CARLA CONTACTED DUSTIN AS THEY LEFT THE LIBRARY TO FIND OUT THE OTHERS WERE AT HAWKINS HIGH. 

Why? Carla wasn't exactly sure. Dustin had said something about illegally breaking and entering into the school to steal files, but the Wheeler didn't question. Whatever they were doing was probably necessary.

"Do we know where they are?" Nancy said as the three girls got out of the car. She grabbed the spare flashlight she kept in the glove box. 

Carla recalls Dustin's brief words, none of which held where they were in the building.  His words were rather helpful, truly. "No, just that they were looking for files. Probably on Chrissy and Fred?"

"Great." Robin huffs, looking in the doors. The school was pitch black given it was a Sunday and night—she's sure Dustin, Lucas, Steve, and Max want to get caught breaking and entering a building. 

Carla heads for the doors and puts her hand on the handle. "We can split up. We'll find them faster that way." She holds up her walkie. "I'll update from Dustin's walkie if I find them."

"Okay." Nancy agrees. 

With a nod, the three girls split up, each heading in different directions. Carla moves cautiously through the dark hallways, her sister having taken the flashlight. She scans into classrooms looking for one of her friends. The silence is eerie, but what hadn't been eerie the past day?

Certainly not that man at the library. 

Despite it having happened hours ago, Carla can't shake the weird feeling she got from him. The way he had stared at her so intently.....it was fucking creepy. Yet, then again, maybe Carla just couldn't take a nice gesture after everything that had happened. Maybe he was trying to be friendly, and she made it seem weird. 

 With Vecna on the loose, everything seemed more tense than it was to Carla. 

But, Carla didn't even recognize the man. Many of the people who came to the library were the same recurring faces, and Hawkins wasn't a big town in general. The Wheeler knew many names and faces, yet she had no clue who the suited man was, nor had she ever seen him inside the library looking at books or in the basement archives. Never. 

The Wheeler shakes her head, trying to focus on finding her friends instead of the man. He was probably just a new guy in town. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tick. 

Carla suddenly hears it. 

A ticking sound starts to echo through the hallways—the sound of a clock, counting down. Her brows furrowed together, because there wasn't a clock so loud in Hawkins High. 

Carla stops walking as she listens intently, the rhythmic sound growing louder and more insistent. It feels like it's coming from inside her head, an oppressive beat that drowns out everything else.

Ignore it. Find your friends. 

She picks up her pace again, trying to tune out the ticking. Her brain was just playing tricks on her again. There wasn't  a clock ticking. She was sleep deprived. She needed more medicine, for sure—

Carla turns down a hallway and sees the clock.

It's a giant grandfather clock, stuck inside the walls. The painted bricks around the clock are cracked. 

What the fuck? 

However, Carla can't even begin to try and worry about the clock when she finally focuses in on the redhead standing in front of it. Max Mayfield.

The Wheeler runs down the hallway, stomach twisting as she comes closer to the Mayfield. The girl stands eerily still, body stiff. Her eyes are locked on the clock ahead, almost as if she were in a trance.

A trance. 

"No, no, no—" Carla remembers what they determined at Reefer Rick's—Chrissy had been in a trance before she was taken, just like Max seemed to be. The brunette runs in front of the clock, "Max? Hey—Max? Max, can you hear me? Max—Maxine?" 

She puts a hand on the girl's bright blue jacket and a rush of pain bombards her skull. 

Carla gasps at the sudden yet strong pain, stumbling backwards as the world around her blurs and distorts.

"You can't save her, Carla." 

The same voice that had been calling her name echoes through her head. The menacing growl of a voice. 

Images flash through her mind, just like they did in the nightmares. 

Max's body floating in the air. 

Her eyes glossed over and rolled back in her skull, blood trickling from the sockets. 

Carla's back hits the wall beside the clock, her mind overwhelmed with the different images crowding. 

A clock chiming 4 times. 

Max's limbs contorting at unnatural angles. 

Max's body tangled in vines, like Chrissy's. 

Carla can feel herself shaking her head against the images, not wanting to believe them.

"You can't even save yourself." 

The images change slightly, showcasing herself instead of the Mayfield. 

Her own figure standing eerily still, her eyes glossed over. 

Steve shaking her with urgency. 

Her meeting the same fate as Chrissy. Fred. Max. 

"You're weak, Carla." The voice taunts, relentlessly. It overpowers all the images and sounds crowding her mind. Bones cracking and chimes from a clock echo in her ears. "You can't do anything to save them. To save Max. To save yourself."

"Carla!" Max shrieks in utter pain, "Carla!"

Suddenly, all her friends' voices start to call out her name in broken and painful cries that pierce Carla through the heart. It's a cacophony of chaos that overwhelms the girl, the Wheeler's hands shakily moving over her ears to block out the sounds.

It's in your head. It's in your head. It's all in your head.

She can hear Dustin, Lucas, and Max; she hears Eleven and Mike; she hears Jonathan and Nancy; she hears Steve—

"Carla?" 

Carla let out a sharp gasp and flinched backwards, the hand on her shoulder wearily moving back. 

"Hey, it's just me." Steve's voice breaks through the fog of Carla's fear. She glances around, looking at her boyfriend who stood in front of her, hand wearily outstretched, unsure whether to touch her again. Behind him, the rest of the group stood, Max in the center with a gaunt expression. "Baby, it's me." 

Carla blinks. She tries to ground herself again, trying to tell herself that she was back. The scream of her friends and vision remnants still clung to her mind, but Steve's presence was an anchor pulling her back. "Steve...."

The Harrington tries to search his girlfriend's gaze, concern growing at the fear and confusion imminent in her eyes. Max had been in a trance mere moments before, and when they found Carla against the wall, eyes frozen on nothing, he couldn't help but grow worried.

What was happening? 

Max steps forward. Her flashlight is planted on the wall beside Carla, and when the Wheeler glances to the side, she realizes there is no clock. Not even a crack in the wall like there had been. It's just a wall. 

"What did you see, Carla?" Max makes eye contact with the brunette. After reading Chrissy and Fred's files, after seeing that goddamn clock, she knew. Why else would the Wheeler have been in some trance near the same wall the clock was at? 

Carla doesn't question how Max knows. She straightens, stating wearily, "I saw....I saw a clock. On the wall next to me." 

The group all looks at each other. Steve's brows furrow—that was exactly what Max told them, too.

"I saw it too, Carla. It was here." the Mayfield nods to the Wheeler, pointing her flashlight at the wall. "Right here." 

It brings Carla no reassurance that someone else saw that clock—it made her feel worse, truly.

Nancy's brows furrow. "A grandfather clock?"

"It was so real." Max's voice cracks, "And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just....I woke up."

Carla steps away from the wall, and Steve strays close. "I went looking for you guys and I heard chiming and then I turned the corner and it was there." She glances at the redhead. "I-I saw Max and then....." the Wheeler trails off, thinking of all the images she'd seen. ".....I woke up too." 

"It was like you both were in a trance, or something." Dustin states, recalling Chrissy's fate. "Exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy."

Max has a tear trailing down her cheek as she admits, "That's not even the bad part."

An ominous silence fills the hallway and the Mayfield steps forward, grabbing a hold of Carla's wrist. She paces down the hall and the Wheeler had no option but to follow, a sick feeling growing in her stomach. 

Max goes into Ms. Kelley's office, letting go of Carla's wrist to start sifting through two files, everyone crowding around the desk. The Wheeler tensely stands behind Max, arms wrapped around her figure as the sick feeling grows—Steve stands behind her, almost cautiously.

"Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help." Max begins once everyone is situated in front of her. She pushes out the files for the group to look at, Robin glancing over one. "Uh, they were both having headaches. Bad headaches that just wouldn't go away."

Carla feels her blood run cold. She thinks of the headaches she's been having daily. Migraines that never seemed to stop, no matter how much medicine she took.

"And then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They'd wake up in a cold sweat."

The Wheeler girl was prone to nightmares, but recently they've gotten worse. So bad, in fact, Carla usually found herself awake at awful times in the morning, knowing she'd struggle to fall back to sleep. Or not bothering to sleep at all so she didn't risk seeing things. 

"And then they started seeing things. Bad things. From their pasts." 

She hasn't seen anything from her past but she's seen a clock. And a weird creature.  She's had a voice talking to her. 

Fuck. 

"These visions, they just kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually....." Max's voice was shaky, and she concluded, "....everything ended." 

Carla felt her chest tighten and she shook her head without even realizing it. Every symptom that Max listed off correlated with something the Wheeler had been experiencing within the past month—it lined up exactly.

Robin looks up, "Vecna's curse."

Now, the Wheeler had been given a death sentence before—she'd chosen a death sentence. But, this one just felt more real. If she was flayed, they could try to save her, but nothing could save her if her eyes were gone and her bones were cracked. If she ended up like Chrissy and Fred. 

"Chrissy's headaches started a week ago, Fred's six days ago." Max lists, throat utterly dry as she recalls the headaches she'd started to receive not so long ago. There's a pool of silence before she admits, "I've been having them for five days." 

As if the Wheeler can't feel any fucking worse. 

She was going to die, but so was Max.

 Sarcastic, observant, feisty, empathetic, compassionate, fifteen year old Max. 

Carla could let herself go but Max didn't deserve that. Not when she had a life still yet to live that didn't involve monsters. She actually had a life worth living. 

The Wheeler stares at the Mayfield, still feeling sick to her stomach. She was dead. Max was dead. 

Dead. Dead. Dead. 

 Steve looks at his girlfriend, hand clasped over his mouth because he knew.

 He knew about the headaches, he knew about her nightmares, he'd caught her up at ungodly hours of the morning. He had seen all of this unfold but.....it couldn't be Vecna. Carla couldn't be cursed—not when the Upside Down had already given her enough hell as it was. Not when he thought he wouldn't have to risk losing her to that damn place ever again. 

Not when he thought he'd finally get the future he wanted with her. The future he finally had planned in his head. 

"I don't know how long I have. All I know is that for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision." No matter how hard Max tries to stay strong, her voice cracks and her eyes brim with tears because she was dying. "And I just saw that goddamn clock, so...." She glances around. "Looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow." 

Carla almost doesn't want to speak up. She can see the look on everyone's faces—the shock and fear, the sick and distraught. She doesn't want to make them feel worse by saying she was dying, too, and everyone was probably sick of Carla saying she was in trouble. Sick of her being the problem because how many times did they have to protect the same girl? 

She could just leave it at Max being hurt. Let them focus on her—the one who deserved to live.

Yet, she forces herself too. She couldn't just die again like she did last year; she couldn't do that to her family, to Steve. 

"I've been having headaches for a few weeks now. Really fucking bad ones." Carla quietly pipes up, crossing her arms around her figure. She only dares to look at Max—she can't stand to meet Steve's gaze after lying to him over all of this shit. "I always have nightmares, but recently they've been so bad I haven't been able to sleep after. Or...or I just don't sleep at all. I mean I just saw Chrissy die in one." 

Nancy shakes her head as if she doesn't want to believe it. "Carla..." 

"I'm connected to that fucking place, stop acting like this is surprising." Carla scoffs, trying to hide the shake in her voice. "I mean, I just saw that fucking clock. And I keep hearing this voice call my name." She swallows. "Looks like I'm dying soon, too."

Max looks at Carla, eyes still watery. The Wheeler tries her best to stay strong for the younger girls sake. They were both marked by this thing, but the Mayfield needed to be saved and Carla couldn't help her if she was too busy worrying about herself.

The silence in the room is utterly thick with tension. No one knows what to say. No one could even try to reassure other teens that 'They'd find a way!' or 'You won't die, we won't let it happen!'  because, truly, they weren't even sure they could promise anything about the situation. 

The Wheeler doesn't know if she can look at Max's fear filled eyes and the rest of the groups concerned and gaunt features any longer and brushes right past Steve into the hallway of the school. 

"Carla—" Steve whips around to grab her arm but she manages to walk past him before he can, eager to get out of the room.

She paces down the hall, footsteps echoing through the empty halls of Hawkins High. She just needs a moment to breathe.

"Carla, come on!" Steve's voice rang out behind her, slightly angry and desperate.

 The Wheeler girl tried to ignore him, still pacing. "Steve, I'm fine—"

"You don't get to tell me that anymore." the Harrington is quick to catch up with his girlfriend, grabbing a hold of her arm to halt her.

The Wheeler turns around and she meets Steve's gaze with a guilty expression.

 "You could have told me about the fucking headaches, Carla!" Steve exclaims, his voice is rougher than he expects but he's angry. 

Carla doesn't remember the last time she heard Steve angry. They never truly fought, not since they broke up originally. Any tiffs were usually solved in a few minutes, and the two knew each other and what set them off not to do it. They'd gone through enough to get angry over a small problem. 

But she knew he was upset with her now. And she knows she deserves it because who lied about how they felt to their boyfriends? After everything she's been through with Steve, there was no reason for her to say she was fine when he asked. She should have told him 'No, Steve, I've felt shitty all day!' each time. 

"I did. I told you about the headaches and the nightmares." Carla replies weakly. Originally, she had told Steve about her headaches and nightmares but who would have expected they would have turned out to be this? "But I stopped because I didn't want to worry you—"

"But you stopped." Steve reasons, letting go of her arm and putting two fingers against the bridge of his nose. He knew Carla—she always disregarded her own feelings for the sake of not sounding needy, or weak; focused on others so no one focused on her. Bottled everything up. "You've been dealing with this alone. For weeks."

"I was handling it. I was...I was fine. I am fine." the Wheeler reasons, looking everywhere but at him. "I didn't want to worry you over something that at the time was nothing. I didn't want to tell you because you'd get concerned—"

Steve tries his best to lower his voice. "Carla, I'm so sick of you not telling me things. We're past that—"

"And I'm sick of being the person you all fucking get concerned over! Risk your life over!" Carla exclaims, looking at her boyfriend with an exasperated expression. "I mean last year, everyone put themselves into danger so I stayed alive, so it didn't get me." And now it was.  "I'm so sick of being that person."

Steve holds his tongue for a moment, features softening.

Frustration boiling over, Carla finishes, "I'm sick of being a burden to everyone here. To you."

"Hey, no. No." Steve's anger softened, and he stepped forward, outstretching his hands to cup her face. Carla looks away but the Harrington boy holds her face so she's forced to meets his gaze. "You're not a burden. Not to me." 

Carla wants to argue but she doesn't. 

"I love you, Carla. I know that this shit always comes for you, and I love you anyways." the Harrington boy voices. "We're gonna fight these things together. I'm not going to let this Vecna creep get to you. Or Max. None of us will." 

Carla doesn't think she deserves how much Steve cares about her, but she knows nothing will change what he has to say.

Before the couple can say anything else to each other, there's an abrupt clang—almost horror movie like with how abrupt it was. Carla's figure tenses and Steve drops his hands from her face, cautiously whipping around.

Steve glances at the classroom beside them and quickly walks in, grabbing the lamp from beside the door and yanking the cord from its socket.

 As he pulls the item into the hallway, he glances at Carla. "Go back with the others."

Carla rolls her eyes. Go back with the others, her ass.

Steve begins to tread forward, feet silently as he holds the light. His hands grasp the neck, ready to swing if necessary. He looks back at his girlfriend, who's started to follow in his steps with a displeased expression. "At least stay behind me?" 

Carla does as he asks and strays behind him, cautiously following in her boyfriends steps. Nancy, Dustin, Robin, and Max emerge from down the hall, flashlights outstretched—they too had heard the noise and were confused, as well as slightly alarmed. 

The group starts to walk slowly down the hallway, following the Harrington in a tense silence. Another bang echoes through the empty school and Steve's grip on the lamp only tightens. Carla clenches her fists together, growing more on edge.

Seconds feel like eternity as the group awaits whatever was creating those sounds. Something that sounds like footsteps against tile rings through the school next and Steve halts in his steps, raising the lamp in his hands to strike whatever was coming. 

A figure comes bounding around the corner at full speed before Carla can even blink.

The group screams in unison, the figure who'd popped out screaming right back at them. Dustin shines his flashlight into the figure's face as he screams—as if that was going to scare him—, Max, Nancy, and Robin all flinching backwards at the jump scare.

Through her jumbled nerves, Carla manages to recognize the scream of the person who was standing across from them and she immediately jumps to grab ahold of the lamp in Steve's hands before he swings it. 

"It's me!" Lucas Sinclair's voice rings out as he retracts backwards, trying not to get hit by Steve's lamp. His hands are outstretched to block the light Dustin is shining in his face, as well as to keep the Harrington from attacking. 

The group's shoulders fall in relief, chests un-clenching as they catch their breaths. Carla let's go of the lamp, letting out a sigh.

Nancy steps forward, exclaiming, "Lucas?!" 

"Jesus!" Steve huffs, irritated. 

Lucas heaves again, "It's me."

"Jesus, what's wrong with you, Sinclair?!" 

"I'm sorry." Lucas continues in a pant, seemingly out of breath. 

Steve shakes the lamp in his hands for emphasis, showcasing the way he almost knocked the boy unconscious. "I could've taken you out with this lamp!"

"Sorry guys. Sorry." the Sinclair apologizes, holding up a hand. "I was....I was biking for eight miles." The group waits for him to explain himself, but in return, he grunts and holds up a finger to show that he needed a minute to catch his breath. "Give me a second. Shit."

Carla furrows her brows. "Why did you bike 8 miles?"

"We've got a code red." 

"What?" Steve questions.

Lucas ignores Steve's confusion and brushes past him, bee-lining for the Henderson instead. "Dustin, I've been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they've gone, like, totally off the rails. They're trying to capture Eddie and they think you know where he is. You're in terrible danger!" 

Carla thinks about the three basketball players. Jason was Chrissy's boyfriend, and she could tell that by Lucas' words, he wasn't taking her death well. Given he was as closed minded as the rest of the town, to him, it was clear Eddie murdered her, and he was more than likely going to find the Munson to do something to the boy—the team followed Jason around like lost puppies, and it wouldn't take much convincing to get them to tag along. 

If they thought Dustin knew Eddie's location, they certainly weren't going to ask nicely. 

"Alright, yeah. That....that definitely sucks." Dustin replies, taking in the information. He wasn't in a great position, nor was Eddie, but after what they just found out about Max and Carla it wasn't as big of a deal. "But we've got bigger problems than Jason right now." 

Dustin looks back at Max, Lucas following suit . The redhead folds underneath her ex-boyfriend's gaze and avoids meeting it. 

Carla looks down at her shoes, preparing herself to help update Lucas on the entire situation. Preparing herself to ruin his entire week. 

Nancy suggests they all spend the night at the Wheeler household and no one seems to disagree with the idea.

Karen Wheeler loved having people over—she always encouraged Nancy to invite her girlfriends on the weekends, or for Jonathan and come over to their place instead of Carla going to the Byers. She didn't mind the constant D&D campaigns or boys running up and down her basement stairs; unlike her husband. She didn't mind Steve staying the night from time to time, though now, Carla stayed at his place more than she ever did home. 

So, when her two daughters showed up back at home with five friends behind them, Karen opened her doors under the request that they made sure their parents all knew they were here—to which they did, Robin, Max, Dustin, and Lucas taking turns on the phone, smiling at the Wheeler mother to reassure her it was fine. 

Everyone stayed in the basement. Despite having her own room to which she could haul Steve into, Carla felt safer downstairs. She felt weird leaving Max alone, even if she wouldn't be able to do shit if Vecna attacked anyways. Nancy seemed to feel the same way. 

Lucas gets caught up on the entire situation, taking it grimly. He stares at Max the entire and she doesn't look back at him. 

Despite all the fun times that had happened in the Wheeler basement, no one was in the mood to do anything and ended up calling it a night early. Everyone gets as comfortable as they can, Nancy hauling out sleeping bags for Lucas and Dustin—who'd offer to do so, used to spending the night in the basement like this. 

Max ended up in the rocking chair, turned away from the group. Nancy leaned up on one side of the couch while Carla and Steve sat on the other end, curling close to one another. Eyes close and the only sound becomes even breathing, but it's a sleepless night for everyone—Carla specifically.

Just like the previous night, the Wheeler doesn't dare close her eyes—she knows she should try to get a good rest because who knows what the next few days would look like, but she can't. Not when shutting her eyes risked her slipping into another nightmare, a nightmare where she could see someone else die; where she'd hear Chrissy's screams and cries for help, her lifeless body. Where she'd hear Vecna taunting her about Max's impending and cursed fate. About her own...

Max.

Carla felt guilt gnaw at her just thinking about the Mayfield. In the dark, she glances over at the redhead whose eyes are closed, seemingly asleep. 

She was only fifteen, starting her freshman year of high school, starting a real life after being dragged into everything when she moved to Hawkins. She hadn't even lived and she was being sentenced to death. A cruel death, at that.

  Carla felt horrible about it because Max was still a kid. She didn't deserve any of this. 

Yet, Carla also felt horrible because somewhere inside of her she felt like it was all her fault. She feels like Max should resent her. If the Demogorgan had gotten her wrists a little better back in '83, maybe the Mayfield wouldn't be in this position now. Or at least she wouldn't be suffering as hard. Wouldn't be counting down the minutes until she was gone because she knew it was happening. 

At least if Carla died she wouldn't be feeling so fucking guilty about this whole situation. 

Stop thinking that way, Carla tried to tell herself, It's not your fault Chrissy died. It's not your fault Max is cursed, too. You didn't ask to be marked by the Demogorgan. You didn't ask to be in this position either.

But even as Carla tried to rewire her thoughts, the words of reassurance felt hollow, like a weak attempt to convince herself of something she couldn't truly believe. The guilt was too deeply rooted, too intertwined with everything that had happened. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was to blame, that her mere presence had brought this curse upon Max and the others.

Steve told her she wasn't a burden, but he was her boyfriend. He was supposed to tell her shit like that and make her feel better. Didn't make anything he said true—hell,  it was easy for him to say it. He wasn't the one who felt guilty about everything, who'd watched Chrissy die in a nightmare and didn't do anything about it. He wasn't plagued with a death sentence that almost felt right. 

Carla feels her emotions building up and quickly stands up from the couch, the weight of her thoughts too suffocating. She tries her best not to wake Steve up, as well as Dustin and Lucas as she paces over their sleeping figures into the laundry room in the corner of the basement, lip trembling.

Shutting the door behind her, Carla lets out a light sob and sinks down against the washing machine. She feels sick to her stomach, guilty, and empty about the whole situation. She was dying. Max was dying and she couldn't save her. 

Carla didn't show her emotions a lot—certainly not like this. She didn't cry or scream or punch things. She bottled thoughts and feelings until they suffocated her; suffered in silence instead of spilling to others. 

But right now she couldn't help it. The weight on her shoulders feels too heavy. 

Carla quietly sobs, knees pulled to her chest, hoping she doesn't wake anyone who was trying to sleep behind the door. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above her, casting a harsh, unfeeling light on her trembling form. 

She wasn't sure how long she was crying, but at some point the door creaked open. Carla barely registered in her mind, but she knew who came in.  

"Carla?" Steve says as he crouches down in front of her, shutting the door behind him. The Wheeler looks up at her boyfriend with her tear-stained cheeks, immediately causing the boy's expression to further morph into concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Steve." The Wheeler states, voice broken. The Harrington rests his hands atop of hers—they feel warm compared to how cold Carla feels inside. "I'm so fucking sick of it." 

"Come here, baby." Steve moves his hands, pulling the girl into him. The Wheeler let out another sob and collapsed into his chest, allowing the boy to hold her there. Through her cries, the Harrington tries to whisper a weak reassurance. "Just breathe. It's okay—"

"Nothing about this is okay!" Carla snaps, struggling to find firmness in her voice. "Max is going to die and she hasn't even lived yet. And—and I feel so fucking guilty about it, it hurts. " She sniffles. "I feel like all of this is my fault somehow." 

Steve hurts at how raw her words are. "No, no, baby, this isn't your fault—"

"I was supposed to die last year. I was dead. And—and by bringing me back I feel like it fucked everything up." Carla admits, voice still broken. "Maybe.....maybe if I was still dead Max wouldn't be in this position. Chrissy wouldn't be gone—"

"Don't say that." Steve pulls away, tightly holding her face in his hands. He hurts at her words. "Carla, please, don't—"

Carla continues, "Who's to say he isn't back just for me? Everyone would be better off if I was dead." 

Steve shook his head. God, how could she say that? How could she believe that they'd all be better off without her, that she should be dead?

"No, Carla. Don't say that." the Harrington searches her brown eyes, wanting to get through to her.  "None of this is your fault. Not Vecna, not Chrissy, not Max." He can see that Carla wants to argue but he doesn't let her. "Eleven was able to bring you back for a reason. You're supposed to be here." 

Carla breathes, "You don't know that."

"But I know that I need you. If you stayed dead.....I don't know where I would be." Steve admits, thinking back to how scared he was holding the Wheeler's lifeless body. "I want to marry you. I want to have a family—I want you here. I need you here, Carla."

Carla wants to believe him. She really does. 

"I know this is all a lot, but you can't let this get to you. You....you can't think things like that because they aren't true. At all." 

The Wheeler doesn't fight it anymore. 

"No one here thinks this is your fault, okay? No one." Steve continues, hoping his words were sinking in. "I love you and I need you to stay strong. We're gonna get through this together. Max isn't dying, and neither are you." 

Carla knows he can't promise that, but she doesn't open her mouth. She just holds on to him.

The couple stays like that for a while. 

mara's misc!

ummmm sorry!!!!

so yes! carla is OF COURSE cursed. it would be silly if she wasn't because she is the queen of trauma.

i do hate stealing the spotlight from max. this is HER season and was very emotional for her, as well as growthful in a way. however, this is carla's story and i can't NOT have her get cursed given her entire plot line is built on her connection to vecna/the upside down. however, i'm also not a huge fan of when steve writers (or any, really) totally disregard max this season and just put EVERYTHING onto their oc???? it's low-key hypocritical of me to say that but..

so, yes, both of them will be cursed. carla will more so just be taunted around by vecna, while max will go through what she normally does. i want my girl carla to go through it without just leaving max hanging because this was her season. 

ALSO both of them getting cursed adds to carla's growth. she'll do anything to make sure she dies and max stays. 

that's just my opinion *shrugs*

anywho, i saw conan gray this weekend! it was such a great experience and he's just amazing live. vocals ate and i got to sing my little heart out to all my fav songs (sounded like a dying animal it was pathetic). him messing up and saying "michigan heights" on his insta story (which isn't a real place btw!) now i'm deprived of concerts so kelsea ballerini release tour dates now challenge go!!!!!

also if my grandpa gets his netflix account hacked ONE more time i'm going to tweak!!!!

hope you enjoyed <3 see you back with chapter 9!