Chapter Text
Mike stepped forward, finding his voice. “Eleven.”
She met him and folded into him as a small, surprised sob escaped her lips. “Mike!”
Max turned to Lucas and Dustin. “Is that...” she began in a soft voice as both boys nodded.
Josefina watched with quiet curiosity, realising this girl was the one Dustin had mentioned earlier with psionic powers that had saved the group last year. The number of histories intersecting in the room being stitched together by chance and trauma made her brain spin.
Mike pulled back, keeping his hands on Eleven as if he were afraid if he let go, she might disappear. “I never gave up on you. I call you every night. Every night for—”
“Three hundred fifty-three days,” Eleven finished for him.
Mike’s jaw slackened for a moment. “I heard,” she added, meeting his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”
Hopper pushed through, his face hard. “Because I wouldn’t let her.” He stepped forward, making Mike move aside. “The hell is this? Where you been?”
Eleven looked up at him, her expression defiant. “Where have you been?”
Hopper’s face softened; he wrapped her in a hug that was both an apology and stubborn protectiveness.
Mike’s hurt cracked into anger. “You’ve been hiding her! You’ve been hiding her this whole time!” He hit Hopper with a single impulsive strike.
“Hey!” Hopper grabbed his arm, steadying both of them. “Let’s talk. Alone.” He shepherded Mike away down the hallway toward the bedrooms; their muffled conversation followed.
Eleven remained in place, trying to compose herself while eyes assessed her like pieces of a puzzle. Lucas and Dustin exchanged a glance and then moved to her side, the three of them collapsing into an embrace.
“We missed you!” Lucas said into her shoulder.
“I missed you, too,” she answered.
“We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin pulled back with a grin.
Eleven studied Dustin for a long moment with an odd, reverent curiosity before she reached out to touch his mouth. “Teeth,” she observed.
Dustin blinked, “What?”
“You have teeth,” she said.
“Oh. You like these pearls?” he purred, which made Eleven’s face slide into an expression between shock and confusion. Lucas shook his head at the exchange.
“Eleven?” Max took a tentative step forward, hand extended. “Hey. Um, I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The offered hand hung there for a second before Eleven coolly flicked her eyes down and pushed past, making her way to Joyce.
Joyce embraced Eleven tightly, “Hey. Hey, sweetheart,” she sobbed, rubbing her back. Eleven stepped back after a minute, steady and small. “Can I see him?” she asked.
Joyce nodded and led her down the hallway. Max, left standing with a hurt that furrowed her face, looked to Lucas for comfort. He shrugged, low-voiced. “It’s okay. She just doesn’t know you yet.”
Max muttered, almost to herself, “I guess that’s one way to frame it,” but the dejection was obvious in her shoulders.
Nancy and Jonathan lingered near the kitchen, whispering to one another. Josefina sat on the couch, elbows resting on her knees, palms pressed to her face. A dull pressure pressed behind her temples. It felt like she was living a bad dream. Steve plopped down beside her, exhaling softly, eyes glued to the dead demodog on the floor as if it were a more manageable subject than what everyone else was doing.
Joyce’s voice floated down the hall as she and Eleven entered the kitchen. “He told us to ‘Close Gate’...does that mean anything to you?”
Eleven responded hesitantly. “Yes.”
“You opened a gate before, right?” Joyce pressed.
“Yes,” Eleven said again, and her voice strengthened. Joyce’s face went brittle with a mix of hope and fear. “You think it’s the same one? Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”
Eleven’s voice hardened, “Yes.”
Hopper appeared in the doorway, Mike at his side. “Absolutely not.” he said before anyone could breathe.
“It’s the only way,” Eleven said, staring him down with a stoicism that made Hopper’s jaw clench. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “I don’t think you understand...”
Curiosity had won; the whole house had drifted into the kitchen to see how the conversation would play out.
Hopper explained in rough words what most feared, “It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot. And, I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”
“Demodogs.” Dustin supplied.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, uh, demodogs. Like demogorgon and dogs. Like you put them together, it sounds pretty badass—”
“How is this important right now?” Hopper interjected Dustin.
“It’s not. I’m sorry.” He admitted hurriedly.
“I can do it.” Eleven insisted, returning the focus.
“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper shot her a look.
“I’m hearing you. I can do it.”
“Even if El can, there’s still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies.” Mike added a jab of logic.
Max absorbed the implication, “I thought that was the whole point.”
“It is,” Mike answered, “but if we’re really right about this...I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army...”
“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas realised out loud.
“Closing the gate will kill him.”
Joyce went pale at Mike’s words and smothered a sound as she shuffled toward Will’s room. The rest followed instinctively. The curtain at the window fluttered in a cold draft.
“He likes it cold.” Joyce said softly.
“What?” Hopper frowned.
Joyce answered, “It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” She went over to shut the window. “We keep giving it what it wants.”
Nancy clicked a pattern into place, “If this is a virus, and Will’s the host, then...”
“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable,” Jonathan finished.
“So if he likes it cold...” Nancy continued.
“...we need to burn it out of him.” Joyce’s voice went tight at the implication.
Mike’s eyes flicked over to the group. “We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.”
Dustin’s solution was simple, “Yeah, somewhere far away.”
Hopper paused, then, with a certainty that was half hope and half command, “I know a place. It’ll work.” He bent to scoop Will gently from the bed, steadying him as he carried him out of the bedroom toward the front door.
Jonathan turned to his mother as they started to follow Hopper, “We’ll need heat. A lot of it.”
Nancy, already thinking ahead, spoke up, “There were old heaters in the shed. I’ll check.” She hurried toward the backdoor, Steve fell into step behind her without a word.
The rest of the group lingered as if they were waiting for the next steps; the silence almost thick with dread and unspoken weight of what had to be done.
23:37
A short time later, Nancy was climbing into the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car, her expression tight with reluctance. Joyce was already sitting in the back with Will. Hopper lingered outside his truck, puffing on a cigarette. On the porch, Eleven and Mike stood close together, the others—Max, Lucas, Dustin, Steve, and Josefina—watched quietly from behind.
Mike’s voice cracked as he spoke, low and desperate. “Just be careful, okay? I can’t lose you again.”
Eleven shook her head firmly, “You won’t lose me.”
“Do you promise?”
“Promise,” she whispered, leaning in, as if she was about to kiss him.
“El! Come on, let’s go. It’s time.” Hopper’s voice cut sharp through the moment. He took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it aside.
Eleven gave Mike one last, lingering look before pivoting quickly and running toward the truck. The door slammed shut, and moments later, the two cars rolled down the driveway. Everyone on the porch stood still, watching the red taillights fade into the dark.
“C’mon, everyone back inside...” Steve commanded as he opened the front door and held it open for the kids to file through.
Josefina sat on the faded orange couch, not bothered by the cold night air.
Steve lingered at the door; hand braced on the frame. He tilted his head, “Hey, uh, that means you too...”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I need some air, clear my head, it’s too loud in there...”
Steve lifted his brow, his mouth starting to form a protest but decided against it. He studied her carefully for a beat, then gave a small nod and went back into the house.
Josefina was unsure how long she had been sitting out there. Her body felt numb to the cold. She hugged her knees to her chest, staring aimlessly out into the dark yard. The muffled voices and arguments from inside the house faded into background noise, drowned out by the storm of her thoughts.
The information replayed over and over: the Upside Down, the Gate, Eleven, and the revelation that her father had been a part of it. And now he was...gone. She felt as if she was standing on the edge of something vast and unknown.
The sudden roar of an engine broke her trance. Headlights cut across the yard, blinding her until she raised a hand to shield her face. Heart quickening, she scrambled to her feet.
The car revved once more before shutting off. The headlights died, leaving her in the pale wash of moonlight. From the driver’s side, Billy Hargrove emerged, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He laughed under his breath, exhaling smoke into the night air.
“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes locking on her. “If it isn’t the virgin bride. Tell me—who’s the lucky groom?” His tone dripped with suggestion.
Josefina frowned, pressing herself against one of the porch posts, heat rushing to her cheeks despite the chill. She did not answer as she stared out at him.
The front door opened suddenly, and Steve walked out.
Billy let out a husky laugh. “Figures. Had to be you, Harrington.”
Steve, who had missed the first half of the jab, frowned in confusion. He stepped past Josefina toward Billy. “What are you doing here?”
Billy tossed his jacket carelessly into the car and slammed the door shut. “I’d ask you the same thing but...hooking up at a stranger’s house? That’s low, even for you.”
Steve brushed the remark aside, “Yeah, okay. Cut the bullshit. What do you want?”
Billy slipped the cigarette between his lips. “Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”
“Huh. That’s weird,” Steve shot back flatly. “I don’t know her.”
“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch,” Billy prodded.
“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”
Billy sighed, pulling the cigarette away. “You know, I don’t know, this...” he clicked his tongue. “This whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
Steve narrowed his eyes, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
Billy took another drag, smoke curling from his smirk, “My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day. And then I find her with you in a stranger’s house. While you and the bride over there play what—mom and dad?”
Steve let out a low chuckle, clearly refusing to give in to Billy’s antics. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?’
Billy’s smirk widened, tongue running across his teeth.
Steve’s tone hardened. “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”
Billy pointed his cigarette toward the house. “Then who is that?”
Steve glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of four small heads duck hastily beneath the window. “Oh shit. Listen—”
Billy shoved him hard.
Steve stumbled back, hitting the ground with a groan.
Josefina gasped, startled, as Billy loomed over Steve.
“I told you to plant your feet,” He sneered.
Steve tried to push himself up, but Billy’s boot connected with his stomach, knocking the wind from him. He curled over with a loud groan.
Without another word, Billy stormed up the porch. His shoulder knocked Josefina aside, sending her staggering into the post. He yanked the door open and went inside with a vengeance, slamming it shut behind him.
Josefina forced herself to swallow as she looked down and saw Steve on the ground, recovering from the blow. She moved toward him. “Steve?”
He sucked in a sharp breath as he stood upright, testing his footing. “I’m good. Just—just give me a second.”
For a beat neither of them moved; muffled voices from inside the house had grown louder.
Steve winced and edged for the door; Josefina hesitated before she followed. Her hand brushed against the porch post as if she needed the grounding before crossing the threshold.
Billy was hunched over in front of Lucas, hands on both of his knees as he let out a growl. “You are so dead, Sinclair!” he snarled, “You’re dead—”
Steve’s hand closed on Billy’s shoulder and spun him. “No—you are.” His punch landed hard across Billy’s jaw.
Billy stumbled backwards with a stunned expression.
“Steve!” Max gasped as Dustin and Mike ushered Lucas out of the way.
To relieve the sting, Steve shook his wrist out while his other hand raked fingers through his hair.
A maniacal laugh started to bubble up and curdle from Billy, “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” he crowed. “I’ve been waiting to meet this ‘King Steve’ everybody’s been telling me so much about.”
Steve leaned forward and pressed two fingers into Billy’s chest. “Get out.”
Billy reacted like a cornered animal with one quick swing, but Steve ducked before it could land. Instead, Steve recoiled and threw another punch at Billy, who toppled into the kitchen table.
“Yo! Kick his ass, Steve!” Dustin screamed.
Mike added, “Get him!”
Josefina stood watching with wide, numb eyes as Mike and Dustin continued to spur the chaos on.
Billy laughed as if pain amused him, even as Steve’s fist connected again, he only staggered back toward the kitchen sink. He threw his head back with a wild cackle as one hand fumbled behind him until it found a plate. He brought it down hard across Steve’s head. The shatter was sharp. Blood feathered from the split on Steve’s forehead, trailing down his face in a slow, deliberate line.
“Holy shit!” Mike grimaced. Josefina gasped while Max screamed Billy’s name.
Billy lunged again, shoving Steve into a shelved wall. He waited just long enough for Steve to groan and try to steady himself before seizing him by the shoulders. “No one tells me what to do!” he barked, the headbutt that followed sent Steve sliding across the living room floor.
Billy howled, “Whoo! Get up!” He was on Steve like a cat on a mouse. He began to pummel Steve’s face; his fist rained down like thunder.
“Steve! Fight back, man!” Mike yelled.
“Come on!” Lucas’s voice was half hope, half panic, “Get up!”
“Guys! Stop him!” Max shrieked.
Josefina stepped back; the sight of Steve beneath Billy’s weight caused a heat to stir inside her. Tears started to pool. She shut her eyes and began to whisper as if she was praying, “Ya basta! Por favor, déjalo...”
Billy did not stop. His fist slammed into Steve’s jaw, knuckles cracking loudly. Steve’s head lolled back against the hardwood.
Max screamed, “Billy, stop! That’s enough! You’re gonna kill him!”
The overhead lights hiccupped and then began to pulse. The television crackled to life with a screeching hiss. The screen fuzzed grey.
Billy’s fist jerked back as if someone had seized it mid-swing. His nostrils flared and his face broke into a new expression as if someone had punched him in the chest. He staggered back and hit the wall with a grunt.
A collective gasp hung in the air.
Billy’s breathing hitched; his face paled. He did not get up; just stared out at something the rest of them could not see. His mouth opened but only a small whimper came out, “No. No, no, no...”
Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all shared looks with one another before they stared out at Josefina.
She stood still, tears streaking down her cheeks, a thin line of blood drooled from her nose onto her upper lip. She blinked twice, coming to her senses once she felt the stares. “I...I didn’t mean...” she stammered, voice thin. “I only wanted him to stop—” Her voice trailed before her knees gave out and she collapsed hard on the rug. The television snapped off on its own.
“Holy shit!” Dustin breathed, a repeat that had become a hymn in the room.
“Did she just...” Lucas muttered.
“There are others like El?” Max asked with a shocked tone.
Mike sprinted to Josefina to see if she would wake up before he pushed her sleeves up, checking her wrist.
Dustin stepped over, “Mike, what the hell are you doing?”
“Checking for a tattoo,” he stated, as if that would make sense of anything.
“You think she’s part of the lab?” Lucas approached slowly.
“How else does she have powers?” Mike stared up at his friends, “Plus, didn’t you say her dad worked there?”
Lucas sighed, “Don’t you think El would have recognised her?”
Max frowned down at Josefina, “What’s wrong with her?”
“She must be drained like El used to...” Dustin offered.
“Whatever,” Mike huffed, breath shallow, “We have bigger things to worry about right now—we’ll figure this out once we help save Will. Let’s just get what we need, load her and Steve in the car, and get to the tunnels...”
“Yeah, genius plan, Mike—except for the part where none of us can drive!” Dustin scoffed.
Max pursed her lips and glanced over at Billy, who was muttering under his breath, eyes unfocused. She stared at him like he was a loaded gun that had finally misfired. She crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “Billy?” she said softly.
He blinked, fluttering his thick lashes, recognising his name. “M-Max?”
Maxed leaned in, “From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”
Billy stared at her as if she was speaking another language.
“Do you understand?” She repeated in a low voice, “Say you understand...say it.”
Billy began to nod his head; his tough guy mask was gone. “I...I understand.”
Max’s eyes were like blades as she whispered, “I’m not scared of you anymore.” She reached into his pocket; he did not object as she pulled out the car keys. She stood and turned back to the others, holding them up, “Let’s get out of here.”
00:32
A small grunt escaped Steve’s lips as he started to come to. His ribs felt bruised and his face hurt like hell. He pried swollen eyes open; everything was blurry. His mouth tasted like blood and his head throbbed in time with his confused thoughts.
He groaned softly, head lolling to the side when a scent hit him—warm, floral, familiar. He blinked harder and saw a mess of dark hair resting against his shoulder. Josefina. His body stiffened for half a second, caught off guard. She was wedged awkwardly between him and Mike. Why were they in the back of a car?
“J-Josie?” his voice came out hoarse, gravel scraping against his throat.
Josefina stirred, lifting her head as she had been roused from a nap. Her pupils were blown wide. “O-oh, s-sorry...” she mumbled, shifting her weight back against Mike.
Mike made a face and nudged her away.
Steve tried to sit up, wincing at the ache in his body. A wet sound—liquid sloshing—made him glance over. Someone was holding an ice bag against his temple.
He reached up instinctively.
“Hey, no, don’t touch it,” Dustin said quickly, grabbing Steve’s hand, “Hey, buddy...shh. It’s okay. You put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but Josie stopped him with her mind. You’re okay.”
Steve tried to make sense of the words. “Wha—what?” His voice was sluggish, dry. He turned toward Dustin, not sure he had heard right, then rolled his gaze forward, taking in the scene.
Up front, Lucas sat in the passenger seat, a map spread across his knees. “Okay,” he said, tracing a route with his finger. “You’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left of Mount Sinai.”
Steve’s eyes darted to the driver’s seat causing him to freeze. “What’s going on? Whoa-hoa-hoa. Oh, my God!” His stomach dropped, “Max?”
“Steve, relax. She’s driven before.” Dustin attempted to console him.
“Yeah,” Mike snorted, “in a parking lot.”
Lucas twisted around, “That counts!”
Steve’s breathing quickened. “Oh, my God...” he ran a hand through his hair, still sticky with blood.
“They were gonna leave you behind,” Dustin put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve’s head snapped toward him. “Nooo—oh my god!”
“I promised that you’d be cool, okay?”
But the car was speeding up. Steve could feel it. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa—what’s going on?”
Max’s jaw tightened. She pressed harder on the gas.
Josefina groaned, cursing under her breath in Spanish.
“Oh, my God,” Steve rasped. “No! Whoa! Stop the car. Slow down!”
“I told you he’d freak out,” Mike looked over at Dustin.
“Stop the car!” Steve shouted.
“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max screamed, gripping the wheel.
Lucas pointed frantically at a road, “Oh, wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!”
“What?”
“Make a left!”
“Shit!” Max yanked the wheel. The car swerved violently, clipping a mailbox with a metallic crunch.
Everyone screamed. Mike cursed, Lucas let out a high-pitched squeal, and Dustin yelped.
Steve cried out, clutching Dustin’s arm like a lifeline. Josefina flailed, searching for something to anchor herself against.
The car bounced down a dirt road, wheels spitting gravel, before slapping into a pumpkin-shaped sign reading Merril’s Farm. The car plowed through it and skidded to an abrupt stop causing everyone to jerk forward.
“W-wh-w-hello!” Steve grabbed the back seat to steady himself, eyes wide.
Mike stared ahead in awe. “Incredible!”
Max put the car in park. “Told you. Zoomer.”
The kids wasted no time; the doors flung open, and Max, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin were retrieving gear from the trunk that they needed to set their plan in motion.
Josefina crawled out from the driver’s side, bracing herself against the car frame. She watched the others with a drained expression—exhausted before the mission had even begun. Max came over and handed her a set of goggles, gloves, and a bandana.
“Here,” Max said, “Put these on.”
Josefina hesitated, then took them with a quiet nod.
On the other side of the car, Steve tumbled out in an ungainly heap on the ground. “G-Guys...” he groaned, starting to steady himself upright against the car, using the door as a brace. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous. “Oh, no. Guys...”
When his eyes landed on Mike carrying a gas can, his stomach twisted. “Hey, where do you think you’re going? What are you, deaf? Hello?!” He let out an exasperated sigh, “We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear. Hey, there’s no chance we’re going to that hole, all right?”
Lucas and Max walked past him as if he was not there.
He stumbled over to the trunk where Dustin was standing and grabbed the gear from his hands and tossed it back into the trunk, “This ends right now!”
Dustin kept his voice steady but firm, with a pragmatic tone, “Steve. You’re upset; I get it. But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So... keep us safe.” He shoved a backpack and the nail-studded bat in Steve’s direction.
Steve sighed, defeated. He placed the items on the roof of the car and started to slip on the makeshift protective gear as he cursed under his breath.
Meanwhile, Josefina knelt beside Mike, helping him secure the rope to the trailer hitch on Billy’s car.
“Uh, thanks...” Mike said awkwardly, tugging on the knot to make sure it was tight before dragging the line toward the dark opening in the earth. Max, Lucas, and Dustin were already waiting, flashlights in hands.
One by one, they descended; Steve was the last to go. He shimmied down the rope, a free-fall feeling made his stomach churn before his sneakers hit the wet ground. The size of the vine covered tunnel amazed him.
“Holy shit...” Steve whispered. Even with the bandana over his face, the air reeked. The thick particles floating around shimmered under the flashlight beams.
Mike was studying a crumpled map, “Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s this way,” he said, pointing his flashlight forward.
“You’re pretty sure,” Dustin challenged, “or you’re certain?”
“I’m one hundred percent sure,” Mike insisted, “Just follow me and you’ll know.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey, hey. I don’t think so.” Steve stepped forward, “Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” He snatched the map from Mike. “From here on out, I’m leading the way. Come on, let’s go.” He moved ahead, and the rest followed as they started to weave deeper into the maze. “Hey! A little hustle...”
The tunnels seemed endless with each turn the same as the last.
“God,” Mike muttered.
“What is this place?” Max questioned aloud.
Steve checked the map and called over his shoulder, “Guys, come on. Keep moving.”
Dustin stopped in his tracks, staring up at the ceiling. Josefina, distracted by her slipping bandana, collided into the back of him.
“¿Qué carajo?” she complained in a hushed tone.
Before either could react, a pod above them split open with a wet pop. Spores exploded into the air, coating everything in sight.
“Ahh! Shit!” Dustin yelped.
Josefina stumbled backwards, gagging, the air thick and burning in her throat.
Dustin flailed on the ground, panicking. “Shit! Shit! Help! Help! Help!”
Mike came running back with the others, “Dustin?!”
“Josie?” Max gaped.
Steve shoved past the others. “What happened? What happened?”
“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!” Dustin sounded almost hysteric.
Josefina was doubled over, dry heaving, before vomiting onto the slick ground.
“Oh, shit...” Steve choked, holding his flashlight up.
After a long, wet, dramatic cough, Dustin looked up at the others. “I—I’m okay...”
Josefina wiped her mouth with the back of her gloved hand. “¡Este pinche lugar de mierda!” she nearly shouted in frustration before pulling her bandana back into place.
“You alright?” Steve asked cautiously.
“I’m fine!” she snapped harshly.
Steve did not push; he could tell she was wound up. He nodded and turned back. “C’mon, let’s keep moving.”
Josefina grumbled before she trailed behind. Dustin nearly tripped trying to catch up, “Guys? Wait—wait!”
The group followed Steve’s lead until the tunnel opened into a vast chamber. His flashlight panned over it—massive, webbed with roots and vines.
“All right, Wheeler,” he said, “I think we found your hub.”
“Let’s drench it!”
The group worked quickly. Lucas sprayed the walls with a pesticide sprayer while the others poured containers of gasoline and other flammable household products all around the perimeter.
“That everything?” Steve asked once it seemed everything was doused. Dustin and Lucas voiced affirmations as they moved back to the entrance to the tunnel they had entered from.
“Alright, you guys ready?” Steve asked, searching his front pocket for his Zippo.
“Light ‘er up!” Dustin commanded.
Steve flipped the lighter open, “I am in such deep shit.” He flicked the flame and hurled it toward the centre of the room.
Fire swallowed the chamber in seconds. The vines withered and shrieked as if they could voice pain. The sound was a low wail of something dying far away. Heat emitted from the growing inferno and started to pelt against their skin.
“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Steve yelled as everyone scrambled and ran toward where they had originally come from.
Steve hastily checked the map, “This way! This way!”
“Oh, my God!” Dustin panted, repeating the phrase over and over.
Behind them came the low rumble of something angry. Mike tripped and grunt as he hit the ground. A vine reached out and began to wrap around his ankle.
“Help! Help!” he cried as it attempted to drag him backwards. Lucas and Dustin grabbed his arms, straining.
“Everybody back! Back!” Steve shouted, slamming his bat onto the vine. Once, twice...until it finally snapped free.
Lucas and Dustin quickly helped Mike to his feet.
Dustin spoke with alarm, “Guys, we gotta go! We gotta go now—”
He was cut off by an ethereal growl from behind them. When the group pivoted, a demodog was staring up at them. Nearly everyone recoiled except Dustin.
“Dart,” he breathed, taking a step forward.
“Dustin! Get back here!” Steve ordered.
Dustin held his hand up, “Shh. Stop! Trust me, please.” He approached Dart carefully and knelt in front of the demodog. “Hey. It’s me, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.” He lowered his mask and raised the goggles off his eyes. “You remember me?” He swallowed, “Will you let us pass?”
Dart snarled.
Dustin flinched. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the storm cellar. I know that was a pretty douche thing to do. You hungry? Yeah?” He reached into his backpack, pulling out a familiar candy bar.
“He’s insane,” Lucas muttered but was met with Mike knocking him in the chest with the back of his hand to make him shut up.
“I’ve got our favourite. See? Nougat.” Dustin held up a 3 Musketeers bar before he started to rip the wrapping off. “Look at that. Yummy. Here, all right? Eat up, buddy.” Without turning away from Dart, he waved back to the group to urge them on, whispering under his breath. “Come on. Come on.”
The group crept by and waited for Dustin to say his ‘goodbye’ before continuing. As they ran, a tremor hit without warning. Dirt rained from above and somewhere far off, more creatures screamed.
“What was that?” Max asked as she got back to her feet.
“They’re coming! Run! Run!” Mike shouted.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Steve bellowed.
They sprinted through the tunnels until a single beam of light broke ahead illuminating the dangling rope like a beacon of salvation.
“There! There!” Lucas yelled almost breathlessly.
“Come on! Go, go, go! Let’s go!” Steve ordered. He hoisted Max, then Lucas, then Josefina up the rope. Roars echoed closer.
Mike and Lucas leaned over the hole, reaching. “Dustin! Come on!”
Steve gripped Dustin into a protective embrace as a pack of demodogs thundered past.
“Eleven!” Mike breathed with wide eyes.
After a moment, Lucas pulled Dustin to his feet just as Steve hauled himself out of the hole, collapsing to his knees on the dirt. The group stood in a ragged circle, their breathing laboured, their eyes fixed on the dark pit below. Suddenly the headlights of Billy’s car surged to life, flooding them in blinding white before sputtering out, leaving only silence and the hum of the night.
Mike straightened, his voice small but certain. “She did it,” he said, “She closed the gate.”
01:45
The wheel trembled beneath Steven’s hands as he tightened his grip. He tried to ignore the pulse of pain behind his eyes; it had been throbbing since the tunnels. The headlights cut across the yard, sweeping over the house as the car rattled to a stop outside the Byers’ house. It appeared empty; nobody must have come back yet.
Mud spattered their shoes as they climbed out, the smell of smoke and scorched earth clung to their clothes. They were all exhausted, silent.
Billy Hargrove sat on the porch, body slouched against a post, arms hanging loosely over his knees. A cigarette burned slow between his lips, the ember flickering red in the dark. His eyes, glazed but sharp, locked onto Max. He did not move until the group approached.
“Need to take my sister home,” he muttered, voice rough, unreadable. His stare drifted to Steve, then Josefina, and back to Max. For a moment no one said anything; air thick with leftover adrenaline.
“I’ll be fine,” Max said quickly, taking a step forward, glancing back at the others as if to convince them, “He’s just...gonna drive me home. That’s all.”
Steve looked as if he wanted to argue but Max continued. “I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?”
Lucas frowned, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Max assured him with a firm tone, forcing a smile, “Really.”
Billy pushed himself up, flicking the cigarette to the dirt. He did not say another word, just took a step toward the Camaro. He blinked when he realised Steve was holding out the keys. He took them without comment, barely acknowledging the gesture before turning away.
Max hesitated a heartbeat longer, then followed, throwing one last look over her shoulder at the group before getting into the car.
The car engine roared to life; headlights sliced through the dark before it sped out of view. For a long moment, no one moved. Only the faint rustle of the wind through the trees filled the silence.
“Let’s go inside,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temple as he turned to open the front door; hoping the others would return soon.
Once back in the house, the group collapsed into the living room. The lamps buzzed weakly, casting tired halos across the cluttered space. Steve lowered himself to the couch, every muscle stiff and shaky. His vision swam. The concussion he had shrugged off earlier was catching up fast. Pressure bloomed behind his eyes, and the world began to tilt sideways.
“Uh...Steve?” Dustin voiced with concern.
Steve tried to answer but his stomach lurched. He got up and stumbled over to the kitchen sink, barely making it before he was sick. The sound startled the others. Mike and Dustin cursed while Lucas ran to grab a bucket.
Steve spat in the sink a few times and pushed a handful of water into his mouth from the faucet. He looked over at Dustin. “I’m fine...” he rasped weakly, though his bruised face was pale. Dustin slung an arm around him and steered him back to the couch.
“There, there,” Dustin said awkwardly, “Take a seat, buddy.”
Lucas came rushing back with a bucket, shoving it toward him. “Here!”
Josefina reappeared moments later with a damp hand towel, wordlessly handing it off before retreating to the loveseat.
Mike sank into the recliner, uncertain and frowning, glancing between Steve and the others like he should be doing something, but he did not know what.
The silence encompassed the room as they all waited. Steve groaned, hunched over the bucket, Dustin rubbed his back. When Dustin tried to press the towel into his hand, Steve waved him off with a muttered groan and leaned back against the couch, eyes half-lidded.
Lucas sat on the loveseat with Josefina, fidgeting with the walkie-talkie, waiting for any sign of life from the others.
The front creaked open and Hopper stepped inside, his arm braced around Eleven, who looked drained and slightly pale.
“El!” Mike shot to his feet. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s fine,” Hopper said, steady but firm, guiding her toward the recliner. “Just tired. Needs rest.”
Mike took El’s hand as she sat. She met his eyes with a faint, weary smile.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I closed the gate.”
“I know,” Mike murmured back, his smile trembling.
Hopper exhaled hard, then glanced around the room at the mud-streaked kids until his eyes landed on Steve. His eyes narrowed, “What the hell happened to you?”
Steve tried to form words, but they came out as an incoherent mumble.
Before he could try again, Dustin blurted, “He got his ass kicked by Billy Hargrove but Josie stopped Billy with her mind. She’s got superpowers, like El!”
Hopper froze. “Come again?” The words dropped like a weight; he turned his attention onto Josefina.
Eleven looked too, curiosity flickering through her fatigue.
Josefina sat rigid in the corner of the loveseat, hands clenched tightly in her lap. She looked small beneath Hopper’s stare. “I...I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice fraying at the edges, “I didn’t...it just happened...” Her words tumbled out fast, like a confession.
Before Hopper could press further, she blurted quickly, her tone almost pleading. “May I...may I get a ride home? I really should be going. It’s late. My father is probably waiting for me. He’ll be wondering where I am...I am going to be in so much trouble.”
The room went still.
On the couch, Steve stirred, pale and sweating. “Josie...” he croaked, voice hoarse with concern.
She shook her head rapidly, words tumbling out in a rush. “Please? He’ll be so angry with me. I just—I need to go home.”
Hopper studied her, eyes softening. He recognised the tone; the way denial could sound almost rehearsed. His voice came low, more measured. “Kid...he’s not there.”
Her lips parted, a shaky breath catching in her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself like armor, blinking hard.
Hopper let the silence hang, then cleared his throat. “Tell you what,” he said, gentle but almost gruff, “You stay here tonight. I’ll take you home in the morning. Deal?”
Josefina fluttered her eyelashes, slightly startled, “...stay?”
“Yeah,” he said simply, “No more running around tonight. You all need rest. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Josefina nodded, retreating into herself. “Okay,” she whispered.
Hopper lingered a beat before he glanced around the room. “The others are on their way back, so let’s just all rest. No more talking tonight.”
Steve slumped back into the couch, letting Dustin fuss over him again.
The house settled back into an uneasy quiet, the weight of things unsaid filled the room.