bathroom stalls » mileven

trente - act 2

"is brenner really your dad?" mike asked, leading a blind-folded jane inside the middle school. he shuddered, memories of bad teachers and monsters and pools surfacing.

"you really think he is?" jane scoffed, slightly stumbling. mike moved his hands to her waist, protectively grabbing her. he felt her inhale quickly. "hands off, cowboy," she muttered after a few seconds. jane was particularly cute today. she was wearing a blue collared dress with her usual cream-coloured coat.

mike blushed, returned his hand to hers, and led her inside the bathroom. he pushed open the door to the handicapped stall and removed the blindfold. mike reluctantly released jane's hand, immediately missing the warmth of it.

"i told you i'm not eleven," jane exasperated once she saw the quotes.

"i never said that you were."

"why are we here?"

"what happened yesterday?"

"asking a question to answer a question doesn't work," jane sighed. "but i'll go first. your friends are not your friends." mike raised an eyebrow, motioning for jane to continue on. "if they were your friends, then why would they say such terrible things?"

"what do you mean?"

"why would lucas say that to max?"

"lucas has been going through problems."

"you mean going through girls like a bad camera," jane said, running her fingers across one particularly sloppy quote. "quickly and not-effectively." mike tilted his head. that analogy made no sense.

"he has family problems," mike insisted, leaning against the door.

"you can't know everything about a person," she whispered, turning to face mike.

"okay, what is up with your attitude?"

"my attitude?" jane innocently asked, smirking and stepping closer to mike.

"when did you become a bitch? are you trying to distance yourself or something?" mike questioned, pushing her away. jane shook her head, hiding her smile. it was going perfectly.

maybe mike should have realized how calculatingly perfect this was. how jane knew eleven's adopted last name without ever being told of it. how jane presumed that eleven had been shot when eleven had been hurt badly and then kidnapped. how jane basically turned into eleven when she cut her hair. how jane never really did answer dustin's question if she knew eleven.

maybe he should have paid more attention.

jane turned away from mike, shoving a piece of her bangs away from her face. "i've heard all about you," jane continued vaguely.

"you never answered my question," mike said, changing the subject. "is brenner your real dad?"

"i told you- he kidnapped me from my world," jane replied cooly. she was treating him like he had misheard her the first time, and she had to keep repeating herself. "that prick calls himself my dad. he's not. he's my abu- he's my kidnapper." mike grabbed jane's arm and pulled the sleeve up. there were more bruises and even cuts. except those cuts didn't look like they were from abuse. they ran up and down her arm, peeking from under her sleeves. "you need to stop doing that," jane hissed, pulling back.

"you need help, and i can help you get it."

"and risk never getting home?" jane asked, regret tainting her sweet voice.

"it's better to live safer."

"i want to get home."

"you're in an alternate world here; you can probably find your friends here," mike pleaded.

"it won't be the same," jane shook her head.

"make it the same." jane carefully glanced at mike, placing a hand on her hip.

"what happened at the snowball?" jane asked, changing subjects yet again.

"you need to stop," mike whispered, glaring at a quote.

"what happened on may 30th?" she repeated.

"fine, you want to know?" mike burst, quickly turning around to face jane. "eleven saved us all. she did some magical thing, and she got everyone out. but she didn't make it out. they bombed the school," he chokedly finished.

"i'm sorry."

"i am too." jane opened her lips then closed them, contemplating whether or not to tell him the truth.

"you want to know why i need to get back to my world? why i need my friends and mother?" she paused. "do you want to know the truth?" jane asked, leaning in as if preparing to tell a secret. she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around him to steady her. bringing her lips close to his ear, she spoke softly, eyes closed. "because i am lying to you. because i do know eleven. because i am going to die, and you, michael wheeler, are not god and you cannot prevent death."

"because i'm going to die, and you, michael wheeler, are not god and you can't prevent death."

mike stiffened, shoving jane off of him. she had to be eleven. it was the only way jane could be perfectly saying what eleven had once said. jane was eleven. that had to be the answer.

jane hit the wall with a thud. she pressed her hands against the wall, using it to support her. one hand instinctively reached up to wipe her nose. she gasped suddenly, grappling for the handicapped side bar. mike confusedly looked at her. his confusion turned to fear when he saw the familiar shimmery garnet colour staining her sleeve. blood.

"jane?" mike worriedly asked.

"one," jane murmured, but it didn't seem to be directed at mike. she snapped out of her daze and looked at him with real fear in her eyes. jane turned away from him and coughed, splattering the sparkling garnet colour across the bathroom tiles and quotes. it shouldn't have been beautiful. it shouldn't have been art.

it shouldn't have happened at all.

it was all a mistake. however anything even slightly mysterious that occurred in hawkins is seldom a mistake.