Bullshit [Stancy]

Chapter 5

They drove in silence for part of the way. This time Nancy wasn't looking out of the window: her gaze seemed to be fixed on the road ahead, shifting from time to time to her own hands fidgeting in her lap. 

And he knew it because he was paying more attention to her than to the road, terrified as he was of what could happen at any moment.

After he had finished his supposed interrogation with the police, when Dustin had looked at him like that....  No words had been needed.

In that instant, he had swore that no matter what situation they would find themselves in: just as Max would not part from her Walkman, he would not part from Nancy. Al least until they had sent a stake through Vecna's heart, or cut off his head, or whatever else it took to kill him.

His stomach resumed tangling on itself as he thought back to the fact that it was him, or perhaps the memories Nancy had with him, that had saved her.  He couldn't explain what had happened, but whatever it was, he felt it was important. It was something that he would not be able to ignore or forget easily, and that he hoped had provoked some sort of reaction in her as well. Because a part of him now was starting to think that there was a small, hidden possibility that Nancy could really have some sort of feelings for him. And, maybe, if they got out of this alive.... Who knows. 

"Hey," he said, drawing Nancy's attention back. "How are you?" he asked, interrupting his spiral of thoughts and breaking the silence that reigned in the car.

Nancy seemed almost surprised by that question. She opened her mouth, closing it a moment later as if undecided what to answer.

"Good," she finally said. "Really. What happened at home… it was just a moment, like a hallucination."

"Like?"

"Yes," she sighed. She frowned, and on her forehead formed those little wrinkles he once enjoyed counting while she was concentrating on her homework.  "It started as a memory, but then… I don't know. It's like he slipped inside, distorting it."

He swallowed, thinking only of how awful it must have been. 

"But I think Max is safe," Nancy then added to his silence, looking at the road as if she was thinking aloud. "She hasn't had any more visions since Vecna attacked her, has she?"

"No," he replied, turning along a dirt road. "That's right."

"And the day after what happened at the cemetery, Patrick was killed," she continued. "And then, yesterday, he tried to kill me."

Steve held his breath, trying to follow the thread of her reasoning, aware at the same time that he would always be one step behind her.

"So, in theory, he should have already moved on to his next victim, right?"

He thought he understood where she was going with this, but there were many elements that did not make sense. "Yes, but" he tried to say "you hadn't had visions 24 hours before the attack, had you?"

"N-no" Nancy lowered her gaze. "That doesn't make sense," she muttered to herself.

"What?"

She turned to him, leaning in her seat.

He swallowed.

Despite what they had been through, her eyes now glowed, and he knew it was because she was doing what she loved, and what she did best: solving a case. No matter how exhausted she might be or what horrible thing she had just experienced, when there was a mystery to be solved she would light up, and her brilliant mind would set in motion at a speed that ordinary minds, like his, couldn't even hope to understand.