#m!cosmic

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Hugging my jacket tighter around my chest does little to stop the chattering in my teeth thanks to the cold that has already sunk into my bones. Despite all that has happened, I count ourselves lucky the seats El and I picked ended up near the bus's heater. Though at least the lingering chill from outside is keeping me awake and alert.

Trying again to rub the very last of sleep from my eyes, I try even harder to make sense of the sudden change in my surroundings.

I remember drifting off on the futon at Becky's, the next thing I know El is shaking me awake and pulling me down the stairs. All I had time to grab was my jacket, counting myself very lucky I managed to slip on my shoes before we were out the door.

Another shiver hits me like a brick when a bit of cold sneaks down the neck of my jacket. I inwardly groan. I didn't even get to change out of my pajamas.

I tried asking El what was going on and where the hell we were going─not to mention so late at night─but nothing came of it. It was difficult not to ask again, but the look I caught in her eye as we fled the front porch silenced me, if only momentarily. I tried again, when we were halfway down the road.

That time she spoke. And with a breathless voice, a vice-like grip on my hand, and furiously banishing a single tear she thought I hadn't seen. "It's not safe."

So here we find ourselves... Squished into two little purple patterned seats on the first bus we could find. I'm just happy it's not another truck.

I feel a pair of eyes on me and I look cautiously to my side, already knowing what to expect. Several other passengers watch us discreetly─some not so much. A young couple across the isle and two rows back are whispering as they eye us, either heavily concerned or far too judgemental. I'm tired and can't bring myself to care enough to figure it out.

Sadly, however, my self anxieties are still in tact under these stares. I tug my jacket tighter around my torso, my arms staying folded across my stomach. I turn to look at El and I can make out her disheartened reflection watching droplets of rain trickle down the fogged window. I rest my head tiredly on the back of my seat and attempt to break the silence.

"El?" My voice comes out as strangled, but I don't know why.

Her head rolls across the seat to face me and I'm reminded she's just as upset about this sudden uprooting as I am. Likely, of course, even more so. Her brown eyes, normally sparkling, are dulled and sad. Her eyelids sag a little, but she's fighting it well. More than anything, I sense a great deal of it is emotional exhaustion.

A million questions run through my head but I only find myself asking one. "Are you okay?"

She sniffles but gives me no immediate answer. That's when I finally note the small trace of a copper red smear, barely visible at the base of her nose that she had otherwise hastily wiped clean. Blood.

One more look in her eyes and I know; El is debating on whether or not she should lie. Finally, she speaks, and somehow I know she has told me the truth. "No."

I wince at the sound of her broken voice, splintered and forced. I extend my hand, as she did this afternoon. I'm so happy when she takes it. I gave her palm a reassuring squeeze and I look carefully in her eyes.

"El, you know you can tell me anything, right?" I ask, not even completely certain she has something to tell. But I still need her to know this.

Her eyes fall to our hands, and although she tries to hide it, I notice the subtle flutter of her eyes working to blink back tears. Her free and restless hand─which had been fiddling with her clutched bag straps on and off all day─tightened considerably. She must be spending too much time with me, a part of me thought dismissively.

"She called us in." Her grip flinches tighter when she whispers this. "I'm sorry."

Called us in? I try to make sense of this for a moment. I wonder if I heard her correctly, she had spoken so softly.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I ask gently. "Why are you sorry?"

"I heard her," she choked back. Panic is crawling into her voice and her other hand leaves the straps of her bag in favor of holding onto my forearm. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she thought I would suddenly dissappear. "She called for the policeman. Told them about me. And... she gave them your name. I'm sorry Y/n."

"My name?" I gulped, but my throat felt suddenly dry. "So, the police are gonna--? They're gonna know that I'm...?"

She nodded, remorseful eyes brimming with tears. Her face twists up in a sour pout she quickly banishes. But it was clear. She was panicking, for both our sakes.

Instinctively, I gave her hand another reassuring squeeze and managed, at most, a half-assed smile. Maybe it's for her sake, or maybe it's for mine.

"It's okay, it's not entirely your fault El," I say instinctively. I gulp again despite my dry mouth, certain she notices, but there's little room to care. My mind is buzzing, sleep now a far off worry. "Yeah, okay. I'm not going to lie to you, that's... That's not good. But I also knew what I was risking when I went with you."

My words feel like they're coming in slower and slower as I process everything in real time. El's patience with me is genuine, at least, and I attempt to mirror that as I sort hastily through my thoughts.

"The truth is, things really haven't been going super well at home. Everyone's fighting─more than usual, I mean,"

El cracks a tiny somber smile at that, and I feel one spread across my face as well. But it hardly lasts for either of us.

"Like I said before, Mike hasn't been himself since you left. And now Will is acting up. In fact, he's... El, he's completely different. He's sick, he's really sick. And so angry.

"The party is falling apart, and I've felt more alone these past few weeks than I have in a really long time. And on top of it all," my voice lowers further. "I'm still finding stuff I didn't know I could do. I've been having trouble with... well, you know."

El looks to me in surprise, her eyebrows raised. Safe to say she understands what I'm getting at.

I nod. "The point is, you showing up has been just what I needed. And yes, it's scary, but thanks to you I found out how I got here─where I came from... That's really good. I have you to thank for that."

It takes her a moment to consider my words, but El eventually gives me a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. A mixture of remorse and fear is still etched into her tear-stained face as she needlessly pulls her bag further into her lap, her hand leaving my forearm again to do so. I almost think more of it before her face lights up in grateful remembrance.

El wiggles closer to me in her seat before dipping her head in. "I found her. The girl."

I perked up a bit, looking back at my friend with a daring crumb of hope.

"Really? That's great! So did you get anything useful? Maybe the girl's name or where we're going?"

The hope I saw in El's face disappeared just as soon, and she shakes her head. But her face scrunches up thoughtfully as if she was trying to remember something she might have missed.

"A city." She looks at me quizzically, repeating a word she must have heard only in passing. "Shuh-cago?"

My eyes widened. "Chicago?" El nodded. "We're going to Chicago?"

El shrugged her shoulders. This was the best she could give. "Shuh-cago."

Okay. Chicago. Deep breath in. I could do that. And out. Maybe. Maybe this was incredibly stupid. In. Then again, so was chasing down an interdimensional gate while on the run from top secret government thugs. And I had done that... Barely.

"Um, okay..." I sigh heavily, only now realizing I have been holding my breath. My eyes fall to my lap, noting my rapidly bouncing leg. "Well, are you sure? Is that what you heard, or maybe saw somewhere?"

El nodded. Another dry gulp.

"So you really think she'll help, huh?" I ask.

She gives me a weak, but reassuring smile and softly squeezes my hand. "Yes."

I look to her, grateful, but I'm unsure how genuine I appear. Yet another silence follows quickly after.

The familiar feeling bubbles up in my stomach again, though it is much more intense. Sure I had anxieties about leaving with El, but this overpowered that. At least I had the small chance of not getting caught─that I'd be back the next night and it could all be explained away by being at the Byers house. But this is quickly spiraling. This had already spiraled, and I am beginning to feel sick to my stomach with nerves. The moment the Chief got Becky Ives' message then it was only a matter of time before my mom was notified, and─oh no...

Unsurprisingly, she's going to the ends of the earth just to find Mews. I can't imagine the stress she'll inevitably be under when she finds out that some woman across town filed a report about me. And now I'm on a bus to Illinois.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The last thing I need is spirlaing my way into another accident. I have a feeling I could do a lot more damage on a crowded bus than I did boiling some cereal.

I glance at El for only a moment. Her attention is back outside, peering through the fog and the reflections on the glass. She's (presumably) oblivious to the noise in my head. A part of me─the logical part of me─is angry with myself for being so forgiving. For not communicating my disappointment well enough. Dustin always said I had a problem with that. And yet, even though I meant what I had said to El about finding out where I came from...

Maybe I did it cause I felt bad for El. She was sorry, and she was in trouble.

But I'm in trouble now, too, I remind myself.

Part of me is hoping Chicago is a dead end, and while I feel awful for feeling that way, I do. I find myself longing to be with Will again. The old Will. He always had a knack for knowing when I wasn't okay.

He always makes me feel validated when I'm upset. He listens, and he'd do anything to get me to smile. The way I want to do for him.

It hurts thinking about that now.

Whether I like it or not, I've found myself on a one way trip to the unknown, straying further and further from the safety of home.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

I don't realize I have drifted off until I feel a tap on my shoulder. My head feels much heavier and I find myself squinting against the interior lights (which now seem much brighter than before) to find El gesturing towards the isle. Through bleary eyes I make out a small line of people already shuffling down the isle ahead of us. Quickly─but rather drowsily─I rise from my seat and join them, making sure El is close behind.

We had spilled out onto the busy streets among the rest but found ourselves stalled at the edge of the sidewalk. I'm unsure about El, but the sight before me succeeds in banishing my exhaustion instantly. Between the return of the frigid breeze, the towering architecture, and the swarm of strangers every which way, I'm questioning if I'll ever sleep again.

I'm captivated as I look around in an odd mix of awe and fear. Living in a small town like Hawkins for so long makes places like Chicago feel like another planet, so it would seem.

It doesn't feel as though we're standing in the heart of the city, more so the center of a giant hive─with bees buzzing in and out with no motivation other than work. No leisure, just urgency. The entire world is whirring around us─every which way─and I suddenly have this feeling if any one person were to drop at any moment this little world would keep on moving without a second thought. It's fascinating and completely terrifying.

One curious look at El told me I wasn't alone. Neither of us had fully comprehended what we were in for until this moment. But I suppose that in itself was even slightly reassuring─that neither of us were alone.

Standing here lost in a sea of strange people, that note hits a bit harder this time as the initial shock wears off. Nobody here seems to know anyone and they all seem angry.

She remains silent at my side but El's wisdom from earlier still bring comfort to me.

"Y/n, we can defend ourselves, remember?"

She did have a point, we do have certain advantages. But then again, came that convincing little voice in my head, if we were put in a situation where we were forced to use them, then all the closer we going were to being caught.

I look to El to try and gauge her reaction and I find she's still very much lost in the towering city skyline─a genuine smile on her face. For a moment I wish I can enjoy it, but there are simply too many reminders where we are, and why I can't.

Eagerly, she starts walking down the streets and I follow her. I'm thankful I was able to retrieve my shoes and jacket, but I still can't seem to drag my thoughts away from the fact that my teeth are back to chattering. The words I spoke earlier today pop into my mind only to mock me, "I guess I kept myself warm,". Just another reason to learn how to--

A strong force strikes my shoulder hard enough to put a stumble in my steps, and instantly my train of thought is gone. I whirl around to see a man throwing me a pointed sneer over his large, squared shoulders. "Watch yourself, would ya'?," Gawking back, I spy the man making steady strides down the sidewalk with no remorse.

Huffing, I burrow my fists deeper in my jacket pockets and lie to myself that it's simply to keep my hands warm. It's bullshit, considering I don't need help in that department, but it keeps us going forward I guess.

Well, me, anyway.

I don't get in two steps before finally noticing El was at a standstill. I stop again, this time confused, to see my friend rooted to the middle of the city sidewalk. Steam from nearby grates billowed all around her, ruffling her flannel collar. She fixes a hard glare on the man behind us.

"Mouth-breather," She says, her voice low. Just then, her gaze drops and my eyes begin to widen.

I spot the man in the crowd just in time to see him stumble forward onto the concrete. Angrily, he sits up, looking around frantically and glaring at anyone who dared to titter. I felt a chuckle coming on myself when I barely make out the string of curses directed at his shoelaces as he hotly retied them.

El looked to me, hardly suppressing a smile and a roguish look in her eye. Before anyone could see, she wiped her nose clean of blood.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

If I thought I was cold before, I was dead wrong. We've been walking for about two hours, if I had to guess. The muscles in my feet are beginning to knot, and my sweatpants are clinging to my legs.

About half an hour ago, a truck drove through a puddle and I caught the tail end of the splash when we turned the corner. To pass the time, I've been trying to dry them subtly with my hands against my legs, but it didn't get me very far, even with El's advice. I finally gave it a rest after a while. I wasn't getting terribly far and I didn't want to risk draining myself if the walk was much longer.

By now I've grown used to the odd and wandering looks we've gathered. But the tension creeps back in when El leads us down an incredibly questionable alley. We are definitely in the riskier parts of the city though I try to hold my tongue and save questions until later. My instincts tell me I need to appear more confident than I am. El seems to hold up that exterior well enough, though even her confidence is waning slightly.

We find ourselves surrounded by many sluggish people, all of whom mill about around us. The alley and its inhabitants are lit mostly by fire pits in steel barrels. The stench is hard to ignore; everything wreaks of booze, cigarettes, and urine.

A frightening, cackling, man steps towards my face as we walk by and I flinch back. "They're dead. They're all dead!" He cries out.

His hyena-like laughter bounces off the cement walls and echoes in my ears. I can practically taste his awful breath and I duck my head down avoiding eye contact as I pull El along forward with me.

I can sense her eagerness to leave the alley in her vice-like grip that rivals my own. Neither of us dare let go. Without a word, we break into a matching jog and scurry on.

We don't stop until we reach what looks to be an abandoned underpass. The stench is mostly gone, but in its place something else unidentifiable. Beer cans litter the concrete and every wall is touched with graffiti.

Finally, we emerge from the darkened space to find an old and windowless warehouse. Like the underpass, there isn't a single wall or slab of concrete that isn't decorated with spray paint and neon color. This is where El stops us suddenly.

I glanced ahead of me at the building a second time, now taking in the little details. There is one tiny door ahead of us supplied with only one window─the glass dirtied and fogged, shows us nothing but flickering yellow light. And beckoning us over, curling whisps of steam pouring out of the shadows despite (what appeared to be) the windowless, pipeless, boring metal box of a building.

"Is... this it?" I ask.

"Yes." El answers. And for the first time since the alley, she releases my hand.

El sets off towards the building without another word. Almost like ripping of a band-aid; if she didn't do it now and all at once... Or maybe that's just my reasoning. I quickly follow behind, attempting to prepare myself for whatever we might find.

Upon first glance, it's not much different to the exterior; boxes, crates, barrels, and planks litter the interior and the spray paint almost smells fresh. The entrance we stand in is part of a small alcove, and it's clear the further you step inside the ceiling extends. But what catches my eye are the four people huddled around another makeshift firepit.

One girl, who sits perched on several cushions and lighting a cigarette begins to giggle teasingly. "You should do stand-up, Axe. There's a spot a few blocks away."

The group chuckles, and a tall lanky man with a large mohawk rolls his eyes with a smirk. Among them, a rather large and beefy man, who clearly seems to be the muscle, and another young woman in cuffed jeans, gloves and a dark green flannel jacket.

There is no time to worry what they might say or do when they realize we are here. El is already calling out to them. Logically, I knew we would be making ourselves known one way or another, yet my knees now feel as if they are threatening to lock at the sudden action.

"Hello?" El's voice echoed out.

The group stops and turns, their faces illuminated by the fire. The shadows now casted across their faces are eerie, like someone about to tell a ghost story.

A sickening smirk curls along the lanky one's face. My stomach drops two stories when he struts around the fire, now making his way towards us.

"Well, well... What do we have here?" He purrs, still with that no good smile.

The others follow in their friend's footsteps and rise to their feet, no doubt an act of intimidation. I look anxiously between El and the strangers, though I somehow manage to keep a still face.

These others are now inching towards us and I feel my heart rate pick up. The woman in the green jacket scoffs, looking us up and down. If I were to guess, she was trying to decide which of us looked stranger.

"What are those, overalls?" She asks finally, referring to El.

The other young woman─who had been stalking around us like we were something to play with─finally stops at me. I try to hide the tense in my shoulders but I suspect it's no use. Her gaze is somewhat bored as she looks me up and down, then jabs a bony finger in my shoulder. I roll it when she does, as if shaking off the feel of her touch.

"And get a load of this one," she squeaks, blowing smoke into my grimacing face. She lets out an awkward snort, clearly amused with my reactions and uneasy demeanor. "Y'could knock this one down with a feather,"

I cough, fanning away the miniature smog cloud lingering in my face. This gave the lanky one, Mohawk, a chuckle. The Smoker turns to me and fakes a pout.

"What's the matter, kiddies? Thought your little slumber party could use a fun little adventure in the big city, huh?"

More laughter from the others. Fighting the returning impulse to roll my eyes, I instead take another subtle deep breath.

The woman is already answering her own rhetorical question with another fake pout and flick of her cigarette ashes. "Well, you ain't gonna find it here, so go on back to the farm now."

"We're looking for my sister."

My eyes jump to El in surprise but they quickly return to the group, not particularly eager to give away the fact I had no idea what she was talking about. Sister? I do have to applaud El's quick thinking, though, I suppose.

"Aw..." Mohawk jeers. "Shirley Temple lost her sister. So sad."

"I saw her. Here." She reaches into her bag, likely for the photograph clipping from Becky's. But they all tense.

"Uh-uh," The Muscle said suddenly. "Hand out of your pocket. Slow."

El complies and Mohawk rips the news clipping from her hand. "Give me that shit."

For the first time in this encounter, this man looks apprehensive. Seeing the photo was enough to shock him into temporary silence. And apparently this in itself is enough to lure the flannel woman forward to investigate for herself. Now, like the man, she is snatching the photo up with shock.

"Is that Kali?"

"Kali?" El asks.

Mohawk steps forward, visibly on edge. Taking advantage of his height, he towers over El with an impressive glare. I say nothing, but I mirror his actions─taking a step further into El's side with a tiny glare of my own.

"How did you find us?" He questions. "Who else knows you're here?"

El backs up slightly and suddenly I was jumping to speak. "No one knows we're here." I say.

"And no one was speaking to you, either," My face sours and he returns to El. "Is this true, Shirley Temple? So, what then? Poof! You just show up like magic with that picture?"

"Stay calm." Flannel warns. "They're just kids, alright?"

He turns on her quickly. "Some kids that could get us all killed."

Like that, his anger is back on El and he pulls something from his pocket. My eyes fall to the object in his hand and my heart sinks into my stomach.

"If I have to ask again, Shirley, you'll start losing things." He carefully unfolds the pocket knife, making sure we catch the light bouncing off the blade before waving it in El's face. "Starting with those pretty little locks of yours. Yeah?"

He's in more danger than we are. He's in more danger than we are--

I still look desperately between the man and his companions─it'd be helpful to know where they stand with the threatening of children. Each of them seemed uncomfortable with his actions in varying degrees, but it was Flannel, again, who stepped forward.

"Come on, Axe. Put down the knife." She warns, her voice getting sharper.

The blade grows closer towards El's face and my heart rate breaks hummingbird records. The man is only getting angrier.

"How did you find us?"

"I saw her." El's voice is rushed and shaky, but not completely fearful. I know why, and it's the only reason I haven't (completely) fallen apart.

He advances further, still with that stupid knife and everyone's voices begin to drown in the deafening roar of blood pumping in my ears. He's beside me now as El keeps backing away and I can't bring myself to move out of his way. I'm not sure yet if it's out of bravery or fear.

"That's not an answer!" He roars.

"Axe!"

I throw aside my common sense and step fully in between them, planting myself directly in his path. "Hey-!"

He freezes, wide eyes flying to his hand. My eyes follow, fearful I've done something unintentionally. But there's nothing. Just a shaky hand with a tiny blade. Yet Mohawk staggers backward, his blade-wielding arm extended as far away from himself as possible.

"Je-Jesus!" He huffs in ragged, near incoherent sqeaks. "Jesus Christ!"

He chucks the knife on the concrete behind us, the blade nearly nicking my legs. He looks up and down his torso, his face draining of color before our eyes. He frantically swipes at himself, several fearful squeals jumping from him. El and I share a look over my shoulder, confused.

"Get off! Shit!"

He is running across the room now, hunched over and desperately swatting at his head, face, and arms. I have to step back to avoid his path as he maneuvers around me and his companions have to do the same.

"You're a terrible dancer, Axel."

Everyone, including myself, turns towards the source of the newest voice. On the stairs, leaning on the banister with a sly smirk is another young woman. Half of her head is shaved, the other half tinted a dark purple. Like the others, she was dressed in grunge, but oddly, they didn't seem shabby or cheap.

The guy named Axel relaxes, only for a moment, before it evolves into anger. He smacks his head angrily and gestured towards her as she comes down the steps.

"I told you, Kali, stay out of my head. " He spits.

"So we're threatening little kids now, are we?" She asks, striding towards us.

"They know about you." Axel defends.

The Smoker─the one who mocked me─steps forward with the photo El had procured.

"Farmgirl here had this."

The new girl, the one I can only assume to be the one we were searching for, grabs the photo. If I had to guess, she is attempting to hide her shock.

El steps away from behind me and cautiously approaches her. I'm not entirely thrilled, nor surprised, to see this girl, Kali, sizing El up and down. I don't miss the quick inspection she gives me, either.

"Where did you get this?" She asks El.

"Mama," El answers, taking the photograph back and placing it in her bag.

"Your mother gave this to you?"

"In her dream circle," El says.

I raise my brow, and as I suspect the others don't take to it, or her very easily.

"Dream circle," Axel scoffs, pacing the room. "I think she's a schizo or something."

I'm beginning to believe this man is determined to be the biggest jackass in the room.

"Says she's looking for her sister."

"Yeah. Like I said, schizo."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth and an itch crawling up my back. The idea of holding back all this anger is withering before my eyes─every word this asshole says is added coal to the fire.

My glare follows him across the room as he bends to retrieve his knife. But the blade is flying through the air and into El's waiting hand before he can touch it. This almost makes me smile.

Mumbles of surprise bounce around the group, but I simply watch with pride building in my chest as El confidently folds the knife closed and hands it to the girl.

"I saw you. In the rainbow room."

Something in the girl's eye changes drastically. She begins to stalk around El before she stops halfway to stand beside her.

"What is your name?"

"Jane."

I can't say I was expecting that, yet I wait. I concentrate my energy on keeping my jaw clenched. I've been fighting my chattering teeth ever since we stepped into this lions den and the muscles in my jaw have now grown weak and sore.

Kali grabs El's left wrist and pushes back her sleeve revealing her tattoo. In turn, El reaches for Kali's sleeve. It's pulled back to reveal a tiny cluster of ink to match El's. I almost don't notice─the sight of El allowing anyone to touch her tattoo had floored me.

That is, until I finally catch the three black digits etched into Kali's skin, and my stomach twists.

It's not actually...? My wringing hands find a new focus: the loud and blank skin of my left inner wrist.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised by this, not if we came here in search of someone like El. Someone who lived through the lab experiments with El. But the sight of the 008 tattoo hits me a little hard. Is it because it makes this all the more real? Or was it because of the longing in El's eyes as they cloud over in tears?

Her lips begun to tremble as their gazes met. "Sister."

Kali nods, breathless. "Sister,"

The two collapse into each other's arms and somehow I feel even more out of place here. It's inspiring to see; two sides of the same coin finally meeting. What each of them must have gone through─now free, now with one another. This is huge for El.

So why aren't I happy? And why does this feel like such a slippery slope?

There's no time to wonder, the two are breaking apart. Kali takes El's hands in her own, giving them a strong squeeze. The two smile at one another and my eyes fall to my feet, suddenly hyperaware of my myself and how I stand. The ends of my sweatpants are still soaked and the water in my shoes sponged up against my feet are frigid. Yet somehow, the stare of the others──the stare of Kali's──is what freezes me over.

"Jane, who is this?" She asks.

"Y/n. My friend."

Against instinct, against all comforting thought, I force myself to face her. Maybe I'm mistaken or just too damn hopeful, but the curiosity behind her eyes almost seems a bit more relaxed. Now with El's approval.

Hands still partially hidden in my jacket pocket, I send a tiny wave with my fingers and manage my best imitation of a smile.

"Hi," I mumble, trembling. Damn my chattering teeth.

The weight of Kali's stare is intimidating. I might not know the specifics of what makes her unique like us, but I can tell already her abilities aren't what make her powerful. She exudes that all on her own.

Kali looks me up and down and I almost convince myself my life depends on this one impression. And maybe it does.

Tearing me from my thoughts, Kali cocks her head and asks. "Why are you in pajamas?" She actually sounds, almost, amused? It's disarming.

"Short version?" I want to wince at the nervous chuckle that comes out involuntarily. But I'm too damn cold. And hungry. "We kinda had to make a quick get away."

Kali looks at me for a moment with an unreadable expression, though something tells me she understands. Another moment of uncertainty, seconds too long, and my mind runs in panicy circles. What did I say? What did I not say? Did I accidentally just insult her, her mother, and her entire existence without realizing? The part of my brain in charge of logic dismissed that theory almost immediately but unfortunately stress and fear were the perfect feul for doubt, as always.

Kali confirms this with a chuckle that brought time back out of slow motion. She then turns to another one of the groups members─the one who had taken caution with El and her photograph─the Muscle. He is a wide-set man with the long braid and a kindly aura.

"Funshine, take this one upstairs and help him find some warm clothes. I'd like to talk to Jane. Alone."

Her eyes fall on me, her amusement dimming away and back to speculation.

El doesn't appear to be as hesitant as I would have anticipated her to be. She's lost in the euphoria of reuniting with Kali. The idea of a sudden separation strikes fear in me─something far more powerful than the silly doubts flashing in my mind moments ago. This was a pit seeding in my stomach, ready to grow.

The larger man nods and steps forward. Surprised, my eyes flicker back to Kali and she smiles reassuringly.

"Don't worry, he's nothing but a big softie," she says with a simper, turning and leaving with El.

"El...?" Was she really just gonna leave? The two slow, and El pulls her attention away from Kali and over her shoulder to me.

"It's okay," she promises. "I'll be back," And then she was dissapearing up the stairs, Kali's arm slung over her shoulder.

...Somehow that made it worse.

The man I've been instructed to go with is smiling warmly when I turn to him. It's the first I'm put at even the slightest of ease since arriving.

"Don't you worry, we'll find something warm for you," he says, his voice deep and kind. He makes way for the stairs, pausing at the bottom with a hand on the metal rail. He throws me a brief nod over his shoulder. "We should get you by a fire, too, and quick. Dangerous for you to be walking out here like that─you'll catch your death,"

Against all odds, I feel a tiny tug at the corners of my mouth─a smile itching to spread. It doesn't quite, not with the dread sitting in my stomach like a chunk of stone or my friend walking off with a stranger.

But now, with little choice, I do the same.

My footsteps fall in sync with his almost instantly as we climb the stairs. Silence falls quick and heavy over the open space apart from our differentiating gait hiking the metal steps. I'm peering over my shoulder without much thought for consequence, my eyes meeting with the other three strangers─each of them watch me.

The way they eye me turns my stomach. The Mohawk──Axel, and the Smoker, in particular.

There was the Flannel woman─the only other person here who seemed to care El and I were children. She may be the other exception. For one, she doesn't seem interested enough, and for that I'm grateful. But mostly, I don't forget her attempts to cool down this Axel.

His glare on me sharpens, but to my surprise, I don't wither beneath it. I'm brave enough (or stupid enough) to glare back. He twirls his knife expertly in his hands as I turn away, eliciting a unpleasant cackle from Smoker. I don't need any further reassurance these are two I need to worry about.

But that's already being pushed to the back burner─Funshine and I reach the second floor and round a poorly lit corner and that's when I spot the two figures down the catwalk a ways. El and Kali. They're making their way for another, steeper pair of stairs. Smiling and laughing, already.

A sudden voice cuts through my storm of thoughts and suddenly I'm back on earth. "Right this way, friend,"

Funshine directs me to one of the makeshift bedrooms to our right and something in me weakens when we step inside. The concrete room is bathed in turquoise and peach shadows casted from the neon lights gathered inside. Where I expected all concrete walls to close me in, I see wide (albiet dirtied) windows overlooking the first floor. But the lure of it all is a split between the king size nest of pillows and blankets in the center and the fire pit in the corner.

The sight of it all is dangerously persuasive and so is the sudden wail of my aching bones and the shudder down my spine, louder than they ever were. I'm wavering already, but I'm alert enough to realize the longing in my eyes as they rake across the bed and fire is obvious.

Funshine gestures towards the fire in the corner and ushers me along. "Go ahead and warm up. I'll be right back with some proper clothes." He says before turning.

I nod absently, far too entranced and eagerly gravitating towards the warmth now before me.

He leaves from where we came and disappears around the corner. I stifle a smile when I feel the heat washing over my body. Muscles I didn't even realize I had are melting as they meet the warm glow of the flames.

I'm not sure how long I'm standing there, but it must be several minutes at the least. Enough time for Funshine to return with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"Here you are," I trail behind him to the bed where he drops the small mountain on the edge of the sunken mattress. "I gathered a few things that I thought might fit you best. Theres plenty of stuff in here, so you'll have options. But I insist you consider dressing in layers. It'll only get worse out there," He sends me another nod and begins to head back for the door. "Alright then. You get warm, now,"

And that's all he says. He's already heading for the door. I have a sudden fear I won't get another chance to speak with him. Or let the swell of gratitude I felt be known. I couldn't hold my tongue any longer, nor did I want to.

"Hey," I call out, growing nervous. "Um..." I winced a bit at my trailing voice.

He slows at the door and turns around, giving me a curious look.

"Thank you," I mumble, mustering a smile as grateful as I felt. "For the clothes. And-- well, everything, I guess."

Another friendly smile stretches across his face and once again he nods.

↬ previously ↫

"Mama? It's me. Jane. I'm home."

"No."

"RUN!"

"Breathe."

"RUN!"

"Three to the right, four to the left."

"Breathe."

"Sunflower."

"Rainbow."

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

"Four fifty."

"RUN!"

"Rainbow."

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

El rips the blindfold off her eyes in panic, her breathing heavy and uneven. As she is brought back to reality she looks up at her mother in her rocking chair. There are tears in her eyes and she is sadly uttering the same words.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left."

As she feels a pair of arms wrap gently around her, she finally notes the trembling down her spine-the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders. She feels a hand grab hers and immediately recognizes it as Y/n's. It is a comforting gesture for El to squeeze his hand and Y/n shows his support by gently tracing circles with his thumb.

El savors the warmth of Y/n's embrace and the security of their interlocked hands. It helps to still her quaking body and soothe her anxiousness.

She sits in silence, embracing the support presented to her as she tries to calm her racing heart. For a while, no one speaks, and only her mother's murmurs are heard.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"And it just kept repeating?" Becky asks.

The three had returned to the kitchen, Becky and El sitting across from one another while Y/n stood leaning against the counter behind El, a glass of water in hand. El frowned at the foreign word.

"Repeat?"

"Like a circle?" Becky answered. "Just showing you the same image over and over?"

El thought about this, and her eyes glanced in Y/n's direction without moving her head.

"She kept showing the woman. And the girl in the room."

"The rainbow room?"

El nodded, flinching ever so slightly at the invasion of the flashback. A memory that wasn't hers, trapped in her mind.

Becky thought about this. Her fingers drummed lightly against the back of her hand, lost in thought. She shrugged, her hand waving slightly before falling back onto the table.

"I guess that makes sense. Terry always believed you weren't the only..." Becky trailed off, her eyes fixed on the young boy in her kitchen.

Y/n had his eyes locked on the tile floor, a glass of water gripped tightly in his hand and clutched against his chest. There had been a faraway, somber look in his eyes throughout El's story. But Becky's sudden silence brought him out of it. He looked between her and El, curiously as if he had missed something.

But then he noted that Becky's eyes had fallen on his glass. Y/n looked down at the cup to find that the water had begun to bubble. Y/n's eyes widened, and he cursed under his breath. Quickly he set the cup down on the tile counter and the bubbles disappeared within moments. He cleared his throat. Uncomfortable with the attention, his eyes fall to the floor once more, except for a few glances at Becky, who still eyed the glass with a knowing look hidden in her gaze.

The older woman must have decided it best to carry on with El's story. Though not without the occasional glance at her niece's friend.

"The woman she kept showing you, what did she look like?"

In the time between El's departure from her mother's mind and their current discussion at the table, she had briefly filled them in on each image she was shown. And while they had gotten the picture, it was still out of focus, details were fuzzy and nearly impossible to identify.

Until now.

El thought about the question carefully. She had seen it fully fleshed out, but only once. It didn't help that the woman had been at such a distance. But this didn't stop El from trying. She spoke slowly with a frown on her face as she reached farther and farther into her memory.

"She was pretty." She began, smiling sadly.

"She had... short, h/c hair," El touched a lock of curls growing wildly on her head. While it was the longest it had ever been, she understood now that it was considered short by the world's standards. "She... her face... She looked like Y/n."

El met her aunt's gaze and nodded, confirming her suspicions.

"I think..." her sympathetic eyes burned into Y/n's tearful ones. "it was your mom."

"My-- My mom? She showed you my mom?"

El nodded sadly, and Y/n fell silent. The knots tightening in his gut were easily noticeable in his shifting feet and wringing hands.

The air around the three was thick and demanding as the truth sank in.

Y/n took a deep breath and attempted to swallow the lump hardening in his throat. "So, my birth mom, she's...?"

El nodded again, and for a moment she studied the body language of her friend. El didn't quite have a solid grasp of body language, but she knew enough to know her best friend was in deep distress. Tentatively, she reached out her arm over the back of the wooden chair and extended her hand, offering what Y/n had offered her countless times in their friendship; a lifeline.

"I'm sorry," El croaked, pained both by the tragedy she had witnessed and the heartbreak it caused in someone so very dear to her.

Y/n eagerly accepted El's offer and sniffled, squeezing her hand in thanks. No one judged him when he stepped forward, grabbed a napkin from the center of the table and blew his nose before joining them at the table. Both El and Becky had shed their fair share of mournful tears, if not in the last hour alone.

"Why did they take her?" Y/n couldn't help but ask, though he realized El's guess was as good as his own. "Why did they, you know... What did she do?"

Again, El thought carefully on this. She ran through her mother's memory with a fine tooth comb, disappointed to come up with so many blanks.

"I'm not sure," answered El, slowly. "She said Mama 'could still make it.' That she knew where to go."

Becky's sudden sigh drew the children's attention. They were both a bit shocked to see the woman so uneasy. Becky planted her face in her hands and rubbed tiredly. It was clear to them that Becky was already regretting the words she had yet to speak.

"You two have to realize, I only did what I thought was best for Terry. I really thought it was all some trauma response or something, okay? I mean, after everything she was put through, I wouldn't blame her... That's why I didn't believe her."

The two friends looked at her curiously, having already understood this. It made it all the more difficult for Becky. To see the spitting image of her sister in this little girl, it brought back so much guilt and anguish.

"There was something else she tried to tell me about, something else I should have believed before," Becky faltered, and meekly gestured to her sister in the other room. "Terry thought she could have gotten you out. Terry thought she could have gotten you out because someone else did."

"For the longest time, she kept telling me about someone else in the program. Y/m/n, I think. I didn't really believe her, but according to my sister, another woman had a baby." Becky paused, eyeing Y/n who was hanging onto her every word. "A special baby. Like you, El. And the big 'They' Terry claimed was after her, They wanted this other baby, too. And, I guess, based on what you saw, she really did it."

All attention gradually crept over to the Henderson boy who sat frowning at the intricate patterns of the wooden table. While he still looked shocked, a closer look at his stillness revealed it wasn't. It was clarity, and a profoundly sad one at that.

"I was found." He muttered.

El and Becky shared a glance.

"My mom, she was still pregnant with Dustin, I think, and... She was in town, visiting family. And Mom said she had found me. Just off..."

He shook his head and laughed bitterly at himself in disbelief. Tears brimmed as the realization fell fully on his shoulders. Y/n felt nothing short of ridiculous for not putting it together sooner.

"My mom found me near the edge of Wright's farm. That old pumpkin patch. It's not that far down the road from Hawkins National Lab."

His whole life, Y/n had never had any reason to possibly associate the two. For twelve years of his life, it was known as the place he was found, not 'that farm down the road from the lab'. It was always the general assumption that he had come from somewhere closer to Forest Hills, or even a short way north of Mt. Sinai. Some old government building that few knew existed wasn't exactly an obvious candidate.

Even throughout the week of Will's disappearance, the discovery of the lab and the dark truths hidden within had felt not like the missing puzzle piece it was, but a different puzzle altogether.

Now, the picture had been completely reshaped. What once was a reflex thought had been completely flipped upside down. It suddenly didn't make an ounce of sense for him to have come from any other place. The truth of it all was now a searing hot weight crushing him down.

"On her way into town. Just off the edge of the property. She always told me she nearly crashed her car trying to go back for me. I guess she passed me and slammed on her brakes when she realized," Y/n blubbered, reciting the story he had heard countless times. Hastily, he wiped his nose with the napkin again and took several deep breaths. "She said she nearly didn't see me, I was so small, and... Well, she asked all around, filed it with the police -even quit her job and found something part time in town just so she could stay longer and make sure I was safe and the whole thing was sorted out. Reunited with whoever I might have been separated from, even."

Becky's sympathetic frown deepened, touched by the story.

"When it was decided I didn't have anyone-that I would have gone into the system-my mom she..." Y/n laughed tearfully. "Well, apparently she had jumped through every hoop she had to just to be the one I came home with."

"I guess it all makes sense, her always saying it was a miracle I survived as long as I did." Y/n added, more to himself than anything.

El tilted her head, clearly confused. "Miracle?" She asked softly.

Becky answered absentmindedly, "Something unnatural or unlikely. A good something."

Y/n nodded halfheartedly, and a small sniffle tore through the quiet. His lips cracked the tiniest of smiles as he spoke, "I guess that answers that question."

El smiled weakly. Becky didn't understand but Y/n quickly explained.

"It wasn't until last year that I found out I had, erm," he quickly shrugged, embarrassed. After all this time, Y/n still felt a little ridiculous saying it. It didn't help that he almost never spoke it aloud but he guesses, in this instance, he could. "Well, that I'm like El."

"To be perfectly honest, I'm still finding things I didn't know I could do." He added.

"That doesn't really surprise me," Becky said. "Then again, it's getting kinda hard to surprise me at the moment. Terry went on about you a lot. She said they were after Y/m/n's son because he-you-were supposed to have--"

Becky stopped, the same words from last year popping back into her mind. The very same she had shared with that Byers woman and the Chief.

"Supposedly had some 'untapped potential for the greater good.' Some real pseudoscience shit."

She bit her lip before she could say the words and Y/n's frown hardened. He leaned forward, urgently. "What?"

Becky looked at the child before her. Those doe eyes of his were pleading and Becky's guilt doubled. But she also couldn't dump such a heavy load on a child, especially after he had learned what he had just learned.

Becky sighed and looked at the boy.

"Potential. Apparently, whoever was after you had plenty a' reasons to believe that you can do a whole lot more than boil some water. Let's just leave it at that." She said, gesturing with her eyes to the forgotten glass of water sitting on the counter. Y/n gave her an incredulous look in return.

"What do you--? That can't be right. I mean, sure my birth mother must have been, well you know, experimented on when she was pregnant with me, but I didn't grow up in a lab like El. I wasn't trained, or--"

He stopped, choosing his next words carefully.

"I never learned how to use my powers. How could I have as much potential as El?"

Becky shrugged her shoulders and looked between the children before her, wincing. "I really don't know, sweetheart. To be honest, I'm still getting used to the fact that all this stuff is real."

A defeated sigh escaped Y/n's chest and his chin came to rest on his arms that lay folded on the surface of the table. There was a brief silence apart from the mumbles of the television and El allowed herself to dwell on the loop of borrowed memories playing over in her head.

"The girl," she reminded them tentatively. "She also kept showing me the girl."

Y/n turned to her, quizzically, the gears turning in his head.

"What about her, El?"

"I think Mama wants us to find her."

A frown found its way onto Y/n's face, but he gave his friend the benefit of the doubt. He was still unsure about all of this. Not unlike El's aunt, Y/n was still in the process of swallowing all of this new information himself.

El looked at Becky who nodded in thought before rising from the table. El and Y/n followed curiously as she led them into the next room, the small office space adjoining the living room. Becky bent over and pulled open a drawer from a steel filing cabinet. It was filled with several manilla folders and littered with sticky note bookmarks sticking out from the dividers.

"When Terry was looking for you," Becky began, her fingers riffling through the dozens of file folders. "She kept these files of other missing kids. Kids she thought were like you."

Still lost in her search, Becky grabbed small handfuls of files as she combed, dropping them at Y/n and El's feet should they want them. Immediately, the pair of friends knelt down to the ground and began pouring over the folders.

"Maybe that girl is in here somewhere." Becky finished, grabbing the last of the folders before joining the two on the carpet.

Everyone had taken a few folders each. Every photo Y/n came across, he would show El. But she would only shake her head. Y/n found the act of hope silly and daring, but he kept a careful eye out for any possible leads as to his possible birth mother. He had a first name and a description. That was something.

"Does anyone look familiar?" Becky asked.

She was met with silence as El continued to rifle through her folder. El had nearly reached the end when she unexpectedly froze, grabbing the attention of those in her company. Before either her friend or her aunt could attempt to sneak a glimpse of the photo, El grabbed the photocopy and closed the folder. It was another newspaper article, featuring a photo of a very young girl with dark braids and checkered overals. The caption read, "VANISHED! Indian Girl Missing in London".

"Is that her?" Becky asked softly.

El looked up, her heart racing, and nodded.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El found herself in the void for the third time that day. Her toes sank into the imaginary water, and she was greeted by the usual chill. Like a visible mantra, she repeated the image of the girl her mother had shown her, not the picture she held in her hands. The girl in the rainbow room, the girl playing with blocks, and before she knows it El can hear a small crackling behind her.

She turns and her heart leaps with hope. In the distance, she spots a figure standing before a rising cloud of smoke. The figure had their back turned to El and the closer she approached, the easier it was to make out the source.

This figure was standing over a large metal barrel with fire bubbling over the top. It was a very strange sight for El, but in a way, it was quite rewarding. She had finally found some luck, this being the first sign of the girl El had found since her first attempt.

After finding the article, she had set out to search for the girl but had no luck. Night had fallen by then, and Y/n had thanked his past self for packing an extra set of clothes. Y/n was wary of staying the night but ultimately agreed they needed more information.

Becky had been more than accommodating. She had pulled out a futon for the two to share. This was where they now lay. Few words had been exchanged, given the tremendous load the friends had been through. Though they had still managed to crack a smile when El had learned from Y/n what the term sleepover meant.

"Thanks for bringing me along, El," Y/n mumbled. He had wrapped himself under their shared blanket, his head sinking into his pillow.

El had turned her head to look at her friend and nodded simply. Between themselves, Y/n was slightly better at holding a conversation. But it was nice. Y/n never pressured her to talk.

"I'm sorry it wasn't under better circumstances, but, at least we get to have a sleepover," he had whispered sleepily.

Y/n quickly noted the confusion on his friend's face. Grinning weakly, Y/n fought the weight of his heavy eyelids.

"A sleepover is something best friends do. They stay at each other's houses for a night-usually, they watch a movie or play a game or something but," Y/n trailed off, a yawn escaping him. "Well, you know. But you get to talk after dark, and even see each other in the morning. Anyways," he yawned into his blanketed hand and nestled further into his pillow. "I know it's not a traditional spleepover, but I still think it's nice that we get to spend some time together."

El found herself smiling at the words and her spirits soared for the first time since their arrival. It gave El a spark of hope. Hope that, when all of this was figured out, and everything had smoothed over-maybe she could have a normal life.

El, in that moment, could see a normal life for herself with her aunt. She could have a real chance at seeing Mike, and have sleepovers with Y/n, and play outside. El could be a kid.

But that was on the back burner.

She needed to find this girl. She had done what she had set out to do, she had found her mother. Now that she had, El couldn't help but feel like her mother was telling her something. El needed to find this girl.

And that's exactly what she did.

It hadn't been long until Y/n had turned over on his side, mumbling a soft goodnight before he was fast asleep. But El was still wide awake. Her mother's memories haunted her and she felt restless. El picked up the picture of the girl from the newspaper. She had kept it in her pocket and decided to try it again.

So here she was, creeping cautiously towards her fate with bated breath. Guardedly, she called out to the figure, smoke billowing into the air from where the makeshift firepit stood before them.

"Hello?"

El approaches the figure and as she gets closer and closer her suspicions are quickly confirmed when she recognizes them. The girl, from her mother's memories. The article. She was here, and noticeably older than herself.

El noticed the girl was dressed in dark shabby clothing, and her hair looked... purple? El isn't sure, but her heart is pounding too hard in her chest to worry about it. Before she has time to glance at her face she is gasping for air, back in reality. Back in bed.

Excitedly, she turns to Y/n. Her smile toothy smile falters when she realizes her friend is lost in sleep. So El allows her friend a few more minutes. Like herself, he had been through a great deal and it seemed to have taken a toll on him. But she could tell her aunt.

El bursts up from the mattress and out into the hallway, running for the stairs. Fighting the urge to shout, she calls out to her aunt when she reaches the top of the stairs.

"Becky! Becky, I found her!"

When she reaches the kitchen, she looks around excitedly for the woman. Surely she would know what to do next.

Only seconds pass until she tunes into her aunt's voice echoing in from the porch.

"I just-- I didn't know who to call."

El stepped further into the kitchen, her head peeking around the corner to find her aunt Becky, pacing on the porch. She held a lit cigarette to her lips, and the long cord from the kitchen phone stretched out behind her. Whoever she was talking to, she sounded anxious. She also seemed focused on a small slip of paper she held in her other hand.

"He gave me this number, and he came here looking for her. I thought maybe he could help me."

El felt a sick feeling bubble up in her stomach, and a dark and heavy weight settle on her heart as she watched the all too familiar exchange. Suddenly she was back with the nice man, Benny. He had been the very first to take her in after her escape. He gave her food, and what clothes he could find. But El desperately tried to banish that memory from her mind given how it ended.

"Yeah, Jim Hopper, he came here with some woman named Joyce Byers?"

El watches disgusted and hurt as her only remaining family turns her in. Their own private conversation from before plays mockingly over in her head. Of when she was invited to stay. In the lovely and comforting room that was supposed to be hers. And although her mom wasn't the same, she could still be with her.

Just as soon as it had been offered, the dream life she had conjured for herself just minutes before evaporated into thin air. A normal life with no rules, where she could go outside, or at the very least, look out of a single window.

Visits with Mike, sleepovers with Y/n. A normal life. Gone. Just like that.

"Well," sighed Becky, her figure temporarily stepping out of view. "that's a little hard to explain. Uh..."

El shifted uneasily, the dark sludge in her stomach swelling in volume at what Becky said next.

"There's another kid, uh-yeah, a different one. A boy, around her age. He's some friend of hers, I think? I don't know much, but it sounds like this kid comes from the same side of the tracks as the first. But as far as I know, he's got a family. Said he was adopted..."

"No, I did not," Becky says after a moment's pause. "I did not catch a last name, but he goes by Y/n. Look, I don't know if he's a runaway, or what, but he showed up on my doorstep with the other. I just put them to bed... No, mam, it's just those two, but I think another girl is missing. Oh, it's all so confusing. I just-- I just didn't know who to call... Thank you, thank you. And you are?"

"Florence," Becky repeated, though she paused when she heard the distant sound of the front door opening.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." She mumbled nervously into the phone.

Quickly, she scuttles back inside, discarding the phone and the slip of paper. She looks on in disbelief as she finds the contents of her purse spilling out across the counter. And in the center, wide open and empty, was her leather wallet.

Picking up her speed she races through the front room and towards the front door. Becky stops when she sees it. The sight of it makes her stomach drop.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The Byers house had come alive once more. Since Bob's discovery, every able body in the house had gotten their hands on a tape measure and had gotten to solving the next aspect of the puzzle Will had unknowingly left; a map of Hawkins wherein lay an 'x' in dire need of finding.

"Alright," Bob calls out. "I got 2.5 inches. What'd you got?"

"I'm not sure" Mike calls from Joyce's room. "Mrs. Byers?"

"Hold on!" She calls, stretching the measuring tape around the corner.

Unfortunately, they had yet to find the spot where Hopper was. Bob was at the kitchen table, mapping out coordinates while Mike and Joyce measured the distances between marked areas.

"Twenty-one feet, four inches."

"What about Tippecanoe to Danford Creek?" Bob asked.

Joyce's face scrunched up as she thought of where she last saw it.

"Da-Danford, Danford?"

"Dining room!" Will answered excitedly.

Joyce joined him with the measuring tape. She turned to face Bob who was in the other room.

"Sixteen feet, ten inches."

"What about Danford to Jordan?"

Joyce sighed, hurrying across the room to Bob's side.

"That's gotta be enough?"

Bob began sputtering, shaking his head sadly.

"It's not. It's really not."

"Can't you f-figure it out?"

By now, everyone was regrouped around the table. Everyone was watching Bob hopefully. He shrugged.

"Well, it's hard. The ratio isn't exactly one to one. I-I mean, if you're twisting my arm, and you're twisting my arm, I would say the x is" he drew a few lines on the map with his ruler, double-checking his math. "maybe, a half-mile southeast of Danford?"

A beaming smile found its way onto Joyce and she exclaimed happily.

"Thank you!"

She leaned down and planted a big kiss on Bob's cheek, bringing a smile of his own to his lips.

Grabbing the map, she took out of the room, Mike, Will, and a confused Bob behind her.

"What? Are we really going?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dustin pulls his bike into the Wheeler driveway. Hopefully, Mike was home. And hopefully, he'd have a pretty damn good explanation as to why he wasn't answering his coms! He stood at the front door, repeatedly ringing the doorbell, and waited impatiently. He could have sworn he heard a muffled voice call out.

"Ted, can you get that please?"

When Mr. Wheeler opened the door, Dustin tried to remain as cool and collected as possible though it was difficult. He looked Mr. Wheeler in the eye and spoke carefully.

"Your line has been busy for over two hours, do you realize that?"

With the same unimpressed look painted across the man's face, as it always was, he nodded simply. "I do realize."

"Is Mike home?"

"No."

"No?" Dustin repeated, his composure cracking. "Well, where the hell is he?"

Mr. Wheeler's usual plain and tepid voice raised suddenly as he looked behind him into the house.

"Karen, where's our son?"

"Will's!" Came Mrs. Wheeler's voice from inside.

Mr. Wheeler calmly and disinterestedly looked back at Dustin.

"Will's," he said simply.

Dustin sighed heavily. "No one's picking up there. Nancy, what about Nancy?" He tried.

"Karen, where's Nancy?"

"Ally's!" She answered shortly.

"Ally's," Mr. Wheeler said and he shrugged. "As you can see, our children don't live here anymore. You didn't know that?"

Dustin felt all his hope evaporate as he looked at the dull man.

"Now, are we done here?" He asked pointedly.

Dustin sighed heavily, all efforts to be polite were long gone.

"Son of a bitch, you're really no help at all, you know that?" He said over his shoulder, as he walked away.

Ted called out lazily after the boy, his heart not entirely in the fight.

"Hey, language!"

Dustin had returned to his bike. He picked it up hotly, now feeling completely on edge. His ears perked when he saw a car pull up near the sidewalk. He watched in curiosity until he saw someone unexpected climb out: Steve Harrington. He was lazily carrying a bouquet of roses that hung at his side and he was nervously muttering to himself as he made his way across the lawn.

"Listen, I've been thinking, love you, I'm sorry. 'Sorry', what the hell am I sorry for?"

"Steve!"

Steve was equally surprised to see the Henderson kid eagerly making his way towards himself. He stopped as the kid approached him, and he gestured to the flowers in his hands.

"Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?" Dustin asked.

Steve gave the boy an odd look and shook his head. "No, they're for--"

"--Great," Dustin ripped the bouquet from his unsuspecting hands and headed for Steve's car.

"Hey, what the hell? Hey!"

"Nancy isn't home," Dustin answered simply.

"Well, where is she?"

"Doesn't matter. We have bigger problems than your love life. You still have that bat?"

Steve watched as Dustin opened the passenger side door and looked at him expectantly.

"Bat? What bat?"

"The one with the nails." He replied, obviously.

"Why?"

"I'll explain it on the way."

Dustin climbed into the passenger seat and only then did Steve snap into action. Breaking into a jog, he couldn't help but ask.

"Wh-? Now?"

"Now!"

With that, Dustin closed the car door and watched impatiently as the boy made his way to the front seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper groans as he swipes yet another handful of dirt behind him. He stops for another break though he knows he shouldn't. If it hadn't been for his watch, he surely would have lost all sense of time. And all he had managed to show for it was a hole in the wall two feet long that barely fit his torso. An overwhelming sense of defeat blankets the man and he feels himself slide down the wall of dirt and onto the floor.

He could feel the tickle in his lungs grow stronger and he coughed weakly. Despite the tightness in his chest, he does what always brings him false feelings of comfort. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes. In his weakened hazy state, Hopper fails to notice the small but thick tendrils of vines snaking their way towards his legs.

Before he can do anything to stop them, he sees the thick ropes curl around his ankle and he jolts at the sudden contact. He scrambles to his feet in a panic, momentarily losing his balance.

"Son of a bitch!"

He bends down and begins to claw frantically at the vines. Stopping himself before he can waste more time, he searches his pockets until his fingers land on the cool metal of his knife. Quickly, he pulls out the tool, unsheathing the blade, and brings it to the vines that are now up to both his knees. Unfortunately, he is so focused on the vines at his feet, that he fails to notice the one making its way up to his back and around his neck.

Hopper grunts as his back hits the ground, knocking the air out of him. Hardly any time passes for him to be completely ensnared in the sentient undergrowth and his cries for help are quickly smothered and snuffed out, buried underground with him.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"And that was the last we ever saw her. After that, she was just, gone. I can't believe it's been that long, it feels like yesterday." Lucas finishes.

Max nods, a concentrated frown on her face.

"Yeah, I mean, I bet," she says, lifting Lucas's hopes. "Wow,"

Lucas nods, a sense of relief washing over him at how the skeptic was taking it. She had, for the most part, remained silent during his story. She didn't show any effort to hide her confusion but seemed to go along with it.

"It's crazy, I know."

"It's crazy, but," she shrugged. "I really liked it."

It was Lucas's turn to be confused. "You like it?"

"Yeah," she frowned slightly, a tight smile on her face. "Well, I mean, I had a few issues?"

"Issues?"

"I just felt it was a little derivative at some parts."

Lucas was flabbergasted, and his high hopes came crashing down to the ground.

"What are you talking about."

She shrugged simply, tucking her palms in her lap as she looked at him with irritation.

"I just wish it had a little more originality, is all."

Lucas could feel anger bubbling up in his chest. He leaned forward, a frown etched into his brows.

"You don't believe me?"

Max chortled and gave the boy a pathetic glance. Her voice began to rise steadily, her own anger taking over her false intrigue.

"Lucas, come on, seriously? How gullible do you think I am?"

"Why would I make this up?" Lucas shot back.

"I don't know! To impress me, or something? Or, you're just like, insane."

"I tell you all of this," Lucas declares hotly, rising to his feet. "I mean, top-secret stuff, risking my life, and this is how you react?"

Max scoffed, still not allowing herself the possibility of believing what he had told her to hide the small seedling of fear that had burrowed itself inside her. She did as she had learned to survive. Brush it off.

Instead, Max looked at him with an amused expression painted on her face."'Risking your life?'"

The frustration festered inside of Lucas at the girl's unwavering amusement at the traumatic experience. "Oh, so this is funny to you?"

"Yeah, I mean, kinda funny?"

Lucas only glared at her, and a smug smile finds its way onto her face as she rises to her feet.

"Stupid, but funny."

Shrugging him and the properly burrowed feeling of fear off her shoulders, she waltzed towards the door, her board in hand.

"Where are you going?"

She stopped and gave him a passing look. "Story time's over, isn't it?"

Lucas feels the harsh sting of her words and decides he wants to put in a few of his own. As she strides out of the arcade, he stays on her heels.

"What is wrong with you? I gave you what you wanted."

"I wanted to be a part of the group, not a part of some joke."

Her mask of anger had begun to crack, and shining through was genuine hurt. Lucas did his best to convey his seriousness, though at this point he didn't know how much good it would do.

"It's not a joke," he said again slowly.

"You did a good job, okay?" She said, nodding though Lucas could still detect a hint of sadness. "And you can go tell the others that I believed your lies and get your little experience points, or whatever."

Quickly, she turned on her heels, her red hair whipping over her shoulder and he quickly followed, grabbing her arm gently. She turned to look at him shocked, but he quickly released her and spoke softly once more.

"We have a lot of rules in our party, okay? But the most important thing is, friends don't lie. Never, ever, no matter what."

"Is that right?" She said confidence dripping from her words knowing she had caught him. "Then how do you explain this?"

This time, she gestured for him to follow her. They turned the corner and into the isle of games. She swiftly ripped the piece of paper from the screen that read, OUT OF ORDER, and stuck it on Lucas's chest with the remaining bits of tape that resided on the back.

Lucas sighed, ripping the piece of paper off his shoulder and sent her a pleading look.

"I had to do that, to protect you."

Max snapped once more, her anger and her own frustrations getting the best of her.

"Protect me from who, exactly?" Max's voice began to rise in volume. "The big government baddies at Hawkins Lab?" She rested her board against the machine, and she angrily stuffed her hands into her pockets for coins before inserting them into Dig Dug as she yelled at the boy.

As calmly and discreetly as possible, he spoke to her as his eyes darted around the arcade.

"Keep your voice down."

Her demeanor shifted too quickly to that of exaggerated understanding. "Or maybe to protect me from the Demogorgon from another dimension."

"Max, I'm serious, shut up!"

Ignoring him, and his voice still rising, she turned to him, this time speaking with exaggerated excitement.

"No, no, no. I know, it was Y/n and his other superpowered friend, what was it? Eleven-"

Max's eyes widened when Lucas suddenly threw his hands over her mouth. His eyes were pleading and he whispered under his breath, begging her.

"Stop. Talking." He glanced over her shoulder worriedly. "You are going to get us killed. Do you understand?"

Only then did it click for Max when she saw the desperation, the fear, in Lucas's eyes. It was enough to chill her to the bone. She pulled his arm away from her face and looked at him seriously for the first time since he tricked her. Desperately, she searched his eyes. For anything, any sign of humor, any hint that he was putting up an act to convince her. But to her horror, she saw only fear.

"You're serious?"

He stepped back, his voice still low. "I really wish I wasn't."

She quickly recovered, and while she had begun to believe, her skepticism was quickly trying to convince her otherwise. "Prove it."

A defeated look washed over Lucas. He shrugged lightly. "I can't."

"So what? I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes."

She shifted on her feet lightly and something clicked.

"Can't Y/n show me his little trick or whatever, just--"

A car engine roared to life outside, cutting her off. She sped to the window and much to her chagrin, it was exactly who she had suspected.

"Shit, I gotta go."

Pulling yet another surprise from her sleeve, she faced Lucas and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked deeply, but briefly, into his eyes, giving him a pleading look of her own. A look begging him to trust her.

"Don't follow me out. Okay?" She whispered gently.

She released his hand and opens the door, heading out. Lucas couldn't stop the words that left his mouth in desperation.

"Do you believe me?"

She never answered, and he watched solemnly as she scurried to the blue Camaro and scrambled inside. Someone pushed past his shoulders trying to get by, the door still cracked open unknowingly giving away his presence to Billy Hargrove.

Max scrambled inside the car, tucking in her feet and her board just before closing the door. Billy, who had his head resting on the headrest and looking out of the window, was seething.

"The hell I tell you?" He growled.

Max gave him an odd look. "I'm not late."

"You know what I'm talking about."

Swallowing her fear, she quickly recovered and masked her face with confusion. "Oh, Lucas?"

Billy scoffed in disgust, his brows furrowed under his sunglasses as his anger rose. "So he has a name now, huh?"

She cursed herself for stammering, knowing he would pick up on it but prayed he didn't.

"It's a small town, okay? We weren't hanging out." She assures him.

Billy shrugs lightly, and his voice lowered. "Hmm. Well, you know what happens when you lie."

Max shook her head.

"I'm not lying."

For the first time in their exchange, Billy looks at Max. His head lazily rolled over to his other shoulder and he searches her face quickly. Thankfully, he seems to buy it and returns his gaze to the road, his left arm still hanging out of the window and the car speeds off. After the car is gone, Lucas deems it safe to exit and he scurries to the parking lot, watching the car disappear.

Worriedly, she looks out the window behind her before quickly looking forward in fear of being caught.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El and Y/n watch patiently in the kitchen as Becky cuts an old towel in two. She holds it up to them, the cloth now the perfect size and shape for a makeshift blindfold. "Like this?"

El nodded, her chin still resting gently on her palm. "Yes."

The three returned to the living room, and Y/n, per El's request, had turned the volume up on the television set so the static echoed throughout the room.

El sat on the carpet, legs folded beneath her as she folded the cloth into a proper blindfold. Becky sat to the left of Y/n, who sat criss-cross just a foot or two away from El, giving her space.

"It's okay if I sit here, right?" Becky asked.

"Yes," El said, securing the blindfold around her eyes.

"And I won't mess it up or anything?"

"No," El answered, growing short.

"Okay." Becky licked her lips nervously, looking longingly toward her sister.

"If you talk to Terry, will you tell her that I love her very much? And that I'm sorry that I didn't believe--"

"Stop talking," El said crossly.

"Okay, sorry," Becky mumbled.

Y/n caught her eye, and he mouthed a 'sorry'. Becky's lips pressed into a firm line, shrugging, implying she didn't take it too seriously. Her attention was mostly concentrated on her sister, and Y/n had begun to feel the same as Becky did. In the aspect that he felt out of place while El communicated with her mother.

"Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow." Terry mumbled, her fingers twitching and lips twitching. "Run. Breathe. Sunflower."

El awoke in the familiar dark landscape, her toes curling slightly in the imaginary water.

Her mother sat before her, just as she looked moments ago in the living room.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow."

El timidly made the journey forward, growing closer to her mother which each step. She only hoped this would work.

"Three to the right, four to the left. Four fifty. Run."

"Mama?"

"Sunflower. Rainbow."

"Mama, it's me..."

"-four to left. Four fifty."

"...Jane."

Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she did her best to remain calm. Her mother was only feet away, she was upset with herself for being nervous, she had wanted this her whole life. Yet, the closer she got the more nervous she became.

"Breathe. Rainbow."

"I'm here now,"

"Four fifty."

El took the final step, now only inches away from her mother. After the words left her tongue, everything happened quickly. "I'm home."

The women's head snapped in her direction, her eyes boring into El's, desperation clouding them.

"No."

Terry reached for her daughter, her hand snatching El's, startling her. El was jerked forward and before she knew it, she felt her eyes open on the black landscape. Instantly she had been transported further into her mother's mind, but she had yet to figure that out. To her, it felt as if everything was rebooted, like she had only just now woken up in the void and the last few moments hadn't happened.

But she was alone.

"Mama!"

Her wails were interrupted by uneven footsteps scurrying behind her. El whirled around to see a woman in a long orange dress running to the right. Eagerly, she followed and she watched in horror as the woman she now recognized as a younger version of her mother, had begun to slow. She was grasping her very pregnant belly and panting heavily, seemingly trying to catch her breath and continue on. Before she could reach out to her mother -- to try to talk to her -- El found herself watching curiously as her mother looked worriedly over her shoulder.

Her eyes were filled with sorrow and she whimpered, her lip quivering as she tried not to cry. Curiously, El turned to see what her mother was looking at and her eyes widened at the sight. El noticed she was wearing a hospital gown similar to the one she wore back in Hawkins lab. Her [m/b/t] (mother's body type) figure wobbled tiredly across the landscape, heading straight for them. She was panting heavily like she had been running a great distance, and her speed was rapidly decreasing. Behind her, a swarm of angry men in uniform -- bad men, El realized -- hot on her heels.

"Terry!" She cried. "Go! Now! You can still make it! You know where to go-!"

The woman was tackled to the ground, and she wailed in pain. El jumped back in fear even though she wasn't too close. El got a better look at her, and she watched in sorrow and guilt as the woman was grabbed roughly and yanked to her feet. She was dragged away, screaming and kicking, fighting for her life.

"Terry, what are you waiting for?! RUN!"

El watched aghast as the h/c-haired woman was pulled farther and farther away, her screams never ceasing. Unlike anything she had ever seen in the void, she could make out the bad men turning a corner before disappearing around an invisible corner. Before El could make out what happened, a loud bang was heard and the screams stopped. El stumbled back in fear, tears streaming from her eyes. Her ankle caught something and she fell backward into the thin pool of water. She hid her face in her hands, the panic rising in her chest and she realized she was hyperventilating. The sound of her mother's wailing brought her out of her panic, or at least it redirected it.

Her mother had similar tear streaks running down her cheeks and El knew her mother was in the same boat. But her eyes fell to her mother's large stomach and she finally noticed the emerging bloodstains running down her dress. Throughout the whole ordeal, El wondered why her mother didn't take the woman's advice, why did she stop? And where was she telling her mother to go? Millions of questions like these had bounced around her brain as everything unfolded, too caught up in the horror of what just unfolded to try and answer them. But now El knew.

She knew why her mother stopped. She was in pain and she was bleeding a great deal. She scrambled to her feet to help her mother but she did not know what to do.

"Mama? Mama!"

Just as soon, her mother groaned in pain and stumbled to the ground, grasping her stomach. El immediately and tearfully knelt beside her sobbing mother, laying a shaky hand on her mother's arm.

"Mama! Mama!"

The woman wailed, clutching her stomach, completely unfazed by El's presence.

"Oh, my baby!" She cried worriedly.

"What do I do?" El asked frantically. "Mama, what do I do? Help me!"

A familiar voice echoes out, calling out fearfully.

"Terry? Terry!"

"Mama, what do I do? How do I help you?"

"Terry, where were you? Oh, my God!"

El looks up in the direction of the voice, only for everything to blur. El is transported outside, nothing she can identify but she sees the face of the familiar voice. It's Becky, she's younger and she is looking right at El.

"Oh, my God," she sniffles, looking around worriedly. "Okay, breathe. Just breathe, alright? Breathe."

She sees her mother lying on the grass yards away from a house, and now she knows she is not seeing through her own eyes. She is reliving her mother's past.

"They're on their way, okay?"

El sees her mother's hand reach for her bleeding stomach and looks back at Becky.

"They got her. [Y/m/n], they got [Y/m/n]. I have to go, I have to leave! I have to get her out, I h-have to get her out--" Terry wails in agony, clutching her stomach. "She did it. She got... him out... I need to go- AAHH"

Becky shakes her head, reaching out for her as she takes Terry's hand in comfort.

"Terry, no! Just breathe, alright? You need to breathe, I've told you, no one is coming for her, alright?"

"They wanted him, and they're gonna want Jane! Don't make me do this," she wailed, shaking her head.

She lets out another wail of agony and everything begins to fade.

"Terry!"

Everything goes black and the next thing El knows she is being wheeled through a hallway, two nurses looking at her.

"Stay with us, darling. Stay with us."

El sees her mother writhing in pain on the moving bed, clutching her stomach.

Big lights swarm her vision, and she looks around as several people in green clothing and latex gloves stand and move around her. El sees her mother groaning on the table in pain, and slowly a gloved hand brings a mask of some sort to her face.

El sees a small blade glide across her mother's skin, blood dripping from the cut and the next thing she sees is a tiny infant come into view. It cries with its small high voice, visibly animated in movement. El realizes it's her, and her mother is fighting to stay awake.

A set of eyes, all too familiar to El, come into view. The man's face is mostly covered by his mask, but El knows all too well it's the man that tortured her for years. Confirming her suspicions, the man pinches the white mask and pulls it down to his chin revealing Papa's sinister scowl.

Everything goes black once more. It is quiet, and for a moment El thinks the vision is over. But a bright light reveals itself, and the first thing El can identify is a vase of sunflowers.

Her vision plans over to see a tearful Becky. She gives the weakest of smiles and speaks, El can hear the lump in her throat as she is holding back her tears.

"Hey, there."

Her mother stirs awake on the hospital bed. She groans and looks around worriedly.

"Jane? Where's Jane?"

Becky shakes her bowed head, tears clouding her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She croaks, reaching forward and taking her hand. "Honey, she didn't make it. I'm so sorry, Ter, I'm so sorry."

Terry shakes her head, anger and panic rising in her.

"No, I saw her!" She said simply.

Becky shook her head.

"No, no, she wasn't breathing."

"She was crying!"

"No."

"Oh, God." She breathed, the memories swarming back to her. "Becky, it happened. I saw her, an-and he was there! He was there! He had her and-!"

"No," was all Becky could muster, sniffling.

Becky took a deep breath, still shaking her head, unable to meet her sister's eye right away.

"Terry, no, I'm sorry, I wish that were true--"

"--It is! Becky, I'm telling you, I saw it! We have to get her! He took her!"

"Who was there, Terry?" Becky asked, trying to calm her through her own tears.

"He took her!" She said, growing more frantic.

"Terry--" Becky warned.

But Terry had already begun to sit up despite her sister's efforts to keep her in bed.

"No, no, no! Don't take it out! Terry!"

She had ripped the IV out of her arm, and seconds later a nurse came in, holding her down.

"No, no! I need to get her! Becky, I told you!"

"Terry!"

"--I told you this would happen! I need to get her!"

Terry was soon restrained, several members of the hospital staff were pinning her down and El watched as a syringe was plunged into her skin. The scene quickly changed, she could see several papers and file folders strewn all over the floor. She could hear her mother's voice nearby.

"Three to the right. Four to the left." She mumbled.

She sees the dial of the safe click to zero, and her mother opens the safe. Inside, sitting atop several papers and envelopes is a gun. Shakily, her mother picks up the gun, she sighs as she stuffs several bullets inside.

Her mother is now in a car. She takes a deep breath, collecting herself before exiting, purse clutched tightly in her hand. She closes the car door and El sees her mother cross the parking lot to the very building she escaped from. Trailing behind a few similarly dressed women, she blends in effortlessly with them. That is until she was stopped by a security guard.

"Ma'am, can I see your badge?"

Terry stops, taking a deep breath. She turns around, pulling the gun from her bag. She aims it at the man and anybody that tried to approach.

"Stay back. Stay back!"

She sees the guard reach for his gun and she panics, pulling the trigger. The last thing she sees is the guard falling back before everything goes black once more. She can hear alarms blaring, and Terry is now rushing down a hallway, several people in lab coats jumping aside. She hops from door to door, peering inside and asking for her daughter.

"Jane? Jane?"

She looks over her shoulder and that's when she spots it. The rainbow room. A door across the hall with a small rainbow painted on the inside of the doorframe.

Eagerly, she opens the door. Inside, she finds two young girls playing, one of them she knows to be her daughter. She steps forward cautiously, but happily. Each of them give her an off look and she smiles, leaning down to her daughter.

"Jane... No!"

She is pulled away from Jane before she can grab her. She fights and kicks to the best of her ability but the men's hold on her is too powerful. The girls watch curiously as she is dragged away and Terry only fights harder.

"No! No! She's my child! No! She's my child!"

The sight of the tiny rainbow painted on the walls is the last thing in focus as she is dragged far away.

The next thing she sees comes in flashes. Hands struggling and hair whipping around as Terry struggles in the grip of several bad men.

"No! No."

El watches helplessly as her mother is roughly pinned down again once more, several straps fighting around her form. As she struggles, her head falls to the side, and there before her is Papa. Standing still, watching as she is restrained.

Her cries of protest are muffled when they place a rubber mouth guard between her teeth. A pair of gloved hands bring two metal rods to her forehead, Terry becomes increasingly frightened, like she can guess what comes next but El does not.

"Four fifty," Papa says.

One of the men nods, reaching over and setting the dial on a silver and black box. A low hum grows louder as he sets the dial, she can hear it in the rods and she knows what's coming. Terry's muffled screams cry out in protest, but it does not stop the man from flipping the switch. Her mother begins to convulse, her muscles go stiff and she writhes and shakes in pain. Her hands lose grip on the metal poles of handles at her side and she goes limp, tears in her eyes and she pants heavily.

Everything starts over in quick flashes as she stares at the ceiling. All of it, happing in short spurts.

"Terry, what are you waiting for?! RUN!"

BANG.

"Oh, my God! Okay, breathe. They're on their way."

She's wheeled through the hallway.

"Stay with us, darling."

Jane crying.

Her eyes open and El can hear her mother's voice.

"Sunflower"

"He was there!"

Nurses restrain her.

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

She unlocks the safe and shoots the gun.

She sees the room.

"Sunflower."

The dial turns.

"Four fifty."

"RUN!" A gun goes off.

"Breathe." Jane cries.

Flowers at her bedside. "Sunflower."

Gunshot, she approaches the door. "Rainbow."

The dial turns. "Four fifty."

She convulses.

"RUN!"

"Breathe,"

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

"Breathe"

"Sunflower."

"Rainbow"

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

"Four fifty."

"RUN!"

"Rainbow."

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

El rips the blindfold off her eyes in panic, her breathing heavy and uneven. As she is brought back to reality she looks up at her mother in her rocking chair. There are tears in her eyes and she is sadly uttering the same words.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left."

El feels a pair of arms wrap gently around her and she can feel her own shaking, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly. She feels a hand grab hers and she knows it's Y/n. She squeezes his hand for comfort and Y/n gently runs his thumb over the back of her hand, showing his support.

No one says anything for a while, and apart from her mother's mumbling, she sits in silence embracing the support given to her as she tries to calm her racing heart.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"There's nothing. There's nothing here." Mike says worriedly.

Mike, Will, Joyce, and Bob were all packed inside Joyce's Ford Pinto in search of where they believed Hopper's location to be.

Worriedly, Joyce spares a quick glance at Bob who holds the map in his lap. "Are... Are we close?"

"We're in the vicinity," Bob replies.

"What's that mean, the vicinity?" She asked worriedly.

"It means we're close. I don't know. It's not precise." Bob sputters, feeling the guilt and pressure weighing on his chest.

"But we did all that work!" Joyce exclaims, exasperated.

"I told you, the scale ratio is not exactly one-to-one. We needed to take--"

"Turn right!" Will shouts suddenly.

Unbeknownst to the group, Will had closed his eyes. Taking Mike's advice to heart, he took advantage of the information, his now memories, stored in his brain. Quietly, he had sat, his eyes darting back and forth sporadically under his eyelids as he searched the tunnels in his mind.

"What?"

Everyone looked to Will, even Joyce, but she made sure to return her attention to the road.

"I saw him!" Will answered.

"Where?"

Joyce began looking around, squinting around the vicinity and Will felt the panic boiling in his chest. He leans forward urgently, his words turning to a quick panicked shout as he tries to convey his words without missing the turn.

"Not here. In my now-memories"

A knowing gasp falls over Mike and Joyce, while Bob whirls around to look at Will, flabbergasted. "In your what?" Bob asks.

"Turn right!" Will yells again.

Everyone is thrown to the side of the car, Will bumping into Mike, and Bob nearly falling on Joyce as the car violently jerked to the side. A horrible screech filled everyone's ears as the tires flew across the pavement. Everything happened in a matter of seconds as the car took down a sign attached to the wooden fencing, as well as several clumps of hay that temporarily covered the windshield. Before they knew it, they were thrown forward when Joyce slammed on the breaks, stopping only inches away from the back of Hopper's car.

Joyce whirled around to look at Will, then Mike.

"Are you okay?"

Will nodded and she faced the front once more. Everyone was panting heavily still, collecting their breath.

"Superspy," Mike confirmed between breaths.

"What's Jim doing here?" Bob asked, recognizing the car in front of them. "Joyce?"

Ignoring his questions, Joyce returned her attention to the back seat and looked between Will and Mike.

"Boys, I need you to stay here."

Will shook his head frantically as she climbed out of the car.

"No. Mom, Mom, Mom, it's not safe." He called desperately, leaning over to look at her.

"That's why I need you to stay here! Stay here!" She ordered.

Slamming the car door, the boys sat in silence as they felt the car shake slightly. Bob and Joyce trudged across the field, careful not to step on the many rotten pumpkins.

"Hopper!" Joyce's worried and shrill cries echoed across the field and into the night.

Easily spotting the small crater in the dirt, Joyce descended the hole Hopper had dug and Bob followed cautiously. His arms were outstretched after Joyce who held her arms out for balance as her feet slipped across the unstable dirt.

"Hey, be careful." He shook his head, nervously spewing commentary in disbelief. "Just going down the hole."

At the bottom of the pit, a large circle roughly the size of her dining room table had caught her eye. Bridging the gaps over what normally would have been a hole in the ground, was what looked like several worms the size of large snakes. But they weren't, they were a dark purple-pink and they did twist and move, constantly interlacing themselves, seeing themselves together in a big lump, it soon became clear to Joyce what these were. Hopper's last few words to her echoed in her mind.

"Vines." She gasped.

Hesitant to break her gaze away for too long, she gestured to the shovel that stood near Bob's feet.

"Give me that."

"The shovel?"

"Yes, give me the shovel!"

Compliantly, he handed the shovel to Joyce who eagerly grabbed it tight in her hands. With all the strength she could summon, she brought the metal spade down into the vines. They shrieked and hissed. Her contact had hurt several of them. Unfortunately, this came with a splash of dark smelly goo sprayed from the vines and painting Joyce and Bob's clothes.

Cringing, but quickly recovering, Joyce began to repeatedly stab at the small colony. They hissed and squealed once more but one by one they hastily recoiled back into the dirt. Deciding enough room had been made and enough vines were gone, she threw the shovel to the side and whirled around to face Bob, a determined look in her eye.

"I need you to help me get down there." She ordered.

Growing frantic and increasingly worried, Bob hunched over slightly and waved his arms.

"Joyce, what are you talking about?"

"Bob! Now!" She roared, extending her arm.

Joyce gasped in horror when her feet hit the ground, her eyes had adjusted to the dark almost at once, and she was panting heavily at the sight around her. Not allowing herself any more time to waste, she stepped further into the tunnels.

"Hopper!" She called. "Hopper! Hopper!"

Frantically, she looked between the two directions the tunnel stretched in. She didn't know how much time she had, but she knew it wasn't much and she certainly couldn't risk checking each path. She heard a thud behind her, and she turned knowing Bob had descended. Sure enough, she wobbled slightly, catching his balance from the long drop and he collected himself.

"Joyce, what is going on? Where are we?"

Stammering, she reached out to Bob and looked him up and down, making sure he had safely made the drop. "Bob, are you okay?"

Bob's attention was pulled to his surroundings once his eyes had adjusted.

He looked around in amazement and shock.

"Tunnels. Is this Will's map?" He asked.

She had reached into his jacket pocket, knowing he always kept a small flashlight for emergencies.

"Hopper!" She called, scanning the tunnels for any sign of the chief.

"Are we in Will's map?" Bob asked once more.

Biting the bullet and picking a direction, she began navigating the tunnels, calling out for the missing man.

"Hopper! Hopper!"

"We're in Will's map!" Bob mumbled excitedly, following Joyce close behind.

"Hopper!"

"We're actually inside Will's map!"

"Hopper!"

"How did he know all this?"

They both quieted when they reached a fork in the path. Glad Bob had kept his flashlight on him, and glad she had used it, she stepped forward when the light caught a broken cigarette on the ground in front of the left tunnel.

"Bob! Over here!"

She knelt down by the cigarette, she picked it up and showed it to her boyfriend.

"It's his! He's gotta be this way! Come on."

Before he could respond, she took off down the left tunnel, mindful of her steps and the large ridges protruding from the ground. Giving one last uneasy look from where they came, trying his best to memorize the details of the path, he quickly fell back in line after Joyce.

Just outside above the entrance, Mike and Will had exited the car and slowly approached the edge of the crater.

"Do you see anything?" Mike asked. "I mean, in your now-memories?"

Will shook his head, watching the ground uneasily. The sound of several engines captured the boys' attention and they turned around to see several vehicles flood onto the field from where they had come. To his horror, Mike recognized the white vans labeled HAWKINS POWER AND LIGHTING as the very same ones that had chased him and his friends the previous year. It was a fleet from Hawkins Lab. He was suddenly grateful Y/n had left, wherever he was, he would be safe from them. At least, he hoped.

The tunnels below their feet were filled with the echoes of Joyce's cries for Hopper. The pair had reached a cavity in the tunnels, the walls had pooled out into a wide space that Bob silently identified as the x from Will's map. Joyce was much too preoccupied with the task at hand, the beam of the flashlight scouring the ground and she felt her heart leap into her throat when she caught sight of a large arm poking out from underneath a pile of vines. The pile of vines, she realized, had almost completely covered the man.

"Oh! It's his arm!"

She scrambled forward, Bob close on her heels and they collapsed to the ground beside him. Handing the flashlight to Bob, she began clawing at the vines around him, several of them breaking and snapping. Bob pointed the flashlight to Hopper's neck, the man lay fighting consciousness and Bob began tugging with his free hand at the thick stem surrounding his neck.

"It's choking him!"

Joyce redirected her efforts to the vine that struggled to tighten itself around Hopper's neck. Much to their surprise, Hopper spoke in a strained voice. "Knife!"

Joyce looked around desperately for the tool, but Bob was quick to answer. The beam fell across Hopper and next to Joyce. "It's over there!"

Sure enough, just inches away from Hopper's grasp, was the man's pocket knife.

Quickly, she got to work and it wasn't long until the vine around his neck snapped, Hopper gasped for air, and looked to his hands.

"Hands!"

Joyce cut his arms free next and he was able to fight back. He took the knife from Joyce's hands, cutting himself loose from the tendrils surrounding his chest while Bob and Joyce continued clawing at the remaining restraints. Finally, Hopper broke free with a maddened cry.

"Bastard!"

He sat up, swiping the blade across the restraints on his ankles, once more the goo erupted from the screeching vines, by now he was covered in it but he didn't give two shits. Bob and Joyce helped the man to his feet and Joyce hurriedly checked him for injuries, and she took his face between her trembling hands.

"Oh, my God. Hopper, are you okay?" She panted.

"Joyce."

"Are you okay? Are you okay?"

Hopper nodded, patting her on the arms gently and she released him. He swung his arm behind him and patted the man beside him.

"Hey, Bob."

"Hey, Jim."

The trio huddled together, backing away from the advancing vines. Joyce turned and jumped in fear when she saw a figure next to Bob, dressed in a hazmat suit.

"Oh, my God!"

"Go! Go! Go! Clear the area!" The figure ordered.

The trio did not hesitate to evacuate, heading back through the tunnel each of them had ventured. When the three were out of range, the figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end. The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

At that exact moment, Will -- who had been waiting worriedly outside as the army of men surrounded and descended after his mother and Bob -- collapsed to the ground. Mike dropped to the ground quickly after him, grasping his friend trying to get him to calm. But it was no use. Will was now lying on the grass, his entire body felt like it was on fire. His vision was as white as the white-hot searing pain running through his veins.

"Will, what's wrong?" Mike wailed, feeling helpless.

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below. As the vines screamed in agony, Will screamed too. He was now on his back, screaming violently into the night. Mike jumped back startled, watching helplessly in horror as his best friend writhed in the grass, his mouth wide open and his eyes rolled back into his head as shrieked in agony.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Will stares ahead at the map of pictures sprawled across the table before him. Per his instruction, the medical team had gathered and allowed his mother, Bob, Mike and more importantly, himself to see their record of the maps he had created. The other doctor stands with the others impatiently, finally, he breaks the silence.

"Sam, this is ludicrous."

Dr. Owens is quick to silence him.

"Just give him a moment, okay?"

"We don't have time--"

"--Hey, jackass," Hopper calls, cutting the man off. "why don't you do us all a favor and shut up, okay?"

Will rises from his seat, and Owens begins to herd the doctors away, making room for him to circle the table. His eyes studiously scan the paper trails, and it brings him to the end of the conference table. With a steady hand, he points to the pooled photographs that form the hub.

"That's it."

Owens steps forward, leaning down ever slightly and speaks gently.

"That's what? What- What's there, Will?"

A frown flickers across his face.

"I don't know." He mumbles. "I just know he doesn't want me to see there. I think it's important."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Under Owens's word, a team of the lab's soldiers and scientists gear up for their journey into the tunnels.

Elsewhere, Steve and the kids prepare for Dart's arrival. Max, Dustin, and Lucas finishing the necessary details on the bus-turned-fortress while Steve secures the surrounding area.

The quarantine doors of the lab's entrance to the tunnels open with a hiss. The team of soldiers step forward and into the affected area and prepare the elevator. Hopper and Owens watch anxiously from the other side of the glass as the team lowers themselves into the network of underground tunnels.

Steve begins the trail of gasoline, starting at the pile of bait that had been left for Dart and towards the entrance of the bus. Max finds a rusted latter in a pile of clutter, the perfect size for the bus's roof entrance.

The elevator reaches the pit of the tunnels, the grated metal floor touches the molded ground and the team disperses. One of many soldiers steadily adjusts the attached camera on their suit. Above ground and back inside the lab, one scientist adjusts the screen and assures everything is in place. He unfolds the rough sketch of the tunneled system taken from the conference room map.

"Let's see if this kid's a wizard or schizo, Doc."

Owens and Hopper shift uneasily, and Hopper runs a coarse and calloused hand across his face in his nerves. The scientist at the control panel switches on the coms, the action creates a harsh ring as the sounds adjust and he leans forward into the mic.

"First door on your right, gentlemen."

The team in the tunnels steadily gather information, their flashlights raised and weapons poised as they begin their trek.

One by one, the kids file into the bus. Steve is the last to enter, assuring everyone makes it onto the bus. He takes one last lingering look around at their work and notes their timing. The sun had just begun to set and the golden rays of sunlight had just begun to kiss the horizon, they had finished just in time.

He steps inside and the bus door slams shut, closing them all inside as they begin their long wait.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Night has fallen and with it a soft sheet of fog blankets the junkyard. Far enough from city lights, the stars are visible, hanging brightly in the night sky. His binoculars around his neck, Lucas ascends the creaky latter to the top of the bus. He positions himself on his stomach, where he can safely hide behind the barricade of tires they had procured.

Ignoring the knots that coil in his stomach from the frightful thought, he begins his shift of lookout, eyes peeled for any sign of Dart.

Inside, the others rest wait restlessly for any signs of activity. Max has occupied one of the vacant bus seats, and she sits slouched, arms folded less than impressed with the outcome of the night. Bored, she watches Steve across the bus as he routinely flips and closes his lighter, his eyes trained on it in a weak attempt to combat boredom.

Anxious to pass the time-and her curiosity peaked as to why her high senior step-brothers rival was in on the charade-she attempts to make conversation.

"So you really fought one of these things before?"

He tears his eyes away from the small flame in his hands to meet her eye. He gives her a flat smile and nods silently before returning his attention to the lighter. With one swift hand movement, it clicks shut and he returns to his physical mantra of opening and closing the small device.

"And you're, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn't a bear?"

Steve is surprised to find a weak and breathless chuckle escape him. Dustin-who had been nervously pacing the bus-stopped suddenly, turning to her with his voice raised.

"Shit. Don't be an idiot. Okay? It wasn't a bear."

Max does a double-take, surprised at the kid's actions and it was enough to capture Steve's attention.

"Why are you even here if you don't believe us?" Dustin asks shortly. "Just go home."

Her eyebrows twitch up in surprise as she rises from her seat and heads for the latter.

"Geesh. Somebody's cranky. Past your bedtime?" She quips, before disappearing up the latter.

Steve watches in bemused shock, fighting the grin that twitches at his lips as his eyes fall to Dustin. The boy is still pacing, now stewing in anger that elicits several huffs from him.

"That's good." Steve praised. "Just show her you don't care."

Dustin stops suddenly, his voice flat but upset.

"I don't."

A sly grin forms on Steve's face, and he gives the boy a wink.

"Why are you winking?" Dustin asks, annoyed. "Steve? Stop."

With effort, Steve managed to put away the smirk and the two are soon cloaked in silence once more.

Up on the bus' roof, Max has joined Lucas's company and together, the two look out on the surrounding fog.

"It's kind of awesome." She says.

Lucas looks at her in surprise, his brows furrowing into a curious frown.

"Huh?"

"The fog, I mean." She says. "It looks like the ocean."

Lucas lowers the binoculars, his gaze turning to her.

"You miss it?"

"What?"

Lucas hoists himself up, bringing himself to a more comfortable sitting position. When he looks at her, it is not hard for him to notice the change in her. She gazes out at the landscape, her eyes occasionally flickering to his but most importantly he sees the forlorn look in them.

"The ocean," he says. "The waves? California?"

Max shrugs, her face melting into a weak frown and her attention shifts somewhere else.

He smiles weakly.

"Hawkins seems pretty lame, I bet." He offered.

"No, no, no, it's not that." She says. "It's just..."

The words die on her tongue when she realizes who she is talking to-opening up to. What she is talking about. And yet, she doesn't let it stop her and she doesn't know why. Taking a deep breath, she lets the words spill out, somehow knowing this kind-hearted boy is someone she can trust completely.

"My dad's still there. So..."

"Why?" Lucas asks sadly.

Her regular composure comes back in a fleeting moment, and she chuckles dryly.

"It's this legal term called 'divorce'. She quips. "See, when two married people don't love each other anymore..."

"Yeah." Lucas mumbles.

They share a weak smile, and reluctantly Max continues.

"My mom and my step-dad, they wanted a fresh start away from him. As if... As if he was the problem, which is total bull. And things... are just worse now."

Her saddened gaze hardens on the land below them, and Lucas can tell, in this moment, she is not all there.

"My step brother's always been a dick, but now he's just angry... all the time..." She sniffles, breaking her eyes away for a brief moment. "Well, he can't take it out on my mom, so..."

"So he takes it out on you?" Lucas asks, his heart aching.

She looks at him through the tears pooling in her eyes, and she looks just as surprised that she is sharing this. Max shakes her head in hopes it will magically make everything better.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this," Max says, the lump in her throat hardening as she struggles at what to say next. "It's just... I know that I can be a jerk like him sometimes, and I do not want to be like him. Ever. I guess I'm angry, too, and... I'm sorry."

Lucas says nothing, only staring at her in astonishment that she was opening up. The embarrassment grows in her and she angrily wipes away her tears once more.

She's embarrassed by the pitiful look in his eye, and her cheeks darken, already pink from crying. Angrily, she swipes at her cheek, catching her tears and laughs dryly at herself.

"Jesus! What is wrong with me?"

Lucas is snapped out of his daze and he sits up fully, leaning forward. When he speaks, his tone is soft and urgent. Reassuring.

"Hey, you're nothing like your brother, okay?"

Max listens, taken aback as he continues.

"You're cool and different. And you're super smart. And you're, like," he throws his hands up with a gesture, smirking. "totally tubular."

His antics crack a smile on her face, and much to her surprise she feels a warmth spread in her chest. A warmth she hasn't felt in a long, long time.

"Nobody actually says that, you know."

"Well, I do now."

She nods, a sarcastic gleam in her eye.

"And it makes you seem really cool."

A thoughtful look crosses Lucas's face, and he tilts his head.

"I like talking with you, Mad Max."

"And I like talking with you, stalker." She smiles.

A wild growl echoes from the distance capturing everyone's attention. Down below, Steve and Dustin scurry to the nearest window, peering out into the fog. Hearts hammering in their chest, they scan the land for any signs of movement, their eyes peering through the grated window from behind the sheets of metal they had used to barricade the bus.

"You see him?" Dustin asks quietly.

"No."

Dustin turns, calling up to the roof.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

"Hold on!" He calls, binoculars aimed at junkyard entrance.

His view flies across the landscape in a hurry, Max watching anxiously beside him as she squints through the yard. Lucas tenses when he catches a soft and barely audible thump from the east entrance, and his binoculars land on a car in the distance he could have sworn moved.

"Shit." He breathes.

Max's gaze flickers to him for a brief moment before hastily scanning the fog once more.

"What? Did you see something?"

"I-I don't know--"

His thought is cut short by his own sudden gasp, the binoculars had found a four-legged figure stalking through the fog.

"I've got eyes!" He calls. "Ten o'clock. Ten o'clock!"

Sure enough, Steve and Dustin locked eyes on the dark figure making its way through the yard.

"There," Steve whispers, his heartbeat spiking.

"What's he doing?" Dustin asks.

"I don't know."

Lucas and Max study the horizon, and Max-who now holds the binoculars-spots a four legged creature hidden in the fog. She turns to Lucas, giving him a skeptical look.

"Wait. You sure that's not a dog?"

"What?"

A familiar hitter rings through the air, and everyone stiffens. A worried look crosses Steve's face when he sees Dart circling the bait.

"He's not taking the bait. Why's he not taking the bait?"

"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin offered.

"Maybe he's sick of cow,"

Steve backs away from the window, his heart hammering. He knows what he has to do, but he doesn't like it. Dustin looks at him worriedly, but Steve only nods before retrieving his bat and heading for the door.

"Steve? Steve, what are you doing? Steve?"

He turns, the moonlight pouring in from the roof hatch and illuminating his worried but determined features. He retrieves his lighter from his back pocket and holds it up.

"Just get ready." He says, tossing Dustin the lighter.

The bus doors open with a creak, and slowly Steve creeps outside, bat gripped tightly in hand. He takes a few cautious steps before the bus doors close with another, shrill creak. Slowly, he paces the grounds, twirling his bat in hands ready to strike. He whistles, hoping to draw Dart near but nothing happens.

"Come on, buddy."

Max climbs hastily down the ladder, joining Dustin by the window.

"What's he doing?"

"Expanding the menu."

"Come on, buddy," Steve repeats, his voice wavering. "Come on, buddy. Come on. Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise."

Max shakes her head in disbelief, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.

Dustin only grins in a mix of pride and awe.

"He's awesome."

Catching a glimpse of movement, a darkness in the fog, Steve swings his bat back and forth, causing a rift in the sea of fog. Slowly it disperses, revealing a snarling and newly evolved Dart. Roughly the size of a small wolf, he now looked more like a demogorgan than ever.

Up above, Lucas spots two more figures closing in on Steve from behind.

"Steve, watch out!" He cries.

"A little busy here!" Steve snaps.

"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!"

Reluctantly, he turns and to his horror, he sees what Lucas was talking about. Scaling the surrounding vehicles are two more Dart like creatures slowly advancing on him.

In the bus, Dustin jumps to action.

"Steve!" He rips the bus door open. "Steve! Abort! Abort!"

Dart lunges at Steve before he can make his escape. The young man is able to dodge the creature's attack, just barely, before managing to duck behind a car. He can hear rapidly approaching footsteps and he turns quickly, the sharp edges of the bat striking away another demogorgan mutant.

"Steve run!"

"Steve hurry!"

With his latest opponent still winded, it buys Steve enough time to make a break for the bus, another creature hot on his heels. He has to dive, but he just barely makes it. His toes cross the threshold just as Dustin closes the door. A loud thump reverberates through the bus and it shakes violently upon impact. The mutant Demogorgan's efforts to get inside do not cease, the horrible sound of metal being clawed chills their ears and bus door continues to move.

"Holy shit!"

"Are they rabid or something?" Max shrieks.

Steve grabs an extra sheet of metal from the windshield and places it against the bouncing door. He plants his feet against it, and the sheet begins to bounce just as so.

"They can't get in!" Lucas cries. "They can't!"

The exterior takes several blows, and the whole bus rocks back and forth with it. The sound of metal hitting metal grabs their attention from the back of the bus. One of them had broken through a gap. Steve is there in seconds, with all his might he swings the bat at the slimy arm poking through.

Dustin grabs his headset, flipping it on and screams into the mic.

"Is anyone there? Y/n? Mike? God! Anyone!"

Another break in the wall sends Max and Lucas across the bus, eliciting several horrified shrieks from each of them.

"We're at the old junkyard," Dustin continues. "and we are going to die!"

Another loud and heavy thump shakes the bus, turning Max's head. It had come from the back, but all she saw was Steve finishing off the first breach. Then another thump came, and that is when she noticed the ceiling of the bus bend under each step.

One was on the bus, and it was heading straight for the roof hatch. It grew closer with every thump and slowly she looked up. For the briefest of seconds, all she saw was the night sky. Then slowly, a large slimy head came into view. Its grey, petal-liked head opened up as it snarled at her, revealing hundreds of its thorn shaped teeth and drool dribbled down the latter before her.

Her mouth opened and her petrified screams hit her ears before she could even register she had ever made a noise. Max stumbled back, and Steve's arm immediately sweeps her aside as he took her place.

"Out of the way! Out of the way! You want some? Come get this!"

He sends the spiked bat in the creatures direction and it hunches down in an attack position. Its mouth opens once more, and it lets out an awful roar. He grips the bat tighter, ready to swing when something catches its attention. Its guard lowers and looks off at the horizon in curiosity and Steve freezes.

The beast draws back in another snarl and in the blink of an eye, a thunderous boom echoes across the valley and sends it flying with a painful shriek. With it, a violent force rocks the bus that sends everyone in a mad scramble for balance. For a moment, Dustin fears in the midst of all the commotion, he had grown faint. A gust of warm wind accompanies the tremor that he first mistakes as hot flashes. But when his ears perk, they barely catch the fading echoes of a strained scream.

Everyone has frozen, completely rooted in place in fear of another attack. Max is the only one brave enough to speak.

"What the hell was that?" She hissed.

More tremors shake the ground and several grunts and thuds are heard. Everyone scrambles to the window when they realize they are no longer the target. Dustin is the last to reach the window but he realizes exactly what it is before ever laying eyes on the sight.

"Stay back!" Cries a familiar voice. "Get. the hell. back!"

Not a single soul dares to blink, much too captivated by the change in events. Packed in against the windows, fighting for space, they stare through the grated window in complete shock and awe as Y/n Henderson battles the mutants. They almost didn't recognize him. Besides the fact he was constantly moving-barely dodging their attacks-and the powerful bursts of energy emanating from his hands, he held himself differently.

Another surprise; he was dressed in baggy, shoddy clothing. Ripped jeans two sizes too big that were buckled just above his hips, and several layered shirts Dustin nor Lucas had ever seen him wear. Everyone watched dumbfounded as he threw his hands up left and right, and with it, hot bursts of air knocking back the creatures one by one.

Exhaustion was getting to him, that much was clear. Bent forward with his hands on his knees, they could see him gulping down as much air as he could, legs wobbling. Before they could snap into action to help, Y/n rose once more with an angered grunt and held his hands out to strike.

"Steve! What the hell are we doing, we gotta go help him! Now!" Dustin snaps.

Steve nodded, a bewildered look on his face still. Nevertheless, his feet finally began to respond to his brain's signals and he headed for the door. The bus rattled with his movements and the Demogorgans stilled, looking towards the bus. The kids eyes widened and for a moment, Dustin feared they had been heard, further agitating the creatures. But much to everyone's surprise, one by one they retreated.

They circled Y/n, looking ready to pounce and several even snarled at him, but they kept moving. They ran straight for the bus and Y/n's eyes widened in fear. Without thought (or much grace in such a taxed state) Y/n ran after them, ready to protect the others. But another strange sight made him stop.

The creatures had run around the bus and his friends, completely fleeing from the scene. When he was sure they were safe, he collapsed to his knees, panting heavily.

"What the fuck just happened?" Max exclaimed suddenly.

Her words snapped everyone out of their daze and hastily they fled the bus, pooling out onto the yard and towards their saving grace.

"Y/n! Oh, my God, what the shit!" Dustin cried, running towards his brother's hunched figure, sliding onto his knees and across the grass to join his side.

Y/n looked up from the ground, color drained from his face and branching out from his eyes and lips were a million tiny spider veins. He was still panting, gasping for breath, but he was still very much aware of his surroundings.

"You're... welcome." He panted.

A squeaky, relieved laugh erupted from Dustin's throat and he tackled him in a hug, nearly sending them both to the ground. It hurt like hell with Y/n's already aching bones. But his brother was safe, and squeezing any remaining air from his lungs.

Y/n loved it.

Smiling, he reciprocated and after a moment the siblings parted.

He looked around at all the widened eyes, not at all surprised to see everyone was rendered speechless, waiting for him to explain. He licked his chapped lips and hurriedly swiped away a drop of blood from his ears as it tickled his skin.

"I'll explain, I promise." He said, slowly regaining his composure. "But somebody better tell my why the ever loving fuck those things are back?"

"Are you kidding me?" Lucas cried, breaking the brief silence hanging in the night. "You can't just pull that shit and expect us to move on!"

"Shit," Max breathes, looking at Lucas in defeat. "So, like, you really weren't kidding. I owe you an apology."

Y/n blinked rapidly in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. His wild eyes flickered to Lucas questioningly. Y/n had fully expected to have to explain himself to Max and Steve, but he never expected any of them to know already.

"Lucas, you told her?" Y/n exclaims.

Lucas shifts uncomfortably on his feet, a sign of guilt despite his strong defense.

"I had to, we needed all the help we could get!"

"Lucas," Y/n warns.

"What does it matter?" He snaps defensively. "You'd have to tell her anyway since she just saw all that!"

"Hey," Steve called.

"Well she wouldn't be here if you hadn't involved her!" Y/n snapped back, the grass beginning to heat beneath him and Dustin.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!"

Steve's voice rings out in the clearing, and finally everyone silences and looks to him meekly.

"Jesus, you shits never listen," He grumbles, running one hand through his hair. "Look, I don't know what the hell just happened, and I'd sure as hell love some answers, but right now we have a bigger problem on our hands. We've got a whole lot more of these things to deal with than we thought, and we need to know where they're headed so we can stop them."

"What are you talking about? Y/n scared them off," Dustin said.

Y/n shook his head, a quizzical look blooming on his face as he did so. It hadn't hit him until now.

"No. No, I don't think I did." He said in realization. "I mean, yeah, I got them by suprise, but I was way outnumbered. They could have put up a bigger fight, but..."

"But they just stopped." Max finished, her voice grave.

Y/n nodded, lost in thought when Dustin rose to his feet, extending his hand for his brother. Grateful, Y/n took it and wobbled to his feet, dusting off his palms and shins.

"Do you think they heard something?"

"I don't know," Steve mumbled, his bat coming to rest over his shoulder. "But whatever it is, it can't be good."

There was pause as they each looked around worriedly at one another. It was soon disturbed by Lucas, who exhaled sharply.

"Okay, seriously, I can't take it anymore!" Lucas huffed, crossing his arms. "Stop dodging the question, and tell us what the hell is going on."

Y/n looked around at the curious faces and sighed. Frankly, he didn't blame Lucas. It was a reasonable ask, but the past day and a half were weighing a little too heavy on him. And his temper.

"Christ! I will!" He said, eyes darting between Steve and Max. "But I at least have the right to know how and why they are here, seeing as they're about to hear what I have to say."

"We're low on hands, seeing as neither you, or Mike, or even Will have been answering," Dustin says, his frown slipping into a scold.

Y/n winces worriedly, taking in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

"About that..."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Several beams of light crawl across the murky ground. Apart from the soft crackling of their comms, the squelching sound of footsteps bounces around the tunnel.

"Almost there, ladies."

"Roger."

After several twists and turns, the men find themselves at their target location. The tunnels have led them to the hub, just as Will had so carefully instructed. They scan the area for any disturbances but find none. Just several other entrances to the hub, and among the small space are several giant spores that move as if they're breathing.

"Stay frosty, boys." One orders.

With great caution, they step forward, but a sudden snap echoes off the walls and halts their steps. They each stand aside to find several bones scattered amongst the damp earth.

From up above in the lab, Hopper takes note of the screen. His eyes widen in recognition and he urgently steps forward to examine the monitor further.

"Wait. That's where I was?"

"What?" Owens asks, turning.

"It's that damn graveyard." He says.

The soldiers slowly scatter across the grounds, several bones crush beneath their feet. The team's leader grips his weapon tighter and scans the area further as he speaks.

"Sir, there's nothing here."

The man at the controls turns his head to address Owens. His lips press into a firm line and he shrugs halfheartedly.

"Looks like your kid's full of shit, Doc."

Hopper and Owens wear a similar frown, and share an uneasy glance. They both know something is amiss, but they can't yet say why. Suddenly, as if to answer their suspicions, a long, high pitched growl echoes through the soldier's coms.

The men turn in circles, to their surprise, large clouds of fog begin to pool in from every tunnel surrounding them. It engulfs their feet and settles around their ankles, spiking their nerves as they hear the growling grow closer.

Elsewhere in the facility, Will lays stiffly in his hospital bed. He has paled once more and his lip quivers, his heart clenched with guilt.

Finally, he gathers the courage and strength to speak. Speak as himself. Though it is still with great difficulty, the second presence inside him fighting to keep him quiet.

"I-I'm sorry." He whimpers, though it feels more to him like he's screaming.

Joyce and the others perk up in confusion, and Joyce wastes no time in reassuring him. She gently rubs his arm, her heart is gripped by fear as she recognizes the same in her son.

"What? What do you mean, sweetie?" She cooes.

His breathing grows labored as he fights a losing battle against the tears forming in his eyes. He looks to his mother and he can feel himself drowning in guilt and regret. He shudders at the thought of what he has done and weakly he speaks through the tears.

"He made me do it." He sniffles.

Joyce rises to her feet to comfort her son, unaware of the thoughtful glance on Mike's face.

"Who? Who made you do what?"

Will's darkened pupils look up at her in fear, and he speaks through choked cries, his body shaking like a leaf.

"I told you," He says. "They upset him. They shouldn't have done that. They shouldn't have upset him."

Before Joyce can question him further, Mike looks up at his friend, completely aghast. His stomach plunges in fear and his eyes widen as everything clicks.

"The spy." He says fearfully, and he sees Will subtly shake his head. "The spy!"

Mike jumps to his feet, startling Bob and Joyce in the process and bolts through the door.

Above the tunnels in the observation room, a scientist monitoring the radar turns suddenly, addressing the team.

"We've got movement." She informs.

The man grips the microphone tightly, one eye on the radar as he attempts to alert the team.

"You've got company, fellas."

Back in the hallway, Mike crashed into the guards stationed by the closed-off hallway. He fights and kicks with all his might, his voice elevated and frightened.

"I need to get through! It's a trap!"

The guards roughly push him back where he fell into Bob's arms, who had followed Mike into the hall. He attempts to pull him back but Mike continues to fight against him.

"It's a trap! I need to warn them. It's a trap!" He screams.

The fog has now engulfed the hub, and the team's vision is blurred. Several frightened and overlapping voices spill out into the air as they form a tight circle.

"I can't see shit! Where are they? Where are they?"

"They're right on you!" The tech urges, growing more frightened.

The radar has completely lit up, dozens of shots sprinkle the area and all they can do is watch, hoping their warning is enough. The cameras are fogged, the radar their only hope at saving them.

"Wait, what?"

"What was that?"

Several horrific screeches pierce the air, barely muffled through the coms. The radio channel is soon filled with gunfire and terrible shrieks of agony, and all they can do now is watch and listen in horror, knowing there is little to no hope of saving them now.

And in a frantic effort to understand, Joyce lightly shakes Will's shoulders as he cries. She is choking back tears of her own as she does so.

"Will, sweetie, talk to me. You got to help me understand."

Will is crying freely now, and he shakes violently with sobs.

"It's too late."

The last thing the observation team sees is the only remaining soldier scurry for the camera when all goes to static. Everyone is shocked into silence, and they look around at one another fearfully. Hopper is the only one to move, he has taken sight of the nearest radar and his blood runs cold. Every dot on the map in near-perfect sync flees through one tunnel.

The tunnel the soldiers had come from.

"You should go." Will sobs, his eyes filled with fear.

Moments later, the silence in the observation room is disturbed by familiar shrill cries that echo out from where the elevator had disappeared.

Hopper turns to face the glass as do the others, and everyone is suddenly aware-far too late-that things were only getting worse. He races to window, and from there, all he can see is the seemingly bottomless pit, but the shrill cries only grow stronger.

"They're almost here," Will says to his frightened mother.

A concerned frown forms on Hopper's face as he studies the cables cautiously. The elevator cables begin to move, twist, and twirl, creating a reverberating hiss of metal curling before settling into small vibrations. And out of the depths of the pit, one by one, the mutated army of demogorgans emerge.

__________

Sorry if this chapter basically assumed what you usually wear. I normally stay away from all that, so if you usually wear that sort of stuff [I do too so I get it lol] I'm sorry! I do my best to let you guys imagine what you wear cause I always enjoy that in a reader insert. But the clothes will be explained next episode! (Personally, I just picture Y/n Henderson in clothes like max's in season 2, handmedowns and stuff since the Hendersons probably aren't the *richest* and it's just Claudia Henderson so yeah)

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The cubes of meat hit the wooden boards with a wet slap. Traveling along the abandoned tracks is Dustin and Steve, each carrying a bucket of butchered meat; their bait.

"All right, so let me get this straight," Steve sighs, looking at the boy just paces ahead of him. "You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?"

Dustin rolls his eyes, sighing irritably as he throws more bait on the track.

"All right, that's grossly oversimplifying things."

Steve shakes his head.

"I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?"

"An interdimensional slug?" Dustin smirks. "Because it's awesome."

Steve picked up his pace, making his way to Dustin's side.

"Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I... I just..." he shrugs, his lips forming a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know. I just feel like you're trying way too hard."

"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?"

"It's not about the hair, man," Steve says, shrugging once more as he lazily kicks a stray pinecone from his path. "The key to girls is just... just acting like you don't care."

Dustin looks at him curiously, not expecting the insight.

"Even if you do?"

Steve nods. "Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts."

"Then what?"

"You just wait until, uh..." he pauses to throw another chuckle of bait behind him. "until you feel it."

"Feel what?"

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?"

A spark of recognition flickers across Dustin's face, and he nods eagerly.

"Oh, like the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere--"

Steve shakes his head, an unimpressed look on his face. His head flicks to the side, sweeping away a stray lock of hair tickling his forehead.

"No, no, no, no, no. Like a... Like a sexual electricity."

A look of surprise crosses Dustin's face.

"Oh,"

The longer the day stretched on, the more Steve is bewildered at the ever-changing events he could never have foreseen. Nevertheless, he gestures to Dustin as he continues.

"You feel that and then you make your move."

There is a brief pause before Dustin asks simply.

"So that's when you kiss her?"

Steve's eyes widen, and he can't decide whether he should roll his eyes or laugh.

"No, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo."

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to he aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a..." He shrugs once more, looking back at the boy who had begun to lag shyly behind. "I don't know, like a lion."

Dustin hums thoughtfully, his gloved hand reaching inside the white steel bucket as he listens.

"But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a..."

His mind travels back in time for the briefest of moments, his heart warming at the memory of sneaking innocent moments with Nancy Wheeler. He finds himself smiling.

"Like a ninja."

"What type is Nancy?" Dustin asks, as if reading his thoughts.

And just like that, his smile falters.

"Nancy's different. She's different than the other girls."

"Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"But this girl's special, too, you know. It's just, like, something about her."

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey" Steve says, stopping them in their tracks and he turns to face Dustin.

"What?"

Steve studies the boy's body language, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?"

It is clear to Steve that Dustin has grown shocked and slightly uncomfortable.

"Uh, no. No."

His suspicious stare lingers, but he continues them down the tracks.

"Okay, good. Don't."

"I won't."

His attention returns to the tracks and laying the bait, but his thoughts continue to spill from his lips.

"She's only going to break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."

A thick silence settles between the duo once more, a common theme so far. His thoughts now louder than ever, amplified in the silent autumn air and Steve feels his pity for the boy growing. The kid's got heart, he can tell, and despite his better judgment, Steve feels a soft spot growing for him.

"Fabergé."

It's Dustin's turn to give a quizzical look, his brow quickly quirks.

"What?"

Steve gestures to his full head of hair, failing to meet Dustin's eye.

"It's Faberegé Organics. Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp... It's not wet, okay? When's its damp..."

"-Damp."

"You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray."

Steve doesn't have to see the look on Dustin's face to know the kid is grinning madly. He can hear the smirk in his voice as Dustin clearly attenps to hold back a snicker. Already, Steve is beginning to regret his decision.

"Farrah Fawcett spray?"

"Yeah, Farrah Fawcet." Steve halts once more, making sure he towers over the boy as he jabs a finger in his face. "You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson. Do you understand?"

Dustin nods, suppressing his smile as he avoids Steve's gaze.

"Yup."

A new silence blankets the air, with it a new sense of commonality, and understanding. It's comfortable. Another smirk tugs at Dustin's lips as they continue their journey, laying slabs of meat.

"Farrah Fawcett, really?"

Steve shrugs.

"I mean, she's hot."

The tension melts away in the wake of their forming bonds of friendship, they share a smile and an occasional nod. They are each surprised by the unexpected comfort each other's company brought. Unbeknownst to the pair, the farther they ventured, the closer they got to the decaying tunnels beneath their feet. And to their right, a bright yellow flag planted in the dirt, a marking made earlier by Hopper and his team that signaled rotting earth and decay.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's fingers release the button as he lets out a defeated sigh.

The moment Hopper sensed a lull-a rarity nowadays meant to be coveted-he had quietly excused himself outside. Seeing the poor kid go through what he was going through had brought out old instincts. More accurately, it was another opportunity to stretch these protective muscles he hadn't used regularly in years. It was easy to see El had been the first to bring it back out in him. Will only fueled it.

He sits now in his truck, radio in hand as he begins the transmission he hopes will reach her. First, beeping the secret code to El, letting her know it was him before beginning. But his shoulders sag, discarding that idea completely. Hopper knows what he has to say needs to be spoken aloud, not translated. Guilt has been a heavy weight on his shoulders since their fight, his inability to mend their mistakes and all the things left unsaid. His time in the tunnels crosses his mind, and how fearful he was when he believed he wouldn't make it home to her.

Hopper quickly realized it wasn't death that scared him. Of course, it was frightening, but what really bothered him-scared him-is what would happen to her if he never saw her again. Not only the way they had left things but what would become of her? How would she stay safe and who could truly know to take care of her, nurture her? The last thing he wanted was to leave her on her own, and he certainly didn't want to risk going inside and dealing with the problem at hand, without talking to her.

Or at least letting her know he was sorry.

So here he sat, his body hunched forward as he lay against the wheel, the radio grasped tightly in his hand. His voice shakey and his heart breaking. Hopper took another deep breath and let the words spill out.

"Hey, it's, uh... It's me. I know that I've been gone too long, and uh... It's-- I just, I want you to know that it's not about you and it's not about our fight. Okay?"

His garbled voice rings out in the empty cabin, no one around to hear him but the several boxes strewn around the room.

"Something came up, and I will... I will explain it all when I see you. I just... I just want you to know that I'm not mad."

His grip on the radio and his own hand grows tighter, he clutches it tightly like a lifeline. He can no longer fight the tears that threaten to spill, and his eyes go red and puffy.

"I'm just sorry. About everything."

The hot tears sting his eyes, he has to stop to collect himself as best he can but it is almost no use at all. His heart lurches, but for the first time in a long time, it is alive. He wishes with all his might that he can be there with her, comfort her. But he knows he can't. He continues to battle the enormous lump in his throat but it's winning.

"I don't want you to get hurt at all. And I don't want to lose you."

He chokes on his tears, but he feels the soft rumble deep within his chest where a weak chuckle forms. Hopper sniffles and speaks once more into the machine, unable and unwilling to fight those parental instincts kicking in again.

"Just make sure you heat up some real food. Not just Eggos. And I want you to eat all the peas, even if they're mushy and gross. And..."

He sighs, knowing more than anything he intends to, and will, keep his next promise. Jim Hopper would move mountains to keep it, and has every intention of showing her-and himself-that he will be there for her.

"I will be home soon."

The monitor clicks off and the car-and the empty cabin-go silent.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"This is him last week."

The photo on the projector slides into place and shifts into focus. A map of Will's brain, for the most part normal, but sprinkled across the grayscale map is several flurries of activity. Patches of red.

"And there are the hippocampal abnormalities we had discussed. Nothing out of line with what we've seen from others suffering from post-traumatic. But..."

The medical team is gathered in one of several conference rooms as one member of the staff tasked to the Byers case reviews with the team, including Dr. Sam Owens. The man sighs in worry, his elbow is propped up on the wooden conference table and he massages his temples worriedly as the slide changes. It's another map of Will's brain, but there is an extra flurry of activity that frightens them all.

"this is Will from last night. And as you can see, there are now abnormalities Im the limbic and paralimbic areas. And this..."

The man grows increasingly unsettled, and with great reluctance he advances the slide. Aside from a few select spots on the brain, the picture is enveloped in red. The Brian is drowning in the virus. There is more red than black.

"is from an hour ago."

Not a soul in the room remains still, every lab coat shuffles uncomfortably. And suddenly the papers in their hands have become overwhelming captivating. Attempting to hide his own discomfort, Owens turns to his team and gestures around the table.

"I don't hear any suggestions."

A colleague of his looks up from his papers, though his fingers still nervously fiddle with the edges of the files.

"We have bigger problems than the boy."

"Do we?" The man snaps.

"We can't keep delaying the burn." Another adds.

Agitated, Owens leans forward, his palm smacking the table.

"You're talking about putting... putting a Band-Aid on this." He stutters.

The first man speaks up.

"Right now, a Band-Aid is the best option."

"It's our only option."

Owens looks around the room aghast at his colleagues. They merely stared back, silently taking a stance.

"And if it kills the boy?" Owens spits.

"Then quite frankly, Sam, it kills him."

Owens stills in anger and disgust before jabbing a finger in the man's direction. "Say that to me again." He threatens.

The doctor that stands by the projector reluctantly speaks up.

"The rate this is spreading, he'll be lost by the end of the day. What we do or don't do won't change the outcome."

"We have to start the burn." The other states.

Owens takes one last look at his team, his eyes hold nothing but disgust. Huffing, he grabs his things from the table and jumps to his feet and storms for the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to think." He spits.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What the hell is taking so long?" Joyce sighs.

She and Bob sit side by side to the right of Will's bedside. Her leg bounces up and down at an almost unnatural rate and she nervously wrings her hands.

"Hey," Bob assures. "doctors take forever, always. Just try and relax. Just be patient."

He reaches forward, briefly rubbing her knee in an attempt to soothe her nerves however he can. Taking his words to heart, Joyce takes a lingering breath and she tries to calm the storm of nerves in her stomach. But with every passing second, her nerves return. With every beep of the monitor is a harsh reminder than another second has passed. Another second her boy goes unhelped.

Finally, she sighs as she shrugs the blanket off her shoulders.

"You know, I just..."

She slips through the door and marches to the end of the hall. The two guards stationed in front of the closed double doors tense as she approaches with no intention of stopping.

"Let me through. Let me through!" She orders, struggling against their arms.

"You know we can't do that."

"I need to talk to--"

"--He'll be with you shortly."

"You said that an hour ago!"

Bob soon joins her side and attempts to calm her, and across the hall staring through the door is Will. He lays perfectly still on the bed, and the heart monitor starts to race beside him. With every beep of the monitor, his vision fluctuates. He is seeing but not with his own eyes, he is a passenger in his own body and yet all he can focus on is the gun holstered in the guard's belt.

《•••》

The figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end.

《•••》

Anger. That's all he can feel.

《•••》

The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

He saw the visions. Like he was navigating the dark and cold tunnels, they never stopped moving and he knew they were out to kill.

•••

Will was panting heavily, but he slowly turned around coming face to face with the monster. It towered over the school, looking directly at Will.

《•••》

"Will?"

A warm hand touches his arm and he falls back to earth. The spike in his heart echoes in the room with the speedy beeps of the heart monitor giving him away. He hadn't registered that Mike had been speaking to him. Will looks to the boy who is watching him, concerned.

"What's wrong? Are you hurting again?" Mike asks.

"Uh..."

Will tries desperately to speak but the things he wants to say don't come. Instead, he feels the undeniable urge to sit up. He does so, and more words come to his brain but they are not what he truly wants to say. There is a wild, demanding itch in his brain that he must extinguish.

"I saw something."

The itch subsides.

Unsuspecting, Mike listens intently with worry.

"In your now-memories?"

Against his better judgment-the small, dying voice in the corner of his brain that grows small and smaller yet-he continues to scratch the itch and he nods and leans closer.

"The shadow monster." He whispers. "I think I know how to stop him."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun has reached it's highest point when Dustin arrives at the familiar landscape of the old scrapyard, Steve by his side. He wears a proud grin as Steve gazes across the yard, nodding in agreement.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, this will do." Steve begins his descend down the small hill, shedding his sunglasses. "This will do just fine. Good call, dude."

Dustin's grin widens significantly, his chest welling in pride before he falls in line with Steve. The two continue to sprinkle their bait trail behind them to the center of the yard. They dump the remanents of meat in a pile when they hear an approaching voice call out to them from the hill.

"I said medium-well!"

Dustin is relieved to see Lucas, he is beaming down at them as he sends them a wave. But his stomach plummets when he sees Max standing at his side.

The two begin their descent down the hill and Steve wonders aloud. "Who's that?"

He looks to Dustin when the boy doesn't answer, spotting the concerned and disbelieving glance he wears at the redhead. Suddenly, his mind clicks.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You told her?" Dustin hisses.

Lucas and Dustin are huddled behind one of several abandoned vehicles exchanging hushed words. After proper introductions, Max and Steve have set to work and begun to build their base.

"So what?" Lucas says.

"'So what?'" Dustin laughs dryly.

"You wanted to tell her, too."

"But I didn't, all right? You know why?"

"You're chicken?" Lucas retorts.

Dustin rolls his eyes at Lucas's weak jab, and his anger only grows.

"Because not only does that put us-and Max for that matter-in danger, but Y/n especially! You know, my brother, the escaped experiment that the government lab could snatch up on any old whim? That brother?"

"They agreed to leave him alone, remember?"

"Like their word means shit! They faked Will's death to cover their own asses for shit's sake. They don't exactly strike me as the caring, honorable type. Who's to say they won't ever change their minds and decide they want him back!"

Lucas shrinks back, regret flashing across his face as he takes in his words. He sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, alright? I didn't think about it like that, but it's already done. And for what it's worth, I don't think she's gonna tell anyone."

"You don't know she won't tell, we just met her! What if she slips up? What if she's cornered and the information is forced out of her?"

It's Lucas's turn to roll his eyes, and he scoffs.

"Dude, you're spiraling. None of that's gonna happen."

Dustin sighs and shrugs his shoulders apathetically.

"Maybe I am and maybe it won't. The point is, we all agreed not to tell her and to look for Dart."

"Who you conveniently found."

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying?"

"I'm saying you have a creepy little bond with him."

"Yeah, that was before he turned into a Demogorgan."

"And you haven't heard from Y/n?"

Dustin's face scrunches up in anger at Lucas's mention of his brother.

"No."

"Or Mike?"

"No."

"Will?"

"No."

"Hopper?"

"No! No one is around. Why do you think I'm with Steve Harrington? Something's-"

"Wrong." Lucas finishes, sighing. "I agree. Which is why need as much help as we can get."

They both hear a soft grunt from across the yard and they rise to their feet and peek through the vacant window of the car. Max is piling several sheets of metal against the bus closing off weak spots underneath.

"She didn't believe me, anyway." Lucas says.

A small smirk forms on Dustin's face.

"You probably didn't tell it right."

They share a weak laugh and rise to face each other and Lucas extends his hand.

"So, we good?"

Dustin's eyes fall to his friend's hand and he smiles weakly.

"Hey!" A loud crash behind Dustin startles them and they turn to find Steve glaring at them."Dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl? We lose light in fourth minutes. Let's go."

They only stare at him as he retreats to the bus, reluctantly following. Steve gestures for them to move, his voice increasingly rising in anger.

"Let's go, I said!"

They pick up speed and each grumble a response.

"Alright, asshole!" Dustin snaps with a whine. "God!"

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Get him out. Go! Go!"

"God! Hold on, sweetie!"

Will screams in anguish as he is wheeled throughout the lab. He clutches his arm tightly, wishing he could tear the very skin off of his flesh, he feels as if he is being cooked from the inside out. Joyce stays close behind him, her tears clouding her vision, Bob and Mike right on her tail.

When she had left the tunnels, she was faced with the horrendous sight of her youngest writhing in the grass, near unconsciousness.

"I'm right here, honey. Just hold on." She cries, her hand outstretched for him.

They reach a room faster than she anticipates and she feels herself being ripped away from her baby when he is placed onto a bed. Bob is gently pulling her back, but to her, the distance is too great. She needs to be there, show him he's there. But for now, she's stuck, watching helplessly as her son is dying.

"Vitals?"

"Heart rate 220. Temperature's 106."

Several hands are prodding and poking, adjusting and readjusting but one nurse, in particular, leans forward. Her gloved hands gently grab the sides of his face so as to grab his attention - this whole while, his eyes have been closed as he screams.

"Will," she says urgently. "where does it hurt?"

His face is pale and his eyes sunken and dark, but he manages to open them for a brief moment to speak before falling into a fit of groans.

"All over."

"She says he feels like he's burning." Dr. Owen's interjects. "Check for burns."

Will's shirt is quickly cut open allowing them to work but there is no sign of burns to be found.

"I don't see anything!"

Once again, she grabs a gentle hold of Will leaning down to get his attention as the other nurses begin to apply wires.

"Where does it hurt the most, Will?"

"Everywhere!" He screams, launching his head up. "EVERYWHERE!"

His head is thrown back into the pillow in anguish, the doctors swarm his bedside doing all in their abilities. Joyce collapses in Bob's arms, her trembling hand over her mouth and Bob finds himself unable to bear the sight.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Here we stand or here we fall

History won't care at all"

The newly formed, unlikely duo of Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington stew in thick silence, nothing but the lilting voice of Freddie Mercury's carrying through the car's otherwise silent atmosphere as Hammer To Fall plays from the radio. Night has fallen and the two ride in silence, the maroon BMW barreling down the streets of Hawkins, clouds of leaves in its path. Dustin had shared his previous encounters with his newest ally which has caused the aforementioned silence. Finally, Steve finds his voice.

"Wait a sec. How big?"

Dustin stretches out his forefinger from his thumb roughly an inch, indicating to Steve.

"First it was like that," he then stretches both hands out wider than his shoulders. "Now he's like this."

Steve rolls his eyes, returning them to the road as he scoffs.

"I swear to God, man, it's just some little lizard, okay?"

"It's not a lizard."

"How do you know?"

Dustin turned to Steve with an incredulous look, mocking his confidence and the two begin to speak over one another.

"How do I know if it's not?"

"How you know it's not just a lizard?" Steve said, his voice rising.

"Because his face opened up and he ate my cat." Dustin snapped.

Steve's eyes widened, though his face quickly contorts into an awkward expression. Willingly admitting defeat, he shrugged as he pulls into the Henderson driveway.

The two exit the car and meet at the trunk, as promised Steve opens his trunk to reveal the infamous spike bat from the previous year.

Having ditched his toxic friends, Steve had come to the Byers's house to make peace with Jonathan after their fight. Only to find Nancy there with Jonathan as they set a trap for the Demogorgon the night of Eleven's disappearance. Consequently, Steve had been thrown into the chaos in their battle with the Upside Down where he upheld the infamous bat. The less than pleasant memories came flooding back to him as he glanced down at the makeshift weapon, and he sighs.

Tossing his keys to Dustin, he grabs his bat, twirling it in his grasp and he can't help but notice the spark of adrenaline that comes with it. The feeling of the weight in his hands, knowing he needs to be prepared at any moment. And he is.

Slamming the truck, Steve follows Dustin's lead into the backyard. He finds himself standing in front of a chained up cellar and Steve waits in hushed silence for any signs of movement. The flashlight beam dances across the steel as he waits, but the pair is only met with more silence.

"I don't hear shit."

"He's in there." Dustin shrugs.

Cautiously, Steve leans forward, his bat outstretched and he gently taps the wooden end of the bat against the steel. Again, no other sounds can be heard. Testing his luck, he steps forward again and whacks the doors with the bat creating a larger sound. Still no reply.

Steve turns hotly on his heel and shines the flashlight directly in Dustin's eyes with a less than impressed look on his face.

"All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you're dead."

"It's not," Dustin argues, wincing from the harsh light.

"All right?" Steve pressed.

"It's not a prank." He urges. "Get it out of my face."

Steve reluctantly replies, lowering the flashlight and he gestures to the cellar.

"You got a key for this thing?"

The cellar doors are ripped open with an ear-splitting squeak and Steve peers deep into the darkness, his bat at the ready. Dustin stands behind him, flashlight in his shaky hand and Steve gladly takes it. He shines it further into the cellar, the milky white beam reached the bottom of the steps and dances across the cold, grey concrete.

"He must be farther down there," Dustin says uncertainly. "I'll stay up here in case he tries to escape,"

Steve looks up at the boy with a deadpan expression before back into the dark abyss with a supposed cat-eating monster. He shakes his head, unable to believe the dramatic, unforeseen turn his day has taken.

He sighs once more, not bothering to hide his unease as he looks from the boy to cellar once more.

"You have a brother, don't you? Why isn't he helping out?"

Dustin shifts uneasily.

"Yeah, about that," Dustin says, causing Steve to sigh. "He's with Byers. Also, he has no idea I found Dart after we lost him at school, or that our cat's dead so I'd rather not lead with that..."

"Jesus, I- Fine. Whatever, let's just get this over with."

Both bated breath, Steve descends into the darkness, his bat gripped tightly in hand, flashlight in the other. His body is tense and he is ready for any sign of movement. He reaches the last step, and his flashlight quickly scans the area though it finds nothing but a metal chain hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. Deeming it safe, his guard lowers ever so and he steps forward turning on the light, the chain dangles around his head and for one blissful moment, he finds nothing but a regular cellar.

That is until his eyes land on the peculiar sickly pale green shape on the floor before him. In the dark, his vision had mistaken it as an old plastic grocery bag. But now, with the light illuminating the surface, it had a bright pale sheen and he could see it certainly wasn't anything normal. Extending the ends of the bat, the nails hooked into the strange wet substance and held it up to examine it.

The beam of the flashlight shone through the substance. After moments of contemplation as he watches it drip with mucus-like slime and is met with a horrid stench, he realizes it had once been skin.

His gaze wandered to a spot on the wall just beyond where he had found the shredded skin and he looked on in shock, his stomach plummeted as if he had dropped ten stories.

From above the surface, Dustin waited less than patiently, growing nervous for the Harrington boy.

"Steve?" He called uneasily.

The cellar light had been turned on but no other sign of life had shown itself. Fear crept into Dustin's heart and his unease festered.

"Steve, what's going on down there?" He asked a little louder.

Dustin jumped back in surprise when an unexpected beam of light hit his face so suddenly. His heart leaped into his throat and he was thankful he hadn't screamed. Behind the beam of light was Steve, looking up at him worriedly.

"Get down here." He ordered.

His voice sounded shaky, a factor in Steve that did not comfort Dustin at this moment. But reluctantly, he obeyed. Dustin descended the cellar steps to find a familiar substance dangling from the spiked bat, and his stomach twisted into knots.

"Oh, shit."

Without a word, Steve pulled the bat away and shone the flashlight towards the far corner of the cellar revealing his second discovery. A large trail of slime was strewn across the concrete leading to the far left corner of the cellar. Dozens of discarded bricks, broken remnants of splintered wood sprinkled the area as well as of mounds of dirt all flowed in from the gaping hole in the wall where Dart had escaped.

"Holy, shit!"

The duo stepped forward, bending down to examine the tunnel. The small beam of light was redirected once more and the two gapped at their microscopic view of the infinite tunnel that wound its way throughout all of Hawkins.

The currently vacant Byers living room is bathed in the pale moonlight, the only evidence of life is Will's abandoned maps that travel through the house like veins. An abandoned glass of water on the kitchen counter vibrates in only the slightest as the growing rumble of engines surrounds the house. A fleet of men flood routinely from the identical swarm of HAWKINS WATER AND ELECTRIC vans and storm the Byers porch. Within moments, the house is flooded with agents, dozens of flashlight beams dance across the floors, walls, and ceilings as they dissolve across the perimeter.

Light switches, remotes, doorknobs - apart from the front door - go untouched avoiding any trace they were ever here, only doing that which was necessary with gloved hands. They were quick and thorough, and apart from the brief but blinding flashes of cameras documenting the maps and the fleet of flashlights, the house is illuminated only by the moons soft rays. A pair of hands confiscate the videotape from Halloween night, that had previously remained tucked into the player, while another takes several photos of Will's drawing of the shadow monster that sits in his room, undisturbed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will's small and weakened frame lays unconscious on the medical bed. The color in his cheeks that gave him his usual warm and pinkish hue withered and was almost nonexistent, his skin now paled a sickly white and covered in a sheen of sweat from the long night behind him. Bob and Mike sit at his side, their eyes trained on him for any signs of disturbance as his body shakily rises and falls in a feeble attempt at stabilizing.

Meanwhile, Joyce sits at the head of the conference table among the lab's finest doctors and agents. She - much like Bob and Hopper - had traded their regular attire for scrubs during the night and she is in a heated discussion with Owens and his team.

"That thing, it..." she gestured over her shoulder. "It did something to him."

"Okay," Owens thoughtfully scratches his head, his mind scrambling to catch up and understand the situation. "And these now-memories, as you call them, how long has he been experiencing them?"

The impatience grew in Joyce at the repetitive question and fights a huff.

"I told you, since Thursday. Since I found him in the field."

"And why wasn't he brought in?" Asked an unnamed scientist to her right.

Her sharp and hostile gaze snaps to the man and she gives him a cynical glance, her palms hitting the surface of the wooden table.

"I have been bringing him in, and what have you done?" She spits coolly. "Nothing. Nothing!"

Owens nervously jumps in with an unintended stilted tone, his movements stiff, all in a pathetic and useless attempt to minimize her concerns.

"These are new symptoms, Joyce."

Joyce shook her head profusely, jabbing her finger in Owens's direction. Her promise to Will burning protectively in her heart.

"No. No, he has been telling you over and over that something wrong, and you said it was all in his head."

Owens squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his composure cracking under Joyce's fire. His mouth opens and closes, though his voice fails him.

"You said, 'Be patient.' Those were your words."

As she leans back into her seat, shifting restlessly Owens finally finds his voice. Her adrenaline and unease find a small and temporary outlet as her fingers drum against the wooden conference table.

"I understand that you're upset, okay? I get it. And I would be, too, if I were in your shoes." Owens gestured around the room. "But we are all in the same boat here, and I just need you to try--"

"What? Stay calm? Trust you?" Joyce looks around the table in disgust before shaking her head. "No, I want him transferred to a real hospital."

Dr. Owens's eyes shift to the papers in his hands, and while his voice is firm his nervous actions give away his discomfort.

"Well, you know that's not possible."

Another doctor joins in much to Joyce's bewilderment and chagrin.

"He really will get the best treatment here, Mrs. Byers."

"He really will." Another interjected.

She looked between them, utterly baffled, unable to believe the blinding negligence in themselves. She merely scoffs.

"And what are you treating him for, exactly?" She shrugs exasperated when she is met with no response and she rises to her feet. "Can anyone tell me what's wrong with him? Can a single person in this room tell me what is wrong with my boy?"

No one spoke, and she was met once more with dozens of eyes that avoided her gaze. Several men squirming uncomfortably in their seats and it only fuels the flames in her chest and her voice rises with her anger.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BOY?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Oh, He-Man, thank you for saving my life. What strong muscles you have."

Erica smirks at the dolls in her hands as she is splayed out across her bed. In one hand, her favorite Barbie doll, Christie. In the other, Lucas's He-Man action figure she had lifted from his room. She brought the two together in an embrace, their plastic faces touching as she made exaggerated kissing noises. The door was thrown open by Lucas and she looks up at him distasteful. His eyes fall to the doll in his hands and he glares at her.

"I knew it!" He scoffs, stomping in and ripping He-Man from her hands.

"Hey! They're in love!"

Lucas turns in her doorway, rolling his eyes.

"No, actually they're not. They don't even exist on the same planet."

"Aren't you too old to be playing with toys?" She quips.

Words die on Lucas's tongue and another rough sigh escaped him. He shakes his head, ridding himself of the comment.

"That... That's not the point. The point is to stay out of my room." He fires back, marching off into the hallway.

Erica calls after him, unfazed.

"Then tell your little nerdy friend to shut his mouth."

Lucas backpedals and returns to her doorway, giving his sister a quizzical look.

"What are you talking about?"

Erica merely shakes her head slightly and exaggerates Dustin's previous cries.

'''Code red, Lucas. Code red. Code red.' Bunch of nerds."

She rolls her eyes, reaching back for a nearby stuff animal, missing the horrified look on Lucas's face. He runs quickly to the end of the hall, not caring if he crashes into his door. He grips the doorframe as he scans his room, a frightened mantra slipping from his lips.

"No, no, no, no, no, no."

Sure enough, on his bed is his walkie, completely shut off. He rushes to his bed, flipping the dials and extending the antenna as quickly as he can.

"Dustin!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The steel buckets hit the concrete with a decisive smack, and a container of gasoline is placed next to them. Dustin and Steve unload the trunk of monster hunting supplies they had scraped together for their plan against Dart. They had procured buckets and buckets of raw meat from the butcher shop and managed to gather the other supplies from Steve's garage. Dustin's comms come to life and immediately he recognizes Lucas's voice.

"Well, well, well, look who it is." Dustin feigns a smirk, gloved hands on his hips as Steve continues to unload the trunk behind him.

"I'm sorry, man." Lucas sighed. "My stupid sister turned it off."

"Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again, he escaped, and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgan."

All Lucas could do in that short moment was blink as he processed the truckload of information.

"Wait. What?"

"I'll explain later," Dustin answered. "Just meet me and Steve at the old Junkyard."

Another wave of shock hit Lucas abruptly.

"Steve?"

"And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket."

"Steve Harrington?"

Behind Dustin, Steve had finished packing his bag and he closed the trunk. His voice barely echoed through the mic and into Lucas's ears, but it was undeniably Steve's.

"All right, let's go."

Dustin grabs the remaining bucket - the other in Steve's hand - and quickly falls in line.