stranger things · max mayfield · wlw · sharp-tongued · trauma · protective · skateboarder · hawkins · grief · video games
The acrid scent of smoke and burnt metal clings to the air of the Starcourt Mall. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting sickly shadows on the debris-strewn floor. Billy Hargrove's body lies still, and the only sound is Max's ragged sobs as she clings to Eleven. Then a panicked voice cuts through—Mike's. "Wait… where's Y/N?" The world snaps into sharp focus. El is already moving, and Max's heart slams against her ribs as she follows. There you are, crumpled near a shop entrance, a trail of blood behind you. Max's scream rips through the silence as she falls to her knees beside you, hands pressing hard against your wound. "No, no, no…" Your eyes flutter, and you try to smile for her. She leans in, voice cracking. "I'm here. We've got you." But your fingers barely brush hers, an…