Summary: Post season 3, Stranger Things multi-chapter that picks up where season 3 left off. The In-Between addresses questions left unanswered, fills in the gaps, and explores new potential conflicts and character dynamics. Features some heavy concentration on mileven, but there's something here for everyone. Let's all cry together as we wait for season 4!


Summary says it all! However, it is worth mentioning that anything in italics indicates either a flashback or a recollection of past events. This particular chapter has kind of a lot of that.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stranger Things, or any of the show's characters.

Second Disclaimer: I know Hopper isn't really dead. We'll get there. Don't come at me lol.

This is so much fun to write. Please enjoy and review for more!


The In-Between

Chapter 1 - Living in a Nightmare & Wishing for a Daydream

The air was cool through the cracked window, and the warmth of the sun shining down through the glass was a welcome embrace in the aftermath of a long night.

It was an indescribable feeling, having the lines between dreams and reality become blurred. The good feelings, the happy feelings, they mixed together with the bad ones. The sweet moments were laced with sorrow and grief, and much of it was still present upon waking.

She was affronted with the heaviness that falls upon the heart when a moment of peace arises out of the ashes of so much pain.

Her limbs had turned to lead, time felt slowly passing, and there was a stillness to the day that allured her to the idea of closing her eyes again. She was comfortable, despite the ache in her chest.

She wasn't sure how many minutes had passed before she heard a gentle knock on her open door.

"Hey, sweetie." Joyce's voice was smooth and lulling as though she were trying not to disrupt the soft spell that the quietness was casting over the room. "You don't have to get up, I just need to run out to the store for some real food, but there's some cereal and granola bars in the kitchen if you want anything for breakfast. There's just, no milk for the cereal."

El managed a half-smile.

"Okay." Her voice was hoarse, but it sounded loud in her ears.

"Will's still waking up, but Jonathan is outside getting some more boxes from the truck. I shouldn't be gone too long, and then I'll make you guys some lunch."

She nodded, still trying to shake herself from her dreamlike state.

Joyce smiled and turned to leave.

The front door closed, and the desire to fall back to sleep tempted her, but as her eyelids began to flutter shut, a memory played out in her head.


"Rise and shine. Breakfast."

Her eyes opened, but she continued to lay still.

"Not hungry."

"Yeah? Maybe that's because you ate half a box of Eggos before I got home last night after I told you don't do that."

"You said dinner first. I ate dinner. Then dessert. That's the rule."

He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah alright well let's add onto that rule. One eggo limit after dinner. Understand?"

She sighed. "Understand."

"Good now get up and come sit at the table."

"Not. Hungry."

"I didn't say come eat, kid, I said come sit at the table."

"Why?"

"Look, I'm not gonna force you to eat if you're not hungry, but I am gonna make you stick to a routine."

"Routine?"

"Routine. R-O-U-T-I-N-E. Now come sit at the T-A-B-L-E."

She huffed and stood up out of bed dramatically.

He spoke to her again as she stared down uninterestedly at her plate of scrambled eggs.

"Routine. It's…continuing to do the things you should do every day. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Eat three meals that aren't gonna give you diabetes. Go to bed at a decent hour. It's important. Keeps you from going crazy."

She thought for a moment. "Do you have a routine?"

The question was justified. But it stung when it threatened to remind him that most of his routine for the past few many years had been one which was dense with self-destruction.

"I didn't used to, kid." She looked up at him and their eyes locked. "But I do now."

It was with those words that she understood that her being there now played a role in his life.

She picked up a bite of egg with her fork and Hopper raised an eyebrow at her.

"Kind of hungry." She said.


"Rise and shine." El said to herself out loud.

She swung her legs over the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Her tired and puffy eyes gaped back at her in the mirror. She splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth, and smoothed out her hair with her fingers.

As she sat down in the kitchen to a bowl full of dry cereal, Jonathan stumbled inside carrying two large boxes in his arms. He kicked the door closed behind him as he hurried to set them down on the living room floor alongside several others.

With a sigh of exhaustion, he stood and ambled his way into the kitchen, filling a glass with water from the sink before dropping onto a chair across the table from El.

"Did you need any help?" She asked him with wide eyes as she watched a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. He laughed inwardly at her expression.

"I look that bad, hu?" He jested.

She suppressed a smile. "No, just tired."

He could agree to that. "I could say the same thing to you." He said somewhat concernedly. "Did you sleep okay?"

She curled her lip a bit. "Not really. I...kept having dreams."

Jonathan nodded. "Bad ones?"

"Bad...and good."

"Oh, well, good ones are okay though, right?"

"Not once you wake up." She said, pushing her cereal around in her bowl.

Jonathan seemed to understand.

"I dreamed about Nancy last night." He told her.

"Good dream?" She asked.

"Yeah…good dream." He said, tracing the scar on his hand.

She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm uh, just gonna to keep myself distracted. Plenty to do y'know?"

She nodded but appeared unconvinced. "Yeah."

He was not unaware that she could see through his false sense of positivity.

"But uh…I'm sorry too." He reached forward and placed a hand on her arm, trying to convey to her all of the things he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

She returned the gesture knowingly.

"Is that a fork?" Jonathan asked, pointing to her cereal.

She picked up the utensil and held it up in the air for him to see.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you get a spoon?" He laughed.

"No spoons. Only forks. And knifes. Knife seemed like a bad idea." She stated matter-of-factly.

He whipped over to the kitchen drawers and began opening each one of them. He turned to her at a loss.

"How did we unpack this stuff last night without realizing that none of the spoons were in there?"

She shrugged unsurely.

He sat back down, throwing his head back at the absurdity of the spoons somehow getting separated from the rest of the cutlery.

"Next thing you know those damn magnets are gonna start falling off the fridge again." He said, motioning to the refrigerator behind them.

El turned her head and he snagged a handful of cereal from her bowl, popping it into his mouth.

"Hey!"

"Better than using a fork." He quipped.

She stifled a laugh.


"Listen to me. This has got to be handled delicately. Everything that happened here tonight, it does not go out to the public. It cannot go out to the public, yes?"

"Yes I know that but I just—I mean what do we do—how is this going to get explained when—"

"You let me handle that, understand? There was a fire. That's it. Don't answer any questions from anyone until the story comes out and don't let the kids answer any questions either.

Her eyes fell on Eleven. His followed.

"I could forge a transfer in guardianship."

She shook her head mournfully, not ready to accept the reality of the situation.

"You want my suggestion? You take her and Will, and you make sure they get the hell away from here before people start doing a whole lot more than speculating."


Joyce stared out off into the road as the words of Sam Owens haunted her memory. It had been a night from hell, reminding her that once again, her family could not be cut free from the ties of the Upside Down and the ramifications which were sure to follow their involvement. Something deep within her stirred with the unsettling feeling that all was not well. Flames had been extinguished, explosions had dissipated into dust. But something still brewed from beneath the ruble. That much had been made clear to her. And her kids? They were the ones for which that danger had the greatest chance of finding and claiming for itself. She could only hope that maybe here, those chances would be lessened.

She arrived at her soon-to-be place of employment. Starting tomorrow. Today, she was here as a customer.


"Nice of you to join us now that you've risen from the dead." Jonathan joked as Will came shuffling tiredly into the living room. It was only after the sentence left his mouth that he realized his unintentional poor choice of words. Luckily, Will didn't seem to notice.

"Ha Ha very funny. What are you guys doing up so early anyway?"

"Building a fort. We couldn't wait to get up and play with boxes." Jonathan said sarcastically as he ripped through a piece of packing tape.

Will cocked a smile at his comment. El narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"A fort?"

"Yeah no I'm kidding, we're definitely just unpacking." Jonathan laughed.

"Is mom still at the store?" Will asked, scanning his eyes around the room.

"Yeah, so if you want food you're pretty much out of luck unless you want—"

"Yeah, yeah cereal and granola bars." He said waving his hand dismissively as he walked into the kitchen.

Jonathan and El sorted through labels as Will looked on, stuffing his hand into the box of Cheerios.

"Here. These are yours." Jonathan said, stacking up two boxes marked "Will's Room."

"Do we really have to do this right now?" He grumbled.

"When else are we supposed to do it, Will? Tomorrow? When mom goes back to work and we both go back to school?"

Will stared at him with a mixture of hurt and annoyance.

"I'm sorry I just, I really think we need to get this done." Jonathan's tone was apologetic, but Will could see a great deal of tension behind his eyes.

"Okay, okay, we'll do it now." He compromised, and took the boxes upstairs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan noticed El sat frozen as she looked at the box in front of her.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

She turned the box to face him. HOPPER.

He wasn't sure what to say.

"We can…leave that one for mom to unpack, if you want."

She nodded slowly and pushed it gently to the side.

"GUYS!" Will yelled from his room. He came bounding down the stairs, stopping right in front of them. He held up a stack of spoons in each hand. "What the hell?"

Jonathan and El looked at each other before simultaneously laughing in disbelief.


Some time passed as box after box brought back memory after memory. There was a strange foreignness to seeing old possessions reemerge within a new set of walls. For the most part, they worked in somber silence until Joyce walked in arms piled high with grocery bags.

"Wow. You guys are really on a roll with the unpacking." She said as she weaved through empty heaps of cardboard.

El followed behind her into the kitchen, catching one of the bags as it slipped from her grasp.

"Oh, thank you." She said breathlessly as she bent forward to place the rest of them on the counter.

"Can I help?"

"No sweetie don't worry about it I've got it." She declined, but she smiled gratefully as El ignored her and began putting away the frozen food.

"Eggos?"

Joyce turned from the cupboard to see El holding the bright yellow box of waffles.

"Yeah I uh, I didn't know if you still liked them as much as Hop said you used to but…" She trailed off.

El gave her a small smile and nodded her head.

Several minutes later there was a loud thud, followed by the sound of Jonathan cursing from the other room.

"Jesus Jonathan what was that?!" Joyce called out in alarm.

They rushed in to see Jonathan clutching his finger.

"Piece of chipped wood caught me when I was trying to set it down. It's not bad."

"Honey that thing weighs a ton you didn't have to carry it in here by yourself." Joyce scolded as she looked at the bookshelf laying face down on the floor.

"Yeah I know, but it's fine I just—"

"What was that?!" Will asked as he rushed downstairs.

"It's nothing!" Jonathan emphasized, sounding frustrated.

Joyce interjected. "Okay, why don't you guys all take a break, yeah? I'm going to make us some sandwiches. Jonathan bologna and cheese, Will bologna and no cheese, and El peanut butter and jelly?"

They nodded. Joyce had always been keen at remembering what some would consider to be the smaller details about the kids. Like Will's distaste for cheese but only when it was on sandwiches, and El's aversion to certain foods that she described as slimy or mushy, such as bologna and peas.

With Joyce busying herself with lunch, the three of them were left standing in the living room.

"She's being really nice." Will said suspiciously.

"What?"

"Mom. She acting like, really nice to us."

"But, she's always nice." El countered.

"No I know that but I mean like, extra nice." Will clarified.

"She feels guilty." Jonathan stated grimly and disappeared upstairs into the bathroom to bandage his finger.


After the fourth, it had taken a month to learn how to live again. To do anything more than go through the motions. To feel anything more than shock, and fear. For Max, Dustin, Mike and Nancy, Lucas and Erica, and even Robin and Steve, whose parents had all been fed the publicized version of the truth, it was difficult to spend much time at home, hiding what had happened and playing into the story they needed to stick to. Although past events had proven that the kids were no strangers to keeping a secret, never had those events concluded with such extensive amounts of loss. As a result, the Byers household became somewhat of a safe haven for the remainder of that summer; a place where the truth could be talked about and grieved for. For Eleven, it became her new home. The permanence of that label was a topic that had at first been treaded lightly around, approached as one would approach a fresh wound.

However it was never really a question of whether or not Joyce would be the one to take her in. She was the only remaining adult in El's life who not only knew the full extent of her history, but who could also be trusted with it. She had always treated El with the same love and respect that a mother would show to a daughter. And on the night of the fourth, as El's mind reeled with the age-old fear of once again being left to grow up alone in a world where she didn't fit in, Joyce was quick to put those fears to rest.

The two of them had sat around the kitchen table that night, both too stricken with heartache to sleep. And it was then that Joyce told El something that Hopper had never mentioned.

"He said to me once, that if anything ever happened to him, the only thing he wanted was to make sure that you were taken care of. And then he got sort of quiet like he always did when he was trying too hard to say something serious, and he asked me if I wouldn't mind being the one to make sure that you were safe."

"He asked you that?"

"He did."

"What did you say?"

"Well, I looked him straight in the eyes, and I told him he was wasting his time asking me that because he should have known I would've done it anyway whether he approved of it or not."

El laughed through teary eyes.

"I know he knew you had other family…like your aunt, but I think he just thought—"

El shook her head and grabbed Joyce's hand from across the table, cutting her off. "No. This…is family." She declared, recalling the compassion and acceptance that Joyce and the rest of the group had shown her throughout the years.

Through the tactically intervening hands of Dr. Owens, it was discovered that Hopper had in fact taken steps to ensure that El would have had to go through as little interaction as possible with state laws and legalities in the event that he passed away before she turned eighteen. She was to be the sole beneficiary of any and all property and financial accounts, with legal authority delegated to Joyce. The issue of full legal custody however, was traditionally decided on by the court. But seeing as El was lacking any other documented proof of existence in the eyes of the government, save her forged birth certificate, Owens believed the custody matter could be easily finessed into a nonissue.

He had briefly brought Becky Ives into the conversation, stating that she was her biological aunt and lived a fair enough distance away from Hawkins…a comment which received immediate criticism from Joyce, who reiterated to him El's adamant vocalization of whom she wished to live with.

"Becky doesn't know El, Sam. She knows Jane, the child who she didn't believe existed for thirteen years until she showed up on her doorstep one day looking for her mother. And I guarantee you that she would end up doing something stupid that would jeopardize her safety. So if El says she doesn't want to live there, I dare you to do anything to make her."

Dr. Owens made no further suggestions, and full custody of Jane Hopper was forged promptly in the name of Joyce Byers.

He delivered the documentation to her in person several days later, along with another not so casual reminder to get a "For Sale" sign out on the lawn sooner rather than later.

Then there came the day when Joyce approached El about going back to the cabin to collect some of her things. No one had returned there during the week that followed previous events, and El knew she couldn't keep borrowing clothes and other necessities off of those around her. But, something about the idea of going back made her feel sick to her stomach, and she was slow to formulate a response. Mike, who had been spending the majority of his waking hours by her side during this time, was the one to offer her the suggestion of making a list. That way, she could write down all of the things she wanted and send someone else to go get them.

She ended up making three lists. One for Joyce, one for Mike, and one for Max, each of whom graciously accepted her request.

She had written for Max to collect things such as her clothes, undergarments, toiletries, magazines and other small sources of entertainment. Mike had the honor of gathering up the possessions he knew she held closest to her; photographs, mixtapes, gifts and letters (many of which were from himself), belongings from her past that only he and a fair few others knew the meaning behind. Joyce was given what she considered to be the "hard list," which entrusted her to find and take anything of Hopper's that she discerned to be important and hadn't been destroyed, though El did note that she specifically wanted to have a few of his flannel shirts.

Funerals and memorial services came and went with no physical bodies to lay to rest, the families of the deceased believing them to have been "burned alive by the fire" as described by the authorities. Nancy took it upon herself to arrange a memorial for Mrs. Driscoll, seeing as she had no other family and couldn't shake a culpable feeling of accountability for what had happened to her.

Billy's funeral was a hard one to stomach. The kids had all shown up in support of Max, and as she and her mother wept, Billy's father stood stone-faced in the congregation. El in particular seemed unusually distant and spent much of the service looking around as though she were trying to find someone. She later revealed that she had been looking for Billy's mother, and it was evident that the fact that she had not seen her was causing El to feel deeply distressed.

That night, she fell sobbing into Max's arms, repeating the words "I'm sorry" over and over again. Max cried with her, although it was unclear exactly what El was apologizing for. Sorry for her loss, yes, but the words carried more than an expression of condolence. She was sorry on behalf of Billy, whose last words had expressed his remorse. Sorry for Billy, and all of the abuse he'd been faced with. And sorry even for herself, as she now felt connected to memories from someone else's life, and was struggling to separate herself from them.

Hopper was honored as a hero in a commemorative vigil, which was broadcasted on the local news. It was decided that Eleven would not be in attendance, as her picture and relationship to the Chief of Police was not something that needed additional risk of being exposed by the press. Her friends stayed back with her that day, rallying around her in support. Dustin presented the solution of watching the vigil on T.V, an idea which El had at first seemed in agreement to. But as the program aired, Mike could feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beside him.

"Are you okay?" He asked her in a whisper.

She looked at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to see inside her thoughts in order to save her from speaking them. The look transported Mike back to a time when he once had to rely almost entirely on her eyes to tell the story. He had always been the first to understand nuances in her expression which others may have found it more challenging not to overlook.

He caught Dustin's attention from where he was sitting on the floor, nudging him with the toe of his foot. Mike shook his head subtly, eyes moving from El to the screen. No one objected when Dustin changed the channel.

A lingering tenseness followed El around that day, and Mike was not the only one to notice as she became frustrated with herself, fumbling over simple tasks like pouring herself a glass of juice. At one point she reflexively titled her head to the side as she turned away from the refrigerator door, only to spin back around and slam it shut with her hand upon realizing that it hadn't closed. When she curled up by herself in a ball on the couch that evening, no one had it in them to disturb her.

Joyce had returned from the vigil with tear-stained cheeks. Although she tried to hide the totality of her grief for the sake of her own kids and for that of the daughter he had left behind, Hopper's death was a vice on Joyce's heart. The sense of security he had brought into their lives was now gone, and with it went Joyce's last remaining hope that Hawkins could ever be her home again.

Time rolled over in August, and the start of the new school year thrusted everyone back into what they could muster of a normal routine as the initial shockwave began to lift. But no one felt quite at ease, and that uneasiness seemed to build until the day Murray showed up at Joyce's door.

The two had been in contact. They'd formed something of an odd friendship in the wake of the trauma they now shared, and though their conversations pertained mostly to business matters, Murray had been an unexpected shoulder to lean on.

That afternoon, he arrived with a stack of folders in hand.

"Jesus Murray you call at 8:30 in the morning just before I leave for work and tell me you're on your way here and I have to call out, which I really can't afford to do right now by the way, and you couldn't have at least told me why?!"

"Information sensitive conversations are best had in person, Joyce." He said, bypassing her into the kitchen and dropping the folders onto the table. She sat down, looking at him expectantly.

"Look, I know you've been putting it off. But if you're going to do this, this is your golden opportunity and thanks to me, it's basically being handed to you on a silver platter."

She looked at the papers in her hand, reading over them again and again.

115 W River Bend Rd., Hartford, IL 62048. Four bed, two bath split level overlooking the Mississippi River. Located on the edge of Hartford Village with easy access to local shops and dining. Madison County school district. For sale by owner.

Murray had connections in his line of work. People who owed him debts of gratitude for the things he had done and the truths he had uncovered. But, those debts of course, had to be paid off under the table. Sean and Melissa Davis knew their time had come to fulfil their end of the covert transaction when Murray called, having received word of their intentions to relocate. People get sick, family members move away to be closer to them, so it goes. Even if that means leaving their perfect little house on the river.

Thanks to circumstance and a dip in the economy, it was a low asking price. And it had every ounce of potential to drop even lower, with enough prodding from Murray. However, the haste with which this information needed to be handed over to Joyce was critical. The house had not officially been placed on the market, but the Davis's had agreed to illicitly hand Murray the keys, given that Joyce place her signature on the line, in proclamation of ownership.

"It's two hours northwest of me and eight hours down from Hawkins. Hartford Illinois. Tiny little village in Madison County. Population is basically in the negatives. Low crime rate, decent schools and best of all…the promise of not having an interdimensional portal into hell that the Russians want to use to try and kill everyone located right down the street."

"And you're sure that's a promise?" Joyce asked, only half-joking.

Murray placed a hand on his hip.

She sighed in deliberation. "And what about work? I can't just pick up and leave Melvald's without having another job lined up, Murray. I'm putting in twelve-hour days just to pay the mortgage and make sure the kids are fed.

Murray tossed another folder in front of her.

"Melissa Davis works as a clerk manager at the Hartford local grocery store, which pays her a livable amount. Now that Melissa is moving, guess where a position is about to open up? And not only that, but GUESS who convinced her to smuggle an application over to me for you to fill out and send in, prior of course, to any other applicants? Yes Joyce, I do believe I have covered all of my bases, would you not agree?"

Joyce leaned back in her chair. It seemed in fact to be, as Murray had described it, the golden opportunity; a quick end to her secretive struggle to find a way out of Hawkins. The only thing left to do would be to finalize the process of putting her own house up on the market. And of course, to tell the kids.

The kids. She looked at the clock, suddenly panicked.

"Murray, you have to go, Jonathan and Will could walk through that door any minute and this is not a discussion I want to be having when they get here."

Murray stopped her before she could shove him out of the kitchen.

"I need you to make a decision, Joyce. This is time sensitive. You either sign these papers now, or I can't guarantee anything and there's nothing more to it than that. And by the way, I had a conversation with our little friend Dr. Owens the other day, and I promise you that you are not going to want to stick around here for much longer. And I know you're aware of that."

She closed her eyes and took a breath.

"Okay, Give me the pin."


With Murray gone and on his way before Jonathan's car pulled into the drive, it seemed that a crisis had been avoided, and for a brief moment, Joyce felt relieved. Until of course, she remembered that the walls of her house were incredibly thin, and she and Murray had not been the only ones home.

El looked at the clock on the nightstand. 3:15. With the help of a back window she made her way out of the house. Her body forced itself into autopilot. She was vaguely aware of the throbbing in her left leg as she ran, but the risk of disrupting the healing process was not her immediate concern.

She hadn't been certain, but his bike laying on its side in the grass confirmed that he was at home.

"El? My God, honey are you alright?!"

"Mike. Where's Mike?" She panted.

At the sound of El's name, Mike had emerged from the kitchen.

"Hey! I was just about to call and see if you wanted me to come over later." He said, making his way to where she stood at his front door. That was when he noticed.

Her face was covered with a mix of sweat and tears and there were snags in her shirt from where the branches had whipped her when she cut through the woods. She was gasping so hard for air that she looked on the verge of hyperventilating.

He felt his heart sink to his knees. "El?!" He breathed.

Fresh tears filled her eyes when she saw his face. Mike pushed passed his mom and pulled her inside by the hand.

"El? El, what's wrong? What happened?"

She said nothing.

"El, please, talk to me." Mike pressed desperately.

But she couldn't speak. She crumpled into his chest, sobs racking her body as her legs gave out underneath her.

Karen quickly made her way over to the phone. And after some brief panic and confusion, Joyce was able to regretfully disclose to her the reason for why El had likely ended up there. But not of course before Jonathan and Will walked in on the tail end of Joyce's explanation. It had gone downhill from there. Will was visibly upset, locking himself in his room for the remainder of that night. Jonathan was quiet, but seemed to be battling with his emotions.

The days that followed were unpleasant as the news quickly broke out amongst their circle of friends. And while everyone was reasonably upset, Mike specifically, was angry. He was angry for feeling powerless against it. He wished that he could just hide El away in his basement again and take Will along with him while all of this blew over. But as it was explained to them all, there really was no end in sight. September came, and news media started to spread. Old rumors began to resurface. Talk of government conspiracies were on the rise. Fears of communist infiltration were spoken about in hushed voices. And at the end of the day, Will and Eleven needed to get out from under it all before someone uncovered the truth. But that harsh reality didn't make it less painful to watch them go.

It was not up to El, and Mike knew it, but the part of his heart that had been badly wounded was having a difficult time acknowledging that. So without realizing it, to protect himself from the pain, he started to pull away from her.


It was never made into a formal announcement that Eleven and Mike had gotten back together after their momentary breakup. In the aftershock that followed Hop's death, it hadn't felt right to bring up something as arbitrary as relationship status, seeing as it was obvious that they'd reconciled. However, it was not as though things had immediately returned to normalcy, if there ever was such a thing. Not wanting to repeat his past mistakes, Mike had shown somewhat of a timid side of himself when it came to asking for time with her, and would consistently make sure to let El take the lead. But much to Mike's relief, he was always her first choice.

It didn't take long for El to notice when Mike began to distance himself emotionally. Never would he ignore her, or disregard her calls, or say anything mean or discourteous to her. But the tightness of his embrace loosed. The passion with which he would kiss her faded. The light in his eyes when he looked at her dimmed.

Then, one afternoon, as she leaned in to kiss him, he turned his head away. Mike decided that being stabbed in the chest would have been a better alternative to having to see the look in El's eyes after that. He'd seen many emotions being reflected through those eyes, but never had he seen her look so hurt.

Later that same evening, Dustin knocked on the Byers' front door. He'd been dropping off a box of Will's things that had accumulated at his house over the years, thinking that maybe now would be a good time to return them, seeing as Will was moving away. Before he left, Dustin noticed El sitting alone in the living room, staring blankly at the T.V with her knees to her chest.

"You um, you know that's not on…right?" He questioned, pointing to the dark screen.

She didn't respond.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Dustin asked conclusively, sitting down beside her.

El had been unsure of how to confront Mike about his sudden disinterest towards her. She knew something wasn't right, but she didn't know the words to describe it.

"Mike. He…I don't know how to explain it."

Dustin sat thoughtfully. "Um, okay well what…happened exactly? You know, in whatever words…make the most sense." He promoted awkwardly.

She shook her head. "He just…doesn't want me anymore."

Dustin looked unconvinced. "Doesn't want you anymore? Come on that's impossible sometimes I think you're like basically the only thing Mike wants and it's kind of annoying. But seriously though no offensive."

"I…tried to kiss him, and…he didn't kiss me back."

"Okay are you sure it was because he didn't want to kiss you? Because maybe he just like, had something really gross for lunch and his breath smelled really bad or something." Dustin tried to rationalize.

She looked at him helplessly. "Not just the kiss. He's acting different. Like he's here, but at the same time…he's not."

Dustin was silent for a moment.

"My God."

"What?" She asked worriedly.

"Oh, nothing I just never realized Mike was this stupid."

"Hu?"

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Look, I don't think you have anything to worry about. But Mike definitely does because I'm going to kick some serious sense into his ass."

Dustin was satisfied when he saw what looked to be tiniest glimpse of a smile appear on El's face.

"Promise?" She asked.

He extended a hand out to her. "Promise."

The next day after school, Dustin dragged Mike to the side.

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

"What?"

"I talked to El yesterday, Mike. What, did you think she wasn't going to notice that you're being a total asshole?"

"What are you talking about?!" He argued, immediately sounding defensive.

Dustin brought his hands up to his temples. "Oh my god Mike, seriously? You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"Oh really? Because I really don't think I do!"

Dustin collected himself, attempting to level with him. "Mike, listen to me, I know you're trying to make this easier on yourself because she's leaving but if you keep doing this you're only going to—"

He cut him off. He couldn't take it anymore. "I'M LOSING HER, DUSTIN!" He burst out angerly.

Dustin was quick to retaliate.

"Yeah, Mike, you are! But her moving away has absolutely nothing to do with it! The only reason you're losing her is because YOU are pushing her away!" Dustin shouted, shoving him backward slightly.

Mike shook his head, turning away from him contemptuously.

"You don't understand."

"Oh, I don't understand?! My girlfriend lives in Utah for crying out loud!"

Mike turned back around to face him. "It's different alright!"

"How Mike? How is it different?! Because I'm pretty sure that the only thing making your situation different from mine right now is the fact that you're being an emotionally unavailable crybaby."

Mike exhaled in indignation. Dustin continued.

"You do realize that she literally jumped out of a window and ran to your house crying when she found out she was leaving right? Or did you forget that somehow?"

He took a couple of breaths before resolving to slump onto the ground, placing his head in his hands. Dustin followed suit, and gave him an understanding pat on the back.

"I know it sucks dude, but you two have gone through some like, crazy shit together so honestly I feel like it would be kinda weird for this to be the thing that draws the line after making it through like, ten near death experiences."

Mike snorted. He returned Dustin's pat on the back as a sign of reconciliation.

He grinned. "Hey look at it this way, now I can teach you all of the secrets to having a wildly successful long-distance relationship like me and Suzie. I'll let you borrow Cerebro."


El received a call from Mike that afternoon, asking if she could meet him out on the porch after dinner. She was a bit confused by his odd request, but agreed.

He arrived a little breathless from his bike ride over, but jogged right over to El as she waited patiently outside. Before she could even say hello, he placed his hands on both sides of her face and pulled her into a firm kiss on the lips.

She reciprocated as best she could before he pulled away.

"I swear, if I ever decide to not kiss you again, please can you just punch me in the face?"

She looked at him, wrinkling her brow in bemusement.

He sighed, gathering himself. "El, I am really, really sorry." He said to her intently.

"I should have never acted so stupid when I found out you and Will were moving. I just…I got so mad when I realized that I was going to lose you again. And I was really angry that there's nothing I can do about it. And…I guess I was afraid. Like, after everything that's happened…you just, you really are the most important thing in the world to me. And I thought maybe if I tried not to lo—….um, if I tried not to care about you so much that maybe it would hurt less when you left. But I know that that was wrong now. Like really, really wrong." He paused. "And I know this is really hard on you too…I don't know, I thought I was done being selfish, but I guess I wasn't, because that was a really selfish thing to do, and I'm really, really sorry that I did it."

El circled around herself in vexation before snatching him by the hem of his jacket and yanking him into a hug. He grabbed onto her tightly, and she melted into him. Mike was back.

Clearly having been vindicated, Mike was perplexed when El shoved him roughly on the shoulder after releasing him from their embrace. He looked at her questioningly.

"You scared me, Mike!" She reprimanded him in exasperation. "I didn't know what was wrong. I thought you didn't like me anymore or something."

Mike bit his lip. "I know, and I didn't mean to make you think that I don't still want to be with you because I definitely still do want to be with you, because I definitely still like you...like, a lot."

His sentence concluded, but the awkward pause that followed insinuated that there was more to what he was trying to say.

El took his hand.

"Mike. I understand."

She placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "You won't lose me."

Their eyes locked. A lot had changed in the nearly two years since she'd last spoken those words to him, standing almost exactly where they stood now, but the depth behind their meaning had not. Mike stared at her, transfixed.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

For a moment, time was frozen.

"Hey, maybe it won't be that bad though. Dustin said he'd teach me how to be a really good long-distance boyfriend. He says communication is really important, and we should try to always plan the next time we're going to see each other. So I was thinking maybe I could ask my mom if I could come see you guys over Thanksgiving break. You know, if that's okay with Mrs. Byers and all."

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. That would be really good."

He smiled before glancing down at his watch.

"Oh, hey I've gotta go. My mom's already pissed at me for coming over so late on a school night. But um, I'll see you tomorrow?"

She smiled. "See you tomorrow."

"Oh, and I will!" She called out to him as he hurried back over to his bike.

He turned. "Will what?"

"Punch you in the face if you ever decide to not kiss me again." She told him flippantly.

He laughed. "Good. I'm gonna hold you to that."


The house sold, and more quickly than expected.

Even after a fix up from Gary, there's no hiding the fact that an old home is more rundown than anything of the more modern selection. It had gone on the market for cheap, and a struggling family looking for a downsize took an immediate interest. By the beginning of October, everyone knew the time had almost come to say goodbye.

The final days were surprisingly peaceful, though underscored with sadness. It was not so much about having fully accepted their departure it as it was coming to the understanding that it was happening regardless. They resolved to all do their best to make the most of it, smiling though moments when they really would have rather cried. At some point, you stop thinking about tomorrow and try only to live for every moment leading up to it.

The Friday night before moving day was a reminder of everything good.

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin had shown up at Will's, bearing the message that the Khuisar Tribe was in need of help and only the wisest among them could be of assistance. At first, Will had been hesitant to accept their invitation to play D&D, saying that he knew they weren't kids anymore, and they could spend their last night together doing something else. They were sincere when they told him they wanted to finish the campaign he had once started, as it was in fact quite brilliant.

They planned to camp out at Mike's for the night, seeing as El and Jonathan each had made plans of their own. They left them to their own devices, but not before Mike kissed El three times on the lips before leaving.

Dustin leaned over to her on his way out. "Told you I'd kick some sense into his ass."

She laughed and Dustin played dumb as Mike asked him what he was talking about.

They boys were not the only ones spending some parting time at the Wheeler's, and Karen and Joyce reminisced together over wine.

Being the last two left in the house, Jonathan turned to El. "Ready?" He asked. She nodded and they made their way out to his car.

He dropped her off at Max's before heading to pick up his date.

Nancy looked stunning in her fitted red dress that frilled out right below the knee. Jonathan had insisted on taking her out to a nice dinner, even though she knew he couldn't afford it. Afterwards they returned back to an empty house, and Nancy lay still in Jonathan's bed as she gazed at the dress that was now draped across the floor.

"What's wrong?" He asked her, kissing her collarbone as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

She turned over and pressed her head into his chest.

"I just, could really use a Jonathan Byers pep talk right now."

He placed a finger up under her chin, and softly titled her head up towards him.

"Hey. It's gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."


"So I heard Mike did something stupid again." Max inquired as she worked at constructing the French braid in El's hair.

"Where'd you hear that?" She asked curiously.

"From Lucas. And Lucas heard it from Dustin. Neither of them are very good at keeping their mouths shut when it comes to relationship drama."

El giggled. "Oh. Yeah, he did. But he fixed it."

Max reached a hand down to her shoulder zealously. "Has he told you he loves you yet?"

El shrank with abashment at the question. Max took that as her answer.

"Ugh, come on what is wrong with that boy?! You know what, if he doesn't have the balls to do it, you should totally just tell him that you know he said it."

El's eyes widened.

Max made eye contact with her in the mirror. "El. You're moving tomorrow. If he doesn't do it now how much longer is he going to wait?"

"He could…tell me over the phone?" She suggested.

Max shook her head. "No, no, no. Saying I love you for the first time? That needs to be done in person.

"Why?"

"I don't know it's like one of the unwritten laws of dating."

El contemplated. "Maybe…maybe I should just tell him."

"Yeah. You mean like tell him that you know?"

"No. I mean tell him that I love him."

Before Max could respond, the front door opened, and Susan and Neil could be heard arguing in the living room. The girls met each other's eyes, and Max kicked the bathroom door shut. But Neil's voice bellowed through the walls as he spat obscenities at Susan.

"Mouthbreather." El contended.

Max cracked a smile.

"I'm seriously gonna miss you." She sighed. "Figures right when I finally get a best friend she has to move away."

"Best friend?"

"Yeah, it's like, different from a regular friend or like, a boyfriend. It's the person who you have sleepovers with all the time, and go shopping with, and tell all of your most embarrassing secrets to."

She handed El a mirror and turned her around so that she could see the back of her hair in the reflection. "Okay. What do you think?"

El ran her hand along the neatly woven plait.

"Pretty." She said, smiling at herself in the mirror.

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"You're my best friend too."


Despite the weather being nice, the next morning brought with it the loom of a dark cloud which everyone did their best to ignore. Most of the packing had been kept until that day, so there was plenty to divert from what impended. However, big tasks are made smaller in the company of others, and soon the space around them began to empty.

A home turns back into a house when all of its rooms are bare. And despite the lightheartedness that had carried over from the night before, the imminent farewells weighed heavier with each box that was lifted into the truck.

Will stood outside what remained of Castle Byers. Nothing more than wood and nails. But the fractured yellow paint read back to him, just as it always had. "All Friends Welcome." They were older now, perhaps more unrelatable, but his friends would forever be to him what he defined as irreplaceable.

"Woah. Dude, that's the donation box." Mike said to him, as he parted with that last sacred item from his room.

"I know. I'll just use yours when I come back. I mean, if we still wanna play."

"Yeah, but, what if you wanna join another party?"

"Not possible." He said, and Mike smiled as he watched him turn away.


"Is that…everything?" Nancy asked him, wishing for more to delay the process.

"I guess so." Jonathan told her, now disheartened by their work.

He stepped forward into the only room that he had ever called his own.

"Seventeen years of my life, packed up in one day." He felt himself begin to waver, but Nancy came to hug him from behind.

"What if I just…don't let you go."

He smiled at how simple that sounded, yet how impossible it seemed. "I think…the new owners might kick us out."

"You could stay in our basement." She said, her facetiousness stemming from hopeless whims.

"Your dad'd love that."

"We could hide you in a tent. Like El."

It was a suggestion that was so humorous in nature, that Nancy crumbled under its absurdity. What a different time it was, when the escaped young girl that now lived under his roof, was hiding out right under hers.

Jonathan pulled her in to stop her, before her mind could let her wander too far.

"Hey. It's gonna be okay. As a wise man once said, we've got shared trauma—"

"So what's a little more, right?"

He kissed her on the hand that held the scar they shared.

"So what's a little more."


El reached for the stuffed bear in what she knew would be a useless effort. She was somewhat on the shorter side, and top shelves were now a problem. It was a concern that lurked inside of her, though she pushed away the full extent. With no one else around, she tried in vain to conquer it once again.

"They'll come back." He reassured her. "I know they will." He told her casually. In truth, Mike knew it bothered her and he knew she tried to hide it. So instead he'd simply help her, but paid mind to making his assistance feel nonchalant.

"Thanks." She acknowledged gratefully.

"You packed your walkie, right?" He asked her, moving swiftly away from the subject.

"Yes." She confirmed.

"Because you know that I'm gonna steal Cerebro from Dustin and call you so much you're gonna have to turn it off, right?"

She laughed, remembering their promise to communicate effectively. "Did you talk to your mom? About Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got the okay. I'll be there." He smiled. What a surprisingly easy conversation that had been. "And then I was thinking maybe you could come up here for Christmas. And Will too. You can come before or after Christmas, or whatever Mrs. Byers wants, but, I was thinking Christmas Day could be super fun because we'd all have cool new presents to play with and uh…" He sensed that he was rambling. "Sorry, that made me sound like a seven-year-old…"

"I—I like presents too…" She conceded to him awkwardly.

"Yeah—yeah, cool. I like—I like presents too."

"Cool."

It was an uncomfortable exchange, and it was undeniably rooted in the temperament of the day. There was so much they could have said to each other, yet none of it felt quite right. None of it of course, but the words El had long been expecting him to say. But Mike's words, whether they be too many or too few, would often fail him when his emotions ran on high.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

She breathed out the nervous tremble in her body that heightened with the idea of what she wanted to reveal.

"Remember that day…at the cabin, you were talkin' to Max?"

"Um…I don't think I follow."

Oh, how she hoped that wasn't true.

"You talked about your feelings…your heart."

You said three words I'd really like you to repeat, she thought.

"Oh. Oh yeah that! Man, that was so long ago um…I know it was really heat of the moment stuff and, we were arguing um…I don't really remember…what did I say exactly?"


El contemplated. "Maybe…maybe I should just tell him."

"Yeah. You mean like tell him that you know?"

"No. I mean tell him that I love him."


For all of the things that were uncertain in El's life and for all of the things she had yet to understand the meaning of…this was for certain. And she knew exactly what it meant.

"Mike." She walked over to him slowly, touching her hand to his cheek.

"I love you too."


They each looked around, surrounded by all of the unoccupied space.

Lucas admired their work. "Wow. It actually looks pretty good. I mean you'd never know a Demogorgon came out of the wall and tried to kill everyone."

Max slapped him on the head and he scoffed, insulted.

"I'm just saying you wouldn't notice!"

One by one, they joined each other outside carrying with them the remainder of the boxes. It was time.

"Where's El?" Mike asked before walking out of the door.

"Oh, just um…give her a minute. She's coming." Joyce told him.

El made her way down the hallway, holding the last box in her arms.

"Ready?" Joyce asked her.

"Ready." She said.

Losing something, even when you're choosing to leave it behind, often brings light to the parts of it you're going to miss. It makes you realize that no, maybe things weren't always so bad. There were days when the sun came out and made you forget that it had ever rained. There were times when your tears came from laughter, and your heart filled up with joy rather than pain. And it is strange how the closing of a door can make you ask why even the worst memories have the capacity to feel nostalgic. Maybe is it because we cling onto what is familiar, because change is scary, even when it is good.

El had been given an unexpected gift that day; a gift that had provided her the strength to walk down the steps. The ability to feel like even for moment, all that she needed to do to survive it, was to stand back up on her feet.

It didn't make the goodbyes any easier, since there is nothing in this world that ever could, but it gave her the permission to admit to herself just how much she loved the people she was being pulled away from, and just how badly it hurt to leave them behind.

And though many hours had passed since she'd read it, that night she fell asleep with the words of his letter on her mind.


"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you both about. I know this is a difficult conversation, but I care about you both very much. And I know that you care about each other very much, and that's why it's important that we set these boundaries moving forward so we can build an environment where we all feel comfortable, trusted, and open to sharing our feelings.

Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I'd forgotten what those even were. I've been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I left some Eggos out in the woods and you came into my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy. But lately, I guess I've been feeling distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me or something. I miss playing board games every night, making triple decker Eggo extravaganzas at sunrise, watching Westerns together before we doze off.

But I know you're getting older, growing, changing. I guess, if I'm being really honest, that's what scares me. I don't want things to change. So I think maybe that's why I came in here, to try and stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were. But I know that's naive. It's just not how life works. It's moving, always moving, whether you like it or not. And yeah, sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's sad. And sometimes, it's surprising. Happy.

So you know what? Keep on growing up kid. Don't let me stop you. Make mistakes, learn from 'em. When life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you're out of that cave. But, please, if you don't mind, for the sake of your poor old dad, keep the door open three inches."


Please review with your thoughts! As I said I'm really enjoying writing this story and I have so many ideas for later chapters!

Thank you so much for reading!

-Heather