THE WAR ZONE CERTAINLY DID JUSTICE TO IT'S NAME. 

After a solid hour of driving, Steve parked the trailer in the parking lot of The War Zone. Plenty of trucks and cars of all kinds filled the lots, and there were many people of different ages entering the large store. So much for staying hidden—it certainly didn't help that half of the group was covered in grime, and that one was shirtless and shoe-less. 

Leaving Dustin, Lucas, and Eddie—for obvious reasons—in the trailer, the remainder of the group stormed into The War Zone with one mission in mind; scoring as many weapons as they possibly could as quickly as possible.

There are many shoppers within, pushing carts full of all kinds of should-be illegal weapons. Guns are being held and aimed everywhere, women are holding baskets as their respective partners throw in grenades. Carla's surprised by the amount of people within—she knew that the murders had scared most of Hawkins, but wasn't buying grenades a little much?
There's chatter everywhere. Half of the customers don't look very nice.

There's a surplus of everything the group could want. Yet, it's more packed than they'd prefer.

"So much for avoiding angry hicks." Robin rolls her eyes at the surplus of customers.

"Let's be..." Nancy trails off, just as worried with the array of people. "....fast." 

"Yep."

Erica nods, "Definitely."

"Okay, uh, you need to find a shirt, and some shoes, yeah?" Carla glances over at Steve, doing a once-over on his appearance. She hadn't paid much mind, but she's suddenly noticing the fact that he's both shirtless and shoe-less, and realizes it's probably drawing more attention than necessary. 

Steve gives a quick nod. It would feel nice to not be in Eddie's grimy vest, and he doubts it's sanitary that he's walking barefoot in a place like The War-Zone. "Yeah, that would probably do me good." 

The Wheeler grabs a shopping basket and starts walking off, unsure of what she was really looking for. Guns would probably be the most reasonable, but there were plenty of knives, grenades, bottles of gasoline that could be used to inflame things—they had every option in this store. 

Passing by shelves, the Wheeler shuffles various items into her basket, not checking their description nor their price tags. Her eyes spot out her friends in various sections of the store, but her eyes land on her sister standing with a rifle her hands, eyeing it up with interest. Her bright pink nails are a big contrast from the large weapon she's holding.

Carla makes her way over to her sister, nodding towards the weapon. "I like that one." 

"Me too," Nancy murmurs, cocking it. Without looking at the clerk ahead, she asks, "How much is this?"

The clerk replies, "$120.99, but I'll throw in twenty rounds of buckshot for ya." 

Nancy offers a curt nod, looking back down at the firearm in her hands. Carla's eyes scan over the guns on the shelves, eyeing them up before she points to one in the back, "Can I have that .22 carbine, please?"

The man gives a nod, grabbing the firearm and handing it over to the Wheeler. Carla shifts the basket on her arm, grabbing hold of the gun. Her fingers delicately smooth over the side of it, and she shifts it around in her arms. She could get used to this. 

"Hey, can I see this real pretty .357 please?"

Carla feels her body tense as the familiar voice of Jason Carver appears at her side, and she quickly locks eyes with her sister, Nancy sharing a tense look. 

The Wheeler hadn't seen Jason since the basketball game, but she didn't need to see him to know that he wasn't okay. His girlfriend and close friend had both been murdered by Vecna, or by Eddie, as everyone thinks, and according to Lucas, the Carver boy was out for the Munson's blood as they spoke. The Munson who currently sat right outside. 

It would be better if they got out before Jason noticed they were here.

"Go pay for that." Carla grits to her sister, eyeing around the store. She spots the familiar Hawkins Tigers jackets all of the jocks wore—she assumes all of them have become Jason's minions in this whole Eddie manhunt. "Get everyone together. The jocks are everywhere."

Nancy gives a small nod and manages to sneak off before Jason loses conversation with the salesman. Carla, however, isn't so lucky.

"Carla Wheeler," Jason drawls, leaning against the counter.  "Wouldn't expect to find you here."

Carla slowly turns to meet eyes with the boy and immediately takes in the bloodshot appearance of his irises, and the purple bags that sit under them. His face is clammy. His smile isn't so charming anymore. He looks horrible. 

Meekly, the Wheeler tries to diffuse the conversation. "Yeah, well, you don't really know me, so..." 

"You're right." Jason chuckles darkly, making Carla feel more uncomfortable than she already had standing beside him. He stops leaning on the counter and takes a step towards the Wheeler, "You know what I do know, though? Shot-guns aren't good for much of anything past killing small birds."

Carla stands her ground, fingers clenching around the gun in her hands. "Mm." 

"I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range." Jason continues, coming close to the Wheeler until the only thing in between them is the width of the gun. "And that's just gonna force you into close-range combat, then someone can just grab that barrel like this—"

Carla flinches as Jason grabs a hold of the barrel of the gun, redirecting it. 

"—and redirect it." 

The Carver's grip on the barrel doesn't loosen. There's a few seconds of un-nerving silence. 

Carla locks eyes with him. "Let go of my gun." 

"Well, you look nervous." Jason's eyes scan over her face. He'd seen her flinch; he could see how uncomfortable she looked next to him, as if she had something she was hiding. 

"There's a murderer running around Hawkins." Carla replies stiffly, knuckles white as her fingers clench harder. "Who isn't?" 

Jason gives a nod, though he doesn't seem to be done with Carla yet. "Now your brother, he, uh...is he here with you, by chance?" He doesn't even blink, forcing the Wheeler to stare into his crazed eyes. 

Carla doesn't break. "No." 

"I only ask because he's....he's in Hellfire, isn't he?" Jason presses, searching through Carla's facade for any sort of crack. The Wheeler keeps her jaw locked and eyes firm—she isn't telling the Carver shit. "What about his friends? Those kids you're always with? Henderson? Sinclair? They here with you?"

"I'll ask again, would you let go of my gun." 

"Carla, I'm asking nicely—"

"So am I." Carla grits, unwavering. "Let go."

"Hey!"

Both Jason and Carla look over to the side, the Wheeler feeling her shoulders sink in slight relief as she sees Steve pacing over, eyes narrowed as he takes in the scene—the way Jason's hand is wrapped around the barrel, Carla's tense expression.

Jason lets go the gun, sparing her a final tight glare. Carla presses the firearm back against her own figure.

"What's going on here?" Steve glances between Carla and Jason. He found himself a new outfit—a camouflage shirt and a brown leather jacket. 

"Just having a friendly conversation." Jason chuckles, though his voice is still tight. Steve takes one look at his crazed eyes and reaches out to grab his girlfriend—they've stayed long past their welcome here, anyways. "Warning her that a shotgun might not be the best choice right now. Wouldn't want her to get hurt."

"I think we'll be okay." Steve starts pulling away from Jason. With little care, he spits an,  "Stay safe, man."

"Yeah, you too, Harrington."

Carla lets out a breath of relief as her and Steve walk away from Jason and towards the register to pay for the things in her basket and the rifle in her grasp. While she didn't need Steve to save her, the Wheeler was rather thankful he arrived when he did.

 Steve watches her closely, his expression softening as he notices the tense way she's holding herself. "You okay?"

Carla taps her fingers against the rifle. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... didn't expect that."

"What did he want, anyway?"

"I think he knows we're with Lucas and Dustin." the Wheeler admits, setting her rifle and the basket of weapons onto the counter. A cashier starts scanning them. "He asked me if them and Mike were here with us." 

"He's losing it, you know." Steve shakes his head, grabbing the now-purchased items in his grasp. "This whole revenge-hero complex? It's messing with his head." 

"He looks like shit." Carla agrees, glancing back at where her and Jason had been. While she hated him for the man-hunt he was on for Eddie, she couldn't help but feel bad. After all, he didn't know a demonic creature was behind the loss of his loved ones. For all he knew, Eddie did kill his girlfriend. "I kinda feel bad for him, you know? As much as I'd rather not know about Vecna, at least we know that he's behind this." 

"Either way, he's losing it." Steve sighs, shifting their purchased goods in his grasp. His eyes scan around the store, spotting Nancy, Max, and Erica, and Robin standing near the exit. "Let's get the hell out of here. I've had enough of this place."

Carla agrees, humming, "Too many people." 

The couple makes their way to the group, who sit with their own purchases—Carla doesn't even want to know how Erica bought what she wanted. Without a word they all hurried outside and made quick work getting to the trailer, which stood out like a sore thumb amongst the other cars in the lot. A few times did they look back to make sure Jason nor his fellow teammates were following.

Steve opens the door and climbs in, throwing a bag at Eddie. Carla files in second and brushes past her boyfriend to sit in her seat. 

"What happened?" Lucas whips around.

Steve moves for the drivers seat, "We gotta go." 

Erica rushes in, eyeing her brother. "Your old friends are here."

Lucas' eyes widen. "Shit!"

The rest of the group filed in, piling their newly bought items up. Dustin rushes, "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" Steve yells back, "Sit down!"

The Harrington starts the car and the trailer races out of The War Zone.

The group ends up in a field.

Driving back to Hawkins, Nancy voices that it might be best that they set up and get weapons ready ahead of time. No one complains, and Steve stops the trailer in the middle of a field—the middle of nowhere, really. Perfect to be setting up weapons to fight a should-be mythical creature. 

The field is quiet save for the rustle of grass in the late afternoon breeze and the occasional clink of glass bottles and metal as the group works.  Everyone is split up into different groupings, doing different tasks.

Nancy and Max are in their own spot, the Wheeler sawing off the barrel of her gun while Max copies her actions with the rifle Carla had bought—truly, Carla doesn't think she'll need it if she's going to be tasked with busying Vecna, but she bought it at the cost of being more safe than sorry. Lucas and Erica sit a little away, tying knives to long sticks to create spears. Farther are Dustin and Eddie, who'd been tasked with creating shields using trash-can lids and nails, but now seem to be brawling with each other like little boys playing pretend.

Carla herself sits in the grass right in front of the trailer, figure leaning against her boyfriends leg. Above her, Steve and Robin sit pouring gasoline into bottles and stuffing them with cloth—Molotov cocktails. The two best friends have been chatting as they work, as they always are, catching the Wheeler up on what had happened at The War-Zone while she was stuck with Jason. 

Apparently, Vickie had been there and Robin had spotted her. But, before she could even try to speak up, a boy their age comes running up and starts kissing her neck. Kissing. Her. Neck. 

 For pausing Fast Times at fifty-three minutes and five seconds, that seemed pretty-fucking-straight.

Carla wanted to voice that she could just be bisexual and figuring herself out, but either way, Robin had got her heart broken. A). There was something in Vickie that did like boys, and B). She was officially taken by one. 

"I mean, it just doesn't make sense." Steve shakes his head, thinking about what he'd seen at The War Zone. Every since the group split off, he hadn't stopped talking about it—somehow, he seemed to care more than Robin that her crush might not be gay.

Robin starts to pour gasoline into the bottle Steve's holding, "What doesn't make sense?"

"That was Dan Shelter. He graduated, like, two years ago." 

"So?"

"So, he's in college." Steve continues, as if his point were obvious. "Which means she was visiting on Spring Break. Fast Times was returned, like, I don't know, a week ago?" He glances down at the girl sitting below him. "Baby, hand me that rag."

Carla does as she's asked, handing over the white rag so they could finish up the bottle. 

Steve takes the rag and keeps going, "Thanks—So, unless she's got some horn-dog brother we don't know about, which is possible, or, she's just, maybe, like, really into Judge Reinhold—"

Robin cuts him off, "Steve." 

"What?"

"I don't care." the Buckley unexpectedly states, causing Steve's brows to furrow. Carla turns her head to listen in to her friend speak, features softening as she hears the girls tone. "I don't understand why you do either with everything that's going on. Honestly, this feels like the perfect time for that little pull of the rug because....in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low."

"Yeah," Steve finally replies, stuffing a towel in the now finished bottle. "But, I still have hope for you." 

Robin shakes her head, taking the finished Molotov cocktail and setting it down. "Not everything has a happy ending."

Steve goes quiet, grabbing the funnel. His gaze drops slightly, landing on Carla. She doesn't meet his eyes, but he studies her profile—the tension in her jaw, the soft furrow of her brows as she half-listens in, the way she avoids looking up at him.

"Yeah," He murmurs, his voice quieter, more contemplative. "I know."

"I don't know." Robin states, pouring gasoline into the new bottle Steve picked up. Her mind is filled with words she can say, because honestly, what if this is her last moment with her best friend? With Carla, too? "I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that....it might not work out for us this time."

That might be the last thing Carla Wheeler wants to hear right now. 

She knows Robin has a point. They've fought monsters from the Upside Down before, they were experienced, but they've never gone against anything like Vecna. Nothing yet matched his power, his abilities, his manipulation. He fought internally, and all the group knew was external combat.

Going into battle with him could be the stupidest choice they could make. 

Carla knows that. Despite having decided where she'd go in this mission back at Max's trailer, it's been gnawing at the Wheeler slowly since then. Especially now, after Steve admitted what he wants with her.  Now, when Carla isn't sure she can give him that—now, when Carla isn't sure she'll even be alive tomorrow.

Hearing Robin's words of little hope do nothing to soothe her anxiety. It worsens it. Makes her feel sick. 

"You think we shouldn't be doing this?" Steve replies after a moment. 

"I think we're mad fools, the lot of us, but...." the Buckley trails off, pouring gasoline. "....but if we don't stop him, who will?"

Once again, Robin stands true. With the exception of the Byers, El, and Mike, in California, they were the only ones who knew about Vecna. Who knew how to possibly stop him, who could stop him. If they didn't do it, who would? Without them, Hawkins would be left to rot. 

Carla knows this, too. She doesn't have a choice. Yet she still feels sick. 

"We have to try, right?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees, holding the bottle towards Robin. "To killing Vecna."

Robin smiles and holds up a finished bottle, "Slash Henry." 

"Slash One."

They clink the bottles together. 

Carla's stomach twists in a way she can't ignore, the anxiety of what's to come weighing heavily on her chest. She watches Steve and Robin clink the bottles together, their efforts infused with a mix of hope and grim determination. It makes her heart ache.

She stands up abruptly, looking off into the field.She wants space. Space to breathe, to think. She feels suffocated, the weight of everything pressing in on her—Vecna, the group, the future, and Steve's confessions.

She needs to talk to Steve. 

Steve glances up, handing the bottle to Robin, his eyes fixed on Carla. "Hey, you okay?" 

"No," Carla admits, for the first time in what felt like forever. Steve's features immediately soften in concern at the admission. "I just—" She nods her head toward a spot a little farther away from the group. "Can we talk? Just for a second?"

Steve hesitates, glancing over at Robin, who waves him off with a knowing look. "Go. I've got this covered."

He stands and follows Carla to a quieter spot, away from the others. The two of them stop near a small patch of wildflowers, grass taller. 

Steve crosses his arms, watching her closely. "What's going on?"

"We both know I'm going with Lucas, Erica, and Max tonight. She needs protection, and I need to be there in case Vecna decides to go after her instead. It makes sense if we're together." Carla shifts on her feet. Steve already knew they wouldn't be together in this fight, but she felt like restating it.

Steve nods, "Yeah. That's fine, Carla."

"No, it's just—we both know how this is ending tonight, Steve. You know." Carla tries her best to speak without sounding scared. "Max and I. One of us is dying tonight, and I've had this feeling ever since I found out that I was cursed too that it's going to be me." With a small nod of her head, as if she's coming to terms with it, the Wheeler finalizes, "I'm dying tonight."

"Don't say that," Steve immediately snaps, his voice sharp. "You don't know that."

"I do." Carla says firmly, running off her first thought. She kneads her fingers together, lips pursing as she opens up to Steve in the way she hasn't the last few months. "Look, for the last few months, I've thought about it a lot—being dead. I thought maybe everyone would be better off. I pictured it, Steve. I convinced myself that it'd be easier for everyone if I wasn't here."

Steve's face falls, but he stays quiet. He can tell she needs this. 

"But last night, when I was stuck with Vecna, when I thought I was gonna die, I realized that wasn't what I wanted.  I don't want to die. I don't. Not anymore." Carla admits, shifting on her feet. "And earlier, you told me about that dream, and it's a really fucking beautiful dream, Steve. I want it—I really want that with you, baby."

"And we're gonna have it, Carla." Steve reaches to grab her hand, squeezing it as if he's sealing a promise. "After all this, I'm gonna find a house for us. You're gonna go to college, and—"

"Steve, stop." the Wheeler drops his hand. God, why was this so hard? "I want it all with you. I really do. But I know I'm not making it out this time. He told me that it's been meant to happen ever since '83."  She swallows, the memory of her brush with death last summer flooding back. "It did happen, Steve. Last summer. I escaped it. Barely. And I just have this horrible feeling that I'm not escaping it this time."

She pauses for a moment. She doesn't know how she wants to tell Steve, but she knows she has too before she's dead. 

"And that's why I need to tell you this. If I don't make it....." Carla trails off for a moment before finally admitting, "I want you to move on."

Steve can practically hear his heart crack.

"I want you to find someone else and be happy."

"Carla, don't." Steve knows where this conversation is going, and he hates it. As much as he knows, he hates it. "Don't talk like this. We're going to get through this. All of us."

She shakes her head, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "I need you to listen, okay? If all goes wrong tonight, I want you to find someone new. Find someone who makes you happy, find someone who can give you those six little nuggets, and those summer road trips, and everything you've ever dreamed of. Steve, I want that for you. I want you to have it all... even if it's not with me."

Carla Wheeler would rather see her boyfriend happy with someone else than not happy at all. She doesn't want him lonely for the rest of his life without her. She wants to see him smiling in a trailer, with kids in the back. Kids who don't look like her, but his kids nonetheless. 

"I need you to promise me you'll keep going. That you'll let yourself be happy." the Wheeler continues, feeling herself growing more emotional. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live that dream with somebody. You deserve it."

Steve's voice breaks as he whispers, "I don't want anyone else. I want you."

Carla smiles sadly, her hand moving up to cup his cheek. "You'll always have a piece of me, Steve. Always. But someday, you'll wake up, and you won't remember this feeling. I'll just be your first love. And that's okay. Because it means you'll have moved on, and you'll be happy. That's all I want."

"Carla—"

"Promise me." Carla interrupts, her voice breaking. "Please." 

 "I can't make that promise," the Harrington murmurs.

"Yes, you can." the Wheeler replies, trying her best not to cry. "Because you're Steve Harrington. And you always do what's right."

His throat tightens, his chest heavy with unspoken words. He wants to shout, to argue, to promise her that he'll never stop loving her, that he'll never forget her, that he'll never move on. But something inside him tells him that's not what she needs. What she needs, what she's asking for, is for him to live a life without her, a life where he's happy, even if it means leaving her behind.

Steve can't do that. He's not happy without Carla Wheeler.

He doesn't say anything to her words. Instead, he pulls his girlfriend into his arms, holding her tightly. Carla rests her head against his chest, trying to hold back her own tears.

She'll miss his warm embrace. 

The sun was setting when they got to the Creel house.

An orange glow is cast on the group as the trailer pulls up in front of the haunted house. The airy and carefree mood most had been in within the field was wiped right away, replaced by anxiety and worry. Of fear. There's a small bit of hope and determination, but the dread that fills everyone makes it dwindle.

They'd created a plan. Erica, Carla, Lucas, and Max would all go into the Creel house with lanterns so they could find him just like they had the day Patrick was killed. After finding him, they'd stay in that room and wait for him to take one of his targets. Whoever was taken would keep Vecna busy. Lucas and Erica were there to not only keep watch but to go and warn the others when Vecna was distracted.

The others would be going back into the Upside Down with the weapons they'd bought and constructed. Once they receive the hint that Vecna's distracted from one of the Sinclair's, Nancy, Robin, and Steve would be going to the Upside Down version of the Creel house to kill Vecna while he's in his trance like state trying to claim Carla or Max. To draw the bats away from the house, Eddie and Dustin would come in, the Munson being tasked to play his guitar to draw their attention, running out with the Henderson before they end up attacked.

It was a solid plan, but would it work? They didn't have another shot at this if it didn't.

No one talks. No one even looks at each other. They all sit in different spots within the trailer, clutching their weapons with thinned lips. The prospect that they could lose each other sits heavy in their hearts and minds, but no one dares to break the silence to start a goodbye. After all, they had to keep the hope that they'd all see each other when this was over. They had too. 

Yet, Carla wasn't going to leave without a goodbye this time. 

When Steve finally stops the trailer, the Wheeler stiffly gets out of her seat and moves towards the back to say goodbye to the five people she'd be departing. She has to say goodbye because she'll feel horrible if this is it and she doesn't get the chance too. 

After all, these people have become her family over the last week, the last few years, for some of them. They've protected her more than she's ever protected herself. They mean a lot to Carla. 

"Be smart, like you always are, okay?" the Wheeler stops in front of Dustin first. The boy looks up at her, offering a curt nod, though his clenched fingers and eerily quiet nature said he was less than determined in himself and Eddie. "Don't let him—" she spares a glance at the Munson beside him, "—do anything stupid."

The Henderson shakes his head, murmuring, "I won't." 

She reaches out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Stay safe, Dusty."

"You too," Dustin whispers, his voice barely audible. The vulnerability in his tone tugs at her heart, but she doesn't let it show.

"I heard what you said about me." Eddie says from beside Dustin, sending the Wheeler a look of fake-offense. "Me? Stupid? Never." 

"You were meant to." Carla replies, tone shifting to a lighter one for all of a few seconds.

 She didn't know Eddie Munson well before this week, but he's grown on her. Underneath the mullet and the rings and all the leather is a boy with a good sense of humor, who yearns for attention and acceptance.

 A boy who didn't deserve to be thrown into all of this shit. 

Truthfully, she can't help but admit, "I'm sorry this shit happened to you, Eddie."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too." Eddie loses the usual lightheartedness in his tone for a moment, before quickly adding, "For you, that is, and all this shit. But, honestly, being cursed by a monster who should be fake is kind of badass.... in a way?" 

The Wheeler sighs, "Glad someone's finding the light out of it." 

 Eddie drops a hand from what he was holding, fists it, and offers it out to the Wheeler. Carla slightly smiles as she bumped hers against his. 

Next to Eddie is Robin. 

"For once I'm not gonna ramble." Robin speaks first, standing up. Her weapon falls into the ground but she doesn't seem to care, instead wrapping her arms around the Wheeler before she can say anything. "Stay safe for not my sake, but Steve's, because  I cannot stand to hear him mope or I will go insane. But, I guess, that would be my personal sake—" 

"Robin," Carla pulls away and clasps the girl on the shoulders, making her stop talking. "I love you too."

"I was getting there."

"I know." Carla nods with a sad smile. She glances back at the drivers seat, watching as Steve filed out the door, no doubt waiting for her. "If things don't work out.....watch over him? Please."

Robin nods reassuringly. "You know I will."

Carla gives her a nod back in response, trying to recompose herself as she walks back through the bus and over to Nancy. The Wheeler is sitting away from the group, quiet and composed, gun laying in her lap. She looks every bit the composed leader she's grown into, but Carla knows better. Beneath the stoic exterior, Nancy is just as scared as the rest of them.

"Nance," Carla calls softly, coming to a stop a few steps away.

Nancy lifts her head, her grey eyes meeting Carla's. There's something raw and unspoken in her gaze, a weight that they both understand but don't dare put into words. 

"Don't miss."

Nancy's lips press together in a tight line, her jaw clenching at the weight of Carla's words. The silence between them stretches, thick and full of unsaid things. Finally, she nods, her voice barely above a whisper when she speaks. "I won't."

Carla knows she won't. She just needs something else to say other than goodbye, for once.

The Wheeler doesn't spare a final glance at anyone in the trailer before walking down the steps and out onto the pavement. There, she sees Max waiting for her—holding two lanterns, one for her—along with the two Sinclair's. And Steve. 

He stands a few feet away, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face betraying the calm facade he's trying to maintain. The others are standing, waiting for her, but for now, all she sees is him.

She walks toward him, her steps quickening as the lump in her throat grows. She knows she shouldn't let the fear consume her, knows she needs to stay strong, but with him standing there, looking at her like this might be the last time, her resolve falters.

When she reaches him, Steve doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls her into his arms, wrapping her in a hug that feels desperate, like he's holding on for dear life. Carla buries her face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him, grounding herself in his warmth.

They stay like that for what feels like forever, but not enough time at all.

"I'm gonna see you after this is all over, okay?" Steve finally murmurs, voice breaking slightly. He pulls back just enough to look at her, his hands cupping her face. His thumbs brush against her cheeks.  

Carla nods. She wants to believe him. She has too. 

"I love you," Carla whispers back. It's all she can say to him that is fully true. She doesn't know if she'll come home, she doesn't know if she'll be unharmed, but she loves him. "I always have. Even when I didn't know how to say it, or—or when I told you I'd rather be a stranger to you. I love you. Just remember that, okay?" 

Without a reply, Steve leans down, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is slow, unhurried, and filled with everything they're both too scared to say—the fear, the love, the desperate hope that this isn't the end.

It's a promise, a plea, and a goodbye all rolled into one, though neither of them wants to admit that last part.

When he pulls away, Steve's  lips curve into the faintest smile, though the sadness in his eyes doesn't fade. "I know. And I love you, too. Always."

 "I'll see you soon." Carla knows he can't stay here forever, as much as she wishes she could. 

Steve nods, "See you when we've saved the world."

He presses a kiss to her forehead before stepping back. With one last look, Carla forces herself to step away, heading toward Max and the Sinclair siblings. As she takes the lantern Max hands her, she doesn't look back at Steve, knowing that if she does, she might not be able to walk away.

Instead, she grips the lantern tightly, steels herself, and follows the others toward the Creel house.

Towards her death. 

mara's misc!

and with that we have made it to the finale? 

really, i can't believe i've made it so far in less than a year. i mean it took me so long to write for gone, but here i am, writing for episode 9 less than a year after i was writing for episode one. i'm proud of myself tbh (who am i if not having my random motivation losses??)

as of now, i'm currently writing the epilogue. no spoilers for the finale but um....it's a little rough. cried a bit writing it, but maybe that's just cuz i had to watch max snap crackle and pop for the first time in two years. i'm trying to savor out the epilogue because TRULY idk what to do without starla in my life and once i finish that i'm done with them for the next god knows how long. maybe i'll rewrite vanished??

with that.....final thoughts on what i've written for the finale? 

anywho, enough yapping about this book, now time for me to yap about the new year

2024 has done me & starla so so good. i've managed to finish gone AND pretty much complete sighted, which is amazing. i've managed to write for this book without losing motivation, which is something i couldn't say at all for gone. 

i appreciate all the love you every one of you readers has given me, but i just want to talk about two people in particular who have really made my 2024 better on this app. 

first and foremost, GhostWriterGirl-1

ghost, i am SO SO SO glad that we've stayed mutuals and have even taken a further step in our friendship and started talking over pinterest. i love sending each other different memes and headcannons about the our respective fics, as well as just simply talking. you're one of the only people who likes stranger things like i like stranger things and i'm so not ready to sob and freak out with you over the finale.

i appreciate all the help you've given me when it comes to writing decisions for not just this fic, but all of them. and i'll always appreciate how you read summertime sadness without even watching the show. i just appreciate all that you've done for me this year so much. 

you're the best mutual i could have ever asked for, and i hope 2025 gives you writing prosperity galore. love you bunches <3

i'd also like to mention goldensunrays-

alexis, i did not expect to gain a new reader like you but WOW have you made this book so fun to write for. your comments always make me laugh. like genuinely laugh. i look forward to updating just to see your comments, even if the chapter is sad. you're just so real for a person. not only that, but you're such a genuine reader, too. i appreciate how much you love this book and carla, even though i keep killing you with this book (it won't get much better, i promise you). 

i hope you can comment on some of my other books too because i do not want to lose your comments ever. you make my days brighter. love you girl <33

hope you enjoyed <3 see you in the new year with the finale!!