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[ 1985. July]
SITTING ON THE EDGE OF THE BACK OF AN AMBULANCE, MJ is wrapped up in a trauma blanket. Steve is standing just a few inches away, close enough so that her head can rest on his chest. She cries softly and he runs his hand trough her hair, trying to assure her that everything will be okay. And maybe they will be, eventually, but it doesn't feel like it. Lucas is busy comforting Max nearby. MJ looks at them, feeling even worse for her because she's so young. Max should not know this loss at that age.
The world has changed for Mary-Jane. Significantly so. Nothing feels right. A pair of paramedics roll by with the stretcher, a black body bag upon it and she knows well that it's Billy. He's the only casualty tonight, as far as MJ knows. She watches them load him up into the back of a hearse. It doesn't feel real. Her head is so behind and everything around her is spinning, this feels much like a dream.
Breath hitching in her throat, she looks around at the chaos. The place is crowded with people, ambulances, firefighters, helicopters and the calvary having stormed the place. The kids are scattered, comforting each other or trying to calm their parents down. She wonders how they're going to cover this up. She'll always know the truth, either way. Robin will have questions, in time. She'll take a step back and help MJ grief, but she'll still wonder about the Russians. She's going to have to lie, of course, to protect her best friend.
The day has not hit her with enough grief, apparently, as she finds out that Hopper was also lost during the closing of the gate. Her heart is heavy with sorrow. His body cannot he found, but he's dead nonetheless and Eleven is alone. Joyce brings her into a smothering hug, crying softly into her hair.
Steve drives them home. They cannot stay any longer. The place is riddled with death and carnation and misery. Mary-Jane doesn't know how she'll ever sleep normally again, how her life is going to be without him. It's not a secret that as the years passed, they grew apart. But siblings, particularly twins have a connection. She loved him nonetheless. She never hated him, never despised him. Those were momentary things, moments in which she felt anger toward him but there was always love. Love for the brother who looked out for her until his very death. He loved her back, of course, they just had a strange way of showing it.
Max is the first to get out of the car. She runs inside, tears falling down her cheeks. Mary-Jane looks down at her blood-stained hands. "You should go home, Steve." She says regrettably, knowing it would be the best for both of them.
Steve turns to her, eyebrows drawn together in worry. "Are you sure you don't-"
"I need to be with Max, and I need to find a way to explain this to my dad and I... I need some time alone." She cries, hands trembling and lips quivering. She looks out the window, unable to face him at this moment.
