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"Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now"

I'm so glad I found you, I'm not gonna lose you

Whatever it takes I will stay here with you

- Starship

Hopper drove up to the front parking lot of the lab. It was eerie to see all the cars parked there and know that their owners would never be coming out to drive them home. He wondered how many people were employed here, and how their deaths would be explained.

He and Eleven got out of the truck. As he dug through the back for the gun, she stood there looking up at the building. It occurred to him that this was the first time she'd been back since she had escaped—likely the first time she had ever seen it from the outside.

The demodogs were still in there; he could hear them screaming. "You let me do the heavy lifting up front, all right? Save your strength until we get below."

She didn't respond, her eyes still roaming over the building. As he often did, he wondered what she was thinking. But there wasn't time to talk about it. Not now. Maybe later.

"You okay?"

For answer, she started toward the front doors, leaving Hopper to follow her.

He kept his eyes averted from the bloody figure in scrubs that lay on the floor. Someday, he would see that Bob got his full due for his heroism today—but for that to happen, they had to make it through and get the gate closed.

The hallways were silent, lit only by blinking emergency lights. Bodies lay sprawled where they had fallen. Hopper kept the gun up and the flashlight trained ahead of them, moving it enough to be sure nothing waited for them in the shadows. Eleven followed just behind him.

He took a turn down into the stairwell he and Owen had used to escape the basement earlier. The landing below him was smeared with blood, the railings covered with it.

"Stay here," he whispered, moving cautiously down to the landing and turning to look down the next flight of stairs. "Oh, shit."

Owens was there, leaning against the wall, covered in blood. He was alive—barely, but still there. Hopper approached him, unslinging the gun. "Hey, Doc."

Opening his eyes, Owens nodded to acknowledge Hopper's presence.

He had an open wound in the leg, but appeared otherwise unharmed. If loss of blood didn't kill him, which it very well might, he had a decent chance. Assuming any of them had any chance to get out of here.

"Those suckers got you pretty good, huh?"

Owens gestured toward the door, but didn't have the strength to speak.

"It's okay. Don't talk. Don't talk. I got you." He unzipped his coat so he could get at his belt, pulling it out of the belt loops. "I got you, I got you," he repeated, wanting to keep Owens awake. If he lost consciousness—well, that was likely all she wrote. He started wrapping the belt around Owens' leg.

Glancing over Hopper's shoulder, the doc froze, his face paling even more than it already was, as if he had seen a ghost. Hopper glanced back to see that Eleven had followed him. No wonder Owens was startled.

"Oh, yeah. I've been meaning to tell you. This is Eleven. Eleven, Doc Owens; Doc Owens, Eleven. She's been staying with me for … about a year. And she's about to save our asses."

Owens looked as though many pieces of a puzzle he'd been trying to put together had finally slipped into place.

Hopper waited until Owens was looking at him, holding the doc's gaze. "Maybe when this is all said and done, maybe you could help her out, too, you know? Maybe you could help her lead, like, a normal life. One where she's not poked and prodded and treated like some kind of lab rat, you know. I don't know. It's just a thought." He pulled the belt tight just above Owens' wound. With luck, the tourniquet would slow the bleeding enough to keep the doc alive a little longer. Maybe even long enough to set Eleven free, officially and completely.

He grasped the doctor's shoulder. "Think about it."

Owens nodded, leaning his head back against the wall. He was weary and in pain, but Hopper thought it looked like he would live. He found he was kind of relieved … as long as Owens was willing to play ball later.

He handed the doc his side pistol. "Don't go anywhere."

The sound Owens made was almost a laugh.

Hopper got to his feet and he and Eleven continued down the stairs, toward the gate.

And then they reached it. The familiar basement. The double doors. The flakes floating in the air. And the sound of one of those creatures up ahead.

"Stay here," Hopper told her.

He went around the corner, putting the flashlight away so as not to draw the creature's attention too soon, and eased his way down the hall, stopping at the door. He used his knife to create a reflection so he could see into the room.

There they were. Not just one, but all of them. On the other side of the shattered windows, just … sitting there. Waiting. Waiting to be called to do their master's bidding.

He thought of Will, wondering how things were going with him, hoping this day didn't end with Joyce losing her son.

She had her job, and he had his, which was to clear a path through those things so Eleven could get to the gate and close it.

"One. Two. Three," he whispered to himself, hoping on three he would have the guts to turn that corner.

Somehow he managed it, entering the room with the gun up, ready to shoot. One of the demodogs looked up at him, its strange flower-like face opening.

But before it could attack, or even communicate with the others, they all started screaming and shaking as if they were in some kind of pain. Then they turned and all but threw themselves down the hole into the tunnels.

Hopper couldn't believe it. They were gone. The path was clear.

Eleven came around the corner, looking past him at the gate. She hadn't seen it since it was opened—it was much, much bigger now.

The walkie-talkie at his hip crackled to life. "Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?" Jonathan's voice.

"Yeah, I copy."

"Close it."

Even as he put the walkie away, Hopper and Eleven looked at each other. The others' task was done. Theirs was just beginning.

They climbed onto the car, operating the mechanism to take them down, down, along the seam of the gate. As they descended, Eleven reached for Hopper's hand, holding it tightly. He hoped she knew that he was here for her, that he wasn't going to leave her, no matter what happened.

Once they were about in the center of the space, he punched the button to stop the car, looking down at Eleven. She was nervous, and scared, but determined. Hopper nodded at her.

Eleven let go of his hand. She took a deep breath, preparing herself, and then reached out a hand. It shook with the force of her will, as she used the power of her mind to try to pull the gate closed.

In front of them, a massive head appeared on the other side of the gate. Shadowy and indistinct, it looked as though it were made of fire. The—what was it the kids had called it? The Mind Flayer.

Eleven's hand trembled violently, and Hopper could see the trickle of blood begin to flow from her nose. The edges of the gate began to fill in. He couldn't believe it. He had known this was what she intended to do, what she could do—but it was a whole other thing to watch her do it.

She was bleeding from both nostrils now, but her focus was steady, and she was very calm. The gate continued to close, but the giant monster hovered just on the other side, and Hopper couldn't believe he was going to just stand there and let this happen.

And sure enough, he heard a screech. The demodogs were back.

He had only just gotten the gun up again when one of them was on the roof of the car, poking its head over the side. He shot it multiple times, until it screamed and let go and dropped off the car. Another one leaped up, trying to pull itself inside the car. Coming after Eleven. He shot that one off, but the others were coming, climbing up the walls. He wasn't going to have enough bullets.

Hopper shot a few more off the wall, but then the gun was out. While he was fumbling for the shotgun, another one threw itself at the car. He kept at them with the shotgun, making each slug count. All he had to do was hold them off long enough for Eleven to finish closing the gate.

He could hear her breathing over the sound of the gun, coming fast, in sobs. He hoped she could keep going, but he didn't dare turn away from the demodogs. He had to trust her. For once in his life, he had to trust someone else to do the heavy lifting while he provided support.

She screamed in rage, and he could feel the car vibrate with the force of her power. Now he couldn't help but turn to look. She had lifted herself completely into the air, and she hung there, screaming, both hands outstretched, while her power battled with a stream of light coming from inside the gate. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pushed it back, until it was through, and the gate was closed. It was over.

Around them, the demodogs fell into the pit for the last time. Eleven collapsed, and Hopper caught her in his arms before she could hit the ground, lowering her gently, holding her close. She had done it. She had done it, and she was alive, and he could take care of her, make it all up to her, be the father he had never had the chance to be. The family she had never had.

"You did good, kid," he murmured, holding her close. "You did so good."