The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting Dustin's room in a dim, orange glow. Dove and Dustin crouched on the floor, scrubbing furiously at the bloodstains on the carpet. The heavy scent of iron still lingered in the air, mixing with the sharp sting of cleaning chemicals. Each pass of the brush felt futile, the stains refusing to disappear as if mocking their efforts.
Dove's arms ached, and the exhaustion from earlier still weighed her down, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. Her mind was racing, thoughts swirling around Dart, Mews, and wondering what the hell they were going to do next. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Dart's gaping, blood-streaked mouth and the horrible sight of Mews' lifeless body.
"I think it's getting worse," Dustin muttered, his voice strained as he scrubbed harder, his brush turning pink with each pass.
Dove looked over at her brother. His face was tight with frustration, sweat beading on his forehead beneath his messy curls. She hated seeing him like this—so determined, yet so powerless.
"We need something stronger," Dove said, sitting back on her heels with a sigh. "This isn't cutting it."
Dustin wiped his brow with the back of his hand and glanced at his walkie-talkie, which had been silent despite his desperate calls for help. His fingers twitched toward it again, the frustration on his face deepening.
Without much hope, Dustin grabbed the walkie-talkie and pressed the button. "Alright, it's Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red."
A crackle of static erupted from the walkie, and for a moment, Dustin's eyes lit up with hope. But it quickly faded when a young girls voice broke through the static.
"Could you please shut up?"
"Erica? Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?" Dustin asked, his face twisting in a mix of hope and anger.
"Don't know. Don't care." She replied.
"Please tell him it's super important." Dustin pleaded. "Please tell him that I have a code-"
"Code red?" Erica asked. "I got a code for you instead. It's called code shut-your-mouth." With that, the walkie clicked off, leaving only the buzz of static behind.
Dustin threw his scrub brush onto the floor with a frustrated huff. "That's it. I need to find Mike. He'll know what to do." He stood up quickly, already heading for the door.
"Wait, Dustin, what about this?" Dove asked, gesturing down to his floor, the now pink stain still glaringly obvious.
Dustin paused in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. "You've got it, right? Besides, one of us should stay here, just in case Mom comes home."
Dove's brow furrowed, and she stood up, crossing her arms. "No way. I'm not staying here to clean while you go running off to deal with this alone."
"I won't be alone, I'll have Mike!" Dustin argued, his voice a little too defensive.
"I'm coming with you," Dove shot back, stepping closer. "I'm in this just as much as you are. You really think I'm gonna sit here and wait while you get yourself into more trouble?"
Dustin looked away, his jaw clenched, clearly reluctant to let her in on whatever was going on. But he knew her well enough to understand that her mind was made up, and there was no use in arguing.
"Fine, but you follow my lead," Dustin finally conceded. "Grab your bike. We need to get to Mike's before it gets any worse."
Dove nodded, already moving toward the door. Within moments, they were outside, their bikes waiting by the garage. The cool night air did little to calm Dove's nerves as she hopped onto her bike, following closely behind Dustin as they pedaled down the street. The familiar roads of Hawkins passed in a blur, but the weight of what they were riding into hung heavily over them.
Dove pulled into Mike's driveway just behind Dustin, the faint creak of their bike chains the only sound in the stillness of the evening. Dustin hopped off his bike, barely slowing down as he threw it onto the grass and bolted toward the front door of the Wheeler house, telling Dove to wait there. His urgency was palpable, his frustration clear from their earlier conversation.
Dove leaned her bike against the fence and crossed her arms, pacing nervously in the driveway. Her eyes flickered toward the house where Dustin was pounding on the door, but no one seemed to be answering.
As Dove stared at the house, a familiar car pulled onto the street in front of it. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized Steve's BMW, the headlights cutting through the darkness as it rolled to a stop just a few feet away from her.
Steve stepped out of the car, looking a little more disheveled than usual. His hair, still somehow perfectly tousled, didn't match the look of uncertainty on his face. In his hand, he held a small bouquet of flowers, and as Dove watched, he began pacing back and forth in front of his car, his gaze fixed on the ground as he mumbled to himself, rehearsing something with quiet, intense focus.
Dove's brow furrowed in confusion as she observed him from a distance. Steve looked up mid-breath, and his face shifted from determination to utter confusion as his gaze landed on Dove. He glanced between her and Dustin, who was still pounding insistently on the door.
After a moment's hesitation, Steve nervously walked over, clutching the roses a little tighter in his hand. "Uh, hey, Dove.. What are you doing here?"
"My brother and I are looking for Mike." Dove replied, nodding toward Dustin, who was now speaking with Mr. Wheeler at the door. She looked back at Steve, her gaze drifting to the roses in his hand. "What about you? What's with the flowers?"
Steve's cheeks reddened slightly as he glanced down at the bouquet, then back up at her, shifting awkwardly. "I, uh.. I came to apologize to Nancy."
Dove raised an eyebrow, remembering their conversation from Halloween. "For what?"
Steve opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, his brow furrowing as if he hadn't even considered the question until now. He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Actually.. I don't even know." He let out a self-conscious laugh, his cheeks reddening a bit more as he looked down at the bouquet in his hand, clearly embarrassed.
Dove watched him for a moment before speaking carefully. "Stop me if I'm overstepping, but.. from what you told me on Halloween, it didn't sound like you did anything wrong." She hesitated, studying his expression. "If anyone should be apologizing, it's her."
Steve's gaze flicked up to meet hers, his expression a little uncertain. "I just thought.. if I showed her I'm still here, still willing to make it work, maybe it'd make a difference. Maybe that's what she wants."
"Maybe." Dove gave a small shrug, her tone gentle. "But have you thought about what you want?"
Steve looked like he was about to respond, his brow furrowing thoughtfully, when Dustin suddenly walked up, his eyes landing on the bouquet in Steve's hand. With a smirk, he asked, "Steve, are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?"
Dustin's comment snapped them both out of the conversation, and Steve blinked, clearly flustered. "What? No.." he stammered, thrown off by the odd question.
"Good," Dustin replied with a grin, reaching out and snagging the bouquet right out of Steve's hands before he could react. The flowers barely registered in his grip before he was already walking toward Steve's car, like the roses had been his all along.
"Hey—what the hell?" Steve started, his confusion deepening as he watched Dustin march off with the flowers. "Hey!"
"Nancy isn't home," Dustin tossed the explanation over his shoulder casually, as if this made everything perfectly reasonable.
Steve blinked, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he tried to process what had just happened. For a moment, he was frozen, his hand still half-raised where the bouquet had been. Dustin was already halfway to Steve's car, motioning for them to follow. Steve rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting before letting out a sigh and walking after Dustin.
Dove didn't say anything as they moved toward the car, her mind still reeling from everything happening at once. She slid into the backseat as Steve and Dustin took the front. Dustin immediately launched into a rapid-fire explanation, speaking directly to Steve as if Dove wasn't even there.
"Wait, what?" Dove tried to cut in, but neither of them seemed to hear her. "Dustin!" she said, louder this time. Still no response. Finally, at her limit, Dove leaned forward and shouted, "Hey!"
Dustin and Steve both flinched, turning to look at her, startled.
"Thank you," she said, her tone dripping with exasperation. She leaned forward, her arms crossed over the seat between them, her brow furrowed. "Care to explain what the hell are you two talking about? I mean, since when do you even know each other?"
Dustin and Steve exchanged a glance, both clearly uncomfortable under her gaze. Dove felt her pulse quicken, her confusion quickly turning into frustration. They were acting like they'd been through some battle together.
Dustin shifted in his seat, running a hand through his curls, his face a mix of guilt and hesitation. "Okay.." he started, his voice softer now. "I guess I owe you the whole story."
And with that, Dustin began to explain everything—starting from when Will went missing last year. He laid it all out in front of her, recounting the harrowing tale of how they discovered the Upside Down, the Demogorgon, and the lab's involvement. He explained how they had fought against monsters from another dimension, how they had barely managed to survive—and how Steve had ended up involved too, helping them face down the Demogorgon to save Will.
Dove listened, her mind reeling as Dustin spoke. She tried to keep up with the flood of information—other dimensions, a girl with superpowers, secret government experiments—but it all felt like too much. The brother she thought she knew had been keeping a life-altering secret from her for almost a year.
As Dustin wrapped up his explanation, Dove leaned back in her seat, her arms still crossed tightly. Her emotions were a whirlwind—confusion, fear, and, most of all, anger. She stared out the window, her mind racing.
"So, let me get this straight," Dove finally said, her voice low but laced with anger. "You fought a monster from another dimension, and you didn't think to tell me? You just let me go on, clueless, while you almost died? You trusted Steve 'The Hair' Harrington with this, but not me?"
Steve's mouth dropped open, looking almost offended. "Hey, hold on, what's that supposed to—" he began, but Dustin quickly put up a hand to stop him.
"Guys, focus," Dustin interrupted, glancing between them with a serious expression. "Look, Dove, I get that you're upset. I would be too. I can't change the fact that I didn't tell you sooner. But what matters now is that you know. So.. no more secrets. I promise."
Dove clenched her jaw, her anger not quite dissipating but subsiding enough for her to nod in agreement. They didn't have time for this—not with Dart in the cellar, not with the danger looming. But the hurt still lingered, sitting heavily in her chest.
The car pulled to a stop in front of Dustin and Dove's house, the headlights cutting through the darkness, illuminating the familiar front yard. The sun had long since set, leaving everything bathed in the shadows of the night. Without waiting for anyone, Dove shoved open the car door and stepped out, her face set in a storm of anger and determination. She slammed the door behind her with a loud thud, the noise echoing in the still air.
Without saying a word, she stormed toward the cellar, her footsteps heavy as she crossed the yard. Her heart pounded in her chest, not just from the adrenaline but from the lingering anger that had yet to fade. She felt betrayed—by Dustin, by Steve, by everything they hadn't told her. And now, there was no room for words, only action.
Reaching the spot where she had left it earlier, Dove grabbed the aluminum bat from the ground, her grip tightening around the cool metal. She turned back toward the house, waiting impatiently for the boys to catch up.
It didn't take long.
Steve was the first to approach, moving with a sense of purpose. In one hand, he held a flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness, but it was the other hand that caught Dove's attention. Clutched in his grip was a wooden bat, nails sticking out from its surface in a crude but effective weapon. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his forearms, tensed and ready for whatever they were about to face.
Steve caught Dove's eye as he walked toward her, his expression serious, but there was something else there too—something unspoken. "You ready for this?" Steve asked, his voice low as he reached her.
Dove didn't answer right away, her gaze locked on the dark cellar door ahead of them. She could feel the weight of the bat in her hand, the tension in the air pressing down on her shoulders. She had no idea what they were about to face down there, but she knew one thing for certain—she wasn't going to be left in the dark anymore.
"Yeah," she said finally, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside her. "Let's end this."
Steve gave a slight nod, gripping the bat with both hands now as he turned his gaze toward the cellar. "I don't hear shit," Steve said, his flashlight pointing at the lock on the cellar door.
"He's in there," Dustin said.
Steve looked between Dustin and Dove before poking the cellar door with his bat. Nothing. He lifted the bat and swung it down, a loud bang reverberating through the air. Still nothing from inside.
"All right, listen, kid," Steve said, shining the light into Dustin's face. "I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you're dead."
"It's not," Dustin said.
Dove rolled her eyes and surged forward, her frustration getting the better of her. She lifted the metal bat above her head and swung it down with all her might, the lock shattering under the force. Both Steve and Dustin jumped, startled by her sudden move.
Without missing a beat, Dove started unwrapping the chains from the cellar doors, the metal clinking as it unraveled and hit the ground. She reached for the handle, ready to pull the door open, but before she could, Steve stepped forward, his hand catching hers.
"Let me do it," he insisted, his tone firm.
Dove rolled her eyes but took a step back, crossing her arms and giving him a pointed look. "Alright, go ahead, tough guy."
Steve shot her a small, determined nod, then gripped the handle and yanked the doors open with a loud creak. The heavy doors groaned as they swung open, revealing the dark, empty staircase that led down into the cellar.
Steve shone the flashlight into the depths below, the beam barely penetrating the darkness.
"He must be further down there," Dustin said, peering over Steve's shoulder. "I'll stay up here in case he tries to escape."
"Jesus Christ," Dove muttered, grabbing the flashlight from Steve's hand and beginning to descend the stairs. Her heart raced as she moved deeper into the cellar, her grip on the bat tightening in anticipation.
The beam of light bounced off the walls as she scanned the room below, her breath catching when it landed on a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. She reached up and tugged the string, and the dim bulb flickered on, casting an eerie glow over the space.
Dove recoiled when her eyes landed on a large, slimy piece of skin on the floor, glistening in the faint light. She felt her stomach turn as Steve appeared behind her, his bat raised as he poked at the slimy skin, his face twisting in disgust.
Dove pressed forward, moving further into the cellar, her heart pounding in her chest. Her steps slowed as she reached the far corner, and her breath caught when she finally saw the reason for the silence. "Dustin, you better get down here!" she yelled up to her brother, her voice tight with disbelief.
Dustin rushed down the stairs, stopping short when he saw what she was looking at. The concrete bricks in the far corner had been torn away, jagged and broken, with thick slime dripping from the edges. Dove stepped closer, her flashlight illuminating a tunnel that had been dug into the dirt, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
"What the hell.." she whispered, the sight of the tunnel sending a chill down her spine. The tunnel stretched out, dark and endless, twisting further than her eyes could follow. A gaping hole leading to something far worse than she could ever imagine.
Steve stared into the shadows, his face twisting in alarm. "That's not good."
"No shit," Dustin muttered, a look of dread crossing his face. He paused for a second, his mind racing. "Okay, new plan: we go to the grocery store and get as much raw meat as possible. We can use it to lure Dart back out."
Dove sighed, shaking her head and straightening up. "There's two problems there. One, it's past nine, all the stores in town are closed. And two, we can't lure Dart back here. We need somewhere far enough out of town that, if something goes wrong, he won't be able to hurt anyone."
Steve's eyes narrowed in thought, glancing between them. "There's that old junkyard on the edge of town. No one's out there at night, and there's enough space for us to set up a trap."
Dove gave a slow nod, her apprehension settling into grim resolve. "Alright. But that still leaves problem one," she pointed out.
Dustin sighed, nodding reluctantly. "We'll have to wait until morning, then. It's not like we have any other ideas."
With that, they turned and made their way back up and out of the cellar. They stepped out into the quiet night air, and Steve closed the cellar doors with a heavy clink.
He turned around, glancing at Dove and Dustin. "Anything else you guys need?" he asked, his tone casual, though Dove could see the flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, maybe even a reluctance to leave.
She exchanged a quick look with Dustin before nodding. "Actually.. there is one thing," she said, giving him a faint smile.
Steve perked up slightly, masking his relief as he waited for her to continue.
Dove gestured toward the house. "We could use some help cleaning up. Dustin's floor, specifically. There's.. a bit of blood."
Steve's face twisted in mild surprise, but he quickly recovered, nodding. "Right. Blood cleanup. Got it," he said with a small, lopsided grin.
When they reached Dustin's room, they found the large pink splotch still staining the floor—a stubborn reminder of their earlier, failed attempts at cleaning it up.
Steve let out a sigh, shaking his head as he surveyed the mess. "You can't just scrub it out," he said, his tone mildly exasperated. "You have to dab it, or you're just smearing it around."
Dove and Dustin exchanged a look, both taken aback by his apparent expertise in blood cleanup. Dove raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement on her face.
Steve looked almost sheepish as he continued. "My mom has this old book," he explained. "One of those housewife manuals. It's got a whole section on carpet cleaning." He glanced at them, then asked, "Do you have any ammonia? It's supposed to work on.. well, tough stains."
Dustin blinked, clearly impressed. "I think there's some in the garage," he said, glancing at Dove. "I'll go get it."
As Dustin darted out, Dove couldn't help but give Steve an incredulous smile. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
Steve shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "What can I say? I've got layers."
Dove chuckled, shaking her head. "So I'm learning." She glanced back at the stubborn stain on the floor. "Still, didn't expect 'Steve Harrington, blood-cleanup expert' to be one of them."
Steve laughed, rolling his eyes and crouching to get a better look at the floor. "Yeah, well, don't go telling everybody. I've got an image to maintain, you know."
Dove chuckled, sitting on Dustin's bed and leaning back on her hands. "Right, King Steve. The guy with the perfect hair, always surrounded by his fan club," she said with a smirk. "Captain of the basketball and swim teams, the smooth-talking flirt with a new girl every month, the guy who barely scrapes by in class but acts like he's way too cool to care about it."
Steve blinked, caught off guard, his smile fading slightly. "Is that.. really how you see me?"
Dove shrugged, meeting his gaze evenly. "That's how everyone outside your bubble sees you," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
Steve stood up, his expression shifting as Dove's words seemed to sink in. She could see him building his walls back up, the easygoing demeanor turning guarded. Before he could retreat any further, she spoke up, her voice gentle but firm.
"Steve," she said, watching him carefully, "I can see right through your 'cool guy' act. You don't have to pretend here."
He hesitated, glancing at her with a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. Slowly, he sat back down, this time on the bed next to her. The guarded look softened just a bit as he let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders relaxing.
"Maybe you're the only one who can," he murmured, almost as if admitting it to himself as much as to her.
Dove shrugged, a small, playful smile on her face. "It's kind of like my superpower," she said lightly. "I can usually tell exactly what people are feeling."
Steve looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, a trace of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh yeah? So what am I feeling right now?" he asked, a challenge in his tone, though his gaze held a certain openness.
Dove looked at him thoughtfully, her smile fading a little as she considered her answer. "You're feeling.. stuck. Like you're trying to figure out who you are, but you're scared to let go of who you think you're supposed to be."
Steve's expression softened, his eyes searching hers, surprised by her accuracy. "Yeah," he admitted quietly. "Guess that superpower of yours is pretty spot-on."
Dove shrugged, giving him a faint smile. "Probably helps that I've had that exact feeling."
Steve's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You?" He shook his head slightly, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. "You always seem.. I don't know, like you've got it all together. Top of the class, all the answers, the one who doesn't take crap from anyone." He paused, his gaze softening. "You're practically untouchable."
Dove let out a quiet laugh, glancing down. "Yeah, well.. guess we're both better at putting up fronts than we realized."
Dustin strode in, holding up the bottle of ammonia triumphantly. "Got it!" he said, completely oblivious to the tension lingering in the room.
Steve immediately stood, reaching out to grab the bottle from him. "Perfect. Let's get this taken care of."
Without missing a beat, the three of them got to work, their movements efficient and focused as they carefully dabbed at the stubborn stain. The ammonia did its job, slowly lifting the pink splotch until it faded completely, leaving nothing but clean carpet behind.
They all sat back, each letting out a small sigh of relief as they looked at their work.
As they finished packing up the cleaning supplies, Dove's mom walked into the room, looking exhausted from her search for Mews. She paused in the doorway, her gaze drifting between the broken turtle tank, the cleaning supplies, and finally landing on Steve. Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.
"What's going on in here?" she asked.
Dove stood up quickly, forcing a calm smile. "Steve came over to study, and.. we heard a crash."
Dustin jumped in, nodding fervently. "Yeah, that was me. I was cleaning Yertle's tank, and.. I kind of dropped it. Steve and Dove were just helping me clean up."
Their mom's tired expression softened into a small smile. "That was nice of them," she said, looking at Steve with a warm nod.
Steve shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the door. "Yeah, um.. no problem. I was just about to head out."
"Have you all eaten?" Mrs. Henderon asked, her voice kind but firm.
Dustin's face lit up. "Actually, no. We haven't."
Their mom smiled warmly. "Well then, let me make you kids something to eat," she said glancing down at her watch, her eyes widening slightly. "Goodness, it's almost 11. Steve, you shouldn't be driving at this hour," she added, looking back up at him. "Why don't you stay the night? The couch is yours if you want it."
Steve looked surprised, glancing at Dove and Dustin, who both shrugged. "Uh.. if you're sure that's alright," he said, trying to sound casual.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Of course. It's no trouble. Now, sit tight—I'll whip something up for the three of you." She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the three of them exchanging amused glances.
Dustin's face lit up with excitement. "Do you guys know what this means?"
Dove gave him a knowing look. "That Mom is stress-cooking again?"
Dustin paused, looking at her as if she'd missed the point entirely. "No. It means we get to have a movie night." he declared, his eyes practically sparkling.
Dove raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Movie night? How can you even think about that right now?"
Dustin shrugged, undeterred. "Look, there's nothing we can do until morning, right? So we might as well enjoy tonight." He grinned, giving her a nudge. "Come on, Dove. One night to just relax and pretend things are normal."
She sighed, glancing at Steve, who gave her a slight shrug. Finally, she relented, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Fine, but no Star Wars."
With a sigh, Dustin trudged toward the living room, muttering something about too many opinions while Dove followed, laughing softly, the tension from earlier finally starting to fade.