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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
god rest ye merry gentlemen
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( the upside down, pt. ii )

• °:.☆ . ₊°• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

LUCKILY, LAURA HAS finally stopped being sick, but that probably has something to do with how she's been forced to lie down. The hospital's emergency room is relatively empty—only she and Will are currently receiving care. She wishes that she could see him, but nobody outside of his family has been cleared to visit until he's stabilized, and the doctors won't let her leave.

Thinking about Will being one room away helps prevent her from succumbing to the insistent pull of fatigue threatening to pull her unconscious. The silence of the room doesn't help. She nearly fell asleep during the car ride, her eyelids growing heavy from the day's exhaustion finally catching up to her. It's well after midnight now—but the doctors have told her not to fall asleep so they can keep an eye on her symptoms, so she can't pass out like she desperately wants to.

Instead, she stares at her sneakers in disdain. They were already tattered and torn before her disgusting from her trip into the Upside Down, and now that she's fought the monster twice, they're ruined beyond repair, turned dark with sludge, dirt, gunpowder, and blood.

She groans. "My shoes are ruined."

"I don't think that's the biggest thing you have to worry about right now, Laur," Nancy says, side-eyeing her.

"I liked these, though." Laura rotates her ankle to inspect the side of her sneaker with a frown.

"It's okay, hon," Mrs. Wheeler assures her, gently patting her hair. "I'm sure your parents would rather it be your shoes than you."

Mrs. Wheeler and Nancy have been keeping her company until her parents arrive, which seems like a slow-moving development. It's laughable that Laura was excited when the sun went down. Back then, she'd assumed that she'd be able to fall asleep soon, allowing her body some much-needed rest. Now the clock ticks closer to two in the morning.

The door creaks open. Laura's mom enters first, her eyes flickering from Nancy to Mrs. Wheeler before finally landing on Laura herself. She covers her mouth at the sight of her daughter. It surprises Laura, who is used to seeing her so composed. But there are tears in her eyes before she even reaches Laura to pull her into a hug.

"Oh, honey," she says, her voice wavering with emotion. "What happened? What happened?"

The sweet scent of her perfume envelops Laura. A moment later, her father's arms join their embrace. Laura has been trying to stay strong for so long. This week has been one of the worst in her life, and she felt like she had to hide most of her struggles from her parents. But now, with everything over, the emotions come spilling out of her before she can realize what's happening. And she's sobbing.

They are ugly, noisy, messy sobs. Sobs that shake her entire body. She squeezes her eyes shut against the onslaught of tears, her parents' arms trying to ward her pain away with the warmth of their embrace. She hadn't realized how badly she needed her parents until now. It's like she's a kid again. After this horrible nightmare, all she wants is their comfort.

"We're here," her father assures her, kissing the top of her head. "We're here."

When the doctor returns, he informs her parents of his observations thus far. "We suspect a concussion due to the symptoms of lethargy, blurry vision, nausea, dizziness, pain in the head. Laura also has significant bruising to the abdomen as well as minor bruising to the face and shoulder."

To Laura's relief, her mom and dad don't ream her with questions yet. Even though they're wondering what the hell caused all of these injuries, they seem to realize that they can't get proper answers when she's so emotionally fragile.

After being discharged from the hospital with pain medication and an ice pack, Laura's parents help her to the car. She rests her head on the door and watches the street lights pass. Her father cruises through Hawkins slowly—or, in her muddled state, it seems he's driving at a snail's pace—and all of the lights appear fuzzy. It makes the ride dreamlike. Like this is some liminal space connecting the bizarre supernatural hell she'd experienced tonight and her normal life.

She can't go straight to bed even though she desperately wants to. Laura's mother helps her bathe for the first time since she was a child. The hot spray of the shower cascades down her back as she sits on the floor of the tub, too lethargic to feel embarrassed about her mother scrubbing her clean. Her touch is gentle. It almost lulls Laura to sleep, and she receives the occasional poke to keep her awake.

Her mother is careful around the ugly purple and blue bruising on Laura's skin. She detangles Laura's hair until it's perfectly smooth again. After the shower, she smells like raspberries, not monster guts. She doesn't even complain when her mother helps her into a pair of cozy pajamas.

But she does speak up when her mother tries to lead her to her room. "Can I sleep with you guys?"

It's another thing Laura hasn't done since childhood. If it surprises her mother, she doesn't show it, instead nodding and helping her downstairs.

It's a childish thing. Tucked between her parents while they all fall asleep, she feels like nothing can harm her. It's much more difficult to fit three people now that she's not small, but her parents don't complain. If anything, they seem grateful for the excuse to keep a closer eye on her.

Laura is sure that questions will come later. For now, all she wants is to finally rest.

—°• ☆ . °—

An entire mountain of snow dislodges from Laura's boot when she knocks it on the Wheelers' porch. "All we did was walk across the street. Why — is — there — so — much?"

"It's called winter," her father replies, copying her actions, though much less aggressively. His nose is already pink from the sub-zero temperatures that have turned Hawkins into an arctic tundra.

Even the short walk had been perilous. Her father led the way while Laura and her mother stepped carefully in his footprints, determined not to drop the containers of food and carefully wrapped presents in their arms. Though the night is bitterly cold, the Christmas decorations on almost every house illuminate the street in soft, warm lighting, creating a cheery atmosphere as the snow drifts downward in soft flurries.

Mrs. Wheeler opens the door a few moments after they ring the bell. Her smile is contagious, her lips painted the same shade as her rust-colored sweater.

"Come in!" she exclaims, beckoning the Fairers inside. "The crock pot can go on the counter, Sherry. You can hang your coats on the rack. Put the gifts under the tree. And Laura, honey, there's a cake with walnuts in it, but it's labeled and on a separate counter from the others, so don't eat it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler," she says, yanking her boots off. "Merry Christmas."

The inside of the house is just as comforting as the outside. A garland winds down the railing of the stairs, adding splashes of green to the otherwise warm-tinted interior. Several lamps are on instead of the overhead lights. Laura is grateful not to see any multicolored bulbs so far—every time she encounters them, it makes all of her hair stand on end.

Laura's parents help Mrs. Wheeler in the kitchen while Laura heads to the living room. First, she sees Holly sitting on the carpet with some new dolls, absentmindedly playing with them while she stares at the Charlie Brown Christmas special on television. Then her gaze moves to Mr. Wheeler, who's already starting to nod off on his recliner.

"Laur!" Nancy exclaims, launching herself from the sofa. She throws her arms around Laura and squishes the gifts between their bodies, causing the wrapping paper to crinkle.

"You're gonna crush them," Laura laughs.

Nancy pulls back from the hug sheepishly, taking some of the presents and placing them under the glittering tree. Laura's heart trips over itself when she notices the multicolored bulbs twinkling between the plethora of ornaments. She keeps an eye on them for a second longer than usual, but they remain steady, not blinking, no longer a signal that the Demogorgon is headed their way.

Then Laura realizes that Steve is also here. She almost snorts in amusement at his outfit—a navy blue sweater with reindeer printed on it. She never would have imagined that Steve Harrington would wear an ugly Christmas sweater. But there are a lot of things that she never would've imagined him doing, like saving their lives last month and hurtling himself straight at the monster. And she no longer feels animosity when she sees him. So instead of scowling or looking away, she waves.

Since the Fairers celebrate Hanukkah, Nancy had already given Laura her present: a new pair of sneakers since her old ones were ruined that night. Laura was so grateful she could have cried. She's been impatient to return the favor, so now that Christmas Eve is finally here, it brings both relief and anxiety.

Laura considers herself a pretty good gift-giver, but every time it comes to the actual giving part, she becomes paralyzed with fear that she misread the person and they're going to hate what she got them. So even though she's pretty certain that Nancy is going to love her present, a kernel of doubt manages to make her stomach churn.

"Hmm. I wonder what this is," Nancy says sarcastically, giving the tiny, rectangular box a small shake. She raises a teasing brow.

"Did you want me to put it in a larger box just to fool you?" Laura asks. "Just open it."

Nancy finally puts Laura out of her misery and tears into the wrapping. As soon as she reveals the custom cassette tape underneath, her smile brightens, her eyes eagerly taking in the list of tracks handwritten on the back.

"Hopefully we never have to go monster hunting again, but if we do, at least we'll have an awesome soundtrack," Laura says, confident that Mr. Wheeler is asleep by now and Holly won't catch on to anything they're saying. Nancy's head jerks up to glare at her halfheartedly. "I'm just kidding, it's a normal mixtape."

"Blondie? Heart? This is amazing!" Nancy squints once she reaches the bottom of the tracklist. "No George Michael?"

Laura shrugs. "I figured I should stop putting him on every single one of my tapes. It was time for me to branch out."

Nancy's grin lights up her entire face, making her almost as radiant as the tree behind her. "I love it so much. I can't wait to play it."

Thank God, Laura thinks, though her smile veils the doubts that had lurked in her mind.

Steve clears his throat. The girls turn to see him holding out a small, poorly-wrapped gift. "Uh... Merry Christmas."

It takes both Laura and Nancy several moments to realize that it's for Laura. When it clicks, they each have two very different reactions. Laura dumbly says, "Oh," while Nancy cries, "Steve!"

"What?" he asks, somewhat bewildered by the exasperation in her voice.

"She doesn't celebrate Christmas." Nancy buries her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, Laur. He didn't tell me he was getting you something. I would've warned him."

He still appears clueless. "Huh?"

"I'm Jewish," Laura replies.

Now it's Steve's turn to say, "Oh. Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know... Uh... Happy belated Hanukkah?"

Nancy, who still has her face buried in her hands, shakes her head.

Laura takes the gift. It's surprisingly floppy, though solid, and he'd wrapped it himself. There's way too much tape and the nativity-printed paper is wrinkled, bulging out at the corners. It makes the surprise that much more endearing; Laura's heart warms as she carefully slides her finger under each piece of tape.

"Now you get to see how she opens presents," Nancy says wryly.

Still moving slowly, Laura explains, "I refuse to rip the paper."

"That's... interesting," Steve says.

When the paper has been removed, Laura reveals a copy of Carrie by Steven King. It's such a spot-on gift that it couldn't have been a coincidence. Instead of saying "thank you" first, she bursts out, "How did you know I like horror novels?"

Steve scratches the back of his head—a nervous habit, it seems, because Laura has noticed that he does it quite frequently—and replies, "Nancy mentioned it at one point."

Still taken aback by the gesture of kindness, Laura stares at the book for a while longer, running her fingers over the cover. Then she remembers her manners. "Thank you. Well, now I feel like a jerk. I didn't get you anything."

"S'fine." Steve waves her off. "I was a stupid jerk. So... I guess this is kind of like an... I'm sorry?"

Laura smiles. "You're terrible at apologizing."

"I know," Steve groans, tossing his head back dramatically. "Can you guys just give me a break? I mean, like, seriously. It's been nothing but attacks, here."

Nancy shares a look with Laura. Her expression is mischievous when she answers, "Never."

"Someone has to keep you in line, Harrington."

"You're the one who threw up in my plant, Fairer."

"What?" Nancy asks.

"Long story," Laura replies.

But Steve, apparently determined to get her back by embarrassing her, launches into the story. "Laura was so drunk after the pool party that she passed out on my floor..."

Laura would never have guessed that she'd be having a good time with Steve. She would never have guessed that not only would Nancy know about her crush. Nor would she ever have assumed that both of these people would be fine with it. A little over a month ago, she thought her life was going to end when Steve figured things out. But now she feels lighter around them, able to be more herself than she's ever been in front of others.

So many life-altering events have occurred since the first week of November. But, like this one, some of them haven't been so bad.

END OF PART ONE.

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a/n:

I FINALLY DID IT RAAAHHHHHH!!!

thank you all for joining me on this journey through season 1. your support has meant the world to me and i'm so grateful for every single reader <3

laura will return soon, but first there will be a new playlist & epigraph to divide the seasons. look out for that soon!

— kristyn

( word count: 2.4k )