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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ; THE EASIEST WAY TO CONFUSE A TEENAGE GIRL
also known as;
( dig dug )

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"STAR, RUN!" STEVE'S VOICE ECHOED, SO FAR AWAY AND DISTANT STELLA COULD BARELY HEAR IT. Her wide, brown eyes were cast upwards, locked on the figure looming over her. Slime dribbled down it's long, inhumane body, it's skin the colour of purpling flesh and it's blank, empty head twisting menacingly. "Star!"

Stella wanted to run, but her feet were glued to the ground. She didn't realise she wasn't breathing, too distracted by how the creature drew closer and closer towards her, a low, horrid growl emitted from his its throat. Her lip trembled as she felt the door against her back, no way out as the monster's face opened up like a flower, rows and rows of sharp teeth glinting in the flickering Christmas lights. 

"Star!" Steve screamed, and Stella looked around quickly, only seeing a black abyss surrounding her, reflecting underneath the strings of lights overhead. "Star, run!"

The thick, ominous snarl caught her attention again, and she held her hands up before her, as if it would stop the demon from attacking her. She felt her heart beating like a drum, but still she couldn't feel herself breathing. 

The Demogorgon grew closer and closer until she could feel its sickly aura only inches away from her. It drew back for a second, before launching towards her...

Stella screamed as she shot up in her bed, sweat coating her entire being. She gasped out for air as her wide, frightened eyes dashed around the room, looking for a sign of the monster. Unconscious tears were streaming down her cheeks as she clutched her chest, which was rising and falling at the speed of light. 

The teenage girl fumbled at her side for her lamp switch, her good hand trembling with terror. After a moment of trying to compose herself, her room was illuminated with a warm, golden light, as if it were her only protection in that moment. Her sheets were a tangled mess on the floor and she sat unguarded on her mattress, gasping for breath like a wounded animal. 

Her broken wrist was pounding, and she felt sick to her stomach. She cradled her cast and glanced to her side, staring at the yellow digital clock on her bedside table, which read 3:47AM. A deep, exhausted groan left her chapped lips and she shuffled back, leaning against her wall.

She had lost count of how many times she had had the recurring dream. Sometimes it ended differently, with her lasting a few more seconds or actually being able to run away, though she would always be caught, and she would always die. It was utterly traumatising, and before last year, she wouldn't have been so scared by it. But now that she knew that such creatures exist, and it was a possible situation she could find herself in, she tossed and turned almost every night. 

When Nancy, Steve, the party, or even Jonathan Byers asked her how she was holding up, she always lied. She had said for almost a year now that she was perfectly fine, that there was nothing at all bothering her and that she had recovered from the traumatic events that had occurred in the Byers home. The truth was, she was still an utter mess. 

Maybe it was the fear that she would have to go through it again, maybe it was because there was so much loss and heartbreak in a single week than she had experienced in most of her life. Maybe it was because she had never been so conflicted, distressed and hopeless until she faced the impossible, and she wanted everyone else to recuperate before she did. 

How was she supposed to talk about her problems to anyone without bringing up unnecessary stress? She knew Mike was still hurting, as well as Will and Nancy. Mike had lost the one girl his age who didn't run from him and connected with him in ways no one else never could; Will was having episodes that he couldn't control and was being effected in ways she couldn't imagine; and Nancy had lost her best friend. Stella didn't know what to say to comfort her, as the Junior kept it mostly to herself in fear of it becoming more real. It was exhausting for everyone, but when she had no one to talk to about how she had remained scarred, there was no getting better.

She didn't want to pick up the phone to call anyone, she didn't know who she could talk to. For obvious reasons, Leilani, Kevin and Richie were out of the picture. She didn't know how deep she could get with the party, Joyce or even Chief Hopper, and she didn't want to inflict more misery on the already depressed Nancy. A huge part of her felt she needed to call Steve, who was just as involved as anyone in the matter. He was right there with her when it happened, but he had barely spoken of the events since it had happened. And besides, he had already done enough for her that week, the best she could do was leave him alone for a while. 

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"Who the hell plays croquet in Hawkins?" Steve asked, watching intently as Stella used her good hand to place long handled mallets in a wire basket. It was around four in the afternoon, and he had come to visit her on her shift at the general store, seeing as she couldn't handle another boring day of being cooped up at home and decided to work. She was advised by literally everyone not to do heavy lifting, but in her mind, a bunch of croquet equipment didn't count. 

"Me," she grinned up at him breathlessly, pushing herself off the ground and pulling out a yellow painted one. It was just the right weight and even though she'd never played the sport before, she knew she had to at least try at some point. Clearly amused by herself and the strange object in her hand, she held it up and swung it around a little, laughing softly. "I think it's about time our town gets pretentious, don't you?"

"God, no," Steve shook his head, though amusement flickered in his eyes as he bent down to help her clean up. "You aren't really gonna buy that, are you?"

"Employee discount," she responded cheerfully, before gasping excitedly. "Maybe I should start a roller-skating-croquet club!"

"Maybe you shouldn't," Steve shot back, gesturing to her arm that was still sitting in a sling (she had refused to wear it earlier, but he had managed to bribe her with ice cream to keep it on). "Unless you wanna be in a body cast."

"If that's the sacrifice I'll have to make," the raven-haired girl shrugged, placing the mallet on the floor for later and marching into the backroom with the box under her arm. She spun around as she hit the door with her back to open it, cheekily winking at the boy who was watching her with an entertained smile.

Once she was out of sight and the door had swung closed behind her, Stella's smile fell a little and she tossed the empty box into the bin at the end of the small stockroom. She paused for a moment and shut her eyes, leaning against one of the wooden racks that held many unused items, most from Halloween. She needed a moment to herself, as her recurring dream from the previous night was crawling back up on her, and she didn't know what to do. 

"Calm down, Stella," she exhaled, mumbling under her breath. Her entire body was shaking, and she felt completely lost. This wasn't the first time she had experienced feelings like this, the first being after Annie died, and especially after the week in November last year. She tried to deal with it, but there was no denying how difficult it was to try and ease herself out of the anxious feeling seeping through her bones. Both of her hands were stinging, the left because it was, well, broken, but the right was because she was digging her nails into her palm to try and bring herself out of the state she was in. "You're okay, just calm down."

"Hey, Star, what's taking so long?" She heard Steve yelling, but it seemed distant. Just like in her dream. 

"I-I'm coming!" She called back, her voice shaking slightly. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and opened her eyes, standing up straight and glancing down at her hand, where several indents from her nails resided. The teenage girl hesitated, before shoving her hand in the pocket of her jeans, putting on a smile and parading out the door, where Steve was standing with the yellow croquet mallet and a receipt. "What's up?"

"I bought you the mallet, since you're so keen on learning croquet," he grinned, before moving his other hand from behind his back to reveal a red one. "This one's for me. I figured we could do it together."

"Sounds great," Stella stepped forward and gratefully accepted her new gift, trying her best to remain positive. She didn't want him to worry about her more than he already was, and over the past year she had become a lot better in the practice of lying. "So, you're having ideas now, Harrington? God help us all."

"Har, har," Steve stuck his tongue out at her, before swinging his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, Cliff came in for his shift now, so we have the rest of the afternoon free!"

Stella nodded, trying to seem eager as she pulled off her name badge and dropped it in the pot next to the cash register. She couldn't deny that all the time she had been spending with Steve lately was great, but with everything on her mind, she wished she could have appreciated it more. There were fleeting moments when she was with him when their hands would brush and she'd feel a tickle in her stomach, or when she'd catch him looking at her and she'd feel her heartbeat pick up a little -- but by the end of the day she'd forgotten, because so much had been happening. 

"Uh, why don't we see if Nancy's in?" She asked softly once they left Melvald's General Store, and she felt Steve become a little rigid as he walked beside her. He was becoming more and more hesitant in winning her back, and she felt like she had something to do with that. "What? Do you not love her anymore?"

Steve hesitated. "Well...I don't know. I guess it's hard to be in love with someone who doesn't want to put in as much effort, or doesn't seem to care as much. I mean, I think I'll still always love her, but what if she's already moved on? Should I move on as well?"

"When the time is right, you'll know when to move on," Stella responded, staring at the ground while he stared at her. To him, it was clear that day that something had been bothering her, but he wasn't completely sure what. Naturally, he assumed that it was her wrist, which was why he stopped her and took the mallet from her good hand, tucking it in the large bag he was carrying. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, his hand resting on her upper arm. Stella's eyes were still downcast, trying to figure out what to respond with in the few seconds she had to think. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she pursed her lips, forcing a smile up at him. "I'm just tired, that's all. My wrist kept me up last night. But that doesn't matter, we're talking about you. So, what're you gonna do? Are you gonna bring her flowers?"

Her friend paused for a second, as if contemplating the idea. His face screwed up in a way that made a genuine smile briefly appear on Stella's face, before he spoke. "Yeah, as long you come with me though."

"As long as I get to wait in the car," Stella chuckled, reaching for his free hand with her uninjured one and squeezing it. "But, I'm with you till the end, pal."

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"Hey, it's Dustin," Stella mumbled quietly as she peered out the passenger window, seeing the curly haired boy dragging his feet away from the Wheeler home. Steve had just pulled up at the end of the cul-de-sac, a bunch of red roses on the dashboard for his ex-girlfriend. 

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" The long-haired boy asked nervously, and Stella patted his arm, an encouraging smile on her lips. 

"You have to do this on your own," she responded, and he sighed softly, kicking open his door and climbing out. She leaned across the seat to give him a thumbs up. "But yell for me if you need your wing-girl, handsome!"

"Yeah, whatever," Steve grumbled, shutting the door and sauntering down the front path, muttering to himself. Stella watched, sitting back in her leather seat and humming softly to herself, somewhat recovered from her little emotional episode back in the shop. She felt a little bit hollow like she usually did after the wave of unsure emotions, but she had to fill it somehow to make sure no one noticed. 

Her posture straightened up a little as she saw Dustin march over to Steve, stopping in front of him before snatching the roses. "Wait, what?"

The curly haired boy began approaching the red BMW, and her eyebrows furrowed when he raised his hands when he saw her in the passenger seat, as if to say 'seriously?'. She shrugged as he threw open the door leading to the backseat, and she turned to see him staring at her in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Why didn't you answer my Code Red on the comms?"

"English, please?" Stella asked, her voice soft and puzzled as Steve climbed back into the car, just as confused. 

"I'll explain on the way," the young boy grumbled, watching as the teenagers in front of him exchanged a look. "Steve, drive!"

"Okay, okay!" Steve shot back, starting his car. Stella felt even more bewildered when they took off back down the street with one more passenger than they had intended, and certainly one she was surprised to see. As music from the radio blasted through the small space, Steve leaned in to whisper in Stella's ear. "He wants to know if I still have the bat."

"The bat?" She repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You mean the-"

"Yup," he nodded, his hands twisting around the steering wheel, his fists slowly turning white. His eyes flickered into the rearview mirror to see Dustin fiddling with his strange and complex headset. "Kid, what the hell's going on?"

The curly haired boy huffed, before leaning forward and placing his hands on the backs of their seats. "Well..."

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AHHHHHH IDK HOW THIS CHAPTER WAS!?!?!?!?

dedicated to smolbeanvik

(^^ i got a few requests last chapter so the dedications are gonna be spread out!)

so pleassseseseEEE tell me what you thought of this chapter!! i know it was a little deeper than the other ones, but i'm sad today so stella's gonna be sad as well lmao. i also wanted to show that despite how she insisted that she was happy after the events that took place the previous year, homegirl is a meSS cause, um, she fought a scary monster and nearly lost one of her friends?? that's pretty traumatising not gonna lie -- and also i've always seen stella as a hufflepuff type and i feel like hufflepuffs always put the needs of others before themselves and end up suffering silently because they don't want to bother people??!?? just me?? okay lol

and a small disclaimer! ik that i'm probably taking this too seriously but just in case,,, stella is currently dealing with very mild mental struggles that aren't necessarily identified, but homegirl clearly can be in a bad headspace. i'm not gonna be a cow and put her in a relationship with steve and have all her problems suddenly go away, cause i'm not about that life!! the duffer brothers managed to keep nancy's trauma and her relationship with steve separate, because romanticising loss is dumb and completely incorrect!! i want stella to be as real as possible (for, ya know, a sci-fi fanfic character), so she feels everything a lot, but it doesn't define her :)))

hope you enjoyed, i would've updated sooner but they finally put the first season of this is us on amazon prime and i watched the entirety of it since i posted last haAAHAHAH 

catch ya later dudes!! xo