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The low hum of the van's tires over asphalt was a steady anchor in the heavy quiet of the cab as the beast rumbled its way back toward Hawkins. Up front, the frantic back-and-forth between Hopper, Joyce, and Murray bled into a continuous wave of white noise, but Misty ignored it entirely. She sat staring out the side window, one arm braced along the bench seat, her mind trapped in a labyrinth of far more dangerous thoughts.

The walls were closing in. It was a miracle her secrets had stayed buried for five years, but Hopper and Joyce were getting terrifyingly close to putting the pieces together. They knew she'd worked at Hawkins Lab. Hopper had already clocked that Isaac was gifted. If they kept digging, it wouldn't take long to find the ghost of Henry Creel hiding behind her son's eyes.

But as the trees blurred past in the fading evening light, a deeper riddle tugged at her. She was still trying to make sense of the sensation that had struck her hours earlier on the road, a sudden, suffocating wave of grief that had nearly crushed the breath out of her. It hadn't felt like her own sorrow. It had felt external. Vast. Overwhelming in a way that wasn't hers to carry. And there'd been the voice, faint, low, impossible, slipping through the static right as she woke. What was that?

Before she could sink deeper into the memory straining under that freezing weight, a gruff voice cut through her isolation.

" Starling." Hopper's Bruised profile caught the green glow of the dashboard lights in the rearview mirror. He adjusted his grip on the wheel, sighing. " When we hit town, I'm dropping you and the kid somewhere safe. Where do you want off?"

Misty pulled her gaze from the glass, her hand rising instinctively to cover the bruises at her throat. She knew the truth Hopper didn't: the Flayed were stalking Hawkins right now, a network of flesh and bone hunting for her on the Mind Flayers' orders. A motel. The clearing. Either one made her a sitting duck.

" The safest place for us right now is probably with you," she said quietly, her voice still rough.

Hopper's brow furrowed, a heavy sigh escaping him. He was clearly reluctant to bring her and her child anywhere near a Soviet military installation. But he caught the look in her eyes through the mirror and recognized it instantly.

"Suit yourself." He shook his head, focusing back on the road. Years of knowing her had taught him that once Misty made up her mind, there was no arguing her out of it.

She rested her cheek against the top of the seat, letting the plan settle. It was tactical, really. The soldiers under Satrcourt had a target list, but it included only Hopper, Joyce, and the break-in at Hess Farm. They didn't know about her. They wouldn't be looking for an illustrator and a quiet six-year-old.

And Alexei wouldn't give her up. The scientist genuinely seemed to like her and Isaac both.

She looked across the aisle, a faint smile breaking through despite the storm gathering around them. Isaac sat across the aisle, a faint smile breaking through despite the storm gathering around them. Isaac sat pressed against Alexei's side, his small auburn head resting comfortably against him. Alexei had one arm loosely wrapped around the boy, still talking a mile a minute to Murray in rapid Russian, his other hand gesturing toward the maps that the other man held. Isaac didn't understand a word of it, but he didn't pull away either; he just leaned into the calm, steady rhythm of the scientist's voice, finding a strange pocket of peace in the middle of a collapsing universe.

The camper van tore down the final stretch of highway into town, neon from the Ferris wheel and the distant pop of fireworks lighting up the sky as they neared the Hawkins Fourth of July Fun Fair. Hopper slammed the van into park near a side entrance, his battered face set in a grim line. They'd checked the house and the cabin both for the kids. " Whole town's out here, they've gotta be in the crowd," Hopper spoke as he got out of the car.

The group pushed into the fairgrounds, swallowed instantly by carnival music, shouting families, and the thick smell of fried food. " Right, Joyce and I will take the east side; you three check the games area. We'll meet back here in ten"

Misty and Murray nodded their heads while Isaac excitedly pulled Alexei towards the games. Misty and Murray followed behind like some sort of guardians of both the scientist and the little boy. " Seems like a bad time to get a statement from you about that lab," Murray spoke softly as he watched Alexei light up seeing a dart-and-balloon booth.

" Yeah, it is, and if you bring it up again around my son, your nose will be the last thing I'll break," She very casually threatened with a smile on her face. " I didn't spend five years keeping it a secret just so you could dig up my dirty laundry"

Murray seemed rather taken aback by the fact that Misty would so brazenly threaten him like that, but he almost seemed impressed. There was no doubt that she could do it; Misty had enough fight in her that she was dangerous. But not many people saw that side of her, but Murray could. This was a woman who was in the belly of the beast; he had no doubts that she'd make good on her word.

" One day you'll have to tell me the story. I'm curious about the mysterious nurse they found washed up in the local hospital with no memory of how she got there." He'd done his research, but the warning look in Misty's hazel eyes had said enough. He was treading on dangerous waters.

" Sure, when it snows in the Sahara I'll give you the scoop." She said dryly as she came up on Alexei and Isaac, looking at the various prizes they had at this game booth. They were supposed to look for the children, but she supposed that she could pay for them to both play. She paid for both her and Alexei, and gathered her darts. stepping up to the counter alongside him. Her darts missed everything, a soft, rasping laugh catching in her throat.

Alexei puffed out his chest, looking to Misty and saying something she could only assume was the russian version of 'watch and learn'. Stepping up with total confidence, throwing with perfect precision, popping every target.

He turned to Misty with a genuine smile that she matched, but for some reason her chest felt hollow. Looking at the man next to her, who was eagerly collecting his Woody Woodpecker stuffed toy, a wide grin, childish and pure, as he held the prize up like a trophy. Bouncing on his heels as he turned to show Isaac.

If things had been different, would the person beside her be someone else?

She moved to collect Isaac, Alexei walking a bit away from her and Murray. Something felt…wrong suddenly, a crack of a popped balloon, but something was masked beneath it. Something that she was very familiar with the sound of. Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd as she felt the cold chill of fear rush through her.

Where was Alexei?

She turned to Murray to tell him what she'd just sensed before noticing he was gone too. She and Isaac were alone in the crowd, her son's small hand gripping hers as he led her past the booths into a dark alleyway between the tents. The violent shift in the air's frequency froze her solid; Murray had his shirt pressed against a deep wound in Alexei's stomach, his face bone-white.

" I need to find help!" Murray's hands were slick with blood.

Misty dropped beside them, sinking into the dirt as her mind snapped into something cold and clinical, her nurse instinct overriding panic. " I've got him. We need to get him back to my cabin, find Hopper !"

Murray hesitated a half-second before sprinting back into the crowd.

Misty pressed both hands over the spirit, trying to steady the pressure, her palms slick with warmth. Alexei's breathing had gone shallow and rattling, his glasses askew. He didn't look down at the wound. He looked up at her instead, and through the pain, something like a real smile broke through. His hand rose, and he brushed his fingers through her fiery red hair, causing her to finally look at him.

Seeing him smiling up at her, murmuring the words she'd remembered he'd said about her and her fiery hair back at Murray's. She tried to smile, her lip quivering. " Hey… Hey, don't worry, I got you," She assured him. His hand fell from her face, a smear of blood on her cheek. He seemed content; he wasn't dying alone in some cold corner of a country that wasn't his. He was looking at the woman who'd called him a puppy. Who shared a moment of kindness with him, and who was now crying for him.

Isaac knelt on the scientist's other side, his pale blue eyes wide, calm, and unnervingly still. He reached out and rested small fingers against Alexei's limp wrist, tracking the fading pulse beneath.

For a few long minutes the world narrowed to that alley. Misty kept her hold tight on the shirt. " Just hold on, " She murmured to the scientist, keeping the pressure steady even as she felt it stop mattering. His eyes fluttered shut. His chest rose once more, and didn't rise again.

Misty moved one of her hands to Alexei's cheek. " Hey… Alexei, wake up." There was no response, no movement. Her breathing was rapid as she felt the swell of grief overwhelm her. She smoothed his hair back, smearing blood on his face that made her hands tremble and still.

She felt panic rise in her chest, making it tight and suffocating. Her pulse quickened; she could feel the anxiety beginning to overwhelm her as she began to start resuscitation on Alexei. " Don't die on me," She whispered between puffs of air, trying to bring him back stubbornly even though part of her knew it was too late.

Her son was quiet, watching his mother give the man CPR, trying her best to bring him back. His hand moved to his mother's shoulder as she'd been down to try and breathe air back into his lungs, stopping Misty in her tracks.

" He's gone." Isaac's voice was soft in the sudden quiet. Looking up at his mother, that same unnerving composure settled over his small face. " He slipped away, Mom"

Misty finally pulled back, sinking into the dirt as she looked to her son, who was calmer about all of this than she was. His blue eyes stared straight into hers, flashes of his father crossing her mind. Memories of seeing his blood-stained face and those same eyes looking back at her.

She couldn't save him; why did she think that she'd be able to save Alexei?

By the time Joyce and Murray came sprinting back into the alley, the scene had gone still. Misty sat back on her heels, tears cutting silent tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, her hands soaked dark red.

" Oh, my god." Joyce's voice broke as she ran forward.

But there was no time to grieve. Boots were already pounding somewhere close; guards were closing in. Murray scooped Isaac into his arms while Joyce hauled Misty up by her bloodied hand, pulling her hard out of the alley. They sprinted for the back gate and piled into the van just as Hopper burst out of the Fun House mirror maze and threw himself into the driver's seat.

Murray fumbled with the stolen military radio, his face draining further as the Russian transmission crackled through.

" They found the kids." He looked back at them. " They've got them cornered at Starcourt."The engine roared. Hopper wrenched the van into a screeching U-turn and tore back toward town.

In the back of the accelerating van, Misty's breathing slowly leveled out, her resolve locking back into place as she calmed herself. But her eyes dropped to her lap, to the blood, dark and already drying on her fingers, and the floor dropped out from under her.

The memory hit without warning. Blood on linoleum, the bodies of children she'd colored with every day, and Henry standing at the center of it all, staring back at her from a face she used to trust completely. Her heart slammed. Her lungs seized, past and present colliding until she couldn't tell which one she was breathing through. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the edge of the seat until her knuckles went white.

What brought her back was a calm, cool touch from small stable hands. Causing a warmth to spread softly from the point of contact, familiar and calming. Causing her to suck in a sharp breath, tears spilling from her eyes as she sank into the familiar feeling. She looked over to her son. Finally pulling herself together and leaning down to kiss the top of his head, holding the little boy close to her.

She had no doubts this must be traumatic for him, but he was handling this surprisingly well. So startlingly well in fact that Misty contemplated how much of it was the emergence of his strange power, and how much of it was him being the carbon copy of his father. The warm sense that had just blossomed from the grounding touch reminded her of the gentle touches to the side of her temple.

Even with the Soteria, he still could do that much for her, and it seemed now that Isaac's powers had begun awakening, he'd inherited the same soft current. But she'd have time to think of this later.

The van screeched into the Starcourt lot, the adults not wasting a second. They burst through the atrium's glass entrance just as a squad of Soviet soldiers had the kids cornered at gunpoint. Steve and Hopper moved in perfect sync, plowing a display car through the upper barricade and flipping it onto the soldiers below, crushing the threat in one brutal stroke.

In the chaos afterward, the group gathered to split into teams.

Misty stepped forward, one hand resting on Isaac's shoulder, and looked at Hopper. "I'm going with you three into the elevator shaft. Her voice left no room to argue. " Isaac stays topside."

She turned and walked her son over to Dustin and Erica, who were gearing up to head for the Highest hill in Hawkins, and the radio tower Dustin nicknamed Cerebro. Dustin looked up, curiosity sharpening into focus.

"He can help you with the layout," Misty told Dustin, dead serious. " I'll answer how later, but just trust me and let him help you. " Her eyes held Dustin's, seeing the confusion and question in them as she'd basically handed her gifted son over to them. " Keep him safe?" Her voice was soft as she let Isaac go with Dustin, the boy holding onto Erica's hand.

" I've got him. I promise. " Dustin gave a firm nod as Erica adjusted her walkie gear and held onto Isaac, who just watched her curiously.

Isaac looked up at his mother one last time, his blue eyes carrying a quiet, complete understanding of what was at stake. No complaint. He simply fell into line with the Radio team, ready to be their compass.

Misty took a nervous final breath to steady herself and turned back to Hopper, Joyce, and Murray. Adorning the stolen Russian uniforms with them, preparing to descend into the shaft.

The air grew rapidly colder as the massive industrial elevator plunged deep beneath Starcourt Mall. Hopper, Joyce, and Murray stood rigid in their stolen uniforms, faces tight with tension, while Misty stood a step behind them, her hand over her stomach as she suddenly felt strange the deeper inside the facility they got.

Her sensitivity to the frequency of the electronics was screaming. The closer they got to the fortress below, the louder the air vibrated around her. It was raw, familiar; the scent of copper and ozone could be tasted in the air. Her anxiety threatened to spike her again, her mind racing with thoughts: flashes of Hawkins lab, the pulse of electricity through her veins, the taste of iron on her tongue. The distinct, freezing pressure of the gate itself. The barrier was cracking, and it was sending a violent current straight through her bones.

Hopper's walkie crackled to life, Dustin's voice cutting through the static.

" Bald Eagle, this is Scoop Troop. Do you copy? We are at Cerebro."

" We copy, kid." Hopper stepped off the elevator as the doors hissed open onto a vast, sterile concrete corridor. " We're on the lower levels. Give us a path."

Behind Dustin's frantic breathing, a small, steady voice broke through: Isaac.

" Tell them to hold." His voice was tiny, but carried that same chilling precision his father had. " Three men around the left bend. Long guns. Wait until the lights blink twice."

"…Copy that ?" Both Hopper and Joyce looked back at Misty in confusion as they listened to a little boy tell them not just which way to go, but tell them what to look out for. Before the two could ask Misty or even Isaac, for that matter, what he meant. The lights to their right flickered twice, under a small power surge, as they slipped past the intersection unseen.

" So your kid really is like Eleven," Hopper said simply as they walked down the corridor. Misty remained quiet for a beat. Now between Hopper and Joyce at the front, and Murray trailing at the back.

" It's a long story." Her voice was quiet as they walked down the hall, following Isaac's directions as he softly spoke them over the walkie, the lights often flickering in the direction that they needed to go. Winding through the concrete maze until they reached the blast doors of the main communications hub, the splitting point, Murray would go through the secondary ventilation shaft to reach the frequency vault, while Hopper, Joyce, and Misty pushed forward into the primary chamber.

The group was quiet for a moment; a look between Joyce and Hopper made Misty's stomach flip nervously before Murray broke the silence. " Be careful," He muttered, all his usual sarcasm gone, checking his sidearm before disappearing into the crawl space.

The trek down the final walkway was quiet; Hopper and Joyce stayed close to one another. murmuring quietly between one another when Joyce looked back at Misty with concern in her eyes.

This silence between the three of them didn't make her feel anxious; it made her angry. The two of them had been treating her differently ever since they'd found out about the Lab, and now here was her strange son giving them directions.

" Hold!" Isaac's little voice chirped from the other side of the walkie. " Into the left room quick"

They didn't have much time to ask questions before ducking into the little closet area. " Stay there…It'll be a moment." Isaac's seemed to be getting tired on the other end of the radio.

Hopper didn't waste the moment they were given. He walked toward Misty. Gripping the collar of her uniform before he dragged her over to sit by Joyce.

" You're going to give us some answers. You're not going to speak or deflect. I ask, you answer," Hopper said sternly as he propped his leg up on the other side, leaning his hand on his knee as he made sure Misty couldn't escape.

" The kid. We've seen Eleven's mom; how'd you get out of there without them knowing?" He asked her pointedly.

"Owen knew I was pregnant. He smuggled me out. " She answered honestly as she folded her hands between her knees, avoiding eye contact.

" I was with her when she had Isaac; she's telling the truth," Joyce spoke up to Hopper to back up Misty's claim. " But she couldn't remember who the father was till recently. Was that a lie?" She'd asked Misty.

Misty shook her head. " No, I couldn't remember till that night Eleven closed the gate at Hawkins lab. Everything was a blur till then; I can't entirely tell you why that happened." She was honest, though she knew the reason why. She just wasn't going to let them in on it.

" Right, and you had one of those creatures skulking around your property. You didn't tell me about that either. So I don't buy that," Hopper said, clearly distrustful of her claim to not know why she couldn't remember.

Misty avoided eye contact with her friends, looking straight down at the floor. She felt cornered right now, and honestly had wished that Murray hadn't said anything earlier about her working at the Lab.

"I was an experiment…For Brenner. He had no use for me, so they got rid of me… Isaac's dad used to come check on me from time to time under Owens' orders. He stopped after the lab ended up going dark." She spoke softly as she recounted what she'd told Joyce.

Joyce nodded. " I remember you telling me that. Those creatures killed a lot of their staff."

Hopper still stared Misty down before he moved to sit on the other side of her, running his hand along his chin as he looked away from her and Joyce. " No more stories, got it?" he asked Misty. Turning to her and nudged her with his shoulder.

" We can't help you if you don't tell us things." He sounded frustrated but still kind. Hopper had always been like an older brother to Misty. Ever since they were kids, he was always protective of her. She was glad this didn't seem to change that.

" I'll try; there are spots in my memory still I can't really get past. But I'll try to be more honest." She still didn't look up from the floor, feeling quite like a scolded child at this moment. But her eyes darted towards the movement of Joyce's hand that clasped her own, giving a reassuring squeeze.

Hopper went to say something, but the Radio sparked to life. " Move, quickly." Isaac's voice cut through the silence. Causing the adults to hop up and continue on their path, there would be more time to interrogate her on her life when they weren't in a secret Soviet base.

Misty, Joyce, and Hopper moved down the final walkway. The air turned bitterly cold, wind whipping past as they stepped out onto the massive suspended catwalk.

And there it was.

The key.

A monstrous, impossibly complex machine dominated the center of the cavern, its laser firing an erratic, blinding beam into a jagged tear in the concrete walls. The gate. Pulsing orange, angry, shedding thick plumes of interdimensional ash into the freezing air.

Misty stopped dead. Her breathing went shallow, ragged, her mind splitting in two directions at once. While Hopped and Joyce rushed the control console, she stared into the light of the right; the thread that pulled at her core didn't just tighten, it roared. She could feel the pull bleeding through the fracture. He was right there. Just on the other side of the ice.

" We're at the console!" Joyce's voice cut through the mechanical roar. She and Hopper each grabbed one of the two matching override keys, slotting them into locks spaced yards apart. To overload the machine, both had to turn at once.

But as Hopper moved toward his lock, the catwalk's metal door blew inward. Grigori burst through, unblinking, his eyes locked on Hopper. A brutal fight erupted between them, both men slamming into each other beside the spinning, unstable turbine blades.

" Misty! The key, get to the other lock !" Joyce screamed.

Misty stumbled forward, boots heavy on the grating. She reached the second lock, closed her hand around the cold metal, and froze.

She couldn't turn it.

If I turn this, the gate closes forever. Henry stays trapped. He stays lost.

She didn't want to shut it down. She wanted the laser to keep tearing, wanted the barrier to shatter completely so she could walk through the ruins herself and bring him home. The temptation to just let it run was suffocating, a physical ache pulling her hand still.

She'd completely ignored everything around her, having disassociated in the moment. She couldn't hear Hopper yelling, nor Joyce speaking to her till her friend finally pulled her back from the abyss.

"Misty! Turn it now!" Joyce's face had gone pale, tears of pure panic in her eyes as Hopper fought for his life a few feet away.

Misty's chest heaved, a pit catching in her ruined throat as she stared into the bleeding orange crack. Her thoughts were on Isaac on the hill, the Kids cornered in the atrium. The shadow that wanted to destroy her. If she didn't turn it, none of them would live long enough for her to ever get the chance to find him.

She took a deep breath.

" Joyce, now !"

They forced both keys past the safety locks in the same instant Hopper drove Grigori into the spinning turbine blades. The machine buckled. The grid screamed as unstable energy backfired through the mainframe.

A blinding rupture of blue and orange light tore out from the core as the Key began to die. Misty kept her eyes open, staring into the flash, holding onto one last desperate hope that the backfire would blow the tear wide so she could enter before the gate sealed for good.

Then the light swallowed everything, the roar climbing to a final, deafening peak before the world went black, leaving the fortress in silent, ash-choked ruin.

Sirens wailed in the distance as Dustin, Erica, and Isaac came sprinting down the grassy hill, sneakers skidding over gravel as they hit the smoke-choked, glass-strewn parking lot of Starcourt Mall.

Topside, the nightmare had ended in a grotesque spectacle. The towering flesh monster had collapsed the instant the gate shut down below, its dark tissue sizzling, melting into a pile of foul gray sludge.

Survivors stumbled out of the shattered mall entrance in a daze, Nancy, Jonathan, Mike, Lucas, and a completely drained Eleven, leaning heavily against a car.

Misty, Joyce, and Murray emerged from the lower levels, their stolen uniforms coated in ash and dust, their faces hollowed out by the loss of Hopper. But before Misty could even call for her son, Isaac's hand slipped free of Dustin's grip.

The child walked forward with quiet, unblinking focus, deaf to the shouting adults and flashing lights. He stopped a foot from the wreckage, able to see Billy's body from his vantage point.

Isaac tilted his head, eyes fixed on Billy's face like he was tuning into a frequency no one else could hear. He stood rigid, that same eerie, serene composure he'd inherited from his father settling over him, as if something buried deep in the fading hive mind was speaking to him directly.

After a long beat, his gaze drifted from Billy to the steaming, skeletal remains of the flesh monster.

He seemed to lock into a trance, pupils dilated, hands loose at his sides.

" Hey, buddy, come here. Jonathan broke through his own shock and jogged across the asphalt, scooping Isaac up and holding him close.

Isaac didn't flinch. He just rested a hand on Jonathan's shoulder, his eyes turning serious as he pointed at the ruined pile of flesh.

"That's the shadow monster from my dreams," he said softly, but clear enough to cut straight through the noise of the parking lot.

Jonathan went rigid. He turned to Nancy, who'd walked up beside him, and something silent and terrified passed between them, the memory of Will's drawings years ago, dark and cosmic, and the sudden, sick understanding that this child was dreaming the exact same thing.

A foot away, Will Byers stood frozen. He'd heard every word. His hand flew instinctively to the back of his neck, where his skin still prickled with a fading, icy current.

His earlier suspicions from when they were at the ruined Cabin locked into place. Isaac wasn't just a quiet kid from the woods. He was seeing what Will had seen. Tuned into the same Maze. The same frequency of the Mind Flayer that had just tried to swallow Hawkins whole.

Misty pushed through the crowd, her face streaked with dirt and tears, her hands still faintly stained with Alexei's blood. She reached him just as Jonathan passed the boy back into her arms, burying her face in his auburn curls. When her eyes tracked back up to the company around her, she'd realized that multiple eyes were on her, and more importantly, her son.

There was no hiding it anymore; their secret was out.

And her quiet life off-grid, hiding from the past, was over.

Three months later, the golden summer heat of Hawkins had faded into a crisp, bittersweet October afternoon. The Byers driveway was cluttered with cardboard boxes, rolled-up rugs, and the looming shape of a moving truck.

Misty stood near the dining room, mechanically sealing a box of old kitchenware. A few feet away, Joyce wrapped a ceramic lamp in newspaper, her movements sharp, tense. The silence between them was suffocating, a weight neither of them had touched since that night beneath Starcourt.

Misty finally broke it, a slow breath catching in her throat. " Are you ever going to talk to me again, Joyce?"

Joyce froze, the half-wrapped lamp held against her chest. She hesitated a long, agonizing second before turning, her face a mix of exhaustion and betrayal.

" I don't know who you are anymore, Misty." Her voice was low, sharp. " I really don't. We find out you worked at that lab, and I saw you down there. I saw how you looked at that machine. You hesitated. You hesitated hard to turn it off."

Misty went quiet, her fingers gripping the cardboard box until her knuckles paled.

"You have so many secrets." Joyce shook her head. " And it feels like the weirder this town gets, the more it circles back to you. Like you're right in the middle of it."

"Joyce—" Misty's voice cracked. I didn't—I don't remember much from my time at the lab. I've told you this"

Joyce looked at her, heartbroken. " I wish I could believe that."

Without another word, she took the box from Misty's hands, turned, and walked toward the truck's ramp.

Misty stood frozen in the driveway, watching her friend's retreating back. For a fleeting second, she considered telling Joyce the whole, unfiltered truth. But how could she explain that Isaac's father was a ghost from her own childhood, that Henry Creel had spent twenty years hidden in that subterranean wing, that she'd watched Eleven blast him into another world with her own eyes?

She couldn't. Not all of it. But she couldn't let Joyce leave like this either.

Before Joyce could step out of the truck, Misty climbed the ramp after her and took both her hands.

" Please. Just listen." Her eyes were soft and steady. " I was a nurse. I worked in that lab, and I worked directly with Eleven before any of this started. But something went wrong down there. Something terrible happened, and they fried me. And to make sure I could never tell anyone what Brenner was doing… they did something to me. A chemical wipe. They made me forget everything."

Joyce went rigid, her hands twitching inside Misty's grip, eyes widening at the raw weight in her friend's face.

" I still can't remember most of it," Misty pressed on, the words spilling out fast now, desperate." The amnesia left scars. And the therapist who used to come by the cabin, he knew what the lab had done to me. He was trying to help me put the pieces back together. " She swallowed hard. " There's so much I still can't explain, Joyce. But I want to. I swear I want to."

Joyce stood there, chest heaving, the anger draining out of her and something softer taking its place. The lab. What it had done to Will, to Eleven, it mapped painfully well onto the fracture peices of Misty's story.

Her eyes softened. She let go of Misty's hands and pulled her into a fierce, tight hug.

" I'm sorry," she said into her shoulder, voice thick but steady. " I'm so sorry, Misty."

Misty held on just as tight, letting out a long breath. " I'm sorry too. You're my best friend, Joyce. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you out here. My whole world gets so much smaller with you guys gone. "

They stepped back, a quiet, solid understanding restored between them, even as the weight of moving day pressed in around them.

Joyce pulled back from the hug, her hands resting gently on Misty's arms as she looked at her with a soft, wistful expression. " You're going to come visit us out there, right? I'm holding you to that."

" I promise, Joyce." Misty offered a genuine, reassuring nod. " You won't be able to keep me away."

Down by the station wagon, Eleven and Will stepped toward Isaac. Eleven, still quiet, still carrying the weight of her own lost powers, dropped to one knee to meet him at eye level. She opened her arms, and Isaac, with his usual quiet serenity, stepped forward and wrapped his small arms around her neck. Will joined a moment later, burying his face briefly in the boy's auburn curls. Isaac hugged them both back with a fierce warmth surprising for a kid who usually shied from touch.

Watching from the truck's ramp, Misty felt a bittersweet tightening in her chest. She glanced at Joyce, nodding toward the teenagers. " I might send Isaac out to you for a summer. Just so he can be with the kids for a while. He really likes those two."

Joyce looked down at the three children, her expression softening into something fragile and beautiful. " We'd love that. He's always welcome. Misty."

The two friends shared one final, deep hug, a quiet cementing of the peace they'd just made. Before the schedule pulled them apart. Jonathan closed the station wagon's hatch, and one by one the family piled into the loaded vehicles.

Misty stood at the edge of the driveway, a grounding hand on Isaac's shoulder as the engines rumbled to life. Tired crunched over gravel as the cars pulled away. Eleven pressed her face to the rear window, dark eyes locked on them, waving a small, lingering goodbye until the vehicles rounded the corner and disappeared.

Misty watched the empty street for a long moment, the quiet of the afternoon settling over the neighborhood. She took a slow breath and guided Isaac toward her old truck. "Come on, let's go home. "

Back in the heart of Mirkwood, the clearing lay blanketed in fallen leaves. The cabin's interior was peacefully quiet, the old refrigerator humming its familiar rhythm.

Misty sat at her drafting table, afternoon light filtering through the window as her charcoal pencil moved with quiet, practiced precision. She wasn't drawing the dark, vine-choked shapes from her dreams today. Instead, her hand rendered a memory: Alexei on the bench of the camper van, engaged in conversation with Murray, who was not rendered here as Isaac leaned against his side. A way to keep him alive, in the only way she knew how.

A loud, energetic knock rattled the front door.

Misty went rigid, pencil pausing mid-stroke as her intuition flared. She set the charcoal down and crossed the room, throwing the door open.

Eddie Munson stood on her porch, wild dark curls framing a massive theatrical grin, denim vest over a long-sleeved shirt, rings clinking as he threw his hands up. " Did you miss me, O' Grand Enchantress of the wood?"

Misty laughed, delighted, the ache in her throat forgotten as she pulled him into a fierce hug. Eddie went rigid for half a second, his pale face flushing crimson against her red hair, before his arms came up around her with awkward, deep reverence. His quiet, one-sided crush on her still going strong for as long as he'd been delivering her propane, always treating her like something too good to disturb. Even without a word, his ears burned red just from standing this close.

" You have no idea how much," Misty murmured, pulling him inside.

" Eddie's back!" Isaac's voice rang from the hallways. He ran out, a rare spark of real excitement in his eyes, straight into Eddie's one-armed embrace. Eddie dropped to his knees to catch him, ruffling his auburn curls like a proud older brother.

"Hey there, little man! You think I'd stay out of state forever?" Eddie pulled a hidden paper bag from his jacket and set it on the counter, digging through it with the manic enthusiasm of a kid at Christmas. " Brought back souvenirs for my favorite people. Behold!"

He pulled out a pristine vinyl record, holding it up like a holy relic. " For the prince of the cabin, a brand-new copy of The Doors: Morrison Hotel. Strictly educational, of course. "

Isaac's eyes went wide. He took the sleeve with a quiet nod, and marched straight to the record player, carefully setting the needle down. The low rhythm of " Roadhouse Blues" drifted through the cabin, cutting through the autumn quiet.

" And for the lady of the woods…" Eddie's voice softened, the flush still lingering on his cheeks. He drew out a flowing black shawl embroidered with fire-orange flowers. " Saw it at a shop past the border. It kind of screamed your name. Couldn't help myself."

Misty stepped closer, taking the fabric in her hands, smiling up at him. " Thank you, Eddie. It's beautiful"

He barked out an eccentric laugh to cover the stammer in his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, ears redder than his face. " Hey, what can I say? Your knight in shining armor is always on high alert. We're back to boring propane deliveries tomorrow, but, man, I missed you guys."

" We missed you too. " She draped the shawl over her shoulder. " Stay for dinner. I'm about to start cooking."

" Are you kidding? I'd never turn down a free meal from you." Eddie hopped onto a barstool and launched into a wild story about his band's road trip, rings flashing as he gestured, Isaac perched beside him, hanging on every word.

Misty turned to the stove, warmth settling deep in her chest as she watched her small, unconventional family fill the cabin with noise and life. She pulled a heavy iron skillet from the cabinet, the record's steady rhythm framing Eddie's laughter.

Then, as her hand reached the stove dial, the room shifted.

The record's low hum warped, the chords stretching into a slow, agonizing distortion. A cold, localized pressure clamped behind her ears, and the hairs on her arms rose. That guiding thread she used to make her way through the maze didn't just tighten. It pulled taut with a terrible, rhythmic pulse.

Through the music, through Eddie's laughter, she heard it.

Tick... tick... tick...

The deep, hollow chime of a grandfather clock, somewhere within the walls themselves.

Misty went rigid, a shiver ripping down her spine as the skillet nearly slipped from her numb fingers. The room seemed to fade, replaced by the phantom weight of frozen ash. She turned her head slowly, breath catching, hazel eyes locking on the dark windowpane, past the clearing, past the dense canopy of Mirkwood, toward the distant, decaying silhouette of the old Creel house.