Tales of the Wheeler Family

by the Mandalorian terminator

Happily married Mike and El Wheeler are invited to attend a school reunion back in Hawkins with the rest of the Party. While in Hawkins they each must confront their past as they seek to unravel a web of plots and plans - some old, some new - that seek to destroy not just Hawkins but the world itself. Set in 2005

14. Chapter 14: Answers and Interrogration

Chapter 14:Answers and Interrogation

Author Notes:

Hi everyone it's me the Mandalorian terminator coming to you with another new chapter of my story Tales of The Wheeler Family. I'm really excited by this chapter. It's going to be really lengthy and detail elements of Mary's past. It's also going to show alternating POVs and tell several stories within a story to tell a story. LOL hope that makes sense. This chapter is also going to answer some questions you may have had so far about certain elements that have happened in previous chapters. Interested? Well then read on! I do not own Stranger Things. The only character that is my own is Mary/Ten. The rest belong to the Duffer Brothers.

There will also be a slightly explicit and raunchy smut scene between Lucas and Max in this chapter. I am putting this as a disclaimer if you don't like smut then skip the middle section of this chapter.

Also there is a few the Good Omens references in this chapter. They don't have any significant, other than they were fun.

---

"An Illustrated Man so dark, will own your very soul"

'Something Wicked (That way went)' –Vernian Process

---

Feverish images dragged him up from the dark. Screams, sobs, and maniacal laughter surrounded him. Lights flashed around him. He could vaguely hear several voices calling out to him. "Jim! Jim, can you hear me? Can he hear us?" A worried voice asked, unsure. He insistently recognised it as belonging to Joyce.

"Give him a minute. It will likely take a while for the deprogramming to fully take effect, Mrs Byers," A second voice–this one he didn't recognise– replied.

Then a third voice spoke, this one the clearest of the three. "Hop, you need to wake up. Dad we need you. I need you! Dad!"

Hopper opened his eyes, drifting back to consciousness.

Disoriented, he found himself lying on his back on a clean, white hospital bed. He stared upward at the bright ceiling lights hanging above him. His head throbbed and his throat was parched.

It all came back to him.

Mary. Vietnam. His head screaming in pain until...

Someone stirred to his right, and he realised that he wasn't alone. He tried to roll over to see who it was, but even the attempt was torture.

Heavy footsteps approached the bed. Jim squinted his eyes and saw Joyce's smiling face looking down in him. "Hey Hop you gave us all quite a scare for a while there," She said. Her voice was soft and a whisper.

"Joyce..." Hopper rasped, his throat sore from disuse.

"You're okay. You're safe. Sam Owens...I called him and he seems to have gotten there just in time."

"Good thing she did too," A familiar voice interjected from the doorway. Jim raised his head slightly to see it was Owens, wearing a white lab coat and carrying a small clipboard. He looked exactly as Jim had imagined: the same kind face that could turn serious very fast, albeit now with gray balding hair. "Good to see you again Chef-o."

"I'm retired..." Hopper muttered.

Owens shrugged. "So am I," he added playfully. "At least that's what I thought when the Berlin Wall came down. Next thing I knew Saddam Hussein had invaded Kuwait and Operation Desert Storm was underway." Owen paused briefly. "Hell of a retirement," He said wistfully.

"Wha-what happened to me?" Hopper asked meekly.

"Ten had a key-phrase, the song "Waist Deep in the big muddy", that shut you down. Put you in a hypnotic state that allowed her complete control over you. You would then carry out all orders put to you subconsciously completely unaware of what drove you." Owens recounted.

"I remember that song." Hopper realised. "Mary...she would sing that song to us every night in front of the campfire after a battle. She said it was a way for us to bond together and that it would be good for morale. All that time she was brainwashing us into her little puppets."

Hopper shook his head in disbelief at the thought and as his eyes flicked around the room he noticed for the first time Eleven leaned back, her eyes closed but hand remaining grasped with his, in a chair to the left of him.

He smiled at the sight of his daughter next to him. A memory flashed in his mind of the time he had tried to get her to watch an episode of Miami Vice with him but instead she had fallen asleep halfway through.

"El never left your side," Joyce explained softly so as not to wake her. "And neither did I. We both so worried about you."

Hopper grasped her hand with both of his and gave it a squeeze. He was happy that was all it took to wake her up. A smile appeared on her tired face as she sat up. "Hey Dad." Her tired voice almost cracked with tears.

Although it pained him, Hopper leaned forward and embraced Eleven as tightly as he could."I missed you..." Eleven said gently. "I missed you too..." Hopper replied contently.

Eleven leaned back still holding his hand. Hopper winced as he lay back down."You've been out for almost two weeks..." Eleven informed that. That was news to Hopper. Two weeks?

"That's how long it took to fully deprogram you from Mary's control," A third voice –the same one he had heard while unconscious – spoke. Joyce, Owens Eleven, and Hopper all looked to see the newcomer enter the room. Hopper's first impression of him was he looked like he had walked off the set of an old western movie. The thing that stood out to Hopper the most about the newcomer was that his light blue eyes looked like bombardier's eyes.

"This is Roland Deschain, an old friend of mine. When we discovered the hypnotic state you were in, I called on Roland to help you break free of whatever Ten had done to you," Owens introduced.

"How?"

"Your daughter isn't the only one with powers, Mr Hopper. I, too, have gifts: I can read people's thoughts. I was born with them. They've been both a blessing and a curse throughout my life. I was able to clean any residual programming from your mind. Admittedly it did take longer than expected but the point is you are free now," Roland replied as he approached Hopper's bedside with his hand outstretched. "Nice to meet you, Mr Hopper. I'm Mike's uncle."

Hopper accepted the handshake as he looked Roland up and down. This guy was Mike Wheeler's uncle? Jesus, I wouldn't like to piss this guy off.

"I'm El's father," Hopper said as nonchalantly as possible, trying to make it sound equally as impressive as Roland being related to Mike.

Roland nodded. "I'm aware."

"Once you're fully rested, we'll debrief you and the rest of your family," Owens said as he and Roland both left the room, allowing Hopper to conserve with his wife and daughter in peace.

---

As the two men walked quietly along the corridor, they passed by three guards on patrol. They were dressed in pale grey overalls, wore combat boots and carried black Mini Uzi 19mm sub-machine guns. Roland had noticed several thousand armed guards in and around the facility they were in.

While a person would think that having an amount of people almost matching the population of a small town in one building would make it cramped, this military facility was anything but. It was hard for many of those inside to believe it but this structure, which was somehow built in a matter of days, was on the same scale as the great monuments of the mighty empires of ancient Egypt, Rome, Mexico, India, and China. None of the staff of this modern day wonder of the world could say with certainty as to just how many hallways, how many shortage rooms, and how many rooms there were. The general consensus was that the number of all three was somewhere between five hundred and one thousand (a small gap to be sure).

But what everyone could be certain of where the details of this place, however few they may be. The building was a place of efficacy and practicality simply meant to get the job done as quickly and fully as possible. All of the surfaces in this place were bland and sterile white.

"Thanks again, Danny for assisting me with Jim," Owen said as the pair rounded a corner. "You've certainly come a long way from the scared little boy you where when I first met you all those years ago."

"People change. I've changed," Was all he said in reply. He had. His experience at the Overlook Hotel had been a baptism by fire, forever altering the course of his life. "I have never seen you shed tears," He recalled Karen complaining to him once while Danny had been on break from school.

There wasn't true, not really. One day when Danny had been four, his mother met him at the door when he had come home from school. She told him their collie, Rags, had been struck and killed by a truck that hadn't even bothered to stop. Danny hadn't cried when they buried him, although his dad had told him nobody would think less of Danny if he did, but Danny had cried when his mum had told him. Partly because it had been his first experience of death; mostly because it had been Danny's responsibility to make sure he was safely penned up in their backyard.

But after Overlook Hotel Danny had seldom cried aside from the occasional nightmares that had kept him up at night in the beginning.

He had to admit it had come as a surprise when Owens had contacted him. He had only met the man a handful of times when he was younger after the destruction of the Overlook Hotel in Colorado Rockies. (1)Owens had been a calming presence to Danny following the death of his father back then but he certainly never pictured him as a friend. The man may have been all smiles and sincere with his words of condolences but there had been something underneath, Danny had sensed, that made him wary of the man then and now.

"Will you be staying?" Owens asked suddenly.

"Why?"

"I may need you're ...particular assistance in interrogating Mary," Owens began before Danny stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Owens.

"I tried that before, remember?" Danny reminded him sternly, his eyes glaring at Owens. "Didn't exactly work the first time."

"I'm aware of what happened last time. And I wouldn't ask you unless it weren't absolutely necessary," Owen assured him.

"To who?"

"Everyone, Danny. You, me...your sister. Tell me, how is Karen doing? I must admit I was surprised to find out she's your sister. Especially considering what happened to your other niece," Owens calmly replied.

Danny's eyes narrowed at the thinly-veiled threat and before Owens knew it Danny had grabbed a hold of the scruff of his lab coat and slammed him up against the nearby wall. "I don't like threats," He said quietly as two guards who had been walking past immediately rushed to restrain Danny away from Owens.

"Not a threat. Just an observation," Owens said as he straightened himself up. "You don't end up joining CIA Black Ops thinking it's the Red Cross. It's part of my business to know everything, Danny." His eyes softened for a moment as he said, "Terrible what happened to your niece."

I knew there was something about you I didn't trust, Danny thought bitterly. "She was frightened and alone with no one to guide her or teach her. I should have been there for her. Maybe if I had she would still be alive..." He let the possibility hang in the air as he stood still, reflecting. Abby Stone had been so young, so full of life and curiosity about her Shinning abilities. At least that was how she was the last time Danny had seen her.

He didn't know the full details of what had happened but it had come without warning. One minute his half-sister Lucy Stone was alive and well, the next she was dead. Stroke, they had told him at the funeral. Danny could still remember the small gathering that had come to say goodbye to Lucy, with Abby distraught and confused about what would happen to her now.

Her father, David Stone, whom Danny had gotten along well with, had himself passed away the year before after suffering a brain aneurysm.

The old bitch had ended up taking custody of her. Margaret Stone, David's mother. David had mentioned her a couple of times to Danny, about how she had devoted her life to being a Christian who believed everything was sinful, even sexual intercourse, including within marriage. According to David, when Margaret had raised her she had been a kind, loving, sweet mother, the kind any child would want to have. But over time she had developed an untreated schizophrenia (at least that was what David believed it to be) that worsened as she aged and as a result of her untreated condition, David had served all ties with his mother.

According to David, Margaret lived a life of isolation and solitude. She had no friends or contact with any other relatives, but David found out later that she was at least stable enough to keep a full-time job working on the speed iron and folder down at the local Blue Ribbons Laundry in downtown of Chamberlain, Maine.

Abby had waved at him before Margaret ushered her into her car and drove off. That was the last time Danny saw his niece alive.

Not that Danny had known that at the time. His thoughts were preoccupied with getting to the Dark Tower at that point. Perhaps it had been naivety on his part, believing Abby would be safer with her grandmother than with a Gunslinger who was roaming across the world on a quest. In hindsight Danny should have fought for custody of his niece but hey they always say hindsight is a beautiful thing.

"What do you intend to do with Mary if she won't talk?" Danny inquired; changing the subject. Abby was not something he wanted to discuss. That wound ran too deep and opening it would only cause more pain.

"That depends on our wizard friends," Owens replied.

"You know they can't be trusted. Once they get what they want they'll put a memory charm on everyone in this building and leave like nothing happened," Danny said with quiet distrust.

"At the moment our interests are aligned. Both the British Ministry of Magic and MACUSA want to question Ten and I want to ensure she remains in custody so our three organisations have come to an agreement," Owens said, "MACUSA and the British will have first crack at interrogating Mary. Once they have what information they want from her, she's all ours."

"And where do I fit in?"

"I said I would only allow them to interrogate her if you were there to assist."

"Why me?"

"Because I trust you more than I trust whoever MACUSA will send. You can keep an eye on their interrogator; make sure Ten is not damaged or harmed in any permanent way."

"I bet they took that well," Danny remarked.

"Amazingly the British were fine with it. It was MACUSA that disagreed with my alterations to the agreement. Apparently they don't like you." Owens let out a small laugh, "Can't imagine why."

"We have...a history," Danny admitted as Owens gestured to a side door they were approaching and opened it for Danny to enter. Inside, there was a single conference table and two figures seated at the head. As soon as Danny saw who one of them was, he swore. Loudly.

"Which is why they insisted on talking to you before the interrogating," Owens said bowing his head apolitically at Danny before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a tall black, broad shouldered wizard. He was bald, and wore a single gold hoop earring.

"Some refreshments?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked in the slow, deep reassuring voice that he was famous for and he drew his wand so rapidly that Danny barely saw it; with a casual flick, a dusty bottle and three glasses appeared in mid-air. The bottle tipped and poured a generous measure of honey-coloured liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated to each person in the room.

"Madam Rosmerta's finest, oak-matured mead," said Shacklebolt, raising his glass to Danny and the second man in the room, who caught hold of his own and sipped it slowly, his eyes never leaving Danny.

Danny, meanwhile, ignored his glass completely and with a quick flick of his own wrist it vanished completely. He wasn't going to drink with these people, no matter how friendly an aura Shacklebolt had. "What's he doing here?" Danny demanded, pointing to the second man.

"Daniel," The man greeted with icy distain. Robert Abernathy was in his middle fifties, yet hard as a man of twenty. Even seated, he was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders, and a flat stomach. His thin arms were corded with muscle. Where his once-thick golden hair had begun to recede, he had commanded his barber to shave his head; Abernathy did not believe in half measures. He razored his lip and chin as well, but kept his side-whiskers, two great thickets of wiry golden hair that covered most of his cheeks from ear to jaw. His stern unflinching eyes were a pale green.

"Mr Abernathy is here representing the Magical Congress to oversee the interrogation of the Muggle woman," said Shacklebolt. "As will I be representing the British Ministry."

"You're an Auror?" Danny asked, stunned. "And whose hands did you grease to get that job?"

"Hard work, Daniel," Abernathy replied harshly, "Not that you would know anything about that considering you never finished school."

"That's because I chose to leave," Danny reminded him, his eyes glaring back at his former Principal.

"Yes, I remember." Abernathy said coldly.

"And I seem to remember that your grandfather was a follower of Grindelwald, wasn't he?" Danny shot back.

Danny was glad to see that Abernathy now looked annoyed. "That's in the past, Daniel. My father and I have worked hard to remove that unfortunate stain from our family," He replied, a slight edge to his tone of voice.

"Oh I don't think so. Especially if the rumours of you running for President of MACUSA are true," Danny remarked bitterly, "Although god help this country if you ever become President."

Danny had come across the rumour recently while reading through the addition of the New York Ghost, searching for any reference or mention of the whereabouts of Randall Flagg (2).The current President of MACUSA's term would end next year and already there was speculation about who would soon announce they were running. Most pundits assumed that the Vice President, Thomas Picquery (the great-grandson of former MACUSA President Seraphina Picquery) would be the first to announce he was running for President, although many pundits also admitted that Thomas had been chosen for the running mate position more so because of his last name rather than to balance the ticket or for any ideological balance. Most rated him a pretty poor politician and privately believed, if he ever did become President, he would be poor at that too.

Abernathy had, when asked by journalists about whether he had any interest in running for President, played coy and told them he hadn't yet made his decision.

"As I told the journalists Daniel, I will announce my intention once I have made my decision," Abernathy curtly reminded him.

Seeing Abernathy again brought back memories of his time at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had received an invitation to attend the school two months after Overlook Hotel and though his mother was hesitant at first for him to attend, she eventually agreed that he should go to Ilvermorny. And so when the start of the school year arrived Danny was placed in house Horned Serpent. Danny had also caused quite a stir and shock to many by refusing a wand. He had, instead, become proficient in wand-less magic and nonverbal spells, much to the suspicion and anger of then-Principal Abernathy, who also turned out to be Head of Horned Serpent.

As an unusually talented and very good-looking boy, he had drawn attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of his arrival. During his time at Ilvermorny Danny had become close to two teachers in particular: Defence against the Dark Arts teacher Johann Konrad (3) and Potions Mistress Alma LeFay Peregrine. (4)They had become like surrogate parents to him while he was at Ilvermorny School.

Until Principal Abernathy had them both fired, Danny thought bitterly. Abernathy had taken a great delight in making taunts and snide remarks at Danny from the moment he had meet him.

"They were both dangers to the school and the students, Daniel," Abernathy said, as if reading Danny's mind. "Johann Konrad was teaching illegal spells and curses that were unsuitable for students. Not to mention the blatant use of necromancy he performed to students in class in direct violation of the Laws of Magic. There's a reason necromancy is a banned subject at Ilvermorny. As for Miss Peregrine...yes, I recall she was quite fond of you. Tell me, did you enjoy her touch?"

"Nothing inappropriate happened and you know it!" Danny retorted loudly as a wave of hot, prickly anger swept through his body.

"She may have been a pleasant enough woman but the rumours about her flew fast and thin around the school from the moment I hired her," Abernathy continued as though Danny hadn't said anything, "That she liked little boys. Including muggle-born wizards and squibs. Especially those wizards with unusually high and powerful magic."

"Miss Peregrine was looking out for those who were marginalized and stigmatized because she actually gave a damn about her students," Danny countered.

"Regardless, the accusations against her forced my hand." Abernathy said coldly.

"Accusations? You mean lies." Danny remembered the looks and hushed whispers Miss Peregrine had received from students and teachers alike all too well. "Made up by teachers who were jealous of her and her genuine compassion. Not that it mattered to you whether or not they were true or false. You saw an opportunity to deprive me of two of the only teachers that I actually liked and you took it, didn't you."

"As usual Daniel you think everything is always about you," Abernathy noted, "It isn't. There are more important things then your petty grievances."

Danny balled his hands into fists in his pants pockets as he struggled to control his anger. He felt as though his body was generating waves of hatred so powerful it seemed incredible that Abernathy could not feel them burning him. Abernathy always had a way of getting under his skin. "You really think you're going to get anything out of Mary?" Danny asked Abernathy, deciding to press on with the matter at hand. "I tried to read her mind and she was able to resist by showing me imagines of the Vietnam War. If a Legilimen like myself couldn't get anything out of her what makes you think you can do any better?"

"But you were a subpar Legilimen at best, Daniel," Abernathy sneered sardonically, "It's no wonder you weren't able to properly enter a simple no-Maj's mind."

Danny grit his teeth in frustration as he tried to ignore the jab. "And how exactly are you going to get information from Mary?"

"You are a scalpel, Daniel. I am a hammer. I will use Veritaserum to get the answers we seek. Once you have tried your way, of course." Abernathy answered with a hint of smugness, as if it were an obvious answer. "Though judging from experience I predict you will fail just as before."

"And what exactly is it you want to learn from Mary?" Danny asked.

Abernathy and Shacklebolt both shared a look with each other before Shacklebolt spoke: "Several Death Eaters have been seen recently in the vicinity of Vought International along with Mary. We want to know who she's meeting with and why."

"Death Eaters? They're still around?" Danny asked in disbelief.

"Yes Daniel they are. Just because Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange are dead does not mean that those who share their ambitions or ideology are gone. Both the Magical Congress and the British Ministry of Magic have joined together to find and uproot any surviving members of the Death Eaters, be they here in the United Sates or in Great Britain," Abernathy declared in a patriotic voice.

Danny scoffed. "As noble as that sounds, is there any other evils you intend to confront? I have seen Randall Flagg, faced the Crimson King (5) in the Dark Tower. I don't recall MACUSA or the British Ministry of Magic rushing to help when Gilead fell or during the Battle of Jericho Hill," He said, his voice full of rage. (6)

"The affairs of the multiverse are not our present concern, Daniel." Abernathy replied dismissively.

"Not your present concern?!" Danny shouted. "What affects the multiverse affects everyone, Robert."

"The Crimson King and the Dark Tower are nothing but stories told to frighten young witches and wizards, Daniel," Abernathy responded, "As mythic as the White Walkers that once roamed the earth."

"I climbed the Dark Tower, stood face to face with the Crimson King. I can tell you he is as real as you or I are," Danny replied.

"I'm sure." Abernathy said lazily, though it was clear he didn't believe Danny.

"We have learned from our past with Grindelwald and Voldemort. We cannot allow any dark witch or wizard to flourish with impunity." Shacklebolt said, trying to intervene between the two.

"The Magical Congress is surrounded by enemies on all sides, Daniel. We cannot act unilaterally without the assistance of allies like the British. If not for the Unseelie Accords the world would be at war with every manner of magical creature." Abernathy reminded sharply.

The Unseelie Accords that Abernathy was referring to were a set of agreements, similar to the non-magical Geneva Conventions, that governed behaviour between its signatories, each of which were the major powers in the magic world. It had been instigated by Queen Mab of the Faeries and ruler of the Winter Court in the aftermath of the Second World War. The Accords included protocols for etiquette, hospitality, formal duels and neutral ground. The many signatories included numerous Ministries of Magic from across the world, MACUSA, the Archive, the CEO of Monoc Securities, a semi-immortal shapeshifter guru in the Ukraine, the Vampire Courts, the White Council, both Faerie Courts, Vlad Dracul, the LaChaise Clan and numerous other groups. The Gods had abstained from attending. And they weren't the only ones. (7)

"Vought didn't sign the Accords, did they?" Danny reminded Abernathy.

"No. Despite the best attempts of Queen Mab and my predecessor Leonard Spencer-Moon, Vought refused to sign the Accords. The newly burgeoning company was on the rise thanks to the success of Compound V and Soldier Boy and they had little interest in being beholden to anyone or anything. Ever since then MACUSA and the Ministry of Magic have been suspicious of them and their intentions especially given the large number of superheroes emerging following the Cold War. The fact that the Death Eaters are meeting in the company's headquarters is alarming." Shacklebolt explained. "This is why it is so paramount that we learn what they are planning."

"Fine, I'll help you, Minister but on one condition." Danny said finally.

"You're not in any position to make demands –" Abernathy began but Danny ignored him.

"Go ahead, Danny." Said Shacklebolt warmly.

"My family's memories are to be left unaltered. No Memory Charm or Confundus Charm is to be placed on any of them or their friends," Danny explained.

"Out of the question!" Abernathy shouted his voice almost hysterical with anger. "They are muggles! They cannot be permitted to have knowledge of our existence. Such would be a violation of the Statute of Secrecy. Why do you think we are allowing the no-Maj Owens to share our history with your family? Once we have retrieved the information from this Mary, we shall place Memory Charms on every single no-Maj in this building. They won't remember any of this happening."

"Do I look like l give a damn about the Statute of Secrecy?" Danny replied in a low dangerous voice.

"MACUSA does not make exceptions for anyone, especially not for someone who shows insolence and insubordination like you do, Daniel!" Abernathy spat to Danny's livid face.

Danny's hand flew towards his gun, but Abernathy was too quick for him; he had drawn his wand before Danny's fingers had even reached for the barrel; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backwards as if punched; as he slammed into the room's wall and slid to the floor, Abernathy crossed the room in a few strides and dropped to his knees besides Danny. He pointed his wand deliberately at Danny's nose.

"You dare attack me?" Abernathy questioned. "You are as brazen as ever I see. If it were up to me you would never have even set foot in Ilvermorny. But, unfortunately, the school board of Governors overruled me and allowed you to attendant after the death of your no-Maj father." He now moved his wand a little closer to Danny's eyes.

Abernathy's wand was 10 inches, hazel with Unicorn hair and unyielding. Danny vaguely recalled that hazel wands were sensitive and reflected the owner's emotional state.

"Ah I see you looking at my wand. It belonged to Ethelred the Ever-Read, who was infamous for cursing innocent people for no discernible reason and taking offence to anything and everything. I tracked him down and engaged in a duel that costed me my old wand. So, I took his wand as a trophy. Had it ever since. It's imbued with powerful dark magic and is constantly seeking to corrupt me. It takes exceptional willpower to resist the temptation. Although for you I would make the exception, Daniel." Abernathy sneered.

"ENOUGH!" Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice bellowed out. "Let him up, Robert. Now!"

Abernathy lowered his wand and moved it away from Danny's face as he watched Danny slowly get back to his feet, glaring at Abernathy.

"An empty threat, I assure you, Minister," Abernathy said as he pocked his wand.

"If you ever," Danny hissed in a threatening tone, "strike me with a curse again, it will be the last time you ever use a wand. You have tempted me sore a few hundred times during my time at school. If it won't for the fact that you were Principal, I would have killed you during the first semester. But we're not at school now." Suddenly Danny's gun was pointing straight at Abernathy's forehead. It had happened so far that neither Abernathy nor Shacklebolt had seen him draw the weapon.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear, Abernathy," Danny began, "I will help interrogate Mary. But my family's memories will be left intact. If they are tempered with in any way, I will put a bullet between your eyes. Understand?"

"You have not changed at all, Daniel. Still the same arrogant boy you were in school. No respect for our ways or rules. Except now, you think violence is your ally. In another life, you would have made an excellent dark wizard." Abernathy sneered in response.

"And you, sir, an excellent Principal." And with that, Danny swept out of the room.

---

Sam Owens was not a happy man.

Dealing with a case that put him at risk of being on the receiving end of Mary's powers had him both worried and annoyed.

He knew first-hand she was unpredictable, even while in Pennhurst she had kept many of the guards and even some of the other prisoners on edge.

The fact that both MACUSA and the Ministry of Magic wanted to interrogate her had increased his sense of worry.

Working with wizards was always a double-edged sword. Owens knew they greatly distrusted muggle spy organisations and only worked alongside them unless the situation was severe. He also knew that with a simple flick of their wand they could erase your memory, which made working with them even more dubious.

Of the two wizards Owens trusted Shacklebolt the most. The two men had first met during the Iran Hostage Crisis during the late 70's in which Shacklebolt had been tasked with ensuring several underage Iranian witches and wizards got out of the country safely and were resettled in Britain. Owens and Shacklebolt had gotten along well together during that ordeal and had kept in touch, slowly over the years becoming close and personal friends.

Abernathy, on the other hand, was a different story. He clearly had an aura of superiority about him and judging by the reaction from Danny it was clear that the two did not get along.

He had been quite surprised to see Danny at Hawkins. He had first met him in the aftermath of the destruction of the Overlook Hotel. Owens had been sent there to acetone what had happened and if the fire involved the CIA in some form or another. He had been a lowly field agent back then and had, at first, thought it was simply grunt work. Instead he had ended up comforting a frightened scared boy.

Owens had managed to calm the boy's nerves and during the resulting psychological evaluations that undertook on Danny had learned the full story of what took place at the Overlook Hotel. That had been Owens's first forte into the world of supernatural that would continue to follow his career as he moved up the ladder.

The last time he had seen him was when Owens had asked Danny for a personal favour in attempting to read Mary's mind while she was in Pennhurst. Unfortunately his attempt had ended in failure and Owens didn't think he would ever see Danny again. Until now.

As Owens survived the group in front of him, he wondered, for a few seconds, if he had done something in another life that caused him and these particular people to always end up colliding.

Max, Lucas, Jonathan, Steve were all lounging on their chairs with bored expressions on their faces. In comparison Nancy, Mike, Dustin, Joyce and Eleven were all sitting up straight looking eager and excited. Hopper, out of his hospital room and mostly recovered (albeit with a slight headache), sat motionless. Mike and Eleven's children had been left at the Wheeler household. The last thing Owens wanted was more people involved especially children.

Danny stood to the far back, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face directed at Abernathy.

Abernathy stood to the left of Owens, glancing at everyone with disdain while Shacklebolt sat on Owens's right, a pleasant smile on his face.

Out of everyone, Dustin and Mike were clearly the most excited, like small children about to unwrap presents on Christmas.

Owens half smiled. He couldn't blame them. Discovering new things, things you previously thought impossible, was generally wonderous. Or terrifying. Sometimes both.

"I still can't believe that we're dealing with magic," Dustin said, shaking his head, tone one of mingled puzzlement and delight. "I mean, this really is magic, right?"

"Yes this really is magic," Owens replied, feeling this was the best place to start his debrief. "And while most people who believe that they can do magic are either frauds, delusional or possess some other superhuman ability explainable by science, there are some humans who have evolved or otherwise developed the ability to wield that force."

"Whoa, wait up. There are actual human witches and wizards?" Mike asked.

"Yes."

"Oh my god, that is so cool! What are they like?" Dustin asked eagerly.

Owens was silent for a long time.

"Like ordinary people. Some good, some bad. They tend to be more paranoid, though," he said eventually before looking apologetically at Shacklebolt. "No offence."

"None taken," Shacklebolt said simply.

"They're an isolated society, and in Europe in particular, they tend to be very bad at dealing with anything outside of that society, regarding it as beneath them," Owens went on. "It isn't really surprising, considering they were flying when everyone else was still riding horses at best. In North America, it's a little different, with a greater focus on integration, but they tend to be very secretive."

"Why? They can't honestly think that we'll start up the witch trials and burn them alive..." Nancy began in a joking tone, then trailed off as she noticed Abernathy's scowl at the mention. "They actually think that?"

"They have reason," Owens said. "A fully trained witch or wizard can be an extremely serious threat to anyone who does not know what they're capable of and getting into. If they're combat trained, it's worse. If they're combat trained and have an adequate knowledge of non-magical technology, they could be a complete nightmare. They have a lot of strange and dangerous powers up to and including mind control and memory erasure. The former is a capital crime in some jurisdictions, however, and the second is only used in dire need by those who aren't trained in its use. But that doesn't matter. What they can do marks them out as both different and a threat to humanity's status as most powerful species on the planet. Humanity as a whole tends to react badly to people who are different and threats."

"So, if they have all these crazy powers, why aren't they ruling us?" Lucas asked. "Why aren't we bowing down to our wizarding overlords?"

"Because they're afraid of us. They aren't the only supernatural beings out there, and as far as I can tell, they mainly disdain us, think we should be wiped out or enslaved, or regard us as so weak and insignificant as not to be worth paying attention to," Owens explained. "But equally, they come down very hard on anyone who tries to make their existence more widely known."

"Why?"

"The numbers advantage. Sure, they could rule through fear, but eventually, fear turns to anger. Wizards form a very small percentage of the global population, and they know very well how dangerous "muggles" can be. And a lot of them still think we're at seventeenth century technology levels," Owens said. "If they understood ordinary modern tech, let alone what UNIT, Torchwood, Monarch and similar organisations possess, they would be terrified."

"Okay... how powerful do they get?"

"It varies. The Antichrist, for example, nearly ended the world in 1990."

"Whoa whoa the Antichrist? Are you joking?" Steve asked, shocked.

"No. Adam's a nice kid. He decided against it, in the end."

"Hold up," Max said. "You know the Antichrist? Isn't he all evil and stuff?"

"We're acquainted," Owens said calmly. "And he isn't. He's half demon, half angel – human, basically. Neutral by default. He's a decent guy. Keeps his head down."

"If you're the son of Satan, I suppose I can see why you wouldn't be broadcasting your existence," Jonathan said, blinking. "This is a whole new layer of weird. I mean, if the Antichrist exists, then so do Heaven and Hell, right? And God, with a capital G."

"That's right. Although Hell's actually called Tartarus and Heaven's real name is Elysium. But yes, Zeus and the rest of the Gods are real. Odin too," Shacklebolt said.

"Don't invoke their names," Abernathy snapped quietly.

"Gods and wizards don't get along. We tend to try and stay out of each other's way," Shacklebolt explained, noticing the puzzled looks on the Party's faces at Abernathy's remark.

"As for how powerful, there are maybe five wizards and witches on the planet that could constitute to be a threat to humanity. And then you have the occasional Dark Lords. Like Emperor Palpatine," Owens added.

"Lord Voldemort, for example, was quite powerful in Britain during both the First and Second Wizarding Wars," Shacklebolt continued.

"And there were two in Europe during World War II. The chief Dark Wizard of the time, Grindelwald, controlled Nazi Germany and the Third Reich through a decidedly lopsided alliance with Adolf Hitler, one that he quickly came to dominate. His empire extended further, too, from the Atlantic coast of Western Europe to the Pacific coast of East Asia. His second in command, a necromancer, marginally less powerful, engineered World War I," Owens said.

"Heinrich Kemmler," Danny said, speaking for the first time from the back of the room. "He was a madman. A monster. But brilliant. He learned how to bind to his will not only dead flesh, but shades–to rend them asunder and devour them to feed his own power." (8)

"I see you did pay attention in history class after all, Daniel," Abernathy sneered spitefully.

Danny ignored this jab but resumed glaring at his former Principal.

"Whoa, that is so awesome!" Dustin exclaimed excited. "Wizards actually fought in World War II?"

"The Earth is so old, and home to so many strange things, that there is hardly an inch of ground that was never home to a shrine, or a god, or a battle, or some magical oddity. Even under the ground, there are old gods, old prophecies, old lost things," Abernathy said eloquently.

"So what happened to this necromancer guy? Is he still around?" Dustin asked.

"Unlikely. Some of our wizarding allies made sure that he was very, very dead. The battle indirectly caused the Buin Zahra earthquake of 1962 in Iran, resulting in well over 10,000 fatalities," Owens said.

"Not that this isn't all fascinating but what does it have to do with Mary?" Hopper asked impatiently.

"Mary has been seen meeting with several Death Eaters, who are followers of You Know Who –" Abernathy began before Shacklebolt interrupted him.

"He means Lord Voldemort. We use to be so afraid of him we wouldn't dare say his name instead referring to him as You Know Who," Shacklebolt said before turning back to Abernathy. "Please continue."

"The Death Eaters have been meeting with Mary inside the Vought Headquarters in New York. We want to know what their planning and who these members are," Abernathy continued, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

"And you think Mary is just going to give you this information?" Hopper asked.

"Depending on if Daniel's abilities in Legilimency have improved," Abernathy inclined his head slightly to Danny, "Then I shall use Veritaserum to get her to tell us the answers we seek."

"Veritaserum is a powerful truth serum. The potion effectively forces the drinker to answer any questions put to them truthfully," Shacklebolt explained to them.

"I'd save the trouble if I were you," Hopper said gruffly, "Mary's not going to tell you anything even under a truth serum."

"And how do you know this?" Abernathy inquired.

Hopper found all eyes on him now. He took a deep breath. "Because we were in Vietnam together. Mary was my commanding officer," Hopper announced.

"What?" Almost everyone chimed in.

"And you never thought to tell Eleven "oh actually I know one of your sisters"?" Mike shouted, glaring at Hopper.

"My time in Vietnam isn't something I want to remember," Hopper replied honestly." I was a young and reckless solider and she..." For a moment Hopper's voice became shaky as he continued, "She was a psychopath, a monster. For god's sake she had me brainwashed and I had no idea. If you have her here then the best thing to do is put a bullet through her head. It's what she deserves. Because if you don't and she escapes, the people that die as a result will be on your hands."

"We are more than capable of keeping this squib secured," Abernathy said in a tone that suggested he didn't take Hopper's warning seriously.

"We have taken every precaution in detaining her," Shacklebolt added. "There are several protective charms placed around her cell. Not to mention the security Sam has put in place. Trust me, she's going nowhere."

"You don't know her like I do," Hopper replied. "It's not just her powers that make her dangerous. It's her manipulation. The moment she opens her mouth, she can twist your words and your thoughts to suit her."

Hopper glanced down at Eleven. "I'm sorry for not telling you, El. In hindsight, I never put two and two together that she would have been from the Lab," He said sincerely and apologetically.

Eleven glared briefly at her father before turning to face Owens.

"You're not the only one who's had dealings with her, Jim," Owens said. "I spent many years trying to get her to open up whilst she was in Pennhurst and I know–"

"Whoa hold on," Nancy interrupted. "Mary was in Pennhurst? But I've been there before. I never saw her."

"Mary was in Pennhurst from 1975 to was a danger both to herself and the other prisoners. So she was moved to isolation. When she first arrived she wouldn't stop screaming. So," Owens paused, a look of regret on his face, "I gave her large amounts of LSD to quiet her."

"You drugged her?" Eleven interjected glaring at him.

"Yes. Unfortunately the LSD seemed to work too well and Mary quickly became addicted to it. Not something I'm proud of," Owen said as a look of sadness passed across his face.

"You shouldn't be," Eleven snapped, rising to her feet. "Mary was a soldier; she fought for this country even if you disagree with the war. She came back scared and alone and you decided to lock her up in a mental hospital, pumping drugs into her. No wonder she hates the government."

"It was Brenner who decided Mary be put in Pennhurst after the Fall of Saigon. I just happened to be the one overseeing her while she was there," Owens said, as if he was trying to shift blame which only infuriated Eleven more.

"I don't care who decided it! As far as I'm concerned you're no better than he was. I know what it's like to be imprisoned against your will, Doctor Owens. How that affects you psychologically. I can only imagine what it did to Ten," Eleven shouted.

"It's not that simple, Eleven," Danny said, causing everyone to turn and look at him. "Sam requested as a favour that I attempt to gain access to Mary's mind. Yes I can read minds before you ask. Some call it Legilimency, others call it Shinning. When I tried to enter her mind, all Mary allowed me to see was her time in Vietnam, the Viet Cong she murdered. Beyond that Mary wouldn't let me see anything else in her mind. But what I saw from her time in Vietnam showed me what kind of person she is. Jim's right, she is a monster. Mary may have suffered in her past, but she was no saint."

Eleven considered this. She didn't know much about Mary's past aside from the brief mentions that she had served in Vietnam and had been imprisoned in Pennhurst. This could be my chance to learn more about her past, Eleven thought with a hint of excitement.

"I want to see her," She demanded.

"Absolutely not!" Hopper bellowed in shock, leaping to his feet. "El, you can't trust anything she says. If you allow Mary to get inside your head, she will manipulate and charm you into getting what she wants."

"He's right," Owens agreed. "But we have taken precautions. We've put a special collar that inhibit her use of her powers on Mary. Vought built them in the case their superheroes go rogue and the CIA Black Ops were fortunate to have gotten ours hands on a handful of these inhibitor collars. Mary wouldn't be able to use her powers during the interrogation."

"That's not enough with her. Believe me," Hopper remarked.

"We can stop her from speaking," Abernathy said. "A simple Silencing Spell would do the trick. But it would make questioning her rather hard."

"I want to see her," Eleven repeated, more firmly this time.

"She wants to see you too. All of you in fact," Owens replied, frowning slightly.

"Curious, isn't it?" Abernathy mused. "You five particularly muggles," He pointed in the direction of Mike, Eleven, Lucas, Dustin and Max. "Always seem to be inexplicably drawn together, so I have read. And now you're all back together, once again involved in danger. As if by fate."

Upon hearing that, Danny's eyes flicked over to them, sizing them all up with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

"Why I wonder?" Abernathy continued, though this time it was more to himself than to them.

The Party looked at each over, silently wondering the same thing, before Mike rose to his feet."Lead the way," He said, although there was a look of concern on his face.

Noticing this and taking Mike's hand into her own to soothe his apprehension, his wife said, "Mike, I know you're worried but this is something I have to do. Beside, just like Owens said, all we will be doing is talking. Nothing more. There's no way she can harm me."

Although Mike knew that what Eleven said was true, he was still nervous about this. But he also knew it was her choice and not his. As much as he didn't like this idea one small bit, the paladin forced a small smile and nodded his head. Eleven gave Mike a big hug that the paladin returned in earnest.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eleven saw Dr. Owens look conflicted. Even though the doctor was one hundred percent sure no harm would fall on any of them, the exchange between Eleven and Mike added to pre-existing feelings within him, mainly guilt. Guilt at having not done enough to reach out to Mary back at Pennhurst, at having to ask Eleven to confront her sister.

But it could not be helped. There was no other way, as much as he hoped for one. Mary had been averse to talking to him back then. And thirteen years since her escape of Pennhurst likely didn't make her any more receptive to him. But maybe she would be to others?

So, with his head slightly bowed and his eyes closed, Dr. Owens spoke with a voice of reluctance searching for answers but not finding any that soothe the nerves.

"Follow me, everyone, follow me. Let us go see Mary."

---

With that, the doctor led the large group out of the conference room and out into the corridor.

Shacklebolt and Abernathy followed close behind, with quiet impassive looks on their faces.

As the mass of adults followed Doctor Owens, their faces all had the same solemn expression, their minds roaring with activity. Though it was a short walk, to many it felt like they were travelling to some uncharted new continent. What would they find inhabiting this new landmass that was Mary? A noble savage living in a Eden of eternal sunshine or a heathen less than human at home in a dark forest of wordlessness?

With heavy thoughts still gripping their heads, the group stepped with heavy feet towards their mysterious captive. The heaviest thoughts belonged, of course, to Doctor Owens, who found himself succumbing to the cold, death-like dread he thought was exorcised nearly thirteen years ago. This dread had always been felt whenever he had attempted to get Mary to open up. Mary had seemed to know this and had revelled in the fact that she could make him feel both dread and uncomfortable with her mere presence. Mary had always been in Owens's mind this slain dragon that had not stayed slain, not stayed repressed. And now that he had to once again confront this dragon, a set of new trepidations trickled into his mind.

'What can of worms are we about to open? Why can't the past just die and go quietly without fuss? How many times must my mistakes and failures haunt me, torment me?'

Meanwhile, bringing up the rear were Danny and, surprisingly, Joyce. She had deliberately decided to hang back to speak with Danny.

"So...you're Mike's uncle?" Joyce asked, attempting to make small talk.

"I am." Danny replied simply.

"Karen and I were friends before we become sisters-in-laws and well she's never mentioned you before," Joyce said.

"That doesn't surprise me. Karen and I don't exactly have a great relationship. Been that way since we were children," Danny admitted.

"So you are a wizard, right? Like those other two?" Joyce asked, as if for final confirmation.

Danny nodded.

"So since you're a wizard that means people can come back, right? As ghosts." Joyce asked urgently.

Danny hesitated, then said, "Not everyone can come back as a ghost."

"What do you mean?" said Joyce quickly.

"Only ... only wizards."

"So–so my son won't come back? He died recently, you see. We just buried him yesterday in fact and I was just wondering...since magic is real, if he could come back." Joyce said, refusing to be deflected.

"Wizards can leave an imprint of themselves upon the earth, to walk palely where their living selves once trod," said Danny. "But very few wizards choose that path."

"Why not?" said Joyce. "Why doesn't everyone come back? Why aren't there ghosts everywhere? Why–?"

"Because it is a feeble imitation of life." Danny said softly. "As a ghost, you're unable to smell, touch or even taste. You just exist."

"But Will would be here with me and his brother!" Joyce said exasperatedly. "That would be enough."

"With any luck your son has...gone on and left the hell we live in now." Danny replied. "Believe me, death would be a blessing."

With that, Danny continued to walk on with the group leaving Joyce to quietly contemplate what she had been told. Joyce sighed to herself. Upon learning of the existence of magic, there was a brief glimmer of hope that Will could come back. But after everything, it had finally sunk in.

Will was gone.

It was time for her to pick up the pieces and what was next. Joyce just wasn't sure how to do that yet. But she knew one thing with absolute certainty – she wouldn't be doing it alone.

Of the group, the one closet to the haunted and tormented Owens leading them was, unsurprisingly, Hopper. He had a look that none of the others had ever seen before. Hopper who had faced down government agents and Demodogs, who had survived harsh conditions in a Russian prison. His face had all of the good cheer of a mouse about to be disembowelled by an angry owl. Like Owens, he had past experience with Mary and had a similar feeling of dread about having to confront her again.

You can do this, he told himself. You know what to expect from her. You'll be ready for her mind games.

Owens seemed to slow his pace and the group were now standing in front of a large square metallic door. Two guards carrying machine guns stood on either side of the door. "I'll go first," Sam announced first as he prepared to unlock the door and once again come face to face with the dragon.

---

Everyone else huddled around the single monitor that was connected to the camera watching over the cell Mary was in. Surrounding this screen was a series of odd looking devices that seemed to be gauging different things like changes in Mary's breathing, heartbeat, and brainwave activity among other things (likely to help Owens keep track of whether or not Mary was telling the truth). As they looked at the screen, they saw two mismatched eyes staring up at them, eyes that shined and conveyed confidence.

Jim Hopper stared back down at the mismatched eyes, his own unblinking in concern and focused at the monitor screen like a laser beam. The former police chief was so focused that he didn't notice the finger weakly tapping on his shoulder. After a few more powerful pokes, Hopper finally looked away from the camera's live feed and saw Joyce to his side. Retaining her abilities at observation, Joyce easily figured out the reason for Hopper's worry.

"I know you're concerned about Mary being here Jim but as Owens said we're just going to be talking to her." Joyce said to Hopper. "Plus, they've taken security precautions to keep her detained."

"It's her ability to talk that concerns me," Hopper said. "You don't know her like I do, Joyce. She's a master manipulator."

Both Joyce and Hopper turned their eyes back to the monitor, back to the doctor and Frankenstein's monster.

---

Mary took another look around now at her surroundings in the gloom: a table, two chairs, a single electric light. This had been her world for the last ten hours: a grey, windowless room and three humourless guards. Her throat burned with thirst in the stagnant air.

She'd been given no food, no water.

Ten fucking hours. She drummed her fingers on the table.

"Stop it," said the guard.

Mary sighed. "Are you allowed to keep me here this long?"

"No."

"Does that mean I can go then?"

"No."

"Can I at least be given my jelly babies back?"

"No."

"Come on! They're hardly dangerous." They had taken all of her belongings, placed this ridiculous collar around her neck then taken her down a labyrinth of underground corridors and unceremoniously dumped into her current interrogation. Mary didn't move as a fly buzzed its way towards her. She didn't even get close as the fly was zapped from the magical force field surrounding her. The fly fell to the ground, dead.

Mary's eyes glanced down at the dead fly as she remained stiffy in her chair, her hands now resting on her knees.

"No," The guard repeated once again.

The door's lock was unbolted and Sam Owens entered the cell. "I believe you have something I want. And I'm afraid," Owens didn't sound any particular emotion at all, "you won't be leaving until I get it."

Mary simply stared into Owens's eyes, cold and calculating, but above all, completely silent. Her breathing was barely audible, and her pulse regular. Many times before Owens had seen someone this calm before interrogation, but because it was Mary it unnerved him slightly. It took most of Owens's efforts to seem as unmoved as his captive. Mary's callousness was, in all honestly, infuriating him.

"You will have to talk eventually. We can keep you here indefinitely," Owens sighed. "The cameras are off. No one is listening."

Mary opened her mouth, and carefully formed the words without speaking. Prove it.

Owens smiled. He had been expecting this from the moment Mary had stared into the lens of the security camera. Cleverness would get her to open up long before violence or careless speech.

He let out a blood-curling scream.

As the sound died away, Mary's astonishment became mingled with obvious amusement. When nothing happened for a full eight seconds, she laughed madly, her smiled so wide Owens could count her teeth if he was so inclined.

"Well, well, well. What a show," She crooned, her head rocking slightly back and forth, voice a bit rough from disuse. "Very clever! I haven't had a laugh since you put me here." Mary inclined her head towards her guards. "They've been barrels of laughter."

Mary's eyes were now fully fixed on Owens. "Hello Sam. It's been too long."

"Are you going to tell me the names of the Death Eaters you have met with?"

"No," Mary blinked twice in rapid succession, tilting her head slightly to the right, cracking her neck.

"We'll see. At any rate, we can work up to that," Owens explained. "How about we start small? Since it's been so long, what have you been doing since escaping Pennhurst?"

'Oh you'll find out soon enough you before this afterlunch you pathetic pretender! And I'll saviour the look on your fright-filled face. But for now, best I keep up this vaudeville show real horror show.' Mary thought to herself before answering the question.

"Oh a bit of this and that. I must admit I'm getting serious déjà vu. You putting me in a cell, trying to get me to open up. So professional and banal, so mocking and insincere. Why not just say the truth: 'I was hoping that you were gone for good but you just couldn't rot away somewhere, could you?' Same song, different tune." Mary said in a very direct, almost forceful manner. A hint to the wings starting to shake the dust off of them.

"Uh…well, Mary, I wanted to help you," Owens said, initial shock giving way to clinical training.

"Such lies, Sam..." The soft voice seemed to hiss. "You drugged me up to get me to talk. When that didn't work, you brought in David Copperfield to try and read my mind."

Obviously referring to Danny, Owens thought.

"And when that didn't work, you finally decided to just leave me behind in Pennhurst, out of sight out of mind. How wrong you were." Mary smiled slightly, her mismatched eyes gleaming. "If anything, I should thank you, Sam. You leaving me stuck in Pennhurst allowed me to open my eyes. I now see how the world really is whereas before I was blind and arrogant. "

"Then I assume you're also going to thank me for this as well," Owens said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small white pill with the words LSD in the middle of it.

Mary's eyes immediately narrowed at it.

"Want it? I mean, you've been here ten hours. How long I wonder can you last with your LSD hit. A week, a month before you go into withdrawal?" Owens taunted.

"You enjoy throwing in my face that you caused my addiction?" Mary sneered, her face now a mask of rage.

"No actually I don't," Owens admitted, much to Mary's surprise. "I regret that I had to resort to that. It should never have happened and I am deeply sorry."

Mary replied with a subdued kind of sadness lacing her tone, "Thank you. Your honesty is refreshing."

There was a few minutes silence then Mary asked, "Do you think people are born evil?"

Owens's brow crinkled as he looked pensive. "No. No, I don't. Life is about choices. I think that there are some people who are born with an inclination that could be considered evil. They might want to do things that others don't approve of, but in the end it's about your choices. Having evil thoughts and acting upon those thoughts are two very different things."

"So, do you think I was born evil? I was never given a choice to be anything but a soldier, told to fight for my country against the Viet Cong by Papa."

Owens hesitated before he answered. "Some people, no matter how many opportunities they're given, choose the wrong path. You can still make the right choice, Mary right here and now. You don't have to be what Brenner made you to be anymore. You can be your own person. I don't think evil is born, I think it's made."

"But some people still have an inclination to do bad things," Mary replied, her mismatched eyes searching his face for any sign that he was lying.

"Of course. We've all had inclinations to do things that we know are wrong, but again, it's whether or not we choose to do them. Knowing right from wrong and choosing to do wrong anyways says a lot about a person's character."

"A person's character," Mary repeated, her eyes still gleaming. "But you forget; circumstances also plays a part in creating as you put it "a person's character" do they not?"

"Of course." Owens said, nodding.

"Well, my circumstances created me. I'm a soldier; all I've ever known is war. I was taught to fight and kill my enemies. And you, you sit there all holier than thou talking about "a person's character" and that I have a choice. No one has ever given me a choice. I am who I am because that is all I've known."

"It can be different. Please, all you have to do is cooperate and give us the names of the Death Eaters," Owens urged with a hint of hopefulness.

"No," Mary said. "As refreshing as your honesty is, I have not forgotten or forgiven what you did to me in Pennhurst. And make no mistake, when I escape and I will fucking escape I will kill you."

Owens sighed. "Then we have nothing else to discuss," He said with finality and a little hint of sadness.

"No we don't."

Owens left the room, closing the door behind him. He nudged a finger towards Danny. "You're up."

Danny nodded and as he took an uncertain step towards the door a memory of his own dealing with this dragon began to bubble its way up from the stygian depths of his mind.

---

It was a small bare room with nothing in it except an iron bedstead. A girl was sitting on top of the grey blankets, her legs stretching out in front of her, her long messy unkempt hair trailing down to her back and covering her face.

Her cheeks were hollowed and she glanced up at Danny as he entered the room. There was a moment's silence.

"How do you do, Mary?" said Danny, walking forwards and holding out his hand.

Mary hesitated, then took it, and they shock hands. A single guard sat a hard wooden chair down beside Mary and Danny sat down.

"Who are you? Are you another doctor?" asked Mary. She looked wary.

"I am not a doctor, " said Danny.

"I don't believe you," said Mary. "Owens wants you to look at me, doesn't he? Tell the truth!"

She spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though she had given it many times before. Her eyes had widened and she was glaring at Danny, who made no response. After a few seconds Mary stopped glaring, though she looked, if anything, warier still.

"Who are you?"

"Danny Torrance. Owens has asked me to speak to you. I'd like to know more about you," Danny asked.

A flicker of a smile crossed across Mary's face. "Oh he did, did he? Okay then Mr Torrance. I never get any visitors aside from Owens so this is a nice change of pace."

"Why do you think that is?" Danny asked.

"Fear, of course. I can see what they truly think of me; feel their fear. If I make eye contact and concentrate, I can push into their minds. The eyes are interesting, the windows to life, to souls... animals have them too. I remember a week after I was put here I found a little mouse crawling in my room. I started into its beady little eyes and I squeezed it until the mouse's eyes bulged. It bit me, but it was worth it.

I watched the life disappear from its little eyes and I knew it was done. I knew that I had killed it. I wonder if life disappears from all life in the same way? If I wrapped my hands around the neck of one of the annoying little beasts here, like Anne maybe, or Jasper, would the lights disappear from their eyes as well?"

"And does this come naturally to you?" Danny asked, unmoved by the fact the she had told him she had watched a mouse die.

"My gift is something more than what it seems. It is a power like God. Maybe not as powerful as the Almighty Himself that the deacon is always going on about, but more like the ancient gods... the pagan ones who controlled fire and lighting, who tricked and plotted... they had the real power. I can't control just anyone and I never know how long I can make them do what I want, but it fascinates me," said Mary, her mismatched eyes seeming to glint in the darkness of the room.

"If you are as you say a god then what are you doing in Pennhurst?"

Now Mary looked angry. "I shouldn't be. I told Papa that it wasn't my fault Saigon had fallen. It was his fault. He betrayed me. I can't remember his name. Jim something." Now Mary appeared to be talking to herself, forgetting Danny was in the room. "He's the reason I'm stuck in here. He's the reason Saigon fall. Not me. Not me. And that girl. That girl next to Papa...who was she? Who was she? I'll find her. Yes, I will. And that soldier Jim. I'll find them both. I'll find them. I'll find them."

Mary now looked up realising Danny was there and gave an embarrassed smile. "You must think I'm quite mad. I'm really not. I just have trouble sometimes separating what's real and what's a vision. They gave me LSD you see when I first got here. To try and control me. Well I can't be controlled, Doctor Owens!" She shouted, leaping from her bed and pointing at the door as if Owens were behind it. Her long arms had several injection marks, Danny noticed.

"How many times have they given you LSD?" He asked.

"Multiple. But it's okay I'm used to it now; in fact I quite enjoy the drug trips. It's almost a spiritual experience. I recommend it."

"I'll pass."

"Because of the struggles your father had with alcohol?" Mary asked rather pointedly.

Danny frowned. "How did you–you've gone into my mind haven't you?"

Mary smiled a thin malevolent looking smile. "Was a bit harder to enter at first but I pushed through regardless. Your thoughts dwell on your father. And your mother too, which is nice."

Mary's tone was now laced with sadness. "Oh, she died. That's sad."

Danny's brow crinkled. "Stop it," He demanded.

"Oh now you're thinking of a woman. Susan. You cared a great deal about her I see. You were lovers. Oh I see she was burnt alive." There was a glimmer of emotion again. "Such a trouble way to die."

"Shut up!" Danny shouted.

"Now I see a battle. Oh, that's something I know all too well," Mary said. "A never ending game of proxies, soldiers, assassins and civilians. The pawns all play the same role over and over again. Usually for the money. But there are some who do it for other reasons, such as pride, honour or bragging rights, to say they survived some of the most horrific things."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Danny snapped.

"Don't I? You had to hide under the bodies of your comrades and pretend to be dead. I can only imagine how horrific that must have been," Mary said, her voice laced with a nauseatingly coaxing quality.

Danny looked deeply unnerved now: he was gazing at Mary as though he had never seen her plainly before. "How did you see that?" He asked quietly. His mind was racing a million miles trying to comprehend exactly how Mary had just entered his mind. Was she using Legilimency or Occlumency?

"My secret," Mary replied as she flashed him another malevolent smile.

Danny had had enough. Rising to his feet, he approached the guard, a squat man carrying a baton, and prepared to leave.

"Where are you going?" demanded Mary. "You can't leave! Please, I never have any visitors and you're so interesting. We can swap war stories. Please. Stay!"

Danny said nothing. His attention was on the guard, who was trying and failing to unlock the door.

"Stay," repeated Mary in an almost begging tone.

"The door won't open, sir!" The guard said, clearly frustrated.

"I said stay," said Mary, but this time her tone had changed. It was now a demand.

"I don't know what you've done, you little bitch, but you're going to open that door," Shouted the guard as he advanced on Mary, baton raised like a club. "Now."

A sudden odd sound was heard coming from the ceiling but the guard didn't seem to hear, his attention firmly on Mary who showed no signs of being intimidated by the guard.

"I want Mr Torrance to stay," commanded Mary. "I haven't finished talking to him."

"I don't care what you want," snapped the guard. "Now, open the door."

A second bang was heard from the ceiling and this time Danny looked up, his eyes searching for the source: a screech melded with what sounded like wings flapping.

"Open the door now!" The guard screamed his face red with rage.

"As you wish," Mary said as a tight, thin smile like that of a serpent about to strike crossed her face.

There was a loud crash and a million screeching bats exploded from the ceiling. The guard screamed. Danny covered his face with his forearm as the bats soared around them.

Mary seemed completely unfazed by the black mass of flapping and screeching. In fact they seemed to gravitate towards her. She reached out a hand and several bats flew towards it without her doing anything. The guard continued screaming, now cowing on the floor in a ball like a frightened child. Danny, meanwhile, kept his face covered with his forearm as he backed away towards the door, the bats flying around him.

"What's the matter, Mr Torrance? Don't you like my friends? Stay. Let's finish our conversation," Mary said, her voice seeming to echo around the room despite the mass of bats.

The swarm of bats seemed to be getting closer and closer towards Danny as he felt his back up against the cell door. Danny noticed the bats appeared to have a connection to Mary as if under her control. And then something extraordinary happened. With the bats still swarming throughout the room, Mary appeared to levitate, rising from the ground.

"The guard has a fear of bats," Mary explained. Raising her hand towards Danny, she said, "I wonder what you're afraid of most, Mr Torrance. Shall we find out?"

Before she could get the chance to use her powers, Danny took out one of his guns and, aiming it at Mary amid the swarm of bats surrounding him, fired. The bullet flew through the air and punctured Mary in the chest. Almost immediately as soon as the bullet had penetrated her, Mary dropped to the floor as the bats vanished as if they had never been there.

There was a loud crash and the door broke apart as Owens and several guards barged into the cell. "What's happened?!" Owens yelled, his eyes darting around the room before fixing on the guard's balled up form and Mary's crumpled heap, a red liquid spilling out from the bullet wound.

"What'd you do?" demanded Owen.

Danny took several deep breaths before answering. "Don't worry; she's not dead. I made sure not to arm for the vital areas. Surgery will be able to remove the bullet."

"There was screaming. I thought Mary had attempted to attack you," Owens said as several guards and doctors in emergency gear placed Mary's body on a stretcher and hurried out of the cell.

"That was the bats. They came out of nowhere. It had something to do with Mary. I think..." He paused thoughtfully, "she might have magic."

"Magic?" Owens repeated, stunned.

"I'm not sure. The bats could have just been a result of Mary's powers since she mentioned that the guard," Danny inclined his head to the guard, who was still quivering on the floor, "had a fear of bats."

"Did she saw anything to you?" Owens questioned.

"Not much. She seemed to enjoy my company." Danny didn't mention that Mary had inextricably entered his mind.

"What do you recommend happen to Mary?" Owens asked.

"I'm not sure," Danny admitted. "I can't be sure if she does have magic or not. However, I think it's best for now you place her in isolation. Magic can be unstable if you can't control it. I also think you should give Mary something to keep her entertained. She mentioned how lonely she was. Let her read books, newspapers, whatever you think appropriate. It will keep her mind stimulated."

"Anything else?"

Danny looked deeply trouble as he stared at where Mary's body had been. "There was something about her... something I'm not quite sure about." (9)

---

As the memory bubbled away, Danny found himself once again face to face with Mary. She was older now; her cheeks less hollow than it had been when Danny had first met Mary and her hair more tidy and clean. Her mismatched eyes stared back at Danny as he sat down opposite her.

"I want to know the identities of the Death Eaters you've met with," He said without preamble.

"Hello Danny, it's been too long," She replied, echoing what she had said to Sam. Mary sounded so pleasant, so polite, so unlike the muttering and gesticulating madwoman he had experienced all those years ago.

But Danny wasn't getting to be drawn in. He would be keeping his guard up while speaking to her. Before he had been young and naïve, believing he could appeal to Mary's human side. Now he was older and considerably more wiser than he once was. He had faced true evil in the many years since he had first met Mary; the likes of Randall Flagg and the Crimson King and the pain they had inflicted on him was far worse than anything Mary could say to him.

"Who are the names of the Death Eaters you have met with?" Danny repeated sharply.

"I never expected to be seeing you again, I must say," Mary admitted. "I still have the scar, you know. From where you shot me. It was non-fatal you were right. Anyway, how's things been for you?"

"None of your business," snapped Danny. He didn't like discussing his past especially with Mary.

Mary frowned. Danny was going to be a much harder nut to crack than Sam had been but Mary knew presentence would eventually wear him down. It would be like picking from trees bearing apples all their own before reaching the forbidden fruit of the holiest of tress. And Danny, despite his tough façade, would most certainly give her the fruit she wanted.

"Oh don't be like that. Come on, I can keep a secret," Mary said, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"What did you discuss with the Death Eaters?" Danny asked, ignoring Mary. "What is the connection between you, the Death Eaters and Vought?"

"Oh, now that is a question," Said Mary, flashing a secretive smile to Danny. She leaned back in her chair as if it were a throne. "You know its funny; before I said how I should be thanking Sam for giving me books to read when actually it's because of you.

"You convinced Sam to allow me to read books and because of that, my eyes were opened. The books transported me into new worlds and introduced me to amazing people who lived exciting lives: I went on olden-day sailing ships with Joseph Conrad, to Africa with Ernest Hemingway and to India with Rudyard Kipling. And it was thanks to you. And for that reason you will be spared. I will not trouble you, I promise."

"Lucky me," Said Danny sardonically.

"I mean it," Continued Mary. "I do not want to inflict any more harm on someone who has clearly suffered enough and is desperate to find an end to the continued hell that is living on while everyone else dies."

Danny's eyes widened. How did she know that? He had put up strong mental barriers in his mind to prevent penetration of his thoughts and memories. And yet still, just as she had when he had first met her, Mary had broken through the barriers with easy. How? Danny thought to himself. Mary had no discernible magical talent. The only ability she had was in the projection and transformation of a person's worst fears.

"How... how do you know that?" Danny asked, a little on edge now.

"Because you're thinking it. Oh you do a good job of hiding it away, putting it in the back of your mind. But I can see it," Mary said, her voice once again taking on that coaxing tone. "The life you've lived, the tragedy it's been. How many people you've lost. Your father, your stepfather, your mother, Susan, Lucy, Abby, Oy, Eddie, Jake."

"Don't say their names!" Danny exclaimed his uneasy state made worse. "Don't you dare mention them! You have no idea who they are, their history."

"Oh but I do. You showed me them. I may not know them personality but I can see them through your thoughts and memories."

"What is that?" Danny asked, curiosity momentarily replacing his uneasy. "How are you seeing that? Is that telepathy? How are you seeing into my head? Magic?"

"I...I don't know honestly," Mary said. She smirked and laughed. "I know of magic. It's funny isn't it? We live our whole life thinking we know everything about the world but the truth is we don't. I mean, there are gods and wizards' living amongst us. It's fucking crazy. And yet do they share any of their magic with us mere mortal to help make not just America but the rest of the world? No! Instead they hide themselves from us like cowards."

Danny's eyes seemed to strain as he stared down at Mary, trying to enter into her mind. After a few minutes of this intense staring contest, Danny was forced to relent and admit that whatever mental barriers Mary had were far stronger to break than even the ones he had placed in his own mind.

"You know what else I think?" Mary asked in a lazy drawl as she prepared for the kill, "I think that, on some subconscious level, you feel that this is for the best isn't it? After all, all those people died because they were close to you. Is that why you've avoided your nephew and nieces for all these years? And you're...sister? Oh Karen Wheeler is your sister? Families dinners with her would be hilarious I imagine."

"Stop it!" Danny just sat there, much like a turtle. He didn't want to listen but felt trapped by this being's cold but correct logic.

"You are just a sad little boy trying to quiet the ghosts of the past. Terrible things just happen. They just happen," Mary said to Danny in the most matter-of-factly tone possible. "And the truth is nothing you do can change that. And deep down inside, you know this. It's why you've isolated yourself from the family you do still have.

"And that is why your story is one of failure in the final analysis. Not only are you sealed off from your fellow man but also what you desperately seek to prevent cannot be changed!"

The fruit of this first tree, the one that called itself Danny, had been snapped off. Not only that but Mary took a big bite, the imagined juices running down her chin.

As the fictional juices ran, the ghastly grin on Mary's face grew. She had successfully rendered a human being to a speechless object with nothing more than the truths they chose not to see and her own prose based in their pains. She loved that!

Danny said nothing as he got up and walked out of the cell closing the door behind him. Even this mightiest of gunslingers found himself in waters whose depths he could not fathom.

---

Back in the corridor outside the cell, it was pretty much the same as Danny had left it. Dustin, Max and Lucas were watching the monitor. Mike and Joyce looked concerned for Danny. But the one at the monitor with the greatest expression of sympathy was Owens. As he walked past him, Danny noticed that the doctor had a notepad out and that many pages of it were covered in sloppy notes that must have been jotted down fast.

As Mike, Joyce and Owens looked at his face, which looked exhausted and overwhelmed, they understood everything that they needed to.

The most telling were Danny's eyes. They looked almost hollow, as if the stars had died and there shine was replaced by lightless black holes. Combined with his mouth, trying not to be a frown but failing, the gunslinger's face was one that instantly aroused sympathy from those arround him.

"Danny..." Owens started but Danny held up a hand to silence him.

"Don't," Danny said in a warning tone. "I'm done. Get the answers you want from Mary some other way because I won't."

"I told you," Abernathy called out in a smug tone. "I said Daniel wouldn't be of any use to us. Such a poor student and, it turns out, even poorer at Legilimency then I –"

Abernathy suddenly reared backwards, red liquid dripping from his noise. Danny had extended his fist forward and stuck Abernathy so fast hardly anyone had seen it.

"Fuck you, Abernathy," Danny spat before turning on his heels and leaving. Mike called out to him with a desperate "uncle" but Danny ignored him and kept walking.

As he stalked past them out of the corridor he passed by two off-duty guards who were reading a newspaper and talking rather animatedly.

"You're kidding?" The younger guard said.

"No I told you. It says so right here in the paper," His older companion replied before reading the newspaper: "Earthquake hits Los Angeles, thousands dead."

"What?" Danny said, stopping in his tracks in front of them.

The young guard looked slightly nervous by Danny but the older guard handed him the newspaper. "Here, see for yourself," He said.

Danny took the newspaper muttering "Thank you" and his eyes quickly roamed around the front page. "When did this happen?" He asked.

"2 hours ago," Said the older guard.

Danny nodded his head, then handed the newspaper back to him and continued on his way, his mind racing.

The earthquake had happened because of him. Terrible things just happen, Mary had said. No they didn't. They happened for a reason. Time had decided to remind him of the consequences of trying to go against it.

Danny stumbled out of the entrance to the facility and continued walking through the vast forest surrounding him, his footsteps reverberating against the thick trucks of the ancient trees that made up Mirkwood.

Trees that were water-soaked and dull were seen all over. Everywhere there was a terrible sense of stagnancy, imbuing the whole forest with a fetid, neglected atmosphere, as though some great cathedral had been flooded by a brackish lagoon.

Danny drew a deep breath, taking in the scent of impending rain. He turned the shirt collars of his coat up around his neck as a guest of wind blew past him. He hoped the approaching thunderstorms forecasted for tonight would hold off until he had gotten done what he needed.

Danny knew he was close by. He could feel the presence. It was like the Red Spot of Jupiter, a violent storm the size of the three Earths. The vastness of the presence crackled loudly, as if cursing angrily at him. Though not existing in the physical world, the gunslinger felt the concentrated energy swirling and convulsing as if it were bundled ribbons of electricity. It casted a cloak of un-seeable blackness around the forest at large. This clock resembled an infinite nest of black serpents, slithering and hissing, in all directions without pattern but endless drive.

His prey was just ahead. And soon revenge would be his. Finally he would have the peace he so desperately sought.

"You're in the wrong place, Danny Torrance," A young woman's friendly sounding voice spoke to him.

All of a sudden, Danny stopped in his tracks. He could now feel the different presence behind him. Danny spun around and saw her. She was very pretty, he noticed, with unusual wild hair that stood out against the darkness of the night. And that wasn't the only thing about her that stood out. One of her eyes was green with silver flecks while the other was blue, and there was a warm, kind smile on her face.

"Hello, Uncle Danny," She said.

---

The air was tense and pregnant with worry within the CIA's facility after Danny had punched Abernathy and left said facility.

Abernathy was wiping the last bit of blood from his noise with a triumphant look on his face. Mike was glaring at Abernathy with such a fiery intense dislike that it would have made lesser men wither.

"Daniel still hasn't learned to control his temper I see," Abernathy remarked in a mocking tone, more to himself than anyone else. Such displays of emotions were for weaker men that weren't in control of their emotions. Or, just as much, men that needed attention. Those were the worst kinds of people, that needed the world to notice how they were feeling, who longed for acknowledgement. Great men didn't need such things. They didn't need to roll their eyes or let out huffs or murmur to themselves. Those around them simply knew their moods and acted to either encourage or fix those emotions. "One of the many shortcomings that made him such a lamentable student of mine."

"My uncle is a great man," said Mike suddenly. He was shaking all over. He had never felt so angry in his life.

Abernathy's eyes seemed almost to be x-raying Mike. "Ah, yes. You're his nephew aren't you? How unfortunate for you," He said, throwing Mike a dirty look.

"I don't think so," Mike responded, his glare intensifying.

"Proud of him, are you?" sneered Abernathy. "Forgive me; but a violent man who constantly walks the edge of abyss is not someone I would look up to, Mister Wheeler."

"Maybe you don't know him like I do," Mike snapped back.

"I daresay I know enough about Daniel to last a lifetime," Daniel shot back. Turning back to Kinsley Shacklebolt, he gestured to the cell door, "Shall we, Minister?"

Shacklebolt gave a look to Owens, who glanced away quickly, before nodding his head and followed Abernathy into the cell door.

Closing the door behind them, Abernathy took out his wand and with a wave of it, the magical force field that encompassed Mary vanished and he pointed his wand directly at Mary's face.

Without preamble, Abernathy said to Mary, "My name is Robert Abernathy. I'm an Auror on behalf of the Magical Congress of the United States of America. Officers of the Magical Law Department may use physical or magical force against you, including such as may cause permanent harm, injury, illness, incapacitation, or death if and only to the degree as is necessary to retain you in custody and to safeguard their own welfare as well as that of others. Any statement or incantation you may say or perform, including via non-verbal means may be used as evidence in a criminal proceeding. You are considered to be innocent until such time as guilt is reasonably proven, however your apprehension in situ is considered temporary grounds upon which you have waived your right to liberty at this time. You have the right to refuse to answer questions; however any false or misleading answers given will result in additional criminal charges. If you believe yourself to be operating under a curse, hex, jinx, or otherwise engaging in your current activates under magical coercion, you may indicate as such at any time. Additional rights and exclusions under wizarding law will be explained to you fully and completely as relevant. Do you understand these rights and exclusions?"

Mary's eyes looked with interest at Abernathy's wand. "That must have been a mouthful. Do you have to practise that? I like your wand," She said. "I think I'll have it."

Abernathy's eyes hardened. "Over my dead body," He said.

The wand seemed to glint in Mary's eyes as a small smile curled across her face. "As you wish." She warned. "I must say when I was first told magic existed I didn't believe it. Until I was shown proof of course."

"Who by?" Shacklebolt asked.

Mary raised an eyebrow. "The Death Eaters. Oh sure they're constantly spouting about "pure-blood" and giving me death stares due to being a quote "muggle". But sometimes you have to work with unsavoury people in order to achieve change in the world."

"And who are these Death Eaters?" Abernathy asked, his wand still aimed at Mary.

"Not telling, sorry," Mary said, smirking in defiance.

The next word spoken by Abernathy was a mere whisper, but the effect was no less devastating as the flash of red light illuminated the room. "Crucio."

Pure agony spread through Mary's skin like acid fire, her back arched violently, and she couldn't hold in a scream of utter anguish. It was by far the most excruciating experience of her life – and Mary was no stranger to pain – it felt like her skin, blood and organs were being incinerated, blended and frozen all at once. Her mind felt as if it couldn't even register the sensation on a normal level, so simply shut off all coherent thought while his body was being destroyed.

When it finally stopped, Mary took several long moments to realise she was no longer sitting on the chair but lying on her side, curled in on herself as tight as she could. Her face was flushed red and contorted with pain even once Abernathy had stopped the curse, the feeling of brain numbness remained; it was as though her pain receptors had been overloaded but were still somehow horribly able to feel.

Mary looked up at Abernathy and Shacklebolt – Shacklebolt was frowning at the use of the Cruciatus curse and casting a disapproving glare at Abernathy – and gave the pair a smile as she slowly got to her feet.

"Ready to talk now?" asked Abernathy, holding his wand threateningly up in the air. "If the Cruciatus curse won't loosen your tongue then perhaps the Imperius curse. Or I could just use Veritaserum instead. Are you going to give us the names?"

Mary glared at him, then smiled a thin smile. "Yes," she said. "I'll give you names. Fenrir Greyback."

"He's been MIA since the Battle of Hogwarts," Shacklebolt said reminiscing, his eyebrows frowning slightly.

"And Barty Crouch Junior," Mary went on.

"Crouch Junior?" Shacklebolt repeated. "But he has been in Azkaban since 1996. Are you certain?"

"Of course I am!" Mary snapped angrily, glaring at Shacklebolt. "I have sat opposite these two individuals, heard the contempt and hatred they have for muggles and in particularly Harry Potter. Yes, I knew who he is."

"And the others?" Abernathy inquired. His eyes were fixed on Mary, his wand still above his head. There was something about that wand, Mary thought. A connection perhaps. It was almost as if it was drawn to her.

"Oh don't worry I'll tell you the rest," Mary said, her thin smile widening. "But first I want to speak to Jim Hopper, Joyce Byers and my sister Eleven in that order. One after the other. Each for about, oh say half an hour. After that I'll tell you the rest of the names."

It was clear Mary had been leading up to this for some time. Her face flashed with triumph. Shacklebolt looked unfazed, as if he had been expecting her to make such a demand. Abernathy, on the other hand, looked completely incredulous at this demand.

"You think," spat Abernathy, his face red with fury, "you can make demands of us?! Have you forgotten we are wizards? And that we have the ability to torture you senseless until you give us the names?"

"I thought you were just going to question me. Now its torture is it? But that would go against the rules, wouldn't it? And the rules are in place for a reason, aren't they mister Abernathy? Wouldn't want to break any rules like your grandfather did?" Mary taunted.

"How – how do you know that?" Abernathy asked, looking unnerved for the first time.

Mary's thin smile now covered her entire face as she calmly sat back onto her chair. "My demands first. In fact I want to speak to Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max on top of that too. Won't you bring them in for me?"

---

The petite young woman stood in front of Danny beaming at him brightly, despite the approaching thunderstorm.

"Hello Uncle Danny," she repeated again as Danny stared at her with a mixture of disbelief and suspicion.

"Who are you?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing as they survived every inch of her face as if to decipher her identity.

"I told you, Uncle Danny, it's me Abby," said Abby dreamily, without taking her eyes off Danny.

"What are you? A spectre? Come to haunt me further have you?" Danny asked further.

"No," said Abby serenely. "It's me, your niece."

"But you died," Danny protested, his face contorted between sadness and anger. "I buried you. You can't be here. You're...your dead."

"Yes I am dead," Abby said, tone perfectly matter of fact. "Dying was painful, but I'm past that now. What is there to worry about?"

"How?" Danny asked. "How are you here now in front of me?"

"It was the end of my lifetime. And the beginning of what comes next. You see, after my death I was offered the chance to become Delirium of the Endless and I accepted," Abbey said, still smiling at him.(10)

Danny's eyes widened. "The Endless," he murmured. "Now that is a name that I have not heard in a very long time." He looked at Abbey, still mildly suspicious. "In any case, tell me something only Abby would know," he demanded.

"Uncle this is ridiculous –"

"Do it."

"Fine, Uncle if it will convince you. My full name is Abigail Stone. My friends called my Abra for short. My father was David Stone. My mother was Lucy Reynolds, your half-sister. After my mother and father's deaths, I was raised by my father's mother Margaret," Abby explained. Her eyes looked slightly sad as she went on, "Margaret used to lock me in a "prayer closet" leaving me there for several hours or even days as punishment. I stopped her heart after she stabbed me in the shower."

Uncle and niece stared at each other for a moment before Danny strode over and took her in his arms, holding her close. "It's really you," he muttered, unable to contain the emotions in his voice. "You're really here."

"Yes, uncle. It's good to see you again," Abbey replied as she separated from Danny's embrace.

"I've...I've missed you, Abbey," Danny said, his voice breaking. Tears came before he could stop them. Danny let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at his niece, his heart still beating. "I never thought –"

"I know, Uncle Danny. It's okay," Abbey said kindly.

"Why are you here?" Danny asked, taking deep sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control.

Now Abbey looked serious for the first time. "You're in the wrong place, Uncle," she said. "And I'm here to get you back on the right track."

"Back on track?" Danny repeated before realisation hit him. "You mean my quest. Did the Gods send you? To what – keep an eye on me?"

"You must return to your quest, Uncle," Abbey said. "Or else consequences will befall."

Danny let out a bitter laugh. "Consequences?"

"The earthquake that struck Los Angeles ...more will happen until you return on your way to the Dark Tower," Abbey explained. "More will die uncle unless –"

"Don't put their deaths on my conscience!" Danny suddenly bellowed. "I have enough on my conscience with them adding to it!"

"I know, uncle," started Abbey. "I wasn't –"

"You think it's easy for me? Knowing that innocent people are dead because of me? Knowing that every time I'm forced to start my quest to reach the Dark Tower I alone know what the outcome will be? Knowing that my Ka-tet will all die at the end? Knowing that every time I climb the stairs I have actually reached and climbed the Tower countless times before? Knowing that every time I reach the top, the door with my name on it will be waiting for me? Forced to go through my door by the hands of Gan and transported back in time, to then wake up in the Mohaine desert, back to where I was at the very beginning with my memory reset, to restart my quest again. Or at least it used to be reset. I guess the Gods or whoever thought it'd be better or funnier if I actually had the memories of all my previous attempts to reach the Tower." Danny spat. He let out a bitter laugh. "I wonder how many times this has been repeated? How many hundreds of times?! How many THOUSANDS?! ONE HUNDRED THOUSANDS?! MILLIONS?! TRILLIONS?! I've repeated this quest more times than I can count! And all I have to show for it is this fucking thing!"

Danny reached into his saddle bag which hung around his shoulder, took out an object and tossed it at Abbey's feet. It was the Horn of Eld. (11)

"It's funny," Danny said in a humourless tone. "You'd think that by having my memories of my past attempts to reach the Tower would mean I can change thing, make different choices. And yet Oy, Eddie, Jake... they all still fucking die. They always die."

"Accept what you cannot change, Uncle," Abbey said serenely.

"Cannot change?" repeated Danny snidely. "It's not like that for everyone else is it? The ordinary people out there, they go on with their lives. Mike and Nancy they're adults now with their own families completely normal. While I suffer stuck repeating my quest over and over again. Well I won't. Not anymore." His voice became lower as he murmured, "I've missed so much."

Abbey could see her uncle had balled his fists while he had been talking. She gently picked up the Horn of Eld and, after a minute examining it with the utmost care, handed it back Danny, who grudgingly took it back into his saddle bag.

"Uncle Danny, please reconsider," Abbey pleaded. "Your delay will only cause more death and destruction. Time will strike back. It always does."

Danny laughed another bitter laugh. "What more can I lose? The Gods have seen fit to make me into their cosmic punching bag my whole fucking life. The few bright spots that I did have ultimately led to further tragedies," he said heavily. "I'm sick of losing people. I just want to rest."

Abbey stared at him for a moment before saying, "You want to die." It was not a statement, but a fact.

"More than anything," Danny gasped. "But I can't. The time loop won't let me. Oh I've tried. So many times, believe me. First time I slit my throat. There was darkness and then next thing I knew I was waking up in the Mohaine desert. Still alive. So I tried again. This time stepped out onto oncoming traffic in New York. Once again there was darkness and once again I woke up in the Mohaine desert, alive. Poison, gunshot to the head, jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, throat slashed by Shardik. I tried everything. Even set myself on fire one time. In the end, I got the message. I can never die as long as I'm stuck in this time loop."

Abbey's faced softened. "I know how painful it is for you but you must return to your quest. You're supposed to be in New York 1987 meeting Eddie Dean and forming your Ka-tet. Instead your here in Hawkins 2005. Why?" she asked.

For the first time Danny's face was now full of suppressed triumph. "Revenge. The only thing I have left. Tonight I am close, oh so close to getting revenge on the man who has ruined my life: Randall Flagg," he said with grim determination.

---

There had been much heated discussion back in the facility about Mary's terms. Hopper had, naturally, refused to speak to Mary in any way and spent a good hour or so loudly listing the many reasons why, in his mind, this was a terrible idea.

"This is exactly what she wants!" Hopper roared at Abernathy and Shacklebolt. "How stupid are you people? Can't you see you're playing right into her hands?"

"I agree, Mr Hopper but both the British Ministry of Magic and the Magical Congress of the United States need the information she is privy too," Shacklebolt explained calmly. "The use of the Cruciatus curse seemed to have only emboldened Mary." He shot an annoyed look at Abernathy, as if this were all his fault. "She has agreed to provide us with the names in exchange she be allowed to talk to you, first all at once then one on one."

"And how do you know," Hopper asked through gritted teeth, "If these names are any good to you?"

"The Ministry of Magic is already checking the first two names she has given us," Shacklebolt said. "Unfortunately as both are classified as Missing in Action following the Battle of Hogwarts it may take longer to confirm if there are good or not

"How convenient for Mary," Hopper scoffed. "The two names she gives you can't be verified. You're being played! Mary has no intention of giving you any names unless offered something in return. And right now you idiots are giving her exactly what she wants!"

"I would think," sneered Abernathy, glaring at Hopper with his pale green eyes, "that a Minister of Magic would demand more respect from a no-Maj."

Both Hopper and Shacklebolt turned and both glared at Abernathy, who returned the glare.

"I can speak for myself thank you very much," Shacklebolt asked calmly though on the inside he was furious.

"Of course, Minster," Abernathy replied, bowing his head respectful. "I just meant it is unbefitting for a leader of any wizarding country to be spoken to in such a way by a no-Maj no less. In the old days any no-Maj who even remotely knew about magic would have been Oblivated there and then. You, on the other hand, have quite an affinity towards no-Maj's don't you? Particularly the no-Maj Prime Minister, both Tony Blair and now Gordon Brown."

"Is that a problem?" Shacklebolt asked.

Abernathy smiled tightly. "Not at all, Minister. It is, of course, within your purview to meet with the no-Maj Prime Minister just as it is within the purview of the President of the Magical Congress to meet with his counterpart. What I object to," he said, "is the fact that you are even contemplating allowing these no-Maj's to have such free reign in our interrogation. I recommend that I be given leave to continue my interrogation. I knew I can get more information from her."

"No," Shacklebolt replied. "We will, instead, allow for Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max to speak to her."

"And then what?" Abernathy retorted. "Talking is not the solution. The Cruciatus curse will get the information out of her far easier."

"I said no," Shacklebolt snapped. "I will not allow you to torture anyone. Question yes but not torture."

"It does not matter if you agree or not," Abernathy replied curtly. "With all respect Minster, you are a foreign citizen on American soil and therefore have no authority to tell me what to do."

The two men glared at each other with such intensity and hatred that it legitimately looked like they might try to kill each other. This continued for near five minutes. Then, Owens, clearly fed up, interrupted their standoff. "It seems to me," he began. "That since you're both using a CIA Black Ops facility that belongs to the US government then you're under my authority and I say we will allow Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max to speak with Mary."

Abernathy paused for a moment, as if deciding on what his course of action in response should be before finally caving in. Shooting Shacklebolt a dirty look, he retreated back to look at the monitor.

Owens, ignoring Abernathy, turned to Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max who had been looking at the standoff with amusement (Dustin, Max) and impatience (Mike, Lucas). "You can see her. Don't worry; you'll just be talking to her that's it. I promise you'll be safe," he said, sounding like a kind grandfather trying to reassure his scared grandchildren. And yet there was something in his tone. Was it fear? A sense of dread of what type of mind games Mary would play with them.

---

Mary just waited. While she truly hated the waiting, the silences, Mary tried to be patient. Clamour and activity would resume soon enough. Oh what chaotic clamour and amoral activity would tear at today and its dull beginning!

As she heard the door being opened, Mary inwardly cheered. The waiting subsided. As the intended group stood in front of her, Mary imagined a second tree growing. This one had multiple twig-like branches. And what was even better was that now Mary didn't need to conceal as much as she had with Danny. She could reach for the fruits with swifter purpose. The fruits of this tree weren't quite as oversaturated as the first tree's fruit, so it would take a little more effort to obtain. It was time to start reaching.

The group of Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max for their part were merely glaring at the dragon in front of them, who now wore a straitjacket that Shacklebolt had conjured onto her using magic. Finally, after what seemed to eternity (it had only been five minutes) Mary decided to speak first.

"Hello, so nice to see you all," she said pleasantly. "I'd offer you jelly babies but someone took them from me." Mary inclined her head to one of the guards standing at the door.

Her mismatched eyes swayed over each of them slowly, as if she were x-raying them all individually. Finally they seemed to settle on Dustin. "Hello, dearie. You doing okay? I imagine it must be difficult for you with your wife being in a hospital and you being unable to do anything."

"She's going to be fine," snapped Dustin.

"Oh. Did I just touch a nerve? Does it depress you Dustin; that you, a man who sees the world as nothing but a collection of stories and facts, weren't able to protect his wife? Suzie was a pretty smart cookie, I'll admit. Out of all of you, she would have put the pieces together and discover my final revelation pre-maturely so...I took her off the board."

"The board?" Mike repeated. "As in we're all chess pieces in some sort of game?"

"Yes Mike, this is a game. One that I have laid out in advance. As far as what it's about, you'll find out soon enough. And as for Suzie, it was a risk I wasn't willing to take."

"My wife is a person not a fucking chess piece!" Dustin shouted.

"In any case, would you like me to keep her company for you?" Mary asked, her eyes that of a predator glaring at its kill. The fingers were about to grab the fruit. "Once I get out of here of course," she added hastily with a smirk on her face.

Mary's voice now took on a darker manic quality. "Would you like that, Dusty-bun? Would you like me to visit her? All alone in that hospital bed, Dusty-bun. Would you like that? Just the two of us there. Anything could happen to her. WOULD YOU LIKE THAT, DUSTY-BUN?!"

With her fingers tightly holding the fruit's skin, Mary snapped it off of the branch.

Dustin felt more anger than he had at any point in his entire life. Mary was just sitting there…with a small smile on her face. Like she was getting some kind of sick kick off of threatening his comatose wife!

Indeed, the small smile on Mary's face betrayed just how much she had enjoyed verbally tormenting Dustin.

As Mary's smile grew, so did Dustin's anger. The normally peaceful bard was feeling a very strong and uncharacteristic desire for violence. With absolutely no warning, Dustin moved his left arm in a fluid motion towards Mary. Her face was hit by Dustin's fist. It took the combination of both Mike and Lucas to restraint their friend from beating this monster to a pulp.

Mary, for her part, looked completely unfazed at being punched by Dustin. If anything, his display of violence towards her only seemed to make her smile widen as she watched the proceedings with quiet amusement. "Did you enjoy that?" Mary asked in the most matter-of-factly tone possible, "Want to take another swing at me, Dustin? I am, after all, defenceless. It would be easy for you to beat me to death. Why don't you? Go on; take another swing. Harder this time. Go on. Do it. Do it. Do. It."

"Stop it!" demanded Max. "You're just trying to goad him and it's pathetic."

"Well, you'd know what's it like being goaded by someone wouldn't you Maxine?" Mary responded her eyes now fixed intently upon Max.

"Don't call me Maxine," Max said in a low threatening voice.

"Billy and Neil... they certainly loved to twist the knife into you and your mother, didn't they?" Mary went on, ignoring Max. "Must have been so hard for you, seeing your mother debasing herself in order to avoid Neil's wrath. No wonder you put up walls to protect yourself. No wonder you were so suspicious of Lucas and Dustin's stalking.

"And now you're with a child yourself. And you're afraid. So very afraid. But not of me. What are you afraid of Max?"

"Nothing!" Max exclaimed, as she quickly gave a side glance to Lucas that went unnoticed by everyone else.

Except Mary.

"Lucas...now that makes sense. He's been the only stable, reliable male in your life so naturally you're scared of losing him especially now you're about to give birth to his child," Mary said. "Oh...but you almost did lose him already didn't you?"

"What's she talking about?" Mike asked as he loosened his grip on Dustin and looked at Max, who now seemed rooted in her spot.

"You haven't told them," Mary realised. "Well then allow me to do it for you." She turned her attention away from Max and to Mike and Dustin. "There was a drive-by shooting at Lucas and Max's house. Lucas was injured during the shooting. I know because I felt your emotions Max; your fear of losing Lucas was like a tidal wave of pain and grief."

Mike and Dustin were in a state of shock and disbelief as they both immediately began yelling at Max for not telling them and then shouting at Lucas with an equal amount of fever demanding to know what happened to him.

Mary's eyes now were staring directly at Lucas appraising him. "And yet you stand in front of us, as if nothing happened. Quiet the miracle, isn't it?" She interjected, her soft voice seeming to echo around the room and effectually ending the argument happening in front of her.

"Always the positive one, aren't you Lucas? Always there to help others. And yet behind your sunny facade you hide great sadness," Mary noted. She paused. "Mommy? Daddy? Ah, you have big daddy issues."

"That's enough," Lucas said sternly, trying to cut off the conversation but Mary, once again, ignored him.

"Oh, it's both mommy and daddy issues you have," Mary continued, her eyes boring into Lucas's face. "Where is your mom? No don't tell me. I'm seeing...beach. Florida. Why is she there? Florida's nice and all, but it's so far away from where you are. Why?"

Lucas seemed hypnotised by Mary's mismatched eyes as he remained rooted to the spot, unable to look away. "Stop it," He said with great difficultly.

"Could it be that your mother is living in Florida to avoid you?" Mary asked, noticing Lucas's face flinch ever so slightly. Her face slowly began to contort into another smile. "But then the question remains: why? What could be so terrible to make your mom live in a different state to avoid her son? I know she has quite a few secrets, Lucas but this is something else isn't it? (12)

"Could it be a certain date that has overwhelmed your mother so much that she can't even bear to look her own son in the eyes? A date that distresses her so much she would rather bury her head in the beaches of Florida than face the truth?!"

"What date?" asked Dustin quietly, though he knew the answer even before Mary gave it.

"September the day you lost your father, didn't you Lucas? Your mom hasn't copied well since has she? Florida allows her to escape and forget that her husband is dead. But at the cost of creating a rift with you. So in a way, it's almost as if you've lost both parents isn't it?"

When Mary finally finished, silence reigned supreme. Lucas had ended up in the same state as Danny, Dustin and Max…speechless, overwhelmed, and broken. So much was thundering inside of his mind, so much pain.

Lucas said nothing, his eyes wet with tears as he stormed out of the room, Max hurrying after him trying to catch up with him.

"Wondrous weapons, words, they can do so much with so little," Mary remarked after Max had left. "Shame about Lucas's mom, so overwhelmed with grief and loneliness she has exiled herself to Florida –"

But before she could speak another word, Mike's fist made contact with her face. This time it was Dustin who had to restrain Mike. His eyes burned with anger as he stared at this harbinger of pain.

"You sick, vile piece of shit!"

Tut-tutting Mike's insult, Mary responded, "Such barbaric, such monstrous language from a supposedly kind-hearted soul. What does my sister see in you I wonder?"

"You continue to verbally abuse my friends and uncle to the point of despair and don't care at all! Is this all some kind of sick game you're playing with our feelings?"

"Yes and no. I won't deny my great personal enjoyment in playing my "sick game", as you call it, with your friends but they were never my concern. I simply put into words what they each knew deep down but tried to ignore. Besides, can a tiger be blamed for tearing apart slabs of damaged meat if they are thrown at it?"

"My friends and uncle are not pieces of meat! You want to psychoanalyse someone then do me."

"Oh, but you're too easy, Mike. Your anger and fear is written all over your face."

"Humour me," Mike challenged through gritted teeth.

"Very well as you wish. I'll start with your anger first since it's the most obvious: Hawkins. You hate being back in this town, don't you? It has too many memories, both good and bad, but more so bad ones. As long as your mother continues to live here, you will remain tethered to this town. And you hate that," Mary said.

"And what am I supposedly afraid of?" Mike asked. Mary was right; he did hate being back in Hawkins but he was determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

Mary's smile returned to her face now. "Time. Or rather the passing of it," She said. "It's already happening. Sara's got a boyfriend. What's next, she's going to move out of home and sack up with the boyfriend? Next thing you know James and Eleanor will be finishing school and off at college and you and Eleven will be stuck alone, all your children moved out and going on with their lives without you."

Almost as quickly as it had appeared Mary's smile had now vanished replaced with a bored expression on her face. "I'm bored now. Bring me Jim Hopper, won't you dearie?"

---

(SMUT STARTS HERE)

"Lucas, wait!" Lucas heard Max calling out to him but he ignored her cries. He had never felt such pain, such sadness inside him before.

Except once.

At first, on 9/11, Lucas had shared the numbing sense of disbelief with millions of others around the world as he watched the horrific scenes of aircraft slamming into the Twin Towers replayed over and over again on television.

He didn't know what his father was doing or where he was on that day, so after a while he called his mobile. There was no answer. He wasn't particularly worried: mobile networks were down and the whole country was in a state of confusion. And anyway, as far as Lucas knew, his father had no reason to be downtown.

But after trying the mobile throughout the afternoon and into the early evening, a nightmare scenario began to take shape in Lucas's mind. After hearing much to his relief that both his mother and sister Erica were safe and okay (Max had been with him at home), he had gone up into his father's office and reluctantly began to search through his desk. He had felt a little guilty as he began to fumble through the drawers. He had always, until this moment, respected his father's privacy.

He found the neatly typed envelope bearing a blue company logo in the central drawer of the desk. It was address to his father, and as Lucas took out the perfectly folded letter, he saw that his hands were trembling.

The paper was expensive, with a watermark. In one corner was the same blue company logo, and beneath the logo was the name Hanover, a British finance company, with the address of its New York offices. Lucas's heart tightened in his chest.

He read the short, business-like letter inviting his father for an interview that morning at 9 a.m.

At that moment he knew. His father was dead.

Lucas's legs felt as though they could no longer support him and he sank down onto the chair at the desk. He stared at the letter, but he was no longer seeing the words. Instead, the horrifying images he had watched throughout the day came back into his mind. The planes, the flames, victims hurling themselves to their death, the Twin Towers collapsing one after another, the billowing black smoke and dust enveloping whole blocks of the city.

He had no idea how long he sat on the chair, but eventually the words on the page came into focus again. He re-read the letter, and his eyes fixed on the last line before the 'Yours sincerely' and the signature: 'I look forward to seeing you.'

"I look forward to seeing you," he whispered. But Lucas Sinclair could never again look forward to seeing his father. Not in this lifetime.

The printed words began to blur on the paper, and Lucas eventually realized that they were slowly dissolving, being washed away. By his own silent tears.

Lucas's father's body was never identified, or like hundreds of others, it was simply never found. The memorial service was simple, dignified. Lucas and Max had stood side by side, weeping silently with Erica. Some of his father's old school friends, a few very old and very distant relatives; some business associates and his emotional mother overwhelmed in her grief.

Things were never the same after that.

In the days, weeks and months that followed, the USA and the rest of the world attempted to come to terms with the enormity of the outrage committed on 9/11. Lucas had become more reserved than before, and much less light-hearted. To add to his misery, the loss of his father led to an estrangement between Lucas and his mother. He rarely spoke of his father or of his mother from then on, and his friends learned not to mention them.

"Lucas, stop! Please!" Max called out again.

Lucas turned the corridor and ducked into an empty room. Max followed her husband inside the small empty office space and closed the door behind her. Lucas's back was facing Max and she swore she could hear faint gasp coming from him.

"Lucas?" Max asked softly. "Are you alright?"

Lucas did not respond.

"Please Lucas, its okay. You can talk to me. What's the problem?"

"Problem? There's no problem," said Lucas, still refusing to look at Max.

"Lucas, don't lie. I know you don't like when your parents are mentioned–"

"Why did he have to take that job?" Lucas mouthed loudly. "Why did he have to be there in New York?"

Max moved behind him, putting her arms about his waist and resting her head comfortingly on his back.

"Lucas, no one knew what was going to happen that day." Max squeezed him a bit tighter. "None of the people there knew planes were going to smash into the Towers."

Lucas stiffened at her words and pulled away from her suddenly–and angrily, she realized. "WHY DID HE HAVE TO DIE?!" he growled. "He didn't even tell any of us he had gotten a new job. He...he didn't have to be there. And mom – mom's never been the same since."

"I know it hurts, Lucas. But things will get better. And I'm sure things will improve with your mom eventually."

"Get better?" spat Lucas angrily. "My family is broken, Max. Mary was right; I might as well have lost both parents." He lowered his head and began to sob, his lean, strong shoulders shaking.

Max pulled him in and hugged him close, never wanting to let go. "Shhh," she said softy. She kissed him gently on the cheek. "You have your sister, you have me. And we have this baby on the way. We have our own family to look forward to, Lucas."

Lucas looked at her directly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He couldn't hold the pose of defiance for long, though, before he broke down again in sobs.

Max was there to hold him and tell him that everything would be all right.

After a while Lucas managed to compose himself, though his face was slightly tearstained. "Sorry you had to see me...like that," He said, avoiding eye contact with Max.

"It's alright. Don't apologise," said Max kindly.

Suddenly a mischievous smile came across her face. "You know I just realised we're alone," Max said in a flirty tone of voice.

Lucas looked confused.

Max rolled her eyes. "We're alone," she repeated, this time adding emphasis to alone.

The penny seemed to drop for Lucas. "Oh," he said a small smirk appearing on his face.

"Oh," Max said still in the same flirty tone as before.

Then she jumped him and he stumbled, his hands gripping her back tightly as she plastered her lips to his, legs wrapped around him. Lucas lost himself in her lips, moaning as they kissed over and over. He slide his hands up over her ass, up her back to her neck and then he took her hair down, letting it tumble into his hands as her tongue met his to deepen the kiss. His fingers glided through her hair as they moved up her back and danced along the edge of her shirt before he slid them under, sliding up her ribs to brush the sides of her breasts as they kissed.

Max sighed against him. "Yes..."

Lucas kissed the side of her neck, letting his lips trail down her throat, over her shirt and moved to the buttons. He started at the bottom, his eyes on hers as he slowly popped open each button. The top one sprung open and he licked his lips at the sight of her breasts, swelling over the light blue lace-covered strapless cotton. With his eyes on hers, he pushed the vest over her shoulders and dropped it behind them. His hands slid up to cup them and her head fell back as Harry rubbed his hands over them, massaging and touching until he bent his head to kiss them. He peppered kisses over the exposed skin, dipping his tongue in the crevice between them and she moaned.

It was all the encouragement Lucas needed and he angled his head lower to suckle her, feeling her nipple pebble under his tongue, and she panted slightly. This was the most naked he'd gotten her in ages and when she rocked against him, he groaned and squeezed her. Then to his surprise, her hands reached behind her and unclasped her bra.

It fell open before him and he eagerly tugged the strapless material off, the sight of those beautiful ample breasts more incredible than he remembered. The dusky pink nipples, one larger than the other, soft freckles adorned the tops of each one and he let his tongue trail over each nipple slowly.

Lucas brushed his lips over her nipple, basking in the texture there, the way it pebbled where raised gooseflesh and softness met. His tongue darted out to stroke it, flicking it gently before he suckled the peak into his mouth. The sound Max made only spurred him on. She tasted so good and the feel of her against him was the best feeling that he could ever have. He reached his hands around to grip her denim-clad bum in his hands and her head fell back over her shoulders, that glorious red mane tickling his hands as he suckled at her breast.

By the time he moved to the other breast, she was softly purring his name. He cupped and molded them to his hands, kneading them, pushing them up and together, eyes wide in amazement as he fondled them joyously. He kissed them; around and over, trailing his tongue beneath and around, kissing her areola, kissing between them, and then sucking on her nipple again while his fingers gently tugged on the other one.

"Lucas..." she gasped.

He looked up at her, a soft smile on his face, his eyes full of arousal and he slid his hands back down to grab her ass, squeezing. He massaged, moving his hands around before he dipped one hand between her legs and slid his fingers across the denim. Her eyes rolled.

Max's eyes were dark with arousal as she spoke. "Yes."

He smiled coyly, bending his head to lick her breast again, rubbing her a bit harder through the denim and she groaned.

"Max?"

Max's gaze met his.

"I want to touch you."

Max gave a small nod and let out a tiny gasp when he popped open the button on her jean shorts. The zipper slid down slowly and she kept her eyes on him. Then his hand slid beneath the denim, and those fingers were stroking through her panties. The sensation of it, of him touching her so close yet not quite skin to skin, made her buck against him. When he bent his head to suckle her nipple again, she groaned; she knew that he could feel how wet she was.

She bucked again, her face falling towards his, and he kissed her passionately. Her cheeks were flushed from his touch and he kept his eyes on hers as his fingers stroked her through the cotton. He arched a finger a bit in a come hither motion, pushing in through the cotton, and she gasped.

"Is that okay?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Mmmhmm," she said, rocking against his hand.

Lucas licked his lips. Without taking his eyes off of her, he moved his fingers slightly to the left and slid under her panties. The feel of hot flesh made him moan. His fingertips danced along the edge of that soft flesh and when he dipped them into her, finding wet heat, she gasped.

God, it felt incredible. It was hot and wet and utterly delicious. The feel of her pressing around him, pulsing and knowing that he was the reason she felt this way, was astounding. He moved his finger along her folds, basking in the feel of her as she moaned.

"Higher," she whispered

He grinned widely, sliding his slick fingers up along her folds and covering her clit. The feel of the nub made him pause. He remembered his fathers had told him about the clit, that little bud that was part of the secret to a woman's pleasure, and he rubbed it experimentally. The sound she made had his grin widening. He rubbed it harder, swirling his finger in a circular motion, changing the angle as her breathing changed and then twisting it lightly.

Her breath hitched. "God... I..."

"Good?"

She bit her bottom lip, arching her neck back and he moved his fingers quicker. He bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth again as his fingers worked her over, rubbing and pressing into her as he suckled at her breasts. Max let out a strangled breath, clamping around his fingers, and cried out his name.

The sound she made as he continued to suckle her nipple made any blood he had left in his body dwindle down. When she bucked against him, he bit back his own groan. It was the most incredible feeling he could imagine. That hot, wet heat pulsed and trembled against him, around him, and the thought of that feeling around his cock almost made him come on the spot as her hips jerked against his hand.

Max kissed him deeply, sighing when his hands moved up to cup her breasts again. "That was… I mean… wow."

Lucas grinned slowly. "I aim to please, Mad Max," He said as he lightly kissed her.

Max chuckled, her eyes on him. "You sure do, stalker. And it's okay, you know. Showing emotion in front of me. You don't have to hide that from me. God knows I struggle with letting down my walls."

Lucas nodded and kissed her softly. "Thank you. And I like your walls. I like being the one to break them down."

The sound of footsteps approaching the door caused the pair to go into a frenzy. Max scrambled for her strapless bra, slipping it back on as Lucas did up the buttons on her vest. She'd just stood up; zipping up her shorts when the door opened and Dustin peered in.

"There you two are! Come on, El's about to talk with Mary!" He said anxiously.

Lucas and Max looked at each other in surprise before following after Dustin, hand in hand.

---

Abbey looked unimpressed. "Vengeance blackens the soul, uncle," she responded. "You should know that better than most."

"You plan on convincing me otherwise, Abbey?" Danny asked. "Because it won't work."

Abbey frowned slightly. "Okay then let's assume you kill Randall Flagg. What happens next? You're going to keep avoiding the Dark Tower for the rest of your life? And what if Flagg kills you? You'll wake up again in the Mohaine desert and restart your quest again chasing after Randall Flagg," she said.

"I don't know, okay?!" Danny yelled. "But killing Flagg is all I have left. I will not climb the Dark Tower again. I will not watch as my Ka-tet die one by one over and over again."

Abbey's face softened as she stared back at her uncle. "Uncle, I know you are determined to live your life alone but you're not. You have Mike, you have Nancy and you have Karen if only you would open up to them," she pleaded.

"Open up to them?" Danny scoffed. "Karen can't fucking stand me, Nancy and Holly barely know me and Mike...Mike should just forget about me. Anytime anyone gets close to me they will die." His face tightened as his eyes were filled with sadness. There was a time when Danny would have embraced Abbey and kissed her for being the first person to understand, to truly understand.

But those days were gone. Gone forever. The genie had been trapped in the lamp for too long. Far too long.

Abbey seemed to understand. "Uncle, as one of the Endless I can see many things that disturb me. Visions of loveliness and visions of horror, wonders and terrors. Sights and sounds of days gone by and days to come and days that never were. I see Hawkins surrounded in flames. I see the Child That Was Promised returning. I see the lonely child and renegade standing together. I see the Chosen One leading us against the darkness. I see a family reuniting after so long. I see..." For a long moment, Abbey didn't speak.

"What is it?" Danny asked anxiously.

"I see him. He is returning. Returning, returning, returning. He is slowly returning through the dark and the past. Always returning, returning for revenge. He sits inside your head, he lives among the dead, he sees you in your bed, and eats you when you're sleeping," Abbey muttered. For a brief moment she seemed in a trance, her eyes far away.

"Who? Who's returning? Abbey?" Danny asked.

Abbey seemed to snap out of her trance. "That I do not know. We Endless only see glimpses and not the full picture," she answered.

Abbey glanced up at Danny and for the first time her usual serene look was replaced with one of seriousness. "Uncle, the person you seek is ahead," she said as she gestured towards where the presence that Danny had felt lay ahead. "But before I go, I would remind you that path you are currently on will not lead you to the peace you so desperately seek. I urge you to reconcile with your sister and the rest of your family and return on to your quest otherwise more earthquakes will follow and more people will, sadly, die."

And with that, Abbey, Delirium of the Endless, was gone. Danny stared at the spot where she had once stood, his face deep in thought, thinking about the visions she had spoke about. One had stood out to him in particular: the Child That Was Promised. Could it mean...

It doesn't matter at the moment, Danny thought to himself. Focus on the here and now. Turning his eyes away from where his niece had been, Danny advanced towards where he could feel the presence getting stronger and stronger and as he did he found himself gripping his head tightly, screaming louder and in greater pain than ever before.

The gunslinger found himself bombarded by a massive assemblage of new information. Terrible information!

In the wake of this sudden flood of grotesque sensation, Danny found himself trapped. Trapped in the sights and sounds of every conceivable cruelty throughout humanity's centuries fuelled by the horrid imaginations of so many gluttons for pain and punishment! And that was only in the first few seconds, those were only the mundane cruelties. What came afterward was a monstrous progression into brutalities unmistakably its own.

As horrors beyond the limited grasp of humanity's understanding and vision remained, Danny staggered further, deeper and deeper into the forest, until he finally could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

A hooded figure was waiting for him wearing long full-body robes of black. The sights and sounds inside Danny's head continued, it was as though his head was on fire.

"Welcome Daniel Torrance, son of Jack and Wendy. We meet at last," the cloaked figure said speaking in a soft tone that seemed to echo throughout the clearing. The figure then removed his hood and robes, revealing he had clothes underneath.

He was a long-haired blonde middle-aged man wearing a denim jacket. His eyes were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. His hands, Danny noticed, were covered in a red liquid and his shirt was slightly stained with the same red liquid.

"You're a long way from Twin Peaks aren't you, Bob?" Danny said. "Your reputation precedes you. The reputation of a murder and child molester." (13)

Bob smiled and nodded. "I thought a change of scenery was in order," he said calmly shrugging to himself. "Stay in one place too long and people will start to notice you."

"Whose blood is that?" Danny demanded.

Now Bob smiled. It was a taut leer, an evil thing, more satisfactory than a threatening look.

"I believe their names were Tommy and Carol," he said softly. "They were going at it in the back seat of their car near the creek when I came across them. I simply couldn't resist, it was like waving a red cape in front of a charging bull. Oh how Carol screamed when I possessed Tommy to kill her. You should have heard how Tommy wept for her after he realised he had unwilling killed his wife. Of course, I killed him too shortly afterwards before he could do anything about it. Tell me this that why you're here? To bring me to justice?"

"Yes and no," answered Danny. "You will, undoubtedly, face justice for the many crimes you've done. But I'm here for a different reason. You see, for a very, very long time now, I've been chasing the Man in Black. And every time I get close to catching him he always manages to slip away. So I realised rather than continuing to chase after him across different worlds, why not lure him to me with some bait. And what better bait to catch Randall Flagg then his own father?"

Bob's smile had returned. "Clever idea," he said, impressed. "But also stupid. I haven't seen Walter Padick since he was a baby. You think he's going to come to rescue a father he has no memory of?"

Danny's hand reached into one of the holsters, pulled out one of his guns and aimed it straight at Bob. Bob's smile vanished as he stared back at Danny and the gun. "I don't care if he remembers you or not. I want him here in front of me, so I can kill him. And right now, you're the best chance I've got," Danny replied.

"I've lived many centuries, had many forms. In all that time do you think anyone has ever threatened me?" Bob asked coldly. "Daniel Torrance, Roland Deschain of Gilead, the Gunslinger, the Survivor of the Battle of Jericho Hill. Like me you have gone by many names." Bob closed his eyes as if in prayer. "Gilead. The ancient capital city of the kingdom of Shandalle, one of the smallest kingdoms of the Westlands. I was there once long, long ago. Artur Paendrag Tanreall – the infamous "Hawkwing" – had just been crowned High King of all the Westlands and the All-World. During his coronation he pledged he and his descendants would protect the Dark Tower and stop the earth from falling back into ruin. Such a noble declaration," he scoffed, his eyes still closed. "During the coronation banquet I and followers of the Prim arrived uninvited and bearing gifts. These gifts were thirteen coloured crystal balls called Maerlyn's Rainbow and I offered them to the newly crowned King Artur, knowing that they would bring chaos into the world. Of course, Artur soon realised their true evil nature and ordered them to be shattered but as they were unbreakable, he had to instead have them hidden away in a cave. Yes, I remember it well."

Realisation hit Danny like a ton of bricks as he listened to Bob's story. "Then you're –"

Bob's eyes had opened now as a malevolent smirk crossed his face. "That's right." Bob's face began to change. His blonde hair turned into a long mane of grizzled grey hair, his skin becoming winkled, his back became hunched.

"I was Maerlyn," the old man said. (14)

---

Mary had been hoping for this but was still a little startled when it happened. While she had taken great pleasure in pulling out and feeding on the fruits of emotional anguish from Danny, Dustin, Lucas, Max and Mike, she was starting to lose a little patience. However, the universe, in its all-knowing indifferent wisdom, had Mary's patience greatly rewarded. For sitting a few feet away from her was the forbidden fruit she had wanted from the start. Eleven!

The door was locked shut and the three guards were rooted to the spot by Eleven's powers. She could hear banging and knocking from the outside of the cell, no doubt Hopper and Mike. Eleven had seen already what Mary could do with her twisted head games and was determined to spare her father and Joyce their pain.

"You want me? Here I am."

"Yes indeed. Admittedly I was looking forward to speaking with Jim and Joyce but I'll always settle for you. And you're right; I knew sooner or later the queen, you Eleven, would be exposed and come to me."

"Congratulations your right. I'm here now so let's get this over with. What do you want?"

Mary inwardly praised her sister. She knew that given her already strong connection to Mike plus her sympathy for Dustin, Lucas and Max, she would be very on-guard. Also, unlike those other three, Eleven had no festering issues tormenting her…yet. They still had to be built, starting now.

"Oh, many things. My jelly babies returned for starters. This ridiculous collar off me. Some decent heath care in American would be good too. Plus gun control. Do you know that 7,500 children are admitted to US hospitals with gunshot wounds every year, and of those admitted, 500 die from their injuries? Guns are estimated to kill twice as many children as cancer, five times as many as heart disease, and 15 times as many infections. Guns are killing children. Children are killing with guns. Now you may ask – how are they getting their hands on these weapons? But the real question is – why are so many unsecured loaded weapons kept in the safe haven of home?"

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Guns are weapons. You are a weapon, Eleven," Mary said with a smirk so unpleasant.

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are. You've killed people. Just like I have. Just like Jim Hopper has. Hell, he tried to kill me back in Vietnam! And yet you call this man father."

"He is my father," Eleven snapped.

"A father figure you mean," Mary corrected. "All Jim did was keep you locked up in a cabin for – how long was it again? 353 days? Not exactly father of the year if you ask me.

"Plus have you never wondered why he took you in? Why he left all those eggos out in the freezing snow for you to find? He didn't care about you but what you represented to him. It's funny of all the people who could have adopted my sister it ended up being Jim Hopper. The man who had lost his daughter now face to face with his greatest wish: a second chance to be a father. Jim sees you as nothing more than a replacement to Sara."

"That's not true!" Eleven yelled.

"Wake up, Eleven!" Mary urged, her voice rising slightly. "The only reason Jim adopted you and took you in was because you could the daughter he never got to have. Why can't you see that? Why can't you see who Jim Hopper really is? This is the man who led a mutiny against me! He is a traitor to this country!"

"Hop has treated me with nothing but love, respect and kindness – a far cry from Brenner and how he treated me," Eleven replied. Her eyes softened as she looked at Mary. "How he treated you. I know about the tests he made you do. I know the decision to be a soldier in Vietnam wasn't yours. Brenner made it for you."

Fury burned in Mary's eyes. "Silence!" she barked. "You think you know me? It was who sat for years thinking of nothing but you. I hated you. All I could think about, at first, was finding who you were and killing you. Proving to Papa that he had made a mistake by sending me away in favour of you. Now, I realise, I was mistaken."

The fury in Mary's eyes was now gone. Instead her eyes looked as if they were soaked in regret and longing

"For as long as I can remember, I have lived in a never-ending nightmare. I felt trapped in a dark forest, where any clear path was lost. In every direction, there was either emotions of joy that I couldn't feel or emotions of pain that I could. Alone, unwanted, unloved. The only people who I knew of either saw me as a weapon to be used on their enemies or as something to be studied and understood. Any chance or hope of finding a paradise was lost." Her voice was so resonant, so beautiful, and so haunting. And yet, for once, Mary was not trying to use this for some desired end. She just spoke honestly and was breaking Eleven's big heart.

"We are so similar, you and I. But you have everything I lack. But while in Pennhurst I realised that I have nothing to blame you for. I want you to know that whatever else you think of me I am your sister. And I know I need to clear the air between us. So I'm going to do that right here and now by being honest with you. I want you to know I will never lie to you, Eleven. And I'm going to prove it: I killed Will Byers. I pushed him off the cliff."

"What?" Eleven said. She felt as though something inside her was falling, falling through the earth, leaving her forever.

Outside the cell, a sinking feeling nearly buckled Joyce's knees and she slumped into the seat in front of the monitor. No sooner had she made peace with the fact that no magic could bring Will back, now she was looking at the eyes of his killer. Part of her was relieved, of course, that she now knew the truth. It hadn't been suicide. Mary had killed her son.

"I know that sounds bad–" Mary started to say but Eleven, now in a fit of whit-hot rage, had seized her with her powers, hurling her against the wall. Mary's vision swam. She tried to get up, but realised she was already in the air, held aloft by Eleven's telekinesis. Eleven slammed her into the floor. Then Mary was off the ground again, slammed into the opposite wall. Mary could taste blood in her mouth. Her head hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

Eleven brought Mary forward towards her with a wave of her hand. Now suspended in mid air in front of her sister, Mary allowed herself the opportunity to gather her thoughts before Eleven decided to slam her into another wall.

"Why?" demanded Eleven, her white-hot anger boiling as she spoke.

"To test a theory," Mary said breathlessly. "Such anger. It's a good performance Eleven but in the end that's all this little display of rage is: a performance."

"Will was my brother!" barked Eleven furiously. "I loved him!"

"Oh I don't dispute the bond you and Will shared on account of being brother and sister as well as similar tragic childhoods. No what I question is how deeply you cared about him, if you did at all."

"Don't you try those twisted head games of yours with me! Of course I cared about Will!"

"Then answer me this; what did Will do upon graduation?"

"Um…" Was all Eleven could say, her anger momentarily forgotten as she released Mary from her telekinetic hold. In truth she had no idea. Will had never mentioned what he had done after graduation.

"What about you, Joyce?" Mary asked, with no chance in her quiet, thoughtful tone, as she dusted herself off, sat back on her chair as if nothing had happened and stared up at the single security camera. "Surely you would know what your own son went on to do after he graduated?"

Outside, Joyce's eyes remained fixed on the monitor. Like Eleven, her mind was blank. She turned desperately to Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Max as if asking them for support. But their minds were likewise blank. They all had no idea.

"I did not think so," Mary said turning her attention away from the security camera and back to Eleven. "I, however, do know. You see, in 1993 at the end of November Will assumed a Peace Corps position in Botswana. In 1995 in December Will returned from Botswana but refused to speak to anyone about his time there.

"You see, for all your talk of how much you loved Will none of you actually knew him very well. And to be fair you were all busy. Colleges, marriages and babies all ended up taking up so much of your time and Will was unfortunately forgotten about as a result. But not by me. No, Will was always my favourite. And that's why it made it so hard for me to push him off that cliff. Like me, Will knew what trauma and tragedy was like from a young age. He and I could have been kindred spirits in another life perhaps. We'll never know."

"How...How do you know that?" Eleven asked, surprised.

"Simple, I watched him through the Void."

"You can enter the Void?" asked Eleven.

Mary nodded. "Yes. Admittedly I was not as prominent with the ability as you were. Plus I did not have a sensory deprivation tank in Pennhurst. No, instead I had to submerge myself whenever I got the chance to take a bath. But now, now I have progressed to the point where all I had to do now is simply mediate to go into the Void.

"But enough about me or Will. Like I said, you're the one I so desperately wanted to see you. To ask you."

Speaking in a tone of vulnerability, Mary asked her sister something she had occasionally pondered but never said aloud for lacking an audience, human or otherwise.

"What is it like? How does it…How does it feel to happy? To be loved? To feel love?"

---

In the men's room of the facility, a janitor mopped the floor. Toilets flushed in the background. Crumpled paper towels littered the floor. She paused to peek at her wristwatch.

Almost time, she thought.

Beth reached into her bucket and extracted a sealed Ziploc bag. A micro-Uzi machine gun waited inside the bag.

Beth tossed away her mop.

---

The younger guard, who earlier had been discussing the recent earthquake that had hit Los Angeles and seen Danny leave, approached the empty guard's locker-room and entered his locker combination. A bulging gym bag lay crammed inside. Glancing about to make sure he was alone, Benny unzipped the bag and inspected a loaded sub-machine gun. Smuggling the gun into the building had not been easy nor had it been easy for him and Beth to infiltrate the facility, but the time for stealth was almost over.

Their goal was simply: free Mary as quickly and efficiently as possible. Benny hoisted the bag over his shoulder and trotted towards where the engine room was.

---

"You're Maerlyn?" Questioned Danny. "But then you would have to be –"

"Many hundred years old, yes. You seek vengeance on my son but you have made a grave mistake. For I have had so many forms through the centuries. And that is why it is so amusing that you, the last of the gunslingers, thinks that I can be threatened."

Maerlyn morphed into a tall mediaeval knight with a Glasgow smile carved into his face. "I know every secret. I know the past and can see the future."

Then he turned into an obese slump-shouldered man with patterns of green and red squares covering his face and bald head. He wore a mock helm fashioned from an old tin bucket, with a rack of deer antlers strapped to the crown and hung with cowbells. "I am the thing that keeps you up at night. The evil who haunts the dark corner of your mind."

With each step Bob took, Danny stepped further back, both his guns now pointed at him.

He turned into a man with burnt skin, and red and black striped shirt and blades for fingers. "I am God!"

He turned back into wearing black clothes, but now with a shaven face and even spaced needles sticking out of his head. "I am pain!"

He now transformed into a yellow pyramid with one eye and a top hat. "I am your new lord and master for all of eternity!"

Then he turned into a clown with a white face, surrounded by red balloons. "I am the eater of worlds!"

Finally, he showed his true form. A torso of molten flesh sitting atop three armoured legs. The creature bore two gangly arms, each with a hand of four clawed fingers. Instead of a head, the monster had four tentacles and a tail that reached up to the tallest tree. All over the creature, mouths of sharpened teeth as he triumphantly shouted his true name,

"I am ... The Crawling Chaos ... NYARLATHOTEP!"

---

It's done. With 81 pages and 28,184 words, chapter 14 has been the longest chapter I have written for this story. I could not be more proud of it. So much juicy information told in this chapter from the Party learning the existence of wizards and magic to exploring more about Danny Torrance to Joyce coming to terms that Will can't come back to life to finding out Lucas lost his father on 9/11 this chapter is full with more titbits about these characters and their past.

This chapter saw the return of Sam Owens from Season 2 of Stranger Things. He's still working with the CIA but I wanted to show he has weariness to him. Next chapter will be exploring him a LOT more in flashbacks and his relationship/friendship with Kingsley Shacklebolt from Harry Potter.

This chapter was original going to be even longer but my friend gap80 convinced me to split it into two halves to save time on editing and end it on a cliff-hanger instead. So thank you gap80 for your suggestion, your encouragements and as always your continued support!

Now obviously Mary takes centre stage in this chapter. Her character is just so fun to write, especially in this particular chapter where I got to show what a genius she is at manipulation. I had a lot of fun writing Mary spinning on a dime, going from the calm to the explosive, from the gentle to the brutal in a nanosecond.

Mary is charismatic, she's beguiling, she's troubled, and she's a sociopath. But I also wanted to especially when she gets to speak alone with Eleven explore how lonely she is deep down and that she does see Eleven as her sister and ultimately wants nothing more than to have Eleven be her sister and to not be alone anymore. And you will see as the story goes on, how desperate Mary becomes and the lengths she goes to bring Eleven over to her side.

Another character I got to explore was Danny Torrance/Roland from Stephen King. If you've read the Dark Tower book series then you know obviously how Roland's story ends. What I wanted to do was what happens if you push him to the edge, what this character would do if he has experienced his quest over and over with the same result always happening. It would drive you mad. The section with him and Abbey was one of my favourites to write. This is a man who has just completely given up at this point and just wants to die. But he can't die so the only thing he has left that drives him is revenge. It's tragic but it's also really fascinating at least for me getting to show a man who wants to die and yet can't and how that would impact a person and his relationships with other people like his sister and Mike and his niece Abbey.

Three new character were also introduced this chapter. My OC Abernathy, Abby/Delirium of the Endless from Neil Gaiman's graphic novel The Sandman and Killer Bob from Twin Peaks.

Abernathy was so much fun to write. His snide attitude to Danny and particularly everyone else was a joy to write. His back and forth with Danny was based obviously on Snape from Harry Potter but I also mouldered him off Tywin Lannister even fancasting his actor Charles Dance to play him.

Abby/ Delirium will be a recurring character in this story. Think of her as Danny's moral compass who will try and urge her uncle to do the right thing. Abbey is from Stephen King's book Doctor Sleep and Danny and Abby's mother Lucy are half-siblings with the same father: Jack Torrance. The same is true in my story thus making Mike and Abby cousins.

And finally Killer Bob/Nyarlathotep from H.P. Lovecraft will be the secondary antagonist in this story from now on after Mary. His story will be directly tired to Danny and as the story goes on you will see just how deadly and dangerous and frightening Bob is not just to Danny but the entire town of Hawkins.

And finally the elephant in the room: yes Lucas and Max have sex. The first time I've ever written smut and it turned out to be the hardest part of the chapter, believe it or not. It only took up 4 pages but I rewrote it 6/7 times trying to get it right. Hopefully it's good and doesn't throw off the pacing. If you don't want to read it that's fine. I understand and I've put up a disclaimer to where the smut section is so you can skip it if you want to.

Here are some end-notes that I must explain:

(1) The Overlook Hotel is the seating for Stephen King's novel the Shinning

(2) Randall Flagg is the main antagonist in Stephen King's The Stand and he also appears in King's Dark Tower novels.

(3) Johann Konrad was the real-life basis for Mary Shelley's Doctor Frankenstein and was a German physician, alchemist and occultist.

(4) Miss Peregrine is from the series of books called Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. It is also a movie directed by Tim Burton.

(5) The Crimson King is the main antagonist of the Dark Tower books.

(6) The Battle of Jericho Hill details the final battle between the gunslingers of Gilead and the forces of John Farson's rebellion in the Dark Tower book.

(7) The Unseelie Accords is from the "Dresden Files" universe. Similar to the Vienna Convention of Diplomatic Relations it is a set of agreements that govern behaviour between supernatural nations in the Dresden Files.

(8) Heinrich Kemmler and the information about him is taken from the Dresden Files

(9) Hints at things to come

(10) Delirium of the Endless is from Neil Gaiman's The Sandman graphic novel

(11) the Horn of Eld is an object from the Dark Tower books

(12) That is another story for another time

(13) In the show Twin Peaks Bob raped and murdered Laura Palmer which kick-started the show.

(14) Maerlyn is a dark wizard again from the Dark Tower.

Please don't forget to read and leave a review. This chapter is the longest I've written and it would mean the world if I could get some reviews for it. Stay tuned to the next chapter and I hope you enjoy reading this one!