Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is hell.

Max…no Ziggy, had just stepped off the plane from Hawkins, the summer sun beating down like punishment. The heat clung to her skin and the sky was too bright. But truthfully, she was relieved to be away.

Ever since Billy died, Hawkins stopped feeling like home. Everything she and her mom knew fell apart the moment Neil walked out and left them alone. After helping the Byers move and saying goodbye to El, the nightmares started. Billy’s face, Billy’s voice, Billy’s blood. Again and again. That was the beginning of the end for her and Lucas.

Sweet Lucas. She loved him. She really did. Maybe she still does. But she felt too broken, and no one deserved to love someone who couldn’t recognize their self. Billy had been a terrible brother, but he tried. Lucas was kind and patient and hopeful, and she couldn’t bear to keep letting him believe she was still the girl he fell in love with. He deserved better, even if he kept insisting she was enough just the way she was.

Now she was in Shadyside. Her old home, her old name. Sent to live with her father and half-sister Cindy, who she hadn’t seen in years. It was time to be Ziggy Berman again, the weirdo from the Shadyside. The girl she had tried so hard to forget.

At baggage claim, she spotted her dad waving at her. She barely recognized him at first. He looked older, more tired. Time had drawn lines around his eyes.

He smiled wide as she approached.

“Ziggy!”

She flinched but didn’t correct him right away.

“It’s, uh, Max now actually.”

“Oh. Like Maxine?”

“Yeah. Neil liked that more than Ziggy.”

“Right,” he said, a little awkwardly. “Well, I’m really glad you’re here. Cindy’s home right now, cleaning up your old room.”

“Great,” she replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

Another sibling. Cindy was her dad’s daughter from his first marriage. When they were younger, Ziggy adored her. Cindy was smart and cool and brave. But when her mom got custody, she told Ziggy to forget about her. Forget about Shadyside. Forget about all of it.

She tried. But memories like that never stayed buried for long.

The car ride was mostly silent. They pulled into the same old neighborhood. Cracked sidewalks. Overgrown yards. Nothing had changed. That was the worst part.

Her dad helped her with her bags and unlocked the front door.

“Cindy! We’re home!”

“Ziggy! Welcome back!” Cindy called out, stepping into view. She looked different. Her hair was clean and straight, pulled into a neat ponytail. No dyed streaks, no ripped band tees. She wore a pale blue polo and khaki shorts. It didn’t look like Cindy, not the one she remembered.

“Yeah. I guess,” Max said, not bothering to correct her name

“I heard about Billy. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

Another pause. Heavy silence.

“Anyway,” Cindy said, “I’ll show you to your room. It’s basically the same since…”

“Since I left.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there for a moment, neither sure what to say.

Max grabbed her bag. “I’m really tired from the flight. Can I rest for now?”

“Of course. I’m heading to work, and Dad’s leaving soon too. We’ll catch up later.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

She closed the door behind her, leaving Max alone in the room. Everything looked the same. Same scratched-up dresser. Same crooked mirror. Same posters. It felt like stepping into a museum of someone she didn’t know anymore. Her only comfort was the same old books she used to read. From Judy Blume to King. 

She dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. The ceiling fan creaked slowly above her. The air smelled like dust and old summer.

This wasn’t Hawkins. It wasn’t home either. It was Shadyside. And it was Ziggy Berman’s summer again.

She fell asleep, hoping the nightmares wouldn’t catch up.

——

She still dreams of that day.

Billy’s body crashing to the ground after the Mind Flayer tore through him. The way he looked at her. The way he apologized. That haunted look in his eyes before the light went out. Some nights, she dreams of him protecting her. Others, he’s yelling. Telling her it was her fault. That she stood there and let it happen. That she wanted him to die.

She didn’t.

Today is one of those days.

Max gasps awake, drenched in sweat. Her heart pounds like a drum in her chest, each beat echoing through her ribs. Her hands shake. The walls of her old room feel like they’re closing in.

She gets up and heads downstairs, the house too quiet, then suddenly not quiet at all.

Cindy and their dad are sitting in the kitchen, mid-conversation.

“Hey kiddo, rest well?” her dad asks.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Great. So listen. Cindy just got accepted as a counselor for Camp Nightwing next month, and I thought, why not have you come along with her?”

She blinks.

“You’re joking. Camp Nightwing? Aren’t I a little too old for that?”

“No. You’re right at the cutoff age. I think it’s perfect. We can spend some time together while I’m working. Plus, you’ll get to meet my boyfriend, Tommy.”

Ziggy doesn’t even try to hide her grimace.

“Tommy. Tommy Slater? The football player? Since when do you go for guys like that?”

Cindy bristles. “Tommy’s not just some dumb jock. He’s actually really sweet. I think you’ll like him if you give him a chance.”

“Right. Sure. Whatever.” Max crosses her arms. “It’s not like I have a choice if you’re dragging me to camp again.”

Cindy forces a smile. “That’s the spirit.”

Their dad stands up and grabs his keys.

“Anyway, I’m heading out for a bit.”

“Dad, again?” Cindy asks, not hiding her disappointment.

“Lay off, Cindy. I’ll be back later.”

He leaves without another word. The front door shuts hard behind him. Ziggy watches the silence grow thick.

“He’s… he’s been drinking more since you guys left,” Cindy mutters.

Ziggy nods. “Yeah. I figured.”

They stand in the kitchen, neither looking at the other. The light above them flickers for just a second. Cindy folds her arms.

“I’m glad you agreed to camp,” she says quietly. “I know it’s not the best, but… Dad can’t work and take care of us at the same time.”

Ziggy scoffs under her breath. “So I’m just here to make your life easier. Got it.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You sure? Because this whole ‘let’s bond at summer camp’ thing? Sounds like a forced family photo.”

Cindy frowns. “I thought maybe it’d be good for us. You and me.”

“Oh really?” Ziggy asks, voice sharper than she intended. “You guys didn’t bother to call or send me a letter once in a while. You let Mom pull me away like I never mattered. And now you want us to play sisters at Nightwing?”

Cindy’s eyes narrow. “Are you serious right now?”

“You don’t get it,” Ziggy says, jaw clenched. “A lot of serious shit happened. Billy died. Neil left. And now you want me to go back to a stupid camp where only shit ever happens to Shadysiders.”

Cindy blinks, stunned. “You think Shadyside is cursed?”

“I know it is.”

Cindy laughs once, bitter and confused. “You’re not the only one who’s had bad things happen, Ziggy. Just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean the whole world is out to get you.”

Ziggy stiffens. “I didn’t ask to come here.”

“And I didn’t ask to raise a sister who acts like she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Ziggy flinches. That one hits hard. Harder than it should.

“I never said that,” she whispers.

“Yeah? You didn’t have to.”

Cindy storms off toward the hallway, footsteps echoing through the quiet house. Ziggy stays rooted in place, staring into her half-empty glass of water.

Chapter Text

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Ziggy kept repeating to herself as she tore through the forest, branches whipping at her face. Sheila and her stupid cronies were right behind her. She didn’t even take the stupid money.

She was so focused on running that she didn’t see Will Goode in front of her. She collided into him, falling hard onto the grass. Pain shot through her body as her back slammed against the ground. Her eyes fluttered open just in time to see Will, Sheila, and the others closing in.

“You're gonna hang, witch.” Sheila sneered at her as they drag her to the hanging tree while saying the stupid chant.

“String her up.” Shiela commands. She feels the burn of the rope on her skin as she is forcefully lifted up with her wrists tied together.

“No, stop it! Stop it! Stop. Let me down, you shits! Let me down!” Ziggy screamed, her voice hoarse and raw.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Shiela pulls out the pocket change Ziggy’s dad gave her.

“Goddamn thief!” Will spats out

“No. No, she's no thief. She's possessed by the witch. The only way to explain her psycho behavior,” Shiela taunts her with a smirk

“Fuck you!” Ziggy snarled, blood from her busted nose running into her mouth. She rammed her tied-up elbows into Sheila’s face causing her nose to bleed. She smirks. “Guess we're even now.”

“You do know what they did to Sarah Fier, right?” Sheila growled “They hanged her, from this very tree. But she'd have died forever if you did what you always do to witches…You burn them.”

She turns to Will.

“Give me your lighter!” She commands

“What?” Will stutters

“Give it to me!” She snatches the lighter from Will. “Now, hold her legs.”

“Seriously, Sheila?” Annie, croonie number one, questions her

“Do it!” Sheila ignores them

“No, no, no! Stop it! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!” Ziggy feels the burn on her arm. Shit. It’ll probably scar at this point.

Sheila continues to burn her using the arms. Her croonies are now protesting, saying she’s taking it too far for loose change. Ziggy cried as the flame touched her skin. The searing heat raced up her arm. She clenched her eyes shut, praying this was all just another nightmare. Maybe she deserved it for forgetting about the curse. Her thoughts are interrupted when a familiar voice calls out to them.

“The hell is this? Let her down!” Of course, Nick fucking Goode, would be the one to rescue her

“Shit! Will, your brother.” Bethany, croonie number two, panics

“Nick, I can explain” Will starts to say

“Let her down, Will! I swear to God I'll tell Mom!” Nick snapped at them.

The rope slackened, and Ziggy dropped like a stone onto the dirt. Her wrists still bound, she winced at the jolt. Nick was already there, crouching beside her, working quickly to untie the rope. His hands brushed her skin, and she felt a spark she didn’t expect. After not seeing Nick Goode for 5 years, he has definitely grown up now. If she wasn’t utterly pissed at Shiela right now, she would probably be sending a letter to El about him.

Kurt, a councilor from Sunnyvale, told the campers to line up and explain. One Shadysider against four Sunnyvalers. Great.

“I went back to my cabin, the door was open. All my money was gone and Ziggy was just sprinting away.” Shiela claimed, as if she didn’t try to burn Ziggy earlier

“Because you were chasing me.” Ziggy cuts her off

“Ziggy!” Kurt interrupts her “You talk when I tell you to talk.”

“Did you see her take it?” Nick asks, looking at his brother for answers

“Everyone did.” Will stated

“Everyone” Her goddamn croonies agrees with her

“Alright. Well, that's it, Berman. Five strikes. You're out.” Kurt justifies, not bothering to listen to her side

“I’m out? They just tried to murder me!” Ziggy protests, feeling the pressure of disappointing Cindy. She didn't want to disappoint her, she knows how hard she's working to get the hell out of Shadyside. 

“Yeah. And I'll deal with them. But first, get back to camp, call Daddy because you're done at Nightwing.” Kurt tells her

“I didn't do it.” She tells truthfully

“Oh, yeah? Like you didn't set the camp flag on fire? Or let out the camp rabbits? Or graffiti the outhouse stalls? I warned you…” Kurt goes on and on

“Kurt. It's not her fault, really. She's possessed by Sarah Fier.” Sheila interrupted, her grin smug and taunting.

“Oh, you…” Ziggy moves to hit her again but she feels a pair of arms intervene just in time. She felt his grip tighten slightly around her. A part of her expected him to side with the others. He was a Sunnyvaler after all. But instead, he spoke.

“We kick her out, somebody's gonna ask about the burn on her arm. Then who's in trouble? Huh? Why don't we just let this one slide? Yeah?” Nick Goode was saving her ass, a miracle.

Kurt pretends to contemplate but in reality, Ziggy knows he’ll just listen to Nick. He’s a Goode after all. Everyone listen to them.

“Alright. One more strike and you're out for real. You hear me, Berman? One more.” Kurt warns her holding up one finger as if she doesn’t understand what he’s saying.

“Being bossed around by a Goode. Wow, some things never change.” She mocks him as she pushes her way out of Nick’s hold. She feels his stare at her so she stares back with contempt. Her childhood crush on Nick Goode lasted before she left for California and now she wants nothing to do with him.

She started walking, fast, wanting nothing more than to have Nurse Lane check the burn and forget this whole day ever happened. She'll probably just hide in her cabin while Color War was going on, knowing Shiela was probably just planning to target her if she joined. 

“Hey,” Nick called, catching up beside her. “Have Nurse Lane check that burn out.”

He reached for her arm, the one Sheila had burned. His hand closed around it lightly. She didn’t want to feel anything, not when she just broke up with Lucas a month ago, but she did. She pulled away quickly.

“I’m gonna let it get infected and die,” she muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

“I don't get a thank you?” he asked behind her, half teasing.

She stopped, turned, and glared.

“Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot!” she snapped, voice rising.

“Thank you, King of Sunnyvale, future Police Chief Nick Goode, for rescuing poor, helpless Shadysider me! How could I ever repay you? Oh, I know. I'll bat my eyes at you, like all the other dumbass girls.”

She flipped him off, turned around, and walked away. Just before she looked away completely, she caught a glimpse of the smile tugging at his lips. She hated that smile.

Honestly, summer couldn’t get any worse.

Chapter Text

Ziggy stormed out of the nurse’s office with Cindy trailing close behind, arms folded like she had been rehearsing this lecture all day.

"Ziggy. You realize what happens if you get kicked out, right? How awful that would be for me?" Cindy berated her as they stepped into the sunlight.

Ziggy didn’t look at her. Her mind was still reeling from Nurse Lane’s wild-eyed expression, the cryptic ramblings, and that journal she had almost grabbed. Something about the way Nurse Lane had looked at her had sent a chill straight down her spine.

"Did someone do something to Nurse Lane? Like make fun of her daughter?" Ziggy asked, still disturbed.

"Ziggy, are you listening to me?" Cindy snapped, frustrated.

"She was upset," Ziggy said defensively. She hadn’t really been listening. Not to Cindy’s lecture. Not today. All summer Cindy had been on her case, constantly reminding her not to make trouble, like she wanted to make trouble on purpose.

"Do you hear what I'm saying to you?" Cindy’s voice cut through her thoughts again.

"Loud and clear, ma'am," Ziggy muttered.

"You don't. We had this conversation last week. And the week before that."

"I'm not gonna get kicked out."

"That's not what Kurt thinks."

"Yeah, well, Kurt can suck it," Ziggy grumbled, still annoyed about what happened with Sheila earlier that day.

"No. Ziggy, no," Cindy clutches onto Ziggy’s arm, forcing her to look at her and stop "If you get kicked out, I do too. Mom can't work and take care of you. Then how will I pay for college, huh?"

Ziggy laughed. She couldn’t help it. If only Cindy knew the half of it. She couldn’t exactly explain everything. Not Hawkins. Not the Mind Flayer. Not Billy. Not any of it. Cindy would never believe her. How could she? Compared to the Mind Flayer and the world literally ending, Cindy’s whole Shadyside drama felt like a joke.

"Oh, that's funny to you?" Cindy asked angrily.

"Yeah, kinda."

"Explain to me what's so funny."

"How dumb you are. No one gets out of this town. Not even Miss Perfect. Bet on your way out you get run over by a bus," Ziggy said with a cynical smirk.

"You got out."

"Yeah, and my stepbrother died. People I knew died. My stepdad up and left. And look where it got me. Back here."

"For once in your life, could you just not be so... so mean?"

"For once in your life, could you stop pretending? You're Shadyside, in case you forgot." She pulled the blue shirt for Color war from Joan and tossed it at her sister’s chest.

It hit Cindy with a soft slap, but the sting behind it wasn’t physical. Ziggy turned and stormed off, her stomach burning with anger and exhaustion. She wasn’t sure who she was more furious with. Cindy, Sheila, or herself.

———

They were wheeling Nurse Lane out of the mess hall now. Apparently, she’d tried to attack Tommy Slater, Cindy’s boyfriend. Ziggy actually liked Tommy. He was decent. Nice, even. He’d driven her to the library when Cindy couldn’t, always respectful, never condescending like so many others. But something about Cindy and Tommy had always felt... off. Like Cindy was forcing herself to believe in something perfect, just to survive this place.

Why would Nurse Lane go after him? What had she seen?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, nasal voice.

“Hey, witch. So sorry,” Sheila said condescendingly. “I know you and Nurse Psycho were close. You can visit her in jail now.”

“Fuck off, Sheila,” Ziggy sneered, not even looking at her.

“By the way, you might want to check your stuff. I think there was an accident in Cabin Five,” Sheila added mockingly.

Ziggy sprinted across camp, her fists clenched. She could hear Sheila and her little minions laughing behind her, their stupid jokes echoing in her ears.

When she burst into her cabin, she stopped cold. Slurs were scrawled across the walls in red: Ziggy is a witch bitch. Ziggy sucks cocks in hell.

Real original.

She immediately checked her belongings. Luckily, they hadn’t touched her box, the one she kept hidden under her bed. She knelt down and opened it, relief hitting her in a wave when she saw the old letters still tucked inside.

Some from El. Some from Dustin. A few drawings Lucas had given her, mostly stupid doodles, but they made her smile once.

El was still adjusting to losing Hopper, still living with the Byers and trying to figure out what it meant to be normal. Lucas was throwing himself into basketball. Dustin kept everything light, cracking jokes and making sure Max…no, Ziggy…didn’t feel totally forgotten.

She missed them. God, she missed them.

But staying in Hawkins hadn’t been an option. Not after everything. Not after Billy. Her mom, who was a housewife for most of her life, was now struggling to support her. Lucas had wanted her to stay, in his quiet way. He never really asked, but she could see it in his face. And maybe a part of her wanted to stay for him, too. But it hadn’t been enough. She didn’t feel like she was enough.

Here in Shadyside, things were awful in an entirely different way. Cindy didn’t understand. No one did. It felt like she was drowning all over again, and there was no one around who knew how to pull her up.

She stood, heart pounding, and walked over to her bedside table. Her copy of Carrie sat there, clearly worn out over the years re-reading it. She grabs it and heads to the Arts and Crafts room, ready to take revenge.

——

“What are you doing?” Cindy asked as she stepped into the art room.

Ziggy stood near a table, holding a bucket of bloody red paint, freshly opened and already dripping. She was going to Carrie Shiela.

“Art project,” she muttered sarcastically, not even looking up. She didn’t want to hear Cindy’s bullshit right now.

“I need to talk to you,” Cindy said, her voice tight with urgency.

“I’m not in the mood,” Ziggy grunted.

“Earlier, you said Mary was upset.”

“Oh, so now you care?” Ziggy snapped, glaring at her.

“Ziggy, this is serious,” Cindy said, stepping closer, trying to stop her sister in her tracks.

“It was serious earlier, and you didn’t give a shit,” Ziggy shot back. The words hit Cindy like a slap, because they were true.

“Come on, you were the last person to see her before she snapped. What about drugs? Did you see any around?”

“She’s a nurse, so yup.”

“Well, did she mention anything or…” Cindy trailed off, grasping at straws.

“Nope,” Ziggy replied flatly, popping the word like a bubble.

“Ziggy, I’m just… I’m trying to understand what happened today.”

“Who cares? It’s over.”

“Not for Tommy. He’s still freaked out and acting weird and…” Cindy’s voice faltered. “It’s just a big joke to everyone. 'Mary was possessed by the witch.'"

“Maybe it was the witch.”

“Ziggy…”

“What? That doesn’t fit your carefully constructed bullshit view of the world?”

“Why are you being like this?”

“I dunno. Maybe because Nurse Lane was the only person who was nice to me, and now her life is over because bad things always happen to Shadysiders.”

“Nothing just happens. There’s always a reason.”

“Not always a rational one. Deep down, you feel it, don’t you?” Ziggy leaned in slightly, voice low and biting. “Shadyside, there’s something here. It’s just holding us down. Cursing us.”

“Ziggy, that’s enough.”

“You’re too scared to admit it. When things go bad, you wanna explain it away.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not going to blame everything on some fairy tale. Life sucks sometimes. I get that. I mean, God knows it’s been hard since…”

“Since what?” Ziggy turned to her fully now. “See? You can’t even say it. Since my Mom left. Since Dad started drinking. Since Billy died and Neil left. And it’s not gonna magically get better.”

She grabbed the stain on Cindy’s polo shirt.

“And saving up all summer to buy a super cute polo shirt can’t hide that. Trying to explain why nice old Nurse Lane almost lost it today can’t either. We’re all cursed. For Mary, it was today. But someday, it’ll be you. And this whole fake bullshit life of yours — it’s gonna come crashing down.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” Cindy whispered, terrified by the look in Ziggy’s eyes.

“It’s not horrible if it’s true,” Ziggy said coldly.

“I don’t know who you are anymore, but… but you’re not my sister,” Cindy said, her voice cracking. She was holding back tears now.

“Then who am I?”

“A monster.”

Ziggy turned without another word and opened the door to her cabin.

Cindy took a hesitant step forward — and gasped.

The walls around Ziggy’s bed was covered with hate scribbled in paint. 'Ziggy is a witch bitch.' 'Ziggy sucks cocks in Hell. It was vicious, cruel. Every word covered in paint. The air in the room felt heavier now, like all the pain had soaked into the walls.

Ziggy glanced over her shoulder at Cindy.

“That’s what they say.”

She slammed the door shut.

Inside, Ziggy stood still for a long moment. She felt the tears prick her eyes. With a sharp inhale, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Then she turned back to her table, picked up the bucket of red paint, and kept working.

It was time for Sheila to pay.

——

While stirring the paint in the bucket, Ziggy hears a knock on the door. She groans and rolls her eyes.

“Go away, Cindy!” she shouts, not even turning toward the door.

“It’s me. It’s Nick,” comes the muffled but unmistakable voice from outside.

She stiffens.

“Go away, Nick!” she calls back, even more annoyed now.

But the door creaks open anyway. Nick steps inside, and his eyes immediately scan the walls. The slur-covered wood were clearly seen.

“Whoa. I like what you’ve done with the place,” he says, eyebrows raised.

“This wasn’t me,” Ziggy replies flatly, not stopping her mixing.

“I’m shocked. 'Ziggy is a witch bitch.' 'Ziggy sucks cocks in Hell.'” He turns to her, face more bewildered by the thought of a sunnyvaler doing this now. “Jeez. Sheila?” he asks.

“Colonel Mustard,” Ziggy deadpans, trying to hide the way his presence shakes her nerves.

Nick glances down at the thick red substance she’s stirring in the bucket.

“Oh. Looks like blood.”

“Yeah. I didn’t have a pig, so…” she says, letting the sentence hang there.

“Carrie. Cool,” Nick nods, catching the reference.

“You’ve read Carrie?” she asks, genuinely surprised and tiny bit shocked that Nick Goode would know what Carrie is.

“Yeah. Second favorite after Salem’s Lot,” he says casually, then adds, “Still, I dunno. Paint seems a little pedestrian.”

God, her heart is pounding now. Why does he have to look good while saying things that make her feel seen?

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you have a better idea?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Maybe,” he replies, grinning.

Ziggy tilts her head.

“Shouldn’t you be, like, turning me in or something?” she asks, testing him.

“Well, I should be supervising Color War…” he trails off, glancing back at the door he left ajar. His ears are flushed pink. She notices. It’s cute. “But noticed you were MIA and…”

“So you decided to stalk me,” she quips, her tone light but laced with interest. This reminded her of the time when the Party was stalking her around school, trying to find out whether she was Madmax or not. 

“Check in on you,” he corrects, shooting her a look. “Clearly you don’t need my assistance. All good. Go ahead. 'Carrie' on.”

He turns slightly, tossing her a small teasing smile.

Ziggy finds herself smiling too, against her will.

“What’s your idea?” she asks, thinking he can’t pull off anything coming from Goody goode sunnyvale.

Nick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, holding them up like a prize. His grin grows wider.

“Science and Nature.”

Chapter Text

This was going to be epic.

She still couldn’t believe she was doing this with Nick Goode. Of all people.

They were crammed into a stall in the outhouse, shoulders pressed close, both trying not to laugh too loud. Ziggy had to bite down on her lip to keep from giving them away. The whole thing reminded her of when Dustin came back from nerd camp and she, Lucas, and Mike had pranked him with El’s powers. That had been fun. But this? This was on another level. This was revenge. And she was going to fucking enjoy this. 

She kept snickering under her breath, already picturing Sheila’s face. Nick gave her that quiet smile like he was trying not to let her see it. Please. As if she wasn’t going to notice. Why did he have to look like that right now? Couldn’t he just stick to being the straight-laced counselor for five minutes?

Footsteps creaked outside. Both of them froze. Nick lifted a finger to his lips. Ziggy nodded and made an exaggerated motion of zipping her mouth shut. He almost broke then and there, and she had to smother another laugh.

Sheila’s voice cut through, sharp and annoying as always. She thought Will was waiting for her in the next stall. Figures. The door creaked open.

“Now?” Nick whispered.

“Now.” Her heart leapt with the word.

Together, they yanked the rope.

The bucket tipped.

Sheila’s scream filled the outhouse, high-pitched and desperate.

They bolted from the stall, laughing so hard they could barely run. Nick shoved a screwdriver into the latch and jammed it tight. Ziggy blinked for half a second. Of course he carried a screwdriver. Why wouldn’t he?

“Please, somebody help me! Help me! Somebody help me! Please!” Sheila’s voice cracked with panic, banging against the door.

They run together to the Science and Nature Cabin. Ziggy doubled over, her sides aching from laughing at Shiela's demise. 

“Did you hear her? She sounded like a frog,” Ziggy repeats Shiela's shriek, remembering the horror in her voice.

Nick grinned wide. “What’d I tell you?”

“Fuck paint,” Ziggy said, breathless and impressed.

“Fuck paint,” Nick repeated with a satisfied nod.

She slowed, catching her breath, the grin still stuck on her face as she looked at him. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to be funny, easy, not someone who’d lock himself in a bathroom stall to pull a prank with her. And yet, here he was.

“Who are you?” she asked, tilting her head. The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Nick’s grin softened. He held out his hand like it was the first time they’d met. “Nick Goode. Nice to meet you.”

Ziggy rolled her eyes, but took his hand anyway. It was warm, steady, and she might have held on a little longer than she needed to.

—

“Alright, next question,” Nick said, observing the gerbil in the glass as he threw a glance over at her.

Ziggy turned toward him, her smile still lingering, a soft buzz still in her veins from pranking Sheila. The Science and Nature cabin smelled very musky because of all the animals in the building. The windows glowed faintly from the moonlight outside, the whole place tucked in its own little bubble. Cages lined the walls, full of tiny rustling sounds, like the world outside couldn’t touch them here. On the radio nearby, “Sweet Jane” hummed low, barely above a whisper, like the soundtrack to a secret moment.

They've been playing 20 questions for a while now. Mostly, he's asked about her life outside of Shadyside and personal stuff about herself. Who her favorite author is, when did she learn how to skateboard, her favorite arcade game. While she asked about mostly who he was without the Sunnyvale bits. She already knew Nick Goode, the Sunnyvale King but now, all she wanted to know was the man behind the king. She just wanted to know Nick. 

“Uh... what about you and your sister? You guys ever get along?” Nick asked curiously, his gaze fixed on her.

Ziggy’s smile faltered. She had been expecting something light again, something harmless. Definitely not this. The question landed heavier than she wanted to admit.

“Thought these were supposed to be easy questions,” she said, trying to make it sound like no big deal.

“Says who? There are no rules to this game.”

Ziggy muttered under her breath, “God, I hate snakes,” shifting her gaze to the glass tank with the sleeping snake inside. Great. A perfect excuse to look anywhere but him.

“Why are you dodging my question?” Nick’s voice carried a little weight now.

“Why do you care?” she shot back, quick, sharp, hoping he’d back off.

“I’m curious.”

Her throat felt tight. “I’ve hated her since I was a baby. Next.” The words came out sharper than she meant, but she prayed he’d take the hint and move on.

“Come on,” Nick pressed, stepping closer.

Ziggy arched an eyebrow. Deflect, deflect, deflect. “Why are you so full of shit?”

Nick blinked, actually looking caught off guard. “What?”

“Nick Goode. Heir apparent. Daddy was the police chief. The King of Sunnyvale. You’re gonna be the same. Except it’s all make-believe.” She watched his face carefully, her pulse quickening. “The truth is, you like Stephen King and spiders and...” her voice softened, betraying her nerves, “...the weird girl from Shadyside.”

There was a small table between them, but it might as well have vanished. Somehow, they were closer than she had ever been to anyone. Her stomach twisted, not with dread, but with something terrifying in a different way.

She hadn’t seen this coming. Not from Nick Goode. Not from anyone. And definitely not this soon. It had only been a month since she had let Lucas go. She’d sworn she wasn’t going to let anyone else in. She wasn’t supposed to. And yet here she was, betraying that promise with the way her chest warmed at the look on Nick’s face.

“Alright, first of all, Stephen King is, like, super popular,” Nick said, lifting his hand like he was pleading his case. “And second... I can’t like the weird girl.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a counselor. She’s a camper.”

“Last year for me. First year for you.” Ziggy’s voice was quick, stubborn.

“Plus, how will I ever get to know her when she keeps dodging my questions?”

Nick moved past her, sliding onto the bench. He sat like he wasn’t planning to leave until she gave him more. Ziggy hesitated, her heart beating unevenly, then joined him.

She took a breath, letting the silence stretch before breaking it.

“There was a time when things were good between us. When my dad and my mom were happy. When my sister and I would TP Mr. Corkle’s tree and jump into the lake in our clothes and... and now it’s just gone. Everything’s shit.” The words came out jagged, but true. Her eyes fixed on the floor. “My mom divorced my dad, and we moved away. Then my stepbrother died. Then my stepdad left. That’s what happens when you live in Shadyside. Everything turns to shit eventually. But I wouldn’t expect a Sunnyvaler to understand.”

Her voice cracked slightly on that last line, though she tried to swallow it back. She hated giving it away.

“No, maybe you’re right.” Nick’s voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “But... being the heir apparent isn’t always easy either. Before he died, my dad loaded me up with all this ‘You’re my legacy, the future of the family depends on you’ crap. He dropped this huge burden in my lap and... I don’t know. What if I don’t want that? What if that’s not who I want to be? What if I want to be the kid who likes spiders and Stephen King and...”

“And the weird girl from Shadyside?” Ziggy’s voice softened, curiosity slipping in despite herself.

Nick nodded, and then reached out, his hand brushing over the bandage on her arm. The touch was careful, reverent, like he was afraid of breaking her. Her breath hitched in her chest.

“The weird girl from Shadyside,” he repeated, his eyes steady. “But... I guess there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why not?”

He gave her a small, sad smile. “Yeah. You were right. Can we... can we go back to the easy questions?”

Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to nod. “Okay.”

Ziggy stood, her movements slow, testing the air between them. He mirrored her, both of them pulled closer without even thinking.

“How about... would you ever kiss the weird girl?” Ziggy asked, her voice low, every word testing gravity. Her eyes locked on his, daring him to answer.

Holy shit. The thought barreled through her mind before she could stop it. If eight-year-old Ziggy could see her now, she’d probably be screaming. Her stupid crush on this boy had started the day he caught her during Color War and didn’t turn her in. Ever since, she had caught the little things: the way his eyes lingered at lunch when he laughed too loud at Kurt’s jokes, the times she’d dropped something and somehow he was always right there, picking it up like he’d been waiting. Every summer she had told herself she’d talk to him, maybe even be brave enough to say something real. Then her mom ripped her away to California, and that chance had vanished.

But here he was. Right here.

She leaned in slowly, her heart hammering in her chest. His lips parted, but he didn’t move away. Her hand rose to his cheek, fingertips brushing against his skin.
And then she kissed him.

Nick kissed her back immediately, no hesitation, his hands sliding to her waist, grounding her in the moment like she’d come unmoored without him.

It was everything. All of it.

A scream split the air outside, tearing through their bubble.

They broke apart, both of them frozen.

“He’s dead!”

——

Jeremy was dead.

Ziggy stared at the body of the young boy who had only wanted to play Color War. He had been so excited to help Shadyside win, as if a victory in some camp game could erase the decades of bad luck that hung over their town. But now Jeremy’s small frame was butchered, his glasses spattered with blood. It felt like seeing Billy’s dead body all over again. The sight made Ziggy’s stomach churn.

Nick stepped forward, instantly taking control of the chaos. His voice carried authority as he told everyone Color War was over and head straight to the Mess Hall. He led the group himself, repeating his instructions loudly for the stragglers.

Ziggy ran alongside the younger campers, her heart pounding. Every step she took brought the same thought: Who was the killer? God, she wished El were here to protect them.

“Five, seven, eight, ten, fifteen, eighteen…” Nick counted as he passed kids entering the building.

The lights went out. Screams erupted in the darkness. In the panic, the campers instinctively split—Shadysiders huddled together on one side, Sunnyvalers on the other. Ziggy crouched low in the corner, trying to block out the memory of Billy’s lifeless body in her mind.

“Stay calm! Everything’s alright!” Nick’s voice rose above the noise, trying to steady them.

“How many?” Gary called out from across the room.

“Twenty-three,” Nick answered.

“That’s thirty missing at least.”

“Where’s Cindy, Kurt, Joan?”

Ziggy’s head snapped up at the mention of her sister. Where was Cindy?

“I don’t know,” Nick replied. “I haven’t seen them. Or Tommy. Or anyone.”

The lights flickered back on. Nick and Gary rushed to the phone, hoping to call for help, but the line was dead. Nick’s jaw tightened. They needed to warn anyone still outside. Ziggy moved toward the door, her instincts screaming at her to find Cindy.

“We have to go. We have to warn people.” She stepped forward.

“Hey!” Nick’s hands caught her by the shoulders, stopping her. It was almost the same as earlier when he’d held her close, except now the air between them was heavier, sharper, laced with danger instead of teasing.

“My sister, she’s still out there!” Ziggy tried to pull away, her urgency outweighing everything else.

“The same sister you’ve hated since you were a baby?” His words echoed hers from earlier, but now they hit like a slap.

Her eyes burned as she glared at him. He knew better. He knew the truth. Despite all the bitterness, she still cared about Cindy more than anything. That their happiest memories were together, before the stupid curse ripped their family apart.

She tried to push past him again, but his grip tightened.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Nick said quickly. “I didn’t mean it. Me and Gary will go.”

“What?” she heard Gary say faintly in the background, but her focus stayed locked on Nick.

“Just please stay here.” His voice softened as his hands moved, cradling the sides of her face.

“I can’t sit here!”

“I’m not letting you get hurt!” The sudden burst in his voice made her flinch.

“What the hell?” someone from the Sunnyvale side muttered.

“OK?” Nick’s tone turned pleading again. “Please, let me do my job. I’m gonna find your sister. Just stay here. OK?”

She didn’t answer, not really. He didn’t wait. He turned and walked toward the entrance with Gary, leaving her standing in the middle of the Mess Hall, feeling the weight of eyes on her. She understood why they were staring. A Shadysider and a Sunnyvaler—it was a mix that drew attention. And yet, he had been worried about her. Not the others. Her.

Her chest tightened. She wasn’t only worried for Cindy now. She was worried for Nick too.

“Hey!” The shove against her shoulder jolted her from her thoughts. She slammed into the wall, looking up to find Sheila’s cronies glaring down at her.

“Where is she, witch? You kill her like you killed Jeremy?” one of them accused.

“What are you talking about?” Ziggy shot back, confusion flashing into irritation.

“Sheila!” the other one snapped.

“Where the fuck is Sheila?” the first girl pressed.

Ziggy’s stomach dropped. “Shit!”

The memory hit. Her and Nick locking Sheila in the outhouse earlier, both laughing. Except now the prank wasn’t funny anymore. Not with a killer roaming free, butchering people.

She broke away from them, sprinting toward the entrance.

“Nick! Nick, we forgot Sheila! Shit.” she shouted into the night, but there was no answer.

Her legs moved faster, the sound of her heartbeat drowning out everything else. She tore through the darkness toward the outhouse, silently praying the killer wasn’t already there.

Chapter Text

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Ziggy can’t believe she’s doing this right now. Her chest heaved, hands trembling as she shoved the door of the outhouse open.

“Sheila?” she called out, voice tight, frantic. “Sheila, are you still in here? Sheila?”

She tore open the stall where she’d pranked her earlier, already expecting to Shiela to call her names after a whole summer of torture from her.

“You bitch!” Shiela attacks her from behind and pins her to the stall

The force of the tackle slams Ziggy against the stall wall. Pain shot through her shoulder as Sheila pinned her down, nails clawing.

“I’m trying to help you! There’s a killer…” Ziggy tries to explain, but Sheila’s slap cracked across her face.

Ziggy’s survival instincts kicked in. "Screw this bitch" She thinks to herself as she balled her fist and swung. Sheila went down hard, collapsing onto the filthy floor.

“Oh shit,” Ziggy whispered, staring at her own work, at Sheila sprawled unconscious. 

“I heard shouting. What's going…?” Gary enters the outhouse to see a heavily breathing Ziggy and a knocked out Shiela “What's going on in here? What the fuck?”

 “Is everyone OK?” Ziggy asks, not bothering to answer Gary’s question

“No! Everyone's headed back to the Mess Hall.” Gary exclaims, looking all frantic and worried “Where's Nick?” 

She was about to ask the same thing concerned for her…well, she doesn’t know who he is to her right now but she hears someone calling out for help. 

“Do you hear that?” Gary whispers, scared. She follows the voices inside one of the stalls. She opens the stall and lifts up the toilet seat revealing a battered looking Cindy and Alice.

“Cindy?” She calls out outstanded by the sight of her sister who looked like she'd gone through hell

“Ziggy? Oh my God!” Cindy looks relieved to see her

“What are you doing down there?” She asks, concerned 

“ It's…It's kind of a long story. Are you OK?” Cindy asks worried for her

“Yeah, hold on a second.”

“Ziggy, are you OK? Are you OK?” She hears faintly in the background. Her heart feels warm. The thought of her sister caring about her makes her happy even though there’s a killer on the loose. She's always thought Cindy and her could never be sisters again. Maybe...there was a chance.

She grabs the bucket above the stall, trying to bring it down. Maybe she can use this to lift them up. 

“What is going on?” Gary asks looking at Ziggy weirdly 

“My sister's in the toilet.” She cynically says

“What?” he looks at her incredulously 

“Gary! Just help me!” She exclaims, frustrated. God, she just wants her sister out of the toilet and get the hell out of Nightwing. Is that too much to ask?

They grab the bucket and rope. The open up the toilet seat cover as wide as they can. They tie the rope to the bucket and throw it to them. 

“Get on! We're pulling you up!” She calls out

Alice climbs on and Ziggy notices that she has a bandage on her leg. Lookslike she broke her leg. Ouch “Pull it.” Cindy calls out to her once Alice is secured

“Now!” She looks back at Gary and pulls Alice up. They grunt with each pull they make.

“Come on, Keep pulling!” She commands him

They hear the door open. They turn to look at who entered. It’s Tommy. But something was clearly wrong. His flannel covered in blood and he had a blank look in his eyes. He was gripping a bloody axe. Ziggy felt her stomach churn. Could he be...?

“Tommy! Tommy, what are you doi…” Gary never got to finish his sentence since Tommy sliced his head away from his body. 

His blood splattered all over Ziggy making her scream in terror. She lets go of the rope as Gary’s headless body falls into the hole. She can hear Alice’s shrieks and Cindy’ concern screaming out her name as she looks back and sees Tommy holding an axe, swinging it towards her. She dodges it and quickly leaves the outhouse, hoping to get back to the mess hall and away from Tommy.

She keeps glancing over her shoulder as she runs through the trees, heart pounding, afraid Tommy’s already caught up with her. Her lungs burn as she runs, but then she collides into someone. It’s Nick. Thank God.

“Ziggy! What are you doing?” His voice is sharp, caught between concern and frustration that she didn’t listen to him.

“He’s here!” she blurts, adrenaline still coursing through her veins from barely dodging Tommy’s axe.

“Come on!” Nick grabs her hand, pulling her with him. Together they sprint to the Science and Nature cabin. Just earlier, they were sharing a moment, tucked away like the world wasn’t falling apart. Now, it’s nothing but blood, fear, and the sound of their ragged breathing. She can’t catch a break.

Once they enter the cabin, Nick locks the door behind them. They drop behind one of the tables, sliding down to the floor.

“Did we lose him?” she whispers, barely able to breathe.

“Yeah, I think so. Are you OK? You hurt?” His hands are already on her shirt, pressing against the bloodstains. Gary’s blood.

“It’s not my blood. It’s Gary’s.” Her voice is steadier than she feels. She looks at him properly now. His shirt is filled with so much blood too, and worry claws up her chest. “And yours?”

“Um… Sean, Jesse, Rod, Stacey.” His voice is hollow, his eyes haunted as the names fall from his lips.

“Shadysiders. It’s the curse.” She spits the words, bitter.

“No, it’s, uh, it’s just some psycho,” he reasons, clinging to anything rational.

“No, no, it’s not some psycho. It’s Tommy. My sister’s perfect, virgin, boring boyfriend Tommy. She did this.” Anger cracks through her voice. She can’t reconcile the fact that Tommy Slater, the boy who offered to take Ziggy to the library whenever he was free. The boy who loved her sister so wholeheartedly had done this.  

“Cindy?” he asks, incredulous.

“The witch!” she insists. She knows she sounds crazy but she's seen a lot of things that are crazier. 

“That’s not real, Ziggy.” He insists

“Exactly what a Sunnyvaler would say. I thought you were different.” She turns away, disappointment sour in her mouth. If he couldn't even handle believing the curse, what more if he learns the truth about Hawkins, the little town where nothing happens that turned out to be the capital of almost world ending shit. 

Then the bell rings, slicing through the silence. Fucking hell.

“They’re getting on the bus. We have to go!” He grabs her hand again, ready to drag her out.

“I can’t! My sister is still out there!” Her voice cracks with desperation. She can’t lose Cindy. Not like Billy. 

“Ziggy, I’ve let a lot of people die.” His hands frame her face now, holding her still.

“Nick, this isn’t your fault.” She says it softly, trying to convince him. 

“Not you! I’m not letting you die. Because, uh… yeah! I do like the weirdo from Shadyside.” He confesses

Her lips twitch into a grin despite everything. This was clearly the wrong time for him to tell her his feelings. But she wouldn't change a thing from this moment. Well, except for Tommy trying to kill them part.

“Maybe once we get out of this, we could, uh… we could start a book club or something. Maybe… I dunno, Stephen King’s new one is supposed to be good, I hear.” He rattles on as she grins

“I’m done with King. Judy Blume for me from now on.” She tosses the joke back, though his confession has her heart racing faster than her fear. 

“Yeah, Judy Blume sounds, uh… sounds perfect.” He looks almost relieved, like her not recoiling means more than he can say.

“You believe me, right? About the curse?” She holds her breath, waiting.

“Yeah, of course. I am different. Now, come on. We gotta get out of here.” He pulls her up, gripping her hand tight. “We’ll call the cops. Your sister’s gonna be alright. First, we gotta get on that bus.”

They slowly stand, but the pounding at the door freezes them.

Tommy.

Glass shatters as he breaks the window to open the door, his hulking frame forcing its way inside. They drop back behind the table, hiding in the shadows as his footsteps thud closer. They crawl across the floor, silent, hearts hammering in unison.

More glass splinters nearby. Ziggy dares a glance—and her stomach drops. A snake slithers across the floor, its body gliding beneath her knee. Panic spikes in her throat. She grabs Nick’s knee, warning him, while biting her lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from screaming. She can feel his hand pressing against hers, steadying, but it doesn’t stop her skin from crawling. One of her biggest fears is coiling beneath her, and there’s a killer only a feet away.

For a moment, she thinks she might make it. Then fingers knot into her hair and yank her back, ripping a scream from her throat. Pain sears across her scalp as she’s dragged over the table.

“Ziggy!” Nick’s voice cracks as he leaps to his feet.

She claws at the surface, thrashing, but Tommy’s grip is strong. The axe gleams as he raises it. Nick lunges, shoving her free just as the blade comes down.

She scrambles back, heart in her throat, as the axe buries into Nick’s leg. His cry of pain splits the air.

“Run.” He grunts out

She hesitates, torn, her eyes locked on his injury, her chest aching with the weight of it. She wishes she had El’s power, something to throw Tommy back, to stop this nightmare. But she’s powerless. Just a girl running again.

Nick’s eyes lock on hers.

“Run!” 

Chapter Text

“Kurt, Will, anybody!” Ziggy screamed as she runs away from the Science and Nature cabin all the way to the camp entrance, lungs burning. She prayed someone would wait for her, that she could still get out. 

But in the distance, the bus had just left.

“Fuck,” Ziggy cursed, breathless. It was like the whole world was against her tonight. All she wanted was to get the hell out, call the cops, and pray she wasn’t too late for Cindy, Alice and Nick. 

Her eyes darted back toward Camp Nightwing. Tommy’s towering figure was there, axe in hand, coming for her. He looked less like a boy now and more like a nightmare made flesh.

Ziggy bolted, legs pumping, until she threw herself into the Mess Hall. She slammed the doors shut and locked them, heart hammering. Scanning frantically, she spotted a radio, twisted the dial, and let music blast through the speakers. Anything to draw his attention.

In the kitchen, she yanked open a drawer and grabbed the first knife she could find, then darted into the pantry, hiding deep in one of the storage bins, knife clutched tight.

The front doors splintered. His boots echoed closer.

He rattled the pantry door, then began hacking at it with his axe. Ziggy held her breath, every muscle screaming. The door gave way. Tommy stepped in, monstrous in the dim light.

When his back was turned, she crept up, every nerve on fire. All she kept thinking in her mind was “If El and Will could survive the Upside Down, then I can fucking survive Nightwing.” The music had stopped and she stabbed him in the chest but he didn’t stop. He swung, hitting her across the room. She crashed into a shelf, hard. His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing, lifting her off her feet.

Ziggy clawed for anything, her fingers brushed a burlap sack. Desperate, she shoved it over his head and yanked hard, trying to choke him, trying to end him. For a second, she thought it was working until he ripped her off him like she was nothing.

With the sack on his head, he looked like her nightmares. Kind of like the Mind Flayer that kept haunting her every night. Axe raised, he shoved her down onto the slick kitchen tiles. She shut her eyes, bracing for the swing, thinking “I’m coming Billy” 

But it never came. Instead, she heard a voice she never thought she would hear ever again. 

“Fuck… you!” Cindy’s voice, raw with fury. She was behind him, stabbing again and again, her hands shaking but determined. She didn’t stop until Tommy crumpled to the ground, his blood pooling dark across the tiles.

Ziggy gaped. “You swore!”

Her sister stood over Tommy’s body, hair wild, dirt and blood streaking her face and shirt. Her perfect white polo more ruined than ever.

“It’s becoming a habit,” Cindy said breathlessly.

Ziggy barked out a laugh, half-hysterical, then Cindy dropped the knife and drops to her knees, pulling her into a hug. Ziggy melted into it, arms tightening. Despite everything, her sister still felt warm, solid, real.

“You smell like shit,” Ziggy muttered into her shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s because I’m covered in it.”

“Oh God.” Ziggy pulled back, wrinkling her nose.

Cindy gave her a tired smile. “Think it’ll wash out?”

“You might need a new polo.”

For a beat, they just looked at each other. Then Cindy’s expression cracked. “I’m so sorry, Ziggy. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Not just tonight—every day before this.”

Ziggy shook her head. “No, you were. You just—”

“No.” Cindy cut her off, voice trembling. “I wasn’t. I thought if I kept my head down, followed the rules, maybe I’d get out of Shadyside. But I didn’t see you. I didn’t see how much you needed me. I should’ve listened. I should’ve written you letters. Instead, I got jealous when you found a new family.” Her voice cracked. “You were right. Everything is cursed. I see that now.”

Tears burned Ziggy’s eyes. “I could’ve been nicer. I could’ve tried harder, too. Sent you letters. I could’ve been less of a… monster.”

“Yeah,” Cindy huffed out a laugh, brushing blood from her cheek. “Well. You were my monster. And I’m done letting Shadyside, Sunnyvale, Mom, Dad—any of it—pull us apart. You hear me?” She cupped Ziggy’s face, forcing her to meet her eyes.

Ziggy swallowed hard, lips trembling. “…Loud and clear, ma’am.”

They almost laughed. Almost.

Then a thump echoed in the kitchen. Both froze, bracing. Cindy grabbed the knife again, creeping toward the vent she’d crawled from earlier.

“Hey, snitch!” Alice’s voice piped up, and her head poked through.

Ziggy nearly collapsed in relief.

“What took you so long?” Cindy asked, helping her out.

“You did it,” Alice said, eyes wide.

“We did it,” Cindy corrected, pulling her into a blood-stained hug.

Another set of footsteps echoed through the Mess Hall.

They all spun around.

Nick staggered inside, his right leg wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. His skin was pale, sheen of sweat on his forehead. Ziggy’s stomach dropped.

“Ziggy,” he panted.

“Nick!” she gasped, rushing to him.

He caught her in his arms before she could even think, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other gripping her waist. She held onto him tightly, feeling him sag against her as he buried his face into her neck. His body trembled, his breath uneven.

“Shit. You look like a ghost,” she whispered, panic rising.

“I told you… to get on the bus,” he groaned, clutching her tighter.

“I was too late. The bus left,” she explained quickly. “And Cindy saved me. He’s gone now.” She glanced toward Tommy’s body sprawled across the floor.

Her chest tightened. She didn’t know what to feel at this moment. Relief? Grief? Overall, she felt horror. Tommy had just tried to murder her, but he’d also loved Cindy once. Now he was gone because her sister had to end him. Ziggy could see Cindy holding it all in, pretending to be okay, pretending it didn’t tear her apart.

Nick’s hand skimmed down her arm, searching. “Are you hurt? Did he get you?”

“No… I’m fine,” she said softly, then pointed to his bleeding leg. “Your leg—”

“It’s fine, Ziggy. As long as you’re okay.” He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closing.

For a moment, Ziggy thought he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes, ready to meet him halfway.

“What in the actual fuck?” Alice’s voice rang out behind them.

Ziggy snapped her eyes open. She and Nick both turned to see Cindy and Alice staring. Alice’s eyebrows shot up, her expression halfway between disgust and amusement. Cindy’s face was harder, questioning.

Oh shit. This was not how Ziggy wanted anyone—let alone her sister—to find out about Nick. A Sunnyvale counselor and a Shadyside camper? She could already hear the gossip.

“W-what is this? Since when did this happen?” Cindy demanded.

“Not the time, Cindy,” Ziggy shot back quickly.

Before Cindy could push, Nick’s eyes rolled back. His body collapsed in Ziggy’s arms.

“Nick!” Ziggy cried, shaking him.

No response.

Cindy was already moving, helping her drag him onto one of the Mess Hall tables. Alice limped to a bench, her injured ankle forcing her down. Cindy rummaged through drawers and cabinets, desperate for anything useful.

Ziggy held Nick’s hand tight, her chest aching. She hated how cliché this looked like, but it was true—Nick was starting to become important to her. And she didn’t want to lose him. Not after everything. Not now.

His eyelids fluttered. He groggily came to.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Ziggy whispered quickly, leaning over him. “We’ll get through this. Then we’ll read all the Judy Blume we want, okay?”

His head lolled slightly as he tried to focus on her, eyes glassy and unfixed. His voice was rough, barely above a whisper, like he was talking in his sleep.

“I… I wanna be different, Ziggy. Don’t… don’t wanna be my father…”

Her throat tightened, panic spiking. “Hey, hey—look at me. You’re nothing like him. You hear me? You’re Nick. That’s all you are to me.”

His eyes fluttered, unfocused, like he was seeing something she couldn’t. “Ziggy… m’sorry. Should’ve… known better.”

She brushed the damp hair from his forehead, trying to ground him, keep him tethered. “This isn’t your fault, Nick. None of this is on you. Stay with me, okay?”

His grip on her hand slackened for a beat, then tightened again, weak but desperate, as though her voice was the only thing keeping him from slipping away.

“Aw, so little Berman…” Alice’s voice cut in with a smirk. “You like him or something?”

Ziggy’s face burned. Not just like. Definitely not just like. But seriously? Right now?

Cindy returned with bandages, disinfectant, and a handful of other supplies. “I got what I could. Phones are down, so no cops. We’ll just have to make do.”

She poured alcohol onto his wound. Nick screamed, grip tightening painfully around Ziggy’s hand. Ziggy winced, wishing he’d just pass out again. When his body finally slackened, his hand slipped from hers.

“He’s okay,” Cindy reassured, checking his pulse. “He just blacked out.”

Ziggy let out a shaky breath. “Good. Thanks.”

“I’ll let you two talk,” Alice muttered, hauling herself away and leaving the sisters alone.

Silence lingered, heavy but not hostile. Ziggy finally said, “You can ask. I know you’re dying to.”

Cindy hesitated before speaking carefully. “I thought you moved on from him. I mean… you told me you broke up with someone before coming here.”

Lucas. His name slammed into Ziggy like a rock. She could still see the look on his face when she ended it—hurt, confused, betrayed. She couldn’t say the words he deserved to hear. She hadn’t known how.

“I did move on. Or at least I thought I did,” Ziggy admitted, her voice low. “But seeing Nick again… it felt right. Like I’d forgotten something important.”

Cindy studied her. “Was Lucas good to you?”

The question startled her. “Yeah,” Ziggy whispered. “He was. Probably the best guy I’ve ever known.”

“So what happened?”

Ziggy stared down at her hands. “I got scared. I was hurting, and I couldn’t tell him. He deserved more than me, and I didn’t know how to handle that. So I pushed him away.”

Cindy’s voice softened. “Then don’t do that again. If Nick makes you feel something, hold onto it. Don’t run from it.”

Ziggy let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t even know what I’m doing. He’s a Goode. Sunnyvale would kill me for corrupting their golden boy, and Shadysiders hate his family.”

Cindy didn’t flinch. “Forget Sunnyvale and Shadyside for a second. What about you? How do you feel?”

Ziggy opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t have a clean answer. Just that being near Nick made the chaos fade, even for a moment.

“Don’t overthink it so much,” Cindy said gently. “Nick’s not perfect. None of us are. What matters is how he shows up when it counts. If he’s there for you when things get messy… that’s how you’ll know he’s worth it.”

Ziggy let out a shaky breath, half-laughing. “God, when did you start giving love advice?”

“Since I just stabbed my boyfriend to death,” Cindy deadpanned.

Ziggy huffed a laugh she hadn’t expected. Her sister’s words didn’t sound like a lecture tonight. They sounded like comfort. Like something she could actually believe.

“And for what it’s worth,” Cindy added, “Nick’s not like his brother. Or his dad. He’s… good different.”

A small, real smile tugged at Ziggy’s lips. “Yeah. I think so too.”

“Jesus, you two are taking forever!” Alice’s voice rang out again. “We’ve got more important shit to deal with!”

“What now, Alice?” Cindy rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag.

“Careful, okay? This thing’s like a million years old,” Alice snapped.

“I bought that a month ago,” Cindy muttered, offended.

“No, not your stupid bag, genius.” Alice shook her head, eyes wide. “The stone. ‘Blood will fall.’ Satan’s stone. It was right there, buried under moss. And I found it. I fucking found it.”

“Found what?” Ziggy asked warily.

Alice smirked. “Three guesses.”

——

This was now in Ziggy’s top three holy shit moments.

First: The Mindflayer

Second: El having actual superpowers

And now? Sarah Fier’s severed hand.

“Nurse Lane…” Cindy’s voice was hushed, reverent even. “She spent her entire life looking for this. A way to stop the curse that took her daughter.”

Alice’s eyes were wide, her voice trembling but steady as she recited, “Without her hand, her grip on the land holds firm. The curse will last until body and hand unite.”

Her words sank into Ziggy. “Which means… if the legend’s true, her body’s still buried…”

“By the Hanging Tree,” Ziggy whispered, finishing it for her.

The weight of what Alice had found pressed down on all of them. It wasn’t just bones. Fuck. It was a chance. A chance that they’ll live better lives. A chance to end this curse once and for all. 

“We can end this,” Cindy said, almost breathless. “No more murders, no more curse, no more—” She glanced toward Tommy’s cold body, grief flickering across her face. “No more pain. We can save Shadyside. Tonight.”

Ziggy pulled the hand bone closer to her. She hadn’t noticed until now, but blood from her nose had dripped across the hand.

The reaction was instant. Her ears filled with piercing screams. Sarah Fier’s screams. She felt all the anger. The hate. Centuries of fury roaring through her skull.

Ziggy gasped, her whole body jolting. Cindy’s hand clamped over hers, grounding her.

“My nose—” Ziggy’s voice shook. “I bled on the hand and… I think I just saw her.”

“Who?” Cindy asked, eyes wide.

“Sarah Fier,” Ziggy whispered. “She was… so angry.”

Alice cursed under her breath. “We have to bury this thing. Right fucking now.”

Cindy moved quick, heading for the storage. She came back with a shovel in hand, tossing a hand shovel to Ziggy.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Ziggy hesitated, eyes darting to Nick’s pale, unconscious body. “Wait—what about Nick?”

“He’ll be fine,” Cindy said firmly

Alice huffed. “What, I’m supposed to dig with my hands?”

“No. You’re staying here,” Cindy shot back, already moving toward the door.

Alice’s jaw tightened. “Come on, I can hop just fine.” She tries to convince them but Cindy gives her the look. “I watched my dad go to jail when I was six. I watched my mom steal just so I could eat. First time I cut myself, I was twelve—after…Well, you know when.” she trailed off, shaking her head. “And now tonight, I watched your perfect boyfriend turn into a monster and kill the only person I’ve ever loved.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice breaking. “I’ve waited my whole fucking life for this. And now I’ve found it. Let me see this through. For Arnie. For Tommy. For Shadyside.”

Cindy’s expression softened. She nodded, lifting her shovel as she turns to Ziggy. “For Shadyside.”

Ziggy’s grip tightened on hers. “For Shadyside.”

Ziggy was ready. She couldn’t wait to end this curse and maybe, she’d live out her life as Ziggy Berman with Cindy, Alice and Nick. She'd probably visit Hawkins once in a while, check up on everyone and visit Billy's grave the very least.

And then, behind Alice stood Ziggy’s nightmare. 

“Alice!” Cindy screamed, eyes wide as Alice drops to the ground. 

Chapter Text

“Fucking die! Why won't you fucking die!” Cindy grunted, her arms shaking as she brought the shovel down one last time, finally severing Tommy’s head. Ziggy stood frozen in horror as his head, still trapped inside the burlap sack, rolled across the ground like some grotesque ball.

“No! Alice? Alice?” Cindy dropped the shovel and cradled Alice’s limp body against her chest. “Alice, just… just stay with me. Alice. No. Alice! Alice!”

Ziggy’s stomach twisted at the sight of her sister sobbing into Alice’s blood-soaked shirt. It hit her in that moment, like a cruel revelation. Cindy was in love. Not with Tommy, not really, not in the way she held Alice now as if letting go would mean her own heart would stop. Ziggy understood. Cindy had loved Tommy, sure, but not like this. Not with the desperation of someone clinging to the other half of their soul.

Ziggy’s own chest ached for them both. A love ripped apart, not by choice, but by this goddamn curse that refused to let anyone in Shadyside have happiness.

“You always hurt the one you love.”

The words drifted through the air, a soft melody rising from somewhere in the distance. Singing.

“What is that?” Ziggy whispered, her voice trembling as she looked to Cindy.

Together, they turned toward the hole where Cindy and Alice had emerged moments before. From the shadows, Ruby Lane appeared, Nurse Lane’s tragic daughter, her eyes glazed with the same lifelessness as Tommy’s. Panic surged. They bolted back toward the entrance, but when Ziggy bent to grab the shovel again, something icy gripped her wrist. She screamed as Tommy’s headless body, impossibly alive, tried to drag her down. 

“Ziggy!” Cindy shrieked, yanking her free from the dead boy’s relentless grasp. 

The girls stumbled into the clearing, the hanging tree looming above them. They dropped to their knees, clawing at the dirt with their hands. Ziggy looks back and calls out Cindy's name in horror. They both look up and see Billy Barker, the child killer with his baseball bat still slick with phantom blood on one side, Ruby Lane who killed her friends during a party, the Milkman who killed several housewives and Tommy.

“Just keep digging!” Cindy shouted, forcing her voice to stay steady even as her hands trembled.

Ziggy’s fingers scraped against something solid. “I hit something.” She pulled back dirt until the carved words appeared. “‘The witch forever lives.’ Fuck.”

Her pulse spiked as she looked to her sister. “Cindy, what does it mean? Cindy?”

“I don’t know.” Cindy’s eyes were wide, terrified.

“Where is she? Where’s the body?” Ziggy’s panic rose, her throat closing.

“I don’t know.” Cindy’s voice cracked, raw terror spilling into her face as she met Ziggy’s eyes.

“This way. Come on!” Cindy tugged her arm, trying to drag her along, but it was too late. All the killers were slowly starting to surround them. 

“What do you want, Sarah Fier?” Cindy screamed, desperation breaking in her voice. She raised the bones, hoping it could save Ziggy. “You want this? You can have it! Just let my sister live! Just let my sister live!”

She turns to Ziggy, her eyes frantic yet determined. 

“You bled on the bone.” Cindy’s voice shook as the truth sank in. “They’re after you. Get ready to run.”

“No, Cindy, no! No, Cindy!” Ziggy’s voice cracked. She knew what her sister was about to do.

“Let’s go!” Cindy yells out, as she pushes her again, hoping to distract the killers. She slammed Tommy with shovel but it had no effect on him. Ziggy screamed as Tommy swung his axe, the blunt side slamming into Cindy’s head. She crumpled, and the blade came down again, this time cleaving into her chest. Ziggy lurched forward but was stopped cold as the Milkman stepped out of the shadows and drove his switchblade deep into her stomach. White-hot agony tore through her as she coughed blood onto the dirt. Ziggy looks towards her sister, wanting her face to be the last thing sees as she tried to reach for her. 

“Nothing will pull us apart,” Cindy gasped, blood seeping from her lips.

“Never again,” Ziggy whispered, her vision blurring, her body giving out beside her sister’s.

They say in the seven minutes after your heart stops beating, you see your happiest memories play like film reels, flashing bright against the dark. Whoever said that was full of shit. Ziggy only saw blood, pain, and the faces of people she loved being ripped away from her. How the fuck are you supposed to remember happiness when someone is carving you open with a switchblade? The memories flood her as the Milkman’s blade pierces her stomach. Beside her, Cindy is reaching out, swearing with her last breath that they’ll never be apart again. Tommy’s axe crashes down into Cindy’s chest. Pain blinds Ziggy, but through the blood and screaming, her life begins to unravel in fragments.

“Look, Cindy! Chrissy’s reaching out to you!” their mom squealed, her voice full of delight.

Young Christine wobbled forward on unsteady legs, arms stretched out, determined to reach her sister. She had only just learned to walk, but she kept going, face lit up with triumph. Cindy, barely two years older but already carrying the weight of being the eldest, caught her before she could fall. She hugged her tight, laughing with relief.

“Chrissy! You did it!” Cindy whispered, holding her baby sister like she was the most important thing in the world.

Christine giggled, babbling happily, safe in her sister’s arms.

Of all the places to hide, Ziggy had picked the trees behind the Arts and Crafts room. No one else was there. No one ever wanted to be near her, the camp freak. It didn't help that her parents were fighting again. Meanwhile, Cindy had Alice and sometimes, they would join her in their pranks but she always felt alone. 

The bushes rustled. Her heart jumped. Then she saw him.

Nick Goode. Sunnyvale’s golden boy. Messy brown hair that looked careless but perfect, dark eyes that seemed to see more than he let on. His quiet presence was the opposite of his brother Will’s loud charm.

The Sunnyvalers’ voices called out behind him. “Hey, Nick, do you see anyone?”

Nick turned to Ziggy. She froze, caught red-handed. He raised one finger to his lips, silently telling her to stay quiet.

“No,” he called back. “There’s no one here.”

And just like that, he walked away.

Her cheeks burned. Did he just… save her? For a moment, she wondered if maybe she was worth saving.

“Grrr!” Max growled, leaping from the shadows in a Michael Myers mask.

The boys screamed, stumbling back in terror. She yanked off the mask and laughed so hard her ribs hurt.

“Holy shit! You should’ve seen the look on your faces.” She pointed at Lucas. “And you? Who screams like that? You sound like a little girl!”

The boys groaned, embarrassed, but she only grinned. “Hey, you guys coming or not? Oh, and we should hit up Loch Nora. That’s where the rich people live, right?”

She walked ahead, still chuckling. Behind her, she heard Dustin and Lucas laugh and shout “Yeah!” while Mike and Will trailed quietly. For the first time in a long time, she felt it—like she wasn’t the outcast anymore. Like she had people.

“Max… hey.” Lucas’s voice cracked nervously as they stood in the gym, lights dim, music echoing. “Um… it’s nice, right? You want to… you want to, like… you know? Just you and me?”

She smirked. “Are you trying to ask me to dance, stalker?”

“What? No! Of course not. Unless you want to.” His panic only made her giggle.

“So smooth,” she teased, but her heart softened. “Come on.”

She took his hand. On the dance floor, her arms slid around his neck, his hands rested awkwardly on her waist. They swayed slowly, a little awkward at first.

Her mind flashed through everything—the boys hiding the Upside Down from her, Dart, Demodogs, standing up to Billy. It had been a whole hell of a ride. 

She kissed him. Just a small, hesitant peck. But it lit something inside her. Lucas looked at her like she’d given him everything. And maybe, just maybe, she could believe Hawkins could be home.

“So what should we do first?” Max asked, grinning as El’s wide eyes took in Starcourt Mall.

“You’ve never been shopping before, have you?”

El shook her head.

“Well, then we’re gonna have to try everything.” She grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the Gap. “Come on!”

Walking with El felt different. El wasn’t like Cindy or Alice. With them, she had been Ziggy, the weirdo. But here, she was Max. She was just a girl with a friend.

El paused at a blue shirt in the mannequin.

“Do you like that?” Max asked.

“How do I know what I like?” El’s voice was quiet, vulnerable.

“You just try things on. Until you find something that feels like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah. Not Hopper. Not Mike. You.”

El smiled, shy but radiant, and Max smiled back. For once, she wasn’t alone.

“How about… would you ever kiss the weird girl?” Ziggy whispered, her voice trembling but bold, eyes locked on Nick’s.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t move. Her hand rose to his face. She leaned in and kissed him.

And when he kissed her back, it was nothing like Lucas at the Snowball. This felt different. Maybe it was the anticipation, the waiting, the girl who had a childhood crush on him was feeling all of it. It all added up. The months of loneliness and bitterness breaking apart in a single moment.

She sounded cliche. God, she hated cliches. But his hands on her waist, it felt so right.

For the first time, she believed in beginnings again.

“Yeah. Well… you were my monster. And at the end of the day, Dad, Mom, Shadyside, Sunnyvale… I won’t let anything pull us apart again. You hear me?” Cindy’s voice broke, but her words were steady, certain.

Ziggy’s heart swelled with something so fierce it hurt. After everything—Billy, the curse, Tommy, blood, pain—none of it mattered. Not anymore. Her sister understood her. Finally. Maybe she'd live in Shadyside from now on. She'd wrote to the group every now and then. Maybe call once in a while. But now, she was focused in the moment. She finally had Cindy back. Never again would she let go. 

She stared at Cindy, lying still beside her, and something in Ziggy unclenched. It was quiet now except for her own ragged breathing and the wet slap of blood on dirt. It was fine. She felt the small ache for all the goodbyes she had not said but it was fine. She let her eyes slide closed as she lets the darkness take her in.

“Ziggy! No! Hey, hey!” a voice called, faint and panicked, like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel.

Wait. She should be gone, she thought. She should already be somewhere else.

“Don't die on me, OK?” the voice pleaded again.

Everything exploded back into her: a sharp cough, blood sputtering into her mouth. She gasped, lungs burning. Light and sound slammed into her at once. She opened her eyes and found Nick above her, chest heaving, face streaked with sweat and her blood. His hands were raw and shaking, stained dark where they had tried to force her back.

He looked like he had not slept in days. He looked like he had been praying.

When he saw her blink, his shoulders sagged and he wrapped his arms around her before she could even breathe. He held her like he might lose her if he let go, clutching at her as if that could anchor them both to the world. She tasted iron and mud and the faint, awful sweetness of fear.

For a second there was nothing but the two of them, heartbeat against heartbeat, and the absurd, terrible relief that she was still here.

Chapter Text

“Hey, what's your name? Look at me. What's your name?” The paramedic asks her gently. Guess Kurt decided to call the police when they got far enough. 

“Ziggy.” She grunts, still in pain from the stab wounds in her stomach

“It's Christine.” Nick answers “Her real name, it's Christine Maxine Berman-Mayfield.”

“Where's my… Where's my sister? Cindy…my sister…” She asks but looks to her left, a stretcher covered with a white sheet. Oh Cindy… Her heart broke seeing the sister who finally understood her side was gone. It was like seeing Billy all over again. 

“It was her. Sarah Fier, the witch. The curse, it's…it's real.” She turns to Nick and slowly grunts it out, hoping he’ll believe her. He's resting his hand near her forehead stroking it gently.

“What the hell happened here?” the officer asks Nick, who’s holding Ziggy’s hand as the rain started to pour out

“That…that doesn’t matter right now…We need to go to the hospital right now…” Nick requests, gripping her stretcher despite being in pain

“Okay” the officer nods at him “you heard him! Get her to the hospital!” he commands the paramedics

“Nick…” she calls out as her eyes feels heavy 

“I’m here Ziggy…I’ll always be here.” Nick sits beside her holding her hand as if he might lose her 

—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound pulls her back into the world, slow and painful. Her eyelids feel heavy, her vision blurry as light floods in. The ceiling above her is white and sterile, too bright for how hollow she feels inside. Her eyes drift to the small table beside her where there are flowers and a pile of cards. The colors look cheerful, but to her, they feel fake. Like the world is pretending that things are fine when nothing is.

“Hey, you’re up.”

She turns her head and sees Nick sitting beside her bed. His voice is careful, almost unsure. There is something in his eyes that makes her heart twist, a mix of relief and worry that she cannot quite read.

“Yeah… how’s your leg?” she asks softly. The last thing she remembers is the blood, the screaming, the pain. And him.

“It’s okay,” he says, forcing a small smile. “Doctors said I’ll have a slight limp, but I’ll be fine. Let me call the doctor.”

He stands up, and she notices the limp. It makes her stomach sink. He got hurt because of her. Because he tried to save her. She watches him step out of the room, and the second the door closes, the silence grows too heavy to bear.

When the doctor enters, his words blur together like background noise. She only catches fragments. She had been in a coma for three days. Her dad was here at first but had to leave to plan Cindy’s funeral. Her mom flew back to Shadyside and has been staying in their old house, visiting whenever she can. There will be scars, deep ones, and she needs to rest.

Ziggy nods, but it barely registers. It feels like the words are floating somewhere far away from her, like she’s underwater and someone is calling from the surface. Only one word sticks with her. Funeral.

When the doctor leaves, Nick comes back inside. The air in the room feels heavier now.

“Nick… you believe me, right?” she asks quietly. Her voice shakes, but she doesn’t care.

“Of course I do,” he says. “But we can’t say that to them.”

She frowns. “Why not? The curse is real. My sister is dead. Shadysiders are dead. Sarah Fier could kill me any second and I still haven’t told the truth.” Her voice rises, sharp and trembling.

“You don’t need to worry about Sarah Fier, Ziggy. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says firmly, trying to sound certain, but she hears the cracks in it.

“How can you say that? How can you prove it?” she demands, anger burning through her grief.

“I will do everything for you, Ziggy. But right now, you just need to rest. Cindy’s funeral is happening soon.”

Her throat tightens, her chest aches. The mention of her sister’s name feels like a knife twisting inside her.

“What will we tell the police?” she asks after a long silence.

“The truth. It was Tommy who killed those people.”

She blinks. “What?”

He doesn’t meet her eyes.

“But—” she starts, but he cuts her off gently.

“I know. The curse. But Ziggy, not everybody will understand that right now. For now, we have to tell the truth, even if it’s not the full truth. Whether he was possessed or not, Tommy killed those people.”

She feels sick. Her hands tighten around the blanket as she stares at him in disbelief. “How dare you? Tommy was sweet and kind. He loved my sister. Why can’t we tell the actual truth?”

“Because right now, people are scared,” Nick says quietly. “They’re pointing fingers, trying to make sense of everything. Unless we can prove the curse, they won’t believe us.”

Ziggy stares at him, her heart pounding. She can feel the rage rising inside her. All she can see is Cindy’s face, the blood, the screams, the horror of it all. And now Nick, telling her to lie.

“Get out,” she says softly.

“Ziggy…”

“Get out, Nick! I thought you were different. I thought you wanted to be different. Fuck you.” Her voice breaks, and it only makes her angrier.

“Ziggy, please…”

“No. Get out.”

He lets go of her hand. She hadn’t even realized he was holding it. His touch lingers like a ghost as he walks to the door.

“I’ll see you later, Ziggy,” he says, his voice low, before leaving.

The sound of the door closing feels final.

She lies there, staring at the empty chair he left behind. For a moment, she feels nothing. Then the tears start, slow at first, then harder until she’s shaking. She cries for Cindy, for Alice, for Tommy, for every Shadysider whose life was destroyed by this curse.

But more than anything, she cries for herself. For the girl who once believed in someone like Nick Goode. For the girl who thought she could be saved.

She knows, deep down, that part of what he said was true. People don’t want the truth. Not the kind that burns and scars. She’s seen it before. Hawkins was full of those kinds of truths too. The things no one ever talked about. The Demogorgon. The Mind Flayer. Billy.

Some things are too heavy to say out loud. So she lies there, staring at the white ceiling, the flowers, and the empty space beside her bed. And she thinks about all the people she’s lost. She thinks about how it’s always her who ends up surviving. It doesn’t feel like survival. It feels like punishment.

——

“We gather here today to remember the life we lost, Cindy Berman,” the priest says, his voice heavy with sorrow, the words falling into the still air like stones sinking into deep water.

Ziggy sits in the front row, her mom on one side and her dad on the other. Her mom’s shoulders shake with quiet sobs, her tissue crumpled and damp in her hands as she mourns the little girl she embraced as her own, even though she had never carried her. Her dad sits stiff and unmoving, his expression unreadable, but Ziggy can smell the alcohol on his breath. It is the only way he knows how to endure days like this.

One by one, people step forward to speak. They share memories of Cindy, calling her a responsible sister, a perfectionist, someone who believed she could rise above Shadyside’s shadow. The church is full. Shadysiders fill most of the pews, their faces worn and tired, while Sunnyvalers sit among them in pressed suits and polished shoes. The Goodes are there too, an undeniable presence in the crowd.

When her name is called, Ziggy’s legs feel heavy as she walks to the stand. The walk to the front feels longer than it should.

“I remember when Cindy and I were younger, she would always make sure that I was okay. I was this weirdo who liked reading books unlike some of the kids around me.” she begins, her voice trembling but carrying across the room. “Cindy didn’t care that I was a weirdo. She cared for me and loved me. She always followed the rules, hoping to get out of this hellhole… Then I left her. And when I came back, I thought that If I kept away, she’d be okay…That she’d be away from a monster… a monster who hurts people.” She stops for a breath, but her throat feels tight, her chest aching. “She… she died trying to save me. And I—”

The words break apart. She cannot force the rest out. The weight inside her chest spills over, and the edges of her vision blur. 

Nick moves before she even realizes it. He rises from his seat and reaches her in a few strides. His hand finds her arm and she lets him guide her away. Her head drops, and her hair falls forward, hiding her face from the eyes watching.

When they reach her seat, she collapses into it, pressing the heel of her hand against her cheeks as if she could rub the tears away, erase the moment, erase the hurt. Nick stays beside her, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from him, a silent reminder that she is not completely alone.

The rest of the service is a blur. The words from Cindy’s friends and some of their neighbors drift past her. The prayers echo faintly in the air. It feels like time skips ahead, because suddenly she is home again.

The house feels crowded despite its walls being the same as always. Strangers drift from room to room, offering their condolences in hushed tones. They shake her hand or squeeze her shoulder before moving on, but she barely reacts. She cannot. Her gaze is locked on the mantel, on the framed photo of Cindy smiling brightly. That smile feels like another lifetime.

“Ziggy.”

Her name cuts through her fog. She blinks, turns her head. Nick stands there, his expression a mix of concern and something else she cannot quite name.

“Nick.” Her voice is flat, dulled by exhaustion and grief.

“Wanna get out of here?” His voice is softer than she has heard it all day, almost like he is afraid she might say no.

“To where?” she asks, her tone cautious.

“I… need to show you something,” he says, the words slow and distant, his eyes not giving away what he means.

She hesitates. Then she reaches for his hand, letting her fingers curl around his. His grip tightens just enough to anchor her. Without another word, they step outside.

Nick opens the passenger door for her. She slips inside, the seat cool beneath her. He closes it gently before circling around to the driver’s side.

The car starts, the low hum of the engine filling the silence. Gravel crunches under the tires as they pull away from the house. The road ahead stretches out, empty and quiet, and neither of them speaks.

The only sound is the car, steady and constant, carrying them away from everything.

——

They pull up to an abandoned-looking house. The paint is peeling, windows boarded up, and the place looks forgotten by time. Ziggy’s stomach tightens. Every instinct screams at her to turn back.

“Where are we? Why did you bring me here?” she asks cautiously, voice barely above a whisper.

Nick’s jaw clenches, eyes dark. “I’m here to show you the truth.”

The words hang heavy between them. What truth? What could possibly make this place important enough for him to drag her here?

“What truth?”

He opens the door, stepping out and waiting for her. Ziggy swallows hard, heart pounding. The air feels thick, charged with something she can’t place.

“This is Solomon Goode’s ancestral home. He was one of the first Goodes ever recorded,” Nick begins, voice tight like he’s forcing himself to say the words. “He left a legacy that’s been passed from firstborn son to the next.”

“Did you just bring me here for a history lesson? Really?” Ziggy rolls her eyes

He leads her inside. The floorboards creak beneath their feet. The stale air smells of dust and decay. Her pulse quickens. Somewhere deep in her chest, a primal fear claws its way up.

They descend a narrow passageway into darkness. She can barely see, but the walls close in around her. The world outside seems miles away.

Finally, they reach a dimly lit chamber. Flickering candlelight casts long shadows over the pentagram drawn on the floor, its grooves stained with fresh blood. Names, scrawled roughly on the walls, surround them. Names she knows. Names that recently haunted her dreams.

Her breath catches. This is worse than anything she imagined.

“My dad... this was the bullshit he loaded me up with,” Nick mutters bitterly, voice shaking with something like shame.

The words slam into her like a fist. “The Shadyside killers. W-what is this, Nick?” she asks, voice trembling, even though she could already tell.

He looks at her, eyes glassy. “The curse. It wasn’t Sarah Fier…it was me”

Her heart feels like it’s being ripped out by the Milkman all over again. The curse. The murders. Tommy. Alice. Cindy. Nick’s family was behind it all.

“Y-you did this?” she breathes, disbelief mixing with horror.

Nick nods slowly. “Yes”

Her hand, which had been trembling, pulls away sharply—away from the hand that killed her sister.

“Y-you killed Cindy… Alice, Jeremy, the kids! It was all you! Why?!” Her voice breaks, tears stinging her eyes.

“I—I didn’t know…” he starts, feeling hesitant.

“You didn’t know? Know what?” Her anger flares, hotter than ever.

“How the curse worked! When my dad died, all he told me was to come here and do the instructions left on the book. Please, Ziggy, I really didn’t know!” His hands grip her arms, desperate, pleading.

But how could she believe him? How could she believe any of it? The blood on his hands felt too real.

“You didn’t know? Are you fucking kidding me? My sister died because you didn’t fucking know jackshit about the curse!” Her voice shakes with disbelief.

“If I could take it all back, I would, Ziggy. I would.” His voice breaks, eyes full of pain.

But her world is shattering.

She slaps him, hard. He looks at her with tears. His cheek turning red from the slap.

“Stay away from me!” she spits, breaking free and turning away.

Her breath comes fast, shallow. She stumbles forward and freezes when she sees it, a giant, beating heart glowing in the center of the room. It pulses with a sinister light, filling the chamber with a dark, heavy energy.

Drawn by a force she doesn’t understand, she moves closer. The air around it hums. The heart seems to whisper her name.

She reaches out, trembling, fingertips brushing the surface. A strange warmth radiates beneath her skin.

Then Nick’s hand grabs hers, yanking her back.

“W-what is this?” she gasps, pulling away from the heartbeat, shaking off the trance.

“The heart… of the curse,” Nick says quietly, dread heavy in his voice.

It all comes crashing down. “T-this is what Alice was talking about.” Her voice barely a whisper as she looks again, wanting to touch it.

“Don’t touch it! My dad told me never to touch it.” His voice is urgent, almost desperate.

“Yeah, and your daddy dearest told you to murder Shadysiders. And you listened like an idiot” she snaps, venom dripping from every word.

“Ziggy…” he starts, voice soft but filled with sorrow.

But she’s done listening.

“I fucking hate you! While you knew kids were being murdered, you decided to prank Sheila with me. Fuck you! Fuck you Nick Goode!” Her voice shakes with rage and heartbreak as she punches him to the ground, her anger increases with every punch. 

He takes it, not wanting to fight her back, knowing that he deserves this. 

“Ziggy, I’m sorry” Nick’s voice cracks. “I never thought I had a choice. All I ever knew was what my dad taught me. That this was who I was meant to be. But I want to be different.”

“No! You did have a choice, and you chose this!” She points to the heart. “You chose to use the curse. You chose Sunnyvale over Shadyside. I thought you were fucking different. You PROMISED you were different. I was wrong. You are no different from your dad, your dad’s dad and all the fucking Goode men before you. I will never forgive you, Nick Goode. Stay away from me and leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone or you might kill me. At least, I know I can keep my fucking promises”

His face crumbles. “I would never hurt you Ziggy” he promises, voice breaking.

But the poison of betrayal is too deep. “I don’t trust you. Not anymore.” She turns and walks away, tears blurring her vision.

Nick stands alone in the cold, dark room, the heartbeat echoing in the silence.

Ziggy runs, heart pounding, lungs burning. She runs from the house, from Nick, from the boy she once loved and from the terrible truth that now haunts her every step.

Chapter Text

She left with her mom in the next few days. Packing didn’t take long. The hard part was not looking at her dad. Every time her eyes even drifted in his direction, guilt twisted in her chest like a knife. He had just lost Cindy, and now he was about to lose her too. Not in the permanent, bloody way that Cindy was gone, but in a way that would still hollow him out. And she could not even give him the truth.

The truth was too surreal. If she said it out loud, it would destroy him. The Goodes killed Cindy and those kids, and no matter what they did, no matter where they ran, the curse would always be one step ahead. 

A few days had passed since Nick had brought her to the cave. In those days, something had clicked in her mind, solidifying into an ugly, unshakable truth. Sarah Fier wasn’t the monster people said she was. She had been framed, executed for something she didn’t do. The day Ziggy's blood touched that old hand bone, Sarah had been trying to show her the truth. That was why the killers had come. Cindy had died because she had bled on that bone.

Nick hadn’t tried to see her again. No surprise there. He did leave a letter on her doorstep, but she didn’t even bother opening it. Straight into the trash. Whatever his excuse was, it would never be enough. Betrayal doesn’t get patched up with a couple of sentences. He could write her the perfect apology, beg her to understand his side, and it still wouldn’t matter. Cindy would still be gone. Alice  would still be gone. And Ziggy…no…Max would still be stuck in the world without them.

Back home, the house felt bigger than it ever had. It was empty in all the wrong places. Without Neil and Billy around, it was just her and her mom. Her mom was trying, in the only way she knew how. She was working herself into the ground, took a second job, and starting to drink and smoke more. It was almost like watching a slow-motion replay of what had happened with her dad. Max could already see the next steps: bills piling up, the house going on the market, another move to another place.

She was in her room, unpacking a bag that still smelled faintly like camp and dirt and blood. She reminded herself to throw away the bag, not wanting any memories from camp. 

She was busy unpacking when a soft clink hit her window. Her head snapped up. A small pebble bounced off the glass. She leaned toward the window and saw Dustin, Lucas, and Mike standing there with their bikes.

Dustin was waving like they hadn’t seen each other in years. Lucas gave her a smaller, more hesitant wave, the kind of awkwardness that comes after you’ve broken up with someone but still care how they’re doing. And Mike… well, Mike looked like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. At least he was consistent.

She sighed and headed downstairs. No point in pretending she didn’t see them.

“Hey Max!” Dustin’s voice was pure enthusiasm. It made something ache in her, because she remembered when she used to sound like that.

“Hey. How’d you guys find me?” she asked, keeping her tone casual. She didn’t feel casual, but acting like she did was easier than explaining everything.

“My mom saw your mom at the grocery store and got to talking. Said you just got back,” Dustin explained.

“Oh… well here I am, I guess.” The words felt flat even as she said them.

“Right… so, where’d you go?”

“I stayed with my dad for a while.” Short and simple. No way was she opening that can of worms. The summer had been a nightmare she had no interest in replaying for anyone. Cindy, Alice, Tommy, Nick… that entire part of her life was a locked box now, and she didn’t want anyone finding the key.

“Cool. So we were planning to hang out at the hill and use Cerebro to talk to El and Will. Wanna join us?” Dustin’s eyes were bright with hope.

The old Max would have jumped on her skateboard in an instant. She would have told El everything. El was her first real girl friend in years, and Max had trusted her almost without thinking. But now… now there were things El could never know. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Maybe next time… you guys should go.” She tried to make it sound casual, like she was just busy, not drowning in memories.

“Cool! We’ll see you next time,” Mike said quickly, clearly eager to get to the part where they called El.

“You guys go ahead… I’ll catch up,” Lucas told them.

They both gave him a salute before riding off, Dustin tossing a look over his shoulder that made her feel vaguely guilty. Lucas watched them go, then turned back to her.

He didn’t say anything at first. The silence stretched between them, heavy and awkward. Max felt the tension buzzing in her chest, like she should say something, but the words refused to come.

“Do you want something? Because if you don’t, I’m heading back inside…” Max says, arms folding without her even thinking about it. Her tone comes out sharper than she meant, but that’s fine. 

“I just… wanted to talk,” Lucas says, like he’s searching for the right words and keeps coming up empty.

She forces a shrug. “Well talk. I don’t have all day, Lucas.” Not technically true. She does have all the time in the world, but she’s not going to just stand here and let him find out what she’s keeping inside.

“You’ve been so… distant, and I can tell when something’s bothering you. I wanna know what’s going on.”

For a second, she almost breaks. Almost. The words sit heavy in her throat — Shadyside, Cindy, Nick. All of it. The things she’s been swallowing down for months. But dragging Lucas into that? No way. He already has enough to worry about without getting front row seats to her personal horror show.

“Look, things have changed, Lucas. I’ve changed. You just… need to accept that,” she says, turning away. If she doesn’t, she might start talking, and then she won’t be able to stop.

She heads toward the house and doesn’t look back. 

That night, she dreams she’s back in Shadyside with Cindy. They’re just kids again, cross-legged on the floor of their makeshift play area, crayons scattered between them like candy. The afternoon light slants in through the curtains, dust motes floating lazily in the air. Somewhere in the corner, the old radio hums softly, dialed to the local station their dad always left on. 

It’s all background noise until a sudden jangle of guitar cuts through—a sound so electric it feels like it changes the air in the room. Christine pauses mid-color, head tilting. The voice that follows is strange and magnetic, almost like it’s laughing at the world while telling a story no one else understands. 

Ziggy played guitar… 

She looks at the radio, not fully understanding the lyrics but enjoying the music anyway. Cindy keeps coloring, but she hums along without realizing it. Christine lets the name echo in her head. Ziggy.

“You like the song, Chrissy?” Cindy asks her, using the nickname her mom had given her. It never really sounded right to her...

“Huh… yeah. It sounds so cool!” she says, grinning in a way only little kids can.

“Yeah… cool… I’m glad you like it,” Cindy says, voice dipping into something strange.

“It’s great.”

“I’m glad, Ziggy… I’m so… happy… for you.”

The words twist as blood trickles from her mouth and stains her shirt.

The crayons are gone.

The sunlight is gone.

Max blinks and she’s standing under the Hanging Tree. Cindy’s not the kid she just saw — she’s the Cindy from Nightwing, dirt and blood staining her clothes. Her white polo is a mess of axe wounds. Her hair is tangled, her hands stained with Max’s blood and the dirt from digging.

“Cindy…” Max’s voice cracks.

“Why, Ziggy? Why won’t you tell the truth?” Cindy asks, her voice slicing through the silence. “Don’t you love me?”

“You know I do! You know how much I care about you,” Max says, desperate.

“No you don’t. You never cared for me. You. Hate. Me.” Cindy’s circling her now, eyes locked like she’s daring her to deny it.

“No… no… no!” Max stumbles back. “That’s not true! I… want to be with you.” The words rip out of her before she can think. She wraps her arms around Cindy and clings to her like she can stop her from slipping away. Cindy’s arms close around her in return.

“Ziggy” Someone calls out from behind her

She turns around to see Nick with a knife on his hand. He repeatedly stabs her with the knife. She tries gasping out his name but her mouth is filled with her blood as Cindy holds her tight all of this happen.

“Ziggy, I’ll give it all to you. I’ll bring you back to your sister.” He whispers in her ear

Max’s eyes fly open. She’s in bed, her chest heaving. The room is too quiet except for the pounding in her ears. Somewhere far away, a clock chimes.