you okay?”
There was no response. Nancy’s heart rate picked up, but she forced herself to stay calm. She’d fought monsters, for god’s sake. She could handle a grieving teenage girl.
She knocked again. “Max? I need you to say something so I know you’re alright.”
Still nothing.
“Max?” Nancy attempted. When the girl didn’t reply after an additional twenty seconds, she decided something needed to be done. “I’m coming in.”
She opened the door slowly in case Max wanted to stop her, but the redhead didn’t protest, so Nancy entered all the way.
Max was sitting in the tub, knees pulled up to her chest, staring off at some fixed point in the middle distance. She gave no indication that she was aware that Nancy had entered the room. Nancy knelt by the tub and gently grabbed Max’s shoulder.
“Max? Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
Nancy sighed, racking her brain for a plan of action. She had read about this phenomenon in a journal article a few months back; what were the techniques it had suggested?
“Max? I need you to look at me.”
The girl didn’t respond, so Nancy gave her shoulder a firm squeeze. Not painful, but solid. Real. It was enough to get Max to drag her gaze over to Nancy’s face, eyes still hazy and unfocused. Still, it was better than nothing.
“There you are,” she smiled. She moved her grip from Max’s shoulder to her hand. “Can you squeeze my hand?”
It took a moment, and it was light, but Max did give her hand a tiny squeeze.
“Good! That’s good,” Nancy praised. “Can you tell me where you are?”
Max looked around, her eyes becoming more alert and focused.
“Your house?” she guessed quietly.
“Yeah, my house,” Nancy affirmed. “Do you know what today’s date is?”
“It’s umm… the fourth. July 4th, 1985,” Max recited. Her gaze cleared, the blank expression replaced by one of absolutely devastating sadness. “Billy died today.”
Nancy’s heart ached. “Yeah, baby. He did. I’m so sorry.”
Max nodded, then fell silent. Nancy thought about prodding her into answering more questions, but the girl didn’t look absent, she just looked sad, so Nancy decided to leave it alone.
“Do you need anything else?” Nancy asked softly.
Max hesitated, opening her mouth as if to speak, then promptly closed it and shook her head.
Nancy arched an eyebrow at her.
“Are you sure?” she pressed.
“It’s stupid,” Max hedged, averting her gaze.
“I’m sure it’s not,” Nancy soothed. “Whatever it is, I’m happy to do it for you.”
Max bit her lip, seeming to mull the idea over in her mind. Finally, something broke, a vulnerable expression slipping over her face.
“Will you help me wash my hair?” she asked softly. “It’s something Mom used to do before… before Neil, and I… sometimes it helped. I dunno.”
She turned crimson all the way out to her ears, looking down at her knees as though that could make the words she’d just said disappear.
Nancy didn’t comment on it.
Instead, she stood, wordlessly unhooking the shower head from the wall and bringing it down with her.
“Tip your head back a little,” she instructed gently. “I don't want to get water in your eyes.”
Max did as she said, and Nancy gently washed her hair, shampooing and rinsing it till the last streaks of mottled brown blood were washed away and its natural color shown through, diluted from the water. She did not fail to notice that the process seemed to have relaxed Max immensely. And if she noticed the glisten of silent tears rolling down Max’s cheeks as well, she didn’t comment on it.
“There. All clean,” she said proudly.
Max looked up at her sheepishly. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” Nancy replied. “Tell you what. I’ll step outside so you can finish washing up and get dressed, and then I’ll brush your hair out for you, okay?”
Max gave her a small, grateful smile and nodded.
Nancy stood, her sore body protesting immensely, and slipped out of the bathroom. While she waited for Max, she gathered up a brush and some elastic hair ties from her vanity, then sat on the edge of her bed to wait, legs crossed politely.
When Max finally emerged, she was dressed in Nancy’s far-too-big flannel pajama pants and her favorite Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. Her eyes were red and puffy from tears, and there were still more tracing tracks down her cheeks, but she was alert and present, which was still an improvement in Nancy’s eyes.
Nancy tucked her legs up beneath her and patted the bed beside her. “Come sit.”
They sat in silence as Nancy brushed and braided Max’s hair, taking more time with it than was strictly necessary because she could tell it was calming the girl down.
When all was said and done, she held open the covers of her bed for Max, then crawled in after her. She didn’t even suggest sleeping on the floor; she knew there was no way the redhead would want to be alone in any capacity right now.
“Lights on or off?” Nancy asked.
“On.”
“Okay.” Nancy reached out and gave Max’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Good night, Max.”
“G’night, Nance.”
Max fell asleep almost immediately, completely exhausted from the day’s emotional events. Nancy lay on her side for a while, but did not fall asleep. She rolled onto her back and listened to the sounds of Max’s deep breathing. She knew she should get some sleep, but she had a sinking feeling that Max was going to need her again soon.
Sure enough, within about an hour of them going to bed, Max let out a little whimper. Nancy rolled onto her side to face her, propping her head up on her arm to watch the girl for further signs of distress.
Max jerked a little bit, whimpering again. Her legs kicked at the sheets, and her head tossed to one side.
“No,” she mumbled. “No!”
She tossed again, flipping her head the other way. “El… El…”
Nancy reached out to her, but Max flailed violently, knocking the older girl’s arm away. “Billy don’t… Billy… no… Billy…”
Nancy’s heart broke a little in her chest.
“Max, you need to wake up,” she coaxed gently. “You’re having a bad dream; you need to wake up.”
Max didn’t respond. Her violent flailing persisted.
Heedless, Nancy reached out and shook Max’s shoulder. “Wake up honey.”
“BILLY!!”
Max shot bolt upright in the bed, chest heaving as she looked around with wild eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Nancy attempted, squeezing Max’s shoulder.
Max’s head whipped towards her, recognition appearing in her eyes, followed immediately by tears. She let out a strangled sob, both hands coming up to cover her mouth as the tears began to pour down her cheeks once more.
Nancy immediately pulled her close, laying them down on the bed so that she could snuggle Max as tightly as humanly possible.
“It’s okay,” Nancy breathed, rubbing soothing circles on the younger girl’s back as she sobbed into her shoulder. “You’re okay. You’re safe now; I got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Nancy knew that they’d have to talk about the way Max was feeling eventually— from what she understood and what she had seen from occasionally playing taxi driver, Billy had never been particularly kind to the girl, so she couldn’t really understand Max’s reaction without help— but for now, she just held the redhead until her sobs died down into fretful whimpers. Nancy pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head, thumb still rubbing between her shoulder blades.
“Try to go back to sleep,” she coaxed. “I’ll look out for you. You’re safe.”
Eventually, Max drifted off. Nancy thought about trying to stay awake in case she was needed again, but she found she could not fight the increasing heaviness of her own eyelids. Besides: Max was still cuddled up against her side. If something was wrong, she would know.
“Good night, Max,” she breathed softly. “I’m so sorry.”
With that, Nancy burrowed a little further into the blankets and followed Max down the rabbit hole into the blissful release of sleep.