( sometimes she wishes she weren't such a perfectionist — despite how well she might seem to handle these spontaneous... horrors, really, there's no telling when her mind will find rest even when it's all said and done. it's a constant fluttering beneath the surface, something that flirts with panic but isn't quite there, makes her question her actions the moment she's beginning them — like that she hadn't called any of the others, who would have absolutely been waiting in her drive by the time they got there. of course, every option has holes, one being there is no way dustin would've kept quiet enough to get past her parents, and secondly, is it really wise to involve more than who was absolutely necessary at this point and time?
for some reason, she'd been the one in those woods when he'd come stumbling through, she'd brought her car rather than taken her bike like she had for so long now, so she's just going to trust the process. at this point, nothing in hawkins really seemed like a coincidence.
by the time she makes it to the door he's managed to tug himself up against, weight slouched against it, and so she takes care to slip her hand in the second the door unlatches from its place when she opens it, making sure he doesn't spill out. getting him inside and up the stairs was going to be a feat on it's own, if he ended up on the floor now, she's not so sure she could get him up. )
Lets hope so... ( it's spoken in a breath, because she's yet to really see the state of him when he wasn't hidden by the dark of trees and shrouded in night.
for what she can, she's helping him twist around to step out feet-first, heart still hammering something wild in her chest. )
Try to use me— ( a huff, and she makes it evident what she means when she's tucking in to his shoulder to wrap his arm around her, wobbling til they're both taking a moments pause as he's upright once more, and on an exhale— ) There we go. ( and step by step she guides him, avoiding the motion light beside the garage. )
My parents should be in the living room. We just need to get past them.
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for some reason, she'd been the one in those woods when he'd come stumbling through, she'd brought her car rather than taken her bike like she had for so long now, so she's just going to trust the process. at this point, nothing in hawkins really seemed like a coincidence.
by the time she makes it to the door he's managed to tug himself up against, weight slouched against it, and so she takes care to slip her hand in the second the door unlatches from its place when she opens it, making sure he doesn't spill out. getting him inside and up the stairs was going to be a feat on it's own, if he ended up on the floor now, she's not so sure she could get him up. )
Lets hope so... ( it's spoken in a breath, because she's yet to really see the state of him when he wasn't hidden by the dark of trees and shrouded in night.
for what she can, she's helping him twist around to step out feet-first, heart still hammering something wild in her chest. )
Try to use me— ( a huff, and she makes it evident what she means when she's tucking in to his shoulder to wrap his arm around her, wobbling til they're both taking a moments pause as he's upright once more, and on an exhale— ) There we go. ( and step by step she guides him, avoiding the motion light beside the garage. )
My parents should be in the living room. We just need to get past them.