November 4, 1984
No one said a word on the ride back. One way or another, it was all over, and all they could do was stare out the windows, count stop signs, try their best to pretend they didn't notice the way Mike trembled under the yellow light of every passing streetlamp, wait.
When they got to the Byers', Mike went straight for Will's room, digging up his supercom and calling out again and again until Steve pried it from his fingers.
"That thing's range is way too short-"
Mike wrestled it back. "That's not the point-"
"She's probably really drained," Dustin offered. "She'll need time to recharge."
"The chief will bring her back here," Lucas reasoned. "Sit down."
But Mike couldn't sit down. Everything in him buzzed. He walked up and down the hall, walked circles around the kitchen table, stopping only to look out the front windows every time he passed. He mentally calculated over and over the time it should take them to drive back from the lab. He added the time it might take them if they had to stop for gas. And go to the bathroom. And change a flat tire. He imagined everything that could've possibly gone wrong, counting every miserable second of an hour before the crunch of gravel and headlights through the window signaled company.
He was out the door in a heartbeat. Steve tumbled after him, swearing, and caught him by the jacket just before he could throw himself off the porch. "We did not survive all that just for you to get run over-"
It was Jonathan.
They spilled from the car, sweaty and exhausted and triumphant. Joyce was last, cradling Will to her chest. "He's alright," she whispered as they rushed in, giving them a shaky smile. "He's alright, it's gone, it's gone, he's sleeping. Shh. He's sleeping." Everyone followed as she carried him up the porch steps and inside. "Don't wake him up. Here, help me put him in bed." Jonathan pulled back his sheets as Joyce laid him down, and they both tucked him carefully in as the others watched from the doorway.
Nancy moved quietly beside Mike.
"Have you talked to Chief Hopper?" he asked.
"A little. Our connection was bad. They closed the gate. They were bringing Dr. Owens to the hospital, but we told them to come here after."
"Eleven's okay?"
"... I'm sure she's fine."
Mike huffed.
Nancy pulled him suddenly into a hug, and for a moment, he was too surprised to move. "I'm really glad you're okay," she whispered.
Immediately, guilt grabbed hold of him. Once again, he'd gotten so lost in his own head and his fear of losing Eleven that he'd forgotten she'd already lost Barbara- and tonight she'd gone with Jonathan as he'd fought not to lose Will. She was scared to lose him, too. He hesitated, then leaned into her. "You, too."
"... Oh my god, you reek. Like gasoline. What did you do?"
Again, headlights blinked in the windows, and again, Mike was running out the door with Steve right behind him. Finally, it was Hopper's SUV... passenger seat empty.
Terror curled its fingers around Mike's heart and squeezed. He stumbled, and Steve caught him. "Where is she?" he shouted, voice hoarse. "Where is she?"
The Chief climbed out, turning wordlessly to open the back door. Laid in the back seat, blood smeared from her nose all the way down her neck, black shirt glittering with it- "El." The Chief brushed a wild curl from her face. "Come on, kid," he murmured. "Mike's here."
Her eyelids fluttered. "Mike?"
All the air rushed from his lungs, and his eyes filled with tears, but a breathless smile pulled at his lips. "Eleven." He tore free from Steve, flying off the porch and elbowing his way past Hopper. He held her tight as he could, and she curled her fingers in his shirt with a sigh.
The others hovered on the porch, unable to move, all too afraid to ask.
"It's over," Hopper told them. "It's all over."
"Three weeks after she disappeared, Thomas Barnes came to me claiming he'd been attacked by a wild little boy in the woods. Stole his coat and hat. I started leaving food for her, and she came out right after Christmas, so we fixed up the cabin and I've been taking care of her there."
"All by yourself?"
"Joyce... I'm sorry. I didn't want to give you something else to worry about. I did the best I could."
"No." It was Nancy, wrapped up in a blanket, glaring at him from across the room. "You shouldn't have kept them apart."
Every head in the room turned to where Mike and Eleven slept on the living room couch. In the dark, their bodies were indistinguishable. It was intimate in a way that hurt to watch; Hopper looked down into his coffee instead. "They were watching him even closer than they were watching me, and if they'd thought for a moment that she was alive, that she was here, they would not have hesitated to use him to get to her." He looked her in the eyes. "Or to kill him if he got between them and what they wanted."
Nancy paled. Jonathan reached over to cover her hand with his.
"So, what now?" Joyce demanded. "You continue to hide her out there?"
"Yes and no."
"Hop."
"I... convinced Dr. Owens to help her. She'll still have to lay low for a while, but soon... soon for real this time... she can start to live."
"With Dr. Owens?"
"No! No." Again, he looked down into his coffee. "With me."
It was nearly one in the morning before they all stepped once more out of the Byers' house and into the moonlight. Billy led Max to his car in silence; she gave them all a reassuring little wave as they pulled away. Steve volunteered to drive the rest of them home, but as they piled into the car, Mike hung back, holding tight to Eleven's hand.
"Go on, kid," Hopper murmured, taking one last draw from his cigarette before squashing it under his boot. "Go get some sleep."
Mike only glared.
Hopper hoped the ache it put in his gut didn't show, and rolled his eyes. "You don't trust me? Fine. Trust her. I couldn't keep her from you now if I wanted to. God himself couldn't."
Mike looked down at Eleven, searching her face. "Promise?"
She clearly didn't want to leave either, but she nodded. "Promise."
November 5, 1984
They'd tried to call Will from the phone at school, but Ms. Byers had told them not to worry, he was fine, he was still resting, the whole ordeal had really wiped him out, they had to head home and get some rest too. Lucas, Dustin, and Max seemed eager enough to do so, but Mike had other plans. After splitting from the others, he biked home as fast as he could. He dumped his bookbag in the den, promised his mother he'd start on the chores he'd missed over the weekend, then ran up to his room and grabbed his supercom, shutting himself in his closet.
For a long moment, he could only sit in anxious silence. What if she wasn't there?
"Eleven?" he finally whispered.
Nothing... and then, clear as day, "Mike."
He fought the lump of emotion that rose in his throat, the tears that he didn't want. "How do I find you?"
Mike might not have slept properly in over three days, but he'd never been more awake. The world rushed by in a blur of reds and golds as he flew down woodsy back roads that hardly anyone else ever traveled. The autumn air was sharp in his throat and his legs ached but he only pushed himself harder around every corner he turned. She was here, she was here, she was there at the end, at the edge of the woods, messy hair and frumpy sweater and too-big jeans and big brown eyes on the verge of tears.
He didn't even slow down- just stepped off his bike and let it crash as he stumbled into her, wrapping her up. "You're okay?" he gasped.
She nodded against his shoulder, little hands curling into his jacket and holding on tight. Yet another wave of relief washed over him- he had to be at least six feet underwater by now. They stood there for ages, reveling in each other's warmth, both trying to convince themselves that if they let go, the other wouldn't disappear.
Eleven's hair tickled his cheek, and he managed to pull back enough to take in the soft curls that now tumbled over her forehead; the tears that streaked her cheeks; her nose, red from the-
"Are you cold?"
She led him through the trees, around snares and over trip wires to a cabin with boarded windows but steady smoke drifting from the chimney. "You've been here this whole time?" he asked as they stepped inside. It was warm, cozy, comfy even- but that wasn't what he meant. She'd been so close.
She slipped off his jacket, hanging it by the door, and tugged him to her room- small, plain, neat. They sat on her bed, fingers still locked, knees pressed together.
Looking at her, the shadow of her eyelashes on her cheeks and the little scar over her eyebrow and the tired curve of her shoulders, the pressure in his chest swelled until suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. "Tell me everything," he whispered.
"I went to the upside down, but I got back out, and I tried to go to you, but it wasn't safe. I had to keep you safe."
"I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, "It wasn't your fault."
"I still wish..."
"I know."
"Where did you go, then?"
"I hid in the woods... then here. Then mama's."
"Your mom's?"
"I thought I could be home with her, but she's stuck in her dream circle."
"Her dream circle? Like in a coma?"
"Coma?"
He ducked his head. Her bed sheets had little pink flowers on them. Had the Chief bought them for her? Did she like flowers? "It's... somewhere between sleep and death."
"No. More somewhere between sleep and awake," she mused. "But she showed me. She showed me my sister."
"You have a sister?"
She brushed her fingers absentmindedly over her wrist. "008."
"Oh." How many others were there?
"I found her. In Chicago. She thought I could be home with her there... but she was festering. She was like the bad men. She... she tried to use me to do bad things, and when I wouldn't... when I stopped her..."
She couldn't finish, but she didn't have to. He squeezed her hands.
"You were in danger, so I came back."
He weighed his words. "Back home?"
She trembled, reached up to touch his cheek, fingertips feather-light. The way she looked at him, with regret and relief bordering awe and something even more than love, made his heart do strange things. "Yes. Home." Him.
His heart broke all the way open, all the hurt and all the need of a year spent not knowing rushing out in a big awful mess. "I don't have the words..."
But of course he didn't need them. "It's okay. I know." And then, "Me, too."
He pulled her in and held on tight. "Never again." Never again would someone cage her, hurt her, use her. Never again would they be torn apart. "I promise."
