The air in Eddie's living room was suffocating, heavy with unspoken fears and frustration. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the cluttered space, the flicker of a single lamp barely illuminating the tension that gripped the group. Eddie paced frantically, his movements sharp and erratic, his hands tugging at his already disheveled hair.
Bahamutt, now attuned to Eddie's emotions, padded quietly to his side. The dog pressed against Eddie's legs, grounding him in the way only he could. Eddie reached down, his fingers tangling briefly in Bahamutt's fur, a fleeting moment of calm in the storm of his thoughts.
"We're sitting here—talking—and meanwhile, Ursula's out there. Alone. In that freak's clutches," Eddie snapped, his voice raw and rising. His words cracked like a whip, cutting through the stillness. "You don't understand what he'll do to her!"
Dustin, seated cross-legged on the floor beside Max, raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Eddie, we do understand," he said, his tone measured, almost pleading. "That's why we're trying to think this through."
Max, ever the voice of blunt reason, leaned back against the couch with a dry expression. "Yeah, no offense, but flying off into a hellscape with no plan isn't exactly a winning strategy."
Eddie stopped mid-stride, turning on her with a glare. His voice rose, filled with frustration and fear. "And what? Sitting on our asses is? She's—she's probably…"
His words faltered, caught in his throat as the weight of his own fears crushed him. His grip tightened on the back of a nearby chair, knuckles whitening as he steadied himself.
Nancy leaned forward from her perch on the edge of a chair, her notebook balanced on her lap. Her voice was firm, cutting through the chaos like a knife. "Eddie, listen to me. She told me to tell you to wait. She knew the risks. She wouldn't want us running in half-cocked."
Eddie whipped around, his eyes blazing as he shot back, "Yeah, well, maybe I don't care what she wants! Maybe I care more about not leaving her to die in there!"
The room fell silent for a beat, the rawness of Eddie's pain hanging in the air like a palpable force.
Dustin pushed himself to his feet, stepping into Eddie's line of sight. His tone was sharp, his usual warmth replaced by a rare edge. "Hey! We're all worried about her. She's one of us now, okay? But we don't do this the stupid way. We do it smart. Like she would."
Steve, perched on the arm of the couch with his arms crossed, raised a hand in an attempt to redirect the spiraling conversation. "Alright, first things first—we can't stay here. My parents' place is empty for, like, the next four months. It's bigger, and no one's looking for us there."
Robin, leaning casually against the wall, quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "Wow, Harrington. Way to sacrifice your rich-kid mansion for the cause."
Steve rolled his eyes, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, well, you're welcome."
Lucas, standing by the window and peeking out through a gap in the curtains, nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. This place is a target."
Eddie let out a shaky breath, his fingers loosening from the chair as Bahamutt leaned harder into him. The group's collective resolve began to solidify, the chaos of emotions giving way to a tentative but growing sense of purpose.
The room was stifling, the tension thick enough to choke on. Erica leaned back in her chair, her arms folded and her expression sharp.
"We really need Eleven," she said flatly, her voice slicing through the uneasy silence.
The group sighed collectively, the weight of her statement pressing heavier on them all.
Steve, perched on the arm of the couch, gestured toward the phone sitting on the wall. His voice cracked with urgency. "Try 'em again. Try 'em again."
Max let out an annoyed huff, rising from her seat with a sharp movement. Her strides were short and clipped as she reached the phone. She grabbed the receiver and began punching in Will's number with deliberate force.
The room stilled, the quiet punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the keypad.
Unseen by her friends, Eleven drifted silently through her dream-walking void. Her bare feet made no sound against the infinite black expanse, her breathing controlled but labored. The void shimmered and twisted around her, distorting into a fractured reflection of Eddie's living room. She watched them intently, her focus unwavering. Each movement, each word spoken by her friends reached her in disjointed echoes, like sound traveling through water.
Max held the receiver to her ear as the phone began to ring. The group leaned closer, anticipation drawing them all into a tense stillness.
Then came the sound they dreaded: the monotonous drone of a busy signal.
"Damn it," Max muttered as she slammed the phone back onto the cradle, her frustration bubbling over.
Eleven moved closer in the void, tilting her head as she tried to hear Dustin's voice more clearly.
"Anything?" Dustin asked, frowning from his spot on the floor.
Max spun toward him, her glare sharp as she barked, "No. Rang a few times, then went to a busy signal."
Steve pushed himself off the arm of the couch, his arms crossing as he frowned. "Maybe you punched it wrong. Try again."
Max turned back to the phone, shooting him an irritated look over her shoulder. "I didn't punch it in wrong."
Steve raised his hands defensively. "Well, I don't know—"
"I think she knows how to use a phone," Dustin cut in, his tone laced with annoyance.
Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, she could've typed it in wrong."
Max huffed but turned back to the phone. Her fingers stabbed at the keypad as she redialed.
In the void, Eleven mirrored Max's movements, her head tilting slightly as she stared at the spectral image of the phone.
Again, the same sequence of sounds: ringing, followed by the maddening busy tone.
"Same shit," Max snapped, slamming the receiver down with even more force.
Eleven's gaze shifted toward Lucas, who straightened from his spot near the window.
"How is that possible?" Lucas asked, his voice cutting through the rising frustration. His words rippled faintly in Eleven's mind, as though the void was distorting them.
Dustin scratched the back of his neck, his mind working through the problem. "Joyce has this telemarketer job. She's always on the phone. Mike won't stop whining about it."
Max shook her head firmly, her tone sharp. "Yeah, but this phone's been busy for, what, three days now? That's not Joyce. No way. Something's wrong."
Eleven took another step forward, her brow furrowing as she absorbed Max's words.
Nancy stood suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor. She crossed to the window, her movements deliberate. "She's right. It can't be just coincidence. It can't be."
Eleven followed Nancy's movements in the void, watching her pace toward the window. The distorted light cast an eerie glow against the backdrop of the void, making Nancy's reflection shimmer.
Nancy stared out at the darkening sky, her expression resolute. "Whatever's happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I'm sure of it. But Vecna can't hurt them or Ursula. Not if he's dead." Her voice hardened, her determination cutting through the thick tension. "We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down."
Robin leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she glanced at Nancy. "We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One. Sorry, what are we calling him now?"
"One," Dustin muttered.
"Vecna," Erica corrected.
"Henry," Max added darkly.
Robin pushed herself off the wall, gesturing animatedly with one hand as her words spilled out. "Right. So, we've learned something new about Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One. He's a number like Eleven and Ursula—only, you know, a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of them. With really bad skin." Her voice was tinged with humor, but her eyes betrayed her unease. "But my point is, he's super powerful. Could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It's not a fair fight."
Dustin straightened, his notebook clutched tightly. "Then why fight fair?" His tone was steady, his determination unshakable. "You're right—he's like Eleven and Ursula. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Ursula and Eleven's strengths. And their weaknesses."
At that, Eddie stiffened from his spot by the window. He spun to face Dustin, his voice low and biting. "Weaknesses?"
Dustin glanced up at him, undeterred by the sharpness in Eddie's voice. "When El remote-travels, she goes into this trance-like state. You've seen it—eyes blank, completely out of it. The same thing happened when Ursula saved Max. I'd bet my last set of batteries that it's the same with Vecna."
At the mention of Ursula, Eleven's presence flickered in the void. Her feet were silent as she stepped closer to the distorted vision of her friends, her head tilting slightly. This girl with the blue hair… Her thoughts surged forward, vivid and clear. She's like me?
Nancy's voice cut through the room like a razor, her tone precise and certain. "That would explain what he was doing in that attic."
"Exactly!" Dustin exclaimed, tapping the edge of his notebook with his pen. His enthusiasm surged as the pieces clicked into place. "When he attacks his next victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic. Physical body? Completely defenseless."
Robin raised her hand, her expression skeptical. "Defenseless? What about the army of bats?"
"True." Dustin frowned, scratching at the back of his head. "We'll have to find a way past them."
The room stilled as his gaze locked onto Eddie, his expression pointed, eyebrows raised meaningfully.
Eddie's lips twitched into a grimace, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
Dustin turned to Eddie, his expression serious as he raised his eyebrows meaningfully. The tension in the room thickened, all eyes shifting toward Eddie.
Eddie let out a soft groan, running a hand through his wild hair. "You know if I do it, Ursula's gonna kill me." His lips twitched into a reluctant grin, but the weight behind his words was undeniable.
Dustin's grin widened, leaning forward slightly. "Most metal ever?"
Eddie's grin sharpened, a mischievous light sparking in his eyes. "I'm in." He straightened, crossing his arms over his chest as he added, "Because once those things are gone, Vecna doesn't stand a chance. It'll be like slaying Dracula in his coffin." His voice turned steely. "And I know what's coming. It won't be like last time."
Nancy's voice cut through the moment, bringing a practical edge to the conversation. "That all sounds good in theory," she said, tapping her notebook against her knee, "but now we know the pattern. We know who he's going to attack next."
The room fell silent, the realization dawning on all of them at once.
Max broke it with a single, steady declaration. "Yeah, we do," she said, her voice calm but resolute. Her gaze swept across the room, finally landing on Lucas. "It's me. I'm still marked. Cursed. And since he's got Ursula now, it's only a matter of time before he comes for me."
"Max, no," Lucas said immediately, stepping closer to her. His voice was firm, but a tremor of fear crept into it. "You can't. He'll kill you."
Max met his gaze evenly, her expression unyielding. "I survived before," she said, her tone unshakable. "I can survive again. I just need to keep him busy long enough so you guys can get into that attic." She glanced toward Eddie, then Dustin, her voice steady and deliberate.
"Then you can chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up. I honestly don't care how you put this asshole in his grave. Just... whatever it is... whatever you do..." Her voice softened, and her jaw tightened as she added, "Try not to miss."
The room filled with a tense silence, each person grappling with the weight of her words.
In the void, Eleven stood frozen, her feet planted on the swirling, featureless ground as she watched her friends. The mention of Ursula sent a ripple through her thoughts. This girl with the blue hair... The words echoed in her mind, tugging at something just out of reach.
She stepped closer, her gaze locked on Max's determined expression, and for the first time in days, a flicker of understanding began to settle in Eleven's chest.
Back in the living room, Max crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw set in defiance. The group exchanged uncertain glances, their unspoken fears hanging heavily in the room.
Nancy leaned forward, breaking the silence. "If we're doing this, we need to start planning. Every detail."
Steve nodded. "No screw-ups this time. If we're going to pull this off, it's gotta be perfect."
Robin let out a soft, nervous laugh. "Perfect. No pressure or anything."
The group's determination solidified as the plan began to take shape. Eleven, still unseen in the void, took one final step forward. The fierce resolve she saw in Max's expression mirrored the quiet determination beginning to stir in herself.