nadine mckinnon had a prosthetic right foot, a bandage she never took off her left wrist, and a permanent residence in pennhurst mental hospital
[ stranger things season four ]
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NINE! the observed
IF YOU HAD ASKED NADINE a week ago what she saw her future as, she would tell you that she expected nothing more than to remain within the brick walls of Pennhurst. She never would have guessed she would be cycling through a parllell dimension, arms wrapped around Steve Harrington's waist as he pedalled.
There had only been four bikes, so Steve had offered to share his with Nadine, the woman being slightly hesitant due to the angry-looking wounds wrapped round his abdomen.
"Don't be ridiculous," Steve had scoffed, "Hop on."
The bike was Ted's, and had a large enough saddle for Nadine to perch on the back, with her feet resting on the spokes of the bike, while Steve leaned forward. It was a tight squeeze, but worked surprisingly well.
Nadine yelped as Steve swerved to avoid a particularly large vine in the road, pressing closer against his back, arms tighting around his chest. She felt the low rumble of his laughter rather than heard it, and muttered a quiet, "Shut up."
Robin and Nancy cycled on one side of them, Eddie on the other, the group travelling in mostly silence on their way to the trailer. The plan was simple- climb through the portal Dustin had assured them was waiting at Chrissy's death spot.
"Look," Robin said, gesturing to a house they were soon approaching, "It's Victor Creel's house."
Nadine craned her neck to properly look, "Do you think Vecna's in there now?"
Her head suddenly flared up with an intense pain, so blinding she almost fell off Steve's bike, the man hastily grabbing her arm with his hand to allow her to resteady her grip around his chest.
"Nadine?" Steve's voice had risen with urgency, "What's wrong?"
"He's definitely there," she choked out, "Shit, Steve, I think he knows I'm here."
"Keep cycling!" Nancy commanded, "We need to get to the portal as soon as possible."
It was then Nadine heard it. A whisper, a rumble, a hoarse muttering of a number she had tried so hard to distance herself from- the name she was granted for the first years of her life, the tattoo she had carved out of her skin.
Her arms wound tighter around Steve, pressing her face against the rough denim on his back, "Steve."
"Shit, just hold on," his voice was panicked at the obvious distress in her voice, "You're okay. We shouldn't be too far from Eddie's now. Right, Eddie?"
"Only a mile left," Eddie tried to reassure the trembling girl, eyes squeezed shut as she hid her face in Steve's back, fighting off the pounding in her skull.
