#cosmic 2

||3rd Person POV||

The truck comes to a gradual halt before shutting down altogether. Hopper is the first to exit the car and is soon followed by El. Her heart plummets all the way down to her stomach when she gazes up at the building in front of her. All of her fears that had accumulated during the car ride over now manifest itself into a hole that swallows her up. In an instant, she's a prisoner again. A weapon.

[FLASHBACK]

The cat began snarling, and it quickly turned to whimpers of pain. Eleven was freely crying now as she looked between the frightened cat and Papa.

《•••》

Eleven struggles to break free from the men's hold as they carry her by her arms down, back into the room.

Sobs racked her body as she uses all her strength to turn and look back at Papa.

"Papa!" He steps out into the hallway and remains standing, doing nothing to help her, yet she still calls for him.

《•••》

Eleven's stomach sinks lower than she does as the platform she stands on descends into the tank. Her hands grip the rails tightly, knowingly her only connection tethering her to reality as she becomes one with the water.

《•••》

The very world begins to shatter around her as it collides with the Upside Down. All the while, she is still held captive in her mind, her body fights to be free and her arms bang furiously on the glass of the isolation tank.

Her horrified screams blend with the cracking of tile and asphalt as the lab begins to crumble.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

A thud rips her from her thoughts and she turns to find Hopper stepping away from the trunk, gun in hand. Her breathing is shallow but she manages to calm it for the time being. The screeches of the Demodogs ring continuously into the night, and Hopper scans the area.

"Alright," he assures, gesturing to the lab. "You let me do the heavy lifting up front, alright? You save your strength 'till we're below."

She does not answer, and Hopper knows it is not her usual silence. He sees her hesitant expression and feels a pang in his heart for her.

"You okay?"

Again, she does not answer. But her previously frightened gaze quickly molds into that of intense determination and she stalks off towards the lab with Hopper on her heels.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The first thing Steve notices as his brain begins to stir is the overwhelming amount of pain in his face and abdomen. There isn't a spot on his head that isn't throbbing, and as his face begins to twitch he notes his face is stained in blood that crusted and tightened his skin.

His hearing returns next and was that... sloshing he heard? He let out an involuntarily groan as he turned his head. His vision is still wildly out of focus but he swears he can make out the words, 'GASOLINE FILLER' on a large red canister. His vision worsens as he cranes his head up to look at the person holding it, and his brain tries desperately to make a connection.

"Nancy?"

Mike's brows knit together in an unsettled and puzzled frown as he looks at Steve unpleasantly.

Another groan escapes Steve as his head moves back to a more comfortable position, and shakily he struggles to bring a hand up to his face. He hisses in pain when he touches one of many injuries.

"No, don't touch it." Dustin's voice echoes several times in his ears.

He feels a hand gently pull his arm away from his face, and suddenly he's aware of an ice pack on his forehead. He turns his head the other way, still wincing in pain as every movement only intensifies the throbbing in his skull. Dustin sits beside him to his right, he realizes and in the back of his mind - the part that is still waking up - is trying to piece together where they all are right now.

Dustin smiles down at him.

"Hey, buddy..." he coos softly. "shh, shhh, shhh."

Steve tried to make sense of his surroundings and Dustin's words. His voice was echoing over his shushing and Steve tries desperately to listen.

"It's okay. You put up a good fight," a fight? Billy, he remembers. "He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You're okay, you're okay."

Steve grasps limply for the ice pack and takes it from Dustin as he tries to find his bearings. He hears another voice echo in his ears, still overlapping itself as his senses adjust.

"Okay, you're gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai."

It was Lucas. He was in the front seat. Wait, the front seat? It finally registers that he is in a car, but who the hell was driving?

Sluggishly, his head turns to the front seat, and who he finds only confuses him even more. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Hell, he sure hoped he was.

"Whas' goin on?" He slurs.

Max gripped the wheel nervously, she sits up a bit straighter than normal to see across the dashboard. Upon hearing his voice, she spares a moment to glance over her shoulder and studies his reaction.

"Oh, my god!" It comes out in a frightened chuckle and he begins shifting around.

"Steve," Dustin eases. "Just relax. She's driven before."

"Yeah, in a parking lot." Mike retorts in his other ear.

"That counts." Lucas defends.

"They were going to leave you behind," Dustin says irritably.

Steve is not listening to their jabber, the panic far too overwhelming. He's still shifting in his seat, unable to stop his squirming as he tries to process not only his current situation but the memories that continue to come flooding back from before he blacked out.

"Oh, my god."

"I promised that you'd be cool, okay?" Dustin says, trying again to soothe the young man.

"Oh, my god! Woah, woah, woah, woah. What's going on?"

Desperately he grasps at the shoulders of the two front seats as the car rapidly picks up speed. Max's foot presses harder on the small cardboard box on the gas pedal. The engine grows louder, and so do Steve's horrified screams.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah! NO! WHOA! StOp the car! SLOW down!"

"I told you he'd freak out," Mike snarls at Dustin.

"Stop the car~!"

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Max roars. "I'm trying to focus!"

Lucas about jumps in his seat, his eyes grow wide and frantically he points just up ahead.

"Oh, wait, that's Mount Sinai! Make a left!"

"What?"

"Make. A. Left!"

"Shit" she mutters, jerking the wheel to the side.

The car hits a mailbox as it swerves to the other side of the road. Using the momentum, the car lurches to right as it swings a sharp left. Screams fill the car, and a tearful Steve clamors after Dustin. But eventually, the car redirects itself and they disappear down the road.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Three figures are sat around the still unconscious figure of Will, each of them already drenched with sweat. Much like themselves, hair clings to Will's forehead, and his clothes hold many dark stains of sweat. The temperature inside the cabin quickly began to climb thanks to the many space heaters and the full fireplace. Y/n sat waiting in the other room, her hands interwoven as she wrung them together.

Y/n feared things would escalate had she been one of the first people "Will" had seen. It was obvious the Mind Flayer was most threatened by her, hence her presence in what she could only guess to be El's bedroom.

She was going to wait. Only a bit longer. Not only was her strength still returning but she knew it would be a long and difficult process. She wanted to save her energy for when she needed it most. As it would seem, the wait would not be lasting much longer. Everyone's heads were picked up from the ground at the sound of a small gasp.

Her head whipped to the door, keeping her ears peeled. Will was definitely awake, she could hear his heavy breathing and she jumped to her feet nervously.

How would she do this?

Could she do this?

She only had so much practice.

Joyce's offer returns to mind, and immediately she dismisses the option of opting out. Y/n intended to keep her word, and her best friend.

Her motives are only confirmed when she hears Will begin to panic. It's not Will, she reminds herself.

But even that still manages to feel like a lie.

"What's happening?" She hears him pant fearfully. "It hurts."

Y/n hears shuffling, and she can picture him fighting against the restraints. Her mouth runs dry, and her throat sore as she hears the desperate and fearful cries of Will.

She knew this would not be easy, using her powers to this extent. But Y/n had been so worried about that, she forgot how painful it was to hear him in pain. And now she was going to be the one inflicting it.

"It hurts!" He screeches. "It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

At his bedside, Jonathan rises to his feet. His eyes widen at the sight of his little brother, and all pain he had felt previously inside the shed at home, was dwarfed in comparison to what he saw now before him. Jonathan's hand clasps tightly around his mother's.

Will was writhing on the bed, his face contorted in a terrified expression.

"Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!"

Now as Joyce stares at her son, he's more Mind Flayer than Will. Anger rises in her chest as she thinks of all the things this monster was ripping from her. All that he had ripped from her already.

What little happiness, peace, and sense of mind she had managed to scrape together after the prior year.

And it had already taken Bob. She wouldn't let him take Will too. With a determined glare, she throws her head over her shoulder at El's door calling out in a growl.

"It's time!"

Will's attention flies to the door, and for a moment, whips frantically between it and his mother confused. But his limbs still move, and he does not stop screaming.

"What's going on?! What's going on?! What's going on?!"

The lights flicker as they did in the shed, and when his eyes fall on the doorframe, every ounce of panic inside is multiplied and his struggle only intensifies.

"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

Y/n steps into view, her face hardened, fists clenched and chest heaving in shallow, nervous breaths. Her eyes are locked on Will and already, two or three spidery veins begin to appear around her eyes. They're faint, and hard to see without the thick layer of sweat illuminating her s/c skin and accentuating the usual faint bumps and indents of her strain.

"GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

She has joined Joyce's side, unaware heat has already begun radiating off of her tightly clenched fists. Her eyes are locked on Will's, and the closer she gets the more frantic he becomes.

The more frantic the Mind Flayer becomes.

The lights continue to flicker, and her breathing grows more shallow. Shakily, one hand rises out and her hardened expression cracks when Will's eyes go wide. His legs kick even faster, and using the restraints around his wrists he tries to pull himself as far away as he can from her.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! NO! NO! ENOUGH! STOP IT!"

Y/n hesitates, only briefly to lock eyes with the others and her gaze lands on Joyce. Joyce's lip is curled up in a furious pout, and she nods determined, giving the okay. Y/n turns her head to look back at Will, shuffling on her feet only briefly, and out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Joyce crank up the heat on the space heaters.

"Mom," Jonathan whimpers.

Jonathan looks on in terror at Will's reaction as Joyce circles the room, reaching every heater. She calls out in protest, shouting out encouragement to Y/n. His unease and pain grows with every second until he can no longer bear it. He whirls around on his heel and into Nancy's arms. Sobs rack his body as he weeps into Nancy's shoulder. She is crying too, an equally disturbed look fixed on her face as she cradles Jonathan close.

Y/n, all the while, takes a deep breath, trying desperately to tune out his horrifying screams and her eyes flutter closed. And while it wounds her greatly to do so, she lets the sound of his pain fuel her anger and in no time she feels the heat coursing through her veins and into her fingertips.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The vicious roar of an engine booms across Merrill's Pumpkin Farm followed by the crunching of wood. The tires of Billy's hijacked car barrels over the welcome sign leaving it in pieces. After many moments, the car comes to a screeching halt when Max finds them at the large hole that had been dug.

The sudden halt throws each body forward, and a rather petrified Steve rockets back into his seat.

"WOAH HELlo!"

A large puff of air inflates his cheeks, enunciating - and hurting - his crooked nose.

Gasps of surprise and awe ripple throughout the car, including Mike.

"Incredible," he breathes.

"Told you." Her gaze remains fixed ahead, but she quirks a brow and rips the keys from the ignition. "Zoomer."

The party wastes no time climbing out, and heads straight for the trunk where they had placed their many supplies. Steve, meanwhile, kicks and squirms in the backseat not unlike a ladybug stuck on his back as he tries to find his balance. He was still horribly woozy but given the unfolding events with the unruly kids he had no choice. His hands find the edge of the car and he pulls himself out, his legs unable to catch him in time. His hands and knees find the ground and it knocks a groan loose.

As Steve pulls himself up on his feet, he looks on in worry at what he sees them doing. A variety of bandanas and goggles are pulled from the trunk and wrapped around their faces.

"Guys," he slurs, draping himself against the door and car. "Oh, no. Guys,"

His swollen eyes widen a bit when he sees a now completely masked Mike struts around to the front of the car with the canister and some rope.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

He neglects to answer, infuriating Steve even more and kneels before the front bumper.

"What are you, deaf? Hello?"

Max is the next to follow suit, once again engaging the panicking babysitter.

"We are not going down there right now," he orders, his pointing finger once again plummeting towards the ground. "I made myself clear!"

Max heads for the pit, and Mike fastens the rope to the car.

"Hey, there's no chance we're going to that hole, all right?!"

Lucas walks past him without a word or a glance in his direction and joins the others. Steve stumbles to the trunk where only Dustin remains, ripping what few things he holds and chucks them back into the trunk.

"Steve!" Dustin calls, tugging swiftly on Steve's sleeve to keep him from chasing after them. "you're upset, I get it. But the bottom line,"

One by one, with Mike in lead and rope in hand, the party marches to the bottom of the pit where the hole resides.

"a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe."

He reaches into the truck, pulling out Steve's backpack he had brought with him to the junkyard, complete with the spiked bat sticking out from the pouch. Dustin thrusts the backpack forward for Steve to take.

"So, keep us safe."

Steve glares at the kid, shaking his head with great distaste when a great sigh escapes.

He was cornered.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The drop is not as far as Steve had anticipated, but it still manages to take his breath away by the time he gets to the bottom. His mouth sits agape behind his new makeshift mask as he takes in the unusual setting he finds himself in. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

When the others had spoken of tunnels beneath Hawkins, he had a hard time picturing anything but a tightly packed space. With walls compacted of damp earth littered with the towns undergrowth that smelled of dirt. He certainly had not expected a vast shaft the size of an average hallway. Instead of dirt, all one could see was a wall woven out of hundreds of vines of varying sizes under a thick coat of slime. And as the beam of Dustin's flashlight dances in the air, Steve understands why the need for goggles and masks.

The air was heavier down there, and not in the sense that there was less of it seeing as they were underground. But it seemed... otherworldly. Everything felt heavier, even the gravity oddly enough. Steve was also quick to catch on to the thousands of little flakes that hung in the air around him.

The end of Mike's flashlight lands on the crudely drawn map of tunnels they had procured in their limited time.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's this way." His words are slightly muffled from his mask, and his flashlights shift down one end of the tunnel.

"You're pretty sure, or you're certain?" Dustin asks.

"I'm one hundred percent sure," Mike yells, whirling around. "Just follow me and you'll know."

Mike turns back around to start the journey, only to halt in tracks when Steve begins yelling at him.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey, hey," Protests Steve, walking up to the boy.

Mike throws his arms out in frustration despite his full hands. "What?"

"I don't think so. Any of you little shits die down here, I'm gettin' the blame. Got it, dipshit?"

He rips the map out from Mike's grasp and turns to the others. "From here on out, I'm leading the way. Come on, let's go."

One by one like ducklings, they fall in line behind Steve and they disappear deep with tunnels.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Two sets of feet scurry through the halls of Hawkins lab, their steps light and quick. Hopper and El now find themselves in one of many stairwells, and Hopper remains in the lead, gun drawn. What they find does not ease their already troubled minds. A trail of blood paints the railing and floors, continuing around the corner and down the stairs. Their trip through the hallways has already been littered with dead bodies around every corner. The carnage left over from what the Demodogs didn't finish. But this looked more like a crime scene than an animal attack.

And Hopper had a sneaking suspicion the person responsible was nearby and near-death if they weren't already gone.

"Stay here," he orders softly.

The poor kid had already seen enough. He had better scope it out, he figures. Especially if one of those dogs was still around. Softly he descends the first set of steps, his grip growing tighter around the gun as he inches around the corner. The tension melts away altogether at what he sees on the next landing.

"Oh, shit," he gasps, immediately descending the stairs.

He discards the gun off his back as he kneels to the floor beside a dying Dr. Owens. "Hey, Doc,"

The man sits propped up against the wall, his face drained of color and he is stained with blood. On his chest, is a sizable gouge that has turned a portion of his white shirt crimson, and one pant leg is ripped open to reveal a tremendous gash on his lower thigh.

Hopper sighs as he examines the man's wounds. "Those suckers got you pretty good, huh?"

Weakly, the doctor begins to gesture through a pained look on his face, and he tries to speak through shallow breaths. Hopper shakes his head and pats the man's uninjured shoulder.

"It's okay, don't talk. Don't talk. I got you, I got you, I got you," he reassures.

The man had already lost too much blood and was only loosing more with every second. Hopper had to act fast, and he knew the quickest way to slow the bleeding was to cut off circulation. Quickly, Hopper undid his belt and began fastening it just above the wound.

He hesitated only once, and quite briefly when he saw a funny look cross Owens's face. He glances over his shoulder to see El had joined them and was now quietly observing. Hopper returns to his work.

"Oh, yeah," he grunts, looping the belt around the man's leg once more. "I've been meaning to tell ya'. This is Eleven. Eleven, Doc Owens. Doc Owens, Eleven."

He can't believe his eyes as she stands before him, one of two missing pieces at the very center of the conspiracy he had been tasked with protecting. He had heard of her of course, and Brenner, and the other kid the madman was obsessed with getting his hands on. But it was strange knowing - seeing - the proof staring him in the eye.

He doesn't blame her as she stares at him wearily, in truth her heart is pounding being so close to him. Another labcoat from this place was the last person she would trust. Yet she lingered, only because Hopper seemed to trust this guy. Somewhat it seemed.

"She's been staying with me for about a year," Hopper continues. "and she's about to save our asses."

His eyes land on Owens, and he makes sure the man knows it. His expression hardens.

"And maybe when all this is said and done, maybe you can help her out, too, you know? Maybe you could help her lead, like, a normal life."

Owens listens, his breathing still slow and shallow and his eyes return to the young girl watching intently. She's studying him with an unreadable expression, and it suddenly sinks in all the things she was capable of doing. But so do Hopper's next words.

"One where she's not poked and prodded and treated like some kind of lab rat, you know?"

"I don't know," A protective and hostile glare is sent Owens way in the form of a greatly exaggerated sarcastic smile. "just a thought."

He yanks the belt tight assuring the man understood his threat. He flinches in pain and lets out a small groan. Once the belt is tied, his right hand comes to rest on Owens' shoulder and gives it a harsh squeeze.

"But, uh..." Hopper throws one last spiteful, and knowing look at him. Reminding the man silently of all she was risking by doing this. "think about it."

He doesn't let go until Owens nods feverishly, and his expression softens when he detects sincerity in the man's eyes. Hopper reaches for his holster and pulls out his revolver.

"Don't go anywhere," he says, handing the man his gun.

Owens' chuckles weakly at the man's words and winces immediately in pain. But he nods nonetheless and Hopper rises to his feet knowing he has done all he can for the time being. El's soft and widened eyes meet with his briefly, and the two disappear down the stairs.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Their journey to the hub was a tense and dubious one, and it was far too easy to doubt one's sense of direction. It was a maze, with danger lurking around every corner. Consciously, they knew the Demodogs were called to the lab and would most likely remain there to protect the gate. But that didn't encourage a single one of them to let their guard down. After a while, when hope had just begun to dwindle, the tunnels began to blend together and they knew instantly they were close.

None of them were prepared for what they saw next.

"God," Lucas gasps.

Surrounding them were several engorged, purple spores that spit more flakes into the air around them.

"What is this place?" Max wondered aloud.

"Guys, come on." Steve orders, marching on. "Keep moving."

The party obeys, happy to get the task over. All except the last party member who lingers at the back. Dustin reaches the small alcove last as his friends continue on, his attention captured by one of many pods on the ceiling. Completely perplexed, he finds himself fixed on the odd plant as it begins to breathe.

"What the hell?" His mouth hangs open behind his mask in a small gasp.

The pod continues to grow in size while simultaneously shrinking in on itself. In seconds, it spews a fresh batch of spores directly into the boy's face, sending him into a panic. He collapses to the mucky ground in a screaming fit, and he writhes around for a moment as he tries to stumble to his feet. Finally, he finds his footing and runs after the others screaming and sputtering.

"Help! Help! Help!"

"Dustin!" Mike cries out.

The others have already turned around and made their way to him at fast as they can. All the while, Dustin sprints across the alcove before his face plants in the ground when his foot snags on a vine.

"Dustin!"

"Dustin?!"

They scramble around him, trying to get a good look at him to find out what went wrong when Steve roughly shoves them aside to check on the boy.

"What happened? What happened?!"

Dustin is now doubled over on his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering as high pitched screeches tumble out of his mouth.

"It's in my mouth! Some got in my mouth!" He takes a deep breath. "SHIIIIIIIT!"

The others watch as more coughs shake his body, and quickly he begins spitting in a desperate manner. Finally, he begins to calm and that is when he feels all eyes still watching him. He looks up at them slowly, panting as he comes down from his panic attack.

"I'm okay," he says softly.

Everyone lets out a sigh, both overwhelmingly relieved and frustrated. They do not skimp put on giving him a quick scolding.

"You serious?" Max hisses.

"Very funny, man," Steve grumbles, standing up and resuming the journey. "Nice. Very nice."

"Jesus. What an idiot."

The party follows after Steve in a buzz of anger and Dustin scrambles to his feet in fear of being left behind. "Hang on, wait. Wait!"

The journey does not last long after, for within minutes they find themselves at the entrance of an even larger opening. They at once know this is the place they came for when they gaze upon the cavern they now find themselves at the edge of.

"Alright, Wheeler," Steve clicks his tongue as the others pool around at his side, gawking at the scene. "I think we found your hub."

Stretched out before them was a vast area roughly the size of the Byers kitchen and dining room combined. It was quite spacious. The ceiling had doubled in height and arched into the center to form a dome. Giant, purple spores identical to the one Dustin had encountered dotted the ceiling. And just as the map had predicted, multiple pathways connected all around them.

"Let's drench it," Mike orders.

The team sets to work divvied up amongst the hub. Each of them carries their source of fuel for the fire they had brought along with them. The stench of mold and decay was quickly buried under the gallons of lighter fluid they began dispersing. Lucas - who had been smart enough to snatch up the pesticide sprayer back at the house - covered the ceiling whiles the others secured the walls and ground around them.

Not a drop was left over.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Pain ripped from Y/n's throat in the form of a strenuous battle cry. Bursting forth from her palms were great billowy waves of heat, veins began to spread to her cheeks and jaw. Her cries end only to gasp for air. Her chest begins heaving at an alarming rate as her lungs swallow as much oxygen as they can take. A whimper breaks out though it is hard to be heard over Will's terrifying screeches.

Jonathan's hand around Nancy grows tighter, and he turns to her still fearfully. "It's not working."

He shifts attention to his mother. "It's not working! Mom, are you listening to me? It's not working!"

"Just wait!"

Y/n cries out once more, it has lost most of its anger and it sounded more wounded than anything. Jonathan's eyes fly back to her before hardening at his mother.

"We can't! Look...! Look at him!" He sputters, storming his mother's side. "Look at her! You're killing them! Y/n, stop. That's enough!"

"Jonathan, wait!"

Ignoring his mother, he calls after the girl as he marches for the heater ready to turn it off. His mother pries him away from the heater, but he does not go down without a fight. His mouth parts to argue, but Y/n quickly recaptures everyone's attention.

A grunt brews in her stomach and erupts from her chest. She shakes her head, her attention never leaving Will.

"N-no! I..." she whimpers again, and she feels her cracked and dried lips dampen with blood that dripped from her nose. "I can... do it!"

"Y/n, no!"

Will's head whips to his side in and urgent and unnaturally rigid manner, his now completely back eyes zero in on Jonathan.

"GET HER AWAY! GET HER AWAY! GET HER AWAY!" Jonathan's eyes double in size at the horrific sight, and what he says next is enough to paralyze him. "KILL HER! KILL HER!"

His head never moved, but his body never stopped. His fighting grew more intense and forceful, now breaking away at his skin as his wrists and ankles began to bleed.

"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"

The words buy a single moment's worth of shocked hesitation among the others, all apart from Y/n. She still had one more thing to try, and she knew she had to act fast. While the Mind Flayer's attention was diverted she had slipped to the other side of his bed, and reached for his arm.

The skin of her heated palm nearly made contact with his, but before it could she heard a snap, and she was out on the floor less than a second later.

"Y/n!"

"Will, no!"

Will's left hand had broken free from its restraint, sent flying through the air and into her face. His knuckles burrowed into the side of her head, throwing her back with a surprising amount of force. On her way down, a horrible screech left her throat that was soon cut short with a dull thud when her skull hit the cast iron fireplace knocking her out.

In the immediate moments that followed, they saw Will throw himself to the side of the bed. Joyce lunged after him, fearing he was trying to pry himself free from his other restraints, but to her horror she found his nails raking into Y/n's face, repeatedly.

"Will, stop! STOP! NO!"

Joyce and Nancy both run to the girl's aid as quick as they can. Joyce jumps at her son to restrain him while Nancy manages to drag the unconscious girl out and around the bed, safe from the Mind Flayer's reach. Joyce fights hard against her struggling son as he tries to reach after Y/n, but quickly his attention snaps to his mother. He whirls on her in seconds, his free arm shooting up at her and his now bloodied hand clamps tightly around her throat. Her hands fly to his wrists, now pawing at him as she tries to pry herself free from his grip.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The deeper they venture into Hawkins Lab, the closer they get to the heart of it all; the gate. Already, the familiar spores of the Upside Down have leaked into the atmosphere, the air cold and stiff. Hopper's flashlight journey's down the hall, finding the end marked by the two giant elevator doors. The very same himself and Joyce had entered the previous year to find Will.

What they heard next only confirmed the gate was just around the corner. It was the horrific howls of the Demodogs, and they were closer than ever as their shrill echoes bounced down the barren tiled hall.

"Stay here," Hopper repeats.

El stands rigid with her eyes fixed on the hall ahead, the closer she got the more vivid the memories grew. She watches studiously, not daring for a second to take her eyes off of Hopper as peers around the corner. Even if he did have the gun, even if he did tell her he would take care of them for her. That he was there to protect her, she'd knew now she'd never stop looking out for him.

Hopper's attention never strays as he slowly inches forward towards the lab. Just hours ago he had been in this very room when they broke through. As far as he could tell at that moment, the entry was clear but he knew the room itself was far from that. When he approaches the door - his footsteps still light and silent - he takes cover in the corner up against the door. He pulls his large pocket knife from his pocket, unfolding it, and slowly brings it into view.

Sure enough, in the slim and shaky reflection he spots several dozen Demodogs, all packed around the entrance to the gate.

They were guarding it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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||3rd Person POV||

Scattered amongst the Byers house, the group of survivors mill about, processing the newest development as a whole. The party occupies the dining table, aside from Y/n who has positioned herself on the floor by the end of the couch where her best friend and crush lay unconscious. She sits with her legs folded beneath her, and her body leaning against the arm of the couch, happy to be sitting down and letting her legs and feet properly rest for the first time all day. It didn't help her exhaustion much either that she was still processing the information that Hopper had given them on the drive over.

Her last conversation with Will runs over in her mind, and despite the taste of pain and rejection it leaves on her tongue, a strong pull in her gut tells her to be patient. It isn't really him. And more than anything, she knows she can't leave him again. Something deep inside her told her to be nearby.

Jonathan is beside her, kneeling at Will's side with one hand on his brother's arm and the other kindly stroking the hair away from Will's paled and clammy face. Nancy stands just to the side, a comforting hand on his shoulder and a pained look on her face. She can't help but feel a deep sympathetic ache in her heart, not only for the poor young boy caught in the middle of such a tremendous disaster but the visible toll it puts on his loved ones.

"Hey," Jonathan croaks to his unconscious brother. "Hey there, it's me. I'm sorry, bud. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should have been here."

Y/n's watery e/c eyes move to Jonathan and she feels a large spike through her heart at his words. While she does not entirely understand where the two teenagers were during the past few days, she doesn't need to know for her to feel the weight of his words on her heart. She knows all too well the feeling, the overwhelming guilt, and regret that she hadn't stayed with him.

She should have known, or at the very least she should have come back. And had she never left, would she ever have had her trip with El? Once again she has to correct herself on her friend's name, Jane is what she went by now. Either way, the question brought too many unwanted scenarios flooding her mind, so she casts away the thoughts, focusing on the moment. Instead, Y/n's attention drifts to the Chief's agitated voice as he stomps anxiously back and forth, gripping the telephone.

"Sam Owens. Dr. Sam Owens,"

There's another beat of silence apart from the muffled and garbled voice on the other end.

"I don't know how many people are there," Hopper snaps. "I don't know how many people are left alive!"

A strained sigh leaves Steve's lungs and he folds his arms over his chest, continuing his pacing in the kitchen.

"I am the police!" The man barks back into the phone. "Chief Jim Hopper!"

Y/n's head lifts sluggishly off the arm of the couch, and she watches glumly as he tries to contact help. Though deep down she knows they are alone. He scoffs, shuffling back to the wall where the phone was mounted.

"Yes, the number that I gave you, yes... 6767... I will be here,"

Hopper slams the phone back onto the hook, and the shrill 'ding' of the phone fades out in the air. Dustin meets the man's eye, thinking the same thing as his sister.

"They didn't believe you, did they?"

"We'll see."

"'We'll see'?" Mike retorts. "We can't just sit here while those things are loose!"

"We stay here, and we wait for help," Hopper growled, his voice low. Hopper does not give Mike another chance to speak and he stalks off down the hall. Upon arrival, he had taken a headcount, and it didn't take long for him to realize they were now one head short. His instincts correctly lead him to the end of the hall, and he stops at the only closed door. Her door.

He knocks softly, and unsurprisingly, he receives no answer. Tentatively, he opens it, and it parts with a defining creak. His shoulders slump sadly at the sight of her, she sits on the end of her bed, draped in a knitted blanket and is staring numbly at the floor.

With a heavy heart, he lumbers across the room and takes a seat on the floor in front of her. He grunts softly as he settles in against the wooden dresser that presses into his spine. But he does not move, nor does he say a single word. He knows that there is nothing he can say to her that will fix anything, cause he knows, Hawkins lost a good man today.

His heart breaks for her as a weak and tired sob shakes her body. All he can do for her is be there, and as he does so he too can feel the tremendous loss Bob had left with them.

It was a loss that touched everyone that night. Once Hopper had ended the phone call and disappeared down the hall, not a single person spoke. The entire house was bathed in a heavy silence that weighed down their hearts and dimmed all hope. Not so much the loss of a good man, but the crushing reality of the situation they all now face. No matter the terrors that Will and the others had faced the previous year, as horrible as they were, were dwarfed in comparison to the grim truth.

No one was safe now.

Mike tore his eyes away from the table he sat at, his mind playing back the short amount of time he had spent with Bob. His eyes were pulled along the walls as they traced the puzzle of tunnels the man had helped them solve just hours ago. His eyes took him across the room to one of many locations they had mapped out, the Eno River that ran just past Y/n by the couch. His gaze halted when he saw her, she was now at Will's side, still slumped over with her weight against the couch and her eyes numbly grazing over Will, making sure he was okay.

He tried his hardest to brush away the ache in his chest as he saw the way she looked at Will. Not out of jealously for her or her affection, but it reminded him all too well of the night he last saw El. Just before she vanished with the Demogorgan, when he stayed by her side, hiding her away from the danger for as long as he could. The look on Y/n's face, the worry her eyes held, and her loyalty to the one she cared so deeply for was not something foreign to Mike.

It was an expression he wore several times in the week El had been apart of his life. And it was the overall fear and dedication he felt towards her when the bad men almost got her. How ill she had become, the turmoil and strain that she had been subjected to her entire life, and then some just to save him. The longing he felt just for her to be okay. And it was this longing he saw between Y/n and Will, and now more than ever he wished El was with him. She would understand.

Finally, Mike looks away, unable to dwell on the sight much longer. That's when he spots the forgotten pile of puzzles Bob had brought for Will. He feels another painful prick of sadness at the sight; the remains of one of countless good gestures.

He rises to his feet and trudges towards the pile of puzzles, limply picking up the blue plastic Soma cube. A sullen look crosses his face as he stares at it, thinking back to the conversation from the previous day.

"Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?"

Lucas picks up his head, as does the rest of the founding Party. "Really?"

"He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fund-raiser for equipment." He looked to Dustin, in particular. "Mr. Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?"

Choruses of agreement rippled through the party, and Mike returned to the table with the puzzle in hand.

"We can't let him die in vain."

Y/n's gaze breaks away from Mike and her friends, returning one last time to Will's sleeping form. She rises to stand on her knees, keeping one ear on the conversation as she hesitates to leave.

"Well, what do you want to do, Mike?" Dustin asks pointedly. "The Chief's right on this."

Y/n's hand falls on Will's hand out of reflex, signaling to him with a single squeeze that she had to leave, but she'd be nearby. He does not react immediately in his unconscious state, but his hand under hers begins to twitch, trying to pull away. She frowns at this, a strong sense of déjà vu washing over her though this time she does not jump back. Instead, she pulls her hand away, and rises to her feet, a spark of interest in her eyes as pieces begin to fall into place.

"We can't stop those Demodogs on our own." Dustin finishes.

"Demodogs?" Max asked, less than impressed.

Dustin looks around at his friends expectantly, disappointed in their lack of enthusiasm for the nickname. A look that was not lost even on his own sister that had joined the table, standing next to Mike.

"Demogorgan, dogs," he explained with both hands, pushing them together so his palms met. "Demodogs. It's like a compound. A play on words-"

"Okay," Max conceded.

"I mean, when it was just Dart, totally," He gestured to Y/n briefly. "But there's an army now. We don't stand a chance, not even with Y/n."

The group, including Steve, nods in agreement, aside from Mike whose brow molded into a confused frown. "Wait, say that again?"

Y/n was once again reminded of the secret she was forced to harbor, and winces involuntarily knowing she has to avoid telling him. Quickly, her mind jumps to Darts escape only days ago.

"Remember what happened when Dart got loose? What I accidentally did?" She asks, breaking her silence since her arrival.

His mind flashes to that day, a flicker of confusion contorts his face before it settles on a look of intrigue. "You mean, that weird thing you did with your hands?"

A dry laugh leaves her throat and she nods. "Yeah, you could say that. Point is, I've... gotten some practice at it."

"Yeah, man," Lucas cuts in, fighting back an impressed smile. "You should have seen it, she fought off a couple of those things,"

"Demodogs," Dustin mumbled, earning an annoyed glare from his friend. "Whatever man, it doesn't matter. What matters is how we defeat an entire army of... Demodogs."

"His army," Mike mumbles, something clicking in his mind.

"Huh?" Y/n asks.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, pushing himself off the fridge he was previously leaning on.

Mike meets the older boys' eye, excitement growing in his demeanor as it all began to fall into place.

"His army," Mike repeats, raising several brows. "Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too."

Without a word, he turns and marches down the hall towards Will's room; the last place he saw the drawing. The rest curiously follow, and Mike thrusts the drawing into Dustin's hands, the others circle him to catch a glimpse. An icy chill runs down Y/n's spine when she recognizes the drawing from her last visit.

"The shadow monster," Dustin murmurs.

Mike nods. "It got Will that day on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, and it infected him."

Max nods along, her brows knitted together in thought. "And so this virus, it's what's connecting him to the tunnels?"

"To the tunnels, to the monsters, to the Upside Down, to everything."

"'Kay, woah, woah, woah," Steve urges, taking the paper from Dustin to examine it. "Slow down, slow down,"

"Okay, so, the shadow monster's inside Will," Mike explains. "And if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will."

"And so does Dart," Lucas adds.

"Yeah, it's like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive mind."

"Hive mind?" Steve asks.

"It's some sort of collective conscious," Y/n answers.

Dustin nods eagerly, finishing her thought. "Basically, it's this super-organism."

"And this is the thing that controls everything," Mike says, pointing to the monster in Will's drawing. "It's the brain."

Dustin becomes entranced at the creature, his eyes stretching wide as he recalls something. "Like the Mind Flayer,"

Lucas snaps his fingers suddenly, his eyes widening as large as Dustins and they share a knowing fearful look. A grave look befalls the original members of the party, recognizing the evil creature they had fought on so few campaigns. It was damn hard to fight, and near impossible to defeat with no casualties. It was their greatest challenge.

Steve and Max wear a similar frown, speaking simultaneously, completely lost. "What?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will's D&D handbook is thrown into the center of the kitchen table, creating a loud 'thwack' as the hardcover meets the surface. In the center of the pages is an illustration of the cloaked figure with an angled head. It had large beady eyes and where the mouth should be, were several long tentacles, not unlike Will's drawing.

"The Mind Flayer,"

Dustin looks around the table, addressing the group. Everyone was now gathered together in the kitchen, aside from Joyce.

"The hell is that?" Hopper asked tiredly.

"It's a monster from an unknown dimension. It's so ancient that it doesn't even know it's true home. Okay, it enslaves races from other dimensions by taking over their brain with its highly developed psionic powers."

The Chief lets out a heavy sigh.

"Oh my god," he grumbles, gesturing to the open book on the table. "This isn't real, this is a kids game."

"N-No, it-it's a manual," Dustin defends. "And it's not pretend. And unless you know something we don't, this is the best metaphor."

"Analogy," Lucas corrects.

"Analogy?" Dustin fires back. "That's what you're worried about right now?"

"Hypocrite," Y/n mumbles.

"-Okay, fine! It's an analogy for understanding whatever the hell this thing is." Dustin continues, unware of his sister's criticism.

Nancy shakes her head from beside Dustin, dismissing the argument and she leans down to examine the book.

"Okay, okay, so this Mind Flamer thing--"

"-Flayer. Mind Flayer." Dustin corrects irritably.

Nancy wears a similar expression and fights an eye roll as she moves on.

"-What does it want?"

"To conquer us, basically. It believes it's the master race."

"Oh, uh," Steve motions for the lost word on his tongue as he makes a connection. "Like, uh, like the Germans!"

Steve receives a room full of vexed expressions. To his right, Dustin looks at him blind-sighted.

"Uh, the Nazis?"

Embarrassed, Steve nods. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, the Nazis."

"Uh, if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally."

Unbeknownst to the rest of the circle, Hopper turns away in disbelief and overwhelmed with great annoyance. He sighs, beginning to rub his eyes, completely exasperated as Dustin continues.

"Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself."

"It wants to spread and take over other dimensions," Mike adds.

Y/n looks around the table, specifically at those unfamiliar with the beast. "And it won't stop until it gets exactly what it wants, it's relentless."

Lucas nods. "We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it."

"That's great," Steve sighs, turning away to pace as he continues mumbling to himself. "that's great, that's really great. Jesus!"

Nancy leans forward once more to examine the page, before picking up the manual. "Okay, so, if this thing is like, a brain that's controlling everything, then if we kill it-"

"We kill everything it controls." Mike finishes.

"We win," Dustin nods.

"Theoretically," Lucas reminds them.

Hopper steps forward, taking the book from Nancy, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Great, so how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?"

Dustin suppresses a laugh and shakes his head. "No. No, no fire-- No fireballs. Uh, you summon an undead army, uh-"

Dustin's excited demeanor falters when he sees the Chief's agitated gaze, and instead stutters through.

"because- uh, because the zombies... you know, uh, don't have brains, an-and the Mind Flayer, it uh, it... likes brains."

Hopper has already closed the book, and Nancy only dawns a perplexed look. Trying to ease the Chief's temper, he shakes his head and shrugs it off.

"It's just a game," Dustin shrugs, meekly.

THUD

Hopper threw the book back down on the table in his anger, turning away.

"The hell are we doing here?" He grumbles to himself.

"I thought we were waiting for your military backup?" He calls after him.

"We are!"

"Even if they come, how are they gonna stop this?" Mike points out. "You can't just shoot this with guns."

"You don't know that! We don't know anything!"

"We know it's already killed everything in that lab-!"

"And we know the monsters are gonna molt again!" Lucas defends.

"And we know that it's only a matter of time before the tunnels spread pass the edge town." Dustin proclaims.

Finally, Y/n jumps in, feeling a swell of confidence. "And we also know that Will is the only host, which means we have to find a way to get the Mind Flayer out of him without killing him. Guns definitely won't accomplish that."

"They're right," a soft broken voice cuts in from the hallway.

Everyone turns to find Joyce, her voice is strained and her eyes are puffy from crying.

"We have to kill it... I want to kill it."

Hopper steps toward her, concerned.

"Me too," Hopper agrees, his voice immediately softer. "Me too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that? We don't exactly know what we're dealing with here.

"No, we don't," Y/n agrees, a hint of hope in her voice. "But he does."

Everyone watches as Y/n returns to the edge of the living room, her gaze fixed on the small boy on the couch. Her e/c eyes grow soft momentarily at what she sees. She knows the Mind Flayer has almost completely taken over, but deep in sleep, all that's left is Will. Her best friend, the boy who always treated her with such kindness. The boy who had invited her in, the boy who had won her a duck at the arcade just cause she admired it in passing. The boy who never wanted to hurt a soul, and would do anything for the ones he cared for.

"If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it's him." She looks over her shoulder at Hopper briefly. "We also know that Will has a connection to it. He sees what it sees, and he knows what it knows. He'll know how to defeat him."

"I thought we couldn't trust him anymore?" Max asks. "That he's a spy for the Mind Flayer?"

Y/n shakes her head thoughtfully.

"Not necessarily," she mumbles, growing more excited as a plan begins to form. "Not if we find a way to confuse the Mind Flayer. He won't be able to spy-"

The same thought crosses Mike's mind and he brightens happily, meeting Y/n's eye. "-if he doesn't know where he is!"

Y/n smiles excitedly and nods.

"Exactly."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Please do not stop fighting for Black Lives! Here is a list of links that I encourage you to explore. As always, links will be in the comments which can be accessed if you are on a computer, OR if you are on mobile, should work so long as you are logged in through the website, not the app. Thank you!

Looking for resources such as books, tv, movies etc to help educate yourself but have limited/none access to obtaining them? Thanks to @ thechekhov   on tumblr for providing such links, there are plenty of other ways to educate ourselves.

1. Netflix released 13th and is now available on YouTube for free!

[link] 2. YouTube also houses plenty of other educational videos. For instance, a 20 minute video on the racial wealth gap

[link] 3. They also recommend googling specifically free anti-racism resources. Podcasts can be one of many such resources. Here is just one such article with a multitude of such resources

[link] HOW TO PROPERLY PROTECT PROTESTORS: I'll still post the link to the video just incase you might need a visual but essentially, it is not enough to blur faces before posting. According to the video, the police do have the tech to unblur and get past this. Instead, download any app that allows you to paste text, specifically emojis, over the picture. Snapchat is a good one. Place the large black square emoji [⬛] over protestors faces AND THEN SCREENSHOT SO IT IS ALL ONE LAYER. Saving as is is not enough as it is still counted as layers. If you post anything from protests make SURE to do this since police are tracking people by photographs and videos.

[link]

Granted, I do not know how credible this is but it is SO worth it to be safe than sorry. I love you guys, and please stay safe 💕💕💕

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad​ @aimee-lucass​ @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa​  @miscellaneoustoasts​ @happyandlonely-blog​ @missmulti​ @youpi-chan​ @peeperparkour​ @ba-responds​ @bibliophilesquared​ @blogforhoes​ @witch-of-all-things-soft​ @shawkneecaps​ @whothefuckstolemykeds​ @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​ @stranger-things4​ @heavenlycat567​ @nightbu-g​ @grapesauze​

||3rd Person POV||

The sharp beep from the monitor in the surveillance room indicates the successful connection to Bob's coms.

"Okay, Bob," Owen gruffed, adjusting his mic. "can you hear us?"

Bob instinctively comes to adjust the earpiece Jim had gathered for him off a fallen lab employee. "Loud and clear, Doc. Can you hear me back?"

"Yeah, we hear you,"

Bob wastes no time getting to work, and the computer comes to life with a low hum.

"Alright, give me a minute,"

He can feel his heart beating sporadically in his chest and the longer time stretches on the more he is certain he is sitting on pins and needles. His fingers fly across the keyboard and although the programming he wishes to see emerges on the screen, to him it could not have taken any longer.

In bright neon green, he is presented with three options;

[1] ALARM SYSTEM

[2] FIRE ALARM SYSTEM

[3] DOOR ACCESS

He feels a small wave of relief knowing he had found the correct systems, and he quickly activities the coms.

"Open sesame," he grins, pushing a single button.

A harsh buzzing sound accompanies a blue light above all exits and entries.

"It's open," Owens breathes, relieved.

Bob continues to open the necessary entryways, including the front gate.

A similar electric buzz catches the attention of the group gathered outside. They watch as the gate slowly but surely slides open, and Dustin straightens, beaming with pride.

"H-Hey!" He chuckles. "I got it! I got it."

Everyone but Dustin - who is still enjoying his moment of pride - gathers around the front of the fence.

Bob cracks a nervous grin. "Easy-peasy."

Hopper does little to fight the impressed smirk molding onto his face. "Son of a bitch did it."

"Right, I'll meet you outside." Bob grins, relieved.

Hastily, he rises from the desk and eagerly makes his way for the exit, gun in hand.

"Nice job," Owens praises, but his hope falters when he hears screeching from another monitor. "Hold on a second, Chief."

"What's wrong?" Hopper asks.

Owens gestures to the monitor that had caught his ear. "West stairwells not clear anymore."

Every face in the surveillance room drops as they make out the gaunt figure slinking down the stairway, navigating the many torn bodies. And looking to make more.

Just at the door, Bob falters, bringing the walkie up to his mouth to speak. "What's going on?"

"We've got some company."

"Where?"

"The west stairwell."

"I got an idea," Bob says, retreating quickly back to the desk.

His fingers fly across the keyboard once more, now with even more urgency if at all possible.

"What the hell's he doing?" Owens mutters.

"Okay," Bob murmurs. "And splash."

The others watch shocked and impressed as the sprinkler systems all along the entire west wing light up. The creatures hiss, uncomfortable, and begin to flee. Owens nods, bemused.

"Okay. Okay, that worked." He says into the coms. "Now get out of there. Go! Go!"

Bob springs out of his seat in a flash eager to follow the man's orders. His mind is racing as fast as his feet, wanting nothing more than to get the heck out of this place. Get Joyce and Will out of here, and just do whatever he needs to do to help. In this hasty state, he grabs the walkie and flees the basement.

And forgetting the handgun he had left on the corner of the desk.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper grabs a still unconscious Will off the desk, getting ready to leave.

"Wait a second, Chief?"

"What?" Hopper pauses, growing anxious.

Owens holds out another walkie. "Take this."

He takes the device, eyes flickering to the man. "What are you doing?"

Owens gives him a somber nod, trying to stay positive. "Any more surprises, I'll let you know. Go. Go!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Joyce and Mike follow closely and quietly on Hopper's heels as he navigates the lab. He has managed to carry Will, slung over his shoulder while still wielding his rifle.

In a mere matter of minutes, the breathtaking sight of the lobby doors are in view, and they scurry for the exit. Joyce is the only one to hesitate, she comes to a skidding halt and anxiously awaits the sight of her boyfriend.

Subconsciously her finger drum against the wall she leans on, and she begins to bounce on the balls of her heels.

"Come on, Bob." She whispers hopefully. "Come on,"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Bob releases a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he reaches the end of the hall. His trip from the basement and back, while only a matter of minutes, had felt to him as several lifetimes. Having finally returned to the main floor, he had already encountered several mutilated bodies that he surely would not be forgetting anytime soon.

"Hey, Bob?" His eyes remain on the hallway before him, but answers in a hushed whisper into the walkie.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna guide you, okay?"

"Is there a problem?" He questions anxiously.

"No, it's just..." his stomach sinks, he recognizes that the man on the other end is choosing his words delicately. "It's, uh, getting a little crowded up here, so we're gonna have to take this slow."

Bob nods to himself, silently gathering as much courage as he can muster. "Okay,"

"All right, just start walking," Owens says gently.

Bob aims the beam of light in his hand at the end of the hall as he begins his journey. He can tell his hands are shaking judging by the state of the light as it bounces in one spot on the wall, and his breathing is sharp and ragged.

"Okay, good," Owens reassures.

He watches the man approach the corner with caution from he sits at the monitors.

"Okay," he eases, eyes trained on the adjoining screen. "now, your next right."

Bob does as he's told, and makes the next turn down a long stretch of hallway. The lights flicker, their pale but harsh light illuminating the new string of bodies lining his path and he winces.

"Now, keep going," he mutters into the mic as encouragingly as he can. "keep going... keep going,"

Bob breaks into a sprint, throwing worried glances behind him, all the while Owens keeping a careful eye on the halls ahead. Though his heart nearly stops when he sees movement in the upcoming hall. He jumps out of his seat in his panic and shouts into the mic.

"Stop!"

Bob nearly loses his balance when he comes to a sudden halt, and shakily, he brings the walkie to his lips, scared to take even take a breath.

"W-what?"

Owens returns to his seat, collecting himself as best as he can though he can't deny the fear building in his stomach. How close Bob was to the end of the hall, to being spotted. It was too close.

"Bob, there's a door on your left, do you see that?"

Bob turns, the beam of light landing on the wooden door.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Yeah, I need you to get in it."

"What?" He asks, frowning at the walkie.

The creature walks further down the hall, flaps on its head beginning to unfurl as it snarls. It's heading straight for Bob.

"Now! Right now. Get in the closet." Owens orders.

Bob scrambles back into the closet, relieved to find it was already ajar, and he winces as he feels his back hit a supply shelf. He is shaking now, and he silently pleas for his lungs to hold their breath a little while longer but they still release short bursts of air without his permission. He clutches the walkie close to his chest and doing so it feels as if it is a lifeline. Bob's eyes closed when he hears the creature approaching around the hall. The door blocks his view but he can still envision it's grotesque features clearly when he hears its low growls.

Fear grips the doctor's heart as well, as his eyes are glued to the screen. Once again noting Bob's close timing as the door shut just as the monster curled around the corner.

Against his better judgment, Bob's eyelids peel open, peeking at the light slinking through from under the door. Four thin strips of darkness pad into view blocking the light and he knows this thing suspects he is there. Its very shadow taunts him, a new shape forming in the light, its head he guessed, as it came to sniff the door.

Not a sound, he thought to himself. Not a sound.

It hisses to itself, frustrated, and stalks off down the hall.

A relieved sigh breaks through, and Bob feels close to choking at how fast he began swallowing air. Droplets of sweat streak down his forehead, and he allows himself to collect his breath. The very same happens to Owens, and he mutters to himself relieved.

"Jesus Christ, okay," he breaths, pressing the mic button once more. "How you holding up there, Bob? You alright?"

His eyes remained trained on the light streaming in from the hallway, still far too worried the thing might return at any sudden sound. But trusting Owen's judgment, he speaks.

"Y-yeah. Yeah,"

"You got a pretty clear shot to the front door."

He nods, trying once more to reassure himself when he realizes the man might not see him.

"Okay," he croaks, attempting to choke back a small sob.

"You can do this, okay?"

He nods once more, now finding it much harder to believe the man's words.

"You're almost home free, alright, Bob?"

Bob thinks about Jim, how he was willing to step up, and do the job no matter how scary. He thought about Will, and getting him to safety and helping the poor kid through whatever the heck this was. And he thought about Joyce, what long and strenuous years she and her boys had been put through when all she deserved was happiness. A stress-free life with her boys, and hopefully, him.

Yeah, he thought. He could do it for her. He would. Thoughts of their last conversation popped into his head;

'Remember, Bob Newby, Superhero,'

He nodded to himself, a hint of confidence returning, and he opened the door.

It was unnaturally quiet, the kind of quiet that amplifies all other sounds you forget are there. That's what it felt like to Bob, at least, apart from the deafening creak of the door but he was careful about that. The hall was empty and quiet once more and only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.

And it caught in his throat just as soon.

He felt something scrape his left arm, and he looked down confused and a spike in his heart rate only for it to stop altogether. Bob watched, frozen in fear as the wooden handle of a mop falls to the floor.

A sharp and resounding 'smack' tore through the silence and he feels as if his stomach had dropped all the way through the floor and back to the basement. His head whips back down the hall and for once, hopeful and desperate moment, he allows himself the possibility that he hadn't been heard. He knows it to be foolish, and it's only confirmed by Owen's terrified voice screaming into his earpiece, telling him the very thing he was telling his legs to do.

"Run!"

They finally listen, and it takes less than seconds for him to be in a full sprint. Without the precious gift of time, he is without Owens's directions and he tries desperately to remember his way to the exit. But with the adrenaline pumping fast through his veins its as if his brain has no room for overthinking. Within several terror-filled moments, he finds himself on the other side of the door, and in the lobby.

Bob pushes the doors closed, ensuring their stability and finally stumbles back, hunching over his knees as he pants for lost breath.

He had made it.

And then the most melodic sound he thought he'd had ever heard, rang like a chime in his ears.

"Bob!" Joyce cried, inching away from the door, her eyes filled with overwhelming relief.

He stood, the warmest of smiles gracing his face as he looked at the woman he loved. She was safe.

The next thing he felt was a harsh thud in his spine and skull as he was thrown to the floor.

Having broken down the doors and tackled him to the ground where it now towered above him, Bob sees the horrific beast in person for the first and last time. His imagination had failed him greatly, nothing was more terrifying to Bob than what was staring back at him at this moment.

Not the mysterious tunnels beneath his town, not even Mr. Baldo. All he knew was fear as he stared death in the face, its haunches in the air, and its faceless head peeled away to reveal several rows of sharp thorny teeth as it pinned the man to the floors.

Joyce jumps back at the sight, her horrified screams blending with his own. The creature towers over Bob, and despite the man's best efforts he cannot quite match the beast's strength. It raises a single lean arm into the air, and in one swift motion its talons glide down to meet his left kidney. As its claws sink further into his sides, a cloud of deep crimson stains his scrubs and a guttural cry of pain tears from deep within his chest.

"No!"

Joyce's cries of anguish alert the chief, who comes in all too late. He draws his rifle, now more in tune with the weapon without a still unconscious Will over his shoulder. But even then, it is far too late when the bullets hit the thing attacking Bob. Life has already begun to drain from the man, and in a matter of seconds, his chest had been torn to shreds.

It tears its eyeless gaze away from its prey, and though it bore no features Hopper felt as if it was mocking him as it roared at him. No sooner were the doors torn from their very hinges and a gathering army of the Upside Down pooled into the lobby. Without a second thought, his gun came to aim at the pack and unloaded a spell of bullets and yet they hardly flinched.

His attention flipped to Joyce and getting her to safety. He turned on his heels, running for the doors and he hooks one arm around her waist as he does so.

"Go!"

"No!" She cries, fighting against his grip, unable to tear her teary eyes away from Bob.

"Go!"

Her legs continue to kick and fight but it does very little as Hopper barely manages to lift her off the ground in his haste. As she is pulled around the corner, her one free arm stretches out after the man who had risked so much.

"Bob!"

The last thing she sees before the scene disappears from her view altogether is Bob's trembling and bloody hand reaching out for her in his remaining moments.

"No!"

The brisk autumn air meets her tear-stained face and it only brings another harsh blow of reality that Bob was left behind. Hopper assures the doors close and remains that way but he also struggles to restrain Joyce.

Mike straightens from his position against the concrete wall, his eyes filling with fear as he struggles to hold Will who has yet to come to.

"What happened?"

"No!" She continues to cry.

"He's gone! He's gone!" Hopper shouts, prying her away from the breaking glass doors.

The pack of monsters had already made after them and were now attacking the glass doors.

The sudden and rapid blaring of a familiar horn tears Mike and Hopper's attention to the street. To their great relief, they spot Jonathan's Ford Galaxy come to a screeching halt at the curb.

His window already rolled down, revealing himself and an equally worried Nancy in the passenger seat, Jonathan beckons them over feverishly.

"Come on! Get in!"

||Reader's POV||

It's become unnaturally silent, all too quickly. I'm surprised Lucas and Dustin haven't already picked a fight, then again, we've all been bickering nonstop since the junkyard. I looked around at my surroundings once more.

We were all trying to bide our time after Jonathan and Nancy left through the gate to scout ahead and investigate. The others, like me, had started pacing within the first few minutes. Aside from Steve. I glanced over to see that sure enough, he was still twirling the flashlight in his hands, leaning against one of the yellow bollards.

My eyes flicker back to the lab for the umpteenth time before returning to Steve, and I try my best to untangle the knots in my stomach.

"You sure they'll be okay by themselves? I mean, with all those," I frown, still a bit blindsided by the change in events. "Darts running around..."

Steve sighs, and throws his head back and blinks, agitating me greatly. His head lazily falls back to meet my eyes and he gestures lazily to the lab.

"Yeah, kid, they'll be fine." He shrugs, returning his attention to his flashlight as he flips it in his hand.

"And even if they aren't, we agreed to go after them if they didn't come back. It's been, what, five minutes?"

"Seven minutes, to be exact," Dustin pipes, looking at his watch.

Steve nods weakly, managing a small eye roll and a sarcastic nod. "Whatever, sure."

I begin nibbling on the inside of my cheek nervously and look back at the lab.

Steve sighs again, but this time he sounds a little conflicted.

"It's not like we could of all fit in that thing." He quips, and for a moment his voice loses its edge. "Look, Henderson, just take a beat and relax a bit. Give em time."

"Yeah, relaxing is not really her thing," Lucas jokes.

I throw a glare his way, but I can't help but laugh dryly. I try to brush it off when my head snaps back to the lab, we all stop and look at one another warily having recognized the faint sounds of gunshots.

The knots in my stomach grow tighter, and I look back at Steve as I raise my brow.

"Still think they'll be fine?"

He steps forward, pushing himself off the bollard and inches towards the gate and stops in front of us.

"I lent them the bat, it's fine." He mutters less than convincingly, gaze still fixed on the lab up ahead.

I wince, unable to shake the image of Nancy three summers ago when we looped her into a game of baseball.

"Yeah, but, I've seen Nancy with a bat..." I ease.

Steve looks down at me, surprised, and I almost catch a glimpse of humor, but it quickly evaporates. He nods, conceding but a lost look of admiration crosses his face.

"Yeah, well, you should see what she does with a gun, though," he mutters.

"Guys, wait," Max mutters, stepping forward. "Do you hear that?"

I stop, going perfectly still as we all do when suddenly I make out a sound in the distance I had previously thought to be several streets behind us. It's then that I realize just years ahead of us, the tree began to light up. The spot of light grew brighter until it turned into a pair of headlights. I realized, it wasn't just Jonathan's car, but the Chief's truck.

My body caught up with my brain just in time for me to jump out of the way, luckily the same could be said for everyone else. I nearly tripped over Max as Jonathan's car sped by, while the Chief's truck came to a grinding halt.

"Let's go!"

None of us faltered, and immediately we all scrambled inside. Steve was once again the last to enter, ensuring none of us got left behind. Once he was inside, he threw one arm out the window and slapped the side of the truck.

"Let's go, let's go!"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As promised, here are a list of resources I encourage you to explore.

Justice in June

This resource was compiled by Autumn Gupta with Bryanna Wallace’s oversight for the purpose of providing a starting place for individuals trying to become better allies.

Want to register to vote but you're not old enough? You just might be old enough to pre-register! This link will lead you to the official list of states and the earliest age at which you can pre/register: [x]

Below will be a link to a masterlist of ways and a variety of resources that help the Black Lives Matter movement, including petitions that are completely free to sign: [x]

And here is a masterlist of black mental health resources. Please know I care about you and I hope that you are getting the resources you need to take good care of yourselves. This might be something you know about and/or have seen already. On the off chance it's not, I hope it can be of use to you: [x]

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