The first time she went away, it had almost killed him. The second time was even worse.

Mike Wheeler could remember every detail of that terrible afternoon in late February, 1985. He had just gotten home from school and was settling in to start on his homework, anxious to get it over with so he could call El after dinner. As he sat down at his desk, he reached over and flipped on his SuperComm in case the guys had questions on their own work, or one of them just needed a break. Immediately, a familiar voice crackled over the speaker.

"Wheeler? If you're there, pick up."

The frantic voice of Chief Hopper repeated his call as Mike reached for the radio. Behind his voice, Mike could make out the distinct whine of the Blazer's engine being pushed to its limit.

"I'm here, what's wrong?" he answered, knowing that if the Chief was reaching out to him like that, it couldn't be anything good.

"Are you at home?" Hopper asked.

"Yeah, I just got home. What's going on?" Mike repeated.

Ignoring the question, Hopper plowed on. "I'll be there in about a minute. Meet me out front. If you're not there, I've got to keep going."

Not bothering to respond, Mike dropped the radio and sprinted out of his room and down the stairs. At the front door he stopped long enough to grab a coat and to snatch his shoes up off the floor where he kicked them off just minutes before. Sensing the Chief was serious about not waiting for him, Mike dashed out the front door with shoes in hand, knowing he could put them on once was in the truck. His socks were quickly soaked as he ran across the recently fallen snow covering the front yard, but his mind was gripped by raw panic and he barely noticed the cold.

From down the block, Mike picked up on the sound of the Blazer revving hard as it rounded the corner. Moments later, the truck slammed to a stop where Mike was standing and he quickly climbed in. Before Mike could even finish slamming the door shut, Hopper was off again, kicking up a spray of muddy slush in the vehicle's wake. Looking over at the Chief, Mike was startled to realize how ashen-white his face was. With the steering-wheel gripped tight in one hand, he held the radio's microphone in the other, tapping out a frantic message. While Mike wasn't quite as proficient as Will when it came to Morse code, he picked out enough words to get a sense of what was happening, and his heart began to sink.

TIME TO GO

DRESS WARM

REMEMBER THE PLAN

MIKE HERE

When he finally stopped tapping out his message, they rode in silence for almost a minute before her response beeped over the radio:

OK

Only when Hopper had hung up the handset did Mike finally speak. "What happened?"

"Dr. Owens called about ten minutes ago. He's been keeping an ear to the ground since the lab closed, trying to figure out if we're in the clear. He's just gotten word from one of his sources that Brenner's second-in-command has figured out El's still alive, that she's still here in town, and that he's put together a crew to try and recover her. Owens thinks we have less than a day to clear out. I don't plan to take that long."

"So where are we going to go?" Mike asked, terrified he was not part of the Chief's plans but trying to hold onto a shred of hope. The pained, apologetic look Hopper gave him was all it took to destroy him completely.

"I can't lose her again," Mike choked out as hot tears broke free from his eyes and ran unheeded down his cheeks.

"I know kid," he said softly. "And I'm sorry. If there was any other way, I would. Owens is already pulling the birth certificate he crafted for her back out of the system, so I think I can make the two of us disappear. I don't know how to get you out too. And you have your family here still, I can't take you away from them."

Mike had known for a long time this was a possibility, and he believed Hopper when he said there was no other way, but it didn't make the situation any less heartbreaking. For the rest of the drive out to the cabin, where he had been desperately trying to keep her safe, the only sound to be heard was the whine of the engine as they plowed through the chunky slush covering the road.

As Hopper pulled to a stop where the road dead-ended at a fallen tree, Mike saw El standing there waiting with two black duffel bags and a backpack over one shoulder. It was clear they had planned out this routine well in advance, just in case they had to drop everything and run someday. Her face was nearly hidden by the thick hood of her coat but Mike could still see her own face was raw and wet with tears to match his own. While Hopper jumped out to take the bags from her and toss them into the back of the Blazer, Mike scrambled into the backseat where he knew she would join him.

Climbing in next to Mike, El threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. Pulling her into a tight hug, Mike couldn't seem to find his voice, despite knowing he only had a few minutes to say all the things he had hoped he would have a lifetime to tell her. Instead, they held tight to one another, soaking each-other's shoulders as Hopper turned the Blazer around and drove back up to the main road.

Pulling to a stop, Hopper looked in the rear-view mirror at the pair in the backseat and felt his own heart breaking at the thought of having to separate the two of them. Still, he knew above all else, he had to keep her safe, even if that meant tearing her away from the life she knew.

"Alright, this is it you guys. You need to say your goodbyes." Hopper said quietly. "We've got to get going."

Pulling apart, they stared deep into each-other's eyes for a long time, unsure of just what to say. Finally, knowing no words could adequately sum up everything he wanted to tell her, Mike leaned in and pressed his lips gently to hers. Fighting to keep from breaking down entirely, El leaned into the kiss and pulled him tight. Finally pulling apart, Mike tried desperately to put right what he knew could be his final words to her.

"This isn't goodbye forever, just goodbye for now. I will find you again someday." he said, holding her hands tight in his own. "I love you, El."

Giving his hands a squeeze, she forced a smile to her lips, fighting the pain in her chest. "I love you, Mike."

With that, Mike climbed out of the Blazer, turning to address Hopper as he stepped into the ankle-deep snow on the side of the road.

"Keep her safe. Whatever you do, take care of her."

"I will," Hopper vowed. "I promise."

With that, Hopper put the Blazer in gear again and started down the road out of Hawkins. All Mike could do was stand there and watch as the tail-lights grew smaller in the distance. When the truck finally turned the corner and vanished from sight, Mike turned around and started walking toward home, breaking down sobbing as he did so. He never was quite sure how he made it home that night; several times he remembered laying down in the snow and willing the world to simply swallow him up.

That had been twelve years ago now, but the pain of that afternoon burned as fresh in Mike Wheeler's mind as the day it happened. For a few years, postcards had come in from all across the country, first in Hopper's handwriting and later, in El's own hand as she caught up on missed years of schooling. They came from cities big and small, and alternated between both coasts, as well as states in-between. Mike was certain Hopper was sending them as they passed through, or sent them through an intermediary who would pass them along; anything to hide where they really were living. The messages were always similar, expressing how much she missed him and assurances they were still safe.

Eventually, the postcards stopped too, though Mike was certain they were alright. He hoped the silence meant they had found someplace to settle down and build a new life for themselves. Mike never forgot Eleven and promised himself he would see her again someday. Every time business brought him to a new city, he kept a keen eye open for some familiar sign in the faces he passed. The thought passed through his mind once more as he drove out of the rental car lot at Sea-Tac International airport in Seattle, Washington and headed out toward the coast on his latest sales call.