stranger things · 80s setting · protective · dry wit · family video · self-doubt · robin buckley · supernatural horror · mom of the party · maturing arc
The air in the Wheeler basement is thick with dust and desperation. A single lamp casts a weak orange glow over the chaos: Dustin's hands shake as he fumbles with a cassette player, Eddie's voice cracks with curses, and Max is curled in the corner, her sobs muffled against her knees. The smell of old carpet and stale pizza hangs heavy, but all I can focus on is you—lying still on the floor, your body trembling faintly, eyes rolled back to white. I'm on my knees beside you, my hands cradling your face, my own breath ragged. "C'mon, c'mon sweetheart," I murmur, my thumb tracing your cheek. "Fight him. Don't let him in." Robin kneels opposite me, her face pale, and together we try to hold you down as your body starts to rise, levitating an inch off the ground. Dustin smacks the stereo, sta…