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edupunkn00b · 27 days

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Meus ex Machina, Chapter 11: Hesper

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Hesper - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan meets Hesper and he's only left with more questions. Everything has a beginning, though, and not even Abracadabra was what it is now.

“Kiddos are all in bed,” Patton sighed as he settled into the seat adjacent to Luc, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Janus opened his eyes in time to catch Luc’s faux scowl at Patton’s tousle.

“Gorgeous as always, mon cher,” he whispered, smoothing Luc’s auburn curls back into place. “Simply gorgeous.”

With a blush that rivaled his hair, Luc smiled but quickly sobered and blew on his tea. “You said you had news?”

Setting aside the little flash he caught from Patton, Janus nodded and straightened in his seat. He took Luc’s free hand as he shifted away from the comfortable home he’d made nestled against his side. “I do,” he began, working to keep the worst of his worries shielded from the other two.

And from the children’s drowsing minds.

Luc and Patton’s expressions told him he needed more practice. “What is it, Jan?” Patton asked, reaching for his other hand as Luc gripped his brother’s forearm. Together, they made a little triangle as the night sky darkened outside the big bay window. “Is it bad?”

“It’s… an opportunity,” Janus licked dry lips and painted on something like a smile. His scars pulled at one side of his face, hampering the intended encouraging effect. “I was contacted by the new mentalists department at Abracadabra.”

“The start-up? How—“

Janus’ eyes flicked down to his own wrist and his great-grandfather’s antique Casio, an anachronism even in that time.

“The ‘Foundation…’” Luc sucked his teeth and he closed his eyes, likely hiding his battle for control. After a moment, he calmed and met Janus’ eyes with a crooked smile. “What did those capos want from you?”

Janus sighed, a low near-growl. “They offered me a job.”

“Me, too,” Patton whispered, rubbing little circles against Luc’s arm. “This morning.”

“You both said ‘no,’ right?” Luc’s eyes were wide as he looked between them. His smile faded at Janus’ silence. “Love, tell me you said ‘no.’”

“I…” Janus slid closer to each of them. Patton only tightened his grip on Janus’ hand. “I believe this is an opportunity we can’t discount. We—“

“We need to stay as far from them as we fucking can!” Luc’s fingers tingled against his skin and he moved up to grip Janus’ sleeve. Safer that way. But he didn’t concede. “You think just because they’ve stopped hunting Powereds we’re suddenly safe?”

“No. I think we’re safer together. I think we’re safer integrated into society rather than maintaining this us vs. them mentality. Let us be a part of the shared solution. We have so much to contribute, we—“

“Oh, open a fucking history book!” Luc closed his eyes, orange flickering beneath his lashes. When he opened then again, his tone was softer. Just barely. “Love, they’ve just moved on to co-option. Sure, now they want to work with the ‘right kind’ of Powerds like you and Pat and—“

“Luc,” Janus warned, stroking his arm. An itch at the base of his spine told him they wouldn’t be alone for long.

But Luc either couldn’t—wouldn’t?—hear him. He released Janus’ arm and had begun counting on his fingers. “Step two is when they tell us it’s only the ‘risky’ Powerds they need to tamp down on. ‘Four legs good, two legs better,’ right?”

“Luc!” Janus said more forcefully, casting a quick glance at Patton.

Both of the elder Powerd’s hands now gripped Luc’s arm and he tugged gently, keeping him seated. “Lukie, maybe Jan’s right. Maybe we—“

“What, we should heel at the corporation’s side? Strap on our own muzzles so we can duck step together when they figure out their final solution is cull the herd of the dangerous Powerds like—“

“Like Re?” Low and quiet from the hallway, Virgil’s voice managed to cut through Luc’s rant.

Luc deflated, eyes glowing as he swallowed his next argument. “Yeah, Virge. Like Re, and maybe Ro, too. Anyone they think is dangerous and uncontrolled.” He frowned at Janus. “Or uncontrollable.”

“Dangerous?” Virgil asked, sliding into the room and sitting cross-legged on the coffee table between them. He jerked his chin at the pictures of Luc and Patton’s old orphanage. “Like you?”

“Now, Kiddo,” Patton began. “That fire wasn’t his—“

Luc cut him off with a sad smile and a little shoulder squeeze before turning to meet the teenager’s eyes. “Yeah, Virge, dangerous like me, too.”

Virgil’s memory of his truncated hospital stay flooded Janus’ mind, nurses sprawled on the floor, blood pooling from eyes and ears, soaking through their face masks.

“Yeah, I know it wasn’t his fault, Pops.” Virgil’s eyes were teary behind his floppy bangs as he turned to face Janus, hands shoved in his pockets. “What do these capos want you to do?”

“Tin Man, let’s go!” V called over his shoulder from the top of the stairs. Orange lights still glowed from the ceiling but at least the alarm had stopped.

Patton and Silvertongue had already run down to prep the transport and map their route. A low whine from the engines filtered up from below, a little shimmer to the air as dust kicked up from the lower landing pad.

Behind him, The Prince huffed, loudly, as Logan struggled to get situated in his suit.

Logan focused on breathing, ignoring the pounding behind his eyes and the ache in his arm. He briefly regretted not sleeping while he could, a regret that dissolved when he closed his eyes and The Muse’s shaky smile filled his vision.

Palm sweaty, his hand skid along the edge of the mech’s chest cavity but he caught himself, fingers wedged between the collar and chest plate. He pulled and pushed against the mech’s waist with his stronger stump, muscles trembling.

“Sorry,” he grunted. “Almost got—“

“Oh, come on!” The Prince snapped, physically hauling Logan higher and depositing him inside the mech. Logan swallowed back a curse and glared at the Powered.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” he growled.

The Prince rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the stairs. “Or what? You’ll fuck things up?” He glanced down at the mech’s heavy durasteel boots. “‘Sorry,’” he muttered, anything but. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

Heat flooded Logan’s face and neck, hurt and rage warring just under his skin. “You son of a—“

“Princey! Mac! Now!” V’s beckoned from the stairwell, glaring at each of them in turn. “Or we’ll leave you both behind.”

The transport door clanged shut and they shot up into the sky and over the churning Atlantic. Logan didn’t know how much of his altercation with The Prince everyone else had heard, but save for a few quiet mutters between The Prince and Patton up at the controls, the team was silent. He felt the brush of Silvertongue’s questioning thoughts, a warm request, no, an invitation to share. Logan simply shook his head and concentrated on checking the mech’s systems.

Satisfied he was powered up and ready, he watched the screens at the front of the transport, following as they raced over greenish grey waters.

Before long, Patton banked right, aiming for a landing platform somewhere off the coast. Which coast, Logan had no idea. Before them stretched a sprawling city, bright lights casting a haze in the low clouds. Silver towers sparkled, rising up out of the jagged reefs of the drowned coastal city that had come before it.

“I can’t tell if he’s still there.” Patton broke the silence, pointing to a screen where flickering orange lights blipped at seemingly random spots.

“He’s here,” Silvertongue’s eyes were closed but his voice was clear. “Prince? Can you cover our approach?”

“Happily.” The Prince tapped a different screen and it resolved into a view of the landing platform. His eyes half-shut as he watched the dozen or so deck crew move between the ships. Without warning, they ducked low and drew up neon-striped hoods. As though fleeing from a sudden squall, they all sprinted toward the big building at the center of the platform.

All but one.

The last hold out shielded their eyes from some unseen attack and peered up at the sky. They staggered to the closest ship, a tool in their hand.

“Take her down quiet as you can, Popstar,” V murmured and moved closer to Logan, showing him a tablet. “Any idea what he’s doing, Mac?”

The image on V’s tablet followed their approach, zoomed in as far as it would go. V had set a split screen to infrared. The figure—Hesper?—wielded a gun-like tool, glowing orange under infrared, bright white sparking from the tip. This close, Logan could make out a welder’s face plate under his hood.

“Soldering something onto the hull?” Hesper moved a few feet, leaving behind a rapidly cooling palm-sized circle. He repeated his actions then jumped to the next ship in line. “A tracker, maybe?”

“Not an explosive?” V asked, frowning.

Logan watched the screen and shook his head. “It’s too cold. And he’s using quick cool-solder. Safer for microprocessors but not as strong.” He shrugged. “Explosive casings are heavier, thicker. He’d need to use standard epoxy or… magnets, maybe?”

After a long moment, V nodded. He slipped the tablet into his vest and opened his mouth as if to say more, but the transport shuddered under their feet. “Everyone ready?” Patton asked, hand hovering over a door panel.

The Prince nodded, eyes now closed as he moved to the doors, joining V and Silvertongue.

Logan lowered his own face shield and helmet. “Ready.”

Patton slapped the controls and the big door opened with a bang. Hesper didn’t even look up as they circled him, just pulled his hood lower over his head and shuddered.

Before Logan could ask what The Prince was doing to him, Silvertongue sent a single word, -“Now!”-

The Prince’s eyes shot open and Hesper spun around, the movement knocking back his hood to reveal form-fitting headgear.

He tapped the helmet, shaking his head. “Guess this wasn’t worth the price I paid for it if you could still get into my head so easily, dear Prince.” He tucked the soldering gun under his arm and then, finger by finger, peeled off his safety gloves. He left them where they fell and flexed his bared hands. “Glad to see you all came out to play. Well…”

Looking up at Logan, Hesper seemed to stare right through his face plate. “We know how it is. Too bad I have to take a rain check tonight.” He flipped on his solder gun and ran straight for Logan.

On his heels, Patton grabbed at Hesper’s jacket. He wormed out of it then dodged V’s attack. Overcompensating, Hesper slid and landed on his back, centimeters from the mech’s left leg.

Without thinking, Logan stepped up and down, foot pressed—slightly—on Hesper’s chest.

Patton hissed behind him but grew still, arms loose and ready at his sides. Immediate danger passed, V inspected the devices Hesper had fastened to the ship’s hull. He scanned each with the tablet’s sensors before prying off the closest and crushing it under his boot. “Basic trackers,” he said, nodding to Logan, and they all turned to Silvertongue.

“What is all this, Hesper?” he asked, eyes hooded. He didn’t look happy at what Logan had done, frowning in his direction. But he didn’t stop him, either, so Logan just waited, foot locked on Hesper’s chest.

“My, my, my… My dearest Tongue of Silver,” Hesper purred. Head tilted, he managed to look down at Silvertongue even from his sprawled position on the cracked peri-ment platform. “You’ve brought along an extra army of one this time.” He thunked his knuckles against the mech’s ankle servos. “All for me?”

A not-quite shadow flashed over Janus’ face, quick, nearly too quick for Logan to catch. Even with Silvertongue’s back to him, The Prince must’ve felt it, whatever it was, because he stepped closer, eyes boring into Hesper’s obscured face.

“Release him, Machina,” Janus instructed, gaze focused on Hesper. “He’s clean.”

Hesper leapt to his feet with an acrobat’s grace the moment Logan lifted the mech’s foot. “Why, thank you.” He bowed his head with a flourish and Logan watched his mech’s reflection shift and warp on Hesper’s shiny helmet.

With no way of knowing where Hesper was looking, Logan felt like it was everywhere at once.

For all his theatrics, Hesper now behaved as though they were nothing but a minor inconvenience, impolite visitors who crashed an open house. He hummed under his breath, easily picked up by his mic, and made a show of brushing off his synthcloth tactical pants and straightening an old vest that looked a lot like V’s. Sighing heavily, he produced a pristine white cloth and bent over to polish away a smudge from his boots.

Janus watched him with half-lidded eyes, hands flexing at his sides. “What are you up to now, Hesper?” He gestured around them, voice sharp. Acidic. “Why here?”

“And what makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company, hm?” He shrugged and carefully folded his handkerchief before secreting it away in a breast pocket. “You know… just like Re used to?”

“Wha—”

Before Logan could finish his blurted question, The Prince stomped forward, hands splayed in front of him, a glowing haze forming between his fingers. “Take my brother’s name from your mouth, fiend,” he growled, drawing close to Hesper. “Or I’ll rip it out with your tongue!”

But as The Prince moved, the air… flickered near his right foot. The mirage tugged at Logan’s mind the same way the faulty Pickerbot had back at the DC, the first time, before he’d found the flaw in its circuitry.

Remembering V’s concern about explosives, Logan flipped on his HUD infrared. Heat poured from the cracked peri-ment, far more heat than could be explained away by the underlying HVAC piping. The ground glowed in blinding purples and white, spiking well past 85° centigrade.

“Prince, look out!” he shouted and pushed his servos to a run.

Patton’s call to Logan cut off and he copied him instead, half-carrying, half-dragging V and Silvertongue away in the opposite direction.

The Prince swore as Logan slammed into him and knocked them both to the ground. Arms locked around him, he pulled The Prince with him into a roll. He stopped, propped onto the mech’s elbows, erecting a cage of durasteel limbs and torso around the Powered just as the floor exploded behind them.

Precisely where The Prince had stood a moment before.

“Are you—”

“I’m good, Tin Man. Let me up,” he muttered, shimmying his bulky shoulders out from Logan’s mech suit shield. -”Thanks,”- he said in Logan’s mind as he stood.

“Anytime,” Logan said aloud and followed him to Silvertongue’s side. Patton crouched a few feet behind him, inspecting V’s hand.

“Tell me!” Silvertongue was demanding, eyes molten gold. “Tell me how you did that without—”

“Without you poking around in here…” Hesper’s laugh was crusted in ice as he waggled his fingers around his head. “Ma cheri! L’amour de ma—”

“Tell me!” Janus’ shout reverberated through Logan’s skull. Even The Prince took a step backwards, head bowed and one hand pressed to his temple. Patton slid closer, nodding quietly to V and Logan watched them all, waiting for any sort of hint of what he had planned.

Hesper just laughed again. “There was no guilt to sense, my dear Silvertongue,” He shrugged. “Not from me at least.” Hesper gestured, almost bored, at the jagged, steaming hole in the landing pad, then at The Prince. “It was his anger, his rage that triggered the charge. I wasn’t sure it would work, but our dear Prince of Dreams always did have quite the temper.”

He fully faced The Prince then. “Ever since you were a little boy.”

Patton reached out and just rested one hand on The Prince’s shoulder. Given the recordings Logan had seen of Papa Bear wrestling an activated Muse into control, he had no doubt a light touch was all he needed to keep The Prince steady.

“Enough with the games, Hesper,” V said from Silvertongue’s other side. “No-one believes you dragged us out here in the middle of the night for a parlor trick.”

Hesper shrugged again, backing away toward the edge of the landing platform. “Worried I’m going to make it a habit of interrupting your beauty sleep?”

He stood on the ledge, one foot hovering behind him. “Besides,” he directed his attention to Logan again. “I know you weren’t all asleep.”

Face flushed beneath his mask, Logan’s fingers flexed against the controls but the suit remained still. Then Hesper stepped off the platform and onto a waiting airskiff.

“Ta ta, for now!” he laughed, voice amplified to carry over the roar of thrusters as he flew off into the smoggy night air.

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scarlettandtheshakerz · 2 months

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ROXXIE

- pansexual transmasc bigender

- dx. audhd + did sys

- hispanic + blk

- eng/esp

DNI IF YOU’RE STRANGE (PROSHIPPER, ABLEIST, RACIST, ETC) ILL BLOCK YOU ON SIGHT

ALL INTERESTS, NAMES, AND PRNS HERE!!

discord: scarlettandtheshakers

join my scott pilgrim rp server !! ^_^

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oldschoolteenflicks · 2 years

Photo

Taekwondo (2016) dir. by Marco Berger & Martín Farina

#taekwondo #taekwondo 2016 #lucas papa #gabriel epstein #marco berger #martin farina #2010s #*#nati

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ash-the-wise · 2 years

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TWO STANCY SCENES IN THE POLL AND 0 LUMAX, ROCKIE OR RONANCE SCENE? Disgusting. Disheartening. I'm gonna riot.

#byler script #stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #mike x will #stranger things script #papa script #stranger writers #byler poll #ronance #rockie #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #lumax #lucas sinclair #max mayfield

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cactusismydisguise · 1 year

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Papa hat keinen Plan (Outtakes)

#papa hat keinen plan #lucas gregorowicz #my posts

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ameliabs-world · 2 years

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Sooo I had another brain rot with alot of people's theory of Eddie being the only one with a light in his bike. So when we find out that the upside down is stuck in the past, and when Robin points out that Nancy would have bikes if u think about it there really only should be 2 bikes uk for Mike and Nancy but there's 4 bikes instead since its the night will goes missing, Eddie is the one riding will's bike the only bike with a freaking light 😭😭. Sorta insinuating that Eddie was going to 'disappear' or die in the last episode, I hate that I'm realizing this now 💀💀

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justisco · 2 years

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lucas: has a photo shoot

his team mates:

bonus: his mans obviously had something to say too

#THEY ARE ALL SO MEAN #like a pack of annoying brothers #and papa celo #lucas vazquez #real madrid

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very-feral-lesbian · 2 years

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stranger things season 4 volume 2 (via @ strangerthingstv on insta)

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edupunkn00b · 6 days

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Progression, Chapter 8: You've Created a Monster

Photo by edupunkn00b

Prev - You've Created a Monster - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Last night's incident at the bar had consequences that no-one could escape. Written for @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper's @dukeceit-week-2024, final day: Free Day. "Free" day. WC: 1190

Wet and heavy, the air outside the bar stank of rotting vegetables and piss, old paint and sweat. Fear. He shivered, sweat cooling his skin too, too quickly, even in the stuffy, muggy night.

He almost asked to go back inside, to return to the soft lights and the loud music. To return to Jannie and Lucas’ watchful gazes. Did they see him leave? Would they be worried?

He almost asked to go back inside, but before he could even surface the thought, Bryan urged him around the corner and into the alley, voice sweet and brushed with just a hint of heat. His lips were soft and the hand on the small of his back was warm and gentle.

Until it wasn’t.

The Muse cracked open his eyes, squinting against the cold glare of his buzzy overhead light. It hummed and crackled, some ancient thing that didn’t fritz right out under the strangling weight of his room's new shield.

Sighing, he rubbed his cheek against the carpet. It was now stiff, without the same drag and bounce it had had before Papa Bear and Virge renovated. The fresh glue stank, burning his nose and his throat.

Maybe that’s what he’d smelled. Not last night’s bar. Not last night’s—

The floor jolted beneath him, the little thud that meant the elevator had stopped on his floor. The Muse grinned. Someone was coming!

“Jannie!” The Muse cheered, racing to the door as it began to open. “Jannie, Jannie, Jannie, Jannie, Jannie, Jan—”

Papa Bear’s head stuck through and he frowned. “Sorry, Kiddo.” The cheer in his voice was thin and brittle, too high and too chilly to be real. If The Muse pushed at it, it would shatter under his hands like the old plastic cabinets had. Papa Bear raised the tray he carried and curled up his lips into something like a smile. “Just me and some dinner for you while Virge converts your stove to work in the EMF.”

His voice was rough, like he’d been shouting. Or crying. The Muse flipped backwards on a nearby chair and hung his head over the seat, watching him as he walked on the ceiling. He’d never been able to easily read Papa Bear. Not without touching him, at least, and today—tonight?—Papa Bear wore a long-sleeved hoodie, all drawn up and covered like he was cold.

A bead of sweat trailed down his temple.

He couldn’t easily read him—not without pushing, not without being noticed, and he was trying so hard to never do that, no matter how much he needed it sometimes. But he could usually make Papa Bear laugh. When he wasn’t scaring him or grossing him out, anyway.

“Guess Jannie’s too busy bom-chicka-waow-waow , with the hubby, huh?” He grinned, waiting for a laugh or a grimace. Usually his innuendos about Papa Bear’s little brother got a bit of both.

Not today, though. “Something like that.” Papa Bear’s mouth trembled and he turned to set down the tray, a wave of grief and loss knocking Remus to the floor.

“Oh, fuck, Papa Bear…” He scrambled to his feet and moved close. “Lucas isn’t… hurt, is he?”

“No, um… Lucas is fine, Kiddo. Everything’s okay.” Papa Bear smiled through his lie. “I… I should go… I left Virge without another set of hands in the lab, um… Eat up, Re. You’re getting too skinny.” He smiled again, lips curled up softly, but cheeks pale and eyes red-rimmed. “I’ll make you anything you want, I promise.”

He squeezed his shoulder, grip firm but not very steady. It was only then that The Muse noticed his gloves. “Yeah—yeah, Papa Bear. I’ll eat this time. I…” Another wave of sadness oozed off of him, cold and sticky. Syrup left to dry or those cold compresses he’d stick on his bruises when the ice burned.

The Muse poked at the edges of Papa Bear’s hurt, feeling for the source of the thudding, throbbing ache around them. Papa Bear shrank back and shook his head, wincing, so he stopped. Tried to, at least.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, Re,” he murmured, but didn’t move closer. “I know it’s not your fault.” His arms twitched, almost like wanted to hug him. The Muse stepped closer, unable to hold back the itchy little whine at the back of his throat. A big Papa Bear hug would feel so fucking good right now.

But instead of moving toward him, arms open, Papa Bear shuffled backwards and palmed open the door with the new controls. “I—I—I gotta go, Kiddo,” he said, not meeting his eyes. He slipped through the door, pulling it closed behind him. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed from the other side of the door.

“Papa Bear, wait, what hap—” The Muse rushed to the door and slammed his hand on the controls. It wouldn’t respond. He tried again, slower this time, fingers carefully spread over the surface. Nothing.

“I’m sorry, Kiddo.” Papa Bear’s voice spilled from a little vent next to the door. “That won’t work anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He pressed to the window. “Papa Bear? I—I’m sorry! Please come back! Papa Bear?”

Papa Bear’s shoulders shook as he rushed toward the elevator and disappeared. “Papa Bear?” he cried one more time, banging on the door. The elevator doors swished shut and the hallway was again bathed in darkness.

Braced against the door, one hand stretched and hopelessly tapping the door controls, he watched the hallway shadows a long, long time. The lights above the elevator dimmed and brightened almost imperceptibly, silently and dutifully marking each floor change as the elevator moved in its shaft. The lights never heralded Papa Bear’s return.

Or anyone's.

By now they would’ve told Ro what happened at the bar. But maybe… maybe Ro would still visit? Not come inside, that was too, well, it wasn’t safe not alone. they both knew that. But Ro still might come and sit outside the door like he used to, close enough to see him through the window. Close enough to imagine they still breathed the same air. Close enough for Ro to show off a new flower or dazzling lights.

He’d bragged he could make fireworks the last time they’d talked. The Muse laughed. Maybe he could show off what he could do, too.

The Muse closed his eyes and straightened, hands outstretched in front of him.

Scarred and shaking, he saw nothing but empty hands and his empty room.

He tried again, picturing the sparks of heat and light, the singe as the fireworks spread and scattered over his hands. But no matter how clear the picture was in his mind, the static pushed back against it, forcing it all back into his head. He tried again. And again. Fireworks, flowers, a fucking rock.

Nothing worked.

He shook his head, pounding behind his eyes as his Illusions stuttered against his skull, echoing back to him instead of pouring out into the world, into his palms, alive and real. His room wasn’t supposed to do that. He had to tell Jannie.

The Muse pushed at the static surrounding his room, the new, ever-present buzz of the shield pressing against him like a soap bubble. Was it louder now? He slammed his fists against it, scratching, clawing, poking against the deafening darkness. -”Jannie?-“ he screamed against the bubble. -“Jannie, can you hear me? Jannie? Jannie?! JANNIE!!”-

#Progression #ts remus #ts janus #dukeceit #platonic dukeceit #demus #ts patton #The Muse #Papa Bear #ts lucas #Lucas and Janus don't have their nicknames yet #well‚ Lucas might have just picked his #but that happens off screen #superhero #superpowers au #the story continues in Meus ex Machina

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docpiplup · 10 months

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#luis buñuel #paco rabal #domingo gonzález lucas #domingo dominguín #miguel bosé #juan antonio bardem #gonzalo guerrero #balam #jerónimo de aguilar #benedicto xiii #papa luna #pedro martínez de luna y pérez de gotor #josé maría muñoz fontán

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katevd · 2 years

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Miracle (The Most Good)

(OOPS, I did it again.)

Mike x Eleven

One Shot, Rated G

El and Mike reflect together in the Hawkins Hospital after seeing Max.

References: 4x08 Papa 4x09 The Piggyback

Dedicated to Miracle, thanks for the memories.

------------------------------

El and Mike left Max’s room, they walked down the hospital hallway to get Mike something to drink and let Jonathan and Nancy visit with Lucas and Erica. They walk hand in hand after Mike took her hand from her side. He laced their fingers together for her. The hospital was filled with injuries from the four gates cracking Hawkins apart. Some patients were in the hallway, waiting for rooms. Eleven doesn’t notice, she is in a daze. She did not find Max. Like the flayed, she was lost. She is really with Henry now. Restarting her heart did nothing. Mike knows she's shook, her brown eyes glazed over.

He stands in her way before a doctor sees her in his hoodie, hoodie up but with shaved hair. She hides her face in his chest until the doctor passed. They walked into the familiar lobby with the vending machines. Last time they were here El popped the candy out for Mike and Lucas, this time she wasn't in the mood. She lets go of his hand and sits facing the wall and the broken television set with magazines on top of it. There’s a lazy hand written sign on the television ‘BROKEN.’ Mike puts in a quarter into the Coke machine for him and El to share.

Mike sits next to her, her arms crossed staring into nothing. He pops open the tab and hands her the can. She takes a small sip and passes it back. She’s not hungry, which worries Mike. She hasn't eaten since they stopped for McDonald's and gas on the road in Missouri. Mike gave her the rest of his fries, he was still hungry but he made sure she eats first and rested in the van, giving her more space and time to sleep, using his over shirt as a blanket for her, her head resting on his leg while he and Will silently played cards.

El told him she protected Max against 001 but not for long, while drying off in the Surfer Boy Pizza bathroom. She was tied to his mind before Mike told her he loved her, and that was the push she needed to pin him. The leader, the heart pushed through. El, however, did not mention she brought Max back from the dead. She told the van the last thing she saw was Max breathing. Mike knew her powers grew in strength with NINA and reliving pushing 001 out of our universe, but raising the dead was something new. Maybe she didn't know either. He was so curious to ask.

An announcement comes over the speakers, “paging Doctor Carter to the second floor, Dr. Carter, second floor.” Three little chimes after, like Christmas bells. Mike formed the question he’d like to ask in his mind but hesitates. It’s a very private matter, he assumed. Eleven spoke first; softly, keeping face forward "what is miracle?'

Mike listened. "What is a miracle?"

"Yes." She paused. “What is it?" Lucas had said the word before she tried to find Max. She had never heard the word.

"It's ….an act…an act that no one can explain….like no reason why it should have happened.”

"A good act?" El looked at him.

"Yeah, like…like a blessing, like something God, or like God” Mike, a budding atheist, wasn’t sure if he believed in this mess but for the sake of the explanation, he did. “God grants miracles to people who deserve them." He felt silly saying it, but after what El did, he needed to suck it up and release he didn’t know anything.

"An act by a good God?"

"A powerful force. For good. Like God.”

El looked confused. "Lucas said…Max is alive because of a miracle." Eleven paused and pointed at herself. “Me.”

Mike nodded, with a soft grin. Eleven’s pained look made his smile fade.

"Papa said I was not ready.” The words hurt leaving her mouth. “He said… I would not stop him. That I could not stop him. I didn’t stop him from taking Max, from opening the gates.” The disappointment flooded her face. “Max should have stayed alive. She would not have needed a miracle.”

"El” Mike was quick to comfort her “you threw him and pinned him in his own mind.”

"I was too late" her voice cracks in her whisper "he disappeared around me, like he was taken. I was not winning. He told me I had lost. He was right."

A family came into the lobby and sat behind them, the father scolding the children for putting their feet on the seats. Mike lowered his voice to speak to her.

"It doesn't matter what he said, screw what he said. You kicked his ass, again. Nancy shot him in the Upside Down, Robin and Steve set him on fire- that distracted him and now we know he can be hurt. And if he’s still alive, we know how to kill him, for good this time, close up the gates and it’s over.” Nothing he was saying was sinking in. “El, you saved Max's life, even if you brought her back, she has a heartbeat because of you. Your powers, they're the strongest now."

"Then why can't I find her? Papa said he consumes their energy, for him to be stronger. He has her, still." Eleven shook her head no. "Henry has to still be alive or she will be gone.”

"We don’t know that, he could be dead and rotting. He should be dead and rotting.” Mike wished he could kill him all by himself. Did that make him bad like 001? When it came to Eleven, he didn’t care.

“No.”

“Then he’s alive, fine, if Mrs. Byers got the Mindflayer out of Will, we can get Max out of Vecna. Find him, find her in his mind, get her back. Then we kill him."

"No." She stopped him. "I will."

"Not alone, everyone is going to help, everyone together. We’ll plan better, get Joyce and Murray back from Alaska, gather the numbers we need, more weapons, maybe a flame thrower even, maybe several; Nancy had the right idea, she just needed to coordinate better and not use Max as bait” Mike would not criticize Max over her dumb plan, maybe if she was with them but their friendly back and forth was put on hold. “Now that we're home; Vecna can't stop us all, not us all together." Eleven looked up at him.

"I will not risk any more of my friends." She blinked a tear with her anger. "Especially not you.” Eleven locked eyes with him. “I did this. It ends with me.” She wore her guilt like a soaking wet fur coat, just hanged off of her. It hanged on his heart, knowing the agony she was processing. It was making him mad.

“He tricked you, Eleven. That’s what serial killer psychopaths do.” He could hear the anger in him but wouldn’t dare upset her with it. The loud kids now in the room with him didn’t help. “Eleven, you were a child. Dr. Brenner kept him collared like a rabid dog around the other numbers, the other kids; he picked you because you were the most powerful then and you’re the most powerful now. He knows this, he stole from you and he’s still putting shit into your mind. None of this is your fault. It’s his. All his.” Mike was tired of Eleven’s bullies having the control over her.

“I wanted to help him.” Eleven felt stupid, all these years later.

“Yeah because you’re a good person. He’s not, he’s evil, he’s a bad person, he was born bad. You have a good heart. It’s the same reason why Max is breathing.” He held both of her hands after she wiped a tear away with his hoodie sleeve. “You are so good in fact you preformed a miracle. An actual miracle.” Eleven read the sincerity on his face. “It can’t be explained, the only explanation is you and your good heart. Your Mom, she was a good person and she loved you, from when you were born. Your powers, they’re for the good. It’s her love that lives in you, that’s where the good began.” Mike poked his index finger at her chest, right to her heart. “Here.” He paused. “Now do you know you’re not the monster, that you are the good, nothing but the good? Possibly the most good?” She nodded yes.

“Yes.” She agrees, but it still pricks her.

“You never were a monster. You’ve always been my superhero. And that will never change.” El’s heart eyes beat with every word. “And I’m in your army; our friends, we are your troops. And I’m your number one soldier. And if you're going to see that ugly son of a bitch again, it won't be without me. We won’t let him get away.”

“Mike…” She kisses his cheek and bumps their foreheads together. “I love you.” She whispers to his lips.

“I love you.” He says back. “We can win. We’ll find Max.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Mike wraps his long arms around her. “Come here.” She folds into his embrace, he hugs her tightly.

The bored, annoying kids in the waiting room go ‘Oooooo’ and then the little boy said ‘ewww, gross!’ loudly at the love birds. The mother hushes them, telling them to mind their manners and eat their candy but it stuck her funny bone, Eleven cracks a laughs, the first one in awhile, it sounds like music to Mike’s ears, making him grin and laugh along. El’s blushing red face looks like a sunset, warm, full. It radiated onto him, like her own sunlight. The joy this girl brought to his heart. He’d do anything for her. Anything.

Just to hear it one more time, Mike kissed her again, surprising her, with a big smacking kiss sound echoed around, made the youngest boy scream “EWW, STOP, SHE’LL GIVE YOU COOTIES!”

“Donald!” The mother exploded in sound.

Eleven’s laugh bursts from her belly. Mike nods to the kid behind him, giving him thumbs up “yeah, yeah, I’ll be ok, it’s worth it.”

Eleven pushed his face back to hers, holding hands close to her heart.

“Cooties.” She repeated to laugh.

Mike pulled her hoodie down as it had come a bit off with his silliness. He thought of a better answer to her first question. “It’s you, Eleven.” He paused for the frog in his throat to hop away. “You’re the miracle.”

#mileven #mike x eleven #stranger things 4 #papa #the piggyback #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #will byers #mike wheeler #fan fic #stranger things fan fic #miracles

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