CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
2x08: The Mind Flayer

"Mr. Bob, please, let me go!" Sam continued writhing in Bob's arms as Mike tried fighting the two guards. The kids were being blocked from warning everyone that it was a trap—that they would die if they didn't retreat now.

"Let me go, ugly assholes!" Mike screamed.

Bob's grip tightened on Sam if anything. "Not until you calm down, kiddo. What's wrong, Sam? Explain."

"It's a trap!" Sam cried. "If you don't let us go now, then—"

The alarm began blaring. All other lights shut off so that yellow lights could blink rapidly to alert them all.

Sam went slack in Bob's arms, his arms around her waist being the only thing holding her up. She made eye contact with Mike, who'd also stopped fighting the guards.

"Mike," she muttered, voice fearful.

"We're too late," Mike realized, his face devastated.

"What?" Bob questioned.

Sam pushed Bob away from her as hard as she could, and finally was let go from his grasp. "We're too late!" she yelled.

She and Mike ran back into Will's hospital room, promptly followed by Bob while the two guards set off to find out what the alarm was for. If they had listened to Sam or Mike, they would have already known by now—or maybe there wouldn't even need to be an alarm, because they could've been warned in time.

They slowed to a stop once they reached Will's room. It was dark outside, and the lights weren't on in the hospital room, so the only way of light now was the blinking yellow.

"What's going on?" Joyce asked over the loud alarm.

"We're under attack," Sam breathed, eyebrows creasing nervously.

Thinking fast, Mike grabbed a needle and the sedative next to it. "We need to make Will sleep."

"What?" Joyce said, as if Mike was the crazy one and not Will.

"He's a spy," Sam explained in a shaky voice. "If he knows where we are, so does the shadow monster."

Will's eyes widened in alarm and he shot up in his bed uncooperatively. "They're lying!"

"He killed those soldiers," Mike exclaimed. "He'll kill us, too!"

"They're lying!" Will screamed, trying to run away. Sam and Joyce both took one of Will's arms, forcing him back in the bed, but he kept trying to break forward. "They're lying! THEY'RE LYING! THEY'RE LYING! THEY'RE LYING!"

The alarm continued blaring, but that sound was soon mingled with guns firing near Will's room.

"Those are gunshots!" Bob shouted anxiously.

Will continued trying to wrench out of Sam and Joyce's grip as he screeched. "THEY'RE LYING! THEY'RE LYING!"

"Okay, Will, Will, listen, listen," Joyce tried to calm him down. She grabbed both of his shoulders. "Do you know who I am?"

Will went silent, and his eyes were wild.

Joyce shook him desperately. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're," Will's eyes searched Joyce's face desperately, "You're—you're Mom!"

Joyce stared at what was left of her son for a few seconds longer. She sent Bob a stern look.

"Hold him down," she ordered.

Sam stepped away from Will's hospital bed and instead next to Mike. She watched as Bob had to wrap one arm behind Will's neck to force him still, while the other forced him down. It broke Sam's heart, and her vision grew blurry, though she didn't let any of the tears fall. To try and calm herself, she clutched Mike's sleeve anxiously. He eyed Sam with a frown, feeling pained by her guilt.

"No!" Will began thrashing in Bob's strong hold. "No! Let go! N-no! No, LET ME GO! LET GO!" Joyce tried to inject Will with the sedative, but Will threw her off and continued screaming. "LET ME GO!"

Mike was now standing behind Sam, but had wrapped one arm in front of her like a bar. The other hand was holding her bicep closest to him. Sam was clutching his arm in front of her chest as she cried at the sight of Will. Behind her, Mike was equally as traumatized—he wanted to cry too.

"I'm sorry," Joyce said tearfully.

"LET ME GO!" Will still screamed, still threw himself around. "LET ME GO!"

"I'm so sorry," Joyce choked.

She finally got the needle in Will's arm and injected him with the sedative.

"NO!" Will protested when Joyce took the needle away. Sam held Mike's arm tighter, both of them wearing the same, wide-eyed look. "Let go!" Will wheezed, but his voice grew weak and drowsy. "Let me go... Let m'go..."

Then Will was out like a light.

Sam breathed heavily in Mike's arm, feeling his body shaking right behind her. She blinked the wetness of her eyes away so she could see her unconscious and possessed friend. She looked behind and up to meet Mike's stare. She was flooded with the feeling of his pain and fear; it hurt to feel, and she didn't want him to hurt either, so she let his protective arm go.

Hopper and Dr. Owens suddenly burst into the room, panting. Scared, Sam and Mike jumped away from each other, confused as to who or what it could be. Hopper looked more confused though, at the sight of Will knocked out with the sedative.

A growling in the distance snapped him out of it. There were creatures banging on the locked hallway door, about to break through it.

"We gotta go," Hopper exhaled. "We gotta go."

Hopper jumped into action. He took Will's unconscious body and held him bridal style. He also grabbed extra sedative medicine, just in case they would need to knock Will out again.

They all ran out of Will's room, following Hopper's lead. The yellow emergency lights continued to flash on and off as they all stumbled through the corridor. Sam was tripping over her feet, still trying to process everything that was happening.

Hopper suddenly stopped. Loud gunshots made Sam whip her head around—one of the soldiers from the halls was shooting at something. Just before she could see what it was, Mike pulled her into the room everyone else ran into, which happened to be the empty security comms room. Dr. Owens locked the door once everyone was inside.

Hopper laid Will's body on a long desk after shoving everything else off it. Sam watched him do so, wanting to make sure Will was alright—or, as okay as he could be in these circumstances.

"Oh my God," came Bob's voice.

Sam turned to see what he was looking at.

There was a wall of TVs that displayed visuals of the entire lab. In almost every screen were particular creatures from the Upside Down. They weren't humanoid, like a Demogorgon, but they weren't pollywog-looking, like Dart. These creatures were somewhere in between the two: they were Demogorgons that looked like dogs, and they were wreaking havoc across the entire lab. They were slaughtering everyone in their sight.

Sam's hands shot up to her mouth; she had to force herself to look away. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"What the hell are these things?" Bob asked.

And then the lights flickered for a few seconds before the power went off entirely. Sam's breath hitched as the lights and cameras all turned off.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"Look, this is us, and this is the nearest exit," Dr. Owens explained, using a marker and flashlight to show the group a map of the lab. "But even if we somehow make it there, there's no way out."

"What do you mean?"

"The locks are fail secure," Dr. Owens explained to Hopper, who was too stubborn to accept the fact they were trapped.

Joyce's face warped in confusion. "Fail secure?"

"If there's a power outage, the building goes on lockdown."

"Maybe can use Will's body as a battering ram," Sam attempted to joke, but her voice was weak and shaky.

To make it worse, everyone went dead silent, looking at Sam before moving on.

"Can it be unlocked remotely?" Bob asked, with a certain motivation behind his question.

"With a computer, sure," Dr. Owens said, "but somebody's gotta reset the breakers."

"Where are the breakers?" Hopper asked, standing straighter from leaning on the table.

Dr. Owens turned back towards the map, leaning over the table to examine it with his flashlight. "The breakers are in the basement, three floors down."

Hopper grabbed the map, turned around, and clutched his gun. He was about to walk out of the room before Bob stopped him.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To reset the breakers," Hopper said, as if it were obvious.

"Okay, then what?" Bob demanded.

"Then we get the hell out of here."

Bob shook his head adamantly. "No. Then the power comes back on. If you wanna unlock the doors, you have to completely reboot the computer system, and then override the security codes with a manual input."

Hopper blinked back at Bob, not really understanding his language. "...Fine. How do I do that?"

"You can't!" Bob said, incredulous that Hopper was still offering himself up.

Sam stepped forward and next to Bob now that she'd been hit with a sudden realization. "Not unless you know BASIC."

"Basic what?" Hopper shook his head, confused.

"No, it's a computer programming language," Mike explained from the back of the room, in front of where Will's body lay.

"Alright," Hopper said, turning back to Bob, "teach it to me."

Bob scoffed. "Shall I teach you French while I'm at it, Jim? How about a little German?" he snarked. He turned around behind him, nodding to Dr. Owens. "How about you, Doc? You speak BASIC?"

Dr. Owens opened his mouth awkwardly, then just shook his head with a sigh. "No."

"Wait, I know it," Sam declared, making Bob put his attention on her again. "Mr. Bob, you know I know it. You taught me BASIC."

"If you're insinuating what I think you are, kid, then no," Hopper stated.

Sam gaped, angrily offended. "But I know BASIC!"

"You're ten," he shot back. "You're not going out there."

"I'm thirteen!" Sam argued. "And I'll be fourteen in a month!"

Bob frowned. "No, Sam. You're very smart, but I got this."

The determination was hammering in Sam's heart with so much intensity she felt like she was going to explode. This Upside Down creature had Will—the Will she already lost and wasn't about to lose again. She would rather die than let the shadow monster get him. She was willing to move Heaven and Earth if it meant she could be part of the reason he was okay.

"I need to help," she said, her voice firm. "I'm going to help."

"Uh—no you're not," Mike said, walking closer to her. When she show him a contradictory look, he repeated, "No you're not."

"Yes," Sam said, "I am." She wheeled away from him and instead to Bob. "Mr. Bob, come on. I'm going with you."

Bob was very hesitant to answer. He looked down at the girl with the wide, determined eyes and clenched fists. She was clearly not going to back down from this, no matter how much they tried to make her. And—well—Sam was right. She did know BASIC. Bob had taught her that, and she'd caught on quickly, because she was smart. Smarter than any other kid in her age. Sometimes, she was smarter than him.

"Alright." Bob nodded. "We got this."

Hopper's eyes immediately widened. "Hey, no." He shook his head. "Hughes, no. You're staying right here, with us."

"No, I can do it. It's alright. I'm gonna be fine."

Hopper didn't know what to say. She was painfully stubborn—just like her mother had been. He still remembered the look on Sam's face when he had to tell the girl her parents were dead. He still remembered how he felt himself upon finding out he would never see Diane Hughes again. He would never forgive himself if it was his fault the same thing happened to Sam.

But he found himself exhaling heavily and frowning. "Jesus," he huffed, shaking his head. "Come on, then."

"What?!" Mike protested. "No way, you're not seriously letting her go out there!"

Sam tried sending Mike a soothing smile. "Mike, I'll be fine."

"I don't belive that," he said stubbornly.

"I have to do this."

"You do not have to."

"I do," she said. "I'll go crazy if I don't. And I know BASIC anyway, it'll be okay. Just keep Will safe for me while I'm gone, alright?"

Mike shook his head. "Not alright," he said, but it still sounded like he'd just been defeated. "Hughes, I swear to God if you die—"

"You can revive me to say 'I told you so' before killing me again," Sam finished.

Mike glared at her like he didn't want to joke around right now, but he looked a little lighter than before. He moved like he was almost about to hug her, but it was too hard for him too.

"Exactly," he settled on saying.

"It's gonna be okay," Bob was telling Joyce once they let go of their embrace. "Remember: Bob Newby, superhero."

Sam saluted. "And Sam Hughes, sidekick!"

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Sam bit at her thumb nail as she watched Hopper grab the body of a deceased guard. Her chest tightened—the man's abdomen was covered in blood. The body landed in front of where Bob and Sam were crouched at the top of a secluded staircase.

"Grab his walkie," Hopper ordered Bob, who began doing so with shaky hands.

As Bob took the walkie, and he and Sam put on their earpieces, Hopper pried the gun from his arms. He checked that it had bullets, then cocked it in preparation.

"Alright," Hopper said, nodding to Bob. "You know how to use one of these?"

Bob gazed at the gun fearfully, then his eyes traveled up to Hopper with an unfortunate look. The poor man was sweating with how nervous he was. "No."

Sam bit her lip as she watched the two men stare at each other pessimistically. She was speaking up before she could stop herself.

"I do."

Hopper and Bob's heads turned to Sam in unison. At the same time, they incredulously questioned, "What?"

Sam swallowed, nervous under both of their judging stares.

"I do," she repeated, stronger this time. "My... my mom taught me. Before she... you know..."

She ran a finger across her neck, in lack of better words.

Hopper closed his eyes and sighed to himself, because he wasn't surprised that Diane had taught Sam any of that. And, unfortunately, he did remember hearing a tale of Sam shooting at the Demogorgon with a machine gun last year—he'd just always assumed (or hoped) the story wasn't true. When he opened his eyes, he offered out the gun to Sam.

She eyed it in surprise. She hadn't expected him to let her do this.

"Fine," Hopper caved. "You can shoot this. Just be careful."

Sam nodded before she took the gun in her hands, heart pounding. It consumed her thoughts, the present thumping was all around her. She could feel it hammering in her chest, a warning to stop. Then Hopper began fixing Sam's earpiece—it had begun to slip. Her shoulders jumped, and she was snapped from her trance. Her eyes shot his way, and she let her chest fall.

"Be safe, kid," Hopper continued. "Don't be stupid."

Sam nodded. "Okay. I promise."

Hopper was satisfied enough with her answer, although how half-hearted it might have been. His gaze turned away from Sam and instead to Bob now.

"If anything happens down there," Hopper started as Sam began walking down the large flight of stairs, "I want you both to come right back up."

"Right back here," Bob echoed, with an attentive nod. Then, quieter so that Sam couldn't hear, "Listen. Don't wait for me, just make sure Sam is safe. As soon as I get her back with you guys..."

"I'm gonna get her out," Hopper finished for him. "I'm gonna get Sam out. I promise."

"O-okay. Good. I've gotten kinda... fond of her, you know?" He smiled small, thinking of blonde hair and green eyes peering over the Radio Shack counter for months without end.

"She's a Hughes," Hopper said, sharing the sentiment. "It's hard not to be."

"Right." Bob swallowed nervously, nodding shakily. "Okay, well... We'll be in touch."

Sam heard footsteps echoing down the stairs, and she paused, waiting for Bob to catch up to her. The darkness (except for the blaring yellow light) was panic inducing. She swallowed thicky, gripping the gun.

Sam glanced at Bob when he finally caught up to her. He looked more nervous than she did.

"You okay, Mr. Bob?"

"Just fine," he muttered, just as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Now to the basement.

Sam didn't want to look at the guards. They were bloodied, mangled. She kept her gaze straight ahead, like tunnel vision, blocking out the bodies that surrounded her. It didn't help she was already so finicky with blood.

Luckily, they reached the basement soon. Sam carefully pointed the gun as she walked, and Bob was at her side, holding the flashlight for sight, although his hold was shaking. They creeped through the basement together, both members of the pair on edge, until they finally found the breakers.

Bob shined the flashlight on the label that read Main Power, and Sam and Bob shared eye contact.

"I can't reach that, so..." Sam trailed off, nodding for Bob to set off into action and switch the power back on.

Bob huffed a little amused, but Sam had also helped him realize he needed to start moving.

"Okay," he exhaled, focusing his attention onto the breakers, "here we go."

With a grunt, he switched the lever back on. The power started up, bright, overhead lights illuminating onto the pair. Her eyes stung at the sudden blinding of the lights, and she looked away so she wasn't staring straight at them.

"Okay, you two, can you hear us?" Dr. Owens's voice traveled through Sam's earpiece, and she could only assume Bob was hearing the same.

Affirming her theory, Bob's shoulders fell with relief. "Loud and clear, Doc," he breathed. "Can you hear me back?"

Sam found the computer connected to all the electrical functions; she switched it on for Bob as he conversed with Dr. Owens. When she was done, she gestured for Bob to come over to her.

"Yeah, we hear you, alright."

"Alright, give us a minute," Bob said into the walkie, before setting it down onto the table.

He started typing on the computer while Sam kept watch, gun pointed away from Bob in case she needed to protect him. Occasionally, she glanced back at Bob, checking how he was doing with his programming.

Sam watched him click onto the door access with an optimistic smile growing on her face. They might actually make it out of here alive.

Bob picked up the walkie, said, "Open sesame," into it, then clicked on the computer and unlocked all of the doors' accesses throughout the lab—the first floor, second floor, third floor, basement, roof access, and outdoor gate.

"You're so cool, Mr. Bob," Sam muttered in awe.

Bob shrugged with a grin, trying to dismiss the compliment. "Easy peasy," he said. Then, into the walkie, "Alright, we'll meet you outside."

Bob started for the basement's exit door with Sam at his side. They defaulted back to their Bob-with-the-flashlight-and-Sam-pointing-the-gun formation to be careful of what was outside of the basement.

Although, Sam immediately felt that something wasn't right. They hadn't heard back from Dr. Owens either, which was even more worrisome.

Sam stopped both she and Bob from walking. She took the walkie from Bob's hands, asked, "What's going on?"

"We've got some company," Dr. Owens answered hesitantly.

"Where?"

"The west stairwell," he said.

Sam's brain was up and running. If her friends were here, they might have said she was wearing her scheming face.

She stared at nothing in particular as she pushed the walkie back into Bob's hold. "I got an idea," she muttered, pivoting and heading back over to the computer.

Sam stared at the black screen and green letters as she began coding on the computer, using her knowledge of BASIC to get into the system. She hacked into the lab's precautionary and defensive functions, the screen giving her the choice of smoke detectors, carbon monoxide, EMS relay, hydrant valves, or sprinkler system. Sam clicked on the last option, then altered the coding of the sprinkler systems so that they would go off on the first floor in the east corridor. That way, the creatures's attention would be taken elsewhere, it would leave the west stairwell, and Sam and Bob could use their only form of exit.

"And... splash," Sam said, pressing Enter on the computer so that her program ran through.

Now that Bob understood what Sam did, he grinned down at his little prodigy. "You're pretty cool too, Sam. Ever thought about that?"

"Nah," Sam waved him off with a shrug. "I just learn from the best."

"Okay," Dr. Owens said through Sam's earpiece, sounding very astounded. "Okay, that worked! Now, get out of there. Go! Go!"

Sam's heart was slamming against her chest. She hoped only she could hear it, and that the mini Demogorgons couldn't sense fear. Was that possible? There was no way to know. Her mind was just racing.

They ran up the west stairwell back to the first floor, and when they exited it, they once again heard the voice of Dr. Owens in their earpieces.

"Hey, Bob? Sam?"

Bob brought the walkie up to his lips. In a shaky, breathless voice, he asked, "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna guide you, okay?"

That didn't sound remotely good at all. Sam and Bob shared worried glances from the end of the hallway they stood at.

"Is there a problem?" Bob wondered into the walkie.

"No, it's just... It's, uh, getting a little crowded up here," Dr. Owens dismissed, but Sam didn't really believe him. "We're gonna have to take this slow."

Bob took deep breaths in and out, because if he couldn't even calm himself for Sam, couldn't even calm himself to get through a lab, then what good was he?

"Okay," he forced himself to say.

"Alright, just start walking."

So Sam and Bob did. They didn't need the flashlight anymore, considering Bob had turned the power back on, but they still needed the gun. Sam held it out in front of her in case she needed to shoot—but she didn't know how she was going to shoot anything with how massively her hands were shaking. She was so, so afraid. She'd argued she was thirteen, but she was really only that. Only thirteen.

The metal of the gun had started clattering together due to how hard Sam's hands were shaking, which made Bob eye her hands in concern.

"You okay, kid?" he asked softly.

Sam swallowed, glancing at Bob for only a second.

Alright, Sammy, you got it. Just take the safety off and cock it... That's my girl. Deep breath in, hold to aim, slow breath out, and shoot...

Sam inhaled a deep breath, steadying the gun and holding to aim. Then, for Bob, she nodded more firmly this time.

"Yeah," she breathed out slowly. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Okay, good," came the voice of Dr. Owens once they reached the other end of the hallway. Sam and Bob turned left, then walked down the new corridor they turned down.

"Okay, now, your next right."

Sam and Bob turned right this time, following Dr. Owens's instructions. Sam's breath hitched when she saw numerous dead corpses down this particular hall, covered in blood and illuminated by the yellow lighting. Still, she kept her gun pointed. When her hands would begin shaking too much, she would hear her mother in her head again, telling her to take a deep breath in.

"Now, keep going, keep going, keep going..."

Sam and Bob picked up the pace now, jogging instead of slowly walking. They kept glancing behind themselves anxiously, making sure they weren't being followed, then glancing in front of themselves, making sure they wouldn't be caught off guard by a dog-like Demogorgon. They reached the end of the hallway when—

"Stop!"

His words sent a weight down the pit of Sam's stomach. They halted, breaths shaking.

Sam clutched the gun tighter. "What's wrong?" she muttered, voice barely audible.

Dr. Owens's silence told them enough. Bob's eyes shot left, and he didn't even hesitate. He grabbed Sam by the arm, pulled the closet door open, and forced them both into it. Shutting it silently, Sam pressed a hand to her mouth.

She could hear the Demogorgon dog outside. It made a sickening gurgling noise.

Sam worried the creature would be able to smell the scent of Sam and Bob, not knowing if it functioned the same as a real Demogorgon or not—Demogorgons were shark-like and able to smell blood, and they couldn't take those chances right now.

Spotting an unopened bottle of ammonium, Sam set down her gun on the shelf and picked up the bottle with shaking hands. It took her a second to unscrew it, because her hands were so unstable, but eventually she did.

Sam poured the ammonium on the tiled floor right near the bottom of the door to mask Sam and/or Bob's possible scents. Bob sent Sam an impressed and grateful look, to which she nodded back at.

She picked the gun back up, holding it in precaution again, aiming right at the door just in case.

The creature chittered, and they could hear its footsteps from outside the door—heavy, brooding footsteps. Then... silence. The Demogorgon dog had passed. Sam's ammonium trick worked.

She felt like she could breathe again. She shared a pleased look with Bob.

"You two holding up alright?" Dr. Owens asked, now that the Demogorgon dog was safely gone. "You got a pretty clear shot to the front door. You can do this, okay? You're almost home free."

Bob hovered a hand over the doorknob. He turned it slowly, mustering up the courage to step out first. He was hesitant with it, and so clumsy.

Through her peripheral, Sam could see the broom slip.

She reached for it, but the wooden handle barely grazed her fingertips. It crashed against the tile floor and splashed into the ammonium, as if in slow motion. The clatter sent sound waves through the empty building.

Sam's jaw was agape. She wasn't thinking. Dr. Owens's simple word ran through her mind: "RUN!"

They didn't waste any time. Sam and Bob ran down the dark halls, Sam running as fast as her little legs could carry her. Her chest was on fire, her mind was on fire, her legs were on fire. Sam didn't breathe, she just ran.

She cocked the gun and turned back to the creature. She shot twice—but it barely had any effect on the Demogorgon dog. Her shoulders ached from the power of the handgun, but it didn't stop her from running. Bob pushed the last door open, held it, and waited. With the Demogorgon dog on her trail, Sam pushed her legs faster, right through the last door Bob had held open.

Bob slammed it shut behind them, locking it quickly and keeping the Demogorgon dog out.

Sam and Bob could hear the creature screeching from the other side, slamming into the door and trying to get through. It couldn't. They let out simultaneous breaths of relief, Bob pulling Sam into an unexpected but well-deserved hug. Sam accepted the hug gratefully, returning the embrace with her arms around him. She hadn't been hugged like this since her parents died.

"Bob! Sam!"

Hearing the voice of Joyce, Sam and Bob pulled away from each other. They turned around to see Joyce standing near the doors to the exit. They'd made it! They were actually going to make it out of here alive!

Bob smiled at Joyce, overcome by the fact they'd found each other.

But then his expression went slack with horror, eyes fixed somewhere behind Sam.

"SAM, WATCH O—"

She didn't catch the last word as she turned around, just barely seeing it before it hit her—

Sam cried out as a big gray something barreled through the hospital doors and into her, slamming her back into the ground hard.

There was a second where everything seemed to freeze. There was Bob and Joyce simultaneously yelling out in horror, and there was the Demogorgon dog, claws pressing her into the ground, gaping flower-shaped maw hovering right above her. This only lasted a second though, before everything came rushing back to real speed.

Sam finally remembered she was literally the only one in the lobby with a weapon in her hand. Through her panic, through her cries, Sam held the gun with two hands and just started fucking shooting like her life depended on it. Because it did.

But hot white pain shot through her side, and Sam screamed as the Demogorgon dog's teeth dug into her, clamping down and tearing the flesh with a sickening ripping sound that brought bile to Sam's throat. The gun clattered out of her hands, and Sam couldn't do anything about it.

Her shout was different this time. It was a sob, heavy and emotional, a beg for help.

Her hands came up uselessly to defend herself, gun lying somewhere to her right, but she couldn't move, couldn't do anything but get mauled by a—a fucking literal hellhound.

Sam was screaming in piercing pain, tears running down her face. She'd never screamed so loud in her life. I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die. She was so desperate that her dazed state had her begging the creature to get off.

"PLEASE! PLEASE STOP, I'M SORRY! I-I'M SORRY—" but she was cut off by a blood-curdling shriek that pushed past her lips and came straight from her gut. The sound was laced with pain and horror. The torture had become raw and consuming.

The next part happened in a blur. Suddenly, somehow, someone was tackling the monster in Sam's wake, forcing the creature off of her. The moment the force was no longer pinning Sam to the ground, she was flailing and kicking away, scrambling backwards. Her hands automatically shot to her side, pressing down, and her breaths came in heaving gasps. The pain felt like it was digging into every nerve in her body, and Sam grit her teeth, trying to blink away the colorful spots blossoming across her vision.

She was able to see who had sacrificed himself for her in a mess of blood tears.

"NO!" Sam reached for him. "BOB!"

Hopper was wrapping his arms around her. Sam tried to pull away as she shouted and cried.

"DON'T LEAVE HIM! NO!" she sobbed, fighting back.

The colorful spots were taking over her vision again, and Sam began slumping over, but she had to stay awake for Bob. They couldn't leave him there. They had to save him.

Sam screamed bloody murder, tears rolling down her face at an unrelenting pace. She pushed forward, trying to either make it for Bob or her gun, but she was much too weak. Hopper was wrenching Sam out of the hospital as her mind went hazy again.

There was a moment of nothing. Her vision went dark, and she couldn't feel.

When Sam came to, she felt everything. The passing of time couldn't have been long—she was in the backseat of the chief's truck. A cry left her throat; the burning in her torso was unbearable. She wailed, warm tears spilling down her face.

"—am! Sam!" Her eyes refocused at the sound of Lucas's shaking voice, finding his face above her. "Oh God, Sam! Sam! Stay—stay awake!"

Someone shoved something hard into the tear in her side. Sam cried out louder, back arching and body automatically trying to twist and pull away, but strong hands kept her pinned in place.

"Keep holding that to the wound," fucking Steve Harrington's shaky voice advised Lucas from the other side of Sam. He was holding Sam down, in the backseat with her too. There was also Corey, Dustin, and somehow Max, but Sam's brain was too foggy to process the absurdity of that right now.

"Don't you see I'm doing that?" Lucas snapped, taking a moment to glare at Steve.

Sam shut her eyes tight, trying to remember any of the many first aid tips she knew she knew, failed. She tried to stop crying, failed. She tried to focus on slowing her breathing to a more normal pace.

In.

Lucas was saying something, words echoing and bouncing around in her head.

Out.

Sam's nails were digging into the seat of the car.

In.

Max was taking her jacket off, folding it, and, like Lucas, pressing hard into Sam's open wound.

Out.

Sam's eyes shut again, tried to put her pain in a little box in her head or whatever the fuck that strategy was. It... was completely ineffective.

In.

Slowly, Sam reopened her eyes, peering up at Lucas, who was fretting the most over her injury. It made her huff in amusement, but also because she was just grateful that her friends were here with her right now. She hissed at the pain the laugh brought her, but it also gave her an idea.

"Well th-this is... a hole new gaping is-sue."

Lucas's gaze jerked to Sam's eyes at the sound of her voice, and his hands accidentally jolted, which made Sam hiss in pain.

"A-am I... I gonna make it... Dr. Sinclair?"

It was mostly a joke. Mostly. But there was still that note of raw fear in her voice, no matter how much she tried to get it out.

"Stop fucking joking, Sam," Lucas said weakly. There were tears on his face, but Sam was pleased to note that her stupid joke had brought a hint of a relief to his body.

"You think I'm... hil-hilarious," Sam wheezed, and then the Earth seemed to spin underneath her.

She groaned, one hand fumbling up to wipe whatever was in her eyes away. Nothing happened when she rubbed at them, except for the fact that she smeared thick blood over her face. Great.

"Sam!" Corey leaned over her, eyes big and worried.

"Oh shit, oh shit," Lucas muttered. "Sam, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Sam squinted. She knew that she should be able to count the fingers—it should be easy through her spotty and blurred vision. But every time she tried, the thoughts just slid away from her like oil on water. Lucas... looked really pretty. And really, really afraid.

"Don't... be scared," Sam slurred, lifting an arm a few inches in an attempt to hold him before letting it fall back to the seat.

Lucas laughed hysterically. "Don't be scared? Sam, you're bleeding out!"

"Oh," she mumbled. Her eyes started to slide shit, before she was no longer able to see Lucas again. It was very confusing to Sam for some reason, because she had just been looking at her best friend.

Well, she was confused, until she heard Dustin:

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! SHE'S FALLING ASLEEP AGAIN, HOPPER!" he yelled worriedly. "HOLY SHIT, SHE'S GONNA DIE!"

Then a smacking sound.

Then Max hissing, "Don't say that kind of shit, Dustin!"

Then Steve Harrington's voice, "Hey, kid, you have to stay awake. Stay awake, kid, come on!"

They made a sharp turn. Sam jolted in pain. Corey's chest heaved.

"What happened?" he asked, voice cracking. There was a heavy silence, and the air was filled with only Sam's breathing. When Hopper didn't reply, Corey repeated himself. "JIM HOPPER! What happened?"

Hopper took a shaky breath.

"We need to get her back to the Byers house." His voice was coated with anxiety. "Now."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Published: January 14, 2024
Re-published: October 30, 2025

BAILEY YAPS...

So. Sorry.

I really don't know what to say except I love Bob so much and I've always admired his bravery and trust and selflessness. His death literally kills me EVERY time. So I figured what way to make it sadder but to make Bob a father figure for Sam right before killing him off.

Sorry. Bad timing.

No actually let's talk about bad timing. Sam with the jokes while she's literally bleeding out just because she wants Lucas to smile oh my god she's so insane. And she wasn't aware enough to repress her unwelcome emotions so all she could focus on was how pretty Lucas was. Yeah Sam I clocked that