Angelica "Freak Two" Munson

Chapter 9

Hopper sets down a well-worn medical kit, letting it thud against the floorboards. "Since you're the only one left in a decent state of mind, you're gonna have to hold her down."

"O-Okay," Steve stammers, wrapping his arms carefully around Angie's waist, pulling her close against his chest. Her head rests against him as he braces himself for what's to come.

"Now, I shouldn't be offering this to a minor," Hopper continues, a reluctant edge to his voice, "but it's the strongest pain meds we've got right now. It's gonna hurt like hell. Sorry, kid."

Angie doesn't respond, only reaching for the small vial of alcohol Hopper sets out and downing it in one swift motion.

"I really hope you pass out," Hopper mutters under his breath, pulling out a needle and thread to begin stitching the jagged wound.

Angie leans further into Steve, her hands gripping his sleeves tightly, nails digging into the fabric as Hopper works. 

"F-Fuck!" she cries out, the pain practically vibrating through her body.

This is the most excruciating experience Angelica Munson has ever endured. 

Her entire leg feels like it's been set aflame, every nerve screaming in protest, every heartbeat a hammer against the trauma. 

She fights to stay upright, to hold herself together, but the combination of exhaustion and agony is relentless. 

Hopper works quickly, but no matter how fast he moves, every pull of the needle elicits another cry from her lips.

"Stop! Stop!" she screams as they reach the midpoint of the wound.

Hopper shakes his head, guilt wrinkling his forehead. "I know you're miserable, kid... but we have to keep going."

"Stop! Stop! Please!" she sobs again, writhing slightly in Steve's embrace.

Steve places a hand firmly in Hopper's view. "She said to stop!"

Hopper looks between them, tension etched into every line of his face. "We can't stop. We're barely halfway done."

"Look at her! She's miserable! Just give her a break!" Steve presses, his voice sharp.

"I know she is! You think I don't know that?" Hopper snaps, though there's no anger behind it. "We have to finish. Those things out there are unsupervised. If we stop now, it could be worse. We need to alert the proper authorities."

Steve's eyes soften as he looks down at Angie, pleading silently for mercy. 

"Please," he begs quietly, "just a few minutes. Let her catch her breath."

Hopper exhales heavily and finally nods. "Alright. I'm gonna go inside and make a few calls, get some help with those things... We'll continue when I get back, okay?"

"Thank you," Angie whispers, throwing her head back against Steve's chest and letting out a small, exhausted sigh.

Steve tightens his grip on her waist subconsciously. "I'm so sorry about this, Angie."

"It's not... your fault," she murmurs, her voice barely audible over her racing heartbeat.

"Yes it is," Steve insists, voice trembling despite his efforts to remain strong. "If I'd just paid closer attention... if I'd forced you back onto the bus, none of this would've happened."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Steve," she whispers, her fingers brushing lightly over his hand.

"I very well can, Angie. I'm doing a pretty damn good job of it right now." He lets out a dry laugh, the sound bitter against the quiet of the room. "You're sitting here with your leg half exposed, bleeding, and I'm rambling about guilt. You were right... I really am an ass."