Daisies || Max Mayfield

64: Broken

Steve glared at Max's hand, which she had set on her knee. We were sitting on the couch, Steve pacing in the middle of the room. Dustin was following him, throwing his hands up with every few things he said. Lucas was passed out in the armchair, drooling on his shirt. Robin was laying across the other armchair while Nancy was on the other couch, one she and Steve had dragged over.

"I mean, what do we even know about Vecna?" Dustin muttered. "He's big, and has a ton of tentacles. He's a villain too. And he got the Creel family all the way back in the 50s! How are we even supposed to learn anything about him if Victor Creel didn't know anything either?"

"Maybe he's just a normal guy underneath all that," Robin added. "Maybe he's got a tragic backstory, like all of us."

"Bet you cracked the case." Dustin continued.

"Quiet, please," Steve said, taking a seat on the floor in front of me and Max. He pointed to Max's hand, the joints all a dark purple now. Half her fingers were bent back, stuck in place. The rest were bent forward and backward, in ways they definitely shouldn't be.

"Are we gonna have to break them back in place?" Robin whispered. "'Cause I saw that one movie about the girl, and they had to snap her arm back in place-"

"Robin!" Steve warned.

"Sorry. Sorry." She nodded. 

Max was pale, staring at her hand. All her knuckles were deep purple, and it was traveling down her wrist. "I don't really want anyone messing with it more, please."

"If it helps sometimes they're good at fixing broken shit." I supplied. "You know, like when someone decides to put a tourniquet on your hand because you got impaled..."

Max snickered, covering her mouth with her free hand. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yeah." I held up my hand, the scar on it still large and deep red. "The impalement of '84."

"That was really dumb," Max said, laughing.

I smirked. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"Yeah, and Max isn't," Steve announced. "Now be quiet while I think about how to fix this."

"Please don't break it more, it really hurts," Max muttered.

"Max, it's cutting off the circulation at the end of your fingers." He pointed out, nodding to them. The tips of her fingers were turning blue and purple as he'd said. "If we don't do something about it, your fingers are gonna fall off or something."

She chewed her lip, frowning. "Can't I just like, leave it for later?"

"They're gonna swell more than they already have."

"You should really be icing that," Nancy added from the couch. She was writing in her notebook.

"You live here, can you get some?" I asked.

"Daisy that's rude."

"Shut up Steve." Whether or not I was rude, Nancy still got up, running up the stairs to get ice.

He scoffed. "Look, Max, it's gonna hurt, but it'll be better in the long run." 

"How do I know I'll even have a long run?" She muttered. "I almost died today."

"Max, it's gonna be fine," I said. "You're not gonna die. We didn't let you die before, and we won't let you now."

"We promise," Dustin added.

Max groaned, staring at her hand. In the few minutes we'd spent talking, her had was already looking worse. "Do it."

"You sure?" I glanced at her, her eyes squeezed shut.