𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 - poison or promethium?

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 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 didn't know when to leave things alone.

 Scarlet and Robin had propped themselves atop a stack of boxes, somewhat uncaring at the thought of vials of bubbling goo resting within them. They still had absolutely no idea what the liquid was, whether it was dangerous — no. That was a dumb thought, of course it was dangerous.

 But even despite that little tidbit, Erica seemed to have deemed it necessary to begin battering one of the vials as hard as she possibly could. The glass bounced off the metal barrel she'd taken to assaulting each time, neither a dent nor a crack to be seen — though that didn't mean that Scarlet and Robin were alright with her chosen activity.

 "Erica!" Scarlet hissed while Robin had already propelled herself from the seat she'd taken. Her freckled fingers grappled for the vial, tearing it away from the little girl with ease.

 Robin received a scowl in return but she couldn't have cared less if she tried. Her eyes narrowed upon Erica, a finger waving pointedly through the air, "We don't even know what this stuff is."

 The little girl's shoulders only heaved high, and fell back in place; a hearty shrug paired with a cock of the head. Erica's hair beads jingled in time, "It could be useful."

 "And how is this going to be useful if we don't even know what it is?"

 "We can survive down here for a long time without food, but if the human body doesn't get water... it will die."

 "Valid point," Robin chimed, and then her voice lowered to a drawl once more, "Thing is, that green goo isn't water."

 Erica almost seemed to weigh her options, for her head lolled to and fro, eyes fixated on the vial still simmering within Robin's clutch... then she tapped her foot, "No, but it is a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit, or dying of thirst... I drink."

 Scarlet couldn't quite remember the last time her head felt as though it would truly explode, sending a stream of crimson confetti to line the walls... but right then and there, still recovering from panic clawing at her skin and having the ride of a lifetime... Having Erica kick up a fuss about drinking some unintelligible liquid was slowly sending her mind into yet another spiral.

 Her temples ached and the dull pain behind her eyes swelled like a nasty bruise. Scarlet sighed, paint-smeared fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, her voice a hiss, "You aren't drinking that, Erica."

 The girl's eyes narrowed, mere slits forming to disguise her usual wide brown gaze — she contemplated spitting a witty comment to land at Scarlet's feet, to perhaps dish out a little comment about how damn motherly Scarlet could be... but then she swallowed the words whole as that vile droning sound filled the elevator once more.

 A mechanical whir echoed around them, bouncing from wall to wall like a yo-yo. Scarlet felt her body deflate even further, her feet picking up and carrying her toward the door that still refused to budge.

 Robin was by her side in mere seconds, her ear pressed snug against the door whilst she wrangled her short honied hair from sticking to her sweat-coated forehead. They remained entirely silent, foreheads almost steaming from the delightfully cool metal they were pressed against.

 Then they heard something... the sound of a moving vehicle.

 Scarlet had always been rather agile on her toes, for her life had always depended on her ability to run as far and as fast as she possibly could — but she had never turned tail quite so fast before.

 Without much thought, Scarlet clamped a hand on Erica's shoulder, another swiftly securing words from flying atop the girl's tongue, "They're coming," Was all she whispered into Erica's ears, and with the jingle of Erica's colourful beads, and the stomp of clammering feet, they all rushed towards the hole in the ceiling.

 Steve peered down at them, a single brow climbing his forehead, and yet he still reached out to take erica's grappling hand, "What's —"

 Robin shook her head, "We have company!"

 It took nothing more for Steve and Dustin to drop to their knees, and reach their fingers down to their friends. One by one they were hoisted up and to the fragile safety of the elevator roof. Nothing more than shaky breathing could be heard until the very moment those elevator doors slid open.

 The Russians made their way inside, beaded eyes scanning their surroundings, noses turned up at the smell of... well, they had Steve to thank for that. They muttered and jeered within their dark uniforms whilst calloused fingers clawed at the boxes. Their grins seemed to gleam, but not like a diamond, or perhaps a pretty pink pearl... no, more like the sharp edge of a threatening knife.

 Scarlet almost froze at those looks — the look of people who had gotten their precious weapons to fall ever so obediently within their grasp. Steve's elbow nudged her arm before the Russian's faces could morph into somebody more familiar, more haunting.

 He said nothing, only nodded to the vial that Robin had managed to stuff into Erica's garishly pink rucksack. Though Scarlet didn't exactly trust Steve Harrington with a jar of unintelligible liquid that could have the potential to kill them all... She grasped it and pushed it into his hold, almost praying that he'd do anything but toss it at one of the Russian's skulls.

 There was a beat that passed when the Russians left, just one that felt like a whole lifetime... until Steve broke the serenity of knowing they were finally alone again. He hurled himself into the elevator, shoes squeaking as he skidded across the floor — his knees would certainly pay the price later for that move — and lodged the seemingly impenetrable vial beneath the swiftly sealing door.

 Against all odds, it held. They had an escape.

 Erica was the first ushed back into the elevator, shortly followed by Dustin. As ever, Scarlet slapped Robin's hands from her arms and ultimately insisted that her gangly friend toss herself to freedom first.

 "Okay, okay!" Steve pushed through gritted teeth, his hands waving like windmills, "Go, go go!"

 Erica slid beneath the door, her hands hastily snatching her rucksack through in time. Dustin was next, sliding on his front as he crawled through the gap, eyes tightened until he couldn't see a thing. Then Robin, being Robin, squeezed through the gap feet first, huffing at the little assistance from Steve as he flatted his palm against her forehead and pushed her through.

 Scarlet looked to Steve, and for once, she didn't intend to make an argument about who would go first, and who would remain. His eyes had hardened, rippling pools of molten chocolate forming into black and bitter coffee; just once did Steve Harrington win their silent squabble.

 Scarlet felt her forehead pulse as she weaselled through, pink fingers clawing at the floor to hasten her movement. She could hear the faint crack... the light SHING! of shattering glass. Robin grabbed an arm, and Dustin heaved on the other until she had broken completely free.

 It felt like somebody had bottled frost-bitten air and shoved it into her lungs, as though somebody had taken a wad of melting snow and pushed it against her sweltering forehead. Scarlet could breathe. Finally, she could banish the numbness that those four tight walls had brushed over her complexion.

 But while Scarlet somehow managed to piece herself together, the vial that had assisted her escape only buckled further. A small shard of glass rippled, cracked, and then... it was spat free. It clinked and clanged as it danced across the floor... and Scarlet could barely register the iron grip she forced around Steve's forearm.

 His eyes bulged with fear, his forehead smothered in sweat as he sailed past the shattering vial, and Steve could feel his heart beating out of his chest when the elevator finally crashed to the ground. Just a second too late, and Steve would have been absolutely smooshed beneath the door.

 The vial of emerald had been forced to submit — glass sprayed like a fountain of fireworks and poor Erica had to shield her face with that pink backpack of hers as it rained down upon them... The liquid, however, seemed all too happy to rush towards the ground — like a ravenous monster, the goo chewed and nibbled at the floor, eating away piece by piece until nothing short of a small crater was left behind.

 Scarlet blinked, teetering forth to peer through the hole, "Well..." She breathed, her voice shrouded in fog, yet Robin was the one to finish off the sentence.

 "Still wanna drink it?" Robin muttered, eyes sliding to Erica who, for once, had nothing at all to say.

 "Holy mother of God." Dustin groaned, and the sound of his arms falling to his sides in his huff only trailed down the corridor — Scarlet almost joined his pouting, the tunnel before them was tauntingly long, hell, she couldn't even see the end of it.

 The sizzling and steaming of the escaped blob of green goo had been pushed to the backs of their tired minds and they all gawked and goggled at the trail left at their feet like some jacked-up present.

 "You're kidding." Robin whispered, eyes falling to her very uncoordinated feet, "I'm not gonna make it."

 Scarlet heaved to her feet. The ache in her skull had subsided, but the fatigue of tier arduous day had finally coated her like a heavy blanket. A sigh sprang free and her palm patted Robin's arm, "You'll be fine."

 "Hope you guys are in good shape," Steve muttered, his eyes roaming over the rag-tag team that had managed to get themselves stuck inside a Russian hellhole. He stopped upon Robin, eyeing her shaking legs warily — she would trip over a dust bunny, he was certain. Erica... well he knew the girl had an oddly strong sense of self-preservation... Scarlet? He cleared his throat, eye swiftly tearing away from the splatter on her tanned calf before he blinked at Dustin. He slapped the boy upon his chest, easily slinking past the group, "Looking at you, roast beef."

 "How are you holding up?" Came Steve's voice. He spoke with nothing more than a delicate whisper that merely drifted by Scarlet's ears like a flittering breeze in the midst of summer... they had faltered in their steps, watching as Dustin, Robin and Erica gawked and goggled at the tunnels encasing them. Though they were damp and creaked with every breath... they were far preferable to the tunnels Scarlet, Steve and the kids had found themselves within months prior.

 It was a loaded question, really. How was she holding up? Other than the discomfort wracking her spine from hours teetering over her painting, or perhaps other than the way her heart thudded and her stomach churned whenever she thought about the confining walls of the elevator... she was... well, she wasn't good, per se, but he didn't have to know that.

 Her fingers brushed through the air, dismissing his question, "Fine, fine. Are you okay?"

"You can't lie to me —" Steve retorted, his pointer finger jutting into her cheek, "You look exhausted."

 It was true. From a late night combined with nothing but sheer panic and terror... Scarlet felt utterly dead on her feet. She'd spied the dark smudges beneath her eyes, the way her lips were tugging so very close to the ground... but she didn't have the time to whine and pray that they'd find some nice and plush bed, for they had two kids, and a Robin, to take care of.

 Scarlet flicked his finger away as though it were a fly upon a bruised peach, "I was up painting."

 "I'd never have been able to tell." His drawl was littered with sarcasm as his eyes flicked to and fro between her paint-splattered cheeks, and the smudges of pencil and russet-red trailing over her hands. He almost grinned when she stilled in place to let him peel a little splatter of pale pink from the apple of her cheek, "You know the paint is supposed to go on the canvas, yeah?"

 "You're revolutionary, Steven."

 "And you're not funny."

 "Such a liar."

 "Me? A liar?" His palm collided with his chest, fingers grazing that dumb little ascot dangling from his uniform.

 Their bickering never seemed to cease; voices remained low, lips curled at the edges whilst heads tipped ever closer to one another... both entirely unaware of the stray glances tossed their way from Robin, Dustin and Erica.

 Robin, of course, had nothing more to offer than a sly grin and the lightest of scoffs as she continued to trudge forth, a hand pushing Dustin on, for the boy had become fixated in place. His curls had jostled as he shook his head, beyond bewildered that Steve hadn't buckled and spilled his guts to Scarlet already. It was almost impressive... but really, it was kinda sad.

 He would have stayed longer, eyes drawn to the duo lagging behind while their cheeks steadily bloomed like a rose in spring... yet Erica Sinclair and her surprisingly sturdy grip tugged him onwards.

 "I mean... you do have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive." Dustin piped up only minutes later. His eyes scanned their surroundings and while he knew the others likely saw nothing more than a hell hole of pipes, metal, and damp... he could appreciate the craftsmanship — Even if he too, wanted nothing more than to scurry back to the sugary safety of Scoops Ahoy.

 Scarlet spared the tunnel a glance, yet as her eyes drooped and her legs ached with every step within the never-ending corridor, she couldn't really bring herself to see what Dustin could. They were often on the same wavelength; Dustin would spout something odd and while Steve would raise a brow in question, Scarlet would do her utmost to understand him.

 "Sure, Dustin." She muttered, dragging her rubber soles across the floor.

 Steve, however, scoffed, "You're kidding right? It's a total fire hazard! There are no stairs, no exits..." He cast a glance behind him, discovering that the elevator they'd slithered from had already disappeared into the distance, "Nothing but an elevator that drops you halfway to hell."

 Whilst he was right... It was sort of ingenious. No exits, no possible way to escape meant nothing but trouble for those who just so happened to discover a Russian message thought to be secret, crack said message, and quite literally tumble through the gates of hell dressed in sailor's uniforms and My Little Pony backpacks.

 Whilst they were screwed with a capital S, it was good planning on the Russian's part... at least?

 "They're commies." Erica stated, "They don't pay people, they cut corners."

 "To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don't think this tunnel was meant for walking." Robin shrugged whilst sending a stray glance to her knobbly knees that ached from galavanting around a tunnel for so very long.

 "I don't think so, either." Scarlet peered through the tunnel, eyes forming thin slits as though she was staring directly at the sun... nothing she did brought the end of the tunnel into view. It was perfect, a long and seemingly never-ending tunnel would tire intruders out, or at least stall them long enough — with no places to hide — until some Russians on wheels came to find them, "But it is perfect for transporting that... that green stuff. It arrives at the mall disguised as any normal delivery, they load it up... and nobody would even think to bat an eye. Then it comes here... nobody can breathe a word about it, because where would they go? Who could they tell? They'd either get trapped in that elevator or..."

 She stopped there, for the words she'd neglected to spout would allude to the very situation they themselves were headed towards. They'd gotten out of the elevator, but who was to say they wouldn't get caught strolling around the bleak tunnel?

 Scarlet brushed by the others, using her lead to conceal the short flash of panic that crossed her features. Their only plan was to walk until they found something else... but what if they were found first? What the hell could they possibly do then? It wasn't like Scarlet could Strom forth and destroy everything in her path; there were limits... and she had people, children, to look out for.

 Brisk footsteps reverberated until warmth erupted by her side once more. Steve lingered a moment, nothing but the dull thud of their tired steps rang out, a symphony of dreary notes, "You think they built this entire mall just so they could transport that green poison?"

 "Make's sense, doesn't it? Though... I doubt it's poison, Stevie."

 "Exactly." Dustin chimed, worming his way between the duo, "I seriously doubt it's something as boring as poison. It's gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something."

 As ever when it came to Dustin's little nerdy quips, Steve Harrington was left in the dark. He cocked his head, a strand of hair slipping into his eyes as he blinked furiously, "What the hell is promethium?"

 "Oh!" Scarlet breathed in delight. Paint-smeared hands clapped together, a light chime resonating through the tunnel as glossed lips parted with a grin, "It's uh —" She snapped her fingers twice, her trail of thought finally clearing, "It's from one of the comics you showed me, right?"

 It was a feeble attempt at remembering, but Dustin couldn't help but bob his head in time, thrilled that her eyes had filled with light upon remembering one of the silly little comics he'd tossed her way and spouted utter nonsense about.

 Robin took over, her lips curled at Scarlet's attempt to clear Steve's confusion, "It's what Victor Stone's dad used to make Cyborg's bionic and cybernetic components."

 Erica cringed from beside Robin, speaking with a tone of disgust. "You're all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill."

 "No, no, no! Don't lump us in with them," Steve was quick to defend, "We aren't nerds, all right?"

 His finger had jutted between himself and Scarlet, and really, Steve knew that he was wrong. Scarlet was, in fact, a nerd. The kids had dragged her from home to home, surprising their parents with a teenager they'd never seen before, and practically shoved those damned comics down her throat... but she had never once complained. She'd let them take her hand with a fond little smile that had made his heart thud like pattering rainfall.

 So he should have expected her to turn his way, pretty and endlessly brown eyes narrowing like a viper ready to strike. There was no hiss, no bite as she grinned and tilted her head like an innocent little puppy, "Something wrong with Superheroes, Stevie?" She wiggled her fingers, the very fingers that could illuminate like a flare and save his life, "Something wrong with superpowers?"

 "No, that's not what I —"

 "Nerdy, huh?" Scarlet laughed, her voice floating by like a delicate little snowflake... and yet it made Steve squirm like a writhing worm. Her hand inched out, pinching the very tip of his vibrant ascot. She considered it, and then dropped it once more, "Sure, they might be nerdy, but even their costumes are better than this."

 There was a harsh SLAP as Dustin's hand sealed his trembling lips; he caged his laughter away, sure that the Russians would hear him back in their homeland. While Robin donned the very same uniform, she too couldn't help the snort that tore free from her freckled-splattered nose. It really was an awful uniform.

 Steve finally blinked, able to breathe once Scarlet had taken a step away... once that grin finally fell from her face. He scrambled to recover from the blush erupting over his frighteningly warm skin, "You know what? I take it back. Scarlet is a nerd, and I'm not —" He flicked Scarlet's fingers as she poked at his little sailor's cape, "Stop abusing my uniform."

 "Either way," She said, fingers flicking the ascot in a final attempt to make little Stevie squirm, "Dustin's right. Whilst I'm sure it isn't promethium... whatever it is, it's probably being used to make something... or maybe..." Scarlet's brows huddled together, "Power something?"

 Robin hummed, hastily joining her friend's side without her legs tangling even once. Dustin and Erica flanked them like diligent little soldiers all perusing through their mission... They left Steve behind, stammering as he comically scrambled to keep up, lending an ear to their words.

 Dustin nodded, his mind swiftly trailing along the path Scarlet had laid out for them, "Like a nuclear weapon."

 Steve Huffed, "Walking towards a nuclear weapon. That's great. That's actually just perfect."

 "But..." Robin spied the tunnels, chopped and tangled hair bunching by her shoulders as cerulean eyes narrowed, "Why here, you know? Why build something in Hawkins of all places? Seriously, we're a toilet stop on the way to Disneyland... I mean, sure that Eddie dude has like... a cult, but that's about it."

 Those words made something click. They made the steadily dying bulb within Scarlet, Steve's and Dustin's minds flash furiously. Why Hawkins? It was a valid question for Robin to ask, even for Erica to ask... but for the three that dawdled behind the swift-moving girls, they knew of just a handful of things that would lead someone to pick Hawkins. Eleven. The gate. The Mind Flayer.

 But... if any of those were the reason for the gaggle of Russians building a base beneath a damned mall... how did they know? What did they know?

 "You don't think —" A swell of panic clawed at Scarlet's skin. Sure, if the Russians somehow knew about the gate, things could likely get disastrous pretty damn fast, but she couldn't help but be that little bit selfish and think of her baby sister. What if they knew about her, "El?"

 She spoke the name as nothing more than a pathetic whisper.

 Dustin's face fractured, and through the cracks, both Scarlet and Steve could see his own worry seep through like a stream of running water, "They could." He concluded, shamefully nodding his head whilst his fingers picked at a loose thread upon his cap.

 "So it might be connected."

 "How?"

 "I'm —" How could anything be connected? How did any of it piece together? Sure, maybe the Russians had somehow caught wind that there had been a little bald girl running around all that time ago, sending the quiet and quaint town into utter disarray... Maybe they'd caught wind of the boy who'd been dead, yet somehow came home once more.

 But why would they care?

 Scarlet sighed, "I'm not sure. But it's —"

 "— Possible." Steve finished, solemnly. He could feel his hands rattling within his pockets; as much as he preached and hollered that the kids were nothing more than a pain in his ass... the mere thought of anyone coming for Eleven, coming for any of them — he cleared his throat, sobering his face as Robin spun on her heel, miraculously able to keep herself steady.

 "I'm sorry," She chimed, a hand firmly planted on her hip. Her eyes seemed to peer through them, as though scouring for their dirty little secrets. But her gaze ultimately strayed to Scarlet, her friend... one of her only friends, actually. But she got nothing more than a carefully crafted blank stare, "Anything you guys wanna share with the class?"

 Scarlet wanted nothing more than to fill Robin in, to let her know that there truly was a reason as to why she woke with a gasp, sweat down her neck as she cried out for her father, a reason as to why she remained tucked away within a cabin, even whilst the Chief was dutifully patrolling their dreary little town.

 She wished that she could simply let her hands erupt with the crimson light that had become such a comfort to her... but she couldn't. It wasn't her choice. To reveal something like that... everybody needed to be alright with it, and, in all honesty, while Doctor Samuel Ownes was a nice enough man... The thought of anybody from Hawkins lab coming after Robin just to pry secrets from her tongue was horrifying.

 The bout of awkward silence was cut like a knife when a low hiss rang free, and a distorted, unintelligible voice split through the air, echoing through the tunnel. Scarlet trailed forth and planted her hands upon Erica's shoulders, spinning her around. The candy-coloured backpack was swiftly unzipped and Scarlet wasted no time in fishing out the walkie-talkie.

 She pulled it closer, cringing at the static that brought the hair on her neck to stand at attention. There was a low drawl amidst the noise, the sound of a man speaking. Her bitten lips parted, the dull taste of metallic blood suddenly forgotten as she spoke alongside the man, translating his Russian dialect — they knew his words well enough by now.

 "A trip to China sounds nice. If you tread lightly."

 Robin plucked the walkie into her own grasp, twisting and turning it this way and that, all in the hopes of finding something, anything, new, "It's the code."

 Dustin's eyes flared, "Wherever that broadcast is coming from —"

 "It's close."

 "And if there's one thing we know about that signal..."

 "It can reach the surface." Scarlet finally let herself deflate; if they could reach the surface, they could call for help. They could tell Hopper, he could get ahold of Owens... and Eleven would be safe. But, the problem was... There was still ample time to get caught. No. That couldn't happen, "We might find a way out."

 Robin shifted in place, her scribbled-over converse squeaking, "Well then, let's get going because I don't wanna be stuck down here with Steve."

 "Why me?" Steve whined, "Why is it always me?"

 Robin trudged ahead, a grin on her face while Scarlet bumped into Steve's side, "C'mon, Stevie. The sooner we get out, the sooner you can get me a chocolate milkshake."

 "Strawberry."

 "Still a heathen."

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07-03-2020

edited version: 22/10/2022

:･ﾟ★ we're slowly growing closer to the end of season three... and as much as i love it, i cannot wait to be done with re-writing. as i type, i'm trying to get a writing session done to complete at least two chapters... but my motivation is ABYSMAL. send me your prayers, besties, i need them <3

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!), and please do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3