𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ²

012

▬ 012. 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚 𝑖𝑠, 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑜𝑛?

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓." Nancy ordered with her usual in-charge tone of voice, as she stood in the doorway of said-basement.

Her big blue eyes darted between Lori and Steve, serious and unblinking. It was quite the funny sight, really, if a stranger could've been watching from the sidelines— to see two teenage girls, dressed in Sunday brunch clothing standing by the door, and two other teenagers, dressed relatively normal, standing at their feet taking orders. Robin stood behind Nancy, but splayed herself along the doorframe in boredom and displeasure, a hand reaching up every five seconds to yank at the collared shirt around her neck. She groaned and complained at frequent intervals, too. This set-up really displayed the contrast between Nancy and Robin and everyone could see it— the pair in front of them, and the kids scattered behind them in the basement.

Lori and Steve stood in front of Nancy, a considerable two feet apart from one another. Both had their arms crossed. Both tried not to look over at one another as Nancy laid out the plan, the rules, the emergency protocols. Lori was listening intently, or at least made it seem like she was listening intently so she could keep herself from looking at Steve— or registering his presence beside her at all. And Steve was listening, taking in all of the rules and protocols because he liked to be safe— but he was having a hard time trying not to glance at Lori, see her expression and demeanor, between the gaps of Nancy's speech. He swayed a little bit on his feet and his mouth was stitched into this serious, tight-lipped expression, eyebrows knitted with concern. Lori could feel him swaying, but she just gripped harder onto the sides of her arms and kept a solid stance, face hard with a barricade to her real emotions.

The plan was simple: Nancy and Robin were to travel to Pennhurst, Lori and Steve were to babysit the kids at the Wheelers'. They would use the walkie-talkies to communicate, the girls would get information about Victor Creel, and the rest of the gang would sit tight for the time being. It was an easy task— sitting tight. Making sure nobody came for Max, making sure she was safe, making sure she didn't venture out where this Vecna creep could sweep her up. It was simple. And all Lori had to do was sit in the basement, avoid Steve, hangout with Dustin in these trying times, and wait for the girls to return. She knew what she had to do, what she was supposed to do, what would keep everyone safe. But she was also keenly aware of Max's sedentary position at the desk in the corner of the room, which led Lori to believe Max was up to something... something that could put the plan in jeopardy.

"Who knows what could happen if that creep gets his hands on her again," Nancy's voice fell quiet and concerned now, and for the first time during her whole speech, she broke her serious eye contact with Lori and Steve to look towards the corner of the room. To Max.

"Oh my god, what are these clothes made out of? Sandpaper?" Robin grumbled from the door, fingers aggressively itching the skin at her neck. "Feels like I'm a goddamn piece of sandpaper, that's what this feels like."

It took everything in Nancy to not roll her eyes, evident in the way she paused and tensed for a quick moment, lips forming into a very tight line before continuing. "So, stay in here. At all costs." she regained most of her punctured composure, "Okay?"

Lori nodded once firmly, and Steve followed suit— nodding once. Both of their faces remained utterly serious, completely focused. Crazy how a facial expression can mask the chaos of screaming emotions.