I hope you enjoy this (edited) chapter! As always, I only own my OC.

As soon as Jonathan parks, I'm shooting out of the car and bolting into the house, taking stock of the mess. My partners follow me in, Nancy carrying the tank and the extinguisher while Jonathan brings the box. He stumbles under the weight, so I set my bag down in the kitchen and help him put the heavy cardboard on the ground. The extinguisher joins it, and Nancy claps her hands together. "What do we do?" She asks. "How do we -"

"Kill the Demogorgon?" I finish, biting my lip. "We treat it like any other intelligent predator. This thing moves fast, comes literally out of nowhere." I look up at the Christmas lights around the house, multiple bulbs missing. "The kids said the gate has a strong electromagnetic field. And your mom's been using these to talk to Will." Thinking back to what Jonathan told us in the car, I watch him nod in confirmation. I start to pace around the cluttered living room, biting at the skin around my thumb in thought. "Ok, so, we know the monster can create rifts, too. Which will affect the electricity. I don't know how I feel about setting up extra traps, since it's too closed in here, but if we change some light bulbs in those strings -"

"That can be our alarm system." Nancy finishes.

Jonathan nods. "Okay. I'll grab the extra bulbs."

"We'll need a hammer, too." I crouch down to inspect the bear trap, biting my lip.

"Got it!" He shouts back, going through his house. Nancy and I unpack the box, laying out some ammo, the nails, the lighter fluid, and a baseball bat. Jonathan returns with the items I sent him to look for. The three of us go around the rooms, replacing bulbs and pushing boxes and scattered papers out of the way so no one trips in the inevitable fight with the Demogorgon.

I stagger over to the narrow hallway, gingerly carrying the bear trap as exhaustion continues to creep through my body. Jonathan and Nancy follow me, sitting to the side and observing as I figure out the perfect spot for the fanged trap.

Nancy slides over a box of nails and I position them in the hole for the chain. Jonathan silently hands me the hammer, and the only sounds that can be heard are metal-meeting-metal and heavy breathing. While I'm working, Nancy gets up and begins to pour out the gasoline, creating a trail to help light up the sucker when it gets caught.

As soon as I've got the trap nailed down, Jonathan presses his foot to the bridge. I pry open the teeth, finished preparing it to chomp down on our enemy. Nancy helps me stand, handing me a yo-yo and an extra-long string. I attach it to the trap and carefully walk it into Will's room, trying to make sure it's not in the way if we end up having to run - which, given what we're dealing with, we probably will. Placing the yo-yo end over the chair in his room, I double-check the signal is secure before returning to my partners. "You guys have weapons, right?" I ask.

They look at each other and grin, walking away. I just roll my eyes and follow after them, taking a seat at the kitchen table once I've poured myself some water. With a heavy sigh I pull out my bow and arrows, inspecting the sharp tips. I make sure the string is tightened and the small gears on the compound move with ease.

Something clicks behind me and I briefly turn my head to see Nancy holding a revolver, loading it with bullets and clicking it into place. Jonathan is banging something with his hammer. From over the table I can see him forcing nails into the barrel of the wooden bat. The coffee table shakes as he uses the worn mahogany as a workbench. My focus returns to the arrowheads in front of me, and I reach down to pluck my knife out from it's holster. I panic for a second when I don't find it, before remembering I lent it to Dustin.

God, I really hope that doesn't backfire. If I don't die fighting the monster, my mom will finish the job.

I get up and cross over to one of the drawers, pulling out the sharpest knife I can find before sitting back down. I sharpened a few earlier, when I was with Hopper, but there's still a couple that are too dull for my taste, and I don't want to be unprepared when this thing comes.

As metal scrapes against metal, Nancy sits next to me, watching. "You compete, right? How long have you been doing archery?"

"Why are we talking about this?" I ask, not unkindly, and she blushes.

"Sorry, I'm nervous. And…"

"And archery seems like a safe subject." She nods, still a little embarrassed, but I smile at her, walls down for the moment. "It's okay. Honestly. I'm terrified, too. We're in this together." I go back to the task at hand. "I started when I was a kid. Eight. Robin Hood was my favorite book. My dad would read it to me all the time. He did teach me how to use a gun, but I like the idea of running through the woods with a bow way more. When he left, this was, uh - this was the only thing that didn't make me completely hate him."

"When this is all over, do you want to have a competition? See who the better marksman is?"

I grin at her competitive-yet-friendly smirk. "Sure. But you're going to end up owing me a bunch of strawberry milkshakes."

Both of our smiles turn sad, but she takes my elbow comfortingly. "Actually, you're going to be the one owing me milkshakes. I prefer chocolate."

I bite my lip and set down my sharp arrows. "So that's how it's gonna be?"

"Oh, you know it is."

We look at each other, then burst into laughter. That gets the attention of Jonathan, who walks over to us in confusion.

"What's going on?"

"Nunya business, Johnny." I tell him, wiping away hysterical tears. "Is everything ready?"

He sighs, looking down nervously. "Yeah. As much as it can be, at least."

I nod and stand, placing my arrows back in the quiver and pulling it over my body, tightening the diagonal strap. I hold onto my bow, too, and watch as Jonathan riffles through the draw of utensils. He holds up a couple of knives when I clear my throat, nodding when I flash the chef knife at him. Each of us grasping the hilt of a blade, we cluster together in the living room. "Remember," I breathe out, "We go straight into Will's room, and -"

"And avoid the trap." Nancy nods, voice shaky.

We look at Jonathan, who breathes in. "We wait for the yo-yo to move. Then," he holds out the zippo and flicks it open.

Then we burn the son of a bitch.

"Okay. We've got a plan. A good one. Even if the plan goes south, we stay and we fight." I order, and they nod in agreement.

"You ready?" Jonathan asks us, hesitation ringing loud and clear in his voice. I set my bow between my legs and hold out my right hand, my left holding the knife to my open palm. It'd be a bitch of a thing if I had to hold my weapon with a cut hand and worry about accuracy. At least when I pull the string, all I need are my fingers.

"Ready." Nancy declares, right hand holding her knife against her left palm.

Jonathan exhales and nods, knife pressed to his left hand. "Me too."

When I don't answer, Jonathan clears his throat. "Jesus Christ, let's just do this shit." I gruff out. Nancy snorts, and Jonathan rolls his eyes. "Alright, okay. On the count of three."

"One..." Nancy says.

"Two..." Jonathan follows, and I suck in some air, cool blade to my skin.

"Three." I breathe out, and we slice our palms together, wincing and groaning at the sharp pain as some blood drips to the floor.

Now all we have to do is wait.

Jonathan finishes wrapping some gauze around my hand. I'd done the same for Nancy, who helped him. Thankfully none of us cut too deep, and while the wounds are still bleeding we're not in danger of extreme blood loss. Only mild dizziness, but I'm blaming my own personal exhaustion on that.

I sit on the couch beside Jonathan, who's inspecting Nancy's wrapped hand. "Hey." They look at me. "I, uh, I wanted to ask… how did you guys even get those photos?"

"That's your main concern right now?" Jonathan asks, looking away, but his cheeks are red and his eyes are full of embarrassment, which means he's guilty of something.

I let my expression morph into something cold. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Uh -"

"He took pictures of us when we were at Steve's." Nancy rushes out, then closes her mouth and stares apologetically at Jonathan.

"I'm sorry, I think I misheard her. Did Nancy just say you took pictures? Without consent?"

Jonathan sputters. "I was in the woods, looking for Will, and -"

I point at him, leaning close. "Uh-uh, no. Not a good excuse. Did you apologize?"

"Well, I -"

"He did!" Nancy interrupts. "He did, it's okay."

I breathe out, but am still glaring at my best friend. "Dude, that's so creepy. An-and wrong. You know better." He huffs and nods. "I'm disappointed in you. God, that's gross."

"I know." He murmurs, voice all soft with sincere apology. "I shouldn't have done it. I know I shouldn't have. If it's any consolation, I won't be taking pictures of anything anytime soon."

"What do you mean?" I ask, a little less angry at Jonathan for the sake of wanting to move on.

He hums. "Steve broke my camera."

I don't have the heart to tell my best friend I'd have probably done worse if I was in Steve's position, if I didn't know Jonathan. I do take his hand, though, smiling gently at him. "Hey. Maybe we can find one for a good price, after all this?"

"Maybe." He shrugs again.

There's a faint creaking noise that comes from outside, and it halts the conversation. Nancy tenses and I rise ups from the couch. I slowly notch an arrow, but keep my bow lowered.

"Did you hear that?" Nancy asks.

"It's just the wind." Jonathan responds, after a few seconds of silence. "Don't worry." He softly says to Nancy, and I narrow my eyes with interest when the Wheeler girl blushes a little and looks down. "Remember, the lights will flicker when it's here." She nods, her left fingertips gently touching his. I feel a little left out, so I just fix my arrow. "Nancy?"

Oh my God, I'm the third wheel. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Yeah?"

Someone pounds on the door and I immediately stand, drawing my bow and shifting my weight onto my right leg. "Jonathan? Are you there, man? It-it's me, Steve!"

I lower my bow a little, looking down at my companions in shock.

"Steve?" We ask each other at the same time.

Harrington keeps knocking on the door. "Listen, I just want to talk!"

Before I can stop her, Nancy gets up and unlocks the door, but keeps it open three inches. "Steve, listen to me."

"Hey, Nancy." He interrupts, confused, "What -"

"You need to leave."

"I'm not trying to start anything, okay?"

"I don't care about that, you need to leave."

I nervously look down at Jonathan, who gets up and stands a little in front of me. "No, no, no." Steve stammers. "Listen, I messed up, okay? I messed - I messed up." I close my eyes. "Okay? Really. Please. I just want to make things right. Humility and perspective, like Roni said."

"'Roni'?" I open my eyes and stare up at Jonathan, who shrugs in confusion.

"Okay? Please, please… Hey. What happened to your hand?" Steve asks, impossibly soft, and I wish it was directed at me. I look away from the barely-open front door. "Is that blood?"

"Nothing. I-it was an accident."

"What's going on?" Steve tries again, clearly worried.

"Nothing." Nancy responds, short and to the point.

"Wait a sec, did he do this to you?"

"No!"

"Where's Roni? Is she okay?" He asks, forcing the door open. "Is Roni okay?" He asks again, stumbling through the door.

"Steve, stop!" Nancy cries out, but he's already in view, face bloodied and bruised from his fight with Jonathan. He looks around in shock before his eyes fall onto me, bow held up and arrow pointed at him before I realize what I'm doing.

"What is… what the… Roni, what are you doing?" He asks me, holding up his hands in surrender.

"You need to get out of here." Jonathan orders, coming up to the other guy and clenching his hand around the collar of his green sweatshirt.

"Whoa, what is all -"

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

"Roni!" Steve shouts, but I keep my bow up.

"Steve, please. You have to get out of here." I gently order. He shakes his head, trying to shove past Jonathan to come over to me.

"What is that smell? Is… is that gasoline?"

Nancy steps around the newcomer, pulling out her revolver and copying my aim. "Steve! Get out!"

"Wait, wait, wait, what?!" He shouts, looking between us two girls. What is going on?"

"You have five seconds to get out of here."

"Three!" I growl at her. "We don't have time for this!"

She nods without looking at me, but Steve keeps talking. "Okay, is this a joke? Stop! Put the gun and the bow down." He pleads.

I shake my head. "Steven, please go. This is for your own good." I tell him, but he ignores my chilly tone.

"Veronica, I -"

"Nancy, Ver." I hear Jonathan mumble, and briefly look at him. He points up, and I realize the lights are starting to flicker.

"Nancy."

"Nance." Jonathan and I try to get the other girl's attention, but she's too busy threatening Steve.

"Three… two…"

"Nancy!" Jonathan and I shout, and she stops counting, looking between the both of us.

"The lights." My best friend tells her.

"It's here." I tell her, stepping out of the way while Jonathan dives for his bat, straightening and getting ready to swing.

Steve's behind us, still panicking. "Wait, what's here?"

"Where is it?" Nancy asks, and Steve gets closer to us.

"Where is what? Whoa! Easy with those!" He shouts as Jonathan, Nancy and I stand back-to-back-to-back, spinning in a circle and aiming at nothing.

"I don't know, I don't see it!" Jonathan responds, and I draw my arrow, pointing it - well, anywhere and everywhere.

"Where is what? Hello, will someone please explain to me what the hell is going -"

The sound of wood breaking cuts Steve off, and I look up in horror to see the roof of the Byers house caving in, familiar pale arms sneaking through, a closed flowerbud head wriggling through.

I immediately shoot, smiling when it hits the creature in the shoulder. I notch another arrow and hit the Demogorgon in the chest. It roars in pain but keeps going.

Nancy is beside me, shooting at it with her revolver, only to stop when Jonathan jumps forward to pull her back.

"Go! Go! Run! Go!" He shouts, but I refocus on the Demogorgon instead, images of Barbara laughing, smiling, screaming flashing through my mind.

"Come on. Come on!" I roar as it climbs down, a third arrow piercing it's rib cage.

The Demogorgon screeches and staggers towards me, but before I can draw another arrow strong hands are on my hips, tugging me away. Steve practically lifts me off the ground as he panics. As soon as we reach the hall he lets me go, forcing me ahead.

"Jump!" Jonathan shouts, and we each leap over the bear trap.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" Steve shouts, and as soon as he's in the room Nancy slams the door shut. "Jesus! Jesus! What the hell was that?" He screams.

"Shut up!" The three of us tell him. Nancy and I turn around, my arrow drawn and her gun reloaded. Jonathan joins us, zippo flicked open and nail bat held out.

We wait as the creature screeches in pain, loud thumps echoing through the narrow hall. But it goes silent too soon, the yo-yo never moving. The lights stop flickering.

"What's it doing?" Nancy asks, and I feel her looking at me. "Has it ever done that -" I lower my bow and place a finger to my lips before slowly opening the door.

As soon as I'm in the hall, my arrow is notched and drawn to shoot straight ahead, but the monster is gone.

The others follow me out when I gesture for them to come, and without looking their way, I speak up. "It's licking its wounds." I whisper, then glance over at her and Jonathan. "This thing is smart. It's gonna be back, though."

I stare ahead once more, dread building in my stomach.

If three sharp arrows can't slow it down, what will?

After standing in the hall for a few minutes, the four of us silently walk back to the main part of the house. With the exception of Steve, we all have our weapons out at the ready, carefully inspecting every corner we can see. As we look around silently, Steve starts muttering to himself, getting louder and louder as freaks out. Which, understandable. "This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy! This is crazy! This is crazy!" He lunges for the phone and starts dialing, only for Nancy to rush over, snatch it, and throw it down. I can hear the phone break and wince, hoping we can just blame it on the Demogorgon to avoid Joyce's wrath.

"Are you insane?" He screams, obviously terrified out of his mind. Nancy just stares up at him.

"It's going to come back!" She shouts. "So you need to leave." He looks at her in horror. Then his eyes flick over her head so he can look at me. Butterflies flutter around my stomach at the intensity of his gaze.

Bad girl. Down.

Exhaling shakily, I nod. "It's okay, Steve. Go."

Relief flows through my veins when he tears out of the Byers house, slamming the door behind him as he goes. Nancy looks back at me, and I nod. No words need to be said when she rejoins us, three of us standing with our backs to each other, ready to fight.

The lights flicker, stronger than they did before. I can hear the electricity humming, building into a scream. We breathe heavily, slowly walking in a circle.

"Where is it?" Nancy asks.

I shake my head, narrowing my eyes as I try to see through the strobing lights, the house getting darker longer every time the lights flicker. "I don't know."

"Come on. Come on, you son of a bitch." Jonathan growls. "You see it?"

"No!" Nancy responds. Our breathing becomes shorter and louder, the blood rushing to my head as my pulse throbs in my ears.

"Come on!" Jonathan shouts, taunting the monster to finally reveal itself.

Suddenly Nancy yells, and I turn my head to see the Demogorgon coming after her, roaring. I push her out of the way and shoot it in the face, only for the monster to move it's head at the last second. As my arrow pierces one of the petals, it's arm swipes out and I go crashing into the wall by the front door, body falling onto the ground as I scream in pain. My ears ring and my eyes are blurry as I watch what looks like Jonathan get knocked over, too. I blink and groan when something wet drips down my right eye, and I swipe at it. When I pull my fingers back, they look dark.

Nancy is shooting at the monster, screaming in fear. I'm not losing another friend, not today. I groan and push myself up, my left arm throbbing. I scream in pain as I struggle to lift my bow. Nancy runs out of ammo, and I shout in fear. It gets the creature's attention and I let the notched arrow fly loose. It hits the Demogorgon in the chest. My bow clatters to the ground, left arm on fucking fire. The beast roars, a claw raising to scratch me. I'm frozen in place, too scared to move.

He's going to slice me, this is it. I'm going to die -

A strong arm shoots in front of me, shoving me back. I stumble into someone's chest, their left arm wrapping around my waist while the right presses something to my bleeding temple.

There, right where I'd almost been killed, stands Steve Harrington, nail bat in hand as he ducks and hits the monster. I open my mouth in awe as he forces the Demogorgon into the hall, swinging the bat in his hand like any professional player, knocking the monster in the stomach.

Its foot falls into the trap, and the creature screeches in pain. "It's in the trap!" Steve yells, bat still out as he stands in front of me, right next to Nancy.

"Jonathan, now!" Nancy shouts, making my ears ring more.

My best friend rushes forward and throws the open zippo onto the carpet drenched in gasoline, and I cover my eyes with my forearm as the Demogorgon is set ablaze. As it keeps screeching, my stomach twists into knots.

What if the house burns down?

Someone shares the same fear as me, too, because when I remove my forearm from my eyes I see Jonathan blowing out the fire with the extinguisher Nancy stole from the station.

When the smoke begins to clear, I cover my mouth in fear.

Because there's no charred remains to greet us. Instead there's just the same goo as when the Demogorgon makes a rift. Which means it's still alive, and smart enough to know not to come back.

It also means that my brother and his friends are alone in the middle school, and the Party requires assistance.

I stagger back, Steve turning and catching me. "Roni?" He asks.

"I need… the school. My brother. I promised. Please, I need to protect him!" I tell him. "Jonathan, I need the keys to your car." I turn to my best friend, lowering the hand pressed to my temple and realizing Nancy had quickly grabbed me a random rag. I don't need to look in a mirror to know I'd reopened my head wound.

He only shakes his head, walking over to me. "Ver, you're bleeding! You… I -"

"Now! Or I'll try to hotwire it!" I warn, growling lowly and tossing the bloodied cloth to the side.

"Take mine." Steve tells me, before Jonathan can dig out his own.

"Steve -" I whisper, but he shakes his head.

"Speed, scratch it, I don't care. Go protect your brother."

Ignoring my confusion, I catch the keys with my right hand as he tosses them, scooping up my bow as I run out the door.

The car door is still open, so all I have to do is jump in and start the engine.

I drive like I'm in a goddamn race, pushing way past the limit, but Steve's Beemer drives like a dream.

Speeding like the Devil's on my ass, I make it to the high school in ten minutes. I park haphazardly, leaving Steve's car unlocked as I hurry into the school, my right hand clutching my bow as my left arm continues to throb. My nose wrinkles as the scent of blood hits me. If I can smell blood from the entrance of the school, so can the Demogorgon. The thought of something happening to my little brother and his friends has me succumbing to adrenaline. I'm out-pacing the Flash, vision impaired by blood dripping down from the cut on my hairline. Any remaining painkillers are no longer in my system, and I'm in danger of collapsing.

God, did I just wake up in the hospital this morning?

I'm gagging when I turn one corner and see bodies strewn all over the ground, ripped up beyond recognition. Blood runs down the halls like some twisted stream, pooling around bodies shamelessly. I can just make out the kids screaming, and I try to follow their cries. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, El!" I shout on repeat, stumbling through the halls and peering into classrooms.

I find them in the history classroom, and the scene I've staggered into has me screaming in terror.

El's roaring in the face of the shrieking monster, her hand held out as she turns the Demogorgon into dust. A bright light surrounds her, and the little girl glows like some kind of angel. She turns her head and sees me. I try to get closer, but I can't move.

She's keeping me in place.

"Sorry. Saving you." El tells me, then looks back at the boys, zeroing in on Mike. "Goodbye, Mike."

And with a burst of light that has me closing my eyes she's gone, the dusted-Demogorgon debris drifting through the air. I collapse onto my knees, finally able to move but my body starting to shut down. I reach out for the boys, wanting to hold them, but I'm too damn tired to even crawl their way.

As my eyes flutter shut, I vaguely make out a blurry Dustin rushing over to me, can hear multiple footsteps following him. "Promised… I promised you I'd come back…" I murmur, and then the world goes black.

I wake up to the sound of beeping, again. I reach out to smack the alarm, but end up hitting nothing but air. I groan and blink my eyes open, moaning about lights despite them being relatively dim. "Mom, turn it off, I'm sleeping." I mumble, only to reopen them when I hear someone scampering over to me. "Dustin?" I mutter, making out a cap covering curly hair. "D?"

"I'm here. Jesus Christ, you scared me! Mom and dad are outside, speaking to the doctor." I try to sit up, but then give up when I groan in pain. "Whoa, hey, no. No, no. Stay. You're really bruised up, Leia. Like, it's worse than that time you fell off the tree."

"Was trying to save a cat." I remind him, biting my lip as I shift. My left arm is heavier than usual, and I tilt my head so I can get a better view. There's white plaster wrapped around my palm and thumb, leading all the way up to my forearm. "What the hell?"

"Yeah, well, it turns out that being thrown into a wall can contribute to breaking your arm." He sasses me, and I smile.

"Yeah, but I bet it looked badass." I tell him, giving him a wink.

Dustin snorts. "Sure sis. Hey, Leia, I heard you drove Steve Harrington's car. Did you steal the keys from him?"

I shuffle in bed, frowning. "Uh -" I bite my lip as the memories come back to me, and smile to myself. "No. No, he, uh. He gave them to me. Insisted, actually. Even gave me permission to speed and scratch it. Do you think it's possible we've got an Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation?" I ask, and Dustin snorts.

"Yeah, maybe. We should keep an eye out on him."

"Mhmm." I keep smiling to myself, remembering the way Steve swung the bat with practiced ease, twirling it in his hand like some pro. God, and I thought he couldn't get more attractive.

Damn, whatever the doctor gave me is good.

Wonder if Will is getting the same.

Will.

El.

I gasp and look at my brother. "Will. Did they get him?"

"Yeah, yeah. He's asleep, right now. The doctor's said it'll be a little while, but he should be up soon. Just so you know, the Hawkins Lab people are here. Total infiltration, Leia."

I groan. "Assholes." Then I nibble at my lip. "El?"

Dustin looks down, sniffling. "Gone. She's gone."

"No. No." I whimper, shaking my head. That little girl. So powerful, so innocent. She can't be gone. "Mike. Does he hate me? I tried to be fast, I tried to save you. I'm sorry I couldn't, I'm sorry I can't save anyone!" I cry, closing my eyes and moving my head to the other side.

"Whoa! Hey, sis. Shh." Dustin mumbles, climbing up to carefully sit next to me on the bed. I'm still looking away, though. "Mike isn't mad at you. Like, at all. He saw El keeping you back. He knows. He - sis, you should have seen it. He was sitting next to you in the ambulance the whole time they were checking on him. I had to basically fight him to sit with you."

I move my head to look at him, sure my green eyes are impossibly wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. And Lucas was pissed the fu-"

"Language." I warn.

"Fine, he was pissed off because we weren't allowed to ride with you, since mom is your legal guardian."

I smile, soft. "My boys love me."

"Yeah, loopy, we love you."

"Veronica! Oh, sweetheart!" My mom yells, and I jolt in bed, startled at the change in volume. Poor Dustin falls on the floor, but for once mom ignores him, her focus entirely on me. Which freaks me out, because the look on her face is telling me I'm extremely lucky I'm currently stuck in the hospital.

My dad is less vocal, but still looks happy to see me. He follows in after mom, just as awkwardly as before. "How long have I been asleep?" I mumble, looking up at my parents as my mom brushes her hand through my loose blonde curls.

"A few hours. It's barely three in the morning." I nod, then watch as a doctor comes in, looking much less severe than Dr. Brenner. She gives me a smile, despite how serious her eyes are.

"Welcome back, Ms. Henderson. You were quite the handful yesterday, if I'm not mistaken."

I shrug. It's a small and painful gesture, but still. "Yeah, well, next time don't assign me a doctor who doesn't actually work here." I tell her, ignoring the way my mom scolds my tone.

Dad doesn't even bother. Good. He lost the right to parent me like that four years ago.

"Whatever. So, what's the damage, doc?" I ask.

She looks over my chart, then smiles at me. "The good news is we can discharge you at the end of the day. We'll be keeping you here until then, just in case, but you were lucky."

"She has stitches on her forehead and a broken arm! Not to mention the bruising!" My mother panics.

"Mom, it's fine. Dudes dig scars." I wiggle my eyebrows, and wink at my brother, ignoring the pain.

The doctor is also quick to reassure my mom. "She suffered no broken ribs or internal bleeding, which is what we were most concerned about. The bruises will fade, but I'd like to recommend she rest at home for a week, just to let her body settle. You'll have to eat light for a few days, to get your appetite back. And I would like you to only drink water for about a week, to prevent dehydration. The cut on your hand will heal, and did not require stitches. Keep it bandaged and clean, though, we don't want to risk an infection. Your arm had a clean break, but you'll have to rely on your right for up to six weeks."

"So no more archery?" I ask, and my mom lets out a tearful laugh.

The doctor nods, grinning a bit as she shakes her head. I pout. "Sorry, kid. Now, as for your forehead, your right temple has sixteen stitches in it. There's a salve one of the nurses will give you before you're discharged. I'd like you to come back in a week to have them removed, but if you apply the salve regularly, it'll heal nicely."

Scars don't bother me. They tell a story. But I appreciate the gesture, so I nod. "Thanks, doc."

"You're welcome. A nurse will be by in a few minutes with the salve and discharge papers. I'll see you next week, Veronica." Our parents

"Mom, seriously, come on, I can go by myself!" I walk away from my mom, heading into the bathroom. Mom picked up some clothes while I was sleeping, leaving me a baggy green tee, slippers, clean underwear, and sweatpants. I'm going without a bra again, which is great since it looks like my whole torso is one big purple mark.

I sit on the toilet, relieving myself as well as removing my hospital gown and underwear. Getting the shirt on takes very careful maneuvering, and I have to stop more often than I'd like to avoid the gauze on my right temple.

The underwear and sweatpants are easier to tug on, but washing my hands is nearly impossible as one is in a cast and the other is wrapped in gauze. Almost worst - and boy do I have to sort out my priorities - my hair has exploded into a halo of wild curls, completely untamable. With lots of grumbling I step out of the bathroom, almost running into my father's chest.

"Hi." He looks down at me, taking in his stranger-of-a-daughter.

"Hi?" I ask. "What's up, uh, dad?" I clear my throat.

"I just… I wanted to say… damn, this is so hard." I hold in my dirty not-really-a-joke about how hard he was for his secretary-turned-wife. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, kid. I've done a lot of shit things, but leaving you… God, I'm an ass."

"If you're expecting me to say 'oh, no, you're not' I won't be doing that. Anytime soon. It's not just me you walked out on. You left mom, and you left Dustin. Sweet, lovely, smart, brave Dustin who kept asking when you were coming home. Sorry doesn't cover the fact that I became depressed and anxious and pushed people away because now I have this fear of being left behind, again. See, if you had just been honest and said you loved Allison more than mom - well, we all would have still been hurt. But that's a lot easier to come back from than lying about your affair for a whole year, only to get caught by your twelve-year-old daughter." I scoff, and walk towards the open hospital door. I stop for a moment, looking back at him. "Look, you're my dad. A part of me is always going to love you for the good things you did. Like how you taught me how to hunt, taught me how to survive on my own even if I shouldn't have to, just in case I was alone. I never would have survived what happened to me without those lessons." He tearfully nods. "But dad - you're not around anymore. Brief visits that include having to be in the same house as the woman you slept with then married doesn't count as 'good times'. You know? And all the cars in the world won't make up for the fact you haven't been around for Dustin. I could give a fuck about me, I learned how to deal with this shit. But Dustin shouldn't have had to. Mom, either. So as much as I love you, I hate you. Thanks for coming. Really. For being here for mom and D, even if it was only for a little while. But the next time we talk - it's going to be on my terms. Say 'hi' to Allison for me." With one last sigh I exit the room, leaving my dad behind.

Mom and Dustin are waiting for me down the hall, mom giving me a sad smile and a kiss on the cheek when she notices it's just me. "I'm so proud of you, dumpling." She tells me.

"Come on, everyone wants to see you!" Dustin shouts, ignoring how startled the nurses get. "Jonathan and Mrs. Byers are with Will, but everyone else is in the waiting room." He tells me, a little calmer after mom scolds him. I laugh at his enthusiasm, my right arm wrapping around his shoulders.

Mom opens the door and steps through first, keeping it wide as Dustin patiently leads me in. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present milady Veronica Leigh Henderson, Huntress." I snort at his accent, but still curtsy. Mike and Lucas stand and bow, Erica Sinclair - Lucas's little sister - giving me a sassy curtsy in return, but she's smiling. The parents applaud and laugh at their antics, and I roll my eyes, attempting to ignore how hot my face has gotten.

"Jesus Christ, Dustin." I mutter.

Nancy literally pushes past the kids, carefully wrapping me in a hug I can only half-return. "You're such a bitch. I can't believe I let you run off like that!" She whisper-yells in my ear, and I laugh.

"Sorry, sis." I tell her, and she makes a small, pleased noise.

"Yeah, yeah, you pain in the ass."

"Actually, my arm's the thing that hurts. My ass is fine." I joke, and she snorts. When she steps away, the other kids take it as their cue to hug me. Lucas goes first, demanding I help him with his slingshot skills. I agree, happy there's at least someone I know who's interested in long range weapons. Erica is next, shoving Mike out of the way to carefully wrap her arms around my waist.

"You pull that shit again, I'm beating your ass myself." She growls at me, way more ferocious than any other eight-year-old I've met. As always, her parents don't hear her. Still, it makes me smile.

"Aw, kiddo, you say the sweetest things. Now beat it, twerp."

"I ain't no twerp." She bites, but moves out of the way nonetheless. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair are warm as always when they come up to me, Lucas's dad giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder and his mom kissing my cheek.

"If you scare my kids like that again, you're fired." Mrs. Sinclair warns, whispering in my ear. I smile, my whole body glowing at how many people seem to care about me, despite how icy and pulled back I've been.

"Absolutely." I agree, and Mrs. Sinclair moves aside.

Before Mike can hug me, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler each give me a friendly hug. Mr. Wheeler's is awkward, but Karen is all motherly and warm, careful of my injuries but still holding me.

An extremely irritated Mike shoves Steve aside, making the bruised teen stagger. If it wasn't for the fact the Wheeler boy demanded my attention I would have teased the older teen for it endlessly.

Instead, I focus on Mike. He wraps himself around me, careful of my injuries but also not completely gentle. It's surprisingly nice, it makes me feel grounded. "Thanks for coming back for us."

"I was too late." I mumble, so only he can hear. "I'm so sorry. You know I'm always gonna regret not being fast enough, right?"

Mike looks up, silently crying. "You risked death to come save us. Twice. So you're not allowed to regret it."

Easier said than done, kid, but I just settle for hugging him again.

"Okay, okay, my turn. Jesus." Steve mumbles, and his adamancy surprises me for a second, until I remember how softly he'd touched my face in the alley, before our fight. And how he pushed me behind him when he came to our aid in the Byers house.

"Eager, Steven?" I ask him quietly, and I look at Nancy. She's just amused, though, and every so often her eyes drift out the door, as if she's trying to seek out Jonathan.

"Yeah, well, figured I could give you a hug. I mean, you still went way over the speed limit, but the Beemer didn't get a scratch."

"You gave me permission." I remind him, light and teasing.

"Yeah, well, still. It was a heat of the moment thing, alright?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, King Steve." I curtsy again, this time way more sarcastically. He scoffs. "Are you gonna hug me or not, dumbass?"

"Well, if you keep calling me that -"

"Oh, whatever." Before I can even think about stepping away, I'm pulled into a firm chest.

It's a softer hug than I imagined him ever giving, seeing as how he's always vibrating with energy. Maybe it's because of my injuries - maybe it's something else - but this hug is warm, gentle, and patient. It's like new beginnings, and when we break apart and I stare into his brown - no, hazel, how did I not notice it before? - eyes I'm reminded of the forest.

Of home.

"I'm glad you're okay, Roni." He whispers.

"'Roni'?" I finally ask.

Steve steps away from me to run his hand through his precious hair. "I figured I'd try something new. And hey, look, we match." He gestures between our green tops.

I bite my lip and smile up at him, before looking away. "I like it. Um, I'm kinda tired, I'm gonna -"

"Do you need help?" He asks, before blushing as well at how immediate his response is. I shake my head, though. I know, after everything, there's still something between him and Nancy. I made peace with the fact I'll only ever be Steve's friend at most. Having him in my life and learning to love him as a friend is way more important than losing your blood sister over boy drama.

"Thanks, but I've got it." I walk over to Nancy, who helps me down into the seat beside her. She offers her hand and I take it, leaning against her as we wait to hear about Will. My mom gives me a warm smile, before turning and talking to the other parents quietly.

It can't be more than 10 minutes later when the door slams open, and we all jump a bit. But it's not Jonathan, or Joyce.

Hopper's standing in the open doorway, looking at me with absolute sharpness. I gulp, standing up as he marches my way. I cringe as he leans down and points to me in his usual authoritative way. "That was neither smart nor safe." He growls at me, and I flinch at the harshness in his tone. "I'm really tempted to put you on house arrest, and I know your mom will let me."

I glance over to her for a little help, but my mom does that thing where she crosses her arms, raises an eyebrow, and smiles innocently.

Yeah, she may seem all nice and loving - which, okay, she is - but underneath all that lies one hell of a tough woman.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, looking up at the Chief. He's pissed and scared, which is a scary combination considering how big he is.

Hopper breathes out through his nose and ruffles my blonde curls, a little calmer. "The next time you pull that shit, I'm locking you up."

"Okay." I smile at him, and he gestures for me to sit back down, walking over to take the chair between Mr. Wheeler and my mom.

I sigh and rest my head on Nancy's shoulder once more. She hums and strokes my right hand, lulling me to sleep.

A sharp poke to my shoulder has me opening my eyes. I nearly scream until I realize it's only Jonathan, not a monster on the attack. He's kneeling in front of me, taking stock of my broken arm and scarred temple. There are tears in his eyes but a smile on his face. "Hey, hey. It's just me. You're safe." He whispers, and my eyes flick around the waiting room to see the kids and Nancy running out the door.

I look back into Jonathan's eyes, taking in how relieved he looks. "Will?" He nods, and I smile, tearing up and throwing my right arm around his neck, ignoring how sore my body is.

"C'mon, let's get you to him." He hums, helping me stand. We leave the waiting room together, moving nice and slow.

Will is lying in bed, the kids covering him with hugs while Joyce attempts to calm them down, ordering them to be careful. I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand, sobs coming out. Happy ones. "Will." I whisper, the kids back off. He smiles when he sees me, and despite his paleness and how sunken in his brown eyes are, he's alive. "Will!" I shout, rushing over to him so we can hug. We're both mindful of each other's condition, but it's still nice and tight. Joyce strokes my back lovingly, and when I glance her way I notice the tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Veronica." Will breathes out, and I kiss his forehead before I pull away. "You look rough."

I snort wetly and wipe away my tears and snot. "You - God." I shake my head, amused.

The youngest Byers grins back, but then the kids get his attention.

As they tell him about the Demogorgon, the funeral, Troy pissing himself, I look over to Jonathan, giving him a warm smile. He returns it tenfold, shining brighter than the sun.

Then my eyes flick over to where Nancy is standing, arms wrapped around herself.

As quietly as I can, I sneak away from the group and lead her outside, down a separate corridor.

All we have to do is look at each other, blue eyes meeting green, before we break down and hold onto one another. I don't offer words of comfort, and neither does she. We just cry for the friend we lost.

The friend I failed to save.