Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve stumbled into the car, banking to get the bright glare out of his eyes. He yelled at the kids to get in, his head pounding and blood slowly trickling down his leg.

He pushed the pedal down on and began to drive, trying his best to stay awake. It was a struggle, and thankfully the kids were too tired to notice the small swerves that occurred when his eyes slid shut.

It was only when he narrowly missed a tree, blood from his forehead trickling down into his eye, that Mike and Max shouted at him, and he was forcibly dragged out of the seat and placed into the back seat.

This was both good and bad. Good in the sense that he was no longer driving and wouldn’t endanger the kids, Bad in the sense that now he could take notice of his injuries.

One of those demo… things had sunk its claws into his leg as he jumped up, and that was sluggishly bleeding.
His head was still bleeding ( which he knew wasn’t a good sign), and the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open wasn’t great either. Breathing hurt, his ribs aching ( probably broken, at the very least bruised), and …

Where was he ?

Someone was pulling his arm and trying to get him to go somewhere. He didn’t have the energy to fight back, so he complied rather miserably.

There were bright lights everywhere, wherever this was, and he managed to lean on something.

Probably a wall judging by the paintings on it.

He tried to stay standing up, but he was slowly sliding down the wall.

The kids.

He looked up. He could see Max’s red hair, Lucas’s blue bandana, Dustin’s baseball cap and…

Where was Mike?

Children, he decided, were irresponsible, spontaneously idiotic dip@£$%@

He drifted off, hearing more voices, adult voices approaching.

His kids would be okay, and that was all that mattered.

As his eyes slid shut, he was thankful that it had been him, and not Kali that had remained in Hawkins.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Jim Hopper was not having a great day. Sure, El was back, and the portal was closed, but… he had an exhausted child in his arms, and knew he would have terrible nightmares about those tunnels for months.

He walked into the Byer’s house, pulling in and frowning at the car in the driveway.

It was parked horrifically bad, and had two doors open. One had a smear of blood on it, the other seemed to have the Hargrove kid in the seat, out cold.

He decided to ask the kids about it, and helping El up, he walked into chaos.

Max and Lucas were sitting on the couch looking rather sad, Dustin was near tears and Mike was frantically trying to jam the phone back into the wall.

“… What’s goin’ on?”

He asked, letting Mike take El from his arms and sit her down on the sofa.

“Steve”, sniffed Dustin, and Hopper whirled around, looking for the kid, until his eyes saw something he knew would be forever burned into his mind.

The kid looked dead.

His usually perfectly coifed hair was slicked with blood, blood that appeared to be still flowing. His face had a myriad of red and purple bruises, and where it wasn’t bruised his skin looked worryingly pale and waxy, a rather alarming grey colour.

He scooped the kid up, taking note of the blood running down his leg, and went to fetch the first-aid kit.

As he began stitching together a large gash on his jaw, knowing he couldn’t do anything until Joyce returned with the phone, he ordered

“Explain. Now!”

And so Max began telling him. How her brother had come into the house and had tried to beat up Lucas, but how Steve had stepped in. How Hargrove had smashed plates, and hadn’t stopped punching him until he had been sedated.

And how Steve had been out cold for about half an hour, and had then lead the kids into the tunnels, and, running on pure adrenaline, had saved them all.

Whilst one part of his brain was wondering how the “brainless jock” had suddenly turned into the “heroic baby-sitter”, the other part was very, very concerned.

The head trauma which the kid had gone through was pretty intense, and the fact that he was out cold for so long worried him.

It worried him a lot.

Finally, Joyce arrived, and Hopper opened the door, letting the rather sweaty looking family walk in.

He sat on the couch, not noticing the way that El, who had previously been too tired to walk, was staring intently at Steve’s face.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Joyce, was so relieved, she was nearly ecstatic. Will was free, Jonathan had a girl-friend and that horrible portal had finally closed.

She walked in to see an interesting sight. There seemed to be an unconscious teenager in a strange car in her driveway, but judging by the fact that Lucas was telling Will about how heavy he was to drag, she decided to ignore it.

She went to the kitchen, to find something to eat ( those children seemed too tired to have just stayed here), Jim came to her.

He looked worried, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together, and she suddenly noticed that his hands were coated with blood.

“Joyce, I need you to call an ambulance. The Harrington kid got hurt trying to protect the rugrats, and its pretty bad. I put him in the guest room, because… you’ll see. The kids shouldn’t have to see that.”

She handed her phone to Hopper, and walked into the room, unprepared for what she saw.

He looked dead.

It reminded her way too much of that awful moment in the morgue. The only indication that he was alive was the shallow rise of his chest, and the red blood staining the pillows.

She closed the door behind her, and decided to get to work. She had once trained as a nurse, before Lonnie had told her that she “didn’t need to pretend to be smart”.

She saw the stitches, and the rainbow plasters. She set his nose, and he groaned, or tried to.

She stroked his head, and gasped as she realised that it was still bleeding. And Hopper had said that the incident had occurred over two hours ago.

This was bad.

She wondered what she should do, trying to ignore the horrible possibilities, when suddenly, Steve’s body went still.

No. Not now.

As the boy’s body started twitching, she yelled for Jonathan to come. She needed someone to help her get him into recovery position, and her entire body was so tired, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it.

That ambulance needed to come. Fast.

———————————————————————————————————————————-

Jonathan had changed into normal, non-sweaty clothes, and was watching as Dustin, Mike and Will all argued over which Star Wars film was the best.

He let himself relax, smiling as Nancy took his hand into hers, when he heard his mother shriek for him.

He ran, taking Nancy with him into the guest room, and almost felt his heart stop.

His mom was struggling to keep…Steve’s? head still as he thrashed about.

He helped her, and grabbed pillows to try and cushion Steve’s bleeding leg, wondering how this happened.

As the thrashes turned to spasms, which turned to twitched, he sighed, slumping onto the bed.
“That Ambulance better get here soon.” muttered his Mom, and he couldn’t help but ask himself when this had happened.

When had Steve Harrington, the idiot jock from the year below, get injured to the point of looking like death.

He watched as his mom raked her hands down his neck, muttering reassurances to the boy, who wasn’t quite there, but his eyelids were fluttering and his nose was steadily bleeding.

———————————————————————————————————————————

He concentrated on suppressing his powers. He knew he was in a bad shape, he only felt like this when he was in a really, really bad way.

The last time this had happened, was when he had broken his leg after falling down a cliff, in the middle of winter.

He had woken up to snow flakes floating upwards, and his bike crumpled ,like a tin can next to him. He couldn’t let his power’s show, these people had had enough with the messy world of powers.
He had almost lost control when he seized, but luckily, no-one noticed the way that the table creaked under the new pressure of the paper on top of it.

Once he had it under control, he decided to let go.

Five let darkness wash over him as he felt blue and red lights beat against his eyelids.
———————————————————————————————————————————

Police Chief, Jim Hopper, is officially done with hospitals. He hates their plastic, antiseptic smell, their glaringly white halogen lights, and the way that nothing good ever comes out of them.

He had tried to call Steve’s parents. He got a tired receptionist telling him that Mrs Harrington was occupied right now, and a Mr Harrington's PA telling him that Mr Harrington was busy at the moment, and that next time, to come up with a better lie, because in the two yearsshe had worked for Mr Harrington, he hasn't mentioned a son.

The phone on the other side is slammed down rather sharply, reminding Jim to hug Flo more, for never slamming phones on tired, confused police chiefs.

He concludes that, despite the fact that their child had a seizure and had to have his heart restarted because of blood-loss, Harrington’s parent’s don’t care.

That is pretty awful, when he thinks about it.

The doctors seem to think that Steve will be fine, with some precautions, but he knows how miserable he’ll be when he wakes up.

He knows the kids are waiting outside to see him, but he debates how much good it’ll do.

Steve Harrington, despite his athletic build and his long shaggy hair, seem unbearably small.

His head is covered with stitches, his arm hooked up to a steady drip of painkillers, and his ribs are wrapped up, with his leg covered in bandages.

He looks very. very young now, with purple bruising covering his face, his hair hanging limply at his ears.

Dustin pushes the door open, and realising that Steve isn’t awake, his face falls, his wild curls, stiff with that sweet-smelling hair-spray, fall into his face when he sees his friend lying on the bed.

Lucas and Max hold hands, and even Mike looks distraught, despite how distrustful of Steve he was at first.

It looks wrong, seeing someone who once seemed so clueless, so obnoxious, so selfish, lying small and still in a hospital bed, after having saved the lives of a bunch of kids.

Everyone is too wrapped up in their own shock and grief, that only Mike notices the other prescence in the room.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Eleven frowned. She was tired, so tired, but very … curious.

She didn’t feel like she was travelling, so she didn’t know if she was in a “curiosity voyage”, but she wanted to know why she recognised his face.

Not in the way she had recognised Nancy’s face, in a “ I have seen you once before, and I remember a bit”

But in the way like when she had seen Kali’s face after a few days, when her brain had suddenly remembered.

But she didn’t remember him as Steve, but as Five. As the boy that would come in and go out. As the boy that gave her crayons and paper before he disappeared.

As a nice person.

She blindfolded herself, and sat in the darkness, for a while, until she focused on a hospital bed.

Five lay on the bed, looking hurt. She knew Mike and Dad were there, but she needed to see if this was Five.

She touched his hand, and asked:

“ Are you Five?” The air in the room suddenly got thinner, she could hear people’s breathing suddenly increasing.

She suddenly wanted to kiss Mike, and hug Dad, and to talk to Will. She wanted to run and run in the forest, using her powers to play with the leaves.

She almost did, until she heard a sound coming from everything. From every air molecule, to the bed, to even Dad’s chair

“Yes.”

———————————————————————————————————————————

He decided to let her know.

She deserved that much, after having closed the portal.

It felt nice to show off his powers, without straining for subtlety, or having someone beating the living daylights out of him because he showed his powers in the wrong way, or refused to use them.

He lowered his blood pressure slightly, and made the painkiller move slower into his bloodstream, so he could wake up.

Eleven was clearly bored, and she had powers at her disposal, so she guessed that everyone else was bored too.

He felt the pain come, ebbing and flowing. His head, his nose, his leg and his chest.

He let his eyelids flutter a bit and opened his eyes to see a bunch of very bored teenagers.

He felt himself mutter,” Why the long faces?”

And he meant it. No-one had died, no-one had been possessed, or taken within the last forty-eight hours, there was no reason for them to be looking so glum.

Dustin’s head bobbed up, smiling at him, and asking him many things like if he was okay, and if he was thirsty and , did he really have to not tell anyone about the concussion?

Lucas tiredly gave him a run down of what had happened. Apparently, it had taken ages for the doctors to insert the IV as there was a weird tattoo on his arm.

Steve looked down, remembering how the scar had formed…
——————————————————————————————————————————-

( Five and a Half Years Ago)

He was sat inside his bedroom. His parents had visited today.

Dr Brenner, had told them how successful he was, that he had the same level of power as Eleven, just that :

“ He isn’t applying himself. She tries hard to please us. He isn’t as bad as Eight, but he could be better.”

His father decided to revoke his privileges at this. He let him, it wasn’t like what his father reaaly wanted to do to him was nice.

Having his hair shaved even closer to his head, and doubling the amount of experiments daily wasn’t terrible, it sucked, but at twelve years old, it wasn’t like Five could change it.

His father had collaborated with Brenner to create him. Everyone else here had gained their powers by accident, but he was a science experiment.

They had given his parents drugs, put his mother in certain types of tanks… and other things to ensure that he would be a good subject.

A new nurse arrived that day. She had curly brown hair, and was nice.

She was openly shocked at the tests.

After one week, she had screamed at someone for hurting Eight, had almost burst into tears as she wiped the blood from Eleven’s ears; but she lost it at the experiments which Five had, on friday.

As they tried to overload his sensory neves, with sound, pain, light and pressure. He focused on her horrified face, the tears streaming from her eyes as she was forced to watch.

He amplified her feelings, overriding the musts, the rules, the finances, the worries and she let him out.

She had almost ushered Kali out, but Brenner had come, and had decided to dispose of Nurse Shandon

He ran out, a small boy, with no hair, covered in bruises and cuts.

But he was free.

The first thing he had done, after finding some clothes, was go to a tattoo parlour.

It had been dodgy, but her had stolen enough money to bribe the man into doing it.

He then had a small bird, a free bird, on his wrist.
——————————————————————————————————————————

Coming back to the present, he looked at Lucas, and weaved a story.

It was a story of teen rebellion, of recklessness and stupidity, and they bought it.

It was good.

They all were reluctantly pulled out of the room by a tired Mrs Byers, who smiled gently at him before her face twisted into one of frustration.

Before he could ask the reason for her ire, Hopper came in, looking angry.

He could sense the confusion, fear and anger rolling of Hopper in waves, he suppressed his powers, not wanting to amplify his emotions any further.

Hopper sat down, and stared at him, before asking

“Kid, do you want to explain why you’re legally emancipated? Or why there are no records of you existing before 1980?”

He gulped, ran his hands through his hair, and pondered how to answer.

He could do it, he could lie and suppress feelings of suspicion, and create a story of a house fire, missing parents and useless relatives.

But judging by the look on Hopper’s face, and the way his dark brown eyes were flicking between Steve’s face and his tattooed wrist, Hopper wasn’t asking.

He was confirming.

—————————————————————————————————————————

( Ten hours ago)

Jim sat at the reception desk, waiting for the secretary to find Steve’s file. He knew that Steve had only started at Hawkins high four years ago, but it shouldn’t have been taking this long to find someone’s file, especially not in a town as small as Hawkins.

After fifteen minutes, the woman handed him a suspiciously light file, which she herself was staring at rather bewilderedly.

He opened it up, and blinked at the document in-front of him. He hadn’t managed to hide his gasp, the kids were all passed out, but Joyce, Nancy and Jonathan were looking at him questioningly.

He shook his head and decided to tell them later.

He needed to understand why a rich, popular kid like Steve had been legally emancipated for four years, from his parents.

He also tried to look through the files, and his heart began sinking into his stomach.

There were no files from Steve’s birth certificate ( which looked suspiciously fresh), to a record from the nurse at Hawkins Middle School.

As he tried to understand, he found a file which shook him to his core.

He felt the blood drain from his face, and the papers began to tremble between his shaking hands.

A paper, a bank transaction from a Dr M Brenner, paying for some medical bills. With the Hawkins National Laboratory stamp on the edge of the paper.

——————————————————————————————————————————

( Present)

He lifted his head, his body now really beginning to ache under the strain of not using painkillers, and of suppressing his powers.

He stared at Hopper, at the pale face under the brown beard, and sighed.

“ What do you want to know?”

“ Who… who are you?”

“ I am Steven Daniel Harrington, otherwise known as Subject 005. My biological parents were shareholders in the Hawkins Laboratory, and determined to show support, they allowed Brenner to use a combination of medications and experimental trials to ensure that I would be special”

He had wanted to keep it impersonal, but by the last word he knew he sounded bitter, and tired.

Hopper was just muttering to himself, and paced up and down, his hands waving about enough to make Steve dizzy

“ Explain how you’re so normal. Now. Finances, attitude everything.”

He wanted to complain, ask why he was being interrogated, when he realised that it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.

He felt his legs begin to jerk, and he dimly realised that he was having a seizure.

He tried to tell Hopper to not get a doctor, but with the pain and the swollen lip, he doubted that Hopper had understood it.

He was going under, but this time.

This time he wasn’t able to suppress his powers.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Joyce Byers went in to give Hopper his coffee.

When she entered the room, Hopper slammed the door shut, and as she looked around, she felt her heart begin to pound.

Everything was wrong.

Hopper had pulled out the IV drips, which were spraying wildly, like an unseen force was pushing on them.

The comic books on the table were floating, like they had forgotten to take notice of gravity.

And Steve, the idiot child who hadn’t told anyone how bad his head injuries were, was coming down from a seizure.

The urge to hug him, to scream at someone and ask what was going on, to run home and hug Will and Jonathan was growing large.

Unnaturally large.

It was like someone had grabbed her emotions, and was amplifying them.

Hopper was staring, glassy eyed at the hospital bed, like he was relieving the grief from Sarah all over again.

When Steve’s eyes flickered open, and blood began to appear under his nose, everything returned to normal.

The saline bag began to merely drip, the books sank back onto the table with a thud, and she felt like she normally did.

The feelings were still there, but normal.

Not freakishly amplified.

“ ‘m sorry, Ms Byers, Chief. Didn’ mean to do tha’”

She sank into the chair, and held her head in her hands.

The portal may have closed. Will may be back, fully back with no Mind whatever playing with his mind.

But things were not back to normal.

Chapter Text

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Once the seizure stopped, he felt awfully guilty.

Hopper was staring at the comic books as they floated down, Mrs Byers was sat down in a chair, looking as if she was about to cry.

He needed to figure out a way to fix this.

He tried to apologise, he really did, but he was tired, and blood was already beginning to crust on top of his swollen lip, so his apology came out rather slurred.

Hopper sat down, and stared at him, and just asked

“What are your powers? Jane can move things , see things and talk to people. The punk girl can make people see things. What are yours?”

Hopper looks unbearably gentle as he says this, his hands rubbing Mrs Byers’ back, his eyes looking soft, the same way he looked at Eleven when she asked him about words.

“ I can manipulate force and pressure. I can’t create it, but I can decrease the force of an object, or increase it. I can also amplify and subdue emotions, but again, they have to be present there, first.”

Hopper just nodded at his slightly slurred speech, and Mrs Byers just sort of sighed, like she hadn’t signed up for this.

Steve shared the sentiment.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Nancy watched as Hopper and Jonathan’s mom came out of the room.

Hopper had the same look that he had had when he had read the papers, the tired and shocked look.

Mrs Byers’ eyes were rimmed with red, and she looked like she had just received another bout of bad news.

She got up, wanting to know what was wrong with Steve, and, dragging Jonathan with her, she walked into the room, just as the doctor said:

‘ Look kiddo, if this continues, you need to come back here, okay? For now we’ll diagnose you with Post-Concussion Syndrome, but you need to come back in two weeks if these symptoms continue, yeah? Otherwise, I think I can discharge you, just sign these papers, and get someone to drive you home.”

She looked over to Steve, who hadn’t seemed to realise that they were in the room.

He ran his hands over his face, and began digging his clothes out from a backpack that Dustin had brought.

“Steve?”

He jolted, and looked up at them, before a smile ( too small, not enough confidence, not enough snark) came upon his battered face.

“ Hey! How are the two monster hunters doing?”

She opened her mouth, them closed it. Jonathan shifted by her side, and looked at her helplessly, as she tried to think about what to say.

It was like everything had been reversed. Here, Steve was supposed to be angry, hurt, or at least frustrated with the two of them.

She had been an awful girlfriend, leaving him out of the loop, telling him multiple times she didn’t love him and then sleeping with another guy before they had officially broken up.

And Steve was here, stitches on his face, his leg covered in gauze, being friendly.

“ Did something happen?”

It hurt to see Steve’s confused and worried face. Breakups weren’t supposed to be like this. Ex-Boyfriends weren’t supposed to care about your well being.

This was a mess
———————————————————————————————————————————
Jonathan Byers had been in many awkward situations in his life.

This certainly went to the top of the list.

Harrington looked like death warmed over, and he was asking how he and Nancy were. They had just eavesdropped as he got what seemed like a pretty bad diagnosis, and to top it all off, Steve was worried about them.

He tried to reply, in a calm and suitable fashion;
‘ Nah, just … you don’t look good. Nancy and I are fine… but the kids weren’t very clear about what happened last night…”

Good, steering conversation away from peoples love lives. Smooth. Calm. Collected

“ There isn’t much to say really. Billy Hargrove came into the house, and wanted to kill Lucas for being friends with Max, I tried to stop him, didn’t work out to good.

Max stabbed him with one of Will’s tranquillisers, and then we all got in the car, and Max… drove us to the pumpkin fields.

We then lit up the centre of the tunnels, to get them away from Eleven, and … yeah.”

He stared at Steve, who seems quite nonchalant about this. Like lighting up tunnels created by another dimension was a casual Saturday afternoon for him.

“ Nancy, get Mike’s ankle checked out. I think one of the vines tripped him up as we ran away”

Here,Steve looked uncomfortable, almost awkward, and it took a while for Jonathan to connect the dots.

Steve wanted to go home, and he couldn’t do that dressed in the flimsy hospital gown.

Ah. So much for smooth, calm and collected.

“ We’ll see you in a bit, Harrington, I’ll get Mike checked out, yeah? So er… bye”

“Well” Nancy said, wringing her hands together as she walked down the glaring hallways “ That was awkward”

———————————————————————————————————————————-
Steve got dressed, mulling over the interaction.

He hadn’t every really dated someone before Nancy. Flirting, kissing etc he knew, but he hadn’t really ever done this before.

He couldn’t be mad at Nancy because, she hadn’t loved him, and he had forced himself to pretend.

So when Nancy had looked wistfully at the Byers car, he did it. For the first time in his knowing of Nancy, he amplified her feelings, so she would do what she wanted to do.

Jonathan had looked awkward, and had tried to cover up the fact that he didn’t know why he was there.

He felt bad about Jonathan.

He had just felt so … so scared when he saw the photographs, knowing that if someone found out, he would be dragged back to the Lab, to more experiments and for more punishments.

And he had gotten so angry when he saw them together, when he saw him in his girlfriends room.

Tommy had spray painted it, and he had felt so annoyed when Nancy couldn’t explain herself.

He had been Bad. Bad like Brenner and Mr Harrington, and then mean assistant which had turned up the intensity of the machines in the “name of science”.

He was a monster.

He didn’t deserve Nancy, but a nice guy like Jonathan did.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Dustin felt his shoulder being shaken, and he rolled away from the touch.

He wanted to sleep, and he didn’t want to go to school today.

When he heard Steve’s voice say, “ Dustin, you’ve been asleep for twelve hours now, come on, lets get some hash browns.”

He jolted up, to see a very welcome sight.

Steve looked different, now. His usually puffed up hair lay slicked back with water, like he had tried to comb it. His face still looked beaten up, but he didn’t have the grey, waxy look that he had had yesterday, and that made all the difference.

He jumped up, expecting Steve to catch him, when suddenly, everything changed.

Steve caught him, but Dustin didn’t understand what was going on, because Steve wasn’t supporting his weight.

The air beneath him was. It was like he was floating, like his weight had suddenly decreased.

He was put down with a thud, like gravity had suddenly been switched back on.

He looked up at Steve, and though he happily chattered about how he needed a hash brown, and how he wanted a tattoo, just like Steve, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something weird had happened.

That something was going on.
———————————————————————————————————————————

They went to the diner, and as Steve still felt sick, he decided to go to the bathroom.

The bathroom didn’t have the strong smells, or the bright lights of the diner, so the pounding in his head, and the churning in his gut finally stopped.

He looked in the mirror, and wondered what he was going to do.

Hopper, Eleven and Mrs Byers knew, now.

And he had been doing so good. He had been using his powers subtly for ages, had waited until his hair was long before seeing people.

He had blackmailed his biological parents into giving him money, and despite his father’s refusal, he had been receiving money from Mrs Harrington four times per year.
The cover story of rich, high-flying but absent parents had worked, and he had made friends with people who didn’t care.

People who were either not smart enough to question Steve’s cover story, or too selfish to think about anything other than themselves.

But being friends with such people meant that you had to fit in. And you had too behave in a certain way, only know or care about certain things.

And now, staring in the dimly lit mirror of a diner bathroom, with crutches at his sides and his face an interesting myriad of blues, reds and purples, with his only friends being at least two years younger than him.

He realised that nothing had changed.

It was the same bruised, same lack of friends his age, same pretending that he was a perfect product of society, as there had been five years ago.

He pondered the doctor’s diagnosis. Post Concussion Syndrome with a possibility of Post-Traumatic Epilepsy.

He hadn’t told anyone about the second part.

Because it turned out that, when you have a seizure whilst having powers; your powers decide to show themselves very strongly.

Steve was absolutely screwed

———————————————————————————————————————————

( Present. New York. In an abandoned warehouse)

“Look Kali, you can’t keep on moping about Shirley.”

muttered Funshine to the forlorn looking twenty-year old

“ I’m not mad about Jane, its just…”

“What?” asked Axel, looking up from his poker game.

“I’m remembering stuff about the Lab?”

“Yeah, and?”

“ I know how everyone died. One died because they over used their powers, like Seven. Three, Four and Nine all died because Three caused a fire to ignite, that took way too long to put out. Two, Ten and Six all were killed when they tried to escape, or when they were no longer useful…
But I don’t remember Five. I don’t remember his dying.”

“ You’re saying that there’s some kid wanderin’ around with powers, like you and Shirley?”

“Yes”

Sunshine swore, knowing the implications. He was about to ask Kali what she wanted to do about it, when an impressive stream of expletives from the other room came out.

“What is it?”

“There have been two sightings of a Mr Martin Brenner in Ohio. He’s back Kali.”

“Get ready everyone. It looks like we are going to find Jane. Get guns, cash and grenades ready. We are going to give them everything we’ve got!”

———————————————————————————————————————————

( The Log Cabin, Hawkins)

Eleven concentrated, trying to find memories of Five, but it was very hard. Her head hurt as she tried to remember, getting only flashes, like Mamma’s memories.

She put the blindfold on, but instead of finding Steve, she found Kali.

“ Jane, I need you to find me. I… I’m not sure how this works, but … Jane.

I was right. Brenner is back, he’s in Ohio, right next to Indiana. Jane, we need your help.

And another thing, Jane. Can you find Five? If… if he’s alive, we will need his help too.

According to Mick, some reports of missing kids have been cropping up.

Jane, please, please help.”

She ripped the blindfold off, and realised that the strip of cloth was damp. Her face was also damp with tears, the salty water mixing with the blood beneath her nose.

She needed to find Steve.

She needed Five.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Nancy sat in the diner, watching as Steve walked, well, hobbled, out of the bathroom.

He looked at her and smiled, and sat next to Dustin, ruffling the kid’s hair until the worried expression turned into one of a rather disgruntled puppy.

She watched as he ordered the food. Dustin ordered the “Deluxe Breakfast Combo”, she had ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and Jonathan has ordered scrambled eggs on toast.

Steve had ordered coffee and toast.

It looked small and pitiful compared to everyone else meals, and she couldn’t ignore the worry settling in her stomach as he turned a pale shade of green after biting into the buttered toast.

But what really concerned her, was that as he turned paler, she could see a bead of blood appearing under his nostril, he kept wiping it discreetly, but the red stain on his blue shirt was hard to ignore.

Everything was strange right now. She was having breakfast with her boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend and her brother’s best friend, and also the town’s police chief.

But, she was sure that she wasn’t supposed to feel this strange. Technically she knew she was feeling awkward.

There was nothing about this that wasn’t awkward.

But despite her brain telling her how awkward it was, she just wasn’t feeling it.

Like awkwardness didn’t exist anymore, but it clearly did because…
She was about to ask Steve if everything was okay ( anything to get rid of the … not-awkwardness ) when Hopper’s phone rang.

“Hello Police Chie— Jane? What? Why do you need Harrington? What do you mean, “Not Now?” Fine, I’ll be there in a bit— yes with Steve! Love you too. Kay. Bye”

She turned to stare at Steve. whom still looked rather pasty and ill, but whom also had a look of concern in his eyes, like he had been expecting this to happen.

Hopper took him, and they both drove away in the truck, Hopper squinting at Steve suspiciously.

Once the truck drew away, the awkwardness flooded back, like a button had been switched back on.

Though paying wasn’t a problem, Steve had already payed, Dustin was staring at them expectantly, when suddenly he frowned.

“Wasn’t Hopper our ride here?”
———————————————————————————————————————————

Jim practically dragged the kid into the log cabin, wondering why Jane wanted him so badly.

Jane had seemed panicked and nervous on the phone, her voice trembling slightly.

Steve had sat in the car, looking out the window anxiously. Though he knew of the kids powers, it was clear that it was a much more complicated story than Jane’s.

It was also clear that he had been using his powers in the diner.

“Kid, what exactly did you do in the diner?”

Steve grimaced, then sighed, like he regretted many things. The look on Steve’s face made him feel odd, like he was talking to a much older person, and yet he was still talking to a child.

“ Didn’t want them to feel awkward.”

“So you… suppressed the feelings of awkwardness”

“Yes”

Jim didn’t know how to manage this. This Steve, seemed different to the Steve which he had heard of.

And suddenly, many things seemed to make sense. From Steve’s lack of knowledge on current affairs and his bad grades, to his limited vocabulary.

It made a lot of sense.

And yet no-one had realised.

———————————————————————————————————————————

“Five”, she said, greeting him as Dad opened the door.

Dad’s eyes widened, before re-al-is-a-tion came in them ( That had been yesterday’s word of the day)

“Hi, Eleven”

He looked nervous. Different. Like how Mike was different with her, to how he was with Max.

She looked at his eyes, and told him what she knew.
“Papa is back. Eight is coming. Help us.”

Dad frowned, whilst Five started pacing.

“You’ve met Kali?”

“Yes”

Five had met Eight before. So they must have known each other.

“How do you know Kali?”

Before Five could answer, Dad spoke.

“Who is Kali, is she… is she Eight?”

Five answered, which made her grateful. She liked not having to explain things.

“ Out of the eleven subjects tested, only three of us survived : Jane, Kali and I. Kali escaped when they moved her to a smaller, less guarded lab, I escaped because I used my powers… and Jane did the same as I did.”

She nodded, smiling as she felt the curls on her head. She liked having long hair. It was pretty.

“Okay, so where is Kali?” asked Five.

“Ohio” she answered.

Five and her stared at Dad, who just sighed and said, like he was very, very tired

“ Steve, take care of Jane. Call me at work if necessary. Take my shotgun and your bat. Jane, check in every day.”

They both steeled themselves when they got in the car, knowing who they were about to face.

Papa.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Chapter Text

Driving with Post Concussion Syndrome is a decidedly bad idea, thought Steve.

It was easy to drive, following directions was fine. It was the glare from the passing cars hurting his eyes, the force he had to reduce of his trembling hands, the nausea as he went in to buy Jane a burger, that really made things difficult.

Jane had apparently talked to Kali on her way there, the rumbling of the car engine serving as white noice, Steve’s scarf acting well as a blindfold.

They were going to meet up behind a supermarket, and figure out what to do.

Apparently, it was a" good idea" to not tell Kali, or her gang about him.

He remembered hearing about Kali’s escape, it had been let slip by his tired and frustrated mother in a phone call, as she told him to lay low because Brenner was angry that two subjects had died, and another had escaped the last month.

When he saw the pretty Asian girl, with her hair short and dark, he knew who she was.

She had escaped.

But he had also felt the anger rolling off of her, the desperation for freedom, the injustice she felt, and he knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay in a small town.

He didn’t say anything, because he wouldn’t know what to say.

He just slipped some cash into her backpack, and next term, everyone was talking about the strange girl two years above with short hair that had only been there for a month.

Tommy and Carol had come up with some rather crude suggestions as to why she had left, which Steve had just ignored.

To blend in, he had to act like them, but he couldn’t quite force himself to laugh.

Jane suddenly said “That way” so he turned, to see a beaten up bus, with loud beats booming out of hit.

He winced at the sound, but the fear in his heart overcame the pain in his head. It was time for the Subjects to reunite

. ——————————————————————————————————————————-

Kali sat in the van, everyone was dancing, banging their heads to the beat of the music when she heard it.

The sound of an engine, which abruptly stopped.

Jane had arrived. Or someone else had.Either way,it was time to prepare,

She motioned for Dottie to turn off the music, and they put the masks on.

She slowly opened the door, and stepped out, to see two figures under the light, leaning on the car. Jane was there, her hair longer, having changed from the tight curls to large waves. She was wearing clean, comfortable clothes, and looked happy, yet apprehensive.

She motioned for everyone to take the maskes off.

Another person was next to her, taller than Kali herself, but was too young to be Jane’s police officer.

He had bruises covering his face, and looked rather unwell, but the look in his eyes shocked her.

It was a look of recognition, like he had seen Kali before.

“Who’s this?” asked Axel, breaking the silence.

“My name’s Steve, but I’m also known as Five.” he said tentatively.

 She frowned, when --It happend was overwhelming, like a door had been opened.

No wonder Jane had been so tired when she was around Kali.

Her head hurt as memories rushed through, of a boy, of the wealthy share-holders that had come in with the toddler.

Of the boy that the lab assistants hated, more than anyone else. She noticed that she was on the ground, her knees having buckled due to the intense headache.

She shakily stood up, and looked at him in the eye, Funshine letting her lean on him.

“You’re alive.” she stated flatly, not knowing what else to say.

“ Tell us what you know about Papa!” hissed Jane, cutting Five—Steve, off.

“Okay, but Rocky here better give us an explanation.” answered Mick ,

and the story began.

———————————————————————————————————————

Steve sat down, and listened.

It felt strange not having to act normal.

To be able to roll up his sleeves  and to hear about the lab and their strange childhood without having Nancy or Mike “sanitising” it for him.

He remembered how hard it had been at first, in the house, in the town.

He had gotten detention after detention, especially with Literature classed because he just couldn’t do the homework.

He remembered having to grow out his hair, and come up with a story as to why he was alone in a house.

Having to fail classes on purpose, just so he could seem stereotypical to the teachers, to avoid questions about having advanced abilities sin some, but being hopelessly behind in others

. But he still felt uncomfortable.

Once he had escaped, he blackmailed one of the directors, into giving him his vacation house and some money, he had largely been able to ignore the first thirteen years of his life

.( The man had been found dead a week later. The death never investigated)

He blamed the sleepless nights on TV shows (not nightmares), pretended to hate hospitals out of stubbornness ( not because it reminded him of the lab), and merely ignored the fact that he sometimes couldn’t breathe when he heard the whirring of electric devices, or when he heard water sloshing in a container.

And now it was all coming back to bite him.

Brenner wasn’t dead.

Kali and Jane couldn’t remember him, due to The Machine.

He hated the machine.

He had been taken to watch, as a blonde woman who had come in, with a gun, had been put into the machine.

Brenner had explained to him, the butt of a handgun pressed to his head as he watched the woman writhe in pain, screaming wildly.

Dial one, messed with any recent memories, blurring them.

Dial two induced pain, and erased certain things, like sensitivity to sound and whole collections of memories.

A combination of both could leave a person in an almost vegetative state.

He had known when he was been threatened, so he had stopped trying to convince his nurses to love the younger children.

He had thought now, that Brenner had died, that the Demogorgon had killed him.

Apparently, when the portal had closed, Brenner had been found.

And apparently, Brenner was re-starting experiments.

But he was using children that hadn’t been born with powers. He was using children, and trying to give them powers.

He sighed, the pain in his head increasing by tenfold, when he felt his hand twitch against the sofa. Oh No. 

. ———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Jane had been watching Steve for a while.

He had been squinting more an more as time went on, and his eyes had occasionally slid shut a few times.

He looked hurt.

But when he suddenly tensed, she was scared. Very scared.

She knew that something was wrong.

His legs and  arms started twitching violently, and Kali looked scared too.

Kali grabbed a pillow putting it under Steve's head, and Axel said some forbidden words.

Words which had made Dad turn the TV off, and giver her a lecture for ages.

She saw how the discarded beer cans in the corner crumpled up to the point of being balls, and saw the way that the pillows lifted upwards.

Everything went strange, Axel’s hair flopped downwards, still stiff, but now pointing to the floor, and Dottie’s hands started shaking, her voice stuttering as she whispered quietly.

She wanted to cry, wanted to ask what was wrong with Steve, when finally, after one and a half minutes (Dottie had been counting), it stopped.

She sobbed, Mick rubbing her back, as his eyes fluttered open.

Kali whispered something to him, and Steve went to sleep.

“Okay” muttered Kali, exhaling sharply.

Then her voice raised and she said, “ Look, he’s injured, and it’ll kind of late for Jane to be up. Jane, you can sleep with me at the front, Mick and Dottie, you sleep in the boot, and Sunshine and Axel, you’re staying with him. Got it!”

No one dared to ask about what had happened.

She followed Kali to the front, and obediently sat down. She remembered the promise that she had made to Dad, so she tapped Kali’s shoulder, and whispered:

“ I promised Dad I would call him. Friends don’t lie. Can I go to the phone?”

Kali sighed, running her hand through her purple hair, which had been newly bleached and painted by the looks of it.

“Fine. But no directions, and no details as to what the van’s like.”

Kali walked her out, and took her to the phone booth. There had been a phone at the super-market, but Kali had said that they needed to be more “vague”. She wasn’t sure what "vague” meant, but she was too tired to ask.

She rang the phone, and waited for Dad to pick up.

“Who is this?”

“Dad?”

“ Oh, Jane, are you okay?”

“ I am checking in. I am okay.”

“Right… take care… and tell Steve to call me in the morning. Love you.”

She said the same, then hung up, looking at Kali’s sad face, she decided to hug her.

As they walked, she felt her legs getting heavier, and she began to yawn She felt a blanket cover her, and she decided to go to sleep.

She didn’t see Kali’s worried expression, or the way she had not been yawning, despite the fact that it was nearing mid-night.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

Steve woke up, dimly remembering someone telling him to go to sleep, to two, rather intimidating men pretending not to stare at him.

The one with the coloured hair, was wringing his hands, and was squinting at the balls of foil in the corner. Balls of metal?

Oh.

It had happened again. he needed to get this under control.

The larger man, looked at him, and rubbing his hand across his face ( sign of frustration, worry or tiredness), he told Steve to sit down and that everyone wanted an explanation.

He wasn’t quite sure what they wanted an explanation about. How Hawkins had turned messy? Who he was? Why he had had a seizure? But he didn’t really want to ask.

He could see the way that the man with the previously spiked hair was forlornly trying to push it back upwards, and the bulging muscles of the man next to him didn’t really invite conversation.

But when he remembered about Eleven, his heart stopped, and he shot up, and stared at the man “Where is Elev—Jane?”

The guy with the coloured hair laughed, and said something about how “freaks worried too much” and how she was “probably fine, somewhere.”

Five didn’t see the way that Funshine swatted Axel’s arm. He didn’t feel the pain in his head, in his chest or in his leg. He just felt worried.

These people were supposed to be protecting Jane. He dug, feeling the emotions around him, and found it. Obedience. In the younger man, it was very small, directed towards Kali, but that could be changed.

He focused, ignoring the gasps, and asked again

“Where. Is. Jane?”

“ She, she went with Kali, to the street market.”

He calmed down, happy that he had gotten what he had wanted, when the man turned to him

“You made me tell you? Didn’t you?” He nodded.

He didn’t like using his powers, especially not for his own benefit, but he needed to know that she was safe.

He didn’t want to fail the girls again.

To be a coward again.

He just couldn’t. Finally, after having the older man’s slightly fearful glances, and the younger man’s glares for about twenty minutes, the door slid open. Jane was here. And Kali wanted an explanation.

—————————————————————————————————————————————

“Explain. First, what has happened in Hawkins.”

Steve, looked up, then his eyes steeled.

His back straightened and he stared forward, not really at anything. It was unnerving.

“ When Jane escaped, she opened a portal to another dimension.

A monster came from it, and the kids called it a Demogorgon. It took three people into the other dimension, a kid, a girl and Dr Brenner.

Jane killed the monster, and we though that the monster had killed Brenner, as well as the girl.

We also thought Jane was dead.

Then, the portal apparently grew bigger, and another monster, a … a Mind Flayer.

It possessed the kid that had gone missing, and created a bunch of tunnels under the ground. It also released a lot of small demogorgons… Demo-dogs.

Jane came back from when she was with you, closed the portal, and the Mind Flayer was burnt out of the kid.

So yeah…”

The gang sat back, staring at the boy. Though it sounded like a fake story, judging by the way that Jane had paled at the retelling, and the way that he had omitted himself from the tale, showed that this was no fairytale.

Kali looked at him, and decided that now was the time to ask. It was pretty obvious that something was wrong with Steve, but that he hadn’t told anyone.

That had to change.

They couldn’t have a surprise in a fight, especially not when Brenner was involved.

“Right.” she said soltly, the gang’s heads turning at the foreign tone, “ But that doesn’t explain how you were involved, or how you got hurt. We need to know everything so that we can fight Brenner.”

Funshine watched as the boy nodded, took a few deep breaths and then spoke.

“ I was pretty useless. I didn’t know what was going on, until I walked into my ex’s friend’s house and saw the Demogorgon, trying to eat them alive. I grabbed a bat, which had nails embedded into it, and hit the monster with it.

I could amplify the force very easily, because of the nails, and managed to injure it, which was why Jane managed to kill it relatively quickly, and why it was so hungry.”

They paused, waiting for an explanation about his injuries, when his face twisted with thought, then lit up.

“ You need to find out where Brenner’s new lab is, right? I live within walking distance of the old, Hawkins lab, and I have a pool which we can use as a sensory deprivation tank. I can talk to some people and get them to tell me where Brenner is, Kali you might have to mask Axel and Dottie, Hawkins is quite small… And I have a way of getting into the old lab.”

Dottie and Axel scowled at the idea of being made to look normal to everyone, but Mick and Jane were scowling for different reasons.

They needed to know what was wrong with Steve, and if he didn’t tell them, this operation could go very, very wrong.

But Kali and Funshine knew that this was a good plan. It would hold for at least the next three days, and then, then the planning would begin.

For real. Because both of them, having been out on the streets for the longest knew that Steve would have to tell them.

They could only hope that it happened before the real battle began.

—————————————————————————————————————————————

Kali sat in the truck, signalling from the window where the van should follow, changing the image of the paint splattered, dented van to one of a large truck, beaten but clearly loved by its owners.

Things like cars were easy. They didn't talk, or move unexpectedly, usually.

She rode in the passenger seat, Steve driving with Jane sitting in the back, pouting at the fact that she hadn’t called “shotgun”.

She should have let the girl pass forward, as she hadn’t really known what it was to call shotgun, but she needed to talk to Steve.

Needed to know why she didn’t remember him.

“ Why don’t Jane and I remember you well?”

“They used The Machine.”

Kali frowned, not remembering a specific machine. There were many machines used on them, to gauge mental ability, to induce senses, to see how their brains reacted to certain stimuli. But it was clear, by the solemn look on Steve’s face, that this wasn’t one of those machines.

“ I only saw it used once, Brenner was black mailing me into not manipulating the nurses’ emotions. If they show you certain pictures, whilst in the machine, the machine will just, blur out the pictures, and any memories with the pictures. I think thats what they did with you…”

Judging by the tone, there was more to the story, but Kali knew not to push.

They continued driving through the woods, when the car screeched to a halt, Jane’s hand stretched out.

“Bad men. We must go now.”

Bullets ricocheted off the van’s and Steve began driving recklessly, efficiently, but with little regard for stop signs, street lights or one-way roads.

   Blood was beading at the bottom of his nose, the bullets merely tapping the windows, where they should have smashed through. Kali focused on confusing hoe road signs looked, and Jane was lifting tree roots and occasionally people off the road to clear the way.

The Battle had come to them.

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

Nancy, Hopper and Joyce met in the small police office.

Hopper gave Joyce a hug, and Nancy hissed to him, anxious despite knowing that Hopper had checked the lights and the phones in the room.

“How did they find us? How am I supposed to explain this to my parents?”

“ I don’t know, sweetie. I just came home, same as you, to find the whole place ransacked, Will’s drawings missing and bugs in the lamps.” hushed Joyce, despite the worried look on her face.

Hopper growled, “ At least you’re houses are common knowledge! I don’t know how they found the cabin, or even who found it!”

“Yeah, Brenner’s dead, isn’t he. This could just be some crazy journalist, couldn’t it. And Jane’s fine, isn’t she. Where was she hiding?”

They both looked up at him, looking for confirmation. He sighed, then wrote down on the paper, knowing that if someone even overheard this convsersation, they could be killed.

“ BRENNER ISN’T DEAD. JANE IS LOOKING FOR HIM, WITH OTHER KIDS. DON’T ASK.”

Joyce sobbed, holding her head in her hands, knowing that explaining this to Will and Jonathan would be almost as painful as hearing the news.

Nancy stared out of the window, wondering what to say to Mike, who would be worried sick.

Hopper walked over to the window, frowning at the sound.

The sound of bullets hitting metal.

Then there, right in front of his eyes he saw it. His truck, license plate missing, being driven at incredible speeds by Steve Harrington, followed by a bizarre looking van, and four expensive black cars, all of which had guns pointed at the truck and the van.

Looking at Joyce and Nancy’s confused and shocked faces, he grimaced, pulling out his shotgun.

“ Well, at least now I know where Jane is.”

They both stared at his face, at the nonchalance.

But he knew that Jane was safe.

The bullets weren’t hitting the car’s with enough force to even dent the cheap metal, despite the expensive guns, and he had gotten a glimpse of Steve’s nose bleed.

Jane was fine. Steve was okay. No one had died.

Now they just had to ensure that the world remained that way.

——————————————————————————————————————————————-

Chapter Text

Dustin was not having the best day of his life.

His mother had spent the whole morning looking for Mews, and asking him about the smell in his room. He didn’t have the heart to tell her what had happened, nor did he want government officials calling up to his house, so he obediently obeyed, and spun a tragic story of a failed experiment.

He even let his curls fall into his face, pulling the puppy eyes.

He wandered the streets, pretending to look for Mews, his face frowning up in concern as he thought about Steve.

The whole debacle had occurred nearly a week ago, and Steve hadn’t checked in with Dustin.

Which was fine, but… Steve hadn’t looked good the last time he had seen him. He had been pale, shaky and bruised, and Dustin couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had been the one to drag Steve into this mess, and it was his fault that Steve had gotten scratched in the tunnels.

He looked up at the screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber permeating the air.

Hopper’s car was being driven, by someone, obviously not Hopper, and was being followed by a weird looking… vehicle. Dustin rubbed his eyes, marvelling as the van shifted from a strange looking, painted van, to a white, simple van.. Weird.

When black cars, guns pointed out of the windows, poised at the truck and the van went by, Dustin swore, the woman in her garden tutting at his long stream of almost unintelligible expletives.

He tried to look, and see who was driving the van, when he dropped the posters. The papers with pictures of Mews fell to the floor as Dustin gaped at the rapidly exiting van.

In the car had been Steve. And El.

He picked up his radio, tuning in to call Mike, Max, Lucas and Will.

“Guys, this is Code Red. I repeat Code Red. El and Steve are being followed by black cars with guns. Everyone, meet at the Station.”

He shut off the answers, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to answer them.

As he trudged to the station, his farcical search for Mews long forgotten, he wondered, curiously.

Why was Steve driving the truck? What did he have to do with all this?

Frowning, he chewed on his nougat bar, hoping that Hopper had the answers.

Mike picked up his radio, hoping that there was a meeting at the Ice Cream Parlour, or a D&D game at someone’s house.

Anything to get away from the frustration at not being able to see El.

When Dustin said “Code Red”, he wanted to sob.

Hadn’t they had enough weirdness this year? Hadn’t El closed the portal? Wasn’t it all supposed to be over?

He walked home, wanting to grabsome spare clothes, his Dad’s gun and some matches.

As he opened the door, a sob did rip out of him.

Someone, some people had been in the house. Tables were tipped over, papers strewn across the floor. The basement looked awful, like something had torn through it. Pillows had been ripped, with a knife, the drawers had all been emptied. And Nancy was missing. El was in danger.

He grabbed his things, the gun, the matches and ran out of the house, adrenaline fuelled rage filling his bloodstream as he sprinted to the police station.

He flung the door open, to see the Byer’s Family, Nancy, and the rest of the Party ( and Max), with Hopper, sitting down.

Nancy.

He ran into her, grabbing her waist and wrapping his arms around her.

Everyone else was safe.

Everyone but El.

Hopper was supposed to be looking after El.

After a year of letting Mike think that she was dead, that the girl who he had found and hidden in his basement was not there, Hopper could at least look after her.

“Where is El?” he growled, not caring that his anger was showing. He wanted to know where she was, know what was happening, wanted to know why she wasn’t being looked after.

“J — El is with Steve, and some other kid from the Lab. Steve is looking after her. They had to go because—“

“Steve? Steve Harrington!”

He felt anger rush through him. He should be looking after her. Not his sister’s useless ex-boyfriend.

“How is Steve Harrington even a choice to look after her? He couldn’t even be a mediocre boyfriend to Nancy, how’s he supposed to protect El? He couldn’t even defend himself from Billy Hargrove ! Why of all people would you chose Steve? He isn’t even part of — part of this! El is in danger!” He was panting, his face flushed and his hear a mess.

He needed to take care of El, and he knew that Steve wouldn’t do a good job. He didn’t like Steve. He didn’t hate him, but he didn’t like him.

Which was why he felt his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach when he heard a familiar voice state

“Well, now that you’ve got that out, we need to come up with a plan. Kali can’t hold on for much longer.”

Everyone turned to the door, to see a strange sight. Steve Harrington, in the middle of this chaos, having just heard the rather un-flattering rant, looking calm and confident.

He heard the whole thing.

But he didn’t butt in because, well the kid wan’t exactly lying , was he? Steve knew he was useless. It wasn’t news.

But he knew that Mike had to let his frustration out, otherwise El would also get angry and… that wouldn’t go down well.

He swung the door open, glancing at Kali’s tired face, her nose and ears bleeding from the exhaustion of masking eight people and two large cars.

He called them all out, ignoring the looks on their faces.

And at least attempting to ignore Dustin, who was chattering away, asking questions like a particularly opinionated bird, his ringlets flying in all directions. He ruffled Dustin’s hair until the expression of worry and curiosity changed to one of a rather annoyed puppy. it worked every time.

He lead them back out, and whispered.

“ Mini Wheeler, Will, Sinclair and Dustin, all of you get into Hopper’s truck, with El , Kali and me. Hopper, Mrs Byers, Nancy and Jonathan, all get in with Axel, Mick Dottie and Sunshine. Once we get into a safer spot, we will explain, Got it!”

He limped over to the truck, his leg throbbing as he tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt. It was unusually warm for it to be November, but he wasn’t bothered.

He would deal with it later. He was good at dealing with things later. Only sometimes, later never happened. That wasn’t really a problem.

He climbed into the car, curling his hands into fists to try and stop their shaking, and looked gratefully at the setting sun.

The pain in his head whenever he looked too closely at anything more than dimly lit would soon fade.

He nodded to Kali, who slumped as she finally let the trucks be visible, the darkness working to mask everything. He smiled, slightly nostalgically when he saw Mike and Jane curled up in the back, their hands wrapped round each others waists.

He failed to stifle a laugh, which shot pain through his ribs as he saw Dustin’s grumpy expression at the fact that he was sandwiched between Lucas and Max and Mike and El.

Will was quietly peering at Kali, marvelling at her brightly coloured hair. He drove off, pushing everything into the back of his mind as he hoped that he was leading them to as safer place.

   He and Kali had decided that they would tell everyone about what was going on the next morning, not wanting to overload everyone with the horrific information, so he let himself relax, just for tonight.

Being single, decided Dustin at the mature age of fourteen, sucked.

Will and he were trying to talk over the sounds of Lucas and El professing their admiration and love for their respective partners, who were in turn, turning an amazing shade of red.

He gave a sigh of relief when the truck stopped, the stars beginning to shine brightly.

He walked out, chatting with Will about whether Spock would beat Professor X in a fight ( obviously no, duh), when he paused.

In fact, everyone paused, including the strange people.

They were in the middle of a forest. Like in the actual ‘middle” middle.

“Are we lost?” he asked, wondering if head injuries had other repercussions.

Then Steve looked back at everyone bewildered faces, and said “Wait here. I’ll be back in a second.”

Steve limped off, his arm cradled towards his chest, and despite Dustin's frustration at being kept out of the loop, he couldn’t ignore the disquieting cold in his gut that told him that Steve… that Steve wasn’t okay.

He watched at Mike’s mouth opened and closed, like a rather outraged fish, and as the gang (?) glanced at themselves uncertainly.

A few minutes later, they turn around as a thud sounded. He raced forward, wondering what on earth was going on, to see an odd sight. He heard the Party, Nancy and Jonathan panting next to him, all staring as Steve pulled blankets, tents and food rations out of a box in the ground.

“Right, we have three tents. Kali, I’m assuming you and the gang will sleep in one. Mike, you and the party will sleep in the other, with me. El, you sleep with Hopper, Mrs Byers and Max. Nancy, Jonathan… choose whatever.”

No-one dared to ask why Steve had a camping stash in the woods. No one mentioned the awkwardness between the three older teenagers, or the way that Steve had pointedlyomitted an explanation about what on earth was going on.

As Steve hobbled around, trying very badly to disguise his limp whilst handing everyone under the age of 16 ( which also included the girl with the crazy hair, apparently) ration-pack brownies and beef jerky, that were surprisingly fresh. Dustin frowned.

The woman with the purple hair, El and Steve seemed to be caught in a silent conversation, like they were trying to convince him to do something.

Hopper and Will’s mom were also looking at Steve with a similar look laced with concern.

Dustin shook it off, catching Steve looking over everyone, like an obsessive mother hen, using his long shaggy hair, still stiff with hairspray to ignore the looks he was receiving. Steve quickly talked to Hopper and … Kali?, then stood up, the orange fire making the purples and blues of his face stand out strikingly

“Right, everyone has eaten. Go to your tents , ask for extra blankets if you need to. I will be taking first watch, then Kali, then Hopper. Sleep, because we need to be up early tomorrow!”

Dustin followed into the blue tent. He placed his jacket under his head, then wrapped himself up in his blanket, sandwiched between Jonathan Byers and Lucas, he fell asleep worriedly staring at Steve’s slouched back at the opening of the tent.

Mike couldn’t sleep.

This wasn’t new.

But usually after a glass of hot milk and a quick check that Holly, Nancy, Mom and Dad were safe, he could go back to sleep.

Here, hiding in the woods, knowing that they were in danger, he couldn’t do any of those things.

He had watched as Steve had gone to wake the strange lady, and then had fallen asleep at the edge of the tent, almost outside the opening.

He saw as a small hand shot into the tent.

El.

He looked at her soft brown eyes, and stepped over Steve’s legs, into the open.

She looked beautiful. Her brown curls shrouding her head, her eyes staring at him kindly. He sat next to her, sitting in companionable silence, leaning against the tent. He felt El relax against him, and relished at the warmth seeping through him, despite sitting in the dark, damp forest.

He felt himself yawn, when he was shoved forwards, movement inside the tent pushing against him.

He opened up the tent, Dustin’s flashlight illuminating the place as he had refused to turn it off.

Steve was having a nightmare. That… was unsetting, but not what shocked Mike. Sure, watching someone twist and turn, screaming out in their sleep wasn’t fun, but what he saw and felt was so, so much worse.

It was like the tent was acting on its own.

The tent puffed up, like it had been filled with air, blankets wrapping against whatever surface they were on. The abandoned half-eaten brownie began floating upwards, sticking to the roof of the tent. And it was like a punch to the gut when he walked in.

The anger, the despair, the love for El, the worry all came to the surface, his knees buckling at the intensity of the emotions.

He wanted to scream, when Steve’s kicking brought him back to reality.

El had crouched against Steve's form, and was softly stroking his hair. As Steve’s nightmare seemed to fade away, everything went back to normal.

The brownie fell with a soft thud, the tent returning to its concave triangle shape as the blankets released the objects and the emotions receded.

He was about to speak, when El covered his mouth, and showed him Steve’s arm, her finger to her lips, indicating that he had to keep what she was showing him secret.

A small bird was there. A tattoo, but El traced three numbers on top of it, a sense of dread and shame filling Mike as he connected the dots.

Mike went to sleep, with the knowledge that he would have to keep this secret, couldn’t betray Steve’s or more importantly, El’s trust. Couldn’t tell anyone that Steve was one of Them.

Steve woke up, shaking off the memories of the nightmare last night, regretting it as his head ached at the rapid movement.

But at least the light stabbing into his eyes made him forget the sound of children screaming, momentarily.

He looked up, to see a very sweet sight. The Byers boys were curled around each other, rather protectively, whilst Mike, Lucas and Dustin were in a very sweet puppy dog pile, legs flopped over arms, Mike cuddling Dustin’s mop of hair like it was a teddy bear.

He stretched, ignoring the aches and pains, wondering absentmindedly if he could find a Tylenol somewhere, anything to get rid of the awful sensation of someone trying to crack his head open.

He looked out, to see that Hopper and Mrs Byers were already up, caught together in what looked to be a rather intimate conversation.

He proudly looked at the tents, remembering collecting them the Autumn he turned thirteen.

He had realised that the winter was going to be harsh, and that he couldn’t live in the makeshift house made of wood and sticks in the snow again, wouldn't survice again. So when camping season had begun, he had learnt how to steal.

When he had celebrated his thirteenth birthday, he had remembered the first year, the first winter of freedom, before the tents, watching as his fingers turned blue, his thin , stolen clothes doing very little to protect him against the icy snow. He remembered having to bury himself in the snow, when search dogs were sent, feeling the cold seep into his bones, having the cough that lasted for almost two months after the incident. So when winter started coming round the next year, he had gotten smart.

Wealthy families always brought spares, especially when they went to this remote part of the forest, and Steve used these spares, these precautionary items to build up his stock. Every year, since then, he had added to the stock, just in case.

Coming back to the present, he blinked to look at the expectant faces of Nancy and Jonathan.

Hmm. He knew he had been spacing out more than normal, but hadn’t ever completely lost a conversation before.

“Sorry, what was the question?”, he croaked, grimacing at his hoarse voice.

They both frowned, like he had said something terrible, like ask where he was

“We were wondering if you were okay. You’ve been standing there, staring at nothing for about five minutes.” stated Nancy, slowly and gently, like he was an unusually un-intelligent deer.

“I’m fine, and we’ve got to plan. I just spaced out a bit, ‘kay”

He walked off, slowing his pace to ensure that it didn’t look like he was running away from them.

Throughout breakfast, Mike’s eyes kept flicking to him, then to Jane and Kali.

The two “responsible” adults had decided to sit next to him, and kept urging him to eat more, but he didn’t want to tell them that if he ate more, he would puke.

Today wasn’t going well, at all.

He stood up, leaving half of his ration pack behind, when Axel grabbed him, and shoved him down, Nancy ushering the kids back into the tent.

“We need to talk, Rocky.” Hopper nodded, and Joyce went, grabbing a first aid kit.

“ I don’t know why you’re doing this, Kid, but you need to be checked out. You aren’t well, and we need to make sure you’re okay before we can begin planning, right.”

Steve tried to struggle, when Hopper said, “ Calm down, Kid, this is for your good. For the good of everyone.”

   And the forest turned into the lab, as he was frozen, Brenner staring down at him.

Nancy heard Hopper say those words, expecting Steve to calm down, and to let them help him.

Those three minutes , in the morning of watching Steve stare into space, like he couldn’t hear Jonathan and her, like he wasn’t aware that he was shaking all over.

Like he wasn’t there. 

They had been terrible

But the reaction to those words that came out of Hopper's mouth would stay ingrained into Nancy’s mind forever.

Steve’s eyes glazed over, unseeing, and Kali had suddenly shouted to everyone to get back.

She hadn’t understood, until she felt herself pushed back, by an invisible force. Like a gale of wind had materialised from nothing.

Hopper was pushed back, El barely stopping him from colliding into a tree.

Oddly, Kali, Dustin, El and Mrs Byers weren’t affected, but everyone else was hit by the invisible force.

Then the emotions came. It was awful, everything, the fear, the guilt, the nerves of the last three weeks came front, she vaguely felt Mike rubbing her back as she coughed, the force of the emotions being physically painful.

It wasn’t just her. Everyone was either trying to hide the tears streaming down their faces, or were shaking with effort to hide the intensity of the emotions.

Then she stared at Steve, who was loosing the empty, shell-shocked look from his eyes, blinking confusedly.

He gasped, wiping the blood from his nose, stutteded out an apology then ran off in a sprint.

Everyone gaped at the empty space left by the feverish teenager, before Eleven spoke.

“We need to find Five.”

And then chaos erupted.

Chapter Text

Jonathan sat there, sitting on the damp leaves, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

Steve had panicked after Hopper had spoken, which was strange, but Jonathan had just assumed that Steve had a fear of needles, or that he thought that his health wasn’t important.

But then, then Steve’s eyes had suddenly shifted from a glazed panicked look, to an intense terrified look, one that reminded him of a wounded feral dog. The next thing he had known, he was being pushed back, flying two metres back, hitting the forest floor with a soft thud. He had struggled to get up, when his eyes began watering. He needed to find Will, kiss Nancy and help his mom. He just wanted to run away from this, from this mess of dimensions and despotic governments.

When he looked up, Steve was blinking, horrified. His hoarse voice croaked out an apology, before the boy sprinted off into the forest.

Kali’s gang looked almost nostalgic, shocked but not surprised by the outcome. Eleven was refusing to meet anyones gaze. The “Party” were all shouting at each other.

Will and Lucas asking echother what had happened, Max looking like she wanted to cry, and Dustin staring, open mouthed at where Steve had been sitting. He brushed himself off, taking in Nancy’s pale, trembling form, and asked:

“Did… did Steve do that.”

Kali and Eleven looked up, and in unison stated, “Yes.” It was eerie how calm and collected they were about this.

Kali and Funshine went to talk to Hopper and Mom. Leaving everyone under the age of eighteen standing there, without knowing what on earth had just happened. Eleven announced, her back straightening as she took an authoritative tone,

“Get in the tent. I will explain.” And she did.

She told them that Steve, Steve Harrington the popular jock that had appeared the first day of high school, with his long hair and blunt speech, was one of Them.

That Steve had spent a third of his life in a lab, being experimented on, and that Steve had powers, just like Eleven.

It just didn’t make sense. How could he, Jonathan Byers who had spent his life surrounded by people be the social outcast, whereas someone who had spent their life as an object, as an experiment could assimilate himself into society so quickly.

The tent flap opened, his mom’s solemn face staring at them as she uttered “ We are going to stay here. Axel and Mick will go to the town and find out what is going on, we will stay here, safe until we have more information, okay.”

She walked out, before they could answer.

Eleven looked up, then, once his mom had left she said “No. No. We won’t stay here. Papa is building a new lab, and has already kid-kidn- stolen some other kids. We need to go now. We need to find Five. Five is in Danger of the Bad Men”

So they began to plan how they would take down the lab, and find Steve. In the chaos, Steve had run away and he was alone, injured and vulnerable in the woods. As guilt and determination settled over the tent, a plan began to form.

Steve ran, his chest burning, his head feeling like someone had pored in heavy concrete, and was trying to drill through it.

He was tired. So, so tired. Yet he kept running, he couldn’t quite remember why he was running, but he knew he had to. To keep them safe from him.

He wondered, wiping the blood from under his nose as he stopped, swaying, who “them” were.

He supposed he should know, really.

He also supposed that the world wasn’t supposed to tilt like this.

Steve woke up, minutes later, leaves having been kicked around, his eyelids sluggishly working to stay open. This was the third seizure in a week.

Steve sucked at Biology, his teachers could affirm that, but he was pretty sure that this frequency of seizures wasn’t good news. Especially now that he was alone, lost in the forrest, and could barely keep his eyes open, let alone walk.

He heard the sound of feet squelching against the ground, struggling to get his eyes fully open, he heard himself sigh in dismay. The reaction would have been more dramatic if he weren’t so tired. The proud faces of Martin Brenner, and a few of the most determined and heartless lab assistants approached him, Steve not able to do more than blink.

Nevertheless, they plunged a needle into his neck, his body finally losing the battle against consciousness, after a week of not being able to take pain meds, using his powers for the first time in ages, and the obvious head trauma problems.

What he presumed was a few hours later, he surfaced from the comfortable blanket of darkness. Blinking at the glaring halogen lights, the three cameras in the room observing him as he stared, almost nostalgically at the locked steel door.

He tried to hold back a sob as he felt his shaved head, and the thin, sterile t-shirt and track suits which had “ Government-Research Subject” embroidered into them.

He failed, tears dampening the cotton as his fingered traced the embriodered letters, that burned into his skin.

Nancy sat in the truck, guiltily watching as Jonathan came back with Hopper’s keys.

They had spent ages debating whether to tell the adults, but finally, that had sadly concluded that the adults wouldn’t help them.

Max and Eleven were sat in the back, finally marching towards friendship, bonding over their missing boyfriends.

Lucas, Dustin and Mike were looking for Steve, they would come back within the next half-hour with news, hopefully good news in the form of Steve.

Will was contentedly asking Dottie, the girl from the punk gang which had been rapidly assimilated into the group, about her hair. To be fair, the girl’s hair looked like an alien creature, and Jonathan chuckled as he handed his brother some paper, which was quickly snatched as a similar looking monstrosity of hair began to form on the blank page, crayons that had been rotting in the boy's pockets flying over the paper.

As they waited, Nancy thought about Steve.

She loved Jonathan, she knew that. Jonathan was sweet, was open and didn’t have awful friends. Jonathan had no problems with loving her, and being open about it. And Steve was content with being friends. But she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her gut as she realised that Steve’s odd, sometimes mean behaviour might not have just been a product of his “King Steve” persona.

Him smashing the camera ( hiding from the government), him panicking about police officers in his house ( lack of parents, police officers in his house), even his understated and strange reaction to Barb’s death ( this wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen to him, nor the first tragedy). These things had made her self-righteous, feel that she was the one with the higher moral tone. She had never throught to ask why he had behaved like that, she had just assumed.

Nancy had prided herself with her “ability” to read people, taking AP Psychology, and giving advice to her friends. How had she not realised that the guy she was dating, the guy she had dated for a whole year, had such a messy background, had such a brilliant facade? And she had been awful to him.

She had told him that he was nothing, that their relationship was nothing, and assuming that it was over, had begun dating another guy without properly breaking up with him. Sure, she had been drunk when she had said those things, and she had basically broken up with Steve afterwards… but she couldn’t get Steve’s eyes out of her head.

She couldn’t erase the way that those hazel eyes had stared at her, broken as she swore at him. She felt that the way that he had gently smiled at her as he said “It’s okay.” was burned into her.

So when the boys come back, pale faces and frightened eyes, she feels her bones turn to steel. As Mike speaks of men with lab-coats marching off, carrying someone on a stretcher, her blood turns to fire. Jonathan drives off, Nancy kisses him on the cheek, and makes her decision.

She is going to make this right.

She will not be another person who used Steve.

Nancy Wheeler will  help save Steve Harrington, and will be a good friend to him.

He receives food.

Funnily enough, they haven’t changed Steve’s punishment meals.

It turns out they still remember his hatred of oatmeal. Steve spoons the grey, chewy mixture into his mouth, wondering if oatmeal is supposed to be this bland.

He finally finishes the stodgy bowl, when Brenner walks in.

“It is good to have you back, Five. You’ve had your fun, now it is time for you to be useful again. Today, we will gauge how your powers have developed. Firstly, I want you to turn this door into a ball. You will be given five minutes before… encouragement begins.”

He knows how this works.

He wishes he could be King Steve right now, charming grin, hair prayed hair and careless, dominant attitude. But now, covered in bruises, in a hospital gown, given orders, he is Five.

So he tries. He concentrates on the gravity pulling the steel down, he feels the air particles pushing at the sides of the door. He feels the force of the air rushing at the door as someone walks past. He looks up, stars in his eyes from the strain, to see a door with a slight curve. He grimaces at Brenner's disappointed expression, and tries not to shiver at the curel grins of the observers.

He tries harder, and digs deeper, blood rushing to his ears, as he feels the way that the particles vibrate, and almost begs them to vibrate in his direction. He hears a gasp, when he looks to see that some of the door has melted. A few drops of liquid steel run down the door, almost in mimicry of the blood pouring out of his nose.

Another man comes in, taser in hand. Steve knows what is coming. Apparently his five minutes are up. The rod burns against his arm, and he tries to be King Steve. He doesn’t cry out.

“ You have two options. Tell us where Eleven and Eight are, then we will let you rest until tomorrow.Or, experiments can continue.”

“Shut Up!” yelled Steve, sweat pouring from his face as the man approached him yes again, taser in hand.

As he gasped from the pain, Brenner tutted disappointedly, “It seems that you have barely improved since the last time you were in my care. In thirty minutes, I will be back to take you to the Tank. Be prepared.”

King Steve would protest, punch and swear like a sailor. But all Five can do now is mournfully rub the burns on his arm, as he prepares to go to the place that haunts his nightmares, and oppresses his daydreams.

He hasn’t had a bath in nearly six years, and he has never had his head go under water in the pool, never floated on it, just jumped into the shallow end and splashed, relishing at the sounds and sensations. He glanced at the beige swimming costume to his right, bracing himself for what was to come.

It was time to be brave.

Dustin sat in the car, his heart thumping against his chest as he remembered the stretcher.

The person on there hadn’t been moving. Steve hadn’t been moving.

Steve, his babysitter, who really needed to read more, and who was the most dull person, although the coolest, had powers.

No wonder he had been so calm about Dart.

Steve, who might be dead now, the guy who had given him hairspray and had smacked Demo-dogs with his awesome bat, was quite possible dead.

And Dustin was here, sat in this truck which had nowhere to actually go.

“Stop the car!” he yelled, anything to cut off the silence.

He had a plan. He just hoped it would work.

“Jon’than give me your camera, and any photos you have with you.”

He opened backpack which had been tossed at him, ignoring the questions from his friends.

Pictures of Nancy, more pictures of Nancy, a picture of Will and Mrs Byers…. aha! A picture of Steve sat there, at the bottom of the bag .

Steve was looking away, his face beaten up. This was clearly taken the night after the Gate had closed.

He handed it to El, and just told her: “ Steve’s been taken to the new lab, you can use this photo to find Steve, and therefore the lab, right?”

She nodded, her curls bouncing around her head.

Nancy fiddled with the radio until it turned to static, Dottie pulled a blue ribbon ( rag?) out of her hair and handed it to El, who unfolded it, wrapped it around her head, and held the picture in her hands.

At first, it was like normal. A bead of blood appeared under her nose, and her eyebrows furrowed.

But when the rag turned damp, tears pouring out from underneath it, Mike pulled it off, hugging her as she shook with sobs. Dustin felt like sobbing too, knowing that this outburst most likely did not bode well for Steve.

. She rattled out an address, and wouldn’t tell anyone what had made her cry, apart from shakily uttering: “The Bad Men have Steve. Steve is not Okay.”

After hearing that, everyone felt the accelerator pedal being pushed down.

They had to find Steve. NOW .

Jonathan had never driven like this before.

He had always driven slowly, or when on a motorway, he had strictly stuck to the speed limit, not including the time when his mom had found Will.

He apologetically passed the speed signs, maintaining his foot down on the pedal, going as fast as he could without endangering everyone. Halfway there, they had stopped.

Despite the worry, the guilt and the determination that was clear in everyone’s faces, they had to take a break.

Sure, they got weird looks, passers by frowning at the group of dirty, sweaty teenagers gulping down overly-syruped waffles at ten thirty in the morning. But really, Jonathan couldn’t find it within himself to care.

They spent half an hour there, the girls all washing their faces in the bathrooms, the boys all eating any waffle remnants from Nancy’s plate. ( Eleven had eaten her waffle faster than anyone, then had amicably eaten some of Max’s one.)

When they got back in the car, they spent another two hours driving, before Jonathan saw it. He took a quick picture of it, knowing that it would be helpful when explaining this to his Mom.

The idea was that he would go with Max, Lucas , Eleven and Dustin, to try and figure out what was going on, and perhaps find Steve. Nancy, Mike, Dottie and Will would try and find out what the locals knew about this place, and what they knew of Martin Brenner, whilst also knowing the code word for them to act as a distraction.

He kissed Nancy, smiling at her as he snuck into the building, Max inexplicably knowing how to pick locks was helpful, but worrying.

They tiptoed down, looking at the rooms, Dustin scribbling down the directions they had taken, so they would know the way out. They saw a few labs, full of data and harried looking scientists, they fortunately didn't look up from their test tubes, or their data sheets.

It was unsettling, but Jonathan felt his heart stop when they came to the second floor. They had looked into the room, because Eleven had said that it was “Noisy.”

Inside were three children,three babies, the oldest being eighteen months old at the most. One of them was crying, pawing at his arm which had a recent  looking tattoo on it. “012”

Jonathan suppressed the urge to gag at the raw skin on the baby’s arm, tainted with inflamed blue numbers. He turned to see Lucas cradling the youngest one, which can only have been six month old in his arms.

“She cried until I took the drip off her. The drip reads that its supposed to intensify reactions to stimuli.” uttered Lucas mournfully as the baby gurgled in his arms.

Jonathan made a decision. Whilst Steve was in danger, these babies were even more vulnerable. They would have to find Steve another day. He hoped he was doing the right thing as he ordered Dustin to take this baby, as he took hold of the largest one, which still was wriggling, clearly unused to being picked up.

As they quickly ran out of the building, carrying three babies between them, Jonathan prayed that Steve was okay.

And pondered just how Nancy would react when she saw the children.

All that was certain was two things. Steve was in the hands of heartless monsters, and that he wanted to be friends with Steve once he was rescued; but also that he had no clue what to do with these babies.    The teachers had banned him from taking Home-Econ, stating that it was " for girls to become good housewives, not something that a nice buy like you should worry about, hmm?". He drove to the store, hoping that a group of teenagers bying baby-formula wouldn't attract too much attention.

Jim knew something was up.

Those kids had been quiet for way, way too long. He waked over to the tent, ignoring Mick’s affronted look as he left mid-sentence.

He opened the flap, expecting to see that they had formulated a plan, or that they were all taking a hunger strike until they were allowed to go to Brenner’s lab.

He knew the they had been debating over what Axel and Mick would do one in Hawkins of over two hours, but he doubted that the kids would have fallen asleep.

The tent was empty, only blankets and pillows, plus some discarded candy wrappers littering the floor.

Not a single child was in sight. He yelled for them, screaming out their names, and soon, the rest of the people were also shouting names.

“Where’s Dottie?” “My oh Will, oh I hope Jonathan’s with him!” “ Where’s Jane, Hopper?”

It was a few minutes before everyone stopped shouting, muttering and lamenting the disappearance of the teenagers.

Kali suddenly spoke, “They’ve taken you’re truck, Chief. My best bet is that they’ve gone to the new lab, in Ohio.”

As Kali told Joyce, poor sweet Joyce who had already been through enough, of the news. Jim decided to prepare.

Jane was in danger.

So were all of those reckless, idiotic, heroic kids.

It was time to save all of Indiana from the real monster.

The monster that had created the Demogorgon, the Demo-dogs, and the Mind Flayer.

It was time to save the world from Martin Brenner.

Chapter Text

Steve hated the sensory deprivation tank, even before Dustin had explained to him that the Demogorgon had used the tank to break into this dimension.

Eleven had described it to him, once, when she had been six years old, what happened in her brain. She said that it was like standing in a dark room, but that you could find people in the room, sometimes. That was nothing like what it was for Steve.

He stepped onto the ladder, the warm water lapping at his ankles as they secured the oxygen mask around his shoulders. He floated there, peacefully, bracing himself for what was to come. The light was shut out, and Five was left there.

The orders were to find emotions.

He stood there, in the paper blank expanse, soft carpeted ground cushioning his feet. Emotions. Hmm. He picked … Anger.

Happiness wouldn’t do, Brenner wouldn’t relate, and anything to do with fear, anxiety or sadness would be too painful. And it appeared.

He had seen it once, a few months before his escape, as a small blob in the distance. Now it was close up, a few metres away from him. It… wasn’t human.

It had reddish skin, thick veins protruding from its body. It had silvery grey teeth, sharp like knives. It snarled and growled indecipherably, and seemed to be wearing a strange fusion of a charcoal suit, and a bronze warrior armour, a black tie resting over a breastplate, the bronze with pinstripes of silver running down it.

Five tried to speak to it, anything to block out the terrifying snarls and screeches.

“ Who are you?”

It howled, so loud that Steve’s ears hurt and he curled himself up in the water to get away from the awful sound.

Water. Light blinded him as he climbed onto the ladder, and his jaw fell open when he saw what was going on, one of the lab assistants gripped his arm as she , too gaped at the carnage, before jumping down and joining in, her face twisting in fury.

It was like a war had begun.

Beakers were smashed on peoples heads, threats ringing out across the halls as he was walked to his room.

The further away he got from the tank, the more the brawl died down, simmering down to mere glares.

Brenner entered an hour later, bruised knuckles and a skewed tie as he grinned, coldly.

“I see you found anger. I think that you are much more powerful that we thought. You will be very, very useful.”

Steve wrapped himself in the towel, gasping back sobs as he realised that he had caused this.

That he was the monster of this lab.

Nancy was amazed at the stories that people had of “Dr Brenner, such a lovely doctor.”

. Apparently he was here, using the lab to explore types of cancer therapies, and gave regular donations to soup kitchens.

She almost believed it until she glanced at Mike’s glares and  remembered Will’s ordeal. It became harder to believe when she came back to the car.

Jonathan was in the passenger seat, feeding a small infant a lukewarm bottle of baby formula.

Before she could ask, he sighed.

“ They were locked up in a room, wires and needles sticking out of them, Nancy. They’ve all got tattoos like Eleven. I… I couldn’t leave them there, they can’t even talk. The oldest one doesn’t know what to do with the toys, and isn’t used to being picked up. Nance, I had to do something .”

She wordlessly took hold of the largest baby, the tattoo on his arm burning into her eyes as he confusedly wriggled in her arms.

Mike had taken one of the babies from Lucas, and El was curiously observing the baby girl.

They looked up as a window from the lab smashed, glass shattering over the ground as they saw how mugs, beakers and the occasional notebook was tossed out of the window.

Dustin frowned,

“ What the— Aren’t these people supposed to be super calm. Whats causing this?”

Eleven frowned, then her eyes rounded, tears threatening to spill over.

“Steve. They are using Steve. Steve is hurt.”

Dustin cursed, quickly quieting down as one of the babies began whimpering.

They couldn’t keep calling them “the Big Baby, The Girl,or the Little One.”

Names.

Right.

She decided on calling the oldest baby John, the baby girl Barbie and the squealing infant Robbie. They were sweet names. No one mentioned to fact that Jonathan, Barb and Bob might have something to do with those names.

Eleven stated that these babies have no powers, which was a relief to everyone in the truck.

But the knowledge that Steve is being used, possible tortured as they sit there cradling gurgling children in their arms, ensured that the atmosphere remained heavy with guilt.

 Brenner had sunk down to a new level of eveil, it seemed.

Steve had been refused food, and had been given limited water per day, plus the repeated experiments.

All because he wasn’t telling them where Eleven and Eight were.

Brenner had come in, screaming to Steve about lost subjects, the ruining of projects and how Steve was now his only hope.

On one hand, this was good. The kids which he had seen as he was dragged from lab to lab were hopefully being taken care of, which meant that someone was trying to sabotage the lab.

On the other hand, it meant that everyone in the building spent their time on Steve, the after effects of the Anger he had released being showed in punches, extra experiments and punishments.

He had had another seizure last night. Not a single person had come to help. He had just trembled and flinched, his ribs painfully hitting the sided the hard bed until finally the tremors stopped.

It was hard being Steve, being King Steve was almost impossible right now.

King Steve would fight and punch and kick his way out, a charming smile on his face as he stormed out of his prison.

Steve would yell and protect his friends.

Five just sat on the bed, shivering through the newest experiment.

The idea was that his powers with force could be used to increase the temperature of the room. It was gradually getting warmer, having gone from 0*C to 5*C, but his finger tips were blue, and the man over the intercom was threatening to lower the temperature back down.

He closed his eyes, begging that this would work.

He pretended that the man shouting was white noise and focused.

Air. Cotton. Okay he had oxygen, he had his fuel, but now he had to create the heat… physics, physics…. increasing vibrations, de—delo—delocalising electrons. He had to increase the heat enough that the oxygen would use the cotton as fuel.

He grabbed the bedsheets, and stretched his hand toward it, feeling blood pump through his veins, when he felt it.

Fire.

His bed was on fire.

And the  reading on thethermometer on the wall was increasing.

His head was pounding, his nose bleeding and he just wanted to lie down in the warmth.

But they hadn’t asked for fire.

He had been Bad.

He had to be punished.

Later that night, as he lay on the cold floor of his cell, his bed having been taken away as a punishment, he closed his eyes and begged for El to find him.

He didn’t know how long it would be before he would be killed for his disobedience, just like his roommate when he had been eight.

He didn’t want to die.

Joyce Byers was not a woman to be trifled with.

She had stormed into the van, snatched the keys out of Kali’s hand, and began to drive, everyone jumping in.

“You said Ohio. We will ask around for any new hospitals, science laboratories or energy companies in Ohio. We are finding my sons, and then we will take down Brenner. Understood!”

Whilst Hopper chuckled, the punks sheepishly looked down, and tried to look as defiant as they could as they all responded with a unanimous

“Yes, Ma’am”

She needed to find Will, Jonathan, and needed to help Steve and Jane.

Brushing her auburn hair from her face she drove, ordering Kali to make the paint-splattered van look like a police car.

She didn’t stop her adrenaline fuelled drive until she reached Ohio, despite Hopper’s kind but bothersome protests at her prolonged driving.

They stopped at a gas station, and Hopper delegated orders. Axel and Sunshine would guard the van and Mick and Kali would ask about a Dr Brenner, whilst herself and Hopper would ask about any engird companies, labs or hospitals.

She took off, looping Jim’s arm around her waist as she approached the nearest supermarket.

She spotted a young man holding a baby, probably a new father. She walked unto him and tapped him on the shoulder, before her jaw hung loose.

Jonathan.

Jonathan was in Ohio.

Jonathan was here, in Ohio holding a baby.

He pulled her to a side, Hopper coming along, obviously wanting to ask about Jane, but too shocked to form the words.

“I can’t speak here. We will meet up at the Family Motel, and there we will explain. Do you think you could take John with you?”

He handed Jim the baby, before running off. Joyce ran back to the van, ignored the men’s bewildered looks as they caught sight of the baby and drove.

She eventually found Mick and Kali, both admitting to not having found much more than some lies.

She was tired of lies.

Tired of disappearing children.

Tired of innocent people being caught up in a megalomaniacs plans.

Joyce Byers was tired. Apparently the baby— John was tired too, wailing quietly in Hopper’s arms. After asking around, they found the motel, secluded in a small neighbourhood. They arrived at the motel, and prepared themselves for the onslaught of information

Dustin opened the door when he saw Mrs Byers face through the peephole.

And, as El and Mike were sleeping on the couch, Nancy and Jonathan were taking care of Robbie, and everyone else was cooing over Barbie, he took it upon himself to explain.

It wasn’t nice explaining this sort of thing. He had the same feeling in his mouth as when he had told Steve that Dart had eaten Mews.

He breathed in, before speaking,

“Basically, the new lab is pretending to be a Cancer research centre run by the government. The babies were found in one of the lab rooms, and they were going to be given powers, like they were going to see if they could give them powers using drugs, electricity… that sort of thing. We decided to take them, but we didn’t manage to find Steve. El says that Steve’s in danger so we are going to go tomorrow.

Hopper, Jane is with Mike over there.

Mrs Byers, Will is with Lucas and Dottie.

Punk people, Dottie is with Barbie.”

Kali went to El, and they talked in hushed voices, before coming to an agreement.

Kali announced, ‘ I’m going with El tomorrow to find Steve. Tonight we will go and buy small radios so we can talk to each other.”

Dustin, to be honest felt a bit put out. He wanted to help find Steve and save him.

After all, it was his fault that Steve was injured during all of this. Dustin liked Steve. He was cool and had helped Dustin without asking questions.

He had saved them all in the tunnels. Steve was Dustin’s friend.

Steve was his awesome big brother, with big hair and awesome powers. He would sneak out with El and Kali.

Dustin would be there for his friend, he would get Mrs Byers to take him with her, and he would save Steve.

Steve lay there on the laboratory floor.

He knew what would come tomorrow .

Brenner would ask him to do something ridiculous, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Then he would be hurt, as a punishment by Beefy and Brawny. Then another experiment would occur. He might succeed. Depending on that he would get to have food. He would pass out. Then be interrogated again. Then punished for not giving up.

Awful.

Painful.

But it was similar to the routine which he had had after his first escape attempt, age nine. It was familiar.

He thought about his friends.

Dustin, full of facts, questions and smart-alec comments.

El, quiet powerful and loyal.

Jonathan, solemn, snarky and pretentious, yet kind.

It hurt to think of Nancy. Her swearing at him would occasionally get stuck on loop in his head. She was a good person, unlike Steve.

He pushed himself up off the ground when something came flying in through the hatch. A swimming costume.

He kind of blanked out as he pulled it on, and was lead down the hallway. He just, didn’t want to be here, so he imagined that he wasn’t.

He imagined that he was sitting on soft warm grass, Dustin and Jane and the party playing.

The illusion was shattered when he was immersed in water. He had to find it

. He had to go back. Anything to escape being stuck in the white expanse of his mind.

Five focused on looking for a positive emotion, not having heard Brenner’s orders. He had mentioned something about quiet.

Five would have to find Peace. It stood there. A person standing.

Blue , curly hair framing a smooth, rosy face. Large violet eyes stared at him, a white robe flowing over the creatures body. The closer he got to the creature, the slower his heart rate went, and the calmer he felt. It was nice until he thought about it. This creature could be used.

This could be used to subdue citizens .He ran from it, ran from the fabricated feeling of peace and happiness.

He couldn’t have people use him, not again, never again.

The creature transformed.

Martin Brenner smiled from his station.

Subject 005 was proving to be very useful.

Obviously they would have to at one point deal with the epilepsy, but honestly that could be used as a tool. His teeth flashed white as he though of using diazepam as blackmail.

The grin only widened when It came in waves from the tank. It was pure, untainted emotion. His assistant yawned happily, even he felt his muscles relax and was embraced by the pure joy in the air. It would be marvellous.

A crowd of protestors, a war, even just for fun, this tool could be used to change peoples emotions. 005 would be the new weapon.

But then, the wave changed, distant thudding coming from the tank as his heart began to pound.

Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as blood drained from his assistants face, his head scientist almost dropping a beaker due to trembling hands.

No, no. This wasn’t the plan. 005 had switched from happiness to fear, pure unadulterated fear that was infecting the atmosphere.

Distant shrieks and yells sounded, as one of his interns tried to choke back a sob. He shouted, voice only wavering slightly,

”Get him out! Now!”

His workers scattered , sprinting towards the tank.

His chest was beginning to hurt from the increased pumping of his heart, when suddenly the pain spread.

He lay on the floor, when finally the untainted fear receded.

It wasn’t until the pain in his chest persisted that he realised that he was having a heart attack.

He tried to run from it, but it was too much and he was going to die and—

Water. Blinding Light. Cold, shaking hands pulling him out of the water.

Freedom.

He stood up, staring at the pale face of the attendant, who’s face twisted into anger and rage, gripping his shoulder hard enough to dislocate it.

He screamed as he felt the pop, the man’s malicious eyes suddenly widened, and the man bolted.

Leaving him alone, unguarded on the platform. Steve ran. He shakily sprinted, chucking the ridiculous car of wires off his head as he grabbed a lab uniform.

He kept running down the foreign hallways, desperately following the exit signs, holding in his breath if he heard footsteps.

He stopped, in a bathroom and put the uniform on.

He didn’t dare look in the mirror, but by just looking at himself out of the corner of his eyes, clad in the white, stiff uniform, Steve knew that he would have nightmares.

Well, more nightmares.

He walked down the hallway, his left arm not in his sleeve.

Steve didn’t have the heart to pop it back in. Screaming would attract too much attention.

He finally, finally found the escape stairwell, running out just as an ambulance turned the corner.

Steve walked out, his face damp with water, his entire body trembling with an eloquent mixture of shock, adrenaline and cold.

He was alone.

Steve had managed to scare off anyone who might care, or rather anyone who might pretend care for the sake of politeness.

He was somewhere, Ohio by the looks of it, with no place to go.

They knew where his house was. They knew where the log cabin was. They knew what he looked like now.

He shuffled into the supermarket, using his King Steve smile to charm the attendant into ignoring his arm, the bruises on his neck and his strange, almost non-existent hair.

Steve was hungry.

He walked around the supermarket when he came across an abandoned pram, a small squalling baby inside.

A small squalling baby, with blonde hair, brown eyes, red, tear-streaked cheeks and a tattoo on its arm.

Then a baseball bat hit him on the shoulder.

Chapter Text

Dustin was being a good babysitter.

Well, he had been a good baby sitter up until the point when he saw the chocolate pudding discounts.

It wasn’t like the baby could move, and with the wooden baseball bat which he had bought as a weapon, no one would be able to harm Robbie. He had left the pram right next to some shelves, and everything would be okay.

He had come back, arms full of pudding, when he saw him. A man in a lab coat was staring at the baby. Dustin had to act.

Slowly putting the pudding down, not making sound he grabbed the bat and swung it at the man It hit the man’s shoulder, and he elicited a yelp and a very familiar stream of swear words. Being used by a very familiar voice.

“Steve?” he asked, hoping and praying that he was right.

The man -- Steve looked up looked up.

Dustin… Dustin frowned. Steve’s hair was gone, all of it, like when El had first showed up. He had large circles under his eyes and his cheekbones stood out more, indicating that Steve had lost weight. But it was still Steve.

It was his eyes, his nose, his face.

Dustin rushed forward and hugged him, sighing in relief when one arm wrapped around him.

Steve was okay… well not okay, but alive.

Not dead.

He unwrapped himself from the boy, and muttered an apology.

He received a hair ruffle, but for once he didn’t find the action to be obnoxious

. He also noticed that Steve was refusing to use his left arm. The way that it hung lower that his other arm indicated dislocation.

Whilst Dustin had read his mother’s biology textbooks, he didn’t remember what to do. Steve needed help. He had to help him.

They had to find Mrs Byers. She would know what to do.

   Dustin quickly payed for the food, the frozen pizzas, pudding and apple-sauce, and then lead Steve to where the car was hidden.

Joyce Byers sat in the car, dutifully waiting for Dustin and … Robbie? to come back.

She fiddled with the radio, and hoped that the parking spot that she had chosen was inconspicuous enough to not attract too much attention.

It was difficult to be inconspicuous in a mud splattered truck in a city, but there wasn’t anything better.

She tensed as she saw Dustin walk out of the shop, ready to drive off, when her heart stopped.

There was a man in a lab coat with Dustin. Her heart then raced, thinking of all the posibilites, of who to call, of what to do, when the man turned to face her.

Steve Harrington.

A very sick, very tired looking Steve Harrington was looking at her.

Her instincts said to take him to hospital, and just leave Kali and Jane here. Anything to get him to look something… something other than a small sickly child.

She quickly radioed Kali, yelling into the speaker that Steve had been found, before rushing out of the car.

The boy looked awful. His face was a myriad of blues, yellows and greens, and the purple-almost black circles under his eyes just accentuated the pale, clammy skin which lay in the gaps between the dull neon colours. His eyes seemed glassy, and he had clearly lost weight. His head was clean shaven, only millimetres of brown hair visible.

She frowned, then practically carried the tall boy into the car waiting for Kali to arrive, hoping, praying that Steve would be alright.

Glancing back at the teenager’s trembling hands, she knew.

She knew that this wouldn’t be easy.

Jane sat in the car and stared at Five.

She knew that this was Steve. Steve with the big hair, bat and who Dustin said was “awesome”.

But this was Five, it was Five who was slumped next to her.

Five had no hair, and was dressed in a lab coat, like Papa’s. But the lab coat was too big, too white, and he didn’t look like Papa.

He didn’t look scary, and intimidating. He looked small, and hurt.

He was listening to what Dustin was saying, smiling faintly, even if it clearly pulled on the bruises on his face.

Mrs Byers was driving the car, but kept looking at Steve through the mirror. Like she was scared. Kali was doing the same, out of the corner of her eye. Jane felt herself doing it when she felt his hand begin to open and close, repeatedly in jerking motion on her lap.

It was going to happen again. Kali yelled at Mrs Byers to stop driving, and Jane switched seats with Kali, wanting to cover her eyes with her hands.

Not again.

She retreated into her mind, alone in the peaceful, familiar dark water. Where she was safe now. She felt the way the leather thudded and tensed beneath her. She heard the thumps, the frantic reassurances of Mrs Byers and the sorrowful stuttering of Dustin, before it all faded to static.

Jane finally peeled her hands off her face, blood rushing to her cheeks as she looked Steve was sleeping. Dustin was curled up next to him, and apart from that, not much had changed.

Only it had. Mrs Byers had frown lines, her lips pressed firmly together in worry. Kali was running her hands through her hair as they stared at the windscreen.

Or rather, at the shattered glass that lay on the bonnet of the truck. Steve had smashed the window, but he had done it facing away from them. The blood under his nose attested to that.

When Steve’s eyes finally fluttered open, grimacing at the windowless front, Mrs Byers finally spoke again.

“Steve… you and I need to talk. Rest for now, but you and I need to have a chat, okay?”

She smiled faintly at him as he nodded, before Steve ruffled her Jane’s hair. She smiled at him, squirming over Kali to get next to him. She didn’t even recognise the photo that Dustin took with Jonathan’s camera when they arrived, the three teenagers all fast asleep at the back of the car.

When they saw Harrington, it was like the world froze. Because this… this wasn’t Harrington.

Harrington wore fashionable clothes. Harrington was full of muscle. Harrington had the biggest hair.

The skinny boy in front of him, wearing a lab coat, a barely hidden dislocated shoulder , with a closely shaved head… this was someone else.

Nevertheless, the children all rushed at him. Lucas and Max hugged him, then began telling him about the babies, after a while the rest of the “Party” joined in, eyes only occasionally flickering to his face, his head or his arm.

Nancy and Jonathan, on the other hand, were quiet. They stood in the corner, jaws slack with horror, helpless observing the scene.

He wasn’t much better to be honest. Until he noticed the grim expressions on the women’s faces.

Joyce pulled him aside, and spoke in a low tone.

“He had another seizure Jim. Accoring to Kali he had another one with her, and Dustin isn’t talking but I think Steve had another seizure at some point. We need to do something.”

He nodded, before passing a gurgling Johnnie to Kali, and stepped into the huddle of children.

“Right, I’m going to chat, and see if we can get any info on the lab, and I’ll give Steve back to you later.”

Though protests rang out, they reluctantly let him go, and Jim practically supported the boy’s weight all the way to the bathroom.

Jim wordlessly handed the kid some painkillers which the boy took. Jim was satisfied, and prepared to give the kid a talk about self-care, and head injuries , when the boy ripped the arm of his right sleeve off.

Perplexed, Jim watched as he stuffed the white material into his mouth, before slamming his left shoulder into the bathroom wall, a sickening pop sounding as a moan struggled out through the material.

The shoulder was in place. Positive.

The fact that the kid did that with practiced calm. Negative.

Taking a deep breath, he gestured for the boy to sit down on the toilet seat, then he spoke.

“ Kid, how many seizures have you had since Hargrove slammed the plate against your head.”

“ Ten, I think.”

The boy had been hit about a week and a half ago. That was about one a day. This was bad.

“Okay. I’ve got clothes here. We’ll get food in a second and then… you can sleep. You might have to share a bed though.”

He stepped out to let the boy get some pants on, before coming in to help him.

There were fresh stitches and a smell on antiseptic on the boy’s wound from the Demo-dog. There were electrical burns on his chest, and bruises covering his entire body.

Finally, the ordeal was over.

He was going to have to talk to Joyce. This was a pure and utter mess.

Nancy held Barbie to her chest, leaning against Jonathan as they both stared at the bathroom.

The conversation was muffled, too muffled to decipher, but they had heard a loud thud about ten minutes ago.

Hopper stepped back out, Steve following him.

He wore some grey sweatpants, a red jumper and a faded denim jacket. It was but an echo of what he normally looked like, but when he put a beanie on his head, one could pretend.

Nancy could pretend that the guy who she had dated for over a year wasn’t completely forge in right now. She could pretend that Hopper’s concerned face, Dustin’s rather anxious rambling and Jane’s sympathetic glances didn’t exist.

But she knew what pretending lead to.

It lead to her drunkenly grabbing someones heart in her fist and squeezing everything out of it.

So she made eye contact, and patted the bed, Jonathan looking proudly at her, his eyes looking up at her through his fringe.

Steve sat down, and after a second of awkward silence between the trio, before Steve looked at the baby, and gestured for Nancy to hand it to him.

Gosh this was so, so awkward. She didn’t know what to do.

How was this conversation supposed to go?

She couldn’t exactly say:” Hey, so you have powers and spent most of your life as an experiment, and you’ve just spent about four days being used as a tool.”

She wordlessly handed him Barbie, and the watched, with Jonathan as Steve just sort of held her.

The silence was broken by Eleven.

“ In the truck. Why did that happen?”

Steve nervously flicked his eyes towards herself and Jonathan, before responding the girls question.

“ I got hit in the head, El. It sometimes happens for a while after a big bash. Anyways, hows Kali doing?”

The small girl frowned, her nose scrunching up in displeasure at the ambiguous answer. Kali, stepped behind her, her dark eyes boring into Steve’s head.

“ I’m fine. You on the other hand need to see a doctor. Chief says that thats like the tenth one, in just over ten days. You an I need to chat. Take Barbie with you, she likes you.”

Steve nodded, then smiled faintly at Nancy and Jonathan, before leaving them with El.

Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose, Jonathan rubbing her back comfortingly. Something was wrong with Steve, something that Kali, El, Dustin and the adults knew, something that had to do with head injuries.

Nancy couldn’t help but feel hurt that Steve wasn’t telling her, before the guilt settled in again, like a bruise that she had forgotten about.

She had made this mess, not him, not Jonathan. And it was her job to fix it.

She smiled at El, and quietly began braining the girl’s thick, shoulder length hair, hoping that there would be a normal future on the horizon.

“Have you taken any medication?”

She stared at him, trying to control the anger inside her. This idiotic kid was purposefully acting like nothing had happened, obviously avoiding eye contact as he rocked the baby in his arms.

“ Painkillers from Hopper. Brenner gave me diazepam sometimes, if he was in a good mood.”

So Brenner knew. Kali looked out of the window, twirling her violet hair between her fingers. Steve had epilepsy. And when he… when it affected him, he couldn’t control his powers.

This was very, very bad. Especially because they didn’t have the cash, nor the means of finding a doctor, and getting Steve a prescription.

Also, it didn’t help that he was adamant about not telling anyone.

Kali could sympathise, she really could. Hiding weaknesses was, afterall, her forte. But this, this was dangerous. If anything happened during a fight, or when he was alone with any of the kids, or with the other older teenagers, anything could happen. If something went really wrong, the boy could die.

But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. So she changed the subject.

“Okay. When have I seen you before. I need to fix my memory.”

“When we were in the first lab, I was sometimes allowed in the Rainbow Room. You didn’t trust me much until I showed you my powers, and even after then you kept standing in front of Eleve-Jane for about two weeks. When I escaped, I saw you, but Brenner started shooting so I ran. I saw you again before you left Hawkins.”

“The money. That was you.”

“Yes.”

“ Have your powers changed?”

“Have yours, Kali?”

“A little. I can manipulate how moving objects look now, and can change the images faster that I could. You?”

“ I can create emotions. Brenner wan’t to use me as a weapon. Apparently being able to make a crowd of people furious or calm is useful.” he spat out, colour finally flooding back into his cheeks before he resumed the genre rocking of Barbie.

Kali… Kali was at loss. Jane had had that raw anger, that desperation, which had now faded to a pure determination. Steve seemed to have some anger, but Kali couldn’t understand. Both she and Jane had never become members of society, whereas Steve had managed to build a bulletproof facade, assimilating himself seamlessly into the population.

The older girl reached forward, and placed her hand gently on the boy’s shoulder. She gently guided him back to the room, and stared wide eyed as she saw it.

His shoulders had been slumped with fatigue, a small limp hindering his gait and his face had been sorrowful and frustrated. But as they had walked through the door, a mask has slipped on. Bright eyes, a small but confident grin and a straight back had replaced the pitiful features of mere seconds before.

Kali frowned before deciding to let it drop.

He would have to release it somehow, no one could hold that in for so long.

He sat at his desk, feeling blood rush up his neck into his face as he roared at his useless employees,

“What do you mean by “the subject escaped”?”

They all jumped as he threw a vase at a wall.

“ Not only have we lost the biologically normal subjects, which we can’t replace any time soon, but we’ve also lost 005. How on earth did an injured, weakened and starved child escape from fifty guards?”

They all said nothing, not wanting to admit that they had relaxed when he had been in hospital, some even taking secret holidays. He breathed in, trembling with forced calm before stating:

” You are to find that boy. You will find him within the next week, if not, ten of you will be my experiments. Go!”

He frowned as they all fled the room. 005 had potential, he would be a wonderful experiment. If he could control emotions, he could then manipulate thoughts.

This would be useful in any war, any debate, any riot.

Martin Brenner knew that 005 would be the perfect subject. Few friends, no parents, almost a legal adult and with so, so much potential.

When the boy came back, there would be no escape. 

Steve lay on the bed, trying desperately hard to piece his mind together.

In his mind Five and Steve Harrington were two separate people. They had to be, life just didn’t work otherwise.

It was Five who studied history and sociology and other useful things at home, trying to fit in. It was Five that would cut his own hair, and try and catch up on what he had missed reading semiotics, anthropology and psychology.

Steve didn’t care for education and would not do much in class. Steve fit in perfectly with his rich, high-flying parents. Steve had a special barber who would go to his home, and knew social hierarchies perfectly.

Five was for home. Steve was for outside. King Steve was for school and/or with “friends”.

But somewhere along the lines, the divisions between Steve and Five had blurred, King Steve blinking out of existence.

He rolled over on the cramped bed, Mike, Lucas and Dustin all hogging the blankets.

It didn’t make sense. There was no protocol for this. There was no way to fix this, and after years of trial and error in social interactions, Steve was at loss.

Everything hurt, from his head, to his chest to his leg.

He was tired, but not hungry. Hopper had ordered a super-meat cheese pizza which Steve had eaten most of.

He couldn’t sleep yet though. He had to at least wait until everyone was deeply asleep otherwise his nightmares might wake them up.

He finally heard the even breaths ringing out through the motel room, and let himself fall asleep, practically begging his brain to not give him nightmares.

But since when do brains just do what they’re told.

Chapter Text

Mike was sleeping peacefully, finally getting some rest.

El was safe, cuddled around him. Steve was…back. Hopper and Mrs Byers were in charge, everything was okay, for now.

Until he nearly got thrown off the bed, that is.

He blinked, El and Lucas also angrily grumbling, slurring with sleep as they sat on the cushioned motel floor. Steve was dreaming.

It didn’t look like it was a nice dream.

Mike had had nightmares, but his Mom had always been there with a warm glass of milk or a chocolate chip cookie, or he would radio El or one of the Party members to talk.

It suddenly hit him that Steve had no one.

A soft whimper brought him back to the present. In the dark, Steve’s face was scrunched up in pain, a thin sheen of sweat reflecting the moonlight shining in from the window. Then Steve began to speak, softly and anguished, the four children watching in silence, unsure what to do.

“Please… please don’t hurt them. Please…. stop…. just hurt me… no…no no no… stop! No!”

The whimpers were becoming louder, Jonathan turning over in his sleep to hug Nancy on the other bed, Will grumpily glaring at him was his blanket was stolen.

“What do we do?” asked Mike, running his hands through his curly mop of hair.

He… he hadn’t always liked Steve. Steve had dated his sister. Steve had been mean to Jonathan. Steve had been mean to Nancy. Steve didn’t seem to get anything.

But Steve had saved Jonathan and Nancy. Steve had saved the party and had protected El. Steve had powers, and was basically El’s brother, so if Mike married El then Steve would be his brother in law and— His cheeks flushed in the dark.

The though of marrying El was becoming more and more persistent in his mind.

Finally Dustin spoke, “We should wake him. It isn’t nice watching him suffer.”

Will had crawled over from the other bed, and nodded.

Gently, Mike shook Steve’s shoulder, begging for the pleas and whimpers to end. and he felt the tremors running through Steve’s body as he shook with fear. He shook harder, and Steve sat up fast, almost pushing him off the bed again, a tear leaking out. Steve caught sight of them, the six children staring at him, and he gathered them all up.

Mike was practically scooped up, and before he could protest, he was being wrangled into a group hug, Steve whispering,

“Oh thank G-d” over and over again as he hugged them all. Mike tentatively rubbed Steve’s back, and was surprised as Steve suddenly looked sheepish.

“Sorry if I woke you all up. You should all be sleeping.”

Steve, almost robotically put everyone into the bed, somehow managing to put every single one of the skinny teens on the double bed, all of them under the covers.

“Sleep…. Uh, can you forget about tonight. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Mike cuddled Eleven, his eyes drooping as he succumbed to sleep again.

He would keep his word to Steve, but he promised himself to be Steve’s friend as his eyes fluttered shut, his chin resting upon El’s unruly black hair.

Breakfast was a strange affair, decided Jonathan.

The kids’ eyes were all flicking to Steve, Jane pushing Eggos towards him. The punk gang didn’t appear to notice anything, except for Kali, who was also suspiciously looking at Steve. Nancy and him were the only ones who were oblivious to what was going on, and honestly he was getting tired of it.

All he knew was that Steve needed to see a doctor, that he had powers and that he was once known as 005.

But no one wanted to tell him and Nancy anything. Nothing about Steve’s powers, nothing as to why he needed to see a doctor, nothing about why everyone was so worried.

It was frustrating.

There was also this weird thing between Nancy and Steve, in which Steve was overly- casual about their break-up of about a month and in which Nancy was oddly guilty around him.

Jonathan didn’t understand, so he decided, after handing a sleeping Johnnie to his mom, who gladly cooed over the baby, to talk to Steve. The boy looked up at him in surprise and followed him, Jonathan ignored the questioning looks, and decided to file Nancy’s anxious expression for later.

“So.. what do you want to talk about?“ questioned Steve, like nothing was weird.

“ Look, I don’t really understand what’s going on, so you’re going to have to explain some things to me.”

“Okay, uh powers. Um, amplifying and suppressing force, like if you push something I can make it go faster, uh the same for emotions, and I can also create emotions, apparently.”

Jonathan just stared. No wonder Steve had fit in so well. He could suppress any awkwardness, he could amplify admiration.

“Okay, right um, whats going on with you and Nancy?”

Steve just blinked at him confusedly, his head tilting to the side in confusion as he ran his tough over his lips before speaking, slowly like he was talking to a startled deer.

“Well, Nancy did break up with me the night the gate closed, so… its bound to be awkward for a while… but like she is your girlfriend and I won’t try to get her back or anything … if you want I can back off or like uh..”

He felt his heart drop out of his stomach. He had… he and Nancy had .. and she hadn’t been broken up with Steve yet.

Jonathan stared out of the window.

He hadn’t known, he had assumed that when Steve had told him to take Nancy home it was because Nancy had broken up with him but… oh no… this was wrong, so wrong.

He tried to make his face into a smile, then changing the subject.

“What’s wrong with your head? Did you hurt yourself or anything?”

Steve’s face blanked completely before he answered, fake cheerfulness ringing out as he spoke.

“Just a small concussion. Nothing else.”

Dustin walked in and practically dragged Steve out, talking about a quick history recap with El and how Steve could help, leaving him alone in the room with his thoughts.

Jonathan sat on the sofa, and pressed his hands into his eyes.

Nancy had cheated on Steve with him. Steve was hiding a head injury. One fifth of the people in the motel had powers.

What was his life?

Steve was tired. Very tired. Exhausted. Sleepy.

But he couldn’t sleep.

The kids, they had all been through too much, too much for anyone normal, and they needed rest.

They couldn’t rest if he kept waking them up everything he slept, so he would have to stop sleeping.

He had gone without sleep before, as part of an experiment. He had started hallucinating at some point, but apparently he hadn’t reacted as badly as a normal person would have, so it was fine.

Normal. He had looked it up, once. It meant to conform to a standard, to be usual, to be typical.

Looking normal was easy. You change your hair according to passing comments made by acquanintances, magazines and television. You use phrases that others use, in similar contexts even if your not quite sure what they are for. You get normal grades. Normal.

But the act was crumbling. Hopper and Mrs Byers would occasionally check on him, handing him warm drinks and sometimes bringing the kids drinks too, to keep pretending that they weren’t adding extra cream, sugar and protein power to his.

Kali and her friends had brought him hats, before stating that they needed to go and sort something out up north.

Nancy and Jonathan kept on shooting him questioning looks, and the kids were all acting gentle… too gentle.

He wanted to scream. He had done all of this before, when he had been alone, five years younger and had had no clue as to how the world worked. And he had survived.

He had been fine.

So he went full King Steve, with some slight amendments. He walked, held his head high, and talked about the things that King Steve was supposed to like. Baseball. Basketball. Popular Music. Popular movies. But he kept the nice parts of himself. The presentable parts, open. He hugged Jane when she watched Kali go. He let Dustin make a character for him when they were writing a new campaign. He gave Will ideas of how to draw a “Zoomer”. But there were things he couldn’t really hide.

He had to hide his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling, the muscles continuously twitching. Steve had to subtly put all of his weight on one leg as he carried Johnnie, the other leg healing all too slowly. Steve felt his eyes flutter shut, the kids all out at the local skate park.

Jane napping, still dealing with the after effects of closing the gate. Jonathan and Nancy were chatting quietly in the other room, Mrs Byers and Hopper having gone to get more nappies.

Then a bullet burst through the window, disrupting the silence.

His training kicked in as he sped forwards.

Jane liked sleeping.

Papa hadn’t let her sleep much. He said that she only needed eight hours per night.

Dad let her sleep more. He let her sleep until the sun was already up, and if she was tired during the day — even if she hadn’t done anything — he would let her take a nap.

Jane liked naps.

She was napping, happy, warm and okay, when it was loud.

Very loud.

She sat up, to see a large shadow, in front of her, almost protecting her.

Five.

Nancy and Jo-na-than came in from the other room, their faces all stretched and scrunched up in shock, when she felt it.

Panic.

Nancy’s face went pale, Jonathan’s eyes rounding as they clutched their arms together.

Jane couldn’t hear anything except for the fast boom.boom.boom of her heart, desperately wanting to run.

A hoarse voice cut through it, cut through the sirens, the shattered glass, the panting,

“Go.”.

It was whispered, but effective. He turned around, put a hoodie on then putting his hood up, after observing his face in the shattered glass, and began packing things in an orderly fashion, the un-harmonic gasps of everyone else in the room mingling with the cries of the babies.

He placed Robbie and Barbie in the stroller, pulling the cover over them then opening a flap, and handed Johnnie to Jonathan, who was still semi-frozen in shock.

Five looked to her, cuts on his face and arms, blood streaking from his nose as he asked

“Can you walk?”

She didn’t know. It was all too quick, too loud , too bright. Her mind whirling, as she decided. Yes, she could walk. For how long, was unknown, but she could walk.

He grinned at her, his bloody face still obscured by his hood and his hat.

He opened the door and walked down-stairs, grabbing a walkie talkie as he beckoned.

The three teenagers, and the baby all followed in stunned silence, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Joyce was in the supermarket, wondering how this was going to go.

They were here under the pretence of buying more baby formula, more nappies, and finding more about the town.

In actuality, they were here for Steve, and they were trying their best to convince the shop assistant that they had misplaced a prescription for diazepam.

It wasn’t really working.

She was worried. But then again, when, in the last year and a half hadn’t she been worried? First she was worried about Will who was missing, then she had been worried about him as he had been being things, then there was the worry about the monsters coming out and now,,, now she was worried about everyone.

But Steve took up the main space of worry in her mind. She hadn’t known much about him. He had been part of the popular crowd, but , according to Hopper, he had been an odd one. He had been the ringleader, and yet he had never been part of the worst, the worst mess ups had occurred when he had not been there, his friends complaining in the back of police cars that he had wanted to come, but couldn’t.

She knew there was tension between him and Jonathan. She knew he had insulted them. But after seeing someone have a seizure, and then try to hide it, insults seem very, very small.

Especially one you learn that the boy had saved her children’s lives multiple times. Firstly by beating up the Demogorgon, then by lighting up the  monster hub.

So here she was, trying to be a mother to a child who had never had one. It wouldn’t be the first time, apparently Jane sometimes referred to her as Mom, but she… this was different.

She was pulled out of her musings by Jim tapping her on the shoulder, then pulling her into the corner of the shop, just in the blind spot of the security cameras.

The radio was beeping.

This wasn’t one of the scheduled times.

After some crackling, a voice rang out,

“ They’ve found us. I’ve got Nancy, Jonathan, Jane and the babies in the truck. I’ve collected everything we had from the motel rooms, and have taken the licence plate off. I’m on my way to the park. Do not approach the motel, they were armed. Rendevous at the petrol station. This is zero-zero-five, over and out.”

Joyce sobbed, as Jim pulled her into a hug, his grey-brown beard resting over the mousy brown roots of her auburn hair. It was only when her sobs had ceased, and that they were half way to the petrol station that she realised something.

Steve had referred to himself as “zero-zero-five.”.

Not Steve, not Five, but a code name. He wasn’t well.

Something was very very wrong, and a jigsaw puzzle was missing. Joyce, filled with  adrenaline and her curiosity, stepped forward.

They couldn’t afford to keep secrets.

It was time for the truth to  come out.

The truck swerved into the petrol station, small dents indicating bullet fire, and the minute it stopped, everyone piled out, their eyes rounded with shock, clutching hands with whomever was near them.

Steve stepped out, trying his best to obscure his face.

He had put the hoodie on after the initial blast, and hoped that the hood combined with the thick material would be enough to cover the scratches from the glass.

He had worried these people enough.

Five— Steve— what was he now? Steve, he was with people so Steve. He would have to sort that out later.

Steve went to gesture for everyone to get into the truck, hoping that the adults would drive. His vision had occasionally gone blurry, and the faint rubber smell that was permeating his senses combined with the jerking of his hand told him he had twenty minutes.

They were subtle signs, ones he hadn’t picked up on before as he had been trying not to die, or other senses had been overpowering these ones.

Mrs Byers stopped him, and grabbed his arm, pushing his hood back, gasping. She shook her head angrily, before her eyes widened at the faint twitching of his fingers. Silence reigned as she fished a pill bottle out of her handback, and snapped the security tag off it, before handing him two pills.

“Diazepam. Take it.”

He hesitated, wondering a) how she had figured it out and b) hw she had managed to steal it.

She glared at him before he sheepishly swallowed it. They all clambered back into the van, Steve being pushed to the back, covered in cushions.

As the truck sped off, without direction or cause apart from escape, Steve stubbornly ignored the questioning looks, the large rounded eyes and the shocked faces of the other teenagers surrounding him.

He decided, as they crossed the border into Pittsburgh, that he would be Five.

No more pretending. No more secrets.

Steve was a good friend. But 005 was a good protector.

Memories, facts and systems which he had tried to forget flooded his mind. The missions, the manipulations.

To Brenner, to his “parents” 005 had been a weapon. 005 had been the cute smiling kid who had made evryone sleepy and happy as the US government hacked into files.

Now 005 would be the teenager who would end the regime of Brenner.

It would take explaining. It would take ages to tell people of the insignificant of the President, and of the power that Brenner had. It would take longer to explain why he was so good at martial arts and why he could move so fast.

But it would be worth it, decided Five as he ruffled Eleven’s hair.

It would be worth it all.

Chapter Text

Max knew things.

Her mom had been a nurse, before her dad had decided to stop her from working. When Max had been little, she had sat in the small clinic in California, watching as her Mom worked. She knew what Diazepam was for.

It was for Epilepsy.

Steve had epilepsy and he wasn’t telling anyone and that, Max thought was one of the most ridiculous things a person could do. She didn’t know much about Steve, having only met him when he had smashed his bat into the … the thing that had been screeching at her.

But she knew what epilepsy was.

Mrs Kazjun had come in with her son, and he had had it. Mrs Kazjun had cried. It turned out that, if Jimmy ever hit his head when he head one of those fits, he could die. And yet Steve hadn’t told anyone about it, deciding to try and hide it.

Max liked Steve, she really did but she sometimes wondered how boys could be so unanimously stupid. She could sympathise—she really could. She would sometimes wear long sleeves to hide the bruises from Billy or Mr Hargrove, and didn’t want anyone to find out and think she was a wuss. But if Steve didn’t tell anyone, especially considering that he was sometimes viewed as an adult, he could die.

Max let go of Lucas’ hand, a dopey smile coming up on her face as she watched her boyfriend sleeping, and then climbed up onto Steve’s lap.

The medicine had worked. His hand wasn't twitching. Good.

She patted his knee, and hazel eyes looked up at her, the bright purple of the bags under his eyes contrasting with the neon greens of the skin on his forehead. Max thought of a tactful way to say something then stopped.

Steve was big enough to take it. “You have epilepsy. Billy did something to your head.”

He looked at her surprised, before nodding, slowly.

“ Hopper and Mrs Byers know. It’s okay Max. Go back to sleep.”

It was not okay. It seemed like nothing ever would be okay again.

But Max decided to pick her battles, and snuggling into the leather of Steve’s jacket, she fell asleep.

Meanwhile, her pillow stayed stubbornly awake, preparing himself for what was to come.

Nancy was ready to scream, and then storm off, just like the normal Nancy Wheeler of 1982 would have done.

There were so many questions buzzing around, like angry wasps about in her head, that it was almost dizzying. It was hard, trying to concentrate in the dark of the truck, bodies piled over one another, the occasional swerve leading to groans and the creaking of leather.

Why did Steve need medicine? Why did Brenner want Steve so badly? Why was Jonathan acting weird? What did the kids know that she didn’t? Why was Steve not sleeping?

She understood, at one level, that it was none of her business. That she had… she had cheated on Steve, and that was not okay. She had told Steve she hadn’t loved him. They couldn’t be friends, at least not for a while. On the other hand, she needed to know. She needed all of the possible information because, right now, they were being hunted down by the government and she was not one-hundered-percent sure as to why the government was so hell-bent of getting Steve back.

They finally stopped, for the night, in another dingy motel, somewhere in Pittsburg border.

Hopper had gruffly muttered something about a “camping trip gone wrong”, which was enough to let the tired receptionist give them three conjoined rooms Hopper decided who would be sleeping in which rooms.

He could not have made a worse choice, decided Nancy as she pulled out the cheap night-clothes which she had bought from the store.

She, Jonathan, Steve, Johnnie and Barbie were to share a room. Sure, there was a bed, a couch and a large cot, and there was no way of separating the gang, or making Mrs Byers and Hopper share a bed….. But this could not be worse.

Jonathan was peeling off his shirt, pulling out a vest from his rucksack, when he stopped and turned to stare at Steve. Nancy copied the action.

Initially Nancy blushed, guilty as she remembered the other times when she had seen Steve’s bare back.

But when the embarrassment faded, she realised, that she had never actually looked at his back. There were scars. Thick and protruding, obviously old, but the white projections on the otherwise tanned skin stood out.

Jonathan spoke as Steve turned, his face paling as he saw their faces. “Where… where did you get those?”

Then Steve’s face did something odd. For Nancy, Steve had always had a few expressions, his King Steve Smirk, the Look of Utter Devastation, the I Love You look and the I am Angry look. This was a foreign expression.

Glazed eyes, thinned lips and a clenched jaw.

“ I was useful to Brenner. But accidents would sometimes happen on missions.”

He turned away from them abruptly, quietly picking up Barbie and cooing gently at her babbles, leaving two shocked teenagers to get into the bed.

  She curled up on her side, hugging the spare pillow to her chest as her worries dissolved into the abyss of sleep.

Steve lay awake in the bed, wondering how to tell them.

He had tried to open up a conversation up with Nancy and Jonathan, taking his shirt off and mentioning the missions, but it had been too much.

As he had spoken everything had suddenly become too loud, too bright too —everything and he had had to turn away to look after Barbie.

But he had to tell them, and then they could form a plan.

But, how does one start a conversation about this?

There was no protocol for this. Books and Movies indicated that this was when he was supposed to disappear in the middle of the night and come back as the knight in shining armour.

Okay, so he could go about it in a round about way, being all like,

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. Brenner would sometimes reward me with food or less experiments if I helped US spies succeed in suicide missions, and I can find the blackmail material with El and Kali’s help! Also, my parents were Brenner's best friends!”

Yeah, no, that wouldn’t work. Besides, he needed to get back into shape.

He had lost muscle mass since the first issue portal, trying to make himself look less … like himself and also generally stressing.

He turned on the musty sofa, the smell of copper coins, old wool and coffee reaching his nostrils as he purposefully avoided looking at the bed. It hurt. It hurt to have tried so hard to be the normal, popular boyfriend that Nancy Wheeler wanted, and still have failed miserably.

He had started feeling like it was all natural. That the burn of alcohol on his tongue, the stretched crooked grin and the endless money were all real.

What a farce!

He sat up, realising that he was not going to sleep, and began doing push-ups.

He grabbed a protein bar from where Hopper had conspicuously left it, and felt his muscles burn as the sounds of chewing and snores filled the three rooms.

He would have to become 005 again.

And it would be okay.

It would be okay.

Kali, sat in the warehouse in Michigan, and warmed her hands by the fire.

The more her memories came back the more she decided that the state of … things… could not be defined as “okay’.

It had begun with the research, as most things often do. She had found out that an ex-soldier had worked with Brenner and the Lab, but she couldn’t figure out why.

So she had left it, and moved on.

Then another ex-soldier, from the same regiment had showed up, an old telegram between him and Martin Brenner had arrived last night. The contents of the letter meant little to her, something about an arms deal, Russia, China and nuclear weapons.

But one sentence turned her heart to ice and made her stomach drop.

‘ The kid — 005 is useful. He was shot last night, but it isn’t fatal. He’s great when getting the ambassadors to calm down, especially with those eyes. He is a good product. I will send him back to you tomorrow.”

They had to find this guy.

If her suspicions were confirmed, then Steve hadn’t just been a test subject like Eleven and herself, he had been used for espionage.

And that meant that Brenner was involved with US espionage which…. Which meant that Brenner wasn’t just a wealthy but evil director of a government funded lab.  It meant that he held strings in the government.

Right.

Great.

So , as Kali sat by the fire, trying to conjure the image of a nice pretty butterfly, she sighed deeply, weariness setting into her bones.

They weren’t just fighting Martin Brenner of Hawkins Lab.

They were fighting the Federal Government.

Dustin sat at the breakfast table in the Diner, observing the scene:

El was eating a stack of waffled with impressive vigour, syrup and whipped cream smeared across her mouth, grinning as Mike dopily smiled at her, puppy eyes inducing groans around the table.

Then Steve cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look at him, the diner employees all on their break.

“I need to tell you all something. I think I know how to stop Brenner.’

The excited, optimistic looks coated the thick oppressive silence that followed.

‘ But to do so, we need Kali. And we need to prepare for the US Government as a whole to hunt us down.’

Dustin felt the bacon he had swallowed so cheerfully gurgle dangerously in his stomach.

No.

This was too much.

He was supposed to be at home, with his mom playing with Mews and reading about tadpoles.

He hadn’t seen his mom in nearly a week, Mews was dead, and he couldn’t look at any anthropology books without having his chest go tight.

When he came back to the present, his soft panting merely a white noise in the chaos.

Lucas was suspiciously asking questions, Mike was frowning, the adults were whispering harshly as the older teenagers stared down at their plates, saying nothing.

“ Look, Brenner… Brenner isn’t just some rich monster with government funding. He is an integral part of the government. He oversaw Operation Bravo, campaigned for it. He urged Kennedy to “go for it “in the Cuban missile crisis. I was shown videos, heard telephone recordings and was shown pictures. Brenner is the Government.”

No one spoke, and then Dustin saw it. Steve’s nose was bleeding.

He was trying hard to make sure that no one would feel too sad or panic and honestly, that just made him want to cry more.

Dustin was so tired, and he could tell that everyone else was, too. It wasn’t just the yawns, the occasional glazed stares or the way that everyone, from El to Hopper had asked for the bitter, sour coffee. It was just … everything was tired. Sleeping for three days wouldn’t cure this tiredness. It was the tiredness that came from seeing people you care about getting hurt, and not being able to do anything about it. It was the tiredness of lying, and lying, and lying every day to everyone. It was the tiredness that came from realising that nothing made sense anymore. It was the tiredness of watching stuff happen, and not knowing why it was happening.

He mused on this, as he watched Hopper, not-so-subtly hand Steve a pill.

Steve.

Steve was, frankly being an idiot. Nancy had… done something to him, Billy had smashed his face in, Brenner had used him and his own brain was messing with him. And yet he wouldn’t ask for help.

Dustin didn’t know what to do.

No about psychology, psychiatry, philosophy or sociology books would help him to help Steve. Books and facts had failed him for the first time, and he didn't know what to do.

Jim stared at the kid, nodding slightly as he watched him gulp the pill down.

Okay. That should… lessen the chance of a seizure.

But his mind was whirling. If the kid was right, and to be honest, he definitely was, then this problem didn’t run on a superficial level, this problem ran down to the bases of the science, espionage, warfare and military divisions of the Government.

He looked around the table. The younger boys all looked shocked and tired. Jane looked like she wanted to cry, and Max looked like she wanted to punch something, but wasn’t sure what. Joyce was shakily gasping, staring at the table, and the older teenagers were picking at their food, confusion and frustration on their faces.

The oppressive silence was broken by a crackle from the radio.

The voice of Jane’s sister… Kali crackled over the radio, her deep voice mingling with static and the background sounds of tyres screeching.

“ Steve, we need to meet up. You have to explain why Brenner is involved so heavily in the military. But —“

The sound momentarily cut off, before coming back on again, sounds of gunfire added to the noises this time.

“ We’re under attack. Some demons, ex-FBI guys are firing on us, and keep on yelling about “Subject 005” to each other. We’re in Michigan. We need help!”

Everyone looked to Steve questioningly, before he spoke.

“ First, we help Kali. Then the plan starts.”

Hopper had to ask, he was so sick of teenagers doing things alone. He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, and he knew that secrets were of utmost idiocy at this point.

“What’s step one?” he asked, gruffly as he saw Steve gingerly stand up.

As the diner staff came back in, the faint smell of frying oil and salt filling the place as the people filed in, switching on their stations. Everyone began to  file out, Steve slapped some dollar bills onto the table, throwing his rucksack against his shoulder. Then he heard Steve whisper, just enough so he could hear.

“Step One, is finding my parents. They’ll have information.”

Henry Harrington sat in his chair, overlooking the polished mahogany desk, he stroked the velvet arms of the chair, proudly observing the Washington D.C. skyline.

It was beautiful. So much money. So much innovation; and to know he had contributed to it.

He had tried, so, so hard to make up for his failure of a son. 005 had been perfect, powerful and submissive, right up until the point where he had escaped.

Intelligence was good when it was obedient. Disobedient intelligence was annoying.

An assistant came in, and he went to dismiss him, wanting some hours of solitude and philosophising, but then he saw the signature.

A signature he hadn’t seen in years. Snatching the file from his assistant, he almost jumped with glee.

His son had been… taken in again. And he was more powerful than ever, being able to create and manipulate emotions of multitudes. He ran his hands through his thick, dark grey hair, his broad shoulders pulling at the seams of his tailored suit as he jumped for joy.

The Harrington name would be great once again, it would be a symbol of power, stability and science everywhere.

His plan could commence again.

He called his wife, ready to tell her the good news.

His wife wasn’t always supportive of his plans, but she was everything that Henry Harrington wanted in a wife.

Passive, submissive, feminine, and with just enough intelligence to be able to hold a scientific conversation, but not enough to defy him.

“Darling, I have wonderful news. Dr Brenner has found him, and he appears to be a most promising subject. Aren’t you happy.”

He grinned at her pleased replies of “Why of course!” and “Oh, what good news!”

Everything was in place, just as it had been five years ago.

He just hoped that the boy wouldn’t ruin it all.

Maria Harrington put the phone down, and sank to the floor.

No.

Not again. Not her baby boy strung up, and beaten in a cold hard lab.

She hated her husband.

But with his ability to act,  to be charming and smart in public, and to be cunning, manipulative and cold in secret, combined with his wealth, accreditations and connections, any thought of separation would be too scandalous to imagine.

But she would have to get smarter.

She had played the role of the dumb, over-spending sub-urban housewife for too long, her statistics and analysis degree sitting at the back of her mind as she was forced to submit.

She had been slightly clever, occasionally sending slips of money to obscure aqcuaintances, who would when ensure that those bills would reach her son.

She had flirted with the leering bank-manager enough to ensure that all transactions were secret. Now it was time to be a mother

. Now it was the time to be intelligent, openly, for the first time in decades.

Now it was time to make up for what was lost.

She was not the feeble girl, willingly accepting her fate as she drank concoctions and had electrodes strapped to her stomach.

She was not the twenty five year old girl, full of naive wishes, draped over the handsome fourty-year-old government worker.

She would get her life back.

She would get her son back, once and for all.

Chapter Text

Kali breathed harshly as Axel and Mick swore violently at each other, each blaming the other one for being found out, whilst Funshine made pitiful attempts at being peacemaker and Dottie just stared forlornly at the many small dents in the van.

Contacting that ex-military guy had been a bad idea.

One would think that a married man with children would care about the fact that innocent kids were being strung up, experimented on, used and tortured. Nevertheless, the general public’s lack of care, compassion or general goodness never failed to disappoint.

The guy had called up Brenner, who had sent in his forces. So here they were, in a camping site in Michigan, in the middle of November, trying to figure out what to do next.

She had radioed Steve, hoping that he could help. Hoping that he could clear something up.

It didn’t sit well with her, that the person that was most experienced out of them wasn’t her, a twenty-one year old leader of a vigilante-activist-punk gang, but a seventeen year-old boy who was, last month, writing his college essay.

She ran her hands harshly through her hair, the black roots contrasting with the faded purple colour.

This was not an ideal situation. The radio had gotten shot through after she had spoken to Steve, they were in the middle of nowhere and they didn’t even have the full story.

She felt like those cartoons, that when they saw, or thought about money, their eyes would roll with dollar signs. Just, instead of money, it was anything to do with Brenner, Steve and the Government, and instead of dollar signs, it was question marks.

So many question marks.

Kali was not unhappy, though. She had told the Byers woman to get Diazepam, and had bough some hats for Steve.

It was dark and peaceful here so she could practice her powers.

Jane was protected and loved by her family.

But curiosity and intrigue reared its ugly head, breaking through the forced positivity.

Why had he been used? Why were there no reported kidnappings of small boys? Why did he have a name and a number, and not just a number? And what did he have to do with espionage?

She had been able to relate to Jane.

They had both been stolen from their innocent parents, had been treated as experiments and had escaped dramatically at around the same ages, had chosen names, had found unorthodox families. The points of reliability were many. But with Steve they were few points of connection.

Realising that the shouting had stopped, and that Funshine was coming over to her, pressing warm, damp gauze on her bleeding cheek, she let the thoughts wash over her.

For now, she would prepare.

For now, the questions would have to be put on the back burner.

For now, the matter would rest

Making a troop of two adults, three babies and nine teenagers look like a happy, normal group of lost campers, was surprisingly hard.

The truck, supposed Jonathan, that was peppered with bullet-hole dents, was probably a factor in the strange looks they were getting.

The fading, yet still impressive bruises on Steve’s face, also didn’t help, nor did everyone’s strange clothing.

Somewhere along the lines, that had come along a laundromat, and a clothes shop. Though this was wonderful, somewhere along the lines, whose clothes belonged to who got mixed up, and everyone was too close /tired/ familiar etc to care.

Obviously there were some things that weren’t shared.

Like Steve’s denim jacket and hats, Dustin’s baseball cap, El’s leather coat, Lucas’ bandanas and Max’s necklace.

But Nancy was wearing his mom’s blouse, Mike was wearing Will’s pullover, he was wearing Steve’s jeans and El was wearing Dustin’s faded dinosaur t-shirt.

But, he couldn’t help but shiver at the nagging feeling that the looks that they were getting weren’t just the bemused observances of people. They were being watched. Hopper had noted it, shaving his beard, leaving him looking rather odd.

Steve had bought some makeup, and had glared at anyone who dared to look at his direction as he covered up the bruises with the thick, greasy liquid. Even Jane had slept with pins in her hair, waking up to pin-straight, shoulder length hair.

It was unnerving.

They finally moved on, finding their way to Michigan, and he could finally think.

He was fighting the US Government. It wasn’t that Jonathan had never pictured fighting a corrupt government, it was just… he hadn’t expected it to be like this.

He had expected riots, banners, multitudes of people his age, all fighting for a common cause that, despite the glares from children, grannies and police officers, would make the world a better place.

Sitting in the back of a truck, surrounded by mainly people under the age of fourteen, with a baby drooling on his shoulder as a police officer drived whilst flirting subtly with his mom, with his ex-enemy being the “campaign leader” hadn’t really been part of the plan.

A thought suddenly returned to his mind, obliterating any other.

Hopper was flirting with his Mom!

He tried to feel it, the possessive, worried panic that would come over him whenever a new boyfriend came. He had only felt it for five seconds with Bob, the guy’s sweet, dorky nature quickly obliterating any panic.

Now, he didn’t feel anything other than a smug excited feeling.

Pondering it, there really wasn’t anyone else that he could imagine his mom being with, now.

No other adult had been part of this mess

.No other adult had had to hide something about their children to the general public. It was a fact.

Hopper was a nice guy, with a stable job, who could relate to all of his Mom’s problems.

Hopper was perfect.

He grinned as his mom lowly chuckled. One day, his mother wouldn’t have the haunted look in her eyes. One day, the fear of evil ex-husbands, inter-dimensional creatures, and having the people she loved in danger would disappear.

But as he turned to see Steve’s concentrated, grim stare, he wondered just when that day would come.

It was time.

On one hand, dread filled his stomach, uncertainly colouring the emotion.

He had been a formidable force age ten, being used practically every other day, never failing his missions.

And that had been unwilling participation, with undeveloped powers.

Who knew what was going to happen now?

But on the other hand, oh, how Steve longed for it. To feel the pure adrenaline with his veins without having to smother everything down.

To fight, and not have to lose, juts to make himself look more normal.

To be him.

To be free.

To feel pure, raw emotions without having to blanket them. He hadn’t been able to use his powers properly for years.

He could feel his muscles tensing, his heart pounding as they neared Michigan.

Steve handed a picture of Kali to Jane, and watched proudly as she closed her eyes, focusing. Finally they found it, the old campsite.

The van was covered in mud, and had similar indentations on it, bullets.

He would end it. All of this. No more war.

Steve Harrington would have to smash into dust, and Five would have to rise again.

His thoughts vaguely reminded him of one of Dustin’s comics… Phoenix. He wouldn’t turn dark, no.

But he would finally be able to use the full extent of his powers, uncontrolled, uninjured and free.

Now, he would be off to Washington, after finding Kali and getting her and her friends safe, of course..

It was time for his parents to see what they had created.

So he planned. He bought protein bars, tasteless, the bitter tang of bad memories on his tongue as he chewed through the bland bars, but slowly, as he continued to favour exercising instead of sleep, he returned to himself.

How he had been, just before it had all started again.

He practiced his powers at night, whilst everyone slept in the dingy motels across the US, he would lie outside in the gardens, manipulating force, emotions and fire.

Sure, sometimes he blacked out outside, usually waking up to hair damp with dew, and rumpled clothes ( and on one spectacular occasion, a curious fox sniffing at his hair), but no one needed to know that.

He had managed to hide the seizures from everyone, and the adults were safely convinced that the medicine was completely stopping them.

Good.

He didn’t need their worry, finally having freedom after those awful days after the initial Gate problem finished.

They finally, finally found Kali’s van, in an abandoned campsite, when they had, after tons of digging, found a picture of Kali.

He approached the grass,

the week of waiting was up.

Kali stared at the party that had arrived, Mick whistling for everyone to get into position, Kali preparing for a fight, when a familiar face was illuminated by light.

Steve.

It had only been a week, but things had clearly changed. The kids were all gathered around Steve, even… Mike?, being clearly affectionate and protective of the older boy.

He looked different, but not like a change had occurred, more like a type of mask had slipped off.

The boy had gained muscle, the look in his eyes was less forced, and his strides were confident, the bruising in his face having almost completely subsided.

She smiled at him, and went to hug him. Kali hesitated slightly when he flinched, a minuscule expression of uncertainty and terror flashing across his face as he embraced her. She couldn’t really feel offended.

The first time Funshine had tried to hug her, she had kicked him, and been found in the corner, shivering through a panic attack.

The whole party looked exhausted, Joyce carrying one of the babies, Hopper the other, and the last one was fervently trying to wriggle his way out of the Byers boy’s arms.

It was a tired, beaten and weary family. But it was her family.

They would talk out a plan, and she would chat with her siblings.

Surprisingly enough, she was sat next to Nancy, Jonathan and Mike chuckling as they pushed the girls together, something about terrifying women, axes and shotguns.

Kali had never really taken to the girl, her old-fashioned hair, bleached white-knee-high socks making her seem… too clean… for Kali.

But this girl was made of grit and stone, the look in her eyes akin to Jane’s.

Young, unaccustomed to this chaos, but ready to fight.

“ How are you and E— Jane connected, Mike never really explained”,

she squeaked out, staring cautiously at the fire

“ We were both held in the same lab, and were basically treated the same way, until our powers properly manifested. Then she was taken to another lab, as was Steve with her, and whilst they were taken to Hawkins, I was taken in and out of labs, until I was also left in Hawkins.”

“Okay, and Steve. Tell me about Steve”

Kali paused, frowning. This girl had broken up, according to Jane, with Steve, and was now dating Jonathan.

Why would she ask?

But then it dawned on her. This girl, has just found out that the perfect, popular jock she was dating is just as messed up as the girl with the purple hair in a punk gang, and the scrawny girl in the corner who is asking what ‘magical” meant. It was also apparent that the children were not approving of her.

Some angled their bodies away from her when they were near Steve, in a mockery of what bodyguards did in movies.

They were perfectly amicable with Jonathan, but even Mike had a certain type of subtle coldness to her, which only intensified as he snuggled up to Steve.

This girl had broken something, and now she was trying to fix it.

“ You don’t have to tell me, its just… I messed up. Big time. And I need some help.”

“ Steve… I can’t tell you much about Steve because his story is very different to mine and Jane’s. First off, his parent willingly submitted him for experimentation, his mother occasionally taking him out on excursions. We have news that the military used him, sometimes as a distraction, other times as a full on weapon… I don’t know much more.”

Nancy nodded, before muttering, softly

“ How come I know so little? About both of them?”

Nancy was torn. Kali had just given her some more information, but, it had just made things worse.

It wasn’t just Steve, it was Barb too.

She had been given Barb’s journals, and had been horrified to realise how little she had known her friend. Little things, like which was her favourite band member from Queen, what triggered her asthma, what her favourite subject was and who she had a crush on.

She had known the big stuff, but it hurt to find so much new information in those journals. She missed Barb so much, and though she talked with Janice and Kate, it wasn’t the same.

And then, then after a year of coming to terms with the fact that there was another dimension, that her best friend was dead and that she knew very little about the lives of those around her, this happened.

Steve , normal, brainless Steve, who couldn't lie to save his life, turned out to be in a smilier situation as the girl that thrashed in the lukewarm pool screaming that Barb was gone.

She clenched her shaking fists as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Kali.

“ Look, Nancy, I don’t know what happened. But you have to decide. You have to decide whether the heat will melt you into a puddle, or spark you into a wildfire.”

She stared at the orange flames, licking into the night sky, and set her jaw.

She was not the Nancy Wheeler of 1982, wearing long skirts, having long hair and obeying her mother’s every word.

She was not the girl that flirted with boys for attention and that was more preoccupied with herself to notice the chaos around her.

She was Nancy Wheeler of now.

The one that had climbed into the other dimension and had escaped unscathed. The one that had snuck off to obliterate a government conspiracy through sheer lies. The one who had burnt a Mind Flayer out of a boy and had cremated a Demogrogon.

She walked over to where Steve was playing with Robbie, the three children who were dozing on his lap all shooting up at the sight of her, thinly veiled distrust poking at her as she approached him.

“Plan of Action. I’m making a list.’

Her voice sounded harsh and reedy against the cracking flames and the laughter of children and adults, but she needed this.

Needed to be strong.

“ We go to Washington. Two of us will go into a party, there we will find my parents. My mother is likely to support us, and from there we can find out what Brenner is planning, and just how far deep into the government this goes.”

She nodded sharply, wondering what to say, the blatant cooperation unexpected for her, considering the circumstances.

She opened her mouth to speak, Mike, Dustin and EL all starting to slowly chat, eyes flicking towards her, when Steve cut her to it.

“ Nancy, Jonathan is calling you. Tell the guys about the plan.”

She wanted to shout, well, she wanted him to shout at her. This polite submissiveness, this —- this lack of pushing and screaming and— this lack of King Steve unnerved her to her core. She had cheated. Steve knew very little, only suspicions, the kids knew ( Mike had  probably told them, she couldn’t bring herself to be angry), only Jonathan and the adults didn’t know and it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She wasn’t supposed to cheat, she wasn’t supposed to have her brother staring at her suspiciously.

But she would have to deal with this once it was all over.

Now the battle was over, and the war would commence.

And Nancy Wheeler was not going to let some drama get in the way of achieving peace and safety.

The plan was made. Kali would join the party, whilst Joyce, the punk group and the babies would stay behind, look out, send any news and hide out in the campsite.

Steve was happy.

The babies would be safe, and there would be no pressure on him to look after them and protect them from Brenner.

Sure, now Hopper was obsessively hovering, as was Kali, but his routine continued.

Sleep five hours, exercise, practice, play, be Steve, hide in his room until it was over, avoid Nancy and Jonathan, take pills, try not to think about when Nancy and Jonathan got together, sleep, have nightmares

It wasn’t a perfect cycle, but at this point, the kids were the one thing that were keeping him sane.

They made him a character in their make-shift dungeons and dragons game.

He taught Kali, Mike, Max and El how to cook basic dishes, them never having being allowed to learn due to gender bias, awful guardians or just plain lack of interest.

Max would know when he had been around people for too long, and would curl up next to him, and tell him stories of California, Lucas smiling, puppy eyed as she told tales of the beach, her mom’s clinic and of a life before the Hargroves.

He knew the kids knew something about Nancy and Jonathan, and not matter how curious he was, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

Not just because, ow, that would probably hurt, but also because now was not the time for mushiness,

Now was not the time for dramas, fights and division.

Will had forged a signature on two invitations. It had been decided, somewhat awkwardly, that he and Nancy would go.

He needed to be there, because only he knew what his parents looked like. He also needed a partner to dance with, to come as his “girlfriend.”

Nancy was the only person available. Going with El or Max would be … wrong. So, so wrong.

So Nancy.

Yeah.

He had done everything right. He had talked with Hopper, who had told him his options.

Steve had then gone to Nancy and Jonathan, asking Jonathan’s permission and Nancy’s acceptance.

The date had been set.

The outfits had been bought.

The party had been located.

It was just a matter of time.

Chapter Text

Steve looked at the mirror, and tried to hope that his would work.

His hair had begun growing back, a short stubble, that was thick enough to look like he had cut his hair this way on purpose. He was wearing a suit, black tie, ironed white shirt, concealer expertly blended onto his face by Mike, who had muttered defensively about Halloween, Cosplay and theatrical purposes as he made Steve look human again.

Nancy looked… beautiful.

But Steve couldn’t call Nancy beautiful, not anymore, not when she clearly loved Jonathan and they had just broken up, so he focused on preparing the mission.

They were to walk in as the newly-married Mr and Mrs Darlington, whom had recently inherited a large fortune after the death of Mr Darlington’s father, who had been working at an oil drill. They would spot Mrs Harrington, and take her outside, and, asking her permission, they would take her back and ask her.

The kids would be littered around the house, Lucas and Dustin working as waiters, Max and El as children of diplomats and Mike would be on security alert, looking for Brenner, Mr Harrington and anyone else. Hopper and the Byers would all be stationed arond the premises as waiting staff.

Steve steeled himself, before forcing his muscles to relax, smiling enough that his cheeks ached, wrapping his arm around Nancy’s waist as he gave himself a New York accent, sophisticated, but like he was clearly new money.

It shouldn’t have, but it was so nice to have some familiarity again.

Though he had hated the missions, he remembered fondly the undercover ones, snatching treats, dancing with mothers who missed their sons and just collecting information, not having to see the bloodshed or gore as he merely pointed out the oddly nervous man, the angry woman, the suspicious couple.

After taking some champagne and greeting some posh people, the music began.

And so the plan commenced, everyone dancing, the boys working in harmony to the music, weaving in and out of the couples as they served canapés, the girls giggling at intervals, occasionally returning to some random couple, and pretending to be their daughters in their absence.

The mission had taken off.

Mike watched from the corner, pretending to be a lazy servant of some sort, and tried to untangle the emotions in his head as he watched Nancy and Steve dance.

He was supposed to be closer to Nancy, and to have neutral, if not slightly negative feelings about Steve. But he had worked some things out, things that made him want to scream at his sister and feel sympathy for Steve.

Nancy had left on Friday morning, and had left in Will’s mom’s car. Jonathan had also gone missing at the same time. Fact

Steve had had a fight of some sort with Nancy, but had tried to fix it, and Nancy hadn’t gone through her usual break-up rants about his awfulness. They had still been together. Fact

Nancy and Jonathan reappear, Nancy is wearing Jonathan’s jumper, there is Nancy’s lipstick on Jonathan’s collar. Fact

Nancy has been acting guilty, Jonathan has been avoiding Steve recently, and Steve is utterly oblivious. Fact.

Mike knew that his protectiveness of Steve was strange, but he couldn’t help it.

Steve had protected Mike, when no one else had.

Steve had told El that her jealousy of Max wasn’t Max’s fault, but that it was that she loved Mike.

Steve had helped Dustin find the demo dog.

When all the adults had waved away the Party’s questions, worries and doubts, Steve had been there. Like Nancy and Jonathan should have been.

Mike had vowed the become Steve’s friend that night, when he had had the nightmare, and Mike watched.

Mike was the most observant of the party, and he had been the first to notice. The others had just needed a little nudging to see what was going on.

Steve wasn’t sleeping. He was practicing powers. Mike knew, because Mike had found Steve’s jumper in the bathroom, sleeves stained with smeared blood.

The adults were too oblivious to see that, despite the fact that Steve had medicine and that his bruises and scratches had healed, Steve was not okay.

So Mike had decided, that, yet again, the Party would have to do what the adults should be doing.

Protecting Steve from Nancy. Asking Steve to let them nap on his lap on long car rides, so Steve would sleep. Not asking about the seizures, medicine or rumpled clothes.

Dustin handed an older man one of the strange fish, cream pancakes , then froze

. The man didn’t notice Dustin’s hesitation, nor did he notice the flash of recognition, too focused on leering at the poor girl who was serving alcoholic drinks.

Dustin had never net than man before, but he knew who it was. The woman beside the man confirmed his suspicions.

The man had Steve’s straight nose, thick dark hair, and angular jaw, but none of the kindness nor emotions that Steve had. The man’s grey eyes were cold and dead, like a shark’s.

The woman had Steve’s hazel eyes and his athletic build, the same look in Steve’s eyes as to when he was talking with Nancy. Fear.

Dustin walked up to Mike, and quietly pointed out the Harringtons, wide blue eyes narrowing as Mike peered at the men below.

Steve hadn’t noticed them, but then again, Steve was busy.

The boy masqueraded perfectly, talking educatedly, with a weird accent as he told tales of his father, Mr Darlington and of holidays in the Caribbean, army training and Universities.

If Dustin hadn’t actually known Steve, he would have believed it him self.

Max was talking to Mrs Harrington, her coiffed red hair jiggling as she also spoke beautifully of her rich parents, that were just outide, taking a smoke.

Dustin snatched a tray of pickles and cheese, wandering around, trying to find El and Will. He paused before turning a corner, frowning at the familiar voice.

“ How long?!”

“Too long. He has help this time, from other subjects”

“You’ve managed to lose all of them.”

“No. If we find one, we find the other two, possible the new subjects as well. Give me time.”

Dustin paled, Mr Harrington’s coat tails flapping beside him as he spoke to Mr Brenner.

Brenner was here.

They had to run.

Now.

Nancy stood beside Steve, trying to figure out how to be the girlfriend of this man.

Pretending to be in love with Steve was easy. ( She had  already done than for three months)

Pretending to be in love with Crispian Darlington was another thing altogether, especially when trying to keep the shock from her face.

It got harder when Dustin beckoned to her, terrified crystalline eyes looking at her when he spluttered out.

“Brenner’s here. We need to get Mrs Harrington and go.”

She should have gone to round everyone up, but then one of Ste— Crispian- Call me Cris—’s new friends called her over, and stared asking her questions on her dress, makeup and shoes.

So here she was, trying to signal to Steve that , though he was doing a spectacular job, they needed to go now.

El was their saving grace. Shyly walking up to Steve, curls pinned back as she looked at him, the perfect picture of childhood innocence.

“Can you take me outside, Mr Cris?”

He chuckled, making a show of being a gentleman, before following her outside.

El’s act dropped as did Steve’s, and Nancy for a second pondered the irony of her being the only one who had taken drama classes out of everyone.,

El seemed to be in on the act, her serious expression marring her youthful, almost cherub-like features.

“Papa is here. We must go.” Her voice wavered a little.

Steve turned to her, his eyes tired and his face worn with stress.

“Nancy, get my mom. Tell her that you are my ….friend.”

So Nancy went, and watched as the kids all slowly trickled out, from falsified yawns, to a burning smell from the kitchen.

The hosts looked bewildered but happy.

A scandal in their house would mean sympathy from all of their business partners.

Nancy saw a woman, alone.

Steve’s eyes, posture and expression written all over her. The woman smiled. She followed Nancy out.

But , despite the woman's compliance she can tell that the next few hours will be interesting

Maria Harrington allowed the thin girl to take her outside.

The girl — Nancy— had told her that she was a friend of Steve’s.

Maria did not know what to do.

The woman obediently trailed after the girl, walking uncertainty into a large metal room. Many pairs eyes stared at her, some in anger, others in curiosity.

One pair of eyes she looked for.

She had not physically seen her son in ten years, the image of a bruised, thin eight-year old, angry eyes and defiance radiating from him, burned into her mind.

A man stepped out.

He was tall, taller than Henry, and had broad shoulders, muscular but lithe, like he was part of some armed force. He had Henry’s nose, her eyes, and a determined look in his eye.

Her son.

There were clearly some things that were wrong, the light of the motel room revealing the copious amounts of makeup on her boy’s face, his hair a little too short for comfort, and tremors running down his arm as he glared at the light fixture.

“Hello, Steve.” Her voice quivered slightly, the other woman and an older man looked at her sympathetically, before their looks hardened.

“Mother.”

The voice was tired and cold, his eyes refusing to meet hers as he clenched his shaking hands into fists, stuffing them into his pockets.

She did not know how to respond.

A small girl stepped out. She had been acting as Gerald and Gertrude’s daughter, but now, blood was streaming from her nose as she forced the lamp to shine into her face.

“ What is Papa doing? What is Mister Harrington doing with Papa?”

Maria blinked, wondering who “Papa” was, before another boy, older, but not by much also stepped forward, shaggy black hair covering his eyes.

“She means Brenner. Brenner’s kidnapped three babies in the past six months. We need to know how to destroy him.”

Maria Harrington tried her best not to gasp, but failed miserably.

Brenner would never be gotten rid of until he was killed.

Brenner was friends with Reagan, dined with senators almost weekly, and had support from members of both parties. He was being funded by almost every major university, Stanford, Harvard, Yale, and had very rich friends.

When she vocalised this, the reactions were startling. The curly-haired girl sobbed into the boy’s skinny arms, the boy trying very hard not to cry as Nancy rubbed his shoulder.

Two similar looking boys forlornly leaned against each other in the corner, a huddle of two boys and a girl all slumping in misery against each other.

Her son’s reaction was worse than the sobbing, shaking and desperate reaches for comfort.

His entire body seemed to mirror defeat, his shoulders curling in on themselves, the concealer coming off as he rubbed his face in frustration, revealing violet-brown eye-bags and green bruising.

Maria wished to comfort her son, but she didn’t know how.

All she could do was help.

“Brenner has been sending my husband letters. If you stay in town, for just a few more days, I can photocopy all of the letters, and give them to you.”

They all looked up in relief. As she returned to the dinner party, she prepared for tomorrow.

She would have to possibly sedate her husband, photocopy the papers, send them, and then come up for a good reason for his three hour nap.

This was not going to be easy.

When she left, not a single person spoke.

Steve wanted someone to break the silence, something to distract him.

His mother had been right there, and she hadn’t said anything to him, other than “Hello, Steve”

But he did what he had done for years. Take this memory, shove it into a small, neat, locked box in the corner of his brain, and deal with it later.

Preferably Never.

He walked to Hopper, and looked him in the eyes, ignoring the odious concern and pity in them, and asked,

“ Shall I take the kids out to get dinner? They haven’t eaten.”

Hopper stared at him for a bit, and then reluctantly nodded. Steve grabbed El, Max, and the boys, and asked them where they wanted to go, a bright grin on his face that was just a little too wide to be real

“Right then, we want burgers, right? Yeah, fries, and then—“

Dustin cut him off, the rest of the kids all halting on the sidewalk, nodding as Dustin just said,

“ Look Steve, what just happened sucked, like, majorly sucked. Pretend for the adults but don’t do that to us, ‘kay. It ain’t fair if you get to wake us up from nightmares, but we just get King Steve.”

The kids nodded at him, Mike glaring at him, Max muttering about “emotionally repressed idiots.”

He gave a sharp nod, then walked on, fighting the rising panic in his chest by making lists.

His head was full of lots of lists, and now, he was struggling to make one. His thoughts were all jumbled, a steady blue trickle of emotion blurring them, not letting him think properly.

He turned into the diner and ordered a ton of food, enough to keep everyone going for the next few days.

He gave the kids their burgers, everyone shoving a mouthful of fries in their mouth before stuffing the rest into their ruck-sacks, when everything went silent.

Steve turned around, the silence eerie, the streetlights flickering as he checked if an electricity problem, or a weather problem was causing the uncomfortable tension that had fallen on the small diner.

He knew he looked out of place, short hair, business suit, face greasy with makeup, but the looks he was getting from the diner staff were causing the hairs on the back of his neck to prick up.

Something was wrong.

Max had been staring at Steve for a while, the boys all munching on their handfuls of fries, El glaring suspiciously at the relish on her fry.

Steve was standing perfectly still, ( chest still rising, good, hands trembling, bad), but his eyes were flickering everywhere, blood collecting at his right nostril as he played with the light fixtures, the smells and the emotions in the diner.

Max felt it, it was subtle, nothing like it had been in th forest, but the panic was spreading. It wasn’t fun blown, hyperventilating, crying screaming panic either, but she recognised the feeling.

It was the same feeling she got when her mom was out, and Billy or Neil would come home, the suspicion when either of them brought a “friend” back home, and the urge to run when the smell of cheap liquor and cigars hit her when the door opened.

But a foreign feeling was also in the mix, the same feeling she got when she yelled at Billy for being mean to Lucas

Steve was scared, suspicious and protective, and she didn’t know why.

But she knew that instincts were good, and that they had to leave this place, fast. Max slid the pepper spray out of her bag, into  the pocket of her jacket, then went to Steve, whinging about tiredness, and sore legs and long days.

He seemed relieved when everyone walked from the diner, when a bullet hit the car, two feet away from them

Max felt her heart thumping as she grabbed Lucas’ hand, his cold coffee-coloured hand wrapping her clammy white one.

Another gunshot sounded, and it ws heading straight for El, when it stopped mid-air.

Max curiously looked at it, brushing fiery hair from her pale, freckled face as she observed the floating… thing.

It didn’t look like a bullet, more like the needle that she had stabbed Billy with, a strange clear liquid running down the front of the invisible shield.

Mike whispered,

“Brenner’s found us.”

El let a tear slip out, and everyone’s faces paled to another degree, when Steve’s demeanour changed completely. His back straightened, his muscles relaxed and his face went blank.

The only thing that stopped him from looking like a soldier was the blood dripping from his nose onto his lip.

“Everyone stay in a group, hold hands if possible. Stay behind me. Breathe slowly and deeply, and Do Not Speak. Max, have that pepper-spray ready, Mike get the knife I put in your boot out and Lucas get the catapult and the rocks I put in your bag out. El, use your powers if you can, and Dustin… get the nail bat from my bag. Will, if you can see their faces, commit them to memory. I need to know who we are up against”

  There was a faint rustling of clothes, a few open-mouthed expressions, when everyone got into formation.

A fight was brewing.

Meanwhile, in the small motel room, the adults remained.

Hopper was shaken by the news of Brenner’s appearance, Joyce was flitting between rocking one of the babies and telling Nancy to eat more and the babies seemed content to just gurgle.

The tense atmosphere only increased when they heard sirens in the distance, the group having been out for almost three-quoters of an hour, too long for a quick five minute walk to a diner and back.

The sirens got louder, and the blue lights flashed past the window. Police car. Ambulance.

The questions whirled in everyone’s heads, What had happened? In this rich area, with minimal theft or murder, what had happened? Why were the kids not back?

After half an hour more of tense waiting, Hopper occasionally pacing as Nancy and Jonathan talked in low voices in the corner, a key turned.

They all watched, transfixed at the doorknob turned. The kids were back.

But something had happened.

All of them were pale and sweaty, El had blood crusted on her lip, and Steve’s ears and nose were covered in crusted and fresh blood.

The rest of the kids hastily stuffed various items into their bags, and them slumped into a pile.

Some of them had scratches on their arms, others were clutching onto their friends’ hands.

Will snatched a pile of papers from the motel pad, and frantically sketched, Joyce looking away, the memories of those blue, crayon vines still haunting her.

Steve grimaced, popping a pill and swallowing it, not offering anyone any explanations as to what had happened.

Jonathan quietly stood up, and stared at Will’s drawings.

The faces of three men stared back at him.

He took the pencil from Will’s hand, and crouched down, and gently asked what was wrong.

“Brenner found us. We have to leave Jonathan. He wants El and Steve, but he — he “ Will stammered before slumping into Jonathan's arms, sobbing.

Jonathan looked up at Nancy, who was staring at Steve.

There was a thin line of blood on his neck.

Chapter Text

Steve was not happy.

Sure, attempted murder and kidnapping whilst trying to care for a group of six kids was not, usually, a promising source of happiness, but Hopper’s words just drove the dull feeling to slight despair.

His routine would be messed up. If he wasn’t able to leave the room alone, people would notice. People would see the seizures, they would notice that he wasn’t sleeping more than five hours a night, and that, was not good.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as Eleven creeped closer to him, and cuddled up next to his left side, Dustin gently snoring on the right.

For a moment, Steve pondered moving them to a better position, but the couch was soft, and their backs would not suffer too much, lest they slept strangely. The girl let her head rest against his shoulder, and he wondered at the contrast in her.

This girl had thrown a force to send the men stumbling back, Steve had just amplified it, channeling calm as they slumped into walls or trees. The girl had then, as the other children ensured that the men were unconscious, gestured to some cars, turning them so that Steve could send them flying. Though Steve had kept the shield up, and had helped her, the child that was gently snoring on his shoulder, clotting a pillow, much like the sleeping infant on his chest was clutching his shirt, was the same child that had rendered multiple army officers unconscious.

On his right, he looked at the curly headed boy, focusing his eyes on the messy mop of caramel ringlets rather than the glares from Nancy, Jonathan, and the adults at his lack of sleep.

The lights were switched off.

As his sense of sight was deprived, everything else amplified, from the weariness of his bones, to the stinging cuts on his arms and neck, compounded with the affection for the children in the room, and the panic that was rising in his gut about the situation.

He contemplated closing his eyes, hoping that shutting out light completely would let his senses fade, is emotions recede, to go back to that dormant state of feeling nothing. His bones settled into the couch, and he begged and pleaded with his brain, a strange form of counting sheep, the words ringing around his head:

“Just for two days. No seizures. No nightmares. Look normal.”

The first time the strange phrases rattled around his head, he almost snorted.

“Normal”.

When had he ever been normal? Pretending to be normal was easy. Maintaining being normal required work, and even then there were slip ups.

From exaggerating the lack of knowledge of “King Steve”, (Like the Nazis?) to being just a bit too calm after being beaten up, pretending to be normal was hard.

But just then, the teenager did something normal.

He readjusted the blanket to cover the four of them, and quietly slipped off to sleep, at one o’clock in the morning.

Dustin woke up when his matress/pillow/teddy bear/brother jolted.

He noticed that this clearly wasn’t the first time that Steve had woken up, his hair was messy and sweaty, and he was cold, but his sweatshirt had changed, and Barbie was now gurgling in her sleep with Johnnie and Robbie, in the make-shift cot.

Dawn was just breaking, and for a minute, everything was still.

Both boys looked out of the window, the shutters just open enough to see the sun rise above the trees, a watercolour painting of yellows, oranges, pinks stained with white wispy clouds. Then Dustin frowned when Steve’s nose wrinkled, his eyes screwing up in pain, then dilating in panic.

Something was wrong with Steve, he was in pain, scared and he looked like he was struggling to make a decision.

Everyone else slept on, El, curled around the pillow, muttering something about Five, Mike and Eggos.

“ Dustin… can you come with me to the hallway?”

He wanted to ask he usually did, but the urgency with which Steve snatched a pillow and a blanket from the floor, then looked at him slightly desperately, Dustin knew he could not say no.

He followed him out, to see Steve rolling the blanket up against the wall, his eyes squinting at the light, then handing a pillow to Dustin.

“What—?” Dustin began, when Steve paled enormously , and just said.

“Shove it under my head when it begins. Just…. don’t tell anyone.”

Steve went rigid as he went to sit on the dirty carpeted motel floor, then thudded like a stone, his limbs twitching, glazed eyes looking out miserably as his hands and legs twitched.

Dustin jumped into action, swearing viciously under his breath as he shoved the pillow under Steve’s head, and tried to hold the head still, praying for it to finish. Dustin tried not to sob in relief as he the twitching stopped, and that relief was quickly engulfed by frustration.

Steve had been deceiving them.

He had been taking the pills, and acting like they worked properly, stopping the fits completely, but no. The problem had continued.

El had evidently woken up, and was peering at them, from the door. Dustin silently beckoned her to the hallway, and she silently stepped out, the door swinging open then shutting seamlessly behind her.

“ He is hurt.”

“Yes”

“ He is pret… pretending to be okay, but he is not?”

“Yeah El.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want us to worry.”

“Stupid. Don’t be Stupid.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a soft groan, hazel eyes blearily fluttering open, confusion coming over the boy’s features before his eyes flashed in recognition, then panic.

“ Come on, lets go back in. I’m okay, this is nothing, lets just go in,’kay?”

The children shared looks, before following him in.

They had to look after their big brother, especially if he wasn’t doing so himself.

After breakfast as usual, El pattered over to Mike, and he looked up, swiping his raven curls from his face as he looked at her concerned features.

“We need to call a meeting. Steve is not okay.”

Mike nodded, before stopping. They were all enclosed in this motel room, the bathroom being the only place for secrecy.

He sighed, rubbing his milk stained mouth on his sleeve before speaking.

The things he did for love.

“ Okay, you get Max and Wil, I’ll get the rest. We’ll met up in the bathroom, and then we can talk.”

She nodded, and then softly pressed her lips to his cheek, a blush forming as he walked to Dustin, who, before he could even speak, just nodded, and asked,

“Where?”

Mike’s brows furrowed at the exhaustion in Dustin’s tone, and the defeated look of his eyes.

The rest followed into the slimy bathroom. Will and Max leant against the shower, Dustin and El sat on the toilet seat and Lucas sat on the edge of the sink.

“Okay, guys, explain. What’s wrong with Steve?”

“He isn’t sleeping.”

“The seizures haven’t stopped, and he’s been dealing with them alone.”

“ He has nightmares.”

“My brother says that he isn’t talking to them, and he doesn’t talk to us much”

At each statement, the children all grew more and more concerned for their brother’s health.

Mike paused at that thought.

When had Steve become his brother?

But then again, the analogy was perfect. He looked after Max the way that Billy was meant to, he annoyed and protected Dustin and… he was filling up the Nancy/Dad shaped hole that had formed in the past year.

Yeah, their big brother was in trouble.

And the Party had to fix it, because just being nice to him wasn’t enough.

“Okay, so, what do we do?” he asked, and at that, El pulled the notepad from Will’s pocket, and it floated over into Mike’s hands, a pencil following after.

Will looked to surprised to object, so Mike began a list, everyone coming up with ideas:

• Get Steve to look after the babies at night. This forces him to sit down, and sleep.
• Cuddle Steve more, and check to see is he is not feeling well.
• El ,be on alert to sense any twitches, headaches or spasms from Steve
• Dustin and Will, build a fort/ safe space incase Steve has a seizure
• Lucas and Mike, get Steve involved in games, so he doesn’t think too much
• Max and El, make sure that Steve eats.

It was a makeshift plan, pondered Mike as the scribbled list went round the room, but it was the least they could do.

Mike had to help Steve, not only because it was the obvious decent thing to do, but also because of El.

After the van, El had been tired, pale and shaky, and Mike had been so scared for her. Last night, Steve had helped her, giving her energy, and she had only been a little tired, whereas Steve had been shattered.

Also, Steve was there for the Party. When Dustin felt sick in the car, Steve went and cleaned him up. When Mike had nightmares, it was Steve who got him back to sleep. When El was frustrated but nervous of her powers coming out, Steve and her would go out, and she could come back okay.

Steve looked out for them.

Now it was time for them to look after Steve.

Maria Harrington anxiously stirred the triclofos sodium syrup into the large cup of black coffee.

Her husband has demanded that each day at eleven o’clock she had to bring him his coffee. After almost twenty years of obeying his demands, this was payback.

It would take half an hour for him to fall asleep, and then she would have an hour and a half to get the papers, photocopy them, print them, and then get them into a secure hiding place, whilst ensuring that no one saw her.

This was going to be very, very hard.

She added a spritz of hairspray to her hair, and looked at her outfit. It was tight and uncomfortable, but it was the type of outfit that her husband wanted her to wear.

She knocked on his oaken door, and stepped in, demurely setting the coffee down before the man, he just grunted at her, leered, then handed her a few hundred dollar bills.

He drank it, frowning slightly, before shrugging, and gulping the coffee down, Maria flinching as the mug thudded down on the table.

“Look, honey. I’ve got some important stuff to do right now… so it you could go that’d be great darlin’”

Maria nodded, trtying her best not to snarl as she walked off. She had never rebelled against him but.. that girl… Nancy? and the other woman… Joy? had made her rethink.

The girl had, the minute they were out of the party, ditched her heels in a bush, and had later re-emerged with a bare face and her hair up in a messy bun. She was confident and, though obviously was in love with the other boy, was secure of herself. The woman with the auburn hair, kind eyes and protectiveness in her posture reminded Maria what she should have been. Of how she should have fought for her baby.

Time was up, loud snores emitting from the room.

She dashed in, and grabbed the documents from Brenner, ignoring the murmur of “Katie” from her husband.

Idiot.

She ran downstairs, and photocopied them onto the machine, and tried not to cry as the arduously long task began.

She only had forty five minutes left.

She ran upstairs, and put the papers back in their places, then grabbed the photocopies, a startlingly large stack, and placed them where her pads were.

Her husband would never go there.

Part one was over, she thought as she reapplied her makeup, ensuring that she maintained the “submissive, air-headed housewife” look that her husband seemed to adore.

Now, it was time for Part two to begin.

Steve looked over at El, and saw her frustration leaking out of her, like a fog of reddish-grey was clouding around her.

He had no idea what Brenner had put inside that tank, but it was like all of his powers had suddenly grown. From amplifying forces and manipulating emotions, he could now sense them, emotions as fogs surrounding a person’s body, forces as sounds, the stronger the force, the higher the pitch of the sound.

El needed to get out, she was restraining her powers, the lights flickering just enough to make Steve look at her pinched brows and the blood under her nose.

The girl was obviously unused to suppressing her powers, and she needed to let loose.

The boy walked over to Mrs Byers, and gently asked if he could take El out on a quick excursion. She nodded, giving him a rather odd look, which he couldn’t decipher, the colours swirling around her making little sense to him.

“El, d’you want to come out and take a walk”

The rest of the kids seemed to catch on, mouths opening then closing. Nancy and Jonathan frowned confusedly, but then shrugged.

The smaller girl trailed after him, her eyes unnervingly flickering from his hands, to his head, then to his face. Steve knew she had questions about what had happened this morning, but to be honest, he didn’t have answers.

Billy had smashed a plate on his head. He had passed out, then lead the kids through the nightmare that was those tunnels. Then a haze of pain and white lights ended in him waking up in a hospital. And, despite the small white pills that he was taking, he was having seizures at least every other day.

They finally found a field, abandoned, with no security cameras, and no electricity pylons.

“Okay, El. Have fun. You need to let that out now before it consumes you.”

He didn’t bother explains himself. The girl knew what he was talking about, and began concentrating on the trees in front of her.

The leaves on the muddy floor began to swirl in patters, reds and browns flying low, in circles and loops all over the field.

It was beautiful.

“Join in.”

The teenage boy blinked, before comprehension consumed him. She wanted him to participate.

He closed his eyes, and found the mound of freshly cut grass, and, using the wind and El’s force, he intertwined it with the leaves, a braid of red-brown flowing over and under a stream of bright green.

It was an odd sight. A boy and a girl, one almost an adult, the other, almost a child, smiling as blood streamed from their noses, observing as they rebelled against the forces of nature.

But then, things began to go wrong.

El was happy. Steve was with her, and they were practicing their powers, and it felt good to use them for something other than destruction, for once.

But then, a lot of things happened to ruin their time.

The wheels of a car, screeched nearby, Bad Men, men with Guns stalking out of it. She quickly forced the leaves to go down with the grass. T

he Bad Men hadn’t seen them, but they had seen the leaves and grass fall from the air.

El grabbed Steve’s hand, and he swung her over his back in one swift motion, before sprinting off into the woods.

He ran fast, her back was jolted up and down with each step, and she felt guilty as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He kept on running, but she noticed that he wasn’t okay.

His breath’s were getting too deep and hoarse, his heart beating too fast for comfort under her hands.

She nearly fell off multiple times, when he stumbled, his hands going up to his head.

His Head.

They were in the middle of the forrest, an hour having passed since they had left the motel.

They were lost, and El’s stomach grumbled angrily, the clock on Steve’s watch reading thirteen - three -zero.

Steve slowed down to a stop, and El jumped off his back, his face was pale and he was clutching his head in pain.

The small girl manoeuvred him to sit down, when It happened again.

El sobbed as his head thrashed on her lap, and then gasped in shock as his temple hit the edge of a branch.

After four minutes It stopped, but their was a thin stream of blood going down his face, and all he did once he woke up was throw up on the damp grass.

As tear tracks ran down her face, and his eyes fluttered back shut with exhaustion, gunshots began to ring out through the trees.

She wiped her tears off her face, then shook Steve’s shoulder, and dragged him up so he was standing.

He blinked at her, tired, achy and confused, when another round of gunshots began, his eyes widening as he wiped his mouth.

They began to run again, El’s small skinny legs following Steve’s tired muscular ones, their hands linked together tightly, tear track running down El’s face as she ran and they got deeper and deeper into the woods.

This was a Bad Situation. And both of them knew it.

Dr Brenner stood in the field, his men marching around it.

It had just been chance that he had seen 005 and 011 approaching the woods, and he had immediately called his men into action.

That had been a glorious moment, seeing his two best creations working in harmony.

The image had been ruined by their disgusting wish for freedom.

They children had run into the woods, and hadn’t been seen since. But it was not a problem.

Brenner had stationed men so that the forest was completely surrounded.

Two children would not last for long, alone, in the woods without food nor shelter.

A hunt had begun, and this time, no heart attack and no inter-dimensional monster would aid their escape. He would have his subjects back.

And the connections and money of Sir Harrington, combined with his own intellectual prowess and his world-wide recognition in the scientific community would change the course of, not only this war, but the course of all of any future wars.

It was just a matter of time.

Chapter Text

Jim Hopper was not a man that was usually nervous.

Well, he was, but it was usually well justified.

Knowing that the government has a secret lab fronting as an energy company that wants to kidnap your daughter is, he thought, a very good justification for his nervousness. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something…. something just wasn’t right.

Sure, he knew where everyone was.

The kids, the babies and Joyce were all in the motel room, no alarms, or gunshots or screams had been heard. Steve and Jane were taking a walk, Mike had told him that El had been getting frustrated, and that had just spoken for itself.

Frustrated teenagers sometimes broke vases or rules.

Frustrated Jane’s smashed windows and overturned beds with just a thought.

The two teenagers had been gone just a bit too long.

A half-hour walk was fine.

An hours walk was uncomfortable.

An hour and a half walk was really, really nerve wracking.

The knowledge that Henry Harrington and Martin Brenner were in town, was not, exactly, a nice thing to think about. He could tell that the kids were worried too.

Mike kept running his hands through his hair, and was not concentrating on the game that he was supposed to be leading. Dustin was tapping his hands on his knees, and his eyes flickered to the door and to the windows every other minute.

That was when he heard it. It was sublte, and, maybe, if he hadn’t been on such a high alert, he couldn’t have heard it.

The sound of gunshots, about a mile or so away.

That, compounded with the sequence of energy company vans all in a file going past the window just served to confirm his suspicions. Joyce, Mike and Will all looked up at him, four pairs of legs running to the window, as they all stared outside, Johnnie bursting into tears at being placed on the cot so suddenly.

Everyone else followed, hands cautiously lifting the cheap blinds to stare horrified as the vans sped off.

Max spoke, her soft scared voice just rising above the grief-stricken gasps,

”They’ve found them, haven’t they.”

Lucas nodded at her, and Mike sort of crumbled onto the floor, staring blankly at the cheap, grey carpet.

What were they supposed to do?

They couldn’t leave without the information from Mrs Harrington, they couldn’t all leave, because the babies would be recaptured, and, for all he knew, Brenner might just grab the other kids and start experimenting on them too.

There was nothing to do, but to sit there, in the cold, dark room, and to try not to think about the fates of the two kids.

It was, judging by the sun, about four o’clock in the afternoon when they stopped, at what they presumed was the heart of the forest.

El was panting heavily at his side, her cheeks red and streaked with sweat and tears.

He had found an upturned oak tree, and though the smell of rotting, damp wood wasn’t exactly pleasant, it could function as a shield or a hiding place. And possibly, depending on Brenner’s stubbornness, a source of food.

Steve didn’t know where to go from here. Brenner obviously had the woods surrounded, so they couldn’t leave, or go near the edges.

He couldn’t hear running water, and it had recently rained, so building fires or making a dry underground shelter was out of the question.

Food was also a problem.

There were no bins, and no wildlife to kill, and he hadn’t seen any berries or plants other than trees or grass.

This sucked.

If they stayed here, they would become weak with hunger and stress. If they went with Brenner, there would be little chance of escape, and they would probably end up dying in that cold lab.

El wiped her sweaty curls from her face, then looked up at him, dark brown eyes boring into hazel ones as she asked,

“ Why have you been stupid?” He frowned.

He knew he had been stupid, and had made some terrible decisions, but he wasn’t quite sure which one she was referring to.

“Why have you been hiding that you are hurt?”

Oh.

That.

Steve chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering how to answer this, when he spoke, softly, in a shameful quiet tone,

“ I can’t be useful if i’m hurt. I need to be strong, and strong people don’t show when they are hurt. I’m sorry El.”

He looked up, and knew that he needed to do… he needed to do something, when a small hand grabbed his arm, and then stared at him, angrily.

“ Will was hurt, and he is strong. Dad was hurt and he was strong. You are hurt , but you are strong.”

The words were simple, but the meaning went straight to his core. He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

“We will get through this. We are strong.”

Steve smiled at her, and then closed his eyes, filtering through his memories to see if he could remember how he had survived that first year, before he had learnt how to steal.

Brenner would not get El.

Ever.

Maria Harrington waited for everything to go quiet.

For the maid to leave. For the dogs to be fed. For her husband to drink his glass of sherry, and doze in front of the television.

She walked into the bathroom ,and transformed.

Layers of makeup were wiped off, revealing pink lips and blonde eyelashes. Hairspray was brushed from her hair, its volume decreasing until it looked like she had slicked it with gel. Her corset was removed, and she put on comfortable, common clothing.

She looked human, not like the barbie-inspired houswife that her husband desired.

If she had it her way, she would wear long, brightly coloured skirts, soft, natural makeup, and would pin her hair back into a bun.

But, as the wife of Sir Harrington, that was not an option.

But, now, as she had to look human, it was. She dug into the drawer, and grabbed the thick file of papers. She placed them in a bin bag, then tiptoed across the house, before exiting through the maid’s quarters.

She put her hood up, the six-o’clock sunset working wonders to mask her appearance, before she arrived to the motel.

Maria walked up, and knocked on the door. It swung open, but before she could step in, she froze.

There was a gun being pointed at her.

The whole room breathed a sigh of relief, before she was ushered in, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“You’ve got the papers?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Okay”

Silence ruled, and the woman could not but feel that something was amiss.

Her son was supposed to be here. The little curly, hair girl that had called Brenner “Papa” was missing too.

“Where is my son?”

That question seemed to break the tension, and as some just sat down, staring unseeing at the window, others just gasped back sobs.

The other woman… Joyce, spoke in a sorrowed voice.

“ Him and Jane— the girl, went missing. They went for a walk, and didn’t come back. It looks like… it lookalike Brenner found them.”

Maria nodded, blood draining from her face.

She had to find him.

Otherwise, she might never get him back.

Maria would have to join herself to this odd group of people, if she was ever to atone for the horrible mistakes that her husband and herself had made.

She had to save her son from the fate she had doomed him to.

She was not going to be Maria Harrington.

She would be Maria Reminton again.

Night was falling.

Night never actually fell, but she had heard Dad say it, so it probably meant that Night was coming.

It was Dark. She didn’t like the Dark. Dark meant cold. Dark meant monsters. Dark meant other dimensions.

But Eleven was not alone. Five was protecting her. He wasn’t Steve anymore, not now.

Steve was not smart. Steve was always joking and happy.

Five was smart. Five was neutral.

Eleven munched on the leaves, and on the protein bar which Steve had given her.

They had been hiding behind the fallen tree, when his eyes had lit up, and he had reached to his boot, and cut a protein bar from the heel.

He had cautiously handed it to her, before grabbing some leaves and observing them.

Some were discarded.

Others were handed for her to eat. Eleven wasn’t stupid, either.

She knew that they were in a Bad Situation.

There were only two protein bars, and though Five wasn’t eating, that could only last them two days. They also couldn’t talk, because every now and then, they would hear heavy footsteps, the occasional shot in the dark, and flashes of light.

Eleven was trying her best not to talk, because she had very, very many questions.

Why had Papa found them? Why wasn’t Steve getting better? What would Papa do once he found them? Had Papa found Dad, and Mike?

She didn’t like thinking about it, but there was very little she could do other than think.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and practicing her powers was completely out of the question. She sighed softly, lying down on the damp, but not mushy, forest floor, wrapping Five’s hoodie around her, the thick material reaching her knees, before she curled up, and was entirely enveloped by the boy’s hoodie.

Her curls were getting damp, and the ground felt slimy against her cheek, the smell of muddy water, freshly cut grass and smoke from the earlier gunshots infiltrating her nose.

Gunshots

. They hadn’t used the tran— tranqua— sleep injections like last time. Those had been loud and fast, but no gunshots.

Five slowly padded back to her, having left to scout the area, and he came back looking sorrowfully at his hand.

Eleven’s worst fears were confirmed. Inside the palm of his hand was a round, metal bullet.

Papa was a Very Bad Man

She wantedhim to talk, wanted Five to reassure her that it was a toy, or fake, or —something.

But Five just picked her up, and cradled her into his lap, and Eleven fell asleep to the soft sound of breathing, her big brother’s heartbeat, and the exhaustion of the adrenaline draining from her bloodstream.

Mike frantically read the files.

His teachers had always said that he was a fast reader, and he had usually brushed it off, not caring about it unless there was a grade or a nice report card review involved. The boy was immensely thankful for his gift at that moment.

The papers had been split into four piles.

There was the pile concerning Brenner’s links to other political powers, there was the pile concerning El, the once concerning Steve, and the one concerning any other subjects.

The adults had taken the ones which talked about any other subjects, every now and then a strangled gasp, a gulp of nausea or a choked sob would be heard from where Mrs Byers, Hopper and Mrs Harrington were.

Judging by the murderous look on Hopper’s face, and the fact that they had all grabbed the babies, and were clutching the sleeping babes to their chests like furious hens spoke for itself.

Dustin and Max had taken the file on Steve. Max had miraculously gone two shades paler since she had begun reading, her pale skin making her look translucent in the low light of the motel room. Dustin had run to the bathroom to throw up, twice.

Mike was worried, his usually happy-go-lucky friend was seething, and Hopper had rested to passing the kid a pillow to scream into.

Nancy, Jonathan and Will were all poring over the files on Brenner’s political, social and financial connections.

Nancy was seconds away from tears, but she kept rubbing her eyes to stop herself from doing so, her face smudged in grey streaks. Jonathan was scowling at the papers, occasionally muttering “ I knew it!”, before gritting his teeth. Will would read the files, take deep steadying breaths, before writing the connection on what was becoming a rather long list.

And that was how he was sat with Lucas, reading the files on what Brenner had done, ad what he planned to do to El.

Mike had already given up trying to swat the tears from his eyes, and just settled on letting them roll down his cheeks, onto the yellow paper.

They had to find El and Steve. They had to. They couldn’t let Brenner do what he wanted, no, they just couldn’t because—

Brenner had a plan, a plan which only solidified with each word of his that Mike read.

Brenner wanted to make Steve and El into machines.

He wanted to use his—his experiments to take away their free will, so they would let him or Steve's Dad become President.

Mike couldn’t just sit there, waiting.

He had to do something.

Steve sat in the darkness, the stars shining brightly through the trees, the curved crescent moon staring at him.

El had slept for hours now, and had slept dreamlessly, her curls laying on his lap, as he slowly rocked her back and forth.

There were too many memories.

Sure, it helped to remember that frantic night when he had opened the soles of all his shoes and stuck a protein bar inside. It helped to know what leaves and berries were edible, and which were poisonous. It helped to know what their chances of survival were, so he could plan ahead.

However, it was not helpful that his brain reminded him of the emotions that had come with gaining this helpful information.

It did not help to remember the awful panic at not having food on hand, the memories of a gnawing ache in his stomach. The memories of eating poisoned berries were not, pleasant either, shaking with fever as he threw up onto the snow. Hiding in the igloo, knowing that the fact that he wasn’t cold anymore, in his thin t-shirt and jeans, was not a good sign.

But he couldn’t help it.

El stirred, frowning, as he resumed rocking her back and forth, carding his hands through her curls, which were stiff with dried sweat, and her face eventually smoothed out, back into blissful dreamlessness.

They would have to run for it.

If only Kali were here instead of him, she could mask them, and hide them. If Hopper were here, he could use his police badge. If—

A flashlight shone on a tree, Five observing it through the corner of his eyes.

He slowed his breathing, taking only shallow, soundless breaths, as he curled protectively around El.

The footsteps came closer.

Twigs snapped.

The squelching of wet leaves sounded.

Heavy boots sunk into red-brown mush.

Steve waited, and prayed, begged and pleaded silently that they would not find him.

The flashlight moved.

He heard a gruff, tired voice sound out through the silent forest, the sound ringing out through the ebony darkness of the night

. Dustin lay in his bed, the horrific letters still flashing before his eyes.

005

Two numbers. Three digits.

They had been in his life since he alert to count age three. And yet as he had gone through the files, earlier, he had silently pleaded to — to anything—- that the person they were talking about wouldn’t have those numbers to their names.

The files on gagging the child at intervals when he screamed too much. The letter to Mr Harrington asking him to let his wife come, because the child had refused to talk in weeks.

They couldn’t let Brenner get Steve back.

Dustin knew that it was more selfishness than selflessness that was driving his cause.

He wanted Steve. He didn’t want the awesome guy that had faces three demo-dogs alone with a spiked bat, his epic big brother that would mess his curls up, to be taken. He wanted his big brother back.

Then Dustin sat up, hearing the rustling of fabric. Mike’s blue eyes stared at him, glowing in an almost cat-like way.

“We can’t leave them.”

“No” whispered Dustin back, “We can’t stay here.”

Max blearily looked at them, shaking Lucas awake, who in turn grumbled sleepily, and that woke up Will.

“Whasgoinon?” slurred Will, and everyone’s eyes flicked to Mike, when Dustin spoke.

“Were getting Steve and El back.”

Mike nodded, and everyones expressions turned grim, five pairs of eyes hardening.

They tiptoed around the motel room.

Max grabbed her pepper spray, Mike fondly pulled Steve’s knife from his trainer boot, Lucas grabbed the catapult and some stones, Will pulled his brother’s handgun from his bag, uncertainly switching the safety off and then back on. And Dustin pulled Steve’s nail-spiked bat from his bag, everyone stopping and holding their breath as they heard one of the babies gurgled.

Dustin snatched his bag, and everyone else grabbed theirs, to ensure that the items were distributed fairly.

Everyone had two candy bars and three packets of chips. Mike, Max and Dustin had flashlights. Will, Lucas and Dustin had walkie-talkies.

The pack of children tiptoed out of the motel room, hoping that their friends were okay.

Henry Harrington woke up, rubbing his hand down his face, grimacing at the rough stubble on his chin scraping against hi skin.

He called out for his wife, wondering why she hadn’t brought him his breakfast.

She did not answer. He was enraged, expecting to hear light footsteps and the clacking of heels coming towards his room.

Nothing.

Maria had known.

Henry had known that it was risky to speak to Brenner at the dinner party, but he couldn’t keep learning about things through the tedious and long process of writing letters.

Maria had always disliked the idea of Brenner’s plans, but she had always been obedient, she had been a good, submissive wife.

Until now, apparently.

Where was the dratted woman?

He stood up, dressed himself, grumbling and recalling that maybe… maybe his wife did have a point.

She had nearly slipped into a coma twice due to the abundance of chemicals in her during hr pregancy, and she had nearly bled out during the birth… and his son did dislike him..

That odd moment of un-selfish feeling was dismissed as the problems of hunger, and overstress.

The Harrington name was what mattered.

Not his son’s ambitious dreams of freedom.

Not his wife’s strange ideals about autonomy.

No.

They would understand, once they had it explained to them. Henry discarded any worries about his missing wife quickly.

She could come back.

And the Harrington name would go down in history, as the legacy of the father that sacrificed his son to save America.

It was time to call Brenner.

They had to speed things up.

Now.

Joyce was the first one to wake up in the motel, the pitiful mewling of the hungry babies awakening her.

She sleepily stumbled towards the cot, picking the baby up, and then rocking him back and forth, siting down on the empty bed, Johnnie snuggling up against her arms.

She was siting on the empty bed.

For a minute she calmed herself thinking that the five kids were probably all in the bathroom, having one of their “secret meetings”.

But five minutes passed, the water in the pot boiled, and despite the fact that the baby was now suckling happily on the baby-milk, no voices sounded from the bathroom.

Convincing herself that everything was okay became much harder when she opened the door to the cold, empty bathroom.

The kids were all gone!

A cry of despair escaped her lips, and everyone woke up at the high pitched cry.

Bleary eyes and yawns of tiredness quickly morphed to expressions of panic, shock and confusion.

Mrs Harrington — Maria — spoke,

“ Where are the children?”

Hopper and Nancy’s mouth opened and closed like fishes, trying to find a nice and logical and reassuring answer to her question. No sound came out.

Jonathan then sat down, pale, and spoke, in a monotone, flat voice:

“ There are no looks of struggle. Steve’s bat, and the kid’s rucksacks are gone. I think they left.”

Hopper swore violently, and Maria’s shoulder’s slumped as Nancy sobbed into Jonathan’s neck.

“ They’re idiots. Absolute idiots. They went to— they went to find — they went to get — they just “

Nancy’s words, though swallowed by sniffs and sobs rung truth across the motel room.

The kids had gone to rescue Steve and Jane.

And now, there were seven children, alone, being hunted down.

What now?

“Okay, okay…. no one leaves the flat. If anyone leaves, we all go, okay. Nancy, Jonathan, go with Joyce, go and find the kids. Maria and I will try and find a way to get the police to turn on Brenner, okay?”

Joyce squashed down the jealousy which rose up like a green smog in her lugs, when she startled.

Why should she be jealous of Jim’s friendship with Steve Harrington’s mother?

She shook out her irrational thoughts, and walked out of the house, her son and his girlfriend in tow. This would be the last time that her kids, any of her nine kids, would disappear.

This was war.

Chapter Text

Eleven was a heavy sleeper.

It was one of the things that Papa had tried to change, bursting into her room at obscure times in the night, and shaking her vigorously until she woke. Sure, the bruises had sucked, but her body had stubbornly remained with the ideal of sleeping deep enough to not notice anything.

So, when a man shined his flashlight onto her face, she didn’t groan, didn’t hear the proud chuckles of the armed men, nor the animalistic snarling from Five. The girl didn’t feel how arms tightened around her, or the gasp as the boy carrying her walked with a gun held to his temple. She didn’t even wake up to the roar of a car engine, the strapping of a seatbelt over her limp body, nor the hand of her Papa carding through her hair, not even the low growl of her protector.

When she did wake up, El almost convinced herself that it was a nightmare.

Her head lay on cold, hard tiles. She was in a cell, the bars only letting her see a glimpse of what was occurring in the other cells. Most were just filled with electrical equipment, one making her shiver her mother’s memories flashed through her head.

In the room opposite, she would occasionally hear a groan, a scream, and the dull, heart wrenching sound of skin hitting skin.

Anger filled her, and she tried to burst open the bars.

The bars did not burst open.

She was thrown back against the padded cell wall, her back smacking against the not-quite-soft wall.

Papa stepped forwards, grinning at her  mock -sadly.

“Game’s up, pet. These cells have forcefields around them, which amplify the natural reciprocal forced. You’d need three atom bombs to burst through them. Its time to get back to work, zero-one-one”

Though she wanted to scream at him, she couldn’t feel that there was something different about it this time.

They hadn’t cut her hair. There were no swimming costumes in the pile of clothes in the corner. And though Papa was mean and Bad, she had never actually seen him hurt anyone just for the sake of it. But judging by the way that a bleeding and bruised Five was lead back to his cell, it seemed that a lot of things had changed.

Their eyes connected, brown meeting hazel. Those weren’t familiar eyes. Steve’s — even Five’s eves had had something in them.

Steve was full of emotions, happiness, anger, frustration, he had very expressive eyes. Five was like Steve, but dulled down, like the difference between Eggos with whipped cream and candy, and plain cold Eggos.

These eyes… they reminded El of a cat’s. They had an expression, but it was indecipherable. There was a predatory glare in his eyes, which died down to nothing as he looked at her.

He huffed, wincing as he sat down against the wall of his cell ( not padded), and just said,

“ I’m sorry El. I promise I will get you out of here. Friends don’t lie right? I promise El. I’m so sorry.”

They had walked around for ages, before ending up in a forest, watching as the energy vans spun away.

They had to hope, so they continued looking.

They had walked around, for hours now, and had only found a few things. Not a single person wanted to talk about what those things meant.

The first was a rag, of El’s sweater. Mike was currently clutching in between his fingers, and refused to meet anyones eye.

The second was a bullet. No blood on it, which was good. But the fact that they hadn’t found anyone, implied that maybe another bullet had.

The third was a stick, covered in drying, but not quite brown, blood. Dustin clutched it, and knew whose blood it was. He hadn’t told anyone, but it had been on the floor, surrounded by upturned leaves. It was human.

It was Steve’s.

And it hurt.

Brenner had them. He knew it. Mike knew it, otherwise he wouldn’t be wiping tears from his eyes. Max knew it, her lip trembling. Will knew it,— everyone knew it, and no one dared to say it.

Their big brother, and friend were in the hands of a megalomaniac with a penchant for kidnapping innocent children. And they couldn’t do anything.

There was no clear, obvious lab. There were no people who would tell a bunch of kids where the lab was. They were cold, and lost, the sun rising above them, when Max gasped, pointing to an upturned tree.

On the stump, green with moss, lay scarlet drops of congealing blood. Amidst the mushy leaves, lay a knife, and a Kendall’s mint cake wrapper. Dustin had read evough detective books to recognise signs of struggle, they were weak, but they were obvious.

Footprints with heels dug into the ground. A torn piece of wood.

Will whispered, his voice almost swallowed by the morning wind, but the words came across as loud as thunder, making everyone, including himself flinch at their ruthless veracity.

“ Brenner’s got them”

Max tiredly nodded, the only one who was managing to emotionally detach from the scene enough to do anything more than stand there, unmoving.

Mike’s eyes hardened again, their ice chilling Dustin to the core. He had seen Mike annoyed, frustrated, desperate and angry. He hd never seem this type of pure, cold, glacial rage before, especially not in his well-meaning friend.

“We’re getting them back. I know who to talk to,”

Dustin worriedly walked behind him, and though he felt the same way, he couldn’t but fear what Mike’s plan was. One side of him cheered in relief that there was a plan. That, this awful month of hiding, running and awfulness would end, and he could go home to his mom’s cooking, her warm hugs, and fun DnD tournaments at someone’s house.

The other side of him, his instincts, told him to run, adrenaline pumping in his veins as he couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that everything was about to , somehow, get worse.

He could feel himself slipping. There were layers, like an onion, to who he was.

The was King Steve, the boy a devil-may-care attitude, rich, absent parents, and many friends. There was Steve, protective, human, who didn’t like drinking very much, and that wanted to have proper friends. There was Five. Five was like a washed out Steve, with all the colours of being Brenner’s plaything for the majority of his life.

These weren’t new concepts, in fact, he had thought about these three different people in the past month quite a lot.

But he had never quite had the courage to think of 005.

005 wasn’t a person. 005 was a weapon. 005 was to him like the Hulk was to Bruce Banner. Protective. Well meaning. Lethal to any enemy.

He was glad that El had escaped when she did. It appeared to be that Brenner had postponed her training. His had begun age eight, after having made the guards all burst into tears when threatened with being locked up in the Room.

He — Steve — he was Steve — slumped down on the concrete floor, watching El braid her hair. She had been pleased that they hadn’t shaved her head. Steve had tried very hard not to sob as the guards had pulled his hair back to punch him.

Shaved hair meant experiments, cold labs, needles and loneliness.

Normal hair meant missions, gunshots, and using powers for Brenner.

Fiv— he was Steve— felt every bone in his body ache. His head hurt, and he kept on getting confused ( probable concussion), he could feel the uncomfortable pain of broken ribs, and all of his body was marred with bruises, with blood streaming from where the whip had hit.

He had almost for gotten how much he hated Brenner, but now, the glowing coals were back to their pageful inferno

But apart from that, not much was bad. Sure, Brenner would try and brainwash them, he would have to protect El, and there was no way that this ended without less than a drop of blood being spilt….

But they didn’t know where Kali was.

The babies were safe.

The Party was fine.

All he had to do was get El out of here, and disobey Brenner to his best abilities.

Easy, right?

Nancy could feel her hope waning as he legs grew tired, and her breaths came faster.

They had been walking for two hours now. No children. No shouts. Nothing. For all the times that she had yelled at Mike and his friends for being to loud, now is when they decided to be silent?

Nancy knew she looked a mess. Her hair was in a greasy, messy bun, she had no makeup on but the smudged mascara from the day before, and she was wearing Jonathan’s old hoodie on top of overalls.

Her mother would be horrified. T

he girl paused mid step, and though an observant onlooker would have seen it, the mother and son beside her were too caught up in grief to notice.

Her mother! All the kids had gone missing for over a month, and there had been practically no contact.

She tried to brace herself for the shock and horror and sadness and— But nothing came.

Nothing but pure, cold, hard anger. Brenner had done this— it ws all his fault. He had killed Barb. He had taken Will. He had stolen El and Steve from their lives. He had kidnapped multiple kids. She was going to kill Brenner.

The thought would have, a year ago, horrified her. The violence, and conviction in it was startling, and definitely not the thoughts of a normal seventeen-year old girl. But normal was a concept, and she was currently looking for a bunch of children that were hunting the closest the world had come to an evil scientist..

Nancy’s absent minded companions continued when she froze.

A hat. Ginger hair. Mike’s unbrushed hair. She walked over to the group, and grabbed the hands of her reckless baby brother, and crushed him into a hug.

Her boyfriend turned around, and smiled, grabbing Will and ruffling his hair before beginning a very, very impressive lecture. It was kind of hot.

Nancy looked down at the kids, and almost stepped back in surprise. These were not the eyes of fourteen year olds. She didn’t pinpoint it, until she thought of the movies her Dad liked, those Western thrillers.

It was the expression that the hero of the movie had, seconds before firing his gun at someone. It was a look of ruthlessness, desperation, sacrifice and justice.

Nancy’s baby brother, the little boy who had gurgled in her chubby three-year old arms as she sat on the edge of her mom’s hospital bed was going to war.

And she wasn’t going to let him fight without her.

“What’s the plan?” she asked, and after attaining nods from all of his friends he smiled, full of pride and wisdom.

“We’re going to interrogate Sir Harrington. We’ll see is he can be … convinced… to give us more information.”

“ Lets get to it.”

Sir Harrington was in his office, silently working through his papers. He painstakingly rubbed the address off the letter he had received. Brenner’s labs were becoming more top secret, and as he was facing some criticism, he had to make everything all the more secret.

That was when he heard a soft knock on the door.

Small hand. Probably female. Hesitant. His wife had come to grovel for his forgiveness.

How lovely.

He placed his papers into his drawer, locking it, and he opened the door, expecting to see the peroxide-blonde hair of his wife.

He was met with a fist to the face, and didn’t know what insulted him more, the blood gushing on his tailored suit, or the fact that a thin young woman had just punched him in the face.

He stared at her bewildered, trying to place her face, wondering absently if she was an ex-mistress of his, and was too confused to notice the needle slipping into his neck, small pale freckled hands pressing down on the plunger.

And the Honourable Sir Henry Harrington thudded to the floor, and was carelessly dragged out by Jonathan, Mike, Lucas and Nancy.

He woke up in a motel room, duct tape strapping him to a chair, a sock tasting of soap stuffed into his mouth, and three lamps pointed at his face.

“Don’t you think that three lamps is too much”

“Shut up, this is what they do in the movies.”

“ Guys I think he’s waking up.”

“Will you shut up!”

He had been kidnapped by children. Like, small cute children had turned on him and kidnapped him.

He spat the sock out, swearing violently, ignoring the tuttings and mutterings about courtesy, to realise that he couldn’t get out. They hadn’t just duct taped him, they had grabbed some bicycle locks and chained him to the chair!

“What do you want? Money? Fame? Tech?”

“Wow this is really like one of your awful movies”

“Shut it Lucas!”

Henry squinted against the light, wondering just how his lawyers would be able to condone him attacking and possibly killing a bunch of kids.

Eh. If he gave the judge enough money, he would be okay.

A somber, older voice, female, but still with the high pitches of childhood stated,

“We want information on the whereabouts of the Labs under the command of Dr Martin Brenner.”

That…. was shocking. How did a bunch of kids know about Brenner? How did they know his connection to him? Why did they want to know?

His questions died on his lips as one of the lamps turned away from his face, and he stared.

His wife was here.

She had her hair in a 1950s bun, and had her face void of makeup.

And she was livid.

Steve knew that they were preparing them for missions.

The American flag that had been hastily secured to the wall at the end of his room assured him of that. The cameras that were stationed in both of their cells also told him that making a plan between them would not work.

El was bleeding grey-purple fear, and crimson anger. That was good. Anger was good. Anger was fuel. Despair was a drain.

A familiar looking man, covered in shoddily hidden weapons stalked up to his cag— cell.

“ Well, Subject 005, it is lovely to have you back. Dr Brenner wants to strike a deal with you. If you… comply to both assignments and experiments… he might go easy on Subject 011”

As much as Steve wanted to scream at him, he paused. Brenner would go easy on El, and since Brenner had always been fond of her ( as much as a man made of pure evil can be fond), that meant that she would have higher chances of escaping.

“ Okay. But she gets fed three full meals a day, and gets to sleep at least eight ours every night. No injuries.”

The man grimaced, than tapped into his communications device, and smirked,

“Right then. But if you break any terms, contract breaks. We’ll get you to the gym.”

He was handcuffed, and the guard had a tight grip on his shoulder. He paused to look back at El, who was bewilderedly and concernedly staring at him from under unruly brown curls.

005 stepped into the gym, and obediently ate the tasteless protein shake which the guard handed to him. The guards smiled proudly, as did the scientists and politicians watching the camera feed.

Everyone was watching the boy, lifting weights, exercising, and getting stronger.

Not a single one noticed the thin steam of blood coming from his nose, not a single person noticed how the veins in his forehead stood out, or how tired he was getting.

They were all too happy to see their machine coming to life again. Too selfish to remember that this was a child, a legal child.

Too wrapped up in their own thoughts to hear what the boy was muttering under his breath, over and over again.

“ I am not a weapon. I am not a soldier. But I will win this war to freedom. “

Kali lay in her van, watching the graffitied car ceiling, when she felt it.

There were emotions flooding her, fear, confusion, determination and pain.

Steve.

She couldn’t talk to him, not like El, but she got the overall message. They were in danger, and Brenner either had them or was close to having them.

The emotions, so strong that she had involuntary tears running down her face, her hands shaking, eventually faded, until she was left to her own emotions.

She dozed off into a sleep, and ended up in a chair, surrounded by murky black water.

El.

“What’s going on El, are you and Steve in danger?”

“Papa has us. Steve is hurt, and is working for him so they don’t use me.”

Kali gasped. No wonder Steve was so desperate to get her, if Brenner had them both…… Brenner would be able to get more powerful, and could even use them.

Kali frowned, and asked

“Where are you?”

“We’re in our cells. In a lab. Don’t like it.”

Kali nodded sympathetically, and felt herself being shaken, El’s last words being “Please help!”

Mick was shaking her awake, and looked worriedly at the drying tear tracks on her face.

“It’s breakfast…Kali what’s wrong?”

“Brenner has El and Steve. We need to go get them!”

Apparently her cry was louder than intended, because within minutes, everyone was eating bacon or tofu sandwiches, planning out what to do.

“ We know that Steve’s worked for Brenner before, in a sort of military division, so what do you think the plan is?”

Axel responded, gruffly running his hands on his spiked hair, “ Look Kal’ Steve… the kid was part of an espionage team… which means that Brenner probably had him as a living weapon. We can’t let that happen to Shirley … she’s way too young..”

“ Right, so we are going after them?”

“Yes Dottie, we just need to find where the lab is…”

“Mick and Axel, start finding Brenner’s recent contacts. Dottie and Sunshine, come with me. We’re going to see what connections Brenner’s made recently.”

It took them two days of breaking into buildings, reading papers, and receiving increasingly worrying messages from El to pinpoint where the lab was.

Kali masked the van, not caring that her shirt was getting stained with blood, as they drove.

Kali’s siblings would not be part of a madman’s plan any longer.

El knew that Steve was Not Okay.

She couldn’t do much more but glare at the guards, and make the weights that Steve was forced to lift slightly lighter.

El had contacted Kali, and Kali appeared to be on her way. But she needed to hurry.

Steve had left, wearing smart clothes, akin to those that his father had worn. He had come back, blood covering his nose, lips and ears, almost being dragged by the guards after having been dumped into the cell.

She asked what he had done. He stared at the grey concrete, looking at it but not, the same way that Papa looked at her when she had gotten sick

. “ I was a distraction. They killed someone. I don’t know… They made me make everyone calm. So many people…”

His vice cracked then broke off, a clear tear streaming from his faace, cutting through the layers of brown and grey grime, mixed with the rusty coloured dry blood.

El wanted to cry too. She wanted to go home. El wanted Eggos and warm clothes, and a shower, and to get rid of all these stupid mouth-breathers that wouldn’t leave them alone.

She concentrated, and using her sweaty jumper to cover her eyes, Steve’s heavy breathing acting as background noise, as she went to see how Mike was.

Her boy-friend was standing in a room, his eyebrows concentrated into a frown, and he was angrily shouting at the man — Steve’s Papa.

“ Tell us where the lab is, or I swear I will punch you again!”

Her boyfriend had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his eyes glistening in the dark.

Dad lead him out somewhere, and El followed. Mike sat on the floor with a thud, and just stared at the carpet.

“We have to get them back. We have to— We can’t let them— we can’t we—“

Dad just nodded sadly, rubbing his back.

“ ’t’s okay kiddo. We’ll get them back. Maria will scare him, she told me she has a load of verbal ammo. We’ll get them. It will be okay. They will be okay.”

El ripped the sweater from her eyes, ignoring the damp patches on it, and looked at Steve, and then at her own reflection, in the mirror a … nice-ish guard had given her.

They were not okay.

Dad and Kali needed to come soon.

Chapter Text

El knew that Steve was Not Okay.

She couldn’t do much more but glare at the guards, and make the weights that Steve was forced to lift slightly lighter.

El and Steve had already contacted Kali, and Kali appeared to be on her way.

But she needed to hurry.

Steve had left, wearing smart clothes, akin to those that his father had worn. He had come back, blood covering his nose, lips and ears, almost being dragged by the guards before being dumped into the cell.

She asked what he had done.

He stared at the grey concrete, looking at it but not, the same way that Dad looked at her when she had gotten sick.

“ I was a distraction. They killed someone. I don’t know… They made me make everyone calm. So many people…”

His voice cracked then broke off, a clear tear streaming from his eye, cutting through the layers of brown and grey grime, mixed with the rusty coloured dry blood.

El wanted to cry too. She wanted to go home.

El wanted Eggos and warm clothes, and a shower, and to get rid of all these stupid mouth-breathers that wouldn’t leave them alone.

She concentrated, and using her sweaty jumper to cover her eyes, Steve’s heavy breathing acting as background noise, as she went to see how Mike was.

Her boy-friend was standing in a room, his eyebrows concentrated into a frown, and he was angrily shouting at the man — Steve’s Papa.

“ Tell us where the lab is, or I swear I will punch you again!”

Her boyfriend had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his eyes glistening in the dark.

Dad lead him out somewhere, and El followed. Mike sat on the floor with a thud, and just stared at the carpet.

“We have to get them back. We have to— We can’t let them— we can’t we—“

Dad just nodded sadly, rubbing his back.

“ ’t’s okay kiddo. We’ll get them back. Maria will scare him, she told me she has a load of verbal ammo. We’ll get them. It will be okay. They will be okay.”

El ripped the sweater from her eyes, ignoring the damp patches on it, and looked at Steve, and then at her own reflection, in the mirror a … nice-ish guard had given her.

They were not okay.

Dad and Kali needed to come soon.

Martin Brenner was very very pleased with himself.

The man sat in his office, upon a green leather chair, smiling at the mission report.

If the government came to depend upon his experiments, not only would he become very rich, but he would make a very popular candidate for Minister of Defence, and would be able to … advise… Harrington, or as he would be known, President Harrington.

Though the fact that he could not use 011 was dissappointing, the small, human part of his was rather pleased. 011’s compliance and powers made her a good false daughter to him and… hurting her made him uncomfortable.

Not enough to not hurt her, but enough to feel.... something.

It was nothing now that 005 was back. Brenner had never seen that thing as more than a subject. Of course, the amount of abilities that he had were unexpected, he had wanted 011 to be his main project, but this was somehow better.

The boy was wonderful at memorising social cues, and his vocabulary, though slightly stunted for a boy his age, was exceptionally better than the rest of his subjects. The boy also had actual muscle, and was, fortunately, not ugly, therefore he was a wonderful agent. Even if he was just a weapon, that occasionally needed… encouragements.

Oh, what was the point in hiding it, he despised the boy. The girl was tolerable, meek and submissive, but the boy was unpredictable, and uncontrollable.

For now they had control of him, and having collars and wrist cuffs that gave electric shocks was working, but there was no knowing when it might stop working.

There was also the boy’s… problem.

There were putting mixtures and powers in his food, in the hopes that they may work to stop the seizures, but they had little effect. It mattered not, for now.

All he had to do was get his agents, with 005, to stop a major catastrophe.

And make sure no one knew who orchestrated the catastrophe.

It would be beautiful and delicate, an atomic bomb, somewhere public, so news channels would get there. Stationing agents all around, and in the height of day, rush hour, 011 and 005 would work to contain the power..

The public would be awed, and amazed.

The identities of children would be obscured, as they would hide behind machines, and everyone would think that he, Martin Brenner, under the funding and advisement, and connections of Henry Harrington, had stopped a major crisis.

The public would panic.

Place him as Minister of Defence and Harrington as President.

There would be no more attacks.

And the characters who had known about Hawkins Energy Department, well.

They would have to help, or be … sent away.

It would work.

The good thing, thought Steve as he stiffly pushed himself up off the floor, wincing as the bruises began to form, wondering why exactly his body tried to hit the floor when it happened, that Brenner’s minions were so arrogant and smug.

Of course, it was infuriating hearing a man drunkenly slur about the time that Brenner had told him “well done” for the fifth time, but it was good because Steve now knew his father’s plan.

They wanted to bomb New York.

They wanted to take over, and they were going to use him and El to do it.

No way he was going to let any of that happen.

But what could he do? Right now he was about as useful as a soggy melted marshmallow, his head aching, and the metallic taste of blood on his lips where he had bitten himself accidentally was the only thing keeping him awake, his eyes drooping from exhaustion.

Even if he was fully awake, the cameras that were trained on them were watching at all times, and would know of any plans.

El didn’t know morse code or sign language, so that was pretty useless, especially since Brenner had been the one to teach him both languages.

He opened his eyes again, not sure exactly when they had closed, to see El staring at him, wide brown eyes bleeding out violet-pink concern and turquoise self-doubt.

He smiled at her, and then, he grinned.

A car engine had just revved up outside, the sound of screeching tires of gravel, and of booted footsteps sprinting on tarmac.

Someone had arrived. Someone who didn’t like Brenner.

Gunshots sounded, grunts of exertion and anger also sounded, but Steve’s grin rapidly fell to doubt.

It sounded like Brenner’s men were winning.

Silence fell over the compound, smug and smirking guards patrolling, sneering at them in a celebration of their victory.

Steve ignored El’s questioning statues, and waited to see if the person had escaped, or if they had been captured. His heart sunk when the door swung open.

A shock of purple hair. A mohawk. A long black plait.

Brenner had Kali now. Axel and Sunshine were thrown into the cell with him, the guards muttering about keeping the non powered’s spearated, as they placed Kali, and Dottie in once cell, and put Mick in with El.

Steve could feel the stares, the crusted blood on his lips and chin probably making him look rather awful, and he looked at El.

She would have to use her powers, in a way she had never done so before.

He, El and Kali needed to have a conversation.

Now.

Henry Harrington officially decided that he hated children.

This was a rather easy decision to make, for a few reasons.

Firstly, his only child evidently despised him, which was rather unfair, considering how expensive it was to pretend to not have a child, and the chemicals and experiments and medical bills and — children were expensive.

Secondly, these little brats were absolutely relentless.

The angry kid with the blue eyes screaming about a girl, and how sadistic he was, and that had to be dragged out to stop him from punching Henry again; was annoying.

How the boy had manages to break his nose, he wasn't quite sure.

The girl and the boy, they were the ones that scared him.

Not his wife, she hadn’t spoken yet, not the older man, not even the other two children which were just staring at him.

The girl, a shock of flaming hair, had piercing blue eyes boring into his soul, asking him bizarre questions.

“ And, you decided to set up a law firm when you were thirty yes?”

“Yeah”

“Aren’t lawyers supposed to fight the cause of justice, and not be involved with illegal tax evasion?”

There were many conversations such as this.

It looked like the girl would one day be a fantastic lawyer, if not a judge. Henry hated her

. The boy was also rather terrifying.

His face was one what was clearly used to happiness, a button nose, cherub-like caramel curls, and blue-green eyes, he would make a wonderful poster child. The hateful glower and the bat full of sharp nails, rather ruined the cherub like image.

That and the fact that the kid just asked the same question over, and over, and over again.

“Where is Brenner’s lab? Where is Brenner?” It was like a broken record, except that the boy inched closer to him, and his face went more void of emotion every time he said it.

His wife stepped forwards, and looked at the children, before speaking, quietly, but with a threatening undertone.

“ I wonder what the Tatler magazines back in Britain would think of the headline, “ Harrington, Divorced and in Jail”. It might even make from page, don’t you think?”

Henry blanched. The men at the country club would have weeks work of gossip if that happened.

He was a Harrington he wasn’t— he wasn’t meant to go to jail.

It just wasn’t a thing that Harringtons did.

He spluttered, and finally cracking under the pressure, the awful awkwardness of having many pairs of eyes glaring at him with seething hatred, the pain of the broken nose, the nails pressing against his arm, the stiffness of his duct-taped back —

“ Fine! I’ll tell you! Just… get those two kids away from me.”

The brats smirked, and stepped back into the shadows.

He rattled off the address, and then was surprised when they all left, except for the red-headed woman, and presumably her youngest son, and some babies.

“Hey there darlin’ wouldn’t you be so kind as to untie me?”

That did not go down well. Henry huffed as the boy sat in front of him, eyes staring at him blankly from under a meticulously cut bowl-cut.

He had to alert Brenner.

It was a strange sight.

In one cell, a green haired girl was cradling the head of another in her lap.

The girl was on the floor, her raven and violet curls spilled over the concrete like an inky watercolour.

In the one next to it was a girl, a dirty sweater wrapped around her head. A woman with a well-cared for afro was stroking her hair, her onyx eyes glazed in worry.

In the one opposite was a boy slumped against the wall, his eyes frantically moving back and forth behind his eyelids.

The man with the long, neat plait was between watching the small girl in the cell opposite him, and the boy next to him.

For half an hour straight, the four adults watched as the youngest members of the group lay slumped against surfaces, motionless , like in an strange sleep.

The man watching the security cameras frowned before shrugging. His logic was that powered kids might need more sleep, or whatever.

They were not sleeping.

Kali stood in the murky expanse, Steve standing a few metres away from them as he looked around at the water.

Jane looked up, and smiled at them sadly, before speaking quietly, and saying,

“Steve knows something. We need to get out.”

The boy looked up, and then rattled off the information, a flat monotone of horrifying plans ideas, a void of emotion forming around the boy.

Kali nodded, before pausing, and asking,

“ Steve, are you still getting seizures?” He frowned, and stared at the floor— dark water — and merely nodded miserably.

It was not welcome news. That indicated serious brain damage.

“ Brenner’s doctor seems to think that, because my brain’s wired in a strange way, the effects of head injuries are different.”

Jane gave her a sharp look, obviously protective of Steve, and aware of his discomfort.

Jane spoke, blood beginning to appear under her nose, her shoulders slumping tiredly,

“ So what do we do?”

Steve smiled, and said, again, in the terrifying monotonous voice, that had an edge of steel to it

“Just trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Kali sat up, gasping slightly as Dottie looked at her concernedly.

“ ‘m okay. Calm down.”

She saw El curl up to go to sleep, when guards arrived. Glaring at them, expecting reprimand for having done…. whatever they just did, when all they did was grab Steve out of his cell, and practically drag the sleepy teenager out of the cell block.

Kali raked her hands through her greasy black and purple hair, when she looked at the floor.

A note had dropped inside her cell, it was  crumpled and  of old paper.

It read , in a hasty chicken scratch:

“ When I shout, grab and protect El. Don’t come back for anyone.”

Kali’s heart sank.

Jonathan decided that traffic was one of the worst evils known to man.

Not only was the destination at least eight hours away from where they were now.

But after about an hour of driving, they had hit a load of rush hour traffic. Hopper kept sighing angrily, huffing and sighing like a disgruntled horse. A disgruntled horse with very non-appropriate language, that had somehow managed to even create new expletives.

Though it was a relief knowing that Mom and Will were at the motel, safe, and okay; without Will to worry about, he had to think about their present situation.

Kali and her gang were missing, they hadn't answered any calls, they might have already been captured by Brenner, and who knew how bad it was for Steve and El.

Mike was distraught, and wouldn’t focus on the attempts to engage him, staring intensely at the traffic, repeating the address of the lab under his breath, and pressing his hands into his eyes with frustration.

Dustin wasn’t much better, cradling Steve’s ( his?) bat in his arms, ignoring Max’s and Lucas’ invitations to play Eye Spy. Jonathan knew why everyone was so nervous.

There was no knowing if El and Steve were being hurt, brainwashed or interrogated.

There was no knowing until they got there, and that might not even happen until tomorrow.

Suddenly, Mike and Nancy slumped over, their eyes fluttering shut simultaneously.

Jonathan surprisedly caught Nancy as she nearly let her head loll from the window.

Lucas and Dustin were shaking Mike, and he was gently calling Nancy.

Then, unanimously, they both woke up, Mike screaming at Hopper to turn around, Nancy frowning, looking rather put out.

He looked at her and she said, “ Steve and El wanted to talk to Mike, but they both ignored me!”

Jonathan wanted to explain that, well she had cheated on Steve with him, and since El was Steve’s protector, she couldn’t really expect much else.

But she didn’t know that he knew that, so he sympathetically nodded, and patted her back, whilst focusing on what Mike was whispering in Hopper’s ears.

“ Turn around. They’re taking El, Steve and Kali to New York…”

Mike began rattling a long, convoluted address, before he continued,

“ Steve said to wait, and then that Kali will take El to you.”

Okay, that was fine.

Except it wasn’t.

Why would Brenner take them to New York? What was their “mission”? How would Kali and El get free?

The questions lead to a swirl of panic in his gut. There was a bigger plan here, a big thing that Steve wasn’t saying.

Steve —005, he was on a mission, he was 005, listened to the mission.

El was standing off on one side, Kali and her gang on the other. Having returned from the last mission, he had large bags under his eyes, and was bruised all over.

But Brenner did not care.

He was to work with El to contain the energy from the bomb, and ensure that not a single person got hurt. Kali would make them look like a small machine, with a Brenner Industries stamp on it.

Mick, Axel, and the rest of the gang would scout for any problems, and would report to Brenner and his guards.

Obviously, everyone but him and El agreed to these terms with guns to their heads, but Steve had his own mission in mind.

005 did the tasks perfectly.

Picking clothes for him and the rest to make them look normal. Helping them to decide what vehicles to use. The Steve part of him could tell that Kali was disgusted in him.

That was okay.

Working for Brenner made him feel disgusting too.

When Brenner gave them a break, he sat down with El in the corner of the room, and they tried to find Mike.

It was heartwarming to know that they were on their way to get them, but it did not help.

He used EL’s sense of direction to find where they were, and he found the feeling: Tiredness.

Despite Nancy’s unexpected appearance, he had spoken to Mike.

The boy had an exceptional memory, and being the most tired of the lot, he was easier to talk to.

It was also nice seeing El’s pink blush at the sight of Mike.

When they pulled from El’s strange communication land, he prepared, ignoring Kali and her friends’ scandalised stares.

Steve sat in his cell, obediently taking the larger than normal dose of medicine from the doctor, and leant on the concrete, preparing himself for tomorrow.

Steve began preparing himself for the nightmares of the night, and the organised chaos that would reign tomorrow It would be over soon.

All he had to do was be perfect, and then, last minute, get El and Kali safe.

All he had to do was be 005, for one more day.

All he had to do was be Good.

It would be over soon.

He only had to get everything done tomorrow.

Martin Brenner sat proudly looking at his wonderful subjects.

005 was sitting obediently in his chair, his hair finally cropped into a decent business like cut, wearing a tailored suit, glasses and a briefcase and newspaper in his lap.

He looked nothing like his father.

Which was wonderful, because the link could never be made.

011 was sitting, pressed against 005’s side, a striped school dress on her, her hair had been pinned back and coiled.

Both of them had spent hours with the makeup team to rid them of residual appearances of bruising, exhaustion etc.

008 was glowering at him and 005, but it mattered not.

She didn’t have to be submissive, she was disposable, so obedience would do.

In half an hour, his first team would set a timer, and station themselves in the city.

This team had been chosen for a reason.

Some of his guards had begun to have foolish notions that 011 and 005 were children.

It was amusing, but any amicability had to cut off, hence, they could never see the children.

Other teams were scouting the area, ensuring that nothing would go wrong.

Brenner had already talked with Harrington, a week or so ago, and though he hadn’t bothered to update Harrington on his son’s … situation, he hadn’t been worried.

It wasn’t like Harrington had ever really cared for anything more than money and power.

His driver stopped.

The car came to a halt, and he felt it.

It was the climax to his greatness, the coming together of all his hard work, the end of the ridicule and secrecy.

Martin Brenner smiled, slightly manically, with a dangerously feral edge to the people in the car.

The man was too busy grinning at the affirmations that everything was in place on the radio, that he didn’t notice many things.

Martin Brenner did not notice the sound of a car screeching in the distance, the way that Kali’s formal business clothes and flattened hair occasionally flickered, nor how Steve kept looking resigned and sad when no one was looking.

There was more than one plan afloat.

It was just a matter of time to see which ones succeeded, and which ones were obliterated under the weight of the others.

Steve walked up to where he and El were supposed to be.

It was apparently, a simple plan. Let the bomb go off enough so it blazes, torches a few buildings. Then he and El had to work to contain that energy and convert it into something else, and Kali would make him and El look like a bizarre machine.

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

Not only would there be multiple casualties due to the way that people panic in these situations, but also, he wasn’t quite sure how long El and he would be able to exert so much energy.

So Steve put his plan in place.

Last night he had talked with the three guards which were working for Brenner because they owed him debts, and they had agreed to help him.

El had received a breakfast with as much sugar and protein as possible, as had he. They were to orchestrate his plan.

Steve just had to do it.

He shut his eyes, just for a moment, to stop seeing the overwhelming emotions, lights and colours.

The mask of King Steve slipped off onto his feet, with it went sweaty eyeliner, alcohol, orange spray paint and the stench of chlorine water.

He was not sorry to see it go.

The memories would be there, but he would no longer have to be that person. It crumbled into ash, like the ash that permeated the dank tunnels under the pumpkin fields

The facade of Steve followed, hair products, gym kit, the sticky leather of his car, and the medical kit which he carried around , all shattered, like glass on the pavement.

Steve was okay. But no-one really liked him. That was also okay.

Lastly came the mask of Five, slipping off his mind as silk curtains slip off walls in the wind. It fell with a soft hush, the soft hush of flickering lights, squelching tentacles under boots, and sad smiles in the night.

What — who was left, he didn’t know what to call. A mixture of nails embedded in bats, candy bars in jacket pockets, nightmares, emotions and flying metal.

They stopped on the sidewalk, El saying nothing, only clutching his hand nervously, looking up at him.

Oh yeah. He had been walking.

She had probably steered him.

How tragically ironic.

Steve smiled down at her, ignoring the feeling of the cold wind on the nape of his neck, and just whispered, so Brenner wouldn’t hear,

“ It all be okay. Just do what Brenner says, until I tell you to stop. Then Kali will take you to meet the others, yeah?”

The girl frowned at him, and her raven eyebrows scrunched up to meet at the centre of her face.

Thankfully, Brenner told everyone to get ready, as they only had five minutes until everything kicked off.

Kali and the gang were to his right, with the team of Brenner’s not-so-evil workers.

Brenner and the rest of his workers were stationed around on the left, Brenner staring ash them, his icy eyes peering at them emotionlessly.

Five minutes until it was Over.

Mike and Dustin sprinted out of the car, running through the streets.

They knew they looked ridiculous, but Nancy had told them that they couldn’t be recognised by Brenner, so they looked bizarre.

Dustin’s hair was poker straight, and he wore a leather jacket with flared jeans, Lucas’ precious bandana on his head.

Mike wore rounded horn-rimmed glasses, with a bright orange jumpsuit.

Not far behind followed Max, with her hair with brown hair-spray, stiffened into a bun, wearing a pink dress over ripped jeans, Lucas with leather trousers, a neon-green hawaiian t-shirt and a fedora and —

They all, as a whole, looked like a very strange pack of people, sprinting through the city.

Mike spotted Kali, and they all sat in bated silence.

Kali mouthed at them to wait, looking angry at sadly at where Steve and El were.

Then, many things happened.

Unbearable heat, making the awful clothes stick to his skin.

  Screaming, shouting and panic permeated the scorching air.

El was pushed, and was almost thrown at them, landing on top of Hopper, who managed to catch her before he fell over.

Ash in the air, reminding everyone of the Upside Down, Nancy and Hopper shivering, and all of them squirming in discomfort.

An expensive car sped onto the other street, and Henry Harrington walked out, shouting unintelligibly.

Kali , Mick, Axel, Dottie and Sunshine all ran over, Kali looking happily at El, her heair returning to its purple hue before her face contorted in grief.

And then:

Light.

Chapter Text

It had occurred so quickly, but Steve had timed it to the millisecond.

He had blocked out any cries, and shouts, and distractions.

If he failed, many would die.

He had shouted "Get out of the way" quickly before starting. No collateral damage.

He grabbed all of the air particles, and tried to use them to smother the energy. His hands burned with the heat, as he had to stretch his hands towards the bomb, but it was no matter.

El was sweating beside him, obviously trying to aid him in his endeavour.

He shouted at her to stop, and she did. The pain increased, as did the energy draining from his body, and he almost gave it all away, it all becoming too much, as the sounds and smells increased, a car arriving somewhere close to Brenner.

Gathering up all of his energy, he threw El to the safe sone, hopefully where the familiar looking-nice people were.

Steve knew he knew the names of the people who were standing there, but thinking took too much energy. Energy was precious right now.

The teenager knew that, though only seconds had passed, he had to act soon.

His shoulders were slumping, and he distantly felt blood from his ears, eyes and nose dripping steadily down his face onto the concrete floor. It took a lot of effort — a scary amount of effort to pinpoint his targets.

Brenner. His Dad. The guard that had broken his arm when he was five for no reason. The scientist that enjoyed the experiments on the effects of pain just a bit too much. Everyone who had decided, at some point in their lives, that torturing innocent children was justifiable, and even fun.

The boy absorbed the energy, for just a second, and it was the worst second of his life.

Every cell, every atom, every part of his body was in pain, worse than any chemical, any seizure, any beating, any experiment — it was awful.

But his mind also had energy. The many people — things — that were emotions all sat there, next to him as he watched his memories spin by him. It was a tange of memories wrapped in light, different emotions growing and shrinking as his life sped past his eyes at the speed of light.

He couldn’t see, it was too bright, but he opened his eyes, and let the energy flow to the monsters that had tried to blow up New York for money.

The brightness faded, but the boy only managed to flick his eyes upwards momentarily, to hear the screams of horror, the signs of relief, and the cries of happiness, to smell the ash, to feel heat on his skin before—.

Darkness.

The boy swayed slightly, before crumpling gracelessly onto the floor, a mass of limbs, the dull thud of bone and muscle hitting the unbearably hot concrete ground, sending ash into the air.

El had watched as the light faded, her Dad muttering before handing her sun-glasses.

Steve was standing there, and the heat and light flowed towards him, until she couldn’t see him anymore. Shaking arms stretched out from the white blob, towards Papa.

Papa, Steve’s Papa and the meanest of the people from The Lab all received the light, before bursting into glowing ashes.

It distantly reminded her of the way that white ash, tinged with red, rose on barbecues. The light died down.

All those the fifteen people that Kali, El and Steve had seen in their nightmares were now the white particles being swept away by the wind.

The people who had witnessed the — whatever had just happened— reacted in one of two ways. Either sagging and crying with relief, or hysterically screeching, asking for explanations, gasping at the remains of chairs and brief cases, stuttering at the sight of the lighty melted car.

The car.

Dad sprinted past her and opened the car, using a leather jacket to protect his hands. Joyce and Will stumbled out, coughing and spluttering, both from smoke and the rough gags on their mouths.

The babies weren’t gagged, but they were coughing slightly, the faux gas-masks of wollen blankets serving mediocrely, Will carrying one infant, and Joyce the other two.

Joyce kissed Dad on the lips. Relief and joy on his face as she grinned brightly at him.

Weird.

Jonathan and Will stared, just like her at the scene, transfixed, until Dustin shouted hoarsely, “Steve!”

Lucas grabbed the baby from Joyce, Max the one from Hopper and Nancy picked up Johnnie, patting his back, happy to feel useful.

Any remnants of happiness were washed away as they looked at Dustin’s kneeling form, next to Steve.

The boy had keeled over, and lay on the ground, unnervingly motionless.

El ran, and felt all of the shock, and horror and — everything, come back to her, crushing onto her after the momentary feeling that her biggest problem was that Joyce was kissing Dad.

Steve looked terrible. There was blood all over his face, some on his white shirt, and it was mixing with sweat from the still-hot atmosphere, tears and the greasy makeup.

Also, his chest was rising very little. Like, half of what it usually rose.

She turned away, to call Dad to see him staring horrifiedly at the boy, at the bruises that were becoming evident as the grease pain melted off, at the blood, the dark circles and his chest.

Oh.

That was very Not Good.

Steve’s chest wasn’t moving anymore.

Dustin had never, ever been so grateful that Hopper was a cop.

The man had ordered for Jonathan to get the “big white bag” from his car, before ordering everyone around.

Currently, Hopper was pressing down on Steve’s chest at regular intervals, everyone grimacing as the charred shirt crumbled under the force, revealing impressive bruising on Steve’s chest, and then cringing at the sight and sound of broken bones shifting under skin.

Mrs Byers was breathing for Steve.

And he didn’t seem to want to breathe any time soon.

After an age, an age of staring at the burns on Steve’s arms and hands, an era of tears silently dribbling down ash covered faces, two things happened.

Jonathan arrived, sweating and red faced, and thrust the white case in Hopper’s direction, purposefully not looking at Hopper or his mom.

And Steve gave a shuddering breath, it was too shallow, too raspy, too “ not right” as El muttered, but it was there.

The oxygen tank was quickly attached to a mask, and it was fixed over the boy’s face. Dustin shifted over to where Steve was, and gently stroked his weird looking hair.

It was still short, and had been cut in a specific way, that looked kind-of what a model-business man would wear, but soaked in sweat, and sticking up in all directions, it just looked like the tufts of fluff on the head of a small duckling.

Will was greeted happily, and though he was still coughing at intervals, spitting the taste of the gag onto the concrete, he was clearly okay.

Dustin smiled as Mike masterfully created a very fake story to the woman on the 911 reciever.

That a bomb had gone off, and though many people had realised that something was off, and had ran, Steve had helped the remaining people and alerted them, and had been hit by falling debris.

It was close enough.

Kali went up to him and Hopper, Mrs Byers having taken everyone to eat something, and just looked back at her gang and stated

“ We’re going to get the information about all that Brenner did. Mrs Harrington is coming with us, as she has contacts.”

Dustin tried not to feel angry, when the woman— Steve’s mom— just kissed her recently dead son on his forehead, before thrusting a small pouch from her bag at Hopper, ordering him to give it to Steve.

He gave up trying not to feel angry when the woman walked off, and got into a recently hot-wired van.

And there he sat, the fourteen year old boy, half-cradling the eighteen year old in his lap, trying not to jostle the oxygen mask, and praying for the ambulance to arrive soon as the boy’s face began to pale again.

It had been a moment.

He had been staring at his subjects, both concentrated in beautiful obedience and submission, the swirling light, and ash and heat was nothing to the satisfaction of seeing his plan come to reality.

   They stood behind alamp post, and, if he didn't look at their outstretcked arms, or their blood-streaked faces, he could imagine them as machines.

Harrington arrived, and stared happily at it, and didn’t even pay heed to his own subject in the whirlwind of ash and smoke.

   It was a moment of pride. Years of illegally sourcing chemicals and machines. Millions of dollars. Piles of illegal documents. It had come to this. 

He could imagine the desk of Dr Martin Brenner, saviour of the New York attack, and Minister of Defence. The power he would have, the contacts, the experiments he could conduct...

But them, 011 was gone, in a flash. 005 had stepped out, closer to the light, taking it all on his own powers.

Before he could even form the frown on his face, anger bubbling up in his gut as arms stretched out through the light, and he knew that this was Not Right.

As Brenner had reached to call his guards to train the snipers and weapons on subject 005, the arms stretched towards him, the energy flowing in his direction as hazel eyes bore into his chest.

. Burning white.

The last thought he had before he died was that, 005 wasn’t meant to be this powerful.

   Then, he had burst into a pile of smouldering white ash, swirling away in the wind, or settling on the hot concrete. Martin Brenner was no more.

There was nothing left of the man, apart from some burnt leather shoes on the ground, and some ash in the air.

El was staring at the shoes, barely able to believe it.

She was free.

The high-pitched whine of the ambulance came closer, Jonathan and El both clutching their ears at the pain, and whilst they, and everyone else, heaved a sigh of relief.

Jim stared down at the child— because this was, beneath everything, still a child — on Dustin’s lap.

There was blood slowly pooling onto the concrete from where pieces of shrapnel had hit him, his arms were covered in the beginnings of blisters and were an angry red colour that spoke of infection and scarring.

The ambulance crew arrived, and even the senior paramedic paused at the sight of the kid on the concrete.

Jim couldn’t blame him, if he had been called, he would have already been calling the morgue, if not for the faint tinge of red on the boy’s pale cheeks, and the small wheeze of inhalation.

The woman came over to him as the crew gingerly pulled the boy onto a stretcher, and spoke in a low tone,

“ What happened?”

Jim inwardly grimaced, knowing that  there were at least six-months of lying to the media in front of him ( again)

“ Some idiot put some sort of weapon into the square, the kid recognised what it was, and shouted to get away, most people panicked and ran, but the boy stayed to get the girl out. She’s fine, apart from the shock of it all. “

“Okay, and … sorry to ask this, but who are you to the boy?”

“ I was taking my daughter and her friends with me to a trip, and since older siblings were coming to, the kids all begged for him to come he’s their… babysitter.”

“Finally, I need you to fill out this form. Thank you, and we’ll take you and one more person with us in the ambulance.”

Filling out the form took a collective effort.

Nancy paled at it, not just at the paper that wrote “In case of death…” or “in case of vegative status for over a week”, but also at the questions.

The girl stammeringly admitted that she knew nothing, and then he sighed.

The kids would know.

Dustin supplied allergy information, Max gave the home address, Mike gave Harrington Firm’s bank details ( Jim wasn’t sure if he should have been pleased or angry), and Jane wrote down any information she knew on Steve’s medical history.

He gave the sheet back to the woman, and though her eyebrows rose to hide under her fringe at the mixture of adult's cursive, teenager scribble and Jane’s shaky letters, she smiled at him.

Now.

Who to take.

Selfishly, he wanted Joyce to come. But this was not the time.

So he decided that Dustin would go with him in the ambulance, and waved goodbye to the party, trying not to let his mind wander as he looked at the frighteningly pale face that was practiacally swallowed by the oxygen mask.

“ News has arrived of an attempted attack in New York City. There have been fifteen deaths, and one casualty, who is in critical condition.

This group of children saw the whole thing, this is Michael Wheeler from Indiana:

“Uh, well we arrived and we could tell that something was weird. There was this guy that kept staring at the box, and then that car, over there, sped here and stopped right in front of it. There were people everywhere, but the guys with the strange badges wouldn’t come near the centre. Then it exploded, with the boy and Jane right next to it, but he got Jane out, shielding her with himself.”

That was one of the witnesses. It had been claimed by multiple witnesses that it was Henry Harrington and Martin Brenner, both who have just received government endorsement, were at the scene. There four armed men in custody, all who had military grade weapons at the scene.

      We will update on the situation when we have more news. For now, it is advised to alert the police on news of any small black boxes in major cities.

 This is Kathryn Johnson, reporting from New York City”

Will quietly munched his croissant, mulling over the events of the past days.

It had been awful, Mr Harrington had, at night, broken from his restraints, and he had rifled through all of the papers, until he found one, which mentioned the Plan.

The man had then gagged them with strips of cloth, and placed them and the crying babies in the car, speeding through the night, onto the next day.

Will was not a violent nor vengeful boy,he had always thought of pacifism and quiet resistance as the best form of defence, but right now, he could not deny the gladness and relief that came from seeing the piles of ash floating in the wind.

Will absentmindedly wondered what was going to happen now.

Nancy had locked herself in the bathroom, Jonathan was trying to coax her out, his mom was puppy-eyed and drinking coffee, and everyone else wanted to see what was going on with Steve.

Will wasn’t mad at the idea of Mom kissing Hopper.

Hopper was nice. Hopper would be the best boyfriend that his mom would have ever had, maybe except from Bob.

He missed Bob. Bob was dorky and fun and knew an unhealthy amount of Lord of the Rings trivia.

But he did, kind of wish, that his mom had followed the Structure. The speaking about him, then speaking about conversations with him, then introducing them to him, then going on an official date etc.

But it didn’t matter, because, now that there was no Lab, no Bad Men, no other worlds, it would all go back to normal.

Well. As normal as it could be after this mess.

Eventually, after about half an hour, Will sat in the car, passively listening to Mike and Dustin amicably bicker, ignoring Nancy’s sniffles and watching at the as the ash-filled streets sped away.

It was time to see Steve.

Dustin didn’t know too much about medical stuff of humans.

He could list the muscles of a human arm by heart, and obviously had read up on stuff, but when it came to actual real life things, he was lost.

The curly-haired boy concluded that, when a person is unconscious on a hospital bed, they shrink.

Because the person, covered in tubes, asleep, his face grey from the surgery, contrasting with the awful yellow walls of the Under-21’s ward, could not be Steve.

Steve was brave ( too brave. too selfless), reckless, a speak-before-thinker type person. Steve was strong and awesome and faced like four Demodogs alone in the dark with only the nail-bat.

Steve didn’t need a machine to give him oxygen, or tubes to give him food and water.

Steve didn’t need those tubes, or the long list of medications on the piece of paper. “Right?”

Hopper just looked sadly at him after his tirade, before running a hand over his face, and looking like he really, really wanted to leave.

“ Look kid. Steve’s all that, but Steve’s still human. He ain’t going to bounce back very quick from this. He’ll…. they haven’t said anything yet, but I know he won’t go down without a fight. Okay?”

Dissatisfied, Dustin grudgingly nodded.

The boy walked over to the bed, his legs stiff after the five hours of which Steve had spent in surgery, and grabbed the lukewarm hand.

“ You’ve got to be okay, i’m tellin’ ya. If you aren’t okay, then I will have to get everyone, and I man everyone involved in being okay. Please Steve, tell me that you’re going to be okay”

Dustin didn’t let go.

Not when Hopper brought him a sandwich and a nougat bar.

Not when the rest arrived ,apart from to let Max sit next to him.

Not even when he fell asleep.

Steve had saved all of them. Now it was time for them to save Steve.

Steve didn’t feel anything, for a while.

He didn’t notice the passing of time.

The first thing he hard was voices, but they didn’t make much sense to him.

“….You didn’t tell me you had still been with him…” spoke a tired male voice. The sharp female voice followed. It sounded like something was wrong, but the darkness pulled back at him, and the memory was forgotten.

The next time he surfaced, his hands were wet, and a heavy weight was on the side of the… bed?. He was on a bed. A squeaky childish voice spoke, female due to it’s high pitch. Long hair tickling his face.

“…. Please Steve, it’s been days now, you need to wake up. They’ve taken you off the machines, most of them, you need to do it. Things are falling apart here…”

He wanted to help, he really did, but then he felt an odd feeling in his hands, and then heard shouts, which died to hushed and soft mutterings.

Oh well.

Then there was the really strange one, a grown woman, with a plasticky voice spoke, the sound of rustling clothes,

“… Saved multiple people from dying, and he apparently shouted to alert people to run. His friends say that he recognised the bomb from his love of sci-fi movies. It has been nearly a week since he ….”

Steve ignored it.The person they were speaking about couldn't be him. He had a swimming pool, a can of spray paint and an alley, with greasy eyeliner in the back of his mind. Savers don't have those things.

Then, one day, he managed it.

His eyes opened.

And were met with the clear brown eyes of Jane Hopper.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Steve's life was very different, now. A month after the whole mess had finished.

When Steve got back to school, he changed all of his classes. There was no point in hiding what he was good at, no government to hide from, no fake friends to tease him.

Psychology. Chemistry. Criminal Sciences. Politics.

The teachers question him, and, for the first few weeks, he receives a lot of stares. Steve wasn’t quite sure what to think of the stares. Some in wonder, as the boy that was failing most of his classes suddenly excels, others in confusion at his lightly bandaged arms and chest, the purple bruising on his face fading, but present.

He enjoys the subjects.

Psychology is a breeze, peoples' emotions just floating above their heads, it is like a language which everyone speaks but con't read read, and he read it perfectly.

Chemistry is enjoyable, if occasionally the memories of having some of the chemicals injected into him are rather disturbing.

Politics is also rather fun, his knowledge of how different governments work not having to be hidden.

Criminal sciences is his favourite, tips from Kali, memories of his year on the run, and Hopper’s help ensuring that he receives commendations from all of his teachers.

It isn’t all sunshine and roses, though.

He does a lot of schoolwork at home, holing up in his bedroom waiting for seizures to happen, or for migraines to pass. The medicines help, but there are somedays that his hands shake in warning, or he gets to the car to realise his eyes can’t focus due to the oncoming migrane.

Steve knows it is bad and irresponsible, but he hasn’t quite told anyone that, out of the medicines he was given, many of them are likely to become lifelong prescriptions.

The nightmares and flashbacks make things worse. He can’t be near fire, bright lights, or heat. If the neighbour’s dog growls, he goes into a cold sweat, the feral hissing and snarling of the hordes of dogs that came after him ringing in his ears. But he writes it down in journals, and lets himself boil water with his mind to let the emotions out.

His powers stay the same, and they are fun to use, now that El and Kali have shown him how to use them better. Steve learns to write down what colours mean, and learns how to use his powers subtly, enough to make an effect, but not enough to make people notice.

If he sometimes suppresses the feelings of anger in the Hargroves when he sees them, no one needs to know.

Jonathan and he become friends, bonding over trying to figure out bizarre social customs, reckless little brothers, and an undying adoration for Star Trek.

Steve doesn’t talk to Nancy much. But there is no hostility.

The kids come over every week, on Friday evenings. Mike brings frozen pizza, Dustin brings his mom’s cookies, Lucas brings the drinks, Will brings figurines and Max brings large amounts of sweets.

Steve isn’t quite sure why they come to his house, but after the third time that he ends up with one of them sobbing into his shoulder, hiccuping through tales of nightmares and parents that don’t know what to do, he understands.

This group of children, no, this entire pack of people, from Johnnie and Robbie at Joyce’s and Jim's house and Barbie at the Wheeler’s house, to Hopper and Joyce, and everyone in between , would never be quite okay.

But sitting here on the couch, munching doughnuts as everyone doses off to the sounds of the Ghostbusters bickering, it seems pretty okay to him.

It feels pretty perfect.

His home felt different.

Of course, the last time had seen it, it had just been ransacked by Brenner and his goons. But things had definitely changed.

Holly didn’t cling to Mom anymore, just to her dolls, and Dad was more absent than normal.

Nancy had managed, with a lot of guilt tripping, to get Mum to adopt Barbie, a long winded story about abandoned children enticing the sympathy of the older woman. Barbie had been checked over by the doctors, El and Steve, and they all said that she was a perfectly normal, happy baby.

El. Hopper and Joyce had bought a house together in the town, Will and El moving to be only a block away from Mike, so Mike could see El every day.

His Mum was suspicious of El, but Hopper had clearly told her something, because there was no open problems.

His house still felt different though, and not even the joy of having El and Will so close made the icky feeling go away. It could have been that El’s fort had been taken down for the second time, or that the fact Brenner had been there, or — it could have been may things , really.

Playing Dungeons and Dragons in the basement didn’t feel right, there wasn’t enough space for El and Max, and the guidebook being laid out of his small wooden table brought back too many memories. Dustin came up with the perfect solution, one day, when Steve was dropping them all back home after school

“ Why don’t we go to Steve’s? He’s got plenty of space, right?”

And before their driver/brother/father figure could protest, it had been decided.

DnD Fridays would happen at Steve’s house. It was perfect.

The Sinclairs liked Steve as he babysitted Erica when they had date night, Dustin’s mum adored Steve, Joyce liked Steve, Hopper knew Steve and El were practically siblings, and Max’ parents just didn’t care.

It was awesome!

And yeah, things weren’t always okay.

He knew that the checking that everyone got home safe everyday through the radios wasn’t normal, and that he had nightmares enough that even his mum was worried.

But this, he thought as he munched through the greasy pizza, fondly looking at El staring wide-eyed at the cheese as it stretched, this was all worth it.

His house would never feel safe, Hawkins would never be normal, and the government would never be trusted. The nightmares might persist, and he might never be able to see the science-room black board without seeing El disappear.

But he had El now, his Party was together, and he would be safe here, Steve’s bat in the corner, Hopper’s hand next to his gun as he wiped greasy fingers in his jeans.

He had more friends, he even had a girlfriend.

And somewhere along the way, he had found a gruff Dad in Hopper, a Mum in Mrs Byers and an epic big brother in Steve.

Yeah, this was better than his old Party.

Way better. 

Life changed, and it didn’t.

Neil was still awful, he never hurt her, but he shouted and yelled at Billy, at the TV, at everything, which wasn’t fun. Billy didn’t hurt her anymore, whether the bat between the legs or the strange conversation he had with Lucas’ dad had done the trick she wasn’t sure, but Billy was just an annoying presence nowadays.

Her mom convinced Neil to let her work, and it only took one row and a hole in the wall for her mum to get a job as an auxiliary nurse. Her mum didn’t change much, but her mum was happier, and that made Neil less angry, so overall, through little changes, things improved, just a bit.

Max still didn’t like the house.

Billy and Neil would scream and shout, her mom would usually cry or try to change the subject and Max would just escape. She didn’t have to sit out on the back porch though, she had two homes to go to.

The Sinclairs were a really, really nice family.

Erica liked playing with her hair, saying that it looked just like Annie’s and that it was fun to braid.

Mrs Sinclair was like the awesome mom in the sitcoms, giving big hugs, serving up lemonade and cookies whilst working on her book.

Mr Sincalir would glare at Billy, and when talking to Neil, would remain calm and civil, whilst mildly threatening.

Neil and Billy were a bit afraid of Mr Sincalir and it was awesome.

Lucas was the best. Lucas told her about El, and explained what had happened the first time, properly. Lucas convinced Mike and Will to let her into the Party, and he even let her stay over on short notice, on the nights when Neil was angry, or Billy was going out drinking.

But it wasn’t just Lucas.

Max wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, whether it had been when Steve had confronted Billy ( the first person to ever do so), when he had looked after her after the nightmares she couldn’t voice out loud in those dingy motels, or just when he hadn’t let her get hurt on that night when Brenner’s men had chased them; but Steve was now her big brother.

She would get him to pick her, Dustin, Lucas and eventually Will and Mike up after school, and he became their unofficial teacher about all the things that their parents couldn’t do.

To give back, they would all teach him and El something.

Max learnt how to cook, and do backflips and stitch up a wound, and she taught Steve how to make friends ( proper ones, not the losers Billy hung out with), how to tie a tie and how to hot-wire vans.

So yeah, home still sucked. Billy was annoying, Neil was loud and angry and her mum was absent in both body and mind.

But she had a bestfriend/boyfriend in Lucas, parents in Mr and Mrs Sincalir and the most extraordinary older brother in Steve.

So life in Hawkins perhaps wouldn’t be so bad after all.

When she got back home, it was like everything crashed, for a moment.

After a month of running from the governmental forces, a month of guilt with the knowledge that she had cheated on Steve, a month of watching her little brother be more mature than she ever could be, she just crashed.

But there were three things keeping her afloat.

Mike didn’t let her wallow in misery or guilt, he would come into her room, and demand that she explain how he should be a good boyfriend to El. And yeah, it hurt to realise that Steve had, more or less, ticked all the boxes off the list she gave Mike, but that hurt  was erased when she saw El’s face light up at the sight of a sheepish Mike offering her a daisy.

Gosh, her brother and his girlfriend were cute.

On the days where Mike didn’t have time, Jonathan would be there. He wouldn’t talk about Steve, at all, changing the subject whenever she mentioned him, but he was always there. Jonathan told her of how happy his mom was with Hopper, about how Will and El had become fast friends at the prospect of being siblings, and of how Johnnie and Robbie were getting bigger each day. Jonathan was there in classes, at school, in the park, and she could not have wished for a better boyfriend.

The other light, was Barbie. The little girl had firmly decided that Nancy, and not her mom, was “Mama”. Despite the slightly crestfallen looks of her parents, and the judgemental looks from the elderly ladies at the park, Nancy adored this child.

Barbie was like a ray of sunshine, cuddling everyone, and smothering everyone with slobbery, sticky kisses if they held her. Barbie also was a reminder that Nancy couldn’t afford to wallow in her room, listening to angsty music, because there was a life to live outdoors.

Nancy knew, the moment that Steve pushed everyone back using his mind on the campsite, that her life would change.

Nancy, however, didn’t anticipate her brother and his friends to all decide that Steve was their older brother, nor did she expect Steve to be so forgiving of her betrayal.

She definitely didn’t expect Steve to become Holly’s babysitter.

It was awkward, the first few times. One part of her desperately wanted to ask about the medicines he was taking, the ones she had seen out of the corner of her eye when he had arrived, she wanted to hug him and ask him if her was okay.

The other part of her was annoyed. They had dated for a full year, and she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t questioned, hadn’t even thought about how weird her boyfriend’s life was. That part whispered “ What right do you have to know? After all of this?”

But, after the fifth time, it relaxed, the tension in the atmosphere. And to be honest, her life was better that what she could have expected, two years ago.

She had a loving boyfriend, her baby brother was happy, her grades had shot up after a month listening to the kids tell facts and experiments to each other, and due to the fact that Nancy was seen as the “Mama” of the household, he overbearing mother had backed off.

It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot.

But it was good, and that was what mattered. 

Eleven was very, very happy.

Dad had fallen in love with Will’s mom, so not only did she get a proper Mumma, but she also got two brothers.

Of course, she already had a brother, and a sister, but now she had two more brothers, and they were cool.

They even lived together, like the families on the TV, with Momma and Dad in one room, Will and Jonathan in the big one downstairs, and herself in the big room in the attic.

It was also nice, because she was close to Mike.

Mike was the best. He didn’t lie, he liked her powers, and he gave her chocolate.

Kali sometimes came, usually once a month, and stayed with her, in her room. Dad liked Kali, because Kali helped other policemen like him stop bad people, like Papa. Kali helped her with her powers, and now, El could find people quicker, and didn’t feel so tired.

Eleven liked the school.

There were mouth-breathers, but after she had made three of them wet themselves when they tried to hurt her, everyone got the message. No one tried to be mean to her, or Mike, or anyone again.

School was also fun because the some teachers liked her.

One of them she had a “unique curiosity” and an “interesting point of view”. It was sometimes difficult, remembering rules like, “say good morning to people, even if it isn’t good” or “ you can’t go in the boy’s changing rooms”, but she did okay.

Mike helped her, and Max did too. Max liked Lucas and she didn’t like Mike, which was very, very good.

Steve was a good big brother. Sometimes, when her Dad and Mom were working late, Will, Jonathan and herself would go over to his house.

Jonathan and Steve would explain stuff like po-li-tics and ec-o-no-my to her and Will, and then Steve and herself would practice their powers.

Steve’s powers were fun, and when they mixed their powers, like they had in the field, Jonathan would take pictures, Will staring at it before drawing it on some paper.

El’s aunt would sometimes come and visit. Her real Mumma was getting better, but she was still gone-but-not-gone.

Auntie would talk to Dad and Steve, asking questions like, “ What will high school be like for her?” and “ When do you think that her powers will stop developing”. Steve said that she was just worried, because she didn’t know what to do. El thought that Auntie worried too much.

El liked this life.

It was fun, it was a life where Will and she would eat Eggos and chocolate in the attic, a life where Mike gave her flowers and hugged her, it was a life with a two good big brothers, a big sister, and a little brother.

Papa and the Monster had tried to take this life away from her.

But they had not succeeded, so she was happy.

And so life went on in Hawkins.

There were still things that couldn’t be said, El and Steve’s powers could never be told to anyone, the names of Steve’s parents could never be told, and Steve still hadn’t really told anyone about the medicines that he was taking daily.

And though people were suspicious, concerned parents listening to their children cry out at night, fighting against something they couldn’t mention, teachers wondering at El and Steve’s flummoxing grades of terrible vocabulary and grammar, but a deep understanding of higher level ethics, science and politics, and the members of Hawkins high school unsure as to why the nine children, of ages ranging from thirteen to eighteen had bonded together; not a single person got an answer.

   After weeks of asking, cajoling, threatening and enticing, most reporters gave up, the group of children and adults refusing to talk with pure stubbornness.

So only one question really remained in the minds on the people of Hawkins: what united these people?

It was a family, pure and simple, with every member contributing.

One day, they all sorted it out, Mike and the rest organising their clan.

Nancy helped the girls with makeup, fashion and history notes and she would tell the boys what their girlfriends wanted, and would help look after the babies, making sure that the clan was all happy, well, as happy as they could be. Jonathan began teaching them about art, activism and music, sometimes surprising himself with the sheer amount of knowledge he didn’t know he had.The would sometimes go out to art museums, Jonathan leading the pack, the adults drinking coffees as their adopted family took notes from the seventeen year-old, official tour guides watching in awe. They were deemed the Teacher and Scholar of the clan

Hopper and Joyce were quickly deemed clan leaders.

Joyce could convince the worried mothers that their children were okay, and just needed more hugs and love when they came to her, asking about strange reactions to bonfires, and sleeping next to the radios. She was the Peacemaker, between the clan, and surrounding populations.

Hopper, he was the General of the clan, he was able to dole out punishments to all members “ if you drive that car, you will clean it until it is like a mirror”, he told them who to avoid, what to say to questioning reporters and how to protect themselves.

The clan leaders were the Peacemaker and the Protector.

Mike was the Youth Representative. If anyone under the age of sixteen had a query, complaint or a petition, such as:” Can we get the man from the Lab to check the tunnels?”. or “ Can we tell the teachers that El can’t read very much so they are less hard on her?”, Mike would go to Joyce and Hopper, and ask it. Mike also was the leader of the kids, unquestionably. He would organise when the Dungeons and Dragon’s conquests would occur, at what time, and where, and he would sort out any other meetings, deciding which parties to go to. He was a fair leader, using votes most of the time, but he did make decisions.

Dustin became the Healer. Dustin, after having realised his love for biology had not died down after the D’art incident, decided that he wanted to become a doctor. He read First-Aid journals, went to read the medical text-books in the library, and got better at looking after people, Steve and Max teaching him practical things such as how to stitch up woulds, how to soothe inflammation , and how to bandage. Dustin learnt what creams to use, what certain pills were for, and became quite overqualified, as all he really did was scold people on what they should be eating, and help bandage up scraped knees, and any mysterious bruises that Max had. But he was important, because he would let Steve and El know their limits, when they had to stop using their powers, or they would be too tired.

Lucas became the Scout. Lucas was a very adept observer, noticing things that many others didn’t, and with his binoculars, spy gear and rather advanced hearing, he knew how to warn the others. Lucas knew that if a new reporter was in town, his Dad would know, or the ladies at the hairdressers where he earned pocket money would gossip about them. He could then warn the gang to prepare themselves to hide, Lucas having found articles and lawsuits which allowed them to refuse interviews. Lucas also warned people when to stop talking, conversations about Demo-dogs, bombs and the Upside Down rapidly changing to ones about the arcade at the sound of a set of taps.

Will was the Administrator, and the Artist. Will wrote down everything, filing it down. Everyones birthdays, graduation dates and any other important dates were filed down, along with allergies, and in Steve’s and El’s case, powers. This became important, because, due to the fact that the pack of eleven people and three infants was so large, birthdays, anniversaries and allergies were liable to being forgotten. Will also drew, knowing that, once Steve, his brother and Nancy went to college, these memories would be precious. There were detailed, beautiful drawings of people, scenes and quotes in his file. These drawings were looked over and cherished, some being framed.

Max became the Zoomer, just as she had predicted. Except, she didn’t just go fast,  she didn't just commit acts of skateboarding, sprinting and skating at mind boggling speeds, no, she confused people with her quickness. When the teacher did not stop asking El why she did not know what gravity was, Max stepped in, flashing as sharp, freckled smile, so close to a fox baring it’s teeth, and she began to speak. Max isn’t quite sure what she said, El’s confused looks and the teacher’s uncomfortable shifting indicating nothing, but she finds that this is a good method for getting people to shut up and leaver her alone: out-talk them.

The Babies don’t really do much. Johnnie, at eighteen months crawls everywhere, latching onto people’s arms, and gurgling words mixed with the occasional “Dadadada” , “mamamama” or “fend”, or more regularly, “ more”. Barbie is like a soft rag doll, circling up in people’s arms, sucking on crackers and letting the girls practice with her hair. Robbie, being the youngest, spends most of the time sleeping, sticking toys and pencils into his mouth. They are the Babies.

El is very quickly decided to be the Elvenqueen, and she does not mind being likened to Lady Galadriel. El still doesn’t talk much, but she uses her powers freely and happily, lifting boxes, opening doors and even helping the TV connection with only a droplet of blood appearing under her nose. She also helps people, sometimes alerting Max if Billy is angry, telling Mike to stay for a while because his parents were fighting, or hugging Steve more when, in her weekly checks, he looks too tired. El is their mage, and she is fiercely protected , much more than the Ring of Nenya protected Lothlorien.

And Steve—

It takes them a while to figure out what Steve is.

In this world, big brother seems to be the best word, but they spend time poring over books, manuals and materials to work out who Steve is.

Dustin comes up with it, and it sticks, for ages: Steve is their Aragorn.

It fits perfectly. The normal human, seemingly needlessly dragged into the realm of elves and wizards, before revealing his own power, heritage and strength. Not their main leader, but their glue, the one that can lead when necessary, the one that cares for everyone, and the one which survived, against all odds. It fits. Steve was dragged into the mess of Hawkins lab by Nancy and Jonathan, who didn’t know that he had been involved with it for years, secretly. They had all though him useless in the battle against Brenner, until he turned out to be El’s brother. And they all knew, if it came to it, if Hopper was busy, and Mike didn’t know what to do, they could all go to Steve. Steve was their king, one of their leaders, one of their Fellowship.

And, the clan, the fellowship, the family, remained together.

And That Was The Tale Of Five.