ｒｅｓｔａｒｔ (st)

024: ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀꜱꜱᴀᴄʀᴇ ᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴡᴋɪɴꜱ ʟᴀʙ

this chapter is pretty gory, if youre uncomfortable with descriptions of death and blood, stop reading at the fourth page breaker (----✬---- this thing) ! 

It was all too familiar for Jordans liking. A bright red Coke can sat on the table in front of her, completely still, despite all her efforts to just crush the damn thing.

Jordan felt as if she was eight years old again, sitting in the white brick walls of a similar testing room, cold steel underneath her and her hands as she stared down a soda can with tremendous effort. History seemed to enjoy repeating itself like it was a sick joke that she never found funny.

Maybe it was tied to the fact that her mind couldn't seem to focus on the soda can, and could only replay the images of the dead, bloodied bodies of her once brothers and sisters.

With a final, shuddering gasp, her body jerked forward slightly. Jordan expected to see the can crushed into a disk, but her face fell at the sight of it. Bright red, standing tall and completely still, almost mockingly in front of her face.

The sound of a similar gasp for effort to her left told her that El was experiencing the same obstacles.

Jordan could very faintly hear the frantic conversation between Papa and Owens, but she could not bring herself to eavesdrop like she normally would have. Her eyes stayed trained on the can, straining from the amount of intensity her stare held.

Jordans muscles tensed, and she held her breath as she focused harder on the can. A simple nudge of the can, a dent, a flex in her brain would have been enough to satisfy the small seed of doubt in the back of her mind. But life was never on her side, she thought. The Coke can stood still.

Jordans efforts to catch her breath took a turn. Deep breaths turned into hyperventilations, still hands on a cold table turned to shaking fingers. The wires on her head were too itchy, the clothes on her body too hot, too restricting. Blood rushed in Jordans ears, her heart pounded, and the conversation outside the room was getting louder, louder, louder.

Why was everything so loud ?

Jordan faintly felt the hand that her sister put on her arm, the words of concern El let out fell on deaf ears. Jordan ripped the red and white wires off of her buzzed head, the prickles of short hair feeling like sandpaper as they brushed her skin. She stood abruptly, metal chair scraping the tiles as she ran forward, pushing the door open with all her might. The door felt heavier as her body weakened, the act of running turning her legs to jelly.

She could hear shouts from Papa, Owens, and other doctors and scientists that she had passed, but she couldn't focus on one voice when all of them mixed together, thrumming inside of her head.

Jordan finally collapsed on the floor when she reached the room that her and El were given to share. She fell to her knees, hands grasping the floor as she gasped for air. Tears welled in her eyes, yet the only thing that came out were dry sobs.

...ay...

Their efforts were futile. The twins powers were not coming back, and Jordan doubted they would ever. They told her Hawkins was in danger. She could only think of Max, Dustin, and Lucas. She thought of Nancy, Steve, and Robin. Of Lucas' little sister Erica, who is so young, she's so young, how am I going to save her?

...Jay...

Max would die. The Party would die. Everyone in Hawkins would die and it would be her fault. 

The sweat built up on her forehead as the room spun. Slowly, she could feel her throat tighten up. The air felt as if it was getting thinner, and she clawed at her throat, trying to get as much air as she could through her constricted airway as tears fell down her flushed cheeks.