Chapter Text
“Ah, Mr. Ballard, you’re here.”
I glance up, watching Henry enter, his eyes dark brown and his expression a sort of blank calm. My gaze returns to the cuffs around my wrists. No way to run with these on, and it makes using my abilities… tricky, for lack of a better word. I breathe deeply. Just relax.
Jonathan glances between me and him, brows twisting in confusion. “Kill you? What do you mean by that?”
I hear Henry’s shoes on the tile floor as he walks over, placing a hand on my shoulder. His grip is tight, pulling at the fabric of my–well, Nancy’s–sweater and the flesh below it. It almost hurts. I barely hear the officer’s words, but the small click of his key seems to echo through the room as he undoes my cuffs.
I stand when pulled up, energy thrumming around me. It’s not enough to be noticeable by anyone else, but I feel it weigh down on me, keeping me from moving all that much.
“What did you mean?” Jonathan asks again, tone more frantic. He struggles against the metal around his wrists.
I glance back. “Good luck with Nancy. Just go on without me.”
Henry’s cold hand slides to the back of my neck, pushing me forward. The moment we’re out of the station, his hold on me tightens, shoving me into the passenger seat of the car like the cops did a bit over an hour ago. He starts driving, eyes barely leaving the road, but the magical hold on me never lessens.
“You aren’t Henry.”
He hums. “Not sure what you mean by that, Thirteen.”
“What do you want?”
“I think I’ve made it clear.”
“Henry won’t let you. That wasn’t part of your deal with him.”
“Deal is a generous word for it. He does what I say. Besides, why should he put so much effort into helping you when you’ve abandoned him.”
“I never abandoned him, I abandoned you.”
“Not much of a difference is there, hm? We wear the same body.”
“Get. Out. Of. Him,” I snap, pushing against the energy.
In an instant, his hand finds the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. I open my mouth to question this, and he slams my face into the headboard. Twice. My jaw hits the surface hard, the blood rushing to my head so fast my vision blurs. He swerves back onto the road, my side slamming into the car door.
“Shh, relax little girl.”
He slams his foot onto the breaks, my chest straining against the seatbelt, and gets out. I blink hard, trying to clear the spots from my vision. My teeth feel loose, blood pooling around my gums as I’m yanked back out. Maybe I was right in what I said to Jonathan. It had felt like an exaggeration when I’d said it. Not anymore.
Yet again, I find my wrists bound, this time with a tightly pulled piece of rope. Stumbling to my feet, I’m pulled along like a dog on a leash, trying not to black out. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be this easily beaten. I throw myself backwards, knocking him off balance as I struggle to free myself. In seconds, I can’t feel the floor beneath my feet.
I force my magic against his hold, kicking around wildly. He whips around, hurling me into the stairs. My head hits the wooden railing and I crumple. My vision blurs until my surroundings are incomprehensible, tears welling up between the flashes to black. A low ringing fills my ears, echoing in the chamber of my empty skull. Moments later, I feel cold fingers wrap around my throat, dragging me up the steps.
I count. Two flights to the second floor, a third for the attic. The temperature drops below zero when we enter, the ringing replaced with the low hiss of the portal. I choke on my own blood, not even able to bring in enough air to cough. My nails dig into his hand and I flail my legs against the wooden floor. He readjusts his grip to my hair instead, continuing to drag me forward until we break the gooey film that seals off the doorway.
The air feels damp inside the Upside Down, spores clinging to me. The ground is bumpy with those weird snake-like vines, slime coating Nancy’s poor sweater. It’s such a pretty lavender colour too. I’ll have to apologize to her later. Will I make it that far?
The walk is long, my scalp burning with the constant tension. I try to stumble to my feet, if only to stop some of the pain, but he keeps a brisk pace. I’m only just able to open my eyes enough to recognize the library when we enter it, the tentacles seeming to come to life below me. They slither over me, wrapping around my torso and lifting me up. I’m pulled up against the wall, unable to move, head slumping forward.
“Don’t be afraid. You’ll prove very useful.”
I blink, eyes blurry. There’s something… I squint, looking past Henry’s dead eyes to see what’s behind him. Oh. That’s Will. He looks so much like his mom, like Jonathan. Suspended like I am, he looks half dead, something shoved in his throat. It pulses every few moments and he lets out a choked gurgling sound.
“Henry… Henry please…”
He stares at me blankly. “He can’t protect you anymore.”
I feel the tentacle coming before I see it, sliding down my oesophagus. I gag instantly, saliva mixing with the blood on my lips, but it pushes deeper, deeper. I feel it in my stomach.
Dark eyes stare into mine and a thumb brushes over my cheek.
“We will do beautiful things.”
The face blurs, unfocused, then everything darkens.
* * *
“Thirteen? No, no no…”
There are hands on my face again, cold palms against my cheeks. I blink awake, hoping to see Jonathan or Nancy, here to save me. Instead, the face is the same as before, eyes so very blue.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says to himself, voice cracking, yet makes no attempt to pull the vine from my throat.
He tears away only some of the ones around my torso, just enough that he can lean his head on my chest. He murmurs apologies against my collarbone but leaves me to choke. I sputter around each pulse of the tentacle, more blood and spittle sliding down my chin. I feel something in my stomach, pumping in, but I can’t tell what it is. I don’t want to think about it.
Only bits of air ever enter my lungs, yet the tube seems designed specially to suffocate without killing. Maybe that’s why he doesn't try to save me. He doesn’t need to face the fact that he’s killing me, my body stays warm. He can live in a blissful existence, thinking he can keep both me and Him. Physically, I guess he can.
“I tried to protect you… I did. Tell me you understand.”
His arms slide around my waist and I tense, trying to pull away. His grip tightens, his eyes sad. Tired.
“Come on, Thirteen, don’t act this way with me. This world is doomed. I’ve coddled you, tried to leave some light in your life, but it has blinded you. People are the problem. All of them. We need them gone… it’s the only way.”
His fingers trail around my lips, feeling the slime-coated vine inside me. His hand curls around it. He could pull it out so easily. He doesn’t.
“That was… that was the plan… the actual one.”
He hesitates, clearly not wanting me to know.
“Eleven and you.. were the most powerful ones there, easily. The most sceptical of Papa, too. I only needed one of you to follow me. Eleven was younger and, from what I’d assumed at the time, more easily molded. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you met me that first day, though. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a backup. It ended up working out.”
A backup. The word rings around my head, but I force myself to focus.
“After you took out that pesky little chip in my neck, I was able to do what I needed. We were meant to run off to my old house and open the portal. You’d grow the army we needed, take over Hawkins… take over everything. These faceless ones could take on dozens of unarmed humans on their own, even a few military each, but we needed more.”
The tentacle lurches again and my throat seizes, sending a ripple of convulsions through me. He watches with a dull gaze, wiping my chin off with his handkerchief.
“However… I guess you weren’t quite strong enough to open a portal. At least not the first one. After the connection is made initially, it gets easier and easier. You were the backup. I hadn’t watched you as long as I had with Eleven.”
He breathes deeply, the action itself feeling like a mockery.
“Four years alone with you, without Him nearby… The plan started to twist. I didn’t want this for you.”
He presses his hand against my stomach, feeling the outline of the tentacle. It’s moving.
“I still don’t.”
He sighs. “But… there’s nothing to be done now. You grow this army and He will finally leave you alone. I’ll keep you safe at home while those beasts wreck havoc, fix this broken world.”
He smiles, it looks sad. “Just a bit longer now… the pain will end soon, Thirteen.”
He looks up at me, straightening, cupping my face between his hands.
“You’ll forgive me, ri-”
He flinches, glancing over his shoulder.
“There are people here. They’re probably after William.”
He runs his tongue over his lips, hesitating. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, my thoughts slowed in my head. Suddenly, the vines recede and I drop limply into his arms. He yanks the thing out of my throat, vomit and slime coming with it. My insides feel raw.
He holds me against his chest, carrying me out of sight right as two people enter the building. I don’t know why he hides from them, why he doesn’t just kill them. I’m grateful, I guess. Jonathan will be happy to get Will back.
I hear the woman’s sobs as she frees him, and I realize that it’s Joyce. I want to say something, but I don’t even have the energy to move my lips. Instead, I listen. Will isn’t breathing. That thing killed him. Right as the thought occurs to me, I hear a loud gasp and a new wave of tears, happier ones this time.
They don’t stick around after that, hurrying back the way they came. Please… come back…
Henry trails his thumb over my bottom lip, frowning. “You’re bleeding. He hurt you more than he should. We’ll clean you up, then continue the plan.”
He stands, lifting me up. He starts the walk back to the house, his expression relaxed. I watch it, noticing the exact moment his eyes widen. He stutters, dropping me as he clutches his chest. My back hits the dirt, the impact causing more slime to spew from my lips. I push onto my hands and knees, coughing onto the dirt.
He groans in pain above me, hit with some sudden, unidentifiable ailment. His breathing only evens after a few moments, his teeth gritting.
“She killed the faceless one. Eleven did.”
He sneers at me, pulling me back up and into his arms.
“You should’ve killed her when you had the chance.”
I breathe heavily against him, drifting in and out of consciousness. Somehow, we make it back to the portal, back down the stairs. I hear the sound of rushing water as he begins stripping off my blood and vomit covered clothes.
“Where did you even get these? I didn’t buy them,” he mutters to himself.
When the tub is full, he places me down inside. I flinch at the freezing water, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he cleans me off, helps me rinse out my mouth, and patches up the few injuries. The room fills with the smell of flowery soap, filling my head with cottonballs.
He messages shampoo into my hair, humming to himself. He treats every injury with disgusting amounts of care, then wraps me in a towel and lays me in his bed. Moments later, there’s a mug of tea in my hands. He sits down next to me and I move aside.
“Don’t be difficult now. It–It’s for a cause. Fixing the world, remember? There’s no reason to back out now.”
I stare at the mug of tea in front of me, watching the ripples in the warm, brown liquid. “Do you even believe that yourself, or is this Him talking?”
He frowns. “Look at me. I’m still the same person. I saved you from the lab, I took care of you for years. Just because you disagree with my current methods, that doesn’t mean anything.”
I glare at him. “You are not the same person you were two weeks ago.”
“Aren’t I?”
“You used to be someone I cared about.”
His lips press into a thin line, but he turns away before I can figure out what emotions are swirling in his eyes. When I next see him, it’s with black veins creeping down from his hairline and dead eyes.
He ties a rope around my arms and lets me sleep, his gaze never leaving. I can feel it when I turn my back, when I close my eyes. It’s painful. Itchy. Burning.
…
The next day, I awake in the Upside Down, the tentacle shoved back in my throat. I never see blue eyes after that.
Weeks pass.
To Be Continued