Her first instinct was to go upstairs.

Kat was checking the floorboards for secret panels and Kali was down in the basement, but Mike stayed with El as she headed up to the room she'd resided in for six years.

It was tiny—much smaller than her room at home. This one could hold a small cot and a dresser with a lamp on top of it, but that was it. Her stuffed lion that she'd left behind when she'd escaped was on top of the sheets and she could hear Mike inhale sharply behind her as he got a look at it.

"This is… this is inhumane." She could feel the heat from his rising anger as they went inside and she turned on the lamp.

For six years, her only light source had been that lamp. Her only comfort had been a stuffed animal. And this room had mostly been her world. Papa had only let her out to use the bathroom or to eat. If she was good, he let her wander the house while he was out and about. If she disobeyed him or tried to get out, he'd lock her in an even-smaller closet—a tactic she was sure he'd used on Kat and Kali and the reason all three sisters had severe claustrophobia. Wordlessly, she opened her dresser drawer and found her old clothes still folded. Underneath there was a slightly-yellowed paper that made her pause before she pulled it out.

It had obviously been done by a young child—by her, based on the number eleven written in the corner. It was a drawing of five people: herself, Kali, Kat, Terry, and Papa. In the back of her thirteen-year-old mind, she could remember this picture. She'd drawn it as a present for Papa to try and make him happy, to make him stop hitting her mother and sisters. It hadn't worked and—she remembered with a heart-stopping thought—Terry had lost her ability to function less than two weeks later.

Those two words tried to creep into her mind again.

My fault.

Then Mike took her hand and pulled her into a hug and she knew that it wasn't. It wasn't her fault that her father was such a terrible person. It wasn't her fault that he'd done so many horrible, ugly, inhuman things. None of it was her fault. None of it was anybody's fault but his. He was the one who'd chosen to beat and abuse two wives and three daughters. He was the one who'd broken into her home and attacked her brother and kidnapped her mother.

And now there was hell to pay.

Together, she and Mike began to descend the staircase before she heard rhythmic tapping. Her hearing was good after years of training herself to listen for Papa's footsteps and she could hear it.

Tap tap tap tap.

Tap.

Tap tap, tap tap.

Tap tap, tap, tap.

Morse code.

Afternoons with Hopper and Joyce suddenly came to mind, when they'd taught her to use Morse code. It was Hopper's favorite form of communication.

H. E. L. P.

Help.

She turned and ran back up the stairs two at a time and Mike was right behind her. There, the closet. Her claustrophobic hell. The tapping came from there.

She fumbled with the knob for a moment before Mike ran back to her room and came back with the lamp. He brought down the metal base on the knob and broke it, allowing them to open the door.

And there was Joyce, bound and gagged but alive. El let out a cry and immediately pulled the gag out of her mother's mouth before going to work on the ropes. Mike still held the lamp (his weapon of choice now, El guessed) and kept watch. Kali and Kat ran up the stairs and both looked relieved to see Joyce was okay. All four helped Joyce to her feet and Kali and El stood on either side of the mother of three.

"Let's get out of here," whispered El to her mother.

"God, Jane… you found me."

"And I'm keeping my promise."

Joyce smiled knowingly and they began their trek down the stairs. Kat had her gun in her hand and Mike had the lamp—defenders of the innocent, the two of them.

Then the front door slammed shut and suddenly they were face to face with Papa. He looked at his three daughters with a smile that had never been good when they lived with him and Kat froze.

"My girls have come home."

Hopper sped through the woods, the Blazer bumping along uneven ground as he went. He could see the chalk marks left on the trees as a trail to follow and guessed that Kat had done it to ensure they could find their way back. Right now, though, they were a trail to his wife and daughter and he was grateful that Steve had made the radio call to tell him as much. He was less pleased that the Wheeler kid hadn't stopped his daughter from making the dumb decision to go after a psychopathic pedophile, and that her sisters had failed to stop her, but he was resigned to arresting the guy. Besides, his stepsons were currently safe and under police protection in the hospital, so he could afford to personally go after his wife's kidnapper and his daughter's abuser.

The little house was in front of him and a black car was outside. He could hear sounds of a struggle, of Mike screaming 'let her go, you bastard!' and that made him park the car and run inside. Joyce was trying to stay upright while protecting an injured Kali, Mike was being held up by some thug, and Kat was shaking and trying to pull the trigger on her father without hitting Jane, who was being caressed by the man.

"Let her go!" barked Hopper, pointing his own gun at Brenner.

"Ah, Chief Hopper," Brenner chuckled. "How nice of you to join us."

"Let my daughter and wife go. Let them all go."

"I can't do that. You see, my Eleven is the most precious thing in the world to me, and you took her away."

"Bullshit!" Mike roared before Hopper could say anything. "You don't know how amazing she is because you only ever saw her as a toy!"

Brenner narrowed his eyes at Mike and nodded to the thug holding him. The larger man moved to put Mike into a chokehold and suddenly the boy can't breathe. Kat aimed her gun at the thug and fired, hitting him in the shoulder. The man screamed before dropping Mike, the lanky boy struggling to regain his ability to function. Now Kat's gun is again aimed at Brenner and so is Hopper's.

"You bitch!" the thug snarled, lunging for Kat and tackling her. The gun tumbled from her hands and Mike went for it, still coughing and sputtering as he took up Kat's place aiming the weapon at Brenner.

Jane, seemingly having a new sort of resolve, brought down the heel of her boot on Brenner's toe, making her co-creator release her in a moment of pain. She ran for Joyce and Kali immediately and then Brenner pulled out his own gun. It was aimed at Mike and there was so much confusion as Kat broke her attacker's nose with a pop and Joyce pulled Jane into an embrace.

Then there was a gunshot.

Then silence.