A Second Try

Hawkins, IN

June 11, 1986

The next morning, Eleven was startled to discover she was still wrapped up in her nest on the couch. Normally, even when she fell asleep out in the living room, Hopper would move her to bed sometime during the night. Looking around, she spotted him fast asleep in his chair, the entire pile of journals stacked on the table next to him. It warmed her even more to know that he had gone back and read them from the beginning after she fell asleep, to know her full story. She had woken up at one point and silently watched him reading until sleep overtook her once more. Not wanting to wake him, she quietly untangled herself from the blanket pile and headed down the hall to take a shower.

Over breakfast, Hopper watched her with concerned optimism. She seemed to be handing everything she had heard extremely well. That made enough sense for her own journals, but he was surprised at how well she was dealing with all she had learned about her new sister. Sibling rivalry could be a nasty business in the most normal, well adjusted families. In this case, kept apart and secret from each other, on top of Brenner's carefully orchestrated preferential treatment of Twelve, he wouldn't have been the least surprised if Eleven held some level of jealousy or a grudge.

"So how are you doing, really?" he finally asked. "I know that was a lot to deal with last night."

She thought about it for a moment, before deciding, "Okay, I guess. Confused. A little sad." She hesitated, before continuing, "I knew Papa was bad. It shouldn't surprise me he was a liar too."

"What about Twelve?" he asked. He could tell there was something she was holding back, possibly even from herself, and he didn't want to leave for the station until they had uncovered what it was. He didn't want it to eat away at her all day while no one was around. As soon as the words left his mouth, he could tell he had found what he was looking for.

He watched as her face fell once more while her mind formed the question that had been swirling around for days now; possibly for years.

"Did Papa love me?" she asked, fighting the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes once more. She was getting tired of crying all the time. Mike had said tears helped you to feel better when something makes you sad or overwhelmed, but lately they were just leaving her feeling weak and small.

Hopper sat frozen at the question, unsure how to answer. He had formed a pretty good idea of Brenner's thoughts regarding both girls while reading through his personal journals. At the same time, how could he look her in the eyes and tell her the truth? Brenner, for all his evil, had literally been her entire world, particularly in her later years before she escaped. Even years later, fully aware of the realities of the world, he still had a powerful hold in her heart and mind. Her mantra ran through his head once more; friends don't lie. He had to be honest with her.

He pulled his chair around the table and sat next to her, wrapping one of her hands in both of his. "No. I don't think he did."

He waited to see how she would react. The start of a single sob caught in the back of her throat but she cleared it with a deep breath. He went on, "I also don't think he loved Twelve. I think he was a manipulative man who calculated the exact right things to say, and not say, to both of you to try and achieve the goals of his twisted experiments. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she whispered, sadly.

"I'm sorry, Jane," he soothed, putting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. "I really am."

She slowly pushed her chair back from the table. "I think I want to go back to bed."

"Okay," he said. "I'm going to go get dressed. I'll come tuck you in before I leave for the station. Sound good?"

"Yes," she said, giving an almost halfway happy smile.

After climbing into a fresh uniform and strapping his holster back onto his waist, he headed down the hall to Eleven's room. He gently knocked and pushed the door open. She had built a fresh blanket nest on her bed and climbed inside, cocooning herself against the world. He also couldn't help but notice that she had grabbed the spare pillow from the hall closet, the one Mike had used the night he stayed over, and was currently hugging that in place of her bear. At this point, if the fleeting presence of that boy had any beneficial effect on her, he welcomed it. As he sat on the edge of the bed, she opened one eye to look up at him.

"I'm heading off to the station now," he began. "If you need anything at all today, call me. Please."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'll be alright," she said, working up another half smile.

"Is there anything special you would like for dinner tonight?"

She shrugged; nothing really sounded good at the moment, "Whatever you want."

"Okay. But seriously, anything at all, call me." He leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead, "I love you, Jane."

"I love you too, Daddy"

He stood and walked out, half closing the door as he went. The whole drive to work, a thought nagged at the back of his mind. He hoped he was wrong, and he knew there would be nothing he could do about it if he was right. As he parked, he mouthed a quick prayer to whatever power might be listening, "Please don't let her go looking for Brenner and the girl."

After getting another hour of sleep, Eleven snapped awake with a renewed purpose. Papa had taught her how to use her gifts to find people, wherever they might be. He taught her how to watch and listen and figure out what they were up to. Now, she was going to use her gifts to find him; to figure out what he was up to. If he was trying to hurt people, he would have to be stopped. If he was looking for her, or Daddy, or Mike, or any of her friends, he would have to be stopped. If he was minding his own business, she would leave him alone and try her very hardest to forget about him, and her sister.

If she was being honest with herself, she was actually more curious about her sister than Papa. She had seen her just the one time, finding Papa that first night, but she felt she knew all there was to know about her after reading Papa's journals. At the same time, this girl with her face, was still a mystery. Eleven knew that she, herself, was a very different girl than the picture that Papa's notes had painted. She figured that Twelve would probably be the same.

Not knowing how far she would have to reach to find them again, she turned her radio on to static and pulled the blindfold down over her eyes. Curious what would happen, she focused not on the image of Papa, but of the girl in the photos. It felt strange, as though she were trying to find herself out in the In-Between, but after a few minutes of searching, she came into focus. As it turned out, she could have searched either for her, or for Papa. When the world around Twelve began to resolve, Eleven realized that Papa was standing right there next to her. They were outside of a small white house, clearly waiting for someone. Papa checked his watch with obvious annoyance.

Sensing that this was home for them, Eleven pulled her focus back further to take in more of the surroundings and try to get an idea of where they were. The names McChord and Washington came forth into her mind. She filed these names away for later, once she decided just what she was going to do with these two. Focusing back in once more, she watched as a black four-door car pulled up. A man in a dark green uniform - like the men who used to guard the lab wore - got out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for Papa and Twelve. As they climbed in and settled into their seats, Eleven pushed her focus into the car with them, settling somewhere in the middle of the front seat, looking back at them.

As the car began to move once more, she watched Papa pull a stack of folders out of his briefcase and begin to read through the paperwork inside. Twelve occupied herself by watching out the window. Not far from the house, they passed a large paved field lined with airplanes and Eleven realized that this place, McChord, must be an airport. She had seen planes several times watching the evening news with Hopper, but seeing these huge gray aircraft in person, she could only stare in awe at their immense size. Soon, their car fell in line with several large, dark green trucks, and together they made their way onto the highway.

For the next two and a half hours Eleven sat in silence, just watching Papa and her sister. Throughout most of the drive, Papa kept his eyes focused on page after page of documents, occasionally penning a note into the margins. Twelve, on the other hand, spent the majority of the ride in silence, alternating between watching the scenery going by and inspecting her special set of knives. She would unroll the bundle, slip one out, float it up, give it a gentle spin, and then return it to its proper sleeve. Several times, she had looked longingly at radio in the car's dash, but kept her silence and didn't ask for music. For the most part, she simply looked bored. The drive took them up through a mountain pass, long clear of snow as the early summer sun beat down. As they approached a second set of smaller ridges, Twelve began to look nervous. Realizing they were getting close to their destination, Papa put away his paperwork as well and turned to look at Twelve for the first time since leaving home.

"So you understand today's game, right?" he asked.

"Yes Papa," she smiled, pleased that she was finally able to speak again. Papa got very angry when she interrupted his work, so she knew better than to speak while he was reading.

"We have a limited number of tries today. General Peters wasn't as open to the idea of further testing as he was the first time, but I told him how much you have been practicing and how much stronger you are than last month," he said, pouring on the praise in hopes of boosting her confidence enough to make some real progress. "We have two of the smaller ones for warm up. These are the ones you could hold back last time. After that, I was able to get us six of the bigger ones that you couldn't quite do. I know you can do it this time."

"I'll do it this time Papa, I know I can do it." she responded, fighting to hide the doubt in her voice.

Eleven sat and stared in puzzlement, trying to guess at just what this test was going to be. It had to be something big and secret if they were having to drive for hours out into the middle of nowhere to do it. She could almost feel the nerves radiating off of Twelve as they turned off the highway and onto a dirt road leading out into an empty, barren landscape. Eleven was actually beginning to feel sorry for her sister, who was clearly afraid that she would fail Papa's test. He had mentioned her failing this particular test before; had she been punished in the dark room for her failure or was that another one of the ways Papa treated them differently?

Not far off the highway, the trucks turned off into a wide clearing, while the car continued down the road for several more miles. They passed an area with large holes that looked to Eleven like they had been burned into the ground. A little beyond, the car slowed to a stop and Papa and Twelve climbed out. The man in the driver's seat got out and retrieved a dark green backpack from the trunk, passing it to Papa before getting back behind the wheel. Papa then handed it over to Twelve.

"Here you go. Just like last time, some water and lunch." He pulled a slip of paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her, "and here is the schedule. The first launch will be at 11:45. That gives you 15 minutes to get ready."

Eleven watched as he placed both hands on her shoulders, then a moment later, pulled her into a hug. "You're going to do great today. I know you can do it, Twelve. I'm so proud of you."

As he released her from the embrace, Twelve smiled brightly back, "Thank you Papa!"

Eleven stood stunned at the display of affection, so out of character for the Papa that she knew. The closest he had come to hugging her in all their years in the lab was when he carried her back to her room on the occasions where the tests left her too drained to walk. Her focus was quickly pulled back to the present as she realized Papa was climbing back into the car and she had to choose whether to say with Twelve, or go with him. In the end, she decided to get back in the car with Papa, knowing that she could always bring herself back here if she needed to. They drove on in silence until they wound to the top of a ridge overlooking the vast field of burned holes. Standing at the edge of the field, Eleven could just make out Twelve, pacing nervously and checking her watch.

Eleven shifted her focus to see Papa's watch and saw it was 11:46, one minute after the time Papa had indicated. As she turned back toward the waiting Twelve, she heard a tremendous roar rising up over the silent desert hills. Suddenly, a large tube appeared over a hill at the far end of the field, propelled through the sky by a massive growling flame. She could only only watch in frozen fascination as Twelve squared off her shoulders, reached a hand toward the sky, stretched forth with her mind and stopped the projectile in mid-air. She guided it to the ground and held it safely just above the dirt until the powerful flame was exhausted. Already in awe over her sister's display of raw power, Eleven was stunned when the tube suddenly erupted in every direction into a billowing explosion. It looked as though it would tear apart everything in its path, but before it could spread, an invisible shield seemed to materialize around the blast and hold it in. It pressed tighter at the sides until the whole explosion compressed to a single, brilliant point of light and was gone. Twelve finally let the twisted remains of the tube fall to the ground.

Elven stood there astonished; she had never seen anything like it. She couldn't help but be nervous for her sister; was all of that supposed to happen or had she done something wrong? Eleven could remember a time when she had focused to hard on the test Papa wanted her to perform and she had overloaded one of the pieces of equipment used to monitor her brain. Papa had been very angry that day and sent her immediately back to her room. This time, though, Papa looked nothing but pleased by what he had just seen. She looked down once more at her sister, already preparing for the next trial.

Eleven decided she wanted to see this next demonstration up close and shifted her focus down next to her sister in the field. She was startled to discover that Twelve did not appear to be drained at all, already listening intently for the roar of the next missile coming up over the horizon. As it came into view, she once more raised a hand skyward, directing all her thoughts on to projectile streaking through the sky. While it was the same size as the prior, the soldiers preparing it for launch had configured it with a faster cruise speed; another of Papa's little tests. For a moment she feared she would miss the grab, but she managed to hold on and once more guide it safely down. As before, she threw her whole being into surrounding the blast and holding it in. Up close, Eleven could see the near anguish on her sister's face; she was containing it but only barely. As the flames winked out of existence, Twelve dropped to one knee, panting hard to catch her breath. Two streams of blood dripped from her nose, falling to the ground unnoticed.

"If that was the warmup, what is the real test?" Eleven wondered.

Checking her watch and consulting the schedule, Twelve quickly dug the water and some kind of bar wrapped in foil out of her pack. She drained two large swallows of water as she ripped the foil open. Biting off a chunk of the sticky brown bar inside, she folded over the package and stuffed everything back into the bag.

Deciding to remain down in the field for the first real test, Eleven took a closer look at her sister. She still couldn't get over how much it felt like looking at her own reflection in a mirror, but there were differences. The most obvious was the hair. Twelve kept her hair cut a little shorter than her shoulders and wore it in two tight braids. After years of enduring short buzzed hair, Eleven had refused any significant haircuts, though she had allowed Mrs. Byers to trim the ends a few times to keep everything looking neat. Twelve was more fit and muscular than Eleven, owing principally to a lifetime of better food and physical activity, though Eleven had improved considerably in her time free from captivity. What caught Eleven's attention the most were her eyes. There was a sparkle to them, a liveliness, but behind that, fear. Fear of what, Eleven couldn't tell. Whether it was fear of failing, of punishment, or letting down Papa, it was there, paining her all the same.

As the next missile came up over the hill, Eleven could spot immediately that this one was much different than the first two. To her untrained eyes, it looked twice as large and was painted a deep black; a dark shadow against the clear blue sky. She could almost feel Twelve tense up as she readied her grasp once more. She threw one hand up to grasp the projectile and knew at once it wouldn't be enough. She raised her other hand, focusing all she had on gaining control. Agonizingly, she brought it down to the ground and steadied herself for what was coming next. She wrapped her mind around the blast, holding it as long as she could, but just like last month, the explosion broke through, tearing apart the desert floor beneath it. Across the distance and through their connection, Eleven was certain she could feel the heat issuing forth from the inferno. Twelve ducked as a chunk of rock went tumbling through the air past her head.

Eleven watched as her sister fell to her knees, drained from exertion. Her heart broke for this girl she so desperately wanted to hate. Curious as to how Papa would react she sent her conscious back to the top of the ridge, where she found him staring furiously down at the girl below, just rising to her feet once more. His hands were clenched, nails biting into his palms. She knew the look well and found her thoughts immediately transported back to the lab. She could remember that same angry face staring back at her through the glass as he ordered his men to drag her away to the dark room.

There was a pause now, to let Twelve regain her strength and focus before tackling another launch. Soon, it was time for the second missile. As before, she grasped it from the sky but failed to get a hold around the accompanying explosion. On the third, she managed to surround the blast and even began to press it in upon itself before she once again lost control. Before the fire even died out, Papa stormed over to the soldier standing near him on the ridge and demanded his radio. He called down to the men preparing the next launch and instructed them to dial back the speed and cut the burn time by several seconds, in hopes that she would have additional strength left over to contain the blast. On the fourth launch, which should have been easier, her exhaustion took a firm hold and she could barely wrestle the projectile to the ground, much less contain the resultant blast. Brenner again demanded they dial back the force of the launch, grumbling that if she couldn't contain a blast of this size, their project was done for.

Eleven pulled back in horror upon hearing that. After reading through all those files, she knew what happened to the experiments that failed Papa too many times. She might be killed or she might have her brain fried and be turned out into the world, a lost and empty shell. Unable to bear another minute on the ridge, Eleven sent her mind back down to wait by her sister. The transformation that had come over the girl was incredible. She was pale and drained, looking somehow years older than she had an hour before. All spark was gone from her deep brown eyes, now left red and raw by the tears she could no longer hold back. The drops fell freely, carving traces in the dust that covered her face. All Eleven wanted to do was hold this girl, the sister she hadn't even known existed two weeks earlier; the sister she couldn't decide if she loved or hated, perhaps a little of both.

As the roar of the next launch began, Twelve took a final dusty wipe at her eyes and readied herself once more. She ground her feet into the dirt, getting a firm stance. She squared up her shoulders and raised both hands skyward, prepared and waiting long before it came into view. She grabbed with all her might and wrestled it down to the ground and tried to throw her force around it. Eleven could see the panic cross her face as she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it in, even before the blast began. She gritted her teeth, the blood streaming from her nose and ears.

Eleven couldn't stand watching her in such torment and did the only thing she could think of. She didn't know if it would even work, but she stepped over to her sister and laid both hands on her shoulders. Concentrating with all her might, she willed ever ounce of her own strength into her sister and through her outstretched arms. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, wondrously, the ball of fire began to shrink. The sisters pushed onward, their shared strength containing the blast until it fizzled away to nothing.

Twelve stood in amazement and stared down at her hands. She had done it. She had thought she was going to fail once more, felt her grip beginning to fail, and suddenly she had felt an amazing burst of strength to get through it. She had actually succeeded. For the first time since the warm up shots, she hazarded a look up to the ridge where Papa stood watching. Across the distance, she could see his smile. She had made him proud again. Her heart swelled as she readied herself for one more blast. She could do it again, she just knew it.

Eleven was worried now. "What have I done?" she asked herself. She had helped her sister get through Papa's test, but what then? Now he would expect her to be able to do it again and probably go even bigger. She knew at once she was going to have to be ready to help again, at least to get her through today. Feeling drained herself, Eleven watched enviously as Twelve unwrapped the last bar in her pack and tore off a large bite. She stood again and squared her stance, the roar of flame already growing in the distance. Eleven took her place right behind her sister and waited. Twelve reached forth and grabbed the missile and started to pull it down. Almost immediately, her grip faltered and the projectile began to break free. Bypassing her sister's shoulders, Eleven reached out and tried to grab the missile directly. Amazingly, she found that it had worked and soon she felt Twelve's own grip regain control of the warhead. Together they lowered it to the ground and wrapped a protective cushion around the blast.

Both girls were utterly spent by the ordeal, and Eleven could feel her connection beginning to fade. As the image began to blur, she watched as Papa rode back down off the ridge and greeted Twelve, telling her just how proud he was of her. He wrapped her into a firm hug and kissed her forehead before helping her back into the car.

Pulling the blindfold off, Eleven looked over at the clock, startled that it already read 4:30. She had spent over seven hours in the In-Between, and had used a tremendous amount of power helping her sister, twice. It far surpassed any amount of time she had spent in that realm previously, even when secretly attending classes to get caught up for starting school. In spite of all that, she didn't feel particularly bad; a little tired perhaps, but not as drained as she would have been even a year before, attempting something like that. Maybe she actually was getting stronger all the time, just like Daddy had said she would.

Remembering him suddenly, she realized he would be home from the station any time now. She ran to her window to ensure that he hadn't come home already, relieved to find only their car in the driveway and his department Blazer still missing. There would have been a lot of explaining to do if he had found her off following Papa through the desert. She wasn't ready to tell him about what she had found; not until she had a chance to work out her own thoughts about it. Rushing to the bathroom to check her face, she was astonished to find there was very little blood dried under her nose; both nostrils had bled a bit, but nothing from her ears. As she finished washing up and checking that she was presentable, she heard him pull into the driveway.

She walked out onto the front porch to greet him, and was pleased to see he had picked up one of her favorites for dinner; burgers, fries and chocolate shakes. She giggled has he held them up, announcing that he had gotten one of their "let's be fat" dinners. As they sat at the table, grease threatening to drip from their chins, she reached across and grabbed his hand.

"Thank you, again," she said. "For last night. And for not being mad."

Unsure what to say, he gave her a smile and squeezed her hand.

After dinner, Hopper had some paperwork to finish up so he settled in to work on that while Eleven busied herself with a few cleaning chores she was supposed to have been working on the last couple days. Distracted by thoughts of the day, she completely missed getting in touch with Mike at their usual time. Around 8:00, she began to get curious about what Papa and Twelve were up to. Would they have returned to the little white house already or were they still out in the desert? Deciding that a quick peek couldn't hurt, she told Hopper she was feeling gross from the cleaning and how hot it was, so she was going to take a shower before bed. Locked in the bathroom, with the shower providing enough background noise to focus, she sent her mind back out to find them.

Zeroing in on Papa first, she found him in his office in the little white house, writing notes about the day's events in a journal, much like the ones in the box out in the living room. She decided it made sense that he would have started new files for Twelve after having to leave the old ones behind in the lab. After reviewing what he had written, he closed the journal and flipped open an identical looking volume and began writing again, leaning low over the paper as though he were having difficulty reading the things he was putting down. After a few minutes of watching him write, she decided to check on her sister instead. Pulling back and then zooming in once more, she found her alone at the kitchen table, eating a plate of spaghetti and looking bored and exhausted from the day's trials. Eleven couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl once more. Not only was she eating alone, there was no visible entertainment to occupy her mind or relax with; no magazines, no TV, no music, nothing at all. Eventually, Twelve looked over at the bookshelf and reached out, floating over an old Army field manual and flipping it open to the section on determining safe plants to eat in a survival situation.

Knowing she couldn't stay too long without Daddy getting suspicious, Eleven pulled the blindfold off and got in the shower, relieved that the water had not gone cold while she was off in another dimension. As she scrubbed the day from her skin and out of her hair, her thoughts drifted back to her sister. To read Papa's journals, Twelve was a fierce warrior who could tackle any obstacle and lived a life of affection at his side. Witnessing that life up close, on the other hand, Eleven came to realize that she was still just a little girl afraid of displeasing her Papa and that even living by his side, she was isolated and utterly alone.

That night, her sleep was haunted by dreams once more, though not necessarily nightmares. Her mind was racing around trying to make sense of the last two weeks. Had it really been that short of a time? Two weeks ago she had been eagerly looking forward to her first real summer vacation. Papa had been dead and she had been her mother's only little girl. Now, as June was getting ready to pass its midpoint, her whole world had changed. It had changed on her before, several times in fact, but that didn't make it any easier. She awoke and decided her mouth felt dry, so she went and used the bathroom and got a drink of water. Climbing back into bed and checking the clock, she saw it was almost 11:00. Unable to hold back her curiosity, she pulled on the blindfold one more time to check on her other family.

She found them together again, in what she could only assume was Twelves room. It had bare white walls and a plain wood desk. On a shelf sat a little potted cactus with red flowers and the canvas bundle of knives she had been toying with in the car. Twelve sat in bed, the covers up to her stomach as she sat back against the headboard. Papa sat on the corner of her bed. Once more, he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. Somehow, seeing such affection from Papa at bedtime stung much worse than it had in the light of day.

"I'm so proud of you, Twelve," he said, looking deep in her eyes. "You did such a great job today. I love you."

"I love you too, Papa" she returned with a huge grin, happy that she had made Papa so proud.

Papa stood and walked toward the door, reaching for the light switch as he got close. Before he could flick the switch, Twelve reached out and pulled the switch down from across the room, with a little giggle. He smiled back at her as he went out and pulled the door shut behind him. Eleven couldn't deal with what she had just seen. A hug was one thing, but actually telling her he loved her? That was something he had never even come close to to doing with Eleven, as much as she had wanted to hear that sort of thing from her Papa. She was trying not to cry, refusing to succumb to that once more. Did Papa actually love Twelve? Daddy had said he didn't think so, and Daddy doesn't lie. Was it just something Papa was saying to get her to use her powers better? She thought that must be the answer and felt a little better.

She pushed her mind further and followed Papa down the hall, into his office. Again he sat to work through a stack of documents in folders. It seemed to Eleven that was all he did when he wasn't manipulating his girls into doing what he wanted. He sat for a few minutes, reading sheets of reports and jotting down notes in the margins once more. Without warning, he sighed and set down the report he was reading on his desk, laying the pen he was holding neatly top of it.

He looked up and stared across the room at nothing in particular, saying "It's not nice to spy on your Papa, Eleven."

She ripped the blindfold off and came back to the reality of her bedroom, her heart pounding hard and fast in her chest. How did he know that she was there? Had he known she had been there all day? Was that just something he said when he was alone, on the off chance she had come looking for him, just to get into her head and worry her?

She lay there for a long time just staring into the darkness, worried that she had just made a tremendous mistake. If she had underestimated Papa, had she just put the people that she loved in danger once more? Eventually, exhaustion overtook her and she slept, though fitfully, until dawn brought fresh and cheery light streaming through her window.