His heart racing, Hopper could hear the blood pumping in his ears as he ran through the twisted corridors of the Lab. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he swiftly maneuvered the facility be had just broken into in search of the missing boy.
"Will?" His desperate calls echoed off of the cold tile walls.
"Will?"
In the midst of his frantic haste, he had gotten turned around. The chilling corridors all seemed the same and a new wave of panic flooded him. Taking a deep breath, the chief tried his best to recompose himself. He came across a crossroads, it resembled a four-way intersection that one may find on an ominous back road in the country. He stared ahead and sighed.
Each corridor was identical to the next. Cold and unwelcoming.
"You gotta be shittin' me." He growled under his breath.
Grabbing his bearings, the man kept straight and hoped for the best.
The hallway stretched for what felt like miles, when finally, after a few turns, it came to a dead end. He looked around and noticed this was quite different than the others.
The chief's instincts that had earned him the title in the first place suggested to him that the small corner of the facility had been long forgotten. This particular area had been neglected the upkeep that was evident in the rest of the laboratory. Ahead of him lay two doors; an old broom closet, labeled as such, and a rather ominous looking door, with an accompanying window with a glimpse inside an untidy room.
This particular room piqued his interest. The door was closed, though the handle seemed to be broken, the room ajar. Hopper cautiously stepped toward the door, reaching his arm out and slowly pushed it open.
Hopper stepped inside the cluttered room, his heart racing, not knowing what to expect. It was clear that the room was designed to have a greater purpose, but had been hastily abandoned and eventually forgotten. It seemed that just about every item in the room, much like the rest of the facility, was made of steel. From the counters to the filing cabinets with half-opened drawers. His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as he stepped inside and around the steel table to the cabinet on the opposite end of the room.
Knowing he had little time, he shone his flashlight into the drawer and he quickly rifled through the filing cabinet waiting for something that might catch his eye. Hopper sighed in disappointment when he found nothing useful. He began to shut the filing cabinet in defeat when he caught a small glimpse of a peculiar label shoved all the way to the back, almost like it was meant to be forgotten.
Tilting his head in curiosity, Hop pulled the drawer out as far as it would go and even then, the man had to reach for the file. It a wonder he caught it in the first place. He pulled it from the drawer and examined the front with haste.
The label on the edge of the manilla folder had been scratched out and written over many times that it was now indistinguishable. The front cover was all blank, except for a few words that had been scribbled in black ink.
SUBJECT 009; THE MISSING EXPERIMENT
The familiar words sparked something in Hopper. With no time to waste he shoved the file into his jacket and closed the cabinet, making a run for the door.
Fortunately, Hopper was able to retrace his steps back to the where he had gotten lost, this time making a right turn down the hallway. He continued his calls for Will when suddenly, he found himself in a room, not that different from the strange room he found himself in earlier. Only this room, contained a bed.
And a security camera, which happened to be the first thing Hopper noticed when he entered.
He stepped closer to the bed, the light of the flashlight landing on a small stuffed animal, that was placed neatly at the top of the bed near the pillow. Frowning, Hopper moved his flashlight to the wall above the bed, a small piece of printer paper had been taped to the wall.
It was a drawing, clearly done by a child.
There were two people depicted in the drawing, in the form of stick figures. What appeared to be a tall man standing next to a smaller stick figure who he could only assume to be artist. The child wore a frown, and they faced a table that appeared to have a cat on it. Hopper almost didn't notice the words above each stick figure.
Above the child, was the number eleven. And above the man, written in messy handwriting was a single word.
Papa.
|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
The five of us were scattered around Mike's basement. El was curled up on the couch, most likely physically exhausted from contacting Will. Mike was sitting at the opposite end of the couch by El's feet, concentration etched in his features. Lucas occupied the lounge chair deep in thought while Dustin resides at the bottom of the stairs.
"What was Will saying?" Mike wondered.
He began reciting Will's words from earlier in an attempt to recall the only clue we might have that he might be alive.
"Like home... Like home... but dark?" He stood up from the couch, hands still in his jacket pockets as he began pacing the room.
"And empty." Lucas pressed his intertwined fingers against his forehead, his eyes closed deep in thought.
My leg bounced up and down at an alarming rate, a nervous habit I picked up at a young age as I spoke up, my eyes still focused on one random corner of the room.
"And cold."
Dustin sighed.
"Empty and cold. Wait, did he say cold?" He looked around the room, seeming to second guess himself.
"I don't know, I think? The stupid radio kept going in and out." Lucas sighed.
"He did. He said cold." I muttered, unable to shake the haunting voice of my friend's terrified cries for help.
"Like home." Mike repeated once more. "Like his house?"
"Or maybe like Hawkins." Lucas offered eagerly.
"Upside Down." El muttered.
"What'd she say?" Lucas asked.
"Upside Down." Mike said, a hint of astonishment in his voice as something seemed to have clicked.
"What?" Lucas repeated.
Mike walked over to the table I sat at and looked at the overturned game board. It was then, I recalled what El had been telling us the other night, with Will's game piece.
My mouth fell into a silent gasp as everything began falling into place. I turned myself back around in the chair and looked at the board.
"Upside down." I breathed.
Mike had taken a seat across from me, both hands on the game board while the other boys got up and joined us at the table.
Mike began flipping the board over multiple times as he explained.
"When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember? Upside down. Dark. Empty. Cold." He finished, locking eyes with me as he said the last word.
"Do you understand what he's talking about?" Lucas asked me and Dustin.
We replied simultaneously.
"Yes."
"No."
We both looked at each other with confusion and a hint of annoyance for a split second before dismissing the thought.
"Come on guys, think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?" I offered, gesturing all around me as I spoke.
Lucas shrugged.
"Yeah. And he wasn't there."
"But what if he was there?" I offered, eyebrows raised as I looked between my brother and Lucas. "What if we just couldn't see him? What if he was on the other side?"
The boys, aside from Mike, of course, seemed to consider this. Mike jumped back in as he flipped the board right side up once more.
"What if this is Hawkins and..." he flipped it back. "This is where Will is? The Upside Down."
Dustin seemed to perk up as he connected his own dots.
"Like the Vale of Shadows."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Dustin slammed Mike's collection of Dungeons and Dragons guides and spell books on the table and began flipping through the various guidebooks. After a few moments he stopped on the page he had been looking for and began to read aloud.
"The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters."
As he read the next sentence, Mike, Lucas and I all shared the same, unsettled look, and a chill ran down my spine.
"It is right next to you, and you don't even see it." Dustin finished, and looked up, sharing our looks of concern.
Mike spoke up.
"An alternate dimension."
It seemed I was not the only one who was having difficulty handling the information.
"But... how... how do we get there?" Lucas asked worriedly.
"We cast Shadow Walk." Dustin said.
"In real life, dummy." Lucas deadpanned.
"We can't shadow walk, but... maybe she can." Dustin offered.
We all look to a drowsy looking El.
"Do you know how we get there? To the Upside Down?" Mike asked her gently.
She shook her head softly and we all felt the heavy ache of disappointment. Some of us were better at hiding it.
"Oh, my God!" Lucas sighed dramatically.
I tuned out the bickering that began between the boys when I gestured for the handbook and Dustin complied, sliding it over to me.
Maybe, just maybe, there must be something in one of these books that could help us or even give us an idea. I began flipping through the spell book and found myself lingering on my characters class, the Druid. More specifically, the Druid spell pages, getting lost in thought.
My eyes scanned the pages, my hope and curiosity had bubbled down to desperation and boredom as I read the all too familiar page. This time, with a new lense.
I recognized the many spells I had used in previous campaigns; Produce Flame had gotten me out of a pinch with a mimic once, I smiled at the memory. And of course, Plant Growth - one of my personal favorites - Will would always tease me about my love for plants carried on into my character.
I soon found myself unable to tear my attention away from one of the lower class spells I always used, Cure Wounds. Something in the back of my mind kept gnawing at me. I bore my eyes into the page as I reread the words over and over again.
"You or a creature you touch regains a number of Hit Points equal to 1d8 + your Spellcasting ability modifier. This spell has no effect on Undead or constructs."
It dawned on me. That night we saw "Will". It was just moments before we heard the sirens, I realized my cut had mysteriously vanished. I had immediately gotten distracted when we heard the sirens and then everything happened one after the other that I had forgotten.
'How could I possibly have forgotten something like that?'
I thought about El. A week ago I never believed it possible to move things with your mind, but yet El could. It made me wonder.
I shook my head, clearly, I was grasping at straws.
'Remember what mom said?' I asked myself, some part of me desperate to bury the ridiculous notion growing in the back of my mind. 'My body has always been faster than most medicines.'
I broke myself out of my thoughts to see Dustin and Lucas packing up. Suddenly realizing how tired I was, I happily joined in and grabbed my jacket from the chair and we said our goodbyes.
A//N: I would like to take a couple of seconds to rant about my awesome parents Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper. What amazing folks they are!
|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
"LET ME OUT OF HERE!"
Joyce fought tooth and nail against the cold restraints securing her in place. She had quickly grown tired with the sight around her, the isolation of the interrogation room in Hawkins Lab. After leaving the children in the care of Jonathan and Nancy, she and Hopper had unsuccessfully attempted to break into Hawkins Lab to enter the gate and find her missing boy. And now she found herself here, waiting around for someone to show as if she had all the time in the world.
As if Will did.
For fucks sake, she needed to get out of here! She needed to save her baby.
"SOMEBODY, PLEASE!" She winced against the sharp metal threatening to cut her skin at her attempts to pry herself free. "LET ME OUT!"
Finally, after far too long the sound of the door unlocking pulls her attention to the entryway. She caught the figure of an older man slinking through the crack in the door and into the shadows where he remains, his back turned to her.
Leisurely, he strides to the far corner of the room, still lurking in the dark when he turns to face her. Moments pass and even in the dark Joyce can make out his glistening, beady eyes locked on her when he finally speaks.
His voice was hollow and dark as if this man had never seen or been capable of anything other than darkness.
"Your son." He says, turning up the dial and boiling her blood with just two words. "We know you've been in contact with him."
The temptation to give in to the blind fury for this man for his foolish gall of acting as if she didn't have the right to save her son, was strong.
"You have to let me—"
"When," he cuts her off, inching towards the edge of the shadows. "and how did you make contact with him?"
A million thoughts race through her mind, each demanding priority. But the only thing she could pull from the masses was,
"What?"
He hums thoughtfully.
"Six."
Once again, she is blindsided.
"What?"
"Six," he states again, coming to stand before the chair opposite her and sheds his coat. "Six people have been taken this week."
He drapes his coat on the back of the empty chair.
"This... thing that took your son... we don't really understand it. But its behavior is unpredictable." With a small smile, he thinks again of his children that have escaped his grip. He pulls out the chair and lowers himself into the light as he takes a seat, continuing. "Like all animals... it eats."
Joyce cast her head down to her lap and shakes her head wearing a sour, disbelieving look as she faces the man before her. She knew all too well who this man was. She had so from Hopper, she had heard so from Becky Ives.
But she knew him as the man responsible for the horror unleashed upon Hawkins. The man responsible for her son's "death."
Dr. Martin Brenner.
But he didn't seem to believe himself responsible. And if he did, he didn't mind lying to her about it.
"It will take more sons." He says. "More daughters. I want to save them."
His lips stretch into an odd, unsettled line that was meant to be a smile but it never once reached his eyes.
"I want to save your son."
More lies.
"But I can't do that. Not without your help."
Joyce had enough of the bullshit. She had had enough of him. She leaned forward with an eery calm that had washed over her.
"Stop."
His calculated eyes never once closed, never once blinked. He just sat frozen, watching her. Joyce almost had to laugh.
"I know who you are. I know what you've done." She shook her head, disgusted. "You took my boy from me! You left him in that place to die! You faked his death!"
He remains unblinking. Unfazed. It was revolting to Joyce, he revolted her.
"We had a funeral. We buried him. And now you're asking for my help?"
The fleeting urge to laugh returned.
It was laughable. The thought that anything — anything — including an alternate dimension, a freakish monster, or! the beast that took her son would stop her from getting her boy back was laughable.
And it was Joyce Byers's greatest pleasure to look this freakish monster in the eyes and give him the only answer she had for him.
"Go to hell."
And Joyce meant it. Every word. She knew she had the upper hand, even in cuffs, cause she was willing to do whatever she needed to to make that happen.
Even if that meant dragging him down there herself.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Hopper's body collapsed on the concrete floors of the interrogation room. He had been met with yet another surge of electricity from the taser gun.
A groan escaped Jim Hopper's lips as he sat huddled into the corner of the room, three agents surrounding him - a woman with short blonde hair and a stern frown stood towering over him. As did an equally intimidating man standing beside her, and a third, balding man who held the taser gun firmly in his hand. Hopper couldn't help but wince from the pain and the foul metallic taste on his tongue that he couldn't shake.
His breaths were ragged and he looked between the three agents - the second man spoke.
"Okay, now what do you know?"
"I'm sorry." Hopper panted. "Did I stutter?"
The man and woman shared a firm look, and Hopper continued to speak. Confidence rose with every word he spoke.
"Everything."
Hopper felt his entire body suddenly convulse when he felt the searing pain of the taser gun stab his upper back.
He cried out in pain, doubling over and spitting up.
"What do you know?" The woman asked coldly.
Hopper panted once more, making eye contact with the woman.
"I know you do experiments on kidnapped little kids, whose parents' brains you've turned to mush. And I know you went a little too far this time and you messed up in a big way."
He never broke eye contact with the woman, who had huffed out in annoyance once or twice as he continued to ramble on.
"I mean, you really messed up, didn't you? Big time? That's why you're trying to cover your tracks."
The two agents suddenly avoided eye contact as Hopper proceeded to list several of the horrible offenses they had committed.
"You killed Benny Hammond, you faked Will Byers' death. You made it look like that little girl just ran away. See, I told you. I know everything."
"All right, who are you working with?" The man asked, anger showing through his clenched jaw.
"Nobody. But I did give all this over to my friend at the Times. He's gonna blow this thing wide open." Hopper's chuckles were quickly replaced with groans of agony when he felt the searing pain of the taser yet again.
Taking advantage of his weakened state, the two men grabbed Hopper by the arms and pulled him into the chair.
The balding man with the taser bent over and got close in Hopper's face.
"You're just a junkie. A small town cop who had a bad week."
The other man grabbed a syringe off of a metal tray as the balding man spoke.
"Took one too many pills this time." The man stepped aside and the woman stepped into view, arms crossed.
"You made a mistake coming back here."
"No, I didn't." Hopper muttered. "Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna let me and Joyce Byers go... you're gonna give us anything we need, and we're gonna find her son. And then we're gonna forget that any of this ever happened."
"Oh, is that right?" The woman asked.
Hopper held his cold gaze, never wavering.
"Yeah. That's right."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
We were all sat on the bleachers. Mike had a very exhausted and cold El leaning against his shoulder, a towel wrapped around her shoulders. Dustin sat next to Mike and Lucas and I occupied the other bench behind them.
After getting El out of the bath, Joyce and the chief left us with Jonathan and Nancy to go find the gate to get Will.
Meanwhile, we were all still sitting here growing impatient and a little worried as to why Jonathan and Nancy stepped out and haven't come back yet. Mike seemed as worried as I did.
His leg bounced up and down in worry and I sat and stared as I wrung my hands together in a nervous habit.
My attention was ripped away to Mike when, without warning, he jumped to his feet and left the gym calling for his sister and Jonathan.
Moments later, he came back, walking fairly quickly towards us.
"They're gone."
"What?"
"Nancy and Jonathan. His car's gone."
I stand up quickly at the news.
"So, they just up and left us?" I ask angrily.
"They're probably just sucking face somewhere."
My face scrunched up in disgust at the comment and look to my brother incredulously.
"They would never leave us alone for anything like that knowing we are in danger."
"Y/n's right. They would never do that. No way!"
"Did they go with the Chief?" Dustin asked.
"I don't know!" Mike said defensively.
"No." El said quietly.
"What? Did you see them? Do you know where they went?"
We all looked to her hopefully.
"Yes."
"Well, where did they go?" I asked frantically.
There was a small pause before she spoke, making my stomach plunge.
"Demogorgon."
|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
Hopper's attention was brought to the door when it slowly opened. A man with white hair, who he had recognized to be Martin Brenner, stepped in. His feet scraping against the floor lazily, indicating his lack of urgency, and he turned to lock the door behind him.
He took one look at Hopper before reaching into his jacket pocket, grabbing a pack of smokes and walked over to the man handing him the cigarettes. Hopper gladly accepted them and took a cigarette out and placed it between his lips. Brenner stood off to the side, hand in his pockets as Hopper lit the small stick of nicotine.
"Where are the children?"
Hopper took a deep elongated breath before speaking.
"You gotta give me your word." He muttered staring ahead at the brick wall in front of him. "Nobody's ever gonna find out about this. And those other four kids, those boys — all of them — your gonna leave them alone. I don’t care if you think he's yours, he's not. He's a got a family, he's a registered citizen. You can't touch him. You can't get away with it, legally at least, but you know know don't you?"
There was a pause as Hopper drew in another breath of the cigarette. He never bothered to look up at Brenner but he didn't need to to know his words angered him.
"Then I'll tell you," he continued. "Tell you where your other little science experiment is."
Brenner watched the man from behind, prepared to negotiate. He found a bitter taste on his tongue at the mention of the demands regarding the second Henderson boy. A small scowl etched his face before it slowly melted away, the gears began turning in his brain. He circled Hopper, knowing he had to choose his words carefully.
"If you give me what I want, I assure you, the children will be safe." He said with a twinkle in his eye.
It's 4 in the fucking morning and I just remembered that time I was like, I wonder what Nine's nickname would have been if she wasn't y/n henderson - aka, a name that could be equal to El for Eleven and I thought well, obviously Nina, right?
S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate- [Pt. 5]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.
A/n:.... yall ready for this????
+
For some reason, the link isn't working but I looked all over and found this really bitchin [😉] synth score for your guys' scene. You of course don't have to listen to it or anything but it's REALLY cool and fits the scene well I think. It's called
Sorcerer by S U R V I V E
I recommend it! I understand though, if you don't 🥰Either way, happy reading! And yay, snowball next!!
Warnings: suffocation, noticeable amount of violence, more blood.
Baddassery. Edit: a slightly tweaked sad endgame quote my subconscious slipped in there
||3rd Person POV||
Steve and the four party members now sit at the entrance of the tunnel that had brought them to the hub, all canisters now completely empty. The hub reeked of gasoline that manages to sting their throats despite their masks.
"You ready?" Steve asks, glancing back at the kids.
A chorus of muffled agreements ring out, and only then does he pull the lighter from his breast pocket.
Dustin looks up at Steve, sending him a curt and reassigned nod.
"Light her up,"
Steve sighs, taking one last look at their work. The tension in the air now palpable.
"I am in such deep shit,"
He flicks the lighter open, and in one swift click, it comes to life with a sharp and threatening hiss.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The flames in the fireplace grow brighter and far more intense as it reaches and swallows the bigger pieces of firewood. Will's screams have turned to violent grunts has his grip grows tighter around his mother's neck. Jonathan is already at her aid, trying with all his might to release her but Will's grip is unnaturally strong and unwavering.
Seeing this, Nancy jumps into action and quickly maneuvers around the bed to the fireplace. She can't bring herself to leave the poor injured girl passed out against the wall without sending several silent apologies to her. I'm sorry, Y/n! She makes it to the fireplace and pulls the tong loose from the fire where it had been cooking and shook a few logs loose.
The end was a bright and glowing shade of yellow, and Nancy fought a deep breath and the hesitation creeping up, but she had to do something! Her grip around the firepoker tightens until her knuckles turn white.
Behind her, the fire begins to pop as the loosened logs begin to shift, and several embers are sent flying. Several of them land on Will, angering him further. It's almost enough to make him let go, but he does not relent. The firepoker is already in his side, burning right through his shirt with a horrible sizzle, and the boy howls in pain, Joyce now set free.
His back arches in horrible pain, the stick plunging further into his side and another screech is let loose.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
This was it. It was now or never. The dogs weren't going anywhere, and he had to get El to the gate. Hopper's eyes flutter closed, and he counts to three under his breath, the cry of each beast echoing in his skull and beating against his chest.
One...
Two...
Three...
He throws himself through the door, gun first, and his finger on the trigger.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Joyce now towers over her son, spit flying and her voice strained from injury. Nancy had helped her to her feet and was now aiding the rest in restraining Will.
Joyce takes a deep breath as strained screams bellow from her.
"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SON!"
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The lighter in Steve's gloved hand cast out into the fume soaked air, it's small but greedy flame swallows the entire room in seconds. The vines once woven into the dirt come alive in seconds, and they reach the ceilings, writhing and squealing as the flames engulf them.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
A strong and booming roar erupts from deep within Will's chest, the deep voice of the Mind Flayer they had caught a glimpse of in the shed, returns at full force. His back arches once more, the back his head digging deep into the pillow. He is shaking violently now, as he had the night the lab had set the tunnels on fire.
Joyce stumbles back as his shaking grows more violent. His head arches back even further against all odds, and that's when they spot it.
"His neck!" Nancy cries, pointing feverishly as she returns to Jonathan's side. "Look at his neck!"
Several thick and dark veins began protruding through his skin as it crawled up his neck, and it looked as if they were full of dark sludge.
"The Mind Flayer's losing," Jonathan mumbles.
Will's head shoots up at the words, the veins have already spread to his face and even stretch across his arms now. They all jump back as his head whips off the bed, his eyes completely black. The Mind Flayer's grip on the boy tightens, his rage stronger than his pain at their audacity to tempt his strength with Henderson's presence.
"AND HE'LL DIE WITH ME!"
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The end of Hopper's gun finds its first target, but before he can pull the trigger he sees them writhe and hiss. Their slender bodies begin to shake violently in pain and for a moment he hopes...
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
"Go, go, go!"
The party does not hesitate, they are already on their feet and begin their sprint for the exit.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The bed begins to shake with him, every muscle in his body tensed with his fists clenched at his sides and shaking. They all watch in horror, his deep screams turn to grunts, not realizing what he is truly doing until it is too late. His left leg bursts free, the rope still dangling around his bleeding ankle and the others scramble to restrain him. His leg reels back before barreling into his mother's ribcage.
With his unnaturally given strength, she is sent flying a couple of feet, landing just in front of the bookshelf. His rage burns as hot as the fire that fuels it.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The fire in the hub spreads, already flames rain down from the ceiling as every inch is consumed.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The Demodogs shrill howls climb even higher, as they twitch. But their attention never leaves Hopper. They crawl and stalk towards him, heads bowed and hissing. They weren't weakened.
They were pissed.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Jonathan rushes to his brother, pinning his one free arm back down.
"You're... gonna lose... him!" The words are spit from Will's mouth, a struggle through the growing pain.
Just as the monster had hoped, Jonathan hesitates, his tearful eyes widening and his whole jaw quivers fighting back a sob. Will's fist breaks loose from his grip and before Jonathan can catch it, it meets his nose sending the older boy flying back into the couch, knocking his breath loose.
Another painful scream erupted as the fire beneath Hawkins spread, but he fights it as much as he can. He was almost free. But most importantly, he couldn't let them win. Not with her on their side.
His black eyes meet with the one they called Nancy, who had been kneeling over Joyce on the floor. Her wide eyes locked onto Will's, and she froze. Her eyes darted to the spike she had left near the pit and she made a run for it.
But he was too quick and had been expecting it. Just as he had with the mother, his heel collided with her jaw and sent her to the floor as he let out a painful scream. Every movement was pure agony, but he knew he could take them now.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Hopper's bullets are sent into several Demodogs, but he only manages to bring down two. The swarm was advancing on him, they had nearly crossed the glass when suddenly they stopped altogether.
In a matter of seconds, each of their screams blended into one and they began to writhe and shake, one of them even collapsed. Its body was still crying out in pain, but it was as if it could hold it's self no longer. One by one they began to mimic their sibling, their twitching growing ever violent. They were rooted in place, they couldn't walk.
That's when Hopper felt it. The ground beneath his feet had begun to rumble, the steady stream of cold air that had drifted in from the gate began to dwindle. He lowered his gun, his attention pulling him all around the room as it began to shake.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
"Let's go, let's go!"
Steve calls back to the group of kids, unable to run without checking behind him every few moments assuring everyone was with him.
"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god," Dustin pants as he runs.
A screech leaves his throat as he finds himself on the ground once more, but it was no vine or root that tripped him. Everyone felt it, a great rumble that shook their very bones. They all stop and Max helps Dustin up to his feet.
"What is that?" Lucas calls over the booming rumbles.
By now, the vibrations were so intense, the dirt was being shaken loose from the vines and rained down from above.
"I think it's an earthquake!" Mike cries.
A light breeze picks up in the tunnel from where they're headed, carrying with it a warm toasty wave of heat that answered their question.
"No, not an earthquake!" Dustin's eyes went wide from behind his goggles as he looked to others excitedly. "It's Y/n!"
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The Henderson child had managed to pull herself from unconsciousness, and she now stood across the bed. Her arms were stretched out before her and a blazing fire resided in her eyes, a grunt pulled from deep within her throat. Three bloody lines where his nails had caught her ran diagonally down her vein covered face. Each vein protruded from her skin as blood poured from her nose and ears.
Like a broken dam, all that raw power trapped inside her burst free. Y/n was a supernova, a sight to behold as everything inside her exploded all around her. She allowed the weight of all that she had endured to shoot to the surface and engulf her completely. It awakened every cell in her body and touched every nerve in her system.
She didn't have to close her eyes to relive the painful memories as she did on the side of the road. The vast and seemingly neverending pool of dark thoughts and feelings swallows her whole and it all washes over her in angry red flashes.
《•••》
Like her friends, she had mounted her bike ready to flee the Wheeler house and away from the bad men who had found them. She paused in fear, looking over her shoulder at the man who stood before his fleet of vans.
He had stark white hair and his slightly wrinkled face and surrounding him was an aura of menace.
It was him. Martin Brenner, the power-hungry man responsible for the threat that had reached Hawkins. And the man obsessed with Eleven. And herself as she would soon discover.
It was the same man who struck fear into her very soul only minutes ago through the window.
His cold eyes bore into El, but then he turned his attention to her.
Something about him and the way his eyes were fixed on herself... it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her blood ran cold.
It was the day he had caught her scent.
•••
"Dustin? Dustin!" She shrieks.
Her brother's desperate calls for her break her heart, but it turns to fire when she hears the man's voice.
"Y/n, don't fight it. You belong with us. We are your true home. Come home to us, Nine"
•••
The intense and raw ache of her heart as she choked on every moment of silence El was in the bath. Everyone surrounds her as she floats silently amongst the saltwater, everyone including Y/n watching with bated breath. When her voice breaks the silence it is a soft whimper, a plea for life as she says the boy's name.
"Will?"
Y/n's hands grip the edge of the pool so tight she fears the skin of her knuckles will tear. Every moment of silence is devastating but the small snivel of Will over the walkie and what he says, deliver the final dagger to her heart.
"Y/n?"
《•••》
Y/n can feel the dagger even now, the devastating weight of all the strain and heartbreak flooding her lungs and escaping in an ear-piercing scream that moved the earth.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
El joined Hopper's side in cautious steps as she traveled through the tremors, her hand coming to wrap around his elbow to steady herself. Her widened brown eyes were surveying the shaking world around them, and she could see rubble breaking loose and raining down from the ceilings around them. The warm burst of heat hit her face and neck, and that is when her eyes meet with Hopper when it finally clicked.
Simultaneously their attention is pulled to the gate where the entire army of Demodogs begins collapsing into the dark abyss one by one. The darkness swallows their bodies and their many lingering wails of agony as they fall.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The underground team looked at one another in astonishment as the reality settled in, their hands still clinging to the grimy walls around them for balance. Steve broke from his temporary stupor and began waving the kids out.
"Come on, team, keep it moving! Keep it movin'!"
They fell into action, clambering back into line as they tried to make a break for the exit. They were close, but still had several turns to make. Steve helped the children through, catching them as they fell and sending them on their way with his eyes above their heads watching carefully. All the while in his sprint, Dustin cries out proudly into the air, a beaming smile hidden behind his bandana.
"Yeah, that's my fucking sister!"
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The world bent at Y/n's will, everything not screwed to the walls or floors broke loose as the cabin moved around all inside it. It was a movement so forceful and demanding, it moved all of Hawkins. A guttural battle cry pierced the air as her powers exploded into an unstoppable force that had awakened her full potential.
《•••》
"She disappeared... Bang," El said slowly, a saddened frown forming on her face. "Gone."
"So, my mom? She's...?" Y/n took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat and El nodded.
•••
"Jane, let me put it this way. Does it not bother you that not only did your friend get a better life than us, but our lives were made worse because of it?"
•••
"This could be your home, you said it yourself, we're sisters[...] We'll look after each other. We understand each other. Y/n will never understand you. But I do. Would you like that, Jane?"
•••
"That pesky tag-along friend of hers, what about her?"
"I have no use for her. She's not to be trusted, I want her gone by morning."
《•••》
The heartbreak that fills her up inside no longer slows her down but instead fuels the fire in her chest. Not the Mind Flayer's hatred for her, but the fact it was using her best friend as a puppet. The awful things he was doing to Will, not only to hurt him but the ones he cared about.
《•••》
"Get out!" She winces, but this time she doesn't listen to him. "GO AWAY!"
"No. Not until I talk to Will."
"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"
"-Will," Joyce tries.
Will's small frame starts to move again, fighting as hard as he can against the restraints under the harsh light in the shed. His teeth are bared and his usual warm and kind eyes are dark and cold as they burn holes into her skull. Hopper has to pin him back again, but the hatred bottled up inside him for her is undeniable.
•••
"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"
•••
Y/n watched tearfully as Joyce began to choke on her words at the pride of her son as she listened intently from the corner with a simultaneous swelling, and breaking of her heart. "You said she should have it because she was sad. She's sad, Mom, and I want to make that go away."
"I love you so much," Joyce tearfully coos. "So, so much."
The heartbreak evident in Joyce's voice brings a whole new level of pain to her heart, unable to imagine the position Joyce was in as his mother. The thought of watching your son endure such a horrific thing, not knowing if he'll even survive. It pissed her off even more.
•••
"...I asked you why you were being so nice to me, why you wanted me to be apart of your group,"
A small sob came out in the form of a chuckle, and she wiped a tear off her cheek.
"And you told me it was because..." her lip quivers as the words tumble out. "because that was your birthday wish."
A tear slips down Will's cheek, but his expression remains as still as stone. She can practically hear the breaking of her heart as she sees Will losing his battle before her very eyes. His body shakes violently in an attempt to regain control but the Mind Flayer quickly pulls him back down, swallowing him in darkness as he tries to silence him.
《•••》
Each of these moments are enough to send her over the edge, but the words she had yet to shake from her mind were the ones to do the trick. The words still bouncing violently around her skull, taunting her and reminding her that they were all moments away from losing Will forever.
As the storm inside her reaches its peak, swirling around her head and heart in a violent mass closing in on her, all she can hear are the last words she had heard from her best friend before he had attacked her.
"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"
The room grew from dim to blinding in a matter of astonish-filled moments.
Her s/c skin began to glow like a star, the cosmic force at work pumping hard through her veins. Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce watched in awe as she comes alive, all the while Will's small and trembling frame twisting and kicking as he is engulfed in searing pain.
His screams vibrate with his body before his small frame shrinks in on itself like a dead spider. He straightens in seconds, his head, hands, and feet now glued to the bed as he bends in one final arc, his chest rising to the heavens. Will's mouth opens in another scream and a billowing cloud of inky black smoke escapes. It twists and unravels out from between his lips like a pitch-black tornado.
It grows larger and larger, circling over the boy and looms over the entire room as it had the last few days. Will's body goes limp, falling back onto the mattress as the dark mass zips across the room and through the front door breaking it open.
Nancy quickly recovers her footing and chases it out of the door to assure it's leaving for good. Sure enough, when she reaches the porch she spots the black dust circle the trees before disappearing into the sky.
The first thing that stops is the light, all that illuminates the room now is the dim lamps they had flipped on and light of the flames. Everything in the room begins to settle, the rattling of dishes and furniture, and dust rained down from the ceiling from where it had broken loose.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
By now, their trek back to the exit is halfway through, their gloves now completely damp from grasping the walls as they navigate through the tremors. But they find themselves slowing, meeting each other's eye excitedly when the earth gradually steadies again.
They picked up speed immediately, eager not only to escape the tunnels but to see their friend - and sister - again.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
A thud breaks the shocked silence as Y/n collapses to her hands and knees, coughing and panting for breath. The room is blurry and she only catches every other word. Her arms feel just as weak and strained and she allows herself to collapse against the wall nearby.
The scuffling of shoes enters her subconscious as she fights to understand what's going on. Y/n can barely register what is happening when she feels a hand lightly touch her shoulder. She nods either way and the figure scurries away.
It had been Joyce, who had pulled herself up from the ground and came to check on Y/n when she gave the all-clear. Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds and she could feel herself falling asleep against the wall. She tried to stay awake, to know if Will was okay but again she found herself catching every few moments.
All heaters now unplugged, the door left open to let in the cold autumn air.
Jonathan had helped untie the rest of his restraints, and Joyce now sat at his bedside as he lay unconscious. His eyes were sunken, his eyelids dark. He was still awfully pale but already he looked more himself. Will's limp body shifts around as his mother lightly tries to shake him awake, her chest sore and her throat strained but she doesn't care. She just wants her baby.
"Will," she sobs. "Will. Please, Will. Will."
Through sobs of his own, Jonathan places one trembling hand onto his brother's head, brushing away the stray hairs as pleas leave his lips. "Come on, buddy. Come on."
"Please," Joyce wails. "Can you hear me?"
"Come on,"
"Will?"
With great struggle, his eyelids finally flutter open. When Will sees who is in front of him, he feels relief overwhelm him. His lips tug into a weak smile, eliciting an excited gasp from his mother.
"Mom?"
Will feels his limp and drained body being pulled into his mother's embrace, he happily welcomes it. His sobs of relief are buried in her hair and he can feel his shoulder dampening further with her own tears. His eyes are squeezed shut, and despite his lack of strength, he squeezes with all his might, never wanting to let go. He was all too afraid none of it was real, and he doesn't realize it to be possible but his happiness grows when he feels his brother join the hug. Jonathan locks his long arms around his family, like them, not ever wanting to let go.
Nancy has already returned, and when she found the Byers in a tearful embrace, she was happy to know the youngest was now okay. But worry remained and quickly she maneuvered through the now cluttered cabin floor to Y/n's side and knelt to her knees to check on the poor girl.
Y/n's head was propped up against the wall, her chest moved up and down in shallow breaths but the blood seemed to have stopped flowing. Nancy lays a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, pulling her from sleep. Y/n looks up around the room, trying to see through her foggy vision who was with her now.
Nancy whispered to her softly, her thumb subconsciously running soothing circles into her shoulder as her mother always did for her when she was unwell. "Y/n, are you okay?"
"I..."
She tries to speak, but her mouth is too dry. Her dry tongue meets her dried and cracked lips as she tries to find her voice and that is when she notes the taste of salty copper on her tongue. Her blood had mixed with tears, she hadn't even realized she had been crying. When her vision clears, it lands on Will's trembling form as he clings to his mother and brother in relief.
Her eyes begin to sting, and she looks at Nancy, trying to form words but none seem to come. It feels as if a rock sits in her throat, and she can feel more tears streak down her cheeks stinging the scratches on her face. She should be happy that Will was alright! She was, but what she had just done...
It was all too much for her at that moment, and sobs choked her airways. Y/n's limbs were growing heavier by the second and she felt herself collapse into Nancy's shoulder. Nancy pulled Y/n in, her eyebrows knitting together in a sorrowful frown. Y/n's tears and blood soaked her neck and shirt further, and like Joyce, she couldn't care less. Her arms wrapped around the girl's shaking form and began rubbing her back soothingly.
"You did it, Y/n," she whispers, eyes closed, holding back tears of her own. "You were so great..."
The words coax another sob out of the Henderson girl as all her emotions come flooding out, no longer held back. The words Nancy speaks to her are the words she hadn't known she had needed to hear.
"It's okay," she mutters. "It's over, now. You can rest."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The rest of the pack had disappeared down into the abyss, Hopper's right arm still secured tightly around El's shoulders in a protective manner. The warm wind gusting through the broken glass separating them from the abyss gingerly fades away, allowing the cold atmosphere leaking in from the gate to return.
The earth had stilled completely, leaving behind an eery silence that rose the hair on the back of their necks. They didn't have to say anything, but when their eyes met, they knew then and there that Will was safe.
Y/n had done it.
As if reading their thoughts, the walkie Hopper holsters crackle loudly disrupting the deafening silence, and Jonathan's voice booms over the other side.
"Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?"
Hopper hastily draws the walkie from his pocket and up to his lips, his breath shaky. "Yeah, I copy."
"..."
Both pairs of eyes land on the gate before them as Jonathan speaks, dread soaks them to the very bone and the icy chill returns to the stale air.
"Close it."
||Reader's POV||
"Close it,"
It takes about all the energy I have but I manage to peel my eyes open at the sound of Jonathan's voice. He's speaking into a ham radio attached to the wall, and his face is hardened in a frown.
The room shakes once very suddenly, or at least it feels like it does as my head throbs. I groan, my eyes screwing shut. I hear more footsteps, and the low steady creak of the bedsprings dipping as Jonathan takes a seat next to his brother.
It all washes over me again, the intensity of it all. My chest tightens and I feel more tears brimming. It hurts to breathe, to move my chest since my entire body is aching, every muscle.
But I also feel... Really good. Finally confronting all of my pain, and letting it all out... In a way, it felt like fresh air and natural light streaming in after years of living in a dark and stale room. The change felt good.
It's an intense and bizarre cocktail of emotions that barred my thinking and made it hard to function. But over it all, I know one thing for sure. I need to rest.
I'm not sure I could do anything else if I tried, but I'm just thankful it's over. And above all, that Will is safe. Still, I can't quite wrap my head around what I had just accomplished, everything that still sits on the surface.
I feel more tears squeeze past my eyelids as the grief washes over me in its usual steady waves. They streak down the sides of my face and disappear through my scalp, tickling my cheeks as they glide across my skin. It finally clicks that I'm no longer on the floor, but the others must have moved me to the couch where I now lay on my back, head propped against a woolen pillow. The searing hot tears diverge in many paths in a new batch and now soak into the creases of my ears.
My joints scream at me in protest as I reach limply to swipe away as many tears as I can, my eyes still closed and my lip screwed in a quiver. On instinct, my palms travel across my face as I try to rub away the tears, and the blood from my nose and ears but I surprise myself with a whimper.
I barely register a small and gentle gasp and the scuffle of footsteps heading towards me as I try to understand why my face is stinging. I feel the couch dip slightly, and a pair of soft hands touch my wrists urging me to pull away. Soft shushing captures my attention and I recognize it to be Joyce. I fight against the pain of the soft light illuminating the cabin that sears my throbbing head to look at her, and it takes a moment to adjust but for the first time since I opened my eyes I can see clearly now.
Joyce sits next to me, her eyes are swimming in tears as looks at me and her lips are stretched across her face in a beaming smile, though her bottom lip still quivers. I feel more tears escape as I try to find words, but none come and that seems to break her more.
She shakes her head with the same expression still fixed on her face and sniffles. When she speaks her voice is still hoarse and raspy but I can still make out the pride in it.
"I know, honey. I'm so, so sorry." I feel her hand intertwine with mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry,"
Through my blurry vision I make out Nancy's figure approach us from behind me, and she hands something to Joyce who mutters a thank you. Her hand releases mine as she unfolds what Nancy had brought her, and I realize now that it's a wet cloth. She bunches it up and meets my eyes with a soft motherly gaze.
"This might sting a little, but it'll help, okay?"
I nod, my eyes fluttering closed again as a shakey sigh escapes. I feel the cool cloth meet my skin, stinging the three prominent streaks across my face. I bite back a hiss, feeling soothed just ever so as I hear her muttering softly to me.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Almost done,"
The worst of the pain begins to fade and my eyes flutter back open. She pulls the cloth away to turn it over, and I spot the dark smears of blood already soaked inside. She brings it back to my face, dabbing away the dried up streaks that had tightened my skin under my nose and the streaks under my ears.
Joyce pulls away, bunching up the cloth dropping it in her lap forgotten, her eyes back on me. It hurts to swallow, so I can feel the uncomfortable build up in my mouth as more tears seem to brim. I catch Joyce's hands gently reaching for mine and I let her take it, both her calloused but soft hands sandwich my own and it forces me to meet her eyes.
"You are so, so brave," she chokes, tears spilling from her eyes. "and so strong..."
Her head shakes back and forth slightly as if trying to will the tears away but she can't. She can only try to compose herself long enough to get the words out. Her right-hand breaks free and her thumb gently wipes away one of many stray tears on my cheek and comes to stroke my chin in one gentle swipe.
"I'll never be able to thank you properly for what you just did..." her lip quivers violently now, but the large smile returns, breaking out on her face as she speaks with absolute certainty. "I am so proud of you,"
An audible sob shakes my body, and with some struggle - and help from her - I pull myself up and into Joyce's arms. She gladly pulls me in, sobs leaving her lips as well and I feel a different kind of warmth spread through my chest, all the way to my fingertips and toes. It wasn't a hostile warmth, but a comforting one, and I realize for the first time why both her and Nancy's embrace and words meant so much to me.
It was the warm motherly reassurance I hadn't realized I'd been missing. My own mother had no knowledge of my powers, my past, anything that had truly happened in the past year. And therefore knew nothing of the enormous weight the Upside Down, my powers, Will, all of it, had on me. And to have the acceptance and reassurance of Joyce - even Nancy - after going so long without it, felt almost intoxicating in the moment.
I burrowed my head in the crook of her shoulder, and as Nancy did, her palms rubbed soothing circles into my back as she let me cry into her hair. I kept hearing her mutter the words softly in my ears, assuring the words stuck inside my brain so I wouldn't ever forget it.
"I'm so proud, baby, so proud," her voice was low and soothing and she cradled me. "You did so good."
My heartbeat had already slowed significantly in her embrace, and it felt as if I had melted into her shoulder. She never broke the hug, showing me she was here for me as long as I needed her which I greatly appreciated. Finally, my eyes fluttered open and I slowly pull away.
For the first time since waking, I am getting a good look around the cabin, and my mouth parts slightly in shock. It looked as if it had been ransacked, so many things had fallen to the floor and I looked at her worriedly. She smiled, shaking her head.
"It's okay hon, it's fixable," she assured, she then picks up the bloodied cloth from her lap and sends me a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back,"
I nod silently, still fighting back a wince as I look behind me at the fallen stools at the breakfast bar and the many things littering the floor that had once been on shelves. The lamp on the table had fallen over and several shards of glass from the bulb were sprinkled across the table and floor.
My eyes wander back to the living room and my breath catches in my throat when I see Will. Jonathan and Nancy sat on either side of him talking to one another as well as him. But he was looking at me, and I felt my heartbeat spike significantly. His face was full of guilt as he had been examining my face, most likely where he must have scratched me. He didn't break away when I met his gaze, and for a moment we shared silent apologies.
I offered him a weak smile, telling him it was okay and he seemed to melt. And yet, the sight was enough to make my insides melt as well. It was such a wonderful sight to see after the past few days, knowing and seeing him okay. My stomach begins to flutter when I see a blush creep up on his cheeks. It wasn't hard to spot given his still paled skin, but I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as well.
But just as soon our attention was pulled to the lights around the cabin. It drew everyone's attention, including Joyce who paused at the kitchen sink as the lights grew brighter and brighter. The cabin grew blindingly bright for the second time that night, and halfheartedly my palms raised off my lap to silently say 'it isn't me this time.'
My brain races to connect the dots as my eyes squint through the blinding light of the bulbs when it finally clicks. Jonathan and Nancy seem to have made the same connection when I meet their wide-eyed stare, the word tumbling out of my mouth in a whisper.
"Eleven."
||3rd Person POV||
༄ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ༄
The final lock is secured with a defined click, signifying the end of Hawkins Laboratory. One of the final many guards to lock up steps away from one of many chained up entrances revealing the large signs plastered over the wall behind him.
WARNING
RESTRICTED AREA
The man climbs aboard the jeep and no sooner does it take off down the main exit of the now-abandoned lot, bleeding into line with the rest of the troops.
Thanks to Nancy and Jonathan and the help of an eccentric conspiracist, Murray Bauman during the unfolding events of the prior month, the three had concocted a plan to take down Hawkins Lab. With enough proof - a secret audio tape of Sam Owens discussing the cover-up of Barb's death - were able to fabricate a smaller conspiracy big enough to take down the lab.
A conspiracy that was now being broadcasted nationwide.
"Since the release of the incendiary tape, the once quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, has spent time in a place it never expected."
One by one the line of military troops file out of the main entrance to the lab for good. Sat comfortably in a lawn chair outside his parked van was none other than Murray Bauman, who watched the parade of troops merrily with a smug grin on his bespeckled face.
"The national spotlight."
The man giggled happily, one hand leaving his pocket and waving an exaggerated salute at the man in the jeep. Glaring as the car carried him by, he sent the smug man the finger without breaking contact from the road. Murray's giggles only grow more mischievous, and he sends a very kiddish wave to the rest, his cheeks sore from smiling.
"Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up,"
Several sullen figures dressed all in black surround the polished coffin being lowered into the ground. Three of these figures, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, and Steve Harrington.
"of Hawkins resident Barbara Holland who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab."
Mr. And Mrs. Holland stand in each other's embrace at their daughters grave in tears, grasping tightly to one another. The long search for their daughter over in the most devastating conclusion.
"We send our own April Kline to Hawkins to speak to residents,"
The news anchor's voice echoes throughout the Hideaway bar from the small television set sat high on the shelf. The walls and shelves are decorated with many chunky Christmas lights for the upcoming holiday. The bar is filled with small chatter that fades out over the TV and the occasional clinking of glasses.
"residents who told us they thought they lived in a safe town. A kind of town where, they say, nothing ever happens."
The entrance to the Hideaway is pulled open with little strain, the warm air trapped inside is swept out with the demanding winter breeze that quickly takes its place. Wrapped up in a thick winter coat, Hopper steps inside and takes a quick look around. It hadn't changed much since his last visit over a year ago during his investigation of the lab and Will's "death". Funny enough, he used to frequent the place often, but since El had entered his life, he had quickly lost interest.
His eyes find the man he had come here to meet across the bar, sat at one of several booths enjoying a ham and turkey sandwich. Making his way across the bar, Hopper discards his heavy jacket, folding it up against his chest and tossing it in the corner of the booth before taking a seat across from Dr. Sam Owens.
"Cheif-o," the man pipes with a smile.
"How's the leg?" Hopper questions with a small smile.
Owens nods, swallowing the last of his bite and gestures to his right leg.
"Better," he chips. "Pretty sure my football career is over."
The two men share a small chuckle. Owens picks up the half of his sandwich he had touched and pushed the plate full of chips and the rest of the sandwich across the table in offering.
"Want some of this? No way I'm gonna finish it."
A tight, polite smile plasters over Hopper's face as he waves it off and gives him a shake of the head.
"No. I'm, uh... on a diet." He admits, thinking of El.
He had done a lot of thinking, and he knew now that he wanted this kid in his life for good. And that meant taking good care of himself so she had someone looking out for her.
It was also the very reason for this visit, and why he had been so anxious to talk to Owens. He stared at the man across from him as he spoke. Not bothered to try and hide the intimidation in his eyes as he prepared to reap the threat that was sown back in Hawkins Lab all those nights ago.
"Well, you're a better man than me," Owens says, immediately perking as he turns to his discarded jacket pocket. "Hey, got a little something for you."
Hopper sighs, leaning further back in his seat a bit taken aback. He watches curiously as Owens pulls a sealed white envelope out, places it on the table, and slides it across into his hand.
With a furrowed brow, Hopper picks it up and the envelope opens with a small crinkle. A somewhat thick piece of parchment lays inside that makes his heart skip a beat, all previous intimidations he was prepared to throw at the doctor vanish completely. He tucks the ends out of the envelope to get a better look, also being cautious of any possible prying eyes but no matter how many times he reads the words it doesn't seem real.
STATE OF INDIANA
Certificate of Birth
This Certifies that according to records if the State of Indiana
Name 𝙹𝙰𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙴𝚁
Was born in 𝙷𝙰𝚆𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂
Child of 𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙰 𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂
"Congratulations, Pops," Owens smirks.
Hopper's wide eyes dart to across the table to the man watching his reaction. "I thought--"
Owens shrugged. "Sometimes I impress even myself."
Hopper slips the parchment back into the sleeve, and folds up the envelope before slipping it into his jacket pocket where he wouldn't lose it. His defenses creep back up at what the man says next, though not as bad given the progress.
"Still, I'd let things cool off for a while, if I were you."
Hopper subconsciously squares his shoulders, his long and bulky arms coming to stretch across the table in an intimidating manner. His brows bunch together in a creased frown, tilting his head.
"How long is a while?"
He tries to remain patient with the man, but it proves more difficult than anticipated considering the heavy weight of his guilt. Hopper couldn't deny he played just a big of a part in El's captivity in the cabin, even if it was out of good intentions. All the more reason he was now determined to make it right.
"Want to be safe? Give it a year," Owens answers.
Hopper's brows shoot up. "A year?"
Shit.
His chest deflates in a sigh and snatches the untouched sandwich off the plate, taking a rather large bite out of the side. He thinks for a moment, an idea forming in his head.
"What about one night out?"
"One night?"
"Yeah," he hardens, quickly attaching himself to the idea, knowing how important it was to El. "How risky would that be?"
"What's so important about one night?"
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Link down below in the comments as usual, and of course, BLACK LIVES MATTER!!
Portland Freedom Fund
"PFF is a fund that pays bail for vulnerable populations charged with crimes in the Portland area so they may navigate their case from a position of freedom"
[Link]
'Demand Racial Data on Coronavirus' and 'Coronavirus: Demand More From Your Government'
"Join us and sign both of the petitions below today. Demand Racial Data on Coronavirus We are losing our friends, family, and neighbors at unprecedented and disproportionate rates as COVID-19 tears through our communities. We will be hit…"
The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.
A/n: I hate but also kinda love that I know exactly what you guys are gonna comment this chapter 😑😆
By no means a warning but more ICONIC Momma Steve 💝 and no I could not resist leaning into it. I'm not sorry at all ✌ Also, there is a CRIMINALLY underappreciated Dustin moment near the end when he gets spit on by the spores, and yeah I just love Gaten. Thank you for making me laugh till my sides hurt, my dude ♡
||3rd Person POV||
The truck comes to a gradual halt before shutting down altogether. Hopper is the first to exit the car and is soon followed by El. Her heart plummets all the way down to her stomach when she gazes up at the building in front of her. All of her fears that had accumulated during the car ride over now manifest itself into a hole that swallows her up. In an instant, she's a prisoner again. A weapon.
[FLASHBACK]
The cat began snarling, and it quickly turned to whimpers of pain. Eleven was freely crying now as she looked between the frightened cat and Papa.
《•••》
Eleven struggles to break free from the men's hold as they carry her by her arms down, back into the room.
Sobs racked her body as she uses all her strength to turn and look back at Papa.
"Papa!" He steps out into the hallway and remains standing, doing nothing to help her, yet she still calls for him.
《•••》
Eleven's stomach sinks lower than she does as the platform she stands on descends into the tank. Her hands grip the rails tightly, knowingly her only connection tethering her to reality as she becomes one with the water.
《•••》
The very world begins to shatter around her as it collides with the Upside Down. All the while, she is still held captive in her mind, her body fights to be free and her arms bang furiously on the glass of the isolation tank.
Her horrified screams blend with the cracking of tile and asphalt as the lab begins to crumble.
[END OF FLASHBACK]
A thud rips her from her thoughts and she turns to find Hopper stepping away from the trunk, gun in hand. Her breathing is shallow but she manages to calm it for the time being. The screeches of the Demodogs ring continuously into the night, and Hopper scans the area.
"Alright," he assures, gesturing to the lab. "You let me do the heavy lifting up front, alright? You save your strength 'till we're below."
She does not answer, and Hopper knows it is not her usual silence. He sees her hesitant expression and feels a pang in his heart for her.
"You okay?"
Again, she does not answer. But her previously frightened gaze quickly molds into that of intense determination and she stalks off towards the lab with Hopper on her heels.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The first thing Steve notices as his brain begins to stir is the overwhelming amount of pain in his face and abdomen. There isn't a spot on his head that isn't throbbing, and as his face begins to twitch he notes his face is stained in blood that crusted and tightened his skin.
His hearing returns next and was that... sloshing he heard? He let out an involuntarily groan as he turned his head. His vision is still wildly out of focus but he swears he can make out the words, 'GASOLINE FILLER' on a large red canister. His vision worsens as he cranes his head up to look at the person holding it, and his brain tries desperately to make a connection.
"Nancy?"
Mike's brows knit together in an unsettled and puzzled frown as he looks at Steve unpleasantly.
Another groan escapes Steve as his head moves back to a more comfortable position, and shakily he struggles to bring a hand up to his face. He hisses in pain when he touches one of many injuries.
"No, don't touch it." Dustin's voice echoes several times in his ears.
He feels a hand gently pull his arm away from his face, and suddenly he's aware of an ice pack on his forehead. He turns his head the other way, still wincing in pain as every movement only intensifies the throbbing in his skull. Dustin sits beside him to his right, he realizes and in the back of his mind - the part that is still waking up - is trying to piece together where they all are right now.
Dustin smiles down at him.
"Hey, buddy..." he coos softly. "shh, shhh, shhh."
Steve tried to make sense of his surroundings and Dustin's words. His voice was echoing over his shushing and Steve tries desperately to listen.
"It's okay. You put up a good fight," a fight? Billy, he remembers. "He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You're okay, you're okay."
Steve grasps limply for the ice pack and takes it from Dustin as he tries to find his bearings. He hears another voice echo in his ears, still overlapping itself as his senses adjust.
"Okay, you're gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai."
It was Lucas. He was in the front seat. Wait, the front seat? It finally registers that he is in a car, but who the hell was driving?
Sluggishly, his head turns to the front seat, and who he finds only confuses him even more. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Hell, he sure hoped he was.
"Whas' goin on?" He slurs.
Max gripped the wheel nervously, she sits up a bit straighter than normal to see across the dashboard. Upon hearing his voice, she spares a moment to glance over her shoulder and studies his reaction.
"Oh, my god!" It comes out in a frightened chuckle and he begins shifting around.
"Yeah, in a parking lot." Mike retorts in his other ear.
"That counts." Lucas defends.
"They were going to leave you behind," Dustin says irritably.
Steve is not listening to their jabber, the panic far too overwhelming. He's still shifting in his seat, unable to stop his squirming as he tries to process not only his current situation but the memories that continue to come flooding back from before he blacked out.
"Oh, my god."
"I promised that you'd be cool, okay?" Dustin says, trying again to soothe the young man.
"Oh, my god! Woah, woah, woah, woah. What's going on?"
Desperately he grasps at the shoulders of the two front seats as the car rapidly picks up speed. Max's foot presses harder on the small cardboard box on the gas pedal. The engine grows louder, and so do Steve's horrified screams.
"I told you he'd freak out," Mike snarls at Dustin.
"Stop the car~!"
"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Max roars. "I'm trying to focus!"
Lucas about jumps in his seat, his eyes grow wide and frantically he points just up ahead.
"Oh, wait, that's Mount Sinai! Make a left!"
"What?"
"Make. A. Left!"
"Shit" she mutters, jerking the wheel to the side.
The car hits a mailbox as it swerves to the other side of the road. Using the momentum, the car lurches to right as it swings a sharp left. Screams fill the car, and a tearful Steve clamors after Dustin. But eventually, the car redirects itself and they disappear down the road.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Three figures are sat around the still unconscious figure of Will, each of them already drenched with sweat. Much like themselves, hair clings to Will's forehead, and his clothes hold many dark stains of sweat. The temperature inside the cabin quickly began to climb thanks to the many space heaters and the full fireplace. Y/n sat waiting in the other room, her hands interwoven as she wrung them together.
Y/n feared things would escalate had she been one of the first people "Will" had seen. It was obvious the Mind Flayer was most threatened by her, hence her presence in what she could only guess to be El's bedroom.
She was going to wait. Only a bit longer. Not only was her strength still returning but she knew it would be a long and difficult process. She wanted to save her energy for when she needed it most. As it would seem, the wait would not be lasting much longer. Everyone's heads were picked up from the ground at the sound of a small gasp.
Her head whipped to the door, keeping her ears peeled. Will was definitely awake, she could hear his heavy breathing and she jumped to her feet nervously.
How would she do this?
Could she do this?
She only had so much practice.
Joyce's offer returns to mind, and immediately she dismisses the option of opting out. Y/n intended to keep her word, and her best friend.
Her motives are only confirmed when she hears Will begin to panic.
It's not Will, she reminds herself.
But even that still manages to feel like a lie.
"What's happening?" She hears him pant fearfully. "It hurts."
Y/n hears shuffling, and she can picture him fighting against the restraints. Her mouth runs dry, and her throat sore as she hears the desperate and fearful cries of Will.
She knew this would not be easy, using her powers to this extent. But Y/n had been so worried about that, she forgot how painful it was to hear him in pain. And now she was going to be the one inflicting it.
"It hurts!" He screeches. "It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"
At his bedside, Jonathan rises to his feet. His eyes widen at the sight of his little brother, and all pain he had felt previously inside the shed at home, was dwarfed in comparison to what he saw now before him. Jonathan's hand clasps tightly around his mother's.
Will was writhing on the bed, his face contorted in a terrified expression.
"Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!"
Now as Joyce stares at her son, he's more Mind Flayer than Will. Anger rises in her chest as she thinks of all the things this monster was ripping from her. All that he had ripped from her already.
What little happiness, peace, and sense of mind she had managed to scrape together after the prior year.
And it had already taken Bob. She wouldn't let him take Will too.
With a determined glare, she throws her head over her shoulder at El's door calling out in a growl.
"It's time!"
Will's attention flies to the door, and for a moment, whips frantically between it and his mother confused. But his limbs still move, and he does not stop screaming.
The lights flicker as they did in the shed, and when his eyes fall on the doorframe, every ounce of panic inside is multiplied and his struggle only intensifies.
"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"
Y/n steps into view, her face hardened, fists clenched and chest heaving in shallow, nervous breaths. Her eyes are locked on Will and already, two or three spidery veins begin to appear around her eyes. They're faint, and hard to see without the thick layer of sweat illuminating her s/c skin and accentuating the usual faint bumps and indents of her strain.
"GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"
She has joined Joyce's side, unaware heat has already begun radiating off of her tightly clenched fists. Her eyes are locked on Will's, and the closer she gets the more frantic he becomes.
The more frantic the Mind Flayer becomes.
The lights continue to flicker, and her breathing grows more shallow. Shakily, one hand rises out and her hardened expression cracks when Will's eyes go wide. His legs kick even faster, and using the restraints around his wrists he tries to pull himself as far away as he can from her.
Y/n hesitates, only briefly to lock eyes with the others and her gaze lands on Joyce. Joyce's lip is curled up in a furious pout, and she nods determined, giving the okay. Y/n turns her head to look back at Will, shuffling on her feet only briefly, and out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Joyce crank up the heat on the space heaters.
"Mom," Jonathan whimpers.
Jonathan looks on in terror at Will's reaction as Joyce circles the room, reaching every heater. She calls out in protest, shouting out encouragement to Y/n. His unease and pain grows with every second until he can no longer bear it. He whirls around on his heel and into Nancy's arms. Sobs rack his body as he weeps into Nancy's shoulder. She is crying too, an equally disturbed look fixed on her face as she cradles Jonathan close.
Y/n, all the while, takes a deep breath, trying desperately to tune out his horrifying screams and her eyes flutter closed. And while it wounds her greatly to do so, she lets the sound of his pain fuel her anger and in no time she feels the heat coursing through her veins and into her fingertips.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The vicious roar of an engine booms across Merrill's Pumpkin Farm followed by the crunching of wood. The tires of Billy's hijacked car barrels over the welcome sign leaving it in pieces. After many moments, the car comes to a screeching halt when Max finds them at the large hole that had been dug.
The sudden halt throws each body forward, and a rather petrified Steve rockets back into his seat.
"WOAH HELlo!"
A large puff of air inflates his cheeks, enunciating - and hurting - his crooked nose.
Gasps of surprise and awe ripple throughout the car, including Mike.
"Incredible," he breathes.
"Told you." Her gaze remains fixed ahead, but she quirks a brow and rips the keys from the ignition. "Zoomer."
The party wastes no time climbing out, and heads straight for the trunk where they had placed their many supplies. Steve, meanwhile, kicks and squirms in the backseat not unlike a ladybug stuck on his back as he tries to find his balance. He was still horribly woozy but given the unfolding events with the unruly kids he had no choice. His hands find the edge of the car and he pulls himself out, his legs unable to catch him in time. His hands and knees find the ground and it knocks a groan loose.
As Steve pulls himself up on his feet, he looks on in worry at what he sees them doing. A variety of bandanas and goggles are pulled from the trunk and wrapped around their faces.
"Guys," he slurs, draping himself against the door and car. "Oh, no. Guys,"
His swollen eyes widen a bit when he sees a now completely masked Mike struts around to the front of the car with the canister and some rope.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?"
He neglects to answer, infuriating Steve even more and kneels before the front bumper.
"What are you, deaf? Hello?"
Max is the next to follow suit, once again engaging the panicking babysitter.
"We are not going down there right now," he orders, his pointing finger once again plummeting towards the ground. "I made myself clear!"
Max heads for the pit, and Mike fastens the rope to the car.
"Hey, there's no chance we're going to that hole, all right?!"
Lucas walks past him without a word or a glance in his direction and joins the others. Steve stumbles to the trunk where only Dustin remains, ripping what few things he holds and chucks them back into the trunk.
"Steve!" Dustin calls, tugging swiftly on Steve's sleeve to keep him from chasing after them. "you're upset, I get it. But the bottom line,"
One by one, with Mike in lead and rope in hand, the party marches to the bottom of the pit where the hole resides.
"a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe."
He reaches into the truck, pulling out Steve's backpack he had brought with him to the junkyard, complete with the spiked bat sticking out from the pouch. Dustin thrusts the backpack forward for Steve to take.
"So, keep us safe."
Steve glares at the kid, shaking his head with great distaste when a great sigh escapes.
He was cornered.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The drop is not as far as Steve had anticipated, but it still manages to take his breath away by the time he gets to the bottom. His mouth sits agape behind his new makeshift mask as he takes in the unusual setting he finds himself in. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
"Holy shit," he breathes.
When the others had spoken of tunnels beneath Hawkins, he had a hard time picturing anything but a tightly packed space. With walls compacted of damp earth littered with the towns undergrowth that smelled of dirt. He certainly had not expected a vast shaft the size of an average hallway. Instead of dirt, all one could see was a wall woven out of hundreds of vines of varying sizes under a thick coat of slime. And as the beam of Dustin's flashlight dances in the air, Steve understands why the need for goggles and masks.
The air was heavier down there, and not in the sense that there was less of it seeing as they were underground. But it seemed... otherworldly. Everything felt heavier, even the gravity oddly enough. Steve was also quick to catch on to the thousands of little flakes that hung in the air around him.
The end of Mike's flashlight lands on the crudely drawn map of tunnels they had procured in their limited time.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's this way." His words are slightly muffled from his mask, and his flashlights shift down one end of the tunnel.
"You're pretty sure, or you're certain?" Dustin asks.
"I'm one hundred percent sure," Mike yells, whirling around. "Just follow me and you'll know."
Mike turns back around to start the journey, only to halt in tracks when Steve begins yelling at him.
"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey, hey," Protests Steve, walking up to the boy.
Mike throws his arms out in frustration despite his full hands. "What?"
"I don't think so. Any of you little shits die down here, I'm gettin' the blame. Got it, dipshit?"
He rips the map out from Mike's grasp and turns to the others. "From here on out, I'm leading the way. Come on, let's go."
One by one like ducklings, they fall in line behind Steve and they disappear deep with tunnels.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Two sets of feet scurry through the halls of Hawkins lab, their steps light and quick. Hopper and El now find themselves in one of many stairwells, and Hopper remains in the lead, gun drawn. What they find does not ease their already troubled minds. A trail of blood paints the railing and floors, continuing around the corner and down the stairs. Their trip through the hallways has already been littered with dead bodies around every corner. The carnage left over from what the Demodogs didn't finish. But this looked more like a crime scene than an animal attack.
And Hopper had a sneaking suspicion the person responsible was nearby and near-death if they weren't already gone.
"Stay here," he orders softly.
The poor kid had already seen enough. He had better scope it out, he figures. Especially if one of those dogs was still around. Softly he descends the first set of steps, his grip growing tighter around the gun as he inches around the corner. The tension melts away altogether at what he sees on the next landing.
"Oh, shit," he gasps, immediately descending the stairs.
He discards the gun off his back as he kneels to the floor beside a dying Dr. Owens. "Hey, Doc,"
The man sits propped up against the wall, his face drained of color and he is stained with blood. On his chest, is a sizable gouge that has turned a portion of his white shirt crimson, and one pant leg is ripped open to reveal a tremendous gash on his lower thigh.
Hopper sighs as he examines the man's wounds. "Those suckers got you pretty good, huh?"
Weakly, the doctor begins to gesture through a pained look on his face, and he tries to speak through shallow breaths. Hopper shakes his head and pats the man's uninjured shoulder.
"It's okay, don't talk. Don't talk. I got you, I got you, I got you," he reassures.
The man had already lost too much blood and was only loosing more with every second. Hopper had to act fast, and he knew the quickest way to slow the bleeding was to cut off circulation. Quickly, Hopper undid his belt and began fastening it just above the wound.
He hesitated only once, and quite briefly when he saw a funny look cross Owens's face. He glances over his shoulder to see El had joined them and was now quietly observing. Hopper returns to his work.
"Oh, yeah," he grunts, looping the belt around the man's leg once more. "I've been meaning to tell ya'. This is Eleven. Eleven, Doc Owens. Doc Owens, Eleven."
He can't believe his eyes as she stands before him, one of two missing pieces at the very center of the conspiracy he had been tasked with protecting. He had heard of her of course, and Brenner, and the other kid the madman was obsessed with getting his hands on. But it was strange knowing - seeing - the proof staring him in the eye.
He doesn't blame her as she stares at him wearily, in truth her heart is pounding being so close to him. Another labcoat from this place was the last person she would trust. Yet she lingered, only because Hopper seemed to trust this guy. Somewhat it seemed.
"She's been staying with me for about a year," Hopper continues. "and she's about to save our asses."
His eyes land on Owens, and he makes sure the man knows it. His expression hardens.
"And maybe when all this is said and done, maybe you can help her out, too, you know? Maybe you could help her lead, like, a normal life."
Owens listens, his breathing still slow and shallow and his eyes return to the young girl watching intently. She's studying him with an unreadable expression, and it suddenly sinks in all the things she was capable of doing. But so do Hopper's next words.
"One where she's not poked and prodded and treated like some kind of lab rat, you know?"
"I don't know," A protective and hostile glare is sent Owens way in the form of a greatly exaggerated sarcastic smile. "just a thought."
He yanks the belt tight assuring the man understood his threat. He flinches in pain and lets out a small groan. Once the belt is tied, his right hand comes to rest on Owens' shoulder and gives it a harsh squeeze.
"But, uh..." Hopper throws one last spiteful, and knowing look at him. Reminding the man silently of all she was risking by doing this. "think about it."
He doesn't let go until Owens nods feverishly, and his expression softens when he detects sincerity in the man's eyes. Hopper reaches for his holster and pulls out his revolver.
"Don't go anywhere," he says, handing the man his gun.
Owens' chuckles weakly at the man's words and winces immediately in pain. But he nods nonetheless and Hopper rises to his feet knowing he has done all he can for the time being. El's soft and widened eyes meet with his briefly, and the two disappear down the stairs.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Their journey to the hub was a tense and dubious one, and it was far too easy to doubt one's sense of direction. It was a maze, with danger lurking around every corner. Consciously, they knew the Demodogs were called to the lab and would most likely remain there to protect the gate. But that didn't encourage a single one of them to let their guard down. After a while, when hope had just begun to dwindle, the tunnels began to blend together and they knew instantly they were close.
None of them were prepared for what they saw next.
"God," Lucas gasps.
Surrounding them were several engorged, purple spores that spit more flakes into the air around them.
"What is this place?" Max wondered aloud.
"Guys, come on." Steve orders, marching on. "Keep moving."
The party obeys, happy to get the task over. All except the last party member who lingers at the back. Dustin reaches the small alcove last as his friends continue on, his attention captured by one of many pods on the ceiling. Completely perplexed, he finds himself fixed on the odd plant as it begins to breathe.
"What the hell?" His mouth hangs open behind his mask in a small gasp.
The pod continues to grow in size while simultaneously shrinking in on itself. In seconds, it spews a fresh batch of spores directly into the boy's face, sending him into a panic. He collapses to the mucky ground in a screaming fit, and he writhes around for a moment as he tries to stumble to his feet. Finally, he finds his footing and runs after the others screaming and sputtering.
"Help! Help! Help!"
"Dustin!" Mike cries out.
The others have already turned around and made their way to him at fast as they can. All the while, Dustin sprints across the alcove before his face plants in the ground when his foot snags on a vine.
"Dustin!"
"Dustin?!"
They scramble around him, trying to get a good look at him to find out what went wrong when Steve roughly shoves them aside to check on the boy.
"What happened? What happened?!"
Dustin is now doubled over on his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering as high pitched screeches tumble out of his mouth.
"It's in my mouth! Some got in my mouth!" He takes a deep breath. "SHIIIIIIIT!"
The others watch as more coughs shake his body, and quickly he begins spitting in a desperate manner. Finally, he begins to calm and that is when he feels all eyes still watching him. He looks up at them slowly, panting as he comes down from his panic attack.
"I'm okay," he says softly.
Everyone lets out a sigh, both overwhelmingly relieved and frustrated. They do not skimp put on giving him a quick scolding.
"You serious?" Max hisses.
"Very funny, man," Steve grumbles, standing up and resuming the journey. "Nice. Very nice."
"Jesus. What an idiot."
The party follows after Steve in a buzz of anger and Dustin scrambles to his feet in fear of being left behind. "Hang on, wait. Wait!"
The journey does not last long after, for within minutes they find themselves at the entrance of an even larger opening. They at once know this is the place they came for when they gaze upon the cavern they now find themselves at the edge of.
"Alright, Wheeler," Steve clicks his tongue as the others pool around at his side, gawking at the scene. "I think we found your hub."
Stretched out before them was a vast area roughly the size of the Byers kitchen and dining room combined. It was quite spacious. The ceiling had doubled in height and arched into the center to form a dome. Giant, purple spores identical to the one Dustin had encountered dotted the ceiling. And just as the map had predicted, multiple pathways connected all around them.
"Let's drench it," Mike orders.
The team sets to work divvied up amongst the hub. Each of them carries their source of fuel for the fire they had brought along with them. The stench of mold and decay was quickly buried under the gallons of lighter fluid they began dispersing. Lucas - who had been smart enough to snatch up the pesticide sprayer back at the house - covered the ceiling whiles the others secured the walls and ground around them.
Not a drop was left over.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Pain ripped from Y/n's throat in the form of a strenuous battle cry. Bursting forth from her palms were great billowy waves of heat, veins began to spread to her cheeks and jaw. Her cries end only to gasp for air. Her chest begins heaving at an alarming rate as her lungs swallow as much oxygen as they can take. A whimper breaks out though it is hard to be heard over Will's terrifying screeches.
Jonathan's hand around Nancy grows tighter, and he turns to her still fearfully. "It's not working."
He shifts attention to his mother. "It's not working! Mom, are you listening to me? It's not working!"
"Just wait!"
Y/n cries out once more, it has lost most of its anger and it sounded more wounded than anything. Jonathan's eyes fly back to her before hardening at his mother.
"We can't! Look...! Look at him!" He sputters, storming his mother's side. "Look at her! You're killing them! Y/n, stop. That's enough!"
"Jonathan, wait!"
Ignoring his mother, he calls after the girl as he marches for the heater ready to turn it off. His mother pries him away from the heater, but he does not go down without a fight. His mouth parts to argue, but Y/n quickly recaptures everyone's attention.
A grunt brews in her stomach and erupts from her chest. She shakes her head, her attention never leaving Will.
"N-no! I..." she whimpers again, and she feels her cracked and dried lips dampen with blood that dripped from her nose. "I can... do it!"
"Y/n, no!"
Will's head whips to his side in and urgent and unnaturally rigid manner, his now completely back eyes zero in on Jonathan.
"GET HER AWAY! GET HER AWAY! GET HER AWAY!" Jonathan's eyes double in size at the horrific sight, and what he says next is enough to paralyze him. "KILL HER! KILL HER!"
His head never moved, but his body never stopped. His fighting grew more intense and forceful, now breaking away at his skin as his wrists and ankles began to bleed.
"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"
The words buy a single moment's worth of shocked hesitation among the others, all apart from Y/n. She still had one more thing to try, and she knew she had to act fast. While the Mind Flayer's attention was diverted she had slipped to the other side of his bed, and reached for his arm.
The skin of her heated palm nearly made contact with his, but before it could she heard a snap, and she was out on the floor less than a second later.
"Y/n!"
"Will, no!"
Will's left hand had broken free from its restraint, sent flying through the air and into her face. His knuckles burrowed into the side of her head, throwing her back with a surprising amount of force. On her way down, a horrible screech left her throat that was soon cut short with a dull thud when her skull hit the cast iron fireplace knocking her out.
In the immediate moments that followed, they saw Will throw himself to the side of the bed. Joyce lunged after him, fearing he was trying to pry himself free from his other restraints, but to her horror she found his nails raking into Y/n's face, repeatedly.
"Will, stop! STOP! NO!"
Joyce and Nancy both run to the girl's aid as quick as they can. Joyce jumps at her son to restrain him while Nancy manages to drag the unconscious girl out and around the bed, safe from the Mind Flayer's reach. Joyce fights hard against her struggling son as he tries to reach after Y/n, but quickly his attention snaps to his mother. He whirls on her in seconds, his free arm shooting up at her and his now bloodied hand clamps tightly around her throat. Her hands fly to his wrists, now pawing at him as she tries to pry herself free from his grip.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The deeper they venture into Hawkins Lab, the closer they get to the heart of it all; the gate. Already, the familiar spores of the Upside Down have leaked into the atmosphere, the air cold and stiff. Hopper's flashlight journey's down the hall, finding the end marked by the two giant elevator doors. The very same himself and Joyce had entered the previous year to find Will.
What they heard next only confirmed the gate was just around the corner. It was the horrific howls of the Demodogs, and they were closer than ever as their shrill echoes bounced down the barren tiled hall.
"Stay here," Hopper repeats.
El stands rigid with her eyes fixed on the hall ahead, the closer she got the more vivid the memories grew. She watches studiously, not daring for a second to take her eyes off of Hopper as peers around the corner. Even if he did have the gun, even if he did tell her he would take care of them for her. That he was there to protect her, she'd knew now she'd never stop looking out for him.
Hopper's attention never strays as he slowly inches forward towards the lab. Just hours ago he had been in this very room when they broke through. As far as he could tell at that moment, the entry was clear but he knew the room itself was far from that. When he approaches the door - his footsteps still light and silent - he takes cover in the corner up against the door. He pulls his large pocket knife from his pocket, unfolding it, and slowly brings it into view.
Sure enough, in the slim and shaky reflection he spots several dozen Demodogs, all packed around the entrance to the gate.
They were guarding it.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Help black lives. Black Lives Matter!!! Black lives will ALWAYS matter!! More ways to help down below, link in the comments as usual!
Here's a masterlist of 62 petition links thanks to the wonderful @ emerald-studies on tumblr. You shouldn't need an account to view this
Me: *writing the next ch. to Will the Wise realizing I never planned what is actually in the Missing Experiment files and now I actually have to be creative*
