CARLA SAT UTTERLY SILENT.

The previous night was a blur in her head. She remembers everything she saw, but not much after that. Somehow, she was coaxed up the rope, gently led out of the house and across the street to Max's trailer, plenty of hands on her waist and plenty of mouths coaxing and reassuring her. 

Her arm was wrapped, the bleeding stopped with careful hands. Someone had cleaned her face, wiping away the blood and tears that had dried on her skin. She didn't remember who—it could've been Nancy, maybe Robin.

There had been murmurs of conversation, soft voices that buzzed around her like distant static. Words had been spoken directly to her—soft words meant to ground her, reassurances—but she wasn't in the moment enough to grasp their meaning.

By the time they reached Max's trailer, the sun was just beginning to rise, painting the horizon in muted shades of pink and orange. No one had slept—it seemed pointless, even foolish, after what had happened, as good as it would do them. The air inside the trailer was thick with grime and sweat, the remnants of the Upside Down still clinging to their clothes and skin.

Despite the morning coming to view, there was no breakfast or coffee made. It felt wrong to have a normal moment when Carla sat right in front of the group, silently stuck in her own traumas. 

At some point,  had put her Walkman in Carla's lap, murmuring something about how she needed it more. The Wheeler didn't put it on, instead letting it rest in her lamp. Her fingers occasionally twitch against it.

The rest of the group just sat and stared, waiting. No one pushed her to say anything, but they all wanted to know what Vecna had showed her. Why she was still alive, and not like Chrissy. Why Vecna had let the one person he wanted go. 

Carla knew the group wanted to know what happened. They're all sitting staring at her—it's not hard to tell. And, as much as the Wheeler would rather just sulk in silence, she knows she needs to tell them. 

The Wheeler doesn't know why she's alive, but Vecna hadn't just shown her what she'd seen to scare her. He told her to tell them to Eleven. He was planning on having everything that Carla had seen happen, and she needed to tell her friends if that was the case.  

Carla let out a shaky breath and finally looked up at the group. "Uh..."

"You don't have to say anything if you're not ready." Nancy quietly speaks up, meeting gazes with her sister. With her eyes, she almost adds, 'No one expects you to be ready'. 

"No, I....I'm ready." Carla's stayed quiet for too long, and she knows she owes her friends some kind of explanation, even if she didn't quite understand what happened herself. "He showed me things that haven't happened yet. Bad things. I saw Hawkins in pieces, and there was a dark cloud over us all. Fires. Dead soldiers, people, kids. Buildings were destroyed—everything was destroyed. All the monsters we've fought were infesting the town, but they weren't alone because there were creatures that we've never even seen with them. Monsters even worse than what we've seen. An army."

As the Wheeler speaks, her voice hoarse yet utterly serious, the group all sit in a tense silence. No one dares to makes a sound, intently listening to the horrors Vecna had projected onto her.

"There was so much darkness in Hawkins. The monsters...they were coming into our neighborhoods, our homes. And then.....he—he showed me my mom." Carla feels her lip tremble as Vecna's projections of her dead friends and family start to come to mind. "And Holly. Mike. Nancy. Eleven—all of you guys. You were all...."

She doesn't finish her sentence. She doesn't have too. 

 Carla shakily exhales, the rest of the group bowing their heads and frowning as they took in the information. According to Vecna, they were all dead. 

Steve looked at his girlfriend from where he sat across from her. He never doubted Carla, and certainly not when it was about the Upside Down. But he can't help but feel the silly hope that maybe Vecna had just shown her all that to scare her. 

"He's just trying to scare you, Carla." the Harrington murmurs, first to speak in what felt like forever. "Right? I mean, that's what these visions are supposed to do—they're not real."

"This was different." Carla shakes her head. Seeing Billy was a vision, but what Vecna showed her? Carla knows that it wasn't just some made-up shit to scare her. "Nobody has survived Vecna except for Max, and she only did that because she had music. I didn't have a song and I came back. I was supposed to die." 

"Carla—"

"Don't act like we don't know it." the Wheeler snaps, slightly agitated with people trying to tell her that Vecna wasn't supposed to claim her. He's told her himself that it's been her purpose since she got her scars. "I was supposed to die, and Vecna would never let me go with my connection if he didn't have a reason. Before he showed me those....things, he told me to tell Eleven. He wants her to know. He wanted me to know." She shakily breathes out. "Everything he showed me is going to happen. I know it." 

Steve stays quiet.

"But that's not the only thing he showed me." Carla adds quietly, fingers clenching against the Walkman as she thinks back to Henry Creel. The boy they thought to be an innocent victim, revealed to be the mastermind behind everything. "He showed me his past."

"His... past?" Lucas inquired cautiously, his brow furrowing.

Carla nodded, her gaze flicking down to the Walkman again, as if grounding herself in the solid weight of it. "There's a reason Vecna is in the Creel house.  It's because it's his home. Was his home."

The group exchanged uneasy glances. 

"What are you saying?" Nancy pressed, her voice tight.

Robin frowned, trying to piece it together. "Victor Creel is Vecna?"

"No." Carla said, shaking her head. Her voice grew firmer, steadier, as if saying it aloud made it more real. "But Henry Creel is."

The room went silent, the revelation hanging in the air tensely. They had the whole story wrong. 

"He killed them." Carla whispered, her voice cracking. "Victor Creel didn't murder his family. It was Henry. He had powers, like El. He thought his parents were bad people and he... he used them to kill his mother and sister. He passed out from over-using his power, and Victor was framed."

Eddie thinks to what was happening to himself. "Seems like he never dropped that act." 

"Dr. Brenner found him. The same man who kept El in the lab." Carla explained, her voice heavy. "He made Henry the first test subject—One. The others, like El—they were all created in his image. The lab was made to find kids just like Henry."

The silence has never been louder. 

"There were also gates. Four of them. One in Eddie's trailer, one on a road, Lovers Lake, and one in on some wood floor—they all came together and spread through Hawkins. Tore it right through the center." Carla reveals, wiping under her eyes for any tears. "They looked like the one in Eddie's trailer, but bigger. And they didn't stop growing. Just tore apart Hawkins. Our Hawkins." 

Silence. Not only was what Carla telling them bad, but it wasn't a monster—they didn't know how to stop this. 

"Four chimes." Max speaks up, causing the teens to all look at her. She's leaning against the wall, arms crossed—guarded, as always.  "Vecna's clock. It always chimes four times. Four, exactly."  

Carla agrees in a weak murmur, "She's right."

With a slight roll of her eyes, the Mayfield adds, "He's been telling us his plan this whole time." 

"Four kills. Four gates." Lucas catches on, glancing between the two targets of Vecna, "End of the world."

"If that's true...." Dustin trails off, looking at the group as if he's afraid to reveal the obvious truth lingering over them. "....he's only one kill away." 

That doesn't sit right on any of the teens' chests. 

Carla thinks about the vine-wrapped pillars she'd seen in the Upside Down. There had been four, one left untouched, waiting. She locks eyes with Max, who holds the same knowing expression. 

One of them was next. 

"Oh, Jesus Christ." Eddie's face falls into his hands with his groan. He regrets not letting the police find him because at least then, he wouldn't know about this Vecna shit. "Jesus Christ." 

 "Try 'em again." Instead of growing panicked at the idea of his girlfriend dying again, Steve resorts to becoming snappy. They had to try and stop this, right? They couldn't settle for nothing. He looks at Max and urges her towards the phone. "Try 'em again." 

Earlier, when they'd gotten back, the group had decided it would be best if they tried to contact the Byers and warn them about what was happening. It would be wrong if they didn't, as much as the family deserved a life without being plagued by the Upside Down.

However, no member or the family or Mike picked up the phone the several times they had tried dialing—the line was busy each time.

Max does as Steve asks and paces for the phone, picking it up and dialing the Byers' home  number. Everyone sits in silence as it rings for a few moments, but the sudden beep that signals a busy line has them all frowning again.

"Anything?" Dustin asks as the redhead hangs the phone up.

"No." Max answers, returning to her friends. "Rang a few times then went to busy signal."

"Maybe you punched it in wrong." Steve suggests, "Try again."

"I didn't punch it in wrong."

"Well, I don't know."

Dustin deadpans, "I think she knows how to use a phone."

"I'm just saying she could've typed it in wrong." Steve argues.

Max lets out a sharp exhale before pacing right back over to the phone, sending the Harrington a 'happy now?' expression. She jams the numbers back into the phone and holds it to her ear again, slamming it right back into its holder when she's met with the same busy line beeping. 

She reveals, "Same shit." 

Lucas puts his hands on his hips. "How is that possible?"

"I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job." Dustin repeats what he had told the group when they originally started to spam call the Byers' home. "She's always on the phone. Mike won't stop whining about it." 

"They always call back." Carla speaks up, if she knows Will or Eleven, it's that they always call back right after Joyce is on the phone and apologize for their mom using it overtime. Neither teen had done that, nor has Mike called to check in with his family. "And, not like I've been home to get one, but I haven't gotten a letter back from El and she writes to me weekly. Nor have I gotten shit from Will, and it was his birthday."

"The phone's been busy for three days now." Max reveals, knowing. This wasn't Joyce working overtime—something had happened. "This isn't Joyce. No way. Something's wrong."

"She's right." Nancy nods from where she's sitting on the couch with Eddie and Steve, "It can't be just coincidence. It can't be."

Carla agrees with her sister, "It never is."

"Whatever's happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I'm sure of it." The Wheeler gets out of her seat and moves towards the window of the trailer, looking out of it. "But Vecna can't hurt them. Not if he's dead." She turns to face her friends, determined. "We have to go back there. Back to the Upside Down."

The others didn't seem to share the same thought process.

"Whoa—no, no, no." Steve is quick to start shaking his head. He's not putting Carla back down there, not if he can help it. "What?" 

"Nope." Eddie vetoed. Catch him dead back in that hell-hole. "Nope." 

Steve gets on his feet and moves towards the Wheeler.  "Let's think this through, okay—"

Nancy whips around, countering. "What is there to think through?!"

"We barely made it out of there—she barely made it out of there!" Steve jabs a firm finger in the direction of Carla, who still sits in the chair. He can't believe she's so willing to go back down there after her twin just about died from being down there. 

Carla sighs at the name-drop. She always hated when she was brought up as a point in arguments. 

"Yeah, because we weren't prepared!" Nancy yells back. 

"Did you like what you saw last night?" Steve retorts, and by the way Nancy's face slightly falters, Carla knows that it's about her. The Harrington nods at his ex's now crestfallen expression. "Yeah. I'm not risking that happening again. For anyone." 

Carla doesn't want to go back into the Upside Down. Ever. With the wound on her shoulder clearly getting worse while she's down there, and having had a near death scare with Vecna whilst in his world, the Wheeler knew it'd be stupid if she did.

But, Nancy had a point. If they ambushed his home base, to which they were familiar with to a point and had solid access too, they could end Vecna and his tortures for good. Keep him from attacking more teens, from reaching the Byers and Eleven.

And that is the one thing Carla wants. 

"She's right."

At the sudden statement, both Steve and Nancy quit arguing and turn to look at the sitting girl. 

The Harrington's brows furrow, "What?"

"Nancy is right." Carla shrugs, as if she isn't making her boyfriend more appalled by the second with her words. "I don't want to go down there, but it's our only choice if we want to stop Vecna.  Stop everything I saw from happening. We can't fight him from up here—you know that, Steve."

Steve stared at Carla in disbelief, before immediately shutting her down with a deathly serious glare. "You're not going back down there. End of fuckin' discussion."

Carla's jaw tightened as Steve's glare bore into her. She understood where he was coming from—she really did—but this wasn't something she could just ignore. Not after what she'd seen. Not after what Vecna had shown her.

Stubbornly, Carla replies, "Well, you don't get to make that call for me." 

"Like hell I don't!" Steve snapped, his frustration bleeding through his tone. "Do you think I want to see you seizing on the floor, bleeding, the way I did last night? Do you think I want to risk him getting to you again and not letting go this time?" He spares a glance at Max, knowing if he mentioned her, Carla would falter. "What about Max? She goes down there, and she's in danger, too. You want to risk that?" 

Carla tries not to show the slip in her expression at the mention of the Mayfield. "Both of us are at risk in the Upside Down or not. Regardless of our location, Vecna needs one more kill and it's going to be one of us." The Wheeler gets onto her feet. "If today is it for me, I'm not just going to sit here and wait for Vecna to pick us off one by one. If we don't do something now, we're done. All of us."

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Nancy cut in sharply. "She's right."

The Harrington turned his glare to her, his patience clearly thinning. "Great. I'm so glad you're both on board with this suicidal plan."

"It's not suicidal." Nancy shot back. "It's strategic. We'll be prepared—we'll get weapons and protection. We'll go through the gate, we'll find his lair, and we'll kill him."

"Or he'll kill us." Steve retorts, "The only reason Carla survived was because he wanted her to. He's not scared of us." 

Robin suddenly gets on her feet. "And for good reason. We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One—Sorry, what are we calling him now?" 

"One."

"Vecna."

"One."

"Henry."

Robin blinks—not helpful. "Right. We've learned something new about Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One. He's a number, like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my—my point is, he's super powerful. He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It's not a fair fight." 

"So, then why fight fair?" Dustin counters, "You're right. He's like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven's strengths and weaknesses."

Erica looks weary. "Weaknesses?"

"When El remote-travels, she goes into this sorta trance-like state." the Henderson explains to the younger Sinclair, who knew the least about El compared to the others, Eddie excluded. "I bet the same is true for Vecna."

Lucas points a finger, "That would explain what he was doing in that attic."

"He killed Patrick when we were up there." Carla nods, recalling the prior day. "The lights were like that because he was locked in that trance, killing him."

"Exactly." Dustin agrees, glad to see some people were on the same page as him. "When he attacks his next victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenseless."

Steve still stays in denial that going into the Upside Down after Vecna has any positive benefit, "Defenseless, yeah?" He gestures to the red marks and bruising around his neck from where the bats bit him. "What about the army of bats? You don't even want to see what those things did to Carla." 

"True," Uncharacteristically, Dustin does not argue back. "We'll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow."

Eddie starts to stand up, "And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?"

"No idea," Dustin chippers, causing the Munson to sit right back down. "But once they're gone, he doesn't stand a chance. It'll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin."

"That all sounds good in theory, but there's no pattern to Vecna's killings. I mean—at least not one that I can decipher." Robin reminds the group, "We don't know when he's going to attack next—we don't even know who he's going to attack."

"Yeah, we do." Max says. She knows it's her. Wants it to be her over Carla, really. "I can still feel him. I'm still marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me."

"Max," Lucas breathes, "You can't. He'll kill you."

"I survived before. I can survive again."

"No. It has to be me." Carla shakes her head, watching as all eyes move to her. "Max, you've only been cursed for a little while. Honestly, I think I've been cursed since '83. Vecna has wanted me since the moment I got these scars and escaped him there." She points to the Walkman, "I don't even have a favorite song. There's nothing to pull me back. Nothing stopping him. With you there is. I'm more valuable to him than you'll ever be. He'll go for me if I give him the chance."

"That's exactly why it can't be you, Carla." Steve argues, though he refrains from raising his voice. He's sick of doing that with Carla the way he's had to the last week. "We have a way to pull Max out. We don't for you." 

"I can fight him." Carla knows she wants to live. She knows what she wants to live for. She'll fight for it. "All I would have to do is keep him busy until you all get into the attic. I can handle him again."

Mentally, Carla doesn't really know if she can, but she knows she's strong. She'll do it to protect Max. 

"We go together." Max finalizes, locking eyes with the other target of Vecna. "One of us is dead, anyway. Hell, maybe even two of us would buy you more time. You all would just have to make quick work of chopping his head off, stabbing him in the heart, blowing him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up—I honestly...I really don't care care how you put this asshole in his grave, just..." the Mayfield goes quiet. As strong as she was trying to be, she was more scared than she was letting on. "....whatever it is, whatever you do....try not to miss."  

It's silent again, for a moment. 

"Okay, well, regardless of who's putting themselves up for taking—" Eddie gets out of his seat, grabbing the newspaper that's sitting on the table in front of him and moving towards shelves within the room. "We're gonna need weapons. And, I mean, real, hardcore shit. Not the revolver in your room." 

Nancy narrows her eyes. "Funny."

"Where are we supposed to find hardcore, 'killing the monster-of-all-monsters' shit in Hawkins?" Robin ponders, looking at the Munson with furrowed brows.

"Lucky you for all, I know where we can get some." Eddie grabs a hold of a giant phone book, bringing it over to the table a few feet away and slamming it down. As he flips through pages, the rest of the teens crowd around him to see what he has to show. "Check this out—The War-Zone." 

Carla looks to see Eddie's finger resting on a clipping of a mullet-headed man holding a large rifle with the American flag behind him. 

"I've been there once. It's huge." Eddie reveals to the group, who seem to have no clue what the place is. "They got everything you need for, uh.....well, killing things, basically."

Robin puts her hands on her hips. "You think fake Rambo has enough guns there? Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?"

"Well, lucky for us it is, so..." Eddie smiles sarcastically, "This...this place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we stay clear of the main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks."

Erica narrows her eyes, "If we're trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn't go to some store called The War Zone." 

Dustin points a finger at her fair point and Nancy offers a curt nod before stating, "Normally, I'd agree, but we need the weapons so I think it's worth the risk."

Lucas nods, "Me too."

"Yeah, but is it worth the time?" Dustin rhetorically questions, "It'll take all day to bike there and back."

Eddie looks at the Henderson. "Who said anything about bikes?"

"What, you got some car we don't know about?" Steve looks at the Munson, confused on what he'd meant by the statement. At the moment, bikes were their only option.....right? 

"It's not exactly a car, Steve." the Munson gets closer to the Harrington, tilting his head to the side. "And it's not exactly mine, but, uh....it'll do." A shit eating grin crosses his face before he looks at Max, "Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandanna, something like that?" 

Max is quiet for a second, unsure if she has anything before going off to her room. A few moments later, she came back with a Micheal Myers Halloween mask in her hands, offering it to Eddie with a small smile. 

With no complaints, the Munson puts on the mask and walks right out of the trailer. The rest of the group grabs their little belongings and follows after him, looking in every direction to make sure no one was watching them, let alone recognizing them, or more specifically, Eddie and his Hellfire shirt.

Making hand signs, Eddie starts leading them through the trailer park, the group running through as stealthily as possible. He leads them right to a trailer that has two people sitting in front of it watching television, neither seeming to notice as the group of nine run right behind their trailer. 

Ring clad fingers slide open the side window and Eddie throws his bag inside before hauling himself into the small opening. Steve is next, making quick work to haul himself in after the Munson, staying by the window to help the other, "Go! Come on!"

Carla seethes as she uses her bad arm to push herself up, but her boyfriend is there to help her, reaching through the window to make sure she wasn't putting too much pressure on the arm. The Wheeler falls in right next to Steve, quickly getting back on her feet and hastily moving towards where Eddie was now fiddling with wires.

The boy sits in the drivers seat, a set of pliers in his mouth as he yanked at the wires. 

"What are we doing here, exactly?" Carla asks, peering over the Munson.

"Attempting to hot-wire her." Eddie replies, not glancing up from his work. "I'd teach you how, while I'm at it, but something tells me your boyfriend back there would not be a huge fan." 

As if summoned by the Munson, Steve makes it to his girlfriends side in a few moments, having helped the rest of the group into the trailer. His eyes narrow as he leans over Carla's shoulder, watching as Eddie cut the wires.

"Where'd you learn how to do this?" Steve wasn't sure he was seeing himself right—Eddie Munson doing something useful? And correctly? 

"Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire." Eddie replied casually, twisting the now frayed ends of the wires. "Now, I swore to myself I wouldn't wind up like he did, but now I'm wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I'm really living up to that Munson name." 

Robin suddenly runs forward, perching herself atop of Steve so she can speak with the Munson, "Uh, Eddie, I'm not sure I love the idea of you driving."

"Oh, I'm just starting this sucker." Eddie admits, before leaning closer to Steve with a wide grin, "Harrington's got her. Don't ya, big boy?" 

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, all the while flustered. Robin's lips curl as she tries to erase the final words of Eddie's sentence. Carla's grown to realize it's better to let most of Eddie Munson's words go without commentary. 

Before Steve can reply, Eddie rubbed the end of the frayed wires together and the engine came to life. Carla flinches as the radio starts to blare, lights flashing above them. The engine rumbles as it sputters on, steadying out in mere seconds.

Banging begins and Carla, Eddie, Robin, and Steve all look to the side to see the two owners of the vehicle pressed trying to gain their attention, clearly angry as they screech and squawk.

"Hey! Open this door!"

"Hey!"

"They locked the door!"

The four teens look back at the owners like deer caught in headlight. Steve looks over at Eddie, the Munson giving him a shit-eating grin right back. In mere seconds, the two boys swap seats, the Harrington throwing himself in front of the steering wheel. "Shit—go!"

Carla immediately moves for the passenger seat, awkwardly closing the curtains on the owner's faces.

"It's just a car." Steve mutters to himself before yelling out, "Everybody hang on to something!"

Lucas scrambles to find a seat, "Oh my God, oh my God! Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

From the very back, Dustin screeches, "Drive, Steve! Drive!"

"Go, go, go!" Robin calls out.

Steve slams his foot against the gas and the trailer lurches forward, Carla hanging tightly on to her seat. The owners scream and chase after their home, falling behind as the Harrington presses even harder on the pedal below him.

"Go, go, go, go, go, go!" Lucas ushers.

Dustin looks out the back window at the two owners, left in the mess of their set-up which had been knocked over. "Shit, they look pissed!"

Swaying back and forth with Steve's driving, Robin points out, "I mean, it's not every day you lose your house and car in one fell swoop!"

Steve cries out, "Hold on, hold on!"

Carla grips onto her seat for dear life as Steve turned the wheel hard to the side, the entire trailer swerving in one direction to make a sharp turn. The Wheeler cringes as she hears a bash against the side—clearly something was knocked down.

The Wheeler looks back, squinting to see the owners out the back window. They've stopped running, instead kicking at the trash that was now dumped all over the gravel road—what Steve had knocked down with his sharp turn.

"Okay—" Steve steadies the car out again as they speed onto the main road.

Carla lets out a sharp breath of relief as the trailer stops swaying, releasing her grip on the seat. 

Participating in grand theft auto wasn't the craziest thing she's ever done, if Carla's honest. 

Surprisingly, it's a quiet ride.

The War Zone was close enough outside of Hawkins, but it was still a decent drive to make, leaving the group of friends with a solid amount of time to finally rest after the week they've had.

Switching positions every little while, all the teens sit in silence, trying to sleep as much and as well as possible. It was probably the last chance they'd get at resting until after they killed Vecna.....if that even worked.

Robin, Erica, Nancy, and Dustin all sat together at a small table—the Buckley has her head against the window, sleeping; Nancy sat next to her, silently staring out the window; the Henderson and Sinclair are both trying to rest as well, the prior with his head dangling down and the latter resting her own in her hand. Lucas was sitting in the back with Max, who had her headphones dangling off her neck—Carla had given them back and the Mayfield didn't complain. Eddie was sitting off to the side, snoring.

Carla still sat in the passenger seat, quiet as she had been for most of the morning. The Wheeler knew she'd never be able to sleep with not only the constant movement and sounds, but the anxiety that bubbles under her skin about what was coming.

She still had time, but her time was running out. Carla knew that—she's known.

Vecna's interest in Max had waned recently, but Carla? He's had his eyes on her ever since '83, and did everything in his power to get her last summer. This year was no different, except he's took a more torturous approach to capturing her rather than claiming her in one go.

Vecna hadn't just let her live to torment her. He'd let her live because she was important to his plan, a pawn he wanted to manipulate. Carla had seen enough in his twisted visions to piece that much together. She was the thread tying the real world to his—she meant more to him than Max ever would.

Besides, Carla wouldn't let Max die. She would never let the Mayfield take her place. She'd never forgive herself if Max died instead of her.

"You doing okay?"

Steve's voice takes Carla out of her thoughts for a moment, and she glances over at her boyfriend. His eyes strayed off the road for a second as he spoke to her.

"Yeah," Carla replies, sending him a weak smile. "Just thinking."

"You should be sleeping." the Harrington glances at the rear-view mirror, taking in the fact that the majority of the group were all sleeping, or trying their best to do so. "You haven't slept well in a few days, baby."

Carla let out a quiet, almost bitter chuckle, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the seat in front of her. "I don't sleep well," she muttered, shaking her head slightly. "Haven't in a while."

Steve knows. He's caught her up at ungodly hours for a month now, due to what he now understands was Vecna. With a sigh, he admits, "I know."

Carla decides to change the topic, shifting in her seat. "What about you? You need me to drive for a while?"

"I'm fine." Steve admits truthfully. He'll admit when Eddie told him he'd be driving, he was slightly weary, but truly the trailer was no different than his BMW. Just bigger and livable. "It's not half bad. Considering this is a....house."

"Yeah," Carla murmurs, nodding.

The couple falls into a brief silence, the Wheeler turning to look out the window. She'd opened the curtains back up now that the owners weren't banging crazily upon the glass, which revealed the green grass and sunlight outside. The nature was a complete opposite to how the group felt.

Steve glances away from the road again and back at his girlfriend, softly smiling at her. The soft light streaming through the windows played across her face, catching on her features. Her hair was dry and still slightly messed up from the prior night, and dark circles rested under her eyes. But, even in her exhaustion, Steve still thought she was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

It wasn't just her beauty—though that always left him in awe—but the way her mind worked, how fiercely she cared about the people around her, how she fought like hell even when she was afraid. The quiet strength she carried, even when the weight of everything threatened to crush her. Today could be her final day alive, and Carla sat calmly. Staring out the window like nothing was wrong.

Looking at her, it hits him like a punch to the gut—how much he loved her. How much he couldn't lose her. And how real the possibility was that he might in a few hours.

A day might be all he has left with her, if he's being realistic. A single day left with a girl he's loved for almost five years now.

Steve remembers when he first saw her—of course he'd been through elementary and middle school with her, but the day he first really saw her. He'd been in the school's dark room, having needed photos for some class assignment.

Jonathan Byers was in the room, as he often was, working on his own photography assignment. Steve didn't pay him much attention—never did, really. The then freshman had been labeled a freak since elementary school; too quiet, too weird, for Steve's popular circle as a sophomore.

But as Steve happened to spare a glance at the boy, his eyes got caught on a photo of a girl. Her dark eyes staring directly at the camera.

Something intrigued him.

He'd asked who the girl was. Jonathan had awkwardly answered with Carla's name. After finishing his work, Steve left the darkroom and headed straight to Tommy Hagan, telling him to try and find Carla Wheeler.

Looking at her now, Steve couldn't help but think back to that. Back then, he never could've imagined how deeply Carla would become entwined in his life. How he'd fall for her—not in the superficial way he'd fallen for other girls, but in the real, undeniable way that made his heart beat differently.

One day.

The thought almost weighed him down. He didn't want to think about what could happen in the hours to come, but it was impossible not to. He had already come too close to losing her many times, and the thought of it happening for real was unbearable.

Carla had shifted Steve's life. He thinks she turned him into a better person, into someone.

If someone told Steve back in '83 that he wanted to settle down with Carla Wheeler, he would have asked if you were high.

Back then, his future was something he didn't care about—his life was all about parties and drinking and popularity. But Carla Wheeler changed that for him. Now, he couldn't imagine a life without her. A future without her. She was the person who had peeled back all the layers of arrogance, the bravado he'd worn like armor, and showed him who he could really be. Carla had made him better.

Now, Steve's future was her. He dreamed about it every night.

The Harrington thinks about what Nancy had told him the night Max almost got taken, when her told her about his dream. How she said that Carla needed something to hold on to, a reason to keep fighting. That maybe Steve's dream of their future could be that.

Steve had to tell her.

If now could be his last real moment with her, Steve wasn't going to waste it. He needed to tell her, before it was too late, because the Harrington wasn't going to let Carla possibly leave him without her knowing what he wanted, what he dreamed of, with her.

What he so desperately yearned for.

Carla deserved to know, and he couldn't keep holding back. If this was his last chance, he was going to take it.

"You know," Steve started, trying to keep his voice casual. He spares a glance at her, finding her looking right back at him.  "I've been thinking about something. Something I never really talked to you about before."

Carla's brows furrow, "What is it?"

Hear goes nothing. Steve begins, "It's—it's silly but I...I've actually.....uh, I always had this dream that I'd have this....like this really...this really big family." A small smile starts to come onto his face as he thinks about it all. "I'm talking like, uh, a full brood of Harrington's. Like five, six, kids."

Carla slightly laughs, "Six?"

"Yeah. Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys." the Harrington continues, eyes locked on the road. He hoped Carla was smiling, or wasn't too disturbed with the idea. "And...and every summer, I figured all of us Harrington's, we would pack into something like this, and....just see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. End up in some beach-side town in California. Spend a week parked in the sand. Learn how to surf or something."

Carla softly smiles at the way Steve seems so happy as he confides about this dream. He really wants it, she can tell. 

And, if she's being honest, so does she. 

Carla wants to go to college and get a degree, but she also wants to spend the rest of her life with Steve Harrington. She wants to marry him, live with him, have kids with him someday. And if that's Steve's vision of a family, then Wheeler is more than happy to live it out with him.

Voice soft, Carla admits, "That's really nice, Steve." 

Steve looks over at her, eyes fond. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So, you.....like the dream?" the Harrington cautiously presses. He'd give it up if she didn't.

"Yeah, I really do." Carla gives a nod, not breaking eye contact with him. She sees his smile widen, which makes a light laugh fall from her lips. "Except maybe the six kids part. That's a lot." 

Steve's grin widens, a little relief washing over him as he hears her words. She wants it too. 

"Good," the Harrington says, looking back at the road for a moment. He doesn't hesitate before adding, "Because you're in it."

Carla feels a genuine smile crawl up on her face.  She knew Steve was it for her, and she's always known that the Harrington wanted a future with her, but they've never fully discussed it like this, in full honesty and vulnerability. 

Hearing him say it out loud is different. Now she knows. 

 "You've always been in it, Carla." Steve admits truthfully, "I've never seen that future without you in it."

She never realized how much she wanted that—a future with him, a future where they were inseparable, a family of their own.  How much he wanted that. Hearing him say it out loud made Carla feel something; hearing him say that he wanted her for the long run, wanted her to have his kids, wanted them all to go on family road trips together, wanted normal with her.......it made her feel. 

"Always?" Carla repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Steve responds, his eyes never leaving hers. "Always."

The conversation feels like a promise to Carla. While neither said anything verbally, she feels like they promised that they'd get to have that future. That in a few years time, they'll be back here, like this, with kids screaming and running in the back. 

The Wheeler has never been good at keeping her promises, and she's not sure if she can even promise she's going to be alive tomorrow, but God, she's really gonna try and keep this one, try and live for that future.  

Carla nods her head at Steve. We'll get there. 

Steve just smiles back at her. I know. 

There's a small pause in the conversation, as both let what had been admitted sink in. 

"So, that's a no for six kids?" Steve returns to the conversation. 

"Would you want to birth six kids?" Carla counters, raising a brow. It wasn't so much the idea of raising six kids, more so the idea of carrying and birthing them. 

Steve manages a light chuckle at her point, "Okay, that's a very fair point. Not like we don't have the experience to raise six, though."

"True." Carla glances back at Lucas, Max, and Dustin in the back, thinking of how much she's had to babysit the kids. "I think I like the idea of two or three more, though."

"Then two or three it is."

"I haven't really thought about kids a lot, but uh...." Carla slightly smiles as she recalls a childhood memory, "When Nancy and I would play house together and act like mom's, I always had a little girl." 

Steve smiles, picturing it in his head. He likes that.  "A little girl, huh?" 

"Mhm," the Wheeler hums, "Monroe."

"Monroe Harrington." Steve says aloud, lightly nodding at the sound of the name. "I like that."

"She'd have her father's puppy dog eyes—"

Steve cuts her off,  "Hey, I do not have puppy dog eyes." 

"Yes, you do." Carla laughs. Really laughs—Steve feels like he hasn't heard that sound in forever, and he missed it. 

"Okay fine," the Harrington rolls his eyes, before adding, "And she'll have her mother's strength. And smile. And looks. And—"

Carla shakes her head, trying her best not to smile. "You're such a fucking sap, you know that?"

Steve doesn't defend himself, instead pulling one hand off the wheel and reaching out to gently grab onto hers. For a moment, neither of them says anything, just letting the quiet connection settle between them.

"I love you." Steve murmurs, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Carla repeats the phrase. "I love you, too."

If there's one thing she can promise, it's that. 

The couple falls back into silence, letting the gentle hum of the radio and engine fill the trailer. Carla looks back out the window, but Steve keeps glancing back at his girlfriend ever so often. 

Maybe they were betting on losing dogs. Maybe his dream wouldn't end up going anywhere, but Steve is glad to know that at least Carla wants it.

 Even if she's dead tomorrow,  at least he knows she wanted it too. 

mara's misc!

guys i hit one key and suddenly my word count is at 7000+

merry christmas!! hope you all are having or have had a good holiday with family and gifts and whatever else you guys do on this special day :) i had a good one myself, and got kelsea ballerini concert tickets so yeah!!!

anywho, this chapter was really fun for me to write, especially steve and carla's talk. i know i've given ya'll trust issues with carla but please believe me when i say that dream is all i want for her. like seriously, i want there to be an epilogue in the next book in which carla is carla harrington and has kids with steve and their happy I WANT IT SO BAD FOR THEM I PROMISE YOU. it's actually so ass that i depend so heavily on how st5 goes to give them this tho, because at the same time, if steve dies in st5, i'm not even kidding i will kill carla off too. i'm not playing that game with the duffers. 

i want monroe to happen as much as ya'll do

if it makes ya'll feel better this is how i picture little monroe (older her would be kaylee kaneshiro)

moving on....i'm writing for the finale as we speak?

talking with goldensunrays- and @GhostWriterGirl-1, as well as using chat gpt to kinda write out my ideas, i think i've figured out what i want to do regarding the finale. i'm someone who HATES going off cannon (why do i write fan-fiction again, i'm not sure), especially with s4, given we have no clue what'll happen in s5 and i really don't wanna fuck myself over now for writing for s5. SO i've come to an idea i think will make sense carla's connection wise, but will also keep my girl from being in a coma in s5. 

idk if you can tell but i'm stressing

anywho, happy holidays!!

hope you enjoyed <3 see you back chapter 19!