Chapter Twenty-Five – The Artist and the Astronaut
"Mom…are you gonna eat?" Jonathan fussed over the dinner table like a stylist, setting the plates and silverware in their correct positions. With a spin of his heels he was facing the skillet again, flipping the pan-seared sausage links onto their paler sides. He took a pinch of spices and sprinkled it onto the meat, stirring the peppers and onions about in the pan and inhaling the delicious aroma. Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells, Jonathan thought.
"Yeah yeah just…give me a minute," she stammered. Jonathan peeked at her from over his shoulder. She was standing by the phone again, arms crossed and heel tapping the carpet, awaiting an automated voicemail. He could hear the beep from where he stood, ringing out over the sizzling meat and juices. Joyce sighed deeply, "Hopper, this is the sixteenth time I've called. Please just…c-call me back as soon as you can…" With another frustrated sigh, she shook her head and placed the phone into the receiver. It wasn't quite a slam…it lay somewhere in-between impoliteness and courtesy…and it still managed to make Jonathan flinch.
"Mom…I'm sure everything's fine. You explained things as best you could," Jonathan consoled.
"No…no it's not that…I'm not worried about her…I know she's okay…" she breathed into the back of her palm. Her son eyed her from the stove, his brow lowering with concern. "…I'm worried about Hop," she admitted with a helpless shrug.
"…a-about Hop?" he repeated incredulously. The boy scoffed good-naturedly, "Why? He's the Chief...and even if he wasn't-"
"I know Jonathan…I know…" she trailed off, sitting down to their cozy table. He went about scooping the still steaming food from the pan and onto a serving plate, grabbing a pair of tongs and offering them to his mother. As he set the dish onto the middle of the table, she returned a tired smile, taking the utensils gratefully. "I-It's just…he knows more than any of us."
Her son eyed her a moment, "You mean…about her?" Joyce nodded.
"Yes…and…I-I'm just worried something happened to him…I-I have this feeling Jonathan," she pressed her closed fist into the space below her collar bone, shaking her head worriedly. Her son regarded her in a different way now, like how he had before he'd realized Will wasn't dead and his mother wasn't crazy. Joyce eyed him, immediately recognizing that look and loathing it. To Jonathan, everything was alright. "I…I-I just wanna know if he's okay or-"
Hasty knuckles pounded against the Byers' front door, lurching them from their conversation. Joyce rushed to her feet, striding across the den and throwing the door open. The sun was just setting behind the trees, and the man she'd been looking for all this time stood before her…his eyes baggy and grey. Jonathan nearly jumped from his seat, "…Mom?"
"Joyce…I need to, talk to you…" Hop beckoned her outside, into the freezing cold.
"Where have you been?! I've been calling all morning!" she exclaimed, emoting with her arms held before her. "I-I've been worried sick!" Jonathan abandoned the dinner table and the fragrant piles of food, moving to stand behind her in the doorway.
"Joyce…" he sighed, looking like he was about to insist something but appearing to not have the energy for it. A drafty wind carried the scent of peppers and sausages towards him and his stomach roared quite audibly. "...I wasn't home." This wasn't news to her; she'd figured as much. She needed to question him further, afraid of what he would eventually answer…but absolutely needing to know.
"…I-I called the station! Flo said you weren't in…that you hadn't come in at all," she stressed. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips seemingly molded into a deep-set frown. Poignant exhaustion simply emanated from his very presence. Jonathan noticed this, taking a mental note as to how this profoundly affected his mother, who empathized with him by sharing his grief and doubt…though she hadn't even learnt its source! Joyce could take a few guesses as to what it was though…
"…you can come in if you want. We just made dinner," Jonathan spoke up. Both adults lifted their gazes towards him, having been seemingly lost in each other's eyes. They do that way too much, Jonathan told himself.
"…y-yeah. Come inside," Joyce beckoned him. Hopper stepped into their house reaching up to grasp at something on his head.
Suddenly, his eyes bolted open and he swore loudly, "DAMMIT!"
"W-WHAT?!" Jonathan nearly shouted, his mother eyeing Hopper suspiciously. The man spun about to face the open door, clutching the wooden frame angrily.
"…they took my hat…" he seethed with fury, grimacing into the twilight. He realized he must've left it in the car…and just thinking about that man with his grey suit and his synthetic smile irked him beyond belief. Hop felt a part of him was being held hostage, never to be recovered unless he followed through with their stomach-turning deal. Of course, there would be many more horrible repercussions if he refused to cooperate. In hindsight...the hat was nothing to be worried about. He looked back at them, wondering if they could handle this new information. They stared back expectantly. Hopper was an adult and an even more experienced police officer, easily able to make this decision on his own and throw Eleven's new life away at the drop of a word. This epiphany wouldn't strike Hopper now – not now and not for many days – but there were in fact some things he could learn from the younger ones; the kids. Loyalty, honesty…openness. Right now, Hop felt like a cracked shell, barely enclosing some very venomous secrets and nothing else. His heart felt empty, asphyxiated of any kind of positive emotion or thought.
"…w-who took your hat?" Joyce asked in a quavering voice, sympathizing with him at every angle of her face. The hat meant a lot to him; it had belonged to his grandfather and been passed down to him through his bloodline. Never had he told anyone this besides Sarah…but Joyce read him well enough to perceive how highly he adored the unassuming accessory. She'd figured it meant a lot to him the moment she'd seen him wear it.
He eyed them, a chorus of fear and doubt screaming over his thoughts until he finally silenced them into a long-awaited hiatus. "…Dr. Brenner…those troopers from Hawkins Lab…" Jonathan's eyebrows raised in disbelief, his emotions mixing well with his biding panic. Joyce – on an entirely different spectrum – appeared furious.
"…Hop?"
"It's…" he breathed, knowing these next few moments were crucial. "…it's a long story." They all stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other as if they were different species meeting for the first time, separated along evolutionary paths, utterly alienated and foreign.
Joyce suddenly swirled about, eyeing the kitchen table. "We can talk over dinner…"
This offer was met with an unexpected sigh of polite rebuttal, the likes of which Joyce would have no partin. "No, Joyce…you don't have to-"
"-Hop…" she blurted out, holding in her exasperation. "…Hop, eat something! You look…" she gestured wildly to his sweat-stained uniform, his slackened skin and his tired eyes. Even his shoulders sank beneath the mass of a thousand enigmas.
"-like shit?" he cut in. Joyce scoffed, rubbing her temple.
"…not much better…" Jonathan added, earning a warning leer from his mother and a tired glance from the Chief. He lowered his gaze, peering up at Hop beneath the curve of his brow. The man pursed his lips.
"…alright Joyce..." he agreed, closing the door behind him on the fading sunset. As he crossed the room – knowing this would be the time to remove his missing hat with a polite hand – Joyce swooped behind him, locking and chaining the door. "I just wanna let you know…you're not gonna like what you hear." He seemed to drag himself to the table as Jonathan set a chair for him and began plating some food. Hop inhaled the delectable smells, "…what'd you guys make?"
The boy eyed him surprisingly, "O-Oh…um…peppers and sausage…"
"…smells good," Hop complimented in a monotone bass. Joyce sat beside him, no longer interested in her food when it was all Hop could stare at.
"…t-thanks," Jonathan grabbed a fork and knife from the silverware drawer. "Here you go," he set a plate before him and Hop nodded in thanks, cutting into the largest link and bringing a piece to his lips. They watched him eat for a little while longer, Jonathan trying to ignore his ravenous hunger while Joyce was overwhelmingly fascinated.
"…when's the last time, y-you ate?" she eyed him wondrously, grinning a bit.
"Mm…" he made a little noise of remembrance past a mouthful of food, reaching for a glass of water. It was Jonathan's, but the boy only pursed his lips discreetly, standing back up to pour himself another. "…yesterday morning," he echoed into the cup, gulping down the fresh, clean water. The Byers eyed each other as if to say, no wonder he's so damn famished. In record time, Hopper finished the meal, even taking the time to hunt down those pesky thin pepper strips and stab them with the fork. He swallowed, sighing and leaning back in his chair to rub his forehead. Now he just needed to hibernate. "…that was good," he complimented with an impressed nod. His eyes were on Jonathan.
"Thanks," the boy nodded.
"Has he always been able to cook like that?" Hop pointed to him with a thumb while looking at the mother, but his relaxed smile slowly vanished. Her glare was stern and glowering, as if she were challenging him to another one of their staring contests.
Hop sighed while she pressed, "Hop…tell us what happened."
Before saying anything, he pursed his lips and shook his head. Then he rested his forehead into the cup of his palm. Jonathan was very deterred to see him this way. This was one of the men he'd chosen to idolize now…broken and weary before him. Something was horribly wrong…his gut told him so. Neither mother nor son touched their plates, the food now sitting lukewarm and forgotten. They wouldn't touch them for the rest of the night. "Joyce…" Hop suddenly brought his face from his hand, his eyes misty. Those blue, watery orbs met her demanding brown irises, clasping her hands in his own.
"-Hop." Joyce sounded anxious, like all he had to do was tear a bandage off and it'd all be better…but he knew it wasn't that simple. "Just tell me…" Seeing him like this dismayed Joyce, which in turn made Jonathan distraught. He too was eagerly awaiting some kind of report…though with much bated apprehension.
"…we brought Lonnie in last night. When I got back to the station around…" he sighed, rubbing his lips with the corner of his hand. "…God it must've been…late night, early morning…" He distinctly remembered watching the sunrise with that viperous man. Joyce and his son watched intently. "He wasn't there…"
Joyce eyed him suspiciously, "…h-how…?"
"They…" Hop bit his lip, shaking his head and looking away for a moment. Because he knew this would crush her. The most Hop had gathered from stories of their courtship was that Lonnie and Joyce had a major falling out…but that inevitably meant they'd been invested in each other at some time. They might've even been in love…
"Hop…" Joyce pleaded, giving his hands a shake.
He turned back to eye her, "…they took jurisdiction over the case…lied and said he was part of some big conspiracy..." Joyce's eyelids fluttered in confusion. "...they took him Joyce. They killed him."
The Wheelers' house was bustling with energy. Karen and Ted lay beneath their covers, two floors separating them and the rambunctious children...and nevertheless, they could still hear them. "Ted…" Karen sighed into a heated exhale. He didn't respond, so she hissed, "…Ted!"
"…hm?" he hummed, easily drifting off to sleep above the muffled noise. More laughter seeped through the floorboards with lighthearted intent. It was only an incessant racket for those who were trying to sleep.
"They are being too loud Ted," Karen insisted.
"Mmm…let them have fun…" Ted groaned, turning onto his side so he could face her. "It's not a school night…" She watched his bare eyes slowly close and she shoved him with her ankle. He growled disagreeably.
"But Ted…what about the girl?!" Karen hissed. His eyes snapped open. "Joyce called and said she would be back to pick her up before eight. It's nine," she stressed each word.
"Oh!" Ted sat up, rubbing his eyes and letting his furry legs dangle over the side of the bed. He yawned with a stretch of his arms, "For a second I forgot one of them wasn't a boy…"
Karen rolled her eyes, "Oh Ted…" She rubbed her forehead, lazing back into the pillows. He lazily brought his spectacles to his eyes, blinking as his perspectives changed. His wife droned, "…where is she gonna sleep?"
"Well…in the basement I assume," Ted suggested quite simply. "The boys will sleep in Mike's room, like last time."
"Oh…" she blinked at this suggestion. "…that'll work."
"Mm-hm," Ted rose to his feet, stretching his toes a bit and exiting the room. Karen rolled over onto her side, trying to find some semblance of sleep amidst the never-ending laughter.
"Okay…ready?" Mike prepped, eyeing his ticking watch. They all nodded, smiling deviously at one another. "One…two…three!" Everyone flipped their papers around, presenting their masterpieces to Dustin. He eyed them all, discerning which one sat best with him.
"Hm…" he puzzled like an investigator, rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes. Mike drew a roundish face balancing a bale of hay on top of it…at least it looked that way. Eleven drew another stick person with eyes of blue and crazed spikes of hair sticking out from their skull. Will's was obviously the best: it looked the most like Dustin's D&D persona than it did his actual appearance. He'd even taken the time to color in his shoes and draw a half-eaten apple in his hand. Then Dustin saw Lucas' and shot him a glare, "HEY!"
"W-What?!" Lucas giggled as Mike concealed his snicker. El blinked at the picture as Will eyed Lucas' caricature giddily, his cheeks enormously large and his iconic hat way too big. He had a manic grin on his face, and Lucas had drawn in black spaces where his teeth were missing. "It's a compliment! That's supposed to be your big brain under there," Lucas pointed to the over-sized hat with a crayon. As they all peered around at each other's work, they began laughing and pointing to the tiny details the artists had added. El's were always the simplest, mostly composed of straight lines and missing noses. When they'd drawn El, Lucas hadn't even given her hair. Mike had etched in long blonde locks while Dustin had tinted her eyes red with tiny lines of blood leaking from her nose. They'd all found a way to laugh at each other though, even El didn't seem offended in the least. And they always had compliments for Will, who was winning this game by leaps and bounds.
"…I gotta go with Will the Wise on this one," Dustin pointed. Mike and Lucas groaned in unison while Will openly cheered.
"Man…why even play this game if you're gonna be the only winner?!" Lucas questioned in an incredulous tone.
"Why do you think I suggested it?" the wizard asked with a knowing grin.
Dustin snickered, "He does have a point. He's basically playing us at this point." Lucas rolled his eyes, unable to refuse the slight curl of his lips. Mike and Dustin were peering at the nearly empty pizza box, eyeing each other over their smirks.
"…you can have it," Mike offered.
"Thanks!" the boy smiled, reaching for the box and grabbing the slice. "You wanna split it?"
"Na, I'm stuffed…" Mike shook his head, holding in a burp with a closed fist. He didn't want El to think he was gross.
"You want a piece?" Dustin offered the girl. She thought about it, partially stunned to realize that for the first time in a long time – besides this morning at breakfast – she didn't feel hungry. With a smile, she shook her head, watching Mike as he rose to his feet. Dustin shrugged, "Suit yourself!"
"I'm just gonna take this outside so my mom doesn't yell at me…" Mike announced, grabbing the discarded box.
"Cool," Lucas replied, starting a game of tic-tac-toe with Will. While El wanted very much to watch them play out this fun new game, she followed Mike outside, much to the boys' surprise. They watched her walk out, glancing at each other wordlessly. Then Lucas broke into a huge grin and began snickering, covering his mouth with a hand. Dustin chuckled too, though Will seemed rather lost.
"…what?" he spoke.
"…oh…it's nothing…" Lucas chuckled, shaking his head.
"…you'll figure it out," Dustin tapped him assuredly on the shoulder.
The driveway was frigid beneath his bare feet and his loins trembled in the cold, night air. With the door to his back, he bent the box over itself multiple times, trying to fit it into the trash can. "…Mike?"
He gasped, spinning around and looking over his shoulder. "Oh! Hey El!" They exchanged a smile as her eyes drifted to the can. "…I'm just, taking out the trash…" he sighed. "It's one of my chores…"
"Chores?" El repeated, her brow slightly raising.
"Oh…they're these things we're supposed to do. Dad says it keeps the house from falling apart…I guess he's kind of right…" El tilted her head at this and Mike lowered his head bashfully. "It's like a…a tiny job."
El nodded, peering off to the side and yawning deeply. She wondered if her chores had been to crush soda cans and listen to strangers who spoke in foreign tongues. That would explain a lot. Mike finished stuffing the cardboard inside, bending down to return the lid to the can. "…hey Mike?"
"Yeah?"
For some odd reason, she felt her cheeks flush red at the way he gazed up at her, entirely engaged in her short, simple words. She drew in a breath, suddenly nervous and blinking quickly. This showed on her face, and for a moment, Mike thought something was wrong. "…can I show you something?"
"…sure! What is it?"
She pursed her lips, walking away from him and out from beneath his overhang of a garage. Even more perplexed, Mike followed his friend until they stood on the grassy knoll just behind his house. The door to the basement sat directly behind them. She was gazing up at the stars, turning to smile at him. "Look," she pointed. He did, smiling up at the trillions of balls of gas. Then he looked back at her.
"You like to stargaze?" he asked, seemingly surprised. She eyed him a moment, "Oh…it's when you look at the stars…those tiny balls of light up there." He motioned with a hand and she smiled, nodding beside him. That was when he broke into the biggest of smiles, "-cool! Me too!" Eleven copied his expression, her eyes dark in the glistening moonlight.
"…together?" she asked.
"Um..." he turned back to the basement door a moment, pursing his lips. "…okay! I guess we can watch them for a little while." El smiled at this, happily sitting on the grass beside Mike. He laid flat on his back, looking straight out into the atmosphere. What a brilliant idea,Eleven thought, copying him once again. They were side-by-side, gazing up at the stars like novice astronomers. She could hear him yawn, his voice pitching near the end in a hilarious manner, and seconds later, she was yawning too. That was weird…she thought. Her hands splayed into the earth beside her, pressing down onto the grass. "So, my parents are probably gonna want you to sleep in the basement by yourself tonight…"
She turned to look at him, her ear bristled by the grass, "Why?"
"Well…the guys are gonna sleep in my room…but, you have to sleep somewhere else." Her absent gaze illustrated that he hadn't answered her question. "It's because…you're a girl. Guys and girls aren't supposed to have sleep-overs together…at least, not in the same room."
"…no?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Mike sighed hopelessly, a bitter wind passing over them. "Well, yeah…that's just the rules…it'd be weird." She pursed her lips. It wasn't like she wasn't used to it…she had simply missed them all so much. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you have enough blankets. Sometimes it gets really cold in there…" She nodded understandably, knowing this fact to be true.
"…Mike?" her voice was soft and gentle, as always, but even more so than usual.
"Yeah?" he turned to face her, and now it was his turn to blush. She was giving him that look from last year, when she'd approached him in the bathroom. He froze, unable to move or speak or breathe. The sounds of the crickets and the night birds echoed over them as they maintained eye contact for what seemed an endless moment. Then he felt something cold touch his hand, as if whatever it was had to test the handles of a hot pan. He peeked down – just in case it wasn't her and some kind of creature – and noticed her left hand inching towards his right one. Mike simpered and opened his fingers as she wrapped hers around his palm, relishing in the warmth. Her hands are freezing! "…a-are you cold?" he croaked past a lump in his throat.
"No," she replied confidently, still holding that beaming stare with him. A whole new current of blood rushed into his cheeks and he swallowed his anxiety. He didn't dare look at the stars or break eye contact…her eyes were so intense and inquisitive. Out of all of them, Lucas and her were definitely the most animated individuals, their eyes truly acting as windows into their souls. Mike's thoughts skid to a halt. Lucas…why was he thinking of Lucas? Eleven gripped his hand tighter as a gust of wind tousled his hair. She wasn't smiling…and she wasn't frowning either, just holding that unbreakable gaze. "She could've accidentally ripped your head off or something!" Mike blinked. Stop! Why was he thinking of Lucas?!
"Hey guys!" Dustin's voice shocked them out of a nameless moment, both of them sitting up and returning their hands to their respective bodies. The curly-haired boy squinted at them playfully, his grin large and wide. "Lucas wants to play Battleship…" he trailed off.
"Oh! O-Okay!" Mike hopped to his feet as Dustin kept that grin plastered on his face. El followed them inside, peering over her shoulder before closing the door, gazing up at the stars almost gratefully.
"I-I just can't believe they…t-they would do that!" Joyce gasped, wiping her tears with the edge of her hand. Jonathan had resigned himself to the edge of the couch with his mother on his left and on Hopper's right. Joyce had broken down the instant Hop had uttered the words…and to Jonathan's amazement, he hadn't. The teen only felt bad that he couldn't feel bad for him, and the only reason he was close to crying was because his mother sobbing. "I mean…Lonnie he-" she broke off into an exacerbated sigh. "H-He didn't do anything wrong! He wasn't in their way!"
"They're trying to scare us…" he sighed, gripping her one hand tighter. "…they just want her Joyce. They just kept saying it over and over…she's all they want."
"But Hop…a-are you sure?" Jonathan turned to eye his mother, entirely distressed, his face wet with tears as it contorted in terrible ways. Joyce stared at the Chief as he eyed her back. "There wasn't…any way for him to…to-"
"No…no Joyce he was gone…" Hop closed his eyes at the startlingly graphic memory. The way his skull just…disintegrated beneath the force of the bullet…how his life had been strewn across the back of his door like a splatter painting.
"B-But…what about CPR? D-Did you try that?" Joyce pressed. Hop shook his head, shutting his eyelids tight. "Oh come on! It worked for Will!"
Hop locked their gazes, his eyes exhausted and sad…but his face was immovably stern, "…he was gone." Joyce shook her head, biting back a million sobs and hugging her son close. "I'm sorry Joyce…" he breathed, his eyes twinkling in the dim lighting. He knew time was short…that – unfortunately – he had to continue dishing out the bad news. Eleven was not his sole responsibility…he'd labeled Joyce as her mother days ago. He, under no circumstances, would make this decision by himself or without her permission. "While I was talking with Brenner…one of my officers got shot. Now, I don't know if it's an isolated incident or if it's all somehow related…all I know is that he lost a lot of blood…and he's O negative." Joyce eyed Hop incredulously. "…are either of you O negative?" To his dismay, they both shook their heads. He sighed through his nose, reaching in his pocket and fishing out her papers.
"W-What is that?" Joyce asked, squinting her eyes at the sheets.
"…before I left, I stole these from Brenner's jacket," he showed her the documentation. It was all here, restating the one true fact they'd accepted long before…that Eleven was Jane Ives. That she was a person.
"H-Hop…we could…" Joyce pointed promisingly at the birth certificate, her eyes widening at him. "…w-we could do something with this…"
"I know…" Hop sighed, trying to ignore the fact that they only had a week to devise some kind of strategy. "…Joyce…her blood type is O negative…" he pointed to the words universal donor. She eyed him incredulously, seemingly forgetting the correlation while Jonathan's expression opened up in shock.
"A-Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked. Joyce's eyes widened as the association abruptly established itself. "How are we supposed to get her in the hospital?"
There was a thick silence that permeated the room, lasting only a moment as Hop pursed his lips. "…we lie," Hop stated in a monotone. They eyed him worriedly. "Make up a name for her, say she's Cal's niece or something…I don't think they'll care too much…they know he's dying."
Joyce broke in, "Hop this is crazy! W-What if someone from state is there?!"
"Yeah! And…w-what if she's sick with something?" Jonathan cut in. Now that caught Hop's attention. "How are they gonna make sure her blood's even clean?"
"Look, Brenner said they took care of her. They gave her food, medicine when she needed it-"
"How do you know he wasn't lying?!" Joyce rebuked. Hop eyed her, helplessness momentarily fogging his view.
"…I don't know…" he shook his head. "But…I'm pretty sure they test the blood before they let anyone receive it..." he added.
"She's not even old enough," Joyce remembered, resting an elbow on her knee and mushing the ball of her hand into her forehead.
"They might let it go," Hop shrugged in a hopeless gesture. "If we play on the family connection, and I mean really draw it out…they might let her-"
"Hop…" Joyce warned. "This is a little girl we're talking about! Eleven! Are you insane?!"
"Joyce…" Hop broke into a helpless breath. "…you remember when we found the fake body in the quarry?" he suddenly prompted out of nowhere. She scoffed at him while Jonathan deepened his gaze. "Cal was the first deputy on scene...he let the rest of us know. And you remember when Eleven went missing the same night we found Will?" Joyce nodded, pursing her lips in a painful gesture. "…he was there too. He was the only one who went inside…and he told me there were bodies everywhere..."
Joyce eyed him suspiciously, more than confused as to how this made anything better. "…w-what?"
"…I don't know if she killed them all or if it was that, thing…I don't know…" A tremor coursed through Jonathan's bones and he gripped her hand tighter, remembering the Demogorgon as easily as lyrics to his favorite song. "…but she is a tough girl. She lived through that winter…she can do this. But I'm not saying she has to. I'm leaving it up to her." Joyce scoffed, shaking her head and closing her eyes. "I don't care if she says no…I'll find someone else who can donate…but I'm going to save him. He can't die like this. Not now…he's the youngest one on the force." Pained expressions were exchanged as Hop narrowed their options. "…I have to go…" Hop rose to his feet, his legs rebelling against the pressure with an achy soreness. For a moment, he stopped to stand in the center of the room, dreamlike. When he turned, he saw Joyce standing behind him, her brow creased frustratingly. "…is she here?"
Joyce shook her head, "…no. She's still at the Wheelers'…"
Hop eyed her, "You shouldn't come Joyce…"
A glimmer of something flashed behind her eyes, and it was something he'd never seen before, but he knew it was mixed with anger. "I'm going!" she stated affirmatively.
He shook his head, "No. They'll recognize you..." They'd just treated her sick son days ago, to no avail. Some of the doctors may still be puzzling over it...yes. They would most assuredly remember her name.
"Oh, and you don't think they'll recognize you?!"
"They know I'm looking for donors Joyce…they're gonna expect me…" he explained. She grimaced at him, shaking her head as the tears slipped down her face. His eyes were past watery…they were downright soaked. And she knew he was right. "I'm sorry…but I can't let him go out like this…"
Joyce shook her head, entirely discouraged at the thought of their tiny girl donating blood for a complete stranger. She bit her lip, eyeing him angrily for the first time in weeks. "…Hop…you, go there and you ask her. Tell her everything. Let her know what's going on. Be patient with her, and if she says no, just…drop her off here." She took a moment to sigh into her wrist, rubbing her forehead, "I was supposed to pick her up hours ago…"
"Sure Joyce…" he nodded, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I'll tell her."
"…okay," her voice broke a bit. "Just…just be careful with her Hop…she's…she's just a kid."
"I know..." he sighed. "I'll make sure she has enough to eat afterwards..."
"Good…good…" she nodded, pursing her lips restlessly. They gazed into each other's eyes a moment more, as if Hop was waiting for some unspoken cue. Apparently he'd gotten it, and Jonathan watched him go, dumbfounded and uncompromising. The door closed behind him.
"You're just gonna let him do that?!" he blurted out the moment Hop was through the door.
"W-What?!" Joyce spun around at the noise, taking in her son's frustrated expression.
"You're right Mom, she is just a kid. But that doesn't mean she should make all her decisions on her own!" he stressed. "How could you let him go through with this?!"
"Jonathan, she'll be fine! I…I-I know it!" she shot back. Jonathan shook his head, disgusted. He retreated into his room, the slam of his door shaking the house. "Jonathan…" her voice trailed him as she shook her head. She felt like breaking down again, ready to crumble beneath the crushing weight of her stress. That's when she saw the table and their two plates of food…untouched and cold. She sighed, a hopelessness consuming her as she scooped the food into the trash, placing the dishes into the sink. Oddly enough, there was still some left in the pan. Joyce eyed it confusingly. He'd saved her some food…she nearly broke into a sob, plating the food and covering it with plastic wrap. This plate went into the fridge, safe and sound amidst the chilled air. She'd sleep on the couch tonight, waiting for them to return. Joyce couldn't help it…Hop had told them everything, and a new doubt began lurking in the shadows, taking control of her every thought and action. It was distrust…purely cautionary, but it made her sick to her stomach just by considering it.
"Boys?" Ted called down the stairs, eyeing the basement through sleepy eyes. The small bodies were strewn about the room, tucked within assorted blankets and pillows. Mike and Will were sleeping on the floor, Dustin was hogging the couch and Lucas had collapsed in the far corner, turned to face them all. He squinted, searching about for the girl until he eventually found her, tucked beneath the open flap of Mike's fort, wrapped within his yellow sleeping bag. They breathed in a peaceful rhythm, soothing and calm, except for the occasional snore from Dustin. Ted pursed his lips, not having the heart to wake them up or separate them in any way. This is alright, he told himself. Nothing wrong here. He walked back up the stairs, gingerly shutting the basement door and returning to his room. The weight of his body sinking into the mattress alerted Karen to his presence. She turned to speak but he simply hushed her in a comforting tone, "I sent her to Nancy's room. They're all sleeping."
"…good…" she mumbled, still very much asleep. They lazed back into a now quiet slumber, Ted grinning to himself in the darkness.
Eleven's eyes snapped open. A shiver raked its icy claws over her, and she turned to spot Mike, sleeping closest to her tiny fort. A smile graced her lips as her eyes wandered over the rest of them. Will's blankets were empty and disheveled, and she noticed that the bathroom light was on. Her smile slowly disappeared, but rather than get up, she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Mike mumbled himself awake, blinking at the odd sight. For a split-second he was terrified. He hadn't expected Eleven to be leaning on her side, her eyes closed like she was using her powers. Wait…what if she was? "El?" he whispered, unable to snap her from her mantra. Eventually her eyes reopened with a slight sway of her head, her mouth parting in a frightened expression that made Mike's stomach drop. She crawled from beneath the fort, stepping over Mike and warily picking her way towards the bathroom. He sat up, eyeing her incredulously, "El…no…EL!" She turned back to glare at him. "I think Will's in there…remember? Privacy?" Dustin and Lucas blinked awake at Mike's hissing whisper, eyeing the standing form confusingly. Eleven stared him down a moment, her gaze doggedly defiant, then turned and continued on towards the door. Mike scoffed and jumped to his feet, grabbing her wrist. She turned, truly glaring at him now, "El…privacy…? Will is in there!"
Her eyes locked with his, straightening back up and allowing him to hold her hand, "No…"
His brow creased, "…what?" He felt El take his wrist this time, leading him towards the closed door. Mike was extremely tempted to drag her away, but all he could do was grind his heels into the carpet, making her job twice as hard.
"What are you guys doing?" Lucas groaned, squinting at them and shaking his head. Dustin sat up, rubbing his eyes and watching them suspiciously. Then, Lucas and he both noticed Will's empty sleeping spot, glancing back up at their two friends, horrified. El's hand was gripping the doorknob.
The boys all shouted at once, "DON'T-!" The two shot to their feet, rushing over as El let the door swing open, holding Mike's hand behind her. The boys all closed their eyes, only opening them when they didn't hear any kind of horrified outburst. El released Mike's hand, her face opening up with a new peal of terror as he slowly peeled his eyes open.
"…Will…" she breathed. Mike stared in awe at his friend, motionless and prone on the bathroom floor.
"Will?" he rushed towards him in the tiny space, shaking the unconscious boy fiercely. He was immediately joined by the other two, their hands harshly shoving him as El crept to the sink, knowingly peering into the bowl. "Will? Will wake up!"
"What's wrong with him?!" Lucas shouted an unanswerable question.
"Mike…" she called in a soft tone, her eyes widening with fear. At first he wanted to ignore her, but then he saw the way she stared into the bowl and blasted to his feet. They all crowded around the sink, eyeing the wriggling slug that lay within.
"Shit! Another one?!" Lucas exclaimed, peering worriedly down at their sick friend.
"Oh Jesus this is bad…" Dustin crowed, returning to his knees. "Why the hell is he sleeping?!"
"I don't know!" Mike stammered, crouching beside the girl and shaking his friend.
"Should we get your parents?" Lucas urged.
"I DON'T KNOW!" Mike shot back. Eleven's brow was creased worriedly, her lips pursing of their own accord. Mike had a lightbulb moment, peering up to eye her. "…El! Do you think you can wake him up?!" Reluctantly, she nodded in a rather unconvincing manner, sitting beside him and closing her eyes. It felt like every one of her nerves stood on end as goosebumps ravaged her skin.
"…what's she doing?" Lucas asked.
"SH! Let her focus!" Mike hissed. They watched in awe as she reached out to grip Will's cold hand, immediately flinching at some invisible energy that swiped at her chest. Suddenly, the lights flickered, then blew out completely. The boys flinched at this nostalgic reminder, turning to exchange awestruck glances.
"...if only Will could see this..." Dustin chuckled.
"SHH!" Mike and Lucas hushed him, Dustin wincing at their hisses.
"Sorry..." he whispered an apology. They heard Eleven inhale deeply, working extra hard to focus past their rambling voices. She knew once she got in, there would be no turning back...not until she located Will. A hint of doubt still plagued her. It had been months since she'd last attempted this…and for a moment she was worried she wouldn't be able to.
And then her eyes snapped open, her pupils dilating at the overwhelmingly dark depths. There was no light, just an open, infinite space before her. A glimmer of recognition flashed behind those hazel-brown eyes. She'd been here before. The girl stood on solid ground, noting the difference from when she projected from inside the bath…there was no water for her to slosh through here. She felt as if she were wandering a completely different realm, because for Eleven, this was a breakthrough. Never before had she done this without the help of submersion or isolation. She inhaled deeply, the plain scent of nothingness, though the smell of Mike's house seemed to linger faintly on the atmosphere. She could somehow still feel their presence surrounding her, a ghost of a hand still clutching her own. Oddly enough…this was not a comforting feeling. It made her feel like she had to protect them all, even though they weren't really here...wherever here was. Cautiously, her eyes flitted to an object in the distance, slowly wandering about the obscure depths. It looked like an ant from this distance, and El squinted her eyes. She took one step towards it and it spun around to face her; she instinctively froze in response. It too fixed itself to a halt, each individual unable to identify one another from across the empty vastness. She needed to be brave…she needed to be strong…for them.
"…Will?" her voice echoed across the vacuum, reaching his ears easily. The boys back home flinched as her physical body spoke, calling the same name in a slightly muted voice.
She could hear their bickering voices in the distance, an echo of Dustin's voice whispering, "Do you think they can see each other?" Will heard the same voices, but something else too...something angry. It suddenly broke into a rumbling growl just behind him, sending bone-jarring chills racing along his spine. He was too petrified to turn and look, so he bolted in the opposite direction, towards the less-threatening figure in the distance. And suddenly, that same figure began sprinting towards her, traveling at full-tilt and whimpering loudly with each pant.
Eleven trembled, taking a few steps back, those brown eyes widening drastically as her voice now demanded an answer, "Will!?" They watched her echo the same words, in a subdued, half-conscious tone. Mike's brow creased as Will mumbled incoherently, his physical form entirely paralyzed.
"RUN! IT'S COMING!" Will screamed, now reaching her in the blackness and snatching her hand. Just before she was ripped from the spot, her mouth fell open as something shimmered into view. It growled in a ferocious tenor, racing after them like a hunter and running far too quickly. El yelped, her horror registering like a snapping bone from the depths of her subconscious, rippling across her face fervently. The only thing playing in her mind was Will's repeated order, "KEEP GOING! RUN!"
"What's he saying?" Lucas' voice teased them in the mire.
"I can't understand him…" Dustin whispered along the still air. Mike watched in horror as a trail of blood made its way along Eleven's lip, a deep, scarlet red.
They sprinted endlessly through the darkness, their legs strong and limber but quivering with inexorable fear. The terror struck Eleven much more acutely than it hampered Will, the beast reminding her of something from her past. It roared, nearly at their heels as Will made a sharp right, practically dragging the girl behind him. El's hand nearly slipped from his at the force of the turn, the beast's claws missing her head by a few inches. She felt her scalp tremble as the air swished beneath the beast's power, the ground shake beneath its paws as it skidded to a halt, its claws scraping against the pitch-black floor as the children hastily put more distance between them. El peered over her shoulder, stopping for a mere second to get a better look at the beast. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Will shrieked, rapidly pulling her arm. His teeth were chattering, his legs pounding and his skin slicked with fear. Every breath for him was a barely subdued, terrified whimper, "WE HAVE TO GO!" The beast was readying itself to pounce, its tail flicking about as numerous tentacles stretched from its shoulders, writhing maniacally. Will watched El stand her ground, glaring defensively at the beast with her head down-turned and her heels dug determinedly into the ground. Suddenly, it's glaringly yellow eyes glinted, momentarily blinding the kids. In the split second it took them to blink at this diversion, three more copies of the beast appeared beside the monster and Eleven gaped, watching in horror as the clones all vaulted themselves towards them. Both kids shrieked, Will dragging her away by the hand. They ran, barely dodging their furious swipes and razor sharp claws.
If El could compare this to one thing, it would have to be when she'd first seen the Demogorgon…and touched it. That single second of contact had torn a hole in space and time, allowing it to enter their world thanks to Eleven's abilities. From then on, their experiences were haplessly intertwined…at least Eleven felt they were. She'd have dreams of being the Demogorgon in graphic detail, experiencing the rush it felt as it ripped it's prey apart, limb from limb. Those dreams had ended once she'd killed it, seemingly ridding herself of this psychotic parasite…but it was still affecting Will physically. She couldn't let them in again.
Peeking over her shoulder as they ran, she noticed a few of the copies shimmering in an odd fashion. Those are the clones, she thought. Oddly enough, the real beast lingered far behind its brothers, walking in a meaningful, slow fashion with its ears laid back. It seemed to be focusing hard to maintain this diversion strategy…but El saw right through this. Now she knew which one to kill, and she stiffened to a stop, glaring at the beast angrily. Will dragged her off her feet, breaking her concentration as she collapsed onto her knees. "N-NO! DON'T DO IT!" he yelled, desperately lugging her again, desperately trying to get her to her feet. He remembered Mike worrying about El's power, and he knew that if she was drained here and now by killing the beast…they might not make it out of here alive. There was a single moment of hesitation El spent scrambling to her feet, and it was all one of the twins needed to swipe at her back, his claws seamlessly cutting into her skin. El shrieked in horror, falling to her side and gazing up at the beast abhorrently, tensing every single muscle and waiting for something to happen…but nothing did. Why hadn't the gate opened? They'd made contact!
Suddenly, the clones all disappeared into clouds of dust as the real monster let out a ferocious roar, his jaws twisting in a demented snarl. Its nostrils flared, steaming like a teapot. The boy was whimpering quite loudly when he suddenly noticed Eleven crying out in agony, gripping his hand painfully. "W-What happened?! Are you okay?! C-Can you run?!" Will shouted a trillion questions. El shook her head, her face contorting as the searing pain tore across her back. Will stared back at the creature, trembling with fear as his mouth parted in shock. It was preparing to pounce, assuming the same position as it had last time, it's eyes yellow and haunting. That was when something wriggled about in his pocket, something he'd purposefully pinched the instant he'd found himself in this place. Eleven watched through blurry vision as Will dug in his pocket, extracted the exact same slug he'd puked into the sink and tossed it directly at the monster. The instant it left his hand, the beast roared, lunging forwards with dizzying speed.
They watched, shrieking in horror as it tackled the tiny, defenseless thing, tearing it to shreds, splattering its insides about like fresh blood. Will felt sick to his stomach, unable to fathom this kind of death. Eleven knew it was all over. As soon as it was done devouring that useless thing…they were next. Will eyed her helplessly, "WHAT DO WE DO?!" El watched, her expression illustrating her hopelessness as she clasped their hands together. She simply turned to face the monster, struggling to surmount her choking fears and preparing herself to kill it when it's yellow eyes leered up at them. It's slit-like pupils dilated threateningly and both Will and Eleven shook with terror, wincing with fright and holding each other tighter. The beast licked its jowls, hissing at them menacingly…and then, promptly turned away, walking off and disappearing into a flurrying cloud of mist. They watched in amazement, gulping down their first semi-relaxed breaths.
"Gone…" El gasped, tightening her grip on Will's hand. Then, to her immense horror, the boy dropped to the floor and she was suddenly grasping thin air. Will's form was materializing into nothing more than a colorful cloud, fading away into oblivion. El watched this, quivering and shaking her head. "NO…" she whimpered in a breathy shout, shivering uncontrollably. "NO!"
"…NO!" she yelped, jerking back into consciousness. The boys were surrounding her again, fussing all over them with endless relief and curiosity.
"EL!" Mike nearly screamed. "El you're okay!" Tears stained her face, joining the blood already dripping down her lip and jawline. She grimaced, leaning her head into Mike's shoulder as he blinked in amazement, trying to imagine what had just happened.
"Oh my god…" Dustin sighed with relief.
"What happened?!" Lucas immediately questioned as Mike gripped her shoulders comfortingly. That familiar taste of blood leaked from her nose and between her lips as she looked down to Will, his hand still white-knuckling her own. After a moment, he too woke up, blinking at the sudden onslaught of hands and voices.
"…w-whoa…" he stammered, smiling tiredly at his friends.
"WILL!" the boys all cheered, Lucas being the first to capture his friend in a crushing hug. Will coughed jokingly between their arms as Dustin joined in. Mike remained at El's side, noticing her face cringing with something akin to torture.
"Oh man! We thought you were gone again!" Dustin exclaimed, holding Will's shoulder reassuringly.
"I…I don't know…" he stammered, still recovering from his terrifying adventure. "I thought I was too…" Despite this worrying statement, they chose to quell their fears and doubts. They simply relished in the fact that he was here beside them. For Will, it was like their hands were anchors to this world...and he deeply wished he could somehow tell them that. But something still gnawed at his brain, and somehow he wriggled free, rising to his feet a little unsteadily. He peered into the sink, gripping its porcelain edge. The slug was gone. Will began sorting through his racing thoughts. That wasn't the Upside Down…it was something else. So…if the slug was killed in that realm…maybe it went away here too? Lucas and Dustin stood beside him, keeping steady hands on his shoulders. "…did it go down the drain?" Will asked, still catching his breath as if he'd just ran a marathon.
Lucas stood beside him, squinting in an incredulous manner, "…um…does it matter?" Will locked eyes with him, his brow creasing in an uncharacteristically serious way.
"We're not sure…we were watching El use her superpowers," Dustin raised his eyebrows humorously. Will did not smile at this, eyeing her worriedly as he remembered another terrifying possibility.
"Mike…" she gasped, baring her teeth and biting back tears. She was gripping his arm tightly, trying to express her agony, wincing over and over with every little movement. The scorching pain was so intense, her breaths were coming shorter and quicker, rendering her speechless. He was simply lost in her face, unable to look away for fear of missing some sort of wordless cue.
"E-El?! Are you hurt? It's okay! You're back! You're safe!" he captured her in a hug and she whimpered, pushing him away and sobbing at the stinging sensation.
"No…" she gasped, trying to make him understand. Mike went back to holding her shoulders, inadvertently noticing his sleeves…which were now stained with some kind of dark liquid. Mike's brow creased, believing it to be paint at first. But to his overwhelmingly severe panic, Dustin gasped and pointed to her back, his eyes widening in horror.
"What is that?!" he shouted. They all looked at the red streaks leaking through her shirt, watching her gasp at the shooting anguish. Will inhaled sharply, his brow creasing in shock.
It was horrible, and had cost his new friend her safety…but now he knew. He knew exactly what had happened to him whenever he let himself slip into that ceaseless, black void…and what could still happen if he fell into it again.
To be continued…
Authors Note: Thank you so much for reading! I've been very busy these past couple days and was dying to finish this! So, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Stay tuned for more chapters and tell me what you think, good or bad! Keep on writing! -Nightlock