FOR OBVIOUS REASONS, CARLA FOUND HERSELF IN THE HOSPITAL THE NEXT DAY.

After the sauna events, she and the Party agreed it would be best if she sought out medical help for all the injuries that were now littered across her skin—the bruises on her neck, the gash on her head, the concussion she probably had, as well as any other damage that could have been done.

However, they were quite unsure on how to do it.

Carla, as well as everyone else, knew it wouldn't be easy to bring a girl who looked like hell into the hospital without explaining exactly why she looked that bad, and in that case, what were they supposed to say? The truth?

Was Carla supposed to tell them she was wanted by an inter-dimensional-creature? That she was attacked by a boy who wasn't really himself because he was being controlled by said monster?

And while Carla usually leaned towards honesty, they'd all be better off if they lied instead, to which they did.

So, Mike came up with a different story they could use to cover up her injuries.  They found her when they got there.

Basic, yet believable.

Following through with that story, Mike went over a small plan with the others to make sure everyone ended up where they needed to be—Carla in the ambulance, and the Party without too much questioning.

While Will called 9-1-1, the younger Wheeler instructed everyone on where to go, sending Max and Lucas up to show the EMTS where to go, him and Eleven staying in the sauna room with Carla, acting as if they'd been watching over her.  Under her brother and friend's watch, Carla pretended to be unconscious, so any further questioning would wait until she was safe and secure.

And when the ambulance finally arrived at the scene, Mike told a cover story with as much emotion as he could muster, "Me and my friends were going to try and convince my sister to let us swim here late—she and the manager have a thing going on—but when I got here, she wasn't out in the parking lot like she said she'd be.  When I looked for her....I-I found her knocked out on the ground.  I didn't get to see her attacker."

None of what he said was true—Mike didn't even know who the manager to Hawkins Pool was—but it wasn't like the truth was even an option.  He had indeed seen Carla's attacker, but he wasn't going to throw the Hargrove's name into the story.   While attacking someone was kinda in his nature, Billy wasn't himself when he did that to Carla.  He was under the Mind Flayer's influence and it would be hard to explain to anyone who didn't already know the story....or to people in general.

But, the EMTS didn't question Mike any further than that, and ended up taking his sister to the hospital, to which she now sat; trapped in an overly sterilized bed. 

Beside her, in a rather uncomfortable seat, sat Karen Wheeler, gaze set on her currently dozed off daughter. 

The moment Karen had received the call informing that her daughter was currently being stitched up inside the hospital, the mother had imagined the worst, and raced from her house without even hearing what had truly happened to her girl.

When her daughter didn't return home that night, Karen was quick to brush it off.  She assumed that Carla was spending the night at Steve's and had forgotten to call—it had happened before, and besides, Carla was always with Steve—but the moment she heard the voice of a paramedic, she couldn't help but start to fright.

The last time she'd received a call like that, Carla had been bleeding from both of her—some-what broken—wrists, gaunt-faced and unconscious. And while Karen had never admitted it, seeing that was one of the scariest moments of her life.  Her baby had almost died.

So, when she finally arrived at the hospital and had rushed to her daughter's designated room, Karen was more than thankful to see a fully-conscious and not-bleeding Carla, giving a weak wave from her bed—though any sort of relief gained was quickly discarded when she finally took in all of the girl's injuries.

And, being the person she was, Karen sat the whole night at her daughter's bedside, barely catching any sort of rest.  Despite her low energy, the Wheeler made her best attempt at being reassuring and gentle when her daughter awoke, to which she did exactly that.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, the blonde woman gave a small, weak, and almost sorry smile to her daughter when her eyes opened. "Hi, honey."

Carla looked up at her mother.  She didn't really know what to say.   It wasn't like she could really get into who left the bruises on her neck and the pounding in her head—though she knew that's all her mother wanted to hear.   So, instead, she gave a meek, "Hi, Mom."

As if Carla answering was the 'okay' to start asking questions, Karen dove straight into asking, starting simple with, "How are you feeling? Do you need any more medication for anything?"

 "No, I—" the girl's already quiet voice broke as she spoke, and Carla paused a moment to allow herself to reset.  

But, the small pause allowed her mother to start talking again, the woman placing a hand over Carla's, "Don't force it, baby.  Dr. Madden said it would be difficult to speak for a few days—to take it easy. Your voice is gonna go in and out." 

Carla nodded, and gave a small, "Okay."

Karen continued, "He said you were lucky that nothing was broken. Whoever did this to you wasn't going easy."

The fuck he wasn't, Carla thought to herself, though she wouldn't say it out loud of course.  She still had to act like she was under amnesia when it came to her attacker situation.

The eldest Wheeler gave a frown as she stared at her oldest daughter.   It was so hard to see her like this—voice breaking when she spoke, bruises and redness surrounding her throat, the tiredness that her face held.  More than anything, Karen wanted to know who'd done this to her girl.  Who'd been cruel enough to hurt such a kind, innocent person.

So—as she'd done any other time Carla was awake—she asked.  Squeezing her daughter's hand, she said, "Baby, who did this do you? Do you remember anything, anything at all?"

Carla hated that she was lying to her mother.  It was gnawing at her, and caused even more guilt to settle on her shoulders.  She knew her mother wanted whoever had done this to her locked up somewhere for his deeds, but she just couldn't say who.  Instead, with a solemn look, she replied, "No....All I remember was a tight grip on the back of my head."  She paused, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Carla." Karen sighed, slightly disappointed that her daughter had no relocation of her attacker.  But, she didn't want to make the girl feel bad, and replied with supporting words. "You didn't deserve this."

The two Wheeler's fell silent, listening to the beeping of Carla's hospital monitor.  The brunette was rather tired of hearing the sound of her own heartbeat.  She was tired of being in the hospital, period.

Sure, she'd wanted to go the previous night, but now that she was all stitched up, she wanted to go home.  Carla could deal with the burn in her throat, and the pounding it her head from the comfort of her own bed, not a sterilized one.

Besides, she wanted to help the Party out, because God knew they weren't just sitting around.  She knew they were planning, and wanted to be a part of it.  Even though the Mind Flayer was targeting her specifically, Carla wanted to help her friends, even if she got hurt again in the process.   Not only was she curious, but she knew they could use her. 

Breaking her train of thought was yet again Karen, who changed the conversation to something she knew her daughter would be more interested in. "So, I called Steve when you were sleeping—"

Carla quickly snapped her head towards her mother, "You did?"

She hadn't even realized that her boyfriend wasn't currently with her, but she didn't take offense to it.  The attack had happened late last night, and—while she didn't actually know the time—it was more than likely an hour of which the Harrington found himself at work and was probably stuck there....except Steve was Steve, and if he heard she was in the hospital, he would ditch Robin and the Russians and whatever the hell he was doing to go and make sure she was okay.

So, maybe she was taking some offense.

Karen nodded her head, bringing her daughter back. "Yeah, he didn't answer.  I tried calling their home phone too, but nothing there either."

"Oh." Carla slightly frowned. Steve was always one to answer in the first or second ring.  But like she assumed, he was probably at work and how could he answer the phone at home if he wasn't there? And for his home phone, well, his parents were never home either, so that made sense.

 "Did you try Scoops?" she asked.

When Karen nodded again, Carla's hopes got slightly raised but they were then popped when she admitted, "I did, but it wasn't him or his co-worker.....what's her name? Rowan?—"

"Robin." Carla quickly corrected.

"—Robin, either." the mother continued. "It was some pissed off dude and when I asked for Steve, he said he hadn't shown up."

Weird.  As much as Steve talked about skipping work, he hadn't actually done so—Robin would kill him if he did.  But, if some pissed off guy answered—who she was assuming was their manager based on the description—than the Buckley more than likely hadn't shown either, because she was more than capable of running Scoops by herself.

Carla couldn't help but think of the worst.  Had something gone wrong with the Russians? 

But, to keep her mother from questioning, the Wheeler girl ignored her thoughts and let out a small, "Odd." Before continuing on, "I'll try calling him later.  He's probably sick or late to work or something....."

Karen looked down at the watch on her hand and sighed, "I should probably go back home to check on Mike and Holly. He has everyone over, and I need to make breakfast—" She stopped herself, and turned back to her elder daughter, "Unless you need me here, because I am more than happy to stay."

Carla gave a reassuring smile and shook her head, "No, I'll be fine."

The blonde stood up, grabbing her purse from beside the chair she'd been sitting in. "Okay, call if you need me." Watching her daughter give a nod and a wave, she headed towards the door, "I'll be back in a few hours, love you."

"Love you too." Carla said quietly as her mother exited her room, letting out a small sigh once she did.  Based on her mother's words, it was early morning.   With that, a few options as to why her boyfriend hadn't answered came to mind.  

One; he was running late to work, and didn't have time to answer, (or currently driving his ass there).

Two; he was sick, and sleeping in, (though he'd been perfectly fine the previous day, so that one seemed more unlikely....)

Three; something had gone wrong with the Russians.

And while Carla wanted to believe one of the first two, her mind kept leading her back to the third.  

What if they'd gotten themselves in trouble with the Russians and no one knew they were there? What if they got Erica stuck in the vent system and something bad had happened? What if—

"Stop." Carla spoke to herself out loud.  Everything was fine.  Steve, Robin, Dustin and Erica were fine.  

Or so she was convincing herself.

Pushing the 'my boyfriend is in trouble' thoughts away, Carla instead thought about her current state.  She probably looked like shit—bruises were everywhere, her face was probably a wreck, and she hadn't been able to shower. 

So, she slowly spun around in her bed, feet lowering them on to the cool tiling of her room.  Doctor Madden had never enabled her from moving, so she decided to escape the bed she'd been stuck in for the past hours, and stood up, walking over to the bathroom—which was connected to her room, making the trip rather easy.

Flicking the light switch up, the lights turned out, illuminating the room in a weak lighting.  But, Carla wasn't complaining because her eyes were too busy eyeing up her figure in the dingy mirror the bathroom provided her.

It wasn't her face that looked horrible—sure she still felt disgusting, but she looked like herself.  Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and of course she looked fragile, but it was tolerable to Carla—but her neck, which wasn't too surprising given it had the most damage done too it.

Carla could almost feel the ghost of Billy's fingers as she examined the marks he left on her.    Eyes set on her reflection, she pushed her hair away from her neck and allowed her fingers to gently brush over her bruises, making sure not to cause herself any sort of pain.

Giving a small frown, Carla brought an arm down to twist the tap below her, cupping her hands to create a bowl for the water to fall into.  It was cold against her skin, but for once, the Wheeler didn't mind.  She needed something to slightly wake her up from the hospital haze she was currently living in.

She took a few minutes to splash the water upon her face, rubbing the liquid all over her face in an attempt to feel more clean.  She then rubbed some over her bruises, trying to rid herself of Billy's lingering grasp—though it would never be fully gone.  Not with the markings, or the PTSD she now held.

Wiping off her now dampened skin, Carla looked out the door and back into her room, pursing her lips as she eyed up the pale, white phone sitting on her bedside table.   Though she didn't want to bug Steve if he was indeed just skipping......she really wanted to call.   The girl hadn't seen him since earlier the previous day, and he had no clue what had happened.  He deserved to know, and—though she didn't want to admit it—she also kinda wanted his company.

So, flipping the light switch back off,  Carla made her way over to where the phone sat, grabbing it and putting it up to her ear.  Steve's number was as easy as the alphabet to her at this point, so she punched in the digits with ease, waiting to hear the familiar voice of her boyfriend.

Except, his voice never came through.

She rang again, and once more......nothing.

"Okay, what the fuck?" Carla couldn't stop herself from exclaiming, because Steve always answered his phone.  There was no way he was still in his house.   So, with that, Carla instead punched in Scoops' number.

Yet again, she wasn't met with the voice of her boyfriend, but instead a pissed off guy—as her mother had been.  "Hello?"

"Hi, uh, I'm Carla.  Is Steve there? If so, may I please speak to—" she asked, trying to sound polite, though the man on the other end seemed to care less.

"You are the second person to ask this morning."  the man sighed, unhappily. "No, your boyfriend isn't here, honey." the voice replied in more of a sneer than a casual voice.

Carla raised a brow, "I never said he was my boyfriend—"

"You didn't have to."  the man replied, "But if you so happen to see Harrington or Buckley, ever so kindly ask them to get their asses here right now." He abruptly hung up the phone, and Carla blew out a breath.

"Okay...." Steve hadn't been lying when he said his boss was kinda douchey.  Her brain also hadn't been lying when it gave her the 'something's wrong' feeling.   Steve hadn't answered at home, and he wasn't at work and neither was Robin, which gave her an even bigger gut feeling in her chest that something was wrong.

If only she could leave the hospital and figure out what was truly happening.

mara's misc!

wonder why steve isn't picking up the phone.....

anyway, this is just a chapter full of filler.  it was originally gonna feature the actual monster attack but its already almost 3000 words, so i decided to split it up.   surprisingly, all my filler ended up filling up the whole chapter. 

i actually hate writing filler, but this worked out i think.  i loved writing karen's feelings on the whole hospital situation, because you know damn well she has legit ptsd about the hospital after the end of season one.  she def rushed in there expecting the worst.

also, i gave GHOST'S st character, rowan, a small cameo in this chapter.  i actually didn't mean for it to happen, but i decided to keep it in for fun.  go check out her fic, 'thunderstruck' to get to know rowan,  as well as the other books in the series, reaper and cruel summer (where you'll learn more about other characters!)

hope you enjoyed! see you back with chapter 12 <3