A/N: I'M SORRY. I'M SO SO SORRY. But honestly, I don't think I've ever gotten this many comments on a chapter. And I'm a Slytherin, so what did you expect? :P I wasn't going to update for a few more days, but you all displayed such anguish that I took pity on you, so here is the second half of that ~drama~

If you enjoyed this sort of pain, stay tuned for my next story, which is a very dark Mileven fic in which Elle never escapes and Mike is an aged up (by like, 3 years) prodigy who takes a job at Hawkins National Laboratory. Sadness and madness ensues.

#prayforelle2k17

The blonde man yanked Elle's skirt down roughly.

"Pink panties. Cute." He chuckled soullessly.

"Think she's been fucked before Larry?" The brunette asked.

"Nah. Look at her. Pretty little thing had probably never even said damn."

"Stop." Elle tried to bat his hand away as it reached for her underwear.

"I'll stop when I want to stop, bitch. Answer Joel's question. Have you ever had a dick in this sweet little cunt of yours?" With that he pulled down her panties, leaving her exposed to the two of them.

"Stop it! Stop!" Elle shrieked. She struggled against Joel's grip fruitlessly as Larry's hand reached towards her and savagely pinched her pussy.

"No! Stop!" Elle started to cry.

"Elle? Are you in-" Abigail opened the door and stared at the scene in shock.

"Fucker." Joel breathed.

Abigail was on him in a second, shoving him away from Elle and punching him in the gut.

"Help!" She yelled as she tussled with the two men. "Amy! Megan!" Elle fell to the ground. She sobbed in relief before grabbing and quickly slipping on her panties.

Amy and Megan appeared in the doorway.

"What the hell?" Megan breathed. Amy jumped in and started whacking one of the men and her friend quickly joined her.

Within a few minutes, the two would-be rapists were lying on the ground unconscious.

"Oh Elle." Abigail wrapped her friend in a hug as the two cried together, rocking back and forth. "I'm so sorry. Let's get you home."

The girls snuck out of the party quietly, Elle with a blanket over her shoulders and her friends around her. She didn't speak until they were in Abi's car.

"Mike." She whispered.

"Mike will be fine." Amy stated. "You're our main concern right now."

"Yes," Megan agreed. "How are you?"

Elle shrugged, lip trembling. She could still feel their hands on her, filthy and wrong.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you run off like that." Abigail apologized to Elle.

"You save me." Elle tried to console her friend despite the strange pain she felt in her chest.

"Not soon enough." Abigail choked. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Elle? What are you doing home so soon? I hadn't expected you for at least an hour?" Joyce stared at her daughter in surprise. Elle's mascara had all run below her eyes, a purple bruise mottled her cheek, her normally carefully brushed hair was tousled and knotted around her head, and instead of the cute denim skirt and jacket combo she had worn, an old blanket rested around her shoulders.

Her friends had tried to insist on escorting her inside, but she had refused to allow it. She just wanted to sleep. To block out all the intrusive thoughts and pain that was flooding her right now.

"Oh my god." Joyce handed the baby to Hopper. "Jim, go put Anna to bed."

"What the hell happened?" He growled. "Do I need to arrest that Wheeler boy?"

"Not Mike." Elle shook her head.

"Jim. Take care of the baby." The couple locked eyes for a second before Jim obeyed. He saw a glimpse of the intensity that had taken over her when Will had gone. This was a woman who would do anything for her children.

"Elle baby. What happened to you?"

Elle's defenses broke down in an instant.

"Mommy." She sobbed, collapsing into her mother's firm embrace. The blanket slid off her shoulders and Joyce gasped when she saw the only thing her daughter had on was a tee shirt and a torn pair of pink panties.

It had happened. The thing every mother feared for her daughter. What Joyce had hoped Elle would never have to encounter. After years spent with some of the worst of the best, her life outside the lab would still have to include the worst of the worst.

"Did they… did they…what did they do Elle?"

"They…They… he touched me mommy. He pinched my… he hit me." Elle gasped out.

"Oh baby. Do you want to take a shower?"

Elle nodded, rubbing at her eyes. She felt unspeakably dirty.

As Elle scrubbed away at her flesh, trying to rid herself of the men, Joyce bustled about the kitchen. She could cry later. Now, she would make her hurt child her favorite chocolate cake, fresh muffins, and hot tea. She was no Karen Wheeler, but she could bake pretty well when she set her mind to it.

"Mom?" Will entered the room, a scared look on his face. "Why is Elle crying in the bathroom? And why are you… baking?"

"Will." Joyce encased her son in a hug, disregarding the coco powder on her nose, and the blueberry stuck in her hair.

"Your sister. Elle. Some bad men at that party… they tried to rape her." Joyce wiped at her eyes.

Will stared at her, stunned. "Did they?"

"No, I don't think so. But they… touched her. And she has an awful bruise on her face." Joyce sniffled. "Want to help me bake?" She tried to smile at her youngest.

"No." Will turned and left the kitchen. Joyce tried not to think of what his reaction might mean.

Elle sat at the table quietly, dressed in her thickest, longest flannel pajamas.

"Here sweetie." Joyce set a steaming mug in front of her. "It'll make you feel better."

"Thanks." Elle whispered, gulping down the hot liquid. Maybe it would melt the peculiar lump in her throat.

"I made cake and muffins!" Joyce chirped, setting a heaping plate in front of her.

"I just… wanna sleep." Elle murmured.

"Of course, of course. Do you want me to come with you? Do you need a nightlight?"

"No." Elle murmured, leaving the table. She shuffled to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She curled up on the bed, holding close a stuffed bear Mike had won for her at this tacky state fair thing. Elle felt empty, hollowed out. Just like the lab. Elle smiled a dead smile at nothing in particular.