the hayloft was burnt to the ground, taking the memories and horrors with it.
- in which Malia Garcia doesn't go down without a fight.
❥
𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒘𝒐
stranger things season one - four
steve harrington x fem...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❛ Burn in hell, motherfucker. ❜
❦
After the eventful, gut wrenching pool event, everyone took themselves off in different directions. Eleven and the boys sat on the bleachers inside the gym, Joyce and Jonathan cried together while Hopper questioned them on where Will's den was in the woods, and Nancy had slid down the wall in the hallway with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Malia, on the other hand, is sat on the very top bleacher in the very far corner and she stares emotionlessly at the far wall opposite, not even bothering to question what's happening when Joyce and Hopper run out of the school together. She bites her lip, fiddling with the necklace around her neck while trying to ignore the banging voices inside her head. The cuts on her wrists and ankles had stung more than ever before when Eleven was communicating with Will, but Malia kept that information private.
Nancy and Jonathan stand side by side at the bottom of the bleachers, staring up at Malia in worry.
"Do you think she'll be willing to do this with us?" Nancy questions, "I mean, last time she got near the demogorgon, or whatever Mike called it, it didn't end well."
Jonathan shrugs, beginning to make his way up to the ice cold girl, "I'll doubt she'll want to do it, but we need her. She's good with a gun, and an axe."
She hears the pairs footsteps first, and continues to face the wall but flicks her eyes over to the both of them in confusion. They stand side by side on the bleachers, either terrified or just extremely uncomfortable. Malia rolls her eyes, quickly realising they want something from her.
"What do you two want now?" She grumbles, letting her head drop down so her neck is pressed against her chest with a huff while she waits for an answer.
Jonathan glances back at Nancy, who just nods gently, motioning for him to be the one to break the bad news, "Help us kill the monster— demogorgon." He swallows thickly when her head snaps up in his direction, "Hold on, hold on. Look, Malia, we need you."
"Like, really need you," Nancy takes over, "You're strong enough to use the axe, and you're aim with the revolver is strangely good."
Malia stares at them in astonishment for a few moments before a slow smirk makes it's way onto her face, "Holy shit, Wheeler, just admit it already I'm better than you and you're basically in love with me."
Jonathan sighs in relief, whereas Nancy's jaw drops, "I am not in love with you, Malia. We just need you."
Licking her lips, Malia's expression drops again slightly, "Have you two forgotten what happened last time I got near that fucking thing?" She snaps, pulling up her trouser leg to reveal her scarring ankle, "I can no longer wear trainer socks because of that motherfucker."
