[ 018 ] feels like drowning

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CHAPTER EIGHTEENXVIII

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
XVIII.      feels like drowning
[ season 2, episode 9 ]



























          "All right, Wheeler. I think we've found your Hub."

The narrow tunnel had dipped into a cavern, harshly illuminated by pockets of ashen light in the congealed walls. Steph propped the flashlight between her teeth — ignoring the warmth radiating from the ecstatic bulb — and flipped the cap off of the gasoline canister. Their main aim was clear here. Douse the so-called Hub, soaking the Mind Flayer's mind with flammable liquid, only to set it alight in the coming seconds. Flames would pour into the Upside Down, putting an end to the eternal misery, freeing Eleven and the town of Hawkins from the monsters' unrelenting grasp.

Or . . . so they hoped.

An unlikely pair, Max and Steph worked together. They passed the canister of gasoline between themselves, drenching the Hub with purpose. A gnarled vine scuttled away from the layer of gasoline, sinking into the darkness of the nearby tunnels diverging from each end of the cavern.

"Do you think this will work?" Max implored softly. Her inquisitive words were muffled by the bandana wrapped around the lower half of her face, but the apprehensive glimmer in her eyes spoke a thousand words.

Tenderly, Steph placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder. It was a strange sensation, comforting people. She was usually the one being comforted, despite how much she hated the pity and the sympathy and the gentleness that people approached her with, like she was sculpted from paper-thin glass, poised to shatter at any slight provocation. Oddly enough, reaching out to other people felt . . . nice. Fulfilling. Rare enough an obligation to meet, Steph had never known what to say to those with tear-brimmed eyes and pouted lips. But this — it came naturally.

Perhaps Steph was spending far too much time with Steve Harrington, a true sweetheart, through and through.

"You kids are smart," Steph assured, referring to their collective idea of dousing the Hub in gasoline. Noticeably, her voice had softened considerably from it's typical drawl, the razor-sharp edges planed down to harmless fragments. She gazed upon Max with newfound warmth, "Of course it'll work."

"I hope so." Max murmured. She looked slightly uncomfortable by the tenderness of their interaction, so Steph quickly removed her hand, opting to ruffle the girl's unkempt red-locks instead.

Lucia made her appearance then, casually slinging an arm around Max's shoulders. Even in the shadows, Steph was able to decipher a peony-pink tint inching its way up Max's throat, materialising in the apples of her cheeks. She averted her gaze to the vine-speckled ground, pressing the tip of her shoe against a mound of solidified slime. There was a certain expression upon Max's face — contorted into a faint grimace as she picked at the stubborn thread hanging from her jacket sleeve — that made Steph consider the deeper meaning behind her unprecedented blushing. Not embarrassment. She didn't want to press or make her avid curiosity obvious, however, and looked off into the distance, watching Steve and Dustin squabble over a flashlight with two batteries over another with just one.

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