𝟎𝟎𝟕 — My Sister?
─── 𓇢𓆸 ─── 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙴: Before the Battle of Starcourt, Seven comes face-to-face with the sister she never knew she had. 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 5K 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙱𝚈: Seven, Dustin, Robin, Steve, Erica, Eleven, Mike, Lucas, Max, Nancy, Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce, Murray. 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: Sibling reveal, sister moment, telekinesis, nosebleeds, blood/injury, found family, angst, hope. 𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴: (PLS READ) Canon scenes have been reimagined with rewritten dialogue and additional moments to naturally include Seven. ─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
July 4th, 1985.
Dustin shoves the door open, storming into the mall’s bathroom to find Robin and Steve sitting across from each other on the floor in a stall, laughing hysterically. Erica and Seven follow, coming to a halt at either side of Dustin. For a moment, none of them say anything. The sight in front of them is so unexpected that it takes a minute to process.
Robin sits with her back against one side of the stall, her cheeks flushed and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Across from her, Steve is slumped against the opposite wall, his head tipped back as another fit of laughter shakes through him. Neither of them seem remotely aware of how ridiculous they look.
Dustin’s eyebrows knit together.
“Okay…” His voice trails off as he stares at them. “What the hell?”
Neither answers.
Steve glances up at him, his laughter easing just enough for it to seem like he’s finally about to speak. Instead, his gaze drifts to Robin. Robin meets his eyes, and a second later they’re both laughing again — harder this time. Robin bends forward, one hand pressed over her mouth as she struggles to breathe through it. Steve nearly doubles over, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Dustin blinks between them both; the irritation he’d been carrying since the movie theater is quickly giving way to genuine confusion. Erica shifts her weight beside him, staring openly at the pair.
“There’s no way you two are still drugged,” Erica grimaces as she looks Steve over. Her eyes catch on the stain smeared across the front of his blue Scoops Ahoy uniform. “Is that throw-up on your clothes? Gross.”
Robin clutches her stomach as another laugh threatens to escape. She sucks in a breath, trying to compose herself, and quickly wipes beneath one eye.
“No, no,” she says between breaths. “We’re good.” She glances at Steve. “Right, Steve?”
Steve nods, still grinning despite himself. The laughter has finally started to die down, leaving behind a strange sort of exhaustion. “Right as rain.”
Robin lets out another breath through her nose, shaking her head as if she’s remembering something all over again. The corner of Steve’s mouth twitches. They’re both fighting laughter again, but Dustin’s voice cuts through it before either of them can lose control completely.
“Can the both of you just please get it together? We have to go.” He gestures sharply toward the door behind him, frustration evident in both his expression and voice.
The reminder seems to bring everyone back to reality. Steve’s smile falters slightly as the situation catches up to him. For a brief moment, his gaze drifts to Seven. She stands beside Erica near the entrance of the bathroom, arms loosely crossed, watching the scene unfold with an expression somewhere between concern and disbelief.
Then he clears his throat and pushes himself to his feet. The movement is slower than usual, his body still feeling the effects of everything they’ve been through over the last several hours. Robin rises a moment later, rubbing her hands together anxiously as she exhales. The laughter fades from her face, replaced by a nervous energy that settles heavily in her shoulders.
For a second, nobody speaks. Dustin carefully eases the bathroom door open and peers into the mall. The crowd from the last movie showing is pouring out of the theater now, conversations overlapping as families, teenagers, and couples drift through the corridor. It isn’t orderly, but that’s exactly what he needs. Robin, Steve, Erica, and Seven gather behind him, craning their necks to look past his shoulder.
After a moment, Dustin nods to himself. “And… go.”
The five of them slip out of the bathroom and into the crowd, allowing themselves to be swallowed by the stream of people moving through Starcourt. Seven keeps her head down as they walk, staying close enough to the others that she can feel shoulders brushing against hers every few steps. Around them, nobody pays any attention. They’re just another group of mall-goers trying to get home before closing. To her surprise, it actually works.
“Well, shit,” Erica says after several moments. “That actually worked.”
“Of course it did,” Dustin replies, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Now we just have to follow these commoners to the bus, and we’ll be home sweet home.”
The confidence in his voice makes Steve visibly tense, and Seven notices it instantly. His shoulders stiffen and his pace slows slightly before he finally clears his throat. “Uh, Dustin?”
Dustin barely glances back. “What?”
Steve hesitates. “I don’t think your house is the best idea.”
That gets Dustin’s attention. His head turns fully this time, confusion flashing across his face. “Why?”
Steve grimaces. “Because I might’ve told the Russians your whole name.”
The words hit like a brick. Dustin’s eyes widen as Erica’s head snaps around. Seven nearly misses a step.
“You what?” Dustin demands.
“They drugged me, dude,” Steve says, guilt creeping into his voice despite the defense. Dustin immediately starts whisper-yelling at him, his hands flying through the air as Steve argues back in equally hushed tones. Robin stays out of it entirely, her gaze fixed ahead as if she has absolutely no interest in being involved.
Seven is only half listening as something catches her attention across the mall. At first she isn’t sure what it is, then she sees them — two large men in dark uniforms are moving through the mall with purpose, stopping shoppers as they pass. One speaks to a couple near the mall entrance while the other scans the crowd, his eyes sweeping from face to face. Guns rest openly at their sides, and every muscle in Seven’s body tightens.
“Guys…”
Nobody hears her. Dustin is still tearing into Steve as they move with the crowd, his hushed words clipped with frustration while Steve struggles to defend himself.
“Guys.”
This time, the urgency in Seven’s voice cuts through the argument. The conversation falters and all eyes turn toward her, but Seven doesn’t look at any of them. Her attention remains fixed ahead, her expression falling as she watches the two men moving through the mall. Robin instinctively follows her gaze as the color suddenly drains from her face. Dustin, Steve, and Erica see them too.
“Oh shit,” Steve breathes. The words have barely left his mouth when one of the men — the one with the slicked-back black ponytail — looks directly at them.
For a split second, everything seems to stop, and then Dustin panics. “Abort, abort! Go!”
The group reacts instantly, spinning on their heels and bolting back the way they came, shoving through the crowd as startled shoppers jump out of their path. The noise of the mall seems to swell around them as they race toward the escalators ahead.
Seven risks a glance over her shoulder; the men are coming. Steve does the same and feels his stomach drop as both armed men push through the crowd behind them, their pace quick and relentless.
“Shit! Go, go, go!” Robin yells.
They reach the top of the escalators just as Dustin throws himself over the side. One by one, the others follow, sliding down the smooth metal divider between the two motionless escalators as fast as gravity will carry them. Their shoes scrape against the steel, hands grabbing for balance as they hurtle toward the floor below.
The mall is nearly empty now as they sprint into the center food court, the open space offering nowhere to hide and far too much room to be seen.
“Over here,” Dustin urges in a hushed, hurried voice, motioning frantically with his hand. The others follow without hesitation, rushing behind a closed food counter and crouching out of sight. They all collide together in the cramped space, shoulders knocking into one another as they press themselves against the cabinets behind the counter. The sudden stop leaves their lungs burning.
Seven barely notices, but the moment she drops into a crouch beside Robin, she reaches for her hand and grabs hold of it.
Robin’s head turns toward her in surprise, but Seven keeps her eyes fixed ahead, listening intently for any sign of the men. Without further hesitation, Robin squeezes her hand back.
They can hear soft footsteps around the food court and muttering in Russian, and it doesn’t sound happy. There are at least four men scouring the area now, and the eyes of the one who noticed them earlier just so happen to land on the counter the five of them are all holding their breaths behind.
The man silently motions for the others to be quiet and move in. As they begin making their way over, Seven can feel her chest pounding against her ribs.
She knows she has the ability to do something, yet she’s frozen with fear.
Out of nowhere, an alarm blares from behind the men, drawing all of their attention. A car begins vibrating violently, its lights flashing as the alarm rings throughout the food court as though it had gone off for no reason at all.
Seven’s eyes squeeze shut tightly as she immediately locks onto the car. The recognizable pressure builds behind her eyes, but just as she reaches for it, she feels another pull on the same vehicle. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a brief moment before she focuses harder.
Robin looks at Seven, her eyebrows furrowing deeply. Seven sits perfectly still beside her, eyes still shut as a thin trail of blood slowly slips from her nose. Before Robin can even react, Seven’s head jerks slightly, and the violent crash of the car slamming into a nearby food counter sends everyone jumping and hunching over instinctively.
Everyone except Seven.
When her eyes finally open, Steve is already getting to his feet, Dustin and Erica quickly following after him. Robin lingers for a split second longer, catching Seven quickly wiping her nose and standing.
“What the hell was that?” Erica asks in shock.
Robin’s gaze remains fixed on Seven. “I… have no idea.”
Seven glances at her, drawing in a deep breath before her attention shifts to the car she had just flung across the room, taking out the guards in the process. The lingering confusion remains, however, her mind catching on to the odd pressure she’d felt moments earlier — the unshakable feeling that someone else had been reaching for the very same car. Her eyes travel upward and land on the second-floor balcony of the mall, and Dustin’s gaze follows.
Eleven, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, Jonathan, and Nancy are standing together, and Dustin locks eyes with Eleven, a wide grin spreading across his face. Eleven returns the smile, though hers is much fainter, a small amount of blood visible beneath her nostril. Breathing deeply, her gaze shifts to Seven, and her expression falls.
The confusion from moments ago suddenly makes sense as they stare at one another across the mall. The strange sensation of someone else pulling on the same car, the oddly familiar presence neither of them had recognized in the chaos. In an instant, something wordlessly clicks for both of them.
The group on the second floor immediately begins making their way down, while the others move to meet them halfway. Seven lingers a few steps behind, her attention drifting briefly to Eleven before the moment is swallowed by the chaos of everyone reuniting.
Dustin is the first to reach them. He practically throws himself at Eleven and Mike, wrapping them both in a tight hug. “That was so cool!”
Around them, conversations erupt all at once.
Robin glances back toward the food court. “Someone wanna tell me what happened to that car?”
“El has superpowers,” Dustin tells her casually, pulling away from the hug. Robin’s head turns toward Seven for a quick second, before shifting to Eleven. Only Eleven isn’t looking at her, or Dustin, or Mike — she’s looking at Seven.
“Wait, what?” Robin asks, needing clarification.
“It wasn’t only me,” Eleven says quietly, her voice cutting through the overlapping conversations. An intense mix of emotions floods her eyes as she continues to stare at Seven — confusion, disbelief, curiosity, and something deeper she can’t quite put into words.
The group falls silent, all eyes shifting between Seven and Eleven.
Seven’s gaze catches on the thin trail of blood still pooling beneath Eleven’s nose, left unwiped in the midst of everything. She gulps as she watches Eleven slowly let go of Mike. Without looking away, Eleven begins making her way toward her. A slight limp lingers in her movements, but she keeps going, her eyes never leaving Seven’s. Mike watches skeptically as he watches Eleven approach the stranger.
Eleven comes to a stop just inches from Seven, her breathing unsteady as her eyes search her face. After a moment, she carefully reaches out, her fingertips brushing against Seven’s wrist before gently drawing her hand closer. Seven doesn’t pull away, her pulse thrumming under Eleven’s touch as Eleven turns her wrist over and slowly pushes back the braided leather bracelet resting there.
The faded tattoo comes into view — 007.
Eleven’s breath catches, her fingers trembling slightly as they move over the numbers, tracing each digit as though she needs to make sure they’re really there. The sight seems to knock the air from her lungs, her throat tightening with sudden recognition.
Around them, the rest of the group watches in stunned silence. Dustin’s eyes dart back and forth between Eleven and Seven, equal parts shocked and irritated with himself for not putting it together sooner. Mike looks completely floored, his eyebrows drawn together and lips parted as he stares at the matching numbers. Lucas appears just as blindsided, confusion and disbelief written plainly across his face, while Will can only stare at Seven with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
“Wait…” Steve starts, gesturing between Seven and Eleven as he tries to wrap his head around it. “You’re–you two are the same? Did you fling that car too?”
Seven finally tears her gaze away from Eleven and looks at Steve, then at the others. Every face is turned toward her, waiting. She swallows before looking back at Eleven.
“Yes,” she admits quietly, at last, gently pulling her hand from Eleven’s lingering hold and letting it fall back to her side.
Eleven draws in a shaky breath through her nose. She hesitates before she slowly lifts her own wrist, turning it until it rests beside Seven’s.
Seven’s eyes drift down to Eleven’s wrist, recognizing the faded number — 011.
Her mouth opens slightly, eyes remaining there as Eleven’s tattoo sits side by side with her own. The matching marks stare back at them like ghosts of a childhood neither of them ever truly escaped.
Eleven’s lips press together briefly before she finally speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. “My sister?”
Seven’s throat tightens — the words hit harder than she expects, sending a sharp ache through her chest. Eleven’s expression is so open, so heartbreakingly vulnerable, that for a moment Seven feels like she’s looking at a reflection of herself.
All she can do is nod.
She’s too overwhelmed to speak. Out of all the impossible, terrifying, and downright insane things that have happened over the last few days, somehow this is the thing that leaves her speechless.
For a moment, Eleven simply stares at her, and then she’s moving. Carefully, almost as if she’s afraid the moment might break apart, she lifts her arms and wraps them around Seven’s shoulders. The second her arms settle around her, something shifts. Eleven pulls her in tightly, her fingers bunching in the fabric of Seven’s shirt as she presses herself against her, holding on as though she’s making up for years of not knowing she existed.
Seven stiffens for only a fraction of a second before melting into the hug herself. Her arms come up around Eleven’s waist, pulling her closer as she rests her cheek against the side of Eleven’s head.
Despite the throbbing pain in her leg and the urgency of the situation surrounding them, Eleven doesn’t pull away from Seven. Mike glances at Dustin and gestures toward the two of them, his expression clearly asking what the hell happened and how Dustin somehow managed to find another numbered girl from Hawkins Lab. Dustin can only shrug in response, his eyebrows raised as he realizes he never once thought to investigate the bracelet Seven wears over her wrist.
The others share similarly bewildered looks. Nobody seems quite sure what to say, and for a moment, nobody wants to be the one to interrupt.
Steve eventually caves. As much as he hates breaking up the moment, the reality of their situation is impossible to ignore.
“Uh, not to be that guy, but we should probably get moving. In case, ya know, there’s more Russians.”
Jonathan’s head whips toward him. “Russians?”
“You’re saying those guys were Russians?” Max inquires, alarm creeping into her voice.
“Yes!” Dustin and Steve reply in unison.
Robin looks between all of them, completely lost. “I’m still confused about the superpowers thing.”
Nancy’s attention shifts to her. “Sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Robin, Steve and I work together.”
Nancy accepts that answer with a small nod before looking toward Seven. “And who is she? I mean, besides…” she glances at Eleven, her voice carrying a questioning tone, “El’s sister…”
By now, Eleven has loosened her hold enough to pull back from the hug, but she remains standing close to Seven, her eyes fixed on her face as if she’s afraid looking away will somehow make her disappear.
“Her name’s Sev,” Dustin answers. Then, after a slight pause, his eyes widen slightly as the realization catches up to him. “Well… I guess Seven.”
The statement hangs in the air for a moment.
“We met her at the mall,” Steve adds. “She helped us decipher the Russian code.”
Dustin looks at Mike, throwing both hands up in disbelief.
“Did none of you hear the code red I sent out?”
Mike lets out a short laugh. “Dude, you were cutting out so bad we couldn’t hear shit.”
The conversation continues around them, everyone trying to make sense of information that seems to be arriving all at once. Questions overlap, explanations get interrupted. Nobody has the full story.
In the middle of it all, Eleven begins to drift. The strain she’d been pushing through since arriving at Starcourt starts catching up to her. Another thin stream of blood slips from her nose as the throbbing pain in her leg worsens, forcing her to shift her weight uncomfortably. The voices around her seem to blend together until she can barely separate one from another, and she slowly steps away from the group, lifting her hands to cover her ears.
Seven notices, her attention leaving the conversation the second she sees the change in Eleven’s posture, the distant look in her eyes, and the way she’s beginning to sway on her feet. Concern tightens in her chest as she starts toward her just as Eleven’s injured leg finally gives out from under her. Before she can hit the ground, Seven catches her, wrapping her arms around her and taking most of her weight, dropping to the floor with her.
The movement draws everyone’s attention at once. The conversation dies abruptly as they turn to find Eleven leaning heavily against Seven, eyes shut and breathing unevenly. Mike’s eyes widen as he rushes over to them, suddenly dropping into a crouch beside Seven and Eleven as the others quickly follow, crowding around them.
“El! El, are you okay?”
Eleven groans and forces herself upright slightly, her face twisted with pain as she carefully begins unwrapping the bandage around her leg. The fabric peels away from her shin, revealing the angry wound underneath. For a moment, nobody says anything. Then they see it — something shifting beneath her skin.
“Oh, God,” Dustin grimaces, recoiling.
“What is that?” Erica asks, her voice filled with disgust. Mike leans closer, panic and concern written all over his face as Eleven cries out in pain, the thing visibly slithering in her skin. Around them, everyone begins talking at once, throwing out panicked suggestions and questions as they try to make sense of what they’re seeing.
Jonathan is the first to act. He pushes himself to his feet so quickly he nearly stumbles.
“Keep her alert, alright? I’ll be right back.”
The words are barely out before he’s running toward one of the nearby food stands. He searches frantically through drawers and cabinets until he finds a pair of gloves, a wooden spoon, and a knife. Without wasting a second, he shoves the blade into a stove flame, doing his best to sterilize it before hurrying back.
By the time he returns, Mike is sitting behind Eleven with her back pressed against his chest, supporting most of her weight. Jonathan drops to his knees beside her injured leg and quickly pulls on the gloves.
“Here.” He hands Eleven the wooden spoon. “Bite down on this, okay?”
Eleven takes it with trembling hands and bites down hard. Jonathan gulps, his jaw tightening as he steadies the knife over the wound, bracing himself before carefully cutting into her skin.
Seven can only watch. Her eyes are wide with horror as she takes in the scene unfolding in front of her, her stomach twisting violently at the sight of blood and the sharp scream that tears from Eleven’s throat. Every instinct tells her to do something, to help somehow, but she has no idea what to do. For the first time since finding Eleven, she feels completely helpless. Her face scrunches in discomfort as Jonathan draws a shaky breath and cautiously pushes his fingers into the wound, searching for the creature lodged under the skin.
Seven winces as if she can feel it herself before something tugs at her attention. She glances down to see Eleven gripping her hand. Somewhere in the chaos, she must have reached for Seven without either of them realizing it. Seven tightens her hold, and Mike notices, his eyes flicking briefly to their joined hands before returning to the exhausted girl resting against him.
“Stop! Stop!” Eleven screams, her voice breaking from the pain.
“I can do it myself,” she whimpers as she slowly pushes herself upright. In the process, her hand slips from Seven’s grasp, the separation feeling oddly reluctant despite the urgency of everything happening around them.
“I can do it,” she repeats, more firmly this time. The others exchange uncertain looks, but Jonathan backs away from her leg, lowering the knife and giving her space.
Eleven raises a trembling hand and holds it inches above the throbbing wound. Her entire body strains with the effort as she concentrates, trying to force the creature out using what little strength she has left. The muscles in her arm shake violently, and the longer she pushes, the more obvious it becomes how enervated she is. A groan escapes her before turning into a scream as she forces herself to keep going.
Seven watches from beside her, her heart aching at the sight of her sister struggling.
As the seconds drag on, a dull ache begins to form behind her eyes. At first it’s subtle enough to ignore, but it steadily grows stronger, pulsing in time with the strain written across Eleven’s face. There is something different about it, something unknown. With every passing moment, Seven can feel Eleven weakening. She can feel her powers slipping through her grasp.
The realization settles over her almost instantly. Without allowing herself time to think about it, Seven focuses on Eleven’s trembling hand. Tears gather in her eyes as she reaches out with her own abilities, lending what strength she can. Pressure builds rapidly inside her head, and she feels the cool sensation of blood beginning to trail from her nose, but she doesn’t stop — she helps.
Eleven lets out a raw scream as the creature is finally pried from her skin. The thing tears free from the wound, and she immediately throws her hand outward, flinging it across the floor. The creature lands several feet away as the pressure that had filled the air abruptly disappears.
Seven releases a silent breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The pounding in her head begins to ease, and she quickly wipes the blood from her nose before anyone around her has the chance to notice that she had been helping all along.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Eleven sensed her.
“Holy shit,” Robin breathes.
Eleven releases a shaky, weakened breath as the last of the tension drains from her body. Her head falls forward, her shoulders slumping with fatigue before she slowly turns toward Seven, panting heavily. Her eyes are red and glassy from pain and tears she hasn’t shed, but despite everything happening around them, they find Seven almost immediately.
The noise around them seems distant for a moment. Everyone else is still focused on the creature, the wound, and the impossible thing they just watched happen, but Seven barely notices any of it. Her attention remains fixed on Eleven, and as their eyes meet, something passes between them that nobody else seems to catch.
It isn’t spoken. It doesn’t need to be.
Seven had felt it while it was happening. She had felt Eleven’s strength fading with every second that passed, had felt her struggle to hold on, and had instinctively reached out to help. Now, looking into her eyes, she knows Eleven felt it too.
The terrible realization that the powers that had always been there were suddenly gone. The understanding settles heavily between them, quiet and heartbreaking. Seven’s chest aches as she continues to look at her. The second she first laid eyes on Eleven, she felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility toward her, one that only seems to deepen now that she understands who she is and where she came from. And it’s then that she knows this is where she belongs — right here with her new friends, and her sister.
A sudden, wet crunch shatters the moment.
Seven tears her eyes away as everyone else does the same, their attention snapping toward Hopper, Joyce, and Murray. They stand just beyond the food court, all three looking just as stunned to see the others as the others are to see them.
Eleven pushes herself to her feet as quickly as she can manage before limping toward Hopper. He meets her halfway, pulling her tightly, yet carefully against him without a word. Jonathan and Will hurry to Joyce, wrapping her in a hug as Murray hangs back, giving them the moment. The group gradually gathers at the nearby fountain.
Hopper returns a moment later with a cold ice pack and a drink for Eleven before helping her sit on planter’s ledge. She leans against his side while he gently holds the ice pack to her head. Across from them, Seven settles onto the fountain’s rim beside Robin. Eleven’s eyes find Seven almost immediately, and they linger. Robin draws her knees to her chest, and Seven glances toward her.
“Are you okay?”
Robin looks over, caught slightly off guard.
“Been better,” she admits with an awkward laugh. A faint smile crosses Seven’s face as Robin drops her gaze to her knees.
“Sorry about involving you in all this,” she mutters. “But… hey. At least you found your… sister. Who would’ve thought, right?” She shakes her head, wincing at herself. “Sorry.”
Seven’s eyebrows lift slightly at the rambling apology. “It’s okay.”
Robin keeps her head lowered, though her eyes lift up to meet Seven’s. A small, sheepish smile spreads across her face, carrying the lingering uncertainty of everything that’s transpired since Seven met them. Seven’s smile stays for only a moment before she looks back toward Eleven, who is still watching her.
Around them, everyone begins filling each other in on everything they’d missed. The panic has settled, but the tension hasn’t. It hangs quietly over the group, leaving the food court feeling strangely calm. Hopper notices where Eleven keeps looking, and when his eyes follow hers, they settle on Seven.
“Who’s that?” Hopper asks quietly.
Eleven takes a slow breath. “My sister.”
The words catch Hopper by surprise. His eyes cut from Eleven to Seven, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of what he just heard. For a second, he simply stares, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.
“Your… sister?” he repeats.
Joyce, sitting beside him, turns her head. “What did you say?”
“She was in the lab too,” Eleven says, her voice quiet but certain.
Joyce’s eyes widen. “There’s another one of you?”
Before Eleven can answer, Dustin speaks up from near them.
“We didn’t know either,” Dustin says earnestly. “She was in Scoops a few days ago, helped us with some Russian… then when El saw her…” He gestures between them. “She figured it out.”
Joyce’s attention moves to Seven. The girl is sitting quietly beside Robin, shoulders drawn in slightly, looking as overwhelmed as she is tired. Something in Joyce’s expression softens, and without another thought, she walks toward the fountain and stops in front of Seven. Seven looks up at her, subtle confusion all over her face.
Joyce doesn’t ask permission, she simply leans down and wraps her arms around her. The unexpected hug stuns Seven, and she stiffens for a beat before slowly returning it, unsure of what else to do. Joyce holds her a little tighter.
“Oh, honey…” she whispers, her voice full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
Seven is every bit as awkward as Joyce is affectionate. After a brief hesitation, she gives Joyce’s back a couple of light, uncertain pats. Relief quietly settles in her chest when Joyce finally pulls away. Not because she’d disliked the hug, she hadn’t, she just hadn’t been ready for it.
From a few feet away, Will watches the exchange unfold. When Seven glances in his direction, he offers her a small, apologetic smile that says everything he doesn’t have to.
Yeah… that’s just my mom.
The gesture earns the faintest smile from Seven before she looks away, still trying to process the kindness she’d somehow stumbled into.
─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
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