A/N: Okay, this is now officially the longest chapter. Sorry, but as the plot unfolds, I think they may be getting longer. Anyhow, I really hope you enjoy it and thank you, of course, for the faves, follows and feedback!


Jonathan

"It just came out of the tree in front of you?" Nancy asked. She was turned in the passenger seat, staring at him and hugging herself, despite the warmth in the car. Pavement chips ricocheted off of the Ford's underbelly as they sped down the street.

"Like it was made of fabric," Jonathan confirmed without taking his eyes off of the road. "It just tore through. I thought at first that the tree was falling. I was trying to cut it down—"

"I saw," Nancy interrupted. Jonathan glanced at her. "The axe," she explained. "And this," she said, holding out his flannel jacket. "It's how I knew you were there."

Jonathan nodded.

"Oh my God, Jonathan," Nancy whispered. "We were right." She watched out the windshield as they swerved around cars and trucks heading out of the city. Neither of them flinched at the angry horns blaring as they sped past. "So you went to the police?" she asked.

"To Hopper, yeah," he replied. "I mean, after I got Mom and Will out of the house. But then we went to the chief." They slowed at an intersection where a truck and an RV had collided, blocking a line of traffic. Jonathan took a sharp right, detouring them a few minutes, but putting distance between them and the parade of evacuating vehicles. "I couldn't just go to the police station. Hopper is the only one who would believe another one of those monsters is back."

Nancy stiffened. "Another? What do you mean 'another?'"

Jonathan exhaled slowly. "That's not the same one that attacked us last year. It's smaller, slower and weaker." He paused to let the idea sink in. "I think… I think this one is younger." He met her glance and slowed as they entered her subdivision. "And I think there's more than one, Nancy. The chief said over forty people have gone missing in less than two days."

Over the low hum of the car's engine, sirens still shook the city. "River Valley?" Nancy asked.

Jonathan nodded. "It's outside of Hawkins. It's just a temporary safe place while we figure out our next move, or wait for the government or national guard or whatever military force to take care of this." Three more cars skidded past, honking angrily. Jonathan watched them recede in the rearview mirror and added, "If over forty people are missing today, how many will be gone tomorrow or next week? How long before Hawkins is gone entirely? We need everyone to get as far from Hawkins and that department of energy lab as possible."

At the mention of the lab, Nancy was reminded of her dream and the ludicrous plan to break in. Smiling at the absurdity, the said, "I actually had a dream—" She cut herself short, remembering the rest of the dream. Jonathan glanced at her as he pulled onto her road. "How did you find me?" she asked, changing the subject.

Jonathan grabbed a black radio from next to his seat and held it up. It took her a moment to place where she'd seen it before, then recognized it as one of the boys' Walkie-Talkies. Jonathan pulled into her driveway and said, "Your brother told me you weren't home when I called him on this. Then I got lucky guessing where you might be."

Nancy swung open the car door as they rolled to a stop. "I'm the one that was lucky." She spun in her seat and that's when Jonathan first saw the slash down the left side of her back. Her shirt was torn, the edges of the fabric stained rusty with blood and beneath, her pale skin was inflamed and puckered around the wound. He heard her gasp when she stood up. Her fingers fluttered along the cut and she cringed at the hot stabs of pain.

Jonathan was outside of the car in an instant, standing by her open door and propping her up by her arm. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. His eyes were bright and sympathetic, his expression creased with worry. "I should have been there sooner."

"Nancy?" Mrs. Wheeler's frantic voice carried across the driveway as she bolted out the front door. Mr. Wheeler and Holly stayed inside, watching from the threshold. Jonathan held out his hand to stop her from embracing her daughter, but Mrs. Wheeler threw her arms around Nancy and reeled at the yelp of pain it caused.

"I fell," Nancy explained quickly. Karen still insisted on spinning her daughter around to gasp at the blood-tinged strips of fabric swaying in the breeze.

The Wheeler's station wagon was at an angle in the driveway. Its back hatch was wide open and Jonathan counted two coolers and three suitcases. Through the storm door, he saw Mr. Wheeler turn and walk back into the house. Holly's palms were pressed flat against the window, her eyes wide and attentive to her mother's every movement.

"We have to get you cleaned up," Mrs. Wheeler was saying. She took over Jonathan's position, cradling Nancy's elbow and steering her inside. "Do you know what's going on? The whole city is being evacuated."

"I know, Mom," Nancy replied, stepping up to the porch and pulling herself free. "I'm fine, really. I just need a new shirt."

Jonathan followed them inside quietly. The door snapped shut, muting the wailing sirens and echoing car horns. Holly stared at him uncertainly and snatched her mom's hand.

"Where did you find her?" Karen asked.

"Um…" Jonathan began.

Nancy interrupted, "I was walking home from Steve's. He was driving past and offered to give me a ride." She gave Jonathan the slightest nod.

"Uh, yeah," he agreed.

"We're going to River Valley," Nancy continued. Her mom pursed her lips. "It's one of the evacuation spots. Jonathan talked to Chief Hopper. His mom and brother are already there and a bunch of other people are meeting there, too."

"The chief is going to be there?" Mrs. Wheeler asked.

"Will's there?" Mike's voice piped from the kitchen. The sound of a phone hanging up revealed where he'd been. "What about Dustin and Lucas?" Mike appeared in the hallway holding his Walkie-Talkie and looking anxious.

"Their families can take care of them," Mrs. Wheeler said firmly. She turned her attention back to Jonathan and Nancy. "The chief will be there?"

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "It's one of the refuge locations. He's helping evacuate people now." The fact that he was specifically evacuating Mike and Will's friends was better left unsaid, since he suspected Mrs. Wheeler didn't have much insight into the role her kids played in managing the disaster last year. "We're supposed to meet him there in…," Jonathan checked his watch, "…one hour." He looked at Nancy and said, "We have to go."

"We all have to go," Mrs. Wheeler added. "This radiation leak…"

Her husband walked past, carrying another suitcase, and said loudly, "Russia!"

Jonathan followed Nancy upstairs while Mrs. Wheeler headed toward the kitchen, saying, "I've got to get ahold of Katherine." Mike darted past her and charged up the stairs.

"What about Dustin and Lucas?" he asked them again. "They're not answering their phones or Walkie-Talkies." Nancy was grabbing cotton swabs and mercurochrome from the bathroom cabinet. She passed Mike in the hall and ushered both of them into her bedroom.

Jonathan shut the door and said in a low voice, "Hopper's getting them and their families. He's going to lead them to River Valley and I'm getting you guys. We're all going to meet there." He paused; then added, "And we're running out of time."

Mike scrunched his face suspiciously. "Why?" he finally asked.

Nancy pointed at the door. "Look the other way, Mike." After he shook his head and obediently spun around, she turned her back to Jonathan. "Can you?" she asked. Tugging on the seams of her shirt, the tear split wider, exposing the cut.

Jonathan picked up the bottle of mercurochrome and went to dab the wand against her cut when he stopped. "Nancy," he said, hand still holding the medicine. "It's scabbed." He looked closer. "It's not bleeding. It's not even close to bleeding anymore."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

Behind him, Jonathan could feel Mike peering over his shoulder. He put the mercurochrome on her dresser and reached out. "I'm going to touch it, okay? Really gentle." Nancy nodded and he brushed his fingertips against the hardened channel that ran in a jagged line between the flared edges of her angry, swollen skin. He heard her breath catch. "It's healing," he said, shocked.

She sighed impatiently and shooed him away, shooting daggers at Mike who immediately spun back around. Leaning against her vanity, Nancy examined the reflection. She craned her neck and turned to catch the light just right before shaking her head bemusedly. "It doesn't make any sense," she said. The cut itself looked like a three-day-old scab; surrounding the swell of painful, pink flesh that bordered the wound, her skin was greenish-yellow, like an old bruise. Despite knowing better, she touched the cut again and cringed. "It still hurts like hell," she complained.

"What happened?" Mike asked in awe, openly gawking at his sister's reflection.

Nancy snapped back, "My God, Mike, will you please turn around?"

"No!" he shot back, glaring from Nancy to Jonathan. "Tell me what the hell is going on! Why is the police chief picking up Dustin and Lucas and their families? What happened to you?" He set his jaw angrily and clenched his fists around the Walkie-Talkie.

From downstairs, a heated argument was beginning. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's voices carried upstairs, incoherent, but irritated. Outside, a shriek of rubber on pavement indicated another neighbor making a quick escape. Over the siren, a distant echo of evacuation procedures was rolling through their subdivision. Louder than all of it, Jonathan heard his own heartbeat, like the rhythmic rush of the ocean tide. He looked to Nancy for direction and she seemed to deflate a little. "Tell him," she instructed.

While she began pulling clothes out of her dresser and closet, Jonathan told Mike, "There's another monster. Like before—the Demogorgon."

Mike's fists relaxed and his jaw went slack as the information sunk in. "Another…" He trailed off. "How do you know?" he asked.

"I saw it," Jonathan replied.

"He fought it," Nancy added. She was haphazardly shoving piles of clothes into a canvas tote. "And it is what happened to me."

Mike's jaw dropped completely. "No way!"

"Yes way!" she snapped. "Now, will you turn around for real this time? I need to change." Mike dipped his chin in a quick nod, turned and sat down, facing the door. As if proving his compliance, he switched on the Walkie-Talkie and began vainly paging Dustin and Lucas. Nancy turned to Jonathan and whispered through her teeth, "I need your help." He raised his eyebrows questioningly. Nancy made an uncomfortable, tight-lipped smile. "I don't want this to be weird or whatever," she explained, fidgeting. "I just need help." She glanced at Mike out of the corner of her eye. "I can't reach behind to undo my… bra." She dropped her eyes to the floor. "It really hurts like hell when I move my left arm at all," she explained quickly, trying to stomp out the tension in her words.

"Yeah, okay," Jonathan replied. It felt like an incredibly inadequate response, but he couldn't manage anything better. Behind him, Mike's calls suspiciously became louder and more frequent – something Nancy noticed also, as she let out an annoyed sigh and turned her back to Jonathan.

"Just be careful," she warned.

"Right," he said, grabbing the torn edges of her shirt and lifting up, being careful not to touch the skin. The thin fabric of her bra was practically shredded over the cut. Thankfully, none of it seemed to have been caught in the wound. The two elastic bands running parallel across her ribs were pressed tenderly in the swollen skin beneath. Bunching the hem of her shirt in his left hand, Jonathan tucked two fingers of his right hand behind the bra clasp. Nancy's slight frame shivered at the touch and he withdrew immediately. "I'm sorry," he said. "My fingers are freezing." He rubbed them against his leg, but they still felt cold and clammy when he reached out again.

"It's fine," Nancy assured him. But he could see the goosebumps prickling across her back.

The moment felt simultaneously intimate and, as he overheard Mike's repeated attempts to reach his friends, awkward. He looped his forefinger beneath the clasp and pinched his thumb against the fabric, releasing the hooks in one swift movement.

"Thank you," Nancy said, but Jonathan had already turned around, giving her privacy. He ran his hands through his hair and tapped his foot out of beat. The memory of her kiss was barreling its way to the forefront of his thoughts and he had a desperate urge to pack something, go for a run or do anything remotely productive.

Behind him, Nancy was shuffling into a new shirt, gingerly pulling it over her head and trying not to touch her back. The argument downstairs was reaching a pitch. Jonathan heard Mrs. Wheeler mention the name Katherine again, forcefully.

"I'm ready," Nancy announced. Mike and Jonathan turned around. The canvas tote was looped around her arm and she was wearing a striped, short-sleeved shirt. "Do you know what's going on with Aunt Katherine?" she asked Mike.

Her brother shrugged, opening the door. As they piled out of the hallway and descended the stairs, the argument hit them in full force.

"Get in the car with Holly, Karen," Mr. Wheeler was saying angrily. "We're leaving now."

"I'm not abandoning my sister, Ted!" she screamed back. Holly was hiding behind Mrs. Wheeler's legs, peering out silently.

Nancy, Mike and Jonathan froze on the landing. Mr. Wheeler regarded them coolly, then said, "I will go get Katherine." He made a display of grabbing his set of car keys from a hook on the wall and jingled them. "Take the kids," he told Mrs. Wheeler, "And get them out of Hawkins. I'll meet you at the park in an hour or so."

His car was long gone when Jonathan shut the trunk of his Ford and nodded at Nancy. Mrs. Wheeler was buckling Holly into their station wagon when Mike, standing in the middle of the driveway, seemed to come to a decision and veered toward Jonathan's car.

"Nancy, Mike, come on," Mrs. Wheeler called out. She shut the car's back door, closing Holly inside and squinted at her children, clustered around the old Ford.

"I'm riding with Jonathan," Nancy announced.

"Me too," Mike said, puffing out his chest.

Jonathan had the feeling that their dad's absence was making this change in plans possible.

"Don't be ridiculous," Mrs. Wheeler said. "We're going to the same place. Just get over here." She crossed to the driver's side and opened the door. When neither of her kids obeyed, she turned and eyed them individually.

"You're right," Nancy chimed in. "We are going to the same place. So it shouldn't matter who we go with. You can follow us. So we won't be out of your sight…" Her voice was drowned out by a fresh siren overhead.

Mrs. Wheeler shook her head at the cacophony. "Fine," she gave in. "Fine, I'll follow you. We just need to leave now."

Jonathan started up the engine and checked his watch. Thirty minutes. They were going to be late. He hoped his mom and Will were safe.