Love Me Back // Elmax Fanfiction

Chapter 27 ~ Right Back At Ya, Honey

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTION OF RAPE, HOMOPHOBIA, VERBAL ABUSE

     I woke up in a bright, white room. I squinted my eyes. Looking around, my eyes quickly adjusted to the light.
I was in a hospital bed. There were different frequencies of beeping surrounding me, and there were three different wires attached to my arms. There was also a clamp on my finger that was linked up to some machine I could only make out with my peripheral vision.
"Max! Oh, Max, thank heavens you're awake!" My mother shrieked. I moved a little but winced at the pain in my stomach.
Fuck it.
My mind flashed back to the very moment the knife entered my abdomen.
Why am I still alive?
That was when I saw Neil. Sitting in a chair. Staring at me. Just staring. Images flashed through my head and goosebumps erupted on my arms. I felt a thumb in my mouth, keeping me from saying a word, but Neil was still sitting in the chair. Tears pricked the back of my eyes as my breathing quickened, and I felt a horrible, unbearable weight press down on my chest. I sat up abruptly, pushing myself into the slightly upturned bed. Suddenly, I exploded. "NO! OUT! GET HIM OUT! GET HIM OUT!" I shrieked, completely panicked. My mother shot me a look and appeared as though she was about to scold me. Oh, no, I wasn't about to let her yell at me. "NO! GET HIM OUT! I WILL THROW MYSELF OUT THAT WINDOW! GET. HIM. OUUUTTTTTT!" I screamed, completely losing control and yanking on my hair, my legs pulled up to my chest. I rocked back and forth as my heart pounded loudly in my chest, causing the sounds of the hospital to blur and fade. I felt as if I was underwater. Suffocating. I was gasping for air, struggling to inhale. Two nurses rushed into the room and to my side, holding down my arms and legs as I kicked and screamed, while another ushered Neil out of the room. "STOP! LET ME GO! STOP IT, PLEASE JUST STOP IT." My angry screams turned to disheveled sobs. I wrestled to be let free as the weight on my chest seemed to push down harder, even though nobody was touching my chest. In absolute anguish, I let out a monstrous scream, pushing against the bed with my back, that held out until I was out of breath, transforming into loud, dramatic cries. I twisted and turned in the nurses' strong grips, trying but unable to break free. Finally, I stopped kicking, losing hope and accepting my fate. I was completely delirious and bawling my eyes out in defeat and fear. Neil had left the room, but I couldn't get the images out of my head. I felt as if it was going to happen all over again. My fast, heavy breaths eventually slowed down, although my sobbing was still making it really difficult to breathe. I wanted to curl up on the bed and die there.
"Now, Maxine, that is no way to treat your-"
"HE ISN'T MY FATHER, AND HE NEVER WILL BE. HE FUCKING RAPED ME, SUSAN. YOUR SHIT HUSBAND FUCKING RAPED ME, SO YOU CAN'T STAND THERE AND TELL ME THAT I DISRESPECTED HIM," I shouted, fat tears staining my cheeks. The space behind my eyes hurt due to the strain. The nurses shared a shocked expression.
"Maxine Mayfield, how dare you tell lies about your father!"
That. Was. It.
"HE'S NOT MY FATHER!" I screamed, lunging at her. The nurses, having not seen it coming, weren't able to grab me in time. I managed to knee her right in the gut. Satisfaction settled in my stomach as she bent over in pain. I did so too, though, as I felt the needles rip out of my arm and something in my stomach tear. I groaned, keeling over and stumbling to the floor. The nurses hurriedly lifted me onto the bed, sending my mother out.
"Dear, can you tell us exactly what happened?"

A Week Later
After telling the nurses everything, an exam was done on me, the cops were called, and Neil was thrown in jail. Because of the exam's results, I wouldn't have to go to court. Neil was found guilty, as he had no alibi, and since I'd been at my house all night, he was being sent to prison for sexually assaulting a minor.
I had 28 stitches in my stomach from where I'd stabbed myself, and I had been in a coma for 3 days afterward.
"Has anyone beside my mom and Neil visited me?" I asked one of the nurses the day after I woke up. I couldn't stop thinking about El. Why hadn't she come to visit? Was she mad? Was Neil too much for her?
"No, sweetie, I'm sorry. A woman and her two children had wanted to, but your parents refused to allow it," she informed me.
Joyce.
"But what if I want them to come and see me? Can't they then?" I asked, on the verge of tears. Poor El, I thought. I couldn't imagine how afraid she must've been. If she'd pulled a stunt like this, I'd have flipped my shit. I'd have been worried sick.
     Heartbroken.
"No, honey, I'm sorry. It simply isn't allowed. I wish it was." I could hear the pity in her voice, and I knew she meant what she said.
"Can I talk over the phone?"
"Your parents had to've paid extra for a room with a phone in it. I'm sorry, Max."
"Ugh, fuck!" I let out, falling back onto my pillow. I huffed, eating my chocoate pudding from the hospital cafeteria. The funny thing was, the food wasn't even half bad. It was a million times better then the food from the cafeteria at school.
I wasn't just in the hospital; I was in a mental ward. I saw a therapist there and everything. I didn't really feel comfortable talking to her, but I'd told her about Neil and my mom. And Billy. I told her about how he was a pain in the ass, but how I loved him. How he just died out of nowhere. How he didn't deserve it(even if maybe he did).
Mrs. Thai, the therapist, has helped me a lot with it. I still refused to call it anything other then it, but it wasn't always on my mind, and the more I talked to her about it, the less it completely haunted me.
I talked about El a lot. Hell, I thought about her a lot. My chest ached with the need for her. I just wanted to see her. Never did I confess my feelings for her to Mrs. Thai, because I didn't want her to tell my parents(even if I didn't suspect she would), but I'm sure it was pretty obvious anyway.
One day, when my mom came in, I devised a plan. "Tomorrow, when you come in, can you bring my radio and walkie?" I asked innocently, hoping and praying that she'd say yes. She just had to say yes. I needed to talk to Eleven.
"Sure," she nodded, smiling. I returned the smile.

The Next Day
I stretched in the hospital bed. It was Thursday, which meant it was physical therapy day. I had physical therapy every other day, to help with the stitches in my stomach and the trauma to my organs. It'd really hurt at first, but it was starting to hurt less and becoming easier and easier to walk.
My mom usually came in around 12. I looked at the clock. It was 9:26. I groaned, laying back on my pillow. I needed to talk to El now.
My physical therapist, Dr. Demgrove, walked in at 9:30 sharp. "Ready?" She questioned me. I nodded, sitting up. Even sitting up hurt, because my stomach muscles were all torn up, but the doctor said I was healing well, which I was glad for.
     I stood with the help of Dr. Demgrove, and we practiced all the regular exercises, adding one or two to the mix. After an hour of this, she helped me back into bed. "You did really well today. You improve every time," she complimented me, smiling. "I'll see you on Sunday." I nodded, returning the smile. I had physical therapy every other day, but we skipped Saturdays to make the schedule easier to follow, I guess.
     I downed the breakfast that the nurse brought me; it'd been waffles, strawberries, and scrambled eggs, and I couldn't help but shed a couple tears. Eggos. Everything that reminded me of El made me sad and guilty.
     I'd never pull a stunt like I did that night again; not while Eleven was alive, at the very least. If not for myself, for El. I wouldn't do that to her again. Who knew what she was going through?
     I had no idea how she was doing. I had no idea what she was doing. I had no idea if she missed me. I had no idea if she still liked me. I had no idea if she was mad or sad, or-
     "Hey honey." My mom walked in. I sat up straight. The quick movement shot pain through my stomach and I winced a little, but otherwise ignored it, too eager to give a shit.
     "Did you bring my walkie??" I asked eagerly.
     "Nice to see you too," Susan rolled her eyes, handing over the walkie. I stifled a laugh. As if I actually enjoyed seeing my mom.
     I pressed down the side button of the device and began to speak. It was already on El's radio station, per usual. "El? Are you there? El, it's me, Ma-" Just as I was about to finish, my mother snatched the walkie away from me. "What the fuck Susan?" I argued, bewildered.
     "I will not have you talking to that girl," she said sternly, her eyes hard. My eyes began to sting. She set the radio on the windowsill, out of my reach. I still couldn't walk without assistance, and plus, I still had an IV or two. So this was low, if you ask me. She'd left it on, but I don't think she noticed.
     That is, until a crackling came from the radio. I turned all my attention towards it, my mom standing from her chair to hurry and turn it off. "How do you turn this thing off??" She was completely confused.
     "I won't tell you."
     El's voice sounded from the walkie talkie, "Max? It's El! Max, I miss you so much. Over." The tears that had previously threatened me began to stream down my face.
     "Just let me talk to her!" I snapped, my voice breaking. My mother said nothing, still desperately trying to find the off button. I couldn't even get up and stop her.
     "Max? Are you there? Over." I openly sobbed.
     "GIVE IT TO ME!" I exploded, anger and sadness coursing through my veins. If there was ever a time where I could commit a murder, now would be a perfect time in my opinion.
     "NO! I WILL NOT GIVE IT TO YOU SO YOU CAN TALK TO THAT DYKE," Susan shot, still looking for the off button.
     "She's just my friend, mom! Just my-" I shut up the minute I heard my crush speak.
     "Max? Is anyone there? Maxie, I really really miss you, please talk to me." I could tell she was crying by the tone in her voice. In that moment, I didn't even care that she'd called me "Maxie" in front of my mother. It'd been almost two weeks since she'd been able to see me, and I'd still had no contact with her whatsoever. I covered my face in the hospital bed's thin white sheets, crying. "Max, I-" beep. My mom finally found the off button.
     I let out a loud, choked up sob. "Fuck you, Susan," I let out angrily.
     "Right back at ya, honey," my mother replied without skipping a beat, not a hint of sarcasm in her voice. It was just anger.
     I cried and cried until I fell asleep, emotionally drained.

This whole thing sucks, but hey, at least I didn't kill her. I hope you know I'm much too gay to kill Max off.

Ik you guys want elmax to happen. You don't understand how much I want to write a chapter with some elmax action 😭 I like to be realistic though, so we can't do that. Plus, the buildup is gonna be PHENOMENAL 🤌

I'd like to dedicate that song to Susan and Neil 🙏 I think it's perfect for them. To them, from me, I mean. They don't get to dedicate it or uno reverse it.

K bye. Love you guys(I'm serious, I really do).

word count: 2180

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