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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
to love and to lose
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( the bathtub, pt. iii )

• °:.☆ . ₊°• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

THE ENTIRE GROUP stares at Dustin as he dials a number on the Byers's new phone—one that doesn't have a cord to attach it to the wall, which amazes Laura. From what Eleven had described of the "bath" she mentioned, they need a tub large enough for her to free-float in, and it has to be pitch-black. They essentially have to shut off all her other senses so she can focus on traveling to the Upside Down.

Dustin had the idea of calling the kids' science teacher for help. Though Laura has always been terrible at the subject, she'd been fond of Mr. Clarke, who always tried his best to help her. His enthusiasm for science was palpable in all of his lessons. When she first started middle school, Laura had expected that passion to rub off on her and catapult her to a genius-level scientist. That clearly did not happen.

She taps her foot on the ground as Dustin puts the phone to his ear and waits. Seconds seem to stretch into years. But finally, his face lights up. "Mr. Clarke? It's Dustin. Yeah, yeah, I just... I ... I have a science question. Do you know anything about sensory deprivation tanks? Specifically how to build one?" He pauses, presumably so Mr. Clarke can ask why the hell he needs to know this information at ten p.m. "...Fun."

He squeezes his eyes shut, silently cursing himself for not coming up with a better reason.

There's a longer pause as he listens to whatever the teacher replies with. Then Dustin's voice bursts out in an almost accusatory manner, growing louder as he pesters him for the response they need. "You always say we should never stop being curious. To always open any curiosity door we find. Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?"

Putting Mr. Clarke's words against him seems to do the trick. Dustin turns around and waves his hands at Jonathan to get up from the table. He whispers, "Paper! Paper! Pencil!" and practically throws himself into the chair.

Joyce digs through a drawer and produces a notepad and pencil. Dustin positions the phone between his ear and shoulder, scribbling notes as Mr. Clarke says them.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. How much? Uh-huh. Yep, all right. Yeah, we'll be careful. Definitely. All right, Mr. Clarke." Now that they've gotten what they need, Dustin is eager to cut the phone call short as his teacher warns them of the dangers of sensory deprivation tanks. "Yeah, I'll see you on Monday. I'll see you on Monday, Mr. Clarke. Bye."

He presses the button to hang up the call, cutting off the indistinct sound of Mr. Clarke's voice. He points the pencil at Joyce. "Do you still have that kiddie pool we bobbed for apples in?"

"I think so," she answers. "Yeah."

"Good. Then we just need salt. Lots of it."

"How much is 'lots'?" Hopper questions.

Dustin consults his notes, then cringes at the number. "Fifteen hundred pounds."

Laura gapes at him. Not even George's Family Diner carries that much in stock.

Nancy asks the question they're all thinking. "Well, where are we gonna get that much salt?"

It's Hopper who comes up with the idea. Laura is back in his station wagon, which does not have seat belts, being tossed around in the passenger seat by his chaotic driving. It's the kind of thing that would warrant a ticket if he hadn't been the police chief. Laura grips onto her seat for dear life as he swerves into the parking lot of Hawkins Middle School and parks outside the doors to the gymnasium.

"I never wanted to be back here," Laura grumbles to herself as she exits the car.

Each of them has a different task. For Jonathan and Hopper, the two oldest men, it's acquiring as many bags of de-icing salt as they possibly can. Nancy and Mike head over to the storage shed near the back fields for hoses and tools. Joyce takes Eleven to the science lab to find something to cover her eyes with. Which leaves Laura to help Lucas and Dustin with the kiddie pool, which they plan to set up in the middle of the gym.

It's just as she remembers it from two years ago. The gym always smells like feet and wax floor polish—a strange phenomenon considering the scuffed wood looks like it hasn't been treated since she was born. The colorful paint marking the basketball and volleyball courts has faded with time. It's just like everything in Hawkins: outdated and in desperate need of reform.

Dustin attempts to carry the rolled-up pool by himself for approximately ten steps before it becomes obvious that he needs help. They'll be here all night if he's left to struggle.

"This damn thing is heavy," he grunts, dropping it.

He rears his foot back to kick it instead. Laura sighs and heaves the thing into her arms. Dustin was right—it is heavy, but she's used to carrying heavy trays laden with plates at the diner. This is where she excels. Not biking across down. But the pool is an awkward size, so she has to kind of waddle to the circle in the middle of the court, and she can tell that Lucas is trying not to laugh.

Once she sets it down, they work on untying the rope that's keeping it nicely rolled up. Lucas tosses an old hose aside so it thunks on the floor. They each grab a side, stretching the flimsy plastic out.

"It's upside down," Lucas says. They flip it so the blue part is on the bottom. Dustin grabs a new part of the border, but Lucas corrects him, "No, this way."

They stretch it out into a circle, but as soon as Dustin releases one part, the side caves in and flops onto the floor.

"How does this even work?" he mutters.

Lucas waves at the fallen section. "Try that side."

Dustin scoots to the left only for the front to fall this time. "Son of a bitch!"

Laura has already figured out that the pool will take shape once water starts flowing into it, but she watches them struggle with her brows raised in amusement, still lightly holding onto her side.

"Pull it back. Pull it back," Lucas orders.

"I am!"

Laura snickers. Dustin's head jerks in her direction, his expression bewildered. "Why are you laughing?"

"It's not going to hold by itself," she explains, pointing to the collapsed edges. "The water will spread it out and make the sides stand up."

The boys stare at the thin plastic border with disdain. They can be incredibly smart, but also so incredibly stupid. Dustin can explain complex scientific theories but gets stumped on how to set up a pool meant for small children.

"And you were going to say something... when, exactly?" Lucas asks.

"Eventually." Laura shrugs. "For now, let's just keep it spread out like this. When Nancy and Mike come back with the hoses, we can hold the sides as the water goes in."

Dustin sighs, putting his hands on his hips. "Well, we just wasted two minutes of our lives."

The Wheeler siblings arrive with the tools ten minutes later. The wheelbarrow they're transporting them in will probably damage the floor even more, but it's already ruined enough that any tire treads will be unnoticeable.

Nancy connects two hoses to the faucets in the custodian closet at the back of the gym—one for hot water and one for cold. Mike positions the ends into the misshapen pool. Once he, Lucas, Dustin, and Laura are each holding one side, she turns on the water. Laura watches it slowly spread to fit the size of its container. Sure enough, once there are a few inches, the entire thing stands up by itself and they can let go.

Even with two hoses, it's still a slow-moving process, especially because they have to reach the perfect temperature. Lucas places a thermometer into the water once it's a few inches from the top. The red line shoots up and stops just above one hundred degrees Fahrenheit.

"Colder!" he shouts loud enough for Nancy to hear. One of the hoses stops feeding water when she turns off the faucet. The thermometer drops to ninety. "Warmer!" Once it reaches precisely a hundred, he yells, "Right there!"

Hopper and Jonathan return with cartloads of bags. Each of them pulls out a pocket knife and begins slicing through the thin fabric, allowing the salt to gush out like a waterfall into the pool.

Laura remembers the old knife her dad had left in this jacket when he'd given it to her—he'd probably forgotten it was in there, and she never brought it up, knowing he would have taken it back. She unzips the hidden interior pocket and flips the blade open. When she grabs one of the packages, stepping closer to the edge of the pool so the salt falls into the pool and not the floor, Hopper does a double-take.

"What — what the hell?" he demands. "Do you just have an arsenal on you?"

"I've learned not to ask," Jonathan says.

The knife may be old, but it does the trick, cutting through the thin canvas material like it's air. White granules pour out as soon as a hole forms. Laura shakes the bag to make it go faster. The water sloshes, bubbling as the salt dissolves.

It's a tedious process. They dump bag after bag, the sound of fabric ripping and salt pouring becoming a constant sound like a metronome. Laura's arms start to ache. Despite her burning muscles, she continues.

Dustin tests the buoyancy of the saltwater by grabbing a carton of eggs from the cafeteria kitchen. He slowly lowers one into the water. To their frustration, it sinks.

More lifting, slicing, and pouring. Laura is sure they've added enough salt to sustain a small shark in this pool.

In combination with finding the right amount of salt, they also have to ensure that the water temperature doesn't drop, so Nancy remains on standby near the faucets, occasionally feeding more hot water into the pool. It's more work than Laura could have anticipated.

The second time that Dustin performs the egg test, it floats. Laura exhales a sigh of relief that their job is done. Now it's time for Eleven to shine.

Mike places Will's walkie-talkie onto a cart laden with towels beside the pool. Static fills the air as he switches it on and cranks the volume as high as it can go. Eleven removes her soiled sneakers, Mike's gym socks, and a wristwatch. Joyce hands her a pair of lab goggles wrapped in duct tape to keep out any light. She puts them over her eyes and steadies herself with a deep breath.

Joyce and Hopper help her step blindly into the pool. Laura can't imagine how hot it must be, but Eleven doesn't flinch, wading forward until there's enough room for her to sit and tip backward. When she lies back, she floats just like the egg. Her lack of a reaction makes Laura wonder how many times she's done this. A child shouldn't be desensitized to scalding temperatures like that.

Eleven floats for a few seconds, her limbs outstretched like a starfish, Nancy's pink dress flowing around her. The electricity surges. The overhead lights flicker and then cut out entirely, plunging them into darkness. The only thing that allows them to see is the moonlight that shines through the few windows toward the ceiling.

Long moments pass. Laura and Nancy kneel side-by-side to Eleven's right, wondering if they'll be able to connect to their friend this time. Nancy's hand searches for hers again. Laura grabs it, anchoring them to each other. Nancy's strength is her strength. Her strength is Nancy's.

Eleven's voice is quiet, but it cuts through the dead silence in the room like a knife. "Barbara?"

The girls lean forward in anticipation. Several heads turn to look at them. Laura keeps her eyes on Eleven as she floats, wishing she could dig through her mind and see what's going on for herself. The seconds are agonizing, pulling at Laura's heightened nerves until everything feels like razor blades against her skin.

Eleven's breathing turns heavy. The lights pulse, buzzing loudly, then shut off again. Laura's heart pounds. Before, she had been full of hope. Now it's slowly being poisoned as it turns to dread.

Nancy's eyes flick up to the ceiling. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Mike replies.

"Is Barb okay?" Nancy asks, leaning down toward the pool. "Is she okay?"

Laura only manages to speak one word. It comes out so quietly she's sure Eleven can't hear it with her ears submerged, her voice trembling. "Please."

Whatever God is up there doesn't answer her prayers. Eleven says the last thing they'd wanted to hear. "Gone. Gone."

Laura deflates like someone has just popped her with a needle, sinking back onto her heels, her eyes unfocusing. Someone has carved her out her insides and left her a shell. She doesn't feel anything except empty, overwhelmingly numb, everything in her mind and heart going silent.

"Gone!"

"I'll be there in a second."

The last words Barb would hear. A promise never fulfilled, a broken reassurance that may have plagued Barb until her final moments. Waiting, waiting, for a savior that would never come.

Someone may as well have stabbed Laura in the heart. She will carry this grief, this guilt, for the rest of her life.

She's too empty to even cry, even though Eleven is, her voice rising to a panicked shout as she repeats that fateful word over and over, her limbs restlessly thrashing in the pool. Joyce places a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."

"Gone!"

Her movements create small waves, churning the water so it laps at the edges, threatening to splash over.

"It's okay. It's okay." Joyce holds Eleven's hand while Hopper takes the other. Even in her altered state, Eleven instinctively pulls Joyce's arm closer, seeking her maternal comfort. "We're right here. We're right here, honey. It's okay. I got you. Don't be afraid. I'm right here with you."

She whispers reassurances until Eleven calms down, her body falling still again.

Laura is hit with the abrupt urge to run, to flee the gym, the school, maybe even Hawkins, and just keep going until her body gives out. But this isn't over. They still have to find Will. There might be one person they can save, and if Laura knows one thing, it's that she can't leave now when there might be something for her to do. So she stays put, fighting against her body's flight instincts, gripping the edge of the pool with the hand that isn't clasped with Nancy's until the plastic edge is in danger of cutting her skin.

"Castle Byers," Eleven murmurs Then, "Will?"

Joyce gasps. She fights to find words, all of the things she wants to say jumbling together in a tangled knot. "You... you tell him... tell him I'm coming. Mom is coming."

And then, from the radio, Will's voice speaks to them. "Hurry."

He sounds so weak, so fragile, like it had taken all of his energy just to say that simple word. It would have broken Laura's heart if it wasn't already shattered.

Overcome with emotion, Joyce struggles to keep her voice steady. "Okay. Listen, you tell him to... to stay where he is. We're coming. We're coming, okay? We're coming, honey."

The hopeful moment begins to splinter when Eleven's frantic whimpering replaces Will on the radio, signaling that though her body is still, she's wreaking havoc in her mind. Then she jolts upright and yanks the goggles off her head. Her entire body shakes in time with her heavy breaths.

Joyce cradles the girl in her arms, whispering to her as she rubs Eleven's soaked back. Blood oozes from one of her nostrils. It smears around her face due to her crumpled expression, which twists in time with the sobs that wrack her body.

Laura has never known such relief and such despair at the same time.

—°• ☆ . °—

The brick wall is hard against her back. All of Laura's muscles throb even when she's not moving. She and Nancy sit against the Tiger mural outside the gymnasium, curled into themselves and each other, silent. Laura's head rests against Nancy's shoulder. Her head leans on hers. A moment like this may have normally sent butterflies swarming in her stomach, but not now. This is out of comfort, of necessity, because Nancy is the only person who can truly understand the feelings at war inside of her.

Both of them have been grappling with guilt. It was what made them fight a few days ago, placing the blame on each other, before realizing that arguing wouldn't solve anything. If Laura could turn back time, she would have followed Barb outside. She would have stopped her from trying to shotgun a beer. Maybe she would have even avoided Steve's house altogether, leaving them at home on a Tuesday night like they normally would be.

But they can't go back. All they can do is move forward and do better this time around. They can avenge Barb.

"This... is a weird time to bring it up..." Nancy trails off, her voice barely above a mumble. "But... I know... I know how you feel. About me."

Laura straightens so quickly their skulls knock together. She barely registers the pain, her senses too overloaded by the alarm bells clanging in her mind as she scoots away from Nancy.

She sighs, her head falling back against the tiger's muzzle. She doesn't notice the pain behind that action, either. "I knew Steve wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut."

"What? Steve? No—" Nancy shakes her head, moving closer and grabbing Laura's hands. "Carol and Tommy— they said something. Steve tried to shut them up before they did."

Laura blinks. The information is slow to register. Steve didn't spill her secret. She'd just underestimated how observant and intuitive Carol and Tommy were, and assumed that they'd learned about her crush from him. That twenty-dollar bill that was left behind at their table today... had Steve put it there on purpose? As an apology for how they treated her?

She never thought this day would come. Laura has no idea what to say now that her biggest secret is out to the person she likes, but she feels like she wants to die, flaming-hot embarrassment enveloping her, turning her face crimson. Maybe the monster could yank her into the Upside Down so she could escape from this situation. She'd been terrified when Steve confronted her, but it wasn't even close to the sense of impending doom she feels now, like her world is moments away from imploding around her.

But Nancy isn't looking at her with revulsion. She isn't running away like she's afraid Laura will infect her. In fact, she's still holding her hands, trying to get Laura to look into her eyes. When she accepts that Laura won't do it, she says, "You could've told me, you know."

"I didn't know how," Laura replies. "I always felt like nobody could know. You never know who you can trust, so it's better just to keep it to yourself. Steve finding out... well, that was an accident. It happened earlier this week."

Nancy nods, understanding that she won't be able to empathize with Laura's situation, but that she can do her best to support her.

"I still love you," she says, "I just... I don't think I feel the same way."

"Oh, yeah, I know. I've accepted that. I'd never demand that you return my feelings."

The gears are still turning in Nancy's head. Eventually, she asks, "So... do you like boys, too? Or just..."

Laura shakes her head. "Just... just girls."

Nancy nods again, which Laura copies awkwardly, pressing her lips into a line. After simply not discussing her sexuality since she figured it out, it's strange to say the words out loud. They feel foreign in her mouth.

She wonders if she should explain. How, ever since she was little, it was expected that she would like boys. How all of the adults in her life would talk about her future husband as if it was a given. How she anticipated liking them, how all the girls in books and movies always fell for a charming guy, but even as she got older and Nancy got her first crush, she still felt nothing for the boys in her class. So she kept waiting, sure that at some point, she'd feel that spark. But when she finally did, it was for Katy Johnson in third grade. And nobody ever told her what you were supposed to do when that happened.

So she'd stayed quiet, trying her best to act like a regular girl who didn't get distracted by pretty girls. She swallowed down her compliments of the women in movies she saw and learned to rave about the male stars instead. She doesn't know how to explain that she's spent her entire life in hiding, and now that two people know, plus two who suspect... she isn't sure she can ever learn to stop.

Nancy huffs a small, barely perceptible laugh after a long stretch of silence. "You know, it makes sense now. You never really seemed all that enthusiastic when you said you had a huge crush on Harrison Ford and Matt Dillon."

Laura manages a small grin, admitting, "I totally spent most of The Outsiders hoping that Cherry would show up again."

They both chuckle. Laura isn't sure how to act around Nancy anymore; she's never felt so exposed, like her soul is cracked wide open. Things between them have always felt natural, but now, she knows Laura's feelings. What if she wants to put distance between them? What if she's uncomfortable?

But Nancy leans her head on Laura's shoulder and hugs her arm, and Laura doesn't know why she ever doubted her best friend for a second. She rests her head on top of Nancy's and sighs.

Jonathan luckily chooses that moment and no sooner to walk out of the gym, the heavy door slamming behind him. The sound echoes through the otherwise empty hallway. He walks toward them, slides down the wall, and sits beside Laura, copying their positions of having their knees pulled toward their chests.

A few seconds of silence pass. Jonathan doesn't say anything, doesn't provide any words of comfort, he just sits there, offering support with his presence. He knows what it's like to grieve. Sometimes, you don't want to hear "I'm sorry" or "Everything is going to be okay." Because it doesn't feel like it at the moment, and apologies or condolences won't bring the person back. Those words can only exacerbate the pain if spoken too soon.

It's Nancy who speaks first. "We have to go back to the station."

"What?" Jonathan asks.

"Your mom and Hopper are just walking in there like bait," she says. "That thing is still in there. And we can't just sit here and let it get them, too. We can't."

"I'm not going to let anything happen when I have the chance to do something," Laura adds. "I'm doing my part. For Barb."

Jonathan inhales, then huffs through his nose. "You still wanna try it out?"

"I wanna finish what we started," Nancy tells him. "I want to kill it."

_______

a/n:

HUZZAH! FINALE TIME! WE MADE IT! but also rip barb. she deserved so much better </3

but hooray, it's been confirmed that steve did NOT out laura— carol and tommy are just jerks. the staura brotp is growing stronger (as is the jonlaura one because i kinda love them).

thank you for reading! i hope to have the next chapter up soon!

— kristyn

( word count: 4.0k )