Chapter Text
1997 – Chicago
“And then you hold the pan firmly, push it forward, and lift it at the same time. Aaand the crêpe flips—you catch it and place it back on the stove,” he explained, watching the expression on her face. As she looked at him with that open, unmistakable admiration, he felt like there was nothing in the world he couldn’t handle.
“You’re the best” she said, enthusiastically.
“Of course I am,” he replied with a laugh.
A good breakfast would do them both good before heading out. As Mike cooked the last crêpe, she carried the small breakfast things over to the table, careful not to drop anything. Watching her from behind, he thought about how extraordinary she was. She truly was.
So much had happened. That they had found each other.
That was enough...
They shared a pleasant breakfast, talking about the trip ahead. It would be nearly a three-hour drive. But the real point was never the length of the road.
It was the journey itself.
Getting on the road took longer than it should have. Between eating, washing the dishes afterward, and getting dressed, they had already gone past the time they had planned. And then Mike noticed the front left tire—it was flat.
It felt as if something was telling him, "don’t go on this trip".
Ridiculous.
And yet, he was genuinely tense about the journey. To understand why, we have to go back a little. About eight years earlier… to 1989.
The moment he saw the Leaving Hawkins sign, a weight settled in his chest.
Strange feelings—impossible to put into words.
His childhood. The D&D campaigns. School. The Party. His sisters. His mother. Everything that had happened. And El... His first love. His first truly love
It felt as though he was leaving her behind too, along with everything else.
She was everywhere in Hawkins. Her trace was woven into every corner of the town. And in the first place, Hawkins owed its existence to her. Not just Hawkins—the entire world did.
In 1987, the most wonderful girl he had ever known had saved the world by sacrificing herself.
And yet almost no one knew her.
Only him—and a handful of others.
That was unfair.
It was a kindness great enough to warrant renaming the planet itself—calling it El instead of Earth. And still, she was known by no one beyond a few souls.
Unfair.
The world had given her nothing. Her infancy, her childhood—both taken from her. And now her youth as well.
After being free for only four years, she had sacrificed herself for a universe that had never given her anything in return. Even during those four years, she had never truly found peace.
Ninety-nine point seven percent of her life had been lived in unrest.
Unfair.
But he believed.
She was alive.
Maybe not there. Maybe not with him. And maybe they would never see each other again—
he let out a deep breath.
All he wished for was her happiness. That she was happy. That she had found the peace she was always talking about, always searching for.
If he were allowed to be selfish, even just a little, Mike still wanted her. He wanted her to find a way to send him a message one day, to leave him a sign, a direction—to hold her again, to breathe in that beautiful scent of hers.
Of course… if she still wanted him.
Back then, in the last conversations they had while she was in that void, she had said, “I will always be with you.”
One part of him clung to that.
The other part knew it was impossible.
Because it was dangerous. Because he still felt it—as if someone’s breath was right at the back of his neck. It felt as though the world itself was standing against them—against their happiness. “They won’t understand us,” Mike whispered.
And he goes to college. He keeps himself busy in the rush of life.
And he writes… He writes a lot.
He turns what he lived through into a fictional universe. His books take off in ways he never expected, and even if the world still isn’t exactly the one he dreamed of, he comes to know that magnificent wizard.
Eleanor.
While writing the books, he uses the words of love he never dared to put into the letters he sent to El. Because in the books, Miles is braver. His confidence is stronger than the real Mike’s. He speaks words of love to Eleanor—shows it through both his actions and his words. Miles is a good young man, worthy of Eleanor. And Eleanor is happy to hear those words spoken to her.
Everything is fine.
Eleanor loves, and is loved. She saves the world again and again—from villains and from monsters. The books keep coming, one after another, and Mike never wants to return to the town he once left behind.
Until today.
After replacing the flat tire with the spare in the garage, everything is ready for the trip. He starts the car and turns the ring on his left index finger with three fingers of his right hand. Alongside the tension inside him, there’s something sweet as well.
He and his traveling companion.
Tonight, the only unusual thing isn’t that Mike is heading back to Hawkins. He smiles at the other passenger, turns on the radio, and they set off toward Hawkins—for Thanksgiving.
1997 – Hawkins
“And… done,” she said with satisfaction. The menu was exactly the way she wanted it. Everything was in order. The only thing missing now was the guests.
She made coffee for herself and for Ted, handed him his mug, and sank into her favorite chair.
Thanksgiving.
Everyone was supposed to be here this year. Nancy had arrived yesterday. Dustin, Lucas, and Max were already in town. The Hopper family was almost here. Jonathan and Will were expected as well. Holly would be coming with Derek. Steve and Robin were coming, too. Nancy had spoken to all of them.
That was good.
But what about Michael?
Karen took a deep breath. Her son hadn’t set foot in that house for years. Since going off to college, he hadn’t come back—always for one reason or another. Internships. Writing. Especially writer’s block. He traveled a lot. He sent postcards from everywhere he went. She called him often, but he never gave many details.
They had seen each other again when she visited Nancy’s place, but the truth was, they hadn’t really been face to face in three years.
Would he come tonight?
The last time they spoke, he had said he might. But would he really? At least he hadn’t refused outright. There was still hope.
The sound of the doorbell pulled her out of her thoughts. When she opened the door, she saw Nancy—and behind her, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Stepping aside, she welcomed them with a warm smile.
“Welcome, kids.”
They exchanged greetings, and just as the door was about to close, she heard Dustin shout, “Mrs. Wheeler!!”
He came running up, with Lucas and Max walking calmly behind him. Dustin tried to say hello, but he was out of breath from running and could only manage a wave. Karen couldn’t help but laugh. He was twenty-six years old now, but in that moment—at least in that way—he was no different from his twelve-year-old self.
As everyone headed inside, the phone rang.
“Wheelers” Karen said, answering the call.
— Hey, Mom.
— Michael!
— We’re on the road. I think we’ll be there in about two hours. Oops—uh— I have to hang up, she’s feeling sick—SEE YOU, MOM!
— Mich—
We?
She?
Oh…
A gentle smile spread across her face. So he wasn’t coming alone. Maybe—finally—everything had fallen into place for her son. A Thanksgiving miracle.
The doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She followed Nancy as she went to open the door.
And the arrivals were: the Hoppers. And Will.
— Welcome!
— Thank you! Oh my God, it’s freezing out there!
— Isn’t it?
— Yeah… how have you been?
Greetings followed one after another. Everyone talked about what they’d been up to. When Holly and Derek arrived as well, the group was complete.
Everyone was there—except Mike.
Karen was waiting for him. In truth, everyone was. He hadn’t come in previous years—not for Thanksgiving, not for Christmas, not for Easter…
Dustin finally asked the question that was on everyone’s mind, his voice hesitant.
— Mike?
Everyone looked at one another—but Karen’s face was glowing, “he’s coming” she said happily. Smiles spread across the room, wide and genuine, because after eight long years, Mike would finally be setting foot in that town again.
Karen continued, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice “and from what I understand, he’s not coming alone. He said, ‘we’re on the road.’ And just before hanging up, he said, ‘she’s feeling sick.’ I think he’s coming with a girl.”
Eyes widened all around the room. They glanced at one another, surprised, curious.
Hopper spoke up. “If that’s what you think it is, Karen, then I’m glad that kid finally gets to move on. He deserves that.”
The others agreed with him. They had all witnessed—up close—how badly those years had treated Mike. At least the first two years of it, they had seen in brutal detail.
Night after night, he drank himself numb. He cried. He had breakdowns. He used drugs. He withdrew further and further into himself. And, tragically, he attempted to end his life more than once.
Nancy had stood by him through those days. She had gathered every knife in the house, every weapon, every pair of scissors, box cutters, axes, screwdrivers—anything sharp. She had locked away the medication.
But she couldn’t catch everything. She hadn’t been able to stop her brother from cutting his wrist with a shard of broken glass. Holly had found him once, too—barely alive.
Those were terrifying days for her. After that, protecting Mike became an obsession, she watched him constantly, listened for every sound, learned to recognize the smallest signs. She was just a child, but she carried the fear as if it were her responsibility alone.
Because without El, Mike had been completely lost.
He had been lost before—yes—but this time was different. Not only because she hadn’t come back, but because now they had more memories together. More history.
It was death.
And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Once, he had gotten drunk outside the Hopper's cabin, right beneath El’s window. When Hopper heard him crying and begging and went out to him, Mike had collapsed to his knees at Hopper’s feet, clutching at him.
“If you’re hiding her, please—just tell me, Hop,” he had begged. “I swear I won’t try to see her. I just need to know she’s alive. That’s enough. Please.”
But this time, Hopper truly had nothing he could say. If only he had—if only he could have eased the pain of this young man. But he couldn’t...
About eight years earlier, during what would become the final D&D campaign of their childhood, Mike had explained his theory. He had said he believed El wasn’t dead. The theory itself was sound. There was logic to it. A strong possibility, even. But it could also have been Mike’s way of surviving his grief. Because from that day on, Mike never put himself in danger like that again.
The conversation had grown lively. Hopper and Ted were talking about sports and the latest developments in the economy, while Karen and Joyce were discussing a new TV series they had just started watching. Down in the basement, Holly and Derek were tossing around new ideas for future D&D campaigns. Nancy, Steve, Jonathan, and Robin were chatting about work. Lucas and Max were deep into an animated conversation with Dustin and Will about the renovations on their new house.
Then the doorbell rang. The conversations faltered.
Everyone was there—except one person.
And his mysterious companion.
Karen sprang to her feet and rushed toward the door. Nancy followed close behind, and Holly came running up from the basement. The moment Karen opened the door, tears filled their eyes all at once.
He had come.
The son of the house had come home.
Michael “Mike” Wheeler stood outside the door, holding two suitcases. His hair was a little shorter than the last time they’d seen him, now curled; there was a light scruff on his face. He was still tall. And he was smiling.
Karen pulled him into her arms immediately, holding him tight with years of longing pouring out of her. She was crying—crying with happiness.
Her son was here.
After eight years...
Caught off guard by the sudden attention, Mike dropped one of his suitcases and hugged his mother back. Even though Karen didn’t want to let go, after a moment she pulled away, cupped his cheeks with both hands, and looked at the beautiful face of her son—now a grown man of twenty-six.
Oh, how she had missed him.
When Mike’s eyes began to wander around the room, she finally let him go. He stepped inside, set the suitcases down, and greeted everyone with an easy—
“Hey, everyone!”
He saw it in their faces: surprise, smiles, longing.
He had missed them too. Yes, phone calls, emails, and letters were nice—and of course they had seen each other here and there—but never like this. Never properly. They knew he was a writer. That was all. Nothing more.
They didn’t know about the person traveling with him, for example.
Yes. She.. She was still in the car. Her favorite song was playing on the radio, and getting her to leave before it ended was impossible. She formed deep attachments to the things she loved. As that thought crossed his mind, something unplanned occurred to him. Should he warn them first? He didn’t want anyone to scare her with over-the-top reactions, but—
Karen interrupted his thoughts.
“You said ‘we’re on the road’ on the phone, Michael,” she said. “I assumed someone was coming with you?”
Mike answered quickly, a little too quickly.
“Yes! She—umm—yes. She’s in the car. Um. Right as we were getting out, her favorite song came on the radio, and she never leaves a song unfinished. She’ll come in when it ends. Actually, I should go check on her—I still have a few things to grab from the car.”
And with that, he headed back outside.
Inside the house, curiosity buzzed. Who was this mysterious girl? Were they serious, or just flirting? What kind of person was she?
Before anyone could voice their questions, there was a knock at the door again.
Karen rushed to open it. She saw Mike—now carrying two more suitcases—and stepped aside to let him pass, trying desperately to look past him, to catch a glimpse of the girl. But his tall frame and the bags in his hands blocked the doorway entirely.
When Mike stepped inside, he saw the expectation written all over their faces. He took a deep breath.
“Okay,” he began. “There’s someone I want you to meet. I know you’ll be upset that I didn’t tell you sooner. I know you’ll have things to say. But I didn’t want to do this with a simple letter—and it took me time to find the strength to come here.”
He paused.
“She’s been with me for three years. She’s my everything. All I ask is that you treat her normally. Please don’t overreact—she’s a little nervous, too.”
He took another breath.
“All right. Then… everyone, please say hello to Jane Wheeler.”
The moment the name left Mike’s lips, the room froze.
Jane?
Nancy’s hand flew to her mouth. Steve and Jonathan exchanged identical looks of disbelief. Joyce turned to Hopper, stunned. Hopper’s jaw tightened as old emotions hit him all at once. The Party shared a quick, silent glance.
While all of this unfolded, Mike was already at the door, calling for her.
And then Jane stepped inside, hand in hand with Mike.
If that was possible, the shock in the room multiplied tenfold.
They had been expecting someone.
A girl Mike might have met at one of his book signings. Or someone he’d run into during his travels—a girl he’d had coffee with, grown close to over time.
But what they were seeing now was the shock of their lives.
Because no one—no one—had expected the person holding the hand of Mike Wheeler, who hadn’t set foot in Hawkins for eight years, to be a little girl.
Jane.
She was just a child.
Everyone stared at her in stunned silence. She was barely half Mike’s height, with brown hair and large, doe-like eyes—
Wait.
What?
This child looked almost like a clone of El. Or maybe the shock of hearing the name Jane had made it impossible for them to process what they were really seeing.
As the silence grew unbearable, Mike cleared his throat, successfully cutting through their thoughts. Now all eyes were on him.
“Yeah, guys,” he said. “Say hello to Jane. She’s my daughter.”
Every pair of eyes widened as far as they possibly could. Jane, sensing the tension, tightened her grip on her father’s hand. Mike, eager to break the silence again, continued quickly.
“Okay—time for introductions. Jane, this is Grandma Karen.
Mom… this is Jane. Your granddaughter.”
As Karen struggled to process everything she’d just learned, she noticed the girl’s shy glances—and instinct took over. She knelt down and greeted Jane with an excited, gentle, “Hi there.”
Jane looked up at her father, her eyes clearly asking, "Dad?" Mike squeezed Jane’s hand in encouragement and said softly, “Go on.”
Jane let go of her father’s hand and wrapped her arms around Karen. After a brief moment of stunned surprise, Karen hugged her back—tight.
She didn’t understand any of this. When had her son gotten married? When had he had a child? Had it been an accident? And where was the girl’s mother? All of those questions would be asked—eventually. But not now. And certainly not to this little girl.
She was a grandmother now.
Her thoughts were racing. Mike had said "she’s been with me for three years"—but this child was clearly older than three. Four, maybe five. His absence could be explained. But not telling them he had a daughter?
Her thoughts were cut short as Mike began to speak, and Jane loosened her hug. He was introducing her to the rest of the family now.
“Yes—this is Grandpa Ted. Hi, Dad,” he added quickly. “I will answer your questions—” he glanced around the room, “—all of your questions. I’ll explain everything. But…” He nodded gently toward the little girl. “Later.”
Then he turned back to Jane.
“Okay, Jane. This is Aunt Nancy. And Aunt Holly. This is Aunt Max, and Aunt Robin. Nancy is my big sister, Holly is my little sister. Max is my best friend. Robin is a close friend.”
Jane hugged each of them in turn.
Ted stood frozen, his eyes moving back and forth between Jane and his son. There were things he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask. He shifted restlessly—but when his eyes met Karen’s, he stopped. Because in her gaze, he saw a clear message:
Not now, Ted.
"She looks exactly like El" Nancy thought. Especially her eyes…
Max’s eyes filled with tears. She whispered a soft “hi” and hugged the little girl.
Jane looked up at her with wide, curious eyes after the hug and said, “Your hair is really, really pretty!”
With her eyes filling with tears, Max replied, “Thank you. You’re so beautiful too—oh my God, your dress is gorgeous.”
Jane smiled shyly and said, “It’s my favorite dress. My dad got it for me on my birthday.”
As Jane hugged Holly, Mike continued making introductions:
“Uncle Dustin, Uncle Lucas, Uncle Will, and Uncle Jonathan and Uncle Steve.
Dustin, Lucas, and Will are my childhood friends. They’re like brothers to me.
Steve and Jonathan are my friends as well. And this is Derek—Aunt Holly’s friend.”
Jane looked at each of them, greeted them, hugged everyone—but she hugged Dustin a little longer.
For no clear reason, she liked him more.
“I knew I’d be your favorite. And you’re definitely my favorite too,” Dustin said happily, making everyone laugh.
But while he was smiling, Dustin was also thinking—just like everyone else.
Who was this girl?
Had they really grown this far apart? They used to share everything—had they drifted so much that even when they had a child, they hadn’t told each other for three years?
And this girl was definitely older than three.
Had it been unplanned? Had Mike met his daughter later on?
And oh my God… this girl was absolutely El’s clone.
So… Mike had been with a woman who looked just like El and their daughter had taken after her mother.
Fate, huh.
Finally, Mike turned to Joyce and Hopper and introduced Jane to them.
“And sweetie… this is Joyce, the mother of Uncle Will and Uncle Jonathan, and her husband, Hopper.
Did you know? Hop is a police chief. He looks grumpy and strict, but he’s actually a very sweet man—and he’s loved me ever since the moment we met.”
Mike’s comment made both the Hoppers and the rest of the Party laugh
Hopper looked at the boy who, years ago, had driven him absolutely insane with his teenage arrogance. No point lying—he’d wanted to kill him once. Maybe twice. Or three times.
The kid had been a real pain in the ass. Hopper used to clean his guns right in front of him just to scare him.
And somehow, the kid always managed to do something that got on his nerves anyway.
But now…
He was a grown man. And he had a child.
And that child… she reminded Hopper of the second chance he’d been given in life—and lost again. El.
Even her name was the same.
Hopper tried to take a deep breath, quietly, to steady the ache rising in his chest. But Joyce noticed. She gently squeezed his hand for just a moment, then turned back and wrapped the little girl in a hug.
Hopper watched them embrace.
She was about Sara’s age—and the realization hit him harder than he expected
He drew in another slow, silent breath.
Some things never stop holding on, no matter how much time passes
He watched Joyce talk to her. The girl seemed far less tense than she had been when she first arrived. When Joyce told her how beautiful she was, the girl’s eyes lit up.
That was Joyce.
After years apart, they had built a family together. They’d had bad days, of course—and Hopper was definitely not an easy man to live with—but Joyce had always given him a shoulder to lean on in every hardship, arms that held him with love.
This woman truly was everything to him.
The sight of the little girl pulled Hopper out of his thoughts, and he watched her quietly for a moment. Almost everyone in the house could understand the intensity of what he was feeling.
El.
Sara.
And this girl carried pieces of them both.
El’s physical features, Sara’s age.
The innocence they had shared.
Hopper kept looking at her—and she at him. Their eyes met, and Hopper softly, almost in a whisper, said, “Hi.”
Jane took him in for a second… and then suddenly wrapped her arms tightly around him.
Hopper froze.
But only for a moment.
Then he held her just as tightly. And she held him back.
Until then, everyone had thought the most heartfelt hug had been the one with Dustin—but they were wrong.
The hug between Hopper and Jane was different. It was something else entirely.
Anyone who could understand what Hopper was feeling had tears in their eyes.
Nancy could no longer hold them back and cried quietly.
Max rested her head on Lucas’s shoulder, watching the two of them with tears in her eyes.
Will clutched the pillow in his arms, silently watching the embrace through his tears.
And Dustin and Steve turned away, hoping the tears would retreat if they didn’t look.
Joyce, more than anyone, felt what Hopper was feeling—deeply.
This man, this big, solid man… had lost a daughter to cancer. A daughter who had been about Jane’s age. And he had carried that pain for years.
Then life, as he liked to put it, had given him a second chance. Another little girl—one who would have been the same age as Sara if she had lived. He had given that girl a home, raised her, protected her—and she had sacrificed herself at just sixteen.
Hopper had been shattered.
He had thought himself cursed. And because of that, he had tried to keep his distance from Joyce for a while—afraid that the curse might take her too.
They had pulled themselves together. They had endured. They had healed.
Or maybe they had just placed a bandage over the wound—whatever it was. What mattered was that they had built a life together.
And now, his beloved wife felt as if he were holding both of his chances—one gained and one lost—at the same time in his arms.
The girl seemed to have seen straight through him. Her gaze wasn’t empty.
It felt as if a bond had formed between them—something far too deep to belong to a first meeting.
The moment they embraced, Mike’s eyes filled with tears.
The way Hopper looked at her. The way he held her. And the way Jane clung to him just as tightly…
Mike understood Hopper. Every time he looked at Jane, he saw her too.
What he couldn’t quite understand was how Jane had felt such immediate closeness to Hopper.
Of course, Hopper’s name had come up. Mike had talked about him. And maybe Jane had pieced things together in her mind.
Jane was very smart—exceptionally smart. The psychologist had said so too. She was receiving an education well above her age level. Her emotional intelligence was just as remarkable; her ability to empathize was extraordinary. She was always sincere—her anger, her sadness, her happiness were all written clearly in her eyes.
Just like her.
Mike sank into the couch. The tears were now slipping freely down his face. By then, Hopper and Jane had ended their hug. Mike watched as Hopper wiped the tears from his eyes.
It felt different.
It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
He watched as the little girl let go, gave a small smile, then walked back to her father, climbed into his lap, and hugged him tightly.
Mike looked peaceful.
That kid had somehow found his way.
A smile appeared on his face, and he noticed Joyce looking at him. He asked, silently, with his eyes, if he was okay. And she answered the same way.
He was. He really was.
Dinner passed with laughter, teasing, and intense conversation. No one had asked who Jane was yet—because it wasn’t time. They all knew the subject would come up, but clearly it would be discussed when she wasn’t around. Mike would talk when she wasn’t there.
Everyone shared bits and pieces of their lives, but the conversation kept circling back to Mike. He hadn’t been to Hawkins in years. He was the one who had lived like a closed box all this time.
They asked how his writing was going. They listened to funny stories about Jane, to memories from the trips they had taken together. They learned that Jane had a high IQ and was receiving special education. And in everything Mike talked about, there were only two recurring subjects: Jane and writing.
No other woman was mentioned.
After dinner, Derek excused himself and headed home. The rest of them stayed in the living room, talking about one thing or another. Jane was building a town with her LEGO set.
Then Holly mentioned that something about her new campaign had been bothering her—she couldn’t quite piece the dungeon scenario together in her head. Mike offered a few suggestions but said he’d really need to see the full scenario and the dungeon map.
Yes, he was a grown man.
And yes, he was absolutely in the middle of a conversation.
But the campaign had already taken over his entire mind.
He was that kind of grown man.
What was wrong with that?
He apologized and asked for a moment.
“Sweetie, you stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said to Jane. She nodded and went back to what she was doing as Mike headed toward the basement.
When he reached the basement door, he stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment.
The memories hit him all at once.
Of course they had never left his mind—but being there, standing in that spot, stirred something strange inside him. That was why he had left Hawkins in the first place. All of it had become too heavy to carry.
This basement had held so much.
It had witnessed endless D&D campaigns, Star Wars marathons, disgusting competitions like who could fart the longest.
It had witnessed him hiding the love of his life.
It had witnessed him calling for her on the radio every night when she disappeared for the first time.
Their secret meetings.
His withdrawal after she moved to California.
His crying when he missed her.
The letters he wrote to her.
The dreams he built around her.
And everything that came after she was gone.
The breakdowns.
The rage that had him destroying everything around him.
The drugs.
The alcohol-induced coma.
The suicide attempts—two of them terrifyingly close to succeeding.”
His desperate pleas into the radio.
His screams...
It had witnessed everything.
He trembled.
It all still felt unbearably fresh. He took three deep breaths—in and out. Holly had already started talking about the campaign again.
Mike shook it off. Now, as a professional storyteller, he would focus on creating a great campaign. He would keep his mind busy with that.
He needed to.
When Mike left, Jane kept working with serious focus. The conversation continued. As Karen talked, she kept an eye on Jane at the same time.
Her granddaughter…
She was a sweet, quiet-looking girl—and she was perfect. Because she was her granddaughter.
Karen had always imagined this. Being a grandmother.
The kind who baked cookies for her grandchildren, bought them gifts, and always took their side—even against her own kids.
Yes. She should bake cookies. First thing tomorrow. And buy lots of presents too. For her granddaughter. With a smile, she returned to the conversation.
Suddenly, Jane focused. She was thinking about something. If someone had noticed her in that moment, they would have thought she looked exactly like Mike.
She lifted her head and looked at Hopper.
Hopper felt her gaze, turned toward her and smiling.
Jane smiled back.
And slowly, she asked:
“Are you my grandpa too?”