The Long Game━ (l. sinclair)

glock in my lap

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The five Party members and Corey were left behind from all the action, sitting in the bleachers of the middle school's gymnasium. Hopper and Joyce had left to go to the Gate (although Sam highly doubted they'd even be able to get into the first fence without being shot down), and Nancy and Jonathan were ordered to stay back and make sure the kids stay (mostly because Sam had tried leaving Hopper and Joyce, fighting hard with the chief on it). The two teenagers were not in the gym, but presumably in the gym's entrance.

Dustin, Mike, and Eleven sat on the first row — with Eleven tiredly resting her head on Mike's shoulder — Sam and Lucas on the second, and Corey by himself, per usual, on the third.

Not one of the kids were at easy hearts right now, all stressed out about everything that could be happening right now. Or, at least, Sam was. Will could be dead, Hopper could be dead, Joyce could be dead, Barbara was dead, maybe the Bad Men had arrived and even Nancy and Jonathan were dead—

Okay, so a lot of people could be dead, and Sam needed to calm the hell down.

Sam glanced behind herself anxiously, feeling uncomfortable with having Corey behind her; knowing he could be staring at her, judging her, and she couldn't do anything about it. But he was zoned out, eyes trained on nothing in particular. Sam sighed a how anxious she could really get; she turned back to face the front, elbows on her knees impatiently.

Lucas leaned into Sam, whispering into her hear, "So... Corey?"

Sam turned her head, face close to Lucas's. She didn't risk turning her head back again, but side-eyed her cousin to see he hadn't moved in the past few seconds. Sam locked eyes with Lucas.

"Yeah," she breathed. "I mean, I guess. I don't know."

Lucas frowned at the uncomfortable look on Sam's voice. He kept his voice low, said, "It's weird."

What was weird — the fact Corey was here, that he was being civil, that he wasn't beating anyone up, that he wasn't vandalizing property, that he and Sam weren't stuck in a screaming match — Lucas didn't specify, but they all were viable prospects. Sam agreed with all of the unspoken options.

"It is," Sam agreed, because she didn't really know what else to say.

Lucas asked, "Are you okay?"

Sam huffed, because that question had a lot of weight to it. She stared out, contemplating, before glancing at Lucas again. "Ask me tomorrow?"

"Well," Lucas started, sounding like a fucking nerd. He checked his watch for moment, then said, "This day's almost over, so I guess I'll be asking you in about—"

"Oh, my god," Sam barked out a laugh, nudging Lucas in the shoulder with her own. "Shut up, you nerd."

Lucas couldn't even be offended at the insult. He was letting Sam shove him, smiling back at her.

Mike abruptly shot up from the bleachers, running out of the gym. The remaining kids shared confused looks, wondering where Mike had gone off to. However, that answer came soon because a few minutes later, he entered the gym again. When he reached the rest of them, Sam noted a distressed look on his face.