A/N: Content Warnings: Fear, Language, Disturbing Content, Death.

"It's made of soft wood with a crepe interior. Uh, now, I...I don't know what your budget is, but over here, we...we have copper and bronze."

Jonathan wasn't really listening as the funeral arranger presented different casket options for Will. He didn't even have the strength to get angry at the obvious cash grab. Instead, he just sighed and followed the man to look at the other coffins his family would never be able to afford. Not that it mattered.

Nothing would would ever amount to the value of his baby brother.

As he approached the overly grande copper and bronze casket with the suited man, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. He looked over at the entrance to the parlor and spotted Nancy.

"Can you just give me a second?" Jonathan asked, turning and walking over to where she was standing.

"Of course," the funeral arranger replied.

The hands Jonathan quickly shoved in his pockets shook as he came closer. He really hadn't expected her to ever speak to him again. Not after the incident in the parking lot. "Hey," he greeted her quietly, frowning.

"Hey," Nancy said back, obviously nervous too. "Your mom, um...she said you'd be here. I just… can we talk for a second?" There was no point in turning her down. He couldn't afford anything but the first coffin anyway, so why bother looking at the others? He nodded and followed her out into the hall to a nearby bench. She sat down and began to rummage through her bag. "I have something I need to show you."

Jonathan wasn't sure what she could have that he needed to see, but he sat down next to her anyway. Her hand grabbed something and she turned to look him in the eyes, a very serious expression on her face. "I need you to explain what this is to me", Nancy added.

He furrowed his brow and took the photo she now held in her hand, examining it. The picture was of Barb sitting on Steve Harrington's diving board. "It's Barb..." He slowly informed her, voice betraying his confusion.

Nancy shook her head before pointing at the corner of the picture, behind where Barb sat. His eyes followed her finger and widened at what he saw.

"I mean this." Nancy tapped the photo. "What is this? Behind Barb appeared to be a mass of discoloration, almost shaped like a person. He studied the picture closely, trying his best to figure out what might have caused the strange anomaly.

"It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn't using the wide angle. I don't know." Jonathan shook his head and returned the photo back to her. "It's weird."

Nancy looked down at her lap, seemingly disappointed. "And you're sure you didn't see anyone else out there?"

Well, yeah, he saw the other people at the party. Unless she meant besides them. "No." Jonathan looked at her questioningly. "And she was there one second and then, um...gone. I figured she bolted."

When he had thought harder about that night after it had happened, he had realized how strange it was that Barb wasn't sitting on the diving board anymore. In the span of less than five seconds she had disappeared. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed right away, but he just chalked it up to nerves.

Nancy stared at the air in front of her. "The cops think that she ran away. But they don't know Barb," she sad, Jonathan watching her intently. "And I went back to Steve's...and I thought I...saw something. Some...weird man or...I don't know what it was…"

He flashed her a face of shocked concern as he suddenly registered the last part of her sentence. There was no way. He thought about what his mother had said... about the monster that she claimed came out of the wall. That it looked almost human but wasn't.

"I'm sorry. I...I shouldn't have come here today. I'm…" Nancy quickly gathered her things and stood to leave. "I'm so sorry."

Jonathan's mind was going crazy. That monster couldn't have been real. It didn't make any sense.

"Sometime's people struggle to accept the truth. Because they find it easier to accept the lie that's in front of them." The strange boy's words from earlier played again in his head.

Nancy had managed to walk a few steps when Jonathan called after her. "What'd he look like?"

"What?" She stopped and turned back to him.

"This man you saw in the woods," Jonathan clarified, stomach churning. "What'd he look like?"

"I don't...I don't know," Nancy struggled for a good explanation. "It was almost like he...he didn't have…"

"Didn't have a face?" He finished for her. He was in disbelief. His mom had been telling the truth. He felt like he was going to throw up.

Nancy stared at him, instantly alarmed. "How did you know that?"

"I think..." Jonathan replied, gulping heavily. "I think we need to talk."

At the Hideaway pub across town was where Hopper had managed to track down State Trooper O'Bannon. The pair sat together at the bar, though the trooper remained unaware of his presence. Behind them a handful of men shot pool while the other men seated at the bar watched some sports game on the television overhead.

"Aw, come on!" O'Bannon slapped the counter top, eyes focused on the TV screen.

Beside him, Hopper drained his beer in one gulp, smiling in false amusement at the man and signaling the bartender. "Another, please. And another for my uh, friend here." He took a drag from a cigarette, ignoring the surprised look on the man's face.

"Oh, thanks, man." O'Bannon turned to face him. "Appreciate it."

Hopper tapped his cigarette on the ashtray and exhaled smoke through his grin. "Yeah, that's all right. I'm, uh, I'm celebrating. My daughter, she won the spelling bee today."

"Is that right?" O'Bannon asked, disinterested, before turning his eyes back on the game.

"Yeah, that's right." Hopper nodded and took one more drag. "'Odontalgia.' That was the word. You know what it means?" The man shook his head and he explained through a chuckle. "It's a fancy name for a toothache. Yeah, she's smart. She's real smart. Don't know where she gets it from. I've been tryin' to figure that out for years."

O'Bannon stared down at the table, clearly deciding if he should entertain the small talk or not, before asking, "Your daughter, she got a name?"

Hopper blinked at the man through another cloud of cigarette smoke. "What?"

"Your daughter? What's her name?"

"Sarah," Hopper replied. "Her name's Sarah."

O'Bannon held up the fresh beer. "To Sarah," he cheered.

Hopper clinked his own glass with the bottle and the two took a drink. He set his glass down and squinted back at the man. "I recognize you. You famous or somethin'?"

O'Bannon shrugged, eyes locked on the overhead screen as he answered. "Uh, you might have seen me on TV. I, uh...I found that Byers boy."

"So, you on that case or what?"

"I just saw him on patrol, you know? Dumb luck," the trooper replied.

"So, that quarry." Hopper tapped his cigarette on the ashtray, carefully choosing his words. "That's uh...that's state-run, where they found the boy, huh?"

O'Bannon shot him a quick glance and nodded. "Yeah."

Hopper chuckled and began to fidget with the burning cigarette in his hand. "Yeah, well, that's funny. 'Cause, you know, I know for a fact that it's run by the Sattler company. Frank Sattler? Decent guy, still got a couple operational quarries up in Roane."

"Is that right?" O'Bannon responded dismissively.

"Yeah," Hopper turned and stared straight at him. "That's right. So why are you lying to me, man?"

O'Bannon looked back at the chief and placed his beer on the counter. Leaning slightly forward, he frowned at Hopper. "What's your problem, bud?"

"I don't have a problem," Hopper replied, eyes unblinking. "I'm just a concerned citizen."

"Yeah? Well, stick your nose someplace else. The kid is dead. End of story," O'Bannon growled, before standing and slapping some cash onto the counter. "Thanks for ruining the game, dick."

Hopper shook his head in disappointment and grabbed his near empty glass. Giving the trooper time to leave the pub, he slowly downed the rest of his alcohol. With a loud clang, he slammed the empty glass down and stood to follow. Catching up to the man in the alley next to the pub, Hopper shoved him into a nearby brick wall and brought his fist across O'Bannon's face. The man grunted as Hopper then hit him in the stomach. Once he was doubled over, the police chief punched his face again and pushed him back against the wall by the front of his shirt.

"Okay…Let's try this one more time." The man groaned as Hopper gripped his bloody face with his hand. "Who told you to be out there? What were you doing out there?"

When O'Bannon didn't respond, Hopper drew his fist back to punch him again "I don't know! I don't know," the man cried out. "They...they just told me to call it in and not let anybody get too close."

"Get close to what?" Hopper asked.

"The body," whispered O'Bannon.

"Who do you work for? The NSA? Hawkins lab?" O'Bannon's eyes shifted to something behind Hopper and he turned to see someone peering back at them from a black car. "Who is that?"

"You're gonna get us both killed," O'Bannon said as the car's engine roared to life.

"Who is that? Hey!" Hopper shoved the man aside and ran across the grass toward the vehicle, pulling out his gun to aim at the driver. "Hey!" The tires screeched as the car sped off. O'Bannon used the distraction to flee, leaving Hopper alone.

Lights flickered on in the AV club room. "Come on," Mike said as he led Eleven over to the Heathkit radio. She sat down in front of the table where it was stationed, Lucas and Dustin gathering behind them.

"Now what?" Dustin glanced at Lucas and Mike.

"She'll find him," Mike replied. "Right, El?" He switched on the radio so that they could hear the interference between the frequencies. Eleven closed her eyes and began to concentrate. Suddenly the radio started to switch between channels, as if searching for a signal. He watched with wide eyes. "She's doing it. She's finding him!

"This is crazy," Dustin admitted breathily.

"Calm down. She just closed her eyes-" Lucas tried to interject before, without warning, the lights above their heads flickered off. The boys simultaneously gasped at the sudden darkness.

Mike looked up at the ceiling. That hadn't happened before in his basement with the handheld.

"Holy…" Dustin started to say. A loud clanging came over the radio, and they bent closer to listen. "What is that?"

Mike gazed at the machine, his heart beginning to pound.

He found himself yet again in the house of Joyce Byers. He was at least fortunate enough to not be in class when he had fallen asleep this time, something that happened all too often. Luckily, he had also been outside, enjoying a brief respite between periods.

Loud noises echoed through the void, drowning out the sound of the water at his feet as he approached Joyce from behind. He could see her in her living room, but from another angle than before. A coffee table was in front of her, and behind her he could see a wall, a window, and the front door. He remembered that door clearly. It was the one he had opened the night he had witnessed Will get taken. His eyes traveled around the space, landing on a small device on the coffee table from which the loud noises were emitting.

Suddenly a new sound took over, a loud banging coming from the wall by the window. Joyce quickly rushed to shut off the radio before nearing the wall, trying to identify the sound. He followed close behind. As she stepped toward the surface and raised her hands, they both registered the unmistakable whimpers of a child.

"Mom?" A voice echoed.

Will's voice. Was Will on the other side of that wall?

He frowned and looked down at the floor. Normally he had always seen a whisper of Will appear in the reflection of the water. Why was it different now?

"Will?" Joyce gasped.

"Mom?" The sound was definitely coming from inside the wall. What could that mean?

"Will!" Joyce cried out, running her hands over the wallpaper. He watched her abruptly dash out the front door searching for the boy, hearing her scream Will's name again. But he knew it was futile. Will's voice was not coming from the yard. He waited for her to run back inside, which she did swiftly before screaming again. "Will!"

The boys huddled around the radio and listened to Will call out. "Mom?"

"No way!" Lucas jaw dropped and he glanced between them. Mike looked to his left, sharing a worried look with Dustin. In front of them an unmoving Eleven still sat with her eyes closed, taking no notice of the boys.

"Mom!" Will's cries filled the room again and Mike clenched his fists tight. Will sounded terrified. What had happened to their friend?

"Will, I'm here!" He tilted his head as Joyce hit the wall, trying to get to her son. "I'm here!"

How was Will inside the wall? Had he managed to get pulled to the other side? To what lies beyond the In-Between? Was that where he had been this whole time? Why he had only been seeing a whisper of the boy instead of his full form? So many new problems had arisen in the span of a few moments, but he would have to ponder them later.

He watched as the woman fumbled with the edge of the wallpaper, finally catching the corner and beginning to tear it down. When she pulled the paper away and yanked out the inner lining, some sort of translucent red barrier was revealed. A very familiar barrier. One that resembled flesh… just like the one in the lab.

"Baby…" Joyce said desperately. He noticed a shadow moving behind the barrier, one the woman noticed too.

"Mom!" Will yelled, voice closer this time. Instantly they both knew the figure in the wall was indeed her son.

"Oh, God, Will!"

"Mom!" Will wailed again, confirming that it was in fact his voice they had heard. All at once Mike and his friends began shouting through the radio, trying to reach their missing companion.

"Will! Will!"

"Will!" Lucas leaned into the microphone and hollered, "It's us, are you there?"

"Can you hear us?" Dustin shouted. "We're here!"

"Hello? Mom?"

Mike frowned. It seemed like Will couldn't hear them. But why couldn't he hear them? Lucas also had the same question on his mind, turning to Mike and asking, "Why can't he hear us?" But he was at a loss, horrified at what he was listening to.

"I don't know!" Mike admitted, skin beginning to crawl. All the while, Eleven's eyes remained shut.

"Oh, thank God! Baby...Will!" Joyce sobbed, softly hitting the barrier between her son and her.

A familiar sensation shot up his spine. The creature was close. Will was in danger. Something the woman seemed to realize too when suddenly a low growling began to erupt from within the wall.

"Mom...Mom, it's coming!" Will announced.

"Tell me where you are!" Joyce clawed hopelessly at the wall, finger sliding off of the red flesh. "How do I get to you?"

"It's like home, but it's so dark..."

Home, but dark? His mind flashed to the pool where Barbara Holland had been killed. Was that to be the fate of this boy as well?

"It's so dark and empty, and it's cold!"

Mike was trying his best not to panic, seeing the tears forming in Dustin's eyes as they listened to Will attempt to explain where he was trapped. Lucas gave them both a horrified stare.

What was happening to their friend?

Unbeknownst to the three, Eleven's nose was now bleeding.

Will continued to cry out for his mother in anguish. "Mom! Mom!"

He didn't know why, maybe he was developing sentiment for these people, but his heart started to beat like it had never beat before. He could not even imagine what Joyce must be experiencing right now. To know your child was just out of reach, and nothing you could do could save him.

Despite how much he could see that it pained her to turn Will away, Joyce leaned closer the barrier and raised her voice. "Listen to me! I swear I'm gonna get to you, okay? But right now, I need you to hide!"

"Mom, please!" Will pleaded through the strange wall.

Joyce was right. Will had to hide. If that monster found him he would die. And… he didn't want Will to die.

"No, no listen! Listen, I…" Joyce tried to explain before the growling became louder. She clawed at the wall again, yelling this time so that she could be heard. "I will find you, but you have to run now! Run! Run!"

The monster's screech consumed the In-Between.

He knew, and Joyce knew, that Will had very little time to get out of there. The material that should have been present when the woman first pulled out the inner lining of the wall seemed to be growing back over the translucent barrier. He didn't know what came over him, or why he did it, but a scream erupted from his chest.

"Run!"

And just like that… Will was gone.

"Run!" A voice Mike didn't recognize blasted out of the speakers. Suddenly sparks flew as the radio fuses burst into flames.

He and his friends recoiled away and within seconds a fire alarm went off. While he stared at the ceiling in alarm, Dustin dashed to the corner and pulled out a fire extinguisher. Removing the pin, Dustin aimed the nozzle at the radio and squeezed the handle, sweeping back and forth over the base of the flames.

That was their only chance! Mike raised his hands as if to grab at the radio. But now it was gone. In seconds the fire was smothered. The alarm continued to blare as he hurried to Eleven, spinning her chair so that she faced him.

"El," Mike asked her, seeing Dustin run from the room. "El, you okay?"

"Oh!" Lucas let out after he took a look at her too.

Eleven was slumped weakly in the chair, blood pouring from her nose. A sheen of sweat covering her now ashen face. She looked gravely ill.

"Can you move?" Mike was growing more concerned, but Eleven could only stare blankly back at him. He looked at Lucas, eyes wide. "Here, help her up."

Dustin suddenly reappeared with a empty metal cart with wheels. Mike and Lucas each grabbed one of her arms and they heaved her to her feet, carefully laying here on top of the cart. As quickly as they could, the three friends ran down their school hall. Mike ignored the fire alarm that continued to blare.

All around them students were hurrying from the building, taking the nearest exit paths. Something they needed to take a cue from, in his opinion.

Mike spotted an empty hallway and redirected the cart. "This way!" He ordered. Together he and Lucas propelled them down a student-free hall, Dustin speeding to keep up.

He watched Joyce snatch up her ax from the floor and began hacking at the wall furiously. With each strike she grunted, putting all of her fear and frustration, her anguish of not having her son safe with her, into each swing. The ax broke through the wall, but that wasn't enough. She until she produced a sizable hole from which she could see to the other side.

Joyce's face morphed in bewilderment. He knew she was only seeing her lawn. There was no Will. No cold, dark or empty place. Nothing except her front yard, and the car parked in the grass as it should be. As if what she had just seen hadn't existed. But he knew that it had, he had seen part of it.

He didn't want to be there anymore. Luckily, he was pulled back to the waking world by a ringing sound.

In the red room at Hawkins High School, Jonathan got to work on the image that Nancy had given him. She stood behind him to his right, watching silently. There was so much on his mind at that moment. Fear, disbelief, anxiety. He was afraid that something horrible had happened to Will. He was in disbelief that his mom might be right about what she believed had happened to Will. He was anxious to have Nancy standing so near to him as he worked, but also... he felt oddly comfortable.

Normally Jonathan found being around people in close quarters unpleasant, but for some reason Nancy made him feel more at ease.

"And you're…?" Nancy's voice finally cut through the silence as she leaned forward to observe him adjust the photo equipment.

"Brightening. Enlarging," Jonathan replied, staring intently at his work.

"Hmm," she sighed, backing away slightly.

This was the second time he had been here in two days and both times he had been joined by someone else. Honestly, Nancy's presence was more favorable than the mute guy.

"Did your mom say anything else?" Nancy asked. "Like, um, where it might have gone to, or…"

Jonathan bent forward to peer into the microscope above the photo and he turned a knob overhead. "No, just that it came out of the wall," he answered.

Ding!

The bell from the machine rang softly and he reached up with his left hand to switch it off. He straightened his back and sighed heavily. A moment later he slid the white sheet of photo paper into a tray of solution.

"How long does this take?"

Jonathan slowly tilted the container of fluid back and forth, attempting to fully saturate the enlargement. "Not long."

"Have you been...doing this awhile?"

"What?" Jonathan asked. Doing what a while?

"Photography."

He shrugged and focused on the developing photo. "Yeah. I guess I'd rather observe people than, you know…"

"Talk to them," Nancy finished for him.

Jonathan glanced at her and saw a small smile. "I know. It's weird." People always called him weird. His mind trailed off again to the last time he was in the room, when he had felt substantially less comfortable.

Even though he preferred Nancy's presence to that boy… somehow he had felt more understood then. Like him, the other boy was always called weird. And like him, the other boy preferred to watch rather than to act. And he wasn't sure if their reasoning for doing so was the same, but if anyone in the town could relate to him... it was the strange blond boy.

"No," Nancy shook her head politely, bringing his focus back to her.

"No, it is," Jonathan replied. He knew what being placated sounded like. "It's just, sometimes…people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment...it says more."

It had seemed to him like that strange guy could have felt that way too with the way he had looked at his photos. The way he so intently studied everything. Like he did with his camera, but the blond boy's camera was his mind.

"What was I saying?" Nancy asked.

"What?" Jonathan hadn't been paying attention again.

"When you took my picture."

He glanced away feeling ashamed and embarrassed again. The strange boy's voice played in his head once more,"… that the subjects don't know they are being captured."

"I shouldn't have taken that," Jonathan said quietly. He rubbed his palm over his mouth, hoping she'd forgive him. He turned to her and added, "I'm uh…I'm sorry." He knew it didn't make up for what he did, but he really was sorry. Sometimes he got so caught up in his own mind that he didn't stop to think about anyone else or how they might feel.

"It's just-" Jonathan didn't get to finish as Nancy cut across him and leaned over the container of solution.

"That's it," she exhaled. He peered down to see the figure of a large, faceless, human-shaped creature looking back at him. "That's what I saw."

Jonathan felt his blood run cold when he locked eyes with what he had captured. "My mom…" he gasped. It looked just as she had described. No wonder she had been horrified. "I thought she was crazy 'cause she said...that's not Will's body. That he's alive."

"And if he's alive-" Nancy looked hopefully back at him.

"Then Barbara," Jonathan nodded. He could cry in relief. There was a chance that both of their loved ones were okay. That Will might be okay.

Hopper parked his truck in front of the coroners' office. He began to climb out of the cab, grabbing his hat as he went, but then hesitated and left his hat on the dashboard. Walking briskly in the lobby, he took note of the receptionist sitting behind her desk with the phone at her ear, as if she hadn't moved since that morning.

"Hey, Patty!" Hopper greeted her.

She looked up at him, brows furrowing. "Hey, uh, need something, Chief?"

"Oh, you know, I forgot my hat," Hopper said as though he hadn't left it in the car on purpose.

"Oh."

Laughing, he held up his index finger. "I'll just be a minute."

Hopper strolled briskly down the hall and rounded the corner, slowing slightly when he saw a state trooper reading a book on the chair in front of the morgue. "Hey, I love that book. It's a nasty smut," he called out, continuing his stride. As he neared the door the trooper jumped up, the man's right hand unmistakably going to his weapon. Hopper sidled up to him, attempting to enter the room he was guarding but being blocked last minute.

"Hey, you can't be back here," the man said.

"Yeah, I just got off the line with O'Bannon," Hopper replied, nonchalant. "He said that he needs to see you at the station. It's some emergency…"

The trooper flashed him a look that suggested that wasn't the right explanation to give. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't work with O'Bannon."

"Did I say O'Bannon? I meant…" Hopper briefly tried to recover before pausing. He squinted his eyes and pursed his lips as he fumbled with an excuse. "Okay," the chief sighed. He immediately punched the guard straight in the nose, knocking him back against the door. With his other fist he struck the man hard across his temple, effectively rendering him unconscious.

Huffing with adrenaline, he reached down and retrieved the guard's keys. Checking that the hall was clear first, Hopper opened the door to the morgue and entered the room filled with steel freezer doors. He opened the top freezer, finding it empty, before proceeding to the second and finding that one occupied.He reached forward and pulled out the table, ripping back the sheet to find the cold, pale, lifeless body of Will Byers.

Hopper paced away, his hand over his mouth. He stopped by the door and took a deep breath before turning around and approaching the body again. He pulled the sheet down from Will's throat and revealed the boy's bare chest. A quick press of his hand on his chest cavity revealed his worst nightmare. After a moment he exhaled and pulled out a pocket knife. Looking down at the body, he positioned the knife directly over its navel, breathing heavily, before plunging the instrument into the soft stomach.

But the knife did not cut properly and instead he found himself dragging the knife through what appeared to be rubber. A material began to ooze from the unprofessional incision he had made. Breathing deep to quell his rage, Hopper pulled out copious amounts of stuffing from the 'body.' Looking at the kid's face again he realized the body wasn't Will at all. It was a fake.

Joyce had been right.

When he had finally made it home that evening, he was more exhausted than he had been in years. He had only managed to sleep for maybe ten minutes earlier that day before the fire alarm coming from Hawkins Middle School had woken him.

He wasn't tired from the lack of sleep, or even the 'dream-walking' as he called it. He was tired because of the emotions. He knew all about human behavior, studied it, memorized it. But knowing and understanding were two separate things. While may have known what emotions are, what they sounded like, what they looked like, he didn't understand them.

That was the problem with emotions.

You could know them with the brain, but you had to understand them with the heart. And his heart, well… The truth was he didn't know what they really felt like. Not on the inside. He only had only experienced hints of them, vicariously through others. Until recently, that was.

Ever since Will Byers had been taken by that monster, ever since he had begun actively investing into what he had seen in the In-Between, he had been experiencing a cacophony of sensations, new and old. Particularly fear. He had experienced fear on a level he had not yet felt before. True visceral fear.

He also experienced concern for another's well being too. That was particularly new. It was almost like he was… learning from the Others. Like he was being shown how to feel. Which shouldn't be possible.

That was what he had always been told anyway.

He had read once that after a panic attack, humans experienced physical symptoms. The muscles were weak. Breathing was staggered. Fatigue took hold of the body and mind. And he supposed that's what he was dealing with now. But he wasn't ready to sleep just yet. He didn't want to go back to that place again. So instead, he pulled out his sketchbook, opening to a fresh page. And he began to draw, using a set of pastels this time.

After some time had passed he observed his work. He saw the silhouette of Will Byers, expression twisted in terror, behind a pink barrier of flesh. He tore the image out, and added it to his collection, sitting it right on top of Barbara Holland's lifeless face at the bottom of Steve Harrington's pool.

A/N: I was surprised to see that this part was just as short as the previous part. And it seemed so action packed. I guess I just didn't realize how much longer the introduction part would be.

But no worries, I know for sure that the next few parts will be a bit longer, and the final parts will be a good amount longer.

In case you were concerned about it this probably 180k word story.

Until our stars next align!