"Eleven are you listening?"
A shudder rushed through her, the words vibrating through her mind as she watches Papa-no Brenner, she reminds herself-reaching towards her, with a calm yet calculating expression. El screams, trying to get away from him before he can touch her, grab her, but she finds herself immobilized, her body rebelling against her. "No," she stammers, the word with which she has always been most familiar. "No no no no no no no." She's screaming, thrashing around but it isn't until a worried voice mutters "El? Are you okay?" that she starts to wake. Her eyes open, finding the sheets of her bed tangled around her, the familiar yellow walls replacing the bleak white ones of the lab from her nightmares. She tries to steady her heartbeat, but finds it refusing to lessen now that she's awake. She looks around for the source of the voice, hoping beyond measure that it's him-Mike, the one person she can count on to calm her to soothe her beating heart and still her nerves. But it's not him, couldn't be him, not with him living clear across the country.
She looks up and it's Joyce, a worried look in her eyes as she enters the room and comes to sit at the edge of the bed. "It's alright sweetie, you're safe," she coos as she places a warm hand on El's arm. El starts to relax at the contact, although her heart still beats abnormally fast.
"I... I had a nightmare." She stammers, but doesn't elaborate further.
Joyce just looks at her sadly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
El shakes her head, still hearing Brenner's voice echo in her mind. Eleven, are you listening? "What time is it?" She deflects, looking around and figuring it was not yet morning.
"It's 4am." Joyce sighs and lays a hand against her forehead, looking tired and defeated.
"Did I wake you?" El asks, feeling guilty.
"No, no," Joyce waves her hand in rebuttal. "I've been awake."
El doesn't answer, but she can't help but imagine what nightmares might be plaquing Joyce at this hour. She's grateful to Joyce, for caring for her, taking her in after her dad's death, giving her a home and a life not spent in hiding. Though the arrangements weren't ideal, given that El was miles away from the only home she's ever known, she can't blame Joyce for that. She loves her new little family, even if El still can't help but feel like an outsider, a disrupter in their world. But no matter the circumstances, the Byers, Joyce especially, understand El's trauma, the horrifying world El has dealt with all these years.
Joyce then gives El a smile. "You know, in Indiana, it's 6am. Maybe there's someone else you want to talk about your nightmare with?"
A flush colors El's cheeks, though she isn't sure why. Of course Joyce knows the connection El shares with her boyfriend, the undeniable depth that bounds the two together. She's right, Mike is the one she wants to talk to about all of this, the one she trusts beyond measure, especially with Hop gone…
She shrugs at Joyce, mutters a quick "okay" and crosses to the hallway where the telephone hangs in the Byers' home-her home. She dials the number without further comment, and hears Joyce get up and walk back into her bedroom. The phone rings and rings, and soon she worries that no one's awake in the Wheeler residence, feels resigned to go back to her room and try to smother a few more hours of restless sleep…
"Hello?" A somewhat cheery voice answers, and El can't help but grin at the way Mrs. Wheeler is clearly trying to deflect the tiredness in her voice with one of cheeriness and hospitality.
"Hi Mrs. Wheeler," she answers. "Is Mike home?"
"Yes, I'll get him, just a second." El can hear a distant "Mike" shouted from the other end, and the grin on her face grows. Her heart starts beating faster again, the way it always does when she anticipates talking to Mike on the phone. She tries to picture his tired, but excited expression as his mother hands him the phone.
"Hello, El, is that you?"
"Hi Mike." She smiles, though she knows he can't see her face. "It's so good to hear your voice."
"What's wrong?" Worry dousing his voice. "It's what, 4am in New Mexico? Are you okay?"
I'm fine, she wants to say, her usual deflection of how she's feeling to erase the worry in those around her. But she stops herself, because this is Mike, and clearly she is not okay. "I had a nightmare," she begins, feeling her heart begin to race again, though for considerably less pleasant reasons. "I was back in the lab, and Papa, er Brenner, was there, trying to control me again. I mean, I don't know what exactly he wanted, I just knew he wanted me." Her body is shaking, the images plaguing her thoughts as her mind is trapped in her nightmare again. "He had the others too, the other numbers and I wanted to help them, to save them from him, but I couldn't move." She gulps, then whispers "I couldn't even help myself." A single tear trails down her face at the memory, the flashback of her past.
Mike is silent, probably racking his brain for the right thing to say, but El doesn't care. She can feel his presence as more words flow from her. "Mike, I, I know he's dead, gone, but I can't stop the flashbacks from coming. It's like he's controlling me all over again, even though he's not here. Ever since Hop...died," she says slowly, "the nightmares are worse. Without my powers, I feel scared, all the time." The tears are running faster now, and she tries to control them before the sobs come. "Mike, I need you. You're the one person who makes me feel safe, who makes the nightmares go away. I just...miss you. So much." And with that, her voice no longer works, the sobs taking over.
"Oh El," Mike says simply, and she catches the quiver in his voice. "I'm so sorry. I wish more than anything I could be there with you right now. To hold you, to comfort…" He shakes his head sadly. "I know you're scared, and that's totally understandable. But I promise, El you're safe. It might not feel that way, but I know that that bastard Brenner is dead. The lab is gone, no one is going to hurt you, ever again."
El hears him sigh, taking a deep breath before he continues. "I just, I hope you know that I would do anything for you El. I love you, so so much." El sniffs, a smile mixing with the tears on her face at the words. She'll never get tired of hearing those words, the declaration of love that was so hard for him to admit at first, but now something she hears from him constantly.
"I love you too," she whispers.
They finish the conversation with more consoling words and comfort born and El trials off to her bedroom, a thousand thoughts consuming her.
Eleven, are you listening?
She shudders.
Mike is distracted all day after talking to El. He's thinking about her as he gets ready for school, as he sits in homeroom next to Lucas, as he slumps against the table at lunch, and even when Dustin tells him about their next Hellfire Club meeting scheduled for that afternoon. He feels awful, really, picturing her clear across the country while being plagued with these horrible fears. He hates being separated from her. Sure, he knows that even if they were together right now, she'd still probably be having nightmares, still be forced to face all the trauma she's had to endure. But if they were together, at least he could be there for her. Could hold her in his arms as she cried, could kiss the tears away, could be a steady presence amongst the storm. Why did she have to leave? He asks for the billionth time that year.
The day sweeps by and he finds himself sitting next to some of his friends, a game of DnD going on around him. He's not involved much in the game, just going through the motions as idle prattle surrounds him. "Mike, it's your roll."
Mike feels Dustin's eyes on him, a look of concern etched on his face as his friend no doubt guesses where his mind is at. Mike takes the die from Dustin with no comment, just wanting the game to end, honestly, so he can go sulk in his room. As he rolls, he sees, with a sudden lurch of his heart the number the die lands on. 11.
Dustin's eyes widen as Mike scoots his chair back, standing up suddenly, crossing the room without a word.
"What are you…" Dustin voice trails off as Mike leaves, grabbing his bike and pedaling away, as far away as he can get. Mike doesn't know how he's going to do it, but the determination he feels proves that he doesn't care about the details. He's going to her, now. Come rain or hellfire.
The end.