Sergei Prokofiev was gently tapping the steering wheel in time to his slow and steady heartbeat. He had always been adept at controlling his emotions, but Dmitri was pushing him to his limits. He sat beside him with the passenger door open picking his teeth with the torn edge of an old matchbox. The sound of his large lips sucking over his teeth was jarring him. And it wasn't just that. Everything he did was loud. He rustled in his clothes. No one should rustle in their clothes. Sergei sighed and closed his eyes. He longed to get this over with. Get the girl and get out. Before he shot his comrade. Or himself.

Dmitri dispensed with the picking and began humming. Then he sniffed and began to pick at a fingernail. He was enjoying the cool breeze wafting in through the open door. He glanced over and saw Sergei's white knuckles on the steering wheel and guessed he was tense. He leant forward and put the radio on, hoping it might relax his colleague. The Rolling Stones were on. He cranked up the volume and sang along, tunelessly.

Mercifully, in time to save Sergei's sanity and Dmitri's life, the comms radio crackled. Dmitri muted Mick Jagger and picked up his walkie-talkie.

"Da…" He glanced at Sergei, smiling and replaced the handset. "Okay," he said. "We go in and get the girl and get rid of the others."

Sergei made no comment. He was relieved. He desperately wanted to kill someone. He opened his door and unfolded his frame out of the car. He felt the warmth of the sun on him and smiled. It was a good day to kill.

"Mike!" Mike heard the note of panic in Will's voice and swivelled his head around towards him. Will's eyes were wide with fear. "We're out of time," he said.

Mike turned back to El.

"Can you get up?"

El looked up at him. She nodded slowly. Everything hurt. Inside and out.

"I think so," she said. Her voice sounded strange to her, as if it didn't belong to her. She stood up. It wasn't just her voice that felt as if didn't belong… She saw the way Mike was looking at her.

"You okay?" he asked. He sounded nervous.

"I'm not sure," she said.

"Mike!" Will's voice was full of alarm now. "They have guns…" His voice trailed off.

Mike didn't know what they were going to do. El was in no fit state to go anywhere. He suddenly felt as if he had no fight left in him. He smiled at El. He loved her so much.

"I guess time's up," he said. He shrugged. "Did you find Hopper at least?"

Hopper

El screwed up her eyes tight. She had forgotten about Hopper. How could she have? She felt her brain churning inside her head. It was still in there. Waiting. She opened her eyes and nodded.

"He's alive," she said.

Mike smiled with relief. At least El wouldn't carry the burden of guilt around with her. She had done all she could.

"I guess we go quietly," he said.

Someone shouted from outside. A thick Russian accent.

"Time to come out children. Or we start shooting."

Dimitri spat on the ground. "Do we have to keep the girl alive?"

Sergei glanced over at Dimitri. It was a stupid question, but he was a stupid man.

"Yes," he said carefully. "We have to keep the girl alive. That is the only reason we're here." He paused waiting for Dimitri to catch up. Dimitri stared balefully ahead. "This has all been for the girl," Sergei clarified.

"They're toying with us," Dimitri said.

Sergei looked back to the house. For once he agreed with his comrade.

"Ya nenavizhu detey," he said vehemently. He carefully withdrew his gun and ran his hands lovingly over the black metal. He took a careful step towards the house as the front door slowly opened.

The next thing Sergei Prokofiev remembers is flying through the air and his beloved gun arching beautifully above him.

"Open the door," El said. There was something in her voice. Will glanced at Mike.

"El?" Mike put out a hand to touch her, but she shrugged him off. She was staring ahead. Her eyes were fixed upon the door.

"Open it," she said.

Mike put himself between El and the door.

"You can't, El," he said. She turned her gaze on Mike. He had never seen her eyes so dark. It looked as if they were full of shadow. He faltered. He backed towards the door as she walked towards him.

"Open it," she said again and this time, Mike didn't argue.

With shaking hands, he unlocked the door and then slowly opened it. El placed herself in the doorway. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and held out a hand. Mike and Will stood behind her and watched. Her body was rigid, and Mike noticed the muscles in her neck bulge. Outside, they saw two men fly through the air and the car lift up, like a horse rearing, and then overbalance and land on its side.

One of the men shouted out in surprise. The other man stood up, but before he could retrieve his gun, he was slammed backwards into the fallen car.

El lowered her hand and crumpled to a heap on the ground.

"He's waking up…" Steve and Robin turned to look at Hopper. "What do we do now?" Dustin looked more scared of the man, half-dead on the bed, than he had been facing a gun.

"Get some water," Robin said. Dustin looked around vacantly. "From the bathroom!" She walked over to the bed and sat down gingerly. Hopper was blinking as if trying to get sight back into his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She wasn't a very good nurse and recoiled from the idea of putting a hand on his forehead. Hopper smacked his lips together and groaned slightly.

Dustin returned with the water. "Here," he said.

Robin stood up. "Give it to him," she said.

"No way." He thrust the full glass of water towards her.

"So, because I'm the girl, I have to give him the water?"

"I'll give him the water!" Steve took the glass from Dustin, wincing as he did so. He felt quite smug. "What's wrong with you both?" He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Do you need water?" he asked. Despite Hopper looking only half the man he had been, there was still something formidable about him and it wasn't just that he had the look of someone perpetually angry. Steve didn't ever want to be on the wrong side of him.

Hopper focused on Steve's face. "What are you doing here?" His voice was raspy.

"Just drink," Steve said showing him the glass.

"Where's El?"

"I don't know…"

"You don't know?" Hopper tried to sit up, but he groaned and collapsed back into the bed. "I need to find her," he said.

"You can't go anywhere right now," Steve said. He took the blood soaked towel away from his shoulder. He wasn't in pain anymore and he wondered if the numbness was overall a bad thing. "We're not exactly difficult to miss."

Hopper shut his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, Steve noticed the ice in them. He swallowed nervously.

"She's in danger and I need to find her," he said. "Where's the woman who was holding me?"

"I ran her over," Steve said.

"And now she's locked in the same cell you were in…" Dustin's smile faded when Hopper turned his frosty gaze upon him.

"You think this is funny?" He tried sitting up again and this time managed. He looked back at Steve, at the wound in his shoulder. "What were you thinking? What were any of you thinking?"

"You're welcome by the way…" Robin lifted her chin and stared resolutely at Hopper. "I mean, we just saved your life."

Hopper shook his head. He moved again and winced with the pain.

"You don't understand," he said.

"Oh, I understand," Robin said. "I recognise ingratitude when I see. I've put up with it for years."

Hopper sighed. He took the glass that Steve still held in his hand and took a sip, then another and another until he had drained the glass. All the time, he watched Robin over the rim. Then he handed the glass back to Steve.

"He wasn't going to let her kill me," he said. He wiped a hand wearily across his face. "All you've done is got yourself shot and put your own lives in danger." He gestured to Dustin. "A child's life…"

Hopper slid his legs off the bed. "I need to get cleaned up," he said.

"You need to rest." Steve put the glass down and stood up. "You can't go anywhere like that," he said.

Hopper glanced down at his bloody clothes and the wound that still leaked.

"She needs me," he said brokenly. Then he looked up at Steve again. "Did you have a plan?" he asked. "I need to warn her. I need to get to her."

"Mike…"

"I see it…" Mike didn't take his eyes from El, but he could feel Will trembling beside him.

"What is it?"

Mike shook his head. He called her name, but he knew she couldn't hear. She was surrounded by something. It was as if she was being wrapped in a grey shroud made from air. It billowed around her and lapped against her body hungrily.

They watched in morbid fascination and then, as suddenly as it appeared, it seemed to sigh and fade to nothing.

El stirred.

Outside a car pulled up. Will saw through the open door. He jumped over El.

"Mom!"