I could seriously brag about you guys all day :) (sometimes I do lol). I have the best readers X) and I love writing for you guys. Because of all your kind reviews and awesome feedback, it's so rewarding every time I update! I smile at every single one and I wanted to give back again so here's another update:) enjoy lovelies!


Chapter 4:

Mike peeled his sticky shirt from his body, then shed the rest of his clothing quickly after. He stepped under the shower, letting the hot water wash over him. It met with the blood on his hands and neck, and it ran with the water down the length of his body, swirling down the drain. He leaned forward, resting his head against the shower wall. His eyes closed, and his body relaxed; for the first time since they went into the Upside Down, he relaxed.

He heard the door open, and for a brief moment, that feeling of panic tore through him. His eyes widened and he stood up straight. The only thing that calmed him down was the sound of her voice, soft and sweet, like some kind of soothing medicine for his mind.

"Mike?"

"What?" He asked, though she didn't respond. Instead, she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in behind him. He didn't turned to her, but chose to stay looking ahead at the wall instead. Eleven wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her hands flat against his chest on the other side of him. She pressed her now bare chest into his back, and her skin was surprisingly hot against him, even in comparison to the water.

"Are you okay?" It was a simple question with a very complicated answer. He was relieved, yes, that he was home and everyone was safe again. However, he was very far from okay. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see that face of that guard as he choked on his own blood. He could feel the tightening of hands around his throat, and he could hear the loud bang of shots firing around him. Those images assaulted him constantly, like he was still there, in the middle of it. only Eleven, and the others around him could pull him from those frightening thoughts.

"Glad to be home," he said, because it was the only comforting thing he could respond with that wasn't a lie. "What about you?" He felt her shoulders shrug against his back. "What's wrong?"

"I'm worried. You're sad." She didn't know a better word for it, though she was sure there were so many she could have used had she known them. "The blood... Will you tell me?" He hadn't really talked about it, not to Eleven or anyone else. He just showed up to rescue her covered in it, and she was curious. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask him about it.

"Does it matter?"

"It does to you."

"Fine," he sucked in a deep breath, but she kept her grip on his torso. Mike lifted his hands, looking at where the blood had crusted and the water had yet to wash it away. A guilty ridden frown warped his features. "I did what I had to do, El. I killed a man with my own hands. He was just doing his job, and I..." Mike knew it had been life or death for him, but it didn't make him feel any better. It didn't make him feel like it was okay to murder people. "I stabbed him, and it just poured out everywhere. All over both of us."

"You had to," she told him once he was done talking. She wouldn't push anymore; she just had to know where all that blood came from. "You had to, Mike." She could relate to an extent. However, Eleven wasn't raised with the same kind of morals that Mike was. She was bred to kill, as far as she was concerned. They didn't instill in her how wrong it was to take a life. However, Mike had that sort of innocence before everything happened. "You saved us."

"I know," he sighed. "I know I did, and I'm so happy to be here, with you. To know everyone is home and safe, I just..." He trailed off, not really having the right words to express how he felt. It was difficult, and even if he tried, he wasn't sure that Eleven would understand. "It's alright, El. I'll be okay." He turned, finally, and hugged her back. He tilted her face upwards and met her lips with his, kissing her softly for a long moment.

It felt so good, to be back with her again. To relax with her, to kiss her, all of it was amazing. Despite the horrors he witnessed, and the suffering he endured, all that mattered was being together again, without hiding in a closet or being dragged apart shortly after. They could finally relax together, sleep together, and wake up next to one another. He should just be happy. Eleven should be enough to make him feel okay again. Maybe in time, she would be. However, with all of it so fresh in his mind, replaying over and over, it was impossible to just be okay.

Every one needed time to heal. Eleven suffered in that lab as well, forced to do Dr. Walcott'a bidding no matter how painful or exhausting the task. Still, Eleven had been raised with that struggle. When she was young, Papa forced her to do all sorts of things. However, this time, they could push her harder and further because they had Mike and the others held captive. She would bare her own scars, but the only thing that mattered was helping Mike heal.

Later that night, after they both fell asleep, a horrible nightmare woke Mike in the middle of the night. He jerked up from the mattress, his hair plastered to his forehead from sweat, and cried out for Eleven. She sat up beside him, turning quickly to answer his call.

"You were gone," he panted. "I had to..." To kill again. He didn't want to say the words, so he let them remain on his lips, unspoken. Eleven knew what he meant, and she frowned.

"I'm here." She put a hand on his damp back, then rested her head on his firm shoulder. "I'm not gone." He clung to her, eyes closing to try and calm himself. Mike took deep breaths, slow and steady, until the panic subsided from his chest.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he told her after a few minutes. "You can go back to sleep now." Mike laid back down, letting his head and body sink down into the soft bed and pillows. It was just another reminder that he was home, next to Eleven where he belonged. She laid down with him, curling her body against his and clinging to his arm.

"Mike... will be okay..." Better words escaped her, but she hoped he understood. The pain would fade away eventually, and he would get better. The fear, and the guilt, would only last so long. They never had a choice. It was kill or be killed, but she knew that didn't exactly help Mike at the time. Maybe one day, when that realization sinks in, but not now. Not so soon after. No, Mike still needed time and help. Eleven cursed herself for not being better at comforting him, and not having the right words to say at the right times. If she was better at it, maybe he'd get better sooner.


Nancy shivered a little as Jonathan's lips met her stomach. Chills spread down her legs, and up her chest. He smiled at the tiny, visible bumps, then lifted his lips to meet hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

"I missed you so much," she sighed once she pulled away to breathe. "I'm so happy... that you're finally home." Johnathan rolled over to lay by her side, his hand trailing back down to her stomach, letting his fingertips ghost over the soft skin and imagining what lay underneath.

"It's all thanks to Mike. He saved everyone." He looked over at Nancy, his expression darkening slightly. "They were going to kill me and Steve and everyone but Mike. Even he would have to go eventually, but not until they were done with Eleven. We were all expendable, except Mike. I was the next one to go. They took me to a separate room and strapped me down to a chair. If Mike didn't do something when he did, I would have been killed or worse."

"Enough," she said, bringing her hand to his cheek. She brushed her thumb over his lips then left it there to silence him. "I don't want to know anymore. I hate thinking about what you and my brother went through. I've never seen Mike so... in pieces before. And I don't want to imagine my life without you, so just... stop talking."

"Alright," he agreed, sliding his arm underneath her to draw her closer. He kissed the top of her head. "You're right. We're home, and that's all that matters." He wished that was true. Everyone that the lab took hostage had wounds to mend. It was the closest to death most of them had ever come to, and the horrors of the lab were endless. Eleven's screams, the awful food they received only once a day, all of it was a lot to just forget so quickly. He wondered how everyone else was doing, especially Mike.

"I should've done something."

"What could you have done?" Johnathan raised an eyebrow at her. "You're pregnant. Not to mention that you're mixed up with my family, and everyone thinks we're crazy. No one would have believed you, and you couldn't do anything on your own."

"I just... I should have tried."

"No, Nance. You shouldn't have. This," Johnathan said, flattening his hand against Nancy's stomach. "This is what matters the most now. Protecting this." She blushed slightly, then nodded. He was right, but at the same time, Johnathan was her fiance now, her everything. Not to mention, she didn't want her baby growing up without its father. It didn't really matter, though. Not anymore. It was over, and they were all home. She knew she should just take it as is and be happy.


MIke was pouring himself a glass of orange juice, the only thing that hadn't gone bad while they were gone other than the water. He downed it quickly, enjoying the taste after having such bland food in the lab. He quickly started to pour another glass when he heard a knock on the door.

Eleven bounced to it from the couch, pulling it open quickly. Her eyes widened though, and Mike realized why pretty quickly. Jesse stood there, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. Mike sighed, then set his glass down.

"You alright, man?" Mike asked, heading to the door. Jesse looked like hell, even more so than Mike. Eleven didn't like Jesse, not really, after everything he put her through. However, even she couldn't help but feel sympathy for the clearly distressed man.

"I don't have anywhere to go. Without Derek, I can't afford the apartment. They're kicking me out. I was gone a month, and they won't give me a break. I can't tell them the truth, so I guess I don't blame them." He looked at his feet. "Can I just... crash here for a little bit?"

Eleven and Mike looked at each other. Jesse had put Eleven through a lot, but Eleven knew that Mike had forgiven him. They found mutual respect, and Jesse apologized for everything once or twice during their while experience. Derek was Jesse's best friend and roommate, and he was gone. A victim of the lab.

"Yes," Eleven answered first, knowing she was the only reason Mike was hesitating. Jesse looked up at her, a little shocked by her willingness to help him after everything. "Mike?"

"Uh, yeah," Mike agreed, nodding his head. "If she's okay with it, I am. There's an extra bedroom. It's tiny, like it was supposed to be an office or storage room or something. We'll stick a small bed in there, but until then, you can take the couch."

"Mike, thank you," Jesse said, eyes red and watery. "Thank you so much." Mike reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, offering a small, polite smile.

"You lost someone important to you. Then, to come home and lose your house... Seems like you could stand to catch a break. Come in." He stepped to the side and let Jesse in. Eleven watched as Mike led Jesse inside, admittedly a little uneasy about it. Jesse was still the person who pretended to be her friend to lure her and hand her over to the lab. He was still the one who held her down while he and his friend cut her hair.

Despite what he did, Eleven knew that Jesse had a reason for most of it. He was trying to save his sister, when he first sold her out, and that was something Eleven could understand. Even though he'd apologized and made up for the things he'd done, having someone else, a stranger, in their house made her nervous. She hoped he figured things out soon, so he could leave. That way, Eleven could focus on helping Mike, not Jesse.