𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 5.5k

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 as Owen hurried around the house, getting ready for work. But the speed at which she was moving had nothing to do with her being late, as it usually did. For once, she was just excited to get out of the house, having grown very tired of the nonstop, frigid air that filled each and every room. Not to mention, her hair was still damp from her shower, the ends soaking through her t-shirt and making it even worse.

She could barely even feel her fingers when she finally breezed through the kitchen, on a mission to find her bag. Law was leaning against one of the counters, still in his pajamas and chowing down on his breakfast when she hurried past. "Law, you're off work today, right?" Owen asked, tossing couch pillows out of the way in search of her messenger bag.

"Yeah... why?" He spoke around a bite of sugary cereal, sounding equal parts wary and muffled.

"Because I need you to go check on Billy," she replied, simply. Owen began sorting through the various items hung on their coat rack, flipping through ball caps and jackets that had been hanging there for ages.

"Billy? Like, Billy Hargrove? The biggest asshole in Hawkins?" Law clarified, watching her roam about the living room. "Why would he need someone to check on him?"

Finally, Owen gave up her search, throwing her hands into the air with a dramatic puff of air. "I don't know! Okay?" Her words came out harsher than she intended, a product of her missing bag and people questioning her supernaturally good intuition. So, she softened them slightly when she turned to look at the younger boy. "I just got a really bad feeling about him the other night and I just want to make sure he's alright."

The genuine concern in her tone and the determined look in her eye had Law expelling a defeated sigh. There was really no chance he was getting out of this errand without a good excuse — an excuse he didn't have, mind you. "Fine," he gritted, scooping the last bite of cereal into his mouth. "But there's no way I'm actually approaching that douchebag, alright? I'm not trying to get my ass handed to me on my day off. So, I'll just... examine him from afar."

Although Owen rolled her eyes, she understood where he was coming from. She had never had a conversation with Billy Hargrove that went well. So, she was doubtful that any interaction between him and her brother would go about the same way. "Whatever. Just make sure he's okay. It's a pretty simple in and out mission," she conceded, her gaze dragging across every inch of the living room to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

Law dumped his bowl into the sink before strolling out of the kitchen. "Oh, by the way... you left your bag in me and Gordon's room," Law informed her, his nonchalant voice echoing from the back of the house. Owen groaned, throwing her head back against her shoulders.

"You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?" she huffed, stomping behind him down the hall.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Operation American Hero was still underway when Owen got to work that day. Once she was in her pirate costume, she sat atop the break room's counter, her legs swinging below her. She followed Dustin's pacing in front of her, eyes drifting back and forth like she was observing a very slow tennis match.

The younger boy was going on and on about everything he had learned since returning to their lookout spot on the roof that morning, giving the Scoops employees the full run-down. From the sound of it, any chance of making it into that box-filled room seemed highly unlikely.

"Well, there's gotta be a way in," Robin muttered. Judging by the look on her face, she was still running through every strategy and their potential outcomes.

"I don't know about you, but I didn't see another door into that room. So, it seems like we just need to figure out a way to get past those guards," Owen concluded with pursed lips. She leaned back onto her palms, studying the three in front of her.

"Well, you know..." Steve started, leaning his elbows onto the table in front of him. "I could just take him out."

Owen's eyebrows furrowed at the same time that Robin's shot upwards. Surely, they had just misheard him — or at least, Owen hoped that was the case. "Take who out?" Robin asked, practically begging for some clarification.

"The Russian guard." The blind confidence in his tone was genuinely concerning. Instantly spotting the disbelief on the others' faces, Steve went on to describe his brilliant plan. "What? I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It's easy."

"Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?" Dustin reminded him, arms crossed in front of his goofy graphic tee. Steve's expression was stony in response, seemingly unaffected by the fairly large obstacle in their way.

"Yeah, Dustin. I did," he snapped with a clipped tone. "And that's why I would be sneaking." Owen's eyes narrowed subconsciously, not exactly sure if this plan was as foolproof as he was making it sound.

"Well... Please, tell me this, and be honest, have you ever actually... won a fight?" Dustin asked, taking a slow step forward.

"Okay, that was one time-"

"Twice. Jonathan. Year prior?"

"Actually, three times, if we wanna get technical," Owen spoke up from atop the counter. "I got a punch in during junior year." And while Dustin and Robin processed that new piece of information, Steve was quick to discredit her.

"Listen, that doesn't count."

"Why the hell wouldn't that count?" she scoffed, leaning forward in a challenging manner.

His eyes rolled as he slouched back in his chair, arms crossed in front of him. Owen couldn't help but notice how his sleeves pulled tight against the muscles beneath them. And for a second, she cursed whoever designed that stupid sailor costume because there was absolutely no reason for his arms to look that good in such a stupid outfit.

"I mean, it wasn't really a fight. I would've had to punch you back for that to be the case," Steve corrected her, a smug little look on his face. "And I would never do that. 'Cause I'm a gentleman."

Her upper lip curled as she dropped back onto her palms again. "Wow, good to know chivalry's not dead."

Dustin's hands waved dismissively. "All I'm saying is that you tend to get your ass kicked. A lot. I'm talkin' fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye, lots of blood-" The kid just went on and on, despite Steve starting to argue over him. And while Owen was distracted by their spirited conversation about Steve's growing list of failures when it came to fighting, she completely missed the epiphany Robin was having.

Robin suddenly leapt from her seat, speeding through the swinging door to make a beeline for the front counter. Owen turned around and shoved the glass window open just in time to see her grab every single dollar in the tip jar. "Hey, hold on! What're you doing?"

Her backpack was already slung over her shoulder as she hurried around the counter. "I need cash," Robin stated, like that explained anything at all.

Steve stepped out of the break room with a thump of the swinging door against the wall. "Well, most of that is ours," he whined, as Robin continued to walk backwards out of the store. "Where're you goin'?"

Robin smirked. "To find us a way into that room — a safe way," she explained. "And in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don't get beat up. I'll be back in a jiff!"

And with that, Robin took off into the crowd of people, leaving Steve Harrington, Captain Banana Split Beard, and an unpaid child to man the ice cream shop. Not one of her brightest ideas.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

While Robin was off doing god knows what, Owen took on the temporary ice cream slinging position. Of course, her minimal experience with a scooper made it much more difficult than it needed to be. Meanwhile, Steve insisted on manning the register, leaving Owen to fend for herself when it came to actually serving the ice cream.

She almost lost it when a family of six stepped up to the counter to order, each of them ordering various sundaes, cones, and milkshakes. The littlest one even wanted a banana split — a recipe with a complexity that nearly broke her.

"Owen, you literally gave that one kid a half of a scoop for an entire cone," Steve scolded once the family wandered away with their subpar ice cream treats.

Her eyes rolled as she slouched tiredly against the counter. "She'll survive. We don't all get exactly what we want in life," she huffed. "If we did, do you really think I'd be here, scooping ice cream in an itchy pirate costume?"

Steve shrugged in begrudging acceptance. "Yeah, okay... Fair."

When Robin finally marched back into Scoops, Owen couldn't have been happier to see her. "Oh, thank God, you're back," she gasped, pushing off of the counter. She roughly shoved past Steve to walk with Robin back into the break room. "Never leave me here alone again," Owen whispered, threateningly.

Robin's brows furrowed in confusion as she looked over at her. "I didn't leave you alone. Steve's he–" she started, then realized what she was about to say. Her expression turned apologetic very quickly. "Shit, you're right. That's on me."

With a curt nod, Owen parted ways with Robin once the entire group had reconvened in the break room. "It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder's office," Robin declared. Owen dropped into one of the chairs as Robin splayed a large, intricate map across the table. "Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints."

"Not bad," Dustin said as he and Steve crowded around the table.

Robin's freckled face lit up in a smirk before she continued, pointing between two specific points on the blueprints. "So, this is us, Scoops... and this is where we want to get."

Steve studied the map for only a moment before commenting, "I mean, I don't really see a way in." And for once, Owen actually agreed with him. "Yeah, other than the door we've already seen, it seems like we're still at square one with a way into this place."

But this only fueled a mischievous glint in Robin's eye. At rapid speed, she tore away the top layer of blueprints, revealing another sheet that was littered with even more components. "But what if we didn't use a door?"

Like usual, the idea clicked for Dustin much faster than for Owen and Steve. "Air ducts," he gasped in realization.

A proud, toothy smile made a rare appearance on Robin's face as she nodded. "Exactly."

Owen, on the other hand, was taking in the blueprints with a clearer understanding. Her dark eyes were wide as she examined the layout of air ducts that spanned across the entire mall. "Holy shit..." she breathed. This was some real spy shit that Robin had in mind.

"Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room," Robin explained, stepping over to the white board to grab the bright red marker. When she returned to the table, she used the marker to trace along the blueprints, giving the group a visual. "And these air ducts lead all the way..." The marker squeaked as it ran along the map. "... here."

And she meant 'here' very literally. According to the blueprints, the air ducts that fed into Scoops Ahoy were the exact same ones that blew into the secret room. The entire group slowly turned their attention to the rather small vent overhead, eyeing it with a newfound appreciation.

"Well, shit... What are we waitin' on? Let's see if this is even possible," Steve said, standing from his seat. He set everyone in motion with his sentiment, each of them doing their part to get someone up and into that vent. Propping up the ladder, grabbing a flashlight, and finding a screwdriver to pop it open.

Before long, Steve was face-to-face with the vent grille, sliding it away from the wall once it was screwed loose. He wordlessly passed it down to Owen, who stood at the base of the ladder. "Flashlight," he requested, words slurred with the screwdriver tucked between his teeth.

Dustin passed it up, allowing Steve to get a close look at the air duct. "Yeah, I don't know, guys. I don't know if we can get Dustin in there. It's like... super tight," he informed the group. But Dustin wasn't worried. "Nah, I'll fit. Trust me," he assured them. "No collar bones, remember?"

"Excuse me?" Robin chuckled breathlessly. Steve leapt down from the ladder and Owen instinctively placed a hand on his lower back to steady him once he hit the ground. With her other hand, she held the edge of the ladder while Dustin ascended it, desperately trying to make sure there were no injuries on the job.

"Oh, he's, uh... Yeah, he's got some disease. Chry- uh... It's chrydo- um..." Steve attempted to explain, stuttering through almost every word.

"Cleidocranial dysplasia," Owen chimed in, supplying the word for him.

"That's it." Steve snapped and shot a finger gun her way. "Basically, he's just missin' bones and stuff. He can bend like Gumbo."

Robin's eyebrows knitted together. "You mean Gumby," she corrected.

"I'm pretty sure it's Gumbo," Steve chuckled. He sent Owen a semi-discreet look that could only be interpreted as Steve going 'Can you believe this girl?' Unable to tell him that he was actually the one in the wrong, she just gave him a lopsided grin and hoped that that was a good enough response.

"Steve, just shut up and push me!" Dustin ordered, his voice echoing around the air duct. The barking tone made Steve roll his eyes. "Okay, jeez... I'll push ya."

When he began to climb the ladder too, Owen's jaw clenched, fairly certain that two people on one ladder didn't make it any more safe. Her sweaty palm released the metallic edge, only to step around and hover anxiously behind Steve as he pushed Dustin by the bottoms of his feet.

"Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!"

Steve's eyebrows twitched downward, hoping that he misheard. "What?"

"Touch my butt! I don't care!" Dustin bossed.

Owen's cheeks puffed up and deflated as she blew out a long stream of air, anxiety growing as she watched Steve climb even higher to get better leverage. "Guys, I really don't think this is-"

"Come on! Harder! Push harder!"

"I'm pushing! I just have terrible footing right now."

Robin could only stand back and watch the chaos ensue in front of her. This wasn't exactly how she imagined her idea unfolding when she left to get the blueprints. She could only tear her eyes away from that trainwreck when she heard the front counter bell dinging.

Like clockwork, Erica Sinclair and her group of friends were waiting to collect their daily slew of samples. "Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck! Ahoy!" she called out, giving Robin a taunting salute through the glass window. "C'mon... Get over here and serve me some samples."

But the sight of the little girl had already illuminated the lightbulb above Robin's head.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Owen wasn't aware that she could even get more anxious about the ladder situation, but seeing tiny little Erica climbing up to peer into the air duct nearly gave her a heart attack. This time, she was using both hands to hold the bottom of the ladder, her eyebrows pinched together as she watched Erica shine the flashlight into the rectangular hole in the wall.

Thankfully, the little girl just made an unimpressed sound before switching the light off and coming back down to the ground again. "Yeah, I don't know," Erica said, plainly. Owen stepped back, situating herself beside Steve and the others.

"You don't know if you can fit?" Dustin questioned.

"Oh, I can fit," she assured him before going on. "I just don't know if I want to."

Owen pursed her lips. "Understandable..." she muttered beneath her breath. Steve must've heard because he jabbed his elbow into her bicep shortly after.

"Are you claustrophobic?" Robin inquired as she slouched against the break room counter. It seemed like a pretty reasonable question in Owen's eyes, but it only made Erica snicker.

"I don't have phobias," she shot back.

Steve crossed his arms, sternly eyeing the girl in front of them. "Okay... Well, what's the problem?"

Erica braced herself against the table, pressing her palms against the sticky surface. Her eyes shot between the four teens in front of her, sizing them up before she continued. "The problem is, I still haven't heard what's in this for Erica," she spelled out, indignantly.

Other than the crumpled dollar bill in her pocket, Owen was pretty sure that she had nothing to offer this child in exchange for her help. She slowly dragged her eyes up towards Steve, hoping that he had some kind of idea.

"Yeah, okay. What... What were you thinkin'?" he gritted.

Erica's cherubic face lit up in what could only be described as an impish look, clearly already aware of exactly what she wanted.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

One of almost everything from the Scoops menu covered the table as the entire group squeezed into a booth. Steve slid in next to Owen and delivered the final menu item: one of those goddamn banana splits. One of the worst things to make, as Owen had recently learned.

He shoved it across the table, only for Erica to push it right back in his direction. "More fudge, please." Owen could feel her eye start to twitch as she grew increasingly annoyed with the situation. "Go on," Erica said, waving him out of the booth again.

Robin, Dustin, and Owen all watched him with bated breath, noticing the way his jaw clenched before he took the banana split back behind the counter. But Steve handled it like a champ, keeping his undoubtedly frustrated thoughts to himself. Owen's eyes stayed on him much longer than the others, unable to stop herself from admiring his back as he trailed away. Hell, she even had to admit that his ass in those shorts was doing something for her.

"Alright. You see this?" Robin's voice ripped Owen from her own raunchy thoughts. She tuned back into the conversation as Robin displayed the blueprints to Erica. "This is the route you're gonna take. Then, we just wait till the last delivery goes out tonight. Then, you knock down the grate, jump down, open the door."

Erica stabbed her straw further into her float. "Then you find out what's in those boxes?"

Robin nodded. "Exactly."

"Mm-hmm," Erica hummed in understanding. But it was like Owen could hear how unconvinced she still was. "And you say this guard is armed." Erica studied the three of them closely.

Dustin spoke up first, quick to reassure her. "Yes, but he won't be there."

"And what about booby traps?" Erica pressed.

Owen's eyebrows furrowed. "Booby traps?" she repeated.

"Lasers, spikes in the wall?" Erica listed off, making Robin chuckle aloud. Owen merely pressed her lips into a firm line, not able to completely write off the existence of booby traps. After all, she wasn't sure what was in those boxes and what the Russians were willing to do to protect it.

"You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me?" Erica prompted, glancing around the group. "Child endangerment."
"We'll be in radio contact with you the whole time—" Robin started.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Erica interrupted, holding up a single finger to shush the older girl. Then, she made sure to reiterate with ample amounts of emphasis. "Child! Endangerment!"

Owen chewed nervously at the inside of her cheek, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious that this child was more concerned about her own safety than the older kids in the room. She hated to admit it, but Erica had a point. If things went awry, there would be some serious repercussions if anything happened to her or Dustin.

However, the younger boy didn't seem to be too worried about that. "Erica? Hi, uh... We think these Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm. Don't you love your country?" Dustin implored.

"You can't spell 'America' without 'Erica'," she replied, stirring her float. Owen glanced at Robin, their brows furrowed. Was that even an answer? Obnoxious slurping ensued as Erica began drinking the rest of her float, still completely unbothered.

"Uh... Yeah, yeah. Oddly, that's, uh, totally true," Dustin conceded, despite being rather confused himself. "So, don't do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man. Do this for America... Erica."

Erica's loud slurping didn't cease until the entire float was gone. "Ooh! I just got the chills." A shiver wracked her tiny body as a smile tore across her face. But it disappeared as quickly as it arrived, dissolving into a deadpan look. "Oh, yeah, from this float, not your speech."

"Know what I love most about this country?" Once again, Erica settled her elbows on the table, narrowing her eyes at the others. "Capitalism. Do you know what capitalism is?" The teens' response was worn-down, but affirmative.

Erica continued on with an explanation anyway. "It means, this is a free market system. Which means, people get paid for their services, depending on how valuable their contributions are. And it seems to me, my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. And I'm talking free ice cream for life."

As Erica munched on one of the many maraschino cherries in front of her, Owen worriedly scanned the group. If they really wanted to get into that room, this seemed to be their only viable option. But this almost ensured that Erica and her posse would be visiting Scoops every day in the near future.

Owen sighed as her eyes dropped shut. "This better be worth it."

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Nighttime had overtaken Starcourt Mall. The parking lot was empty, illuminated only by the moon and a couple scattered streetlights. Dustin, Robin, Owen, and Steve were back in position on top of the mall, keeping a close eye on the unguarded door into that secret room. With their trusty pair of binoculars and Dustin's walkie talkie, the group was prepared to take the next step of their mission.

"Erica, do you copy?" Robin inquired over the radio.

Erica's reply was immediate, reporting from inside the Scoops Ahoy break room. "Mm-hmm. I copy. You nerds in position or what?" Owen glanced sideways at Steve, not sure how they qualified as 'nerds', but choosing not to question it. Nerds by association, if she had to guess.

"Yeah, we're in position. It's all quiet here, so you've got the green light."

"Green light, roger that," Erica repeated. "Commence Operation Child Endangerment."

Owen winced as Steve huffed out a sigh. "Can we maybe not call it that?" Robin asked. But Erica promptly ignored the request, instead announcing, "See you on the other side, nerds."

And with that, their child spy went radio silent. Owen sat back onto her heels, sweaty palms resting on top of her thighs as Erica entered the air ducts. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her traitorous mind running through all the things that could go wrong. "Shit..." she whispered, her teeth tearing away at the skin of her lower lip.

Minutes felt like hours as the group waited on Erica's signal. At some point, Owen had to stop chewing at her lip after the taste of blood met her tongue, all metallic, gross, and familiar. But finally, Erica's voice crackled through the walkie talkie, all out of breath from the army-crawling she had been doing.

"Alright, nerds. I'm there."

"Do you– Do you see anything?" Robin faltered, feeling kind of weightless with how close they were to getting into that room.

"Yeah, I see those boring boxes you're so excited about."

"Any guards?"

"Negative."

"Booby traps?"

"If I could see them, they'd be pretty shit traps, wouldn't they?" Erica retorted, making an excellent point. Owen breathed out a shaky laugh as Steve peered over his shoulder at her, an amused smirk on his face.

"Thank you for that," Robin sighed, sarcastically.

After another beat of silence from Erica's end, the announcement they had all been waiting for arrived. "I'm in."

Still, despite knowing that that was the plan all along, the full understanding of the situation seemed to hit Steve all at that moment. "Oh, god..." he breathed, raking his hands through his hair. And although Owen was equally as nervous, she still gave him a gentle pat on the back, an attempt at reassurance.

Movement just over Steve's shoulder caught her attention. Hardly able to believe her own eyes, Owen surged forward, clutching onto the edge of the roof for support. The doors to the forbidden room were swinging open, displaying Erica, safe and sound after her spy mission. "Oh my god!" Owen gasped, her hand pressed to her chest once she could finally breathe again.

Erica stopped just beyond the doors, propping a hand on her hip. "Free ice cream for life," she reminded them, her voice reverberating across the pavement. And the others were far too elated to even be mad about it, all four of them exchanging giddy grins before taking off to meet her.

Actually stepping foot into that super secret room felt pretty underwhelming at first. Owen wandered around the perimeter of the room, getting a close-up of all the identical, boring boxes they had seen being delivered. As it turns out, the room really was just shelves and boxes with little panda bears printed on them. No exits, no secret trap doors to somewhere more interesting — just a room.

She sucked her teeth, preparing to make a snide comment when she heard someone slicing into a box. Owen spun around, eyes going wide when she saw Steve tearing into one of the boxes in the center of the room. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I thought we were supposed to leave no sign of us ever being in here," she chided.

"You think we went through all this trouble just to not look in these boxes?" Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, Webb... Yeah, right."

Despite her scolding, Owen still couldn't help but peek into the box once he had it open. Although she wasn't sure what exactly she was expecting, another box wouldn't have been her first guess. Except this box was plated with metal and had a pretty sturdy handle embedded into the top.

She watched closely as Steve wrapped a hand around the handle and twisted it, releasing a pressurized hiss of air. The entire lid was removed easily then, allowing for icy smoke to pour out and around the edges of the box. Everyone's heads knocked together as they leaned over the box, trying to get a look at whatever the Russians were transporting around the mall.

"That's definitely not Chinese food," Steve muttered nervously, his astute observation still making the corner of Owen's lips curve upwards. The box was filled with four more handles, smaller than the first and tucked into the four corners.

Of course, Owen's curiosity had been piqued and there was no going back from that. Her eyes were suddenly a little wild, fingers itching to reach in and get a better look at what they were dealing with. "Are you just gonna stand there and look at it, Harrington?" she taunted. Then, she was struck with a brilliant idea, one that had her hand reaching over the edge of the box. "If so, I can just–"

"Yeah, that's not happening," Steve interrupted, giving her a stern look and moving her hand back down to her side. "I should do it, okay? Just in case. But you guys all need, you know, to take a big step back."

Robin and Erica each took their step back, happy to avoid whatever was in that box. But Dustin and Owen's feet were cemented to the floor on either side of Steve. He glanced at both of them, confusion written on his features. "C'mon, Harrington... Yeah, right," Owen half-heartedly chuckled, parroting his words back to him. She and Steve had faced much worse together, so they might as well take on this box of horrors together, too.

"Yeah, Steve. If you die, I die," Dustin declared. The bold statement made everyone look at him a little funny, but that was hardly anything out of the usual. Steve just stared at Dustin for a moment, giving the kid a chance to back out — a chance he didn't take. "Okay," Steve said with a simple shrug. There was no use fighting with two of the most stubborn people he had ever met, anyway.

So, Steve took a deep breath and reached into the box, carefully twisting one of the handles. Slowly, he lifted out a canister filled with... green sludge? Or liquid? Owen's upper lip curled in disgust as she leaned forward to get a better look.

The substance glowed slightly, casting an unnatural light upon their faces. Tiny bubbles shimmered and climbed around the glass walls of the cylinder. It almost didn't look real. Owen kind of thought it looked like some shit she had seen in a movie, maybe even something aliens would make.

"What the hell?" Steve murmured, just above a whisper.

"What is that?" Robin wondered.

Before any of them could form an idea about the mysterious green substance, the entire room shuddered, accompanied by harsh, metallic grating. As every pair of eyes in the room darted about, looking for the source of that noise, Owen felt the electric shot spark rattle up her spine.

"Was that just me, or did the room move?" Dustin thought aloud.

Owen's eyebrows were pinched together when she looked over at him. "Not just you. We need to get the hell out of here. Now."

"Booby traps..." Erica whispered, her widened eyes showing just how scared she was despite 'having no phobias'. Again, the room shook, the intensity making the shelves wobble and nearly knock some of the boxes to the ground.

"You know what? Let's just grab that and go," Robin said, decisively. She stepped forward and grabbed the container out of Steve's hand, then tucked it away into Erica's My Little Pony backpack.

Dustin rushed over to the control panel attached to the wall, flinging it open to reveal the assortment of blue and green buttons. He was quick to press the lit-up button in the top corner, but the action had no results. Owen swallowed thickly as she watched him jab his finger against it repetitively.

"Which one do I press, Erica?" he stressed with a shaky voice.

"Just press the damn button, nerd," she ordered.

"Which one? I'm... I'm pressing the button, okay?"

Owen's ears were ringing as she listened to the two argue over which button to press, with Erica insisting that it was obvious and Dustin angrily informing her that it wasn't doing anything. Steve even intervened at some point, stepping in and pressing all of the buttons, instead.

In hopes of putting a stop to all the yelling and getting the hell out of this oversized booby trap, Owen pushed in between the boys so that she could give it a try. With trembling fingers, she slammed her palm against the bright green button in the center, attempting to follow her gut.

And although the button she pressed did do something, it wasn't exactly what she was hoping for. Her decision was followed by a loud bang as a bright red wall lowered between them and the exit, effectively cutting out that option. All of the previous shouting came to a halt as they each tried to process what just happened. The sinking feeling in Owen's stomach was just getting worse and worse with each passing second, consuming her with a feeling of unavoidable dread. And yet, she couldn't help but feel like the worst was yet to come.

Within seconds, the pit in her stomach was replaced with a sickening weightlessness. Something very similar to when you drop on a rollercoaster. Except they weren't on a rollercoaster. Nope, it was something much worse; they were in a room that was plummeting with no end in sight. The lights flickered overhead and screams filled the room as everyone tried to steady themselves.

Well, almost everyone. Owen couldn't help but remain unaffected by the all irregular movement, a weird party trick given to her by the motherfuckers at Hawkins Lab. But this just meant that she was able to overhear Steve's muttered 'Oh, shit'. She followed his line of sight, joining him in the realization about exactly what had happened when she pressed that button.

This wasn't a room — it was a runaway elevator headed straight towards hell.