xi . watergate

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chapter xi .
watergate

                          THE FIRST THING SHE HEARD WAS HER OWN RAGGED BREATHING. Her lungs felt like they had been turned inside out and purged of any oxygen. She coughed, choking and rasping for breath. Her balance succumbed to the pain and she hit the ground—her back took the impact. She was sore and battered and broken, but she was pretty sure she was alive, if the four heads looking down on her were any indication.

She was bombarded with a tight embrace from something heavy that had lots of hair—which she quickly realized was Eddie, and it didn't take her long to return the embrace.

He was practically sobbing into her hair, holding every part of her as tight as he could. "God, Val, please don't ever leave again—"

"I'm here," she panted, gripping his arms and exhaling a heavy breath into his chest. "I–I'm still here, Eddie. I won't. I won't leave you."

     Somewhere off to the side, she registered someone who sounded a lot like her foster brother shouting in a very alarmed way and demanding for someone to tell him what the hell was going on. Val moved her head off Eddie's shoulder to see past him; behind Nancy was, in fact, Mason Anderson, holding a baseball bat and screaming for the rest of their attention. His neck was straining from all the shouting he was doing.

     Val swallowed, her brow furrowing—but she quickly relaxed it and winced at the pain it brought. She lifted a hand to her head and felt around for all the injuries she'd sustained from her father. The oddest part was: She was fine. Physically, at least. On the inside, all of her injuries and bruises ached and stung like they were still there, but when she stood frantically and checked herself in the mirror of her car, she was completely unharmed.

"Val, holy shit," Steve was saying as she lifted her shirt to check her gut for any signs of bleeding or bruising. She pretended to ignore the way Eddie swallowed and averted his gaze. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not worried about me right now," she croaked, dropping her shirt and storming over to Mason's distressed frame. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and balled up the fabric in her fists—ignoring the shouts of alarm from everybody behind her. "What—the—hell—are you doing here?"

     Mason swallowed, panting from his intense shouting. "I came back to—to see if you were still here—"

"Why?" Val demanded furiously. "It's not safe!"

"Then why are you here?" Mason yelled, pushing himself away from her. He gestured at the rest of them with his baseball bat. "Y-you know these guys aren't the right type of people, Val—you know what that freak did to Chrissy—"

Val shoved his shoulders to get him to shut up. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Mason, I swear to God—"

"Mason, she's right," Nancy said, stepping forward to give Val a hand. "You need to leave."

"Wheeler?" Mason asked, his voice at the quietest it had been since he arrived. His eyes glanced around as he finally took a moment to notice who Val was with. His attention landed on Steve, and his eyes widened comically. "Holy shit; what the—"

"Mason!" Val shouted, demanding his attention. "Get the fuck out of here, right now!"

     "It's too late, Val," Steve pointed out. He approached Mason cautiously. "Look, we don't have time to explain everything that's going on right now; but if you go find Max, Henderson, Lucas—"

     "What, Sinclair?" Mason's face contorted. "This is what he ditched us for? He's with you?"

     "We can't fucking explain right now!" Val yelled. "They're on the south side of the lake. Go find them, tell them we sent you, and they can explain it all. If you want to be involved, this is the best way you can be. We have shit to do. Go, Mason!"

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