The lab looms in the distance, the massive structure rising from the darkness like something out of a nightmare. Its brick surface almost seems to glow in the faint moonlight, the windows dark and hollow, like dead eyes watching us.

"Something's wrong," I say, slowing to a stop. Dustin slows next to me, still silent, still upset with me, but lifts a brow, his eyes studying the building, trying to catch what's making me unnerved.

"What do you mean?" he asks, but I catch the tinge of doubt in his voice at my observation.

"The power's out," I say, pointing towards the building. A chill runs down my spine, realizing that even the lights on the satellite towers are out, the cold night air biting deeper into my skin.

Steve stops, shining his flashlight up towards windows, his jaw is clenched in a way that tells me he's more worried than he let ons. "So?" he asks, turning the flashlight on me.

I hesitate before saying it, not wanting to sound like I'm freaking out but something about the dark windows gnaws at me. "Don't you think a lab would have back-up generators?" I ask, walking closer to Steve and the building, pointing again to the top of the satellite towers. "There's something wrong. All of those things came back here for a reason and there's not a sign of life in sight."

Steve narrows his eyes, looking from the building back to me. He opens his mouth before shutting it tightly. I catch the brief flicker of doubt in his eyes before he builds up the courage to speak. "What do you want to do?" he asks, voice lowering so that only I can hear. I glance over my shoulder, back to my brother, Lucas, and Max.

"If we know they're all here," I begin, shrugging slightly, "they won't come after us if we try to make it the rest of the way home."

"Unless they're done here," Steve mutters, swallowing heavily. "You said it… there's not any signs of life."

Another distant growl ripples through the air, this one closer. Steve shines the flashlight ahead, shoulders tensing, and I can tell he's starting to feel the same creeping sense of dread that I do. "We can at least see what's down there," Steve finally says, his tone firm, "security or something."

I nod, following Steve down the hill, forcing my feet forward despite the way my brain tells me to run. The trees around us seem to tighten, closing in as we push through the last stretch towards the lab. The growls are louder now, the air thick with the sense that we're being watched. I can feel every muscle in my body tensing, waiting for something to leap out in the darkness. The metal bars of the gate rear up – tall and imposing – glinting in the moonlight.

I swear I hear the sound of something moving through the underbrush , a rustling too deliberate to be the wind. I feel my fists clenching tighter, forcing myself to inhale, trying to stop myself from holding my breath.

"Who's there?" a voice calls from the bottom of the hill and I jump, catching my footing before I can slip down the rest of the way.

Steve's arm jets out to catch me, gripping my arm tightly as I settle my feet. He shines his flashlight into the distance before two familiar voices ring out, "Steve?"

"Nancy?" Steve calls out, his voice rough with relief. I can hear Dustin exhale sharply behind me as we pick up the pace down the hill. "Thank God," Steve mutters under his breath as we hurry towards them.

Steve's flashlight catches Nancy and Jonathan's faces as they emerge from the shadows near the gate. For a split second, relief washes over me – familiar faces in the chaos, but before everyone can catch their breath, Johnathan's eyes widen, sweeping over the kids.

"Where's Will?" he asks, looking past us and into the woods.

"And Mike?" Nancy says, her eyes meeting mine with a curiosity before it shifts into something that can only be described as distate. We have never been friends, not even because of our brothers, but that never stopped our mom's from trying. I can picture us now, in 8th grade, our mom's forcing us to hangout and do homework together while our brother's played. We were too different. Nancy had her own friends, her place within the Honor Society and I had found comfort in Carol and Nicole, in sports. Nancy has always been too smart, too independent to fall for their crap.

I try not to picture the movie marquee, the sound of the spray paint can, or the way Nancy the Slut Wheeler dripped down the sign. It had been Carol's idea, but I didn't try to argue, I just laughed with them, went along like I always do.

"No," Dustin says, cutting in and waving the radio around, "we haven't heard from them all day. They're not at home?"

"No," Jonathan mutters, turning towards the lab as the screeches of the demodogs echo through the clearing. "We have to get in there."

Jonathan takes off to a run back towards the security booth and we follow without question. I try not to think about what it feels like – knowing your brother is somewhere you can't reach them, can't protect them. We skid to a stop in front of the gate, Jonathan, pressing the button in the security booth over and over again in a weak attempt to open the gate. I watch, feeling helpless, glancing between Jonathan, Nancy, and then my brother. The power is out, the gate is useless, but this can't be the only way in.

Turning back to the chain link gate, I study the barbed wire looping over the top to keep us from climbing over. I know there's nothing we can do to cut through the fence, but my eyes land on the wheels of the gate. I walk over, taking a moment to push on the gate a bit, feeling the tension against the wheels, they budge slightly, before locking in place and bouncing back. I try again, pushing harder this time, but the gate still doesn't budge.

"Jonathan," Dustin argues from behind me, "let me try."

"Stop," Jonathan argues and I look up, watching as Jonathan tries to push Dustin away. The two are lightly pushing each other away from the button, bickering over who gets to push it and whether or not the main power matters because there should be a backup source.

I open my mouth to tell Dustin to leave him alone, but there's no time. If the power doesn't come back on, we'll never get into the lab this way. I ignore them, kneeling closer to the wheels, trying to understand how the track system works. I can hear the clicking of the button, my brother and Jonathan arguing, but I glance at Steve and then Nancy, inhaling sharply. "What if we try to push it open?"

"If it was that simple," Nancy sighs, "what's keeping all of Hawkins teenagers from sneaking in here for their dares?"

"Security?" I argue, ignoring the sharp tone of Nancy's voice. There's an undercurrent of frustration to it and I try to remind myself that it's not directed at me. "It has to be able to open manually. They have to get in and out in case… in case shit like this happens."

Nancy sucks in her cheeks, but I can see her mind beginning to turn. Her eyes meet mine, and she nods subtly, closing the distance between the two of us. She crouches down beside me, studying the wheels, "They don't have brakes."

"They wouldn't," I mutter, I turn to look at the security booth, "But there has to be a manual release for the track system, right?"

Nancy nods, following my line of eyesight to the security booth before turning and walking along the edge of the gate. She stops, studying a control box off to the side, just hidden in the darkness, "What do you know about motors?"

"Absolutely nothing," I admit, laughing nervously, "you?"

She shakes her head, turning back to the control box. Her fingers trace the lines of the wires, gently touching some of the knobs, and the release levers. Her brows are furrowed and she's muttering to herself, I watch her for a second, feeling the tension pulling tighter with each passing moment. I press my lips into a firm line, knowing that I can't even begin to offer anything useful – I know as much about mechanics as I do about quantum physics.

Dustin and Jonathan's voices carry over from the security booth, still arguing, but my eyes land on a shelf behind them. "I'll be right back," I mutter, more to myself than Nancy. I turn on my heel, jogging back toward the booth. The distant growls echo through the wind, feeling louder than before as they echo out of the dark building.

Inside, the security booth is cramped and dim, only the faint light from the moon illuminating the space. I nudge Dustin out of my way and he makes a face at me, but doesn't stop pressing the button repeatedly, as if doing it a thousand times will magically bring the power back on. The bookshelf is scattered with loose papers and binders, my fingers fumbling through the mess, flipping through what looks like maintenance logs, but nothing about the gate. Of course, the answer wouldn't just be sitting out in the open.

"What are you doing?" Dustin asks, watching as I start knocking the binders onto the ground, groping around the top shelves for any papers I can reach.

"I need a maintenance manual," I mutter, waving my hand for him to get out of the way. Dustin steps back from the button, watching as I open a drawer, rifling through the mess of papers. My hands are trembling, fumbling with the junk in the drawers with each passing second.

Get a grip, I tell myself, pulling the drawer all the way out. I can feel Dustin's eyes on me, watching with some curiosity. For a moment, I think he might say something, that he has caught on and will help me search the office, but when I look up towards him, meeting his eyes, I find that my brother's gaze is still distant – still cold. He shakes his head at me before turning his attention back to Jonathan.

I bite my cheek, holding in my annoyance, forcing myself to ignore the aching in my chest at his dismissal. Before, Dustin would have blindly trusted me, wouldn't even question why I was tearing apart the security booth, but now he just looks at me like he doesn't know me at all. My hands are still trembling, but at the very bottom, something catches my eye – an old, weathered binder shoved all the way in the back, barely visible beneath the clutter. I pull it out, flipping it open to reveal the lab's emergency protocols. My heart skips a beat.

"What if we hold the button down? It might reset it?" Dustin says to Jonathan, completely losing interest in me. I glance at them, holding up the manual, but catch the words in my throat. In the distance, I can see Nancy still kneeling at the control box, her hands messing with wires, while Steve stands over her with a flashlight.

I look at my brother again and sigh, deciding that I don't need his approval for this one. He won't listen anyways. My eyes skim through the pages until I find a section on gate operations. There – manual override. I read faster, glancing at diagrams and instructions, praying that this is what we need. I shove my binder under my arm once I am sure and hurry out of the booth, pushing past Dustin again, not bothering to explain to him what I found. I beeline for Nancy, she glances up from the control box as I approach, her face tense with concentration.

"This is what we need," I say, dropping onto my knees next to Nancy, holding the binder out in front of me like it's some holy grail. My hands are shaking slightly, partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline surging through me.

Nancy glances up, her eyes flicking over the manual before she grabs it, flipping through the page with her finger, her voice tight with concentration. "We flip this switch and push the gate open."

"Where?" Steve asks, leaning in closer, his breath fogging up the air around him.

Nancy flips the manual around, pointing to the control box beside the gate. "It's hidden, but it should be here. We'll need to take this second panel off."

I glance at the rusted, ancient control box. It looks like it hasn't been touched in years. "Anyone have a screwdriver?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. Every second feels like it's slipping away and I glance at the lab doors in the distance, expecting the pack of demodogs to be waiting for us.

"No," Nancy replies, already moving to try and pry the panel off with her hands.

"Keys," I mutter, jamming my hands into my pockets and pulling out my truck keys. "Move." She quickly steps aside, and I wedge one of the keys into the screw. It's a bit too large, but after twisting it at the right angle, the screws start to give. With a final creak, the panel slides off.

I grin, glancing at Nancy, who smiles back just slightly – an unspoken understanding between us – we might not be friends, but something tells me that we're not as different as I thought. I hold up the manual again, pointing to the diagram as Nancy compares it to the control box. She reaches in, fingers hovering over the lever just as a loud pop of electricity hums through the air and the lab lights up like a Christmas tree.

"What the –" I gasp, my mouth falling open as I stand to see the gate groaning to life, sliding open on its own.

"Look!" Dustin yells from the security booth, triumph written all over his face. "I got it!"

I exchange a look with Nancy and then Steve, my frustration bubbling up. "You have to be kidding me," I mutter, laughing bitterly as the gate creaks wider, almost mocking our efforts.

"I'm gonna kill him," I add, turning towards Steve, who fights his smile as my brother high-fives Lucas and then Max.

"Later, okay?" Steve teases, nudging me forward as Nancy hurries over to Jonathan, the two of them climbing into his car.

"Stay here!" Jonathan says, pointing at us from the window. "We'll get them out and then get out of here."

Jonathan doesn't give us a chance to argue, his car already fading in the distance. I find myself standing still by the gate, watching as the tail lights of his car disappear around the corner of the building, following the direction of the long driveway. The lab seems taller, the lights casting long shadows down the windows – a beast awakening in the night.

My eyes find Dustin standing beside Lucas and Max, his radio still clutched tight in his hands. He doesn't even look my way, doesn't acknowledge the effort Nancy and I just made, but I know he doesn't care – whatever I've done or tried to do doesn't matter. My chest tightens, a dull ache settling in my ribs. When did things get like this between us?

I remember a time when he would cling to me, following me around the house like a shadow. We bicker, sure, but it never lasts long. Even when things with Dad got bad, when it was just the two of us and Mom was working late, we always had each other. But now…

I swallow hard, watching Dustin crack a joke with Lucas, the two of them exchanging grins like everything is fine. I want to feel relieved, to laugh with them, but I can't shake the distance between us, the cold wall that's gone up without me even noticing.

"Hey," Steve's voice breaks through my thoughts, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I force myself to nod, even though my throat feels tight. "Yeah… I'm fine."

Steve gives me a look, his brow furrowing like he doesn't quite believe me, but he doesn't push. He just stands there beside me, watching the others like he is trying to figure out what to say. Maybe he sees it too – the shift between me and Dustin – the silence between my brother and I is heavier than ever before.

"Dustin will come around," Steve says after a moment, his voice low and easy. "He talks about you, you know? Even when he's mad."

I swallow the lump in my throat, glancing at Steve. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. All morning, actually," Steve adds with a small smile. "'Lacy this' and 'Lacy that', he's just… figuring stuff out too."

"I used to be the person he depended on," I admit, still watching Dustin carefully. "He's never avoided me like this before."

Steve shrugs, his own eyes settling on Dustin, "I don't think he's ever had to share your attention before either."

I frown, wanting to believe him, but the distance feels like an ocean now and I don't know if I'm going to be able to swim across it.

A low rumble interrupts us, the sound of tires crunching over the gravel driveway pulls my gaze away from Dustin. Steve's hand grips my shoulder, pulling me away from the gate as he squints into the distance. "Jonathan," he mutters, the glow of headlights illuminating the road in front of us.

A second set of headlights just behind cut through the darkness like searchlights and we gather by the security booth as Jonathan blows past us. I barely have time to process what's happening as Hopper's truck comes to a screeching halt. The moment the door swings open, Hopper barks at us, his voice sharp and urgent, "Get in."

I exchange a look with Steve, who gives me a slight nod, and we all pile into the truck, squeezing together. Hopper doesn't waste any time; as soon as the last door slams shut, he guns the engine, tearing out of the lot. The tires skid against the gravel as we fly down the road, away from the lab and the growls that seem to echo in the shadows.

Hopper's truck feels too small for the weight of everything that just happened. He explains what happened in the lab, but I find myself ignoring him once he mentions that Bob did not make it out. Even though I don't know him personally, his face is familiar, a constant face in Hawkins that feels as recognizable as my own. Hopper continues, but I find myself focusing on the way the tires feel as they skid across the gravel, the cold air slipping through the cracks in the windows. It's too quiet inside, the only sounds are the rattling engine and the growls that still echo in my head. My body aches from the tension, every muscle still bracing for something to jump out from the shadows of the tree line.

Dustin sits next to me, his gaze fixed out the window. He still hasn't said anything to me – not since our argument in the woods – and the silence presses down harder than anything outside the truck. I glance at him again, wanting to say something, anything, but I don't know where to start.

Hopper's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror. "I don't want to know what all of you were up to," he scolds, his voice sharp and heavy, "but we're going straight to the Byers'. No more running around in the dark."

I nod, though I know he's talking to all of us. The images of the junkyard, the dark windows of the lab, the weight of Bob's death all swirl around my head. For a second, I picture what it would be like to go home, to walk away from all of this, to be done with creatures and near-death experiences, but as we pass the dirt road leading to the clearing where I usually watch the stars, my thoughts shift, and Billy comes to mind.

I wonder if he's getting ready for our date, unaware of everything that's happening – oblivious to the fact that I'm not home and won't be anytime soon. A pang of guilt tightens in my chest. He'll think I stood him up, and maybe I did. I had no intention of going when I agreed, I knew that, but now?

I can almost hear his voice teasing me, calling me a flake, giving me that sideways smirk that makes it hard to tell if he's annoyed or just messing with me. I had no intention of going when I agreed. I knew that, but part of me wants to call it quits now and go home, to wait for Billy on the porch and pretend like this is all some terrible dream and just be a normal teenage girl, waiting for a boy she really likes.

But nothing is normal anymore.

The truck bumps over another rough patch of road, jolting me back to the present. As Hopper takes the sharp turn down the Byers' driveway, the world outside feels darker than ever, but as the tension settles in again, Dustin's voice cuts through the quiet. "What do you guys know about the Mind Flayer?"