Hawkins, Indiana. July 8, 1979.

She counted the number of steps the guard took as he paced in front of her cell. Eight forward, eight backward. As usual, she could tell he didn't want to be there, but he was there because somebody had to watch her. Somebody had to make sure she didn't escape. After all, she was the oldest, the smartest, and the most developed in terms of her powers.

But she wasn't Brenner's prize subject, no. That title went to Eleven. Eleven, the one who'd been born in the lab. Eleven, Brenner's favorite. Eleven, Brenner's daughter. All of them had known it.

Two shot dead.

Three and Four pushed past their limit.

Five lost beyond the gate.

Six drowned.

Seven starved.

Nine killed Ten and himself.

There were four of them left. One, Eight, Eleven, and Twelve. She was One. The first. The original. Brenner's first failure. But One knew she wasn't as useless as he said.

She could get out.

One focused on the guard. Focused on getting into his head, on making him do what she wanted. For a few moments, he stopped pacing and she held her breath, intensifying her power for those few moments that she was able to. Blood dripped from her nose but she didn't care.

Then there a click, followed by a muffled bang.

She tried to push open her cell door, and it worked. Abstaining from the victory dance she wanted to do, she ran down the hall, towards where they kept Twelve. He was the most lightly guarded out of the four of them, due to him still being a toddler. Two years old, to be precise. And One would be damned if she let him stay in this hell like she had.

His guards fell asleep, as she'd willed them to, and she took the keycard to open the cell. Inside, Twelve was sleeping on his little cot. One picked him up, willing him to sleep as deeply as she could. He couldn't wake up before they made it outside, or all this would be for nothing. Her months of careful planning, set ablaze because of a panicked child.

And then she ran.

Hawkins, Indiana. July 4, 1985.

She was doing it again.

Mike leaned against the doorframe, looking at Eleven as she sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room. A dark cloth was tied around her eyes and the TV was set to static, and he knew exactly what she was doing. It had become a near daily ritual since she'd returned to his life. Just a few minutes, every day, in the void. To him, it was good that she had some constants besides him and their friends. And Hopper and Joyce.

"No," she sighed, untying the cloth to reveal her eyes.

"No luck?" he asked, crossing the room to be next to her.

"Not yet, but I'll find them, Mike."

Them. The other children.

Ever since she told him about the lab, he'd known that she was far from the only child they'd experimented on. There had been at least ten others, and of those ten, she'd met one. He had no idea where she'd met Eight or how, but she'd met one of her 'siblings'. Hopper had tried to discourage her from performing the ritual on more than a few occasions.

"Doc Owens showed me the files, kid. Except for you and Eight, they're all gone."

"I don't believe you" was all she'd said and continued with it anyway.

"You'll find one someday."

"I hope so. I want to know they're okay."

He extended a hand and helped her to her feet. She grabbed a tissue from the box that sat on the end table and wiped off some of the blood that dripped from her nose.

"Hopper said it's time to go. We're gonna be late."

Eleven nodded and followed him to his bike, locking the cabin behind them. Together, the two soon-to-be high schoolers headed out to the road and towards Main Street, which was all decorated for the Fourth of July. Up and down the road, there were vendors and the like plying their wares for the holiday. Several waved as they passed and Mike and El both waved back as a show of friendliness.

"What is all this?" she whispered.

"Oh, um… it's to celebrate our country being free from England. It happened over two hundred years ago, and we have this celebration every year on July 4. There's lots of food and fireworks."

"Fun."

"Yeah, it's a lot of fun, and now we're going to meet up with everyone else."

El smiled; it was so nice to be able to be out in public with Mike and the others. She didn't have to worry about the lab anymore, and she finally had a real family. And, come September, she'd be joining them in high school. For the first time, she'd be a normal girl without worrying about the Upside-Down or the Gate. She could spend time with them at school and learn all they did.

"Seven four one-nine-eight-five."

"July 4, 1985."

"Right."

The brown-haired girl smiled at her brother, who gazed at her with his wide hazel eyes. He was eight years old, and she'd been trying to teach him to keep track of dates.

"And why is today important?"

"Because today is Independence Day for the rest of the country."

"When is our Independence Day?"

"July 8."

"That's right."

Ollie touched the 012 tattooed on his forearm. Instinctively, she did the same with the 001 on hers. Eleven numbers between them, but closer than any of the others.

"I'm going to make us some dinner, okay? You stay where you are."

Kat went into the small kitchen at the back of the house and turned on the stove. Ollie leaned back with a comic book she'd brought him to help improve his reading skills and felt himself relax. This was a good life. He liked it more than the one she'd told him she'd had before they'd left the bad place.

Outside, he heard an unfamiliar sound. It sounded like something crunching over the gravel. He stood up and peeked out the window to see a car and a man with white hair. The white-haired man began walking towards the house, looking directly at Ollie, who stepped back in a panic.

"Kat!" he called.

"What is it?"

There was a knock at the door and Kat turned off the stove before running to Ollie. She lowered her face so she was whispering in his ear.

"Ollie, run."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"No, you're not. I need you to run—run into town and hide. Run like I did six years ago and be safe. They want me, not you."

"But I'm like you, aren't I?"

"I have more powers than you—powers they want. I need you to run, now."

Ollie nodded and ran for the back door, where he slipped out without a sound and hid in the bushes. He could hear Kat yelling and a gun firing, and then there was silence. His heart was pounding as he watched the white-haired man lead other men out of the house, Kat carried between some of them. Her nose was bleeding and he could feel nothing but panic.

And so he did exactly what Kat had told him to.

He ran.

The sun had almost completely set and Steve Harrington was going to pick up his kids.

Well, they weren't exactly his kids, but Max had often joked that Steve was like a single mother of five (six, if you counted El as his daughter-in-law) so that's what had stuck. He was supposed to pick the kids up at the festival and bring them back to the Byers for a fireworks show that the Chief was putting on there. Eleven was with the others for once, so he didn't have to pick her up. It was going to be smooth sailing.

He listened to the Queen song that was playing on the radio—"Don't Stop Me Now"—and hummed to the beat. It was probably one of the weirder songs the band had released, to be honest. His eyes were still on the road as his lights illuminated the pavement ahead.

Then a kid ran into the road.

Steve slammed on his brakes, stopping before he could hit the kid. He got out of the car and found the kid crouching, covering his head with his hands and shuddering with fear.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked. "Are you hurt?"

The kid looked up at him with big hazel eyes. He had dark brown hair and a skinny look, not unlike that of Will, and he was terrified. Obviously, he'd seen some shit and was trying to get to safety. And Steve couldn't think of anywhere safer than the Byers. He extended a hand to the kid, who accepted the help and stood up.

"How old are you?"

"Eight."

"Well, come on. Let's get you some help."

"Can't. She said to hide in town."

"Who said to hide?"

"Kat."

"I have a place you can hide." The kid rubbed a spot on his forearm and Steve saw numbers.

012.

Twelve.

"Yeah, I definitely know a place you can hide, kid. It's safe and nobody will find you, I promise. Do you have a name, or… do you go by Twelve?"

"Oliver. But Kat calls me Ollie."

"Ollie… I'm Steve. Come with me and I'll show you where you can hide."

As he'd expected, Ollie shook his head.

"She told me to hide in town."

"And the place I'm offering is still in town… technically. I'm heading there now anyway, so I'll drop you off before I finish up."

Ollie narrowed his eyes and Steve could tell the kid didn't trust him. He got it, though; El hadn't really trusted anybody either.

"It's better than letting some bad men pick you up."

"How far is it?"

"Not too far. Come on."

Ollie got in the car—begrudgingly—and Steve buckled the kid's seatbelt as a safety precaution. Once Ollie was secured, Steve started the car back up and drove towards the Byers.

"You were supposed to wait for Steve."

Hopper's annoyed tone made Mike roll his eyes a bit.

"Yeah, I know, but El was feeling uncomfortable with all the people around and wanted to come early."

"So you all decided to leave without maybe calling him and telling him there was a change of plans?"

"Shit," Dustin muttered.

As if to punctuate Dustin's sentiment, there was a crunching of tires on gravel as a car pulled into the driveway. Specifically, Steve's car. The soon-to-be senior got out and, to everyone's surprise, his passenger-side door opened to reveal a kid who couldn't have been older than nine. The kid looked at Steve with nervousness in his disposition before Steve approached the house. Joyce let him and the kid in, a confused expression on her face.

"Steve, who's this?"

"This is Ollie. He needs help."

Eleven's eyes locked with Ollie's and she could tell that he was afraid. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak. She noticed numbers on his forearm, in the same place as hers.

012.

Number Twelve.

She'd found one.