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When Eleven comes out of her trance it’s in a burst of tears. She sobs out emotions that she can’t voice, Mike quickly trying to help. Will does too, both on either side of their friend, but she shakes her head and shoves their hands away. Will lets his arms fall, scared for the sister he’d grown to love in their months together. He can see the way Mike keeps half raising his hand before dropping it, wanting to console his girlfriend. Girlfriend . Will doesn’t want to think about that right now, but he can’t pull himself away from it. His eyes go from El, wet with salty water as she pulls her knees to her face and lets out a heartbreaking wail, to Mike, confused and distressed and feeling helpless.
Everyone is quiet while she cries, the atmosphere of the pizza shop a stark contrast to how it was just an hour ago. Even Argyle appears surprisingly sober. This is all new to him, and Will doesn’t think the weed would keep him numb to everything if he tried.
Will feels a pang of guilt for Argyle being involved at all; he should be back in Lenora, closing up Surfer Boy Pizza before meeting up with friends to have a chill night together. Instead, he’s here, dragged into a hell that followed them all to California. He’d been so hopeful that leaving Hawkins would make everything better, as painful as it was to leave his home and friends. It not only brought new challenges and danger but also hadn’t protected any of them from Hawkins and what happened in the mirror dimension beneath it.
Jonathan is leaning against a cross, arms crossed with unfocused eyes. Will looks at him and can tell he’s thinking and trying to be patient. His fingers tap against his forearm as he sits there and Will knows he’s worried about everyone, same as he is, but especially about Nancy. Nancy who went into the lion's den as part of Max’s plan to stop Henry.
The wait is agonizing, not knowing if their friends survived, and it’s made worse by Eleven's cries. Was she crying because they’d lost? Had everyone set up this elaborate and deadly plan only to die? The thought made Will's eyes sting and stomach twist in knots. He doesn’t know if he could handle that. He doesn’t know if any of them could handle that…
After time ticks by, her sobs grow softer. Her hands slide over her face and grab at her shaved head, sniffles and hiccups shaking her shoulders as she presses her forehead into her knees. She’s trying to steady her breathing, coming down from it all.
It’s Argyle who breaks the silence first.
“You okay, girl-dude?” he asks, voice soft with concern
El takes a deep breath, the curve of her back swelling and shrinking before she pulls her face up from her knees. Her eyes are red and swollen, faint purple bruising from exertion beneath them, and bloody snot is dripping from her nose. She shrugs without looking at any of them.
“What… happened?” Mike asks after a beat. Els eyes focus back to here and now, focused on the wall ahead of her.
“We beat him.” She says it with confidence and anger, a flame flickering in her eye as she glares at the wall. Mike’s shoulders drop in relief, but Will is still tense.
“Is everyone… Okay?” Will asks, dreading the answer as soon as it leaves his lips. Jonathan looks up now, fingers tight around his biceps as he listens. Els’ anger vanishes swiftly, her expression crumpling into sadness that she tries desperately not to succumb to again.
“I… I don’t know,” she manages, voice cracking beneath emotion and fresh tears tracing streaks down her cheeks. She shakes her head. “I- I think? But… but Max…” she suppresses a sob. “I don’t know if Max…”
She bursts into tears again and this time she doesn’t fight back when Mike puts an arm around her and rubs between her shoulders. She leans into him and cries. Cries in fear, cries from exhaustion, cries in uncertainty… Jonathan comes by Will, gently touching her shoulder as he leans in.
“Hey… You did all you could, El,” he says softly, using that comforting voice that Will has grown so used to hearing. He wants to smile at how easily Jonathan took her under his wing as their sister, how quickly they came together but smiling feels impossible.
El nods, wiping the tears from her eyes as Will wraps an arm around Jonathan and pulls them both into a hug. She sobs again, but as she pulls her face from Mike’s chest, she’s smiling. He hugs her, and Argyle is quick to join in the comforting embrace.
They pull apart as she begins to calm again, fear abated but not entirely gone. Will wants to ask more about what happened and he can tell Mike does too, but both of them are aware of how tired El looks. Now isn’t the time for questions.
Argyle and Jonathan push them out of the kitchen to try and put things back together, hoping to spare the employee kind enough to lend them the kitchen from any third-degree from the mess they made. They couldn’t replace the salt, but Argyle assures Jonathan that they “won’t even notice, probably”.
El is quiet as she sits with Will and Mike, the swelling of her eyes going down and deepening the dark bags of fatigue. More than that, the veins are standing out, dark and bluish. She found and she fought hard. Will hopes her confidence that One was defeated is right. If anyone deserves a break from all of this, it’s her.
As soon as the two have the pizza shop looking back to normal - minus a few hundred pounds of salt - they pile back into the van. They struggle to stay away as Jonathan finds a roadside motel and gets a room for them. They don’t have a lot of money to spend, but no one raises a question at the choice. Everyone is tired and they all silently agree they deserve it anyway. It’s been sleeping in the parked van for the last few nights, and today has been more of an adventure than the last few combines.
El makes quick claim of one of the two beds, kicking off her shoes and curling up beneath a sheet. She’s out almost as soon as she does down. Mike shares the bed with her, and although Will offers the other to Argyle and Jonathan, Argyle settles into the chair by the coffee table and urges the brothers to take it. They’re too tired to argue, so he crawls in next to Jonathan and tries to sleep.
He’s not successful, despite how exhausted he is. No one else seems to struggle, the room quickly filled with soft and steady breathing, punctuated by Mike’s snores. Will can see his outline, back to him as his own tired thoughts take a downward spin.
Will had tried not to think about it, more concerned about El nearly dying and the threat in their hometown and his friends thousands of miles away, but Mike’s profession of love for El tore him open. The wound inside that only he could feel had already been picked over the last few days, like a scab not allowed to heal. The anger at Mike for his silence over the last few months, the way he was focused on El, the way he kept swallowing down his feelings to keep them happy all at his expense…
Except… It was selfish of him to claim it was at his expense. He loved Mike, and he’s sure he loved Mike longer than he was able to articulate that he loved him in any romantic way, but Mike didn’t feel the same. He’d chosen Eleven.
Eleven…
Will had often ignored the feelings he had about his adopted sister. Before they became family out of necessity, his feelings towards her were rarely nice. She’d been the catalyst to his hurt, intentional or not. She was the reason he’d been sent to the Upside Down, the reason he was given this attachment to the Upside Down that lead to the Mind Flayer possessing him. After that, she’d been the reason why Mike stopped being around as much, spending all of his time with her instead. That summer had been miserable, even before the Mind Flayer had made a reappearance. She’d been the reason why Mike had changed.
Will felt like he didn’t even know Mike anymore.
Part of him still wanted to resent her, to hate her. But he didn’t have it in him. Not anymore. Not after knowing how she’d been treated in that lab, how they pushed her to the very thing that upended his life when he was just 12. She’d been 12, too. Forced to do things she didn’t want to do. Things that scared her… And after these months in Lenora, they’d bonded and gotten close. He loved Eleven. Not in the same way as Mike, but in a way that was still strong. She was his sister, his friend. Hell, she was vying for the position of ‘best friend’, despite the jealousy that twisted his gut every time he’d see a letter from Mike but addressed to her.
The animosity he’d felt back then had melted away, and he hasn’t looked back. Until tonight. He fights to push it back where it belongs, in the past.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying, biting so hard into his trembling lower lip that was numb, until Jonathan rolled over and draped a warm arm around Will’s shoulder. He squeezes a little, then lets his arm rest against Will in a light embrace. Will scoots back, pressing himself closer to Jonathan like he did when he was younger and had a nightmare, the position soothing and familiar. Jonathan had always been there for Will, and he still was now, half asleep.
Will pulls the blanket up to his face, wiping away the tears and nuzzling into the pillow. Exhaustion finally pulls him into the arms of sleep.
-
“Henry… Showed me things, when I went into Max’s mind,” Eleven said. They were all in the ban now, heading towards Hawkins in as much of a straight shot as they could manage. Eleven, Mike, and Will all sat in the far back, cross-legged in semi-privacy.
El had wanted to talk to the two of them, the insistence of such making Will anxious, but Jonathan and Argyle didn’t seem bothered.
“I sent him to the Upside Down, but before it became the Upside Down,” she starts, looking between Mike and Will and trying to pick her words slowly. “It… It was a different place before he got there, and… He’s not just inside the Upside Down. He became a part of it and took control of it. All of it.”
Her eyes fell on Will and the sadness and fear behind them made his blood run cold as he silently pieced together what she was saying. Mike looks between the two of them, dark brows bent in confusion.
“What does that mean?” he asks. The question stabbed at Will and he wonders how easily Mike forgot all of the fall of 1984.
“Henry was why everything happened. He is not just a part of the hivemind. He is the hivemind,” El says, never taking her eyes off Will. She’s waiting for a reaction, she’s afraid. He realizes she’s expecting anger. “Henry is the Mind Flayer.”
Mike’s confusion drops and he looks at Will. The van suddenly feels too tight a space, the two pairs of eyes on him overwhelming. They’re waiting for something from him, but he doesn’t think he can breathe. His fists ball up at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he feels a cold wave of nausea wash over him.
“Will, you okay?” Mike asks, but he sounds distant now. Will’s ears are ringing, his gaze unfocused.
He manages to shake his head slowly. He doesn’t want to think about this, he doesn’t want to draw the line between the last two dots in his mind. Memories threaten to surface, things he’d held back all this time by a fortress built up to keep himself sane. To keep those around him happy. He needs it to last, he needs it not to fall, he can’t think about-
The Mind Flayer had never just been a monster, an idea that was horrifying in its own right but one that he’d come to terms with. It had been a human, it had been a man. He had felt Will from the inside, slithered in through his mouth and skin and ears and-
Mike was shaking him and calling his name as he snaps out of the single thought that threatened to pull him under. Eleven was watching, afraid but not of him. Afraid for him. The van had stopped, Jonathan looking through the rear-view mirror and calling for him.
Will unclenches his fists, the world coming back into focus. Everyone is looking at him. He hates it.
“Will? Are you okay?” Jonathan asks again.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… okay.” Jonathan’s eyes look doubtful, so Will reaffirms, “I’m fine .”
Jonathan nods after a beat and the van starts moving again. Will can feel El and Mike still watching him, defensiveness spiking. He’s trying to hold it together, stomach twisting from the realization that threatens to strangle him. Eleven looks like she wants to say something, but doesn’t, so the three of them sit in silence.
Will wonders how much Eleven knows about what happened to him that year. He hadn’t spoken about it to almost anyone, tried to keep it to himself as if opening it up would result in splash damage to those around him. But her expression makes him think that she understands the horror of it, at least a little. Maybe mom had talked to her about it. Maybe her worry for Will was a mirror of his mother, who had nearly lost him twice.
Mike finally breaks the silence after a few minutes.
“So… If he controls the Upside Down, does that mean everything is his fault? All the way back to when Will was taken?” Will’s settling anxiety jumps at the mention of his being taken, those memories so hazy and distant that all he can remember is the heavy fear that laced all of them.
“Yes,” she replies, and although he doubts Mike catches it, Will sees her eyes drop in a familiar expression. Shame. She blames herself.
He wants to comfort her but doesn’t know how to. The thoughts from last night dig into him, dark thoughts that wouldn’t stay tucked away in their box. That it was all her fault.
“At least he’s gone now,” Mike adds, his lips pursed with a hopeful note of finality.
Will is watching El, seeing the unease on her face. There’s a shadow of doubt there, that she wants to believe he’s gone but doesn’t believe it. The thought makes Will uneasy, but she doesn’t say anything more. Mike shuffles closer to her, taking her hand in his own. Will watches him squeeze it and finds some sort of satisfaction that Eleven doesn’t squeeze back.
He feels a twist of guilt and looks away, seeing Jonathan’s eyes in the rear-view mirror again. Will pulls his knees up to his chest and lets his head rest against the van.
-
The next time they stop, they shift around the van to get settled for the long stretch ahead. Mike and El take the far back, both leaning against either side of the van with their hands resting together between them, his hand over hers. Will sits ahead of them, by one of the doors on a round cushion with his knees drawn up. Leaning against the window, he watches Nevada turn into Utah, eyes heavy. He wants to sleep, to allow the rumble of the van and the aimless chatter from Argyle as he mans the map to lull him, but his thoughts are too loud for sleep.
The only benefit of his thoughts being so fast, a hurricane in his mind, is that he doesn’t have to focus on any of them. He feels flashes of memory, things he’d worked to stuff down with hopes that they would never resurface. They’re fighting back now, brought back to life with the unsettling revelation. Even though he can’t - and doesn’t want to - think about them, the memories leave him with a pit in his stomach that makes the seemingly endless stretch of road feel even longer.
“Hey, Jonathan?” Will asks.
“Yeah?” Jonathan looks at him in the rear-view mirror, a flicker of worry in his tired gaze.
“We there yet?”
Will smiles as his brother’s face lights up.
“If you start that now, I swear I’ll turn this van around,” Jonathan mock threatens. Will gives a small laugh.
“Hang on, brochachos, I have the perfect cure for a long road trip,” Argyle says.
Will expects him to pull out a blunt - at this point, Will’s even considering taking a hit himself - but instead, he turns on the radio and starts messing with the dials to find a signal. They’re in the middle of nowhere so Will doesn’t think he’ll find any music, but the clear tone of a news broadcaster comes from the speakers.
“- latest on the natural disaster that rocked a small town in Indiana- ”
“Awe, man, I didn’t want some bummer news, I wanted tunes!” Argyle laments, moving towards the dial again.
Everyone in the van simultaneously yells “NO!”, effectively halting him. Argyle pulls away from the radio with raised hands.
“Jeez, dudes, just one woulda sufficed.”
Jonathan turns up the volume, Will learning forward as the broadcast continued.
“ -unprecedented 7.4 magnitude earthquake last night so powerful that it tore open the ground. Numbers on those dead and missing are yet to be released as it’s still too early to tell- ”
Will looks back at Eleven, but her gaze is far away, her hand pulled away from Mike and arms crossed as she looks out the window.
“ -multiple communication towers are down, so folks calling relatives in the area, do not panic if your call cannot get through. We will continue to update on the situation as it unfolds. ”
As the brief broadcast cut to commercial, Jonathan turned it back down.
“Maybe- Maybe it was something not related,” he suggests. No one replied, the mood in the van suddenly darker. Indiana wasn’t a stranger to smaller earthquakes, but something that strong wouldn’t happen in Hawkins.
Will leans against the window again, unease settling in his chest despite the melody of music playing over the radio.
-
Time ticked by slowly as the drive continued, the group only stopping to use the bathroom and stretch, or to grab food. Everyone was quiet, though Argyle frequently tried to diffuse the doom and gloom mood to minimal success.
Closer to the evening, they pull into a rest stop somewhere in the middle of Wyoming. Will and Mike head for the bathrooms, El holding on to Mike’s hand with two fingers before splitting off to the ladies' side. The boys both hit the urinals, silent as they do their business. At least, silent before Mike glances over at Will.
“She’s being all quiet…” he starts, lowering his voice when he hears the way it echoes around the bathroom. “I… I feel like she’s mad at me, but, like, I don’t know. What should I do?”
Will tries to keep his expression neutral. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, tired of their relationship strain and sore about the night prior. Part of him tries to feel good about it, that Mike comes to him with his insecurity. Maybe at another time, he would be happy about it, happy to be there for Mike. But not now. Not about El.
“She just went through a lot, give her some time.” Will doesn’t mean for it to come out harsh, but as surprise flickers across Mike's face, he figures it came out as frustrated as he feels. Mike’s eyes leave Will.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Just needs more time…” Mike murmurs, zipping up his pants as Will finishes.
Will takes extra time washing his hands, Mike doing the bare minimum cleaning and leaving without saying much else. As Will watches after him, he wonders if he should be more sympathetic. He’s always had room to carry his friends’ burdens, to listen to them and help them when they needed… But maybe that had all worn through. Maybe he grew up and ran out of room to offer his friend a shoulder. Maybe he was just tired of doing it.
Will shakes the water off his hands and reaches for a paper towel, sighing.
When had Mike gotten so insecure, anyway? What happened to the leader of their party who was always so sure of himself, who led the party after Will when he had disappeared? The boy who’d always been there for Will , assuring him that everything would be alright.
“Crazy together.”
That felt like a lifetime ago, now. The closest he’d ever felt to his best friend amidst a sea of black terror that ran through his veins. The unbidden memory makes him shiver and he throws the damp paper towel in the trash like it’d stung him.
Jonathan walked in the bathroom now, stretching his arms high and probably feeling stiffer than Will after doing all that driving.
“How you holding up?” he asks Will, brows knit together in worry.
“I’m fine,” Will replies, feeling his hackles raise at that look. That look like something was wrong with him, that he might just break. He knows he’s probably being unreasonable, that Jonathan is just being the same big brother he always was. But he feels defensive nonetheless. “Just. A long drive…”
Jonathan gives a half smile, nodding before sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks unsure.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Like… I know things are hard right now, and whatever Eleven said earlier, it had you white as a sheet…”
Will’s patience was wearing thin and defensiveness taking its place. He felt stifled in here. What made the bathroom seem like the perfect place for them all to trap him anyway?
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Will replies, exasperated now. Jonathan seems taken aback, and the surprise on his face makes Will ache with regret. “I’m just tired, and- and worried about everyone in Hawkins. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
He brushes past Jonathan before his brother can say anything else, not wanting the confrontation to continue further. He needed to deal with this on his own, there was too much going on right now. His own mess of feelings and fear wasn’t something anyone else needed. Not even Jonathan.
Will just needed more time.
As he heads back to the van, Will sees El and Mike standing off to the side while Argyle stretches. There’s an unspoken tension between the two of them, Eleven looking off with her arms crossed and Mike staring at her. Will sighs. It’s going to make the ride feel longer…
He waits with Argyle as he does increasingly bizarre stretches. Will doesn’t care to question him; it’s been a long day, and there’s probably another 12-hour drive ahead of them.
Jonathan rejoins the group making a conscious effort not to look at Will, another pang of guilt hitting him. As his brother heads for the driver's side door, Argyle stops him.
“Hey man, you look burnt out. I can take the wheel for now,” he offers kindly. Jon shakes his head.
“No. I can go a few more hours before we switch.”
“Are we not stopping for the night again?” Will asks. Jonathan turns back to him and he can see how deep and dark the perpetual bags under his eyes are getting.
“No, we… We don’t really have the cash for it. Plus, the sooner we get to Hawkins, the better.” Will agrees with the sentiment, but he’s worried about how tired Jonathan looks. He’s been pushing himself the entire trip, insisting to drive with Argyle or the others on map duty.
“Okay. But, you need to rest, Jonathan,” Will insists. “Let Argyle drive a bit, take a nap in the back. I’ll handle the directions.
That way he can get away from Mike and Eleven, at least a little bit.
Jonathan’s gaze drops in a moment of thought before he relents and nods.
They continue their trek, Jonathan’s light snores punctuating the cassette of reggae music that Argyle remembers he has. He’s got a small smile on his lips, swaying to the music as Will leans against his palm and looks out the window.
The music and snores are the only sound as they drive off away from the setting sun behind them, Mike and El silent and almost like statues. Will glances up at them in the rearview, feeling bad for snapping at Mike and wanting to apologize, to try and mend whatever tension is between them. The other part of him takes a guilty satisfaction in seeing Eleven be so distant from Mike. It’s stupid and petty, he knows that, but he’s still dealing with… Everything.
And they are, too.
Something changed in there, in the dark place Eleven traversed when she fought Henry. No, not something. Everything had changed. None of them felt right, even though she said she’d beaten him. Will knows she isn’t sure that she did. And Mike…
Will doesn’t know why she’s distant from Mike. He thought she might come out of it more in love with him after all he said. After he clearly gave her the will to fight on. Instead, she seems to be pulling away from him, more and more.
His gaze goes back to the boring stretch of uninhabited land they’re driving through. He wants to talk to her. During their months together, they’d gotten close. With Mike and the party so far away and Jonathan stoned and distant in his own way, she was the only one he could really reach out to. Lean on. It was a balanced relationship. She was lonely, too, happy with the letters from Mike but painfully alone in Lenora. Both of them had a hard time making friends, so they ended up becoming each others instead.
Will didn’t mind it. Eleven didn’t either.
He wished he could talk to her about everything that happened in Max’s mind, ask her why she was pulling away from Mike… But he knows he won’t get a chance without Mike being there. Will sighs and closes his eyes, letting the music lull him to sleep. It was a straight shot for the next few hours anyway.
-
They stop a while later at a gas station with twilight behind him and the moon rising in front. Jonathan insists the few hours of sleep he got were enough and grabs a coffee, Argyle resuming the passenger seat for a night of driving.
Mike and El are quiet and tired as Will moves to the back with them, the trio devouring the road snacks that the last of their money had been used on. After that, it’s more silence and more road.
Eleven falls asleep as the sky goes black, the only light now the dots of streetlamps on the highway. Will leans against the window and watches the stars poke through the inky blackness, the night clear of clouds. Behind him, he hears Mike unroll the painting. His stomach flips.
He wishes the painting could’ve spoken for him the way he wanted it to. He’d even lied about the reason he made it, and he’s not sure Mike caught on. Wasn’t that the point of the lie, though? For him to believe it? The thought makes Will’s heart sink. He doubts Mike would ask El about it, especially with her seeming so distant, so the lie might just last. That Eleven had wanted him to paint it for Mike. That it was a gift from her to show how much she loved him.
Why does it hurt so much to admit? Why can’t he just let Mike go? Will takes a shuddering breath, raising his arm against the door and pressing his mouth to his palm again. He doesn’t have time to be crying over a stupid crush he knew would never work. He doesn’t have time to be asked why he’s crying.
Too much is wrong to even try to explain it, so it’s easier to shove down. He blinks hard, a tear rolling down his cheek as he tries to just forget it. A rustle of paper indicates the painting’s been rolled up again, and the descending darkness makes it easy to fall back asleep in the moving vehicle. He tries to welcome it, tired in a way that sleeping on the road can’t fix. They’re almost to Hawkins. Almost home.
He hopes everyone will be there when they arrive.
-
The last stretch of the drive remains mostly uneventful through the night and the following morning. Mike expresses frustrations at the length of the journey and although no one says anything in response, it’s clear they all feel the same. It’s been a long drive, a long few days. A long week.
They’re in Illinois when the air of discomfort shared among the group shifts towards a different kind of tension. An anxiety hangs over them now, so close to completing their journey, eager to cross that finish line but not knowing what’ll be there waiting when they do. El starts to sit more upright rather than curling in on herself, watching out the window with an interest she lacked before. Mike watches her in between glances out the window himself. Will’s foot is bouncing and he can see Jonathan’s fingers tapping the steering wheel out of rhythm with the song playing from the cassette.
Argyle is the only one who doesn’t share the anxiety, but Will can’t blame him. He’s genuinely surprised that he’s still on board with them, with all of this. Will hasn’t seen him or Jonathan steal away to smoke since the night in the pizza shop, but Argyle seems to have slipped into a quick sort of acceptance. He hasn’t even heard him mention if he was going to drive back to Lenora when this was all done, or if he was going to stay with them.
Will felt like he should back, an underlying fear of danger in Hawkins making him uneasy. He doesn’t have a concrete reason for the fear, but he also doesn’t think he needs one. Hawkins had been dangerous for years now. Will knows he has all reason to fear going back to it. They all do. Except for Argyle. And Will doesn’t want Argyle to get hurt…
“We’re almost to the border, wonder if I can pick up the station I used to listen to…” Jonathan mentions, Will looking at him quizzically. Jonathan doesn’t normally listen to the radio, Will knows that much, not even when they lived in Indiana. His tastes were self-classified as ‘weird’ and not on base with what was normally played on the radio. Most of the time, he had his self-made mix tapes. Will figures it’s an excuse to take a break from the same two reggae mixes they’ve had on repeat for the last twelve hours.
He flips the tape off and starts scanning for an FM station, static interspersed with random bits of music and chatter. He doesn’t bother checking the station number when it lands on one playing a Coca-Cola commercial and Will smiles to himself.
It’s strangely nice to listen to the radio commercials, a bit of familiarity after the chaos and exhaustion of all they went through. The comfort ends as soon as the commercials do, the radio station picking up where they left off on a news report. Will's heart sinks as he realizes it’s about Hawkins again, just like yesterday. Eleven is still looking out the window, but Mike’s attention has gone to the radio.
“ It's been less than 48 hours since a 7.4 magnitude earthquake rocked the quaint town of Hawkins, 80 miles outside of Indianapolis, in an event that seismologists are calling "a natural disaster of near-unprecedented scale." A man was saying. Will felt his stomach drop. “ The death toll now stands at 22. But with hundreds more filling Roane County hospitals and many more still missing, officials expect those numbers to rise. I’ve never seen anything like this up here, what about you, Ted? ”
The shock of news is almost glossed over by the co-host who seemed more interested in cracking jokes than taking it seriously, but the little bit of new information and the rising toll of those missing, injured, and dead had made the atmosphere of the van drop somehow lower than it had been before. Suddenly none of them were inclined to cross that finish line.
But it was coming upon them, a sign hanging over the highway reading that they were about to cross into Indiana.
And then they went past it.
And they were one step closer to Hawkins.
A shiver runs down Will’s spine, one that trembles out over his arms to his fingertips. He doesn’t think anything of it, the news still sharp in his mind. Had their friends made it? Will was positive this wasn’t just some bizarre earthquake, but he had no idea what it could have been, and the anticipation of having to wait to find out makes his stomach twist.
The last hour and a half draws out the fear in all of them, the radio playing some rock music turned low as they split off the highway into residential streets. Houses and buildings spring up through trees before being swallowed by them, the roads becoming busier as they get closer.
There’s a noticeable rise in cars going opposite of them. Lots of cars.
Will, Mike, and El are all looking out the windows as they pass them, families packed into their vehicles with all that they can carry strapped to the top or stuffed in the trunk. Another shiver races down his spine, this one harder to ignore and shake off. It’s a tingle that feels familiar, and not in a comforting way. His back tingles with pinpricks of sensation, Will rolling his shoulders to try and dispel them.
They’re coming up fast on the sign to Hawkins now, the little town that was the source of so much grief and tragedy and fear in these last few years. The cars leaving Hawkins are an exodus, people fleeing with what they had left because they couldn’t bear it here any longer. He watches them sadly, but as the trees begin to break in front of them, they all see the pillars of smoke and realize it wasn’t entirely leaving by choice.
Black smoke was being belched into the sky from all around the sprawl of Hawkins, Indiana, a glow at their bases suggesting fire or maybe even lava. If it was ‘just’ an earthquake, one that strong could’ve ripped up the crust of the earth itself… But as they get closer, he feels… Him .
Will swallows but his throat is tight. His neck breaks out in a shiver of goosebumps and he instinctually raises a hand to it. With the shudder comes faint emotion, feelings that aren’t his. Pain, and hurt… but rage, too. Rage towards Eleven . He can feel it as much as he can hear it, even distant, even as far away and as weak as it is, he can hear it .
It scares him. More than the gut-twisting drive to get here at all, more than finding Eleven in the middle of a desert being shot at by a sniper, more than anything that had happened the past week.
He feels like crying, like he suddenly needs to throw up despite the relative emptiness of his stomach. The alien sensation of an Other inside of him makes the dam of his memories over the past few years crack. He has to clench his jaw to hold back the urge to scream.
Dropping his hand, Will turns back to Eleven. She’s watching him, her face clear in understanding without the need for words to be exchanged. There’s a damp shine in her eyes as she turns away, biting her lip and looking back out the window.
Whatever had happened two nights ago, whatever fight she had put up, it hadn’t been enough.
He was still alive.
They weren’t finished with any of this.