Chapter Text
The doors to the freight elevator slammed shut. It heaved and sputtered before it began to descend towards its destination. Dr. Owens hated the shrill screeching sound it made, but he didn’t design this facility, and he was no architect. No, he was a scientist, first and foremost.
Today was the day. He put aside his lingering dread and looked down at his watch. Ten minutes early, as always. It was the first day of the rest of his life, or whatever the quote was. Owens couldn’t be bothered to remember when the sounds the elevator made were reawakening his migraine. Finally, after what felt like a micro eternity, the elevator screeched to a halt and the doors dragged themselves open. He was greeted by an unfriendly face, though that was par for the course at Hawkins Lab.
“Welcome,” The woman in front of him said. She had a hardened face and malice behind her eyes, and she stood like a soldier. “You must be Dr. Sam Owens. My name is Dr. Winifred Kay, and I will be your superior on this new project.”
Owens had accepted his demotion since his stint the previous year, but the words still stung. But it would be different this time. “Nice to meet you. Have to say, I’ve read your file. Very interesting work.”
“I’ve read yours as well. I think we’ll make a formidable team.”
With Dr. Kay’s innovation and Owens’ experience, he had every reason to believe that they would get it right, this time.
“Let’s get this show on the road.”
Rain.
Lurching.
Searching.
Water.
Hurry. Hurry.
Searching.
Searching.
The tendrils of smoke ripped through the sky. They were fast, desperate. They needed to find a sensitive mind. The picture kept changing, the smoke was moving too fast, too frenzied, he couldn’t keep up. But he heard it. The same words, over and over again.
“We need to build it. We need to build it. Build it for her. Build it for her.”
Suddenly, the smoke stopped. He felt like he had just hit a brick wall. It had found its target.
He recognized that face. He had never liked it much, especially after hearing terrifying stories about it from his friends. He wanted to look away, to not see what the smoke was doing. But he knew with assurance that this face had been chosen. There was nowhere for him to run to, he just had to sit and watch what would happen.
Rain. Was it rain or was it…pool water?
The face belonged to Billy Hargrove.
Will lurched up, gasping for air. He was drenched in sweat from head to toe. He propped himself up onto his elbows while his head whipped around, trying to figure out where he was.
He was in his room. He was fine. It was just a bad dream.
Will sighed with relief and dropped back onto his back. He ignored the tingles on the back of his neck and told himself it was nothing.
Will tried to turn over and drift back to sleep, but his eyes kept flying open when he thought about his nightmare. It was no use. He was wide awake. He pulled his covers off and padded into the kitchen.
Jonathan and Joyce sat at the table, bills strewn around. Will sighed. Was that all they ever talked about? It felt like it sometimes.
“Okay, well, if we cut back on gas and I drop you off at the Post on my way to Melvald’s next month, I think we’ll have enough to pay off the utility bill,” Joyce said, pushing her glasses further up her nose, pen in hand. Her free hand reached out to pat Will as he walked by. “Or you could always get Nancy to drive you.”
Will made himself a bowl of cereal.
“No way, we live farther away from the Post than she does, I don’t see how that’s fair,” Jonathan said. His cheek rested against his fist. He had bags under his eyes and he was wearing a perpetual frown. Will wondered how long they’d been at this. It was only 7:30am. “But sure, I don’t mind driving with you.”
“Thanks, honey,” Joyce said. “I am so relieved you got that job at the Hawkins Post. I don’t know what we'd do without it.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jonathan said automatically. Will had heard this conversation a hundred times, so he imagined that Jonathan had had it a thousand more.
“How’d you sleep?” Joyce asked Will, taking off her glasses.
“Fine,” Will said, practiced. It was better if Joyce didn’t know how many nightmares Will had. He didn’t want her to worry. She had enough problems as it was.
“Honey, do you mind putting the magnets back on the fridge while you’re up?”
“Sure.”
Will pushed aside some of the bills and sat down at the table. His eyes landed on the uneaten toast still sitting on the table. Will heard rustling from down the hall, before Nancy Wheeler appeared in the doorway. Will felt his jaw drop all on its own. Her hair was styled and her makeup was on, unlike Jonathan who was still in his pajamas. Joyce looked up in surprise.
So Nancy had slept over.
“Jonathan, we have to go,” Nancy said, tapping the imaginary watch on her wrist. “Our shift starts at 8:00.”
Jonathan stood, in alarm. He rubbed the back of his neck and rocked on the balls of his feet towards Nancy and then back towards Joyce, his eyes quickly moving between them. Nancy’s eyes widened, her eyes also landing on Joyce. Will looked at his Mom, who relaxed in her chair.
“It’s fine, we’ll talk more when you get home, okay?” Joyce said. Jonathan gave a curt nod, before speeding down the hallway into his room. Joyce smiled at Nancy, who stood awkwardly in the hallway. “Want some breakfast, Nance?”
“I’m okay, thank you,” Nancy said, her cheeks turning pink. She averted her gaze. Will smirked and waved at Nancy. Jonathan was so busted.
Mike kept pulling away.
El sat with her back against the wall while Mike belted out the lyrics of a song she didn’t know. He got up from the bed to do an interpretive dance, which managed to wrangle a chuckle out of her. He was so silly sometimes. But El wasn’t feeling silly.
“Mike,” She prompted, her voice soft. She reached out her hand to grasp at his fingers, but suddenly his hand curled into a fist, and he was singing into it. “Mike!”
“What? My performance isn't good enough for you?” Mike asked, sitting down at the edge of the bed with a goofy smile on his face.
She tilted her head and gave him a pointed look. He crawled back over to her, but his energy had shifted. El bit her lip.
What was she doing wrong?
He leaned forward and kissed her once, quickly, before singing the next song lyric. She knew he was trying to make her laugh, but El felt a pit forming in her stomach. It had been like this all summer.
She would have to take the initiative, again. El leaned forward and grabbed Mike’s face, kissing him deeply. His hands fell limply at his sides, but he kissed her back. El felt relief blossom in her stomach. Finally.
“Hey!” Hopper’s voice erupted from the living room. “Hey! Keep the door open three inches! El!”
El panicked, pushing Mike away and slamming the door telepathically. Mike giggled and rushed to get off the bed, grabbing a comic book on the floor to get into position as they heard loud footsteps trudge towards the door.
“Hey, El! Open up!” Hopper shouted. He thrust the door open. El looked up at him, blinking at him in feigned confusion. Hopper sighed in indignation.
“What?” El asked, tilting her head.
“We were just reading,” Mike added, for support. Hopper took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders.
“It’s six o’clock. I seem to remember a certain someone saying he needed to be at the mall for six-thirty, or did you forget about that, too?” Hopper asked. He stared daggers at Mike.
“Shit!” Mike said, scrambling to his feet. Mike grabbed his backpack off the floor and bounded towards the door, disappearing for a moment before popping his head back in. “I’ll call you later, okay?” Then he was gone.
El heard the front door slam.
Hopper remained in the doorway, with his arms crossed. El sighed, turning her head to look at the wall.
“El.”
“We weren’t doing anything!” El started, throwing her hands up in the air.
“I’m not stupid. I could see you two,” Hopper said. His voice was tense, but he wasn’t shouting. He came to sit at the edge of El’s bed. “I’m not doing this to be mean. We have rules for a reason. I don’t want Mike getting any bright ideas while he’s under my roof. The door stays open three inches.”
“I said, we weren’t doing anything,” El repeated, her voice more resigned now. And they weren’t. That had been the longest kiss they’d had all night.
Mike reached the mall with only ten minutes to spare. He cast aside his bike, running for the entrance. He had been looking forward to the movie all day. He had practically been counting down the minutes, and he wasn’t about to miss it.
“Finally, Romeo appears,” Lucas said, clapping a hand on Mike’s back. Will, Lucas and Max had been waiting for him at the front entrance for who knows how long. Mike felt instantly guilty. He hated disappointing his friends.
“Sorry, I came as fast as I could,” Mike said.
“Yeah, I can tell from the sweat,” Lucas said, making a disgusted face and running a hand down his shorts.
“Were you too busy smooching to check the time?” Max asked and mimicked a kissy face. Will laughed. Mike rolled his eyes.
“Shut up,” Mike complained. Actually, he had been too busy doing a perfect Johnny Cash impression, but the teasing would be much worse if he admitted that.
“Will thinks it’s funny,” Lucas said.
“Will laughs at everything Max says,” Mike said. Will feigned shock. Max puffed out her chest in pride.
“That’s because I’m the funniest one here. Will has good taste,” Max retorted, sticking her tongue out at Mike. He rolled his eyes again. Though secretly, he was glad to be there. The four headed towards Scoops Ahoy, pushing ahead of the line to get to the front.
Robin Buckley, the cashier, raised an eyebrow when she saw the kids approaching. She recognized them instantly. Mike thought she was cool, definitely cooler than Steve. She didn’t even address them, instead turning her head to shout.
“Harrington, your children are here!”
Steve opened the shutters to the backroom, and sighed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” They were coming during his stock assessment. It was painfully busy. Mike rang the service bell again, giving Steve a challenging look. Steve groaned and ushered them into the backroom. He led them down the employees’ only hallway into the movie theater.
“This is the last time I’m doing this for you guys; you hear me?” Steve asked, propping a hand on his hip. He was bossy as ever.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Max said, dismissively, as the kids moved to take their seats. Steve retreated back to Scoops Ahoy, muttering to himself as he left. Mike was fond of their system. Even though Steve complained, he still sneaked them into any movie they wanted, whenever they wanted. Mike suspected that he secretly liked it when they showed up.
The movie began to roll, and Mike sunk into his seat. He was excited. He had been looking forward to Night of the Living Dead. He loved zombie movies. He loved horror in general. He was really starting to get into it when the tape began to sputter, and then, all of a sudden, the theatre went dark.
Mike panicked for a split second. He hated power outages. It brought back memories of a desolate Hawkins lab ravaged by Demodogs.
After about thirty seconds, the lights came back on, and Mike could let out a sigh of relief. He turned to look at Will. His muscles had tensed up. He was scratching the back of his neck. He wore an intense expression. Mike put a hand on his shoulder.
“You okay?” Mike asked. Will snapped out of it. He turned, giving Mike a curt nod.
“I’m fine.”
The welcome had gone poorly. So what? They had the rest of the day to make up for it.
Dustin seemed to think so, at least as he lugged machinery up the hill, the barest hint of July breeze aiding the Party in their quest to reach the top and assemble what had better work, Max had said, or else Dustin would be regretting ever coming back from camp.
“Just a little further, guys!” Dustin called back, smiling in the face of five incendiary groans that pursued him.
Lucas was still rubbing his eyes. He’d denied Will’s attempt to take him to the hospital, positive that it was nothing a little water couldn’t fix. The Henderson's sink was nothing compared to the emergency showers in Mr. Clarke’s classroom, which he’d let them pull on the last day of school, but it worked to keep Lucas’ eyes clean. Almost. He was still rubbing them.
“This radio better be good, Henderson, otherwise I’m knocking it over and leaving.” Max threatened.
“It is, I promise,” Dustin insisted once more. “I told you, only the best for our Party. Once our parents get a taste of this slick, superpowered, and might I add, safe, method of communication, they’re gonna be so sick of us always talking to each other from wherever in the country we may be.”
“Our parents are already sick of us, I think.” El said, nudging Mike on the arm.
Dustin rolled his eyes, setting down his things at the very apex of the hill. “Let’s get building.”
They attached spires and screwed in satellite pieces, not all of the pieces matching in color or shape, like a structure made from a LEGO scrap bin that just so happened to be able to send an ultra-powerful radio communication across the country.
“Does he even have a contact to call?” Lucas said quietly to Will as they plugged in the speaker box.
Will shrugged. “El’s right here.”
The tower went up at approximately 4:42 P.M., and Dustin made his first call at approximately 4:46 P.M.
“Are you getting anything?” Dustin called down the hill, where Mike was standing at the edge of the tree line.
“Yeah, I’m getting something, I’m standing a hundred and fifty feet away from you!” Mike yelled back. “We’d need to drive to Forest Hill to actually test this thing’s power!”
“Do you have the time to-” Dustin looked down at his friends, El covering her ears as he’d started screaming. He picked up the walkie and talked to Mike that way. “Do you have the time to drive to Forest Hill today, Mike? I’m giving you the best example I can.”
“I just don’t see why our regular walkie channels don’t still work.” Max pointed out. “We’ve been using them all semester.”
“They’re fine, but this is better,” Dustin explained, kneeling to reset as Mike trudged back up the hill. “Cerebro operates at just over two hundred kilohertz, which is super broad, only accessible to high power networks, and isn’t traceable by the police who probably haven’t updated their equipment since Hopper’s dad was chief.”
“That’s also higher than the lab operated at,” Will added. “And the military, I think.”
“Yeah, cause it’s illegal. Anything higher than a hundred and thirty seven, actually.” Mike pointed out, handing Dustin the radio.
“Do you wanna be able to talk to El safely or not?” Dustin asked bluntly. “We’ve fought monsters. I’m not worried about getting arrested for my radio. But none of you better snitch.”
“You lost me at gigabytes.” Max laid back in the grass next to El.
El beamed up at Dustin. “Thank you, Dustin. I think it is really cool.”
“Thank you, El,” Dustin replied, an air of confidence surging back into him. “At least someone appreciates the genius at work here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mike checked his watch. “C’mon, El. Gotta get you back before sundown.”
“What?!” Dustin exclaimed.
“I’m really sorry,” El took Mike’s hand and stood to her feet. She brushed grass off her pants and gave Dustin a quick hug. “Welcome back. And thank you for Cerebro. I’m excited to use it.”
Dustin watched them go, in utter awe at the display of carelessness for their friend. “Are they serious?”
“It’s been like this all summer.” Lucas commented, shrugging.
“I think it’s romantic,” Max added, leaning over to Lucas. “They lost so much time.”
Will rolled his eyes. “It’s gross. They never even hang out with us anymore. I can’t think of the last time we hung out with El after sundown.”
Watching them walk away, meeting eyes with Will, Dustin felt an all too familiar feeling creep up the back of his neck.
“Every breath you take…”
The song blared like an uncomfortable reminder of the government, the monsters, and, at this post-present moment, Hopper, breathing down the kids’ necks as they tried to dance and have fun with El, something they’d never thought themselves able to do before.
With Lucas and Max out on the floor, awkwardly clutching each other in the sea of hairsprayed kids, followed by Mike and El, Will and Dustin had been left as the odd men out in the group, sitting at the table and twiddling their thumbs.
“Well, we look like jackasses.” Dustin commented.
Will laughed. “You look like Steve. So, yeah, actually.”
“Hey!” Dustin patted down his perfectly coiffed mane. “I look cool, thank you very much.”
“Oh yeah? You can’t even ask Stacey to dance with you.” Will retorted.
“I don’t want to dance with Stacey.”
It came off a little more defensive than he’d hoped. Will followed Dustin’s gaze out to the dance floor, where he was staring at a girl, but it wasn’t Stacey.
Simultaneously, the boys let out a sigh, watching their friends dance with a simmer in their stomachs that they tried to keep pushed down below the neck.
The boys sat up as two girls approached- it was Nancy, actually, and another high school girl who’d also come as a volunteer, a cheerleader Will and Dustin vaguely recognized but had never actually met.
“Gentlemen,” Nancy curtsied. She nudged her classmate. “We were wondering if you might take us to the dance floor?”
Dustin and Will shared a look. As if an air of “eh, why not?” permeated them, they stood and walked with the high schoolers to the dance floor.
The other kids looked on in jealousy, whispering about “why are Nancy and Chrissy dancing with those nerds?” and laughing at how much shorter they were than the high schoolers. Dustin and Will tried to pay the denizens of their eighth grade class no mind, but did give Lucas, Max, El, and Mike thumbs up when they’d looked over to see what all the whispering was about.
“You know, out of all my brothers’ friends, you’ve always been my favorite.” Nancy leaned in and said.
“Really?” Dustin perked up.
“Yeah. Girls this age are…” Nancy looked in the distance, over at where her brother was dancing. “Naive. Sometimes. But give ‘em a few years and they’ll wise up. You’re gonna drive ‘em nuts.”
Snapped from his memory, Dustin was relegated to once again watching El and Mike walk away from him.
“This is bullshit,” he exclaimed. “I just got home.”
Jonathan’s car lurched to a stop outside of the Hawkins Post. Nancy put her mascara back into her bag. Her shoulders were tense. Her face was stuck in the perpetual frown she wore whenever they were at work. Nancy had been born tense, but the jokers at the Post turned her into a brick wall. Jonathan reached for Nancy’s shoulder. She jumped.
“Sorry,” Nancy said, putting a hand on her chest. “I’m just- “
“Stressed?” Jonathan supplied. He wished he could take all her anxiety away. He hated seeing her like this. “It’s okay. You’re gonna do great. Just remember how talented you are, and these guys' opinions don't matter.”
Nancy made a noise that indicated to Jonathan that he should stop talking. He looked forward, sighed silently, and turned off the car. So it was going to be another day like that.
They walked into the Hawkins Post.
As soon as Nancy stepped inside, she was bombarded with requests. It was suffocatingly clamorous. She watched Jonathan slink off into the red room without a single word. Lucky. Bruce was already whining in her ear about not having a coffee in front of him. Nancy put on a performative smile and made her way to the kitchen.
“Hey, Nancy!” Heather Holloway greeted her. Nancy relaxed a little bit. At least there was one friendly face around.
“Heather, hey,” Nancy said. She grabbed a cup from the cupboard. “Just visiting your Dad?”
“Yeah, he forgot his keys at home,” Heather said. “Then I figured I’d wait to say hi to you. Billy can handle the pool for an extra twenty.”
Nancy smiled. She was eternally grateful to Heather. Had it not been for her, Nancy would have never gotten justice for Barb.
Nancy and Jonathan had done most of the work. They had gathered evidence from the lab, had a recorded confession of the doctors admitting culpability and were ready to blow the story wide open. The only problem was that they didn’t have any connections. When Heather heard their edited story about what happened to Barb and listened to the tape recording, Heather had sent the story to the Indianapolis Star under her father’s name. Tom Holloway was the editor and chief of Hawkins Post. It gave them the credibility they needed to have the lab shut down for good. It helped that Heather had wanted justice for Barb, too. They had also been friends. But Heather hadn’t stopped there. She also recommended Nancy and Jonathan as interns to her Father at the Post. She wanted them to be able to write their own stories. That had been the intention, anyway. Not whatever menial task they had Nancy doing on the day to day.
“Well, hi,” Nancy smiled. Bruce yelled at her from two rooms over. His voice had turned into white noise at this point now that Nancy was used to it. She gripped the coffee cup tightly.
“Ignore him. He’s an idiot. No one actually takes him seriously. Not even Dad,” Heather reassured her. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. We know what Billy’s like when he blows his lid.”
“Oh-okay, well, it was nice to see you,” Nancy said as Heather walked towards the door. Heather turned back and smiled.
“Yeah, we’ve got to hang out outside of work sometime.” she said, heading out bouncily.
“Absolutely.”
Just one quick breath before Nancy headed back into the boardroom.
It was boiling hot when Billy got to the pool, just the way he liked it.
The sun had turned Billy’s skin a perfect shade of golden. It was days like this that brought him back to California. Well, not exactly. The sound of the kids screaming in the pool was grating. It wasn’t nearly as relaxing as the sound of crashing waves, but it was still the only place in that shithole of a town that Billy could stand to be.
Billy strutted towards his post to relieve Heather. He knew people were staring at him. That was the intention. He liked the attention he got. He instinctively flexed his muscles as he walked past the group of Mom’s that took their children to the pool every day. He was hoping to impress one Mom in particular.
Karen Wheeler, the hottest piece of ass in the state of Indiana.
Billy didn’t understand why all the other children his age would give scrawny, bitchy Nancy Wheeler a second look when her mom was right there. Billy never liked girls his age. They were loud, annoying, infantile – but Karen was smart, sensual, and best of all, a challenge.
He grimaced when he saw Erica Sinclair padding around the pool with Karen’s youngest daughter. He hated the Sinclairs. They were the worst part of Hawkins on top of all the other shit Billy hated. He hated the way Erica felt like she could talk to him. If he was in California, he’d wish that a wave would come and knock her out, but he was stuck in the mind numbingly idiotic town of Hawkins. He couldn’t wait to get out of there one day.
Billy watched in interest as Karen Wheeler slipped into the pool. God, the way she moved. She must have been doing it just for him. Billy smirked to himself, climbing down off his post. He grabbed her a towel and approached her as she climbed out.
“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler,” Billy said. He hated the childish way the name felt on his tongue. He sounded like a kid. He puffed out his chest. “Nice moves out there today.”
Karen blushed. “I’ve been practicing recently. I’ve wanted to get back into swimming for a while now.”
“Well, I don’t know if you know this, but I actually provide private lessons to a special clientele,” Billy smirked, chewing on a stick of gum.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you taught adults as well. That’s nice. But no, I don’t think I need any lessons,” Karen said, her face suddenly hardening. Reel ‘em back in, Billy.
“Oh, I think you do,” Billy said, taking a step closer to her. “I know all the styles. Butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke.”
Karen dropped her towel. “Oh, I-I don’t know. As nice as that sounds, I-”
“Mrs. Wheeler,” Billy whistled, grinning to himself when he saw how flustered she was. “Let’s say, ten o’clock tonight, at the motel outside of town. They have a pool there. And I assure you, that if you join me, I am going to give you the workout of your life.”
Karen stared up at him and smiled. That was all the confirmation he needed. Hook, line and sinker.
El’s yellow radio crackled with music as she pressed kisses into Mike’s smile, bouncing to the tunes and willing Mike to return the favor.
As of right now, he was giving a grand total of nothing. He made a muffled noise, willing his eyes to stay closed as El kissed him.
“...What’s wrong?” El asked, searching Mike’s eyes for some sort of answer.
Mike shrugged. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Weren’t we kissing?”
“I was kissing you,” El leaned back, stretching her legs. “You were not kissing back.”
“What?! El, that’s crazy.” Mike insisted. “I am totally kissing you back.”
“You are not, I could feel it.”
Mike frowned. “El. You are being crazy. C’mon-”
“I am not crazy.” El snapped. “You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to kiss me.”
Her shoulders slumped. Mike looked at her in disdain, but offered no response.
“What do you want, Mike?”
Outside the door, Hopper paced back and forth, the notebook paper he’d worked on with Joyce that morning soft in his hands from being folded and unfolded over and over again.
“What does that even mean? I thought you wanted to kiss me.”
“It is boring when kissing is the only thing we ever do, and you won’t even kiss me back.” El said, standing to pace around the room.
Mike made a face. “Well…yeah. We’re dating. What else would we do?” He didn't acknowledge the second part.
“Max and Lucas bake cookies and go skateboarding and watch movies together,” Eleven said. “You never bring movies. And you hate mine.”
“I do not! All I said was that Audrey Hepburn is boring. Which, in my defense, she is!” Mike exclaimed.
“Then why do you never want to watch movies? Or read comic books?” El questioned. Tears began to brim up in the corners of her eyes. “Why don’t you want to do anything with me, Mike?”
“Woah, woah, woah, hey-” Mike sat on the edge of the bed. “We do things, like- movies and stuff. You do that stuff with your friends, so we do it when we’re all together, right?”
El was still pouting, but allowed Mike to pull her in close. He did not seem to realize that it wasn’t all about the movies.
Mike stammered. “I guess- I guess I just wanted to make up for lost time, you know? Three hundred and fifty-three days is a long time to go without seeing each other. And it’s like, if we stop kissing, I’ll forget.”
“...Forget?”
“Forget that I have you,” Mike clarified. “That we have each other again, that we’re supposed to be in love.”
Mike kissed her this time. El kissed back.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hey, can we talk?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Here comes Lord Capulet.”
Not getting the reference, El sat next to Mike on the bed as Hopper entered, a lot more fidgety and nervous than the teenagers had expected him to be. He wiped a hand over his face and pulled over a chair, taking a seat across from El and Mike.
“So…” Hopper began.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, sir?” Mike said in a playful tone.
“I just- I just wanted to talk to you guys, um…” Hopper sniffled, unfolding the notebook paper and giving it a once-over. “I wanted to talk to you guys, and-”
“You’ve said that.”
Hopper glared at Mike, not even dignifying him with a response. He continued. “And create a dialogue, so that we can set some boundaries, so that we can all feel safe…a-and comfortable…”
Mike leaned over and whispered something in El’s ear. The two laughed.
Hopper placed the paper in his lap. His face shifted from anxiety to something darker. “Actually, you know what? This can wait. Your mom called.”
SLAM!
Mike hurriedly slid into the passenger seat of Hopper’s police van, clicking his seatbelt into place and pelting the police chief with questions as soon as he joined Mike on the driver’s side.
“Is everyone okay? What about our stuff?” Mike asked, his voice suddenly higher than when they had been inside the house. “What happened, was it a pipe or-?”
“Nothing!” Hopper finally exclaimed. “Nothing happened, your stupid basement is fine!”
Mike stewed. “...Oh, you lying piece of shit-”
Hopper clicked the lock down on the doors.
“What is wrong with you?!” Mike turned back. “What is your problem?!”
“My problem? My problem is that you have no respect. I have tried to play nice with you, kid, but eventually, I need to make a few things very clear.”
Mike folded his arms. “Yeah, because I clearly need a sermon right now.”
“Just listen to me for a goddamn second!” Hopper yelled. His eyes flickered over to the passenger seat as Mike suddenly flinched, curling in on himself. “...Listen, kid- uh, Mike.”
Mike was still. He dug his fingernails into his arms.
“I don’t mean to yell, it’s just- you have to understand where I’m coming from here.”
He expected something snarky in return. When he looked over at Mike, all he got was glaring.
“I am well aware that you care about El. I am,” Hopper began, slowly pacing his words. “I care about her too. And with that being said, I need to know what your intentions are with my daughter.”
“Intentions?”
“Yes, intentions, what do you intend, you-” Hopper stammered. “Didn’t you say you were in high school English, what’s this-”
“No, I know what the word means,” Mike cut him off. “I just don’t get what you mean. I intend to hang out with my girlfriend.”
Hopper’s eyes went wide. “Hang out? I barely hear you two speak to each other.”
Mike shrugged. “Well…I don’t really know what we’re supposed to talk about. We do all of our talking with the rest of the Party.”
It hit Hopper, suddenly, that he was, in fact, talking to a fourteen year old boy. Mike looked down at his twiddling thumbs and tried to avoid eye contact.
“It’s a little hard to learn how to date for the first time when your girlfriend is locked up like goddamn Rapunzel.”
“You think I want that for El?” Hopper asked sincerely. “Look at me, Mike. You think I don’t feel the same way you do when I see you little nightmares biking past the station, knowing there’s some bullshit reason she can’t be with you guys?”
Mike shrugged. “You’ve never said that before.”
“Yeah, I don’t make a habit of having in-depth conversations with kids that aren’t mine.” Hopper started his car. “Let’s get you home.”
The car ride was tense. Quiet. When they turned onto the Wheeler’s street, it was Hopper who started up the conversation.
“Maybe…maybe tomorrow, you, and the boys, and Max, you come over all together, hm?” Hopper pitched. “I’ll run by Family Video on the way back from work.”
Mike shook his head. “No thanks.”
“You sure?” Hopper watched Mike unbuckle and hop out of the car.
“I’m sure,” Mike slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Thanks for the ride.”
He ran to the door before Hopper had a chance to respond.
The sun was down. Cerebro had been left alone in favor of a pack of cards, Lucas scooping up his slapjack haul as the others groaned.
“You’re letting him win,” Dustin accused Will. “You’re not moving fast enough.”
“I’m trying!” Will shot back.
“Well, try harder!”
The group groaned as Lucas took another stack of cards. Max thrusted the one card in her hand to the ground, laying back on the grass. She splayed out her arms, knocking into Lucas and Will on either side of her. They instinctively grabbed her hands, swinging them back and forth until she pulled away, snickering.
“Boom! Take that, suckers!” Lucas cheered, collecting the last of the cards and assembling them to put back in the box.
Max stood, picking sticky pieces of grass off of her legs and extending a hand for Lucas to take. “C’mon, stalker. We’ve got an early date with Zaxxon tomorrow morning. You promised.”
“But of course,” Lucas rose to his feet, linking hands with Max and pressing a kiss into her cheek. “See you geeks tomorrow.”
“Thanks for showing us the power tower, Dustin!” Max said, waving behind her.
Dustin’s shoulders slumped. “We’ve been ditched. Again. I can’t believe it.”
Will wasn’t listening. He was watching Max and Lucas wistfully, wringing his hands together the same way he had when he saw them dancing at the Snow Ball.
“You okay?”
Will snapped out of his stupor, turning back to Dustin. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just late, I should probably get home.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Dustin said.
“But- but maybe tomorrow we can hang out. Play D&D, like we used to.” Will offered.
Dustin shrugged. “Maybe. Bye, Will.”
“Bye, Dustin!”
Will left. Dustin watched him go.
With a sigh, Dustin returned the microphone to his mouth. “El? Mike? You copy?”
Nothing. They must’ve turned in for the night. Dustin sat to place the cover over Cerebro’s motherboard, when it began to crackle with life.
“Solitude-”
“Because he could not-”
“Wounded beast-”
“Prisoner’s name-”
Dustin paused in awe. He considered saying something back, adjusting the satellite only to realize what a bad idea that would’ve been when the next transmission came through.
“Russia and summer never do well together.”
“Oh, shit.”
Dustin scrambled for something to write on, eventually producing a camp program shoved to the bottom of his backpack. With the clearer signal, he began to scribble down the words as they came through, hunched over himself for a considerable few minutes until the message began to repeat.
“Supposed to be in love?”
“Yeah. I do not know what it means.”
“I don’t either. To be fair, I don’t understand most things in the field of romance.”
Seeing her sister was her little thing. Hop never asked where she was looking when she used the big TV once a week to search farther than she usually does, just left her to her work. El was grateful for that.
The first time El had searched for Kali, she nearly had a heart attack upon realizing Kali could see her too. Sometimes people could sense her. Kali could see her, touch her. They’d started finding each other every so often, once El had the chance to apologize for leaving the way she did and Kali had assured El that she understood. Now, they talked. Every so often, at least. For all her suave, cool, punk-ness, Kali was surprisingly open to talking to El about what she was learning, and Kali, in return, would share (albeit heavily-censored) about what shenanigans her crew was getting up to now after Baby Jane came and shook up their whole dynamic.
El laughed. “You’ve never had…a boyfriend?”
“Uh…” Kali trailed off, leaning back. “Not- not a boyfriend, no.”
El shrugged. “I do not know if you need one. I do not know if I want one anymore.”
“Jane, you know exactly what I’m going to say to you.”
“I know,” El laughed. “But I don’t want to make him feel bad.”
Kali rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to say to break up. I am thinking it, though. I was going to say that you should spend time with other people. Didn’t you say there was a girl you are friends with?”
El’s eyes lit up. “Max? I could- but I am not sure. We only hang out when we are with the others.”
“Well, there’s your problem,” Kali pressed. “At least tell me you’ll think about it. I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want to have you as a friend.”
“Okay, your turn,” El leaned in. “What did you do when you went to Wis-con-sin?”
She sounded out every syllable in the word, making sure she said it right.
“Got into trouble, like we always do,” Kali said airily. “Nearly collapsed a building, but Dottie’s got a fun new scar on her face from it.”
“Oh, no!” El said, eyes wide. “Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah. Can’t say the same for the building.” Kali laughed. “One day, we’ll go on a trip that doesn’t end in property destruction.”
The visage of her sister began to fizzle. El looked around her.
“That must be my cue,” Kali scowled. “These men can be so petulant at times.”
“Petulant.” El repeated.
“Impatient, short-tempered, big huge babies,” Kali elaborated. “I could go on.”
“If you have to go, that is okay.”
Kali reached forward and took El’s arms in hers. “Promise me that you’ll have tried something new the next time we meet. Okay?”
“I will try, but I do not want to break Hop’s rules.” El said.
Kali quirked an eyebrow. “You know how we feel about rules in my house.”
El laughed, giving her sister a hug as the void dissipated and she found herself back in her living room, alone, and decided to pour herself and Hopper a glass of lemonade and pull up their favorite show on the TV as she waited for him to return.
Billy limped out toward the street, desperate to find whatever had caused him to go veering off the road. Noises fluttered in from every corner of his mind, beckoning him in every direction but…where?
Where was he trying to go?
“Who’s there?!”
He stumbled onto the road, staring down the undisturbed fog in the distance. Still, nothing.
Billy tried again. “Who is there?!”
Something wrapped around his leg.
He barely had time to scream before he was being dragged down into the steel mill.