Chapter Text
January 15, 1987.
𝑀𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒥. 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓇
𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝐼’𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒢𝑜𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐻𝑜𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓇
𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝑔𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝑀𝒶𝒾𝓃𝑒. 𝒲𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝒶 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁
𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃. 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝒽, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝑒
𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹— 𝒶 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝑒, 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝒻
𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔.
They were in the Byers residence. It was quiet, dusty, and cold, January weather had long since broken some windows. Of course, they’d boarded them back up.
It all began in December. Around Christmas gift-shopping time. If Mike remembered right,
December 3, 1986.
At least, that’s when it hit Hawkins. Only God knew where it all began.
Anyway, the group agreed to take turns writing in the journal… The journal was found on a previous supply run. That way logs could refresh their memories. Nancy proposed the idea before she and Hopper went on another run.
Dustin was right next to Mike, he was drawing an X over and over in the same spot on his calendar. He’d been keeping track since it all began. Mike guessed he was bored, too. Though, complaining about that would be useless.
Mike sighed, he pushed his head against the living room wall. He was sitting on the floor. Considering the couches were being used as beds, it felt a little weird to actually use them for their original purpose.
The smell of the soup Joyce was preparing hid the scent of dust and sweaty unshowered kids.
“Will, pass me that can, would you?” Mike heard her say.
Robin and Steve were playing Jenga, Mike flinched every time the pieces fell.
Suddenly the door burst open, snow flew inside with the figures. Hopper and Nancy were back.
Hopper dropped a duffel bag to the ground.
“Dammit,” He said, clearly irritated, “I don’t think we can stay here any longer.”
Nancy didn’t say anything.
“Hopper?” Joyce said, “another bad run?”
Hopper huffed before taking his gloves off to warm up his fingers. Mike doubted it did much anyway, the power had gone out. Then the water lines.
“I told you guys, we need to get out. And quick, we can’t waste any time.” Dustin said.
He was referring to Maine; their supposed plan. The adults had agreed they should go, but they’d been putting the journey off. Mike wasn’t sure how much longer they had. When they’d come over the radio broadcast, they’d said they were setting sail to Europe in March. It’d been a government organized ride, countries in Europe were supposed to be preparing a quarantine zone.
Mike wasn’t sure if they’d be true to their word and wait. If the place got overrun by walkers…well, Mike wouldn’t blame them if they’d left.
Two ships, setting sail at the same time.
“And I told you, kid, that the trip is long enough. We need to—“
“Need to what?” Yelled Max, cutting off Hopper and Dustin. “Because we’re wasting time. If Dustin is right and the walkers are just in the Americas right now, we could escape! But there isn’t a grantee that they’ll even be able to wait until March.”
“It’s dangerous. Listen, you’re not wrong. We need to go, hell, maybe even tomorrow— but you need to know the risks before we leave. Otherwise,” Hopper looked at everyone, “we won’t make it.”
“So, we are doing this? Leaving?” Said Joyce, worry crossed over her face.
“Joyce, they’re right. We can’t find anything out here by your house, walkers are everywhere in Hawkins. We could die either way, this is for the best.”
Joyce huffed, she looked like arguing but instead stormed off towards her shared room with Hopper.
It was all quiet again.
Everyone awkwardly went back to their original positions. Lucas and Holly came from the kitchen, Will soon followed after them.
Through the walls Hopper and Joyce argued.
“Hey,” said Nancy as she sat down beside Mike. Dustin noticed the need for privacy and got up to watch the Jenga match, “I got this for you.”
“Better not be another journal.”
“The journal isn’t just yours, it’s everyone’s. It’s just in your possession for today.”
Mike hummed and reached for Nancy’s closed palm. His eyes slightly widened.
“This is—“
“Moms locket. Yeah.”
Mike's face felt hot, but he’d cried too much for there to be any tears left. “That means you went back there.”
Mike opened the locket, dirty fingers caressed the image inside. It was of the Wheeler family, he hadn’t seen his parents since December.
Since they had died.
And since came back as walkers.
“We did, I got a bag of our clothes. Yours, mine, Holly’s. Hopper took some of mom and dads clothes. You can lend Dustin and Lucas some, too.”
A calm silence held out, before Mike asked the question. “Were they—“
His breath caught, shaking a bit.
Nancy breathed in a long breath. “They were. And I…did it. They’re– well, you know.”
Mike’s stomach hurt, his lungs felt stale. He would’ve broken down right there, but Holly came marching towards them.
Mike rubbed his temples, he saw Nancy wipe her eyes.
“Will taught me how to draw people from their sides.” She held out a sloppy drawing. Mike acknowledged it, Nancy gave her a high five.
Holly’s eyes were red and tired, all of theirs were. But it was worse when it was a ten year-old, his little sister.
Time passed, Joyce was back in the kitchen. This time, with the help of Steve, the two of them passed out bowls of soup. They sat in silence in the living room.
Will had swapped places with Nancy.
“A new necklace?” He noticed, he was always good at noticing. Artists always do.
“My moms. Nancy went there today, she…finally put them to rest, I guess.”
Will nodded. Mike knew he could relate, Jonathan had saved him on day one. He ended up getting trapped at the school, and when the group went back for him he had a note beside him and a hole to his brain.
Joyce cried for weeks, Will was quiet. Quieter, anyway.
“I wish we could’ve done it sooner.”
“I get it, I do, Mike.” Will sympathized.
A loud Clunk! echoed through the house, it was Hopper. He smacked a spoon against his bowl.
Everyone turned to face him, he sat next to Joyce. As always.
Steve, Robin, and Nancy were all around the window. Holly was in Nancy’s lap enjoying both their bowls of soup. Nancy always did that, even offering her bowl to Mike. He always refused.
Dustin leaned on the couch, Max and Lucas were sitting on opposite ends leaning against the arm rest. They both shared the couch at night.
“We’re leaving tomorrow, at sunrise. We have the car and the old Dodge RV. I’ll drive the RV, Joyce will have the car. We head for Maine.”
A few whispers of excitement filled the air, Max smiled at Lucas. He smiled back. Dustin grinned towards Steve and he bumped Robin's fist.
“We have rules– I have rules, let's go over them. For one thing, no stopping every five minutes for bathroom breaks. We’ll stop every two hours and that is it. Next, no guns. We will encounter walkers. But, you all have your weapons. Harrington has his metal bat, Nancy and Sinclair have their bows, Henderson his dagger…so on so forth. Use those, we can’t have every bastard in the vicinity coming towards us, and– Nancy– give the girl a knife. We can’t have anything bad happen.”
Nancy was hesitant but nodded, Holly looked excited.
“Good. Alright, finish up and go to sleep.”
Everyone murmured agreements.
Mike finished up and went to sleep.
He dreamt of his parents, well, his mom. He missed her. Mike wasn’t sure if this made him a terrible person– but he wasn’t as upset over his dads death, he’d always just…been there. But he was also not there. He showed up to every forced baseball game and Elementary school chess club but he’d never actually shown any interest in paying attention.
Mike’s mom, however, was the complete opposite. She was always there for him, like when he’d gotten into his first fight with shithead Troy and she’d spent hours holding him close.
This dream wasn’t much. But it was enough. His mom was screaming, just like she had that night. Her tears ruined her makeup and she yelled for the three kids to “Just run!”
Only this time, Mike couldn’t run. In his dream, Nancy and Holly ran. But he was frozen on the hardwood floors. His shoulders shivered and his eyes were fuzzy. The walker that once appeared as his dad was biting into his mom, instantly she shifted from a lovely lady into a horrendous monster. Mike screamed, he still didn’t move.
Eventually, the snarls calmed down. Mike’s heart descended back under a calm interval. That is, until they looked at him.
His skin crawled as the two faced him now, they lurked forward. Slowly but creepily. Mike flinched as they began melting, their eyes were first. They trailed down their cheeks like tears, mom’s eyes mixed with her mascara massacre.
Dad’s glasses rolled down his cheeks, it was like trees on a landslide.
Their heads caved in and turned into mushy pale goo. Mike woke with a silent and muffled scream. He panted as sweat trickled down his cold arms.
The dark was tinted blue, Mike’s eyes took a bit to adjust. The wind outside roared.
He got up and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed one of the water bottles from the many packs in the bottom cabinet.
He sipped on it a bit in the silence, his feet were cold against the floor. It reminded him of his dream.
Mike’s head snapped towards the door, a small sound of metal; the door chain. It rattled like a snake.
Someone– something was trying to get in.
Mike put the bottle down and began walking towards the living room, he stopped at the kitchen's doorway though. Mike peaked out the peeping hole on the door.
A boy. And he wasn't a walker, he was a– somewhat– healthy boy. He was a bit dirty, and not to mention wore a hospital gown. His hair was shaved.
Mike slowly opened the door, only enough to where the chain ended and he could peak out.
He whispered through the cold wind, “Who are you?”
Mike reached for his pocket knife, unsheathing it and displaying it between the door and the frame. Putting it between him and the other boy.
Looking down, Mike noticed the boy wasn’t wearing any shoes. His toes were purple and bloody. He looked around Mike’s age, sixteen to seventeen, maybe.
“Help.” It wasn’t a boy. It was a girl, and her voice was pleading. “Please.”
“I– what’s your name? Why are you…where did you come from?”
“Eleven. I am Eleven, I need help. They are trying to get me, I am the cure.”
The cure?
“What? That doesn’t make–” Mike shook his head. “Okay. Yeah, alright. Come in, quickly.”
He unlatched the chain and the girl made her way in.
Mike went to turn to lead her inside more, he heard a click.
It came from a gun. Nancy’s shotgun, the one she polished but barely used.
He turned and there was his sister, the sound must’ve woken others up. Lucas, Will, Hopper, and Max emerged at the doorway.
“Mike– What the hell!” She screamed. Whoever was still asleep had to be awake now.
“Nance– put it down! She– she needs help!” He yelled frantically, stumbling over words.
The girl didn’t seem phased. Mike wasn’t sure what was up with her, she was a bit odd. And what was she talking about, she is the cure?
“You let her in– Jesus, kid. Haven’t you seen any sort of horror movie!” Lucas butted in, he too now had a gun in hand.
“Okay, now that's a stretch. We haven’t seen shit! She’s– I’m helping her!”
“What if she was bit? She’s got no weapons.” Will pointed out.
“I am not bitten. I came from Hawkins laboratory, it isn’t far. It is a big building.”
“You mean the DOE facility? Department of Energy?” Hopper said with a raised bushy eyebrow.
“It’s a coverup. Nevermind, I am being pursued.”
“What? Pursued, we can’t house a fugitive!” Piped up Lucas. “I didn’t know the government was even intact enough to even have fugitives!”
“Wait, by the government? Those guys at the Department– at Hawkins lab?” Asked Mike.
“Bad men. They work for the government, yes. Military men. These aren’t the people who were at the lab though– no, the military men broke in and killed Pa– Dr. Brenner.”
“Dr. Brenner was killed by military men…because they were looking for you?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t believe this… these lies!” Shouted Nancy, “anyway, that’s even worse! I didn’t– we didn’t even know that there were even any survivors in the area.”
“It is true.” Eleven muttered.
“She said something about being the ‘cure,’” Mike looked towards the girl, “Is that why they’re after you?”
“They were developing a cure with my blood.”
The room went silent.
“Bullshit.” Max said. Though, her eyes were curious.
“I don’t want to be in the hands of Dr. Kay, she doesn’t have morals. My– Dr. Brenner fought for me to leave unscathed, he wants everyone to be safe, even me.”
Mike looked at her cut figure. “He didn’t do a good job.”
“I’m alive.” She hissed.
Nancy looked back to Hopper. He shrugged, she lowered the gun. She put a finger to Mike’s chest, “she is your problem, now.”
“Alright, kid, what’s your name?” Asked Hopper.
“Eleven.”
“The number?”
She looked down.
Hopper sighed, but it was soft. “Okay. Here’s what’ll happen, Mike you help her out. We are still leaving in the morning, so she can just…tag along I guess. Everyone, back to bed.”
“El, come on. I’ll…get you some clothes and,” Mike looked down, “definitely some socks.”
He ignored the annoyed glares as he grabbed Eleven’s wrist and dragged her out of the kitchen towards the bathroom.
She was in the bathroom with him, she sat on the bathtub. Mike was fumbling in the dark with the medkit.
A low orange glow lit the room up, Will was at the doorway. He had a candle in his hand.
“Do you have any family?” Asked Will.
Eleven nodded. “My mom was named Terry. I know that. She called me Jane, that was a long time ago.”
“Jane.” Will repeated. He smiled at her, then to Mike. “Get some rest, alright?”
Mike nodded, so did Eleven– Jane.
“Alright, I’ll patch up your feet. You can borrow my sister's old clothes, she won’t mind.”
“Your sister?”
“She was the one with the gun…”
“Nancy?” Said Jane. “She was pretty.”
“Eh– I guess.” Mike tried to not roll his eyes.
He slowly reached for her foot, she moved it closer to him. He wrapped it in bandages and put Holly’s extra pair of socks over her feet, they were the same size.
“Thank you. You are helping me, I’m glad. I haven’t– I was scared when they came.”
Mike looked up for a moment.
“You don’t need to be scared anymore. We will help you, we’re going to Maine.”
Jane raised a curious eyebrow.
Mike cleared his throat. “In the U.S, it’s up by New York on the map. In Maine there will be a boat, we’ll take it to Europe and be safe.”
“Safe.” Repeated Jane.
Mike smiled at her, unlike other kids her and Mike’s age, she was pretty understanding. Well, maybe she was reliant. She needed someone to guide her, almost. If she were right about the cure– about her being the cure– then that made her some kind of superhero. And right now she needed someone, Mike could be that someone.