❝ and suddenly i'm an angel on the cutting room floor, wearing gore, a blank stare, not much more.❞
-daphne gottlieb
STRANGER THINGS SEASONS 2 - 4
。° fem oc x steve harrington
。° fem oc x robin buckley
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"I'M TELLING YOU GUYS," whispered Dominic. He was leaning over the kitchen counter toward Steve and Dustin, pupils looking about ready to devour their heads. "The second she noticed me, she ripped that shit from the carrier. And the file she left behind. I swear to God, it said Hawkins Lab. It was about missing child cases."
Steve was silent. He stood tipped back against the edge of the sink with arms crossed, one clamped uncomfortably over the other. Somewhere in his head, he was performing an autopsy on everything he knew about Mel.
This—the revelation that she had mysterious reason to research Hawkins Lab and try to hide it from her brother—was thoroughly muddying up what was an already horrifying resurgence of last year's mess of events. Mel. The girl who, as of late, looked at Steve with compassion he didn't deserve. Hawkins Lab. The pith of everything supernatural in Hawkins, including the shrieking monster that, to this day, still clawed its way through his nightmares. What the fuck?—but according to Dom, Mel had been acting strange.
Dustin squinted conspiratorially. "Layers," He mumbled. His hands were in the air, brown curls springing out from under his cap. "This shit has layers."
"And lucky for us, not one of them makes sense," Dom grumbled.
Steve's eyes followed the diluted kitchen light into the living room. Mel had hesitantly found a spot on the couch as Steve wiped up all the blood from the kitchen floor. By now, she had fallen asleep. The cushions were rippled and sunken beneath her weight, her bandage caught in a sardonically placed patch of moonlight.
"I don't—" Steve said, mostly to himself. "I don't get it."
