Richie woke up to Bob calling for a doctor. He fumbled in his chair, throwing his blanket off and reaching for his face. Everything was fuzzy. Someone had taken his glasses off.

He really didn't like it when people did that. When he took them off, he knew where he put them, or at least the general area. When other people took it upon themselves to remove them, he literally had no idea where they would be.

"Eyes," he mumbled, still not quite awake. "Blind."

"Here," Mike said from his right, pressing his glasses into his palm, and he quickly shoved them onto his face. Mike was next to him, sitting up in his chair and leaning forward. In front of him leaned over a now-awake Will, was Joyce.

Richie felt a rush of quick relief flood through him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think that Will was going to die, at least once.

"Sweetie, how are you feeling?" Joyce asked. "You okay?"

"They're on their way," Bob said, reentering the room and moving to stand by Joyce. He smiled at Will. "Hey."

Will stared up at him blankly. "Who is that?"

Richie raised his eyebrows, turning his head slightly to glance at his look-a-like, whose face was written with concern.

Joyce cocked her head, seeming just a puzzled. "What?"

Bob chuckled. "It's me, big guy. It's Bob." He reached for Will's hand, but the boy swiftly moved it away.

"Are you a...doctor?" Will asked steadily, looking the man up and down. Richie leaned forward, furrowing his eyebrows. Did Will not remember?

"No. No, it's just me," Bob shook his head, tapping his chest. "Just...just Bob."

This was clearly a problem. Will didn't remember Bob. But he couldn't have amnesia because he clearly remembered his mom. Did he remember Mike? Did he remember Richie? What had caused it?

Mike gave Richie a look that expressed clear concern. Obviously he'd been thinking along the same lines.

When Dr. Owens came in he got straight to it, checking Will's eyes and asking him questions.

"Do you know your name?"

"Will."

"Your full name?"

"William Byers."

"Do you know who I am?"

They all stood around his bed, Owens at his side, two other doctors standing agaisnt the wall. Hopper was there too, now, standing next to Joyce. Bob, Richie, and Mike all stood at the foot of the bed.

"A...doctor," Will answered.

"Have we met before?"

"I don't remember," Will said quietly. Owens hummed thoughtfully.

"You don't remember me? Okay," he said. He looked around, before pointing back to Mike. "How about, uh...how about this guy here?"

Mike gave a small wave and a tentative smile as Will turned to look at him.

"Know who that is?"

Will didn't say anything, he just stared. Maybe he didn't remember Mike either. Maybe he forgot everything. "It's all right. Take your time."

"That's my friend," Will said slowly. "Mike." He eyes slid to Richie, and he furrowed his eyebrows a bit. "But...I don't remember his twin."

"Not his twin," Richie said quietly. "I'm Richie. Also...your friend."

Maybe Will had just gotten short-term memory loss? Maybe when he fell he hit his head too hard. Was it even possible to develop short-term memory loss? Eddie would know, Richie found himself thinking. He couldn't help but feel disappointed that Will hadn't remembered him, but pushed the thought away. It's not like the boy had done it on purpose.

Owens nodded, sighing a bit. "That's okay, that's alright. What about your redheaded friend? The girl? She isn't in the room, you remember her?"

They were talking about Ross. Joyce had come back the previous night telling them that she was okay. They were just running some tests to see what was wrong with her.

It made Richie nervous, and he could ell it made Mike and Joyce nervous as well. It clearly wasn't nothing. The nosebleeds were a bit concerning to start, but when they progressed to the point that someone passed out? It practically screamed 'Dead man walking' to Richie, as much as he hated to think about it. What if one day, it got so bad that she died of blood loss? Or her eyes popped out from the pressure. That's ridiculous, Richie, he could imagine Richie telling him.

Richie did is best to agree.

It took Will a few minutes to answer. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine her in his head. "Ross," he said finally, opening his eyes. "Roslyn King."

"What about me, kid?" Hopper asked. "You remember me?"

Will shook his head.

"They tell me you helped save me last night. You remember that?"

Will shook his head once more.

"Do you remember anything about last night?" Owens asked. "About what happened?"

"I remember...they hurt me," Will answered.

"You mean the doctors?" Owens asked.

Will shook his head. "No. The soldiers."

Richie frowned. What soldiers? He shared a glance with Mike, before turning his attention back to Owens.

"The soldiers hurt you?"

"They shouldn't have done that," Will said. "It upset him."

The doctor reached into a blue folder and pulled out a photo. "You say, 'Upset him'. Is that him?" Will took the picture in his hands, assessing it. He looked at Owens and nodded.

Richie didn't get a good look at the picture, but judging from what he knew, he guessed it was a photo of one of Will's drawings of the Shadow Monster.

"Okay, I wanna try something," Owens said to Joyce, sliding the picture back into his file. "It's gonna seem a little odd at first, but I think it's really gonna help us understand what's going on here."

He turned back to look at Will. "Is that okay?"

"Okay," Will said quietly, nodding.

They wheeled in some sort of open tank, and Richie caught sight of a throbbing, burnt looking tentacle within it. Some part of him felt compelled to spit a joke. Maybe ask if that's what STD's did to your junk. But the room felt too tense for any sort of jokes, so he bit his tongue. Mike made a quiet noise of disgust. The two moved over next to Hopper, and Mike jumped up onto the counter while Richie leaned agaisnt it.

"Now, Will, I want you to let us know if you feel anything," Owens instructed. "Okay?" He nodded to one of the doctors, who held a small blow torch. They lit it.

What the fuck, Richie thought.

The man held it directly above the tank, and the thing inside it made a soft screech. Owens turned to Will. "Do you feel anything?"

Will breathed in deeply. "Lit-little sting."

"It stings? Where?"

"My chest," Will grunted, bringing a hand up. Richie heard the heart monitor speed up.

"Okay, son," Owens said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Sweetie," Joyce said, leaning in. The man lowered the torch.

"How about now?" Owens asked.

"It...burns," Will said, squirming uncomfortably. Richie stood up straight, frowning as the man lowered in closer to the tank again.

"Ah!" Will exclaim, sitting up. "It burns."

"Where?"

"Everywhere!"

Richie winced as the thing in the tank screeched again, moving so much that the tank began to move, too.

"That's enough," Joyce said. "That's enough!"

Will let out a pained cry, and the glass on the tank began to crack. They were hurting him, Richie quickly realized

"Stop!" Hopper jumped in. "You heard her! That's enough! That's it! We're done."

The man moved the blow torch away, and the tentacle stopped squealing.

"Okay," Owens sighed, sitting back.

The monitor began to decline, going back to a normal speed.

"Sweetie...sweetie," Joyce murmured at Will's side. "It's okay."


Owens took Joyce and Hopper into the hall to discuss.

"Our best guess right now is it's some kind of virus," Owens explained," which is causing this neurological disorder. Now, when-when a typical virus attaches itself to its host it duplicates, right?" He moved his hands as if doing so would help them understand.

"It spreads, essentially hijacking the host. A virus is alive. It has an intelligence. That's not-that's not unusual."

Owens paused, pointing down the hall towards Will's room. "What is so unusual here, this virus-the infected hosts seem to be communicating. It has some sort of a hive of intelligence, and it's connecting to all the hosts.

"The good news is a virus can be cured," Owens continued. "We...we're gonna continue to run tests. We're gonna see what we find."

"What happens when he can't remember anything?" Joyce asked, on the verge of tears. "Wh-when there's nothing else there? What happens when my boy is gone?" She began to cry, and Jim placed an arm around her shoulder.

"We won't let it get that far," Owens reassured her.

"Why don't you head on back," Jim suggested to Joyce. "I'm gonna ask him a few more questions."

She nodded, and went back down the hall to her son's room.

Hopper sighed, leaning agaisnt the wall.

"What about...what about Ross?" he asked. "The girl? What's her deal, she okay?"

Owens straightened up, pursing his lips. "We've, uh, we've ran some tests," he said. "She seems to have this...virus. The same Will has, but it's not exactly..."

He trailed off, waving his hand as if he would pull the words out of thin air. "Manifested," he said finally. Jim blinked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"The same virus? You don't mean-"

"That's exactly what I mean," Owens said, nodding. "But it hasn't exactly manifested yet, like I said, and it looks like the nosebleeds, headaches, and trauma she's been experiencing is her body trying to purge itself of the virus. But...it is...it could be dangerous.

"However, since it hasn't settled," the doctor continued," since it isn't rooted yet, but it could root still, we could keep her here, try and purge her of the virus sooner, and maybe run some tests to see why or how the virus manifests and-"

"No," Hopper said sharply, startling Owens. "No way. She isn't going to become another one of those labrats."

He thought of Eleven. Everything she had gone through. Her lack of human contact had effected her deeply. She was emotional and didn't know how to handle things. She was still learning what it was like to be in the real world, and she hadn't even actually been out yet. Hopper refused to put anyone else through that. If he could stop it, he would.

"Of course not, she wouldn't be," Owens said. "But if we could keep her here, and try new things we could find a way to get rid of it, and we could-"

"No!" Jim yelled, suddenly. "Her body's getting rid of it itself, you just said that. She doesn't need you guys poking her with needles, or expirimenting. How would that not be like the others. How would that not be like her."

He'd only spoken with Ross King a handful of times. She was confident and stubborn, as far as he could tell. He could only imagine how being locked inside of Hawkins Lab would be like for her. All he saw was El, curly hair and big brown eyes, staring at him and asking why things were the way they were. He shook his head.

But in actuality, Hopper could think of a lot of ways this was different. She didn't have powers like Eleven, she was just sick. Sick like Will, and he wondered if they would try to keep Will there like they were with Ross. He wouldn't let them.

Jim leaned forward, glaring at Owens menacingly. "I want her in that room with us within the next half hour, or else I will tear this place apart looking for her."

Owens stared back with a stoney face, before giving a reluctant nod.

"Yes. Of course," he agreed, taking a step back. Hopper nodded, and then turned and left before Owens could change his mind.


Ross sighed as the door opened once more. It was just going to be another nurse, with another test, and another deny to see her friends. It frustrated her. None of them had told her anything about Will.

"What we're concerned with here is you, and your health," they told her. She'd shouted, telling them that she didn't give a shit, and they could shove their concern back up their asses. She'd demand to see her friends. The nurse would leave, and a new one would come in later.

This time, however, it wasn't a nurse. It was an old man, short with white hair.

"Hello, Roslyn," he said, setting a file down on one of the counters. "I'm Dr. Owens."

"I'm not doing another test," she said, getting straight to the point. "I want to see my friends. I want to see Will."

She was very worried about him. The last thing she remembered was the boy convulsing on the ground. When she'd woken up, she hadn't even been sure if he was still alive.

"I understand that," Dr. Owens said, nodding. "And you will here soon." She arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Promise?"

Much to her surprise, Owens held up his hand, pinky out. "I pinky promise." She knew it was childish, but as a person who did childish things on a daily basis, she didn't care. She twisted her pinky with his own, and he gave it a slight shake.

"Wonderful," he said, nodding. "First, however, we need to discuss some things. Like these nose bleeds you've been having."

Ross groaned. "I've been talking about them for the past hour. I already told the nurses everything I know."

Owens nodded. "Yes, now it's time for us to tell you everything we know."

"You found out what's wrong with me?" Ross asked, leaning forward. "What is it? Will the nose bleeds stop?"

"I'm afraid not," Owens said, grabbing his file. "In fact, they may become more frequent in the upcoming weeks, until your body heals itself."

Ross furrowed her eyebrows. "Heals itself?"

"You were involved in the incident last year," Owens continued. "You've met...Eleven."

Ross fiddled with the blanket draped over her legs. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"And you had crossed The Gate into the alternate dimension, and was inside for roughly...14 hours?"

"Yes," she said. "Is...did something happen?"

"It seems you've developed a...virus," Owens told her handing her the file. "I don't expect you to read it now, and I won't be surprised if you never do. It just describes the neurological changes you went through during your time on the other side. Had you been in for much longer...Will wouldn't be the only one in his position."

Ross cast her eyes down to the file. Her name was written across it in bold sharpie, although it was spelled wrong.

"So...I have...a virus?" she asked, peering up at Owens. He nodded. "What is it?"

"We aren't quite sure," he said. "You're friend Will, he has the same one. Whatever this...creature is on the otherside has imprinted on him, and infected him with this virus. However, since you were in the otherside for a shorter amount of time, the monster had less time to manifest. Your nosebleeds are just your body trying to purge itself of the virus."

"But if I have the same thing Will has, why isn't he getting nosebleeds," Ross asked. "Why is he having episodes?"

"The virus hasn't yet managed to root itself inside you like it had with Will," Owens explained. "Your body is fighting it."

"Will he be okay?" Ross asked. "What's happening to him?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Owens reassured her. "He'll be fine. Trust me."

For some reason, she did trust him. "Will I be okay?"

"Yes," Owens nodded. "If your body continues to fight the virus, the virus will die off. You'll continue to have nosebleeds. For how long, we aren't sure. It could stop soon, or you could have them for the rest of your life. But we do know that it's nothing too dangerous, and you'll be fine."

She sighed, rubbing her face. "But that's it, right? Nothing else is happening to me?"

"Nothing else is happening," Owens assured her, smiling. "Now, why don't we get you to your friends?"


The door to the room swung open, and Joyce stood, expecting Dr. Owens. Instead, it was a nurse, with a pale and cold looking Ross at her heels. Immediately Mike and Richie leapt to their feet, rushing to her side.

"Ross!" Mike exclaimed, relief flooding through his chest. She smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back. She looked healthy, like usual, as if she hadn't just passed out, bleeding from her nose and ears the previous day. If anything, she just looked tired, and cold. He could see the goosebumps on her legs. She turned to the nurse, looking up to meet the woman's eyes.

"Any chance you could get me my clothes back?" Ross asked. Mike finally noticed she was wearing a hospital gown, with black shorts and a black tanktop underneath. Her feet were bare and she had her toes curled in.

"I'll see what I can do," the nurse told her. Ross nodded, and the older woman left. As soon as the door clicked shut, Ross spun around, hugging herself.

"Holy fucking shit it's cold!" she exclaimed, aiming herself to the nearest person and bumping herself into their chest. Mike recognized this as her invitation to hug her, and so he wrapped his arms around her shivering form.

"You look like shit," Richie, ever the gentleman, said while grabbing a blanket from one of the chairs. Ross left Mike for the blanket, quickly wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Thanks, Richard," she said shortly, giving him a look for the comment. He only smiled, and she finally noticed Will. He was already staring at her, eyes blank. "Will! Are you okay?"

She rushed to his side, looking him up and down. He was extremely pale, with bags under his eyes, which seemed darker than normal. Not to mention the fact that he somehow seemed smaller, more skinny. He stared blankly, with no emotion. Ross couldn't tell if it was because he was still in a daze, or if something more sinister was taking affect. She prayed it to me the former. "What happened?" She looked to Joyce. "Did they find out what was wrong?"

Joyce sighed, shaking her head slightly. "They're supposed to be getting back to us," she explained. "But we're glad you're okay. Come here." She held open her arms, giving Ross a genuine smile that seemed to make her physically warm up.

Ross gave Will a quick glance before rounding his bed into Joyce's arm. The woman rubbed her back before giving her a tight hug. She released her and asked, "Did they find out what happened with you?"

Ross nodded, finally revealing the file she had tucked under her arm. "Yeah, they did." She gave Bob a quick glance. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now."

Joyce nodded in understanding, giving her a smile. Ross set the file down on a counter, and pattered back over to the otherside of the room to sit in one of the chairs, wrapping the blanket around herself even tighter. She nodded towards Richie. "You. Got another blanket?"

"Here, she can have this one," Bob said, standing up to hand Richie the blanket he had. Ross thanked him, and asked Richie to tuck the blanket around her legs.

"I'm freezing," she explained at the odd look he gave her. "Just do it. Please."

They spent the next twenty minutes explaining to Ross everything that had happened, from Will's amnesia to the test they'd performed with the tentacle(which Ross found cruel and creepy on various levels). Just as Ross was about to ask her own question, the door swung open once more.

Joyce stood up, again, but was disappointed as the nurse from before came in again. "I've got clothes," she told Ross. The girl practically jumped onto her feet, only to be disappointed at the sight of neatly folded scubs.

"Where are my clothes?" she asked, giving the uniform a calculating stare.

"Right here," the nurse said, furrowing her eyebrows. Ross shook her head and crossed her arms.

"No. My clothes. The clothes I was wearing," Ross said. The nurse's mouth formed an 'O', in understanding, before she nodded.

"We had them burned."

"Burned?" Ross blanched. "Why?"

"It's protocal," the nurse explained. "You'll have to make due with these, or wear the gown." Ross frowned, and picked the shirt off the top pile. It unfolded, and her expression dropped.

"These aren't even my size."

The nurse gave an apologetic smile.

Ross handed the shirt back to the lady, but picked up the socks from the pile. "I'll take these." The lady nodded, and left the room. Ross turned to Richie and Mike, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

She sat back down and slipped on the socks, and the boys helped tuck her in the blankets again. She was still cold, and she soon found her eyelids growing heavy. Shifting to find a more comfortable position, she moved around until she was sideways in her chair, head resting on Richie's shoulder behind her, and her feet spilling over into Mike's lap. She was forever thankful when he draped part of his blanket over her ankles.

She'd only just woken up a few hours ago, but recent events seemed to be taking a big toll on her as she fell back to sleep, thinking about the steady beep of Will's heart monitor.


Disclaimer: I do not own the ideas, plot, or characters of Stranger Things or IT

LIsa: :)? Assuming that's good, thanks! XD

JustCrazy: Ahhhh, I'm screaming you guessed it! Honestly, it probably wasn't all that hard. After this chapter, most of all your questions about Ross's nosebleeds should be answered. That's not to end any theories you have about it, in fact I'd still like to hear what you think! We definitely aren't done with Ross's nosebleeds. If you have any other questions i'd be happy to answer them! (Most of them, lol)

A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed! This is a chapter I'm sure some people have been anticipating; the explanation of Ross's nosebleeds. Hopefully this answers most of your questions, but keep in mind that we aren't done with her problem quite yet, and we only know what Dr. Owens has told us/knows. Sooooooo, lemme know what you think, even if it's just a smiley face (wink wink). Again, sorry for any errors and all that jazz(i feel like this chapter is weirdly short, so sorry), and i hope you enjoyed!

-blockthewriter