Chapter 30: The Hospital
Steve - Three Days Later, November 13, 1983
The hospital room had become command center.
Flowers everywhere—Joyce sent a bouquet, the Party brought balloons, even Tommy and Carol left something (guilt gift, probably). Cards covered the windowsill. Balloons spelled out "GET WELL SOON" in helium letters.
I sat propped in bed, ribs healing slower than I wanted but faster than doctors expected. Pain Heal didn't work on myself—I'd tried and discovered it just amplified the agony. But Fight Master's enhanced durability meant my body recovered at accelerated rate naturally.
Three days post-rescue. Will was home, adjusting. Barb was two rooms down, Nancy at her bedside constantly. El was with Hopper, learning what family meant.
And the cover-up was holding.
Dr. Sam Owens visited daily, coordinating the official story. He was different from Brenner—pragmatic instead of obsessive, interested in containment rather than exploitation.
"The paperwork's finalized," Owens said, reviewing files. "All medical records list exposure and injuries consistent with search-and-rescue operation. Lab security footage from November 10th has been... misplaced. Dr. Brenner has been reassigned pending review."
"Reassigned. Not fired. Not arrested."
"Politics above my level. But he's not running Hawkins Lab anymore. New oversight protocols in place." Owens looked at me. "You should be proud. You saved two kids and exposed a rogue operation. That matters."
"And if Brenner comes back?"
"Then we deal with it." Owens closed the files. "For now, focus on healing. You've earned rest."
After he left, Robin and Eddie visited—bringing contraband pizza and D&D manuals.
"You look like death warmed over," Robin said cheerfully.
"Thanks. You're glowing with support."
Eddie sprawled in the visitor chair. "Dude. You broke into a government facility, fought an interdimensional monster, and lived. You're officially the most metal person in Hawkins."
"That's not the endorsement you think it is."
"Take the compliment, Harrington."
We ate pizza and talked about nothing—music, movies, Eddie's latest Hellfire campaign. Normal conversation. Grounding.
Robin waited until Eddie left to ask the real question.
"The thing you can do. The healing. Is that why you survived?"
"Partially. It doesn't work on myself, but it helped keep Barb alive long enough to extract." I met her eyes. "And before you ask—yes, there are costs. Using it drains me. Makes me vulnerable. But it's worth it."
"Worth dying for?"
"Worth risking death for people who matter."
Robin nodded slowly. "You're either the bravest person I know or the stupidest."
"Can't it be both?"
"Definitely both."
Nancy - Barb's Hospital Room, Same Day
Barb stared at her left hand—at the stumps where fingers used to be. The surgeons had cleaned the wounds, prevented infection, but couldn't restore what the Demogorgon had taken.
"I'm going to have to learn everything again," Barb said quietly. "Writing, typing, playing piano. Everything."
"You'll adapt." Nancy sat beside her, their usual positions. "You're the smartest person I know. You'll figure it out."
"I almost died."
"But you didn't."
"Because Steve Harrington—King Steve, the jock I always thought was a shallow asshole—broke into a government facility and crossed into another dimension to save me." Barb laughed, bitter and amazed. "I owe him everything and I barely know him."
"He saved you because it was right. Not for recognition or reward."
"Which makes him genuinely heroic. That's... complicated."
Nancy understood. Their worldview had shattered. The popular kids weren't all shallow. The outcasts weren't all good. People contained multitudes.
"Things are different now," Nancy said. "We've seen things. Been places. We can't go back to how it was before."
"Would you want to?"
"No. Would you?"
Barb looked at her ruined hand. "No. This matters more than being popular or fitting in. We know what's really out there now. We can't unknow it."
"So what do we do?"
"We survive. We adapt. And we make sure nobody else gets taken."
Nancy squeezed Barb's good hand. "Agreed."
Eleven - Hopper's Cabin, Evening
The cabin was small, rustic, isolated. Hopper said it was temporary—just until the adoption paperwork finalized and he could get her into town properly.
But El liked it. Quiet. Safe. No lab. No Papa. No bad men.
Hopper was making dinner—something called spaghetti that smelled strange but good. He moved around the kitchen with careful patience, like he'd forgotten how to cook for someone other than himself.
"Jane," he called. Still getting used to the name. "Dinner in five."
"Okay."
She sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching TV. Hopper had explained TV—pictures and stories from far away. She found it fascinating.
The news played. Reports about the "freak storm" and "search and rescue operation." Photos of Will and Barb. Interview with Chief Hopper describing the heroic efforts.
No mention of her. No mention of monsters or gates or the Upside Down.
"They're lying," she said when Hopper brought plates.
"They're protecting. Big difference." Hopper sat beside her. "The truth would cause panic. People aren't ready."
"But I opened the gate. I caused this."
"Papa caused this. Brenner. The people who hurt you and made you do things. Not you." Hopper's voice was firm. "You're a victim. And now you're a kid with a second chance."
"And you're my... father?"
"Legally. On paper. We can figure out what it means day by day."
El ate the spaghetti. Strange texture but good taste. She liked it.
"Steve says you lost a daughter. Sara."
Hopper went still. "Yeah. Cancer. Long time ago."
"I'm not her."
"I know."
"But I need someone. And you need someone. Maybe we can be family anyway."
Hopper's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Yeah. Maybe we can."
They ate in comfortable silence. New family. Strange family. But family.
Steve - Final Day in Hospital, November 14, 1983
The Party arrived en masse for my discharge—Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Max (who'd become permanent member somehow). They brought flowers, balloons, and a collective hug that nearly broke my healing ribs.
"You're officially the coolest person in Hawkins," Dustin declared.
"I fought a monster and nearly died. That's not cool, that's stupid."
"Brave stupid," Lucas corrected. "There's a difference."
Mike stood back, arms crossed, trying to look tough. "Thanks. For saving Will. For everything."
"You helped too. All of you did. This was team effort."
"But you led the team," Will said softly. "You made us believe we could do it."
Max punched my arm—gentle, but firm. "And you proved girls can kick ass too. Nancy was amazing."
"Nancy was terrifying," I agreed.
They stayed for an hour, telling stories about school, D&D, life returning to normal. When they left, the room felt quieter.
Chrissy came last. Sat beside me, held my hand, didn't speak for long minutes.
"I thought you were going to die," she finally said.
"I didn't."
"But you could have. You almost did. And I wouldn't have understood why. Because you still haven't told me everything."
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both." I met her eyes. "There are things I know, things I've prepared for, that I can't explain without sounding insane. But everything I've done, every risk I took, was to protect people I care about. Including you."
"By keeping secrets?"
"By keeping you safe. The less you know about certain things, the safer you are."
Chrissy absorbed this. "I don't like it. But I trust you. So I'll wait until you're ready."
"Thank you."
"But Steve? Next time you decide to be heroic, at least give me warning so I can say goodbye properly. Just in case."
"Deal."
She kissed me—soft, gentle, promise of more when I wasn't covered in bandages.
When she left, I was alone with my thoughts.
Arc 1 complete. Will saved. Barb saved. Demogorgon dead. Eleven integrated. The Party established as my team. Hopper as ally. Three years of preparation paid off.
But this is just the beginning. Mind Flayer is still out there. Season 2 events coming. Billy Hargrove arriving. Bob Newby—the death I've never prevented. So many threats ahead.
Rest now. Prepare later. The real war hasn't started yet.
I closed my eyes and let healing sleep take me.
Outside, November sunlight broke through clouds for the first time in days. Hawkins looked almost normal again.
Almost.
But those who knew the truth understood: things would never be normal again.
The Upside Down was closed. The Demogorgon was dead. The kids were safe.
For now.
That would have to be enough.
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