Chapter 10: Damage Control
POV: Adam
Two days post-quarry, and Adam's nosebleeds have finally stopped, leaving him hollow-eyed and shaky in the narrow infirmary bed at St. Mary's. Sister Catherine hovers with the dedicated worry of someone who's seen too many children hurt by forces beyond their control, bringing soup that tastes like cardboard and asking questions that Adam deflects with practiced evasion.
His walkie-talkie sits silent on the bedside table, a black plastic monument to severed friendships and broken trust. Forty-eight hours of static, broken only by Dustin's single message delivered with the formality of an execution notice: "We need to talk. Mike's basement. Tonight."
They've been debating what to do with me. Whether I'm friend or threat. Whether I'm even human anymore.
The thought sits in his chest like a lead weight, pressing against ribs that feel too fragile to contain the magnitude of what he's lost. In saving Mike's life, he's exposed himself as something other than the traumatized orphan they'd accepted into their circle. Now he has to face the consequences.
[PARTY COHESION: CRITICAL]
[TRUST LEVELS: SEVERELY COMPROMISED]
[RECOMMENDED ACTION: DAMAGE CONTROL]
[WARNING: FULL DISCLOSURE CARRIES HIGH RISK]
Through the bond, Scout radiates anxiety from his position in the woods beyond town. The creature doesn't understand human concepts like friendship or betrayal, but he can feel Adam's emotional distress like a physical wound. Their connection has deepened since the gate incident, strengthened by shared exhaustion and the kind of loyalty forged in crisis.
At least someone still trusts me unconditionally.
As evening approaches, Adam forces himself out of bed and into clothes that hang loose on his depleted frame. Sister Catherine tries to convince him to stay for another night of observation, but he deflects with the skill of someone who's learned to navigate adult concern without revealing dangerous truths.
"I'm feeling better," he lies, ignoring the way his hands shake as he laces his sneakers. "And my friends need me."
If they're still my friends after tonight.
The walk to Mike's house feels like a funeral march. Every step carries him closer to a reckoning he's not sure he's prepared for, a moment of truth that could either restore their trust or destroy the last connections that make his borrowed life worth living.
The Wheeler house squats in suburban normality, warm light spilling from windows that frame ordinary family scenes—parents watching television, homework being completed at kitchen tables, the comfortable rhythms of lives untroubled by interdimensional monsters and government conspiracies.
What I wouldn't give for that kind of innocence.
The basement stairs creak under his weight as he descends into the familiar sanctuary that's served as the Party's headquarters since before he knew they existed. But the atmosphere has changed. Where there used to be warmth and easy camaraderie, now there's tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
Mike sits behind his DM screen like a judge preparing to render verdict. Lucas occupies the strategic position near the stairs—cutting off retreat while maintaining his own escape route. Dustin perches on the edge of the couch, his usual ebullience dampened by circumstances that require seriousness beyond his years.
And Eleven sits in the corner, watching Adam with eyes that see too much and judge too little.
"Sit," Mike says, nodding toward the chair they've positioned in the center of the room like an interrogation seat.
Adam sits, folding his hands in his lap to hide their trembling. "Look, before you say anything—"
"No," Mike interrupts with an authority that cuts through any pretense of childhood innocence. "You talk, we listen. Then we decide what happens next."
Decide what happens next. Like I'm a problem to be solved rather than a friend to be forgiven.
The hurt must show on his face because Dustin flinches, his natural empathy warring with the necessity of the moment. But he doesn't speak, doesn't offer the easy comfort that might have come before everything changed.
"What are you?" Mike asks, and the question hangs in the air like a blade waiting to fall.
Adam takes a breath that tastes like fear and copper, then chooses his words with the precision of a surgeon making the first cut.
"I was in the lab," he says quietly. "Like El. They experimented on me. Did things to me that... changed me. I can control things. Animals. Monsters. Creatures from..." He gestures helplessly. "From somewhere else."
"For how long?" Lucas demands, his voice sharp with the kind of suspicion that comes from feeling betrayed by someone you trusted.
"Since I escaped. Since before I came to Hawkins."
It's not the whole truth. But it's true enough.
"So you've been lying to us this entire time," Mike says, and there's no question in his voice. Just flat accusation that hits like a physical blow.
"Not lying," Adam protests. "Just... not telling you everything. Would you have believed me if I'd told you on the first day that I could command monsters with my mind?"
"We might have," Dustin says quietly. "We've seen impossible things before. We're not exactly normal ourselves."
But you are normal. You're beautifully, perfectly normal kids who stumbled into nightmare circumstances. I'm the one who doesn't belong.
Silence stretches between them, weighted with unspoken questions and fractured trust. Adam watches his friends' faces, reading the calculations behind their eyes as they weigh friendship against fear, loyalty against self-preservation.
Then Dustin does something unexpected. He stands up, walks across the room, and settles into the chair beside Adam with deliberate purpose.
"He saved Mike," Dustin says, addressing the room but keeping his eyes on Adam's face. "He helped us search for Will. He protected me from Troy when he could have just walked away."
"Dustin—" Lucas starts, but Dustin cuts him off with a gesture that's pure determination.
"No, listen. If Adam wanted to hurt us, he's had a million chances. He could have let Mike fall. He could have let Troy cut my throat. Instead, he risked everything to keep us safe." Dustin's voice gains strength as he continues. "I don't care if he controls monsters or talks to aliens or has superpowers like El. He's one of us. That's what matters."
The declaration hangs in the air like a challenge. Adam feels something tight in his chest loosen slightly, a knot of fear that's been building since the moment reality tore open at the quarry.
Someone still believes in me. Someone still thinks I'm worth saving.
Mike looks torn, torn between leadership responsibilities and the undeniable logic of Dustin's argument. His gaze flicks to Eleven, seeking guidance from someone who understands the weight of dangerous secrets.
Eleven nods once, her expression grave but certain. "Good," she says simply. "Adam good. Saved Mike. Saved all of us."
Coming from her, that means everything.
Lucas remains unmoved, his arms crossed and his expression skeptical. "Okay, fine. Maybe he's not evil. But what about next time? What happens when he loses control? What happens when those things he commands decide they don't want to be controlled anymore?"
It's a fair question, one that Adam's been asking himself since his powers first manifested. The system provides control mechanisms, loyalty meters and behavioral predictors, but ultimately he's commanding creatures that exist to hunt and kill. The potential for disaster is always present.
"I don't know," Adam admits. "But I know I'd rather face that risk than watch my friends get hurt when I could have prevented it."
Mike finally speaks, his voice carrying the weight of decisions that no twelve-year-old should have to make.
"Conditions," he says. "No more lies. No more hiding things that affect the group. And you use those... things... to help find Will. Whatever's out there, whatever took him, we're going to need all the help we can get."
Adam nods immediately. "Agreed. On all counts."
Except the part about meta-knowledge. That's one secret that has to stay buried.
"And if you ever put us in danger," Lucas adds, "if those monsters of yours ever threaten innocent people, we're done. No second chances."
"Understood."
Mike extends his hand across the space between them, and Adam stares at it for a moment before understanding the gesture. Not just a handshake, but a treaty. An agreement between allies who don't entirely trust each other but recognize the necessity of cooperation.
Adam grasps Mike's hand, feeling the calluses from D&D dice and bike handlebars, the strength that comes from refusing to give up on lost friends.
"Partners?" Mike asks.
"Partners," Adam confirms.
They shake on it, and Adam feels Scout's approval ripple through their bond. The creature doesn't understand human politics, but he recognizes pack dynamics when he sees them. The group has reformed around new parameters, stronger in some ways for having survived the fracture.
[PARTY RELATIONSHIPS RECALIBRATED]
[DUSTIN HENDERSON: LOYAL FRIEND (75%)]
[MIKE WHEELER: UNEASY ALLIANCE (40%)]
[LUCAS SINCLAIR: DEEP SUSPICION (25%)]
[ELEVEN: UNDERSTANDING ALLY (65%)]
[NEW QUEST ACQUIRED: PROVE YOUR WORTH]
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: +1000 XP (COURAGE BONUS)]
As they break up for the night, dividing into the familiar patterns of friendship despite the new tensions underneath, Adam feels something that might be hope stirring in his chest. He's lost their unconditional trust, but he's gained something potentially more valuable—acceptance of who he really is, or at least the parts of himself he's willing to reveal.
Walking home under stars that seem brighter than before, his walkie-talkie crackles to life with Dustin's voice, warm with the kind of affection that transcends fear.
"Hey Adam? Thanks for saving Mike. Even if you are a weirdo."
Adam laughs despite himself, the sound rusty with disuse but genuine. "Copy that. Thanks for believing in me."
Maybe trust isn't binary. Maybe it's something you build piece by piece, choice by choice, until it becomes strong enough to bear the weight of terrible truths.
Through the bond, Scout sends contentment from his patrol route around St. Mary's. The creature has found peace in the restoration of pack harmony, even if he doesn't understand the human complexities that made it necessary.
And in the distance, barely perceptible even to enhanced senses, something vast and hungry stirs in the spaces between dimensions, drawn by the psychic resonance of children with power beyond their understanding.
But tonight, Adam allows himself to feel something approaching happiness as he climbs the orphanage steps. He has friends who know what he is and choose to stand with him anyway. He has purpose beyond mere survival.
And tomorrow, they'll begin the work of finding Will Byers and facing whatever nightmare waits in the place between worlds.
Maybe I can be a hero after all. Maybe that's worth the price of admission to this impossible life.
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