Hopper burst into the room, the weight of a shotgun slung in his hands, his face stern and focused. "Away from the windows!" he barked, his voice sharp as he motioned for Max, Lucas, and Dustin to step back. The kids scattered away from the window, their eyes wide with fear and adrenaline.
Hopper scanned the room, his eyes landing on the older kids. "Can anyone use one of these?" he asked, his voice clipped as he held up the shotgun.
Without hesitation, Nancy stepped forward. "I can," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. Hopper handed her the shotgun, and she immediately positioned herself, pointing it at the door with a grim determination.
Dove and Steve exchanged a glance before readying their weapons. Dove's grip tightened on her aluminum bat, and Steve, standing just a few feet away, raised his spiked bat. Hopper stood between them, his machine gun aimed squarely at the front door. The air felt thick with anticipation as they all waited for the inevitable—the moment the monsters would arrive.
The growls outside grew louder, low and guttural, sending a shiver down Dove's spine. The sound of leaves rustling outside the kitchen window made her flinch. Then, a loud thud reverberated from the side of the house, and everyone whipped around toward the noise.
"What are they doing?" Nancy asked, her voice tight as her eyes darted toward the kitchen window.
Before anyone could respond, a sharp snarl erupted from the front of the house. The growls became a cacophony of screeching and groaning, the sound filling the room, pressing in from all sides. Then, there was a crunch—bone, wood, or something else entirely—and the screeching stopped abruptly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Dove barely had a moment to register the quiet before the window to her left shattered with a violent crash. A demodog burst through the glass, landing right at her feet. Its massive form hit the ground with a wet thud, causing Dove to stumble back in shock. She tripped over the edge of the coffee table, falling onto the couch behind her, her bat slipping from her grasp.
Hopper stepped forward, his machine gun aimed at the creature, his finger hovering over the trigger. The rest of the group stood frozen, their eyes glued to the unmoving creature.
"Holy shit," Dustin muttered, his voice barely audible.
Max, her voice shaky, asked, "Is it dead?"
Hopper didn't answer. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving the demodog as he cautiously extended his boot and poked it. The creature didn't move. After a moment, Hopper lowered his gun, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
But before anyone could process what had just happened, the creak of the front door swinging open snapped them back to attention. Dove shot to her feet, her heart pounding as she turned toward the doorway.
A figure stepped inside—a young girl, no older than Dustin. Her dark hair was slicked back, and her clothes were reminiscent of a greaser from the 1950s. She stood tall, confident, her eyes sharp and alert despite the chaos. A thin line of blood trailed from her nose, dripping slowly down toward her upper lip.
Mike's face went pale with recognition as he stepped forward, his eyes wide in disbelief. "El.." he whispered, his voice barely audible, full of awe.
"Mike," the girl replied, her tone soft but steady. Without hesitation, the two embraced, holding each other tightly as if the world had fallen away.
When they pulled apart, Mike's voice cracked as he spoke. "I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for—"
"353 days," Eleven said, cutting him off with a quiet certainty. "I heard."
Mike blinked, surprise washing over his face. "Why didn't you tell me you were there? That you were okay?"
"Because I wouldn't let her," Hopper's gruff voice came from behind, and Mike turned to face him, his expression shifting from relief to confusion. Hopper took a step toward Eleven, a mixture of relief and frustration in his tone. "The hell is this? Where have you been?"
"Where have you been?" Eleven shot back, her voice sharp. Before anyone could react, Hopper pulled her into a fierce hug, holding her close like a father reunited with a lost child.
"You've been hiding her," Mike said, his voice rising, disbelief turning to accusation. "You've been hiding her this whole time!" He shoved Hopper, though the man barely moved under the force of it.
"Hey!" Hopper growled, grabbing Mike by the collar and pulling him back. His voice was firm but low, trying to keep the situation from escalating further. "Let's talk. Alone."
Without waiting for a response, Hopper and Mike hurried down the hallway, their muffled voices echoing off the walls as they moved out of sight. Dustin and Lucas exchanged glances before stepping forward, their faces lighting up as Eleven turned to them.
"We missed you," Lucas said, his voice filled with warmth.
"I missed you too," she replied, pulling both boys into a hug. Her expression softened, the tension melting away for a brief moment.
Dustin grinned as she pulled back, her hand reaching out to touch his face. "Teeth," she stated, her voice full of wonder. "You have teeth."
Dustin's grin widened, and he gave her a playful look. "Oh, you like these pearls?" He made that weird noise—half growl, half purr—that always left Dove cringing.
"How many times do I have to ask you not to do that?" Dove interjected, her tone playful but exasperated. Eleven's brow furrowed slightly as she looked at Dove, clearly confused.
"Oh, right," Dove said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. "I'm Dove, Dustin's sister. In the 24 hours since I learned you exist, I've heard all about you." Her smile was warm as she extended her hand.
Eleven hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out and giving Dove's hand a small shake, her grip delicate but present. "Hi," she said softly, her voice uncertain but genuine.
"Eleven?" Max's voice chimed in from behind. She stepped forward, her posture awkward as she fidgeted with her hands. "Hey. Um, I'm Max," she said, offering a tentative smile and holding out her hand. "I've heard a lot about you."
Eleven's eyes flicked toward Max, but instead of taking her hand, she walked past her without a word, heading straight for Joyce. Max's smile faltered, her hand falling to her side. Joyce's face softened as Eleven approached, and she immediately pulled the girl into a comforting hug.
Dove exchanged a glance with Steve, both of them silently acknowledging the tension that had settled over the room. When Joyce and Eleven finally pulled apart, El's eyes were wide, full of quiet urgency. "Can I see him?" she asked softly.
Joyce nodded, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. She led Eleven into Will's room, where he lay unconscious on the bed.
Max, visibly shaken by the whole encounter, turned abruptly and rushed into the kitchen. Lucas made a move to follow, concern etched across his face, but Dove gently placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "I think she could use a big sister right now," Dove said softly, giving Lucas a reassuring look. With one last glance at Steve, she followed Max into the kitchen.
Dove found Max standing by the counter, her back to the door, staring blankly out the window. The dim sunlight cast long shadows across the room, making it feel colder than it actually was. Max's hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw tight. Dove could see the frustration, the hurt, radiating off of her.
Taking a deep breath, Dove stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "Hey, you okay?"
Max didn't turn around at first, her shoulders stiffening at the sound of Dove's voice. "Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered, though the edge in her voice betrayed her.
Dove raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorway. "You don't sound fine."
Max let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face her. "It's not like I don't get it—she's the hero, the special one. She can do all these things and.." Max's voice trailed off, her frustration bubbling up as she struggled to put it into words. "And I'm just.. nothing."
Dove's heart clenched at the sight of Max's vulnerability, hidden behind layers of sarcasm and bravado. She stepped closer, her expression softening. "You're not nothing, Max. Not even close."
Max looked up, her blue eyes filled with doubt. "It just feels like now that she's here, I'm being pushed aside. I mean, I've heard all about her and what she's done for the guys—and that's great. I get it. But I just.." She hesitated, biting her lip. "I just feel like I don't belong with them anymore."
Dove frowned, nodding as she listened. "I get that." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "When I first got to Hawkins, I didn't really feel like I fit anywhere either. And then I found out about.. all this." She waved her hand, gesturing to the house and everything that had happened. "It's overwhelming, like this huge world you're suddenly supposed to be part of."
Max glanced at her, some of the tension in her face softening. "Yeah, it's like they have this history with her, and now that she's back they don't need me anymore."
Dove leaned against the counter, her tone thoughtful. "I know how that feels. Like you're standing on the edge of something, not quite in. But, Max, they do need you. You've already proven that—you've saved them, you've stuck around when most people would have run for the hills. That's not something they're gonna forget."
Max's expression softened, but she still looked uncertain. "It's just.. it feels like I'll always be on the outside looking in. Like I'll never be as important as ..maybe it's stupid, but.. Lucas.."
Dove's eyebrows raised slightly. "Lucas?"
Max sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah, it's just.. I like him a lot, you know? But with El back, and everything that's going on. I feel like I'm just some girl in way over her head."
Dove leaned against the counter, her tone thoughtful. "Trust me, that's not how Lucas sees you. You're not just some girl to any of us, especially him."
Max scoffed softly, her arms crossing over her chest. "It feels like I am."
Dove paused for a moment, then nodded. "I get that. It's kind of like.. me and Steve, in a way." At Max's curious glance, she continued. "He has all this history with Nancy, and I can't help but wonder if I'm just.. second choice, you know?"
Max studied her for a moment, her expression softening. "So, what? I'm just supposed to act like it doesn't bother me?"
Dove shook her head, her voice dropping slightly. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying you shouldn't let it make you feel like you're not enough." She hesitated for a second before continuing, her voice quieter. "I was.. hurt by someone once, and for a long time, I felt like it was my fault. Like I wasn't good enough. Hell, sometimes I still feel that way."
Max blinked, her gaze sharpening as she processed what Dove had just revealed. "You do..?"
Dove nodded, her eyes briefly distant. "Yeah. It's hard to talk about it, but.. he made me feel so small. Like I wasn't important, just.. something to be used." She exhaled softly, her voice steady again. "But what happened doesn't define me, and it sure as hell doesn't make me less than anyone else. And not having powers doesn't make you less, either."
Max was silent for a long moment, her arms loosening as she took in Dove's words. "Does Steve know? About what happened to you?"
Dove shook her head. "Not exactly. And he doesn't need to, not until I'm ready to talk about it. Just like you get to decide what's important for you to share." She gave Max a small, reassuring smile. "You're your own person, Max. You've already proven that you belong. And Lucas? He sees you. Not El."
Max's eyes met Dove's, and for the first time, there was a flicker of hope in her expression. "You really think so?"
"I know so." Dove's smile widened as she gave Max's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "And you don't need superpowers or a history with the group to matter. You're already part of it, just by being yourself."
Max exhaled, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Dove."
"Of course," As Max and Dove shared a quiet smile, the rest of the group began to filter into the kitchen. One by one, they filed in, the tension still thick in the air. Hopper was the last to enter, his face set with a grim determination. He moved to the head of the table, and everyone instinctively took their places around it.
Dove and Max exchanged a glance before finding their seats. Steve stood behind Dove, his bat leaning against his leg. Nancy, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike huddled closer to each other, their faces drawn with worry. It was clear that whatever Hopper was about to say, it wasn't going to be easy.
Once everyone was seated, Hopper cleared his throat and leaned forward, his hands braced on the table as he scanned the group, ensuring he had their full attention. "It's not like it was before. It's grown. A lot." His voice was low and serious. "And, I mean, that's assuming we can even get into the lab. The place is crawling with those.. things."
"Demodogs," Dustin piped up.
Hopper paused, blinking. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Demodogs," Dustin repeated. "Like Demogorgon and dogs—you put them together, it sounds pretty badass—"
"How is this important right now?" Hopper interrupted, his tone sharp.
Dustin shrank a little in his seat. "It's not.. I'm sorry." His eyes dropped to his hands, and the room went quiet again.
"I can do it," El spoke up suddenly, her voice steady. All eyes turned to her.
Hopper shook his head, frustration in his expression. "You're not hearing me."
"I'm hearing you," El insisted, her voice unwavering. "I can do it."
Before Hopper could respond, Mike jumped in. "Even if El can close the gate, there's still another problem." His voice trembled slightly. "If the brain dies, the body dies. And Will is part of that body. Closing the gate will kill him."
Dove leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "What if we can get the Mind Flayer to stop controlling Will?"
The room fell into a tense silence before Joyce suddenly stood, her eyes wide with realization as sherushed toward Will's room. The rest of the group shared weary glances before quickly following her.
"He likes ir cold." Joyce hurried to the window, slamming it shut. "We keep giving it what it wants."
Nancy's eyes lit up as a thought formed. "If this is a virus, and Will's the host.."
Jonathan finished her sentence, "Then we need to make the host uninhabitable."
"We need to burn it out of him," Joyce said, her voice thick with determination.
"But it can't be here," Mike added, his eyes fixed on Will's bed. "He knows this place. We need to do it somewhere he doesn't know."
"I know a place," Hopper said, stepping over to the bed and gently picking Will up. He gave Jonathan a quick nod and began barking directions as he carried the unconscious boy toward the car.
Steve, catching onto the plan, stepped forward. "There are some space heaters in the shed." He rushed outside, Nancy following close behind. Max gave Dove a knowing look.
Dove started to walk toward the front door when Hopper returned to the house, his face set with determination. "The rest of you are staying here."
"What?" Dove protested, standing up. "No way. We want to help."
Hopper turned toward her. "The best thing you can do right now is stay here and make sure no one else gets hurt." His tone was firm but not unkind.
Dove hesitated, her heart pounding with frustration, but eventually, she gave a small nod. She knew Hopper was right, even if it stung.
Dove stood on the porch with the others, watching as Mike said a quiet goodbye to El, making her promise to be careful. Soon, Hopper's truck disappeared down the road, followed by Jonathan's car with Nancy in the passenger seat.
The rumble of engines faded into the night, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. The world outside felt too still, the calm before the storm. A distant, otherworldly roar echoed from deep within the woods. Dove swallowed hard, trying to shake off the creeping unease.
"All right, inside," Dove said, her voice firm as she ushered everyone back into the house. The door closed behind them with a solid thud, locking out the looming danger—at least for now.
No sooner had they stepped inside than Dustin darted toward the fridge. He yanked open the freezer, tossing bags of frozen vegetables and ice packs onto the floor with reckless abandon. Then he moved to the shelves, sending them crashing to the ground.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dove asked, wide-eyed, watching the chaos unfold.
Dustin stopped for a moment, surveying the mess he'd made before glancing back at Dove. "Grab the Demodog," he said, his voice serious. "It should fit now."
Dove blinked, incredulous. "What?!"
"It's for science!" Dustin shot back, as if that explained everything.
Steve, who had been standing nearby with his hands on his hips, let out a heavy sigh. "This is ridiculous," he muttered before grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. He approached the dead Demodog with a look of pure disdain, carefully wrapping the creature in the blanket. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes, it is, okay?" Dustin insisted, his voice rising with urgency. "This is a ground-breaking scientific discovery. We can't just bury it like some common animal. It's not a dog!"
"All right, all right." Steve shook his head, half-amused and half-annoyed, as he struggled to hoist the blanket-wrapped Demodog toward the freezer."A little help? Get the door," he said, grunting as he maneuvered the creature.
Dove hesitated but eventually surged forward, yanking the freezer door open with a bit more force than necessary. Steve crammed the Demodog inside, pushing until it barely fit. When the freezer door finally slammed shut, they both stood there, breathing heavily, the absurdity of the moment hanging in the air.
It was then that Dove noticed a streak of slimy residue trailing down the sleeve of Steve's jacket. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You've got slime on you," she said, pointing at his arm.
Steve looked down, equally horrified. "Ugh, great."
Without saying another word, Dove grabbed a washcloth from the counter, wetting it under the kitchen sink. She handed it to him, their fingers brushing for a moment as Steve took the cloth. Dove quickly pulled away, turning back toward the living room, her mind racing as much from the moment as from the tension of everything happening around them.
Behind her, Steve cleaned his jacket with a grimace, muttering under his breath, "I swear, I didn't sign up for this."
In the living room, shards of glass scattered across the floor caught the fading light from outside as Lucas and Max swept the remnants into a small pile. The tension in the room was palpable, the silence only broken by the soft scrape of the broom against the floor and the sound of Mike's pacing footsteps.
"Will you quit it already?" Lucas muttered, glancing up at Mike, who hadn't stopped moving since they'd come inside. His frustration was clear, but Mike barely acknowledged him, his eyes focused somewhere distant.
"You don't get it," Mike snapped, his voice sharper than intended. "You weren't in the lab. That place is crawling with Demodogs. They're everywhere."
Lucas straightened, setting the broom against the wall. "Hopper's there. He'll protect her, Mike." His tone was firm but reassuring.
Max, who had been sweeping quietly beside Lucas, muttered under her breath, "Like she needs protection."
Mike stopped pacing for a moment, casting a quick glance at Max. His face softened slightly, but the worry in his eyes remained.
Just then, Steve walked into the room, the washcloth slung casually over his shoulder. His expression shifted as he glanced around, sensing the unease in the room. "Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?"
"First of all, this isn't some stupid sports game," Mike shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "And second, we're not even in the game. We're on the bench."
Steve frowned, pausing for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Right... So my point is," he said, trying to channel some semblance of authority, "we're on the bench, which means there's nothing we can do."
"That's not entirely true," Dustin interjected, stepping forward. "I mean, these Demodogs—they've got a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away."
Max's eyes lit up, the idea sparking excitement in her voice. "So, if we get their attention, maybe we can draw them away from the lab."
Dove considered the possibility, her mind racing, but before she could voice her thoughts, Steve immediately shut it down. "Yeah, and then we all die," he said, his tone flat, as if it were the only logical conclusion.
"That's one point of view," Dustin argued.
Steve turned to him, hands on his hips. "No, that's not a point of view, man. That's a fact."
Mike suddenly rushed past Steve, his eyes wide with determination as he pointed at one of the drawings taped to the wall. "This is where the Chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel." He hurried over to another drawing on the floor. "And this—this is like the hub. See how all the tunnels feed into here? If we set this on fire—"
"That's a no," Steve cut him off, but the kids continued to ignore him.
"The Mind Flayer would call away his army," Lucas chimed in.
"They'd all come to stop us," Dustin added, the pieces falling into place.
"Then we circle back to the exit," Mike said, the excitement building. "By the time they realize we're gone, El would already be at the gate."
"Hey! Hey!" Steve clapped loudly to get their attention, his voice rising with frustration. "This is not happening."
The kids started to protest, but Steve cut them off, his voice firm and unwavering. "No, no, no. I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."
Dustin turned to Dove, his eyes wide with hope. "Dove, please. This may be our only chance."
Dove's heart pounded as everyone's eyes shifted to her. Dustin's words hung in the air, and she could feel the weight of their trust pressing down on her. She wanted to believe there was a way to help—to be proactive instead of waiting—but the risks were too great. She glanced at Steve, then at her brother, her mind torn between what she thought was right and what was safe.
Her throat tightened. "I'm sorry, Dustin," she said softly. "The best way to keep you all safe is to hang tight. We're staying here."
Dustin's face fell, but Dove knew it was the only choice that would protect him.
Steve spoke up again, his voice firmer this time. "We are waiting on the bench for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?"
Mike scowled, his frustration boiling over. "This isn't some stupid sports game!"
"Does everybody understand that?" Steve shot back, his eyes sweeping the room. "I need a yes."
Just as the tension reached a breaking point, the distant rumble of an engine cut through the silence, its sound growing louder as it neared. Everyone froze, their focus shifting to the noise outside. Dove and Max exchanged a glance before walking over to the window, a sense of dread tightening in Dove's chest.
When Dove looked out, her heart dropped. Parked outside, gleaming in the fading light, was Billy's car.
A cold wave of fear washed over her, freezing her in place. Her body tensed, memories of the parking lot flooding back in an instant. She felt like she couldn't breathe, her pulse racing as her mind struggled to process the sight of him—here, now. Her fingers gripped the edge of the window frame as Max leaned closer, her eyes narrowing.
Dove's thoughts whirled. She had just made the decision to stay—to keep them safe. But Billy's presence was a threat she hadn't prepared for, a danger she couldn't control. Her heart hammered in her chest, the weight of the decision still hanging over her, but now layered with a personal fear she could barely suppress.
"Dove, what do we do?" Max's voice was a whisper, tinged with anxiety.
Dove's mind raced, her thoughts spiraling as she tried to pull herself together. She couldn't let Billy derail everything. She couldn't let her fear take control. She had to stay strong for the others.
She took a breath, steeling herself. "Stay back from the windows," she said quietly, her voice steadier than she felt inside.
The group tensed, waiting for what would come next.