𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍 - home sweet home

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 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 everything within Scarlet to keep herself awake when they'd all manage to stumble back into the Byers' residence. Max and Steve had aided her to the couch, their arms around her shoulders and waist, hoisting her body weight onto their forms. She had slumped the moment her body found the plush and old cushions atop the couch.

 Her legs had scarcely worked when the car had faltered to a stop — Steve had been the one driving, of course — he had pierced Max the most withering glare any of them had ever seen when she'd piped up with a wide-spread grin asking if she could drive them back.

 Steve had rushed around to Scarlet's side while Max heaved an arm over her shoulders; leaving the three young boys to haul everything from the car and unload it within the living room.

 Scarlet laid there with her eyes shut, lashes resting upon the apples of her cheeks. She had no idea what would come next, or where she would go. She had no home, no shelter or guarantee of safety; nobody to quell the unease within her gut at the mere thought of remaining within Hawkins.

 So as her fingers twitched by her side, as the bruises on her body flared painfully, Scarlet only wished her mind would fall silent. She focused on the noises around her; the shuffling of Dustin's shoes as he lugged a particularly heavy bag inside the house. The slight hop to Max's step as she kept only a pace away from Scarlet, feeling as though she were on top of the world.

 Max had even taken a moment to glare at a spot of blood Billy had left behind before scrambling from the Byers' home. If she hadn't an audience, Max would have likely flashed it her middle finger.

 Then Scarlet heard the light patter of Steve perusing his way nearer. The echo of a glass being positioned on the table behind her, and the racket of pills rattling in a pot. He let out a heaving sigh as he lifted Scarlet's feet and slumped to the couch, uncaring if the mud on her shoes spoiled his already grass-stained jeans.

 She cracked an eye open, her brow climbing further up her forehead, "Are you comfortable?"

 Steve buried his head against the back of the couch, drooping it to the side as he smiled lazily, it seemed that Steve hadn't yet recovered from his fight either, "Yeah, actually." He sniffed through his swollen nose, only to groan as water flooded into his eyes, "Shit, I think that bastard actually broke my nose."

 Scarlet had snorted. The tone in which he had spoken was nasally as he dabbed at his purple nose... yet he didn't sound hurt. His voice wasn't tightened by pain... he just sounded... quite annoyed, "You sound more offended at that than anything else."

 "Well yeah, I got my ass handed to me by a guy with a mullet."

 A small laugh echoed from the back of Scarlet's throat, causing her to wheeze as her stomach constricted, disturbing the bruises buried far beneath her skin, "Oh, so that's the problem?"

 Steve only pouted, turning away from her once more. But then as he sat there in a silent huff and ever so slightly shifted his body, Steve could feel the wince from the girl sprawled upon the couch, "How are you feeling?"

 "I'm no different than when you asked five minutes ago, I promise."

 Steve had been checking in periodically; apparently, he'd thought she'd either gotten a concussion or had actually... died, when she'd dozed off the first time. She'd awoken to Max snorting as she held a finger below Scarlet's nose, checking for a puff of warm air.

 Steve's cheeks had blossomed a rather bright shade of red before he'd cleared his throat, turned his back and hollered at the children to get a move on.

 It was quite endearing, honestly. He didn't know her well, or at all, really and yet he made sure to keep as heavy an eye on her as he did the children spread around the room. Scarlet would catch him doing a little headcount here and there, counting on his fingers as he listed off the children.

 "Just making sure Eleven doesn't have a reason to launch me out of the window," Steve responded, his finger poking at the horrendous bruise that was smothering his cheek. It burned and flared with each touch, "Not to mention the fact that we all thought you had, you know, exploded down there."

 Scarlet rose at that, hands planted by her sides as she heaved herself higher, "You thought I what?"

 It did sound silly, now that Steve thought about it. He hastened to cover his back, wishing that Max wasn't presently staring him down with a look flooded with utter amusement, "Well we just thought — You kinda just —" He made an odd gesture with his hands, wiggling his fingers as though he was the one conjuring a palm-full of crimson mist, "— and then there was red... Everywhere."

 "So the logical conclusion that all of you —" Scarlet turned her sights to the children, and even from her peripheral, she could see Steve deflate. Max turned her head, a smile still on her face whilst Lucas, Mike and Dustin all looked relatively sheepish, "— Came up with... was me... exploding?"

 Lucas blinked, a sheepish hand crawling to tangle within the tight coils at the base of his skull, "Uh... Yeah?"

 "Right." Scarlet breathed, a small laugh twisting within her words, coiling around them like a serpent, "Well, I promise that if I ever do that again, I'll let you know that I'm not just going to combust, okay?"

 Mike peered up from the dustpan he was currently sweeping shards of blood-soaked china into, he spied a small flower painted upon one, a dribble of blood falling from a petal, "What was that, anyway? You just... I mean you did explode. All of that power just came out of nowhere."

 "He's right," Dustin nodded, tossing his cap to the side as he peeled the sweat-sodden curls from his forehead. He bent to pick up a book that had somehow gotten flung to the ground amidst Billy's rampage, "You did kind of just... burst. It was like a shockwave, it came out of the cave and beamed into the sky."

 Scarlet lowered herself back down to the plushness of the couch. Her body was still fatigued; it was the most she'd used her powers in so very long. Going from weaving within Will's mind, fighting the Mind Flayer off for him... to letting out such vast power within the tunnels. She was spent. Her mind was fuzzy, her breathing still had yet to level.

 Her fingers twisted with one another, nails digging into her own flesh and leaving behind marks that would take some time to fade away, "I've only done that once before... when I escaped the lab." She swallowed harshly, feeling as though razor blades had become lodged in her throat, "It killed people, a lot of them. So for the sake of keeping others safe... from me... I keep all of that buried."

 It was strange, the those surrounding her offered such a sense of comfort that Scarlet felt a pull to divulge everything she'd ever known. A wobbly smile came to her lips, cracked and splintered like an old and abandoned mirror as she peeked at Steve, "That's why I couldn't let you stay. I didn't know — I don't know if I'd have been able to stop it from getting you, too."

 Steve couldn't fathom it, he really couldn't. She saved his ass back in those tunnels and yet there she sat with guilt in her eyes as she stared him down. Her eyes fell from whiskey, only to become a puddle of molten chocolate. He shook his head, "You don't have to explain. I get it. I got it before you said any of that. We don't know if the dogs —" he glared at Dustin as the boy parted his lips to correct him, "— would have avoided me like they did with you... But, for the record, I doubt you would've hurt me"

 He had said it so easily, as though he was merely speaking of the weather just outside the window. Scarlet couldn't quite comprehend the confidence he held for her; they barely knew each other... and yet he trusted her — he trusted her power — not to harm him.

 "You saved us." Max piped up, her tone even as she tried to appear nonchalant and unfeeling. It had snapped Scarlet's lingering gaze from Steve's cheek.

 The reality was, whenever Scarlet took her hand or checked her face for any scrapes and cuts... whenever Scarlet took her place in front of them all and acted as a shield... Max could only feel a burst of warmth erupt within her chest. Longing. It had been something she hoped for with Billy, but that had never come. It never would.

 Scarlet moved to retaliate, the voices in her head telling her that she was nothing but a monster lurking within the darkness had ascended once more, feeding on the words they all sprouted. It devoured their compliments, chewed on their praises and stomped on their care.

 It always happened. Whenever she'd blossom with pride at her own accomplishments; the darkness within her own head would claw past her defences and try to swallow her whole. It had rendered her immobile countless times. Left her alone in her bed with nothing but a hollow heart and shallow breathing.

 But before that could happen, the door opened and in ran solace. In ran Eleven.

 Her shoes squeezed and stomped upon the wooden floor as she bolted inside. Her head whipped around, darting from side to side as the hairs that had fallen free from their gel prison moved in time. Her top lip was smothered in blood, her eyes had dark plum-coloured circles buried beneath them, but even still, the young girl squeezed Mike with just as much strength as he squeezed her.

 Hopper made his way into the room, eyes falling upon each of the children. It was obvious he was still trying to recall each of their names. His mouth parted, mumbling a number as he counted them up... Then, unfortunately, his eyes found Steve. Or, more accurately, they found the bruises littering his skin.

 Hopper's jaw tensed, a rather vigorous tick was well beyond visible, as was the vein pulsating on his neck, "What the hell happened to you?" His gaze slid to Scarlet who tipped her head towards him, "Jesus."

 The contusions on their faces were as swarthy as matured wine, the blood still around their fresh cuts had dried, and a murky maroon enveloped each graze and slice within their skin like an old and ratty blanket. Steve's swollen eye practically glared at Hopper, as did the bump on his nose.

 Hopper dragged his calloused hand down his face with all the energy of a tired father ready for retirement. Then his eyes landed on Scarlet once more, lips ready to part and ask for some sort of explanation as to why they looked as though they'd fought ten rounds with a damn Demogorgon. Or perhaps why Joyce's house was an absolute mess... or maybe even why Max still had her goggles around her neck, why Lucas still had a pair of garish gloves clinging to his fingers...

 But Eleven had beaten him to the punch. She had unravelled from Mike the moment Hopper had spoken, and her eyes had blown wide as she looked at her sister with nothing but worry. She skidded to her knees beside the couch and ignored the banging at the base of her skull, "Are you okay?"

 Scarlet could only smile, her eyes narrowing with pure happiness at the sight of her littlest sister. The girl who had saved them all. Her hand darted out, curling around Eleven's neck as she pulled her close, "I'm okay, El, I'm okay. Are you?"

 Eleven nodded into Scarlet's shoulder, sniffling as silently as she possibly could, "What happened?"

 "She beat the shit out of some Demo-dogs!" Dustin exclaimed, suddenly shrinking when all eyes were on him.

 Steve's hand had smacked against his own forehead, a resounding CLAP! ringing out; they had all planned to keep their little... excursion a secret.

 Scarlet sighed out, a heavy breath warming Eleven's cheek as she tugged away. Her little sister peered at her with wide brown eyes, ones that somehow looked so similar to her own even despite their dissimilar DNA. They both smiled and Scarlet couldn't help but plant a kiss upon her forehead, "You did it."

 It appeared that whilst Dustin had scurried away to place some book atop a high shelf, whilst Mike stood back with a smile as Eleven grinned at her sister...  while Steve was happily basking in the fact that Jim Hopper's narrowed eyes were no longer burning holes through his face... Hopper hadn't forgotten what Dustin had said. Nor did he brush it aside.

 "You did what?" Hopper bit out through gritted teeth that threatened to crack.

 That was not a pleasant conversation to have; as Scarlet had predicted, Hopper had yelled until the vein on his forehead came close to bursting. His face had turned as bright and as red as a ripe tomato... But then he'd slumped back in a chair, almost rocking back on two legs as he exhaled.

 He understood. He was angry, and rightfully so — the children had been put in danger... but that danger had led to giving Eleven the time she had needed to seal the gate shut. It had given him less of a fight. From what Hopper could recall, just ten Demo-dogs had been plugged with glinting bullets. Just ten.

 So, when a tense silence as thick as crystallising honey had passed, Hopper had risen from his seat and taken his place beside Eleven. His knees had bent as he lowered himself to the ground, an arm slowly winding around Eleven's shoulder, pulling her close... then he'd taken Scarlet's hand and merely uttered a thank you.

 When the Byers had arrived home, Scarlet had watched on with fatigue threatening to drag her into the darkness as Hopper swiftly plied little Will Byers from his big brother's arms. Jonathan had been hesitant to let go, but Scarlet had seen Nancy take his hand, her thumb smoothing his sweat-sodden skin.

 Scarlet had heard the little boy mutter something, and it had made Hopper stop in the very centre of the room. He seemed to contemplate for a moment... Hopper's eyes had flicked to Will's bedroom, and then to Scarlet herself.

 He shook his head, lightly smiling at the little boy in his arms who weighed about as much as a feather.

 Scarlet had perked when footsteps thudded her way.

 Hopper lowered himself once more, and for the first time, Scarlet had been able to see Will as he should have been — alive, in control and free. He blinked at her, wide brown eyes that rivalled her own stared with utter awe... Like she was a superhero.

 "You..." He whispered, "You were in my head. You fought the Mind Flayer." His voice shattered like a glass toppling to the floor, spilling free all of its contents, "You saved me."

 Scarlet winced, teeth clashing together as she struggled to sit higher. As ever, Scarlet undermined her own actions. She only believed that Will Byers was a boy who deserved a damn break... that she could have done more. So that look in his eyes... the one that made her feel small and humbled; she couldn't bear another child looking at her as though she'd hung the moon with her bare hands, "I just gave you some time —"

 "— You don't know me."

 "I didn't need to."

 Those for words had sent poor Joyce Byers into a tizzy. Tears had blossomed like a flower in spring, shooting from the ground as petals unfurled with greed, soon to wilt and topple towards the ground. They slipped from her eyes and she had to turn to Jonathan, she had to bury her head into his shoulder.

 Will smiled, and Scarlet truly thought the world had stopped for a moment. She'd only ever seen him with a ghastly gleam to his skin. A fear-stricken tone to his voice... and utter terror in his eyes. Now he just looked like a little boy.

 She couldn't help but mirror his expression; a slow and delicate curl of the lips, slight creases by the eyes. Her finger swiped away a strand of saturated hair that had clung to his forehead, "You don't have to thank me, okay? You don't deserve what happened to you, I'd help you a thousand times over."

 The following month had been more than eventful.

 Scarlet had been riddled with an unsettling feeling in the very depths of her gut once the Byers home had settled down. Everyone had taken their seats, stewing in the silence, or swapping stories.

 The kids had their fill of the theatrics; Dustin had recalled their endeavours within the tunnels with wild gestures and sound effects muttered from his tongue — he did, however, receive a smack to the back of his head from Max who had only pointed Scarlet's way.

 She had dozed off, finally letting the fatigue that plagued her body and mind take over and pull her beneath the waves. Her chest rose and fell softly, small breaths falling from her ever so slightly parted lips. Warm air brushed her chin and fluttered from her nose while Eleven cleared away the remaining blood with gentle movements.

 Dustin grimaced and lowered his tone. He whispered with such ferocity that Mike and Lucas — who had witnessed the very same events as he — found themselves gripping the edges of their chairs when Dustin had finally delved into the power Scarlet had exhibited.

 Eleven had smiled as she too slumped against the couch listening intently. Her legs were splayed on the wooden floor, her back planted against the very front of the couch... had she tossed her head back, or even lightly craned it, the curls that had sprung free from the gel atop her skull would have brushed her sister's arm.

 They all gave the girls a moment, a few hours to recuperate from the war they'd both fought. They hadn't been side by side, and yet they had helped one another in ways far beyond their own comprehension.

 But then the time had finally come where Scarlet had to face her fears; the future. When she'd awoken with a heavy pounding still echoing within her skull, with aches still throbbing over her skin and bones... she had almost choked. She had almost ran.

 Running away was easier than one might have thought, for Scarlet at least. She could have easily pushed from the couch, barged out of the door and disappeared into the night. She could have simply left but a memory of herself behind.

 But when the fear within her heart had told her to run as far as she possibly could — for who could ever want to keep her — Eleven had tanged her fingers within her own.

 Scarlet had been brought back, forced to rise above the waves that filtered through her lips and trailed up her nose... she didn't drown.

 She had been brought to the kitchen table, a single yellow light glinting dully above Hopper who sat at attention with a cigarette dangling between his lips. He had taken a long drag, smoke billowing up and fading into the limelight.

 "Scarlet, huh?" He had muttered, stubbing the cigarette within an old ashtray. The pitiful embers flickered out, and Hopper met her eyes with the slightest tick to his lips, "Not bad."

 She had glanced behind her, watching as Max slumped against Lucas. As Mike paced the room, waiting for Joyce to finally let him see Will, and as Dustin and Steve muttered quietly between themselves... it looked as though they were bickering once more, "They picked it."

 Eleven had remained silent, but there had been a jitter to her movements. An untouchable smile painted on her lips. She was still spent; wine-coloured smears still resided beneath her eyes and her top lip was still stained with the remnants of her own blood... but the twinkle within those doe eyes had brought a sense of comfort to Scarlet.

 Hopper pushed the ashtray aside. It scraped on the wood, and jolted over an indent made by a stray butter knife. He glanced at Eleven, "We've had a talk."

 Eleven — who had seemed about ready to burst like a fluster of confetti — surged forwards. She practically vaulted over the table, a hand scrambling to take her sisters, "Stay. Stay... with us."

 Scarlet had been frozen. She had felt as though December had blown by and carried a bundle of ice and snow with it. She had been trapped beneath a crystallised blanket of frost; each flake causing her limbs to seize, and her heart to shudder.

 She had been too afraid to move her eyes from Elevens; to see that inevitable look from Hopper that would douse her in ice water and rob her of all hope. It wasn't something she could do again — to think a family wanted her. To think that somebody would offer her safety even despite the fact that she could care for herself.

 But she hadn't needed to move her gaze.

 Hopper's gruff tone that she had somehow already grown so very accustomed to... had changed. As it met her ears, it was as soft as a shallow breeze in the midst of summer. Rather than ice water chilling her bones, his words were but a caress of warmth and solace.

 "I'm not gonna turn you away, kid. You've got a home with me — us."

 It had been strange for Scarlet to find herself as part of a family. Even if that family did already consist of a gruff Chief of Police that had certainly bit off more than he could chew and a super-powered thirteen-year-old girl who had managed to stumble into her life with but a picture in her hand.

 But when she had taken a break from sweeping up the old cabin to watch as Hopper forced Eleven to take his hands and dance to whatever song flittered through the air... she knew that she'd found her home. Her family.

 They had cleaned for days. Glass had been everywhere; lodged into the walls, glossed over the wooden floor. The bookcase that had once stood in the corner had toppled over, and its contents had fallen everywhere. Stray crumpled pages mingled with the glass and fluttered with the swift winter breeze that tangled in the air.

 It had taken time, and it had certainly taken them patience... But the cabin had been restored. It was a small building with cracks still crawling across the foundations; just like their small family. None of them, no matter how closely they looked at the chips in the wooden floor, the water damage by the kitchen, or even the odd stain in the ceiling... Neither of the three could fault their home.

 There were two bedrooms; one fit for Hopper who secured his privacy with an old bedsheet, and one for Eleven. Nancy had been kind enough to drop off some of the trinkets from her childhood; some old beads her fourteen-year-old self had forged into jewellery. Some books she'd once read from back to front... only to start again. Even some old clothes and makeup that Nancy could no longer find a use for.

 Eleven had been overjoyed to tack a poster to her wall. To dig out the old cassette player and flourish it proudly atop her dresser.

 There had been another box; all of the things that Nancy could think of for Scarlet. Old clothes that wouldn't quite fit Eleven, books she'd studied from back to front during her previous school years, old cassette tapes and a walkman that had definitely seen better days... but still worked perfectly. 

 There was an overhanging loft. Upon their arrival at the cabin, it had been clustered with old papers and old clothes that had gathered dust from years of being left to rot. There had been bundles of fluttering spiderwebs that both Eleven and Scarlet had refused to even glance at — Hopper had huffed and puffed as he swatted them away with a broom.

 There had been boxes of old photographs that Scarlet had found; she had untucked one nestled within a mahogany frame. Dust had been smeared over the glass, soon wiped away by the cuff of her sleeve.

 Hopper had planted a hand on her shoulder, a look of utter grief glittering in his eyes as the pair of them stared down at a little girl. He hadn't said much, but he hadn't needed to. Sara. That was all he supplied and Scarlet knew well enough not to utter a word as she pieced the puzzle together.

 Nothing but a meaningful glance had been shared. Scarlet had tucked it away, patting the hand on her shoulder as she heaved the box into her arms and carefully trailed down the rickety ladder.

 The loft had almost sparkled when they'd finished with it. Eleven had drooped with dust branding her cheeks. Hopper had wheezed and tossed the broom aside while Scarlet had wilted against the ladder with cheeks a blazing red.

 Everything had been put into place; where dust, cobwebs and deserted memories had once lay now resided a bed that creaked with every movement, an old dresser with chips dotted upon the wood, and a mirror that just wouldn't quite shine like a star, no matter how hard they scrubbed it. But it was enough. It was perfect.

 To most, it would have looked as it appeared; an old cabin in the depths of the woods with some rot and some mould... But for Scarlet, it was... well, it was home, and that was a word that hadn't been used for so very long. 

 The moment her shoes squeaked past the door, the second she slumped atop the couch and glanced around their tiny little abode... she felt safe. There was no desire to grapple for her powers and cloak herself with crimson, no fear of someone coming to steal her away.

 She finally felt as though she belonged.

 She was with her family. The family that had picked her.

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28-12-2019

edited version: 02-07-2022

I LIED!!! HAHA!! there was supposed to be just this chapter left for act one, but i added extra content and interactions so there will be another to finish off with the meeting with Ownes and the Snow Ball. AND i want to write a couple of one-shots for what scarlet gets up to between the end of season 2 and the beginning of season 3.

if you have any requests for a one-shot taking place during that time, let me know here!

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part (this is just to ensure people remain engaged and supportive, as well as to allow me to see what you all enjoyed most about each chapter!)