Steve was getting tired of waking up in rooms painted white. Nothing good came out of it, and it just reminded him how hopeless everything was.
The room that he was in now was empty save a medical bed that was like a dentist chair, raised above the ground, fitted with restraints, and a table covered in medical tools that reminded Steve too much of the Russian base. He was just happy that he wasn't stuck in the chair, at least not yet.
The room was cold, and the jacket Hopper had given him was gone. All of Steve's clothes were also gone, replaced with a medical gown that Steve hated. His legs, feet, and arms were bare. Reaching up, Steve was shocked to see that all of his hair was still there. He wondered how long it would take for Brenner to cut it off.
Steve wasn't as stupid as many thought that he was. He knew that Brenner was going to study him.
There was no doubt in his mind now. Brenner didn't know that Steve could heal others, despite all of the times that he could've learned about it. That meant that he would want to know why. Why could Steve heal others? How could he use that knowledge to pass the trait onto others? What else was Steve hiding? How much could Brenner learn from him?
Steve hated it. He just wanted to run far from here. He didn't want to get hurt again.
He wondered if El and Hopper had managed to get away themselves, if they were hurt, or if they were free. He hoped that they were free, they had been hurt by Brenner for long enough.
He didn't know how long he had to wait until someone walked through the door, and as soon as the latch opened, Steve bolted to his feet, ready to fight his way out.
Yet, his heart dropped into his stomach when multiple people walked in, some of whom were carrying guns.
It looked like he couldn't escape yet.
Brenner walked in, and was again trailed by guards with guns, but this time there were a few people in lab coats who hustled in after them.
"Nineteen. It's good to see that you're awake."
Steve made his hands into fists. "I know what you're trying to do. It's not going to work."
"I would think that you would be eager to learn, Nineteen. Your body may contain the secrets to a long life. To heal others. To cure cancer. Don't you want to discover what it is that makes you special so we can help others?"
Steve waited a moment before responding. "There's a better way to do that. I know you're going to hurt me."
"We are going to do what we must. Guards, get him in the chair."
Steve cried out as the two men rushed for him, grabbing his arms, and he kicked out, thrashing in their grip as they dragged him over to the chair. Despite his effort to escape, the guards managed to strap him into the chair effortlessly, and Steve screamed, wanting, needing to escape. He didn't want to go through this again. He just wanted to be free.
"Don't move, Nineteen."
"You don't get to tell me what to do!" Steve replied, and someone slapped him across the face, causing him to cry out in pain. He could feel a needle sliding into his left arm, and then another on his right, like chains tethering him to pain.
A gun was pointed at his head, and Steve knew that he had to stop struggling, so he did. He didn't know if Brenner would order them to shoot, after all, Steve wouldn't be any use to them dead, right?
But, he still didn't want to risk it. He had to get home. He promised Dustin that he would be okay. He promised himself that he would get back to them. So, he had to comply, no matter how badly it hurt to do so. But it killed him to stop struggling. To stop fighting. To give up.
"We're just going to take some blood Nineteen, and then we'll conduct some scans. It will be a long process, but it will be worth it in the long run, I promise. Think of all that we could do."
Steve forced himself to stay silent, knowing that whatever he would say would get him hurt.
He glanced around, noticing two bags hanging above his arms, slowly filling with blood through the needles in his arms. Two bags seemed like a lot of blood.
Steve couldn't help feeling more scared than before. He was going to lose too much blood.
What would that do to him? Was it going to hurt?
"And, when we're done with those two," Brenner explained evenly, "we'll attach two more, and then one more after that. We need to make sure that we have enough samples for all of the tests that we could run."
He felt like he was going to puke at the words. Instinctively he fought against the bonds, but the gun above him got closer, so he stopped.
He was so scared. He wanted to cry.
But he had to make it. He had to get out of here. For Robin. For Dustin. For all of his family.
"Sir," One of the women in lab coats said, glancing down at Steve with something close to concern, but it looked like it was a distant concern, a concern for a subject, and not for a human. The thought made him shiver. "That's too much blood, even two bags is excessive. It may hurt him, cause him to fall into hypovolemic shock or worse."
"We need at least five bags. Get them. No questions asked."
Steve couldn't help it. Tears began leaking out of his eyes, slowly and painfully, but he didn't make a sound.
"Stay still, Nineteen. It'll be over soon."
Steve didn't reply. He couldn't find any words to say.
Brenner left the room, leaving his guards and the doctors around him. A gun was still held to his head, while the others bustled around the room, reading charts, checking the bags, and Steve forced himself to stay calm. Keep breathing.
At one point, the bags were switched out, and Steve didn't notice. All he saw was the bag go from full to empty, the liquid giving him life being drained out of his body slowly but surely.
Over time, he began to feel tired. Lightheaded. The room swam around him, and no matter how often he inhaled he couldn't seem to get enough air. Sweat began coating his skin, making him shiver even more, but no one commented on it.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but he soon felt hands take out the needles in his arms, careful and sure. He opened his eyes, eyes he didn't remember closing, and watched the female doctor who had spoken up before hover over him, her hands checking his muscles, trailing his skin as if searching for something. He wondered if she found it.
The world began spinning again, and he closed his eyes, willing the dizziness to go away. His whole body felt heavy, heavier than it should've, yet weak at the same time.
"You're done with four bags, Nineteen. I'm going to let you take a break before we take out one more." The female doctor said, but Steve couldn't' find the strength to respond.
"Doctor, Brenner said to get five bags." One of the guards said, and she sighed tiredly.
"Yes, and we will get them, but Nineteen needs a break. Look at him. He'll be dead before we get five bags. When was the last time you've eaten, Nineteen?"
"I…" His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he opened his eyes, the world still refusing to stop spinning, but he managed to respond. "Soup? When El was…"
"When she was finding her memories? No wonder you're struggling. You haven't eaten in a few hours."
Steve couldn't find it in himself to be surprised by that. Time meant nothing now, and he didn't even feel hungry. A part of him wondered if his powers had returned, but he knew that he was probably just too tired, too weak to feel the pangs of hunger.
"I'll get you something to eat, and then we'll continue."
Food. The thought made him sick.
"Guards, keep an eye on him. I don't think he'll be able to do anything, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
Steve could hear the door open and close, and then there was silence. But he knew that he wasn't alone.
"I think you could put the gun away." One of the guards eventually said with a chuckle. "That kid isn't going anywhere.
Steve watched as the gun disappeared from his view, and allowed himself to feel the slightest bit relieved. The threat of being shot still lingered, but at least it wasn't staring him in the face.
A clanging sound came from beyond the door, and the guards went quiet, both of them raising their guns. Steve could hear the remaining doctors scurry behind his chair, and he himself struggled to sit up, hoping to have a better view of the door. But, the restraints around his chest and arms stopped him, and he sat back down in a huff, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat.
The guards stood stiffly as more loud noises, noises of struggle, came from the hallway, and one of them had their hand poised close to a radio, as if waiting to make a call.
Then the door, as if by magic, crumbled in on itself, the sound of metal grinding on metal filling Steve's ears. It bent inward, falling off the hinges, and eventually dropped to the floor with a bang.
El stood in front of them, her hand raised and a dribble of blood flowing down from her nose, determination in her gaze. With a practiced movement, she flung the two guards to the wall, where they crumbled to the floor, unconscious, their guns sliding away from their hands. Before the doctors could send out a distress call, Hopper entered the room, a gun he no doubt stole in his hands.
"Nobody moves unless I tell them to, got it?" Hopper said, and Steve couldn't help but be relieved at his presence. He would be okay. They came to save him. Hopper and El would get him out of here.
"El, watch the door." Hopper continued, his voice gruff but still carrying the tones of a leader. He made his way over to Steve, grabbed a knife, and began cutting away the leather bonds. Steve stayed limp as Hopper did so, as he didn't have the strength to try and help, and he didn't want to make things any harder.
"Kid, you're as pale as a ghost. Can you walk?" Hopper said as the final bond broke, and Steve nodded weakly.
"I…I can try."
Slowly swinging his legs off the bed, he slid off, landing on his feet. His knees immediately gave out and, Hopper, without saying a word, easily picked him up bridal style and carried him out of the room, all the while not letting go of the gun.
"El, get us out of here, now!"
El nodded, and Hopper followed her, his grip on Steve never letting go. As Hopper ran, protected by El, who continued to throw guards out of the way, Steve's mind became more clear, confusion slowly falling away from him with every step Hopper took.
They were escaping. After all of the pain, the struggle, and the barriers, they were escaping. But, how were they going to leave the lab and get back to Hawkins? Were they going to have to walk back?
Steve couldn't do that. He could barely stand on his own, let alone walk. And he didn't want to make Hopper carry him the whole way.
"How are we going to get out of here?" Steve asked over the gunfire, and Hopper managed a smile.
"Good ol' Murray has a plane waiting outside. It turns out Owens is actually helping us out a bit, he gave him a call."
Steve didn't have time to question why Doctor Owens had finally decided to help. It wasn't important now. The only thing that mattered was that they had a way of escape.
Eventually a siren began wailing through the halls, and more armed guards came up behind them. Hopper and El ducted behind a wall, Hopper pulling out another gun from his waistband.
"Steve, you're going to have to hide back here as I deal with these guys."
He nodded, "I'll be fine."
Hopper gently lowered Steve to the ground, instantly turning back towards the hallways and firing as soon as Steve was safe. El had begun to toss anything that she could find from the rooms beside her, tables, chairs, dropped weapons and more at their attackers, while Steve sat against the wall, willing a bit of strength to come back into his limbs. He was out of breath, and greedily took in air as often as he could.
Bullets were flying through the hallway, and Hopped managed to duck behind the wall before any could hit them.
"We should run for it." Steve said, knowing that they had to get out of here, and fast. Hopper looked at him expectantly.
"You sure, kid?"
"I'm sure. I'll be okay. We just need to get out of here before more guards come."
Hopper nodded, and, after sharing a look with El, backed away from the wall, Steve shakily getting to his feet and following his lead. With a scream El tossed one last table at them, and the trio made a run for it.
Steve stumbled as he ran, his legs refusing to work like they used to, but Hopper continued to help him forward whenever he would begin to fall behind. His whole body screamed at him, begging him to stop, to rest, yet he continued forward.
The guards were still in pursuit. Steve chose to ignore them and hope that a bullet didn't hit him. He would be done if he was hit, and he would never get to see Robin or Dustin again.
He had to keep going. He had to stay safe. He had to get back to them.
El and Hopper would occasionally turn back to attack, yet Steve barrelled forward, determined to find the exit before it was too late.
Finally, Steve could see two large doors, with little slits of sunlight peeking through the cracks. And his heart sank at the sight. The doors meant freedom, but they were way too heavy for him to open. Hopper or El would have to do it, but they were busy attacking the guards behind them.
"Hopper! I can't open the doors!"
Hopper glanced at the doors, sweat beading down his forehead, and nodded.
"El, keep them out of our way! I'll get the doors!"
Steve reached the door, Hopper right behind him. The older man opened the door with ease, and Steve was pushed through it.
Once Steve's eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he could see that there was a plane sitting not too far from the exit, Murray standing outside of it. Steve waved at him, making sure that Murray knew that they were out. He then turned back to the door, helped pull El through it, made sure that Hopper got out, too, and slammed the door shut with as much strength as he could.
It wouldn't stop their pursuers for long, but it would hopefully buy them enough time.
The air was warm around them as they ran to the plane, all of their footsteps crunching in the dirt, Steve's bare feet hurting with every step.
"Come on, hurry up! We don't have all day, people!" Murray shouted, and Hopper lifted El into the plane, where there was a side door already open for them. Hopper lifted Steve in next, and Steve collapsed against the floor, darkness creeping at the edge of his vision.
Behind them, Steve could just make out guards coming their way, and bullets began ricocheting off of the exterior of the plane, shattering a window above him.
As soon as Hopper was in the plane, Murray began shouting words at the pilot. Then the plane began moving, driving across the barren wasteland until the wheels had lifted off of the ground, bringing them further and further from the lab with every second.
Hopper shut the door to the plane with a huff, and Steve managed to breathe a sigh of relief. They had made it. They had escaped.
But that relief vanished when he saw El. El, whose white suit was stained with red, a patch of blood near her stomach growing bigger and bigger with every second. A gunshot wound.
El had been shot. And Steve didn't know if he had the strength to save her.