Chapter Text
Mike is about to die.
Mike wishes he had known today would be the day he dies. He would’ve liked to say some goodbyes at least. But that’s the thing. When an eight-foot demogorgon comes lunging at you, chasing you into an alternate dimension, you never really see it coming.
His lungs are burning. It’s cold and dark, and everything is a blur around him. Vines stretch everywhere he can see, somehow snaking towards him, reaching out as if to grab at him. There’s an eerie fog making it harder for him to see where he’s going. Mike’s never actually been to the Upside Down before now, but he doesn’t have time to sightsee. Maybe if he were taking a leisurely stroll instead of running for his life, he’d be able to appreciate his surroundings more.
Mike has no idea where Dustin and Lucas went. If they have any sense of survival, they probably fled from the other demos that came after them when they all crashed through the gate.
When Mike scraped by with a C- in freshman gym, due to a dismal mile run time and an unenthusastic attitude towards participation, he thought the worst of his problems would be a slight ding to his GPA. As it so happens, Mike doomed himself by thinking he’d never need to run for anything in his life, let alone run for his life. Thanks to his predisposed hatred for physical activity, his chances of outrunning an interdimensional beast are slim to none.
The demo lets out a horrific noise, and Mike’s pounding heart nearly leaps out of his chest at how close it sounds. He chances a look backwards to confirm his fear, but in turning around again, he loses his footing on a particularly large vine in his path. At first, Mike feels like he’s falling in slow motion, wondering how all his life choices brought him to this exact moment. Then, just before impact, everything speeds up again, and his entire body slams to the ground.
Despite his shoulder making contact first, from the angle he falls, his head smacks the earth beneath him the hardest. Groaning, he tries to lift himself, but his vision swims and his head prickles with unimaginable pain. But he needs to move. He needs to get up. If he doesn’t, he’s about to be demogorgon dinner in an instant.
“Shit! Shit!”
He shakes his head and tries to push himself up. Swaying dangerously, Mike gets to his feet, nearly tumbling over again, and tries to scramble away. He looks back again–learning nothing from the first time around mere moments ago–and the demogorgon has slowed. It looks like a wolf stalking its prey. Mike wants to scream for help, or run again, or do anything. Instead, he feels entirely helpless.
Mike swallows roughly. He slowly backs away from the monster.
But then it’s too late.
Mike’s death is inevitable as the demogorgon opens its entire face, baring hundreds of rows of teeth, and leaps towards him. Mike screws his eyes shut and braces for impact, waiting for the pain to come.
And then, nothing.
Mike isn’t dead. Or maybe, he died so fast he didn’t feel anything? The only pain Mike feels is the prickling in his head from his fall. He keeps waiting, but nothing comes. No face-eating monster collides with his face.
He pokes open one eye cautiously. At the sight before him, Mike gasps. He stumbles backwards, tripping again, and falling to the ground.
The demogorgon, hungry and terrifying as ever, is frozen in midair. It is stuck in the same lunge, the one that was supposed to end in Mike’s untimely death, as if someone hit the pause button on a TV remote. And it just shouldn’t be possible.
There’s only one person Mike associates with the impossible. But, she’s supposed to be miles away and right-side-up. Mike furiously whips his head in every direction, his vision still spotty, searching desperately for any sight of her.
There’s a figure behind the demogorgon.
“El,” Mike breathes in relief.
It only lasts a moment. Any semblance of hope bubbling in his chest dies quickly. Despite the bandana tied around the figure’s face, the brown hair pulled back, and the outstretched hand, Mike realizes with dread pooling in his stomach that this is not El.
El does not have glowing white eyes. At least, last time Mike checked, she didn’t.
The figure approaches the frozen monster slowly, hand still outstretched, shaking with effort. Their clothes are dirty and disheveled. Mike spots a backpack slung over one of their shoulders and a rifle slung over the other. Despite their face being covered almost entirely, now with a closer look, Mike can see their eyebrows knit together, and their white eyes pinched in determination.
It is evident to Mike that the figure is controlling the demogorgon with powers akin to El’s. It’s uncanny.
Mike thinks he should be scared. A moment ago, as the demo descended on him, he’d never felt a more paralyzing fear in his life. For some reason, this is less scary. It’s just that El has saved his ass with her telekinetic powers more times than Mike can count, so this could probably be qualified as “in his comfort zone.” He’s done this before.
But, if this isn’t El–then who the hell is it?
Mike’s eyes snap back to the demo as it begins to lift higher into the air. The figure reaches another hand to the air, palm facing upward, as if reaching for something. Then, Mike watches in horror as each of the demo’s limbs twists painfully. In one swift movement, the figure clenches his fists and pulls his arms close to his chest. And then… SNAP! Mike winces and recoils as the demo’s limbs all snap backwards, and it crumples to the ground in a heap, dead in an instant.
He can barely breathe. “Wha-?”
Mike feels bile rise in his throat. From adrenaline, fear, and exhaustion, he can’t catch his breath. He screws his eyes shut and slumps fully onto his back on the ground. He presses his hands to his eyes, desperate to get the sight of the slaughtered demogorgon out of his mind.
He can hear loud, rushing footsteps approaching him, but Mike can’t move. The footsteps stop abruptly, and he can hear the rustling of clothes and the crunching of dirt as a figure crouches beside him.
As he’s lying there, heart pounding, hands over his face, Mike has a jarring epiphany. The way the demo’s body twisted… the gory snapping… Besides El, there is one more person–if you can even call him a person–that he’s seen levitate things with only their mind. And Mike just witnessed his signature limb-snapping move right before his own eyes.
He should definitely move now. He should run. Somehow, his entire body feels heavy as lead.
Mike just hopes Vecna kills him quickly.
“Are you hurt?” a voice comes from right beside him.
…What?
Mike moves his hands and slowly blinks his eyes open. For a beat, he just stares up at the thundering, red-glazed sky of the Upside Down above him. He tries to take a deep breath. Why is the air so goddamn thick down here? He tries again and counts. One. Two. Three. Then, cautiously, he tilts his head to peer at the figure beside him.
It’s a man. If his deep voice wasn’t enough of a hint, Mike can see his stature clearly now. His broad shoulders shift as he slips the backpack and the gun strapped over his shoulders. He sets them down, and his hand, the same one that shook with the force of his powers, hovers hesitantly over Mike’s side. It’s as if the man wants to reach out to him, to touch him, but isn’t sure how. His hands are shaking again, but Mike doesn’t feel any sort of intangible super-powered force around him.
Mike glances at his face and realizes the man’s eyes have changed. Instead of the milky white they were a moment ago, they are… brown. Normal. They’re just… eyes.
Really nice eyes, Mike thinks absentmindedly.
“I said, are you hurt?” The man repeats somewhat impatiently. “Where are your injuries?”
Mike lets out a groan as he moves, wincing at the pain pricking his head. He shifts his upper body weight to his elbows, propping himself up. “What?”
Because… what?
The man tugs the bandana down, unveiling his face. He wipes a hand beneath his nose, and Mike’s eyes freeze on the blood. Nosebleeds, he thinks. Just like El.
Mike has only heard stories about Vecna. Nancy described him as the most horrifying, disgusting person she’d ever seen. Eleven explained that he was once just a number in Hawkins Lab, like herself. In a sick way, El described him as her brother. In a quiet voice, Nancy described him as the embodiment of death and terror. She claimed that, with the rippling vines making up his skin, he was more monster than human.
To Mike, or at least to Mike’s current concussed brain, he looks entirely human. And he would never in a million years admit it to anyone else, but Mike wasn’t really expecting him to be so… attractive.
He hit his head harder than he thought. Either he’s delusional, or Vecna is disguising himself, and this is some sort of mind game.
Vecna also just saved his life and is asking if he’s hurt.
So… what?
“Did it hurt you?” The stranger sounds entirely annoyed now. “I don’t see blood.”
Mike can’t help but stare. This man… he looks like he’s just a kid. Mike doesn’t think he could be any older than eighteen by his appearance. His face looks sort of gaunt, but there is an inherent softness there as well. His hair is brown and messy, and it looks like it hasn’t been washed in a long time. A few strands of his hair fall across his face, and the hair that doesn’t quite reach where the rest is pulled back falls messily on his neck. It’s fairly long, but more than half of it is tied back- with a yellow scrunchie?
Maybe Mike really did die, and this is some sort of figment of his imagination.
“Uhhhhhh,” Mike says intelligently. “No? I mean, no. I just- fell. Hit my head.”
The stranger, who Mike is desperately hoping is not Vecna, looks at him strangely. His eyes dart across Mike’s face, and his eyebrows furrow together.
“Where did you come from?” The man- the boy demands. He glances around them, as if he might find a gate or portal that Mike magically appeared through. (It isn’t far off from the truth of how Mike and his friends accidentally ended up in the Upside Down.) “Are you military? You certainly don’t look like it…”
Mike’s face recoils in offense at the statement. He’s wearing a camo vest. He’s fully battle-ready. He could totally be military.
The boy just continues, “Why are you here? Who are you?”
Mike, feeling his soul settle back into his body, sits up fully and glares at the boy.
“Who are you?” Mike shoots back. “Are you Vecna?”
The boy’s face scrunches. “Who the hell is Vecna?”
Huh. Maybe it is Mike’s lucky day. But, he isn’t so easily convinced.
“Or- or Henry? One?”
“Henry?” The boy says in disbelief. “What? No!”
Despite the very likely chance that Vecna could just be manipulating his mind, Mike sags in relief. There’s just something about this boy… Mike feels a strange pull towards him in his chest. For some bizarre reason, Mike’s gut is telling him that he can trust this boy. He did save his life after all. That has to count for something.
Before Mike can ask who he is again, the boy stiffens. He looks up and into the distance. One of his hands flies so quickly to the back of his neck that it makes Mike flinch.
“We need to move.” The boy locks eyes with Mike. “Now.”
And before he knows it, the boy is grabbing his things, and Mike is being practically yanked back to his feet, much to his pounding head’s protest. The boy–whose name Mike still doesn’t know–pulls him by the arm with such strength and urgency that Mike feels like it could pop out of its socket. Still rather disoriented from the entire ordeal, and who this random teenager, who apparently has the same powers as El or Vecna, even is, or where he came from, or why he saved Mike.
He could be working with Vecna, a voice in Mike’s head tells him.
But why would he save me? Why kill a demogorgon? Another voice counters.
They’re in the woods, and Mike is stumbling at best, trying desperately not to step on any vines. The boy seems annoyed that Mike can barely keep up, but he doesn’t let go. He huffs and, over his shoulder, yells,
“Where are the others?”
“The others?”
Mike has no idea how he would even know that Mike wasn’t alone. “You were with two other people. Where are they?”
And, stupidly, Mike sort of wants to cry because he doesn’t know. Are Lucas and Dustin even still alive? Did the other demos-
Mike yelps as the boy yanks him in the opposite direction. He finally slows and comes to a stop by one of the tallest, largest trees Mike has ever seen. Though, because it’s the Upside Down, it’s barren and decaying. It looks like it could’ve been beautiful if it didn’t exist in this world.
“They’re alive,” the boy says, as if he can read Mike’s mind. “But I need to know where they are.”
“I-,” Mike clears his throat in an effort to still his wobbling voice. “I don’t know.”
The boy sighs. “How did you get here?”
Maybe it’s the blind trust he feels in his gut, or maybe it’s stupidity, but Mike feels compelled to tell the truth.
“A demogorgon. My- we- Well, we were on our way to regroup with our…” Mike isn’t sure how much he should share, god forbid this guy is with the military or something. “...team. Out of nowhere, a demogorgon opened a gate and came after us. We tried to dodge it, but it cornered us, so the only way out was through. My idea, it was… stupid…” Mike trails off. “It was never part of the plan. I fucked it all up.”
“Plan?”
Mike huffs in frustration. “Yeah, the plan. It was just supposed to be another Crawl. We were just trying to find-”
“Henry,” the boy adds helpfully. Mike blinks in surprise. “Or… what did you call him? Vec-something?”
“Vecna,” Mike offers softly, still surprised by the boy piecing things together so easily.
The boy shifts his weight awkwardly. He looks at Mike, but it sort of seems like he’s looking through Mike. He won’t make any eye contact, instead glancing around Mike’s face. He looks conflicted.
Mike, for some idiotic reason, reaches out instinctively. His arm feels as if it is in control of itself as it reaches out to- to what? Comfort this stranger?
The boy’s eyes dart to Mike's outstretched hand, and he flinches away. Mike draws backward instantly. “Sorry,” Mike murmurs softly.
Despite the awkwardness between them, the boy relaxes and shifts closer. He looks up and finally meets Mike’s gaze. Mike feels absolutely mesmerized by his warm, brown eyes. To Mike, they just look kind.
He’s losing it.
The boy breaks the silence with a soft voice. “I’m looking for him too. But he’s not here.”
Mike’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean he’s not here? Where the hell is he?”
Instead, the boy inspects him further. “If you aren’t with the military, are you with the police chief?”
Mike reels backwards at this. Hopper hasn’t been the police chief since 1985. How would this boy know about Hopper? And if he crossed paths with Hopper at some point down here, how the hell would he know he used to be a police officer?
“I’ve been watching him,” the boy explains, reading Mike’s expression. “Every so often, he comes to look for Henry.”
“Um, yeah,” with every passing moment, Mike gets more confused with this amalgamation of a person in front of him. “He’s… Hopper’s a friend… I guess?” It feels absolutely wrong for Mike to call Hopper a friend. He shudders at the thought, then questions the boy.
“How do you know Hopper? Have you talked to him?”
The boy shakes his head. Then, just like before, he stiffens, and his hand flies to the back of his neck. He looks completely zoned out, vision going to a place that Mike can’t follow. Then, his head snaps up.
“We need to keep moving,” is all the boy offers before tugging his banana back over his face and starting off again, heading deeper into the woods.
“You know, what, no. No.” Mike snaps, frustrated. He reaches and grabs onto the boy’s arm to stop him from moving any further. “I’m not going anywhere until I get some goddamn answers.”
At the touch, the boy yanks his arm away from Mike’s grasp violently. The boy scowls at him, but his expression drops suddenly. His face pales, and his entire demeanor shifts. When his attention returns to Mike, he looks… scared.
“I will give you answers, but we need to keep moving. It’s not safe.”
A chill runs down Mike’s spine at the urgency, and he relents. The boy doesn’t wait for him, and Mike has to jog to catch up with him. It’s not that he feels entirely safe with the stranger. It’s that the rifle strapped to the stranger’s back, as well as the telekinetic powers he displayed earlier, are a stronger defense than anything Mike’s got at the moment.
“Fine. But, where are we even going?”
“Lover’s Lake. There’s a small gate there that is usually deserted. And it’s far enough from the center of Hawkins that the military won’t notice you. You should be able to get through without any issues.”
A gate? How did the Party not know about an open gate? Mike was convinced that every inch of the rifts–the giant, miles-long gates that rip through the entire town–had been sealed by the military. But, if this boy is right, Mike can get out of here. He might actually make it out of the Upside Down alive.
“But-” Mike’s mind races. “What about Lucas and Dustin?”
The boy stops walking. Mike, not expecting an abrupt stop, pauses a few faces ahead, turning to look back at him. His expression is entirely unreadable.
“Lucas… and Dustin?”
“Uh, yeah. My friends. The others? It’s my fault they’re here. I have to get them out…”
The boy stares at him like he has multiple heads. Mike can’t see most of his face, but his expressive eyes and eyebrows give his emotions away. He looks caught off guard. Then, his eyebrows turn inward, and he looks away, as if contemplating Mike’s words. Mike hasn’t really said anything of note, so he doesn’t get why this guy is being so weird about everything.
Before Mike can say more, the boy is crossing the distance between them. He moves so suddenly that Mike instinctively braces for impact, just like with the demogorgon. Instead of an attack, the boy just plants himself directly in front of Mike. They’re so close that Mike inhales sharply.
The boy is tall, but not as tall as Mike. His wide brown eyes have to peer up through his eyelashes a little to inspect Mike’s face. Mike feels as if he’s under a microscope. Oddly, the boy is silent for far too long, just staring at him. His warm eyes bore into him, reaching for something past the surface, something deeper, but Mike can’t even begin to consider what he’s looking for. Mike nearly begins to squirm. Then, out of nowhere, the boy snatches Mike’s beanie from his head.
“Wha- hey!” Mike protests. His hands immediately fly to his head. He musses with his hair out of instinct, raking it down until his curls fall messily across his forehead. “Personal space much? What the hell was that?”
Mike scowls and glances back to the boy, who’s taken a few slow steps backwards.
The boy looks stunned. His mouth falls open a little, as if he is completely lost for words at the sight of Mike’s hat hair. Mike’s hair is a nightmare more often than not, and he knows his hat hair is even worse. He runs his hand through it again, hoping it isn’t sticking out on all sides.
Why do you care? A voice whispers in the back of his mind.
Between this thought, his crippling insecurities about his appearance, and the boy’s gaping, Mike balls his fists. He gears up to throw a dig at the guy’s bright yellow scrunchie, but he doesn’t get the chance.
“Oh my god,” the boy breathes.
Mike sort of wants to die. He can’t handle this boy’s eyes all over him. For some reason, his gaze is the most intense thing Mike has ever felt. So, to do anything to draw his attention away, Mike snaps,
“What? What is this?” Mike gestures wildly. He grabs his beanie–maybe a bit more forcefully than he should from someone who has superpowers–and shoves it back onto his head. “You still haven’t answered my question. How are my friends supposed to meet me at the gate?”
The boy blinks a few times, as if gathering himself. “They’ll meet us there,” he assures him cryptically, not explaining anything at all.
“That makes no sense! Like- what?” Mike throws his hands up, exasperated. He squints at the mysterious boy. “How do you know?”
The boy adjusts the rifle slung over his shoulder. He shifts past Mike quickly, as if trying to duck out of sight. From behind him, Mike sees him reach to wipe at his face with his jacket sleeve.
The boy gives no further explanation, and if the Upside Down wasn’t so eerily quiet between the sounds of thunder, Mike would’ve missed him mumbling under his breath.
“I just know.”