#the long way home part 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsgoghtime · 8 months

Text

500 Miles

The Long Way Home Series : Part 2

CW: very long fic, kidnapped/missing person au, I did not write the bad guy super well cause I don’t care, lil swearing, Murray is sad and upset, lots and lots of angst till the last 700-800 words or so (it’s a hurt/comfort but the comfort part takes forever)

Words: 7332

Murray's head was pounding as he came back to consciousness. The sun was shining through the sheer curtains that covered the dewy motel window.

He turned on his side to pull me closer as he always did every morning, only to find an empty space.

Murray could have sworn I had come to bed last night - which brought him back to his headache.

Ah yes, the argument. He remembered a lot of yelling, a lot of slamming doors, but he could have sworn after I had showered, I had come to bed. He was conscious enough - even after his few shots of vodka and retreating to his side of the mattress - that I had come to bed.

He only remembered this because right before he had slipped into sleep, he had attempted to apologize to no avail. There was no response.

Thinking I had maybe wandered out somewhere, he willed himself to get out of bed and at least call the lady he was doing the case for - she could wait a few hours while Murray attempted to make peace, knowing fully well that without reconciliation, he wouldn't be able to focus. And he had several cases lined up in the area within the next few days, but they could wait just a few hours too.

However, after getting dressed and making coffee, he was beginning to feel a little uneasy. I didn't just disappear. That was completely out of my character.

And besides, I had come back to bed... hadn't I?

Murray was sure I had - he had felt the bed dip right before he had fallen asleep. He was absolutely sure he hadn't just imagined it. We had been sleeping in the same bed for three years - he knew how it felt when I slid under the covers next to him.

Surely, I was just upset and had gone down to catch a bus to get breakfast or leave for home.

The second was ruled out immediately - all my clothes were still there. I wouldn't just leave them behind. That wasn't in me either.

He went and asked the motel manager what buses had left for the day, and they said it was too early for any sort of scheduled transportation to be up and ready - there was one in a half an hour.

This did not settle or satisfy Murray. He knew I was not the type to hide, and knowing there were only taxis closer to the city, I couldn't have left that way either. Lastly, there wasn't anything worthwhile in walking distance.

And returning to the room, the pit in his stomach intensified. All my clothes and belongings were still there. Even now, hadn't been touched.

He was almost waiting for me to come through the door any moment with some sort of... something.

Because he knew - I had come to bed. I had. There was no question about it.

He also knew that I loved him way too much to just leave and not work things out.

Murray retraced as much as he could remember about his steps last night, and over the few times he did, kept mumbling "She came to bed... she came to bed..."

There was a slight scraping sound that ended just as soon as it began - and Murray ignored it at first, knowing there were people in other rooms that had pets. And other people who just did strange things.

However, upon another rundown of the events of the previous evening, he came across an envelope, evidently slid under the door as there was a little dirt on the bottom.

Murray opened the door, and after looking around, found no one there. He then opened this envelope, and his hands began to shake.

A single piece of paper - with words put together by clippings from a magazine we had brought from home. Looking around momentarily - he found it wasn't in the spot he had placed it, or anywhere in the room, really.

He made a quick phone call, to one of our friends in Hawkins, frustrated that they were making a joke and taking me from him.

"Put her on the phone. I know you came and got her in the middle of the night in your van cause... cause she must've called you or something and now she just won't talk to me. PUT HER ON THE PHONE DAMMIT!"

"MURRAY!" My friend answered, her voice shaking a little in frustration. "She's not here!!"

Murray paused. "You mean... she's..."

"No," her boyfriend calmly explained. "We haven't heard anything from her since we called your house last week."

Murray didn't respond. His mind was spinning.

He was running out of explanations for the cause of my absence.

"Murray? Is she not with you? What's going..."

He hung up the phone.

Returning to the note, his entire body convulsed at the words - that while weren't quite spelled correctly, conveyed the message that he already knew clearly enough.

I was gone.

Someone - he couldn't think straight enough at the moment to theorize who - was upset that he had taken this case we had been on. They had pictures of us together, booking the motel, talking to the lady, and more - and in its broken words described there was a ransom for me. He'd have to drop the case and any future cases. He was not allowed to contact the authorities, or they'd kill me.

The part that broke Murray the most, was the most recent picture they had taken of me as proof of life - I was tied to a chair, in an empty room with a desk in the back and a window up in the right corner.

He fell to his knees, tears streaming as he dropped everything else but the last picture as the phone rang incessantly in the background.

I had come to bed. I had come to bed.

And they had taken me from him.

—————

After pausing a moment, and collecting his thoughts, Murray began his red string board as he picked up the phone.

"No, she's not with me." The ransom note went up.

"Yeah, I'm going to find her. Can't hire anyone or get the cops involved, so nope, that's not an option." The first set of pictures went up - in their respective places along the county map - the same map he had placed a couple days ago for the missing person cases long forgotten now.

"No, I don't need to be babysitting while I'm trying to find my girlfriend. You should stay in Hawkins." He held the last picture, beginning to take into account the different parts of the room in view - the desk, the way the sun was shining down through the window, the chair.

He sighed, pushing his glasses up as his tone softened. "I really do appreciate the concern. I will call you when she's safe, alright? M'kay, bye."

He hung up the phone, the computer beeping as it highlighted Hawkins, Indiana on a map.

If his intuition was right, whoever had kidnapped me would call at some point with the drop off location for the money, and he'd be able to track them.

Money. Murray realized he didn't have the money as he went through the luggage, and sat on the end of the bed, facing the board.

He had done a few of these cases before, and with or without the money, had helped free whoever had been trapped.

And by hell, he was going to free me. No matter what it took.

As the day went on, and his theories really began to take form, he realized he wasn't going to be able to leave the motel room. He had to be around for the phone to ring, and his confidence in the motel security had been slashed by the events of the night before.

He chuckled as he looked around. The blinds were closed, windows locked, and door bolted. Lockdown procedures in a motel room - he hadn't imagined himself ever doing this.

Somehow, he must've forgotten to do one of the lockdown procedures last night - or the perpetrators took a spare key from the front desk.

Either way, he couldn't leave and he couldn't succumb to sleep - they could come back and he wasn't going to risk his equipment going missing, and he definitely wasn't going to risk anything happening to me because they found out what he was doing.

Murray went to the little kitchenette, looking through the food we had just purchased a few days before. He smiled at the things he knew I loved, and realized he'd have to go through and eat everything that was there if he was stuck long enough.

He refused to be stuck that long.

When it was all over, he wanted to take me home and let me have all my favorite things. He wanted to care of me. He didn't want to enjoy those things without me. It felt wrong.

Next, he turned to the coffee. The motel had added extra, as he had requested before we had arrived for the cases, but now with this situation, it felt like it wasn't going to be enough. He'd ration as much as he could, but there was the possibility that he'd have to call the front desk and ask for more.

Hours passed. He hadn't had to make his first cup of coffee yet, which he considered a small victory.

Murray turned the television set on, and the rerun of the John Denver episode of "The Muppet Show" was playing.

He slouched against the headboard of the bed. This was my favorite episode - we had it recorded on tape at home.

"I know it might not be important to you, but it's important to me."

The phrase from our argument echoed in his head as songs were playing, and his heart sunk. He had said a lot of things he hadn't meant in that confrontation, and he was really beginning to regret every one of them.

Not that he had ever particularly enjoyed my obsession with John Denver - he had teased me about it which had been fine - but telling me it was an "idiotic obsession" and that "there's far more intelligent music to choose from" and "no we're not driving five hours in the middle of a case to go get concert tickets for some idiot and his guitar" was not anything close to what he actually felt. In all reality, he found it endearing and kinda cute. And he didn't mind some of the songs.

But that's not what he had said.

The episode was getting closer to finishing, and Murray found a few tears running down his cheeks.

When he got me home and safe, he would put this VHS in first.

At this moment, the phone began to ring again. It startled Murray, making him jump a little in shock before he bolted across the room to the phone.

"Hello?" Murray waited a moment, expecting a voice he hadn't heard before to tell him where he was going to drop their money to them.

Instead, a familiar voice, which he simultaneously was relieved and frustrated with.

"Jim, I..." he paused again, as Hopper explained that my friends had told him what was going on, and that he wanted to help.

Knowing his phone was probably tapped as to make sure he didn't get anyone involved, Murray was hesitant to allow him. However, knowing that whoever was tapping in probably didn't know Hopper was a cop, he might be able to use it to his advantage.

Although, he also realized that it would sound like he was hiring someone else, and not willing to risk anything, decided to turn Hopper down.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks for the offer, I've got it covered."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as Hopper replied. "Nope, I've got it. Thanks," and with that, he hung up the phone.

There were two reasons he cut this conversation short. The first, he just didn't want to risk going against the ransom note's instructions.

The second, he knew if he cut this conversation short, he could find the amount of time he had to keep the kidnapper on the phone.

He watched the computer expectantly, and the location did not connect. He'd have to come up with something to keep them just a little longer - maybe tell them he didn't have all the money and ask to give something else as collateral.

The rest of the day passed moderately slow, as he kept a careful eye on the phone that never ended up ringing.

First cup of coffee was made at 8 PM, later followed with a shot of vodka and a second cup at 3 AM.

For some reason, drinking his straight black coffee in the early hours of the morning, he began to understand why I didn't drink it like he did. Why I preferred sweeter things, like cocoa.

He eyed the tin of cocoa I had packed, and after about an hour of guilting himself out of drinking any, poured a cup of water and made himself some.

The sweetness hit his tongue like an avalanche compared to the coffee, which took him back a little bit. But as he took another sip, he swore he could've seen me through the steam coming off the mug, laughing over a late night game of marbles with our friends.

"Now wait, wait. She can't be cheating in her first game, she won't play it right if she learns by cheating."

My eyes found Murray's, mischievous as ever, over a mug of cocoa. "She won't cheat. I'll cheat for her."

Murray missed home. And he missed me.

As the sun came up at seven, Murray cursed quietly under his breath. It had been almost 24 hours since he had discovered I was gone. No calls, no indication of where he was going to finish negotiations.

And, as much as he had hoped this day would be the day to hear something, nothing happened.

Four cups of coffee.

Seven shots of vodka.

One more savored cup of cocoa.

Fifty. Two. Hours.

There was a knock on the door at fifty two hours since I had disappeared.

Murray was startled, but picked up his gun and held it behind the door as he took the handle in his opposite hand. He began to realize that he didn't know what to expect.

Taking a breath, he opened it, to reveal who he hadn't wanted to see.

He took Hopper by the sleeve of his shirt, and after darting his eyes around to look at the outside hallway, he slammed the door behind him.

"What in the hell are you doing here, Jim? I told you to stay home - stay away from here. I've got the bases covered."

"Murray - you obviously don't have the bases covered. Now listen, I came here on a lead, I think I might be able to help you if you'll shut up for five minutes."

Murray sat on the end of the bed, motioning to the theory board, folding his arms. "Be my guest."

Hopper pulled out a folder, beginning to pin some additional things to the board. Murray recognized a few of them - cases he was previously going to take once he had finished the first one.

There were other ransom notes that were added - and Murray began to see a connection. The notes had identical grammar issues to mine. The pictures that had been taken for the other people were taken from some of the same angles that ours had been taken from.

"Do you see what I'm seeing now?"

Murray stood up, standing next to Jim at the board. He drew a few more connections with the red string, and took another step back.

"Good thing you wore civilian clothes, Jim."

"Why's that?"

"I have some questions."

————

Murray paced the motel room. He had sent Hopper back to the houses of the people he had talked to just hours earlier.

After seeing the board with all of it together, Murray knew the few questions he had sent out were going to answer why they were all connected. He was just glad Hopper had seen it - the more time he would have taken, the more danger I would be in.

He made another cup of coffee, realizing he was beginning to hate the taste. He glanced at the cocoa tin yet again, and before he knew it, was drinking a mug of that instead of his coffee. It had enough sugar content that it practically had the same effect, he rationalized.

Soon enough, the sun was making its descent in the sky, and Murray's eyes shot open as he heard the rhythmic knock on the door.

He mentally smacked himself. He had fallen asleep from what was evidently a sugar crash from his three cups of cocoa. He couldn't be doing that - he had to be on the watch.

Scrambling, he got off the bed and opened the door for Hopper.

"Did you get..."

"Yep." Jim put the file folder down on the table, and sat across from Murray as he hurriedly scoured through the notes and pictures Hopper had collected.

It was as he had suspected - the first kidnapping had happened, subsequent blackmail, and when someone's friend began to help search or get the authorities involved, someone else went missing. It was a vicious cycle, and I had been the latest to go.

Murray took this information and added it to the board. Then, taking a seat back at the table, began looking through some newspapers he had asked Hopper to collect.

"What are you looking for now?"

"The desk in the photograph in the middle is custom made - and by the looks of it, has been collecting dust. If my assumption is correct, whoever owns that desk used to live around here - as they have the perfect hiding spots for taking pictures - so their desk must have been made in the area." Murray found the page he was looking for, and followed the line of furniture company names with his finger.

"Depending on humidity levels in that basement, dust can collect within the timeline of a few weeks or a few months to get to the level of dust that is on that desk. Meaning, their move must have been fairly recent, and that the company that made the desk is still in business, as there aren't any obvious signs of wear to indicate that it is older than a few months."

Hopper watched in amazement, and Murray tapped his finger on the page, underlining something and handing it to him.

"That's it. That's the place you need to go talk to. Only custom builder in the county - at least that's what they say. Ask them about a custom cherrywood... hold on... it may be mahogany, I can't tell too well from the lighting. But ask them about the custom desk with the waves and flowers on the legs. Ask for the name, they're friendly enough around here, they'll give it to you if you ask nicely."

Murray noticed that his friend was not moving, almost as if he was in shock.

"Come on, you've got to get going - we're running out of time." He began pushing him towards the door. "Oh, and when you find the name, look it up in all the phone books you can find - in state and out if you have to - in surrounding states like Indiana, or Wisconsin."

Hopper nodded, and left the motel room, leaving Murray alone again.

He hated that he wasn't the one going out and doing the research. He knew it was one of my favorite parts of going on cases with him - watching him theorize, dig through information nobody usually saw on the surface.

"I just want to be a part of you, Murray. I'm not asking for the world, Mur, I'm asking for you."

At the recollection of what I'd last said to him as he stood and looked at the board, Murray's heart cried. It was that line that had stopped the argument, and my tears that had come with it.

Murray had so much to say once he had me back, safe in his arms. A million apologies, and a deeper commitment to make me his first priority. He loved me way too much to let someone or something take me from him again.

He'd hold on tighter next time.

In this moment, the phone began to ring. Murray jumped, and with a shaking hand, held the phone and looked at the script he had written.

"Yes, this is Murray Bauman." He listened, the person's voice distorted, obviously to keep their identity a secret.

"You see, I've got as much money as I could into my account - but it is only about 3/4 of what you asked..." He rolled his eyes as the person declined the partial payment, again asking for the full amount.

"If I could have another day, 24 hours, I could have it all. My payment from my last case that was in Chicago should be coming through tomorrow morning... Please."

There was a pause that felt like an eternity. Murray practically held his breath, hoping they'd extend it long enough to get the location.

During this pause, Hopper opened the door. Murray held his hand up, trying to tell him to keep quiet.

"Alright Bauman. 24 hours. Meet at the park - with the full amount."

Hopper sneezed, and as the perpetrator was about to ask who it was, Murray slammed the phone into the receiver and hung up, putting his head in his hands.

"Dammit Jim - you probably just gave us away," looking at his watch, Murray felt tears collect, "and we didn't hit the time requirement to get location."

"I'm..."

The computer beeped. Murray's head shot up from his hands, looking at the flashing red location.

New Castle, Pennsylvania - he was astounded. 500 miles away.

Hopper closed the door softly behind him, coming to the table to set the file folder in front of Murray, who opened it.

The location in the folder matched the one on the computer exactly.

Murray chuckled, trying to pull his emotions back in check.

I was almost home.

"I also took the liberty of getting in contact with the cops over there, explained our evidence for a search warrant, and they said they'll wait for us to arrive - we can be there in just under eight hours if we leave now."

Within minutes, after recovering from his shock, Murray had everything packed - and had a paper coffee cup of hot chocolate to go with him in the car. He held the folder of evidence that he'd give to the cops in New Castle. The most recent picture - the proof of life - was on top.

The drive to New Castle was longer than any other drive Murray had been on. He knew it was because he wanted me safe, and that I wouldn't be until he arrived.

As they drove, Murray noticed so much along the road that he hadn't thought about in a while - places we had been and that meant something to us.

Murray found himself sharing these random thoughts with Hopper, who for once, actually seemed to be listening intently as he shared the story of our relationship.

"Murray, can I ask you an honest question?"

He was finishing chuckling over telling Hopper how we had decided to move to Sesser, and replied "Of course. What, you want to know my deep dark secrets?"

"Why don't you marry her?"

Murray paused, finishing the last of his hot chocolate. He looked out the window.

"I don't know if..."

"We all know she wants to, so that's..."

"I don't know if I'm good enough for her. Don't know if I'm really what she wants - more, if I could be everything she wants. It has nothing to do with her and everything to do with... with me."

Hopper didn't say anything for a minute, but came back with "Murray, if she's stuck around this long, you're the one she wants - vodka and all."

Murray chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "I guess you're right."

Within minutes of this conversation, Murray was out cold. Hopper smiled, turning the radio on softly and continuing to drive.

——

"Hey, Murray, we're here."

Murray stretched awake, cursing under his breath. "You shouldn't have let me sleep."

"Well, considering the fact that you haven't slept for more than three hours in almost three days, and that you weren't the one driving, I thought I'd let ya."

Murray nodded, shrugging his shoulders a bit as they pulled up to where the cops had parked. It was a little ways down the street, as to not raise suspicion.

The chief had Murray show him the folder, and he recounted the events leading up to and following my disappearance, and how he was sure that when they got down there, the other people from the same area would be found.

All dressed in civilian clothes, the force stopped at the park across the street from where the location was. Murray also recognized the people he had taken cases from - the people who's cases may actually all be the same.

The problem? The houses were identical, and the police confirmed that the only phone in either was the phone booth that sat in the middle of the two.

It was seven in the morning. Murray pulled out the proof of life picture, looking it over. "Help me out, lover - where are you?"

The cops were arguing over which house it was, and ultimately decided on the house on the left.

Before they were going to execute their plan, Murray slammed the picture on their table.

"Sir, we need you to stay back so we can..."

"No, I need you to listen to me. You're wrong."

They began to argue with him, but Hopper silenced them, asking for just a couple minutes so Murray could explain.

"You see, I would assume, at first, that this house on the left is where she is - where all of them are. However, the sun is shining through the basement window onto the desk, which means it has to have been after sunrise, where at that time, it would be shining into the basement window of the left house. But with how bright the sun is in the picture, it has to be closer to noon at the very least - which means there is a certain time it could sit between the houses into the basement of the house on the right."

"That could mean either house - they're the exact same, there are windows on both sides."

"Right, but if I may," Murray took the magnifying glass and put it over the desk - something he had only noticed this morning.

"The bastards didn't think to take their clock off the desk. Look at the time - 12:47. It's the house on the right."

Finally beginning to realize Murray knew what he was talking about, the cops adjusted their plan to the house on the right.

Murray watched from across the street - as there were a lot of trees and bushes, he was able to see some of what was going on, up until the door shut and their operation was in place.

The next ten minutes were the longest of his life. Things could go wrong - they could go terribly wrong if the two decoys didn't do their job properly.

"Murray, I just want to go home."

"Me too, lover," Murray thought to himself, wishing he had taken me home that night instead of letting all this happen, "me too."

After what felt like an eternity, the cops came out of the house, with a woman in handcuffs. They signaled to Murray that he was safe to come out and go into the house, but before he did, he approached them before they could put her in the cop car.

"Bauman, I told you, there would be consequences if you got the cops involved."

"Sir, everyone is okay - they're exhausted, but no one has been seriously injured."

Murray's shoulders relaxed at their statement, then turned back to the woman.

"Next time you want to threaten me and my family, learn how to spell, you kidnapping bitch." And with that, he punched her square in the jaw, making her quite upset.

He half expected the cops to detain him, but with some sly smirks, didn't say a word and put the woman in the car.

"Murray," Hopper called, "come on, they're freeing everyone. She's here."

Murray followed Hopper down the stairs, his heart racing, not quite knowing what to expect.

The basement - as he had suspected, was housing the people that had gone missing - they were all in decent shape, but wrists and ankles were swollen from being tied up.

His eyes frantically searched the room - but he found the desk, and then, me.

I was safe.

He noticed that the first thing that was done was taking the gag off, and mine had already been removed, as I seemed to be trying to swallow.

My eyes began to look around the room, and soon, they locked with his, and there was a mutual relief in just seeing each other.

Murray fell to his knees in front of my chair as Hopper began taking the rope apart on the back of my chair.

"I knew you'd come." I smiled, a single tear falling from my eye as Murray wiped it away, beginning to shed a few of his own.

"I'm sorry I..." he began, his words choking in his throat with emotion as our foreheads touched.

"I love you Murray."

My ties loosened, and unable to keep myself up, I fell forward into Murray's lap, and he cradled me against him, my head in the crook of his neck as we both continued to cry.

"I love you." He started, only able to say that phrase over and over and over.

The more he said it, the more it was true.

I breathed in deeply, taking in his scent that I had missed so much. In his arms, I finally felt calm and passed out, which made Murray anxious. Hopper reassured him that I would get the help I needed, and that the safety I found in his arms is what helped my body to relax after what had surely been a rough 72 hours.

The paramedics came over to us, asking Murray if they could take me to the hospital to get checked out - I hadn't eaten or had fluids for three days.

Murray let them take me from him ever so reluctantly. He knew I would need the help, but he just didn't want anyone taking me from his arms anymore - no matter the circumstances. But this time, he'd allow it.

Hopper helped him off the floor, and he watched them put me in an ambulance and drive away.

"I won't be taking cases for a while. I think we'll just be home. Together."

"I don't think you'll have to." At Jim's remark, Murray raised an eyebrow. Jim handed him an envelope, which made him more confused.

Nonetheless, he opened it, finding not only stacks of cash, but several checks of various amounts.

"Your cases."

"But I..."

"You found them all - and they all paid."

Murray found tears in his eyes again. "Jim, you have to take some of this - it's practically a years worth... no, maybe even two years - and I couldn't have found her without you."

"Murray, I can't take anything from you. I'm just doing what a good friend would."

Murray couldn't make eye contact with Hopper, which he understood. They walked back to the car in silence.

Starting it up, Murray finally was able to ask if they had told Hopper what hospital I'd be in. He confirmed that they had.

Murray began to say something, but stopped.

"What were you going to say?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"Shoot."

"I have a couple stops we need to make before we get to the hospital."

——

Murray walked through the jewelry store, studying ring after ring based on the picture he had in his wallet. Hopper followed around with a smug expression, chuckling to himself every now and then.

"AHA!" Murray aggressively tapped the glass. "That's the one... well, almost. It just needs to be adjusted to the right size and there's actually a different cut of stone in the middle but that's the one."

The jeweler let out a sigh of relief, as they had been looking for 45 minutes, with Murray telling the man to stop offering him suggestions at one point, because "this has to be perfect, and you don't know what perfect looks like."

As the man put the ring up out in the open, Murray smiled. "How much is it for the alterations?"

He listed some price, and said it would be a couple weeks. Hopper nodded - that was normal, and surely Murray would...

Taking out his envelope, Murray put down the agreed payment, plus extra - a fair amount. "That should cover the cost, and cut the time down to an hour, shouldn't it?"

The man's eyes widened, and nodded enthusiastically as he took the ring into the back room.

Murray smirked, laughing heartily at the look on Hopper's face.

It was actually within a half an hour that it was ready - with the caveat that Murray would have to let the ring set for a few days, as the different cut of stone would need to finish settling.

He agreed, and thanked them as he followed Hopper out the door to the car.

"Now, I know what you're thinking - I spent too much money, but for her - anything."

Hopper laughed. "I mean, I just didn't think that you'd pay them to move up the production time - did you see that man's face?"

Murray chuckled, tucking the ring box in his suitcase.

———

"Murray, you can stop pacing. She's okay."

Hopper's comment didn't stop Murray's steps. He had insisted on seeing me as soon as he got there - to make sure I was okay - and while I was relaxed and asleep, he was still worried. He hoped to catch me as soon as I woke up - no matter how many doctors he had to push through.

"I don't have that guarantee until I can hold her."

A nurse rushed past him, and into my room - and in moments, there was a group of them in there.

He stood in the hallway, watching them crowd in the small room - knowing that wasn't going to help my anxiety. However, the doctors weren't just going to let him through, since he didn't have a reason...

"Murray!" I cried from the room, and that was enough for Murray to push through the crowd to get to me.

"I just want my Murray - please..." I had tears forming in my eyes, the amount of people surrounding me making me feel incredibly overwhelmed, since I had just woken up.

Meanwhile, Murray had shoved through the door, trying to get through the rest of the people that were hunched over my bed.

Hearing my pleas with the doctors that weren't listening gave him more drive - they couldn't do this, it was unethical and I needed space.

"Get out of my way - she's overwhelmed, can't you see?" Murray shoved nurse after nurse, apologizing under his breath as he got past them.

"Murray!" I relaxed against the back of the bed as he finished shoving the nurses away.

"It's alright love, I'm here." He kissed my forehead, cradling my face in his hand.

The nurses began complaining, but with a swift "Get out of here, dammit - you can come and evaluate later!" from Murray, they were out of the room.

As soon as they were all gone, Murray planted soft kisses all over my face as he held it between his hands. My hands met his elbows, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as tears began to fall down both our cheeks.

"I love you."

He paused, blushing a bit. "I love you too. And I'm sorry..."

Our lips met, and he relaxed into it.

"I know, Mur." I whispered, running my fingers through his beard. "I know."

A minute or so later, Hopper walked in. "Whoa, whoa lovebirds - you aren't married yet."

Murray's head shot back and he looked at him with wide eyes that told Hopper he hadn't offered the ring yet. They looked at each other, not sure what to say to get out of it.

"You've never seen pre-marital kissing, Hopper? Pretty normal in any relationship if you ask me." I laughed, and Murray thanked the stars I had a sense of humor that saved him from having to explain anything.

"Yeah, Jim. Let me demonstrate." He turned to me, a facetious look in his eye that made me laugh.

"Well, maybe you should let your visitors in before you do - I don't think they're old enough for this."

Murray smiled, taking my hand and scooting further in the bed so there was space next to me.

I gave him a questioning look, but as soon as my friend walked in the door, I beamed.

"My heavens, I didn't expect to see you here."

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?" She came and sat next to me. "I'm just glad you're safe."

"She's actually part of the reason I was able to get to you so quickly." Murray gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "She called Jim and told him what was going on."

I took her hands in mine. "Thank you."

"It's just what a good friend does."

"No, really." Murray whispered, making her turn to look at him. "Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."

She smiled.

"Besides, apparently it took an event like this for us to hear the update about your boyfriend." He chuckled.

"He's attempting to find a place to park his van - he dropped me off so I could come see you faster." She paused. "Speaking of which, I should probably go find him and show him where your room is."

She left the room, and the three of us didn't say anything for a minute. Murray moved to my side, putting his arm around me.

"Thank you, Hop. I know I don't know the whole story yet, but thank you for helping Murray."

He nodded. "You mean a lot to us over in Hawkins - got to make sure we have you taken care of. Murray does a good job - this one was just out of his control - and I was happy to step in and help a friend."

Murray smiled as I rested my head against his shoulder.

The rest of the day was spent laughing - my friend came back with her boyfriend, and we just sat around and talked.

As it came closer to evening, our friends left to go and head on home. I thanked them for coming, and Murray showed them out, then making his way back to my side.

"How are you feeling, lover?"

I smiled. "Better now that you're here."

"It's getting late - you need some rest. They said you might get discharged in the morning."

"That would be good. I want you to take me home."

"I will."

He stood, and I took his hand.

"Don't leave me, please."

"There's another bed by the window - I'll be right here."

"I need you to hold me. Mur, please."

Murray nodded. "Alright love, let me get changed."

Within minutes, he slid into bed next to me, taking me into his arms.

In the dim light, I studied him as he ran a soft hand through my hair, foreheads resting against each other.

"Please don't leave."

"I'm right here, love. I'm not going anywhere." His lips met mine, and I slowly drifted into sleep.

———

I awoke with a start, having relived some of my experience in a nightmare. My heart rate went up, making me shake.

"Hey, I'm right here. I've got you. You're safe."

I looked at Murray, and he took my hand in his, putting it on his chest over his heart. "I'm right here."

I matched his breathing, and began to relax, putting my head in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent again.

He snuggled closer, holding me to him and running a reassuring hand over my back until I fell asleep.

———

As Murray had hoped, I was discharged in the morning.

The cops from the area had taken Hopper back to where the cases originally were, and he drove Murray's car back to New Castle with our luggage.

We waved to Hopper from the car window as he drove away, and Murray looked over at me.

"It's a long drive - if you need to stop and rest, we can do it any time, okay?"

"Okay." I smiled, taking his hand.

We did end up stopping about halfway - and I slept in the backseat for a few hours.

As we pulled into the gravel driveway, I took a deep breath.

We were finally home.

Murray came around, and opened my door for me, helping me out of the car.

He led me to the front door, and unlocked it, allowing us to enter.

We were both a little shocked - we hadn't exactly left the house tidy, but everything was in its proper place - there were flowers on the counter, along with a slew of snacks - and a note.

Making our way into the kitchen, Murray read the note, and laughed.

"Those sneaky little jerks!" He showed me the note - our friends from Hawkins had stopped on their way home, and had done all this for us - dinner was in the fridge, we just had to put it in the oven.

"They're so sweet - we'll have to have them over sometime."

"I think that's a great idea." He kissed the top of my head. "Now, let's get you resting - you have some recovery work ahead of you."

I settled on the couch, and didn't do anything, as Murray had requested. He left to go get the luggage from the car, and hurried upstairs with it.

Upon arriving in the bedroom, he immediately took the ring box out, and opened it. He wasn't quite sure when he wanted to bring it up - this week had been enough emotionally - and while it would be positive, he didn't want to add so much on top of everything else.

He resolved that he would bring it out when I was feeling better, and he could have something planned - something wildly amazing that I deserved. And with that, he put the box in the top drawer under all his socks in the back.

Murray made his way back downstairs, putting a VHS in the player and dinner in the oven before enveloping me in his arms.

I saw that it was my favorite Muppet Show episode - the one with John Denver. I blushed, and he kissed my cheek.

As Johns first song came up, I went quiet - which made Murray's heart hurt just a little bit. Murray knew that I knew all of these songs word for word - and he also knew part of my silence was because I didn't want to annoy him.

Unbeknownst to me, Murray had learned the words to these songs as I had been gone - he'd recorded it when it came on the television, and had been listening ever since.

So, as John Denver began to sing, Murray Bauman sang along with him.

I looked up at him in shock - Murray had never expressed any sort of interest in silly things like the muppets - but now he knew the song word for word?

Murray took this opportunity to kiss me, pulling me impossibly closer.

He hadn't even told me about the concert tickets yet.

---

previous part - Delta Dawn ♡ next part - Travelin' Man