Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When you were younger, October meant gloomy days, earlier nights, and an end to the freedom of the hot summer days that bled into each other and seemed to march on forever. It signalled school and homework and less time spent swimming in your friend’s pool or sitting in the arcade from dawn ‘til dusk. Now, though, you relished the crisp, clean air of fall, how it felt biting your cheeks as you pedalled faster and sailed down the road. The heat of summer had become stifling since you moved back to Hawkins two years ago.

You had argued with your dad, which wasn’t really anything new, but you’d said some things you regretted this time. You often feel that you’re both too prideful and stubborn to have an argument that ever actually resolves something. This particular issue had been brewing for a while now, though; it had been simmering inside you in the way that you knew was obvious to him but which he would never ask about, if he even knew how. So it came to a boiling point a few hours earlier when he told you that he’d be away this evening on police business, something about pumpkins, but that he’d be home later. “That’ll be a first,” you’d muttered under your breath.

You understood why he needed to be at the cabin so much. And you were frankly surprised that he’d even told you about El in the first place given his fiercely overprotective need to protect both you and her, though given that you went face-to-face with a demogorgon at the Byers’ house last year and his disappearances were becoming more and more suspicious, he had finally given in and sworn you to secrecy about the cabin’s new occupant. So you understood why he was so often away from the trailer, but it was getting increasingly harder to ignore the childish way it hurt.

You couldn’t help but be reminded of the way he’d withdrawn from you and your mom when Sara was ill, or when he’d completely disappeared into himself (and bottles of whiskey or beer) after her death. The way he hadn’t tried to fight for you after your mom told him that you both were leaving for Indianapolis, or the way you would only hear from him once a year on your birthday when he remembered. And again, you’d understood. But it was hard not to feel like he didn’t want you in his life, that you were a constant reminder of Sara or his failed marriage - but you just wanted a father.

So when he had started spending so much time and effort trying to be a father for El, you couldn’t deny that it hurt. He was clearly not in a mood to let your muttered comment slide tonight, though, and you had both ended up loudly arguing over his apparent lack of desire to be your parent and, as he’d called it, your childish selfishness and need to grow up. His lack of self-awareness had really incensed you by then, and so before you stormed out of the trailer, you had asked him: “Who are you going to pawn El off on when you eventually fuck up with her like you did with me and Sara?”

It was the look on his face at the mention of Sara, whose name had barely been mentioned between the two of you in the two years you had been back in Hawkins, that filled you with a hot curl of shame and regret. But, prideful, you had slammed the door and picked up your bike, intent on cycling anywhere far, far away from your dad and his trailer. After only a few minutes of furious pedalling, tears had started to run hot down your cheek, and you stopped your bike on the side of the road to crouch down and sob into your hands. You were sure you’d look mad to anyone that might drive by, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You cried until your head pounded and you didn’t think you could cry any more. It was dark and cold, you realised, and you hadn’t grabbed a jacket in your haste to leave, wearing only the denim skirt and wool sweater you’d worn at school today. You couldn’t bring yourself to cycle back home, though, even if your dad had likely already left to take care of whatever police business he’d mentioned. No, you needed to be somewhere where you could stop thinking, even for a little while.

As you stared at the inky black sky and considered your next move, a flashy car sped past you, the girlish giggles and loud music sounding from it indicating that they hadn’t even given your presence on the side of the road a second glance. You were pretty certain where they were going, and although you’d been steadfastly not invited when flyers were handed out at school earlier, you picked up your bike and cycled off in the direction of Hawkins’ more affluent suburbs. Being surrounded by your classmates wasn’t at the top of your list of favourite ways to spend your time, but Tina’s Halloween party meant, at the very least, enough free booze and loud enough music to clear your head.

Tina had been a friend of yours before you moved to Indianapolis. You weren’t close, really, just two girls in the same circle of friends that were pulled together by the happenstance of being born in the same small town and attending the same small middle school. After Sara died, your friends didn’t really know what to say to you, too young to offer practiced commiserations and old enough to suddenly feel awkward in your presence because of that. Some of them had called you after your move to Indianapolis, for a while, but the phone calls eventually tapered off after a while, and it wasn’t long before you fell out of touch with them completely.

If they didn’t know what to say when you were twelve, though, they really didn’t know what to say when you moved back. When your mom had told you that she’d accepted a new job in Canada just before your junior year, you’d pled with her to stay; you had only recently settled into your new school after the tumult of leaving Hawkins, had only just started making real friends again. She and your stepdad had already put an offer on a house, however, and had eventually conceded that if you didn’t want to leave Indiana, you could move back to Hawkins and live with your dad to see out your last two years of high school. This was not exactly the solution that you - or indeed your dad - had envisioned, but now, here you found yourself, cycling down roads you were surprised to still remembered to Tina’s Halloween party.

-

Even from around the bend, the party was loud. It had spilled out onto the front lawn, where a group of guys were cheering as they eased down Billy Hargrove from a keg stand. The new boy hadn’t even given you a passing glance since he’d arrived in Hawkins, but even his presence made you uneasy. He would stalk the halls of your school, glowering and leering in a way that clearly some girls found a thrill in, but he had an air about him - a look in his eyes sometimes - that reminded you of those few, taut moments in the Byers’ house last year as you readied your dad’s shotgun and waited for a monster to crash through the door.

You dropped your bike on the lawn and followed behind the group as they moved back into the house. Despite the open door letting in a shock of cold, the air inside the house was thick and hot. You moved yourself into the press of bodies as the bass thrummed loudly, pushing past vampires and zombies and glittered bodies as you searched for a punch bowl or ice box of beer. Spying some unopened and seemingly not-too-warm bottles on the kitchen counter, you made your way over, only narrowly avoiding colliding with Tommy Hagan and Billy as they cut in front of you. You followed their gaze to find Steve and Nancy in matching outfits, propped against a wall together as Billy, chest and jacket still wet with beer, approached them.

“We got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington,” Tommy jibed as Billy stared Steve down, the group of boys trailing behind them throwing out similarly snide comments.

Any other day you likely would’ve rolled your eyes and minded your business, but you didn’t really have it in you tonight to care, and the especially pathetic way Tommy was attaching himself to Hawkins High’s new ‘king’ - and the fact that they were talking about a keg stand of all things - had you shouldering past them on your way to the kitchen.

“God, do you guys hear yourselves?” you muttered as you walked past, just loud enough to make sure they heard. You didn’t spare Tommy or Billy a glance, but your gaze quickly met Steve’s, just for a fraction of a second, as you moved past.

“Who even invited you, Hopper?” Tommy called after you, desperate to get the last word in and, you supposed, impress Billy.

“Your dad,” you returned as you walked further into the kitchen, not bothering to look back at them, though you could feel Billy’s calculating gaze on you even without turning around. You quickly grabbed a couple of bottles before ducking out through the back door and into the garden, eager to create some space between you and the boys.

-

You passed a couple of hours outside, quietly people watching and listening to the muffled music as you sipped on your drinks. You had returned inside at one point to grab some punch after you’d finished the beers, but decided to return to the relative quiet of the garden after seeing just how busy it had become inside. Most of the people in the garden had filtered back inside by now, and you had seated yourself on the short diving board that hung over Tina’s swimming pool, legs dangling either side, enjoying the blue glow it cast over you as you sipped from the red solo cup.

As you sat, you realised you had an almost-empty pack of cigarettes and your lighter in your back pocket, and fished them out before they got much more crumpled, resting your cup on the diving board as you did so. The alcohol in your system was clearly working against your coordination, however, because as soon as you lifted your hip to pull out the cigarettes, your knee shifted just enough to send the cup and its mysteriously red contents toppling over the edge. Just as soon as it had fallen, however, you heard footsteps rushing towards you and saw a hand reaching out to grab the cup before it collided with the water. Startled, you turned to the side and met Steve Harrington’s deep brown eyes. He looked almost as surprised as you that he’d sprung into action so quickly, and he quickly set the cup back down and took a step back.

“Jesus, where did you come from?” you asked, not having noticed him again after shouldering past him earlier in the evening.

“You’re welcome,” he replied sarcastically, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and restlessly looking around the yard and scuffing his sneakers on the grass.

You took a moment to look at him as he had his head turned away from you, his sunglasses pushed into his artfully coiffed hair and his black clothes almost blending into the dark yard, though the side of his body angled towards you was lit up bright blue by the pool light.

“Risky Business,” you said to him, before you took a cigarette to your mouth and flicked at the lighter.

“What?” he asked, seemingly having been lost in his thoughts in the quiet moments you’d taken to observe him.

“Your outfit. And Nancy’s,” you added, before angling your head towards the sky and blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Right, yeah,” he replied, shaking his head of whatever thoughts had been preoccupying him. He still seemed uneasy though, so you held out your cigarettes and offered him one. He shook his head at first and returned to his brooding, but just after you turned away, he changed his mind and plucked yours straight from your mouth.

“Hey, what the hell?” you asked indignantly, but he was too busy taking the cigarette to his lips and deeply inhaling before sharply blowing the smoke back out from his nose.

“Payment for catching your drink,” he finally responded. The troubled look on his face hadn’t shifted, but there was a teasing edge to his voice. You rolled your eyes and huffed to stop yourself from granting him a smile, retrieving a new cigarette as you did so. “Why are you even at this party anyway? Don’t you hate everyone here?”

He was referring to the fact that your old friends had all but ignored your existence after moving back, seemingly having traded up in the town’s small social circle, but considering that almost the entire teenage population of Hawkins was here, it was a bit of an exaggeration. The way he asked it gave you the impression that he was growing tired of everyone inside as well.

“I don’t hate everyone here,” you replied, looking up at him as he stood over you, and you took a drag of your new cigarette. “Jonathan is here,” you teasingly added after an exhale, having seen the boy in passing as you retrieved some punch earlier.

That earned you a small quirk of his lips and a huff of a laugh. “Gee, thanks,” he replied, and this time you did smile.

You did like Steve, in a way. You certainly liked him more than you used to after the events of last year, when you both had stood alongside Jonathan and Nancy, completely out of your depths as you attempted to trap and kill an inter-dimensional monster in Jonathan’s living room. His social status had taken a serious hit in the following months, particularly after word had spread that he’d ditched Tommy and Carol and been beaten up by Jonathan Byers. You could count on one hand the number of interactions you’d had with him since then, but you often shared a glance and a small smile when you passed each other in the halls or accidentally caught his eye in class, an acknowledgment of your shared secret. It was more than he used to offer you before, which was usually a short huff of laughter at some unintelligent comment Tommy and Carol had uttered at you in passing.

Now, though, you sat on Tina’s diving board as he stood next to you in companionable silence, smoking your cigarettes down and listening to the singing and laughter that drifted out from the house. You snuck surreptitious glances at him as his mood shifted back and his gaze fixed on the pool, blaming the alcohol in your system for your desire to keep examining him. His brow was furrowed and his mouth twisted, and as his head dipped slightly, strands of his hair fell over his face, broken free from whatever hair product he used after an hour of dancing at a sweaty house party.

“I should head out,” he said after a few minutes, stubbing out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe. You were surprised that he was leaving while the party was in full swing, but something had clearly upset him in the couple of hours since you saw him last.

“Thanks for…” he trailed off, waving the cigarette stub around. You nodded and gave him a small smile before he walked away, heading for the garden gate that led to the street rather than going back through the house. You watched his back as he left, and figured you should probably call it a night as well before you drank too much to cycle home without toppling over. Your plan had worked, at least; you weren’t thinking about your dad or Eleven any more, and at least there’d be no one at home to scold you for coming home late and tipsy. As you picked up your bike and headed back to your dad’s trailer, though, you couldn’t help but feel an uneasiness settle within you, a new anxiety that often took root in you on dark nights ever since the events of last year.

Chapter Text

You hadn’t seen your dad in four days. The last time you saw him was on Halloween night, when you’d said some things to him in the heat of an argument that you regretted as soon as they left your lips. That was on Wednesday, and now it was Sunday. You’d done your best to avoid him on Thursday, not sure how to broach a reconciliation quite yet, so you’d left early for school and returned home late after wasting as much time downtown as you could. You remembered hearing heavy footsteps and the closing of the trailer door on Thursday night, so you knew that he’d been at home at some point that day, but there hadn’t been any sign of him since then. A load of his laundry remained in the washing machine and a muddy pair of boots lay discarded next to the couch, and the rashers of bacon he’d bought earlier in the week still sat untouched in the fridge. That sense of uneasiness you’d felt crawling up your spine as you cycled home late at night on Halloween was growing.

On the weekends you worked at The Hawk, handing out tickets to your classmates and sweeping up sticky sweet popcorn spilled by groups of middle schoolers. You had felt restless throughout your shift on Saturday, and after the evening passed with no sign of your dad, you called in sick on Sunday morning and set off on your bike downtown. You visited the police station first, where Flo told you that he hadn’t come into the station on Friday, nor had anyone seen him over the weekend.

“I’m sure he’s fine, sweetheart,” she assured you with a pitying smile. “You know how he is.” What she meant was that he was likely sleeping off a hangover somewhere, which was historically the case when he was late into work. That hadn’t been true for a while now though, and you felt a need to defend him.

“No, he’s… it’s not that,” you replied. “He’s getting better at that. I’m worried something’s happened to him.”

Flo gave you another smile at that and asked if you wanted to take a seat while she put a pot of coffee on, but you knew you wouldn’t find any more answers here. He hadn’t left any information about where he might be before he disappeared, which only worsened the sickly feeling in the pit of your stomach. With a shake of your head and a tight smile, you left the station and headed for the next stop on your list that you hoped held answers as to his whereabouts.

You hadn’t visited the cabin in years, not since you were a kid when your parents, unable to afford skiing trips or beach holidays like your friends’ families, would take you and Sara out into the woods for a few days of fresh air and outdoor activities that you apparently sorely needed. You remembered it being cold and drafty, even during the summer, and the blankets on your bed too scratchy and synthetic. As you approached it through the trees now though, your lasting memories of those trips were instead of the hot dogs you had grilled outside on a warm summer evening, batting bugs from your face and layering a thick helping of mustard on top as Sara pulled a face, or the records that your dad would pull out to play so that you could all dance around the cabin together. Lost in your memories as you made your way through the trees, all of a sudden you were tripping forwards and a loud, cracking gunshot echoed through the woods.

Panic seized you and you froze where you lay on the ground, eyes scanning around you as you searched for the source of the sound. Not sensing anyone or hearing any movement, you shifted your body and prepared to run towards the cabin, only for your foot to catch on something when you attempted to move. Looking back, you saw that what you had tripped over was a wire suspended between two trees, and you realised that the gunshot had actually been your activation of a tripwire trap that your dad had likely set up to warn El of any intruders. You let out a sharp breath and took a moment to sit, hand to your head as you let your heart rate return to normal.

Although your dad had told you about El staying at the cabin, you hadn’t visited with him. When he had sworn you to secrecy about her, he’d also reinforced that anyone with any involvement in the events of last year was now very likely being surveilled. If you hadn’t gone face-to-face with a demogorgon last year, you would have dismissed that as paranoid nonsense, but you were ready to believe just about anything these days. Your dad had asked you not to visit the cabin in case anyone followed you there, and also to keep you out of harm’s way if someone suspected that you might know of El’s whereabouts. But now he was missing, and as you stood and moved to approach the cabin, you noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Maybe they had got to him and El.

Gently pushing open the door, it was immediately obvious that someone had torn the cabin apart. Two windows were broken and the glass that scattered the floor crunched beneath your sneakers as you walked inside. The trapdoor to the basement stood open, and all around the room lay the boxes of old case files, family photographs, and Sara’s belongings that your parents never had the heart to get rid of. A couple had been opened, its contents - documents and photographs that you recognised as belonging to your dad’s investigation into Will’s disappearance - were strewn across the couch and coffee table. Pulse beginning to race again, you checked the few small rooms elsewhere in the cabin, but there was no sign of Eleven, and no sign of your dad.

-

You didn’t know exactly what your plan was, but you knew you needed to find help. If this was the work of government agents from the lab, then you weren’t going to be able to play hero and storm in guns blazing - at least not on your own. You reminded yourself to keep a level head as you cycled along the tree-lined road towards the Byers’ house to find Jonathan. You’d become friendly with him and Nancy since last year, and you knew that if anyone was going to be able to think up a way to infiltrate Hawkins Lab and - if needed - stage a rescue attempt, it would be them. You felt like you’d cycled almost a full lap of Hawkins by now, but as you noticed a familiar car parked on the side of the road up ahead, you pedalled faster to catch up with the two boys that were setting off into the woods curiously wearing bright yellow gloves and carrying metal buckets. They both turned as they heard you approach, looking startled to see you stood over your bike, panting, and likely looking as frazzled and wired as you felt.

“You… alright?” Dustin asked cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal.

“You guys haven’t seen my dad around recently, have you?” you asked, ignoring for the moment whatever it was that Steve Harrington was doing with Dustin Henderson and two buckets of what looked like raw meat. The two of them shook their heads, and you let out a soft curse under your breath. “I haven’t seen him since Halloween. I’ve been biking around town all day looking for him, no one’s seen him at the station, and our cabin was a mess and him and… he wasn’t there, so now I have to find a way to get into the lab -“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Steve interrupted as he waved his free hand at you, halting your rambling. “The lab? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know! It’s the only lead I have,” you said, almost whining, suddenly feeling very frustrated. You knew you were being vague, but you were reluctant to tell them anything about El’s involvement if this all turned out to be some wild goose chase and Flo was correct in her assumption that he was nursing a hangover somewhere. The boys looked at each other suspiciously, and all of a sudden you remembered the absurdity of the situation, buckets of meat and all.

“You don’t think it’s…”

“Your pet’s on a rampage and someone’s gone missing? It can’t be a coincidence.”

“He’s not my pet! And you don’t know that he’s rampaging!”

“Oh, sorry, you’re right, it ate your pet.”

“Guys!” You interjected, still no clearer as to what was going on, and they momentarily stopped their bickering. “What the hell are you talking about?”

They turned to look at each other again, seemingly debating whether or not to clue you in to their situation. After a moment, Steve sighed and looked up at you where you stood atop the bank above them.

“I think we might have a shared problem.”

-

Of all the outcomes of your search for your dad that you’d imagined, you didn’t think it’d lead you to walking along the town’s abandoned train tracks with Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson, dipping your gloved hand into a bucket of raw meat to lay a trap for a monster from the Upside Down. They’d explained to you - through much bickering - about ‘Dart’, Mews, and the tunnel. You thought back to the scene in the cabin, and while it didn’t look like Dart had been there - there wasn’t enough inter-dimensional gunk or bite marks - you couldn’t deny that it was probably not a coincidence for your dad to go missing around the same time. There was a connection there that you couldn’t figure out yet. So you’d agreed to help them lure Dart and lay a trap, hoping that maybe if your dad was in pursuit of the monster as well (you tried not to think about the alternative scenarios), you’d end up leading him to the junkyard too. As Dustin spoke about the past few days, though, it became clear that a lot of his motivation behind keeping Dart in his room was rooted in trying to impress a new girl at school.

“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t,” Steve said to the boy, “I… I just… I don’t know. I feel like you’re trying way too hard.” You squinted your eyes at him over Dustin’s head at this, but his gaze remained ahead while he focused on scattering meat along the tracks.

“Well not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin countered, seemingly feeling dejected that he’d made no headway with his crush.

“It’s not about the hair, man. The key with girls is just…” Steve glanced over at you briefly, appearing to consider whether to reveal his secrets in front of you. “Just acting like you don’t care.”

You couldn’t help the startled laugh that came out when you heard that. “You’re not serious.”

“What?” Steve asked defensively, but you could see that a part of him was expecting your reaction.

“You’re really telling Dustin to ignore girls so they’ll like him more?”

“Okay, I didn’t say ignore -“

You deliberately looked away from Steve and at Dustin, who walked in between the two of you. “Don’t listen to him. All that’s gonna do is make girls think you don’t like them and mess with their heads. They won’t want you to make a move if you don’t show any interest.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said indignantly. “Have you ever actually had a boyfriend?”

Your mouth hung open in offence for a few seconds, and you wondered if that was something Steve actually somehow knew about you, or if he’d just guessed. “That’s not… we’re talking about girls, not boys,” you returned, but the question had clearly flustered you.

Steve seemed to have won over Dustin with that argument; the boy’s head had been whipping side to side like he’d been watching a tennis match, but he now looked at you unconvinced before turning back to Steve.

“Just trust me, dude, it drives them nuts,” Steve said smugly. You rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“Okay, but then what?” Dustin asked, looking like he was taking mental notes.

“Then you just wait until, you know… until you feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know?” Steve explained. “You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh… electricity, you know?” You felt a squirming in your stomach as Steve spoke, and you suddenly felt nervous in his presence. Hearing him break down the way attraction feels to Dustin felt intimate, like you were accessing a secret part of him. You wondered how he looked when he felt that tension, how his voice sounded, if you would be able to feel that electricity in his touch. You had always found Steve attractive, but only in that abstract way like how you knew Tom Cruise or Harrison Ford was hot. He was attractive but inaccessible, not worth thinking too much about - but now, you supposed, you were thinking about him.

“So that’s when you kiss her?” Dustin asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“No, whoa, whoa,” Steve replied. “Slow down, Romeo. Sure, some girls, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a… I don’t know, like a lion.”

You couldn’t help your laughter again, and almost brought a hand to your mouth the way it burst out of you, before you remembered that you were wearing a glove that had been deep in a bucket of raw meat. You were thankful that Steve had just said something else ridiculous, because too much longer thinking about how soft his hair looked or how big his hands were and you were worried you’d forget how to speak around him.

“Hey, peanut gallery,” Steve said as he turned to you, frustrated at another interruption. You guiltily smiled at him and apologised, before telling him to keep going and that you promise not to interrupt his teaching again. He huffed and shook some hair out of his face, but you caught a glimpse of a half smile before he turned his face away from you.

“Anyway, other girls, you’ve gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy,” he continued, Dustin still rapt. “Like a… like a ninja.”

Dustin hummed, processing this information. “What about you?” he asked, and it took you a second to realise that he was speaking to you and not Steve.

“Huh?”

“You know, what type are you?” Dustin asked curiously. “Seeing as you’re the only girl here.” Steve had busied himself with throwing more meat down onto the tracks, but he glanced over at you to see your reaction.

“I mean, I… I’ve never thought about it like that, exactly,” you answered, feeling unprepared for the question. You didn’t know exactly how to answer, but you figured this was your chance to redirect Dustin from whatever womanizing road Steve was about to send him down. “But I guess… well, I like the build-up, when there’s the tension, like Steve said. When, you know, you can’t stop looking at each other across the room at a party. Or like, your leg presses up against theirs when you’re sat next to each other even though there’s space to sit apart.

“And well, um,” you swallowed, aware that you were rambling a bit now, and you were eager to get to the point of Dustin’s question. You glanced at Steve quickly over Dustin’s head and caught his eye before you both quickly looked away. “I guess I don’t have much experience of the next part, but I like when a guy is, you know… honest with me, if he likes me. It’s attractive. Otherwise you go crazy wondering if he feels the same.”

Dustin quietly considered your words for a moment, but then: “So… Steve was right? It does make girls go nuts?”

You let out an angry huff as Steve laughed. “I mean, yes, I guess so,” you replied, grabbing a new handful of meat to disperse. “But not in a good way! If you’re not careful you’ll just put her off and then when you try to make a move she’ll say no. That’s all I meant.”

Dustin hummed again and looked contemplative as he mulled over all the advice that you and Steve had given him. The three of you walked in silence for a few minutes more before Steve spoke again. “Hey, you’re not… you know, falling in love with this girl, are you?”

Dustin looked startled at Steve’s question and quickly denied it, stammering over his words slightly. “Okay, good, don’t,” Steve replied. “She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit.”

You looked at Steve and frowned at his words, but he was steadfastly looking down at the train tracks as he walked. You wanted to argue with his sentiment, try to convince Dustin that Steve was just being pessimistic, but his comment and the tone of his voice made you think that he wouldn’t be receptive to any teasing bickering on that topic. You wondered if it was related to whatever had upset him on Halloween when he was so sullen and had left the party on his own, and figured by his words that he must have argued with Nancy. It made you feel slightly guilty about your thoughts earlier; here he was upset about a fight with his girlfriend and you were trying to stop yourself from staring when his Adam’s apple bobbed. You weren’t far from the junkyard now though, so you carried on walking in silence, and your mind drifted back to your dad and when you might next see him.

-

Not long after you reached the junkyard, Lucas and a girl you hadn’t seen before - Max, you learnt - arrived together. After Dustin and Lucas returned from their secret meeting behind the shell of an old car, the five of you worked together to gather sheets of metal, planks of wood, and any other useful-looking material to reinforce an old school bus that you planned to hide in from Dart before launching an attack with gasoline and Steve’s lighter. The sun seemed to be setting rapidly as you worked, and you couldn’t help but compare your situation to what happened at the Byers’ last year; Steve still had his nail bat but otherwise you were significantly underarmed, and this time you were accompanied by three kids who, whether they agreed or not, needed protecting. At least there was only one demogorgon on its way, you thought, and a not-yet-fully-grown one at that.

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, you, Steve, and the kids hid yourself away in the bus and waited. Lucas had come equipped with binoculars, so he’d climbed the ladder up to the roof and set up there, letting you all know he’d alert you as soon as he saw something coming. You stayed below, sat on the metal floor of the bus next to Steve. It was even colder now that it was dark and you were surrounded on all sides by cold metal, so you drew your legs up to your chest and tried to warm your hands between them. You closed your eyes and rested your head against your knees, trying to ignore the repeated flick flick flick as Steve played with his lighter to pass the time, opening and closing the lid back and forth.

“So… you really fought one of these things before?” Max asked the two of you, and you turned your head to the side to nod at her. She hadn’t spoken to you much since you all arrived, but you got the sense that she was mostly here to humor Dustin and Lucas. You understood her skepticism; when you’d discovered your Dad tearing apart the trailer last year looking for government bugs you’d been about ready to get him psychiatric help, and it wasn’t until you came face-to-face with the screeching face of a demogorgon that you truly believed what everyone else had been warning you about. “And you’re like, totally 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay?” Dustin interjected, sullenly. You were taken aback at how upset he sounded, and frankly how mean his comment was, not used to hearing the normally happy and goofy boy speak like that. “It wasn’t a bear. Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.”

Max seemed similarly startled for a moment, before affecting an unbothered look and moving to join Lucas on the roof of the bus. “Sheesh, someone’s cranky,” she said to Dustin as she passed. “Past your bedtime?”

“That’s good,” Steve encouraged when Max was out of earshot. “Just show her you don’t care.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Dustin said, unconvincingly, to Steve.

“Dustin pissed her off and you consider that a win?” you asked Steve, gesturing to where Max was now sitting on the roof with Lucas. You would hardly call it successful if Dustin had driven her into another boy’s arms.

“Hey, you’ve just gotta trust the process,” Steve said with a smug smile, winking at Dustin who was growing more and more annoyed, and you pulled a face.

“Why are you winking, Steve?” the boy asked, and Steve winked again. “Stop.”

“And what happens now, huh? Max is up there with Lucas now.”

“Look, just remember who the one with the track record is here, okay? Dustin’s got it in the bag.”

“Womanizing isn’t exactly something to brag about, you know.”

“It’s not womanizing to just… understand what gets girls going -”

“Ugh, you’re so gross -“

“Oh my god,” Dustin loudly interjected, reminding you of his presence. “Would the two of you shut up?”

You turned your head to look at him and saw how truly upset and nervous he seemed about the situation, Dart and all, and both you and Steve sheepishly muttered apologies. You all sat in silence for a few moments longer before you heard another flick and saw Steve was playing with his lighter again.

“Would you stop?” you asked, reaching out and closing the lid, inadvertently covering his hand with yours as you do so. His hand was warm, a contrast to the cold of yours, and you quickly brought your hand back as you both shared a short, surprised look. Your cheeks flushed with heat and you stood up to avoid his gaze, busying yourself with looking out of a gap in the metal panelling to keep an eye out for Dart. It was pitch black by now, but an eerie mist had rolled in that shrouded some of the corners of the junkyard in even more obscurity. There was a slight breeze outside that was gently shifting the tree branches, but you caught a slight movement behind an old motorcycle that you swore wasn’t just the wind or a trick of the light.

“Hey, guys,” you said cautiously, careful not to draw the attention of whatever was outside. “I think I just saw -“

SCREEEEECH!

You gasped loudly and instinctively moved back from the window, only for your back to collide with Dustin and Steve as they rushed to see where the noise had come from. The three of you peered out of the small gap but you’d lost track of the creature outside, and its scream had been so loud it had sounded like it was coming from all directions.

“It was just over there, I swear,” you said as you pointed to the motorcycle.

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Dustin called up to the roof.

“Hold on!” the boy shouted back. Your heart was pounding and you desperately scanned the area, but Dart seemed to have slunk back into the dark, until Lucas alerted you all to his position. The demogorgon, much smaller than the one you had seen last year and walking on all fours like a dog, slowly paced towards you out of the mist. Your breath caught in your throat, but as you watched, it didn’t seem to be doing much other than tracking back and forth, not following the trail of food into the trap you had laid.

“What’s he doing?” Dustin whispered, and you and Steve shook your heads, at a loss now that the plan was falling apart.

“He’s not taking the bait,” Steve muttered, confused. “Why is he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry?” Dustin asked.

Steve paused, thinking. “Maybe he’s sick of cow.”

After a beat, he stood up from the window, and moved to grab his baseball bat from the other side of the bus.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” you asked, worried that he was about to do something heroic and stupid.

He took a slow breath and frowned, looking as though he was trying not to talk himself out of whatever he was about to do. He fished out his lighter again and threw it to you, and you caught it in two hands as your mouth dropped slightly. “Just get ready,” he said, and left the bus.

“Steve, what the fuck,” you whisper-shouted as you followed him to the door, trying not to draw Dart’s attention to him. “Get back in the bus!”

Steve didn’t turn around, instead gripping his bat tighter and creeping closer to the pile of meat in the centre of the junkyard. You cursed under your breath and returned to Dustin and Max, who had just joined the boy at the window.

“What’s he doing?” Max asked as you heard Steve begin to whistle and taunt the monster, swinging his bat around in preparation of a fight. He crept closer and closer to Dart, who seemed to take interest now that there was a living, breathing human offering himself up. It was like a lion in a zoo, you thought. It needed a chase.

“Expanding the menu,” Dustin replied. You watched as Steve readied himself for Dart to approach, and before you could think too much about what you were doing, you were running to the door of the bus, careful to keep your steps as light as possible to avoid making too much sound. You could hear Dustin and Max protesting behind you, but you knew that Steve needed someone to watch his back, at the very least. As you left, you threw Dustin the lighter that Steve had passed to you, and grabbed a trashcan lid lying on the ground, wielding it like a shield in front of you. You didn’t know exactly what you were going to do with it if Dart came near - your dad had shown you how to use a gun, but you’d never used any other weapons in small town Indiana - but you figured instinct and adrenaline would carry you far enough.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you whispered under your breath as you jogged closer to Steve. He glanced back at you quickly as he heard you approach, before whipping his head back to keep an eye on Dart.

“What are you doing?” he whispered harshly to you without turning around.

“Having your back,” you returned. You gripped the lid tighter and held it higher in front of you, watching as Dart slowly paced closer and closer. Even though you were trying to lure it into a trap, it felt like the monster was toying with you - playing with its food.

All of a sudden, you heard Lucas shout from the bus behind you. “Guys, watch out!”

“Little busy here!” Steve yelled back. You turned to scan the area while he kept his gaze trained on Dart and saw four more demogorgons, the same size and dog-like stance to them as Dart, approaching over the cars to your right like a pack of wolves circling its prey.

“Shit, Steve,” you said, hitting his arm to get his attention. “To the right, more of them!”

“Guys, abort! Abort!” Dustin yelled from behind you, just as Dart opened its mouth and loudly snarled at the two of you, drawing your attention back. It readied itself before lunging at you, and Steve pushed you out from its path before rolling out of its way over the hood of a car, joining you on the other side. Another one raced up in front of you both and you quickly held up your makeshift shield and pushed as it threw itself at you with a thud, heavy enough to set you off balance, Steve following up with a swing of his bat as it came in for another attack.

As it went flying into the rest of the pack, you looked at Steve and nodded your head towards the bus. “Quick, back to the bus,” you said, breathless, to make sure he was with you.

“Right behind you,” he said, and you both sprinted towards the doors of the bus as the monsters were picking themselves back up. You didn’t think you’d ever run this fast, the adrenaline pushing you to move faster as you heard the snarling of the demogorgons behind you. Dustin was holding the door open and quickly moved out of the way to make room as you leapt through the door. You held the door open for Steve as he rushed through, ready to close it tightly shut once he was safely inside, but maybe you were just the slightest bit too slow, or the demogorgon was just the tiniest bit too fast.

Before you knew it, you felt a shocking, blinding pain in your side, just below your ribs. You heard the kids’ screams before you saw it - a demogorgon, black and slick, with its teeth sunk into your flesh through your jacket. You screamed and panic took over your brain almost entirely. The pain and the shock overwhelmed you and you couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t figure out whether you should try to squirm away or pry its jaws off. Luckily Steve thought for you, delivering a hard kick to the monster before pushing you back further into the bus and sending it flying with a swing of his bat. He firmly shut the doors before turning around to where you had sat on the cold metal floor, hand to your wound as you winced and tried to catch your breath. The monsters pounded at the door but it held firm for the moment, thankfully, as four sets of panicked eyes were trained on you.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Steve asked, crouching down to your level. You expected him to examine your wound, but he made sure to hold your gaze as he spoke to you. He was panting heavily, his eyebrows drawn together, and his brown eyes looked almost black in the dark of the bus.

“Yeah, I’m -“ you were cut off by a sharp gasp as a shot of pain ran up from your wound, making what you were about to say much less convincing. “It’s just a scratch, I’m fine.”

Steve, despite the panic and adrenaline coursing through you both, managed to give you such a comedically unimpressed look at your response that you almost laughed. Max pushed past the two boys next to her and crouched down next to you, pulling your bloody hand away from your wound. “Here, let me see.”

You didn’t know why Max felt so confident about examining wounds, but she seemed to know what she was doing, so you let her lift up your layers of clothes to see the wound underneath. The bite thankfully looked not to be too deep; your decision this morning to layer a thick sweater and denim jacket over your shirt because of the cold weather prevented the demogorgon’s teeth from sinking in too far.

“Okay, it doesn’t look life-threatening,” Max began, “but we need to clean it and get it bandaged. Do you have a -“ She was cut off by the loud, screeching sound of metal tearing as three sharp claws dragged through the side of the bus just to the side of Lucas’ head. You all barely had a moment to react before the sound of glass smashing rang out from the doors, a flared, monstrous head sticking through. Steve sprung into action and wailed on the demogorgon’s head with his bat, but it seemed as though all of a sudden the pack of monsters had converged from every angle. Dustin was desperately trying to contact Mike and Will over his walkie and Lucas and Max were grabbing the few loose sheets of metal you had to press them up against the intrusions. Then, slowly, you heard three loud thumpsfrom above, and you had the sick realisation that no one had covered the open hole to the roof.

The demogorgon lingered over the gap for a taut moment, almost as if it was observing you all, before it opened its jaw and screeched. Max screamed from where she was stood at the bottom of the ladder, frozen in fear. Steve ran from his position by the door to push her out of the way, bat in hand as he shouted up at the monster. “You want some? Come and get it!”

He readied his bat as it lowered its head further into the bus, its long tongue extending out as it snarled in his face, defiant to his taunts. Strangely, however, it paused, and lifted its head back out as if hearing its name called, but you couldn’t hear anything else but the same snarling of the monsters around you. All of a sudden, the noises began to move away, and the bus shook with the force of the demogorgon above you jumping off and down to the ground. You wanted to ask the rest of the group what was going on, not able to see much from your position on the floor, but you were wary to break the silence in case it led the pack straight back. Another loud roar sounded from the distance, this time much further away.

Steve was the first to break the tension as he slowly crept towards the bus door, opening it with an accidental clank that had you flinching slightly. The group headed towards the door behind him, blocking your view of the junkyard outside. “What’s going on? Are they gone?” you asked hesitantly.

“They’re gone,” Steve replied, scanning the area.

“Think you scared them off?” Dustin asked.

“No. No way,” Steve answered, turning back around to face you all now that the coast was clear. “They’re going somewhere.”

Chapter Text

After witnessing the pack of demogorgons run off into Hawkins, you all decided to follow - at a safe distance - and try to contact Mike or Will, or anyone at all, on the way. While the boys were readying themselves to leave, Max helped to clean bandage your wound as best as you both could under the circumstances. Needing to get rid of your layers to turn your t-shirt into a makeshift bandage, she ordered the boys out of the bus and told them you’d be ready to leave afterwards. They complied, blushing and stammering, and went off to ready themselves to leave. Max retrieved a bottle of water from her backpack and washed out the wound until she was satisfied. You had to stifle a couple of cries as the water washed over the bite marks and tried to distract yourself by talking with the curious girl.

“So how’d you get so knowledgeable about wound care?” you asked as you helped her to rip your t-shirt at the seams.

“I skate a lot,” she said, eyes focused as she started to carefully wrap the fabric around your stomach. “Injuries come with the territory.”

“Man,” you said on a chuckle, though with a slight wince of pain at the movement. “I wish I was half as cool as you when I was your age. Or now.”

She flicked her eyes up at you warily as she tied off your bandage, and you got the impression that that may have been the wrong response - although you weren’t sure that there was a right response. “Sorry,” you offered, “I’m not trying to be patronizing. I just don’t know how you’re dealing with all this when I can barely get a handle on the situation. Not to mention those two boys out there are tripping over themselves to make idiots of themselves around you.”

She smiled at that and handed you back your sweater and jean jacket. “Them I can handle. I don’t know if I’m ‘dealing’ with any of the rest of this, though,” she said as she gestured around the bus. “Do you need help putting those back on?”

“I’ll be okay, thanks for this,” you said with a smile. Max nodded and picked up her backpack before heading outside. You managed to get your clothes back on with minimal pain, then headed out into the junkyard. The group had decided to walk back down the train tracks until you reached Steve’s car (and your bike, though you definitely weren’t in a state to cycle at the moment), which you’d then all pile into and follow the demogorgon pack. You weren’t entirely clear on what the plan was for when you found them again, but you couldn’t in good conscience let a herd of monsters loose on your town without at least trying to stop them.

You’d been walking for about twenty minutes now and had been trying to keep your winces of pain to a minimum. There wasn’t much you could do about it while a pack of inter-dimensional monsters was on the loose, so you were trying not to give Steve and the kids too much cause to worry. It seemed to work for Dustin, Lucas, and Max, who were walking slightly ahead of you, but Steve, who was keeping pace with you by your side, kept sending you concerned glances every now and then. You had pretended not to see most of them, but at the most recent look, you turned to look at him with an exasperated smile.

“Steve,” you said. “I’m fine, I swear. When this is over with I’ll get some stitches and get lots of bed rest, I promise.”

It was dark, so you couldn’t really tell, but you thought you saw his cheeks tinge red at being caught. “Alright, sorry for being concerned about your alien monster bite,” he replied, deflecting.

“You’re forgiven,” you teased, and he huffed a short laugh. You liked hearing that sound, and you liked making him laugh, so you smiled to yourself in return.

Up ahead, you caught wind of the kids’ conversation; Dustin was explaining that it was definitely Dart at the junkyard because of the yellow pattern on his back, and that he’d steadily been growing bigger and bigger since Halloween.

“He’s gotta molt again soon,” he explained. “When he does, he’ll be fully grown, or close to it. And so will his friends.”

“Yeah, and he’s gonna eat a lot more than just cats,” Steve muttered.

“Wait, a cat?” Lucas asked, and Dustin shot a look at Steve as everyone came to a stop along the tracks. “Dart ate a cat?”

Dustin stammered a very unconvincing reply before Steve, unhelpfully, interjected. “What are you talking about? He ate Mews.”

You gave him a gentle whack on his arm, and when he looked at you in confused offense, you gestured to the desperate look on Dustin’s face as he was being caught in a lie by Lucas. This was Dustin’s fault for keeping a demogorgon as pet, really, but Steve didn’t need to (unintentionally) pile on.

“Mews?” Max asked, lost. “Who’s Mews?”

“It’s Dustin’s cat,” you and Steve said together, Steve with some confusion at the entire situation, and you in defeat. She might as well know as well if Lucas was finally finding out.

“You too?” Dustin asked you, betrayed. You gave an apologetic half-shrug.

As the boys devolved into arguing, you tilted your head back and sighed in frustration. You didn’t have time for this. The longer they all stood here arguing, the further away the pack of demogorgons got. You decided to give them a minute to see if they’d resolve the argument themselves, though that felt unlikely. Just as Dustin shone his flashlight in Max’s face and she got involved, you heard a familiar screeching in the distance, beyond the trees. You locked eyes with Steve and shared the concerned look on his face, following behind as he stepped towards the distant sound. The kids hadn’t noticed either the sound or your movement, still locked in their bickering, and didn’t respond when Steve tried to call their attention over.

“Guys!” you shouted, louder. The trio whipped their heads around at your voice, and not a moment later, more screeching sounded out from beyond the trees. You and Steve moved further on, Lucas and Dustin behind you, and Max trailing reluctantly. You soon came to the edge of the forest and were stood atop a vantage point that gave you a view over Hawkins. As the demogorgons howled again, Lucas took out his binoculars and followed the direction of the sound. He lowered them after a moment, a wary look on his face.

“It’s the lab. They were going back home.”

-

You had to be careful as you made your way down the hill and through the woods in the direction of the lab, not wanting to aggravate your wound given the makeshift bandage wrapped around your midsection. It was starting to ache more though, and you were beginning to think you were going to overexert yourself soon. You knew that stopping now wouldn’t do any good though, so you grit your teeth, slowly let out a breath through your nose, and kept walking. As you were approaching the edge of the forest, a road came into view, followed by a car, a small security booth, and two figures slowly walking towards you. You couldn’t make them out at this distance, but as they called out to you, you noted with some relief that you recognized their voices.

“Steve?” they asked in unison with some shock as you all walked out from the trees.

“Nancy?” Steve seemed to be similarly surprised to see his girlfriend and Jonathan Byers parked outside the lab, but you gave them a weak wave and a smile as you and the kids walked to meet them.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked, looking at Steve, before glancing at you.

“What are you doing here?” he responded before you could say anything, and you felt a bit awkward, as though you were interrupting something. Realistically you knew that Nancy didn’t know all the things you were thinking about her boyfriend earlier, but you felt like it was written all over your face.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will,” she said, and you started to suspect that maybe you knew where your dad was after all.

“Are they in the lab?” you asked warily.

“Why?” Jonathan asked, picking up on the trepidation in your voice.

You opened your mouth to respond, but you were interrupted by another screeching coming from the lab to your right, and as you turned to look, the lights in the building’s windows dimly flickered on and off. The demogorgons were definitely inside.

“We need to get inside,” you said, turning back to Nancy and Jonathan.

“We’ve already tried to get the gate open,” Nancy replied, “but it’s locked. We think the power’s off.”

“Okay, so… what, we climb over the fence?” Steve asked. Maybe he didn’t see the barbed wire at the top of the fence, or maybe he really thought he could navigate through it

“You’re not helping,” Dustin snarked.

“Alright, what’s your suggestion then?” Steve shot back. “How else do we get in?”

The two descended into bickering as Lucas began to question Jonathan on how much he knew about Will and Mike’s whereabouts. You noticed Nancy looking on at Steve and Dustin in confusion, likely wondering how it came to be that her boyfriend was currently arguing over the logistics of scaling the fence of Hawkins Lab with her little brother’s best friend.

“They’ve been like this all day,” you said to her, and she looked at you curiously for a moment. You realized then that she had no idea that you were with Steve all day, and she was likely trying to figure out when the two of you went from casual acquaintances to chasing demogorgons together, though you weren’t entirely sure either. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a flash of light behind you made you both turn around. You watched as the windows of the lab lit up, no longer dimly flickering.

“The power’s back,” Nancy called to the rest of the group, and they quickly followed Jonathan as he ran back to the security booth. You couldn’t match their pace so you hung back and slowly walked behind them, Steve noticing and accompanying you instead of running with the rest of the group. It didn’t matter how slow you were though, because no matter how many times Jonathan hit the red ‘open’ button in the booth, nothing happened.

Dustin barged in and told Jonathan to let him try, and you rolled your eyes at his antics. No wonder him and Steve had been bickering all day, they were just as bad as each other. Of course, the gate didn’t responded to Dustin’s attempts any more than Jonathan’s, and for a moment the older boy looked vindicated.

“Son of a bitch,” Dustin cursed, slamming the red button over and over again. Miraculously, the gate opened on his second attempt, and the boy looked beyond pleased with himself, though everyone was too focused on getting to the lab to congratulate him.

“Alright, we’ll drive up to the lab and scope it out,” Nancy said, climbing into the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “You guys wait here.”

You can tell Steve and the kids wanted to make their case to come with the two of them, but there was only so much room in Jonathan’s car to bring back Will, Mike, and whoever else was in the lab. Dustin passed Nancy his walkie so that they could keep in touch, and they sped off towards the lab. Finally given some time to rest, you gently lowered yourself to the floor of the security booth to sit for a few minutes, a small wince on your face as your wound complained with the movement. The next few minutes felt like an eternity as you waited to hear from Nancy, the rest of the group fidgeting and pacing in anticipation. You didn’t have to wait long though, because only five minutes later, Jonathan’s car came speeding back around the corner and straight through the gates. You realized that they were being followed by a second car, and for a moment you thought they were being chased out of the lab, but as it came closer you recognized, with immense relief, the Hawkins Police van.

It screeched to a stop in front of you, and then the passenger door was flinging open to reveal your dad. He was wearing hospital scrubs but otherwise looked healthy and uninjured, and your heart clenched with emotion. Your anxious mind had taken you to a thousand different places over the last couple of days, but here he was, ushering Steve and the kids into the van. As they filtered in to finally reveal you, last one stood on the tarmac, his face slackened with surprise.

“Dad,” you almost sobbed in relief as you climbed into the van. You felt like a little girl lost in the supermarket, the kind of relief and comfort flooding you that only seeing your dad again can bring.

“Jesus, are you okay?” He wrapped an arm around you to bring you close and you nodded into his shoulder. He must have remembered then the urgency of getting away from the lab and whatever monsters were likely still inside, because he slipped his arm back and urged the van to speed off down the road. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Where the hell have you been?” you asked. “I haven’t seen you in days!”

He looked over at you in the passenger seat briefly, working his mouth as he tried to come up with an explanation for what you assumed was a long-winded and scientifically complex few days. “Long story, kid,” he eventually decided. “I’ll explain when we’re at the Byers’.”

You nodded and leant your head back on the seat. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He turned his head to you for a few moments, giving you a tight smile that you could tell was holding back emotion, before turning back to the road. “Me too,” he said.

You were suddenly aware that Steve and the kids in the back of the van were the quietest they’d been all day, and you self-consciously slunk down into your seat as the van sped along through the trees that shrouded the lab from the rest of Hawkins. With the speed that Jonathan and your dad were driving, it didn’t take long until you were rounding the corner to the Byers’ house and pulling in to their driveway. You hopped out of the van, Steve and the kids filtering out behind you, and you rounded the other side of the van to meet your dad as he stepped out.

The two of you met each other in a fierce hug, and you couldn’t help the rush of tears that burst out of you, the culmination of all the day’s anxieties and stress. “I’m so sorry for what I said,” you sobbed into his neck. “About me and…” you didn’t want to say your sister’s name again, but you wanted your dad to know that you didn’t mean it, that it was just something that had boiled over the surface after too long spent stifling your emotions.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, and shushed you, but you couldn’t stem the tears now that you’d started crying. “You don’t need to be sorry when I’m being a jackass.” You cried a little harder into his shoulder, and he took a deep breath in before he spoke again. “I love you, kid. I should tell you that more often.”

“I love you too,” you said. You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke those words to your dad, but there was something fierce inside you right now that needed him to know. He hugged you tighter at that, inadvertently moving his arm around your wound, and you let out a weak ow into his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling back with his hands on your shoulders and a concerned look on his face.

“Had a bit of a run-in with a demogorgon,” you told him sheepishly, aware that this was the first he was hearing about it. His concern grew, but as he opened his mouth, you rushed to cut him off. “Just a small one though, and it’s bandaged up! It wasn’t that deep, I promise.”

He huffed unhappily, but conceded and started shepherding you into the house. “Okay. Will you let me take a look at it to give me some peace of mind, at least?”

You figured it would benefit from some actual medical attention and a real bandage, so you let him guide you into the house and through to the bathroom. As you walked through the living room, you realized just how much must have happened over the past few days that you had no awareness of. The floors and walls of the Byers’ house were covered with sheets of paper, blue and black tendrils scrawled on them, mapping out a network of tendrils that expanded through the whole house. Will, dressed in a hospital gown, was asleep on the couch, Jonathan and Nancy by his side. As you sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom and let your dad properly clean and bandage your wound, he explained the events of the past few days to you. Your breath hitched when he told you about the tunnels, and you had to remind yourself that he was here, kneeling in front of you, unharmed. He told you about Will, and Bob, and the gate deep in the lab, and your head swam with all the new information.

After he finished tending to your wound, he handed you a couple of painkillers and excused himself to make a call to try to alert someone about the lab and the casualties there. You thanked him, and took a few minutes to yourself to just sit and breathe. There was a part of you that always knew that the events of last year were never really finished with the documents you signed and the government agents’ promises that everything was under control, but now that it was rearing its head again, you once again felt completely out of your depth. You stood up and swallowed the pills down with a gulp of water from the sink, then took a few deep breaths before moving back into the house to see the rest of the group; you couldn’t risk spending too much time getting lost in your thoughts, and you needed the grounding presence of people around you.

As you exited the bathroom, you heard voices coming from the bedroom opposite. Inside, Mike was clutching another piece of paper, though instead of a blue-black tendril drawn on it (a tunnel, you reminded yourself), on this one you saw a large, black, spider-like creature looming over a forest, dark clouds gathering above it like a scene from a nightmare.

“This is the thing that controls everything,” Mike was explaining to Steve and the kids. “It’s the brain.”

“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin said, a look of realisation on his face, and Lucas snapped his fingers at him in agreement.

“Mind flayer?” you questioned, alerting them to your presence. Their heads whipped around to face you, but you didn’t have much time to feel too self-conscious before Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were rifling through Will’s bookshelf to find something. Eventually lifting a heavy manual from the shelf, they bustled past you and called everyone to the kitchen table. Max and Steve looked as lost as you felt, but you followed to the kitchen where they’d slammed the book down and had it open on a page full of fantasy monsters. Dustin was reeling off information about the ‘mind flayer’, and you realized that the book he was reading from was a Dungeons & Dragons manual.

“Oh my god,” your dad muttered, leaning against the wall. “None of this is real. This is a kids’ game.” You could tell it was coming from a place of concern, anxious because this was something he didn’t know how to fight, but he wasn’t helping.

“No, it’s a manual,” Dustin defended. “And it’s not for kids.”

“Normally I would agree,” you interjected from where you were leaning over the table, hands braced against the back of a chair. “But we have no idea what this thing is. It might as well be a villain from a kids’ game, right?”

Dustin seemed ready to argue at the second insinuation that D&D was for children, but Nancy cut him off. “So what does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically,” he replied. “It believes it’s the master race.”

“Like- like the Germans?” Steve asked, and you had to bite your lip to hide your smile as you looked up at him, though you didn’t do a very good job. His gaze flicked from Dustin, to Nancy, to you, looking for support.

“Uh, the Nazis?” Dustin guessed.

“Yeah, yeah…” Steve trailed off, looking like he wished he hadn’t said anything. “The Nazis.” You felt an impulse to reach a hand out and comfort him, then realized how ridiculous that thought was. Not only were you two barely friends before today, you were also in a crowded room alongside your dad and his girlfriend.

“It wants to spread,” Mike explained, answering his sister’s question. “Take over other dimensions.”

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Lucas finished dramatically, and you could feel yourself deflate slightly.

Nancy, pragmatic as ever, picked up the manual and studied the illustration of the monster. “Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything,” she started, trying to work through the problem, “then if we kill it…”

“We kill everything it controls,” Mike finished for her.

“But how do we kill it?” you asked, looking to the kids for answers.

“Uh, well, you summon an undead army,” Dustin stammered, and you could see that he knew he’d lost the room. “Uh, because… because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains. And the mind flayer, it- it likes brains. It’s just a game,” he conceded.

“What the hell are we doing here?” your dad asked loudly, clearly having had enough talk of monsters and fantasy games.

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup,” Dustin defended, meeting his volume, and you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face. It really was detrimental to defeating these monsters how quickly you all would devolve into arguments.

“We are!”

“How are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!”

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!”

“They’re right,” said a voice from down the hall, and you turned to see Joyce Byers, similarly dressed in hospital scrubs, looking paler than you’d ever seen her. “We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”

Your dad didn’t hesitate before moving over to her, a deep concern in his eyes. You furrowed your brow in confusion at how quickly he softened from his previous anger, wondering when they’d grown so close.

“Me too, Joyce, but how do we do that?” he asked. “We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“No,” Mike said suddenly, walking towards Will’s sleeping body on the couch, “but he does.”

-

The plan, as devised by the group, was to interrogate Will - or the monster inside him - in a space that he wouldn’t recognize as home. After everyone helped to clear out the Byers’ shed, your dad paired everyone off with orders to help ready the room. The kids, Joyce, and Jonathan were sent off to gather materials to help cover the walls, while Steve and Nancy were sent to the shed to start fixing a couple of old tarps to the walls. They eyed each other nervously at the instruction, but silently left to take care of their task. You protested at not having been given an instruction, to which your dad responded that you needed to be resting inside.

“I’m fine!” you argued, for what felt like the tenth time that night. “Besides, there’s no way I’m just going to be lying on the couch and kicking my feet up while you guys are busy and there’s a pack of monsters hunting us.”

Your dad looked unimpressed, but you stood your ground, and eventually he gave in. “Fine,” he said, “you can go and help Nancy and Steve in the shed. But no strenuous activity! Passing tools and cutting tape only!”

You couldn’t think of a place you’d rather be less right now than stuck in a small room with Steve and Nancy, but you also didn’t want to push your luck with your dad, so you headed out to the yard with a roll of tape and pushed the shed door open. You could immediately tell that the atmosphere inside was tense, and you figured that it wasn’t just because they were prepping the shed to act as an interrogation room for an inter-dimensional monster.

They both turned to look at you, and your stomach squirmed under their shared gaze. “I’m under strict instruction to pass tools and cut tape,” you said. God, you did not want to be here, but it would be too weird to turn and leave now.

“Oh, great,” Nancy said hurriedly. “I’ll- I’ll go and help Mike.” You tried to tell her that you hadn’t been sent to replace her, but she was already out of the shed and walking back to the house. You turned back to Steve and saw that he was busying himself with the tarp, stapling it into the wall of the shed, his brows furrowed.

“Sorry if I interrupted,” you said after a few moments.

He turned to look down at you from where he was stood on the stepladder and held your gaze for a moment, before sighing. “No, no, it wasn’t you,” he said. “Things have been weird for a few days.”

“Since… Halloween?” you hedged, remembering his sullen mood by the pool. He didn’t look too dissimilar at the moment.

“Yeah, since Halloween,” he replied. He didn’t say anything else, and you nodded, not sure whether you should follow up. The only sounds in the shed for a few beats were the steady repetition of his staple gun and the snipping of your scissors as you prepared lengths of tape, until he suddenly spoke again. “We broke up at Tina’s party… I think.”

Oh. “You think?”

“I mean, it wasn’t entirely clear,” he said, “but she called our relationship bullshit and told me she didn’t love me, so.” He went quiet again after that, and you guessed that maybe he didn’t mean for all of that to come spilling out. You remembered that she was with Jonathan when you and Steve met up with her earlier, which you imagined must have hurt after all the rumors about the two of them last year.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said. It didn’t feel like enough, but you weren’t really sure what else to say. All you could think about was how they always seemed like the perfect couple at school, that she was the one girl that made Steve Harrington fall head over heels in love for once, rather than the other way around. You couldn’t exactly tell him that.

“Yeah,” he said, similarly at a loss for words. Luckily he didn’t let you sit in your poor effort at consolation for too long before he spoke again, seemingly wanting to move the conversation elsewhere. “I’m glad you found your dad.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, as you passed him a few pieces of tape. “Me too. I kind of… said some things I regret to him before he went missing. So I’m glad those weren’t, you know… the last things I ever said to him.” The morbidity of that sentiment hit you as you said it, but these were morbid times, you supposed.

“Really?” Steve paused his taping and stapling to turn to look at you in surprise. It was nice that he thought of you as someone who wasn’t capable of saying mean things.

“Well, we both said a lot of things to each other,” you reasoned, fidgeting by pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you grew awkward under his gaze. “We’ve never been very good with words, as a household. Apart from when we argue.”

He caught the humor in your voice and huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, I get that,” he replied, and you realized you didn’t know much about his home life, although the amount of parties he held at his house suggested that his parents were either especially cool or especially absent. You could guess from the sardonic tone to his voice which was closer to the truth.

The rest of the group filtered in not long after with their finds, and you all set to work preparing the shed until it looked unrecognizable. A chair was pulled to the center of the room, upon which Jonathan gently placed Will. His arms, hands, and feet were tied using the plastic wires from Joyce’s washing line. Your dad ushered out everyone except Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike after that, and you all went to restlessly wait inside the house. You took the opportunity to lie down on the couch, finally admitting that you needed some rest. Now that there was nothing left to do but wait, though, it was like your body wasn’t listening to your direction to calm down. Your heart wouldn’t stop pounding and once you noticed it, it was like you couldn’t not notice it. You sat up from the couch and took some deep breaths in and out. Steve was a few feet away with his back to you, taking practice swings with his bat, and Dustin was pacing around the house. On his way into the living room, he caught your eye and furrowed his brows. Clearly you weren’t doing a very good job of hiding your emotions.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, catching the attention of Steve, as well as Nancy, who turned just slightly around the corner in the kitchen. You did your best to give a convincing nod and smile to the three pairs of eyes fixed on you, but they didn’t have much time to respond, because all of a sudden the lamps in the house began furiously flickering. The four of you, as well as Max and Lucas, rushed to the kitchen window to look out at the shed. The layers of cardboard and tarp fixed over the shed’s windows didn’t betray much, but some slivers of flickering light were escaping from the cracks in the wooden walls.

“Should we go out there?” you asked, looking around the group to find similarly worried expressions on their faces.

“Hopper told us to stay put,” Max said, though she sounded unconvinced.

“Let’s give it a minute,” Nancy decided. She was a year younger than you, but she always gave off such an air of confidence and practicality in situations like this that you always found yourself putting complete trust in her decisions.

It wasn’t long before you saw your dad rushing out of the shed and back into the house, followed by Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike. As he strode in through the kitchen door, he grabbed a pen and envelope from the kitchen counter and sat down at the table. Everyone crowded around him as began scrawling something on the back.

“What happened?” you asked, trying to get a look at the paper.

“I think he’s talking,” he said, “just not with words.”

“What is that?” Steve asked, as your dad’s hand moved to reveal he’d drawn a series of dots and dashes.

“Morse code,” you said in unison with the kids. Your dad had taught it to you when you were eleven. It was an important life skill, he’d told you when you’d shown reluctance to learn, and you’d always rolled your eyes in the same way that kids did when forced to learn trigonometry. You can’t imagine that he had this situation in mind when you were a kid, though.

H-E-R-E, the message spelled out. Joyce and Jonathan looked at each other with visible relief in their eyes. You don’t know what went on in the shed, but it must have been hard for them to watch. “Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.”

Quickly, a plan was formed, and Jonathan ran to grab his tape deck and Will’s favorite tapes from his room. Dustin passed Hopper his walkie and the group left for the shed again, leaving the rest of you to set up shop at the kitchen table. Lucas set his walkie on the table and Nancy sourced a notepad and pens, and you waited to receive the coded messages. You felt a glimmer of hope at the breakthrough, though you made sure to focus your attention on the walkie. You had to get this right.

Soon, the walkie began beeping, and you sprung into action. Dash dot dash dot, you whispered as you noted it down on the paper, before reading it back aloud to the group. Lucas was consulting a morse code chart, and once he found the corresponding letter (“C!”, he shouted), Nancy wrote it down using one of Will’s drawing pencils. The beeping continued for what felt like an age, but you knew it was just the pressure of the situation. Will only had so much time to pass his messages on to you all, and it was on you to decode them.  Luckily, the adrenaline that was still coursing through your body allowed you to keep focus, and soon enough, the words became clear, and the beeping came to an end. You moved from your chair to read the message Nancy had written out.

C L O S E G A T E

As soon as you were all murmuring the words, you were interrupted by a shrill BRRRRRING from the telephone. It startled you and Nancy from your reveries so much that you both flinched and gasped, and Dustin cursed loudly as he ran to hang up the phone. A tense, silent moment followed and you wondered if it had been loud enough to hear from the shed, before suddenly the ringing started up again. Clearly not willing to take any more chances, Nancy gripped the entire unit and tore it from the wall, throwing it to the ground with a grunt. You were so surprised at her strength and the suddenness of the action that you momentarily forgot the severity of the situation and felt like laughing, but Max’s voice brought you back to the present.

“Do you think he heard that?”

“It’s just a phone,” Steve reasoned. “It could be anywhere, right?”

You wanted to agree, but you had that terrible sickly feeling again, the one that came before the demogorgon last year, right in this living room. You looked at him warily and hugged your arms to yourself. A brief moment of silence followed as you all waited to see if there would be a response from the group in the shed, before you heard a sound you hadn’t heard in hours, that piercing, screeching howl off in the distance.

“That’s not good,” Dustin said slowly.

“I guess he heard,” Max said, before the rest of the group filed in through the kitchen door. Your dad followed, carrying a shotgun and an assault rifle, and directed the kids to get away from the windows. You hadn’t seen that look on his face since last year, the mix of fierce determination and wired anxiety. You knew it terrified him to be facing something he didn’t understand, didn’t know how to protect everyone from. It unsettled you to see him like that, but as he passed you the shotgun with a firm nod, you couldn’t do anything else but nod in return. This was happening.

You made sure to stand in front of the kids and readied your weapon, Steve to your right lifting his baseball bat in the air in preparation of whatever was about to burst through the doors and windows. The monsters were smaller than last year, you reasoned in your head, but there were a lot of them. They definitely outnumbered you, and it would take a lot of bullets to pierce through their thick skin until you could be sure they were down. Another screech sounded in the distance, but you could tell it was getting closer.

A loud snarling and heavy THUD sounded from just outside the house, much louder than the howls in the distance, and you all whipped around to face the direction of the noise. You watched as the bushes outside the kitchen window rustled, and you could hear the low gurgling of a demogorgon as it prowled around outside. Your hand was getting sweaty where it gripped the shotgun, but you couldn’t risk a moment to wipe it dry. You took a slow, deep breath, but you were interrupted by another loud THUD, this time from just outside the front door. You all swung back around the face the noise again, which was followed by a series of squelches, more thuds, and another screech, before finally everything was quiet. Your brow furrowed in confusion and you cut your eyes to your dad quickly, but his gaze was fixed forward.

Suddenly, before you could grasp what was happening, the living window shattered as something was launched through it. You screamed and leapt back alongside everyone else, following the direction of the movement to the corner of the living room, where a small demogorgon lay still, its several jaws hanging slack. You kept your gun trained at it in case it moved again, but it didn’t stir. Your dad crept closer, his gun aimed at the monster, and carefully nudged its head with his foot.

“Is it dead?” Max asked cautiously, but before he could answer, the door creaked behind you.

You quickly turned and lifted your gun towards the door, expecting to find another demogorgon ready to pounce, but instead you noticed that the locks and deadbolts were slowly opening by themselves. You lowered your gun, just slightly, and looked to your dad, who met your gaze this time, matching your look of trepidation.

The locks finally all open, the door slowly swung on its hinges. Stepping out from behind it, with scuffed sneakers and a bloody nose, was Eleven.

Chapter Text

“The gate’s not like it was before. It’s grown - a lot,” your dad said as he stood over the kitchen table, gaze traveling around the room. El’s return was emotional for the kids, who you remembered hadn’t seen her in a year, let alone knew for sure that she was alive. Mike and your dad had ended up having an explosive argument in the other room over his decision to keep her safe in the cabin, and you felt odd about your place in all of this. You hadn’t really known Eleven well enough to have an emotional reunion with her like the kids or Joyce, but all the same, you had kept her existence in Hawkins a secret from everyone else here. You opted to stay out of the way with Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, the three of you explaining to Steve who Eleven was and how she’d been involved last year (though you found yourself at a loss for words trying to explain the gate and her powers).

“And I mean, that’s all considering we can get into the lab,” your dad continued. “The place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demodogs,” Dustin corrected. He took your dad’s blank, unimpressed look for a prompt to continue. “You know, like demogorgon and dogs, you put ‘em together -“

“I can do it,” El interrupted, saving Dustin from whatever cutting comment your dad was about to make.

“You’re not hearing me,” he replied. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m hearing you,” she stated, blunt but confident. “I can do it.”

There was still, however, the question of what to do about Will. If the brain dies, the body dies - but Will was still part of that body. Even if El was able to get into the lab and down to the gate unharmed enough to close it, Will’s connection to the mind flayer meant that he would die along with it. As Mike explained the issue to everyone, the group followed him into Will’s bedroom where he’d been moved from the shed and gently placed on his bed. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve guessed that he was peacefully sleeping - not part of an inter-dimensional hive mind trying to eradicate your town.

You felt a sudden chill and shivered, then realized his bedroom window was wide open. You furrowed your brow in confusion - it was early November and far too cold to keep the window open all day. Joyce was staring too, although as she stepped closer, you could see she was looking at it in realization.

“He likes it cold,” she said. “That’s what Will kept saying to me, ‘He likes it cold’.” She whipped around to the rest of the room with an almost wild look on her face. “We keep giving it what it wants.”

“If this is a virus,” Nancy said, catching on, “and Will’s the host, then…”

“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable,” Jonathan finished.

“We need to burn it out of him,” Joyce said, a fierce determination in her that almost sent another chill down your spine.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time,” Mike added. “Somewhere far away.”

While the others began trying to think of a suitable location, you turned to look at your dad and raised your eyebrows at him. The cabin would be perfect, you thought: isolated from concerned neighbors and not somewhere Will had ever been. It seemed he had had the same thought, and gave you a nod.

“We can take him to our cabin,” you said to the room, though you looked at Joyce and Jonathan as you spoke. “It’s out in the woods off Denfield. It’s - where El has been staying.” You could feel the kids’ eyes on you as you said this, but you avoided their gaze.

It was decided that Will would be bundled into Jonathan’s car with as many blankets, lamps, and space heaters as they could fit. There was enough room for Jonathan, Joyce and one more, and because your dad needed to accompany El to the lab to help her get to the gate safely, you volunteered yourself to take the extra space. It made the most sense, really - you weren’t that close with the Byers’ that you felt you needed to be there for support, but you could ensure that they reached the cabin as quick as possible, and that was what was important.

“No way,” Steve said with a disbelieving laugh as you announced your plan to the room. You looked at him in surprise, not expecting the outburst, and so did everyone else in the room. It seemed that he was expecting more people to object along with him, and he started stammering in embarrassment. “You know, because - because of her wound. You got bit by one of those things earlier, and if Will draws them to the cabin, you - and it’ll be really hot, that’s probably not good for it either, right?”

Your dad eyed him suspiciously. “He’s right,” he said reluctantly, before moving his gaze to you. “You’re staying here.”

“What - seriously?” You hated this stupid wound.

“Seriously. Jonathan can follow directions,” he said, before his expression softened and he moved to grasp your shoulder. At this, the rest of the room made themselves busy with their preparations to give you both space. “I’ll see you later, kid. Stay safe for me, okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “you too.” You tried to give him and El your most comforting smile as they left, then joined the kids as they searched the house for anything that could help increase Will’s temperature. You tried not to think about your dad driving off back into the belly of the beast and instead focused on gathering blankets and lamps, ferrying them outside to Jonathan’s car. Just as you were dropping off the last of them and wishing Jonathan and Joyce good luck, Nancy came running from behind the house and jumped into the passenger seat next to Jonathan. You tried not to let the surprise show on your face, and moved back to the porch where the rest of the group had gathered to see off El and Will. As the cars drove off into the distance, the kids slowly filtered back into the house to wait out the rest of the night, leaving you and Steve outside.

You glanced at him sidelong for a moment while he looked up at the night sky, and you were briefly reminded of the other day when he’d stared at the stars next to Tina’s pool. “Nancy didn’t stay?” you asked, hoping it wasn’t a sore subject, but you couldn’t help your curiosity.

“No, I told her to go with him,” Steve said, then looked down at his feet and scuffed his sneaker against the porch stair. “Maybe that was stupid, I don’t know.”

“That’s big of you,” you replied after a moment. You couldn’t imagine the Steve of last year, maybe even six months ago, doing the same thing.

He shrugged, and was silent for a moment, then looked at you with a smile. “Besides, we make a pretty good babysitting team just us two, right?” he asked, and nudged your shoulder with his.

There was a sudden bloom of butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn’t help your grin or the heat in your cheeks. You rolled your eyes fondly at him. “I guess,” you said, faux annoyed at your new job title.

He smiled back, but after a moment his expression grew apologetic. “Sorry I was gunning so hard for you to stay behind,” he said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“No, it’s fine,” you said, shaking your head. You stood up straight from where you were leaning against the wall and moved to follow the kids back into the house, holding the door for Steve behind you. “You were right. I just hate feeling useless.”

“Hey, you’re not useless,” he insisted as you both entered the living room. “You’re helping me look after these brats.”

Four unimpressed thirteen-year-old faces turned to look at you. You can’t imagine they were happy about being made to stay behind either.

-

You had all decided to make yourselves somewhat useful while you were stuck waiting for everyone’s return, so you and the kids were helping to clean the mess in the house. Dustin had somehow managed to persuade Steve to store the dead demodog in Joyce’s fridge, and they returned as you were sweeping the shards of glass from the window off the floor. Lucas and Max were picking up fallen books, photo frames, and plant pots that had been knocked down when El sent the monster flying through the window. Mike, however, had been restlessly pacing for a few minutes now, too worried about El to focus on anything else.

“I mean, look at what just one of those things did to you,” he was saying, gesturing to you as he tried to convince everyone to leave the house and help. “El’s over at the lab with who knows how many of them!”

“I don’t have superpowers,” you pointed out. “She’ll be okay, Mike.” Inside, you were worrying about your dad just as much as he was worrying about El, but you were trying to channel it into something you could control. Going to the lab would just cause them more trouble.

At the mention of your injury, you saw Dustin consider you for a few moments. “Hey, how do we know it’s not zombie rules? You know, with the demodog bites?” he asked.

You paused your sweeping and sent him a flat, unimpressed look. “It’s not zombie rules,” you replied, no room for argument.

“What?” Steve asked, looking lost.

“He’s asking if I’m going to turn into a demogorgon because one of them bit me,” you explained. You saw Max and Lucas straighten up slightly and look at each other cautiously. “Oh my god, I’m not turning into a demogorgon.”

“Come on, dude,” Steve admonished, looking at Dustin.

“Do we know for sure that she isn’t?” Dustin asked. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Mike cut you off.  “Guys, can we focus? El is in danger!”

“Listen, dude, Hopper told us to stay put here,” Steve said, thankfully distracted from the zombie theory. “A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it, alright?”

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike replied. “And second, we’re not even in the game! We’re on the bench!”

“R-right, so my point is…” Steve trailed off. The kids looked at him expectantly and you grinned as you continued sweeping. “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin began, and you squinted your eyes at him in suspicion. “I mean, these demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“So if we get their attention…” Lucas said, catching on.

“Maybe we can draw them from the lab,” Max finished.

“Uh, hello?” you said to them, trying to stop this stupidly heroic plan before it got too far. “We are not baiting them!”

They clearly were not listening to you. “I got it!” Mike announced, and ran to Will’s drawings of the tunnels that spread over the fridge. “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. And then here…” he ran back to the hallway, to what looked like a crossroads where several different tunnels met. “Here, this is like a hub. Maybe if we set this on fire…”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a no,” Steve tried, but they were all too excited by the idea to listen.

“The mind flayer would call away his army…”

“They’d all come to stop us….”

“Then we circle back to the exit!”

You looked at Steve in desperation and he lifted his hands in exasperation.

“By the time they realize we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate!”

“Guys!” you and Steve both shouted for the second time that night, which finally caught their attention.

“This is not happening,” you said, and Steve placed his hands on hips to try to assert some authority.

“But-“

“No, no, no,” Steve interrupted. “No buts. We promised we’d keep you shitheads safe, so we’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?”

“This isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike repeated, and you could see how desperate he was to help El, but you couldn’t risk their safety.

“You’re right, it’s not a game, it’s real life,” you said, trying to make them understand. “I know you’re all worried about El, but for god’s sake, we are not letting you run around underground tunnels to act as bait for a pack of monsters. None of you are dying on our watch.”

You didn’t particularly want to remind them of the dire consequences their plan might have, but it seemed to work, because they all went quiet for a few moments after you spoke. You felt slightly guilty, but they needed to understand that this wasn’t a D&D game or an action movie or whatever they were envisioning in their heads.

“Well?” Steve questioned, his arms crossed. “Does everybody understand?”

They looked like they wanted to argue again, but whatever they were about to say, they were interrupted by the loud revving of a car engine from outside. You turned in confusion - it was far too early for any of the others to be back yet. Had something gone wrong?

The kids looked just as confused, except for Max, who went white as a sheet and ran to the living room window. “It’s my brother,” she said hurriedly as the car pulled up outside. She had a wild look on her face as she looked between you and Steve, pleading. “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me - he’ll kill us.”

The seriousness in her voice sent goosebumps down your arms. She wasn’t exaggerating, she really believed he might hurt her. “Your brother?” you asked.

“Billy,” she replied, and your eyes met Steve’s concerned gaze. Despite all his posturing, you could tell that Billy was dangerous. Unlike the other jocks at school who lacked a spine when it really came down to it, Billy was a wildcard. You didn’t know, and didn’t want to find out, what he was capable of. Steve seemed to feel the same way.

“Let me deal with him,” he said.

“If we don’t answer the door, he’ll just get bored and leave,” you tried to reason. There was no reason for Steve to get beaten up on top of everything else you had going on.

“He’s probably already seen the broken window and the lights on in the house,” he replied, and you supposed that was true. It did look suspicious. “It’s okay, I’ll get him to leave.”

You didn’t have much faith in his plan, but you couldn’t tell him that, so you just gave him a nod before he walked out the door. You turned around to face the kids, only to find them slowly creeping towards the window to try to see what was going on.

“Guys!” you shout-whispered, trying not to alert Billy to your presence inside. “Get away from the window!”

They scrambled to lower themselves down on the couch under the windowsill, and you hoped they weren’t visible long enough for Billy to notice. They were right, though, you needed to know what was going on outside, so you silently stepped towards the front door and pressed your ear to it. The kids watched you expectantly, but you couldn’t hear much clearly, just Billy and Steve’s muffled voices. They spoke for a few moments more before there was a beat of silence, and you moved to look through the peephole to see what had happened.

As soon as you caught sight of them, Billy was swinging his arm back to punch Steve square in the face, and you gasped and flinched back from the door as he was sent tumbling to the ground. You didn’t have much time to react before you heard Billy’s heavy footsteps thudding towards you, and you moved back a few paces just in time before he slammed the door open. The kids ran to the back of the room behind you and you wished you hadn’t given the shotgun back to Jonathan earlier, if only so you could scare Billy off.

“Well, well, well,” he said, looking at the kids over your shoulder. “Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise.”

You moved in front of his gaze and forced him to look at you. There was no way you’d be able to take him in a fight if it came to it, but you suddenly felt an incredible surge of protectiveness over the kids. You had to keep them safe. “You need to leave,” you said, as firmly as you could.

As his eyes focused on your face, a slow smirk came over his lips. “I remember you,” he said. “The mouthy bitch from Halloween.”

“Billy, go away,” Max said from behind you, but he ignored her, his eyes trained on you.

As he stepped closer into your space, you could smell the heavy mix of cigarettes and cologne on him. He was trying to get you to back up, but you stood firm, raising your chin and looking into his eyes. He wasn’t that tall, but it felt like he was looming over you.

“You know, I thought that night that you needed putting in your place,” he said. You realized in that moment that you’d never felt anger like this, his words sending adrenaline coursing through you and making your hands shake with fury.

“I said-“ you tried to tell him to leave again, but he cut you off with a sharp slap across your face. The shocking sting and force of it made you falter for a second, and he took that opportunity to push past you. He grabbed Lucas by the collar of his jacket and lifted him off the ground, walking him into the kitchen. The kids were screaming at Billy to let him go, but just as you moved to follow, Steve was rushing past you.

Lucas sent a swift knee to Billy’s groin from where he was being held against the wall, and as Billy took a faltering step back, he groaned, “You’re dead, Sinclair.”

“No,” Steve said, pulling Billy around to face him by the shoulder. “You are.” He delivered a quick punch to Billy’s face that sent him doubling over, but just as you thought Steve might have gained the upper hand by taking Billy by surprise, the other boy started mockingly laughing and straightened up to face Steve.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” he asked, clearly taking pleasure in Steve fighting back. “I’ve been waiting to meet this ‘King Steve’ everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

You marched up towards them and stood at Steve’s side, both of you tense as you watched to see if Billy would make another move. “Get. The fuck. Out,” you said lowly, breathing heavily through your anger.

Billy’s eyes darted between the two of you and he chuckled, as if at the audacity you had to tell him what to do. This time, as you watched his arm rear back to deliver a hit to you, you ducked, and he ended up swinging over your head, stumbling slightly as the movement unbalanced him. Steve took the opportunity to lay another punch at his face, and then another, and another, until he was backing Billy up towards the kitchen sink. As Billy’s legs hit the cabinet, though, he reached behind him to grab a plate from the counter and smashed it against Steve’s face.

You gasped as if it was you being hit and Steve stumbled back, cursing as he grabbed a kitchen chair to stabilize himself. Billy rushed towards Steve, laughing again, and swung two swift hits against him that pushed him towards the living room. You could hear the kids yelling, an indistinct mix that was egging you and Steve on and urging Billy to stop.

You rushed into the living room as Billy was grabbing Steve by the collar of his jacket. He reared back to headbutt Steve and the force of it sent Steve tumbling backwards to the floor with a grunt. Just as Billy moved to follow, you ran forwards and took a handful of the long hair at the back of his neck, yanking it as hard and as painfully as you could, shouting out with the exertion. He yelled in surprise before whipping around to grab your arm. He had clearly had enough of your interference, because he used his other hand to roughly grab your wounded side, just under your ribs, and take you in his grasp, using all his force to shove you away from him into the wall.

You heard Max shouting your name as your head bounced off the drywall. It wasn’t a sensation you had ever felt before, but you felt as if your brain was rattling around your skull. You groaned in pain, a dull throbbing in the back of your head, your cheek still stinging from where you’d been hit, and your wound throbbing from Billy’s tight hold. It occurred to you then that you’d never been in a fight before, and the pain and exertion was catching up to you. You leant over to brace your hands on the floorboards as you caught your breath and prepared yourself to stand again.

“Stop! You’re going to kill him!” you heard Dustin yell, and you looked up to see Billy crouched over Steve, laying hit after hit on his face. Worryingly, Steve wasn’t fighting back, or even moving. He just lay there limply, his head jolting back and forth with the force of each of Billy’s punches. You felt sick watching the scene play out and you pushed yourself up onto your feet. You knew you didn’t have the strength to pull Billy off without getting shoved to the wall again, and you quickly scanned the room around you for something to hit him with, or at the very least distract him.

As your eyes landed on Steve’s bat propped against the wall a few feet away, you noticed a movement out of the corner of your eye. Max was watching your movements and had grabbed the syringe lying on the sideboard, the same one that Joyce had used earlier to sedate Will before they took him to the cabin. She caught your eye, and you grabbed the bat upside down, just underneath the nails. Despite the pain he’d inflicted tonight, you knew that doing serious harm to Billy would only make things worse in the long run.

You took a deep breath and slowly crept up behind Billy, who seemed so focused on wailing on Steve that he didn’t notice as you stood over him and raised the bat in the air. You swung the wooden handle of it down on his head with a shout and he stumbled to the side, bracing himself on the floor with one arm. Unable to help yourself, you swung down again and he grunted out in pain, his arm collapsing under his weight. “‘Put me in my place’, piece of shit,” you spat, and kicked him hard in the stomach before you backed off. You heaved a breath and you felt like sobbing and screaming all at once.

Max quickly plunged the syringe into his neck while he was still down, and he rolled over onto his back while he was still able to. “What the fuck,” he slurred, looking between the two of you. “What did… you do?”

Max was breathing heavily next to you, looking as angry as you were, and she grabbed the bat by its handle from your hand. She held it over her shoulder as if she was about to swing, but she paused as she leant over Billy’s body. “From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone,” she threatened. “Do you understand?”

Billy chuckled, still having the wherewithal to demean Max before the sedative kicked in. “Screw you,” he whispered with a lazy smirk.

Max looked incensed at his words, and for a moment as she lifted the bat, you thought she was going to hit him, but she swung it down on the wooden floor right in the middle of his legs. His head snapped up, and despite the sedative and head injury, you saw a small flicker of fear on his face. “Say you understand!” she yelled. “Say it!”

He hesitated for a moment, but when she repeated herself, he conceded. “I understand,” he murmured, his eyelids beginning to drop. Max continued to stand with the bat lifted for a moment, just staring at Billy wide-eyed and panting, before she threw it to the ground. All of a sudden, she was rushing towards you and crushing you in a hug. Her arms wrapping around your middle put more pressure on your injury, but you didn’t care, and you returned the hug just as tightly. You both needed something to cling to, someone to help you come down from the fear and adrenaline and anger. You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes, just for a moment.

Chapter Text

You really did try your best to stop the kids from going to the tunnels, but you supposed it didn’t look that way when you were the one driving them there in Billy’s car. After you’d made sure that Billy was knocked out, you’d taken a minute to sit down and catch your breath after the fight, as well as check that you hadn’t taken too much damage to your injured stomach. It had definitely bled more from Billy’s rough grasp, but when you peeled back the bandage slightly to inspect it, it thankfully didn’t look too much worse. It would need stitches soon, you had thought, but that could wait. Distracted by your injury, you had only noticed that the kids were up to something when you heard the jingle of a set of keys.

You’d looked up to see Max fishing out Billy’s car keys from the pocket of his jeans. “We’re getting out of here,” she had said, before you could ask what was going on.

“What the hell?” you’d asked, as the boys behind her moved towards the door, stepping around Billy’s prone body. “No we’re not!”

They seemed to have been emboldened by the fight (the one that you fought!) and were not going to give in so easily to your attempts to babysit them anymore. “No offense, but you’re not really in a position to stop us,” Dustin had said, and you frowned in offense. “So either you stay here with Billy or come with us.”

“What - how are you even going to get there without me and Steve?” you had pointed out. “You’re in eighth grade, none of you can drive.”

“I’ll drive, I’ve done it before,” Max said, and it had probably looked comical the way your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened.

“Cool…” Dustin breathed, looking awestruck.

“You’re not driving,” you had said definitively. You actually feared the idea of them driving around in a car by themselves more than the thought of them baiting the demodogs in the tunnels, and that thought is probably what convinced you in the end. Max had held out the keys to you with her eyebrows raised at that point, and you didn’t want to think about how easily she’d played you.

As the kids had run around the house trying to scavenge anything that would help them in the tunnels, you’d tried to wake Steve up. He had looked completely knocked out when Billy was crouched over him, but he was breathing at least, which allayed some of your worries. You shook his shoulders as gently as you could to avoid making any head injuries he might have worse, but he’d only mumbled indistinctly as if he was asleep and dreaming. You couldn’t help the fond smile that crept over your face.

You and Dustin had persuaded the rest of the kids to help lift Steve into the car; Lucas and Mike had argued that he’d freak out when he woke up and found himself at the entrance to the tunnels, but since Billy was liable to wake up at any point, it was probably safer to bring him with you in the car. Besides, you’d rather have him as support to prevent any further heroics from going down in the tunnels. You were going to try your best to get the kids in and out and steer clear of the demodogs as much as possible.

That was how you found yourself driving Billy’s car, Max in the passenger seat next to you, and Steve laid out over the laps of the boys in the back seat. Billy’s muscle car was unfamiliar and you had to concentrate to make sure you didn’t stall when you changed gears. It didn’t help that the kids kept disagreeing over the quickest way to the farm and yelling directions at the last minute.

You’d been driving down the long stretch of Cornwallis when you heard Steve groan from the back, and you flicked your eyes to the rearview to see that he was beginning to stir. “Nancy…?” he asked dazedly, staring at Mike’s face, and you brought a hand to your mouth to stop from laughing too loudly.

“Hey, buddy,” Dustin said, holding an ice pack to his head and smiling down at him, before shushing his ensuing groans. “Hey, it’s okay, you put up a good fight. Billy kicked your ass and the girls had to take him out, but you’re okay.”

“Okay, keep straight for half a mile,” Max said to your right, “then take a left on Mount Sinai.”

You nodded at her instructions, blessedly free from argument from the rest of the car, and made sure to keep your eye out for the road signs in the dark.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Steve asked blearily. There was a pause as he took in his surroundings. “Do you even know how to drive?”

Once again, Steve seemed to know more about you than you previously thought. Your mouth worked for a second while you figured out how to answer, but clearly it was a second too long. “You don’t know how to drive?!” Mike asked from behind you, incredulous.

“I do, I do!” you insisted. “I just don’t have my licence yet, they keep failing me!”

“How many times have you failed?” Lucas asked.

“…Four,” you answered. It really wasn’t that many.

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned at your answer.

“Okay, you’re being dramatic,” you said with a huff. “I can clearly drive!” Unhelpfully, your focus elsewhere, you managed to stall the car at that moment as you attempted to shift into a higher gear. The sudden jolt sent Steve flying forwards and he knocked his head off the back of Max’s seat. It was cushioned, thankfully, but he let out a small ow and rubbed the bruise on his forehead.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, and got the car moving again. You were trying to get there as fast as possible without wrecking the car, so you sped up until you were just over the speed limit.

“Where are we even going?” Steve asked. He was met with silence as the kids looked at each other, none of them eager to answer, but that was clearly enough of a response. “Seriously?! I said no tunnels!”

Chaos ensued in the back of the car as Steve began to freak out and demanded that you stop the car, prompting Lucas and Mike to start an ‘I told you so’ match with Dustin, who was oscillating between loudly defending himself and trying to get Steve to calm down. You tried to yell at them to shut up and let you concentrate, but either they didn’t hear you or they were ignoring you. Max was trying to tell you something, but the amount of yelling in the back meant that you needed to ask her to repeat herself.

“Left!” she shouted, and you realized she was telling you that you were about to miss the turning for the farm. Not wanting to waste any more time turning around or taking extra turns, you quickly spun the wheel to the left, but it seemed you had miscalculated the turn slightly because there was a thud before the top of someone’s mailbox was sent flying across their lawn. Steve and the kids screamed and your heart pounded as you righted the car, now speeding along the dirt track leading to the farm. For a moment all you could see was empty field, until two mounds of dirt quickly came into view. You slammed the brakes on the car, everyone lurching forwards, and you came to an abrupt stop in front of a large hole in the ground.

There was silence for a moment while you rested your hands on the wheel and caught your breath. “Everyone alive?” you asked, trying for some humor.

“That was awesome,” Dustin said, still slightly out of breath, though your smile was met with Steve’s incredulous face when you turned around in your seat.

You climbed out of the car and pulled the seat forward to let everyone else filter out, and as you and the kids began gearing up with the supplies they’d loaded into the trunk, Steve clambered out, still groaning slightly. You flicked your eyes to him as you tightened a bandana around your nose and mouth, hoping he wasn’t going to kick up too much of a fuss.

“You seriously drove them out here?” he asked, fingers to the bridge of his nose. You couldn’t tell if it was from pain or frustration. “What happened to staying on the bench?”

“Okay, first of all, they didn’t give me much of a choice,” you defended, grabbing a pair of goggles and a jerry can. “And I’m trying to keep them safe. We’re just going in and out, you can either come with us or stay up here.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, moving closer to you. “You’re going down there as well?”

You huffed and pulled your bandana down so you could speak to him properly. “Seriously, Steve? This again? I’m fine!”

“Uh, yes, this again! What if - what if your wound gets infected by some sort of alien demogorgon shit or something?” You gave him an unimpressed look that he ignored. “You stay here. I’ll go with them.” He reached for your jerry can but you moved your hand out of his way before he could.

“You? You probably have a concussion!”

“I do not have a concussion.”

“If you two don’t stop arguing we’re going without either of you!” Dustin yelled, snapping you back to your surroundings. The kids were all lined up by the hole, bandanas and goggles on, and they’d tied a length of rope to the front of Billy’s car that dangled down into the ground.

“Steve,” you said firmly, returning your gaze to his eyes. “I need you to trust that I can do this. I know you’re just trying to keep us all safe, but they want to help their friend, and maybe this will help my dad, too.” He looked unconvinced, but he wasn’t protesting, so you continued on. “Our best chance at keeping them safe is to work together, right?”

He groaned and shook his head, but it didn’t look disagreeable, more like he couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this. “Fine, fine,” he said, moving to the trunk to grab supplies. “Let’s go then.”

You pulled your goggles and bandana on and made your way to the entrance of the tunnel and tugged on the rope, making sure it would hold weight without sending the car toppling through the hole when you came back out later. You heard the trunk slam shut and saw Steve walking over, a bright red bandana around his face and neon yellow goggles over his eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. “That’s a good look on you,” you said teasingly.

“Don’t push it,” he said, then began to lower himself down into the hole. You followed after him, grunting a little on landing, but the drop thankfully wasn’t too deep. When the kids were all safely down, you took a moment to look around. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the blue-darkness, but as you looked at the walls around you, you realized that they weren’t just made of stone or dirt. There was something… organic about them as well. You shone your flashlight around, and gently drifting particles in the air caught in its light. They reminded you of dandelion seeds. You had a sickly sense of dread growing in the pit of your stomach and knew you needed to be quick about this.

“Okay, I’ll bring up the rear,” you said, turning around the face the group. “Steve, take the front and follow Mike’s directions. No one wanders off, and no one tries anything heroic, got that?”

There was silence from the kids as they took everything in around them. “Got that?” Steve asked, louder. They murmured their agreement, and then Mike was consulting a map he’d drawn based on Will’s paper tunnels that stretched around his house.

Everyone set off single file following Mike and Steve down the tunnel, but before you made a move, you shone your flashlight around behind you one last time. You couldn’t see anything beyond a few feet in front of you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lurking, waiting for you to turn your back before it attacked. You stared into the darkness for a few moments more, breath caught and almost beginning to feel lost in it, before you heard Steve up ahead rallying the kids to hurry up. It snapped you out of your anxious reverie and you turned around, jogging to catch up with Lucas and Max in front of you. In and out, you reminded yourself.

-

You were all silent as you walked. There was silence in the tunnels, too; you’d expected to hear movements in the distance, a howling or screeching like in the junkyard, but instead there was just an eerie quiet and the echoes of your footsteps. It felt like a barrier that you didn’t want to break by speaking, though you felt too tense and wired to talk anyway. It felt wrong to be down here, like you weren’t just a few feet beneath Merrill’s farm - or wherever you’d ended up now. You weren’t sure exactly how long you’d been walking or how much ground you’d covered, all the darkness disorienting you slightly, but after a while, Steve and Mike alerted the rest of you to the ‘hub’ up in the distance.

You followed until the tunnel opened up into a large chamber. All around the hollowed out space, wide holes in the wall led to tunnels that you knew branched out across Hawkins. In the center of the room was what looked like a large growth emerging from the ground; it was covered in the same strange organic matter that covered the walls and floor, as well as tendril-like vines that spread throughout the chamber.

“Let’s drench it,” Mike said, and you steeled yourself before you set to work. You, Steve, and the kids set about drenching the area in gasoline until the smell was stinging your nose. Once everyone’s canisters and jerry cans were empty, you tossed them into a pile and returned to the edge of the tunnel you’d entered from. Making sure the kids were behind the two of you, you stood next to Steve as he took out his lighter from his jacket pocket, the one he’d been fidgeting with all those hours ago at the junkyard. It felt like a lifetime ago.

He flicked the wheel with his thumb until it lit, then looked to you. You looked in his eyes for a moment, through the goggles, then nodded. There was no turning back after this, and you had to be prepared to run. He nodded once, to himself, then threw the lighter onto the gasoline-soaked ground of the chamber. There was a sudden whoosh and immediately the room was up in flames, the sudden heat of it making you step back. The vines that had trailed the floor shot up almost as if in pain, twisting around, dancing in the light of the fire. Hive mind, you remembered. You thought of Will, strapped to a bed and sweating in the cabin, and hoped you hadn’t inflicted too much pain on him.

Steve was shouting, then, urging everyone back through the tunnels, and you turned quickly and began to run. You made sure to keep behind the kids, letting Steve take the front with the map, though it wasn’t too hard to keep behind now that pain was shooting up your side every time your foot pounded on the earth beneath you. You tried to focus on the adrenaline, letting it carry you through the tunnels back to the entrance, but all the exertions of the day were getting to you. All of a sudden, just as you thought you might be about to collapse, Mike toppled over in front of you with a shout.

You caught up and kneeled down beside him as he screamed for help; his foot was tangled up in a vine, but when you grabbed for it and tried to maneuver his foot out, the vine twisted and tightened its grasp. You thought of your dad, then, how he’d kneeled beside you in the bathroom and described the tendrils that had wrapped around him, drawing him into the earth deep in the tunnels. You cursed and shouted for Steve, hoping he would be able to cut the vine off before it got to that point.

The others came running back at yours and Mike’s shouts, and Steve grabbed his nailed baseball bat from where it was poking out the top of his backpack. He quickly swung it down at the vine, hacking away at it with a horrible squelching sound until the end that was wrapped around Mike’s ankle went limp and loosened its grip. Mike scrambled back and you and Lucas helped him back up to his feet.

“We gotta go,” Steve urged, and you took a brief moment to catch your breath before you were turning to follow again. Just as you all began to move, however, a distinctive snarling growl sounded from the dark. Your breath caught in your throat, and a second later, your flashlights illuminated a single demodog blocking your path. It seemed to be considering you all, trying to figure out the best course of action, just as you were doing the same. Steve was raising his baseball bat in the air, but before he could do anything, Dustin pushed forwards from behind you and slowly stepped towards the monster.

“Hey, Dart,” he said to it, sounding as if he was trying to calm it.

“Dustin, what the hell,” you shout-whispered to him as everyone else echoed similar sentiments. “Get back!”

“Guys, trust me,” he said, his eyes trained on Dart, though he raised a calming hand to the rest of you as well. You didn’t want to urge him back any louder and risk aggravating Dart now that he was so close to it, but you were panicking now. This is exactly what you told them not to do.

“Hey, it’s me,” he said, crouching down to Dart’s level. “It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.”

The demodog slowly stepped closer to Dustin and your heart began pounding so loudly that you wondered if the others could hear it. “Remember me?” Dustin asked. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Will you let us pass?”

At Dustin’s words, Dart opened its jaws wide and loudly snarled. You stepped forward, ready to push Dustin out of the way to safety, but the boy didn’t seem concerned. Steve, similarly, had raised his bat and was ready to lunge forward and swing, but Dart didn’t make any further movements. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do,” Dustin apologized, as if in conversation with Dart. You shot a confused look at Steve, wondering why Dart wasn’t attacking and if Dustin had lost his mind, but he just shrugged, looking similarly lost.

Dustin slowly reached his arm behind him into his backpack, and you watched as he fished out a candy bar. “You hungry?” he asked, gently waving the chocolate at Dart. He carefully unwrapped it and placed it on the ground in between himself and Dart.

“He’s insane,” Lucas whispered, before Steve and Mike urged him to stay quiet. Dustin and Dart were almost face-to-face now, and you couldn’t risk anything accidentally provoking the demodog.

“It’s our favorite, see? Nougat,” Dustin gently said. Dart tentatively lowered its head and began eating the chocolate, and as it did so, Dustin raised a hand behind him and started gesturing to the rest of you, urging you all to sneak past. Steve moved first, stepping carefully but quickly past the two of them, and you and kids followed his lead. Dustin continued to speak softly to Dart, unwrapping another candy bar and leaving it on the floor, before he stood up and slowly moved to join you all.

“Goodbye, buddy,” he said, and though it baffled you, you could hear the sadness in his voice as he left Dart. You placed a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile before urging him on. Dart was the only demodog nearby at the moment, but it wouldn’t be long before more arrived.

The brief pause had allowed you to catch your breath, and knowing how close you were to the exit, you felt your legs carry you even quicker down the tunnels. Your wounded side was still throbbing at every step, but you forced yourself to ignore the pain, you were so close to getting to the rope - and then the tunnels started to shake. A deep rumble sounded from all around you and you had to brace yourself on the wall to stay upright, and for a moment you thought the ground was going to give out beneath you. Then, over the rumble, a snarling roar. It wasn’t just Dart this time, though, you could tell it was the whole pack. It was distant enough that you couldn’t tell which end of the tunnel it was coming from, but you knew there was no time to wait and figure it out.

“They’re coming!” Mike shouted as you all burst into a run again. You were panting, and your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest, but as you turned a corner, and then another, the dangling rope came into view, illuminated by the light of the car’s headlights above ground.

“Come on!” Steve yelled as you readied yourself to help the kids up the rope. “Quicker, let’s go!”

Max jumped and grabbed the rope as high as she could, and you wrapped your arms around her legs to hoist her further and quicken her ascent. The rumbling and roaring was getting closer, and the pain from your wound was almost crippling now with the exertion of lifting the kids, but you had no time to stop. Max was up now, Lucas joining her with Steve’s aid, but as the two of you helped to hoist Mike up, you felt a blinding stab of pain from your waist. It took the breath out of you and you had to let go of Mike’s legs, doubling over and wrenching your eyes shut as you clutched your wound. Not now, you thought.

You heard Steve curse and urge Dustin up the rope, shouting at the rest of the kids above-ground to pull him up. A second later you felt his hands heavy on your shoulders, and he was saying something to you, but you couldn’t make it out over the rumbling and the screeching that was getting closer and closer. He pulled you up to your feet, looking at you with fear in his eyes only briefly before his head whipped to the side. You followed his gaze and saw the long, stretching shadows of a pack of demodogs projected against the wall at the end of the tunnel. This was it, there was no time for either of you to clamber out of the tunnel without the other staying behind alone. You turned your gazes back to each other, and it seemed he knew this as well. You wouldn’t let him face them alone, though. You couldn’t leave him to die down here.

You heard the pounding of the demodogs’ feet as they rounded the corner, and Steve gave you one last look before he readied his bat and prepared to fight. You heard the kids above you screaming your names, urging you both to climb back out, but you didn’t have time to look back up at them before the monsters came rushing towards you. Everything that happened next happened so fast that you almost didn’t have time to process it. The horde of monsters came into view, galloping straight towards you, and you thought, this is it, this is how I die. Steve prepared to swing his bat as they came into reach, but when you closed your eyes and readied yourself for whatever was about to happen - nothing did.

You opened your eyes again in confusion just as you felt Steve’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you close to him, close enough that you were entirely pressed up against his front, and your hand instinctively came to clutch at his shoulder. Something brushed past your leg, and as you looked back, you saw that the demodogs were running straight past the both of you as if you were just any other obstacle in their path. You didn’t dare move while they rushed past you, your body tense and taught, not even breathing.

Then, after only a few seconds, the stampede was gone. You could hear the thunder of their feet as they continued to race down the tunnels; you waited, tense, in case any more came around the corner, but you and Steve were alone. You pulled the bandana down from your face, you needed air, and you breathed out a holy shit as you did so. You could feel Steve heaving a breath as well, and you realized you were still pressed tightly against Steve’s body, his arm still wrapped around you. You swung both of your arms around his neck, and you heard the clatter of his bat hitting the ground as he dropped it to hug you in return. For a moment you just breathed together, your face buried in his neck as you let it sink in: you were alive.

“I thought you said no heroics?” Steve said into your ear, still out of breath, but a smile in his voice. You laughed at his question and you felt slightly delirious, but the movement of your chest sent another shot of pain out from your waist. Your laugh abruptly cut off with a gasp and he pushed you back from his embrace, ushering you towards the rope.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here,” he said, and as you raised your arms to grab the rope with a wince, he crouched down and lifted you up with his hands on the back of your thighs. Absurdly, despite everything, you felt a heat rise in your cheeks, and you shifted your focus instead to the faces of the four thirteen-year-olds staring down at you with shared looks of amazement that you’d made it out alive. Lucas and Max were tugging on the rope to help you out, and you thankfully only had to hoist yourself up a couple of times before you made it to the surface. You breathed a thank you before moving to the side to let them help Steve out, kneeling in the earth and bracing yourself on your arms as you recovered.

Steve clambered up and out of the hole with a grunt, tugging his goggles and bandana off as he stood up. “What the hell just happened?” Max asked. She looked between you and Steve, but you had no explanation or ideas to offer, and neither did he.

“It was El,” Mike said. “It had to have been. She’s closing-“

He was cut off by a blindingly bright light that had you shielding your eyes, turning your head away when not even your hand was enough to block it out. It died out again after a few moments, and when you turned back, you realized that it was the headlights from Billy’s car illuminating on their own.

“She’s closing the gate.”

Chapter Text

The radio in El’s room was playing a jangly ‘60s Christmas song, tinny through the speakers. You thought it might have belonged to your mom and dad when they were younger, consigned to storage in the cabin a decade ago before being dusted off when El and your dad renovated the place. You were sat facing each other on her bed, cross-legged, your socked feet tucked into your legs to preserve some warmth. You’d dragged one of the space heaters into her room, its low hum and warm, orange glow filling the room, but it was old and didn’t warm the space as well as it used to. She was probably slightly colder than you, though; you were in jeans and a thick sweater, she was in the dress you’d bought her for her dance.

It had been just over a month since the junkyard and Billy and the tunnels. You and Steve had sworn the kids to secrecy about what happened in the tunnels; you didn’t want your dad to blow a gasket when he heard you’d risked your life to keep the demodogs away from him and El, and Steve didn’t want your dad to kill him for letting you and the kids endanger yourself. Dustin had pointed out that you had all kind of forced him into helping, but you knew that your dad wouldn’t see it that way no matter how much Steve or anyone else plead his case. You had a feeling the kids had let it slip to Eleven, but seeing as Steve was still alive and well and you hadn’t been grounded for life, you figured that your dad was still none the wiser.

Three weeks ago, you had started the process of moving into the cabin. You’d broached the idea to your dad, not wanting to return to the set-up where he split his time between two houses - two daughters - while you both tried to pretend like it wasn’t fracturing your relationship further. He was hesitant at first, reiterating his reasoning that having you both living in the cabin would bring too much attention to the both of you, but he conceded when you pointed out that it was far more suspicious for him to be traveling back and forth. Besides, selling the trailer would give him a little more money to parent two teenage daughters. He’d helped you move your furniture a few days after.

There was one room in the cabin that had been left unoccupied. It was once used for overflow storage when the small basement was filled to the brim, but it was big enough to fit your queen size bed (if it was shoved against the wall), a short dresser (you had to sacrifice some clothes you never wore; you gave them to El), and a desk and chair (currently piled high with books and homework that you really did mean to get done over the weekend). Last week, you’d brought over a couple of boxes full of posters, books, old magazines, records and tapes, and trinkets you’d picked up over the years. It was slowly looking less like the old dilapidated cabin that you’d spent summer weekends in and more like home.

Living in the cabin was an adjustment. El and your dad had clearly started some of their own traditions, like waffles every morning and morse code messages whenever he was late coming home. It almost felt like you were intruding by moving in, but you tried to ignore those thoughts when they came. You didn’t want to go back to the horrible tension that had built up between you and your dad; you wanted to make an effort to be a father and daughter that knew how to communicate when it wasn’t just a life or death situation. It would take time, you knew, but you wanted to try.

You were learning how to live with El, too. Because you didn’t know each other well, the first few days were just very… polite, you supposed. She didn’t know how to act around you, nor you around her, so you kept to small smiles and pleases and thank yous. It hadn’t taken long for the two of you to find common ground, though. The three of you had been watching Jeopardy one evening, El entranced by the television as she often was, your dad shouting out answers and grumbling when they were wrong, and you focused on the textbook in your lap as you tuned out the distractions to concentrate on your English homework. You would have got it done quicker in your room, but you enjoyed the company.

By the time you’d finished, a couple of hours had passed and Jeopardy had finished in favor of the nightly news. You had lifted your head and realized that your dad was snoring, lying back in his recliner, with an unfinished beer still in hand. It was such a typical image for him that you had huffed a quiet laugh to yourself, about to pack away your textbook and go to bed, before you heard a giggle from El in her armchair across the room. She must have heard your laugh, because she had caught your eye and was hiding a grin behind her hand. It wasn’t even a particularly funny sight, but the shared laughter made you laugh even more, until the both of you were laughing so loudly that your dad awoke with a start. The look of confusion and then consternation on his face had set you both off even more, until he was grumbling and trudging off to bed, leaving the two of you still gasping for air in the living room. Since then, you would often exchange surreptitious glances or eyerolls with El whenever your dad did or said something particularly cantankerous. You were still learning how to be a sister again, but for now, it felt almost normal.

After the rest of the kids had told El about the Snow Ball, you hadn’t expected your dad to give in quite so quickly and let her go. He gave her conditions though: he would stick around (outside, you’d pushed) in case anything happened, and the moment anything seemed strange or suspicious, she would promise to leave. Because you weren’t able to take her shopping for a dress, you bought a few options at a store in town that you thought she might like, deciding to return the ones she didn’t like. She’d hesitantly tried each one on before opting for a charcoal grey dress with puffed sleeves and a red belt. You’d smiled at how she beamed in the mirror, looking for once like a regular teenage girl. Now, you sat together on her bed, applying the finishing touches to her makeup. You had brought in your makeup bag and laid out everything in front of her, asking what colors she liked best. She’d looked a bit overwhelmed at the choice, and frankly you had very little experience applying makeup to anyone that wasn’t yourself, so you’d opted for a dab of blush on her cheeks, some lip gloss, and a few swipes of mascara.

Just as you were applying a touch more blush to even out the color, your dad knocked on the door. “We’re late,” he said, disgruntled, and you rolled your eyes. “Let’s get moving!”

“I said five minutes,” you called back. He’d been badgering you both to get a move on as if he was the one eager to go.

You shared a smile with El before leaning back to assess your work. “Okay, I think we’re ready,” you said, and she hopped off the bed to look herself over in the mirror. She turned around and beamed that earnest smile at you before quickly enveloping you in a hug, her arms tight around your waist. You hadn’t hugged anyone since that night in the tunnels (since Steve, you thought), and for a second you prepared yourself for the pain that the pressure of her arms around your wound would inflict. It was healing now, though; the scars were dark and wrinkled, but they were healing nonetheless, and there was no pain.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around her shoulders, careful not to press her head against you and risk ruining the makeup you just applied. As you held her, you thought about Sara. It had been many years since your sister had passed away by now, and you didn’t think about her as much as you used to. Sometimes, when a memory flashed into your head, you felt guilty that it was the first time in a while that you’d thought about her. Now, though, you felt your heart clench as you realized that you never got to do this with her - help her get ready for a school dance, or a date, or a birthday dinner. It made you frown suddenly and tears pricked in your eyes.

As El pulled back, she noticed the look on your face, and her smile dropped in confusion. You quickly fixed a smile on your face, but she had noticed. “Sad?” she asked, looking concerned.

“No, no,” you assured. “I’m okay. Let’s get going before he explodes, huh?” She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push it. You couldn’t tell her the reason why you were upset. You didn’t want her to feel like she was a replacement for Sara, either as a sister or as a daughter. She was her own person - and more than that, still figuring out how to be her own person. Your sadness had to be your own, for now.

-

The truck jolted as you hit the brakes and came to stop outside the Hawkins Middle School gym. You turned to your dad in the passenger seat with a grin on your face; you had asked him to let you drive El to the dance since you had received your driving licence two weeks ago, arguing that you wanted to keep up your practice when you could since you didn’t have a car of your own yet. He’d reluctantly agreed, but he looked like he was regretting his decision now that you’d arrived at the dance. You were just happy that you’d only stalled once on the way over.

The three of you exited the car, and after giving you both a brief hug, El was nervously walking off into the gym. “Have a good time!” you called after her, and she turned around briefly to send you a small wave. You turned to your dad and noticed the worried look on his face.

“She’ll be fine,” you said, and he huffed, as if he was annoyed to be worrying so much. “It’s just a middle school dance. She’ll shuffle around awkwardly for an hour then go home.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replied, fiddling with a pack of cigarettes. He hesitated before he spoke again. “I want to be a good dad. To the both of you.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. It felt strange hearing your dad say those words to you, acknowledging something that always felt safer going unspoken - but this was how it felt, you supposed, to try. It was always going to feel uncomfortable at the beginning. You realized you should say something to him quickly before he felt discouraged from talking like this again.

“You are,” you said. It was more complicated than that, but you realized that you wanted him to hear it. “You keep us safe.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. “There’s more to it than that though, isn’t there?”

You didn’t know what to say to his question, if it even really was a question. There was more to it than that, but you didn’t know exactly what it was. You were both quiet, then, but it didn’t feel awkward. You looked back to the doors of the gym, and this time you noticed the cherry red BMW parked outside the entrance, a few feet in front of you.

“Hey, would you mind taking the truck around to the parking lot?” you asked suddenly, turning back to your dad and pressing the car keys into his hand. “I’m still not too confident at, you know - backing into a parking space. I’ll meet you over there.”

He narrowed his eyes at you in suspicion, but you just blinked up at him, and he huffed before putting a cigarette in his mouth and opening the driver’s side door. You waited until he drove away before walking over to Steve’s car, but just as you were figuring out how to approach him (would it be weird to knock on the window? should I crouch down or lean over? no, definitely lean over, who crouches to knock on a car window?), the door opened and he stepped out.

“Oh,” you said in surprise, and stopped in your step.

“Oh, hey,” he said, surprised at your reaction. “Sorry, I thought you were coming over to-“

“No, I was, I just wasn’t expecting-“

“Right, right,” he said, and there was a touch of awkwardness for a second as you both searched for something to say. “I can get back in the car?”

You laughed, grateful for the break in the tension. He closed the door with a smile and walked around to meet you at the back of the car, leaning against the trunk with his arms crossed casually, and you joined him. He was wearing a red sweater that you hadn’t seen before, though you supposed you never really spent much time looking at him or his wardrobe before last month. It looked good on him. You did remember the jeans, though.

“You drove Eleven here?” he asked, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Yep,” you said, and fished out your new licence from the pocket of your jeans, presenting it to him. He took it from your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a beat, and brought it closer to his eyes.

“Wow, very nice,” he said, only slightly teasing. “Do they know about the mailbox?”

You snatched it back, though you grinned as you did so. “No, and they never will.” You flipped it back and forth in your hands for a moment, fidgeting, before something you occurred to you. “Hang on, why are you here?”

“Oh, I gave Dustin a ride,” Steve said. He seemed embarrassed to admit it, but your stomach flipped at the care he was showing for the boy.

“That’s sweet,” you said, looking up at him with a small smile, but he was steadfastly staring at his shoes. You could see the edges of a smile grow on his face at your words, though.

“Yeah, well,” he straightened up, regaining some of his usual cockiness, “the kid needed some more guidance on how to talk to girls on the way here anyway.”

It was baffling to you that you’d reached the point where you found his posturing endearing. “Did he now?” you asked with a teasing smile. “And you’ve taken it upon yourself to tutor him?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“I just didn’t really see the educational value in the lesson I sat in on, is all.”

“What, you think I can’t talk to girls?” he asked. Your smiles had grown slowly as you looked at each other and continued the back-and-forth, and you felt giddy all of a sudden. You shrugged in response to his question. You both knew he could, given his track record, but you were enjoying playing this game. “I’m talking to you,” he pointed out.

“Okay,” you said with a laugh as your stomach squirmed, “but I don’t count.”

“What?” he asked, a look of confusion on his face. “Why wouldn’t you count?”

“Because you’re not - you know,” you stammered. Why was he making you explain this? “You’re not, like… pursuing me.” Pursuing? You sounded like an old woman.

“Oh,” he said, with pink cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I’m not.” There was something you couldn’t quite figure out in the tone of his voice. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and neither of you were looking at each other. You were both quiet for a few moments and you wracked your brain to try to think of something to say, but you couldn’t.

“But, you know, if I was,” Steve said suddenly, and you looked up to find he was already looking at you. His eyes were a dark, dark brown under the night sky, and his eyelashes looked so long and pretty, you thought. “I could, like… totally sweep you off your feet.” He spoke with some bravado, but jokingly now.

“Oh, you could?” you asked with a laugh. You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding in your chest, because it was booming to your own ears.

“Oh, yeah. Big time,” he stated seriously, eyebrows raised. “Wouldn’t even know what hit you.” You bit your lip as you smiled to stop a giddy laugh from coming out, and you thought you saw his eyes dart down to your lips for just a second.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you said without thinking, then realized how that sounded. When. Steve looked taken aback for a moment as the words sunk in for him, or maybe he was just reacting to the panic on your face. He opened his mouth, and you scrambled to remove yourself from the situation before he could let you down gently, or whatever it was he was about to say. “Um, I should probably get back to my dad, he’ll think I’ve ditched him. I’ll see you at school though?”

You had already started walking away as you spoke, backwards so that you could still face him. “Yeah,” he stammered, looking lost. “See you at school.”

You gave him a parting smile and turned, gathering your jacket around you as you suddenly felt how cold it was. You hurried away towards the parking lot, only hearing the slam of Steve’s car door and his engine starting a minute later. A smile crept over your face as you walked, even as you kicked yourself for ending that conversation in such a strange way. You’d been trying not to think about him too much over the past few weeks; he’d only just broken up with Nancy, and you felt weird about leaning fully into your growing crush on him so soon, even if you weren’t that close with her. Aside from anything else, though, you didn’t want to get your hopes up that he might feel the same way. His social standing might have taken a hit recently, but he was still Steve Harrington. You hadn’t run in the same circles since middle school, and you were only hanging out now because you were one of a handful of people in Hawkins that knew what a demodog was.

Still, though. There was a part of you that couldn’t help but sneak glances at him during your shared History class, a part of you that told yourself there was no harm in thinking about how soft his hair looked as long as you weren’t going to do anything about it. So your smile grew as you walked, and you thought about Steve and his brown eyes and how he laughed when you teased him. You thought about the cabin, how it looked at night when the lights were on and it glowed a warm orange nestled among the trees. And you thought about your dad and El, and all the mornings with syrupy waffles and coffee that you still had yet to share together.