Mike is waiting in the AV room a full half hour before he knows the others will arrive. He's eager to tell them, despite knowing it won't be any easy sell. Many times he shook his head and gathered his things, telling himself he was obviously losing it and desperate to get laid. Still, considering the doubts building up within him, Mike stayed out until Dustin breezed in.

"What are you doing here so early?" He frowns, glances toward the clock in confusion.

"I had a dream. And there was this girl -"

"Whoa, buddy. I don't want to hear about your wet dreams." Dustin is grinning though as he sets about unloading his textbooks and folders. "Though, it is about time. Was starting to worry you were like, a-sexual or something."

Mike blushes and scowls. "It's not like that - Well, it is, but more than that -"

"I had a dream about that chick from that Duran Duran video-"

"Shut up, dude! I'm trying to tell you something important." Mike can no longer sit still and begins pacing the cramped space. "I've been having dreams about this girl for like, a long time, ok. And I thought they were just dreams and my brain made her up, right? Well, she's real. She talked to me, Dustin. I think..." Mike pauses in his track and sets a serious look at his friend. Dustin's face is inscrutable, but he's not cutting him off and calling him crazy. Yet. "I think she needs help." He swallows thickly, the worry and fear that he's tried to keep down since waking up suddenly choking him.

"Is she hot?" Dustin asks after a moment, and Mike groans.

"You aren't listening to me!"

Will Byers shuffles in at that moment, wide dark eyes seemed permanently ringed with dark circles and coffee thermos in one hand. He lifts an eyebrow and Dustin shakes his head.

"Our friend is losing it," he supplies with a sigh.

"No, I'm not." Mike is getting angry now, clenching his fists. "This is serious!"

"What's going on?" Will's voice is soft and quiet, kind of like him, but there's concern there too and Mike thinks maybe, if any of his friends are going to believe him, it's Will.

"Mike had a dream about some hottie that told him she was real. And now he's lost his mind. I'm tellin ya, just need to get laid." Dustin smirks down at his chicken-scratch notes as Mike raked his fingers through his hair - it's already become much wilder than normal, sticking up at odd angles. Come to think of it, Will realizes that Mike is wearing the same rumpled clothes from yesterday. This is very unlike him.

"Her name is Eleven," Mike says, edging on desperation as he appeals to Will. "She had a tattoo of it on her arm. A-and she said she saw us in the woods by where she lives! She said they're keeping her somewhere and she can't come back -"

"What, is this like a new campaign?" Max's voice cuts him off and Mike punches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "If so, it sounds crazy cool. Save the princess with a twist. I'm down."

Lucas huffs a laugh as they find a spot together, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. "We haven't played in years," Lucas says. "Aren't we too old?"

"Well first of all, you're never too old to Dungeons and Dragons," Dustin says with authority. "Secondly, no. Mike -"

"I can speak," Mike deadpans with a glare. Dustin gestures for him to do so, and Mike takes a deep breath. Lucas will be the hardest sell, as he's naturally skeptical of everything. Mike doesn't actually care what Max thinks - she's not really part of the party anyway. "Ok, so, I've been having dreams about this girl. For a while. And last night, she finally spoke to me and showed me her face. She told me that her name is Eleven, that she can't visit my dreams anymore. That whoever is holding her - that if she keeps coming I will be in danger."

It's silent enough to hear a pin drop and Mike's pulse is thundering in his ears. Lucas's face is a mask of calm, unreadable blandness. Max looks intrigued.

"So... what?" Lucas asks.

"So she's real! I have to help her."

"How does any of this make sense?" The y'all, muscular teen glances at his girlfriend and inwardly groans to see that she's eating it up. Max has always been imaginative, but Lucas doesn't approve of her feeding into Mike's craziness.

"I couldn't make this up," Mike says. "Not the name, the tattoo..."

"What kind of tattoo?" Max asks. Her sea-green eyes are alight with curiosity. The bell rings shrilly overhead, it's time for homeroom.

"I gotta go." Lucas moves to the doorway, where students rush in a flurry of voices and color.

"I can't be tardy again," Will agrees.

"Yeah, Mrs Morton will have my ass if I'm late. Sorry Mike." Dustin pats his shoulder and the three teens leave. Mike slumped against the table, defeated. Max is still standing there, backpack hanging on one shoulder and her skateboard tucked under the other arm.

"Aren't you going to be late, too?" Mike snaps.

"Yeah, But fuck PE. This is way cooler." She closes the door and Mike watches, a shocked smile slowly stretching over his lips, as she sets her things down.

"You believe me?"

"No," she says with a shrug. "But I think you do. And I can help."

For the first time ever, Mike thinks that Lucas is truly one lucky bastard.

"Eleven."

She glances up, eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. The chamber is small and sterile, nothing like the glimpses she's seen of Mike's bedroom and other places where he lives. They seem warm and cozy, inviting. Her room is a narrow cot and two-way glass so that she may be observed at all times.

Papa is standing in the doorway. He has a box in his hands. Swiping the back of her hand over her cheek, Eleven turns to him.

After last night, he'd left her. In the dark, eery silence. She had cried until she fell asleep, pillow damp and salty. She hadn't dared try to find him again. She never would, if it meant keeping him safe.

"Kali and I have been talking about you. May I sit?" She nods once, though she knows it wouldn't matter if she said no. She didn't truly have a choice.

"Kali says that you are needing to feel... special. That as you've grown, you've come to need more than I have provided for you here." Papa seems uncomfortable and Eleven watches him with wide, confused eyes. She's never seen him act anything other than cold, detached. Even when he tries to act nice, more so when she was younger, but he could not keep up the charade. Now, he seems unsure, almost as uncertain as she feels.

"I'm going to make you a deal, Eleven. I'm going to make an effort to provide some comforts, some luxuries, here for you. And you will no longer seek to explore the world outside." Papa leans towards her, dark eyes hypnotic as he gazes into her face. She has the blank mask in place, revealing nothing. His eyebrows rise and he shoves the box at her. Carefully, Eleven lifts the lid - she doesn't know why she imagines the dead cat will be nestled inside - and gasps softly.

There is a soft pink garment, and Eleven pulls it out with delight. She can't hide her smile, examining the dress.

"I can see that you like it. I've scheduled a special date for you, Eleven. How would you like a friend?"

It's too good to be true and she realizes it, sagging slightly and frowning at him. Nothing is ever done freely here. He expects something in return. Is it worth it? She gazes at her pretty frock, thinking of how she wishes she could show Mike. Instantly tears prick her eyes and she swallows them back, gulping down her emotions. Can't think of him. Must protect him no matter what.

"Yes, papa." She has no other choice.