THE RAIN CONTINUED TO POUR.

Carla watched it from the passenger seat of Steve's car, eyes glazing over every raindrop as it hit the windshield, sliding down to the front of the car, or as they raced against one another towards the bottom of the window.  The sound, though muffled, was still prominent, thunder coming through every few minutes.  The weather almost comforted Carla—even the world was letting itself shed a few tears.

Steve sat beside her, playing around with her hands gently.  He traced over her palms, going over the bracelet the Party had gotten her two years prior and down to her scars.  Unlike some, Carla never completely hid her scars away—not like she completely could, either.  But, that didn't mean she wasn't entirely secure about them.  If she could turn back time, she would have.  She hated her scars; they only reminded her of the Demogorgan, of the pain.

But, she could admit, Steve helped her feel more comfortable.  While, sure, he did think about her almost death whenever he saw them, he quickly glimpsed over that.  He'd think about how while the Demogorgan may have 'marked her',  Carla survived.  Whenever she felt down about them, he reminded her that she looked bad-ass with them.  That they showed how strong she was.

"Hey." Carla broke the small pool of silence they'd been sitting in.  Thinking about turning back time got the Wheeler thinking about what could be happening if, indeed, nothing had happened—if Will hadn't gone missing, if she hadn't have ended up in the Byers' house, if she hadn't been pinned by the Demogorgan. "Do you ever think of how it would be if nothing ever happened? No monsters, no Upside Down."

Steve took a minute to reply, "Yeah. Sometimes I just think back to '83, before anything went wrong and try and picture that version of myself now—picture of who I would have been if I'd never showed up at the Byers' that night. I was such a douche-bag, and I can't even imagine still being that person now."

Carla listened, nodding as he continued, "So, in some weird way, I'm slightly appreciative of all of it.  I don't know how, but it caused me to get my shit together and turn into a better person."

"I was never an asshole, so I couldn't relate." Carla shrugged, thinking about where she'd be if nothing had happened.  She wouldn't have the scars, or the nightmares. She'd be hanging around with Jonathan, third-wheeling her sister and Steve.  "But I don't think much about me would have changed.  I'd probably be pushing my way through the summer, third-wheeling you and Nancy."

"I disagree."

"About what?"

"Me and Nancy." the Harrington stated, "I mean, sure, we might have lasted longer but I like to think we—" he gestured between the two of them, "—would have found our way back to each other eventually."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Steve looked at his girlfriend.  He always reminded the girl that it had always been her, which had always been true.  Back in sophomore year, when he left the first note in her locker, his friends, Tommy had chastised him, but for once, Steve didn't listen.  Something had drawn him to Carla Wheeler, and even after their break-up—when he was going out with Laurie and Amy and Becky—his heart still yearned for her.   "I love you, I always have.  I don't think I would have been able to push back my feelings forever—even if we got closer again because of everything."

"I like to think we would have made it back to each other too."  the Wheeler girl gave a genuine smile towards the boy she loved, "Because, believe it or not, I love you too."

"You do?" Steve sarcastically replied, leaning towards her.  Carla gave a hum in response as his lips pressed against hers in a soft gesture.  The rain continued to sound from behind them, which gave Steve an idea.  He quickly pulled away from the kiss—his girlfriend giving a confused look—and put a hand on the door handle, "Let's go dance in the rain."

Carla raised a brow, "It's pouring out."

"So? Our clothes are already soaked anyway." Steve stated, speaking on the only slightly dry appearances they both wore, "Please? You know you want to."

A small smile grew on Carla's face as she rolled her eyes, "You are  such a child, Steve Harrington."

"And you are the love of my life, Carla Wheeler." the Harrington replied, opening up his car door, "Now, come on."

  Why she was agreeing to this, the Wheeler wasn't exactly sure, but for whatever reason, she copied his movements and opened her side of the car.  The rain fell against her as she exited the vehicle, causing her to shudder, "Oh shit! Steve, it's freezing!"

"We'll only be out here for a few minutes, I promise." Steve promised, out-stretching his hand towards his girlfriend, who still cautiously stood by the car, on the verge of getting back inside of it.  He sent her a knowing look, "Carla."

"I'm coming." the girl replied, beginning to walk through the rain.  She took Steve's hand, allowing the boy to spin her around.  She could feel the rain re-dampening her shirt and skirt,  causing the materials to stick to her skin.  Her hair was falling flat against her face, but once she took the boy's hand, she truly didn't care.  Steve had brought her out to have some fun—why get worked up about water?

So, with her new attitude, she allowed a laugh to fall past her lips as the boy spun her around.  Pulling her closer, he wrapped his hands around her waist.  Carla laid her head in the crook of his neck, one hand snaking up his back to find refuge on his shoulder, the other intertwining with his as the slowly moved in sync.

Closing her eyes, Carla felt as if it was just them.  As if they were the only two people in the world.   As if they were just an average, care-free couple and not a couple who found themselves mixed up with monsters.

Taking her from those thoughts was a sudden shift in position. Steve's hands rearranged themselves to where one was now holding her leg, the other her mid-back as he dipped her, another laugh escaping her as he did so.

Carla was quick to move her hands too, one around his neck to support herself, the other cupping his face.  She pulled him close, connecting their lips as the rain poured down around them, acting like they were the only two people in the world.

The rain poured within her nightmare, too.

Her eyes fluttered open, and this time, this was quick to recognize the place.  Brimborn Steelworks—just as she'd found herself the previous night.  Muffled struggle filled the room, and Carla looked around to find two people tied up on the floor, gags around their mouths.

Carla didn't recognize these people, but that didn't mean she felt completely fine about the situation.  She was scared for what was about to happen to these poor people, and angry that she couldn't do anything to help.

The sound of clicking heels ended the two's muffled sounds, and Carla—as well as the two tied up people—turned their heads towards it.  Unlike the two helpless ones, the Wheeler did recognize the two incoming figures as Heather Holloway and Billy Hargrove.

Carla's brows furrowed at the sight of the lifeguard girl.  Hadn't the monster gotten her the night before? But then again, this was a nightmare.  Nothing made sense because it wasn't real—or maybe that was just what Carla was trying to convince herself.

"Hi, Daddy." Heather spoke calmly, kneeling down in front of the tied up man—who Carla now knew was her father—to take off the gag.  She did so with such composure; a blank face that showed no emotion.  Carla would be terrified if she saw her mother and father in such a position, which caused her to question how the girl spoke with such calmness.  Was she truly unafraid of what was about to happen, or was there a more sinister reason behind her blank expression?

Mr. Holloway gave an almost heartbroken expression when he noticed Billy behind her, watching her every move with the same emotionless expression. His eyes met hers, "Heather, sweetie, whatever this is, whatever he's got you into, you don't have to do this."   He shook his head as the woman beside him—who Carla assumed to be his wife—whimpered in fear, "You can stop this." 

"There is no stopping it, Daddy." Heather leaned forward, her father letting out a confused gasp at her words. A quick smile appeared, "You'll see."

The Holloway caressed her fathers cheek, the man leaning into the embrace before feeling it slip out from under him, his daughter walking away.  Billy then came forward and removed the gag from Mrs. Holloway, who was quick to plead with her daughter. "Heather, please! Heather!"

The Hargrove put a finger to her lips, quieting the older woman.  He leaned in, speaking with a firm voice, "Try not to move."  

 The Wheeler remembered similar words from the previous nightmare, and knew what was about to happen to the Holloway couple.

As Heather and Billy walked right up the stairs, right past the Wheeler girl, who stood silently, the parents called out for their daughter.  Heather walked right past without pausing, but when Billy did the same, his eyes lingered on where Carla's figure would be—just as he had the previous night.

Could he see her?  Was he letting her see what was going on?  Carla didn't want to know, and continued to stand quietly.  Her wrists burned even stronger than they had before, and she bit her lip as her mind went alert.   

The monster came forward with a roar and the Wheeler quickly turned away as she heard the tied up couple make an attempt at breaking free, at saving themselves from whatever was going to happen.

"You should watch." 

Carla's head whipped in the direction of the voice to see herself standing beside her.  The replica's arms were crossed, and she stared forward, watching with a blank face as the monster connected itself to the couple's mouth, pumping God knows what into them.

"Why?" Carla wasn't sure why she bothered responding.  She was talking to some made-up version of herself.  "What do you want from me?"

"I told you, this is your future."  the replica replied, "He wants you—"

"I know!" the Wheeler girl exclaimed angrily.  She didn't want to be apart of this stupid game.   She just wanted everything to be normal.  "But why me? What makes me different from Heather, or Mr. and Mrs. Holloway?" 

The replica Carla held up her arm, tapping the scars that ran down it, "Remember these?"

"And? They're scars."

"They're not just scars.  Think of them like our little connection to him."  the replica replied, "He sees potential in you.  A lot of it. That's why he wants you so badly."

"I don't want this!" Carla said in frustration, "I don't want to be like you, or a piece in whatever the hell this is."

A replica shrugged, "It's too late. Sooner or later, you'll be like us."

Carla was thankful that today was her day off from working.

After her second nightmare, she didn't feel like showing up to the library—she was awfully tired, and wasn't in the right mindset, just as she was yesterday.  The conversation between her and herself keeping replaying in her mind, and it would have been hard to work with that on the mind.

So, Carla now sat in the break room of Scoops Ahoy,  dazing off as Dustin went on how to get inside the Russian elevator they'd gotten a chance to look at the previous night.  The Wheeler was normally someone who listened to every word someone had to say, but today, she was only half listening to Dustin—she didn't really care for the Russians at the moment. 

"That keycard opens the door, but unfortunately, the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun." Dustin explained to the three elder teens in the room, all three situated at the table in the middle of the room, "Whatever's in this room, whatever's in those boxes, they really don't want anyone finding it."

"There's got to be a way in." Robin shook her head.

"Well, you know....." Steve blew into his hat, setting it on the table to gain everyone's attention.  He leaned forward, "I could just take him out."

Robin raised a brow, "Take who out?"

 "The Russian guard." Steve replied as if it were obvious, everyone else sending a questioning look at his answer, to which he sent a confused look back to, "What? I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It's easy."

Dustin crossed his arms, "Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?"

"Yes, Dustin, I did." Steve sent an annoyed look towards his younger companion.  He mimicked walking with his fingers, moving them across the table, "And that's why I would be sneaking."

The Wheeler girl sent an unsure look towards her boyfriend.  She was sure he'd be able to start the fight, throw the first punch....but she was rather weary when it came to him leaving the fight conscious.  So, speaking  up for the first time since entering the ice cream parlor, she asked, "Babe, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but, have you ever actually won a fight?"

"Okay, Carla, that was one time—"

Dustin interrupted, "Twice. Jonathan. Year prior?"

"Listen, that doesn't count."

"Why wouldn't it count? Because it looks like he beat the shit out of you. You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye, lots of blood—"

"—a lot of things that all added up.  I mean, Carla got the first punch anyway, so it's not like Jonathan even started it and it probably wouldn't have even happened—"

Carla slightly rolled her eyes at the two's bickering and instead thought back to what they were arguing over; Jonathan vs Steve.  She still clearly remembered the fight, what happened for it to start to begin with. Tommy had sprayed the marquee, they'd confronted Steve,  he'd started shit-talking the Byers', she'd told him that she couldn't believe she'd ever fallen for him.......and then she'd punched him.

Carla hid the memory away again—she didn't really like thinking back to when her boyfriend was an asshole.  She was rather glad he'd changed for the better, whether or not it was monsters or common sense that caused him to do so.

Taking Carla from her thoughts was the Buckley girl, who quickly stood up muttering, "That just might work."

As the girl ran out of the break room, Steve chased after her—the other two occupants in the room as well—watching as she grabbed all the dollar bills from their tip jar.   Thinking of how unfair that was, he called out, "Robin? Hey, Robin! Hey, what—what are you doing?"

Robin walked backwards, "I need cash."

"Well, half of that's mine! Where're you going?"

"To find us a way into that room, a safe way.  And, in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don't get beat up! Oh, and Carla's in charge!" the blonde gave a small salute, Steve sending her an unimpressed look, "I'll be back in a jiff."

The three teens stay silent, all staring at Robin—the two boys confused, Carla confidently.  She turned towards her boyfriend, "I'd trust her. She figured out the code last time she ran off on her own."

"With your help—Oh dude." Steve's eyes drifted away from his girlfriend and to the boy standing beside her, watching as he licked ice cream right off the scooper.  Snatching the utensil,  he let out a groan, "Come on, man, not my scooper." He flipped the item and smoothly placed it back in his pocket.

"And now we wait." Carla sighed, hoping that whatever idea Robin had would help in the long run.

mara's misc!

i really don't like this chapter and i don't know why.  it's not badly written it's just giving me the ick rn.

i had to include a 'dancing in the rain' scene, idc what ya'll say.  i might have been reading one too many steve imagines over the weekend and got in a romantic mood and i feel like starla would just do it for funises in general.

also, before i literally forget for the third time, this was what carla was wearing in the beginning of the chapter+last chapter.  i forgot to include it last time so i'm just gonna put it here.

this outfit is also like inspo in general, bc this outfit screams carla to me and she'd totally wear shit like this all summer long.

hope you enjoyed<3 see you back with chapter 7