3.

Back home, El follows him through to his bedroom. Or, her bedroom, their bedroom, Will's not quite sure how they'll manage the sleeping arrangements now Argyle's left and Jonathan can't sleep in the van. She shuts the door behind her, which is so unusual for El that he knows he's in for an interrogation.

"What really happened?" she demands.

"Nothing! I told you, I just… had a moment of panic when I realised where we were."

"Friends don't-"

"I'm not lying, El!" It comes out louder than he'd expected and he's glad she shut the door now, with his mom and Hopper only rooms away. "I really don't like hospitals," he says, quieter this time, folding his arms protectively over his chest.

"Different," she accuses.

"What's different?"

"You." She pokes him in the chest.

"Me?" He turns away. There are several things she could be talking about on that topic. "What do you mean?"

"That was different to I-don't-like-hospitals."

Even though he has his back to her, he shakes his head. But his eyes sting; he knows she's close to getting it.

"It was 001, wasn't it?"

Will sighs. His arms fall limply by his side, defeated. "I don't know."

"You saw something."

He turns back around to face her. Her expression is earnest, a small crinkle between her brows, head tilted slightly to one side as she inspects him. "Yeah," he admits.

"Dustin said about the… trance," the word sounds unfamiliar on her tongue, "but that didn't happen to you."

"So maybe it wasn't him," Will suggests. El gives him a look full of scepticism. He sighs; it had sounded stupid to him too, way too much of a coincidence to be real.

"What did you see?"

"I…" he thinks, tries to remember, but the snippets of flashbacks don't last long enough for him to describe. He heads past El to his discarded backpack on the floor.

He retrieves the sketch pad that lives in there. It's only a basic one, thin pages, a poor paper quality, its main merit being that it's small enough to carry around with him at all times. Unlike the rest of the carefully chosen items he'd stowed away in his backpack before they'd left California, this one had already been there waiting for him. He rummages further into the bag for something to draw with; there's only pencils in there, but they will do for this purpose.

He carefully turns the pages, hoping El's not too close behind him to get a thorough look at his drawings. There is a mismatch of D&D characters, fantasy worlds from books or movies, and portraits of his friends. The party stare back at him from the page. There's a close up of dark eyes, of a splattering of freckles over a nose. He flattens the paper onto an empty page.

Kneeling on the floor with El beside him, he sketches out a rough silhouette. Lucas had been sat on a hard hospital chair, leaning forwards, his elbows on his knees, his head angled towards Max. Will draws Lucas's hair in its new style and adds in the laces on his shoes, the closed book on his lap, the swelling around his eye. None of the details were needed for what he's trying to show El, but it's a good way to delay what comes next.

With a quick glance to her to check she's following, he turns back to his drawing. He presses harder this time, the pencil leaving dark indents as he drags it across the paper. The lines creep from the edge of his page to his sketch of Lucas in the middle. A line wraps around each leg, another circling his chest, pinning his arms to his side, a final one spiralling around his neck.

"Vines," El says, quietly.

"Yeah."

There's a long pause. He lets the pencil slip from his fingers and it falls to the floor with a clatter. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he worries about broken lead.

"You saw that?" Her finger ghosts around the edge of the drawing.

He nods. "But I don't think it was like a- a normal Vecna vision, if there's such a thing. Like you say, no trance. And the others, they said he shows you your worst memories, right? That's what he preys on." He frowns, he certainly has enough bad memories for Vecna to feed off. "So why didn't he do that to me?"

El looks up at him and he can see from her eyes that she has a theory.

"It happened when Lucas was crying?" she asks

"Yeah."

"001 goes after people who are sad."

"I know. But if he was targeting Lucas then why was it me who had the vision?"

"He's weak," El says thoughtfully. "Not strong enough. Hiding."

"So, he couldn't actually do it, he could just think about it." Will rubs at his forehead. He realises his head's been aching ever since they left the hospital. "And I saw what he was thinking through this… connection?" he spits out the last word bitterly.

"Or-" she frowns, looking worried, "It was the connection."

It feels like his heart has thrown itself up into his throat. "Wait, what-?" he splutters. "You mean it was the bit of him I can feel which was trying to get at Lucas? And that's why I saw it?"

"I think so."

"But I'm not possessed this time!"

El pauses. Her face remains completely still except for when she blinks.

He knows that look, it means she's deep in thought, and he doesn't like to imagine where her thoughts are going. "I'm not possessed," he insists.

"No," she says, eventually.

It's not much of a relief. "Then what is it?" he asks, reluctantly. "What aren't you telling me?"

"A… theory," she says, slowly. "001 was hurt. And now… you can feel him, but I can't find him. Maybe this," she points at his head, "is all that is left."

That night, Will doesn't even try to sleep. He lies on the makeshift bed in Jonathan's room, two blankets beneath him for padding and two on top for warmth, staring at the ceiling and wishing he was someone else.

Learning that it was Vecna all along was bad enough. El's theory that his connection is the only thing keeping him alive, is a million times worse. Guilt gnaws at his stomach. His mom and Jonathan and Mike all told him years ago, that none of the things he did when he was in control were his fault, and yet he's never truly been able to forgive himself for all those deaths. For Bob's death. And now, yet again, he's responsible for people being in pain. His friends had risked so much to try to kill Vecna. Max had gotten so hurt. And they would have succeeded if it weren't for him. If it weren't for Vecna clinging on through him, their sacrifice would have worked.

It makes him want to scream with frustration. But that would wake everyone and cause a scene, and he'd still be the same Will tainted by the Upside Down at the end of it all anyway. And so he does what he always does, makes himself as small as possible and tries to be normal.

Sometime later, his brother creeps into the room, making great effort to shut the door quietly but sniffing so loudly, Will's sure it would have woken him even if he had been asleep. Through the darkness, he watches his slouched silhouette, sees him wipe beneath his nose with the back of his hand.

"Jonathan?"

He visibly jumps. "What are you doing still awake? It's late."

"What are you doing just coming home?" he fires back.

"We don't all have a curfew," he replies, his voice soft. "Your turn, why are-?"

"I thought you were staying at Nancy's."

Jonathan sighs. He sits down next to him, on bare floor as Will's taken his blankets as well as his own. Will sits upright to meet his brother and passes him back one of the blankets so he can keep warm. He watches as Jonathan cocoons himself in it, only his head poking out the top and a few fingers as he holds it shut. Their house always seemed colder than his friend's houses, even without the influence of the Upside Down.

"We should have a hot chocolate right now, huh," Jonathan says.

"The gas is still off," Will reminds him.

"No, I mean- I know the gas is off. I just mean it feels like that's what we should be doing now we're back here in the cold. We used to have those mugs, you remember, they were so huge they were almost as big as your head when we first got them. And mom, whenever it was cold, she'd make us hot chocolates in them. And we'd sit on the sofa, all three of us wrapped up in blankets, drinking them to stay warm."

"I remember. And marshmallows in them sometimes for a treat."

"Yeah. And we'd watch a movie. You'd always get to choose which one, not matter how much I complained-"

"I never!"

"You did! But it never mattered because it was never really about the movie. Mom would talk through most of it anyway, asking about our days and how we did on our math tests and who I sat with at lunch and what drawing you were working on now."

Will smiles at the memory. "And we'd try to stop her and actually watch it, but she'd only last a few minutes each time, and eventually we'd give up too."

"Yeah, no matter how good the movie was, we'd always rather talk."

Will understands where Jonathan had been going with this now. He rolls his eyes, hoping it's dark enough for his brother not to see.

"So, are you going to tell me what's keeping you up at 2am?"

"Aside from the impending end of the universe?"

"Yeah, aside from that."

"Just… stuff. Nothing really."

Jonathan snakes an arm out of the blanket to grip his elbow. "You know you can tell me, don't you? You can talk to me about anything."

"I… I know, yeah."

"So…" He gives a nod which Will supposes was meant to be encouraging. "Is this about Mike?"

Will's heart leaps. He pulls his arm out of his brother's hold. "What?" Even after their talk in the Surfer Boy kitchen, it comes as a surprise. He must be more obvious than he thought, if Jonathan thinks Mike's the problem, rather than the monster inside his head.

Although… he toys with the edge of the blanket. Perhaps it's better to let Jonathan think that is the problem and protect him from the truth for a little bit longer.

"I just… I don't want to lose him, you know. As a friend."

"Is that what you're worried about?"

"Well… yeah. It was a bit awkward at first, when he got to California, I know you noticed. We'd drifted a bit. I don't think he missed me as much as I missed him." That's so close to the truth that Will has to break off to swallow down the pain before he can continue. "I just don't want there to be anything else that's like… the final nail in the coffin."

"Like what?"

Will shrugs. They both know what he's referring to, but he's not going to say it out loud.

"You should be able to be yourself around your friends, Will."

"I can!" he insists. "Most of myself, anyway."

"Will, c'mon!"

"You can't talk! You turned into, like, a completely different person once you became friends with Argyle. And now you're back with Nancy, you're going to, what, pretend that side of you doesn't exist?"

"Nancy and I broke up."

"What?"

Jonathan looks away, shivering slightly. "Uh, yeah. She ended things."

"Why?" Will rubs his brother's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Saw it coming. She says she wants a boyfriend who actually calls her. Who wants to go to college with her. And apparently she could smell the weed a mile off, so pretending I didn't smoke wasn't even an option."

"Forget I said that. I didn't mean it."

"No, it's fine. You're right. I know I've been smoking too much, that I've not been there for you like I should have been. And I'm sorry."

"No, Jonathan. Are you kidding me? That's not why I didn't like you smoking! You've been there for me my whole life, through everything. You're allowed a few months off. It's just… getting stoned? That's not you."

"Maybe I didn't want to be me for a bit."

It's painfully relatable but Will bites back his own emotions. This isn't about him this time. His big brother's just had his heart broken.

"I mean, me, dating Nancy Wheeler." He gives a bitter laugh. "Who did I think I was? That was never going to work."

"There's nothing wrong with you dating Nancy."

"She could do better."

"No," Will says, fiercely. It sounds loud in the quiet house. "No. You're the kindest person I know. You do so much for everyone – for me, mom, everyone. And you're funny too, sometimes anyway." He wrinkles his nose in jest. "Brave, definitely. And- and loyal-"

"Will, stop. It's not…" He wipes at his eyes. "You say that shit, and it means something coming from you. Clearly," he adds, indicating his tears. "But it's not enough. I wasn't a good boyfriend to her. And she wasn't perfect either, but…" He dips his head, failing to disguise a sob. "She's the only girl I've ever liked. And the only one who's ever liked me! I just… I think that's it. It was Nancy or no-one. And I screwed it all up."

Without meaning to, Will's mind goes to Mike and El and their breakup, Mike and El who must now be stronger than ever after Mike's declaration of love. He's about to try to offer Jonathan some reassurance that his breakup might only be temporary too, when he looks at his brother, quietly crying, and sees a vine creep up over his leg.

Will's heart seems to freeze. "No!" he says, loudly.

Jonathan looks up at him, confused.

"I- I mean-" Will tries to backtrack, to not cause a scene like he did at the hospital, but there's a vine on Jonathan's opposite side too now, another spiralling around his middle.

Will shuts his eyes, counts to three, and opens them, expecting it all to have gone away. It was over so quickly with Lucas. But instead, he sees Jonathan sprawled on the floor, vines tightly wrapped around his arms and legs, a thick, fat one constricting his chest, and the black one across his head the ugliest of all.

He throws himself at his brother, tearing wildly at the vines, trying to pull them off, desperate to free Jonathan before he gets hurt, or worse. The vines are stubborn and as he tries to pull them away, they tighten further, sucking against his brother's skin like leeches. The end of one of the vines flicks against Jonathan's cheek, moving fast, and Will gets a sudden flashback, a vine forcing its way between his lips and down his throat, the pain of choking as his oxygen supply rapidly vanished. He's not letting that happen to his brother. He fights harder, stronger, digging his nails beneath the vine and doing everything he can to get it off. He feels movement beneath his hands and his chest surges with hope. He can do this. He can do this.

But then he realises the movement is Jonathan is fighting him back.

"Will! Will!" he's shouting. "Stop! Get off! What's happening? Will!"

Will freezes and looks down at his brother. The vines have vanished. Jonathan lays beneath him, panting, scratches across his cheeks.

"Will," he says, breathlessly. "What happened? What was that?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?"

He crawls off his brother and sits beside him, arms around his knees. "There was…" he starts. "I thought… Didn't you-?"

"You just went for me, Will." Jonathan sounds scared and confused. "Is this… is this something to do with the Upside Down? It is, isn't it?" He scrambles upright, ignoring the blood on his cheeks. "Has he got you? Are you hurt?"

"No! No, it's-" he sighs, knowing a lie won't see him through this one. "It was just a vision. It's fine."

"A vision? We have to tell mom."

"El knows."

"We still have to tell mom."

Will groans. "But she'll worry."

"Yeah, with reason! I'm worried."

Will's shoulders slump. He hates this, being the cause of everyone else's problems. "I'll tell her. Just give me a day or two. Please." He gets to his feet, feeling surprisingly shaky. "Let me get a damp cloth, I'll help you clean your face. I'm so sorry, Jonathan."

"It's fine. Not your fault. But I'll clean my own face, thanks." He gives him a weak smile.

Will doesn't return it. He can't. "Okay. I'll just- I've got to go see El."

With a final look at the scratches he inflicted on his brother's face, he slinks out of the room and down the corridor. He hovers in the doorway to El's room, wishing he didn't have to wake her for this.

"El," he says, in a loud whisper.

Even at the low volume, she stirs, rolling over onto her back and rubbing sleepily at her eyes. "Will?"

"It happened again." His voice cracks and with it comes a rush of fear, the realisation of what it could mean.

"The vines?" she queries.

He goes further into the room and kneels on the floor next to her. He nods. "It was Jonathan. We were talking and he was… well, Nancy dumped him, so… And I saw them. All over him. And it was longer this time. With Lucas, it was just a glimpse, just a second, but this time-" he takes a shaky breath, trying to stay calm, "-this time it felt so real, like we were in the Upside Down, like the vines were really squeezing him, going to choke him to death, and-"

"Will," she says. She puts her hand on his. "It's okay."

"No, it's not!"

"I'm nearly ready. One more day. Then… piggyback."