The dim light of the Wheeler basement flickered over scattered papers, casting long shadows as Steve, Lucas, and Dustin huddled around old newspapers, flipping through the pages about Victor Creel. Their voices rose and fell as they bickered, discussing theories and trying to piece together the mystery of what they'd read.
Dove sat slouched in a chair near the edge of the room, her gaze unfocused, staring into some far-off point. Their conversation washed over her like white noise as she toyed with a loose thread on her sleeve, twisting it around her finger. Her mind drifted back to the visions she'd had—too vivid, too intense to ignore. The silent hum of fear and uncertainty ran through her veins, unsettling her even as she tried to convince herself she could handle it.
Across the room, Max was hunched over the desk, pen in hand, quietly writing. She'd been like that for a while, almost lost in her own world, as if putting words to paper could somehow ground her.
Dove straightened up, her eyes drifting to where Max was hunched over the desk, scribbling quietly. She could sense the tension in Max's shoulders, the exhaustion etched into every line of her face, as though the weight of her nightmares hung heavily over her. For a moment, Dove watched, debating if she should disturb Max's quiet, but the questions gnawed at her too urgently to ignore.
Taking a breath, she crossed the room and sank down beside Max, resting her arm on the desk's edge. "Hey," she murmured, her voice soft so as not to startle her.
Max looked up, her pen freezing mid-word, brows raised in slight surprise. "Hey," she replied, eyes flicking to Dove and back to her notebook, as though she were bracing herself for something.
"I just.. wanted to see how you're holding up," Dove began, hoping she didn't sound as uncertain as she felt. "With everything going on. The nightmares, I mean."
Max's gaze flickered with understanding, a hint of guardedness in her eyes. "It's been rough, yeah," she admitted. "But.. I'm managing, I guess. Kind of."
Dove nodded, letting the silence hang for a moment before she asked, "Have you ever.. seen him? Like, really seen him? Or heard him say anything?"
Max looked up, brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
Dove's fingers fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. "I mean.. Vecna," she said, the name barely above a whisper. "Has he ever.. talked to you?"
A shadow crossed Max's face, and she hesitated. "He.. he's shown me things. Bad things," she replied carefully, "But he's never.. said anything. Not like a conversation."
Max straightened, her face shifting from guarded concern to genuine worry. Her gaze sharpened, studying Dove as if searching for cracks beneath her composed exterior.
"Wait," Max said, leaning in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you.. are you saying that you've been having nightmares, too?"
Dove hesitated, her fingers clenching the bracelet a bit tighter as she nodded. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice faltering. "For.. months now."
Max's eyes went wide. "Months?" she echoed, a mix of disbelief and something else—maybe a glimmer of hope, as if Dove's endurance might hold the answer they needed. "That's not.. How are you still here?"
Dove's mouth went dry. She hadn't dared ask herself that question—not really. "I don't know," she murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "It's like.. he's waiting. He keeps saying I have to.. make a choice."
Her words hung between them, heavy and unsettling. Max's expression softened with worry, her hand slowly reaching out to rest on Dove's. They stayed like that for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them, a silent recognition of the darkness they both shared but didn't yet fully understand.
Before either could say more, the sound of hurried footsteps snapped them out of the moment. Nancy and Robin rushed down the basement stairs, their faces tense and determined.
"Okay, so, we have a plan," Nancy said, catching her breath as she glanced to Robin, who gave her a quick nod of encouragement.
Dove stood, placing a comforting hand on Max's shoulder before joining the others around the table. Robin passed files to Steve and Dustin, who quickly flipped through them. Dove leaned over Steve's shoulder, scanning the documents as he did.
"Thanks to Nancy's newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame," Robin explained.
Nancy looked up and added, "I'm now Ruth,"
"And I'm Rose." Robin said.
Steve raised an eyebrow, glancing at Nancy. "Ruth?" he asked with a smirk.
Nancy shrugged, her lips twitching with amusement.
Dustin, peering at the other file, snorted as he read. "Nice GPA," he remarked.
"Thanks," Nancy replied, her tone almost deadpan, but there was a hint of pride there. She continued, "So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we'd like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we're co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics."
"To which they said no," Robin added, rolling her eyes.
"But we landed a three o'clock with the director," Nancy finished, her voice bright with determination.
Steve handed Lucas the file, who gave a low whistle as he looked it over. Robin crossed her arms, a glint of confidence in her eyes. "Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor."
"Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse." Nancy said, causing them all to glance over at Max, who had continued writing.
"Yeah," Steve started, "About that. We've been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh.. we got some questions."
"Lots of questions." Lucas said.
"So do we." Nancy said. "Hopefully, Victor has the answers."
"Hopefully they'll let you talk to him." Dove added. She looked over at Robin. "And maybe.. consider a wardrobe change."
Robin looked down at her outfit, confused. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Nothing!" Dove replied quickly, holding up her hands. "It's just.. it's already a stretch thinking the director is going to take two female students seriously. Sometimes it's helpful to lean into.. well, your other assets." Nancy and Robin exchanged a look, as if they hadn't even considered the possibility.
Nancy nodded, a glint of understanding crossing her face. "Actually, I think I have something that might work." She gestured upstairs, and the four of them headed up to her room.
Nancy walked into her room first, heading straight for her closet. Steve, meanwhile, leaned against the doorframe with a sigh, shooting a glance at Dove. "So, once again, we're stuck on babysitting duty."
Nancy turned, a hint of a reprimand in her eyes. "First of all, they're not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger. She needs people around her."
"She's right, Steve. I think it's best if you and I stay with Max, given the situation," Dove added, giving Steve a look that carried a weight of unspoken understanding. Steve met her gaze, his expression shifting as he processed her meaning. She wasn't just talking about Max—Vecna's shadow loomed over Dove, too. He nodded, his conviction replaced by a flicker of worry.
Just then, Robin walked in, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on a poster beside Nancy's bed. Her eyebrows shot up as she rushed toward it, "Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster." She stopped, turning to Nancy with a grin.
"That's old." Nancy said awkwardly.
Unbothered, Robin just laughed, still glancing around the room. She moved to Nancy's nightstand, picking up a stack of polaroids and sifting through them.
Nancy looked over, exasperated. "Can you please not touch anything?"
Robin grinned, unfazed, but kept on snooping as Nancy continued. "I did a little digging last night, and it turns out Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar." She paused to look at Steve and Dove, who were leaning against her dresser, listening. "If we're going to win him over, we need to convince him we're academic scholars too. Like, serious ones."
Just then, a soft melody filled the room as Robin opened a jewelry box, revealing a tiny ballerina twirling in the center. "Holy crap," she said, holding it up. "There's an actual little ballerina in here!"
Nancy shot her an unimpressed look while Dove hid a smile. Steve, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at Robin. "Academic scholar?" he asked, gesturing to her. "She's giving you an academic scholar vibe?"
Robin shrugged, setting the box down. "Look, if anyone else wants to go and wear something that screams, 'Hey, I'm trying to impress some guy who thinks he's a genius,' be my guest. Dove would probably do a better job than me anyway."
Steve's expression shifted, his tone growing serious. "No way. Dove stays with me." The girls all looked at him in surprise, and he cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. "You know.. if she thinks that's best."
Dove caught his eye for a moment before shaking her head slightly. "Steve's right. I should stay with Max. If something happens.." She trailed off, her gaze steady. "I should be there."
"It's settled then," Nancy said, emerging from her closet with a pink, ruffled blouse held up for them to see.
Robin's mouth fell open as she stared at it in disbelief. "Oh, please, tell me that you're joking," she said, a mix of horror and amusement on her face. Nancy looked at the blouse and shrugged, unbothered. Robin sighed dramatically, waving her hands at them. "Out, all of you. I need some privacy if I'm going to become, as Dove put it, 'an asset' to the male gaze."
Steve and Dove exchanged glances as they backed out of the room. Dove gave Robin a playful thumbs-up as they closed the door, and they moved to the hallway, leaning against the wall as they waited. Steve looked over at Dove, his expression softening. "I'm glad you're sticking around. Feels like old times, you know? Us, holding down the fort."
Dove shrugged, the faintest hint of a smile on her face. "I couldn't leave you to do all the heavy lifting," she replied, her tone teasing.
Steve opened his mouth to respond but paused, looking at her thoughtfully. "You haven't.. seen or heard anything else since last night, have you?"
Dove shook her head, trying to keep her expression neutral. "No, nothing like that," she replied, though the memory of the visions tugged at the edges of her mind.
Steve's brow furrowed as he watched her, clearly not fully convinced. After a moment, he placed his hand lightly on her arm, his gaze steady. "Promise me," he said, his voice softer, almost pleading. "If anything happens, anything weird, you'll tell me. No more secrets."
Dove looked down at his hand on her arm, feeling the warmth of his concern cut through the tension she'd been holding. "I promise," she murmured, her tone sincere.
He seemed to relax, his hand lingering just a moment longer. "Good," he said with a small smile, though there was still a hint of worry in his eyes as they both turned back toward Nancy's door.
From behind the closed door, Robin's muffled voice complained, "I feel like I should be wearing a powdered wig and signing the Declaration of Independence."
They shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing slightly as they waited for Robin and Nancy to finish up.
When they finally emerged from the room, Dove bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face as she took in Robin's outfit: the overly ruffled pink blouse paired with an awkwardly long skirt and kitten heels. Steve barely managed to stifle his laugh, turning it into a cough, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing at Dove as if sharing an inside joke. Nancy shot them both a warning glare, daring them to make a comment.
Robin sighed, adjusting the collar with an exasperated look. "This isn't going to work. I look like I should be auditioning for Dynasty or something."
Nancy placed a reassuring hand on Robin's shoulder. "Trust me, it'll work. Just keep your head up."
Dove nodded, offering her an encouraging smile. "Nancy's right. Confidence is just pretending you know what you're doing."
Robin took a deep breath, reluctantly nodding. "Fine. Confidence. Pretend. Got it." She squared her shoulders, and with Nancy's final encouraging look, they headed out the door.
Steve and Dove made their way back down the stairs, still joking about how uncomfortable Robin looked. They found Dustin and Lucas on the couch, watching Max, who was still bent over the desk, scribbling intensely in her notebook. Dove's face softened with concern as she watched her friend, her worry clearly written across her face.
Max's voice broke the silence, low and tired. "I know you guys are staring at me." She didn't look up as she spoke, and Dustin hastily shook his head, pretending to be focused on the floor, while Lucas buried his face in an old newspaper clipping he'd picked up. The tension was thick, lingering in the air like a fog as Max gathered a small stack of envelopes, her movements almost painfully deliberate.
"How you think your eyes boring into the back of my head is protecting me from Vecna, I don't know." She stood, taking a breath as she shuffled through the envelopes in her hands, her voice laced with frustration. She walked toward them, each step purposeful. Dustin cleared his throat, trying not to look at her, but the others kept stealing glances, unable to resist the worry bubbling beneath their attempts at nonchalance.
"You can look at me now," Max added, her tone annoyed but soft.
"Thank you," Dustin mumbled sheepishly as the others echoed apologies, letting go of whatever they'd been pretending to look at.
"For you," Max said, holding out an envelope to Dustin, her gaze fixed on the floor as she continued down the line, giving each of them an envelope. Dove's eyes flickered over her own name, written hurriedly on the front in Max's familiar handwriting. She felt a dull ache in her chest as she took it, fingers brushing Max's for a brief moment. Max gave Lucas the last few, nodding to the three names scrawled on each. "And give these to Mike, El, and Will," she added quietly, a heavy sigh escaping her. "If you can ever get ahold of them again."
Dustin and Steve shared a look before both moved to open their envelopes, curiosity overriding caution, but Max's voice cut in sharply. "What are you doing? That's not for now. Don't open it now."
Dustin blinked, closing the envelope, cheeks reddening. "Don't.. okay.. I'm sorry. What is this?"
Max's gaze shifted, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at the floor. "It's, um.. it's a fail-safe. For after. You know, if things.. if they don't work out."
Dove's grip tightened on her envelope, her mind racing as she stared down at her name. She'd guessed it might be something like this, but hearing it spoken aloud made it all feel crushingly real.
"Wait, whoa." Lucas's voice broke the tension, his tone insistent as he leaned forward, his face lined with worry. "Max, things are going to work out."
"No," Max replied immediately, her voice sharp but tinged with a vulnerability that made everyone fall silent. "I don't need you to reassure me right now and tell me it's all gonna work out. People have been telling me that my entire life, and it's almost never true."
They all stared, her words hanging heavily between them, sinking into the quiet like stones. Max shook her head, her expression distant and resigned. "It's never true. I mean, of course this asshole curses me. I should've seen that one coming."
Dove felt her chest tighten as she watched Max stand there, the weight of her words crashing over them. Shoving her envelope into her bag, Dove approached Max, glancing at the stack of letters she held tightly. She could see the top one was labeledMom, and the sight of it made Dove's heart ache even more.
She placed a gentle hand on Max's shoulder, her voice soft. "Come on. Let's go deliver the rest of these."
Max looked up, her eyes wide and a little hopeful, before she nodded. Steve, however, shook his head, crossing his arms in a way that was half-protective, half-stubborn. "No."
Dove ignored him, grabbing her jacket without another word and following Max as they headed for the front door. Her mind raced with worry and determination; she knew Max needed this, just as she knew what it felt like to be burdened with words left unsaid.
Steve called after them, running to catch up. "Max, seriously. I'm not joking, okay. I'm not driving you anywhere."
Max stopped, facing Steve head-on with a fierce glint in her eyes. "Steve, if you think that I'm going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler's basement, then you're out of your mind." She continued walking toward the car, adding, "So either take me where I need to go, or you're gonna have to tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor. And if I live to see another day, Steve, I swear to God, I will prosecute."
Dove almost smiled despite herself at the fierceness in Max's voice. It was a welcome change back to the girl Max was when they had first met. But as they reached the car and Max pulled at the handle, it wouldn't budge. Steve had locked it.
"Open the door," Max demanded, her jaw set.
"Uh, no," Steve replied, glancing between Dove and Max, his stubborn stance not budging an inch. Dove crossed her arms, standing in solidarity beside Max.
"I know a good lawyer," Max said, glancing over at Dove.
Steve looked between them, exasperation clear on his face, and for a moment Dove thought he might actually relent. But as his gaze settled on her, Dove could see the worry mingling with the frustration, his expression silently pleading for her to understand his hesitance.
After a long, tense standoff, Steve's resolve finally broke. With a heavy sigh, he pulled his keys from his pocket, muttering something under his breath as he unlocked the car.
Max, Dustin, and Lucas clambered into the back seat. Dove, however, lingered outside, taking a step closer to Steve, who was still bristling, his frustration clear in the tight line of his jaw.
She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch softening his stance just slightly. Her eyes met his, a small, understanding smile playing on her lips. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice sincere. The tension in his face eased a bit as he looked at her, and though he didn't smile, there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. With one last glance, Dove walked around to the passenger seat, settling in as Steve slipped in on the driver's side, the engine humming to life as they pulled out onto the street.