If Christine lived through this, she was seriously considering trying out for cross country. She'd gotten enough training in, that was for sure, with all the aimless wandering around Hawkins. She was so tired, she wasn't even sure if she was tired anymore.

After their doomsday meeting, the party had split up to change and grab supplies. What the boys had told their mothers, she had no idea. If they'd even told them anything before sneaking out. Christine had taken the Dustin route of preparation. She just filled a backpack with a few water bottles and granola bars in case they needed to hike through dinner. Also a hammer from the garage, just in case. She'd changed into pants, made sure to wear her boots this time instead of her tennis shoes, and put on a warmer sweatshirt. Despite her best efforts, Eleven still refused to change out of her pretty pink dress.

Once they'd reconvened, they set out for Mirkwood again. They'd learned their lesson from last time. Not enough not to go, of course, but enough to go without their bikes. It would take them longer to get there, but save them time in the long run. They'd spent so much energy slipping and sliding on their last hike, untangling their wheels and handlebars from brambles. And it wasn't like they could ride their bikes through the trees anyway.

"Besides," Dustin had pointed out at Lucas's impatient groaning, "we're going to find an interdimensional portal with massive electromagnetic force. Bikes are metal, dude. Get them close enough to a magnetic wormhole and—whoosh! Bye-bye bicycle."

"Just shut the hell up and walk," Lucas had grumbled.

The two of them had taken the lead as navigators. They kept their compasses out in front of them, cross checking occasionally to make sure they were still heading in the correct direction. Mike and Eleven trailed behind them, and Christine stayed at the back, unable to contribute much after her magnet presentation.

There was less chit chat today than there had been the first time around. Christine couldn't be sure if that was because everyone was more tired or more nervous. She certainly was the latter. It was a supposed portal to another dimension—a realm of monsters and death for crying out loud. And they were armed with, what? A super-powered twelve-year-old and a hammer? She was sincerely regretting not grabbing her father's shotgun instead.

Christine wasn't sure where they were headed, or what they'd actually be able to do when they got there. For now, the only thing keeping her sane was doing a head count every sixty seconds.

One kid, two kids, three kids, four kids. One, two, three, four. One, two, three four.

From Mirkwood, they trekked through the woods, drifting deeper than they had last time. They were all on high alert, waiting for another twig to snap, for the low, growling, clicking sound to advance on them from the shadows of the trees. But nothing happened.

The trees stayed close together, until the five of them were spilling out onto a set of train tracks that wound through the forest. Christine had been dead set against it. She was not going to let them get distracted on the tracks and send five more bodies to the Hawkins Mortuary. But Dustin had assured her that the Hawkins Railway had been shut since for about fifty years. There hadn't been a train on these tracks since FDR was president. After several minutes of the boys calling her chicken, Christine had relented. Only because it was easier to walk on the tracks than through thorn bushes.

Christine had actively not worn a watch. She did not want to look down and despair about how long they'd walked without finding anything. She did not want to look down and realize it had been twenty minutes when it felt like four hours. And telling the boys it was getting late was not going to make them turn around. So what was the point?

At some point, after what felt like a very long time, Eleven stopped walking.

"Hey," Christine said, suddenly on high alert. "You okay, El?"

Eleven shook her head, but Mike sighed beside her. "She said she's tired."

"Yeah, join the club."

Christine huffed, watching Dustin and Lucas's backs grow smaller as they forged ahead. There was no stopping them. That was for sure. So she looked down on Eleven with a weary smile.

"You want a piggyback ride?"

"A…what?"

"Come on." She passed her backpack to Mike. Then she kneeled down, helping Eleven put her arms around her neck and hoisting her up onto her back. "Oof! Okay. See? I can't carry the magnetic force field of the Earth, but I can carry you."

Mike snorted next to her. "Wow. That was bad."

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it."

They started off down the tracks again. Every now and then, Christine had to hoist Eleven a little higher, making her squeal. Christine would ask if she was alright. Eleven would sniffle, wipe her face, and nod into her shoulder. It was so cold, Christine thought nothing of it.

"Hey, Chrissy?" Mike asked as they walked on. "Thanks for coming with us."

"Of course. Mike, I know how important this is. And I wouldn't want you guys out here alone."

He nodded, his eyes trained on the ground. "That was pretty cool what you did before with the magnet. It really helped that you knew that."

"I guess," said Christine. "But Dustin knew what he was talking about. I'm sure he would have gotten you guys there eventually."

"Maybe. But you also helped hide Eleven, and made us all listen when we didn't believe you about her powers. So thanks."

"Um…you're welcome," she said, unable to mask her surprise. "Thanks for…saying thanks, I guess."

Mike nodded at the dirt. It looked like he still had more to say, but being genuine was apparently very hard for him. Christine did her best not to push him.

"I'm sorry, too. I know that I keep calling you annoying, and telling you that we don't need your help. But the truth is…it's kind of nice to have someone to talk to about crazy stuff like this. You know, someone older. Someone outside of the party."

"Ouch," Christine said with a smirk. "We're hunting down a portal to another dimension and I'm still not part of the party?"

That made him smile.

"We'll discuss it. I'll let you know when the party decides."

"No rush. We're just trying to travel out of the earthly plane and into the shadow realm to rescue Will from the Demogorgon. Just let me know by Sunday so I can be ready for the next campaign."

"Remember when you first moved here?" he asked. "You were helping Nancy with some dumb English project while Lucas, Will and I were planning in the basement."

"Ugh, I do remember that project. It was on Huckleberry Finn. I hated that book. I was so glad when you guys started screaming and broke up our study session."

"We weren't screaming. It was a battle cry. We were going to war to save the Paakliah people from the wrath of their warlock overlord."

"Right," said Christine, rolling her eyes. "Well from upstairs it just sounded like a bunch of screaming. Nancy dropped everything because she thought one of you had broken a leg or something."

"You guys were pretty cool about it," Mike said appreciatively. "I really thought Nancy was gonna kick us out to the backyard, but you just picked up a tube of wrapping paper and started sword fighting with Lucas. He had no idea what to do. It was awesome!"

"Well, you can't wage a war without a pair of warlock bodyguards to duel. So you're welcome. And—God, Nancy was mortified at first. She really thought I was gonna take one look at you guys and bolt, make her do the rest of the project by herself. That feels like so long ago."

Christine chuckled at the memory. They all seemed too small, even her and Nancy. She'd still been in middle school then, the boys in elementary school. All of them had been wild and energetic, for the most part carefree. She shuddered to think how she'd swapped a tube of wrapping paper for a hammer.

"Are you still not talking to Nancy?"

"Yeah. I mean—…" The question took her off guard, and she glared at Mike affronted. "No. I'm…Why do you know that I'm not talking to Nancy?"

"I heard her talking to my mom about it," he said with a shrug. "She said you guys had a fight and she was mad at you, and then she did something stupid so you were even more mad at her. She was crying and everything. She told Mom she was really scared, and then that you guys were blaming each other for Barb going missing."

"Great. Well…just do me a favor and unhear all of that, okay?"

"It's stupid," he said, glaring at her. "You know it's not Nancy's fault if Barb's gone. And it's not yours either. If she's gone like Will is, then we can get her back."

"It's not that simple, Mike," Christine groaned. "Nancy and I have both done a lot of stupid stuff lately."

"Because you both like Steve Harrington?"

"Just shut up and walk, Mike."

"Fine. But it's dumb that you guys are fighting over some lame douchebag. There's way more important things happening. Like, life or death things. And Nancy really misses you. Plus, she's way less annoying when you're being friends. Fighting's making her cranky."

He hiked Christine's backpack up onto his shoulders and marched ahead. Christine tried to grumble her curse words quiet enough that Eleven couldn't hear, and stomped on after him.

The train tracks curved to brush along the edge of the woods, and the five of them walked out into a clearing. It was some kind of junk yard. Abandoned cars and rusty barrels were strewn across the field. Even an old transport bus sat on the edge of the hill. It would have been a killer place for parties, but there wasn't a single red Solo cup on the ground. They must have been too far out for even rebellious teens to walk.

Dustin came to a stop in front of the group, looking around in confusion. "Oh, no."

"Oh no?" Lucas repeated in annoyance. "What's oh no?"

"We're headed back home."

"What?!"

"Are you sure?" asked Mike.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Setting sun right there. We looped back around."

"Oh, for the love of God," Christine sighed. She set Eleven back on the ground, stretching her aching arms. "It's the sun, Dustin! How are we only noticing this now?"

"Well it's darker in the woods! If it's so obvious, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I've been carrying Eleven, and you two idiots said you had navigation under control!"

"Hey, don't look at me," snapped Lucas.

"What?" Dustin demanded. "Why is this all on me?"

"Because you're the compass genius!"

Dustin sighed, spinning on the spot and looking at his compass again. "What do yours say?"

"North," Lucas and Mike replied in unison.

"This makes no damn sense," Dustin groaned. "Any ideas, Chrissy?"

He passed off the compass, allowing her to look at it as well. But the needle was pointing the way they'd been headed. Without seeing the magnetic field, there was no way to tell where the interference was coming from.

"I don't know," she said, spinning it in her hands. "I mean, it could be a third magnet? Layering three magnetic fields? But we would've had to walk a perfect circle right around it."

"So it's in the woods?" Lucas asked.

"Maybe. Still, for the needle to point at neither the whole time…that wouldn't happen if they were two fixed points."

"So maybe the gate moves?" Mike suggested.

"I don't think so," said Dustin. "It's a tear in time and space. Not exactly portable."

"Okay, so…maybe something here is screwing with the compasses. You know, that's how we ended up in the junk yard."

"It's not gonna be just a bad car battery," said Christine. "To cause miles of interference like that, it'd have to be like a super magnet."

"It's not a magnet."

Lucas was glaring back at the path. Eleven was still standing exactly where Christine had put her down, avoiding all their eyes.

"Lucas, knock it off," Christine sighed.

"No! She's been acting weirder than normal! If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."

"Why would she do that?" asked Mike.

"Because she's trying to sabotage our mission. Because she's a traitor!"

"Woah, okay! Hold on, boys." Christine planted herself between Lucas and Eleven as he tried to advance on her. "Look, we're all tired. We're all desperate. Why don't we just sit down for a minute and…?"

"Will doesn't have a minute!" Lucas yelled. He tried to walk around her, only for Christine to grab his arm. It didn't stop him from snarling at Eleven. "You did it, didn't you? You don't want us to reach the gate! You don't want us to find Will!"

"Lucas, come on, seriously," Mike shouted. "Just leave her alone!"

"Admit it. Admit it!"

He broke out of Christine's grip, running at Eleven. She jumped back in terror, but not before he could grab her wrist. He held her arm up to the light. In the dying light, dark blood was shining on her jacket sleeve.

"Fresh blood," he spat, throwing her arm back at her. "I knew it!"

"Lucas, come on!" Mike pleaded.

"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!"

"Lucas, it's just cold," Christine reasoned. "We've been walking for miles…"

"No! She was using her powers, and you and Mike are too stupid to see it because you like her! You think she's cute and innocent, but all she is is a liar!"

"Bull," shouted Mike. "That's probably old blood. Right, El?"

But Eleven did not answer.

Mike squinted at her, fear rising in his voice. "Right, El?"

"It's…not…It's not safe…"

Eleven was sniffling again. But it was not because she was using her powers, and it was not because of the cold. Christine could already see the water welling in her eyes. She was moments away from bursting into tears.

"Hey, it's okay," Christine said instinctively. She dropped down next to Eleven, brushing the hair out of her face. "I know it's scary."

"See?" Lucas demanded. "She just admitted it, and all you two care about is making sure that she's okay! But what about Will? She's leading us around in circles and Will's out there running for his life!"

"And we're gonna find him!" yelled Mike. "El's just scared! We—We all are! Right, Dustin?"

Dustin, however, seemed to know better than to answer.

"It doesn't matter how scared she is," said Lucas. "She lied! What did I tell you? She's been playing us from the beginning!"

"That's not true! She helped us find Will!"

"Find Will. Find Will? Where is he then? Huh? I don't see him!"

"Yeah, you know what I mean."

"No, I actually don't. Just think about it, Mike! She could've just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn't. She just made us run around like headless chickens!"

"Alright, calm down," Dustin said, finally pushing between them.

"No!"

Lucas smacked Dustin's arm away, storming toward Eleven again. Christine immediately stepped in front of her.

"She used us!" he yelled. "All of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants! Food and a bed! She's like a stray dog!"

"HEY!" Christine shouted, but Mike was beating her to it.

"Screw you, Lucas!"

"No, screw you, Mike! You're blind—both of you! Christine's just lonely cause she's fighting with Nancy, and you're blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up!"

"I SAID HEY!"

The boys stopped as Christine rose to her feet again. And now, she was shaking with fury.

"Both of you are going to shut up right now. No one speaks, no one leaves until we all calm the fuck down. We're not gonna get anywhere throwing bullshit insults like this. We will figure out where Will is…"

"We don't have to figure it out," Lucas snapped, jabbing a finger at Eleven. "She knows where Will is. And now she's letting him die in the Upside Down."

"Lucas, I said stop."

But Lucas would not.

"For all we know, it's her fault!"

"Shut up!" Mike screamed.

"We're looking for some stupid monster, but did you ever stop to think that maybe she's the monster?"

"I said shut up!"

Mike leapt forward, grabbing Lucas around the neck and attempting to throw him to the ground. Lucas was faster, grabbing Mike in the same way and countering the throw with a harsh tug of his own. They wrestled and screamed, toppling over and still attempting to fight.

Everyone was screaming. Christine ran forward with Dustin, trying to pry them apart.

"Stop!"

"Knock it off, you idiots!"

"Boys—Mike, just stop!"

"Stop it!"

"Mike, get off!"

"Stop it!"

"Dustin! A little help, please!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Before Christine knew what was happening, Lucas was flying out of her hands. His body shot into the air. It was like he was being propelled by an invisible force strong enough to toss him like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard, sliding through the dead grass and colliding with a totaled car.

Dustin and Mike ran forward. Christine stayed where she was, too shocked to move. Then she turned around to gape at Eleven. Her nose was bleeding again, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked horrified already, the reality of what she'd done beginning to sink in. But Christine couldn't scold her. Couldn't comfort her or yell. She felt paralyzed in the grass. For the first time, she actually felt afraid.

"Why would you do that?" Mike demanded. He seemed to have figured out what had happened. He looked up from Lucas's limp body, glaring at Eleven the same way he had at the quarry. "What's wrong with you? What is wrong with you?"

"Mike…"

Eleven whimpered. It was enough for Christine to push her fear aside. She started toward Eleven, ready to…was she going to comfort her? She had no idea. But Eleven needed to calm down. If bodies started flying when she got upset, the best thing Christine could do was keep the situation under control. But then Dustin called out to her.

"Christine! Chrissy, he's—he's not getting up! W-What do we do if he doesn't get up?"

She froze, torn at Eleven's tearful face and Dustin's broken voice.

"Okay. Just—Just hold on, El." Christine held up a hand and backed toward Lucas's body. "Eleven, just breathe, okay?"

"Christine!"

She turned, and ran to Dustin's side. She slid the last few feet on her knees, despite the pain. Lucas was still lying unconscious against the car. He didn't show the slightest response to Mike's voice, or the way Dustin was shaking him. Christine had to beat his hands back.

"Stop. Stop, Dustin! If he's hurt, you could just make it worse. Just back up."

The boys followed her instructions immediately, which just proved how scared they must've been. Christine braved a straight face. She didn't want to scare them more by admitting she had no idea what she was doing.

She looked over Lucas head to toe. His limbs looked normal and he didn't appear to be bleeding, which was good. Unless all the bleeding was internal, in which case it was very bad. She stroked his hair, trying to ease him into consciousness rather than shout. Unfortunately, that wasn't working either.

"Lucas? Come on, bud. Can you hear me? Lucas?"

"Do we need to give him mouth to mouth?" Dustin asked behind her.

"What—no!"

"Fine! If you don't want to do it, I will. Move!"

"Dustin, stop! He's breathing! We just need him to wake up."

"Oh…"

Christine was ready to break out a water bottle and pour it over his head. But Lucas stirred before she could ask Mike to hand over her bag.

"Lucas? Oh thank, God."

She sagged back onto her butt, giving the boys more room to push forward.

"Lucas, you okay?" asked Mike with a relieved smile.

Lucas did not respond.

"Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up?" asked Dustin. He waved his hand in front of Lucas's face. "Lucas, how many fingers?"

Again, Lucas did not respond.

"Let me see your head," Mike offered, reaching out.

Lucas smacked his hand out of the air faster than a rattlesnake.

"Don't touch me!" He struggled to his feet, ignoring his friends' concern and shoving Mike again for good measure. "Get off me!"

He pushed his way past the group and marched toward the woods. Christine could hear the fear in his voice. She'd only seen him this upset at the quarry, when his best friend's body was right before his eyes. It was why she grabbed Mike before he could go after him.

"Mike, stop," she said softly. "Just let him go."

"But—But what if he's hurt?"

"Man, just let him go," Dustin agreed.

They watched as Lucas disappeared into the trees. Christine felt sick to do it, but running after him would only make him more upset. Lucas would be alright, she tried to convince herself. He had his compass. And she knew from personal experience how sobering rage could be. So long as nothing else bad happened…

"Where's El?"

Mike's voice echoed around the yard without response. Christine whipped around, staring at the bus, which Eleven had been standing next to less than a minute ago. Now she wasn't. Not next to the bus or the cars or the trees. She wasn't anywhere.

"Eleven!" Christine screamed, looking around at the tree line. "Eleven, it's okay!"

"El?" Mike called, and Dustin joined in. "El! Eleven! Eleven? El!"

They must've screamed for ten minutes. They checked inside every car, behind every bush, searched the forest ten feet deep in all directions. But there was no blonde wig or pink dress in sight.

Christine bit her lip hard. She'd been trying to bottle it all up, trying to be the adult. But it was exhausting.

"FUCK!"

She screamed, and it echoed around the sky. Christine kicked the closest rock, which collided with the closest wreck. The impact chipped the windshield, and Christine watched the crack spider its way across the length of the glass.

Dustin was at her side in an instant.

"We'll find her," he assured her. "Christine, we'll find El. We'll help you look."

"No." Christine felt her body shaking, but her voice was firm. "No, I want the both of you to go home right now."

"No," Mike argued. "El is out there alone! And so is Will!"

"And you're not gonna find them in the dark. You two are going home. Now. Before the sun goes down, and before your parents start asking questions. I will look for Eleven, and I will call you if I find her."

She did not give them room to argue. She seized her backpack from Mike, taking out both her hammer and a flashlight. Then she walked back into the forest, following the train tracks the way they'd came.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. She'd been so worried about Eleven and Lucas that she hadn't thought twice about marching into the woods alone. It wasn't until she'd lost sight of the junkyard, after she'd followed the train tracks and trekked back into the brush, that her personal safety occurred to her. It was getting dark. Even without leaves, the trees blocked out the fading light overhead. Unlike the boys, she didn't have a compass, and she only had a vague idea where she was going. But at a guess, she wasn't far from Mirkwood—where they'd heard the first twig snap.

The thought made her tighten her hand around her hammer.

Occasionally she'd call out for Eleven. Most times, she tried to make as little noise as possible. The darker it got, the more aware she was of the sound of the wind. Trees rustled in the breeze. Twigs snapped. A few times she thought she heard voices in the distance. She'd called for Eleven—and the sound had immediately stopped.

After she imagined someone calling her name, she decided it was safest to stop looking and find the road.

How she got there was as much a mystery as it was a miracle. But she nearly fell to the pavement with relief. She would have sprinted the last leg home if she weren't so tired. Luckily, someone else had thought ahead.

"Finally," said Dustin, perched on his bike where the wilderness gave way to the suburbs. His headlight blinded her like an interrogation lamp as she approached. "If you were gone another twenty minutes I was gonna call the cops."

"I told you to go home, Dustin."

"I did. Where do you think I got the bike?"

"And you came back here alone? To the place Will went missing? What if something had happened, Dust? Don't be an idiot."

"That's rich, coming from the girl who was just walking alone for over an hour. Now do you want a ride home or not?"

Christine was hesitant. She was a lot bigger than Eleven, and she hated to put the burden on Dustin. But he was already turning the bike around, patting his back wheel. And her legs were killing her. So she stowed the hammer and flashlight in her bag, and climbed onto the bike.

To his credit, Dustin did a better job keeping them steady than she thought he would. It was only a block or two before they were sailing smoothly. So long as he didn't brake too hard, they had it under control.

"Did you find anything?" he asked her as they cruised down the street.

"Does it look like I found anything?"

"Cranky."

"What about you? Anything at Mike's house?"

"Nah. He thought El might hide in the basement, but there's nothing there."

"Not really surprising," said Christine, and Dustin nodded. The way Mike had yelled at her, Eleven wasn't likely to look for safety in his basement. "What about Lucas? Have you heard from him?"

"No. But he's definitely home. I went passed his house and threw stuff at his window until he closed the blinds. So he's alive."

"That's a relief."

They leaned into a curve as Dustin made a sharp turn. She'd just recovered when he threw her for another loop.

"Why aren't you mad at Eleven?"

"Dustin…"

"I mean, I kind of get it. I'm still worried about her too. But she threw Lucas with her mind. That's not cool."

"I don't think she did it on purpose, Dust. El was scared, and all of us were screaming. She just wanted it to stop. I think when she gets overwhelmed, her powers probably act up."

"Like Jean Gray," Dustin supplied.

"Sure. Like Jean Gray," Christine agreed. "And then she thought we'd be mad at her, so she ran. I just hope she's okay."

"Still. Lucas had a point, you know? She lied. Will needs us, and we still don't know where the gate is. If Eleven doesn't come back, who knows if we ever will?"

"Dustin, if anyone can find that gate, I know it's you."

He shrugged his shoulders, not all that comforted by the thought. Christine gripped his jacket a little tighter, trying to think of a way to explain it.

"Think of it like this," she tried. "Say there were two sets of train tracks. On one track, one person's tied up, and on the other there are four. You can't move any of them. You can control where the train goes, but it has to follow the tracks. What do you do?"

"I don't know," Dustin said quietly. "Why can't I save them?"

"You don't have enough time. There's no wrong answer, bud. It's just a hypothetical."

"Okay, well…the one I guess. Cause you save more people."

"Alright. Now imagine the same thing, but the four people are me, Will, Mike, and Lucas. What do you do?"

"Who's on the other track?"

"You don't know. It's a stranger."

Dustin was quiet for a few blocks. "Is this a trick question? It feels like a trick question."

"It's not a trick question," said Christine. "But it's hard. That's what Eleven was trying to decide this afternoon. She wanted to protect the four friends she has, because sometimes that's scarier than losing someone you don't know."

"I guess. I didn't think about it like that."

They didn't talk for the rest of the ride. Christine let Dustin mull over the situation, and kept her eyes on the streets. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of pink hiding behind one of the houses. It was a long shot, but she felt like that was all she had for now. There was only one other place Eleven might be hiding, and Christine couldn't check there just yet.

She hopped off the bike as Dustin leveled with his driveway, allowing him to shoot up and park his bike next to the garage.

"Will you come talk to Lucas with me tomorrow?" he asked her. "You're better at explaining the metaphor than I am."

"I don't know. I think I'm just gonna stay home. In case…you know who comes back."

"But what am I supposed to say to Mike and Lucas? What if they won't talk to each other?"

"They will, Dust. They just need time to cool off. But they're best friends. If anyone can make them see reason, it's you."

"Easy for you to say," Dustin huffed, tugging on his backpack straps. "Whatever. I probably shouldn't be taking advice from you about it anyway."

"Excuse me?" Christine chuckled in surprise and folded her arms. "What does that mean?"

"It means that Lucas and Mike are fighting about Eleven just like you and Nancy are fighting over Steve."

She must have gaped at him for a solid ten seconds.

"No," she managed to squeak through the shock. "Dustin, no! That is—That is so not the same thing!"

"Um, yeah it is."

"No, it is definitely not!"

"Let's think," he said, stroking his chin. "Two really close friends get pushed apart because some cute person comes between them. One of the friends gets hurt, and gets mad cause the other friend doesn't care. How is that not the same thing?"

"Okay, well—for one—Steve didn't throw me across a junkyard with his mind."

"No. He just made you cry because he used you to get to Nancy."

Christine shut her mouth. It felt better than standing there with her jaw dropped as she stared at her miniscule fetus of a neighbor, standing there so sure and so confident and so…right. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Just go inside, Dustin."

She tried to walk back to her house, only for Dustin to grab her hand.

"Hey," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about what Lucas said too. About you being lonely and obsessing over Eleven. That was dumb. But if Lucas and Mike are gonna make up, I think you and Nancy should try too. It's easier when everyone's being friends."

"I know it's easier," she said wearily. "It's just not easy to make them that way."

"Okay." Dustin nodded, playing with his backpack again. "Do you wanna stay over? I can ask mom to drive us to the video store."

And just like that, he drew another smile out of her.

"Nah, not tonight, Dusty. Like I said. I'm gonna stay home to be safe."

"Alright. If you need anything…"

"You'll be the first to know," Christine assured him. She rubbed his cap on top of his curls. "Get going. Your mom's probably gonna kill you."

Dustin scurried inside at her suggestion. The front door slammed behind him, but Christine could still hear Claudia's worried shouts. She smiled, backing off the lawn and sneaking around to her own back door.

It was locked. Not that that meant anything. Christine knocked halfheartedly—two slow, then three quick. There was no response. She tried again, just in case, but got the same result. After a few minutes of waiting, she grabbed her spare key and let herself in.

Everything was exactly where she'd left it. Her unmade bed, the empty pillow fort, the abandoned waffle plates and ruined magazine. The stereo was off, and though she checked her freezer, there were still the same amount of Eggos.

"Eleven?" she called hopelessly. "If you're here, you…you can come out. I'm not mad. No one is. It's okay."

She continued to stand in the dark, knowing she wouldn't get a response.

At some point, her exhaustion must have caught up to her. She didn't bother making dinner. She didn't even bother turning on the lights. She just changed into her pajamas and grabbed her dwindling box of Cheerios. However, she hesitated at the back door.

Habit told her to lock it. She was a teenage girl home alone in a town where two people were missing, mysterious scientists were hunting children, and interdimensional horrors were running loose. But a lock wouldn't stop a mad scientist, and it wouldn't stop a Demogorgon. The only people it might stop were the boys, or a scared little girl looking for a place to sleep after running away.

Christine dropped the cereal in her room. In the kitchen, she popped one waffle in the toaster, then placed it on a plate. She left it on the back stoop, looking longingly at the shadows outside. The waffle would get cold fast, she knew. But it wasn't about whether or not Eleven would eat it. She just wanted to send a sign. It was still safe inside. It was okay to come home.

Without much debate, she left the porch light on. And when she went to bed, she left the door unlocked.