"I swear, if I'm dying tonight because of you, I'm gonna haunt your ass so hard, Harrington!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah! I'm gonna go full Poltergeist and shit!"
"Then bring it, Graveswood."
"Challenge accepted."
***
In which after years of suppressing their...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter One-Hundred-And-Ten: Explanations And Nerd Theses
(E Pluribus Unum, Pt. 2)
***
Rowan can't breathe.
She can't move, she can't think, she can't function. Her mind, her body, was still there in that room, next to the open vent and watching Steve, Valerie and Robin barely hold the door closed, yelling at her to escape and leave them to the non-existent mercy of the Russians. And she did. She did because a part of her knew Steve was right, that if the Russians caught her she'd not only risk her secrets, but risk Alistair and her aunt and her family—her cousins who didn't even know what it was like to be in fear of being abducted by a government's mad scientists and treated as a weapon and experiment—but Rowan still felt guilt filling her up, acidic and scorching and tasting of shame, bitter and and corrosive, her mind a storm of I should have dragged them into the vent I shouldn't have left them I should have held the door I should have protected Robin and Valerie, I should have protected Steve.
Her fears—of Robin and Valerie being wrapped up in the inter-dimensional dangers of Hawkins and being hurt or even killed by them, of Steve being hurt or killed, because she couldn't protect them better, because she couldn't protect him better—had come true in the worst way possible.
And again, she did nothing but run.
Barb and Bob flashed before her, their faces mingling with Robin's, Valerie's, and Steve's. She needed to go back, she needed to rescue them, she needed to save them, she left them she left them she left them she left—
"Rowan!"
Rowan jumped, whipping around to see Dustin there. He was holding her arm. Behind him was Erica, the usually sassy girl looking worried and confused and scared.
Dustin. Erica.
"Protect Dustin and Erica!" screamed into her mind. Rowan looked at Dustin and Erica, at their faces, at how even though they were doing a good job, they were both scared. And she was the oldest person in these vents—she had to make sure they got out safe, to protect them.
She can relearn to function for them.
"Are you okay?" Dustin asked, surprisingly considerate and soft. He was still holding her arm, and the touch was grounding—but it isn't Steve's touch, God, are they torturing Steve I need to go back I need to save him—
Rowan shook her head, dispelling the painful thoughts away. "I'm fine."
Even as she said the words, Rowan knew it was a lie—a lie that didn't convince Dustin Henderson. But Rowan had practice with masking her true feelings, of concealing her pain and fear, as she swallowed and made herself say, "Come on. We... we need to find a way out of here and back to that elevator, and get them help. You still have that keycard, Henderson?"
