Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seven had a routine.

He’d wake up to a forceful nudge or an alarm blaring in time with the red light above his door. Over his time, Seven had learnt that the alarm meant to stand up to attention for Papa to come in so they could ‘talk’, and that the nudges meant he braced himself tense to be dragged out of his room, down the hall, and into one of the testing rooms.

Seven woke up to an alarm, and he groaned only a little before standing out of bed. The springs groaned at his moving weight, and Seven rubbed over his buzzed head with his eye still closed.

The door opened, then shut, and Seven knew Papa was inside. The alarm had stopped the second the door opened. As it always did on these type of mornings.

“Good morning, Seven.” Papa said, as he did on these mornings. Only then did Seven open his eyes.

“Papa.” Seven said. The white haired man grinned.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Papa asked, as he always did.

There was a routine. Papa followed it too. Seven had to, otherwise he was punished.

“Good.” Seven always answered the same. He knew not to complain. He used to, a long time ago. But he hadn’t in a while.

Papa paced for a moment, and Seven stared him down. As he always did. Seven had been told by Papa that he had magnificent eyes. He could go long periods of time without blinking, making him the perfect at catching peoples secrets. One time, Seven had been told to observe a lady. He was instructed to sit beside Papa in the stark white room whilst the older man asked her questions. Some were nicer questions than the others, but Seven had been told to watch; not speak. He was good at that. She had seemed nice enough, but Seven noticed she said the wrong things to the more… strange questions. Questions that called for one right answer, which she didn’t give.

Seven hadn’t seen her after she was forcefully escorted out of the room. Papa had turned to him and asked ‘Seven, what did you see?’ And the boy had replied with his limited vocabulary the stuff he knew would impress Papa.

‘She moved a ring on her… left hand a lot.’ He had to think for a second which side was which. He continued, ‘Her hair was done. She has stuff on her face. She…’ Seven but his lip, looking away and down for a moment. Papa pulled his chin up back to face him. ‘She wouldn’t be good here.’

Seven wasn’t dumb, he had only seen guards and Papa and ‘friends’ here his entire life. He knew that she would not have made a good candidate here.

Papa had smiled, and pat him on the cheek. ‘Good boy.” Seven’s nose had been tapped. ‘Off to bed, then.’

Seven’s eyes saw everything. Stuff nobody else saw. Seven blinked, and Papa was sat on the bed and guiding him to sit there too. Seven complied, sitting stiffly on the end.

“I want to teach you a word.” Papa said, and Seven couldn’t help but beam. He didn’t smile, but he definitely perked up. Papa noticed, and chuckled.

“It’s nothing special. But I knew it would make you happy.” The man fiddled with something in his pocket before revealing it. It was a folded bit of paper, and Seven watched eagerly as the man unfolded it.

He presented it to Seven, and the boy took it gingerly. He held the white paper between his fingers and stared down at the word on it. He took in a breath, and thought of each letter and their sounds.

“B…ba.” Seven struggled, getting frustrated with himself a little as he struggled. Papa stayed silent looming above him. “Bat…” No. the ‘th’ made a different sound. “Bath…” Seven looked hopefully up at Papa, eyes glimmering with hope as his lip quivered a little.

Seven didn’t like reading.

“Keep going.” Papa left him to struggle, and Seven was only a little mad at that.

Steve ducked his head down again and stared at the word. “Bath…” He choked a little, his nose tingling as the lights flickered. “Bath-tu…”

Papa looked around the room, staring at the flickering lights. He snapped his head to Seven, and the boy could feel the anger radiating off of him.

“Bath-tub.” Seven choked out, letting out a breath of release as he let go of his power. He flipped back a little and wiped his nose. He breathed heavy, and he watched Papa stare at him.

Papa snatched the paper away from him with a disapproving look. “Control yourself, Seven.”

Seven felt angry at the man. He didn’t ask to be made like this. He didn’t want to have no control.

Seven felt his anger bubble in his chest, but died it down quickly. He couldn’t be angry at Papa, that was never in the routine.

“I’m sorry.” Seven whispered, quiet as a mouse. Papa turned over his shoulder to look at him.

Seven was small, not so much in height but his arms had always been incredibly tiny. His ribs poked through his skin if he breathed in too much, and his legs weren’t exactly thick with mean so to speak. He must’ve looked pathetic, drowning in his sleeping gown with a limp body hanging on the bed.

Papa sighed and stepped closer to him, crouching down and stroking over his head. He moved Seven physically, so his head was less leaning on the wall and more on his pillow. Papa moved his legs too, putting him completely on the bed and giving himself enough room to sit by Seven’s skinny knees.

Papa placed a hand there.

“I wanted to introduce you to something. Something new and to help us find things. People.” Papa explained. Seven guessed that was what the ‘bath-tub’ was.

“I want to.” Seven whispered, and Papa gave a weak smile. “To see it.”

“You will. Later.” Papa pat his knee, and stood to leave. Seven tried not to tear up at his departure. “I will see you later.”

“Papa…” Seven tried calling for him, but he was gone and left alone.

Like he always was on these days, because there was a routine that had to be followed. Seven was left alone for a while - left to cry, left to get angry, left to mourn something he didn’t remember - until he was strong enough to walk around the room again.

<->

If he was strong enough to walk, the guards had figured out, then he was strong enough for testing.

After Seven had taken a few steps around his room, he was changed into a fresh gown before he was dragged down the hall into one of the testing rooms.

Seven never understood why he couldn’t have walked on his own. If he was moving from one room to another, and wasn’t with Papa to hold his hand, he was taken by the under-arms and dragged backwards. Seven distantly remembered a time when he struggled, but that time was no more. He simply let himself be dragged now. There was no use in fighting.

Seven was tested with wires stuck to his head with sticky tape. Seven wore a thinly-wired ‘cap’ of sorts alongside these wires, and was almost always sitting down during his testing. He used to have his wrists bound tight to the arms of the chair, but that was when he struggled. Seven didn’t struggle with the tests anymore.

Seven crushed cans. He broke light bulbs and lifted the table up into the air before dropping it again. He was instructed to find people with static playing as white-noise to help focus his concentration. He found two men and a woman separately today. He rolls their conversations aloud, so Papa and the ‘friends’ in white lab coats could hear what Seven did.

Each time he did something right, he was praised by Papa through the microphone in the top corner above the door. Seven smiled just a little each time.

Seven didn’t smile when he was instructed to kill a cat.

It hissed at him in its cage, placed precariously on the table in front of Seven. The white fluff ball had bared its teeth and rattled its caging the second it caught sight of Seven, like something was wrong with him inside that the cat could sense.

The cat made Seven uncomfortable. He hated it. He wanted it dead for offending him.

But, when he tried, the cat only yowled.

Seven had failed. Through his anger, he had failed. He had nobody to blame but himself.

When Seven failed a test, it disrupted the routine. He was thrown into a dark room for a long time and left there to cry. Seven hated it.

He looked up at Papa through the window ahead. He shook his head. No, please. And Papa looked incredibly disappointed. Seven had failed, they both knew. He deserved punishment.

Seven tried not to struggle as he was dragged by the arms once again, down the hall and past his bedroom and thrown into the dark room. Seven cowered into the corner and shivered in the dark.

He rocked on his heels and hit his head with his fists as the routine was disrupted. And it was all his fault.

<->

It took too long for Seven to be released again. He knew he deserved every second of the punishment for not being able to kill that damn cat, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

Seven didn’t like the dark. They kept a light on for him at night when he was allowed to sleep in his bedroom.

The sliver of light that blinded Seven as Papa opened the door was enough for the boy to sob. More than he already had been.

“Papa…” He whispered, choking a little as he crawled towards the man. He hugged his legs, clawing at his black pants and trying not to stain them too much with his tears. “I’m sorry.”

A hand was placed atop his head, and then his head was pat. He was forced to stand by hands under his armpits pulling him to his feet. Papa didn’t struggle even as he lifted him.

Seven stared up at the man before him, who held him by the arms and looked him over. Papa gave a nod before Seven’s hand was in his and they were walking down the hall again.

Seven kept his gaze on the man as they turned. The routine was put back in place, and Seven was hungry enough for it to be dinner time now.

Seven ate quick, before he was reprimanded and told to slow down again by Papa. He did, but still ate quick. Papa, the entire time whilst Seven ate, stroked over his shaved hair.

“We’ll need to get your hair cut again.” Papa spoke only once during dinner, and with that comment came a wave of memories that consisted screams and pleads as his body - once strong - had been pinned down and assaulted with a razor.

Seven flinched, and Papa tutted.

Seven finished his food quick. It had been buttered bread and a cup of water. He was told to take his medication, under Papa’s watchful eye, before he was being guided into a new section of the lab by Papa’s hand gripping his tight.

“I will show you tor bathtub now, number Seven.” Papa said as they walked, not looking at the boy he guided. “They will be people there, people you haven’t met yet. But they are friends.”

“People?” Seven questioned, not quite liking the idea of more people. He didn’t want more people, he wanted to stay with Papa and only Papa.

“Yes, more people. Friends. You’ll do your best to be nice to them.” Papa said, making them turn a right down a corridor. At the end of it, tow guards loaded with arms stood outside a door. Papa pressed his keypad to open, and nodded to the two guards outside as they passed and entered.

“Nice.” Seven nodded, knowing to be good for Papa.

“Yes. You’ll be good.” Him and Papa entered the new area, and Seven flinched at the bustle of people around. They all stared at him upon entry, and Seven would have ran away if he wasn’t holding his Papa’s hand. Or if he hadn’t promised to be good for him.

Seven was put into a tank, submerged with water with a large helmet on his head, and left to find a certain man with a thick moustache that curled at the edges. Seven had relayed when he was saying through the microphones, and came back to the surface screaming in terror.

Seven had learnt was the bathtub was, and instantly hated it. The feeling of being wet and the weight of the helmet was too overstimulating. Having to find a man through his mind with no-knowledge of who he was or what he’d done was becoming too much for Seven.

He hated it. He hated it all. He hated Papa. He hated the guards. He hated the person he once was; the person Seven couldn’t remember.

Seven screamed when the helmet was off him. He screamed and exploded a doctors head with his mind before was he retrained. He was dragged out of the bathtub room kicking and screaming, with Papa nowhere in sight. He was probably disappointed. He was probably amazed.

Seven hated him.

Seven was thrown back into the dark room, the door locked behind him and the room encased with dark shadows that taunted Seven with past laughter and mean comments.

Seven screamed, and kicked at the walls. He pulled at his short hair and clawed at his arms until they bled. He tried to latch his mind onto something to destroy it. He flung himself at the wall to feel something. He struggled when he tried wrapping his fingers around his own neck to squeeze tight. He clawed at his own face and slapped his wrists all the while screaming a bloody murder.

Seven passed out with a sore throat.

Chapter Text

Seven found his way out the next day.

He had been escorted back into his room during his ‘sleep’. He awoke to Papa already in his room.

There was no alarm that woke him, or guards forcefully picking him up to change and dress him ready for testing. He was allowed to sleep for as long as he wanted, which was nice.

But it went against the routine.

Seven startled as he saw Papa above him, looming over him as his wide eyes fluttered open. He woke up laying on his back, and scrambled up into a sitting position at the sight of Papa’s white hair above him.

Seven let out small whimpers of fear, and was backhanded across the face for the noise.

“Control yourself.” Papa sneered, angry. Seven closed his eyes tight as he gripped the fresh gown he woke in. He must have been changed in his sleep. The other had been coated in a dead man’s brains.

Seven’s mind let go of the lights. They stopped flickering.

“Number Seven.” Papa sneered his name, and Seven snapped his head up to the man. He tried to look intimidating, no longer trying to be good. He only looked weaker.

“Tell me what you did yesterday.” Papa left no room for argument. Seven’s gaze faltered and he looked down at himself. He saw scratches and scarring marks across his entire body. He felt a sting on his cheek not from the slap. His knees were bruised from where he was pushed inside the dark room.

“I-…” Seven didn’t have the words to describe it. “I got mad.”

“You did, I could tell.” Papa replied, pacing around the bed. Slowly. Seven stared him down as he gripped the gown covering his knees. “Continue.”

“I got mad.” Seven repeated. “And…” He shivered. “I’m bad.” The confirmation stung. Although that was what he wanted - he wanted to be bad and to be brave. He wanted Papa to be scared and he wanted that man dead - it hurt so much to confirm when he had tried so hard to be good. He hadn’t acted up since he felt like the other person he used to be. He had been good for so long. And now, he was bad again. All of his efforts were useless. Because he had killed a man, and there was no getting around that fact. Seven was a murderer, and that certainly wasn’t good.

Papa shushed him, sitting near his knees like he had the day before and stroking over his face. Seven looked away and closed his eyes to cry.

“Don’t cry, Seven.” Papa shushed. “I didn’t know you could do that. You’re stronger than you know, number Seven.”

Seven opened his eyes and looked down at the tattoo that marked his name. On his left arm, on the inside. 007 etched into his skin. Someone had been chuckling at the name when it was given to him, and Seven remembered sobbing as he was immobile to escape the pain.

“If I had known you could do that… Seven, you would have never been treated this way.” Papa said, and Seven looked up at him.

But he was, Seven thought. He was treated like this. Like a machine built to destroy. He had been instructed to kill a cat. If Papa hadn’t known he was strong enough to kill a man, why did he think he was strong enough to kill an innocent cat?

It didn’t line up. Seven stared Papa down. Papa wiped his tears and kept his hand on his cheek.

“There will be changes, number Seven. Thank you for showing me your true potential.”

With that, Papa left. And didn’t close the door behind him.

That was one of the changes, Seven guessed with wide blown eyes, and he gulped at the racing thoughts in his mind.

Leave. Leave the room. Escape. Get out. Run away. Run away. Run away run away run away run away run away get out get out get out.

He couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed. It was all a trick. He didn’t know life outside of the lab. He couldn’t leave. He wasn’t allowed. It was all a trick. He didn’t know life outside-

Seven peered around the corner, and found no guards. He saw cameras on the walls, and sucked in a breath. Seven hooked onto them, and blew up the electrical wires he could feel. He did that to all of the cameras nearby, and wiped his nose as he rushed down the hall with bare feet padding the ground as he went.

He knew he didn’t have long. They’ll try fix the cameras soon, and in the process they’d find him.

But Papa had left the door open. Isn’t that what he wanted? For Seven to escape and leave and roam freely? Why else would he change the rules- the routine.

Seven had no clue where he was going, hadn’t ventured the entire lab once before as he wasn’t allowed to. He stuck to what he knew first, thinking somehow strategically through his impending panic. Seven found out then that he didn’t like the feeling of being chased, of being tested against time and knowing if he took one wrong corner, he would be punished more than ever before.

Seven pressed himself up against the wall at the sound of heavy footsteps marching down the hall opposite. He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his fast breathing, and nearly suffocated himself in the process. He shut his eyes tight, and felt the sizzle pop bang of electrical wires in the walls. Something popped in the wall down the corridor, the sound muffled and internal to the building. Seven wasn’t sure what he did, but the caught the attention of the guards for a moment.

Enough time for him to run.

Seven turned the corner, rushing down the corridor and catching sight of a small amount of guards looking at the wall. It had been rusted over, like something blew up from the inside. Seven wasn’t sure what he had done, but it acted as a sure distraction for a second.

A second long enough for Seven to practically jumped over the two or three guards inspecting the wall. Seven fell to his chest as he landed uncoordinated, and made a thud on the floor. Skin slapped ground, and the guards snapped their heads to him. They yelled, and Seven whimpered in fear as he shuffled to his feet and continued to run.

He ran down the corridor, then turned. He ran down that one, and turned again. At the end of that hall, was the stairwell. Seven threw his body into the door, and then shut it again quick behind him.

The stairwell was cold, and Seven shivered a little at the breeze coming from below. The metal floor froze his feet, but Seven stared at the door.

He concentrated, his nose bleeding as he welded the edge into the wall. Making it impossible to open. He wiped his nose quick after the use of his powers, and didn’t let himself get too tired before he started to run down the stairs.

He fell a few times, grazing his knees in the process. Stairs were tricky, he found.

As he ran, more doors opened. And more heads exploded and more people were thrown at the wall. All the while, Seven yelled in anguish. He broke guns by snapping them in half, and dodged bullets flying his way.

By the time he got to the bottom, he found the last door. Above it, signed a word in a glowing green.

Seven groaned a little in frustration as he realised he’d have to read again. He didn’t have the energy, but the yells and bangs of doors flying open above him had him startling. He had no time to read.

He threw open the door.

He pushed the door open with his entire force, groaning as his shoulder gave a small pop at the force. Seven was met with a blinding light.

When Seven’s eyes adjusted, he saw greens and blues and browns and heard high pitched chirps of nature. He saw grass and smelt fresh air. It was the first time Seven had seen this place, the world outside of the lab, but it felt too familiar.

Seven took a hesitant step outside, and slammed the door shut behind him with his mind. Yells were cut off, and all he heard was the silent life of nature.

He was beckoned into the woods, and Seven ran, still aware that the guards and Papa knew the labs ground better than he did, and that he would be found.

On weak legs, barely carrying him any faster than a walk would, Seven reached the barbed wire fence. He looked left, then right, then back forwards again and found that the thing seemed to surround the entire lab. Which, looking up at it, had been bigger than Seven thought possible. He heard the distant sound of an alarm, one different from the one in his - old - routine and more yells flooding from the building.

He knew they were coming for him.

He looked up at the fence, and braved climbing up it. His frail body somehow carried him to the top, before he flipped back down onto the other side. His body gave a thud, and Seven groaned into the dirt before standing again and stumbling in pain into the woods.

The distant alarms grew quieter, as Seven grew distance with the lab. He rushed into the woods, flying past trees and trying to catch his breath as his eyes were blown wide in shock and fear. He didn’t have time to comprehend what he had done. There was a burning in his chest as he tripped a few times of loose twigs and tree roots. He was coated in mud by the time he found a tree to cower behind.

His chest heaved as he tensed up a little. He rubbed his palms into the dirt as he felt a bug crawl across his foot. He learnt his head on the bark of the tree and watched a bird come home to its nest. He watched a caterpillar nibble at a leaf, and he watched a squirrel dart away from him in fear.

Seven knew the feeling; being afraid of something bigger than him.

Seven levelled his breathing, gripping the grass with white knuckles.

He had escaped the lab.

Seven looked around. At the trees, and at the leaves and watched the little bugs crawl around ok the ground and bury themselves in the dirt.

Seven didn’t know what to do now.

He knew he shouldn’t stay in one place. He was too close to be safe: The guards could catch him easily, cowering behind a tree as he tried to catch his breath.

He gripped his chest with a dirtied hand, squeezing his eyes tight as the distant alarm seemed to get louder in his head. Seven’s head rang, and he thumped his temple a few times with the ball in his palm.

He tried pulling his short hair, but that did none to relieve the worry. He sat up, quick, opening his eyes to stumble on his feet and further into the woods, escaping the lab further.

Seven sobbed as he ran past trees, waking up bushes in his haste to escape. He found a road, and didn’t look before he felt a force hit him in the side.

Seven went tumbling to the floor before he blacked out completely. He heard someone yell before he fell into complete darkness.

Chapter Text

“Is he waking?” A muffled voice sounded from above. Seven groaned, and scrunched his face a little. The place he had been taken was warm. At least, it was warmer than the lab. And nobody had ever asked Seven if he waking: he was used to being forced awake by rough hands pulling him to his feet.

“I don’t know, Will. Just- step back a little.” A voice deeper than the first said from a distance coming closer. Seven groaned and moved away, body still weak and his head throbbing in pain as he shuffled his body backwards. He feared opening his eyes.

“Mom!” The voice higher in pitch called as the person went running. Seven groaned again at the sound.

“Shh. It’s okay. Just… open your eyes, okay?” The other voice sounded, closer than Seven would have liked.

There was no gunfire, there was no angry shouter. Seven braced his body as his eyelids fluttered open.

“Hi.” He was met with a boy with a face Seven had never seen before. He wore clothes Seven had never seen before, and his hair wasn’t shaved. He wasn’t a scientist, but he wasn’t a guard. He definitely wasn’t Papa, and Seven had never seen another experiment like him before. Seven didn’t know who the boy was in front of him. And that scared him most.

The unknown.

Seven whimpered in fear, shuffling further into the soft thing he had been moved on. He found that his left arm particularly was injured, and at any sudden movement did a throbbing start across his entire limb. His head ached a little, with a sharp and constant stab at his temples, and he felt a little dizzy as he tried to sit up too quick for his body to handle.

“Whoa, whoa. It’s okay. See? I’m backing away. Just- watch yourself.” The other boy tried calming, throwing his hands up in mock surrender as he backed away quick. Seven stared him down, noticing the scuffs on his clothes and the tattered edges of his shirt. He wore a jacket, and thick shoes that weren’t a guards nor Papa’s.

Seven closed his eyes tight in a forced blink, and found his eyes had blurred through his tears.

“Jonathan? What’s- oh.” A woman came closer, on Seven’s right. He snapped his head to her, and tried backing himself further into the chair as his chest heaved. Tears were streaming now, and he too held his hands up in surrender to the two. Seven noticed that they looked similar, in a way he couldn’t quite see through his frenzy.

“Hey.” Her voice changed, and went softer around the edges. She ducked down a little, although before she wasn’t that large anyway. Still, it helped Seven calm if a little bit. “Hey, it’s okay.” She said soft, and Seven’s chest kept thumping and his arm still hurt.

“I’m- I’m Joyce. And that’s my son Jonathan there.” The woman knelt beside her ‘son’, called Jonathan. Her name was Joyce. “We found you, in the road. Do you remember that?” Jonathan gave her a look, but Seven didn’t understand it.

He shook his head, only remembering the force in his side that had him toppling to the floor and hitting his head on the ground.

“Okay. That’s okay, sweetie. Can I you ask a few questions?” Joyce asked, and Seven stared her down. He had never been asked what he wanted before.

He hesitated, tempting to say no to see what would happen. He hadn’t denied another in so long. What did it feel like? He shouldn’t. He couldn’t be bad.

Seven nodded his head, and Joyce’s face lit up. She shop’s Jonathan away with a hand, and he nodded and left the two. He was out of Seven’s sight in seconds. Seven watched as Joyce stood and got a little closer.

“It’s okay, hon.” She said, noticing Seven’s wide eyes watching her.

She sat down beside him on the chair, and beckoned him to sit properly too. Seven felt compelled to obey her. But, in a different way to how he had to obey Papa and the routine.

Joyce smiled, and looked him over. Seven notices the dirt coating him and his gown, and felt a little embarrassed. He had never been seen dirty by anyone that wasn’t Papa or the guards that changed him in the mornings, or during his ‘sleep’ after punishment.

“Are you lost?” Joyce asked, and Seven tensed.

He shook his head, because he wasn’t going to lie.

“Okay…” Joyce said that like she was thinking for a moment. She continued after a few seconds silence. “Do you have a name?”

Seven lifted his sore arm up. His tattoo faced the woman. She looked a little scared, and Seven felt bad for making her feel that way.

“That’s your name?” She asked, hesitantly. Seven nodded. Joyce but her lip. “Do you know where your parents are?”

Seven tilted his head at that a little. He furrowed his eyebrows and let his mind think of the words he would use for his answer, making them clear in his mind before he tried speaking. Something, if he tries talking without thinking about his word choice, he said the wrong things.

“No.” Seven didn’t know what that was. “Hiding.” He whispered, and Joyce leant in a little closer to hear him properly.

“Hiding?” Joyce copied, and Seven closed his eyes tight as he nodded.

“Bad place.” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers frantically as his chest started heaving again. “Papa…”

The name slipped from his lips, and Joyce stayed silent for a moment.

“Oh, dear.” She shushed, a gentle hand finding Seven’s and taking his into her softer ones. Her hands were used, and Seven’s were soft and subtle. She stroked her ages thumb over his smooth, boney knuckles. “Do you remember this bad place? Where was it?”

Seven but his lip. It was naughty to lie, he knew. But if he told this woman, this kind Joyce, he knew she could be put in danger. Like the woman who said the wrong things and was never seen again. Seven didn’t want kind Joyce to be in any danger.

So he lied. He shook his head like a liar. Because he knew where he was from, and knew what the bad place was.

But he lied, to protect a lady he had just met. Seven wasn’t sure why he did it.

“That’s okay, honey.” Joyce smiled, still stroking over his knuckles. “You must be hungry. You’re skin and bones!” She smiled brighter at that, and Seven felt a little confused. Of course he was, every person was. Weren’t they?

“Never-mind that, love. I’ll make something quick.” Joyce pat him on the cheek gently, like a backhand but softer and with a smile, and Seven stared at where the woman has been stroking over the knuckles on his hands.

Seven’s lips curled into a little smile.

<->

After Seven ate, he was guided around the house by the smallest boy in the home he had been welcomed in. He was given what was called a ‘tour’, which consisted of the little boy - Will - explaining everything Seven had never seen before in a home like this.

The Tv was interesting, and so were the decorated bedrooms. The bathroom wasn’t that entertaining, but the ‘bathtub’ had Seven cringing. Will didn’t notice it.

The chairs were called sofas, and the kitchen was amazing. There was a fridge, and and what was called an oven. One kept things cool, as did the freezer, and the oven warmed stuff up. Some stuff couldn’t be eaten cold, and some stuff couldn’t be eaten warm. Seven nodded at all of the information, his head hurting even more with the overload of information.

By the time they got back to the sofa, Seven crashed into it with a groan. His arm was throbbing, and when he looked at it he noticed that it had taken on a purplish hue. He bit his lip and looked up at Joyce, who was stood talking to Jonathan in a hushed, secret conversation. Seven knew not to interrupt, so shut his mouth and gripped his arm to make it go numb. Anything was better than feeling the throb of his blood pumping.

His headache got no better, but Seven didn’t want to bother kind Joyce and her son Jonathan. Will chatted a lot, showing off detailed pictures in books Seven had never seen before, and Seven had even been shown some of Will’s own works of art. They were considerably better than Seven’s own, when he had once been allowed a pen and paper to ‘draw’ until he was punished with the banishment of the activity - Seven had deserved it though, he had failed a test one day and in result, never saw colouring pencils again. Something distant inside him and told him to scream and yell ‘that’s not fair!’ but he pushed that feeling down quick.

When it got dark, and Seven had been in and out of sleep whilst Will was instructed to ‘leave him alone for a moment’, he was guided into Jonathan’s bedroom. A makeshift bed had been made on the floor. A quilt on top of another with a few pillows that were two different shades of brown.

Jonathan had led him into the room, promising his mom that they would be okay for the night. Jonathan didn’t seem as tired as Seven felt.

Seven hesitantly sat on the floor, looking up at Jonathan who was in the process of taking his shirt off. When he turned, Seven almost gasped. His eyes bugged out of his sockets, because he had never seen another boy without a shirt on before, and Seven didn’t look like that.

Seven’s ribs stuck out uncomfortably, but Jonathan’s were more defined. His chest was bigger, but he wasn’t fat at all. His stomach was flat, where as Seven’s caved in a little. He wrapped arms around his own middle protectively, and looked down at his sprawled legs.

His knees were nobly, still red with grazing. His arm really hurt, and he felt a little sick after seeing Jonathan’s upper half.

“Oh.” Jonathan slapped himself in the face, and Steve stared up at him in shock at the movement. “You need clothes. Sorry, I don’t know why we didn’t have you change earlier. Um…” Jonathan rummaged around his closet, his back facing Seven.

Seven stood, on weak legs and slowly padded towards Jonathan. His skin even looked better than Seven’s. Seven was pale, almost sickly-looking to the average person. Jonathan was tanner, although still a pale white. Seven but his lip, uncomfortably and a little angry he looked the way he did.

“Here.” Jonathan turned, almost bumping Seven as he didn’t realise the other was so close. Jonathan laughed a little at Seven’s shocked face, but it wasn’t mean. Seven had been laughed at before, in a mean way, and it never failed to make Seven cry.

“It’s an old shirt, but it should be long enough. If it’s not, I’ll find you some pants.” Jonathan handed the shirt to Seven, who took it hesitantly and shivered as his arms protested the movement. “I’ll look away. Um… don’t worry.”

Seven tilted his head at that, and wasted no time in pulling the gown over his head. He gave Jonathan no time to move, backed into the corner of his room, and Johnathan called out something incoherent as he pulled the gown back down.

“Dude.” Jonathan breathed out, and Seven stared down at him in shock. “Privacy. Just- um… go in that corner, then I’ll look away, then you can change, and then we can both go to bed and act like that didn’t happen. Yeah?”

Seven nodded, unsure. He went into the corner as instructed, and waited for Jonathan to say it was okay for him to change. Steve pulled the gown off of him, hesitantly, and turned around to watch Jonathan sat on his bed, facing away with his back turned, and fiddling something in his hand. Seven wanted to see.

He was about to walk over in nothing but his underwear before Jonathan asked “is it okay now?” Which had Seven jumping and dropping the gown to the floor. He quickly changed into the other shirt, and it draped over his body up to his knees. It was shorter at the back, but nothing private was thankfully showing.

“Okay.” Seven said quietly, and Jonathan stood up and put the camera back onto its place on his shelf. “Great.” He hopped onto bed, and gave Seven a smile.

Seven smiled back, with a little quirk of his lip. He sat back down on the bed, and pulled the covers over him. He found himself snug and warm, and never wanted to leave.

“Hey, Seven?” Jonathan whispered about twenty minutes later. Seven opened his eyes, a little bleary from incoming sleep.

“Yes?” He didn’t bother sitting up to talk, because he was rude and tired and half asleep.

“Is that your real name?” Jonathan asked, and Seven didn’t like the way the question wrote him up.

“Yes.” Seven nodded, because it was the only name he could remember now, and the only one he was allowed to answer to.

Seven tried his hardest to push his abilities down. He didn’t want to break nice Joyce’s lamps or the extremely cool Tv.

“Thats not a name.” Jonathan said, and Seven felt only a little defensive. “We should call your something else. If you want, of course.”

Seven thought about it for a second. If Jonathan thought Seven wasn’t really a name, then it can’t have been a proper name. Jonathan knew more than Seven, and Seven was starting to trust him and Will and nice Joyce, their mom he learnt earlier.

“What about… Steven?” Jonathan suggested, and it took a second for Seven to realise what the boy had done.

He had added a T. To make Seven into Steven.

The momentarily nameless boy thought about it for a second, before smiling and little and nodding.

“St-eve-n.” Seven- no, Steven now, sounded the name out with a grin. There was his word for the day; his new name.

Steven.

“I like it.” Steven said quietly, and Jonathan gave a wispy laugh. They were both tired now, one more than the other.

“I like it too. Goodnight, Steven.” Jonathan said before there was a shuffle on the bed.

Steven shuffled a little himself, before falling almost instantly asleep. If only someone had seen his large grin as he dozed off.

<->

Steven woke up to an empty room. There was a small bustle outside, presumably in the kitchen, and Steven sat up in bed for a moment.

Nobody had come to wake him up. There wasn’t any alarm to signal any tests, and Papa hadn’t been looming over him as he slept.

Steve sat in his makeshift bed, and thought for a moment.

He had escaped the lab. At what cost? He knew they were looking for him, and he couldn’t stay here forever. Nice Joyce had been, well, nice enough to let him stay, but would he have to keep moving now? There was no way he could continue walking in the woods with no where to go, but staying with Joyce and her sons was too much to ask. What if he couldn’t trust them? What if he had fallen into a trap and Papa was outside the door, ready to pin him down and get his guards to drag him out.

Steven gripped his quilt tight, making a little whimpering noise in the back of his throat as he used his other hand to whack his head a few times. It helped little to relieve his anxiety.

There was a knock at the door, the sound of knuckles tapping against the wood to make a hallow sound. Steven gasped, and stared. Nobody had ever knocked on his door before.

“Seven, honey? Are you awake?” That was Joyce. Nobody had ever asked him if he was awake before, either. The guards never gave him time to ask.

Steven got up, his legs still shaking and his arm a more red-colour today, and opened the door slowly by the handle. He had never done it before, and stared at the door for a second before turning up to look at Joyce with a wide expression.

Now that he wasn’t blinded by fear, he truly saw the woman. She had red-brown hair that was straight past her shoulders. It had a little slip at the top though. Her clothes were brown in colour, like Jonathan’s had been. She was small, in weight and size, and had the same skin as Jonathan; pale, but not paler than Steven.

“It’s Steven.” Seven said boldly, the idea of still going by that fake name making him cringe a little. “Please.” He added, for manners.

Joyce smiled bright at that. “Your real name is Steven?”

Steven shook his head, looking sad again. Joyce nodded.

“That’s okay, honey. We can still call you Steven if you prefer.” Joyce said, before looking the boy over. “Nice shirt.” She smiled, and Steven looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Jonathan‘s.” Steven said as a way of explaining, and Joyce nodded.

“I know.” She replied, grinning. She wasn’t being mean and laughing at him, but she kind of was. “I’m teasing, honey. Are you hungry?”

“Tease-ing?” Steven sounded out, unsure. Joyce nodded, and her face fell a little.

“Yeah, honey. Teasing. Like, joking around?” Joyce tried, but Steven got shy. He didn’t like being mocked for his speech. He knew he didn’t speak well, but it was hard sometimes. It was even harder to read, but so far he hadn’t had to.

“Well. Breakfast?” Joyce changed the subject, not giving Steven anytime to respond as she went down the hall. She presumably wanted Steven to fall, which he did warily.

He feared that if he turned the corner, he’d see Papa sat there with a disappointment look. But when he did, he found Jonathan and Will talking animatedly to one another at the table, food on their plates and Will with an addition piece of paper and pencils to make art. They were both dressed differently to the day before, and Steven felt a little awkward in his too-big shirt Jonathan leant him. At least, it was better than the feeling of impending doom at the thought of Papa being there.

“Seven!” Will grinned up at him when he revealed himself, being beckoned over by the smaller boy. Steven padded over on bare feet and sat so he wasn’t directly next to anyone. The table was small, so he was in the way regardless of his tries. Steven felt guilty.

“It’s just toaster waffles for breakfast today, Steven. I hope that’s okay.” Joyce three over her shoulder, messing with something Will had told him was the ‘toaster’.

She placed two yellowish, circular things into the slots and pressed a button to push them down. They instantly came back up, and Joyce groaned. She tried it a few times, and Steven frowned.

“Stupid- God. You worked earlier!” Joyce yelled at the thing, which confused Steven because he wasn’t sure it could talk.

He looked between the two boys, who also looked a lot alike, like Joyce specifically (same eyes, same nose. Steven could see it now, not being afraid of them anymore). The two were talking between each other, ignoring Steven for a moment as he sat alone.

Steven looked back up to Joyce, still struggling, and focused onto the machine. He wasn’t sure what it did exactly, but he pushed the toaster waffles down in their little slots and the things started to heat. Steven let go with a small gasp, and wiped his nose as it trickled some blood.

Joyce stared at the machine, before turning to Steven and grinning.

“It’s an old thing. I need a new one but. Well…” Joyce didn’t continue, and Steven was confused.

“Mom, can I have more syrup?” Will asked, breaking Joyce out of her contemplation. He turned instantly back to Steven before his mom could answer. “Did mom call you Steven earlier?”

Steven nodded, a small movement. Will grinned.

“So you have a name! Good. Because a name isn’t a number.” Will shook his head, and Steven frowned.

“Why?” He said gently, looking between Jonathan who j joined the conversation.

“It just isn’t. Steven fits you better anyway.” Jonathan provided, and Steven smiled just a little. He liked his new name. It fit him. He wasn’t sure if it would have fit the person he once was, the person he couldn’t remember and therefore would never be; but he, as Seven, liked it a lot.

“Ta-da!” Joyce presented the two toaster waffles on an plate. Will grinned for the boy.

“Awesome. Do you like syrup?” Will asked excitedly, not giving Steven a chance before he squirted the bottle of the thick goop across his toaster waffles. “It’s great!”

“Will. What if he didn’t like it?” Jonathan scolded gently, and Will only shrugged. Steven picked the sticky waffle up, put it in his mouth, and scoffed the rest down in seconds.

When he finished, having not let the food touch the sides, he fell back into his chair and caught Joyce’s shackled stare. It matched Jonathan’s, but Will’s burst of laughter made it all better.

<->

After breakfast, Joyce said she had to drive Will to school. Jonathan apparently couldn’t because he was working, which, Steven didn’t understand. But he knew not to argue, so he nodded at the question “will you be okay on your own, honey?”

Steven had nodded, unsure but not wanting to show it. Joyce had smiled, promised to be back soon, and Steven was left alone.

He stood in the living room, watching out the window as the car pulled away and out of sight.

Steven stared, standing in the centre of the room and looking around slowly. He turned on the tv from his distance, turning the Chanel with his mind a few times until he turned it off again. He didn’t understand anything playing. To the obnoxious laughing track to two people sat speaking in a monotone, Steven moved into the kitchen where Will’s unfinished drawing had almost been done this morning.

Steven stared at it, trying to decipher it. There was writing, but he didn’t bother reading it. He didn’t want Joyce’s lightbulbs blown up.

The art had four small people throwing fireballs at something. Something big with two heads and it’s mouth open. Steven stared down at it, watching it mid-attacking the four small people. Steven wanted to help, although he knew that was silly, because it wasn’t real.

He looked away from it, and turned to look at the toaster. He stepped closer, putting his hands out to hold it. He looked back at the door, but nobody came bursting in to punish him.

Steven turned back to it, and bit his lip. He held the toaster up off the counter, and concentrated. There was a bit of metal constricting it from the inside. Steven pinged it off with a bloody nose, putting it down gently to wipe at his nose. His arm was dried with blood, and he groaned a little at the sight in annoyance.

He sat at the table like he did that morning, and waited for Joyce to come back.

When she did, she was grinning ear to ear at the boy. Steven smiled back, jumping up a little at the sight of her. He realised he missed her, and was too happy to see her to be shy about his emotions.

“Want to go shopping?” Joyce asked the boy with her grin getting bigger, and Steven didn’t know what that meant.

He nodded, because although he was unsure, he trusted Joyce to keep him safe.

Chapter Text

Steve realised on their way to ‘shopping’, that the outside world was filled with a lot more colour than he had expected.

In the lab, there were white walls. And white pillows on his white bed, and white gowns dotted in an occasional blue, and a continuous white floor surrounding each level, and a very white ceiling. The bathtub had been tinged blue from the salted water, and sometimes there were black suits and white shirts worn strictly by adults, but apart from that; the lab was white.

Outside, though. Outside was filled with colour.

Seven- no, Steven’s eyes, although they were the same eyes as before, less anyone get confused, gazed upon each colour and lingered on the ones he couldn’t name. There was green, and blue, and brighter colours in all shades. It was a wonder his brain didn’t explode, or he gave himself a bloody nose with all of his excitement.

Kind and nice Joyce was excited too, it seemed. She drove the ‘car’, with a smile on her lips. Steve hadn’t thought anyone could be so happy. He didn’t, however, notice the slight edge to her grin, the tight pinch to the corners of her lips. He didn’t notice, in his own selfish excitement, that Joyce was terrified. Because there was an unnamed, unexpected young teen in her car no older than her own oldest son, with a tattoo’d number for a name, a buzzed head, and an interestingly limited vocabulary. She had no clue what to do, not an idea where to start, but knew he’d need clothes, and that was the best she’d manage to do for now.

So, she kept up a smile, watching Steven through the corner of her eye sight the wonders of the world for, it seemed, the first time. She’d never seen anyone above the age of two become so fascinated with the world: it terrified her.

“Alright hon, we’re here.” She smiled, tight lipped and feigning excitement. Steven, too caught up in himself, beamed to her before his face flushed, and he looked away bashfully, as of embarrassed by his excitement. She smiled, and unlocked the car seatbelt around his chest for him (she had had to lock it too, as if Steven had never been in a car before in his life.)

“Here…?” Steven asked, in his own peculiar way, it seemed. Joyce nodded, understanding what the boy meant even through his (very) broken English.

“‘Here’, is the mall. Or, Hawkin’s take on a big clothing store.” Joyce offered with a smile, and pat the strange boy on the knee before exiting the car. “C’mon, we’ll find something you like.”

Steven followed, matching Joyce in shutting the passenger door, and keeping closely pressed to her side as they entered. It was Thursday morning in the middle of autumn, meaning the shop was almost dead in customers. The perfect time for them, it seemed, because Joyce didn’t want to risk anyone catching her and Steven, the unexplained teenager suddenly staying with her.

God, she should have probably come up with an alibi before letting Steven out the house with her. Hawkins was small, people would talk. And Joyce Byers hosting a random teenager, who looked half ill, could and would become the talk of the town.

Oh god, what was she doing…

<~>

“How…” Steve mumbled as Joyce seamlessly flicked through shirts of all kinds. In style, colour, collars and fabrics. It was making Steve’s head spin a little.

“How what, hon?” Joyce asked, staring at a bright shirt with a scratch fabric, before pulling it off its hook and placing it up to Steven’s chest. She had done it a few times before, but would nearly always pull a face and put it away. They had two shirts so far, two of which Steven had not chosen.

“How do you… choose?” He asked with a shuffle of his feet, wearing Jonathan’s shoes. They pinched at the sides, and Steven tried not to wince at each step. It was better than being barefoot, so he couldn’t complain.

“Oh.” Joyce stilled, her facing falling a little. “Well, you just look, and think if you can see yourself wearing them.” Joyce’s face stayed still, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes glancing up at Steven. As if trying to properly look at him; look /into/ him…

Steven swallowed, then nodded a little and moved away from the woman.

“Steven,” She tried, and Steven kept his eyes on the random shirt he felt on the tips of his fingers. Too soft… way too soft. He didn’t move onto the next one, and the sticky-soft feeling of the fluffy shirt kept assaulting his finger tips.

“Steven.” Joyce tried again, and Steven finally glanced up at her, hot in the face. “You’ve never shopped for clothes before?”

Steven shook his head, eyes downcast as he let go of the shirt.

“I’ll go look.” He offered, quietly, and Joyce’s lips went thin as he shuffled away to the other end of the shop. He needed a moment, just to get away from the woman, a moment in his own space. She was kind, and nice, but he didn’t enjoy the questions. Or the strange looks that Steven read as ‘somethings wrong with you.’

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. Maybe it was a bad idea to leave the lab in the first place, where it was safe. But Papa had been so mean. He wanted Seven to do things he hadn’t wanted, and when he had blew up that man’s brains, Papa had said he was proud. And that he wanted him to do so much more. So much more pain.

But Seven hadn’t meant to hurt that man, and never wanted to do something like that never ever again. But, Papa had said, Papa had promised…

There would be more destruction to come.

Steven gasped, as rough hands found themselves on each side of his upper arms, gripping with warm fingers and ice cold spots at the same time. Steven shot around, his nose bleeding as he stared at the blurry face in front of him.

Hands were put up, in surrender, and bright sparkling fingers caught Steven’s sight and calmed his chest a little. He hadn’t known fingers could sparkle.

Steven blinked, and as his eyes came back, his ears un-fuzzed, and he could finally see the boy in front of him properly.

He was bigger than Steven, although it seemed most people outside the lab were. His skin was tanned, although not the darkest but there was a gentle hue darker than Steven’s pale complexion. And this figure, that before him rambling on with apologies and silk smooth sentences, had the longest, thickest hair Steven had ever seen.

He wasn’t sure boys could have hair that long before seeing this one, who were metal bands around his fingers, and that was what made his fingers shine before as his eyes went blurred, and his eyes were dark and brown and large on his face.

“-sorry, man! I just thought you were- are you alright, your nose- shit it’s dripping real bad. Lemme get you a tissue.” The man fumbled over to a counter not far from them, and came back with a clean white tissue and held it up to Steven’s nose. As those warm fingers pressed against his nose, through the tissue sent an electric shock to Steven’s skin, and e gasped gently before pulling away from the hand. Steven held the tissue there himself instead, looking up at the king-haired boy through his eyelashes. The one he stared at, flushed awkwardly. “Sorry! Sorry, I just thought... Dude, are you okay? Are your parents around, or your friends? You don’t look so hot.”

Steven was definitely feeling warm after his excitement, although he wasn’t sure if he looked it. Steven felt the back of his hand up to his forehead and furrowed his brow at the sweat resting near his short hairline.

“Sorry.” The guy said one last time. “I’m Eddie, by the way, if you wanted to call my manager and get me fired for being a creep.” The guy laughed, and Steven hadn’t heard a sound quite like it before. He felt his ears perk at the sound, and a small smile lifted his lips without his knowledge. Thankfully, his mouth was covered as he held the tissue to his nose, still.

“Not a creep.” Steve said gently, aware of how sentences seemed to flow better out of Eddie’s mouth than it did Steven’s.

Eddie, the boy with the very long hair, didn’t comment. He only shrugged, and snorted. “Maybe. Could be. You don’t even know me. And I don’t think I’ve seen you around before…”

Eddie waved his hand a little, and Steven knew that to mean he wanted the bleeding boy to continue with his own name.

“Steven.” He said proudly, and Eddie nodded and seemed to think the name over for a while.

“Don’t quite remember seeing you around school, Mr. Steven. Are you new?” Eddie asked, and Steven opened his mouth to reply (with what exactly, he was unsure. He wasn’t going to say he was from a lab and had blown a guys brains out not four days ago…) before Joyce came up behind him and gripped Steve’s arm with a flushed face and white knuckles. The grip didn’t hurt, but it was definitely stronger than one would expect a small woman to be able to grip.

Steven glanced down at the harsh little hand holding him in place, and tried to push back the sickly feeling it brought up to his chest, steadily rising...

“Eddie! What are you- I didn’t know you worked here.” Joyce said her sentences quick and flustered, her face as pale as Steven’s body. She looked a little green, too. Steven hoped he hadn’t made her sick.

“Yeah. Four week suspension sucks ass, so Wayne thought I deserved to work to ‘learn from my mistakes’, or whatever.” Eddie shrugged, grinning back up at Steven before looking back to the woman. “Is this your nephew, or something, Ms. Byers?”

“Yes!” She answered a little too quickly, and Eddie startled as Steven flinched. He rested a larger hand onto Joyce’s, who loosened her grip a little on the teens arm. “Yes. This is my nephew, Steven. Steve. He’s staying with me and the boys a while.”

“Sweet. Jonathan didn’t mention a cousin. But still cool.” Jonathan grinned, before shuffling a little on his feet and clapping his hands once. “Right. Better get back to work. Good to see you, Ms. Byers. And, cool to meet you too, Steve. ‘Till we meet again.’” Eddie slapped Steven’s arm, gently, and the boy watched him go with large eyes. He pulled the tissue away from his nose, to smile and wave a little to Eddie’s back.

“Oh thank god.” Joyce visibly deflated once the long haired boy was gone, and Steve gave her a confused look for it. She then practically dragged Steven out of the building as Steve kept his gaze on Eddie’s back.

Specifically, his long curly hair, and his want to touch the gentle locks.

<~>

“I don’t understand.” Steve mumbled as he nibbled on the toast Joyce had made. She was overjoyed to find her toaster working, and Steve had yet to tell her it was him who fixed it. Because, well, he was unsure whether to tell her about his abilities.

“Look, Steven. Honey. It’s all pretend, until we can find your parents, or, someone who can help you. You said your ‘papa’ hurt you?” Joyce said as he cradled her warm mug of ‘coffee’. Steve had been offered some, but he turned down the offer when he noticed the smell. It smelt like lab coats and clipboards. It sounded like the click of pens, and the scratch of machines reading his senses. It sounded like the screech of a cat in agony-

“‘Pretend’?” Steven asked over his toast. He had yet to take a proper bite out of it, almost afraid.

“Not real. Made up, playing pretend? You’re not my nephew, because I don’t have siblings. But, we need a quick explanation as to why you’re suddenly here. So, we’ll play pretend for a while, until you’re home, okay sweetie?” Joyce offered, before shaking her head a little. Her face seemed like she wanted to groan in frustration, but wouldn’t allow herself too. “Honey, your dad. He’s mean to you, hurts you, you said?”

Steven shook his head, biting his lip. He put his toast down, and gently tapped his chest with his palm.

“I deserve it.” He nodded, and spoke very quietly, sealing the words within his mind. He had deserved all of his punishment. He had killed a man, he had failed Papa, he hadn’t been able to find the man they wanted. He was naughty; he deserved punishment.

Joyce winced, pulling back a little and looking away for a moment. Steve thought he offended her, but didn’t open his mouth to continue.

“No, honey.” She turned back, her eyes strong. Steven had to pull away a little, but he couldn’t escape that gaze. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.”

It was, he thought deeply. She didn’t know the truth, and couldn’t know the truth, for it could kill her. Papa was ruthless, and Steven wasn’t naive. He knew what Papa would do to her if she was found with Steve in her hiding. She couldn’t know.

But, it felt so wrong to lie.

“But-“

“No, Steve. None of it, you hear me? It’s not your fault.” Joyce said as he but her nail, glancing behind Steve for a moment and back to the boy. “Do you mind if I make a call? I have a friend who may be able to help.”

Steve thought about intercepting telephone calls, and spewing the words out to Papa through speakers and being told to muffle certain words, and silence others, so a completely different message could be conveyed.

He nodded, and took a deep breath as Joyce put in the call.

The first, and last, clear words spoken to anyone intercepting the phone call were ‘Hey, Hop.’ Before everything else went muffled.

Down in a deep basement, under a large building with white walls and white ceilings, a man in a white lab coat stained with food down the collar, calls Dr. Brenner over with new information that may draw them closer to finding Number Seven.

Because, who else could have possibly projected static through the phone and muffle the voices through the speakers.

Down in a basement, far in the woods on the outskirts of the small Hawkins town, Dr. Brenner orders three men to find him his runaway Number Seven.

Chapter Text

This ‘Hopper’ got to the small house in the woods quicker than Steven could sense his arrival.

He had been watching the tv, although the words spoken through it didn’t quite make sense to Steven. He was more listening to the distant hum of static it produced, because that was a familiar sound and, the hiss from the mechanical box felt grounding. Like his routine, which had been ruined the moment Steven blew a man’s brain out.

As the door banged a thudding knock, Steve gasped quickly and spun around in his seat, staring at the door and fearing what lay before it.

Joyce reassured him quickly as she rushed to the door, unlocking it with nimble fingers and throwing the door open in haste.

There, outside the door, stood a tall man with a hat atop his head. He was taller than Steve, much bigger than him too. His face had hair, and his eyes weren’t friendly and warm like kind Joyce’s seemed. He looked to Joyce first, listened to her quick words Steven strained to understand, and let his eyes roam the room until they landed right on Steve.

He froze, gripping his wrist where the tattoo inked and pinched his skin with weak nails. He did not like this tall man.

“Right.” Hopper responded to Joyce’s fast-talking. Steve hadn’t understood a word of it. This Hopper came walking into the house with large, loud steps. Steve’s chest thumped in time to the tallest man coming closer, and closer, until he seemed to tower over Steve still sat curled into himself on the armchair. Steve felt frozen to move, wide eyes staring up at the man as he gripped his wrist painfully.

He watched this ‘Hopper’ closely, waiting to break both his arms before he could reach them out to grab Steven.

“Now, Hop.” Joyce said as she came closer, coming up behind Steve to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. Steve felt his body grow warmer, unfreezing under the large man’s glare. He curled into her a little, afraid a quick movement would set the large man charging after him. “He’s a little fragile, doesn’t speak much. Just, be nice. Like I said on the phone, he said his parents hurt him, and-”

“I deserve it.” Steve filled in for Joyce, and Hopper snapped his head to the teen curling up in the sofa. He sighed, and Steven watched with a furrowed brow as the man knelt down before him, taking off his hat and holding it in his hands. Steve’s brain flooded with images of the man hurting him from the lower angle, but he stayed confused with his brow still furrowed. He didn’t speak again, in fear of punishment, of pain.

“Do you have a name?” Hopper said, and that made the boy confused for a moment.

He nodded, knowing not to lie, but knowing not to be naive and trust this large man so easily.

“Steven.” He said, still gripping his tattoo. “Steve, sometimes.” He shouldn’t let him know. He shouldn’t show him the mark on his arm.

“Right.” Hopper turned to Joyce, and Steve looked up at her too to find her fretting her nails between her teeth.

“He has a /tattoo/, Hop. Of…” She shook her head, eyes dark. Steve’s heart sunk. She turned to Steve with a forced smile. Steve didn’t like that. “Honey, do you mind showing Hopper the tattoo? He’s just here to help, sweetie. I promise.”

Steve trusted her, though. Maybe not Hopper, but maybe he could grow too. If Joyce wanted…

He very slowly pulled his now-cramping hand away from his wrist, and very tentatively pushed his arm outwards for Hopper to peer. As Hopper leaned in, to get a closer look at the 007 itched ink into his skin, Steve couldn’t help the involuntary flinch his body gave, pulling his arm back before Hopper could grab it, and drag him away. He leaned back for Joyce’s comfort, and found her hand squeeze his shoulder tightly.

Hopper groaned, and Joyce gripped his shoulder a little tighter.

“Okay. Um… who’d- what’s the numbers mean?” Hopper asked, stumbling over his sentences like Steven did. Still, there was certainty behind this Hopper’s words, whilst Steve’s were jumbled and didn’t make as much sense.

Instead of speaking, Steve brought his palm up to his chest slowly. He pointed to the numbers, and back to his chest again.

“I was Seven.” He whispered, and was unsure if either heard.

Steve watched as Hopper pulled a face, as if his throat constricted from the inside. Steve reached for his top lip, not finding any blood.

“Who did that to you?” Hopper’s voice turned very low, like he was suddenly more serious. Steve didn’t feel spooked as much, at least not by the large man. This ‘Hopper’ man with the silly hat was no fear against Steven’s memories.

The memory of hot scratching and wet cheeks had him flinching back again. His neck turned away, his eyes closed as he felt the phantom pain on the needle that scratched and stained his tender skin. It burnt, it scratched, and Steve remembered a distinct cackle at his pain.

“Bad man.” He mumbled, and Hopper seemed to groan again.

“Your dad?” Hopper offered, and Steve’s head turned to the knelt man. “Joyce said your ‘papa’ hurt you?” He explained, although it sounded like a question still.

Steven nodded.

“Okay, kid. We’re getting somewhere. You’re doing great.” Steven felt his chest flip at the words. He didn’t know how to feel about the words, a large feeling he’d never felt before. “Could you describe your dad to me? What does he look like?”

“Why?” The word shocked even Steve, who had never questioned anything in his controlled life. At the lab, Papa forbid it, and Steven was always too afraid to ask why. Now, this Hopper and kind Joyce might get just as mad for Steve’s loose tongue.

He braced himself for a hit, his body going tense, but all that hit him was the sound of a sigh.

“Because, Steve, what happened to you was bad.” Hopper’s lips pierced, as if shocked or annoyed he had to explain this to Steven. As if he should know these things. “Joyce found you in the street, in the dark, with no shoes on. And you said you were running away from ‘bad men’ and your papa. I need to know what these ‘bad men’ are doing so I can stop it and protect you, get it?” Hopper said with a stern tone, and Steven shuffled further back into the sofa crease and Joyce’s comfort. He nodded, although he didn’t fully understand, and pinched at the skin of his arm until the little spot bled.

“Oh, honey. Don’t do that. Let’s clean that up.” Joyce smiled, and pat his shoulder before she left the two, rushing around the kitchen.

Leaving Hopper and Steve alone. The boy couldn’t meet the big man’s eyes.

“Steven, please.” Hopper’s voice changed, and Steve’s ears pricked. “I just want to help.”

Steve looked up at Hopper’s large face, gotten closer and more sincere as the two had spoken.

Hopper wanted to help.

But… he couldn’t risk it. Steven would feel so upset to see either of these people hurt because of his escape, or Jonathan or Will. Seven wasn’t deserving of their sacrifice.

But, Steve couldn’t put it into words, so instead he brought his two first fingers and his thumb pointing upwards to Hopper’s forehead. Mimicking a gun. Hopper went still.

Steve turned the ‘gun’ back onto himself. He made a flicking motion with his hands, the gun going off. Shooting them both.

Hopper sighed.

“Jesus Christ…” Hopper groaned.

Joyce came back with a little band-aid, and caught Hopper’s eyes.

“Might be better if I take him in for a while.” Hopper offered, and Joyce’s lips went thin.

<~>

Steve sat in front of the tv, still curled up on the couch, and tuned the volume down with his mind, to listen closer to the adults whisper-yelling in the kitchen behind him.

“-can’t stay here. Not when it’s just you and the boys”.

“We’ve been fine this long-“

“How long, Joyce? Two days now, barely? No. He can’t stay here if what he’s told us is true. I’ll protect him, and Jane needs the company.”

“So you’d put her in danger?”

“That’s not what I’m saying-“

“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” Joyce yelled, and Steven snapped his head around to face the two in the kitchen. He brought fingers up to his cropped hair, grabbing at the short locks and tangling his fingers as deep as they could go. “He’s safe here, as safe as he’d be with you and Jane.”

Steven watched Hopper groan, wiping both large palms across his face. Joyce stood by the cooker, face red, and Hopper sat at the table with a mug and smoking stick between his fingers. Steven’s brow furrowed as he watched the two argue.

“Look. I’ll take him in for the night, tell Jane not to tell her friends about him, and then tomorrow morning I’ll call around, ask if anyone knows of a danger, or missing kid from a rough background.”

‘Call’… ‘call around’… Steve mouthed the words, sounding them on his lips with the slightest whisper. He turned to the phone. Phone-call.

No.

Steven stood, neither adult noticing him coming up from the couch.

“‘Call around’? Call who, Hop? I don’t know anyone in Hawkins who would hurt a child like that. He could not even be from here. Did you hear his speech, Hopper? I doubt he’s been to school, let alone any other human interaction outside of these ‘bad men’.”

Hopper groaned again.

Steven stepped closer, coming out of the light from the tv and into the flickering light above the dining table. Joyce sighed, and caught sight of Steve coming towards them.

“Steven?” Joyce stepped closer, her fretting hands itching to reach closer and hold Steve’s frail frame. “Are you alright?”

“No.” Steve shook his head, looking to Hopper. “No calls.” He elaborated. “No more phone calls.”

The adults glanced to each other, Hopper went to stand, and Steve flinched back a little. The large man stayed sat.

“Why not, honey?” Joyce’s voice was kind. He couldn’t have her hurt because of him.

“They’re listening.” Steve shuddered, memories flashing of hearing conversations he wasn’t involved in through large speakers and wired attached to his head. Earpieces stuck in his ears, a wired helmet atop his shaved head. Repeating the words for Papa, words Steve wasn’t taught and didn’t understand.

He pointed to the phone, then rested his pointing finger to his lips.

Hopper stood with a screeching scrape of the chair, and Steve flinched back a jump as Hopper grabbed at the phone, and slammed it against the wall.

It crumbled to pieces, and Steve locked shocked eyes with Hopper as he turned around with a huff.

“You’re coming with me.”

Chapter Text

Jane hopped off the back of Mikes bike, and waved goodbye to the boys before walking the rest of the way home. Another boring day of middle school, although watching Dustin eat three different sandwiches for lunch was pretty funny. She had about eight million pieces of homework to do, and she tried not to think about the last grade she got on the English pop quiz, or how cryptic both Mike and Will were talking to each other the entire day (which became really annoying, really quickly) as she made her way through the woods to her and Hopper’s little hidden home in the woods.

When Jane was first adopted, six long years ago now, Hopper had explained that his last home was not fit for a kid, and that his grandpa’s fishing hut would do better. So, they had cleaned the place up after Jane’s official adoption had been signed, and she still had the photo framed by her bed, of the two of them with their brooms above their heads in victory.

She lifted her legs high to not trip on tree roots or have her ankles whacked by overgrown grass. Hopper had been meaning to make a proper path for them to walk and drive to and from the house, but he’d been busy with ‘Chief-ing’, as Jane had called his working hours, that he hadn’t gotten around to it. She didn’t mind much, what she did mind was living so far away from her friends. She would have preferred standing on the back of Mike’s bike the whole way home, but alas, she had to hitch a ride half way, and walk the rest.

First world problems, truly.

As Jane neared the little hut, she smiled at its shabby sight. The small flower pots put outside gave a touch of decor, but the rest of the outside looked rundown and un-lived in. The inside was the complete opposite, and that was what mattered most.

Jane smiled at the sight of Hopper’s car parked nearby. Home.

When she entered, doing their special knock before unlocking the door, she didn’t expect to see a tall, pale teenager stood in the middle of the living room, looking worse for wear and terrified, shaking out of his skin.

Jane gasped, reaching for the door handle to open it and bolt straight out the house, before Hopper entered her sight from the kitchen, red faces and stressed.

“What the fuck-“ Jane started, and Hopper glared.

“Language.” He groaned, coming closer to the shaking teen with the arms pulled up to his chest in fear. If there was a better word for it, Jane would have used it, but this teens panic was downright fearful.

“Jane. Uhh… meet Steven. He’s, staying here, for a bit.” Hopper tried smiling to the middle schooler, but it appeared more like a grimace. Jane watched as Hopper’s large hand resting on the teens shoulder made the teen’s eyes wider, if at all possible, and glance fleetingly between Hopper and his hand gripping him.

“Who?” Jane asked, dropped her bag and stepping closer hesitantly. She tried a smile, suddenly shy herself at the teen, and the guy- Steven?- looked too panicked to smile back. She couldn’t really take any offence, not when the guy looked ready to flee on those incredibly skinny legs.

Jane got a better look of him up closer. He looked malnourished, and his skin was bruised at the arm, where his hand wrapped around his forearm with white knuckles. That couldn’t have been comfortable, and Jane winced at the guy.

“He’s uh… staying for a bit.” Hopper repeated, and Jane leaned back to raise an eyebrow at the man.

“You’ve already said that.” She snorted. Jane had never seen Hopper so stumbled, so unsure. It was a hilarious sight to behold.

Glancing back at Steven, and his fear, and pale starved body, and shakes. It didn’t seem very funny anymore.

“What happened?” Jane asked, suddenly concerned. She glanced between Hopper and Steven, landing on the strange teenager. “Did someone hurt you?” She whispered, feeling her own chest twist at the sight of her dad, hitting her and her sister in drunken rage. She shivered as Steven did before her.

“I deserve it.” He whispered, the first words Jane heard from his lips. Quiet, unsure, a whisper near silent as it sounded like words repeated back on Steven.

Jane snapped her head to look at Hopper in shock. Hopper sighed at Jane’s expression, and nodded to her silent question.

Jane’s chest constricted, thinking back on her own shitty childhood. Abusive dad, absent mother. Filled with bruises and slaps sent her and her sisters way. Her sister, who’d she never see again…

Jane reached over, grabbing at Steve’s limp, boney hand and holding it between her own. “That isn’t true. Trust me.”

Steve glanced up at her where he had been looking down at the wood floors, finally reaching her eyes with a small look of expression on his helpless face.

Jane was years below Steven, but in the moment, the strange teenager looked years younger than Jane did, and she wanted nothing more than to protect him from the horrors of his past.

She squeezed his hand, and watched the smallest of smiles curl his lips.

“Hopper won’t let anything like that happen to you again. I promise. He’s looked after me for years, so I know you can trust him. Even under all that grumpiness.” Jane smiled, teasing Hopper as he nudged her in the side gently.

“Watch it.” He said as he went back to the kitchen, the smell of Eggo’s suddenly hitting her nose with a grin.

“See?” Jane offered to Steven as she pulled his gently by his hand, towards the couch. “He’s not so bad.”

<~>

Bright light, shining directly onto him, heating his pale skin and making his insides twitch. He whimpers a little in the back of his throat, watching the tray of multiple syringes pass him, and be places on the metal table to his left.

Papa dragged his metal chair over towards Seven, scraping against the floor and hurting his ears. He glanced away, watching Papa’s knees brush in front of Seven’s own. He doesn’t like the feeling of his black pants brushing against his bare knees, it makes his entire body itch in discomfort.

He doesn’t pull away.

“Seven,” Papa spoke, demanding Seven to catch Papa’s eye. He looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Give me your arm.”

Seven wants to defy, scream and shout and hurt everyone around them and then tell Papa ‘no’ for once. He can’t do that, so he doesn’t do that. He gives Papa his arm,’and sticks the needle into the corner of his elbow.

Seven winces, and watches as the world started to spin, a heavy wave taking his bones and making Seven slump in his seat. He couldn’t move, but he could hear. He could still see, but everything seemed blurred.

Seven watched guards come in, strapping him down to the table once Papa left with the plate of syringes. He tried reaching out for him, to hold his hand as the large guards in big white suits started strapping him down with biting leather straps across his wrists and ankles. Papa didn’t once look back.

The door closed behind him.

Seven watched the scalpel reach towards his stomach.

<~>

Steven gasped awake, sweating under the heavy blankets restricting him from escape. He panicked, pushing the lump of grey and brown comforters onto the floor. He sat up quickly on the sofa, a spring digging into his side as he huddled in the corner. A figure came closer, large and broad and taller than Steven was. He panicked, and felt his nose start to bleed when the tv started to crackle.

Jane watched from her room, peaking around the door as Hopper tried to comfort the scared teenager on her couch. She remembered those days, the earlier days of living with Hopper when seeing a large man above her scared her to shit, even if she knew rationally Hopper wouldn’t hurt her, and that he wasn’t her asshole of a pathetic father.

The th crackled as Steven’s hands fumbled, gripping the shirt Hopper had leant him between tight knuckles. She sighed, knowing not to intervene and let Hopper look after him, and closed the door behind herself.

God, what had happened to that guy to make him so… scared. Terrified. Jane could practically feel the fear radiating off him, and the way he barely spoke? Mike would call him weird, because he was a loveable asshole, but Jane knew something was up. People didn’t act like that for no reason; barely speaking, and when they did, a near whisper. Jane had to strain to hear him. And that display of… literal fear, it was harrowing to see.

A shrill ring sounded behind her,’and she jumped slightly at the sudden thrill. She padded over to the telephone, and pulled it to her ear as she sat. She played with the cord absently as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Jane? It’s me, Will.”

“I know it’s you, idiot. I can tell by your voice.” She grinned, although Will couldn’t see it. “Weird time to call.” She knew both Joyce and Jonathan was be asleep by now. She checked her clock, half eleven. She should be asleep too, and so would Will be if he didn’t sound so excited about, something.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing this whilst everyone’s asleep.” Will started whispering, although the excitement in his tone stayed prominent.

“Oh, right.” Jane started whispering also, as if she should be quiet incase Joyce or Jonathan had super hearing and heard her from across town. “What do you want?”

“Mom told me he’s gone with you. Seven?” Will spoke in his hushed whisper, and Jane stopped still. She glanced at her closed door, and pulled the phone away from her ear.

She could hear short muffled mumbles from Hopper, and she put the phone back to her ear quickly. “Hold on!” She stage whispered, and grabbed the phone and threw it onto the bed, pulling back the bed covers and huddling underneath them. After a moment of shuffling, making sure the quilt was cover her completely, she huffed and picked up the phone again. “Okay.”

“What was that?” Will asked, and Jane had the image of Will glancing down the hall quickly. She snorted a little at the idea.

“I had to hide under the covers.” She said it like it was obvious, and Will gave a short ‘oh’. “You’ve met him too? Who is he?”

“No ides. Mom hit him with her car the other night. We didn’t know what to do about him, so she took him home and when we started asking who he was, he was really cryptic about it. Like, he either didn’t know, or didn’t want us to know.” Will explained, and Jane tossed the words around her head, trying to make sense of them.

“Why?” Jane shook her head. “Your mom’s nice, it’s not like she’d threaten him or something.”

“That’s the thing. He said he came from a ‘bad place’ and that…” Will stopped short, and Jane waited with bated breath for him to continue.

After a moment too long of waiting, Jane sneered. “Will?” She tapped her hand against her knee, becoming inpatient.

“Sorry. Jonathan stopped snoring. I thought he was up.” Will said, and Jane snickered.

“Okay, keep going. He said he came from ‘a bad place’?” Jane gripped her knee.

She heard the phone rock, and knew Will was nodding. Idiot, like she could see him.

“He said ‘bad place’ when mom asked, and said something about his dad…” Will spoke tentatively, and Jane let a short intake of breath. “Are you alright?” Will asked quickly, quietly.

Jane nodded. Idiot. “Yeah…” She stumbled, then coughed slightly. “Yeah I’m okay, I kind of guessed something like that… he was really scared when I first saw him.”

“Doesn’t talk much?” Will offered, and Jane shook her head.

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’. “God, he was shaking like crazy.” She lifted her blanket over her head a moment to glance at the door. “Shh.” She said into the speaker end. She waited to hear speaking, but heard the distant creek of floorboards from the kitchen. “Okay.” She whispered, chucking the blanket back over her head. She felt her face grow warm from the protection. “Continue.”

“I showed him around my house- I had to explain what a freezer was!” Will yelled, then there was a rustle. Jane gasped at the idea, put kept her phone pushed to her ear to listen out for Will too.

A rustle again. “Okay, all clear.”

“Good.” She nodded once. “Okay. So. What else do you know? Why’s he here now and not at yours anymore?” Jane asked, fretting absently over a hangnail on her left finger.

“That’s the thing.” Will’s voice went quiet, nearly a whisper. “Mom said it’s not safe.”

Jane stilled, pressing the phone deeper to her ear. “What?” She whispered.

She heard Will nod. “She said that Steve said something along the lines of it not being safe, and that someone was listening.”

“Listening?” Jane felt her heard sink.

“Yeah. Like, through telephones and stuff. Trying to find him, I guessed.” Will said nonchalantly, and Jane balked.

“Will…” Jan started.

“Yeah?”

“Then why are we phone calling right now?!” Jane yelled, throwing the blanket back off of herself and onto the floor. “Shit!” She reached for the phone.

“Oh shit. I’ve got to go!” Will yelled, and Jane nodded as she pulled the phone towards her onto the bed.

“Me too. Night!” She panicked, slamming the phone down onto the switch hook before gasping for breath. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling her quick heartbeat, and staring out her window. She shot up, and quickly pulled the curtains over the glass panes, and grabbed her blanket before hiding under it in bed.

She stayed there for the rest of the night, heart pounding. Hoping whoever was listening, was stupid enough not to realise what they were talking about.

<~>

In the living room, Steven wiped his bloody top lip with his sleeve, hoping it didn’t stain onto the blankets.

<~>

“I’m off to school!” Jane called over her shoulder as she closed the front door behind herself. Hopper said goodbye, quietly as Steven was still asleep on the sofa, and Jane rushed down the porch and through the overgrown grass quickly.

She was near panting by the time she got to the road, and as she took a breath to get ready for the quick walk past the Byers, so she and Will could talk on the way to school, Will appeared over the road, his short legs pumping the bike to go as fast as it could.

He skidded to a stop in front of Jane, and shuffled forwards to make room for her to sit on the bike seat.

“Jump on!” He called, breathless, and Jane put her on properly to hop onto the bike seat behind Will

They spoke over each other on the way to school, barely letting the other get a word in at how fast they spoke.

<~>

“We should tell them.” Jane whispered at lunch, the others distracted about Dustin chugging his milk carton. It spilled down his cheeks, and Lucas gagged as he pushed the other boy away from him with a shiver.

“Do you really think so?” Will fretted, as Jane glanced up at the three. Mike was beside him, Jane on his other side. Before them, Lucas and Dustin, arguing over the milk-spillage.

She nodded. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell Mike yesterday.”

Will’s face flushed, and Jane balked.

“You did, didn’t you? Yesterday.” Jane deadpanned, and Will threw his hands up.

“I was excited, okay? Mom told not to tell everyone, so I just… told one person instead.” Will shrugged, and Jane rolled her eyes with a smile.

“You didn’t want to tell me?” She raised an eyebrow, and Will shrugged again.

“You were busy.” He said as if that was reason enough, and made her snort a little.

She shook her head. “Either way, I don’t think we should keep this secret. The others will be pissed if we don’t tell them.”

“But…” Will’s face suddenly furrowed, like something bothered him. “Won’t that put them in danger? I mean, that phone call was risk enough last night. I don’t want…” Will shook his head. “I don’t want them afraid, too.”

Jane kissed her teeth, a habit she was getting from Hopper. “You’re right. For now, it’s just between us, and Mike.” She and Will nodded their agreement, and Jane went back to her school lunch (yuck) as Will poked Mike discretely and asked him to meet him and Jane after class.

“Dustin, you’re disgusting!” Lucas smacked Dustin as he started eating his lunch sloppily, making Jane laugh at the two bickering.

Yeah, it’s better they were kept safe. Even if they got mad that they were left out. It was a risk she, Will, and Mike, would have to take.

<~>

After last period, Jane rushed to meet Mike and Will at the AV club. She knocked on the door, peering through the glass and watched as both Mike and Will shot up, abandoning both Dustin and Lucas who yelled after them.

“Where are you go-“ Dustin’s shout was cut off by the door closing behind the two boys. The three huddled, moving down the corner so Dustin and Lucas couldn’t spy from inside the room.

“I hope they won’t get too mad.” Jane mumbled, glancing over their shoulders and down the corridor. She could distantly hear the two talking, and they sounded more annoyed than she’d like her best friends to be. “Maybe we-“

“No.” Mike shook his head. “It’s our secret, they don’t have to know.”

“But, that party is a democracy. And friends don’t lie.” Jane pointed out, and Mike groaned.

“It’s not lying if it’s for their protection.” Mike complained, rolling his eyes. Jane wanted to push him.

“Guys!” Will called, breaking them up. He quietened again. “We should see him, at yours after school.”

“Do you think he’d want to?” Mike asked, and Jane thought back for a moment.

“You can come. Hopper’s staying late.” Jane nodded, and Will smiled with his own nod.

“Okay. We’ll see him after AV.” The two shook hands with a grin, and went to pull away before Mike shook his head.

“Wait.” The two looked backed at him from around the corner. “We have D&D tonight.”

Jane groaned. “We can miss it once!”

Mike balked, his jaw practically hitting the floor. “We cannot! I’ve got the whole campaign set up. We’ve been talking about this for weeks! Will!” Mike turned to the boy, who stammered.

“I-…”

“Fine. You four play your silly game. But I’m going home to Steve. Tell Dustin and Lucas I’ll see them on Monday.” She turned on her heel and walked down the corridor, waving to the two boys still in the AV Club room as she walked past. Footsteps followed her.

“Wait- Jane!” Will called after her, but Jane turned the corner and went out the door to the school before either could catch her.

On the way home, Mike’s annoyed face presented itself to Jane’s mind, and she snorted at the sight. What a dork.

<~>

Steve stood by the window, watching rain splatter against the window and make the nature before him a blur of dark green and browns. The wind was picking up, making the leaves and branches across the trees slap at the wind, and Steve watched in fascination as little bugs hid under stones, as others revealed themselves to revel in the heavy rain. The sky was becoming dark, signifying night time, and neither Hopper or the little girl, Jane, had come home.

Steve turned his head towards the bathroom, where Hopper had explained a bathtub lay. He could search for them, if the bathtub was anything like the one at the lab. He doubted that, though.

Just as he was about to start worrying, his hand rubbing against his arm rhythmically, a certain knock sounded throughout the house, and Steven gasped as the door opened, and Jane entered the room.

She shook her coat off of herself, although she appeared drenched. Steven stayed very still, afraid of startling her.

“Hey, Steve.” She said gently, placing her coat on the lowest hook by the door, and chucking her bag onto the back of the chair by the little table. She wiped a wet hand across her just-as-wet face, with a lopsided grin on her face. “I had to run home, it was so embarrassing. Still got wet though.”

Steve stared, unsure with what to reply. He scratched over his arm, leaving red marks under his short nails. Jane’s brow furrowed.

“Hey, don’t do that.” She came closer, coming around the couch for each for Steve. He flinched away, back hitting the wall behind. Jane, instantly, threw her hands up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Steve watched her with wide eyes.

Jane sighed, stepping away to the couch. “Look, I know what it’s like, being afraid.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, watching the little girl deflate and grab a cushion, putting it onto her lap to fiddle with the tasseled edge.

“I-… I came from a bad place too.”

Steve stopped at that, going still. He glanced over her downcast body, and stepped closer, hesitantly.

“Bad place?” He whispered, and Jane nodded, not looking up at him. Steve found that without her eyes on his, he felt confident to move closer. He sat on the recliner with slow movements.

Jane spoke again when he sat, her voice sounding tight. “Yeah, a bad place. My dad was an asshole, to say the least. He…” She sniffled, and Steven was shocked to see a tear fall down her cheek.

He had never seen anyone else cry before. Steven did a lot of it himself, when he was bad, when he didn’t listen, when he didn’t get his way. Papa would punish him, lock him away, and Seven would cry and cry until he had no tears, so he’d wail and scream. And only when he shut up, was he allowed back out of the dark room.

Steve shuddered, he hated the dark. He hated crying and being bad.

But Jane was crying, and she wasn’t being punished.

“He used to hit us. Me and my sister. She was taken away, to a different family. Hopper was the cop who arrested dad. He found a soft spot for me, he says, and adopted me as soon as he was told I’d go into foster care. I-… it was a bad place.” Jane explained, wiping her cheek. She looked up at Steve, and he flinched away slightly. “Sorry.” She mumbled.

He shook his head. “Not bad.” Jane snapped her head up to him, and he knew his jumbled words didn’t come out right. He stammered, faltering a little. “You. Not bad, for crying.” He tried again, and watched Jane’s face change.

She looked shocked.

“Thanks, Steve.” She smiled, and Steve couldn’t help but smile back.

“Bad papa.” He pointed between the two of them, his hand shaking. Jane nodded, pointing back.

“The bad place, the bad men, that was your dad?” She asked, and Steve nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest. He pulled the long-sleeves of Hopper’s shirt over his palms, covering his hands, and his tattoo, completely to fight against the cold draft coming from the heavy rain outside.

“Papa was…” His mind flashed to the forgotten woman, the screeching cat and the man’s brain splattered across the cold floors. Papa had been happy Seven had killed, showing a separate side to his abilities. “Mean.” Steve had no other words to describe him.

Jane nodded, understanding even through his limited vocabulary. It felt nice to be understood, for someone to hear his sentences and not critique his lack of knowledge.

For once in his life, he felt acknowledged.

A crash sounded ahead, sending both of them jumping in their seats. Jane chuckled, although Steven didn’t feel mocked at her laugh, and stood with a hand to her chest. “That made my heart go fast.” She laughed, walking over towards the window Steve stood by earlier and pulling it shut. “You okay?”

Steve sat shivering, rubbing his palm across his knee in time to his thumping chest. He nodded, although his eyes kept large as they watched the rain outside. It hadn’t rained the first night he stayed outside of the lab, hiding and quivering for hours as he waited for the guards to go away. He didn’t remember once seeing rain, real downpour, and he wasn’t so sure he enjoyed the loudness of it all.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She smiled gently, pulling the blinders back over the window. “See? It can’t get us if we’re inside. Hopper says ‘you’ll always be safe in this cabin’.” She repeated the words with a deeper voice, mimicking Hopper’s own as she repeated his words. Steve couldn’t help but smile a little, past his fears.

What a feeling, to be safe somewhere away from Papa.

“He should be home soon. Have you eaten?” She asked as she went over towards the little kitchen. Steve followed on light feet, staying far away behind Jane to give her space, but lingering on the outskirts of the kitchen itself. He shook his head as Jane pulled out a tin from the cupboard ahead.

“Well, soup it is, then.” Jane smiled, and went to start cooking it. Steve nodded, turning back to the closed window.

He was safe, inside this cabin.

Safe.

<~>

It was much later when the door knocked. Twice, once, then three times.

Steve turned around where he sat beside Jane on the couch. They had been turned towards the tv, Steve letting Jane flick through the channels with a clicker. When it stopped working, and static filled the small screen Steve had reached for the channels to comment, and Jane had cheered when slapping the clicker enough times made the shows start to play again.

Now, Steve watched Hopper barge into the cabin, hooking his drenched coat on the higher hook by the door, and watched his soaking body drip a trail towards Jane’s bedroom. Steve watched with a furrowed brow.

“How was- hey!” She yelled, chucking her empty bowl of soup dregs onto the little table by the couch. It missed, by a long shot in her haste to get out from the covers and to pull Hopper out of her bedroom. The bowl almost spilled to the floor, but Steve latched onto it and lifted it up onto the table with concentration. He wiped his top lip, a dried blood pool starting to form on the sleeve of his burrowed shirt, and stood to watch Jane yell at Hopper to “Get out! What are you- stop!”

Steve stepped closer, standing by the doorway with wide eyes as he watched Hopper smash her telephone onto the bedside table. Jane watched with wide, tearful eyes, and leaned forwards to pull at Hopper’s arm, to make him “Stop! Stop it, Hopper!”, but the man was too large for her to nudge him, and he stopped hitting the phone over and over on the edge of the bedside table before it was nothing but a hunk of plastic.

Hopper sighed, and Jane pushed him harshly and grabbed at the metal pieces strewn around her small room, collecting them in a bundle in her hands, mumbling how upset she was.

“I’ll get you a new one.” He spoke breathlessly, and Jane pointed her middle finger up to him as she collected the pieces.

Hopper took a breath, and turned to Steve. “Kid,” He stepped closer, and Steve took a step back. Hopper winced. “Sorry. Look. You said they were ‘listening’, right? The bad men?”

Jane snapped her head around to glance between the two, landing on Steve as he nodded slightly. He fiddled with the long sleeves dangling over his hands, and Hopper kissed his teeth.

“Okay. From now on, we don’t use phones, at all. I don’t care if it’s to call your little friends,” He turned to Jane. “Or to talk to someone’s parents. We don’t talk through the phones.”

“Why…?” Jane asked quietly, her face pale. As if she was suddenly afraid of the answer.

Hopper sighed again. “Because I had some people come in the precinct today, asking if I had seen a runaway kid.” He turned to Steve, who felt his chest tighten. Took a sharp intake of breath, and Jane’s eyes widened.

“The bad men…” Jane spoke first, barely a whisper as she stood with her scattered broken-phone pieces clutched in her palms.

Hopper nodded, and Steve suddenly felt very dizzy.

“They-… Steve?” Hopper’s voice was the last he heard before he blacked out.

Chapter Text

Will was biking home after the campaign had been cut short by Mrs. Wheeler shooing them out of the basement after find that they had been there for nearly eight hours. Mike had protested, yelling as his mom told the boys to, kindly, go home. It wasn’t a school night, Mike yelled, but of course Mrs. Wheeler shut him down quickly. It just so happened that their campaign was cut short when the die went missing, and Will had rolled a mysterious number that the four scrounged the floor for. Will found it, and found the determined number to Lucas, who swore, and told Will to hide it from Mike so he could roll again the next time they played.

“It was a seven.” Will said as he hopped onto his bike, Lucas already on his way home as he noticed the time, and Dustin pushing his bike from where he had left it outside, further down the porch than the others.

“What?” Mike asked, glancing back at Dustin as he came closer.

“I rolled a seven. We found the die.” Will grinned slightly. “Lucas said to keep it secret.”

“Of course he did.” Mike rolled his eyes, although he was smiling too. “I won’t tell him I know. You can re-roll tomorrow, when he finish the campaign.”

“Yeah.” Will nodded definitely. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiled, and high-fived Mike before Dustin was calling his name, and the two were peddling away.

They rung their bells, waving Mike away as they sped off down the dark road. It was late enough that neither had to worry about any cars. He thought back to his mom hitting Steve with the car, and snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Dustin asked, as he rode beside Will’s right. His turn was coming up, and soon the two would split and see each other tomorrow, like every other weekend since they were six.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking about the lost die. We were looking for it so frantically.”

“Well, duh!” Dustin laughed. “God, it was getting so good. Don’t tell him, but Mike might be a genius with campaigning.”

“I’ll hold you to that!” Will snorted again. He dodged some rubble on the road, coming closer to Dustin and nudging the other gently as he pulled away. Dustin rung his bell. “But he is good!”

“Please, don’t tell him I said that.” Dustin groaned. He rung his bell again. “You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”

“What’s in it for me?” Will asked with a small smirk, and Dustin balked.

“Fine.” He groaned. “You can choose one. One! Of my comics.” Dustin bribed, and Will’s face lit up.

“To keep?”

“To lend!” Dustin repeated, his jaw hitting the floor at the very /idea/ of giving his comics away so freely.

“Make it a keep, and I won’t tell. Not even in twenty years.” Will slowed down so he could put his hand out for Dustin to shake. He slowed too, and stared at the offending hand for a moment. It got closer to his turn off.

“Fine!” He groaned, slapping his sweaty palm in Will’s smaller one. “You choose.” Dustin started to turn off, and Will sped away down his road home with a triumphant grin on his lips.

“I’ll take your x-men 1-3-4!” Will laughed as he went away, listening to Dustin’s distant yelling. He turned around to see the boy flipping him off over his shoulder, disappearing down the rest of the path as Will kept control of his bike handles in front. When he turned around, his smile shot off his face.

A big, burley figure looked before him, and Will screamed shortly as he fumbled his pedals. He felt his balance fail, throwing himself and the bike down onto the gravel road. His short legs got caught under the bike, the pedals digging into his side as he groaned. He felt the right side of his cheek scratch, and he got winded for a moment as he glanced back towards the road.

There, long fingers reached for him, reaching for his skull. Will was too breathless to scream, instead little whimpers falling past his lips as he struggled to get his legs underneath himself.

He pushed the bike away, getting it off of his body so he could stand, and run.

He ran through the woods as fast as he could, his little chest pumping as blood rushed through his ears. He sprinted as fast as he could, tripping on branches as he went.

He reached the house, and slammed into the door, making it ricochet against the wall. Will skidded as he turned, slamming the door closed behind himself and stepping far away from it.

He rushed to the phone first, finding it smashed by Hopper’s hand the other day. He stepped away from the phone, searching the house for sign of anyone being home.

“Mom?” He called in panic, chest still heaving as tears flooded his vision. He wiped them away with the back of his sleeves, rushing down the corridor and into his mom’s bedroom. The bed was empty. “Mom?!” He called again, rushing to the sheets to pull them back, incase he wasn’t seeing her straight. The bed was empty.

He turned on his heel, gripping himself as he barged into Jonathan’s room, where Steve’s make-shift bed still lay on the floor. Nobody was in either bed.

“Jonathan!” Will yelled, a scrape of something metal against the door had Will gasping, leaving Jonathan’s room and standing in the kitchen, watching as the front door started to rattle.

Will screamed, his chest pounding again as his mind told him to Run! Get away! Get away from that thing!

He backed away, into the dining table, making the ashtray wobble and fall onto the floor with a crash. The rattle of the door stilled, and Will was reminded of the gun in the shed outside.

He licked his dry lips as he panted, walking quietly as he could as he jogged towards the shed. He closed the door quietly behind himself, and his own panting filled his ears as he reached into the hidden cupboard for the gun.

He loaded it with shaking hands. As he put the last bullet in, a cold wrath flew over him, and the door started to rattle as the whole shed shook by an evil force outside. Will gasped for breath as he held the gun awkwardly between his skinny arms.

The gun felt bigger than he was, and he pointed it to the rattling door with his finger on the trigger, reading to brace his legs lest he go tumbling backwards. Ready to shoot. Like his dad had taught him and Jonathan, years ago.

The rattling stopped, and Will felt a warmth coat his skin. The room appeared to become brighter, and Will glanced up at the lightbulb ahead. It dangled from the centre of the sheds roof, glowing brighter, and brighter. Until it started to hurt Will’s eyes, and he glanced away for just a second, and his fingers went slack on the gun in his hands.

And suddenly, long wet arms were wrapped around him, and Will’s scream was muffled by a taloned hand covering his entire skull.

And suddenly, he dropped the gun, and he was gone.

<~>

Steven shot awake, a sharp intake of breath being drawn in by his desperate lungs. Two surrounding people started calling for him, calling his name, asking if he was okay.

“Will.” Steven choked out, coughing dry blood onto his lap. A rough hand stroked across his pat, thumping him gently.

“It’s Will.” Steve choked around his words, glancing up at Hopper with wide eyes and a dripping nose.

Hopper stared, before shooting up to the door, grabbing his coat, and leaving the cabin.

“Steve?” Jane called him, wiping a soft tissue under his nose, across his top lip. Steve was too tired to flinch away. “Is Will okay? What happened?”

“He’s…” Steve shook his head, grasping for breath, for words to explain.

A deep pull inside his chest, nagging his mind that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Steven shook his head, lost for words. “Will, he’s hurt.”

“Hurt?” Jane insisted, glancing up at the door and back to Steve. “What do you mean hurt, how do you know?”

“Bad man.” Steve whispered, wiping at his nose absently as he shook his head stiffly. “A bad man.”

Jane stared with wide eyes.

<~>

At a more appropriate hour, Joyce sat in Hopper’s precinct office fretting her fingers between her teeth.

“And you last saw him this morning?” Hopper asked as he wrote Joyce’s statement in scratching letters, on a notepad he had barely used. The last statement he took was for Benny, when he found teenagers taking rats out of his trash and stomping on them repeatedly. That was five years ago, and before the disappearance of Will, that was the most intense case Hopper had dealt with in Hawkins.

Now, kids were appearing out of nowhere, talking about bad places and bad men hurting them, and kids were also disappearing.

“Yes!” Joyce yelled, standing and looking over Hopper were he sat at his desk. “Before school. He ate his breakfast, and I told Jonathan to be home for his brother, but he wasn’t because he took on another shift-“ Joyce broke down, pulling her hands up to her face and sobbing into them. “I told him to be there!”

“Okay. Okay, Joyce just.. sit down.” He spoke quietly, standing and guiding her to sit across from him, he sat back down this time leaning over the desk and holding her smaller hand in his. She sniffled, tears still streaming. “We’ll find him. Okay? I’ll ask the kids and their parents, and we’ll get down to the bottom of this, and we’ll find him.”

Joyce nodded, wiping at her soaked face with her free hand. “We’ll find him.”

Hopper smiled gently. In the back of his mind, he thought back to the two suited men who had asked after a missing child. He hoped Will hadn’t got caught in their cold, unfeeling hands.

Hopper would call and ask Steve to elaborate on what he knew later. He refrained from telling Joyce that Steve had sensed something wrong with Will before anyone could realise he was missing.

He would call them on his lunch break.

<~>

“Seven, hold my hand please.”

Seven took Papa’s hand, peering up at the white haired man. White walls, wall halls, white hair. Seven blinked at the bright light surrounding.

“I want to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

“Friends?” Seven’s tiny voice asked timidly. He gripped Papa’s hand tighter as they passed the room he was not allowed to enter. Seven had a distant memory of games, and bright colours painting the walls in straight lines. He didn’t remember the reason he wasn’t allowed inside.

“Some people I know, who I want you to meet.” They turned the corner, down the next white hallway.

“Okay.” Seven whispered.

They walked into another bright room, where two men in black suits sat behind a grey metal table. Their wrists were cuffed tight enough to dig into their skin, leaving red bruises around tan skin. The cuffs were tied to the bar built into the table, and Seven noticed their split lips and puffed cheeks. Like they had been hit, repeatedly.

Seven tried to shuffle back, but large hands gripping his slender shoulders.

“Seven.” Papa spoke sternly, pushing him forwards and making Seven step closer. He glanced between the two battered men fleetingly, his chests rising and falling at the sight. Their bruised, black eyes begged Seven for mercy.

“I don’t want you to hurt them, Seven.” Papa’s prior on his shoulders tightened, and the little boy winced as Papa’s nails dug into his skin.

“I would like you to-“

“You’re a monster!”

Seven gasped, a quick intake of breath as he looked to the man sat on his left. He was shuffling closer in his chair, his face swollen and dripping blood onto the table. Seven gulped as the man yelled, at Papa.

“Making a kid do this! Be apart of this!” The man hissed, his swollen lips making him lisp. He was no less intimidating.

Papa didn’t reply, and Seven was entranced by the man before him, yelling and defying so easily to Papa. Seven had never dreamed of it, afraid of punishment. Of the dark room at the end of the hall, left to cry and kick and scream.

“Kid, son.” The man tried getting closer, but the door opened behind Seven. Footsteps came closer, and as the guards went to reach him, he spoke quickly. “Remember this name. Owens. He’ll get you out, and the other kids. He won’t leave you in here, soon you’ll be safe from that sicko! I promise you. You’re going to be saved-“

A baton to the mouth shut the man up, knocking him out as the guard kept hitting him over and over.

Seven glanced quickly to the other man cuffed, and he had his body downcast in defeat, wincing at each hit.

Seven looked back to the limp body still being whacked, and started flinching at each wet hit of the baton against the defiant man’s skin.

Papa’s hand lifted off his shoulder gently, the other still gripping him tight. The guard glanced up, before putting his baton away and uncuffing the man with ease. Papa’s hand rested back onto Seven’s shoulder, and the little boy watched the blood trail away as the body was dragged.

His wide eyes startled to Papa, who spoke quietly into his ear where he knelt by his side.

“Seven, I would like you to see into that man’s mind.” Seven snapped his head to Papa, leaning away to look across the man’s serious face. Papa nodded, and gripped his shoulder again.

Seven had never done that, at least not in person. He was good at spying, through phone calls and radios, and repeating the words through speakers. But never minds, never in person…

“Concentrate.” Papa nodded towards the man, who was breathing heavily, wheezing past bruised swollen lips. Blood dripping down the side, one eye puffed with bruised and turning a purple-mixed-black around the edges.

“You said…” Seven whispered, and Papa snapped his head back to the little boy. “Don’t hurt friends.” He repeated the words, and Papa glanced back to the man.

“He has been bad. Naughty.” Papa shook his head. “He must be punished.”

“Dark room?” Seven whispered in horror, eyes blowing wide. Papa nodded, and Seven looked to the man cuffed to the table.

He looked pathetic.

Papa stood to his full height, stepping away to watch as Seven lifted his palm, concentrating deeply.

The man started to shake his head, leaning forwards and mouthing silent words. Seven ignored his bruised lips, focusing on the dark.

The deep feeling of surrounding darkness, the fear of the unknown gaining in on him. The lock of the door, the slam of deafening silence. The inability to prove himself good enough. The anger to being put away, shut out from his routine.

The man started to choke, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his spine straightened out, pulling against the cuffs.

Seven’s fingers strained around the force he clenched around the man’s brain, catching sight of the man’s still moving lips, mouthing once word repeatedly.

Owens. Owens.

Seven felt his skin itch, blood trickling down his lips and pooling at his chin. His ears started to ring, his eyes started to strain. The grip became too much, and he let go with a deep gasp filling his lungs.

Seven’s legs fell out from under him. He would have dropped to his skinny knees, bruising them like the man’s battered face, if Papa’s hands hadn’t grabbed him by the underarms, standing him up again with a lift.

He caught his breath for a moment, looking down to his shaking hands as he levelled his breathing. He wiped at his face, smearing the fresh red blood across the side of his face, and looked up to watch the guard enter again, and whack the man across the side of his head. His chest stopped moving, and Seven knew he was dead.

The name rang his mind.

Owens…

“Seven.” His name was sneered, and Seven didn’t turn to Papa. He watched the dead body, waiting for the chest to rise, for a breath to sound past the red swollen lips.

The hands under his arms flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly. Seven felt sick, bile rising up his throat. He gagged at the dribbling blood down the side of the man’s temple.

Papa’s grip on his shoulders lessened, and reached down to grab his hand. “That will be all.” And Seven was herded out of the room with the dead man before he could throw up.

<~>

Hopper sighed, letting the three boys go back home under their parents escorting. He rubbed over his face, groaning into his palm. How their parents kept up with those annoying brats, Hopper would never know. And how Jane didn’t get annoyed by them every single day, he didn’t understand either.

As Dustin and Lucas left, bickering about ‘The Hobbit’ and ‘Mirkwood’, Mike stopped at the doorway. He turned slowly.

“Mr. Hopper?” He spoke quietly, glancing back to his friends walking off without them. He stepped closer, coming back into the room. Callahan was escorting the two little shits down the hallway, back to their parents in the waiting room. It was just him and Mike inside the office, now.

“Yeah, kid?” He grumbled, thinking through his next moves. He had yet to call Steve and Jane back home, who had opted to not go into questioning today, to help Steven, who seemed startled and less talkative than ever. Which, was saying something.

“Have you asked Steve about Will? Maybe he might know something.” Mike said quietly, and Hopper snapped his head up to the skinny boy.

“How’d you know that?”

Mike shuffled, fretting with his hands for a moment. “Will told me, on Friday.”

“Before he went missing?” Hopper’s mind ran to those people in suits, asking after a missing boy. Could they have found a replacement, having given up on finding Steve?

Mike nodded, and Hopper kissed his teeth. “Come back in here, kid.”

Mike sat back down, and went through everything he knew about the mysterious teen who showed up without a trace of existing before.

“Do you think they took Will?” Mike finished quietly, his face pale and looking more afraid than before. “The ‘bad men’ Steve said were after him?”

“I sure as hell hope not, kid.” Hopper grumbled, and called fuck it to the wind, as he reached for his walkie.

<~>

Two. One. Three.

A pattern of buzzes came from the walkie across the room.

Jane turned from Steve’s stilled form to look towards the walkie.

“It’s Hop.” She smiled gratefully, sitting up and padding towards the talkie on the nightstand by her bedroom door. Before she could reach it, it lifted off of the table and into her arms forcefully, sending her back a few stops as she stared at the object in shock.

When she turned back around to Steve, to ask if he had caught sight of the object moving in mid air, she watched him wipe away a trail of blood trickling down his top lip, a dried blood pool already coating the side of his sleeve.

“Did you…” She spoke breathlessly, unable to finish her words. To say what she saw.

He had moved the walkie talkie with his mind.

Steve nodded, and looked down to his lap, downcast and afraid. It seemed to be his default feeling.

“That’s so cool.” Jane grinned, and Steve snapped his head up to watch her come sit excitedly beside him.

“Cool?” He whispered fearfully, and Jane watched as his tapped his fingers together in pattern to self-soothe. She reached for his hand, and held it tightly.

“So cool.” She nodded definitely, and saw a smile perk across Steve’s lips. “How’d you do it? Did you learn it? Are you like a mutant?” She knew of the x-men from Dustin and Will, who ranted a lot about their silly nerd comics.

Steve shook his head, reaching for the walkie. Jane let him take it, and watched how Steve handled it with care.

“Taught.” He spoke roughly, his mouth forming the words but his sentences not sounding correct on his tongue. Jane wasn’t the best at English class either, so she couldn’t pick fun. “The lab.”

“The lab?” She felt her brow furrow. “The plower plant? Outside town?” She theorised, and Steve shrugged. “You’re from that lab?” To that, he nodded.

Jane looked away, picturing hospital beds and sharp needles stick through large syringes. She shivered.

“Is that the bad place?”

Steve nodded, looking off to the wall, seeing something that wasn’t quite there.

He nodded again. “Bad man. The bad place.”

“Shit.” She cursed, and at that moment the walkie started to crackle.

“This is Chief, do you read me home-base. Over.” Hopper’s voice crackled through static, and Jane reached for the talkie from between Steve’s gentle hands. He handed it towards her, and she took it with a grateful smile.

She stood as she spoke, trying not to pace.

“I read you, Chief. There has been an update to… the ward. Over.” Jane summarised as best she could, aware from both Will, and Steve, that someone could be listening. Even through the walkies, let alone the broken telephones.

“Roger that. Update me later. Over.” Hopper spoke quickly, like something had just come up and he needed to shut up quickly. Jane turned the walkie off, hearing nothing but static for a while.

She turned back to Steve and let out a breath. “We’ll tell Hopper when he gets home. Or, if he tries calling again.”

Steve looked distant, as if he was concentrating on an idea forming in his head. He looked like he wasn’t quite listening to Jane’s words, too interesting in his thoughts.

“Are you alright?” She asked gently, and Steve looked up to her.

“I can look for Will.” Steve nodded, defiantly. Jane blinked, her mouth forming an ‘o’ in shock.

“How? You can’t leave, not with them looking for you.”

Instead of explaining, Steve stood and stepped closer, gently slipping the walkie from between Jane’s hands and fiddling with the sides. Nothing seemed to work, and he thrust it back towards her.

“Noise.” He shook the thing, and Jane quirked her eyebrow in confusion. Did he want her to call Hopper back? “The ‘shhh’ noise.” Steve tried explaining, and Jane could see he was getting upset with his own lack of vocabulary. Maybe he could sit in on her homework, learn a little more before whilst he was here.

“The static?” she questioned, and Steve nodded excitedly, ecstatic to be understood. “Right.” She turned the dial all the way left, making the static louder as she went. When it reached the end of the turning point, Jane winced at the ear-grating noise. “Is that okay?”

Steve nodded, taking the talkie gently from her and placing it on her coffee table. He sat before it, and Jane came closer, sitting by his side and watching intently.

Seven sat with his legs crossed, and covered his eyes with each palm and levelled his breathing. Jane watched with wide eyes, taking in the sight of Steve’s levelled breathing and his clear concentration.

After a moment too long of heavy breathing and too-loud static, Steve sighed and pulled his hands away from his face. His nose didn’t bleed, and Jane knew the attempt of… whatever it was Steve hoped for, hadn’t worked.

He turned to her, his eyes blinking and adjusting to the cabins light after being closed for so long. “Uh… picture?” He tried, miming a square with his fingers. “Of Will. And… eye cover?” Steve stumbled, but Jane understood well enough.

She nodded, standing up. “Got it.” She went into her room, finding the framed picture of the five of them winning their science fair last year. Five smiling faces, framed on her bedside beside her lamp. She went into her vanity’s cupboard, finding an old bandana she used for a Halloween costume years ago. She came rushing back to Steven, dropping to her knees beside him, and presenting him with the goods.

He smiled, and took them gently.

“Do you need help tying it?” Jane offered, and as Steve fixed the picture on the coffee table, he nodded. Once he was ready, Jane sat on the couch behind him and tied the bandana gently. “Is that good? Or too tight?” She fumbled with the front, making sure it was dark enough. Seen as his hands weren’t dark enough before.

Steven nodded, and Jand fixed herself beside him again, where she sat previous.

She watched Steve take deep breaths through his nose, his hands resting on each opposite side to the frame standing before him on the coffee table. She watched with bated breath, as Steve’s mouth opened gently.

“Will?” He spoke hesitantly, quietly. As if he was careful not to wake him. Jane jumped up, sitting on her knees as she shuffled closer, trying to hear Will through Steve’s body.

“Is that Will? Do you see him?” Jane spoke quickly, her breath turning heavy and quick.

Steve nodded.

“Will, it’s me…” The static of the walkie started to crackle, catching Jane’s attention. She turned away from Steve for a moment, and reached for the walkie. “No.” Steve’s hand gripped her wrist, gently but firm enough to stop her in her tracks.

She pulled away, gulping down the lump in her throat, and Steve’s hand let go as she did.

“Will, we are looking for you.” His sentences sounded more concise as he comforted Will, supposedly through his mind.

“Stay safe.” Steve whispered, and the crackle of the static got stronger, distorting the concise sound with jitters and small screeches. She went to reach for it again, but composed herself. “Run, Will.” Jane snapped her head to Steve, where his nose started to bleed from both nostrils, and his skin started to become pale. “Will, run away. Quick. And hide.” He instructed, although Jane watched his chest start to heave, his body unable to keep up with his hyperventilating.

“Run!” Steve yelled, bulbs flashing across the house for a moment. Jane watched them quickly, as a screeching filled the cabin. It came from the walkie talkie.

“Run!” Steve screamed again, before pulling the bandana off of his head and glancing around desperately.

“I’m here!” Jane pulled herself forwards shuffling closer on her knees to wrap her arms around Steve’s shaking body. “Steve, you found him! Thank you! Are you okay? How did you do that?”

Steve didn’t answer, his shaking breath catching up to itself as he was held tightly in Jane’s arms. The girl leaned away, wiping at blood from his nose with her thumbs. “Thank you, Steve!” She called, in near tears herself.

Steve nodded, and his hand gripped the side of Jane’s arm. He didn’t have to reply verbally, she understood clear as day what he meant.

You’re welcome.

Chapter Text

Seven watched the little boy, cold to the touch and shivering in his slime-covered clothes. His lips were pale blue, his body even paler; he looked like he was dying. Seven had seen death before, and poor little Will was nearing the cold, deep empty space of the afterlife.

He had told him to run. Run, Will! When the creature started to clamber closer, crawling and snarling with petal teeth and a mean growl. Seven had felt his body freeze, staring down the creature circling the boy in The Other World. He screamed, made Will run, regardless of his painful exhaustion. Seven understood, that Will just wanted to hide until the pain ended, but Seven couldn’t come find him if he was hiding.

Because Seven would find him. He was sure he would.

Jane was rushing around the cabin, throwing baggy clothes his way, alongside gloves, goggles, and long pants that would drown Steve’s entire figure.

“We need to tell the others!” She had yelled, checking the clock. Steve heard her mumble ‘after three, great’, which he wasn’t too sure what that meant. He wasn’t very good with his numbers, still. Just the thought of them gave him a headache.

Jane came closer, another pair of gloves in her hands. “Would these fit better?” Her cheeks were flushed from her rushing, and Steve stared with wide eyes.

She groaned. “Come on!” She clapped her hands, and Steve threw himself to his feet, picking up the bundle of clothes, confused as to what he was being rushed to do. “What- no. Steve!” She groaned, grabbing the shirt out of the bundle, and chucking the rest to the floor between them. “Put all of this on! We need to get the others on their way home from school, and tell them what you saw!”

He felt his face pale, his body tensing as his hands gripped the shirt thrusted into his hold.

They couldn’t know.

It was risk enough showing Jane his abilities, a risk that put her in danger more than it did Seven. It was selfish enough that one of them knew, let alone the rest of the innocent children.

Steve felt his mouth open and close, flapping on words he couldn’t understand. Unsure how to explain, he dropped the clothes, and shook his head adamantly.

“No.” He said sternly, and Jane stared with her mouth agape.

“‘No’?” She repeated, her tone indifferent with shock, rush, and annoyance. Steve shuffled backwards a little, scuffing his socked foot against the floor. He tapped his thumb to each finger tip in a clear rhythm.

“No.” He repeated, with less of his chest protruding through his tone this time. He sat back down, and his fingers kept tapping. Index, middle, ring, pinkie. Repeat.

“Why not?!” She gestured towards the clothes, grabbing at the shirt he picked up before and thrusting it between them as she sat by Steve’s side. “You won’t get caught, that’s what the disguise is for. Not even Hopper has to know you left!” She tried to reason, and Seven felt a huff of air puffing out of his nostrils in anger. She didn’t understand, and that was no fault of Jane’s. Seven just couldn’t say the words he wanted, they just didn’t come out right.

“No, not that. Caught, no. My…” He groaned slightly, looking down at his palms by his lap and clenching his fingers tightly. “They can’t know.”

“Oh…” Jane suddenly deflated, and if the situation was so dire Steve was sure he would have felt prideful of his sentence, although broken. She understood him, at least. “We can’t do it without them. And- you can trust them, my friends! We have pacts, and promises. ‘Friends don’t lie’, we say.”

Steve peered to her, and she smiled gently. “We’ve been friends forever, we don’t keep secrets from each other. We don’t lie, we’ve never lied to each other. And Will… he means so much to us, to all of us. If you can help us save him, it would mean the world.”

“‘Friends don’t lie’?” Steve repeated, the words sounding strange on his tongue. Jane nodded, encouragingly.

“It’s our pact, made on the first day I met them all. Pact means… a promise, something you can’t break. Nobody in our party- thats our group name- can break the pact. So we can’t lie to them, especially not about Will.”

Steve looked down at himself, and picking up the lone baggy sweatpants by Jane’s side. He couldn’t exactly save Will on his own, anyway. “The party.” He nodded finitely, and Jane understood with a pleased grin.

“I’ll use the walkie and see if they’re home yet. I’ll ask them to meet at the track.”

As Steve got dressed, he wondered what exactly meeting at ‘the track’ entailed.

——

The track turned out to be a train-track, where trains drove past. Barely any came through the town, called Hawkins, and it was even less of a chance that someone would be walking by. So, Jane reassured, it was the perfect meeting place if you didn’t want to be seen.

And for Seven, being seen was life or death.

Three boys came walking up the slight hill to the tracks, walking beside bikes that they gripped in sweaty palms. One boy, with curlier hair than the rest, seemed to be panting a little.

“Dustin, Lucas. This is Steve.” Jane said proudly, glancing up to the mentioned lab experiment where he no-doubt stood awkwardly as the children gawked up at him. “Wave.” Jane whispered through her teeth, and Steve’s hand shot up and almost hit her in the face. He dropped it, and couldn’t quite meet their eyes.

“This is the guy who saw Will?” The darker skinned boy spoke, with a sneer between his teeth. Seven knew the tone of being disliked.

“Yeah. With his super powers.” Jane exclaimed, and Steve felt his eyes blow wide. He gripped at her arm, and the palest boy called at him to stop, as Steve pulled his close. He placed his finger up to his lips, and Jane winced. “Right… sorry, Steve.” She turned back to the boys, staring with wide eyes. Steve’s own were filled with fear. “Steve’s from the lab. He has super powers. We can’t say it too loudly, because people are listening.” Jane whispered.

Steven let go of her arm, and brushed his palm against his side, ridding himself of the feeling of his bare skin against hers. “Bad men.”

“The same men who took Will?” The pale boy yelled, and Steve nodded, with his finger placed back on his lips.

“Cool.” The curly haired boy, who had long since stopped panting, gawked up to Steve with a slight grin on his lips. Steve was unsure how to react.

“Thank you.” He said awkwardly, the words sitting weird on his tongue. He flushed red, embarrassed about his inability to speak. These children were younger than he was, and seemed better at speaking aloud than he ever remembered being. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry, jealous even.

The curlier haired boy was whacked in the side by the pale one, who lectured about focusing at the task at hand. The pale boy then turned to Steven, and he felt the urge to stumble back a step against the boys piercing gaze.

“So?” He asked, his tone accusatory as he beckoned Seven to speak. “What did you see? How did you see Will? Where is he?”

“I told you,” Jane groaned, pushing the pale boy gently at the shoulder. “He used his powers.”

“So where is he?” Lucas asked, raising his eyebrows to Steven. Who gulped, and placed his fingers to his temple. He placed his other hand cupped over his eyes to cast shadows behind his eyelids. He then pointing the fingers tapping his temple downwards, to the floor. He opened his eyes, dropping his hand, and mimicked wiping his nose.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Lucas yelled, and beside him Dustin kept gawking. Steven tried a small smile to the boy, as Jane argued and explained better how Steve’s powers worked from her limited perspective. Dustin smiled back, revealing the lack of front teeth at the top of his mouth. Steven motioned to his own mouth, speaking over the arguing children’s heads.

“Teeth.” He spoke quietly, and Dustin could not have understood him over the arguing below, if it weren’t for Steve’s miming.

“Yeah, I have a condition. Cleidocranial dysplasia.” He shrugged at the name, as if the words he spoke Steve should understand. He felt his ears burn, and his face turn red.

He nodded, feigning understanding of the boys speech. Dustin did not comment, so Steven thought he must’ve fooled the boy. He wiped his sweating palms against his jeans.

“Right!” Jane yelled, cutting through the conversation. “Steve has superpowers.” She spoke quietly. “He used them to find Will, who is… underground. Or something. We aren’t sure, but Steve thinks he can get him home!”

“Upside down.” Steven interjected, the word flying to his brain as fast as a lightbulb being turned on. The smaller children gave him a confused look, and he stumbled. Had he said the word wrong. “Downside… up?” He tried, but Lucas groaned.

“We know what upside down means!” He yelled, and was instantly shushed by both Jane and Dustin. Lucas only rolled his eyes. “This is stupid.”

“This is our only way to get Will back!” Jane yelled, and Steve looked around frantically, afraid someone, somewhere, was still listening. “It’s the only thing we have.” She spoke quietly, and when Steve turned back to the children, he saw Jane place her hand gently on Lucas’ arm.

He nodded, although he didn’t seem very excited. Steve wondered how sad it must be to miss someone.

“Okay.” Lucas took a breath. “What are we going to do?”

——

Steve found himself surrounded by the children back in Hopper’s cabin, with the blindfold in his hands and the TV spraying static sounds across the living room.

Jane placed a hand on his knee, and Steven nodded his head to signal he was ready. It seemed the static picked up as Dustin tied the blindfold behind his head.

…

….

…..

“Will?” Seven called out into the abyss. It was dark, and the floor was wet. He felt it stick to his skin, and a cold chill ran through him as he noticed the small pale creature huddled in the void.

He padded closer, reaching with a shaking hand towards the red jacket and blue skin. Steve touched Will’s shoulder, and the shivering boy startled and snapped his head up. He looked straight through Seven, and he held his breath as the boy searched frantically for whatever touched him.

“Will.” He called gently, louder than before. “Will, it’s Steve.” The name given to him by the boy still sounded foreign on his tongue, although it did not go unheard.

Will’s brow furrowed, and he inched closer like he was straining to hear. Seven licked his lips, and yelled louder.

“Will!” And the boy startled back, sitting up excitedly, although fear wracked his face. “Will, can you hear me!”

He opened his mouth, but a snarl sounded from Seven’s left. They both snapped their head to the side, but alas, all Seven noticed was the dark abyss surrounding the void. He turned back to the boy, hands shaking. He could feel the blood trickling down his top lip.

“Don’t speak. Nod, or shake.” Will nodded, and Seven continued. “You can hear me.” Seven asked in confirmation, and Seven smiled slight. A snarl, and his smile vanished again.

“Are you okay?” He asked weakly, and Will hesitated before shaking his head. “What…” Seven tried, but realised Will would not be able to answer the questions they needed, if he were to only answer yes, or no.

“It’s home.” He whispered, very slightly. Seven stayed very, very still. “It’s like home. But-“ Scratching, against the walls surrounding Will, sounded to Seven. His winced, as Will inhaled a shocked breath. “It’s so dark.”

“Scary?” Seven tried, and Will nodded. The little boy wrapped arms around his knees, which pulled up to his chest tightly. His shoulders shook.

“It’s so dark.” Will sobbed, and his sobbing turned to yelling.

Multiple thrill voices screamed and yelled at him, and the voices overtook the sound of the static, and Will floated away into cloud as Seven came too.

He pulled the blindfold off, barely ruffling his short hair, and set it in his lap as the children kept screaming.

“He’d upside down.” Steve concluded, his head nodding slightly. “Upside down…” he whispered.

“Stop saying that!” Lucas groaned.

“How do we get to the upside down?” Dustin asked, shuffling closer to Steve and near yelling in his ear. “How do we get to Will?”

“Can we even go to the upside down?” Mike yelled also, and Seven knocked a little where he sat. Jane must have noticed, and pushed them all back as Steve started humming under his breath, lulling his brain of the frantic voices with his own controlled sound.

“Let him breathe!” Jane scolded, turning to Steve and letting him calm down before asking. “/Can/ we get to the upside down, Steve?”

Steven toon a breath, before he nodded, reaching the other children’s eyes. “A walk-through.” Steve offered, his words jumbled. He could picture what he wanted to say, and winced and groaned at his own stupidity at not being able to say it.

“A walk-through… like a gate? Or a portal? Is it another dimension?” Dustin offered, and the words started to make sense in Steve’s head.

“Yes. Port-all. Dime-… dimensh…”

“Dimension.” Dustin finished, and he turned to his friends with an ecstatic, toothless grin. “It’s another world. Will, somehow, followed a gate through a different world.”

The others started to nod, and Mike’s brow furrowed. “Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he was forced, or did it accidentally.” Dustin shrugged.

“Maybe it was invisible.” Jane offered, and Dustin nodded.

“Or maybe somebody pushed him.” Lucas spoke with horror, and Jane’s face turned pale.

“The bad men?” She looked to Steve, and he nodded.

“The bad men.”

——

Joyce had not slept. She had not showered, she had not eaten. Attaching the lights to the walls, across the house, requiring the new phone after it exploded. She knew his little boys breath, that /was/ Will breathing.

The alphabet spelled out on her wall, above each letter hung a Christmas light designated to each word.

It reached ten, and Jonathan was still out. She sat on the sofa and stared at the alphabet painted in black paint across her wall.

“Will…” She spoke with shaking breath. “Will, baby. Are you there?”

Y
E
S

Joyce cried a sigh of relief.

Before she could ask a question, ask if her baby was alright. Or if he was safe. Where he was, why couldn’t he come back. Tell him that she would find him. That she would find him, and save him, a take him home-

H
E
L
P

Her heart sunk.

F
R
O
M

…

S
T
E
V
E

Joyce’s breath ran dry, her chest caught on her sob.

The bad men…

Had they taken her boy?

Chapter Text

“What the hell is this?!” Hopper yells after Jane opens the door. Steve had not heard the two, one, three, knock over the children’s yelling and his incessant headache from the use of his powers /and/ said children’s yelling.

He had turned around, and saw Hopper stood defiantly with his hands on his hips, his face shocked and irritated at the unannounced guests in his cabin. Steven shuffled into himself, and fought the urge to slap his hands in worry.

“Jane wanted to show us Steve!” Dustin pointed an accusatory finger towards Steven, like he was the culprit who deserved blame. He shuffled further into himself, and hope he nor Dustin would be hit for his brash actions. “He contacted Will and- and we know where he is!”

Steve gasped as his eyes turned wide. Turning around to catch Hopper’s gaze, he cursed the idea of /more/ people being in danger, for his sake.

“What?” Hopper spoke quietly, although his words snapped at Steve no less. He flinched back into the corner of the sofa, trying to dig deeper into the sofa crease, until he became invisible to the eye.

“Dustin, shut up!” Jane scolded, grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it at the curly haired boy. It smacked him straight in the face, and he exclaimed a swear and an out roar returned across the angry children.

Steven pressed his palms across his ears, trying to muffle the yells.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he startled upwards. Looking to Hopper, who looked guilty for a moment, before he mentioned Steve to follow him into his bedroom as the children yelled.

Steve stood, and wordlessly slipped out of the room. His palms stayed firmly pressed across his ears, as he flinched at each muffled yell he heard.

He entered the bedroom, and Hopper closed the door behind him. It muffled the sound of the children yelling, and Steve hesitated to pull his hands away from his ears.

“It’s alright.” He distantly heard Hopper say, and he came into view with a soft look behind his eyes. “‘Cant really hear them in here.”

Steven nodded, and pulled his hands away in preparation to still hear the yelling. He heard them, distantly, across the cabin. Hopper had not lied to him.

“See?” Hopper asked gently, with a soft smile. He sat on the side of the bed, and pat the side. Steve sat beside him, but kept a clear distant between them. Hopper did not mention it.

“The brats said you found Will?” Hopper asked, and Steve nodded. “Okay.” Hopper took a breath, letting it out slowly as he seemed to think. Steve wondered if words failed him too. “Dustin said you… contacted him?”

Steve nodded, and opened his mouth to explain. He closed it, when no words could fathom the truth. Instead, he sat up a little straighter and placed his fingers against his temple. With the other, he covered his eyes as he had demonstrated to the kids. He then made a shushing sound with his tongue and teeth, and pressed harder against his temples. He opened his eyes for a moment, to find the radio on Hopper’s beside. He pointed to that as he made the shushing noises. He then-

“Static.” Hopper pointed out, and Steve nodded. He covered his eyes again. “A… blindfold? The dark?” He nodded.

He tapped his temples, breathing deeply.

“You… used static, and a blindfold, and you spoke to Will?” Hopper tried, and Steve dropped his hands, and stopped his shushing noise, to nod frantically.

“Yes.” He said excitedly, happy to be understood. “Upside down.” Steve’s brow furrowed. “Dime… dimench-“

“Dimension? ‘Upside down’ dimension? Is that where you are from?” Hopper tried, and Steve sighed as he shook his head.

“Will. In upside down. A new world. Not new… uhm…” Steve stumbled. “Not ours.” He spoke like he was asking a question, and Hopper thought through Steve’s words for a moment.

“A separate world?” Before picking the exact words Steve meant to say.

He nodded excitedly again. “A gate.” He copied what Dustin told him. “Will’s is in a dark, cold place. The upside down dime-en-shone.” The word sounded funny on his tongue, but Hopper understood.

He blew out a breath between his lips, and slapped his lap with his palms loudly. “Well. Shit. That does sound crazy.”

“Real.” Steve spoke adamantly. “It’s real. All of it.” Steve grabbed Hopper’s hand, and placed it against his own chest. The contact made something inside him twitch. “Friends don’t lie.”

Hopper looked at his face, like he was really looking into Steve, and he the teen did not reach the man’s eyes. Something softened in them.

“Alright kid.” He took his hand, and slapped Steve’s shoulder gently. “Alright. I believe you.”

Steve felt something in his chest soar at Hopper’s words, right where his hand had been.

—

Once Will had gone, presumably having to run away from whatever was in the house on his end, she cried, and found herself driving to Hopper’s cabin.

She didn’t expect to see the influx of children’s bikes thrown down to the side of the cabins porch, but once she reached the door and excited yelling reached her ears, she knew that the entire party must be taking refuge inside the tiny cabin also.

When she knocked, the house went silent.

There was a distinction hissing shush, and a slap against skin from inside. Footsteps neared, and Hopper opened the door a tad, and sighed when he realised who it was.

“I need to talk to-“ She went to speak, but Hopper placed his finger against his lips, opening the door wider for Joyce to enter.

She stepped through, and bought sight of the wide-eyed children in the living room, staring up at her with pale faces. When the door closed behind her, and the sound of multiple locks clicked into place, the room erupted in sound again.

“We know where Will is!”

“Hopper can take us there!”

“It will all be fine, Mrs. Byers! We can save Will!”

“Steve showed us where he was!”

“Alright- alright!” Hopper yelled beside her, his arms up as he groaned in annoyance. Rubbing his temples, he took a breath as the children kept mumbling, no less excitedly than before.

Joyce turned to Hopper with worry, wringing her hands in front of herself. “Where is Steve? Will said he helped him.”

Hopper turned to her with confusion, still rubbing his head. She told herself, she did not have time to soothe his headache, she needed to save her boy.

“You spoke to Will?” Hopper asked, and Joyce thought back to her discovery with the alphabet painted on her wall.

“With the lights.” She nodded, and Hopper stared.

“Well,” He sighed, dropping his hand. “That’s not the craziest thing I’ve heard today.” He gestured to her side, and Joyce turned towards Hopper’s bedroom door, where Steve peaked around the doorframe with a timid little look on his face.

She smiled softly, tears springing to her eyes. She rushed towards him, and she could see his taller body tense up the closer she got. She wasted no time hugging the boy tightly.

“Thank you.” She whispered, and stoked over the strange boys back. “He said you helped him.”

She felt a timid nod against her shoulder, and if there were a better word to describe Steve, it escaped Joyce’s mind. Timid.

“What I could.” He said quietly, and slowly Joyce felt his hands raise, and one placed itself into her hair, and the other across her back. His body still turned stiff against her embrace, but she only needed to squeeze him tighter.

They stayed in each other’s company for a moment, before Joyce pulled away. She kept her hands on the boys skinny forearms, and wiped her tears with a smile.

“Now,” She took a breath. “How can we get him home?”

—

“Papa?” Seven asked quietly, stroking over the older man’s hand with his thumb. They walked down the hallway, to the rainbow room, quietly. He had deserved a day on his own, Papa said, for his good work.

Seven bristled at the praise.

“Yes, Number Seven?” Papa spoke down to him, there was a large distance between them. Seven was very, very small.

“Can Peter come?” Seven felt Papa grip his hand tighter, so tight it started to ache. He winced, and almost pulled away.

They reached the rainbow room’s front doors, and Papa had not answered his question.

“Papa, can-“ Seven tried repeated, as the door opened and he was guided inside by a hand on his small, tiny shoulder.

“Go and play on your own, Seven. Enjoy.” Papa spoke sternly, and Seven knew he had said something wrong. He just could not figure out what it was.

—

“A gate?” Joyce repeated, sat close to Steve and holding his hand gently. He seemed to be rocking where he sat on the sofa beside her, and Joyce hoped that was not because the boy was nervous.

Being surrounded by so many excited, eager children would worry her too.

“What does that mean?” She asked, trying to figure out if she had noticed any inter dimensional portals lying around Hawkins that her baby could have just easily fallen into.

But Steve had said it was a bad man. One of the bad men had taken her boy, Steve had been sure of it. How had one of these men, who had presumably hurt Steve, forced her boy into a different dimension?

“We don’t know.” Dustin shook his head, the child most likely to speak his mind. He had grabbed a notepad and pen from his usually-overflowing backpack, and started to write cryptic notes. Steve was staring holes through the paper, and Joyce understood why. They would burn the notes later. “Maybe it opened up, and then closed.”

“Maybe /something/ opened it?” Lucas asked, his face a picture of worry.

Steve started to nod, and it seemed everyone turned to the boy quickly.

“Opened. Closed.” He mimed with his free hand, his rocking stilled for a moment. “A bad man.”

“One of the bad men? Just the one?” Joyce asked, and Steve nodded. “How could only one man open the portal? Wouldn’t it take more than one person to…” She trailed off with a groan, unsure of what she was saying.

The children were talking about their silly game again, connecting the fictional monsters to the very real situation of her little boy going missing to ‘bad men.’

She took a shaking breath, and Steve turned to her shyly. He squeezed her hand where it lay in hers, and she squeezed back with a trying smile. Joyce knew it appeared more as a grimace.

“Sorry.” He whispered very, very quietly. Joyce stilled, staring at the boys fearful eyes. His eyes blown wide, appearing younger than his age. She felt her body soften, as she brushed her thumb against the back of Steve’s pale, skinny hand.

“Oh, dear.” She shook her head. “This wasn’t your fault.”

The haunted look behind those young eyes spoke differently.

——

“Is there any way you could explain more?” Steve was being asked, and he turned his head up to catch Hopper’s gaze. He was sat on the edge of the armchair, perched on the very edge with his hands interlinked at his lap. He bristled at the eyes turning to him, staring at him from where the children sat on the floor. “About what you know regarding the upside down world?”

Steven’s mouth opened slightly, a fragmented explanation ready to leave his lips. But the sight of the children looking up to him, froze the words on his lips.

“I can’t.” He shook his head, and timidly looked to Joyce through his eyelashes, as he gestured towards the children. “Unsafe.” He whispered, and Joyce nodded.

She stood, clapping her hands once and gesturing towards Jane’s bedroom door. “Alright, out.”

The children cried an out-roar, and Steven pressed his palms tightly against his ears as the children yelled outlandishly.

“Enough!” Hopper silenced them, pointing to the door. Steven watched with wet eyes, as the children sulked towards Jane’s bedroom. The girl placed her hand against Steven’s back gently as she passed, as Dustin whispered his apologies for yelling.

Only once all the children were out, did Steve drop his hands.

“Alright.” Hopper shuffled closer, impossibly staying on the edge of the chair without falling. “Tell us what you know.”

“Uhm…” Steve wiped his palms against his lap anxiously. The flood of information in memory appeared before his eyes, and details began to mix into one memory and the other. He shook his head, clearing his head as he took a breath.

Focus. They needed important information, everything he knew on the different dime… dime… the upside down. They needed to figure out how to get in, and save Will.

But something lurked behind the separate world, something dark and evil. Something that wanted to kill.

Petals for a face. Sharp teeth, a screeching roar.

Yes. Steve remembered. He remembered clearly.

Seven remembered being submerged in the bathtub, the massive helmet heavy and digging into his collar bones where it rested around his shoulders. He remembered being ordered to look for a man, a man with moustache that curled at the edges. He remembered his nerves being shot, he remembered the grating overstimulation he felt surrounding him inside that tank.

He looked stupid too. In a massive suit with a window at the front. The suit he wore on his frail body exaggerated every bone protruding through his skin. He looked disgusting, and sick. The water was cold, and made his breathing go fast.

The void was wet. As it always was. Seven remembered wet feet, and padding through with a grimace at each step. He remembered the distantly cold voice booming from far away, echoing down the void. Seven remembered continually walking, the wet puddles below making gross wet sounds at each step.

When he reached the man, he remembered mouthing what the man with the moustache said, and distantly heard it through the speakers in the lab, although they sounded furthermore distant than the man had in the void.

Seven remembered finishing, being told to stop. He remembered the way the moustached man turned to dust, and Seven remembered turning around to see the petal-faced monster screeching down at him.

It loomed over his body, black claws leaning over his face where his neck craned to catch sight of the drooling, gooey monster screaming spores into his face.

Seven did not remember screaming. He remembered the wet explosion of the doctor’s head snapping in half.

Seven remembered the dark room, where he was locked away to be punished. He remembered screaming then, the black monster appearing before his blind eyes in the dark. It screeched and reached its claws at Seven’s face, trying to kill him.

Seven remembered its anger.

“A monster.” Seven spoke, not wanting to remember anymore. “A black, flower monster.” Steve turned to look up at the adults’ faces. “That is what took Will.”

They sat in silence, the whispering of the children in the other room shushing. The door slammed open.

Hopper groaned. “I just told you-“ He stood, his arms out wide to point back into Jane’s bedroom.

The children ran out, Mike at the front of the party. He stood before Steve with a heavy chest.

“The monster. Did it look like…” Mike’s closed palm revealed itself in front of Steve, a little black figure with an open, petal mouth, laid there. “Like this?”

Steve nodded with wet eyes. “Yes.” He choked, and there was silence across the cabin.

“Yes.” Seven repeated. “That is the monster.” He licked the figure up delicately.

Screaming, his nostrils dribbling blood, the ground wet and the air wet and Seven could not breathe in that tank.

He gripped the figure tightly between his fingers. “Yes.”

——

A four week suspension from high-school does sound fun, but Eddie could assure you that it was not. It really, really was not any fun at all.

Especially because he was forced to work. ‘Learn from his mistakes’ was stupid. He swore not to spray paint the side of the school again, that should be enough punishment!

Having to close the shop on his own was stupid, too. Eddie had always said- well, his uncle Wayne had always said; that there was something eerie about Hawkins. Eddie knew he meant how perfect everyone seemed, or how perfect everyone felt the /need/ to be seemed. Like the Wheelers.

And maybe Eddie had read too many comics, and played too much D&D, but Eddie trusted his gut: something was most definitely, strange about Hawkins.

So, closing up the shop at nine at night, when it was already pitch dark outside and a goddamn kid was missing, Eddie could not have felt the slightest bit ashamed of how alert he felt.

He could feel the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end as he turned towards the front doors, and locked them tight. He gave them an experimental push, a pull, and concluded the shop officially locked up for the night.

He placed his key in his pocket, lest his manager have a shit-fit /again/ because he lost the spare key cut. And when he turned, his breath ran from his chest.

Stalking across the dark parking lot, barely lit by the broken streetlight nearby, loomed a dark figure with long, sharp fingers. And a strangely pointed mouth.

Eddie stayed very, incredibly, impossibly still.

Pressed against the shops locked front doors, he watched the thing stomp across the carpark, heading for Loch Nora on Eddie’s right.

“Fuck.” He gulped, and only moved when the thing was out of sight.

He took off running, his car key fumbled between his numb fingers. In fact, his entire body was numb. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Eddie yelled in a whisper, his legs pumping as fast as they could so he could reach the truck, and get the fuck out of there.

He reached the car, and barely felt a thing as he swore there was a snarl atop the truck. Oh god, the thing was above him.

He hit the gas quick, with the truck popping and spluttering. “Fuck fuck!” He screamed, slamming the steering wheel in fear as he drove maniacally down the street, thankful the shitty little town - which apparently housed literal monsters now - seemed to stop at night.

It wasn’t until he reached the trailer park, and parked his trust haphazardly in front of his uncles trailer, and slammed the door behind himself, that he seemed to feel his body again.

Fuck.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Nancy snuck her way to the lavish bathroom of Tommy Hagun’s massive house, making her escape after Barb had asked her shyly to give her and Tommy a little space. She had winked as she left them by the pool outside.

Truthfully, she was glad for the escape. Nancy wasn’t sure she was the party type. Everyone else around her seemed to be having a good time. Albeit, there weren’t many invited to Tommy Hagun’s, and truth be told Nancy was unsure /how/ Barb got them both to be on the exclusive list of attendee’s.

Maybe it was because she didn’t know anyone but Barb, at least not as much as the others knew themselves. Everyone knew Carol from the rumours told about her, which Nancy always thought were untrue. Jason Carver was just a douche. June Houser was nice, at least to Nancy’s face. She swore she could see the other journalist student smirking behind her hand, whispering into Carol’s ear whilst looking straight at Nancy.

She sat on the toilet let, scrubbing a hand over her face with a sigh. It was all bullshit, and she didn’t know why she cared. But when she closed her eyes, and she saw June laughing at her and Barb, not with them. And Barb’s love struck face pointed to Tommy when the boy wasn’t looking. When Tommy was staring right at Carol’s ass.

Bullshit. It was all bullshit.

Nancy didn’t think the night could get any worse.

Until she heard Barb’s deafening scream.

Nancy couldn’t feel her body as she ran, pushing past Jason Carver’s stupid face and slamming through the doors to the pool.

Where she saw Tommy, pacing anxiously, and no sign of Barb.

She searched frantically, her ears turning deaf on the other’s yelling towards Tommy, yelling if he was alright, asking what happened.

Nancy’d eyes searched frantically, blown wide as her hands gripped into fists, and her chest rose and fell drastically. She stepped closer to the edge of the pool, and the water was still, as if it had never been touched before. She knelt down by the poolside, looking up to the woods ahead, over the thin, short fence surrounding the back garden.

There was a rustle of the trees ahead of her, the surrounding trees still. The branches over the fence rustled, and moved with sign of life.

She shot up, and ran straight into Tommy.

Her body shot back into place, as if she could see her surroundings again. For a split second, her mind was distracted from Barb’s missing face.

Tommy’s own replaced hers, right in her own face as he gripped her thin shoulders tightly. His freckled face pushed right up to her nose, his eyes blown wide and afraid.

“I- I turned around. And she was gone!” He screamed at her, making her ears pop. She made no move to push him away. “I went to grab a drink! And she screamed! And I turned. And-“ He shut his eyes tightly, wrinkles forming across his face as he winced. “I saw this thing. It had her! It took her away! It had her by the neck!” Tommy screamed, his voice cracking, and Nancy felt her heard drop.

She didn’t feel the cold of the wood’s chill until she was deeply, deeply surrounded by the trees.

“Barb!” She screamed her best friend’s name, afraid of the monster that had taken her friend. “Barb! Come back!”

Her calls fell on deaf ears.

——

Eddie doesn’t sleep. He can’t. Not after what he saw last night…

That thing, that inhumane, disgustingly slimly, tall, /thing/. The way he groaned, the way its fingers stretched too far and ended at a knives tip. The shape of its face. Eddie hadn’t imagined it.

Had he?

Like, fuck, he had just wrapped his most recent D&D campaign with Gareth and the boys. It had been crazy. Most of them ended up with severed limbs, and Jeff had died in a ritual of sacrifice by an untouched colony. They had been playing it for a week before it ended, the day before Eddie was officially suspended for two weeks. Maybe the game was getting to him, and he was seeing shit like massive monsters with claws and pointed faces.

Maybe…

Maybe it was all in his head.

The front door handle creaked, the sound of keys clashing against the wood. Eddie looked up at the clock by his uncles slow-growing hat collection on the wall. Nine am.

God, Eddie hadn’t even slept yet.

As his Uncle Wayne stepped into the trailer, his boots heavy with each dirt ridden step across the carpet, Eddie sat up quickly from the sofa. He dropped the pillow he had been unknowingly gripping to his chest.

His Uncle Wayne coughed as he startled, taken aback by Eddie’s sudden appearance. “Damn, kid.” He croaked, his body haggard from working at the plant. “You scared the socks off me.” He shook his head fondly, as he passed Eddie to reach the fridge. He pulled out a beer as Eddie took a breath, and stepped a foot closer to his uncle.

“I saw a monster walking down the street after I locked up from work last night.”

His uncle stopped in his tracks, and as Eddie explained further with a rushed tone, Wayne dropped his can of beer onto the floor.

——

Martin Brenner listened. He listened intently, holding the printed evidence of Seven’s existence. It seemed Number Seven had not ran far.

“And you have the names of these children?” By a train track, a deserted place of the town his Number Seven had found refuge. Four children surrounded him, stood by bikes. Three boys, one girl.

“Mike Wheeler. Lucas Sinclair. Dustin Henderson, and Jane Hopper.”

Brenner’s heard snapped up at the little girls name. “Hopper?” He snapped, and his associate nodded.

He gripped the printed page tightly. “Find him.” He snapped, and was left alone.

He stared at the unsure, unaware Number Seven in the photo. He had always caused chaos, always found himself in situations bigger than he understood.

This time, with his escape, this situation was no different.

Hopper. That name rung a bell, and struck a cord.

——

It hit midnight, and Hopper was adamant on throwing the children out of the cabin. Steve was about to butt in and demand that Hopper take them home himself, it being unsafe for the children to bike home on their own. Jane had reassured him that Hopper would never put them in danger, and repeated that ‘friends don’t lie’. Steve trusted her, and thus trusted Hopper to keep them safe. He fretted as they drove away, Joyce taking half of the children herself as Hopper took the other.

Steve flapped his arms slightly as he watched them leave out of the window. Jane appeared beside him, and hovered her hand over his arm.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and Steve failed to respond. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the driveway, where the two cars had been parked moments prior. He could not take his eyes away, until they were back here. “They’ll be okay at home, Steve.”

Seven felt guilt and dread rise up to his chest.

He shook his head, wringing his hands as he whispered worriedly. “What if they aren’t?”

Jane’s eyes turned funny, like she was sad, but not for herself. She finally placed her hand against his arm. “They’ll be okay.” She repeated. All Seven could do, was shake his head.

What if he got those children killed? What if he caught them into a trap, set up by the bad men?

Seven held his breath stood at the window, staring at the drive until Hopper’s truck appeared once again.

——

Jonathan drove back to home with his camera held tightly between his fingers, sat on his lap with a heavy weight. Heavier than it should be.

What had he done. Why had he done it?

What had he seen…

He wouldn’t be able to confirm what he saw, until he managed to develop the photos. He could sneak to the darkroom at lunch, and develop the photos then. By the end of the school day, his pictures would be finished and he could confirm his suspicions.

God, he would have to print the others too.

He would destroy the rest. Rip them into a million pieces and burn the bits. He was a creep. Taking photos of his classmates at a party he wasn’t invited to. God, he was no better than his dad.

Pulling up to the house, he watched the lights only suddenly flick on from inside. His mom must have just gotten home, which… was alike her. He knew his mom was obsessed with Will being in the lights, and was convinced that she saw him in the walls. Could she be telling the truth?

Jonathan couldn’t humour her until he knew for /sure/. He needed to develop his photos, quickly. He needed to confirm that he had seen a disgusting monster in the woods, before he looked away to pick up his camera again, and the monster was gone, and Barb had screamed. He needed to be sure…

Entering the house, he found his mom nursing a cigarette at the table. She looked… afraid. Her knee was bouncing, her hair looked as if she had ran her hand through it continuously. Her eyes were ashen with dark circles.

“Mom?” He spoke quietly, seeming to breaking his mother out of a trance. She dropped her cigarette, and stood.

“Oh, Jonathan.” She rushed forwards, placing her arms around him. He placed his camera down gently on the side, and hugged his mom back, tightly.

“What- what is it? What’s happened?” Jonathan had the image of Will’s tiny body laid out in a coffin, his face pale and lifeless. He gripped his mom tighter. “Is it Will?”

“Yes!” She yelled, patting his back as he felt her face change against his chin. It felt like she was starting to smile. “Yes, honey. He found him! We know where Will is!”

Jonathan pulled away, stroking a hand over his camera fleetingly, just to check his evidence was there. That he hadn’t imagined everything from the night. That his mom saying that Will could be found, saved, was real.

“Who?” Jonathan’s face pulled in confusion. “Who can save him. Hopper?”

She shook her head, as she started to smile deeper. “Steve.” She gripped the front of Jonathan’s shirt with shaking, slim hands. She looked so tired, so frail. “He found him. He’s in another world. Steve- he- he’s from the lab, honey. Remember? He… somehow, he was able to connect to Will, with a blindfold and static and- Oh, Jonathan. We can find Will! In the upside-down!”

He glanced to his camera, and thought to the monster he thought he saw.

Could his mom be telling the truth?

Could he trust Steve, the random boy that his mom ran over with her car, who was from the lab and had ‘superpowers’?

He needed to get those photos developed.

——

She was high alert. She could not stop looking over her shoulder. The police had taken their statements last night. June was the one to call the cops, screaming and cursing down the phone receiver. God, was she lectured by her parents. Although they were sympathetic, offering Nancy the rest of the week off school. After trying to call who she was desperate to talk to, and receiving no answer, she decided to go into school so she had a chance to talk to him in person.

Nancy kept her head down in lesson, picturing the trees movement, hearing Barb’s scream over and over again. Listening to the silence of Barb’s missing presence throughout the day.

She found Jonathan Byers walking towards the darkroom at the back of the building. He let him enter, before charging through and slamming the door behind herself.

Jonathan gasped as he turned around, his eyes wide where he hunched over the paper submerged in the developing water. Nancy had been in the darkroom a few times, for her journaling mostly. Barb didn’t like the red light, said it freaked her out…

Right. Barb. That was what she was here for.

“Barb’s missing.” She cut to the chase, spitting it out like venom. Jonathan stayed staring at her, as Nancy descended down the steps. “She went missing last night at Tommy’s party. And I think what took her, took your little brother too.”

Jonathan’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. “You saw it too?” He spoke very quickly, his eyes not once leaving her face. She knew she looked a mess, and did not seem to care until Jonathan was looking at her.

She reached up and fiddled with her hair for a moment. “Yes.” She blinked, and Barb’s scream flooded her ears. Her hand snapped back down from her head. “It was a monster.” She spoke quietly, although there was determination in her tone.

“Yeah…” Jonathan whispered, and stammered as he finally broke out of his stare. He reached into the tray of water frantically, lifting the paper out of the tray and throwing the soggy, half developed image into the trash. Nancy watched with concern.

When she went to step closer, Jonathan’s hand shot up towards her. “No!” He yelled, beckoning her away with his outstretched hand. “Don’t look. Just… hold on.”

She watched his scramble around the darkroom, confused as to what he was doing. It seemed he was looking for a specific picture, and he tried developing two, which appeared to be the wrong photos he wanted, and both went into the trash still sopping wet.

“Jonathan, can I help?” She tried asking, tried stepping closer, but was once again pushed back a gentle step. It was more of a nudge, or a gentle tap, than a push.

“Please, just.” Even under the dark red-tinted light, Nancy could see the how flustered Jonathan’s face appeared. “Don’t look.”

Thankfully, the next picture he placed into the tray of water, was the correct one.

“Here!” He yelled, a stark contract to how he whispered before. Nancy was finally beckoned closer, and Nancy took space by his side as he used tongs to dip the paper until it was completely submerged by the liquid. They watched as the image slowly started to appear.

Nancy felt her breath catch in her chest.

An unclear image of Barb appeared. Her best friend sat on the edge of the pool, looking longingly to someone not captured by the camera. On the edge of the picture, appeared the claw of a large black monster reaching forwards. It took a moment for Nancy’s eyes to focus on the developed monsters face, pointed and snarling. The entire figure was black, and it nearly blended into the leaves and twigs surrounding the perspective of the camera. But Nancy knew, and so did Jonathan, that the figure on the left of the page was not just a trick of his lens.

Before them, developed photo evidence, of a monster.

Nancy opened her mouth to question how Jonathan took the photos. She did not remember seeing him at the party, and if she was being honest, if it was a shock for Nancy to be invited, there was no chance Jonathan would have been invited too. So had he-

“My mom ran over someone last week and he came from the lab and he had superpowers and somehow he contacted Will and said that a monster- this monster, took him.” Jonathan blurted.

Nancy stared.

“What?”

Chapter Text

Steve looked over the flashlight he fiddled between his hands. Sat under Jane’s duvet, propped up by their heads so they could see one another in the dark. Jane’s eyes searched frantically over each page of the manual for some sort of game, as Steve flicked the light on and off.

“Can you hold the light up, please?” She spoke distractedly, holding out her own light for Steve to take. Once both her hands were free, she gripped the hard-back book tightly with both hands. Steve tried to hold the light as still as he could, keeping it pointed to each page Jane flicked through. It seemed she had yet to find the correct page.

Peering over the books end, the words seemed to jumble and bounce around the page to Steve’s eyes. He winced, and gave up trying to read what Jane could. Words were tricky enough, let alone trying to read them upside down.

Instead, Steve turned to the lone walkie-talkie by his knee. Gently picking it up, and absently making sure the light he held did not move away from Jane’s page, he flicked with the dials with one hand. Static sounded on each flick, although all crackled in varying tones. He flicked between two absently.

“A-hah!” Jane announced suddenly. Steve turned towards her, and kept flicking the channels between one another. “I’ve found it! Look at this.” He placed the light across her face. “Ah- Steve, I can’t see.” She batted the light away, and took it out of his hands. She flipped the book around, and pointed at the monster pictured in the book.

Steve squinted at the image.

It was a green, animalistic looking monster. With wide black eyes, and sharp little teeth. The green thing, Steve tried reading the name beside the image but struggled with the word, had long antlers atop its head, sharp and pointed. It had a tail, and big pointy ears. Its legs were beck backwards at the knee, and its feet splayed like two claws at each end.

Steve shook his head.

Jane blinked. “Huh?”

“That’s wrong.” Steve shook his head, and tried to blink the memory away of the portal faced monster. “That’s not the monster.”

“But it’s the most fitting description!” Jane exclaimed, before groaning and pulling the book back to herself. “Hold on, I’ll try…”She groaned as she flicked through each page. “Maybe it’s better if you do it?” She held the book to Steve, and he brought his hands closer towards his chest.

He pointed to himself warily, and Jane nodded as she pushed the book a little closer. With gentle hands, Steve took the book and started from the first page.

The book was huge. With an array of different animals Steve hoped never to encounter. There was the green monster Jane had presented him, and another that looked akin to a large bear. There was a purple man was four tentacles across his face, with a hand clawed upwards and a long red cape. Steve skipped him with a shudder.

Finally he landed on a large furry animal with two heads, each with manes and large sharper teeth. On each arm, had two long tentacles reaching upwards, sharp at the end. Steve knew the monster looked nothing alike what was presented, but it was the most alike to the little figurine Mike had handed to him.

He reached into his pocket, and lifted the figure out and placed it against the image printed on the page. “That.” He presented his finding to Jane, whose face scrunched.

“That looks nothing like what you said.” She sighed, taking the figure and holding it delicately in the palm of her hand. Steve looked over the edge of the large book, and squinted his eyes. Next to the image presented on the left, was a long work in black and bold letters. Steve pointed to that, hoping it was the name.

“Demogorgon?” Jane offered, and Steve nodded. “Okay.” Jane nodded also. “We’ll call it the demogorgon.”

On queue, the door slammed open above the covers, and both of the occupants under the duvet startled. Jane pulled the blanket off of her head, yelling at Hopper as Hopper yelled back. Steve stayed under, staring at the word.

The monster had a name. Demogorgon. He wished he could read those stupid words, so he could learn more about that monster.

Instead, Hopper was lifting the blanket over Steve’s head and speaking. He didn’t quite catch what the man said, and lifted the light to shine in Hopper’s face.

The man groaned, and turned it off himself. “Let’s not shine that in my face, alright?” Hopper seemed tired, and Steve hoped he hadn’t upset the man. “Great. Okay, bed.” He ordered, and Steve slid the book under Jane’s pillow behind himself, and stepped out of the covers as he was guided towards Hopper’s room to sleep.

At the doorway, he watched Hopper say goodnight to Jane from her door, and when the man came towards Hopper, Steve spoke. “The demogorgon.”

“The what?” Hopper asked.

“That’s the monsters name.” He offered, and Hopper nodded slowly, as if he was processing the information.

“You just made this up, or it was what they told you in the lab?” Hopper asked, and Steve mined opening a large book.

“Made up. Jane’s book said.” He felt his face rise in embarrassment by his broken sentences. How come everyone knows how to speak perfectly, yet when Seven tried, he sounded stupid?

“Right. Get some rest, kid.” With that, Steve was sent to bed.

He stayed up thinking about the monsters he saw in that book, and hoped none of them ever came to life.

——

They skipped the rest of their classes, and Jonathan drove them to the cliff tops so they could talk.

Nancy couldn’t seem to wrap her head around it.

“So.” She repeated, for the third time since Jonathan had told her. “Last week, you and your mom ran over some guy whilst driving home. And he couldn’t talk properly, and had a really shaved head. And somehow, he’s staying with Chief Hopper, and he contacted Will through a radio, and he’s in a different dimension called ‘The Upside Down’.” She repeated, as Jonathan nodded throughout.

“And that the monster that took my brother, is probably the same one who took Barb that night at Tommy’s.” Jonathan added, and Nancy sat back in the passenger seat to think for a second.

The rustling leaves, her scream. She couldn’t close her eyes without the echo of Barb’s fear radiating through her bones.

“And you said this… Steve, guy, was from the lab?” Nancy asked, turning back to Jonathan beside her. He looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes were deep, and a frown persisted across his face. On the dashboard, lay the newly-developed evidence that neither of them were going crazy. That monsters were real, and it had taken her best friend, and Jonathan’s little brother.

“He called the people at the lab ‘bad men’.” Jonathan spoke with a haunted stillness. One of his fists was balled up in his lap, as he gripped the battered steering wheel with the other.

“They hurt him?” Nancy spoke quietly, the feeling of being watched suddenly hitting the back of her neck. She shuffled, and looked out the window on her side. There was nobody around, but themselves.

Jonathan nodded. “He didn’t say how. He said his dad- no, he called him Papa, he hurt him.” Jonathan’s hand against the wheel turned, and he looked out the window quickly. “We need to talk to him.” He started the car again, sense of urgency in his movements.

“At Hopper’s.” Nancy nodded, as Jonathan pulled away. They sped out of the clifftops, to the hidden little cabin on the outskirts of town.

——

Seven was aware he was asleep. Awake, but asleep. He found himself in the void, although the water below did not ripple with each step he took. He could feel his top lip already wet with his nose-bleed, and he sluggishly walked towards the blur before him.

He squinted as he got closer, and as the person became a girl with short curly hair, her cries reached Seven’s ears.

He stopped in his tracks, watching the water below her curled body turn red with blood. A lot of blood pooled around her, coming from her body. He stepped closer, and reached his hand out hesitantly.

Before he could touch her, the girl snapped her head around to Seven, her breath caught on a gasped sob. Her eyes passed through him, like she couldn’t quite see Seven before her.

He crouched down, and shuffled a little closer. Placing his hand gently on her arm, his mouth open to speak before he caught the large gash across her middle, the scratched on her arms that ripped her long sleeves apart. The bruises on her face.

She was pale, and afraid. Seven knew it was not long before she would be gone.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, and it seemed her eyes focused on his face as Seven felt a throbbing pressure against his temples. Had he become corporal to her?

He looked around frantically, and only saw the void. He had not appeared where this girl was, but he had become visible to her. Somehow…

“It’ll be okay.” He repeated Jane’s words from yesterday, and watched as the girl’s face relaxed slightly. The worry behind her eyes was prominent, although the anxious creases across her face smoothed out.

She lay herself down onto her side, her knees brought up to the gash across her middle, as she cushioned her head with her arm. Seven kept his hand placed gently on the girls arm as her breathing laboured, and there was a screech in the distance as the girl’s eyes dulled over.

Seven toppled onto his back, lying in the still water of the void as he cradled his aching head. Pressing his palms against his throbbing temples, the screeching got closer and closer to Seven and the dead girl nearby. He groaned, pulling at his ears at the thrill screech.

Then, the thing was stepping over him, reaching for the girl at her dead throat. Seven watched with tears streaming down his aching face, as the monster. The demogorgan. Grabbed at the girls throat and lifted her up into the air. He screeched in her dead face, and threw her across the void. Seven watched with dizzy eyes, as her body turned to smoke mid-air. The thing ran after her, ignoring Seven’s nauseous body laid in the water, and turned to smoke in the void too.

He woke up with a startle, his head still throbbing. He felt a rising sensation up his throat, and doubled over the side of Hopper’s bed to throw up onto the floor.

——

That morning, Wayne had waited for two hours with Eddie by his side for Chief Jim Hopper to drag his ass out of bed and clock in for the day. Flo had said he would get there at nine, or at least that was the time he was ‘supposed to arrive, but don’t count on it!’

His nephew was a nervous wreck, Wayne could tell. His knee bounced, as he bit at the skin surrounding his nail. He stared at the water cooler without blinking, eyes wide and reliving what he had seen.

Wayne had believed him, of course, about whatever damn monster Eddie had seen. Him and his brother, Eddie’s Pa, had always believed there was something cursed about Hawkins. And what with Barb’s disappearance, and little Will vanishing into thin air, Wayne knew deep in his bones that something terrible was happening in Hawkins.

It was half eleven by the time Hopper came strolling in, heavy boots slamming against the ground as the man groaned with each step. Both Eddie and Wayne shot up to follow the man, Eddie staying uncharacteristically silent as Wayne did the talking.

“Jim,” Wayne started, as they followed Jim behind Flo’s desk. The man watched the chief grab a donut, then a second, as he strolled around the desks. “We’ve been waiting nearly three hours for you.”

“Mhmm.” The man grumbled, seemingly distracted as he scoffed his face with one of the donuts he snatched. As he rounded back towards the door, Eddie stood firmly in front of the much taller, much heavier, chief of police, with a matching scowl to his uncle’s.

“We need to talk to you.” Eddie spoke without the normal excitement behind his tone, seeming more lethargic than Wayne knew him to be. As Jim took another messy bite of the donut, Wayne felt rage build in his chest.

“Alright, let’s talk.” He grumbled, pushing past Eddie with a nudge to the teenagers shoulder. As he passed Flo, she handed him a mug of coffee wordlessly. Wayne and Eddie followed Jim by the neck of his teeth, towards the man’s office.

The chief groaned deeply as he sat down, placing his last donut on the desk and taking a long sip of the steaming coffee in his mug. Wayne guided Eddie by his shoulders to sit in the chair in front of the chiefs desk.

“Well?” Hopper grumbled, placing his mug down roughly as he wiped over his face with a large hand.

“You don’t look so good.” Eddie mumbled, and Hopper almost seemed to roll his eyes.

“Tough night.” He offered wordlessly, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Eddie saw a monster downtown last night.” Wayne cut to the chase, and Hopper spluttered his coffee up himself, coating his moustache and nose.

He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve as he slammed the mug down onto the desk.

“What?!” He barked, eyes trained on Eddie intently.

The teenager nodded. “I- I was locking up the shop last night after my shift…”

——

Jane stroked over Steve’s back gently, where the teenager held a tissue to his nose. The TV was turned onto mute to soothe Steve’s aching head, but the bright lights did nothing for his throbbing temples.

“I’m sorry.” Steve repeated for the fifth time that morning, looking over to the broken window now boarded up with wood. Both he and Jane stayed under blankets against the draft the broken glass let out, and kept slippers on as to not accidentally step in any shards of the broken plates Steve had destroyed in his sleep.

“Don’t apologise.” Jane smiled gently, turning to the broken window also. “Hopper can fix it easily.”

“He was late.” Steve spoke mournfully, hoping Hopper would not get into any trouble for fixing his mistakes. “My fault.” He placed a cold hand against his chest, taking the tissue away from his nose for a moment, and looking down at the blood that soaked it.

“Nah, I don’t think Hopper had been early to work, or even on time, ever.” Jane tried laughing, nudging Steve’s side to coax a laugh out of him also. The guilt residing across Steve’s face seemed too hard to crack through.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. It wasn’t-“ Jane was interrupted by a knock at the door. Not the One, Three, Two knock, an urgent, angry knock.

Steve felt his breath get caught in his chest. Hopper had never not used the secret knock. It was the bad men. They had found him, and they were going to take him away and hurt Jane and the other children. And Joyce, and Hopper. And it was all his fault.

Pushing the blankets off of his lap, he grabbed at Jane’s wrist and pulled her to stand behind him, he felt his pulse quicken, as he held out his hand in front of himself.

Jane gripped his wrist, calling his name. Steve ignored her, in favour of gripping the outside door handle tightly. Someone tried to jostle it, and Steve felt the hold the hand on the handle tighten. They weren’t getting in. Steve wouldn’t allow Jane to be hurt.

“Hopper! It’s me and Jonathan!” A girls voice called, and Steve faltered. The women’s voice was unfamiliar, but Steve knew Jonathan. Will’s brother, Joyce’s older son. He had lent him clothes, and a bed on his first night outside of the lab. Jonathan.

Steve let go of the handle, and wiped at his nose as he let go on Jane. The girl watched him warily as she reached the door, unlocking the multiple locks with clicks and clacks. She opened the door only to reveal her face, and Steve watched her body sag at the sight of the two teenagers.

“Thank god, it’s just you.” Jane opened the door further, and beckoned them in quickly. “Come on, hurry.” Both entered, and both stared at Steve as Jane slammed the door shut, and replaced the locks.

“Steve.” Jonathan said with a smile, coming closer to the boy with the nosebleed and taking him into his arms tightly.

Steve stayed very still, wiping at his nose less it drop onto Jonathan’s shirt, as he stared at the girl staring back at him.

Jonathan pulled away, and held Steve by his arms with a smile that matched his mother’s. “How have you been? Mom said what you did. You contacted Will? God, man. I can’t believe it.” He laughed without humour, and knelt down and revealed a fresh tissue for Steve to take.

He did with gentle hands, wiping at the blood already on his thumb. “Thanks.” He smiled truthfully up to Jonathan, who nodded. As Steve caught his eyes on the girl again, Jonathan followed his gaze.

“Oh, this is Nancy.” He gestured towards her. “Her friend Barb went missing too last night. We think… that it has something to do with the same thing that took Will.”

“The Demogorgon.” Jane piped, stepping closer to the teenagers. Nancy still had not said a word. “That’s what it’s called.”

“How do you know that?” Jonathan asked the little girl.

She gestured towards the D&D manual laid on the coffee table beside the tissue box. “We named it last night.”

“Right.” Jonathan nodded, turning back to Steve.

“Another missing?” Steve whispered, and Jonathan nodded.

“Barb’s friend. We were thinking that maybe you could find her? Like you did with Will. With the static, and blindfold?” Jonathan offered, and Steve felt himself wince.

“No.” He shook his head. He opened his mouth to answer, but was dutifully interrupted.

“Why not?” Nancy finally spoke, and Steve looked up at her through his eyelashes.

“Tired.” Steve offered, unsure how else to describe what he had done last night. It wasn’t not a lie, he was really, really tired now.

“Really?” Nancy seemed to snap, and Steve nodded dully. “You can’t just try?”

“He’s sick.” Jane interrupted, glaring at Nancy. “He was sick last night, something happened. He can’t just keep finding people over, and over. It’s tiring him out!” Jane fought for Steve, standing by his side.

“But we came here so we could find her. The longer she’s out in the upside down, the longer that monster has her!” Nancy argued, and Steve’s brow furrowed.

“The picture?” He asked, reaching his hand to Nancy. “See it?” He tried finishing, and Nancy stared at him for a moment. “See the picture.” He repeated, worry his sentences weren’t making any sense.

Finally, after a beat, Nancy held out the picture from her bag, and Steve took it delicately.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but it seemed there was a girl with curly hair sat on the side of clear water in the ground, and on the left edge of the picture, looked the Demogorgon reaching for her.

“I know her.” Steve started, and Nancy exclaimed. “I saw her. Last night.” He nodded, presenting the picture to Nancy and pointing at the girl. “I saw her.” He repeated almost excitedly, and Nancy stepped closer.

She grabbed at his hands that held the picture, and they stood close. “How do you know her?” Jonathan asked from his side. “Where did you see her?”

“In your nightmare?” Jane asked, and Steve nodded. “Oh my god.” The little girl mumbled.

“How? Where is she? Was she safe?” Nancy rushed, gripping Steve’s hands tighter.

He caught her gaze, and their eyes matched. “Hurt. Sleeping and not breathing.” Steve knew the word, but he did not want to say it. He did not want to hurt Nancy by telling her the truth.

But something in her eyes screamed that she needed to be told, that she deserved to know what happened to her friend.

“Dead?” Nancy whispered the word Steve avoided, and their tears matched as Steve nodded.

“Dead.” He repeated, barely whispering the word.

Suddenly, Nancy was in his arms, and although he had just met the girl, Steve wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, tears dripping into her hair as hers pooled his borrowed t-shirt.

Jonathan joined them, wrapping his arms around the two of them tightly. Steve could feel the teenagers tears also on his shoulder.

The picture was taken from between his fingers, and Steve watched over the hugging pile as Jane looked over the picture. “That was what took Will?” She asked with a shallow tone, and did not need to nod for Jane to join their tearful pile.

They stayed sureounded by one another for a moment, and although Steve had been afraid of touch his entire life, he felt a comfort reside in his chest at being held so tight by these people. At the lab, touch meant pain. It meant electricity and fire and bruises. It meant being hit over the head, it meant screaming at your captures and trying your hardest to escape mean hands. But this, this felt right. This felt safe.

As they broke away, and used an entire tissue box to wipe away their tears, they started to devised a plan.

They needed to find a way to get into the upside down. They needed a gate. So that they could go through, and find Will and Barb’s body. They needed to bring them both home.

Chapter Text

Hopper groaned as he pulled up to the cabins driveway. His usual parking spot was taking by a familiar, busted Ford that struck a nostalgic sense through Hopper’s chest. Joyce’s old car, now gifted to Jonathan, parked outside his home, and in the dark Hopper could see the lights turned on inside through the pulled-closed blinds.

He made his way up the decking, thinking of everything that transpired that day. Barb was missing, and Wayne’s nephew had seeming seen that demo-whatever the kids had decided to call it.

As Hopper knocked - One, Three, Two - he debated asking Steve if he could find Barb also. he did not want the kid to think they were no better than those ‘bad men’ at the lab, and were using him for his abilities. But, it would make things a lot easier if Steve was willing to help. Especially if the girls disappearance had anything to do with Will’s. Maybe, the monster was the same that took Will. Eddie had seen it walking in a direction that led straight towards Loch Nora, where Tommy had hosted the party at his house. It was likely that the mobster Eddie saw, was the same that took Will.

Jane opened the door, and Hopper hugged her tightly before the sound of three whispering teenagers sat on the sofa reached his ears. Hopper placed his coat on its peg by the door, and turned to the teens.

“Hey.” Hopper spoke loud enough to cut through their seemingly intense conversation. The three snapped their heads around to him, looking shocked to see Hopper in his own home.

Before him, sat Jonathan, Steve, and Nancy atop the couch. They were hunched over a thick hardback book in Jonathan’s lap, and a blue glittery notepad and matching pen in Nancy’s hands. Neither of the three spoke for a moment.

“What are you two doing here?” Hopper asked, as he rounded the sofa and stood in front of the three.

“Planning.” Steve spoke first, and Hopper felt his face soften. The quiet teen gently took the book, and presented the page they had been taking notes on, towards Hopper. He took it with a squint, a large image of some brown furry monster pictured on the left, and many paragraphs explaining the things attributes beside it. In big bold letters, read Demoogorgon. Ah, that was what it was called. “That’s the monster.” Steve continued with a nod.

“We’ve been making notes, anything that seems familiar to what Steve already knows about the monster,” Nancy stood and held the paper towards Hopper. He took it with a swap of the large book, which Nancy offered back to Jonathan. Taking her seat, Jane sat close to Steve’s side. “And also any theories we might have.”

“Theories?” Hopper asked as his eyes glanced over the notes.

“We think it might be able to smell blood. Kind of like a shark.” Jonathan explained. “I think I saw Barb bleeding before…”

Hopper handed the notepad back to Nancy with a furrowed brow. “You were there when Barb disappeared?”

Jonathan’s face seemed to blush bright red, and his hands gripped the open book as he stammered. “Uh, I, uh, yeah. I wasn’t invited. But I- was… there.” He explained cryptically, but Hopper did not have the time to delve deeper into that mess.

He took a breath. “About the monster.” Hopper started, and their young eyes were all trained on him once again. Nancy sat back onto the arm of the sofa. Hopper cleared his throat, and pottered about for a second before sitting in the only free armchair. He pulled it closer, as the four watched intently. “A kid came into my office today, with his uncle. Said he was convinced he saw a tall, black, figure with claws making its way towards Loch Nora last night.”

Hopper watched Steve’s eyes turn wide, as Nancy shuffled to lean in closer. Jonathan glanced between the two teenagers, as Jane stared at a picture she had picked up from the coffee table.

“What did he say it looked like?” Nancy asked.

“Who was it?” Jonathan also piped. Steve stayed characteristically silent as he listened.

“Eddie Munson, and his uncle Wayne. He said it was a ‘dark figure with sharp fingers. And a pointed mouth.‘“ Hopper repeated what Eddie had told him, thinking back to the image in the book. “Which sounds nothing like that thing.” He gestured towards the thing in Jonathan’s lap, and caught the way Nancy and Jonathan seemed to stare at each other, as Jane’s eyes bulged out of her head as she stared holes through the paper in her fingers.

Nancy snatched it from the little girl, and presenting it to Hopper. She stood before him, pointing to the left side of the image.

“Like that?” Hopper took the picture, and let his eyes try and focus on what was being presented to him.

“I don’t…” Then, like a bullet shooting through him, Hopper suddenly felt very cold as his eyes adjusted to picture the looming, clawed figure on the edge of the page. “Oh, god.” He mumbled, as the picture was snatched from his fingers.

“See?” She spoke adamantly, as Steve took the picture from her fingers gently.

“That’s the monster.” Steve nodded. “The monster I saw. It took Will, and made Barb sleep.” He spoke the last of his sentence quietly, and Hopper shot upright.

“What?” He yelled, and Steve winced. Jane placed her hand across his knee, and glared at Hopper across the room. “Barb’s dead?” He spoke with a lowered volume, and it was Nancy’s turn to look away. Over the back of the couch, Jonathan lifted his arm and patted at her shoulder awkwardly.

“I saw her. Nightmare.” He looked to Jane, as if asking for reassurance. Hopper was proud as his girl took Steve’s hand and held it tight between her own. “She saw me. I held her arm. She fell asleep.” He shuddered, and Hopper thought there was more to the story that Steve was not explaining. Whether it was a case of him being unable to, with his limited vocabulary, or he just did not want to explain the rest. Hopper did not pry him for answers.

God, he should teach the kid how to speak, at least. After everything he had done for them already…

“Okay. So, we just need to find Will.” Hopper spoke aloud, and both Nancy and Steve shook their heads.

“Her body.” Steve spoke as Nancy yelled, “We need to bring her home!”

“Right…” Hopper nodded, thinking over the limited information they had. God, this was so annoyingly tedious. “We need a gate.” Hopper concluded, and Jane rolled her eyes.

“We’ve already said that. We’re trying to figure out how to get to one. Or how to make one.” She shrugged. It hit Hopper then that two weeks ago, he did not know anything alike this kind of stuff. He did not believe in monsters, and there had not been a big of a case since someone had graffitied the back of Benny’s diner, years ago. Goddamnit. Damn it all to hell.

“Right.” Hopper spoke, his brain trying to figure out some semblance of a plan. “We need to tell Joyce.”

“And the party!” Jane offered, but received a glare from Hopper. “What? Friends don’t lie. We can’t just exclude them from this! They deserve to help find Will. They’re his best friends!” Jane argued, and Steve nodded as he seemed to squeeze the girls hand.

Oh, damnit. “Damn it all to hell.” Hopper mumbled under his breath, and Jane grinned in victory. He’d have Jane call the kids over tomorrow, and then they could properly start forming a plan together. As a group. Or, as the kids called themselves, as a party.

——

Dustin biked past a white van down the street to the cabin, and once he arrived he noticed he was the last to get there. She cursed under his breath, and practically threw his bike to the ground as he knocked. What was it again… One, two three? No, it was a different order. One, three, two. He tried, and the door was opened. Nancy looked annoyed as she beckoned him inside, near pulling him in by the strap of his backpack.

“You’re late.” She grumbled, speaking quickly as she peered one last time out the door, and slammed it shut.

Jane barrelled over to hug him, and Dustin hugged her back. “Sorry, mom made me feel the cat before I left.” He complained, and Jane smiled. She pulled away to lock the door, calling over her shoulder that his absence was excused.

Dustin looked over the packed cabin’s living room. He hadn’t been here for a while; the party preferred Mike’s massive basement for D&D campaigning, although Dustin had been at the cabin a few times for dinner, invited over by Jane during school. His home wasn’t very large, but the cabin was quite tiny. So, seeing it this packed, as the kids sat on the floor and the three teenagers squished onto the couch, with Joyce taking space in the armchair Hopper sat on the arm of, it felt homely, which was almost funny regarding the circumstances.

“We’re all here now!” Jane announced, crouching by the coffee table and taking space by Mike’s side. Dustin stood standing, although he inched closer towards Steve sat on the coach. The teenager peered up at him, and smiled. Dustin returned the smile with more confidence.

“You said there was more information regarding Will?” Lucas asked Jane, who nodded towards where Nancy and Jonathan sat beside each other on the coach. All eyes turned to them.

“Right… well.” Nancy shuffled under their scrutiny, glancing to Jonathan and back to the group. “My friend Barb went missing, and we have photo evidence that it was the monster Steve described.” She turned to the mentioned teen. Dustin watched him shrink into himself a little, as everyone else looked to him also. “We think it’s the same monster that took Will.”

Jonathan reached forwards, and placed the picture onto the coffee table. Everyone crowded around it, speaking about it intently.

“I don’t see it…” Dustin squinted, trying to blur his eyes to try and find the monster the his friends were gasping about. “I can’t see anything.” Just Barb sat there, on the edge of the pool. It seemed her hand was cradled in the other, maybe she hurt it? She looked off to the side with a smile, like she was trying to impress someone and hide her injured hand from them.

“It’s on the left.” Steve spoke quietly, so quiet that the others couldn’t hear him. He lifted the picture and held it to Dustin’s eyes, pointing to the left of the image.

All he saw were shadows.

Until…

“Holy shit.”

——

Hopper explained next, how a kid named Eddie Munson and his uncle came to him yesterday morning with a reported monster sighting. That night, Steve had had a nightmare about a girl who was in pain, and she had somehow been able to see him. Steve piped up, declaring “I don’t know how.” As he absently wiped away his clear nose.

Dustin couldn’t help but feel for the guy. So much had changed in their lives in the previous week, but Dustin hadn’t stopped to think of how Steve must be feeling. He escaped the lab, which was filled with the bad men, and now was wrangled into the mess of train to find Will and Barb’s body.

Hopper explained for Steve that the teenager had been there, in his mind, whilst Barb ‘fell asleep’. Dustin wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that meant. When the room went quiet, he knew everyone else came to realise what those words truly meant also.

“So.” Jane picked up, picking up the notepad and open D&D manual from the coffee table and passing it to Mike and Lucas first as she explained. “Me and Steve gave the monster a name. The Demogorgon. It’s from D&D.” She ignored Hopper’s groan. “They don’t look alike, but they have similar attributes. Steve, Nancy and Jonathan wrote down everything Steve knew that was similar to the monster that took Will, and the one in the book. The similarities are endless!” She exclaimed, as Lucas handed the information to Dustin.

He tuned everyone out as he read the notes.

‘Master of Spiralling Depths.’ The first note scratched onto the page read, and beside that there was an arrow pointing to the words ‘The upside down’ and a circled question mark beside it.

‘Drag down into the depth of abyss.’ The notes followed. Dustin wondered if the abyss the manual spoke about, was akin to the upside down world Steve had mentioned.

‘18 ft.” The notes continued, and Dustin winced.

‘Deter magic ability.’ Although Dustin was a fanatic for the game, two weeks ago he would not have believed anyone had real-life magic. But, upon meeting Steve, he had been corrected.

The list continued, and with each matched description to the monster Steve had described, and Jonathan had captured with his camera, Dustin wanted to meet the monster less and less.

He passed the notes finally to Joyce, who asked questions about the book, about some of the terminology. Dustin was shocked Jonathan or Nancy could decipher the thing at all, if he was honest.

“Maybe we should look at it.” Lucas offered, gesturing towards the four youngest. “We can explain the words to Steve, because I’m sure you don’t know what…” He looked to the page. “Feeblemind, or major image is.”

Jonathan and Nancy stared for a moment. “No.” They said in unison, with a matching dull tone.

“Great.” Lucas stood with the book in his hands. “Steve can come with us, and we can make more notes on what this demogorgon is like. Then, we can figure out how to defeat it.”

The other children stood, nodding and asking for more pens. Jane rushed into her room to grab some, and Mike followed. Lucas came to Dustin’s side, and the two turned to Steve, who sat warily on the couch.

“C’mon.” Dustin beckoned him to stand. “We can explain everything. You’ll learn more from us than those two.” He grinned at Nancy’s stare, and Steve followed hesitantly as they filtered into Jane’s room to continue their search.

Steve looked over his shoulder at Hopper, awaiting permission to follow the children’s plan. The older man nodded, and Steve happily sat on Jane’s bed once again, to learn from the children.

——

It did not take long for something to feel amiss. Steve felt the hairs on the nape of his neck, as Dustin and Lucas argued about the importance of the origin of a specific monster. Mike had the notepad, and Jane groaned beside him at the others incessant yelling.

Steve turned still, staring at the door pulled at least two inches open. He could hear the quiet murmurs of the adults, and the two other teenagers from the living room. There was no sense of alarm in their tone, they obviously had not noticed that they were under attack.

“No!” Steve yelled as he slammed the door open, standing too quick and making his head turn dizzy, as the front door burst open simultaneously. There was no special knock.

Instead, armed men held guns pointed to their faces, as Hopper yelled and seemed to grab his own gun, pointing it at the many men infiltrating the already-packed home.

“Where is he?” Someone yelled from the pack of armed forces. Steve gasped, as the children seemed to scream and yell. He slammed the door shut with his hand outstretched, and hoped Hopper could get the others away.

For now, Steve has to focus on the children’s safety.

He turned to their scared little faces, their eyes wide and looking up to him expectantly.

“Are those the bad men?” Jane spoke louder than could be safe, as Mike beside her gripped her hand tightly.

“Yes. We need to run!” Steve rushed towards the window, pushing away the curtains and lifting his hand up to the glass. “Stand back.” He warned, before the glass shattered around them, and Steve was beckoning Dustin over to climb through the hole in the wall. “We have to go.” He encouraged, grabbing Dustin’s hand and helping him through. Beside him, flew past Lucas, who helped Dustin through the other side.

Mike and Jane followed, and the door busted open as Mike’s foot exited the cabin.

“Put your hands up!” The armoured man yelled, and Steve gripped onto his lungs and blew them apart from the inside. He near jumped through the window, and grabbed as many of the children as he could, and pulled them in-front of him to run.

The children screamed as gunshots flew past, Jane covering her ears as she started to lag behind. Steve grabbed at her arm, and pulled her along. “Keep going!” He screamed at her, as the two both turned around to watch the three men chasing after them.

Steve distantly heard Nancy tell Jonathan’s name, and Steve pushed Jane to keep running as he stopped to turn around and face the men pointing guns at him.

Lifting both of his arms, his fingers splayed and his nose already dribbling blood down his face, he stopped the men in their tracks, stilling them mid step. Only their eyeballs fluttered around, as their chests choked on frozen breathing.

“Go!” He yelled again over his shoulder, unable to follow the children further into the woods for safety. He could hold the bad men off, long enough for the children to reach a safe place. He just had to… concentrate.

“Steve!” Dustin screamed, his voice shrill as footsteps neared from behind him. “We can’t go without you, man!” The boy lunged into his side, taking the breath out of Steve’s chest, luckily his concentration was not faltered.

“You go.” He strained, watching the lips of his captures turn blue. Something inside his chest swelled with sadistic pride.

“We can’t, we’ll die without you!” The thought of it struck Steve’s chest, and he let go of the three armoured men once he saw their red faces turn desperate for air on the brink of suffocation.

Their bodies dropped with loud thuds, and Steve wiped his nose before grabbing at Dustin’s sweaty hand.

“C’mon!” The boy dragged him by the arm, Steve breathing heavily as they ran. The other children had stopped just a feet away, and started to run in the same direction once Steve had joined them again.

“Keep… keep going!” Steve yelled breathlessly, matching Dustin’s own pants as the two lagged behind the terrified group. Steve gripped Dustin’s hand tighter, and watched as night began to fall in the distance.

The sun lowered itself to sleep, and Steve felt a new rise of panic surge up his throat. No, no no, they could not be in the dark woods alone. Steve did not know if he could protect the children in the nighttime.

“Hey!” Lucas yelled from up ahead. Steve had to squint to see him. “I found something!” He waved, before ducking off to the side of a tree.

Looking back behind himself, Steve found they were much further from the cabin than he had thought. He could barely see the little house in the distance. But they had to keep moving. They could not be caught by the bad men.

“What is it?” Dustin heaved as he and Steve came to a halt, they broke their hands away from each others to pant. Dustin placed his hands on his knees to bend over and breathe, whilst Steve wiped the sweat that lingered from Dustin’s hold.

“Is this a gate?” Mike asked, and it took Steve a second before his eyes finally landed on the broken bottom of the tree. He crouched closer, shuffling towards the molten bottom of the bark.

Between slime strings attached to each side of the missing bark, red and blue light shined from deep inside the bark. It seemed the hole at the ground seemed to go further than the tree itself.

Inside, lay the upside down.

He nodded, hesitantly. “A gate.” He concluded, and stuck his hand tentatively through the strings of web and goo. It broke away with a pop, and the children groaned at the wet sound. Breaking away the rest of the ropes of slime, with Jane gagging behind him at the wet residue left across his hand, the sound of crunching leaves sounded to their side.

Everyone snapped their heads up in unison, facing the way they had come. The bad men.

“Go through.” Steve urged, standing and pushing at Mike’s shoulder, who stood the closest.

“What?! I’m not-“ Gunefire rained, and the children screamed as Steve gasped. He grabbed at Mike’s sleeve, and pushed him towards the gate.

“Go!” He ordered, stepping out to the men with his arm outstretched again. He angled himself so he could watch the children go inside, but also keep the men at bay before they were all through the portal.

“Don’t move!” A man with his gun yelled, as Steve beckoned the children through the portal. Mike seemed to be through, as his hand outstretched through the hole and called Jane’s name.

The girl army crawled through the gap as she was dragged inside, as Steve snapped his head to the left and the man’s left leg snapped in two. He screamed in agony, falling to the ground with a thud. Dustin praised him with a cheer, and Steve turned to push him towards the portal.

Lucas was half way through, and the curly haired boy pushed him inside deeper by the legs. “Steve, c’mon!” Dustin called as he crouched by the portal Lucas’ shoe disappeared into.

Steve held his breath, listening intently for more sounds of people running after them. There was silence, and then there was gunfire.

And Steve acted on impulse. He grabbed the nearest, heaviest object he could, and watched as a very tall tree came down and squashed four men chasing after them.

“Holy shit!” Dustin laughed in mania, and Steve wiped his nose before grabbing at Dustin’s shoulders.

“Inside. Now!” He screamed near inches from Dustin’s face, and practically pushed the child through the gap in the bark. Steve lifted his head as the child was pulled through quickly by his friends inside, and caught the familiar glimpse of white hair under the fallen tree.

“Papa.” He whispered in fear.

“Steve!” A chorus of children’s voices beckoned his name, called to him in fear and need of guidance.

They would die without him in the upside down. But Number Seven was not going to let that happen.

Wordlessly, he jumped through the portal, and smaller hands grabbed at each arm and yanked him through, into the dark and cold abyss.

Chapter Text

It was cold, and in the horizon the sky flashed red and blue. Steve could see his breath puff out past the floating spores that surrounded the upside down, and the distant cough of one of the children snapped him back into his body.

They were all in the upside down.

Steve searched frantically, the sky changing with each clash of thunder. A keen sense of familiarity flushed through him. Although he had not been here before, he had seen Barb die in this world. Haunted by the monsters that lurked this dimension, Steve was troubled by the surroundings.

And now, the children were here too. He caught the tight grip held between Mike and Jane’s hands, as he flipped his head towards Lucas, who coughed deeply into his inner elbow.

Reaching towards Lucas as the boy whacked at his own chest, Steve gripped his shoulders tightly. Lucas’ hand reached out to grip Steve’s own, and he patted the slim boys back gently. Looking up to their surroundings, Steve registered how the dark woods mirrored their own. Each tree, although their trunks were bare of leaves with lingering twigs pointing sharply, were identical to the real world.

As Lucas’ coughs softened, becoming less frequent in his coughing fit, Steve turned to the other children. They looked around wildly at their terrifying surroundings. Steve noticed a scrape on Jane’s arm, and a matching couple on Mike’s knees. His jeans were ripped from the blood spackled graze, and Dustin seemed to breathe deeply as he held his side, crouched over himself with his hands placed on his knees.

As the sky flashed, the dark world before them seemed to distort with their fear. Steve swore he could see a figure approaching in the distance.

“Steve?” Jane called out to him gently, her fear thick in her tone. Steve turned to her, not letting go of Lucas as he rode out the last of his coughing. The girl came closer, and gripped his equally cold hand.

“Is this the upside down?” She asked in a hushed whisper, her breathing appearing in puffs of air between her lips, also. Steve took a breath, and felt the twang of inhaled spores against his tongue. He nodded with a wince. No wonder Lucas was coughing…

“We should go back through-“ Dustin tried, breaking the two apart and dashing for the portal at the bark of the tree. Wordlessly, Steve reached for him on instinct, and dragged him backwards from the gate.

“C’mon man, we’ll die out here!” Dustin protested, pushing at Steve’s restricting arms placed tightly around his middle.

Steve’s grip faltered as exhaustion hit him like a bag of bricks. As his nosebleed reached his lips, Steve licked it away. “We need to-“

“Will!” Mike suddenly called, his hands cupped around his lips as he screamed, hopefully reaching the missing boys ears.

Yes. Right. This was the plan all along. Find a gate, and find Will.

They /had/ found a gate…

Dustin stopped his struggle, and it seemed the correlation hit his head also. He pushed out of Steve’s aching arms, and stood beside Mike to copy his yelling.

“Will, it’s us!” He screeched, as Lucas joined with a hoarse throat. Steve’s brow furrowed at the boys laboured breath, and watched as he did not let the spores affect him finding his friend.

Jane reached him again, holding his arm with her smaller body. She pressed herself against him, and Steve hugged her tight.

“We can look for Will.” She spoke excitedly, and felt Steve’s knees buckle underneath his tired weight. “Steve?” Jane called his name worriedly, helping him into the ground as safe as she could. He landed with a thud, and groaned as he pressed his palms to his temples.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas appeared, as the two other boys kept screaming Will’s name, looking over their shoulder in concern.

“Tired…” Steve whispered, and wiped at his nose. He looked to the blood coating his hand, covered in dirt from climbing through the gate. Which…

Steve looked back to the strings of slime barricading the portal between two worlds. In their pauses to call Will’s name, Steve distantly heard the rattle of guns from outside the gate. Steve gasped, as footsteps neared the passageway.

They would get through. The bad men would pass through the gap in the tree, and their escape would become futile. Steve would not let anything bad happen to these children.

“No.” he groaned as he stood, Jane calling his name worriedly. The image of the children being pulled back through the gate, to be taken by the lab… “No.” He repeated, standing before the portal with his arm outstretched towards it.

“What are you doing?” Jane asked in worry, watching Steve’s fingers splay out and concentration filter across his face. He felt his temples throb in exhaustion.

“Closing the gate.” Steve groaned with a huff, pushing the little strength he had into sewing the portal back together. It rippled up from the bottom, connecting each side like a zip. His ears started to bleed as he reached the tip of the closing gate, and the sound of footsteps was gone.

Steve fell to his knees again.

——

Steve breathed heavy. Jane gripped his hand where he lay prone on the damp dirt of the upside down. Steve watched as vines rippled upwards a nearby tree, alive and feasting on the dying bark. He groaned, as Dustin’s screeching reached his ears.

“Will! Will, it’s us!” He screamed, and Jane snapped her head up towards him.

“Will you both shut up for a second? He isn’t here.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ll need to search for him. Out there…” She looked to the distance, and Steve’s throbbing head prohibited him from turning to see what she squinted at. She turned back towards him on the ground. “Can you sit up?” She asked gently, and Steve nodded with a wince.

Slowly, he sat up with Jane’s help. He felt her wipe at the side of his head with her sleeve, where the blood dripped from his ears. He wiped at his nose, and found the blood dried at his top lip.

“Does it hurt?” She whispered, and Steve nodded with aching fists that laid in his lap.

“Tired.” He repeated, and Jane sighed.

“I know. We need to find Will. And a way out.” She looked over her shoulder at the dying wood, where the portal had been. There was no a dent or stretch signifying they had come through that way.

“I think-“ Steve tried, before a terrifying screech screamed from inside the woods, although it did not sound far.

Dustin stumbled back at the sound as Mike gasped. Steve squinted fuzzy eyes, and tried to locate the source in the dark woods.

He knew that sound…

“Look!” Lucas yelled, pointing wildly to the black figure approaching. It ran on all fours, its petal mouth splayed open as its large claws gave it purchase across the ground.

Steve watched it come closer, and felt his blood rush to his ears. He shot his feet underneath himself, and grabbed at the children’s arms, pushing them deeper into the woods with his own scream. “Go!”

They all seemed to cry, their chests already panting before they picked up speed to escape. Steve pushed from behind, their feet stomping across the ground as they ran from the Demogorgon chasing them.

It screeched again, loud and long, and Steve looked over his shoulder as the thing jumped from the trees and leapt towards them with a long, outstretched arm. It almost clipped Steve on the back, but the experiment ducked and stumbled away.

“Keep going! Don’t look back!” Steve yelled, listening to the children’s breathless sobbing. As Dustin started to lag, Steve pushed him hard in between his shoulder blades, and continued to push him as the child called out that he had a cramp in his side.

They could not run forever. Soon enough, the creature would reach them. Dustin was already in pain, and Steve was starting to feel the sprinting burn in his legs. If he was in pain, then the children…

He would have to risk it. He would pass out again, but if the monster was held off, maybe the children could find Will without Steve. But he had not told them about his theorised way out of the upside down…

It was a risk he had to take.

“Keep running! Don’t look back, go!” Steve watched as they neared a familiar road, and Mike reached the pavement first, Jane and Lucas close behind. He and Dustin had miles to run before they reached them, and the three children waited with beckoning arms.

“Come on!” They yelled, “Dustin, Steve! Come on!” Mike waved them over, as Lucas encouraged them with screams. “You can do it! Come on!”

Dustin seemed to pick up speed, and Steve knew this was his chance. With one last push to the boys shoulders, that near sent him toppling over, Steve skidded in his tracks.

“STEVE!” Jane yelled his name, as Steve grabbed at the Demogorgon, stopping it in place.

He felt his heart thump wildly, and deep ringing stung his ear drums as he formed fists with his outstretched hands. The Demogorgon screeched, and swung its long clawed arms to reach Steve. Steve winced as he kept the creature mid air, lifting it higher with his own scream.

He brought everything he had, all the anger and exhausted strength coming forth to build to a mass inside his chest. He felt his feet lift off the ground, as he pushed his anger into the Demogorgon’s chest, and threw the monster deep into the woods.

It’s terrifying screech tunnelled down the woods, and Steve felt his body drop onto the ground as everything went black.

——

“Shit!” Dustin screamed from the dark and slimy upside-down-version of Mirkwood Road. Alongside the other party members, they rushed to Steve’s dull body splayed onto the floor. “Shit, man! That was so fucking cool!” He laughed in delirium, dropping to his knees at Steve’s side.

The teenagers eyes were closed, and his face was covered in blood. Jane wiped away the blood at his nose, and Lucas coughed as he shook Steve’s body. Dustin’s smile dropped, as the teenagers chest stopped moving.

“Steve…?” Dustin spoke quietly, placing a hand onto the superhero’s neck.

There was no pulse.

Chapter Text

The twang of electricity shot through Hopper’s pulse, the electric baton prodding into the side of his neck and hitting his pulse point with currents of white electricity. He groaned, and felt bile rise up his throat. He coughed, as they started talking again.

“Who do you work for?” The woman insisted, her fitted suit covered in his spat blood across her trouser hem and pristine black shoes. Hopper spat on them again, and blood trickled between his teeth.

“I’m the Chief… of Police.” He panted, groaning as he curled up into himself in the corner. The woman, and the man beside her holding the assaulting weapon, loomed over him, keeping him trapped. “I’ve told you… a million times.” He gritted between his teeth. “Garhh-“ He groaned again, as he felt the cattle prod press into the back of his neck.

His sight flashed white, as he spewed thin bile out onto the floor. He opened his eyes, and noticed the woman’s shoes were damp.

——

Joyce sat with her hands wringing atop the metal table, her hands cuffed to the middle and the chain clanging and snapping with each move she made. She stared at the mirror beside her, hoping she was staring straight through to one of the assholes who had ambushed them hours prior.

Everything had moved so quickly, the door had slammed open and there had been guns pointed at her face. Three armed men aimed their large guns at her head, ready to blow her brains out.

Steve’s desperate yell had rattled her head since the shrill sound screamed past the chaos. Telling the children to run, before she had caught a glance of Steve’s shoes disappearing out the window. Joyce had been dragged by arms out of the cabin, where she watched Nancy yell for Jonathan as her poor boy was knocked out with a blow to the head, and noticed the armed men running around the side of the cabin to chase the children around the back.

She did not remember hearing them after, being shoved into a dark black van with Hopper and the two teenagers, her son unconscious.

They had brought her here, and before they were separated Hopper had snapped in a whisper, “Don’t say a word.” And she understood.

She didn’t need to see the outside of the building to know where they were. The bad men that Steve had been so afraid of had taken them, she was certain this was the Lab.

The Lab, that Steve had miraculously escaped that night Joyce nearly ran him over. The place he had been for his entire life, tested and experimented on to be created into a monster, a weapon for mass destruction in a war the boy had not been asked to become apart of.

She felt her eyes turn damp as the door opened, and the sight of stark white hair and a fake smile dried her eyes up in an instant.

“Hello, Joyce.” The man spoke as he sat across from her, a separate man following inside the room and closing the door behind them both. “I’m Martin Brenner, the owner of Hawkins Lab.” As the man confirmed what Joyce knew to be true, the other came to lean over the table between them, reaching for her hands stuck chained to the middle. Joyce stiffened her body instantly.

As soon as her chains were unlocked, she instantly brought her hands to her chest and rubbed at the raw rings around her wrists. She peered to this Martin Brenner sat watching her, and spoke with a croak in her voice from her desperate yelling hours ago.

“Why have you taken us?” She reframed from asking about Jonathan, although she was desperate to make sure he and Nancy were okay. And Hopper…

“I’m sure you are aware why we have taken you and your friends into custody, Mrs. Byers.” He spoke with a level of ambiguity that shined in his dead eyes, and Joyce watched him warily.

“Where is my son?” She could no longer reframe, the thought of Jonathan coming back to her with a shaved head and a tattoo for a name near sending a shiver down her spine. They had done awful things to Steve, would they want to replace him with her oldest son?

She felt anger rise up her throat. “Where is he?!” She yelled before the white haired man had a chance of speak.

“He and Ms. Wheeler are alright. They’ve been kept in custody together, given their age.” He seemed sympathetic, and Joyce could see the bump on the back of his head now. Funny, that Brenner thought Jonathan and Nancy should be spared of interrogation because of their age, given Steve had been treated as an experimented animal his whole life. She could almost laugh.

But Joyce looked deeper into the man’s stare, and she knew he was waiting for her to take the bait. He knew, that Joyce knew the horror Steve went through under this building. What a more perfect way to act innocent so Joyce could rave and yell about Steve’s injustice.

But she wasn’t stupid.

“Of course.” She shrugged, doing a poor job of appearing nonchalant. She kept rubbing over her wrists. “And Hopper?”

Martin Brenner took a second to reply. “Jim Hopper is a tough man.” He leaned closer, adjusting his waistcoat as he sat up further. “Now, Mrs. Byers I won’t beat around the bush. I am aware you, and Jim Hopper, and effectively your son and his partner, have come into contact with an orphaned teenaged boy recently?”

Joyce shrugged again, feeling her stiff shoulders ache as they reached her ears. “No. I’ve lived in Hawkins my entire life, not once have I met anyone new.” She tried, and Martin Brenner doubtfully ignored her quip.

“I’d like you to take this seriously. He is a dangerous man, and not what he has appeared himself to be.” He leaned in closer, speaking with a lower tone. “He has done terrible things. I would think it best for your children’s safety, that-“

“You don’t get to tell me about my children’s safety.” She snapped, speaking his low and condescending tone as she too leaned closer, her eyes set hard on the man’s older, tired face. “Not when you took my son.”

Martin Brenner seemed to sigh, and relent as he sat back in his chair. He rubbed over his aching eyes with one hand, the other resting on the table in a loose fist. “Mrs. Byers I assure you we have not taken your son.” He said on his outbreath, and Joyce felt her face turn red.

“I know you have! You’ve taken him as-“ She stopped herself before she could continue, although Martin Brenner did not prod her to repeat her unfinished sentence. Instead, he seemed to reach into his pocket and provide a discreet radio that he spoke into.

“Bring him in. Room 117.” He spoke, and turned the object off with a crackle and a switch at the side of the sleek box. “You’ll see Jim Hopper soon, Mrs. Byers.” Martin Brenner finished, and stood and left.

Leaving Joyce alone.

——

Until Jim appeared.

Her mouth dropped at the sight of him, his face mangled and bruised. His neck was no better, turning black and purple from the centre of two tiny dots across each side. Joyce stayed quiet, as she was cuffed once again, and stood to follow beside Hopper down the hallway. This time, her hands were cuffed to lay in front of herself, at her lap.

Wordlessly, Joyce looked up to Hopper, watching his bruised neck and sweaty face. She grimaced at how they must have treated him, and watched his face stay hardened and stern. Hopper stared daggers into the back of Martin Brenner’s head as the man walked, and it took the ringing in Joyce’s ears to fade for her to realise the man was speaking.

“-show you something I hope you’ll understand. If my theory is true, and you are aware of Number Seven’s existence, then you’ll understand how drastic this situation is.”Martin Brenner spoke with an edge, as if he feared revealing the big secret that was to be revealed. Hopper glanced down to Joyce’s side, his face mirroring Joyce’s thoughts; that they had somehow been thrown into something a lot bigger than themselves.

Rounding corners trailing behind Martin Brenner’s quick pace, the two were lead to a small room overseeing a large window on their right. What was revealed to them, left the two struck.

A large, long gaping hole trailed across the back wall, strung together with vines and thick strings of a liquid that appeared solid, and stocky to the touch. Light flashed behind the strung opening, orange and blue appearing like explosions behind the… the gateway to… a place Joyce was unsure.

No, she knew where this portal led to. An inhumane world, where her little boy had been trapped.

The gate to the upside down. It was under the lab all this time.

Joyce felt her chest intake a gulp of air, as she pushed past Martin Brenner to get impossibly closer to the large thick window placed between herself, and her chances of getting her little boy back home.

“Will…” She couldn’t help but mouth his name, a hand placed against the cool glass. She could feel the eyes on the back of her neck, watching in bewilderment at her enchantment. Joyce tried to compose herself; knew she was revealing too much. She could not reveal Steven’s safety through her own zealous behaviour. But her boy, her little boy was stuck behind that gate…

How could she not stare at its disgusting strings of slime, or follow the cracks against the wall as the gate seemed to stem from the centre, and grow outwards into the wall, cracking the plaster around the brick, tearing through her once seamless life.

Yes, this was all becoming much bigger than Joyce had thought she could comprehend.

But she had to keep Steve safe. She owed that to him at least.

——

“STEVE! You’ve got to wake up, man! C’mon!”

“Dustin! It’s getting closer!”

“Grab his arms, we’ve got to-“

——

“So, you see now?” Martin Brenner asked with a gesture towards the gaping hole in the wall: displaying a portal to another dimension. “If you do have intel on Number Seven, and I’m fully aware that you do - Please, for the sake of humanity. Seven is the only one capable of fixing this mess. I need him back where he belongs; here with me.” He finished with his eyes boring into Hopper’s own. The taller, built chief of police only stared back, his teeth gritted against each other as a bead of sweat ran down his temple.

“Let me go through the portal.”

——

“Please, steve. Just open your-“

——

Eddie felt his body rock in place, his hands gripping his growing hair with ringed white knuckles. Uncle Wayne had left him to it, after coddling him all evening by not leaving his side. If he was offered a hot cocoa again, he might go ballistic.

His curtains were pulled shut, blocking the dark outside. Every light he owned turned on, giving Eddie a headache every time he lifted his face out of his crossed arms against his knees. He had rummaged through all of his shit to find the broken, decade old nightlights he had as a kid, when he had just moved into his uncle’s place and was shit scared of the dark. A little rabbit nightlight glowed brightly in a yellow hew, against his ugly flea-market lamp that stuttered every so often.

As Eddie rocked where he sat on his messy bed, surrounded by lights, he missed the odd way each light jittered from one side of the room, to the other. As if someone had passed through the room and casted a shadow in the bulbs.

Eddie missed when it happened again in quick succession to the last, and missed the following three more times after.

——

Hopper was highly against Joyce coming through the portal with him. She could have been hurt, and she had her little boy to get back to once Hopper found him and brought Will home. But she had insisted, and they weren’t in the setting to argue.

So, Joyce’s smaller body nudged closer to his side, the bump nearly missed through the thick rubber bee-suits adorning their bodies. Hopper glanced down to her side, watching her worried eyes as they stepped closer, and closer, to the unknown horror dimension before them.

At least they knew the monsters they were likely to run into. Hopper wasn’t sure if being aware of the danger he was putting Joyce and himself into was any more comforting than going into this upside-down-world blindly.

“We have you attached to a tether.” Martin Brenner’s voice filled his ear through the black ear place nestled into his right ear. It was heavy, and already started to ache past the adrenaline surging. By Joyce’s startle, she had heard the voice also. “If anything happens, if anything feels amiss. We can pull you straight out.”

Hopper’s brow raised. “He doesn’t care whatever happens to us.” Hopper scoffed, and Joyce beside him seemed to grin.

But the somber moment turned sour very quickly, and the two adults seemed to take deep breaths before stepping closer, into the upside down.

——

“Oh god, man. You’re bleeding so mu-.”

——

Hopper groaned against the squelching strings breaking as he passed through the rip in the wall. Joyce followed behind him with her own belch of disgust at the sticky sound beneath their feet. Hopper turned dizzy as he walked closer to the exploding lights behind the slime, and squinted against the sudden dark world that revealed to him.

It was the lab. The wall ahead revealed the large window, although no Martin Brenner or his cronies sat watching safely from behind the glass. No, it was smashed with a large hole in the middle, revealing nobody on the other side.

The rest of the lab was coated in thick black vines, trailing up and around the walls of the room. Joyce soon appeared beside him, and Joyce turned to her bewildered face.

“This is the place he told us about.” Joyce spoke carefully, afraid of what may surround them in this dimension, but also aware of the people listening to their every word back in their home world.

“We need to find Will.” Hopper started trudging forwards, careful with stepping on anything other-worldly. Who knew what this world was filled with. Joyce followed his steps, careful as she passed through.

“It’s a good thing this world is like our own.” Joyce commented by the time thy got down the hall of the path Brenner had led them towards. “We won’t get lost.” She tried, trying to keep the atmosphere light. However, Hopper soon had to follow after her step, a sudden determination in her stature turning her faster. Hopper understood.

Before, Will had seemed so far away. And now, they were so close to bringing him home.

But they were nearly out the labs door’s when the roar started from ahead. And it was even sooner that both adults felt the pull on the tether attached to their protective suits.

So close, yet so far.

——

“We have to keep going!”

“I can’t, he’s slipping! I can’t-“

Chapter Text

It’s a fearful scene that wakes him.

Accompanied by the terrifying screech of an unholy monster, with a petal shaped mouth and razor sharp teeth. Spores float around them like mites, making the scared children around him cough into their elbows. Steve can feel his head pounding, and the thump thump thumping makes his eyes blur over. He can’t quite make a clear depiction out of the monster he holds in his grasp, tighter and tighter around its thick black neck, until it can’t breathe anymore; until he can’t breathe anymore.

He does feel the distant grip of small arms wrapping around him, something heavy clings onto his waist with desperation. Steve finds that the hold keeps him upright, intentionally or not, and gives him enough strength to throw the steadily blurring figure into the abyss of clouded blue and black foreground.

The thumping against his temples accompanies the dull screeching of the child around his waist, and whilst he tumbles back to the ground, Steve can tell it’s Dustin holding him onto him.

Steve feels his head bounce against the damp ground he collapses into, and just makes out the blurred curls appearing above him before he sees nothing again.

They’re safe, for now. Steve thinks in his head, stuck in the void unlike the one he was forced to explore. For now, I’ve helped them.

Steve hopes he wakes up soon before the children need his help again.

——

“Hey, asshole!” Nancy yelled repeatedly, kicking at the table leg and sending a deep rattling feeling through Jonathan’s chest. “We’re ready to talk now! C’mon assholes, get in here!”

“Nancy!” Jonathan yelled with a wince, reaching for her hand that gripped the table their wrists were kept chained to. “They aren’t coming.” He shook his head gently, his voice tired. He was tired. He was worried, terrified. The kids had ran off with Steve, and if anyone could look after them it probably wouldn’t be Steve. The guy was nice, and he had superpowers or whatever the kids called it, but he wasn’t the strongest looking guy. Even Jonathan's arms were bigger than Steve’s. The guy was a stick, how was he supposed to keep four children safe from armed men, the same men who kidnapped him in the first place.

God, Jonathan could feel his breath catching in his throat. Those poor kids. Jonathan couldn’t help but think about the ‘what if’. ‘What if’ the were taken like Steve, used and experimented on. Missing t their families forever. Like his little brother-

“Jonathan?” Nancy’s converse voice echoed as if she was down a long tunnel. The hand gripping his felt tighter. He felt his knuckles turn white. He felt the blood rush to his head.

The door slammed open, and revealed a breathless, sweat soaked Chief Hopper.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” He demanded, before being pushed aside. Two guards appeared with keys, unlocking the cuffs.

“Hopper?” Nancy called, a million questions running through their minds. Jonathan let the guard roughly uncut him from the table, watching Hopper come towards them.

As Nancy was in cuffed, Hopper grabbed them both by the sleeve and hefted he and Nancy up onto their feet.

“Are we leaving?” Jonathan asked as his eyes fled from the baring stares from the two guards. Who Hopper pushed past without his hands relenting his grip on them. In short order, they were pushed out of their cell and into the hall.

Turning to his left, Jonathan caught sight of him mom, and ran into her arms with ease. Watching her gaps as he ran into her, she gripped him tight, stroking over the back of his hair. Jonathan copied with her’s and his hand came back damp to the touch.

Pulling away for a moment, he saw his mom’s red eyes, her haggard look. “Mom?” He asked with a silent question. ‘What did they do to you?’ He demanded, bile rising up his throat at every possibility.

Without answering, she pat his cheek gently, and glanced over his shoulder. When Jonathan turned, he caught sight of white hair, and a perfect smile peering down at them.

By Hopper’s glare, and the way Joyce gripped Jonathan tighter around his middle, Jonathan knew who that man was in an instant.

The bad man. The one Steve had said hurt him, abused him. His ‘Papa’.

Jonathan felt his own face turn red with anger.

——

“He was awake!” Dustin screeched, holding the battered teens head in his lap. Jane had watched with a pounding chest as the Demogorgon nearly ripped Mikes face off with its massive black claws-for-hands. It appeared out of nowhere, somehow sensing that they were getting closer and closer to the Byers’ hidden cabin; to safety, before the darn thing had to appear and nearly kill them all. Steve had been knocked out completely, no amount of Dustin’s screaming or Mike’s belligerent insults could wake him up. But Steve, who looked as beat as Jane felt scared, shot up onto his feet, and used his super powers to grab hold of the beast, and throw it into the deep dark woods where it came from.

Steve had saved them too many times to count by now. But he seemed to be getting worse and worse.

“We know, Dustin! You’ve said that a million times!” Mike groaned, rubbing at his face with a haunted look behind his eyes. Lucas seemed to stay a bit closer to his friend’s side than he normally would, a hand placed gently on top of Mike’s shoulder.

“And we all saw it.” Lucas grumbled, not as irritated by Dustin. The two shared a look, both glancing to Mike in an unspoken conversation. Jane knew that Lucas was just as scared as her, thinking back to how they could have watched Mike die before them. Dustin was probably scared of that too, but he had been so fascinated by Steve that it seemed it was all the other boy could think about. Mike was just too scared at the moment to understand. Lucas and Jane broke contact, their silent conversation passing between them.

Jane knelt by Steve’s side, placing a hand against his pulse point, and finding it thumping a dull beat.

“We need to get to the Byers.” Jane insisted, turning to the other boys and glancing between them.

Mike perked up, standing up straighter as his hands pulled away from his face. There, revealed a large gash across his cheek. Jane felt her heart stop in her chest.

“Yeah! We need to find Will!” Mike insisted, searching frantically around himself to look for the same direction they had been going before they were attacked. “This way. We should be there quick if we hurry.”

“Mike.” Jane tried, rushing over to her friends side and inspecting the wound with a wince. “That looks really bad.” Black goo dropped from the wound, and tentatively Jane wiped away the mess with her sleeve, afraid it might make the wound infected.

“I’m fine. We have to find Will.” Mike continued to insist, glancing back over her shoulder towards Dustin and Steve. When Jane turned too, Dustin was holding Steve’s limp hand tightly in his own.

“C’mon!” Mike called with irritation lingering in his tone, and Jane could do nothing else but follow.

——

“-should be a first aid kit in the-“

“Got it! Where’s Mike?”

“I’m here! I found these-“

“Guns?! Your mom has guns in the house?”

“They were in the shed. I grabbed them when-“

“Shhhhh! He’s waking!”

Steve heard the sound of dropped items and running feet coming towards him as his eyes started to open and he groaned at the nauseous swelling in his chest. His head kept pounding, and his eyes stung like the lights were all on. But this place was filled with haunting figures bustling around him.

“Wha-“ He tried to speak, but multiple shrill shush sounds spoke above him, and he groaned again as his blurry eyes started to clear, and five children peered down at him with knackered dirt-covered faces.

Five.

Five children…

“Will?”

——

The short walk back to Hopper’s materialised truck turned silent once Hopper felt the edge of a rifle dug into his back. Eight guards accompanied them, two for each teenager walking ahead, and four behind Joyce and Hopper dressed in hazmat suits as he and Joyce’s hair dripped from the sterilisation treatment. Joyce sucked in a breath, and Hopper knew the guard closest to her was pushing her along with his gun also. He felt a rage wash over him, and Hopper’s knees started to ache with how hard he stomped towards the car.

Once they got close enough, the guards stopped following them out and stood a close distance, watching as Joyce got into the passenger side and the teens followed into the back.

Hopper opened his door, and inspected the inside of his truck. The seat had been pushed forwards. Obviously, whoever drove the truck from his cabin was shorter than he was. He turned to the guards and grinned patronisingly, just like his father taught him.

“You take her for a little spin?” ‘Whilst we were inside that hellhole’ went unspoken, as the guards in front of him gripped their guns menacingly. He nodded towards them, as Joyce’s stare screamed at him to get inside.

He slammed his door, watching Joyce through the corner of his eye, her mouth opening then closing again as if she eagerly wanted to speak, but reframed. The teenagers didn’t speak a word in the back, both Nancy and Jonathan holding their breath as they got further and further away from the lab.

It started to rain as they left, making the roads slippery. Hopper only drove away faster.

“Jim-“ Joyce started, about to theorise once they had gotten far enough away from the lab, and talk over whatever the hell they had just seen in that… place.

Hopper shot his hand up.

“Not yet.” He said simply, glancing to the crackling radio. A different station he had never heard before played upbeat tunes. Hopper grabbed at the plastic, and ripped it off with one movement. Behind the plastic stuck across the radio, lay a small piece of metal attracted to a few wires, working their way into the innards of the radio itself.

Glancing to each other, Joyce’s face tightened, and she gripped the metal and wretched it apart from the wares, that sparked as Joyce rolled down her window, and threw out the bug into a nearby puddle.

“Now?” Nancy perked up impatiently from behind him.

“We can be sure. They’ve probably bugged the entire truck, and the cabin.” Hopper made a wincing noise with his teeth, gripping the steering wheel. The rain splattered down onto the window, blurring the image before him. Beside him, Joyce rubbed at her sore wrists.

Hopper glanced back at the two in the back. “Can we go to your place?” He shot towards Nancy, who stared at him for a moment as if he had grown two heads.

“Are you crazy? They’re probably there looking for Mike. I don’t even know what I’d tell my parents.” Nancy shook her head. “No. Not my place.” She deflated, seemingly thinking about other places they could hide out for a while.

“We can’t go to the cabin. Or your place.” He gestured towards Joyce, who stared at him with a concentrated face. Hopper groaned, turning back to the wet road as the map of Hawkin’s appeared across him vision, pin pointing every space he was least-likely to appear. Someplace that wouldn’t be bugged…

“What happened to you two?” Jonathan’s quiet voice was heard loud and clear through the thoughtful silence.

“Not here.” Hopper repeated through his clenched teeth, driving faster and passing an heap of old scrap metal surrounding trash simply chucked from people’s car windows on Hopper’s left. Glancing to the mess, Hopper felt the idea rush to him.

“I know where we can go.” Hopper put his foot down to the ground, and drove as fast as he could towards the junkyard.

——

“Will?” Steve repeated as the world shot back to his vision. Before him, Will’s tired face was inches from his own.

Steve stumbled where he gripped at Will’s frail shoulder’s. His feet were numb below him, his top lip crusted with dried blood. Will looked so small in his hold.

His clothes were soaked, his jacket wet to the touch and his jeans dark with dirt scuffs at the knees. He gripped the little boys shoulders tightly, shaking him a little as the dizziness overcame his vision.

“Will. You’re here.”

Through tearful, thick coughing, Will nodded as his tiny hands gripped Steve’s arms. Steve grabbed at Will’s wrists. “I’m okay, Steve.” Pulling up his sleeves, Steve caught sight of Will’s dark blue veins appearing across his arms, bleeding dark blood under his cold pale skin. There was no ink under the little boys skin.

Steve snapped his head up to the little boys face; his sweet, scratched face. His pale blue lips, his haunted look behind his eyes. “I’m f-“ Before Will had time to lie to him again, Steve pulled him into his arms, gripping him tighter and tighter.

“I’ve got you.” Steve spoke gently into Will’s crown, leaning over to wrap his body over the smallest boy, hoping to protect him from this dark world. No boy this young, this innocent, should have had to endure /this place/.

He felt Will’s body shake with wracking tears before the boy made a sound. A faint sob spilled from his lips, and a dam broke forth. He sobbed into Steve’s dirty, bloodied shirt. And Steve only held him tighter, curling around the boy to huddle around him, trying to give him some warmth, some strength. Although Steve felt sick where he stood, nauseous with exhaustion aching his bones, he tried with all his might to push some of his strength into the boy sobbing into his chest.

It rushed back to Steve in waves. This horrible place. The place his void connected to. The tests they did on him. Find this person, now find this one. Two different worlds. The place he went to, his void, was only the middle ground.

This place.

He had seen horrors appear in this place. Man-eating monsters and a looming figure feasting off of life.

The place Will had been stuck all this time.

The Upside Down.

He gripped Will tighter, and tighter.

Chapter Text

“So, it was Hawkins.” Nancy reiterated, her voice deep in thought as she tried to imagine the picture Hopper and Joyce painted. “But… darker. And scarier. That’s the upside down Steve told us about?” she shuffled where she sat diagonally across the back aisle seat in the bus.

Joyce nodded where she sat in the aisle seat ahead of Nancy, glancing to Jonathan who sat beside her, leaning over the side of the chair to dig his elbows into his knees. Nancy watched him pull at his hair, rubbing his hands over his face.

“It must be.” Joyce shuddered, glancing up to Hopper who stood looking out the bus’ back window, peering through the cracks for any sign of being followed. “Did those doctors talk to you two?” Joyce turned to them, and Nancy let out a breath.

“They tried asking us about Steve. We told them we didn’t have a clue who that was. Jonathan asked about Will.” Nancy trailed off, turning to the stressed teenager ahead of her.

Joyce gripped her son’s hand as it fell from his face. His eyes were red.

“I asked if they knew where he was, if they had taken him. They didn’t say anything.” He groaned out his words, frustration littering his tone. He gripped his bagging jeans, his knuckles turning white. “They didn’t say they found the other kids or Steve.”

Joyce shook her head. “No.” She agreed. “They’re still missing.”

“Do you think they’re in that place?” Nancy quipped, bringing all gazes onto her. She felt her fingers twitch at the sudden attention. “The upside down. If they haven’t been found, they must be hiding. Maybe… they found a way in.”

“They found a gate.” Jonathan rushed. “Do you remember, after Steve said he saw Barb. We said we needed to find a way in to get Will and Barb out, Steve said we needed to find a gate to get inside.”

“Maybe they found that gate.” Nancy agreed, her back straightening out as she pointed to Jonathan with a harsh nod. “Maybe Steve /made/ a gate into the upside down.”

“They’re hiding.” Jonathan agreed, turning to his mom whose mouth hung open. “If they haven’t been found yet, they must be hiding.”

“In that place?” Joyce’s voice shook. Hopper appeared beside them, listening intently. “Maybe they’ve found Will.” She turned to Hopper, gripping his hand hanging by her shoulder. “Maybe they’re all hiding together, waiting for us.” Her voice tightened, tears forming in her red eyes. Nancy could see something new shining in them; Hope.

“If the upside down is a mirrored reality of our world,” Nancy started, drawing the attention to herself. Her chest puffed up, making her voice stronger. “What if we find where they’re hiding, but in our world. You communicated to Will through lights, right Ms. Byers?”

Joyce nodded, patting at Hopper’s hand in her small tight grip. “With the lights at my house.”

“Then, we go there. If the others haven’t found Will, at least we can tell him that they’re there with him. That help is on the way.” Nancy explained encouragingly, as Joyce let out a hopeful sob from between her lips, a humourless smile appearing on her lips at the formation of a plan.

“And if they have found him, maybe Steve can make a gateway back to this world.” Jonathan agreed, reaching for his mother’s other hand over the seats.

“We have to make sure it’s safe before they come out of hiding.” Hopper finally spoke, rubbing over his beard in thought. “Steve’s not safe with Brenner still after him.”

“Then we distract him.” Joyce spoke with a tense anger. “We keep him away from the gate in the lab.”

“No. He’d never leave it unattended. There’s a reason we have never seen this guy. He must live in that lab.” Hopper groaned. “If we draw too much attention then he’ll know that we’re trying to keep him distracted.”

“So do what he wants.” Nancy decided, glancing between the two adults with poise. “Don’t let him suspect anything. Do what he asks, but don’t make it obvious that it’s a distraction.” She turned to Jonathan. “We can get the kids out. If Steve opens a gate in the cabin, we can get them out.” At Jonathan’s nod of approval, she turned back to the two adults. “You two distract Brenner.”

Between them, the formation of a plan was put into place. As they rushed back into the truck, Hopper making quick work of speeding towards the Byers cabin, a bustling energy filled their chests.

Maybe they’d finally be able to bring Will home.

——

A wet cough wracked Will’s form, his blue lips quivering as he huddled into Steve’s aching side. His entire body hurt. Their matching sagging eyes showed their exhaustion. Surrounding them on the sofa, huddled the other coughing, shaking children. The distant screeches of a nearby monster called for the children to form a pile around Steve’s body. The wriggling vines spiralling across the furniture, slithering up the walls, made the huddle of bodies awkward. Will advised them not to touch the black sticky vines with a haunted look behind his eyes. Steve only held him tighter.

On each side sat Will and Dustin, effectively propping Steve’s limp body up where he sat on the sofa. At his legs were Mike and Jane, holding cold hands across Steve’s feet. Lucas sat by Jane’s side, leaning his head on her shoulder. The six stayed very quiet, and extremely still. Their whacking coughs were muffled into their hands, the spores surrounding them attacking their lungs. Each breath filled with thick dust mites, making their throats dry and their lungs feel itchy from the inside. Steve felt a breathless cough escape his lips, as the nearby screeching sound dulled into the distance.

“It’s gone.” Will shuddered, and everyone seemed to drop their shoulders, and let out a shuddering breath. Slowly, Lucas and Jane stood to hop over the vines, and make their way towards the kitchen in some desperate plea to find food.

“Will.” Steve spoke gently, as Dustin gripped his shoulder, and slid down to the ground to talk to Mike. Dustin’s hand kept a grip around Steve’s skinny ankle. “Are you alright?” Steve felt the question was silly, because they wee far from being considered ‘alright.’

“It’s been so cold.” Will spoke after a moment, not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “It’s so, so cold here. I was on my fort for a while. That /thing/, the monster, it destroyed it.” He sniffled, wiping at his nose. He shook his head. Suddenly, his brow furrowed. “How did you get here?”

“I made a gate.” He explained, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the tattooed numbers across his arm. 007. “Do you remember?”

Will gripped his arm gently, his small fingers frail and cold to the touch. Steve refused to flinch at the boys hold.

“How could I forget.” Will’s lip quirked in a tiny smile, a sight unfitting for their gruesome surroundings. “You fixed the toaster.”

“I can get us out.” Steve nodded, looking into Will’s eyes. “I promise. I don’t lie.” He spoke firmly. “I can’t now… not now. But soon. I’ll try.” He nodded, gripping his weak hands. They barely formed a tight enough fist. His body shook with the force. “I’ll get you out, Will.” Steve promised, and Will’s tired body crashed into Steve’s own. They held each other tightly, Steve repeating his promise over and over.

I’ll get you out.

I’ll get them all out of here.

I promise.

Steve just didn’t know when.

“Uh, guys?” Lucas spoke from the kitchen, both him and Jane staring up towards the ceiling. “Do you hear that?” He whispered. The four in the living room strained their ears, leaning towards the where the two stood in the kitchen.

There, a distant voice echoed from a far distance, like a long tunnel sending a message from one end to the other.

“Mom?” Will perked, as other voices filtered through the tunnel.

Mike stood up with a startled expression. “Is that my sister?”

——

“Will?!” Joyce near screamed as she tumbled through the door, rushing towards the light’s on the wall and placing her hands against it. “Will, it’s me honey!”

Behind her, Hopper stomped into the kitchen, as Nancy and Jonathan searched each light, each remote or corner of the house for microphone bugs or secret cameras recording their every move.

“Check tour camera!” Nancy ushered towards Jonathan, waving towards the camera in his bag. He zipped it open, and searched frantically. He pulled papers and random rolls of film out, and found his camera. Without a second thought, he smashed it into the corner of the coffee table, sending it smashing into pieces.

There, a red wire among black revealed itself. Jonathan picked it out, and threw it onto the ground. He stomped on it a few times, before handing it to Hopper who rushed past with heavy footsteps. Holding his own collection of red wires, and grabbing Jonathan’s from his fingers, he went out the front door to dispose of them. Jonathan turned to his mom, who was still pressing her body against the wall, yelling his little brother’s name.

Jonathan watched with a lump in his throat, thinking back to when he thought his mom was turning hysterical. He couldn’t help but think for a moment, just a moment, that maybe his mom was-

Out of the corner of his eye, the Christmas light hanging above the black painted M on the wall, started to light up.

M
O
M

“Oh my god.” Jonathan whispered under his breath, as his mother sobbed harder, and Nancy came to stand beside him.

“Yeah. Oh my god.” She repeated as the lights repeated shining.

M
O
M

M
O
M

Jonathan stood in awe.

——

“Keep going!” Lucas encouraged as Dustin and Mike used the light particles to spell out for Ms. Byers. Steve watched nearby with Will under his arm, the kids had to use the sofa to reach the alphabet painted onto the wall, meaning he and Will stood up against the wall. Steve let Will use his body for support, even as his knees buckled under himself every few minutes. Will had been so strong in the upside down alone, the least Steve could do was let the boy use him for support.

“Wait shhh! They’re talking!” Jane waved, silencing the group. Steve was worried their increasing volume would attract the nearby monsters. As long as they kept away from the vines, Will said, they should be alright.

Silence overcame them, bar the nearby screeching and the pounding red thunder in the blue skyline outside.

“…hear us?” Hopper’s loud voice was silenced by a nearby lightning crack. Dustin glanced between them, his face confused.

“What did he say?”

“Barely.” Mike spoke, before turning to the wall and spelling the word. Dustin watched with bated breath.

“Okay. HOW ABOUT NOW?!” The yell shook them all. It sounded like Hopper was in the kitchen, not a different world. Steve had never heard a man yell so loud.

“Yes.” The children groaned in unison, Mike spelling the word with a belligerent eye roll.

“OKAY!” He yelled again. Again, they all groaned. “WILL, ARE THE OTHERS WITH YOU YET?”

The children turned to the coughing boy, a shaking hand brought up to his mouth. He was looking worse and worse each hour, or however long they had been stuck in the upside down. Steve gripped his tighter into his side.

“Say yes.” Will spoke hoarsely, rubbing at his throat. Steve’s brow furrowed, and he looked down at his too-long shirt.

As Mike spelled out his response, and continued to explain to Hopper that they had all been hiding in the Byers house since arriving, Steve’s ripped at the hem of his shirt, and brought it up to Will’s face. The muscles in his arms screamed at him for the movement, still drained from the use of his powers, from protecting the children, from making the gate in the first place. He couldn’t give up on his promise.

“Protect?” Steve patted at his chest, feeling the spores itch on his own chest. Will had been breathing it for hours though, maybe now was too little too late…

Will took the fabric with a small smile, tying the fabric around his neck for him to drag it up over his mouth when needed.

“We should make masks for everyone.” Will spoke hoarsely, coughing into his sleeve. Steve nodded.

“Masks.” He agreed, ripping with shaking hands at the rest of the extra fabric at his t-shirt, until he couldn’t rip anymore off without revealing his stick figure.

As Steve passed the last mask towards Jane, Will making Mike one who was preoccupied with talking through the lights, Mike turned towards him.

“Steve, did you hear that?” He snapped with urgency, not malice. Steve shook his head, and Mike repeated. “They asked if you can make a gate back to the other world.”

“I…” Steve felt his hands shake. He shook his head, as a sickly feeling rushed up his throat. “Not yet.”

“He’s too tired.” Jane defended him before Mike had a chance to respond. “He can, but not now. Ask them to make a way to us.”

“They can’t.” Lucas groaned with frustration at the situation. “We’re stuck her until Steve can make a way out.”

As Mike turned to the alphabet across the wall to spell out an answer, Steve felt his fingers form a fist.

“I can try.” He knew he shouldn’t. He should wait until he got stronger, but this place… it was eating him alive.

Each second that passes in the dark underworld, felt as if a part of his power was taken away from him. Like, something was feeding off of his energy. Steve had never felt this tired before. Not when he exploded that doctor’s brains, or searched for Will and Barb. This world… it sucked the life out of him. He would be nothing to these children without his powers, and waiting to gain his strength back would only lead to his death. And poor Will didn’t have time to wait for Steve to feel better. He had been down here so long, and now he had a chance to escape he was being told to wait.

No. Steve wouldn’t be so selfish.

“I’ll do it.” He turned to Will, who stumbled towards him. He gripped Will’s shoulder, and looked the boy in the eyes. “I promised.”

Steve turned back to Mike, straightening his back as he clenched his fingers. “Tell them I’ll open the gate.”

——

S
T
E
V
E

…

O
P
E
N

…

G
A
T
E

…

N
O
W

…

T
R
Y

…

S
T
A
N
D

…

B
A
C
K

Steve felt the muscles in his hand strain as he clenched his fingers out in front of himself, standing by the wall near the front door of the cabin. The children huddled in the kitchen watching intently. Cheers erupted from them as Steve started to groan, his upper lip turning wet as a trickle of blood spilled out his nose. His already-aching body started to scream. He felt his eyes well with hot tears.

“You’ve got this Steve!” Dustin cheered. Turning to look back at the children, he caught sight of Will’s limp body dangling in Mike’s arm, the other boy trying his hardest to keep Will upright with his arms around his middle. Although exhausted, Will gave a reassuring smile, but his eyes shined a desperate plea for Steve to save them, to get them out of this horrible place.

Steve took a breath, and turned back to face the wall. With a guttural noise rumbling his chest, he brought his other arm up towards the wall and focused.

He imaged the borrowed shirt he wore, a gift from Hopper as Steve had yet to own his own clothes. He had ripped the hem of the shirt with difficulty, his muscles aching as the seam ripped with a crunching split. The fabric frayed at the edges, leaving strings of cotton now dangling around his hips. The split around his borrowed grey shirt resembled the revealing hole in the wall.

Steve let out a violent groan, the strain in his fingers rocketing up into his forearms, his elbows, his houlders shook with tension. He felt his power flow through him, dull but no less persistent.

Slowly, the hole in the wall started to erode around its sides, leaving a thick layer in between the upside down and the world Steve revealed. As he groaned, and pushed his powers harder, the children ran forwards, yelling in a group peering into the hole that grew bigger, and bigger.

Soon enough, a gateway between two worlds lay in the wood wall of the Byers home. Not big enough for any of the children to fit through, but the thick wet sheet between them revealed a blurred image of Hopper, Joyce and two teenagers worried faces on the other side.

“Mom!” Will called out, as Steve’s knees buckled under himself and he fell to the ground.

“Will! My baby, I see you!” Joyce yelled, muffled through the sheet between them.

Steve closed his eyes, and let out an exhausted breath. Time turned slower, his hands doubled in his vision, the voices surrounding him turned muffled.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled as Steve’s blurry vision showed Will pressing as closely as he could to the wall, leaning on his toes to look through the gate. Mike and Lucas hoisted Will up by his middle, keeping him upright to finally see him mom again. Steve felt his eyes strain to make out their crying faces.

“I’m okay.” Steve whispered, barely being heard over the excited, tearful screaming, and the orders from Hopper on the other side of the world. “The gate?” He asked, pulling a hand to his temples and rubbing at the dull throbbing there. He felt sick in his stomach, bile rushing up his throat. He tried to focus his attention to Dustin’s face, but his toothless grin was far from clear.

“You did good, buddy. So good. It’s not big enough for us to climb out, but it’s something.” Dustin smiled, showing his blurry missing teeth with pride. He grabbed at Steve’s arm to sit him upright, and Steve sat with a struggle. His head continued to swim with every move. “Look.”

Steve’s eyes focused as he squinted, making out the sight of swirling vines slithering around the gaping hole in the wall, spores circling the area above the kids heads with curiosity. Steve felt his brow furrow.

“Break the slime away!” Mike yelled as Joyce reassured Will with confidence that; “I will bring you home! I promise you, I’ll get you out of there!”

“Mum, it’s so dark here. And scary. I want to go back home.” Will sobbed, Mike holding him tighter.

“Break it!” Mike yelled over Will’s head. Lucas let go of Will, and Steve watched as Lucas neared the gate, and brought his hand up to the gate to break the barrier between them. Steve caught the spores heading in the same direction.

“No!” Steve yelled as Lucas dug his fingers into the slick sheet puncturing the sheet, and letting the spores flew through the hole, like they were being sucked out of the upside down and into the real world. Like a swarm.

As the swarm rushed through into the other world, the vines around the gate retreated with a defeaning scream. Steve felt his head start to ring, and followed the children in covering his ears at the ringing screams surrounding them. He watched as the vines around them pulled backwards at an alarm speed, sending Jane and Lucas toppling to the ground, landing directly onto the vines.

“What is that?!” Jonathan yelled from the inside, and Steve watched with wide eyes from his angle on the floor; inside the gate, in the real world, the four of them batted at the air, wiping over their faces frantically. Nancy started to cough, thumping at her own chest as the spore invaded her lungs. From inside, Steve could see the spores continually leaking into the real world. If they kept the gate open any longer…

Before Steve could comprehend the agonising stabbing pain in his legs, he stood before the gate stuck in the wall. Without thinking, the screams behind him from the children falling on deaf ears, he leaned closer, to stick his fingers through the small gap Lucas had made. He stretched the slime covered sheet between worlds before his entire arm with outside the upside down, sticking out into the real world.

Clenching his fingers, and pressing his shoulder in the wall, he let out a yell as the swarm of spores began flying past him, back into the upside down. With lightning speed, Steve gathered the swarm and pulled it back into the world it had been created. It flew past his shoulder, his face, with alarming speed; Steve made sure to hold his breath as the spores shot past, less he breath anymore directly into his lungs.

Once the screaming had died down past the gate, Steve pulled his arm back out, and peered through the gap.

“I have to close it!” He yelled breathlessly, not giving the other four a chance to comprehend what Steve had done. They had no time to dwell. He inhaled deeper, desperate for each breath as his chest ached, his muscles protested, his vision started to blur. He felt sick.

He could feel blood trickling down his nose. He was so, so tired.

“Kid,” Hopper came forward, his nose near inches from Steve’s own. He felt his body sag at the sight of an adult he could finally trust. Hopper, who had taken him in, looked after him all this time. All he wanted was to be back in the cabin again, he wanted Hopper to look out for him. Steve didn’t know how long he could stay strong for the children…

“We’ll find another way to make a gate. Look after the kids, and yourself. Stay in the house. Don’t let anyone leave this house-“ As Hopper instructed him with a terse voice and pointed finger, the rip between two worlds started to knit back together. Steve felt his body sag further down the wall, his dirtied hand coming up to steady himself against the wet cold. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. Keep hiding! Don’t leave each others side! And stay safe-“

Before Hopper could finish, the gate closed between them.

Steve felt his vision turn black, and his body hit the ground.

——

…

…

…

“STEVE?!”

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…?
——

Nancy say in the back of Hopper’s truck, her hand gripping Jonathan’s as he stared out the window. Nancy refrained from pulling her sleeve over her thumb, and wiping away the tear trickling down Jonathan’s face. As the sky turned darker, Hopper appeared out the front door. Nancy watched from her seat as he stomped towards the car, slamming the drivers side door as he groaned into his hands against the steering wheel.

“Is Joyce not coming?” Nancy asked with a tense voice, making Jonathan snap his head towards the empty passenger seat.

“I’m taking you home. Jonathan can sleep at yours tonight. Don’t breathe a word of this to your parents.” Hopper decided for them, started the car and putting it into gear to drive away as quickly as possible.

Nancy blinked, and balked. “What?” Have stared daggers into the back of Hopper’s head. He turned the lights on low in the front of the truck. “That’s it then?”

“For now.” Hopper replied with a deep breath, his shoulders tensed as his voice was. “Not a word.”

“What’s my mom doing?” Jonathan perked up from where he stared out the back window, watching his home retreat. “I-I need to be with her.”

“Your mom needs some time. You’ll stay at Nancy’s and you won’t do anything until I come pick you both up.” Hopper snapped his head around to them. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Neither teen argued nor agreed to his request.

The car journey was silent, neither said a word until Hopper did the talking to explain why Nancy and Jonathan were having an impromptu sleepover on a school night to Karen Wheeler. At her asking if she knew where Mike was, Hopper only explained that all the children were at the cabin, also having a sleepover with Jane. Although she seemed perplexed, Karen agreed to it all and ushered Jonathan and Nancy upstairs to bed.

It wasn’t until a bedroll had been laid on the ground for Jonathan to sleep on, that Nancy finally broke the silence.

“Would you come with me to Tony Hagen’s back garden tomorrow morning?” She asked cryptically, although Jonathan understood. She watched his head peer up over the end of the bed.

“Where Barb went missing?” He asked, and Nancy pat the side of the bed beside her for Jonathan to join her. She leant over her bedside table and flicked a low lamp on. A pink hue cast over their terrified faces.

“There has to be clues.” Nancy spoke once Jonathan sat before her. “Maybe we could find a way to help Steve make another gate, or a way to keep it open. Maybe we can help the distraction.”

Jonathan nodded. “I’ll come with you. I could take-…” Je trailed off. Photos. Jonathan had busted his camera into pieces.

Nancy didn’t think before she held his cold hand in her own, her thumb running against his boney knuckles.

“I have a camera you can borrow.” She smiled, but she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tomorrow morning.” She repeated, locking her pinkie finger around Jonathan’s.

A smile flew to his lips, and a breathless chuckle escaped him. His finger gripped hers. “Tomorrow morning.”

They smiled for a moment, gazing into each others eyes. Jonathan was the first to pull away, making haste to get back to his bed on the floor. Nancy’s chest felt hallow.

“Will you stay here?” She asked, and Jonathan understood wordlessly.

They slept on each side of the bed, facing away from each other throughout the night.

Tomorrow. They’d find clues, and get their brothers and their friends back home.