The city streets are bustling with people in the spring of nineteen eighty-six, shouts and the honking of car horns filling the air. It's March twentieth, two days away from spring break, and from around the corner of a building, Will Byers and El Hopper come tearing down the sidewalk, shoes slamming against the pavement. Behind them, two boys and a girl – all of them double the size of Will and El despite all being the same age – shout and scream, waving their fists as they chase after them.

One of the boys, wearing a black Members Only jacket and khakis, thrusts his arms forward and slams Will to the pavement. The skin of Will's forearms scratch against the cement, leaving streaks of blood on the ground. And oh, does it burn.

Before he can move, the boy grabs him by the shirt collar and yanks him to his feet. "Where do you think you're going, faggot?"

Choking from the fabric tightening against his throat, Will grasps at the boy's hands whilst keeping his eyes on the ground, trying to suppress the anger boiling up inside him. Beside them, El rushes forward and yanks the boy's arm. "Leave us alone."

The girl shoots El a glare, stepping between her and the boy strangling Will. "Shut up, lesbo."

"What do you want?" Will hisses, struggling in the boy's grasp. His mind blurs and black dots cloud his vision, but he tries to keep calm.

"What do we want?" the boy sneers. "We want you to get the hell out of our city, you freaks." He hurls Will backwards like a cannon. Will slams onto the concrete, his elbows slicing open and sending a rush of pain through his body like a dozen shards of glass splitting his skin apart. Wincing, he attempts to push himself to his knees, but the boy surges forward and slams his foot in Will's stomach. Whoosh! The air shoots out of his lungs and leaves him choking in shallow breaths.

"Stop it!" El shoves the boy to the side, but the girl grabs her by the hair and heaves her onto the ground beside Will. He exchanges a look with her before they're pummeled by kicks and punches.

"Hey!" a guy's voice booms from a few feet away. "Knock it off, assholes!"

"Shit." The other boy grabs the arms of the girl and the boy with the Members Only jacket and gestures back the way they came. "Come on, guys. Let's go."

"Losers!" Landing one last kick to Will's stomach, the three bullies tear in the other direction.

Once the bullies disappear, Will and El sit up, muscles aching. Groaning, Will rubs his bruised arms and gestures to El who's holding her hand to her head. "Are you okay?"

While El gives a stiff nod, the guy who yelled at the bullies appears beside them, extending hands to both of them. "You good?" Looking up, Will recognizes the friendly face of Jonathan's co-worker, Argyle. He and El take Argyle's hand and get to their feet.

"We're alright," Will says, checking the scratches on his arms. His elbows are bloody, but the cuts aren't deep. He can feel bruises forming on his stomach and ribs though, but at this point, he's used to it.

Argyle nods his head in the direction the bullies ran. "Who were those numbskulls?"

"Mouthbreathers," El murmurs.

He laughs. "Totally. Mouthbreathers."

The three of them make their way down the block towards the pizza shop where Argyle and Jonathan work. "Just some jerks from school," Will mumbles. His heart is still hammering in his chest. He can't stand those assholes. "They've been messing with us ever since we moved here."

Pulling open the door to the pizza shop, Argyle shrugs a shoulder. "You can always blackmail them."

Following him inside, Will and El both furrow their brows. "Blackmail them?"

"Yeah," Argyle continues, "but not really. You see-" He hops over the counter, ringing the service bell. "- you have to pretend you know something about them, slip a note in their locker or wherever, and tell them if they don't stop messing around, you'll tell everyone their secrets."

Will and El make faces. "What if they don't have any secrets?"

"Oh-ho!" He waves his finger in the air. "Everyone has secrets, little man. Everyone." He flashes them a grin, pulls on his Surfer Boy hat, and disappears into the kitchen. Exchanging looks, Will and El slide into one of the booths by the window overlooking the street. El takes her math homework out of her backpack while Will shoves his backpack to the side and stares out the window. His arms sting, and each breath he takes sends an ache through his body. The urge to electrocute those jerks is still at the front of his mind. He hates it.

El taps her pencil on the table. "Will?"

His gaze drops from the window to El, only to see a look of confusion etched across her face. "Yeah?"

"Those words those mouthbreathers called us..."

"Don't-" Holding his hand up, Will gives a shake of his head. "Don't say them. Those aren't words you want to use."

"What do they mean?"

"They're horrible words for people like me."

Her eyebrows knit together. "People... like you?"

"Yeah, you know..." Glancing around the shop to make sure no one's near, he lowers his voice. "Gay people."

"Oh."

"Those words aren't used by nice people, and they use them on anyone they don't like even if they aren't gay. They use words like that to make people feel bad about themselves."

Taking Will's hand, El looks into his eyes. "I'm sorry. I wish they wouldn't say that."

"I wish so, too."

They sit in silence for a moment. A small smile forms on his face, grateful for her presence in his life. Ever since their move to the city, they were all each other had. Yes, Jonathan's there when they need him, but with his focus on work and his plans to leave for college next year, it's been easier for Will to lean on El knowing she'll be there with him for the coming years. And there are definitely things she understands about him a lot better than Jonathan, to no fault of his brother.

Slumping down in the booth, El presses her palms to her forehead and frowns at her math homework. "Can you help me with the last two problems? I can't figure it out."

"If I can remember how to do it." He peers over at her paper and is relieved to see problems he actually recognizes. Grabbing his pencil, he starts scrawling in the answers, but El waves a hand at him.

"We're supposed to solve it like this." She points to a formula at the top of the page that Will can barely decipher. Since when did this exist?

"What is that?"

El scrunches her nose. "I don't remember what it's called, but we're supposed to solve all the problems using it."

"Okay, I'll try to figure it out." He sighs looking at the formula. "I'm not great at math either."

It takes them until the end of Jonathan's shift, fifteen minutes later, to finish the problems. In his Surfer Boy uniform, Jonathan comes over to their booth and ruffles Will's hair. "Ready to go?"

"Yep, ready." Will and El gather their bags and follow Jonathan out the door.

As they head to the car, Jonathan gestures to the gashes on Will's arms. "Were those jerks hassling you again?"

Glancing down at his arms, Will pulls down his sleeves to hide the injuries. "It's nothing."

He knows Jonathan doesn't believe him, and why should he? They've been getting beat up and harassed for months. At this point, any injury, be it from the bullies or not, would make Jonathan raise an eyebrow.

Unconvinced, Jonathan directs his attention to El who clutches onto her backpack straps. "What happened this time?"

Will tries to give her a look to get her to keep quiet, but she keeps her eyes forward. "Chased us from school again," she mumbles.

"If you need me to, I can try to ask for a different shift, so I can drive you two home from school."

They reach the car, and Will puts his hand on the roof as he shakes his head. "No, don't do that. You don't have to waste your study hall waiting around for us. We can defend ourselves." He slides into the passenger's seat, El hopping into the back. "Maybe I'll just zap them a bit. Give them a shock. Show them they can't mess around with us." He shoots a smile at El who laughs.

Shutting the door, Jonathan turns to him with a frown. Their laughter stops. "That's not funny, Will. You can't make people suspicious. Even if they are messing with you."

Heat rises to his cheeks. Looking down to his hands, Will nods. "Sorry, I was just joking."

"I know." Jonathan sighs, squeezing Will's shoulder before starting the car. "Just be careful."

While they pull out of the parking lot, Will turns on the radio, dialing through the stations until he stops on "In Between Days" by The Cure.

"Why don't we stop by the drug store for bandages?" Jonathan suggests. He glances in the rearview mirror at El. "Didn't you need some cold medicine anyways?"

"Yes, okay," El says while Will stares out the window at the passing shops and buildings. This coming weekend is his fifteenth birthday, and although he knows he should be excited about it, he's not. All he can think of is the fact that Mike is coming over, and they haven't spoken in months.

"Hey, bud," Jonathan says, pulling Will out of his thoughts, "how was that history test you had today?"

Will winces. That history test is the bane of his existence. The whole history class, actually. Admittedly, most of his classes since their return from winter break have been going terribly. No matter how hard he tries, with everything going on, he can barely concentrate on a thing.

"I'm taking your silence as meaning it didn't go well?"

Slumping down in his seat, he lets out a groan. "It's not like I didn't try."

"Hey, don't worry about it too much. It's just one test."

He keeps himself from saying that no, it isn't just one test. If he had to make an estimate, he probably failed the last three tests and four quizzes. And that's just in history class. He doesn't even want to think about math class.

In a couple minutes, they reach the drug store and go inside to buy bandages and cough medicine. This isn't a one-off event, buying first aid supplies at the drug store. In fact, Will and El bought several packages of band-aids and aspirin a mere week ago after a fairly brutal beating at school. They try their best to hide their injuries from Jonathan and Joyce, but it's hard when they come home with two black eyes and swollen faces. At least they didn't have to worry about sneaking around today since Jonathan already knew about it.

Once they buy the medicine and bandages, they head home, rocking out to The Clash on the way. When they reach their apartment, Will's stomach curls in on itself the moment they walk through the door. His mom spots the scratches covering his arms, her face falling. "What happened now?"

He looks to the ground, shoulders slumped. Jonathan sets the bag from the drug store on the kitchen table. "It's those same kids as before."

Will and El take a seat at the table while Joyce's face scrunches up. "I'm calling that school again. They can't let those kids get away-"

"You can't call them again," Will begs, both him and El tense in panic. "It'll only make it worse. Those jerks know it was us who told on them last time."

"I'm not going to let them get away with hurting you." Joyce reaches for the phone but stops short when she sees the defeated look on Will's face. A sigh escapes her lips. "Okay, fine. What are their names?"

Will's eyebrows draw together. "What?"

"Those kids. Those ones who keep picking on you. What are their names?"

He and El glance at each other. "I don't know," he says. "I never learned them."

Joyce frowns. "You don't know their names?"

Ignoring Jonathan who's standing by the counter studying his and El's expressions, Will forges on. "No, they never said their names. It's a big school. Not everyone knows each other."

"How did the principal know who to punish then?"

Will pauses. Shit... maybe he shouldn't have lied. Before he can make up an excuse, El says, "They made an announcement, and Will's friend knew who they were, so he told the principal their names."

Joyce sighs. "Well, why don't you see if you can figure out their names tomorrow? Ask that friend of yours. That way, I can call their parents and explain to them what's going on."

"Call their parents?"

"Or at least so I can go to their homes myself and confront them. I'm sick of these kids picking on you and hurting you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

Glancing at her watch, Joyce slaps her hand to her forehead. "Oh, right. Your appointment is in half an hour. Let me change, and we can leave in a couple minutes. Why don't you have a quick snack?" She gestures to the fridge before rushing to her room. The door rattles shut.

"Need help with the bandages?" Jonathan asks.

Going over to the fridge, Will shakes his head, grabbing two cheese sticks from behind the milk carton. "I can handle it myself." He hands a cheese stick to El while biting into the other.

"If you say so." After taking an apple from the fruit basket in the center of the table, Jonathan retreats to his bedroom.

Taking a seat, Will unrolls the bandage and wraps it around his elbow and forearm. Chewing her cheese stick, El leans forward, her voice quiet. "Why aren't we telling your mom their names?"

He notices the confusion in her eyes and chooses his words carefully. "If their parents confront them about what they're doing, they'll only be worse. Just like with the principal. No one likes a snitch."

"Snitch?"

"Yeah. Someone who tells on other people. That's why they won't leave us alone after Mom called the school. They know we told them, and they got in trouble because of it. Not much trouble, apparently, but enough to piss them off. If they know we told their parents or if Mom goes to their houses, they'll never leave us alone."

"What are we supposed to do?"

Looking down at his hands, Will takes a moment to contemplate his plan. With a smile tugging at his lips, he meets El's eyes. "Fight back."