A single, tiny facet of existence walked through tepid water, surrounded by a great, black void, feeling itself being drawn inexorably towards...something.

Something that this consciousness, this 'soul', could not quite understand, but nevertheless sensed was a part of it: as if they were both, somehow, two halves of a whole that had been split.

Then it came into view: the shimmery form of a young boy wearing a hospital gown and a shaved head: angry, powerful...and in pain.

'I didn't mean to kill you! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Why can't i just die, Papa? Why can't i just-'

The feelings of self-loathing and guilt were almost overwhelming, but as strong as they were, the aimless consciousness sensed that they were nothing more than a symptom of an underlying turmoil: a kind of insanity born out of deliberately induced trauma, both physical and mental.

Papa...

Something about that name struck a cord within it. He had heard it before, but he couldn't say where.

He had to go back! Had to return to...something. Somewhere.

He put his head in his hands in frustration, unhelpfully abstract recollections of 'things' suddenly flying through his thoughts, almost-

Wait.

'His' hands.

'His' head.

A feeling of relief washed over him. The simple concept of having something approaching an identity gave him a sense of stability and self-confidence that he had previously lacked.

Okay, so 'he' was absolutely a he. Good.

But there had to be more to it than that. He couldn't just be 'he' or 'him'. He had to have his name back...

Back?

An elated smile crept over his face: he had a name!

But...what was it?

More frustration. He knew he was a person, a living, breathing human being, but the hazy scraps of memory just wouldn't come together!

He felt as if his very identity had been scattered like a jigsaw puzzle, and was only now just starting to be put back together.

Maybe, just maybe this other boy knew something about him.

'Other' boy.

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place, and another piece of his identity was restored.

And then he remembered: they were around the same age- no, they 'were' the same age!

Then things began to pick up speed.

They had the same eyes

The same height

The same build

The same, overall mannerism...

...The same name.

As the youth's identity returned, the maddening whirlwind that had destroyed him before threatened to return as well, but now...

Now things were different.

'He' was different.

His weak, coddled mind hadn't been able to handle the truth before, but now, after having had his very identity torn apart and reassembled, he was stronger.

Now, he was ready to face the truth like a man, and not like the scared boy he had been.

With his newfound confidence, he faced the tornado of confusion and despair, and reached out with his hand, gritting his teeth in concentration.

'GO...AWAY!'

Its resistance was strong, but its one-time victim had discovered its fatal weakness:

He no longer believed in its strength.

Growling in anger at what this storm of insanity had caused last time around, he poured every ounce of himself into un-making it, and slowly, very slowly, it began to lose power.

Suddenly, another, unmistakable presence added its own, devastating strength to the fight.

Nodding in gratitude to El, the two fought the storm to a standstill, until finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it winked out of existence, and his mind began to calm.

He laughed. 'His'? He had a name, and it was -

'WILL!'

He barely had time to react before his uncharacteristically ecstatic twin embraced him in a hug that may not have been real, but was undeniably sincere.

As they both cried tears of joy at being reunited, Will Byers knew that, even if he never made back to his world, he was home.