She's halfway there. Filly crawls even faster now, throwing herself into it fully. She feels trapped in the den, dug out of the earth and stone to escape the cellar it was trapped in. Dustin and Steve are counting on her to find it. From here, she should be able to see where Dart has gone.

She can't go any further. Though she's so close to the end, enough to reach the tips of her fingers into the rays of light outside of her entrapment, her hips won't budge any further. Her shoulders are caught between the diameter of the hole, not enough space for her to go any farther.

If she screamed, would they hear her? She's not sure how far she has traveled, only that it feels like hours since she left them.

The light's gone, blotted out by the heavy shadow that claims the space. She's back in the darkness, only it's more than that. Its face blooms open, completely blocking the opening ahead of her. When it cascades closed, sharp barbs catch on her forearm. The pain is indescribable. So gut-wrenching, so all-encompassing that she can't hear her own thoughts. She's screaming, she knows that on some base level, but she can't hear it. She does feel the burning of her throat as the wails wrench themselves from her diaphragm. She can sense the excruciating stabs of sharpened teeth puncturing her muscles, tearing apart her skin and then going back for more.

Is this Dart? Had he been a Demogorgon the whole time? Lying in wait, eating nougat, and appearing peaceful until it had the strength to turn the tables on them, Dart had finally gotten his chance to move up in the food chain. And to think Dustin had been in this monster's sight all that time. This is her end. It would be poetic, for her to live and die such as this At the very least, she wouldn't be going back to that place ever again. Never back to that man who calls himself their "papa".

The scream wakes her, dying out as she rips off her blankets. "Just a dream..." She's trying to convince herself, she knows it, but if it does its job then she couldn't care less.

The sun is almost fully over the horizon when she looks out the window. How had Filly slept so late? She confesses to herself that she really hadn't known what time her head hit her pillow last night, but she'd never say so to Dustin. She wants him to think her tough, capable, like she claimed to be.

"But am I really?" Her dream weighs on her while she tears into her rations. She sits on an upturned bucket, a protein bar caught between her knees while she stirs her oatmeal. Cold water soaks the oats and by the time the wrapper is filled with only crumbs, it's soft enough to eat.

She prides herself on the spoon she uses to shovel in her meal. She likes to be self-sufficient, though she can see the benefits of relying on someone like Hopper. It's so easy to get used to the conveniences he's brought her. Not just the food, of course.

He'd done a lot for her, but she can't help but wonder why. He's never here to spend time with her. He just leaves when he's done providing. But it worries her that he had never asked for anything in return. She's afraid that someday he will, and the price will be one she can't afford.

She's trying to be more like a human. More like Dustin. More like Joyce. More like a normal person. Less like a broken mess. She's not sure that it's working, but for all that she fears complacency, she fears being a pariah more and more. She wishes it was as easy as it looks for others. For people who are... regular. Common. Unlike her, the wretchedly morphed thing that she had become.

It matters little when the world is at stake, so she pushes past it and finds the strength to clothe herself. She dons a tight pair of jeans from Nancy that are long enough she has to roll up the cuffs twice. It feels snug, bracing almost. She'd only worn baggy jeans before this. It's odd, but she'll live. The chill makes her opt for a soft, dark jumper. It's one of Steve's, but his scent is long gone. The herbal sweetness of him has faded from the fabric and its woody grit has dissipated from the porous material. Now it only smells of the clean soap Hopper kept her stocked with. She throws on the old poncho as well, using it to hide her small bag.

She's still a bit peckish, so she tucks in a small bag of jerky for the walk. Jonathan always had Will bring it over, never forgetting the way she'd obliterated that first bag as though it were the best thing she'd ever tasted. It was when she was eating it. She had been so voraciously hungry at the time.

She had found a few other ways to tide herself over, though. Filly couldn't bring herself to wholly rely on the generosity of others.

There was one place she traveled to fairly often, a place where food grows. She had found it sometime this year, early in the summer when she had found peach trees lined up in grids. It was a wonderful place, but there were no peaches left now. Something else had taken their place. Beside the numerous rows of bare trees now lies a plot full of green heads, their leaves round and soft and so enticing. She never takes much, only one or sometimes two. She's never been caught and she won't ever be as long as her ability keeps her safe. Scanning over the field, she finds only one farmhand at work, tilling a field too far off for him to notice her. There are hundreds of feet between them. Plucking one head from the dirt, Filly wastes no time scampering off with her leafy ball of cabbage.

On the way home, she tosses it between her hands in a cool stream, rinsing the muck off as best she can. When she bites into one of the stripped petals in her hands. It crunches under her teeth, light and refreshing. It's moist, the water in the foliage quenching her while she returns home. The way the sun hangs in the peak of the atmosphere, she knows it's almost time for her to meet Steve and Dustin at the edge of the wood.

Tossing it quickly in her bag, she forgoes the trip home to head toward her boys. She knows exactly where they'll be waiting, a red "X" drawn on the map from Steve's glove compartment marking their spot.

It made things clear, looking at the creased paper of the map. The railroad goes straight by her junkyard before disappearing into the forest. The town looks hectic to her, all the little squares shoved so closely together. It would drive her insane, she thinks, to be stacked up so near to each other. Though, who's to say she hasn't already?

Pushing the thoughts aside, she keeps going, munching on another green leaf.

The familiar maroon sedan draws her vision. Nearing the road, she can see the boys in the car. She can't see what they're doing, but she doesn't need to. She recognizes them and that's enough to prompt her forward. She lets go of her sight and knocks on the window, smirking slightly when she sees him jump. She steps back so he can open the door and step out.

"God damn it, Fil." Although she feigns innocence, she can't fool the older boy. "Stop it with the fake smile. You're late."

"Sorry. Steve, Dustin," she calls to them when they're both out. They wear the same clothes as yesterday, probably having fallen into bed as soon as they were able and rolling out as she had. It's close to noon, but gray clouds are hazing the sky, blocking out the sun from view. "I came upon something tasty. Would you like any?" She offers them the head of cabbage. They don't partake.

Eyeing the ball of foliage she has in hand, Steve shakes his head and rounds the car. He pops open the trunk, responding, "No. Definitely not. We brought our own." He drops the buckets on the ground heavily, extracting all three from the boot of his car. They're filled with raw bits of meat. "There's enough for everyone, but it's not a snack. It's bait."

"I can't even have one?" She should've woken up earlier and gone hunting. She hadn't had any meat in a day and it was beginning to make her crave it. "Just a taste?"

Steve sighs, plopping his bookbag on the ground and stuffing it with supplies. That includes his slugger with nails in its head which sticks out of the zippered closure. "You can have whatever's left, okay? But I'm not letting you eat it raw. That's just gross."

Filly pouts, tugging on the clinging rubber of the gloves he hands her. Dustin dons his headset still, turning away as he speaks into it and presses a button on his hip. "Well, well, well. Look who it is."

"I don't see anybody."

Steve tugs on her sleeve from where he kneels, giving her a gentle look. "Ignore him, Fil." She tilts her head but accepts it. There are more important things, like getting this monster out of her woods. She takes the proffered supplies from Steve and shoves them in her tote along with her ration. He loads her down with a flashlight as well as an extra Zippo lighter. He promises the plan doesn't involve burning down her forest.

"Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again. He escaped and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgon." She hadn't expected it from the boy. Filly knows her nightmares were onto something when Dustin repeats them. If nothing else, Dart is definitely of the Upside Down. "I'll explain later, just meet me, Steve, and Filly at the old junkyard. And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket."

"Alright. Let's go." Steve calls them to move out once everything has been properly prepared. Filly treads just behind him with her own bag, a few sharp daggers joining with what Steve had foisted on her. They're about to tackle something that she doesn't know they'll live through, but she hopes.

"Just be there, Stat. Over and out."


She does sneak a few cubes of meat when Steve isn't looking. She doesn't risk too many, but enough to stop her stomach from growling. The trail is familiar to her. She walks the train tracks out through the forest and back again when she goes hunting. She steps over the raw bits that line the tracks ahead of her, catching up to the boys she follows after. She was listening to Dustin's tale and hadn't realized just how far she'd lagged behind.

"All right, so let me get this straight." Steve throws down another chunk of meat while he paraphrases Dustin's recollection. "You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?"

Dustin sighs, claiming, "All right, that's grossly oversimplifying things."

Filly doesn't think so. It sounded just like Steve implied. It was clearly a bad decision on Dustin's part. He could have been seriously hurt. She doesn't want to say it aloud but she's glad it was Mews instead of him that got eaten.

"I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?"

"An interdimensional slug? Because it's awesome," Dustin chuckles back, thinking it obvious.

Filly throws down meat in the places they miss, covering the tracks in wasted food. "Maybe if it was a tasty interdimensional slug. I'd like that kind of thing as long as I could eat it." She needs to stop thinking about her next meal. There's too much going on for her to be so concerned about herself. "Otherwise, I see your point, Steve. An inedible slug is an uninteresting one."

"Well, even if she thought it was cool, or good for eating, which she didn't, I-I just..." Steve lets the arm that holds his bucket fall limp, the container swinging at his thigh. "I don't know man, it just feels like you're trying way too hard."

Dustin mumbles under his breath, tipping his cap down and staring at the tracks. "Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair."

"It's not about the hair, man." Steve shrugs, shaking his head dismissively.

"Are you sure? It is very nice hair. Male avifaunas often use their impressive or colorful plumage to attract mates."

"No, and don't compare me to whatever that is." He shakes his head when she clarifies that she speaks of birds. "The key with girls is just... acting like you don't care."

Dustin turns his head, glancing probingly at the older boy. "Even if you do?"

"Yeah, exactly. It drives 'em nuts."

"Then what?"

"You just wait until uh... until you feel it."

"Feel what?"

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh..." Steve pauses, nodding to himself when he finds the right word. "electricity, you know?"

"Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Like a..." Though Steve discounts it, Filly liked Dustin's explanation better. It made more sense. "Like a sexual electricity."

"Like a what?" Her question gets brushed off. She could never understand why they answer some and not all. The males of her species are such odd creatures. Birds are simpler.

"Oh."

"You feel that," he emphasizes, pointing at the younger man before plopping down more bait. "And then you make your move."

"So that's when you kiss her?" Dustin wonders. Steve is almost relieved that she doesn't ask what he means, but he's even more stunned at the verbal path she takes before he can butt in.

"Bless you," Filly offers. She thought Dustin had sneezed before he could finish. Steve's reaction makes her think she was wrong.

His laugh cracks through the forest like a whip and winds itself around her stomach which is currently doing flips. The questioning look she sends him chokes off his outburst. "No. Fil, you're serious?" Her blank stare doesn't waver, confirming his thoughts. "A kiss... It's when you put your lips together. Spit swapping."

She pulls a face. "That sounds awful."

"It's not, promise. But listen up, Romeo. You gotta slow down. Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a... I don't know, like a lion."

While Dustin nods his head and looks like he wants to take notes, Filly doubtfully responds, "I don't think any girl wants to be mauled, Steve."

"It's a metaphor, okay? Not like an actual lion." He sighs, continuing, "Others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy like a... like a ninja."

"What type is Nancy?"

"Nancy's different. She's different than other girls."

"What kind are you?" Dustin is looking at her, expecting more of an answer than she can give.

"I... I don't know. I haven't..." She looks down, mourning the loss of something she hadn't even known she was missing out on. Was it something common for girls of her age? Would she ever experience it with the lab breathing down her back? Maybe she's better off not getting that close to anyone. "I could be any type, I guess? I may never know."

"Yeah, I guess you and Nance are pretty special. But this girl, she's special, too. It's just, like, something about her."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey." Steve comes to a full stop, prompting her and Dustin to do the same.

"What?" Dustin asks after a beat. Steve tosses the meat in his gloved hand.

"You're not falling in love with this girl are you?"

There's that word again. She can't bring herself to ask. It seems like such a big word, though it's only four letters. There's such a weight to it. It's heavy and that frightens her. Could she bring herself to do it if they were alone? Just her and Steve? She doesn't understand why that sounds so much more pleasant. It was so easy for them to say, but what does it really entail? There are so many definition for this one little word that even she can't remember them all.

Strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties.

Affection and tenderness felt by lovers.

Warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion.

But none of it means anything to her without a concept of its true meaning. She understands hunger because she's felt it. She understands pain because it's been inflicted on her. She knows loss because she's had it all and then had it taken away. What does she know of love? Another definition would do nothing for her now, she thinks."Uh, no. No." The swiftness of the response makes her think it odd.

"Okay, good. Don't."

"I won't."

"She's only gonna break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."

"Well, I think that sounds great, Dustin. You should spend more time with her." She smiles at the boy, hoping she departs some confidence in him. "She would be lucky to have you around, just don't forget to visit me when you're done "swapping spit"."

"Please don't ever say that again," Dustin pleads, turning his head down, apathetic, and returning to the task ahead, slinging down the morsels from his bucket. Steve watches the boy and sighs, once more opening his mouth.

"Fabergé."

"What?" Neither Filly nor Dustin has a clue what he means.

"It's Fabergé Organics," Steve repeats, pointing a yellow finger at his head. "Use the shampoo and the conditioner, and when your hair's damp... It's not wet, okay? When it's damp..." Dustin parrots him to burn it into his head. "You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray."

"Farah Fawcett spray?" Dustin's barely holding back his giggle.

"Yeah, Farrah Fawcett." He stops his feet and so does Dustin, standing together in the middle of the tracks. Steve shoves a rubber-covered finger under the boy's nose. "You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson. Do you understand?"

"Yup."

Steve smiles dubiously, laughing as if he's in on some kind of silent joke, breathing out, "Okay."

"I don't understand. What kind of faucet?" Hearing the explanation of who Farrah Fawcett was, she begins to understand that it's a branded hair product. What it's use is, she still doesn't know/ "Very hot" is how Steve describes the woman. "Hm. Is that why you smell so good?"

"What?" Steve asks, droopy eyes going wide. "What do I smell like?"

"Like... Balsam, honey, and herbs. Sweet and woody."

"Uh, yeah. That's just the shampoo."

Had she imagined his sudden shyness?


He doesn't know why he's blushing. Steve is still in love with Nancy.

Isn't he? Sure, their relationship hadn't been going great recently, but was he so unfaithful? Had it all gone down the drain so quickly? Maybe it wasn't that fast. Maybe it was a long time coming with the way they had been bickering lately.

It's not something he can worry about right now, in either case. The main problem they have is the monster that they'd lost in Hawkins. He collects his thoughts, staring out at the junkyard he'd often visited in the past year.

"The junkyard. Yeah, this will do. This will do just fine."

"Steve, this is my home. Please don't speak of it that way. It will more than "do"." Filly leads them down the gravelly hill and up to her bus. They scatter chunks of meat behind her, but she stubbornly refuses to drop another morsel. If she doesn't cook it, he's not leaving her alone with that stuff. She's not a dog, no matter how much she eats like one. "There's enough scrap out here that we could fortify the bus. It'll be a safe place to watch from."

When Steve and Dustin empty their buckets in the middle of the field, a voice draws their attention. "I said medium-well!" The sight of Lucas waving to them with a redhead at his side gets mixed reactions.

"Who's that?" Steve questions. No one answers, but Filly flails her hand back at the boy, her lips quirking into a smile. Dustin's face turns blank. Squinting to see them through the brightness of the sun, he looks less than pleased.

The bright afternoon sun beats down on them while they work. The redhead leans sheets of metal against the base of the bus while Filly sharpens her knives. She'd told Steve that she was "a wonderful shot". He prays she's good under pressure, too, not knowing what'll come for them tonight. Dustin is the only one who'd seen Dart's most recent form.

Speaking of Dustin, Steve starts to wonder where he went. Steve picks up the folding metal chair he'd spotted, turning his head to and fro to search for him and Lucas who had all but disappeared. There was too much to get done to lose two healthy workers. When he finds them ducking behind a totaled car, he has to startle them for their own good. It won't do for them to horse around at a time like this.

"Hey!" He shouts, slamming the chair down on the car's boot. "Dickheads! How come the only ones helping me out are Filly and this random girl? We lose light in like forty minutes. Let's go. Let's go, I said!"

"Alright, asshole! God."

"Okay! Stupid."

They complain, but they fall in line behind him. And with all hands on deck, they somehow manage it. They roll barrels in close to the stationary bus. They pile metal and wood on its every side. They line the inside walls with sheets of tin and steel, blocking every window. It's almost evening when they're done. Steve puts the finishing touches on the plan, coating the pile of bait with kerosene and drizzling a trail up to the bus's door. Filly and Max extract an old ladder from under some scrap, hoisting it into the bus together and placing it under one of two open moon roofs. They've done it. Before the sun can set, everyone piles onto the bus. Steve shuts the doors behind them. When Lucas suggests he keeps watch, Filly agrees.

"Good idea. I can't keep my sight up indefinitely," she says, wishing him luck as he ascends the ladder. Filly insists that they act at home. With Lucas above, only she, Steve, Dustin, and Max remain inside.

"So you really fought one of these things before?" the young redhead wonders. When she says it, Steve sits next to the teen girl on the floor, toying with his Zippo. He looks up at Max, nodding to her. "And you're, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn't a bear?"

Filly's mouth opens like she going to say something, but Dustin beats her to it. "Shit. Don't be an idiot. Okay? It wasn't a bear." He paces back and forth in the small corridor. "Why are you even here if you don't believe us? Just go home."

"Geesh," Max breathes, rising from the chair. "Someone's cranky. Past your bedtime?" She climbs the ladder, her red sneakers disappearing into the square hole at its top.

"Dustin." The boy looks at Filly, but she says nothing else. Her stare is hard, icy, but not a single word follows. It's no secret that she likes everything to be all rainbows and sunshine, but that's not the way life works.

"That's good. Just show her you don't care."

"Steve." Her stare is pinned on him now. What has he done now?

"What?"

"I don't," Dustin says, drawing his attention once more. Steve just closes one eye at him exaggeratedly, sure that it's a ploy to get the girl. It's what he would do at that age. "Why are you winking, Steve? Stop."

Fine. If Dustin doesn't want to talk, he'll return to the silence. He flicks the lighter open again and then closed again. Open. Closed. Open.

Closed.

And then a guttural growl sounds from outside.


A/N: This episode has my favorite Erica moment but I couldn't find a way to put it in that I was happy with. I love that she says that He-Man and Barbie are in love, but immediately has Barbie make out with an owl. It cracks me up every damn time. I used to do the exact same thing with my dolls so I heavily relate. She's just great. Also, cabbage is a delicious snack, just make sure you wash it before you eat it! Shit's dirty.

Thank you so much to my new readers! A special thanks to 4plywhenicry, Sage1992, Bird in Blue, Shiovaun, Hmmm12, Hammondc97, .d'amitie, Rinjiah, T. tenebricosa, Tika098, Transi3ntStar, creativeLunatic, lem00066, and stefaniewilliams32 for following an favoriting! I love all of y'all down to the bone~