A/n: y/n and max bonding time !! ☺ we love and support healthy female friendships in this fic 😚

||3rd Person POV||

The rickety wooden door to the Byers shed is ripped open, and Hopper tugs at the pull chain bathing the shed in a dusty yellow light. To his left stands Mike and Y/n who accompany him, and he shakes his head with a decisive nod.

"Yeah, this'll work."

The young Henderson girl can't help but sigh at the irony of this room being the setting of the interrogation with the monster that took over Will. Given this was the very place he was taken. Y/n had not found out this particular detail until weeks after his full recovery. He had shared this with her on the same day she had shared her powers with him.

How drastically everything had changed since then.

And deep down she knew, things would only continue to change. It was a feeling of absolute certainty deep in her core. She knew it to be true just as sure she was that the sunset in the evening and rose in the morning; Nothing would ever be the same again.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The shed had been empty in a matter of minutes thanks to Hopper. After the details of the plan began to cement, Y/n lingered behind for the majority of this allotted time to help the man clear the room of all its contents, though she was soon called inside to help Mike and the others prepare.

Nancy and Steve now stood alone in the shed, having been tasked with the job of covering the shed's walls. For several minutes they worked in an amplified silence beside the constant ripping of duct tape and sharp thuds from the staple gun.

Nancy was the first to break this silence.

"Hey," Steve stepped down from the stool to reload his staple gun, and he turns to meet the girl's gentle smile. "What you did, um, helping the kids... that was... really cool."

"Yeah," he mutters, breaking away from her tempting gaze and returning to his work on the stool. "Those little shits are real trouble, you know?"

Nancy nods, fighting a smile as she returns to her roll of duck tape. "Believe me, I know."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Outside and just around the corner of the yard, Lucas and Dustin finished emptying the contents of the trash and kneeled down to the grass to examine its contents for any useful materials for the walls.

Not unlike Nancy, Dustin decides to take advantage of the brief calm before the storm to reconcile with the boy beside him.

"Hey," Dustin eases. "I'm... I'm sorry about Dart and all. I guess I just thought that he was my friend."

Lucas does not fail to notice Dustin's dry scoff at himself at his own realization.

"I was wrong. I broke the rule of law, so if you want your girlfriend to take over my spot in the party, I understand."

Lucas laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "She's not my girlfriend."

"I saw you two holding hands in the bus, Lucas."

"She was just scared."

"Maybe," Dustin nods sadly. "but I could feel it."

"Feel what?"

Dustin looks at his friend sincerely, finally understanding what Steve had told him about.

"The electricity."

With that, Dustin balls up his findings of newspaper for the shed and rises to his feet, heading around the house. Lucas sits in careful contemplation at his words, unable to shake the swarm of thoughts they had brought.

He merely sighs, and returns to work, his head and heart buzzing.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Max and Mike sit in silence in the kitchen. Mike with his head in the cupboard as he fishes for supplies and Max beside him on the floor stitching together strips of cardboard with duct tape. She smiles fondly.

"I get it now," She says.

Without turning around, Mike throws back a grumbled response. "Get what?"

She quirks a brow, still a hint of an understanding smile. "You know, why Y/n's your druid? El too, I get why she was your mage."

The sudden and unexpected mention of El is what breaks Mike's attention away from his task, and he looks over his shoulder at Max pointedly.

"What?"

"Well, the whole 'Y/n saving our asses in the junkyard' show was kind of a tip-off," she begins jokingly, but it stops when she notices the warning in his eyes, and she softens. "Lucas. He told me about her. El, I mean."

"Yeah, well, he shouldn't have." Mike spits back.

Max listens unsurprised at his hostile attitude towards her, though it doesn't change her offense at his venom.

"And just because you know the truth, it doesn't mean you're in our party. You do know that, right?"

A rather light thump comes from down the hall, followed by a small string of hushed cursing. It grabs their attention only briefly before they dismiss it altogether, knowing they weren't the only ones rushing around in preparation.

"Y-yeah, I know," Max visibly deflates, returning her attention to the carboard in her hands, and scoffs sadly. "I mean, why would you want a stupid zoomer in your party anyway?"

Mike stifles a glance in her direction but returns to the cupboard in an attempt to move on.

"I'm just saying, El?" Max continues gently. "She sounds like she was really awesome."

"Yeah, she was," Mike concludes, closing the cupboard doors and collecting what he had gathered. "Until that thing took her. Just like it took Bob."

Mike rises to his feet, managing to cast one more cold glance at the girl as he heads for the back door, leaving her all alone.

Max frowns, feeling yet another prick of defeat and anger from the boy's stubborn ways. Bitterly, she rips another strip of tape from the roll, finishing off another tube of cardboard for the leg of the stool meant for Will.

It was tedious work, going to the extreme of disguising a chair but necessary according to Joyce and the others closest to Will. They couldn't risk a single identifiable object that could possibly clue in Will as to where they were. And that included a simple stool that had belonged to the Byers for years.

Max sighed when she heard the shuffling of footsteps behind her, and without looking she casts a sour look over her shoulder towards who she believed to be Mike.

"Forget something, maybe another insult? Well, you haven't told me how annoying I am in the last ten minutes, so naturally, you must be dying inside,"

"Well, I wouldn't say annoying. Persistent, maybe, but that's hardly an insult," chirped a familiar voice that certainly wasn't Mike.

Relieved, Max saw Y/n approach the kitchen table, her arms overflowing with cardboard and newspaper that threatened to spill. Quickly, she dispenses them on the existing pile on the table.

Max cracked a smile that lasted only seconds and returned to her gaze to her work. "Thought you were Mike," she mumbled.

Y/n's gentle and light-hearted demeanor melted into that of empathy for the girl. She sighs, wondering how she could possibly ease the tension in the room and settles on grabbing her own squares of cardboard. She joins Max on the kitchen floor. The two begin to work in silence for a good few moments when Y/n softly speaks up.

"I don't know if you know this, but, I used to be the outsider of the group,"

Max says nothing, but she looks up from her finishing touches on the stool to look at Y/n, her interest piqued. Y/n is still fixed on her own pieces, and she reaches for a patch of tape, her eyes meeting with Max casually and briefly.

"When Dustin and I moved here in the fourth grade, I had a hard time making friends. I had some, back in y/h/t, but moving was kind of hard on me, and over time I lost touch."

Max was now watching Y/n studiously, more or less a bit surprised at how similar it sounded to her own experiences.

"Dustin had more luck socializing here than I did, and... I got pretty lonely." She grabs another strip of cardboard and tape. "Eventually, he started bringing his new friends over. Like, all the time. It only reminded me of how lonely I was, and, even though I knew he wasn't trying to, it felt like Dustin was rubbing it in."

Max frowned softly, unable to imagine the kid would want to do something like that. And she had only known him a week. Nevertheless, she stayed silent, listening closely.

A weak and almost non-audible chuckle escaped the Henderson girl.

"I was always on the outside looking in," her voice quieted sadly, her brows knitted together in a frown. "They had their own inside jokes, games. Their own secret language, everything. Stuff even I didn't have with my old friends. And for a long time, I was just 'Dustin's sister'."

Unable to bite back her curiosity, Max finally spoke, now completely invested in her story. "So what changed?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across Y/n's face, clearly recalling a warm memory she hadn't thought of in a long time.

"Will," Y/n finally looked away from her work and met Max's gaze. "He fought for me. He helped me stand up to them, specifically my brother. The others were way easier to convince, it was Dustin that put up a fight."

Y/n sighs softly, dispelling the weight settling on her heart. She looks at her new friend determinedly, Mike's harsh words to Max she had inadvertently overheard ringing in her ears.

"I know it's easier said than done, believe me," she begins. "But try not to let Mike get to you."

Max halts at her words, gaze now focused on the tile floor, and she glances at Y/n through her peripheral vision.

"He's in a lot of pain since El left," Y/n mumbled, the ever-present weight of guilt on her shoulders from her secret immediately grows ten times heavier, and she can feel it sitting on her lungs. "She meant a lot to him, to all of us really. But Mike took it the hardest... My point is,"

She took a deep breath and looked back at Max until she returned her gaze.

"We all want you in the party. We all really like you. And even though Mike is still working through his feelings, doesn't mean he won't come around. Besides, he doesn't solely determine who's in and who's out, no more than Dustin, or any of us, really."

A mischievous grin curled at her lips as she recalled what the boys had told Max on Halloween. She spoke with a hint of a mocking tone, trying her best to imitate Dustin that day.

"After all, our party's a democracy, and the majority voted that you could stay,"

The girls shared the briefest of seconds with their gaze locked on one another as their smiles grew. The silence was broken almost immediately as the two burst into fits of laughter, and each girl felt a great deal lighter than their current situation had previously allowed them.

Gradually the laughter died down, but their smiles remained, allowing the warmth of each other's company to keep them distracted for as long as they could.

"Thanks, Y/n," Max said, earnestly, almost feeling silly for letting her guard down, but she couldn't help it. Instead, she embraced it. "I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Max. And hey," Max looked back up curiously, her brow arched. "For what it's worth, I do mean it. We all want you in. And after all that's gone down in the past hour alone, well..."

Max felt the warmth in her chest grow at what the girl said next, and between her moment with Lucas on the bus and now, she couldn't recall a single moment since she had moved to Hawkins she had felt at home. Had felt accepted.

"Mike's wrong. You're one of us, now,"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan rips another blanket off the clothesline and looks to his mother.

"You sure this is gonna work?"

"He knew who I was," Joyce croaked, heart heavy. "He's still in there."

There's a solid passion in her voice, and Jonathan can tell she's forcing her words over a swollen lump in her throat, but he can't blame her. He's had one himself all night. And it only grows when he hears what his mother has to say next. And by the sound of it, the last bit seems to be her assuring herself.

"It's going to work," she proclaims. "It has to."

He nods solemnly, deciding he has no other choice but to believe in their plan. With a sigh, he reaches up over his head, scissors in hand, and begins to gather every last scrap of string he can harvest.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

With all the supplies now collected, everyone gathers in the Byers shed; disguising the floor and walls in sheets of tarp, cardboard, newspaper, and tinfoil, a budding sense of hope blooming in everyone's hearts. Not a single square inch is uncovered, even the sheds two posts are completely cloaked as are the chairs Max and Y/n had disguised. They sit in the center of the shed, one pushed up against each post, and a set of outdoor lights have been moved inside and hung to face where Will is to sit.

The small wooden shed had now been completely transformed and would have been practically unrecognizable to anyone who hadn't contributed. Exactly as everyone had hoped.

Jonathan was the one to retrieve Will, and as he carried his limp brother in his arms, a very similar thought to Y/n's had crossed his mind. How peaceful Will looked as he slept. It was the same little boy who used to crawl into bed with him when he'd have a nightmare. The same little boy who'd fall asleep against his shoulder as the two of them hid away from the screaming matches that took place when Lonnie was still around.

It was his little brother that he loved so much.

And the fact that that would all change as soon as he woke up, it would be another inescapable dagger to the heart. But it was something he was willing to face if it meant they were one step closer to getting Will back.

Will collapses limply into the chair he is placed in, and Jonathan has to keep one hand on his shoulder to steady him as they bound him to the chair. The clothesline he had cut down was now coiled tightly - but not too tight of course, though Jonathan can not help but worry if it was a wise choice of binding - around Will's ragdoll form and the post he sits against. The back pair of the chair's legs are woven much tighter against the post, ensuring Will is unable to scoot away should he break free.

For an extra measure, the wire stretched even farther than the boy's torso and wound around his wrists and ankles as well. Lucas hooks up the extension cord and connects it with the lamp, and it comes to life. The shed is now fully immersed in a sickening and even blinding, white light that is mounted across the room facing Will. The new source of light adds an even more chilling touch as it now enunciates the sickly color of Will's skin.

The boy is as white as a sheet, his dark brown bangs that dangle over his eyes create a stark contrast against his skin. It is not in the least bit assuring to the state of his condition, but they know it is a necessary measure. It's harsh intensity made it near impossible to see who or what was beyond it.

In this case, it was five figures packed in behind the lamp, each of them gazing at the boy with racing minds and beating hearts: Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan, Mike, and Y/n.

She protested at first. Not because of nerves though she couldn't deny she had them, but worried he would refuse to talk if she were present. It had taken quite a great deal of convincing on Mike's part, but he wouldn't back down.

"He needs to see you, Y/n."

"Mike, our goal is to get him to talk to us. He wouldn't even look at me last time I was here and that was before the Mind Flayer completely took over."

"He's still in there, Y/n. I know it. And I think you know it too."

She sighed and looked away breifly shaking her head.

"I don't know about this, Mike." His pleading look does little to shake her certainty. "I'm telling you, he won't open up if I'm here. The Mind Flayer despises me, I know it."

"But we're not trying to talk to the Mind Flayer, we're trying to talk to Will. And I'm telling you, that Will is nuts about you. He tells you everything. He trusts you. Will trusts you. That's what we need right now."

Her gaze wanders beyond Mike and towards her unconscious friend worriedly. She nibbles on the inside of her cheek as a side effect of her growing worry though she has to remind herself to stop. A sharp exhale breaks through her and she looks back at Mike, uncertainty laced in her voice.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Not a minute later Joyce and Hopper had returned from the house where they had finished preparations with the others. The rest of the party, Nancy, and Steve stayed behind, all of them spread out amongst the kitchen where Hopper left a walkie. The other one grasped tightly in his hand should something go wrong and Joyce had fetched the bottle of ammonia Mike had dug out in during his chat with Max.

Now here they stand with nothing left to do but wake Will. Hopper cuts through the newest silence first as he glances at everyone, his gaze landing on Joyce.

"Alright, you ready?"

Without taking her eyes off her son, Joyce nods firmly.

"Yeah,"

Hopper steps forward, shaking the contents of the ammonia bottle around as he holds it at his side. Even though he towers over the small boy, he can't help but grow anxious and fearful of Will knowing what he is about to awake. Regardless he steps foward, kneeling beside his small sleeping form and unscrews the cap.

Everyone watches intently from across the room, and Y/n timidly shrinks back further beyond the post in hopes of not giving herself away too soon.

His eyes barely leaving Will, Hopper tips the bottle and douses a small handkerchief and he brings it to Will's nose in great apprehension.

At first nothing happens, but that changes in a matter of seconds as his head whips up unnaturally fast. He lets out a chilling gasp and his eyes rip open to reveal his once kind hazel green irises were now a cold, and dark brown that were now filled with hostility.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dustin stands rooted at the kitchen window, his uneasy stare fixed on the closed shed in the yard. His mind is filled with a variety of scenerios as to what his sister and the others could possibly be experiencing. It's almost too much to handle and in this fleeting moment Dustin finds himself experiencing what he realizes to be not even a sliver of what Y/n normally goes through.

He takes a deep breath, attempting to put his mind at ease and leaves the window. He sheds his hat, anxiously running his fingers through his curls as he begins to pace. Nancy watches him pass as she leans against a nearby wall, her attention returning once again to the walkie on the table, ready to answer it should the occasion arrise.

Steve stands in the living room alone, an iron grip on his bat as he gets a few practice swings in. Like Nancy, his growing anxiety has manifested itself into its own unique form, and much like Dustin he finds himself unable to sit still. The same could not be said for Max and Lucas, who now sat up against the hallway walls across from one another.

Max looks up at Lucas, her fingers still mindlessly fiddling with a fray on her jacket sleeve.

"If he finds out where we are..." she begins. "will he send those, dogs, after us?"

"He won't find out." Lucas insists.

Max nibbles at the inside of her cheek before speaking in a timid voice.

"Yeah, but, if he does?"

Lucas meets her eyes with a furrowed brow, and for a moment she senses all hope inside him had flickered out when he spoke. And his very words struck a bolt of fear into her heart, chilling her blood raising every hair at the inevitable danger she had found herself in.

"Judgement day,"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
What you can do to help the Black Lives Matter movement. Don't ever give up!! Links in the comments below as usual

All white and non-black followers/readers of mine, I implore you to take a designated amount of time out of each day devoted to educating yourselves on this matter and how to be a better ally. Here are some books that can help with that:

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

"For white and non-Black people who feel they don't know how to start having these conversations, Oluo has generously provided a resource about how to be honest and thoughtful in examining not just racism in the world, but also white people's own role in it."

How To Be Antiracist by Ibram X Kendi

"Rather than figuring out how to fix things within our pre-existing systems, Kendi uses the power of memoir to reimagine a society that is not free from racism, but also actively working against racism at all times."

[Link to both in comments]

And finally, below is a completely free Google doc full of free pdfs written by black activists:

[Link in comments]