MARLEY // Max Mayfield

Oversized

"Nance..."

The tap ran, the sink gurgling with every gulp of red-tinged water; there were splatters of it everywhere, pinkish droplets dripping down the ceramic in Nancy's desperate attempt at cleaning her hands. The soap dispenser rattled with each vicious slam of Nancy's palm, spurting out weakly over and over as she scrubbed her skin raw. Her sleeves were wet, darkened with blood, tears streaked down her face, and her wrist was snotty from where she'd dragged it across her running nose. 

"Nancy, hey."

She cried softly, her head shaking, sobs wracking her body, and Marley stood helplessly behind her, guilt curling her shoulders. She tried to appear small and sorry as she stared at the back of Nancy's head, flinching at every harsh jab at the dispenser. She couldn't stop thinking about it, the way her powers had fizzled and failed her. The ease with which she was rendered useless, tugged into some - some thing.

"I - I don't know how it happened, Nance, one second I was up and then...I blacked out," Marley whispered. She was frightened, so very frightened that Nancy might blame her the way she was starting to blame herself. "Nance...Nancy, you're gonna hurt yourself." Marley reached out and grasped her wrist, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. "Stop it."

"What happened?" Nancy said, her tone eerily still, shaken but firm because she knew Marley could kill a Demogorgon with her bare hands, she knew it. So why hadn't she? Why was her dad dead? Why was her mom fighting for her life? And why was Holly gone? Taken. "Why?"

"I tried, Nance," Marley said, expression panicked, eye wide. She seemed small, like a child, the shouts of an adult bearing down on her. And this was Nancy, her Nancy Wheeler. She blamed her; she had to blame her, from the look on Nancy's face, Marley was sure of it. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Nancy."

Nancy looked as if she might shout again, hands dripping wet as she stared at Marley, brows twitching, nostrils flaring, and her lips forming a wobbly line. She looked at her, and after a moment, she saw her. Little Marley Harrington, scared and bleeding with a fat lip and stories of a monster with her father's face. She paused, let out a breath and turned around to stare down the plughole of the sink.

"I'm sorry --"

"Don't," Nancy said quickly, words catching on the tail end of another sob, and Marley fell silent, staring at the back of her once more. She looked around the bathroom, the tile feeling suddenly more clinical, suffocating, and Marley's eyes drifted down to Nancy's bloody knees, pockets and sleeves.

"Nance," Marley ventured tentatively and grabbed her bag from where she'd dumped it in the corner, "I -- I have some spare clothes, this...is my overnight bag for when I stay here. They'll be a bit big --" Marley cut herself off, staring at Nancy's reflection, seeing the way she dissociated, eyes dull, jaw clenched. "Nance, let me help...please? You've done it for me, remember?"

"What are you talking about?" Nancy cried quietly, her eyes wrenching shut, before eventually she let the porcelain of the sink go. Marley frowned at her response, brows furrowing, but she smiled when Nancy turned to her, stepping forward to help her out of her pink sweater. The fabric stuck to Nancy where the blood had saturated through to her skin, and Marley bit back a frown, trying her hardest to appear strong and assuring as she eased Nancy's shaking and pale hands back through her sleeves. It dropped to the floor with a thud.

Nancy's pale skin was coloured with red tinges where the blood had soaked through, blotchy and mottled. Marley parted briefly, and Nancy stood stiffly, her arms held out a small distance from her body as if she didn't want any clean part of herself to touch the iron stains that reminded her of what she had lost. A moment later, Marley stood from her bag with a packaged bandage, and she ripped it open with her teeth.