CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO.
4x09: The Piggyback

Warning:
Buckle in

There were a lot of things that Maxine Grace Mayfield didn't know in this world.

One of them, of course, was still how Sam even knew Max's middle name to begin with. Sam did know a lot in this world, and Max was very aware of that. From the first time she met Sam, Max knew she was different when she started spewing out about time zones and video games.

Max didn't know a lot, but she knew about Sam.

Sam Hughes was funny, and she was kind, and she was smart. She somehow had the capability to make everyone around her feel warm inside, and Max was sure it wasn't even attributed to her empathetic abilities. When Max came to Hawkins, she was lost in the dark, but all she had to do was befriend Sam to find the light.

She had currently found the light now, in the comfort of Sam's bedroom.

Max couldn't help Sam's room from being Max's favorite memory—all of the best parts of Max's life had occurred here. Their first sleepover had gone down in a different room—considering Sam had moved after the fact—but being here still meant Sam and light. All Max had to do was imagine Sam's sunshine-patterned curtains; her pastel pink, yellow, and blue patterned comforter; her glow in the dark stars stuck to her ceiling. Then suddenly she was there. She listened to "Rhiannon" coming from Sam's cassette player, as it was the same song playing when all of Max, Sam, and El had their sleepover together.

Or, it was playing "Rhiannon." That was, until, "Dream A Little Dream of Me" started playing.

Suddenly all the happiness from Sam's room disappeared. The warmth turned cold. Everything good turned bad. Blood was oozing down the sides of her walls, covering the colorful wallpaper with red crimson. It stained Sam's sheets, her carpet, Max's shoes. It was so wrong.

Since then, Max had tried to dull her panic to a low medium. Her head whipped towards Sam's closed bedroom door, and she formed a plan so quick that Sam would be proud; Max locked the door first, just in case Vecna's purview of powers didn't cover the capability of breaking open a door.

Then she started barricading Sam's room with literally everything she possibly could—dressers, vanities, mirrors, desks, chairs, her mattress. Everything. The floor of Sam's room was essentially cleared of all that was inside, except for the stool Sam used to reach the top of her closet with.

Max picked it up from the bloodied floor. She turned back around to add it to the pile of things barricading Sam's door—

It was all gone.

Sam's door was replaced with an old door that harbored a stained-glass rose in the middle.

The door of the Creel house.

Max's breath caught in her throat, and all she could do was stare at the stained glass, terrified. The stool accidentally dropped from her hands when her grip went slack. Terror overtook her entire being, paralyzing her in the spot.

Suddenly, the door to the Creel house began creaking; Max could see the doorknob was jiggling.

A clock chimed. Outside Sam's window, a dark storm with red lightning flashed. The door cracked open with a low whine.

"You can't hide from me, Max..." the low, grovely voice of Vecna prowled from somewhere in the unknown.

Max was struck with the reminder to breathe, but it was a sharp gasping thing. She looked behind herself, only to find that Sam's room was completely cleared now—only Max was inside, and the walls were rotting now, blood tainting everything left.

Thunder crashed outside, and red lightning lit Max's face up, if only for a second.

Max tried swallowing her fear, tried stabilizing her breathing again. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she allowed her mind to wander again.

Sam trying to learn how to ride a skateboard. Lucas sneaking Max out of her house from the side. Dustin hissing at Max to meet with him in the AV room at lunch. Corey dancing with Max at the Snow Ball—

"You think I don't see what you're doing?"

Sam trying to get out of bed to answer her stupid walkie. El wrapping her arms around Sam's torso and preventing her from doing so. Max joining them, throwing an arm and a leg over Sam's body.

"You think I don't see everything?"

Jason Carver cocking a gun in the Creel attic, lit up by the blue lanterns. Lucas holding his hands out in defense, pleading Jason to stop.

"You thought you could trick me?"

Robin and Nancy being pinned to the wall of the house in the Upside Down by the black, living vines. Dustin and Eddie screaming in terror at the Demobats threatening them.

"You thought your friends could stop me?"

Hopper, alive, being chased by a Demodog in Russia. Steve trying to hack Robin free with his axe, and Auggie trying to do the same to Nancy with the nail bat.

"I see them."

The Demobats flying into the trailer that Dustin and Eddie were supposed to be safe in, but were protected no more.

"I see your friends."

A tentacle latching onto Auggie's bad ankle, and Auggie crying out in all-encompassing pain. The nail bat falling from his hands, the living vines dragging him away from helping Nancy. He was being pried to the wall as well.

"Just as clearly..."

All of Auggie, Robin, Steve, and Nancy were being held against the wall of the staircase now. Dustin was back in the real world now, and for some reason the rope at Eddie's Gate was cut. He was screaming and sobbing up at it, begging Eddie to stop.

"...as I..."

Justin Zimmerman and Carrie Cunningham driving on their way to find Sam's location. "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac coming on the radio. Justin having to shut it off, because he absolutely loathed the song now.

"... see you."

Eddie leading the bats away, sacrificing himself. The four, older teenagers being choked to death. Sam's body in the real world, vulnerable in her trance, blood pouring out her nose.

"I can feel them," Vecna growled. "I can feel them... dying."

The clock chimed again. Max's eyes snapped open. The Creel door to exit Sam's room was now wide open.

"It's time, Max."

Max tried escaping Sam's now-desolate room, hoping she could find a way out of this waking nightmare like she had done so before. But "Dream a Little Dream of Me" was following Max as she sprinted, in a warped tune, like someone was slowing down a record player. She ended up in Sam's quaint living room, but even that was destitute due to how Vecna was distorting her good memory.

Max turned in a circle, her breaths speeding up in fear. She faced the kitchen that overlooked the living room, trying to think hard of another good memory—that time she and Sam stayed up and baked a cake for Corey's birthday.

"It's time."

This time, Vecna's voice was coming from right behind her. Max whipped around in fear, finding that Vecna was right behind her. She screamed in horror, but she didn't have any time to defend herself.

Vecna stuck out a hand in the same way El did when she used her powers.

Then, Max was flying back in the air.

She yelled and yelled, and she shot back and back. She continued flying backwards until her back hit the wall of the living room. She cried out in pain, her arms, legs, and head pinned against the wall. Everywhere hurt, her body was being strained, and she was overcome with the strong urge not to die, but she couldn't do anything about it.

Vecna's thudding footsteps leered closer as he started to make his way to her. Max whimpered in pain, but it was all she could do with the way Vecna had her glued against the wall.

Max struggled, trying to pry herself off of Sam's living room wall. It was no use, and she was forced to do nothing but watch as Vecna stepped over her coffee table. Nothing could prevent Vecna from walking just inches from Max's face. Max, whose expression was wrenched up in fear. Max, who tried turning her head as far away from Vecna as she could.

"You are brave, Maxine," Vecna said. He tilted his head in that calculating way he always used. Because of how he was forcing her against the wall, they were eye-level right now. She sucked in sharp gasps. "Much braver than your brother. But in the end... you are weak—and fragile, just like him. Like all the rest of them. And you... will... break."

Vecna's body groaned as his arm started into motion again. Max's breaths grew even more rapid, more fearful, as she noted he was bringing up his long, clawed hand.

Against Max's will, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as Vecna's hand hovered in front of her face—

The presence was gone as soon as it came, and suddenly Max was falling off the wall in a heap.

Vecna was being flown across the room, stopping to hover in the middle of Sam's living room. His posture was the same as the one he had forced Max into, except there wasn't a wall for his back to be up against. He yelled out in excruciating jittering pain, jaw chattering and buzzing.

Max's head turned up, and that was when she saw it.

Sam Hughes and El Hopper had just shown up and saved her life—they were glaring up at Vecna with identical, terrifying eyes.

While El used her telekinetic powers on him with a hand sticking out, Sam was electrocuting him simultaneously; her fists were clenched at her sides, and her eyes narrowed up at Vecna past her flower crown. Blood was trickling down both of their noses, but nothing seemed to deter them in this point of focus.

Vecna panted and yelped, an electric blue field surrounding him and zapping him. Sam and El had snuck up behind, so with El's arm still outstretched, she used her powers to turn Vecna's body around and face the two girls.

"Y-you two," Vecna sneered angrily, still jolting at the electrocution.

El's look was unwavering.

"Hi," she stated.

Sam glowered. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Max watched as El threw Vecna out the back door.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

El ran for Max first, as Sam held back for just a second so that she could electrocute Vecna further. Max was still straining under the power she'd endured from Henry, so El helped Max stand up—albeit, a very confused Max.

El held onto Max's shoulders worriedly. "Max! Are you okay?"

Max panted, in and out Her eyes darted around El's face in bafflement.

"Huh?" she breathed.

"Are you okay?" El asked again, pulling a face of the utmost concern.

"Yeah," Max panted. As El's arms moved down to hold Max's biceps, Max's hands clutched onto El's arms. One hand moved up to feel her head, her cheek, her face. "Are you... are you real? D-did I make you?"

El's gaze softened. She moved her arms so that both of her hands were holding one of Max's.

"I'm real," she assured.

"How?!"

"I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer," El said blankly, ignoring the confused furrow of Max's brows.

Sam finally caught up to them, interrupting the girls' moment with a small, playful smile.

"Yeah, it's confusing," Sam said lightly, "but she's here."

Max sucked in a gasp.

"Sam!" she muttered, and then she was launching herself at Sam in a worried hug. Sam instinctively brought up her arms to return the embrace—with all the hugging going on as of late, she'd predicted it coming.

Sam held onto Max, tighter.

"I like your happiest memory," she commented, only partially teasing.

"Your house looked a lot nicer before your evil uncle came in and ruined it," Max teased her right back.

Sam huffed, amused. "Well if I had a nickel for every evil uncle I had..."

Both Max and El got a kick out of that one. Sam squeezed Max firmly one last time before she was pulling away. She got a better look at Max—if Henry had done any damage to her, she was actually going to go insane on him. Luckily, Max looked physically fine. On the other hand, Max was inspecting Sam too.

Then her face morphed into utter fear.

"You've gotta get out of here, sunshine." Max was panicking now. "Vecna—I saw—He showed me—Justin and Carrie, they're on their way to you. Right now. You have to run—"

"What?" El questioned. "What's going on?"

Sam shook her head, rubbing the sides of Max's arms in an assuring manner. "Max, I'm not leaving you here. I'm gonna be fine, okay? We've gotta worry about you."

Max shook her head. "Sam—"

But there was the sound of glass clinking together, pieces moving around. All three girls looked to where El had thrown Vecna out the back—they'd shattered the sliding door made of glass. Seemingly, Henry had recovered. He was walking through the piercing glass with a low, rumbling exhale.

Sam and El stood in front of Max protectively.

"Stay back," Sam demanded.

She and El walked forward to meet Vecna again.

The three of them ended up in the middle of Sam's living room, Sam and El a few feet away from a glaring Henry.

"If you touch her again, I will kill you again," El seethed.

"Is that what you think you did? Hmm?" Vecna asked. He tilted his head, vines on his body creaking as he did so. "Did you kill me? I am so glad you are here, Eleven. This... is going to be... beautiful."

Thunder struck outside again, lightning flashed, and Sam had enough wit to be wary of what was about to come.

Henry was suddenly raising all the shattered pieces of glass in the air behind him, pointing the shards at the two girls before him. Sam's breath was caught in her throat, as if there was already glass wedged inside.

"So beautiful," he emphasized.

And Sam was a quick thinker, but she didn't even need to think right now. Her powers were nowhere capable of stopping a million shattered pieces of glass from impaling her to death. Sam couldn't do much, so she just stood in front of Max and took a deep breath.

"And it's all thanks to you."

Then, Vecna sent the fragmented glass forward. It went flying at Sam and El. Luckily though, El did have the capability to do something about it. She swiped her hand to the right, and the shards of glass were redirected away from the girls. Like darts, they lodged themselves into a family photo of Sam, Corey, Steph, and Aunt Kat.

Sam was so captivated by that, she didn't have time to register the fact the Henry shot out his hand again. He sent El flying backwards, straight for the kitchen painfully. She was knocked out, quick, and then Vecna did the same thing with Max. Their bodies collapsed on the pots, pans, glass, and furniture together.

Both Max and El were unconscious in her kitchen.

Henry took a step closer. Sam didn't fail to be vigilant this time.

Sam conjured a ball of lightning in her hands before she was shooting her hands forward, sending the electricity flying at Vecna. It hit him, shocking him in more ways than one, and his deformed figure fell back.

"So, I take it you're angry with me," Vecna groveled, trying to recuperate from her strike.

Sam lunged for him, blue electricity swarming around her. She slammed her foot against Henry's stomach, reveling in the sickening crunch that came with his head cracking against her house's mantle. Her forearm was at his throat in an instant, holding him against the mantle as firm as her young strength could find it possible. Blood dripped out of her nostrils.

"A little," Sam admitted.

But then Vecna grabbed a hold of the arm holding him back and put it down back by Sam's side.

"Oh, Samantha," he mused, tiling his head. "Has anyone ever told you how alike you are to your mother?"

"Once or twice," Sam commented, trying to contain her anger. She eyed his deformed hand holding hers, let her head crane up to glare at him.

Vecna smiled, amused. "They never knew her like I did. You have the same mind, did you know?"

"Is that a compliment?" Sam asked. "Because she was smart enough to trick your dumbass from killing her."

Henry squeezed her wrist tighter.

"I was talking about your thoughts," he elaborated, clearly agitated by her comment. "All of these nice, happy displays the two of you would put on, just for no one to know how dark your minds truly are. Some kids just have tragedy in their blood."

Sam's face screwed up, trying not to be affected. She shook her head stubbornly. "You just see the dark in everything. That's a fault of yours, not ours."

And Vecna was grinning again, and Sam hated it.

"You forget I've been in there, Samantha." He peered his head down, speaking into her ear. "What would your friends say if they saw half of what I did?"

A blast of lightning threw him off.

Sam felt at her wrist, riveting in the feeling of it being free from Henry's demented grip. There was a slight wetness on her skin from the sliminess that came from her uncle. As he began to stand back up, having to recover for the nth time, Sam saw it then—hell, she was an Empath. She felt it.

He was terrified.

Sam laughed, incredulously and hollowly.

"Holy shit!" she cursed.

Vecna scowled. "What?"

"You're afraid of me," Sam realized. "You are afraid of what I am and what I have. And that pisses you off, doesn't it? It angers you to know what I am, you can never be. What you take, I predict. What you hurt, I heal." She felt the electricity running in her veins, she heard Lucas's voice in her ear, telling her to let everything in. "I'm your opposite. And I'm better than you."

Vecna began to laugh, but it was a grovely sound.

"You are nothing," he scorned. He stopped walking and nodded behind Sam as a whirring noise sounded from behind her. "Allow me to prove it."

Sam glanced around to see that Henry was changing the scenery of Max's memory. A red fog was overtaking Sam's living room, and they were being transferred from Max's brain to Vecna's. It was his mindscape, with the broken Creel house and red all around.

Sam looked back toward him with a teasing smile. "Permission granted, Uncle Creel."

One day, Sam would start taking these situations seriously.

Vecna lunged.

He and his arms shot forward, and from behind Sam, she knew that he was calling upon his living vines. They rose from the squelching ground and started towards her. She ducked, and he accidentally made them wrap around himself. She electrocuted the writhing creatures, panting in unison with her uncle.

He growled in anger as he realized she evaded his plan.

Sam didn't waste any time. She shot his person with an electric shock this time, vines on his own skin charring. Henry landed in the pool of liquid on the floor of his own mindscape. Red fog surrounded them, and there was a sudden realization by the both of them.

Sam was making his domain her own.

She slowly walked toward him, staring down. The flower crown remained on her head, and she knew in the back of her mind that there was some irony in that.

Sam electrocuted him.

"Saman—"

She did it again.

"You won't—"

Lightning coursed around her.

"Y-you won't win—"

It threatened to course around him too.

"Listen—" Vecna tried, shakily standing up.

"I'm done listening to your bullshit." Sam swished her arm again, this time managing to rip a few of the tentacles running up his neck.

They did not grow back.

Henry felt his neck, as if he was Will sensing the Mind Flayer. His brows furrowed with confusion. "Why did that hurt?" he asked no one in particular. He lowered his eyes to Sam, and his confusion turned to fury. "What have you done?"

Sam didn't answer him. All she really found herself wanting to say was, "You are... an idiot." It was said as a realization, and her following laugh was condescending. "Okay, hold still, Henry. Let me show you how alike we are."

Vecna made to raise his hand, perhaps to conjure more vines or attempt to throw Sam into another nightmare. Sam's hand shot out, gripping his wrist and twisting. The electricity around her transferred to him, and he was being electrocuted again. She leaned in to watch his discomfort turn to pain, turn to panic, as he struggled to free himself from her crushing hold.

"Little spider," Sam joked, "caught in your own web."

"You th-think th-this fazes... me?" Henry demanded, still trying to pull his wrist away, still jolting from the lighting. "Do you th-think I'm—I'm afraid... of you?"

Sam looked at Henry with the eyes of his sister taken too soon.

"Yes," she admitted. "I think you are."

Vecna snarled. An animal cornered. "You forget you're a measly child. You don't know what you're doing. You've tried to use your powers before. You've always failed. Always."

"Always?" she echoed.

Sam used her electricity to pin him against one of his own destitute pillars. Its blackened color was only lit up by Sam's electric blue powers. Red lightning flashed ahead, but she paid no mind.

"You know what, I think I get it now," Sam started, annoyingly casual. "You don't really have the luxury of indulging yourself, do you? In all this—the killings, the suffering, the Gates? Because you're afraid. You're scared shitless. You've known me since I was born, and you've known El since she was made. You've always known that we were the only people capable of breaking you—you're not this superior entity from humans at all, not as long as we're alive!" She huffed. "And before I could even try, could even understand what these abilities were, you ran. You pretended it was all some silly little game to you. You sculpted worlds, monsters, and dimensions, just to keep us from seeing you squirm. Because you're a coward. That's what you are, Henry. You're a goddamned coward!"

"Take that back," Henry whispered. "Take that back... right now."

"Make me," Sam dared, having fun now. "Oh, wait, you can't—"

Then the gunshot rang out.

Then the mindscape faded around Sam.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Sam gasped in a large breath, her subconscious rushing to her. Before she knew it, the void was no longer. She ripped the camouflage bandana right off her eyes quickly, heaving in and out with rapid pants.

Sam had heard a gunshot. She'd heard it. It wasn't coming from the void, it had to be coming from the trailer.

But all she could hear was AC/DC on the radio.

        "Livin' easy, lovin' free!"

Sam didn't understand—there was a cold constriction of her chest. Something wrong was happening, that she knew, but her brain wasn't working quick enough to catch up. She grappled blindly for the gun Nancy had purchased for her; she'd set it right next to her before she went in the void, but for some reason, her hand couldn't latch onto it right now.

"Stand up, Sam," a stern voice ordered.

Sam's heart dropped.

She looked to the side.

Justin was pointing Sam's gun right at Sam's head.

Carrie was right beside him, stiff as a board.

        "Season ticket on a one-way ride!"

"No," Sam let out a weak breath, but it wasn't an argument. A plead, maybe. It was the foolish and naive desire this couldn't be happening—this wasn't her situation. Justin and Carrie weren't here, they didn't want to hurt Sam.

Sam looked over her right shoulder.

There was a hole straight through the stolen trailer where the bullet penetrated. The bullet Justin shot.

        "Askin' nothin, leave me be
        Takin' everything in my stride!"

"Get the fuck up, Sam," Justin ordered, holding the gun firmer.

And at fifteen years old, Sam Hughes was the oldest she'd ever been. But she'd never felt so young.

"Wait a second," Sam begged, holding her hands up on either side of her head to signify innocence. She dropped the bandana from her hand without realizing. She couldn't focus on anything but the all-encompassing fear that could only be felt under gunpoint by her ex-boyfriend.

"You're not making the calls here," Justin sneered.

        "Don't need reason, don't need rhyme!"

He jolted forward in a way that terrified Sam to her very core. Complying to Justin's wishes, she shot up out of the driver's seat and stood to face him.

This couldn't be happening.

"What the fuck's been going on here, Hughes?" Justin asked. Hughes had never sounded so ugly.

Sam shook her head, face wrenching up; she wasn't usually a slow thinker, but Justin had the power to get that sliver of her out.

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"My sister!" Carrie cried, and Sam could immediately feel the mental instability wafting off of the girl. "You and your little cult killed Chrissy! And Fred! And Patrick!"

        "Goin' down, party time!"

"I'm not in Hellfire!" Sam argued back, for maybe the millionth time in the past week. "And if I was, Hellfire still wouldn't be responsible! Why... Why would you think I'm involved in this?"

Justin's lip curled cruelly, and Sam watched his fingers twitch contemplatively on the gun. "I think you've been involved with a lot of stuff for a while. I don't know how I didn't work things out until now."

        "My friends are gonna be there too, yeah!"

Sam, still with her hands in the air defensively, shrugged like the answer should be obvious.

"It's like you said, isn't it?" she breathed, raising an eyebrow. "You're a stupid ass jock who depended on me to lend you brain cells—?"

Carrie lunged for her.

Another gunshot rang out.

        "I'm on the highway to hell!"

At first, Sam didn't feel anything. All she knew was the fact that she was being tackled, her back slamming into the floor of the walkway in the trailer. Her flower crown flew off her head, and Sam knew once more this was another metaphor for innocence being lost.

        "On the highway to hell!"

Sam cried out at the force of Carrie Cunningham attacking her with such ferocity, or maybe she was crying for some reason else entirely. She immediately tried scrambling away, stupidly attempting to head to the back of the trailer. Carrie's hands latched onto Sam's ankle and dragged her back. Sam could fight, she knew she could, but for some reason Sam's morals wouldn't compel her to touch a hair on even Carrie's head. Carrie had tormented Sam for years, and yet, even when Sam's life was on the line, she was too caring to return the malice.

        "Highway to hell
        I'm on the highway to hell!"

Carrie forced Sam up into a sitting position, her back up against one of the kitchen cabinets in the trailer. Sam's head whipped to the side hurriedly, only to find Justin was standing a few feet away; he was still aiming the gun right at Sam. She looked back forward, wheezing out with an aching burn in her lungs. Carrie had one hand around Sam's neck, pinning it against the wooden furniture. Sam blinked, and her vision was blurry, but she sluggishly saw Carrie's other arm was moving. She pressed that hand against Sam's right bicep, and Sam screamed.

Her head whipped down to find her sleeve was being coated in throbbing red blood. It was sourcing from her bicep, which was numb with mind-altering pain. Her mind was hazy, and so was her eyesight, but Sam had enough sense to figure out she'd been shot. She had been shot by Justin Zimmerman with her own gun.

        "No stop signs, speed limit!"

He had shot her.

She was losing blood, quick.

"W-wait," Sam stammered, trying to breathe. "Just... Just wait..."

She couldn't move her bicep, not even if Carrie wasn't pressing her down. It hurt, and the gunshot filled her arm up with lead. Every breath was a pained wince.

"What the hell were you just doing?" Justin glared from behind the gun. "With that blindfold over your eyes?"

"Justin, please," Sam wheezed, arms grappling to help Carrie apply pressure to her bicep. Carrie still had another hand around her neck, and everything was at a constant state of hurt.

        "Nobody's gonna slow me down!"

"I'm not fucking around Sam, WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"

He pulled the trigger again to the right Sam, just for emphasis. Just to scare her. The bullet shot straight through the window; glass shattered and fell atop Sam's head. Her face screwed up, and she choked out a sob.

Would it even matter if she made it out of here? What would be left of her if she did?

        "Like a wheel, gonna spin it!"

"You want the whole truth?!" Sam snapped, steadily growing unstable. "My mom is actually the sister of the interdimensional wizard who killed Victor Creel's family and now he's back, killing innocent teenagers so he can open Gates and destroy the entire world!" Then, "Is that what you wanted to fucking hear?!"

Justin startled, for just a second, but then his eyes narrowed into a glare again.

"You're insane."

Sam's head fell back onto the cabinet tiredly, miserably. Justin was the one who shot her, Carrie was the one pinning her bleeding body, and yet, somehow, Sam was the crazy one here.

What was the point of trying?

        "Nobody's gonna mess me around!"

Some kids just have tragedy in their blood, Vecna had told her. Giving in would just prove him right—prove she and her mother were only dark on the inside.

Carrie's grip pressed harder, and tears that Sam didn't even know where there fell down her cheeks.

Sam's head lazily turned from Justin to Carrie. The sight of Carrie made Sam tear up even more.

        "Hey Satan, payin' my dues!"

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, mouth ghosting words. She eventually managed to murmur, "I'm—so sorry about Chrissy. I'm so... so... sorry, Carrie." Her voice cracked, and a new emotion was emitted from Chrissy. Surprise, maybe. Out of bewilderment, her grip on Sam's neck and bicep strengthened. Sam gasped, but continued, "Chrissy was nice. She was—really nice. Every time she had an... an... an announcement about the ch-cheerleaders for.... us to give, she'd come in the AV room and ask how we were."

        "Playin' in a rocking band!"

Sam let out a laugh, but it was barely a puff of pained air. She immediately winced at the pain the notion brought. The agony intertwined with the emotion Carrie was feeling. Justin shouted something angrily, but Sam ignored it.

"She brought us muffins," Sam rasped. "Sh-she was always so kind... to us. And one time I—I caught her in the bathroom..."

        "Hey momma, look at me
        I'm on my way to the promised land, wow!"

Sam was suddenly struck by dizzying coughs that made her arm scream in more pain. But, still, she continued.

"Sh-she was... throwing up. She was in so much pain. I know it—it w-wasn't my place, but I t-told Ms. Kelly. I was just—I was just worried about her," Sam heaved. Carrie's hand was around Sam's neck, the other over her bicep, but she wasn't applying pressure anymore. A lone tear fell down Carrie's cheek, and Sam heard Justin exclaim something to Carrie about snapping out of it. "She d-didn't deserve that—she never deserved any of... that. I was—"

Sam coughed again.

        "I'm on the highway to hell!"

"I was trying to help. I'm—I'm always fucking trying to help. I can't—I tried, Carrie—I tried s-so h-hard. I'm—so sorry."

        "Highway to hell!"

And Carrie was just staring at Sam, for a second. Sam was staring at her too. Tears were an ebbing thing down both their cheeks, although the wetness of Sam's face could also be attributed to the blood. It was running down her nose and flowing from her arm. The girl before Sam was a blurry sight, and Sam knew not even her glasses could help with that.

"Come on, Care, don't tell me you believe this crap," Justin scoffed. Sam was suddenly reminded of his presence—and the gun. "Sam's always been so full of shit."

Sam huffed out a broken and wheezy laugh before she was wincing again.

Carrie finally broke her gaze from Sam, staring contemplatively at Justin.

        "Mm, don't stop me..."

She shook her head.

"No," Carrie faltered. "You are."

Then she wheeled around and lunged straight at Justin.

The second Carrie's pressure was off Sam, Sam snapped into motion too. She pushed past the pain and ignored the sounds of Carrie and Justin tussling before her. She didn't have the strength, she could only crawl, but she wasn't about to waste her only moment. She couldn't even find time to be surprised at what Carrie Cunningham was doing. She just stretched forward.

Sam's hand latched onto the gun like second nature. Justin was cursing wildly as Carrie grappled with him; the football player fought the cheerleader, and the wounded tech freak was trying her best to stand up.

"Quit being a fucking bitch!" Justin bellowed. "Carrie, what the fuck?!"

Justin's elbow swung back, knocking Carrie in the nose. The two of them landed in a heap on the two stairs that led to the front of the trailer. Sam tried to blink past the blurriness, past the tears, and forced out the agonizing pain and soaking blood. She still couldn't move her entire right arm because of the wound in her bicep—her left hand had to hold the gun. It wasn't her dominant side, but Sam didn't have any other choice.

"Justin," Sam managed, barely even a whisper.

Justin stopped trying to fight Carrie. He faltered, head turning to the sound of her voice.

        "I'm on the highway to hell!"

"Get the fuck out of here." Sam re-cocked the gun and pointed it right at his head with just one hand. She nodded to the other girl. "You and Carrie."

If Sam was busy with Carrie and Justin, she couldn't help Max. She couldn't help El. She was vaguely sure only her electric powers could overpower Henry's, and now she was gone, and she was more terrified by what was going on in her absence than she was of Justin Zimmerman.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Justin stuck his hands up, eyes wide in fear. "Don't... don't shoot. Please."

Sam intended to scoff, but she was weak, and it sounded wrong even in her own ears.

"Why not? You shot me."

        "On the highway to hell!"

Justin shook his head, sneer returning. Carrie's eyes were magnified too, and she was soaking in the entire sight of Sam—the right side of her body coated in blood, the way she held the gun with ease. She was product of their own evil, and Carrie was learning right in this moment what guilt was. It occurred to her she'd never felt like this until now.

"You're fucked, Hughes," Justin spat. "Whether it's by me, or by Carrie, or by the town—you're fucked."

        "Highway to hell!"

And although Sam hadn't heard it in a while, she could hear Uncle Dan's voice ringing in her ears. Samantha is fucked up and only hands around boys like a slut!

Her left hand curled around the gun, tighter.

        "Highway to hell!"

But then there was another noise, resounding in Sam's ear. Another, familiar noise that neither Carrie nor Justin could hear. It made Sam's chest constrict upon hearing it.

The chiming of a grandfather clock.

It rang four times.

Sam's entire will of being quaked.

        "And I'm goin' down..."

Max Mayfield was dead.

After as hard as Sam tried, after as much Sam foretold the opposite, in the end, Max Mayfield was dead. She knew it. She could feel it. It hurt more than the bullet wound in her bicep, more than the biting cold in her chest. It hurt more than anything. It felt like waiting in the hospital for hours, only to find out her parents were dead the entire time. It felt like spending days trying to keep everyone in the hospital safe, only for Bob to die right before her eyes .

It felt like hope dying—just like what happened to everything else Sam loved.

Max Mayfield was dead.

        "All the way, wow..."

Sam wasn't there to save her.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously back on Justin.

Sam wasn't there to save her because of him.

        "On the highway to hell..."

The ground rumbled beneath them, confirming the one fact that Sam's hazy mind still couldn't grasp: Max Mayfield was dead, dead, dead. Sam didn't know why she was surprised—Max was Max, and Sam loved her, so what other ending could be bestowed upon her because of that? Sam was like a disease; everyone she loved, she touched. Everything she touched, she killed.

Throughout Hawkins, four Gates opened up.

"What the fuck?!" Justin cried.

Carrie looked around wildly, the floor jolting beneath her body. Everything in the trailer was being thrown around. "What the hell is happening?!"

The sky was red. The grass was dying. There were four chimes of a demented clock. Max Mayfield was dead because Samantha Hughes was stopped from saving her by Justin Zimmerman. The (life-altering) facts of life.

And when Justin didn't understand something, he got angry—he got angry, and he lashed out like he was Corey Alan Gray at eleven years old. He roared something about killing Sam, and he threw Carrie backwards. Sam registered then, that he was jumping forward to actually try and kill her.

Sam pulled the trigger straight through Justin's brain.

He went limp, rendered dead finally.

Sam didn't hear the bullet, she didn't hear the sound of her own breathing; she could vaguely hear Carrie screaming, but the sound was overpowered as the earth began to shake.

Tears streamed down Carrie's face, mixing with Justin's blood that had splattered onto her. Splattered onto Sam. She gaped, closed her mouth, gaped again.

"S-Sam, y-you just—"

"He killed Max first," Sam choked. Nothing felt real.

Carrie tried to take a confused step closer, but then she was collapsing to the ground quickly. Sam's vision obscured, and she realized she was falling to the ground too.

Only a few yards away, the Gate to Eddie's trailer was opening up. It all went according to the vision Henry showed her. The ground of the earth crumbled as the red look took everything over, black vines crawling out from it.

Four drawings. Four kills. Four Gates.

End of the world.

"C-Carrie, I mean it, you have to get out of here," Sam gasped. The blood was spreading, and so were the Gates. She met Carrie in the middle, stretched over Justin's corpse. Blood poured from both of their noses now. "It's not—safe."

Carrie's eyes were wild in disarray. Justin was dead, and the earth was quaking, and everything was going wrong, and nothing could be comprehended. Her hands had been cupping Justin's face, tears falling down, but she whipped her head up at Sam's begging.

"No, Sam." Carrie swallowed dryly. "Sam, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for—for everything. Middle school, high school, J-Justin. All of it."

They could hear the sound of trees falling to the forest floor. Everything neared closer as the Gate wilted the forestry around the hidden trailer.

"I won't let the town do anything to you," Carrie promised, sad. "I won't tell them what you did. I-I screwed up, okay? I know. I didn't understand—I never understood—"

Out of the shattered window, a red glow lit up the night sky. Sam threw her body over Carrie's body and Justin's corpse protectively.

"G-get out of here, Carrie," Sam ignored her. "While you still can."

Carrie's apology was falling on deaf ears. How could she care so much about girlish drama right now? Max was dead—Sam's best friend was dead. The end of the world was here. Sam just killed a person. She felt as numb as her arm.

Carrie shook her head. The earth shook louder. "I'm not leaving you here!"

"Just shut up and go!" Sam snapped desperately.

Max was dead. The end of the world was here. Sam just killed a person.

But the dimensions continued to converge.

It was about time the Gates reached the trailer.

Carrie screamed in utter horror, a shrieking sound that ended the ringing in Sam's ears. She whipped her head to look at what Carrie was seeing, but the speed made her head spin. The wound in her bicep was spreading, and the trailer was being split straight in half by the Gates. The world was caving in.

The back half of the trailer got sucked in completely by the black, living vines excreting from the Gates. Debris fell into the bleary red below, but maybe it appeared that way because Sam was slowly losing vision entirely. She could've sworn there was screeching inside the Gate, but it was still just Carrie's frightened yelling.

Sam felt paralyzed in shock.

Max was dead. The end of the world was here. Sam just killed a person.

"SAM, WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS?!"

Sam coughed. "Wh-what?"

At Carrie's exclamation, Sam realized her eyes had accidentally fallen closed in exhaustion. The pain was getting to her, seeping into her very soul—it wasn't just anything physical anymore. That desolated, dead hope had taken over Sam's mind and body and heart.

Max was dead. The end of the world was here. Sam just killed a person.

She opened her eyes, and she saw it too late.

The living vines were snaking over to them.

"Carrie, you..." Sam was starting to realize it. She wasn't going to make it out here alive. There were only a few moments left. "You have to tell Lucas—you have to tell Lucas. Tell him. You..."

As Sam let out a pained breath, her eyes instinctively fell shut again. For some reason, Carrie began screaming louder. Sam saw a blurry figure of Carrie trying to leap towards her.

But a vine wrapped itself around Sam's ankle. But she couldn't fight it off this time. But she was so tired of fighting.

It tugged, and Sam's body was pulled down under.

The last things Sam could think of were her words to Max before it all went black.

Both of us or neither of us.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Published: February 20, 2024
Re-published: October 30, 2025

Bailey yaps...

Um

If I said I was sorry would anyone believe me?

No? Ok

Um

Stream "Highway To Hell" ??

Can't we all just frolic and enjoy the fun. Samax. Elsam. Girl trio realness. Sam being #1 Ragebaiter for some reason I don't know what compelled me to make her be so unserious but that was actually just her spirit shining through my writing. Sam lowkey being powerful as fuck and going Super Saiyan.

Then the gunshot rang out *cue traumatized PTSD soldier reaction picture*

Justin Zimmerman *cue me strangling him with my bare hands*

I do like that Sam and Lucas were both fighting psychotic jocks at the same time at least 🙂 Hughclair soulmatism

ALSO I DO LIKE CARRIE CUNNINGHAM SWITCHUP OF THE CENTURY

I mean obviously I still have mixed feelings on her. The complexity of her character is insane. But. Imagine your big sister is brutally murdered, and everything you say consists of "My sister died, and it's just 'another one of those Hawkins deaths!'" "I don't care, I don't CARE! I miss—I miss my sister, Jay!" "Can I just mourn my dead fucking sister for five seconds without having to hear shit from you, or my mom, or—" "Can we go home now?" "My sister just died!" But literally no one will let you focus on this, they're too determined on literally hunting people. So you force yourself to do the same. But then finally, finally, someone cares to mourn Chrissy. And that someone is the girl you've been nothing but cruel to since elementary school. And she talks about how kind your big sister was, and how much your big sister didn't deserve the fate she was given, and how, as a stranger, she tried getting your big sister help, when not even her closest of confidants would. And then Carrie Cunningham learns empathy from Samantha Hughes.

And then I actually wrote Sam killing a person ??? Hello ???

I've never been prouder of her. Even if that's going to fuck her the fuck up. I've never been prouder. She deadass stood on business so hard I didn't except that from her. Sam "stay strapped" Hughes we still think about you

I really hope this doesn't make her question the core of who she is, because it was her love for Max that drove her to act in self-defense (she never defends herself, but just this once, she did, and she did it for Max)

Oh to have a heart as pure as Sam Hughes, who sacrificed herself for someone who bullied her her entire life

Anyway

Shoutout to the old comments that still make me laugh. And next chapter's are even worse lmaoooo