Chapter 1: The Woman Who Fell To Hawkins

The paper crinkled as Joyce wrestled to pull the phone out of the package, spilling chunks of brown cardboard in the process. Damn it. If she wouldn't be more careful, the whole thing would end up in pieces before she had even gotten around to try it. The thing was that being careful wasn't among the best of her qualities – at least not now. Not while she was walking the thin line between utter hell and sheer panic. Oh, for God's sake, would you give me a break? He's missing! No time to be messing around!

Yet, and she did realize this very clearly, breaking anything would be the last thing to contribute to finding her son now. So she tried to compose herself for a bit, taking deep breaths before she gave a firm tug and finally managed to get the phone out of its package. The box fell on the ground, the handset nearly following its example as she lost grip of it and it went sailing to the floor. She managed to grab onto it for the last second, still taking deep breaths as she put it back. Her hands were shaking and her legs weren't doing far better, either.

See. There you go. I'm calm, I'm very calm, and now I'm going to put this damned piece of scrap into place to speak to my lost son.

There mere thought of it was nearly enough to make her giggle. For sure, Joyce was going to pull it off. A whole posse was out there looking for him, not finding anything even after looking for a godawful amount of time in those godforsaken woods, but fear not, ladies and gentlemen: Joyce Byers would have the fucking scoop. And how? Well, by giving him a friendly call, of course.

As she went to connect the phone, she wondered whether anyone would believe her. Jonathan believed her, although he still had his doubts. She was even more curious as to why, actually. He had been there, right? He had heard the thing ringing? It would have been a different story if he hadn't, like Hopper, who believed all of this to be one big joke. She wasn't sure, but she believed he even gave it the honor of dubbing it one of Mr. Jim Hopper's-fantastic-titles, or, as he liked to call it, his "special kind of honky-donkey-horseshit".

But he hadn't heard it! Didn't matter. She had. And she'd be damned if it hadn't been Will's breathing, the frightening, little asthmatic gasps he emitted whenever he was scared. Oh God, she remembered now: he had been scared, by whatever that freaking… thing was. That growling didn't belong to a normal animal and she was well aware of it. Didn't matter. Not yet, at least. Her entire existence was reduced to small, separate facts and she had to focus on just one of them: Will was lost, and she had to find him. All other things were secondary.

After connecting the phone, she dragged it across the living room to find a proper place to put it down, but she suddenly felt it being nearly ripped from her hands as she struggled to keep her balance. She turned around, ready to respond with a complete breakdown to this new obstacle, but it proved to be a laughable minor one; the cord simply wasn't long enough. Frustrated and cursing under her breath, she looked around, trying to find a table or a cabinet. There was nothing, at least, nothing she could move without some help. Fine. Sniffing, she turned the nearest armchair around and fell down on it, then proceeded to push it towards the connecting panel. Placing the telephone right in front of her, she finally allowed herself to ease down a bit, and she drew a long, tense breath.

Then she waited.

Time passed. She didn't know whether it was just a matter of seconds, of minutes, perhaps hours. She'd swear she had been alert the whole time, although there wasn't a complete truth to this, since she felt herself slowly drifting away as time progressed. She wouldn't exactly call it sleeping; it was more a kind of trance-state. She had dreams. Maybe not dreams, maybe visions, maybe predictions, or maybe both. Will being alone. Will being chased by something big, something dark. Will finding a shelter, but it wouldn't open. Why wouldn't it fucking open?

Then there came the doubts. What if he wouldn't be able to call her again? Or what if the phone would indeed ring, but when she'd pick it up, she wouldn't hear anything but a slight, menacing growling? What if she would hear him dying?

No, she wouldn't. It couldn't be. The phone would ring, she would pick it up and she would hear his voice again; she would tell him to calm down (although she might've forgotten a tiny bit about her own paper-thin sanity there) and push him to tell her where he was. There was simply no other possibility. Clinging on to this thought like a castaway would cling to a life buoy, she waited, slowly drifting in the darkness.

When it finally rang, she felt herself nearly being unable to move. Hands still trembling, she picked it up, and almost screamed as she asked: "Hello? Hello? Will?"

Oh God, it was him. It really was him. She heard his small, shivering gasps, the heartbreaking fear in his breath as she listened. She repeated his name over and over, probably more to convince herself that she was really speaking to her son, but before she could ask anything else, she suddenly heard other sounds. The growling. No… not just the growling. There was a different sound as well. She first didn't hear it as she mistook it for interference, then realized this was anything but a normal phone call… if it was even a phone call. She listened carefully, trying to make out its source. It was a bit of a wheezing sound, but it sounded rather broken, as if it was a machine struggling with kicking in. It continued for four or five more seconds, then fell silent.

"Hello? Will? Will? Are you the-"

Joyce yelped as the handset short-circuited. She stared at the black speakers for a second, then threw the whole thing away as she buried her face in her hands. Why? Just why is the universe so damn persistent in taking him away from me?

She could hardly control herself, tears burning behind her eyes as she fell to her knees. She was not crazy; she was now certain that it had been her own son's breathing, although she had no clue what the other sounds meant or what their sources where. Was he in danger? Well, yes, how would you otherwise explain that he sounded like he was on the verge of collapsing? And then she hadn't even started about that awful growling she'd heard… although the wheezing sound was just weird. It had sounded out of place. Of course, nearly everything was out of place, but… how would you say that? It just, it didn't fit?

Oh, what was the point. The phone was fried again. She would have to get back to Donald for another one, although he would surely be more hesitant this time. Not to mention how he would react when she would show up again, and again, and again, until the point where the whole house would be stocked with short-circuited phones. But there had to be another way, right? It just had to be…

But that was all before she noticed that the lights had started flickering. Carefully, she got up and proceeded to follow them, determined to find her son.

Of course, Eleven had already noticed the wound on his chin, but she hadn't dared to ask him about it until they had gotten off their bikes and went into the woods. And she knew it wasn't just a scratch he got from an accident, because he seemed rather thoughtful about it. Almost as if it was pestering him. She found it hard to admit, but she almost vaguely recognized the emotions in his dejected face.

So she decided to go ahead and ask: "Why did they hurt you?"

Mike looked up, almost startled. Yeah, now she was absolutely certain it wasn't just a scratch. "What?"

She pointed to his chin. He looked down again. "Oh, that. Uh, I just fell at recess."

Eleven didn't know why, but his rejection hurt her a little. Maybe it was because it made her remember something – although she couldn't exactly make out what it was supposed to be. All the previous flashbacks she'd had had been clear, almost like pictures, but this one seemed to be buried under deep layers of dust and darkness. All she knew was that it stung her. And she didn't want Mike to lie to her.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Friends tell the truth," she simply said. Mike looked at her for a few seconds, not quite sure what to say, then sighed. "I was tripped by this mouth breather, Troy, okay?"

"Mouth breather? The word sounded funny.

"Yeah, you know, a dumb person. A knucklehead."

"Knucklehead?"

He sighed again. "I don't know why I just didn't tell you. Everyone at school knows. I… I just didn't want you to think I was such a wastoid, you know?"

Even though he used all these words that didn't even remotely make sense to her (although she'd make sure to remember that word… mouth breather?), she was almost sure she completely understood him. Papa had used this word a couple of times, impressive, which she thought was a good word to explain Mike's behavior. Papa had always asked her to impress people because then the people would give him money so that he wouldn't have to bring her back to the empty room. She guessed Mike now wanted to impress her so that… well, maybe he was afraid she wouldn't like him. But that wasn't true. She did like him. In fact, the sensation of someone wanting to impress her awoke a certain feeling in her – a warm kind of feeling she'd never encountered before, although it felt so good.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"I understand." she said, nodding to stress the last word.

"Oh." He seemed surprised. "Okay, cool."

She smiled. "Cool."

They continued their search through the forest, making sure to check every tree and bush they came across, although it became more difficult as the sun was slowly starting to set and the shadows were growing. As they started to enter the area surrounding the Byers house, Mike turned around and shouted: "Hey, found anything yet?"

"Nope!" Dustin shouted back. "But I swore I saw something moving just now!"

"That was a squirrel, you idiot." Lucas replied, rolling his eyes.

"Well, how are you so sure?"

"Because it had a tail."

"So?" Dustin asked, sounding offended. "You couldn't even see it clearly."

"Oh, let me correct then, sir: it was the shadow of a squirrel," Lucas replied again, rolling his eyes even more dramatically. As the two continued their bickering, Mike sighed and turned to Eleven again. "Well, I'm sure that helps a lot."

Eleven didn't respond.

"Do you think we're close now?"

"Yes," she said. "Close."

"Okay, good." He took a deep breath and squeezed the handles of his bike. "Do you remember how he looked when you saw him? Like, did he look okay?"

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Well. Healthy. I don't know, he probably looked scared, but did he look good from the outside?"

She just stared at him, her brown eyes curiously studying his face. He sighed and nearly felt the urge throw his hands into the air, but timely remembered he was holding a bike. "You know what, never mind. Just show us where he is."

She nodded and increased her pace a bit, now more leading instead of just walking along. They kept walking through dense forest for a while, but as the tip of the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon and the sky turned a deep crimson red, the loose leaves under their feet gradually turned into gravel. By the time it was practically dark, they suddenly were out of the woods and stood on a open terrain, just a stone throw's away from the cozily lit Byers house.

"Here," Eleven said.

Catching up with her, Mike stood beside her as the wheels of his bike came to rest. "Yeah, this is where Will lives."

She looked at him. "Hiding."

"No, no, this is where he lives. He's missing from here. Understand?"

Dustin and Lucas finally caught up with them as well, both slightly panting from their last sprint – and now both regretting the decision to have a discussion about whether someone would die from hydration after four days or one week in the meanwhile. "What are we doing here?"

"She said he's hiding here." Mike said.

"Um, no!" Dustin piped up. "I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing…"

"That's exactly what we did!" Turning to Mike, Lucas sneered: "I told you she didn't know what the hell she was talking about!"

Mike ignored him. He wasn't exactly sure whether he truly believed Eleven was right or he just wanted her to be right – but either way, she had a reason for bringing them here. "Why did you bring us here?"

"Mike, don't waste your time with her." Lucas said as he reached an arm out. Mike slapped it away. "What do you want to do then?"

"Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday."

"Listen. We are not calling the cops," Mike said, unconsciously stepping in front of Eleven.

"Uh, hey, guys?" Dustin asked.

"What other choice do we have?" Lucas asked, now stepping forward as well. "Do you want to keep walking around with her? What if they arrest us for helping a lunatic?"

"She's not a lunatic!" Mike yelled.

"She closed a door with her mind!"

"Why do you have to be such an ass-"

"Guys!" Dustin screamed, his voice breaking. Both boys looked over to him, nearly in position to go at each other throats. Eleven cowered behind Mike's back. It was funny; Dustin just had to stick up one finger, and they immediately forgot their fight and went to stay beside him.

Lucas was the first to speak up: "What the hell is that?"

"A meteor, or something?" Dustin asked.

At first they all agreed it was a meteor as it was too bright to make out a clear form, but when it started to approach them, they weren't so sure anymore. They watched in awe as the object plummeted down, weird, feather-like flaps on its sides. It fell for two more minutes or so before it finally reached the top of the forest and went crashing through the branches. They heard a loud crash when it fell on the ground, then listened as the silence abruptly settled down again. The crickets were sort-of-scary to listen to on their own.

Dustin was certain: "Definitely a meteor."

"No, I don't think so." Mike said. "It looked like a person. I think we should check it out."

"What are you talking about?" Lucas asked. "If it was a person, they're good as dead. No one survives a fall that high."

"Well, we could just… have a look right?"

"I kinda want to see a corpse," Dustin chimed in.

"Man, that's just sick." Lucas looked up as though he asked what madness he was getting himself into before he let out a deep sigh. "Alright then. We just look. But if they're dead, and they will be, we go straight to the police to report it, alright?"

Dustin nodded. "Fine by me."

Mike turned around to see what Eleven had to say about their new discovery, but she seemed surprisingly comfortable with it all, just studying them with curious eyes. He then sighed and finally gave in: "Okay, let's do it."

Setting out to find the mysterious person that fell to earth, they walked back into the woods, leaving the warm lights of the Byers house behind as the crunching of the leaves under their feet slowly faded away.