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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT ; ALEXEI
also known as;
( the bite ; part two )

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STELLA HATED BLOOD. She should've been used to the sight of it by now; she'd seen it all her life. But still, blood, to her, meant the loss of life. Annie had been covered in it when they found her, and she died. She couldn't count all the times she'd seen Steve covered head to toe in thick red liquid, on the brink of death but somehow still pulling through. All the hits he'd taken; he should've gotten some form of brain damage by now. And herself; she'd been drenched in blood on more than one occasion, whether it was someone else's or her own. 

Now, it was both. 

"Stella, can you hear me?" Murray asked frantically as she fell against the back of one of the food stands, followed by Alexei. She groaned in response, clutching her shoulder as she tried to protest the agonising pain. "Stella, keep pressure on it. Keep an eye on Alexei, alright? I'll get help. I'll get you two help, alright?"

"Don't leave," Stella wheezed, but it was too late. Murray had disappeared, and it was just her left with the spectacled scientist. She used what strength she had and shuffled over, reaching out with her right arm to help him put pressure on his own wound. Alexei whimpered, tears running down his face, and she pushed herself onto her knees, Resting her chin on his head and pulling him close. "It's gonna be okay, Alexei. I promise."

Alexei choked out a cry, and Stella sniffled, trying to ignore the searing sensation in her shoulder. She lifted her hand to his face, caressing his skin despite the sweat and tears that were dripping. She inhaled sharply as she looked down, seeing the blood bubbling at his stomach. 

His breaths were becoming shorter and slower, while hers were starting to quicken. "Alexei, come on, man, you can't do this."

Alexei blinked a couple of times, before his hand fell from where he was putting pressure to the wound. Stella sobbed softly, taking said hand in her own. 

Inhaling sharply, as if his breath had been cut by a shard of glass, Alexei's bloodshot eyes flickered up to the teenager and he smiled, though there was far too much pain held in it for Stella to comprehend. He swallowed thickly and moved his mouth to try and form words, but nothing seemed to come out. Stella noticed this and shook her head. "It's okay. I'm sorry, Alexei."

Alexei's lips moved slightly, but again, no words. 

Stella hiccuped and forced herself to watch through her teary vision as he continued to deflate. She held his hand as tight as she could despite her own suffering, the lump in her throat so thick she could barely intake the air around her. Her lip trembling, she leaned down and kissed Alexei's forehead softly. "I love you, man."

Alexei wheezed, and Stella could hardly detect the mumble he had finally created. "спасибо, Стелла."

Thank you, Stella.

He didn't say anything else. Stella felt a cold numbness wash over her, and she collapsed beside him, knowing that the life inside him had soaked through his white shirt and into the damp soil of the carnival grounds. 

She couldn't bring herself to look at her own wound, so instead she sat on the grass, sobbing until she felt the contents of her lunch make its way out of her mouth. She vomited until her throat was raw and her nose stung, her eyes now far too sore to even open. She coughed and spat and tried to ignore the fact that the world around her was spinning. Her hands were stained scarlet red, which only made her stomach churn more. 

"Stella!" Joyce cried out, but it was mere noise in her ears. The teenager retched, her fingers gripping the green grass like it was an anchor of some kind. "Alexei, oh my God!"

Stella curled up on the ground, her mind reeling. 

"I just left for a minute, to get a corn dog," Murray sniffled, reaching out for Stella, cradling her head. "A stupid corn dog."

"Oh, God," Joyce whimpered, covering her mouth with her hand. She looked back at Stella, and choked up a little, watching as Murray removed his belt to tie around her shoulder as a tourniquet. "Is she gonna be okay? She's not gonna, she's not..."

"Go find a first aid kit; there oughta be one in this place," Murray instructed, trying to lift Stella to her feet. She was practically dead weight, pale and heavy with only a shrivel of life left in her. He looked at her shoulder and sighed a breath of relief when he noticed that there was an exit wound on her back. "I think it's only a flesh wound, but she's far too traumatised right now. She'll be okay if we can stitch her up, but we gotta be careful that she doesn't go into shock."

Stella groaned as she was forced to stand, and she clutched Murray like her life depended on it (well, it sort of did). "We can't leave him."

"Stella, we have to," Murray muttered, his own voice thick with anguish. "I can't...we don't have time, we have to get to Starcourt and stop all this shit from happening. We'll come back for him, I promise."

"Alexei," Stella wept, looking back to see the scientist's lifeless body one last time. "I'm sorry."

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Joyce Byers was glad she wasn't the one in the backseat with Stella Collins. Instead, she had her foot to the floor and her eyes on the Fun House, where Hopper said he'd be. She tried her best to block out Stella's cries of pain as Murray's careful hands stitched her up with a needle and thread they'd swiped from the first aid tent on the way out. 

To Joyce, Stella was a ray of light in a dark storm. They had worked together at the general store for a year or so until the teenager left, yet Joyce had never truly considered how important she was. She had taken care of Will when there was no one home; she'd been a friend and an influence to her young son. She was always kind and considerate, and never allowed herself to be beaten. She'd gotten through so much; it was devastating to hear about what happened to young Annabelle Connelly, but she'd made it through that and had grown because of it. 

"Joyce!" Hopper yelled, diving into the passenger seat once he saw the car pull up to the carnival ride. "Drive! Go!"

Murray swore as the vehicle jerked, turning his head to glare at the other two adults. "Careful!"

Hopper looked back and his eyes widened at the sight of Stella Collins covered in blood, sweat and tears. "Shit. What happened? Where's Alexei?"

No one said anything. Stella shakily inhaled. 

"Okay, you're all done, kid," Murray assured her, breaking the string and opening a thick bandage to wrap around her shoulder. He then handed her one of the bottles of water he had nicked from the fair, opening it and allowing her to drink. The loss of blood (as well as her lunch) meant she was absolutely parched, though he made sure she didn't drown herself in the refreshing substance. "Try not to move too much."

Stella nodded and grimaced as she pushed herself up. Her arm felt like jelly and the sharp, burning sensations were still there, but the knowledge that she was likely going to survive had calmed her beating heart down a little bit. She forced herself to stare up at the sky and make sense of everything that had just happened. 

She knew. She knew that everything was going to end up like this. It was a pattern. Everything seemed okay for the briefest of moments, only for it all to collapse and cut her deeper than any physical sword ever could. 

Alexei was gone. A man who she had come to deeply care for like a brother, a best friend, was dead. She should have objected to leaving the car and going to the carnival. She should've kept a closer eye out for threats. She hadn't been paying attention, and now she had a hole in her shoulder and another dead person she cared about. 

"Murray, hey! Translate!" Hopper shoved a talkie into Murray's face hurriedly, noticing that someone was muttering into it.

Murray sighed softly and took the device, holding it up to his ear to decode the foreign language. "We've found the children. They are still in the mall, lower level. Block all the entrances to the food court."

"Shit," Stella swore, knowing exactly what children the Russians were talking about. "Shit, shit."

 The radio then went silent, and Murray frowned, still listening intensely. 

"Nothing?" Joyce asked after a moment, turning the wheel violently as they exited the fairgrounds. Murray shook his head. 

"Food court? You sure they said food court?" Hopper inquired, leaning over the back of the seat. 

"I'm sorry, have my translation skills been letting you down?" Murray shot back sarcastically. 

"Jesus Christ, will you guys grow up?" Stella snapped irritably, causing the two men to sigh and settle down. 

"We don't know it's your kids," Murray tried to assure the Chief, and Joyce scoffed.

"Yes, we do."

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one more episode left holy shit