As the group began gathering themselves to leave, the weight of everything they'd just learned still hung in the air.
Letters lay scattered on the table, some still unopened. Ursula adjusted her jacket, her hands steady but her gaze distant.
"Alright," Dustin said, suddenly breaking the silence. He hesitated, his fingers twitching nervously as he clutched hisletter.
"Future Girl."
Ursula turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
"What?"
"If you're so prepared…" Dustin tilted his head, his tone hovering somewhere between suspicion and genuine curiosity.
"Is there a letter in there from, uh… grown-up Eddie?"
The teasing tone landed, but Ursula's faint smirk faded quickly. Her expression softened, growing serious.
"No," she said quietly.
The room stilled. Even Steve, who had been leaning against the wall with his usual nonchalance, straightened.
Dustin frowned.
"Why not?"
Ursula inhaled deeply, her eyes flickering toward the letters before settling on Dustin.
"Because Max isn't the only person I came back to save," she admitted, her voice carrying a weight that silenced the room.
"Eddie didn't make it."
Dustin froze, his breath catching. The rest of the group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke.
Ursula continued, her tone steady but laced with vulnerability.
"You always told me about Eddie like he was a legend. How he stood his ground, bought you time, and died protecting his friends." She looked down, her lips twitching faintly in an almost-smile.
"You told me about the bats. The Metallica solo. The most heavy metal moment of all time."
Dustin's jaw tightened, his expression torn between disbelief and an unspoken pride.
Ursula chuckled softly, the sound more wistful than amused.
"And now I'm supposed to meet him. The guy you said was pure magic. The original Dungeon Master." She exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly.
"And what if I screw it up? What if I try to play it cool and just… bomb? What if I sound like a complete idiot?"
Dustin blinked, startled by the sudden shift in her tone.
"You're nervous?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.
"You?"
"Of course I'm nervous," Ursula muttered, running a hand through her hair. She glanced at him, her eyes wide with something almost childlike.
"He's the family hero, Dad. You've seen him in action—I haven't."
Steve, who had been quietly watching the exchange, couldn't help himself.
"Eddie Munson?" he said with a grin, stepping forward.
"I wouldn't stress. The guy was a total weirdo—you'll probably fit right in."
Ursula froze mid-breath, her gaze snapping to Steve. Her expression sharpened instantly, unimpressed and cold.
"Whoa," she said, her tone cutting.
"Hey, that's not fair. You guys did some serious battling together over there. That's your fucking brother in arms, Steve. He fucking died to keep you safe. Do better."
The grin slid off Steve's face as though wiped away. He blinked, stunned by the unexpected intensity of her words.
The group shifted uncomfortably, the silence stretching as her statement hung in the air.
Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again, nodding slightly.
"Alright," he said softly.
"Got it."
Realizing her own harshness, Ursula grimaced.
"Shit. Sorry, Steve. That was… harsh. I forgot. You barely even know each other yet."
Steve gave her a small smile, the tension easing.
"You're good, Henderson."
The moment passed, but the impression she left didn't. This girl had a code of honor. Dustin, ever the deflector,
stepped forward to lighten the mood, shifting into what Ursula privately called "Dad Mode."
"Look," he said, his voice softening as he gestured toward her.
"Eddie's a character, yeah, but he's just a guy. He's not gonna care if you 'play it cool' or not. Trust me."
Ursula folded her arms, her skepticism evident.
"You say that, but he's like, the OG DM. That's not exactly 'just a guy.'"
Dustin smirked, nudging her shoulder lightly.
"You're overthinking it. Eddie's gonna love you."
"Yeah?" Ursula shot back, her tone tinged with mock sarcasm. "You sure about that?"
Dustin grinned, his words slipping out without a second thought.
"You're EXACTLY his type."
The words hung in the air for a split second, the implication dawning on everyone at the same time. Dustin's eyes widened in horror.
Steve's laugh erupted first, loud and uncontrollable.
"Oh my God—she IS exactly his type!"
"NO!" Dustin nearly shouted, waving his hands in frantic denial.
"No, no, no—don't say that! Don't even think that!"
Steve doubled over, nearly falling to his knees with laughter. Robin snorted, trying and failing to keep a straight face.
Even Lucas cracked a small, amused smile.
Ursula stood there, watching the chaos with a deadpan expression, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
"I can't believe I'm related to you," she muttered, her tone perfectly dry.
As the group followed Ursula outside, the night air cooled their lingering laughter. She led them to the driveway with a sly grin, her turquoise hair catching the porch light like a beacon.
"Alright," Ursula called over her shoulder, voice measured, "I can fit four or five more inside. It might help sell the whole 'future' thing."
The black Chevy K10 sat in the driveway like a predator at rest. Its matte-black paint seemed to drink in the light, while the pirate flag flapped gently atop the antenna. The ram's skull on the grille grinned like it had already won whatever fight lay ahead, its glitter catching the faintest glow from the porch bulb. Massive off-road tires made the truck look like it could climb mountains—or crush one in its path.
"Hoooooly shit," Lucas breathed, his voice tinged with awe.
The truck dominated the space, towering and unapologetically imposing. Its matte black paint seemed to drink in the dim light, leaving only faint reflections of the glowing porch behind them. A plastic ram's skull grinned from the front grille like a macabre trophy. A pirate flag snapped defiantly in the light breeze, fixed to the antenna. The rear bumper was a chaotic mosaic of scratched and faded metal band stickers, proclaiming loyalty to Metallica, Slayer, Judas Priest, GWAR and a dozen others.
Max let out a low whistle.
"That thing looks like it eats other trucks for breakfast."
Ursula's grin widened in mischief.
"Oh, she's hungry, alright." She reached into her jacket pocket, her fingers curling around her keys.
Before Robin could respond, Ursula pressed a button on the fob. The truck roared to life with a deep, feral growl, like some monstrous beast roused from its hellish slumber.
The group collectively jumped back, their wide eyes snapping to the truck.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Steve yelled, stumbling into Robin.
Robin grabbed Steve's arm for balance, her face pale.
"Did you just summon it?"
Ursula let out a mischievous cackle, her eyes glinting with delight as she leaned against the door with a theatrical shrug.
"Re-laaaax! It's just a car… FROM THE FUTURE!!!."
"Just a car?!" Dustin snapped, his voice cracking as he pointed at the truck like it might attack.
"It's possessed! That's not normal!"
"Neither are you," Ursula quipped, still laughing.
"You've got nothing to worry about, Dad."
Steve stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"How did you DO that?!"
"Auto-start," Ursula replied, her tone dripping with mock innocence.
"Primitive, I know. Welcome to the late 2000s, my dudes."
The group stared at her, half-horrified and half-impressed. Robin was the first to crack, letting out a nervous laugh.
"Okay, I'll admit… that's kind of cool."
"It's like a monster truck had a baby with a metal concert," Lucas added, his grin widening.
Dustin didn't laugh. He wasn't gawking like the others. His brow furrowed as he stepped forward, walking a slow circle around the truck. His fingers brushed over the rough edges of the scratched stickers and the heavy steel of the tailgate. He was muttering under his breath, his gaze sharp and searching.
"No way… no freaking way," he murmured. His hand paused on the corner of a Slayer sticker, tracing the edge where the print had worn thin.
He crouched by the front grille, eyes narrowing as he reached beneath the ram's skull. His fingers brushed something carved into the metal.
A sharp intake of breath.
"D.H.," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I did this."
The group turned to him, confusion clear on their faces.
"What are you talking about?" Max asked, crossing her arms as she leaned closer.
Dustin straightened slowly, his face pale but his voice gaining strength. He pointed to the initials.
"Those are mine. I carved those."
The air seemed to grow still as his gaze locked onto Ursula, his mind whirring.
"This is my Father's truck," he said, the realization dawning as the pieces fell into place.
Ursula froze, her expression carefully guarded.
"Yup. Grandy said it was his prized possession. We rebuilt it from the ground up together. Drove Mom crazy. We did some pretty cool stuff to it too…," she trailed off.
Dustin looks at Ursula carefully, squinting. He murmurs her name a few times, "Ursula… Ursula… trying to remember why the name had sounded familiar. And then like a blast, it comes to him. The book Susie sent him to read. She talked about it all summer… A Wizard of Earthsea. Susie's favorite book. Written by Ursula Le Guin…
"Is Susie your mom?" Dustin asked, his voice unsteady as he stared at her with wide eyes.
For a moment, Ursula hesitated. Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she met his gaze with a faint, almost shy smile. "Bingo, Daddy-O," she admitted softly.
"Pretty smart, Dad… Susie IS my Mom. Her voice faltered, then grew steady. "I really, really wish she was here already."
The quiet stretched uncomfortably long as Dustin stared at her, his jaw tight and his eyes glassy. His gaze flicked from her face to the truck, to the initials under the grille.
"Susie…" he whispered, the word falling from his lips like a prayer.
Steve, sensing the emotional weight, broke the silence with a smirk and a clap to Dustin's shoulder.
"Congrats, man," Steve said, grinning ear to ear.
"Didn't peg you as a dad this early, but hey—life's full of surprises."
Dustin whipped around, his face crimson.
"Shut up, Steve!"
The group cracked up as Dustin flailed, glaring at Steve while Ursula tried—and failed—not to laugh.
"This is so messed up," Dustin muttered, running a hand through his hair as he shot another bewildered glance at Ursula.
Ursula stepped closer, her grin softening.
"I know, right?" she said quietly.
Dustin sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he leaned against the truck.
"So… what's next?"
The group turned toward Ursula, their expressions ranging from curiosity to quiet determination.
"Next?" Ursula repeated, tilting her head. A small, mischievous smile curved her lips as she crossed her arms and started pacing like a Military General.
"Well, First, we secure Eddie," Ursula said, her tone brisk.
"Then we gotta boogie. Relocate to base, lock down Max, cut off the mob, save McKinney, regroup with reinforcements, and neutralize Vecna. Move fast, stay alive. Fuckin' hoo rah!"
The group exchanged glances, a renewed tension settling over them.
Robin cleared her throat, cutting through the quiet.
"Well, that's… subtle."
"Not a lot of time for subtle," Ursula quipped, already moving toward the driver's seat.
"Everyone in. We've got a lot of ground to cover."
The group hesitated for only a moment before climbing in, their laughter fading into a focused silence.
The fight wasn't just beginning—it was already well underway.
"Alright, all aboard," she said, glancing at the group with a mischievous smirk.
"Seats are limited, so double up where you have to."
Dustin immediately slid into the passenger seat, still muttering under his breath about the truck's remote start.
Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Lucas followed, squishing into the back seat. Lucas made room for Max to perch on his lap, her quiet demeanor making the group instinctively accommodate her.
Robin ran her hand over the seat with exaggerated reverence.
"Leather interior. Seriously? Future cars are fancy."
Ursula snorted, turning the key to bring the truck fully to life. The deep growl of the engine reverberated through the cabin, causing Robin to let out a dramatic "Whoa!"
"You don't know the half of it," Ursula said with a smirk, shifting into reverse as they backed out of the driveway.
Dustin shifted in the passenger seat, still eyeing the ram's skull on the grille through the side mirror. Its glitter caught the glow of a nearby streetlight, shimmering as they pulled onto the road.
"Of course MY future kid drives a truck like this," he muttered, half to himself.
Ursula glanced at him in the rearview mirror, smirking faintly.
"What can I say? I learned from the best."
The truck rolled through the quiet streets of Hawkins, its rumbling engine an almost soothing counterpoint to the uneasy tension building in the group.
Ursula flicked a glance at Dustin.
"Wanna hear some music? We've got every song ever recorded at our fingertips."
"Wait, what?" Robin leaned forward, peering over Dustin's shoulder. Ursula grinned, pulling her phone from the magnetic holder on the dashboard.
"Welcome to Spotify. Mom figured out how to put a snapshot of the whole library on my phone, since theres no WiFi, and I'd basically die without my music collection. Name a band. Any band."
"Any band?" Dustin asked, incredulous.
The backseat erupted into chaos as everyone started shouting over each other.
"Journey!" Steve hollered, leaning forward like his life depended on it.
"Eww no, Blondie!" Robin countered, crossing her arms like it was the obvious choice.
"Madonna," Nancy added, her voice firm, refusing to be drowned out.
"Run-D.M.C.!" Lucas chimed in, his tone full of confidence.
Max rolled her eyes, deadpan as ever. "Kate Bush. Obviously."
Dustin hesitated for only a moment before declaring,
"How about Creeping Death. Metallica."
Ursula laughed, delighted.
"Okay, shut up! Dad wins." Her fingers swiped across the screen with practiced ease.
Moments later, the opening riffs of the heavy metal anthem blasted through the truck's sound system.
Steve groaned from the back seat.
"Metallica? Really? This is the vibe we're going with?"
"It's the vibe your LIFE is gonna go with if you disrespect Metallica in this vehicle, sir. Creeping fucking Death."
Dustin ignored him, his grin widening as the music swelled. He glanced at Ursula, the unmistakable glimmer of pride in his eyes.
"You've got good taste," he admitted grudgingly.
"Runs in the family, Daddy-O," she replied, her tone light but sincere.
The rest of the ride passed in a surreal mix of heavy riffs and quiet awe as the group processed their situation.
The truck slowed to a stop a short distance from Reefer Rick's house. The street light was faint, barely illuminating the outline of the structure.
Ursula killed the engine and turned in her seat, her expression serious now.
"Alright. Here's the deal. Dad—uh, you," she said, nodding at Dustin, "said Eddie freaked out pretty bad when you guys showed up. Let's not make it worse."
Dustin frowned.
"Wait, why would he freak out? We're not the bad guys here."
"Sure," Ursula replied dryly,"but imagine you're Eddie. It's the middle of the night, you're hiding out at your dealer's place, and a bunch of people show up unannounced. Not knowing why that's an issue, well that's a 'you' problem, Dad."
Robin stifled a laugh. Dustin sighed heavily. "Fine," he muttered.
"So what's the plan?"
"You, Dustin, and Max and Robin go first," Ursula said firmly. "That's how it worked the first time, so we're sticking to that.
"Calm him down. Let him know it's safe. Me and Nance and Lucas will wait for the signal."
Robin raised an eyebrow.
"And the signal?"
Ursula grinned faintly.
"Easy. Just have someone step out on the porch and wave us in. What, did you think I'd need a signal flare? No need to get fancy."
The group exchanged glances, and Dustin nodded reluctantly.
"Alright. Let's do this."
As they opened their doors and climbed out, Ursula lingered in the driver's seat for a moment, gripping the wheel tightly.
"Think he'll come with us?" Dustin asked from outside, leaning against the door.
Ursula sighed, her voice soft but steady.
"He's not going to believe it's safe without seeing it for himself. Not after what happened at the trailer park. I just… What time is the local news on?"
"8 o'clock," Nancy replied.
Ursula looked down at her watch, "Uggh, I wish I could pull up the news for him on my Iphone."
Steve, still close enough to hear, frowned.
"On your what?"
Ursula glanced at him, shaking her head with a rueful smile.
"Never mind. 1980s. So primitive."
Robin caught her tone and leaned closer, her curiosity piqued.
"Wait. What else does that… Iphone… thing do?"
Ursula smirked, holding it up like a prize.
"Oh, a lot more than you'd believe."
The group shared uneasy smiles as they made their way to Reefer Rick's porch, ready to face the next part of their chaotic mission. Ursula sat back in the truck, her fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.
"Here we go," she murmured to herself, the faintest tremor of anticipation in her voice.
The group approached Reefer Rick's house cautiously, their shadows stretching long in the dim light of the moon.
The air was thick with unease as Dustin led the way, his eyes scanning the overgrown yard for any sign of life.
"I guess he's not here, I guess Ursula was wrong," Robin muttered, frowning at the dilapidated cabin.
"Eddie!" Dustin called, his voice carrying through the night.
"It's Dustin! Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear!"
"Rick!" Steve added, louder than necessary.
"Don't scream that!" Robin snapped, elbowing him
"Reefer Rick!" Steve insisted, though he quieted slightly.
Robin groaned. "He's not there."
Dustin ignored them and pressed forward, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Eddie! We just wanna help!"
"Maybe he's just… really high," Max suggested dryly, kicking at a loose piece of gravel.
"Hey, is that a foot?" Lucas asked suddenly, pointing toward the porch.
Max squinted.
"No, that's a shoe."
"Guys? Hello?" Steve's voice dropped as he pushed open the creaky front door.
"What a dump," he muttered, stepping inside cautiously.
Robin trailed after him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"What are you doing?"
Steve gave her a look.
"He might be in here."
"Then take the tarp off, Sherlock," she challenged, gesturing to a pile of junk in the corner.
Steve hesitated, glancing at her. Picking up a boat oar.
"If you're so brave, why don't you take the tarp off?"
Dustin wasn't paying attention to their bickering. His sharp eyes caught something on the floor.
"Hey, look over here," he said, kneeling to pick up a discarded wrapper.
The group gathered around him, peering at the evidence.
"Someone was here," Max observed, her voice low.
"Maybe he heard us, got spooked, and ran," Lucas suggested, glancing nervously at the dark corners of the room.
Robin smirked.
"Don't worry. Steve's got his trusty oar. He'll get him."
Steve scowled, gripping the oar a little tighter.
"I know you think you're being funny, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, I personally don't find it funny in the sligh—"
"Whoa, wait!" Dustin yelled, cutting him off.
"Eddie! Eddie, stop!"
In an instant, chaos erupted as a disheveled figure burst from the shadows, brandishing a broken chair leg.
"Who the hell are you people?!" Eddie Munson shouted, his wild eyes darting between them.
"Relax, Eddie!" Steve said, raising his hands in surrender.
"We're not here to kill you, we're here to save you!"
Dustin stepped forward, his hands open and nonthreatening.
"This is Steve. He's not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?"
"Eddie, it's me. Dustin." He gestured behind him.
Steve forced a strained smile.
"Right. Totally cool."
"Cool," Eddie repeated skeptically, the chair leg still raised.
Robin held her hands up next, offering a small, disarming grin.
"Eddie, you remember me, right? Robin, from band?"
Eddie hesitated, his grip loosening slightly on his makeshift weapon.
Max chimed in, standing just behind Robin.
"And I'm Max. You know, the one who never plays D ."
Eddie's eyes flicked between them, his expression a mix of fear and confusion.
"We're on your side," Dustin said firmly, stepping closer.
"I swear on my mother."
Steve, Robin, and Max all nodded fervently.
"On Dustin's mother," Steve added quickly, his tone serious.
Eddie's shoulders sagged slightly as the tension began to ebb from the room. His voice wavered as he asked, "You just wanna talk? That's it?"
"That's it," Dustin reassured him.
"We want to know what happened. You're not crazy, Eddie. Whatever you saw? We've seen it too."
For a moment, Eddie just stared at them, his breathing uneven. Finally, he lowered the chair leg.
"Her body…" he began, his voice shaky.
"It just… lifted into the air. And then her bones started snapping. Her eyes… it was like something was inside her, pulling." He swallowed hard, his eyes distant.
"I didn't know what to do. I ran."
"You're not crazy," Robin said softly, stepping closer.
Eddie shook his head violently.
"Don't bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!"
"We're not bullshitting you," Steve said firmly.
Eddie looked at them, his expression torn between hope and disbelief.
Dustin took a deep breath.
"What I'm about to tell you might be hard to believe. You know how people say Hawkins is cursed? They're not wrong."
The group exchanged glances, their seriousness drawing Eddie in further.
"There's another world," Dustin explained.
"A world hidden beneath Hawkins. It bleeds into ours. And what you saw, what happened to Chrissy—it's from that world."
Eddie's face twisted, skepticism battling with desperation.
"You're telling me ghosts did this?"
Steve shook his head grimly.
"Worse than ghosts."
Eddie's breath hitched, and he ran a trembling hand through his hair.
"I—I tried to wake her up, man. But it was like she was under a spell. A curse."
"Vecna's curse," Dustin said quietly.
"Vecna?" Eddie repeated, the name venom on his tongue.
"A dark wizard," Dustin said gravely, meeting Eddie's eyes.
Eddie took a step back, his legs shaking as he leaned against the wall for support.
Robin glanced toward the door and opened it, stepping out onto the porch to wave the rest of the group in.
"So, what?" he said, his voice shaky.
"You guys here to bust me out or something? Newsflash—I'm public enemy number one. What's your plan, huh? Gonna carry me out in a suitcase?"
Robin raised an eyebrow and stepped toward the door.
"Not exactly," she said with a grin. Turning back, she leaned out onto the porch and waved toward the truck.
"But we did bring reinforcements."
"Eddie, listen. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and, uh, they're definitely looking for you."
His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was an urgency behind his words.
Robin, standing by the window and keeping an eye out for the others, glanced back at Eddie, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and dry humor.
"Also, they're pretty convinced you killed Chrissy. Like, 100% kind of convinced."
Eddie flinched at the mention of Chrissy's name, his grip tightening on the chair leg.
Dustin pressed on, as if he hadn't noticed.
"But if we found you, it's just a matter of time before others do."
Steve nodded, stepping slightly closer but keeping his hands visible. And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.
Eddie's grip tightened on the chair leg.
"Hunt the freak, right?"
Steve sighed. "Exactly."
"Fuck." Eddie muttered under his breath, pacing nervously.
"So," Dustin pressed on, his voice steady.
"Before that happens, we move you to somewhere safe, and prove your innocence."
Eddie blinked at him, incredulous.
"That's all, Dustin? That's all?"
Dustin shrugged awkwardly.
"Yeah, no, that's pretty much it."
Robin stepped in, noticing Ursula, Nancy, and Lucas approaching outside.
"Listen, Eddie, I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally bonkers, but we've actually been through this before. I mean, they have a few times, and I have once."
She gestured toward the group as she continued.
"Mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke monster-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this."
Steve chimed in, his tone light but reassuring.
"We usually rely on this girl who has superpowers."
"But," Robin cut in, with a dry smile,
"those went bye-bye, so..."
Dustin leaned forward, his voice carrying a hint of pride.
"But now we have a time traveler with sci-fi gear... and..."
The cabin door creaked open slowly, and Ursula stepped inside. Her movements were measured, deliberate, but her heart was pounding. It was all she could do to keep her face composed. This was Eddie FUCKING Munson, in the flesh. Every story she'd ever heard about him flashed through her mind at once. But none of them had prepared her for this moment.
This was bullshit. Why the fuck hadn't anyone told her Eddie Munson was so goddamn gorgeous? She was supposed to save him, not immediately start wondering if he tasted like cigarettes and sin. Focus, Ursula, focus.
Ursula gulps hard—his dark curls a chaotic halo around his face, his leather jacket slouched over his shoulders. He looked like every teenage girl's rock-and-roll daydream and every suburban parent's worst nightmare. And yet, his wide, frantic eyes gave him a vulnerability that tugged at her chest.
Eddie froze mid-step, his makeshift weapon—chair-leg—held aloft. His jaw dropped slightly as his gaze locked onto Ursula, taking her in with stunned silence. His hand loosened around the handle of the leg, letting it drop with a clatter to the floor.
"Who the hell are YOU?" he breathed, his voice raspy from panic but tinged with genuine confusion.
For a moment, Eddie couldn't process what he was looking at. His brain tripped over itself, landing somewhere between panic and sheer, unfiltered awe.
This wasn't just a girl—this was THE girl. She looked like the fantasy poster on every metalhead's bedroom wall had just come to life: turquoise hair, inked-up arms, that sharp, defiant smirk pulling at lips that could probably kill a man. If he had been asked to build his perfect woman in some kind of lab, she'd still fall short of this.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned under his breath, though it came out more like a prayer than a curse. Oh God, she was looking at him.
Ursula felt the heat rise to her cheeks but forced herself to smirk faintly, giving him a confident tilt of her head.
"Nope not Jesus. Just someone who's here to help unfuck this mess you all made," she said smoothly. Her voice was steady despite the adrenaline racing through her veins.
"And you're Eddie Munson. THE Eddie Munson. I'm honestly tripping out right now."
The words hung in the air for a beat. Eddie blinked, clearly thrown off. He stared at her, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. His gaze flickered over her again—her turquoise hair, the sharp line of her jaw, the easy way she stood despite the chaos around her.
"THE Eddie Munson?'" he echoed, half to himself. His voice was softer now, his panic giving way to a dazed wonder.
"What does that even mean?"
Ursula fought the urge to laugh. She had no time to process how utterly ridiculous and adorable he looked in this moment—like some mix of rock god and lost puppy. But she couldn't let herself get distracted. Focus. There DEFINITELY wasn't anything in her dossier to cover this. Time to shift gears…
"Ho, ho look at the time," she said with a bluster, glancing at her watch with a wicked grin.
"Gather round for the evening news, kiddies. You're gonna wanna see this one."
She turned on her heel, heading for the dusty TV set in the corner of the cabin. The screen was cracked, and the entire thing looked like it had been fished out of a dumpster, but it would do. She crouched to examine it, noting the lack of power.
"Power's off?" she asked without looking up.
"Yup," Eddie replied, crossing his arms but still watching her like she was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.
"That's ok, I got a work around." Ursula pulled a sleek, futuristic device from her bag.
Robin, perched on the arm of the couch, leaned forward.
"What is that?" she asked, wide-eyed.
"Power-bank. It's called being prepared," Ursula said with a grin, tossing Steve a flashlight.
"Hold this."
Steve fumbled with the flashlight as Ursula got to work, connecting the power bank to the TV with practiced ease.
Eddie's gaze stayed glued to her, his suspicion softening into fascination as she moved with calm confidence, the glow of her power bank casting strange shadows across her face.
The TV flickered to life, static crackling across the screen before stabilizing into a grainy image of a news anchor.
The cabin fell silent as everyone gathered around, the tension in the room thickening with each passing second.
Eddie looked at Dustin with a confused expression pointing to Ursula, "What the.."
Dustin just wiggled his eyebrows and said,
"Time-Traveller joins the party."
Before he could respond, the report began, detailing Chrissy Cunningham's death and the subsequent investigation.
Eddie's face drained of color as his name was mentioned.
"I'm screwed," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
"I'm so screwed."
"No, you're not," Ursula said firmly, her voice cutting through the weight in the room. She straightened, standing beside him with a calm steadiness that seemed to anchor him.
"We're getting you out of here. Keep watching."
The news anchor's tone shifted, becoming more serious as she transitioned to breaking news: a second murder near Lover's Lake. Eddie flinched visibly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
Eddie leaned forward, his face pale.
"Th-this can't be happening again," he whispered.
Ursula's jaw tightened as the report continued. Then, the broadcast cut to earlier footage of a scene outside the Hawkins Police Department. Ursula's stomach twisted as her own image appeared on the screen, standing firm amidst a chaotic crowd.
Nancy cranked the volume, leaning forward.
The audio kicked in, and the group heard Ursula's voice ring clear through the shouting: "So, let me get this straight. You don't have any evidence against Eddie Munson, but you're letting a pack of jockstrap-wearing ball bouncers" —she gestured sharply toward Jason and his crowd— "incite a riot while you stand here and play referee? That's your plan?"
"You do realize that's criminal negligence, right? Oh, and also, dereliction of duty, reckless endangerment, and accessory to every single crime committed here tonight too..." She counted off each offense on her fingers, holding the four up sharply in front of the officer's face.
"These boys are actively planning to incite a mob and use force against a person who just went from suspect to witness, in front of all these people—your witnesses. And you? You're just standing there, complicit in the whole thing like it's a Sunday barbecue."
She paused, narrowing her eyes at the officer, her voice cutting lower, sharper.
"And you're okay with that? A lynch mob. Really? You, of all people, letting that slide? For shame. What're you gonna do next? Stand there and watch when they drag him out of here? Maybe hand them a rope while you're at it?"
Ursula grabs the mic and talks directly to the camera while the Anchor tried to wrestle the microphone back politely.
"Hey Hawkins basketball Moms, do you know where your kids are tonight??"
Eddie's eyes flicked to her, wide and searching, but she kept her focus on the screen, her expression unreadable.
The footage zoomed back to the news anchor, but in the corner of the screen, Ursula could still be seen squaring off with Officer Callahan. The station's audio tech cranked up the volume, capturing her sharp voice: "Callahan. Of course. Nothing screams 'public safety' like the guy who spent prom night crying in his Camaro."
Her tone was low, meant for him alone, but the mic caught every dripping ounce of sarcasm. The anchor froze, clearly torn between pretending it didn't happen and acknowledging the viral gold unfolding live on air
"Turn it up!" Robyn yelled!
Eddie's lips twitched faintly, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through despite the situation. This was too good.
The report ended with the news anchor announcing, "Eddie Munson is no longer considered a suspect and is instead being sought as a witness to assist in the investigation. Authorities are encouraging Mr. Munson to come to the station to provide his testimony."
The group collectively inhaled, a moment of relief washing over them.
The Nancy shushed them quickly, pointing to the screen.
"Wait, listen—this is the best part."
The footage lingered on Ursula, catching her final words: ",…I'll have the kind of LA lawyer that makes judges shit themselves here faster than you can say Affirmative Action. Don't play with me."
The camera cut back to the stunned news anchor, who hesitated before continuing.
"Boo-ya!" Ursula said, snapping her fingers and breaking the silence. "You can thank me later."
Eddie stared at her, his awe unmistakable now. For the first time in what felt like days, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face.
And for a fleeting moment, as their eyes met, the chaos of the world outside the cabin faded away.
As the news broadcast flickered off, the room erupted into chaos.
Steve clapped Ursula on the back with a mix of pride and disbelief.
"Holy Shit! You grabbed his badge! Callahan's gonna cry himself to sleep tonight."
Dustin was practically glowing. He spun toward Ursula, his grin stretched so wide it looked painful.
"YES! That was amazing! Did you see his face? Total humiliation. The guy was dying."
Robin leaned back, arms crossed but her eyes wide.
"You're like a force of nature. Honestly, I'm kind of scared of you now. In a good way."
The group laughed, their tension briefly forgotten, but one person wasn't joining in. Eddie. He hadn't moved since the screen went dark. Instead, he stared at Ursula like she was a riddle he had no hope of solving.
"Who ARE you?" Eddie finally asked, his voice low and tinged with disbelief.
The room quieted as Ursula turned to face him fully. Her confident smirk faded for just a moment as she met his gaze. He looked at her like she was a specter—a miracle and a complication all rolled into one. She let the silence hang for a beat before speaking. Then the most wicked smirk he'd ever seen, slowly curled across her face.
"I'm Ursula," she said evenly with a wink.
"Ursula Henderson."
"Wait. Henderson, like Dustin Henderson?
Eddie blinked.
"Henderson?" His eyes darted to Dustin, then back to her. "Are you his cousin or something?"
Dustin snorted loudly, his grin returning.
"Nope. Not my cousin."
Steve, ever the instigator, leaned against the wall with a self-satisfied smirk.
"A little closer than a cousin."
Eddie's brows knit together as he looked between them, confusion growing.
"What? Like a sister…? Or like, a STEP-sister? "
"Kinky, but Nope!" Steve said with a flourish.
"Better. She's his kid."
That made Eddie freeze. He blinked once, twice, and then leaned back slightly like the weight of the words physically hit him.
"His… kid?" he asked, his voice slow and careful, like he was afraid of the answer.
Dustin, now serious and steady, nodded.
"Yeah. From the future."
Eddie let out a short laugh but then sobered when no one joined in.
A heavy silence fell over the room. Even the faint rustling of the wind outside seemed to disappear. Eddie's eyes locked onto Ursula again, searching for any sign this was a joke. But all he found was her faint, knowing smile.
"You're telling me," Eddie said slowly, his voice slightly louder now, "you're Henderson's kid. From the future."
"That's, like, the short version," Ursula said, her smirk returning.
Eddie stared at Ursula, his expression frozen in what could only be described as total system failure. His hand lifted slowly, finger shaking slightly as he pointed at Dustin, his voice halting as his brain tried to catch up with the conversation.
"I…?" Eddie stuttered.
His eyes narrowed as he squinted at Ursula, like he was trying to make sense of an alien life-form standing before him. His gaze flicked from her combat boots to the confident set of her shoulders, and then back to her striking face.
"And you—what? Just decided to… show up here? Now?"
Ursula tilted her head slightly, her face calm, though her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag.
"Well, I was supposed to get here a little over a MONTH ago, but El's aim seems to have been a little… off. Sucks… we could have saved us a lot of aggravation."
Ursula sighed deeply.
"Basically, time travel's a real bitch," she said evenly, her tone laced with dry humor.
"And now you're part of this whole thing, Eddie, whether you like it or not. I was trying to make sure you didn't have to be. I was supposed to save Chrissy and Fred. And now they're dead, and you're too enmeshed. But who knows, this might be "fun" if we don't all die!"
Steve, who had been quietly observing Eddie's growing bewilderment, couldn't resist jumping in. He grinned wide,
his amusement practically radiating off him.
"Honestly, Eddie? I think you're handling this well. I mean, most people would've passed out by now."
Steve leaned in closer to Eddie, his grin widening.
"And she totally owned Officer Callahan. On live TV. Looks like she got you out of a bunch of hot water, too."
As Steve, Dustin, and Robin spiraled into chaotic laughter, about the Smackdown of Officer Callahan, Eddie's wide eyes darted between them, the disbelief on his face thick enough to taste.
The weight of the entire situation pressed on him, surreal and suffocating, until his gaze landed on Ursula. She stood apart, her posture steady amidst the storm. For a moment, Eddie latched onto her like a lifeline.
He cast a glance at Ursula, the only one not contributing to the chaos. She leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a faint smirk playing on her lips. Eddie tilted his head toward her, his tone deadpan.
"Are they always like this?"
Ursula arched an eyebrow, her reply tinged with dry amusement.
"It's actually a lot worse when they're older. Still funny, though."
Their eyes met, holding for a beat longer than necessary. It was a moment of shared exasperation, their unspoken connection cutting through the madness. Eddie exhaled a short laugh despite himself, a reluctant smile creeping onto his face.
"Yeah, okay," he muttered, running a hand through his tangled curls.
"I'm losing my mind."
Eddie straightened, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. commotion like a razor. Everyone turned to him, startled into silence.
"Alright, time out!" His voice sliced through the
"I need answers," he demanded, his tone laced with exasperation.
"What exactly is going on? And—"
Steve leaned over to Robin with a sly grin.
"I bet she could time-travel us to a Springsteen concert."
Robin's face lit up, as if this were the best idea she'd ever heard.
"Oh my God. Or Woodstock."
Dustin stared at them, his expression caught between disbelief and frustration.
"Guys! Focus!"
Ursula pinched the bridge of her nose, a long-suffering sigh escaping her lips. She straightened and gestured for the group to quiet down.
"Alright, can we please stop giving him more reasons to think I'm insane?"
"Also, the time travel thing… That was like, a one-time deal. I'm not even the one who did it, either, so no Woodstock for you. Womp womp. Besides, if we COULD go anywhere, I CERTAINLY would'nt take us to see fucking Springsteen… uggh, we'd be going to Sabbath in 1970. My TARDIS, my rules.
Eddie froze, blinking at her as if she'd just spoken the words of a prophet.
"Paris 1970?" His voice was reverent.
Ursula couldn't help but blink shyly at his reverent tone, "Obviously. That show was the goat for sure."
"Goat?" Eddie asked, confused.
"GOAT means Greatest of all Time… get it?"
The room chuckled at her remark, the tension easing for a moment. Eddie, however, wasn't laughing. His dark eyes fixed on her with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Eddie takes a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair.
"None of this is making any sense. YOU. Explain. Please."
Ursula looked at Eddie and then her Dad and began, her tone measured but laced with intensity. She nodded to herself, a decision made.
"Ok, listen up, because I only want to say this once, Ok?" The group nods. "So, I totally get it. This is whole thing is pretty fucking insane for me too. But I need you guys to listen to me—everything I'm about to tell you is the truth, whether you believe it or not. And if you don't figure out if you can trust me, like, basically now, we are so beyond fucked. Like, game over, man."
She turned to Eddie, locking eyes with him. Her voice softened, but the gravity of her words only deepened. "You think this is bad? This?" She gestured to the group, the cabin, the tension hanging in the air like a fog.
"This is nothing. What's coming is so much worse."
Eddie blinked, his grip on the chair tightening.
"Worse? Worse than a flesh wizard who lives in a hell dimension?"
Ursula let out a bitter laugh.
"Yeah... Way worse. Let me spell it out for you."
Ursula steepled her fingers together under her chin and took a few pacing steps as she prepared to really tell them what's about to happen.
"So, on March 27th, 1986—five days from today- Henry Creel, or Vecna, or One or whatever the hell you want to call him, makes his next big move. Lucas, he sacrifices your shooty-hoops friend Patrick next. Then the next day we lose Eddie, and Max within the same hour. And your deaths are horrifying."
The silence was deafening.
"Once he's got Max, the literal fucking bells of the apocalypse chime. Max has already head them. And when that happens, you know all the gates between this world and the Upside Down? They ALL blow wide the fuck open.
Hawkins becomes ground zero for something you can't even imagine. Entire neighborhoods are leveled in an instant. People die. A fucking lot of people."
Ursula let the words hang in the air, her gaze sweeping over the group. Max froze, her expression unreadable as her fingers fidgeted nervously against her jeans. Steve had gone pale, his smirk wiped clean as he exchanged a glance with Nancy, both of them visibly rattled. Even Robin, usually the first to fill a silence with her rambling, said nothing—her mouth parted slightly, words dying before they left.
Ursula, seeing her fear growing, kneels down to look Max directly in the eye.
"I am NOT going to let him get you Max.
" Ursula puts a hand on Max's shoulder.
"I promise, dude. Keeping you out of that fuckers hands is my prime directive. I know you're scared and I know you don't have any reason to trust me, but I promise you. If we fail, it will be because I am dead. I mean it Max."
Ursula's hands tightened into fists at her sides.
"But we're gonna need to make some moves. And, if we don't intervene now, like, TODAY, now," she continued, her voice sharper now, as if she could feel the seconds slipping through her fingers, "the devastation will be UNIMAGINABLE. Hawkins? The whole goddamn town turns into a LITERAL hellhole—like, an actual literal HOLE that leads right down to Hell. The roads crack open, and there's these fucking lava chasms everywhere… all crawling with those creepy-ass vines."
Ursula's voice faltered for a second as the images played behind her eyes, unbidden and all too real. Her breath hitched—she could smell the acrid smoke, feel the heat against her face, hear the distant, muffled screams. For a fraction of a second, she wasn't here. She was there. Born into the fire and chaos.
She shook her head quickly, blinking the memories back. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier, but quieter, like she was afraid to let it all spill out.
"And the gates?"
Ursula's hands lifted, almost as if she were shaping the reality of her words right in front of them. Her eyes, unfocused, stared into nothing as she spoke.
"They're not just gates anymore; they're like, these massive, gaping wounds in reality," she looks down at her hands as if she can't believe what she's seeing, "and it's bleeding fucking actual Eldritch Horrors all over downtown like some kind of cosmic artery burst."
Her voice trailed off, and she turned her gaze to Eddie, fixing him with a look that sent a chill through his spine. For all the chaos of the moment, there was something frighteningly still about her expression, as if she was begging him to see it, to believe her. Eddie swallowed hard, his knuckles white on the chair.
Her gaze shifted to Dustin. For the first time, there was no trace of sarcasm or bravado in her eyes—just fear. Fear and the faintest flicker of desperation.
'Daddy please'…it said. Her voice remained steady, but her eyes told the truth she couldn't say out loud.
"The sky is a burning fucking shitstorm of red flames, lightning and black ash every single day nonstop for almost 40 years. It never rains. It never snows anything but ash. The sun never comes out. And the monsters? They're fucking everywhere. And this time they're BIG since they have so much food here. There's no safe houses, no hiding spots—just pure chaos and blood. That's it. That's all there is."
Ursula seems so lost in that moment. She's far away and it rips at Dustin's heart in a way he did not expect. She starts wringing her hands pacing. She is here physically, but her mind is getting lost back in that place. Her voice starts rising in anger.
"1,500 confirmed dead within the first 48 hours, at least 90 people were never found. Parents buried their babies and their children in mass graves, hundreds of kids were left orphaned. All the animals died." She looks up from her pacing a little surprised for a half second with a little too much tear-shine in her eyes.
Biblical end times and lovecraft type shit. And I'll say this again. It is still on track to happen in 5 days."
The group exchanged uneasy glances, the reality of the threat sinking in.
"5. Ok? 5 days."
"So we gotta make sure that THIS time around," Ursula continued, her voice growing sharp again,"certain mistakes don't get made. Like, none of them. And we need to take some preemptive measures. But most of all, this dumb fucking plan you've already started cooking up—you know, the one with the full on suit-up montage and weapons made from literal trash cans—yeah, that whole deal needs to be put on the goddamn shelf. Like way the fuck back on the shelf. Until Eleven is back, we are on DEFENSE. We remove threats, we lay low, and most important we keep Eddie and Max alive, no matter WHAT. We lock this shit DOWN. And then, and ONLY then, once the whole party is back together, that's when we can mount up and pwn this son of a bitch."
"And how exactly do we do that?" Eddie challenged, his voice tinged with doubt.
Ursula met his gaze, unwavering.
"By confronting Vecna head-on. We run a fucking real life Siege Quest. Which,(trust me) sounds a lot more fun than it actually will be. I have what amounts to the ultimate Henry Creel Monster Manual, and with the right strategy; that's why we need our DM," she looks at Eddie, "we can exploit all of his weaknesses. We need to ride straight into the belly of Mordor, ok Zoomer?" She looks at Max, "But we can't start without our Sorcerer or all will be lost." Ursula says with a wink.
Finally, she managed, "Zoomer too?" Max blinked hard, her mouth opening and closing like she wasn't sure which question to ask first.
"Wait—you know everything? Like every-everything?"
Ursula gave her a small, tight smile.
"Uh, not everything. But enough to keep us all alive until at least the final showdown..."
Max glanced at Eddie, her face pale but resolute.
"She's not kidding, is she?"
Eddie shook his head, his voice quiet. "Not even a little." His eyes darted back to Ursula, the doubt softening as something unspoken passed between them—fear, hope, trust.
"Jesus H. Christ," he muttered, half to himself.
"This is fucking insane."
Ursula met his gaze, her voice steady but grave.
"It is. And some of us won't make it out of this. And that's OK. As long as he's stopped. It won't be easy, and it won't be without risk. But I'm doing it with or without you guys' help," she says.
Steve stepped forward, his jaw set with resolve.
"Risk is something we're familiar with. If it means protecting Hawkins, we're in."
A flicker of relief crossed Ursula's eyes, though the burden of the mission remained heavy.
"Good. We'll need to prepare, gather resources, and plan meticulously. You younger kids need to figure out some kind of alibi for your parents, because we need to lay low until the reinforcements arrive. And it could be a while. Otherwise, just accept that you might be instantly grounded after saving the world, and get over it. Time is not on our side. El overshot my arrival date… I'm honestly freaking the fuck out about it a little."
Robin raised a hand as if she were in school.
"Wait—back up. What's this about Eleven 'overshooting'? Like, was she aiming for your birthday and ended up missing by a couple months, or…?" She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.
Ursula smirked. "Something like that I think, I actually don't know." she said dryly. Nancy frowned.
"So, what does that mean for us?"
"Yeah," Lucas chimed in, leaning forward. "Are we missing something critical here? What happens if we can't get her back in time?"
"That's the thing," Ursula said, rubbing her temples. "I don't know. I don't know what happens if we're too late. And that scares the shit out of me, so let's not find out, okay?"
"We've been planning this mission for about five years. I was supposed to show up here back in January, so I had time to convince you that it's really me and we could prepare. But like I said, the time travel thing is a bitch, and it was like a one-time thing, so I need to adjust the plan."
Dustin piped up, frowning. "Wait, what do you mean 'one-time thing'? Like, no do-overs at all?"
Nancy folded her arms, narrowing her eyes as she processed Ursula's story.
"One and done," she said slowly.
"So that means… you don't get to go back home when this is over?"
Ursula exhaled sharply, her voice steady but hollow.
"Nope. There's no going back. I'm pretty sure there isn't a "back" to go back to, anyway. Not anymore.
Eddie ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily.
"So you're stuck here, then."
Ursula grinned humorlessly.
"Yuuuup. That's my deal. I knew what I was getting into. It's not like I really had a choice. It was this or watch the end of the world."
Eddie let out a long, shaky breath, his hands still gripping the back of the chair like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His wide eyes darted around the room, taking in each of their faces—some tense, some weary, all expectant. They were waiting for him to say something. Anything.
"Okay," he finally muttered, the word dragging itself out like it weighed a ton. He scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling sharply.
"Okay. I'm keeping an open mind. But just so we're clear—I still think I might be losing my mind."
Steve grinned and was instantly at Eddie's side, throwing a casual arm around his shoulders.
"Welcome to the club, Munson," he said, his voice light and easy. "You'll fit right in."
Eddie snorted despite himself, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe this was his life now.
"Great," he mumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Just what I always wanted. To join the Scooby Gang."
Ursula rolled her eyes, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," she quipped, her voice teasing but warm.
Eddie glanced at her, and for a moment, the noise in his head seemed to quiet. There was something unspoken in her gaze—a mixture of wry amusement and sincerity, as if she understood the sheer absurdity of the situation but wasn't about to let him crumble under it.
For a brief second, their eyes held, and in that flicker of connection, something sparked. A quiet exchange of bewilderment, intrigue, and maybe—just maybe—the faintest glimmer of trust.
Eddie looked away first, shaking his head again as if to clear it.
"Alright," he muttered.
"So what now?"
The room hummed with a renewed sense of purpose as Ursula stepped forward, her smirk sharpening into something more determined.
"It's time to boogie on outta here, and get to the War-Room," she replied.