the many uses of bowls

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

    The only problem with them driving away from the cabin—where the Mind Flayer continued to thrash and shriek and was clearly in plain view of anyone who decided to wander through these leafy woods (even though Gabe didn't think anyone would, given that it was the Fourth of July and there was an exquisite fair going on just outside of it)—was that they had no idea where they were going. Of course, there were definitely things that needed to be done, because El was in agony in the back seat, blood running in rivets down her leg and staining the back seat, and, less pressingly, Gabe's entire face was covered in muck. But those were problems, not locations, and right now the only real objective was to drive as far away as possible.

As Gabe shifted slightly—it really was crowded back here, with Mike practically sitting in his lap and Lucas jamming his shoulder uncomfortably into his neck—he realized that he could probably pass as a serial killer. With the bloodstained face and the meat cleaver he still clutched in one hand, it would be a miracle if they got wherever they were going without getting the cops called on them first. Which would definitely lead to a lot of awkward questions.

When they were far enough away that they could no longer hear the occasional boom of the fireworks, Lucas pointed out the store. It was called Bradley's Big Buy, and it seemed to be the type of place to have supplies for El's leg along with some food, because none of them had eaten since that cereal and toast breakfast that morning. Nancy nodded, her jaw set, and spun the car into the parking lot way over the speed limit. Gabe was jolted around like he was on a rollercoaster, and judging by his friends' green faces, he wasn't the only one feeling nauseous. But there wasn't any time to blow their chunks, so everyone swallowed down their vomit and made their way out of the car.

The store was closed. Obviously. Which meant that they were going to have to break in. Usually Gabe would feel guilty about this—and if he was being honest, he still sort of did—but given the immense, literally world-ending circumstances, he decided that it was okay for now. So one well-aimed rock by the one and only Nancy Wheeler, shattering the front doors, and they had the place to themselves.

Gabe waded over the glass sprinkling the floor as he followed the others in, and leant a hand to Mike and Max to support El. The four of them hobbled their way over to one of the aisles, and Nancy grabbed the materials they'd need to patch up the wound—rubbing alcohol and bandages.

"Okay, get her down," she instructed the trio, and Gabe, Max and Mike obliged, slowly lowering El to the floor so that she was leaning against the shelves. Her face was screwed up in pain, and although Nancy looked worried, Gabe could see she was trying to hide it as she spoke next. "Okay. Lemme see."

Gabe suppressed a groan, thinking that in this case, going to the hospital would've actually been a good idea, if not for the fact that all the doctors were dead. None of them knew how, exactly, to patch up a leg bitten by the Mind Flayer. So this was going to be a gamble, just like it had been when Alina had gotten bit last year. So with careful hands, Nancy Wheeler moved to roll up El's pant leg.

It was a ghastly sight. Unlike the light pinpricks that had pierced Alina last year, this wound was deep. Gabe could tell just by the ungodly amount of blood was staining El's shin and socks, and the dark, nearly black blood that oozed out of a hole the size of a bouncy ball. The flesh around it was ragged, and Gabe felt the vomit rise up in his throat yet again. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Max managed to sum this whole dire situation up in two words. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, I don't think we can just wrap up the wound and leave it," said Gabe, crouching by his injured friend. "El, are you okay? I mean, of course, you're not okay, that's ridiculous, you literally have a hole in your leg. But, like, on a scale of one to ten, how badly would you rate it? One being that it hurts like a normal cut and ten being oh my God, this is literally the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life, please help me." He was reverting back to his rambling, because this was disgusting, and he wanted to distract the girl, at least for a bit. El met his gaze, sucking in a deep, wounded breath, and held up nine fingers.

"Nine... well, at least it isn't ten, right?" he nervously laughed.

Nancy unwrapped a package, but just before she could move to clean the wound, Max stopped her. "What—what—Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning the wound," said Nancy, confused, bottle of rubbing alcohol in her hand.

"No," said Max, "first, we need to stop the bleeding, then clean, then disinfect, then bandage." Nancy continued to stare, as well as the others, wondering where the hell she'd learned that from, and Max rolled her eyes. "I skateboard. Trust me. Mike, hold this," she waved Mike over to hold a napkin against El's leg while the girl it was attached to whimpered and moaned.

"You're gonna be okay," Gabe soothed her. "Okay? We're going to patch you up, and you're going to be fine."

Max didn't seem to have time for such pleasantries, as her voice was still tight with worry. "Keep the pressure on it, nice and firm, okay?" she told Mike, before looking up at the others. "We're gonna need water, soap."

Nancy and Jonathan rose to their feet. "Yeah, okay."

Meanwhile, Lucas was sliding his bag off his shoulder with practiced ease. As they all watched Alina's boyfriend dumped the contents of it onto the ground, which included an empty Tootsie Roll packet, spare rocks, marbles, a flashlight, batteries, his wrist rocket, and a number of coins. The noise startled Max and she looked back to him just as Lucas asked, "Does any of this help?"

Max shook her head. "No. Go get me a washcloth and a bowl."

"A bowl?" Lucas echoed.

"Lucas." Max's tone was firm. "Take Alina with you. And Will."

Will nudged him, and Alina rose to her feet, and soon the three of them were setting off. Now it was only Mike, Max, Gabe and El staying behind. Gabe rose to his feet. "What can I do?"

Max met his gaze. "Well, you look like you just murdered somebody. Or ate somebody. Go wash up. I'm sure there's a bathroom around here. And if it's locked, you know how to pick it."

That was true. Max had taught him how to work miracles with paperclips after the AV disaster last year. And there were two on the floor, scattered with the rest of Lucas's very unhelpful supplies. And so with a nod and one final look to El, Gabe stood and made his way to the bathroom, taking the paperclips with him.

He got lucky enough to find it wasn't locked, and entered the men's room, flipping on the light and looking at himself in the mirror. And... wow. He really did look like he'd just murdered somebody. All of the blood coated on his face, along with the muck staining his clothes and the imprint of Billy's handprint lining his cheeks... he was practically a stranger. He quickly ducked down, turning on the faucet and wiping it off so he didn't have to see that anymore.

His chest was tight. He was no stranger to gore, but what had happened during the past few days had managed to surpass his limits. Bile built in his throat as he watched the water in the sink turn pink, globs of blackish blood and muck flaking off his face as he scrubbed at it. Tears burned in his eyes, and he closed them, attempting to keep them at bay.

Meanwhile, Lucas, Will and Alina were going on their so-far unsuccessful quest to find a bowl. They roamed into the cereal aisle, filled with brightly colored boxes that were far too cheery for everything that was currently going on, searching for their item. "Bowl..." Lucas kept muttering unnecessarily, because they all knew what they were looking for. "Bowl... bowl..." he clicked his tongue, for there was no bowl in sight. "Why wouldn't it be with the cereal?"

"I don't know," said Will.

"Maybe 'cause cereal isn't the only thing you eat out of a bowl, stupid," Alina said, flicking her boyfriend's arm playfully. Although her mind was still whirling with what had just happened, she was pleasantly surprised to find that this time, she hadn't sustained a major injury, and that had been solely because of Lucas. Otherwise, she might have been either flayed or also propped against the shelf beside El. "Stupid is a term of endearment, by the way."

"Thanks," said Lucas, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "But what else do you use a bowl for?"

"I—I don't know," said Will again.

"Soup," suggested Alina. "Stew. Uh, ice cream. Yogurt. You can also eat salad out of a bowl if you're weird."

"Hey, I eat salad out of a bowl."

"And haven't I always called you weird for it, oh dear brother of mine?"

Lucas let out a laugh, licked his lips, and then abruptly stopped in his tracks. "Oh, shit."

Alina looked where he was looking, and her eyes widened. In front of them, bathed in neon light from the illuminated Coca-Cola stand hanging on the wall was a stand, packed to the absolute brim with fireworks. A big warning sign told them that they were explosive, but none of the trio paid attention to it, just stared at it in all of its glory. There were many different types of the colorful fireworks, packed with enough power to... to...

"Woah." Alina murmured. This might just work.

All three of them immediately made their way to the stand, buzzing in excitement, and Lucas picked up the box of yellow fireworks that seemed to be the main focus of the stand. "Satan's Baby," he announced, holding it like it was, indeed, a baby. Then he turned to the siblings. "You two ever shot one of these suckers?"

"Have you met Joyce Byers?" Alina asked, crossing her arms, though she was secretly envious. "No. And my dad never let me near those, either."

"No," Will echoed. "Is it sweet?"

Lucas grinned. "That's an understatement." He nodded wisely, as if this forty-dollar box of fireworks was a magic sword he'd fished out of a lake. There was a memory dancing in his eyes, a good memory, and he seemed like he was about to elaborate on it when a new voice joined the conversation.

"That doesn't look like a bowl."

It was Max, trailed by Gabe, with a freshly washed face and wearing a hideous oversized Hawaiian shirt he must've found on one of the racks. He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously when he noticed Alina's grin, and gave her a sheepish shrug.

Lucas shook his head. "Nah. It's way better. There is a reason this warning label says 'eighteen or older.' This sucker is filled with a hundred and fifty grains of black powder. AKA gunpowder." He tossed her the box, and Max fumbled to catch it. "Strap two of these together," Lucas continued, "and it's bigger than an M-80. Five of them?" Lucas paused dramatically, looking around at his friends. "We've got ourselves a stick of dynamite."

"Hey, that might actually work," pondered Alina, picking up another Satan's Baby. "I mean, if we exploded the Mind Flayer, it couldn't reform back together." That's if she wasn't thinking about the flayed it was made of. Like Heather. But... if they were all goo, how were they going to reform back together?

Max was looking doubtful. "You wanna kill that thing with fireworks?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Uh, yeah. Eleven." Max tossed the box back at Lucas hard, hitting him in the chest with it. But he wasn't fazed.

"Against that thing?" he asked. "She's gonna need some backup. Other than Alina."

Max just rolled her eyes. "Oh, my God. Gabe, since you're actually being helpful, can you find a bowl for me, please?"

"Got it," Gabe nodded. He began to set off before Will's cry stopped him.

"Don't waste your time in the cereal aisle, we didn't find any bowls there."

That made Gabe turn around, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Why would a bowl be in the cereal aisle?" he asked, and then he was gone.

"Hold this." Lucas passed the Satan's Baby to Will, who clutched it gingerly, as if he expected it to explode right there and then. "Al, help me carry these." He began to load box upon box into Will's arms, causing the boy to wobble slightly.

"Hey, you know, this idea's pretty smart," Alina admitted. "You're pretty smart. And, plus, you're my knight in shining armor. You saved my life back at the cabin."

Will was starting to look uncomfortable. Lucas didn't seem to notice.

"You've saved my life, like, a thousand times," he said. "I'm just returning the favor. But I'm probably still like eighty lives in your debt."

Alina laughed, and then moved away from him. "I'm going to get some ice," she explained. "For my ribs. They're getting a little bit sore. I'll meet you two back where El is, okay?"

"Got it," Lucas nodded, and then Alina was off, leaving her boyfriend and brother behind to stockpile fireworks they'd soon use to save the world.

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

a/n: gabe and hopper are twinning <3 lmfaooo the thought of gabe in a hawaiian shirt just genuinely made me chuckle, which is why i had to put him in one. he's so baby, i miss writing him so much 🥺

next chapter, we've got the infamous new coke discussion, and gabe as the only pov! we're getting so close to the reunion between all of the groups, and i'm literally so excited for it :)) no spoilers, but alina and erica make a POWERFUL duo!!

'till next time!