Gareth's hand throbbed, his heart pounded, and he couldn't decide which was worse: the shame, or the fear. Jason Carver, the despicable, entitled Captain of the basketball team, finally left, striding from the garage like he owned the place. As if barging into someone's house, wrecking his instruments, and torturing him for info was somehow righteous. The scumbag looked proud, triumphant, and smug. If Jason weren't twice Gareth's size, and he didn't have his lacky's with him, the whole band could have jumped the psycho.

Lucas looked over his shoulder, his expression conflicted but apologetic. Missing the finale of the Campaign was bad enough, but standing there like a silent wimp while Gareth was getting roughed up?

Nah, it wasn't that bad. Lucas clearly didn't approve of what Jason did. He was just too scared to stand up for Gareth. And since that was true about everyone in Hellfire Club, it probably wasn't fair to blame Lucas.

But this still didn't sit right.

"Dude, that sucked." Jeff helped Gareth to his feet. "Jason thinks he can get away with anything."

Gareth almost dropped the whole thing. Embarrassed, and feeling helpless, he wanted to just move on and put this behind him.

But… no. This kind of crap was not ok. Popularity should not let somebody get away with garbage like this. If anything, guys like Jason should be held to greater scrutiny.

The rest of the band were getting ready to play again, but Gareth marched into the house.

"Where are ya goin'?" Jeff asked, hurrying after him.

"I'm callin' the cops. And you guys are gonna back me up."

The crowd clamored and grumbled, with some of the most vocal citizens getting more angry by the minute. Chief Calvin Powell accepted the need for this town meeting, but things could easily get out of hand. Even one murder in such a small town was guaranteed to get the populace riled up. But three kids? After numerous violent incidents and dozens of deaths since the case to find Will Byers? This little town was a powder keg, and any one of these angry people could become a spark at the slightest provocation.

And then a dangerous provocateur boldly marched into the room.

But… he was expected.

Already on the lookout for this particular criminal, Powell noticed Jason the instant he entered. Stopping mid-sentence, Powell turned his attention to the basketball Captain. "Are you here to peacefully observe, young man? Or do you want trouble?"

"You've already got trouble." The arrogance wafting off Jason would have made Powell sick… if not for what he knew about the incident with Gareth. Instead, he was glad Jason was so openly rude. It would make it way easier to get the crowd to side against the kid.

The Chief decided to give this troublemaker enough rope to hang himself. "Son, I'd prefer to talk in private… but something tells me you'd rather make a scene."

"Oh, you wanna keep the truth from comin' out?"

Just a little more. Give this kid a chance to cross a line. The Chief gestured for his men to stay silent.

Jason strutted in front of the crowd. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I can't bear to listen to any more excuses and lies!"

Good. He's already belligerent. Let's make sure the audience has the context for what'll come in a minute. "You can speak, son, but you will show proper decorum. Rabble rousing and accusing the police is unacceptable." Powell was proud of that delivery. He sounded just a bit weak, just a bit passive. Enough to encourage this reckless delinquent to walk into a trap, but not enough to seriously damage Powell's authority.

"You deserve to be accused!" Jason shouted, whirling. "Because there are dark forces at work, and you're covering it up!"

Almost there. Just one more thing... "Son! Are you inciting a riot? Will you encourage our fine citizens to take the law into their own hands?"

"YES! Because you can't do what's necessary! You know Eddie's made a pact with the Devil, and you refuse–"

"ENOUGH!" Powell shouted, deliberately causing a blast of feedback that elicited cries of shock, and smashing his hand down on the lectern hard enough to audibly crack the wood. Three kids started crying, and Jason's tirade cut off. "Jason Carver: You are under arrest for assault, vandalism, and disturbing the peace!"

Stunned surprise replaced Jason's self-righteous ardor, and the change was immensely satisfying to watch. Warned in advance to expect such a possibility, four officers converged on the rabble rouser from every direction.

The Chief stood tall, with not a trace of his earlier timidity. "Four witnesses reported that you invaded the home of Gareth Timbleton, vandalized his personal property, and assaulted him! You interrogated him under duress, injuring his hand while threatening even greater violence! Even your teammate Lucas Sinclair corroborates these accusations, and everyone in this room witnessed you inciting the public to vigilantism! I look forward to seeing you in court."

The disbelief on Jason's face was priceless. The entitled, self-important fool had clearly taken it for granted that his victims would be too scared to report him. Now, he'd condemned himself in front of the whole town, and any influence he thought he had went down in flames.

"In light of these violent and dangerous crimes, you'll be spending the night behind bars. You face charges from both Gareth Timbleton and the State of Indiana! Take him away!"

The crowd felt even more stirred up than before, but now, a lot of their discontent was directed at Jason. The young man raved and cursed as he was hauled out, and a particularly foolish attempt to throw a punch did Powell's heart good. The trooper caught the punch, hauled the hand behind Jason's back, and deftly handcuffed him. With everyone seeing that attempt to strike an officer, the crowd now knew they'd be on very shaky ground if they spoke on the boy's behalf.

"Citizens of Hawkins, you deserve answers!" Most of the crowd tore their eyes away from the spectacle, returning their attention to the Chief. "For years now, we've reeled from one crisis to another. Our town has suffered tragedy, and very little of what's happened seems to make any sense. Now isn't the time to speak of those earlier events, but I will tell you more about the most recent murders."

The confidence, conviction, and sincerity in Powell's voice finally brought relative quiet back to the room. The door slammed shut, and Jason was out of the picture. Better still, his lackeys had followed him out, unwilling to risk the Chief's wrath now that their ringleader was neutralized.

"I'm gonna level with you all. I'm risking my career right now, but you deserve full disclosure."

Phil Callahan leaned over and whispered, "Whoa, this is not a good idea, Chief." Powell ignored him.

"Here's God's own truth: There's simply no way that Eddie Munson killed those kids. We know this because of the manner in which the victims died. I'll be honest: the details are brutal. I strongly recommend that all children be taken outside before I continue. Anyone with a weak stomach, or who just doesn't want to know how these kids died, should leave as well. Because I'm not gonna hold anything back."

For the next three minutes, parents with young children, as well as about twenty others, made their way out. Several citizens spoke up during that time, but Powell wouldn't answer until after the core facts were disclosed. Phil tried again to talk Powell out of it, but he would not be dissuaded. An innocent kid, whose friends had been assaulted by a vigilante, shouldn't be allowed to take the blame for a crime he couldn't possibly have committed.

Finally, it was time. "The victims were murdered by means no ordinary person could achieve. They suffered multiple extreme breaks to all four limbs, but with no external bruising. I shouldn't have to explain how impossible that sounds. If Eddie Munson had beaten these kids that badly, the external wounds would be obvious and abundant. But no such injuries exist. Their skin is totally unmarred, while their bones were split clean through."

Many in the crowd looked horrified, or even ill. But almost none showed the kind of suspicion and distrust that had threatened to boil over earlier. There was simply no way the Chief would invent a story like this. "Further, the victims' eyes were forced back into their skulls, but showed no sign of direct pressure or trauma. Forensic experts have no explanation for these injuries."

One man, whose name slipped Powell's mind, stood. "What if Jason was right then? What if Eddie could only kill these kids cuz he made a deal with the Devil?"

Several citizens spoke up, seconding that fear, but the Chief kept his expression calm and confident. "Think that through. Please. This is a good, Christian town, and the victims were fine, upstanding kids. Whatever exactly is happening, do you really believe that Eddie Munson, a sloppy student with nothin' but nerds as friends, can command the Devil to kill in our town? Would our priests and pastors really be powerless against that? You believe the Devil can murder kids, but God can't do anything about it?"

Mercifully, that angle at least got the people thinking, and it broke up what otherwise might have been a building uproar. Instead of the whole crowd agreeing that the police weren't doing enough, they started to look confused, and uncertain.

Time to get them on a different track. "I agree that something terrible and unknown is at work. But it's far more likely that we're dealing with a new and advanced weapon, or maybe an engineered disease. Extreme symptoms of some known drugs and illnesses can cause horrible contortions and internal damage in the human body, but it's just not reasonable to believe that Eddie Munson would have access to such things. Now do you see why we're prepared to enforce a curfew? If there's a disease or chemical weapon at play, the best option is for everyone to stay home. Indoors, locked up, windows tight, loved ones held close. My officers and the state troopers assisting us will continue this investigation, and we're requesting additional support from multiple government agencies. Eddie Munson is not the prime suspect: he's the prime witness. He saw the final symptoms of the first victim. He may be hiding for his own safety, terrified of what he saw, I don't blame him! If we find the poor boy, we'll need his testimony… and help."

The following half hour was easily the most stressful of his short career as Police Chief, but Powell was proud of the results. Instead of a riot, or vigilante bands of panicky citizens hunting a "cult," he'd snapped them out of their hysteria. Logic and open discourse had broken up their outrageous theories and paranoid fears. Though they still had questions, and no one would sleep soundly that night, at least they weren't ready to take up arms.

It would be a long and tense night, but he might just have averted a disaster.

Lucas fought down panic, his fear for Max spiking. The moment she'd entered that disturbing trance, proving Vecna had her, Lucas had slipped on the headphones. But in accordance with the plan, he hadn't started the music yet. To do her job, the heroic Max needed to hold Vecna's attention. If she escaped too soon, the mission might fail. Delaying was agony, but Lucas had to be patient.

Right now, any interruption would have been disastrous. It was a huge relief that the unhinged Jason was behind bars, and the town under tight curfew. They needed to be left alone during–

Max began to rise into the air.

Immediately, Lucas hit play, giving Kate Bush another chance to save Max's life. The seconds dragged on, every heartbeat painful. If the others hadn't reached Vecna yet, the plan was a bust. The best they could hope for was getting everyone out alive. They probably couldn't try this a second time, but–

With a gut-wrenching snap, her left arm twisted unnaturally. Lucas screamed. What should he do? What should he do?

But then… Max's eyes returned to normal, and she fell.

Lucas caught her, carefully cradling her broken arm. Max screamed, feeling the pain for the first time… but she was alive.

"Max! I'm so sorry he hurt you! But you're back!"

She leaned into his embrace, shivering, fighting back tears. "I… I think it'll be ok. Eleven was there. Vecna had her trapped, but he got distracted when the music started. He had to focus on keeping me from escaping, and Eleven broke free. I think… they're fighting right now. And Eleven was winning. She tore me out of Vecna's vines, and threw me back to the real world."

Eleven… thank you…

He hadn't dared to hope that Eleven might somehow join the fight. She'd lost her powers. But if she was in Vecna's mind, fighting him…

"I think you're right, Max. It is gonna be ok."

Eddie Munson awoke in the Hawkins hospital. Everything hurt, and he was covered in so many bandages he looked like a mummy… but he also wasn't alone.

All of the Hellfire Club had gathered, along with the whole crew that had banded together to bring down Vecna. Dustin sat at his side, squeezing his hand.

"Whoa… hi everybody. Kinda crowded in here..."

"Yep." Dustin didn't try to hide his tears. "You're gonna be ok."

When Eddie had blacked out, he hadn't expected to wake up. Sure, all those monster bats had lost consciousness and crash-landed shortly after catching him, but all those bites had sucked. He'd feared he was a goner. If the others had taken any longer to bring down Vecna, he had no doubt he'd be dead.

Gareth and Lucas stood side by side, with looks of pride that suggested they'd been at least part of how he'd survived. Hesitating, Eddie wasn't sure how much he could afford to tell the members of the Club who didn't know about Vecna. He turned back to Dustin, and raised an eyebrow.

"Uh… Henry disappeared… but we stopped his plan. The others did a number on him, and Max hasn't had any trouble since. Also, some… friends… will be back in town soon. Together, we'll take a trip to Henry's place and… wrap things up."

Before Eddie could think of a crafty way to ask for details, Chief Powell entered the room. "Young Mr. Munsen. I'm very glad to finally get a chance to speak with you. I'm sorry about your injuries, but I'm glad you'll be alright."

He dismissed most of the Hellfire Club, but he conspicuously kept everyone who'd taken on Vecna. "I hear that my predecessor's alive, and on his way to Hawkins. Further, I've been putting together a great many odd and disturbing pieces of evidence, along with reports and testimonies. Individually, they seem… incredible. But taken together…"

Eddie's heart sank. They were not going to be able to shake this guy with vague excuses.

The Chief stood tall. "Let me lay it out for all of you: I risked my career, and even possible prosecution, by opening up to the people of this town. I told them everything I knew… which isn't much. But I think it's only fair… that you level with me."

Dead silence. You could have heard a pin drop. Without anything to distract him, Eddie felt all those bites and scratches more than ever.

Hesitantly, Nancy Wheeler started to talk, but the Chief quickly cut her off. "I don't think I made myself clear. I'm done living in the dark. Children died on my watch, I know you kids have answers, and the secrets die today. I have a feeling we're on the same side… or at least we should be. But I'm gonna need to be sure you've told me everything.

Six more police and state troopers entered the crowded hospital room. None tried to look threatening, but considering how long he'd been hiding from people like them, Eddie did not feel comfortable with this.

"We're gonna be splitting you up, each one in a separate room, and we'll talk to you individually. You're not in trouble, but I will get to the bottom of this."

He met Eddie's eyes, then he gave a similar look to Max. "And once we're all on the same page… and we've got Hopper back on the team… my people are gonna help bring down whoever hurt you."

Author's Note:

I absolutely love Stranger Things, and Season Four was especially powerful and epic. I'll miss Eddie, and I hope Max isn't gone for good. But occasionally, hindsight can show opportunities for everything to have gone differently if even one small change had been introduced. It's tragically common for victims of bullying to feel too scared or ashamed to get the help they deserve. But in this case, if Gareth had exercised his rights and reported Jason's crimes, that dangerous troublemaker would have been taken off the table. Without him stirring up the town, and with him unable to interfere with the plan to stop Vecna, things easily could have turned out far better.

So the moral: If you're bullied, speak up! You might just stop an extradimensional serial killer from opening a portal to the Upside Down.

Or at least you'll put a stop to some rotten behavior.