Getting to the middle school was no easy feat. Jonathan's car only held five people, and while the chief's car was bigger, there were still only five seats. Much to Hopper's annoyance, the kids were still refusing to split up, and Christine wouldn't let them out of her sight. Eventually, Jonathan had to surrender his keys to her again so they could all ride together. He stayed behind with Nancy to help Hopper and Mrs. Byers load the old kiddy pool into the back of the truck.

The kids all resumed their same spots in the car. The boys sat in the back, reviewing the notes Christine had taken down from Mr. Clarke and discussing their supplies. Hopper was bringing the pool. To fill it, they'd need hoses from the groundskeeper's storeroom. They figured the best place to set up would be the gymnasium. They'd have enough room to set up, and they could use the taps from the locker rooms. The salt they would get from storage out back, where Hopper knew they stored the road salt for the parking lot. After that, it was just a matter of keeping things quiet and dark enough for Eleven to do her thing.

Eleven was not speaking. She'd just been sitting anxiously in the passenger seat, rubbing her hands up and down her legs. Christine had put on some music to soothe her, and reached over to take her hand again.

She was trying not to show it, but she was just as scared as Eleven was. She'd seen the strain Eleven's power put on her. Hopefully the pool would help stretch her abilities a bit farther, but there was still a pretty high risk. Christine didn't want to see Eleven ashen and bleeding again, passing out from the strain of projecting herself into an alternate dimension. But Eleven was the only shot they had.

The rest of Christine's fears were about answers. She didn't know what she'd do if they didn't like the ones they got. What if Eleven couldn't find Barb and Will? Because Jonathan had been right. If the Upside Down was a mirror of their universe, they had the whole world to hide. What if they weren't even in alternate Hawkins anymore? Just how much could Eleven's powers take before they gave out? Or worse, what if they were too late? What if Will really was gone? Or Barb, or both of them?

Christine shook her head, and squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it. For now, they had to focus on the isolation tank. One thing at a time.

It was eerie to drive through the school's empty parking lot. Christine drove the car around back and parked by the gym. She hopped out first, striding to the doors and giving them a solid tug. All she managed to do was hurt her shoulder. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to her that the school might be locked on a Saturday night.

"Shit."

"What's shit?" asked Dustin, stretching as he exited the car.

"It's locked," Christine complained. "And watch your language."

"What happened to 'I'm not your mother' and 'you can curse as much as you want'?"

"I changed my mind. Just get back in the car. We'll check out the front, or…I don't know. A window."

She'd made it halfway to the car when the door swung open behind her. Christine jumped, whirling around. It took a second for her brain to catch up. When it did, she frowned at Eleven, who was surreptitiously wiping her nose.

"You, just…stop that. Save your energy."

"You're just mad cause she scared you," snickered Mike, and he led the way into the building.

The chief's truck pulled up a few minutes later, and Hopper gave them their marching orders. He and Jonathan would take care of the salt. The Wheelers would handle the hoses, while Dustin and Lucas did their best to set up the pool. Hopper had tried to stick Mrs. Byers with them to supervise, but she'd made her own adamant case. She was going with Christine to prep Eleven. That was final.

That was how Christine ended up walking through the science wing of Hawkins Middle with Joyce Byers, a quiet Eleven walking between them. Christine had expected there to be some sort of interrogation. Mrs. Byers probably had a thousand questions for the psychic kid who'd tracked down her son. But she was quiet for most of the walk, and when she finally did pipe up, it was to Christine.

"I remember you, you know," she said. "After you said that thing about Will liking colors, I started to remember. You were there when I took him to see Poltergeist. Hid a bag of M&M's in the bottom of his popcorn. He really loved it. I never got to thank you."

Christine gave her a tight smile. It was an embarrassing thing for someone to remember. She had no idea what to say in response. Thankfully, Mrs. Byers let her off the hook.

"Do you still work at The Hawk?"

"Yeah," Christine said with relief. "It's not bad. I wish we had more movies, but we're getting a new one next week. And I get to see all the new stuff when it comes out."

"That's nice," she said lightly. It was the obligatory response before her next question. "I don't suppose you know anything about…you know. The fight Jonathan was in."

"Oh, uh…you should probably just ask him about that."

Mrs. Byers nodded. It didn't seem like she'd expected anything different. There was a part of Christine that was screaming for her to bring up the photographs Jonathan had taken, but she did her best to quiet it. Now was not the right time to be a tattle tale. They'd come back around to that disturbing detail later, she was sure.

"I hope you didn't do too much damage."

"Sorry?" Christine asked.

Mrs. Byers pointed knowingly down at her hand, the one that was holding Eleven's. The bruises were still visible through El's fingers. Christine gasped.

"Oh! No, that—that wasn't Jonathan! I was fighting this asshole named Tommy. It was…it was a big thing."

"And this thing…had nothing to do with Jonathan's fight?"

"Well…like I said. I think you should talk to him."

"Right." Mrs. Byers bobbed her head. "Can I ask what he said? This other boy?"

"He just…He said some not great things about Nancy. But I guess I can't talk. I've said some not great things about her too."

Christine grimaced, her own poor words resurfacing in her brain. But to her surprise, Mrs. Byers just nodded sagely.

"Friendship can be weird like that. Especially in high school. Everyone says things they don't mean. Sometimes you need the drama to remind you how important your friends are. Sometimes it's classes and boys, and…sometimes, it's uh—it's science fiction monsters."

"Both, actually," Christine said with a snort.

They finally found a lab room that would have what they needed. Christine flicked on the lights, urging Eleven into a desk so she could look for the safety goggles she wanted. Mrs. Byers hung back by the door, wringing her hands.

"So, how can I help? What else do you need? Should we find you some different clothes? Maybe something a little lighter than your dress?"

"Good luck with that," Christine laughed as she was going through the cabinets.

"Oh, I'm sure we could find something around here. A big T-shirt, or…"

"No, I mean getting her to change. I've been trying for a few days now. But she loves that dress and she will not take it off."

"Well, I can see why," Mrs. Byers said kindly. "You look very pretty in it."

Eleven muttered her thanks, and Mrs. Byers turned back to Christine.

"Was it yours?"

"Ha, uh no. Nancy's. I left the boys alone for one afternoon and they took her back to the Wheelers' to give her a makeover. She got the new dress, new tube socks, makeup. Even a blonde wig."

"I'm sure that looked beautiful. And it probably only made you look even more like sisters."

Christine stilled with the goggles in her hands. "Really?"

"Oh, definitely," said Mrs. Byers. "It's a little bit the face—you both have those big, pretty brown eyes. But mostly…it's just the way you are with each other. Jonathan's the same way with Will. Protective, encouraging. I'd know it anywhere. You girls must be very close."

It was a simple observation, but Christine couldn't help but take it as a compliment. She had a feeling that was how Mrs. Byers had intended it. She still had that warm, knowing smile. The farthest thing from the crazed, delusional woman Christine had feared she might be. Maybe it was the situation, but she just seemed like a really good mom.

"I guess we are," said Christine, smiling slightly.

She could feel Eleven's eyes on her, one of her intense, probing gazes that burned the skin.

Christine bashfully passed the goggles to Mrs. Byers.

"Uh, here. I'm…I'm gonna see if I can find some duct tape to black them out."

They did the best they could with the goggles. Christine found some duct tape in the emergency station, and cut long strips so Mrs. Byers could stick them on. They weren't especially stylish, but they were dark enough, and they'd keep the water out.

"There we go," Mrs. Byers said to herself as she smoothed out the last strip. She held them up for Eleven to see. "This will keep it dark for you. Just like in your bathtub."

Eleven nodded. She'd grown quiet again, her nerves more evident on her face as their to do list got shorter and shorter. It was clear whatever "the bathtub" meant to her, it wasn't good. She wasn't looking forward to doing it again.

Christine wished there was something she could do to stop it. But Eleven knew she was their only hope. It was why she wasn't putting up a fight. The only thing Christine could do was pick her nails, and keep the depths of her concerns to herself.

Mrs. Byers let out a deep sigh.

"You're a very brave girl," she told Eleven. "You know that, don't you? Everything you're doing for my boy…for Will…for—for my family…thank you."

Eleven smiled meekly, much like Christine had earlier. She wasn't used to being thanked.

And much like earlier, Mrs. Byers didn't seem to need a response. She took Eleven's hands in her own and continued to encourage her earnestly.

"Listen. Christine and I are going to be there with you the whole time. And if it ever gets too scary, in that—in that place…you just let us know, okay?"

Eleven looked between the two of them, nodding. "Yes."

"Ready?"

And after an extra moment of trembling breath, Eleven nodded again. "Ready."

As they walked back to the group, Eleven stood between them again. Her left hand was wrapped around Christine's, and her right stayed firmly in Mrs. Byers'.

Everyone had already reconvened by the time they reached the gymnasium. Hopper and Jonathan were pouring salt into the water, Nancy and Lucas standing by with rakes to push it around and help it dissolve.

"You know," Christine called, "it might've been easier to use hot water to dissolve the salt, and then just wait until it cooled to the right temperature."

"Shut up, Chrissy," Dustin snapped. "Next time, I'll use the duct tape and you can build the sensory deprivation tank."

"We might actually have to do that, you know. Doubt Mr. Clarke is gonna get off my back about the science fair."

"We've almost got it," said Mike, staring down at the water. "I feel good about it this time, Dustin."

They all watched as the salt swirled around the bottom of the pool, slowly growing smaller and smaller and—finally—disappearing. Dustin grabbed a half-carton of eggs off the supply cart. He held his breath and placed the egg into the water. It bobbed for a moment, then settled gently on the surface. It was truly, properly floating.

Mike slapped Dustin on the arm in shock, while Lucas clapped him on the back. Christine beamed with pride, stepping up behind him and rubbing his hat over his curls.

"Nice job, boy genius," she congratulated.

The joy of victory was short lived. Now that they had a working bathtub, all that remained was to put Eleven in it. Hopper left to douse the lights, while Mike and Lucas turned up the volume on Will's supercomm. Christine and Joyce helped steady Eleven as she stepped out of her socks and shoes. She reluctantly handed Mike his watch. And once she was ready, she put on her goggles and stepped out into the water.

Everyone gathered around the pool to watch. They were spread around the edge, all staring into the center. In the semi-dark, it felt like some sort of séance. Christine held her breath, and tried to ignore the hairs on the back of her neck that were screaming that something was wrong.

Mrs. Byers reached over and patted Christine on the knee.

Eleven worked faster this time. The dim lights of the gym flickered overhead after scarcely a minute, and the interference from the walkie had already reached an eerie hum. She floated with arms stretched out toward the sides, her mouth agape, head twitching back and forth as if she were trying to read something very large very fast. The only sound in the room was the rippling of the water and Eleven's shaking breath. Everyone else was paralyzed to the core.

"Barb? Barbara?"

Nancy gasped and grabbed Christine's hand. Christine squeezed reassuringly, turning her gaze to the walkie. She just wanted to hear Barb's voice. They'd tried twice and failed, but this was number three. That was the charm. Now she'd be able to hear her.

But the walkie stayed silent.

Eleven's breathing picked up. The water rippled around her even though she wasn't actually moving. Overhead, the gym lights flickered again, then snapped off abruptly.

"What's happening?" Nancy asked nervously.

Mike shook his head. "I don't know."

"Is Barb okay? Is she okay?"

Christine felt the nausea rising in her throat. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, staring down the supercomm, willing it to speak. She knew her grip on Nancy's hand was throttling, but she could not escape the swelling fear in her chest. Barb was coming. She was going to hear Barb's voice. Barb was…

"Gone."

Eleven's voice broke as she choked out the word. She said it again, and again, her head jerking back and forth. The walkie was practically screaming on the supply cart. A wave shot up from the center of the pool, slapping violently against the sides.

"Gone. Gone. Gone."

It was all Christine could do not to vault herself into the pool. Out of grief, or concern, either one. Nancy had already beaten her to crying, one hand clapped over her mouth and squeezing her sobs back inside. Eleven was beginning to thrash in the water—screaming, terrified—but Christine was scared to touch her in her trance. She felt trapped inside herself, just like Eleven.

"It's okay," Mrs. Byers whispered, leaning over the water to grab one of Eleven's arms. "It's okay. Christine? It's okay."

With a start, Christine realized Mrs. Byers' other hand was on her own. She gently squeezed her wrist, pulling her hand out over the water. It was a moment before Christine caught on. When her shock finally faded away, she choked back her tears and grabbed the small hand that was reaching out for her.

"I'm right here, El. It's okay. There's nothing you can do. Just breathe. It's okay. We've got you."

Mrs. Byers echoed her reassurances on Eleven's other side. Slowly but surely, Eleven's breathing began to steady. She clung to their hands like lifelines, her lips still trembling. The water stilled around her. The radio resumed its normal hum, and the lights went dark once more. Mrs. Byers retracted her hand cautiously, but Christine left hers securely in Eleven's grip.

"Castle Byers…?"

Jonathan and his mother both froze as Eleven tested the words in the air. Christine grit her teeth and said a silent prayer. God, they could not go through that again. He had to be okay. Will had to be okay…

It took a couple seconds, but Eleven finally spoke again.

"Will. Will?"

Mrs. Byers shuddered a gasp. She gripped Eleven's arm tighter, not needing any more information.

"You tell him—tell him I'm coming," she pleaded. "Mom is coming."

Eleven repeated the words into the air. On the cart, the radio crackled to life.

"Hurry…"

Christine could have collapsed over from the relief that went through her bones. He was still alive. If nothing else, Will was still alive. They had time.

"Okay, listen," Mrs. Byers was instructing, leaning out over the pool. "You tell him to—to stay where he is. We're coming. We're coming, okay? We're coming, honey."

Again, Eleven repeated the words. She said Will's name, waiting for him, asking for some kind of response. But something was wrong. The static on the supercomm was distorting again. It squealed, and though Eleven wasn't crying in the pool, they could hear her sobs and screams floating through from the other world. The water in the pool was starting to shake again. Everyone exchanged a terrified look.

And then Christine heard the familiar clicking over the radio.

"Eleven, come back," she ordered. "Eleven, get out of there now!"

There was a colossal splash as Eleven sprang up from the pool. She ripped her goggles off, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf. Christine wasted no time in tugging her close, wrapping her arms around her and tucking her head underneath her chin.

"It's okay, El. I've got you. You're okay. You did good. You did so good."

Eleven gripped tight to her arm, crying into the stiff, white fabric of her sleeves. A comforting hand stroke Christine's back, reached around and held Eleven as well. Christine didn't need to look up to know it was Joyce.

"Hop…" she whispered.

"Yeah, I got it," he said, without needed to hear the rest of the plea.

There was a shuffle around the pool as everyone got up. Hopper left again to find the lights, the kids all converging on the other side of the pool to watch Eleven warily. Jonathan hovered behind his mom, too worried to interrupt but probably too relieved about his brother to stray far from her.

Nancy stood and walked away. The door to the gym swung shut behind her, echoing ominously around the gymnasium. Christine knew she should go after her. But she also knew Nancy needed space. And Eleven needed to be okay first.

"Come on," Christine coaxed, helping her to her feet. "Let's get you dried off."

She and Mrs. Byers did the best they could wring out the fabric of Eleven's dress. Mike brought over one of the towels, but seemed to sense that it wasn't time to talk yet. He handed it to Eleven with a bracing smile, letting his hand trail over hers. Then he retreated to the other side of the pool to stand with Lucas and Dustin.

Mrs. Byers was looking back towards Jonathan.

"Go," Christine offered with a nod.

"Oh…no, it's…"

"It's okay," Christine said firmly. "I've got her."

The woman nodded, patting Eleven's back one last time. Then she hurried over to her eldest son and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. It hurt Christine to watch. She was relieved, happy for them. But she couldn't help but think how Barb's parents would never get the same privilege.

Christine eased Eleven down onto the bleacher, and wrapped the towel tighter around her shoulders. After she was settled, Christine started shedding her work uniform.

"I hate this thing," she babbled as she tossed the clip on bowtie onto the seat. "It's so uncomfortable. I don't know why we need to wear uniforms to look presentable anyway. It's not like people don't know I work there. I'm the one behind the counter, right?"

She shed the dripping button down and dropped it onto the gym floor. She shivered in the black tank top. It was cold in the gym. But there wasn't time to linger on it.

"I'm sorry," Eleven whispered.

Christine looked down at her sadly. Eleven wouldn't look up. Her eyes were fixed on the bowtie, which she'd picked up and began twirling in her hands. Still, Christine knew she wasn't apologizing for the uniform.

"It's not your fault," Christine reminded her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Barb was…it was an accident. There's nothing you could have done. There's probably nothing any of us could have done. But I know that doesn't stop it from hurting, or being scary."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." Christine ran a hand over her head, then slipped out of her seat. She kneeled on the floor in front of Eleven, forcing the girl to meet her gaze. "Hey. If it wasn't for you, we never would have known what happened to Barb. You gave us the truth. And sometimes that's all you can ask for."

It was hard, but Christine tried to smile. She closed Eleven's hands over the bowtie and rubbed the skin reassuringly. Eleven watched her fingers intently.

"Joyce said…like sisters."

"Yeah. Yeah, she did." Christine laughed weakly, and ran a thumb over the back of Eleven's wrist. "You remember when I showed you that picture of me and Dustin? And I said he was like my annoying little brother? It's like that. Sometimes, when we spend a lot of time with people, they become like your family. And that's great, because you can be super close, closer than friends, and it's the family you choose for yourself. So it's not about who your parents are. It's just about who you care about, and who your family is here."

Christine laid a hand over her chest, tapping on her heart. Eleven squinted at her. Uncertainly, she raised a hand to copy her.

"So…sisters?"

Christine but her lip, unsure if she was trying to hide her smile or her tears.

"Yeah. Sisters. Definitely."

"Alright, break it up!" Dustin pushed past Christine, plopping down next to Eleven so he could throw his arms around her as well. "She's our friend, too."

"Are you okay?" Mike asked, sitting on her other side. "That looked really scary."

"Okay," Eleven confirmed with a nod.

"Are you okay, Chrissy?" asked Lucas.

"Me? Yeah, I'm—I'm fine." The boys shared a dubious look, which did not make Christine feel self-conscious in the slightest. She braved another smile, rubbing Lucas on the shoulder. "Seriously, guys. I'm fine."

"Y-Yeah," he said, grinning widely. "We just wanted to...you know. Make sure."

Dustin made a loud coughing sound, which sounded suspiciously like the word "whipped." Lucas reached around Eleven's back and smacked him on the head. Mike hit Lucas in the chest, then fixed Christine with a solemn gaze.

"We're sorry about Barb," he said softly. "Really."

Everyone stilled, which made it harder to keep her voice level when she replied.

"Yeah. Me too." Christine cleared her throat and climbed to her feet. "Speaking of, I'm gonna go check on Nancy. Keep an eye on these idiots for me, okay, El? You're in charge."

The boys grumbled, and Eleven gave her a proud nod. "Okay."

Christine grinned. She pressed a quick kiss to the top of Eleven's head, then crossed the gym so she could step out into the hallway.

In a lot of ways, Hawkins High School and Hawkins Middle School were mirrors of each other. They had the same departments in the same places, the same number of students. They even had the same ugly tiger mural on the wall outside the gymnasium. Nancy sat underneath it, her back pressed to the wall and her face hidden in her knees. Even if the hall hadn't been so quiet, her shaking shoulders showed she was crying from a mile away.

Christine closed the door to the gym as quietly as she could. Then she walked over to the mural and nudged Nancy with the toe of her boot.

Nancy jumped, and scrambled to wipe the tears from her face. "Sorry, I'm—oh. Christine."

"Just me," she said, holding her hands up in the air. She pressed her back to the tiger, and slid down next to Nancy. "Don't stop crying on my account. I was kinda planning on catching up."

"No, I'm sorry. God, I—I know I'm being stupid, it's just..."

"Woah, hey." Christine gaped at her, and nudged her knee firmly. "Nothing about this is stupid. I mean this is...this is Barb we're talking about..."

"I know, but there's so much more going on." Nancy ran her hands over her head, forcing her flyaway hairs back into her orderly ponytail. "With Eleven and Will and...I mean, look at you. You're not crying."

"Don't say it like that," Christine groaned. "I feel bad enough as it is."

"Don't. Seriously, Chris. You're probably just in shock."

"But that's the awful thing. I feel like...I'm just not. Part of me feels like I knew the whole time, you know? The minute you told me you hadn't heard from her. And then I feel like shit because it's like...it's like I'd already given up on her."

"You did not give up on her," Nancy said vehemently. "None of us did. If we had, none of us would be here, right? And now...now we have a chance to save Will."

She nodded adamantly, more to herself than anything. Christine could practically see her brain resetting, working hard to stay focused and keep from shutting down. Barb was gone. But they weren't out of the woods yet.

The doors to the gym slammed open again. Hopper burst through, blowing right past them and out the second set of doors to the parking lot. Jonathan and his mother were hot on his heels. They struggled with the second door as it threatened to shut them in, then followed Hopper outside. Everyone was fighting—and not quietly. Not that it was a secret what the fight was about, anyway. Hopper was attempting to save the day solo. Mrs. Byers wasn't about to let him. Nancy and Christine could hear crystal clear as she went off on him, reminding him that Will was her son and that nothing on heaven or earth would stop her from going after him. Jonathan's voice chimed in, saying that he could come, that he could help. But things must not have gone his way.

They listened as the chief's truck sped away from the school. Then the doors opened one more time, and Jonathan trudged back inside. He joined them wordlessly. With his back pressed to the wall, he slid down on the other side of Nancy. And then they sat in silence.

"What's Castle Byers?" Christine finally asked.

"His clubhouse," Jonathan answered weakly. "We built it together, in the woods out back. So he'd have someplace to hide when Mom and Dad were fighting."

"Far?"

"Not from here. But they have to go through the lab and then walk, so…"

Neither of them finished the thought. Christine knew from personal experience how long it took to hike around Hawkins to the Byers' house. Hopper and Mrs. Byers would have a long trek ahead of them. And that was if they could make it through the guards at Hawkins Laboratory. If Will had told them to hurry, how much time did they really have?

"We need to go back to the station."

Christine and Jonathan both turned to Nancy in surprise. She was staring a hole at the tiles in front of her. Her eyes were shining, but completely focused.

"What?" asked Jonathan.

"Your mom and Hopper are just walking in there like bait. That thing is still in there. And we can't just sit here and let it get them too."

"Nancy," Christine said lowly. "We're not exactly…"

"We can't." Nancy turned to her, completely resolute. "We can't give up, right? We have to keep fighting, we…we have to do something."

"But do what?"

"You still want to try it out?" Jonathan asked Nancy.

"I wanna finish what we started," she replied. "I want to kill it."

She and Jonathan nodded at each other. They both looked determined, their jaws set and their hands curled into fists on their knees. But Christine was still tripping a couple steps behind.

"Wait," she said, glancing between them. "That's what all the shit in the box was for? You're gonna try and hunt it down?"

"We're gonna trap it," said Jonathan. "And then, yeah. We're gonna kill it."

"What did you think we were doing?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know! Booby trapping the house for protection?"

"We are," she said plainly. "And then we're gonna try and summon it."

"S-Summon…? Nance, I know I joked it was a demon, but…"

"No, I mean like—call it. We think it can sense blood. Track it. That's how it found Barb."

"And how it followed Will," Jonathan agreed. "After he fell off his bike."

"So we go to Jonathan's house, set up the traps, and lure it in. The lights are already set up, and that way we'll know it's coming."

"Guys, this is insane," Christine pleaded. "This thing is—it's huge! And it's dangerous, and…"

"I know exactly what it is."

Christine faltered. Of course Nancy knew what the Demogorgon was. She'd seen it, already gotten trapped once, gone up against it once. It just made trying again seem all the more crazy.

"Nance," she begged, turning to face her fully. "Don't…Don't do this. We just lost Barb, and…if anything happened to you…"

Nancy nodded in understanding. She took Christine's hand and squeezed it hard, just as imploring.

"That's exactly why I have to. We can't let it kill anyone else. Not Will, or Hopper, or Mrs. Byers."

They stared each other down. They fought silently through their hands, each trying to squeeze the other one into agreeing with them. Christine thought she was pretty strong. But in the end, she was the one who deflated.

"Barb would kill us for doing something this stupid, you know."

"Probably," Nancy said with a watery smile. "But she'd come with us anyway."

"Us?" asked Jonathan.

"Of course 'us,'" Christine scoffed. "You don't think I'm gonna let you two get yourselves killed alone, do you?"

"But what about the kids?"

That did make Christine pause. She didn't want to leave the kids behind. But she couldn't let Nancy go up against the Demogorgon with only Byers for backup. That was more dangerous than waiting at the school. Even if Eleven did have government scientists looking for her, the kids were smart. They knew how to keep their heads down avoid detection. They'd done alright for the last week, hadn't they?

…but what if that luck ran out?

"We divide and conquer," Nancy said, squeezing her hand again. "The lab will be busy enough dealing with Hopper and Mrs. Byers. We keep the monster busy, and it all keeps everything away from Eleven. The kids will be fine."

Christine nodded, trying to convince herself. The kids would be fine. They knew the score, and knew the dangers. Plus, they had Eleven. It would be okay.

"Okay," she said shakily. "Let's do this."

They all got to their feet, shaking out the trembling in their hands.

"Your dad still have that shotgun in the garage?" Nancy asked smile, and Christine nodded. "Good. So we'll go to the station, pick up our stuff, and then swing by your house to pick up yours."

"What about the lab guys?" Jonathan asked. "They were swarming her house before."

"They must've cleared it by now though, right?"

"I guess. But what if they're watching it?"

"I don't know. We'll just have to…"

Jonathan and Nancy continued to bicker on, picking apart the plan and trying to find the best way to proceed. But Christine was having a hard time focusing.

She drifted over to the doors of the gymnasium, peeking inside just as she had during the assembly. There were the kids, alone on the bleachers. Eleven was wrapped in her towel, leaning heavily on Mike's shoulder. Lucas sat behind her, rubbing her back comfortingly as he talked to Dustin on Mike's other side. They looked so small. It almost snapped her resolution clean in two.

Almost as if she'd sensed it, Eleven looked up and caught her eye. She smiled. It was small, and it was sad. Just like every other time she'd stared at Christine, it gave off the sense that she'd analyzed everything around her. Like she knew everything about Christine from her favorite color to the conversation she'd just been having in the hall.

Eleven lifted a hand, and tapped her heart.

After a long night of holding it back, Christine felt her tears beginning to escape over her cheeks. She forced her face into one more smile, and tapped her own heart too. With Eleven's permission, she turned away and followed Nancy and Jonathan out the door.