𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 ☆ steve harrington³

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 : behind enemy lines

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 3.6k

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 plummeting for an eternity, it didn't take long for her to remember that this wasn't an endless elevator shaft. At some point, they were going to reach the bottom and she had a pretty bleak guess about how that was going to go.

Through the group's cacophony of horrified screams, Steve was shouting, "We're going down! We're going down!"

As if that weren't already obvious.

"Yeah, no shit, Harrington!" Robin yelled back.

"Owen, do something!" Dustin ordered as he clung to the wall. Her eyes widened and snapped in his direction, unsure what exactly he was expecting from her. He must've wanted her to do something with her abilities, as they had all seen how her experience with the buttons went.

But Owen wasn't nearly as well-practiced as Eleven was with her powers, so there was really no telling if it would work at all. Nonetheless, one quick glance around at her terrified friends was enough motivation for her to at least try. Owen pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down as best she could. She was pretty sure that her stomach doing somersaults wasn't going to benefit her powers.

Her hands trembled as they lifted away from her side, her fingertips reaching straight out towards the walls beside her. Owen's eyebrows sloped downwards, furrowing as she focused on threading her energy into every tiny piece of rock she could sense nearby. Once she felt that her mind had reached just far enough, she swiftly tucked her arms in against her chest, fists clenching as she pulled all of those minerals inward.

Loud screeches of metal against concrete tore through everyone's shouting. The friction of the elevator walls against the shrinking outer shaft slowed them down just slightly, bringing their speed from breakneck to... brisk. The shrill noise had no effect on Owen's focus; she was far too absorbed with making sure everyone made it to the bottom alive to even notice the sounds around her.

Thus, she didn't snap out of it until they hit the ground floor, the force still strong enough to rattle the whole room. Owen blinked her eyes open once the room had stopped moving, hurriedly looking around to make sure everyone was okay. Boxes had tumbled to the floor, scattered amongst the fallen members of the group. But the varied groans from around the elevator were a good sign.

"My groin... It fell on my groin," Steve gasped from beneath a box. "Somebody get this off of me!"

"Oh, shit..." Owen hurried over, stepping around the clutter on the floor to get to him. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the box that had fallen directly on top of him, sliding it off as fast as she could. Once he was finally free, Steve's breath left him in heavy gasps as he stood and attempted to find his footing.

"Is everyone okay?" Robin checked in, her voice wobbly. One of her hands was clasped against the back of her head, clutching where it had knocked against one of the shelves.

"Yeah, I'm great, now that I know that Russians can't design elevators!" Steve bellowed, shoving his way over to the control panel on the wall. He began poking and prodding each of the buttons again, his chest still heaving from the drop.

"I think we've clearly established that those buttons don't work," Robin reminded him as she got to her feet. "But I really don't understand how the elevator slowed down like that."