Mike was already tense enough, but hearing a door slam below him was the last straw. Max was still frozen, Lucas watching her with fear. But, as the bang rang out across the house, Lucas met Mike's eye, and they both knew that something was wrong.

Mike grabbed the knife that Joyce had leant him from her kitchen, straightening and walking towards the entrance to the attic, fear spiking in his stomach.

He heard a girl scream. He knew that it was Erica.

What was going on? What was he going to fight? A Demogorgan? Demodogs? One himself?

"Erica? Are you okay?" Mike yelled, and Lucas glanced at him, but Mike shrugged, wishing that he knew what had happened. He wished that he knew what was coming.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and in that instant he knew that yelling was a bad idea. But, it was too late now. Gripping the knife tighter, he frantically looked around for something for Lucas to use, just in case Mike couldn't protect them. It sounded like only one person running up the stairs, but one person could do a lot of damage.

Finally, he spotted a plank of wood, the only thing that looked close to a weapon. Tossing it to Lucas, he positioned himself in front of the door, panic flooding his veins.

"Protect her. Make sure the walkman is ready."

Lucas nodded, holding the flashlight towards the door with a shaky hand. As the footsteps drew closer, making the stairs creak, Mike thought of a plan, and rushed to hide in the shadows. He didn't know who it was, but if they thought that only Lucas and Max were here…it would give him an advantage. He would have the element of surprise. Lucas gave him a look of understanding, and Mike forced his breathing to be calm and silent.

It was Jason, the captain of the basketball team, that stepped up the stairs, his eyes wide, his limbs tense. He looked like he could kill someone. Lucas turned to him, raising his hands in surrender, dropping the board onto the floor.

"Jason…you shouldn't be here!" He said, "You have to go!"

"What are you doing? What have you done?" Jason asked, his voice sounding menacing, cold. It would've scared Mike if there weren't a million other things to be scared of right now.

Lucas took a slow step forward, giving Mike a quick glance. Thankfully Jason didn't seem to notice. "You need to leave."

"What are you doing to her?" Jason continued, kneeling down near Max, touching her shoulder. "Is this what you did to Chrissy?

"What? No, dude! Just listen!"

Mike took a deep breath. In. Out. He had to be ready. He had to protect them.

Jason was asking Max if she was okay, if she could hear them, and Lucas began talking over him, urging him to leave. And Lucas was right. If Jason didn't leave their plan wouldn't work. Max could die. They could all die.

It was when Lucas stepped towards Jason that Jason stood up, pulling a gun from his pocket.

"Back up!"

A gun. Jason had a gun.

The knife in Mike's hand felt useless now.

It was almost humorous. Don't bring a knife to a gunfight, right?

Mike slowly stepped forward, hoping that the wood floor wouldn't creek beneath him, and raised his knife. He didn't know what to do, but he had to do something.

"Come on," Lucas argued, "We don't have to do this!"

"I hope that we don't. Is there anyone else here? I heard you talking to someone!"

"Right here!" Mike yelled, and before Jason could turn Mike hit him in the head with the back of the knife, using all of the strength that he could, causing Jason to stumble. But, as easily as he got disoriented, he rightied himself again, waving the gun from Mike to Lucas. Jason put his hand to his head, and when he pulled it back there was blood.

Mike felt sick. He did that. He did that.

"Wheeler. Of course you're a part of this. You're one of Munson's, aren't you?"

"Just leave, Jason! Don't make me use this!" Mike replied, pointing the knife, and Jason scowled.

"I'm the one with the gun. Now wake her up!"

"We can't!" Lucas argued, "If we wake her too soon, we'll all die!"

"If you don't wake her up now, you'll both die. Only you two."

Jason's eyes were trained on Lucas, as well as the gun, and Mike attacked. He ran forward, tackling Jason around the waist and pushed him towards the ground, punching him in the face with the hand not holding the knife. Jason thrashed, kicking up. He managed to get a grip on Mike, rolling him over. Mike struggled to breath, feeling the full weight of Jason's body on his chest. His arms were free, and he swiped up, not even feeling when the knife hit Jason's skin. It didn't do much, only causing a small cut to appear on his cheek, and Jason didn't react to it. He punched Mike in the face. Once, twice, three times, and all Mike could feel was pain. Was this how Steve felt back with Billy?

Mike tried to fight his way out, but sometime along the way he had dropped the knife. Jason had to have kicked it away, right? Where was the gun? Had Jason dropped it, too?

Mike hoped so.

Suddenly Jason stopped, and Mike opened his eyes, fighting the darkness that clawed at his vision. He saw Lucas standing over them, holding the gun in shaky hands, pointing it at Jason. With his thumb, he loaded it, and Jason stilled completely.

"There's a monster," Lucas began, his voice as shaky as his hands. "In another world. He calls himself One, but we call him Vecna. He's cursing kids, he cursed Chrissy, and killed them. He cursed Max, and we're using her as bait to kill him."

"Max agreed to it." Mike added, coughing up what tasted like blood. He turned his head to the side, letting the blood from his mouth fall to the floor. Jason still didn't let go of him. Everything hurt, all he wanted to do was fall asleep, but he knew that he needed to stay awake. He needed to help Lucas convince Jason to go. Then he could sleep.

"Eddie Munon's cult? They made him?" Jason asked, and Lucas shook his head.

"No! No! There's no cult, Eddie didn't do anything! It was One who killed Chrissy, not him!"

"Liar!" Jason yelled, and he reached over to grab something that Mike didn't see. Lucas screamed, and Mike felt something cold on his throat. The knife.

"Say one more word and Wheeler dies! How would you like that, Sinclair?"

Mike swallowed, and Jason pressed the knife into his skin.

"Don't. Move."

Mike could feel blood dribbling down his neck. And it hurt. It hurt just as much as his head did.

Lucas froze. Mike was scared. And Jason didn't make a move to leave.

"Please. Don't do this. Just, trust us, please!" Mike said, hating that he was pleading, begging, but they had to fix this, and fast. They were running out of time.

Mike felt Jason shift, loosening his weight on Mike's chest, and he took advantage of it. Pushing up, he slammed his knee into Jason's stomach, making the older teen cry out, pulling the knife away for a split second. Mike rolled away. He could still feel the sting of the cut at his neck, but he chose to ignore it.

Jason dove for Lucas, bringing him to the ground, and Mike could only yell out in panic before he saw the Walkman be crushed by Lucas' body when they fell.

That was their last chance of getting Max out alive. She was going to die.

Rage filled his heart, and he rushed over to Jason, yanking him off of Lucas and pushed him towards the wall. Lucas still had the gun, and once again, he pointed it at Jason.

Jason didn't move. He didn't attack again, he didn't fight back, he just stood there, breathing heavily. He wiped the blood from his cheek, and Mike didn't want to waste another second.

"Lucas. Give me the gun. You go try and fix the Walkman."

"The Walkman?"

"Yes! It's broken! We need to try and fix it!"

Lucas quickly handed Mike the gun, and ran over to Max, grabbing the Walkman on the way. Mike turned his attention back to Jason, waiting for an attack, an attack that he was sure that would come.

Lucas then screamed in horror, and Mike turned to see Max be lifted off of the ground, floating.

The Walman was still broken. Jason was still here. And Mike couldn't think of what to do.

He failed them. He failed them all.

The earth was shaking, and the Demogorgon wouldn't die. Steve dodged around it, weaving between its long limbs, hitting it with as much strength as he could. The nail bat was covered in blood, yet the monster wouldn't die.

Steve wouldn't give up, though. He wouldn't give up until it was dead, or he was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw fire from inside the house, and he hoped that it was the molotov cocktails. He could hear gunshots in the distance, no doubt Nancy's, and found that the sound gave him strength. If they were still fighting, he could still fight. The end hadn't arrived yet.

The earth shook again, and Steve stumbled, giving the Demogorgon the chance to swipe its claws at him. Steve yelled as he felt the claws touch his skin, but one quick check told him that he wasn't bleeding.

As far as he knew, he wasn't in pain. He wasn't hurt. He was exhausted. Every step felt like his shoes were bricks, and his lungs gasped for air. He knew, though, that he could make it. He walked for hours in a desert with Robin, he could fight a demogorgon for a few more minutes.

Turning back to the Demogorgon, Steve swung the bat at its knee, making it screech. Steve narrowly missed its mouth as it reached down for him, and he responded by kicking it in the same knee. If he could get this thing on the ground, he would have a chance.

With that thought he threw everything he could into the one knee. Blood flew everywhere, but he didn't stop his attacks. Eventually the Demogorgon fell, reaching for him with its claws. Steve screamed, hitting it's mouth with the bat relentlessly until it went still. He didn't waste a second taking in the victory. His family needed him.

Running as quickly as he could, he bounded up the steps into the house, taking the stairs two at a time, running straight into Nancy, who pointed the gun at him. A clock chimed in the distance, four times, and it made him shiver.

"Nancy! It's me!"

Nancy lowered the gun, giving him a quick hug.

"Is One dead? Is everyone okay?" Steve asked, and Nancy shook her head.

"He escaped, we don't know where he went. But this world's falling apart."

"What? What do you mean?" Steve asked, pulling away, and the world shook again.

"We think Max didn't make it. Fourー" Her voice broke, and Steve's stomach sank, finally paying attention to the noise around him, finally realizing what it meant. "Four chimes. Four deaths. Gates are opening; I can see it outside of the house. We need to go. Jonathan's upstairs with Will and Hopper, Will broke his leg."

"Max…"

Steve tried to process all of what he was feeling, but it was too much. He would fall under the pressure of the emotions if he let himself think about it, so he didn't.

"Keep going, get back to Dustin and Eddie. I'll get Will."

Nancy nodded, and Steve chose to ignore the tears that he could see in her eyes. He knew that she didn't want comfort. There were still people that needed saving, still things that needed to be done, and she knew that. They just needed to keep going.

Stepping out of the way, Steve let her run past him, and he continued up the stairs, trying to keep himself standing when the house shook, following the sound of pained cries.

"It hurts it hurts it hurts!"

"I know Will, I know. Just hang on!"

"We need to get out of here!"

Steve ran into the attic, and observed the scene in front of him. Will was on the ground, his leg twisted at an odd angle, and Jonathan was cradling him. Hopper stood guard and, like Nancy, pointed his gun at Steve before realizing who it was.

"Steve."

Steve didn't waste a second in grabbing Will's leg, sending all of his power into it.

"We're going to have to heal it and reset it, fast. I don't want to heal it wrong."

"Don't take that risk." Hopper said, kneeling by him. Will's cries made Steve's heart ache, and he gripped Will's hand briefly. "If it heals wrong, it may never be the same."

"I can't just not heal him!"

"Can you stop his pain somehow?" Jonathan asked desperately, and Steve shook his head.

"I don't know…"

The house began crumbling around them, and Steve struggled to stay on his feet. He tried to regulate how much he healed Will's leg. From beside him, a gate opened, and Steve flinched.

"We don't have time. Jonathan, carry WIll. Hopper, leave the bags, everything but the weapons. I'll do what I can as we run."

Jonathan nodded, and Will screamed when he was picked up, Jonathan muttering words of comfort to him as he did so. Steve put his hand on Will's forehead, sending some of his healing power in him, hoping that it would help the pain.

Then they ran. Past the new gate, down the stairs, out into the open, past the dead Demogorgon, and through the woods. The house collapsed behind them, but none of them looked behind, only ahead. Will's cries softened, and Steve hoped that that meant he wasn't in pain.

The way back to the trailer felt harder to traverse, Steve kept on tripping, and Hopper fell behind, firing at something Steve didn't know. The bats were gone, and the music had stopped. Steve distantly wondered what it meant.

He couldn't dwell on it now.

Finally, the trailer came into sight, and Steve's eyes widened when he saw Nancy and Dustin kneeling over something, something too close to a body.

Eddie.

"Eddie!" Steve screamed, and he ran ahead, falling to Eddie's side. Eddie's eyes were closed, and he was covered in blood. Covered in it. Nancy was performing chest compressions, and Dusitn was sobbing, his hands covering his mouth, tears falling down his cheeks.

Steve found the biggest wound, it was huge, right across Eddie's chest. Steve moved his arms under Nancy's, put his hands on the wound, spending all of the power he had left into it, hoping that Eddie would be okay. Hoping that he would wake up.

"Keep going, Nancy!" He exclaimed, "Keep going!"

Tears were falling down Nancy's face too, and Steve could feel tears falling on his own cheeks. His chest felt tight. He was scared.

No. No. He had to keep going. He couldn't break now.

"Henderson, we have to go!" He heard Hopper call out, and Dustin screamed.

"No! No, I'm not leaving him!"

"Dustin, please! I can't lose you too!" Steve yelled, and Hopper pulled Dustin away.

"No! Eddie! Eddie!"

Steve's vision was turning black again, and he blinked it away. Dustin's cries got softer, Nancy's breaths got heavier, and the world continued to split open around them. Nonetheless, Steve gave it his all, exhaustion stinging his body as he tried to heal Eddie.

And he was healing. The skin was reforming, the cuts vanishing, and the large wound was soon gone. Steve went for the second wound. All the while, Nancy was giving Eddie chest compressions, and Eddie still wasn't breathing.

"SteveーSteve, I can't keep this up."

"Just a bit longer." Steve said, though he wasn't sure if his words were worth anything. "Just a bit longer."

So Nancy kept pushing on Eddie's chest, tipping his head back, and giving him breath. The trailers behind them were shaking. Steve gripped Eddie's wrist, searching for a pulse, a pulse that he couldn't find.

"Come on, Eddie! Come on!" Steve screamed, his voice hoarse, and Nancy began sobbing. "Come on!"

Finally, he felt it. A thrum of a heartbeat under his fingertips. He saw it, a chest lifting on its own, taking in breath.

They did it. Eddie did it. He was alive. He was alive.

Steve didn't waste a second. He picked Eddie up, and Nancy helped Steve to his feet, leading him quickly to the Munson's trailer. When they got in, the gate had expanded, and the sheets that were their ropes leading them down to their world were cut.

Without a word, Nancy grabbed the discarded sheets that were on the floor and wrapped them around Steve and Eddie tightly, securing Eddie to his chest in a bridal carry. Steve was barely holding onto him with one arm under Eddie's knees, but there was no other option. They had to go.

Looking up into the gate, he could see Jonathan on the other side, holding out his hand. Nancy grabbed a chair, pulled it closer to the gate in the ceiling, and Steve got onto it, his feet shaking with exhaustion. Jumping up through the gate, he managed to catch Jonathan's hand. Jonathan pulled them through, and Steve landed on the mattress on his back with a huff, Eddie still secure around his chest, his head lolling against Steve listlessly.

Jonathan made quick work of untying Eddie from Steve's grip, taking Eddie himself, and Steve stood up, stood on the chair that Jonathan was on seconds ago, and reached up to grab Nancy, who fell right on the mattress as soon as he moved out of the way. Grabbing her hand once again, he pulled her up, and the four of them ran out of the trailer and into the awaiting motorhome.

"He's alive, go to the hospital! Now!" Nancy screamed as soon as they were all in the vehicle, and Hopper put his foot on the gas, driving far from the trailer park at a breathtaking speed. One look outside told Steve all that he needed to know; the gate was spreading. Hawkins was in danger. Max was dead.

Breathing was hard. Everything felt too heavy. The noises around him were muffled, as if he was underwater.

Everyone was crying around him, Dustin especially. Eddie was placed across the couch in the back, Nancy was wrapping his remaining injuries with hasty bandages, and Jonathan was trying to comfort Will.

Steve couldn't say anything. He couldn't do anything. His vision went black for a few seconds, his whole body felt heavy, but he was determined to stay awake. They needed him. They all needed him. He couldn't fall unconscious now.

But, his body didn't agree with him on that.

He blinked, and the last thing he saw was Jonathan reaching for him, fear in his eyes, and a red, cloudy horizon behind him.