quinn hadn’t known what to do in the midst of all the chaos at the carnival. she barely knew anyone in attendance and as far as dealing with anything supernatural went, she was a total rookie. this meant she’d stayed mostly silent and observant while the people around her problem-solved. she found it odd that most of them seemed to have some level of experience with this kind of thing, but given who her father was and the town he ran away to, she should’ve known. quinn somewhat quickly picked up on what was happening. all it took was jonathan pointing out that half the people on the tunnel of love boat ride didn’t look so good and all of a sudden they were like possessed zombies with one goal: blow this place up.
at least that was what quinn figured…given the bomb. but some genius girl had disarmed that. quinn’s mistake had been thinking they were somewhat in the clear. but then she saw it. the guy with the mullet and the piercing blue eyes beelining for the fireworks when everyone was occupied with something else. quinn had wanted to say something like, hey, that guy has a lighter or hey, maybe we should call the cops. but instead, she said nothing. the words were lodged in her throat like a bone and her tongue felt too big for her mouth and even though she had wanted to be brave, she was immobile. she was stuck.
quinn wasn’t sure if she’d actually screamed, “NO!” when billy lit up the fireworks or if she’d only imagined it, but it made no difference. he got to the fireworks. he set off the explosives. and within seconds, quinn was out like a light.
was she dreaming or was she dead? where was she? for a while there was only nothingness. everything was black. but now she was somewhere else. somewhere bright. she felt like she had a body even though she couldn’t see it. quinn saw flashes of her mom in the rearview mirror when she started her drive to hawkins. she saw the welcome to hawkins sign over and over and over and over again. she saw murray setting up her bed in the guest room. she heard him too. he’d said, “you keep sleeping, kid, you’re looking great.”
wait—he hadn’t said that, had he? he’d said something else…but then everything went dark again. shit. she was probably dead. she had died like a stupid coward in the midst of some freak attack and now her life would amount to nothing and—
suddenly she could feel her ears and eyes again as her father’s voice echoed in her head. she wasn’t sure how, but she was reaching for the sound. trying to muster up the strength of a thousand steve harrington’s, quinn cracked open her eye lids and blinked away the blurriness until finally, there was her dad, lecturing a nurse. something about her mother. something about her iv. the window. relief washed over quinn like waves over rocks.
waves. water. she needed water. water. water. “water,” she finally managed to say, voice hoarse as she turned her head slightly to face her dad. “water?” she asked this time and made the mistake of lifting her arm to grab some herself. the second she did, she felt a sharp pain in her chest which caused her yelp before curling back into herself. so she wasn’t dead, but she was hurt. she glanced down at herself and saw her arm in a cast and sling, and she assumed something was also wrong with her rib cage because ow, it hurt to breathe.
moving slowly, quinn adjusted herself so that she could take the glass of water that was being offered to her. she sipped it with her eyes shut, still tired from the meds and the trauma, but after a few gulps, she felt strong enough to speak and really open her eyes. she was in a hospital room. her body hurt like hell. her dad was here and he’d apparently brought some of her things. “kicking me out of your house already?” she joked, turning to face him with an sheepish grin, “kind of fucked up, if you ask me.” there was no getting comfortable, so quinn succumbed to the pain and just laid there, staring at her dad beside her. “is everyone else okay?” she asked, brows furrowed, “did they catch who did it?” and then, hesitantly, she inquired, “how bad was it?”
When Quinn asked for water, Murray burst into action. “Let me,” he instructed, wincing at her pained yelp. He leapt from the chair and picked up the plastic cup from the tray table, angled the straw to where she could close her lips around it. He held it for her, not sure how much strength she had at the moment, and set it to the side when she seemed satisfied. Tears pricked at his eyes and, despite his best efforts to blink them away, spilled onto his cheeks. She was alive, she really was going to be okay.
It soothed the guilt that had taken up residence in his chest a little. While Quinn was asleep, Murray had been plagued with self-inflicted accusations. If he hadn’t come here, maybe she wouldn’t have followed him. If he had been more clear in his letters instead of using that stupid code, maybe she would’ve been more prepared. If he had just let go of that lead about goddamn Kali Prasad all those years ago, maybe he wouldn’t have missed out on his daughter’s life.
But now, she was awake and alert, so he shelved the guilt for later, swiped the tears off his face, and gave his daughter his full attention. Half of him expected her to yell at him, curse him for leading her here-- no matter how inadvertent it was. Instead, she made a fucking joke, and he immediately felt like he was staring at himself. With an amused chuckle, he shook his head. “Thought about it, after all the hair I pulled out of the drain last week.” If joking would make her feel better, joke he would, but his tone remained soft-- almost like he was afraid to break her. In this room, she was young and fragile again and Murray’s paternal urge to protect her was tearing through his body.
Of course, he’d failed at protecting her once. Hawkins itself would crumble if he failed to protect her twice. And then she shocked him again, asking about everyone else, and the culprit, and the damage. It hit him between the eyes. She didn’t need protecting at all, not really. That was a scary thought. “A few others got hit like you-- Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Cole Montgomery,” he grimaced at the thought. He should’ve been there. “They’re awake, though. Doing good.”
At her final two questions, Murray heaved a sigh and sat back down in the chair. Close by enough in case she wanted water again, but not standing over her and inspecting her injuries, no matter how much he wanted to. “You need to worry about healing, resting... not this,” he said, a valiant attempt at what he thought a normal father would say. But, Murray Bauman wasn’t a normal father, and Quinn Bauman certainly wasn’t a normal girl. “It was bad, Quinn. Five dead-- one of the teachers, a few young girls, a rent-a-cop and the grocery store owner.” He paused for a beat, letting the heaviness of his statement hang in the air.
“They haven’t caught anybody. Made a few arrests for show, but...,” he leaned closer to her, dropping his voice in case any of the nurses had wandering ears. “I don’t think it’s a who. I think it’s a what.”
