Archive of Our Own

"That's your favorite, isn't it?" Papa asked, sitting next to 010. He gestured to the magic 8 ball in 010's hand.

010 nodded silently, wary.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Okay," he answered slowly.

"Are you up for more lessons?"

010's voice failed him, so he turned back to the ball, raising it to face level. He shook it, feeling beyond the hard plastic exterior and into the middle of it. The middle where there was another shape. It was like a ball, but not; more angular with 20 flat sides instead of one smooth, curved one. He focused on the face he wanted to turn to the window.

Signs point to yes.

"Good," Papa said, standing and leading him out the door.

010 waited for them to get to the individual testing rooms to speak again.

"Papa, I have a question."

"What is it, 010?"

"Why do you call me 011's sister?" he asked softly.

"Because she is your sister, 010."

"But you call 002 our brother. Not our sister."

"The distinction doesn't really matter much. Why? Would you rather be called 011's brother?" Papa asked. 010 was scared to answer, but he nodded slightly.

Papa wrote something down on his clipboard, and then pulled out a small plastic box with little grey plastic objects in it. 010 looked at them, confused.

"Do you know what these are, 010?"

010 shook his head again. "No, Papa."

"These are called dice. When we throw them, a random number ends up on the top." He opened the box and pulled one out, showing 010 before shaking it and throwing it onto the table. 010 leaned over it to look at the top.

"Five," 010 informed Papa. "I know my numbers. Better than my letters."

"I know you know your numbers, 010. My goal is not to teach you your numbers." Papa poured the dice onto the table, and pushed him toward him. "I want you to acquaint yourself with the shapes of these dice and what side each number is on."

There were seven dice, each light grey with black numbers. One had four sides; one had six; one had eight; there were two which had ten, but the numbers were different on them; one had twelve sides; and the last one had twenty sides. One of the two that had ten sides was numbered zero through nine. The other had two zeroes on one face, a 10, a 20, a 30, a 40, a 50, a 60, a 70, an 80, and a 90. The one with four sides had three numbers from 1-4 on each face, with them turned so that they were in the corners of the triangle face; when placed down, all three sides of the top point had the same number on them. The remaining four dice each started at number one, going up until it ran out of faces to have a number.

010 held the one with twenty sides in his hand. It felt strange, but familiar; reminding him of his magic 8-ball and the odd shape inside of it. He slowly turned it in his hand, and then set it down. He looked up at Papa, awaiting further instructions.

"Have you committed the potential outcomes to memory, 010?"

"Yes."

"I want you to roll one of them- any of them- and try to influence it to land on the number four."

"The top number is number four?" he asked. At Papa's nod, he picked up the twenty-sided die.

He shook it, mimicking Papa's actions a moment ago, and threw it. He focused hard on trying to make the four land on top. It bounced, falling off the table. He looked up at Papa in fear.

"Sorry, Papa."

Papa leaned down and picked up the die, handing it back to 010. "Try again."

010 took a deep breath and repeated it. It landed on a 14. He sighed softly.

"It's new, Papa. It's hard."

"Try again."

It took him eight tries to get it to land on the four.

"Today's lesson, 010, we're going to be focusing on your illusions."

010 nodded, watching Papa pull out two small plastic discs. He set them down in front of him.

"One of these discs is broken. I want you to make it so that when the orderly checks them, he will not see which one is cracked."

010 looked over them, scanning for the broken disc. It was the one on his left. He focused on the crack, and then imagined it filling in with plastic. He pushed until he could see the crack flicker in and out of existence. He held it as Papa gestured for the orderly to check. At the orderly shaking his head, Papa made a note.

"Very good, 010."

Over time, with practice, 010 grew more comfortable with the dice. He became more confident with his abilities to influence how it fell. After weeks of practice with the dice, Papa brought him to the test room and did not hand him the dice. 010 felt his throat constrict. He'd grown to feel comfortable with his dice. He'd grown to feel safer and now he wasn't getting them and now Papa was going to be mad because he wasn't making progress on anything else-

"We're going to try something different with the dice today, 010."

010 nodded, rolling his shoulders back.

Papa opened the little box the dice were kept in. "I want you to influence the dice when someone ELSE rolls them. Namely, me. I want you to try to land on the three today."

010 nodded softly, watching Papa select the four-sided die. 010 closed his eyes and focused on the little 3's on the die, feeling them as Papa tossed the die. He opened one eye when it hit the table, looking at the die. It had landed on the three. 010 breathed a sigh of relief, opening the other one and staring at the die. Papa wrote on his notepad and lifted selected the ten-sided die next.

Papa slid a piece of paper across the table. It had a drawing of a die on it- orange, with black numbers and a bat inside.

"I want you to see if you can make this appear. Not as an illusion- I want to see if you can create this."

010 nodded. He looked over it, and then focused, hard. He imagined the die sitting on his hand; the (albeit small) weight, the smooth texture of the plastic. The illusion flickered once, twice.

His nose bled. The lights brightened, and then flickered off and on.

But the orange die appeared on his hand, and inside it, the bat flapped its wings.

010 woke up feeling nauseous. It's the same feeling as when 008 left, he realized, back when the Rainbow Room was small and they were only allowed in groups of two or three. He took a breath and tried to calm himself. He'd ask one of the orderlies to take him to the infirmary, he decided. He pulled himself up and walked to the rainbow room.

He immediately hit the wall.

When 010 woke up again, he was somewhere he didn't recognize, with someone he recognized as a guard, who was sitting in front of him doing something with a weird circle. A folder sat next to him, like one Papa had used. The room he was in was moving. He looked up at her, confused, and opened his mouth. He was interrupted.

"Stay laying down, 010. Papa thinks you're dead. You stay down under that blanket like you're asleep."

010 listened. He didn't understand, but he wasn't going to disobey. He made himself as still as he could and shut his mouth tightly. He waited, ignoring her conversation with a different guard. What felt like hours later, the guard told him to sit up. 010 obeyed, looking around. There were windows in this moving room; outside, there were trees and buildings like in the pictures and books from the Rainbow Room.

010 didn't say anything. He just stared straight ahead, waiting for more instruction.

"Do you know your name?" the guard asked.

"010."

"Your name, not your number."

010 looked at the guard, confused. She smiled kindly, glancing at him before returning her eyes to the road.

"It's Marija, Munson."

010 bit his lip. It didn't sound right, but he accepted it.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you tell me?"

The guard sighed softly. "Because you're not going back to the Rainbow Room. Papa thinks you're dead, so I'm taking you to your family. Your mother and father."

"I don't have a family. I have my brothers and sisters in the Rainbow Room."

The guard sighed softly. "I know it's going to be hard, Marija. It's nothing like what you know. But you're safer in the real world. Away from the lab."

010 turned and stared out the window. "Why does Papa think I'm dead?"

"Because everyone else is dead. You were going to be cremated, but someone noticed you were breathing, so he stole a copy of your file and decided to send you home. I got fired, so. I chose to drive you to your family."

010 nodded. He didn't understand, but he was tired. He closed his eyes and waited.

"Wake up, Marija, we're here."

010 opened his eyes, blinking up at the guard- former guard, really. He looked around, seeing that they were in the woods somewhere. There was another car there, sitting on the other side of the dirt path; the guard was getting out and carrying with her the file. He opened his door, pulling the handle and pushing it with his other hand. He stepped into the dirt and followed the guard.

"Are you Marija's father?"

"He's in prison, I'm her uncle. My name's Wayne."

"Mine's... Not important, and I'd rather not give you a way to contact me. Did Vic contact you?"

"Said she was taken for some kinda experiment- to give kids powers of some kind. Frankly I don't care why she was stolen, I just want my niece back."

010 looked at the man- Wayne, apparently his uncle. He had white hair like Papa, but he didn't seem as strict or clean as Papa. He looked nervously at the guard, and then back to Wayne. Wayne smiled at him, a genuine kindness he wasn't used to seeing. The guard handed the folder to him, and he opened it, looking through it.

"'010?' What's that mean?" he asked, looking at the guard.

010 showed him the tattoo on his arm.

"There were other kids," the guard explained. "They each got a number instead of a name, I think to depersonalize the research."

A look of horror crossed Wayne's face, and it only worstened as he glanced through the file. "The fuck is all this? They were doing this to kids?"

"Unfortunately. Listen, Wayne, it's best if you take Marija home now and read those papers later."

Wayne nodded, looking back at 010. "They didn't even give you shoes?" When 010 shook his head no, Wayne sighed. "That's okay. It'll all be okay, I'll get you shoes and real clothes."

Wayne opened the back car door, gesturing for 010 to get in. He listened, eager to get off the hard dirt.

Wayne turned on the stereo on the way home. 010 listened to the music in silence. It only took a minute for him to start moving his head along to the music. Wayne glanced at him and smiled.

"You like this song, Marija?" he asked.

"Like?" 010 asked.

"Yeah. Means it makes you happy. Does this song make you happy?"

010 thought for a moment, nodded.

"It's Van Halen."

"Van... Hay-len?"

"Van Halen. That's the name of the band that made the song."

"Band?"

"A group of people that make music. They make up one name when they make music together so people can remember how to talk to them."

010 nodded softly. "Why do you call me Marija?"

"It's what my brother called you. His wife and him wanted to name you that. Before they took you away."

010 took a moment to process that, before looking out the window again. "Where are my parents?" he asked.

"They... They got taken away from me, too. It's because they broke some very big rules, some very important ones that keep everybody safe. They got taken away and now I can't see them anymore."

010 nodded again. He closed his eyes, focusing on the music, and started shaking his head in time. Wayne didn't judge. He didn't force him to stop. He just let him process it.

"Muh-ridge-ya?" 010 asked, looking at the name on the door. Wayne's trailer was small, but there was enough room for two bedrooms. The door that lead to his room was brown, and Wayne had hastily written her name on it after hearing that the kids wouldn't enter a bedroom without their designation on the door.

"Muh-ree-uh, it's spelled differently than it's said. Sorry the room's pretty empty, I wasn't given much notice I'd be havin' a kid here."

010 opened the door slowly. It was hastily cleaned, with old, worn carpet; there was a bed with a mattress on it, and the walls were off-white, mostly all one light color but some patches were darker or lighter. There was an old desk with splintered legs in the corner, matched with a dining room chair, and a bookshelf with a few assorted books on it. Some were very thin, some were thicker. On the bed were a small collection of teddy bears, two pillows, and a bunch of blankets.

"It's good," he told him. It had more than his bed at the lab.

Wayne nodded softly. "There's... I didn't know what clothes size you'd wear, so I just grabbed some things. They're in the closet and when I get paid, we can change everything up to what you want."

The clothes, 010 discovered, were simple; black leggings and sweatpants, a few different colors of plain t-shirts, a couple nice-ish looking dresses. He put on a white shirt and a pair of sweat pants before venturing out to where Wayne was heating up something at the stove. He sat down on a chair, watching and waiting.

"Do you like strawberries?" Wayne asked.

"I don't know."

"Do you want to try them?"

"Yes."

Wayne put some strawberries on a plate, along with some mush 010 recognized as oatmeal.

"How do I know if I like it?"

"It makes you happy."

010 nodded softly and picked one up, biting into it.

He liked it.

Marija had to wait several weeks before Wayne had the money to take him to get new things. He didn't mind, but he got a little overwhelmed when they went out. Wayne held his hand to ground him. They started with a toy store, getting some of the things Marija was familiar with- a magic 8-ball, which Marija held as they travelled through the store; a chess set; a couple other small things. There were also more toys- stuffed animals, dolls. Normal toys.

They quickly found him some more clothes- primarily, he liked black clothes, and when they found shirts with some of the bands Wayne had found his nephew to like, Wayne grabbed those for him too. He made sure he had a watch that covered the tattoo on his arm. Marija stopped, on the way out of that store, stopped to stare at a poster of a man playing a guitar. Wayne looked at it.

"You can learn how to play, too. Not yet- but you can."

Marija turned his head, looking up at Wayne. "I can learn?"

"Yeah. I can work in guitar lessons for you. If you want."

As it turned out, Marija was extremely talented with a guitar. Using a shitty, second-hand one, he very quickly learned how to copy the music that his teacher played. He even got to show off to someone his age in the music store when he was picking up strings.

"That's really cool. I'm Gareth."

"Marija."

Gareth was a friend for life, as it turned out. He played drums, and he had a small band with two of his other friends. Marija was quickly introduced to said friends and given a spot in their band.

"Any reason particularly you have that buzz cut, Marija?" Gareth asked, watching him tune his guitar.

"Oh, um... Papa cut our hair," he explained.

"Damn. Sucks that your dad did that. Don't you live with your uncle now?"

"I do."

"You should ask him if you can grow it out, you'd look badass with longer hair. Besides, you can always shave again if you want."

Marija thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I'll ask him when he picks me up."

Gareth smiled at him. Then his eyes widened. "Hey, have you ever played D&D?"

"D and... D?" he asked slowly.

"Dungeons and Dragons, it's a game, we all play and we were looking for one more player. Hell, maybe even after the campaign, you'd be a good DM!"

Gareth set a small bag in front of Marija. They were playing at Gareth's house, using Gareth's set; and Marija was fiddling with the twenty-sided die. Gareth had lent him a set of dice- black with white numbers. They were comfortingly different 

"That's a d20- er. We call them by the number of sides they have. This one's a d4, a d6, d8, d10, d12, and d20. This one's also technically a d10, but we call it a d100. You roll it with the d10. If you roll all zeros, you land on 100. If you roll just this d10 and you get 0, you get a ten. If you roll a zero on the d100 but something other than a zero on the d10, you take whatever the d10 number is."

"Is there a specific number you want to roll?" Marija asked. He knew he could change it-

"That depends on whatever roll we're doing. But the entire point is that it's random, it's uncontrollable. That's what makes it fun."

Marija nodded. 010 changes dice to make Papa happy. Marija lets the dice roll on their own.

Gareth smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, I'm sure you'll love it."

Marija did, in fact, love it.

"Marija? We need to have a little talk."

Wayne was holding his file, the one the guard had snuck out with him. Marija's heart pounded in his chest. He sat down across from his uncle, staring silently. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, and he hadn't seen that file since he was taken from the lab.

"I was rereading the file, and I found out that you wanted to be talked about like one of your... Brothers, at the lab, instead of your sisters? I guess it kind of confused me. I just want to make sure I'm doing what you need."

Marija nodded slowly. "Yes."

"And that when you started... Developing. You were uncomfortable with the way you looked."

Marija nodded again.

"But you seemed to respond better after you started being treated like a boy instead of a girl. So are you happier if I treat you like a boy?"

Marija nodded again.

"... Are you having trouble talking?"

Marija nodded again.

"Okay. I'm not mad at you, I hope you know. I just want to make sure I'm doing what's best for you, but I don't always know what that is. I want you to tell me when something's wrong so I can help. Understand me?"

Marija slowly started to calm down. He nodded, offering a slight smile. It was easier being heard.

"Do you want me to call you something else? Not a girl name anymore?"

"Is there another name you can call me?"

"I don't know. I don't know what kind of name you'd want to have, I don't know what name you'd choose. And your parents didn't have a name picked out for if you were a boy."

"Name... I'd choose?"

"Yes. Sometimes, people don't like their names, so they pick a new one."

Marija looked down. "Can I think about it?"

"Yes. And there's a couple other things to talk about. It says that some of your trials involved changing the outcomes of dice?"

Marija nodded. "I can sort of... Pull the face up? The one that I want?"

"You have to roll dice in that D&D game you play with your friends, right?"

"Yes."

"You don't change your rolls then, right? You can't change your rolls. Or anyone else's. It wouldn't be fair to your friends."

Marija shook his head. "No, of course not. Part of the fun is not quite knowing what's going to happen."

Wayne nodded. "Good to hear." Wayne slid a small cardboard box across the table.

Marija opened the box cautiously. Inside, he found a black leather pouch, and next to it, a set of black dice with red numbers. He grinned and looked up at Wayne. "Thank you."

"Figured if you'd be playing every week, you should at least have a set."

Marija jumped up and hugged Wayne tightly.

"I think I like the name Eddie," Marija said.

"Like Van Halen?" Gareth asked.

"Hm? No, it means guardian of- Van Halen?"

"Yeah, the guitarist of Van Halen's name is Eddie Van Halen." Gareth showed him a magazine. Marija laughed and pulled it from his hands.

"He looks hot," he commented. "This was the first band I listened to when I got out of- when my uncle brought me home."

"That's great. Man, you didn't even know?"

"No, I didn't, I... Kind of forgot the individual members had names in bands. I've been thinking of us as Corroded Coffin since... Damn."

"I think Eddie suits you, as a name."

"... It does." Eddie grinned, shaking the magazine at him. "I'm taking the name. It's mine now."

Eddie cursed as he saw the crack developing on Gareth's d6. It wasn't his die to break- and he couldn't replace the sentimental value of that particular die, either. He only had it to step on because Gareth had forgotten it at the table last week. He looked around to make sure Wayne didn't have any guests, and focused on the die.

He pushed an illusion onto it, the illusion of an uncracked, but still scratched, surface; remembering the first time he rolled the die. And he pushed beyond that, imagining it fix itself. His nose bled, but he didn't care much about that. He watched as his illusion flickered, once, twice, and then disappeared completely as the plastic rejoined. He beamed and shoved it into his pocket, turning to head out.

Eddie skimmed his fingers over the image of the mimic. It was small, and he knew it was meant to be made of wood and stone. He wondered, vaguely, if he could create it. He bit his lip, looking over at his uncle, who was reading the newspaper. Wayne knew the experiments he'd been part of. Maybe he'd know more...

"Wayne?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Wayne responded, unconcerned.

"Do you think it would be unfair if I used my powers to like... make things?"

Wayne looked at him. "Make things?"

"Yeah. Um. In my game, part of what we do is we have minis so we can show everyone what we're thinking. Like, where everything is. Do you think it would be unfair if I made those minis? Just so we have them on hand?"

Wayne thought for a moment, before setting down the paper. "Have you done it before?"

"Kind of? In the lab. I made a die for Papa. With an extension of the illusion powers."

"Show me what you mean by making."

Eddie looked down at the picture again, and then held his palm out. He thought of holding the little wooden chest. It wouldn't be much heavier than a couple dice. He reached for the picture in his head. He pushed until the image appeared. He pulled, pulled until the light flickered and his nose bled and the wooden mimic sat on his hand. He held it up.

"Eddie, you're bleedin'-"

"That happens when you push yourself," Eddie shrugged. "I don't do it much."

Wayne sighed softly, then looked at the mimic.

"I guess. Just don't hurt yourself doing that, alright?"

"I promise."

She looked... Ten. She looked the same age he was when whatever happened at the lab that had got him sent back to live with Wayne.

And it hurt, to remember how young he was. It hurt to see this child here, ready to play the game he'd been running, when at this age he was too scared to talk to anyone, when at this age he was adjusting to a world that he thought existed only in storybooks. She was a little girl. She didn't even have buzzed hair like all the other children he'd seen when he was her age.

"Absolutely not," he told Henderson and Wheeler and... Eddie didn't know this girl or her name, but he'd already had a stark reminder of his past in the woods. He already had a reminder when setting the lighting and focusing on the illusions to make the game feel the right way. He didn't want to be reminded of it again, not when he was focusing so hard on the illusions he had and could slip and show them.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered," Dustin protested, gesturing to the girl.

"This is Hellfire Club. Not Babysitting Club."

"I'm eleven, you long-haired freak," the girl interrupted, with a fierceness very much not typical of the other kids in the Rainbow Room. Competition, yes. Boldness, no.

"My, my. The child speaks." He looked around at the other members of the club, debating. Is it worth the risk of turning the walls white? He stood up, pushing the chair back with a screech and approached. "So, what's your name, child?"

"Erica Sinclair," she answered. She walked with confidence he only remembered in 002, stepping forward to meet him. She wasn't afraid. He laughed, refocusing on something else.

Sinclair.

"So this is Sinclair's infamous sister." Still smiling to hide his insecurity, he looked around the room at his candles, and then looked back at her.

"He's sharp." Erica turned to look at Mike and Dustin, as if she couldn't believe they were wasting her time with him. He heard Gareth's laugh before anyone else's, turning and casting a glare at his... First friend? Ex boyfriend? and the laughter stopped.

If I let her play, she needs to be prepared.

"What's your class and level? Level one dwarf?" His band laughed behind him.

"My name is Lady Applejack," Erica was unphased as she continued,"and I'm a chaotic good half-elf rogue, level 14." She stepped forward. "And I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death. So, we gonna do this, or we gonna keep chitchatting like this is your mommy's book club?"

He contemplated for a moment longer, impressed. He broke out into a smile, almost against his will, as he realized it'd be a shame to waste the potential of playing, and offered a hand to her. "Welcome to Hellfire."

It took only a few minutes to work Lady Applejack into the game, and she worked in tandem with the other players as if she'd been there the entire game. He was very happy to find how little she broke immersion; the illusions he'd cast were easy to keep up and she wasn't a scared, lost child. She was a D&D player with skills in strategy and improvisation.

"You are scared, you are tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists?" he asked, almost praying that they said yes, that Erica got to keep her character and play with the next generation of Hellfire. "Or do you stand your ground and fight?" When they didn't answer, he urged them. "Come on."

Dustin gestured to wait, contemplating. "I say we fight. To the death."

"To the death," Mike agreed.

"To the death," Erica thirded. The whole table got excited at that, and Eddie laughed along and nodded his head while they let out their cheers of agreement. Toward the end, the immersion was interrupted.

"Time out, time out!"

The entire club huddled in together, discussing the battle.

"Guys, I hate to say this, but we've gotta flee," Gareth pleaded.

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree, to the death?" Erica snapped. Eddie grinned. This was what D&D was for.

Choices not dictated to you by those in "power" over you.

"That wasn't literal!"

"Vecna just decimated us," Jeff argued. "We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin asked in disbelief. "He only has fifteen hit points left. Don't be pussies."

"Pussies? Really? 'Cause we're not delusional?"

"Delusional? How about not cowards?"

"Hey!" Eddie called, not wanting them to cross lines. "If I may interject, gentlemen, Lady Applejack. Whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Gareth the Great's concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes."

Dustin looked confused, and rightfully so.

"Not today, 'kay?" He smiled, looking over them.

"One sec," Dustin requested, pulling them back into the huddle.

"What do you think, Mike?"

"How many hit points do you and Lady Applejack have left?" Mike asked.

In unison, Erica and Dustin replied, "Twelve."

"It's risky as hell," Mike admitted. "But you're the ones on the battlefield. So it's your call."

Eddie couldn't think of a counterargument, and neither could anyone else.

"What do you say, Lady Applejack?" Dustin asked.

"You really gotta ask?"

Dustin shook his head. "Screw it. Let's kill the son of a bitch."

"The chances of success are 20-to-1," Jeff reminded.

"Never tell me the odds. Give me the D20."

Eddie tossed him the die and watched him step forward.

Dustin threw it; it rolled almost all the way across the table, ending on 11.

"That's a miss!" Eddie exclaimed, shaking his head the way he always did when he got excited.

Dustin cursed, smacking a can across the room.

Erica took the die, and Eddie leaned in to watch her shake it. He realized, as he did, that this was not the way he wanted her first Hellfire session to end; not with a brutal loss. He felt a twinge of fear that she'd be turned off D&D forever by a bad experience.

010 fakes dice rolls for Papa.

Marija lets the dice roll on their own.

Eddie lets the players win.

The boys started pleading with the dice to let it win. Eddie reached to feel the 20, pulling it, pushing it as Erica threw. He didn't even know if he could still do it as Erica threw the die. He watched it, scared, serious.

It rolled to a stop on the table, right next to the minis.

20.

"Crit hit!" Erica cheered.

The entire table erupted into cheers with her.

Eddie stood up and exclaimed happily, before doubling over in laughter. He didn't want to reveal what exactly he found so astonishing, but they wouldn't have asked.

"That's why we play!"

He bowed and opened his arms toward her, as if directing glory toward her; she stood in a triumphant pose as if to accept it.

One little glory.

When Chrissy floated, Eddie remembered being thrown by 002. He remembered the feeling of hitting the wall of the test room; of the rainbow room. And he remembered the pain. He couldn't save her- did Wayne know he couldn't do this? Did anyone else know?

So he ran.

Eddie cowered against the wall. He remembered it all- the cold tile under bare feet. The struggle as 002 tried to throw him. Trying to make the floor under 002 crack and shift underneath him as 002 lifted him up. Trying so hard, and being thrown.

He remembered focusing on the illusion of the electricity on the circle. Pushing to make it real, to make it move.

He could feel the door opening under his hands before he was thrown into the walls of the Rainbow Room.

He could feel the blood dripping from his nose as he forced three dice into three rolls, as they fell from Papa's hands.

He could hear the orderlies calling him. 010. 010. 010. 010.

"We just want to talk," Dustin assured him, as he shook with the broken beer bottle in his hand. "Okay?"

The band girl-Robin- crouched down next to him. "We wanna know what happened."

"You won't believe me," he forced out, pulling himself away from his mind.

"Try us," the other one- Max- challenged quietly.

He stared at her, broken. Desperate for her to maybe, actually, believe him. He didn't dare risk telling them about the Rainbow Room. Not about 002 throwing him, or 011 throwing 002. Not about Papa.

But he could tell her about Chrissy, maybe.

"Her body, just, like, lifted, up into the air and, uh... And she just like, hung there. In the air. And her bones- uh, she-" his voice broke. He tried again, desperate, turning his head as if to force more words out, and they came strained. "Her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man. It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling. I... I didn't know what to do, so I... I ran away. I left here there."

He shook his head, turning away. "You all think I'm crazy, right?"

"No, we don't think you're crazy at all-" Dustin started, voice too wise for his age, and Eddie couldn't bear the thought that he might know enough to believe him.

"Don't bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!"

"We're not bullshitting you-" Max.

"We believe you." Robin, voice pressed a little more.

He breathed out hard.

"Look," Dustin started, "what I'm about to tell you might be a little... Difficult to take."

"Okay..."

"You know how people say Hawkins is... Cursed? They're not... way off. There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes, it bleeds into ours."

"Like ghosts and shit?" Eddie asked, thinking about some of the storybooks he'd read, the monsters in D&D, the campfire tales Wayne's friends and the members of Corroded Coffin told him. Were they witnesses too? Was there one about a boy like him?

Was he a hero in those stories?

"There are some things... worse than ghosts," Max added.

"These monsters, from this other world," Dustin took the narrative back. "We thought they were gone. But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you."

"If they're back again, we need to know."

"That night. Did you see anything?" Robin.

"Dark particles, maybe?" Max.

He shook his head, thinking, trying to separate illusion from reality.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust," Dustin added.

"No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh... or touch." Eddie took a deep breath. "You know I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she- she was in a trance or something."

"Or under a spell." Dustin again.

"A curse."

"Vecna's curse."

"Who's Vecna?" Steve asked.

"An undead creature of great power," Dustin told him.

"A spellcaster."

"A dark wizard."

Part of Eddie knew, then.

It had to be someone from the Rainbow Room. Someone he didn't know existed, who he thought didn't, because why else would they let him out?

001.

Eddie felt the energy under the wires, reached for it to connect. He didn't actually know how to hotwire a car, but he knew his father had been a criminal. Hotwiring sounded like a criminal thing. He could pass it off that way, right?

Eddie didn't remember exactly how it happened, but he knew after he passed out, he woke up in a hospital room with Steve sitting next to him. He could hear Wayne outside the door, talking to Dustin. When he looked down at himself, he saw bandages where his legs should be. Panicking, he looked at his bandage-wrapped wrist.

Still covered.

No one knows.

Steve took his other hand, the one he didn't want to hide, and smiled.

"Afternoon, Munson."

"Where's my uncle-"

"He's outside, he's in the hall with Dustin, he only got here a minute ago. It's okay, Eddie, look at me. It's okay."

Eddie looked at him, eyes wide and fearful.

"He's been here every day since we told him where you were-"

"I want to talk to him."

"Okay. Okay, just give me a minute." Steve ran his thumb in a circle around the back of Eddie's hand, then stood up.

Eddie watch as Steve walked away. He came back with Wayne, who grabbed Eddie's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I didn't do it, Wayne, I swear-"

"I know you didn't. We all know you didn't. But you did lose your legs, so you're gonna be stuck here for a little while."

Eddie nodded, tears welling up. He didn't like it. He hated the white, hated the hospital clothes, hated the pain. But most importantly, he was confused.

"It was Erica's idea to frame it all on Carver," Steve told Eddie, watching him fiddle with the dice Wayne had brought him. "She said it all made sense- he knew two of the victims, I dunno."

"What did she say?" Eddie asked.

"Said that it was the basketball team, essentially. You aren't physically strong enough to do what happened to Chrissy  Carver found out Chrissy was hanging out with you. Nobody at the party was able to verify any of them hadn't left during the chaos, so they didn't have an alibi. They killed Chrissy, kidnapped you to the boat house. Fred found out what was going on, at which point Carver called the rest of the team. They... Took care of Fred before he could say anything to anyone. Patrick cut the bonds and let you go because he didn't want to go through with it, so they killed him because you were on the run. They spun it against you, obviously, thinking nobody'd believe you. But then they told Lucas what they were doing and he told Max. They were going to go to the police together. The team got her, Lucas was looking for her. The earthquake hit, Carver died, only two members of the basketball team were left to get arrested, Lucas was actively trying to revive Max when the ambulance got to her. Henderson found you when the earthquake hit. You got your legs incinerated in the heat of the ground opening up. Other injuries were from the team cutting into you."

Eddie took a minute to think, then nodded. "Makes sense, yeah."

"And who's going to believe Erica'd lie? Erica, of all people?"

"She is scary," Eddie agreed. "How long was I out, again?"

"Only a few days. Um. The Byers moved back."

"So I get to meet the infamous Zombie Boy?" Eddie asked.

"Will? Yeah, I'm sure he'd want to meet you. And El."

"El?"

"The... Girl with superpowers. Her name's El."

"El's a nice name." Eddie bit his lip. "When do I meet her?"

"Once you get out. Shouldn't be long, according to the doctors."

El looked exactly like she did the last time Eddie saw the lab, only older. Her hair was buzzed too. He felt bad for her- he'd already been told she had tried to grow out her hair. Eddie could see her tattoo. He made sure his own was covered.

"Hi." Eddie's heart hurt. He remembered the way speech patterns were the hardest to mimic.

"I'm Eddie." He offered her his hand. "Welcome back to Hawkins."

If she saw his tattoo, she didn't say.