Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dustin Henderson awoke suddenly, gasping as he shook off a vivid nightmare of a battle lost and his hometown looking like a quarantined warzone. He sat upright, pushing his hat up from where it had been covering his eyes, his heart racing. He could see in front of him a sea of old, ornate theater chairs; he smelled the heavy fabric of the vintage velvet against his back. The lighting was dim, like that in Victorian-era theaters, when electricity was new. The large stage in front of him was wooden, framed by massive red velvet curtains that were the standard in such places at the time. It also featured a white movie screen, as you can find in modern movie theaters.

Dustin shifted in his seat, feeling sore from lack of movement, as if he'd just woken from a long nap. A nagging irritability grated on his nerves. His last memory was of sitting in his room, working on a new version of Cerebro, a month after the incident at Star Court Mall. They had been fighting the Russians beneath Star Court Mall, who aimed to open a gate to the Upside Down in Hawkins. The Byers had left Hawkins for California, taking El with them after Chief Hopper’s death. He blinked through the faint light illuminating the room and, with a glance around the room, quickly realized he was not alone.

Several familiar and not-so-familiar faces sat nearby, each with a confused expression. It looked like half the town was in this room.

Mike Wheeler was visible, though something about his appearance seemed strange. He was sitting with his mother, who looked like she had gone a few rounds with Rocky Balboa, wearing something white. Nancy sat with them, her hair shorter than he had seen before. It was frizzy and unkept, looking as if she had curls now but couldn’t be bothered to take care of them. She was also dressed as if she had just come from work at the Hawkins Post.

Jonathan Byers sat next to Nancy, and if the dark glance he shot her meant anything, he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Jonathan also seems older somehow, tired? Dustin thought he should lay off the weed if it were making him look like that.

Lucas Sinclair appeared taller than usual, but that could just have been the hairstyle he was now sporting, which was different from the one he had last seen him in, and he wore a basketball uniform.

Max Mayfield had bright green eyes, was taking everything in, her fiery red hair resembling flames, and was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She held a skateboard close to her chest. Her stepbrother, Billy Hargrove, had a firm grip on her arm, appearing more frightened than evil, contrary to how Dustin remembered him, even if he had saved El’s life from the Mind Flayer.

Dustin could see many of the parents at the party, including his mom, sitting in the row behind him, who waved at him, and he waved back, but didn’t move towards her. As well as some younger kids scattered around the theater seats, some adults he didn’t know, and a few teenagers. Oh, and Mr. Clark was there too!

“Nancy, what is going on?” a tall, shapely girl with very short, dark, cherry-colored hair and glasses asked.

Nancy’s eyes widened at the sight of her, and she grabbed the girl into a hug, “Barb!”

So, Dustin thought, that must be Barb Holland. Wait? Wasn’t she…

Nearby, Erica Sinclair stood looking done with everything. She had changed her hairstyle since the last time he saw her at Star Court Mall, and a preteen girl in a blue dress with blonde pigtails looked familiar—like her name was just on the tip of his tongue…

“Holly!” Karen Wheeler yelled hoarsely, though the woman looked like hell, with badly bleached and permed hair, dressed as Dustin could now see, in a hospital gown with a bandage around her neck.

So, that’s who that is, Dustin thought. Something weird was going on, which was nothing new for Dustin or his friends. They would figure it out, then think of a plan.

“Mom!” Holly yelled back and ran over to Karen, throwing herself at her mother and wrapping her arms around the older woman tightly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t fight, but Mr…—”

Karen cut her off, “Shush! You survived!” Karen looked around and caught Joyce Byers' eye, “Is it over? Did the plan work? Did we win?”

“What?” Joyce asked, confused, as she fiddled with the long-sleeved shirt around her waist. She was standing with Murray Bauman, and next to Murray was a man with curly brown hair, who was speaking softly to Murray in what sounded like Russian.

“What plan?” She glanced at Hopper and Bob Newby and frowned.

Wait?

What?

Hopper? 

Dustin looked on, amazed. Chief Hopper was supposed to be dead! Where had his hair and beard gone? And why did he seem to weigh a hundred pounds less than before they woke up?

Dustin was confused. He wondered, 'Wait, wasn’t Bob supposed to be dead? And Barb Holland?' After everything he had seen, the idea of people returning from the dead wasn’t a top concern when facing creatures from another dimension.

“The plan to save Hawkins from that thing with the monsters! From that place…the…the Upside Down!” Karen said, intently.

“Mom! You know about the upside down?!” Mike and Nancy Wheeler asked in unison.

Karen nodded, “You two have so much explaining to do!” she scolded her children. They said, “Lucas, Robin, and Vickie took Max from the hospital to meet with you about fighting…” Karen frowned, “Oh, what did you call him, Mike… Ven, Venti… Verna…”

“VENCA!” Mike shouted, realizing the name his mother was searching for.

“You don’t have to shout, Michael.” Karen scolded, then truly looked at her son, “Mike! What happened to you?”

“What?” Mike asked, padding his chest, “There is nothing wrong with me!”

“You look the same age as Holly!” Karen exclaimed.

“Holly is six, Mom,” Nancy said, unbuttoning the brown coat she was wearing, revealing a purple dress with teal accents, the one she had been wearing at the battle of Star Court, yet it looked clean and untouched by that battle. Which Dustin knew was wrong because the older girl had complained for weeks about having to throw it away, as it was unsavable.

“This is Holly!” Karen said, shaking the blonde girl in her arms. Uh, no, Holly had been eight years old when Dustin had seen her, and that girl looked to be around eleven or twelve?

That's when the lights in the theater began to flicker, and El melted out of the shadows to stand by Mike, looking as she had when Dustin first met her with her shaved head, wearing a pink dress and Mike’s blue jacket. All of the Party knew that flickering lights meant trouble. As the flickering intensified, casting erratic shadows on the walls, and a low hum filled the air, vibrating through their bodies and sending a shiver down their spines.

“What’s happening?” Lucas shouted, his voice a mix of fear and concern.

Dustin squinted at the flickering lights, his heart racing as he tried to decipher what was happening. “I don’t know, but it usually means something is about to go down. We have to—”

Before he could complete his sentence, the lights suddenly went out completely. Darkness engulfed the theater, and a heavy silence filled the space. As panic set in, an eerie glow appeared on the large screen at the front. The blue light pulsed in a steady rhythm, casting ghostly shadows across the group's faces.

“Stay close,” El whispered, her voice steady despite the mounting tension. She smoothed the front of her pink dress, which once belonged to Nancy Wheeler. She extended her hand to Mike, who instinctively grabbed on, forming a small pairing of solidarity. Dustin had left his seat to join Mike and El; Lucas stayed near Max.

The theater's atmosphere shifted abruptly, tension filling the air as a red, pulsing gate began to open in the nearby wall on stage. A low growl reverberated through the room, resonating deep in their chests. The horrifying sound of a Demogorgon echoed, its presence unmistakable as it ripped through the fabric of their reality. Dustin's heart pounded as the monstrous figure stepped out of the swirling portal. Shadows flickered across the room, casting fearful expressions on his friends, the other kids, teens, and adults, all frozen in fear.

The Demogorgon fully appeared, its jagged teeth gleaming in the low light. Panic surged within the group, compelling them to run, but they stayed in their seats, mesmerized by the terrifying sight. Dustin's mind raced, aware that this was no mere movie scene; this was their reality, and the danger was real. The flickering lights in the theater cast eerie reflections in the creature’s eyes, amplifying their fear as the Demogorgon let out another chilling screech, shaking the walls around them. A sudden realization struck him— it was returning to threaten their lives again.

The Party knew they had to respond and fight, but they were weaponless, and every second brought a surge of dread, pushing them to the edge between standing to fight and fleeing. In the dim theater, fear filled the air as the horrifying Demogorgon appeared before them. Its sharp teeth gleamed in the flickering light, and its deep growl caused chills among everyone present.

Mike’s voice pierced the tension, sounding urgent and desperate, “El! Do something!” he yelled, his eyes wide with terror.

Eleven, or El as they all called her, felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She knew they had faced worse threats before, but this felt different, more potent. She believed in her abilities and her powers, and the safety of her friends now hinged on her. Without hesitation, she raised her hand, concentrating all her energy.

“Stay back!” she screamed, channeling her fear into a powerful wave of determination.

But as the sound escaped her lips, something unexpected happened. The Demogorgon, instead of recoiling, let out a deafening roar that rattled the theater's walls. El's heart sank as a dreadful realization dawned. Her powers were... “Not working!”

Panic surged through her as she felt the familiar warmth that usually enveloped her during moments of need fade away. The connection she had with the energy around her was slipping, and for the first time, she felt vulnerable.

“Mike, I can’t!” she shouted, her voice trembling with fear as she struggled to find her powers again. She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to accept defeat. The beast took a slow step towards them, a predator stalking them, one out for their blood.

“Everyone, get ready to run!” Dustin shouted, his voice steady amidst the chaos. “We can’t just sit here!”

Lucas grabbed Max’s hand, pulling her close. "We’ll get out together," he promised, trying to anchor her amidst the swirling panic. Max looked surprised and grateful. Billy glared at him but said nothing.

“Don’t panic, El!” Nancy urged, between shallow breaths. “You’ve faced worse. Just think—”

“Think of what?” El cried out, her frustrations boiling over. “What if I can’t?” But as the Demogorgon advanced, breathing heavily, El’s friends rallied around her, their unwavering belief igniting a spark within her. They were her friends, her support, and if they were going to stand against this creature, they needed her.

The Demogorgon lunged with its maw open, but suddenly screeched in pain and thrashed violently, then was flung back into the shadows of the stage. The atmosphere shifted into chaos as the audience gasped, their eyes wide with shock and horror.

Steve Harrington stepped out from the darkness, eyes blazing with fierce resolve. In one swift, smooth motion, he whirled the nail-studded bat, splattering dark, sticky fluid into the air.

“Steve!” and “Harrington!” rang out from voices around the room, a mix of awe and urgency clanging in the air like alarm bells. Without hesitation, Steve tightened his grip on the bat, raising it high above his head, muscles tense. He swung fiercely, landing another blow on the creature's snout, and the Demogorgon reeled back, growling in a mix of fury and pain. A hush fell across the theater for a brief moment—everyone holding their breath, hanging on a thread of hope.

The Demogorgon snarled, a low, guttural sound that made the hair on the back of everyone’s neck stand up. But just as it lunged again, Steve seized the moment, gritting his teeth as he wound up for yet another strike. He charged forward, swinging his bat with all his might. The crack of wood against the Demogorgon caused it to stumble back towards the red pulsing gate, but it wasn’t enough to send it through it.

“Will!” Steve yelled, his voice carrying over the frightened whispers of the crowd. “Now would be a good time to do your thing!”

When Will Byers emerged from the shadows on the theater stage, the mood changed. He appeared older and more mature, as if recent hardships had transformed him into a stronger person. His short, slightly tousled brown hair complemented the calm confidence he now exuded. Dustin squinted, trying to reconcile this new Will with the one he remembered. The shy boy, usually overwhelmed by the chaos, was gone. In his place stood a confident Will who seemed to know exactly who he was, and Dustin had to admit, it suited him.

Will looked over the crowd, and a brief flash of regret appeared when his eyes landed on Mike and Eleven. It passed quickly, replaced by precise determination. However, when he saw the two girls sitting together, a small, genuine smile broke through his serious expression. The teenage girl in the blue sailor's uniform, with short, light, dirty-blonde hair, her bright eyes and lively spirit, seemed to ignite something in him. Beside her, the scarlet-haired girl in the pink candy striper uniform radiated warmth and support, offering Will a nod of encouragement, as if to reassure him.

“Will!” Steve Harrington shouted, breaking the tension like a sudden clap of thunder. The entire room turned its attention to the stage, where the light flickered ominously in response.

Dustin gasped, the air catching in his throat as he watched the spectacle unfold before him. His heart raced, pounding against his ribs, at the sight unfolding before him.

At the sight of Will Byers, a look of intense focus etched across his face. He stood in the center of the theater, Will's eyes turned pure white, glowing with an otherworldly energy that sent chills through the room. It was a stark contrast to the terrified faces surrounding him. The presence of the Demogorgon was suffocating, yet there was a palpable shift in the air as if something powerful was about to happen.

With an intense focus and a sudden, commanding gesture, Will threw out a hand, palm up, his fingers curling toward himself in a way that felt both menacing and oddly regal.

"Obey your master!" Will hissed, his voice tinged with a strange echo, as if something darker was lurking beneath. His commanding tone sent shivers through Dustin. The room bristled with energy as the Demogorgon unnaturally moved toward him, seemingly under a spell. The Demogorgon, lurking at the stage's edge, reacted to Will's call and glided onto the stage as if pulled by an unseen force. It turned its head, teeth jagged and glistening ominously in the low light. Dustin's instincts urged him to run, but he was paralyzed, his eyes filled with fear and awe at Will's emerging power.

As if caught in a powerful tornado, the creature slid back toward Will, its fearsomeness thwarted by his will. The atmosphere grew charged, crackling with energy, as the group collectively held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Will's gaze remained locked on the beast as he pulled his arm back. With a jerky movement, the Demogorgon followed, unable to resist the compulsion gripping it.

Will directed an unseen force, controlling the Demogorgon like a puppet on strings. A heavy silence fell over the room, with awe and fear in everyone's eyes. Suddenly, Will quickly tossed his hand back, propelling the Demogorgon toward the glowing, red pulsating gate. The creature instinctively clutched the sides of the portal, claws scraping futilely against the edges as it fought its destiny. Tension grew in the scene, everyone holding their breath as the gigantic creature fought against Will's control, breaking free and lunging forward towards them again.

"Come on, Will!" Dustin urged, exchanging a fearful glance with Mike and Lucas, who had also come to realize the weight of the situation.

Will quickly extended his hand forward. "Back!" he ordered, causing the Demogorgon, despite its immense strength, to struggle as it was forced towards the ominous, red, pulsating gate behind it. The creature clawed at the edges of the dimensional rift once more, attempting to stop its progress, but the powerful energy pulling it was overwhelming, twisting its monstrous body in a bewildering display of obedience. Will's gaze remained fixed on the beast as he pulled his arm back, channeling an unseen force that guided the Demogorgon like a puppet on strings. A breathless silence filled the room; each pair of eyes filled with awe and dread. Then, in a swift motion, Will curled his fingers into a fist and pulled back his arm, sending the Demogorgon hurtling toward the ominous red pulsing gate. The creature instinctively grabbed the sides of the portal, its claws scraping against the edges once more in a futile attempt to resist its fate. The tension mounted in the theater, everyone holding their breath as the towering figure struggled against Will's command.

Will's dominance over the Demogorgon didn't last long; panic set in, and the creature thrashed around, desperately trying to break free from its invisible restraints.

“Go! Now Steve!” Will shouted, his frustration and desperation boiling over.

Seeing his chance, Steve reared back, muscles coiling like a spring, and with all his might, slammed the bat into the creature's chest. The impact reverberated through the room like a thunderclap, and the Demogorgon was sent flinging through the gate and into the depths of darkness beyond. For a fleeting moment, time stood still as everyone watched the creature vanish into the swirling chaos, its screech echoing like a fading nightmare.

The gate pulsed ominously for a moment longer before the red light flickered and dimmed, vanishing as though the portal itself was expiring. The audience released a collective exhale, a silence settling into a tentative relief.

Yet, Dustin’s heart still raced, the reality of their situation pressing down on him like a lead weight. Breathless, Dustin and his friends turned to Will, who slowly regained his composure, the whiteness in his eyes dissipating like fog in sunlight. He reached up and wiped away the trickle of blood that ran from his nose with the back of his hand.

“What just happened?” Lucas whispered, wide-eyed.

Dustin’s thoughts raced as he processed what he had just witnessed. “Will, that was amazing! You just… commanded it! Like a Wizard. Like Will the Wise!”

"No! Like a Sorcerer! You did it, Will!" Mike exclaimed, relief flooding his voice, as the frantic energy in the theater ebbed away. He gazed at Will much in the same way he had when El had used her powers in front of him the first time.

Will glanced around at his friends, the unsteady remnants of fear still clinging to their expressions. Despite the action he had taken, a shadow of uncertainty loomed in his eyes.

Joyce rushed forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Will. The boy looked more like an older teenager than the thirteen-year-old she had last seen; a mother knew her son. He hugged her back, “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she whispered, a tremor in her voice.

Will nodded.

“You need to be careful, Will. That kind of power can be dangerous,” she warned, her voice full of pride but trepidation still trembling from the sudden chaos.

“You okay, kid?” Steve asked as he walked up to Will.

Will smiled at Steve and nodded.

Dustin blinked as he looked at Steve. He looked a little older and was dressed in jeans, a black shirt, and a jean jacket that he was sure he had seen before, but was sure Steve didn’t own. But mostly it was the other boy’s hair that caught Dustin’s attention. It was much longer than it had been the last time he had seen Steve. It fell past his shoulders and was pulled up in a half ponytail, with pieces falling artfully around his face.

Which, along with dead people and people being older or younger than they should be, gave Dustin, “I’m having a thought…”, the other party members turned to look at him.

“That’s a dangerous past time,” Steve said with a teasing smile.

Dustin smirked back. This was why Steve was his best friend; he always had a quip ready, “and now I have a theory.”

“You going to share with the rest of the class, dust bunny?” Will asked with a small but bright smile.

It caused Dustin to lose his train of thought because, oh, he’s so pretty! When did that happen… Until Steve flicked him hard on the forehead, and Dustin blinked dumbly at Steve.

“You back with us?” Steve asked him, a smirk on his lips.

“Uh, what were we talking about again?” Dustin asked, dazed.

“Your theory,” Steve said, amusement coating his tone.

“Right,” Dustin said with a nod of his head, “Okay, so I think we are all from the same reality but different places in the timeline?” Dustin said, the gears in his mind already shifting to make sense of their bizarre situation. Their surroundings felt eerily gothic, reminiscent of an old theater lost in time. Elaborate moldings in dark wood framed the tall walls, and the flicker of candlelight danced shadows across the archaic decor. But it was the enormous movie screen towering at the center of the stage that captured Dustin's attention. He had noticed it before, but now it flickered with an otherworldly glow, casting a bluish hue over the room as though it were alive.

“It would explain why we are all different ages and remember different things,” Mike replied, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. His gaze swept across the faces of his friends, each reflecting a different time and experience, but all bound by the same crucial events in their lives.

Suddenly, the lights in the theater dimmed but didn’t flicker as they did in a movie theater when the movie was about to start.

“Mike? Lucas?” Dustin whispered, his voice barely breaking the silence, their expressions equally bewildered. Before he could call out again, the screen blazed to life, illuminating the group's faces with a black screen and the red lines of what looked like the opening credits of a movie, then the lines froze.

“What the...?” Lucas murmured, finally breaking the spell of silence.

The black-and-red screen flickered ominously, shadows dancing chaotically across the room before it suddenly shifted and started to rip apart. The audience, initially mesmerized, now held their breath as a tear in reality opened, revealing a swirling dark vortex. Without hesitation, a silhouette confidently stepped through the opening, and the rift closed behind him with a quiet, eerie snap. The man stood tall, dressed in a sharply tailored brown suit reminiscent of the 1950s era. His bright blonde hair almost shone in the low light, and even his glasses could not hide the striking attractiveness of his features. He paused to survey the crowd, his eyes shimmering with mischief and charm. A smile slowly appeared on his lips, and a collective shiver ran through the audience.

“Mr. Whatsit!” Holly exclaimed, her blue eyes lighting up in excitement. She seemed completely unbothered by the tension in the air, her youthful joy a stark contrast to the unease that encompassed the others.

However, the atmosphere shifted as Steve and Will let out simultaneous low growls, their expressions hardening as they locked eyes on the man. “Henry,” they growled in unison, the weight of recognition heavy in their voices.

“Vecna,” Jonathan Byers’s softer, yet tense voice cut through the atmosphere as he hissed the name of their foe.

 El, standing beside him, whispered a single word that echoed with foreboding: “One.”

As the realization sank in, the camaraderie built over years of battling nightmares and monsters echoed through the air. The figure before them was not an innocent stranger; he was a fragment of their darkest memories, brought forth from the depths of the Upside Down, a reminder of the chaos they had fought to contain.

“Ah, my friends!” Henry’s voice was smooth, oozing with false sincerity as he surveyed each face in the audience. “It’s been quite some time. I’ve missed you all dearly.” His words dripped with a velvety charm, but the underlying menace was unmistakable.

Holly, blissfully unaware of the danger, took an innocent step closer. “Are you going to play with us now, Mr. Whatsit? Can we go on an adventure as you promised?”

“An adventure?” Henry echoed, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Oh, Holly, sweet girl. I have adventures planned for all of you. And that dress! I knew it would be perfect for you!”

Holly gave a curtsey.

Mike moved instinctively closer to Holly, pulling El with him, his eyes darting around for possible escape routes, adrenaline coursing through their veins.

“You’re not welcome here, Henry. This isn’t your world anymore,” Will barked defiantly.

The air crackled with tension, and Henry merely chuckled, unfazed by their threats. “Is that so? You’re still so naïve, William, my pet. Reality is often more pliable than you think. I never wanted anything more than the safety of my friends.”

“Not your pet,” Will hissed, his expression dark.

“Who would want to be your friend?” Steve muttered, lowly, yet Henry heard him.

“Ah, Steven, you are looking,” Henry paused and slowly raked his eyes over the younger man, “as gorgeous as ever.”

Steve shuddered, then stiffened his back, “Flirting will not get you out of this,” he pointed his bat at Henry and asked, “Did you do this?”

“Do what, Steven?” Henry asked with a motion of his hands, his tone so cool butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“Did you bring us here?” Steve asked, waving his hand around, motioning to the walls of the theater.

“Oh, no, my dear,” Henry simpered, “I am afraid that is beyond my abilities. Even I must adhere to a higher power.”

“Why are we here, Henry?” Will asked.

“To learn, of course.”

“Learn, what?” Hopper said. Henry’s eyes slide to Hopper, then past him. “I asked you a question!” Hopper demanded in his chief-of-police tone.

Henry sighed, “Everything.”

“Everything what?” El asked flatly.

Henry gave El a long look, then turned to Steve and Will, “Everything you’ve been fighting for the past seven years. Everything you can use to defeat it this time.”

“This time?” Joyce asked.

“We lost, didn’t we?” Nancy said. She looked at Steve and Will; neither could look her in the eyes.

It was Henry who answered her, almost gleefully, “No, you won but also lost.” Then he sighed at their confused looks.

Because how could you win but also lose?

“The powers that be didn’t like that outcome. So here we are.” He clapped his hands, “Now take your seats, the show will begin soon.” He walked across the stage and down the steps. Steve and Will followed him.

“You may sit next to me, my boys,” Henry said to Steve and Will, turning to face them, holding a remote control.

Steve and Will exchanged a look, and Steve hefted up his bat, “You aren’t invited to the screening, Henry.”

“VIP only.” Will smirked at the blonde man, “I’m sure you understand.”

Henry looked between, but warily eyed Steve’s nail bat, “You can’t hurt me here. It’s against the rules. None of you can,” he said smugly.

Steve wondered what he was going to do about Henry when Dustin’s voice rang out from a room off to the side of the main theater. Dustin, who had seen a few doorways and wandered inside one, said, “Hey, I found some rope and duct tape!”

The smile Steve gave Henry was a mean one. Henry’s confident expression fell, and he took a step back and said, “You’re not serious?!”

“And that is why Henerson is the best,” Steve said.

Once they had Henry tied up in a chair off to the side of the stage, but where he could still see the screen. Will tightened the ropes and checked the knots one more time.

“Wherever did you learn to tie a Constrictor knot, my pet?” Henry asked, “You were never in the Boy Scouts.”

“No,” Will agreed, “but my boyfriend was for a couple of years. Then he became more interested in science. He taught me.”

Henry pouted at that, and Will straightened and wandered over to where Steve was sitting, but before he got there, he heard, “El!” Will looked over to see Mike sitting with his family and El, along with Hopper and his mom. Will regretted wasting so much of his heart on Mike Wheeler, so much so that he almost missed out on the great guy who became his boyfriend. Will shook his head, then saw Dustin standing, looking confused about where to sit. Will walked over to him and grabbed his wrist,

“Sit with me,” Will told him.

Dustin gave him a wide-eyed look, “Are you…if you… uh, okay?”

Will lead Dustin over to a seat next to Steve, who was looking at the remote control that he had gotten from Henry. Will could see that it had two buttons: play and pause. Will was about to ask if they should start when Will turned to see Billy Hargrove sauntering up to Steve.

Billy was confused and, not going to lie, scared shitless about what was going on. The last thing he remembered was that he had been on his way to meet Karen Wheeler when some freaky, slimy vines pulled him into the old Brimborn Steel Works factory. He glanced over to where Karen was; she looked nothing like the poolside cougar that used to make eyes at him. She had really let herself go. She was seriously not worth his time now. Billy got sight of Harrington; he’s not sure what is going on now, but he isn’t surprised to see King Steve in the middle of it. He licked his lips. Maybe Harrington would be worth his time? The guy was so pretty it was criminal. Billy strolled over to him, calling out, “Harrington, is that you?”

Steve rolled his eyes at the sound of Billy’s voice. “Yeah, it’s me,” Steve said in the most deadpan, over-it-all tone anyone had ever heard him use. “Don’t cream your pants.”

Billy sat down next to Steve and gave him a smarmy smile.

“Oh, Mr. Hargrove, I wouldn’t sit there if I were you,” Henry called out, amused at Billy’s actions. He knew what was going to happen next.

Then came from across the theater, “Don’t touch me!” All eyes but Steve’s turned to the voice, to see Jonathan Byers yanking his arm away from Nancy Wheeler.

“You are my boyfriend, Jonathan! You are supposed to sit with me!” Nancy exclaimed as Barb Holland tried to calm her down.

“Nancy, I haven’t been your boyfriend in a long time.” Jonathan snarled at her. Then he stomped across the theater over to where Steve sat. Jnathan glared at Hargrove. “You’re in my seat.”

Billy smirked and threw his arm behind Steve and spread his legs, sitting low in the seat, “Don’t see your name on it, Byers.” Implying ownership of more than the seat, “Go back to the small-town princess, creep.”

Jonathan nodded almost agreeably.

“That was a bad idea,” Will muttered to Dustin, who looked confused about what was going on between the older boys.

Quicker than Dustin could follow, Jonathan grabbed Billy by the front of his shirt, pulling him out of the seat and tossing him across the aisle. Billy rolled to his feet and came back at Jonathan, but Jonathan snatched up Steve’s nail bat, which had been leaning on the seat next to Steve. The sight of it brought Billy up short. He looked at the bat, then at Jonathan, and weighed whether or not sitting next to Harrington was worth the battle.

It was Steve who chose for Billy when he said, “Hargrove, go sit next to your sister and Lucas. And behave when you do. Because if this shows everything?” Steve pointed at the screen, “You won’t come out looking so good.”

Billy muttered a curse under his breath, then stomped over to where Max and Lucas were, and he threw himself into a seat next to his sister.

As Jonathan sat down next to Steve, Steve looked over at Henry, “How long is this going to take?”

“It will end when it is done,” Henry said, primly.

“Unlike you, Henry, we are human. We need to eat, drink, sleep, and use the restroom. We will grow old.” Will said.

Henry sighed, “This place is beyond time as you know it. You will return to the moment you were taken from. As for the human,” he grimaced, “things, it will be provided for.”

“That’s great, Henry.” Steve muttered, “But how long will this be before we can do those human things?”

“What you see will be shown to you in sixty-minute pieces, and in eight to ten parts, over five to seven seasons,” Henry said.

“Seasons? Like a TV show?” Dustin asked.

Henry nodded.

“Right then,” Steve muttered, then stood up, “last call for restroom break or snack run! Go now!”

“And where would those be?” A male voice called out.

Lucas leaned over his seat and rolled his eyes as he said, “Probably where the big signs that say, RESTROOMS or SNACK BAR in big red and black letters, Carver.”

“Oh,” Jason Carver said in a small voice.

“How would he know, Sinclair? It’s not like Carver can read!” Eddie Munson called out.

“Shut up, Freak!” Jason yelled, stood up from his seat, and turned to face Munson.

Eddie Munson was sprawled in the theater seat, his dark hair wild, his eyes dark, as he said, “Make me.”

“You should be dead, you devil worshiper?” Jason asked as he started toward the metal head, but was brought up short by the grip his girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham, had on his letterman’s jacket.

“Sit down and shut up,” Chrissy said firmly, giving Jason’s jacket a hard yank, causing the boy to stumble back into his seat.

“What did you say?” Jason asked, shocked that she would talk to him this way.

“You will leave Eddie alone.” She demanded, turning in her seat and waving, “Hi, Eddie! Come sit with us, please!”

Eddie smiled and waved back, shooting Jason a smug look as he got up, walked over, and dropped down in the seat on the other side of Chrissy. Jason opened his mouth, but Chrissy elbowed him in the side and hissed, “Don’t you dare ruin this for us!”

Jason closed his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest with a huff, wondering when his girlfriend had decided she wanted to be friends with the metal head. The least she could have done was ask his opinion about it. Not that he would put much of a fuss for her sake. He was just wondering what was going through Chrissy’s head.

“You have fifteen minutes!” Steve shouted, “Then we are starting!”  

People bolted out of their seats. Going to both the restrooms and the snack bar. Will, Dustin, and Johnathan did the same, while Steve stayed behind to watch over Henry. When they came back with their snacks, Steve left to do the same, Will watching over Henry this time.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was back in their seats. The lights dimmed some more, and Steve aimed the remote at the screen and hit play. They watched the black screen filled with more red lines, and music played, a pulsing synthwave beat. They watched as the red lines came together to form letters spelling out:

STRANGER THINGS.

Chapter Text

October 1, 1943. Middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Under the cover of night in the Pacific Ocean, the battleship USS Eldridge lay at anchor, the stars sparkling like diamonds against velvet. The air was thick with salt, hints of oil, and metal. A gentle swell rocked the ship, adding to the peaceful, nearly surreal mood that contrasted with the ongoing war. Captain David Brenner stood on the bridge, staring out into the endless expanse of water. The soft hum of the engines was a comfort, but it couldn't quiet the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. Much had changed since his enlistment. When he first signed up for the Navy, he had imagined himself in glorious battles, defending the nation. Now he found himself entangled in something far beyond his initial understanding—a mysterious endeavor known only as Project Rainbow.

The whispered rumors among the crew had piqued his curiosity. Some said it was a top-secret experiment involving invisibility technology, while others believed it involved time travel. Captain Brenner couldn't help but feel a mix of intrigue and dread as he considered the implications. He had joined the Navy to serve his country, not to be part of an experiment that could tilt the balance of reality itself.

His first officer, Lieutenant Joe Matthews, finally broke the silence, stepping up beside him. “Sir, everything is in order. The crew seems to be settling in well. They’ll be ready for whatever comes next.”

Brenner nodded absently, still staring out at the stars. “Do you ever wonder if we’re in over our heads, Joe? This project… it feels like we’re playing with forces we don’t fully understand.”

Lieutenant Matthews leaned against the rail, looking out into the darkness. “We’re soldiers, Captain. We follow orders. If the brass believes this is the way to win the war, we have to trust them.”

“Trust,” Brenner echoed, the word heavy on his lips. Trust was a currency that felt increasingly in short supply. He remembered the faces of the men under his command, brave young souls who had signed up with dreams of valor and honor. Were they meant to become pawns in a game he couldn't fathom?

As they stood in silence, a sudden vibration rippled through the ship, breaking the tranquility of the night. Brenner turned sharply, instincts kicking in. “What was that?” he demanded.

 “I’m not sure, sir,” Matthews replied, frowning as he glanced at the gauges and controls. “It feels like we’ve hit a current… but it shouldn’t be this strong out here.” Then he shook his head, “We’ve hit a rough patch. We might have to delay—”

“We continue, Lieutenant,” Brenner said.

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Brenner patted Lieutenant Matthews on the shoulder, then made his way to the control room. The experiment will start in ten minutes. As the captain left the room, a male voice came over the radio, describing the weather conditions and ending with, "It's a good day to play with quantum wave theory."

**

“Mother Fucker!” Dustin exclaimed, “The Philadelphia Experiment was true! I knew that the science in the movie was making too much sense!”

“Language, Dusty!” Claudia yelled at her son from her seat a row behind him.

Dustin turned in his seat, “Sorry, Mom!”

**

Captain Brenner stepped into the control room to hear his commander say,

“Captain on deck!”

“As you were, Commander Johnson. Status report!”

“The wind is fair, and so are the following seas.”

Brenner frowned. Could the sea have quieted between the time he left Lieutenant Matthews and his arrival here? That didn’t make sense. But it wasn’t his responsibility to understand why the ocean had calmed; his task was to start the experiment.

“Here we go, boys!” Brenner said.

“Do you think this will really work, sir?” Commander Johnson asked.

“Do I think eighteen tons of magnets and generators are going to turn this ship invisible?” Brenner rolled his eyes, “No.”

“But if it worked, it would win the war, sir.” Commander Johnson said.

“Yeah,” Brenner muttered, “It would win all the god damned wars.”

“Well, isn’t that what we signed up for, sir?”

“What I signed up for was to kill shit and get paid, Commander.” Brenner walked over, picked up the radio, and pressed a button…

**

The soldiers gathered in the cramped quarters of the USS Eldridge, their faces a mixture of determination and anxiety. Each member of the team performed last-minute checks on their gear, ensuring that everything was secure and in place. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as they exchanged glances, knowing that they were about to participate in something unprecedented.

“Alright, everyone, this is it,” the sergeant called out, rallying the troops. “Remember your training and stay focused. Once the clock hits zero, we stick to the plan.”

As the countdown ticked down, a sense of urgency permeated the air. The soldiers adjusted their uniforms and began to form a circle, hands clasped together for solidarity. Some whispered encouragement to each other, while others nodded, steeling themselves for what lay ahead.

With less than a minute remaining, the hum of the ship’s systems became more pronounced, reinforcing the gravity of the moment. They had trained for this, but the unknown still loomed large. With the communication device pulsing to life, the announcement came through again,

“USS Eldridge to Base Markee, we are t-minus thirty seconds until initiation. Over.”

**

“Camera one is a go!” One soldier at the bow of the ship said into a radio

**

“Camera two is a go!” Said another soldier at the stern of the ship.

**

“Camera three is a go!” Said the soldier at starboard.

**

“Camera four is a go!” Said the soldier at the port of the ship.

**

“All cameras are a go!” A soldier called out, over his radio, “We are waiting for your countdown, Captain.”

**

In the control room, Commander Johnson pressed a few buttons on the control board in front of him. He looked at Captain Brenner, who nodded, then said into his radio, “We are a go on deck!”

“Copy!” came over the radio.

Captain Brenner sighed and touched the button on his radio, “Project Rainbow, waiting countdown, Base Markee.”

Over Brenner’s radio came the reply of, “Project Rainbow, Initiating countdown. Ten…nine…eight…”

**

The soldiers took their positions, hearts racing as the final countdown began. They glanced at each other—their fates intertwined in this unprecedented experiment. The moment was finally upon them, and as the clock ticked down to zero, they braced themselves for whatever would come next.  As the countdown began, soldiers moved with urgency, double-checking their gear and equipment. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Each soldier exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the magnitude of the moment ahead.

“Gear up, everyone! We’ve trained for this,” Sergeant Miller called out, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through the room. The soldiers adjusted their uniforms and tightened their harnesses, each one mentally preparing for the unknown.

A technician monitored the control panel, fingers hovering over the activation switches, ready to engage the intricate systems that would kick-start the experiment. Outside the control room, the hum of machinery blended with the intense focus of those involved.

“Thirty seconds!” the technician announced, glancing around to ensure everyone was set. The soldiers formed a tight circle, hands clasped together in unity, their breathing synchronized in a collective effort to calm their nerves.

“Whatever happens next, we face it together,” Sergeant Miller reminded them, his tone inspiring confidence. As the countdown reached its final moments, the silence thickened, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

“Seven… six…” The room counted down, each number echoing with purpose, marking the point of no return.

**

Back on the control deck, Brenner looked out the window over the ship.

“It’s my kid’s birthday today. He told me he hated me before I shipped out,” Captain Brenner's gaze lingered on the vastness of the ocean stretching before them, the rhythmic swells reflecting his tumultuous thoughts. “It’s hard to shake off the feeling, you know?” he said, his voice low. “He didn’t mean it, but still…”

Commander Johnson glanced up briefly, sensing the weight of Brenner’s words. “Kids say the darnedest things, sir,” he replied absently, focused on the swirling lights and beeping indicators of the control panel. He could sense the tension lingering in the air, but keeping an eye on the ship’s systems was his priority.

“What I wouldn’t give for just one more moment with him,” Brenner muttered, turning away from the window to face the screens. “To tell him I love him before I—”

**

“You god damned liar!” Martin Brenner said, standing up, pointing at the screen. He looked younger than anyone had ever seen him, except for his peers and one other. His hair was dark, almost black, as were his eyes. He wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t plain either. He had a charisma about him, “You only ever cared about your career! Not me! Or my mother! You son of a bitch!”

“Do sit down, Papa,” Henry purred, enjoying the man’s pain; it was nothing like what he had gone through, but he would take what he could get. “You are making a scene.”

“Papa?” El whispered fearfully, eyes going to the man who was a stranger to her, but could see how he could become that man.

Mike leaned over, “He can’t hurt you. We won’t let him!”

“That’s right, kiddo,” Hopper said, “bastard won’t touch you again.”

Martin Brenner glared at Henry, “You are forgetting your place, young man.”

“Cute,” Henry said flatly, “that you think you have any power here.”

Martin Brenner opened his mouth, but a hand wrapped around his forearm and yanked him back down into his seat. “What do you think you are doing, Dr. Owens!”

A young man with dark, slightly curly hair, about ten years younger than Brenner, “Stopping you from making a bigger foul of yourself than you already are.”

“Yeah, looks like your experiments are going to be causing us a lot of trouble in the future.” A man with light brown hair, his blue eyes cold as he too glared at Brenner.

Brenner hissed, “You are up to your neck with the rest of us, Harrington!”

“WHAT!” the members of the Party yelled when they heard the name.

“Not now, guys!” Steve shouted. Even though he wanted to do the same, he had known his parents were involved in some shady things, but he hadn’t known how shady until now.

“Hey! Shut up!” Eddie yelled, “We are missing it!”

They all fell silent and watched what was to come…

**

“Captain, we’ve got t-minus one minute,” Johnson interrupted, his tone shifting to urgency. He flicked a switch, adjusting the energy levels as the machinery around them hummed with power.

Brenner took a deep breath, pushing aside personal thoughts for the moment. “Right. Focus. We’ve got a mission to complete.” He straightened his posture, the weight of command settling back onto his shoulders. “Let’s ensure that everyone is ready for what’s ahead.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Johnson replied, his fingers flying across the control panel. The countdown continued, and both men prepared to step into the unknown, driven by duty and the hope of returning home.

The atmosphere in the control room was tense as the technicians hovered over their consoles, each second stretching out as the countdown approached zero. This was it.

“T-minus three… two… one!” The countdown echoed through the room.  Johnson’s heart raced as he positioned his finger over the large, red activation button, the symbol of years of development and secrecy.

“Now!” Brenner ordered, his jaw set in determination.

As his finger pressed down, a low hum filled the air, resonating through the control deck. The lights dimmed momentarily as the ship’s core systems activated, unleashing a throbbing pulse that coursed through the vessel. A shiver ran down the spine of the boat as the machinery engaged, countless unseen gears whirring to life.

The ship trembled slightly, a sign of the immense energy now coursing through it. An ethereal blue aura shimmered around the hull, and for a brief moment, it appeared to flicker out of existence, as if the USS Elridge was becoming part of the very air and sea.

“Visibility at zero percent,” Johnson reported, adjusting the readouts. “We’re officially cloaked, Captain!” But just as relief washed over the crew, an ominous alarm blared throughout the deck. “Warning! Energy levels are destabilizing!” he shouted, eyes wide as she frantically scanned her console.

“Status report!” Brenner barked, his calm demeanor cracking under pressure.

“Trying to stabilize… but the energy feedback is off the charts!” Johnson replied, his fingers racing over the controls. The blue aura around the ship flickered unpredictably, moments of visibility breaking through the illusion like a faulty projection.

The readings spiked dangerously as the ship shook violently, metal creaking under stress.

Suddenly, a blinding flash lit up the control room. Johnson shielded his eyes, watching in horror as the screens exploded with static before plunging into darkness. The ship lurched, sending everyone careening against the bulkheads.

“Status report! Everybody okay?” Brenner shouted, fighting to right himself.

“Functional power is down to thirty percent! We’re losing cloaking!”

“Get us stabilized or we’ll blow our cover—and ourselves!” Brenner barked, desperately trying to keep the crew focused. With the cloaking device frazzled, the ship began to re-emerge from its hidden state, becoming partially visible before vanishing again in chaotic pulses.

“It’s slipping out of phase!” Johnson warned, barely keeping his grip on the console as the ship rocked like a small boat in a storm.

Just as they thought the situation couldn’t get worse, a deafening roar filled the air. The ship lurched violently as it flashed back into visibility, a sudden wave of force slamming through the control room.

In that heartbeat of time, everything hung in the balance—success or failure, life or destruction.

Suddenly, the ship fell silent. The chaos subsided, leaving a heavy stillness in the air. The screens stabilize, the flickering light returning to a steady glow.

“Power levels are stabilizing,” Johnson announced, wide-eyed, absorbed in disbelief. “But we’re still visible!”

Before Brenner could respond, a blinding light erupted from the ship’s stern, illuminating the dark waters. The crew erupted in shouts of confusion and alarm as everyone rushed to their posts. Brenner’s heart raced. This was it—the moment they had all been unwittingly anticipating.

“Sound general quarters!” he ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos. “Prepare for an emergency!”

The crew sprang into action, the previously calm deck now alive with energy and urgency. Brenner watched in disbelief as the source of the light seemed to pulse and expand, enveloping the ship in a shimmering cocoon. He felt a strange sensation wash over him, as if time had slowed, and the air was thick with electricity. An earsplitting, electric screech, a feedback loop, screamed through the air, getting louder and louder.

“What’s happening?”  Johnson shouted over the noise, his face pale.

“I don’t know!” Brenner replied, gripping the rail tightly. Something extraordinary was occurring, something that defied logic, and he felt both terrified and awestruck. As he gazed at the radiant glow, a thought struck him—was this what Project Rainbow was meant to unleash?

Before he could ponder further, the blinding light intensified, and the USS Eldridge seemed to shimmer, the ship and crew caught in an ethereal dance. Shapes emerged from the bright haze—visions of other worlds, of places and times that shouldn’t exist. The stars around them flickered, taking on new colors, while the very fabric of reality appeared to bend.

Brenner’s heart raced as he realized the implications of what lay before him. They were on the brink of something monumental, something that could change the course of history. But as the reality twisted around them, he also feared the costs that came with such power. In that moment, with uncertainty swirling in his mind, Captain Brenner understood that he would never look at the stars the same way again. The night held secrets far deeper than he had ever comprehended, and they were beginning to be revealed.

**

As the countdown approached its final seconds, an uneasy silence enveloped the crew of the USS Eldridge. The tension in the control room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Suddenly, a peculiar sight caught the corner of Commander Johnson’s eye. Black smoky particles began to rise from the dark waters that surrounded the ship, swirling like a storm of shadows.

“Is that coming from us?” Commander Johnson asked, his voice strained, the fear clear in his tone.

Brenner’s heart raced as he stepped closer to the viewport, his gaze fixed on the anomaly. The smoke billowed upward, creating tendrils that danced and flickered like dark flames against the night sky.

“Over here! There is something in the water! Do you see that?” Lieutenant Matthews’ frantic voice crackled over the radio, urgency lacing each word. “It’s moving toward the ship! Over!”

Brenner's stomach twisted as he peered deeper into the murky abyss below. “What the hell is happening?” he muttered with disbelief. The crew had been briefed on the potential anomalies of the experiment. Still, no one had mentioned anything like this—an ominous display of smoke coiling toward them, as if the very ocean itself had come to life.

The swirling mass took on a ghostly appearance, growing denser by the moment. As the particles closed in, they seemed to pulse, almost responding to the ship’s presence. Brenner exchanged nervous glances with Commander Johnson, whose eyes widened in realization.

“Captain, we need to abort the experiment!” Johnson shouted, his hand tightening on the edge of the control panel. “This isn’t safe!”

“Stand down!” Brenner barked, though his voice trembled. “We need to know what this is! We can’t back out now.”

The countdown timer flashed menacingly beneath them, ticking away the last moments until the planned activation of Project Rainbow. But with each passing second, the ship felt more and more like an anchor in uncharted waters—dangerous, unpredictable.

Suddenly, a violent jolt rocked the ship, sending vibrations shuddering throughout its metal frame. Alarms blared, red lights flashing violently, illuminating the room in an eerie glow. The black smoke surged closer, contorting and writhing as if alive, reaching towards the hull of the ship.

“Get the men ready!” Brenner shouted, his mind racing through the implications. Was this the result of their experiment? Or something else entirely? Whatever it was, time was running out.

“We have to hold position!” Johnson insisted, gripping the console as the ship was rocked again by another unseen force.

“Lieutenant!” Brenner called into the radio, desperation tainting his voice. “What’s your status down there? Are you seeing any changes?”

Matthews’ voice crackled, filled with static, “Sir, it's—it's like the water has formed a wall of smoke! We can’t see the surface! It’s—” The transmission abruptly cut off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

“Lieutenant Matthews! Respond!” Brenner shouted, tense and breathing heavily. Darkness consumed the water surrounding the Eldridge, swallowing all light as if a shroud had fallen over the sea itself.

Before Brenner could react, a powerful surge of energy erupted from the ocean, like a wave propelled by an invisible force. The command room was filled with a blinding white light, and the sound of rushing air was deafening. It felt as though they were being pulled in all directions—spinning, tumbling in a storm of light and shadow.

All at once, the light faded, and the ship fell unnaturally still. Brenner blinked, trying to gather his bearings. Panic gripped him as he realized they had drifted into strange territory. The black particles now floated eerily around them, suspended in mid-air as if they were frozen in time.

“Report!” Brenner implored, scanning the control room. “Someone, anything!”

From the depths of the darkness outside, a distorted voice emerged, rasping through the radio, “Captain… It’s not over. You have opened the door…”

Brenner felt his pulse race as dread chilled his spine. The very nature of reality seemed changed, and as he stared out into the shrouded abyss, he wondered if they had unleashed something far beyond their grasp—something that would alter their understanding of time, space, and existence itself.

**

The subsequent events were difficult to describe. The soldiers aboard the USS Eldridge, full of bravery and camaraderie, quickly sensed an unseen force lurking in the shadows of this strange world they had entered. The environment changed, with a noticeable tension filling the air as an eerie silence took over. It all started with Private Jenkins. Moments after starting the experiment, he felt an inexplicable cold rush across the deck, making the hairs on his neck stand up. He turned around just in time to see a flicker of movement—a shadow moving just beyond the faint lights' reach. It vanished before he could understand what he saw, but the unsettling feeling persisted.

"Did anyone else see that?" Jenkins asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper. The other soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, their determination now tinged with paranoia.

As they continued onward, the shadowy figures started to reveal themselves more clearly. Creatures of different shapes and sizes appeared, flickering in and out of view like smoke against a fire. They moved with an unnatural grace, perfectly hidden in the darkness, with a predatory appetite. The soldiers grew more isolated, with doubts creeping in as they saw their comrades disappear silently, drawn into the shadows that seemed to reach out for them.

Screams echoed through the corridors as panic erupted. The soldiers scrambled, trying to regroup, but the creatures were relentless. One by one, they were picked off, swallowed by the darkness as their shouts of fear and confusion filled the air.

Brenner, still in the control room, felt the tremor in the very foundations of the ship as morale shifted. The static crackled on the radio as reports of attacks flooded in from all directions.

"Hold your positions!" he ordered, though his own voice trembled with uncertainty.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Matthews rallied a small group of survivors in a cramped corner of the ship. "Stay together! We can’t let them pick us off!” he shouted, fighting against the rising tide of despair. But as they turned to move, a deep growl emanated from the shadows, freezing them in place. They could feel the creatures watching, calculating their next move.

**

“Hey!” Jason Carver said, “Weren’t those the same thing that Harrington hit with a nail bat?”

“Yes!” Several of the people in the room said, in varying tones of voice.

“So, if those soldiers couldn’t kill those things with guns? How was Harrington able to hurt it with a nail bat?” Jason asked.

“Will! His must have weakened it with his powers!” Mike said confidently.

Will said nothing but gave Steve a significant look. One that Steve promptly ignored.

**

The soldiers lost.

**

Just hours—or maybe minutes—after the USS Eldridge had vanished, it reappeared from the strange realm into which it had inexplicably slipped. As it broke through the dense fog enveloping it, the ship seemed to shimmer for a fleeting moment before settling back into its familiar shape, the battleship now eerily silent. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting ghostly shadows over the deck, and the usual sounds of life aboard the ship were conspicuously absent. The hum of the engines had faded away, replaced by an unsettling stillness. Not a single crew member stirred as the cold ocean breeze whispered through the ship's corridors.

In the control room, where the countdown had just moments ago marked a pivotal moment in history, a single radio crackled to life, breaking the deep silence. “This is Base Markee calling! Come in, USS Eldridge! Please come in!” The voice echoed through the empty chambers, filled with urgency and uncertainty.

Captain David Brenner regained consciousness first, groggy and disoriented, blinking against the harshness of the overhead lights. He instinctively reached for his throat; the taste of salt and something metallic lingered in his mouth. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, the cold steel of the bridge grounding him as he took in his surroundings.

“Mattews! Johnson!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the thick haze. Panic surged as he looked around the room—where was his crew? The controls were still lit, but no one operated them. Thumping footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, and Brenner's heart raced as he stumbled toward the door.

Outside, the night air hit him like a wall. The deck was deserted, save for a few scattered tools and equipment left in haste. The ship felt wrong—haunted. Something had shifted, as if the very fabric of reality had been altered while they had floated in that unknown realm. He stared out into the dark waters that lapped against the hull, searching for answers.

Just as he began to lose hope, the radio crackled again, a voice breaking through the static. “Eldridge, do you copy? This is Base Markee calling. Come in, USS Eldridge!” Relief washed over him. Perhaps the crew needed to reorganize after whatever bizarre event had unfolded. Brenner climbed back into the control room and pressed the button to respond.

“Base Markee, this is Captain Brenner of the USS Eldridge. We’re… alive?” His voice trembled, uncertainty creeping back in.

“Copy that, Captain,” the voice on the other end hesitated, as if struggling to comprehend the situation. “We were tracking your position when you vanished. Intelligence is scrambling, but it’s been nearly twelve hours since we last received a signal from you. How is the ship operational?”

Twelve hours? The thought stunned Brenner. He glanced at the ship's clocks—time had worked differently? It had felt like they had only been gone for moments. “We need to get the men back together. I’m missing my first officer and the rest of the crew—”

Suddenly, the lights flickered overhead, casting long, uncertain shadows across the bridge. A low hum began to fill the air, starting as a whisper and slowly growing into a vibration that resonated deep within the ship. Brenner's instincts flared; he sensed a presence, something waiting in the periphery of his mind.

“Captain?” The radio’s static broke his focus. “Captain! We have reports of strange weather phenomena around your last known location. Prepare for—”

The hum intensified, and suddenly, shapes began to emerge around him in the shadows—figures flickering in and out of existence, resembling his crew but slightly distorted, as if they were reflections in a warped glass. The relationship between this world and something other was clearly tenuous. A chill ran down his spine as the specters reached out toward him, their faces filled with a longing that sent him reeling back.

“Get away from me!” Brenner shouted at the shadows. He clutched the radio tightly, trying to center his thoughts. “Base Markee! We are experiencing some anomalies aboard! Stand by for possible evacuation!”

“Evacuation?” The voice on the other end sounded alarmed. “Captain, you must hold your position—”

But before he could reply, the lights flickered once more, plunging the control room into darkness. The hum morphed into a roaring sound, overwhelming his senses as a blinding light enveloped him, the specters dissolving like mist in the dawn. When the noise subsided and the lights returned to flicker on, Brenner found himself standing on the deck again, the shadows gone. The ship was quiet once more, but the absolute silence pressed in from all sides. Suddenly, a shout echoed from below deck.

“Captain! Are you up there?” It was Lieutenant Matthews, sounding breathless and bewildered.

Brenner rushed to the sound, his heart pounding as he reached the stairs. A flood of crew members emerged from below, their faces a mask of confusion, mirroring his own.

“What the hell just happened?” Matthews gasped, shaking his head as they gathered on the deck, the bond of their formations driving away the lingering shadows.

“I don’t know,” Brenner replied, glancing back at the control room, feeling the weight of the unknown resting heavily on his shoulders. “But we’re not alone out there anymore. We must prepare for what comes next.”

Together, they stood on the edge of that still, calm ocean, ready to face the unfolding mystery of their existence beyond the veil of reality, knowing full well that they had stumbled into something extraordinary—and perhaps dangerous—that would change the lives of many for decades to come.

**

The screen went dark, and the theater lights brightened, indicating it was time for a break. Many audience members got up to use the restroom or get snacks. A lot of the people in the room knew they were going to need chocolate to get through to the end of this, if this is how it began.

“Dude!” Garth said, from just behind Eddie, “We are so screwed!”

Eddie turned to face him and laughed, “Dude, you have no idea!”

Chapter Text

1952, Hawkins, Indiana, the woods…

In the heart of the dense woods of Hawkins, Indiana, the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, creating a patchwork of light and shadow on the forest floor. The air was filled with the sound of cicadas and the faint rustling of leaves as a group of preteens gathered around a newly painted sign. It was a bold yet straightforward creation: white wood emblazoned with black lettering that read, “Hawkins Adventure Club— Meeting: Saturday at 2 PM.”

**

“What’s with all the kids?” Garth leaned over his seat and asked Eddie.

Eddie shrugged. He threw his arm over the back of Chrissy’s seat. She smiled at him as his fingers brushed against Jason’s shoulder. Jason glared, but Eddie could see that it held no real heat behind it. Nor did Jaso shift away from the touch.

**

Jim Hopper, the de facto leader of the group, stood back to admire their handiwork. His tousled hair fell into his eyes as he squinted at the sign. Beside him, Bob Newby, always the optimist, grinned widely, his excitement bubbling over. "This is perfect! Everyone will see it. The Hawkins Adventure Club is going to be the best thing ever, Hopper!"

**

“That’s Hopper?!” Mike exclaimed. It sounded more like a question than a statement.

Many of the adults gasped at the sight of a young Jim Hopper, who would grow up to be the chief of police.

“I forgot how cute you were as a kid, Hop,” Joyce whispered to Hopper. Hopper just moaned in embarrassment and covered his face with his hand.

**

Scott Clarke adjusted his baseball cap and rolled his eyes. “As long as the ‘adventures’ don’t involve running from bullies.” He shivered at the thought of their last encounter with Lonnie Byers.

“Come on, Scott. That was one time!” Ted Wheeler defended with a mischievous smirk. “You think Byers is just going to show up again because we put up a sign?”

“Maybe Ted.”

**

“Mr. Clarke! Is that you?” Dustin yelled.

Scott Clarke sighed, “Yes, Mr. Henderson. Please quiet down.”

“Huh,” Nancy said, then turned to Mike, “You really do look like Dad.”

Mike glared at his sister.

**

Joyce Maldonado, sitting cross-legged on the grass and holding a hammer, couldn't resist adding, “I’d be more worried about the local wildlife or the creepy adults in this town. You never know what they might be up to.”

Karen Childress, leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, chuckled. “That’s true, Joyce. Hawkins can be pretty strange. Just last week, I saw a woman talking to a statue of a kangaroo in the park!”

“True, Karen,”

**

“Mom!!!”

This came from the Byers boys and the Wheeler children.

**

Claudia Yount, the quietest of the group, slid a glance at the sign, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “You think we’ll have a lot of kids come to the meeting?” she asked, her voice soft but curious.

“Of course, Claudia! We even have snacks!” Bob exclaimed as he pulled a paper bag from his backpack, revealing a batch of homemade cookies that his younger sister, Patty, had baked for them. The aroma wafted through the air, making everyone’s stomachs rumble. She couldn’t come because she was grounded…again.

**

“That’s my mom!” Dustin exclaimed, tapping his hand on Will’s arm in excitement.

Will gave him a fond smile.

**

“Alright, cookie-bringer!” Hopper said, ruffling Bob’s hair. “But remember, Bob, we need to focus on the adventures, not just the snacks. Let’s see if we can get that treehouse sorted out, too.”

**

“Bob!” It was said in a chorus of voices. Bob Newby blushed at so many people knowing who he was, and sank into his seat.

**

Nods of agreement rippled through the group as they finished nailing the sign into the ground. With a few finishing touches, they stepped back to admire their work. The sign stood proud and inviting, the promise of adventure looming just ahead.

As they took a moment for a group photo—Hopper awkwardly holding the camera at arm's length, everyone grinning and squeezing together—a sudden rustling in the bushes caught their attention. The group's laughter fell silent, tension creeping in.

**

“Oh, no!” Dustin whispered, panicked. “What if it's….”

**

“What was that?” Scott whispered, adjusting his glasses nervously.

“Probably just a squirrel,” Ted shrugged, though his bravado faltered as he looked toward the noise.

“Or maybe something more,” Hopper said, his tone shifting into the serious mode he wished they could all avoid. “We should probably check it out, just to be safe.”

**

“So, he was always like that,” Jonathan said.

“Like what?” Will asked.

“Protective.” Said Steve.

**

As the group approached the source of the rustle, Jim kept a protective stance in front of the others. They pushed through the underbrush, only to find a small raccoon rummaging through some leaves, startled by their sudden presence.

**

There was a mutual sigh of relief from the watchers at the sight of the small animal.

**

“Well, it’s just a raccoon,” Hopper said, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The tension broke, and laughter erupted again, echoing through the woods.

“Still scary!” Bob chuckled, picking up a twig and pretending to defend himself against the mischievous animal.

The raccoon, unimpressed by their antics, gave them one last disinterested glance before darting off into the foliage. The group sighed in relief, but their spirits were soon lifted again as they made their way back toward their newly erected sign.

“Okay,” Jim said, raising a fist in the air. “Everyone, back to the task! We’ve got an Adventure Club to promote! Saturday at 2 PM, snacks included!”

As they cheered, the brightness of young friendship filled the forest, a soft counterpoint to the shadows in the trees. Vows of loyalty and promises of fun floated in the air, reminding them that whatever lay ahead—be it mundane or extraordinary—would be an adventure they would face together.

And as they departed the woods to prepare for Saturday’s meeting, the sign stood tall and unyielding, a beacon of hope and excitement amidst the ever-enigmatic backdrop of Hawkins. Little did they know that their lives would soon intertwine with darkness, but for now, they were just kids, full of dreams and laughter, ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited them.

**

Hopper, Bob, and Ted rode home on their bikes, the warm breeze tousling their hair as they glided along the winding path through the woods. Laughter still echoed in their minds from their earlier adventure, and the excitement for their upcoming meetings with the Hawkins Adventure Club bubbled beneath the surface.

As they approached a clearing, the boys spotted the freshly painted sign they had put up a few days ago. The stark white wood contrasted with the deep green of the trees, while the bold black lettering read: “Mirkwood.”

“Look at that beauty!” Bob exclaimed, giving his bike a playful pedal, causing it to wobble slightly. “We need more signs like this! It adds character to our adventures.”

Hopper nodded in agreement, appreciating their handiwork. “Yeah, Mirkwood is fitting. It sounds like a place where legends live, with shadows and mysteries lurking around every corner.”

**

Mike stood in his seat and pointed a finger at Hopper, “You said you didn’t know what we were talking about when we said Mirkwood!”

Hopper sighed, “Jesus, Wheeler, it was at least thirty years ago for me! I forgot, okay. I was more worried about finding a lost kid than remembering the name of my childhood playground.”

Mike sat back down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, looking unconvinced.

**

Ted smirked, riding ahead for a moment. “Just keep the bullies out of it, alright?”

**

“You were so cute, Ted,” Karen whispered, then frowned when all she got was a snore in reply. She looked over to her side to see that Ted was asleep, dressed in his usual after-work clothes. Karen sighed and wondered if Ted even knew what was going on. She turned her attention back to the screen. As Ted shifted his weight in the chair, if she had looked at him for a second longer, she would have seen him peek open one eye and smile at her.

**

They continued on their path, emerging from the woods and into the sunlit streets of Hawkins. The road led them past a construction site that had been bustling with activity for weeks. A large sign stood prominently at the entrance, announcing: “Hawkins Laboratories and Electric.”

“Just what we need in our lovely town— labs and creepy experiments,” Ted said, rolling his eyes as they approached the site.

Hopper shrugged, glancing at the construction workers who were diligently moving materials and setting up equipment. “I don’t know, it might just be research for something useful, like electricity or… better water filtration?”

Bob, always the optimist, chimed in. “Well, maybe they’re working on something amazing! Like, have you guys seen the new power grid they were talking about? It could make Hawkins a lot cooler!”

“Or maybe it’s super-soldiers,” Hopper joked, nudging Bob with his elbow. “You never know what kind of ‘experiments’ that lab is about.”

**

“Hey,” Lucas hissed at Mike, “do you think Hopper is psychic?”

Mike rolled his eyes.

“What? It was a spot-on guess.” Lucas said.

“Seriously, Hop?” Joyce asked

Hopper shrugged. Knowing what he does now? It was a little too on the nose for Hopper’s comfort.

**

As they rolled past the construction site, a flash of movement caught Hopper’s eye. For just a brief second, he saw a figure darting behind a stack of building materials. His heart raced, instinct kicking in as he slowed down. “Did you guys see that?”

**

“What did you see!” All of the boys from the Party yelled, but Will only looked amused at them.

“Pipe down, shitheads!” Steve yelled.

**

Bob glanced back, his expression shifting from excitement to concern. “See what?”

“Back there,” Hopper pointed, but when they turned to look, the figure was gone, swallowed by the shadow of the busy worksite. “Nothing, I guess.” He shook his head, trying to dismiss the unease prickling at his neck.

**

“See, even Hop had an overactive imagination at that age,” Steve said in reply to the boys’ pouts of disappointment. “What? Did you expect it to be? The Lab isn’t even built yet!”

**

They continued their ride home, but something lingered in the air, a tension that felt heavier than before. The discussions around the Adventure Club seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the sense that they were on the cusp of something bigger—something they couldn’t quite understand.

As they neared their neighborhood, Ted broke the silence. “Let’s just make sure we’re ready for Saturday. If the sign drew attention, the meeting could be huge!”

“Or a total flop,” Hopper replied, but he smiled nonetheless, feeling a spark of hope. “Either way, we’ll figure it out together. That’s what the Adventure Club is for.”

With the setting sun casting long shadows behind them, they rode on, the promise of adventure ahead, their friendship glowing brightly against the backdrop of an ever-mysterious Hawkins.

**

The watchers watched as the scene changed to a new day on screen.

**

The sun was bright, and the much-anticipated meeting of the Hawkins Adventure Club began to take shape. Excitement buzzed in the air as the preteens gathered at their new headquarters—a treehouse adorned with their freshly painted sign. Laughter and chatter filled the woods, but unbeknownst to them, trouble was lurking just around the corner.

Lonnie Byers had been nursing a grudge since the last encounter with the kids, and he was determined to make their adventure difficult. Alongside him was his shadow, Walter Henderson, who was always willing to tag along for trouble. The duo watched from a distance, plotting their next move.

"Those kids think they can just have their little club and ignore us," Lonnie scoffed, his lips curling into a devious smile. "Let’s show them what happens when you mess with Lonnie Byers."

Walter giggled nervously, hoping whatever plan Lonnie had in mind wouldn’t end up with them in trouble. “What are we gonna do, Lonnie? Just mess up their sign or something?”

“No, Walter, we’re going to make it a little more interesting,” Lonnie replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Let’s scare them. You’ll see—nothing ruins an adventure like a good dose of fear.”

**

“Uh,” Henry muttered, “he was always like that? Really, Joyce? I was so sure you had so much better taste than…him.” Henry sighed, “Such a disappointment.”

Joyce frowned, wondering why the man spoke as if he knew her. She had only known one person named Henry, and that was in high school, and that sweet, awkward boy couldn’t have become this suave, charmingly dangerous, handsome man.

**

Meanwhile, back at the Adventure Club, the kids had just finished discussing plans for future exploits when they heard strange noises nearby—cackles and rustling that sent shivers down their spines.

“It’s probably just the wind or a squirrel,” Ted said, though he was unsure. His bravado dimmed under the weight of the ominous sounds. “Right?”

“Let’s go check it out!” Jim Hopper led the way, hoping to protect the group.

As they ventured deeper into the trees, a sudden cacophony erupted—a series of frightening sounds that echoed through the woods.

“Ooooooh, we’re coming to get you!” Lonnie’s voice boomed from behind a nearby bush, sending the group into a panic.

The children squealed and huddled close, their earlier bravado replaced by fright.

“Run!” Scott shouted, his ball cap nearly slipping off his head.

Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a familiar face emerged from the shadows. Patty Newby, a young girl with light brown skin and Bob’s younger sister, had been wandering just a ways off, gathering wildflowers. She caught sight of the chaos and immediately ran toward the group.

**

“Who is she?” Lucas asked.

“Patty,” Bob whispered sadly, “my sister.”

Everyone in the Party frowned. They hadn’t known Bob had a sister. Joyce reached over and grabbed Bob’s hand, and Hopper put a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.

No one noticed the look of grief that crossed Henry’s face.

**

“What’s happening? Why are you all running?” Patty asked, perplexed.

“Lonnie and Walter are trying to scare us!” Joyce yelled, breathless as she tried to regain her composure.

Patty’s eyes flashed with determination. “We can’t let them ruin our fun! Let’s show them they can’t mess with the Adventure Club!” With that, she grabbed a handful of vibrant flowers and marched right toward the source of the disturbance.

“Hey! You two! Stop hiding like cowards!” Patty called out, her confident voice ringing through the trees.

Lonnie and Walter exchanged nervous glances, taken aback by the sudden confrontation. “What do you want, Newby?” Lonnie sneered, trying to maintain his bravado.

“I want you to leave my friends alone and stop being bullies!” she shouted, brandishing the flowers like a weapon. “Why don’t you show some courage and face us like real adventurers?”

The air grew tense as the kids hesitated. Lonnie, fueled by irritation and embarrassment, stepped forward. “Why should we listen to you?”

Patty straightened her back, her resolve unwavering. “Because I’ll tell everyone you’re scared of a little girl with flowers! And who knows, maybe I’ll tell my friends that you’re hiding behind bushes instead of having fun like everyone else!”

Lonnie’s confidence faltered; he glanced at Walter, whose eyes widened in surprise at Patty’s boldness. In that moment, all of his bravado seemed to fade away.

“Come on, let’s just go,” Walter muttered, sensing that this was not worth the trouble.

**

“Wow!” Max said, “She’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Bob said, hearing what Max said, “she was.”

**

As the boys retreated, Patty turned to the Adventure Club, who erupted into cheers. “You did it, Patty!” Bob exclaimed, proud of his sister.

Patty smiled, shrugging it off. “Sometimes you just have to stand up, even if it's with flowers.” She tossed a flower in the air, and the kids laughed, the tension lifting.

As they regrouped, they shared stories of bravery, excitement, and the importance of friendship. The Adventure Club was safe once more, thanks to Patty Newby’s unexpected intervention.

That day, not only did their adventures continue, but they also learned that courage could come in many forms—even from the smallest among them. They left the woods with their spirits high, ready to face whatever Hawkins would throw at them next.

**

The lights in the theater came up to signal time for a break. Dustin jumped up, grabbing Will’s wrist and all but dragging him over to Mike, El, Max, and Lucas. All talking excitedly about what they had seen. An onlooker would have thought the age difference between the kids would have stopped their conversation, but these were boys who had been friends for years. The two girls looked at the boys in confusion until Mike turned and asked El what she thought about what she had seen.

“Don’t…like,” El paused searching for the words, then settled on, “Mouth breathers.”

“I know, right! Bullies suck!” Max jumped in, wanting to know this girl who rocked the shaved head style with such confidence. “I’m Max,” she said to El.

El looked at the girl, confused, not knowing what to say.

“We know,” Mike said snottily.

Max narrowed her eyes at him, “I was talking to her, asshole.”

“Lay off, Mike. It’s your fault, Max wants to know her, you talked about El so much—”

“I don’t need your help, Stalker!” Max snarled at Lucas.

“You talked…about…me?” El asked Mike, and Mike blushed and stammered.

“Oh, here we go,” Dustin muttered, looking at friends who would become couples one day.

Will only snickered; it no longer hurt to see Mike’s love for El. Will glanced at Dustin, not when Will knew his own love was waiting in the wings of time.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR: A New Home

Once the audience had settled back in their seats, the lights dimmed once more to signal the start of the next piece of what they would see. Many in the audience were still confused about why they were here or what they were even watching. And how it even concerned them or their lives. Those who had these thoughts had not lived through many of the events that the Party or Party-adjacent had.

Text appeared on the screen in white letters that glowed brightly against the black backdrop. And the show began with a fourteen-year-old boy walking into frame after opening a door, music from the 50’s playing in the background.

**

October 1, 1959, Hawkins, Indiana.

Henry Creel pushed open the door to his new home, the creaking sound echoing through the space as he stepped inside. In his hands, he carried a small red portable radio; it was playing quietly as he moved back a lock of his blonde hair that had fallen over his eyes. He knew his father would start bitching about him getting a haircut soon. His blue eyes took in the dust motes that danced in the slivers of light filtering through the grimy windows, adding to the dull ambiance. His sister, Alice, was still asleep in the car, blissfully unaware of the tumultuous transition unfolding around them. He knew that when she finally woke up, she would be a menace—crying about missing her friends, complaining about the move, and ultimately, finding a way to make his life even more miserable than it already was. He glanced outside to where their parents struggled with boxes and furniture, grunting under the weight of their lives packed into the moving truck. They were so focused on hauling the baggage of their old life into this dilapidated house that they didn’t notice Henry’s sullen demeanor. He took a deep breath, hoping to inhale something joyful or promising about his new life, but all he found was the stale air of displacement.

The house itself was a shell of neglect, with peeling paint and an outdated floral wallpaper that seemed to mock him. Henry hated it. He knew he would hate it. Hawkins, the town he was now forced to call home, felt foreign and bleak. The rumors of idyllic small-town living didn’t fit the reality he was standing in. This place held none of the excitement he had dreamed of—all he could see were the faded remnants of dreams long past.

**

Lucas suck in a breath, he knew the interior of that house they were being shown. He knew it as the place that took the person he loved more than anything.

Erica growled low in her throat and turned in her seat to glare at the boy wearing a letterman’s jacket sitting a couple of rows behind her. When she caught Jason Carver’s eye, she ran a finger along her throat, then pointed at him, her meaning clear. Jason sank in his seat at the looks he was getting from Chrissy and Eddie when they noticed the younger girl’s threatening manner. Jason could only shake his head. How could he even begin to explain what could only have been madness that had consumed him after Chrissy had… but Chrissy was here, she was fine. Though he cautiously eyed the younger girl, he had learned the hard way that Erica Sinclair never forgave or forgot. What happened to his car had proven that.

**

But what choice did he have? The fallout from his past had tightly shackled him to this new existence. He had royally messed up in his old hometown—torn apart friendships, hurt people, and broken promises that left him with an unbearable weight of shame. His parents thought a fresh start would heal their bruised family, but Henry knew better. He felt like a leaf blown from a tree, lost in a gust of wind, and now, here he was, facing the reality of his parents’ misguided hope. He wandered deeper into the house, feeling the floorboards creak beneath him as if they were groaning in discontent at his presence. The living room, with its faded carpet and old furniture covered in a thin layer of dust, felt like a mausoleum for forgotten memories. He could almost hear the echoes of laughter that had long since vanished, replaced by silence and desolation.

As he moved through the narrow hallway, he could see the remnants of previous occupants—the scratched walls and remnants of child-sized handprints. Had someone else lived here, filled these rooms with stories and laughter? Or were they lost too, much like him? The thought pricked at him; he didn’t want to think he was sharing this space with ghosts of the past.

A sharp voice broke through his thoughts as their mother called out from outside, her tone both excited and pleading, "Henry! Can you help your father with this box?"

Henry frowned. He didn’t want to help. He just wanted to sulk and wallow in his own self-pity. But he also didn’t want to add further burden to his parents, so he sighed and made his way back outside, forcing a smile as he approached the moving truck.

Once he reached the back, he hesitated, the reality of his choices weighing heavily on him. Somewhere inside, he longed for acceptance, for this new environment to blossom into something beautiful. But in that moment, all he felt was the chill of dread coiling around his chest. Hawkins would be nothing more than a prison built upon the foundation of his past mistakes, a reminder that he was still running from himself.

“Come on, Henry!” his father urged more cheerfully than he felt the situation warranted.

As he reached for the box, he caught a glimpse of Alice stirring in the car, rubbing her eyes and yawning. A part of him wished he could ignore her inevitable onslaught of complaints, but another part felt a flicker of protective instinct. She didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of this move as he had.

“Just a little longer,” he whispered to himself, his resolve beginning to waver. As the sun dipped lower in the sky and shadows crept across their new lawn, he wondered how long it would take for this place to feel like home—if it ever would.

**

Henry was right about Alice being a menace.

**

Lucas hated that he actually agreed with the boy on screen. Little sisters were the worst.

**

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Alice cried, running inside, shoving past Henry.

“Slow down, Alice,” his mother’s voice called from outside. Henry can hear the clack of her high heels on the walkway leading up to the house, the thunk of them on the wooden porch, and her pleased sigh as she takes in the house for the first time. “Oh, my!”

Alice races back and forth like a wild creature caught in a trap, as she runs around trying to take in everything at once. She made Henry tired watching her, “Oh, look! There’s a grandfather clock in the main hallway!”

**

Lucas, Erica, Chrissy, Eddie, and Steve all flinched at the sound of the grandfather clock when it chimed.

**

Henry watched with a wary eye as his father walked into the room, up behind his mother, wrapping an arm around her waist. He saw how she stiffened at the touch, how she forced herself to relax back into it. It wouldn’t be long before they started fighting again. They fought for as long as he could remember. It got worse when Alice was born, then got better after the… accident. Henry knew it would be a short reprieve at best and was enjoying it while it lasted.

Henry gave them a week before the screaming matches started.

**

Nancy felt a pang of sympathy for this boy. She knew what it was like to hear your parents fighting and wonder if it was your fault because they did.

**

“Well, we are home, Virginia,” his father said, far too happily, for what this situation called for in Henry’s opinion, not that anyone would ask him for it.

“It’s beautiful, Victor!”

Alice ran up to them, “Can I pick out my room?”

“Course, sweetheart,” his father said. Alice grinned at him and ran off, and up the set of nearby stairs.

“Watch your step!” his mother exclaimed.

“Oh, it's been a long trip, let her run wild.” His father said, amused. Which was a double standard, if Henry had acted like that, he would have been yelled at for it.

Just another reason to hate the little brat, Henry thought.

**

Mike and Lucas shared a look. They understood how unfair it was to be a boy, while the girl was more favored in the household.

**

His mother looked around the house, “It really is perfect, dear,” she said to his father.

His father nodded, “A perfect house, for a perfect family. I told you, honey, this is a fresh start for this family.” His father squeezed his mother’s waist once more, and she smiled fondly at him, then said, “I’m going to go get the bags.” Then he turned to Henry, “Turn off that radio, boy.”

Boy, Henry thought, as if he didn’t even deserve to be called by his name anymore. From the man who had screamed at him more than once about upholding his name, you would think he would use Henry’s name more often, but no, it was always…

“Boy, what did I tell you?”

“You said…” Henry started, but stopped at the look on his father’s face. That was the look he got just before he would backhand Henry for whatever absolute or imagined disrespect, he thought Henry was giving him.

“I said…off.”

**

Hopper flinched at the low-key menace coming from the man. It reminded him all too much of how his own father treated him. And how much worse it was when Hopper’s father had too much to drink. He never thought he shared that with any of his classmates.

**

Henry stared his father down, but… in the end, the beating for disobedience wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t afraid of getting one, but not when he would be starting school in a few days. The last thing he wanted was questions about bruises he didn’t want to answer. Slowly, Henry turned the knob on the radio; it clicked off, and there was a profound silence.

His father gave him a long look, then shook his head, and he turned to go out the door, “That thing will rot his brain, Virginia! Mark my words!”

His mother walked up to him and gently put a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you go out and explore, sweetheart?”

Henry scoffed at her, “We need to find the best reception.”

“We? Henry?”

**

“We?” Will whispered to himself, though Dustin shot him a look of concern that he ignored. Will remembered all too well when he wasn’t alone in his head. He shot a glance at Henry; he knew the man wasn’t as evil as he liked to pretend.

Henry was just…lost.

And Will wasn’t sure what it would take for Henry to find himself again.

If Henry even could any more.

**

Henry didn’t like the look she was giving him, as if he had said something wrong. Had he? Ever since he had been found in that cave three years ago, they had been giving him those looks! It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t remember what happened. And the incident with the boy at his school in Nevada had been an accident.

It really had been! Why did no one believe him? Why didn’t his own mother believe him?

Instead of saying any of that, all Henry said was, “We—I,” he corrected, “need to find the best reception,” at his mother’s confused look, “for the radio,” he added, bringing it to her attention.

“Oh! Well, you could try the attic?” his mother said brightly, then frowned, “But I don’t like the idea of you cooped up with that thing so much.”

Henry said nothing, and for a moment it seemed like his mother was going to say something, then his father’s voice called out,

“Virginia! A little help out here?”

Virginia walked away from Henry and leaned out the door, “Coming.” Then she looked back at Henry, concerned, “You aren’t hearing strange voices on your radio anymore, are you?”

Henry looked everywhere, but not at his mother. He didn’t want to lie to her, but the voices had faded except for one. The one that he had first heard in that cave in Nevada. The one that haunted his dreams, that brought him to a world filled with ash and shadow, inhabited by monsters.

The one that scared him.

Virginia smiled hopefully, “Just remember what we talked about, sweetheart. That is, if you start to forget yourself or feel confused. Please don’t get upset about it. Just take a deep breath,”

Henry took that deep breath and dealt with his mother, even though she was as helpful as she could be. It grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“…and say to yourself— ‘It’s not real—”

“I’m…normal,” Henry said, knowing this is what she wanted to hear. However, Henry felt anything but normal. He wasn’t normal, and never would be, no matter how much he wanted to be.

“And?” She asked.

“I’m Henry…Creel.” He said, though there were some days that he wasn’t sure that’s who he was anymore.

**

Lucas, Erica, and Eddie glared at Henry, who only turned his head and smirked at them. Will only gave Henry a sad look. While Steve looked like he was fuming, he could be sure who he was madder at: Henry or his mother, because the woman was obviously trying to ignore the problem rather than help Henry.

“That,” Joyce muttered, “is not good parenting. You don’t ignore something and hope it goes away when your child is in mental distress.” And Joyce should know. Both of her sons had been showing signs of mental distress for probably longer than she had noticed. But she had seen. She was still working on a plan on how to get them the help she was sure they needed, without getting them committed to an insane asylum.

**

At least that’s what the voice tried to convince him of. That he was something better, something more, than just a boy. That he could be a—

“See!” Virginia’s voice broke Henry’s train of thought. “You are totally normal!”

Henry rushes forward and throws his arms around his mother, hugging her. She froze for a moment, then gently touched his hair. But did not return the embrace. What sort of mother would not hug her child?

**

Many of the parents in the room could see that Virginia loved her son. She was just at a loss for what to do to help him. Mental health care in the late fifties and early sixties was…experimental at best, and downright unethical at worst.

**

“Virginia!!” came Henry’s father’s voice, more annoyed now.

Virginia sighed and stepped away from Henry, calling out the door, “Alright! I’m coming!” She looked back at Henry, “I'd better go help your father before he throws his back out and breaks all the China.” She noticed Henry’s worried expression, “Don’t worry so much, darling.” Then she headed out of the house to help Victor.

“You worry too much,” Henry muttered. Then he turned the radio back on and began to fiddle with the dial. He passed a couple of songs he knew, then stopped when he heard his parents' voices coming out of the radio.

“….Should talk to him, Victor!”

“Don’t start, Virginia! What I should do is break that God damned radio, that’s what I should do!”

“Keep your voice down! The children will hear you!”

Henry turned off the radio; he didn’t need to hear any more. They were fighting again; it was never going to change. It didn’t matter what they said. They didn’t really think Hawkins was going to be any different than Nevada. Except maybe this time, Henry wouldn’t end up blinding a classmate. With a resigned sigh, he pushed those thoughts aside, just for now.  And perhaps in this unfamiliar place, there might still be a glimmer of hope. Henry didn’t really know what Hawkins could hold, but in that moment, he understood one thing: he had to be at least ready to find out.

**

The screen went black, and the watchers were quiet, just taking in what they had seen.

“They looked so young,” Henry murmured, staring at the black screen, “they seemed so old when I was that age. But they weren’t. No wonder they couldn’t help me.”

“They were people, Henry.” Will said, “Ones who were out of their depth when it came to you and what you were going through. It didn’t mean they didn’t care. They didn’t know how to help.”

Henry looked at Will, “You are just like your mother, William. You are far too kind for your own good. That’s how they will get you.”

Will flinched back, remembering how many times his kindness had been taken advantage of, many times by his friends, though they hadn’t meant to, classmates, the guy he had dated before he found the love of his life. So yes, Will understood that kindness wasn’t always a good thing to have, but he also knew it made the world a better place when it was shown.