°🌟46🌟°

🌟CHAPTER 46🌟~°ESCAPE FROM CAMAZOTZ PART 2°~

*🌟Third Person's POV🌟*

HAILEY HENDERSON - HAWKINS

Hailey glanced around the wall, her eyes landing on Mrs. Byers, who hadn't moved from Will's side since they'd carried him into The Squawk and laid him on the couch. The woman sat on the floor, her back against the cushions, one hand wrapped around her son's, the other smoothing hair from his forehead in a repetitive, soothing motion.

She hadn't left. Hadn't eaten. Hadn't spoken more than a few words.

Hailey understood.

With a worried sigh, she turned away and walked back to the office where the others were gathered. She climbed onto the table and sat, legs dangling, waiting for someone to break the silence.

Lucas did.

"Can someone please explain to me what the hell happened out there?" His voice was frustrated, confused, desperate for answers. "We burnt out the particles. I watched them fly up the tower. I mean, you guys saw that, right?"

"Hard to miss." Robin's voice was subdued, still processing.

"So, Will should be unplugged from the hive mind." Lucas looked around for confirmation.

"Theoretically." Mike's agreement was hesitant.

"Then why didn't he wake up?" Lucas's voice rose. "How did he see Max if she's with Holly? Is this real? Is Vecna messing with us again?" He ran his hands through his hair. "This makes no goddamn sense!"

Robin was quiet for a moment, then: "The doctors, they never understood why Max was in the coma, right?"

Hailey frowned. "No. They said her case was one of those unexplained medical miracles or something."

Robin's eyes lit with sudden understanding. She jumped off her chair and hurried to the side of The Squawk where the records were kept. Hailey exchanged a look with Mike and Lucas, then followed.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay." Robin was already pulling records from their sleeves, spreading them on a table. "So, let's just assume for a second that everything Will saw was real. He saw Max. He saw Holly."

"Yeah, but how?" Lucas pressed.

"I'm getting to that." Robin held up a record—The Clash. "Let's say that this is Will." She set it down. Then another—Tiffany. "And this is Holly." Another—Kate Bush. "And this, of course, is Max." She arranged them on the table. "They're in three disparate locations—The Squawk, the hospital, and some presently unknown place in the Upside Down. Right?"

"Right.

"Yeah."

"But they share one very essential thing in common."

Hailey's breath caught. "All three of them are currently unconscious."

The boys looked confused.

Robin pressed on. "What happens when Vecna captures you?"

"You go into a trance," Mike said slowly.

"Which would look a heck of a lot like a coma." Robin's voice was building with excitement. "No wonder the doctors are so clueless. Max was never in a coma."

Lucas's eyes widened. "She was in a trance."

"Just like Will. Just like Holly." Robin pulled the records from their covers. "It is hitting me like a Whitney Houston high note. What if their minds... are all in the same place?" She placed a crate over the records for emphasis. "In Vecna's mind. Imprisoned."

The room went still.

"At least, they were." Robin continued. "If Will's right, then Max and Holly are now making a prison break. And if they succeed, they will return to their physical bodies, and Max will come back to life."

Mike's voice was awed. "And they'll have been in Vecna's mind. Literally."

Hailey felt hope flicker in her chest—small but real. "Those two will know everything. Where the kids are. Where Will is. Even what his big master plan is."

Please let that be true. Please let there be a way to stop him. Please let me not end up as his victory trophy.

"That's endgame." Lucas's voice was steady now, focused.

Robin nodded. "The fate of the planet may very well rest in the hands of your comatose girlfriend and your baby sister."

Mike looked at Lucas, then at Hailey. "It's worth one more shot, right?"

Lucas nodded slowly. Hailey did too.

Mike turned to the two older girls. "Can either of you drive?"

Hailey's response was automatic. "It's not that I can't. I just prefer not to."

Robin's smile was sheepish. "Not legally."

"Good enough." Mike grabbed the car keys from the hook. "Take Joyce's car. Do not get pulled over. Get to Max." He looked at Will's still form. "I'll stay with him."

No one argued.

Robin drove like a woman possessed.

Hailey clutched the door handle, Lucas braced himself in the back, and the car tore through Hawkins streets at speeds that definitely qualified as illegal. But they didn't get pulled over. Didn't slow down. Didn't stop until they screeched into the hospital parking lot.

They burst through the doors.

"Hey, Doris, I'm gonna sign in later!" Lucas yelled as they raced past the reception desk.

"We're here for emotional support!" Robin added loudly, ignoring Doris calling her name.

They made it to the elevator—almost. A hand grabbed Robin's shoulder, spinning her around.

"Hey." Vickie stood there; expression serious. "We need to talk."

Robin's face went through about fifteen emotions in two seconds. "Yeah."

"Wait, Robin!" Lucas called as Vickie dragged her away.

Hailey put a hand on his shoulder. "She's gonna have to take care of that. You and I will continue with the plan."

Lucas managed a small, grateful smile.

The elevator doors opened. They stepped inside.

Max's room was exactly as they'd left it—sterile, quiet, haunted by the beeping of machines and the soft whisper of oxygen. She lay in the bed, small and still, her red hair spread across the pillow like a claim to life she hadn't yet surrendered.

Lucas took his usual seat beside her. Hailey moved to the window, giving them space.

"Okay, Max." Lucas's voice was soft, steady, full of a hope he refused to let go of. "Time to come home."

He put on her favourite song—Kate Bush, the one that had saved her before—and took her hand in his.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Praying for a miracle.

Hailey watched from the window, the streetlights of Hawkins casting pale shadows across the room. She thought about Vecna's words. His touch on her face. His promise to come for her.

Not if Max stops you first. Not if Will stops you first. Not if all of us together—

She didn't finish the thought.

Couldn't.

Because hope was dangerous. Hope was a thing that could be taken away.

But standing here, watching Lucas hold Max's hand, watching him believe with everything he had—

Maybe hope was the only thing they had left.

Hailey stood by the window, her reflection a ghost in the glass—bruised face, tired eyes, a girl she barely recognized anymore.

Behind her, Lucas held Max's hand. Kate Bush played softly from the headphones. The machines beeped their steady, meaningless rhythm.

But Hailey wasn't in that room anymore.

She was somewhere else entirely.

She was in Steve's car, the summer before everything went to hell, his hand draped over her thigh as he drove one-handed, the other gesturing wildly as he told some ridiculous story about Robin. She was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe, and he kept glancing over at her, that stupid grin on his face, like her laughter was the only sound he ever wanted to hear.

She was in his bed, early morning light filtering through the curtains, his arm heavy across her waist, his breath warm against her neck. She'd tried to slip out—had things to do, places to be—and he'd pulled her back, mumbling "five more minutes" into her hair, and she'd let him. Always let him.

She was in the kitchen of his house, stealing bites of pancake batter while he pretended to be annoyed, then kissing him with chocolate-chip smiles and sticky fingers. She was on his couch, watching some terrible movie, her legs thrown over his lap, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her ankle. She was anywhere. Everywhere. As long as he was there.

The teasing. The way he'd say something stupid just to make her roll her eyes, then grin like he'd won something when she did.

The playful fights over nothing—what to watch, where to eat, whose turn it was to pick the music. Fights that always ended the same way, with him pulling her close and kissing the argument right out of her.

The stolen kisses. In hallways, in parking lots, in the brief moments between crises when the world stopped ending long enough for them to remember they were just two people in love.

And his arms. God, his arms. The way they felt around her—safe, warm, like nothing could touch her as long as he was holding on.

She missed all of it.

Every stupid, beautiful, ordinary moment.

When did we lose that?

The question had no answer. Or maybe it had too many. Vecna. Eddie. The crawl. The hospital. The distance that had grown between them one day at a time, until she couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at her and seen her.

He tries. I know he tries. But trying isn't the same as being there.

A tear slid down her cheek.

She didn't wipe it away.

Another followed. Then another.

She stood at that window, silent tears falling, and let herself feel it. All of it. The grief for what they'd had. The longing for what they'd lost. The desperate, aching hope that somewhere, somehow, they might find their way back.

I miss you, Steve. I miss us. I miss the way you used to look at me—like I was the only person in the world.

I don't know if we can fix this. I don't know if there's anything left to fix.

But God, I want to try.

Behind her, Kate Bush sang about running up that hill. Lucas whispered promises to a girl who couldn't hear him. Machines beeped. Time passed.

And Hailey stood at the window, tears on her face, missing the boy she loved with every broken piece of her heart.

The silence in the hospital room was heavy, punctuated only by the soft hum of machines and the distant, muffled sounds of the corridor. Lucas's voice had long since faded into whispered encouragements, his forehead pressed against Max's hand, his shoulders curved with the weight of waiting.

Hailey stood at the window, her back to him, hoping the darkness outside would hide the tears she couldn't stop.

She'd almost succeeded, too. Almost.

But Lucas looked up at exactly the wrong moment—or maybe the right one. He saw her hand rise, wipe at her cheek. Saw the subtle tremor in her shoulders.

"Hailey?"

She didn't turn. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

The question was so simple. So, kind. So, Lucas.

Hailey let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob. "Not really." She turned then, leaning against the windowsill, and let him see her face—tear tracks and all. "But that's kind of the theme these days, isn't it? None of us are okay."

Lucas's expression softened. He didn't look away from her, didn't offer empty platitudes. Just nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."

She crossed the room slowly, sinking onto the edge of the bed across from him. Close enough to talk. Far enough to give him space with Max.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Lucas's voice came, quiet and honest. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do if she doesn't wake up."

Hailey's heart clenched. "Lucas—"

"I mean it." He looked at Max, at her pale face, her closed eyes, the rise and fall of her chest that was the only proof she was still here. "Everyone keeps telling me to have hope. To believe. To wait." His voice cracked. "But I've been waiting for so long, Hailey. And she's still... she's still there. Somewhere I can't reach."

Hailey reached out and took his hand. Squeezed.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

He looked at her then—really looked. "How do you do it? How do you keep going when everyone you love keeps slipping away?"

The question hit her like a physical blow.

Everyone you love keeps slipping away.

Dustin, lost in grief and anger. Steve, drifting further every day. Eddie, gone. Max, here but not here. Will, unconscious and fighting his own battle.

How did she do it?

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just... keep showing up. Even when it hurts. Even when I want to give up. I keep showing up, because if I don't, then what's the point?"

Lucas nodded slowly. "That's what my mom says. She says love isn't about the good times. It's about showing up when it's hard."

"Your mom's a smart woman."

"She is." A small smile flickered across his face. "She also says I'm too young to be this serious all the time."

Hailey laughed—a real laugh, surprised out of her. "She might have a point."

"I'll try to be less serious when the world isn't ending." Lucas's smile widened, then faded. "You and Steve... you're gonna figure it out, right?"

Hailey's breath caught. "I don't know."

"You love him."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I do."

"And he loves you. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"He loves me." She nodded slowly. "But love isn't always enough, Lucas. Sometimes people drift. Sometimes they hurt each other without meaning to. Sometimes..." She trailed off.

"Sometimes what?"

She thought about Vecna's words. His touch. His promise.

Once I am done reshaping the world, I'll come and get you to stay by my side.

"Sometimes there are things bigger than both of you," she finished quietly. "Things that get in the way. Things that change you."

Lucas studied her for a long moment. "You're scared."

It wasn't a question either.

"Yeah." She let him see it—the fear she'd been carrying alone. "I'm scared of losing him. I'm scared of losing myself. I'm scared that when this is all over, there won't be anything left to save."

Lucas squeezed her hand back. "Then we make sure there is. We fight for it. That's what we do, right? We fight."

Hailey stared at him—this boy, this kid, who'd seen too much and lost too much and still believed in fighting. Still believed in them.

"When did you get so wise?" she asked softly.

He shrugged, a hint of his usual self-peeking through. "Hanging out with you guys. It rubs off."

She laughed again, and it felt like medicine.

They sat there for a moment, brother and sister in every way that mattered, holding hands across a hospital bed while the girl they both loved fought her own battle somewhere none of them could reach.

Then—

BEEP.

The monitor jumped.

BEEP BEEP.

Lucas's head snapped up. His grip on Hailey's hand tightened painfully.

BEEP BEEP BEEP—

"Max?" His voice was a prayer.

The numbers on the screen spiked. Her heart rate accelerating, jumping, racing—

Hailey leaned forward, heart pounding, hope and terror warring in her chest.

And then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

The beeping slowed. Returned to its steady, normal rhythm.

Max didn't move. Didn't open her eyes. Didn't give any sign that she'd heard, that she'd fought, that she'd tried.

Lucas's hand went slack.

He stared at her face for a long, terrible moment. Then his shoulders curved inward, his head dropped, and the silence that filled the room was worse than any sound.

Hailey didn't let go of his hand.

Didn't move.

Didn't speak.

She just sat there, holding on, while Lucas fell apart beside her and the machines beeped their indifferent rhythm and somewhere in the darkness, Max fought alone.

Come back to us, she thought. Please. Come back.

But the room stayed quiet.

And Lucas stayed broken.

And all they could do was wait.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

Kate Bush's voice filled the space—haunting, beautiful, utterly inadequate against the weight of everything unsaid. The headphones lay askew on Max's pillow, the music spilling out into the room like a prayer no one knew how to finish.

Hailey hadn't let go of Lucas's hand.

He hadn't pulled away.

They sat there, two people bound by love and loss and the terrible patience of waiting, while the machines beeped and the music played and the girl between them fought a battle they couldn't see.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Time had stopped meaning anything.

Finally, Lucas spoke. His voice was raw, scraped clean of everything but truth

"Do you think she knows I'm here?"

Hailey turned to look at him. His eyes were fixed on Max's face, searching for something—a twitch, a breath, any sign that she could feel him.

"I think," Hailey said slowly, "that wherever she is, she knows you're waiting. She knows you haven't given up."

Lucas nodded, but his expression didn't lighten. "That's what scares me. What if she's waiting for me to save her, and I can't? What if she's counting on me, and I fail?"

"You haven't failed." Hailey's voice was firm. "You're here. You've always been here. That's not failure, Lucas. That's love."

"Love." He laughed, bitter and broken. "What good is love if I can't reach her? If I can't pull her back?"

Hailey thought about Steve. About all the times she'd wanted to reach him, to pull him back, to make him see her. About the distance that had grown between them despite love, because of love, in spite of everything.

"Sometimes love isn't about saving someone," she said quietly. "Sometimes it's just about staying. About being there when they come back—if they come back. About making sure they have something to come back to."

Lucas was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Is that what you're doing? With Steve?"

The question landed softly, but it landed deep.

Hailey let out a breath. "I don't know what I'm doing with Steve anymore." The admission hurt, but it was true. "I love him. I've never stopped loving him. But somewhere along the way, we stopped knowing how to be together. We started missing each other—not in the big ways, but in the small ones. The ones that matter."

Lucas nodded slowly. "Like when he looks at Nancy."

Hailey winced, but didn't deny it. "Yeah. Like that."

"He's an idiot."

A surprised laugh escaped her. "Yeah. He is."

"But he loves you." Lucas's voice was certain. "I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not watching. Like you're the answer to a question he's been asking his whole life."

Hailey's eyes burned. "Then why can't he just... see me? Why does he keep looking elsewhere?"

Lucas thought about it. "Maybe he's scared. Maybe he doesn't know how to be the person you deserve, so he keeps proving he's not instead of trying to be."

The words hung in the air, simple and devastating.

Hailey stared at him. "When did you get so smart about love?"

Lucas's smile was sad. "I've had a lot of time to think. Sitting here. Waiting." He looked at Max. "You realize what matters. What really matters. And it's not being right, or being the hero, or proving anything to anyone." His voice dropped. "It's just... being there. Showing up. Not giving up."

Hailey squeezed his hand. "You're not giving up."

"Neither are you."

They sat with that for a while. The music played on.

The silence stretched, comfortable now instead of crushing. Two people, holding onto each other and the hope that the ones they loved would find their way back.

Then Lucas spoke again, softer this time.

"Hailey?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for staying."

She looked at him—this boy who'd become a man too young, who'd loved too hard and waited too long, who was still here, still fighting, still believing.

"Always," she whispered. "Where else would I be?"

He didn't answer. Didn't need to.

They sat together in the quiet, Kate Bush singing about running up that hill, and waited for a miracle.

"Hailey, Lucas, it's Robin. A Demo is headed your way. Do you hear me? A Demo is headed your way. You need to get Max out of there now. Take the elevator. They're on the stairwell. We'll meet you in the basement."

Robin's voice echoed over the hospital speakers, urgent and terrified, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Hailey and Lucas stared at each other, eyes wide, hearts hammering.

The lights flickered.

Lucas looked at Max—still so still, still so far away—and made a decision.

They moved.

Lucas unhooked Max from the monitors with practiced efficiency, the machines screaming their protest. He gathered her into his arms, small and light and terrifyingly fragile. Hailey grabbed the stereo, Kate Bush still playing, still fighting.

They ran.

The corridor stretched endlessly, each step echoing off the walls. The elevator doors gleamed ahead—salvation, if they could reach it in time.

"Come on. Come on." Lucas punched the button, willing it to open faster.

The doors slid open. They tumbled inside. Lucas hit the basement button, once, twice, three times—

A demo-dog appeared at the end of the hallway.

It saw them.

It ran.

"Shit. Shit. Come on!" Lucas's finger stabbed the close button, but the doors moved with agonizing slowness.

The demo-dog hurtled toward them, jaws opening, claws reaching—

Hailey moved.

She shoved Lucas and Max behind her, planted her foot, and kicked.

Her boot connected with the demo-dog's face just as it lunged through the narrowing gap. The creature flew backward, screeching, as the doors finally slid shut.

Hailey stumbled back, breathing hard, heart threatening to explode.

Two more demo-dogs appeared through the closing gap—and then the doors sealed, and they were gone.

For now.

The basement level was dark, cold, filled with shadows that could hide anything.

They found Robin and Vickie almost immediately—Robin's face a mask of terror, Vickie's a study in barely controlled confusion.

"Whoa! Jesus!" Robin gasped.

"They're coming! We gotta go!" Lucas adjusted his grip on Max, already moving.

They ran left.

A shadow on the wall. A demo-dog, waiting.

"Which way?" Robin's voice cracked.

They pivoted, ran the opposite direction.

Another shadow. Another demo-dog.

They were surrounded.

"What the hell is going on?" Vickie's voice was high, frightened, the question of someone who'd just had her entire understanding of reality shattered.

"How are they finding us?" Lucas demanded.

Hailey's mind raced. "I have no idea, but we need to get the hell out of here, or we're gonna end up as their lunch."

Vickie pointed. "There! The laundry room!"

They ran.

Through the door. Down the stairs. Into a maze of industrial washing machines and dryers, the air thick with the smell of detergent and fear.

"Okay. Come on. Come on. Let's go. Go, go, go. Come on."

"Shut the door! Shut the door!"

Vickie slammed it just as the demo-dogs reached it. The wood shuddered under their impact.

"Oh, shit."

"Go! Just keep going! Come on!"

They ran deeper into the laundry room, searching for another exit. A door. Any door.

"There!"

They reached it. Hailey and Robin grabbed the handles, pulled—

Locked.

SLAM. The demo-dogs hit the other door again. Harder.

SLAM. The wood splintered.

"This way, guys! Come on! Come on! Get down!" Lucas spotted the gap between two rows of industrial washing machines, placed back-to-back. It was narrow, cramped, barely enough space—but it was something.

They squeezed in. Hailey last, pulling herself as far back as she could, knees to her chest, hands gripping her sleeves so tight her knuckles went white.

Robin and Vickie pressed together beside her, their whispers a fragile shield against the darkness.

Lucas held Max, her head against his chest, her breath shallow and slow.

The door burst open.

Claws scraped concrete. Snarls echoed off the walls. The demo-dogs were inside, searching, hunting.

Hailey closed her eyes.

Please. Please. Please.

She couldn't pray to a God she wasn't sure existed. Couldn't beg for mercy from a universe that had shown them none. But she could hope. She could hold onto that tiny, fragile thing and refuse to let go.

The footsteps came closer. Closer. Stopping just on the other side of the machines.

Hailey stopped breathing.

Robin's whispers stopped.

Even Vickie went silent.

They waited for death.

BUZZZZZZ.

A loud, mechanical whine erupted from across the room. Something clanged—metal against metal, loud and jarring.

The demo-dogs turned. Their claws scraped away from the hiding place, toward the noise.

BUZZZZZZ. CLANG. BUZZZZZZ.

The sounds continued, drawing the monsters away.

Hailey risked opening her eyes. Peered through the gap between machines. Saw shadows moving, disappearing into the smoke and steam.

What the hell is happening?

An explosion—muffled, contained, but powerful enough to shake the floor.

Hailey ducked, covering her head, waiting for the end.

Silence.

Slowly, carefully, she raised her head. Robin did the same. They exchanged a look—equal parts confusion and hope—and climbed to their feet.

Smoke filled the laundry room, thick and acrid. Through it, a figure emerged.

Limping. Grimacing.

Hailey's eyes went wide.

"Mrs. Wheeler?"

The woman stumbled closer, her face set in an expression Hailey had never seen on her before—fierce, determined, dangerous. She was hurt, favouring one leg, her clothes torn and singed. But she was here. She'd come for them.

Mrs. Wheeler's eyes swept over Hailey, checking for injuries. Then over Robin, Vickie. Finally landing on Lucas, on Max, on the girl who'd been lying in a hospital bed for far too long.

Something in her face softened. Just for a moment.

Then she straightened, as much as her injuries would allow, and nodded.

Hailey stared at her—this woman who'd been just another mom, just another face in the background of their lives—and felt something shift.

She came. She actually came.

"Thank you," Hailey whispered. "Thank you."

Mrs. Wheeler didn't answer with words. Just reached out and squeezed Hailey's arm. A gesture that said everything.

You're not alone. None of you are. We're going to get through this.

Behind them, the demo-dogs were gone. The way was clear.

For now.

*~🌟~*