12:06 AM, HAWKINS MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, FRIDAY, HAWKINS, INDIANA

Max woke up. Max finally woke up. Holy shit.

“Holy shit!” You yelled, stumbling forward, nearly tripping over the cables by her bed. “Max, Max, can you hear me?” you asked, breath catching in your throat like it might choke you.

Max’s white eyes opened slightly, her face twitching with pain. She grunted—raspy, dry, like she hadn’t drank water in all the time she was “gone”.

“I can hear, d-dipshit…” Her voice cracked slightly, but it was hers.

You smiled, relief flooding your chest like air after drowning. She hadn’t lost her sense of humor, that was a good sign.

“I-I can’t... see, L-Lucas… wait, are my arms and legs broken…?”

You hesitated, jaw tightening. You didn’t want to answer. But lying to Max was never an option, not with the way she always cut straight through you. “…Yes.” You said finally, voice low.

“Shit.” She let the word hang in the air, heavy with more meaning than the syllable could hold. Then, she chuckled weakly.

“Well… guess I can’t be a zoomer anymore...” She spoke again, a small smile spreading on her face.