Day 1

Mike

His watch read 12:30. Outside, stars blinked in the midnight sky. Heads bobbed past the window as more people filled the available cabins and the last four were pried open, at Steve's suggestion. Dustin and his family were crowded in with five other people next door. He'd wanted to bunk with Mike, but there wasn't enough room and with Nancy in her condition…

He and Will were sitting at the table, looking at each other, but listening to the hushed voices in the second bedroom. "She threw up the painkillers almost immediately," Jonathan was whispering to Steve. Mike wasn't sure if he was keeping his voice down for Nancy's sake or Holly's, who was sleeping in the first bedroom.

The cabin was dimly lit with oil lamps. Their flames cast monstrous shadows across the walls and turned the world a smoldering orange color. "What's her temperature?" Steve asked. He cycled through nervously chewing his nails and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"A hundred four," Jonathan replied. He glanced back into the bedroom where Mike's mom was standing over the bed whispering to the chief and Will's mom. "Twenty minutes ago," Jonathan added. Mike could just make out his sister's face between Mrs. Byers and Hopper. The blankets were pulled up to her chin and she looked peaceful.

Steve pulled Jonathan out of the doorway and lowered his voice even more. Mike had to strain to catch the words. "She had a seizure," he whispered. "I know what I saw."

Jonathan looked over his shoulder and Mike immediately looked away, pretending to be immersed in the wood grain of the tabletop. "Remember when we told you about the…" He checked over his shoulder again. "…monster? And how it scratched Nancy?" He paused. Inside the bedroom Mike's mom could be heard complaining about his dad's absence. "The cut was bad. She was bleeding. But it started healing in minutes."

"What are you talking about?" came Steve's voice.

"Shh," Jonathan hushed him. "I don't know how to explain it, but in ten minutes this two-foot cut was scabbed shut. Like, an old scab. It was just healing unnaturally." Mike cautiously lifted his head from the table to see Steve squinting at Jonathan confusedly. Jonathan continued, "I don't know if the two are related, but the wound and then the fever…" He trailed off, leaving his suspicion unfinished.

"What, like poison?" Steve asked.

Jonathan shrugged. "Or bacteria. I don't know. Maybe it's not related."

Mike's mom walked into the main room then, silencing their conversation. She scanned the two older boys huddled near the front door and the two younger sitting at the table. "Your dad and I will take Nancy to the hospital in the morning if she still has a fever," she told Mike.

"Dad's not even here," Mike protested.

"He will be by the morning," she snapped. She'd obviously spent the past couple hours convincing herself of this and Mike wasn't going to argue with her. His mom took a steadying breath and continued, "Nancy's sleeping, so I'm going to take the second bed in that room. You boys," she addressed Mike and Will, "take the bunkbed in with Holly, but do not wake her."

Behind her, Mrs. Byers and Chief Hopper left Nancy's side and walked into the main room. "Mom," Will complained. "I'm not tired."

"Go," Mrs. Byers replied firmly.

Mike gave Will an understanding look. "Come on," he said.

The bedroom was almost pitch black when the door was closed and the boys had to settle into bed using the thin strip of flickering light that crept through the narrow gap below the door. Once they'd gotten comfortable and the rustling sheets and squeaking bedsprings ceased, Holly's soft, rhythmic breathing filled the room. On the other side of the door, voices were carrying on muted conversations. Mike held his breath and focused on the individual voices, but couldn't pick out any words through the soft mumbling.

Then Will's voice, barely more than a whisper, floated up to him. "Mike? I need to tell you something."

"Okay," Mike whispered back. The cadence of Holly's breathing in the background confirmed that she wasn't bothered by their voices.

"Do you remember in November and December," Will began. "When I first got back, for a few months I had those respiratory infections?"

Mike nodded to himself. "Of course," he replied. How could he forget? "You were almost never in school and then you had that crazy face mask for a while."

"Nebulizer," Will corrected. "Yeah, that was annoying." He was silent for a minute or two while the mumble of voices outside their door continued. "I didn't have an infection," he finally said.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

"I mean, the doctors didn't know what it was. They thought asthma or respiratory infection, but they were just treating symptoms. I didn't have an infection. The coughing was from the Upside Down," he admitted.

A chill ran down Mike's spine. Will didn't like to talk about his time on the other side. He'd shut the door on that nightmare when he came home and clammed up if anyone ever tried to broach the subject. But here he was, in the black of midnight, after the Demogorgon had returned, discussing the Upside Down.

"And something else," Will continued. His voice shook. "It was more than coughing. Do you remember in Mr. Clarke's class when we learned about those mushrooms that release spore clouds? The air in the Upside Down was cloudy with particles, like a dark snow globe. And I think the particles were spores." He sniffed and took a deep breath. This conversation seemed like something he'd rehearsed ages ago, but had never found the courage to bring it up.

Mike was trying to imagine a shadowy snow globe world with black spores spiraling in the air. "Why?" he asked.

"Sometimes when I coughed, it was really violent, like throwing up," he explained shakily. He seemed to be struggling through his words. "And I coughed up these black slugs."

"What?" Mike asked, loudly. He clapped a hand to his mouth and listened, silently, for Holly's steady breathing to tell him that he hadn't woken her. The voices outside the door continued and the gradual in and out of his sister's breath put him at ease. "Slugs?" he whispered. "Gross!"

"I think it was from the spores," Will explained.

Mike furrowed his brow. "But that doesn't make sense," he breathed. "Your mom and Hopper went into the Upside Down too. And Nancy." He thought of Nancy in the other room and her sudden fever. But all she'd thrown up was a couple pills. No slugs. "They're okay… mostly."

Will was quiet, obviously mulling over Mike's reasoning. "Maybe it was something else," he whispered. "I don't remember what happened after the Demogorgon found me in Castle Byers. Maybe it was…" His voice broke again. "But Mike, I think it's my fault." He sniffed loudly.

"What's your fault?" Mike asked, thinking again of Nancy.

"The slugs," Will said. "I was coughing them up for weeks. What if—" He sniffed again and Mike realized his friend was crying. "What if they were, like, Demogorgon larvae? Mike, I think this is all my fault." His breath was coming in quick, shallow bursts. "I think I brought the Demogorgon back with me."