#shadowofhawkins

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins - Steve Harrington x OC

Hi, so for those who don’t understand, this isn’t a steddie x reader fic, the character is with each one at a different point in time. She is best friends with Eddie and she has a crush on Steve 😊

Synopsis:

Maya Hopper, daughter of Hawkins’ police chief, has always lived in the shadows — of her father, of Steve Harrington, and of a town full of secrets. Best friends with Eddie and secretly in love with Steve, Maya’s innocence is tested by high school pressures, first love, and the cruel twists of fate. As Hawkins faces supernatural horrors and personal challenges alike, Maya must navigate friendship, family, and the terrifying mysteries lurking just beneath the surface — all while discovering who she truly is.

Chapter One:

Word Count: 2,430 words

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beeeeeeep.

The reassuring rhythm of her heartbeat had faded into silence.

My little sister — my Sara — was gone. I could hear everything from just outside her hospital room: murmured voices, shuffling footsteps, the hollow echo of the machine’s final tone. My dad had wanted me by her bedside, but Mum hadn’t allowed it. She always kept me away, always held Sara a little closer. She loved her more — I had always known it. I hated her for that.

But Sara… I could never hate her. Not even then. My dad, at least, treated us the same. To him, we were both everything.

That day at the hospital had changed everything. 1979 — the year our lives turned upside down. Not that we realized then how much further we still had to fall.

After Sara died, Dad and I left. We packed what little we had and moved to his hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. Mum wanted nothing to do with either of us.

So there we were — two ghosts living in a rusted trailer at the edge of a trailer park. There weren’t many kids my age around. I had heard of one boy — two years older than me — who lived somewhere nearby, though I had never met him. All I knew was that he played his music loud enough to rattle the windows… and Dad hated it.

I understood why. He was a grumpy old man. Since Sara died, he had become an alcoholic and brought in a revolving door of women.

School sucked too. I didn’t really have proper friends, except Eddie — the boy who played music too loud. A few people I said hi to, but that didn’t make us friends. I knew Nancy Wheeler because I babysat a boy who was friends with her brother, Dustin, and he had become like a little brother to me since I came to Hawkins. He and his friends. Despite this, Eddie was the only person I was actually close to. We shared our love for music, and he had taught me how to play Dungeons & Dragons, which I then passed down to Dustin and his friends. They loved it.

I guess the only good thing about school was when I shared a class with Steve Harrington or when I passed him in the halls. I had had a crush on him since freshman year, and no one knew except Eddie — and trust me, he gave me hell for it. Oh well. I guess I deserved it.

Well, let’s fast forward a bit to November 1983. I woke up on the morning of the 7th thinking it would be any old boring day in Hawkins. Boy, was I wrong. At least it started okay, though.

I walked out of my room and saw that Dad was still asleep on the couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles and the TV still turned on. I grabbed his uniform and threw it in his face, making him stir awake.

“Wake up!” I said aggressively.

He grumbled.

“You’re late for work,” I added.

“I’m the chief of police. I can do what I want,” he grumbled sternly.

I rolled my eyes and walked away, mumbling about how I was leaving for school. He got up and followed me out onto the porch, lighting a cigarette.

I hated being at home. Dad and I had a rough relationship since he had turned to drugs and alcohol, so I spent most mornings at Eddie’s — which wasn’t all bad, because it meant I made it to school on time.

I knocked on Eddie’s door, and Uncle Wayne answered, clearly just getting back from his night shift at the plant.

“Morning, Maya,” he said, gesturing behind him. Eddie was surprisingly up and ready to go.

“Morning, Uncle Wayne. Hope work was okay last night,” I said politely. I liked Uncle Wayne. He had always been nice to me, and I thought he appreciated that I made sure Eddie got to school on time.

Eddie pushed past him as he went to reply. “It was fine. I hope this one doesn’t cause you any trouble today… I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

Eddie and I jumped into his van and made our way to school.

Once we got there, I went to find Nancy Wheeler. We had been studying for chemistry together. I found her just as she and Barbara were getting to her locker.

“So, did he call?” Barb asked Nancy.

“Keep your voice down,” Nancy whispered loudly.

“Well, did he?” Barb pressed.

“I told you, it’s not like that,” Nancy replied while opening her locker. As she did, a note fell out. I didn’t see what it said, and I let them continue — I didn’t want to interrupt. All I caught of their conversation was something about her kissing someone and Tommy and Carol.

Nancy walked away before I could say anything.

“Hi, Maya,” Barb acknowledged.

“Hi, Barb,” I replied. “Clearly Nancy is too busy making out with someone to take the chemistry flash cards I made for us. By the way… who is she making out with, and why would Tommy and Carol be involved in anything with Nancy?” I added.

Barb looked annoyed, though not at me. “She’s seeing Steve Harrington. And I feel like she’s going to start hanging out with Tommy and Carol and ditch me,” she said.

“Wait… she’s dating Steve? As in King Steve? As in Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes, to all of the above,” she replied.

“Wow. I don’t see it,” I said. I would never admit it out loud, but I was jealous of Nancy Wheeler. I wished it was me who held Steve’s attention.

“I guess I’ll see you later then. I only wanted to give her these flash cards, but she ran off to make out with Steve before I could,” I said, feeling like I had wasted my time.

“I can do it for you. I’ll see her before you do,” Barb said politely.

“That would be great,” I replied, rummaging through my bag to hand her the flash cards before walking to my first class: History with Mrs. Click. One of my favorites — mostly because I shared it with the one and only Steve Harrington, although he was always late.

I sat next to another girl I talked to occasionally, Robin. She liked to talk a lot, and sometimes I thought she enjoyed having someone listen without interrupting. I didn’t know how I did well in class because I spent all my time staring at Steve. Sometimes I thought Robin noticed, but she was too polite to say anything.

The day continued as a normal, boring school day — until I got called to the front office. Dad was standing there.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted.

“What’s going on?” I asked, a little scared. I hadn’t expected to see him there.

“I need to ask you a few questions about Will Byers. I know you babysit one of his friends, and I’m wondering if you were with them last night,” he said. My eyes widened with worry.

“What happened to Will?” I asked.

“That’s not answering my question, kid,” he sighed.

“And you’re not answering mine — what happened to Will?” I snapped before he could respond. He just glared at me.

“Fine. No, I wasn’t with them because they were at the Wheelers all day. Now, what happened to Will?” I said.

“That’s all I needed to know,” he huffed and began to walk away.

“Dad, you didn’t tell me what happened to Will!” I almost shouted.

He stopped and turned. Two words made my world freeze: He’s missing.

Hopper left before I could say anything else. Thank God it was basically the end of the day.

I made my way to the car park. Eddie leaned against his van, smoking, waiting for me.

When I got closer, he bowed dramatically. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”

“Always dramatic,” I said, laughing and shaking my head. Even through the teasing, he could tell something was wrong.

He put his hands on my shoulders and bent down to my level — especially with him being a full head taller than me.

“Woah. We are not going anywhere until you tell me what’s circling around wreaking havoc in that big brain of yours,” he said, staring into my eyes like he could read me.

“Can we talk about it in the car? I don’t want to stay here any longer than we need to,” I asked, defeated.

“You truly wound me, my queen,” he said, guiding me to the passenger side, hands still on my shoulders, and opened the door for me.

I slumped into the passenger seat, trying not to think about the day — about Dad, about Will, about everything. The heat of the van contrasted with the chill outside, but I still shivered.

Eddie started the engine, but didn’t drive. He waited, hand resting casually on the wheel, eyes on me.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Start talking. You’re squirming like a cat in a bath.”

I took a shaky breath, twisting my fingers in my lap. “It’s… it’s everything,” I whispered. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Start anywhere,” Eddie said, voice soft. “You don’t have to fix it while you’re talking.”

“I… it’s Will,” I said, voice trembling. “And… the others… I just feel… like I can’t protect them. I try, I really try, but…” My voice cracked, and I looked down at my hands. “I wasn’t there, and now… now he’s missing, and it’s my fault somehow, even though I—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted gently, placing a hand over mine. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not,” I said quickly, almost snapping. “I know that. But it feels like it. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to make it right. And Dad… he just…” I stopped, tears welling. “I had to fight to get him to tell me. I had to push, argue… practically drag it out of him. I just…”

“You’re scared,” Eddie said quietly, nodding. “You care too much. That’s what’s eating you up inside.”

I nodded, biting my lip. “Yeah. I do. I can’t… I can’t just do nothing. I hate feeling useless.”

Eddie exhaled, squeezing my hand. “Maya… I get it. I know you care. And that’s why you’re freaking out. But you don’t have to carry it alone. You never did.”

I looked up at him, relief and fear twisting together. “I… I don’t even know if I can trust anyone else with this,” I admitted. “I just… I needed you to know.”

He smiled softly, just for me. “You did the right thing. You told me. And now… we figure it out together. One step at a time.”

I let out a shaky breath, curling a little into the seat. For the first time all day, it felt like maybe I wasn’t entirely alone.

The van rolled slowly back into the trailer park, headlights cutting through the dim, overcast afternoon. Eddie glanced at me, his eyes softening when he caught the tremble in my hands and the way my shoulders curled inward.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head, staring at the wind whipping through the streets. “I’ll be fine,” I mumbled.

He hesitated, then said gently, “You sure? I can stay with you tonight… or you can stay with me. Whatever makes you feel safer.”

I forced a small laugh, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “No, I’ll be fine,” I said. “I just… need to get inside and warm up.”

He gave me a long look, like he wanted to argue, then let it go. “Okay. If you’re sure,” he said, his hand brushing briefly against mine before he shifted gears.

I watched the headlights fade behind us as we pulled into my trailer’s small driveway. The warmth inside felt thin, almost too small for the weight I carried. I kicked off my shoes and wrapped myself in a blanket, trying to push away the worry gnawing at my stomach.

Hours passed. Dad didn’t come home. I tried to convince myself he was just busy — out organizing a search party for Will — but the sky had darkened, the wind howled through the bare trees, and the occasional spitting rain rattled against the trailer’s roof and windows.

I paced the small living room, peeking out through the wet glass every few minutes. My stomach twisted with each gust of wind.

By the time the storm really hit, the worry had settled into a tight knot in my chest. I wanted to call Eddie, to ask him to come over, but I didn’t want to bother him. I didn’t want him to see just how small and scared I felt.

I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself, curling into the couch cushions, my thoughts spinning faster than the sheets of rain outside. Every creak of the trailer, every shadow, made me jump. I knew Dad was out there somewhere, but the night felt endless, and for the first time that evening, I couldn’t shake the fear that he might not make it back.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in. My muscles ached from pacing, my eyes stung from crying, and the steady rhythm of the rain against the roof became a lullaby I couldn’t fight. I curled deeper into the couch, hugged the blanket around me, and let my eyelids fall. Slowly, almost reluctantly, I drifted into sleep, the storm raging outside and the worry still clinging to the edges of my dreams.

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins - Steve Harrington x OC

Welcome Back!!!! I’m so excited for you to read chapter 002. I hope you enjoy.

This is the second chapter so if you haven’t read the first it is the previous post on my page, or you can search #ShadowsofHawkins and find everything related to this story

Word Count: 6,551

Chapter 002:

I woke to the gray light creeping through the blinds and rolled out of bed, stretching and rubbing sleep from my eyes. The trailer felt quiet, but I didn’t think much of it — Dad often stayed up late, and mornings like this were usually just him sleeping in his usual spot on the couch.

I went through my usual routine: showered, dressed, and grabbed my backpack. I didn’t bother with breakfast — mornings were always like this for me anyway. I tried to keep my thoughts on school, on the classes I had to get through, on anything that felt normal.

It wasn’t until I stepped into the living room that it hit me. The couch was empty, Dad’s usual spot abandoned. The blankets were strewn across it, tossed carelessly as if he hadn’t slept there at all. The memory of last night’s storm — the wind howling, rain lashing against the trailer, the sky dark and restless — made my stomach twist even tighter. My chest felt heavy, and suddenly the quiet felt too loud.

The worry hit in waves. Not just for Dad, out there somewhere organizing the search party for Will, but for Will himself — missing, unknown, unreachable. I tried to push it down, to keep going, to pretend it was just another morning. But each step, each motion, made the weight in my chest heavier.

I grabbed my backpack and headed out the door, the cold November air biting my face. Every footstep felt heavy, every shadow seemed larger than it should, and I realized that Hawkins had a way of making the ordinary feel dangerous. Today was supposed to be normal. Somehow, I knew it wouldn’t be.

Because no matter what I tried to do — act like everything was fine, keep up with school, smile at friends — it couldn’t be normal. Not when a young boy, Will Byers, was missing. Not when Dad was out there somewhere in the storm, and I didn’t know if he was okay. Not when the weight of everything pressed down on me, making it impossible to pretend that any of this was just another day.

I headed over to Eddie’s like I did most mornings. Uncle Wayne was on the porch, sipping his coffee and having a smoke, giving me a small smile as I approached.

“Morning, Maya,” he said. “Eddie told me what happened yesterday. You holding up okay?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll be fine, Uncle Wayne. Thanks.” I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Eddie was leaning against the van, guitar case slung over his shoulder. I turned to him, and he gave a small nod before moving, carefully loading the guitar into the back of the van. He glanced at me, brow slightly furrowed, that familiar mix of comfort and concern in his eyes — like he could see right through me.

“Morning,” he said quietly. “Ready to go?”

I nodded, climbing into the passenger seat. The van smelled faintly of weed and smoke. The scent, strong and familiar, made me feel… safe. It reminded me of him, of the quiet confidence he carried even when the world was falling apart, and for the first time in hours, I felt a little less exposed.

Eddie started the engine, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, though my voice felt smaller than usual. I kept my eyes on the window, watching the wet streets of Hawkins pass by. I tried to focus on school, on anything ordinary, but it was impossible to shake the worry pressing against my chest.

When we got to school, I followed the usual routine, heading toward the classrooms, nodding to a few familiar faces, pretending everything was fine. Every step felt heavier than normal, every laugh in the halls seemed louder, sharper. Even though I tried to act like it was a normal day, I knew it couldn’t be. Not with a boy missing. Not with Dad still out there somewhere. Not with the weight of everything pressing down on me.

As I made my way down the hall, I spotted Nancy and Barb huddled together near her locker, flipping through the chemistry flashcards I had made. My chest tightened at the sight — part pride that they were actually using them, part frustration that I felt like an outsider to everything else happening around them.

“Hey,” I called softly as I approached, trying to sound normal.

Barb looked up, a small smile on her face. “Hey, Maya. Grab a card — we’re going over these.”

Nancy didn’t look up, absorbed in her notes. “Yeah, check these formulas too,” she murmured, passing a card toward me.

I stepped closer, letting my hands hover over the flashcards before picking one up. My mind tried to focus, to study, but my thoughts kept slipping back to last night — the storm, Dad not coming home, Will missing — and a heaviness settled in my chest.

Still, I recited the formulas quietly under my breath, determined to keep some sense of normalcy, even if the world around me felt completely off balance.

“When alpha particles go through gold foil they become…?” Barb asks

“Unoccupied space” Nancy and I answer at the same time

I was just starting to settle into the flashcards with Barb and Nancy when I heard the familiar clatter of footsteps. Steve appeared first, jogging up the hallway like he owned it, his hair perfectly tamed. I couldn’t help but wonder how he made it look that flawless. Behind him, Tommy and Carol followed silently, their presence looming like shadows.

My stomach tightened instantly. My crush, right there — right in front of me — and I couldn’t look away.

Steve leaned down toward Nancy, holding her flashcards between his hands. “I don’t know,” he said casually, using that infuriatingly warm tone. “I think you’ve studied enough, Nance.”

He took the cards from her, and Nancy frowned, clearly annoyed. “Hey! I wasn’t done!” she said, trying to grab them back, but Steve just smirked and held them out of reach.

I felt the sharp sting of jealousy twist in my chest. My hands fidgeted with my backpack strap, my chest burning, my heartbeat rising.

I tried to focus on the tiles beneath my feet, to force my thoughts elsewhere, but it was impossible. Every glance between Steve and Nancy made me feel small, invisible — like I wasn’t even part of this world they shared.

Tommy and Carol lingered just behind him, silent and smug, letting Steve take the lead. Their quiet presence made the air feel heavier, like I was on display, exposed and powerless. I gritted my teeth, forcing my face to stay neutral, but inside I was twisting with longing, frustration, and the ache of knowing I would never be Nance in his eyes.

“I’m telling you, you got this. Don’t worry” Steve says putting the cards away, “Now onto more important matters, my dad has left town for a conference and my moms gone with him, cause you know she doesn’t trust him…. So are you in?” he asks

“In for what?” Nancy asks confused, I also give a look just as confused as Nancy

“No parents, big house” Carol says like it was completely obvious what was happening

“A party?” Nancy asks

“Ding ding ding” Carol almost shouts. I really don’t like her

“It’s Tuesday” Nancy says and Tommy repeats what she says mockingly

“Come on, it’ll be lowkey. It’ll be just us. You can even bring these two if you want. What do you say are you in or are you out?” Steve asks, the these two he refers to being herself and Barb.

Nancy considers it.

I wanted to shrink into the tiles, disappear, but I stayed put, waiting for Nancy, for her to make it okay again.

Then my eyes caught someone else down the hallway — Jonathan. Will’s older brother. He was busy hanging up missing posters along the lockers and walls. My chest sank.

Nancy’s attention immediately shifted. She walked over to him, chatting quietly as she helped him adjust a poster. That left me and Barb stuck with Steve, Tommy, and Carol — the last place I wanted to be. I stiffened, my stomach twisting. I couldn’t move; I was frozen, waiting for Nancy to return.

She lingered with Jonathan for a few minutes, nodding and talking, before finally heading back toward the group. Steve noticed her approach, flashing that grin, and I felt my chest tighten again. They all eventually dispersed down the hallway, laughing and joking among themselves, leaving me with a heavy mix of relief that Nancy had returned — and dread that the moment had reminded me how small I felt compared to her.

As the hallway emptied, I felt a tug in my chest — a little voice whispering I shouldn’t just go along with everyone else. Dustin, Lucas, Mike… the others. They’d been relying on me to help look out for Will, and now he was missing. How could I just go to a party?

I stopped for a moment, twisting the strap of my backpack in my hands. Maybe I should check on them first, see how they were coping, see if they needed me. That felt like the right thing to do. But at the same time… the thought of Steve, of being near him, of the warmth of being with Barb and Nancy, it was like a magnet I couldn’t resist.

I sighed, trying to weigh the options. I could go home under the pretense of studying, sneak a few moments alone, and then go to the party with Nancy and Barb. Surely, Dustin and the others would be at Nancy’s house anyway — she babysat for her little brother, after all. If they were together, maybe it wouldn’t matter if I went.

I bit my lip and finally nodded to myself. Maybe it was okay. Maybe I could do both — be responsible, check on the kids, and still… be there. For once, I wanted a little normalcy.

So, with that decided, I made my way toward the door, heart pounding, excitement and guilt twisting together. I could feel Barb glancing at me curiously, probably wondering if I’d changed my mind about the party. I gave her a small nod, and she smiled faintly.

As I walked toward the hall, my mind buzzed with anticipation. Soon, I’d be at Nancy’s, the kids would be there, and later… the party. The thought of seeing Steve again made my chest tighten, and I couldn’t stop the flutter of nerves mixed with longing. But first… first, I needed to make sure Dustin and the others were okay.

The final bell rang, echoing through the hallways like a release I didn’t know I needed. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed Nancy out of the building, the weight of the day still pressing on me.

I didn’t even think about going home. Dad was busy, probably out organizing search parties or chasing leads on Will. I knew I’d get no answers from him — and honestly, I didn’t want to bother him anyway.

Nancy and I walked quickly, the crisp November air stinging our cheeks. I followed her to the Wheeler house, glancing down the quiet streets as the late afternoon shadows stretched across the pavement.

Once inside, I headed toward the stairs, thinking of Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. They were Will’s best friends, and with him missing, I wanted to check in — see how they were holding up.

“Hey, guys,” I called softly, leaning against the railing. A few heads peeked over: Dustin, Mike, and Lucas.

“Hey, Maya,” Dustin said, his freckled face lighting up. But there was something… tense about it.

“Everything okay?” I asked, stepping closer.

Lucas shot a nervous glance at Mike. “Uh… yeah, all good,” he said too quickly.

Mike fidgeted with a board game. “Just… talking,” he mumbled.

I crouched beside them, concern tightening my chest. “I just wanted to see how you guys are doing. With… everything. You know, with Will gone.”

Dustin’s smile faltered. “We’re… hanging in there,” he said, but his voice wavered.

“Yeah… just trying not to worry too much,” Lucas added, avoiding my eyes.

Mike swallowed hard, glancing at the others. “And… uh… make sure no one finds her.”

“Her?” I tilted my head, confused.

“Never mind!” Dustin said quickly, waving a hand. “Just… don’t worry about it, Maya.”

I frowned but didn’t press it. “Okay… well, I just wanted to check in. You’re doing a good job sticking together. Keep looking out for each other, alright?”

They nodded, murmuring assent, still whispering among themselves as I stood. I gave them a small, encouraging smile and headed toward Nancy and the rest of the house.

I didn’t know what they were hiding — that there was someone in the house they couldn’t let me see — but I did know this: Will was missing, and everyone was feeling it. My chest tightened with worry, and even though I’d soon be at a party with friends, a part of me would always be here, thinking about them, thinking about Will.

I left the boys at the top of the stairs, still whispering to each other, their nervous energy trailing behind me. My feet carried me down the hallway toward Nancy’s room, each step making my chest tighten.

Nancy was sitting cross-legged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear. I paused in the doorway, listening. I couldn’t hear the other side — Barb’s voice was muffled, distorted through the line — but I could tell from Nancy’s tone and expressions what she was saying.

“Because I don’t want to go by myself…. Barb it’s not rocket science just tell you’re parents we are studying at my place” Nancy’s mouth formed the words, but the tension in her face told me it was Barb who was complaining. Nancy’s voice was patient but firm. “Even Maya’s going,” she said, a slight laugh tugging at her lips. “She doesn’t do parties unless she’s—”

My stomach lurched. She didn’t finish the sentence, and I was thankful. No one needed to know about Eddie, not now. Not ever.

I eased onto the edge of Nancy’s bed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. My stomach twisted with anticipation. Even if Nancy didn’t say it aloud, I knew what she meant — I only went to parties if I felt safe, if someone I trusted was nearby.

“I guess that’s convincing enough for her, huh?” I murmured, forcing a small laugh.

Nancy glanced at me, smirking. “Pretty much. You do have a reputation for not doing parties.”

I shrugged, pretending it didn’t faze me, though my heart pounded at the thought of the night ahead, of the crowd, of Steve. “Yeah… guess I do,” I whispered.

Nancy shook her head, clearly exasperated at the conversation, though I didn’t need to know the details. I nodded, letting my mind drift to the party, the people, the music… and the pull I felt toward the chaos of it all, even while a small knot of worry for Dustin, Mike, and Lucas lingered in my chest.

A few minutes later, Nancy’s mom called us down for dinner. Her voice was warm and steady, and it echoed through the house like it always did. “Dinner’s ready! Come on down, you two!”

I followed Nancy to the kitchen, feeling the familiar smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes hit me first. Normally it would have made me feel at home, but tonight it barely registered. My mind was already running ahead — to the party, to Nancy and Barb after dinner, to the chaos I knew was waiting outside the quiet of this house.

I slid into a chair and stared at the plate of food. I didn’t touch it. My thoughts tumbled over themselves, bouncing between Steve, his laugh, the way he somehow always drew attention, and the pull of the party later tonight.

Across the table, the boys — Dustin, Lucas, and Mike — sat a little too stiffly, glancing at one another as if they were trying to communicate silently. I noticed, but I didn’t say anything. I was too far into my own head, imagining what the party would be like, who would be there, and what Steve might say if he noticed me.

Nancy chatted quietly with her mom, small smiles exchanged over something light and easy, while I sat lost in thought, barely registering the clatter of forks or the scrape of chairs. Even the murmured whispers of the boys didn’t reach me.

Dinner ended. The plates were cleared, the kitchen buzz settling into the low hum of the house. Barb would pick us up soon, but I didn’t think about that yet. All I could focus on was the night ahead, the anticipation twisting in my stomach, the mixture of excitement and nerves building with every passing second.

The ride to the party was short, but every second felt longer than it should. Barb gripped the wheel of her small car, steady and careful, while Nancy rode shotgun, chatting about school, homework, and what everyone else was planning for the weekend.

I sat in the backseat, hands folded in my lap, staring out the window. The streetlights blurred past, casting long shadows that danced across my thoughts. I wasn’t really listening to Nancy and Barb; their voices drifted around me, distant and unimportant. My mind was tangled with everything waiting at the party — Steve, the chaos, Tommy and Carol, and the awkwardness I could already feel pressing down on me.

Finally, Barb eased the car to a stop around the corner from Steve’s house. “Okay, here we are,” she said, peering over her shoulder. “Parked where no one can see us. Good?”

Nancy hopped out of the passenger seat, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Perfect. Come on, Maya,” she called back, already moving toward the walkway.

I didn’t move. My eyes stayed on the street outside, the familiar quiet of the car feeling safer than whatever awaited me on the lawn.

“Nnn… Maya?” Nancy called again, turning back.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I said softly, but my feet stayed planted.

Barb glanced in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. “You okay back there?”

I nodded, though the motion felt empty. “I’m fine,” I whispered.

By the time they reached the front yard, my mind was still in the backseat, caught between wanting to face the party and going home. Nancy and Barb stopped, looking at me, realization dawning on both of them.

“Maya… you’re not coming?” Nancy asked, a mixture of confusion and concern in her voice.

I blinked, forcing myself to move. “I… I’m coming,” I said, trying to steady the nerves twisting in my stomach.

The evening was calm, the streetlights casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t chaotic — just a small get-together waiting for me to step inside. My heart pounded as I realized I’d have to face all of them, even if it was just the six of us.

The closer we get to the front door, the more we can hear the music. Nancy rings the doorbell. Steve opens the door quickly, almost like he was waiting for us, for Nancy.

“Hello Ladies” he says and then leads us through the house to the backyard.

Steve’s backyard was bigger than I’d expected — huge, even. A wide stretch of grass opened up around a large in-ground pool, the water dark and still beneath the patio lights. Lawn chairs were scattered around the edges, some pulled close together, others turned away like they’d been abandoned mid-conversation. A glass table sat off to one side with half-empty cups and a radio playing softly, more background noise than music.

As we stepped outside, Tommy was already at the pool’s edge, laughing as he grabbed Carol around the waist.

“Tommy, stop!” she squealed, half-laughing, half-protesting as he tried to tip her forward.

“C’mon, it’s not even cold!” he said, clearly lying.

Steve stood a few feet away, shaking his head with a grin but not stepping in. Nancy laughed too — not loud, just enough — and it made something twist in my chest.

Barb didn’t hesitate. She veered away from the group entirely and claimed the lawn chair farthest from the pool, the one angled just slightly away from everyone else. She sat down quickly, arms folding in on herself like she was already bracing for the night.

I followed her and took the chair beside hers.

Not because I wanted to hide — but because I didn’t want to be completely left out either.

From where we sat, we were close enough to see everything, close enough to hear snippets of conversation and laughter, but still very much on the outside. I leaned back in the chair, eyes drifting back to the pool, to Steve.

Nancy had settled herself right next to him. Too close to be accidental. Their shoulders brushed every now and then, and she didn’t pull away. There was one empty chair between her and me — a small gap, but it felt enormous.

I shifted in my seat, pretending not to notice it, pretending it didn’t sting.

Tommy finally let Carol go, and she shoved him back with a laugh, threatening him with a finger. Steve said something low to Nancy that I couldn’t hear, and she smiled — really smiled — the kind that made my stomach sink.

I sat there, hands tucked under my thighs, wanting to lean forward, wanting to say something, wanting to be part of it — but not knowing how to cross the space between us.

So I stayed where I was.

Close enough to watch.

Close enough to feel it.

Too far away to belong.

Steve glanced over then.

It was quick — so quick she almost missed it. His eyes flicked from the pool to the chairs, landing on Barb for half a second… and then on Maya.

He hesitated.

Just a fraction. A pause in the middle of nothing.

Their eyes met.

Maya’s stomach flipped, sharp and sudden. She didn’t smile — didn’t trust herself to. She just held his gaze, face neutral, like she hadn’t been watching him for the past five minutes straight.

Steve’s brow furrowed, barely there. Like he was registering something — her being alone, maybe. Or the way she sat a little too straight, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands. His smile faded into something softer, uncertain.

Then Nancy laughed again, louder this time, and Steve turned back to her without another word.

The moment was gone.

Maya swallowed, throat tight, and looked away before the sting could settle fully in her chest. She told herself it hadn’t meant anything. It couldn’t have. Steve Harrington didn’t notice girls like her. He barely noticed girls like Barb.

Still… the chair between them stayed empty.

Barb shifted beside her, glancing briefly toward the pool before leaning closer. “This was a bad idea,” she muttered under her breath.

Maya nodded, even though she didn’t really agree. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Probably.”

But her eyes drifted back to Steve anyway.

Nancy leaned in toward him now, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Maya noticed how naturally it happened, like gravity did the work for them. How Nancy didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink where she stood or how she looked. She just belonged there.

Maya pressed her lips together.

She didn’t want to be Nancy. She didn’t even want to be with Steve like that — not really. Not yet. She just wanted… to not feel like the extra chair. The one no one sat in unless they had to.

Steve glanced over once more.

This time, he didn’t get caught.

His eyes lingered a second longer, thoughtful. Almost apologetic. Like he was aware of the space — the literal one and the invisible one — and didn’t quite know how to cross it.

Maya noticed.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Steve broke away from the group without warning, crouching by the cooler near the pool. Metal scraped softly as he rummaged through the ice, then straightened with a can in one hand and a knife in the other.

Maya noticed before she meant to.

He tilted the can, punctured the side in one quick, practiced motion, then lifted it to his mouth. The beer disappeared almost instantly, liquid spilling down his wrist as he tipped his head back. It was over in seconds. He crushed the can in his fist and tossed it aside like it was nothing.

Nancy watched the whole thing, arms folded, mouth twitching.

Steve flopped down into the chair on her other side, stretching his legs out and reaching for a cigarette from his pocket. He hadn’t even lit it yet when Nancy spoke.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” she asked.

Steve glanced at her, smirking. “You’re not impressed?”

She scoffed. “You are such a cliché, you realize that.”

He laughed, lighter flicking open in his hand. “You are a cliché. With your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band,” Nancy shot back, almost sarcastic.

Steve raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “Okay,” he said, leaning forward and grabbing another can from the cooler. He held it out to her along with the knife. “Party girl. Show us how it’s done then.”

Nancy hesitated, looking at the can like it had personally offended her.

Tommy snorted. Carol leaned closer, curious.

Maya sat perfectly still.

Her hands curled tighter around the armrests of her chair, knuckles pale. She didn’t look at Steve — not directly — but she watched everything anyway. The way he leaned back, relaxed and cocky. The way he spoke like the whole night revolved around him. The way Nancy rolled her eyes but still took the can.

Barb shifted beside her, uncomfortable.

Maya felt it again — that strange mix of wanting to be included and wanting to disappear. She didn’t drink. Didn’t know how. Didn’t even know what she’d do if someone handed her a can and expected her to perform.

She wondered, not for the first time, if Steve even knew she was there anymore.

Nancy turned the can over in her hands, studying it like she was trying to crack a code. “This is stupid,” she muttered.

Steve grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

Maya watched Nancy laugh — really laugh — and felt the space between them stretch wider, even though no one had moved.

The empty chair between them stayed empty.

And Maya stayed exactly where she was.

Steve leaned closer to Nancy, angling the can in her hands.

“You’ve gotta make the hole right in the—”

“I got it,” Nancy cut in, already moving.

Steve lifted his hands in surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright.”

“Yeah,” Tommy chimed in. “She’s smart, you douche.”

Nancy shot him a look, then raised the can. For a second she hesitated — just long enough for Maya to notice — and then she went for it.

“Chug, chug, chug!”

Steve started the chant, Tommy and Carol quickly joining in. Their voices bounced off the fence, filling the backyard with energy. Nancy tilted her head back and committed, finishing before tossing the empty can onto the ground.

Cheers erupted.

Maya smiled, small at first, then wider. It was strange — watching Nancy like this, watching Steve look at her like she hung the moon. But it was also… kind of fun. Like she was finally in the middle of something instead of just orbiting around it.

Nancy grabbed two more cans from the cooler and turned toward them. “Your turn.”

She handed one to Barb and one to Maya.

Maya took hers easily. “Thanks.”

Barb stared at the can like it personally offended her. “Nope. I’m good.”

“Come on,” Nancy pressed lightly. “Just once.”

Barb shook her head, gripping the can but making no move to open it.

Maya hesitated for only a second before taking the knife. Not because she hadn’t done this before — she had, mostly at Eddie’s place, surrounded by loud music and even louder commentary — but because she wasn’t used to doing it here, in front of them.

Still, she leaned forward, focused, and did it cleanly.

“Chug, chug, chug!”

The chant started up again, and this time Maya laughed before tipping the can back. The sound wrapped around her, warm and ridiculous and strangely comforting. She drank, fast and steady, heart pounding more from the attention than anything else.

When she finished, she dropped the can beside Nancy’s and looked up, breathless.

Everyone cheered.

Maya grinned, cheeks warm, a little surprised by how good it felt — to be included, to not feel like the weird extra piece in the corner. For once, she didn’t overthink where to stand or how to react. She just let herself exist in the moment.

Barb still sat stiffly beside her, unopened can in hand, watching everything with quiet unease.

Maya glanced at her briefly, then back at the group — at Steve, especially — and let herself enjoy it.

Just this once.

Eventually, Barb caved.

“Just—just stop looking at me like that,” she muttered, mostly to Nancy, taking the can with clear reluctance.

Nancy brightened instantly. “See? You’ll be fine.”

Barb took the knife, hands stiff, movements careful. Maya watched closely, already sensing this wasn’t going to go smoothly.

“Just make a little hole—” Nancy started.

The knife slipped.

Barb hissed sharply, dropping both knife and can. A thin line of red appeared almost immediately across her thumb.

“Gnarly,” Tommy said, impressed rather than concerned.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked at the same time Maya did, both of them leaning in.

“Yeah,” Barb said quickly, sucking in a breath. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” Nancy pressed, her voice tight.

“It’s fine,” Barb insisted, already standing. She turned toward Steve. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh—uh, past the kitchen, down the hall, to the left,” Steve said, pointing.

Barb didn’t wait for anything else. She slipped inside, the sliding door shutting softly behind her.

For a beat, things were quiet again.

Then Tommy grinned.

Without warning, he shoved Carol toward the pool.

She screamed, arms flailing, before hitting the water with a loud splash — fully clothed. Tommy laughed, took one last drag of his cigarette, and flicked it away before diving in after her.

Maya barely had time to react before the energy shifted again.

Steve stepped closer behind Nancy, hands on her shoulders.

“Steve—” Nancy started.

Too late.

He pushed her in.

She yelped as she hit the water, resurfacing a second later, sputtering and laughing despite herself. Steve didn’t stop there. Before Maya could move, he turned, grabbed her wrist, and shoved her forward too.

“Steve—!”

She squealed as she fell, the cold shock stealing her breath even though the pool was heated. Early November was still early November. When she came back up, hair slicked to her face, she laughed — real laughter, bright and unguarded.

Steve jumped in after them, splashing water everywhere.

Maya treaded water near the edge, watching as Nancy swam toward Steve, shoving him playfully, Carol clinging to Tommy’s shoulders as they laughed together. Two couples, loud and messy and perfectly in sync.

She floated there for a moment, just watching.

And yeah — there was a familiar ache. That quiet, background kind. But it didn’t ruin anything.

Maya smiled to herself, water lapping at her shoulders.

She was glad she came.

For once, she wasn’t standing on the outside looking in. She was here, soaked and cold and laughing, part of the night — even if her place in it looked a little different.

After a while, the cold finally won.

One by one, the five of them climbed out of the pool, water streaming off them as they wrapped themselves in towels pulled from a stack near the patio door. Wet hair, dripping clothes, bare feet on cold concrete — the adrenaline faded fast.

“I’m freezing,” Carol complained, hugging her towel tighter around herself.

Tommy grinned. “Well, I bet his mom’s room has a fireplace.”

“Are you kidding me?” Steve shot back instantly, annoyance flashing across his face. “Absolutely not.”

Tommy didn’t even slow down. He grabbed Carol’s hand and bolted toward the house, their laughter echoing as they took the stairs two at a time.

Steve sighed. “Okay, well — you’re cleaning the sheets,” he muttered after them.

Maya blinked, confusion flickering across her face. She knew what sex was — technically — but the implication sailed just past her. Why would sheets need cleaning? She pushed the thought away before it could spiral.

Steve turned back toward them, towel slung loosely around his shoulders. His eyes found Nancy first.

“Are you alright?” he asked, softer now.

“Yeah,” Nancy said, brushing wet hair from her face.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the house. “Let’s get you some dry clothes.”

Then — unexpectedly — Steve looked at Maya.

“Do you need anything?”

Her heart skipped. He’s talking to me.

“Oh— I’m okay,” she said quietly, clutching her towel a little tighter.

Steve nodded once, then turned back to Nancy as they headed inside. Maya hesitated… then followed a few steps behind them, unsure why her feet were moving at all.

The sliding door opened just as Barb stepped out of the bathroom, a paper towel wrapped around her thumb.

“Nance. Nancy — where are you going?” Barb asked.

Nancy paused halfway up the stairs.

“Nowhere,” she said quickly. “Just upstairs to change. I fell in the pool.”

Barb shook her head, equal parts disbelief and quiet frustration. “Unbelievable.”

“Why don’t you just go home?” Nancy said, almost breezily. “I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance?” Barb’s voice wavered — not angry, just hurt. Like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

“I’m fine,” Nancy insisted. “Just go home.”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

Nancy turned and kept walking, Steve already at the top of the stairs, watching the whole exchange in silence before following her down the hall.

Maya stayed frozen at the bottom step, towel damp and heavy around her shoulders, the air suddenly colder than before.

Something had shifted.

And she wasn’t sure yet what it meant — only that the night had quietly split into before and after.

After a few quiet beats, a door closed upstairs.

The sound was sharp in the otherwise still house.

Maya and Barb both heard it. They turned toward each other, the same realization settling uncomfortably between them.

“If you want to go,” Maya said gently, breaking the silence, “I can stay and wait for her.”

Barb shook her head. “No. I’ll stay. I’m just… going to sit outside.”

Maya glanced toward the dark backyard, then down at her soaked clothes. “I’m going to sit in here. I’m drenched, and it’s too cold out there.”

Barb nodded once and walked toward the sliding door. It opened with a soft scrape, then slid shut behind her, sealing out the night air.

The house felt bigger immediately.

Maya moved slowly into the living room and lowered herself onto the couch, towel still wrapped around her shoulders. The cushions were cold beneath her legs. She curled in on herself, staring at nothing in particular.

Minutes passed.

Then she started to hear things from upstairs — muffled voices, soft laughter, moaning, movement. Not loud, not clear, just enough to make her uncomfortable. Enough to remind her she didn’t quite belong to whatever was happening up there.

She shifted, pulling her knees closer to her chest.

Then — faintly — a sound drifted in from outside.

A scream.

Maya’s head snapped up.

She held her breath, listening. It wasn’t close enough to place. Not sharp enough to understand. Just enough to make her heart thud once, hard.

She stood quickly and crossed to the glass door, pressing her palm lightly against it as she peered out into the dark backyard.

Barb wasn’t there.

The patio was empty. The chairs were still. The pool water rippled gently, disturbed only by the wind.

She must’ve gone home, Maya told herself, even though something about it didn’t sit right.

After another moment, she stepped back from the door and leaned against the kitchen counter instead. The house hummed quietly around her — refrigerator buzzing, pipes clicking, distant sounds from upstairs continuing in uneven waves.

Exhaustion settled over her before she could fight it.

Her head rested against her arms. Her eyes slipped shut.

And eventually, surrounded by a house full of noise that had nothing to do with her, Maya fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@littleemissperfecttt

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins ~ Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter 005:

Word Count: 10,736

The next morning came quietly.

Maya stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down the black dress Hopper had laid out for her the night before. It didn’t quite feel like her—too formal, too heavy—but it was what you wore to a funeral. What you wore when a boy from your town didn’t come home.

Will Byers.

The name sat in her chest like a weight she couldn’t shift.

She pulled on tights, fingers fumbling slightly, then slipped into her shoes. The trailer was silent except for the faint hum of the heater and the sound of Hopper moving somewhere down the hall. Neither of them spoke. There wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t break something open.

As she braided her hair, her mind drifted—unwanted, persistent—to Nancy’s words from yesterday.

We found something.

Something that might help them find Barb.

The thought wouldn’t let go.

How?

What could they have found?

And why hadn’t Barb come home?

Maya stared at her reflection, eyes distant. The funeral felt like a line being drawn—before and after. Will was gone. That was real now. But Barb… Barb was still a question mark, still hanging in the air, unresolved and terrifying in a different way.

If Nancy had found something, it mattered. And if there was even the smallest chance Barb was still out there—hurt, scared, alone—then sitting back and pretending this was none of her business felt impossible.

She grabbed her coat and stepped into the living room. Hopper was waiting, keys in hand, face tight and unreadable. He gave her a look—soft, tired, protective—but didn’t ask if she was ready. He already knew the answer.

When she stepped outside, the cold morning air hit her immediately, sharp and grounding. The sky was pale, overcast, the world muted as if it knew what kind of day this was.

A few trailers down, a door creaked open.

Maya paused.

Eddie stepped out of his trailer, backpack slung over one shoulder, jacket pulled tight against the cold. He stopped when he saw her. For a moment, neither of them said anything—just stood there, separated by distance and circumstance.

Then he lifted his hand in a small wave.

Maya hesitated, then lifted hers in return. Just as small. Just enough.

It wasn’t a conversation. It didn’t need to be. There was something steady in it—an unspoken I see you, I’m here, even now.

Hopper cleared his throat softly from beside the car.

Maya lowered her hand, took one last look down the row of trailers, then got into the passenger seat. The door shut with a quiet click, sealing the moment away.

As Hopper pulled out, Maya looked ahead, the image of Eddie’s wave lingering with her.

After the funeral, she wasn’t going to go home and pretend everything was fine. Whatever Nancy had found—whatever it meant—she was going to help figure it out.

Because Will deserved answers.

And Barb did too.

And this time, Maya wasn’t going to look away.

Hopper didn’t stay for the funeral, he only dropped her off saying he had work to do.

The pastor’s voice carried steadily across the cemetery, calm and practiced, the words heavy with meaning even as they blurred together.

Maya stood beside Nancy and her family, hands clasped tightly in front of her, the cold seeping through her shoes into the soles of her feet. The wind stirred the trees overhead, dry leaves skittering across the ground like whispers. Everything felt muted—colors washed out, sounds distant—as if the world itself were holding its breath.

She tried to focus on the service, on the scripture, on the promise that suffering meant something, that it fit into a larger plan. But her attention drifted.

Her eyes moved across the small crowd gathered around the grave.

Joyce Byers stood rigid, held up more by Jonathan than anything else, her face hollowed out by grief.

And then she saw them.

Dustin. Mike. Lucas.

They stood together a few rows ahead, close in that way only kids are when they’re scared. At first, Maya expected to see devastation—red eyes, shaking shoulders, the kind of grief that swallowed you whole when you lost someone you loved.

But instead…

They were whispering to each other.

Dustin nudged Mike slightly, murmuring something under his breath. Mike pressed his lips together, like he was trying not to smile. Lucas shook his head, eyes bright, not with tears—but with something else. Energy. Certainty. Almost excitement.

Maya frowned.

They looked sad when people glanced their way—heads bowed, faces pulled into something solemn—but the moment attention drifted, it slipped. A grin here. A joke there. Like they were pretending. Like they were trying too hard.

Her stomach twisted.

That’s not how boys act when they’ve lost their best friend.

She glanced back toward the coffin, the flowers piled high, the quiet finality of it all. Will Byers was supposed to be in there. Gone. Finished.

So why did his friends look like they knew something she didn’t?

The pastor continued speaking, his voice fading into a low hum in Maya’s ears. She watched the boys again, this time more carefully. There was tension in them, yes—but not grief. Not acceptance.

Hope.

The realization sent a strange chill through her.

Maya swallowed, her fingers tightening together. Between Nancy’s words from yesterday—we found something—and the way those boys were standing here now, something didn’t add up.

The cemetery suddenly felt less like an ending.

And more like a lie everyone was being asked to believe.

When the service finally ends, the crowd begins to thin—soft condolences, hushed voices, hands on shoulders. Maya lingers only a moment before she spots Nancy slipping away from the cluster of mourners, Jonathan close behind her. Without thinking too hard about it, Maya follows.

They move far enough away that the noise fades, stopping near the edge of the cemetery where the trees thicken and the air feels cooler, quieter. Jonathan pulls a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and spreads it out against the hood of a parked car.

A map.

Hand-drawn. Messy. Lines and circles overlapping like someone had gone over it again and again, trying to make sense of it.

“This is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” Nancy says, leaning in, her voice low but urgent.

Jonathan nods, tapping a spot with his finger. “So, that’s…” He follows the line slowly. “…Steve’s house.”

Nancy’s jaw tightens. “And that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike,” she says, tracing another mark.

Jonathan’s finger moves again, stopping near the edge of the map. “…And that’s my house.”

Maya leans closer, her stomach sinking as the picture starts to form. “It’s all so close,” she says quietly. “I mean… it’s all within a mile or so.”

The three of them fall silent, staring down at the map. The proximity is unsettling—like something circling, tightening its grip without them noticing.

Nancy breaks the silence first. “Whatever this thing is… it’s not random.”

Jonathan nods slowly. “And if it’s been that close to all of us—”

“—then it’s still close,” Maya finishes, a chill running down her spine.

Nancy exhales, running a hand through her hair. “We have to go out there. Find it.”

Maya hesitates. “This thing you saw… the thing without a face,” she says, looking at Jonathan. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.”

“I know how it sounds,” Jonathan says, voice tight. “But I saw it. I know I did.”

Nancy’s eyes harden with resolve. “If we find it… we can’t just run away.”

The words hang there for a moment before she says them out loud.

“We have to kill it.”

Maya’s breath catches. The idea lands heavy and wrong and terrifying—but even as fear twists in her chest, she knows Nancy isn’t saying it lightly.

“It’s a terrible idea,” Maya says honestly. “But…” She glances back at the map, at the way everything overlaps. “…it’s the only one we have.”

Jonathan folds the paper carefully, like the decision itself might tear if he isn’t gentle. “We can’t tell anyone.”

“No one would believe us,” Nancy agrees immediately.

Maya nods. “They’d think we were crazy.”

There’s a brief pause—just long enough for all three of them to think the same thing.

“Joyce would,” Maya says softly.

Nancy and Jonathan exchange a look. They don’t disagree. They just don’t say it out loud.

“After,” Nancy says finally. “Once it’s dead. Once we know for sure. Then we tell her. Then everything makes sense.”

Jonathan swallows, eyes flicking back toward the cemetery where his mother still stands, shattered but standing. “Okay.”

Maya hugs her arms around herself, the cold suddenly sharper. The plan is reckless. Dangerous. Unreal.

But as she looks at Nancy and Jonathan—at the certainty forming between them—she knows one thing for sure:

None of them are walking away from this.

Not anymore.

The cemetery emptied slowly behind her, clusters of people lingering in low voices, but she peeled away as soon as she could, cutting through the trees toward home. The sky was overcast, the air thick and grey, like it hadn’t quite decided what it wanted to do. It matched how she felt—heavy, suspended.

At the trailer, she let herself inside and shut the door quietly behind her.

The funeral clothes came off first. The stiff black dress, the tight shoes—everything about them felt wrong now, like they belonged to a version of the day she didn’t want to stay in. She changed into jeans and a thick jumper, something she could move in, something that didn’t make her feel like she might break if she bent the wrong way.

Then she stood in her room, looking around.

Okay, she thought. If we’re actually doing this… I can’t just show up with nothing.

Her eyes flicked to the closet. Then the dresser. Then the small space under her bed.

A gun crossed her mind for half a second—and just as quickly, she dismissed it. No. Absolutely not. Even if she knew where Hopper kept one, even if she could get her hands on it, the trouble alone would be unbearable. The look on his face if he ever found out would destroy her.

She sighed, rubbing her arms, pacing once.

Then she remembered.

She crouched down and reached under the bed, fingers brushing dust and an old shoebox before closing around something solid. She dragged it out.

An old baseball bat.

It was scuffed and worn, the wood dulled from years of neglect, but it was heavy in her hands. Familiar, in a strange way. She turned it slowly, testing the weight, imagining how it would feel to swing if she had to.

Her stomach flipped.

“This is insane,” she muttered to herself.

Killing something with no face. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist. Something that took Will… and maybe Barb.

But insane or not, it was all they had.

Maya leaned the bat against the wall for a moment and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at it. Her heart thudded, loud in the quiet room. Fear curled in her chest, tight and cold—but underneath it, there was something else.

Resolve.

Nancy’s voice echoed in her head. We found something.

Jonathan’s map. The way everything was too close. Too connected.

She stood again and grabbed the bat, gripping it a little tighter this time.

If they were going into the woods… she wasn’t going empty-handed.

And for the first time since the funeral, since the quarry, since everything started slipping sideways, Maya felt like she was choosing something—stepping forward instead of just being pulled along.

Whatever this thing was…

They were going to find it.

Maya nearly dropped the bat when the knock hit the door.

It was sharp—sudden—and she jumped a full ten feet, heart slamming into her ribs. Instinct kicked in before logic could catch up. She grabbed the bat with both hands and marched to the door, breath shallow, pulse roaring in her ears.

She yanked it open.

Eddie stood there.

The moment his eyes landed on the bat, he froze—and immediately took a step back, both hands lifting in surrender.

“Hey—whoa, okay, it’s just me,” he said quickly, palms out. “Easy, tiger. You’re not gonna hit me, are you?”

Maya blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then the tension drained out of her all at once.

“Oh my god—no,” she said, lowering the bat immediately, mortified. “I—sorry. I thought— I didn’t know who it was.”

Eddie let out a breathy laugh, relief obvious as he dropped his hands. “Wow. Okay. Not gonna lie, that was terrifying for a second.” He tilted his head, eyeing the bat. “Did I interrupt you mid–home invasion fantasy, or…?”

She huffed despite herself. “No. I was just… thinking.”

“Uh-huh,” he said lightly. “With a weapon.”

She leaned the bat against the doorframe and stepped aside. “Do you want to come in? I swear I’m done threatening people.”

He hesitated for half a second—then nodded and stepped inside.

The trailer felt smaller with him in it. Not in a bad way. Just… more real.

Eddie glanced around, quieter than usual. His voice dropped when he spoke. “I heard you went to the funeral today.”

Her chest tightened. She nodded. “Yeah.”

He rocked back on his heels, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “I figured. I just… wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.” He paused, then added, softer, “Or… as okay as you can be.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she looked at the floor, then back at the bat, then finally at him. “I don’t think I am,” she admitted. “Okay, I mean.”

Eddie’s expression shifted—joking gone, replaced with something careful and real. “That tracks,” he said gently. “Funerals tend to do that.”

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Everything just feels… wrong. Like it’s all stacked on top of me and I don’t know which thing I’m supposed to feel first.”

He nodded slowly, like he understood exactly what she meant. “Yeah,” he said. “That makes sense.”

They stood there for a moment, the quiet stretching between them. It wasn’t awkward—just heavy.

Eddie glanced back at the door. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said. “I can go if you want. I just… didn’t want you being alone today if you didn’t have to be.”

Something in her chest softened at that.

“You’re not intruding,” she said. Then, after a beat, “…You can stay. For a bit.”

He gave her a small smile—gentler than his usual grin. “Okay,” he said. “I can do ‘a bit.’”

Outside, the afternoon light filtered through the thin curtains. Inside, with the bat forgotten by the door and Eddie sitting across from her, Maya felt the day pause—just long enough for her to breathe.

And for now, that was enough.

The silence stretched again, but it felt different now. Heavier. Charged.

Maya’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. Her thoughts were loud—too loud. Will. Barb. The woods. The creature. The funeral. Her dad. Nancy. The cafeteria. The bat by the door.

“I don’t want to think anymore,” she said suddenly, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

Eddie looked up at her, surprised—but not startled. “Hey,” he said gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

She swallowed, meeting his eyes. “Everything is just… fear. All the time. And I just—” Her voice wavered. “I need to feel something that isn’t that.”

The room went very still.

Eddie didn’t move closer. He didn’t joke. He didn’t assume. He just looked at her, searching her face carefully, like he was making sure he understood.

“Maya,” he said softly, “are you sure?”

She nodded. Not rushed. Not frantic. Certain. She strode on her tip toes and kissed him.

“Yes.”

That was all it took.

He reached for her hand—not pulling, not demanding. Just offering. She stepped into the space between them on her own, resting her forehead briefly against his chest, breathing him in like an anchor.

Eddie’s hand came up to her back, steady and warm. “We can stop whenever you want,” he murmured. “No pressure. No expectations.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

The world outside the trailer felt far away. The fear didn’t vanish—but it loosened its grip, just a little. For the first time all day, Maya felt present in her own body instead of trapped in her head.

They moved together slowly, deliberately—choosing closeness, choosing comfort, choosing each other in the middle of everything that felt out of control.

The door clicked shut behind them.

And for a while, the worry went quiet.

Eddie took his leave when Maya told him she needed to go somewhere.

Maya reached the edge of the woods a few minutes late.

The air was cooler here, damp earth and fallen leaves underfoot, the light thinner beneath the trees. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, the bat poking out of the top of it, smoothing her hair back with her fingers more than once, like she was trying to put herself back together.

She felt… off. Not in a bad way. Just slightly unmoored. Warmth still lingered beneath the surface — a softness in her chest that hadn’t been there earlier — but it was wrapped now in nerves and purpose.

She spotted them near the treeline.

Nancy stood with her arms folded, eyes sharp and focused, scanning the woods like she expected something to step out at any moment. Jonathan was a few feet away, tense and quiet, setting up bottles and cans on a fallen log.

Maya slowed when she noticed what was in his hands.

A gun.

Jonathan lifted it carefully, jaw tight, and fired. The sound cracked through the trees, sharp and jarring. A bottle shattered.

Nancy flinched but didn’t say anything.

Maya stopped short. “Jesus,” she muttered, heart jumping.

Jonathan lowered the gun immediately, turning toward her. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t know you were that close.”

“It’s fine,” she said, even though her pulse was still racing. “Just… didn’t expect that.”

Nancy stepped toward her. “You okay?” she asked, eyes flicking over Maya’s face, her hoodie slightly rumpled, the faint flush she hadn’t quite shaken yet.

“Yeah,” Maya said. “I’m good.”

It was true — mostly.

Jonathan set the gun down against a tree, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to warm them. “I just… wanted to make sure I knew how it worked. In case we actually find it.”

It.

The word still sounded unreal.

Nancy nodded. “We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Maya looked between them, the weight of it settling back onto her shoulders. The woods felt different now — heavier, like they were standing inside something that was watching.

“So,” Maya said quietly, grounding herself. “What’s the plan?”

Nancy exhaled and pulled the folded map from her bag again, spreading it across a rock. “Same area as before. Between the Byers’ place and Steve’s. If this thing moves… it’s been moving close.”

Jonathan’s jaw tightened. “And if we see it?”

No one answered right away.

Maya glanced deeper into the trees, the shadows stretching long and uneven between the trunks. Her hands curled into the straps of her bag, fingers brushing against the smooth wood inside.

“I brought something,” she said, almost under her breath.

Nancy looked up. Jonathan followed her gaze.

Maya didn’t pull the bat out — she didn’t need to. Just knowing it was there steadied her.

“Good,” Nancy said quietly. “Because if this is real… we’re not leaving unprepared.”

A breeze moved through the trees, leaves whispering overhead.

Maya took a breath and stepped closer to them, into the circle of the plan, the danger, the unknown.

Whatever comfort she’d found earlier was gone now — but it had done its job. It had reminded her she was still here. Still capable of choosing.

And now, she was choosing this.

The light thinned as they moved deeper into the woods.

The sky above the trees had shifted from grey to bruised blue, shadows stretching longer with every step. Leaves crunched softly underfoot, the sound too loud in the quiet. Maya walked a little behind them—not far enough to lose them, just far enough to breathe on her own.

She could still hear them.

Jonathan was saying something about the photos. About how he’d taken them without thinking, about how it wasn’t like that. Nancy pushed back, her voice tight but controlled. The words floated back to Maya in pieces, fragments carried on the cooling air.

Then Nancy laughed—short, humorless.

“Yeah,” she said. “I was thinking, Jonathan Byers, maybe he’s not the pretentious creep everyone says he is.”

Maya slowed slightly, eyes scanning the trees even as her attention snagged on the tone of Nancy’s voice.

Jonathan stopped walking.

“Well,” he shot back, “I was thinking, *Nancy Wheeler—she’s not just another suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does… until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock who now works in sales, and they live out a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac.”

The words landed sharp in the quiet.

Nancy turned on him, face flushed. “Wow. So that’s how you see me.”

Jonathan scoffed. “You asked.”

Maya slowed to a stop without realizing it, her grip tightening around the bat in her hands. She stood there, half-hidden by the trees, listening as their voices overlapped—hurt, defensive, too loud for a place that suddenly felt like it was listening back.

She wondered, not for the first time, how they saw her.

The quiet girl.

The one from the trailer park.

The chief of police’s kid who somehow didn’t fit anywhere—not with the Hawkins kids, not fully with the outcasts either.

She thought about the past few days: the party, staying out all night, Eddie’s trailer, skipping class, standing up to fear in ways she didn’t even recognize herself anymore. Was that rebelling? Or was it just surviving?

Most of it felt normal to her.

Except the parties.

Except this—walking through the woods with a bat, hunting something without a face.

She swallowed and stepped forward again, closing the distance.

“Hey,” Maya said quietly, cutting between them just enough to break the tension. “Maybe… we don’t do this out here?”

Both of them looked at her, startled—as if they’d forgotten she was there.

Nancy exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just—everything’s messed up.”

Jonathan nodded stiffly, jaw tight. “Yeah. Sorry.”

They started walking again, slower this time. More cautious.

The woods grew darker as the last of the light drained from the sky. The air felt heavier, damp and cold, carrying the smell of leaves and earth. Somewhere in the distance, something snapped—a branch, maybe. Or something else.

Maya’s pulse kicked up.

She scanned the trees, senses on edge. Every shadow looked wrong. Every rustle felt intentional.

“You hear that?” she whispered.

Jonathan stopped, lifting the gun slightly—not aiming, just ready. Nancy’s breath caught beside him.

They stood there, listening.

Nothing.

Just the wind.

Just the woods.

But Maya couldn’t shake the feeling crawling up her spine—that they weren’t alone, that whatever they were looking for might already be watching them.

She tightened her grip on the bat, heart pounding, and took another step forward.

Whatever this thing was…

They were getting closer.

A soft, broken sound drifted through the trees.

A whimper.

Maya froze, every muscle locking in place. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the bat as she leaned slightly toward the sound.

“What… is that?” she whispered.

Jonathan slowed, listening. “Probably just an animal.”

Another whimper cut through the air—thin, pained.

Nancy’s breath hitched. “Oh my God.”

They followed the sound carefully until they spotted it—a deer lying on its side near the edge of the path. Its legs twitched weakly, breath shallow, eyes wide and glassy.

“It’s been hit by a car,” Nancy said softly, horror creeping into her voice. “We can’t just leave it like this.”

Maya felt her stomach twist. She took an instinctive step back, the reality of it pressing down on her chest. “Nancy… I don’t think—”

“I’ll do it,” Jonathan said suddenly.

Both girls turned to him.

“I thought you said you couldn’t,” Nancy said, confused.

Jonathan swallowed, jaw tight. “I’m not nine anymore.”

Maya’s heart started racing. This felt wrong—too quiet, too heavy. The woods seemed to hold their breath.

Jonathan lifted the gun with shaky hands. Maya looked away, squeezing her eyes shut, the bat clutched to her chest like a shield.

A sharp crack echoed through the trees.

All three of them gasped.

Silence.

Then—

“What was that?” Maya whispered, eyes snapping open.

They all stared at the spot where the deer had been.

It was gone.

Nancy spun in a slow circle, panic rising. “Where’d it go?”

Jonathan lowered the gun, breathing hard. “I—I don’t know. It was right there.”

Maya’s skin prickled. She scanned the ground, the trees, the shadows. “Do you see any blood?”

Jonathan shook his head. “No. Nothing.”

A wet, rhythmic sound reached them.

Drip.

Drip.

Maya’s stomach dropped. She turned slowly toward the noise.

“Jonathan…?” Nancy said, her voice barely holding together.

A low sound rolled through the woods.

Not a growl.

Something worse.

Maya’s breath caught. “That’s not the deer,” she whispered.

Branches snapped nearby.

Nancy grabbed Jonathan’s arm. “We need to go. Now.”

The sound came again—closer this time.

Something moved fast through the trees.

Maya barely had time to react before a shape lunged out of the darkness.

Nancy screamed.

“Maya—!” Jonathan shouted.

The world erupted into chaos.

Nancy vanished into the trees, her scream cutting off sharply. Maya swung the bat instinctively at empty air, heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst.

“Nancy!” Jonathan yelled, spinning in circles. “Nancy?!”

Maya ran to him, panic flooding her chest. “She was right there—she was right there—”

Another roar split the night, closer than before.

“Nancy!” Jonathan shouted again, his voice cracking. “Nancy!”

Maya’s hands were shaking now, fear clawing its way up her spine. The woods no longer felt empty—they felt alive, watching, waiting.

And somewhere ahead of them, Nancy was gone.

Maya swallowed hard, tightening her grip on the bat.

They weren’t hunting the monster anymore.

The monster had found them.

Maya stumbled through the underbrush, the weight of the bat in her hands suddenly heavy and unreal. Her heart pounded so loud she was sure the creature could hear it.

Maya stumbled over roots and thick, twisted undergrowth, the bat clutched tight in her hands. Every shadow seemed to twitch with movement, and the low, wet growls from before echoed through the distorted forest.

Then she saw it.

A hollow in the massive trunk of a tree, dark and deep, almost pulsating as if it had a heartbeat of its own. The air around it shimmered like heat rising off asphalt—but cold, damp, and wrong. A faint, sickly light bled from the hollow, casting eerie patterns on the ground.

Maya’s eyes widened as she stepped through the hollow. The world around her had changed, but she didn’t know what she was looking at—only that it didn’t belong. The air was thick and heavy, carrying a sour, metallic tang that made her stomach twist. Shadows moved in ways they shouldn’t, twisting and writhing like living things.

Nancy was close, her eyes scanning, lips pressed together in concentration. “Do you see it?” she whispered.

Maya shook her head slowly, gripping the bat tighter. “I… I don’t know what I’m looking at,” she admitted, voice small. “It’s… wrong. Everything’s wrong.”

A soft, wet sound came from somewhere ahead, like something dragging itself over the forest floor. Maya flinched, stepping closer to Nancy. The twisted vines and blackened trees stretched up like fingers, clawing at the gray, misty sky.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Maya whispered, her eyes darting from one grotesque shape to another. She could feel the weight of the place pressing down on her chest, each step forward feeling heavier than the last.

Nancy’s hand brushed hers briefly—a silent anchor. “We just have to keep moving,” she said. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Maya nodded, though fear throbbed through her. She couldn’t name what she was seeing, couldn’t put her mind around it. It wasn’t an animal. It wasn’t human. But it was there, and it was alive, and it was watching.

She swallowed, taking a deep breath, and stepped further into the alien forest, bat raised and heart pounding. Every sound, every shadow made her flinch—but she kept moving, because standing still here wasn’t an option.

The unknown waited ahead, and she didn’t know what it wanted—but somehow, she knew they had to face it.

Maya’s heart thudded as another roar echoed through the twisted trees. She grabbed Nancy’s arm, pulling her forward.

“Jonathan!” Maya shouted, her voice raw, cracking. “Jonathan!”

In the distance, a shout answered them—Jonathan’s voice, panicked, calling their names. But the sound seemed warped, like it was bouncing off the wrong surfaces. The woods weren’t right—everything looked familiar, yet… darker. The colors were muted, gray creeping into even the green of the leaves. Shadows stretched longer than they should, twisting unnaturally.

Nancy’s grip tightened on Maya’s hand. “We have to find him,” she said, voice trembling. “He’s out there… somewhere.”

They ran, the bat swinging loosely in Maya’s hands. Each step sank slightly into the cold, damp ground, roots and vines snagging at their shoes. The distorted forest seemed endless, like it stretched further than it should have, folding in on itself.

And then they saw it.

The deer—mangled, broken—its body half-dragged into the shadows. And feeding on it, the creature’s shape was horrific: tall, black, slick, and wrong in every way. Its limbs moved like they had too many joints, its head twisted unnaturally as it tore into the carcass.

Maya froze, a scream catching in her throat. Nancy stumbled into her side. “Oh God… oh God…”

They turned back the way they came, the trees now seeming to stretch impossibly high, the path twisting. “Jonathan!” Maya screamed again, panic bubbling over. “Jonathan!”

The creature lifted its head, clicking and snuffling, and the air seemed to vibrate with a low, guttural hiss. Shadows flickered across the forest floor, dancing with a life of their own. Maya’s chest felt tight; fear coiled in her stomach.

Nancy grabbed her arm. “We have to get out… we have to find a way back!”

Branches tore at their clothes and hair as they ran blindly, shouting Jonathan’s name. The forest seemed alive, watching, shifting around them. Every step they took, it felt like the ground wanted to swallow them, the shadows reaching.

Maya’s mind spun. This wasn’t Hawkins. This wasn’t the woods. This wasn’t reality. But it was terrifyingly real.

“Jonathan!” they screamed together, voices raw and echoing off the wrong places. The creature’s guttural feeding sounds faded behind them, but the fear remained, sharp and gnawing, and the sense that this world wasn’t just darker—it was alive.

Maya stumbled over a twisted root, almost falling, but Nancy caught her. They clutched each other, bat swinging uselessly, and kept running. They couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not until they found Jonathan—and maybe, somehow, a way back.

Maya and Nancy ran through the warped forest, their voices raw from calling Jonathan’s name. Each shout echoed strangely, bouncing off twisted shadows that weren’t supposed to be there. The ground rose and fell beneath their feet, roots snagging their shoes, branches clawing at their arms and faces.

“We have to keep going!” Maya gasped, fear twisting her stomach into knots. “Jonathan!”

Nancy’s voice was frantic too, desperate. “He’s close, I know it! Keep moving!”

They followed the faint, strained cries of Jonathan, weaving through the shadows like ghosts themselves. Every tree seemed to lean closer, every shadow stretching unnaturally, but finally—they saw it: the hollow trunk, gaping like an open mouth.

“Here!” Nancy shouted, pointing.

They dropped to their knees and began crawling through the narrow opening. Nancy went first, slipping into the darkness like a shadow herself. Maya followed, squeezing through the tight space, scraping her hands against the rough bark. Her heart hammered in her chest, and every scrape felt magnified in the stillness.

Finally, she emerged on the other side and froze.

Jonathan was sitting against a tree, cradling Nancy in his arms. Her face was pale, but her breathing was steady. Maya’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in her body releasing just enough to let her rest against the tree.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. They simply sat there, catching their breath, listening to the soft rustle of the forest, the world around them impossibly still.

Maya’s grip on the bat loosened. She glanced at Nancy and Jonathan, seeing them both quiet, stunned, and alive. That alone was enough for now.

The three of them remained like that, huddled in the shadow of the tree, letting the silence carry them, letting themselves just be—for a brief, fragile moment—still here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@littleemissperfecttt

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins ~ Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter 003:

Word Count: 5,574

Maya woke to the sound of movement.

At first, she thought it was part of a dream — the low hum of a house settling, footsteps somewhere nearby. Her head felt heavy, her neck stiff from sleeping in a position that definitely wasn’t a bed. When she shifted, the couch creaked beneath her.

That’s when it hit her.

She wasn’t home.

Her eyes flew open.

The living room came into focus slowly — pale morning light spilling through the windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. The towel she’d fallen asleep in had slipped off one shoulder during the night. Everything smelled faintly like chlorine and stale beer.

“Oh—”

She startled.

Steve Harrington stood a few feet away, keys dangling loosely from his hand. He looked just as surprised as she felt.

“Oh—shit,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—uh—sorry. I didn’t know anyone was still here.”

Maya pushed herself upright too fast, heart pounding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I just—”

They stopped talking at the same time.

Steve’s eyes flicked to the couch, then to her damp hair, the towel. Realization settled across his face.

“You… stayed?” he asked, quieter now.

She nodded. “Barb left. I didn’t really have a ride.” She hesitated, then added, softer, “I was waiting for Nancy.”

Something shifted in Steve’s expression — not shock, not defensiveness. Just a flicker of understanding, and maybe guilt.

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Right,” he murmured. “I should’ve checked.”

“It’s okay,” Maya said quickly. “I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

A beat passed.

“Where’s Nancy?” she asked.

The question slipped out before she could stop it. Careful. Casual. Like she already knew the answer.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Nancy’s not—” He stopped himself, then shook his head. “She went home. Middle of the night. I was asleep.”

The words landed harder than Maya expected.

“Oh,” she said.

She didn’t ask how. Or why. Or when exactly.

A silence stretched between them.

Steve cleared his throat and reached for a hoodie draped over the back of a chair. He held it out to her without even really thinking about it. “You can—uh—put this on if you want. It’s cold.”

She took it, fingers brushing his for half a second. The contact made her stomach flip.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

She took it, fingers brushing his for a second. The fabric was warm, soft. When she pulled it over her head, the smell hit her — clean laundry, faint chlorine, and something unmistakably him.

Her chest tightened.

“I’ll give it back,” she said quickly, tugging the sleeves down over her hands. “I promise.”

Steve blinked, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “You don’t— I mean, it’s fine.”

“Still,” she said quietly. “I will.”

Another pause settled between them.

“My parents won’t be back until tonight,” Steve said, unnecessary but automatic. “I can drive you home. Or wherever.”

“Home’s fine,” Maya replied.

As they moved toward the door, Maya risked a glance back at the staircase — the place where everything had shifted last night. Steve noticed.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“I’m… sorry,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “About… stuff.”

She didn’t know what he meant exactly. Maybe he didn’t either.

“It’s okay,” she said anyway.

But it didn’t quite feel like it.

And as Steve opened the door and the cold November air rushed in, Maya knew one thing for certain—

Whatever she thought that night had been, whatever she thought she understood…

She didn’t.

And the day ahead was already heavier because of it.

The drive was quiet.

Steve kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel. Maya sat in the passenger seat, his hoodie pulled around her shoulders, staring out the window as the streets passed by. Everything looked too normal for how off she felt.

She shifted slightly, fingers brushing the sleeve of the jumper. She paused, then turned her head and looked at him.

Steve glanced over for half a second before looking back at the road.

Nothing was said.

A few more blocks passed in silence.

Steve pulled up outside the trailer and turned the engine off.

“Thanks,” Maya said quietly, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Of course. I’ll see you at school,” he added with a small, almost shy smile.

She nodded, stepping out and shutting the door, standing there as the car pulled away and disappeared down the road. The morning felt too still, like it was holding its breath.

Maya turned toward the trailer, the hoodie still wrapped around her, and headed inside.

I pushed open the trailer door and froze for a moment. Hopper was there. Not just in the living room where he usually parked himself late at night, but fully dressed in his uniform, sitting on the edge of the couch like he’d been waiting. My stomach twisted.

“Dad,” I said quietly, surprised. I hadn’t expected him to be home.

“I thought maybe you’d been at Eddie’s… all night,” he said slowly, eyes sharp but not harsh, a small crease between his brows. His tone carried that careful edge of worry — not panic, just… watchfulness.

I shook my head. “No… school. Friends. You were home?” My voice was small, catching on the last part.

Hopper’s eyes flicked to the hoodie I still had on, the faint smell lingering. “That’s… not Eddie’s,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” I said, shrugging slightly. “It’s Steve’s.”

He leaned back, arms crossed, studying me. “Okay. Just… don’t make it a habit, alright?”

I nodded, ignoring the warmth that spread in my chest. I didn’t want to linger—I just needed to change.

We sat there for a few minutes, silence stretching in that way only familiarity allows. Then, just as I was loosening the hoodie and preparing to head to my room to change, there was a sharp knock at the front door.

I jumped slightly, and Hopper’s gaze followed mine. “Go see who it is,” he said, his tone more curious than commanding.

I opened the door to find Eddie leaning against the frame, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. “You didn’t swing by my place to drop by?” he asked, a hint of mock annoyance in his voice.

“I… I didn’t,” I admitted, stepping aside to let him in. “I was at Steve’s.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh yeah? Believe me, I saw you pulling up here in Harrington’s car.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You… saw me?”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling. “No big deal. Just thought you should know I noticed.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool. “Good to know.”

He shrugged, still smirking. “Anyway, just making sure you didn’t ditch me or anything.”

Hopper cleared his throat behind me, shifting slightly on the couch. Eddie gave him a nod, casual but respectful, then turned his attention back to me.

I swallowed, tugged my hoodie closer, and whispered, “I’ll change and then we can head to school.”

Eddie gave me a small smile, like he understood without needing words. Hopper’s eyes softened for a brief moment, then he looked back at his coffee mug. The moment passed.

I headed towards my room, heart still thudding, knowing that today — just like every day lately — was a careful balancing act between school, friends, and all the things happening out in the world.

We climbed into Eddie’s van, the familiar hum of the engine comforting against the chill of the morning. I settled into the passenger seat, pulling my backpack onto my lap, still adjusting to the weight of Steve’s hoodie draped over my shoulders.

Eddie started the engine, and for a moment, the road stretched ahead in quiet. But that quiet didn’t last long.

“So…” Eddie began, one eyebrow raised, “you spent the night at Steve’s… and somehow, he drove you home?”

I glanced at him, trying to keep my face neutral, but I could feel a faint blush creeping up my neck. “Yeah… it’s not what it looks like,” I muttered, more defensive than I intended.

Eddie snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not what it looks like? Maya… I saw the whole thing in my head. You, Harrington’s car, pulling up to your trailer, all cozy and… whatever. And he just… drove you home. Man, this is wild.”

I rolled my eyes, though a small smile slipped out despite myself. “It was just… a party. That’s all.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “A party. Right. Nothing more to see here. Totally normal. I’m fine.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Wow. I can’t even… I don’t even know how to process this. You, and Harrington, … just you falling asleep at his house him driving you home. This is insane.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a little, despite the lingering nerves in my chest. “Eddie… it’s really not a big deal,” I said softly.

“Not a big deal?” he echoed, eyes wide. “Maya, my brain just short-circuited.”

I shook my head, leaning back, letting the hoodie cocoon me in warmth. “You worry too much,” I said, more gently this time.

He glanced at me, still smirking, but something softer flickered in his eyes. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But seriously… next time, I need a heads-up if I’m going to see something as unbelievable as you and Harrington in the same place other than school.”

I laughed again, letting my shoulders relax. Somehow, with Eddie’s teasing and that small bubble of safety in the van, the morning didn’t feel quite so heavy.

When they arrive at school, Nancy finds here and asks if she’s seen Barb since she hadn’t seen her all morning or heard from her.

“Hey, Maya have you seen Barb?” Nancy asks

“No, not since she went home last night…. Speaking of — you went home without me, I was waiting on Steve’s couch so we could go back to your place and then I wake up there this morning” I say to her

Nancy doesn’t even apologise, too worried about Barb to think about how she left Maya behind. She didn’t realise Maya was still there. She walks way to keep looking for Barb without saying anything else to Maya.

By lunchtime, Maya had made it to the cafeteria and slid into the edge of the table where Nancy sat. Nancy poked at her lunch, her eyes down, tracing patterns in the plastic tray, but Maya could tell she wasn’t really eating. Her brow was furrowed, hands fidgeting slightly. She hadn’t seen Barb all day, and the worry was written across her face.

Steve sat beside Nancy, leaning back slightly, arms crossed, quiet but watching. He didn’t say a word, but Maya felt the weight of his presence, familiar and impossible to ignore.

Maya tried to stay invisible, keeping her gaze fixed on her own food. She convinced herself that if she stayed quiet, maybe the embarrassment of last night would fade.

Then Tommy and Carol appeared, leaning against the table like they owned the room. Maya’s stomach sank.

“So,” Carol said, grinning, “you stayed downstairs, huh?”

Maya froze.

“The whole time,” Tommy added, smirking.

Maya’s chest tightened. She realized immediately — Steve must have told them. He hadn’t meant to, not really, but that casual comment last night about her staying downstairs must have slipped.

Carol leaned closer, voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “Yeah… this freak was sitting downstairs listening to us having sex last night.”

Tommy smirked, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, of course she’s a freak — she hangs around with that other freak, Eddie Munson, all the time.”

Heat flooded Maya’s cheeks. Her stomach twisted painfully. She realized everyone at the table — and probably a few beyond it — had heard. Laughter rippled across the cafeteria, whispers trailing in its wake.

Maya’s eyes darted to Nancy. Her friend’s hands were still folded over her lunch, her expression tight, worried — but not for Maya. Nancy’s worry for Barb left her silent, leaving Maya completely exposed.

Tommy smirked. “It’s okay, right? She probably didn’t even understand what she was hearing.”

Carol laughed, louder this time. “Poor thing.”

Maya’s chest felt like it was caving in. The cafeteria lights were harsh, the faces around her blurring together. Her thoughts scattered, a chaotic storm of humiliation and disbelief.

Before anyone could say another word, she shoved her tray aside and bolted. The tiles of the cafeteria were hard under her shoes as she ran, her tears blinding her. By the time she reached the bathroom, she pressed herself against the wall, letting them fall freely.

She didn’t know how she was going to face anyone ever again. She only knew one thing: she needed to get out.

By the time she reached the bathroom, Maya’s hands were trembling. She pressed her palms against the cool tile, the shock of it grounding her for half a second. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright, too unforgiving. Somewhere nearby, sinks ran and lockers slammed, but it all sounded distant—muted—like she’d slipped into a world slightly removed from everyone else.

She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled tightly to her chest, her head resting on folded arms. Her breathing came in uneven bursts, shallow and fast. No matter how hard she tried to stop it, the cafeteria replayed itself over and over in her head: Tommy’s smirk. Carol’s voice—loud, deliberate. The way heads had turned. The laughter.

And Nancy.

Nancy sitting there. Silent. Not looking at her. Not saying a word.

Maya’s stomach churned, a heavy pressure settling in her chest like something was caving in. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing—desperately—to vanish. To slip into the cracks of the tile. To become invisible. Anything but this: a punchline, a spectacle, something people whispered about.

She forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

Again.

She focused on the floor, counting the tiles, tracing the thin cracks between them with her eyes. Anything to slow the pounding in her chest.

“I can’t…” she whispered, the words barely audible beneath the hum of the lights. “…I can’t go back out there.”

The thought alone made her throat tighten.

But she also knew—somewhere deep down—that she couldn’t stay here forever. As much as she wanted to disappear, there was still that small, stubborn part of her that wanted things to feel normal again. That wanted to belong. That wanted her friends.

Maya pressed her forehead to her knees and let the tears fall. She didn’t wipe them away. She let herself feel it—the embarrassment, the hurt, the sting of being seen in the worst way—hoping that if she let it wash over her now, it might eventually loosen its grip.

It hurt.

But she told herself, quietly, that it wouldn’t hurt like this forever.

Back in the cafeteria, the aftermath lingered like a shadow. Nancy sat frozen, poking at her tray, realization dawning far too late. She hadn’t defended Maya. She hadn’t even looked her way when Tommy and Carol had spoken—loud, cruel, and deliberate. Steve’s expression had shifted too, eyes flicking toward Maya when the words landed, guilt tightening his jaw. He had known, of course he had, but he hadn’t stopped it. He hadn’t said anything, and that weight pressed down on him now, heavier than he wanted to admit.

Around the table, the whispers continued. A few nearby students exchanged looks, smirks tugging at their lips. The echo of Carol’s words—sharp, loud, unforgettable—lingered. The cafeteria felt smaller somehow, tighter, more suffocating.

Outside the chaos, Eddie had been walking past, backpack slung over one shoulder, when he caught sight of her. He saw the moment she bolted, tray abandoned, tears streaking down her face. He didn’t hear the words clearly, but the look on her face said everything.

Without thinking, he hurried toward the bathroom, calling softly, “Maya?” His voice cut through the hum of the hall, gentle but urgent.

Maya froze at the sound, heart hammering. She wanted to disappear, to hide forever, but Eddie’s presence—a reminder that someone cared, that someone saw her differently—pulled her just slightly back from the edge.

Eddie reached the door, peering in. His eyes softened when he saw her slumped on the floor, trembling. “Hey… are you okay?” he asked, voice low, careful.

Maya didn’t respond immediately. She blinked up at him, swallowing hard. The lump in her throat made speech impossible. But Eddie didn’t rush her. He just stayed there, leaning lightly against the doorframe, letting her gather herself.

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by the distant noise of the cafeteria and the shame still clinging to her skin, Maya realized that someone had noticed. That maybe she didn’t have to face everything alone.

Maya blinked up at him, swallowing hard. Words felt impossible; the lump in her throat made even breathing feel heavy. She wanted to disappear, wanted to vanish into the floor, but Eddie didn’t push. He just waited, letting her gather herself.

After a few moments, she managed a small, shaky nod.

Eddie’s expression softened. “Alright,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to deal with this right now.”

Gently, he held out a hand. Maya hesitated, then placed hers in his. It felt strange—comforting, solid—and she allowed him to help her to her feet.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eddie said. “Skip the rest of the day. Trust me.”

Maya’s chest tightened. She wanted to protest, to say she had to stay, had to face everyone, but the idea of lingering in the cafeteria, under those eyes, made her feel like she might collapse. She didn’t argue. She let him guide her toward the door, his presence a steady anchor.

They walked quickly down the hall, moving past the chatter, past the stares and whispers that followed them like shadows. Maya kept her gaze down, pressed close to Eddie, and felt the tension in her shoulders slowly begin to loosen.

Outside, the crisp November air hit her cheeks, cold and clean. She inhaled sharply, the chill cutting through the heaviness that had settled in her chest. Eddie kept a hand on her shoulder as they walked toward his van parked near the edge of the lot.

“Don’t worry,” he said as they climbed in. “We’ll figure out something. No one needs to know. Just… breathe.”

Maya exhaled slowly, letting the sound shake out some of the panic that had been coiled inside her. For the first time in hours, she felt a flicker of relief. Someone was with her. Someone understood, even if just a little.

The van rumbled to life, and as Eddie eased it out of the lot, Maya sank into the seat, letting herself feel small, safe, and understood, if only for a little while.

They pulled up to Eddie’s trailer, the familiar peeling paint and cluttered yard strangely comforting. Eddie glanced at her, reading the tension coiled in her shoulders.

“I’m going to give you a moment,” he said quietly. “Alone in the van. Take a breath.”

He stepped out, leaving the front door open. Maya exhaled shakily, letting her head rest against the seatback. The van was quiet, still smelling faintly of smoke and old vinyl. She closed her eyes and let herself shiver.

By the time she was ready to get out, Eddie was already leaning against the doorway, one eyebrow raised.

“Hey,” he said softly, noticing her flushed face and trembling hands. “You okay?”

She shook her head, voice barely audible. “No.”

He stepped aside without a word. The trailer smelled faintly of incense, old records, and smoke — quiet, safe, familiar. Maya dropped onto the couch, curling slightly into herself.

“I… I don’t even know how to explain it,” she admitted, voice breaking.

“Start anywhere,” Eddie said, perched on the edge of the counter, arms folded. “I’ve got time.”

She drew a shaky breath. “It’s… the party last night. I stayed downstairs on the couch because I didn’t want to go upstairs, and I heard them… Steve and Nancy, Tommy and Carol… noises I didn’t understand. I… I don’t know what they were doing. And they laughed. Carol said something like… ‘this freak was sitting downstairs listening to us having sex.’ Tommy laughed. Everyone laughed. And I… I don’t even know what that means. I don’t understand why I feel… wrong.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened, his frown deepening. “That’s… awful. I’m sorry they did that to you.”

“I know it’s not my fault,” she said quickly, words tumbling out. “But I can’t stop thinking about it. I just… feel stupid, embarrassed, angry… and confused. I don’t get it.”

Eddie exhaled slowly and slid down from the counter to sit beside her on the couch. Not too close — just steady, a presence she could lean on if she wanted.

“You’re not stupid,” he said gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just… felt something you didn’t understand. That’s normal.”

She sniffled, pressing her knees closer to her chest. “I hate feeling stupid. I hate feeling… left out. Like I don’t belong.”

He studied her, softening. “I get it. I know what you mean.”

She stayed silent, head down, hopeless in the way only Eddie could read.

“Well,” he said carefully, voice low and steady, “if you want to understand… maybe I can show you. Only if you want to. Not because anyone told you to. Not because of them.”

She blinked. Relief, fear, and trust tangled inside her. She wasn’t asking for anything — she just wanted someone to understand. Eddie understood. He gave her the space to decide. He didn’t push. He didn’t assume. He just let her be.

That night, in the quiet of Eddie’s trailer, something shifted. Something gentle, uncertain. Something she would carry forward in silence, heavy with curiosity and consequences she didn’t yet understand.

When she left, the trailer door clicked softly behind her. Outside, the world felt sharper, colder, and somehow bigger than it had before. She didn’t yet know how much this night would follow her — into Christmas, into conversations with her father, into choices she hadn’t imagined.

But she knew one thing: Eddie understood.

And that, somehow, made everything feel heavier.

Taglist:

@littleemissperfecttt

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins ~ Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter 004:

Word Count: 4,692

The sun spilled weakly through the blinds, painting stripes across Maya’s bedroom floor. Her alarm hadn’t gone off—she hadn’t set one—but the weight of the day before pressed on her chest like a stone, and she woke anyway.

For a moment, she just lay there, tangled in the blankets, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was quiet at first, but then fragments came rushing back: the cafeteria, the laughter, the whispers, Eddie’s hand steadying hers, the smell of his trailer. Her chest tightened at the memory, and she let out a shaky breath.

The thought of everything that happened yesterday at was gone, but the memory of what happened with Eddie last night, it lingered, soft and warm, like a shield she hadn’t realized she needed.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, feet touching the cold floor. The quiet house felt different this morning—too still, almost waiting.

The sound of the trailer door echoed faintly, making her jump. She froze, heartbeat pounding, before she realized it was probably Hopper leaving for work. She could hear him moving in the kitchen, the clatter of a coffee mug, the scrape of a chair.

She pulled on jeans and a hoodie, the mundane routine grounding her. Today, she had to face school again. She wasn’t ready, but she had no choice.

When she stepped outside, the air was crisp and sharp, the kind that made your lungs wake up and your thoughts sharpen. The world looked the same, but she knew it wasn’t. She carried yesterday with her—like a shadow at her heels, heavier than the backpack on her shoulders.

And somewhere, far away but present, she knew Eddie would still be thinking of her too, even if she didn’t see him this morning.

Maya paused at her bedroom door, pulling her hoodie ‘Steve’s hoodie’ tighter around her shoulders. Hopper was home—just like she thought he would be—but the moment she saw him, something prickled in her chest.

He wasn’t standing casually, or relaxed like he sometimes did on a morning before work. His uniform was rumpled, his shoulders slumped, eyes heavy. There was a stiffness in the way he held himself, a weight she couldn’t place at first—but then she saw his face.

Tired. Broken. Hollow.

“Dad?” she asked softly, unsure.

He lifted his gaze, meeting hers, and for a moment the usual calm in his eyes was gone. Something raw and sharp had taken its place. He gestured her over, voice low. “Maya… come here. I—uh… I wanted to tell you in person.”

Her stomach churned. “Tell me what?”

He hesitated, drawing in a slow breath as if bracing himself. His hand rested briefly on the doorframe, gripping it as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “Last night… they found him.”

Her heart stuttered. “Found who?”

Will. She didn’t even have to say the name; it hovered between them, heavy and impossible.

Hopper’s jaw tightened. “Will Byers… they found him in the quarry. Last night.”

The words hit her like ice water. The room seemed to tilt, the trailer suddenly too small, too quiet. She felt a cold ache in her chest, and her hoodie felt heavier, as if it were trying to weigh her down.

Hopper stepped closer, voice gentle but firm. “I wanted to tell you myself… so you wouldn’t hear it from anyone else. I—” His eyes flicked to the clock, then back to her. “—I have to get back to work soon, but I needed you to know first.”

Maya’s lips parted, but no sound came. The world felt impossibly still. Outside, the morning sunlight seemed to carry none of its usual warmth.

He reached out, briefly resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

She nodded slowly, the shock pressing her into herself. “Okay…” she whispered, voice small.

Hopper gave her a long, quiet look, then straightened. His shoulders sagged further under the weight of the day ahead. “I’ve gotta go. But I’ll check on you later, alright?”

Maya stayed frozen, letting him move toward the door. She didn’t follow. She couldn’t. The words repeated in her head over and over—Will, quarry, last night—and she felt like she’d stepped off the edge of something she couldn’t climb back from.

The trailer felt impossibly quiet once he left, and the chill of the morning seemed to seep into her bones.

She sank onto the couch, clutching the hoodie tighter, wishing for something to anchor her. Anything. She knew in that moment she needed to check on the boys but she couldn’t do that right now.

Maya moved through her morning routine almost mechanically. Breakfast, no not breakfast, brushing her teeth, grabbing her backpack. The world felt distant, colors muted, sounds too loud in the wrong way. Everything was the same, and yet… nothing was the same.

By habit, she made her way to Eddie’s trailer. The familiar hum of the morning, the peeling paint, the cluttered yard—comforting, grounding. She knocked lightly, half expecting him not to answer.

The door swung open. Eddie was there, hair tousled, a little rumpled from sleep. He froze for a fraction of a second, taking her in. His usual smirk was missing, replaced by something quieter, something… unsure.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning,” he said softly. Softer than she had ever heard him.

Maya raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you?”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair. “I thought… maybe I’d messed everything up. Last night, you… you were here, and I wasn’t sure if me giving you space was the right thing. Woke up this morning, and… I don’t know, I thought maybe you wouldn’t come around.”

Her chest tightened at the honesty in his voice. The teasing, the jokes, the bravado—they weren’t here. Just him, vulnerable, a little unsteady.

“It’s… okay,” she said quietly, stepping past him into the trailer. “I wanted to come…. And I wanted last night too, I don’t regret it”.

He gave a small nod, still watching her, as if making sure she really meant it. She noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way he avoided meeting her eyes fully, and something in her chest twisted.

They walked to the van together. The engine rumbled to life, warm and familiar, but the ride felt heavier than usual. Maya stared out the window, mind spinning. The news from Hopper—the quarry, Will’s body—pressed on her from every angle.

She tried to breathe, tried to let the streets pass under them, but her thoughts refused to stay quiet. The cafeteria, the party, Steve, Eddie, Nancy… and now Will.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked softly, glancing at her.

She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. “No… I don’t think I can be.”

He kept his hand lightly on the steering wheel, careful, patient. He didn’t press. He just drove, letting her sit with everything.

The weight of it all pressed down on her chest. The secrets, the embarrassment, the fear, the grief… it felt like it was going to explode inside her.

“I just…” she started, voice cracking, “…I don’t even know where to start.”

Eddie glanced at her, eyes soft. “You don’t have to. Not right now. Just… breathe. We’ll get through today.”

She nodded, letting herself lean slightly back into the seat. The van’s hum was steady, familiar. But her mind raced faster than the engine, faster than the road, faster than she could keep up with.

Everything had changed. And she was only just beginning to feel it.

The van rolled into the school parking lot, the engine’s hum fading into the quiet buzz of students milling around. Maya felt the weight of every eye before she even stepped out. Whispers fluttered around her like shards of glass, small pricks against her skin. She kept her gaze low, tugging the hoodie tighter over her shoulders, wishing she could disappear.

Eddie parked near the edge of the lot, letting her linger in the van a moment longer. “You don’t have to face them all at once,” he said softly. “Just… take it slow.”

She nodded, trying to steady her breathing. But even as she stepped out, the hallways seemed sharper, louder, everyone’s stares piercing through her. Some faces were curious. Some amused. Some openly judgmental. The echoes of Tommy and Carol’s cafeteria cruelty followed her, mingling with the grief of the night before.

Nancy glanced up, eyes wide, but her face was still tight with worry for Barb, not for Maya. She didn’t even notice the way Maya’s stomach twisted under the scrutiny of the other students.

Steve caught her eye briefly, a flicker of something in his expression—regret, maybe guilt—but it was gone in a moment. His gaze drifted away, leaving her alone with the stares.

Maya forced herself forward, trying to keep her pace steady. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, the sting of humiliation still fresh, even as the news of Will pressed like a stone in her chest. Her thoughts spun, a chaotic whirl: grief, anger, shame, confusion.

Eddie fell in step beside her, subtle, protective. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. Just presence. A buffer between her and the world, a small island in the sea of eyes.

When they reached the entrance, she paused, swallowing hard. She wanted to sink into the floor, vanish completely. Instead, she forced herself to move forward. Each step felt like walking through fire, each glance from someone else a spark.

“Don’t let them see you break,” Eddie murmured, leaning close enough that she could hear him. “You don’t have to. Not today.”

She nodded, exhaling slowly, trying to steady the whirlwind inside her. But even as she followed him down the hall, she knew the day would be long, each moment a test. A test to survive school, survive grief, survive embarrassment.

And somewhere deep in her chest, under all the shame and sorrow, a fragile thread of determination remained: she wouldn’t let them—Tommy, Carol, anyone—own her completely. Not today.

The last thing Maya expected in the middle of the school day was Steve Harrington standing by her locker. Her heart skipped a beat—not because she liked him, not really—but because Nancy wasn’t anywhere in sight, leaving her completely exposed.

Steve leaned casually against the metal frame, hands in his pockets, but there was something in the set of his shoulders, the careful way he avoided looking too directly at her.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, almost hesitant. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Maya blinked, caught off guard. She nodded, shifting slightly, clutching her books a little too tightly.

“I… uh,” Steve began, scratching the back of his neck. His usual easy confidence seemed stripped away, replaced by something heavier, more uncertain. “The police—they’re officially looking for Barb. They might be asking some questions about… the party from the other night.”

Maya felt her stomach drop. Questions. About the party. About everything that had happened. She opened her mouth, but Steve held up a hand.

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly, almost defensively. “I—I’m not talking about… yesterday. That’s… not for anyone to know. Not from me.”

Relief rushed through her, a small flame flickering in the chest-tight anxiety. He hadn’t mentioned the cafeteria incident. He hadn’t said a word about Carol or Tommy. He just focused on Barb—and maybe, in a way, that was the apology Maya didn’t know she needed.

For a split second, she caught the hint of guilt in his eyes. He looked like a kid caught somewhere between doing the right thing and knowing he’d already messed up. She knew instantly why: Steve was the only one who could’ve told Tommy and Carol she stayed the night. The thought stung, but it also made her grateful he hadn’t said a word.

“Okay,” Maya said quietly, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Thanks… for telling me.”

He nodded, giving her a small, fleeting smile—half relief, half guilt—and moved on down the hall, leaving Maya at her locker.

She let out a shaky breath, gripping her books tightly. The world hadn’t gotten easier, but at least Steve hadn’t made it worse.

And for now, that was enough.

Maya walked through the halls, her backpack heavy on her shoulders, the chatter and clatter of lockers around her barely registering. Every glance from her classmates seemed sharper than usual. Some stared a little too long, whispers trailing as she passed. She felt the weight of yesterday’s cafeteria incident settle on her like a physical pressure—every pair of eyes a reminder of how exposed she’d been.

By the time she slid into her seat in her next class, she wasn’t really paying attention. Her books were open, notes scrawled across the margins, but her mind had already drifted far away. She stared out the window, tracing the pale winter sunlight glinting off the parking lot. The morning felt suspended, almost unreal, as she replayed everything—Steve’s hoodie, Eddie’s quiet understanding, the cafeteria… the stares.

A knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Maya?” The teacher’s voice was soft but firm. “I need you for the rest of the class. Could you come with me, please?”

Maya hesitated, heart hammering, but nodded. She grabbed her things and followed the teacher down the hall, weaving past the bustling students. Every step felt heavier, each footfall echoing in her chest.

Finally, the teacher led her to the cafeteria. The doors swung open, and Maya froze.

Inside, Officer Powell and Officer Callahan sat at a table, papers and coffee cups spread before them. Across from them was her dad, Hopper, his uniform crisp, his expression unreadable but tense.

This was exactly what Steve had warned her about. The thought hit her like a punch—Barb was missing, the police were involved, and now she was here. Her stomach twisted.

Her dad’s eyes softened slightly when he noticed her, but the room was charged, serious, impossible to ignore. Hopper’s hands rested on the table, fingers tightening as if bracing for something he didn’t want to say aloud.

Maya swallowed, unsure where to look. The conflict of interest was obvious—her dad couldn’t question her, couldn’t cross any line without compromising himself. And yet, the reality of the situation pressed in, making her feel small and suddenly very aware of how fragile everything around her was.

“Hi,” she whispered, voice barely carrying across the space.

The officers nodded politely but didn’t say anything. Their presence alone was enough. Maya felt the weight of authority, the seriousness of the investigation, and the knowledge that this wasn’t just about school gossip or cafeteria whispers anymore. This was real.

She shifted slightly, keeping her hands folded in her lap, wondering how she’d gotten here, and how much of the world she didn’t yet understand.

Hopper finally spoke, his voice low but steady, carrying just enough authority to make Maya’s stomach knot tighter.

“Maya,” he said, eyes locking on hers. “They’re going to ask you a few questions. Just some things about the party, who was there… that sort of thing.”

Her chest tightened. Questions. About the party. About what had already felt like a lifetime of embarrassment. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing.

“They won’t be asking about anything else,” Hopper continued, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying to shield her. “And I’ll be right here. I’ll make sure they don’t—”

“I know,” Maya whispered, cutting him off. The words came quickly, almost desperate. “I know you’ll be careful. I… I just…” She faltered, her gaze dropping to her hands folded tightly in her lap. “…I don’t want to screw anything up.”

Hopper leaned back slightly, giving her a small, reassuring nod. “You won’t. Just answer honestly, that’s all I ask. If you don’t know something, say you don’t know. If you need a break, you tell me. Got it?”

Maya nodded, swallowing again. She could feel the officers’ eyes on her, quiet and calculating, their pens poised over notepads. Every tick of the clock made her pulse faster.

“Okay,” Hopper said, standing just slightly to the side, keeping the space between her and the officers. “I’ll let them start. Just… remember I’m right here. You’re not alone in this.”

Maya took a slow breath, trying to absorb his words. She could see the concern in his eyes, the exhaustion etched into his face, the weight of everything he’d already carried this morning. And somehow, that gave her a fraction of courage.

Officer Powell cleared his throat and smiled politely, but it didn’t ease the tension. “Maya, we just have a few questions. Nothing to worry about, okay?”

Maya nodded again, her throat tight. The room felt smaller now, every whisper of papers, every shuffle of chairs amplified in her ears.

Hopper’s gaze never left her. “Start whenever you’re ready,” he said quietly.

And with that, the questions began.

Officer Powell glanced down at his notepad, then back at Maya, keeping his tone calm and approachable.

“Can you tell us who was at the party the night before last?” he asked.

Maya swallowed, her hands tightening in her lap. Hopper’s presence beside her felt steady, grounding, but she could still feel every eye on her—the officers’, her dad’s. And even though no one in this room had been cruel, she could feel the echo of stares from the cafeteria yesterday, the whispers, the way Tommy and Carol had laughed at her. She tried to push it down, tried to focus on answering, but the memory crawled under her skin.

“Um… a lot of people,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Officer Callahan nodded. “That’s fine. Just anyone you remember by name.”

Hopper gave her a subtle, encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. “…Steve, Nancy, Tommy, Carol… and Barb,” Maya said slowly, counting off names in her head, careful not to trip over her words.

Powell scribbled in his notebook. “And did Barb stay the whole night?”

Maya hesitated. She thought back to the yard outside, how Barb had mostly sat alone, quiet, apart from the others. “…Most of the time she was outside by herself. She didn’t really join in with anyone. And then she and Nancy had a little disagreement, and I didn’t see her after that. I assumed she went home.”

Callahan leaned forward slightly. “So you’re not sure where she went, just that she wasn’t around after the disagreement?”

Maya shook her head. “Yeah. I… I just noticed she wasn’t there.” Her voice cracked just a little, the heat rising in her cheeks reminding her of yesterday’s cafeteria scene—the way everyone had looked at her like she was on display.

Powell jotted it down. “While she was there, did you notice her doing anything unusual, or interacting with anyone in a concerning way?”

“…No,” Maya whispered. “She mostly kept to herself. I didn’t see much of anything. I was downstairs most of the night anyway.”

Hopper’s hand brushed hers lightly—a subtle anchor. His presence reminded her she wasn’t alone, even if everyone else had stared at her yesterday, whispering and laughing.

“Okay,” Powell said. “And you mentioned you stayed downstairs most of the night. Did you hear or see anything while everyone else went inside?”

“…No,” Maya said, her voice trembling slightly. “…I stayed on the couch. I didn’t go upstairs. I… I tried not to be in anyone’s way.” She could almost feel the imagined eyes of her classmates still on her back, judging, noticing.

Callahan gave a small nod. “That’s fine, Maya. You’re doing great. We just need to know everything you remember.”

The officers exchanged a glance but didn’t press further. Maya exhaled slowly, realizing she had made it through the questions without crying or freezing. It felt small—but it felt like a victory.

“Thank you, Maya,” Powell said finally, closing his notebook. “That’s all for now. We may follow up later if we need anything else, but you’ve been very helpful.”

Hopper stepped slightly in front of her, protective and grounding. “You did good,” he murmured, voice low enough only she could hear.

Maya nodded, still shaking slightly, letting herself lean into his presence as they walked back down the hall. She could already feel the weight of stares and whispers starting to gather again as students passed, murmuring and glancing her way. But Hopper stayed by her side, steady and unwavering—the one thing keeping her from feeling completely alone in a world that had turned too fast, too cruelly, too loudly.

Hopper guided Maya to the edge of the hallway, just out of earshot from the remaining officers. His uniformed presence loomed calm and steady, but there was a weight in his expression that made her pause. He wasn’t mad—not in the way she feared—but his eyes were tired, sharp, carrying the quiet knowledge of the night’s events.

“Maya…” he said softly, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. “I know there was alcohol at that party. I don’t need you to go over every little detail, and I don’t need you to get into things that aren’t important, but…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I just want to make sure you’re safe, and I want you to know I know you’ve been keeping some things to yourself. That’s okay. You said everything that matters.”

Maya looked up at him, her stomach twisting. She wanted to nod, to say thank you, but the words caught somewhere between her throat and her chest.

“I can take you home early,” Hopper offered gently, concern etched into his features. “Give you some time to… process all this before the rest of the day drags you down.”

She shook her head quickly, even as relief bubbled inside at the thought. “No… I’ll be fine. I can make it through the day,” she said, forcing a small smile.

Hopper studied her for a long moment, his tired eyes scanning her face as if weighing her honesty. Then, slowly, he gave a small nod. “Alright,” he said quietly. “But if at any point it gets too heavy… you come find me. Don’t try to tough it out alone.”

“I won’t,” Maya whispered, and for the first time all morning, she felt a little of the tension in her chest ease. Hopper gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, a silent promise of protection, before stepping back toward the officers to finish whatever follow-up needed to happen.

Maya watched him go, her mind spinning with the events of the night, the morning, the cafeteria, and everything she hadn’t yet processed. Even so, there was a small, steady comfort in knowing her dad was looking out for her—not just as her father, but as the person who understood what it was like to face a world that often didn’t make sense, and that sometimes, surviving meant letting someone be there, quietly, beside you.

Maya stayed in the hall for a moment after her dad left, her shoulders still tight, her chest heavy with everything she’d just endured. The hallway felt impossibly long and bright, the noise of lockers slamming and students chattering washing over her in a dull, distant hum. She tried to focus on the floor, on keeping her head down—but it was impossible to escape the weight of all the eyes that had followed her since yesterday.

Then, out of nowhere, Nancy appeared at her side, Jonathan trailing behind her. Maya stiffened, unsure if she should keep walking or just disappear into the crowd.

“Hey,” Nancy said quickly, her tone clipped, businesslike. “We found something… something that might help us find Barb.”

Maya blinked, processing the words. That was all Nancy said—just the information, nothing more. No apology for leaving her behind at Steve’s. No recognition of how exposed she’d been in the cafeteria. Not even a hint that Nancy realized what had happened yesterday.

Jonathan glanced at Maya briefly, then looked away, silent and uncertain.

Maya nodded slowly, letting the words sink in, her mind already spinning with what this could mean for Barb. She said nothing, letting the brief encounter pass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@littleemissperfecttt

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins ~ Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter 009:

Word Count: 3,212

Christmas Day terrifies Maya almost as much as the night before. Almost.

Telling her dad was awful—but telling Eddie? That’s worse.

Because today is the day she tells him she’s pregnant.

She wakes up in the cold trailer, breath fogging slightly in the air. It’s refreshing. Maya has always loved the cold. She loves the snow even more. It makes everything feel quiet. Peaceful. Like the world is holding its breath.

Christmas is never much in the Hopper household. Just dinner together, maybe exchanging a gift or two. No big traditions. No early mornings. Just the two of them.

She gets dressed in something warm—jeans, a T-shirt, a flannel, and a jacket. She skips the scarf and beanie. Eddie’s place is only a couple of trailers down. A two-minute walk.

When she steps outside, light snow drifts through the air. It makes her smile despite the storm in her head. Every step brings the same questions crashing back.

How will Eddie react?

And worse—how will Uncle Wayne react?

She climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer slowly and knocks lightly. The cars tell her enough—Wayne isn’t home. Probably picked up an extra shift at the plant. Working on Christmas. Of course he is.

She knocks again.

The door finally opens.

Eddie stands there, hair wild, eyes bright. “Hey. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she replies.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself.

“Can I come in?” she asks. “We really need to talk.”

Eddie’s expression shifts instantly—less playful, more serious. He steps aside and sweeps an arm toward the door.

“Welcome back to my castle,” he says.

She steps inside.

Eddie steps aside to let her in, shutting the door behind her with his foot.

“Welcome back to my humble castle,” he says lightly. “Sorry about the mess. Wayne calls it ‘lived in charm.’”

Maya gives a small smile, but it doesn’t last. She lingers near the door instead of moving further inside, hands tucked into her jacket sleeves.

Eddie notices immediately.

“…You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says too fast. “I mean—yeah.”

She’s not.

He nods toward the couch. “You wanna sit?”

She does, but perches on the edge like she might bolt. Eddie settles beside her, trying to keep it casual even though his stomach’s already starting to knot.

“So,” he says. “What’s up?”

She stares at her hands. Picks at a thread on her sleeve.

“I found out something,” she says quietly.

His smile fades. “Okay.”

She opens her mouth.

Stops.

Shakes her head in frustration. “I don’t know how to say it.”

Eddie shifts closer, elbows on his knees. “Then don’t rush it. I’m listening.”

She swallows. “Everything’s been… a lot lately. With school. With my dad. Just—life.”

He nods. “Yeah. Hawkins’ll do that.”

She lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “I thought I was just stressed. Or sick. Or not sleeping enough.”

His brow furrows. “Okay…”

“So I went to a clinic,” she continues, barely above a whisper. “Out of town. Just to check.”

That makes him tense. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

She looks up at him, eyes glassy. “Because I was scared.”

He softens instantly. “Of what?”

“Of this,” she says.

Silence stretches.

“I found out last week,” she adds quickly. “I didn’t know before. I couldn’t have. I only just—” Her voice breaks. “I only just found out.”

Eddie’s heart starts pounding. “Maya… what did you find out?”

She presses her lips together, shaking. Tears spill over before she can stop them.

“I told my dad last night,” she whispers.

“Hopper?” Eddie asks, startled.

She nods.

He exhales slowly. “That bad, huh.”

She lets out a weak sound. “Yeah.”

He waits. Doesn’t push. Doesn’t interrupt.

Finally, she forces the words out.

“I’m pregnant.”

The world seems to stop.

Eddie just stares at her.

The heater hums. Snow ticks softly against the window.

“…Oh,” he says finally.

Her chest tightens. “Say something. Please.”

He stands, pacing once, then rubbing his hands over his face. “Okay. Okay. I’m not— I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” she asks, voice trembling.

“No,” he says quickly, turning back to her. “Shocked? Yeah. Terrified? A little. But not mad.”

Her shoulders sag slightly, relief cutting through the fear.

“I didn’t plan this,” she says. “I didn’t even know how to tell you. I was scared you’d think I ruined everything.”

He steps closer. “Hey. You didn’t ruin anything.”

“You don’t even know what this means yet,” she says.

He nods. “You’re right. I don’t. But I do know I’m not walking away.”

Her eyes flick up to his. “You mean that?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

She finally lets herself lean forward, forehead resting against his chest. After a moment, his arms wrap around her — hesitant, careful, but solid.

Outside, snow keeps falling.

Nothing is fixed.

Nothing is easy.

But she told him.

And for now, that’s enough.

An hour later, the trailer door creaks open.

Cold air rushes in first, followed by Uncle Wayne, shoulders dusted with snow, lunch pail in one hand, keys jingling in the other.

“Anybody home?” he calls, already toeing off his boots.

“In here,” Eddie says.

Wayne steps into the living room and freezes.

He takes in the scene in one sweep: Eddie sitting stiff on the couch, Maya beside him, hands folded tight in her lap. Too quiet. Too still.

“Well,” Wayne says slowly, setting his pail down. “This feels serious.”

Maya swallows.

Eddie clears his throat. “Uh— yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Wayne doesn’t sit. He leans against the counter instead, arms folding. “Nobody’s dead, right?”

“No,” Eddie says quickly. “God, no.”

“Okay. Good start,” Wayne mutters. “Proceed.”

There’s a beat.

Maya looks at Eddie.

He looks back at her.

He nods — just once.

She takes a breath that shakes on the way out. “Uncle Wayne… I— we—”

Her voice falters.

Wayne’s expression softens immediately. “Hey. Kid. You don’t gotta panic. Whatever it is, just say it.”

She tries again. “I found out last week. I didn’t know before that. I couldn’t have. I just—”

Wayne lifts a hand gently. “Sweetheart. Slow down.”

She nods, wiping her palms on her jeans.

“I’m pregnant,” she says.

The words hang in the air.

Wayne doesn’t react right away.

He blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Then he exhales and sinks heavily into the chair opposite them.

“…Okay,” he says.

Eddie tenses. “That’s it?”

Wayne rubs his face, thinking. “No. That’s me not saying the wrong thing.”

Maya’s heart pounds. “I’m sorry. I know this is—”

Wayne looks at her sharply. “Don’t apologize to me.”

She freezes.

“I mean it,” he says firmly. “This isn’t a mistake you confess like a crime.”

Eddie exhales, some of the tension bleeding out of him.

Wayne looks between them. “You two together in this?”

“Yes,” Eddie says immediately. “I am. I swear.”

Wayne studies him for a long moment. Then nods. “Good.”

Another pause.

Wayne scratches the back of his neck. “You tell Hopper?”

Maya nods. “Last night.”

Wayne winces. “That go about as well as expected?”

“He’s… trying,” she says quietly.

Wayne sighs. “Yeah. That tracks.”

Silence settles again, but it’s different now. Less sharp. More heavy.

Finally, Wayne clears his throat. “Alright. Logistics.”

Eddie groans. “Jesus, Wayne—”

“No, don’t ‘Jesus’ me,” Wayne says, pointing. “Somebody’s gotta be practical before I spiral.”

Maya gives a small, nervous laugh.

Wayne looks at her. “You okay?”

She nods. “Scared. But… okay.”

He nods back. “Fair.”

Then, softer: “You need anything right now?”

She shakes her head.

Wayne leans back, crossing his arms. “Then here’s how this is gonna work. You’re not alone. Either of you. We figure it out as it comes. No yelling. No disappearing. No pretending it didn’t happen.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

Wayne looks at him pointedly. “That includes you, metalhead.”

“I know,” Eddie says quietly. “I’m here.”

Wayne’s gaze softens just a fraction.

“Alright then,” he says, standing. “I’m gonna make some coffee. Strong. And then we’ll talk about dinner.”

Maya blinks. “That’s it?”

“For now,” Wayne says. “World didn’t end. Snow’s still falling. Trailer’s still standing.”

He pauses, then adds gruffly, “And… congratulations. I guess.”

Maya’s eyes sting again, but this time it’s not fear.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you Uncle Wayne” Maya says

Wayne smiles at her.

Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

They’re still terrified.

Still uncertain.

But they’re not alone.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

A few days after Christmas—caught in that quiet stretch before New Year’s—Eddie Munson steps out of his trailer, keys in hand, breath fogging the cold air as he heads for his van.

“Holding up, Munson?”

Eddie freezes.

Hopper stands near the edge of the lot, coat open, hands planted on his hips like he’s been there a while. Waiting.

Eddie exhales slowly and turns. “Chief,” he says carefully. “Guess this was coming.”

“Yeah,” Hopper replies, stepping closer. “It was.”

They stop a few feet apart. Snow crunches under Hopper’s boots. The space between them feels tight, charged.

“So,” Hopper says, voice low. “You wanna start, or should I?”

Eddie swallows. “I know you know,” he says. “Maya told me.”

Hopper’s jaw tightens, but he nods once. “Good. Saves us some time.”

Eddie shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets, shoulders tense. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I mean—her having to tell you before I could talk to you myself.”

Hopper’s eyes harden. “You don’t get points for timing.”

“No,” Eddie says quietly. “I know.”

A beat.

“You got my daughter pregnant,” Hopper says, blunt and unflinching.

“Yes,” Eddie answers. No excuses. No dodging.

Hopper watches him closely. “You understand what that means?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. His voice tightens, but he keeps going. “It means she’s scared. It means people are gonna judge her. It means her future just got a hell of a lot more complicated.” He looks Hopper straight in the eye. “And I hate that I played a part in that.”

Hopper’s hands curl into fists. “Hate doesn’t fix it.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “But stepping up might.”

Hopper scoffs. “You think that’s enough?”

“I think it’s the only option,” Eddie says. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not pretending this didn’t happen. I’m here for her. For the baby. However that looks.”

Hopper steps closer, voice dropping. “You screw this up—”

“I won’t,” Eddie cuts in, quick but respectful. “I swear. I won’t drag her into anything. I won’t make her life harder than it already is. I’ll work. I’ll show up. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Silence.

Snow drifts down around them, soft and steady.

Hopper studies him for a long moment. Then—

He slams his hand against the side of the van.

“I’m angry,” Hopper snaps. “I’m angry that this happened. I’m angry that my kid has to carry this weight.” He exhales hard. “But I’m not here to throw you through a wall today.”

Eddie nods, jaw tight. “I figured.”

“I’m watching you,” Hopper says. “Every move. You hurt her—emotionally or otherwise—and I won’t hesitate.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Eddie says.

Hopper holds his gaze a second longer, then steps back.

“We’ll figure this out,” he mutters. “Whether I like it or not.”

He turns and walks away, boots crunching through the snow.

Eddie stays where he is, chest tight, breath unsteady.

He knows one thing for sure—

This wasn’t forgiveness.

But it wasn’t a threat, either.

It was a line.

And now he has to walk it.

Taglist:

@littleemissperfecttt

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins ~ Steve Harrington x OC

Well here it is the end of season 1. Next there are a few chapters between seasons but until then let me know what you think

Chapter 008:

Word Count: 6,771

Maya, Nancy, and Jonathan arrive at the Byers house and immediately put their plan into motion. They set the bear trap, pour fuel across the floor, and rig a yo-yo alarm—something simple that will tell them the moment the demogorgon is caught.

In the kitchen, Maya hammers nails into her bat, driving them into every side until it makes a stronger weapon. Something that might actually hurt the demogorgon.

When everything is finally ready, they meet in the living room, standing in a tight circle beneath the hum of the Christmas lights.

“Remember,” Maya says, steady. “Straight into Will’s room. And—”

“Don’t step on the trap,” Jonathan finishes.

“And we wait for the yo-yo to move,” Nancy adds. “Then…”

“Flambé,” Maya says.

She looks at them both. “You ready?”

They all know what it means—cutting their hands, drawing blood to lure the demogorgon in. Like a shark. Like their theory had said.

“Ready,” Nancy answers.

“On three,” Jonathan says.

“One… two…” Nancy counts.

“Three,” Maya says.

And together, they slice their hands.

Time drags on.

Maya sits forward on the couch, both hands wrapped tightly around the nail-studded bat resting across her knees. Every small sound makes her fingers tighten around the handle. Nancy and Jonathan sit beside her, equally tense, the house creaking softly around them as if it’s breathing.

Nancy stiffens. “Did you hear that?”

“It’s just the wind,” Jonathan says, though he doesn’t quite believe it himself. “My mom… she said the lights speak when it comes.”

“Speak?” Nancy asks.

“Blink,” Jonathan says. “Think of them like alarms.”

Maya doesn’t say anything. Her eyes never stop scanning the room. The bat feels heavy in her hands—solid. Real. Something she can actually do something with.

The silence stretches thin.

Then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

All three of them jump.

“Jonathan?” a voice calls through the door. “You there, man? It’s— it’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

Maya’s already on her feet, bat lifted slightly without her even thinking about it.

Nancy moves to the door and opens it just enough for Steve to see her. His expression shifts immediately.

“Steve, listen to me,” Nancy says.

“Hey—Nancy, what—”

“You need to leave.”

“I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve says.

“I don’t care. You need to leave.”

“No, no—listen, I messed up, okay? I really messed up. Please. I just wanna make things right—”

His eyes flick down to her hand.

“Hey… what happened to your hand? Is that blood?”

“Nothing,” Nancy says quickly. “It was an accident.”

Steve’s jaw tightens. “Did he do this to you?”

“No,” Nancy snaps.

“Nancy, let me in!” Steve suddenly pushes past her.

“No! No, Steve!” she yells.

Maya steps forward instantly, bat raised now, nails catching the light. Steve barely notices—he’s too busy staring at the walls.

“What is… what the hell is this?”

“You need to get out of here,” Nancy says, panic creeping in. “I’m not asking you—I’m telling you. Get out!”

Steve sniffs. “What is that smell? Is that— is that gasoline?”

“Steve, get out!” Nancy says, lifting the gun. “You have five seconds.”

“Okay—okay, is this a joke?” Steve says, hands up, backing away. “Put the gun down!”

“I’m doing this for you,” Nancy says, her voice shaking.

“Nancy,” Jonathan says, trying to reach her.

Steve’s foot nudges something on the floor. “Wait—what is this?”

“Nancy—”

“Three. Two—”

“No, no, no!” Steve babbles.

The lights flicker.

Maya’s grip tightens until her knuckles go white.

“Nancy!” she screams. “The lights!”

Everyone freezes.

“What’s here?” Steve whispers.

“Where is it?” Nancy says, spinning.

“Where is it?” Jonathan echoes.

“I don’t see it,” Maya says, bat swinging slightly as she turns, ready to strike.

“Where is what?” Steve says, voice cracking. “Will someone please explain what the hell is going on—”

The demogorgon erupts into the room with a roar that shakes the walls.

“GO! GO! RUN!” Maya yells, shoving Steve hard with one hand while keeping the bat raised in the other.

They sprint down the hall.

“Jump!” Jonathan shouts.

They leap over the bear trap.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Jesus—Jesus! What the hell was that?!” Steve screams.

“SHUT UP!” the three of them yell.

They slam into Will’s bedroom, barricading the door. Maya plants herself in front of it, bat raised, breathing hard, ready.

They can hear it—moving—but it doesn’t attack.

The yo-yo doesn’t fall.

“It’s not in the trap,” Nancy whispers.

“What’s it doing?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan says.

“Do you hear anything?” Nancy asks.

Maya listens, bat still lifted. “No.”

Silence.

The demogorgon is gone.

But Maya doesn’t lower the bat.

Not yet.

“This is crazy. This is crazy—this is crazy!” Steve paces, hands in his hair. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back,” Nancy snaps, stepping into his space. “So you need to leave. Right. Now.”

Steve looks between the three of them, panic flashing across his face. Then he bolts for the door.

The moment it slams shut, the house exhales.

The lights stop flickering.

For half a second, everything is still.

Then the lights begin to flash again.

Maya lifts the nail bat immediately, feet planting, heart hammering.

“Where is it?” Nancy asks, turning in a slow circle.

“Come on,” Jonathan mutters. “Come on, you son of a bitch.”

Maya’s breath catches.

It’s behind him.

“Jonathan!” she screams.

The demogorgon lunges. Jonathan stumbles out of the way as Maya swings, the bat cracking against its body. The impact jolts her arms—but not enough. Not nearly enough.

“Go to hell!” Maya shouts, swinging again.

Nancy fires. The shot barely slows it.

The creature slams into Maya, knocking her hard to the floor. The bat skids from her grip, clattering across the wood.

She scrambles backward as it crawls over her, teeth bared—

CRACK.

The bat slams into the side of its head.

Maya freezes.

Steve stands there, swinging again, rage and fear written across his face.

“Get away from her!” he yells, striking it again and again.

Maya doesn’t wait. She rolls away, chest heaving, watching as Steve forces the demogorgon backward down the hall.

“Steve!” Nancy screams.

Steve keeps swinging, driving it step by step—

SNAP.

The bear trap clamps shut.

“He’s in the trap!” Jonathan shouts. “He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy yells.

Jonathan flicks the lighter and throws it. The gasoline ignites instantly, flames roaring up as the demogorgon shrieks and vanishes into the fire.

The four of them stagger back, coughing as smoke fills the hallway.

The flames die.

The creature is gone.

“Where did it go?” Nancy asks, voice shaking.

“It has to be dead,” Maya says, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else. “It has to be.”

But the feeling in her chest doesn’t go away.

Not even close.

What scares Maya most is when the lights start to glow again.

Not flickering. Not bursting in frantic flashes like before.

One by one.

Down the hallway.

Slow. Measured.

Like footsteps.

Her grip tightens around the nail bat, heart pounding as she watches the lights move—not toward them, not rushing, not hunting. Just passing through.

“It’s not the same,” she whispers.

They follow the trail, drawn forward despite themselves, until they reach the front of the house. The lights above the doorway pulse faintly, then dim.

“Where’s it going?” Nancy asks, voice low.

Jonathan shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s the monster.”

And suddenly, it clicks.

The way the lights move. Careful. Human.

Maya’s stomach drops.

“It’s my dad,” she says. “And Joyce.”

They’re not being chased.

They’re walking.

Somewhere else.

The adrenaline fades, and the fear finally catches up to her.

It hits all at once.

Maya realizes—really realizes—that she almost died.

Her body locks up. Her chest tightens like something heavy has been dropped on it. Breathing turns shallow, uneven. The world starts to blur at the edges. Sounds dull, then disappear entirely.

She doesn’t register leaving the Byers house.

One second she’s there—smoke, broken lights, the echo of the demogorgon’s scream—and the next she’s sitting in a hard plastic chair under fluorescent lights.

The hospital.

She blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Like she’s waking up from something she didn’t consent to dreaming.

Down the hallway, she sees him.

Hopper.

Alive.

The sight of him cracks something open in her chest. She’s on her feet before she even realizes she’s moved, crossing the space between them in a rush, arms wrapping around him like she’s afraid he might disappear if she lets go.

“You’re okay,” she whispers, voice breaking as she presses her face into his chest. “You’re okay.”

He freezes for half a second—then his arms come around her, tight, unyielding. He doesn’t say anything. He just holds her.

And she doesn’t know it, but he needs this just as much as she does.

Because when he found Will in the Upside Down—blue, lifeless, slipping through his hands—all he could see was Sara. Pale skin. Machines beeping. The way the world ended and kept going anyway.

Maya whimpers softly against him, repeating it like a spell. “You’re okay.”

For a few long minutes, they stay like that.

Then, gently, Hopper guides her back to a chair. He squeezes her shoulder once before walking down the hall to check on the others.

The waiting room settles into quiet.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas sit together in a tight cluster. Nancy sits near Steve, her parents beside her. Joyce and Jonathan are down the hall, waiting with Will.

Everyone has someone.

Everyone except Maya.

She sits alone, hands folded in her lap, staring at the wall across from her. The shock hasn’t fully left—she feels detached, like she’s watching herself from a distance. Conversations murmur softly around her, but none of them reach her.

Footsteps approach.

She doesn’t look up until someone sits beside her.

She turns her head.

Steve.

She looks back at the wall, unsure what to do with that.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

She glances at him again.

“Are you okay?”

Her mouth opens. Nothing comes out. She closes it, tries again.

“I’m okay,” she says, voice small but steady.

He exhales and slumps back in his chair, staring ahead. Silence stretches between them.

Then, barely audible, Maya speaks.

“Thank you.”

He hears her.

“For what?”

She turns to him this time. “For saving me. You saved my life tonight, Steve.”

He looks at her, surprised, then shrugs lightly. “Anytime.”

Hopefully, he won’t have to.

A beat passes. Then he speaks again, quieter, more serious.

“I went to Jonathan’s tonight to apologize,” he says. “But someone I really need to apologize to is you.”

She frowns slightly. “For what?”

“For everything,” he says honestly. “For telling Tommy and Carol about you staying over. For letting them say things about you. For not shutting it down sooner.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

She studies his face. He means it. This isn’t posturing or guilt—it’s regret.

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” she says. “And you don’t need to apologize to me.”

“I do,” he insists. “They blew it way out of proportion.”

“And that’s on them,” Maya says gently. “Not you.”

Another pause.

“None of it is your fault, Steve.”

He looks at her then, really looks at her.

“How about we start over?” he asks.

She blinks. “What?”

He holds out his hand, awkward but sincere.

“Hi,” he says. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

A quiet laugh slips out of her before she can stop it. She reaches out and shakes his hand.

“Hi,” she whispers. “I’m Maya Hopper. It’s nice to meet you, Steve Harrington.”

They sit there after that, hands retreating back to their laps, both staring ahead into their own thoughts.

Will is alive.

The monster is gone—for now.

Hawkins will never be the same, but maybe it doesn’t have to be broken forever.

And for the first time in a long while, Maya doesn’t feel quite so alone.

The silence stays.

But it’s different now

ONE MONTH LATER

It’s Christmas Eve, and snow falls softly outside.

Luckily, Maya is inside. She sits on the bottom step of the stairs in the Wheeler basement, listening as Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will play Dungeons & Dragons. A small smile rests on her face as their voices fill the room.

“Something is coming,” Mike says ominously. “Hungry for your blood. It is almost here.”

“What is it?” Will asks.

“It’s the thessalhydra, I’m telling you,” Dustin insists.

“It’s not the thessalhydra,” Lucas argues.

“I’m telling you, it is the thessalhydra.”

“The thessalhydra!” Mike shouts, slamming the figurine onto the table.

“Damn it,” Dustin groans.

“It roars in anger!” Mike continues dramatically. “Will, your action!”

“What should I do? I—” Will starts.

“Fireball him!” Lucas says.

“Fireball the son of a bitch,” Dustin adds.

“Fourteen!” Will yells, rolling the dice.

They all shout in excitement.

“Direct hit,” Mike narrates. “Will the Wise’s fireball strikes the thessalhydra. It lets out a painful screech and then… it crumbles to the ground. Its clawed hand reaches for you one last time and—and—and… death.” He grins. “Lucas cuts off its seven heads, and Dustin places them into his bag of holding. You carry the heads out of the dungeon, victorious, and present them to King Tristan. He thanks you for your bravery and service.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” the other three protest. “That’s not it, is it?”

“No, there’s a medal ceremony…” Mike says.

“The campaign was way too short,” they all complain.

It took them ten hours. There is no way it was too short.

Maya stands as the boys break into playful arguing and mock fighting. She says goodbye and starts up the stairs just as Jonathan is coming down.

She passes through the kitchen, spotting Mrs. Wheeler.

“Hi, Maya,” she says warmly.

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler,” Maya replies, still walking.

“Have a nice Christmas.”

“You too,” Maya says with a smile.

Maya almost makes it to the front door when a voice stops her.

“Maya.”

She turns.

Steve is standing near the doorway to the living room, jacket already on, keys dangling from one hand. He looks different lately—not just calmer, but lighter. Like he’s finally stopped trying so hard to be someone he’s not.

“Oh—hey,” she says.

“Hey,” he replies, smiling. “Heading out?”

“Yeah. My dad’s waiting in the car,” Maya says, tugging her coat a little tighter around herself. “We’re going to a Christmas thing at the station. They’re having a party.”

Steve blinks. “A Christmas party… at the police station?”

She nods.

He lets out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know why, but that’s not something I thought would interest you.”

Maya shrugs, a faint smile pulling at her mouth. “It’s not really about the party.”

She hesitates, then adds softly, “The people there… they’re kind of like family. It’s just me and my dad at home, so—” She trails off, not needing to finish.

Steve’s expression softens. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

There’s a brief pause. Snow drifts past the front window, slow and quiet. The house behind her is warm—laughter from the basement, the faint sound of Christmas music upstairs.

“So, uh…” Steve shifts his weight, suddenly awkward again. “I was actually hoping I’d catch you.”

He lifts his hand, revealing a small, neatly wrapped box. Red paper. Crooked tape. Definitely rushed.

“I know it’s last minute,” he says quickly. “But… I wanted to.”

Her eyes widen just a little. “Steve… you didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he says. “I wanted to.”

She takes the gift carefully, like it might disappear if she holds it too tight. She doesn’t open it—just smiles, real and warm.

“Thank you,” she says. “Really.”

“Merry Christmas, Maya Hopper,” he says, softer now.

“Merry Christmas, Steve Harrington.”

For a moment, neither of them moves.

Steve steps forward and opens the door for her, cold air rushing in.

“Hey,” he says as she steps outside.

She turns back.

“Thanks for… you know. Not treating us like we’re weird.”

She lets out a quiet laugh. “Steve, after everything we’ve been through? Normal’s overrated.”

He grins. “Yeah. Guess it is.”

She heads down the path, snow crunching under her boots. Halfway to the car, she glances back.

Steve is still standing there, watching her go.

She lifts a hand in a small wave.

He waves back.

Maya opens the car door and climbs inside, the heater blasting warm air against her frozen hands.

Hopper glances over at her as he pulls his seatbelt on. “Everything okay, kid?”

She nods. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Everything’s okay.”

He studies her for half a second longer, then gives a small grunt and pulls the car into gear.

As they drive away, Maya watches the Wheeler house fade behind falling snow, Steve’s porch light shrinking into the dark.

She hugs the small wrapped gift to her chest.

Everything is not okay.

There’s something sitting heavy in her stomach, something she’s been carrying for weeks now. Something she needs to tell her dad. Something that could change everything between them, and she doesn’t know how he’ll react. She doesn’t know if he’ll understand. Or if he’ll look at her differently afterward.

Her fingers curl tighter around the edge of the box.

Not tonight.

Tonight is Christmas Eve. Tonight is warm lights and snow and pretending, just for a little while, that things are normal again.

She can tell him later.

For now, she leans back in her seat, watching the snow streak past the window as the police station comes into view, heart quiet but unresolved.

Later. After the party.

The party passes quickly. Hopper mostly went for the food. When it’s time to leave, he grabs a container and fills it without explanation. Why, only he and Maya know.

They walk out together and climb into the truck, headlights cutting through the snow as they head toward the woods—toward the place where Hopper has been leaving the food.

Snow fell thickly over Hawkins, covering the streets in a soft, suffocating white. Hopper’s truck rumbled along, heater struggling to keep the frost at bay. Maya sat in the passenger seat, hands twisted in her lap, staring at the window. Her lips parted, then closed. She tried again.

“Dad…”

Hopper glanced at her, brow furrowed. “Yeah?”

She swallowed, throat tight. “I… I need to… I need to tell you something.”

Her words faltered, and she stopped. Her hands clenched in her lap. Her stomach churned. She tried again. “It’s… it’s just… I—”

Nothing.

Hopper exhaled slowly, hand tapping against the wheel. “You can tell me anything,” he said softly. “I’ll listen. I’ll figure it out.”

Maya nodded, trying. “I… I don’t… I don’t know how to say it.”

The silence stretched between them. Snowflakes tumbled outside, coating the windshield in a soft blur. Hopper’s jaw tightened as he watched her struggle, noticing the tremble in her hands, the way her shoulders curled inward, the quick breaths she couldn’t control.

He could feel it. Something was wrong. Something big. His gut tightened, anger rising — not at her, but at the world, at Hawkins, at the things that could make his kid sit here like this.

“I… I need you to know…” she whispered, lips trembling. “I… I—”

And stopped. Again.

Hopper’s hand clenched the wheel. “Maya…” His voice was low, rough with tension. “It’s okay. I can figure it out. You don’t have to get it all out at once.”

She tried again, opening her mouth, then closing it. Her eyes welled with tears. “I… I…”

He exhaled sharply, jaw working. Slowly, carefully, he looked at her. Her face, her hands, her eyes — the way she wouldn’t meet his. The tight set of her shoulders. The tremor in her voice.

He figured it out.

Then he finally said it, voice low, careful, raw with a mix of fear and frustration:

“You’re… pregnant, aren’t you?”

Maya’s body went still. Then the dam broke. She burst into tears, shoulders shaking, face pressed into her hands. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t stop crying. She had tried to say it. Tried to explain. Tried to make it easier. But she couldn’t.

Hopper slammed his hand lightly on the wheel, jaw tight, voice rising with frustration. “Goddamn it! How did this happen?”

Maya flinched, pressing her face into her hands, trembling. She wanted to explain, but every time she tried, her voice stuck. “I… I didn’t mean for this—”

“Shhh!” Hopper barked, exhaling through his nose, running a hand over his face. His anger was fierce, loud, but it wasn’t at her. It was at the situation. At Hawkins. At the impossibility of keeping her safe in a world that didn’t care. “I… I just…” He rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself, the heat in his chest slowly fading.

He took a deep breath, jaw loosening, voice quieter but still raw. “Okay… okay. We can handle this. We’ll figure it out.” His eyes flicked to her, softer now. “Maya… who’s the father?”

Maya swallowed, trembling, then whispered, voice breaking: “It’s… Eddie.”

Hopper exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face, jaw tightening again. “Eddie…” he muttered, almost to himself. Then he shook his head, voice low and strained. “Goddamn it. This… this is a lot.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Maya said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I… I didn’t know how to tell you. I… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Hopper’s eyes softened. He reached toward her, hesitated, then stopped just short, unsure how to comfort her without making it worse. “Maya… I’m not mad at you. Not at all. I’m mad at the situation, at… the world. I don’t even know how this happened, but it’s not you. I promise.”

She sniffled, biting her lip, still shaking. “But you sound mad at me.”

“No,” he said quickly, voice quieter, but firm. “I’m not. I’m mad at… this. At everything that put us here. I… I don’t know what to do yet. But I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Maya opened her mouth, wanting to say more, but the words got caught in her throat. She could only sit there, trembling, letting the snow fall past the windshield.

Hopper exhaled again, jaw loosening, eyes still on the road. “We’ll figure this out. I promise. One step at a time.”

The truck rolled forward through the snow. Silence settled over them, heavy and uncertain, but alive. Hopper’s anger had passed, leaving only concern and love, though Maya still felt the echo of his frustration. That was enough to make her shiver. And for now, that was all they had: each other, the snow, and the weight of a secret finally shared.

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@littleemissperfecttt

[kik51199]

Shadow of Hawkins ~ Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter 016:

Word Count: 2,893

Maya wakes to the soft crackle of her walkie-talkie on the nightstand.

“Maya, you there?”

Her eyes blink open.

“Maya, do you copy?”

Dustin.

She reaches over the side of the bed instantly, fingers closing around the walkie before the noise can wake Dani. She presses the button and keeps her voice low.

“I copy,” Maya whispers.

There’s a pause, then Dustin’s voice comes back, a little rushed. “Hey, so—uh—my mom was wondering if you could come over this morning while she goes out and looks for Mews. If you can’t it’s totally fine, she just… she’d really prefer it if you were here.”

Maya doesn’t hesitate. Not even a second.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” she says quietly.

“Oh. Wow. Okay. Yeah. Thanks,” Dustin replies, relief obvious even through the static. “She’ll be really grateful.”

“Tell her I’m on my way,” Maya says. “Over and out.”

She clicks the walkie off and lets out a slow breath.

Carefully, she sits up and looks over at the crib. Dani is still asleep, cheeks flushed, one tiny fist curled near her face. Completely peaceful.

Maya smiles softly.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands, moving quietly as she pulls on a hoodie and runs her fingers through her hair. As she steps into the hallway, she hears the low clatter of movement from the kitchen — a cupboard opening, the hiss of the kettle.

Eddie’s up.

She pauses for a moment, listening, then glances back at Dani once more before heading out of the room, already shifting into morning mode.

———

When Maya pulls up to the Henderson house, she spots Claudia already out front, hands cupped around her mouth as she calls into the neighborhood.

“Mews! Mewsy! Mews!”

Maya parks and carefully gets Dani out of her car seat. As soon as Claudia turns and sees them, her face lights up with relief.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Claudia says, hurrying over. “Maya, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you came.”

“Of course,” Maya says gently. “Anytime.”

They walk inside together, the front door barely closed before Dustin’s voice carries from the living room. He’s on the phone, pacing.

“Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much. You are a true lifesaver. Thank you. All right. Have a good one. Bye-bye now. All right. You too.”

He hangs up and turns to his mother, trying to look calm and in control.

“All right. Great news.”

Claudia clasps her hands together. “They found her?”

“No,” Dustin says quickly. “But they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”

Claudia’s hand flies to her chest. “Oh my God. How did the poor baby get all the way out there?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin shrugs. “Lost, I guess. But they’re gonna keep looking. I’ll stay here, just in case they call again.”

“And you’re gonna go help look?” he adds, softening his voice.

Claudia exhales shakily, then pulls him into a hug. “Give me a hug.”

“Give me a hug. Go get her. You’re gonna find her,” Dustin says, hugging her back and gently steering her toward the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” Claudia says, grabbing her purse. “Thank you again, Maya.”

“Good luck,” Maya replies.

The door shuts, and the house goes quiet.

Maya sets Dani’s bag down by the couch and slowly turns to Dustin, narrowing her eyes.

“You are being sketchy,” she says flatly.

Dustin blinks. “Me? No. Definitely not.”

She just stares at him.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” he admits.

Maya crosses her arms. “Is this about the thing we found in your garbage?”

Dustin’s eyes widen just a fraction.

“Maybe,” he blurts out—too fast, all mashed together.

Maya sighs. “Dustin.”

He looks at her, suddenly serious. “Can you help me?”

She glances down at Dani, who’s staring up at the ceiling fan with wide, curious eyes, then back at Dustin.

“…What did you do,” Maya asks, already knowing this morning is not going to be simple.

“So—okay—so that thing we found in the trash,” Dustin rushes out in one breath, “it might be a baby Demogorgon and it definitely ate Mews.”

Maya freezes.

Her eyes go wide, her brain short-circuits, and without even realizing it she pulls Dani closer to her chest instead of setting her down.

“…What?” she says faintly.

Dustin nods like he’s just explained something mildly inconvenient. “Yeah.”

Maya swallows. “And where,” she asks very slowly, carefully keeping her voice down, “is it now?”

Dustin points down the hallway. “Locked in my room.”

Her mouth opens.

Closes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she half-whispers, half-hisses, catching herself before she raises her voice too much.

Dani squirms, sensing the tension.

“Don’t worry!” Dustin says quickly. “I have a plan.”

“A—Dustin—” Maya starts.

Too late. He’s already running down the hall.

She stands there, heart racing, bouncing Dani slightly in her arms. “Of course you do,” she mutters.

A moment later, Dustin comes back—head to toe in safety gear. Helmet. Goggles. Gloves. Pads. He looks like he’s about to defuse a bomb.

In one hand: a stack of bologna.

In the other: a hockey stick.

Maya stares at him.

If this weren’t absolutely terrifying, she might’ve laughed.

She presses her lips together instead and just reaches out, taking the hockey stick from him.

“Give me that before you lose an eye,” she whispers.

Dustin, undeterred, starts laying slices of bologna on the floor, creating a trail from his bedroom door toward the back door and out into the yard, all the way to the old storm cellar.

Maya follows at a distance, Dani clutched to her chest, every nerve screaming.

Once the trail is set, Dustin bolts outside, motioning frantically.

“Come on, come on!”

They duck into the old cubby house in the backyard, Maya crouching low and shielding Dani with her body.

They wait.

And then—

Something slithers out of the house.

Small. Wet. Wrong.

It follows the bologna trail, chomping as it goes.

Maya feels sick.

It reaches the storm cellar door.

Dustin bursts from hiding with a yell, swinging the hockey stick and knocking the creature down into the cellar. He slams the door shut and locks it, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry, Dart,” he pants. “But you ate my cat.”

Maya’s head snaps toward him.

“…You named it?” she whisper-yells, finally losing it.

Dani lets out a small whimper at the raised voice.

Maya immediately softens, shushing her and rocking gently.

“That’s it,” she says, standing up. “I’m taking Dani home so she is safe.”

Dustin opens his mouth.

“And while I’m gone,” Maya cuts in, already walking toward the house, “you are going to go find more help. Real help. Not… bologna and sports equipment.”

She doesn’t wait for a reply.

She just leaves—heart pounding, baby held tight—already planning how fast she can get back to the cabin.

———

The drive to Eddie’s trailer is tight and silent, the world narrowed to headlights and asphalt. Maya’s hands lock around the steering wheel, knuckles white, shoulders hunched like she’s bracing for impact. Dani fusses once in the backseat, a small confused sound, and Maya murmurs to her automatically—soft nonsense, half-prayers—without really hearing her own voice.

Her chest feels too full. Like if she takes one wrong breath, something is going to spill out.

When she pulls up to the trailer, she barely kills the engine.

The door slams harder than she means it to as she storms inside, breath uneven, pulse roaring in her ears.

Eddie looks up from the couch instantly.

No jokes. No teasing grin. No what happened now?

Just sharp focus.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, already on his feet. “Hey. Hey.”

Maya stops short, words tumbling over each other in her head, panic clawing at her throat—but Eddie closes the distance before she can spiral. He gently takes Dani from her arms, like this has happened a hundred times before, settling her against his chest with practiced ease.

Dani quiets almost immediately.

Her tiny body relaxes, cheek pressed into Eddie’s shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like she trusts him with her whole life.

Maya exhales—long and shaky.

It feels like the first real breath she’s taken all day.

“Can you take her tonight?” Maya blurts, voice breaking now that she’s not holding herself together through Dani. “I—I have to deal with a crisis and I don’t know if I’ll be home. I don’t know how long it’s going to take or what’s going to happen and I just—”

“Yeah,” Eddie says instantly. No pause. No hesitation.

“That’s fine.”

He adjusts Dani automatically, one hand firm at her back, the other rubbing slow circles between her shoulders.

“Always happy to spend a night with one of my favorite girls,” he adds lightly, then looks down at Dani, his voice softening in a way that still surprises Maya every time.

“Right, kid? We got bedtime stories, music. I’ll tell you about dragons. Maybe demons. Depends on your vibe.”

Dani makes a tiny sound, almost a sigh.

Maya lets out a breath that’s halfway to a laugh and halfway to a sob.

Her shoulders finally drop, tension draining out of her like she’s been unplugged.

Eddie watches her carefully.

“Okay,” he says gently. “Now sit.”

“I’m fine,” Maya says automatically, the lie thin even to her own ears.

“Mm-hm,” Eddie hums. He tips his head toward the couch.

“Sit.”

She does.

The second she sinks down, her legs feel like jelly. Eddie stays close, pacing slowly with Dani, bouncing her just enough to keep her calm. He talks quietly—about Wayne, about a stupid song stuck in his head, about some half-baked D&D idea he’ll never actually finish.

None of it matters.

That’s the point.

Every few seconds, his eyes flick back to Maya, checking her face, checking her breathing, anchoring her without saying a word.

“You wanna tell me?” he asks gently after a while. Not pushing. Just offering.

Maya shakes her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says immediately. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe anyone one.”

That nearly undoes her more than anything else.

He shifts Dani again when her head lolls, humming under his breath—something low and steady. Maya didn’t even realize he knew how to hum.

“You good to drive?” Eddie asks quietly after a minute.

Maya nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I just… I needed to know she was safe. I needed—”

Her voice catches. She presses her lips together.

“She is,” Eddie says, firm and sure. “Always. You did the right thing bringing her here.”

Maya’s eyes sting.

He walks her to the door when she finally stands, Dani already half-asleep in his arms, her breathing slow and even. Eddie adjusts the blanket around her without thinking, like it’s muscle memory.

At the door, he hesitates, then adds softly, “Hey. Whatever you’re walking into? You don’t have to be brave the whole time. Just… come back when you’re ready.”

Maya nods, unable to trust her voice. She steps outside, the cool air hitting her face like a reset.

When she gets into the car, her heart is still racing—but it’s steadier now.

Because Dani is safe.

Because Eddie has her.

And for the first time all day, Maya believes she might actually be able to handle what comes next.

———

By the time Maya pulls back onto the Hendersons’ street, dusk has already settled in, the sky bruised purple and blue. Porch lights flick on one by one.

She slows as she reaches the driveway.

There’s a familiar car parked out front.

It’s clearly just arrived too—the engine still ticking, headlights barely dimmed.

Maya’s stomach drops.

Of course.

She parks behind it and sits there for a second, hands resting uselessly in her lap. She exhales through her nose, steadying herself.

Round two, she thinks.

She opens the door and steps out, the evening air cool against her skin. Somewhere inside the house, something bad is already brewing—she can feel it, that same crawling sense she’s learned to trust.

“Okay,” she murmurs to herself.

Time for hell to take over again.

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