"So, what's the plan again, exactly?" Lucas whispers, voice urgent.

They had arrived at the Creel's house, the background illuminating the house as gothic and gloomy. It was silent, in a way that was foreboding (and apparently, that was something Lucas feels he's noticed alone).

Everyone else seemed particularly convicted in taking the bad guy down without amending their prior plan, but Lucas had his doubts. The bats would have relayed their presence as soon as possible to him, right?

"We've cornered him. There's no way out. We have to stick together now; be Eleven's stronghold." Dustin states, and Lucas glares.

"I'll be so kind to remind everyone, but he knows we're here. Like, the place just reads 'enter, and you're doomed'. What good are we to Will if we're all dead when we go voluntarily into that death trap in waiting?" Lucas gives the building a side-eye of rightful suspicion as if to further his point.

"We're not stupid, of course it's a gigantic, probably humongous side of a one-way ticket to trap central. There's nothing we can do. That's where Vecna will be, inside that house, and the longer we hesitate, the greater chance Will could…"

Dustin shakes his head before he continues, "our best shot is our original plan. El as our main weapon, everyone else is there to protect her."

Lucas remains unconvinced. But he knows he can't think up any other plan than the one they've got, 'cause yeah, they're going to have to go in there regardless. He'd obviously just rather Vecna be anywhere else except a musty old Upside Down attic. It also sucks that their advantage of surprise has hopelessly dissipated into the stratosphere, and when they were so close too.

All he really hopes is that El's got it together. Even he's noticed she's looked peakier by the second since they got here. Max has been particularly worried; he's seen her give El increasingly concerned looks as they trekked on after what happened with Will.

"Now or never, guys." Steve says, nodding toward the front door.

God, it can't get worse than this, Lucas bemoans, knowing they're just going to walk on in like huge idiots. Vecna will probably laugh in disbelief at the complete absurdity that they all present. That makes two of us, he supposes.

"Right, yeah. Let's walk in through the front door." Lucas says, hands rubbing and clapping at his face. "Fuck it." No one hears him, or they at least ignore him.

Once they've entered, one-by-one, El as the leader, they look around the darkness of the home, with light gliding in through the windows and making the spores floating in the air reflect translucently.

They're as quiet as mice, and every rustle of sound and movement creates a paranoid mood that wraps them up in a tight bubble.

It's as though they feel they're being watched as they move toward their destination, and it becomes convincing whilst they know it isn't a wild assumption.

Yet, they didn't factor in Vecna's egotistical flair. Because whilst he is focused solely on Will, he hears but a whisper of a feather of their approach.

And so, they are safe. For now.

Mike and Jonathan settle Will against a far-side rock, not too distant from the protection of the forest.

They have both noticed Will's eyes, rolled back to expose the whiteness, but being able to do nothing but keep an obsessive eye on the headset covering his ears.

"Why Will?" Jonathan says quietly, torment edging his voice. His eyes seem to hold some understanding, though it brings him no comfort as he sees his brother so completely vulnerable.

He glances at Mike, who looks at his hands, something unfathomable in his expression, before he opens his mouth.

"It's my fault."

Jonathan stares at him. Mike looks up to meet the gaze, then shifts his eyes back toward Will, as though to demonstrate that he feels shame-faced, and tears start to blear his vision.

"I did this. I-I." He gulps and grabs at his hair.

"What? Of course, you didn't. It's-,"

"You don't understand." Mike cuts him off, shaking his head, "I've ignored him, basically since you guys left Hawkins. I-I've been such a dick. He thinks I hate him. That I don't want to be friends, best friends, anymore. I started this, this rift. I thought that if I pretended, that. That we weren't close anymore, I wouldn't feel-," Mike shuts up, looking petrified suddenly.

Jonathan's eyebrows are scrunched up, confused. "Mike. It's not your fault. Will's… not like you or me. There's always been a lot on his mind. Look, I promise that even if you upset him, you can't convince yourself you're the sole underlying problem here. Vecna is."

"I'm a reason, though. Even if it's one among many, I'm still just another thing Will has had to deal with. I'm just a part of one huge stupid reason Will might feel bad enough that Vecna could latch on to him."

Jonathan has nothing to say in response to that declaration.

Mike turns his body away from him resolutely, focusing his full attention on Will, who looks pale and sunken against the rock. He wishes wholeheartedly that he could go back in time, do everything different, and maybe Will wouldn't be where he is now. In reach, but not, with nothing that Mike could do to change it.

Then, Will goes rim-rod straight, arching inhumanly.

They both jump up.

No, no, no, no, Mike thinks in abject horror.

They grab hold of Will, who begins to rise above the ground.

"Will!" Jonathan says breathlessly, as though unbelieving the reality of what was happening. Was this it?

Mike grabs at his arm, "no! You can't have him! Will, please." He screams desperately, fear inflecting his every tone.

But Will ascends despite their efforts, hands splayed to his sides, eyes seeing nothing but the hold Vecna has on his face, claws digging in.

Red light illuminates him, the speckles of dust, decay, spores, all of them beginning to spin fast around him. It was as though a surge of brilliant and terrifying energy was taking place, and the ground ripples below where Will is in the air.

Mike feels consumed by a specific self-hatred. He feels useless, on the ground and screaming for Will to come back. Everything in his vision zeroes in to where Will is balanced in the sky, evil surrounding him in a red haze, and wind rushes in Mike's ears. All he can do is watch.

Will's arm cracks oddly behind him, and both Jonathan and Mike snap to a cold silence. Mike hiccups in a sob, feeling sick to his stomach; Jonathan's throat closes in panic and his mouth goes dry, not understanding how it could be. It always works out, doesn't it?

Well, not this time.

El and the rest of the group creep up toward the attic, still hearing nothing but silence. At the door, El looks back at everyone's faces searchingly.

She swallows her nerves down, feeling again the same surge of determination from before.

So, she smiles at Max who holds her hand and gives her a sweet squeeze of support, but as El enters through the door, she takes her hand back and Max's fingers slip away.

She snaps the door closed before Max can follow her.

"El!" Max hisses, and then with comprehension dawning, "she's forcing the door shut."

"Let us in," Nancy says, stricken, worried they'll awaken Vecna with the scuffle, "El…"

She tunes them out.

She sees Vecna, hanging by his vines, eyes closed.

So, he's still got Will.

El takes a deep breath, calling on her vestiges of confidence and hope, and she raises her hand.

She will keep them all safe, every single last person.

She's a superhero, after all.

She blasts at him, vines falling from his form like flies, a hiss of breath, and Vecna's eyes slide open like a snake.

Just as suddenly as Will's arm bone breaks, snapping behind his neck, as Will is dangled in the air like a carcass to be spilled, he just as suddenly falls out of the sky, exclaiming in utter pain as his already broken limb hits the ground at a terrible angle.

Mike and Jonathan both rush to his body, frantic and overwrought.

"The music, I-I thought it wasn't going to work," Mike gasps into Will's wet hair, as Will cries as his eyes squint in the new light, cheeks ridden with tear tracks. Mike holds him close and rocks, "you're okay, you're okay." The words were more of a comfort to himself than to Will.

Will chokes, the unbearable agony sweeping through his arm and lighting his nerves afire, "Mike. S-Stop."

"Sorry!" He stops rocking him, and Will almost sighs in relief, though the pain still swamps his being.

He sees Jonathan on his knees next to him too, "welcome back, buddy," he says, smiling up to his eyes even through the distressed visage he presents, as he pulls a hand up to wipe away the tears.

"Are you guys, okay?" Will whispers, and they both laugh disbelievingly.

"Why am I not s-surprised, that that's what you're most concerned about just after you've almost died."

"That's Will for you," Mike states, eyes piercing Will's own, something Will can't place sparking within them.

"Yeah, that's Will." Jonathan repeats, clapping Mike's shoulder, bursting with an exhilarated relieved joy.

But Will remembers Vecna's face, as Will had stared him down even with the claws of his hand on his forehead, how Vecna's face switched from an eery delighted pleasure, to a sadistic infuriation, and how that was the last thing he remembered before he felt himself falling.

Will's eyes zip to and fro, and he sits up carefully, "where is everyone?"

Mike and Jonathan look at each other.

Mike starts, "they went to the Creel's. I, um, we wanted to stay with you."

Will's eyes widen, "Vecna knows."

"What?" Jonathan says, worriedly.

"He knew we were coming. They're in danger." Will says with his teeth clenched in discomfort, and Will's hand starts to shake as he tries to not clutch at his arm that hangs listlessly at his side, knowing it would only cause himself more suffering to try to move it.

Jonathan becomes numb, and breathes, "Nancy."

Will nods, and Mike roots through the bag after he lets Will go gently, holding up bandages to wrap Will's arm, and he says, "we can go help, but let's fix you first, okay?" He gulps, ears burning at his own soft tone, but reaches out a hand anyway to fix the headset laying wonkily on Will's head that miraculously survived without being flung in the fall down.

Will smiles at him, pleased, "okay."

And Jonathan and Mike both go to fix Will's arm up in a makeshift sling as delicately as possible, as Will bites down on some rope as his face scrunches up.

They all hope to all that is holy that their loved ones can hold out without their reinforcements, as little as they offer.

That Vecna isn't as prepared as he thought he'd be.