Dustin sat on the armchair in his living room and looked at the phone, a feeling of dread knotting in his stomach. He wasn't looking forward to this call but he knew...he knew he needed to make it. Sighing one more time, he dialed the number for Lucas' cell.

Lucas didn't even have a house phone these days, always moving about, rarely in one place for more than two years. He was running, and Dustin knew it. Running from a childhood turned sour, from the strange nature of Hawkins, from the pain of what he saw. He left for college and never came back. Dustin and Will still kept in contact with him, but the calls were few and far between.

Lucas answered after three rings. "Hello?"

"Hey, man. It's Dustin." He hoped his voice sounded normal enough.

"Hey! What's up?"

"Oh, well, um...how are you doing?"

"I'm good. Still at the university. Still seeing Jenna."

"That's great!"

"Dustin..."

"...yeah?"

"What's going on? You sound weird."

"Um, yeah. So...are you sitting down?"

"Jesus man, just spit it out."

"Eleven's back." Dustin winced – too fast, too brash, he should have cushioned it more. Lucas didn't respond, but Dustin could hear his breathing, knew he was still listening. "She's still a kid. She's...she came right here. After we saw her...disappear in the classroom, she came right here. I don't think it's even been a full day for her yet."

Lucas continued to be silent. Dustin grappled with what to say next.

"She's staying with Will - you know how he has those foster kids now? Yeah, I guess one of them ran into her on Mirkwood today and brought her home. Kinda like...well, yeah. It's weird man, she's exactly the same. We - we told her about Mike but-"

"Stop," Lucas interrupted, his voice low but deadly.

"Lucas, we have to do something. I mean, she's here, what do we do with her? And I bet the gate's open somewhere if she was able to get here."

"Stop. I'm not doing this."

"Lucas."

"I don't want anything to do with her."

"You can't be serious."

"No Dustin, you can't be serious. You want to get involved again, fine. She's your problem. I can't…" He paused and Dustin could feel the anger through the phone. "She killed him. And I'll never forgive her."

Dustin didn't know how to respond, just sat silent.

"Don't call me about her again." Lucas ended the call without any goodbye.

Lucas knew it wasn't really her fault, knew she couldn't have done anything, but he could feel the tendrils of rage inside him. He felt a little guilty about it, but it was easier to blame her than…well, than to blame Mike. Plus, he never thought they'd see her again. It was easy to hate someone from afar and he'd been doing it for years. He tried not to picture the little girl he once knew, who was probably at this very moment terrified. Instead he let himself remember that night in '88, as he did every so often, usually with a few glasses of whiskey. He poured himself one now.

It was a November night, chilly with a large moon. They were at a bonfire party in the woods, which was odd for them. But Mike's lab partner had invited him and he insisted on going, so Lucas joined him. November was always hard for Mike and Lucas hoped this would be a fun distraction. He himself didn't drink (his dad would kill him), but Mike had a few beers. But he seemed strange all night and Lucas wondered if he had been drinking before they even went. After a while he suggested a walk in the woods and Lucas hoped it would help clear his head.

The walk was largely silent and at one point Lucas excused himself to pee. He had turned his back for 10 seconds, just a quick piss, only to find Mike gone. Calling for him, he walked out of the edge of the woods and saw Mike standing thirty yards away. At the edge of the quarry.

"Mike."

"You weren't here that day."

Lucas felt his stomach flip, knowing exactly which day Mike was referring to. "Mike, let's go back to the fire."

Lucas had thought things were better. The past few years...yeah, he was quieter now, more withdrawn than before, but he'd been better. There were some smiles now, less outbursts. He'd seem determined to move on. Mike looked back at his friend, swaying dangerously on the edge.

"She's in my dreams, Lucas. Every night. She's stuck there."

And that's when Lucas realized he'd been wrong. Mike had been determined - to find Eleven.

"Mike, please. Let's go back." He wanted to say more, to say that she was gone, that he was sad too, that he still cried about it some nights. But first he had to get his friend back to safety.

And then Mike laughed. He laughed and Lucas felt his heart freeze.

"Don't you hear her, Lucas? She's calling. She's here." Mike turned his head forward again and lightly stepped off the cliff as Lucas screamed. For that second, that second of in-between time, he prayed that Mike was right, that Eleven would come. One look at the water proved otherwise.

The rest of the night remained a blur. Lucas vaguely remembered the glow of police lights and vomit on his shoes. Afterwards he didn't get out of bed for a week. Everyone thought it had been an accident, a simple drunken mistake, and he let them. Dustin and Will were the only ones to know the truth and even then he didn't tell them everything. They didn't see Mike's face. They didn't hear the strange timbre of his voice, the last words he would ever say. And they didn't have that second of in-between, that moment of horror and hope. Lucas felt like he was stuck in that moment. It followed him from Indiana to Illinois to Wisconsin. It never left him.

The glass shattered easily as he threw it into the sink. He barely gave the shards a glance before leaving the room.